Thursday, May 23, 2013
Traveling Man
Tomorrow night I'm taking the train to Quincy to visit my parents for the long weekend. It will give me an excellent opportunity to practice looking unfriendly and acting like I'm really into whatever I'm reading, as it is bound to be a packed train. I've also got a strategy whereby I allow my laptop bag to slip ever so slightly into the aisle seat's legroom, just enough to make the seat look undesirable without being enough to attract the ire of the conductors. Amtrak conductors fall into that category of people who do not have much power but still somehow have too much power; I have more than once heard them dress passengers down for seemingly minor infractions like putting feet on the seat and not being fast enough to display their tickets. I'm guessing you did not know that riding the train had a moral dimension.
Anyway, I'm guessing that I will actually feel more like posting that usual this weekend, given that my alternatives will likely be walking dogs and putting together puzzles with my parents. But if you don't hear from me, I am not dead -- I've just been kidnapped by elderly people and forced to watch Mythbusters.
Tomorrow night I'm taking the train to Quincy to visit my parents for the long weekend. It will give me an excellent opportunity to practice looking unfriendly and acting like I'm really into whatever I'm reading, as it is bound to be a packed train. I've also got a strategy whereby I allow my laptop bag to slip ever so slightly into the aisle seat's legroom, just enough to make the seat look undesirable without being enough to attract the ire of the conductors. Amtrak conductors fall into that category of people who do not have much power but still somehow have too much power; I have more than once heard them dress passengers down for seemingly minor infractions like putting feet on the seat and not being fast enough to display their tickets. I'm guessing you did not know that riding the train had a moral dimension.
Anyway, I'm guessing that I will actually feel more like posting that usual this weekend, given that my alternatives will likely be walking dogs and putting together puzzles with my parents. But if you don't hear from me, I am not dead -- I've just been kidnapped by elderly people and forced to watch Mythbusters.
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Amazing Travel Photos
I'm pretty sure Springfield is every bit as photogenic as Vienna, but I wasn't there for as long of a time, so you'll have to cut me some slack.
This is the capitol building. It's where they have government and stuff. I don't know why it looks so short and fat in this photo -- it must be some problem with the upload because it looks downright lanky on my phone. But I'm never one to judge based on body proportions, so I'm letting it go.
This is the Illinois Supreme Court building, where I had my oral argument. Yes, they have metered parking right out front. It's called access to justice, bitches.
By the way, security guards really love it when you start taking pictures of government buildings. It's tough love, sure, but I'm pretty sure there's love in there somewhere.
I'm pretty sure Springfield is every bit as photogenic as Vienna, but I wasn't there for as long of a time, so you'll have to cut me some slack.
This is the capitol building. It's where they have government and stuff. I don't know why it looks so short and fat in this photo -- it must be some problem with the upload because it looks downright lanky on my phone. But I'm never one to judge based on body proportions, so I'm letting it go.
This is the Illinois Supreme Court building, where I had my oral argument. Yes, they have metered parking right out front. It's called access to justice, bitches.
By the way, security guards really love it when you start taking pictures of government buildings. It's tough love, sure, but I'm pretty sure there's love in there somewhere.
Sunday, May 19, 2013
Excused Absences
I haven't posted in almost a week, but it's totally okay, because I am busy and important. I had an argument before the Illinois Supreme Court this week! It was amazing, and not just because I got to drive a Mazda 2 with no cruise control down to Springfield. They're like the nicest court in the world and they asked good questions and really seemed to listen to the answers. Also their courtroom is, like, super pretty. Oh, and I stayed at the Hilton, where I got a free cookie at check in. Chocolate chip. That's going to be pretty hard to top.
In bright scheduling ideas, I had to go to a three-hour Shakespeare play immediately upon my return to Chicago. Henry VIII. I enjoyed it pretty well, although I think I was probably so tired that I was hallucinating through parts of it. Henry VIII doesn't actually ride on a dinosaur, does he?
Thursday was our support staff appreciation lunch. Which is a little weird in a government job where the support staff is unionized and makes as much as or more than the attorneys. But I am all about appreciation, not to mention that I am generally expected to bring the small talk. Topics covered included the weather, everyone's children, and travel plans past and future.
And then I also did some drinking. It has been my experience that beautiful weather invariably leads to the ingestion of tallboys on the roof. It's just science; I see no reason to fight it.
I haven't posted in almost a week, but it's totally okay, because I am busy and important. I had an argument before the Illinois Supreme Court this week! It was amazing, and not just because I got to drive a Mazda 2 with no cruise control down to Springfield. They're like the nicest court in the world and they asked good questions and really seemed to listen to the answers. Also their courtroom is, like, super pretty. Oh, and I stayed at the Hilton, where I got a free cookie at check in. Chocolate chip. That's going to be pretty hard to top.
In bright scheduling ideas, I had to go to a three-hour Shakespeare play immediately upon my return to Chicago. Henry VIII. I enjoyed it pretty well, although I think I was probably so tired that I was hallucinating through parts of it. Henry VIII doesn't actually ride on a dinosaur, does he?
Thursday was our support staff appreciation lunch. Which is a little weird in a government job where the support staff is unionized and makes as much as or more than the attorneys. But I am all about appreciation, not to mention that I am generally expected to bring the small talk. Topics covered included the weather, everyone's children, and travel plans past and future.
And then I also did some drinking. It has been my experience that beautiful weather invariably leads to the ingestion of tallboys on the roof. It's just science; I see no reason to fight it.
Monday, May 13, 2013
How Did We Celebrate Mother's Day?
-- Guilt, recrimination.
-- Placing panicked calls to florists.
-- Listening to commentary on the neighbors' landscaping habits.
-- Playing Words With Friends with the phone on speaker.
-- Receiving visual reminders of a childhood's worth of awkward haircuts.
-- Being compared unfavorably to other people's children.
-- Answering pointed questions about our footwear.
-- Pretending to be interested in NCIS: Los Angeles.
-- Realizing we're too old for handmade gifts to be considered cute.
-- Eating dinner at 4 PM.
-- Recognizing that we are becoming our mothers.
-- Guilt, recrimination.
-- Placing panicked calls to florists.
-- Listening to commentary on the neighbors' landscaping habits.
-- Playing Words With Friends with the phone on speaker.
-- Receiving visual reminders of a childhood's worth of awkward haircuts.
-- Being compared unfavorably to other people's children.
-- Answering pointed questions about our footwear.
-- Pretending to be interested in NCIS: Los Angeles.
-- Realizing we're too old for handmade gifts to be considered cute.
-- Eating dinner at 4 PM.
-- Recognizing that we are becoming our mothers.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Committee Thinking
So I serve on a professional committee that shall remain nameless. (But the use of the word "professional" pretty much rules out the Itty Bitty Titty Committee, thank you very much.) It's something that I got roped into doing before I left the big firm, since I think I successfully said "no" a total of four times in the almost seven years I worked there, and two of those time I'm pretty sure involved turning down pie. Nowadays I don't know that I'd even be invited, because being someone they think they can get money out of seems to be part of the deal. But I'm on the committee, and I seem to be just minimally competent enough that I'm not going to get thrown off any time soon.
Anyway, by and large the committee is not much work and I don't mind it much, but sometimes the meetings just drive me batty. They're seriously just two hours of people sharing their many deep thoughts about the law and complaining about how the teleconference equipment doesn't work the way they think it should. There's a lot of people talking over other people while I just kind of sit there and try to look like I'm paying attention. Generally this involves putting my phone somewhere where it's not totally obvious that I'm playing with it. And I'm the youngest person in the room by about ten years, so I don't even have anyone to sit back and be sarcastic with. I write a lot of bitter tweets in my head.
I'm sure this is all good for my resume somehow, right?
So I serve on a professional committee that shall remain nameless. (But the use of the word "professional" pretty much rules out the Itty Bitty Titty Committee, thank you very much.) It's something that I got roped into doing before I left the big firm, since I think I successfully said "no" a total of four times in the almost seven years I worked there, and two of those time I'm pretty sure involved turning down pie. Nowadays I don't know that I'd even be invited, because being someone they think they can get money out of seems to be part of the deal. But I'm on the committee, and I seem to be just minimally competent enough that I'm not going to get thrown off any time soon.
Anyway, by and large the committee is not much work and I don't mind it much, but sometimes the meetings just drive me batty. They're seriously just two hours of people sharing their many deep thoughts about the law and complaining about how the teleconference equipment doesn't work the way they think it should. There's a lot of people talking over other people while I just kind of sit there and try to look like I'm paying attention. Generally this involves putting my phone somewhere where it's not totally obvious that I'm playing with it. And I'm the youngest person in the room by about ten years, so I don't even have anyone to sit back and be sarcastic with. I write a lot of bitter tweets in my head.
I'm sure this is all good for my resume somehow, right?
Friday, May 10, 2013
Light Reading
Today I received the following package in the mail from Restoration Hardware:
To be clear, it is five volumes of catalogues: Interiors, Outdoor & Garden, Objects of Curiosity, Tableware, and Small Spaces. I added my own volume, Vomit.
It contains things like "an important 1949 French library globe" ($179) and "a grand 19th century realist carved horse head" ($395). It features rugs that cost more than my car. Just holding it makes me feel like a worse person.
It filled up my entire mailbox. It was ominously labeled "Spring 2013." What am I to expect the Christmas edition will look like? Will it require a forklift?
I did not request it, let us be clear. I guess if you buy one bed from these folks you're on their list forever. I'm scared of these people. After these comments, I might end up finding a grand 19th century realist carved horse head in my bed.
Just by way of comparison, though:
I've heard rumors that Joyce was actually looking to branch out into catalogues.
Today I received the following package in the mail from Restoration Hardware:
To be clear, it is five volumes of catalogues: Interiors, Outdoor & Garden, Objects of Curiosity, Tableware, and Small Spaces. I added my own volume, Vomit.
It contains things like "an important 1949 French library globe" ($179) and "a grand 19th century realist carved horse head" ($395). It features rugs that cost more than my car. Just holding it makes me feel like a worse person.
It filled up my entire mailbox. It was ominously labeled "Spring 2013." What am I to expect the Christmas edition will look like? Will it require a forklift?
I did not request it, let us be clear. I guess if you buy one bed from these folks you're on their list forever. I'm scared of these people. After these comments, I might end up finding a grand 19th century realist carved horse head in my bed.
Just by way of comparison, though:
I've heard rumors that Joyce was actually looking to branch out into catalogues.
Tuesday, May 07, 2013
Required Reading
In case you didn't know from the giant pictures of Tobey Maguire transforming bus stops everywhere into chambers of horrors, there's a new film adaptation of The Great Gatsby coming out. I don't have especially high hopes for it, given that it comes from the man who made an Australia movie that made audiences long for the subtleties of Crocodile Dundee, but that's actually not my point right now. The other night we saw a commercial for the movie and one of my friends confessed that she had never actually read it. And not because she faked it with the Sparknotes like I did for the second half of Great Expectations, but jut because it was never assigned to her. I, meanwhile, had to read it three times, once in high school and twice in college. Not that I minded; I would rather read it ten times than The Faerie Queen once. But anyway, this led to an interesting discussion of what was required reading and what wasn't at our various schools. Gatsby was pretty popular all over, though perhaps not as hot as The Scarlet Letter. There was a lot of Shakespeare, particularly Romeo and Juliet and Julius Caesar. I was surprised that The Red Badge of Courage didn't do that well, though, and neither did your major Faulkner novels. ("A Rose For Emily" seems safe among short stories, though, along with "The Lottery" and "The Most Dangerous Game.") And a lot of people were forced to read The Lord of the Flies, which I was not, and to date have really only sort of perused. I feel like I kind of get the point on that one, I guess.
Anyway, one of my friends kept referencing "this one where this guy's on a jury, and he has a briefcase." She couldn't remember the name. I offered Twelve Angry Men, of course, but was declined. I tried To Kill a Mockingbird, because I knew there was at least a jury in that one, but that was rejected as well. I offered Inherit The Wind and, becoming a bit more desperate, a bunch of John Grisham titles. No dice. A lot of googling followed, but "book jury briefcase" surprisingly yielded few results. So as a desperation play, I started to just kind of describe the plot of Twelve Angry Men.
"Oh yeah," she said. "I think that's it. I guess I just didn't know what Twelve Angry Men was."
Anyway, the night ended with me pulling out my Norton Anthology, which in any sensible person's book is the very definition of a wild evening.
In case you didn't know from the giant pictures of Tobey Maguire transforming bus stops everywhere into chambers of horrors, there's a new film adaptation of The Great Gatsby coming out. I don't have especially high hopes for it, given that it comes from the man who made an Australia movie that made audiences long for the subtleties of Crocodile Dundee, but that's actually not my point right now. The other night we saw a commercial for the movie and one of my friends confessed that she had never actually read it. And not because she faked it with the Sparknotes like I did for the second half of Great Expectations, but jut because it was never assigned to her. I, meanwhile, had to read it three times, once in high school and twice in college. Not that I minded; I would rather read it ten times than The Faerie Queen once. But anyway, this led to an interesting discussion of what was required reading and what wasn't at our various schools. Gatsby was pretty popular all over, though perhaps not as hot as The Scarlet Letter. There was a lot of Shakespeare, particularly Romeo and Juliet and Julius Caesar. I was surprised that The Red Badge of Courage didn't do that well, though, and neither did your major Faulkner novels. ("A Rose For Emily" seems safe among short stories, though, along with "The Lottery" and "The Most Dangerous Game.") And a lot of people were forced to read The Lord of the Flies, which I was not, and to date have really only sort of perused. I feel like I kind of get the point on that one, I guess.
Anyway, one of my friends kept referencing "this one where this guy's on a jury, and he has a briefcase." She couldn't remember the name. I offered Twelve Angry Men, of course, but was declined. I tried To Kill a Mockingbird, because I knew there was at least a jury in that one, but that was rejected as well. I offered Inherit The Wind and, becoming a bit more desperate, a bunch of John Grisham titles. No dice. A lot of googling followed, but "book jury briefcase" surprisingly yielded few results. So as a desperation play, I started to just kind of describe the plot of Twelve Angry Men.
"Oh yeah," she said. "I think that's it. I guess I just didn't know what Twelve Angry Men was."
Anyway, the night ended with me pulling out my Norton Anthology, which in any sensible person's book is the very definition of a wild evening.
Sunday, May 05, 2013
Here's the Pitch...
So I saw Pitch Perfect last night. It was all right. Given all of the hyperventilation surrounding it (I'm looking at you, Entertainment Weekly), I sort of expected it to be the greatest cinematic achievement since the advent of the talkies, but it was just mildly pleasant and likable. I have to admit that I was hampered somewhat by the fact that I have a general aversion to a cappella groups, stemming partially from their tendency towards the cutesy (look, I'm making percussion noises with my mouth!) and the pun-filled. Also from the fact that some a cappella singers I have encountered place the importance of what they do right up there with performing brain surgery and exposing human trafficking, but who's counting? Anyway, the movie did succeed by and large in making a cappella singers seem funny and entertaining as opposed to annoying and frightening, which was good. And some of the jams were actually pretty sick. I'm somewhat troubled by Anna Kendrick, specifically her mouth size and placement, and Brittany Snow to me has no particular reason for being, but I did enjoy Rebel Wilson, although not as much as she seems to have enjoyed herself. The guys were sort of nondescript, as evidenced by the fact that I am not particularly able to describe them. And there were lots of things that the script sort of threw out there and then didn't particularly know what to do with, such as daddy issues and homoerotic subtext. But generally it was entertaining, so I'm not complaining. My other Netflix disc right now is Inherit the Wind, by way of comparison. Expect a report on that one in approximately two years.
So I saw Pitch Perfect last night. It was all right. Given all of the hyperventilation surrounding it (I'm looking at you, Entertainment Weekly), I sort of expected it to be the greatest cinematic achievement since the advent of the talkies, but it was just mildly pleasant and likable. I have to admit that I was hampered somewhat by the fact that I have a general aversion to a cappella groups, stemming partially from their tendency towards the cutesy (look, I'm making percussion noises with my mouth!) and the pun-filled. Also from the fact that some a cappella singers I have encountered place the importance of what they do right up there with performing brain surgery and exposing human trafficking, but who's counting? Anyway, the movie did succeed by and large in making a cappella singers seem funny and entertaining as opposed to annoying and frightening, which was good. And some of the jams were actually pretty sick. I'm somewhat troubled by Anna Kendrick, specifically her mouth size and placement, and Brittany Snow to me has no particular reason for being, but I did enjoy Rebel Wilson, although not as much as she seems to have enjoyed herself. The guys were sort of nondescript, as evidenced by the fact that I am not particularly able to describe them. And there were lots of things that the script sort of threw out there and then didn't particularly know what to do with, such as daddy issues and homoerotic subtext. But generally it was entertaining, so I'm not complaining. My other Netflix disc right now is Inherit the Wind, by way of comparison. Expect a report on that one in approximately two years.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Sub Sandwich
One of the things I've really enjoyed about my kickboxing classes over the past few years is the panoply of awkward substitute teachers. My experience of subs growing up was that they were generally credulous elderly people who just wanted to put in a video tape and be left alone. But this is different, as they actually have to do something. Very few people attend a kickboxing class to play hangman and lie about whether there was a homework assignment due.
My favorite is the emotionally needy sub, who constantly asks how she is doing. No one ever responds. (Note to fitness instructors generally: no one particularly wants to chat while they're doing squat thrusts.) Her pleas become more and more intense as the class proceeds until I fear there may be tears. Then there is "the chatty one:"
"Hey, guys. Happy Monday! Did everyone have a good weekend?"
(No response.)
"Well, I had a good weekend. Great weather, huh?"
(No response.)
"Okay, so are you guys ready to go hard here?"
(No response.)
"All right, well let's do it!"
And then there's the one who occasionally yells "freestyle" in the middle of class. I can assure you that I speak for everyone when I say that we have no idea what that means.
See, fitness is fun! Aside from the actual fitness part.
One of the things I've really enjoyed about my kickboxing classes over the past few years is the panoply of awkward substitute teachers. My experience of subs growing up was that they were generally credulous elderly people who just wanted to put in a video tape and be left alone. But this is different, as they actually have to do something. Very few people attend a kickboxing class to play hangman and lie about whether there was a homework assignment due.
My favorite is the emotionally needy sub, who constantly asks how she is doing. No one ever responds. (Note to fitness instructors generally: no one particularly wants to chat while they're doing squat thrusts.) Her pleas become more and more intense as the class proceeds until I fear there may be tears. Then there is "the chatty one:"
"Hey, guys. Happy Monday! Did everyone have a good weekend?"
(No response.)
"Well, I had a good weekend. Great weather, huh?"
(No response.)
"Okay, so are you guys ready to go hard here?"
(No response.)
"All right, well let's do it!"
And then there's the one who occasionally yells "freestyle" in the middle of class. I can assure you that I speak for everyone when I say that we have no idea what that means.
See, fitness is fun! Aside from the actual fitness part.
Monday, April 29, 2013
Pictures at an Exhibition
We went to see the Picasso exhibit at the Art Institute this weekend. We had waited a couple of months to go in hopes that it wouldn't be as crowded, but boy was that plan a bust. It was pretty much wall-to-wall people inside the gallery, which meant that mainly I saw the back of people's heads as they milled around and stood in front of the artwork. I'm actually thinking about doing my own series of paintings of people standing in front of paintings. Or in front of episodes of TV's Army Wives, I can't decide. They're all masterpieces in their own way.
Anyway, due to the crowding, I didn't have an especially fantastic time at the exhibit, but I did pick up some interesting tidbits, although typing the phrase "interesting tidbits" just made me throw up in my mouth a little bit. Did you know, for instance, that Picasso painted the Blue Guitarist over the top of a few other paintings he had done? I mean, not like a painting of the Muppets fornicating or anything, but still, that's kind of weird. And then apparently there was originally a third person in the composition of his Mother & Child, but he literally cut the guy out and painted over his arm. I'm guessing they got into a fight on Facebook or something and Pablo got pissed. But all this information was obtained by x-raying the paintings, so I'm definitely going to take my Edward Hopper poster in to the ER to see if maybe there's a Monet water lilies under the surface or something. This could be my chance to get rich quick.
We went to see the Picasso exhibit at the Art Institute this weekend. We had waited a couple of months to go in hopes that it wouldn't be as crowded, but boy was that plan a bust. It was pretty much wall-to-wall people inside the gallery, which meant that mainly I saw the back of people's heads as they milled around and stood in front of the artwork. I'm actually thinking about doing my own series of paintings of people standing in front of paintings. Or in front of episodes of TV's Army Wives, I can't decide. They're all masterpieces in their own way.
Anyway, due to the crowding, I didn't have an especially fantastic time at the exhibit, but I did pick up some interesting tidbits, although typing the phrase "interesting tidbits" just made me throw up in my mouth a little bit. Did you know, for instance, that Picasso painted the Blue Guitarist over the top of a few other paintings he had done? I mean, not like a painting of the Muppets fornicating or anything, but still, that's kind of weird. And then apparently there was originally a third person in the composition of his Mother & Child, but he literally cut the guy out and painted over his arm. I'm guessing they got into a fight on Facebook or something and Pablo got pissed. But all this information was obtained by x-raying the paintings, so I'm definitely going to take my Edward Hopper poster in to the ER to see if maybe there's a Monet water lilies under the surface or something. This could be my chance to get rich quick.
Saturday, April 27, 2013
Explanations
I meant to blog Thursday night, but I may or may not have gotten buzzed off of a total of two (2) margaritas, come home, thrown two packs of gum on the floor, and drifted gently off into sleep. I'm not presenting this as interesting; I just thought I'd be honest about what really happened.
I was pretty tired because, as it turns out, Naperville is exhausting. Thanks to traffic, I had to leave an hour and a half to get there each day, which meant some pretty early mornings. And no matter how long I sleep, if I get up before seven, I'm pretty much useless. I had four Diet Cokes before noon and I was still speaking in sentence fragments.
The continuing legal education program was pretty good. There was a session with appellate court judges clowning on one another, which was fairly entertaining, sort of like a Real Housewives reunion show. They also did a program where the instructor showed clips of people's actual appellate arguments and made fun of them. Imagine if Joan Rivers were 35 and a human being. But two days is a lot of CLE; it's hard for me to imagine doing anything for two days straight without liquor being involved.
And thus we come full circle.
I meant to blog Thursday night, but I may or may not have gotten buzzed off of a total of two (2) margaritas, come home, thrown two packs of gum on the floor, and drifted gently off into sleep. I'm not presenting this as interesting; I just thought I'd be honest about what really happened.
I was pretty tired because, as it turns out, Naperville is exhausting. Thanks to traffic, I had to leave an hour and a half to get there each day, which meant some pretty early mornings. And no matter how long I sleep, if I get up before seven, I'm pretty much useless. I had four Diet Cokes before noon and I was still speaking in sentence fragments.
The continuing legal education program was pretty good. There was a session with appellate court judges clowning on one another, which was fairly entertaining, sort of like a Real Housewives reunion show. They also did a program where the instructor showed clips of people's actual appellate arguments and made fun of them. Imagine if Joan Rivers were 35 and a human being. But two days is a lot of CLE; it's hard for me to imagine doing anything for two days straight without liquor being involved.
And thus we come full circle.
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Happenings
Due to what I can only assume is a clerical error, I have somehow signed myself up to attend a training program in Naperville all day tomorrow. Starting at 8 AM. What are the chances that I'm going to totally love leaving my house at 6:30 to drive there? It is going to take a lot of Diet Coke and Kelly Clarkson to keep me awake for that drive. And then: who will I sit with at lunch? It's obviously very important to me that I be perceived as popular in the appellate advocacy world. Maybe I should pretend to be best friends with Clarence Thomas or something. We do have a mutual friend in Long Dong Silver.
In other news, ABC Family has begun making "original musicals" and they are ridiculous. The one that debuted Sunday night featured an unrecognizable Jane Seymour and more former Lifetime movie stars than you could shake a strong, proud female stick at. Also an extended song and dance sequence at an airport. Because I know that Homeland Security always makes me want to make some joyful noise.
Due to what I can only assume is a clerical error, I have somehow signed myself up to attend a training program in Naperville all day tomorrow. Starting at 8 AM. What are the chances that I'm going to totally love leaving my house at 6:30 to drive there? It is going to take a lot of Diet Coke and Kelly Clarkson to keep me awake for that drive. And then: who will I sit with at lunch? It's obviously very important to me that I be perceived as popular in the appellate advocacy world. Maybe I should pretend to be best friends with Clarence Thomas or something. We do have a mutual friend in Long Dong Silver.
In other news, ABC Family has begun making "original musicals" and they are ridiculous. The one that debuted Sunday night featured an unrecognizable Jane Seymour and more former Lifetime movie stars than you could shake a strong, proud female stick at. Also an extended song and dance sequence at an airport. Because I know that Homeland Security always makes me want to make some joyful noise.
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Current Events
I have to say that this was a really bad week to have half of the internet blocked at your workplace. As events unfolded on Monday, I was dying to pop onto Facebook to make sure that my friends in Boston were okay (they were), but social networking sites are pretty much the antichrist to internet filters. And then on Friday, after waking up and discovering that the Internet had exploded from overnight coverage of a crazy dramatic standoff that seemed to have been directed by Jerry Bruckheimer, I really wanted to watch live coverage of the standoff, but any streaming media are of course strictly verboten. And so I had to force myself to concentrate on briefing juvenile sentencing issues, when all I wanted to do was gape at nothing in particular happening on cable television with everyone else.
I did get my wish, of course, when I got home, and it was, of course, disappointing. Given all of the reporting of half-truths and outright misconceptions this week, I'm still not sure that I understand all the facts of what actually happened this week. (I think a dark-skinned Saudi Arabian set a fire at the Kennedy Library while robbing a 7-11, but that could be wrong.) And the big thing that everyone wants to understand -- the why -- is the one thing that we may perhaps never fully know. But it was kind of fun to watch anchors contradict and talk over one another as they tried to balance the various bits of non information they were receiving. Television at its finest.
I have to say that this was a really bad week to have half of the internet blocked at your workplace. As events unfolded on Monday, I was dying to pop onto Facebook to make sure that my friends in Boston were okay (they were), but social networking sites are pretty much the antichrist to internet filters. And then on Friday, after waking up and discovering that the Internet had exploded from overnight coverage of a crazy dramatic standoff that seemed to have been directed by Jerry Bruckheimer, I really wanted to watch live coverage of the standoff, but any streaming media are of course strictly verboten. And so I had to force myself to concentrate on briefing juvenile sentencing issues, when all I wanted to do was gape at nothing in particular happening on cable television with everyone else.
I did get my wish, of course, when I got home, and it was, of course, disappointing. Given all of the reporting of half-truths and outright misconceptions this week, I'm still not sure that I understand all the facts of what actually happened this week. (I think a dark-skinned Saudi Arabian set a fire at the Kennedy Library while robbing a 7-11, but that could be wrong.) And the big thing that everyone wants to understand -- the why -- is the one thing that we may perhaps never fully know. But it was kind of fun to watch anchors contradict and talk over one another as they tried to balance the various bits of non information they were receiving. Television at its finest.
Thursday, April 18, 2013
Elevating the Level of Discourse Since 2013
For those of you who didn't have to make small talk with coworkers today, just a heads up that there was a lot of rain this morning. Streets flooded, people got cranky, and apparently there was some sort of poop geyser up on the north side. And I got jammed into a red line car with eighty of my closest friends. Which was when some lady decided to provoke the crazy homeless person on board by insisting that she be allowed to sit down next to him, leading to a torrent of profanities. I'll try to reproduce the dialogue below, but replace the naughty words with nice words that start with the same letter.
"You friendly cookie, why you got to fudgesickle crowd me? Get the fondue out of here, Beyoncé!"
"I'm just trying to sit down, sir. Everybody got to sit down sometimes."
"You stupid nougat pussycat! I don't need you in my french fried business. Go to fantastic hot dog."
"God bless you, sir. God loves you and so do I."
"I don't love your great doggie pussycat! I oughta kick your funtimes Arby's."
"Oh, go ahead, sir. I'd love to see it."
"I would, but there's too many fantastic witnesses. You ain't worth it."
"Uh huh. All talk. You're all talk."
"Freedom you, banana."
It continued on like this for some time. Really, my biggest regret is that David Mamet wasn't there to take it all down.
For those of you who didn't have to make small talk with coworkers today, just a heads up that there was a lot of rain this morning. Streets flooded, people got cranky, and apparently there was some sort of poop geyser up on the north side. And I got jammed into a red line car with eighty of my closest friends. Which was when some lady decided to provoke the crazy homeless person on board by insisting that she be allowed to sit down next to him, leading to a torrent of profanities. I'll try to reproduce the dialogue below, but replace the naughty words with nice words that start with the same letter.
"You friendly cookie, why you got to fudgesickle crowd me? Get the fondue out of here, Beyoncé!"
"I'm just trying to sit down, sir. Everybody got to sit down sometimes."
"You stupid nougat pussycat! I don't need you in my french fried business. Go to fantastic hot dog."
"God bless you, sir. God loves you and so do I."
"I don't love your great doggie pussycat! I oughta kick your funtimes Arby's."
"Oh, go ahead, sir. I'd love to see it."
"I would, but there's too many fantastic witnesses. You ain't worth it."
"Uh huh. All talk. You're all talk."
"Freedom you, banana."
It continued on like this for some time. Really, my biggest regret is that David Mamet wasn't there to take it all down.
