Halloween has been upgraded; Signs

I was never a huge fan of Halloween until my college years. Since then, every single Halloween party I've been to has been a pretty good time. There's also a vibrant, crazy energy flowing through the air. We went to a couple parties last night -- one composed of maybe thirty slightly buzzed normal people (for the most part) and a hookah pipe for Double Apple tobacco, and one that was packed and full of screaming, horny, drunken undergrads and Dutchies. They were right across the street from each other, so we wandered back and forth to both parties for a few hours. I was a Hawaiian or Polynesian girl (hula looking wrap-skirt thing w/ tassles, leis, billowy shirt, a rope belt, and a ton of jewelry) and Mike was either Indiana Jones or a cowboy we named Ray Bob (a cowboy hat) . Clearly mine took more work. We went w/ a cat (ears, tail, tights, bowtie) and a guido/Mafia guy (black suit, gelled and slicked back hair, sunglasses, and a gold chain). It was a pretty eventful night; the cops stopped by, I spoke to an American kid who spoke a little Chinese even though he was slurring his English, and hung out w/ friends and strangers until the wee hours. The most original costumes were probably 2 aliens made out of trash bags, shiny gift wrap, egg-shell shaped eyes made out of some kind of plastic, and other household materials.

They looked like the aliens from that goofy-ass movie, Signs. I've determined Mel Gibson went weird precisely at the moment he accepted the leading role in that movie. Lethal Weapons, fun and watchable. Braveheart, great. The Patriot, pretty much like Braveheart. Then of all things, Signs. What is he thinking? Or not thinking is more like it. This must be M. Night Shyalaman's thought process: Let's see how much stuff we can randomly throw together to make a story which stars Mel Gibson; ok, let's get some aliens who are afraid of water to come to their house for some odd reason, or even better, no reason; include something about the magic of a good swinging arm, Americans love baseball; maybe a dying wife for some more of that dark drama I like; ooh, I know, a priest whose lost his faith; um... a cute little girl; some cool crop circles; and... how do I top this off... I know, hunky brothers, yum! To which I my reply is: What? Why? How is this a good idea? What are the aliens doing there? What do they want? Why are they afraid of water? What the hell's going on? Who cares after the first fifteen minutes? Abominable.

Spider bite, shitty characters

Things car needs: A rim that isn't bent, a tail light that isn't broken, a muffler that hasn't fallen off, and speakers that don't crackle. I can't take care of anything until Thursday morning when I don't have class until 11:30.

I gave Mike a ride to work this morning b/c his car wouldn't start and, like idiots, we don't have jumper cables. Then I rushed off to my emergency doctor's appointment to get a bite on my calf looked at. It's swollen up my entire calf and ankle so that I have cankles. It's probably a spider bite and I got some steroids to help w/ the swelling. So, if I get into a homicidal rage, I can blame it on the 'roids. The doc and I got into a rousing political debate where he made some very good points about why Kerry's a slimeball that I hadn't thought of before. My defense was that Bush is a bigger slimeball, and also a nincompoop. Like most 40+ year old men, he told me I was cute. *Sigh,* so it goes.

After the appointment, I rushed off to class and am in it now. At least it's a decent class. Tonight, I have to write a brief. Then the next couple days will be catch-up time b/c this damn brief has taken away every last minute of spare time. The whole 2 minutes I had to begin with.

By the way, if you want to see an example of a horribly written, unabashedly unbelievable character, see The Terminal and laugh at Catherine Zeta-Jones for two hours. Why did she take such a ridiculous role? First, she does commercials for T-Mobile, then takes on a role for one of the worst characters I've ever seen. What is she thinking? After marrying Michael Douglas, her career is putrefying before her eyes. She may as well do infomercials like Cher and hope she bounces back later. The character was flighty, uber-emotional, and dates a married man for 7 years and continues to do so when a good guy practically falls into her lap. Other than that, it was a pretty good movie. Tom Hanks was a convincing Russian and some parts of the movie (e.g. "Goat!") were hilarious. Worth renting.

Affront to human dignity

I hung out with a new friend yesterday. We observed court proceedings for a couple hours as required for class. There were a couple orders of protection (restraining order), but they were mostly compliance hearings. The most interesting case was a probation violation. So, nothing too exciting, but it was interesting to see in practice some of the things I've learned. Also, I learned something about myself from a certain situation I had never considered before. The defendant with the probation violations was taken back into custody at the end of the hearing. The moment was pretty striking - a black man in his early 20's, a courtroom of mostly white people peering into his life, and being handcuffed just to walk out of the room. All for selling pot. Some twenty people judging me and being taken away in cuffs would've been exceedingly humiliating for me. For some, shaming is an effective enough process. I couldn't even look at the guy at that moment. I felt like I had no right to be there telling him he's a bad person. Guess I'm too much of a softy for criminal law. I mean, why should we lock someone up for an offense that isn't serious (e.g., violating probation for selling pot or driving on a suspended license) ? These actions don't necessarily mean the people have dangerous proclivities from which society needs to protect itself. I don't think someone's personal liberty should be taken away for minor breaches of the law. I know those aren't the rules and would be able to uphold the law for the harmony of society and the sake of preserving the only and possibly best system we have, but don't really agree with all of it. That's what a good juror says anyway.

We got coffee afterwards and the entire time, a guy in his 40's was staring at me. Why do I get ogling 40 year olds and leering garbage men? Maybe the hot young guys are more discreet and I don't notice. Yeah... that's it. Oh, well, I'm not fishing anyway.

I have a desk!

Mike bought me a desk! It's big, solid, classy, and has a hutch. I'm so happy. I'm a real student now. We left the old rickety desk at the old apartment, so I had to study by balancing a combination of laptop, papers, and books on my lap and the arm of the couch. It was pretty frustrating. But, now I have a desk! I came home after my notorious 12 hour Wednesdays and there it was, all put together and gleaming. It was very sweet : )

Hole-punching, Law-suits, Wackeroff

Having literally 400 different handouts and printouts for 5 different classes in various places (car, locker, bedroom, coffee table, etc.) wasn't working out. Why this organizational system didn't work, I don't know. So, I went on a scavenger hunt for all these sheets of paper, went to Wally-world and bought 3-ring binders, a 3-ring hole punch, tabs, and section dividers, then went home and hole punched for over an hour. Now, I'm finally organized and can go to a class with all the material in one place at one time.

So, I'm not allowed to work more than 20 hours a week on campus b/c the law school says so. Apparently, if I work more than 20 hrs a week my head will explode. Or the school would find out (which they would b/c I'm being paid from the school budget at both jobs so time sheets get turned into the same place) and maybe lose its accreditation. And I definitely don't want to be responsible for students not being able to sit for the bar. Imagine the law suits...

Work was weird today. All these people kept walking in. First, the cable guy wanted to use the phone. Then, a team of fire inspector-type people examined the electrical panel box thing, said they needed better access, then took a picture. Ironically, above the electrical box is a sign that says, "Equipment in this room is monitored by public safety at all times."

And speaking of signs, we have a Wackeroff in this building. It's stupid and immature and my name doesn't sound too much better, but when I walk by that door, I have to at least grin a little. Wackeroff... hehe.

For those of you who don't have a Strunk and White, check out
http://www.world-english.org/grammar.htm for a handy foray into grammar and the such.

Zombiesque & Chatty folk

A frustrating day has come... I have nothing to blog anymore. I'm like a zombie who needs to consume cases, statutes, and regulations to stay alive. And it's not like I love it. Some days I kind of like learning about the law and thinking like a lawyer, some days I barely tolerate it, and then there are the days when I want to heave all my casebooks, statutory supplements, and other legal material into a giant pyre, Fahrenheit 451 style, and warm my hands from its heat because it's getting that cold. It actually hailed yesterday. See, I'm just rambling. The more useful the material I'm learning, the less creative I am. School is sapping the life out of me, as it does every semester. At least this time my motivation lasted until the middle of the semester. *sigh*

The new job is going well. My boss is happy with the work I've been doing and it's pretty satisfying b/c I do it well. She's one of the most talkative people I've ever met, other than Mike. I think in the week I've been working there, I know more about my boss than I've known about anyone in that span of time. The second time I talked to her, she told me about her dog, her family, Thanksgiving w/ the family, her former and current home, her plants, her former and current car, her car accident, and about 14 other subjects. I like her though, she's friendly.

I miss all the time I used to be able to waste...

School: 15 hours

Study: 15 hours

Work: 20 hours

Doing nothing: Timeless

I actually missed the Apprentice b/c I've been so busy I forgot. Not to mention the lack of blogging lately. Blogging in class right now. Why am I being so productive all of a sudden?? Not fun. So, half of my classes are still interesting and keeping my attention, the other half, I haven't studied for in about a week b/c they're boring the bejesus out of me. I'm no longer ahead and have some catching up to do... Looking forward to an exciting weekend of reading a week's worth of material. I wish I had a photographic, or even mediocre, memory. A goldfish with a really good memory could remember more of this lecture than me.

All I want for Halloween...

is a short story section. This is way harder than I thought. If anyone has suggestions as how to create a section w/in a blog to go in the sidebar, please please clue me in.

I've been afraid of paranormal things since I was eight. Basically, I had a nightmare that some people tell me sounds a lot of like Rosemary's Baby, a movie I've never seen. It's really getting ridiculous. Instead of this stupid fear gradually going away, I'm more scared of weird things that glow in the dark and eerie shadows than when I was as a kid. This has got to stop >: ( One day soon I'm going to rent Rosemary's Baby. I'm also renting The Grudge when it comes out since it looks like it has everything I don't want to see in real life. The purpose of renting these movies is to allow me to face this irrational fear when I see how silly it is. But, they'll probably just scare the shit out me. After I saw Blair Witch Project and The Ring many sleepless nights ensued.

Very Good Friday

Wow, yesterday was a pretty great day. A little culture - Monkey King was awesome with its detailed costumes, vibrant colors, martial arts, and humor. A bit of political satisfaction - Kerry tore it up again at the second debate (in my opinion, anyway). And a healthy serving of movin' on up - Now, both of us have jobs and titles we want: I got the job as editor of a department on campus : D and Mike got the job as manager of Radio Shack (he's now the "Trump of the Shack") : ) . Ah, life is good.

Recommended Short Story of the Day:
"Petition" - John Barth
(A pair of conjoined twins hate each other, and one writes a petition to the King of Siam on his trip to America. Funny and incredibly sad.)

Queen of the Common Area

It seems like the neighbor has nothing better to do than complain about the foot traffic up and down the stairs. We're polite everytime she says something (once or twice a week) and make an effort to virtually tiptoe and she's still giving us dirty looks and bitching. So... we have to tiptoe, whisper, and rarely use the stairs so we don't incur her wrath? I don't think so. The situation is beginning to incur my wrath. The other neighbors have never complained, including the other downstairs neighbor. Does she have sonar hearing? She acts like she owns the damn hallways and stairs. I'm starting to feel like we're being harrassed. Should I bring this up to management in case our half-brained neighbor complains to them? Then mgmt will know we're going up and down the stairs like normal people and not hooligans, right?

What do you do about a neighbor who complains about noise that doesn't exist?
	Complain about her dog every time it barks.
	Tell mgmt you don't appreciate it.
	Stop being polite and tell her where she can shove it.
	Leave hundreds of egg cartons at her front door so she can soundproof her apartment.
	Sneak in and place a the head of a dead horse on her pillow.
	Stomp up and down the stairs repeatedly as an exercise routine so she knows what noise actually sounds like.
	Get a bigger dog to eat her little dog.
	Turn off her water heater every chance you get.
	Simply let it go.
	None of the above. Please reply through comment section if you have another solution.
Free polls from Pollhost.com

Oh my God, it's early... Why am I up if I don't have class until 11:30? Though my brain is fizzing like Pop Rocks at this hour, it's convinced 7:30 a.m. is the perfect time to wake up every friggin' day. Why, God, hath He cursed thy creation? Hehe...

It's boots weather.

It's too cold for sandals. I migrate toward sunny areas when walking. The heat's on at night. Someone referred to my light jacket as a winter coat. Yup, it's beginning to look a lot like Buffalo.

Monkey King, Mysterious Voter Reg. Errors

http://www.news.cornell.edu/Chronicle/04/9.23.04/Beijing_Opera.html

I can't wait until Friday. Mike and I are going to see Adventures of the Monkey King: A Beijing Opera. Like every other Chinese kid, I've seen several Monkey King TV shows and movies. What Odysseus is to Greek literature, what King Arthur is to English legend, what Wizard of Oz is to American tradition, The Monkey King is to Chinese folklore. The story originated in the 15th century, I think. It's about a monkey w/ special powers and his entourage, which includes a temperamental pig and a Buddhist monk w/ a magical staff. They're on some kind of spiritual journey and get into all sorts of trouble on the way. I know it sounds a little cheesy, but it's actually very cool. Don't let the animals scare you off... look at Animal Farm. I wish tomorrow was Friday. Wait, I wish that every Monday.

Recommended short story of the day:
"Bartleby" - Herman Melville

Of course, you can "prefer not to" - See pretty much any page of "Bartleby."

A very loud "thank you!" to those who've commented. I feel the love.

A friend of mine in Florida works for a voter registration place and mysteriously, hundreds of applications came back unable to be processed b/c of serious errors about a month before the election. Hmm... So, he spent Sunday (yesterday) going back to all these people they've registered to register them again. Oh, the corruption... it kills me.

Check out the photoshop contest about the notes Bush and Kerry were were taking during the debate. Funny stuff. http://forums.fark.com/cgi/fark/comments.pl?IDLink=1147806

Speaking it makes it so.

There are times when speaking something makes it so. Language wills the thing into existence. This is the simplicity of a complex and multiplicitous form of writing known (by those who dare) as performative fiction. Months after the class has ended, I feel like I honestly get it. Before, I understood the theory behind it and saw a glimmer of it, but now I see the beauty of it. Performative fiction is not always pretty - in fact, sometimes it's downright disturbing -however, it's really liberating to test the boundaries of language and stray from the formulaic. Random time travel? Sure. Transparencies w/ crayon etchings? Sounds good. Graphic rape and incest as a prevailing theme? If you're Cathy Acker. A language composed of unknown symbols? Great. Setting your manuscript on fire? Why not? Transcript taken on a bet to never speak? Good, good. Engaged, then married to someone who's dead? Interesting. Toilet paper? Lovin' it. If you decide to check out performative fiction, two things or a combination of the two will happen: 1) You will believe what you've read is child-like half-rants and/or smut that must be immediately burned to salvage innocent minds and the canon we know as literature; and/or 2) You will feel that language barriers are being cleaved through, leaving gaps, pauses, and brilliant notions to explore. I don't know why I never thought of this before, but the concept within perfomative fiction of a thing independently and immediately coming into existence when it is spoken has deeply religious undertones. Whoa.

Getting a laptop and a cell phone is also liberating. You may feel like you've sold out to the world of materialistic whoredom, but that doesn't last too long.

Recommended book of the day:
A Humament - Tom Philips

Trumpified & not impressed, Debate 1/3

Trump had some good advice at the lecture: Think big, stay focused, keep your momentum, be a little paranoid (or be aware of what's going on and don't trust people too much), and my personal favorite, "to be a winner, you have to think like a winner." Other tips included: get a pre-nup and get even. I appreciate the honesty, though those aren't my rules of success. I think Mike loved every minute of it, but other than the good advice and his very motivational and endearing answers to a 9 and 10 year old, "I can tell you're smart, so study hard and you will be successful" and "You don't want to be like me. You just want to be you," he was a bit of a chauvinist and it was clear as day that he's one of those people you can characterize as a shark. I couldn't go through life with such a ruthless demeanor. And of course, he was cocky as hell. The lecture was pretty much what I expected, other than him espousing his political views. Who cares about Trump's political views? Hearing him speak was worth the money I put into it, $10. Salman Rushdie is coming sometime early next year. Now, that's a lecture I'd pay a whole Andrew Jackson to see.

I'm working right now at a law school alumni reception. 8:15 on a Saturday morning is not my ideal time to work. All I have to do is make sure the AV equipment is hooked up right and stand by for technical difficulties. Yippie. There's a 4' x 5' portrait of Robert Graves, poet and author, on the wall to my left. It's very detailed and life-like and his face takes up the entire canvas. It's so well painted, it's freaking me out a little. He has these piercing green eyes w/ blue flecks, a mane of white hair, and a very stern expression w/ furrowed brow. The artist, who must be mentioned for his talent of capturing every last detail, John Ulbright painted this in 1966.

Oh my God, I need coffee.

As you undoubtedly know if you have even a modicum of political interest, the first of three presidential debates transpired last Thursday. This debate centered around Bush's strongest topic, Homeland Security and the war. And, like the Trump debate, I wasn't impressed. Kerry possessed a very presidential air, while Bush looked like a petulant child whose mom keeps explaining to him why he can't do something. It's not a major point, but when representing your country, demeanor says a lot to your own people and the international community. Kerry had specific points and plans, while Bush diverted the questions sometimes and remained vague by simply touting that he would "make the world a better place." Yes, that obstensibly is the goal. Sure, George, I'll give you a few minutes to look that word up. Now, can we please focus, like Kerry, on how you plan to do this? Do your administration's means justify the end? Who the hell can figure it out when you haven't explained the means either b/c you don't have one or it's too crooked to reveal?