I have this file on my computer entitled thoughts - it's basically my journal from the last couple years. I think it's pushing 30 some odd pages. However in the last couple months, I have decided to join the narcissistic, lonely existence of blogging. Sorry if that's offensive.... I too think it's just a good way of communicating, but my cynical half of my personality thinks that it is just (personally) a cry for someone to acknowledge my existence - think Ani Difranco "Someone must care, for I am here and I am real" (or something like that because I'm too lazy to look up the exact words).
Anyway, these are my thoughts as I sit here, mentally exhausted, wanting to just bawl for the sake of crying my eyes out because I'm tired, and thinking about how much I hate law school. See, here's the thing. Law students bitch and moan about law school because a. it's our personality - we complain about everything, b. it's hard, really f-ing hard, c. We are tired of studying when half the time it feels pointless because this is just a rite of passage and half the time we feel like it's not doing us any good and we aren't learning anything useful anyway. Yet, we stay.... because we know that yes, it is a rite of passage and those two letters of the alphabet that we will soon get to put behind our names are worth it - because of the power it will give us, the money it will give us, the influence it will give us.
Law school exams are a big part of this angst. Our entire grade (for the most part) depends on it. And yet, we are told, don't worry, grades don't really matter. Um, excuse me? you are putting me through hell because it doesn't matter?
Our professors do their best to teach us a subject and for the most part, I think they really want us to learn it and understand it, but when it comes to exams.... they write them so that we can't do well on them. Well, some of my classmates can... I can't. Because at the end of the day, I have to choose.... sit in the library and read and outline and wrestle and study (and most likely consequently lose my mind) or do my best to live a balanced, healthy existence. hmmm, should that really be a choice I have to make? I should have outlined this post... I have a feeling it's not going to make sense.
I'm not really sure what I'm trying to say.... I think what we don't want to admit, what they don't want to tell us, is this. To work in the law, you have to be a certain kind of person - able to turn on and off this sense of apathy and your sense of caring. You have to be able to empathize, but able to turn it off so that the bastards of the world don't get you down. You have to be prepared to second guess what everyone says to you, because you will be lied to by your clients, because you are the one who can get them out of the jam they are in and they want so badly to be right and have their opponent be the dirty bastard who is screwing them over.... but there is two sides to every story. To be this person you have to be somewhat hardened. That, I think, is what law school is really about. To prepare us to walk into a brutal profession where the depravity of man slaps us in the face on a regular basis. The problem is, state schools don't believe in the depravity of man. They have to prepare you for the depravity of man without being able to admit that it exists or to be able to explain how it exists when people are "basically good." So, they make us feel completely f-d over on a regular basis.... that's how you get used to it.
Work your tail off, because that's what it takes to keep ahead, even if you work as hard as you can and still end up slipping backwards. Focus! learn to use whatver method you can to win, because that is what you will eat off of. Winning, so you can get paid.
Law school forces us to come to terms with ourselves. Our bad habits- all those ones I was ok with, not good enough anymore. Who will you choose to be?
I can't survive law school without being inexplicably stubborn and persistent. I can't survive law school without believing that at some point, everyone,my professors, my fellow students, are choosing their own self interest above my better good and will most likely deceive me, intentionally or unintentionally, at some point - because that is what it takes to survive in this world.
In my world, this is an example of the depravity of man and this is a result of the fall of man and this is why Christ came to earth (symbolized poorly by our Christmas celebrations) and took upon himself our depravity so that he would be punished and we could be saved. Wow. It gives me comfort... God is good, man is not, and that's ok, because God took care of it and takes care of us. Thanks. It's ok that I can't be focused and disciplined and as a result I am a less than mediocre student. God loves me and he will give me strength to keep trying and to keep learning and keep loving my fellow students as best as I can. Hmmmm. so, do what you can law school! It just affirms my belief in the depravity of man and the sovereignty of God. that can't be all bad.
This is what law school is teaching me. Love God, Love your neighbor, Do justice - Be persistent in this, no matter who F-s you over, no matter how poorly you feel that you are doing it - keep going! Someday, it will all make sense.
My chiropractor told me yesterday (while popping my aching back into some semblance of normalcy) that smart people don't graduate - stubborn people do (she said persistent, but I like stubborn better).
This is why I am going to my exam tomorrow instead of just sleeping. Because I have to keep going.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Sunday, December 14, 2008
who I am - who we are
I just read this article: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/28216005/page/2/ - you should too!
It's about Obama defining himself as black. Honestly, this has irritated me a little. I understand what a big step this is for us as a nation to have a president that is not white, but I don't get why the black comomunity has grasped on to him so strongly. In my mind, how you define yourself has a lot to do not only with what is in your genes, but also with how you grew up - they both contribute. Obama was raised by a white single mother and his white grandparents in a wide variety of situations, but is that typical among the black community? can they really relate to him? I love that we have a bi-racial president who has half siblings spread across several continents and who was raised in a non-traditional family. I think he more accurately reflects who we are as a nation. Gone are the days of the traditional family and traditional upbringings (if they ever truly existed). And, I am glad we have a president who reflects that. But I just don't think it's fair, to anyone, much less the black community, to hold him up as the first black president. Lets say he's the first multiracial president. I think making a big issue of his race demeans the black community. Wouldn't it be better to have a black president who more accurately reflects the black community? ..... What do I know, I'm a white kid from the red half of a blue state. It does bring up interesting questions in my mind about identity and what role culture plays in that. I spent some time on the reservation recently. The leaders in that community are trying to strengthen the cultural identity of the youth - to give them a basis from which to build some pride in themselves and in their community. But.... so many of us have lost that. Is our cultural identity important anymore? What are we losing as we lose it? I don't know much of anything about being Irish, Scottish, Swedish, French, maybe German, Welsh, and whatever else is flowing through my veins... should I? much of my biological family have close connections to their Irish - Catholic roots. It seems it provides a basis for community, for identity, a reason to connect as people. ARe we losing our reasons to connect? That is important. That is how we see God - in our connections with others. God split us into nations at the tower of Babel so that we would fill the earth. Well, I think we've done pretty well in that aspect. Maybe it's time to re-unify. What does God say about cultural divisions? off the top of my head, it seems that he seeks to unify humanity through Christ. What does that mean for how we think about our heritage and culture? What do you think? about cultural identity and it's importance in who we are as individuals, as families, as a nation...
It's about Obama defining himself as black. Honestly, this has irritated me a little. I understand what a big step this is for us as a nation to have a president that is not white, but I don't get why the black comomunity has grasped on to him so strongly. In my mind, how you define yourself has a lot to do not only with what is in your genes, but also with how you grew up - they both contribute. Obama was raised by a white single mother and his white grandparents in a wide variety of situations, but is that typical among the black community? can they really relate to him? I love that we have a bi-racial president who has half siblings spread across several continents and who was raised in a non-traditional family. I think he more accurately reflects who we are as a nation. Gone are the days of the traditional family and traditional upbringings (if they ever truly existed). And, I am glad we have a president who reflects that. But I just don't think it's fair, to anyone, much less the black community, to hold him up as the first black president. Lets say he's the first multiracial president. I think making a big issue of his race demeans the black community. Wouldn't it be better to have a black president who more accurately reflects the black community? ..... What do I know, I'm a white kid from the red half of a blue state. It does bring up interesting questions in my mind about identity and what role culture plays in that. I spent some time on the reservation recently. The leaders in that community are trying to strengthen the cultural identity of the youth - to give them a basis from which to build some pride in themselves and in their community. But.... so many of us have lost that. Is our cultural identity important anymore? What are we losing as we lose it? I don't know much of anything about being Irish, Scottish, Swedish, French, maybe German, Welsh, and whatever else is flowing through my veins... should I? much of my biological family have close connections to their Irish - Catholic roots. It seems it provides a basis for community, for identity, a reason to connect as people. ARe we losing our reasons to connect? That is important. That is how we see God - in our connections with others. God split us into nations at the tower of Babel so that we would fill the earth. Well, I think we've done pretty well in that aspect. Maybe it's time to re-unify. What does God say about cultural divisions? off the top of my head, it seems that he seeks to unify humanity through Christ. What does that mean for how we think about our heritage and culture? What do you think? about cultural identity and it's importance in who we are as individuals, as families, as a nation...
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Sounds of the Night
I intended to write a ghost story about the strange bumps in the night that occur in the law school, but Thanksgiving break provided me with alternate inspiration.
My parents got a new dog about a year ago. She's a happy, sweet, stupid yellow Lab. Don't get me wrong, I love labs and think they are incredibly smart, typically, and protective, regardless of what you've heard. What I didn't know is that they snore.
My brother built a doghouse when he was a teenager, I must have only been 6 or 7. This is the mother of doghouses. It has a floor, it is huge, too heavy for one strong man to move on his own. It has a shingled roof - this thing is intense. And, it is up against the exterior wall of the house in the carport. That exterior wall happens to be one wall of my bedroom. I didn't move into that room until after my junior year of college, but now it's my bedroom.
At any rate. One night, I don't remember when… ( I haven't been here much in the last year - the whole, growing up thing, law school thing, separating from my parents thing being much in the way). I was laying in bed, so thankful to be resting and not have to worry about school. I was almost asleep and I hear this deep rumbling sound. I was instantly wide awake. What was that? Was it dangerous? Was I safe? (did I mention I'm a little scared of what's in the dark - not the dark itself, but whatever it's hiding) I tend to have weird nightmares when I'm home, so I thought maybe that was it, but no, I was wide awake. Not to mention that I can be unreasonably paranoid sometimes.
Ok, what could it be? An earthquake? Maybe someone driving slow up the county road - are they parked outside? Are they going to harass us? (it's happened before, could happen again) It sounded like something moving something heavy. Is it a bear? Raccoons? What is that sound!
It was very rhythmic, not constant…. This deep steady rumbling.
It sounded like snoring. But, even my dad doesn't snore that loud. Not to mention that his bedroom is at the other side of the house. So, still, what could it be.
Then it stopped.
Simultaneously, I heard the chink and clinking of Ellie's chain on the entrance to the doghouse. Is it possible?
My final determination is that my dad's dog takes after him and snores. My theory is that she snores somehow against the wall of her doghouse which transfers into the external wall of the house and therefore resonating in my bedroom.
I never could understand why women would get so annoyed with their husband's snoring. Now I understand. There is something about that sound that is grating and irritating at a deep, deep level.
It still sends thrills and chills through my heart, it's a very unnerving sound. Then I just get annoyed that the dog is sleeping so soundly when I'm awake. She's supposed to be awake, protecting us, right? No. She's snoring peacefully in her doghouse, while I lay in bed wondering what manner of assailants are organizing themselves against my house. Bother.
A year later, she still snores. Just as rythmically, just as loudly. And I lay in bed and listen.
My parents got a new dog about a year ago. She's a happy, sweet, stupid yellow Lab. Don't get me wrong, I love labs and think they are incredibly smart, typically, and protective, regardless of what you've heard. What I didn't know is that they snore.
My brother built a doghouse when he was a teenager, I must have only been 6 or 7. This is the mother of doghouses. It has a floor, it is huge, too heavy for one strong man to move on his own. It has a shingled roof - this thing is intense. And, it is up against the exterior wall of the house in the carport. That exterior wall happens to be one wall of my bedroom. I didn't move into that room until after my junior year of college, but now it's my bedroom.
At any rate. One night, I don't remember when… ( I haven't been here much in the last year - the whole, growing up thing, law school thing, separating from my parents thing being much in the way). I was laying in bed, so thankful to be resting and not have to worry about school. I was almost asleep and I hear this deep rumbling sound. I was instantly wide awake. What was that? Was it dangerous? Was I safe? (did I mention I'm a little scared of what's in the dark - not the dark itself, but whatever it's hiding) I tend to have weird nightmares when I'm home, so I thought maybe that was it, but no, I was wide awake. Not to mention that I can be unreasonably paranoid sometimes.
Ok, what could it be? An earthquake? Maybe someone driving slow up the county road - are they parked outside? Are they going to harass us? (it's happened before, could happen again) It sounded like something moving something heavy. Is it a bear? Raccoons? What is that sound!
It was very rhythmic, not constant…. This deep steady rumbling.
It sounded like snoring. But, even my dad doesn't snore that loud. Not to mention that his bedroom is at the other side of the house. So, still, what could it be.
Then it stopped.
Simultaneously, I heard the chink and clinking of Ellie's chain on the entrance to the doghouse. Is it possible?
My final determination is that my dad's dog takes after him and snores. My theory is that she snores somehow against the wall of her doghouse which transfers into the external wall of the house and therefore resonating in my bedroom.
I never could understand why women would get so annoyed with their husband's snoring. Now I understand. There is something about that sound that is grating and irritating at a deep, deep level.
It still sends thrills and chills through my heart, it's a very unnerving sound. Then I just get annoyed that the dog is sleeping so soundly when I'm awake. She's supposed to be awake, protecting us, right? No. She's snoring peacefully in her doghouse, while I lay in bed wondering what manner of assailants are organizing themselves against my house. Bother.
A year later, she still snores. Just as rythmically, just as loudly. And I lay in bed and listen.
Friday, November 21, 2008
random
When I was doing tax homework the other night, I saw that you get a tax credit for adopting a kid from a foreign country. So, I sent my cousin (who just got a little girl from China) a quick email (like at 2 am): hey, you get a tax credit!
Then my mom was like, did you know your cousin is filing paperwork to get another baby from China?
Huh.
Then my mom was like, did you know your cousin is filing paperwork to get another baby from China?
Huh.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
more stuff
O, in-sink-er-at-or, who gives us life,
Thou who providest the heat and water
That sustaineth this existence of ours,
Thy usefulness extends to our breakfast
Such as cream of wheat and instant oatmeal,
Graciously giving us strength to last the day.
When the luncheon hour chimes its gleeful sound,
We rush to you with our top ramen,
cups o’noodles, and dehydrated soups,
Hunger-inflicted multitudes flocking thence,
And leaving your shiny sink in blissful hope.
As the sun lowers in the sky, the need
Arises for a caffeinated boost
Or a warm cup of some comforting drink.
Tea, herbal or black, instant coffee shots
Hot Chocolate, or even simple water,
Thou providest these kindly without fail.
Even the rare dessert, gelatinous,
Flavored with fruit, jiggly, wiggly, when chilled
Will find its advent with thy progeny.
The unbelievers stay with their hot pots,
The unknowing content themselves with dry foods,
But we, the true believers, the faithful
Will continue to come into thy presence
To fulfill our most basic needs
To pursue nutrition and satisfaction
Flowing forth from thy spout
“twist right for nearly boiling water”
Whether we pay or are paid to come
To this place of education of law
To feed our ever growing need for thought
We approach you with naught but adoration
For thy abundance of nearly boiling fluid.
Ten things that keep your sanity while in law school:
1. Good friends who feed you
2. Martini Thursday at the Garden
3. Flag Football or some other sort of organized activity
4. The library being open 24 hours, but don’t get a parking ticket!
5. Finding a good study group who you won’t mind crying in front of because you probably will.
6. Free food at varying club events
7. Coffee shops that stay open until midnight
8. Delivery subway, pizza, etc.
9. Free music from Ruckus!
10. The insinkerator!
Thou who providest the heat and water
That sustaineth this existence of ours,
Thy usefulness extends to our breakfast
Such as cream of wheat and instant oatmeal,
Graciously giving us strength to last the day.
When the luncheon hour chimes its gleeful sound,
We rush to you with our top ramen,
cups o’noodles, and dehydrated soups,
Hunger-inflicted multitudes flocking thence,
And leaving your shiny sink in blissful hope.
As the sun lowers in the sky, the need
Arises for a caffeinated boost
Or a warm cup of some comforting drink.
Tea, herbal or black, instant coffee shots
Hot Chocolate, or even simple water,
Thou providest these kindly without fail.
Even the rare dessert, gelatinous,
Flavored with fruit, jiggly, wiggly, when chilled
Will find its advent with thy progeny.
The unbelievers stay with their hot pots,
The unknowing content themselves with dry foods,
But we, the true believers, the faithful
Will continue to come into thy presence
To fulfill our most basic needs
To pursue nutrition and satisfaction
Flowing forth from thy spout
“twist right for nearly boiling water”
Whether we pay or are paid to come
To this place of education of law
To feed our ever growing need for thought
We approach you with naught but adoration
For thy abundance of nearly boiling fluid.
Ten things that keep your sanity while in law school:
1. Good friends who feed you
2. Martini Thursday at the Garden
3. Flag Football or some other sort of organized activity
4. The library being open 24 hours, but don’t get a parking ticket!
5. Finding a good study group who you won’t mind crying in front of because you probably will.
6. Free food at varying club events
7. Coffee shops that stay open until midnight
8. Delivery subway, pizza, etc.
9. Free music from Ruckus!
10. The insinkerator!
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Apathy
I am apathetic (no big surprise - that's not the revelation)
so, I'm sitting here, reading cases and wondering why I am apathetic - why I don't care about writing this damn paper. The deadline is looming and I still can't care enough to actually write the damn paper.
My theory is that I don't care, because I don't have any hope that even if I do write the paper, that I will get a decent grade on it.
My apathy is the result of hopelessness. Hopelessness that even if I do try, it won't do me any good.
So, the next question is, where do I find hope? Hope, that maybe, someday, I will be good at this shit. That is the question.
so, I'm sitting here, reading cases and wondering why I am apathetic - why I don't care about writing this damn paper. The deadline is looming and I still can't care enough to actually write the damn paper.
My theory is that I don't care, because I don't have any hope that even if I do write the paper, that I will get a decent grade on it.
My apathy is the result of hopelessness. Hopelessness that even if I do try, it won't do me any good.
So, the next question is, where do I find hope? Hope, that maybe, someday, I will be good at this shit. That is the question.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
So, I had a huge crush on him when I was 17. By my freshman year of college we were quasi- boyfriend/girlfriend, but no one knew about it for various reasons. Then he gave my ring back and said it wasn't right. Then I continued with a disastrous relationship. Then he got into some deep shit. When he came out of is shit, I was out of my relationship. We had a conversation where he said we would never work out, but he then backtracked and said that he hadn't seen a lot of those things in me that he couldn't live wth lately. Somehow I missed the whole, we won't work out, ever, part and held on to the I haven't seen that in you lately part. So, I was conflicted and wrestling and struggling for a year. I just wanted a chance. Our friendship became my chance. I realized this summer that we really wouldn't ever work out. I realized about a month ago that I was carrying a lot of residual hate towards him for the last seven years tht I have spent waiting and loving and agonizing. I forgave him and quit treating him so badly. I know I say a lot of things about him and how I feel, but tonight he realized that I haven't been sure about how he felt for a really long time. He thought he had made it clear about a year ago- well, you know how dense I am when it comes to being rejected. So, now I know, Never means Never and he and I will never be anymore than friends. Which is fine, I'd kill him otherwise, but it's like when Gramps died (after fighting cancer for 8 years)- I'd been grieving for years, but I had to wait for the actual fact that it happened, the actual fact that I knew beyond a doubt that he wasn't interested, to truly let go and grieve. Now, oddly, I realize, he has been a really good friend to me. Just to be a friend. I am ashamed of my idiocy, of my blindness, of my hatred, of how poorly I have treated him. I am relieved most of all, mixed with some shame, some regret, and some general feelings of "I am such an idiot!"
The end of an era the turning of a page. So many of those things that have occupied my mind and heart over the last 25 years have been resolved and healed within the last year plus a few months. If I could only be in contact with my father before November 5, it would be perfect. So... I just wanted you to know. I have the privilege of turning 25 with a truly open heart. Odd.
The end of an era the turning of a page. So many of those things that have occupied my mind and heart over the last 25 years have been resolved and healed within the last year plus a few months. If I could only be in contact with my father before November 5, it would be perfect. So... I just wanted you to know. I have the privilege of turning 25 with a truly open heart. Odd.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Family, Society and the lies we believe
I don't understand"family." My heart is full and the concept is weighing on my mind. I'm still struggling with this idea of family. The more of my biological family that i meet, the more that these assumptions I have been operating under are being challenged. Assumptions like, biology isn't that important - it's about who takes care of you and who you can depend on that matters. Much to my shock and surprise, I have some very distinct emotional connections to my biological family now that they have been brought to my conscious attention. What does that mean? My great grandpa was an attorney, my great aunt is an attorney, I have two cousins who are attorneys, and one of my bio mom's dreams has always been to go to law school. My chosen career path is an aberration in the family that raised me and yet, it is perfectly normal in the family that I share genetic material with. It honestly blows my freakin mind. It was always just about my unknown mother. Who she was, where she was. I had a family, I didn't need another one. But now, I meet this huge family of fabulous people... find out they have been thinking of me and praying for me all along. To them, it's almost like, I've come home. I was gone and now I'm back. What does that mean for me? what does that mean for the richartz/matlock families who have always treated me as one of their own. I am trying my best to just open my arms and my mind and be like woo hoo - 100 more family memebers!!! but I am nonetheless conflicted (big surprise). I have been experienceing this deep emotional connection with people that I've never felt before. meeting my aunts this summer and then spending time with them a couple weeks ago, it's like deep deep down we are linked - inextricably, unexplainably linked. I never knew you could have that kind of a connection. Is that what I've been missing all these years? and then it makes me angry. That's not fair! the matlock richartz family took care of me and did everything they could. Why couldn't I just have that connection with them? I think people who adopt do so with the intention of just taking a child and raising it as their own regardless of former ties. that day 25 years ago when my parents signed those papers, I left their families forever.... but did I? apparently not, to them. To my bio mom's family, I was one of their own.... lost, misplaced.... but still one of their own, hopefully to return someday. How do I reconcile these things? I'm angry because I feel like we've all been lied to. and I don't know how or where to find the truth anymore. what about my kids (God willing, I have some someday) in genealogies in 50 years, where will they be listed? where will I be listed? in both? to confuse some poor genealogist? is this the same person in these two separate families? I feel like everyone believes this lie that genetics, biology doesn't matter. We can buy and sell and trade children, because it only matters where they grow up and who raised them. ITS NOT TRUE! It's a damned lie. i'm not complaining- I am so thankful for more and more family. I'm thankful I can know them.... but I'm angry with society - angry that we don't take having children more seriously. Angry that we don't take our biology more seriously. Angry that we have divorced our minds and our emotions and our bodies. Nope, sorry, they are all linked - hate to tell you. What if we as a society had a more holistic approach to having children? to seeing them as part of us, not just their noses and their fingers, but their career choices and personality quirks? I don't even know how the world would be different. God is a covenantal God, from what I've been taught. He carries blessings and curses through families. we never think that means through genetic families, but it does! Really! What does that mean for us?
Don't get me wrong. I believe adoption is wonderful. I am so grateful for what I was given. I hope that I have been a blessing and I know that God works in mysterious ways and who knows what he is doing? I just think that maybe we need to, as a society, change the way we view children, families, procreation.....
I don't know who even knows this blog exists or if anyone reads it. If anyone in any of my families reads this - please don't be offended or hurt or feel negative emotions as a result! I love you and always will, regardless of my deep inner anger, frustrations, and wanderings of my mind. because, at the end of the day, my definition of family is not resigned to biology or legality, but it's about the people who I love and who love me - who I will take care of and who will take care of me - that's all that really matters.
Don't get me wrong. I believe adoption is wonderful. I am so grateful for what I was given. I hope that I have been a blessing and I know that God works in mysterious ways and who knows what he is doing? I just think that maybe we need to, as a society, change the way we view children, families, procreation.....
I don't know who even knows this blog exists or if anyone reads it. If anyone in any of my families reads this - please don't be offended or hurt or feel negative emotions as a result! I love you and always will, regardless of my deep inner anger, frustrations, and wanderings of my mind. because, at the end of the day, my definition of family is not resigned to biology or legality, but it's about the people who I love and who love me - who I will take care of and who will take care of me - that's all that really matters.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
an article
So... is it an insult or a compliment? cause it's really accurate to my friends and family, but I'm a thinking person - I'm not worried.... should I be?
Page last updated at 09:39 GMT, Saturday, 6 September 2008 10:39 UK
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Why rednecks may rule the world
By Joe Bageant Author of Deerhunting With Jesus During this US election cycle we are hearing a lot from the pundits and candidates about "heartland voters," and "white working class voters."
What they are talking about are rednecks. But in their political correctness, media types cannot bring themselves to utter the word "redneck." So I'll say it for them: redneck-redneck-redneck-redneck.
Like a Texas cowboy - delegates hang on every word
The fact is that we American rednecks embrace the term in a sort of proud defiance. To us, the term redneck indicates a culture we were born in and enjoy. So I find it very interesting that politically correct people have taken it upon themselves to protect us from what has come to be one of our own warm and light hearted terms for one another.
On the other hand, I can quite imagine their concern, given what's at stake in the upcoming election. We represent at least a third of all voters and no US president has ever been elected without our support.
Consequently, rednecks have never had so many friends or so much attention as in 2008. Contrary to the stereotype, we are not all tobacco chewing, guffawing Southerners, but are scattered from coast to coast. Over 50% of us live in the "cultural south", which is to say places with white Southern Scots-Irish values - redneck values.
We fry things nobody ever considered friable - things like cupcakes, banana sandwiches and batter dipped artificial cheese…even pickles
They include western Pennsylvania, central Missouri and southern Illinois, upstate Michigan and Minnesota, eastern Connecticut, northern New Hampshire…
So when you look at what pundits call the red state heartland, you are looking at the Republic of Redneckia.
As to having our delicate beer-sodden feelings protected from the term redneck; well, I appreciate the effort, though I highly suspect that the best way to hide snobbishness is to pose as protector of any class of folks you cannot bear. Thus we are being protected by the very people who look down on us - educated urban progressives.
And let's face it, there's plenty to look down on. By any tasteful standard, we ain't a pretty people.
Uppity and slick? Not us...
We come in one size: extra large. We are sometimes insolent and often quick to fight. We love competitive spectacle such as NASCAR and paintball, and believe gun ownership is the eleventh commandment.
We fry things nobody ever considered friable - things like cupcakes, banana sandwiches and batter dipped artificial cheese…even pickles.
Her daughter had a baby out of wedlock? Big deal. What family has not?
And most of all we are defiant and suspicious of authority, and people who are "uppity" (sophisticated) and "slick" (people who use words with more than three syllables). Two should be enough for anybody.
And that is one of the reasons that, mystifying as it is to the outside world, John McCain's choice of the moose-shooting Alaskan woman with the pregnant unmarried teen daughter appeals to many redneck and working class Americans.
We all understand that there is a political class which dominates in America, and that Sarah Palin for damned sure is not one of them. And the more she is attacked by liberal Democratic elements (translation: elite highly-educated big city people) the more America's working mooks will come to her defence. Her daughter had a baby out of wedlock? Big deal. What family has not? She is a Christian fundamentalist who believes God spat on his beefy paws and made the world in seven days? So do at least 150 million other Americans. She snowmobiles and fishes and she is a looker to boot. She's a redneck.
Guns, cars and fried food - and a defence of home
American ethos
The term redneck indicates a lifestyle and culture that can be found in every state in our union. The essentials of redneck culture were brought to America by what we call the Scots Irish, after first being shipped to the Ulster Plantation, where our, uh, remarkable cultural legacy can still be seen every 12 July in Ireland.
Ultimately, the Scots Irish have had more of an effect on the American ethos than any other immigrant group. Here are a few you will recognize:
Belief that no law is above God's law, not even the US Constitution.
Hyper patriotism. A fighting defence of native land, home and heart, even when it is not actually threatened: ie, Iraq, Panama, Grenada, Somalia, Cuba, Nicaragua, Vietnam, Haiti and dozens more with righteous operations titles such as Enduring Freedom, Restore Hope, and Just Cause.
A love of guns and tremendous respect for the warrior ideal. Along with this comes a strong sense of fealty and loyalty. Fealty to wartime leaders, whether it be FDR or George Bush.
Self effacement, humility. We are usually the butt of our own jokes, in an effort not to appear aloof among one another.
Belief that most things outside our own community and nation are inferior and threatening, that the world is jealous of the American lifestyle.
Personal pride in equality. No man, however rich or powerful, is better than me.
Perseverance and belief in hard work. If a man or a family is poor, it is because they did not work hard enough. God rewards those who work hard enough. So does the American system.
The only free country in the world is the United States, and the only reason we ever go to war is to protect that freedom.
All this has become so deeply instilled as to now be reflexive. It represents many of the worst traits in American culture and a few of the best.
And that has every thinking person here in the US, except perhaps John McCain and Sarah Palin, worried.
Very worried.
Page last updated at 09:39 GMT, Saturday, 6 September 2008 10:39 UK
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Printable version
Why rednecks may rule the world
By Joe Bageant Author of Deerhunting With Jesus During this US election cycle we are hearing a lot from the pundits and candidates about "heartland voters," and "white working class voters."
What they are talking about are rednecks. But in their political correctness, media types cannot bring themselves to utter the word "redneck." So I'll say it for them: redneck-redneck-redneck-redneck.
Like a Texas cowboy - delegates hang on every word
The fact is that we American rednecks embrace the term in a sort of proud defiance. To us, the term redneck indicates a culture we were born in and enjoy. So I find it very interesting that politically correct people have taken it upon themselves to protect us from what has come to be one of our own warm and light hearted terms for one another.
On the other hand, I can quite imagine their concern, given what's at stake in the upcoming election. We represent at least a third of all voters and no US president has ever been elected without our support.
Consequently, rednecks have never had so many friends or so much attention as in 2008. Contrary to the stereotype, we are not all tobacco chewing, guffawing Southerners, but are scattered from coast to coast. Over 50% of us live in the "cultural south", which is to say places with white Southern Scots-Irish values - redneck values.
We fry things nobody ever considered friable - things like cupcakes, banana sandwiches and batter dipped artificial cheese…even pickles
They include western Pennsylvania, central Missouri and southern Illinois, upstate Michigan and Minnesota, eastern Connecticut, northern New Hampshire…
So when you look at what pundits call the red state heartland, you are looking at the Republic of Redneckia.
As to having our delicate beer-sodden feelings protected from the term redneck; well, I appreciate the effort, though I highly suspect that the best way to hide snobbishness is to pose as protector of any class of folks you cannot bear. Thus we are being protected by the very people who look down on us - educated urban progressives.
And let's face it, there's plenty to look down on. By any tasteful standard, we ain't a pretty people.
Uppity and slick? Not us...
We come in one size: extra large. We are sometimes insolent and often quick to fight. We love competitive spectacle such as NASCAR and paintball, and believe gun ownership is the eleventh commandment.
We fry things nobody ever considered friable - things like cupcakes, banana sandwiches and batter dipped artificial cheese…even pickles.
Her daughter had a baby out of wedlock? Big deal. What family has not?
And most of all we are defiant and suspicious of authority, and people who are "uppity" (sophisticated) and "slick" (people who use words with more than three syllables). Two should be enough for anybody.
And that is one of the reasons that, mystifying as it is to the outside world, John McCain's choice of the moose-shooting Alaskan woman with the pregnant unmarried teen daughter appeals to many redneck and working class Americans.
We all understand that there is a political class which dominates in America, and that Sarah Palin for damned sure is not one of them. And the more she is attacked by liberal Democratic elements (translation: elite highly-educated big city people) the more America's working mooks will come to her defence. Her daughter had a baby out of wedlock? Big deal. What family has not? She is a Christian fundamentalist who believes God spat on his beefy paws and made the world in seven days? So do at least 150 million other Americans. She snowmobiles and fishes and she is a looker to boot. She's a redneck.
Guns, cars and fried food - and a defence of home
American ethos
The term redneck indicates a lifestyle and culture that can be found in every state in our union. The essentials of redneck culture were brought to America by what we call the Scots Irish, after first being shipped to the Ulster Plantation, where our, uh, remarkable cultural legacy can still be seen every 12 July in Ireland.
Ultimately, the Scots Irish have had more of an effect on the American ethos than any other immigrant group. Here are a few you will recognize:
Belief that no law is above God's law, not even the US Constitution.
Hyper patriotism. A fighting defence of native land, home and heart, even when it is not actually threatened: ie, Iraq, Panama, Grenada, Somalia, Cuba, Nicaragua, Vietnam, Haiti and dozens more with righteous operations titles such as Enduring Freedom, Restore Hope, and Just Cause.
A love of guns and tremendous respect for the warrior ideal. Along with this comes a strong sense of fealty and loyalty. Fealty to wartime leaders, whether it be FDR or George Bush.
Self effacement, humility. We are usually the butt of our own jokes, in an effort not to appear aloof among one another.
Belief that most things outside our own community and nation are inferior and threatening, that the world is jealous of the American lifestyle.
Personal pride in equality. No man, however rich or powerful, is better than me.
Perseverance and belief in hard work. If a man or a family is poor, it is because they did not work hard enough. God rewards those who work hard enough. So does the American system.
The only free country in the world is the United States, and the only reason we ever go to war is to protect that freedom.
All this has become so deeply instilled as to now be reflexive. It represents many of the worst traits in American culture and a few of the best.
And that has every thinking person here in the US, except perhaps John McCain and Sarah Palin, worried.
Very worried.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Two women meet in a coffee shop in a war-torn country
The product of the last time I had to write a damned paper:
Two women meet in a coffee shop in a foreign country. They start talking randomly. “Have you heard that song “rangers” by “A Fine Frenzy”? Something about being chased by rangers and not wanting to be caught. “
“I wonder what they did to not want to be caught. Maybe they stole something? “
“Who knows”. A pause. “They say when you walk in bear country, you don’t need to be able to run faster than the bear, just faster then the person you’re with.”
“Yeah? That’s a good idea.”
These men come in the door like they are looking for someone. They look at the two women somewhat suspiciously and then position themselves near enough to hear their conversation.
“ So, what do you like? My favorite here is their smoothies.”
“ I’ve never been here before – I’m not from here, haven’t been around much.”
“Where are you from? “
“I’ve got family in the south, deep south, hurricane country, ever been there? “
” No, my people are spread across the west – it’d be a nice place to visit, if I had a reason.”
“I think I’ll try again.”
“Want some company?”
“No, that’s not necessary, I’ve got a dog that can’t run faster than a bear.”
“Well, I’ve got to get back to work… we should do this again sometime.”
“Yeah, I’ll give you a call.”
The men look confused. They did not get what they wanted. The second woman leaves abruptly, the first watches her leave and then sits to read the paper for a while. The men leave.
Three weeks later, not exactly.. . different day of the week, different time, the women meet up again. “Want dinner?”
“No, I was thinking about going out… dancing…. Drinking.” The second woman looks haggard, wearing a hood and a hat and glasses.
“Hard times?”
“Yeah, it’s been tough. I’m feeling successful, though, like my luck’s changing.That dog of mine didn’t keep the bears away very well.”
“Did you find that friend of yours?”
“No, we went in separate cars – missed each other along the way, I guess, but I got what I wanted from her.”
The other woman simply raises her eyebrows. “So, dancing?”
Later that night, the women are at a club. The second woman starts dancing close to the first. Those men from before show up in the crowd close by. “Kiss me.”
“What?”
“Like it was your idea.” The first woman looks at the second and slowly moves in to kiss her. The men walk by with a sideways glance, but no recognition. The second woman drinks some more, rapidly approaching the too drunk to drive stage.
“Can I take you home”
“To my place?” The women leave the bar. At the second woman’s apartment, “Please stay, I can’t be alone right now.” “Sure.” “Will you sleep here?” The men are now observing the window from a high rise across the street. The man in charge says, "Leave them be. Just watch the shadows and the door.” Early the next morning, the first woman leaves. The men look, but “she’s not carrying anything. She must not have it.”
The police show up at the first woman’s house. “We have a search warrant for your house.” “I don’t understand….” “you’re companion is being held for theft and we have reason to believe that she transferred stolen goods to you.” “What?”
She goes to visit her friend in jail. “Is there anything I can do?” “No, it’s all done. I’m done.”
“It’s bad timing, but I was headed home next week.”
“You should go, your family probably misses you.”
“I hate to leave you.”
“No, it’s all good now.” They shared their goodbyes and I love you’s and a kiss.
The woman leaves her apartment taking only what she would need for a visit. If she was moving, she’d have to go through an audit. She’s not sure she’s coming back, but it’s better to assume she is.
The woman flies back to the States. She’s at home with her family and the FBI shows up. “your friend… was convicted. Do you have any intention of returning to the country?” “I hadn’t really decided yet, but I’m engaged…. My world has changed… I probably won’t be going back.”
The FBI agent, interestingly, the same man who called off his men that night, says, “walk with me.” They walk out of earshot of her family and his men. “I won’t say anything if you never go back.”
“What about my things?”
“I’ll have one of my agents pack up everything in your apt. and hers and ship it to you.”
“I have some fragile items, I’d rather at least supervise their packing.”
“OK, but only supervise.”
When she gets back to the states, she flies to Tennessee with her friend’s belongings. Louisiana, Florida, she finds someone with a familiar name and ships a few packages to them with an explanation. “I loved her, this is what is left, I hope it means as much to you as she meant to me.”
The news had a story the other day about this valuable jewel that was mysteriously missing from a war torn country. No one knows what happened to it.
30 years later.
The jewel surfaces in the Northeast. No one knows where it came from.
This retired FBI agent came to see my mom the other day. “How’d you do it?”
“Love is powerful.” He left looking very unsatisfied.
20 years later.
My mom said something interesting on her death bed. I write it because I never want to forget. She was an amazing woman. She had been many places, just to work and see what the world held. She had this innate ability to read minds, maybe not literally, but she always knew what certain people were thinking. She said they had beautiful souls. I think it was because deep down they understood each other.
I was sitting with her one day and she said, “There is a great power in assumption and randomness.” “What, mom?” “Think about it love, it’ll all make sense someday.” When we went through her estate, she had an enormous amount of money invested and an apartment in a war torn country. She gave much of it away, but she provided for all of us. Not enough so that we wouldn’t have to work for our everyday needs, but she provided for our houses and our educations and our children’s educations. And, there was a provision for this family in Louisiana. I later heard a rumour that they had some very notorious members in their family.
Two women meet in a coffee shop in a foreign country. They start talking randomly. “Have you heard that song “rangers” by “A Fine Frenzy”? Something about being chased by rangers and not wanting to be caught. “
“I wonder what they did to not want to be caught. Maybe they stole something? “
“Who knows”. A pause. “They say when you walk in bear country, you don’t need to be able to run faster than the bear, just faster then the person you’re with.”
“Yeah? That’s a good idea.”
These men come in the door like they are looking for someone. They look at the two women somewhat suspiciously and then position themselves near enough to hear their conversation.
“ So, what do you like? My favorite here is their smoothies.”
“ I’ve never been here before – I’m not from here, haven’t been around much.”
“Where are you from? “
“I’ve got family in the south, deep south, hurricane country, ever been there? “
” No, my people are spread across the west – it’d be a nice place to visit, if I had a reason.”
“I think I’ll try again.”
“Want some company?”
“No, that’s not necessary, I’ve got a dog that can’t run faster than a bear.”
“Well, I’ve got to get back to work… we should do this again sometime.”
“Yeah, I’ll give you a call.”
The men look confused. They did not get what they wanted. The second woman leaves abruptly, the first watches her leave and then sits to read the paper for a while. The men leave.
Three weeks later, not exactly.. . different day of the week, different time, the women meet up again. “Want dinner?”
“No, I was thinking about going out… dancing…. Drinking.” The second woman looks haggard, wearing a hood and a hat and glasses.
“Hard times?”
“Yeah, it’s been tough. I’m feeling successful, though, like my luck’s changing.That dog of mine didn’t keep the bears away very well.”
“Did you find that friend of yours?”
“No, we went in separate cars – missed each other along the way, I guess, but I got what I wanted from her.”
The other woman simply raises her eyebrows. “So, dancing?”
Later that night, the women are at a club. The second woman starts dancing close to the first. Those men from before show up in the crowd close by. “Kiss me.”
“What?”
“Like it was your idea.” The first woman looks at the second and slowly moves in to kiss her. The men walk by with a sideways glance, but no recognition. The second woman drinks some more, rapidly approaching the too drunk to drive stage.
“Can I take you home”
“To my place?” The women leave the bar. At the second woman’s apartment, “Please stay, I can’t be alone right now.” “Sure.” “Will you sleep here?” The men are now observing the window from a high rise across the street. The man in charge says, "Leave them be. Just watch the shadows and the door.” Early the next morning, the first woman leaves. The men look, but “she’s not carrying anything. She must not have it.”
The police show up at the first woman’s house. “We have a search warrant for your house.” “I don’t understand….” “you’re companion is being held for theft and we have reason to believe that she transferred stolen goods to you.” “What?”
She goes to visit her friend in jail. “Is there anything I can do?” “No, it’s all done. I’m done.”
“It’s bad timing, but I was headed home next week.”
“You should go, your family probably misses you.”
“I hate to leave you.”
“No, it’s all good now.” They shared their goodbyes and I love you’s and a kiss.
The woman leaves her apartment taking only what she would need for a visit. If she was moving, she’d have to go through an audit. She’s not sure she’s coming back, but it’s better to assume she is.
The woman flies back to the States. She’s at home with her family and the FBI shows up. “your friend… was convicted. Do you have any intention of returning to the country?” “I hadn’t really decided yet, but I’m engaged…. My world has changed… I probably won’t be going back.”
The FBI agent, interestingly, the same man who called off his men that night, says, “walk with me.” They walk out of earshot of her family and his men. “I won’t say anything if you never go back.”
“What about my things?”
“I’ll have one of my agents pack up everything in your apt. and hers and ship it to you.”
“I have some fragile items, I’d rather at least supervise their packing.”
“OK, but only supervise.”
When she gets back to the states, she flies to Tennessee with her friend’s belongings. Louisiana, Florida, she finds someone with a familiar name and ships a few packages to them with an explanation. “I loved her, this is what is left, I hope it means as much to you as she meant to me.”
The news had a story the other day about this valuable jewel that was mysteriously missing from a war torn country. No one knows what happened to it.
30 years later.
The jewel surfaces in the Northeast. No one knows where it came from.
This retired FBI agent came to see my mom the other day. “How’d you do it?”
“Love is powerful.” He left looking very unsatisfied.
20 years later.
My mom said something interesting on her death bed. I write it because I never want to forget. She was an amazing woman. She had been many places, just to work and see what the world held. She had this innate ability to read minds, maybe not literally, but she always knew what certain people were thinking. She said they had beautiful souls. I think it was because deep down they understood each other.
I was sitting with her one day and she said, “There is a great power in assumption and randomness.” “What, mom?” “Think about it love, it’ll all make sense someday.” When we went through her estate, she had an enormous amount of money invested and an apartment in a war torn country. She gave much of it away, but she provided for all of us. Not enough so that we wouldn’t have to work for our everyday needs, but she provided for our houses and our educations and our children’s educations. And, there was a provision for this family in Louisiana. I later heard a rumour that they had some very notorious members in their family.
Monday, September 22, 2008
A story, truth or fiction...
Here’s the story:
Police report receiving a phone call from neighbor saying that there were three women outside digging a hole at 11:30 pm on a cool clear moonlit night and she had heard them mention that the hole had to be bigger, something about Earl had to die, searches and seizures, and “RIP”, saying some words, “goodbye – name unclear”.
The woman was concerned. She noticed that the bark in the flowerbed at the end of the apartment had been disturbed (and not just in one small spot, but all over the flowerbed!). Also, the three women were all smoking afterwards. One said something about not smoking except when it concerned death and deadlines, and one of the others had said something about imminent doom, and it was apparent that the cigarettes belonged to only one of them, so at least two of them were not regular smokers.
Additionally, earlier in the day, the woman had heard some kind of loud snapping sounds coming from the apartment. She was unsure what the noise was and decided to stay inside for the afternoon.
The neighbor wasn’t sure if there was anything to be reported, but she felt obligated because the situation seemed extremely fishy. She was also disturbed at the callousness of the three women. If this was a situation concerning someone’s death, they were talking about it flippantly, talking about tanning, their plans for the next day, etc. Additionally, she had heard two of them talking later about how they didn’t want anyone to know and they would lie to make sure that certain people didn’t find out the truth.
Possible explanation from the woman who lives in the house next door.
Obviously they killed someone’s boyfriend and buried him in the flowerbed, like in that song “Earl had to die.” In fact two of the women admitted to being involved in 4-H, like in the song. At the very least, they must have been burying damning evidence of some crime in the flowerbed. Why else would three women be digging at 11:30 pm on a cool fall evening. Not to mention, it was very moonlit that night, they could have committed a myriad of crimes and be hiding the evidence.
Another possible explanation from a classmate.
The three had committed an honor code violation and were burying the evidence. Who knows what evidence there would be to be buried, but it’s a possibility. Especially because the three were law students. You never know with those damn law students, they’re always breaking some law. They seem to think they’re above it. In fact, I heard that two of the three had stolen from a classmate two days previous! Coincidentally, they were seen leaving a party just prior to the cops breaking it up. Who knows what kind of lawlessness they are capable of!
Yet another possibility:
The woman had a mouse problem. When she left her apartment that day to go to school to attempt to meet a deadline, she had left traps out to catch the mice. Big traps, because she wanted to make sure that the mice were dead, and from the noise they had been making, she was afraid they might be big mice. She did not want to use poison because she did not want to find dead rotting mice at a later date. She had her friend borrow a shovel to bury the mice, but because she and another mutual friend were working on a research outline, frantically trying to meet a deadline, they couldn’t be rid of the animals until late that evening. The three friends met to bury the dead mice. It took three of them because, well, you know how women can be when it comes to mice and how they need moral support for EVERYTHING. I mean, it takes at least three women to do anything that could possibly involve squeamishness or safety issues, no matter how remote the chance of harm.
Disclaimer: any resemblance to real people or events is unlikely. Who would bury anything at 11:30 on a cold night when they had a deadline the next day? Seriously.
Police report receiving a phone call from neighbor saying that there were three women outside digging a hole at 11:30 pm on a cool clear moonlit night and she had heard them mention that the hole had to be bigger, something about Earl had to die, searches and seizures, and “RIP”, saying some words, “goodbye – name unclear”.
The woman was concerned. She noticed that the bark in the flowerbed at the end of the apartment had been disturbed (and not just in one small spot, but all over the flowerbed!). Also, the three women were all smoking afterwards. One said something about not smoking except when it concerned death and deadlines, and one of the others had said something about imminent doom, and it was apparent that the cigarettes belonged to only one of them, so at least two of them were not regular smokers.
Additionally, earlier in the day, the woman had heard some kind of loud snapping sounds coming from the apartment. She was unsure what the noise was and decided to stay inside for the afternoon.
The neighbor wasn’t sure if there was anything to be reported, but she felt obligated because the situation seemed extremely fishy. She was also disturbed at the callousness of the three women. If this was a situation concerning someone’s death, they were talking about it flippantly, talking about tanning, their plans for the next day, etc. Additionally, she had heard two of them talking later about how they didn’t want anyone to know and they would lie to make sure that certain people didn’t find out the truth.
Possible explanation from the woman who lives in the house next door.
Obviously they killed someone’s boyfriend and buried him in the flowerbed, like in that song “Earl had to die.” In fact two of the women admitted to being involved in 4-H, like in the song. At the very least, they must have been burying damning evidence of some crime in the flowerbed. Why else would three women be digging at 11:30 pm on a cool fall evening. Not to mention, it was very moonlit that night, they could have committed a myriad of crimes and be hiding the evidence.
Another possible explanation from a classmate.
The three had committed an honor code violation and were burying the evidence. Who knows what evidence there would be to be buried, but it’s a possibility. Especially because the three were law students. You never know with those damn law students, they’re always breaking some law. They seem to think they’re above it. In fact, I heard that two of the three had stolen from a classmate two days previous! Coincidentally, they were seen leaving a party just prior to the cops breaking it up. Who knows what kind of lawlessness they are capable of!
Yet another possibility:
The woman had a mouse problem. When she left her apartment that day to go to school to attempt to meet a deadline, she had left traps out to catch the mice. Big traps, because she wanted to make sure that the mice were dead, and from the noise they had been making, she was afraid they might be big mice. She did not want to use poison because she did not want to find dead rotting mice at a later date. She had her friend borrow a shovel to bury the mice, but because she and another mutual friend were working on a research outline, frantically trying to meet a deadline, they couldn’t be rid of the animals until late that evening. The three friends met to bury the dead mice. It took three of them because, well, you know how women can be when it comes to mice and how they need moral support for EVERYTHING. I mean, it takes at least three women to do anything that could possibly involve squeamishness or safety issues, no matter how remote the chance of harm.
Disclaimer: any resemblance to real people or events is unlikely. Who would bury anything at 11:30 on a cold night when they had a deadline the next day? Seriously.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
my first year of law school in sum
Salt Lake City Memorial Day weekend 2008
“pregnancy box”
“I have an unlimited box because of what I do”
“we were not giggling and running up the stairs – no, it was down the stairs and then back up”
Sardines
“ I ran into the wall and hit my head!”
“I’m so sorry I felt you up in the hot tub” – “Don’t worry, I got you back last night”
“I am having so much fun with gays and lesbians in Park City”
“Stripper, stripping, whore, cowgirls! – it was undress”
Civil Procedure:
Woman suing because of a heifer that was hit when it wandered on the tracks.
"Thievery of precious chattels" - Jenn
Jessie and Bertha Parks collided with a train - "Guess who won"
"I was getting a hair cut one day. The Barber was talking about an ongoing lawsuit, "That woman is suing for loss of his condominium. I don't think he gave her that much condominium in the first place!"
“one bite at the apple”
"Bribing the judge is not acceptable, in most cases"
From the prologue of a book
"The reader may have before him 200 pages of the dreariest prose ever written by mankind."
"At the time, you made your money based on how many students took your class - Thank God they've abandoned that!"
So far today, he has mentioned Playgirl in passing as well as peuking in his mothers arms….
“Minus 5 minutes that I was exerting all my energy into Not Laughing out Loud!
LOL - Think a hierarchy of "norms" like Norm from cheers.
Ashley's contribution:
ashleyrokyta@hotmail.com says:
little norm medium norm and big norm...awesome
ashleyrokyta@hotmail.com says:
or like a hierarchy of drunkeness
ashleyrokyta@hotmail.com says:
sober norm tipsy norm drunk norm
I was crying I was laughing so hard!
So then, I read a myspace comment where a friend of mine said he was laughing so hard at a joke I posted that he blew a snot bubble.
Then I was shushed by the peanut gallery in front of me and ashley said - you're making a scene control yourself!
OMG -I almost had to leave!
And then that guy started shaking his ass at the same time Vincenti started talking about Norm again. I almost died.”
She started laughing in the middle of class – apparently if you google that professor’s name and look at images, a half naked woman comes up!
Head count: 35!
"Do you think he knows this isn't how big our section really is?"
All time most common quote: "WELLhhh"
Two words - I have no idea what the hell they mean or how they're spelled: reify, hyposthetis? Maybe he means hypothesis
A hypostetis means to treat as real something that is conceptual.
Reification is a synonym to a hypostetis.
What do you know, I learned something.
Missed it, I thought of a funny quote from freshman year of college. "In the first place, your honor, those weren't chickens."
Vincenti "Do you think you're wasting your time here?"
George started talking about people being on top and holding people down and some one always being on top….. Um….
"I'm having a hard time finding revolutionaries here."
"I don't hate men, neither do most feminists."
Jeremy: I don't mean to dominate the class discussion (I think)
Vincenti: I do! I'm the teacher!
"Act in good faith, do what you thin kis right. Nine times out of ten, you'll be right."
If I thought you were going to bring it up, I'd want to know so I can go find my own quack.
The infamous george
Vincenti whispers "Then scratch him off"
It'd be a pity if you only learned one thing out of class if you didn't get a chance to tell me of it.
" you laugh like this retard I used to know"
Torts: If you put a "but" in a sentence, people remember the second half.
T-shirt emblem.
Caution:
Please do not transport fireworks on the train.
Message brought to you by Long Island Railroad
" a breathtaking departure from tort law"
Judges say - "this is simple"
If you ever see a sentence saying clearly - it isn't clear, if it says it's simple, it isn't simple.
"When I teach remedies, people always sit in the back and make comments about blowing things up - I think they've been in law school too long and are getting tired of it."
"That’s enough hazing for one day - if you are in a state of trauma, I don't want to make it worse."
"you're a loser!" (to jenn chadband in the context of the hypo as her being the plaintiff)
"I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm protected by tort law."
Lol - Austin Powers "Oh, Behave!"
Help Lollipops Realize Candy is Viral
If you have everything down cold, the essay will be easy
Property wasn’t very entertaining
Random statement about the first vcr with a wired remote and new American Gladiator - Hulk Hogan getting old
"drugs aren't treating you so well in your old age"
Discussion about SG-1 :) Satz wants to be Teal'c! :D
To Jeremy: "What did you say, I was dazzled by your suit."
If they're gonna run this place like a kindergarten, I want milk and naps, baby.
“pregnancy box”
“I have an unlimited box because of what I do”
“we were not giggling and running up the stairs – no, it was down the stairs and then back up”
Sardines
“ I ran into the wall and hit my head!”
“I’m so sorry I felt you up in the hot tub” – “Don’t worry, I got you back last night”
“I am having so much fun with gays and lesbians in Park City”
“Stripper, stripping, whore, cowgirls! – it was undress”
Civil Procedure:
Woman suing because of a heifer that was hit when it wandered on the tracks.
"Thievery of precious chattels" - Jenn
Jessie and Bertha Parks collided with a train - "Guess who won"
"I was getting a hair cut one day. The Barber was talking about an ongoing lawsuit, "That woman is suing for loss of his condominium. I don't think he gave her that much condominium in the first place!"
“one bite at the apple”
"Bribing the judge is not acceptable, in most cases"
From the prologue of a book
"The reader may have before him 200 pages of the dreariest prose ever written by mankind."
"At the time, you made your money based on how many students took your class - Thank God they've abandoned that!"
So far today, he has mentioned Playgirl in passing as well as peuking in his mothers arms….
“Minus 5 minutes that I was exerting all my energy into Not Laughing out Loud!
LOL - Think a hierarchy of "norms" like Norm from cheers.
Ashley's contribution:
ashleyrokyta@hotmail.com says:
little norm medium norm and big norm...awesome
ashleyrokyta@hotmail.com says:
or like a hierarchy of drunkeness
ashleyrokyta@hotmail.com says:
sober norm tipsy norm drunk norm
I was crying I was laughing so hard!
So then, I read a myspace comment where a friend of mine said he was laughing so hard at a joke I posted that he blew a snot bubble.
Then I was shushed by the peanut gallery in front of me and ashley said - you're making a scene control yourself!
OMG -I almost had to leave!
And then that guy started shaking his ass at the same time Vincenti started talking about Norm again. I almost died.”
She started laughing in the middle of class – apparently if you google that professor’s name and look at images, a half naked woman comes up!
Head count: 35!
"Do you think he knows this isn't how big our section really is?"
All time most common quote: "WELLhhh"
Two words - I have no idea what the hell they mean or how they're spelled: reify, hyposthetis? Maybe he means hypothesis
A hypostetis means to treat as real something that is conceptual.
Reification is a synonym to a hypostetis.
What do you know, I learned something.
Missed it, I thought of a funny quote from freshman year of college. "In the first place, your honor, those weren't chickens."
Vincenti "Do you think you're wasting your time here?"
George started talking about people being on top and holding people down and some one always being on top….. Um….
"I'm having a hard time finding revolutionaries here."
"I don't hate men, neither do most feminists."
Jeremy: I don't mean to dominate the class discussion (I think)
Vincenti: I do! I'm the teacher!
"Act in good faith, do what you thin kis right. Nine times out of ten, you'll be right."
If I thought you were going to bring it up, I'd want to know so I can go find my own quack.
The infamous george
Vincenti whispers "Then scratch him off"
It'd be a pity if you only learned one thing out of class if you didn't get a chance to tell me of it.
" you laugh like this retard I used to know"
Torts: If you put a "but" in a sentence, people remember the second half.
T-shirt emblem.
Caution:
Please do not transport fireworks on the train.
Message brought to you by Long Island Railroad
" a breathtaking departure from tort law"
Judges say - "this is simple"
If you ever see a sentence saying clearly - it isn't clear, if it says it's simple, it isn't simple.
"When I teach remedies, people always sit in the back and make comments about blowing things up - I think they've been in law school too long and are getting tired of it."
"That’s enough hazing for one day - if you are in a state of trauma, I don't want to make it worse."
"you're a loser!" (to jenn chadband in the context of the hypo as her being the plaintiff)
"I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm protected by tort law."
Lol - Austin Powers "Oh, Behave!"
Help Lollipops Realize Candy is Viral
If you have everything down cold, the essay will be easy
Property wasn’t very entertaining
Random statement about the first vcr with a wired remote and new American Gladiator - Hulk Hogan getting old
"drugs aren't treating you so well in your old age"
Discussion about SG-1 :) Satz wants to be Teal'c! :D
To Jeremy: "What did you say, I was dazzled by your suit."
If they're gonna run this place like a kindergarten, I want milk and naps, baby.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Places I ...
Places I’ve slept (since I turned 18 (before that, there were a few places, but they were on trips with my parents, so I’m not sure where):
Living room floor at mom and dads
Basement floor at mom and dads
The hearth in front of the fireplace at mom and dad’s (well, I was a little kid, but it’s a funny place)
The front seat of my car
On a wagon seat - don’t worry, the horses were tied up!
The floor of the tack shed
Couches in the camp building
The floor in front of the woodstove at mom and dads
My bedroom floor, upstairs and downstairs at mom and dads
Piano bench at mom and dads
Both couches at mom and dads
My bed – everywhere I’ve lived – two dorm rooms, two houses at whitworth, two houses in Olympia, My parents, Moscow
The floor of my Moscow apartment
The dining room floor of the Women in Politics house
Crissy’s floor in the Women and Politics house
My bedroom floor in the Wo Pol house
Crissy’s bed in the women and Politics house
Both couches in the Arts in Life house
The futon and both couches in the Women and Politics house
The living room floor of the Arts in Life house
Both couches in the Westminster Lounge
The seat of my grandpa’s pickup at the marcus campground
A bed in a house on Maui
An airplane
On the back of my car
On Rick and Tasha’s futon in the house in arden and the house in boyds
A bed at Sen. Morton’s house
The couch at Sen. Morton’s house
The futon at both Crissy’s apartments
A mattress at Amy’s apartment – the first night
The couch at Frances’ house
The floor of the yellow house
The floor of Crissy’s second apartment – the first night we moved her in
The futon mattress on the floor (with Alicia) at Crissy’s first apartment
Several piano benches in the music building at Whitworth
London - hotel
Kalispell – Mike and Sandy Jo’s house
Missoula - hotel
Yakima – hotel and Grandpa Joe’s house
Spokane - hotel
A tent at Marcus, in Republic, in Milton-Freewater, Haags cove,
The floor on a foam pad at Birdies house
Steven’s couch
Austin and Michelle’s floor
The camp building!!
Gramps’ house
The bed of Grandpa’s pickup
My parents’ yard
My parents deck
Fa’ana’s couch at the Shalom theme house
Holley’s parents house
Holley’s couch at her house
The Blankenship Girls’ house in Spokane
Janna’s bed in Seattle
Janna’s couch in Seattle (I must’ve been bad lol)
Celeste’s house in Milton-Freewater
Stacey’s house in Kettle
Stacey’s house in Spokane
Stacey’s couch at the apt. in West Central
My brother’s couch
A house in Corona Cali.
A house in La Habra Heights Cali.
A house in Park City Utah
A house in Helena Mt
A Hotel and a house in Albuquerque NM
A camper in Republic
A tent in the Marcus Campground
A tent in the middle of the arena in republic
Places I’ve spent the night without sleeping:
Art building – Whitworth
English building – Whitworth
I-15 north
I-5 north
I-5 south
Arts in Life house
Wo –Pol house
The law school
People I’ve slept with: (apparently I sleep alone more often than with someone – the only boy was on the other side of a girl… haha, unless you count sleeping in the same room, then there would be four more boys on the list….)
Crissy
Amy
Catherine
Janna
Jackie B.
Alicia Doyl
Ashley N.
Ashley N. and Joe M.
Stacey
Lori
Michelle
Ashleigh
Erika Prins
Someday I want to
Someday I want to: (in no particular order)
1. Train horses
2. Become a massage therapist
3. Become a bartender
4. own a pickup
5. Own a Jeep
6. Own cows
7. Take voice lessons
8. Learn to paint/draw/sculpt
9. Learn to dance
10. Learn martial arts
11. Run a marathon/triathlon
12. Live in a big city for at least 3 months
13. Travel to
14. Travel to the East Coast
15. Find my father
16. Meet my biological families
17. Show cows pro
18. Visit
19. Own a bar for Ashley to manage and Ashleigh to cater out of
20. Learn to play the penny whistle
21. Learn to play the drums
22. Learn to play the harp
23. Learn to play the violin
24. Learn to play the cello
25. Learn to play the clarinet
26. Learn to play the organ
27. Own the above instruments
28. Have muscular arms/body
29. Own a pug
30. Own a house and property in the country and run cows and horses
31. Have an herb garden
32. Learn medicinal uses for herbs
33. Be married
34. Have a baby
35. house/raise foster kids
36. Cut my hair really short/ shave my head
37. Work for a caterer
38. GO fishing
39. Go hunting
40. Own several rifles/guns/pistols
41. Learn to play the piano by ear/improvise/play better
42. visit Catherine in
43. Visit Alicia in Arizona
44. Go to
45. Live on a boat for at least 3 months
46. Read/own all the Anne of Green Gables books
47. Learn Latin
48. Learn Greek
49. Learn Hebrew
50. Understand theology/doctrine better
51. Go camping once a summer
52. Float the river once a summer
53. Go to the drive in once a summer
54. Go Horse-back riding once a summer
55. Go to the Republic Fair every year
56. Be a land use consultant
57. Work for a legislative committee
58. Work for the Farm Bureau
59. Pass the bar exam
60. Work in the ID legislature
61. Work in the MT legislature
62. Learn to ski
63. Learn to snowboard
64. Learn to snowshoe
65. Become a certified mediator
66. Go skydiving
67. Write a book
68. Write a song – instrumental and words
Wow
That's all there really is to say.
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/24585481/
check it out for yourself.
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/24585481/
check it out for yourself.
Monday, August 18, 2008
family
How do you define family? the people who raised you? the people who you share genes with? the people you can go home to? the people you can always count on to be there when you need them? the people you make plans to visit with when you've been gone a long time? All of the above?
I've met my biological mother, and now much of her family. Now, I finally have contact info. for my father, and I don't know what to do with it.
That's all.
I've met my biological mother, and now much of her family. Now, I finally have contact info. for my father, and I don't know what to do with it.
That's all.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
the bumper
I have so many stories about the poor little red car. I only want to write the latest story here, I'll fill in with the rest later. So... we had a hard winter, we'll just leave it at that for now. As a result, there's a hole and decent crack in the front bumper, the back bumper has several cracks and a giant hole in it. So, for a summer project, I decided that I would get a new bumper. I dragged my brother to Pull N'Save with me and we got a new bumper (and a new seat - another good story). We put the seat in and I took the bumper back to my temporary apt. and maneuvered it onto the patio. It's baby blue (my car is red). The guy at Carquest back home told me to make sure if there were any breaks in it to make sure it couldn't flex and to use a scotch brite pad to "rough it up a bit" so the new paint will stick. He also mixed me one aerosol can of paint. So... I spent days cutting, filing, sanding, and washing the bumper (made a huge mess in the bathroom and on the patio). Finally, I was ready to paint. I maneuvered the bumper into my car(not an easy feat) and took it to my dear friend's apt. (she has a garage I can use). I also bought a camouflage tarp (very excited about that). I got the bumper all set up and began to paint. Honestly, it looked like shit. I called my dad. He said, maybe you need another coat of paint. Okay, easy enough. I went to Carquest - it was closed, went to another, it was closed too. So, I went to Carquest, the next day on my lunch break. They could mix the paint, but not put it in an aerosol can, but, the woman said, you oculd use this sprayer - it works just the same and it's pretty cheap. Ok, that's doable. So, Monday, I put a second coat of paint on. It looked really good, if I do say so myself. But.... it was a little rough and I had enough paint left to do another coat. So, Tuesday, I try to put a third coat on. I ran out of propellant 2/3 up one side of the bumper. Three beers and 2 cigarrettes later, I was ok with that. I went and bought more the next day. Wednesday, third coat of paint. I thought I ran out of paint halfway through - so annoyed! But, don't fear! I had enough, until I ran out of propellant with a strip left across the top of the bumper. WTF, really. So, another day of being pissed. Thursday, I decide, F. this Shit. The SOB is going on the car. So, I proceed to attempt unscrewing the two screws on the drivers side. no luck. I went to Schucks. Got a stubby screwdriver. Still no luck. Ok, I'll take off the tire. Found the jack. Rusted shut. WD40 is my hero! Jacked the car up. Oh wait, I need to loosen the lug nuts first. Back down she goes. Can't loosen the lug nuts. OK, new plan. Cut down the stubby screwdriver. Cut my finger. I'm laying on my friends couch when she shows up. "you look like you want to die!". No, just annoyed past the point of frustration. So, her friend says he will help. I wanted so badly to do this project without some male helping. But, enough with the pride - he worked on it for a good hour and a half before giving up. Not the right tools, so frustrated. So... the bumper is now on my parents deck. Tomorrow I'm getting another aerosol can of paint. Also, I have sanded off the bumps and my dad gave me an adapter for my socket wrench, so I'm hopeful!
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