About a week ago my brother/housemate mentioned that his friend/old roommate was coming for a visit this weekend. Now, this friend has been to visit for a weekend once before and let me say that the results of that last visit (The Weekend, Part One) did not endear me to the idea of another one ever again. Our house was a revolving door of drunk, rowdy boys that culminated in one night when no less than six of them came back to the house after the bars drunk, loud and prank calling Craigslist prostitutes WITHOUT MY BROTHER. My brother did not show up until noon the next day because, he who never meets girls, met a girl. Awesome timing bro.
So, could not have been less excited about The Weekend, Part Two until yesterday when I am suddenly struck by the realization that all I should have gotten my brother for Christmas was a big ass Dictionary because this "weekend" visit is actually from tomorrow (Tuesday) until next Monday. Wherein "weekend" = 6 days. What?
Whereupon he is so fired.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Thursday, November 13, 2008
He's not annoying, he's my brother.
Living with my brother is somewhat of a challenge. I love the kid, but he is worthless around the house. Some of what has transpired in the past week:
Me: "How about you help me clean the house and then I'll help you rake the leaves in the yard."
Him: "I was kind of planning on doing nothing today."
Me: "This house is a disaster."
Him: "Yeah, we really need a maid."
Him (upon coming in from work and seeing that I had done the dishes): "Thank God you did the dishes. They were annoying me so much last night I almost did them myself."
Me: "What are the chances of me getting you to put up some Christmas lights this year."
Him: "Zero."
The thing is, there is just something about the little shit that is so endearing. I have no idea what it is, but it totally makes you let him get away with all the crap that he pulls. I think it's a magical power or maybe just a defense mechanism he has developed so everyone he meets and or talks to doesn't murder him.
Me: "How about you help me clean the house and then I'll help you rake the leaves in the yard."
Him: "I was kind of planning on doing nothing today."
Me: "This house is a disaster."
Him: "Yeah, we really need a maid."
Him (upon coming in from work and seeing that I had done the dishes): "Thank God you did the dishes. They were annoying me so much last night I almost did them myself."
Me: "What are the chances of me getting you to put up some Christmas lights this year."
Him: "Zero."
The thing is, there is just something about the little shit that is so endearing. I have no idea what it is, but it totally makes you let him get away with all the crap that he pulls. I think it's a magical power or maybe just a defense mechanism he has developed so everyone he meets and or talks to doesn't murder him.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Now broadcasting from the side of a building.
By tomorrow my name will be on the outside of a building prominently featuring the words Law Offices. I definitely don't feel like a person who should have their name backed up by a building. I am still waiting to feel like a lawyer. I'm still waiting to find out exactly when a person makes the transition from feeling like someone trying to do a job to someone actually doing a job.
The thing is, being someone's lawyer entails a lot of responsibility that I take very seriously. You could really, really screw things up for your client if you aren't careful. I'm not especially comfortable with a learning curve that involves other people. All this is not to say that anyone should worry that my inexperience could be detrimental to clients, I would never allow that to happen and I have plenty of help from experienced attorneys to make sure that it doesn't. Basically, what I am getting at with all this is the dichotomy between care and cowardice.
At some point I have to get out there and just do it. There has to be a first everything. A first court appearance, a first deposition, a first jury and at some point I have to be comfortable with someone putting their trust in me as their attorney. They will see my name on a building and expect things from me. Putting yourself out there is hard, putting yourself out there for someone else is even harder.
The thing is, being someone's lawyer entails a lot of responsibility that I take very seriously. You could really, really screw things up for your client if you aren't careful. I'm not especially comfortable with a learning curve that involves other people. All this is not to say that anyone should worry that my inexperience could be detrimental to clients, I would never allow that to happen and I have plenty of help from experienced attorneys to make sure that it doesn't. Basically, what I am getting at with all this is the dichotomy between care and cowardice.
At some point I have to get out there and just do it. There has to be a first everything. A first court appearance, a first deposition, a first jury and at some point I have to be comfortable with someone putting their trust in me as their attorney. They will see my name on a building and expect things from me. Putting yourself out there is hard, putting yourself out there for someone else is even harder.
Thursday, November 06, 2008
The Change I Expect
We call the President the leader of our country, but have we really had a leader? A leader is someone who guides a group of like-minded individuals to accomplish some job or goal. I don't think we have had a leader in quite some time. If anything we have had an employee, an independent contractor we hired to do all the dirty work we don't want to deal with. We vote and then we point, "the problem is over there, let me know when you are finished."
The change I expect from President Obama is that I expect to be changed. I expect this president-elect to find a way to be an actual leader who inspires us to do something. The hope and change that we have been promised isn't the hope that Obama will be able to change things better than the last guy. The hope and change we have been promised is a change in the people of this country that they may be filled with the hope for a better tomorrow that they are willing to work toward.
The government of this country was founded to maintain fairness, peace, security and to give us, its people, the stability needed to work toward our own better lives. The government is the vehicle by which we the people establish this union. Just because we elect delegates to lead the union does not mean that we don't each have individual responsibilities to its upkeep.
Maybe the people of this country have been failed by their leaders, but we have also failed. Barak Obama will need our help to be the President he has promised. I hope you don't believe that your vote was a passing of the burdens of anything but leadership onto someone new. The problems of this nation have not been passed to Barak Obama, they continue to reside with us.
The change I expect from President Obama is that I expect to be changed. I expect this president-elect to find a way to be an actual leader who inspires us to do something. The hope and change that we have been promised isn't the hope that Obama will be able to change things better than the last guy. The hope and change we have been promised is a change in the people of this country that they may be filled with the hope for a better tomorrow that they are willing to work toward.
The government of this country was founded to maintain fairness, peace, security and to give us, its people, the stability needed to work toward our own better lives. The government is the vehicle by which we the people establish this union. Just because we elect delegates to lead the union does not mean that we don't each have individual responsibilities to its upkeep.
Maybe the people of this country have been failed by their leaders, but we have also failed. Barak Obama will need our help to be the President he has promised. I hope you don't believe that your vote was a passing of the burdens of anything but leadership onto someone new. The problems of this nation have not been passed to Barak Obama, they continue to reside with us.
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
I voted. (Or he did.)
I'm not at all disturbed by the fact that the woman beside me voting today was talking to her husband on her cell phone because she couldn't remember how she was "supposed" to vote. She couldn't remember who she was supposed to vote for in this race or how she was supposed to vote on this proposition so clearly she had to clarify her voting instructions with the vote determiner in her household. I'm not at all disturbed by the fact that this woman was apparently given the right to vote so that her husband could vote twice.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Confession: I don't like Halloween.
I don't like Halloween and I don't know why. I love scary movies, I love magic, I love witches and zombies and monsters, but I don't like Halloween as a holiday. I guess I need my holidays with a little meaning behind them. Halloween doesn't have the normal holiday meaning. No freedom from British tyranny and religious persecution, no sharing of the first meal with the natives of a new land, no birth of a savior.
I've sort of gotten roped into attending a costume party this year and, surprise, I don't really like dressing up in costumes. This is the Diddy's Black and White Party of costume parties though, you must come in costume (Incidentally, what are we calling Sean Combs these days anyway?) So, I'm going to be a trucker. This is primarily because I got it in my head that the costume I would be most happy to wear would consist of a wife beater, flannel shirt and jeans. Add a trucker hat and a can of Skoal and you have a trucker. I know it's not the most creative thing ever and that, in fact, it is rather lame and possibly offensive to actual truck drivers. Also, no one will know what I am. However, I purchased a flannel shirt at Wal-Mart last night and there is no turning back now.
I've sort of gotten roped into attending a costume party this year and, surprise, I don't really like dressing up in costumes. This is the Diddy's Black and White Party of costume parties though, you must come in costume (Incidentally, what are we calling Sean Combs these days anyway?) So, I'm going to be a trucker. This is primarily because I got it in my head that the costume I would be most happy to wear would consist of a wife beater, flannel shirt and jeans. Add a trucker hat and a can of Skoal and you have a trucker. I know it's not the most creative thing ever and that, in fact, it is rather lame and possibly offensive to actual truck drivers. Also, no one will know what I am. However, I purchased a flannel shirt at Wal-Mart last night and there is no turning back now.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Girl Friday v. The Garage Door
When you push the button to close the garage door it goes all the way down and then all the way up again. Over and over. Actually, there is this sadistic little pause in between where you think it might stay down after all, but it doesn't.
So then, you stretch way up on your tippy-toes and pull the little red string to disengage the electric opener and close it manually. A little old-fashioned, but doable. Wow it's super easy to pull down, yay. Wait crap, how do you lock it so someone can't get in the garage and steal all your stuff now? Oh wait, there's a little lever thing? Awesome! What? The lever is screwed in place with some weird flat headed screw that you don't have a tool for and is stuck anyway? No problem, just pull that little red string back the other way and lock it it into place. You can't reach the string anymore in its new position? Never fear, look a trusty umbrella. Stretch way up, yup that outta do it.
But whoops, at some point you have to leave again. That door is so easy to put up and down that it won't stay all the way up, instead it comes down little, by little, by little throughout the course of about 10 seconds. How are you supposed to get your car out of that? Well, just push it up and then run over real quick and pull that little red string the other way to lock it in place. What? The red string is hanging directly over the middle of your car now and you can't reach it? Well get yourself that trusty umbella again and open up your back car door; now run to the gargage door, push it all the way up, run back to the car, grab that umbrella, stand on the back seat, stretch waaay over the car, push the lock into place with the umbrella. Viola! Wait, how do you close it again?
So then, you stretch way up on your tippy-toes and pull the little red string to disengage the electric opener and close it manually. A little old-fashioned, but doable. Wow it's super easy to pull down, yay. Wait crap, how do you lock it so someone can't get in the garage and steal all your stuff now? Oh wait, there's a little lever thing? Awesome! What? The lever is screwed in place with some weird flat headed screw that you don't have a tool for and is stuck anyway? No problem, just pull that little red string back the other way and lock it it into place. You can't reach the string anymore in its new position? Never fear, look a trusty umbrella. Stretch way up, yup that outta do it.
But whoops, at some point you have to leave again. That door is so easy to put up and down that it won't stay all the way up, instead it comes down little, by little, by little throughout the course of about 10 seconds. How are you supposed to get your car out of that? Well, just push it up and then run over real quick and pull that little red string the other way to lock it in place. What? The red string is hanging directly over the middle of your car now and you can't reach it? Well get yourself that trusty umbella again and open up your back car door; now run to the gargage door, push it all the way up, run back to the car, grab that umbrella, stand on the back seat, stretch waaay over the car, push the lock into place with the umbrella. Viola! Wait, how do you close it again?
Write to Marry Day: First they came for the gays.
If you think the gay marriage issue doesn't affect you,
Martin Niemoller said it best:
When the Nazis came for the communists,
I remained silent;
I was not a communist.
When they locked up the social democrats,
I remained silent;
I was not a social democrat.
When they came for the trade unionists,
I did not speak out;
I was not a trade unionist.
When they came for the Jews,
I remained silent;
I was not a Jew.
When they came for me,
there was no one left to speak out.
This is not a moral issue. This is not a social issue. This is a CIVIL RIGHTS issue. I'm not gay, hell I don't even live in California, but I'm not going to remain silent while they come for someone else.
Monday, October 27, 2008
If you must, take this as my solemn vow that I will never blog about anything serious again.
Before we begin, a note: I totally did not know if I spelled solemn right in the title, and I did not believe blogger when it told me I did so I went to Word and when it also said it was spelled right I still didn't believe it so I totally checked the Thesaurus to make sure it was the right word after all. However, I am not at all concerned with that horrible run on sentence.
So, this may sound slightly selfish but I would totally be willing to give up Will Smith's existence if they would just stop showing re-runs of The Fresh Prince of Bel Air.
One thing that annoys me more than The Fresh Prince of Bel Air is that lately every person that I run into that I haven't seen for a few years keeps telling me I haven't changed AT ALL. Don't get me wrong, I don't care that I haven't changed, but what they really mean is that I am still blunt and sarcastic. Which, again, I don't care, but WHY are they saying this. What do I do that prompts people to go, "Oops, still a bitch."
Sometimes I say something that prompts my nearest friend's eyes to pop wide open in disbelief and I'm like, "WHAT DID I SAY?" I mean, what kind of world do we live in that people are so blatantly shocked at a little damn honesty? Here's a recent example:
Setting: a friend of a friend's party for a friend's fiance. (heh)
Amenities: a pony keg, cheese ball and some brownies.
Status: not nearly drunk enough to be having fun.
Friend: So, what is [your brother] doing tonight?
Me: Probably something more fun than this.
Everyone in the room: *crickets*
I mean really. The host and hostess weren't in the room. I don't think I'm destined to be understood in my time.
So, this may sound slightly selfish but I would totally be willing to give up Will Smith's existence if they would just stop showing re-runs of The Fresh Prince of Bel Air.
One thing that annoys me more than The Fresh Prince of Bel Air is that lately every person that I run into that I haven't seen for a few years keeps telling me I haven't changed AT ALL. Don't get me wrong, I don't care that I haven't changed, but what they really mean is that I am still blunt and sarcastic. Which, again, I don't care, but WHY are they saying this. What do I do that prompts people to go, "Oops, still a bitch."
Sometimes I say something that prompts my nearest friend's eyes to pop wide open in disbelief and I'm like, "WHAT DID I SAY?" I mean, what kind of world do we live in that people are so blatantly shocked at a little damn honesty? Here's a recent example:
Setting: a friend of a friend's party for a friend's fiance. (heh)
Amenities: a pony keg, cheese ball and some brownies.
Status: not nearly drunk enough to be having fun.
Friend: So, what is
Me: Probably something more fun than this.
Everyone in the room: *crickets*
I mean really. The host and hostess weren't in the room. I don't think I'm destined to be understood in my time.
10 Things to do before you turn 18
The following is based on my own experience or lack thereof:
1. Get in HUGE trouble that was totally worth it.
2. Be a make-out slut.
3. Make sure that at some point your parents hate your clothes, hair color, make-up and the number of body piercings you have.
4. Eat dinner with your family every night possible.
5. Do everything you are invited to do except anything destined to get you arrested, pregnant, infected with an STD or seriously injured.
6. Spend money on things you want but don't need.
7. Wear clothing, make-up and jewelry you aren't quite sure you can't pull off.
8. Sleep embarrassingly late.
9. Learn to ignore the words "normal" and "perfect."
10. Waste time.
1. Get in HUGE trouble that was totally worth it.
2. Be a make-out slut.
3. Make sure that at some point your parents hate your clothes, hair color, make-up and the number of body piercings you have.
4. Eat dinner with your family every night possible.
5. Do everything you are invited to do except anything destined to get you arrested, pregnant, infected with an STD or seriously injured.
6. Spend money on things you want but don't need.
7. Wear clothing, make-up and jewelry you aren't quite sure you can't pull off.
8. Sleep embarrassingly late.
9. Learn to ignore the words "normal" and "perfect."
10. Waste time.
Monday, January 21, 2008
"You know, it's wierd how you still love the person, you just stop needing them the way you used to."
The above is a line from the much loved (by me) television show Dawson's Creek. Why am I so lame? Mostly because that quote has come to describe the way that I feel about this blog. I love you, but I don't need you anymore. When I first moved to a new city and started law school this blog was a way to get some feelings out and feel like I was connecting with someone out there. But now, in my last semester of law school, I just don't need this blog anymore. Which, trust me, is a very good thing.
That is why it has been a long time since I've written, and why it may be a long time before I write again.
That is why it has been a long time since I've written, and why it may be a long time before I write again.
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