So this post is seriously overdue. A few Saturdays ago, I was given a wonderful opportunity to see Justices Scalia and Alito speak on a panel on Judicial Independence. Along with the Justices, there was former Western District of Texas Judge William Sessions (current partner at Holland and Knight and on the ABA committee on judicial independence) and current Maryland Court of Appeals Judge Lynne Battaglia (the only woman). The panel was moderated by one of my heroes and current professors, Judge Francis Allegra on the Court of Federal Claims. Unfortunately for me and everyone else there, Judge Allegra merely lead the conversation; he did not contribute (as is the trend for moderators). I was terribly disappointed about that because he’s extremely intelligent and has a great perspective.
Overall, I was totally annoyed at the panel Everyone just bowed to Scalito while they spewed horrible lies and dirty dirty words from their mouths. Indeed, my ears began to bleed an hour into the “panel.” And by “panel,” I mean “two hours of the Scalia show, with Alito as backup and former Judge Sessions as the comic (read: insanity) relief.”
I'm not so sure about Judge Battalgia because she essentially giggled nervously at everything the Justices posed. That's not entirely true, she answered questions intelligently and gracefully represented the state-side of the issues. Not surprisingly, she did not directly counter the Justices. I really don't know enough about her to know whether she agrees with them or not, but the results effectively made her "one of them" for purposes of the panel. Judge Sessions was effectively insane. He spent his time bemoaning the loss of the good ole days of the 1950s. When our courts weren’t overrun with all this “crime” and people knew how to be gentlemen. One of the only moments where I was glad for Scalia’s presence was when he openly mocked Sessions for continuously referring to conversations with his “Daddy” in Texas. This man, by the way, is in his seventies.
To put it simply, I was absolutely disgusted. Woah! What a surprise that *I* would be disgusted at a panel lead by the most conservative men on our Court on Judge's societal role. When faced with issues of our Constitutional goals for an independent judiciary, the Justices continuously referred to the fact that they didn’t think their cost of living increases were consistent enough. I’m sorry, but six digit salaries means that you no longer have the option to complain about your money. I don’t care how many children you have to educate. The other complaint was often (constantly) raised by Alito that people were saying inappropriate things about the members of the Judiciary. He referred to the press and how the internet said very upsetting things about him and his family.
But that's not why you're reading this. I just made you read my rant before we got to the fun stuff. Kind of how malls only put escalators and elevators on opposite ends in hopes that you will have to wade through the myriad of Be-A-Tramp-For-$25 stores and fall into the impulse buying zone. Welcome to my impulse-buying-zone. All Lyco thoughts and beliefs half off.
Seriously though, the fun part of all this was finding out that Justice Samuel Anthony Alito Googles himself (Alito Alito). Who ADMITS that they google themselves? I mean, I guess everyone does – but to openly admit it and say that he reads – and is bothered by – what folks say, is just… well, it’s just asking for it. And what's Alito, is that Samuel Alito was clearly and obviously extremely disAlitoed by the negative things being Alito-ed about him and his family Alito. He just kept coming Alito to it. He hated it when people Alito-ed about his family. The problem is that Alito was Alito-ing to us about his family. For example, he explained that his dear ole ma had a thing for watching the Alitonoon Judge t.v. shows. Specifically, he listed Judge Judy, but he said that there were others. I Alito that the mother of Justice Samuel Anthony Alito’s mother watches the 4:00 TBS judge shoes. Go mama Alito! Oh yeah, and when he nods, Alito looks just like a bobble-head.
Alito. Samuel Anthony Alito. Justice Samuel Anthony Alito’s family.
I can't imagine WHY people in this country would be saying BAD things about a justice who wanted to create a requirement that women must notify their spouses before having an abortion. Because, you know, that's not a controversial political issue that about which people feel strongly or anything.
Now, let me PAUSE here and say that I think Alito has done some pretty darn good things as well. Okay, now I’m going to continue with the impulse-buying-zone:
It's absolutely appalling to me that people (i.e. Justices of the Supreme Court) can believe the decisions they are making are somehow hermetically sealed intellectual documents. We are talking about two men with radical views of the Constitution that have very real and far reaching consequences. We are not discussing issues that are esoteric jurisprudential questions and can be answered simply by looking at a dictionary and the exact words listed in the Constitution. There is both meaning and context to these issues – a precedent firmly established by our Court. To pretend that Scalito is deciding these things independent of his own view of rights and liberties is ridiculous. Scalia said more than once that "the word abortion is not in the Constitution." Now, this post IS NOT about abortion, and I am not advocating one way or another here, but what I AM saying is that the only way to see that there is no right a citizen is given unless the word attached to that right actually appears in the Constitution does not stem out of an independent and external interpretive tool. The amount of false consciousness it requires to actually believe that absolutely necessitates those who have a different "independent and external interpretive tool" - namely, the kind that admits and realizes that coming to rationalizations and decisions like that has an absolute attachment to the self- to speak out against them.
Look, my point is that you can't support certain policies and approaches and that not reflect aspects of yourself. It's impossible. Your "policies" have real world consequences and you are responsible for those consequences. I agree with Scalia that you can have a civil conversation with someone even if you agree with them on a fundamental level (hell, Scott and I are friends). But it's an entirely different ball game to ask the public to pretend that these Justices are just "interpreting the Constitution" and not implementing their own policy beliefs. Ridiculous. And on top of being ridiculous, it’s bull shit. Scalia, the man who is “simply” interpreting the Constitution, is the same man that used an antiquated dictionary definition of water in Rapponos and Carabell because the modern dictionary defined it in a way that went against his justifications. And when we bring up the issue of independent judiciaries, their only response is “give us more money” and “don’t hurt our feelings.” Give me a break.
Alito.
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Saturday, October 28, 2006
Friday, October 27, 2006
If you hold the head steady I'll milk the cow
Last night was the EJF Auction. I'll come back later and post pictures. I have closeups of men's rears in tight purple pleather. And my eyes didn't even bleed as I took the picture. Even though he was flexing. You can't escape it, I'm posting the picture GIANTLY.
I am aware that giantly isn't a word thanks.
Section 3, being the most supreme and perfect section of all of them, and our year, the best and creme de la creme of all things involving law school, won a bid for a box at the auction. Where we received beer service by.. here it comes.. beer boys. Yes, thusly they were much like cabana boys only in seventies outfits and with cheap beer instead of cocktails. And replace the word "cabana" with the phrase "grimy auditorium in the basement of the law school." But whatever. They brought us beer. And it was free. Free beer that is brought to you. By men entitled thusly with the words "beer" and "boy."I'm ok with this. I am, in fact, looking into getting this service at home. Updates on that as they come.
So I lost a bid. A group of 8 of us authorized me to spend $600 - then upped it to $800. So I bid $950. Yeah. Anyway, we lost. The beer boys offered to throw themselves into the funeral pyre of my lost bid, but we held back their taught bodies and begged them not to waste their youth, even though it was a worthy cause - serving us beer was far more important.
The beer boys also brought pizza. Lots of pizza. And I drunkenly ate said pizza. Because beer = piggy Lyco. And then we went to a horrid little bar up the street where I watched the baseball game in drunken horror. I actually watched two baseball games in horror because by that point I was seeing everything in doubles. This would have been helpful if the beer boys were still around, but instead, just horrible Cardinals everywhere I looked.
Tonight the revelries continue as I reveal my identity as a Pirate (yar!). I know I have hinted at my affinities for pirates, but it is time I was open with my true self. Law school is just a clever rouse to help me escape the many countries and governments that list the Dreaded Pirate Lyco on their most wanted lists. Yes, plural. Lists. Lists's. Although it is doubtful that beer boys will be there, I can always hope. Pirates require beer boys. or wenches. Wenches would do in a pinch.
I am aware that giantly isn't a word thanks.
Section 3, being the most supreme and perfect section of all of them, and our year, the best and creme de la creme of all things involving law school, won a bid for a box at the auction. Where we received beer service by.. here it comes.. beer boys. Yes, thusly they were much like cabana boys only in seventies outfits and with cheap beer instead of cocktails. And replace the word "cabana" with the phrase "grimy auditorium in the basement of the law school." But whatever. They brought us beer. And it was free. Free beer that is brought to you. By men entitled thusly with the words "beer" and "boy."I'm ok with this. I am, in fact, looking into getting this service at home. Updates on that as they come.
So I lost a bid. A group of 8 of us authorized me to spend $600 - then upped it to $800. So I bid $950. Yeah. Anyway, we lost. The beer boys offered to throw themselves into the funeral pyre of my lost bid, but we held back their taught bodies and begged them not to waste their youth, even though it was a worthy cause - serving us beer was far more important.
The beer boys also brought pizza. Lots of pizza. And I drunkenly ate said pizza. Because beer = piggy Lyco. And then we went to a horrid little bar up the street where I watched the baseball game in drunken horror. I actually watched two baseball games in horror because by that point I was seeing everything in doubles. This would have been helpful if the beer boys were still around, but instead, just horrible Cardinals everywhere I looked.
Tonight the revelries continue as I reveal my identity as a Pirate (yar!). I know I have hinted at my affinities for pirates, but it is time I was open with my true self. Law school is just a clever rouse to help me escape the many countries and governments that list the Dreaded Pirate Lyco on their most wanted lists. Yes, plural. Lists. Lists's. Although it is doubtful that beer boys will be there, I can always hope. Pirates require beer boys. or wenches. Wenches would do in a pinch.
If you hold the head steady I'll milk the cow
Last night was the EJF Auction. I'll come back later and post pictures. I have closeups of men's rears in tight purple pleather. And my eyes didn't even bleed as I took the picture. Even though he was flexing. You can't escape it, I'm posting the picture GIANTLY.
I am aware that giantly isn't a word thanks.
Section 3, being the most supreme and perfect section of all of them, and our year, the best and creme de la creme of all things involving law school, won a bid for a box at the auction. Where we received beer service by.. here it comes.. beer boys. Yes, thusly they were much like cabana boys only in seventies outfits and with cheap beer instead of cocktails. And replace the word "cabana" with the phrase "grimy auditorium in the basement of the law school." But whatever. They brought us beer. And it was free. Free beer that is brought to you. By men entitled thusly with the words "beer" and "boy."I'm ok with this. I am, in fact, looking into getting this service at home. Updates on that as they come.
So I lost a bid. A group of 8 of us authorized me to spend $600 - then upped it to $800. So I bid $950. Yeah. Anyway, we lost. The beer boys offered to throw themselves into the funeral pyre of my lost bid, but we held back their taught bodies and begged them not to waste their youth, even though it was a worthy cause - serving me beer for loss consolation was far more important.
The beer boys also brought pizza. Lots of pizza. And I drunkenly ate said pizza. Because beer = piggy Lyco. And then we went to a horrid little bar up the street where I watched the baseball game in drunken horror. I actually watched two baseball games in horror because by that point I was seeing everything in doubles. This would have been helpful if the beer boys were still around, but instead, just horrible Cardinals everywhere I looked.
Tonight the revelries continue as I reveal my identity as a Pirate (yar!). I know I have hinted at my affinities for pirates, but it is time I was open with my true self. Law school is just a clever rouse to help me escape the many countries and governments that list the Dreaded Pirate Lyco on their most wanted lists. Yes, plural. Lists. Lists's. Although it is doubtful that beer boys will be there, I can always hope. Pirates require beer boys. or wenches. Wenches would do in a pinch.
I am aware that giantly isn't a word thanks.
Section 3, being the most supreme and perfect section of all of them, and our year, the best and creme de la creme of all things involving law school, won a bid for a box at the auction. Where we received beer service by.. here it comes.. beer boys. Yes, thusly they were much like cabana boys only in seventies outfits and with cheap beer instead of cocktails. And replace the word "cabana" with the phrase "grimy auditorium in the basement of the law school." But whatever. They brought us beer. And it was free. Free beer that is brought to you. By men entitled thusly with the words "beer" and "boy."I'm ok with this. I am, in fact, looking into getting this service at home. Updates on that as they come.
So I lost a bid. A group of 8 of us authorized me to spend $600 - then upped it to $800. So I bid $950. Yeah. Anyway, we lost. The beer boys offered to throw themselves into the funeral pyre of my lost bid, but we held back their taught bodies and begged them not to waste their youth, even though it was a worthy cause - serving me beer for loss consolation was far more important.
The beer boys also brought pizza. Lots of pizza. And I drunkenly ate said pizza. Because beer = piggy Lyco. And then we went to a horrid little bar up the street where I watched the baseball game in drunken horror. I actually watched two baseball games in horror because by that point I was seeing everything in doubles. This would have been helpful if the beer boys were still around, but instead, just horrible Cardinals everywhere I looked.
Tonight the revelries continue as I reveal my identity as a Pirate (yar!). I know I have hinted at my affinities for pirates, but it is time I was open with my true self. Law school is just a clever rouse to help me escape the many countries and governments that list the Dreaded Pirate Lyco on their most wanted lists. Yes, plural. Lists. Lists's. Although it is doubtful that beer boys will be there, I can always hope. Pirates require beer boys. or wenches. Wenches would do in a pinch.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
A Moment of Class
My professor speaking about Dalehite v. United States (1953):
“So we have these two ships next to each other in the harbor. One ship is full of ammonium nitrate and the other is full of sulpher. We have a word for that; it’s called a BOMB.”
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
A Message for the 2Ls
My good friend Paleobiology has a really really good post on life as a 2L without callbacks. He's a 3L (with me) now and the article is lovely and (I think) helpful. This blog post was also printed in our school newspaper, which means that the honesty and openness he had in the post has all that much more meaning. In the interest of joining him, I want to write a momentary bit on that, with the understanding that you should definitely hear what he has to say.
As a 2L, I did EIW. Some of you remember the .... slightly explitave nature of the posts I wrote whilst said interviewing. While Paleo seemed to feel that the afterburn from EIW was the more stressful part, and I agree with him, I don't agree that EIW was not stressful. I seem to remember that it was incredibley stressful and emotionally draining. But I am a really good interview for the most part, and I had that going for me. Now, out of my interviews - I think I had somewhere in the neighborhood of 20 - I got 3 callbacks. At the time, my GPA was 3.01, something I was actually pretty proud of given the fact that I started 1L year with a broken neck and ended 1L year with my husband leaving via quarter-life crisis and a lot of evil horribleness. But none of the 3 interviews turned into a job offer. I did, however, have an entire refridgerator covered in rejection letters. I felt pretty stupid.
Now here's my point: I didn't go to law school to work at a firm and I know it. I just wanted the money and a chance to see if it was something I could do and be happy. Instead, I worked at a nonprofit environmental defense firm and spent my summer on a Supreme Court Case. Freakin cool. The second I get out of the firm world, I suddenly have opportunities. Is that because the GPA requirements are lower? Oh, most definitely. But is there more to it? Probably. I think my career is geared towards public service and nerdity (i.e. academics) and that's easily recognizable.
So that puts me in the category of jobless 3L. I applied to some firms early on. Again with the rejections. But now I'm applying to a lot of fellowships and govt jobs. To which I am not receiving a lot of rejections. Yet. But I am feeling way happier about my job search than when I was feeling oppressed under the rejecting thumb of the BIG FIRM.
Now I'm not saying AT ALL that working for a firm is bad. Had I had the opportunity, I would have liked to explore it. I mean, I would never do transactions work - I'd rather die a thousand deaths - but I wouldn't mind getting my feet wet in a litigation department somewhere. But far more importantly is that I really have to listen when my guts grind at the thought of firm work but my heart explodes at the thought of some of the jobs for which I am applying now. If you're not like that, and your soul brightens at the thought of firm work, you'll find it. You have to remember, the only firms I applied to were Big Firms. No small or medium, no boutique, etc. Firms may lie about it on their website, but they are pretty clear in interviews that they want people as defined by their criteria who also have decent work personalities. If you don't cut the mustard, it doesn't mean you aren't a successful person, it just means you don't fit that one narrow narrow narrow subset of human experience required to get those jobs.
Ok, go read Paleo. It's much better.
As a 2L, I did EIW. Some of you remember the .... slightly explitave nature of the posts I wrote whilst said interviewing. While Paleo seemed to feel that the afterburn from EIW was the more stressful part, and I agree with him, I don't agree that EIW was not stressful. I seem to remember that it was incredibley stressful and emotionally draining. But I am a really good interview for the most part, and I had that going for me. Now, out of my interviews - I think I had somewhere in the neighborhood of 20 - I got 3 callbacks. At the time, my GPA was 3.01, something I was actually pretty proud of given the fact that I started 1L year with a broken neck and ended 1L year with my husband leaving via quarter-life crisis and a lot of evil horribleness. But none of the 3 interviews turned into a job offer. I did, however, have an entire refridgerator covered in rejection letters. I felt pretty stupid.
Now here's my point: I didn't go to law school to work at a firm and I know it. I just wanted the money and a chance to see if it was something I could do and be happy. Instead, I worked at a nonprofit environmental defense firm and spent my summer on a Supreme Court Case. Freakin cool. The second I get out of the firm world, I suddenly have opportunities. Is that because the GPA requirements are lower? Oh, most definitely. But is there more to it? Probably. I think my career is geared towards public service and nerdity (i.e. academics) and that's easily recognizable.
So that puts me in the category of jobless 3L. I applied to some firms early on. Again with the rejections. But now I'm applying to a lot of fellowships and govt jobs. To which I am not receiving a lot of rejections. Yet. But I am feeling way happier about my job search than when I was feeling oppressed under the rejecting thumb of the BIG FIRM.
Now I'm not saying AT ALL that working for a firm is bad. Had I had the opportunity, I would have liked to explore it. I mean, I would never do transactions work - I'd rather die a thousand deaths - but I wouldn't mind getting my feet wet in a litigation department somewhere. But far more importantly is that I really have to listen when my guts grind at the thought of firm work but my heart explodes at the thought of some of the jobs for which I am applying now. If you're not like that, and your soul brightens at the thought of firm work, you'll find it. You have to remember, the only firms I applied to were Big Firms. No small or medium, no boutique, etc. Firms may lie about it on their website, but they are pretty clear in interviews that they want people as defined by their criteria who also have decent work personalities. If you don't cut the mustard, it doesn't mean you aren't a successful person, it just means you don't fit that one narrow narrow narrow subset of human experience required to get those jobs.
Ok, go read Paleo. It's much better.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
SCOTUS' Serious's Activities'
Complete and unadulterated proof that if you end your possessive form of a singular noun ending with the letter s without an additional s after the apostrophe, you might as well be Justice Thomas, whom we all know is a narcoleptic facist. Or you could be the occasional Scalia - at least then you're occasionally funny at the expense of some minority group. You racist woman-hater. No, but seriously, only Souter is correct.
I've been touting the importance of the added s for years now, and I finally have the backing of someone besides my freshman year grammar prof (I'll always love you Prof. Freshman Grammar!). We may be in the minority Souter, but we'll always have Kansas's!
Thanks to Jes for that one.
I've been touting the importance of the added s for years now, and I finally have the backing of someone besides my freshman year grammar prof (I'll always love you Prof. Freshman Grammar!). We may be in the minority Souter, but we'll always have Kansas's!
Thanks to Jes for that one.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Welcome Lucas!
Yay! I am thrilled to announce the arrival of law baby number 2! Lucas Daniel! Kymberly was an awesome pregnant law student. She was in class until the very last minute and was always chipper and involved. It's been a lot of fun to be a part of their lives through this process, and I can't wait to meet Lucas. Except it'll be hard not to call him Bean! For the record, I knew it was gonna be a boy!!!
The only problem with this wonderful new arrival is that it means that I actually have to start taking really good notes in Litigation with the Federal Government - because I'm her notes person during maternity leave in that class. Gack!
Oh right. You suck live.
This is why keep gaining weight: last night, Jes and I found ourselves at the Matchbox after many a failed attempt at going to see Little Miss Sunshine. I really want to see that movie, but I feel like I can never make it work. I've tried numberless times to get to that movie, all failed. But anyway, I am certainly not complaining. I gorged myself. Gorged. Myself. But it was such awesomeness and amazingness. I've always wanted to go there! And there were plenty of Section 3ers out with similar ideas. Which was funny. Sometimes I think we are all of one mind. Sometimes not. But anyway, so there was much gorging and much talking. And then there was much music.
I discovered sometimes it's best to let your fantasies rule with respect to live music. I am a huge proponent of live music, but I've found that there are certain genres that just do not work live. Like anything ending in "hop." Trip hop and hip hop mostly. Now, there are groups that do it better than others. But for the most part, they are better listened to via a studio. I've been to three Portishead shows, and all of them blew me out of the water. Now there's a performance to match the voice. She's so angsty and troubled on stage. It's like it hurts her to touch the mic, and yet, she absolutely rocks in her performance. Based on this knowledge, Jes and I decided to find some clips of Lamb performing, since they have since broken up and I was feeling woeful that I had never gotten to see them live. Lamb, unlike Portishead, made me want to die. I am so happy that I never saw them live and went as long as I did thinking they were dark and sensual at all times. What the hell is wrong with the world that the voice of Lou Rhodes can come out of a perky British girl who looks like a younger more wholesome Laura Linney??? She was bouncing around on stage like an excited PLUR-touting psytrancer. I like my lusty women singers troubled at the very least. And while I'm not the biggest Radiohead fan, after seeing Thom Yorke perform live, it's all I can do to listen to the few songs I do like. You just want to hand him a pile or heroin and tell him to come back when he can sing. They all need to take a cue from Tricky and turn off all the lights and turn their backs to the audience. But so I hear, not even that tactic insures a good performace.
Similarly, I've rarely been to a hip hop show that I thought was worth the money. Even Aesop Rock who's music relies heavily on his own talents as a rapper and lyricist, fell prey to the awkward call and response crutches and monosyllabic crowd-builders. Tribe did a good job, as did Blackalicious. Beastie Boys also put on a good show, although the last time I saw them I was sorely disappointed. The point is more that the intricacies that go into a lot of hip hop songs don't translate well to live situations.
Now this kills me because these two genres make up a large portion of my musical interests. And while my more "Alternative" genres still tend to rock in concert (e.g. Cake, Soul Coughing, Ween) and my instrumental groups tend to be far far better in concert (e.g. Bela Fleck, MM&W, Robinella), and while I'll continue to go to the "lesser" live genres, I'm left wondering why the hell people need to act like tools on stage and ruin it for everyone.
Rant complete.
I discovered sometimes it's best to let your fantasies rule with respect to live music. I am a huge proponent of live music, but I've found that there are certain genres that just do not work live. Like anything ending in "hop." Trip hop and hip hop mostly. Now, there are groups that do it better than others. But for the most part, they are better listened to via a studio. I've been to three Portishead shows, and all of them blew me out of the water. Now there's a performance to match the voice. She's so angsty and troubled on stage. It's like it hurts her to touch the mic, and yet, she absolutely rocks in her performance. Based on this knowledge, Jes and I decided to find some clips of Lamb performing, since they have since broken up and I was feeling woeful that I had never gotten to see them live. Lamb, unlike Portishead, made me want to die. I am so happy that I never saw them live and went as long as I did thinking they were dark and sensual at all times. What the hell is wrong with the world that the voice of Lou Rhodes can come out of a perky British girl who looks like a younger more wholesome Laura Linney??? She was bouncing around on stage like an excited PLUR-touting psytrancer. I like my lusty women singers troubled at the very least. And while I'm not the biggest Radiohead fan, after seeing Thom Yorke perform live, it's all I can do to listen to the few songs I do like. You just want to hand him a pile or heroin and tell him to come back when he can sing. They all need to take a cue from Tricky and turn off all the lights and turn their backs to the audience. But so I hear, not even that tactic insures a good performace.
Similarly, I've rarely been to a hip hop show that I thought was worth the money. Even Aesop Rock who's music relies heavily on his own talents as a rapper and lyricist, fell prey to the awkward call and response crutches and monosyllabic crowd-builders. Tribe did a good job, as did Blackalicious. Beastie Boys also put on a good show, although the last time I saw them I was sorely disappointed. The point is more that the intricacies that go into a lot of hip hop songs don't translate well to live situations.
Now this kills me because these two genres make up a large portion of my musical interests. And while my more "Alternative" genres still tend to rock in concert (e.g. Cake, Soul Coughing, Ween) and my instrumental groups tend to be far far better in concert (e.g. Bela Fleck, MM&W, Robinella), and while I'll continue to go to the "lesser" live genres, I'm left wondering why the hell people need to act like tools on stage and ruin it for everyone.
Rant complete.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
3L Delusions
First of all, I got new running shoes! Yay!
The Saucony Hurricane. Yum. They're a stability shoe (I'm a serious over pronator) but not motion control - which was too much for me.
They feel light but supportive. I can't wait to try them out! Which brings me to something. I've been slacking off hard core. I mean, I'm getting stuff done, but only the absolute bare necessity.
I don't like that. That's not Lyco-esque, and it's making me unhappy with myself and thereby unhappy in general. So it must change. I think the job search is kind of sucking my soul from me, and that's hard. But it's not like I'm spending all my time doing it, it's more like it takes days worth of energy to build up to doing a job hunting task. Why is that?
But it is hard when you are surrounded by people who know what they're doing. And they're okay with the jobs, and they pay well, etc. etc. etc. There is a sense of freedom in that. I get a little swept up in that, and forget that I still have a lot to do.
Plus, I've been missing my garden really bad. It's weird not to be growing things. Now is when I should be closing my garden down, except for some greens and brassicas. It's hard to replace that gap in my life. Sigh. I just need my husband to be exceedingly rich so that I can just tend an enormous garden and cook. Yeah, I'll just let that one go now. You can stop laughing. Now.
Anyhow, there are things I want to be doing that I know will make me happy, but I need to be more self motivated. I'm starting by listening to Blackalicious' Nia, which everyone knows is the most positively motivating stuff out there. Even though I get stressed, I am happiest when I feel that I have things going on in my life that enrich me. Admittedly, I am spending more time hanging out with friends, which is very much on purpose and a wonderful priority. What I'm looking for is not added responsibility, it's added Lyco time, but structured. So given that, I'm going to start (SIGH) getting up earlier and structuring my time a little better.
I'm not sure what I was expecting my 3L year to be. My last year of high school was ridiculous and full of senioritis. My last year of college was ridiculous and full of drinking. 3L year is supposed to be laid back and fun, but that presumes that you are in that narrow spectrum of classic firm law. And it presumes that law school is merely a means to an end, and not something to be enjoyed for itself. I am not of either school. I may hate law school antics, but I love learning, and I love my community here, and I love D.C. I love having a schedule I make for myself, I love not having a job. That doesn't mean that I don't look forward to working, because I do. It just means that it's ridiculous to slack my way through my last year of school. It just seems to be the default culture, but it's not who I am. Good to know.
The Saucony Hurricane. Yum. They're a stability shoe (I'm a serious over pronator) but not motion control - which was too much for me.
They feel light but supportive. I can't wait to try them out! Which brings me to something. I've been slacking off hard core. I mean, I'm getting stuff done, but only the absolute bare necessity.
I don't like that. That's not Lyco-esque, and it's making me unhappy with myself and thereby unhappy in general. So it must change. I think the job search is kind of sucking my soul from me, and that's hard. But it's not like I'm spending all my time doing it, it's more like it takes days worth of energy to build up to doing a job hunting task. Why is that?
But it is hard when you are surrounded by people who know what they're doing. And they're okay with the jobs, and they pay well, etc. etc. etc. There is a sense of freedom in that. I get a little swept up in that, and forget that I still have a lot to do.
Plus, I've been missing my garden really bad. It's weird not to be growing things. Now is when I should be closing my garden down, except for some greens and brassicas. It's hard to replace that gap in my life. Sigh. I just need my husband to be exceedingly rich so that I can just tend an enormous garden and cook. Yeah, I'll just let that one go now. You can stop laughing. Now.
Anyhow, there are things I want to be doing that I know will make me happy, but I need to be more self motivated. I'm starting by listening to Blackalicious' Nia, which everyone knows is the most positively motivating stuff out there. Even though I get stressed, I am happiest when I feel that I have things going on in my life that enrich me. Admittedly, I am spending more time hanging out with friends, which is very much on purpose and a wonderful priority. What I'm looking for is not added responsibility, it's added Lyco time, but structured. So given that, I'm going to start (SIGH) getting up earlier and structuring my time a little better.
I'm not sure what I was expecting my 3L year to be. My last year of high school was ridiculous and full of senioritis. My last year of college was ridiculous and full of drinking. 3L year is supposed to be laid back and fun, but that presumes that you are in that narrow spectrum of classic firm law. And it presumes that law school is merely a means to an end, and not something to be enjoyed for itself. I am not of either school. I may hate law school antics, but I love learning, and I love my community here, and I love D.C. I love having a schedule I make for myself, I love not having a job. That doesn't mean that I don't look forward to working, because I do. It just means that it's ridiculous to slack my way through my last year of school. It just seems to be the default culture, but it's not who I am. Good to know.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
On Holding Your Own
I was looking for some long lost photos when I came across a very strange folder. I don't really know how it's made it from a disk made close to a decade ago into my computer now. The folder, among other things, included some documents from my sophomore year of college. During my sophomore year, I took a lot of writing courses. I did well in them, and was invited to attend two courses of my choice in the school's MFA program over. Now, this to me was the entrance to the land of milk and honey. I spent most of my time gawking and awestruck at the people teaching me and sitting around me. I was terrified of being a 20 year old college kid in an MFA program. Terrified. But fear tends to make me extremely determined. I tried harder in those courses than almost anything else I did in college.
So I wrote these response pieces. Lots of them. It was interesting to see how I gravitated without hesitation to writings on identity. I couldn't seem to stop myself. I can't even remember if I was super aware of how obviously focused I was on identity writing, but these papers made it clear. What's more is that they are good. I wrote a piece on comparing and contrasting the ways science fiction and magical realism address slavery in American culture. I was obviously reading some Octavia Butler at that time. But it was really well thought out. I mean, when I go back, I see some gigantic holes left - but I think I'd be disappointed if I did not (it would sad had I not learned anything more between then and now). Even given the progress I've made since then, I sat there skimming these analyses and feeling proud of my sophomore self. You could tell I was trying my damndest and putting a lot of time and effort into my responses. I want to go back to my younger self and give her a hug and tell her not to worry - that she's holding her own (for the record, my younger self, much like my current self, would never have listened).
By my junior year, I transitioned my major from creative writing to history; I decided I needed to understand the world around me before I could write about my experiences. I also knew that I wanted to go to law school, and I felt that more focus on our political history and structure would aid me in being a stronger lawyer. It has. But sometimes I regret the transition as a loss of a period where I could just focus on my writing - but it's pointless to spend time on an experience for which you are not ready. Plus, I was careful to stay immersed in the writing programs my school had to offer. The problem is that I also know that a part of me was afraid that ultimately, I couldn't hold my own. History was safe and easy. I loved it, I've always been a pretty good writer, and am still a damn good researcher. That's more than most historians right there. But creative writing was different. There was nothing to hide behind. I am an open perfectionist, and not in the helpful way - in a very destructive way. It's not something I can control, which is a shame. If I couldn't be the best at something, it's better to be second best at something that doesn't crush you. Which is essentially arrogant and cowardly. I do not pretend that those factors did not play a part in my move to history. Nothing specifically told me that as I made my transition, I just think it was quietly there in the background. However, my desire to know more about the world is earnest, and something of which I am proud. It makes me wonder how much I let fear dictate my decisions in life. But when I go back and read those pieces I wrote, I see now that those fears were groundless and to think otherwise denotes ridiculous expectations. When I see those responses, I see that I certainly held my own.
So I wrote these response pieces. Lots of them. It was interesting to see how I gravitated without hesitation to writings on identity. I couldn't seem to stop myself. I can't even remember if I was super aware of how obviously focused I was on identity writing, but these papers made it clear. What's more is that they are good. I wrote a piece on comparing and contrasting the ways science fiction and magical realism address slavery in American culture. I was obviously reading some Octavia Butler at that time. But it was really well thought out. I mean, when I go back, I see some gigantic holes left - but I think I'd be disappointed if I did not (it would sad had I not learned anything more between then and now). Even given the progress I've made since then, I sat there skimming these analyses and feeling proud of my sophomore self. You could tell I was trying my damndest and putting a lot of time and effort into my responses. I want to go back to my younger self and give her a hug and tell her not to worry - that she's holding her own (for the record, my younger self, much like my current self, would never have listened).
By my junior year, I transitioned my major from creative writing to history; I decided I needed to understand the world around me before I could write about my experiences. I also knew that I wanted to go to law school, and I felt that more focus on our political history and structure would aid me in being a stronger lawyer. It has. But sometimes I regret the transition as a loss of a period where I could just focus on my writing - but it's pointless to spend time on an experience for which you are not ready. Plus, I was careful to stay immersed in the writing programs my school had to offer. The problem is that I also know that a part of me was afraid that ultimately, I couldn't hold my own. History was safe and easy. I loved it, I've always been a pretty good writer, and am still a damn good researcher. That's more than most historians right there. But creative writing was different. There was nothing to hide behind. I am an open perfectionist, and not in the helpful way - in a very destructive way. It's not something I can control, which is a shame. If I couldn't be the best at something, it's better to be second best at something that doesn't crush you. Which is essentially arrogant and cowardly. I do not pretend that those factors did not play a part in my move to history. Nothing specifically told me that as I made my transition, I just think it was quietly there in the background. However, my desire to know more about the world is earnest, and something of which I am proud. It makes me wonder how much I let fear dictate my decisions in life. But when I go back and read those pieces I wrote, I see now that those fears were groundless and to think otherwise denotes ridiculous expectations. When I see those responses, I see that I certainly held my own.
Monday, October 16, 2006
Dear Heavily Intoxicated Man on the Bus,
Dear Heavily Intoxicated Man on the Bus,
Listen. I know life has been hard for you. And clearly you mistook that gin/rubbing alcohol for a plastic bottle of refreshing water. I can tell by the way you chugged it to finish it after the bus driver yelled at you to for bringing an open bottle on the bus. That's not your fault. That always happens to me when I've already had about 8 shots worth of booze - it's like it magically becomes water. And I'm the first to admit that the route to downtown involves a lot of potholes and jostling, and yes, they just turned on the heat on the buses. I understand that the warm atmosphere makes you feel comfortable and relaxed. That can be difficult when one is actively holding their pee. What I don't understand is how you became so relaxed that you urinated yourself and the seat across from me. This is why we use our muscle control. Or a bathroom. Or hell, that bottle you just finished. But no, you used your pants. And the bus seat. Across from me. And then gave a slurred laugh as the darkening seat caused women, children, and burly construction workers ran screaming toward the back of the bus. Yeah, I don't really get that part of it. And I guess you thought I would laugh when you said "that's gonna steeeeam when I get outside." But I didn't. I'm sorry, I just didn't find it funny. Was that a joke Mr. Heavily Intoxicated Man on the Bus? Because I thought it was a poorly chosen series of roughly English words. Could have been my mistake though - like your thinking that gin was water. Or like your thinking the bus seat was a bathroom. That actually only happens to you though. Thanks for that. It made my ride to school at 1:00 pm much much better. And by better, I mean horrific and scarring.
I hope you fall into a sewer,
Lyco
Listen. I know life has been hard for you. And clearly you mistook that gin/rubbing alcohol for a plastic bottle of refreshing water. I can tell by the way you chugged it to finish it after the bus driver yelled at you to for bringing an open bottle on the bus. That's not your fault. That always happens to me when I've already had about 8 shots worth of booze - it's like it magically becomes water. And I'm the first to admit that the route to downtown involves a lot of potholes and jostling, and yes, they just turned on the heat on the buses. I understand that the warm atmosphere makes you feel comfortable and relaxed. That can be difficult when one is actively holding their pee. What I don't understand is how you became so relaxed that you urinated yourself and the seat across from me. This is why we use our muscle control. Or a bathroom. Or hell, that bottle you just finished. But no, you used your pants. And the bus seat. Across from me. And then gave a slurred laugh as the darkening seat caused women, children, and burly construction workers ran screaming toward the back of the bus. Yeah, I don't really get that part of it. And I guess you thought I would laugh when you said "that's gonna steeeeam when I get outside." But I didn't. I'm sorry, I just didn't find it funny. Was that a joke Mr. Heavily Intoxicated Man on the Bus? Because I thought it was a poorly chosen series of roughly English words. Could have been my mistake though - like your thinking that gin was water. Or like your thinking the bus seat was a bathroom. That actually only happens to you though. Thanks for that. It made my ride to school at 1:00 pm much much better. And by better, I mean horrific and scarring.
I hope you fall into a sewer,
Lyco
Sunday, October 15, 2006
Travelling Alone as a Woman
Ok, first of all, strawberries and cream cake from the Love Café is why I love being alive right now. It’s a beautiful fall day, and I’ve biked here in my new soft cords and my favorite thrift-store sweater to soak in the sun in the bay window, sipping tea, and procrastinating as usual. Everyone is out wearing their favorite fall outfits, I’m surrounded by warm rich colors, cute tights with long jackets, and pleasing patterns paired with soft leather boots. I’m always so happy when fall arrives, and never very pleased when it shifts to winter. But for now, I'll enjoy this perfect moment and type away.
Willie is on a South African safari right now, and I'm awaiting more exciting posts on his trip! I'm in the middle of being bitten by a travel bug the size of a Montana rancher's sense of entitlement so it's nice to live vicariously through others. Hsuper is planning on going to multiple destinations in southeast Asia after the bar, about which I hope we'll hear. Other friends are travelling to Alaska, Italy, and Israel. Which is just killing me. I did a smart thing in my time before law school - I made travelling a priority. I think it's absolutely crucial to do that as much as possible before you have too much responsibility (i.e. a job and children). Well, I'm vastly aware that those positions are coming up soon in my life, and so I'm starting to feel the need to get some travel out.
For those who may be further ... back in their timeline than I, I figured I'd talk a little about some of my travels. It's really important if you want to travel alone as an American woman to get some of these basic ideas down. I wish I had Farmer to post on this, she travelled around Europe working on farms, which I think could be an alternative to my approach but still really good. I'll try and get an email out of her to post.
When I graduated from high school, I was fiercely independent. I had been living on and off out of the parental house since I was about 15. I got my first job when I was 14, something I'm super glad about. I had my own ideas about things and I never felt the need to explain my m.o. to others around me. I guess I can still be that way. Whereas everyone in my family was panicking that my life was going down the tube, I knew exactly what had to happen to get through.
One of things I needed was travel. But my vision of travel was different from many others around me. For one, most of my friends who were doing serious travelling were men - this meant that when they were encouraged by their friends and family, I was fretted over and dissuaded at every turn. For another, they had access to resources that I did not. My love of travel intersected with my love for music, and so my first travels were following a band. I worked odd high school jobs - a haunted house, a garden, a deli - and saved money. This started out small. 4-5 shows within a geographic area, pausing every few days to take in a sight, a hike, or a moment of culture. This soon grew to mini tours and then a full tour. When I did my full tour, I had about $800 saved up. I took $450 of this and invested in a t-shirt with three other friends so that I was paying about $4 per shirt. It was a picture of the band done in the style of Simpsons characters (for those of you who know me, this should come as no surprise). The shirts were a hit and I sold them for $15-$30 (depending on who the customer was). I made between $200-$500 a night as a vendor. The license was universal and cheap - a friend set up the "business." This money kept us going, paid for van repairs and any outside expenses, and let me come home with a bit of padding while I found a job. I firmly believed that I wanted to see my own country before I ran around to other countries, and so that's what I did. I shared a language, a basic culture, a currency, and an understanding of how the society worked - it was a good way to start. However, you keep a fast pace, so there isn't a lot of time to see the details. I saw the major sights though - the St. Louis Arch, the Everglades, Niagra Falls, the Great Lakes, the covered bridges in Vermont, and just about every major arena on the eastern side of the country. Heh. Plus, we had moments of exploration - a cabin in the Green Mountains in Vermont, an obscure night out in Toronto, random corners of Louisville. What's funny is that one of the guys I was travelling with is now also in law school. We only see each other once every couple years, but we're always very close because of that time.
This was the perfect time to travel with a group. There wasn't a lot of options over which we could disagree. It moved fast and we were inexperienced, so our joint talents and knowhow saved our collective butts on more than one occasion.
Anyway, I worked at a law firm for a while and then started college. It was about that time that I started getting twitchy again. This time, I planned a road trip by myself and drove for a week, stopping in random places with friends or friendlies, ending up with a trip to Key West. I knew I wanted to leave the country, but I thought it was important to try and travel by myself first... make sure I didn't end up in a ditch somewhere.
This was a perfect time for me to travel alone. I was doing something I already did within places I was decently comfortable. I was pushing some boundaries and taking some risks, but it was basically safe. When I came back in one piece, I decided to leave the country. I was in college, so I applied for a scholarship in England and got it. England was the first time I didn't have a job. The scholarship covered tuition, boarding at a flat on the outskirts of town, and a set fare to join a student group of our choosing (yes, they cost money). During orientation, it paid for two small day trips - one to London and one to Marlborough. Outside of that, it was up to me. Even though I had a scholarship, I didn't have a work visa, so I couldn't hold a job like I did in college. This meant I was living on the madre unit and thereby was living on the cheap and cheap. That ain't easy in England, especially when one desires travel. And to go party in London every weekend.
So I budgeted and took every chance I could to travel about. I saw a good deal of England and a good deal of France. France was a bit scary. It was my first trip without English and the girl I was supposed to meet basically disappeared in a train station. I was terrified, actually. But I found a hostel - ironically, the same hostel where Farmer would later stay when she found herself in Paris. After a few drinks and the realization that my French gets far better with booze and immersion, I was happy as a clam.
So although I wanted to travel alone, it kind of got thrown in my face. But something wonderful happened - I realized that I got to do what I wanted to do. I saw only what I wanted to see and spent as much time as I wanted to exploring something. What's more is that I found it to be immensely empowering to figure out that I could negotiate a foreign country by myself with finesse. That I was a good traveler. That I made friends wherever I went.
About 6 months after I got back into the US, I left again for Greece. This time, I stayed in Greece the whole time. I travelled over every part of it except for the northeast regions near Turkey - those weren't super safe at the time - plus I couldn't bear to leave the islands. I took a mini course to learn to speak and read basic Greek - not that I needed it much - and signed up to take a philosophy course out there. Although I spent a lot of time doing touristy stuff, I also spent a lot of time drinking on beaches. Greece has some seriously awesome islands and I ended up spending as much time on them as possible.
I travelled with a group, with a lover, and alone while out there. All three had their charms. The group I travelled with was pretty wild, and I probably would not have done as much partying had it not been for them. The interesting thing about the group travel in this case was that everyone was forming fast tight bonds, which is a bit weird. We all acted as though we had known one another for years. And there was a lot of toleration going on. When a couple of the girls brought back Greek men from the bars, we had to deal with it. When the guys got in a drunken fight on the street, we had to deal with it. Similarly, I could feel free to drink more than I normally would because I had a team of people watching over me. And I had people to get me to see things I normally would not, but am glad I did. Travelling with a lover is always fun (if they travel well, that is). Everything becomes romantic and sensual, all experiences call for idley reaching behind you and interlocking your fingers with someone you care for. It's definitely much more sharing than anything else. But travelling with a lover ironically affords you much less alone time than travelling with a group. While with a group, I went off exploring on my own, or journaling, or sleeping on the beach, etc. etc. When you travel with your partner, it's much more difficult to do that - especially if you don't have a hotel or something to call home base. This isn't a bad thing at all; it's just how it worked for me. The other side was that travelling alone allowed me access to other people that I never would have gotten otherwise. When I'm with a lover, I definitely interact with people outside of my sphere, just not as much. But when I'm with a group, it's even harder because it's so easy to stay within the circle established.
I've never been hurt or robbed in any of the places I've been. I might have been pickpocketed once, but then again, I might have just dropped my stuff. No telling. I have been cheated and threatened. Then again, I had all that happen to me in high school too, so there you have it.
If you choose to travel alone, I think the number one issue is trust. How do you explore and stay safe at the same time? Especially if you are a woman travelling alone? A lot of people told me to just keep to myself, but that made for miserable travels, both in state and out.
Do NOT waste your time by going out to see a bunch of rocks put in place my some ancient dead culture. I mean, that's cool and important, but the best part of travel is meeting people you never would have. As a woman, this means a few VERY obvious things like never ever go home with someone that could even possibly want to have sex with you. This is important no matter where you are. The closest I ever came to sexual assault was the owner of a hostel in northern France, so don't think that an "establishment" gets you out of that. I have stayed at people's houses I hardly knew, but that was because I met them and their children and ended up having long conversations with them to "know" that they were safe. Now, I know that people are not always what they seem, but it would be a shame to lock yourself out of those experiences because you think it's safer at a cockroach-ridden hostel. The family I stayed with had a huge flat that overlooked the Eiffel Tower. No way could I have afforded that on my own. They treated me to fancy dinners and let me use their bike. But - this also means that I did *not* go back to the apartment with the 3 boys who "wanted to listen to music" in the student district. Is that what you call it?? I did, however, let them buy me drinks (that arrived via bartender, not them) and let them be charmed by my below par French. I did crash the couch of a younger guy who, after riding a train together, took me to his middle school class to help him teach Shakespeare for the afternoon. I did *not* go with the bar owner in Nafplio who offered me a "tour" of his "yacht." Come on. But I did come back to the winery "after hours" for a "special tour" because, again, I met the family and they were wonderful salt-of-the-earth people. Through them, I met an old man who made his own desert wine and cooked only what he grew in his garden. He taught me about growing tomatoes on arid islands (this was on Santorini) and told me his favorite place to sit an write in the old growth olive groves near Delphi. You can watch the sun set behind the valley on the Aegean Sea with the golden light on the ruins and the village. I never would have known that otherwise. There are always risks, but it's silly to think that you would not meet new people the same as you would see new sights. My time with these people made my travels more meaningful. And you see things you otherwise never would have. When I was on the Yucatan penensula, I went to visit all the local Mayan ruins. They were awesome, to put it inarticulately. But after going to a local dive bar, where some of the outsiders from Pak Chen went, a group of us got to visit a sacred burial ground that was off limits to tourists.
The point is that you want to see things that make a place, not that make a tour book. If you are afriad, plan a couple trips first, and build up to it, but eventually you've got to jump in the deep end. Travelling alone is important, and I think almost necessary for a woman to experience.
So, after all that, I'm back to wanting to travel. Next on my list is a tie between visiting my brother's homeplace in Venezuela and a trip to Cinque Terre in Italy. Preferably attached to a side trip to Spain and Portugal. It could be worth the loans. Once I start my job, it's going to be hard to get away.
Willie is on a South African safari right now, and I'm awaiting more exciting posts on his trip! I'm in the middle of being bitten by a travel bug the size of a Montana rancher's sense of entitlement so it's nice to live vicariously through others. Hsuper is planning on going to multiple destinations in southeast Asia after the bar, about which I hope we'll hear. Other friends are travelling to Alaska, Italy, and Israel. Which is just killing me. I did a smart thing in my time before law school - I made travelling a priority. I think it's absolutely crucial to do that as much as possible before you have too much responsibility (i.e. a job and children). Well, I'm vastly aware that those positions are coming up soon in my life, and so I'm starting to feel the need to get some travel out.
For those who may be further ... back in their timeline than I, I figured I'd talk a little about some of my travels. It's really important if you want to travel alone as an American woman to get some of these basic ideas down. I wish I had Farmer to post on this, she travelled around Europe working on farms, which I think could be an alternative to my approach but still really good. I'll try and get an email out of her to post.
When I graduated from high school, I was fiercely independent. I had been living on and off out of the parental house since I was about 15. I got my first job when I was 14, something I'm super glad about. I had my own ideas about things and I never felt the need to explain my m.o. to others around me. I guess I can still be that way. Whereas everyone in my family was panicking that my life was going down the tube, I knew exactly what had to happen to get through.
One of things I needed was travel. But my vision of travel was different from many others around me. For one, most of my friends who were doing serious travelling were men - this meant that when they were encouraged by their friends and family, I was fretted over and dissuaded at every turn. For another, they had access to resources that I did not. My love of travel intersected with my love for music, and so my first travels were following a band. I worked odd high school jobs - a haunted house, a garden, a deli - and saved money. This started out small. 4-5 shows within a geographic area, pausing every few days to take in a sight, a hike, or a moment of culture. This soon grew to mini tours and then a full tour. When I did my full tour, I had about $800 saved up. I took $450 of this and invested in a t-shirt with three other friends so that I was paying about $4 per shirt. It was a picture of the band done in the style of Simpsons characters (for those of you who know me, this should come as no surprise). The shirts were a hit and I sold them for $15-$30 (depending on who the customer was). I made between $200-$500 a night as a vendor. The license was universal and cheap - a friend set up the "business." This money kept us going, paid for van repairs and any outside expenses, and let me come home with a bit of padding while I found a job. I firmly believed that I wanted to see my own country before I ran around to other countries, and so that's what I did. I shared a language, a basic culture, a currency, and an understanding of how the society worked - it was a good way to start. However, you keep a fast pace, so there isn't a lot of time to see the details. I saw the major sights though - the St. Louis Arch, the Everglades, Niagra Falls, the Great Lakes, the covered bridges in Vermont, and just about every major arena on the eastern side of the country. Heh. Plus, we had moments of exploration - a cabin in the Green Mountains in Vermont, an obscure night out in Toronto, random corners of Louisville. What's funny is that one of the guys I was travelling with is now also in law school. We only see each other once every couple years, but we're always very close because of that time.
This was the perfect time to travel with a group. There wasn't a lot of options over which we could disagree. It moved fast and we were inexperienced, so our joint talents and knowhow saved our collective butts on more than one occasion.
Anyway, I worked at a law firm for a while and then started college. It was about that time that I started getting twitchy again. This time, I planned a road trip by myself and drove for a week, stopping in random places with friends or friendlies, ending up with a trip to Key West. I knew I wanted to leave the country, but I thought it was important to try and travel by myself first... make sure I didn't end up in a ditch somewhere.
This was a perfect time for me to travel alone. I was doing something I already did within places I was decently comfortable. I was pushing some boundaries and taking some risks, but it was basically safe. When I came back in one piece, I decided to leave the country. I was in college, so I applied for a scholarship in England and got it. England was the first time I didn't have a job. The scholarship covered tuition, boarding at a flat on the outskirts of town, and a set fare to join a student group of our choosing (yes, they cost money). During orientation, it paid for two small day trips - one to London and one to Marlborough. Outside of that, it was up to me. Even though I had a scholarship, I didn't have a work visa, so I couldn't hold a job like I did in college. This meant I was living on the madre unit and thereby was living on the cheap and cheap. That ain't easy in England, especially when one desires travel. And to go party in London every weekend.
So I budgeted and took every chance I could to travel about. I saw a good deal of England and a good deal of France. France was a bit scary. It was my first trip without English and the girl I was supposed to meet basically disappeared in a train station. I was terrified, actually. But I found a hostel - ironically, the same hostel where Farmer would later stay when she found herself in Paris. After a few drinks and the realization that my French gets far better with booze and immersion, I was happy as a clam.
So although I wanted to travel alone, it kind of got thrown in my face. But something wonderful happened - I realized that I got to do what I wanted to do. I saw only what I wanted to see and spent as much time as I wanted to exploring something. What's more is that I found it to be immensely empowering to figure out that I could negotiate a foreign country by myself with finesse. That I was a good traveler. That I made friends wherever I went.
About 6 months after I got back into the US, I left again for Greece. This time, I stayed in Greece the whole time. I travelled over every part of it except for the northeast regions near Turkey - those weren't super safe at the time - plus I couldn't bear to leave the islands. I took a mini course to learn to speak and read basic Greek - not that I needed it much - and signed up to take a philosophy course out there. Although I spent a lot of time doing touristy stuff, I also spent a lot of time drinking on beaches. Greece has some seriously awesome islands and I ended up spending as much time on them as possible.
I travelled with a group, with a lover, and alone while out there. All three had their charms. The group I travelled with was pretty wild, and I probably would not have done as much partying had it not been for them. The interesting thing about the group travel in this case was that everyone was forming fast tight bonds, which is a bit weird. We all acted as though we had known one another for years. And there was a lot of toleration going on. When a couple of the girls brought back Greek men from the bars, we had to deal with it. When the guys got in a drunken fight on the street, we had to deal with it. Similarly, I could feel free to drink more than I normally would because I had a team of people watching over me. And I had people to get me to see things I normally would not, but am glad I did. Travelling with a lover is always fun (if they travel well, that is). Everything becomes romantic and sensual, all experiences call for idley reaching behind you and interlocking your fingers with someone you care for. It's definitely much more sharing than anything else. But travelling with a lover ironically affords you much less alone time than travelling with a group. While with a group, I went off exploring on my own, or journaling, or sleeping on the beach, etc. etc. When you travel with your partner, it's much more difficult to do that - especially if you don't have a hotel or something to call home base. This isn't a bad thing at all; it's just how it worked for me. The other side was that travelling alone allowed me access to other people that I never would have gotten otherwise. When I'm with a lover, I definitely interact with people outside of my sphere, just not as much. But when I'm with a group, it's even harder because it's so easy to stay within the circle established.
I've never been hurt or robbed in any of the places I've been. I might have been pickpocketed once, but then again, I might have just dropped my stuff. No telling. I have been cheated and threatened. Then again, I had all that happen to me in high school too, so there you have it.
If you choose to travel alone, I think the number one issue is trust. How do you explore and stay safe at the same time? Especially if you are a woman travelling alone? A lot of people told me to just keep to myself, but that made for miserable travels, both in state and out.
Do NOT waste your time by going out to see a bunch of rocks put in place my some ancient dead culture. I mean, that's cool and important, but the best part of travel is meeting people you never would have. As a woman, this means a few VERY obvious things like never ever go home with someone that could even possibly want to have sex with you. This is important no matter where you are. The closest I ever came to sexual assault was the owner of a hostel in northern France, so don't think that an "establishment" gets you out of that. I have stayed at people's houses I hardly knew, but that was because I met them and their children and ended up having long conversations with them to "know" that they were safe. Now, I know that people are not always what they seem, but it would be a shame to lock yourself out of those experiences because you think it's safer at a cockroach-ridden hostel. The family I stayed with had a huge flat that overlooked the Eiffel Tower. No way could I have afforded that on my own. They treated me to fancy dinners and let me use their bike. But - this also means that I did *not* go back to the apartment with the 3 boys who "wanted to listen to music" in the student district. Is that what you call it?? I did, however, let them buy me drinks (that arrived via bartender, not them) and let them be charmed by my below par French. I did crash the couch of a younger guy who, after riding a train together, took me to his middle school class to help him teach Shakespeare for the afternoon. I did *not* go with the bar owner in Nafplio who offered me a "tour" of his "yacht." Come on. But I did come back to the winery "after hours" for a "special tour" because, again, I met the family and they were wonderful salt-of-the-earth people. Through them, I met an old man who made his own desert wine and cooked only what he grew in his garden. He taught me about growing tomatoes on arid islands (this was on Santorini) and told me his favorite place to sit an write in the old growth olive groves near Delphi. You can watch the sun set behind the valley on the Aegean Sea with the golden light on the ruins and the village. I never would have known that otherwise. There are always risks, but it's silly to think that you would not meet new people the same as you would see new sights. My time with these people made my travels more meaningful. And you see things you otherwise never would have. When I was on the Yucatan penensula, I went to visit all the local Mayan ruins. They were awesome, to put it inarticulately. But after going to a local dive bar, where some of the outsiders from Pak Chen went, a group of us got to visit a sacred burial ground that was off limits to tourists.
The point is that you want to see things that make a place, not that make a tour book. If you are afriad, plan a couple trips first, and build up to it, but eventually you've got to jump in the deep end. Travelling alone is important, and I think almost necessary for a woman to experience.
So, after all that, I'm back to wanting to travel. Next on my list is a tie between visiting my brother's homeplace in Venezuela and a trip to Cinque Terre in Italy. Preferably attached to a side trip to Spain and Portugal. It could be worth the loans. Once I start my job, it's going to be hard to get away.
Friday, October 13, 2006
Weekend Lists
This isn't interesting to you, but maybe posting it will make me do it. I've been totally worthless since my dental stuffs, and I need to get something done.
Weekend List
Weekend List
- trade out summer clothes for winter clothes
- get wax out of bed sheets (I spilled a candle, you perv)
- water downstairs plants
- hang pictures
- clean bathroom
- clean dresser surface
- buy clothing to replace items that have magically disappeared
- learn Corporations
- lose 5 pounds
I'll Take the Crab Juice
Me: Hey, whatcha doin?
Friend: I'm fantasizing about you.
Me: Hahaha. No really, what are you doing?
Friend: Fantazing about Mark Foley.
Me: Yeah. Who doesn't?
Friend: with midgets.
Me: again, who doesn't?
Friend: And donkeys.
Me: that always adds a kick. Or a punch.
Friend: Just kidding. I'm eating a chicken sandwich from Arby's and drinking a Moutain Dew.
(pause with chewing sounds)
Friend: hello?
(silence)
Me: You are one sick individual.
Friend: I'm fantasizing about you.
Me: Hahaha. No really, what are you doing?
Friend: Fantazing about Mark Foley.
Me: Yeah. Who doesn't?
Friend: with midgets.
Me: again, who doesn't?
Friend: And donkeys.
Me: that always adds a kick. Or a punch.
Friend: Just kidding. I'm eating a chicken sandwich from Arby's and drinking a Moutain Dew.
(pause with chewing sounds)
Friend: hello?
(silence)
Me: You are one sick individual.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Floppy
I went back to class today. I look fairly normal and I ate a mashed banana. So I think I'm on the road to recovery. I think it's important to share the highlight of my day with you. But I'm still on drugs and trying to get through class on them. It's just like 1L only without the neckbrace. And without the horrible sinking feeling of dread all the time. Replace that with apathy, and there you go. And you have no idea how many typos there are in this blog post. It's tempting not to fix them just so you can see how well my brain is working right now. As in not. but I do because I still feel like I need to at least resemble English. Heh. Ok, so a mash of technically English words spelled moderately correctly and in an occasional order.
So it's about 7:15 and I have 30 more minutes of class. I want to die, and by the look on everyone's face, so do they. Mass suicide, anyone? The only thing keeping me going is a swiftly dwindling cup of hot chocolate brought by my savior Jes. Hot chocolate works a lot like nitrous oxide - it still hurts, but you care less. After class, I'm supposed to go be "social" with my "friends" (i.e. the people the madre unit pays every month with my excess law loans - hehe, I said excess law loans). I want to curl into a ball and die, but I hate missing fun.
Not that anyone can have fun without me. It's a positively oxymoronic suggestion.
But I'm also supposed to attempt my chances at solid food tonight. Paleo suggested fish n' chips. Fish n' chips are at said social event. I'm sure my dentist meant something more to the effect of "heavily boiled vegetables" but whatever. I'm sure what he really meant was fish n chips.
So it's about 7:15 and I have 30 more minutes of class. I want to die, and by the look on everyone's face, so do they. Mass suicide, anyone? The only thing keeping me going is a swiftly dwindling cup of hot chocolate brought by my savior Jes. Hot chocolate works a lot like nitrous oxide - it still hurts, but you care less. After class, I'm supposed to go be "social" with my "friends" (i.e. the people the madre unit pays every month with my excess law loans - hehe, I said excess law loans). I want to curl into a ball and die, but I hate missing fun.
Not that anyone can have fun without me. It's a positively oxymoronic suggestion.
But I'm also supposed to attempt my chances at solid food tonight. Paleo suggested fish n' chips. Fish n' chips are at said social event. I'm sure my dentist meant something more to the effect of "heavily boiled vegetables" but whatever. I'm sure what he really meant was fish n chips.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
If I were a tool I'd be something rusty and incomprehensible
So I've acted pretty much like a tool today. I mean, granted, my mouth has stiches in it and I'm less than 24 hours out of an awful procedure, but that doesn't give me total license to act like a jackass to those who are kind enough to take care of me. I've been impatient, whiny, demanding, inconsiderate, immature, and just plain rude.
I am lucky that my loved ones have such patience with me. Thank you.
I am lucky that my loved ones have such patience with me. Thank you.
Gummy McDroolerson goes to Washington
Ah, so I had my interview today. Depite the swollen cheeck, lisp, and general lack of coordination, I think it went well. I guess it's similar enough to me without sleep that no one really noticed. The good news on the job front is that they invited me back in two weeks to visit them at the office. Yay! I think that's a great sign. This job is perfect for me.
The bad news is that I still can't eat solids for another 24 hours. Boo. I have the okay to eat noodles, and so I ate 3/4 of a box of Kraft mac n' cheese. You know, because I'm classy. That's how we do it here in Classtown, Sophistylvania. Ironically, dlz over at One Man's Ceiling wrote a post with a recipe for the finest mac n' cheese known to man. I mean, it's almost as good as my Kraft Deluxe, but hard to tell without a sample taste test. If he were really a chef who wanted to prove himself, he'd make some of that mac n' cheese and bring it down here to D.C. to see if it can stand up to my Deluxe. Huh? Huh? What now?
Sorry, in all fairness, it looked like a kickin recipe, so I thought I'd post my richest most decadent mac n' cheese as well. Noo, not Deluxe. That's just for special occasions. Like when I'm drooling out the side of my painfully swollen face. I know you think I'm sexy. Don't lie. I said DON'T LIE!!
Heh. Anyway, this version is a little more traditional than his, but still a good one to try if you're in the market to gain about 6 pounds from one meal.
Lyco's Decadent Mac n' Cheese
8 tbs butter (1 stick)
6 slices good quality white/french bread, crusts removed, torn into 1/4 inch pieces
5 1/2 cups milk
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp freshly grated nutmeg
1 tsp freshly ground pepper
1/4 tsp cayenne (I tend to use a bit more)
1/2 tsp mustard powder (or use fresh stone ground mustard to taste)
4 1/2 cups (18 oz) grated sharp white cheddar cheese
2 cups (8 oz) grated Gruyere cheese
1 pd elbow macaroni
Heat oven to 375. Butter a 3-qt casserole dish and set aside. Place bread pieces in a medium bowl. In a small saucepan over medium heat, melt 2 tbs butter. Pour the butter into the bowl with the bread and toss pepper. Set bread aside.
In a medium saucepan over medium heat, heat the milk; do NOT let the milk boil! Melt remaining 6 tbs butter in a high sided skillet over medium heat. When the butter bubbles, add the flour. Cook, stirring constantly, 1 -2 minutes. Slowly pour in the hot milk while whisking. Continue whisking constantly, until the mixture bubbles and becomes thick. Remove the pan from heat and stir in the mustard powder, salt, nutmeg, pepper (cayenne and black), 3 cups cheddar cheese, and 1 1/2 cups Gruyere. Set cheese sauce asside.
Fill a large saucepan with water and bring to a boil (you can add a dash of salt here if you like, but adjust the seasoning accordingly). Add macaroni; cook 3 minutes less than directions (so that the outside is done, but the inside is still chewy). Transfer the macaroni to a colander and drain well. I'm not a rinser period, but if you rinse, then you may need to add a minute of cook time. Stir macaroni into the reserved cheese sauce.
Pour the mixture into the prepared casserole dish. Sprinkle remaining 1 1/2 cups cheddar and 1/2 Gruyere on top; scatter bread crumbs over the cheese. Bake until browned on op, about 30 minutes. Transfer the dish to a wire rack to cool 5 minutes, and serve.
The bad news is that I still can't eat solids for another 24 hours. Boo. I have the okay to eat noodles, and so I ate 3/4 of a box of Kraft mac n' cheese. You know, because I'm classy. That's how we do it here in Classtown, Sophistylvania. Ironically, dlz over at One Man's Ceiling wrote a post with a recipe for the finest mac n' cheese known to man. I mean, it's almost as good as my Kraft Deluxe, but hard to tell without a sample taste test. If he were really a chef who wanted to prove himself, he'd make some of that mac n' cheese and bring it down here to D.C. to see if it can stand up to my Deluxe. Huh? Huh? What now?
Sorry, in all fairness, it looked like a kickin recipe, so I thought I'd post my richest most decadent mac n' cheese as well. Noo, not Deluxe. That's just for special occasions. Like when I'm drooling out the side of my painfully swollen face. I know you think I'm sexy. Don't lie. I said DON'T LIE!!
Heh. Anyway, this version is a little more traditional than his, but still a good one to try if you're in the market to gain about 6 pounds from one meal.
Lyco's Decadent Mac n' Cheese
8 tbs butter (1 stick)
6 slices good quality white/french bread, crusts removed, torn into 1/4 inch pieces
5 1/2 cups milk
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp freshly grated nutmeg
1 tsp freshly ground pepper
1/4 tsp cayenne (I tend to use a bit more)
1/2 tsp mustard powder (or use fresh stone ground mustard to taste)
4 1/2 cups (18 oz) grated sharp white cheddar cheese
2 cups (8 oz) grated Gruyere cheese
1 pd elbow macaroni
Heat oven to 375. Butter a 3-qt casserole dish and set aside. Place bread pieces in a medium bowl. In a small saucepan over medium heat, melt 2 tbs butter. Pour the butter into the bowl with the bread and toss pepper. Set bread aside.
In a medium saucepan over medium heat, heat the milk; do NOT let the milk boil! Melt remaining 6 tbs butter in a high sided skillet over medium heat. When the butter bubbles, add the flour. Cook, stirring constantly, 1 -2 minutes. Slowly pour in the hot milk while whisking. Continue whisking constantly, until the mixture bubbles and becomes thick. Remove the pan from heat and stir in the mustard powder, salt, nutmeg, pepper (cayenne and black), 3 cups cheddar cheese, and 1 1/2 cups Gruyere. Set cheese sauce asside.
Fill a large saucepan with water and bring to a boil (you can add a dash of salt here if you like, but adjust the seasoning accordingly). Add macaroni; cook 3 minutes less than directions (so that the outside is done, but the inside is still chewy). Transfer the macaroni to a colander and drain well. I'm not a rinser period, but if you rinse, then you may need to add a minute of cook time. Stir macaroni into the reserved cheese sauce.
Pour the mixture into the prepared casserole dish. Sprinkle remaining 1 1/2 cups cheddar and 1/2 Gruyere on top; scatter bread crumbs over the cheese. Bake until browned on op, about 30 minutes. Transfer the dish to a wire rack to cool 5 minutes, and serve.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Like a Jackhammer to the Face
Ow.
I just finished dental surgery. My surgeon was a total jerk, but he looked like George Clooney, so it was fine by me. Besides the fact that you kinda gotta repect (or be disgusted by) a man who is willing to yank a tooth out of your head, he was totally blunt with me. I kind of appreciated it.
I just finished dental surgery. My surgeon was a total jerk, but he looked like George Clooney, so it was fine by me. Besides the fact that you kinda gotta repect (or be disgusted by) a man who is willing to yank a tooth out of your head, he was totally blunt with me. I kind of appreciated it.
Dentist: Think nice thoughts...So at the end, we had a lovely goodbye:. (series of yanks and cracks)Me: Mmmphff. Ooohhh. Mmmrr. (pause)
Me: You know, it's really hard to "think nice thoughts." Just sayin.
Dentist: Well, you know, it's really hard to do my work when you keep moaning like it hurts. Which it clearly doesn't. Just sayin.
Me: Touche.
Later
Dentist: I'm not going to tell you what I'm doing right now, but it's coming along fine.
Me: Uh huh. I know what you're doing. I'm numb, not stupid.
Dentist: Oh good, I was beginning to wonder...
Dentist: Alright you're done. I'll just get your painmeds prescription and you can go.So now I'm sitting on my bed and it feels like North Korea decided my molars were a more appropriate place for nuclear testing. Stupid ow.
Me: Grrmpheat.
(15 minute wait)
Dentist: Oookk, here's your prescription. Sorry that took so long. You may wanna hurry up, the novocaine is gonna wear off soon, and trust me, you'll want to have taken a pain killer by the time it wears off. (pause) Well, see you in two weeks.
Me: o_O
Saturday, October 07, 2006
And then I laid down the law like an insecure sorority girl
and thusly she fell. So It's amazing, but I'm a 3L and I've decided to... OUTLINE today. I did a good job at waiting until the last minute to get everything done this week. Because.. well, because I was seriously hung over. So there. But I consequently did the bare minimum amount of homework. And now I'm vainly trying to make up for it. By blogging. And listening to Guns and Roses "Knockin' on Heaven's Door." On repeat.
On the good news front, I have an interview with my dream job this Wednesday. That would be one day AFTER I get dental surgery. And no, this was not the employer who contacted me whilst on many pounds of novocaine. I'm just smooth like that - I give all my employers equal opportunity to speak to me when I'm at my very worst. And drooling. I think it's good to get a little drool into the interview process. I try and make them as similar to being out on a date with me as possible.
The last important thing to note is that Paleobiology makes the best damn tacos I have ever eaten. And I've eaten me some tacos. Homeslice fried up the corn tortillas fresh in front of our eyes. Once said tortillas of joy are fried in the appopriate amount of a substance which shall not be mentioned, they are thusly placed upon the table with the bounty of harvest and a pot of meat I could fit into. And I ate my weight in them. And they even cured my hangover. All praises and hails etc. to Paleo for said deliciousness in the land of the hangover-curing taco.
On the good news front, I have an interview with my dream job this Wednesday. That would be one day AFTER I get dental surgery. And no, this was not the employer who contacted me whilst on many pounds of novocaine. I'm just smooth like that - I give all my employers equal opportunity to speak to me when I'm at my very worst. And drooling. I think it's good to get a little drool into the interview process. I try and make them as similar to being out on a date with me as possible.
The last important thing to note is that Paleobiology makes the best damn tacos I have ever eaten. And I've eaten me some tacos. Homeslice fried up the corn tortillas fresh in front of our eyes. Once said tortillas of joy are fried in the appopriate amount of a substance which shall not be mentioned, they are thusly placed upon the table with the bounty of harvest and a pot of meat I could fit into. And I ate my weight in them. And they even cured my hangover. All praises and hails etc. to Paleo for said deliciousness in the land of the hangover-curing taco.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Bless ESPN, GameCast, and all its subsidiaries
So I'm technically in Corporations right now, but I keep finding reasons to run downstairs and watch the Mets v. Dodgers game. I love the Divisional Series. I'd love it more if the Braves were playing, but waddryagunnado. What's amusing is that there are two to three other peeps in the class who keep running down as well. It's like we all clue each other in. It's the bottom of the 8th!
My loyalties run in strange directions, and tho I'm not normally a Mets fan, my grandad sure is, and so I am rooting for them. So my screen was, for the briefest of sparkles, 1/2 notes and 1/2 ESPN GameCast. Then, it was 1/2 GameCast and 1/2 shopping. Now it's 1/2 blogging. But always with said GameCast. Bless GameCast. And do you know why I don't feel bad? Because the guy in front of me accidently opened up a music video with his volume turned all the way up. With chicks singing and lots of poppy sounds. And chicks singing. With the volume all the way up. Hehe. I, of course, had to fight the urge to slam my computer screen shut. Because I always feel like those things are my fault. Probably because they usually are. But whatever.
In other exciting news, I'm preparing for my pirrrrate costume for Halloween! Yay! I just got feaux red patent leather shoes. I'm so pleased I can't even tell you.
Crap, I think my prof. is saying something important. Do you think "derivative suits" are going to be on the exam???
My loyalties run in strange directions, and tho I'm not normally a Mets fan, my grandad sure is, and so I am rooting for them. So my screen was, for the briefest of sparkles, 1/2 notes and 1/2 ESPN GameCast. Then, it was 1/2 GameCast and 1/2 shopping. Now it's 1/2 blogging. But always with said GameCast. Bless GameCast. And do you know why I don't feel bad? Because the guy in front of me accidently opened up a music video with his volume turned all the way up. With chicks singing and lots of poppy sounds. And chicks singing. With the volume all the way up. Hehe. I, of course, had to fight the urge to slam my computer screen shut. Because I always feel like those things are my fault. Probably because they usually are. But whatever.
In other exciting news, I'm preparing for my pirrrrate costume for Halloween! Yay! I just got feaux red patent leather shoes. I'm so pleased I can't even tell you.
Crap, I think my prof. is saying something important. Do you think "derivative suits" are going to be on the exam???
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Massachusetts v. EPA
Over the summer I decided to host a series of speakers at GULC that focused on environmental issues in the Supreme Court. Well, the first speaker was Professor Lisa Heinzerling, representing the State of Massachusetts in the upcoming Supreme Court case, Massachusetts v. EPA. The case will be heard on November 29, 2006. Because of the enormous ramifications of this case and because I know interested parties could not attend, I decided to take notes on Professor Heinzerling’s talk and post it on the blog for others to read. First off, a bit about Professor Heinzerling. I had her originally in my first year curriculum. She taught Section 3’s class called “Government Processes,” which is essentially admin law with a critique of law and economics mixed in. She is a powerhouse, loves her power point, and is one of the most dynamic and caring professors whose classes I have had the honor to attend. During the talk, she kept it substantive but made the audience laugh – if there’s one thing she’s good at (and there are many) it’s winning over a crowd. Furthermore, she’s got an adorable new haircut. So she’s smart as a tac, has killer style, and one helluva cute do. But back to the issue at hand. Case Background Before we get into the substance of her approach, you probably need a background to the case. So, as you know, there is a lot of scientific evidence pointing to the fact that various stuff is changing earth’s climate. This climate change is generally labeled as dangerous. We also know that 60% of the country’s greenhouse gas emissions come from power plants and cars. I know that some believe that this is “alleged” but I am not one of those people, so pardon my editorializing. Anyhow, some began to claim that EPA should be able to regulate the greenhouse gas emissions from cars, and in response, EPA invited public comment on 1/12/2001 (66 FR 7486). What was the result? I’ll bet you can guess! That’s right, nothing happened – it, according to Prof. Heinzerling, “went into the black hole where petitions for rulemaking live.” When they finally did respond, the EPA declined to regulated because the EPA claimed that the Clean Air Act does not give them the authority to regulate, and that because the CAA doesn’t give them the authority to regulate, that they cannot be pollutants under CAA. Furthermore, they declined to regulate even if they had the authority to do so. The EPA claimed various reasons, not connected with the Clean Air Act to legitimize this secondary decision. In comes Prof. Heinzerling. A friend of hers from Mass sent a brief to her in the mail, and noted that this is an unusual approach to statutory interpretation. Normally we look at the statute first, but instead EPA looked at other stuff than the language of the statute and then applied it to the statute. So they think that EPA didn’t take the right things into consideration and they file suit in the DC Circuit (like all these cases) to get the EPA to reconsider the issue using the correct considerations. Mainly, §202 of the Clean Air Act. Well, the DC Circuit is badly split. Here’s the basic split summary J. Randolph: EPA may take into account “the sort of policy judgments Congress makes when it decides whether to enact legislation regulating in a particular area.” J. Sentelle: “impossible” to establish standing, but joins Randolph even though he denies it on jurisdictional grounds. Tatel: dissented. Clearly this man is bright. This is clearly not good for Heinzerling and not (in general) good for SCOTUS cert petitions. However, Heinzerling, being the clever woman she is, writes an astounding cert petition. The Big H cleverly steers clear of the issue of whether greenhouse gases should be regulated. Instead, she attacks the methodology behind EPA’s decision. Her basic question whether the EPA has the authority to take such external issues into consideration in making judgments. So despite what you may have read on this case (the New York Times published a very controversial piece claiming the case would be argued on the merits of the science behind global warming). Now, let’s break this down, and then I’ll add some side notes Heinzerling addressed. § 202(a)(1) of the Clean Air Act reads as follows. The important terms are bolded. (1) The Administrator shall by regulation prescribe (and from time to time revise) in accordance with the provisions of this section, standards applicable to the emission of any air pollutant from any class or classes of new motor vehicles or new motor vehicle engines, which in his judgment cause, or contribute to, air pollution whichmay reasonably be anticipated to endanger public health or welfare. Such standards shall be applicable to such vehicles and engines for their useful life (as determined under subsection (d), relating to useful life of vehicles for purposes of certification), whether such vehicles and engines are designed as complete systems or incorporate devices to prevent or control such pollution. One basic point is the word “shall.” This obviously means a mandate placed on the EPA by Congress to perform that function. Section 202(a)(1) not only says shall, it says shall if endangerment. So Heinzerling uses “endangerment std”. Instead they used a “different policy approach” and say that scientific uncertainty is bad. SG’s opp in petition for cert claimed that 202(a)(1) includes the word “judgment” and that word gives them enough discretion to cover this. Heinzerling argued that the judgment goes to the scientific issue, not whether EPA wants to regulate or not. While the EPA is trying to argue that the judgment is a much broader check to cash. In fact, the word judgment given to the Administrator is most clearly read as making a judgment about the cause or contribute and endangerment clauses. Once the administrator determines this, he is then required to set Tech-based standards. Note that it says any air pollutant. Section 302(g) defines air pollutant as any substance or matter emitted into the ambient air. The EPA’s response, 68 FR 52929, basically said that the class must be narrower than that, but Heinzerling argued, I think persuasively, that the word “includes” refutes that. However, instead of determining these narrow issues, the EPA took a myriad of bizarre things into account (the “different policy approach”). Heinzerling argued that the EPA used extraneous issues to determine authority. Basically, the argument is that the EPA must go back and re-determine authority using only the proper issues. Why weren’t they just looking at the evidence and saying that “no, we don’t think we should regulate” (which would probably be challenged on arbitrary and capricious)? The following are just a few of the improper issues EPA used to deny regulation: - “Indicia of congressional intent:” legislation to regulate greenhouse gases has not been enacted. Basically they’re saying that this is important enough to where if Congress wanted them to regulate it, they would say so explicitly. There are a million problems with this approach. - Incompatible legislation: other legislation that was incompatible with the regulation here (specifically, EPCA, which sets efficiency stds for automobiles). The EPA argued that because of controls placed on cars for the increase in fuel efficiency, the two regulations are “incompatible” and deny EPA authority to regulate greenhouse gases emitted from cars. Heinzerling argued that they are not incompatible and that we should save both – the car companies must comply with the more stringent standard. - EPA also said that the NAAQS program, which they argue with dictate greenhouse gases, sets things based on health and it makes no sense to do that here b/c they are global pollutants. H claims that the program at issue here is the mobile sources program, not NAAQS. Inefficient piecemeal approach – they thought it was too modest an approach to climate change and the problem with “unilateral EPA regulation” and raises foreign policy issues and is a matter of the president’s prerogative. Heinzerling mentioned aptly that it is the President’s job to comply with Congressional mandates and laws. - Economic and political significance: Based on the Brown and Williamson case (invalidated FDA’s attempt to regulate tobacco), the EPA basically said that the issue is so big that Congress should have explicitly covered it. This is much like a reprise of the first point. Basically, the whole decision is tainted by other factors and should be sent back. They never talked about whether the scientific uncertainty refuted endangerment. Administrator can act before there is consensus in the science, hence the “reasonably anticipated to endanger,” so just to rely on “uncertain” is not enough. Which brings up our second issue: Does the EPA have the discretion to determine authority and yet deny to regulate? This requires a bit of unpacking as well. One issue is what the EPA can take into account to determine authority. The second is once authority is determined, does the Clean Air Act mandate regulation? Most of the Q & A were nuanced, but many were focused on standing. I didn’t include these because SCOTUS refused to grant cert on the standing issue. However, SCOTUS can address standing at any point, so if you are interested in the issue, I can do a supplementary post on that. A great source with most of the original documents can be found here.
Monday, October 02, 2006
Weekend Update
It was cold. Much much colder than they said. And wet. And I'm filthy. And who knew you couldn't plug your cell phone into a tree?
I just got home, and a long, hot shower awaits. And then I have to lead a discussion in my seminar. Because, you know, I spent a lot of time this weekend preparing for it.
I just got home, and a long, hot shower awaits. And then I have to lead a discussion in my seminar. Because, you know, I spent a lot of time this weekend preparing for it.
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