Trick or Treat.
Check out this picture of me and my co-workers today!
Friday, October 30, 2009
be safe and dont eat too much candy
I just wanted to tell everyone to have a safe and happy Halloween this weekend. During this time of year it can be dangerous but then fun at the same time. Depending on where you live in Baltimore you probably wont even be handing out candy. I know I wont this year! Its not like my neighborhood is really bad but lets just say its bad enough that I would rather not risk any kind of robbery or violence from the hoodlums that wander the streets at night. I will never understand why anyone can be so vicious but what can you do - nothing. When I was about 12 years old me and two other girlfriends were trick or treating and were jumped for our candy as we were walking down a steep hill. The hoodlum got my friends candy but not mine! Me and the guy actually were literally playing tug a war back and forth for a minute until he gave up and ran. The really funny part about my bravery that night is that I had a pair of underwear in my candy bag that I forgot to take out, lol. The whole time I was so worried about feeling embarrassed about my underwear and not having any to wear the next day. Honestly I think I was stronger than him too. Who knows maybe because of that night is why I have never been a big fan of Halloween. Just be safe, don't drink and drive, and most importantly do not eat too much candy! :)
Trick or Treat.
Check out this picture of me and my co-workers today!
Trick or Treat.
Check out this picture of me and my co-workers today!
Halloween
I do hope I can entertain sufficiently in one blog post to make up for the lack of a post last week. At least this time around I had a very easy time deciding on a topic.
Everybody knows about the history of Halloween--about All Hallow's Eve and Samhain and so on, and the dressing up as harmful spirits in order to fool potential real harmful spirits into leaving you alone--so I won't go into detail about it here. I'll talk instead about how I've celebrated it, in the great narcissistic tradition of bloggers everywhere.
I grew up around Baltimore, and my first real exposure to Halloween American-style was in the mid-eighties. Back then, shop-bought character costumes didn't consist of foam-padded muscles and syndicated Disney princess outfits: they were comprised of 1) a very thin and extremely fragrant mask of the character's face and 2) a vinyl smock on which a picture of the character was printed. Even at six or seven this struck me as a funny way to go about dressing up as somebody.
As a small child I was very much into Warrior Women and She-Ra and similar, and my Halloween costumes for several years centered around a treasured plastic She-Ra sword that glowed in the dark and had little sparkly stickers on the hilt to indicate inlaid gems. Each year I'd put something together from items we already had in the house or that my mother made for me (a bright pink knitted tunic, one year, stood in for chain mail in a knight costume) or that some kind friend or family member had donated. I remember being Morpheus (Gaiman's character; this predated the Matrix by quite a few years) and, not owning a long black coat, having to borrow a friend's mother's black plastic raincoat. This is of note simply because I find it difficult to remember there was a time before I owned a long black coat of any sort.
In college, I was pleased to learn that dressing up for Halloween was not only considered acceptable, it was considered a serious undertaking for which great preparations were required. My finest hour was definitely the time I dressed up as a Random Masquerader from Labyrinth along with a great many of my friends as more recognizable characters from the movie. I didn't have a dress as gorgeous as the girl playing Sarah, or pants as fabulous as our Jareth's, but I did have several pounds of fabric paint, glitter, gems, and silver-blue lamé whipped together into an outfit that crossed Ice Capades Barbie with Catwoman. It was great fun and took me about a week to make.
That was really the pinnacle of my Halloween experiences. Since graduating from college I've not spent much time or energy dressing up; as one nears thirty the idea of trick-or-treating (or trick-or-beering) becomes more and more ludicrous, and anyway who has the time to put into a truly memorable costume? But despite my lack of active participation I love the holiday, and I enjoy watching people get dressed up and strut their stuff at work, at parties, while handing out candy. I love the pumpkin carving and the silly fake spiderwebs and the feeling of excitement that still hasn't gone away after all these years.
What will you be doing for Halloween? And who will you be dressing up as to do it?
Everybody knows about the history of Halloween--about All Hallow's Eve and Samhain and so on, and the dressing up as harmful spirits in order to fool potential real harmful spirits into leaving you alone--so I won't go into detail about it here. I'll talk instead about how I've celebrated it, in the great narcissistic tradition of bloggers everywhere.
I grew up around Baltimore, and my first real exposure to Halloween American-style was in the mid-eighties. Back then, shop-bought character costumes didn't consist of foam-padded muscles and syndicated Disney princess outfits: they were comprised of 1) a very thin and extremely fragrant mask of the character's face and 2) a vinyl smock on which a picture of the character was printed. Even at six or seven this struck me as a funny way to go about dressing up as somebody.
As a small child I was very much into Warrior Women and She-Ra and similar, and my Halloween costumes for several years centered around a treasured plastic She-Ra sword that glowed in the dark and had little sparkly stickers on the hilt to indicate inlaid gems. Each year I'd put something together from items we already had in the house or that my mother made for me (a bright pink knitted tunic, one year, stood in for chain mail in a knight costume) or that some kind friend or family member had donated. I remember being Morpheus (Gaiman's character; this predated the Matrix by quite a few years) and, not owning a long black coat, having to borrow a friend's mother's black plastic raincoat. This is of note simply because I find it difficult to remember there was a time before I owned a long black coat of any sort.
In college, I was pleased to learn that dressing up for Halloween was not only considered acceptable, it was considered a serious undertaking for which great preparations were required. My finest hour was definitely the time I dressed up as a Random Masquerader from Labyrinth along with a great many of my friends as more recognizable characters from the movie. I didn't have a dress as gorgeous as the girl playing Sarah, or pants as fabulous as our Jareth's, but I did have several pounds of fabric paint, glitter, gems, and silver-blue lamé whipped together into an outfit that crossed Ice Capades Barbie with Catwoman. It was great fun and took me about a week to make.
That was really the pinnacle of my Halloween experiences. Since graduating from college I've not spent much time or energy dressing up; as one nears thirty the idea of trick-or-treating (or trick-or-beering) becomes more and more ludicrous, and anyway who has the time to put into a truly memorable costume? But despite my lack of active participation I love the holiday, and I enjoy watching people get dressed up and strut their stuff at work, at parties, while handing out candy. I love the pumpkin carving and the silly fake spiderwebs and the feeling of excitement that still hasn't gone away after all these years.
What will you be doing for Halloween? And who will you be dressing up as to do it?
Thursday, October 29, 2009
What Happened to the Treat Option?
Halloween is upon us once again and I have a feeling that it's going to be quite the let down this year. Don't get me wrong, I definitely fancy myself some Halloween action but not for the same reasons many other guys in my situation might. Yes, there is a side of me (yin) that enjoys seeing gorgeous, scantily clad women dancing in bars drinking alcohol. But there is another side of me (yang) that is strait up sick of talking to girls only to find out they a.) don't have a brain; b.) think they're way hotter than they actually are; or c.) will sleep with me without knowing so much as my first name and a couple of bullshit lines I gave them with a smile at the bar. (Is there a PC way to say whore?) What ever happened to trick-or-treat? I feel like the latter option has been completely dropped and all we're left with is a bunch of tricks.
I must take a minute to admit that in the past decade I have been wifed up a total of 8 years between two different girls - what a crying shame. Not being able to find someone that is both attractive and can hold an intelligent conversation hasn't been too much of an issue until fairly recently - forgive me if this turns into a rant, as it undoubtedly will.
(If we have hung out, gone on a date, hooked up or even been in the "talking" phase recently then please do not take offense. In all likelihood if you're reading this then we're still on good terms and it was a mutual understanding anyway - hopefully)
What Your Costume Says to Me:
If the name of your costume is prefaced by sexy, naughty or slutty (i.e. sexy firefighter, naughty cop, slutty nurse) then you are probably not wearing enough clothing and likely a.) feel the need to gain approval from the opposite sex in order to feel good about yourself and do so by showing off your body; b.) feel the need to fit in with your peers in order to feel good about yourself and do so by conforming to what they're doing; or c.) feel the need to show off your body because you are materialistic and don't value any wit, charm, sense of humor or mental capacity that you may have.
If you purchased your costume from a costume store and wear it as it was intended to be worn then you're a.) not crafty enough to fashion one yourself; b.) not creative enough to come up with an idea for a costume yourself; or c.)too lazy to be either crafty or creative.
Tony Robbins:
You teach people how to treat you. If you wear a costume that makes you look like a slut prepare yourself to be treated accordingly. If your costume is completely unoriginal and required little thought (a.k.a you bought it from a store) then prepare to be hit on by guys that are completely unoriginal.
I know that when I go out the next few nights, dressed in full regalia, I will first and foremost be looking to simply have a good time with friends. However, I will also be keeping an eye out for attractive girls that seem to have creative and lucid thoughts between their ears (yang.)
If in my journey I happen to strike up a conversation with a really hot girl who I can tolerate but don't necessarily hit it off with and she wants to join me back at my house for a drink or two after the bar then I may oblige (yin) but that will likely be the extent of it. (Don't you judge me! I'm a single 24 year old guy and would like to keep it that way until a more attractive situation presents itself.)
On a completely unrelated note - while I'm still bitching about the eligible females I meet - can we please encourage girls to start eating double bacon cheeseburgers? I'm not sure who decided it was sexy for women to look like 7 year-old boy's but we need to switch that up STAT. What happened to a woman having curves and being soft? I don't want to see your abs or your rib cage so please start eating food and quit with the binge and purge method.
Remember kids: Be well, do good work and always know your dealer.
Cheers,
Miles.
I must take a minute to admit that in the past decade I have been wifed up a total of 8 years between two different girls - what a crying shame. Not being able to find someone that is both attractive and can hold an intelligent conversation hasn't been too much of an issue until fairly recently - forgive me if this turns into a rant, as it undoubtedly will.
(If we have hung out, gone on a date, hooked up or even been in the "talking" phase recently then please do not take offense. In all likelihood if you're reading this then we're still on good terms and it was a mutual understanding anyway - hopefully)
What Your Costume Says to Me:
If the name of your costume is prefaced by sexy, naughty or slutty (i.e. sexy firefighter, naughty cop, slutty nurse) then you are probably not wearing enough clothing and likely a.) feel the need to gain approval from the opposite sex in order to feel good about yourself and do so by showing off your body; b.) feel the need to fit in with your peers in order to feel good about yourself and do so by conforming to what they're doing; or c.) feel the need to show off your body because you are materialistic and don't value any wit, charm, sense of humor or mental capacity that you may have.
If you purchased your costume from a costume store and wear it as it was intended to be worn then you're a.) not crafty enough to fashion one yourself; b.) not creative enough to come up with an idea for a costume yourself; or c.)too lazy to be either crafty or creative.
Tony Robbins:
You teach people how to treat you. If you wear a costume that makes you look like a slut prepare yourself to be treated accordingly. If your costume is completely unoriginal and required little thought (a.k.a you bought it from a store) then prepare to be hit on by guys that are completely unoriginal.
I know that when I go out the next few nights, dressed in full regalia, I will first and foremost be looking to simply have a good time with friends. However, I will also be keeping an eye out for attractive girls that seem to have creative and lucid thoughts between their ears (yang.)
If in my journey I happen to strike up a conversation with a really hot girl who I can tolerate but don't necessarily hit it off with and she wants to join me back at my house for a drink or two after the bar then I may oblige (yin) but that will likely be the extent of it. (Don't you judge me! I'm a single 24 year old guy and would like to keep it that way until a more attractive situation presents itself.)
On a completely unrelated note - while I'm still bitching about the eligible females I meet - can we please encourage girls to start eating double bacon cheeseburgers? I'm not sure who decided it was sexy for women to look like 7 year-old boy's but we need to switch that up STAT. What happened to a woman having curves and being soft? I don't want to see your abs or your rib cage so please start eating food and quit with the binge and purge method.
Remember kids: Be well, do good work and always know your dealer.
Cheers,
Miles.
It's Thursday...writing for a cause !!
Okay..so how fast can I type?!?!? Working on laptop without my power cord and already down to 70% power. I hate this laptop. So ready to buy a MAC. So how fast can I write and edit? Hmmm. Writing and editing ....brings back memories !!
I've never liked writing long book reports or English papers...things written to receive a grade. That's stressful to me. But I do have a small, hidden passion for writing; at least I used to. It's slowly coming back to me though.
I can remember when it started...elementary school, Mrs. Tribbit's sixth grade class. It was this mean teacher that sparked my interest in writing. I can remember a city-wide essay contest. Myself and another young lady were competing for a chance to have our essays entered in this city wide contest. I won (between the two of us) so my essay was submitted !!! The topic was something about what my city meant to me. Living in Washington, DC in 1987...hmmm, can't really remember what it meant to me. All I remember is being one of 12 or 13 city-wide winners and getting a chance to go to the Supreme Court and meet Justice Thurgood Marshall. Unfortunately, Mr. Marshall wasn't available that day for the award ceremony so we met his wife, Mrs. Cecilia Marshall. That was quite an experience if I must say so myself. Being honored at a ceremony at the Supreme Court, having my name appear in the Washington Post newspaper.... all in the sixth grade...wow !!!!
Next it went to Junior High school. Now I'm a little old so I can't recall the teacher's name here that, again, saw something in my writing and entered my writings in a few contests. She even convinced me to apply to Duke Ellington School of the Arts' Literary and Media Arts program. I was accepted to the school. I didn't go, for reasons that as an adult I now know were the dumbest reasons in the world. I often wonder what path my life would have taken had I gone to Duke Ellington.
High School came with some challenges....same teacher for three class periods in a row. That was torture for the mind. But again, now it was journal writing...everyday. Recently, mom did some house cleaning and gave me a lot of my stuff from high school and college. I was shocked to read some of my writings. I could still remember the reasons I wrote some of those things.
College (the first time around) was the same thing. Writing for a reason, with a passion. I even had a piece printed in the school newspaper.
And here we go again. College, Take Two !!! And this blog...my chance to do what I haven't done in years....write. I find I like using this opportunity as a chance to do something else I like, inspire. At least, I hope I inspire people. I know there are a number of people that inspire me to do different things in life. My family, my friends, even some co-workers inspire mean. A few of them inspire me to drink....but that's another blog !!!!
Recently, I've wondered exactly how far can I take this writing thing. My BFF Tara wants to write a book. I'm not looking to go that far. I have, however, had thoughts of finding out how I can be a contributing writer for Essence Magazine or have a poem published. I read the magazine faithfully each month so why not become a part of what I pay for. Hmmm, guess that's how I ended up blogging here !!!
Well until, next week people....be inspired. Step out on faith and take a chance with something you enjoy doing. Don't be afraid to take it to the next level. If I get an answer Essence Magazine while I'm still blogging this semester, I'll let you know what it reads !!!
Alright, Way to go.....blog written and 42% memory left. I'm good !!! Again, stay blessed until next week.
I've never liked writing long book reports or English papers...things written to receive a grade. That's stressful to me. But I do have a small, hidden passion for writing; at least I used to. It's slowly coming back to me though.
I can remember when it started...elementary school, Mrs. Tribbit's sixth grade class. It was this mean teacher that sparked my interest in writing. I can remember a city-wide essay contest. Myself and another young lady were competing for a chance to have our essays entered in this city wide contest. I won (between the two of us) so my essay was submitted !!! The topic was something about what my city meant to me. Living in Washington, DC in 1987...hmmm, can't really remember what it meant to me. All I remember is being one of 12 or 13 city-wide winners and getting a chance to go to the Supreme Court and meet Justice Thurgood Marshall. Unfortunately, Mr. Marshall wasn't available that day for the award ceremony so we met his wife, Mrs. Cecilia Marshall. That was quite an experience if I must say so myself. Being honored at a ceremony at the Supreme Court, having my name appear in the Washington Post newspaper.... all in the sixth grade...wow !!!!
Next it went to Junior High school. Now I'm a little old so I can't recall the teacher's name here that, again, saw something in my writing and entered my writings in a few contests. She even convinced me to apply to Duke Ellington School of the Arts' Literary and Media Arts program. I was accepted to the school. I didn't go, for reasons that as an adult I now know were the dumbest reasons in the world. I often wonder what path my life would have taken had I gone to Duke Ellington.
High School came with some challenges....same teacher for three class periods in a row. That was torture for the mind. But again, now it was journal writing...everyday. Recently, mom did some house cleaning and gave me a lot of my stuff from high school and college. I was shocked to read some of my writings. I could still remember the reasons I wrote some of those things.
College (the first time around) was the same thing. Writing for a reason, with a passion. I even had a piece printed in the school newspaper.
And here we go again. College, Take Two !!! And this blog...my chance to do what I haven't done in years....write. I find I like using this opportunity as a chance to do something else I like, inspire. At least, I hope I inspire people. I know there are a number of people that inspire me to do different things in life. My family, my friends, even some co-workers inspire mean. A few of them inspire me to drink....but that's another blog !!!!
Recently, I've wondered exactly how far can I take this writing thing. My BFF Tara wants to write a book. I'm not looking to go that far. I have, however, had thoughts of finding out how I can be a contributing writer for Essence Magazine or have a poem published. I read the magazine faithfully each month so why not become a part of what I pay for. Hmmm, guess that's how I ended up blogging here !!!
Well until, next week people....be inspired. Step out on faith and take a chance with something you enjoy doing. Don't be afraid to take it to the next level. If I get an answer Essence Magazine while I'm still blogging this semester, I'll let you know what it reads !!!
Alright, Way to go.....blog written and 42% memory left. I'm good !!! Again, stay blessed until next week.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Bar Bowl
Let me tell you about an awesome UB Law tradition that took place last weekend. It is called Bar Bowl, and it is amazing.
Bar Bowl is the law school's flag football tournament (to be fully accurate its two hand touch). It draws from all the years, although it appears that 1L and 2L teams are the most numerous. It is a double elimination tournament, played 8 on 8 on fields about 25 yards in total length. The SBA (Student Bar Association) sponsors it.
The football action was pretty exciting. It is coed, and there are of course rules about playing a certain number of females at all times. Interestingly, there are also rules about 'forced gender' plays, where a lady has to either throw, catch, or run with the ball. On the opposing side, none of the men can play defense. While at first it seems almost like a left handed compliment, it turned out that by virtue of having some really talented girls on our team, we ended up scoring on almost every single 'forced gender' play. In fact, the girls on our team probably scored 2/3 of all our points.
The competition was pretty fierce as well. Although the fitness levels varied greatly, most of the game seemed pretty close. We played two very close games that came down to the final drives, but did lose handily to the returning champs. The student refereeing was for the most part very good. Of course, you always find a few examples of bad sportsmanship, but in general the spirt was more have a good time than grind your opponents into the dirt.
Also, the faculty team was impressive to watch. Dean Closius is quite the athlete. I think its great that so many faculty members come out to these events with the students as well.
The other piece that I have neglected to mention about Bar Bowl, and part of what makes it so entertaining, is that it is a drinking event. Our team began at 9 am with a team stretch, followed by a team beer chug. Players were subbed out to waiting Mimosas. I think Milwaukee's Best, Pabst Blue Ribbon, and of course Mr. Natty Boh himself were de facto sponsors. This is also why our team of 20 made so much sense, about half way through the second game people were taking longer and longer breaks.
But of course, this is law school, and fortunately we have some experience with alcohol. As soon as our first game was over, we fired up the grill, and the SBA provided water and pizza to help balance out the booze. While much beer was consumed, and while people definitely 'loosened up' this event was free from major binge drinking or scarily high levels of intoxication. People got loud and laughed easily, but I did not observe anyone staggering (except from sore muscles). If anything, nothing makes quick friends like coed football, a grill, and cheap beer.
Bar Bowl is the law school's flag football tournament (to be fully accurate its two hand touch). It draws from all the years, although it appears that 1L and 2L teams are the most numerous. It is a double elimination tournament, played 8 on 8 on fields about 25 yards in total length. The SBA (Student Bar Association) sponsors it.
The football action was pretty exciting. It is coed, and there are of course rules about playing a certain number of females at all times. Interestingly, there are also rules about 'forced gender' plays, where a lady has to either throw, catch, or run with the ball. On the opposing side, none of the men can play defense. While at first it seems almost like a left handed compliment, it turned out that by virtue of having some really talented girls on our team, we ended up scoring on almost every single 'forced gender' play. In fact, the girls on our team probably scored 2/3 of all our points.
The competition was pretty fierce as well. Although the fitness levels varied greatly, most of the game seemed pretty close. We played two very close games that came down to the final drives, but did lose handily to the returning champs. The student refereeing was for the most part very good. Of course, you always find a few examples of bad sportsmanship, but in general the spirt was more have a good time than grind your opponents into the dirt.
Also, the faculty team was impressive to watch. Dean Closius is quite the athlete. I think its great that so many faculty members come out to these events with the students as well.
The other piece that I have neglected to mention about Bar Bowl, and part of what makes it so entertaining, is that it is a drinking event. Our team began at 9 am with a team stretch, followed by a team beer chug. Players were subbed out to waiting Mimosas. I think Milwaukee's Best, Pabst Blue Ribbon, and of course Mr. Natty Boh himself were de facto sponsors. This is also why our team of 20 made so much sense, about half way through the second game people were taking longer and longer breaks.
But of course, this is law school, and fortunately we have some experience with alcohol. As soon as our first game was over, we fired up the grill, and the SBA provided water and pizza to help balance out the booze. While much beer was consumed, and while people definitely 'loosened up' this event was free from major binge drinking or scarily high levels of intoxication. People got loud and laughed easily, but I did not observe anyone staggering (except from sore muscles). If anything, nothing makes quick friends like coed football, a grill, and cheap beer.
That's Bananas!
Monday, I went for a walk and slipped on a banana peel. I did not think this was actually possible. I always wondered about the ubiquity of banana peel slippage in cartoons, TV, and especially among clowns. I scoffed at it, to be entirely honest And then, on Monday, I was walkin' back from the grocery store and slipped on a banana peel. My boyfriend--Lane--then made me re-enact the slip so he could photograph it. He said I looked more like I was in a production of The Wiz than that I was falling. But, what are ya gonna do?
We also proceeded, for the next six blocks, to partake of some serious clown humour. Eerily, when I got home and put on Gilmore Girls--my favorite television show ever--there were then two references to banana pill slipping. And, as if this were not enough, Lane informed me that there is a statue on Mount Royal with some square thing on top of, you guessed it, a pile of banana peels.
I'm not completely dense. I get it all ready, Universe. You are sending me a message. A message about banana peels. But, I'll be honest, you could have been less cryptic. It can't be to eat more bananas because I'm a fan of the banana--potassium equals no leg cramps from much walking. So, what is it? Are you telling me to give up this creative writing bit and go to Clown College? Should I move to a tropic environment and become a banana picker? Or is it my destiny to have my death announcement read "Felled by a rogue banana peel"?
Fess up all ready! I can't walk anywhere with my head up because I'm watching for peels which means I look like a great muggable target. I'm afraid of the fruit department at the grocery store. And lets not talk about the prospect of going to a zoo; I don't have a brown paper bag handy.
And, seriously, there are cooler things I could be focused on. I'm missing the CEO of NPR talking a few floors above me as I type. But, I'm fixated on the why of the Great Banana Extravaganza of 2009. I have a book to make, two books to write about, and a poem to create. But do you know the only thing I can see? Banana peels! Either I was a chimp in a past life or bananas are sentient and are trying to tell me that they don't like being breakfast.
Of course, were the latter the case I would say there are better people to receive this message. Hey, maybe they want me to solve these horrible banana crimes. Maybe they were runaway bananas, just trying to get back to their bunch and now, like Haley Joel Osment, I see dead bananas. I just don't know!
Maybe I'll write a poem about these dead bananas. Maybe they just want me to give them a voice, to let their side of the tale be heard.
If so, I'm thankful that Thomas Sayers Ellis, performance poet, was a guest in class last week's class (which was cool and terrifying) and won't be here this week.
Oh, Banana Gods, what do you want from me?
Things I Found This Week: Never doubt Mom's rules, i.e. If in doubt, throw it out. (I may have poisoned myself on Saturday by eating chicken--bought that day--that was bad. I avoided poisoning myself today by throwing out taco shells that were sour. Yeah. I have a cooking gift.) Firefox is magic--I can cut and paste in Blogger now. And, very few people clean up after their dogs when it rains.
Things I Still Need to Find: What the bananas want! When they are showing Howl's Moving Castle in the Student Center. (I think the first week of November.) And, a good pair of tennis shoes for the gym.
We also proceeded, for the next six blocks, to partake of some serious clown humour. Eerily, when I got home and put on Gilmore Girls--my favorite television show ever--there were then two references to banana pill slipping. And, as if this were not enough, Lane informed me that there is a statue on Mount Royal with some square thing on top of, you guessed it, a pile of banana peels.
I'm not completely dense. I get it all ready, Universe. You are sending me a message. A message about banana peels. But, I'll be honest, you could have been less cryptic. It can't be to eat more bananas because I'm a fan of the banana--potassium equals no leg cramps from much walking. So, what is it? Are you telling me to give up this creative writing bit and go to Clown College? Should I move to a tropic environment and become a banana picker? Or is it my destiny to have my death announcement read "Felled by a rogue banana peel"?
Fess up all ready! I can't walk anywhere with my head up because I'm watching for peels which means I look like a great muggable target. I'm afraid of the fruit department at the grocery store. And lets not talk about the prospect of going to a zoo; I don't have a brown paper bag handy.
And, seriously, there are cooler things I could be focused on. I'm missing the CEO of NPR talking a few floors above me as I type. But, I'm fixated on the why of the Great Banana Extravaganza of 2009. I have a book to make, two books to write about, and a poem to create. But do you know the only thing I can see? Banana peels! Either I was a chimp in a past life or bananas are sentient and are trying to tell me that they don't like being breakfast.
Of course, were the latter the case I would say there are better people to receive this message. Hey, maybe they want me to solve these horrible banana crimes. Maybe they were runaway bananas, just trying to get back to their bunch and now, like Haley Joel Osment, I see dead bananas. I just don't know!
Maybe I'll write a poem about these dead bananas. Maybe they just want me to give them a voice, to let their side of the tale be heard.
If so, I'm thankful that Thomas Sayers Ellis, performance poet, was a guest in class last week's class (which was cool and terrifying) and won't be here this week.
Oh, Banana Gods, what do you want from me?
Things I Found This Week: Never doubt Mom's rules, i.e. If in doubt, throw it out. (I may have poisoned myself on Saturday by eating chicken--bought that day--that was bad. I avoided poisoning myself today by throwing out taco shells that were sour. Yeah. I have a cooking gift.) Firefox is magic--I can cut and paste in Blogger now. And, very few people clean up after their dogs when it rains.
Things I Still Need to Find: What the bananas want! When they are showing Howl's Moving Castle in the Student Center. (I think the first week of November.) And, a good pair of tennis shoes for the gym.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Squeezing A Workout
I started walking last Monday and stopped.
Monday yesterday I start again this time at the university. 30 mins on the bike and 15 mins. strength training.
I felt great!!! Felt the "high" of euphoria and all the feelings of goodness ready to go at it again today.
I dropped five pounds last week plus today. I'm not sure how that happened! There's a scale at the gym could check anytime but don't want to be obsessed with it.
It's a cool gym. I could bring my own dvds and play them on the tv and mat.
No donuts this week. No chips either. Went to Costco to get one of those party fruit bowls and load them up in a sandwich bag to take to school. Picked up yogurt. Gatorade. Sticking to healthy stuff.
Goals later on: Get the P90x program, exercise bands, protein shakes. Continue with Hip Hop Abs, Turbo Jam, and 10 mins Ab Solutions. Have coaches & workout mates on Team Beachbody. Thinking of getting a trainer for next semester to keep me on track and healthy.
Besides working out, I've catched up on classes. They're easy but easy to fall behind. Like Rain, it's a lot of reading, essay writing, and presentation. One of my class requires a presentation as a final. Need some practice before public speaking...Toastmaster is nearby.
I leave you with a current schedule on blocks of time:
Days I'm working:
6:00-6:30 wake, snooze, wake
6:30 Eat breakfast, get dressed
7:15 Drive to work
7:30 Work
12pm Home for a nap
Chillen, cook, shopping, FB, blogger
Traffic on Beltway
6:45 Get to college
Find a study room. Eat snack. Study.
7:30 Workout
8:00 Shower
8:30 - 11 Study
11:00 Drive home
11:30 Relax. Eat late dinner. Sometimes eat dinner at 5pm
12:30 - 1:30 Sleep
Not working, I get to the school by a decent hour by 6pm and study till 11pm when it closes. On Sundays by 3pm. I will gradually increase the workout time as I move along to one hour. I'm trying to exercise everyday this week and moderate it for every week. Maybe 30 mins of aerobic then add more strength training to 30-45 mins.
Monday yesterday I start again this time at the university. 30 mins on the bike and 15 mins. strength training.
I felt great!!! Felt the "high" of euphoria and all the feelings of goodness ready to go at it again today.
I dropped five pounds last week plus today. I'm not sure how that happened! There's a scale at the gym could check anytime but don't want to be obsessed with it.
It's a cool gym. I could bring my own dvds and play them on the tv and mat.
No donuts this week. No chips either. Went to Costco to get one of those party fruit bowls and load them up in a sandwich bag to take to school. Picked up yogurt. Gatorade. Sticking to healthy stuff.
Goals later on: Get the P90x program, exercise bands, protein shakes. Continue with Hip Hop Abs, Turbo Jam, and 10 mins Ab Solutions. Have coaches & workout mates on Team Beachbody. Thinking of getting a trainer for next semester to keep me on track and healthy.
Besides working out, I've catched up on classes. They're easy but easy to fall behind. Like Rain, it's a lot of reading, essay writing, and presentation. One of my class requires a presentation as a final. Need some practice before public speaking...Toastmaster is nearby.
I leave you with a current schedule on blocks of time:
Days I'm working:
6:00-6:30 wake, snooze, wake
6:30 Eat breakfast, get dressed
7:15 Drive to work
7:30 Work
12pm Home for a nap
Chillen, cook, shopping, FB, blogger
Traffic on Beltway
6:45 Get to college
Find a study room. Eat snack. Study.
7:30 Workout
8:00 Shower
8:30 - 11 Study
11:00 Drive home
11:30 Relax. Eat late dinner. Sometimes eat dinner at 5pm
12:30 - 1:30 Sleep
Not working, I get to the school by a decent hour by 6pm and study till 11pm when it closes. On Sundays by 3pm. I will gradually increase the workout time as I move along to one hour. I'm trying to exercise everyday this week and moderate it for every week. Maybe 30 mins of aerobic then add more strength training to 30-45 mins.
Monday, October 26, 2009
I Lost My Mojo!
When the semester first started I was unstoppable! I lived in Panera Bread studying, completing assignments, and creating flashcards. My two best friends even came there to visit me for help and moral support. I was almost like a permanent fixture in that little cozy restaurant, learning the names of the workers and memorizing the faces of the students who came there just as often as I did. Soon though, I got sick with a nasty cold and allowed a few other things to grab my attention, and then lost all motivation to be successful this semester. Like a visit to the dentist, I just want it to be over! This is certainly not the time to slack off because the workload is getting more heavier and the assignments more involved. I know this is just the beginning for me in my endeavor to finish college, but right now I can't see the forest for the trees! I haven't lost all hope for myself yet, so today I plan on making up some sort of study schedule to pull through these last few weeks. A break is on the horizon and I'll be happier than a kid on Christmas when it comes!
Friday, October 23, 2009
One week till Halloween
So what will you be this Halloween? And where are you going for the big night?
Halloween is one of my favorite holidays and I usually have my costume planned months ahead. Except this year. I couldn't think of any brilliant ideas, so I've settled on being a witch. But there's got to be something better out there, more original. I need your help! What were you last year? What was your second choice this year? (I don't want to be the same thing as you! That would be embarrassing.)
I was also planning on going to Fells Point that night, more to see what other people are wearing and less about drinking--it's impossible to get into the bars after 10pm on Halloween. Do you know of a less-crowded place with super people-watching potential?
Halloween is one of my favorite holidays and I usually have my costume planned months ahead. Except this year. I couldn't think of any brilliant ideas, so I've settled on being a witch. But there's got to be something better out there, more original. I need your help! What were you last year? What was your second choice this year? (I don't want to be the same thing as you! That would be embarrassing.)
I was also planning on going to Fells Point that night, more to see what other people are wearing and less about drinking--it's impossible to get into the bars after 10pm on Halloween. Do you know of a less-crowded place with super people-watching potential?
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Friendships
Wow ! What a Saturday I had. Despite all that nasty, cold rain, my evening turned out great. I spent Saturday in the company of some very special young ladies....all of whom have touched my life in some special way. We spent hours talking about EVERYTHING....men, relationships, children, owning homes, speed dating ...yes speed dating !!! We watched infomercials and laughed, old episodes of Soul Train and laughed. They say laughter is good for the soul (and exercise...it burns calories) I'm sure we burned quite a few cause we laughed at everything and everybody til 3 in the morning...yes 3 AM !!! We think we grown !!
Then Monday, my office boyfriend (no mom...I'm not cheating on Terrance !!!) Terrance has met my office boyfriend ! But on Monday, he brought me a lunch to die for...meatloaf, rice, cabbage, greens, carrots, cornbread, biscuit and cake. You'd think this boy was from the South the way he cook !!!
One thing my friends know is they are very special to me.
Friends are like a glove to a baseball player. You can buy one but it takes time for it to mold itself to your hand. Mold itself to the point that you don't want another. Or they're like a good cast iron skillet to a cook. Once you get it "seasoned" you just want to cook all your favorite meals in it !!! When I find a person I like and the relationship grows that I call you a friend, you know you have arrived. I don't take my friendships lightly and hope they don't either.
Besides Terrelle (only known him a short while but he is a good Christian young man so I know this will be a good friendship), all of my true friends have been in my life at least 10 years or more ...Tara been there for about 18 years now. My friends know me and my heart. They stand by me. They support me. They wipe my tears. The encourage me...tell me it'll be okay, don't worry about it, have faith....all the things REAL friends should do for someone.
Sadly though, one thing falls by the wayside....telling them that often. It's easy to email, text, IM but can you pick up the phone and talk? Really talk? I don't always do, I'll admit it, but it's days like this past Saturday that helps us get back to that. We all have our lives, marriages, kids, jobs, church events but luckily Saturday, Tonyia helped us get back to our social selves. Prior to that it was me hosting a dinner during football game complete with a fried turkey..yummy (check out that picture !!!)!!
Then Monday, my office boyfriend (no mom...I'm not cheating on Terrance !!!) Terrance has met my office boyfriend ! But on Monday, he brought me a lunch to die for...meatloaf, rice, cabbage, greens, carrots, cornbread, biscuit and cake. You'd think this boy was from the South the way he cook !!!
One thing my friends know is they are very special to me.
Friends are like a glove to a baseball player. You can buy one but it takes time for it to mold itself to your hand. Mold itself to the point that you don't want another. Or they're like a good cast iron skillet to a cook. Once you get it "seasoned" you just want to cook all your favorite meals in it !!! When I find a person I like and the relationship grows that I call you a friend, you know you have arrived. I don't take my friendships lightly and hope they don't either.
Besides Terrelle (only known him a short while but he is a good Christian young man so I know this will be a good friendship), all of my true friends have been in my life at least 10 years or more ...Tara been there for about 18 years now. My friends know me and my heart. They stand by me. They support me. They wipe my tears. The encourage me...tell me it'll be okay, don't worry about it, have faith....all the things REAL friends should do for someone.
Sadly though, one thing falls by the wayside....telling them that often. It's easy to email, text, IM but can you pick up the phone and talk? Really talk? I don't always do, I'll admit it, but it's days like this past Saturday that helps us get back to that. We all have our lives, marriages, kids, jobs, church events but luckily Saturday, Tonyia helped us get back to our social selves. Prior to that it was me hosting a dinner during football game complete with a fried turkey..yummy (check out that picture !!!)!!
But really people. Talk to your friends. You never know what day may be the last day you'll talk to them. Let them know you love them, care about them, you support them. They need to hear it and you need to say it.
So friends: I LOVE YA'LL !!!
This blog is dedicated to our friend Samantha W. Walker (Sam). It's been 7 years since you left us physically and we miss you girl and we haven't stopped talking about all the laughs you brought to our lives. RIP.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Euphoria --> Rock Bottom --> New Zenith --> Rock Bottomless
I want to first apologize for not getting my post in last week. After getting a brief, school appropriate, run down on my week I think you'll not only forgive me but possibly even commend me.
Background:
Last week I was in Lagos and Lisbon, Portugal and Barcelona, Spain. I was out of the country for two weeks total - the first week was a school trip (yang) which, if you are really interested in, you can read about on my travel blog at the URL listed below. My second week abroad, however, I elected to indulge myself in some of the finer things in life (yin.) If you know me personally please stop reading now as you will likely lose respect for me. If you don't know me personally but, for some reason, have some respect for me thus far after reading my first three blogs, please stop reading now, as you will also likely lose the little respect you might have for me.
I may have mentioned that when I decided to get away for a while a few of my boys caught wind and decided to jump on board and join the party for the second week. When I am at home with these kids we pretty much get down with the get down, killing it on a regular basis. The utter debauchery that ensued when we met up in Europe, however, is something that I am still attempting to wrap my head around.
Euphoria:
Perhaps it was something in the water where we were staying. Perhaps there was a different chemical make-up in the air. Perhaps we brought it with us from the States like a foreign virus wreaking havoc on the local society; OR Perhaps it was the fact that we were in another country, staying in hostels that said things like: if you do not like to party 24/7 you should look into staying at a different hostel in town, OR if you don't get laid here you're definitely gay, who gave us our own room (which they would later regret and make us pay for), where we had too much dough, not enough sleep, 1 Euro absinthe shots, 1 Euro beers, a member of the crew that put $5,000 down on black at a roulette table his first bet during his first night in Lisbon and doubled up who made it his nightly mission to, from henceforth, put at least one starving agave plantation owners child through school at last call (not to mention several other children throughout the night), partying with a throng of attractive females from the States, studying abroad in Seville, visiting for the weekend who had been with the same boring dudes for the past month and half, in a city where the male to female ratio favored us damn near two to one, where a paradigm shift had occurred leading to a complete role reversal between sexes, where men now get hit on, competed for, and 12 euro ($18) drinks bought for them by the most gorgeous women on the planet all concentrated in one central location, where it is legal to drink in the street in broad daylight, where partying doesn't truly start 'til 3 am and clubs don't close 'til 7 am, where the women lying on the gorgeous secluded beaches with turquoise water lapping at their toes have already done half the work for you by removing their tops.
Likelihood has it that it wasn't any of these factors individually but a combination of all of them that led to the unmentionables of the next seven days. The details, as I've mentioned, are not appropriate for this blog. I can let you know that I had a hell of a time and I would (and will) do it again. Most all of the stories from the week sing to the same tune to varying degrees until Thursday, October 15th.
Rock Bottom:
Every body - actual human body, that is - has a breaking point. Mine was roughly 40 hours before the finish line of a 14 day marathon. After partying all day, everyday for 12 days strait with roughly 3 hours of sleep a night, my mind was tellin' me yeah, but mah boddddyy . . . mahh boddyy was tellin' me NOO.
I'm sure most everyone has woken up and, for at least a brief moment, had no clue where they were. The majority of you likely experienced this due to being woken up in the middle of sleep and not quite being awake yet. The rest of us have other, less legit, reasons so don't judge us.
I woke up Thursday afternoon at 2:40 PM in a bunk bed, barely being able to breathe, with a half eaten apple pasted to my face and an official looking piece of paper laying next to me in bed. For a solid 5 minutes I had absolutely no idea where I was. I knew two things for sure: 1.) I had not been this sick for nearly a decade; and 2.) the last time I slept in a bunk bed I was probably 8 years old. Time travel perhaps? Everything came rushing back to me very quickly as soon as two of my boys came into the room. Barcelona hostel, breakfast apple, almost got arrested "last night" for public intoxication at 9 am. Grossly sick and hungover I make my way down to a pharmacy with my boy Koce. I try to buy the recommended cold/sinus remedy with my debit card. Declined. Koce gives the cashier money and we walk out. I borrow his phone to call my bank. 30 minutes later (at $.99 a minute) we're on a pier in a nice section of Barca and I've found out that when I was in Lagos I put my card into an ATM that someone had put a "skimmer" on and thus lifted my card number. Bank of America informed me that my card was now frozen and I would not be able to access my account until I got back to the States. 12 hours left in Barca, zero cash, ridiculous sick, nearly arrested the night before. I think to myself: Self, how much worse can this get? I pull out my cold remedy, some sort of throat spray, and spray it, as directed, three times into the back of my throat. Clearly affluent, nicely dressed couples all around. First spray: At the same time my mind is thinking "HOLY PEPPER, VINEGAR, ACID HATE," my body is physically rejecting what has just happened. I run the 5 steps to the edge of the pier hacking up what I've just sprayed into my throat and eventually hurl over the side, and I am NOT a quiet puker. As several disgusted heads turn my way a cop heads towards me with a vengeance, presumably to arrest me, and is intercepted by Koce. Fortunately, Koci speaks Spanish well enough that he convinced this cop that I wasn't drunk in public (again) but just got something caught in my throat. Just then the disgustingly overcast skies start to pour. I quickly realize that we are no longer in Lisbon, where it is 85 degrees and sunny, so my jeans and tee aren't quite going to cut it in this 60 degree rain.
New Zenith:
Later that night, after an absolutely dismal day, I managed to get back to the hostel and lay down for 30-45 minutes before we needed to get ready to go out - Koce didn't want me staying in my last night so he threw me 200 euro to go out that night and to get home. After showering up and getting fresh to death we went downstairs to the hostel bar to try to meet some kids staying there. As if by magic (see paradigm shift in 3rd paragraph under "Background:" heading), within 45 minutes we were all a few beers deep and had met two groups of girls (two from the States and two from Australia.) After a few more beers and redbull vodkas it was time for us to go - the hostel has worked out a deal with several area nightclubs where every night at 1:45 am anyone from the hostel interested in going is welcomed to come along to the club du jour where cover is waived and your first drink is free. Tonight we were going to Catwalk (read: god's gift to man.) When we arrived at the Catwalk all of my boys quickly realized that it was 2:30 am and that I had to catch a plane at 6:30 am at the Barca airport 30 minutes away - they were staying another 2 days. For the next hour the drinks and shots that ensued were of a monsoon like nature and kids were raging with a reason. I left Catwalk at 3:45ish with my friend Steph, from Australia, and went back to the hostel to grab my things. . .
Rock Bottomless:
I made it to the Barcelona airport by 5 am, far from sober, fortunately making it to my gate 5 or so minutes before closing. The plane from Barcelona to Lisbon was cake - an hour and fifteen minutes. Board my flight from Lisbon to Philly just in time, once again, and grab my aisle seat in the back with no one sitting in the seat next to me - this journey is going to be cake . . . not so much.
I do not sleep on airplanes. I cannot sleep on airplanes. I have been known to try to medicate myself with Dramamine and booze in order to sleep on airplanes and once or twice I've been successful. Half way through my flight I decide to look at my dying phone to check the time . . . 2 hours into an 8 hour flight. Half way? Not so much. Breakfast and a few repulsive E! Celebrity programs later almost half way through. Somebody please figure out a way for me to end my life. Plug the headphones into the BlackBerry possibly allowing myself to lullaby myself to sleep. Almost all the way through an album the phone dies and I wake up . . . 20 minutes later. . .
Excuse me could I please have a Canadian Club and Ginger ale? Uh, It's pretty early let me see if we're serving that. Sorry sir the current time is 11 am we don't serve alcohol 'til noon. Sir, I understand you probably deal with a lot of assholes in your line of work and I'm not trying to be one of those people but I left the club at 3:30 am and got strait onto a plane in Barcelona and strait onto this plane. Where I come from it is still nightime. Would you mind asking again? . . . Here's your Canadian Club, sir. And would you prefer Canada Dry or Schweppes Ginger Ale? Schweppes please. Absolutely, here you are. You are a scholar and a gentleman thank you. 5 CC and Ginger's later: Sir you're not driving when you get off the plane are you? No ma'am. Do you promise? Sure do, I gotta go to Baltimore still!
Looking out the window I see land - we can't be that much further. This notion gets me through the next 45 min - hour until someone explains that the land is Nova Scotia. What the eff are we doing over top of Nova Scotia going from Lisbon to Philly? The logic I now understand but was simply not having at the time. A few airplane magazine's later and we were starting our 40 minute descent into Philly. "I'm free at last, I'm free at last, I'm free at last, I'm free at LAST, I'm free at last." Coming into Philly I was 20 minutes late as we needed to circle around the airport and come in from the opposite side due to the weather. I figured this would put me in with just enough time to catch my flight to Baltimore. Rushing to get to the opposite side of the airport to catch my flight I almost miss it only to find out that it has been delayed due to the weather. Please just get me home!!!!
I was originally due home at 4:10. At 4:25 my plane from Philly to B-more takes off. This flight is, in theory, only 13 minutes long. This is the longest 13 minutes of your life when you are sitting next to George Costanza's mom - seriously, an old jewish woman with horribly died red hair who is a Florida snow bird from New York and is SERIOUSLY off her rocker.
The following is to be read in a Jewish, New York, Grandma's accent with less than 3-4 seconds pause in between each statement/question:
The propeller's aren't moving yet. Why aren't the propeller's moving? We're going backwards, shouldn't we be going forward? If we're going to get where we're going we need to be going forward. How is the plane turning the propeller's aren't moving. Our seats are directly underneath the wing. Our seats are underneath the wing. We're slowing down. We're stopping. We're stopped. What'd they want with your bag? (This is a tiny express jet that only allows small hand bags as actually carry-ons. All other carry-ons get checked before boarding, placed in the berth, and are returned upon your exiting the plane.) Your going to lose your bag and then you won't have any underpants like last time. You should go find out what happened to your bag. Old man not wanting to hear the noise anymore unbuckles his seat belt and tries to stand up and make his way to the front of the plane to ask as to the whereabouts of his bag (which I personally witnessed 2 airline employees explain to him in depth for 5 minutes a piece already.) Sir you cannot get out of your seat right now the plane is about to take off! Please get back to your seat and buckle your safety belt immediately!! As the man is making his way back to his seat his wife staring outside as if the previous conversation between them had never taken place: The propeller's are going full speed. The wheels are moving. The propeller's are going full speed. Our seats are directly underneath the wing. We're going fast now. We're taking off. The wheel's have left the runway. We're in the air. Where are we going? How many flights have we been on today so far? It seems so silly that we need to travel up to Philadelphia to go down to Baltimore. Our seats are directly beneath the wing. Pilot coming over the PA: Welcoming to US Airways flight number 4263 with service into BWI. We will arriving in Baltimore in approximately 10 minutes. I hope you enjoy this short flight with us today and thanks for flying US Airways. Welcome? How am I supposed to feel welcome when they won't even turn on the lights? (significantly louder now as if trying to talk to an airline staff) HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FEEL WELCOME WHEN THEY WON'T EVEN TURN ON THE LIGHTS?! Who booked these flights for us anyways? Amber did. Has she ever flown before? You would think that Amber of all people would book. . .
This continued for the next 20+ minutes, through landing, taxi-ing to the terminal and departing the plane. I apologize for putting you through half of that if you did indeed read all of it. However, at this point in time I am about 2 seconds away from yelling bomb just so TSA will come on board and I can swallow one of their pistols.
These small aircraft don't get an actual gate at BWI, instead you step out onto the tarmac, grab your checked carry-ons and get on a bus that takes you to a terminal. 7 more minutes of this woman talking - seriously thinking about jumping out of the bus and pulling the old tuck and roll but think better of it as I'm holding my guitar, worth more than my life.
My bag is the first out - praise god from whom all blessings flow - I grab it and roll OUT!! "I'm free at last, I'm free at last, I'm free at last, I'm free at LAST, I'm free at last." I throw $1.60 into the MTA light rail machine, grab my ticket and dip. HOLY RIDICULOUS COLD McSIDEWAYS RAIN!!! I jump on the light rail and sit . . . and sit . . .and sit. 15-20 minutes later we begin to move. My stop is the Cultural Center 13 STOPS AWAY!! Breathe in, breathe out. Float like a butterfly sting like a bee. 1, 2, 3, 4, . . . Don't do it, it would be a shame to kill yourself after all of that.
Finally I'm off at the cultural center. Only a 5 minute walk to the crib, you can make it. Over the next 5 minutes my fantasies about opening the door to my apartment, dropping everything I have in my hands and removing my smelly, club sweat in, plane sweat in, haven't showered in too long in clothes on the way downstairs to my bed become damn near orgasmic. When I get into my house I do just that and when I get downstairs I instantly remember the worst decision that I have made in years:
I told one of my boys that he could have a party at my place while I was gone for his birthday. Knowing that it would get rowdy I locked the door to my bedroom. The door had been kicked in, the room was a wreck, my bed was completely torn apart, my mattress was still brown and glass still on my floor from where a full handle of van gogh espresso vodka had exploded.
It is currently 7 pm EDT. I have been up since 3 pm Barcelona time the day before (a full 36 hours now.) During that time I: realized I almost got arrested last night, would've gotten AIDS from the girl I was about to hook up with if the cops didn't hassle me for being drunk in the streets, realized my credit card number was stolen and thought I was going to be stranded in the middle of Europe S.O.L. indefinitely, got the worst illness I've had in a decade, almost got arrested again for puking from the medication which was supposed to alleviate the pain, got cold rained on in a t-shirt on the top of a city tour bus while sick and the most miserable I've ever been to date, sucked it up and partied my last night in Barca getting entirely too tossed for my own good, hooked up with a fine Australian girl almost causing me to miss my flight, traveled through 6 time zones from Barcelona to Lisbon to Philly to Baltimore over a period of 18 hours, got hungover again, got more sick, put a quick CC and Ginger band aid on it, listened to the equivalent of 18 hours worth of the most piercing old grandma, jewish, new york accent you can imagine talking about literally nothing, came from the 85 degree, sun-drenched, beaches of Lagos to the 35 degree, sideways "little stinging rain," concrete jungle of Baltimore and all I want right now is my bed. I am almost jovial right now that no one is home because I would strait lose any relationship that I once had with anyone if I came into contact with them.
Tony Robbin's:
If the moral of the story isn't apparent yet "just go ahead and ring your call button and we'll have Tommy Boy here come hit you over the head with a tack hammer, because you are a retard!!"
When life (read: the universe) speaks to you listen. If you don't pick up on the message the first time it will get sent louder and more clear (read: much worse for you.) If you can navigate your way through the small lessons you'll never crash and burn on the big lessons.
I didn't say that I take my own advice. I just give it - it's much easier said than done.
Remember kids: Be well, do good work and always know your dealer.
Cheers,
Miles.
P.S. If you've made it this far in my absolutely ridiculous rant then there's a chance you're actually somewhat interested in what I write. If you simply can't get enough check out all of travels on my blog: milestoportugal.blogspot.com
Background:
Last week I was in Lagos and Lisbon, Portugal and Barcelona, Spain. I was out of the country for two weeks total - the first week was a school trip (yang) which, if you are really interested in, you can read about on my travel blog at the URL listed below. My second week abroad, however, I elected to indulge myself in some of the finer things in life (yin.) If you know me personally please stop reading now as you will likely lose respect for me. If you don't know me personally but, for some reason, have some respect for me thus far after reading my first three blogs, please stop reading now, as you will also likely lose the little respect you might have for me.
I may have mentioned that when I decided to get away for a while a few of my boys caught wind and decided to jump on board and join the party for the second week. When I am at home with these kids we pretty much get down with the get down, killing it on a regular basis. The utter debauchery that ensued when we met up in Europe, however, is something that I am still attempting to wrap my head around.
Euphoria:
Perhaps it was something in the water where we were staying. Perhaps there was a different chemical make-up in the air. Perhaps we brought it with us from the States like a foreign virus wreaking havoc on the local society; OR Perhaps it was the fact that we were in another country, staying in hostels that said things like: if you do not like to party 24/7 you should look into staying at a different hostel in town, OR if you don't get laid here you're definitely gay, who gave us our own room (which they would later regret and make us pay for), where we had too much dough, not enough sleep, 1 Euro absinthe shots, 1 Euro beers, a member of the crew that put $5,000 down on black at a roulette table his first bet during his first night in Lisbon and doubled up who made it his nightly mission to, from henceforth, put at least one starving agave plantation owners child through school at last call (not to mention several other children throughout the night), partying with a throng of attractive females from the States, studying abroad in Seville, visiting for the weekend who had been with the same boring dudes for the past month and half, in a city where the male to female ratio favored us damn near two to one, where a paradigm shift had occurred leading to a complete role reversal between sexes, where men now get hit on, competed for, and 12 euro ($18) drinks bought for them by the most gorgeous women on the planet all concentrated in one central location, where it is legal to drink in the street in broad daylight, where partying doesn't truly start 'til 3 am and clubs don't close 'til 7 am, where the women lying on the gorgeous secluded beaches with turquoise water lapping at their toes have already done half the work for you by removing their tops.
Likelihood has it that it wasn't any of these factors individually but a combination of all of them that led to the unmentionables of the next seven days. The details, as I've mentioned, are not appropriate for this blog. I can let you know that I had a hell of a time and I would (and will) do it again. Most all of the stories from the week sing to the same tune to varying degrees until Thursday, October 15th.
Rock Bottom:
Every body - actual human body, that is - has a breaking point. Mine was roughly 40 hours before the finish line of a 14 day marathon. After partying all day, everyday for 12 days strait with roughly 3 hours of sleep a night, my mind was tellin' me yeah, but mah boddddyy . . . mahh boddyy was tellin' me NOO.
I'm sure most everyone has woken up and, for at least a brief moment, had no clue where they were. The majority of you likely experienced this due to being woken up in the middle of sleep and not quite being awake yet. The rest of us have other, less legit, reasons so don't judge us.
I woke up Thursday afternoon at 2:40 PM in a bunk bed, barely being able to breathe, with a half eaten apple pasted to my face and an official looking piece of paper laying next to me in bed. For a solid 5 minutes I had absolutely no idea where I was. I knew two things for sure: 1.) I had not been this sick for nearly a decade; and 2.) the last time I slept in a bunk bed I was probably 8 years old. Time travel perhaps? Everything came rushing back to me very quickly as soon as two of my boys came into the room. Barcelona hostel, breakfast apple, almost got arrested "last night" for public intoxication at 9 am. Grossly sick and hungover I make my way down to a pharmacy with my boy Koce. I try to buy the recommended cold/sinus remedy with my debit card. Declined. Koce gives the cashier money and we walk out. I borrow his phone to call my bank. 30 minutes later (at $.99 a minute) we're on a pier in a nice section of Barca and I've found out that when I was in Lagos I put my card into an ATM that someone had put a "skimmer" on and thus lifted my card number. Bank of America informed me that my card was now frozen and I would not be able to access my account until I got back to the States. 12 hours left in Barca, zero cash, ridiculous sick, nearly arrested the night before. I think to myself: Self, how much worse can this get? I pull out my cold remedy, some sort of throat spray, and spray it, as directed, three times into the back of my throat. Clearly affluent, nicely dressed couples all around. First spray: At the same time my mind is thinking "HOLY PEPPER, VINEGAR, ACID HATE," my body is physically rejecting what has just happened. I run the 5 steps to the edge of the pier hacking up what I've just sprayed into my throat and eventually hurl over the side, and I am NOT a quiet puker. As several disgusted heads turn my way a cop heads towards me with a vengeance, presumably to arrest me, and is intercepted by Koce. Fortunately, Koci speaks Spanish well enough that he convinced this cop that I wasn't drunk in public (again) but just got something caught in my throat. Just then the disgustingly overcast skies start to pour. I quickly realize that we are no longer in Lisbon, where it is 85 degrees and sunny, so my jeans and tee aren't quite going to cut it in this 60 degree rain.
New Zenith:
Later that night, after an absolutely dismal day, I managed to get back to the hostel and lay down for 30-45 minutes before we needed to get ready to go out - Koce didn't want me staying in my last night so he threw me 200 euro to go out that night and to get home. After showering up and getting fresh to death we went downstairs to the hostel bar to try to meet some kids staying there. As if by magic (see paradigm shift in 3rd paragraph under "Background:" heading), within 45 minutes we were all a few beers deep and had met two groups of girls (two from the States and two from Australia.) After a few more beers and redbull vodkas it was time for us to go - the hostel has worked out a deal with several area nightclubs where every night at 1:45 am anyone from the hostel interested in going is welcomed to come along to the club du jour where cover is waived and your first drink is free. Tonight we were going to Catwalk (read: god's gift to man.) When we arrived at the Catwalk all of my boys quickly realized that it was 2:30 am and that I had to catch a plane at 6:30 am at the Barca airport 30 minutes away - they were staying another 2 days. For the next hour the drinks and shots that ensued were of a monsoon like nature and kids were raging with a reason. I left Catwalk at 3:45ish with my friend Steph, from Australia, and went back to the hostel to grab my things. . .
Rock Bottomless:
I made it to the Barcelona airport by 5 am, far from sober, fortunately making it to my gate 5 or so minutes before closing. The plane from Barcelona to Lisbon was cake - an hour and fifteen minutes. Board my flight from Lisbon to Philly just in time, once again, and grab my aisle seat in the back with no one sitting in the seat next to me - this journey is going to be cake . . . not so much.
I do not sleep on airplanes. I cannot sleep on airplanes. I have been known to try to medicate myself with Dramamine and booze in order to sleep on airplanes and once or twice I've been successful. Half way through my flight I decide to look at my dying phone to check the time . . . 2 hours into an 8 hour flight. Half way? Not so much. Breakfast and a few repulsive E! Celebrity programs later almost half way through. Somebody please figure out a way for me to end my life. Plug the headphones into the BlackBerry possibly allowing myself to lullaby myself to sleep. Almost all the way through an album the phone dies and I wake up . . . 20 minutes later. . .
Excuse me could I please have a Canadian Club and Ginger ale? Uh, It's pretty early let me see if we're serving that. Sorry sir the current time is 11 am we don't serve alcohol 'til noon. Sir, I understand you probably deal with a lot of assholes in your line of work and I'm not trying to be one of those people but I left the club at 3:30 am and got strait onto a plane in Barcelona and strait onto this plane. Where I come from it is still nightime. Would you mind asking again? . . . Here's your Canadian Club, sir. And would you prefer Canada Dry or Schweppes Ginger Ale? Schweppes please. Absolutely, here you are. You are a scholar and a gentleman thank you. 5 CC and Ginger's later: Sir you're not driving when you get off the plane are you? No ma'am. Do you promise? Sure do, I gotta go to Baltimore still!
Looking out the window I see land - we can't be that much further. This notion gets me through the next 45 min - hour until someone explains that the land is Nova Scotia. What the eff are we doing over top of Nova Scotia going from Lisbon to Philly? The logic I now understand but was simply not having at the time. A few airplane magazine's later and we were starting our 40 minute descent into Philly. "I'm free at last, I'm free at last, I'm free at last, I'm free at LAST, I'm free at last." Coming into Philly I was 20 minutes late as we needed to circle around the airport and come in from the opposite side due to the weather. I figured this would put me in with just enough time to catch my flight to Baltimore. Rushing to get to the opposite side of the airport to catch my flight I almost miss it only to find out that it has been delayed due to the weather. Please just get me home!!!!
I was originally due home at 4:10. At 4:25 my plane from Philly to B-more takes off. This flight is, in theory, only 13 minutes long. This is the longest 13 minutes of your life when you are sitting next to George Costanza's mom - seriously, an old jewish woman with horribly died red hair who is a Florida snow bird from New York and is SERIOUSLY off her rocker.
The following is to be read in a Jewish, New York, Grandma's accent with less than 3-4 seconds pause in between each statement/question:
The propeller's aren't moving yet. Why aren't the propeller's moving? We're going backwards, shouldn't we be going forward? If we're going to get where we're going we need to be going forward. How is the plane turning the propeller's aren't moving. Our seats are directly underneath the wing. Our seats are underneath the wing. We're slowing down. We're stopping. We're stopped. What'd they want with your bag? (This is a tiny express jet that only allows small hand bags as actually carry-ons. All other carry-ons get checked before boarding, placed in the berth, and are returned upon your exiting the plane.) Your going to lose your bag and then you won't have any underpants like last time. You should go find out what happened to your bag. Old man not wanting to hear the noise anymore unbuckles his seat belt and tries to stand up and make his way to the front of the plane to ask as to the whereabouts of his bag (which I personally witnessed 2 airline employees explain to him in depth for 5 minutes a piece already.) Sir you cannot get out of your seat right now the plane is about to take off! Please get back to your seat and buckle your safety belt immediately!! As the man is making his way back to his seat his wife staring outside as if the previous conversation between them had never taken place: The propeller's are going full speed. The wheels are moving. The propeller's are going full speed. Our seats are directly underneath the wing. We're going fast now. We're taking off. The wheel's have left the runway. We're in the air. Where are we going? How many flights have we been on today so far? It seems so silly that we need to travel up to Philadelphia to go down to Baltimore. Our seats are directly beneath the wing. Pilot coming over the PA: Welcoming to US Airways flight number 4263 with service into BWI. We will arriving in Baltimore in approximately 10 minutes. I hope you enjoy this short flight with us today and thanks for flying US Airways. Welcome? How am I supposed to feel welcome when they won't even turn on the lights? (significantly louder now as if trying to talk to an airline staff) HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FEEL WELCOME WHEN THEY WON'T EVEN TURN ON THE LIGHTS?! Who booked these flights for us anyways? Amber did. Has she ever flown before? You would think that Amber of all people would book. . .
This continued for the next 20+ minutes, through landing, taxi-ing to the terminal and departing the plane. I apologize for putting you through half of that if you did indeed read all of it. However, at this point in time I am about 2 seconds away from yelling bomb just so TSA will come on board and I can swallow one of their pistols.
These small aircraft don't get an actual gate at BWI, instead you step out onto the tarmac, grab your checked carry-ons and get on a bus that takes you to a terminal. 7 more minutes of this woman talking - seriously thinking about jumping out of the bus and pulling the old tuck and roll but think better of it as I'm holding my guitar, worth more than my life.
My bag is the first out - praise god from whom all blessings flow - I grab it and roll OUT!! "I'm free at last, I'm free at last, I'm free at last, I'm free at LAST, I'm free at last." I throw $1.60 into the MTA light rail machine, grab my ticket and dip. HOLY RIDICULOUS COLD McSIDEWAYS RAIN!!! I jump on the light rail and sit . . . and sit . . .and sit. 15-20 minutes later we begin to move. My stop is the Cultural Center 13 STOPS AWAY!! Breathe in, breathe out. Float like a butterfly sting like a bee. 1, 2, 3, 4, . . . Don't do it, it would be a shame to kill yourself after all of that.
Finally I'm off at the cultural center. Only a 5 minute walk to the crib, you can make it. Over the next 5 minutes my fantasies about opening the door to my apartment, dropping everything I have in my hands and removing my smelly, club sweat in, plane sweat in, haven't showered in too long in clothes on the way downstairs to my bed become damn near orgasmic. When I get into my house I do just that and when I get downstairs I instantly remember the worst decision that I have made in years:
I told one of my boys that he could have a party at my place while I was gone for his birthday. Knowing that it would get rowdy I locked the door to my bedroom. The door had been kicked in, the room was a wreck, my bed was completely torn apart, my mattress was still brown and glass still on my floor from where a full handle of van gogh espresso vodka had exploded.
It is currently 7 pm EDT. I have been up since 3 pm Barcelona time the day before (a full 36 hours now.) During that time I: realized I almost got arrested last night, would've gotten AIDS from the girl I was about to hook up with if the cops didn't hassle me for being drunk in the streets, realized my credit card number was stolen and thought I was going to be stranded in the middle of Europe S.O.L. indefinitely, got the worst illness I've had in a decade, almost got arrested again for puking from the medication which was supposed to alleviate the pain, got cold rained on in a t-shirt on the top of a city tour bus while sick and the most miserable I've ever been to date, sucked it up and partied my last night in Barca getting entirely too tossed for my own good, hooked up with a fine Australian girl almost causing me to miss my flight, traveled through 6 time zones from Barcelona to Lisbon to Philly to Baltimore over a period of 18 hours, got hungover again, got more sick, put a quick CC and Ginger band aid on it, listened to the equivalent of 18 hours worth of the most piercing old grandma, jewish, new york accent you can imagine talking about literally nothing, came from the 85 degree, sun-drenched, beaches of Lagos to the 35 degree, sideways "little stinging rain," concrete jungle of Baltimore and all I want right now is my bed. I am almost jovial right now that no one is home because I would strait lose any relationship that I once had with anyone if I came into contact with them.
Tony Robbin's:
If the moral of the story isn't apparent yet "just go ahead and ring your call button and we'll have Tommy Boy here come hit you over the head with a tack hammer, because you are a retard!!"
When life (read: the universe) speaks to you listen. If you don't pick up on the message the first time it will get sent louder and more clear (read: much worse for you.) If you can navigate your way through the small lessons you'll never crash and burn on the big lessons.
I didn't say that I take my own advice. I just give it - it's much easier said than done.
Remember kids: Be well, do good work and always know your dealer.
Cheers,
Miles.
P.S. If you've made it this far in my absolutely ridiculous rant then there's a chance you're actually somewhat interested in what I write. If you simply can't get enough check out all of travels on my blog: milestoportugal.blogspot.com
Law School Orientation, or "This is the song that never ends"
The law school runs on a slightly different schedule than the rest of the University. Our classes started the third week in August. Midterms are, for the most part, graded and returned. Classes end, I believe, just before Thanksgiving break. So you can see that we are on a slightly earlier schedule, at least when compared to the Undergraduate School.
It is currently the third week of October.
I still have orientation about once a week. And will continue to do so until, at least, the middle of November.
Seriously.
I don't know about any of you, but I have attended follow up orientation sessions, say once a semester, or just before finals, or towards the end of the year. UB Law takes the cake with its endless continuing orientation sessions.
On one hand, I abhor these sessions, as I get to listen to yet ANOTHER presentation on the importance of taking good notes and staying ahead of your work. Also, they tend to be during lunch. As a 1L, you pretty much never have lunch between law scholars (similar to TAs) and orientation.
On the other hand, there is almost always free pizza. So I guess that balances out the whole missing lunch thing. Also, some of them are really good. As much as I never need to hear another explanation of different types of learning styles, we have had some great training in legal research and specific exam strategies. If I was really being fair, I would also point out that most of these are entirely optional.
The other thing that keeps happening during law school is that people are always trying to sell you something. Bar review prep, commercial course outlines, legal research services, legal research help, citation services, exam prep, 25,000 case briefs, you name it. There must be more money in law school study aids than in actually practicing law. The disingenuous piece for me is the way it is presented. As a law student, I would think that we are probably the most discerning, skeptical, and otherwise fed up with BS group of consumers out there. So why do some companies resort to such base tactics as pyramid scheme referral services? Student recruiters? Why, because reps aren't allowed on campus? To anyone involved in marketing, I will give you a hint. If you insult my intelligence, or talk to me like I am a child, I will use the competitors product out of spite.
Honestly, by far the most effective ones are much more direct. They serve free pizza.
And to conclude with funny cases, a quick disclaimer. In Criminal Law we are up to homicide, some of these are a little macabre. We got to read a landmark case in which a jury decided that repeatedly dropping a 20 lbs. boulder on someone's head DOES NOT qualify as an attempt to cause severe bodily harm.
We also read a pretty good one where the court clearly stated that just because someone calls you a mean name, you can't murder them. I am not going to repeat the exchange here, but suffice to say it was on the level of "Yo Momma" jokes.
It is currently the third week of October.
I still have orientation about once a week. And will continue to do so until, at least, the middle of November.
Seriously.
I don't know about any of you, but I have attended follow up orientation sessions, say once a semester, or just before finals, or towards the end of the year. UB Law takes the cake with its endless continuing orientation sessions.
On one hand, I abhor these sessions, as I get to listen to yet ANOTHER presentation on the importance of taking good notes and staying ahead of your work. Also, they tend to be during lunch. As a 1L, you pretty much never have lunch between law scholars (similar to TAs) and orientation.
On the other hand, there is almost always free pizza. So I guess that balances out the whole missing lunch thing. Also, some of them are really good. As much as I never need to hear another explanation of different types of learning styles, we have had some great training in legal research and specific exam strategies. If I was really being fair, I would also point out that most of these are entirely optional.
The other thing that keeps happening during law school is that people are always trying to sell you something. Bar review prep, commercial course outlines, legal research services, legal research help, citation services, exam prep, 25,000 case briefs, you name it. There must be more money in law school study aids than in actually practicing law. The disingenuous piece for me is the way it is presented. As a law student, I would think that we are probably the most discerning, skeptical, and otherwise fed up with BS group of consumers out there. So why do some companies resort to such base tactics as pyramid scheme referral services? Student recruiters? Why, because reps aren't allowed on campus? To anyone involved in marketing, I will give you a hint. If you insult my intelligence, or talk to me like I am a child, I will use the competitors product out of spite.
Honestly, by far the most effective ones are much more direct. They serve free pizza.
And to conclude with funny cases, a quick disclaimer. In Criminal Law we are up to homicide, some of these are a little macabre. We got to read a landmark case in which a jury decided that repeatedly dropping a 20 lbs. boulder on someone's head DOES NOT qualify as an attempt to cause severe bodily harm.
We also read a pretty good one where the court clearly stated that just because someone calls you a mean name, you can't murder them. I am not going to repeat the exchange here, but suffice to say it was on the level of "Yo Momma" jokes.
Winter Coats and Home Cooking, Oh My
Winter is coming on faster than I would like. In southern West Virginia our winters have recently been so mild that I could get by with a heavy sweatshirt instead of a winter coat. I hate winter coats. They're heavy, they constrict movement, and my legs--usually jean clad--never get warm. (I once tried a long coat and spent most of my time falling up bus steps. It wasn't worth the little added warmth.)
Worse, much worse, I am five hours away from home and the best cook of winter food goodness. I am a food snob. I freely admit it. My mom is a kickin' cook. And in the winter she makes, more often, some of my favorites: potato soup, open faced roast beef, squash casserole, baked spaghetti--the list could continue to forever.
This is so disastrous for me for two reasons: 1) I am a terrible cook. 2) She doesn't use recipes. When I ask for directions she says things like, "Oh, just toss in however much looks good." "Looks" can alternately be replaced with "tastes" and so the debacle continues.
You may not believe me about the bad cook part (everyone says that, right?), but here are some examples:
Two days ago I burned turkey sausage which only requires being heated through. It is all ready fully cooked.
When making stuffed mushrooms I twice caught on fire a rag I was using instead of an oven mitt; then, I took the pan out with my bare hand and dropped it on the floor.
I have had to throw out at least two skillets of steak in the last year because they were not edible.
And, it once took me two hours to make egg salad. (For those worse then me, egg salad requires boiling, peeling, then cutting the eggs. Then, you mix with mayonnaise, mustard, and whatever else you might want to throw in. It should not take two hours.)
I was spoiled as an undergraduate. I commuted from home. Often when I would get in at 8 p.m. from class or sometime after midnight from work there would be food in the fridge, even a plate fixed for me to pop in the microwave.
Believe me, I have tried to convince my boyfriend to be the houseboy. (He can cook. At least, now that I have convinced him to use salt.) He says he's agreeable once I start making mad money by publishing something. So, lamentably, I have to continue the struggle with my nights of cooking until I pen the next Twilight or Harry Potter phenomenon.
So, for those of you out there who struggle like I do, I have some suggestions:
Be fearless. So, you'll have to toss out $20 worth of groceries on a meal gone wrong now and then. Keep some box mac and cheese at hand to comfort your in your time of loss.
The slow cooker is your friend. Really. You can't mess it up. It cooks too slowly for that. Plus, there are books of recipes, not to mention what you can find on-line.
For first tries, only have people you trust around. Yes, they'll tease you, but they'll also know where your fire extinguisher is located.
And, as a spot of inspiration, I made my mom's potato soup last night. Granted, I called her twice while making it. And, soup is sort of a relative term as far as its consistency is concerned. But, hey, it tastes great and heats you straight through on these cold Baltimore days. Yes, I'll say it of my own cooking: It is better than a winter coat.
Three Things I've Found: Actually, re-found. Velveeta cheese makes all things better. My cocker-spaniel is only selectively hearing impaired, the rat. And Belvedere Square: Daedalus Books and Ryan's Daughter. Buy books, then eat. Or vice-versa. Maybe the lethargy of being stuffed on good Irish fare will keep you from spending too much--or the extreme discounts at Daedalus will. Either way, it works.
Three Things I Still Need to Find: Money trees. I thought, for a brief and golden time as a small child, that they might exist. I'm going to keep hoping. Whether or not this apartment friendly wall paper is really as great as they say it is, non-woven indeed. And, finally, a winter coat. Damn it.
Worse, much worse, I am five hours away from home and the best cook of winter food goodness. I am a food snob. I freely admit it. My mom is a kickin' cook. And in the winter she makes, more often, some of my favorites: potato soup, open faced roast beef, squash casserole, baked spaghetti--the list could continue to forever.
This is so disastrous for me for two reasons: 1) I am a terrible cook. 2) She doesn't use recipes. When I ask for directions she says things like, "Oh, just toss in however much looks good." "Looks" can alternately be replaced with "tastes" and so the debacle continues.
You may not believe me about the bad cook part (everyone says that, right?), but here are some examples:
Two days ago I burned turkey sausage which only requires being heated through. It is all ready fully cooked.
When making stuffed mushrooms I twice caught on fire a rag I was using instead of an oven mitt; then, I took the pan out with my bare hand and dropped it on the floor.
I have had to throw out at least two skillets of steak in the last year because they were not edible.
And, it once took me two hours to make egg salad. (For those worse then me, egg salad requires boiling, peeling, then cutting the eggs. Then, you mix with mayonnaise, mustard, and whatever else you might want to throw in. It should not take two hours.)
I was spoiled as an undergraduate. I commuted from home. Often when I would get in at 8 p.m. from class or sometime after midnight from work there would be food in the fridge, even a plate fixed for me to pop in the microwave.
Believe me, I have tried to convince my boyfriend to be the houseboy. (He can cook. At least, now that I have convinced him to use salt.) He says he's agreeable once I start making mad money by publishing something. So, lamentably, I have to continue the struggle with my nights of cooking until I pen the next Twilight or Harry Potter phenomenon.
So, for those of you out there who struggle like I do, I have some suggestions:
Be fearless. So, you'll have to toss out $20 worth of groceries on a meal gone wrong now and then. Keep some box mac and cheese at hand to comfort your in your time of loss.
The slow cooker is your friend. Really. You can't mess it up. It cooks too slowly for that. Plus, there are books of recipes, not to mention what you can find on-line.
For first tries, only have people you trust around. Yes, they'll tease you, but they'll also know where your fire extinguisher is located.
And, as a spot of inspiration, I made my mom's potato soup last night. Granted, I called her twice while making it. And, soup is sort of a relative term as far as its consistency is concerned. But, hey, it tastes great and heats you straight through on these cold Baltimore days. Yes, I'll say it of my own cooking: It is better than a winter coat.
Three Things I've Found: Actually, re-found. Velveeta cheese makes all things better. My cocker-spaniel is only selectively hearing impaired, the rat. And Belvedere Square: Daedalus Books and Ryan's Daughter. Buy books, then eat. Or vice-versa. Maybe the lethargy of being stuffed on good Irish fare will keep you from spending too much--or the extreme discounts at Daedalus will. Either way, it works.
Three Things I Still Need to Find: Money trees. I thought, for a brief and golden time as a small child, that they might exist. I'm going to keep hoping. Whether or not this apartment friendly wall paper is really as great as they say it is, non-woven indeed. And, finally, a winter coat. Damn it.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Voices from Forever by Randall Keller
okay I have to take advantage of the fact that my father is now officially an author of a book called "Voices from Forever" and post it on the UB Blog. Now if you believe in ghosts, or EVP aka Electronic Voice Phenomenon you will love this book. For the past couple years now my father has become very involved in recording EVP's. I read the first two chapters so far and its a really easy read and very interesting. I do have to say that its pretty cool that in chapter one my father refers to me as "the middle child". No names were used for certain reasons although he could have used my full name, I would not have cared. Now this is not like one of those things where I promote the book because its my father - it really is an awesome book so far and you should really check it out. So if you happen to want a book to read over the Thanksgiving break you can purchase this book through his official website. It would be great if you could pass this message or links onto people you think might be interested. Thanks!
Another Cold
Had a cold last month...this month another one. Thank goodness it has none of the flu-like symptoms. The USG-Rockville campus looks clean and plenty of sanitizers everywhere. Anytime I'm at a computer I somehow pick up a virus or touch a doorknob. I never know when it's going to happen again.
Always wash your hand frequently whenever you touch anything, any object, any thing somebody else touched.
I ate again. I baked brownies last week and ate the whole thing in two days. Last night I ate out and had dessert after. It's going to take several tries however I did get a brisk walk in at a park.
Yes it's hard and it's challenging. I appreciate the support!! It's hard to lose the last five or ten pounds. I noticed at the doc's office that I gained 15 pounds this year. Uh oh! I guess scales don't lie? haha!
p.s. Toastmaster International is a club helping others overcome public speaking and group anxiety. Google it and check it out.
Always wash your hand frequently whenever you touch anything, any object, any thing somebody else touched.
I ate again. I baked brownies last week and ate the whole thing in two days. Last night I ate out and had dessert after. It's going to take several tries however I did get a brisk walk in at a park.
Yes it's hard and it's challenging. I appreciate the support!! It's hard to lose the last five or ten pounds. I noticed at the doc's office that I gained 15 pounds this year. Uh oh! I guess scales don't lie? haha!
p.s. Toastmaster International is a club helping others overcome public speaking and group anxiety. Google it and check it out.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Sleepy Head
I'm feeling a little melancholy today. I think it's the change of the seasons. Maybe the whole crabbiness of the past week and weekend play a part in it. At any rate, I'd much rather crawl back under my covers, turn off the light switch, and drift into dreamland than go to work. It seems like my bed reaches the perfect temperature about ten minutes before I'm supposed to get up. I act like I haven't had a day off in years, when I've actually been off work for the last four days. I'm such an ingrate, yes, I know. Still, I want what I want and I want it now! All I want is my bed and a few more days off. Is that so hard to accommodate? Well, I'd better go now. The real world awaits.
Until next time,
Rain
Until next time,
Rain
Friday, October 16, 2009
Infrastructure
I've always been fascinated by how things work--what happens to the water from your bath after it goes down the drain, how do little rods of enriched uranium make the TV work and the lights turn on, how do enormous heavy airplanes get themselves, their passengers, and (in bygone days) their highly improbable food up in the air, and so on. I've found that other people tend to be interested in this sort of thing as well, although perhaps less enthusiastic than myself, so I'll share one of the interesting how-it's-done stories I've recently come across.
In the past weeks on my commute to and from work and school I've watched Martin Luther King Boulevard slowly but surely being repaved.
This kind of thing only happens at night, for obvious reasons: one, there are fewer people needing to use the road while it's being worked on, and two, the machines they use are far too cool to see the light of day. If you've never seen how it's done, the magical disappearance and reappearance of the road surface can be pretty puzzling. Allow me to explain.
Those of you who've ever kept an aquarium containing an algae-eating snail employed to keep the glass clean will already understand the process by which the road surface is removed. Remember watching the snail's bizarre little mouthparts scraping a clean line along the glass? It (and its friends the rest of the gastropods, including the Giant African Land Snail and the conch) is equipped with a thing called a radula which is basically a small organic emery board, with which it scrape-scrape-scrapes its dinner off whatever it happens to be walking on at the time. If you ever pick up a snail in the garden or at the seashore and wait for it to chill out enough to come back out of its shell, you will feel the radula scraping away at your hand. It tickles. I would not, however, recommend trying this with a large snail; they can be quite forceful in their radulation.
The machine that takes off the top two inches of the road surface is doing exactly the same thing as the snail. It crawls along not on a muscular head-foot but on two impressive-looking tank tracks, and between these a grinding mechanism is dragged along the road, scraping off the asphalt in a strip the width of a lane as it goes. The bits of road are then spat out via an overhead conveyor belt into a dump truck rumbling along at walking pace in front of the machine. It's a pretty powerful sight.
Once the radulation of a lane is complete, then the shiny new asphalt is laid down. This is done by a sort of modified and heated dump truck which dribbles the hot tar-and-gravel mix behind it, followed by a machine that presses down and smoothes over the new road surface. Voilà: beautiful smooth black road, laid down lane by lane, night by night. There's a bit in the movie Cars where a character has just completed repaving a damaged stretch of road, and the beauty of the new surface inspires Luigi the Fiat to exclaim "It's like it was paved by angels!"
Angels with a radula.
In the past weeks on my commute to and from work and school I've watched Martin Luther King Boulevard slowly but surely being repaved.
This kind of thing only happens at night, for obvious reasons: one, there are fewer people needing to use the road while it's being worked on, and two, the machines they use are far too cool to see the light of day. If you've never seen how it's done, the magical disappearance and reappearance of the road surface can be pretty puzzling. Allow me to explain.
Those of you who've ever kept an aquarium containing an algae-eating snail employed to keep the glass clean will already understand the process by which the road surface is removed. Remember watching the snail's bizarre little mouthparts scraping a clean line along the glass? It (and its friends the rest of the gastropods, including the Giant African Land Snail and the conch) is equipped with a thing called a radula which is basically a small organic emery board, with which it scrape-scrape-scrapes its dinner off whatever it happens to be walking on at the time. If you ever pick up a snail in the garden or at the seashore and wait for it to chill out enough to come back out of its shell, you will feel the radula scraping away at your hand. It tickles. I would not, however, recommend trying this with a large snail; they can be quite forceful in their radulation.
The machine that takes off the top two inches of the road surface is doing exactly the same thing as the snail. It crawls along not on a muscular head-foot but on two impressive-looking tank tracks, and between these a grinding mechanism is dragged along the road, scraping off the asphalt in a strip the width of a lane as it goes. The bits of road are then spat out via an overhead conveyor belt into a dump truck rumbling along at walking pace in front of the machine. It's a pretty powerful sight.
Once the radulation of a lane is complete, then the shiny new asphalt is laid down. This is done by a sort of modified and heated dump truck which dribbles the hot tar-and-gravel mix behind it, followed by a machine that presses down and smoothes over the new road surface. Voilà: beautiful smooth black road, laid down lane by lane, night by night. There's a bit in the movie Cars where a character has just completed repaving a damaged stretch of road, and the beauty of the new surface inspires Luigi the Fiat to exclaim "It's like it was paved by angels!"
Angels with a radula.
One of THOSE weeks...
You know those weeks where you have so much work to get done, that by the time you finish one thing, the next thing is due in 20 minutes, so you have to half-ass it, and then the next thing is due, so you half-ass that one and then before you know it your power goes out and you stub your toe three times on the way to find a flashlight and then when you find your watch you realize you have 20 minutes to the next deadline AND your already late for work. I'm having that kind of week.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Oh Dear...The Stars Have Aligned Themselves !
Okay let me start by saying having a day off really confuses me. I totally forgot today was Wednesday and my post was due tomorrow and me being a stickler for being on time, ready, prepared and all that good stuff left no room for me to even think about posting late !!
I have to laugh at that because even my son knew mommy like things on time. He made his entrance to the world 2 days before he was due !!!
But to the blog, it's going to be short and sweet today because the Stars of Peace and Calm have aligned themselves in my life. I mean there has been nothing on the news making me mad. I haven't listened to Michael Baisden much this week either. As I type I have to reflect on how, son is in bed, I've gotten some reading done for class, been to Catonsville library to pick up some books for my paper due in December, even started writing it already, work is going pretty good. There is no confusion in my life. I always figured the day I was able to simply breathe and just relax I wouldn't know about it because I would be dead !!!!
So having nothing to "teach" you this week, I'll take this week's entry to tell you about some moments that have just made me smile. Smiling can be so refreshing !!! I suggest ya'll try it sometimes....but here's my list of SMILING MOMENTS ....SMILE !!!!
*Chatting with my best friend Tara EVERYDAY. This always makes me smile. She has seen through some tough times. I actually feel old to say I have known her half my life !!
*Hearing my two year old count from 1-10 (now he stops at 9 for some reason). You can only imagine the smile that day !
*Just today (which is actually Wednesday) during our "talk time" as we rode home from the sitter, he said "Have a good day"...I smiled and my heart smiled to hear him say that !! As soon as I pick him I always ask if he had a good day. I guess he figured he'd ask today since I forgot to ask him !
*Calling my mom and her hearing my son count.
*Hearing my son tell my best friend "mommy right here" as he pointed to me. Only she was on the phone and couldn't see him pointing !!
*Watching my son entertain himself by taking his socks off his feet and putting them on his hands like mittens !
*Talking to my co-worker's wife and hearing that same "passion" in her voice I have about things just being right (or wrong !!)
*Some people's statuses on Facebook...now some of those things come with outright laughter ! I know some troubled/interesting people.
*Half the phone calls I got at work on Tuesday. Got so that I named it Tricky Tuesday. Somebody had to have set us up with those weird callers !
*Knowing that Saturday I will be in the company of my gal pals from Coppin (and Carlise and Bianca...they went to other schools ....love ya'll though!!!). I miss hanging out with my girls. Thanks Tonyia for making it happen.
*Talking to my cousin AND my aunt today. I only see them about 3-4 times a year.
*My supervisor coming back to work on Monday. I kind of miss the guy. Actually, I just want to see his face when I hit with my leave slip requests !!!
So as you can see I have enjoyed some pretty peaceful, calm, enjoyable moments this week. This is how life should be. I think having these moments in our lives will help us face the challenges of the next day, week, month or next distraction in our lives. Keep a mental Rolodex of "smile moments". Run through them next time you feeling stressed about your next exam, next paper due or Lainey, the next snack you reach for (I bet you're smiling right now) !!!! Hell smile while you pay your bills....knowing you're one step closer to it being paid off !!
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
The woes of mass transit
Although Baltimore is a pretty awesome city, I do have some major transportation gripes.
First of all, check out Tabitha's post about Road Rage Walking and Charlene's post about Speeders Around Campus. I'm not going to repeat what they said, but I will say I agree wholeheartedly about some of the dangers of walking in Baltimore.
My complaint is about the MTA, or Maryland Transit Administration. My apartment is about two miles from campus, so in the morning, I generally ride the light rail commuter train. At about $3 a day, it is probably cheaper than even walking when you consider replacing shoes and lost calories. It is convenient, trains run about every 15 minutes, and the total trip is about 20 minutes. Additionally, the Mt. Royal stop is 1 block from the law building.
The fun ends there.
Unfortunately, for many Baltimore residents, the light rail is the school bus. I am sure you remember your own days on the bus, it is pretty much the same, except it is less fun the older you get. By the time you reach adulthood (or at least an age when you are supposed to act like an adult) it really just makes you wish you never got on. Also, there are some sort of dog sniffing searches at times. I cannot say if they are looking for drugs, bombs, or unattended babies, but they stop the train for anywhere from 15 to 30 minutes each time. Not really helpful when you got on the train thinking you were going to go somewhere. And I wish someone could explain why the ticket collectors get in your face verifying that you have a ticket, and in my case that I have a student ID, but then allow the guy in the next seat to ride for free. Furthermore, how is it that no matter when I ride the light rail, there is always someone drunk or high on the train as well. I guess at least they aren't driving.
Needless to say, I have been enjoying our fall weather by walking most of the time.
Since this so far has been nothing but complaints, how about something a little lighter. In Criminal Law we read a case where the defendant argues, "I didn't kill him by shooting him in the head four times, the doctor killed him by taking him off life support." Big surprise here, but the court didn't buy it.
My contracts teacher called on me to answer in class, and said, "Ok Mr. Minzewski (he can't say my last name), you do the thinkin and I'll do the drinkin."
First of all, check out Tabitha's post about Road Rage Walking and Charlene's post about Speeders Around Campus. I'm not going to repeat what they said, but I will say I agree wholeheartedly about some of the dangers of walking in Baltimore.
My complaint is about the MTA, or Maryland Transit Administration. My apartment is about two miles from campus, so in the morning, I generally ride the light rail commuter train. At about $3 a day, it is probably cheaper than even walking when you consider replacing shoes and lost calories. It is convenient, trains run about every 15 minutes, and the total trip is about 20 minutes. Additionally, the Mt. Royal stop is 1 block from the law building.
The fun ends there.
Unfortunately, for many Baltimore residents, the light rail is the school bus. I am sure you remember your own days on the bus, it is pretty much the same, except it is less fun the older you get. By the time you reach adulthood (or at least an age when you are supposed to act like an adult) it really just makes you wish you never got on. Also, there are some sort of dog sniffing searches at times. I cannot say if they are looking for drugs, bombs, or unattended babies, but they stop the train for anywhere from 15 to 30 minutes each time. Not really helpful when you got on the train thinking you were going to go somewhere. And I wish someone could explain why the ticket collectors get in your face verifying that you have a ticket, and in my case that I have a student ID, but then allow the guy in the next seat to ride for free. Furthermore, how is it that no matter when I ride the light rail, there is always someone drunk or high on the train as well. I guess at least they aren't driving.
Needless to say, I have been enjoying our fall weather by walking most of the time.
Since this so far has been nothing but complaints, how about something a little lighter. In Criminal Law we read a case where the defendant argues, "I didn't kill him by shooting him in the head four times, the doctor killed him by taking him off life support." Big surprise here, but the court didn't buy it.
My contracts teacher called on me to answer in class, and said, "Ok Mr. Minzewski (he can't say my last name), you do the thinkin and I'll do the drinkin."
What a Yellow Board Means To Me, or my trip to the BMA
First things first, 6:30a.m. is actually a fine time to be writing in the Academic Center computer lab. I have had my choice of computers and no neighbors, so I feel no guilt while checking NewsoftheWeird.com or Facebook before getting down to the business of writing.
Ahem, now on to the nuts and bolts! This week one of my class assignments took me to the Baltimore Museum of Art--which is free, easily accessible by walk (which I did), or the #3 bus (I love that bus). The walk was not short, but it was festive as the day was Saturday and the marathoners were out, well, marathoning. (Did you know that marathons are always 26 miles long because that is the length the messenger ran to report the Greek victory after the Battle of Marathon--promptly dying? I figure, yes, you did. But my boyfriend was surprised by this bit of news on our walk, so I am sharing again.) I wanted to clap for them, but felt awkward so we clapped discreetly and, basically, mutely so neither us nor the marathoners really got anything out of it, I presume.
However, once we arrived at the BMA I was impressed. First, the collections are great. Secondly, having worked in a museum for a year, I was impressed--that word again-- by the ballsy move not to have everything roped off, under plexi, or guarded. They do, of course, have security cameras but I know first hand the damage that can be done between spotting a rogue toucher and getting to them just from across a gallery.
Ignoring the advice of my professor to start in the Cone Collection and choose a piece to get intimate with, Lane--the boyfriend--and I decide to start at the bottom and work our way up. He devised a systematic approach so we wouldn't have to double back. (He does this everywhere we go. As I am perpetually lost on my own, I am grateful for this quirk.) We ended up seeing just about everything. Just about because we skipped Poe, planning to get him next time as it was wall to wall bodies in there. We saw Rodin's The Thinker. This bears repeating: The Thinker is inside the BMA. And, you haven't seen it until you've really seen it. We saw sculpture and paintings, domestic arts, foreign artifacts....it is a lot and it is all very interesting.
Except, well, except the modern art. I know art is subjective. I know that people read literature that I love and stick out their tongues and gag. I know if I try to talk theory with non-literary scholars they really don't care to know. And, that's okay. I don't like my sister's pharmaceutical jokes, either, but they crack her up. (She's a pharmacist. When two or more pharmacists get together, it is not funny. Trust me.)
But, I feel at once intimidated by abstract art and kind of infuriated by it. For instance, one of the pieces is a yellow plank of wood against an otherwise blank wall. This, in itself, was mystifying. But, then, I read the accompanying explanation. There was a lot of weight assigned to this yellow plank including that it echoed human proportions. I, perhaps, at 5'4", am not the best example of normal human proportions, but I'm fairly certain a plank over 7ft tall and rectangular isn't either.
When working at that museum I mentioned earlier I got to talk to art professionals--art historians, curators, photographers, and various visual artists--about their work: what it means and why. I learned to appreciate the play of color and shape. That, to me, is something like a nonsense poem where a writer gets to play with sound. But, then, what is the other value being ascribed? Did the artist make that up? (See David Sedaris for why I firmly believe this to be possible. Or, at least, as a confirmation of belief.) Did someone else? Did they go a little too far? If I handed them my nephew's watercolor could they make it seem equally significant and filled with underlying tension? (He's two. So, I bet.)
Like wine, I want to like it. I want to get it. I have a college degree. I'm getting another one. I feel like I should be able to look and go, "Oh, yes. I see exactly what the artist was commenting on by splashing red paint only on the right corner of this otherwise blank canvas." But, of course, I don't.
In an attempt to let collegiate experiences broaden my mind, I am going to try to stop judging them. You know, thinking things like, "Well, I'm pretty sure I doodled that during Trig in 2002." or "I have to become an installation artist. I have this great collection of pet fur since I haven't vacuumed my apartment in two days."
I am going to do as Sister Wendy said: Look. Look again. And, if nothing happens, I am going to accept that not all pieces were meant for me.
Although, I gotta wonder what her take on the yellow plank would be.
Three things I found this week: I like Degas, but apparently he did not like women. Sister Wendy. If you don't know her, look her up! And, finally, I am terrible at sneaking out of my apartment--the dogs always know.
Three things I still need to find: Material for a quilt square. Whether or not kids trick-or-treat in my apartment complex. My sanity--I must have lost it to decide to get up at six rather than write this blog at ten p.m. last night.
Ahem, now on to the nuts and bolts! This week one of my class assignments took me to the Baltimore Museum of Art--which is free, easily accessible by walk (which I did), or the #3 bus (I love that bus). The walk was not short, but it was festive as the day was Saturday and the marathoners were out, well, marathoning. (Did you know that marathons are always 26 miles long because that is the length the messenger ran to report the Greek victory after the Battle of Marathon--promptly dying? I figure, yes, you did. But my boyfriend was surprised by this bit of news on our walk, so I am sharing again.) I wanted to clap for them, but felt awkward so we clapped discreetly and, basically, mutely so neither us nor the marathoners really got anything out of it, I presume.
However, once we arrived at the BMA I was impressed. First, the collections are great. Secondly, having worked in a museum for a year, I was impressed--that word again-- by the ballsy move not to have everything roped off, under plexi, or guarded. They do, of course, have security cameras but I know first hand the damage that can be done between spotting a rogue toucher and getting to them just from across a gallery.
Ignoring the advice of my professor to start in the Cone Collection and choose a piece to get intimate with, Lane--the boyfriend--and I decide to start at the bottom and work our way up. He devised a systematic approach so we wouldn't have to double back. (He does this everywhere we go. As I am perpetually lost on my own, I am grateful for this quirk.) We ended up seeing just about everything. Just about because we skipped Poe, planning to get him next time as it was wall to wall bodies in there. We saw Rodin's The Thinker. This bears repeating: The Thinker is inside the BMA. And, you haven't seen it until you've really seen it. We saw sculpture and paintings, domestic arts, foreign artifacts....it is a lot and it is all very interesting.
Except, well, except the modern art. I know art is subjective. I know that people read literature that I love and stick out their tongues and gag. I know if I try to talk theory with non-literary scholars they really don't care to know. And, that's okay. I don't like my sister's pharmaceutical jokes, either, but they crack her up. (She's a pharmacist. When two or more pharmacists get together, it is not funny. Trust me.)
But, I feel at once intimidated by abstract art and kind of infuriated by it. For instance, one of the pieces is a yellow plank of wood against an otherwise blank wall. This, in itself, was mystifying. But, then, I read the accompanying explanation. There was a lot of weight assigned to this yellow plank including that it echoed human proportions. I, perhaps, at 5'4", am not the best example of normal human proportions, but I'm fairly certain a plank over 7ft tall and rectangular isn't either.
When working at that museum I mentioned earlier I got to talk to art professionals--art historians, curators, photographers, and various visual artists--about their work: what it means and why. I learned to appreciate the play of color and shape. That, to me, is something like a nonsense poem where a writer gets to play with sound. But, then, what is the other value being ascribed? Did the artist make that up? (See David Sedaris for why I firmly believe this to be possible. Or, at least, as a confirmation of belief.) Did someone else? Did they go a little too far? If I handed them my nephew's watercolor could they make it seem equally significant and filled with underlying tension? (He's two. So, I bet.)
Like wine, I want to like it. I want to get it. I have a college degree. I'm getting another one. I feel like I should be able to look and go, "Oh, yes. I see exactly what the artist was commenting on by splashing red paint only on the right corner of this otherwise blank canvas." But, of course, I don't.
In an attempt to let collegiate experiences broaden my mind, I am going to try to stop judging them. You know, thinking things like, "Well, I'm pretty sure I doodled that during Trig in 2002." or "I have to become an installation artist. I have this great collection of pet fur since I haven't vacuumed my apartment in two days."
I am going to do as Sister Wendy said: Look. Look again. And, if nothing happens, I am going to accept that not all pieces were meant for me.
Although, I gotta wonder what her take on the yellow plank would be.
Three things I found this week: I like Degas, but apparently he did not like women. Sister Wendy. If you don't know her, look her up! And, finally, I am terrible at sneaking out of my apartment--the dogs always know.
Three things I still need to find: Material for a quilt square. Whether or not kids trick-or-treat in my apartment complex. My sanity--I must have lost it to decide to get up at six rather than write this blog at ten p.m. last night.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Emotional eating tied to many things
Everyday is a sugar fix. I always have sweets on hand to munch on w/o thinking what harm it could do. The calories keep piling and the stress keeps coming, so I usually turn to eating as a way to defeat hunger or a craving.
Last week I was at Krispy Kreme for two donuts and bought a latte, that was my dinner. (Bad idea)
Later that evening, I was craving more dinner or a late night snack after a heavy load of studying.
I got to talk with the bf every evening, but what would help is more mental stimulation or more talk with someone, definitely not FB, myspace, Twitter, or some social networking site that ppl read all your thoughts.
Taking a walk for fresh air and renew yourself.
Stress, sometimes we turn to food for comfort, but that doesn't solve the problem, more than likely it isolates the problem.
I eat because I have a craving and also I eat because it's my friend. It doesn't talk much except to tempt me to eat more.
I just ate several wrapped Almond Roca's, yum!! I'll add other things to eat.
I drank a mug of hot cocoa to halt the cravings, and temporarily it's worked. Hot or warm drink help a lot. Hot tea is great!! Also chewing gum.
Perhaps I should buy more fruit cups, pudding, fruits, to keep light things on hand wherever I go. It can be hard if I make it hard.
I think exercise also helps. A dose of laughter even.
Eating sugar just makes your next meal or craving miserable, it may tempt you in more ways than none and you are the only one who can change it.
Rather it's not a friend, not even comfort. It has made me gain weight and talk of negativity.
It comes at a price that ppl have to acknowledge the problem, and to work with it they have to accept the problem and take the next step forward.
Last week I was at Krispy Kreme for two donuts and bought a latte, that was my dinner. (Bad idea)
Later that evening, I was craving more dinner or a late night snack after a heavy load of studying.
I got to talk with the bf every evening, but what would help is more mental stimulation or more talk with someone, definitely not FB, myspace, Twitter, or some social networking site that ppl read all your thoughts.
Taking a walk for fresh air and renew yourself.
Stress, sometimes we turn to food for comfort, but that doesn't solve the problem, more than likely it isolates the problem.
I eat because I have a craving and also I eat because it's my friend. It doesn't talk much except to tempt me to eat more.
I just ate several wrapped Almond Roca's, yum!! I'll add other things to eat.
I drank a mug of hot cocoa to halt the cravings, and temporarily it's worked. Hot or warm drink help a lot. Hot tea is great!! Also chewing gum.
Perhaps I should buy more fruit cups, pudding, fruits, to keep light things on hand wherever I go. It can be hard if I make it hard.
I think exercise also helps. A dose of laughter even.
Eating sugar just makes your next meal or craving miserable, it may tempt you in more ways than none and you are the only one who can change it.
Rather it's not a friend, not even comfort. It has made me gain weight and talk of negativity.
It comes at a price that ppl have to acknowledge the problem, and to work with it they have to accept the problem and take the next step forward.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Ain't It Funny How Life Goes Around...
As I sit here at my computer, having no idea what to blog about, I think about the fact that we are nearly half way through the semester already!! Hallelujah! School started on August 30th and we're already in the second week of October! Time really flies when you're busy and making things happen! Aside from school though, what else am I doing with my life? There are so many things that I want to accomplish, rather, need to accomplish and I feel like I'm moving in slow motion. This saying is cliched but I really do feel like every time I take one step forward, something pulls me two steps backward. As a student, and as an adult period, life is constantly handing you lemons and making you decide whether to be sour or to make lemonade. And, to be honest, sometimes I choose to be sour. I'm working at it. I want to be better. I know that with time, determination, and perseverance, I'll be able to work through my problems and attain the things I want out of life, large & small. For now, though, I have to take the good with the bad and try to stir up some lemonade. And, what doesn't kill you, will only make you stronger, right? I'll take that as a yes...
Friday, October 9, 2009
I wish I'd thought of that, or real-life cheat codes
Happy Friday (look at me, posting on time for once!)
Everyone's got them. From adding a pinch of dry mustard to vinaigrette in order to make it emulsify better to putting chapstick on your feet where sandal straps rub, the world is full of small but significant tips that make life easier. Once you've learned them, you forget that you ever didn't know them: I was amazed the first time someone pointed out to me that if you click on the top-left-hand corner of an Excel spreadsheet, it will highlight the whole sheet the way ctrl-A highlights a whole frame or page, and now I can't imagine not using that little feature every day.
Some of mine (and some of these I only discovered recently, although a lot of people probably knew them already) include:
--On a Mac, page down = spacebar and page up = shift + spacebar
--Everyone knows ctrl-a, ctrl-v, ctrl-c, ctrl-p, and ctrl-s, but Windows key + L locks your computer instantly without having to ctrl-alt-delete and select "lock" from the dialogue box. Also, alt + tab switches between open windows without having to click on the taskbar.
--Alcohol-based hand sanitizer cleans glasses lenses just as well as lens cleaner.
--Superglue/nail glue (cyanoacrylate) is an incredibly handy thing to have and can be used in an emergency to close cuts (after disinfecting, of course). Like it claims, it bonds skin instantly.
--Removing nail polish without nail polish remover: apply a thick layer of clear polish over the color, let it sit for a little while, and then wipe the whole lot off with a tissue. You might have to do this two or three times to get all the color off, but it works.
--Squirting fruitflies with air freshener (Lysol is best) makes it far easier to squash them. If you don't have air freshener, spraying them with hairspray will make their wings sticky and they won't be able to fly. (Also, rinse out anything that's contained fruit or vegetables, fruit juice, or alcohol: otherwise the fruitfly will spontaneously generate.)
--Scrub cast iron pans with kosher salt to clean them, never soap.
--Put salad ingredients and dressing into a Gladware box, seal the lid on, and shake vigorously. Tossed salad with no mess.
--Easy exfoliation tip: when getting out of the shower, towel-dry your hair, and then rub your face briskly with the damp towel.
And finally--this one is so basic that it puzzles me when I see people not using it: the handbrake in your car can be used for other actions than parking. If you drive a manual and you are stopped on a hill in traffic, you do not have to do a complicated heel-toe dance with the brake and gas to stop yourself rolling backward into the guy behind you. If you have a functioning handbrake, all you have to do is put the car in first, pull the handbrake on with your foot still on the brake pedal, and then when the light turns and you have to start up the hill you take your foot off the brake and hold the handbrake on while you rev the engine and let the clutch in. As soon as the clutch is engaged and the engine is trying to pull you up the hill, let off the handbrake and move the car forward. The handbrake mechanically actuates the rear brakes via a cable and ratchet, and should be capable of holding the car on a hill without it rolling: if your car's handbrake isn't doing this, have someone look at it and make sure the cable is sound and the connection to the rear brake mechanism isn't broken or jammed.
What are some of your tips that make everyday tasks easier?
Everyone's got them. From adding a pinch of dry mustard to vinaigrette in order to make it emulsify better to putting chapstick on your feet where sandal straps rub, the world is full of small but significant tips that make life easier. Once you've learned them, you forget that you ever didn't know them: I was amazed the first time someone pointed out to me that if you click on the top-left-hand corner of an Excel spreadsheet, it will highlight the whole sheet the way ctrl-A highlights a whole frame or page, and now I can't imagine not using that little feature every day.
Some of mine (and some of these I only discovered recently, although a lot of people probably knew them already) include:
--On a Mac, page down = spacebar and page up = shift + spacebar
--Everyone knows ctrl-a, ctrl-v, ctrl-c, ctrl-p, and ctrl-s, but Windows key + L locks your computer instantly without having to ctrl-alt-delete and select "lock" from the dialogue box. Also, alt + tab switches between open windows without having to click on the taskbar.
--Alcohol-based hand sanitizer cleans glasses lenses just as well as lens cleaner.
--Superglue/nail glue (cyanoacrylate) is an incredibly handy thing to have and can be used in an emergency to close cuts (after disinfecting, of course). Like it claims, it bonds skin instantly.
--Removing nail polish without nail polish remover: apply a thick layer of clear polish over the color, let it sit for a little while, and then wipe the whole lot off with a tissue. You might have to do this two or three times to get all the color off, but it works.
--Squirting fruitflies with air freshener (Lysol is best) makes it far easier to squash them. If you don't have air freshener, spraying them with hairspray will make their wings sticky and they won't be able to fly. (Also, rinse out anything that's contained fruit or vegetables, fruit juice, or alcohol: otherwise the fruitfly will spontaneously generate.)
--Scrub cast iron pans with kosher salt to clean them, never soap.
--Put salad ingredients and dressing into a Gladware box, seal the lid on, and shake vigorously. Tossed salad with no mess.
--Easy exfoliation tip: when getting out of the shower, towel-dry your hair, and then rub your face briskly with the damp towel.
And finally--this one is so basic that it puzzles me when I see people not using it: the handbrake in your car can be used for other actions than parking. If you drive a manual and you are stopped on a hill in traffic, you do not have to do a complicated heel-toe dance with the brake and gas to stop yourself rolling backward into the guy behind you. If you have a functioning handbrake, all you have to do is put the car in first, pull the handbrake on with your foot still on the brake pedal, and then when the light turns and you have to start up the hill you take your foot off the brake and hold the handbrake on while you rev the engine and let the clutch in. As soon as the clutch is engaged and the engine is trying to pull you up the hill, let off the handbrake and move the car forward. The handbrake mechanically actuates the rear brakes via a cable and ratchet, and should be capable of holding the car on a hill without it rolling: if your car's handbrake isn't doing this, have someone look at it and make sure the cable is sound and the connection to the rear brake mechanism isn't broken or jammed.
What are some of your tips that make everyday tasks easier?
Procrastination 101
I have been practicing procrastination for the last 26 years, and still, I learn new things and find new ways to procrastinate every day. I'd like to share a few of my favorite procrastination tools with you. Please share your favorites in my comments!
After checking my email, reading all my friends' facebook statuses, browsing the news headlines and catching up on the latest Hollywood gossip, I tend to find myself spending entirely too much time on:
ICanHasCheezeburger.com--cute photos of cats with ridiculous cat-speak captions.
CuteOverload.com--ridiculously cute photos of animals.
AwkwardFamilyPhotos.com--this picture says it all.
Engrish.com--real life examples of translations gone wrong.
Then of course we have Fmylife.com (great for when you're having a bad day) and Textsfromlastnight.com (great after a long night). Just remember to stop procrastinating once you feel energized. If you keep going, you will eventually get tired and have to procrastinate from procrastinating.
After checking my email, reading all my friends' facebook statuses, browsing the news headlines and catching up on the latest Hollywood gossip, I tend to find myself spending entirely too much time on:
ICanHasCheezeburger.com--cute photos of cats with ridiculous cat-speak captions.
CuteOverload.com--ridiculously cute photos of animals.
AwkwardFamilyPhotos.com--this picture says it all.
Engrish.com--real life examples of translations gone wrong.
Then of course we have Fmylife.com (great for when you're having a bad day) and Textsfromlastnight.com (great after a long night). Just remember to stop procrastinating once you feel energized. If you keep going, you will eventually get tired and have to procrastinate from procrastinating.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Technology Mishaps. Getting Involved
I'm in a hostel in Porto, Portugal right now on a trip with my Int'l Management class. I am posting this incredibly late. Laura, the blog administrator and enforcer of the contracts probably hates me - sorry Laura.
Yet again, I have another reason why my post is late. One of the most ridiculous strings of technological breakdowns I've ever had in my life:
My computer is dead because my US/Europe electric current converter blew a fuse because the laptop needed more power than the converter could supply. I didn't realize this until I borrow my roommate Ewan's converter and blew that fuse too. I didn't have an internet connection so I activated my BlackBerry's global capabilities which comes with a European plug as well and it is now having difficulty holding a charge. It's also turning off randomly and often so last night when I wanted to call a cab I borrowed my classmate Laura's phone. After I got off of the phone the signal went dead and in place of the signal bars the phone read "SOS" - it is still reading SOS. Before giving up on technology last night I was attempting to start my computer up with the little juice it had left so that I could put my paper (which was due Tuesday night) onto my thumb drive and work on it on one of the computers in the computer lab in the dorm where we were staying. After 30 minutes of searching for the thumb drive, which I had the night before in Lisbon, I decided to just try to connect to the wifi in the computer lab and email the paper to myself. I figured out very quickly that you need to be a student at Universedade do Minho in order to use the wifi. Today while I was on the bus I was attempting to post this very blog from my BlackBerry. After 30 or so minutes of typing I had what was damn close to a finished product but I wanted to go through and check the post once more for any errors before I uploaded it and we were at our destination and needed to get off the bus so I put my phone in my pocket and got off. When I got inside I pulled my phone out to finish up real quick and it was in the midst of restarting. Once it booted back up the post had been erased.
I am able to post this now because the driver of our coach bus that has been driving us around this week, Joao (read: the man), was nice enough to walk with me over to the mall nearby and get a converter - not before visiting three different stores to get it, of course.
The paper that I'm writing is on globalization. In the paper I have been arguing that the social, political and economical playing field of the world is flattening drastically and we are becoming more interconnected despite vast geographical differences. If I submitted my paper on Tuesday I would have definitely stayed with this position. After experiencing a complete inability to stay connected to the world this past week I may have to re-evaluate some of the statements in the paper.
Tony Robbin's Soap Box:
Today I enjoyed lunch and a few beers overlooking the Douro River in Porto, Portugal. After lunch I took a little booze cruise on a boat down the Douro. After the booze cruise I enjoyed a tour of Portugal's oldest Port Winery and a wine tasting afterward. I am now back at my hostel. I am about to head out and grab a bite to eat and then a night out on the town. I enjoyed all of this today through a school trip. The school is giving me $600 through their Wright Global Scholar program. I also found out that there is a trip going to Mexico in January which I will undoubtedly be signing up for as soon as I get back.
What I'm trying to say is that UB offers students a lot of opportunities. If travel abroad isn't for you then there are plenty of other opportunities here. Join some clubs or organizations, get connected and network. After attending three different colleges in 4 years I've found that when you get involved and get to know people on campus you enjoy being there and naturally do better in your classes. It will also likely be the difference between you enjoying college and not. The kicker is if you're reading this then you're probably already involved. If you're not involved then you have probably never heard of this blog and probably don't bother to look at the daily digest. If you don't know anyone on campus then holler at your boy. You can send me an email by clicking on my name at the bottom of this and hitting the email button on my blogger profile. Hopefully I'll hear from someone.
Yet again, I have another reason why my post is late. One of the most ridiculous strings of technological breakdowns I've ever had in my life:
My computer is dead because my US/Europe electric current converter blew a fuse because the laptop needed more power than the converter could supply. I didn't realize this until I borrow my roommate Ewan's converter and blew that fuse too. I didn't have an internet connection so I activated my BlackBerry's global capabilities which comes with a European plug as well and it is now having difficulty holding a charge. It's also turning off randomly and often so last night when I wanted to call a cab I borrowed my classmate Laura's phone. After I got off of the phone the signal went dead and in place of the signal bars the phone read "SOS" - it is still reading SOS. Before giving up on technology last night I was attempting to start my computer up with the little juice it had left so that I could put my paper (which was due Tuesday night) onto my thumb drive and work on it on one of the computers in the computer lab in the dorm where we were staying. After 30 minutes of searching for the thumb drive, which I had the night before in Lisbon, I decided to just try to connect to the wifi in the computer lab and email the paper to myself. I figured out very quickly that you need to be a student at Universedade do Minho in order to use the wifi. Today while I was on the bus I was attempting to post this very blog from my BlackBerry. After 30 or so minutes of typing I had what was damn close to a finished product but I wanted to go through and check the post once more for any errors before I uploaded it and we were at our destination and needed to get off the bus so I put my phone in my pocket and got off. When I got inside I pulled my phone out to finish up real quick and it was in the midst of restarting. Once it booted back up the post had been erased.
I am able to post this now because the driver of our coach bus that has been driving us around this week, Joao (read: the man), was nice enough to walk with me over to the mall nearby and get a converter - not before visiting three different stores to get it, of course.
The paper that I'm writing is on globalization. In the paper I have been arguing that the social, political and economical playing field of the world is flattening drastically and we are becoming more interconnected despite vast geographical differences. If I submitted my paper on Tuesday I would have definitely stayed with this position. After experiencing a complete inability to stay connected to the world this past week I may have to re-evaluate some of the statements in the paper.
Tony Robbin's Soap Box:
Today I enjoyed lunch and a few beers overlooking the Douro River in Porto, Portugal. After lunch I took a little booze cruise on a boat down the Douro. After the booze cruise I enjoyed a tour of Portugal's oldest Port Winery and a wine tasting afterward. I am now back at my hostel. I am about to head out and grab a bite to eat and then a night out on the town. I enjoyed all of this today through a school trip. The school is giving me $600 through their Wright Global Scholar program. I also found out that there is a trip going to Mexico in January which I will undoubtedly be signing up for as soon as I get back.
What I'm trying to say is that UB offers students a lot of opportunities. If travel abroad isn't for you then there are plenty of other opportunities here. Join some clubs or organizations, get connected and network. After attending three different colleges in 4 years I've found that when you get involved and get to know people on campus you enjoy being there and naturally do better in your classes. It will also likely be the difference between you enjoying college and not. The kicker is if you're reading this then you're probably already involved. If you're not involved then you have probably never heard of this blog and probably don't bother to look at the daily digest. If you don't know anyone on campus then holler at your boy. You can send me an email by clicking on my name at the bottom of this and hitting the email button on my blogger profile. Hopefully I'll hear from someone.
P.S. if you are interested in what I am doing in Portugal I have a blog that I am keeping up with pictures and photos. I will be here until Friday October 16th. The website is milestoportugal.blogspot.com
LIFE LESSONS.....Learning From Past Mistakes...building on taught values
Sometimes I wish my mind were attached to a computer because I literally am writing (and re-writing) my blog each day as I drive !! I think a lot when I'm alone...sometimes too much cause then I start worrying. Only once have I actually missed a turn though ! But one day this week Michael Baisden was talking about debt and one girl called in saying she had over $200,000 in debt...... $200,000 in debt and it wasn't even because of a house. Even more disturbing was the majority of the people calling in had debt from two places....student loans and credit cards. Many said they had the credit card debt because they were unable to either find a job period or find one in their field of study.
Now this is my second go at school. The first time I didn't get my degree. The student loans from the first time are all paid off. And let me tell you, talk about being mad. Writing a check EVERY month, over and over and having nothing to show for it. That hurt...still does to be honest. What hurts more is I let my parents down. My dad passed away last year so even if I make this time, it's bittersweet. Also because my mom told me my graduation gift was going to be a brand new car...Man I almost re-enrolled that minute !!!!
Now this is my second go at school. The first time I didn't get my degree. The student loans from the first time are all paid off. And let me tell you, talk about being mad. Writing a check EVERY month, over and over and having nothing to show for it. That hurt...still does to be honest. What hurts more is I let my parents down. My dad passed away last year so even if I make this time, it's bittersweet. Also because my mom told me my graduation gift was going to be a brand new car...Man I almost re-enrolled that minute !!!!
This semester for me was paid for out of pocket....no loans....but there will be, I know there will. This time around though, I have a plan, save as I go. That way, I can make a nice payment and put a good dent in any student loan I may have to take out this time around.
Like my bio says, I'm only 34 but I have a different thought process on my finances than I did in my 20's. Not again will I get caught up in the credit card debt saga. Been there and done that. It's no fun hiding your debt from family, mates and often trying to hide it from yourself and yes if it gets high enough, YOU WILL try to pretend it doesn't exist.
Like my bio says, I'm only 34 but I have a different thought process on my finances than I did in my 20's. Not again will I get caught up in the credit card debt saga. Been there and done that. It's no fun hiding your debt from family, mates and often trying to hide it from yourself and yes if it gets high enough, YOU WILL try to pretend it doesn't exist.
I can remember my mom being disappointed when I quit school. She didn't say it but you know what your parents think of you. Initially, when the acceptance letters came in, she told me just go to the school you want and we'll make a way to pay your loans. She told me she'd help me. But when I left school in 1997...those words went out the window. I was on my own to find a job and deal with credit card debt I had secretly racked up while in school. Those first few months were so hard. It took me maybe 2 or 3 months to find a job but that didn't stop the payments from being due each month. If it weren't for my best friend, I would have had the credit card people calling me. That is one thing I can proudly say, despite any amount of debt I've ever had and no matter how hard it was to pay it, I've never had bill collectors calling me.
So, like a said, I re-focused as far as my finances. Now don't get me wrong, I still love me a good name brand bag, but I'll have to rotate the ones in the closets, in my basement, under the bed, in my son's room....yes I have bags everywhere !! I used to joke, I'd never carry a $200 or $300 bag and not have that amount of money in it, but I do it every damn day. This week, I went with less than $5 in my purse. But this time it was by choice.
One thing I am glad about are recent changes in credit card companies' ability to prey on college students...cause that's really what they do. You get an umbrella, t-shirt, water bottle that's gone in 3 weeks and you're left with 3 maybe 13,and heaven forbid 30 years of debt. You know what I'm talking about. They were at every campus open house, first week of school, heck sometimes they set up outside the gym where a game was going on....preying on you !!! Luckily, I never fell prey to that. I had credit before I got to college. I just used it wrong. I think this stemmed from my childhood for real.
See my parents worked really hard to provide me and my sister with what we NEEDED and not what we WANTED.. check those two words carefully. Cause they are important. Money was tight in my house growing up but we always had the basic needs of life. It was MY WANTS that drew me to credit, sucked me right on in. It was me wanting it NOW that drew me to credit. You know my parents bought me what they could afford and one thing my parents said if I didn't like what I had, I could go buy it myself. They just forgot to tell me to pay cash !!!! But I'm smarter now. I'm wiser now. I'm learning now.
One thing I am glad about is during the UB orientation a couple of months ago, I didn't see one credit card company. What I did see was SECU bank. Of which I am a member. Now young people, this is where you need to be. This bank is great, low rates on loans and credit cards if you really need one, only need $10 - $25 to open most accounts, informative newsletter each month...that I actually don't mind reading, opportunities to win $$$ by way of crosswords and scholarships. SECU will work with you to organize your finances.
So, like a said, I re-focused as far as my finances. Now don't get me wrong, I still love me a good name brand bag, but I'll have to rotate the ones in the closets, in my basement, under the bed, in my son's room....yes I have bags everywhere !! I used to joke, I'd never carry a $200 or $300 bag and not have that amount of money in it, but I do it every damn day. This week, I went with less than $5 in my purse. But this time it was by choice.
One thing I am glad about are recent changes in credit card companies' ability to prey on college students...cause that's really what they do. You get an umbrella, t-shirt, water bottle that's gone in 3 weeks and you're left with 3 maybe 13,and heaven forbid 30 years of debt. You know what I'm talking about. They were at every campus open house, first week of school, heck sometimes they set up outside the gym where a game was going on....preying on you !!! Luckily, I never fell prey to that. I had credit before I got to college. I just used it wrong. I think this stemmed from my childhood for real.
See my parents worked really hard to provide me and my sister with what we NEEDED and not what we WANTED.. check those two words carefully. Cause they are important. Money was tight in my house growing up but we always had the basic needs of life. It was MY WANTS that drew me to credit, sucked me right on in. It was me wanting it NOW that drew me to credit. You know my parents bought me what they could afford and one thing my parents said if I didn't like what I had, I could go buy it myself. They just forgot to tell me to pay cash !!!! But I'm smarter now. I'm wiser now. I'm learning now.
One thing I am glad about is during the UB orientation a couple of months ago, I didn't see one credit card company. What I did see was SECU bank. Of which I am a member. Now young people, this is where you need to be. This bank is great, low rates on loans and credit cards if you really need one, only need $10 - $25 to open most accounts, informative newsletter each month...that I actually don't mind reading, opportunities to win $$$ by way of crosswords and scholarships. SECU will work with you to organize your finances.
So why this blog, this week. Because I know I just saved someone. I just made one person say "she right, let me get my finances right. I graduate next semester!!!" I may never meet you but I know ONE person has read this and had a wake-up call. I'm not hoping they did..I know they did !! I'm confident I'm that good of a teacher !!!
So do I say sorry for not telling you about the happenings of the city or my classes or my job? No. Because I stopped saying sorry long time ago..... many won't get the significance that sentence !!!!!
Geez....I love this "job" !!!!!! Takes my back to my high school roots of writing. Until next week UB family.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Field Trip!
First of all, I would like to thank my generous commenters on last week's post, which I titled "The Environmental Impact of Midterms." For anyone currently attending UB, Paul Walsh from the Office of Technology Services posted a brief tutorial on how to print double sided in three of the campus computer labs! To read it, either go to last week's post (here) and click on comments, or just click (here) to go straight to the comments.
Also, I do have a travel coffee mug! And I almost always use it! However, I have heard that the environmental impact of producing a paper cup vs the impact of regularly washing a travel mug is pretty much a push. Of course, I solve this by never washing my mug.
Now onto this week's post proper. As I wrote last week, I had several midterms. I survived them, yes, its true.
I also got to experience UB Law's highly touted alumni network this week. For my civil procedure class, we are required to observe a civil proceeding. Judge Stuart R. Berger of the city circuit court was incredibly accommodating to open up both his court room and personal chambers to a group of about 15 UB law students for an entire morning. We were able to get an idea of how he prepared for each case that he hears, and how he approaches not only the law, but the procedural issues that arise during each trial. After our introduction, we enjoyed several hours of observation of pre-trial motions followed by jury selection, opening statements, and even some witness testimony. It is fascinating how much more sense this stuff makes when you know some of the background. Judge Berger gave us some facts about how busy the court system in Baltimore is, and it was impressive to watch him keep proceedings moving while ensuring all the rules of procedure were followed.
For those of you less familiar with law school, the course on civil procedure is a standard 1L course. It also is pretty dry material. Most of the time we read from a rule book. We study 12 (b)(6)(ii) motions, and Rule 15(a)(2). A lot of it is quite literally learning how to file paperwork. Important stuff, undoubtedly, but not the kind of information that keeps you up late at night pondering answers. I seriously think the highlight of my court observation experience was when the lawyer for the defense attempted to file a motion, the plaintiff's lawyer objected, and Judge Berger pulled out his rule book to look up the relevant rule. Even more impressive, while both lawyers had a general idea of the rule, Judge Berger knew, without looking, which rule it was. It was great to see that this stuff is useful not just for obscure problems involving dates during your exam, but in the real world where lawyers work!
Finally, it is worth noting that it is awesome that UB has graduates who are willing to take so much time out of their busy day for students. I am sure I speak for my whole class when I offer a big thanks to Judge Berger, his substitute clerk, and his administrative assistant for putting up with us all morning and generously assisting us with our assignment and education.
P.S. I heard a rumor that UB's mascot is the "Super Bee." Can anyone confirm or deny this?
Also, I do have a travel coffee mug! And I almost always use it! However, I have heard that the environmental impact of producing a paper cup vs the impact of regularly washing a travel mug is pretty much a push. Of course, I solve this by never washing my mug.
Now onto this week's post proper. As I wrote last week, I had several midterms. I survived them, yes, its true.
I also got to experience UB Law's highly touted alumni network this week. For my civil procedure class, we are required to observe a civil proceeding. Judge Stuart R. Berger of the city circuit court was incredibly accommodating to open up both his court room and personal chambers to a group of about 15 UB law students for an entire morning. We were able to get an idea of how he prepared for each case that he hears, and how he approaches not only the law, but the procedural issues that arise during each trial. After our introduction, we enjoyed several hours of observation of pre-trial motions followed by jury selection, opening statements, and even some witness testimony. It is fascinating how much more sense this stuff makes when you know some of the background. Judge Berger gave us some facts about how busy the court system in Baltimore is, and it was impressive to watch him keep proceedings moving while ensuring all the rules of procedure were followed.
For those of you less familiar with law school, the course on civil procedure is a standard 1L course. It also is pretty dry material. Most of the time we read from a rule book. We study 12 (b)(6)(ii) motions, and Rule 15(a)(2). A lot of it is quite literally learning how to file paperwork. Important stuff, undoubtedly, but not the kind of information that keeps you up late at night pondering answers. I seriously think the highlight of my court observation experience was when the lawyer for the defense attempted to file a motion, the plaintiff's lawyer objected, and Judge Berger pulled out his rule book to look up the relevant rule. Even more impressive, while both lawyers had a general idea of the rule, Judge Berger knew, without looking, which rule it was. It was great to see that this stuff is useful not just for obscure problems involving dates during your exam, but in the real world where lawyers work!
Finally, it is worth noting that it is awesome that UB has graduates who are willing to take so much time out of their busy day for students. I am sure I speak for my whole class when I offer a big thanks to Judge Berger, his substitute clerk, and his administrative assistant for putting up with us all morning and generously assisting us with our assignment and education.
P.S. I heard a rumor that UB's mascot is the "Super Bee." Can anyone confirm or deny this?
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