Confession

In a little over a year, I will be taking [insert state here] bar exam. Which, is really just going to be... so awful. Like there is literally nothing pleasant about this time next year, and roughly the two months preceding it.

Which means that in a little more than a little over a year, I will, in theory anyway, have a real live legal job lined up, and will become a practicing attorney.

I find this fact pants-crappingly terrifying.

This is my confession. Incidentally, I just got off of Skype with an old high school friend of mine who is now in Mississippi of all places, and a large chunk of our conversation was a kind of collective disbelief that we are, in fact, adults. There are legitimate kids now, younger than us, and we are not them. We are old and, in my case, in a year will be fully independent, theoretically competent adults. Or at least we will expected to be. This is expected of me, who has only ever known childhood, adolescence, and youth.

I don't think I am dumb, and I know that I can probably handle it. It's more of a shock that it is actually happening. Growing up, that thing we call "adulthood" seemed so far off into the future, this kind of shadow thing that, even though you heard about it, and knew that conceptually, in the abstract, one day you would reach it, you never *actually* thought it was going to happen to you.

And then it does. Even in my "young adult" days, which was college until about now, I could put on the aires of responsibility, and had more freedom, but in the end, I could always play the "student" card. I was (and am, for a few more months, anyway) relatively insulated. You don't think about the time passing, at least I don't. And it passes quickly. And it happens so fast, it creeps up on you, you don't see it coming, so when it finally does happen, you wonder if you are really ready for it. You want "another five minutes" to get ready. But it has already happened, and the question is whether you can handle it.

Adults always seemed so... old, and together, and I always thought by the time I was an adult, I would have it all together, that the pieces would all be in place, and that I would know what to do. My parents, and any adults I knew, always seemed like that to me when I was a kid. And now I am starting to realize they were probably winging it as much as I am. And as anyone does. That realization, I think, is the real source of fear or dread or whatever. The knowledge that at some level, we are all throwing shit against the wall to see what sticks. But we are still to make something of that shit-flinging, and "not fuck up."

In the end, most people figure it out. I will too, I am sure. It's just so... sudden. To quote The Grateful Dead (or Jimmy Buffett, depending on what recording you are listening to), "woh oh/what I want to know/where does the time go?"

Life

Me

And because I referenced it in the blog, and it is relevant, and I like the song:

Uncle John's Band by The Grateful Dead. Alpine Valley Concert 1989

Good Boy

Got a bit of bad news today. My parents' dog --and my adopted dog when I am home visiting my parents-- is apparently really sick, and not in the getting-better kind of way. Apparently he'd been acting sick for about a week, and he'd stop eating and drinking, and that, coupled with the nature of whatever it is he has, means my parents are going to have to put him to sleep tomorrow :(. Even though he wasn't the dog I "grew up with," since my parents only got him a few years ago, while I was in college, I did a lot to take care of him when I was home, and he was a pretty righteous dog. Only dog I ever knew that actually chased his tail, and then would catch it.

It sucks to lose a pet, and I am sorry that I can't be there to say good-bye, as it were. I am glad that I was able to hang out and play with him when I was home in March. And that the boyfriend got to meet him. Anyway, there is not much to say about this. The fam only had him for a few years, but what years they were.

Peace out, Coco. You will be missed.

Coco, aka Kokomo. Aged 10 years

Sorry for the downer posts the last couple days. Will try to come up with something more cheery for the next installment.

Epiphany

Last night, instead of going to sleep at a reasonable time, I read my high school's alumni magazine. One thing you need to understand: I did not go to your typical American high school. I went to a small, private, all-girls school. The hijinks that went on there could fill a damn book (and I was hardly even in on a majority of what went down on any given day). It was an experience. And I wouldn't have traded any of it for anything. After a rough first year, it turned out to have been the best time of my life. Yes, including when I consider college.

Anyway, I have a certain fondness for those 4 years. A lot has changed at the school since I graduated 6 years ago (damn, already? I am getting old. Old , I tell you), and not all of it for the better, or so I hear. But those four years -- with a unique cast of characters -- will always hold a special place in my memory. I cannot help but laugh when I think about the past.

So, if you couldn't tell from the above, I have a certain nostalgia for the place and the time I was there. Reading the alumni magazine always kind of gets me -- a little pang or twinge of sadness, because obviously the past can never be re-had or recreated.

But last night, I realized it was something else that made me a little sad. To be blunt, I like the person I was a hell of a lot more than I like the current version of my self. Or to put it another way, I would be embarrassed to have people who knew me in high school, see me now. A few select individuals in particular.

For one, I have gained weight. More than I would have liked. College and law school have pretty much seen to that. Whenever I get busy and stressed, have a lot to do, my own physical and mental health are the first to be sacrificed. I literally haven't seen the inside of a gym in two years. I didn't do much gym-ing in high school, but I did play soccer, and generally stayed fairly active. So there's that. I don't look as good as I did then. I look older, and not in a good way. But I guess this is a common gripe for people, particularly around reunion times.

On a deeper level, I don't think I am as likable as a person. I am way more aggressive and frankly bitchy than I was in high school. I definitely had my moments of bitchiness in high school, but I wasn't as prone to rants and aggressive, bombastic statements and behavior as I am now. Plus, I think I am just in general more grouchy. I don't know if I can consider myself "nice." I was "nice" in high school. I don't know exactly why this change happened -- it happened midway through college. But, I realized last night that I would be embarrassed for the people who knew me then, to know the "now" me. I wish I could be more like 17 or 18-year-old Kristin.

I don't know whether to accept this new me or try to revert back to what I was like in high school. I don't know if I really could. But I do know that I have lost something in the 6 years since I graduated. I am back in California now; I could reach out to people to hang out, but honestly, I am a bit afraid to. I would rather them remember me as I was, than see me as I am now. Reading the alumni magazine just kind of reminded me of everything I have lost, on a lot of levels.

So after my epiphany last night, I have decided to try to be a kinder, chill-er me, like I was then. But honestly I don't know if it is possible for me to go back that way. And it depresses the hell out of me.

Here's a Youtube clip for a Bruce Springsteen song, Glory Days. It seems kind of appropriate here:

So that's about it. Sorry for the downer of a post.

Razzle Dazzle 'Em

I have new respect for people who work full time jobs, and still are the primary caretaker of the home front. Particularly singles. I usually get done with work around 5:30 or 6:00pm, and proceed to get dinner. Which means I am usually home between 7:30-8:00pm. And yet I still often have things to do, like laundry, or dry cleaning, or apartment hunting, or OCI info gathering, or going to the store. Yes, there are the weekends, but I find those get real busy, real fast. Like today, I finally picked up some repairs I had left at the cleaners... almost two weeks after it was ready. Just because I have gotten busy. So I respect that people do this every day, squeezing in the mundane of life in the after-work hours. But, I still like this better than school and homework. As much as I have errands and things to run after work, in the end, I am still free to do whatever, to get those things done as needed, on my schedule, and just have my "me" personal life, without worrying about homework on top of the several hours I have already spent in school. Alas.

This week is a strange week, because the Fourth of July strikes on Wednesday, in the middle of the week. So we have this random day off (not complaining, of course), but it's just kind of awkward, because you can't really make a weekend out of it, can't really justify like a three-day weekend. It's just kind of there, to oddly cut up the the week. So I think going into the week, everyone at work kind of senses this is a weird week, and it doesn't seem to be as much, business as usual. So, this is why I did not feel guilty not really doing work today, instead watching the closing arguments of both the government and the defense in this crazy mafia case that started about 3 weeks ago. I had seen the government's examination of its star witness on the stand, but hadn't seen anything else, as my work comes first, and I had had an intense and busy two weeks. But I really wanted to see the end, especially since I had heard from other interns who had seen more of the trial, that the defense attorney was something else. And oh boy, was he something else. I don't think I can really describe it; instead, the following clip from the movie-musical Chicago does a pretty accurate rendition of today in court:

Richard Gere as criminal defense attorney Billy Flynn in Chicago, copyright Miramax, 2002.

Yeah. That was pretty much it. The defense attorney was certainly charismatic and emphatic, getting up and walking around, walking towards the jury, at times being almost conversational with them. There really is a certain type of art to effective oral argument, at least if you are on the defense side. But, he spent a lot of time distracting from the main crux of the government's case: namely, the facts. He spent a lot of time trying to impeach the credibility of the government's star witness, who admittedly is not a good or very redeemed person, and upon whom the government rested probably 80% of its case. And he spent also a lot of time trying to impeach the whole process taken by the government-- riding the ragged edge of insinuating prosecutorial misconduct, and trying to rile the jury up about the spending ("wasting") of "their tax dollars" on this "sham" and "disgrace" of a case. He did this with a lot of catchy sound bytes (my personal favorite was his claim that the government was going after his client because he did not join "Team America" and roll over on other guys in the Mafia), and with some information or allegations, that may or may not have actually been in the real trial record (I don't know, as I didn't see the whole case, but that was the jist of a lot of the prosecution's rebuttal). What he didn't spend a lot of time doing, was picking apart the actual content of the evidence against his client. Because while there definitely was heavy reliance on the testimony of this one star witness, and a few other cooperators, there also were recorded conversations from "bugged" individuals and places, that were pretty incriminating. Oh, he picked apart the context of the the conversations, he attacked the fact that they were edited, suggesting that the government "strategically cut" parts of the testimony, to make it look like his client talked about something, or people were talking about his client in a certain way, when if fact it was something totally different. But he didn't really get into what was actually said, trying to pick *that* apart and discredit the actual information. He did that in one instance kind of thoroughly, but it wasn't an instance going to the most serious or damning of the charges, and he didn't really do anything more with it. He kind of relied on a lot of tangents and allegations, and conjectures about both his client and the witnesses. On an emotional level, it was very effective. But, I don't know, in my very inexperienced opinion, I think my strategy would be to, as much as possible "go for the throat," and try to dismantle, piece-by-piece, the content of whatever evidence was presented against my client. But that is just me, and I guess you fight with the troops you got, or, in this case, with the case you got, to squeeze someone through the door of reasonable doubt. As the movie said, "how can they [the jury/tier of fact] see with sequins in their eyes?" It will remain to be seen how effectively the attorney's conjectures and emotional appeals go over with the jury.

Either way, it is back to the regular work for me tomorrow. Since I spent all day in court today, I really go to book it.

This weekend was really nice. I headed out of the city again, this time to see some family on my Dad's side (my aunt and my cousin, who is about 2 years younger than me). They are really cool people-- very artsy; in fact, I have linked to my cousin's blog on this blog page, so you should totally check it out. They do really good pottery, as well as paintings and drawings. My cousin also makes cool jewelry and wares like aprons. I even got a piece done by my cousin to take back with me and hang in my apartment in Chicago (wherever that happens to be; after a year of listening to construction, I finally decided my boyfriend and I need to move to a quieter (and cheaper) part of town). And they are generally chill people. They live in Princeton, NJ, so I headed out there on Saturday morning, as it is really only an hour away by train. They took me to lunch in Princeton, so I finally got to see at least the periphery of the famous Ivy League school, if not the actual campus. Princeton is basically your typical college town, although a bit more up-scale, with a lot of quasi-expensive restaurants and like, boutique, bougie stores. We also drove by Princeton Plainsboro Hospital, of House fame. Not going to lie: I was geeking a just a little. I kind of stopped watching the show because, law school. It was also getting kind of soap-opera-ish. But, I am always a fan of Hugh Laurie's snark. Not going to lie: I had a bit of a TV crush on Doctor House during the time when I was a regular watcher of the show.

Then we headed into New Hope, PA, a little town right over the NJ-PA border. As a side note, the concept of being able to go between multiple states in a matter of a few hours, is a concept I have only just recently fully wrapped my head around. As someone who grew up in California, where the nearest state border was about 5.5 hours away by car, the whole small-ness and easy-access of states on the East Coast, was something that really blew my mind. So, three states in one day. Not bad. And New Hope was cool. It was an example of why I love the East Coast: many of the buildings were pretty old and colonial, some probably dating from the mid-1800s or earlier. As a confessed history geek, things like this just fascinate and excite me, and I am also just generally into older-style, Colonial or Victorian architecture. And in California, it being a relatively new state, and relatively new to mass-development, you just don't get it. There isn't all that much that is "old," that is still usable. Sure, there are things dating from around the Gold Rush, but honestly those are usually relegated to re-enactment towns where elementary school kids go on their 4th grade "let's learn about California history" field trips. Other than in San Francisco, you really don't get the same kind of impressive, really objectively historical and old types of buildings, that are still functional.

Anyway, New Hope was fun. It's kind of a hippy town, although it is starting to get a bit more upscale. It had a lot of independent stores selling original art-- not the mass-produced stuff you see in like a Target, but either originals by the store purveyor his or her self, or original works by local artists. Some of the stores even branched out beyond that, and featured international or international-inspired work. One store dealt in handcrafted art from Mexico, another in Celtic/Irish (and, somewhat randomly, Spanish) art, and another in Native American art. There were also the requisite Tye-Dye and Vintage Stores. And, generally speaking, much of the stuff was pretty reasonably priced (also, I love you, anywhere that isn't California-Chicago-NYC. Namely, I love the fact that sales tax was 6%). I even got a cool mirror (for the reasonable price of $40) that has a wrought-iron vine/leaf border around the glass. Assuming I can get it to Chicago in one piece, it will make a very cool addition to my new apartment. And, my aunt and I even got our fortunes read. My cousin had recommended this lady as a palm reader-- I guess she and one of her friends had come in to the town before, and had theirs done, and were impressed. I have to say, I was more impressed by her reading of my aunt's palm than mine, but it was entertaining nonetheless. The last time I had had my palm read (or it might have been Tarot, I honestly don't remember), was when I was like 13, at the Renaissance Faire in Casa de Fruita, CA. So I guess it was time.:0)

I really enjoyed hanging out with my family, particularly since they are people that, being on the opposite coast from me, I never really saw all the much growing up. But now I see at least my cousin more frequently, because she is at the University of Michigan, and I go to Michigan from Chicago fairly frequently. I think I have seen my cousin more times in the last 4 or so years, than in the previous 10-15 years combined. It is nice to be closer to that side of the family, because they weren't as much of a presence in my life as my mom's side, who pretty much all live within a one-hour radius of each other in California. And the distance and lack of regularity in seeing my other family, has always been something I have regretted from my childhood. Nothing could be done, obviously, because people were where they were, but it still was kind of a lack in my family life.

See, I am capable of having normal, not angry or angsty posts. I swear I am more balanced than perhaps the "angry bitch post" suggests. I hope you liked the added bit of "flare" of the video! Anyway, to my loyal readers, until next time.

Soapbox No. 2: The Angry Bitch Post

Disclaimer right now: This post is going to be more angry than pensive, unlike my other more non-narrative posts. So, if blunt-to-the-point-of aggressive thoughts (or the peppering of the "F" word) bothers you, you may wish to skip this one. Warning: it will be entirely un-PC.

I saw an article today that got me fuming for pretty much half the day. Apparently, some court in Germany has decided that male circumcision of infants, is assault, effectively banning the practice, at least legally. Interestingly, this is a law that will primarily affect only religious and ethnic minorities-- namely, Jews and Muslims-- because the court specifically said that it is banned in the case of religious--as opposed to medical (and I guess then, hygienic?)-- reasons.

First: Germany. No one in the official media is sayin' it, but you *know* we are all thinking it...

Secondly, this ruling is crap. The court, in its opinion, said the "fundamental right of the child to lebensraum bodily integrity outweighed the fundamental rights of the parents." This ruling puts into legal precedent something a lot of bleeding-heart types have wanted for a long time: basically, to force religious leaders and doctors (the law in Germany didn't preclude the practice if done by doctors, but this is in fact what a lot of the proponents for this type of ban actually do want) to stop performing the procedure. Namely, to take away people's right to consider the pros and cons, and decide for themselves. In doing so, these do-gooder types have described the practice as "barbaric," and have likened it to female genital mutilation, which is practiced in many, lesser-developed societies. The court said that it takes away the child's right to "choose his religion" later on, because *so* much of your spirituality is dependent on being "intact" (I would like to point out at this juncture that there are many people of all sorts of religions, or none at all, that have it done. So no, I don't think anyone is going to say you can't decide to be Catholic when you are older, because a moyel did a bris on you when you were 8 days old). And, from what I can tell from reading the comments by the peanut gallery that tend to come after such internet articles, most people agreed with this decision, and want to see it "spread" to the rest of the civilized world.

I am going to address (briefly) some of their arguments:

1. It is not just an "old religious tradition" that has no practical meaning. Now, if you know anything about me, you know my thoughts on religion (Sparknotes version: I don't like it). But every so often, it actually gets something right. Shocking, I know. Look, a lot of what got codified as religious dogma back in the day, actually came out of practical realities of the time, dictates that were put down so that people wouldn't get their assess kicked by nature, and thus the society could survive. One of these things was circumcision. Namely, intact people have a higher chance of getting very painful infections, because bacteria and other nasties can get trapped, um, "there," if not thoroughly cleaned. Since it was hard to be thoroughly cleaned back in the day, it was a good preventative measure in terms of not getting what I imagine would be a really nasty condition. Now, proponents of the no-circumcision thing say that this is no longer necessary, as we live in a much more hygienic society, and it is unlikely that it will cause problems, so you are putting someone through trauma for no reason. Which brings me to my next point...

2. Just because it is "less likely" to cause problems, doesn't mean it shouldn't be dealt with. Now, I a not a religious person, but if I ever have sons-- assuming the bleeding hearts haven't rammed through some kind of law banning it by then-- I am going to get them "altered" at the hospital, before we leave. Why? Because the peace of mind that it is one less potentially very problematic health issue they will have to deal with growing up. As humans, we take out and preemptively deal with "unnecessary" body parts all the time, before they become an issue. Exhibit A: wisdom teeth. Wisdom teeth are pretty much universally taken out now when a teen is around 16 years old, before they have erupted. Why? Because when they erupt, at best they cause teeth to overcrowd, and at worst they grow in impacted, leading to a very painful, likely-to-be infected,situation. So we take them out ahead of time, to just avoid the whole nasty situation. It is likewise the same with circumcision. Yes, it is a "natural" part of the male body, but no, males do not need it, and the potential problems it can cause down the line just aren't worth having it around.

3. Now, a lot of proponents of no circumcision would say, "but any surgical or quasi-surgical procedure carries a risk that someone is going to botch it, or that it will be infected, and so it is an unnecessary risk." Yes, that is in fact true. Hopefully, you vet the people performing these things, but shit does, in fact, happen. Same can be said for wisdom teeth. In fact, I think the risk of infection might be higher for wisdom teeth, since I kept hearing horror stories about dry socket before I got mine done. And thus I was paranoid about following doctor's orders, and keeping my mouth clean. But you know what? If the doctor or moyel knows what he is doing, I bet that risk is pretty low, probably lower than the risk of infection if you keep it around (you can clean yourself all you want, but the skin is easily inflamed or infected, particularly if you have bad skin to begin with. I consider myself pretty hygienic; still didn't prevent me from getting a bad cyst infection this year that required (very painful, like a 9/10 on the scale ER doctors keep asking you about) draining and two visits to the ER). And what do you think is more traumatic for someone? An infection in infancy, when you won't remember it, or a very painful infection "down there" that you have to deal with after your brain and neuron connections have fully developed? A minor surgical procedure when you are a week old, or a what will be a more major surgery should you choose to get it done later in life? I had some pretty serious operations in infancy that, while I get to tell some cool/shocking stories about them, I thank my lucky stars that I don't remember jack shit, because I don't know if I could mentally handle "heart failure" and "open heart surgery" thrown at me, now that I am old enough to be aware of what that means, and what getting it worked on could entail (namely, flatlining in the OR). Oh, and: Twice. Twice this happened. I don't need that in my memory.

4. Which again brings me to another point: pain. A lot of people think it is bad because it is painful for the babies. This is the only point on which they have kind of a point. Apparently, when done in religious ceremonies, or even in some hospitals, they don't bother to use anesthesia. That is fucking stupid, I admit. Spring a lil cash, and get some local anesthesia. Problem solved. A lot of the proponents of this ban say that by deferring it, you are letting the guy decide on his bodily integrity later in life, when he has capacity to control his destiny or whatever. You know what is going to be more painful than some un-anesthetized cutting when the infant is too young to remember? Cutting it when it has fully developed, necessitating a more major procedure, and thus a more protracted recovery time. I had some foot surgery done last summer, and I had to take the Vicodin they gave me to the max dosage to get the pain down during recovery. And then my body couldn't handle it, so I vomited. So basically, it fucking sucked. So, what guy is going to want to voluntarily go through this when he is older, even if it is objectively beneficial?

5. People who claim that circumcision-- particularly in a religious context-- is "mutilation," and compare it to the hack job that women in undeveloped societies have to deal with. If you can't tell the difference between a minor quasi-surgical procedure that has objective health benefits and an easy recovery, and a procedure that is meant to take all sexual pleasure away from women by creating constant pain, as a way to keep them virgins until they marry, and then obedient to their husbands (or murder, or honor killings or foot binding, or abortion, which are some of the other comparisons people have been making), then sorry. You are a fucking idiot.

Although, this court in Germany might just get the Nobel Peace Prize for their little stunt. Because they just did the fucking impossible: they succeeded in uniting the Jewish and Muslim populations, in solidarity outrage over this law that makes a major ceremony in their respective religions illegal.

Why do I bring this all up? Because this law is the epitome of why it is becoming increasingly less of a question of "if," and more of a question of "when" I am going to give up on society as a whole, and go somewhere remote to become a crazy cat lady (or dogs, or bunnies, or really any small, fluffy, blood pressure-reducing critter).

Why? Because increasingly, I am seeing that one cannot escape from the tyranny of the "opinion" if one is to live in society. As the saying goes, opinions are like assholes: everyone's got one. Except people aren't happy having their opinions be just that: opinions. Oh no, they have to make everyone agree with their opinions, if not by persuasion then by force. Like this law: because *some* people think that circumcision is not necessary and a bad practice, they now must take away the ability of parents to fully consider the issue, and then make the decision they find is best for their child. Oh no, because *they* think it is bad, it must be bad as they could not *possibly* be wrong, so *they* should get to decide for everyone else. Because, you know, anyone who disagrees is obviously a barbarian, and so we couldn't possibly listen to what they have to say, or consider their side. Or a slut.

And I see this everywhere I go, from official policy to family, religious and culture tradition, to peer pressure. People think they got it all figured out, and that because something works for them, or comports with their morality or world view, everyone else must follow suit. You know why I don't "do" religion? I got into a big fight about this with my mom on my parent's anniversary. I told my mom "I am not a Christian," (which I am not-- I am not anything, even though I grew up Episcopalian/Anglican/whatever). She got all angry because she thought that my declaration was my trying to disavow my heritage, culture, and the way my parents raised me. That is not it at all. I think I take a lot of deference to the values my parents instilled in me-- like honesty, loyalty, hard work, and independence. But I can have those values without being tied down to a religious doctrine. In reality, I don't "do" religion because all I see it as, is more bars on the jailhouse door, so to speak. With everyone else trying to force their way of living or beliefs on you, why would anyone gratuitously add yet another level of restriction and dictation, of "moral imperative," particularly given by people who have no idea about the individual circumstances of others, and are taking their direction from a book or books (depending on your religion) written in a society in no way, shape, or form similar to the way we are living now? That is why I don't do religion, primarily (there is also the issue that I think that the question of whether there is a god/higher power, is not dispositive of the question of whether we should worship it or do what it says. But that is a post for another day.)

Basically, I follow a simple life philosophy, cliched but true: live and let live. As much as possible, I try to not gratuitously be a bitch to people, or get up in their business. I observe things around me, I observe how people behave. And a lot of it I may not approve of, because it violates my sense of what it is to not be a jerk, and therefore wouldn't do myself. But, so long as what these people are doing doesn't directly affect my ability to lead my quiet, relatively uneventful life in peace, I am not enough of an arrogant prick to think that because I think certain things are wrong or stupid, I should force others to comply with the way I behave. Because the only person who knows what is right for a person, is that person. And sometimes people make bad choices, and have to-- or should have to-- deal with the consequences. This is what I believe in regards to others, so I expect the same common courtesy in return. I am not my brother's keeper, and neither is he mine. And that, my friends, is the essence of freedom: the ability to define one's own existence, in peace. To rise and fall as the results of one's own actions. To make choices, and to learn from them. To *live*. To, in the words of our Founding Fathers, pursue happiness, so long as it is not in a destructive way (towards others. And no, "emotional distress" or "being offended" don't count. To use the language of the German court, the right to free speech-- as expression is part of really living-- outweighs any right to not have one's feelings hurt). Existing and living are not the same thing. I don't want to be part of a society that only lets me exist, and not live. This is also incidentally why no, I am not some crazy Anarchist. I think organized government and a legal system is imperative to preserving-- as much as possible-- the right to live and let live. Since rapists, murders, thieves, fundamentally violate this credo. And deserve their just desserts for it.

Sometimes I think maybe things will change, maybe people will see the light and start valuing freedom over their own little pet sensibilities. But no, it seems that increasingly, people are willing to trade their freedom-- and encourage others to take freedoms and choices away-- for whatever reason they agree with. On the right, it is this bullshit moral majority crap (because when one decides to have sex, or whether one exposes his or her hair or their skin, or whether one use contraception, or who one consensually loves and marries, or if one eats dairy with meat, or meat on Fridays, or works on the Sabbath, is so fucking dispositive of whether or not they are a "good" person, and so fucking relevant to the lives of those not involved). On the left, it is this collectivist mindset of "for the good of everyone/the whole/society." Or, you know, environment (also, have you people learned nothing from the 20th century? The path to hell is fucking paved with trying to forcibly promote or establish some person's or people's idea of "for the good of society." Seriously, go open a history book, and educate yourselves). And as much as either side is willing to call out their nemesis's bullshit, they will refuse to look at, analyze, or call out their own, finding a million and one excuses (my favorite, on the left, is the "externalities" argument. Yeah, pretty much everything has externalities. Still doesn't mean you should be able to tell me when and where I can have a fire in my fireplace, IN MY OWN GODDAMN HOUSE) why the other side's efforts to curtail freedom and choice is crap, but *their* pet projects are right and fine and "the right thing to do." And people will clamor to this, and actively promote and accept it, if it goes along with whatever excuse they happen to find persuasive. So the result is, we are constantly being squeezed, from the right, from the left.

One of the objections my boyfriend has when we get into this discussion, which usually turns into a fight (my boyfriend, bless his heart, is the eternal optimist, and also profoundly liberal), is that I have had a comparatively blessed life, so "why am I angry?" he says. For the most part, things have gone my way, and I have been lucky enough to have a lot of freedom, a lot of opportunity, and not much in my way. Aside from that lil snafu at the beginning of my life (which has not been a further problem for 21 years), I've had it good. So perhaps it seems bratty that I am so angry about all of this. But that is exactly my point: it is comparatively good right now, for me more than a lot of others, but for most people as well. It could always be better, but we are no longer indentured servants on feudal estates, having to do what "god and country (being one dude who has everything go his way)" tell us to do. We are living the Enlightenment dream, to be fully autonomous, free-thinking individuals. Or at least we should be. But freedom is a very precarious thing, it is fragile and exceedingly fleeting. Drop the ball once, relax on your laurels of individualism too long, and it can be snatched from under you. And what I am seeing around the globe lately-- retrenchment back into religious dogma, or a heightened drive towards "collectivism" -- threatens the delicate liberty we were all taught to believe in. And the problem is, people don't seem to care. They are too distracted by infighting to notice, and in many instances, are willing participants. For a long time, this country (with the exception maybe of the influence of the church, unfortunately) generally had a hands-off approach to people doing their thing, whether through official policy or otherwise. I feel like we are getting away from this, and this is bad. That is why, even though my existence is privileged, I must-- as should we all-- call out the bullshit when we see it. Because people trying to unduly control others (and I don't even mean in an official way, like with laws, but just in general) is like a cancer-- easier to keep in check when it is small and just beginning, but if it infects the body, it is exceedingly difficult to kill, and either the disease-- or, in some cases, the treatment-- will end up killing the body. But, it seems like no one is really willing to do this, because they agree with some of it, and fail to see the forest for the trees. Which depresses the hell out of me.

I imagine for my fiercely individualist views, I will be called or thought of in many different, unflattering terms: crazy, selfish, cold, mean, bitchy, uncaring, hedonistic, immoral, unbalanced, "a slut." But, if you couldn't tell from my blog, I really stopped giving these labels any sort of power over me, a long time ago. It not my problem what people choose to label or see me as, as long as I am true and honest to myself. Yes, it is important to be mindful of how one is perceived, but not at the expense of what makes you, you. As someone once said (again a cliche, but true): it is better to be hated for who you are, than loved for who you are not. So, I guess if it really gets to an extreme point of people trying to force others into their version of conformity, I probably will leave for a remote destination; like a line from one of my favorite movies says, I will "leave the madness over the mountains." Because I won't compromise myself or my integrity just to "get on" in the world.

Damn. I am starting to sound like Holden-fucking-Caufield. And I didn't even really like that book much.

Readers, if any of you agree with me on any of the above, please do leave comments. It would be nice to know that I am not alone. Or better yet, send your friends the link to this page, to "spread the word." But, somehow I don't think this will really happen, as I think I am in the significant minority over here.

Anyway, thanks for listening/reading. Particularly if any of what I said just attacked what you believed. If you continued reading in spite of that, I have a lot of respect for you. I am just trying to get people to think, to stop reacting and start acting. And sometimes you just have to be blunt. Anyway, it will be back to the regular mood of this blog on the next post.

Not-so-Part-Two: Another Week in NYC

So... apparently I didn't ever finish part two of my "part one" from last weekend's post. Unfortunately, I got hit with a project at work that I didn't know was going to turn into War and Peace, so that sucked my life for a week. Luckily I was so busy this week that I didn't do much, so I can fit a week's worth of stuff into one post without it being ridiculous.

When I last left my narrative, I was about to go to Connecticut. So yes, Connecticut. My boyfriend is from Connecticut, and was able to find a cheap rate on Spirit Airways to come out for Father's Day. So even though he had already been in Chicago for a week, he flew back out and met me in New York on that Friday. He actually met me at like 10:30p.m. in Brooklyn, because a friend of his was jazz singing in a cafe/bar/lounge in Park Slope.

Anyway, that Saturday morning we took the Greyhound bus from Times Square to Hartford. Also: I didn't know buses were such a thing. Maybe it is because I am from California, and other than Los Angeles, Santa Barbara or San Diego, there really aren't major "hubs" people will be traveling to within the same state. But Greyhound-- or long-distance bus travel in general-- is definitely not as much of a thing as it is here on the East Coast, apparently. Like, the Port Authority bus terminal in Manhattan is the size of a small airport. Like, I am pretty sure it might be bigger-- square footage as well as the number of vehicles serviced-- than the Harrisburg, PA or Boise, ID airports (yes, for a variety of reasons, I have actually flown in and out of those airports. On multiple occasions).

It was nice to meet up and hang out with my boyfriend's family. They are a lot like my dad's side of the family in that there are a lot of them, and whenever there is an event (and having the kids come home to visit qualifies as an event), they all get together in one place. The first day (Saturday) I was there, we basically hung out. Went to this burger joint that, for context for all you Chicago dwellers our there, is kind of like Epic Burger. Except they had better shakes. And then that evening we went to the aforementioned dinner/cookout with the boyfriend's family. On Sunday, I went with my boyfriend's mom and kid sister (she's nine-- which is kind of scary for me because when I first met her, she had just barely turned five) to watch the boyfriend sing in a showcase. When he was in high school, he was part of this program that gives scholarships to students, so that they can take very intensive lessons in singing. Over the 2-3 years of the program, the student's get something like $25K worth of lessons and training; the students have to try out to get in, and every "class" is only like 5 or 6 people. So it's kind of a big deal. And I guess (not surprisingly) at the "end" of the year (by school counting), the current students put on a showcase of songs. This year was their 10th anniversary, so as a special thing, they invited all the alumni back to sing in the final two numbers-- one on their own, one with the current students. It was really nice because, other than just generally being quality music, this was something I had heard a lot about from my boyfriend, and that I knew was and is an important part of his life. So it was nice that I actually got to share in it with him a little.

He also knows a lot of the people running the program (I guess not surprisingly, since the program is so small), so I actually (briefly) met some of those people as well. The craziest thing I saw at the reception, however, was this: One of the ladies in charge of the program had her mother there. The lady-- not the mother-- is probably in her late 70s. Apparently her mother is 99 years old (and, actually looked "spry"-- I would have placed her in her late 80s). For context (as I pointed out to my boyfriend at the time): when this woman was born, World War I hadn't happened yet. Can you imagine what this lady must have seen in her life? The kind of memories she must have? And how much of a mind-fuck it must be to live in this day and age, being so different from anything she would have known when she was a child/teen/young adult? How can one even deal with that? I am of two minds about living that old (if, of course, I still basically have my wits about me. Otherwise, forget it). On the one hand, I think it would be fascinating to have lived through the 20th century, to see the kind of change and world-events that she could have seen. To be a "memory-keeper" of sorts of the past. In other ways, I think it would be profoundly depressing. Other than her daughter and any possible grandkids, everyone she ever knew or loved I am sure have long passed on. Any husband, siblings, parents, aunts, uncles, friends, associates. And the world in which she would have been most active-- when she was young, through perhaps her 60s or 70s-- has also long passed on. She would have just come into the world as a young adult in the early 1930s. Think about that. In a way, it is quite poignant. But then, I always found movies about people who live forever, like Tuck Everlasting or Interview with a Vampire, bittersweet, more than scary or love-storyish or whatever was the main intention of the moviemakers. Because I always think about things like that-- what would be lost, what would be gained in living so long, and I find it kind of sad, in a way.

Anyway, I returned on Sunday evening. And didn't do much the whole week except work on this project. It was quite interesting, but sucked my life as I had to go through like 10lbs worth of trial records, in addition to about 75 cases (culled from an initial list of like 150). The brief section I wrote ended up being like 15 pages. But it is gratifying to know that the work I am doing is actually going to be meaningful-- in this case, helping to keep someone who should be in jail, stay in jail. A nice change from the "meaning" being grades/GPA, which I am finding to be increasingly not meaningful, and as such am having increasingly less patience with it.

On Tuesday the boyfriend swung back into New York for the evening, as his flight was at like 8:30am on Wednesday, out of LaGuardia, and understandably did not want to get up at like 3am to come into the city from Connecticut. We ended up meeting his friend again (the jazz singer) at this very chic bar/lounge on Park Avenue near Grand Central Station. I had dressed up because I knew that this place was going to be a classy joint. And it was. To the tune of $15 drinks and $7 tea. But it was an experience. The friend actually wasn't singing-- it was a friend of hers that had gotten the gig to sing at the place, and she had come out to support her. Since the boyfriend and I wanted to have some time to actually talk to his friend (the last two times-- at a house party and a gig in which she was singing-- were not really conducive to hanging out and chatting), we decided to go along. We were there for probably like two hours. And it was really one of those few moments that I felt "like an adult," as I am apparently now considered (I will be 24 in a couple months. No pretending like I could at 21 or 22-- this is real "twenties-something" territory. Which scares the hell out of me). I don't know; I feel like growing up-- particularly as part of the generation that grew up with Friends, Sex and the City, and the tail end of Seinfeld, we were all given these expectations about what being a young adult would be like: living in a cute apartment in some big city, getting together with regular friends after work at what my friend Kathryn has dubbed a "sitcom bar," just hanging out, and "being adults," with a variety of mostly minor social life dramas. But, for a variety of reasons-- particularly "reality"-- that is not what being a twenties-something is like. There is a lot more uncertainty about your life. Your drama isn't about your latest breakup or fling, so much as it is about, "holy shit what am I going to do with my life," or "I am doing something I don't like, but don't know how or where to change." Everyone I know who is is their early-mid twenties are experiencing one or both of those problems. For me, I still feel not really like an adult, even though I now go to a "job" (internship) every day, and have a (surprising) amount of responsibility in the work I do. I am still a student, I am still living for the most part off the graces of my parents and the federal government, so I don't feel very "grown up." So being at this trendy bar, in New York, listening to live music and drinking expensive drinks, I felt like I was finally experiencing what "being an adult" was always shown to mean. I felt like I was actually living the perception I had always had about what people do when they are "grown up."

Nothing really interesting happened the rest of the week. I worked on the project. I got a massage on Friday courtesy of Groupon, at a spa conveniently located a five-minute walk from the dining hall in which I eat dinner on week nights. It was quite relaxing, and much needed, and after the hour treatment, I could finally move things like my back and shoulders without hearing/feeling the joints pop. Unfortunately, the effects of this massage were short-lived. I had hauled with me the aforementioned 10lbs of trial materials in my briefcase bag, knowing I would have to work on this project over the weekend. Naturally, I got lost on the way back to my dorm (not really lost; just couldn't find the subway entrance. As a side note: Greenwich Village, wtf? Y u no make directional sense?). So after like 40 minutes of that, my shoulders were back to being pretty tense. Guess I will have to treat myself to another next month. :0)

Saturday I didn't do much, at all. I didn't even get up until 12:30pm (I think having pulled a lot of late nights the prior week to get shit done, really took a toll which my body was then trying to make up on the weekend). And then I spent most of the day *still* working on the brief. Since the internet at work sucks, I had spent most of the week just trying to read and note and create reference points in all the case law and trial material, so I didn't really even get to writing the thing until Friday. But, since it was the weekend, and since I am determined to not waste my time in NYC (I can sit in my room and do work at home, back in Chicago. If I am out here, I should do something). So, I did go out around 6:30pm to Chelsea Market, which is an interesting combination between like a food marketplace, and a food court. Chelsea, apparently, is a very trendy and high-class neighborhood of NYC (as I could tell from the stores, clubs, and apartment buildings I was passing by. Out of my price range for now, I am afraid), and Chelsea Market is probably one of the more upscale food markets/courts you will find. It's in an old factory of some sort that hsd been rehabbed and yuppified on the inside. I have to say, though, the food was good at the little restaurant I went to. Another, more minor moment, of feeling like a "real"young twenties-something. It definitely seemed like the kind of place a group of trendy young adult friends would go out to on the weekend for a more "casual" evening. I enjoyed.

On Sunday, I again didn't get going very early. I got myself up around noon, because I had a 1pm boat to catch from Battery Park, which would take me to Ellis Island. So I got another thing off my NYC bucket list, yay! Although my ticket would have allowed for it, I didn't get off at the Statute of Liberty Island. You can't climb up to the very top any more because of security, and I think even the base is closed for rehab. So all people were doing, was milling around the outside of the base, looking up and taking pictures. Frankly, I got a better view from a bit further back, on the boat, while we docked and waited for people to get off at the island/get on the boat.

Ellis Island was cool. You can tell that they put a lot of work into rehabbing the building-- it looks really good for being like 125 years old. Initially, I was going to try to make an appointment to look up family records-- you have to do that ahead of time-- since my mom's great-grandfather's family came over from Norway in the 1870s, and came through New York before heading out to Chicago (how things come full circle, no?). But, apparently Ellis Island wasn't a thing until 1892, so my family would have actually come through a port in lower Manhattan (now the site of Battery Park). And anyway, any records that may have existed, probably got burned up. Apparently, a couple years after the *first*, wooden Ellis Island building opened, the whole thing went up in flames, taking most of the immigration records going back to the 1850s with it. Alas. And on my dad's side-- hell, we have been in this country for freaking generations. We are about as old as the country itself. For example, one branch of the family tree apparently owned a plantation in Maryland, and a few years after Americans were like, "England? Eh, not so much," sold the land to the Federal Government to create what is now the Naval Academy at Annapolis. In conclusion: no, no we did not come through Ellis Island. Also, I feel like the fact that part of my family like sold/gave the government the land to create a military academy, should entitle me to some kind of tax break. One can dream...

Ellis Island is basically a museum inside the old port-of-call and inspection rooms. It chronicles the peopling of North America/ the United States from about the 1500s until the 1920s. It was actually quite interesting, and I always enjoy looking at old photos of people, and hearing/seeing first person accounts from the past. But then I am a history nerd. The one thing that miffed me about the earlier section (immigration from 1500 until 1892), was that the exhibit seemed like it was trying too hard to be "fair and balanced" in regards to specifically the plight of the Indians/Native Americans, to the point that it was borderline (dare I say it?) anti-American. I am not stupid or naive enough to think the founding of America was all sunshine and roses, but the adjectives/tones used in regards to actions taken by settlers/the U.S. government, versus that taken with regards to Indian raids and wars, were much more negative or condemning. I am for telling history like it is, and as fashionable as the "oh the horrible settlers/the poor indians" mindset is these days, I don't think taking "sides" is good history study. Both had a lot of good, and a lot of not-so-good, on each side. The history and motivations of settlement versus native rights is complex, and I personally think it is not an issue of one being more or less "right" or "good" than the other. If you are going to tell history, tell it straight. Tell the good and the bad for both, but don't try to up-play the evils of one, and downplay that of of the other, to score some kind of political points. At least as much as possible. Ok. Rant over.

The most interesting section of the museum-- at least for me-- was the stuff detailing immigration from 1892 until the mid-1920s; basically, immigration during the Ellis Island period. It was the coolest because it came at the time when immigration became a much more regulated and regular thing. So there were things like passports, and boat ledgers, and certificates of citizenship or naturalization. It was fascinating to see in the ledgers where people where coming from, but more so when you realize that you are looking at the very writing of real people, taking down the information of real immigrants to this country. I feel like history can get quite rarified and abstracted, so it is really affecting-- at least to me-- when things like this create reminders that behind the stories, and the even the photos, that there were real flesh-and-blood people involved. For the same reason, I thought the room full of old passports showing the pictures and information of people from all over the world, a hundred years ago, was quite amazing. And I learned quite a lot about what groups of people came over, when and why. Like, I always knew that the Irish and Italians were a big group, as well as the Chinese in California. But I had no idea that Sweden was another country from whence a lot of people came over. I mean, I knew the midwest was a mecca for Scandinavians, but I always thought it was kind of an even hodgepodge. Not so. Domination by the Swedes, for sure. Also, side note on the pictures they had of the conditions/tenements recent immigrants lived in, at least in NYC: dude, what a shithole.

So, that was basically my week/weekend. Today I went to work (a little later than usual, since I had been up until 2:30am in the morning finally finishing that brief project. And I felt *so* much more relaxed now that it is off my plate for while. I was handed a document review project for the day (basically, proofing/copy editing of a brief before it goes to a court). It was on one of the first issues I had researched extensively and written up at work, and what do you know, most of what I had written was included in the brief. To be formally submitted as an argument, on behalf of the U.S. Government, in federal court. So, I thought that was pretty cool. Makes me feel like a) if nothing else, I don't suck at this whole "law" thing and b) my writing might actually be halfway decent (which was nice, considering the piece-o-crap my final brief project in school was, and the subsequent (and deserved) shellacking it received from my professor). So, at least I am doing something right.

That's all for this evening. I was thinking of going into some politics/philosophy I had been mulling over the last week, when I wasn't working on the brief. Except that it is again late at night, and I had hoped to get to bed earlier this evening. Goddamn it.

Until next time. Hopefully now that things have calmed down and aren't as pressing, I can *actually* do this blog on a more regular basis. For those of you reading, thank you for your patience. Have a good night.

Battle Cry of an Iconoclast

Hello. My name is Kristin, and I am an iconoclast.

And no, I don't mean those old religious people who like 500 years ago were against images of God or whatever. I mean, over the last several years, I have developed a world-view that in many ways, goes against currently-accepted social thought. Some of that thought is relatively recent neo-liberal doublethink, some of it is 1000s of years of human thought. Which means, I will probably at some point in my life hurt/piss off/offend people who have bought into any of the above. I honestly don't know what to do; I don't hold any of these beliefs in malice or to harm anyone. I hold these beliefs because at my core being, the one principle I hold above all others, is that humans were and are meant to be free. That humans have a right and deserve to be free. Honestly, that is why I am interested in criminal law: I believe that criminals take from others that right. I don't construe freedom as, "let's all just run wild like hyenas." I construe freedom as the ability to choose the definitions and experiences of one's own life, in ways that do not palpably harm another (in terms of physical violation or property violation; I get off the boat at "emotional distress" or "offense.") But, I feel like not so many people--friends, family, loved ones, co-workers-- will not be so understanding of my beliefs, and will some how take it personally that I hold them. So, I guess this is in my in-advance apology. If I say or do anything to upset you out of these beliefs, know that I do it not because I think less of you, but because just as some cling fervently to their religion or their country or their politics or their cause, this desire for freedom is my religion. I cannot let it go any more than the Pope can let go of his faith.

So, here are some of the things I believe, that will probably make me a social pariah. Alas.

1. Religion. Why? Why should I construe my life or behavior according to what some guys (because let's be real, most religions were written by men) wrote down a long time ago? This isn't even getting to the question of whether a god or gods exist (although, its existence wouldn't change my belief; if a god or god-like power exists, it has shown itself to be a tyrant of sorts, and goes against humanity's right to freedom and self-determination). I am totally willing to admit that when they wrote the rules, many--perhaps most-- came out of the practical needs and realities of the time and societies in which they arose. Great. But times change, people change, society changes and moves on. Why should the dictates of 500, 2000, 4000 years ago still be relevant to my life, to my own sense of morality? Obviously, there are the basics: don't lie, don't steal, don't kill anyone. But beyond that, so much has changed. The world is not at all structured the way it was back in the day. I think the core of religions is basically, "don't be a jerk." Beyond that, why should it matter if my hair shows, if I eat meat on Fridays, if I use birth control, if I get married, if I don't get married, if I have one partner, if I have many?

2. The "American work ethic." I believe in hard work, I believe in believing in what you do, and trying to do it to the best of your ability. I believe that what you put into life, you should get out of it, but you should not just be handed things. That being said, I disagree with this mentality (not helped by the shitty economy) that you will or should jump through whatever hoops your boss puts in your way. I don't think working 80,90 hours a week is healthy. I don't think being "on call" 24/7 is healthy (thank you, Crackberries and SmartPhones). I also don't think being a lazy bum is healthy. This kind of goes along with the idea of, "everything in moderation." Take pride in your work, and do it well. But I refuse to sacrifice meaningful relationships (or, perhaps more urgently, my mental or physical health) for a job.

3. The problem of the "work-life balance" in America. Now, all of the following is heresy, but I have heard that a lawyer friend of the family who lives and works in Paris (he is French), doesn't take his work laptop with him on holiday. "Work is work, and vacation is vacation." And, at least as far as I can tell, his bosses and clients are just kind of...fine with that. In China, apparently, the family would be totally chill if you missed Granny's funeral because some major thing came up at work. Try pulling that in this country, and you will never hear the end of it, from both ends. "Where is the memo?" "Why weren't you at Bobby's State Championship hockey game?" Sometimes, I have this fantasy of putting my family, my boss and my clients into one room, and giving them the following speech: "Sometimes, I have to work, even when important things come up with the family. Other times, I have to be with the family, even if shit is blowing up at work. Sometimes, I will choose work over family. Sometimes, I will choose family over work. And all of you (pointing and squinting)... will just FUCKING DEAL WITH IT AND NOT GIVE ME SHIT ABOUT IT. Thank you. That is all." Because in both situations, we have people who are counting on us, whose very lives may be at stake at one time or another. And often times, there will be impossible conflicts, and you have to choose. That's compromise. That's life. Is it really so hard for the relevant parties to even try to understand?

4. Marriage/monogamy/til death do us part. Apparently, biological humans (homo sapien sapiens) have only spent about 5% of their history in long-term monogamous relationships (probably helped by the fact that tree-people humans croaked at age 25). Only 3-5% of all animal species are in paired-off relationships. It was a combination of thinking about all the recent celebrity sex scandals, the ridiculously-high divorce rate (and higher rate of infidelity, often leading to divorce), and a monologue in The Iceman Cometh, where this one character talks about how radical Marxism echews traditional marriage or relationship structures, because they are based on property and ownership, got me thinking. Forget for a moment that a bunch of recent research suggests humans are actually biologically programmed for, essentially, stable-ish relationships with a bit on the side. Fuck biology, because as people will argue, humans are cognitively able to overcome their base biological urges/instincts/etc. I think just from a freedom perspective, the Marxists may have a point (one of the few things on which they do). Isn't the whole idea that while in a relationship, married or not, the partners somehow "belong" to each other, kind of sick? This kind of goes along with number one, on religion. Historians, anthropologists, biologists suggest that monogamy arose as a response to the development of agricultural societies and the need to know "who da baby-daddy" for property-transfer interests. It arose in a situation where women and children were entirely dependent on the man, so you needed to know who was responsible. At least in the West, while not perfect by any means, we are more or less out of that kind of situation. And, back in the day, people croaked young. Now, the "ideal" sets us up for marriages or partnerships of 30, 40, 50, 60 years of being with the same person, and never shall you touch another. That seems very...wrong, in a way. Or it does to me. 50 years is a long time.

So now the idea is that you should and can only ever love one person at a time-- emotionally, physically, etc. But is this right? Are people fundamentally incapable of having a meaningful, loving relationship with more than one person? Why should they be? Love-- and I don't just me the freaky kind (although I think there is something to be said for the proven human biological need for a variety of physical sexual experiences), I mean the real, emotional connection people can have-- is one of the greatest things there is; why should it be limited to one person at a time? And why does it necessarily follow that if you feel such a connection for one person, feeling that for another will somehow take away from your feelings towards the first? I am not saying we should have a license to be irresponsible, because there are concerns over disease and the like. But are we really helped by the fact that people, while living the "fantasy" ideal relationships, have been dinking around with others forever-- and then lying about it, such that disease is more likely to be spread (syphilis in Europe circa 1900s, anyone)? I am not an idiot or a hypocrite; I admit I would be upset if someone "cheated" on me. But is this natural? Is this really the way it should be? Or have we been socially conditioned to think that such infidelity is some kind of personal insult, and not just the expression of the ultimate human need to love and be loved? I love my boyfriend, and I have never and would never do any of the above because we are in a relationship, because I know it would hurt him. And he is the last person on Earth who deserves to be hurt. But, perhaps we are doing ourselves a disservice-- and unintentionally caging those we love most-- by construing love, relationships, and marriage the way society has conditioned us to see and understand them. The strong are the ones who can keep trucking through, and "fight upstream" against the natural current, out of their love for another. My question is, why should this be a battle to begin with?

4. Political correctitude. Don't even get me started. I am going to throw something at the next person who says "diversity" or "sustainable" at me. Why? Not because I am inherently against these ideas, but because all these BS platitudes are kind of a way to curtail freedom of speech and expression. While liberals will tell you that things like calling handicapped people "differently abled" is a way to have them "own" their situation, I can tell you where it actually leads. I am even willing to accept the good intentions of these PC people. But, "the path to Hell is paved in good intentions." Because what it sets up, is a certain vocabulary of "accepted speech." Because to buy into the PC term du jour, you have to buy into its foundation, which is essentially that no one should be made to feel uncomfortable or offended or insulted, ever, for any reason. Not for their race, religion, career, social status, sex, sexual orientation, physical disability, political views, etc. etc. I am not saying go out on the street and start throwing gratuitous slurs and insults towards people. But the idea that everyone should be shield from uncomfortable or confrontational speech, is basically the antithesis of freedom of expression, freedom of speech, which-- at least at one point-- were considered in this country foundational, fundamental human rights. And how far down the road of unaccepted speech will it go? At what point is "bad" speech not just calling someone the "N" word, or a "slut," a "wop," "fag," and into absurdities like, you can't call someone fat or even "big" (even if they are objectively overweight) because that word has a negative connotation. Or "short," even if it is objectively true, because that has a negative connotation? Or "poor?" You see where I am going with this? It becomes absurd, to the point where we can't express anything disagreeable at all. Which is unnatural. And turns into a situation that is a lie. Like that episode of the Twilight Zone where the whole town always has to say creepily positive things or this demon kid will kill them with ESP. People --humans-- have a range of emotions, anger and calm, love and hate, passion and collective contemplation. And to be truly free, humans need to be able to express these things (obviously, not in wildly inappropriate ways, like beating the crap out of someone or shooting them). But forgive me for being contrarian, but I do not think there is anything fundamentally wrong with given someone a good, old-fashioned, possibly insulting bitch-out, if needed. It is part of what makes us human. Deny us one half of our emotions, and we lose part of our humanity.Or what about political speech? Go too far down the road of the idea of "accepted speech" and "unaccepted speech" in politics, and, well, I hope you enjoy going to "Dear Leader" rallies and goose-stepping.

5. "Being green;" aka, OMFG CLIMATE CHANGE WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE! Quick, let's go back to living in trees. I am not one of those people who will categorically deny that climate change is happening. I also will not categorically accept it as gospel truth. Because I am not a scientist, I haven't done any tests, I haven't done the studies, I wouldn't know how to do the research. But, I feel the subject is so politicized, and everyone has some kind of ideological axe to grind, it is really hard to trust studies-- on either side, yay or nay, as objectively truthful. But, in the end, it doesn't matter. Perhaps this is more nihilist than iconoclast, but the climate is going to change eventually. Hotter or colder, it doesn't matter. It was going to happen. And if humans are contributing, we are only speeding up the inevitable. So why are we running around like chickens with our heads cut off, trying to figure out how to make our lives less enjoyable for the sake of the "environment." I don't think we should allow the planet to turn into a toxic waste dump, because I enjoy, um, breathing. But, c'mon California. Banning fireplaces? People have been burning wood for millennia. This is not the cause of our problems, such as they are. And fireplaces make life more enjoyable. I know! We should make people buy "Carbon credits" for breathing, since breathing produces greenhouse gasses. And there are almost 7 billion of us on the planet. That's a lot of CO2. And what about the animals? They all breathe. And there are a hell of a lot more of them than us. We should tax them, too. I kind of liken it to one of my other personal life philosophies: I would rather live to 70 living an enjoyable if not entirely healthy lifestyle, than live to 90 by eating leaves and exercising 4 hours a day. Life's short, life's tough, we have but a moment on this Earth, why sweat the things we cannot control, and stop denying ourselves the petty, small enjoyable things?

Well, by now I have probably upset or worried or pissed off whoever is reading this in at least one way. My apologizes. No, I am not depressed. I actually quite like bopping around this Earth; I just wish it could be more on my own terms. Perhaps I have just picked up too much philosophy in my education, and in my overly-introspective mind, have used that to turn what I see into, "all the ways by which people put themselves into boxes, either individually or collectively." If you couldn't tell, I am much more of an individualist than a collectivist.

Well, now that I have told you more of my world-view than you ever needed to know, I must retire as I have work tomorrow. A work, by the way, that I quite enjoy. I am actually having a bang-up time in NYC; I don't want to leave. This is not a screed of, "life sucks," so much as a, "how could life be better?" Didn't Socrates say something about the unexamined life?

Goodnight all, and I hope you days are filled with true choice and freedom.

One Week in New York City

So, unintended hiatus from blogging for almost a week, thanks in part to my residence building deciding to re-work the wireless connections, thereby rendering me internet-less for about three days. And then the boyfriend came and visited me over the weekend; so between all of that, I haven't had much time to just sit down and blog.

Despite my initial reservations about NYC (namely, it being dirty), I am coming to actually really like NYC-- it is basically everything I want in a city: there is always something going on, somewhere to go, something to do. If you haven't noticed, a big theme in my life is, "I don't want to be bored," and it is very hard to be bored in this city. Granted, I spend the majority of my day working during the week, but after hours and on the weekends, I really have no reason to stay inside and do nothing.

So far, I have been to Union Square and in and around Times Square, plus Central Park and Roosevelt Island. I like that New York has a lot of mini-parks and squares where one can sit for a while and just chill/people watch/hide from the heat. The first few days I was in the city were nasty-- hot and unbearably humid. Being able to sit in the shade at one of these places was a lifesaver. But, nothing beats Central Park. The last time I was (very briefly) in New York, I saw the Park from kind of a distance, and my memory of that view is hazy at best. While the boyfriend was in town, I was actually finally able to get there. And it was super cool! I had always known it was big and rather wild (in terms of just kind of letting things grow), but had no idea how pretty it was. Very lush and green-- quite the contrast from the rest of New York. And not kept up in the way that gardens and parks are generally kept in, say, France: while there is generally an organized scheme, and bits where there is grass and footpaths, a lot of the wildlife is left to just be, and grow. It does really give you the illusion of being in some kind of wilderness or countryside-type place. You will see lots of different animals (particularly birds) just chilling. There are old stone bridges that go over waterways and ponds. And yet at the same time, the park contains a zoo (which we sadly couldn't find), a mini-theme park for kids and, at least while we were there, a stage which was playing a Gavin DeGraw concert. It is quite the interesting mix of just rote nature, and planned human presence. We were only there briefly, as the sun was going down, so I will definitely have to make it back there to go to the zoo/ride the rides/take one of those old-school carriage rides through the park. My boyfriend told me that they do Shakespeare in the Park during the summer, and best yet, it is free (one of the few things in this town that are, apparently). Should definitely look into that. I also apparently got some of the grant money for the summer, so I am not a po' as I thought I was. Which is nice. Because thanks to buying set-up supplies, and a MetroCard, and doing get-to-know you social things, I probably dropped... lots of money this week already. A little piece of my Credit Card dies every time I swipe it here.

Times Square was...Times Square. I had been there before, that one time I came out here, and that is where I spent most of that day, so I remembered it pretty well. Although I had not been there yet on this trip. It is pretty much what you have seen on TV, in movies, etc. One thing I didn't remember (although I am sure it was there) from the last time, was all these random people just dressed up as random characters, for photo ops for money. I don't know what to say about that, other than it is random. I have seen people like all painted one color and doing street dances for cash before, but this is literally people who just go out and buy a Spongebob costume or something and dress up and mill around Times Square. I wonder how much money these guys make. The thing that really was weird to me about Times Square, was that while I was in one of the stores, the sun had set and it was dark out, but looking out to the people on the street, it was so light that I couldn't tell. Because of all the crazy lights in Times Square, it was so bright that it literally seemed like it was still day, even though it was 9:30 at night. I have never seen anything like that before, pretty much ever.

We also went to Roosevelt Island to go to this party hosted by a friend of my boyfriend. First, I didn't even know this Roosevelt Island existed. It is kind of strange; it is like literally an island of basically "urban" suburbia (apartment buildings and condos, but not high-denisty or hi-rises) surrounded by New York. First, it is an amazing view of the NY skyline. And it is very quite and like, way cleaner than Manhattan. The island literally has one street. Apparently it was all built up as a planned community, and it definitely looks like it: all the buildings, whether stores, condos, apartments or like, the local school, all are built in buildings that are very nice, but clearly built using the same plan. They all look very similar, and are all kind of related or attached to each other in some way. The only exception is this one church that, by the looks of it, is about 100 years old. The annoying thing about the island, is that it only has one subway stop serviced by one subway line, which thanks to construction on that line, made getting to the island ridiculous (we had to go halfway into Queens so we could get on the line going back in to Manhattan, then get off at Roosevelt island. I think we ended up going like a mile or two more East than we would otherwise had to have gone. Luckily, we did not have to actually leave the station while we were in Queens...). Otherwise, it was very pleasant, and I could see why people who like the city, but want to get away from its craziness, would choose to live there. So, never a dull moment. Which, honestly, is how I prefer things.

The coolest thing about New York, though, is the fact that you can just meander around, and randomly walk into something happening. My boyfriend and I had no idea that a Gavin DeGraw concert was happening in Central Park; we just happened to wander into it. And when we were walking around Rockefellar Center to get to Central Park, we randomly found a cool street fair, that had handmade wares and art and stuff being sold (the boyfriend even got me a cool retro pocket-watch type necklace by haggling with this lady, something I am not very good at. Haggling always feel so awkward to me. Like isn't the price of something like, what it says it is? I thought in America you could only haggle for like, cars and houses). Chicago even really doesn't operate like this; it does so more in the summer, but even still it is usually more formal things like a Taste of Chicago or the Blues Festival. I have yet to wander upon a random street fair (as opposed to a farmers market, which do randomly happen in Chicago as well as NYC). I love how here, you must expect the unexpected.

Anyway, I started my job on Tuesday, as it was Memorial Day on Monday and thus a government holiday. I have to say, for all my grousing about law school, at least so far I actually quite like it. Because unlike school, it doesn't have the daily monotony of class-homework-bed, and with a few minor exceptions, it functions like a job: when I go home at 5:30 every night, I am basically home, and don't have to think about work until the next day. Obviously this is not always true, as sometimes the lawyers stay late to prep for trial, but it is not the same as school, where even when you are home, you work has just begun. My typical day will be spending a few hours doing research, then going to observe a trial, then going to something like a witness prep. I really appreciate that the internship people have tried to organize it so that the interns aren't just doing research gophering, but actually get to see and participate in the many different parts of criminal litigation. On Friday, I got to go to a sentencing hearing. And by go to, I don't mean just sit in the public audience section. One of the attorneys I have been assigned was litigating a sentencing hearing for a guy who had convicted a couple months ago. As her intern, I got to go with her and actually sit at the prosecution table. My name was read and recorded as being in attendance and everything. Obviously, as I am not a lawyer, my role was watching and observing, but still... it was pretty sick. I think if I ultimately stick with it (which is seeming more likely, as none of the jobs I applied to have come through, and I am actually enjoying the work I do. It is such a shame that one cannot apprentice for being a lawyer any more, and that one has to be in school. I think my problems are more to do with the school part, not the actual lawyering part. It is so much more satisfying to do work that you know actually means something in the real world, and isn't just being submitted for a grade) I will definitely try to go into something in the criminal vein. I is just so...fascinating, particularly since it is so much of what you see on TV or something, now actually being played out in reality.

Anyway, that is probably enough for tonight. I do have work tomorrow. So I am going to read some Vanity Fair then hit the sack. The one thing New York hasn't been good for (aside from my wallet), is my iconoclasm. With all the fabulous things to buy, plus my discovery of Manhattan magazine, I am again falling into, "money is awesome!" mentality. Because it is. I love buying things, and so many cool, awesome, expensive things to buy. And I hate being a poor student. Seriously. I like doing my own thing, I like having fun, and I like doing things, and I like not being boring, but doing all of that costs money! Particularly after reading Manhattan, I was like, "hmmm maybe I should consider selling my soul for a few years doing transactional law for obscene amounts of money..." And then I pinched myself until the notion went away. Still, there is something to be said for not totally negating or writing off the benefits of trying to find a financially stable and lucrative job. Wouldn't it be nice if I could find a financially lucrative job that wasn't boring AND allowed me free time? Unfortunately, criminal work is usually paid for by the government, so I won't be raking in the dough any time soon. But at least it is really interesting; I won't be bored. That's got to count for something.

Actually, this all kind of reminds me of one of my favorite quotes ever, taken from The Sound of Music (even though I kind of hate that musical): "I like rich people. I like the way they live. I like the way I live when I am with them."

Concrete Jungle Where Dreams are Made

New York City. The Big Apple. That place I used to see in a lot of movies and TV shows. And now, I am here. For the next two months. This should be interesting.

I got in to the Big Apple at 6:30 AM local time, after a wonderful night flight/red eye out of SFO. My theory was, "Oh I will take the Red Eye, get like 5.5 hours of sleep, and be generally good to go." Except that I had been staying up kind of late the previous two nights, and was therefore not entirely sleepy at 10:30PM Pacific Time, when the flight took off. And then, some ASSHOLE on the plane was listening to their iPod so goddamn loud that I could hear their music through their m-f-ing headphones. I couldn't figure out who it was, or I would have bitched them the hell out right then and there. Something you should know about me: When I am tired, and want to be sleeping, and someone or something is preventing this from happening for a stupid reason, it is kind of an exercise in Dr. Jekyll and Ms. Kristin. AKA, I turn into a huge bitch. Sorry. Needless to say, I got about an hour of sleep. Maybe. At some point, it became pointless to try to sleep, so I watched 30 Rock on the plane instead. I had never seen 30 Rock before. I don't get why everyone likes it; Alec Baldwin was good, but the episode I saw was kind of stupid and not very funny. Like, it seemed like it was trying too hard to be funny, or something, and that made it not funny.

Anyway, I am currently residing on Lafayette Street, near Canal Street. My residence is at this odd juncture between Chinatown and SoHo, so it is this weird mix of super tacky/slightly sketchy/very dirty and like, at least on West Broadway, super upscale boutiques and art galleries carrying goods I probably will never be able to afford. On the plus side, I found an awesome burger joint on LaGuardia Place, a bit south of Washington Square. I can see it becoming a hangout of sorts. Plus, at least tonight, the waitstaff was super cute. And I couldn't tell if my waiter was flirting with me, or just doing good, attentive service. He fist-pumped me. Maybe it's a New York thing. I tipped him well, at least. And West Broadway is cool because there are artists on the street, selling their canvases right then and there. Some of them are quite good. Which would be awesome, if I actually had any disposable income to spend. Canal Street itself is an experience: it is basically a bunch of tourist shops selling "I Heart NY" stuff (I must admit, I did buy an "I Heart NY" keychain, so I could keep my room keys together) and a bunch of mostly Nigerian and Chinese people selling knockoff pretty much everything. If you are in need of a fake Louis Vuitton, let me know. Except not, as I will be a pseudo-officer of the court this summer (I will be interning in an office that prosecutes federal crimes), so I probably shouldn't be supporting or encouraging blatant patent infringement.

My first impression of New York was one of shock, and a little bit of disgust. Perhaps I have been spoiled by San Fran and Chicago (which, for all its other issues, is a very clean city), but New York is super dirty. Like, trash everywhere on the street, bags of trash just piled on street corners, and graffiti everywhere, particularly on those metal grate things they pull down after stores close. Some places are worse than others; Canal Street is absolutely gross in this regard, but West Broadway, Washington Square weren't so bad. And the subway. Omg. After 5 minutes in the station, I felt like I needed to shower right then and there. I try to avoid stepping in any liquid-looking things, as one can't tell if it is water or...something else. And this dirty feeling probably wasn't helped by the fact that it was like 90 degrees out today, and about 99% humidity, so I was permanently covered with a thin layer of my own dampness. Ew. But, after about a day, I got over my pristine-ness and the sometimes-grimeyness of New York doesn't bother me as much. And therefore, the city is starting to grow on me. I suppose in reality, it probably isn't much dirtier than Paris. The streets have a bit more litter on them, but the subways are about the same.

The interesting thing about New York, from my limited observations anyway, is it seems like people here are just generally more interesting, or at least have more interesting things going on compared to other places I have been. Perhaps my perspective is skewed by numerous TV shows and the fact that I arrived over a holiday weekend, but it seems like people here are always up to something, or always doing something, always seem to be engaged or going somewhere. There is a constant sense of busy and stuff happening. Even on Sunday nights. And yes, there is a bit more of an "edge" to people here. One of the first things I saw when I got to New York yesterday, was some guy dragging a cart just shove a lady out of his way because she was in his way. Nice. But, that kind of behavior has actually been in the minority. For the most part, people have either been nonchalant or actually nice. I think part of it might be positive reaction to my being polite and generally thoughtful; people seem to very positively react to my saying "please" and "thank you," moreso than in other places I have been. Maybe they aren't expecting it. Like, today I had to go to Nordstrom Rack because I noticed yesterday that a skirt my mom had bought me in December (I hadn't had an opportunity to wear it or look at it much, as it is a business skirt) still had the stupid security tag on it. I had called the Nordstrom info number, and was able to get the purchase info on the skirt to bring to the store, so I wouldn't be accused of stealing. Except that the lady at the counter didn't even question my story, and seemed surprised/appreciative that I had gone through the due diligence.

So, tomorrow starts my job. Today I did a "dry-run" to Brooklyn Heights, where I will be working, so I don't have to spent time tomorrow morning trying to find my way around as I get to work. Equals more sleep for me! The plaza with all of the state and federal buildings is pleasant; it has its own little park thing, and a lot of greenery. And it is not very hard to get too, thankfully. I did not have to make any transfers or anything. Very easy. I am so not looking forward to the subway at rush hour, during the hot an humid summer. I experienced hot, crowded, nasty subway commuting while I was studying in Paris, and I imagine it will be basically the same here, too. Ew. And I should probably bring an umbrella, because it might thunderstorm. I guess quick weather changes/surprise rain shouldn't really be a surprise to me as I have lived in the greater Ghicago area for five years, and it pretty much does the same thing. Still, one thing I have always appreciated about California, is the fact that for 5-6 months, it will pretty much reliably not rain, and we never really get humidity.

That's about it for today. Even though I have been to New York once before, it was only for a day and a half, and basically all confined to Times Square. It was such a whirlwind experience that it kind of exists as a blur in my memory, so I really feel like I am really experiencing this city for the first time. We shall see what tomorrow brings, and what this whole job thing is going to be about. Goals for tomorrow: find out where I can legally buy and register pocket mace (because as a solo lady in NYC, who will probably have to walk places after dark, if someone tries to mess with me, I want to be able to temporarily blind them. Because that is just the kind of gal I am.) and find out when, how, and how much my grant money will be getting to me, because living in New York City = burning money like its kindling (seriously, they weren't kidding about NYC prices).

SMASH

Another day, still uploading music to my mom's iTunes. Didn't know this was going to be such an epic project. And that's just the upload. Then there is the condensation of file memory so it can fit on her iPhone, then there is getting the album art, then there is making sure everything is set up and labeled right. Oy. No wonder I have been up until the wee hours several nights now. I didn't think it was possible, but she has more music than I do.

So, in my hours of fun around the computer, I have started watching online episodes of TV shows. Like, what else am I going to do? The first show I started watching was Duck Dynasty. And all I have to say is, wow. You know that old TV show, The Beverly Hillbillies? This is like a real-life version of that. Basically, it is a reality TV show about self-described rednecks living in Louisiana, who happen to be loaded. Because they made a crapton of money...manufacturing duck call whistles for hunting...yeah. Anyway, it is sort of nouveau riche taken to the extremes. A very awkward-but-hilarious blend of having a lot of money and doing the things people do when they have a lot of money (like buy wineries, except these guys don't know how to make wine or really anything about it), and your stereotypical "redneck" behavior (like trying to get fresh honey from a wild beehive. An alligator in the backyard also made an appearance). I can't really describe it as words don't do it justice; it is hilarious, but you need to watch the show to really "get" it. Also,for guys who look not-so-far removed from your average mountain men, the two brothers who run the company, Duck Commander, have like, hot wives. I guess that is what being a CEO of a successful company will do for you.

The other show that I have gotten into while doing this project, is SMASH (I am only on episode 11, so don't say what happens). I have to say, I really like it. But maybe that is just because I find it relatable. For those of you not familiar with the show, it is basically about people trying to put together a show and get it produced on Broadway. Once upon a time -- aka, high school -- I did theatre. And I hang out around a lot of theatre people, or theater groupies. So I find it to be a fairly accurate reflection of what little time I spent in and around the "scene." Ah, theater. What is the old saying? "You can take people out of high school, but you can't take high school out of people?" But, I think I am being too harsh on the theatre world. I think the big joke on all of us is, life is really high school. Whether it is backstage drama, or office politics, or whatever; we thought we graduated into a more sane, mature world. But no. Dun dun dun! Maybe that is why people end up settling down, starting families, etc.: they are trying to escape the madness. Of course, as we all know, family comes with its own share of drama. So anyway, here is my reaction to the show so far (WARNING! Some spoilers below):

1. I like Karen's character alright, she's nice enough, but I think she is really kind of flat, and remains naive. Like, I am on episode 11, and of all the characters, I think she has developed the least. She kind of just goes around in a newbie daze, and things (usually positive) just kind of...happen to her. Maybe it is because she is nice. But, it just seems a little flat. She isn't the character I end up rooting for, in the end, because you don't believe she really has anything at stake.

2. I like Ivy's character. At first you really don't, because she is a kniving bitch. But then you see why. And, at least I feel bad for her, because she kind of has a point. She's been striving and struggling in Broadway for years, and is way more "Marilyn"-esque than Karen, and I think is just as talented. But she kind of gets the shaft everywhere. So I understand and appreciate why she would play hardball. Of course, I also think Miranda Priestly (of The Devil Wears Prada fame) is a good roll model for the business world (as long as you can leave that persona at the door when you go home at night). But, I don't appreciate the direction the writers are going in. Like, turning her into Marilyn/having her life parallel Marilyn Monroe's, with the love-life drama, the pills, the crazy mother, etc. I think it feels kind of gimmicky. But what do I know?

3. Debra Messing's character: SELF CONTROL, DEBRA MESSING. HAVE SOME. Although I can't really blame her. She tried for like 3 or 4 episodes to get her old flame (with whom she had had an affair, it is revealed, five years previous to the world of this show)to back the F off, but he wouldn't take a hint, and actively pushed himself on her to reignite the old flame, even though she was very clear at the beginning that it was a bad idea and did not want to go there. By episode 11, the cat is out of the bag, and her home life and family life is in shambles, while the flame's is just fine. And he kind of just shrugs it off as, "Oh it was a mistake, I love my family, blah blah." Asshole. But it seems like everyone in the show, in some way, is attracted to someone they cannot have, often while in a relationship with someone else. In fact, some iteration of that exists for every main character. Maybe that is what the show is about, in the end: wanting what you can't have-- whether it is fame, a part, a lover. Perhaps that is ultimately the human condition. And, for the record, it sucks.

4. Uma Thurmond (aka in the show as Rebecca Duvall) as Marilyn? Really? But again, maybe that is the point. Although at the end of episode 11, she kind of has a breakthrough and stops sucking as much (once everyone gets over their star-struck, "yes-men" ways). Will be interesting to see what happens.

Also, as a side note: I wonder if my life in New York (for the next 10 weeks starting Sunday) will be this eventful and interesting? Probably not, as we have already established that my life is boring.

Speaking of wanting what you can't have, I heard from that job with which I interviewed. No go. Can't really say I am surprised. I think I may have come off as directionless once I explained why I was going to leave law school, and what I wanted to do in life. Which I guess is a fair assessment, since I am feeling rather directionless. Maybe this is another sign, as I have applied to probably 30 jobs, only got one interview, and didn't get the job. Maybe I should stop looking for signs. So, it looks as if my parents are going to get their wish by proxy, as I am not going to leave law school to work at McDonald's. I was only going to leave if I got an actual, responsible job. Incidentally, Mom took me shopping yesterday and I got several hundred dollars worth of clothes. I think it was a pretty explicit enticement for me to not leave law school. But again, as per above, she probably didn't need to do that. I do appreciate having new clothes, anyway. Although getting all of this to NY and then back to Chicago will be interesting.

That's all, folks. Back to CD uploading.

PS: I know I am late to the party on this (I am always late to the party on these things), but ADELE's album 21 is really good. I downloaded the other night, and cannot stop listening to it. Finally, someone who can sing without auto-tune!