Friday, September 29, 2006

Kapow! Shazaaaaam! Holy Roman Candles Batman!

I am so depressed about this article from the NY Times - In Tiny Courts of N.Y., Abuses of Law and Power - that I will give you just a few choice quotes before something else.

After a black soldier was upset about being called "that colored man" by a witness, Judge Pennington said it was ok, because “I mean, to me,” he testified, colored doesn’t preferably mean black. It could be an Indian, who’s red. It could be Chinese, who’s considered yellow.” Or a Simpson, obviously.

Justice Kadur heard a speeding case against her son in her own kitchen, then tried to cover up their family relationship in record books, the commission said, by misspelling his last name.

Justice Ralph T. Romano: Arraigning a man in 1997 on charges that he had hit his wife in the face with a telephone, he laughed and asked, “What was wrong with this?” Arraigning a woman on charges that she had sexually abused a 12-year-old boy, the justice asked his courtroom, “Where were girls like this when I was 12?”

A woman in Malone, N.Y., was not amused. A mother of four, she went to court in that North Country village seeking an order of protection against her husband, who the police said had choked her, kicked her in the stomach and threatened to kill her. The justice, Donald R. Roberts, a former state trooper with a high school diploma, not only refused, according to state officials, but later told the court clerk, “Every woman needs a good pounding every now and then.”


So let's see my fireworks photos instead!

Phew. Much better.

Thursday, September 28, 2006

Spinderella cut it up one time

I shall go to the ball.

Going to the Fordham Centennial Gala tonight - huzzzzzzah! We've hired out Ellis Island for this minor shindig... So excited!

Just wish I weren't so spotty, hadn't mashed up both my feet with football practice (yes, my own fault for toe-poking), so so so tired (six hours' sleep not enough), and had legs that are so unwilling to walk about right now... ugh. Revolting. Sorry.

Pat Buchanan, incidentally, is a bad human being. He was utterly offensive, unapologetic, and, essentially, insane. Remember your forbears, Mr Buchanan. Hmm, I wonder where that name comes from?

I really think the major problem is this mass of language and colour of the skin of the people entering. They, the (other) Americans entering are able to speak in a language that none of True Americans Can Possibly Understand and are brown. Honestly, this is it. Italians = not so much; Irish = both white and English-speaking.

Never mind that the crops have been failing in California this year due to lack of workers.

Happened in Costa Rica, too.

Both countries desperately trying to prevent immigrants entering. Trying to get them out of here.

Both utterly dependent on them. How embarrassing for them to be dependent on the aliens. Much like the Scientologists.

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Makes you wonder...

I went to a lunchtime talk today which was one of the most amazing, inspiring things I have experienced. We had Simone Monasabien in today - a woman who has been a prosecutor in the ICTR and a defender in the Special Court of Sierra Leone. It was utterly humbling and astonishing. And a reminder of just how brutal the massacre was in Rwanda. Brutal. It's a horrible metaphor, but one that is worth remembering, given we understand the numbers - between two and three 9/11 attacks every day for 100 days - that's between September 11th until 19th December. Seriously. With machetes.

It was particularly amazing to hear her talk about her forced rethink of free speech in light of how the radio was used to incite the genocide, and how the "West" campaigned for the release of a newspaper owner whose front cover featured a machete and words to the effect of "let's finish the overthrow of the Tutsis that we started in 1959". Given my Note topic - on free speech guarantees and international legislation and so forth in light of hate crime - it was a startling and timely reminder of just how difficult an issue this is.

It was... it's hard to explain.

Particularly when people then send you links to things like this comparison of newsweek covers. Do I need to say more?

Monday, September 25, 2006

Hazlo Ahora!

I should be writing my five page (minimum) outline for my class deadline tomorrow at midnight. Instead I am catching up on others' blogs (which are fabulous, as always). I should have learnt from my buffy-watching nightmare (which definitely contributed to the late night working) but no, alas, not. But I did go to bookclub - how exactly is that working? Not sure. Those of you who were following my progress with baited breath and excitement will, I am sure, be pleased to know that I ended up choosing Notes on a Scandal, that glorious work by the fabulous Zoe Heller.

You know what? I've already written thirteen pages for my NTP last week - this should be easier.

But I will say that the beloved other half may have a secret/double life - he received a magazine/catalogue today for Stoelting - "The Source for Physiology Instruments". Yikes. What was he up to in Utah?

DC at the weekend was grand, with useful advice from my very dear friend KS, who helped me out a lot in terms of the whole how to choose someone to work for... So that was grand. And if people could stop having birthdays I will be very happy indeed - honestly, how is a girl supposed to watch everything on her DVR? First two of that Matthew Perry thing, Grey's, The Office, My Name is Earl - not seen ANY OF THEM YET. Bugger.

Friday, September 22, 2006

... or nominate?

Why on earth does my stoooopid blog insist it's two hours earlier than it actually is? The one night I stay up late to work, and it flaming well looks like I was fibbing.


Still, am in a hotel with the GOP Member Conference. Ideologies = perfectly aligned, particularly for grumpy grace with no sleep.

AND I missed 2md AND Grey's last night and The Office, which I have been persuaded I should start watching, and brand new My Name Is Earl.


But now at least I can send my deliciously dreadful NTP off.


And I shall try to fix everything else - including the time thingymijiggy.


I have been up for what seems like a very long time, because I actually managed to wake up before seven this morning to go and play footie (which was fabulous except I now have a weirdly brown toe joint - revolting) and I have just finished, at 1.10am, writing my note topic proposal. Not that it's done, or any good, but I feel I can revise it tomorrow and have something that's not going to be hideously embarrassing to hand in. Although fairly so.

So therefore I missed 2manydjs. I am gutted.

I also have to be up EARLY in the maƱana to get shirt ironed and suitcase packed and me down to DC.


or, rather, ugh for the earliness/packing business.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Alright, hear this

Yesterday was a very, very good day. For various reasons, most pointless in terms of sharing. But grand.

Today has been less hot.

It started off well - I used my GLORIOUS new coffee maker, which I love. But somehow, at lunch, while clearing up my machine, I managed to delete EVERY APPLICATION I HAD. Then I found out that simply buying the cover for an ibook doesn't actually give you cover - you have to "enroll" it.


Still, now fixed thanks to Jody at Apple, thank you very much indeed!

AND I am an internet-published author! My work for CEFEMINA is now online, which I am very, very happy about. So the day has improved.


Still. Technology scares me.


Nick Laham/Getty Images from the NY Times.

Yayayayayayay! The Mets finally win, so this is the frivolous edition. Hence an article link about those roller shoe things that all the kids are wearing and I really, really want - and this guy too, tried the adult version.

The rocking KTB put me onto this website, which I am loving this morning with the whole Fergie thing. And it's particularly apt, as this weekend I found out that I have no idea how you take crystal meth - and nor do my friends. Which is a good sign, obviously, because none of us will get meth mouth*, but means we are definitely getting old. It turns out all our guesses -smoking, injecting, snorting - were all right. How exciting.

* Please do not look at this on a vaguely queasy/hungover stomach.

Sunday, September 17, 2006


The title of this blog was something that I realised I'd very rarely actually seen written down, and couldn't remember how to spell. Disappointing, and means I'm definitely not entering the drunken spelling bee in williamsburg any time soon.

Anyway, the point was, before my cerebral meltdown, that my life has not been what it normally should be over the last couple of weeks; my routine has not sailed its normal course. I know that particularly because I only listened to forty songs through my computer, according to what I scrobbled this week. This is ridiculous. I would like my life to return to my having some semblance of control over it. At the moment, instead, it feels as I'm clinging onto a piece of flotsam whilst giant waves crash around me and take me where they want to go. Which is about as poetic and expressive as I get. Which is not very, I appreciate.

Luckily, salvation has come in the form of PG Wodehouse - as Mr Christopher Buckley has so aptly said, It is impossible to be unhappy while reading the adventures of Jeeves and Wooster. And I've tried.

Saturday, September 16, 2006


Thanks to all the suggestions for dealing with Derek/Mookey's crazy ex - I believe the most common has been some variant on water bombs/hoses/glasses of water. Luckily that didn't have to be addressed last night, but I'll be prepared from now on.

I have realised that I haven't yet shared my own hollaback-style experience from a week or so ago. In fact, just over a week ago when I went to collect my parcels from Fedex. I was wearing a skirt suit, which was stupid because they always ride up - seriously, if you know how to prevent this, I'd love to hear from you - and I went to collect the beautiful beautiful machines. On the way down the street, got the obligatory whistles/unintelligible comments from males lazing around doing nothing. Then, on the way back, carrying more boxes and weight than really sensible/possible, I got more and more. It was in Spanish - because it was safe? That I wouldn't understand? Just general stuff, but I was tired, hot, grumpy, and wondering how on earth to get home with things that were (as it felt at the time) the same bodyweight as me. And I think that's what really made me annoyed - I was clearly struggling and clearly not supposed to understand the general comments on my legs/tits/arse. So, I turned round, looked at them, and told them to, well, go and have intercourse with themselves. In Spanish, obviously. And you know what? IT WORKED. I am normally a fan of non-aggressive solutions, but when people are being rude to you in a language you're not supposed to understand, sometimes the shock factor is helpful.

Yay me.

Wish I'd taken a photo, but as my arms were full, I'm sure you'll understand.

Friday, September 15, 2006

What has Derek ever done for you?

I go on about how great my neighbours are, but I don't actually know many of them outside my stairwell. Which is why I don't know who this "Derek" guy is, but when I find out, I may have to have a word about his lothario ways and effects on women. Because for the last two nights, we've been woken up in the middle of the night by a woman coming to scream "Derek... you got your ho up there? You got her there?" Last night she did it on three separate occasions.

That must be some loving from Derek. Or Mookey, if Mark's right about what she's yelling.

Unfortunately, I'm not interested in that. I'd just like an uninterrupted night's sleep.

Sunday, September 10, 2006

Culcha - September 2006

This week I have...

Seen Little Miss Sunshine which, despite the protestations of the gentleman behind me FOUR TIMES IN A MINUTE that it was "just one step too contrived for me" (and as JKS pointed out, surely that's four steps?), was utterly enchanting. Sweet, funny, and everyone in it - absolutely everyone - was wonderful. The girl, Olive, was a delight, Steve Carrell was fabulous, Alan Arkin is always class, Greg Kinnear is becoming one of my favourite actors (particularly after The Matador which I urge you all to see - here, I've even found the Netflix link for you). And Toni Collette is just wonderful, always. Not that I'm going to see that horrific looking thing with Cameron Diaz, but still.

I am reading Waiting for Snow in Havana, a memoir of an extremely privileged childhood in Cuba before the Revolution and the author being sent to the US. I am enjoying it thus far, but I must confess, I was (and remain) wary. It's for bookclub, and I didn't want to find myself in the tricky position that Cuba always seems to provoke for me. With the lefty liberals at home in Britain who seem to think it's paradise, a wondrously brave country for defying the US, I find myself pointing out that it is a dictatorship and the whole putting gay people in prison business and censorship/limited access to the internet is not something I support. Then, when I talk to people here, I find myself compelled to point out that at least everyone in that country can read and have access to medical attention, plus they provide a great bulk of the doctors in Africa, which is a vital part of the health system there. It's thorny, make no mistake.

I am listening to, mostly, No More Shall We Part, which I have due to my dear friend Lolamonster. It's old, I know, and I got it ages ago. But I have become a woman obsessed. It's amazing. Utterly amazing. Tragic, beautiful, passionate, melodramatic, gentle... it's just wonderful. Wonderful. I have trouble finding something else I want to listen to more, which is a sign of an addiction.

I have removed Snood from my computer, too, which has been a very very very good move.

I am very excited about the imminent return of Grey's Anatomy, although haven't managed to watch the newest House yet, which is poor, it must be said. Also will try The Office US style, and looking forward to the new Matthew Perry outing, Studio 60. Yay for dvr!!!!

Saturday, September 09, 2006


Seriously, George, how much are they paying you to advertise gnat's piss? Ye gods, man.

So disappointed in you.

However, can't be grumpy - my coffee making machine is BEAUTIFUL. The question is, will I ever make a cappuccino? Doubtful.

Football started this morning for the Tigers, and despite a loss, I got back into the groove of things (having had a HORRIBLE first ten minutes) after a rather crunching tackle which reminded me just how much fun this all really is. I think, as I've said before, it's dreadful that so few women play competitive sport. It can be hard, of course, but it's so much fun, can be incredibly supportive and is so good for your health. And soul.

Speaking of good for your soul, when I was grumping about Mr. Clooney, I happened upon this picture.




Relish it.

Friday, September 08, 2006


Occasionally, law school is rocking. For example, just by using a database every day, I now am the owner of this rather fabulous kitchenaid processor and also a coffee making machine. And all for the price of $14 - a cab ride home from the UPS depot.

Oh, and of course, the $36,000 a year tuition.

Still, grab what free stuff you can get, I say.

Thursday, September 07, 2006


I have been very, very non-internet using over the last few days.

It's as if a piece of me is missing.

Well, I have used the internet, but for important stuff - checking assignments, downloading reading for class, emailing important things instead of just trawling gawker and the guardian for things to send to my friends. It's ridiculous and MUST STOP NOW.


Friday, September 01, 2006

Room 101

Today was an interesting experience, to say the least. I'm trying to turn it into a positive one, although struggling, to be honest with you. I went to the Department of Motor Vehicles in Herald Square to get a state ID so that I don't have to lug my passport round with me as proof of my MANY years above the legal drinking age. I turned up, and was immediately rejected and sent back to Social Security because the office I'd been to (which I'd been raving about because it was so quick and empty) had used a photocopied form, and that wasn't acceptable.

No, I'm not joking.

And yes, I nearly cried.

Particularly when I realised I'd have to walk through Times Square to get to the SS Office, which, as you may know, is NOT my favourite place in the Big Apple.

And then when the kindly security guard told me that I would have to wait around TWO HOURS for this letter.

So I sat, waited, tried to ignore the crazy people and the huffing woman next to me who could not stop bitching about how ridiculous the wait was. Yes, lady, that is the case, but you moaning about it is not going to change anything. How about you read the report I'm reading on the denial of women's property rights in Ghana and learn how really tough some people have it? EH? Ingrate.

Which leads me to the positive for today - gratitude that I speak the language, understand what's going on, and didn't have anything difficult to ask of Social Security. People were struggling with the bureaucracy, forms, everything. It's a nightmare. But the woman who served me was gloriously efficient and within a minute I had my letter.

So back to the DMV. Where the queue just to get the form you needed to fill in and find out which queue you had to go to next was OUT THE DOOR. Luckily, I had the form & knew the queue from this morning, so went (after mix up with the toilet queue) to stand in it. And stand I did for another hour (there having been a mere three people ahead of me this morning).

However, what also was positive - good people. The gentleman who took my documents and photo for me was sweet, cheery and helpful - which must take some effort on Friday afternoon at the DMV. I sat next to a lovely guy with his daughter who were sweet and loved talking about the World Cup. I stood in the queue with a guy trying to get his life back on track after prison and drugs problems and, other than his insistence that "black people have to talk like black people - I can't be doing with my people talking like they're white, that's fake" to which I mumbled something incoherent and awkward, he was sweet, friendly and funny. So that's a positive.

After sixteen hours without food (which for me MUST be some kind of record) I had a tostada black bean salad from Burrito Box.

Life is good. Particularly if you don't have to go anywhere near social security or the DMV.