October once brought crisp weather (which brought an excuse for new sweaters), homecoming games, and the promise of colorful leaves. My graduation from my school years and into adulthood killed my homecoming spirit and marked my migration to a place where the season change is negligible. But, while some of my childhood obsessions remain - the costumes and the candy have evolved into smaller costumes and spiked cider - other signs of fall have developed from more adult concerns. You see, the dawn of autumn also signals the beginning of October and of Breast Cancer Awareness Month.
Almost exactly a year ago, I was drinking on a (still very warm) day with some friends at the pool and I randomly felt a large lump in my left breast. I pointed it out to my friends who did not shrug it off as I had hoped they would, but rather urged me to see a doctor immediately. It turns out that when you call a doctor about such things, they clear a spot for you in their schedule pretty quickly.
This first doctor's appointment put many in motion. Each time, I visited a different specialist for a different procedure, but every time, one thing remained the same: they always assured me it would be nothing, but always ended up being something. After awhile, I stopped being comforted by anyone's assurances.
You see, I was 27 years old and have no family history of breast cancer - or any kind of cancer, really, at all - and so my risk factors were low. But after a visit to my regular doctor, a mammogram, a sonogram, and an appointment with a surgeon, I learned that I did, in fact, have a tumor.
And, so, approximately four weeks after casually finding the lump over cocktails, I went into surgery.
To be clear, I was fortunate: the tumor was completely benign and they don't expect anything similar to return. I am, however, still thinking about all of this for a couple of different reasons this October.
First, it's October. Awareness is the reason for the season - and I want everyone, even those who don't believe they are at risk, to be aware of the steps they should be taking to prevent what they can prevent.
Second, we are on the eve (four days from now) of our group's Light the Night walk for Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. We are doing this for my friend Frank. When he was diagnosed with lymphoma, it was only a few months after my own surgery.
I will always think about how quickly it came on - how one day I found something weird and only four weeks later, someone was cutting me open. I will always think about how scary it was, sitting in a room full of women who were twice my age, some without hair, waiting to get a mammogram- and later watching a sonogram tech leave the room to find the doctor, to give me bad news. I remember that I couldn't even tell anyone what was going on, because the few times that I did, people reacted with such fear that it increased my own doubt.
And I was lucky.
One day, my friend Frank was making fun of me because I drank too much and did the worm at a drag show on my birthday, and then he had the flu... and then he was starting chemo. Now he is fighting for his life and the only thing I know how to do is try to raise as much money and show as much support as I can - to show Frank I care, to encourage him, and to help the other people that are in the same situation.
Cancer touches so many people, no matter what kind of cancer and no matter what month it is and no matter how old you are or how healthy you are. I urge everyone to do what they need to do to stay healthy and to contribute where they can to eradicate it altogether.
Love you FB.
Monday, October 15, 2012
Monday, July 9, 2012
Fifty Shades of Blushing...
Upon reading the first few salacious scenes in the first Fifty Shades novel, I couldn't help but recall those embarrassing yet exciting moments as a pre-teen (that's what we were called in the Judy Blume days; I believe the Bieber generation prefers the term "tween") when I managed to sneak a peek -or a read, as it were- of treasures in my mom's Danielle Steele collection. Coincidentally, it was my mother who sent me the Fifty Shades book. And, so it seems, puberty and personal growth experiences aside, reading these things as an adult still makes me blush... I will spare everyone the book report- but part of what made me blush was certainly the terrible writing. I mean, THAT was embarrassing. All of that aside (literature, smitature), I couldn't help but feel I had to hide the cover when I was in public. EVERYONE seems to know that if you're opening that otherwise benign-looking gray-colored paperback, you are basically reading porn. Or, worse, what an unsuspecting neighbor on the plane glances over your shoulder and catches the phrase, "I want your ass to be mine, Anastasia."???? Eeeeek. It appears that my shame may distinguish me as a prude. Middle-aged women with totally wholesome, innocuous appearances all around me seem to have no problem sharing with the world that they are part of this strange sort of sexual revolution. Two women in their forties - strangers to one another, from what I could tell- struck up a conversation on my flight a few days ago about their enthusiasm for Mr. Grey. No qualms at all! I feel I may be the only one (besides those who are a part of the rather unsurprising evangelical backlash) who wants to hide every single copy displayed proudly at the front of the bookstore (seeeeriously, what if a kid gets their hands on it???- they may continue reading, driven by curiosity like a young girl I once knew, who grew up to be embarrassed by all of this... oh....). I have heard of book clubs, godforbid, that are reading the trilogy. The thought of sitting around in a group of women and discussing this... oh gaaaaawd. Aside from the deep sense of oogly-googlyness I feel when I think about a gaggle of older women obsessing over this pervy nonsense, I did find myself considering why this trilogy is such a sensation (so poorly written and not entirely uniquely conceived, after all). All hail to the goddess Ms. Steele, and never forgetting the images of a shirtless Fabio that many of us grew up catching covert peeks of, it isn't like this is the first explicitly sexual novel disguised as literature for women... Not even close. I definitely think part of it is the sex. Although this is not a new genre, I think the phenomenon certainly lent some legitimacy to the whole concept for many women. It's like hoards of women are liberated by the thought that it is now "okay" to read this stuff. The truth is, it has always been ok (so far as I'm concerned), and I think this whole obsession will be short-lived. Im sure married women will go back to their regular "headaches" soon enough...But, if this is what it takes to inspire a bunch of repressed women to get some, then, well, thats not so bad... But I also kept coming back to the story (which, obviously, is interesting and what really keeps people reading once the novelty of the BDSM stuff wears off...). They call this genre "romance" which is interesting, since Ana isn't exactly swept off her feet by the man who showers her with gifts to control her and wants to violently punish her when she defies him due to his extreme intimacy issues... You know what IS romantic about that though? That whole, fixer-upper thing... You know, when a guy is soooo f-ed up (like, 50 shades of f-ed up, so the inspiration for the book goes...) that he is attractive, in this very I-want-to-nurture-you-and-love-you-and-then-fix-you-and-then-you-will-be-all-mine-and-you-will-always-love-me-because-you-need-me way. It is vital to the plot that Grey has a sordid past, full of abuse and neglect and things that make him sympathetic- so we will all cheer for Ana to change him successfully. Uh, there is a good REASON he cant emotionally fulfill her soooo... It is sexy because it is wrong, but it is romantic because she is "different" than all the other girls he's been with (all of the "firsts" he has with her) and isn't that what we all want in some way? To be the girl who can change the bad guy - while still enjoying the exotic nature of his bad side, of course... Well, heres what: I am not ruining much by telling the 2 people who haven't read this that the first installment doesn't end well for the "couple". Then again, it is a blatantly intentional cliff-hanger and I assume they rekindle something soon to fuel two more books... And I am going to read them. And if that story ends with those two together - if it dares to teach women that these mysterious, brooding, messed-up guys can really sustain healthy long-term relationships... Well, I'll be pissed. There are people who believe these books are bad for society, or for women, because of the sex. No offense, but that's dumb. Our culture is already saturated by sex and I don't see this as anything new, shocking, or upsetting. However, as a reformed fixer-upper of men, the lesson that these kinds of relationships - although I hesitate to call them that, as they are generally one-sided quests more than anything else - community service projects, as I used to say - are viable... THAT is the dangerous lesson. Anyway, it was killing me while I was on vacation to be too isolated from all to discuss this book while I was reading it. Share your thoughts, please. And if you haven't read it (and are female), read it and get back to me. You might as well at this point...
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Dont Rain on My Parade
Ever since Oprah went off the air (yes, I do realize she didn't go off the air, so much as get her "OWN" network so that she could be on the air all the time, but it just isn't the same and so I don't watch it and so it doesn't count here), I have really stepped up my reality-tv-watching game (you're impressed, I know). I used to learn a lot of lessons from the big O, like self-defense when car-jacked and/or kidnapped, or, just as important, how-to-say-no. Also, she really provided those cathartic cry-for-no-real-reason-in-front-of-my-tv moments on at least a weekly basis. So, a few years ago I was crying it out, solo, over a story about a woman who triumphed despite the tragedy of losing all three kids in a car accident (or learning important lessons from the woman who was so busy she left her baby in a hot car all day, yikes) - and these days, I'm having cry seshes over Emily falling in love on the Bachelorette. No biggie (as a side note: how pitiful is it that I'm insinuating here that one of these things is more admirable than the other. Life. Fail.).
So, yes, I do understand that to most people I know, I'm a bit of a joke for my, shall we say, overindulgence in bad tv... But, I will say, it has helped me. For example, I have strong-to-severe social anxiety that totally melts if you put me in a room with quite-literally ANYONE who watches ANY Housewives program. Give me any franchise, any day of the week,and we can go on for at least a solid 20 minutes without awkward pauses.... (ok, that, in and of itself is pretty awkward...) Judge me all you want, but I can honestly say that this juvenile, time-wasting obsession has really strengthened some of my relationships.
Anyway, there's a lot of lessons I gather from these shows and it would be less than genuine - or, shall we say, "real"- if I didn't let these valuable tidbits guide my random musings here.
Specifically, this week, I'll pull from RHNY. If this acronym means nothing to you, all you need to know as background is: housewives, white girl problems, and taking sides.
So Ramona gets mad she isn't invited on Heather's trip to London. This covers the housewives and white girl problems portion of catch-up. Ramona then gets more mad that her BFF, Sonja, isn't taking her side in the matter, behind Heather's back.
Real life connection: what is worse than hating someone by yourself? I mean, seriously, is there anything better than going out on a limb with some folks to air out your dirty laundry and getting back that they feel the same way and hate the same things, and more importantly, people, than you? (example 2: how excited is Ramona to hear basically everyone tell her that Heather is essentially just as annoying as she is? Win.)
I have always said I didn't trust people who were happy and positive all the time. I would typically explain that by saying that I don't trust them, they're not genuine, no one is that happy, yada yada. But, truth be told, the really annoying thing about the girl (or guy, for that matter) that loves everyone they meet is that they really can rain on your sh**-talking parade (and, not to mention, they are likely not the brightest bulb in the bunch either - most people aren't really that easy to like). So, I really relate to Ramona here.
I remember when I used to, at my own peril, tell my mom about all of the female drama I had (and, by the way, writing this makes me realize how long it has really been since I've had that sort of thing happen in my life, which both makes me happy and feel more evolved than the Housewives, so, there's that) and she would always - uh, let's say, "play devil's advocate"(I saw this as taking their side. Tomato/tomahto). Once I complained, she said, "do you want me to always tell me what you want to hear, or do you want me to help you?".
Uh. Right. So, now that I'm older and wiser, I thank my mom for bringing me to my senses - to a more mature place and time in the universe where I only vent to those who will tell me what I want to hear.
Cheers to that. I'm now going to go write an entry for a contest to try and win a spot at the bar in Andy Cohen's clubhouse. Will update soon.
So, yes, I do understand that to most people I know, I'm a bit of a joke for my, shall we say, overindulgence in bad tv... But, I will say, it has helped me. For example, I have strong-to-severe social anxiety that totally melts if you put me in a room with quite-literally ANYONE who watches ANY Housewives program. Give me any franchise, any day of the week,and we can go on for at least a solid 20 minutes without awkward pauses.... (ok, that, in and of itself is pretty awkward...) Judge me all you want, but I can honestly say that this juvenile, time-wasting obsession has really strengthened some of my relationships.
Anyway, there's a lot of lessons I gather from these shows and it would be less than genuine - or, shall we say, "real"- if I didn't let these valuable tidbits guide my random musings here.
Specifically, this week, I'll pull from RHNY. If this acronym means nothing to you, all you need to know as background is: housewives, white girl problems, and taking sides.
So Ramona gets mad she isn't invited on Heather's trip to London. This covers the housewives and white girl problems portion of catch-up. Ramona then gets more mad that her BFF, Sonja, isn't taking her side in the matter, behind Heather's back.
Real life connection: what is worse than hating someone by yourself? I mean, seriously, is there anything better than going out on a limb with some folks to air out your dirty laundry and getting back that they feel the same way and hate the same things, and more importantly, people, than you? (example 2: how excited is Ramona to hear basically everyone tell her that Heather is essentially just as annoying as she is? Win.)
I have always said I didn't trust people who were happy and positive all the time. I would typically explain that by saying that I don't trust them, they're not genuine, no one is that happy, yada yada. But, truth be told, the really annoying thing about the girl (or guy, for that matter) that loves everyone they meet is that they really can rain on your sh**-talking parade (and, not to mention, they are likely not the brightest bulb in the bunch either - most people aren't really that easy to like). So, I really relate to Ramona here.
I remember when I used to, at my own peril, tell my mom about all of the female drama I had (and, by the way, writing this makes me realize how long it has really been since I've had that sort of thing happen in my life, which both makes me happy and feel more evolved than the Housewives, so, there's that) and she would always - uh, let's say, "play devil's advocate"(I saw this as taking their side. Tomato/tomahto). Once I complained, she said, "do you want me to always tell me what you want to hear, or do you want me to help you?".
Uh. Right. So, now that I'm older and wiser, I thank my mom for bringing me to my senses - to a more mature place and time in the universe where I only vent to those who will tell me what I want to hear.
Cheers to that. I'm now going to go write an entry for a contest to try and win a spot at the bar in Andy Cohen's clubhouse. Will update soon.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Green with Facebook Envy
Facebook Envy - we all have a little bit of it, right? As for me, each perusal of my news feed reveals photos of travels to exotic countries, big moves to exciting new cities, jobs as fashion magazine editors and Hollywood actors - all of others that I, at least temporarily, wish i could be. Really, honestly, even the constant barrage of baby pictures and wedding date reminders makes me a little green...
I haven't been writing in my blog for a little while because I think that, somewhere in the midst of my own life changes and these images of what a great life is "supposed" to be, I lost a little bit of me. I have no idea where I'm going, but even more frightening, no clue as to where I really want to be.
The primary assumption behind Facebook jealousies must be that the exploits that our 1000 closest friends find themselves enjoying - and posting for the world to see - must be quite fulfilling - either that, or they are something that WE would appreciate, if only we had the chance... [insert reasons why your life can't be as cool as that girl spending a random week in Thailand... Does anyone have a job anymore???]
Of course, then there are those with the constantly negative Facebook posts. You know, the person who always has a crisis. My cat is dying, my pants split, my job sucks, it is raining, and I lost a limb today... Yadayadayada. Boresville. But then, of course, these Facebook friends play the imperative role of making you feel so much better about your own life. This is exactly why I insist on watching the Real Housewives (or, more importantly, Tough Love : New Orleans) - I am SO organized and together, comparatively speaking.
The truth is, the majority of us likely find ourselves somewhere in the middle. Life is never perfect, whether documenting our cruise around the Mediterranean or not (although I think it doesn't hurt) or posting about our lives as stay-at-home moms - there's always someone else to be jealous of (what? Someone already came up with that? The grass is greener? Huh....)
In the last year, as my life has changed drastically - I think I told myself that I didn't have much interesting to say anymore. If I don't have crazy dating stories or incredibly strong opinions about politics and social issues to share... Well, what do I really have?
The reality is, that I was likely never that interesting to begin with and anyone reading this is probably doing me a favor (which I appreciate, so thanks!). But I'm learning more than ever about myself and maybe those are the kinds of things I should share.
So, that's it for tonight. I'm going to make a more concerted effort to update more and pressure myself less to come up with super witty and/or importantly intelligent posts. There are some major life changes in the works, but nothing that can be shared with my tens of readers yet...
Xo.xo.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Heart-shaped Humiliation
Confession:
I let Valentine's Day get to me.
I've been a member of the Hallmark-holiday-blablabla team for as long as I can remember. (We might also be known as "bitter" - you might be familiar with our group.) I'm slowly starting to realize that for my entire adult life, I might have been that girl that was (rather proudly, I might add), anti-everything. I never wanted to get married. Kids? No thanks. So, uh - Valentine's Day??? Clearly for ignorant, insecure consumers who mishandle their disposable incomes. (So, maybe I've been more more of a "superiorist" than "anti-everything", while I'm making up words. )
I know - it's pretty transparent. It's always the single people who hate love.
Yes, but you see - I predicted this argument and responded by remaining consistently anti-everything when in relationships as well. Ok... and maybe I did a little bit of semi-intentionally/semi-subconsciously dating the kind of guys that wouldn't have married me/celebrated Valentines with me/[intentionally]procreated with me. Something like a self-fulfilling prophecy, or something.
So - now that we've briefly psychoanalyzed my past destructive behaviors, we will fast-forward to today - Valentine's Day 2012. I've relinquished my hold on almost all of my anti-establishment beliefs (as it turns out, I just needed the right, super establishment-esque dude to get to this point) and am pretty much ready to be barefoot, pregnant, in a kitchen, and happy about it. So you can see why it was pretty important this year to hold on to my anti-valentine beliefs. It is, after all, the only thing I have left.
But, this is how it went down:
Two months ago, I "warned" Ben that I didn't tolerate Valentine's celebrations (yes, I posed it as a warning, pretending to brace myself for protests, allthewhile knowing/hoping he would later brag to his friends that I was the most awesome girl ever). Six-ish weeks of The Bachelor and Kay-diamond-real-life-engagement-story-commercials later... and I casually decided we would do dinner. Low-key, at home... but you know, together- and sort of more special than our other dinners. Many-hours-of-contemplation later and I had developed a menu, about three weeks in advance, and about four courses deep - no biggie. Somewhere along the lines, I informed him we were doing cards - but just cards - and before you know it, I've basically mandated my own love letter to myself. Finally, it reached the point of, maybe-you-should-just-put-flowers-in-my-office... or something.
I am actually really truly embarrassed by this behavior. When I came into my office this morning and saw my Valentines "surprise" - I realized how silly I had been. First of all, surprises aren't really that great - or, by definition, really surprises at all - if you demand them. Gifts and grand gestures aren't really that grand at all if there is an unspoken expectation that they will be done (or else...). Not to discount the good work of Ben - but he actually asked me if I was surprised... but why would I be? I told him he had to do it. He really had no other choice. And, seriously, the chocolates and card are really nothing in comparison to the times he has dutifully done the dishes without me asking. People say that but they aren't lying.
We all say the same things about Valentine's Day - it's a made-up day, intended to make single people feel bad and/or to make un-single people spend money. All of these things are essentially true - but you know what's really bad? I realized today that it is a holiday that is maybe unintentionally designed to make us all take for granted what we already have - whether it's a fabulous [single] life, or a really great [but maybe not most creative/great at surprises] significant other.
And I fell into the trap. For shame.
Speaking of Valentine traps -
I told my dad on the phone yesterday that I heard the average man spends $150 on Valentines Day. He called bs (while I may officially be the first lawyer in the family, our argumentative nature, I suspect, goes back several generations) and I looked into it. This "study" was done by the National Retail Federation - soooo scientifically unbiased! As it turns out, the National Restaurant Association claims that 46% of the men they surveyed just prefer a meal for Valentines Day.
:-)
I wish all of my friends, loved ones, and the couple of blog followers I have the best Valentine's Day possible - whether you're being drowned in diamonds/chocolate/roses, or drowning yourself in vodka - remember that as far as I'm concerned, all holidays are fun - but that it's important to stay grounded and remember the true meaning of the day (which is meant to be funny, as there is no strong consensus as to the actual origin of this day). The only real meaning is the meaning you give it. And I say so. And it's my blog.
<3
I let Valentine's Day get to me.
I've been a member of the Hallmark-holiday-blablabla team for as long as I can remember. (We might also be known as "bitter" - you might be familiar with our group.) I'm slowly starting to realize that for my entire adult life, I might have been that girl that was (rather proudly, I might add), anti-everything. I never wanted to get married. Kids? No thanks. So, uh - Valentine's Day??? Clearly for ignorant, insecure consumers who mishandle their disposable incomes. (So, maybe I've been more more of a "superiorist" than "anti-everything", while I'm making up words. )
I know - it's pretty transparent. It's always the single people who hate love.
Yes, but you see - I predicted this argument and responded by remaining consistently anti-everything when in relationships as well. Ok... and maybe I did a little bit of semi-intentionally/semi-subconsciously dating the kind of guys that wouldn't have married me/celebrated Valentines with me/[intentionally]procreated with me. Something like a self-fulfilling prophecy, or something.
So - now that we've briefly psychoanalyzed my past destructive behaviors, we will fast-forward to today - Valentine's Day 2012. I've relinquished my hold on almost all of my anti-establishment beliefs (as it turns out, I just needed the right, super establishment-esque dude to get to this point) and am pretty much ready to be barefoot, pregnant, in a kitchen, and happy about it. So you can see why it was pretty important this year to hold on to my anti-valentine beliefs. It is, after all, the only thing I have left.
But, this is how it went down:
Two months ago, I "warned" Ben that I didn't tolerate Valentine's celebrations (yes, I posed it as a warning, pretending to brace myself for protests, allthewhile knowing/hoping he would later brag to his friends that I was the most awesome girl ever). Six-ish weeks of The Bachelor and Kay-diamond-real-life-engagement-story-commercials later... and I casually decided we would do dinner. Low-key, at home... but you know, together- and sort of more special than our other dinners. Many-hours-of-contemplation later and I had developed a menu, about three weeks in advance, and about four courses deep - no biggie. Somewhere along the lines, I informed him we were doing cards - but just cards - and before you know it, I've basically mandated my own love letter to myself. Finally, it reached the point of, maybe-you-should-just-put-flowers-in-my-office... or something.
I am actually really truly embarrassed by this behavior. When I came into my office this morning and saw my Valentines "surprise" - I realized how silly I had been. First of all, surprises aren't really that great - or, by definition, really surprises at all - if you demand them. Gifts and grand gestures aren't really that grand at all if there is an unspoken expectation that they will be done (or else...). Not to discount the good work of Ben - but he actually asked me if I was surprised... but why would I be? I told him he had to do it. He really had no other choice. And, seriously, the chocolates and card are really nothing in comparison to the times he has dutifully done the dishes without me asking. People say that but they aren't lying.
We all say the same things about Valentine's Day - it's a made-up day, intended to make single people feel bad and/or to make un-single people spend money. All of these things are essentially true - but you know what's really bad? I realized today that it is a holiday that is maybe unintentionally designed to make us all take for granted what we already have - whether it's a fabulous [single] life, or a really great [but maybe not most creative/great at surprises] significant other.
And I fell into the trap. For shame.
Speaking of Valentine traps -
I told my dad on the phone yesterday that I heard the average man spends $150 on Valentines Day. He called bs (while I may officially be the first lawyer in the family, our argumentative nature, I suspect, goes back several generations) and I looked into it. This "study" was done by the National Retail Federation - soooo scientifically unbiased! As it turns out, the National Restaurant Association claims that 46% of the men they surveyed just prefer a meal for Valentines Day.
:-)
I wish all of my friends, loved ones, and the couple of blog followers I have the best Valentine's Day possible - whether you're being drowned in diamonds/chocolate/roses, or drowning yourself in vodka - remember that as far as I'm concerned, all holidays are fun - but that it's important to stay grounded and remember the true meaning of the day (which is meant to be funny, as there is no strong consensus as to the actual origin of this day). The only real meaning is the meaning you give it. And I say so. And it's my blog.
<3
Friday, January 20, 2012
Sh** People Say to PD's
My Facebook feed has recently been flooded with a lot of videos about a lot of sh** that a lot of people say. So, I'm calling this a blog-ette... and it's called "Sh** People Say to Public Defenders". The first series is about things that people say at cocktail/parties/bars and, generally, upon first meeting you, in a way that, frankly, is super inappropriate. The second is about things clients say to us. Even after four years of this occupation, I have more sympathy for the latter. Nonetheless, theres nothing like going to school for 19 years and wading through a mortgage's-worth of student debt, topped off with a test you have to spend a full two months studying for- only to be asked these things every other day. :-)
"Do you ever represent like, guilty people?"
"Do you have to like, go IN the jail?"
"Are there any clients you wont represent because of their crimes?"
"How do you sleep at night?"
"Do people ever tell you that they're guilty?"
"I could never do what you do."
"So you're just doing this for experience, right? So you can get a real job later?"
"Could you not get a job at a law firm?"
"I want a bar/paid/real attorney."
"Do you want to go to law school someday?"
"You're good at this. You should be a real lawyer."
"Have you ever had a trial before?"
"What is your win percentage?"
"I know you have too many cases, but I need you to do something for me."
"I know you work for the State."
"You aren't fighting for me."
I invite you to add more.
"Do you ever represent like, guilty people?"
"Do you have to like, go IN the jail?"
"Are there any clients you wont represent because of their crimes?"
"How do you sleep at night?"
"Do people ever tell you that they're guilty?"
"I could never do what you do."
"So you're just doing this for experience, right? So you can get a real job later?"
"Could you not get a job at a law firm?"
"I want a bar/paid/real attorney."
"Do you want to go to law school someday?"
"You're good at this. You should be a real lawyer."
"Have you ever had a trial before?"
"What is your win percentage?"
"I know you have too many cases, but I need you to do something for me."
"I know you work for the State."
"You aren't fighting for me."
I invite you to add more.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Wait, babies come from WHERE?!
When I first heard about Alabama politician Bill Johnson and the sort of strange infidelity he had in his marriage, I thought it was another predictable example of hypocritical social conservatism. Bla bla bla - a Repulican politician from the South impregnated lesbians in Australia, despite his public stance against gay marriage... sounds strange, but whatever. A Republican senator could be found gagged and naked with two male midget hookers and I'd barely look twice at the headline.
****as a hopefully-unnecessary side note, I do not think the only politicians engaging in sexual indiscretions are conservatives. I did, after all, essentially learn about blow jobs from President Clinton. The politicians who try to legislate in the bedrooms of others are the ones more fun to judge. Also, as a double side note, Mr. Johnson gave a full statement about the misdeeds of his... well... Johnson... yet the only thing he refused to comment on was the fact that he donated sperm to lesbians.
Anyway, this all brings me back to my last post- weird sexual practices and 20/20. Remember how I said I had considered selling my eggs in college for cash? Of course everyone knows that men low on cash can drop by their local sperm bank for a quick dollar. But, apparently, there is a whole black market for sperm. Actually, black market is probably the wrong term since loads of men (sorry, couldn't help it) are apparently giving theirs away- for FREE- on the Internet. Yes, I know - at first this seems obvious. After all, men have been pretty openly willing to part with their sperm for free... actually, they've traditionally been willing to PAY to get someone to take it off their hands... But, despite the behavior and/or the result, typically the goal of these types of casual encounters would not ideally be a child.
No, the men featured on this show were different. Very, very different. It featured two of the most stereotypically nerdy-looking dudes, both stereotypically computer engineers, who, not so stereotypically, donate their sperm- regularly- to random women on the Internet... for insemination.
The first story was about a married couple who can't conceive- so they pick out an engineer dude, meet him in a cheap hotel room, give him a sterile cup and some alone time and - boom! - five minutes later, they return, he leaves, and the next camera shot is one of the woman with her legs elevated on some icky Motel 6 pillows. You can fill in the rest of the blanks. She said it was important to her that her husband be present when she conceived.
The motivation for the women to take this route was primarily financial. Can't beat free sperm. Also, there was the idea that "fresh" sperm was better than the frozen kind you find in the banks. Then again, sperm banks freeze sperm to maintain its quality while they test it- for diseases... sort of a perk you may not want to forego... But, aside from the practical considerations, I also have to imagine that anonymity is a benefit of the traditional methods as well. Visitation and parental rights aside, I'm just not sure that I'd want my most vivid memories of conception to begin and end with some gross-looking dude holding a cup of his own sperm in a cheap hotel bathroom. Ugh.
This brings us to the next fine young gent. The other geeky lad was a bit more of a professional. In fact, he actually takes pride in his virility- to the point that he drinks a "fertility shake" every day. Made up of a bunch of random strange ingredients, the only proof of its effectiveness lies in his claim that tests prove him four times more fertile than the average man (and 65% of the time, it works every time). Women can be seen coming from miles to his trailer (yes, seriously) to collect a little bit of his... well, you know... success.
The rather obvious question at this point is- why? For the women, the motives seem pretty obvious. But what about the donors? Is it something about the masculine need to procreate? Does a higher sperm count translate to a higher male self-esteem? Or could it be a sign of some kind of sexual deviance? One of the dudes featured was outed on 20/20 as being involved in some shady-sounding underground porn world. Or, is it really truly just a form of community service, done with purely altruistic intentions?
One thing I'm quite certain is not a selfless act of service to one's community is the dude at the end of the show. He's a subscriber to the "natural method". Yes, it is exactly what you think it is. Dudes who will have sex with random women, for free, out of the kindness of their hearts, to intentionally impregnate them. The featured man- who was in disguise, due to his fear that his wife was too close-minded to appreciate his service to others- had impregnated six women that he knew of, "naturally".
Interestingly, then government is trying to get involved - specifically, the FDA. Apparently, even when your sperm is free, it is subject to some regulations. Granted, it is important to screen for diseases and to protect the public from the potential danger these kinds of "trades" can present... Then again, everyone in these situations seemed to know exactly what they were getting into- and risking. And, I mean, really - is the FDA going to start regulating all of the drunk people who go home from bars together and share diseases?
Mr. Johnson, the politician mentioned at the beginning, said in an interview that he had an urge to have children of his own. Although he had raised several step-children, his wife had a hysterectomy prior to their marriage that made it impossible for them to have their own. So, naturally he got involved in the Australian sperm trade. All of these guys make it sounds like there is an inherent male urge to procreate - an idea I think science would support. It also seems important to them to get across the idea that they're just trying to help... I guess this means that a few of Maury's regular guests may be up for some sort of Nobel prize soon....
****as a hopefully-unnecessary side note, I do not think the only politicians engaging in sexual indiscretions are conservatives. I did, after all, essentially learn about blow jobs from President Clinton. The politicians who try to legislate in the bedrooms of others are the ones more fun to judge. Also, as a double side note, Mr. Johnson gave a full statement about the misdeeds of his... well... Johnson... yet the only thing he refused to comment on was the fact that he donated sperm to lesbians.
Anyway, this all brings me back to my last post- weird sexual practices and 20/20. Remember how I said I had considered selling my eggs in college for cash? Of course everyone knows that men low on cash can drop by their local sperm bank for a quick dollar. But, apparently, there is a whole black market for sperm. Actually, black market is probably the wrong term since loads of men (sorry, couldn't help it) are apparently giving theirs away- for FREE- on the Internet. Yes, I know - at first this seems obvious. After all, men have been pretty openly willing to part with their sperm for free... actually, they've traditionally been willing to PAY to get someone to take it off their hands... But, despite the behavior and/or the result, typically the goal of these types of casual encounters would not ideally be a child.
No, the men featured on this show were different. Very, very different. It featured two of the most stereotypically nerdy-looking dudes, both stereotypically computer engineers, who, not so stereotypically, donate their sperm- regularly- to random women on the Internet... for insemination.
The first story was about a married couple who can't conceive- so they pick out an engineer dude, meet him in a cheap hotel room, give him a sterile cup and some alone time and - boom! - five minutes later, they return, he leaves, and the next camera shot is one of the woman with her legs elevated on some icky Motel 6 pillows. You can fill in the rest of the blanks. She said it was important to her that her husband be present when she conceived.
The motivation for the women to take this route was primarily financial. Can't beat free sperm. Also, there was the idea that "fresh" sperm was better than the frozen kind you find in the banks. Then again, sperm banks freeze sperm to maintain its quality while they test it- for diseases... sort of a perk you may not want to forego... But, aside from the practical considerations, I also have to imagine that anonymity is a benefit of the traditional methods as well. Visitation and parental rights aside, I'm just not sure that I'd want my most vivid memories of conception to begin and end with some gross-looking dude holding a cup of his own sperm in a cheap hotel bathroom. Ugh.
This brings us to the next fine young gent. The other geeky lad was a bit more of a professional. In fact, he actually takes pride in his virility- to the point that he drinks a "fertility shake" every day. Made up of a bunch of random strange ingredients, the only proof of its effectiveness lies in his claim that tests prove him four times more fertile than the average man (and 65% of the time, it works every time). Women can be seen coming from miles to his trailer (yes, seriously) to collect a little bit of his... well, you know... success.
The rather obvious question at this point is- why? For the women, the motives seem pretty obvious. But what about the donors? Is it something about the masculine need to procreate? Does a higher sperm count translate to a higher male self-esteem? Or could it be a sign of some kind of sexual deviance? One of the dudes featured was outed on 20/20 as being involved in some shady-sounding underground porn world. Or, is it really truly just a form of community service, done with purely altruistic intentions?
One thing I'm quite certain is not a selfless act of service to one's community is the dude at the end of the show. He's a subscriber to the "natural method". Yes, it is exactly what you think it is. Dudes who will have sex with random women, for free, out of the kindness of their hearts, to intentionally impregnate them. The featured man- who was in disguise, due to his fear that his wife was too close-minded to appreciate his service to others- had impregnated six women that he knew of, "naturally".
Interestingly, then government is trying to get involved - specifically, the FDA. Apparently, even when your sperm is free, it is subject to some regulations. Granted, it is important to screen for diseases and to protect the public from the potential danger these kinds of "trades" can present... Then again, everyone in these situations seemed to know exactly what they were getting into- and risking. And, I mean, really - is the FDA going to start regulating all of the drunk people who go home from bars together and share diseases?
Mr. Johnson, the politician mentioned at the beginning, said in an interview that he had an urge to have children of his own. Although he had raised several step-children, his wife had a hysterectomy prior to their marriage that made it impossible for them to have their own. So, naturally he got involved in the Australian sperm trade. All of these guys make it sounds like there is an inherent male urge to procreate - an idea I think science would support. It also seems important to them to get across the idea that they're just trying to help... I guess this means that a few of Maury's regular guests may be up for some sort of Nobel prize soon....
Saturday, January 14, 2012
What are you selling?
As my birthday approaches, I must face the truth: I am getting old. There are many signs: my metabolism isn't quite what it used to be, I can barely make it to midnight, and shots of tequila are no longer a good idea. Oh- and on Friday nights, I watch Dateline and 20/20.
Despite the fact that I am aging rapidly, I like to think that in terms of average-Dateline-watcher-age-range, I fall somewhere near the bottom. So, when I heard that this week's edition was about a crazy new culture of sex, I assumed I would not be shocked. Yes, teenagers and politicians sext and suburbanites have crazy sex parties. There are furries and fuzzies. There are large groups of swingers in the Midwest, and I even heard they let men marry men in some places. Tell me something I didn't know, old folks.
Well, they did.. and the fact that I found myself in on a Friday night, mouth agape, learning about the bizarre sexual practices of kidsthesedays from a middle-aged reporter is another sign that I'm aging. AARP card is in the mail.
I'll start by saying that when I was in college, I briefly considered donating my eggs. Yes, THOSE eggs. Based on the number of signs littered around campus, I'd assume that where there's a large number of college girls with designer handbags, there's great potential for recruiting designer baby-makers. At one point I responded to one of the trillion ads on campus. It turned out that according to the magic baby-making formula -based on a combination of things like my height, weight, and SAT score- my eggs were worth about $20,000. Although there were plenty of girls at Vanderbilt with premium and likely organic, free-range, very fancy eggs - I, apparently, was one of the few who would actually consider parting with mine for 20 grand.
When I discussed this with my friends, no one took me seriously . After all, I tend to be a bit of a stupid idea machine - and that same year, I toyed with the idea of posing nude in art classes for cash (what?! it's ART). Most people wondered if I thought it would be weird to know I had kids out there in the universe. Others asked if I would really want to facilitate the procreation process for the designer baby types. Frankly, neither of those things had occurred to me, and neither idea fazed me once they were considered. Ultimately, the only thing that stopped me was the realization that donating eggs was not exactly as simple as donating sperm. Instead of a little alone time and some nudie mags, egg donation involves several rounds of hormone shots and a rather painful egg retrieval process. Ehhhh, no thanks.
Anyway, 20/20 introduced me to some chicks who made me feel better about myself last night. (and let's be honest, isn't that why we all love tv train wrecks?)
Enter, the sugar babies. Let's not kid ourselves- it's been awhile since I though of a Sugar Daddy as a piece of chewy candy on a stick. I'm familiar with the concept. I had a female client once who referred me to sugardaddy.com. I'd be a big liar if I didn't admit to perusing the website after I saw what kind of cars she and her friends drove. I had to create a username to browse and it was Lori6969. There, I admitted it.
Either way, I get that people do these things. People like my clients. I did not realize that Ivy League students did.
They are called sugar babies and they search for their daddies online. It's kind of like a match.com where people are honest about what they're really looking for. There are websites that specialize in helping creepy old rich dudes find young, college-educated arm candy. On the list of the top ten schools participating, number one was NYU - and Ohio State and Harvard both made the list. Apparently some men offer 20 grand a month for companionship. I wonder if I'm too old to be a sugar baby... kidding... sort of.
There was discussion about whether this was prostitution. I guess there's a legal question in there somewhere. But, more than anything, it's probably something most important to the girls who are doing it. Most people don't want to be placed in the hooker category. The lines are blurred, really. Women accept free drinks every day from men at bars who want - companionship. Personally, I've always said I wouldn't date a guy who didn't pay for me on the first date. So, what is my date paying for? Uh, companionship?
Let's be honest: when a man buys a woman food or alcohol, he is essentially buying a raffle ticket for her vagina. There's no guarantees (generally), but it certainly improves the odds. So, the men on websites like sugardaddy.com just aren't big gamblers.
We are used to the idea of the stripper who does what she does to get through law school... Pretty sure every poor college student would rather date one old creepy guy for cash than strip for a thousand of them. Sounds classier too. And, who am I to judge? I almost sold my eggs (which, by the way- now that I'm old, I'm so glad I didn't). And, for real, if there was ever a reason for schools to stop raising tuition...
This post is long so I'll tell you the other half of the story tomorrow. Until then, friends-
Despite the fact that I am aging rapidly, I like to think that in terms of average-Dateline-watcher-age-range, I fall somewhere near the bottom. So, when I heard that this week's edition was about a crazy new culture of sex, I assumed I would not be shocked. Yes, teenagers and politicians sext and suburbanites have crazy sex parties. There are furries and fuzzies. There are large groups of swingers in the Midwest, and I even heard they let men marry men in some places. Tell me something I didn't know, old folks.
Well, they did.. and the fact that I found myself in on a Friday night, mouth agape, learning about the bizarre sexual practices of kidsthesedays from a middle-aged reporter is another sign that I'm aging. AARP card is in the mail.
I'll start by saying that when I was in college, I briefly considered donating my eggs. Yes, THOSE eggs. Based on the number of signs littered around campus, I'd assume that where there's a large number of college girls with designer handbags, there's great potential for recruiting designer baby-makers. At one point I responded to one of the trillion ads on campus. It turned out that according to the magic baby-making formula -based on a combination of things like my height, weight, and SAT score- my eggs were worth about $20,000. Although there were plenty of girls at Vanderbilt with premium and likely organic, free-range, very fancy eggs - I, apparently, was one of the few who would actually consider parting with mine for 20 grand.
When I discussed this with my friends, no one took me seriously . After all, I tend to be a bit of a stupid idea machine - and that same year, I toyed with the idea of posing nude in art classes for cash (what?! it's ART). Most people wondered if I thought it would be weird to know I had kids out there in the universe. Others asked if I would really want to facilitate the procreation process for the designer baby types. Frankly, neither of those things had occurred to me, and neither idea fazed me once they were considered. Ultimately, the only thing that stopped me was the realization that donating eggs was not exactly as simple as donating sperm. Instead of a little alone time and some nudie mags, egg donation involves several rounds of hormone shots and a rather painful egg retrieval process. Ehhhh, no thanks.
Anyway, 20/20 introduced me to some chicks who made me feel better about myself last night. (and let's be honest, isn't that why we all love tv train wrecks?)
Enter, the sugar babies. Let's not kid ourselves- it's been awhile since I though of a Sugar Daddy as a piece of chewy candy on a stick. I'm familiar with the concept. I had a female client once who referred me to sugardaddy.com. I'd be a big liar if I didn't admit to perusing the website after I saw what kind of cars she and her friends drove. I had to create a username to browse and it was Lori6969. There, I admitted it.
Either way, I get that people do these things. People like my clients. I did not realize that Ivy League students did.
They are called sugar babies and they search for their daddies online. It's kind of like a match.com where people are honest about what they're really looking for. There are websites that specialize in helping creepy old rich dudes find young, college-educated arm candy. On the list of the top ten schools participating, number one was NYU - and Ohio State and Harvard both made the list. Apparently some men offer 20 grand a month for companionship. I wonder if I'm too old to be a sugar baby... kidding... sort of.
There was discussion about whether this was prostitution. I guess there's a legal question in there somewhere. But, more than anything, it's probably something most important to the girls who are doing it. Most people don't want to be placed in the hooker category. The lines are blurred, really. Women accept free drinks every day from men at bars who want - companionship. Personally, I've always said I wouldn't date a guy who didn't pay for me on the first date. So, what is my date paying for? Uh, companionship?
Let's be honest: when a man buys a woman food or alcohol, he is essentially buying a raffle ticket for her vagina. There's no guarantees (generally), but it certainly improves the odds. So, the men on websites like sugardaddy.com just aren't big gamblers.
We are used to the idea of the stripper who does what she does to get through law school... Pretty sure every poor college student would rather date one old creepy guy for cash than strip for a thousand of them. Sounds classier too. And, who am I to judge? I almost sold my eggs (which, by the way- now that I'm old, I'm so glad I didn't). And, for real, if there was ever a reason for schools to stop raising tuition...
This post is long so I'll tell you the other half of the story tomorrow. Until then, friends-
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Tebowing
Tim Tebow is the kind of person I've always been suspicious of - handsome, talented, kind, principled... I use the term "suspicious" instead of something like envious because, being who I am, being like Tim Tebow doesn't sound too appealing... or... fun. Instead, my suspicions are aroused any time something, or in this case, someone, seems too good to be true. There's a reason why every Tim Tebow joke involves him as a pedophile-hiding-bodies-in-the-closet type. There's gotta be more to it. And being a Gator never helped.
The point of my ramblings today, if I may be so bold as to assert that there IS one, is not to hate on Tebow. Although it took awhile, his sainthood was established in my world the night he helped to take down the evil evil Pittsburgh Steelers. But, is it a question of good and evil?
Tim Tebow, along with the Denver Broncos, is now a part of "America's Team" [completely different than Team America, f--- yeah***]. Mainly, I guess, because it's a great underdog story. The last-minute, impossible wins and a quarterback who wasnevergonnamakeit create a pretty good story for the media and its consumers. But we can't ignore the Jesus factor.
It isn't my purpose to criticize Tebow's faith and borderline televangelism. I truly think he should be able to say what he wants, turn off or offend who he might, as I'm sure there are also a lot of fans who love and respect him for that as well. Far more interesting than one player's kind of unsensational faith (as he certainly isn't the first), is the media's fascination with it all.
Living in Florida, amidst so many (ugh) Gators, I've been hearing about Tebow, his virginity, and his favorite Bible verses for some time. Once he left for the NFL, I was quite certain he'd slide into relative obscurity, leaving me only to hear his name from a sullen Gator fan, reminiscing as a way to cope with a losing season. Then, of course, Tebow rises again (pun intended), and starts helping his team pull wins out of, well, nowhere- and the resurrection left him bigger than ever before. He went global.
Suddenly, my Facebook feed was full of friends "Tebowing", making a sensation out of Tebow's sideline prayers. And, those last-minute, crazy wins- well, they were nationally attributed to... Jesus.
Now, most of the time, this kind of stuff just makes me roll my eyes. I didn't actually start thinking critically about the whole phenomenon until Bill Maher got involved. After the Broncos got spanked by the Bills, Bill Maher posted the following on Twitter:
"Wow, Jesus just f---ed #TimTebow bad! And on Xmas Eve! Somewhere in hell Satan is tebowing, saying to Hitler 'Hey, Buffalo's killing them."
And outrage ensued. Demands to boycott HBO followed (Maher has a show on that channel). Eric Bolling of Fox News tweeted about it with the tagline #straighttohellBill (the hypocrisy is rich). And it was more than just media hype: people I know personally were discussing canceling their HBO.
Ok, so here is what in find interesting: not Bill Maher, who is always offensive to someone (and probably enjoying the publicity, right before the new season of his show premieres), and not that religion is such a hot topic (duh). But, if you find Maher's comment offensive, isn't the WHOLE thing offensive? Meaning, the Tebowing... the SNL skit with Jesus in the locker room... the entire concept that actual Jesus is actually taking the Denver Broncos under his actual arm and leading them to victory-ish... for Tim Tebow??? Doesn't he have more important things to do, like picking the winner of the Republican primary???
Maher's comments were an extension of the ridiculous metaphor... if Jesus is leading the Broncos to victory, it naturally follows that any losses would be, well... attributable to Satan. The whole thing is silly but, well... I guess that's my point. I think being offended by one thing would lend itself to being offended by the whole thing entirely. But, what do I know? The last time I said in a group that I didn't find Maher's comments offensive, I'm quite certain I was almost sent to the stake.
Any thoughts?
The point of my ramblings today, if I may be so bold as to assert that there IS one, is not to hate on Tebow. Although it took awhile, his sainthood was established in my world the night he helped to take down the evil evil Pittsburgh Steelers. But, is it a question of good and evil?
Tim Tebow, along with the Denver Broncos, is now a part of "America's Team" [completely different than Team America, f--- yeah***]. Mainly, I guess, because it's a great underdog story. The last-minute, impossible wins and a quarterback who wasnevergonnamakeit create a pretty good story for the media and its consumers. But we can't ignore the Jesus factor.
It isn't my purpose to criticize Tebow's faith and borderline televangelism. I truly think he should be able to say what he wants, turn off or offend who he might, as I'm sure there are also a lot of fans who love and respect him for that as well. Far more interesting than one player's kind of unsensational faith (as he certainly isn't the first), is the media's fascination with it all.
Living in Florida, amidst so many (ugh) Gators, I've been hearing about Tebow, his virginity, and his favorite Bible verses for some time. Once he left for the NFL, I was quite certain he'd slide into relative obscurity, leaving me only to hear his name from a sullen Gator fan, reminiscing as a way to cope with a losing season. Then, of course, Tebow rises again (pun intended), and starts helping his team pull wins out of, well, nowhere- and the resurrection left him bigger than ever before. He went global.
Suddenly, my Facebook feed was full of friends "Tebowing", making a sensation out of Tebow's sideline prayers. And, those last-minute, crazy wins- well, they were nationally attributed to... Jesus.
Now, most of the time, this kind of stuff just makes me roll my eyes. I didn't actually start thinking critically about the whole phenomenon until Bill Maher got involved. After the Broncos got spanked by the Bills, Bill Maher posted the following on Twitter:
"Wow, Jesus just f---ed #TimTebow bad! And on Xmas Eve! Somewhere in hell Satan is tebowing, saying to Hitler 'Hey, Buffalo's killing them."
And outrage ensued. Demands to boycott HBO followed (Maher has a show on that channel). Eric Bolling of Fox News tweeted about it with the tagline #straighttohellBill (the hypocrisy is rich). And it was more than just media hype: people I know personally were discussing canceling their HBO.
Ok, so here is what in find interesting: not Bill Maher, who is always offensive to someone (and probably enjoying the publicity, right before the new season of his show premieres), and not that religion is such a hot topic (duh). But, if you find Maher's comment offensive, isn't the WHOLE thing offensive? Meaning, the Tebowing... the SNL skit with Jesus in the locker room... the entire concept that actual Jesus is actually taking the Denver Broncos under his actual arm and leading them to victory-ish... for Tim Tebow??? Doesn't he have more important things to do, like picking the winner of the Republican primary???
Maher's comments were an extension of the ridiculous metaphor... if Jesus is leading the Broncos to victory, it naturally follows that any losses would be, well... attributable to Satan. The whole thing is silly but, well... I guess that's my point. I think being offended by one thing would lend itself to being offended by the whole thing entirely. But, what do I know? The last time I said in a group that I didn't find Maher's comments offensive, I'm quite certain I was almost sent to the stake.
Any thoughts?
Friday, January 6, 2012
A rose by any other name...
What's in a name? For Romeo and Juliet, it was what made their romance forbidden (and probably hotter). But what does it mean for a generation of Internet daters? Maybe a lot.
A study from the UK was recently published that looked at what names people would be most attracted to (or repelled by) when they couldn't put a name to the face. The most attractive names were: Charlotte, Emma, Hannah, and Marie for women. All very nice names, but they all strike me as very innocent, very virginal, and very sweet. Maybe the kind of girls who would bake you cookies and do your laundry. For guys they were: Jacob, Alexander, Max, Peter, and Mark. I'm no theologian, but aren't almost all of those Biblical names? They're definitely all either names of a book of the Bible or a great conqueror of Ancient times. Basically, the names for both sexes are very non-threatening.
On the flip-side, the women who got the worst responses were: Mandy, Celina, Chantal, and Jacqueline. Who even has those names??? It sounds like the cast of next season's Rock of Love. I think that's the point. For men, they were: Kevin, Justin, Marvin, and Dennis. In my personal experience, Kevin's are jokesters and Justin's are grown-up jerks/the really hyper kid in 3rd grade... But Marvin and Dennis?? Nerdsville.
I'm sure there are some differences in British names and America names anyway, but the concept itself has to remain true. I myself ave always placed great importance on names. Personally, I've never really loved my name. My real name is Loriann, which is nice and different, but I never go by that since it has often been confused with Lorraine [shudder]. So, I go by Lori, which is just kinda blah and not the kind of name that makes anyone take notice. I was always jealous of the girls with cool names that made a random guy in a bar say, "oh that's a beautiful name.". Lame pick-up line or not, I never got it.
When I was a kid I used to think that certain names would automatically make you prettier and more popular. My favorite was always Liz. I've also always been a fan of the "V" names- Vanessa, Valerie, Veronica - those are always the names of the cool, bitchy-but-beautiful girls in the movies. Oh, and I was always a Heather worshipper, long before I was aware of the movie. Alternatively, everyone knows that if you want a daughter who's destined for the pole or the trailer park (or both), you name them after a season or a day of the week.
It works the same for guys - I always wanted to date a Brad. Oh, Brads.... As a grown-up(ish), I've fantasized about dating a guy with a sexy, mysterious name like Ian or Ethan. Instead, I always got the guys with the weird and uncool names. I legitimately used to be afraid to tell people that my boyfriend's name was Bob. I mean, Bob? Seriously? I could feel their judgment and they hadn't even met him. I had a crush on a Randy and I dated a Gary. I had a really bad streak [*sorry to any of those people who may read this- I still love you but you have to know- and I couldn't change your names for purposes of this particular story*].
My teacher friends also have names they hate to see - for different reasons. Some names just always equal BAD KID. I checked, and there was a study about this too. Also British, the "naughtiest" names were Brooklyn, Callum, Connor, Liam, and Brandon [my brother's name]. For girls, no one wants a Chelsea, Alesha, and Demi.
I guess there really is a lot in a name- so all of that energy my new mommy/daddy friends are putting into naming their kids is pretty important. One of my friends wants to name her bun-in-the-oven Harrison, but is terrified people will call him Harry. I have to admit, I wouldn't pick a guy named Harry on match.com....
A study from the UK was recently published that looked at what names people would be most attracted to (or repelled by) when they couldn't put a name to the face. The most attractive names were: Charlotte, Emma, Hannah, and Marie for women. All very nice names, but they all strike me as very innocent, very virginal, and very sweet. Maybe the kind of girls who would bake you cookies and do your laundry. For guys they were: Jacob, Alexander, Max, Peter, and Mark. I'm no theologian, but aren't almost all of those Biblical names? They're definitely all either names of a book of the Bible or a great conqueror of Ancient times. Basically, the names for both sexes are very non-threatening.
On the flip-side, the women who got the worst responses were: Mandy, Celina, Chantal, and Jacqueline. Who even has those names??? It sounds like the cast of next season's Rock of Love. I think that's the point. For men, they were: Kevin, Justin, Marvin, and Dennis. In my personal experience, Kevin's are jokesters and Justin's are grown-up jerks/the really hyper kid in 3rd grade... But Marvin and Dennis?? Nerdsville.
I'm sure there are some differences in British names and America names anyway, but the concept itself has to remain true. I myself ave always placed great importance on names. Personally, I've never really loved my name. My real name is Loriann, which is nice and different, but I never go by that since it has often been confused with Lorraine [shudder]. So, I go by Lori, which is just kinda blah and not the kind of name that makes anyone take notice. I was always jealous of the girls with cool names that made a random guy in a bar say, "oh that's a beautiful name.". Lame pick-up line or not, I never got it.
When I was a kid I used to think that certain names would automatically make you prettier and more popular. My favorite was always Liz. I've also always been a fan of the "V" names- Vanessa, Valerie, Veronica - those are always the names of the cool, bitchy-but-beautiful girls in the movies. Oh, and I was always a Heather worshipper, long before I was aware of the movie. Alternatively, everyone knows that if you want a daughter who's destined for the pole or the trailer park (or both), you name them after a season or a day of the week.
It works the same for guys - I always wanted to date a Brad. Oh, Brads.... As a grown-up(ish), I've fantasized about dating a guy with a sexy, mysterious name like Ian or Ethan. Instead, I always got the guys with the weird and uncool names. I legitimately used to be afraid to tell people that my boyfriend's name was Bob. I mean, Bob? Seriously? I could feel their judgment and they hadn't even met him. I had a crush on a Randy and I dated a Gary. I had a really bad streak [*sorry to any of those people who may read this- I still love you but you have to know- and I couldn't change your names for purposes of this particular story*].
My teacher friends also have names they hate to see - for different reasons. Some names just always equal BAD KID. I checked, and there was a study about this too. Also British, the "naughtiest" names were Brooklyn, Callum, Connor, Liam, and Brandon [my brother's name]. For girls, no one wants a Chelsea, Alesha, and Demi.
I guess there really is a lot in a name- so all of that energy my new mommy/daddy friends are putting into naming their kids is pretty important. One of my friends wants to name her bun-in-the-oven Harrison, but is terrified people will call him Harry. I have to admit, I wouldn't pick a guy named Harry on match.com....
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Baby, it's cold outside
Ben found out today that I have a blog and, because he doesn't understand why I would do such a thing (or who would read it), he started calling it my "liberal manifesto". (Someday I'll write my "why opposites attract" blog...) Admittedly, it would be difficult not to comment on the Iowa Caucus tonight, with the news websites full of stories with titles like, "Santorum's Anal Sex Problem"... or, at the very least, a juvenile but hilarious look at the word, "caucus".... but, in an effort to prove that I can talk about something other than politicians who have been debating whether states should ban birth control while opposing abortion, yet promising to fix our economic problems while severely limiting public benefits... Yikes, I oughtta digress...
But, seriously, my mind has been on a far less controversial subject today- the weather. Yes, more than an unoriginal yet reliable topic of conversation for those like myself, certain that nothing is more awkward (or terrifying) than silence in an elevator, the weather in Florida is a matter of great interest to an Ohio girl like me.
I will never forget my first Florida Cold Snap. I distinctly remember a Miami newscaster warning listeners of sub-tropical temperatures; reminding his public of the importance of dressing in layers for a high of 65. I recently realized that there's an extreme discrepancy in the way Floridians even talk about weather. In Ohio, when we say, "it's going to be 55 today", not only do we mean that it's finally time to break out our shorts and visit the tanning bed, but we mean that the high of the day is 55. When a Floridian *complains* that it's going to be 55 that day, they are referring to the overnight lows.
That being said, it was legitimately cold here today. When people got a glimpse of the Ugg boots I tucked my suit pants into today, many of them commented ..."but you're from OHIO". Naturally, my response is always, "riiiight, and why do you think I came here?"- but it caused me to think about an age-old myth: does moving South truly "thin your blood"?
I spent some riveting hours in court this morning researching this issue for my readers, as loyal and plentiful as they may be. First of all, blood doesn't really "thin". Your blood either clots easily or it doesn't. If your circulation is bad, certainly different parts of your body can feel cold, since they aren't getting blood all the way down there. This is entirely unrelated to where you reside.
This led me to another brilliant question: why are you always so warm when you're drunk? (aka: where does that liquor coat come from?). Answer (copied and pasted so I don't have to re-type):
One effect of alcohol is to make the skin capillaries dilate. This brings more blood to the skin. Since the heat receptors are close to the surface of the skin, you will feel warmer. However, at the same time, you will lose body heat more quickly. (With enough alcohol, you will be more likely to freeze, but less likely to care whether you do or not.)
So, there you have it. Hopefully you know a little bit more about cold weather and I bet I successfully avoided offending anyone with such a dull topic (except, ironically, Ben, who is still banned from reading my blog).
So, drink up and warm up, wherever you are!
But, seriously, my mind has been on a far less controversial subject today- the weather. Yes, more than an unoriginal yet reliable topic of conversation for those like myself, certain that nothing is more awkward (or terrifying) than silence in an elevator, the weather in Florida is a matter of great interest to an Ohio girl like me.
I will never forget my first Florida Cold Snap. I distinctly remember a Miami newscaster warning listeners of sub-tropical temperatures; reminding his public of the importance of dressing in layers for a high of 65. I recently realized that there's an extreme discrepancy in the way Floridians even talk about weather. In Ohio, when we say, "it's going to be 55 today", not only do we mean that it's finally time to break out our shorts and visit the tanning bed, but we mean that the high of the day is 55. When a Floridian *complains* that it's going to be 55 that day, they are referring to the overnight lows.
That being said, it was legitimately cold here today. When people got a glimpse of the Ugg boots I tucked my suit pants into today, many of them commented ..."but you're from OHIO". Naturally, my response is always, "riiiight, and why do you think I came here?"- but it caused me to think about an age-old myth: does moving South truly "thin your blood"?
I spent some riveting hours in court this morning researching this issue for my readers, as loyal and plentiful as they may be. First of all, blood doesn't really "thin". Your blood either clots easily or it doesn't. If your circulation is bad, certainly different parts of your body can feel cold, since they aren't getting blood all the way down there. This is entirely unrelated to where you reside.
This led me to another brilliant question: why are you always so warm when you're drunk? (aka: where does that liquor coat come from?). Answer (copied and pasted so I don't have to re-type):
One effect of alcohol is to make the skin capillaries dilate. This brings more blood to the skin. Since the heat receptors are close to the surface of the skin, you will feel warmer. However, at the same time, you will lose body heat more quickly. (With enough alcohol, you will be more likely to freeze, but less likely to care whether you do or not.)
So, there you have it. Hopefully you know a little bit more about cold weather and I bet I successfully avoided offending anyone with such a dull topic (except, ironically, Ben, who is still banned from reading my blog).
So, drink up and warm up, wherever you are!
Monday, January 2, 2012
New Year, New Blog
Well, it's official, it's 2012! I have decided to welcome the new year with a new blog post - something I abandoned pretty early on in 2011. Just one girl among the masses you will see at the gym for the first two weeks of January, I made a lot of vows to myself for the year. This includes a vow to use my brain a little bit more - and I'm going to start by giving my writing muscles a little flex. I tend to want to revert to complete brain shut-down mode when I come home from work - just give me some mindless tv and a bit of facebook perusing, please. This has to stop... or at least, improve a little.
The past year has been a crazy one for me. First of all, I fell in love. And, without sharing too many fluffy details (both to protect your gag reflexes and my love's private nature), I can simply say that although it's certainly not the first time (and those who know me know that quite well), it's definitely the best time. There's some sort of fantastic balance I've never achieved before- undoubtedly a mixture of meeting a specific person and, in large part, timing...
In the midst of settling into a new relationship, I also had a relatively stressful year regarding my health. It was something I didn't discuss too openly nor very widely, but I did have the support of a small yet solid group of friends and family when I needed it. Let me summarize the ordeals by simply stating that there was a surgery, a tumor, more than one biopsy, and far more needles than I care to see ever again. And while I only feel comfortable putting this into cyberspace now that I can say everything turned out fine and I am healthy, I would certainly strongly encourage all the women in my life to maintain their regular health screenings. It can be your resolution.
As it turns out, the steady combination of upheaval and overwhelming delight in my life in 2011, as a result of the events shared here and those that will remain personal, created obviously a strong sense of personal growth and contentment - but also more of a desire for balance. I've always struggled with balance, in a trillion arenas of my life - but I've always been pretty lenient on myself regarding the failures as it always seems to indicate that there are just too many people to love, things to do, games to play, and subjects to learn... that really, the struggle itself seems to reveal itself as a blessing.
Nonetheless, I have resolved to do many things this year. It's come to my attention that there's this whole, righteous anti-resolution movement - but I am nothing if not a slave to tradition. There's something ceremonial about the process, even if some are a bit more successful than others (I think I wrote a blog this time last year about resolving to make my bed every day? Uh... right.). Personally, I like to think of it the way my yoga instructor teaches... more of a process of setting your intentions for the year.
At the end of the day (or, as it goes here, at the end of the year), we all want the same things: better health, better friendships, better organization - and, really, just a whole lot of love and happiness. I guess we all just kind of plan to get there in different ways- person to person, and year to year. And, even if we are "anti-resolution", it is difficult not to think of the beginning of another year as a little bit of a clean slate.
Good luck to everyone in accomplishing all you want to accomplish... and, if I do things the way I want to, you'll hear more from me about how that's going in 2012 ;-)
The past year has been a crazy one for me. First of all, I fell in love. And, without sharing too many fluffy details (both to protect your gag reflexes and my love's private nature), I can simply say that although it's certainly not the first time (and those who know me know that quite well), it's definitely the best time. There's some sort of fantastic balance I've never achieved before- undoubtedly a mixture of meeting a specific person and, in large part, timing...
In the midst of settling into a new relationship, I also had a relatively stressful year regarding my health. It was something I didn't discuss too openly nor very widely, but I did have the support of a small yet solid group of friends and family when I needed it. Let me summarize the ordeals by simply stating that there was a surgery, a tumor, more than one biopsy, and far more needles than I care to see ever again. And while I only feel comfortable putting this into cyberspace now that I can say everything turned out fine and I am healthy, I would certainly strongly encourage all the women in my life to maintain their regular health screenings. It can be your resolution.
As it turns out, the steady combination of upheaval and overwhelming delight in my life in 2011, as a result of the events shared here and those that will remain personal, created obviously a strong sense of personal growth and contentment - but also more of a desire for balance. I've always struggled with balance, in a trillion arenas of my life - but I've always been pretty lenient on myself regarding the failures as it always seems to indicate that there are just too many people to love, things to do, games to play, and subjects to learn... that really, the struggle itself seems to reveal itself as a blessing.
Nonetheless, I have resolved to do many things this year. It's come to my attention that there's this whole, righteous anti-resolution movement - but I am nothing if not a slave to tradition. There's something ceremonial about the process, even if some are a bit more successful than others (I think I wrote a blog this time last year about resolving to make my bed every day? Uh... right.). Personally, I like to think of it the way my yoga instructor teaches... more of a process of setting your intentions for the year.
At the end of the day (or, as it goes here, at the end of the year), we all want the same things: better health, better friendships, better organization - and, really, just a whole lot of love and happiness. I guess we all just kind of plan to get there in different ways- person to person, and year to year. And, even if we are "anti-resolution", it is difficult not to think of the beginning of another year as a little bit of a clean slate.
Good luck to everyone in accomplishing all you want to accomplish... and, if I do things the way I want to, you'll hear more from me about how that's going in 2012 ;-)
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Famous for all the wrong reasons?
I'm sure most of you have been wondering why I don't blog more. In fact, I'm rather certain that thoughts concerning my blog occupy most of your minds, most of the time.
(*realistically, I know it's actually presumptuous for me to even address a plural audience, as it reflects the assumption that more than one person even reads this - hi mom :) )
Seriously though - irrespective of the size of my audience, I do enjoy my little blog, and don't add to it more frequently because of this whole "simple life" I've sort of intentionally, sort of unintentionally, adopted.
I don't have Internet or cable. I probably will break down soon and get the Internet. It is sort of lame that I have an IPad and a new laptop and don't have the Internet (or any un-password-protected wireless connections to scam from). The reason I'm not "plugged in" is really more out of laziness and general I-object-to-Brighthouse-cable-ness than anything else.
As far as cable goes -- there's a bit more deliberate intention there. I basically am addicted to cable. When I do have cable, my heart palpitates and my palms sweat just thinking about all of the things I need to watch to clear room on the DVR box. I mean, godforbid an episode of Dancing With the Stars is bumped off the box before I make room in my schedule to fast-forward through it.
My weakness is specific to reality tv. More specifically, Bravo programming. Love. It.
And, so, this strangely long and rambling opening finally arrives at my point. One of those rare moments when a news story combines my two loves - criminal news stories and reality tv - in a manner that not only begs for, but requires a blog post (home Internet connection, or no).
Read on:
http://abcnews.go.com/US/florida-woman-dalia-dippolito-reality-tv-defense-murder/story?id=13467249
First of all, we can speed over the obvious: the weird news always happens in Florida. I know.
Sooo... this woman is caught on (undercover police) camera, soliciting what she [allegedly] believes is a hitman to kill her husband. Surprise, it's an undercover cop.
Before giving her the whole, surprisewe'recopsputyourhandsup!, schtufff, these [prone-to-drama] cops then call some more cops (this time in uniform) to tell her that her husband is dead. [cue performance worthy of reality tv, fo. sho.]
**the video of her Oscar-performance reaction can be seen on the page you find at the above link. worth watching.
Ok, so, she's caught red-handed. Until... she comes up with BEST DEFENSE EVER.
She claims that, the whole time police are interviewing her, she is waiting for her husband just to walk in at any moment. Because A- she knows he isnt really dead and B - her husband has orchestrated his own contract killing, not as a strange suicide plot, but rather as some sort of complicated way to get his own reality show???
Let's take a moment to reflect, as this information presents several interesting questions for the viewer.
A) What kind of reality show would this be?
I suppose some sort of Newlyweds drama meets Jersey Shore type drunk violence situation??? Nick and Jessica were cute when they bickered. Mike and Dalia would have been cute when they... plotted one another's murders???
***As apparent as my sarcasm may be, I will be honest: I would watch this
B) I was going to say: what sort of idiotic lengths are we to believe a person would go to in order to be on tv? Then I realized this was a dumb question, in an era where a brilliant pair of parents would send a balloon into the air, while convincing a nation that their child was in said balloon, whilst said child is actually being held hostage in a garage/basement, only to further their reality tv careers... and then I withdraw my question.
Ok... so, picking up where we left off:
When I got to this point in the story, I thought... ok. Well, didn't the husband just tell the police that he planned this, therefore making the prosecution of this case kind of needless and, well, stupid?
But, then you get to the part of the story where the husband testifies and says he has noideawhatshestalkingabout and was pretty shocked when he found out his wife had hired someone to kill him.
Major. Fail.
There's other evidence against her, such as text messages and independent witnesses that are supposedly going to support the State's case against her. Likely this means she will testify herself. Likely this means I will watch it.
As a side note, there are some important ironies to point out:
1- During the sting that led to her arrest, the [original] reality show Cops was taping an episode. No matter what happens, she wins in the famousforthewrongreasons department.
2- Dalia has been on reality tv shows before. Most notably, she was on an episode of The Jamie Kennedy Experiment (speaking of major fails), that... wait for it... featured a plot line involving a fake hit man!
You just can't write this stuff.
(*realistically, I know it's actually presumptuous for me to even address a plural audience, as it reflects the assumption that more than one person even reads this - hi mom :) )
Seriously though - irrespective of the size of my audience, I do enjoy my little blog, and don't add to it more frequently because of this whole "simple life" I've sort of intentionally, sort of unintentionally, adopted.
I don't have Internet or cable. I probably will break down soon and get the Internet. It is sort of lame that I have an IPad and a new laptop and don't have the Internet (or any un-password-protected wireless connections to scam from). The reason I'm not "plugged in" is really more out of laziness and general I-object-to-Brighthouse-cable-ness than anything else.
As far as cable goes -- there's a bit more deliberate intention there. I basically am addicted to cable. When I do have cable, my heart palpitates and my palms sweat just thinking about all of the things I need to watch to clear room on the DVR box. I mean, godforbid an episode of Dancing With the Stars is bumped off the box before I make room in my schedule to fast-forward through it.
My weakness is specific to reality tv. More specifically, Bravo programming. Love. It.
And, so, this strangely long and rambling opening finally arrives at my point. One of those rare moments when a news story combines my two loves - criminal news stories and reality tv - in a manner that not only begs for, but requires a blog post (home Internet connection, or no).
Read on:
http://abcnews.go.com/US/florida-woman-dalia-dippolito-reality-tv-defense-murder/story?id=13467249
First of all, we can speed over the obvious: the weird news always happens in Florida. I know.
Sooo... this woman is caught on (undercover police) camera, soliciting what she [allegedly] believes is a hitman to kill her husband. Surprise, it's an undercover cop.
Before giving her the whole, surprisewe'recopsputyourhandsup!, schtufff, these [prone-to-drama] cops then call some more cops (this time in uniform) to tell her that her husband is dead. [cue performance worthy of reality tv, fo. sho.]
**the video of her Oscar-performance reaction can be seen on the page you find at the above link. worth watching.
Ok, so, she's caught red-handed. Until... she comes up with BEST DEFENSE EVER.
She claims that, the whole time police are interviewing her, she is waiting for her husband just to walk in at any moment. Because A- she knows he isnt really dead and B - her husband has orchestrated his own contract killing, not as a strange suicide plot, but rather as some sort of complicated way to get his own reality show???
Let's take a moment to reflect, as this information presents several interesting questions for the viewer.
A) What kind of reality show would this be?
I suppose some sort of Newlyweds drama meets Jersey Shore type drunk violence situation??? Nick and Jessica were cute when they bickered. Mike and Dalia would have been cute when they... plotted one another's murders???
***As apparent as my sarcasm may be, I will be honest: I would watch this
B) I was going to say: what sort of idiotic lengths are we to believe a person would go to in order to be on tv? Then I realized this was a dumb question, in an era where a brilliant pair of parents would send a balloon into the air, while convincing a nation that their child was in said balloon, whilst said child is actually being held hostage in a garage/basement, only to further their reality tv careers... and then I withdraw my question.
Ok... so, picking up where we left off:
When I got to this point in the story, I thought... ok. Well, didn't the husband just tell the police that he planned this, therefore making the prosecution of this case kind of needless and, well, stupid?
But, then you get to the part of the story where the husband testifies and says he has noideawhatshestalkingabout and was pretty shocked when he found out his wife had hired someone to kill him.
Major. Fail.
There's other evidence against her, such as text messages and independent witnesses that are supposedly going to support the State's case against her. Likely this means she will testify herself. Likely this means I will watch it.
As a side note, there are some important ironies to point out:
1- During the sting that led to her arrest, the [original] reality show Cops was taping an episode. No matter what happens, she wins in the famousforthewrongreasons department.
2- Dalia has been on reality tv shows before. Most notably, she was on an episode of The Jamie Kennedy Experiment (speaking of major fails), that... wait for it... featured a plot line involving a fake hit man!
You just can't write this stuff.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Reality Show IQ
Not everyone loves tests quite as much as I do, I know this. I suppose I can understand why not every child got the same rush out of a math problem that I once did. As a recovering television addict, I can also understand both sides of the reality tv hysteria. Although I have somehow managed to survive a few months at this point without cable or a DVR, I can remember a time in recent history where the only thing that could get me out of bed early on a weekday was the knowledge that an episode of Real Housewives was waiting for me on that little machine.
So, what does reality tv have to do with me being a little nerdy? Apparently a lot. The SAT recently used an essay prompt that turned out to be quite controversial...about reality tv!
The 16 year-old in me weeps with excitement.
(As an aside, the SAT has changed quite a bit since most of us took it - it is now scored out of 2400 points, with an added Writing Skills section that includes an essay-writing task).
(As a double aside, I was shocked when I taught my first Kaplan SAT course and was reviewing the kids' practice tests- score after score, 1200, 1450, 1300... I thought they were geniuses. Once you put them on a scale of 2400, they'reactually pretty terrible scores. And that's more like it.)
Anyway, the following prompt appeared on the most recent administration of the SAT:
"Reality television programs, which feature real people engaged in real activities rather than professional actors performing scripted scenes, are increasingly popular.
These shows depict ordinary people competing in everything from singing and dancing to losing weight, or just living their everyday lives. Most people believe that the reality these shows portray is authentic, but they are being misled.
How authentic can these shows be when producers design challenges for the participants and then editors alter filmed scenes?
Do people benefit from forms of entertainment that show so-called reality, or are such forms of entertainment harmful?"
-----------------
Ha! That is awesome... But, apparently, not all of the nerds of America (and their pushy, overprotective parents) are pleased. Check out what one such socially-challenged teen had to say about the test question:
“I ended up talking about Jacob Riis and how any form of media cannot capture reality objectively,” he wrote, invoking the 19th-century social reformer. “I kinda want to cry right now.”
I kind of want to cry just reading this, personally. Jacob whaaa?? Out of virtue of the fact that I personally have no CLUE wtf that kid is talking about , I believe he probably aced the SAT, despite his parents' refusal to allow him to watch MTV - (and, might I add, he probably wanted to "cry right now" because he has no friends).
Meanwhile, the kid who spends a lot of time watching the tube says:
“I talked about American Idol (how it can push people to strive towards better singing skills) and The Biggest Loser (how it influences people to become healthier,)” one commenter, “bandgeek156,” wrote on College Confidential. “Wasn’t that hard from what I thought.”
That sounds like the. worst. answer. ever.
The point is, there's a lot of controversy over this because, well... people like to create controversy where it shouldn't otherwise exist. And, people get really, really, really ridiculously stressed out about this stuff.
The test isn't actually rewarding kids who watch tv over those who do not. One kid talked about Jacob Riis, the Danish social reformer (ok, I googled it), and another about Steven Tyler. It's pretty obvious who's getting into Harvard here. The essay prompt very clearly explains what a "reality show" is for all those living under a rock (the kind of rock under which one could study calculus with a practically religious fervor) and is not at all unfair to those who don't watch tv. In fact, it's quite clear that those who spend more time with Snooki than with their math book will still remain the big failures in the world of the SAT (although, in a very special and ironic twist, they get to walk away at least feeling like they aced the essay, due to their complex analysis of the rocky relationship between Sammie and Ronnie).
Personally, I loved this story... not only because I would have rocked this essay question, but because it just highlights what freaks we've created in an overly-competitive college admissions environment. The real reason some of the kids freaked out is because they spend hours preparing for these tests and anticipating potential questions... and they weren't banking on this one.
One of my favorite comments from the article's Comments section:
I was taking the SAT for the first time Saturday. When I saw the question, I freaked out. I had no clue what to put down. My tutor had told me to use Martin Luther King as an example no matter what the question, and I don’t think he fits too easily into this topic. When I looked at my paper after the test and saw that I had written about Snooki on my SAT test, I felt pretty stupid to be honest.— Sam
______
That is pretty much the best thing I've ever read. What happened to the days of going home from a football game, only to remember you better go to bed early and stop at the convenient store the next day for No. 2 pencils because, oh yeh, the SAT is tomorrow???
Here's another:
As a junior who took the SAT on Saturday, I was infuriated with the prompt. I read the Times daily and I watch the news every night, so I am more than adequately prepared to discuss the disaster in Japan or the leadership issues with Mubarak and Gaddafi. When I saw the prompt, my jaw became slack and my eyes twitched in horror. SAT essays should reference literature and current events, not reality television.— Amanda
___________
Ahh.. delightful.
In closing, I'd like to commend the College Board for not only writing what I think turned out to be kind of an interesting question (which, by the way, I've been thinking about all day), and for laughing in the faces of all the over-privileged children who have actual SAT coaches. Oh, and mostly, for freaking out the lame kids of America, before they get to college and roommates like me have to break them in.
So, what does reality tv have to do with me being a little nerdy? Apparently a lot. The SAT recently used an essay prompt that turned out to be quite controversial...about reality tv!
The 16 year-old in me weeps with excitement.
(As an aside, the SAT has changed quite a bit since most of us took it - it is now scored out of 2400 points, with an added Writing Skills section that includes an essay-writing task).
(As a double aside, I was shocked when I taught my first Kaplan SAT course and was reviewing the kids' practice tests- score after score, 1200, 1450, 1300... I thought they were geniuses. Once you put them on a scale of 2400, they'reactually pretty terrible scores. And that's more like it.)
Anyway, the following prompt appeared on the most recent administration of the SAT:
"Reality television programs, which feature real people engaged in real activities rather than professional actors performing scripted scenes, are increasingly popular.
These shows depict ordinary people competing in everything from singing and dancing to losing weight, or just living their everyday lives. Most people believe that the reality these shows portray is authentic, but they are being misled.
How authentic can these shows be when producers design challenges for the participants and then editors alter filmed scenes?
Do people benefit from forms of entertainment that show so-called reality, or are such forms of entertainment harmful?"
-----------------
Ha! That is awesome... But, apparently, not all of the nerds of America (and their pushy, overprotective parents) are pleased. Check out what one such socially-challenged teen had to say about the test question:
“I ended up talking about Jacob Riis and how any form of media cannot capture reality objectively,” he wrote, invoking the 19th-century social reformer. “I kinda want to cry right now.”
I kind of want to cry just reading this, personally. Jacob whaaa?? Out of virtue of the fact that I personally have no CLUE wtf that kid is talking about , I believe he probably aced the SAT, despite his parents' refusal to allow him to watch MTV - (and, might I add, he probably wanted to "cry right now" because he has no friends).
Meanwhile, the kid who spends a lot of time watching the tube says:
“I talked about American Idol (how it can push people to strive towards better singing skills) and The Biggest Loser (how it influences people to become healthier,)” one commenter, “bandgeek156,” wrote on College Confidential. “Wasn’t that hard from what I thought.”
That sounds like the. worst. answer. ever.
The point is, there's a lot of controversy over this because, well... people like to create controversy where it shouldn't otherwise exist. And, people get really, really, really ridiculously stressed out about this stuff.
The test isn't actually rewarding kids who watch tv over those who do not. One kid talked about Jacob Riis, the Danish social reformer (ok, I googled it), and another about Steven Tyler. It's pretty obvious who's getting into Harvard here. The essay prompt very clearly explains what a "reality show" is for all those living under a rock (the kind of rock under which one could study calculus with a practically religious fervor) and is not at all unfair to those who don't watch tv. In fact, it's quite clear that those who spend more time with Snooki than with their math book will still remain the big failures in the world of the SAT (although, in a very special and ironic twist, they get to walk away at least feeling like they aced the essay, due to their complex analysis of the rocky relationship between Sammie and Ronnie).
Personally, I loved this story... not only because I would have rocked this essay question, but because it just highlights what freaks we've created in an overly-competitive college admissions environment. The real reason some of the kids freaked out is because they spend hours preparing for these tests and anticipating potential questions... and they weren't banking on this one.
One of my favorite comments from the article's Comments section:
I was taking the SAT for the first time Saturday. When I saw the question, I freaked out. I had no clue what to put down. My tutor had told me to use Martin Luther King as an example no matter what the question, and I don’t think he fits too easily into this topic. When I looked at my paper after the test and saw that I had written about Snooki on my SAT test, I felt pretty stupid to be honest.— Sam
______
That is pretty much the best thing I've ever read. What happened to the days of going home from a football game, only to remember you better go to bed early and stop at the convenient store the next day for No. 2 pencils because, oh yeh, the SAT is tomorrow???
Here's another:
As a junior who took the SAT on Saturday, I was infuriated with the prompt. I read the Times daily and I watch the news every night, so I am more than adequately prepared to discuss the disaster in Japan or the leadership issues with Mubarak and Gaddafi. When I saw the prompt, my jaw became slack and my eyes twitched in horror. SAT essays should reference literature and current events, not reality television.— Amanda
___________
Ahh.. delightful.
In closing, I'd like to commend the College Board for not only writing what I think turned out to be kind of an interesting question (which, by the way, I've been thinking about all day), and for laughing in the faces of all the over-privileged children who have actual SAT coaches. Oh, and mostly, for freaking out the lame kids of America, before they get to college and roommates like me have to break them in.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Freedom of Impropriety?
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/03/08/us/08muskegon.html?pagewanted=1&ref=us&src=me&adxnnlx=1299682840-FWU238xhdI2NVWfWQQjKgg
I saw this article today and it really exemplified what I think is an interesting and, often times troubling, legal issue that is developing with the advent of a more technological society.
In this instance, a young 21 year-old musician in a small Michigan town decided to take on a musical project with some major shock value....not a novel idea for musicians, nor for guys in their early 20's...and in this case, not too smart.
He sang age-appropriate songs to a classroom full of first graders. Afterwards, he sang a far more (sexually) inappropriate song, this time to an empty room, and later edits a video to give the appearance that he sang the second song to a room full of innocent kids.
Inappropriate? Yeh, pretty much. But the response was equally inappropriate. The kid has now been arrested on charges of Child Pornography, facing a lifetime labelled as a sexual predator. A condition of his bond? He can't perform music...adding insult to this First Amendment injury.
The Supreme Court has decided that child pornography is not protected by the First Amendment... But this is continuously misapplied. Another example:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/28679588/ns/technology_and_science-tech_and_gadgets/
I actually saw this story first on Oprah. Again, it presents what is probably a real issue that needs to be addressed with the young ladies of society (hello, not everyone is Kim Kardashian, and nude photos of you circulating around the playground is not-so-cute)- but, again, is inappropriately addressed by the State.
Young girls were charged with sex crimes for sending nude photos of themselves to their male classmates on their cell phones. Dumb? Totally. Sexual predators? Notsomuch.
The ACLU agreed, and actually took on this case, in an attempt to bar the prosecution from even going forward with the case
(http://www.wired.com/threatlevel/2009/03/aclu-sues-da-ov/).
Just seems to me that these are all examples of local governments trying to legislate morality. Certainly these young people (essentially children themselves) are not the boogiemen we are so well-trained to fear, lurking in minivans with sugary lures. What then, is the purpose, other than to teach quite a costly (and unfair) lesson?
I saw this article today and it really exemplified what I think is an interesting and, often times troubling, legal issue that is developing with the advent of a more technological society.
In this instance, a young 21 year-old musician in a small Michigan town decided to take on a musical project with some major shock value....not a novel idea for musicians, nor for guys in their early 20's...and in this case, not too smart.
He sang age-appropriate songs to a classroom full of first graders. Afterwards, he sang a far more (sexually) inappropriate song, this time to an empty room, and later edits a video to give the appearance that he sang the second song to a room full of innocent kids.
Inappropriate? Yeh, pretty much. But the response was equally inappropriate. The kid has now been arrested on charges of Child Pornography, facing a lifetime labelled as a sexual predator. A condition of his bond? He can't perform music...adding insult to this First Amendment injury.
The Supreme Court has decided that child pornography is not protected by the First Amendment... But this is continuously misapplied. Another example:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/28679588/ns/technology_and_science-tech_and_gadgets/
I actually saw this story first on Oprah. Again, it presents what is probably a real issue that needs to be addressed with the young ladies of society (hello, not everyone is Kim Kardashian, and nude photos of you circulating around the playground is not-so-cute)- but, again, is inappropriately addressed by the State.
Young girls were charged with sex crimes for sending nude photos of themselves to their male classmates on their cell phones. Dumb? Totally. Sexual predators? Notsomuch.
The ACLU agreed, and actually took on this case, in an attempt to bar the prosecution from even going forward with the case
(http://www.wired.com/threatlevel/2009/03/aclu-sues-da-ov/).
Just seems to me that these are all examples of local governments trying to legislate morality. Certainly these young people (essentially children themselves) are not the boogiemen we are so well-trained to fear, lurking in minivans with sugary lures. What then, is the purpose, other than to teach quite a costly (and unfair) lesson?
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Musical Memories
I engage in what I like to call musical roulette. I don't own too many cd's (I never bounced back after all of mine were stolen from my car as part of my "Miami Initiation"), and although I own an Ipod, I havent updated the songs since pre-2007 (no, really). I do things the old-fashioned way. I turn on the radio, and see what comes out.
My musical tastes are as eclectic as they come - different tunes for different moods. But, what I found myself thinking about lately is the way a song can conjure up some pretty detailed memories - you know, put you in a place. It's not at all a novel idea. My friends and I were just discussing the olfactory version of this phenomenon - the way a whiff of Tommy Girl or Clinique Happy can whisk me back to 1997 (and the horrors of junior high) is almost creepy.
But, the more I brainstormed which songs could take me where, the more I realized that I could create an audio album...
Let me explain. I love photos. Scrapbooks are great, in theory, but I'm absolutely the kind of person that has a box full of scrapbooking supplies from 10 years ago and nothing to show for it. Who has that kind of time? But, sometimes a girl just needs a trip down memory lane, you know? To cleanse the soul... or, whatever.
So, I made myself a memory playlist. I have to say, listening to these songs (especially in chronological order), conjured up more feelings of nostalgia than any scrapbook that I thought about making and never did....
What follows is a sampling of my life playlist. Most of us (especially those of a similar age) probably have some overlap... but the memory associations - that's what's different for everyone. Enjoy! (and create your own....)
1. You Say, Lisa Loeb
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k3ZryyTDaOk
This is one of the first songs I can remember knowing every single word to (a feat, I might add, I was quite proud of). This one brings me back to the early 90's, singing with my friends on the bus (with all the passion of an elementary school kid who has been in love).
2. Rock Steady, The Whispers
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rPJz3syNbtE
The song came out in 1987, but takes me back to Louisville, KY, 1994-ish. I was very into dancing, but not very talented (some things never change). The recital for the last dance class I ever took as a kid was a jazz routine to this song. Every time I hear it, I can still do the moves.
3. Bennie and the Jets, Elton John
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1EtCrHBq7Ds
Ok, so, I was notsomuch alive when this song was released, howeverrr - my daddy was. Yes, this song reminds me of a sunny day, a car wash, and driving around with my dad. This was the dad-is-a-superhero era (not that he still isn't, but his old magic tricks dont work so well on me anymore). Dad used to tell us what lyrics were going to come up before they did, so that we could all sing along.
4. Sex and Candy, Macy's Playground
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-KT-r2vHeMM
Smells Like Teen Spirit, Nirvana
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hTWKbfoikeg
Interstate Love Song, Stone Temple Pilots
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ppJLI3YqwaQ
Each of these songs reminds me of the same era in my life... when I first got into music.. and my DiscMan. These songs all take me back to teenage angst and Claire Danes in My So-Called Life. Me, 10-12, headphones in my ears, and talking to no one, in the car with the fam.
5. Sittin' Up in My Room, Brandy
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CM3AMfsvfzw
This song reminds me of a time before Ray J (or reality tv, or Kim K) and... well... sitting in my room... literally. It was that awkward age, when I didn't really want to be around my family, yet didn't really have other plans, other than the occasional mall date. So, instead, I did a lot of waiting by the radio, waiting for my fave songs to come on to record (on a tape, naturally) - or - on a special day - making requests/dedications on the radio. Yeh, that's right. Brandy was really there for me.
6. Waterfalls, TLC
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8WEtxJ4-sh4
You Oughta Know, Alanis Morissette
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NPcyTyilmYY
And, when my social life developed past my bedroom - but close-by to the cul-de-sac park, we would listen to these songs on the boom box and practice cheerleading jumps.... and our Alicia Silverstone impressions.
7. I Ain't Mad at Cha, 2Pac
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=krxu9_dRUwQ
Then I fell in love, at the age of 13. And this was our song. (Only because we, of course, faught constantly and broke up every other day, and this was more the make-up song.) And I spent a significant amount of my time filling my planners with our weekly anniversaries and decorating my binders with his name. <3
My musical tastes are as eclectic as they come - different tunes for different moods. But, what I found myself thinking about lately is the way a song can conjure up some pretty detailed memories - you know, put you in a place. It's not at all a novel idea. My friends and I were just discussing the olfactory version of this phenomenon - the way a whiff of Tommy Girl or Clinique Happy can whisk me back to 1997 (and the horrors of junior high) is almost creepy.
But, the more I brainstormed which songs could take me where, the more I realized that I could create an audio album...
Let me explain. I love photos. Scrapbooks are great, in theory, but I'm absolutely the kind of person that has a box full of scrapbooking supplies from 10 years ago and nothing to show for it. Who has that kind of time? But, sometimes a girl just needs a trip down memory lane, you know? To cleanse the soul... or, whatever.
So, I made myself a memory playlist. I have to say, listening to these songs (especially in chronological order), conjured up more feelings of nostalgia than any scrapbook that I thought about making and never did....
What follows is a sampling of my life playlist. Most of us (especially those of a similar age) probably have some overlap... but the memory associations - that's what's different for everyone. Enjoy! (and create your own....)
1. You Say, Lisa Loeb
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k3ZryyTDaOk
This is one of the first songs I can remember knowing every single word to (a feat, I might add, I was quite proud of). This one brings me back to the early 90's, singing with my friends on the bus (with all the passion of an elementary school kid who has been in love).
2. Rock Steady, The Whispers
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rPJz3syNbtE
The song came out in 1987, but takes me back to Louisville, KY, 1994-ish. I was very into dancing, but not very talented (some things never change). The recital for the last dance class I ever took as a kid was a jazz routine to this song. Every time I hear it, I can still do the moves.
3. Bennie and the Jets, Elton John
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1EtCrHBq7Ds
Ok, so, I was notsomuch alive when this song was released, howeverrr - my daddy was. Yes, this song reminds me of a sunny day, a car wash, and driving around with my dad. This was the dad-is-a-superhero era (not that he still isn't, but his old magic tricks dont work so well on me anymore). Dad used to tell us what lyrics were going to come up before they did, so that we could all sing along.
4. Sex and Candy, Macy's Playground
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-KT-r2vHeMM
Smells Like Teen Spirit, Nirvana
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hTWKbfoikeg
Interstate Love Song, Stone Temple Pilots
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ppJLI3YqwaQ
Each of these songs reminds me of the same era in my life... when I first got into music.. and my DiscMan. These songs all take me back to teenage angst and Claire Danes in My So-Called Life. Me, 10-12, headphones in my ears, and talking to no one, in the car with the fam.
5. Sittin' Up in My Room, Brandy
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CM3AMfsvfzw
This song reminds me of a time before Ray J (or reality tv, or Kim K) and... well... sitting in my room... literally. It was that awkward age, when I didn't really want to be around my family, yet didn't really have other plans, other than the occasional mall date. So, instead, I did a lot of waiting by the radio, waiting for my fave songs to come on to record (on a tape, naturally) - or - on a special day - making requests/dedications on the radio. Yeh, that's right. Brandy was really there for me.
6. Waterfalls, TLC
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8WEtxJ4-sh4
You Oughta Know, Alanis Morissette
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NPcyTyilmYY
And, when my social life developed past my bedroom - but close-by to the cul-de-sac park, we would listen to these songs on the boom box and practice cheerleading jumps.... and our Alicia Silverstone impressions.
7. I Ain't Mad at Cha, 2Pac
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=krxu9_dRUwQ
Then I fell in love, at the age of 13. And this was our song. (Only because we, of course, faught constantly and broke up every other day, and this was more the make-up song.) And I spent a significant amount of my time filling my planners with our weekly anniversaries and decorating my binders with his name. <3
8. I Don't Want to Be a Playa No More, Big Pun ft. Joe
And then, the most important thing to me became... needing a pager! If you asked my mom, they were for drug dealers - but, to me, all the cool kids did. Remember how you could have a song intro (which many of my clients STILL do on their phones) -- this was mine, forever. Because, yeh, I was so tired of bein' a playa (when I was 14).
9. In Da Club, 50 Cent
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5qm8PH4xAss
This takes me back to Vanderbilt - pregaming in the dorms. Specifically, my 19th birthday - when we hit the streets of Nashville and pretended it was my 21st. Goooood times.
10. Like a Prayer, Madonna
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=79fzeNUqQbQ
I know - it seems a little out of order - but it isn't at all. Spring Break, 2003, Brownsville, TX. I was on a community service-based Alternative Spring Break Trip. One of the best times of my life with some of my favorite people ever. We played this song every morning as an "alarm" - and I can't hear it without thinking of that. Love.
Once I got going, I kept thinking of more and more... but I'll leave you with the top ten - in honor of TRL, another fave memory ;-) Thanks for coming on this magical, musical journey!
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Your Inner Vixen
So, most of you are aware by now that I've declared 27 the year of the red lip. But, what you may not know, is that this is not just a major fashion decision/silly Facebook fodder. This is a lifestyle choice.
Let me explain: I have always admired red lipstick - on models, on actresses, and on my occasional fashion-forward friend. Ok, so, what's the problem? Every time I try it on, I think, "oh no... this isn't for me... I can't pull this off." I mean, forget "finding the right shade"... I needed a new face to do this. Perhaps Scarlett Johansson or Angelina Jolie could spare their lovely ones???
Also, let's be honest... red lips will really get you noticed. But, I never thought it was really in the *fun* kind of way, but rather in the, "Oh my gosh, look at that harlot, whodoesshethinksheis" kinda way.... and I just wasn't willing to be the butt of a stranger's joke for a little cosmetic satisfaction.
So... why now? Well, I didn't get a new face, in case you were wondering. But, I have decided to embrace it. To just... be satisfied. I'm still going to stick to the New Years mantras - eat healthier (um, tofu buffalo wings, yum!), work out (zumba and yoga, the new - for me - wave of fitness) - but, while I'm working towards my best, I'll be... satisfied. And, if, I don't know, my birthday takes a whole week (or month) to celebrate... I'll indulge when I want and skip the gym when I want.
And, as for being noticed (and maybe not even in a nice way)... well... I'm going to be fearless at 27 (or, apparently, at least highly optimistic). If you know me, you know I don't always shy away from attention... but, as much as I may love an audience (or a jury), please don't ask me to: order a pizza, send my food back when it's wrong, ask for a better deal, call customer service, talk to my boss... all of these things (and many more) have been known to reduce me to tears (or at the very least, anxiety). And, well... that's just silly.
This year, I will pick up the phone... and I will order pizza. Gone are the days of ordering exclusively from the places that allow me to do it online and avoid all person-to-person contact...
So, silly... maybe. But, with a purpose. And, I have to tell you the truth... I've tried out the look for two days in a row now... and the attention I've received... well, it hasn't been all bad.
Tips for red lips follow, in case you'd like to embrace your inner sex kitten this year ;-) (And, if you're a guy who is, for some reason, still reading this, make sure you give props to the ladies you see, rocking the look... trust me, it takes confidence).
Red lips Do's and Dont's:
http://beauty.about.com/od/howtos/a/redlips.htm
Suggestions to buy:
http://www.elle.com/Beauty/Makeup-Skin-Care/Red-Alert
The one I bought:
http://www.amazon.com/Givenchy-Rouge-Interdit-Satin-Lipstick/dp/B001HV0PEM
Let me explain: I have always admired red lipstick - on models, on actresses, and on my occasional fashion-forward friend. Ok, so, what's the problem? Every time I try it on, I think, "oh no... this isn't for me... I can't pull this off." I mean, forget "finding the right shade"... I needed a new face to do this. Perhaps Scarlett Johansson or Angelina Jolie could spare their lovely ones???
Also, let's be honest... red lips will really get you noticed. But, I never thought it was really in the *fun* kind of way, but rather in the, "Oh my gosh, look at that harlot, whodoesshethinksheis" kinda way.... and I just wasn't willing to be the butt of a stranger's joke for a little cosmetic satisfaction.
So... why now? Well, I didn't get a new face, in case you were wondering. But, I have decided to embrace it. To just... be satisfied. I'm still going to stick to the New Years mantras - eat healthier (um, tofu buffalo wings, yum!), work out (zumba and yoga, the new - for me - wave of fitness) - but, while I'm working towards my best, I'll be... satisfied. And, if, I don't know, my birthday takes a whole week (or month) to celebrate... I'll indulge when I want and skip the gym when I want.
And, as for being noticed (and maybe not even in a nice way)... well... I'm going to be fearless at 27 (or, apparently, at least highly optimistic). If you know me, you know I don't always shy away from attention... but, as much as I may love an audience (or a jury), please don't ask me to: order a pizza, send my food back when it's wrong, ask for a better deal, call customer service, talk to my boss... all of these things (and many more) have been known to reduce me to tears (or at the very least, anxiety). And, well... that's just silly.
This year, I will pick up the phone... and I will order pizza. Gone are the days of ordering exclusively from the places that allow me to do it online and avoid all person-to-person contact...
So, silly... maybe. But, with a purpose. And, I have to tell you the truth... I've tried out the look for two days in a row now... and the attention I've received... well, it hasn't been all bad.
Tips for red lips follow, in case you'd like to embrace your inner sex kitten this year ;-) (And, if you're a guy who is, for some reason, still reading this, make sure you give props to the ladies you see, rocking the look... trust me, it takes confidence).
Red lips Do's and Dont's:
http://beauty.about.com/od/howtos/a/redlips.htm
Suggestions to buy:
http://www.elle.com/Beauty/Makeup-Skin-Care/Red-Alert
The one I bought:
http://www.amazon.com/Givenchy-Rouge-Interdit-Satin-Lipstick/dp/B001HV0PEM
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Sick Day Wisdom
I was really sick today and had to take a day off. I was relegated to my couch and, for the most part, it kind of sucked.
This is pretty much all Ollie and I did all day.
I realized I really like being a part of the grown-up world. But, I did learn some things from my time off.
Anyway, I've always said that I could never be a stay-at-home mom (or, worse, stay-at-home-wife) because I'm just not cut out for it. This is still true (I think) -- but Ollie is pretty low maintenance, so maybe I'd reconsider with an actual child. Either way, it seems that there's a whole other world going on Monday-Friday between the hours of 8 and 5. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. :-)
This is pretty much all Ollie and I did all day.
I realized I really like being a part of the grown-up world. But, I did learn some things from my time off.
First -- when you don't have cable, you're limited to a few channels (well, technically 40, but when you eliminate the religious channels and the Spanish channels, we're pretty much down to 6). Most of what I learned today came from these channels.
First, do you know who this guy is?
First, do you know who this guy is?
He is (for now) Alabama Governor Robert Bentley. I learned today from the ladies of The View that all people who have not accepted Christ as their Savior are not his brothers and sisters. News? Not really. Cool for a governor? Nope, not really.
Anyway, I guess it's pretty big news and I didn't really need Elisabeth Hasselbeck (who, of course, found some way to justify this as well) to tell me this -- but, nonetheless, it's where I heard it first.
Then... do you know where this statement comes from? :
"This program is both dedicated to the faithful and presented to the false-
Anyway, I guess it's pretty big news and I didn't really need Elisabeth Hasselbeck (who, of course, found some way to justify this as well) to tell me this -- but, nonetheless, it's where I heard it first.
Then... do you know where this statement comes from? :
"This program is both dedicated to the faithful and presented to the false-
An old favorite, of course, Cheaters is perfect for sick day tv (mindless, entertaining... mindless). It's the first time I've ever noticed that intro line -- pretty poignant for trash tv, huh? I guess it's sort of like Springer's Moment of Truth.
Also interesting, it was man day -- the betrayed were all men. That's sort of unusual for the show. Kind of a nice change of pace. I noticed two things of note: 1- the man will always react with violence (towards the other man... sometimes a betrayed woman will gang up with the mistress in forces against the cheating man... men don't seem to do this) and 2 - the woman typically just doesn't care (usually the cheating man goes through a lot of trouble to make excuses -- the woman doesnt seem to need to).
This parallels the discussion on Good Morning America - they had a story about the increasing likelihood (statistically) that a woman will stray from her marriage. Meredith Viera isn't sure if it's actually in
creasing or if women are just talking about it more. Discuss.
Also, I learned from my Z-Pack that I am part of only 3% of all patients that will experience stomach pains as a result of taking an antibiotic.
(Apparently, a pretty common side effect with many antibiotics: http://www.medhelp.org/posts/Gastroenterology/Antibiotic-Caused-Pain/show/233796)
So, that was fun.
I also learned a dance today:
Also interesting, it was man day -- the betrayed were all men. That's sort of unusual for the show. Kind of a nice change of pace. I noticed two things of note: 1- the man will always react with violence (towards the other man... sometimes a betrayed woman will gang up with the mistress in forces against the cheating man... men don't seem to do this) and 2 - the woman typically just doesn't care (usually the cheating man goes through a lot of trouble to make excuses -- the woman doesnt seem to need to).
This parallels the discussion on Good Morning America - they had a story about the increasing likelihood (statistically) that a woman will stray from her marriage. Meredith Viera isn't sure if it's actually in
creasing or if women are just talking about it more. Discuss.
Also, I learned from my Z-Pack that I am part of only 3% of all patients that will experience stomach pains as a result of taking an antibiotic.
(Apparently, a pretty common side effect with many antibiotics: http://www.medhelp.org/posts/Gastroenterology/Antibiotic-Caused-Pain/show/233796)
So, that was fun.
I also learned a dance today:
Double dream hands, y'all.
Also -- I got an update on Bachelor contestant vampiress girl.
If you don't know her, this is her:
She just wears those. For fun. I guess. She's maybe kinda serious.
Anyway, I found out she voluntarily left the show. Who cares? Maybe no one, but hey, this is my blog and this is what I learned today.
I also tried out a new recipe. I'll call it "cake in a cup":
Get a big coffee mug - put 4T flour, 4T sugar, 2T cocoa in it and mix it around. Add an egg, mix it up. Add 3T milk, 3T oil. Mix well.
Microwave for 3 minutes.
Microwave for 3 minutes.
It was awesome (thanks, Dad).
Anyway, I've always said that I could never be a stay-at-home mom (or, worse, stay-at-home-wife) because I'm just not cut out for it. This is still true (I think) -- but Ollie is pretty low maintenance, so maybe I'd reconsider with an actual child. Either way, it seems that there's a whole other world going on Monday-Friday between the hours of 8 and 5. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. :-)
Friday, January 14, 2011
The Truth About Your Sign
I haven't thought about the Zodiac since some D-Bag asked me about it ("what's your sign") at a bar (no, really, it's so lame that some people think they can make it cool). But, lately it's been all over the news that our signs may have changed.
This morning, in Court, I asked every single person in the courtroom (see below, my personality trait: incessantly chatty) their birthdate, so I could tell them their "new" sign. Funny, but it caused an uproar. Most of us probably don't put much stock in our Zodiac sign -- but it's certainly a part of your identity anyway. The news that it may have changed put everyone in a tizzy!
Well, apparently we can all relax (I had to send a retraction email to my entire courtroom just now):
I can honestly say I do not understand the science behind this, but it seems pretty legit to me! Apparently there's more than one Zodiac calendar -- and all of us know the Tropical Zodiac -- which is not the one that has changed (good news for all those with a Leo tattoo!).
In honor of this huge scare (you can't take Pluto away, and then my Aquarius!), I decided to take a look at the traits of an Aquarius, to see where I measured up. Interestingly, the sign you are familar with (determined by your birthdate), is really your Sun Sign. Apparently, it is your Moon Sign that more accurately describes you (calculated by your exact moment of birth) -- coincidentally, mine are the same (Aquarius). Perhaps that's why this is so creepy:
*****************************************************************************
Traits
Good communication skills (do I ever shut up?), sociable (aside from my social anxiety...), idealist (Public Defender, hello), tactless (filter is broken), desires change (some exes have referred to it lovingly as "never satisfied").
Good communication skills (do I ever shut up?), sociable (aside from my social anxiety...), idealist (Public Defender, hello), tactless (filter is broken), desires change (some exes have referred to it lovingly as "never satisfied").
Likes
Fame (not sure why I dont have it yet), themselves (am I supposed to admit to this?), privacy (prefer to live alone), eccentricity (let your freak flag fly!), surprises (YES! I dont get enough of these...), living within their means (believe it or not, I'm a regular Suze Ormond).
Dislikes
Emotion, intimacy (disagree, but have grown out of this), taken for granted (may have told someone last night I felt "unappreciated"), being 'pinned down' (uh... yep), senseless extravagance (except on birthdays).
Their own, distinct and sometimes very original opinion, and they are not going to change this opinion no matter what, even if they will be left completely alone. It is very important for these individuals to retain their independence.
Often the Moon in Aquarius individuals have some outstanding abilities in one or another field, and they work like a magnet for those people who share their interests. This is why so often they take a central place in the company of like-minded friends. And even there they somehow manage to keep their uniqueness.
As a result of their character, quite often the Moon in Aquarius folks can become really alone in their personal life, and their constant urge for independence can lead to chronic emotional stress. Hence their susceptibility to the disorders of nervous and circulatory systems, as also those unpredictable changes in their mood. There is an impression that at times they are getting tired of themselves, and to get rid of this tiredness they are trying to change abruptly, as if to become a different person.
To restore after a significant stress, the Moon in Aquarius persons need to have a hobby which they could plunge themselves into, forgetting about the surrounding world.
To restore after a significant stress, the Moon in Aquarius persons need to have a hobby which they could plunge themselves into, forgetting about the surrounding world.
The Moon in Aquarius parents can be very original. From the early years they will make clear to their child that everyone's individuality is precious, and everyone should be independent. As a result, their kids might not be always properly fed or dressed, but they will become self-reliant earlier than their peers, and their talents will develop more successfully.
******************************************************************************
Hopefully it was interesting to read about me -- and if you skipped over all of it to the end, you wouldn't know that, because of my Aquarius-ism, I love to talk, a lot, about myself. So, this has been fun.
But, for the record, for a moment this morning, I thought I had become a Capricorn. A Capricorn, in a nutshell, is: organized, tidy, practical, has a strong work ethic, conventional, respects authority, is a perfectionist, likes simple food, and hates surprises.
Uhhh... I think I'll stick with Aquarius, thanks.
Go ahead, take your own celestial journey:
To find your Sun Sign:
To find your Moon Sign:
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Protecting your right to flush in privacy
Some of you reading this are lawyers, maybe even my co-workers, and will find (I think) this immediately interesting.
Others are not and will groan about a boring law post. Excuse me and the fact that I sort of erroneously assume that what I do is interesting to all (although that is immediately obvious if you ever go to dinner with me and I drone on about my cases...). Some may find it interesting for other reasons (ahem, a-put-out-your-joint, a-thanks).
But, for real... I think this is important for everyone.
The Supreme Court (of the US - the big cajunas!) is currently considering a case called State v. King, which comes from Kentucky.
In this case, Mr. King (and for traditional defense-attorney-effect, I'll call him by his first name, Hollis) - was minding his business in his apartment, with some buddies... and some drugs (weed and cocaine, in small amount, to be exact). The police were in his building, on unrelated business (chasing an alleged drug dealer, actually), and noticed the odor of burning cannabis coming from his apartment (uh, apparently someone forgot the towel under the door crack, hello???). So, the police knock, hear "noises that might indicate evidence is being destroyed" (could it be the infamously and poorly-timed toilet flush???) and knock his door down. You can guess the rest - but it didnt end so well for poor Hollis.
So, what? Well, the police did not have a warrant. In fact, they weren't even in the building for purposes of making contact with Hollis. But, under Kentucky law (and the same in Florida, I might add), if there's no warrant, the police can enter your home for "exigent circumstances" (some emergency -- like someone in danger, or evidence may be destroyed). Normally that is what the police are arguing in a toilet flush type case. HOWEVER - if the police create that emergency, they can't reap the benefits of it. In other words (hold on, because this is so circular, you may get dizzy), the police are arguing that they could hear what may be a person flushing evidence -- so if they wait to go and get a warrant, the evidence may be gone. But-- if they never would have knocked, you never would have known the police were there, and therefore never would have started flushing your drugs down the toilet -- and therefore, they can just go get their dang warrant.
Ok -- so, that's basically what the Kentucky Supreme Court found in Hollis' case: the police illegally entered into his apartment, violating his 4th amendment rights, and therefore making all evidence obtained inadmissible in court. The Supreme Court of the US, however, is being asked to reconsider that.
So, what does that mean?
Well, potentially, it could mean that an officer could break your door down if he smelled pot coming from your home... or, for people in my profession, more realistically, if he says he smells the odor of pot coming from your home. Relatively recently, the law changed to say that police could search a vehicle just for the odor of cannabis. After that, the number of officers who smelled the odor of cannabis in vehicles increased exponentially (in my experience, anyway). Many times, the odor of cannabis leads to the search of car where many things (some of them very illegal) are found... but none of them are cannabis. Interesting.
Ok, so I already have the lawyers (ok, criminal defense lawyers?) on my side. And I have those who may at times engage in illegal activities in their homes on my side. This is terrible.
But what about everyone else? How often do I hear the argument: who cares? If they're doing something illegal, they deserve whatever they get, and the police should do whatever they need to get that evidence.
Well, my friends, it's kind of like universal health care. You're against it until you need it.
In my line of work, I tend to hear about searches/seizures when they find something. But what about all of the times they dont? Is it ok with you that a police officer may be able to come into your homesweethome, without a warrant, without a reason, because they think they smell marijuana? because they think you are flushing drugs down the toilet (but maybe it's just diarrhea)?
Most troubling to me are the comments of the Honorable Justice Scalia, as he says with sarcasm, "taking advantage of the stupid criminals... that's terrible and unfair, isn't it"? Well... that is a pretty unfair thing to say, Justice Scalia (who, fyi, was appointed by President Ronald Reagan). I wonder, when do you figure was the last time Scalia was pulled over without reason, or his house was searched without a warrant?
(and for those of you who thought, "well maybe he doesnt commit crimes", I offer you this photo of the man we're talking about here):
(and for those of you who scoff at the idea of racial profiling and believe it doesn't exist, I hope you will someday invite me to your imaginary playland where puppies and rainbows occupy most of your time).
Anyway, to wrap this up: I take great issue with the disintegration of my Constitution, but obviously it directly affects my work. I just wish everyone understood how important it is for everyone to care about these issues -- perfectly-law-abiding or not. It is funny to me that many times those that harp on 2nd amendment rights (guns) and "patriotism" (with their own very limited definition of patriotism) are often the same people that laugh in the face of the 4th amendment (support it when you need it, universal healthcare, ahem). This is the Amendment that protects your home, your car, and even your body from invasion from the government - and hellooooo - that's a very big deal! And a justice of the Supreme Court of the United States has the cajones to say (on the record) that he doesnt feel bad about a violation of those sacred rights because the person they protect is a criminal???
I digress. It's hard to stand on this soapbox for too long in six inch heels.
The only thing I have left to say... it would be really a shame if those awesome "Welcome" mats that say "Show me your warrant" should become outdated and meaningless. I mean... the joke is just too good.
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