Changes

I think I've changed my mind. I don't want to be a lawyer. I want to be a librarian. Maybe an archivist or something.

Isn't that perfect? I think I'm going to do it.

This Is What Law School Is Really About

So I came back from my first juvenile hall class today. It went okay, I think. Instead of 1 two hour class, we had 2 one hour classes (like all prison, you never know the rules until you arrive). My small groups are very different – the first was more quiet and less excited – maybe because they were the first group, but also maybe they were less friendly with each other in general. I got through my whole lesson – an ice-breaker, a discussion on their rights in juvenile hall (with a 2-page handout), and then a skit they're supposed to read out loud. The second group was so talkative & wouldn't let me finish the lesson with all their questions! It was pretty cute (also a little frustrating). It was also very sad – one of the boys in my second class has two daughters already – and talked about how kids sneak drugs into their cells from visitors (although maybe he was joking?). Another kid asked me if he runs away from his group home when he gets out, if the judge will let him leave this state and go to another. They had so many questions, they were so eager to get my opinion, and ask me questions and find out more about me! For many of them it was their first group contact (or perhaps first person contact?) all day.

There were so many questions I should have asked them and didn't! I should have asked more about their families (especially that one guy's children), about what they want to do when they leave. One of the kids said he couldn't read, but I also don't know if he was kidding – my second group liked to joke a lot. Also – our lesson was on rights, and if the staff violate their rights we tell the kids they should file a grievance. And all the boys said the same thing – filing grievances just gets them into more trouble with the staff. It's so frustrating? What should they do if the staff harrass them or don't let them make phone calls or whatever? I don't know. Talk to their lawyer? Some of the boys can't call their families b/c they can only use a collect phone and not every family can accept the calls. Also, some of the staff yell at them, curse at them – I saw one staff member bitch out this one girl for what seemed to be no reason at all, and made her cry. I don't know what advice to give – it's so frustrating. The program should give us better answers for the kids – the classes are a good excuse to be there, but it seems that the kids really just want answers. I guess I don't really know what they want or what they know after one class, though.

There was so much I should have said, though – I should have talked about how rights are important to have, but they also have to be enforced, and it sucks when that can't happen, and possible ways they can change that in a larger scale. (I don't know. Voting? Going to school? They hear this all the time, it has to be applicable to them personally...) I don't think I was very helpful, but I think that they liked me, and I have 6 more weeks with them.

Also, I had my first meeting today with a group of students who are organizing a project with San Quentin – a workshop series where the students do some workshops and inmates do others. That should get going in the next week. We're going to have an internal orientation about California prisons, and I might do a background about federal prisons, too. But that's still up in the air.

Mom's Birty day

Its my Mom's birthday today and I am back home. Everyone is in the living room and I am hiding out in the guest bedroom so I dont have to talk to my parents friends about my job and my lack of romantic interests.

I signed up for my second race today. 15k on November 30th. Yeah!

shitty week

I think I've finally come to the point in my life where I need to get out of school for a while. I've been coughing up my lungs for the past three days, lying on my ass, and watching tv. I'm behind in everything and just can't find the motivation to do anything. And the more I hold of on everything, the bigger the black cloud over my head gets. Sometimes I wish that I was stupid so that I'd have to have had to learn how to work, instead of just resting on my laurels and letting my natural smarts do everything at the last minute. I'm so bad at working with pressure, especially now that I'm working and going to school and trying to write two papers. I just don't know where to start. I'm numb but I'm scared, I'm busy but I'm lazy. I'm being pulled into two directions.

And So It Begins:

So here is the miserable truth that those of us who are given to depression are forced to face when David Foster Wallace commits suicide: It didn’t and doesn’t turn out well. There is no happy ending to the story of sorrow if you are born with a predilection for despair. The world is, after all, a coarse and brutal and cruel place. It’s only a matter of how long you can live with it.

Woody Allen

So I have been thinking a lot about how I am handling this situation. Thinking more in terms of observing and collecting information about myself than in terms of analyzing or explaining what I am doing. And I think I am starting to understand more of who I am as a result of this big move, big start. Or maybe what I already understood is starting to come together more.

I don't know if you'll like this explanation because it's all about stereotyping.

Often (usually?), the way that I view the people and the situations around me is in terms of generalizations. This person is that way, this situation has these factors, requires this response.

Inna is the extrovert flirt who can make anyone her friend. Rika is the introvert intellectual who will get five advanced degrees in biochem and poli sci. Evan is political. Maya is of the hippie/philosopher genre. Of course, these are all my best friends and I realize - intimately - how shallow and un-encompassing these definitions are. Nonetheless, they are the categories I have created and I reflexively revert to them, even with my closest circle of people. You can see how inadequate a system this is, but it's how I think and often informs how I relate to people, even as I'm aware of its insufficiencies.

I have never satisfactorily come to a definition for myself. I suppose I have often been "survivor," but over the past few years that definition has fallen by the wayside. I haven't survived anything in a long time. And finding a replacement term hasn't happened. I can be outgoing and vivacious, but I can equally be boring and awkward. I can be super intellectual, but other times I can be incredibly ignorant, even about things that I should know.

It is not that I think that I am more complicated than those around me - as I said, I know how simplistic my designations are for the people I love. It's rather that I don't really understand who I am, what core personality is the base upon which everything else grows. In some ways I'm living more as a reaction to what's going on around me (or who's around me), in other ways I am a big, sturdy, difficult wall of personality that butts its head against everything. And that sturdy wall seems mostly to consist of my inconsistencies.

And this is where a lot of my recent anxiety has stemmed from. I don't know what "type" I am, who I am, and so I don't know how I react to a new city, how to present myself to people. I am unconfident in my decisions (what to say in class, eg). And so I have been observing myself, noticing when I am awkward and when I am more suave.

After a month of this data-collecting, I think I am Woody Allen. No, really - neurotic to the core, completely awkward because I'm completely self-involved, and yet somehow able to charm a certain class of people.

I am not satisfied that this is the be-all end-all of who I am. Maybe it's a cop-out for letting myself be weird and not behave more socially-appropriately. I think maybe that's true, too. But also I think that there is the neurotic in me, that it does come closer to the confused and conflicting image I have and present.

legalize books

toothpastefordinner.com

SNL palin-hillary skit- WATCH

Just got off the phone with Flo

Been a tad MIA the last couple of weeks so I am not sure where to start. At some point I need to post my political rant blog entry.. but that can wait.

The last few weeks have been interesting in that I feel I have learned a lot of new things; I have learned things about myself, about my life, and about the people in my life.

I think I may have had a bit of an early 20's crisis where I wake up and go "Is this what I want to do with the rest of my life and am I happy right now". Obviously all this starts because of a guy.

Thats so incredibly sad that my soul searching and internal questioning starts because of a guy.

I find that I care way too much what people think. I've been slowly coming to that conclusion ( an obvious one - I know) but it just fucks me up all the time. I don't think that friends, babies, jobs, or anything like that can really make us happy. I know plenty of people with some really really cute babies and awesome husbands that are no where near happy. You can only be truly happy with others if you are happy with yourself. This is why I have come up with a list of things that I would like to accomplish and in no way should be about other people's approval/acceptance/things that would usually make me feel good because it caused an ego boost in some artificial way.
Here are some things I am thinking of:

-Learn how to drive a car
-Take a vacation alone
-Run a marathon (btw - I ran my first 10k 2 weeks ago!!!!)
-Find a cause that I believe in
-Volunteer
-Have sex all day (make an event out of it)
-Start art classes again

And more to come.

And a small little excerpt about the stupidity of last night. It is a very bad idea, after a 12 hour shift at work, to decide to go get drinks with an ex.

Short One

I went to Minneapolis over the weekend, and it rocked. Come visit there with me sometime, for reals.

Also, I'm reading (was reading, over the weekend, and will pick up to finish at the end of the semester) Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell. I got half-way through, and I'm enjoying it more than I thought.
Also working my way through Virgin Soil by Turgenev, which is not too bad, for a Russian novel. I'm half-way through and just got to the love scene, which is apparently the main plotline in the novel so yeah - it's pretty Russian so far. But I like it.
Also trying desperately to finish Another Roadside Attraction, which I don't think is ever going to happen at this point. I think Robbins is a little too dated for me.
Also thinking about starting Strange Case of Dr. Jekell and Mr. Hyde, b/c I have it and have never read it.

Okay, now for Civ Pro. We're learning about how to amend a complaint in federal court, under FRCP Rule 15. You guys are so jealous, I know.

Impressions

So, this is the end of my first week of classes, although it’s only Thursday night.

I love it. It’s hard – sometimes I’m not sure how I’ll be able to get everything done throughout the semester, especially after I start my extra currics (which we have to pick in the next week or two – I’m thinking the International Law Journal and the East Bay Community Outreach Program – doing benefits work like at UJC – or the Employment and Labor Law Journal and Clinic). It takes about two hours of homework for every one hour of class, which comes out to about 10/12 hours a day.
But I love it. I love the challenge, it’s exactly what suits me – a good combination of theoretical and practical. My classmates are intelligent and hardworking and I think it will keep me competitive – in a good way.

So far, though, still no buddies. There are a couple of people I’d like to talk with more, but I am awkward at starting conversations… I get nervous and don’t listen to what people say, and then I respond with something weird. But I think that will come with time, so I’m not so worried. Plus I have Sandi and Vlad (who is back in town – he was in Thailand when I got here), and they are more than a handful themselves.

My room has books, but no bookshelves!! Staples has failed me. I was supposed to have my books delivered a week ago, but the UPS person they have on duty is an idiot, and I’ve been in class or working during the day and haven’t had a chance to call…

Raskolnikov is coming today! I am leaving now to pick him up from the airport. I am super excited – also, this first month (it’s been 30 days) has made me more confident that we can make it through three years like this.

Berkeley is an incredible town. It's great having Akira, here, too - it's kept me from being super lonely and homesick, but I think even without her I would be happy here. Berkeley has made a great impression on me so far. Last night, we went to a slam that we awesome! And close to my house, so I think I will be a frequent visitor. I've decided to limit my 'fun' - no restaurants, no new books, no movies... but I think slam will have to be allowed.

Anticipating

I've had the most wondeful time in Alabama, full of relaxing and being cared for by my family. I have also been getting very nervous and stressed about moving out west. Especially about money, because I have debts to pay and so living this semester is going to be very tight.

But really, this summer has been incredible. I have loved having all this time to get closer with my family, and every day has been pretty awesome. Today, for example, my family and I went to a park and played croquet (which is actually way awesome, and I came in second place!), and then went for milkshakes and lemonade. At dinner, my cousins were inspired to recite poetry, and so we all went around the table reciting poems from memory and reading from books. Poetry is actually a big family tradition for us - my grandfather made a book of collections of poems that were frequently recited at family events. My grandfather always read Annabel Lee, and he and my mom would recite and act out Casey At the Bat. Kids were usually stuck with Robert Frost poems. I remember getting to read all of The Raven at dinner once, although my grandfather kept interrupting me to give me tips on how to read it.

And so now I am also inspired to share some of the anthologized recitations from dinner. Here's one I'm going to re-read often, in the coming months:

Homework! Oh, homework!
I hate you! You stink!
I wish I could wash you
away in the sink,
if only a bomb
would explode you to bits.
Homework! Oh, homework!
You're giving me fits.

I'd rather take baths
with a man-eating shark,
or wrestle a lion
alone in the dark,
eat spinach and liver,
pet ten porcupines,
than tackle the homework
my teacher assigns.

Homework! Oh, homework!
You're last on my list,
I simply can't see
why you even exist,
if you jsut disappeared
it would tickle me pink.
Homework! Oh, homework!
I hate you! You stink!
-Jack Prelutsky


This has long been a favorite of mine:

I saw a man pursuing the horizon;
Round and round they sped.
I was disturbed at this;
I accosted the man.
"It is futile," I said,
"You can never-"

"You lie," he cried,
And ran on.
-stephan crane

This one Anna liked a lot:

Do you carrot all for me?
My heart beets for you,
With your turnip nose
And your radish face,
You are a peach.
If we cantaloupe,
Lettuce marry;
Weed make a swell pear.

And this one I liked a lot (I want to get a collection of her poems):

I will be the gladdest thing
Under the sun!
I will touch a hundred flowers
and not pick one.

I will look at cliffs and clouds
with quiet eyes,
Watch the wind bow down the grass,
and the grass rise.

And when the lights begin to show
up from the town,
I will mark which must be mine,
and then start down!
-edna st. vincent millay

There were a lot more (I read from Dover Beach, which is one of my favorite poems at the moment), but this is enough, for now.

Will You Be My Neighbor?

So, Mister Rogers is being taken off of PBS for good. I always loved that show as a child, and have found Mister Rogers to be an inspiring figure as I've learned more about him. Here he is delivering a speech about the importance of PBS and shows like his teaching children the right kind of values. (from jezebel)

kjhdjk

I find that, like many people, I allow other people's emotions and actions towards me, cloud my own personal judgements and feelings. I have this tremendous desire to make everyone really really love me. I have this need for acceptance. I want people to think that I am the most beautiful, intelligent, and funny person they know. Is that bad? I don't think that this is necessarily the worst thing; everyone wants to be loved and accepted to some degree but I find that whenever I get the slightest negative vibe from someone, I freak out.

I think I am intuitive to a degree where I can tell if someone has changed their minds about me. I have always been able to sense when a boyfriend was no longer interested at the first sign of an apathetic shrug or indifferent kiss and it drives me absolutely nuts. Rejection and change are the things that shake me to my very core. Now, whenever I sense some kind of change, a change in reaction towards me or anything slight, it unerves me and I start preparing for some kind of impending rejection.

I am so anal retentive about everything. Or maybe I just need to get laid.

INTENSE PAIN

Being a woman SUCKS ASS...

I am dying. Yeast infections are the worst hell on the planet. Well, yeast infections aren't so bad but the CURE IS AWFUL... Oh my god, I am in such incredible pain...

AUGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!


Also, I am watching the episode of That 70's Show where Eric et al. get high to 'dispose of the evidence' and it's really funny... except that I'm in SUCH pain that I can't laugh because I'm crying so hard... Also, I'm drunk. Except that it's NOT dulling the pain!! And if I drink any more, I'll puke. And that will be worse.


... This is hell. Men suck. Life sucks.

Also, Berkeley is giving me almost a third of my tuition free - $26,480. Not bad.

AUGGHH!!! PAIN!!!!

From the wikipedia:
Side effects (for the women's formulas) may include temporary burning/irritation of the vaginal area, moderate drowsiness, and headache similar to a sinus headache. Personal Product's 1-Day brand literature also includes upper respiratory infection in its list of side effects. These side effects may be only temporary, and do not interefere with the patient's comfort enough to outweigh the end result.


... LIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This pain is the WORST!!!


I am such a punk. I cannot handle this shit.

Cheap Is the Way To Go

So, apparently women live longer than men and save less money. What this means?

Wendy was right all along. Start building up those 401(k)s and saving intelligently. That means:

Wendy - no cabs
Flo - no books and/or law school
Akira - start making money

Half Marathon

Ever since I started running on a regular basis last year, I have held the long-term goal of running a marathon in the back of my mind. I was taking the train back home with a friend of mine, a hard core athlete who has run a marathon in the past and is currently training for a triathlon (running, biking, and swimming), when we started discussing exactly what it takes to run 26.2 miles. That's when it hit me - If I don't do this now, when will I do it? I've decided that I want to start with a half marathon, which is approximately 13 miles. I am going to pre-train starting tomorrow and officially start training next Monday.

Here is my schedule !

10-Week Half Marathon Training Schedule

Week	Mon	Tue	Wed	Thu	Fri	Sat	Sun	Total
1	3	Rest	3	3	Rest	4	Rest	13
2	3	Rest	4	3	Rest	5	Rest	15
3	3	Rest	4	3	Rest	6	Rest	16
4	3	Rest	5	3	Rest	8	Rest	19
5	3	Rest	5	3	Rest	10	Rest	21
6	4	Rest	5	4	Rest	11	Rest	24
7	4	Rest	6	4	Rest	12	Rest	26
8	4	Rest	5	4	Rest	9	Rest	22
9	3	Rest	4	3	Rest	8	Rest	18
10	3	Rest	3	Walk 2	Rest	13.1	Rest	21.1

I am trying to figure out where my desire to do this comes from. It's not all about losing weight or even necessarily about getting super fit (although it is a part of it) but more about pushing myself physically and mentally. It's about my being able to control what my body can do and not letting my body control what I can do. It's knowing that if I can run 13 miles and maybe someday even 26.2, then I can truly achieve anything I put my mind to.

Wish me Luck!

And as a celebration of things to come, I have just ordered a massive black-bean burrito, side of guacamole, and a whole bunch of fat-not-free sour cream. I have heartily stuffed my face and as I lie on my bed, attempting to find a comfortable position so as to delay vomiting all over the room for as long as possible, I daydream about what it will be like to cross that finish-line.

Computer Genius Am I

I just troubleshooted a printer at work. I feel a little too good about myself. Like because I did this I no longer have to do work for the rest of the day.

Is that a problem?

Naa

Wall Street Philanthropy??

See - we're not all bad..

Is it fair to say that the hedge fund industry, as it basked in phenomenal riches the past few years, has become an active participant in philanthropy? There is no shortage of events for charity these days, and even the best-known hedge fund event--the annual Ira W. Sohn conference--benefits children's cancer research. The Financial Times offers a good story on how the industry has mobilized on behalf of Darfur recently. One event in Manhattan last month apparently raised $300,000, which was used to send food and medical supplies to the area.

Costa Rica

Here is my long over due Costa Rica post :

I went to Costa Rica a fews back. I went with B, a coworker, and No- we did not sleep together like everyone and their mother thought we were going to.
Honestly the idea did not really come up - is that strange? I think my subconscious knew that if I obsessed and fretted about all the possible romantic situations, I would not have been able to really enjoy my vacation so I put it out of my mind and just indulged in everything else.

We were only gone Friday to Wednesday but it felt like weeks longer. We would get up at 9 in the morning every day which made the days seem endless. Endless but not tiring. It was so nice to just get away from everything - to get away from work, and the city, and my friends ( no offense), and to turn off my brain and enjoy things using my senses as opposed to my head.

Our first day we took a 4 hour luxury car ride from the capital, San Jose, to a small town called Arenal. Arenal is centered around the most active volcano in Costa Rico (one of the most active volcanoes in the world). We had a hotel on the foot of the volcano with floor to ceiling windows that looked out at the flowing magma at night.
In the evening we decided to take a hike up the base of the volcano and as we crawled up the charred rocks it started to rain. Now rain in Costa Rica is unlike anything you've ever seen because it rains forever, sheets and sheets of water. I had told B that he was a pussy for putting on his poncho so he took it off before it started pouring and was a little disgruntled because we ended up having to walk miles in clothes that were absolutely soaked and soggy.

This was immediately followed by Hot Springs. It was dark by then so we sat in the pool- water heated upwards of 50-70 degrees depending on which one you sat in- drinking tropical drinks while the rain kept on a-falling. This was probably the first moment when I truly felt that "vacation" feeling. Like whoa- I am not Kansas anymore! I am not in NY-fucking - City anymore! Hip-hip hooray!!

Next day we took a 5 hour long horse back riding trip from Arenal to Monteverde. Now this was my first time on a horse so...The website had advertised that it was "ok" for beginners and that the experienced travel guides would be there to help. The experienced travel guides turned out to be 2 twelve year old boys who couldn't speak a word of English and "ok" turned out to be a ridiculously grueling uphill journey into the mountains of Costa Rica, trotting down narrow paths above miles and miles of cliffs and jagged rocks. Did I mention that it rained the whole time? Like hard rain? Like your poncho and water boots no longer really serve their original purpose of protecting you because I've been on this goddamn horse for 5 hours type of thing. Like my ass hurt for days afterwards. Did I mention that this was fucking awesome?!!

As a present to ourselves we then spent the evening smoking Cuban cigars, drinking wine, and bonding over the trials and tribulations of our past relationships :)

I really pressured B into coming zip lining. I thought it would be really cool. My impression of zip lining was Tree A about 100 meters away from Tree B, with a steel rode in middle that you swing back and forth from, like back in the days of summer camp. Apparently what ziplining really means is flying OVER the rain forest of Monteverde on 9 cable systems, the longest 770 meters long (2,525 feet), and 130 meters high (426 feet) with a total stretch of 1.9 miles of cables about 3,000 ft through primary forest.

"But Wendy", you may ask. "Aren't you deathly afraid of heights." To which I may reply, "You bet your fucking ass I am."
I only seemed to figure out this part as I got to the top of this huge suspension bridge and they told me "let go". So hyperventilation ensues... but I did it!! so that was fucking awesome. Oh. and It rained.

Last day ended up in a small surfer beach town of Jaco. We wanted a relaxing day so we took a long walk on the beach. We walked mainly in silence, which I enjoyed, because I realized I could actually walk in silence with this person and not feel the urge to constantly talk so as to fill up any potential awkward pauses. Looking back it was a very romantic walk with the waves crashing onto the beach and the huge rocks off of the coast... And the rain. Always the rain. But nice rain. Almost like a lets ravish each other on this beautiful beach kind of rain. Almost. But not quite.

Another attraction was going to a bar in Jaco that ended up being a prostitute hole where B attempted to find us some sweet unsuspecting Costa Rican hooker to have an orgy with. He used his amazing sales skills and his broken Spanish to get it down to $50. Nice job - right?


SO yeah- All in all a great trip. But that was 3 weeks ago and now I am stressed again and am in desperate need of another vacation. Any ideas??

Oh and I am at work right now. 7 pm on a Saturday night. Again.

Nearing the End

Only three days left until I return to New York... I am very glad that I am ending the trip early, although I am having a really fun time. But I miss New York, and you girls, and traveling constantly is quite wearying. I think I would be very upset if I knew I had another month of this ahead of me.

So much to update. By now, you've all heard about my cat. I am really sad, but mostly what I feel is anger and a weird sort of indifference. I suppose it's a defense mechanism kicking in - it hurts too much to think about her being dead, and so my mind doesn't really let me think about it at all. There is not much else to say about that. I am trying really hard to not get too angry, and recognize my own responsibility in who I decided to keep her with.

Today, as you'll note on facebook, we hit a deer while driving late at night down a highway. I was driving 85 mph (well within the flow of traffic, thank you) when I noticed a dead deer carcass in the road ahead of me. I tried to maneuver the car so that the wheel wouldn't hit the body - there was a truck in the lane next to me, so I couldn't move over. However, our wheel did hit the body, and spun the car out of control. We almost crashed into the truck next to us, but instead we drove off the road into the grassy median. I turned so quickly and was driving so fast that we spun 180 degrees and almost flew into the oncoming traffic on the other side of the median. Fortunately, we stayed on the grass, out of traffic, and didn't flip over. Miraculously, neither we nor the car were hurt. I was considerably freaked out, as you can imagine. I've never come to close to actually dying before, and this was really close. I think I am still a little in shock.

Also, much earlier in our trip, on our way into (Toronto) Canada, we got stopped by the border control and interrogated for an hour and a half because of a megaphone and a grappling hook. I will explain this later, when I am not so tired. I think the shock from the crash earlier is wearing off and now I just want to go to sleep.

Things I don't like

I hate when people make comments that they think are compliments but actually come out as an insult.

I was out at a bar on Friday with a couple friends and the conversation naturally turned to love, sex, etc and in the middle of my friend's drunken tirade on what he wants out of a woman he says something like "She has to be like Wendy - she's has to be able to read and be passionate - Now of course I would never sleep with you Wendy - (he winks)..we're just reading buddies". Awesome. Thanks. Was that necessary.

How bout you go fuck yourself. Now this is coming from a certain someone who I have turned down on more than one occasion and after our vacation to a certain Latin American country it became a very certain fact that we could never be anything but great friends.

Whats the point of inserting these tiny little tidbits into conversation - especially when its around a group of other people. Is that weird that it makes me feel rejected despite the fact that I have no desire to sleep with this person?

-As an FYI- I am at work. Again. Blasting music off of Pandora. Dire Straits kick ass.

I just got this text from my boss

Boss : O told me she likes your music --- (one of our CEO's was in the office)
Me : haha, really?
Boss : No. She said it sucked and that is why she left.

You learn something new everyday

Boss: What's this dash for in this letter you drafted.

Me: Well, without it, the previous sentence is actually a fragment.

Boss: This is wrong.

Me: Why?!!

Boss: Because no self-respecting lawyer uses dashes.

I think a part of my soul just died.

Upcoming: the Drama

Sooo.... R gave me a digital camera for my birthday.

Right?! Isn't that a ridiculous present to give your ex-girlfriend/lover? Well, not only did he give me the camera, but he came by to drop it off while P was over, and naked, in my bedroom. I managed to keep R out of the room, but it was painfully awkward and kind of sad. What does one do in that situation? I knew he was coming over, but I did not know he was going to deliver a camera!

Well, P started taking pictures right away, which was also slightly awkward but they were cute pictures and I'm in the throes of love so what the hell, right? Except he takes some... artistic shots. Of me naked. Which also - I'm not planning on letting R see the sim card, so should be no problem.

Except he does see the sim card, and the naked picture in particular. And is now furious at me. He was really rude at first, but now has settled for passive coldness. He's really hurt - he told me that seeing that picture was as if I had sent him a thank-you card smeared with shit. Ouch.

Now - I completely understand his perspective. I would be immovable hurt and pissed if the roles were reversed. However, the devil's advocate in me says that technically, I am his ex, and if he want to get his ex-gf extravagant gifts, he should be willing to deal with what she might do with them.

Mostly, though, I feel really bad about the situation. However - and this is mostly a separate issue - he went on to accuse me of being inconsiderate and cold to him in general over the past few weeks. To which my response is: duh. Even before P, I was trying to move away from him emotionally and, well, get over him. So on the one hand this accusation is true, on the other hand, it's not a bad thing and I'm not sorry for it.

But now I don't know how to address that without bringing up the picture thing, which obviously I only have a really shitty excuse for (um... sorry i'm such a bitch?). So I am confused, and worried that he will stay bitter at me forever. It's not that I'm worried about losing the friendship (I didn't really want one anyway), but I just really don't want to hurt him or have him upset.

Any advice or words of comfort? Please don't chastise me for the picture. There's enough of that as it is.

Now: the Roadtrip

Well. The roadtrip got off to a rocky start. Because of P, I didn't do anywhere near the packing I needed to - Monday notwithstanding - and so I caused a series of extra delays in our leaving. R and V came Wednesday for us to leave, found P and I not anywhere near ready to leave, and ended up taking over half of my stuff downstairs and to the post office. The next day they came, P still present, and took everything else. Then we left. That night I talked to R and asked him if things had been awkward - at this point, I hadn't told him anything about P - and he said no, it was fine, he was glad I moved on first, and P is a really nice guy.

First stop was Binghamton. We got in late, crashed at a friend of strangepear, and left early in the morning to see my brother. It was vaguely depressing, of course, as he is still under the delusion that he's really adopted from Cuba. But I had a nice long talk with his social worker, which was very helpful, I thought. We were supposed to high-tail it out of there, but we found the Walmart and spent two hours walking around, looking at shit. It was hard to get out of there.

Next stop: Boston. We got in late, I decided it was ridiculous for me to be away from P that long, and bought tickets for NY as soon as I thought I could get away.

Then: Maine. We stopped in Portland (where Longfellow grew up!) and Bar Harbor. Both were totally adorable towns. The word town was made for these places. Cute shops, friendly people, nice cafes, locally brewed decent but not great beer. Good stuff. Bar Harbor had a Whale Museum, which was all eco-friendly and awesome.

And then: Saint John, across the Canadian border. This was exactly a sea-town. Small, smelled like fish, lots of harbors and lobsters and red-faced, friendly, chatty people. There have been a lot of chatty people - hotel clerks and pizzeria owners and random strangers.

Then the car ferry across to Halifax, which is the biggest city around in Nova Scotia. It's not a very big city, though. We went to Halifax purely because V, and now R, are obsessed with this show called Trailer Park Boys which is filmed near Halifax. We took some pictures of the set and trespassed (fun!), but didn't see any of the actors. That fulfilled the purpose of our 15-hour side trip to Halifax, so... yeah. The best part so far has been the one night we've spent camping. At a place called Peggy's Cove - I sent you all postcards from there. I liked camping! It's been so long since I've gone, I've forgotten how much fun it can be in the right atmosphere. And this was definitely the right atmosphere. Peggy's Cove was an indescribably beautiful sight. I've been to Nova Scotia before, also for camping, and I have to say I've never in my life been so moved by natural beauty as in this province. The water is still and calm and reflective, and the fog is slow and thin and mood-setting, and the sun sets straight across from you for a long, long time.

There isn't much else to tell so far. We drove out of Halifax today and are now in Fredericton, which is the capital of New Brunswick. We have a 12 hour drive ahead tomorrow, but I'm wired and can't sleep, and so I'm updating this bloggy thing we have. My description of the roadtrip must seem very boring. But it's hard to describe everything right. So far the trip hasn't been cool cities and fun sites. It's been conversations in the car and music and staring out the window at scenery. You'll have to take my word that it's been fun and not boring at all.

The most exciting thing so far is that today we almost hit a deer! But avoided it last minute. I was terrified!

First: The Boy

So, you all now about P now, of course. Old friend of strangepear from college, grew out his hair and stole my heart at her Memorial Day/housewarming party. Currently the cause of much strife between me and R.

What else is there to say about him? We are madly in love, of course. We spent a good amount of time together the first week in June. Then, the Saturday I was supposed to have left for roadtrip (which was postponed because of car stuff) he and I went to a party at Akira and Wendy's house. I proceeded to get rip-roaring drunk and spill my guts about how much I love him. I don't remember much else from that night, other than kicking Euge out of the room to make out with P. Akira? Wendy? care to fill in any details?

Well, we ended up taking the subway home together, where I continued my rant about how much I love him. So pathetic. But then... the next morning he was all "did you mean what you said last night" whereupon I said "of course" and he replied "oh wow. I really love you, too."

":) !!! yay!!!" was pretty much all I could think for the next week. There still isn't much space in my head for other thoughts. We spent the next five days together, leaving each other's sight only to pee. There were times I would get annoyed, and then look at him, realize I was in love, and start smiling like an idiot. Totally pathetic, of course.

There is one delightful anecdote I would like to offer as the first romance this blog is witness to. Reader, beware: it is rather romantic.

The Monday before I left we stayed in all day, and it ended up being one of the best days I've ever had in my life. We slept in, and when we finally woke up, he put on music - Nat King Cole - and began to make breakfast - Russian crepes. I got up and alternated between packing and dancing and helping him cook. I made us cocktails, and we sat together naked in the living room, on a blanket I spread out on the floor, and fed each other crepes and drank each other's cocktails and enumerated all the things we were feeling about each other. By now Rubber Soul was playing and we had a long discussion about the Beatles.

After we finished eating, we got up and did work - he helped me pack up all my books. Every so often, we'd read each other a poem or an excerpt that we particularly liked. This was a painfully hot Monday, so we also took several cold showers together, to help cool off. This lasted all day, and then at the very end of the night, we took a bottle of champagne to the roof. We sat and drank and talked and watched the sunrise. He recited Russian love poems he had memorized while I lay against him. And all day, this whole time, he would stop every five minutes, and look me in the eyes, and tell me how much he loves me.

The moral of this story: Never be with a man who can't tell you all the ways in which you're wonderful for a full 24 hours. Especially if it's in the blistering heat while he's helping you pack for a trip he doesn't want you to take.

feminist kitty

http://www.feministe.us/blog/wp-content/uploads/2008/06/funny-pictures-crazy-recluse-cat.jpg

Attention Wendy

You better have a post up about Costa Rica soon or I'm going to start waking u up at 330 am instead of your usual 4am.

What's up in my life

It's too hot.
Flo's new tattoo is cool.
Free Museum festival today.
Ate too much sushi.
Not enough money.
Have to finish paper.
Aargggg cant' sleep
Doctor M's birthday on saturday.
Getting tickets for San Fran in exchange for soul.
Moving out.
Dentist is an asshole.
Work is bleeech.
That's it.

A new roommate but not a new home

So my brother or as he is hereby known -computergeek- has finally gotten tired of me sleeping on his couch and the bastard is kicking me out. Of course when the dishes start piling up, he'll come crawling back, but for now I need a new place to live.
This is not a new situation for me as I feel like I've been living out a bag for the last five years. My parents moved out my senior year of high school, during which Wendy and I lived alone in our barren apartment - the summer of that year stands out in my mind as one of the worst of my life. My parents had left quite abruptly to new jersey, and the apartment in which I had lived for the past 10 years was suddenly empty of all furniture. Any comfort that I had previously known in that home was suddenly gone and I was left with an odd sense of nostalgia for a place in which I still lived. To top it all off, that summer I had my heart broken for the first time and spent most of my time either crying or working at a horrible summer camp looking after spoiled 5 year olds.
After that I illegally squatted in an assistant living facility for a year, lived in a dorm for two years, and the last year lived out of Flo's place - for which I owe her my right kidney. All in all I have a pretty hazy definition of home, I don't really feel truly comfortable in any one place and I almost always have everything that I need to survive in my bag. On the one hand I'm low maintenance and will never understand the point of interior design. (that's a good thing) On the other hand, I never really feel like I belong in any place or to any place and instead am forced to wander between apartments in which I never fully feel welcome. Also, although I've been a nomad for so long, surprisingly I still feel claustrophobic, probably because I constantly have to be on my best behavior as any indiscretion may cost me a home.
I think that one of the reasons I want to go out of state for my doctorate is to create a place of my own, even if it's a tiny tiny room, I want to have the privilege of closing a door on the rest of the world.

But for now, I think I may have scored myself a place for the next few months. My parents have a 2-bedroom basement apartment in their house that's pretty big. A friend of mine, whom I've known for most of my life just moved in last week. I spoke to him yesterday and he agreed to let me have the smaller room for 200 a month. He's very chill and I don't think that we'll have a problem rooming together, but of course we'll see.

Conversation with neighboring lady at work

Her: By the way, I hope that you don't mind that I don't chat with you during the day. It's not that I don't like you.
Me: Um, ok
Her: It's just that you are new here
Me: Um, ok
Her: And well I happen to know that your boss doesn't like it when his assistant talks to people or makes friends around the office.
Me: Oh

What have I done to myself.

this blows

Why do I come in to work every morning at 930, forcing myself to wake up and rob myself of any last remnants of sleep - when my boss consistently comes in after 11. Wtf?

Gay Marriage Rights and why Flo is one lucky bitch to be moving to Berkeley

Sexual orientation is now a "suspect classification" under the the California equal protection clause as decided by the In Re Marriage Cases providing marriage rights to all people -heterosexual or homosexual. Which means that it will be subject to the highest level of scrutiny - strict scrutiny!!!! At a time when the Supreme Court only recognizes race, religion, and national origin as suspect classifications - this is a huge deal. It may still take a while to even consider sex orientation as a suspect classification under federal law because of the strict characteristics of such a classification. Suspect groups must have "immutable" characteristics, share a history of discrimination, and be a politically impotent and insular minority. These requirements are so strident that not even "sex" has been placed alongside race, religion, and national origin -instead it is left to wander alone in the purgatory that is "intermediate scrutiny", not really strict scrutiny and not really rational basis.
Oh well - this is still a huge step for gay rights and a fantastic new application of equal protection rights. Flo, I know that moving is sad, but at least you can have the satisfaction of knowing that your new state is number 1 on human rights - unlike any satisfaction you would have gotten if you had gone to Texas instead!

Updates

Gemma - Roman's annoying, creepy, bitchy roommate - tried to yell at me for using the bathroom. I am tired of letting her yell at me without yelling back, so I ignored her and walked into Roman's room. As I did so, she shouted "Fuck you!" at me. Then, they sent Roman an email - while we were both in his room - telling him to not let me come back here until he moves out. They tell him this every once in a while, and he always says no and everything is fine until they yell at me again.

But this time: this time I am angry. The woman curses at me, yells "fuck you" at me... I wanted nothing more than to open the door and slap the shit out of her. But Roman just shrugs his shoulders and says he's sorry. I don't want him to be sorry. If he doesn't want to yell at them, I want to be able to yell at them, to defend myself. Ugh.


On a much, much happier note: my Uncle Mike is officially giving me $5400, which will be money for the roadtrip and to pay for my new car (!). The condition is that in the fall, I start taking over my mother's monthly $150 payments. I think this is more than reasonable, and actually incredibly nice of him. Then, this morning, he also told me that he and my Aunt Peg are going to buy a new laptop for me.

No one has ever gotten me a present like that, one that I need for the next stage of my life, one that I could afford on my own, but that will save me a buttload of money and will be much higher quality coming from them. I was so touched... I've been weepy all day because of it. Of course, I am leaving my home city for at least three years in less than three weeks, and so I've been rather emotional in general lately. But yeah - family is kind of awesome, sometimes.

Paradise

So, to fulfill the purpose of this blog, I will now fill you in on my trip to Grenada that I haven't had time to tell you about.

Grenada was wonderful. It was utterly the perfect vacation. We stayed with Sydney, and his dorm was quite literally on the beach - you'd walk out the door onto sand. The water was warm, and clear - you could see your feet underneath you as you walked.

Our first day, we went to a waterfall. We took the local buses - which are minivans that travel everywhere in the city, and squeeze people in on top of one another - to the mountain that held the waterfall. We got out, and the bus driver told us to walk 20 minutes up. That translated into 45 minutes of steep uphill walking, alongside the most vibrantly colored vistas I'd ever seen. We asked a couple locals how much further to the waterfall, and the answer was always the same: 20 minutes. 20 minutes. 20 minutes. At one point we asked a man leading a goat down the hill, carrying a machete in his other hand. I've never seen a machete in real life before. Pretty cool.

Eventually we made it to the waterfall, which looked disappointingly small. But we started swimming in it, and quickly realized that it was, in fact, totally awesome! The water was cold, but deep. There was a cliff overlooking the water - about 10 feet high. This doesn't sound very tall, but at the top of it I freaked out. I sat for about 15 minutes before I worked up the courage to jump. A good lesson: things never seem so tall until you're the one at the top.

The second day we sat on the beach all. day. I played with a little girl who was very bossy! When I wanted to go swimming with Sydney and Roman, she yelled at me and told me to come back to the sand and play with her. Adorable. That evening Shakera arrived, and Roman and I got to witness the sweetest reunion. Sydney played down his anxiousness to see Shakera, but they had been apart 10 weeks and when she walked through the gates, they ran into each others arms and hugged and kissed for 5 minutes. It was completely adorable.

The third day, we went snorkeling! I've never done that before, but I took to it pretty well. That is - I became proficient quickly. I absolutely loved doing it. I have never seen anything like underwater life, but the colors and activity were mindblowing. Roman and I swam along, held hands, and pointed out the prettiest sites to each other. Very, very romantic.

This entire time, in the evening we would sneak into hotels on the beach, drink at the bars, eat at the restaurants. After snorkeling, we went to one in particular that had a jacuzzi, and we ordered cocktails and sipped them while we soaked. I felt very sophisticated. I had, for the first time, a sex on the beach, which is vodka, peach schnapps, grapefruit and orange juice. It is also delicious.

It was so sad when we left! This was possibly the most restful, calming, exciting, perfect vacation I've ever been on. I highly recommend Grenada for all your future travel destinations.

What Women Want

This makes me incredibly happy and proud.

After the Rwandan genocide, 60% of the population left over is female. These women are now taking over economically, starting small businesses and making use of the microlending options open to them. "Women are running coffee plantations and graining mills, and often, they're outearning their male counterparts."
... But women aren't just thriving as money managers in Rwanda; women hold 48% of seats in the Rwandan parliament, which, according to the WaPo, is the highest percentage in the world. And it's not like Rwanda is an anomaly. The World Bank says that "in India's great economic transformation of the past 15 years, states that have the highest percentage of women in the labor force have grown the fastest as well as had the largest reductions in poverty."

And not for the reasons you'd think. Not because women are more maternal, more family-oriented. But rather, as one entrepreneur explains: "They say that women care more about the family, but I do not know if that is true...I think it has more to do with the self-control woman show in hard times. We know how to survive when men despair."

The very misogyny that keeps women in the background gives them the ability to succeed where men fail. That is encouraging, indeed.

Getting an F in history

What does it say about me that I consistently confuse Gordon Liddy with Scooter Libby?

Stress and Sodomy

The next few weeks are going to be incredibly busy and stressful. I have to have 50 pages of my independent study finished by the 14Th, keep up with the work for my women's studies class - papers and all, work three days a week, study for the stupid LSAT even though I'm not going to law school, and in the midst of it all somehow find time to sleep. However, in spite of everything, I'm also really excited about the upcoming weeks. My awesome professor is giving me an amazing opportunity and letting me present a guest lecture in his Women and Politics class this tuesday. They're starting a section on the law and I'll be discussing the two sodomy/privacy rights cases: Bowers v. Hardwick and Lawrence v. Texas. I had a meeting with my prof today and he was completely nonchalant as to how I'm to handle the entire thing. He is basically giving me the keys to the car so to speak and telling me to ride with the wind - OK I can't drive so that metaphor didn't really work out, but you get my drift. Other than gearing my discussion towards the privacy and legal issues within gay marriage (the next topic) I have full reign. As I was sitting in his office today, I almost wanted him to give me some stringent guidelines - at least that way I would have an outline to follow. I know that I'm just nervous and that letting me prepare a lecture in my own style is great practice for the future, but I still fully expect to stutter through the whole thing, confuse Justice Scalia with Ginsberg, and then throw up on the floor. Ah well, how hard can talking about anal sex with horny college students be really. Yeah, it's going to be REALLY fun summarizing the facts of these two case.

Bored

I am unnaturally excited at having successfully changed the toner on my work printer. It's an illness that can only be cured with a coffee break.

Why I love academia

While discussing Michel Foucault's "The History of Sexuality" and the idea that incitement to discourse proliferated different sexualities within zones of tolerance, my Prof commented on how the loss of sexual vocabulary did not stunt discourse within the Catholic pastoral. Complicated, huh. Well then he comes out with this gem - an example of discourse in the Catholic confessional:

"He put his hoohoo in my down there, but I had female troubles and he thought that it was gross, so he put his peepee in my where the sun don't shine."

Bi-Coastal Curious and words I don't get

**edited with transitions, happy now Flo. fucking grammar nazi.

I spent four hours in the car this weekend staring out the window and attempting to sort out all of the crap in my mind. Not much progress with the important stuff but one thing that came up after so much immobile staring was the concept of borders. Bi-coastal curious is definitely appropriate as the title of this blog or at least this post because as Google tells me it is the concept of land borders as unnatural. This post is not going to be a pros and cons list of capitalist society and how the destruction of private property will cure all ills (although this topic is particularly relevant to current cases of Aboriginal property in Canada, since they have different definitions of property than does the Canadian government) but instead I will try to explain why there are certain words that I might intellectually comprehend but will never truly understand.

Border is one such word or rather the concept of borders. I very well understand that practically the entire world is divided up and prettily color coordinated on my atlas, and that this is intrinsically linked with the world economy, war, and nation building. However, looking at a rock in the middle of the forest, my mind cant seem to understand what this means. This rock will last beyond the existence of this border and even this country - this rock does not and cannot belong to anyone. If I took it and placed it across its border will anything change? Of course not, because the property owner does not own the rock, but rather the idea of the rock or the manipulation of the rock into a consumable resource. Other than that, it stands on its own.

Whenever I think of the idea of borders, I am always reminded of my first failed attempts to understand Rousseau's Social Contract, and what I initially thought were crazy ideas about humanity, nature, and property. Rousseau wrote that there was a divide between society and true human nature. That man/woman was a "noble savage" (originally not Rousseau's concept) in the wild and that society extricated her from that natural and rightful place. I think that I initially reacted negatively because it seemed like Rousseau was arguing for a mass exodus back to the forests and a renunciation of all technology - a Luddite concept if I ever saw one. However, when I read his ideas on property I understood that he was defining characteristics for two very different societies rather than extolling ones virtues over another and expecting people to start packing their bags for the nearest frontier. Private property was the essence of political society and thus a necessary evil, which did not necessarily fit in on the map of his concepts of Man and Nature. I think that I am now a little closer to understanding what Rousseau was talking about and why borders are so hard for me to comprehend. Rousseau saw borders as a necessity for a political society but he understood that as a concept they were intangible - an idea rather than a physical reality. When I am pondering the nature of borders I tend to be outside, much closer to Rousseau's ideal natural society rather than our current political one. In this frame of mind, borders seem inconsequential and very very far away. Oh well, at least I understand the Social Contract now.

On yet another note, it also seems that the creation of geographic borders can be likened to America's habit of placing things into definitional categories and basically essentializing them. The creation of a norm creates a basis on which people within society can function. Things that fall outside of the norm are usually marginalized and expunged from the mainstream. While this is in no way a complete analysis of my problems with understanding "border making" I do see it largely as an externalization of America's obsession with categorizing things into good/bad, mine/yours, war/peace etc.

Following from my misapprehension of the word "border", I also have a shaky understanding of the word "patriotism", which is so dependent on borders. People who have attempted to explain patriotism to me usually use phrases such as "pride in ones culture/country/traditions/pick your poison." However, patriotism doesn't really work without the dichotomies "us/them" or "here/there." If there were no other culture/country/tradition, it would be pointless to be patriotic. Patriotism seems to be a transmogrified form of the word border - a change from practical to emotional.

That's it for now, but don't even get me started on financial terms. No matter how many times Wendy explains it to me, buying and selling debt just makes no sense.

Hard-shelled Sea Creature

I can’t believe we’re blogging, girls – oh, how we’ve moved up in the world. I’m glad we’ve decided to do this. I imagine law school will have me drowning in legalese and memorization, and this will be a great way to keep a grip on the external world. If only by thinking of things to write about. I recommend that over the summer we read epistolary (GRE word) novels. Daddy-Long-Legs, Ella Minnow Pea… I know there are other more famous ones but these are the ones coming to my mind. Anyway, that way we can see what it was like when people communicated over distance only via the written word.

I have one month left in New York, and I spent 13 hours cleaning and packing yesterday. (Half of that was helping Sharon move, but is still thematic.) Right now it’s raining, and last night I watched a depressing French film. Never let it be said I let these occasions happen without style.

I cannot believe how much crap I’ve accumulated. Well, I can believe it. I’ve always felt like one of those hard-shelled sea creatures that carries their home on their back. My crap was my home, but now I am eliminating as much as possible and heading out west. Also I am leaving you. But let’s not think about that part, and instead focus on the crap.

So far, I’ve gotten rid of 10 pounds of clothes, 6 pairs of shoes, and one recycling bag full of paper. I haven’t even started on my books or tchotchkes or old schoolwork. I find myself facing questions of what is worth saving, kind of like Sophie’s Choice. Except it’s Berkeley and boxes of paper instead of the Holocaust and my child. Should I keep the old iMac from college? I keep on thinking I’ll recover some lost files, but that bitch is 10 pounds, at least. And can one of you tell me why I find it necessary to save every assignment I’ve ever had? Surely 10 years from now I won’t care about the grade I got on an Italian 201 quiz.

I am leaving June 7. This coming weekend is my last free weekend in New York. I’ve been pondering this fact all week, and: fuck. FUCK! I am on the verge of flipping out and will likely remain so until I’ve been in Berkeley for a year. However, I am so aware of how close I am to flipping out that actually flipping out will seem hopelessly meta. Also, every time I feel like crying I realize that I have no one to blame but myself. Surprisingly, that works quite well at keeping the tears at bay.

Newly-minted NRA member?

In response to Wendy's post on working on a Saturday I've decided to regale you all with the story of my own lovely weekend... not because I want to rub it in your face but because I want to shower you with a little sunshine and goodness :)


This weekend my parents and I went to visit friends of ours who have a house 2.5 hours north of New York City smack dab in the middle of nowhere. They have a son about my age who I've known for most of my life, so I decided to go - instead of staying at home and watching youtube videos. Anyway we arrived at their place at around noon and it was a beautiful day so my friend decided to show me around the huge property on which their house is built. We first walked down to this little creek that runs along the entire perimeter of the land and sat down on some rocks. Sitting there by the little creek with nothing but trees and birds and my bare feet skimming along the water - I realized that summer had officially begun. On the one hand this sorta sucks since I now have even less time to finish my thesis paper, but its also nice since summer in NY means plenty of camping, hiking, and kayaking.

Anyway my friend and I spent the entire day biking and hiking around the woods and saw all sorts of lovely things that sound cheesy when written down - the trickling of the hidden waterfall lying behind a copse of trees, the frolicking of deer, rabbits, groundhogs, and raccoons. At one point my friend took me to this beautiful lake and showed me how to fish. Surprisingly it wasn't boring at all, although I kept expecting the boxcar children to show up or maybe even Lassie. Since I didn't catch anything I don't think that I was much good though something tells me that thats not the point. The entire time I kept asking my friend "what he gets from fishing", I guess I wanted to hear an answer soliloquizing on the merits of solitude and the beauty of nature but he said something along the lines of "It's exciting when you catch something." Sigh

At one point we were walking along an edge of property that bordered along theirs and he pointed out a teeny tiny house whose owners hadn't been home for a while. This time however, the door of the house as far as we could see was open. At this point all of the fresh air had damaged my brain and I suggested that we go explore this house only slightly bigger than a garden shed. When we reached the door and peeked in we realized almost at once that the house must have been deserted for a long time. The entire thing had only two small rooms, a bedroom and a kitchen with a door separating the two. There was a musty smell characteristic of a thrift store or an indoor garage sale. There were shabby dolls lying on the old wooden bunk beds and a decade old box of Scrabble that we had to look at up close to recognize. Interestingly, the one thing that didn't look ancient was a picture posted on the refrigerator that was obviously drawn by a small child. It was a picture drawn for Mother's Day and had all of the requisite smiling stick figures and red balloons. The picture was dated 1992, yet it had not even started to yellow and the colors were crystal clear. All in all it was an interesting little anachronism which made the house that much more spooky. We found two swiss army knives, a box of UNO cards, and some jacks - and since no one else was gonna miss them decided to take them with us. :)

So that was my weekend, however before I finish, I want to explain the title of this post. I leave it for last because I am ashamed and my liberal guilt is acting up. A weekend of hiking, biking, fishing, and trespassing is not complete without....shooting. That's right, my friend has a nice little collection of rifles, pistols, and air guns that he loves to play with and I spent a few hours shooting at targets in the backyard. By targets I mean cans and bottles - I draw the line at hunting for sport. I wonder if this means that my membership within the Democratic Party will be revoked and I'll have Dick Cheney knocking at my door asking for hunting advice? Hmm, well I'll deal with that when the time comes.

Guess where I am??

It's 3:30 pm - do you know where your children are? You may not know where your good-for-nothing lazy ass kids are, but Wendy is at work.
On a Saturday. Again.

So I am working again and the day is really really quiet. Trading is closed on the weekend so all I do is deal with retarded clients who are pissed off about this, that, and the fact that they haven't made 6 million % on their initial investment yet. I am working with two other guys and I hope they don't notice that I haven't done anything for the last twenty minutes. I keep throwing furtive glances making sure they don't notice I am slacking. I look really busy now though, since I am rapidly typing into my keyboard. I should jump up, throw my hands in the air and bitch about the USD reaching all time highs - then no one will know I am really blogging, watching youtube, and reading people.com.

For now, we're all still in the same damn city- but I feel like I never see anyone. I suppose it won't be much different when our lawyer-to-be hauls her cute little tush across the country.

ugh- 4 more hours and 2 minutes. Phone is ringing again. Yes we guarantee 100% returns. Of course. Bear Sterns? Never heard of them.

Our Very First Post

If it wasn't clear, this is our very first entry, but more importantly it's the first attempt at three women keeping in touch across an entire continent. Although we are still all together in NY, in only a few months we will be spread out across a distance of almost 3000 miles. Instead of attempting a guess at how the next year will play out, I'd much rather focus on visits to the west coast, lovely tans, and those hemp bracelets that they most definitely sell in Berkeley. But I know that if this blog is going to work, we're going to have to stick with reality and not pretend that its going to be all vacations and road trips. It's pretty difficult to imagine that for the first time in 7 or 8 years we will not be close by - which is why the crucial necessity of writing and calling (dare we even imagine the phone bills) has not really sunk in yet. We all have such radically different lives - and finding time to write about your day when dealing with crashes in the market, 1st years of law school and finishing thesis papers on ....what the hell am I writing it on again?...is not going to be easy..However, one thing keeps me optimistic - remembering our outstanding capacity for procrastination, well except for Wendy :) the market sleeps for no man.. or woman! Even if its only a quick breakdown they'll be enough. Of course I won't say no to passionate political rants but that's just me. Anyway this entry is a welcome sign to both of you to start posting about your lives, loves, and bitchy bosses. So have at it.