So we had our drinking women's club last night, sans two members who are either pregnant or nursing (and therefore can't drink... WHO KNEW??). We dined on homemade guac, hummus, and awesome salad. We drank the most delish gin and tonics and champagne with pomegranate and tangerine juice. We then missed the last metro and wandered drunkenly about the city being struck by the fact that we were back in the city.
Me (small town summer Chica): Holy cow, look at all the streets and big buildings! I can't believe I'm back in a city!
NYC Summer Chica: Holy cow, look at how empty all the streets are and how small and spaced out everything is! I can't believe they call this a city!
I am always and consistently awestruck by how fantastic these women are. We discussed are usual topics - books and literature (including a heated debate on how one should organize one's library), summer experiences, dating, law school, women in the workplace, gender roles, etc. I got my hands on some books I've been *dying* to read (yay!) and got some really important and well-received advice. Then we got drunk and showed each other our hottest dancing move. You know, because we're demure ladies. Who happen to have formed a social club based on consuming vast quantities of well-made booze.
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Sad Goodbye
Mike, from Buffalo Wings & Vodka has signed off the blogosphere with a wonderful and charming post - typical of all his writing. It's been a wonderful way to spend my classtime, and he will sorely be missed.
Why I Hate Victoria's Secret
You know, I admit that I used to shop there. All my bras, as it were, were from VS for a long period of time. However, after my surgery and weight loss, I stopped fitting into anything they had so I started shopping at department stores where they accommodate my "body type." Which, as you know, is clearly the pre-teen section. But today I went with a friend of mine as a shopping/lunch date. We had just had a great experience earring shopping and we went and ruined it with a trip to polyester sex hell. While she has lovely and quite normal proportions, and therefore VS works fine with her, I am shaped like an utter freak, and they take every opportunity to make it worse.
The store clerks are like rabid weasel-sharks (a rare species of shark particularly prone to rabidity) slowly circling closer and closer and obsessively asking you if you need to be "fitted." Being fitted, people, involves some random stranger with no tailoring experience wrapping a measuring tape around your breasts and, in my case, gasping and stifling a giggle. I don't know why these people always want to get so close to my breasts. They basically accost you by cornering you into a dressing room with their confusing speeches and stupid measuring tape. I felt like those koalas they knock out of the tree and net to poke at in those nature shows. Then they remind me yet again at how absolutely surprising it is that my ribs are so wide and my breasts are so small. Then they only have two bras in that size. You know, because if you're going to have my rib size then you DAMN WELL BETTER have giant tits. 'A' cups are reserved for 5'3 petite athletes with miniscule rib cages and frail delicate complexions. What's more is that the two bras that fit me are generally handicap bras for the breast-impaired. That means they are pre-shaped with scary padding and they squish what little breast there is up so far that it becomes hard to tell where your collar bone ends and your semi-real breast begins.
I guess the most insulting thing is that on top of everything else, the freaking things cost $48!!! While my normally-shaped friend gasped and gagged at the price she was about to pay for an undergarment to be used one time (ah, to be a bridesmaid) and I raged at a store that never ceases to make me feel entirely inadequate - as if Early Interview Week wasn't doing that for me already - they did one final thing that set everything off.
My friend finished paying and they woman wrapped the clothing in tissue paper and then put it in a bag. She then put MORE tissue paper so it was happily spraying pink hearts and gold skank symbols out of the bag. Finally, she sprayed the bag with perfume. When this happened, neither of us could keep it in. We rushed out of the store snickering and then openly guffawed on the sidewalk in front of the store. It was one of the more bizarre things that has happened to me in a long time. What desperate general merchandise exec on her way out came up with that crap?
You know that perfume is going to give some woman a giant allergic reaction and she'll sue them. I just hope that stuff comes off in the wash.
The store clerks are like rabid weasel-sharks (a rare species of shark particularly prone to rabidity) slowly circling closer and closer and obsessively asking you if you need to be "fitted." Being fitted, people, involves some random stranger with no tailoring experience wrapping a measuring tape around your breasts and, in my case, gasping and stifling a giggle. I don't know why these people always want to get so close to my breasts. They basically accost you by cornering you into a dressing room with their confusing speeches and stupid measuring tape. I felt like those koalas they knock out of the tree and net to poke at in those nature shows. Then they remind me yet again at how absolutely surprising it is that my ribs are so wide and my breasts are so small. Then they only have two bras in that size. You know, because if you're going to have my rib size then you DAMN WELL BETTER have giant tits. 'A' cups are reserved for 5'3 petite athletes with miniscule rib cages and frail delicate complexions. What's more is that the two bras that fit me are generally handicap bras for the breast-impaired. That means they are pre-shaped with scary padding and they squish what little breast there is up so far that it becomes hard to tell where your collar bone ends and your semi-real breast begins.
I guess the most insulting thing is that on top of everything else, the freaking things cost $48!!! While my normally-shaped friend gasped and gagged at the price she was about to pay for an undergarment to be used one time (ah, to be a bridesmaid) and I raged at a store that never ceases to make me feel entirely inadequate - as if Early Interview Week wasn't doing that for me already - they did one final thing that set everything off.
My friend finished paying and they woman wrapped the clothing in tissue paper and then put it in a bag. She then put MORE tissue paper so it was happily spraying pink hearts and gold skank symbols out of the bag. Finally, she sprayed the bag with perfume. When this happened, neither of us could keep it in. We rushed out of the store snickering and then openly guffawed on the sidewalk in front of the store. It was one of the more bizarre things that has happened to me in a long time. What desperate general merchandise exec on her way out came up with that crap?
You know that perfume is going to give some woman a giant allergic reaction and she'll sue them. I just hope that stuff comes off in the wash.
Monday, August 28, 2006
Friends Are God's Way of Apologizing for Your Family
Well, I am back at GULC. EIW is going on and I am barely skirting along the edges of it. I had two interviews today, one good and one so-so. They are both having receptions, which I am seriously considering attending. If for no other reason than because I'm living off my credit card until my student loans come in (no, Mu, I don't need any money) and they will provide me with a swantastic meal. I somehow have no enthusiasm for this stuff this year.
What I *do* have enthusiasm for is seeing all my awesome peeptastic peeps. There are babies and babies on the way, nose peircing, and just as much wit and fun as ever. I had a great dinner and wine and much talking late into the night with Jes and Montana last night and today I took much joy in hearing about everyone's summer successes (and downfalls). Almost everyone seemed to enjoy their work, which made me really happy. Soon I'll head over to our sexy sexy gym with one of my fellow law peeps and get my gym on. Mmmm, gym and law peep.
I'm also figuring out my routine. There is a bus that runs right by my house and straight to school, which is fantastic. And a guy on said bus told me I should give him money or else I was going straight to hell. I didn't appreciate that much. I told him I'd take my chances and save him a seat. He didn't appreciate that very much at all. I'm glad Cville didn't wear my city wilyness any.
What I *do* have enthusiasm for is seeing all my awesome peeptastic peeps. There are babies and babies on the way, nose peircing, and just as much wit and fun as ever. I had a great dinner and wine and much talking late into the night with Jes and Montana last night and today I took much joy in hearing about everyone's summer successes (and downfalls). Almost everyone seemed to enjoy their work, which made me really happy. Soon I'll head over to our sexy sexy gym with one of my fellow law peeps and get my gym on. Mmmm, gym and law peep.
I'm also figuring out my routine. There is a bus that runs right by my house and straight to school, which is fantastic. And a guy on said bus told me I should give him money or else I was going straight to hell. I didn't appreciate that much. I told him I'd take my chances and save him a seat. He didn't appreciate that very much at all. I'm glad Cville didn't wear my city wilyness any.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
It's Gettin Kinda Hectic
Sorry about the long delay, but I'm back in DC and still in the sorting/unsorting of the moving process.
Time in ATL was wonderful and it seemed that my people sprouted a bunch of new kin for the clan. Everyone seemed to have had babies within a couple months of one another.
Scary.
One of the best moments is when we handed the baby off (momentarily) to one of our least likely candidates - an aging (but still holding on) punker covered in tatoos and red eyed from the night before. A couple minutes later, the baby started to cry, as babies do. Since he didn't know what to do about it, he started to holler too. We came back in to see him straight-armed and mock-sobbing with the baby. When asked, he responded "I dunno man, just seemed like the little feller needed someone to cry with him."
So, we were all ourselves and it was fun to see all the ole peeps. However, I decided that although I used to be known as a wild one in my group, I don't think I can keep up anymore! I don't know when it happened, but drinking is hard now. I went out barhopping with some of my oldest and closest friends and then followed it up with a visit to a friends house for drinks. The next day everyone else was up and rearing to go and I was curled in a ball with my shades on growling and whomever was stupid enough to try and interact with me.
There was also Snakes on a Plane, which was not all I'd hoped. I hoped it would be campy + big budget. There have been discussions that you can't do "camp" but I don't agree. Evil Dead is a testament to purposeful camp. This should have been Evil Dead with a million dollar budget. Instead, it was kind of like a badly directed porno with snakes. Well, when I put it that way, I realize it wasn't nearly that good. Anyhow, we snuck booze in for old times sake and sat in a row, passing vodka and orange juice up and down, ensuring that we all share in whatever horrible illness one of us may have.
Now, it's time to figure out if that stuff in the hall is really urine. I love moving into new spaces.
Time in ATL was wonderful and it seemed that my people sprouted a bunch of new kin for the clan. Everyone seemed to have had babies within a couple months of one another.
Scary.
One of the best moments is when we handed the baby off (momentarily) to one of our least likely candidates - an aging (but still holding on) punker covered in tatoos and red eyed from the night before. A couple minutes later, the baby started to cry, as babies do. Since he didn't know what to do about it, he started to holler too. We came back in to see him straight-armed and mock-sobbing with the baby. When asked, he responded "I dunno man, just seemed like the little feller needed someone to cry with him."
So, we were all ourselves and it was fun to see all the ole peeps. However, I decided that although I used to be known as a wild one in my group, I don't think I can keep up anymore! I don't know when it happened, but drinking is hard now. I went out barhopping with some of my oldest and closest friends and then followed it up with a visit to a friends house for drinks. The next day everyone else was up and rearing to go and I was curled in a ball with my shades on growling and whomever was stupid enough to try and interact with me.
There was also Snakes on a Plane, which was not all I'd hoped. I hoped it would be campy + big budget. There have been discussions that you can't do "camp" but I don't agree. Evil Dead is a testament to purposeful camp. This should have been Evil Dead with a million dollar budget. Instead, it was kind of like a badly directed porno with snakes. Well, when I put it that way, I realize it wasn't nearly that good. Anyhow, we snuck booze in for old times sake and sat in a row, passing vodka and orange juice up and down, ensuring that we all share in whatever horrible illness one of us may have.
Now, it's time to figure out if that stuff in the hall is really urine. I love moving into new spaces.
Friday, August 18, 2006
I Would Like you Better if You Had a Job
It's nice to be home. My life is completely in dissaray everywhere else, but everyone here is happy to see me, I have sweet pups with which to play, there's no schedule, and the weather is lovely (but hot). It's awesome not to be working for a couple weeks. A gal can get used to this.
I spent yesterday with my best friend, Climber. We walked up a (small) mountain, went rock climbing, had sub-par sushi with her longtime boy, and then had cosmos with two of her friends (a couple) whom I've not met but really enjoyed. The woman is a recent breast cancer survivor who was climbing 5.12 routes two weeks after her chemo. And she makes a mean cosmo. This put me to shame. I wasn't even walking (and by walk I mean across a room) until 4 weeks after my surgery! And my cosmos suck. But my mojitos rock - so there!! We teased each other mightily and had a lot of laughs comparing hospital atrocities. Oh - and we saw the space shuttle! Climber kept peeping "holy cow there's people up there." It's nice to be around someone else who says Holy Cow. We talked until late late in the night about life and struggles and gave much-needed advice. She's a good one, and I think I'll keep her.
It's always funny to go climbing with her because she's such a little hot shot. And I do mean little. As soon as she introduced me as the "best friend", I was given free access, free gear, and a (very handsome) spotter for some bouldering problems I had no business doing. I felt like I had shown up at the Sultan's palace with much gold to trade. Had I not been with her I MAY have gotten a cursory nod. Instead, I scored shoes and shirts and many many handshakes. Heh. Of course none of this helped me climb any better. I spent the better part of the jaunt playing with The Mighty Wonderdog (her loyal pup) and a local 5 year old boy. My hands are swollen and pink and my forearms feel like someone blew air into them. She didn't even break a sweat. Plus, I still get scared. I do it, but I get scared, and that means my palms get clammy, and that means the grip gets worse. The last thing I need is something to hurt the grip-factor even more so than my weak-ass tiny little hands do on their own. But my climbing wasn't terrible considering I hadn't done it in years. I've been nervous about it because of my neck, but since I got the clean bill o' health, that DON'T MATTA NO MO! My neck is no longer an achilles heel - something that is slowly finally starting to sink in.
C-unit is forever humble, but she's not quite able to hide her progress in the climbing world any longer. I'm pretty thrilled for her because companies are finally picking up on this and she's getting her dream: getting paid to climb. The upcoming season promises trips to south France, South Africa, and all over the country to climb - just for wearing someone's shirt. Sounds good to me!
She's also about to finish up nursing school. As usual, she's a few months ahead of me. She's going in to Infant Intensive Care Unit. She told me that when they come out, she gives them a pep talk and tells them they have to do something cool with their lives. They normally respond with an affirmative drool and hiccup and she moves on. Awesome. Although I am never meant for that kind of work, I felt more than a little curious about how that must be. I'm certainly glad she's doing it and not me! Some of those babies are only 23 weeks old - I can't imagine being responsible for that kind of life. I'll stick to Lexis, thankyouverymuch.
I'm now enjoying a down moment in a coffee shop, where I ran into an old friend who is also doing great work with restoring housing communities in low-income areas of Atown. Bless his big heart. I got his card and caught him up on all my girls - a monologue which resulted in many chuckles and nods. I guess we're all pretty predictable - I'd like to think we're just all where we're supposed to be.
I spent yesterday with my best friend, Climber. We walked up a (small) mountain, went rock climbing, had sub-par sushi with her longtime boy, and then had cosmos with two of her friends (a couple) whom I've not met but really enjoyed. The woman is a recent breast cancer survivor who was climbing 5.12 routes two weeks after her chemo. And she makes a mean cosmo. This put me to shame. I wasn't even walking (and by walk I mean across a room) until 4 weeks after my surgery! And my cosmos suck. But my mojitos rock - so there!! We teased each other mightily and had a lot of laughs comparing hospital atrocities. Oh - and we saw the space shuttle! Climber kept peeping "holy cow there's people up there." It's nice to be around someone else who says Holy Cow. We talked until late late in the night about life and struggles and gave much-needed advice. She's a good one, and I think I'll keep her.
It's always funny to go climbing with her because she's such a little hot shot. And I do mean little. As soon as she introduced me as the "best friend", I was given free access, free gear, and a (very handsome) spotter for some bouldering problems I had no business doing. I felt like I had shown up at the Sultan's palace with much gold to trade. Had I not been with her I MAY have gotten a cursory nod. Instead, I scored shoes and shirts and many many handshakes. Heh. Of course none of this helped me climb any better. I spent the better part of the jaunt playing with The Mighty Wonderdog (her loyal pup) and a local 5 year old boy. My hands are swollen and pink and my forearms feel like someone blew air into them. She didn't even break a sweat. Plus, I still get scared. I do it, but I get scared, and that means my palms get clammy, and that means the grip gets worse. The last thing I need is something to hurt the grip-factor even more so than my weak-ass tiny little hands do on their own. But my climbing wasn't terrible considering I hadn't done it in years. I've been nervous about it because of my neck, but since I got the clean bill o' health, that DON'T MATTA NO MO! My neck is no longer an achilles heel - something that is slowly finally starting to sink in.
C-unit is forever humble, but she's not quite able to hide her progress in the climbing world any longer. I'm pretty thrilled for her because companies are finally picking up on this and she's getting her dream: getting paid to climb. The upcoming season promises trips to south France, South Africa, and all over the country to climb - just for wearing someone's shirt. Sounds good to me!
She's also about to finish up nursing school. As usual, she's a few months ahead of me. She's going in to Infant Intensive Care Unit. She told me that when they come out, she gives them a pep talk and tells them they have to do something cool with their lives. They normally respond with an affirmative drool and hiccup and she moves on. Awesome. Although I am never meant for that kind of work, I felt more than a little curious about how that must be. I'm certainly glad she's doing it and not me! Some of those babies are only 23 weeks old - I can't imagine being responsible for that kind of life. I'll stick to Lexis, thankyouverymuch.
I'm now enjoying a down moment in a coffee shop, where I ran into an old friend who is also doing great work with restoring housing communities in low-income areas of Atown. Bless his big heart. I got his card and caught him up on all my girls - a monologue which resulted in many chuckles and nods. I guess we're all pretty predictable - I'd like to think we're just all where we're supposed to be.
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Alfred Hitchcock Stole Every Thought I Ever Had!!!
Hehe, sorry, I'm still on my Simpsons kick. That's what the raving derlelict in the Bart's Soul episode is screaming about - how A.H. stole every thought he's ever had. I had to rewind it and watch it again. The best is that there's someone else out there who's on the same kick - and even (almost) on the same episode! It's good to feel part of Team Simpson, even if it's super long distance.
Speaking of Teams, I am housed again! Whoot! I'm livin with Montana and Idaho again, which is freakin' awesome, in a swanktastic rowhouse. The house is gorgeous and the company's even hotter. I feel much better about living in those neighborhoods with some tough chicas by my side. I am officially psyched.
I'm gonna start packing tonight. And apparently, I gotta find a good pic of myself. Squint.
Speaking of Teams, I am housed again! Whoot! I'm livin with Montana and Idaho again, which is freakin' awesome, in a swanktastic rowhouse. The house is gorgeous and the company's even hotter. I feel much better about living in those neighborhoods with some tough chicas by my side. I am officially psyched.
I'm gonna start packing tonight. And apparently, I gotta find a good pic of myself. Squint.
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Yay for Birthdays!!
Guess what today is?
It's RJ McCaffery's (aka the Scoplaw's) BIRTHDAY!
Although I'm sure he was highly annoyed at my morning songs, I bet he'd be thrilled if you stopped by and wished him well!
Whoot!
It's RJ McCaffery's (aka the Scoplaw's) BIRTHDAY!
Although I'm sure he was highly annoyed at my morning songs, I bet he'd be thrilled if you stopped by and wished him well!
Whoot!
Sunday, August 06, 2006
House Hunting in DC
Option 1: Nice house in safe neighborhood. Cute Cuban gay man living in seperate apartment on lower floor. Completely awkward room with no closet. Really expensive utilities. Will have the space to escape from DC and the law. Will probably be isolated from most social activities.
Option 2: Incredible house with gorgeous space (bare brick walls, huge windows, wood detailing, fire places, spiral staircase). On nice block in Sketchtown USA. Will be close to all things DC city-oriented. And super close to law school. Will consider buying a bodyguard.
All other options are far worse than this. Sigh.
Option 2: Incredible house with gorgeous space (bare brick walls, huge windows, wood detailing, fire places, spiral staircase). On nice block in Sketchtown USA. Will be close to all things DC city-oriented. And super close to law school. Will consider buying a bodyguard.
All other options are far worse than this. Sigh.
Thursday, August 03, 2006
Perfect Summer Moment
It's 100 degrees, I'm drinking Coronas, working on my BRAND NEW BIKE, and listening to Reel Big Fish.
Holy cow I love summer.
Woah. Except that I have absolutely no idea what the heck I'm doing.
When in doubt, take it further apart!!!
Holy cow I love summer.
Woah. Except that I have absolutely no idea what the heck I'm doing.
When in doubt, take it further apart!!!
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Leaps off Small Buildings in a Single Bound
So the company hike was today. I am still currently Lyme-riddled and being treated with medication that is making me both nauseous and light-sensitive. So I went. The other option was working, and *really* who does that???
Not me.
Anyhow, it was a great time! We hiked a slow easy shady trail to a water hole and swam about. I was a bit woozy, but I did ok. And even in my state, I was still the only chica to jump off the high rock. SUCH a disappointment!!
First the youngest guy intern jumped off, and seeing him do it, I soon followed. Then another guy intern and two of the guy staff attorneys followed. It wasn't a tremendous jump, but it was scary. We hollered and cheered and a good time was had by all, but none of the other girls would do it despite my insistent chiding. So I had to do it again.
By this point, ole Lymey was kickin' in and I had to sit out for a while and rest. Unfortunately, we left soon after that. And went back to work. Where I was then unproductive for another hour and a half and then finally finished up a memo I've been chewing like so much cud.
But I hate it when girls get all whiny and high-pitched with the "Guuuuuuuys, I don't knoooooow." JUST JUMP! Sorry, but if a guy does that he gets made fun of for months and if a girl does that it's totally acceptable. And we're all supposed to be tough environmental warrior women. Right?
Right?
It may be slightly unfair of me to bring my rules upon others, but I have a water/jump rule. If I'm scared to do it, then it means I have to. That's my rule plain and simple (but it only applies to jumping from heights into water!!). It started in college when my group of friends began waterfall seeking on a weekly basis. Most of them were river rats, so it made sense. We went to some pretty big waterfalls - and it always involved a jump. At first I was really afraid, but I realized that it was kind of ridiculous because no one ever got hurt. It was just the jump I was afraid of and it sort of became philosophical. Facing your fears and being a stronger person and what not. Then there was Greece, where the cliffs are plentiful and the ocean is deep. I ended up doing a lot of cliff jumping there and I became even more entrenched in my philosophy.
There have been times where I've had to sit at a precipice long enough to watch the sun move in the sky - but I've never climbed down, and I've never gotten hurt. Sometimes a little ouchy when it hits, but that's about it. The waterfalls are never painful because the water is soft and aerated...except Courthouse falls. The ocean is not quite as forgiving. A long jump onto a flat ocean is gonna SMACK no matter how much you point your toes or clench your... well, you get the picture.
Well anyway, I guess it's become a slight pet peeve of mine when NO other women will jump besides me. It's never a gender issue until that very moment. If more than one woman jumps, then everyone is jumpingyay. But if I'm the only one, suddenly I'm a tomboy and the men spend the rest of the day calling me "bro." Dude, I'm not your bro. Just sayin'.
Well, despite my complaining, it was really fun to go play in a river. Definitely my favorite past time in the whole world.
Not me.
Anyhow, it was a great time! We hiked a slow easy shady trail to a water hole and swam about. I was a bit woozy, but I did ok. And even in my state, I was still the only chica to jump off the high rock. SUCH a disappointment!!
First the youngest guy intern jumped off, and seeing him do it, I soon followed. Then another guy intern and two of the guy staff attorneys followed. It wasn't a tremendous jump, but it was scary. We hollered and cheered and a good time was had by all, but none of the other girls would do it despite my insistent chiding. So I had to do it again.
By this point, ole Lymey was kickin' in and I had to sit out for a while and rest. Unfortunately, we left soon after that. And went back to work. Where I was then unproductive for another hour and a half and then finally finished up a memo I've been chewing like so much cud.
But I hate it when girls get all whiny and high-pitched with the "Guuuuuuuys, I don't knoooooow." JUST JUMP! Sorry, but if a guy does that he gets made fun of for months and if a girl does that it's totally acceptable. And we're all supposed to be tough environmental warrior women. Right?
Right?
It may be slightly unfair of me to bring my rules upon others, but I have a water/jump rule. If I'm scared to do it, then it means I have to. That's my rule plain and simple (but it only applies to jumping from heights into water!!). It started in college when my group of friends began waterfall seeking on a weekly basis. Most of them were river rats, so it made sense. We went to some pretty big waterfalls - and it always involved a jump. At first I was really afraid, but I realized that it was kind of ridiculous because no one ever got hurt. It was just the jump I was afraid of and it sort of became philosophical. Facing your fears and being a stronger person and what not. Then there was Greece, where the cliffs are plentiful and the ocean is deep. I ended up doing a lot of cliff jumping there and I became even more entrenched in my philosophy.
There have been times where I've had to sit at a precipice long enough to watch the sun move in the sky - but I've never climbed down, and I've never gotten hurt. Sometimes a little ouchy when it hits, but that's about it. The waterfalls are never painful because the water is soft and aerated...except Courthouse falls. The ocean is not quite as forgiving. A long jump onto a flat ocean is gonna SMACK no matter how much you point your toes or clench your... well, you get the picture.
Well anyway, I guess it's become a slight pet peeve of mine when NO other women will jump besides me. It's never a gender issue until that very moment. If more than one woman jumps, then everyone is jumpingyay. But if I'm the only one, suddenly I'm a tomboy and the men spend the rest of the day calling me "bro." Dude, I'm not your bro. Just sayin'.
Well, despite my complaining, it was really fun to go play in a river. Definitely my favorite past time in the whole world.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Bad Lawyering
"...True, the driving of a bulldozer through a stream will disturb the soil on the stream bottom and banks, but so will children wading barefoot in the stream, horses and cattle crossing a stream and trout fishermen wading in the stream. None of these activities have ever been declared to be a violation of the Clean Water Act, and no case defendant is aware of has ever held that simply driving a bulldozer through a stream is a violation. Further, there was no use of a "point source" in the present case because the "soil and natural debris . . . simply fell into the stream[.]" " Doc. 7, p.1
Defendant's brief in Tungett v. Papierski, 2006 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 1984, (E.D. Tn. 2006).
and the court's response?
"Defendant's spin notwithstanding, the above-cited portions of the complaint make clear that plaintiffs' allegations go beyond falling leaves, trout fishermen, wayward cattle, or "driving a bulldozer"...Further, a bulldozer is a "point source." See Borden Ranch P'ship, 261 F.3d at 815; Avoyelles Sportsmen's League, Inc. v. Marsh, 715 F.2d 897, 922 (5th Cir. 1983); Nat'l Ass'n of Home Builders, 311 F. Supp. 2d at 93 n.1; United States v. Lambert, 915 F. Supp. 797, 802 n.8 (S.D. W. Va. 1996); United States v. Weisman, 489 F. Supp. 1331, 1337 (M.D. Fla. 1980)."
hehehe. That'll learn 'im.
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