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.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Saturday, October 25, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
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.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
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.
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.
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.
Monday, October 20, 2008
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.
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.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
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.
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.
Friday, October 10, 2008
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!
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!
Thursday, October 9, 2008
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!
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!
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
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.
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.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
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.
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.
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