After a Semester

So, Friday afternoon my last final ended, and almost for the first time since I got to LA, I had an extended amount of time where I didn't have to be somewhere, reading something, meeting someone, etc. All the brief times that I've had respite over the last four months, my head has been stuffed full of thinking about all the things I did have to go do. So, this is the first time that I've actually taken a deep breath, and thought about and realized what the hell I've been up to these months.

Holy SHIT, I moved to Los Angeles.

Last night, I was at a going away party for a friend I met through the No on Prop 8 campaign. He landed a job on Capitol Hill in DC--very great for him, very bittersweet for those of us here in LA who will miss him. I was talking to LT about him leaving, and it struck me that this felt very different from all the comings and goings that I've seen in LT's circle of friends, folks beginning to establish their lives coming out of college. In those cases, it's still sad, but it's expected and known. People go into the four years knowing that after they graduate, all bets are off.

It feels like such a different thing when you've been established in a permanent life somewhere. You don't meet people with an eye towards shipping off soon. You live there. It's home. You make strong friendships that become tested by time, joy and sadness. Then suddenly, either someone you know is packing up, or you are. If you're the one staying, it's the shock of cold water when you suddenly learn that a piece of your life is leaving. If you're the one going, it's a mixture of fear, excitement at whatever opportunity you're following, sadness, and....guilt. The self-deprecating side of me wants to say it's egotistical to feel that, but I do know that people miss me and, while happy for me, are sad that I'm so far away. And, when you know that you've made people you care about sad, well...in a way leaving feels like breaking some promise, some trust.

I want all you eastern people in my life to know that I really miss you all. I'm happy in school, and I know I made the right decision. I've met fantastic people out here, and begun making great friends. And I know that modern communication helps make distances seem smaller, and heck, I know that I never even lived in the same city as some of you anyhow. But, I also know, from knowing how much I miss you guys, that no amount of electronic gadgetry can completely erase the distance, or completely replace a breakfast, a toast, or a hug.

Huzzah!

Well, it finally happened -- 40 minutes ago I finished my last final of the semester, and the beginning of my law school career was officially in the books! I'm currently waiting for the bus, and thought I'd take this moment still within reach of UCLA's wireless to jot down a quick note.

It's funny, how stress builds up to a boiling point without you even realizing it, like the proverbial frog in water. I knew I had been feeling stress all semester, between school and the campaign, and I certainly knew that stress mounted as the semester wound down, between final papers, exams, and constantly dealing with fallout from the campaign, as well as attempting to piece together my own gender identity.

I definitely felt moments where the stress hit hard. Particularly, after my first final which I don't think I did very well on. Having your first final not go well is rough--I had a decent crisis of confidence, and momentarily became convinced that through the time spent on the campaign I had painted myself into an inescapable corner. I didn't regret that, but it was still hard feeling that way. I did eventually recover, and my last two finals went much better--I learned a lot about how to best prepare for an exam under sub-optimal conditions!

But, that one-day crisis aside, I didn't realize just how much stress and pressure had built up until after my last final. It was like the opposite of losing 50 pounds gradually, then suddenly hoisting a 50 lb. pack and realizing just how much weight you're not carrying around anymore. It gradually built up, insidious strain by insidious strain. Then suddenly....whoooosh! Freedom! I lost 50 lbs all over again!

Oh yeah, and I'm also surprised by the sense of accomplishment. I went along this whole time knowing in my head that law school is a tough thing, but not feeling like in and of itself it's a congratulatory event. The result-driven side of me thinks, "Well, congratulate me when we see how I did!" But regardless how I did, I do feel a significant sense of accomplishment. I still can't quite understand why, but it's nice!

And so, my task for this weekend is getting back in touch with all you beautiful folks who I have neglected for the last month, and planning my trip back east!

Things I've Learned During My First Law School Finals Period

- It's really cruel that the greatest learning resource and the greatest source of procrastination are found in the same place, namely your laptop.
- I work a lot better with headphones, rather than just music playing from speakers.
- I don't work at all if there's no noise.
- I don't regret the decisions I made through the course of the semester to work on the No on 8 campaign as much as I did.
- That being said, those decisions are probably going to affect my grades.
- When crunched for time, practice exams are way more important than memorizing more minutiae. Minutiae do you no good when you run out of time to write them down.
- The keycode to get into the bathroom at the Starbucks at Pico and Rimpeau is 1-2-3-4. Omar the barista told it to me.
- I'm eight years older than when I graduated from college, and I can't get away with hardly any sleep like I used to.
- This needing-to-sleep thing is VERY inconvenient.
- Sometimes, other people's past outlines just suck.
- Someone will look at my outline down the road and think it sucks.
- Buying the spring semester books during the fall semester finals period gives you first dibs on finding the used books in the best shape.
- This law school shit is hard!
- No matter how you feel about how you did on the exam, you have absolutely no way of knowing how your exam rates in the larger context of everyone else's exams.
- The Pens win if I listen to them online while I'm at the dining room table, but not if I listen to them online while I'm on the couch.
- Law school exams are the first time I've truly felt mentally hit by an A-bomb after a test.

Guest Speaker

Since I don't have time to talk on my own blog, I'm happy to step aside and let Jon Stewart take a guest turn.

The Daily Show With Jon StewartM - Th 11p / 10c

Mike Huckabee Pt. 2

Barack Obama Interview
John McCain Interview

Sarah Palin Video
Funny Election Video

Exam Tomorrow (Today?!)

Yeah, so - as the semester has wound down, the catchup I've played after the election has become increasingly more time consuming, as evidenced by the dwindling posts.

Tomorrow (technically later today, I guess!) is my first final, Crim. Happily I get to start off with the only closed-book final I have; nice to get it out of the way, but not so nice for my nerves.

It's funny though - through all the preparation, while I've been very busy and somewhat more stressed than usual, I haven't been nervous. Until this evening. This evening I definitely have been hit with a big case of the nerves, feeling unprepared, etc. etc. etc. It's kind of a funny feeling.

So, we'll see how it goes I guess!

Pitter Patter!

Two things finally happened this week: We finally submitted something which counts for a grade, and it finally actually rained.

It's been raining most of the evening and I'm absolutely ecstatic about it! I knew I'd missed weather, but actually getting some actually brought it home for real. I've been laying around for a while now doing nothing except listening to the sound of it falling outside. Ahhh.... I hope it's still rainy tomorrow morning; I would love a rainy morning. But, a rainy evening is almost as good.

And, thinking about all the oil from the last however many months that is being stirred up on the highways...makes me glad I got new tires on the car today!

The item-for-a-grade was a paper. Well, a memo. A faux legal memorandum in which we offer predictive analysis on a particular claim based on a set realm of case law. We've done two much smaller ones through the semester; of course those were much less angsty because, y'know, they didn't count, and before we turned in the final versions of them we had writing advisors help us fix big ugly problems. I must admit it's more nerve-wracking basing an entire analysis on the tests you've devised when you don't really know if your tests are correct!

Beyond the memo, things are rolling right along at school. Next Tuesday is the last day of classes, then our first final is the Tuesday after that. Fun fun fun!

Still Here

Yes, I haven't posted in forever. The few days after the election when I allowed myself time to breathe on account of needing to recover, the process of recovery pretty much took most of what I had, and little was left for blogging. Honestly, little was left to say.

Once I began to recover substantially to have something to say, I remembered I was in law school and said, "Oh, SHIT." And have since been playing catchup.

So don't expect a lot of posts in the next few weeks.

But some brief updates:
- School is frantic. I'm not too frantic, but I'm not the frantic type. I'm the CT version of frantic. Everyone else, however, is having an aneurysm, which amuses me, because they're all further ahead of me in terms of work progress.
- It's still 90 degrees here half the time.
- I miss snow, and Pittsburgh, and my east people. No urgent pining or catastrophic emotional breakdown, I just miss y'all.
- LT now lives in Fullerton, which is in Orange County, where at election time there were Yes on 8 signs HANGING FROM THE BLEEPING TREES. But the apartment is really nice, and Fullerton itself has a not-bad feel to it, and LT's daily routine gets to include a train. And of course, we are happy to be relatively together again.
- The cats are doing well.
- I can't believe the Penguins are still playing hockey without me.
- Skype rocks! (HI MT!!!)
- The Cali Supreme Court granted review to determine the validity of Prop 8 (it is being challenged on the grounds that it was too substantial of a change to have gone through the amendment process, and should have instead gone through the more stringent revision process). Deadlines for various briefs and responses stretch until January 21, and word is that the hearing will likely be in March, with the decision sometime after that.
- The Steelers got the first 11-10 final score in NFL history (MGGramskyGramboski!! Hi!!) but it was cheapened because the TD that was disallowed on the last play should have been counted. Either way they won. I'm happier with the oddball score, but betting folks aren't.

That is all.

Emotion Cocktail, Mostly Bad

Last night and this morning brought a ridiculous mix of emotions, not surprisingly. Also not surprisingly, most of them are negative. I'm happy that Obama won. I used to be ecstatic, but that was before other results started coming in. Driving to the No on 8 post-election party, before I heard any real results, I was shedding tears listening to Obama's acceptance speech on the radio. Shortly thereafter, I was shedding tears for a very different reason.

I can't help but feel a sense of bitterness about the Obama celebration. All the talk of hope, inclusion, moving forward, joining together, I can't help but feel that it's not meant to be everyone joining together. How can it be, when 3 out of 4 initiatives against gay marriage passed? How can it be, when Arkansas wanted so badly to exclude the GLBTQ community that it trampled on the lives and needs of helpless kids, by passing a measure that unmarried couples cannot adopt or serve as foster parents? Do you understand that? Do you understand that hundreds of kids in Arkansas will be denied perhaps their first chance at stability in their upside down lives, and it's because people hate gay people just that much? Come on people, this is shit they do in China! How can it be meant for everyone when Obama's own words speaking out against gay marriage provided the last bit of fuel that helped push Prop 8 to success?

How can it be, when the news this morning is filled with pictures of people celebrating, beaming with joy and glee, at their accomplishment of successfully stripping away the rights of millions of people they have never met, but spent tens of millions of dollars to oppress?

I'm sorry--I'm very happy that Obama won. I do believe he represents the best chance for this country to move forward and heal. From a social context, his victory is amazing, and historic, and not something I thought I would see in my lifetime; not just that he won, but HOW he won. But I don't believe right now that this party is for everyone.

Election Eve

I usually don't do this, but I'm manipulating the timestamp on this post because it most assuredly needs to be labeled under Monday, Nov. 3rd.

So here it is, sometime after midnight the day before Election Day, when Prop 8 is getting voted on. Tomorrow we're doing a massive poll visibility action, dispatching volunteers to polls across California in supportive areas, taking one last stab at making sure undecided people have their questions answered, and supportive people actually know which way to vote. I'll be one of the dispatch captains for Santa Monica. The mix of emotions is ridiculous, and even though I need to be up in about 3 hours and 45 minutes, it's tough to sleep.

Of course first up is the anxiety. How could there not be anxiety, waiting for the verdict of whether all the people who care about equality and rightness in this world...OK, in this state...are willing to get up and vote for it? Waiting to see how many people out there still truly believe that I and my queer family are inherently wrong?

But there's way more than that. There is excitement, there is pride, there is happiness, there is love, there is just plain tired. There is the bittersweet realization that after tomorrow, I will have so much more time to reconnect with my "regular" life...the friends back home who have suffered from my hectic schedule, the neglected laundry and classwork, the day to day things that just don't get to happen when you're gone from morning till night most days. (A HAIRCUT!! WOOO!!!!) That's the sweet. The bitter is that I won't have this regular connection with the amazing people I've met through this campaign.

And oh, the people I've met through this campaign...when I realize what a short time it's been in the grand scheme of things, I'm amazed. It feels like I've spent years bonding with these people; it's been a month and a half. I've met, learned from, grown to love, and been inspired by so many amazing people, I hesitate to even name any names for fear that I'll leave someone out. But if there's one thing a law student's posts have, it's enumeration, so there you go.

The No on 8 staffers, many of whom moved themselves to California from across the country to pour their hearts and souls into this work. Aimee, who's been living out of the apartment of someone she didn't know before this campaign. Trystan, who is quite simply amazing and inspiring, and a beautiful example of how you can be true to yourself and who you are, and still make a living and do good in this crazy world. Stephen, another law student who found time (I don't know how) to join the No on 8 staff. The others, Anne Marie, Elizabeth and Dale, who I don't know quite as well but who are all phenomenally dedicated and warm people.

And my fellow volunteers, many of whom are from UCLA. Russell, who never says no and was out there even more than I was scouting polling locations on Halloween night. Mikael, who pulls all the strings on UCLA campus, and ALMOST made me misty eyed at the staff meeting this evening. Erik, who continually let himself be conned into more and more, including 5 1/2 hours to do the early voting, plus another hour or so of rallying. Isidro and Jason, an absolutely adorable couple, and beautiful people who make me light up when either of them enter the room. Jen, who is a fellow new-to-LAer. Oh man...see, I knew I was going to forget people... And of course LT, who has been ridiculously patient as I basically said, "Yay, you moved here! OK, I have to go [phone bank/volunteer/vote/rally/etc] now."

Anyway, no matter how tomorrow turns out, I know that tomorrow evening will be in my heart and in my memory forever. After the polls close and all is said and done, we're all headed to a campaign celebration type thing (hopefully victory party!) in Hollywood. It means so, so much to me to know that whatever happens, tomorrow night I'll be with these people that I've worked with so much, and who I know are so dedicated and beautiful and amazing. Whether we are celebrating together, holding each other up, or both, I'm glad I'll be with them.

Queers, This Vitriol is for You

I realized last night one of the things that both angers me the most and breaks my heart the most about the whole Prop 8 thing. If we lose, a large reason is going to be apathy. Selfish, lazy, sad apathy.

Last night what happened was that I was confirming shifts with people who signed up to volunteer on election day. These were not cold calls. These were people who willingly gave their names and information, and said, "Yes, I care. I want to help." Doing the confirmations, mostly I just left messages (because people aren't prone to pick up when they see a crazy out-of-state number calling them), confirmed two people, and had two people back out. Those two people who backed out infuriated me more than all the people I talked to during the regular phone banking who said they were going to vote yes. At least the yes voters are honest, and are willing to stand up for what they believe in.

I sat there listening to their piss poor, obviously-fake excuses, their voices laced with apathy and flakiness, and felt my blood pressure skyrocketing. Really, considering all the work, time and money that so many other have put into this, one two hour training session, plus one three hour shift doesn't seem like a whole lot. Five hours of effort in exchange for equality and the civil protections that straight people take for granted...seems like a good deal to me.

I'm not sure why it took me so long to fully recognize the apathy that plagues us. For months now I've been face to face with people--members of the queer community and straight allies alike--who just couldn't be bothered to take the time to volunteer, spread the word, or exhibit anything more than a brief passing interest in this election. Give a few hours to phone bank. Donate the cost of your lattes for the week. Do something. Do anything. Please, give a shit.

It's the members of the queer community that get to me the most. This is YOUR life! These are YOUR rights! When proponents of Prop 8 are supporting the marriage ban, it is YOU they are talking about. They are saying that YOU are lesser, are morally wrong, are disgusting, are sinful, are repugnant, are diseased. YOU. It's pathetic how many times I've personally asked people, my friends and fellow queers to take an evening and phone bank, and watched them squirm as they stammer out their shitty excuses.

You can't be bothered to care about this? You can't be bothered to care that in areas that have passed anti-equality measures, it didn't just stop there--that the general climate for the minority group became significantly more negative overall? You don't care that if this passes, it will justify and legitimize discrimination? Really? Then fuck you, you deserve to be discriminated against. The rest of us, however, do not deserve to suffer at the hands of your selfish apathy.

If we lose this thing, I hope all those apathetic, lazy, selfish people take a moment on November 5th and realize that it's their fault. We will have lost because they couldn't be bothered to get off their asses, take a night off from clubbing, DVR Grey's Anatomy, and do something more than make a face at Prop 8. We will have lost because they told the world it was OK to treat us like shit.

It may sound harsh, but it's absolutely true. Studies have shown that the majority of people who are planning to vote yes are more passionate and more active than the majority of people who are planning to vote no. If we lose, it won't be because of numbers, it will be because of apathy. That's just fucking tragic.

Walls, Dinners, and Leaves

You're in a new place, living a new life. You constantly have tons to do--the endless readings, needing to be ready for class discussions, papers to write. You have endless opportunities presented to you to do exactly what you've always wanted to do--actively work to make the world a better place. And you take them--how could you not?! Then suddenly, you find yourself in the middle of a huge fight, against people telling you to your face that they don't think you're equal. It's nothing personal, they hope you can still be friends, but they don't think you're deserving of the same rights as they are, that deep down they feel you are morally repugnant, and they are willing to spend tens of millions of dollars to prove it.

You find yourself in this fight, not where you are comfortable. Not in a place with your long time friends and family around you. True, with a strong number of budding new friendships, but not the time-tested, weathered ones that you can truly lean on. Not in a familiar place, with comforting changing leaves, soothing rainy days and invigorating crisp ones. But in a place with alien looking palms stretching starkly to the sky, and only bright, intense days. The rays of the sun call for constant energy, but little true relaxation.

And little by little you feel yourself losing pace. The water rises, centimeter by centimeter (which is odd, seeing as it never rains). The readings go from being read thoroughly before class, to read quickly before class, to now and then not being read before class, for those professors who don't cold call. Readings begin to take twice as long, because concentration comes hard, as well as staying awake. You hit rough spots in class and don't feel quite like the competent intelligent person you were convinced you were after the rousing convocation speeches. Exams begin to loom on the horizon, and with them the feeling that you should be doing more to prepare, even now. You're not doing enough. You don't remember the last time you got six hours of sleep. Your shoulders and neck turn into knots, and the headache from the stress, lack of sleep and poor blood flow becomes somewhat constant. The enthusiasm with which you tackled everything just a couple weeks ago is fading fast.

You tell yourself, it's just until the election. You're tired, and you're stretched a bit too thin, but the end is in sight. The hours of phone banks, debates, meetings, stress, and angst will be over on November 5th. All you need to do is find a way to push through these last two weeks, just stick it out, and you'll wake up November 5th with fewer obligations. But until then, every moment has to be productive. Every second has to be working towards the larger goals, whether it be school, new friendships, old friendships, or justice for someone somewhere.

And finally, fuck it. You just can't do it.

This is all a long and dramatic way of saying I really learned the value of taking a little time off this week. Friday rolled around, and I just couldn't do anything. No matter how much I wanted to insist on trying to write, read, work, or whatever, I was simply not going to be any good to anyone, anywhere. So after class ended, I caught the first bus home, slept for three hours in the middle of the day, then took the evening off with an amazing dinner out with some new friends, and some good old hockey. Today was back to work for most of the day, phone banking and school work, then a movie with some other new friends. (W...it was OK...given the subject matter, they didn't have to make a phenomenal movie, and it showed.)

Earlier this week I was talking to one of the faculty members at school, and he was asking how things were going. I said they were going OK, I was pretty tired and stressed from all the election work, and was looking forward to the election being over. He commented that yeah, it's a hard thing to learn how to balance yourself, and that it's not just now for the election, but it will always be this way. I didn't think too hard about it right at that time (too busy, ya know) but I realize now that he's right. It's not as though after this election there won't be anything else to work towards, no other causes that I'm passionate about, people who need help, justice that needs to be fought for. That's never going to happen in my lifetime. So, for this election, however it comes out, I'm certainly taking away the lesson that I'm only one person, and I'll need to work on my skills a bit when it comes to picking and choosing where and how thin to spread myself. It's a good lesson, that I'm grateful to have begun to learn without (hopefully) any consequences worse than stress headaches and sleep deprivation.

An added bonus is that in taking a bit of time off this weekend, I've gotten to begin to connect more with those budding new friendships. At school, it's been connecting and realizing that, while not everyone has quite the number of obligations I've committed myself too, we all have had our moments of feeling like the class dunce. We're all feeling overstressed, and we're all feeling like we're hitting a bit of a hump. At the election work, it's been connecting and realizing that these don't have to be transient acquaintances, but the beginnings of lasting bonds with amazing, hard working, passionate people.

And then, the feather in my rejuvenation cap, I got a package in the mail today, containing genuine, honest-to-goodness, Western PA leaves of various shades and colors, courtesy of MT. And along with a few minutes of misty eyes, they brought final added strength of remembering that even if we're on opposite sides of the country, the love and support I have with all those crazy people stretches infinitely.

Indulgent Satire

In the whole Prop 8 issue, I've done my best to remain on the high ground of non-mockery, countering argument with argument, rather than with disdain and satire. However, I'm only human.

Now That's Service!

Apparently sensing my frustration with having to use a Windows machine, however briefly, Apple put the pedal to the medal and got my computer done lickity split. So today I took an unexpected yet happy bus detour home to pick up my newly restored machine.

I just thought you should all know. I know you were probably all very concerned.

Now I must get back to reading. With all the election stuff going on, I need to take the study time where I can get it. Oh, and in case you haven't had it yet today, here's your daily dose of No on 8, with a nod to LesbianDad and Looky, Daddy!:



Now is the time to donate. Let your support be known.

Popup Blocker

Well, I made it through my 12+ computerless hours; it was aided by the fact that I was in post-memo sleep deprivation, so I actually slept for a good eight of those hours. (Eight hours of sleep--unheard of!!) Factor in time cooking, eating, doing some reading, showering, and biking home yesterday, I only had an hour or so of jonesing.

I am now, however, missing my MAC. Not a computer, my Mac. The loaner laptops from the school are all Dells. When I switched to the Mac, I knew vaguely that I liked it better, but couldn't pinpoint for you why. Now that I'm using a Windows machine here for a bit again, I think I can do it better. I'll sum it up for you in one word.

Popup.

I've gotten more stupid popup messages in the hour and half that I've been on this laptop than I get in a month on the Mac. Would you like to do this? Watch out for that! Are you sure about this other thing? Really? No...I mean...really really?

And then there are the things it decides its going to do automatically without telling you. Such as, deciding behind the scenes that it's going to apply an update which requires a restart, so that in the heart of Torts class, as you are taking notes, it shuts down without warning as you are in mid-sentence.

Fun stuff, really! But, I shall not complain much--an old fogey like me is just amazed at the mere existence of a loaner laptop program to begin with. Young whippersnappers these days...I tell ya.

Withdrawal?

For the last week or so, my computer has gotten very cranky, stubbornly refusing to admit that it has a keyboard and track pad, like a tempestuous four year old. The stubborn refusal part, not the keyboard and track pad part. So, I've had the joy of lugging around a separate USB mouse and keyboard for the last week in order to use it. Needless to say, the keyboard doesn't mesh too gracefully in the bag with all the big heavy law books.

After some back and forth, I have reached a magical confluence of events by which 1) the required new parts are at the repair store, 2) I am in an immediately-post-paper lull (just turned in a paper this morning), so this is not a horrendous time for me to be without my computer, 3) I have time tonight to detour on the way home to the Apple store to drop it off for repairs, and 4) I have a magical appointment with Apple for the 30 seconds it will take for me to say, "Here's my computer."

UCLA has a fantastically helpful IT department, so tomorrow morning, armed with a copy of the repair order showing that my laptop is undergoing surgery, they will loan me a temporary machine to use until I get mine back. The challenge is this: from 8:00 or so this evening until some time tomorrow morning, I will be sans computer. Unplugged.

Can I do it?

Will I make it?

Twelve hours with no email? No New York Times (oh wait...that comes in that paper stuff, doesn't it)? No WashBlade? No other-people's-blogs? No streaming radio?

Considering that for the last week I have loathed dealing with the external crap and have avoided using my laptop unless forced, it probably won't be a stretch. But it's funny to make fun of my internet dependence anyhow.

Again

Well, if you enjoyed yesterday's bus story, here's a doozie.

Saturday morning I did phone banking for No on 8 on campus, then went to the law school the library closed at 6:00 and a crabby librarian shooed us out. I was cranky from a less-than-spectacular phone bank morning, combined with cranky librarian woman, so a couple friends and I decided to grab a couple drinks. I decided to leave my bag in my locker at the law building, and just grab it on the way back to catch the bus.

A good time was had with a couple margaritas, and I wasn't too concerned about catching the last trip of the bus that I normally take, which came around at slightly after 8:30. I knew there were other combos of busses I could take home, although catching that one would be a lot easier. As it turned out, I would have gotten it, except I had to get my bag from my locker. End result, I think I missed it by a few short minutes. And thus began the set of dominos...

I waited at the bus stop for at least another half hour or 40 minutes for a different bus that I could take. I had to take that one east to Hollywood, then another one south to my neighborhood. The bus finally came, with tons of entertainment in the form of five drunk guys speaking some indistinguishable foreign language, and old guy with two teeth speaking indistinguishable English, and a somewhat normal-ish looking woman who was practically cowering in a ball trying to ignore them. The drunk guys got booted for drinking on the bus, at which point the toothless guy turned his attention to the woman and decided he was going to give her a book, and insisted on her taking it. She turned to me, laughing about the book, at which point I realized she was missing about half of her teeth as well. Must've been a toothless full moon or something.

I get off the bus in Hollywood, hanging out at Sunset and Vine on a Friday night with a somewhat large "No on Prop 8" (aka, I'm A Giant Queer) sign. Yeehaw. Most of this time I was on the phone with LT, but without warning my cell phone ran out of battery, and the last thing she heard was me cursing because I realized I must have dropped my bus pass on the first bus while laughing about the toothless guy. Wherever I dropped it, it sure wasn't on me anywhere. And, I had spent the rest of my cash getting drinks earlier. At any rate, I figured the last thing she heard was, "Shit...aw, fuck," then silence, and would be convinced that I was dead.

Happily, there was an ATM on the corner, and a nearby Borders books that was open late. The Borders chick refused to just give me change for the $20 I got from the ATM for the bus, so I got myself a yummy 50 cent chocolate treat to get change, and bought time on the Borders wireless network while waiting for the next bus (luckily the wireless signal reached across the street to the bus stop), so that I could let LT know I was still alive and safe, just incompetent.

The last bus came, and with no further eventful stories, about 2 1/2 hours after missing that first bus by 5 minutes, I finally made it home.

Missed the Bus

Yeehaw, I missed the bus. I was at the bus stop at 6:45, when I realized I forgot a book in the student lounge. I thought this bus was supposed to leave the transit terminal at 6:45, which would put it here rought at around 6:55, so I would have time to go back and get it. I got it, and was back by 6:53. (Yes, I checked.) Then I sat. And I waited.

And I grew suspicious.

And I realized, no, it's the one that comes in the 7:00 hour that leaves at :45. The one in the 6:00 hour leaves the transit station at :35. Which meant it came by the bus stop during the eight minutes I was running back in to get my book. And in case you didn't piece together the time math up above, the next one won't be by until 7:55 or so.

So in the meantime, the UCLA wireless network extends across the street to the bus stop I'm sitting at, so I decided to write you guys a post about missing the bus. My next step might just be to get on whatever bus comes by next, whichever one it may be. (There really aren't too many that stop here, so that's not as adventurous as it sounds.)

Oh! But I can also share with you some fun bus stories I've accumulated in the couple months I've been here so far.

- There is TV on the bus here. I'm not kidding. It doesn't play shows, it's just all tiny tiny news blurbs, and ads for Spanish-language serials.

- The "Alpha and Omega" guy. He's gotten on a few times that I've been on. His deal is to get on, then stop in the aisle and loudly pronounce that we all ought to be praising God, the creator, the kind, the supreme lord of us all. Then randomly during his ride he'll make more such pronouncements. I was OK with him until he started talking about alpha and omega...few good things happen after someone starts talking about alpha and omega, I think.

- Listening to the bus driver and a passenger debate the athletic merits of USC vs. UCLA. They started off normally, football, basketball, then jumped right to the water polo teams. WTF?

- Two guys from Florence who were a bit confused about where they should get off, and I was able to help them with the fading remnants of my rudimentary Italian.

- The new bus driver who missed a turn, so to get back on the route we ended taking the giant behemoth bus down these tiny, steep side streets in Hollywood. I was very grateful for air brakes. The looks on the faces of passersby were fantastic.

- We passed a long flexi-bus that got stuck. In another missed-turn case, the driver was attempting to make a u-turn in an intersection. After shouting to the other driver to see if she was OK, other driver explained that the middle flexi part has a sensor in it, where if it becomes bent at too sharp of an angle, it cuts off the engine. There's a button that the driver can push to override it and re-start the bus. "But apparently she doesn't know about that." You will notice, however, that he didn't offer this helpful tidbit of info to the other driver.

Public Transit Is Fun For Everyone!

Here Is Why

Here are two stories to help folks understand why defeating Prop 8 is so important. Are these stories blatant guerrilla heart-tugging techniques? Yes. But that doesn't change the fact that they are also REAL.

The story of Janice Langbehn and Lisa Marie Strong. In February, 2007, Janice and three of the couple's children were denied hospital visitation rights and medical power of attorney as Lisa lay dying of a brain aneurysm in a hospital in Florida, having collapsed from a stroke during a family vacation over 3,000 miles from their home in the northwest. Despite having all required legal documents faxed to the hospital, over the course of eight hours Janice was allowed to see Lisa for only five minutes, and that thanks to the kindness of a priest who let her be present for last rites. The children were never permitted to see her, even though they were all her legally adopted kids. Lisa died alone in the hospital room, while her family sat in the waiting room.

The story of Charlene Strong and Kate Fleming. In December, 2006, Charlene was initially denied hospital visitation rights and was later denied the right to make funeral arrangements when Kate drowned in a flash flood in the basement of their home in Seattle. The hospital only permitted Charlene to see Kate after contacting Kate's sister in Virginia. The funeral director would not even look at Charlene, let alone listen to her instructions as to Kate's wishes. Charlene later testified to the Washington state legislature about their story, which was considering a bill to provide some limited rights to same-sex couples; members of the legislature credited her testimony as the turning point in their decision to vote for the bill.

Lastly, not wanting to leave you on a totally negative note, here's an awesome video. It's not every day you get to see a straight Republican politician break down in tears as he explains why he has changed his previous stance and decided to back gay marriage. Here's your chance, with San Diego mayor Jerry Sanders.

Note: This was from about a year ago, and Mayor Sanders has been RE-elected since taking this stand.

See that thermometer? It's not to late to donate and help!

Please.

I feel a little dirty, but I've officially decided to become an all-out No on Prop 8 beggar.

Here's the deal. Thanks to the California Supreme Court, same sex couples have marriage equality in California. The court ruling was based on the premise that discrimination based on sexual orientation violates the state constitution, so anti-gay-rights folk have a proposition on the ballot in November which would ban gay marriage at the constitutional level in California.

I have been volunteering with No on Prop 8, the Equality for All Campaign, to defeat this proposed amendment and keep our equal civil rights. This election will impact the momentum of the GLBTQ rights movement across the country, not just here in California. Both sides know this, and as a result, both sides are organizing and fundraising nationwide. The bummer is that so far, they are winning.

If you were not among the lucky few to get my shameless email asking for money, consider that oversight remedied here: Please donate. See my little thermometer thing on the left side of my blog? Click on it! $5...$10....$30....whatever you can give.

If you know people in California, TALK TO THEM. If they are uncertain, point them to me or to No on Prop 8 for more information. If they are supportive of equal rights, please urge them to not be complacent. All indications are that this will be a close election, and we don't want to lose because supporters thought it would be a shoe-in and didn't go vote.

If this post sounds urgent and babbly, it's because that's about how I'm feelin' right about now. I spent all my organized communication abilities on my last school memo.

Kindergarten Had It Right

I don't actually remember if my kindergarten had a nap time (I kind of think it didn't actually) but people always talk about naps in kindergarten, so I'm just going to go with it for this post. Between classes this morning, I made a conscious decision to head to one of the library reading couches to do my best cat impression...stretched out in a patch of sun streaming through the window for an hour nap.

Really, every day should involve naps. Whether you're a student, working in an office, whatever...everyone should get naps. Life is just better after a nap.

What Palin Actually Said...or, Didn't Say

Since the VP debate, I've seen more than one piece of commentary that actually seems to buy into the bizarre notion that Palin and the McCain campaign support equal rights for same sex couples.

This is categorically not what Palin said in the debate.

Let me repeat that like a debate participant.

This is categorically NOT what Palin said in the debate.

The part that seems to be confusing people is the end of the discussion on the topic, which wasn't actually Palin agreeing with Biden/Obama's overall stance, but was Palin attempting what I thought was a very naked and disingenuous dodge of the issue. Boiled to its essence, here was the exchange leading up to her final statement:

Biden: If I'm hearing Palin right, she is saying that the McCain administration also supports full civil equality for same sex couples, with no civil difference between heterosexual couples and same sex couples.

Moderator (to Palin): Is that what you said?

Palin: I don't support gay marriage. He doesn't, and I don't, so on that point we agree.

At the time, I saw this as a blatant dodge of the question of whether she supports civil equality for same-sex couples. She didn't want to say no, but she also could not truthfully say yes, so she avoided the question and brought it back to gay marriage, which is not the same question. The moderator made the tongue-in-cheek statement "Great, so you agree," which I saw as a wry comment pointing to the fact that Palin didn't actually answer the question.

There were only two moments that Palin actually spoke to civil rights for same sex couples. At the beginning of her answer when she said she would not support equal civil rights to the extent that it would blur the line of marriage, and again when she gave the example that no one in a McCain/Palin administration would argue that someone should not be able to see their partner in the hospital. To the hospital example, I'd like to point out THAT IS THE STATUS QUO. If you are not pushing for equal civil rights for same sex couples, then you are saying that you are OK with this situation.

At no point in her "answers" did Palin state that she and McCain support equal civil rights for same-sex couples. Never. Not once. However, people seem to be pointing to that last exchange and to the moderator's wry comment, and actually thinking it was a literal summation of what was said.

What I thought was going to happen is that, even though she obviously was not saying the campaign supported equal rights, the McCain campaign would furiously issue retractions clarifying that they did not agree with the Obama campaign, not wanting to alienate the conservative base. I see now that I was pretty naive, both in thinking that it would be clear to many that she didn't actually agree, and in thinking that the McCain campaign would clear up any confusion. How silly of me...no, this confusion can work to their benefit. I now can see the following strategy being very likely (although at this early juncture I don't know if they are going to do this): Quietly reassure supporters in private that their "values" are safe, but in the broad, general media, just leave the subject alone and let those less concerned continue with the wrong impression. There is so much else going on, the mainstream media is not likely to push the issue and press for clarification or a firmer statement.

Now, do I think this issue is going to decide the election? No. Do I think anyone is going to change their minds based on whether this confusion is cleared up one way or another? No. But it's the principle of the thing. So here is my small part in the effort to make sure this confusion is not allowed to continue.

Metablog*

*Updated 3/25/09 to redact my rashness.

It should be pretty darn clear by now that my poor little blog is going to suffer from my jaunt through law school. I make no apologies or excuses...whatever. It's reality. What I've found is interesting, though, is that the longer I go without a post, the more pressure I feel to make sure my first post back is really good, impactful, insightful, etc. Which of course I'm not going to live up to because these days that would mean that pretty much every post needs to be really impressive, because every post seems to be ending a gap of silence. So the self-induced pressure for a really great post builds up, which actually extends the gap of silence because I'm hesitant to just jot down a note during a spare couple of minutes.

So right now I'm sitting in Torts and in a rare event we aren't going over new material, but doing a review exercise matching fact patterns. So my mind is wandering, so I thought I'd take this time to write this post in Text Edit, to be posted later, and give you a spectacularly unimpressive post about posting to break this silence. And then see how many times I could put the word "post" in one sentence. I hope you enjoyed this small insight into the hallowed halls of UCLA School of Law.

Ahh...Football

Ah yes...with everything else that has changed over the last few months, it's nice to have good old sports. Fall = Football. Football! I can't say that it's exactly the same, because it's a little wrong when Sunday Night Football starts at 5:00. But still, ahh...the weekend rolls around and it's good old four downs, 100 yards, kickoffs, field goals and yelling at the refs.

The Steelers were on Sunday Evening Football this weekend which meant national TV, even out here in LaLa Land. Football in rotten weather, wind and rain swirling around. Just a little piece of home coming through the boob tube.

Watching the Steelers beat the Browns....ah, some things really do never change.

Just wait and see how happy I am when hockey season rolls around!

Oh Yeah...I'm in Law School!

Right...I have a blog. Hello!

So the one thing I haven't posted about (yes, just the one thing) is the whole reason I'm out here in the first place - law school! A bunch of people ask me how school is, and I give them all the same corny, drippy, silly answer: Absolutely fantastic. On so many levels.

The easiest is the return to academia. I've always said I was born to be a professional student, and I still think that's true. Listening, reading, absorbing, this is all right up my alley, and I get it in giant huge bunches here. The classes and the material are hugely challenging. The work is tough, and often being in the spotlight in class makes you squirm, but it's clear that the spotlight is there to challenge you and make you better.

On a deeper level, the atmosphere at UCLA is better than I ever imagined. The stereotypical image of law school is stuffy and tradition-oriented. The first year, the only goal is to weed out the weak; classes are handled with half an eye towards teaching, and half an eye towards getting the unfit to crack and fail miserably. Some schools cut as much as the bottom third of their students after the first year. Innovative thinking may be allowed as you progress (or maybe not) but in the first year, you're not presumed to have enough of a brain to think your own thoughts. These cultures also create a fierce competition among students, as everyone frantically struggles to step on everyone else so as to not be at the bottom. For those who aren't worried about being on the cut list, everyone else is an obstacle in the way of your six figure firm job. As far as public interest work goes, every school pays lip service to it, but the feel is more that we owe it to chip in a few hours of pro bono work now and then, and let the little people have a taste of our brilliance.

Much to my surprise, at UCLA I've found myself able to put the words "law school" and "nurturing" into the same sentence. Right from the get-go, the culture has been positive, supportive, and encouraging. The convocation speeches were a giant pep talk, all about how, as we go through stress and uncertainty in the next few years, remember that we rock, the school rocks, the faculty and administration rock, and when we get done we'll be able to do thinks that rock. (In contrast, MG's description of her convocation speeches was: "The next three years will be hell and a bunch of you will either die or fail.") Over and over, we hear the message that if we need support--whether personal or academic--the faculty, administration and other students are here to help us. They make no bones that the next three years will be difficult and won't always be fun, but they make it equally clear that their goal is not to break us, but to push us to excel. There is no thought of separating the wheat from the chaff.

This atmosphere of support spills over into the student body. Yes, there are those who are still hyper-competitive and gunning for that firm job. There is a mandatory curve on the first year, although the thought of mandatory cuts is downright absurd here. But there also seem to be just as many students who have no interest in such competition and mistrust. Help is offered freely, notes are shared, tips and tricks are passed around, class outlines obtained from a 2L or 3L are forwarded along for others' benefit. Although not everyone shares it, enough students feel that there's room for all of us to be successful in the end. One person's success doesn't come at another's expense. That feel is also passed along by older students and alumni. We've heard repeated often that the next three years are only as cutthroat as we make them.

As far as public interest and innovation go, this is where it is singularly personally fulfilling for me. UCLA has twice the percentage of graduates that go into public interest work as many other schools (8% vs. 4%), and this is a reflection of the academic and extracurricular activities they have here, and the effort that they put into developing a solid culture of progressive, social justice-oriented thinking. These opportunities are available from the start; even though we can't do anything academically yet (all 1Ls have a standard class schedule), they immediately welcome us in and encourage us to begin making connections. The number one detriment to law students maintaining their ambitions of social justice is the larger culture of law as a means to a lucrative career and personal gain. The programs here recognize this and provide us a place to meet others who are like minded right from the get-go. And, they encourage students to come up with their own ideas and actively contribute to both the administration and the activities of the school. I've counted at least four different legal clinics so far that only just started over the last few years, entirely at the initiative of students who saw a need and had the support of the school to try to fill it.

Aside from the obvious reasons that this is fulfilling, for me it's a dream come true. Going back to school, I expected the next three years to be a necessary evil to my eventual goal of working in a social justice capacity. I figured it would be three years of swimming almost entirely against the grain, with occasional support here or there, finding my own way among a culture pursuing purely corporate and political aspirations, with little opportunity to have immediate impact. Instead, everything has been exactly the opposite, even in terms of immediate work.

A month and a half ago, I was sitting in my cube feeling like actual work to do good was a million miles away. Then I got here and find that everything I've ever wanted to do is in my immediate grasp. "You want to change things? Here. You want to help people? Here. You see things you don't agree with? Here." Next week I'm going to my first clinic, helping rehabilitated (-ing) ex-convicts navigate legal hurdles in the course of getting re-established in society. I'm also signed up this semester to work a few days at a mobile legal clinic that sets up at a local food bank, helping people there address problems they've had such as minor offenses related to homelessness, and denial of rightful benefits. As if that wasn't enough, I'm also slated for a third clinic that helps people with HIV and AIDS find and keep affordable, livable housing.

And oh yeah, I go to class, too.

At any rate, this post has become ridiculous. I'm sure you have something to go do, and I certainly have reading to do. To quote something I saw recently (although I'll be damned if I can remember where...maybe LT?) I can't promise to try to post more often, but I promise to try to try!

With All Due Respect to MG

MG, I love that we can agree to disagree.

And I love Jon Stewart. Nods of thanks to LesbianDad for posting this.

Let's All Pause for a Moment

...and cry for Diddy, or whatever he has decided to go by this week. No, really--let's be sad for him. Forget the 47 million Americans without health insurance. Forget the people in the Gulf who couldn't even worry about their homes being washed away by Gustav because they were still living in FEMA trailers three years after Katrina. Forget the kids struggling in areas with impoverished tax bases that can't support adequate school systems, whose families don't have the luxury of turning to private school. Forget the 400,000 dead and millions displaced in Darfur. Forget the people starving in the midst of food crises throughout Africa and parts of Asia.

Yes, instead let's be sad for Diddy because he has to fly first class. I mean, I know when I was worriedly checking the news this morning to see what was happening in the Gulf, I quickly forgot all about such mundane matters when I saw this heartbreaking news.

And also, let's all be thankful to Diddy for settling the confusion over whether or not fuel prices had gotten really high. The millions of people struggling just to fill their tanks, let alone cope with the rising costs of all manner of goods and services, will be happy to no longer have to wonder.

State of Affairs

In making this big move to the left coast, I thought I was going to be presented with an interesting shift to this blog--from introspection/commentary to news delivery. I'm doing my darnedest to keep in touch with all the folk back east, but as you can imagine law school keeps one a bit busy, even when not combined with moving across the continent. So, I really started feeling the need to put some basic, bald news up here. That posed a problem on several fronts, 1) I feel like it puts me in danger of feeling less responsible for communicating with people directly, 2) it's not the purpose of this blog, and 3) if I spend all my time trying to communicate daily (weekly, whatever) news, I risk losing the random ruminations on thins, which I really like doing.

A week into law school, though, I am realizing that this won't be an ongoing problem. "Why?" you ask. Well, let's put it this way: as far as straight news goes, while the last couple weeks have been an absolutely thrilling whirlwind of activity and goings on, there really won't be a whole lot to say about endless hours spent in a law school library. It's not exactly gripping reading.

So, for now, I will do what I can to balance the newsy and non-newsy pressures.

For the news, last Tuesday my roommate, SL, and I got all moved into our apartment, which is really very cool. It's pretty big and seems to be very well maintained--the guys did a more thorough job of patching/painting/cleaning than anywhere else I've ever lived. It's also in a much older house than I expected to find in this area. I think it was built in either the 10's or 20's, and as a result has a lot of really neat built-in details and considerations that you don't generally find in your usual house built these days--cupboards built into the walls, decorative edging, etc. The doors that open out onto our little balcony are very distinctly not-modern as well, and the wooden window and door frames are incredibly well preserved.

Unpacking has progressed at a ridiculously slow pace for me. Last week didn't really afford much time, what with trying to get situated, actually moving in, starting classes, etc. Over the weekend I had intended to do much more than did, but in the end after the insanity of my last few weeks at work, driving across the country, etc., I just took a couple days and let my mind vegetate. This coming up weekend is a long weekend, so even if I don't make much progress again through this week, come next weekend I won't have an excuse!

There is also the minor news detail that, oh yeah, I started law school, but my reading assignments call so you'll just have to wait for any real info on that one. Suffice to say, "I started law school."

Two fantastic factoids about where I'm living that I will close with, to satisfy my love for imparting completely un-newsworthy things:

1) I live on the 2nd floor, with entry doors at both the top and bottom of my stairs. At the top of the stairs is a handle sticking out of the wall. If you pull the handle, it actually closes the door at the bottom of the stairs. So, if you come home and have a big armful of groceries or whatever, you don't have to try to juggle everything to close the door. Go upstairs, put the stuff down in the apartment, and pull the handle. (In the interests of full disclosure, I must admit that we can't practically use it--the door at the bottom of the stairs is the main secured entrance to the apartment and it locks by deadbolt, which the handle can't help you with. All the same, I think this handle is the funnest thing ever.)

2) I live in the heart of LA. On a residential street, yes, but still in the middle of a primarily concrete jungle, buildings lined up like sardines, on street parking maxed out on most streets, the middle of one of the biggest cities in the country. Of all the things I expected to encounter in this environment, a rooster certainly was not one of them. And yet. It's far enough away somewhere that it doesn't wake me up, but days when I'm up already I'll hear that unmistakable crow.

Road Bests

I didn't have too much time to write about the actual drive, because I was busy driving, so for posterity's sake here's a small recap. A little list of the "greatests" that I came across on my trip across the country. In order of occurrence (or first occurrence, as the case may be):

Greatest Irritation: Dollar limits on gas station credit card transactions, forcing you to execute two transactions to fill a large tank.

Greatest Religious Sign: On I-74 in Indiana, "Abortion Is Forever. Choose Life." Yeah, because, y'know, that life thing is pretty temporary. Or maybe they're implying that you can always change your mind and whack the kid later... ??

Even Greatest-er Irritation: Gas stations that don't let you use the same card over again for the second transaction, forcing you to use a different one.

Greatest Factoid from NPR: The three most popular flavors of ice cream in Japan are eel, cheese and octopus.

Greatest Radio Annoyance: Coming across the Pina Colada song three times, all within Missouri.

Greatest Roadkill: Coyote

Greatest Moment of Disgust: Realizing that the first hotel room I got in Tulsa had apparently been used as a daytime refuge by employee, friend of an employee, or some other resourceful stranger. Most of the room was OK, but the bedspread had been pulled off of one bed, and most lovely was the pee on the toilet.

Second Greatest Moment of Disgust: Hopping out of the truck to get gas in western Oklahoma and landing in a big wad of chew that had been spit on the ground.

Greatest View of Weather Phenomena: Seeing virga from miles away across the landscape

Greatest Scenery: New Mexico Route 185 heading north from I-40 to Santa Fe.

Greatest Circus Sideshow: Digging Tiki out of the boxspring that she hid in while in Santa Fe.

Greatest Town/Exit Name: To'hajiilee (New Mexico)

Greatest Understatement: Said by woman wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt at a rest stop in northern Arizona at 5:00 in the afternoon in August, "It's hot here."

Greatest Shock: Agricultural inspections at the California border. I had no problems, but it was somewhat jarring to have a checkpoint where all cars were stopped and searched (albeit lightly), including the official asking to take a look in the back of my truck. Makes you realize how much we take for granted the concept of free travel within the country.

Greatest Success: Getting the cats across country with little incident or difficulty, scarcely a month after they couldn't even go to the vet's without ending up covered in their own excrement.

Nothing Says "Welcome" Like the DMV

Today was my first full day as a resident of Los Angeles, and most of it was spent at that ambassador that all states have, that official welcome mat laid out to new residents all across the country, the Department of Motor Vehicles.

The first frustration was parking - namely, it was inadequate, the fact that it was inadequate foreshadowed the long wait inside, and the people in the parking lots should have all had their licenses immediately revoked for sheer madness. The second frustration was finally finding parking only to realize that I had left my bag, which had my insurance card and birth certificate, in the rental truck.

You know it's going to be bad when the line just to get a number is about 45 minutes long. All told, six hours of life today was dedicated to securing a California driver's license and motor vehicle registration. Perhaps 45 minutes of it was spent parking and going back to get my bag. About a half hour was spent getting my car tested for emissions. I'll be generous and say maybe 15 minutes of it was spent at actual counters talking to people and having things processed. The other 4 1/2 hours of it was spent waiting. Waiting to get a number. Waiting for my number to be called.

The number one frustration by far was this inane policy that they are only able to process one transaction per trip to the window. Need to do two things (such as license and registration)? Go through all lines twice. I got to the counter, and when told I had to pick which one to do, picked the car registration. Not knowing beforehand that I needed the smog certificate and something called a "car verification," I realized that strictly speaking I would need to go back through TWO more times - once with the required car papers, and again for my license. The woman said, "Well, it's really quick to finish the registration once you have the papers so they can just go ahead and do it."

I came back with smog certificate and car verification in hand (I know...Lancer passed Cali's smog standards...I'm as shocked as you are), ran through the line gauntlet yet again, and once again got slapped with "I can only do one transaction." Fortunately, the woman who I had the first time overheard and told me to just come to her counter when I was done with the license...grazie a dio.

I still have to go back to take the written test for the license. (Apparently when the sign says no tests will be administered after 4:30, that doesn't mean they will be administered up until 4:30.) But everything else is done - photos, plates, fees, inspections, verifications, transactions, numbers, venting. Most importantly, this written test can be done without a number. And it's only one transaction.

Angeleno

Voila! I have arrived in LA. My last post was from Tuesday night in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Wednesday was a "short" (er) drive from Tulsa to Santa Fe, passing through the rest of Oklahoma, the top of Texas, and the first half or so of New Mexico. About the only good thing I can really say about OK and TX was that the humidity calmed down as I went further west. Oh, and Texas looked like it had really well maintained rest stops, for what it's worth. I ended up not stopping at all in Texas, but when I stopped in Oklahoma for gas, I jumped out of the truck and landed square in a huge wad of chewing tobacco that someone had spit out. Yum...

In Santa Fe, once again sM provided lodging, this time on the other side of the country where he happened to be visiting his girlfriend. What luck! As much as Tulsa was humid and bug-ridden, Santa Fe was absolutely gorgeous! Likewise for the drive through New Mexico to get there. My favorite part was getting off I-40 to take a two-lane road to get up to the Santa Fe area, rather than going all the way to Albequerque and then backtracking up I-25. It really cut right through a lot of the gorgeous scenery that you usually only see from afar on the interstate. I attempted some pictures, but really the beauty is in the whole vista, something a point-and-click digital doesn't have a prayer of capturing.

Then Thursday was the long haul from Santa Fe to LA, with the option to stop in Needles, CA, if need be. By the time Needles came along it was only 6:00, so on the Penske truck went, arriving in Los Angeles around 10:30 or so Pacific time.

I'm happy to say the furkids were troopers the entire ride, with only a small bout of infighting right at the end. I didn't blame them for the last bit--the last day was really long and hard on them, and they were at the end of their little kitty ropes. The temporary apartment my roommate and I are staying in until our actual apartment is ready is a loft-style place, and all the open area has them a little on edge after the stress of the travel, but they're doing OK.

Greetings from Tulsa

A quick note on the second day of my drive across the country. Things have gone very well so far--the cats have slept most of the time, and the truck is great. I had braced myself for a long drive in a rotten truck, but it is relatively new, has a CD player, not just a radio (which means the money I spent on a transmitter to plug into my MP3 player was wasted, but oh well). Anyone looking for a long distance move, I highly recommend Penske. I know it's partly dumb luck, but the truck is in great shape, the people were really nice, I got a free upgrade to a car carrier instead of a tow dolly (they didn't have the tow dolly on hand), they didn't charge me for the furniture pads that were in the back of the truck, and they gave me a AAA discount even though I don't have AAA. Word.

States I went through today which I'd never been to were Missouri and Oklahoma, but although I've been to Indiana and Illinois before, nowhere near the path I took through those states today. The highway skirted Indianapolis too much to get any view of the city, but I did go right through St. Louis--frighteningly close to rush hour, but traffic wasn't bad at all. And I snapped some pictures of the Arch! I was very surprised at how hilly Missouri was--I never really thought about it, but I guess I presumed everything west of Columbus was flat. Now that I think about it, I realize Missouri is never talked about as a plains state. Come to think of it, Missouri is never really talked about... Oklahoma, however, has provided some of the flatness I expected.

All in all, I gotta say, not a fan of the middle of America so far, at least not this part. Missouri and Oklahoma thus far have been insanely humid, and with so many bugs that there were times I swore it was drizzling, and the noise I heard was the patter of drops on the roof. Nope, it was the patter of bugs going splat. Yummy.

Besides the bugs, the only hitch so far was a 45- to 60-minute delay on I-70 west of Indianapolis, where we sat on the highway due to a wreck up ahead. If that's the worst thing that happens on this trip, I'll be ecstatic.

No Title Fits This Post

Too often in our lives, the various things we need for happiness and fulfillment don't quite mesh. We're left making choices which, while we feel they are the right ones, have an inevitable element of bittersweetness. We're left trying to balance the things we want need, the things we want need to do, the people we want need to be with. But there's never enough time. There are never enough dinners, coffee walks, breakfasts, movies, evenings spent running errands, or hugs. There never could be; those things could be infinite in supply and there would still not be enough.

The paths we feel a need to follow never have absolutely everything we want need, and we have the unhappy task of making the best of it.

Even though I'm driving away from this place and these people, I will never leave.

Waiting

Cats have an excuse. You can't explain to them, "Here's what's going on, and why, and you guys will be OK no matter what; I'll keep you safe." Well, you can try, but they don't speak quite that much human. All they know is that their whole life disappeared with a flurry of boxes and a big noisy truck.

And they are kinda freaked out.

I, on the other hand, don't have this excuse. I know what's going on--I made it all happen. On purpose. I know vaguely what is coming down the road and why. And most of the time, I'm doing OK with it all. Every now and then, though, all I know is that my whole life disappeared with a flurry of boxes and a big noisy truck.

And I'll admit to being kinda freaked out.

I truly appreciate the kindness of those who are helping me out, especially MT who from day one said I was welcome to stay with her. But I admit I'll be grateful for the end of this week. Pretty much all I have to do these days is sit and wait, and think about how much I'm going to miss Pittsburgh and the life I had built here. Once in a while, Whiskey comes up to me and paws my arm, and looks up at me with an expression that seems to ask, "Where did home go? Why did we leave it?" I know the answer, but when all there is to do is ponder the question, your confidence in the answer is shaken. It's not exactly doubt, it's just being kinda freaked out.

Seethe

An acquaintance of mine is putting together a photography show, originally planned to be a display of queer female-bodied people in relationships. She started out with the expressed goal of showing couples of all kinds, combinations and identities.

I had thought LT and I would be a fun addition to the show. Not only would we be supporting a young photographer in her first show, but we are probably a fairly rare (at least rare in Pittsburgh) example of a couple comprised of two female-bodied people both with alternate gender identities. Unfortunately, by the time we learned about the show LT was gone from Pittsburgh, so half of the couple was missing.

After a little while, though, the photographer had some difficulty getting quite enough couples, and began including some individuals. So, I volunteered to be photographed, because I figured I could provide a unique subject that is a bit scarce in these parts, thereby allowing her to represent a wider range of identities in the show. She was grateful--she told me that the vast majority of people agreeing to be in the show were femmy, obviously female-identified people. She did have one other person who often performed in drag, but that was about it in terms of alternate expressions of identity.

Today, she called and said that she had decided not to include either me or the drag performer. Her reasoning was that all the other pictures were going to be of happy, smiling, romantic women, and these just wouldn't fit.

Really, just typing those words makes me fucking MAD!

I tried explaining to her that presenting with a trans identity wasn't all drum glum seriousness, that actually discovering this and being free to be who you are is a happy thing. I had actually very much been looking forward to being able to have representation of happy trans people--I would've been downright ecstatic if LT had been here and we could have had pictures of two alternately-gendered people happily being together.

It wouldn't sink in. She used the cop out that with just a few pictures of trans identities in the show, she wouldn't be doing them justice, it would be an insufficient representation of "the subject".

OK, so not representing trans people at all IS sufficient? It IS doing us justice? F that S. Seriously, if you want to do a photo shoot that is just women-identified people, that's fine--you're the artist, you have the right to put in your show whatever you want, and leave out whatever you want. But don't tout that it's an inclusive show to represent all varieties of identity, then leave out the ones that you're not comfortable with and don't understand. And then make it sound like you're doing us a fucking favor by leaving us out.

NOT.

COOL.

Transition, Dependence, Humility, Empowerment

To be quite honest, I don't even know when the last time was that I posted - and at this particular moment I'm too lazy to go look and see what it was.

*the next moment*

OK, we all know I was too anal to not go and look.

So the last time I posted I was just beginning to pack up my apartment. It's almost a week later, and since then I've gotten my apartment all packed up, everything put into storage, the apartment cleaned out, and yesterday I turned in my keys and officially became a roving vagabond. Alright, perhaps that's a bit hyperbolic, but hopefully this will be the closest I'll ever come to being a drifter, so I'm trying to live it up while I can.

There are so many things rolling around in my head that I've thought about posting about...some funny observation, some just plain factual to keep everyone up to speed on where I am (including myself), some deeper observation, and on and on. On any one of these things I could type far longer than any of you could read...heck, I'm accomplishing that with just the meta-commentary.

Today's post is coming from the second of many nights on several different futons, provided by the greatest generosity of my friends MT and sM. This very unique period of transition has put me in a position to be far more dependent on the graciousness of others than perhaps I ever have been before. At least, that I'm cognizant of. People helping me move. People giving me a place to lay my head. People offering advice on a new endeavor, and moving somewhere I know nothing about. People being my constant cheerleaders. People providing 2nd- and 3rd-degree of separation contacts in a far away place. ("You probably won't need this, but just in case you're in a tough spot and need a contact, here's so and so.") People offering amazingly generous gifts that in good conscience I can't accept.

People letting me know I'll be missed.

For a little bit (especially on moving day) I was busy focusing on the people who were failing to come through when I needed them. Look at all these people who are bailing...what does this really say? A few days removed (and blood less boiled), I've had time to reflect on the other side of that coin, and think about these wonderful people who HAVE come through...and what THAT means. I'm realizing, this position of extreme dependence is a humbling and empowering position all at once.

I'll stay away from the cliche that it's humbling to not be able to provide things like your own roof over your head (although it is). Rather, it's humbling to realize there are this many people with this much love for you. Humbling? You ask. Yep.

The rise of a special occasion like this highlights the daily consideration, thought and love that you get from all these people who are now going above and beyond. It makes you take pause, and notice all these people who contribute to the richness of your everyday life, and even when they are not filling such notable favors, all these people without whom your everyday life would not be what it is. Humbling to see the love all around you which helps to hold you up from day to day.

And therein also lies the empowerment. Realizing that you are the person who drew all these wonderful people into your life, that you have the ability to attract them and keep them as friends (because even the ones related to you can choose whether to be your friends). That you made enough of an impression on these people--whether over time or all at once--that they are happy to be part of your life, even through your less gracious moments.

So thank you, friends (related and otherwise). Truly, thank you.

Sounds Like a Challenge to Me

Your task (well, OK, my task):

Pack for a 2 1/2 week vacation. You have the following constraints:

1. You must have attire, equipment, and other items required for the following tasks and events:
   
   
   • caring for your pet cats
   • time working in an office (I know, I know...just go with it)
   • time working at an animal shelter
   • apartment hunting
   • an out-of-town wedding
   • softball game(s)
   • staying at an air conditioned house
   • staying at a non-air conditioned house
   • staying at a hotel
     
   • at least three trips to a bar for various farewell parties
   • summer in Pittsburgh
   • two moving days
   • a four-day drive across the country, with cats
   • summer in Los Angeles
   • handling administrative tasks related to leaving a job, starting school, and moving with an uncertain forwarding address
   • the possibility that it will be more like a month-long vacation with law school classes


2. Everything you pack must fit in a small-sized sedan.


3. You cannot afford to eat out every meal.

And oh yeah...it's not really a vacation, so much as you just being homeless.

Best of luck!

Leda and Katie

One thing I have learned this year is that, while for most people summer means relaxing, warm weather, and fun, at an animal shelter summer is a very difficult season. In the first place, summer means kitten season. This is the beginning of the craziness, as there are kittens practically hanging from the rafters. If that were the end of it, it wouldn't be so bad--busy, yes, but kittens are pretty easy to find homes for. Everybody loves kittens.

But that's not the end of it. Summer also brings an increase in the adult cats that come in. Strays are out and about more, and are brought in. People drop off the backyard momma cat that just had kittens (rather than bringing the kittens in, and spaying/releasing the mom). People move, and the animals are hung out to dry. People just decide they're now simply too busy for their pet. At the shelter we are surrounded by loving, lovable, playful, active, healthy adult cats who did nothing wrong, but ended up with the short end of the stick.

Too often, it's heartbreaking. Recently, a pair of lifelong pals was brought in, Stonie and Ashes, aged 8 and 10. Their humans got divorced and neither wanted to keep them. They were both wonderful cats, healthy and affectionate. Then one morning, without warning, Stonie passed away in the cage that they shared. He was only eight years old, and in good health. He just didn't wake up. We can't prove it, but we really think Stonie died of a broken heart. And now Ashes is left at the shelter, having lost first her home and now her brother.

Every now and then, though, someone walks through the door and magic happens, and it gives you the heart and courage to keep working through the sadness.

The same day that we learned about Stonie, we also learned about Katie. She had been adopted previously but was returned to the shelter because she had been found to be diabetic. The shelter doesn't have the resources to care for a diabetic cat, so there were only 48 hours to find Katie a home before her sugar levels would reach a point that she would need to be put to sleep. It was quite a blow to volunteers who were already reeling from the news about Stonie, and the overall stress of the summer months.

Miraculously, it happened. A couple who already owned another diabetic cat and a three-legged dog saw a post that a volunteer had put on Craigslist. The next day they drove over an hour to come to Pittsburgh and pick Katie up, with vet appointments already lined up to get her the help that she needs. Absolutely breathtaking. I know more than one volunteer shed tears of joy and relief when we found out that Katie had been saved.

(Unfortunately, since then we have learned that we have another diabetic cat, Winston. His case is not quite as urgent, but his time at the shelter is limited unless we can find him a home.)

And, on a more personal level, I posted a while ago about Leda, who was passed up by adopter after adopter unable to recognize how loving she was because she was just so scared. I'm happy to say that on Monday Leda found a home. A woman had seen her at the store a few days earlier, and specifically wanted to adopt an older cat. The woman thought about it for a few days and came back to see her. I explained how Leda was so affectionate through the cage door, but she would be scared to come out, and very scared when she first went home. The woman understood, and was touched by poor Leda's shyness. Happily, she decided to give Leda a safe and loving home. We exchanged emails, and I am hoping to hear how Leda comes along. I don't have the satisfaction of showing Leda myself that she has nothing to fear anymore, but at least someone will.

Yahtzee

...or, "How a $130 Test Changed My Life".

So, I'm pretty sure that most people who read this blog know most of the story already, if not the entire thing, but I really feel the need to put up an actual post about the ridiculously insane past two weeks.

Every once in a while, life turns into a big game of Yahtzee. I'm not talking about breaking up with a significant other, or getting a new job. I'm talking about quietly sitting on a table, when suddenly someone scoops you up, shakes you around in a giant blue cup, and dumps you back out onto the table in an entirely different configuration than you were just in. (Hopefully metaphorically, but I suppose anything is possible.)

On the morning of Thursday, July 3rd, at around 10 a.m., I finalized the last piece of administrative stuff that I needed to do to arrange my move to Philly and attend Temple Law. The student loans and scholarships were lined up. Registration was complete. An apartment and roommate were found. The moving truck was reserved. Specific plans were entirely in place.

At around 2:00, I got the piece of news I referenced in my last post--my new LSAT score. In that post I said I wasn't sure if it would help with UCLA. Again, I have proven that I should not pursue work as a psychic.

After a few annoying meetings at work, at around 4:00 I sent an email to the Dean of Admissions at UCLA to let them know about my updated score. At about 5:30, I got an email back from him stating that they would review my file and be in touch. At about 7:30 that evening, I was on the phone with said Dean of Admissions, doing a phone interview. At about 8:45 that evening, I was back on the phone, receiving an offer of admission to UCLA, a scant 5 1/2 hours after getting my new LSAT score.

To be brutally honest, it was not an automatic decision for me. Here I had on one hand a path that was already all figured out, sorted out, arranged: a known entity which with I had been coming to terms for several months now. On the other hand, this entirely unknown path was suddenly plunked down in front of me: a much bigger move; much farther from my friends and family, and from the city that will always be home, regardless of whether I ever live here again; a much different culture and way of life; heck, even a much different climate.

Over the course of a few days, I began to swim through the mix of emotions that surrounded this decision. Not just the scary differences, but also the exciting ones. Being so much closer to LT. Going to a very highly ranked school. Going to a school with so much specialization and support for public interest work. And, I began to realize that the primary thing guiding my initial reaction was fear of the unknown. If this had happened even a few weeks earlier, before I had found an apartment in Philly, it would've been a no-brainer.

I began to think back to my original desire to go out there. The differences and unknowns were part of the attraction, the desire to experience something new. They weren't bad, they were good! And yes, I remembered the painful disappointment LT and I felt when we first learned that I had been waitlisted even at Loyola Marymount, and would most likely be staying east. LT was with me when I opened that envelope from Loyola. We didn't even make it into my apartment for a while, we just sat in the hallway hugging each other.

So I decided to accept UCLA's offer, and that is where I am headed. It is a decision with which I have become progressively more comfortable, and as plans and arrangements have begun to solidify, the fear surrounding it is slowly but surely fading, leaving the genuine excitement I would have felt if this had been the path I had been on all along.

Is that drippy saccharine sweet or what? Well hang on, now here is where the story just starts to get gaudy.

The one downside to UCLA was cost. Temple was going to be pretty cheap, both because it is a cheaper school, and because I received a partial scholarship. UCLA was going to be more. Not prohibitively more, but considerably more.

That is, until LAST Thursday, July 10th (Thursday is quickly becoming my favorite day of the week), when I once again found myself on the phone with the Dean of Admissions at UCLA. This time I was being offered a giant bucket of merit scholarship money, in ADDITION to a much more modest need-based financial aid award. As a result, UCLA will probably cost less than Temple when all is said and done.

Seriously? This is the kind of crap that people write stories about. I mean, not specifically, because a story--even a short one--about emails and phone calls for law school admissions doesn't make for terribly gripping leisure reading. But you know what I mean. It is unreal.

So there you have it. I don't have everything exactly all lined up yet, but through some series of events my act is going to California to attend UCLA School of Law. Way back when I first started piecing together my plan of law school action, this was the ideal scenario I had envisioned. As events unfolded I got used to life with a different reality, so you'll have to forgive me if I'm still a little stunned that all the sudden, out of the blue, it actually happened.

And to top it all off, last Friday the Dean of Admissions at University of Virginia, ranked 10th in the country and which had also placed me on the waitlist, called and offered me a spot. I do have to wonder how many people who are offered a spot off the UVa waitlist actually turn them down.

Well Then...

Umm...

OK, so. Back in September I took the LSAT for the first time. I got a 162, which ranked in the 86th percentile, which was all very respectable, and all well and good. It wasn't enough to get me into the top schools on my list, but I got wait listed at UCLA and UVa, both very highly ranked schools, and got a scholarship offer from Temple.

While I was bummed that I didn't get into my top choice, UCLA, I had operated under the mistaken assumption that the September LSAT was the last one that would really do me any good for applications this year. I didn't realize until the enrollment deadlines had passed that the December, and even the February, dates could have been used.

After getting waitlisted at UCLA, I decided to retake the LSAT in June. I've since come to terms with going to Temple, and am looking forward to it, and see all the pluses it has (not the least of which is the MUCH lower tuition fee). But, it seemed worth the $130 exam fee to take another crack at it. And besides, there was also the minor issue of my pride, which wasn't too used to being in the 86th percentile. So I took the exam a few weeks ago, and while I felt good about it, I didn't have a good feel for just how well I had actually done--whether or not I did significantly better than the first time around.

Apparently, I should not pursue work as a psychic, because I just got my score today: 173, ranking in the 99th percentile.

I don't know if this will help with UCLA--seats off the waitlist are not a guarantee, even whether there will be openings. However, at least my pride is a little happier.

Batting .999 Is Disappointing

Yesterday I found out for the first time that one of my adoptions at PetCo turned out badly. Dewey, an adult male cat I adopted out, was returned to the shelter because the owner thought he cried too much and wanted too much attention. I didn't see the surrender questionnaire, but another volunteer at the shelter said it sounded like the guy just didn't realize that an animal needs attention.

Every adoption counselor there has stories of adoptions they did that didn't end well, and everyone knows that you can't catch everything, you can't foresee every problem. But still, I can't help but find myself straining to remember all the details about the adoption...were there warning signs I ignored? Did I not talk to the guy enough, get a good enough feel for his personality and what he thought having a pet entailed?

I know it's certainly not a worst-case scenario. Dewey is fine...it sounds like he was lonely for a little while at the guy's house, but he wasn't hurt, wasn't abused. But, you go through these adoptions and want so badly for each one to work out. You want each home you send them to to be a good one. In your mind, you know that it's just not possible to bat a thousand, but it's a pretty big bummer the first time you have irrefutable evidence that you're not.

R.I.P. George Carlin

George Carlin's name gets hijaked and wrongly attributed to a lot of callous, juvenile "punch lines", but he did indeed say this one. In a word....word.

I'm completely in favor of the separation of Church and State. My idea is that these two institutions screw us up enough on their own, so both of them together is certain death.
- George Carlin

Chick Peas - They're Neither Chicks, nor Peas. Discuss.

I'm getting the feeling that the next month or so would be a LOT easier if I could just quit my regular job now.

The move to Philly progresses. One big step seems to have been taken care of, in that I've found (hope hope) a good potential roomie. Which has a lot of plusses...personal comfort being the highest on there. Plus not having to figure out what to do with all my stuff, and not feeling completely like I'm a guest in someone else's home.

Wow, I just realized I'm not even writing in complete sentences at this point. Wahoo.

So now all I need is an apartment to move into. Details! Oh yeah, and a new computer. I found out last week that Temple's exam security software only runs on native Windows, and I'll be damned if I'm letting Windows gunk up my Mac. So yippee...off to find the cheapest laptop available that I think will last me three years. Because, y'know, I had an extra few hundred dollars I didn't really want anymore.

Really, I'm not as bitter as I sound. Just scatter-brained!

But hey, queers are getting married in California today!!! *happy dance*

Leda

I haven't posted in a while...no, it's not because I've been in mourning over the Pens. Honestly, any post-season where the boys manhandle the team that killed them last year, the Rangers, AND the Flyers...well, that's a fabulous post-season in my book.

I've run up against my first truly personally-heart-string-pulling case at PetCo this week, Leda. This poor girl was surrendered by people who had her for four years, "Because they had a baby." Not that she didn't like the baby, or was mean to it, or started peeing everywhere because of it, just that they had one. The sad part is that when they gave her up, they knew she was a shy cat, prone to being scared. Well, this poor girl has been absolutely terrified from day one with us. She doesn't have an ounce of mean in her, but she has plenty of scared.

She's starting to relax a little--when her cage door is closed and the store is quiet, she comes up to the door for all the loving you can give. But as soon as you open the door or try to pick her up, she panics. It's killing me. I wish there was some magic wand I could waive to let her know that she's safe...whatever she may have gone through to make her this way, she's safe now. Of all the great cats I've met in the few months I've worked there, this is the first one that has really made me wish I could take someone home. From day one when I picked her up and she let me trim her claws even though she was shaking like a leaf, she had me good. If there was any way humanly possible for me to get another cat, I'd do it in a heartbeat, but it's just out of the realm of possibility right now.

Sigh.

So...if anyone out there knows of someone who is kind and patient and would love to give this poor, terrified sweetheart a place where she will be safe and loved, send them this way!