The Top 100 Things I'd Do If I Ever Became An Evil Overlord
My Legions of Terror will have helmets with clear plexiglass visors, not face-concealing ones.
My ventilation ducts will be too small to crawl through.
My noble half-brother whose throne I usurped will be killed, not kept anonymously imprisoned in a forgotten cell of my dungeon.
Shooting is not too good for my enemies.
The artifact which is the source of my power will not be kept on the Mountain of Despair beyond the River of Fire guarded by the Dragons of Eternity. It will be in my safe-deposit box. The same applies to the object which is my one weakness.
I will not gloat over my enemies' predicament before killing them.
When I've captured my adversary and he says, "Look, before you kill me, will you at least tell me what this is all about?" I'll say, "No." and shoot him. No, on second thought I'll shoot him then say "No."
After I kidnap the beautiful princess, we will be married immediately in a quiet civil ceremony, not a lavish spectacle in three weeks' time during which the final phase of my plan will be carried out.
I will not include a self-destruct mechanism unless absolutely necessary. If it is necessary, it will not be a large red button labelled "Danger: Do Not Push". The big red button marked "Do Not Push" will instead trigger a spray of bullets on anyone stupid enough to disregard it. Similarly, the ON/OFF switch will not clearly be labelled as such.
I will not interrogate my enemies in the inner sanctum -- a small hotel well outside my borders will work just as well.
I will be secure in my superiority. Therefore, I will feel no need to prove it by leaving clues in the form of riddles or leaving my weaker enemies alive to show they pose no threat.
One of my advisors will be an average five-year-old child. Any flaws in my plan that he is able to spot will be corrected before implementation.
All slain enemies will be cremated, or at least have several rounds of ammunition emptied into them, not left for dead at the bottom of the cliff. The announcement of their deaths, as well as any accompanying celebration, will be deferred until after the aforementioned disposal.
The hero is not entitled to a last kiss, a last cigarette, or any other form of last request.
I will never employ any device with a digital countdown. If I find that such a device is absolutely unavoidable, I will set it to activate when the counter reaches 117 and the hero is just putting his plan into operation.
I will never utter the sentence "But before I kill you, there's just one thing I want to know."
When I employ people as advisors, I will occasionally listen to their advice.
I will not have a son. Although his laughably under-planned attempt to usurp power would easily fail, it would provide a fatal distraction at a crucial point in time.
I will not have a daughter. She would be as beautiful as she was evil, but one look at the hero's rugged countenance and she'd betray her own father.
Despite its proven stress-relieving effect, I will not indulge in maniacal laughter. When so occupied, it's too easy to miss unexpected developments that a more attentive individual could adjust to accordingly.
I will hire a talented fashion designer to create original uniforms for my Legions of Terror, as opposed to some cheap knock-offs that make them look like Nazi stormtroopers, Roman footsoldiers, or savage Mongol hordes. All were eventually defeated and I want my troops to have a more positive mind-set.
No matter how tempted I am with the prospect of unlimited power, I will not consume any energy field bigger than my head.
I will keep a special cache of low-tech weapons and train my troops in their use. That way -- even if the heroes manage to neutralize my power generator and/or render the standard-issue energy weapons useless -- my troops will not be overrun by a handful of savages armed with spears and rocks.
I will maintain a realistic assessment of my strengths and weaknesses. Even though this takes some of the fun out of the job, at least I will never utter the line "No, this cannot be! I AM INVINCIBLE!!!" (After that, death is usually instantaneous.)
No matter how well it would perform, I will never construct any sort of machinery which is completely indestructible except for one small and virtually inaccessible vulnerable spot.
No matter how attractive certain members of the rebellion are, there is probably someone just as attractive who is not desperate to kill me. Therefore, I will think twice before ordering a prisoner sent to my bedchamber.
I will never build only one of anything important. All important systems will have redundant control panels and power supplies. For the same reason I will always carry at least two fully loaded weapons at all times.
My pet monster will be kept in a secure cage from which it cannot escape and into which I could not accidentally stumble.
I will dress in bright and cheery colors, and so throw my enemies into confusion.
All bumbling conjurers, clumsy squires, no-talent bards, and cowardly thieves in the land will be preemptively put to death. My foes will surely give up and abandon their quest if they have no source of comic relief.
All naive, busty tavern wenches in my realm will be replaced with surly, world-weary waitresses who will provide no unexpected reinforcement and/or romantic subplot for the hero or his sidekick.
I will not fly into a rage and kill a messenger who brings me bad news just to illustrate how evil I really am. Good messengers are hard to come by.
I won't require high-ranking female members of my organization to wear a stainless-steel bustier. Morale is better with a more casual dress-code. Similarly, outfits made entirely from black leather will be reserved for formal occasions.
I will not turn into a snake. It never helps.
I will not grow a goatee. In the old days they made you look diabolic. Now they just make you look like a disaffected member of Generation X.
I will not imprison members of the same party in the same cell block, let alone the same cell. If they are important prisoners, I will keep the only key to the cell door on my person instead of handing out copies to every bottom-rung guard in the prison.
If my trusted lieutenant tells me my Legions of Terror are losing a battle, I will believe him. After all, he's my trusted lieutenant.
If an enemy I have just killed has a younger sibling or offspring anywhere, I will find them and have them killed immediately, instead of waiting for them to grow up harboring feelings of vengeance towards me in my old age.
If I absolutely must ride into battle, I will certainly not ride at the forefront of my Legions of Terror, nor will I seek out my opposite number among his army.
I will be neither chivalrous nor sporting. If I have an unstoppable superweapon, I will use it as early and as often as possible instead of keeping it in reserve.
Once my power is secure, I will destroy all those pesky time-travel devices.
When I capture the hero, I will make sure I also get his dog, monkey, ferret, or whatever sickeningly cute little animal capable of untying ropes and filching keys happens to follow him around.
I will maintain a healthy amount of skepticism when I capture the beautiful rebel and she claims she is attracted to my power and good looks and will gladly betray her companions if I just let her in on my plans.
I will only employ bounty hunters who work for money. Those who work for the pleasure of the hunt tend to do dumb things like even the odds to give the other guy a sporting chance.
I will make sure I have a clear understanding of who is responsible for what in my organization. For example, if my general screws up I will not draw my weapon, point it at him, say "And here is the price for failure," then suddenly turn and kill some random underling.
If an advisor says to me "My liege, he is but one man. What can one man possibly do?", I will reply "This." and kill the advisor.
If I learn that a callow youth has begun a quest to destroy me, I will slay him while he is still a callow youth instead of waiting for him to mature.
I will treat any beast which I control through magic or technology with respect and kindness. Thus if the control is ever broken, it will not immediately come after me for revenge.
If I learn the whereabouts of the one artifact which can destroy me, I will not send all my troops out to seize it. Instead I will send them out to seize something else and quietly put a Want-Ad in the local paper.
My main computers will have their own special operating system that will be completely incompatible with standard IBM and Macintosh powerbooks.
If one of my dungeon guards begins expressing concern over the conditions in the beautiful princess' cell, I will immediately transfer him to a less people-oriented position.
I will hire a team of board-certified architects and surveyors to examine my castle and inform me of any secret passages and abandoned tunnels that I might not know about.
If the beautiful princess that I capture says "I'll never marry you! Never, do you hear me, NEVER!!!", I will say "Oh well" and kill her.
I will not strike a bargain with a demonic being then attempt to double-cross it simply because I feel like being contrary.
The deformed mutants and odd-ball psychotics will have their place in my Legions of Terror. However before I send them out on important covert missions that require tact and subtlety, I will first see if there is anyone else equally qualified who would attract less attention.
My Legions of Terror will be trained in basic marksmanship. Any who cannot learn to hit a man-sized target at 10 meters will be used for target practice.
Before employing any captured artifacts or machinery, I will carefully read the owner's manual.
If it becomes necessary to escape, I will never stop to pose dramatically and toss off a one-liner.
I will never build a sentient computer smarter than I am.
My five-year-old child advisor will also be asked to decipher any code I am thinking of using. If he breaks the code in under 30 seconds, it will not be used. Note: this also applies to passwords.
If my advisors ask "Why are you risking everything on such a mad scheme?", I will not proceed until I have a response that satisfies them.
I will design fortress hallways with no alcoves or protruding structural supports which intruders could use for cover in a firefight.
Bulk trash will be disposed of in incinerators, not compactors. And they will be kept hot, with none of that nonsense about flames going through accessible tunnels at predictable intervals.
I will see a competent psychiatrist and get cured of all extremely unusual phobias and bizarre compulsive habits which could prove to be a disadvantage.
If I must have computer systems with publically available terminals, the maps they display of my complex will have a room clearly marked as the Main Control Room. That room will be the Execution Chamber. The actual main control room will be marked as Sewage Overflow Containment.
My security keypad will actually be a fingerprint scanner. Anyone who watches someone press a sequence of buttons or dusts the pad for fingerprints then subsequently tries to enter by repeating that sequence will trigger the alarm system.
No matter how many shorts we have in the system, my guards will be instructed to treat every surveillance camera malfunction as a full-scale emergency.
I will spare someone who saved my life sometime in the past. This is only reasonable as it encourages others to do so. However, the offer is good one time only. If they want me to spare them again, they'd better save my life again.
All midwives will be banned from the realm. All babies will be delivered at state-approved hospitals. Orphans will be placed in foster-homes, not abandoned in the woods to be raised by creatures of the wild.
When my guards split up to search for intruders, they will always travel in groups of at least two. They will be trained so that if one of them disappears mysteriously while on patrol, the other will immediately initiate an alert and call for backup, instead of quizzically peering around a corner.
If I decide to test a lieutenant's loyalty and see if he/she should be made a trusted lieutenant, I will have a crack squad of marksmen standing by in case the answer is no.
If all the heroes are standing together around a strange device and begin to taunt me, I will pull out a conventional weapon instead of using my unstoppable superweapon on them.
I will not agree to let the heroes go free if they win a rigged contest, even though my advisors assure me it is impossible for them to win.
When I create a multimedia presentation of my plan designed so that my five-year-old advisor can easily understand the details, I will not label the disk "Project Overlord" and leave it lying on top of my desk.
I will instruct my Legions of Terror to attack the hero en masse, instead of standing around waiting while members break off and attack one or two at a time.
If the hero runs up to my roof, I will not run up after him and struggle with him in an attempt to push him over the edge. I will also not engage him at the edge of a cliff. (In the middle of a rope-bridge over a river of molten lava is not even worth considering.)
If I have a fit of temporary insanity and decide to give the hero the chance to reject a job as my trusted lieutentant, I will retain enough sanity to wait until my current trusted lieutenant is out of earshot before making the offer.
I will not tell my Legions of Terror "And he must be taken alive!" The command will be "And try to take him alive if it is reasonably practical."
If my doomsday device happens to come with a reverse switch, as soon as it has been employed it will be melted down and made into limited-edition commemorative coins.
If my weakest troops fail to eliminate a hero, I will send out my best troops instead of wasting time with progressively stronger ones as he gets closer and closer to my fortress.
If I am fighting with the hero atop a moving platform, have disarmed him, and am about to finish him off and he glances behind me and drops flat, I too will drop flat instead of quizzically turning around to find out what he saw.
I will not shoot at any of my enemies if they are standing in front of the crucial support beam to a heavy, dangerous, unbalanced structure.
If I'm eating dinner with the hero, put poison in his goblet, then have to leave the table for any reason, I will order new drinks for both of us instead of trying to decide whether or not to switch with him.
I will not have captives of one sex guarded by members of the opposite sex.
I will not use any plan in which the final step is horribly complicated, e.g. "Align the 12 Stones of Power on the sacred altar then activate the medallion at the moment of total eclipse." Instead it will be more along the lines of "Push the button."
I will make sure that my doomsday device is up to code and properly grounded.
My vats of hazardous chemicals will be covered when not in use. Also, I will not construct walkways above them.
If a group of henchmen fail miserably at a task, I will not berate them for incompetence then send the same group out to try the task again.
After I captures the hero's superweapon, I will not immediately disband my legions and relax my guard because I believe whoever holds the weapon is unstoppable. After all, the hero held the weapon and I took it from him.
I will not design my Main Control Room so that every workstation is facing away from the door.
I will not ignore the messenger that stumbles in exhausted and obviously agitated until my personal grooming or current entertainment is finished. It might actually be important.
If I ever talk to the hero on the phone, I will not taunt him. Instead I will say this his dogged perseverance has given me new insight on the futility of my evil ways and that if he leaves me alone for a few months of quiet contemplation I will likely return to the path of righteousness. (Heroes are incredibly gullible in this regard.)
If I decide to hold a double execution of the hero and an underling who failed or betrayed me, I will see to it that the hero is scheduled to go first.
When arresting prisoners, my guards will not allow them to stop and grab a useless trinket of purely sentimental value.
My dungeon will have its own qualified medical staff complete with bodyguards. That way if a prisoner becomes sick and his cellmate tells the guard it's an emergency, the guard will fetch a trauma team instead of opening up the cell for a look.
My door mechanisms will be designed so that blasting the control panel on the outside seals the door and blasting the control panel on the inside opens the door, not vice versa.
My dungeon cells will not be furnished with objects that contain reflective surfaces or anything that can be unravelled.
If an attractive young couple enters my realm, I will carefully monitor their activities. If I find they are happy and affectionate, I will ignore them. However if circumstance have forced them together against their will and they spend all their time bickering and criticizing each other except during the intermittent occasions when they are saving each others' lives at which point there are hints of sexual tension, I will immediately order their execution.
Any data file of crucial importance will be padded to 1.45Mb in size.
Finally, to keep my subjects permanently locked in a mindless trance, I will provide each of them with free unlimited Internet access.
Monday, October 23, 2006
Friday, October 20, 2006
You stole my yellow ribbon? Really??
Well, my week has been one of those weeks where you're really aware. Every moment of the day is in your experience. There's no "time flying". Nope, you get to be tired at 5pm, then go to class and experience every excruciating moment in detail.
So, I walked out to my car yesterday. Bear in mind that the parking guy is very cool. He always tucks my car near the booth, generally keeps an eye on it, and is just nice whenever I come by. I get my keys and walk to my car. I see my car and immediately notice something's wrong. It doesn't look right. Yup, someone stole my magnetic "Support our Troops" yellow ribbon on my trunk in the back. Yes, really. Someone took it! Now, it could have been when I took it to the post office to drop off a package earlier. You never know. But I didn't notice it until later.
And no, it didn't drop off the car. Magnets don't just drop off. It was firmly and neatly on there. I move it every car wash so I don't get "ring around the ribbon". And now it's gone. I'm ok with it if someone really needed to support our troops more than I did. That's ok. But if you took it because you don't agree with me? Now that's just not right. We call that petty theft where I come from. And you stole my political statement! The only one I have right now! Gosh darn it, I finally take a stand on something, and someone steals it! Sheesh :-)
Have a nice weekend!
So, I walked out to my car yesterday. Bear in mind that the parking guy is very cool. He always tucks my car near the booth, generally keeps an eye on it, and is just nice whenever I come by. I get my keys and walk to my car. I see my car and immediately notice something's wrong. It doesn't look right. Yup, someone stole my magnetic "Support our Troops" yellow ribbon on my trunk in the back. Yes, really. Someone took it! Now, it could have been when I took it to the post office to drop off a package earlier. You never know. But I didn't notice it until later.
And no, it didn't drop off the car. Magnets don't just drop off. It was firmly and neatly on there. I move it every car wash so I don't get "ring around the ribbon". And now it's gone. I'm ok with it if someone really needed to support our troops more than I did. That's ok. But if you took it because you don't agree with me? Now that's just not right. We call that petty theft where I come from. And you stole my political statement! The only one I have right now! Gosh darn it, I finally take a stand on something, and someone steals it! Sheesh :-)
Have a nice weekend!
TGIF
Hooray for friday, right? We won't mention that I'm still swamped at work, the gym screwed up and took 8X the money out of my account that they were supposed to (ie. no money for the weekend, and car payment will bounce, hooray!), and I haven't had time to finish anything beyond homework all week. But I need to start the studying for exams...
Besides, I have a pumpkin bagel, Fraggle Rock is being made into a movie, and the Sabres are just rockng the universe with their undefeated record. Things can't be all bad, eh?
Besides, I have a pumpkin bagel, Fraggle Rock is being made into a movie, and the Sabres are just rockng the universe with their undefeated record. Things can't be all bad, eh?
Thursday, October 19, 2006
China
http://chinaprogram.tjsl.edu/index.htm
Here's the info on the program. I sure as hell hope this works out for me. I really want to do this!
Here's the info on the program. I sure as hell hope this works out for me. I really want to do this!
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
SNOW!
http://melblackrose.blogspot.com/
Super Mom! put up her Buffalo snow in October pics.
They're kinda cool. Disturbing, but cool.
Someone hand me some hot cocoa, I'm cold just looking at them.
Super Mom! put up her Buffalo snow in October pics.
They're kinda cool. Disturbing, but cool.
Someone hand me some hot cocoa, I'm cold just looking at them.
foobiscuitmollywhompers kinda day...
Yeah, I just like that word. Kinda sums up the completely nutso kinda day I've had.
China deposit is in. China deposit is in, teehee....
So I spent the morning creating reports to get my boss reimbursed on his trips and such. Paper + receipts = money!Then I get a random call to deliver a wealth of champagne to a client for my boss, when I've got a training meeting in 1/2 hour and our new and exciting bookeeper has expressed a need to meet with me and pick my limited knowledge on invoices out of my brain. Yup, I'll go deliver the champagne! This monkey just stamps the invoices and moves them from one box to another, really!
I dash all over town, wondering if wearing these shoes anymore is a good idea (dammit, they're cute and motorcycle-ish, all at once!). So I drive the 35 miles, lug 35 lbs. of alcohol into the client's office, meet his rather lovely assistant and she helps me in depositing it in his office. The office vultures are already eyeing the shi-shi bubbly as I leave. I wonder if it's gonna last until the client gets back. I hope so!
I attempt to find affordable lunch. No luck. I go with protein-laden instead, and enjoy my roast beef and cheddar goodness. Then I dash to Admin law, and manage to stay awake. I actually do enjoy it, I just wish I could manage to schedule a class that's not right after a meal sometime before I leave school.
Call my honey. Tell him honeyed things. Discuss the fabulous plan for birthday goodness involving less money that truly necessary. Relish the concept of sleeping in this weekend.
Dash back to work, find desk under pile of paper, stuff, random scrawled notes asking for help, and things I just don't do. Sort through with a large shovel and flame thrower. Toss the stuff I don't do on my partner's desk(I'm kind, I think it's stuff she does, honestly!) and attempt to finish the reports. The database threatens to crash again. I give it the hairy eyeball and do the no-crashy dance. No word on whether it worked, which is a good thing.
And I'm still attempting to get the last report done. Blah, reports.
Off to practice soon, my arm finally works again... Finally.
China deposit is in. China deposit is in, teehee....
So I spent the morning creating reports to get my boss reimbursed on his trips and such. Paper + receipts = money!Then I get a random call to deliver a wealth of champagne to a client for my boss, when I've got a training meeting in 1/2 hour and our new and exciting bookeeper has expressed a need to meet with me and pick my limited knowledge on invoices out of my brain. Yup, I'll go deliver the champagne! This monkey just stamps the invoices and moves them from one box to another, really!
I dash all over town, wondering if wearing these shoes anymore is a good idea (dammit, they're cute and motorcycle-ish, all at once!). So I drive the 35 miles, lug 35 lbs. of alcohol into the client's office, meet his rather lovely assistant and she helps me in depositing it in his office. The office vultures are already eyeing the shi-shi bubbly as I leave. I wonder if it's gonna last until the client gets back. I hope so!
I attempt to find affordable lunch. No luck. I go with protein-laden instead, and enjoy my roast beef and cheddar goodness. Then I dash to Admin law, and manage to stay awake. I actually do enjoy it, I just wish I could manage to schedule a class that's not right after a meal sometime before I leave school.
Call my honey. Tell him honeyed things. Discuss the fabulous plan for birthday goodness involving less money that truly necessary. Relish the concept of sleeping in this weekend.
Dash back to work, find desk under pile of paper, stuff, random scrawled notes asking for help, and things I just don't do. Sort through with a large shovel and flame thrower. Toss the stuff I don't do on my partner's desk(I'm kind, I think it's stuff she does, honestly!) and attempt to finish the reports. The database threatens to crash again. I give it the hairy eyeball and do the no-crashy dance. No word on whether it worked, which is a good thing.
And I'm still attempting to get the last report done. Blah, reports.
Off to practice soon, my arm finally works again... Finally.
Lap dances for Charity
https://shopping.freedomisnotfree.com/freedomproducts/pc-20-2-americas-heroes-2007-calendar.aspx
Yup, new t-shirt time. This calendar was pointed out to me by a friend (FallingInto Forty).
He wants a shirt to reflect his charitable actions. I'll be designing it this week for Cafe Press.
Go buy a calendar, all you silly people who say you support our troops! It's an excellent cause, and quite a, um, well packaged one at that. :-)
Yup, new t-shirt time. This calendar was pointed out to me by a friend (FallingInto Forty).
He wants a shirt to reflect his charitable actions. I'll be designing it this week for Cafe Press.
Go buy a calendar, all you silly people who say you support our troops! It's an excellent cause, and quite a, um, well packaged one at that. :-)
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Way of the Fluffy Kitten
Ok, so apparently this is the week for my body to tell me I'm meek and weak again. I can't move my left arm much, sleep still eludes me, and I definitely need more protein in my diet. Not to mention my angst over little things like traffic and parental shortfalls.
So I'll just have to lie here looking cute, and attempt to get the stuff done for the week that I need to. I think I'm getting a telegram from my body to take a break. I'm better this week, but still feeling slow. Fighter practice on Sunday felt great, but now two days later my shield arm barely works around the muscle pain. Yay, muscle pain.
Got paper done. It's ass, but then it's describing a political decision, so it's gonna sound ass. Not very lawyerly, but then I'm not really all that concerned about that lately. Decent grade would be lovely. My spelling and punctuation is good. It's done. I followed the given outline, I think.
Did some research on body weight exercises today. Found a good link that describes a bunch of exercises that all the various gurus want to charge you $49.95 for their book on it. Yup, better to have the link. I need to see if this guy has advertising on his site. If he does, I'm going to go click on all his ads. http://www.combatfitness.co.uk/
And I need to write a letter to the Mayor. Traffic is getting ridiculous getting from the 94 into downtown. The trip on the 94 is taking about 10-15 minutes. The trip to get from the edge of town to my building on B street is taking an additional 20-30 minutes in the morning. Add it up, and I'm getting cranky. The problem is all the lane closures downtown. This morning I tried any side street I could, and they were all blocked up due to closing 2 lanes on H Street. I was having a good morning until I got stuck in that. Remind me again why it is desirable to close 2 lanes of the major exit street off of the 94 before 9:30 in the morning? Thanks for creating my headache. Time to write a letter.
This fluffy kitten is a bit miffy today. Partner out of the office, so the universe assumes I'm psychic and know her job as well as mine. Personally, I might if I wanted to be office babysitter for the rest of my life. But see Exhibit A: Law School. Yeah, no, thanks. I'm done attempting to impress the world with my task juggling with shiny attitude skills. I'd rather have a career. I'd rather actually be respected for what I know rather than my ability to fill the copy machine while answering phones and delivering the mail. Granted, I know I don't know crap about being a lawyer. I'm hoping my piece of paper and eventual passing grade on the CA Bar will help. Or I'll just go start an exercise program. That seems lucrative.
Handing in my deposit on China tonight. Yay!
In the meantime, I'm going to go meditate on my inner conflict. Or my belly button lint. Or traffic. Errr, maybe not traffic.
So I'll just have to lie here looking cute, and attempt to get the stuff done for the week that I need to. I think I'm getting a telegram from my body to take a break. I'm better this week, but still feeling slow. Fighter practice on Sunday felt great, but now two days later my shield arm barely works around the muscle pain. Yay, muscle pain.
Got paper done. It's ass, but then it's describing a political decision, so it's gonna sound ass. Not very lawyerly, but then I'm not really all that concerned about that lately. Decent grade would be lovely. My spelling and punctuation is good. It's done. I followed the given outline, I think.
Did some research on body weight exercises today. Found a good link that describes a bunch of exercises that all the various gurus want to charge you $49.95 for their book on it. Yup, better to have the link. I need to see if this guy has advertising on his site. If he does, I'm going to go click on all his ads. http://www.combatfitness.co.uk/
And I need to write a letter to the Mayor. Traffic is getting ridiculous getting from the 94 into downtown. The trip on the 94 is taking about 10-15 minutes. The trip to get from the edge of town to my building on B street is taking an additional 20-30 minutes in the morning. Add it up, and I'm getting cranky. The problem is all the lane closures downtown. This morning I tried any side street I could, and they were all blocked up due to closing 2 lanes on H Street. I was having a good morning until I got stuck in that. Remind me again why it is desirable to close 2 lanes of the major exit street off of the 94 before 9:30 in the morning? Thanks for creating my headache. Time to write a letter.
This fluffy kitten is a bit miffy today. Partner out of the office, so the universe assumes I'm psychic and know her job as well as mine. Personally, I might if I wanted to be office babysitter for the rest of my life. But see Exhibit A: Law School. Yeah, no, thanks. I'm done attempting to impress the world with my task juggling with shiny attitude skills. I'd rather have a career. I'd rather actually be respected for what I know rather than my ability to fill the copy machine while answering phones and delivering the mail. Granted, I know I don't know crap about being a lawyer. I'm hoping my piece of paper and eventual passing grade on the CA Bar will help. Or I'll just go start an exercise program. That seems lucrative.
Handing in my deposit on China tonight. Yay!
In the meantime, I'm going to go meditate on my inner conflict. Or my belly button lint. Or traffic. Errr, maybe not traffic.
Monday, October 16, 2006
Realizations
Hmm, realized something today as I trundled back and forth to class from work while contemplating the format of my paper to be finished tonight. I realized that I really don't feel terribly supported by my family in this whole law school thing, nor have I for most of the career choices I've made in my life. My sister comes the closest - she's actually ecouraged me some, and bought the heavy-duty backpack I carry my massive books in. But the general response I get from them on just about everything I do is "why the hell would you want to do that?"
Now imagine for a moment that you apply for a really difficult to get, prestigious job and get it. It requires graduation from one of the most highly regarded law enforcment academys in the world. And no one from your family shows up for your graduation. They stopped for lunch instead. Yeah.
How about calling your family to tell them you got a full scholarship to graduate school, and your parents aren't happy for you? In fact, your father hates your future profession. Nor will they assist you in any way, shape or form in getting the required degree. Great.
And when you need help to get funding for classes you need to graduate, instead of running up another $10,000 in debt, no one will help you out with a cosign. And we're not talking calculus here. Gotta love that frugality they tout so often...
Yeah, as much as I love my brother and I'm happy he's getting married, I'm not looking forward to seeing the family at his wedding. I won't be answering questions about law school if I can avoid it. Not because I don't enjoy it, but simply because I don't feel like sharing my accomplishments with people who have gone out of their way to show their lack of support for me. I'm not doing anything that terribly strange or weird or unique. But I usually get treated like I'm wearing a circus clown outfit to most family events. Folks are friendly, but there's something stilted in the interaction. Like they're pretending I'm normal. Funny, I thought I was normal...
So, I'll make a dress to wear so we have something to talk about that doesn't involve my career. They're ok with the sewing thing. They'd better be. I've been sewing since I was about 10, for crying out loud! And it's nice and neutral. Unless they hate it, and at this point, I don't give a damn.
Yeah, I'm just not going to tell most of them about China until I'm leaving. Some things are better that way. I was wondering why I was feeling a bit stressed as I put in my application for China. Yeah, time to punt those feelings out of the hopper. I've got enough to worrry about without feeling annoyed at my family. So what's "what the hell would you want to do that for?" in Mandarin?
By the way, if anyone knows of a good part time evening job around Xmas I can apply for in the evenings, let me know. I'm thinking it would be smart to make some extra cash for the month of December. Tuition for China is due in February! Deposit is going in this week!
Now imagine for a moment that you apply for a really difficult to get, prestigious job and get it. It requires graduation from one of the most highly regarded law enforcment academys in the world. And no one from your family shows up for your graduation. They stopped for lunch instead. Yeah.
How about calling your family to tell them you got a full scholarship to graduate school, and your parents aren't happy for you? In fact, your father hates your future profession. Nor will they assist you in any way, shape or form in getting the required degree. Great.
And when you need help to get funding for classes you need to graduate, instead of running up another $10,000 in debt, no one will help you out with a cosign. And we're not talking calculus here. Gotta love that frugality they tout so often...
Yeah, as much as I love my brother and I'm happy he's getting married, I'm not looking forward to seeing the family at his wedding. I won't be answering questions about law school if I can avoid it. Not because I don't enjoy it, but simply because I don't feel like sharing my accomplishments with people who have gone out of their way to show their lack of support for me. I'm not doing anything that terribly strange or weird or unique. But I usually get treated like I'm wearing a circus clown outfit to most family events. Folks are friendly, but there's something stilted in the interaction. Like they're pretending I'm normal. Funny, I thought I was normal...
So, I'll make a dress to wear so we have something to talk about that doesn't involve my career. They're ok with the sewing thing. They'd better be. I've been sewing since I was about 10, for crying out loud! And it's nice and neutral. Unless they hate it, and at this point, I don't give a damn.
Yeah, I'm just not going to tell most of them about China until I'm leaving. Some things are better that way. I was wondering why I was feeling a bit stressed as I put in my application for China. Yeah, time to punt those feelings out of the hopper. I've got enough to worrry about without feeling annoyed at my family. So what's "what the hell would you want to do that for?" in Mandarin?
By the way, if anyone knows of a good part time evening job around Xmas I can apply for in the evenings, let me know. I'm thinking it would be smart to make some extra cash for the month of December. Tuition for China is due in February! Deposit is going in this week!
Ahh, Monday
Well, I had a lovely weekend, and I hope you did too.
Friday night I was exhausted, so after running around all day doing the Alumni golf tourney and a stop off at a friend's to discuss baking and the merits of cheap wine, I wrapped myself around my honey and crashed out. Unfortunately, it is maintenance time for my car, so I had to get up early to get the car to the shop. Luckily, I was able to get a ride back (yay honey!) while they worked on the car and got a glorious nap. I even got homework done before the car was ready. And it was cheaper than expected, and they fixed all the little annoying things that are still covered under the extended warranty. I now have an idiot buzzer for when I leave my lights on! Hooray! Hopefully that means I won't leave my lights on as much....
Saturday evening was a blast! Fabulous dinner, stop off at the Shout House, and much fun! Food was terriffic - Yes, the Fish market is a chain, but for a chain they have excellent seafood. And I kinda like the busy, family atmosphere. We had tickets to the Symphony as well, but we were more in the mood for a party atmosphere, so off to the Shout House. It was fun, and we met a bunch of random folks all around us. Lots of goofy human theatre at that place, and the drinks are pretty good.
Sunday was practice and homework. And a paper to do, which isn't done yet. Blah. Practice was frustrating. Sure, I've been on the pell, but I realized that I have a set stance for when I'm in armor that I don't use on the pell. I will at least be using my shield at the pell for a while, and I might end up in armor hitting the pell a bit. I just move differently, and while I can do some stuff unencumbered, it's not translating at all when I'm in armor. Blah. I can explain what I need to be doing, I just can't so it in armor. Grrrrr, argh, blah. Annoying, and I got a bit upset with myself. Sure, I was sick for 3 weeks, but I really lost a lot of muscle. I need to get back in the gym and kick my ass back into shape. My calves shrank by 4 inches overall - I could tell from the ties on my boots. I had a lot extra to use to tie them yesterday.
Then I went home and tackled my paper. I'm about halfway done, but it wasn't enough to get out to the birthday celebration last night. I really was trying to make it, but I just wasn't comfortable with the amount I had done. I think it's a few more hours of work tonight. And homework to finish for tomorrow. But I did work on stuff for about 5 hours, which is a marathon for me. Short breaks to focus my head, but I trudged steadily through it. I'll finish up tonight and hand it in tomorrow. Yay!
Friday night I was exhausted, so after running around all day doing the Alumni golf tourney and a stop off at a friend's to discuss baking and the merits of cheap wine, I wrapped myself around my honey and crashed out. Unfortunately, it is maintenance time for my car, so I had to get up early to get the car to the shop. Luckily, I was able to get a ride back (yay honey!) while they worked on the car and got a glorious nap. I even got homework done before the car was ready. And it was cheaper than expected, and they fixed all the little annoying things that are still covered under the extended warranty. I now have an idiot buzzer for when I leave my lights on! Hooray! Hopefully that means I won't leave my lights on as much....
Saturday evening was a blast! Fabulous dinner, stop off at the Shout House, and much fun! Food was terriffic - Yes, the Fish market is a chain, but for a chain they have excellent seafood. And I kinda like the busy, family atmosphere. We had tickets to the Symphony as well, but we were more in the mood for a party atmosphere, so off to the Shout House. It was fun, and we met a bunch of random folks all around us. Lots of goofy human theatre at that place, and the drinks are pretty good.
Sunday was practice and homework. And a paper to do, which isn't done yet. Blah. Practice was frustrating. Sure, I've been on the pell, but I realized that I have a set stance for when I'm in armor that I don't use on the pell. I will at least be using my shield at the pell for a while, and I might end up in armor hitting the pell a bit. I just move differently, and while I can do some stuff unencumbered, it's not translating at all when I'm in armor. Blah. I can explain what I need to be doing, I just can't so it in armor. Grrrrr, argh, blah. Annoying, and I got a bit upset with myself. Sure, I was sick for 3 weeks, but I really lost a lot of muscle. I need to get back in the gym and kick my ass back into shape. My calves shrank by 4 inches overall - I could tell from the ties on my boots. I had a lot extra to use to tie them yesterday.
Then I went home and tackled my paper. I'm about halfway done, but it wasn't enough to get out to the birthday celebration last night. I really was trying to make it, but I just wasn't comfortable with the amount I had done. I think it's a few more hours of work tonight. And homework to finish for tomorrow. But I did work on stuff for about 5 hours, which is a marathon for me. Short breaks to focus my head, but I trudged steadily through it. I'll finish up tonight and hand it in tomorrow. Yay!
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Books Books Books!
So, it occurs to me as I print out my 17th shipping slip for Amazon, that I hate asking for money.
I'm not big on it, I can make my own if given the chance. But I would accept donations of books and crap to sell if folks want to help out. I think I need to have the mother of all garage sales anyways. I'm currently buried in fabric, so I just need to sit and attack the pile until it becomes smaller. And more useful as clothing.
But books seem to be pretty successful. I'm up to $120 in net sales, and around $90 after shipping costs. Not bad for a passive sort of sales. And everyone I know has too many books - cook books, history books, novels, etc.
So if you have books that need to go away, and you want to help, let me know.
I'm not big on it, I can make my own if given the chance. But I would accept donations of books and crap to sell if folks want to help out. I think I need to have the mother of all garage sales anyways. I'm currently buried in fabric, so I just need to sit and attack the pile until it becomes smaller. And more useful as clothing.
But books seem to be pretty successful. I'm up to $120 in net sales, and around $90 after shipping costs. Not bad for a passive sort of sales. And everyone I know has too many books - cook books, history books, novels, etc.
So if you have books that need to go away, and you want to help, let me know.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Letter from Iraq
Falling into Forty always has some good stuff - thanks John! http://fallingintoforty.blogspot.com/
Reposted from Time Magazine:
http://www.time.com/time/world/article/0,8599,1543658-1,00.html
A Marine's letter home, with its frank description of life in "Dante's inferno," has been circulating through generals' in-boxes. We publish it here with the author's approval.Written last month, this straightforward account of life in Iraq by a Marine officer was initially sent just to a small group of family and friends. His honest but wry narration and unusually frank dissection of the mission contrasts sharply with the story presented by both sides of the Iraq war debate, the Pentagon spin masters and fierce critics. Perhaps inevitably, the 'Letter from Iraq' moved quickly beyond the small group of acquantainaces and hit the inboxes of retired generals, officers in the Pentagon, and staffers on Capitol Hill. TIME's Sally B. Donnelly first received a copy three weeks ago but only this week was able to track down the author and verify the document's authenticity. The author wishes to remain anonymous but has allowed us to publish it here — with a few judicious omissions.
All: I haven't written very much from Iraq. There's really not much to write about. More exactly, there's not much I can write about because practically everything I do, read or hear is classified military information or is depressing to the point that I'd rather just forget about it, never mind write about it. The gaps in between all of that are filled with the pure tedium of daily life in an armed camp. So it's a bit of a struggle to think of anything to put into a letter that's worth reading. Worse, this place just consumes you. I work 18-20-hour days, every day. The quest to draw a clear picture of what the insurgents are up to never ends. Problems and frictions crop up faster than solutions. Every challenge demands a response. It's like this every day. Before I know it, I can't see straight, because it's 0400 and I've been at work for 20 hours straight, somehow missing dinner again in the process. And once again I haven't written to anyone. It starts all over again four hours later. It's not really like Ground Hog Day, it's more like a level from Dante's Inferno.
Rather than attempting to sum up the last seven months, I figured I'd just hit the record setting highlights of 2006 in Iraq. These are among the events and experiences I'll remember best.
Worst Case of Deja Vu — I thought I was familiar with the feeling of deja vu until I arrived back here in Fallujah in February. The moment I stepped off of the helicopter, just as dawn broke, and saw the camp just as I had left it ten months before — that was deja vu. Kind of unnerving. It was as if I had never left. Same work area, same busted desk, same chair, same computer, same room, same creaky rack, same . . . everything. Same everything for the next year. It was like entering a parallel universe. Home wasn't 10,000 miles away, it was a different lifetime.
Most Surreal Moment — Watching Marines arrive at my detention facility and unload a truck load of flex-cuffed midgets. 26 to be exact. We had put the word out earlier in the day to the Marines in Fallujah that we were looking for Bad Guy X, who was described as a midget. Little did I know that Fallujah was home to a small community of midgets, who banded together for support since they were considered as social outcasts. The Marines were anxious to get back to the midget colony to bring in the rest of the midget suspects, but I called off the search, figuring Bad Guy X was long gone on his short legs after seeing his companions rounded up by the giant infidels.
Most Profound Man in Iraq — an unidentified farmer in a fairly remote area who, after being asked by Reconnaissance Marines if he had seen any foreign fighters in the area replied "Yes, you."
Worst City in al-Anbar Province — Ramadi, hands down. The provincial capital of 400,000 people. Lots and lots of insurgents killed in there since we arrived in February. Every day is a nasty gun battle. They blast us with giant bombs in the road, snipers, mortars and small arms. We blast them with tanks, attack helicopters, artillery, our snipers (much better than theirs), and every weapon that an infantryman can carry. Every day. Incredibly, I rarely see Ramadi in the news. We have as many attacks out here in the west as Baghdad. Yet, Baghdad has 7 million people, we have just 1.2 million. Per capita, al-Anbar province is the most violent place in Iraq by several orders of magnitude. I suppose it was no accident that the Marines were assigned this area in 2003.
Bravest Guy in al-Anbar Province — Any Explosive Ordnance Disposal Technician (EOD Tech). How'd you like a job that required you to defuse bombs in a hole in the middle of the road that very likely are booby-trapped or connected by wire to a bad guy who's just waiting for you to get close to the bomb before he clicks the detonator? Every day. Sanitation workers in New York City get paid more than these guys. Talk about courage and commitment.
Second Bravest Guy in al-Anbar Province — It's a 20,000 way tie among all these Marines and Soldiers who venture out on the highways and through the towns of al-Anbar every day, not knowing if it will be their last — and for a couple of them, it will be.
Worst E-Mail Message — "The Walking Blood Bank is Activated. We need blood type A+ stat." I always head down to the surgical unit as soon as I get these messages, but I never give blood — there's always about 80 Marines in line, night or day.
Biggest Surprise — Iraqi Police. All local guys. I never figured that we'd get a police force established in the cities in al-Anbar. I estimated that insurgents would kill the first few, scaring off the rest. Well, insurgents did kill the first few, but the cops kept on coming. The insurgents continue to target the police, killing them in their homes and on the streets, but the cops won't give up. Absolutely incredible tenacity. The insurgents know that the police are far better at finding them than we are — and they are finding them. Now, if we could just get them out of the habit of beating prisoners to a pulp . . .
Greatest Vindication — Stocking up on outrageous quantities of Diet Coke from the chow hall in spite of the derision from my men on such hoarding, then having a 122mm rocket blast apart the giant shipping container that held all of the soda for the chow hall. Yep, you can't buy experience.
Biggest Mystery — How some people can gain weight out here. I'm down to 165 lbs. Who has time to eat?
Second Biggest Mystery — if there's no atheists in foxholes, then why aren't there more people at Mass every Sunday?
Favorite Iraqi TV Show — Oprah. I have no idea. They all have satellite TV.
Coolest Insurgent Act — Stealing almost $7 million from the main bank in Ramadi in broad daylight, then, upon exiting, waving to the Marines in the combat outpost right next to the bank, who had no clue of what was going on. The Marines waved back. Too cool.
Most Memorable Scene — In the middle of the night, on a dusty airfield, watching the better part of a battalion of Marines packed up and ready to go home after over six months in al-Anbar, the relief etched in their young faces even in the moonlight. Then watching these same Marines exchange glances with a similar number of grunts loaded down with gear file past — their replacements. Nothing was said. Nothing needed to be said.
Highest Unit Re-enlistment Rate — Any outfit that has been in Iraq recently. All the danger, all the hardship, all the time away from home, all the horror, all the frustrations with the fight here — all are outweighed by the desire for young men to be part of a band of brothers who will die for one another. They found what they were looking for when they enlisted out of high school. Man for man, they now have more combat experience than any Marines in the history of our Corps.
Most Surprising Thing I Don't Miss — Beer. Perhaps being half-stunned by lack of sleep makes up for it.
Worst Smell — Porta-johns in 120 degree heat — and that's 120 degrees outside of the porta-john.
Highest Temperature — I don't know exactly, but it was in the porta-johns. Needed to re-hydrate after each trip to the loo.
Biggest Hassle — High-ranking visitors. More disruptive to work than a rocket attack. VIPs demand briefs and "battlefield" tours (we take them to quiet sections of Fallujah, which is plenty scary for them). Our briefs and commentary seem to have no affect on their preconceived notions of what's going on in Iraq. Their trips allow them to say that they've been to Fallujah, which gives them an unfortunate degree of credibility in perpetuating their fantasies about the insurgency here.
Biggest Outrage — Practically anything said by talking heads on TV about the war in Iraq, not that I get to watch much TV. Their thoughts are consistently both grossly simplistic and politically slanted.
Biggest Offender: Bill O'Reilly.
Best Intel Work — Finding Jill Carroll's kidnappers — all of them. I was mighty proud of my guys that day. I figured we'd all get the Christian Science Monitor for free after this, but none have showed up yet.
Saddest Moment — Having an infantry battalion commander hand me the dog tags of one of my Marines who had just been killed while on a mission with his unit. Hit by a 60mm mortar. He was a great Marine. I felt crushed for a long time afterward. His picture now hangs at the entrance to our section area. We'll carry it home with us when we leave in February.
Best Chuck Norris Moment — 13 May. Bad Guys arrived at the government center in a small town to kidnap the mayor, since they have a problem with any form of government that does not include regular beheadings and women wearing burqahs. There were seven of them. As they brought the mayor out to put him in a pick-up truck to take him off to be beheaded (on video, as usual), one of the Bad Guys put down his machinegun so that he could tie the mayor's hands. The mayor took the opportunity to pick up the machinegun and drill five of the Bad Guys. The other two ran away. One of the dead Bad Guys was on our top twenty wanted list. Like they say, you can't fight City Hall.
Worst Sound — That crack-boom off in the distance that means an IED or mine just went off. You just wonder who got it, hoping that it was a near miss rather than a direct hit. Hear it practically every day.
Second Worst Sound — Our artillery firing without warning. The howitzers are pretty close to where I work. Believe me, outgoing sounds a lot like incoming when our guns are firing right over our heads. They'd about knock the fillings out of your teeth.
Only Thing Better in Iraq Than in the U.S. — Sunsets. Spectacular. It's from all the dust in the air.
Proudest Moment — It's a tie every day, watching our Marines produce phenomenal intelligence products that go pretty far in teasing apart Bad Guy operations in al-Anbar. Every night Marines and Soldiers are kicking in doors and grabbing Bad Guys based on intelligence developed by our guys. We rarely lose a Marine during these raids, they are so well-informed of the objective. A bunch of kids right out of high school shouldn't be able to work so well, but they do.
Happiest Moment — Well, it wasn't in Iraq. There are no truly happy moments here. It was back in California when I was able to hold my family again while home on leave during July.
Most Common Thought — Home. Always thinking of home, of my great wife and the kids. Wondering how everyone else is getting along. Regretting that I don't write more. Yep, always thinking of home.I hope you all are doing well. If you want to do something for me, kiss a cop, flush a toilet, and drink a beer. I'll try to write again before too long — I promise.
Reposted from Time Magazine:
http://www.time.com/time/world/article/0,8599,1543658-1,00.html
A Marine's letter home, with its frank description of life in "Dante's inferno," has been circulating through generals' in-boxes. We publish it here with the author's approval.Written last month, this straightforward account of life in Iraq by a Marine officer was initially sent just to a small group of family and friends. His honest but wry narration and unusually frank dissection of the mission contrasts sharply with the story presented by both sides of the Iraq war debate, the Pentagon spin masters and fierce critics. Perhaps inevitably, the 'Letter from Iraq' moved quickly beyond the small group of acquantainaces and hit the inboxes of retired generals, officers in the Pentagon, and staffers on Capitol Hill. TIME's Sally B. Donnelly first received a copy three weeks ago but only this week was able to track down the author and verify the document's authenticity. The author wishes to remain anonymous but has allowed us to publish it here — with a few judicious omissions.
All: I haven't written very much from Iraq. There's really not much to write about. More exactly, there's not much I can write about because practically everything I do, read or hear is classified military information or is depressing to the point that I'd rather just forget about it, never mind write about it. The gaps in between all of that are filled with the pure tedium of daily life in an armed camp. So it's a bit of a struggle to think of anything to put into a letter that's worth reading. Worse, this place just consumes you. I work 18-20-hour days, every day. The quest to draw a clear picture of what the insurgents are up to never ends. Problems and frictions crop up faster than solutions. Every challenge demands a response. It's like this every day. Before I know it, I can't see straight, because it's 0400 and I've been at work for 20 hours straight, somehow missing dinner again in the process. And once again I haven't written to anyone. It starts all over again four hours later. It's not really like Ground Hog Day, it's more like a level from Dante's Inferno.
Rather than attempting to sum up the last seven months, I figured I'd just hit the record setting highlights of 2006 in Iraq. These are among the events and experiences I'll remember best.
Worst Case of Deja Vu — I thought I was familiar with the feeling of deja vu until I arrived back here in Fallujah in February. The moment I stepped off of the helicopter, just as dawn broke, and saw the camp just as I had left it ten months before — that was deja vu. Kind of unnerving. It was as if I had never left. Same work area, same busted desk, same chair, same computer, same room, same creaky rack, same . . . everything. Same everything for the next year. It was like entering a parallel universe. Home wasn't 10,000 miles away, it was a different lifetime.
Most Surreal Moment — Watching Marines arrive at my detention facility and unload a truck load of flex-cuffed midgets. 26 to be exact. We had put the word out earlier in the day to the Marines in Fallujah that we were looking for Bad Guy X, who was described as a midget. Little did I know that Fallujah was home to a small community of midgets, who banded together for support since they were considered as social outcasts. The Marines were anxious to get back to the midget colony to bring in the rest of the midget suspects, but I called off the search, figuring Bad Guy X was long gone on his short legs after seeing his companions rounded up by the giant infidels.
Most Profound Man in Iraq — an unidentified farmer in a fairly remote area who, after being asked by Reconnaissance Marines if he had seen any foreign fighters in the area replied "Yes, you."
Worst City in al-Anbar Province — Ramadi, hands down. The provincial capital of 400,000 people. Lots and lots of insurgents killed in there since we arrived in February. Every day is a nasty gun battle. They blast us with giant bombs in the road, snipers, mortars and small arms. We blast them with tanks, attack helicopters, artillery, our snipers (much better than theirs), and every weapon that an infantryman can carry. Every day. Incredibly, I rarely see Ramadi in the news. We have as many attacks out here in the west as Baghdad. Yet, Baghdad has 7 million people, we have just 1.2 million. Per capita, al-Anbar province is the most violent place in Iraq by several orders of magnitude. I suppose it was no accident that the Marines were assigned this area in 2003.
Bravest Guy in al-Anbar Province — Any Explosive Ordnance Disposal Technician (EOD Tech). How'd you like a job that required you to defuse bombs in a hole in the middle of the road that very likely are booby-trapped or connected by wire to a bad guy who's just waiting for you to get close to the bomb before he clicks the detonator? Every day. Sanitation workers in New York City get paid more than these guys. Talk about courage and commitment.
Second Bravest Guy in al-Anbar Province — It's a 20,000 way tie among all these Marines and Soldiers who venture out on the highways and through the towns of al-Anbar every day, not knowing if it will be their last — and for a couple of them, it will be.
Worst E-Mail Message — "The Walking Blood Bank is Activated. We need blood type A+ stat." I always head down to the surgical unit as soon as I get these messages, but I never give blood — there's always about 80 Marines in line, night or day.
Biggest Surprise — Iraqi Police. All local guys. I never figured that we'd get a police force established in the cities in al-Anbar. I estimated that insurgents would kill the first few, scaring off the rest. Well, insurgents did kill the first few, but the cops kept on coming. The insurgents continue to target the police, killing them in their homes and on the streets, but the cops won't give up. Absolutely incredible tenacity. The insurgents know that the police are far better at finding them than we are — and they are finding them. Now, if we could just get them out of the habit of beating prisoners to a pulp . . .
Greatest Vindication — Stocking up on outrageous quantities of Diet Coke from the chow hall in spite of the derision from my men on such hoarding, then having a 122mm rocket blast apart the giant shipping container that held all of the soda for the chow hall. Yep, you can't buy experience.
Biggest Mystery — How some people can gain weight out here. I'm down to 165 lbs. Who has time to eat?
Second Biggest Mystery — if there's no atheists in foxholes, then why aren't there more people at Mass every Sunday?
Favorite Iraqi TV Show — Oprah. I have no idea. They all have satellite TV.
Coolest Insurgent Act — Stealing almost $7 million from the main bank in Ramadi in broad daylight, then, upon exiting, waving to the Marines in the combat outpost right next to the bank, who had no clue of what was going on. The Marines waved back. Too cool.
Most Memorable Scene — In the middle of the night, on a dusty airfield, watching the better part of a battalion of Marines packed up and ready to go home after over six months in al-Anbar, the relief etched in their young faces even in the moonlight. Then watching these same Marines exchange glances with a similar number of grunts loaded down with gear file past — their replacements. Nothing was said. Nothing needed to be said.
Highest Unit Re-enlistment Rate — Any outfit that has been in Iraq recently. All the danger, all the hardship, all the time away from home, all the horror, all the frustrations with the fight here — all are outweighed by the desire for young men to be part of a band of brothers who will die for one another. They found what they were looking for when they enlisted out of high school. Man for man, they now have more combat experience than any Marines in the history of our Corps.
Most Surprising Thing I Don't Miss — Beer. Perhaps being half-stunned by lack of sleep makes up for it.
Worst Smell — Porta-johns in 120 degree heat — and that's 120 degrees outside of the porta-john.
Highest Temperature — I don't know exactly, but it was in the porta-johns. Needed to re-hydrate after each trip to the loo.
Biggest Hassle — High-ranking visitors. More disruptive to work than a rocket attack. VIPs demand briefs and "battlefield" tours (we take them to quiet sections of Fallujah, which is plenty scary for them). Our briefs and commentary seem to have no affect on their preconceived notions of what's going on in Iraq. Their trips allow them to say that they've been to Fallujah, which gives them an unfortunate degree of credibility in perpetuating their fantasies about the insurgency here.
Biggest Outrage — Practically anything said by talking heads on TV about the war in Iraq, not that I get to watch much TV. Their thoughts are consistently both grossly simplistic and politically slanted.
Biggest Offender: Bill O'Reilly.
Best Intel Work — Finding Jill Carroll's kidnappers — all of them. I was mighty proud of my guys that day. I figured we'd all get the Christian Science Monitor for free after this, but none have showed up yet.
Saddest Moment — Having an infantry battalion commander hand me the dog tags of one of my Marines who had just been killed while on a mission with his unit. Hit by a 60mm mortar. He was a great Marine. I felt crushed for a long time afterward. His picture now hangs at the entrance to our section area. We'll carry it home with us when we leave in February.
Best Chuck Norris Moment — 13 May. Bad Guys arrived at the government center in a small town to kidnap the mayor, since they have a problem with any form of government that does not include regular beheadings and women wearing burqahs. There were seven of them. As they brought the mayor out to put him in a pick-up truck to take him off to be beheaded (on video, as usual), one of the Bad Guys put down his machinegun so that he could tie the mayor's hands. The mayor took the opportunity to pick up the machinegun and drill five of the Bad Guys. The other two ran away. One of the dead Bad Guys was on our top twenty wanted list. Like they say, you can't fight City Hall.
Worst Sound — That crack-boom off in the distance that means an IED or mine just went off. You just wonder who got it, hoping that it was a near miss rather than a direct hit. Hear it practically every day.
Second Worst Sound — Our artillery firing without warning. The howitzers are pretty close to where I work. Believe me, outgoing sounds a lot like incoming when our guns are firing right over our heads. They'd about knock the fillings out of your teeth.
Only Thing Better in Iraq Than in the U.S. — Sunsets. Spectacular. It's from all the dust in the air.
Proudest Moment — It's a tie every day, watching our Marines produce phenomenal intelligence products that go pretty far in teasing apart Bad Guy operations in al-Anbar. Every night Marines and Soldiers are kicking in doors and grabbing Bad Guys based on intelligence developed by our guys. We rarely lose a Marine during these raids, they are so well-informed of the objective. A bunch of kids right out of high school shouldn't be able to work so well, but they do.
Happiest Moment — Well, it wasn't in Iraq. There are no truly happy moments here. It was back in California when I was able to hold my family again while home on leave during July.
Most Common Thought — Home. Always thinking of home, of my great wife and the kids. Wondering how everyone else is getting along. Regretting that I don't write more. Yep, always thinking of home.I hope you all are doing well. If you want to do something for me, kiss a cop, flush a toilet, and drink a beer. I'll try to write again before too long — I promise.
Sister Neutron Bomb of Reasoned Discussion
Annoying people with too much time on your hands so you're spending it annoying other people, listen up. You need to read this and make it your daily mantra, memorize it, and learn to calm down. There are lots of decaf brands on the market. There are also some excellent logical thought classes around. I can even refer books! Regardless, make this a priority so I can stop this meaningless dreaming of pushing you off a very tall pier into shark infested waters...
Reposted for sheer delight! Rarely do I agree with anything regarding politics, religion, or strategies for changing people's minds. This is, well, as good as it gets for me....Repost or Riposte!
The following is the first communique from a group calling itself Unitarian Jihad. It was sent to me at The Chronicle via an anonymous spam remailer. I have no idea whether other news organizations have received this communique, and, if so, why they have not chosen to print it. Perhaps they fear starting a panic. I feel strongly that the truth, no matter how alarming, trivial or disgusting, must always be told. I am pleased to report that the words below are at least not disgusting:
Greetings to the Imprisoned Citizens of the United States. We are Unitarian Jihad. There is only God, unless there is more than one God. The vote of our God subcommittee is 10-8 in favor of one God, with two abstentions. Brother Flaming Sword of Moderation noted the possibility of there being no God at all, and his objection was noted with love by the secretary.
Greetings to the Imprisoned Citizens of the United States! Too long has your attention been waylaid by the bright baubles of extremist thought. Too long have fundamentalist yahoos of all religions (except Buddhism -- 14-5 vote, no abstentions, fundamentalism subcommittee) made your head hurt. Too long have you been buffeted by angry people who think that God talks to them. You have a right to your moderation! You have the power to be calm! We will use the IED of truth to explode the SUV of dogmatic expression!
People of the United States, why is everyone yelling at you??? Whatever happened to ... you know, everything? Why is the news dominated by nutballs saying that the Ten Commandments have to be tattooed inside the eyelids of every American, or that Allah has told them to kill Americans in order to rid the world of Satan, or that Yahweh has instructed them to go live wherever they feel like, or that Shiva thinks bombing mosques is a great idea? Sister Immaculate Dagger of Peace notes for the record that we mean no disrespect to Jews, Muslims, Christians or Hindus. Referred back to the committee of the whole for further discussion.
We are Unitarian Jihad. We are everywhere. We have not been born again, nor have we sworn a blood oath. We do not think that God cares what we read, what we eat or whom we sleep with. Brother Neutron Bomb of Serenity notes for the record that he does not have a moral code but is nevertheless a good person, and Unexalted Leader Garrote of Forgiveness stipulates that Brother Neutron Bomb of Serenity is a good person, and this is to be reflected in the minutes.
Beware! Unless you people shut up and begin acting like grown-ups with brains enough to understand the difference between political belief and personal faith, the Unitarian Jihad will begin a series of terrorist-like actions. We will take over television studios, kidnap so-called commentators and broadcast calm, well-reasoned discussions of the issues of the day. We will not try for "balance" by hiring fruitcakes; we will try for balance by hiring non-ideologues who have carefully thought through the issues.
We are Unitarian Jihad. We will appear in public places and require people to shake hands with each other. (Sister Hand Grenade of Love suggested that we institute a terror regime of mandatory hugging, but her motion was not formally introduced because of lack of a quorum.) We will require all lobbyists, spokesmen and campaign managers to dress like trout in public. Televangelists will be forced to take jobs as Xerox repair specialists. Demagogues of all stripes will be required to read Proust out loud in prisons.
We are Unitarian Jihad, and our motto is: "Sincerity is not enough." We have heard from enough sincere people to last a lifetime already. Just because you believe it's true doesn't make it true. Just because your motives are pure doesn't mean you are not doing harm. Get a dog, or comfort someone in a nursing home, or just feed the birds in the park. Play basketball. Lighten up. The world is not out to get you, except in the sense that the world is out to get everyone.
Brother Gatling Gun of Patience notes that he's pretty sure the world is out to get him because everyone laughs when he says he is a Unitarian. There were murmurs of assent around the room, and someone suggested that we buy some Congress members and really stick it to the Baptists. But this was deemed against Revolutionary Principles, and Brother Gatling Gun of Patience was remanded to the Sunday Flowers and Banners committee.
People of the United States! We are Unitarian Jihad! We can strike without warning. Pockets of reasonableness and harmony will appear as if from nowhere! Nice people will run the government again! There will be coffee and cookies in the Gandhi Room after the revolution.
For your Unitarian Jihad name: http://homepage.mac.com/whump/ujname.html
Reposted for sheer delight! Rarely do I agree with anything regarding politics, religion, or strategies for changing people's minds. This is, well, as good as it gets for me....Repost or Riposte!
The following is the first communique from a group calling itself Unitarian Jihad. It was sent to me at The Chronicle via an anonymous spam remailer. I have no idea whether other news organizations have received this communique, and, if so, why they have not chosen to print it. Perhaps they fear starting a panic. I feel strongly that the truth, no matter how alarming, trivial or disgusting, must always be told. I am pleased to report that the words below are at least not disgusting:
Greetings to the Imprisoned Citizens of the United States. We are Unitarian Jihad. There is only God, unless there is more than one God. The vote of our God subcommittee is 10-8 in favor of one God, with two abstentions. Brother Flaming Sword of Moderation noted the possibility of there being no God at all, and his objection was noted with love by the secretary.
Greetings to the Imprisoned Citizens of the United States! Too long has your attention been waylaid by the bright baubles of extremist thought. Too long have fundamentalist yahoos of all religions (except Buddhism -- 14-5 vote, no abstentions, fundamentalism subcommittee) made your head hurt. Too long have you been buffeted by angry people who think that God talks to them. You have a right to your moderation! You have the power to be calm! We will use the IED of truth to explode the SUV of dogmatic expression!
People of the United States, why is everyone yelling at you??? Whatever happened to ... you know, everything? Why is the news dominated by nutballs saying that the Ten Commandments have to be tattooed inside the eyelids of every American, or that Allah has told them to kill Americans in order to rid the world of Satan, or that Yahweh has instructed them to go live wherever they feel like, or that Shiva thinks bombing mosques is a great idea? Sister Immaculate Dagger of Peace notes for the record that we mean no disrespect to Jews, Muslims, Christians or Hindus. Referred back to the committee of the whole for further discussion.
We are Unitarian Jihad. We are everywhere. We have not been born again, nor have we sworn a blood oath. We do not think that God cares what we read, what we eat or whom we sleep with. Brother Neutron Bomb of Serenity notes for the record that he does not have a moral code but is nevertheless a good person, and Unexalted Leader Garrote of Forgiveness stipulates that Brother Neutron Bomb of Serenity is a good person, and this is to be reflected in the minutes.
Beware! Unless you people shut up and begin acting like grown-ups with brains enough to understand the difference between political belief and personal faith, the Unitarian Jihad will begin a series of terrorist-like actions. We will take over television studios, kidnap so-called commentators and broadcast calm, well-reasoned discussions of the issues of the day. We will not try for "balance" by hiring fruitcakes; we will try for balance by hiring non-ideologues who have carefully thought through the issues.
We are Unitarian Jihad. We will appear in public places and require people to shake hands with each other. (Sister Hand Grenade of Love suggested that we institute a terror regime of mandatory hugging, but her motion was not formally introduced because of lack of a quorum.) We will require all lobbyists, spokesmen and campaign managers to dress like trout in public. Televangelists will be forced to take jobs as Xerox repair specialists. Demagogues of all stripes will be required to read Proust out loud in prisons.
We are Unitarian Jihad, and our motto is: "Sincerity is not enough." We have heard from enough sincere people to last a lifetime already. Just because you believe it's true doesn't make it true. Just because your motives are pure doesn't mean you are not doing harm. Get a dog, or comfort someone in a nursing home, or just feed the birds in the park. Play basketball. Lighten up. The world is not out to get you, except in the sense that the world is out to get everyone.
Brother Gatling Gun of Patience notes that he's pretty sure the world is out to get him because everyone laughs when he says he is a Unitarian. There were murmurs of assent around the room, and someone suggested that we buy some Congress members and really stick it to the Baptists. But this was deemed against Revolutionary Principles, and Brother Gatling Gun of Patience was remanded to the Sunday Flowers and Banners committee.
People of the United States! We are Unitarian Jihad! We can strike without warning. Pockets of reasonableness and harmony will appear as if from nowhere! Nice people will run the government again! There will be coffee and cookies in the Gandhi Room after the revolution.
For your Unitarian Jihad name: http://homepage.mac.com/whump/ujname.html
Monday, October 09, 2006
Almost forgot - THE FABRIC DISTRICT!
Yup, I went back to Mecca while I was nearby. I needed to hit the fabric district to get the fabric for the dress for my brother's wedding. Since I hate shopping malls at the moment as everything seems to be made of thin stretch knit, I won't go shopping for a dress. Besides, the wedding is in DC in November. I can't wear some strappy little number without freezing my tookus off. So no CA style dresses.
My honey and I (have I mentioned that he's just fabulous yet?) parked and started the roam. One of the bargain stores had a nice black lace, so I scooped up some of that. Then the hunt for a good brownish-goldish satin began. The original idea was a cocktail dress with a goldeny color under-fabric and a black lace overlay. Somewhat inspired by that black lace cocktail dress from a few weeks ago on Project Runway, but an entirely different shape. And I look crappy in white, so no white. Orkney black and gold sounded doable, so the hunt began.
Well, everyone has that peachy tan color, but the golds were all schoolbus yellow or pumpkin orange. I wanted something somewhat subdued, as Washington DC is the fashion equivalent of a boring navy blue suit. Too bright a color, and I might not be allowed in public ;-) So we kept rummaging. Luckily, a few stores down I found a golden brown with a yellow/green undertone that worked with my skin. We held it up for some of our fellow shoppers and they said I'd look almost naked under the black lace. Umm, perfect?! I got a few yards and we emerged back into the sun to check the color properly. Yup, it looked great with my hair and skin tone. Whew! Biggest part done. Some black satin ribbon, and I'm done.
After giving up on a few stores, I got the ribbon at Levine's and found some fantastic funky furs as well. I'm going to throw some really neat stuff together to sell. I'll post it once it's up on eBay.
So yeah, good times hunting at ye olde fabric district. And since I had a man with me, no sneering, leers, or obnoxious looks from shopkeepers. All in all, a success!
My honey and I (have I mentioned that he's just fabulous yet?) parked and started the roam. One of the bargain stores had a nice black lace, so I scooped up some of that. Then the hunt for a good brownish-goldish satin began. The original idea was a cocktail dress with a goldeny color under-fabric and a black lace overlay. Somewhat inspired by that black lace cocktail dress from a few weeks ago on Project Runway, but an entirely different shape. And I look crappy in white, so no white. Orkney black and gold sounded doable, so the hunt began.
Well, everyone has that peachy tan color, but the golds were all schoolbus yellow or pumpkin orange. I wanted something somewhat subdued, as Washington DC is the fashion equivalent of a boring navy blue suit. Too bright a color, and I might not be allowed in public ;-) So we kept rummaging. Luckily, a few stores down I found a golden brown with a yellow/green undertone that worked with my skin. We held it up for some of our fellow shoppers and they said I'd look almost naked under the black lace. Umm, perfect?! I got a few yards and we emerged back into the sun to check the color properly. Yup, it looked great with my hair and skin tone. Whew! Biggest part done. Some black satin ribbon, and I'm done.
After giving up on a few stores, I got the ribbon at Levine's and found some fantastic funky furs as well. I'm going to throw some really neat stuff together to sell. I'll post it once it's up on eBay.
So yeah, good times hunting at ye olde fabric district. And since I had a man with me, no sneering, leers, or obnoxious looks from shopkeepers. All in all, a success!
Gooooood weekend~
So I drove up to LA this weekend with the man to see the "household" and other related wonderful people. I sent out an email to see if anyone wanted to meet for brunch Sunday. I renewed my First Aid training in the morning, then drove up through the wilds of LA. Spent Saturday evening watching my nephew tire my sister and brother in law out. Wow! My nephew is verbal and cognitively pretty darn sharp! Now, every kid has their talents, and I'm his aunt, but my nephew is smart! We "read" books together and he pointed out everything to me. Much fun!
Sunday we got up and trundled off to a little French bakery for breakfast with the 4 other people who responded to my email. And the 4 turned into 6, then 8, then 11, then we got about 13 folks around a huge, cobbled together table. It was fabulous! There were friends there I hadn't seen in a while(years in some cases). So much fun to sit and catch up, plan to see each other again soon, hear about what everyone is doing. These folks are all very vibrant, distinct folks. I heard about possibilities of one couple moving to Italy, another selling scripts, another applying to one of the top game design studios - very cool stuff!
Just a lot of fun to see everyone and to relax for a while in peace! Kudos to the man for going with me despite a sinus thing hanging on after a week or so. Hopefully he'll be healthy and sparky again soon!
$120 down, $3,880 to go.
Sunday we got up and trundled off to a little French bakery for breakfast with the 4 other people who responded to my email. And the 4 turned into 6, then 8, then 11, then we got about 13 folks around a huge, cobbled together table. It was fabulous! There were friends there I hadn't seen in a while(years in some cases). So much fun to sit and catch up, plan to see each other again soon, hear about what everyone is doing. These folks are all very vibrant, distinct folks. I heard about possibilities of one couple moving to Italy, another selling scripts, another applying to one of the top game design studios - very cool stuff!
Just a lot of fun to see everyone and to relax for a while in peace! Kudos to the man for going with me despite a sinus thing hanging on after a week or so. Hopefully he'll be healthy and sparky again soon!
$120 down, $3,880 to go.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Woohoo!
It's official. I realized it as I hitched up my pants and tied the drawstring pretty substantially.
My pants are way too big for me.
Go me. I'll have to fit in cash for a few pairs of pants in the next few months so I don't look like a bag lady at work.
My pants are way too big for me.
Go me. I'll have to fit in cash for a few pairs of pants in the next few months so I don't look like a bag lady at work.
Hooray for midterms.. Really.
Before I overwhelm you with my enthusiasm for my Evidence midterm tonight, I'll just recount everything I did instead of studying for it last night:
I got home, changed my clothes into my "I'm comfy for studying" clothes. Started my laundry. Opened my mail. Checked my non-existant email since I had been away from it for 30 minutes to get home. Checked my turn based games for possible moves. Pulled all the books I'd sold on Amazon and the shipping slips. Eyeballed my dirty dishes. Changed the sheets on my bed. Folded laundry load number one and started number two. Hit the pell about 500 times, right and left arms. Watched my hands shake afterwards in amusement. Folded load of laundry number two. Cooked dinner and ate. Packaged up the books I sold. Pulled out fabric for Orkney tunics. Did the dishes. Watched Project Runway. Checked the turn based games again. Got ready for bed, and finally looked at my notes to study.
*sigh* Yeah, this is not the road to 4.0... But I am up to $75 towards China!
I'll be panicky cramming tonight before the exam. It's only 10% of the grade, but it would be nice to have an actual handle on this.
I got home, changed my clothes into my "I'm comfy for studying" clothes. Started my laundry. Opened my mail. Checked my non-existant email since I had been away from it for 30 minutes to get home. Checked my turn based games for possible moves. Pulled all the books I'd sold on Amazon and the shipping slips. Eyeballed my dirty dishes. Changed the sheets on my bed. Folded laundry load number one and started number two. Hit the pell about 500 times, right and left arms. Watched my hands shake afterwards in amusement. Folded load of laundry number two. Cooked dinner and ate. Packaged up the books I sold. Pulled out fabric for Orkney tunics. Did the dishes. Watched Project Runway. Checked the turn based games again. Got ready for bed, and finally looked at my notes to study.
*sigh* Yeah, this is not the road to 4.0... But I am up to $75 towards China!
I'll be panicky cramming tonight before the exam. It's only 10% of the grade, but it would be nice to have an actual handle on this.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Max Headroom is dead....
Remember that 80s series with the talking head that talked back to you? Yeah, the animated guy with the blond hair and tendency to lose facial parts when excited. Yup, you know the one. I loved it! I watched every crappy episode about gathering the news, getting the dangerous, exciting scoop, and chasing down the bad guys. Reporting looked exciting, especially in the brave new world of information overload we were in. They'd turn to the camera, fresh from some dramatic event and start reporting. Breathless and excited, they'd turn to the camera and talk to the world, blue eyeshadow all aflutter and serious hair perfect. Every single detail of the situation was important to everyone. All of it was the public right to know! It looked and sounded like just the most amazing thing to do with your life. Everyone listens to you and respects you, right?
Horsehockey! I cry bullshit! That crap inspired me to spend $80,000 on a spiffy private college degree in Television/Radio that sits on my bookshelf at home. I studied for the first year, and basically learned in that year that no one gives a shit. I learned in the second year that I really had nothing to say, as I was too young to have actually experienced enough to have any sort of opinion. In the third year, I despaired of the idiocy and self-importance exhibited by those around me and switched my major to Public Relations in an effort to be slightly more marketable without spending more money. In my fourth year, I graduated with an excellent average, a worthless degree, and a good paying job as an Internal Auditor. Go me. Yup, look at all that media training, counterclockwise down the drain. Except for moments like this.
Yup folks, I'd like to point out a fallacy folks seem to be operating under. More information isn't necessarily better. Really, it's not. There have been studies shown lately that given the range of input, choices, and options on a daily basis, there's a distinct tie between having too many choices, options, and input and being unhappy. There's a huge difference between being kept in the dark, getting fed piles of shit and knowing a few, key points. Perhaps that's the point of piling a law degree on my little brain - I now have a filter. When you fill it with crap, I'll dump it on your head. Easier to think when there's not a pile of meaningless crap on your mind, eh? Unfortunately my friends, not all of us have this luxury. Some folks still insist that they have to know every single aspect of a situation. They gather every possible bit of information in an attempt to understand, yet never spend any time on understanding their own thought processes.
The rule of computers also works for human brains - put in crap for data, you'll get out crap for data. If you don't understand your own biases and blind spots, why do you presume to have a valid, persuasive opinion on something? Do you know what you opinion really is and what it represents? Have you tried what's distasteful to you? Walked in the opposition's shoes as them? Tried on the things you dislike most as truths? Asked the really painful questions of yourself? Did you spend the time to actually look at the issue and figure out what's really being asked? Have you looked at where the data came from? Any decent researcher knows the sources rule: crappy source = worthless drivel. All the most sexy details in the world can't rescue bad facts. Ask questions. Be bold, truth can take it. Fascinating things happen when you just start asking short questions to get long answers. Listen to how things are said and what someone looks like as they say it. My spidey senses from all that government training can tell me when it's a steaming pile of crap by looking at someone. Especially when they're talking. And there's a difference between getting someone's opinion and just listening to what they have to say. Questions are usually required - think about it...
So folks, give your grey matter a break and build a filter for it. Ask why? How? Really? When? Where did that come from? How? You'll thank yourself. I have to rebuild mine regularly when I'm letting shitty things bother me for no useful reason. Just say no to excess crap. And listen to Antisthenes when he says:"Socrates told his students to know themselves. He couldn't guarantee that they had the equipment."
Go in peace to contemplate your ever meaningful navel.
Horsehockey! I cry bullshit! That crap inspired me to spend $80,000 on a spiffy private college degree in Television/Radio that sits on my bookshelf at home. I studied for the first year, and basically learned in that year that no one gives a shit. I learned in the second year that I really had nothing to say, as I was too young to have actually experienced enough to have any sort of opinion. In the third year, I despaired of the idiocy and self-importance exhibited by those around me and switched my major to Public Relations in an effort to be slightly more marketable without spending more money. In my fourth year, I graduated with an excellent average, a worthless degree, and a good paying job as an Internal Auditor. Go me. Yup, look at all that media training, counterclockwise down the drain. Except for moments like this.
Yup folks, I'd like to point out a fallacy folks seem to be operating under. More information isn't necessarily better. Really, it's not. There have been studies shown lately that given the range of input, choices, and options on a daily basis, there's a distinct tie between having too many choices, options, and input and being unhappy. There's a huge difference between being kept in the dark, getting fed piles of shit and knowing a few, key points. Perhaps that's the point of piling a law degree on my little brain - I now have a filter. When you fill it with crap, I'll dump it on your head. Easier to think when there's not a pile of meaningless crap on your mind, eh? Unfortunately my friends, not all of us have this luxury. Some folks still insist that they have to know every single aspect of a situation. They gather every possible bit of information in an attempt to understand, yet never spend any time on understanding their own thought processes.
The rule of computers also works for human brains - put in crap for data, you'll get out crap for data. If you don't understand your own biases and blind spots, why do you presume to have a valid, persuasive opinion on something? Do you know what you opinion really is and what it represents? Have you tried what's distasteful to you? Walked in the opposition's shoes as them? Tried on the things you dislike most as truths? Asked the really painful questions of yourself? Did you spend the time to actually look at the issue and figure out what's really being asked? Have you looked at where the data came from? Any decent researcher knows the sources rule: crappy source = worthless drivel. All the most sexy details in the world can't rescue bad facts. Ask questions. Be bold, truth can take it. Fascinating things happen when you just start asking short questions to get long answers. Listen to how things are said and what someone looks like as they say it. My spidey senses from all that government training can tell me when it's a steaming pile of crap by looking at someone. Especially when they're talking. And there's a difference between getting someone's opinion and just listening to what they have to say. Questions are usually required - think about it...
So folks, give your grey matter a break and build a filter for it. Ask why? How? Really? When? Where did that come from? How? You'll thank yourself. I have to rebuild mine regularly when I'm letting shitty things bother me for no useful reason. Just say no to excess crap. And listen to Antisthenes when he says:"Socrates told his students to know themselves. He couldn't guarantee that they had the equipment."
Go in peace to contemplate your ever meaningful navel.
Bwahahahahahaa....
My evil plan is working. First day of my plan and I'm already halfway to my weekly goal of $100.
Amazon is just the best! And I have no problem going home and listing another 30 books.
Damn, I have a lot of books. Hate to see some go, but then if I haven't touched it in a year and there are no pending projects, then it's out the door!
Amazon is just the best! And I have no problem going home and listing another 30 books.
Damn, I have a lot of books. Hate to see some go, but then if I haven't touched it in a year and there are no pending projects, then it's out the door!
And by the way...
Please don't try to text message my cell phone anymore.
I've shut it off. It costs me money, and I'm not terribly fond of it anyway.
Yes, you actually have to talk to me. Or leave a message. Or something.
I've shut it off. It costs me money, and I'm not terribly fond of it anyway.
Yes, you actually have to talk to me. Or leave a message. Or something.
On my way
So, I went home last night and stayed up wayyyy too late listing books on Amazon. But I've already sold 3 books and made $30 by the time I woke up! Wheee! Since I have 3 bookshelves full of crap, and books hiding all over the house, it should be a good thing to clean out a bit. Sure, eventually the books will run out, and I'll be down to those books I really don't want to part with. But it's a heck of an easier way to make cash that's pretty fast and easy! In about 2 hours, I had listed 50 books. Not too shabby...
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Cafe Press shop...
http://www.cafepress.com/sambalaya
Idea #54 is selling random crap on Cafe Press....
One design up, more to come
Idea #54 is selling random crap on Cafe Press....
One design up, more to come
Goals
Ok, goal #1, besides doing well in my classes, is $1,500 in the savings account by the end of the year. Entirely possible, since I have some of that already in the budget. Even more possible if I can make extra cash with a garage sale, cookie sale, etc. etc.
I'm actually really excited about this program, so I think I can do this. Heck, I'm even considering selling some of my costumes and other random stuff to get this. Tough, but then I have too much stuff anyways.
I'm actually really excited about this program, so I think I can do this. Heck, I'm even considering selling some of my costumes and other random stuff to get this. Tough, but then I have too much stuff anyways.
Starting point
Ok, I have a grand total of $20 towards my China classes.
I have a credit card on the way, not sure how big that is.
I have 9 months, and a long way to go.
So, anybody have any ideas for fundraisers? I think I'm going to be baking a lot of cookies!
I have a credit card on the way, not sure how big that is.
I have 9 months, and a long way to go.
So, anybody have any ideas for fundraisers? I think I'm going to be baking a lot of cookies!
I'm thinking Chinese
Wow! The study in China program is (even with travel and expenses) cheaper than if I bought the same number of credits and stayed here all summer! Damn! I think I'm going to have to pursue that. It would be fantastic, and still allow me to take off 2 months in the summer. And I'd be ahead of the game on getting my electives done!
Here's the deal: I need to take 3 credits of summer classes this summer. Normally, at my school, they'd cost over $900 per credit. Not to mention that I would be in class at least 6 hours per week for something like 10 weeks. Not fun, eh? Let's contrast that with the chance to study for 3-4 weeks in China, pay the same amount (okay, maybe $500 more), have the rest of th summer to regroup, and still get the heck out of the US for the first time in my life! (Canada and Mexico didn't count, eh?)
Not to mention that one of my main concentrations in undergrad was Chinese history and culture. I had a fantastic professor who was just a joy to go to class with. He'd crack jokes in the middle of a thought. It was great. I've always wanted to go, and I'm thinkng this might be a good thing.
Now, to find the $$ to do it! Eek!
Here's the deal: I need to take 3 credits of summer classes this summer. Normally, at my school, they'd cost over $900 per credit. Not to mention that I would be in class at least 6 hours per week for something like 10 weeks. Not fun, eh? Let's contrast that with the chance to study for 3-4 weeks in China, pay the same amount (okay, maybe $500 more), have the rest of th summer to regroup, and still get the heck out of the US for the first time in my life! (Canada and Mexico didn't count, eh?)
Not to mention that one of my main concentrations in undergrad was Chinese history and culture. I had a fantastic professor who was just a joy to go to class with. He'd crack jokes in the middle of a thought. It was great. I've always wanted to go, and I'm thinkng this might be a good thing.
Now, to find the $$ to do it! Eek!
Monday, October 02, 2006
Now, this I'm actually cranky about....
Doesn't look like the Sabres are playing the Ducks this year. Nor does it look like they're playing the LA team either. And they sold the Gulls. Cretins, where the heck am I supposed to watch hockey this year?
One little victory..
Someone told me that I always sounded mad lately in my blogs. That's something that's always been rather difficult for me - expressing those little annoyances of the universe. I wasn't a big venting sort of person until recently, as I tend to not want to burden people with my personal issues, legion that they can be. But a blog is impersonal, public, yet unless you know me you may not understand what's being discussed. I want folks to sometimes know about things, yet I'm not addressing anyone in particular. As for lately, well, I'm sick. I'm always generally cranky when I'm sick. And I have time to sit and think since I usually get restricted from working out and don't have the energy to finish projects. Mix it all up and bake for two weeks, and there you have it.
I tend to think of it as focused, too. There are things I allow on my radar, and things I kick off my radar. If it's something I don't think is worth bothering with, yet it keeps coming up, it annoys me. I have highly limited time and energy for anything not essential or related to my school. So when stupid things happen, as they seem to do a lot lately, I'm doubly annoyed. Hence discussion on the old blog. Better to get something out and smear it all over cyberspace than blowing up in front of someone. Ack. Bit of pressure in the whole grad school thing. But it does make the blog slant towards the annoyances of the world.
So really, my universe is pretty good. I have a handle on my school stuff, social and love lives are good. I freak out about finances, but then, anyone would freak out about my finances (helloooo student debt!). Family is good, and generally talking to each other. I get to start working out again soon. And I may still have a long shot at getting my funding and such together to spend a few weeks in China to get my summer courses rather than staying here in SD. It's still a long shot, but I'm going to try. Hello Prosper.com.....
I tend to think of it as focused, too. There are things I allow on my radar, and things I kick off my radar. If it's something I don't think is worth bothering with, yet it keeps coming up, it annoys me. I have highly limited time and energy for anything not essential or related to my school. So when stupid things happen, as they seem to do a lot lately, I'm doubly annoyed. Hence discussion on the old blog. Better to get something out and smear it all over cyberspace than blowing up in front of someone. Ack. Bit of pressure in the whole grad school thing. But it does make the blog slant towards the annoyances of the world.
So really, my universe is pretty good. I have a handle on my school stuff, social and love lives are good. I freak out about finances, but then, anyone would freak out about my finances (helloooo student debt!). Family is good, and generally talking to each other. I get to start working out again soon. And I may still have a long shot at getting my funding and such together to spend a few weeks in China to get my summer courses rather than staying here in SD. It's still a long shot, but I'm going to try. Hello Prosper.com.....
Friday, September 29, 2006
Engrish
Rules to keep in mind when using the Queen's English:
1. Verbs has to agree with their subjects.
2. Prepositions are not words to end sentences with.
3. And don't start a sentence with a conjunction.
4. It is wrong to ever split an infinitive.
5. Avoid clich?s like the plague. (They're old hat.)
6. Always avoid annoying alliteration.
7. Be more or less specific.
8. Parenthetical remarks (however relevant) are (usually) unnecessary.
9. Also, too, never, ever use repetitive redundancies.
10. No sentence fragments. No comma splices, run-ons are bad too.
11. Contractions aren't helpful and shouldn't be used.
12. Foreign words and phrases are not apropos.
13. Do not be redundant; do not use more words than necessary; it's highly superfluous.
14. One should never generalize.
15. Comparisons are as bad as clich?s.
16. Don't use no double negatives.
17. Eschew ampersands and abbreviations, etc.
18. One-word sentences? Eliminate.
19. Analogies in writing are like feathers on a snake.
20. The passive voice is to be ignored.
21. Eliminate commas, that are, not necessary. Parenthetical words however should be enclosed in commas.
22. Never use a big word when a diminutive one would suffice.
23. Kill all exclamation points!!!!
24. Use words correctly, irregardless of how others use them.
25. Understatement is probably not the best way to propose earth shattering ideas.
26. Use the apostrophe in it's proper place and omit it when its not needed.
27. As Ralph Waldo Emerson said, "I hate quotations. Tell me what you know."
28. If you've heard it once, you've heard it a thousand times: resist hyperbole; not one writer in a million can use it correctly.
29. Puns are for children, not groan readers.
30. Go around the barn at high noon to avoid colloquialisms.
31. Even if a mixed metaphor sings, it should be derailed.
32. Who needs rhetorical questions?
33. Exaggeration is a million times worse than understatement.
34. Proofread carefully to see if you any words out.
1. Verbs has to agree with their subjects.
2. Prepositions are not words to end sentences with.
3. And don't start a sentence with a conjunction.
4. It is wrong to ever split an infinitive.
5. Avoid clich?s like the plague. (They're old hat.)
6. Always avoid annoying alliteration.
7. Be more or less specific.
8. Parenthetical remarks (however relevant) are (usually) unnecessary.
9. Also, too, never, ever use repetitive redundancies.
10. No sentence fragments. No comma splices, run-ons are bad too.
11. Contractions aren't helpful and shouldn't be used.
12. Foreign words and phrases are not apropos.
13. Do not be redundant; do not use more words than necessary; it's highly superfluous.
14. One should never generalize.
15. Comparisons are as bad as clich?s.
16. Don't use no double negatives.
17. Eschew ampersands and abbreviations, etc.
18. One-word sentences? Eliminate.
19. Analogies in writing are like feathers on a snake.
20. The passive voice is to be ignored.
21. Eliminate commas, that are, not necessary. Parenthetical words however should be enclosed in commas.
22. Never use a big word when a diminutive one would suffice.
23. Kill all exclamation points!!!!
24. Use words correctly, irregardless of how others use them.
25. Understatement is probably not the best way to propose earth shattering ideas.
26. Use the apostrophe in it's proper place and omit it when its not needed.
27. As Ralph Waldo Emerson said, "I hate quotations. Tell me what you know."
28. If you've heard it once, you've heard it a thousand times: resist hyperbole; not one writer in a million can use it correctly.
29. Puns are for children, not groan readers.
30. Go around the barn at high noon to avoid colloquialisms.
31. Even if a mixed metaphor sings, it should be derailed.
32. Who needs rhetorical questions?
33. Exaggeration is a million times worse than understatement.
34. Proofread carefully to see if you any words out.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Dance
I’ve been struggling with something for a while now, and I think I just need to spread all the individual issues out and see where they lead. Dancing is bugging me lately. I’m just not that into belly dancing at the moment – not teaching, not performing, not making costumes, etc. While I enjoy the actual act of dancing, I’m not big on the parts that involve other people right now. I’ve never been one to perform for anyone but myself. In the truest spirit of the arts, I’m an artist. My dancing is an expression of myself and my body. I’m not doing it for anyone else’s approval or because I want them to notice me. I’m usually oblivious to anyone else while dancing, which is a good part of the reason why I usually enjoy teaching- it makes me pay attention. But I’m not finding rewards in teaching right now, probably mainly because my time needs to be spent doing something else. Students NEED and I have no time or patience or capacity to serve anyone else’s needs. But it’s frustrating to not be happy with something I used to hunger for.
Maybe it’s the lack of decent outlets. I really enjoy a good dance band. Al Samoud isn’t around where I am much anymore, and while I love good drumming, melody just creates so many more opportunities for choreography. And usually there’s just Allister’s crew with any decent drumming anymore. While I appreciate their drumming, and it is wonderful, with it being the only party with drumming, you get everything on the dance floor. And I do mean everything, and most of it isn’t involving dancing. I think I’m just really disappointed in the lack of any manners, respect, planning, organization, or effort put into ME dance down here anymore. While it’s good to finally have drummers, it’s like the energy put into that is sucking the life out of any party planning. We’re lucky to have rugs, there’s never any lighting or drinking water, there’s a good chance some drunk guy will go stumbling across the dance floor into the dancers, no attempts at creating an actual show or safe space to dance, and no real appreciation for the actual artsy side of things. It’s a nightclub activity now, and that’s not why I dance.
It doesn’t help that I’m tired after fighting all day, and not really keen on the attitude displayed. Folks keep telling me “Sammy, don’t teach stripper moves!”. Gee, thanks for the insult. Frankly, I can make picking up my coffee cup lavicious and lewd, but you won’t chastise me for that. Stripper moves are about attitude. If you act like a stripper, most of the time you’ll look like one, good or bad. If you’re learning to dance to pick up men and flirt, you’re most likely going to look like a stripper, and there’s not a whole lot I can teach that will change that. If you’re out there to actually dance and express yourself, then you’re not really going to look like you’re out on the prowl. And it’s rather annoying to assume that all the girls out there are out there to look sexy. I was trained by folks who tended to make dance parties a more private thing. There was an effort to create individual opportunities to dance alone or in small groups, to actually perform, to keep the nasty comments and catty attitude under control. The art was respected, and not just a spectacle of scantily clad bodies moving. There was a ritual to it, a feeling of community, a love and respect for dancers and audience that pervaded. Dancers were escorted for their safety, and looked after on the dance floor – did they need water? A place to sit? Older dancers taught newer dancers with care, and one’s choice to dance or not wasn’t questioned. This doesn’t happen anymore, at least not anywhere I’ve danced lately.
And let’s get one simple thing straight. Awards. Oh, how I hate awards, for what people think they represent. In the SCA, you get an award because someone had the follow through to write letters. And it wasn’t so outlandish that the Royals gave it to you. Sure there’s a minimum of actual effort involved on your part, but awards are and will always be a popularity contest. I danced the same 3 years ago as I do now, but no one ever said to me then “Gee Sam, why don’t you have any dance awards?” I actually taught more classes then, and was a lot more active. I actually think I was a more focused and better dancer then, but did awards rain out of the sky? No. And they won’t. It’s not that you’re better than anyone else, it’s that someone noticed what you were doing. Now, bear in mind that awards mean going to court, and I’m not fond of that either. No, I really don’t give a crap about awards. If I did, I’d be spending energy on getting some. But I’m not. My award is my law degree, my man’s smile, a good shot on the field, a satisfied smile as I go to bed each night.
So yeah, if I don’t dance, it’s because the settings I’m told to dance in are just not me. It’s like someone saying “Sing” in the middle of the sidewalk. Umm, sure, I love being your performing monkey. It’s not that I can’t, it’s that my creation deserves more than that. And I have no problem being selfish with what I create if it’s going to be treated with ridicule and apathy. I’m just not feeling the love anymore, except when I’m home alone, feeling the groove thing without any distractions.
Maybe it’s the lack of decent outlets. I really enjoy a good dance band. Al Samoud isn’t around where I am much anymore, and while I love good drumming, melody just creates so many more opportunities for choreography. And usually there’s just Allister’s crew with any decent drumming anymore. While I appreciate their drumming, and it is wonderful, with it being the only party with drumming, you get everything on the dance floor. And I do mean everything, and most of it isn’t involving dancing. I think I’m just really disappointed in the lack of any manners, respect, planning, organization, or effort put into ME dance down here anymore. While it’s good to finally have drummers, it’s like the energy put into that is sucking the life out of any party planning. We’re lucky to have rugs, there’s never any lighting or drinking water, there’s a good chance some drunk guy will go stumbling across the dance floor into the dancers, no attempts at creating an actual show or safe space to dance, and no real appreciation for the actual artsy side of things. It’s a nightclub activity now, and that’s not why I dance.
It doesn’t help that I’m tired after fighting all day, and not really keen on the attitude displayed. Folks keep telling me “Sammy, don’t teach stripper moves!”. Gee, thanks for the insult. Frankly, I can make picking up my coffee cup lavicious and lewd, but you won’t chastise me for that. Stripper moves are about attitude. If you act like a stripper, most of the time you’ll look like one, good or bad. If you’re learning to dance to pick up men and flirt, you’re most likely going to look like a stripper, and there’s not a whole lot I can teach that will change that. If you’re out there to actually dance and express yourself, then you’re not really going to look like you’re out on the prowl. And it’s rather annoying to assume that all the girls out there are out there to look sexy. I was trained by folks who tended to make dance parties a more private thing. There was an effort to create individual opportunities to dance alone or in small groups, to actually perform, to keep the nasty comments and catty attitude under control. The art was respected, and not just a spectacle of scantily clad bodies moving. There was a ritual to it, a feeling of community, a love and respect for dancers and audience that pervaded. Dancers were escorted for their safety, and looked after on the dance floor – did they need water? A place to sit? Older dancers taught newer dancers with care, and one’s choice to dance or not wasn’t questioned. This doesn’t happen anymore, at least not anywhere I’ve danced lately.
And let’s get one simple thing straight. Awards. Oh, how I hate awards, for what people think they represent. In the SCA, you get an award because someone had the follow through to write letters. And it wasn’t so outlandish that the Royals gave it to you. Sure there’s a minimum of actual effort involved on your part, but awards are and will always be a popularity contest. I danced the same 3 years ago as I do now, but no one ever said to me then “Gee Sam, why don’t you have any dance awards?” I actually taught more classes then, and was a lot more active. I actually think I was a more focused and better dancer then, but did awards rain out of the sky? No. And they won’t. It’s not that you’re better than anyone else, it’s that someone noticed what you were doing. Now, bear in mind that awards mean going to court, and I’m not fond of that either. No, I really don’t give a crap about awards. If I did, I’d be spending energy on getting some. But I’m not. My award is my law degree, my man’s smile, a good shot on the field, a satisfied smile as I go to bed each night.
So yeah, if I don’t dance, it’s because the settings I’m told to dance in are just not me. It’s like someone saying “Sing” in the middle of the sidewalk. Umm, sure, I love being your performing monkey. It’s not that I can’t, it’s that my creation deserves more than that. And I have no problem being selfish with what I create if it’s going to be treated with ridicule and apathy. I’m just not feeling the love anymore, except when I’m home alone, feeling the groove thing without any distractions.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
ok, this sucks
Ugh, just when I'm thinking my damn cough has gone on too long, and I'm dreading my midterm next week, I find out that yet again I'm not eligible for the new PLUS loan program. Yet again. Unless I miraculously come up with a cosigner, which isn't going to happen. Yay me. Yet again I'm faced with the crappy situation I'm in and no way to relieve the pressure. I have to put aside $300 per month for the next 2 years in order to pay for both summer and the Bar Bri course I need to pass the bar. And that's not counting the $1000 in fees just to take the bar. Then, if I pass, there's another $500 to actually be a Bar member in good standing. Every year. All in all, it's about $8000 that has to miraculously come out of my ass in the next 2 years.
So, my best advice to anyone with a bankruptcy (which apparently is about half of the people I know) is don't go to school within 10 years of a bankruptcy. If there is any doubt that I'm "paying" my debts that got discharged, here's your proof. I have to pay for everything except for my car in cash. Period. There's just not been any relief there. I can't even get a stupid credit card, so don't give me those stupid options. And the sad part is that I had more to live on when I was living off student loans than now when I'm working full time for a larger salalry than most of my friends. Yeah. How's that for reality check?
So here's the deal. With very few exceptions, namely my man and my family, don't bother with Christmas presents, birthday crap, etc. Don't be offended when I don't show up to your dinner out with other people, movies, trips, and other things involving money. I don't have any. In theory, eventually I'll be able to do this crap again. But for now, don't bother. I'd rather not know what I'm missing.
So, my best advice to anyone with a bankruptcy (which apparently is about half of the people I know) is don't go to school within 10 years of a bankruptcy. If there is any doubt that I'm "paying" my debts that got discharged, here's your proof. I have to pay for everything except for my car in cash. Period. There's just not been any relief there. I can't even get a stupid credit card, so don't give me those stupid options. And the sad part is that I had more to live on when I was living off student loans than now when I'm working full time for a larger salalry than most of my friends. Yeah. How's that for reality check?
So here's the deal. With very few exceptions, namely my man and my family, don't bother with Christmas presents, birthday crap, etc. Don't be offended when I don't show up to your dinner out with other people, movies, trips, and other things involving money. I don't have any. In theory, eventually I'll be able to do this crap again. But for now, don't bother. I'd rather not know what I'm missing.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
So, I'm still here. Back to contempation....
Yup, I'm slowly kicking this nasty cough and sinus thing out of my system. Bad news is that the man might have it now. *sigh* hooray for contagions! If it is just a sinus thing, I shouldn't be contagious... So it might be from one of his students as well. But then again, I'm pretty sure he doesn't kiss any of them.. blah. Yup, probably my fault....Sorry baby!
Goodness, I have got to start writing down those random blog topics! I usually think of them while in meetings. Ugh, meetings.. But they are a nice break from paperwork.
Started reading Smashed last night - it's a woman's account of her alcohol use and abuse since she was 13 or so? Fascinating crap. No clue if she's right, but she might have put her finger on why I have issues relating to lots of people my age and younger. She basically ponders early in the book about how alcohol use affects her emotional development in her teens and early 20s. How she didn't have memories of her first kiss, prom, first checking account experience, and how she's viewed as much younger than she is usually. Wow. And based on how many people I know who had similar habits (drinking to drunk more than once or twice per week, or more than 10 times in a month), I'm in the minority. I didn't really start drinking until almost my 20s. Sure, my first drink was a glass of champagne when I was 12, but I hated it. It was weird, and not terribly pleasant. So I was never a drinker until law school. Sure I got drunk in college, but not regularly. Geekdom alert - I was too busy playing role playing games and beating people with padded weapons.. Yeah, geekdom.
But there is a huge difference in relating to some folks that I've always noticed. I tend to have to dumb down my approach, stick to completely white bread Middle America mainstream, and not talk too fast. No jokes, those fall flat. Hi. Nice to meet you. Nice weather were having. But add in a few drinks and someinane conversation and suddenly we're best friends. Or at least they think so. Weird. My sister's friends are like this. We don't mesh in the slightest, but she swears they're the most wonderful people. Most of them I find to be about as complex as my nephew's toys - lots of bright colors, but no real challenge. They don't read books for fun, their idea of research is watching a Discovery channel program, and are pretty happy just soaking up the happy American day to day routine...
Are these folks who grew up on alcohol? Hid with their friends and drank their way through high school? Experimented behind the football stadium? I dunno for sure, but it does make me wonder. Especially with my lack of alcohol through most of my youth. We'll see, but it does pose an interesting question for emotional and mental development and the effects of alcohol.
Goodness, I have got to start writing down those random blog topics! I usually think of them while in meetings. Ugh, meetings.. But they are a nice break from paperwork.
Started reading Smashed last night - it's a woman's account of her alcohol use and abuse since she was 13 or so? Fascinating crap. No clue if she's right, but she might have put her finger on why I have issues relating to lots of people my age and younger. She basically ponders early in the book about how alcohol use affects her emotional development in her teens and early 20s. How she didn't have memories of her first kiss, prom, first checking account experience, and how she's viewed as much younger than she is usually. Wow. And based on how many people I know who had similar habits (drinking to drunk more than once or twice per week, or more than 10 times in a month), I'm in the minority. I didn't really start drinking until almost my 20s. Sure, my first drink was a glass of champagne when I was 12, but I hated it. It was weird, and not terribly pleasant. So I was never a drinker until law school. Sure I got drunk in college, but not regularly. Geekdom alert - I was too busy playing role playing games and beating people with padded weapons.. Yeah, geekdom.
But there is a huge difference in relating to some folks that I've always noticed. I tend to have to dumb down my approach, stick to completely white bread Middle America mainstream, and not talk too fast. No jokes, those fall flat. Hi. Nice to meet you. Nice weather were having. But add in a few drinks and someinane conversation and suddenly we're best friends. Or at least they think so. Weird. My sister's friends are like this. We don't mesh in the slightest, but she swears they're the most wonderful people. Most of them I find to be about as complex as my nephew's toys - lots of bright colors, but no real challenge. They don't read books for fun, their idea of research is watching a Discovery channel program, and are pretty happy just soaking up the happy American day to day routine...
Are these folks who grew up on alcohol? Hid with their friends and drank their way through high school? Experimented behind the football stadium? I dunno for sure, but it does make me wonder. Especially with my lack of alcohol through most of my youth. We'll see, but it does pose an interesting question for emotional and mental development and the effects of alcohol.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Ooh yeah, I'm attractive... yet thoughtful.
I need a snorkel for my sinuses. Yup, it's official. No plague, but I do have a lovely sinus infection. Complete with stuffy nose-sounding voice. Green crap hacked up and all. Ooooh yeah, sexy! So as I sit here, eating my hot fudge sundae pop tarts (yes, i eat whatever I want while sick), I ponder my recent universe for lessons learned. Or something.
Note to self #1 - save up more sick leave. This may be impossible until after flu season, but I really need to have a week saved up for this time of year. A day off of sleeping would have been nice. But then, my vacation was lovely, so no regrets. Perhaps next year some time saved up?
Note to self #2 - It's not worth it to work for a jerk who isn't listening to you. Yay me for sticking to my guns and quitting when I saw the train wreck coming. I knew I might have issues with the law clerk thing. I was just hoping they would come from scheduling, not from the person I was working for. Caveat - I still don't believe anyone actually pays law clerks. Most seem to cycle through them so regularly that a promise of "paying when the project is done" is a joke. What's a project? A lawsuit? There's a water case in Oregon that's been going on for 80 years - you've got to be kidding me!
Note to self #3 - I miss doing actual medieval stuff. Not this Barbie goes to Disneyland crap that seems to pass out here as research. Time to get cracking on that Greek masterpiece I'm working on. Time to go look at old pottery for a while and pick out some motifs. It's not comforting when I can model an outfit from an old Hollywood movie costume and my client is thrilled with it. Ugh. Although it was a cool coat. Just not what I would call accurate :-)
Brains addled. Time to go absorb another gallon of tea and contemplate my navel while attempting to work. Class tonight should be entertaining....
Note to self #1 - save up more sick leave. This may be impossible until after flu season, but I really need to have a week saved up for this time of year. A day off of sleeping would have been nice. But then, my vacation was lovely, so no regrets. Perhaps next year some time saved up?
Note to self #2 - It's not worth it to work for a jerk who isn't listening to you. Yay me for sticking to my guns and quitting when I saw the train wreck coming. I knew I might have issues with the law clerk thing. I was just hoping they would come from scheduling, not from the person I was working for. Caveat - I still don't believe anyone actually pays law clerks. Most seem to cycle through them so regularly that a promise of "paying when the project is done" is a joke. What's a project? A lawsuit? There's a water case in Oregon that's been going on for 80 years - you've got to be kidding me!
Note to self #3 - I miss doing actual medieval stuff. Not this Barbie goes to Disneyland crap that seems to pass out here as research. Time to get cracking on that Greek masterpiece I'm working on. Time to go look at old pottery for a while and pick out some motifs. It's not comforting when I can model an outfit from an old Hollywood movie costume and my client is thrilled with it. Ugh. Although it was a cool coat. Just not what I would call accurate :-)
Brains addled. Time to go absorb another gallon of tea and contemplate my navel while attempting to work. Class tonight should be entertaining....
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Rant Rant Rant
I'm sick, hear me rant. I have 2 topics: dropping the ball and giving flowers as an apology.
Dropping the Ball
Today seems to be the day that everyone who said they would do something for me gets to inform me that they screwed up. Forgot. Never got around to it. So I've had lots of interesting things happen like Internet services shut off, employees not paid, vendors calling me with nasty "pay me" messages. Gotta love that customer service. I'm feeling warm and fuzzy, how about you? So after I shoveled off a few fires from my desk, and put out the last of the burning bits from the nasty vendors, I started informing people of the level of service I expected. Not mean, just direct. Sure, I'm just a admin on the bottom of the totem pole, but I know what keeps people off my back, and I know lack of service from my vendors reflects badly on me. Enough already, I can be nice but rather firm...
Flowers as Apology
I read about a few incidents where folks are giving flowers as an apology. Now, I'm rather opinionated on the use of flowers. I like, no wait, adore flowers! I really really like them. Because my cat tips them over and makes a mess, I only get them for myself rarely. Flowers are for celebration and happiness in my book. Truly. Not for reminding someone of the crappy thing you did every time they look at the flowers.
First example - Mel Gibson. Supposedly he sent a massive $300 bouquet of flowers to the female arresting officer during his little drunk driving incident. While I think the sentiment is a good start, I'd think a well written apology would go a lot further. Hopefully the flowers came with a note, but at the same time, I would have sent something else. Something that isn't a visual reminder of the fact that he got arrested and turned into an anti-Semitic, drunken slurring embarrassment. Free airplane voucher? Massage certificate? Something that fits neatly in an envelope with above mentioned statement of how sorry one is for the situation. I'm just saying.
Second example - Rosie O'Donnell. Apparently her inappropriate use of flowers was for an apology for her blog whining about her new job at The View. She sent the flowers after Barbara Walters was upset by the blog. After reading a snippet in the news, I can see why. Not only is it whinny, but there's an utter lack of spelling, punctuation, or full words. As a fellow journalist, I can feel her pain in hiring someone who can't express their innermost feelings with out using the number 2 as a word. All political and social topics aside, my minimum for getting into the door on a job is at least a showing that you can properly write the English language. Consistently. What you put in your private diary is your own deal, what you publish on a blog is a public representation of who you are. Additional flag on the play for complaining about a job most of us would die to have. Let's see, you sit on a couch for a few hours a day and talk about current social trends and interview celebrities. Gee, rough life. Thanks for sharing. I know it's tough actually having a boss, but yet again, a huge chunk of us have that issue every day and seem to do just fine with it. Flowers? I'm thinking you needed to send something that again, doesn't remind Barbara of your inane lack of grammar skills. Mani-pedi certificate? Massage? Gift cert to a shi-shi store?
If it's a true apology, there's a price involved. Something that says "I'm sorry I've caused you grief, here's something to bring a bit of relaxation into your universe". Flowers are a celebration - are you celebrating your stupidity? Lack of good judgment? The fact that that person is willing to accept something from you at all? While you can get a word in edgewise, better make it actual words. Back to that written apology again. And stay out of flower land. Lameness flag, 10 yard penalty, 1st down. Get creative and think about the person would really enjoy. If flowers say apology to them, go for it. Just remember that on Valentine's Day and their birthday and other special occasions when you really do want the flowers to say something celebratory.
Dropping the Ball
Today seems to be the day that everyone who said they would do something for me gets to inform me that they screwed up. Forgot. Never got around to it. So I've had lots of interesting things happen like Internet services shut off, employees not paid, vendors calling me with nasty "pay me" messages. Gotta love that customer service. I'm feeling warm and fuzzy, how about you? So after I shoveled off a few fires from my desk, and put out the last of the burning bits from the nasty vendors, I started informing people of the level of service I expected. Not mean, just direct. Sure, I'm just a admin on the bottom of the totem pole, but I know what keeps people off my back, and I know lack of service from my vendors reflects badly on me. Enough already, I can be nice but rather firm...
Flowers as Apology
I read about a few incidents where folks are giving flowers as an apology. Now, I'm rather opinionated on the use of flowers. I like, no wait, adore flowers! I really really like them. Because my cat tips them over and makes a mess, I only get them for myself rarely. Flowers are for celebration and happiness in my book. Truly. Not for reminding someone of the crappy thing you did every time they look at the flowers.
First example - Mel Gibson. Supposedly he sent a massive $300 bouquet of flowers to the female arresting officer during his little drunk driving incident. While I think the sentiment is a good start, I'd think a well written apology would go a lot further. Hopefully the flowers came with a note, but at the same time, I would have sent something else. Something that isn't a visual reminder of the fact that he got arrested and turned into an anti-Semitic, drunken slurring embarrassment. Free airplane voucher? Massage certificate? Something that fits neatly in an envelope with above mentioned statement of how sorry one is for the situation. I'm just saying.
Second example - Rosie O'Donnell. Apparently her inappropriate use of flowers was for an apology for her blog whining about her new job at The View. She sent the flowers after Barbara Walters was upset by the blog. After reading a snippet in the news, I can see why. Not only is it whinny, but there's an utter lack of spelling, punctuation, or full words. As a fellow journalist, I can feel her pain in hiring someone who can't express their innermost feelings with out using the number 2 as a word. All political and social topics aside, my minimum for getting into the door on a job is at least a showing that you can properly write the English language. Consistently. What you put in your private diary is your own deal, what you publish on a blog is a public representation of who you are. Additional flag on the play for complaining about a job most of us would die to have. Let's see, you sit on a couch for a few hours a day and talk about current social trends and interview celebrities. Gee, rough life. Thanks for sharing. I know it's tough actually having a boss, but yet again, a huge chunk of us have that issue every day and seem to do just fine with it. Flowers? I'm thinking you needed to send something that again, doesn't remind Barbara of your inane lack of grammar skills. Mani-pedi certificate? Massage? Gift cert to a shi-shi store?
If it's a true apology, there's a price involved. Something that says "I'm sorry I've caused you grief, here's something to bring a bit of relaxation into your universe". Flowers are a celebration - are you celebrating your stupidity? Lack of good judgment? The fact that that person is willing to accept something from you at all? While you can get a word in edgewise, better make it actual words. Back to that written apology again. And stay out of flower land. Lameness flag, 10 yard penalty, 1st down. Get creative and think about the person would really enjoy. If flowers say apology to them, go for it. Just remember that on Valentine's Day and their birthday and other special occasions when you really do want the flowers to say something celebratory.
It's MY word, dammit!
blerk - (adj.) crappy; less than tantalizing; futility as to daily routine; frustrating yet powerless to effect change
Yup, it's my word. I made it up. Here's my big fat timestamped claim to fame. Time to submit a copyright. Not that I'll enforce the damn thing. Just remember who made it up, Sparky!
Yup, it's my word. I made it up. Here's my big fat timestamped claim to fame. Time to submit a copyright. Not that I'll enforce the damn thing. Just remember who made it up, Sparky!
Chicken Soup yet again..
Yup, sick again. Woke up with a scratchy throat, and I'm just done with being sick. I have a Bar reception to go to tonight, and I was supposed to go to practice. Yeah, no practice for me. I need to go home and sleep. A lot. Wrapped in chicken soup. Right after I finish the homework that got added on for the week.
Yup, I'm a grumpy critter who just wants to be left alone. Forgot my books this morning. Dealing with dumbasses about billing at work. Attempting to drown myself in herbal tea and ibuprophen. Blerk.
I'll be under my desk if anyone needs me.
Yup, I'm a grumpy critter who just wants to be left alone. Forgot my books this morning. Dealing with dumbasses about billing at work. Attempting to drown myself in herbal tea and ibuprophen. Blerk.
I'll be under my desk if anyone needs me.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Sometimes I get creative...
Hrmph.. Blogger was down for maintenance. So I wrote a song. It’s official – I’m within 10 lbs of my ideal weight. Without further ado, here’s my less than nice side, expressed in non-obscene, yet somewhat catchy poetics:
(hum along to Willie Nelson’s To All the Girls I’ve Loved Before, you know you wanna)
To all the people I’ve hated before..
Please go faster out my door
It won’t take very long,
I dedicate this song,
To all the folks I’ve hated before.
To all the folks I once distressed,
My ass looks better in this dress.
For helping me to grow,
Like you have down below,
To all the folks I’ve hated before.
The winds of change are always blowing,
Every time I try to say,
The winds of change continue blowing
My real life carried me away.
To all the jerks who shared my gain,
Who now are someone else’s pain.
I’m glad they’re finally gone, I dedicate this song
To all the jerks I’ve hated before
To the real friends who cared for me
Who filled my nights with catty glee.
They live within my heart
To bad we grew apart
To certain friends who cared for me.
To all the idiots I’ve despised before
Who travelled in and out our doors.
It’s time to change the locks
I dedicate this schlock,
To all the idiots I’ve despised before
Craving Girl Strikes Back!
So, I had this craving yesterday. I'd been doing my weekly plan of what to cook, and since fall is hitting, pumpkin things started sounding good. One the way home yesterday, I decide to drop into Wal Mart, get a few things I need and look for canned pumpkin. I know I've seen it there before, right?
Wrong. No dice. Got everything else, but no pumpkin... So I try Rite Aid. I know you're thinking I'm nuts, but again, I've seen it there before during the fall. It must not be thanksgiving time yet (wonder of wonders, they're not decorating for Christmas yet!). But again, no dice..
Last chance - Smart and Final. I know you're thinking "why not go to a supermarket?" Because they take longer. A lot longer. I usually get stuck behind the woman writing a check with 500 coupons. Root canals are shorter and less painful. I kick myself for thinking of this after the weekly foray to the grocery.
So, Smart and Final. I think I'm in love... Yet, I panic as I can't find pumpkin! I roam back and forth, around the woman in a burka speaking something other than English. I get frantic as I can't find it. I even check the freezer - no, no pumpkin pie even.. One more trip through the canned things aisle. I can get a can of salsa the size of my head - where's the pumpkin? And then I spot it, next to the head sized can of vanilla pudding. A can of pumpkin. And it too comes in the 16 lb. head sized can! Can you imagine a head sized can of pumpkin? In my madness and glee of finally finding the damn thing, I grab the huge can in celebration and swear not to run out of pumpkin until this craving is gone...
So I made pumpkin ravioli last night. And yes, 16 lbs. is a LOT of pumpkin. I hope I don't regret this...
Wrong. No dice. Got everything else, but no pumpkin... So I try Rite Aid. I know you're thinking I'm nuts, but again, I've seen it there before during the fall. It must not be thanksgiving time yet (wonder of wonders, they're not decorating for Christmas yet!). But again, no dice..
Last chance - Smart and Final. I know you're thinking "why not go to a supermarket?" Because they take longer. A lot longer. I usually get stuck behind the woman writing a check with 500 coupons. Root canals are shorter and less painful. I kick myself for thinking of this after the weekly foray to the grocery.
So, Smart and Final. I think I'm in love... Yet, I panic as I can't find pumpkin! I roam back and forth, around the woman in a burka speaking something other than English. I get frantic as I can't find it. I even check the freezer - no, no pumpkin pie even.. One more trip through the canned things aisle. I can get a can of salsa the size of my head - where's the pumpkin? And then I spot it, next to the head sized can of vanilla pudding. A can of pumpkin. And it too comes in the 16 lb. head sized can! Can you imagine a head sized can of pumpkin? In my madness and glee of finally finding the damn thing, I grab the huge can in celebration and swear not to run out of pumpkin until this craving is gone...
So I made pumpkin ravioli last night. And yes, 16 lbs. is a LOT of pumpkin. I hope I don't regret this...
Monday, September 18, 2006
Torture has a few benefits...
So, when you're a law student, the big database companies want nothing more than to get you hooked on using their services. So you get oodles of access for free to try and points for constantly using the service. These points are rather valuable at times. Lexis lets you shop at Amazon, Westlaw has a catalog of goodies to pick from. If you're really into saving up, you can get anything from golf clubs to gift certificates for flights.
As I'm not good at saving up points, and part of me believes that those big prizes will never arrive, I've devoted my points to getting those little niceties that make my place a bit easier. Everything from CDs to housewares. My latest purchases? A new, big CD wallet and a knife set. All ordered in the name of data addiction, facilitated by the lovely research database folks.
So when random packages show up at my house, not only am I shopping for free, but they pay the shipping too! Sometimes this suffering has its privileges... Sometimes...
As I'm not good at saving up points, and part of me believes that those big prizes will never arrive, I've devoted my points to getting those little niceties that make my place a bit easier. Everything from CDs to housewares. My latest purchases? A new, big CD wallet and a knife set. All ordered in the name of data addiction, facilitated by the lovely research database folks.
So when random packages show up at my house, not only am I shopping for free, but they pay the shipping too! Sometimes this suffering has its privileges... Sometimes...
Friday, September 15, 2006
Err, ack. Grr... Friday night work, hooray!
Well, I have to vent. I don't have time to vent, but in the interests of my head not exploding, I'm going to.
I just ran home on my lunch to pull out one of my legal files, call the court, weasel out of them the forms needed to be filed, find said forms, email myself the links to them (learned something useful there!) and race back to work. Lunch is apparently not for eating...
Why did I do this? Because a file was on file that I didn't know was on fire. I thought the other file was on fire. But noooo, that file is moving more slowly, oh, and by the way we missed an appearance too. Great. Spiffy. Extra tasty with ranch on it.
So I'll be spending a chunk of my Friday evening getting a bunch of forms filled out and sent off to the signatories so they can be filed on Monday morning. Happy Friday.
I have half a bottle of white wine waiting for me when I get that done. I may not go to Crown tomorrow. We'll see if I get this crap done.
In positive news, I did learn where the CA Judicial Forms live on the Internet in all their glory... Now if I just had a guide to what actually works for what we want to do, that would be spiffy. But nooooo, that's legal advice. I'm supposed to be the one to give that advice, after I pass the Bar. I smell a chicken v. egg problem here. Time to call the library....
Have I mentioned lately how much I hate California flakey? Dammit people, when I say something, could you at least try to remember it? Maybe do what you say you're going to do? Show up when scheduled? Not be pissy when I don't know something you didn't tell me? I'm just saying...
I just ran home on my lunch to pull out one of my legal files, call the court, weasel out of them the forms needed to be filed, find said forms, email myself the links to them (learned something useful there!) and race back to work. Lunch is apparently not for eating...
Why did I do this? Because a file was on file that I didn't know was on fire. I thought the other file was on fire. But noooo, that file is moving more slowly, oh, and by the way we missed an appearance too. Great. Spiffy. Extra tasty with ranch on it.
So I'll be spending a chunk of my Friday evening getting a bunch of forms filled out and sent off to the signatories so they can be filed on Monday morning. Happy Friday.
I have half a bottle of white wine waiting for me when I get that done. I may not go to Crown tomorrow. We'll see if I get this crap done.
In positive news, I did learn where the CA Judicial Forms live on the Internet in all their glory... Now if I just had a guide to what actually works for what we want to do, that would be spiffy. But nooooo, that's legal advice. I'm supposed to be the one to give that advice, after I pass the Bar. I smell a chicken v. egg problem here. Time to call the library....
Have I mentioned lately how much I hate California flakey? Dammit people, when I say something, could you at least try to remember it? Maybe do what you say you're going to do? Show up when scheduled? Not be pissy when I don't know something you didn't tell me? I'm just saying...
Go me!
So, I'm sitting in class last night, listening to the joys of Evidence and moping about the general fact that I can't afford to go clothing shopping anytime soon. Well, at least not in the next week. So I contemplate the possibilities. I could go thrift shopping - $20 buys a lot. But you have to shovel through a lot to get to the good stuff. I could puruse the clearance racks at the mall. But $20 doesn't buy as much there, and I really need more clothes for work. Hmm...
I get through the case where the entire class confuses itself on who's cross examining who, and suddenly it dawns on me! I can sew! Yeah, I know - DUH! But when you concentrate on making medieval and reproduction clothing for a while you tend to forget about real clothes. Not that I'm any sort of modern tailor, but I did the leotard thing for a while - I know stretch! So I'm going through my fabric stash in my head while writing notes on 404(b) exceptions. I remember some black knit stuff and a few funky patterns I have available. Hmm...
So I romp home finally, dump my books and such and dive in. One and one half hours later, I emerge from the sewing room with a brand new, black knit dress. It's not half bad! In fact, it's almost professional. Hmm, I've bought crappier dresses than this in stores! Those Chinese sewers ain't got nothing on me! I was aiming for something I could at least wear comfortably around the house and got something better. Go me!
I get through the case where the entire class confuses itself on who's cross examining who, and suddenly it dawns on me! I can sew! Yeah, I know - DUH! But when you concentrate on making medieval and reproduction clothing for a while you tend to forget about real clothes. Not that I'm any sort of modern tailor, but I did the leotard thing for a while - I know stretch! So I'm going through my fabric stash in my head while writing notes on 404(b) exceptions. I remember some black knit stuff and a few funky patterns I have available. Hmm...
So I romp home finally, dump my books and such and dive in. One and one half hours later, I emerge from the sewing room with a brand new, black knit dress. It's not half bad! In fact, it's almost professional. Hmm, I've bought crappier dresses than this in stores! Those Chinese sewers ain't got nothing on me! I was aiming for something I could at least wear comfortably around the house and got something better. Go me!
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Better now...now with an addiction!
Ok, so I'll stop whining about being sick now. Just rather weird how I felt like Superman on kryptonite. Weak and sniffly with a strange craving for chocolate. I had chocolate for dinner 3 days in a row. Not recommended, it's no wonder my stomach complained regularly.
But I am officially a junkie. Not just any junkie, but a reality tv junkie. It took them a lot of tries, and I attempted not to give in. But they created Project Runway, and it's all over folks. I'm addicted. Hooked. Willing to give up sleep. Plan my wine drinking around it (the show is better with a nice dry Chardonnay). And I swore this would never happen.
So now every Wednesday evening around 10pm, I'm camped out on the couch to see what craptacular fashions get created in a day. I don't feel so bad for some of my attempted outfits that failed miserably after seeing some of theirs. And I'll miss Angela, other than the damn rosettes everywhere! Holly Hobby is right! And it felt good to watch Jeffrey get blasted in the end last night. I'll miss Kaine's Elvis fashion sense, but there was no way he was going to win with those judges. But I'd loooove to see him open a dress shop in some good Southern city. He'd have clients for miles!
So yeah. Addicted. I'm so ashamed. I'm reading water rights cases today in atonement. And I'll hit the pell tonight too for missing practice yesterday. Blah.
But I am officially a junkie. Not just any junkie, but a reality tv junkie. It took them a lot of tries, and I attempted not to give in. But they created Project Runway, and it's all over folks. I'm addicted. Hooked. Willing to give up sleep. Plan my wine drinking around it (the show is better with a nice dry Chardonnay). And I swore this would never happen.
So now every Wednesday evening around 10pm, I'm camped out on the couch to see what craptacular fashions get created in a day. I don't feel so bad for some of my attempted outfits that failed miserably after seeing some of theirs. And I'll miss Angela, other than the damn rosettes everywhere! Holly Hobby is right! And it felt good to watch Jeffrey get blasted in the end last night. I'll miss Kaine's Elvis fashion sense, but there was no way he was going to win with those judges. But I'd loooove to see him open a dress shop in some good Southern city. He'd have clients for miles!
So yeah. Addicted. I'm so ashamed. I'm reading water rights cases today in atonement. And I'll hit the pell tonight too for missing practice yesterday. Blah.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
The fillet/sack of potatos virus...
Just when I think I'm getting better, I feel like ass again. Yesiree bob, I went to work today, ran around like a chicken with my head cut off, and went to class as well mid-day. Got to class and sat down for the first time in a few hours and practically melted like a pat of butter on a hotplate. Suddenly it was hard to sit in my chair as I turned into a human shaped jellyfish!
It's official, this virus/cold thing sucks! I think I'm heading home to vegetate on the couch for the first time in weeks tonight. In a bucket. Hopefully I'll find my spine in there somewhere. If nothing else, maybe I'll kill a level in the new games we got this weekend... Blah.
It's official, this virus/cold thing sucks! I think I'm heading home to vegetate on the couch for the first time in weeks tonight. In a bucket. Hopefully I'll find my spine in there somewhere. If nothing else, maybe I'll kill a level in the new games we got this weekend... Blah.
Ode to my honey...
Well, I had a moment of realizing how fabulous my man is, so in the spirit of blatant self reflection in public forums, I hereby inflict it upon you. If you threw yourself bodily at me in the past few years and I didn't catch, pay attention. It's probably because you missed one of these. Work on them for the sake of womankind. As for you, my man, I think this is relevant enough for the rest of the universe as well as you :-) My apologies for the overly public stuff.
1. He does what he says he's going to do. Eureka! What a concept! I can get a statement of what he intends to do, and with minor variations, he does it. Even if it has nothing at all to do with me, he's consistent. Ding Ding Ding! This point is missed consistently on surveys of comparable men of a similar age and geographic area. There will be a story about it in the next National Geographic...
2. He tells me basic, necessary information in response to a question. Yes, I want to join you for the penguin performance art expo this weekend. No, I don't like petrified walnuts. Yes, I'd like to see you tonight, but I'm in Swaziland, so you're out of luck. No, what you just said sucked, and I'm hurt by it... No drama, no inflections of what could be, no blank stares, no overwhelming agenda of need. Just useful info that makes it possible for two confused people to interact.
3. He has a life. Despite occasionally getting crap from the rest of you, he has a life. And he defends his time working on his life. Actual goals are in his plans, and they don't just revolve around what's for dinner! He's not interested, without really good inducement, in picking up his universe and changing it for one person. Damn. That's hot...
4. He's clever without being an ass or a wuss. Yes, this is possible - it's not a fairy tale. And he can tell me what he thinks without demeaning me in the process. He treats people with respect, even while telling them they're idiots and is willing to stick around to discuss why he feels that way.
Gosh, I'm sure there's more here, but I do need to do work today.
1. He does what he says he's going to do. Eureka! What a concept! I can get a statement of what he intends to do, and with minor variations, he does it. Even if it has nothing at all to do with me, he's consistent. Ding Ding Ding! This point is missed consistently on surveys of comparable men of a similar age and geographic area. There will be a story about it in the next National Geographic...
2. He tells me basic, necessary information in response to a question. Yes, I want to join you for the penguin performance art expo this weekend. No, I don't like petrified walnuts. Yes, I'd like to see you tonight, but I'm in Swaziland, so you're out of luck. No, what you just said sucked, and I'm hurt by it... No drama, no inflections of what could be, no blank stares, no overwhelming agenda of need. Just useful info that makes it possible for two confused people to interact.
3. He has a life. Despite occasionally getting crap from the rest of you, he has a life. And he defends his time working on his life. Actual goals are in his plans, and they don't just revolve around what's for dinner! He's not interested, without really good inducement, in picking up his universe and changing it for one person. Damn. That's hot...
4. He's clever without being an ass or a wuss. Yes, this is possible - it's not a fairy tale. And he can tell me what he thinks without demeaning me in the process. He treats people with respect, even while telling them they're idiots and is willing to stick around to discuss why he feels that way.
Gosh, I'm sure there's more here, but I do need to do work today.
The plague season
I have survived the beginning of the plague season.
It started on Sunday, when I generally felt out of it. Tried exercise, no dice. Tried lunch, not the problem. Tried a nap, could have slept all day. But I persevered and just went on as if nothing was wrong.
By 10am Monday, I felt like ass. Exhausted, stomach unhappy, sniffly and pitiful. I went home, after sticking out a 6 hour day. And slept. And slept some more. And did I mention sleep? I did that again, right after my nap. Woke up Tuesday morning and decided life was too short not to take care of myself a bit longer. And slept. Did homework between sleeping. Actually did a lot of homework, all things considered. But then, sitting with a book in my lap was about the most strenuous thing I could handle. I got a fever while doing dishes. Lord help me, I hope the briefs I wrote will work for class!
So, long sleepy story short, I'm better. Not sure I'm up for fighter practice tonight, but at least I'm not falling asleep in my keyboard while sniffling anymore. And yes, I'm getting enough sleep on the weekends and such. Really, I am taking care of myself. But sometimes the bug just gets you.
Stay frosty...
It started on Sunday, when I generally felt out of it. Tried exercise, no dice. Tried lunch, not the problem. Tried a nap, could have slept all day. But I persevered and just went on as if nothing was wrong.
By 10am Monday, I felt like ass. Exhausted, stomach unhappy, sniffly and pitiful. I went home, after sticking out a 6 hour day. And slept. And slept some more. And did I mention sleep? I did that again, right after my nap. Woke up Tuesday morning and decided life was too short not to take care of myself a bit longer. And slept. Did homework between sleeping. Actually did a lot of homework, all things considered. But then, sitting with a book in my lap was about the most strenuous thing I could handle. I got a fever while doing dishes. Lord help me, I hope the briefs I wrote will work for class!
So, long sleepy story short, I'm better. Not sure I'm up for fighter practice tonight, but at least I'm not falling asleep in my keyboard while sniffling anymore. And yes, I'm getting enough sleep on the weekends and such. Really, I am taking care of myself. But sometimes the bug just gets you.
Stay frosty...
Monday, September 11, 2006
Pitiful...
Well, I'm working on my fourth week of classes this week. I've missed one night of classes due to dealing with personnel issues at work. And now, it's starting early. Yup, I think I'm sick. I'm all sniffly and pitiful today, and I'm attempting to calculate how bad it would be to miss class today, work as much of a full day at work as possible, and head home a bit early to sleep and finish homework for tomorrow.
I am about 1/4 done with the semester. Most classes, you get 3 absences. I've been trying to save those for later in the semester for when I'm well and truly sick. But, I think I AM well and truly sick. I was feeling kind of out of it all day yesterday as it was. I thought it was from being entirely off my sleep and exercise schedule. But now I'm thinking flu or cold bug.
Other issue - I have really no time off at work at the moment. I kind of killed that for Pennsic. Entirely worth it, but now that means I truly do need to be at work for a full 8 hours. So, to make my day shorter so I can go home and sleep, that means skipping class and leaving here about 2:30. Yeah, doing the sick time accounting gets complex with work and school.
Doesn't help that I'm contemplating the value of doing as much outlining and prep work on my paper as well as making a few calls on my law clerk job. Am I trading one form of work for another? Will I really get some sleep tonight if I head home early? Am I sinking my own ship early in the semester? Ugh, this stinks. I could very well survive my whole day today, it's not that bad. And save the time off for a later, much more serious illness. Or am I setting myself up for turning this cold into something worse? I'll see how I feel at 12:30 when it's time to leave for class...
I am about 1/4 done with the semester. Most classes, you get 3 absences. I've been trying to save those for later in the semester for when I'm well and truly sick. But, I think I AM well and truly sick. I was feeling kind of out of it all day yesterday as it was. I thought it was from being entirely off my sleep and exercise schedule. But now I'm thinking flu or cold bug.
Other issue - I have really no time off at work at the moment. I kind of killed that for Pennsic. Entirely worth it, but now that means I truly do need to be at work for a full 8 hours. So, to make my day shorter so I can go home and sleep, that means skipping class and leaving here about 2:30. Yeah, doing the sick time accounting gets complex with work and school.
Doesn't help that I'm contemplating the value of doing as much outlining and prep work on my paper as well as making a few calls on my law clerk job. Am I trading one form of work for another? Will I really get some sleep tonight if I head home early? Am I sinking my own ship early in the semester? Ugh, this stinks. I could very well survive my whole day today, it's not that bad. And save the time off for a later, much more serious illness. Or am I setting myself up for turning this cold into something worse? I'll see how I feel at 12:30 when it's time to leave for class...
Friday, September 08, 2006
Scheduling hell....
Oh bugger! I have to stop doing the personal training thing for a while...
I talked to my fantastic trainer today, and we're just both too busy to find a time that works for us. We're planning on restarting again in December, but for the moment, I just can't seem to consistently get away from work. I can get to the gym to work out, just not at any particular time each week. And he doesn't work past 2pm, which leaves those afternoons when I actually do workout out of the picture.
So, my task, should I choose to accept it, is to continue kicking my own ass into shape, and get to the gym and practice regularly. I think I can keep it mostly up, provided I get to the gym. It makes a vast difference in my sleep and stress levels. And now I know what works. My jeans look fantastic on me again, hooray!
Only annoyance at the moment is the simple fact that I think I left my demi gauntlets at Pennsic. Grrr... With friends, but no word back on whether they found them. So, time to replace another simple piece of gear before I go back to sword and board.
Have a lovely weekend, I'm off to get a cell phone for my parents!
I talked to my fantastic trainer today, and we're just both too busy to find a time that works for us. We're planning on restarting again in December, but for the moment, I just can't seem to consistently get away from work. I can get to the gym to work out, just not at any particular time each week. And he doesn't work past 2pm, which leaves those afternoons when I actually do workout out of the picture.
So, my task, should I choose to accept it, is to continue kicking my own ass into shape, and get to the gym and practice regularly. I think I can keep it mostly up, provided I get to the gym. It makes a vast difference in my sleep and stress levels. And now I know what works. My jeans look fantastic on me again, hooray!
Only annoyance at the moment is the simple fact that I think I left my demi gauntlets at Pennsic. Grrr... With friends, but no word back on whether they found them. So, time to replace another simple piece of gear before I go back to sword and board.
Have a lovely weekend, I'm off to get a cell phone for my parents!
Thursday, September 07, 2006
How did they do this without the Internet?
Ok, it's official. I have no idea how anyone practiced law without the use of computers.
So I have this paper to do for Land Use that's pretty basic. You find a planning decision that is about to be decided or has just been decided. You find the supporting documentation and write a paper outlining the proposal and the action taken. The whole thing is about 5-6 pages, double spaced. I've written love letters longer than that :-)
Well, I merrily found my issue, found the online agenda and submitted documentation, printed everything out, and I'll check and see if there's anything else I need once I read it this weekend. All this from the SD Planning Commission website, right? It's all right there, I just need to print it off and make sense of it.
What I can't imagine is looking all this crap up offline at the courthouse, copying all of it, praying you have it all, and having to slog to the meeting to see what happens. Not only are all of my documents online, but a video of the meeting is there too! Talk about assisting the terminally lazy! It's fabulous!
Thank goodness for technology. I'm pretty sure I'm the only anal idiot who's already got my paper research almost done, but I'd prefer to plan ahead for my pater procrastination. The writing always kills me.
So I have this paper to do for Land Use that's pretty basic. You find a planning decision that is about to be decided or has just been decided. You find the supporting documentation and write a paper outlining the proposal and the action taken. The whole thing is about 5-6 pages, double spaced. I've written love letters longer than that :-)
Well, I merrily found my issue, found the online agenda and submitted documentation, printed everything out, and I'll check and see if there's anything else I need once I read it this weekend. All this from the SD Planning Commission website, right? It's all right there, I just need to print it off and make sense of it.
What I can't imagine is looking all this crap up offline at the courthouse, copying all of it, praying you have it all, and having to slog to the meeting to see what happens. Not only are all of my documents online, but a video of the meeting is there too! Talk about assisting the terminally lazy! It's fabulous!
Thank goodness for technology. I'm pretty sure I'm the only anal idiot who's already got my paper research almost done, but I'd prefer to plan ahead for my pater procrastination. The writing always kills me.
Priorities
Well folks, my plate is officially full. Manageable, but full. I'm even considering not taking the law clerk job because they guy won't stop bugging me while I'm at work. I told him nights and weekends, and I mean it. And even then, there's a limit to what I can do with that time. I HAVE to spend down time. No exceptions. I want to see my man and relax for crying out loud.
I might be nuts for trying this law clerk thing, we'll see how it goes. Problem is that I desperately need something on my resume that says I have a clue. Even if only for 6 months, it's vastly better than nothing. And I'm learning real crap. It's just a bit of a planning headache in the meantime. Spontaneity is going to be scarce for a while...
So yeah, my head just might explode. Especially if work doesn't calm down soon. We really need to stop rearranging people's offices with a day's notice. Especially since I'm the lucky girl who gets to organize it all, hoo-fucking-ray.
Have a nice day kids. Don't be pissy when I say I'm busy. I am. Deal. In theory it means I'll be a lawyer soon.
I might be nuts for trying this law clerk thing, we'll see how it goes. Problem is that I desperately need something on my resume that says I have a clue. Even if only for 6 months, it's vastly better than nothing. And I'm learning real crap. It's just a bit of a planning headache in the meantime. Spontaneity is going to be scarce for a while...
So yeah, my head just might explode. Especially if work doesn't calm down soon. We really need to stop rearranging people's offices with a day's notice. Especially since I'm the lucky girl who gets to organize it all, hoo-fucking-ray.
Have a nice day kids. Don't be pissy when I say I'm busy. I am. Deal. In theory it means I'll be a lawyer soon.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
cross your fingers
So, I might have a law clerk job...
After hours, evenings and weekends. In real estate.
Inside my head, I'm jumping up and down. We'll see if I get it....
eek!
After hours, evenings and weekends. In real estate.
Inside my head, I'm jumping up and down. We'll see if I get it....
eek!
Hrmphpppppt....
Ok this Tuesday, Thursday thing is going to be painful for the next few months. Granted, it's vastly better than spreading the pain through the whole week. But going to work by 7:30, hitting hte gym at lunch, leaving around 5ish, going to class from 6-10, then stumbling home is just freaking nuts! I got out of class and had a weird "I need to eat, yet I'm wired and tired all at once" feeling. Add this to watching what I'm eating and wow, I think I'm crazy...
Granted, now that I've gottten 2 of 3 books in the mail I can go home tonight after work and shuffle through homework in the comfort of my hobbit hole. I like that going home after work thing - it's tasty! There's an excellent chance I'm not going to practice tonight, if only because of the novelty of doing my homework at home. And I'm contemplating a bit of quality time on the XBox. Sure, I'm a bit more focused when I study at the library. But boy, can I clean when I need a break in studying at home. I finally found the top of my desk on Sunday, not to mention hanging the thread rack and cleaning out one of the shelves in the cabinet. And my apartment needs some love. It told me today it's feeling neglected. There's also nothing more fun than chasing the cats with the vacuum - looks of absolute terror on their faces!
So yeah, I can do this 15 hour day thing. I truly can. I just have to take care of myself and pace things a bit to be sure I get fun and sleep and food in there somewhere too!
Granted, now that I've gottten 2 of 3 books in the mail I can go home tonight after work and shuffle through homework in the comfort of my hobbit hole. I like that going home after work thing - it's tasty! There's an excellent chance I'm not going to practice tonight, if only because of the novelty of doing my homework at home. And I'm contemplating a bit of quality time on the XBox. Sure, I'm a bit more focused when I study at the library. But boy, can I clean when I need a break in studying at home. I finally found the top of my desk on Sunday, not to mention hanging the thread rack and cleaning out one of the shelves in the cabinet. And my apartment needs some love. It told me today it's feeling neglected. There's also nothing more fun than chasing the cats with the vacuum - looks of absolute terror on their faces!
So yeah, I can do this 15 hour day thing. I truly can. I just have to take care of myself and pace things a bit to be sure I get fun and sleep and food in there somewhere too!
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Sept Potrero
Sooo, I had a great war this weekend. Granted, it was hardly bigger than a Brigade practice, but heck, we should have more brigade practices like this!
The weather was actually really nice. Hot, a bit windy, but definitely nice. We nabbed a great spot behind the Romani that was all trees.
Fighting was good - same folks we usually fight. We fielded a line of 1/2 regular Orkneys and 1/2 guys trying out fighting with us. We worked well together - I have so missed my guys while fighting all over the known world for the last year! It was great to be able to march in and know the guy next to you would hold the line, crush them in a charge, and work with you on the spear line. Lots of talking and working together, it was good to see!
Evil Squirrel Move #2 is almost perfected - Big John laughed his ass off the first time he saw me do it. It's Evil Squirrel move #2 because I use one of the guys to hide behind, then pop out to the left and gack the hell out of whoever is facing off against them. They never know what hit them! I've got my point control down to a really nice feel. Especially since I retaped that spear of Riley's that I've been using. Good lord, I think he had the kitchen sink taped in there. It took me almost an hour to get down to the shaft and clean all the crap off of it. I plunked on the tip kit from Mandrake Armory (go buy them, they rock!) and voila! No more tip heavy spear! It worked like a charm...I think I gacked V 3 times in a row before deciding I'd tormented him enough. He's a good guy, he deserves not to have to res every 10 seconds :-)
BTW, in case you're wondering, Evil Squirrel Move #1 is when I actually have a secondary or I'm fighting sword and board and I basically run up your spear like a rabid squirrel. A few folks have experienced that one, it amuses me. But I haven't found a loving secondary to carry yet. It's next on my list. Right after kicking ass with a sword and board.
And yes, I willingly did push ups this weekend. It was amusing. Good to know I can easily do 10. Now to perfect the non-girly ones... Lordy, I'm turning into one of them.
Did some dancing - Allister and his guys were laying down the groove thing at Iron Maiden every time I stopped by. I stopped and danced a few times, it was fun. But I definitely need more sleep and down time while fighting. I usually shut down by midnight for need of sleep. I love to dance, but it's definitely not my focus at the moment. Good to see some of the girls using their new moves, too...
And N finally got his AoA, right as he's bitching about not getting it a few months ago. We'd all just settled into an evening of hanging by the fire when he gets summoned to the Baron's presence. He comes back his lordship. We had a good laugh and called him Lord N all night. Nothing like good timing - Good Game, Baron!
The weather was actually really nice. Hot, a bit windy, but definitely nice. We nabbed a great spot behind the Romani that was all trees.
Fighting was good - same folks we usually fight. We fielded a line of 1/2 regular Orkneys and 1/2 guys trying out fighting with us. We worked well together - I have so missed my guys while fighting all over the known world for the last year! It was great to be able to march in and know the guy next to you would hold the line, crush them in a charge, and work with you on the spear line. Lots of talking and working together, it was good to see!
Evil Squirrel Move #2 is almost perfected - Big John laughed his ass off the first time he saw me do it. It's Evil Squirrel move #2 because I use one of the guys to hide behind, then pop out to the left and gack the hell out of whoever is facing off against them. They never know what hit them! I've got my point control down to a really nice feel. Especially since I retaped that spear of Riley's that I've been using. Good lord, I think he had the kitchen sink taped in there. It took me almost an hour to get down to the shaft and clean all the crap off of it. I plunked on the tip kit from Mandrake Armory (go buy them, they rock!) and voila! No more tip heavy spear! It worked like a charm...I think I gacked V 3 times in a row before deciding I'd tormented him enough. He's a good guy, he deserves not to have to res every 10 seconds :-)
BTW, in case you're wondering, Evil Squirrel Move #1 is when I actually have a secondary or I'm fighting sword and board and I basically run up your spear like a rabid squirrel. A few folks have experienced that one, it amuses me. But I haven't found a loving secondary to carry yet. It's next on my list. Right after kicking ass with a sword and board.
And yes, I willingly did push ups this weekend. It was amusing. Good to know I can easily do 10. Now to perfect the non-girly ones... Lordy, I'm turning into one of them.
Did some dancing - Allister and his guys were laying down the groove thing at Iron Maiden every time I stopped by. I stopped and danced a few times, it was fun. But I definitely need more sleep and down time while fighting. I usually shut down by midnight for need of sleep. I love to dance, but it's definitely not my focus at the moment. Good to see some of the girls using their new moves, too...
And N finally got his AoA, right as he's bitching about not getting it a few months ago. We'd all just settled into an evening of hanging by the fire when he gets summoned to the Baron's presence. He comes back his lordship. We had a good laugh and called him Lord N all night. Nothing like good timing - Good Game, Baron!
Metrics, baby, it's all about the nums!
So I managed to get to the gym today, and jogged for 20 minutes, worked on my shoulders and legs. Good workout! I was getting a shower towel when the trainer dude at the desk asks if I want to measure my body fat. Sure, why the heck not, right? Last time we tried this, I was over 30% - not terrible, but not in my range of acceptable things in my universe. So he has me hold this little thingie and voila! Numbers pop up...
Good numbers, I might add! I've dropped about 4% body fat. BMI is still the same, but I think it's a crappy measure since I've clearly added lots of muscle. If my weight has gone up 6 pounds, yet my body fat has dropped, good news, eh? No wonder my FBI Academy shorts fit again! Woohoo! Go me! Happy dance in the shower!
So yeah, I'm buying one of those little Body fat monitor thingies. If anything gets me to the gym, it's seeing real numbers other than my scale. The scale gets frustrating when you're building muscle. I still have work to do, but that made me feel lovely!
Good numbers, I might add! I've dropped about 4% body fat. BMI is still the same, but I think it's a crappy measure since I've clearly added lots of muscle. If my weight has gone up 6 pounds, yet my body fat has dropped, good news, eh? No wonder my FBI Academy shorts fit again! Woohoo! Go me! Happy dance in the shower!
So yeah, I'm buying one of those little Body fat monitor thingies. If anything gets me to the gym, it's seeing real numbers other than my scale. The scale gets frustrating when you're building muscle. I still have work to do, but that made me feel lovely!
Friday, September 01, 2006
Only in SoCal
Only here can you have the Mexican quesedilla special in a French Bistro, and not have to worry about weird ingredients or your digestive system...
I didn't even flinch as I ordered. It was actually some of the best refried beans I've had in a while :-)
I didn't even flinch as I ordered. It was actually some of the best refried beans I've had in a while :-)
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