winter reading

Picked up a pile of books at Borders the other day. Can't wait to snuggle in bed and plow through them.

Veronika Decide Morir (original Spanish language edition)by Paulo Coelho

Reefer Madness by Eric Schlosser

Aloft by Chang Rae Lee

Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason, by Helen Fielding

Infectious Greed, by Frank Partnoy

The Millionaire Mind by Thomas J. Stanley

Mrs. Dalloway, by Virginia Woolf

I PASSED!!!!!

thank you god. thank you, everyone, for your support, and for believing in me. thank you thank you thank you thank you.

clean sweep

The House. The Senate. Rummy leaving. I am so, so relieved--and for the first time in a long time, optimistic about the future of this country.

too much food network!

I have been cooking up a storm since I've been back.

Dinner last night:
Fish stew (tilapia, red snapper, clams, squid, veggies in a clam chowder, sauvignon blanc and creme fraiche base)
Butter and garlic pan seared giant scallops
Sourdough for dipping

Dinner tonight:
Tagliatelle bake with sweet italian sausage and ground turkey and four cheeses
Roasted fennel and carrots in herbs and shaved parmesan
Polenta, pan fried in garlic and then topped with shredded parmesan and baked until parmesan is crispy
Butternut squash soup, made from scratch (my friend Mat made this and it was delicious)!
Balsamic glazed raosted brussels sprouts
Columbia Crest Two Vines Shiraz

Here is the recipe for the Butternut squash soup, which is absolutely scrumptious.

BUTTERNUT SQUASH SOUP
1 Butternut Squash
1 whole head of garlic
Chicken stock
Olive Oil
Salt
Pepper
Nutmeg
Curry Powder

Cut squash into quarters, remove seeds and membrane. Rub with oil, salt, pepper, and a little curry powder and nutmeg. Wrap in foil. Cut top off of head of garlic, drizzle with oil, wrap in foil. Place squash and garlic on BBQ grill, close lid, and grill for about 40 minutes, or until squash is roasted and soft. Let cool a little. Remove from foil, scoop out squash and squeeze out garlic from casing. Puree in small batches in blender with chicken stock. Transfer to pot, re-heat, sprinkle some more nutmeg if desired. YUM!

Photo album is up!

Here it is, 101 photos of Central America. Click to view!

Central America, Summer 2006

Oct 10, 2006 - 101 Photos

Mayan temple, Tikal, Guatemala

That's me way at the bottom!  

The List, updated

Places I’ve been in the past five years, in no particular order (times in parenthesis if visited more than once):

Guatemala City
Antigua, Guatemala
Amatitlan
Jocotenango
San Jose, Costa Rica
Alajuela
Tortuguero
La Fortuna (Volcan Arenal)
Bocas Del Toro
Tikal
San Salvador
Granada, Nicaragua
Paris (3)
Lyon
Marseilles
Iles du Frioul
Cassis
Barcelona (2)
Mallorca
Cinque Terre (2)
Amsterdam (4)
Lisse
Siena
Prague (2)
Vienna (2)
Rome (2)
Venice (2)
Florence
Shanghai
Guangzhou
Hangzhou
Suzhou
Taipei
Kaoshuing
Hong Kong (3)
Macau
Bangkok
Phuket
Phi Phi
Ko Chang
Siem Reap (Angkor Wat)
Oahu
Vegas (10+)
Puerto Nuevo (6)
New York City

convento san francisco, antigua

  

back

i'm back! the flight was quite arduous (guatemala city to san jose, costa rica, overnight in san jose, san jose to miami, overnight in miami, miami to LAX). my body reacted by developing a large cold sore. i'm not leaving the house until it disappears.

Mouse has forgotten about me, and I am heartbroken. She seems to view me as an unwelcome extra presence in the house, a disruption to her blissful coexistence with my boyfriend. They curl up in bed together and cast hostile stares me way.

doorway, antigua

  

tal vez: perhaps

VIII. TAL VEZ...

Tal vez ya no le importa mi gemido
en el indiferente edén callado
en que el espíritu desencarnado
vive como dormido...
Tal vez ni sabe ya cómo he llorado
ni cómo he padecido.

En profundo quietismo,
su alma, que antes me amara de tal modo,
se desliza glacial por ese abismo
del eterno mutismo,
olvidada de sí, de mí, de todo...

- Amado Nervo (Chilean poet, 1870-1919)

mariposa negra

Last night while we were eating dinner, the duena (landlady) came to talk to my host mom. The corner convenience store had just been robbed. My roomates and I stared around the table at one another, frozen to our seats. The store is not 75 feet from where we were sitting, and we had heard nothing.

I thought about the night before, when I had walked there alone at 10:30pm, to buy apple juice. I remembered the bored-looking clerks, two of them, young men, who explained to me that one of the refrigerators was broken so if I wanted cold juice, I would have to buy apple, and not grape, as I had originally asked for. I thought about what could have happened if I had chosen to go a day later.

We briefly considered not going out that night, but decided to go dancing anyway. Spent the night dancing (or in my case, trying to dance) to salsa at a club called Casbah under the arch.

Today at lunch, Dona marta told us that there is a black trash bag tied to the door of hte store in the shape of a bow or butterfly. The clerk had not just been robbed--he had been shot dead.

It seems to wrong that at the exact moment I was sitting down at dinner, discussing where to go dancing that night, less than half a black away someones life was slipping away.

There are 200 violent attacks, mostly robberies and mostly in the capital, on the camionetas (chicken buses) every day. Every other day or two the newspapers fill up with the count of people who had been shot dead on the buses that day. Last friday, there were 12. Yet every afternoon, the buses roll by, packed to the gills with passengers and laden with luggage tied to the roof.

Don´t Move

Once in awhile I come across a book that grips me and doesn´t let go until I have stayed up all night with it, fell asleep clutching it with the lights on, cried into my sheet, and spent the whole next day reading very, very slowly for fear it will end. Don´t Move, by Margaret Mazzantini, is one of those books. It is incredibly graphic, vulgar, gripping, heart-rending and gorgeously written.

English language books sell at a premium here in Antigua, so it behoves me to trade my used copy of this book in for a discount on teh next book I buy. But I can´t. This one I´m lugging all the way home.

antigua

nine days left until i leave for san jose to connect to miami to connect to LAX.

over the weekend, my host mom took me to a Quincinera in a neighboring pueblo. The whole town seemed to be there, dancing and celebrating the coming of age of a striking young woman.

My roommate and I met a very friendly family with tons of rambunctious kids at the party, who invited us over the next day for lunch. We arrived Sunday morning and spent a good part of the day teaching the kids oragami. Nancy, the mother, is the same age as I am. She has 4 kids, three her own and one ridiculously cute baby girl that she and her husband adopted a month ago. they are such a happy family, and the parents are so full of love for each other and their children. the kids and parents take turns hugging and adoring the baby. all of them live in a 1 bedroom concrete house about 200 square feet in size, but what they lack in material wealth they more than make up for in an abundance of laughter and smiles.

lax to gua for $188

yes you read that correctly. LAX to Guatemala City, round trip, for $188. dates are december thru march. Check farecompare.com leaving from LAX and you will find it...at least until it runs out. this is so cheap it makes me want to....oh wait....yes.... i´m already IN guatemala.


Update: Deal is no longer available. Sigh.

comida guatemalteco

i love guatemalan food. love. it.

i don´t know what all the dishes are called, but they are delicious! there is a lot of rice, so i don´t miss chinese food as much as i thought i would.

my host mom doesn´t need to spend that much money on the food she feeds us, but she takes pride in her cooking, and for good reason. other students are not fed meat every day, since their families scrimp on food in order to keep more of the money we pay them. but not marta. she feeds me heaps of meat, usually 3 times a day.

this morning i had pancakes with papaya, banana, watermelon, melon and pineapple for breakfast. for lunch i had pepion, a typical guatemalteco dish with chicken in a spicy chile puree over rice. i cannot wait to see what´s for dinner!

i am attending a salsa & merengue dance class this afternoon. tomorrow i am visiting a macadamia farm, wednesday i am taking a bike tour of the city, and later this week i am visiting a coffee plantation. the cost of all activities, 4 hours of private one on one spanish instruction per day, lodging in an adorable house, and 3 meals a day is $165. that´s less than i would spend per week if i were living in san diego and eating cheap food every day. i will really miss it here when i leave in 3 weeks.

A wise pronouncement

A few days ago I was sitting in a cigar and wine cafe in Antigua, waiting for J to buy a cigar for her boyfriend, when I picked up a random paper and saw the poem ¨For Instances¨ by Jorge Luis Borges.

There was a very, very old man sitting near the entrance of the cafe, by the street, having a glass of wine. I struck up a conversation with him. His name is Peter, and unapologetically, with a friendly smile and a sometimes distant gaze, he told me about his life.

I was born in Germany many years ago. I used to write Nazi propaganda for the government. I fought in the Nazi army in WWII, and in the American army in the Korean War. I was Paris´s first hippie, camping for a year in a park there with two girlfriends. Inexplicably, after Paris I went to the states and spent a year at Brigham Young University. I am not Mormon, but many people there tried to convert me (chuckles). After that I returned to Germany and completed law school. I ended up running for office in Germany, and spent the rest of my life until retirement as a politician. I have been many places in this world, and here, Antigua...this is my last place.

I passed Peter the Borges poem and asked him what he thought of it. I asked him, is this true?

Peter replied,
Well, I am old enough now to be able to make wise pronouncements about life. Yes, this poem is true. But I have something to add. You are young, and I want to give you advice, and it is this: Travel as much as you possibly can, all over the world, and make sure you do it while you are young. Because when you are old, traveling to certain places is no longer feasible.
And in 20 years, K, when you have traveled the world and return to California, you will meet some of your friends who had never left, and you will realize that they are lacking something.
It is so important to travel. Make it a goal of yours to live for a year or two in another country and to see as much as you can of different people and experience different cultures. Not so that you can see different things and discover different things--but so that in doing so you will find yourself.

Peter is obviously not a Nazi any longer. When he talked about his time as a Nazi, his eyes showed what i imagined to be a sort of surprised amusement at how far he had come. There was no remorse, as if he knew what he did was wrong but had come to terms with it long, long ago. He was telling me how much he loved Shanghai, and he was incredibly warm and kind to me.

Sometimes I doubt whether traveling so much is a good idea. Not often, just sometimes. But were it not for my decision to travel, I would never have been there, on a street cafe speaking with a man nearing the end of his life, who had come here to die, and who wanted to tell me how important it is to keep seeing the world. It´s the little magic moments like this one that keep me moving.

For Instances

If I could I would live my life over.
This time I would try to make more mistakes.
I would try not to be so perfect, I would laugh more.
I would be so much sillier than I have been
that I would take few things seriously.
I would be less hygienic.
I would risk more, take more trips, contemplate
more sunsets, climb more mountains, ford more streams.
I would go to more places I have never been.
I would eat more ice cream and fewer beans.
I would have more real problems
and fewer imaginary ones.

I was one of those people who lived every minute of life
sensibly and productively. Of course I had moments of delight.
But if I were able to go back it would be
for good moments only.
Because, if you don't know it, that's what life's made of: moments.
Do not waste even this one.

I was a guy who never went anywhere without a thermometer,
a hot water bottle, an umbrella, and a poncho.
If I could live my life again I would travel more lightly.

If I could live again I would start going barefoot
when spring comes and not stop till fall's long gone.
I would walk down more side streets, contemplate more dawns,
and play with more children, if I had my life ahead of me again.
But, come now. I am 85 years old. I know I am dying.

bocas del toro

I'm in paradise. I'm staying at 4 bedroom hotel built on stilts over the water. I can look through the floorboards and see the turquoise water below, clear through to the bottom where lots of starfish hang around. Colorful fish of all kinds swim by the hammock hanging off of our hotel room's deck. The water is warm.

Yesterday while snorkeling I was stung five times by jellyfish, once in the face. We exact vengeance by poking the jellyfish, which causes them to splay out and tumble away in a hilarious state if disarray, tentacles flying in every which direction.

san jose

we decided to stay up all night in order to make it on to the 6:15 am bus to La Fortuna. Hot springs and an active volcano await, but for now I am trying not to fall asleep.

It is amazing how gross one can feel after a long bus ride. It's not like the bus was dirty or anything, but I still feel grimy at the end of it.

TicaBus, the bus company we have been using to travel around Central America, is an excellent company. The seats are comfortable, they show recent, if somewhat cheesy, movies, and they are very well-organized. It is shocking how much inter-country flights cost in Central America. A one-way ticket from San Jose to Guatemala City can cost $400 if you buy it at the wrong time. That's insane, considering the small distance covered by the flight. There are also no inter-country freeways, so buses take forever to get from one point to another.

tikal

I wake up at 3:30am to hike through the pitch-black jungle. all i can see is the person directly in front of me. i stunble over rocks and roots and slide around in mud. all i hear around me is the sound of insects, some fluttering by, some buzzing, and occasionally a gross crunching noise, which i suppose is one of the three inch long grubs with black heads that are all over the jungle floor. i live in fear of running into a spider web, as the spiders here are two to two and a half inches in diameter and are all sorts of bright orange and red colors. they look positively menacing.

As we progress further into the jungle, terrifying growling screaming noises start coming from the treetops. Howler monkeys. These things sound like a monster out of a horror movie--the screams they make in no way resemble what i previously thought monkeys would sound like.

our hike takes us to the base of Temple IV at Tikal, where I climb 230 feet to the top and sit silently, waiting for the dawn. all around me circles the chirping of insects and howling of monkeys. I can see nothing.

as the sky begins to lighten, the noise in the jungle gets louder, and all kinds of birds start chirping at once. i can barely make out the shifting veil of fog that surrounded the trees below. Temple IV is so tall that its top, where I am sitting, is above the canopy level of the jungle.

i watch as the sky lightens even more and the trees all around me start becoming visible. the mist shifting through the trees is breathtaking. what other place could have served as the scene of the rebel base camp in star wars?

i am suddenly aware of how very, very far i am from home.

antigua dreamin

arrived this morning and already in love with the place. cobblestone streets, little cupolas with fountains, candlelight, vines climbing up crumbling walls, brightly painted houses with the most amazing huge wooden doors. a massive volcano as the backdrop.

the hotel i am staying at, meson panza verde, seems like it came straight out of some wonderful honeymoon commercial. absolutely gorgeous. our room opens up into a courtyard with stones set into the moss and a beautiful fountain with vines climbing up it, that is lit with candles at night. we have our own private butterfly and flower filled garden. our room has its own cute little fireplace that looks like an oven. the hotel is full of little nooks and crannies, and semi'secret winding staircases which lead up to an art gallery upstairs where you can swing in a hammock, and then take a small staircase up to the roof where there is a rose garden and an awesome view of the volcano beyond and city below. one of the best restaurants in the city is at this hotel. we have reservations next to the reflecting pool in one hour. i can´t believe this place has no corkage fee. accordingly, we have stocked up on chilean wine.

gonna wander around central park and peek into an old church now.

ciao!

granada, granada

arived 2 days ago via bus, and almost checked into a beautiful hotel called El Club. Luckily they were full that night, because although beautiful, we were soon to find out that for the next 2 days, El Club would transform at night into..well..a club, complete with 6 foot speakers and thumping house music. Eardrum splitting beats in a tranquil garden setting...not our idea of a romantic retreat. we ended up getting a room at this adorable little spanish style house with an open air garden.

We had no idea that, by some stroke of incredible luck, we had arrived on one of the biggest party days of the year in Granada-- the Hipica festival! The first night we were there, we found our way to central park, where there were vendors and a free rock concert from a local band from Managua. The entire town seemed to be out grooving to the rock concert (which was a Nicaraguan Rock the Vote for the upcoming Nov 5th Presidential election). Even old ladies and small children were out dancing!


The people here are so, so friendly. They sit around in rocking chairs outside their front doors, and smile and say ¨buenas!¨whenever we walk by. The same old shirtless man across the street tips his hat at me every time we pass by. Everyone stares at us, probably because we are the only asian people in town. Several kids have come up to us to pinch us and touch us, as if to see if we´re real.

Imagine my glee at actually finding a restaurant named Macondo, with a passage from One Hundred Years of Solitude printed on the front of the menu! After my own heart, these people.

Sunday, the day of the Hipica parade, was insane. more later as teh internet cafe is closing.

buenos!

that's hi in costa rican.

T and i just wandered down a coblestoned street to a small, adorably decorated retaurant with local artwork on the walls and a cool carribean band with a guy playing a gut-bucket and another one singing bob marley covers.

I ordered the queso fundido, not knowing anything about it except that somewhere in my mind i remembered it was supposed to be good--and discovered that queso fundido is FONDUE!!! thank you god. there is nothing like fondue and a glass of good red wine on a summer evening with a light drizzle outside and live music inside. everyone in the restaurant seemed to be old friends except for us.

a puttpeteer/ventriloquist came out to tell a heart -warming story about how the soul of a poet resides in his heart, the sould of a writer resides in his imagination, but the soul of a dancer resides in her entire body, and lights up the starless night with its beauty.

i'm understanding more spanish than i thought i would!

the joy of doing nothing

i woke up at 8:30 this morning, made scranbled eggs, bacon and waffles for my bf before he went to work. then sat around reading until noon, ate leftover thai green curry and thai chicken wings with a mango lassi for lunch, read for a few more hours, fell asleep hugging the cat until 6pm. cooked a dinner of mahi-mahi and giant sea scallops in a cuban mojito simmer sauce. washed it down with a stella artois. ice cream sandwich for dessert.

doing nothing is great!!

warhol at the sdma

summer reading list, part 1

today i'm meeting up with j to go to the warhol exhibit at the san diego museum of art. then we'll wander around hillcrest, have some yummy food and browse around some independent bookstores.

i went to borders and picked up the following books to consume during the next week or so:

The Devil Wears Prada by Lauren Weisberger
I'm starting out with this one because after the bar, my brain recoils from anything requiring more than minimal processing ability. So far, it's entertaining, funny and sometimes even witty, and requires no mental capacity whatsoever--everything a summer beach read should be.

The Mortocycle Diaries by Che Guevara
I had no idea until yesterday that this book was actually written Che Guevara. I always thought it was some sort of historical fiction. He's an awesome writer, too. Can't wait to start on this one.

The Know-It-All by A.J. Jacobs
"One Man's Humble Quest to become the Smartest Person in the World."
Hilarious nonfiction. A.J. Jacobs, an NPR contributor, chronicles his quest to read the Encyclopedia Britannica from A to Z. I've always wanted to do that! But I guess I'll just settle with reading this book.
Sidenote: The back cover says something about how astounding reading the whole Encyclopedia Brittanica is, because it's 33,000 pages long. I stopped and thought that I've read more than 33,000 pages these past 3 years in law school, and how much more enlightened (and less in debt!) I'd be if I had just spent the 3 years reading the encyclopedia instead of law textbooks. Okay I'm depressed now.

Blindness by Jose Saramago
Winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature. Oh, the allegorical loveliness of it all!
Blurb from Amazon: In an unnamed city in an unnamed country, a man sitting in his car waiting for a traffic light to change is suddenly struck blind. But instead of being plunged into darkness, this man sees everything white, as if he "were caught in a mist or had fallen into a milky sea." A Good Samaritan offers to drive him home (and later steals his car); his wife takes him by taxi to a nearby eye clinic where they are ushered past other patients into the doctor's office. Within a day the man's wife, the taxi driver, the doctor and his patients, and the car thief have all succumbed to blindness. As the epidemic spreads, the government panics and begins quarantining victims in an abandoned mental asylum--guarded by soldiers with orders to shoot anyone who tries to escape.
In this community of blind people there is still one set of functioning eyes: the doctor's wife has affected blindness in order to accompany her husband to the asylum. As the number of victims grows and the asylum becomes overcrowded, systems begin to break down: toilets back up, food deliveries become sporadic; there is no medical treatment for the sick and no proper way to bury the dead. Inevitably, social conventions begin to crumble as well, with one group of blind inmates taking control of the dwindling food supply and using it to exploit the others. Through it all, the doctor's wife does her best to protect her little band of blind charges, eventually leading them out of the hospital and back into the horribly changed landscape of the city."

Fascinating, no? I heard of this from a Law and Literature class I took a few years back.

I'm done!

The bar exam was three days of hell. HELL.

The minute it was over I went and got trashed and became a very angry drunk. Then I went to Mexico and got food poisoning, yay!

17 days until Costa Rica. Can't wait!

my hero!!!!!

Where the hell is Matt?

I love it I love it I love it!!!!!

spam hash brown bake

I have no idea why I love SPAM. I haven't let myself eat SPAM in years.

My brain tells me SPAM is evil, but my taste buds tell me to bake it with fried potatoes and sour cream and onions and smother it in cheese and cream of chicken soup, and sprinkle potato chips on top.

I'll never make this recipe, ever, because I feel like my arteries are going to burst just reading the recipe. At 53 grams of fat and 705 calories per serving, this would kill me. Because I'd probably sit down and eat the entire thing. By myself. And then spend the rest of the afternoon being very disgusted with myself.

Ingredients (Makes 8 servings)
1 (32-ounce) package frozen hash brown potatoes, thawed slightly
1/2 cup butter or margarine, melted
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
2 cups (8 ounces) shredded Cheddar cheese
1 (12-ounce) can SPAM® Classic, cubed
1 (10-3/4-ounce) can cream of chicken soup
1-1/2 cups sour cream
1/2 cup milk
1/2 cup chopped onion
1 (4.25-ounce) can CHI-CHI'S® Diced Green Chilies, drained
2 cups crushed potato chips

Heat oven to 350°F. In large bowl, combine potatoes, melted butter, salt, pepper and garlic powder. In separate large bowl, combine cheese, SPAM®, soup, sour cream, milk, onion and green chilies. Add SPAM™ mixture to potato mixture; mix well. Pour into 2-quart baking dish. Sprinkle with potato chips. Bake 45 to 60 minutes or until thoroughly heated.

i said, we live in a bubble.

whew! just finished writing a monster response to a 1-line comment that i decided belongs on the blog proper, as opposed to being allowed to linger in the comments section. Anonymous's* post was in response to my post titled "we live in a bubble."

*grammar nerd alert--I do believe it is "Anonymous's" as opposed to "Anonymous' ," as, with very few exceptions, proper nouns ending in "s" are expressed in the possessive by using an apostrophe and another "s," a notable exception being any reference to Jesus, where you would write "Jesus' " BUT only when referring to Jesus Christ. Your friend Jesus who is not the Son of God would still be be "Jesus's." Interesting eh? Grammar debate, anyone?....anyone?*

#

At 2:59 PM, Anonymous said…

You mean, “I live in a bubble”. Take some responsibility for your ignorance!

#

At 7:18 PM, K said…

Hm.

By "we live in a bubble," I meant that it's oftentimes hard for me to believe, even though I hear of it on the radio or read it in the news, that the atrocities that happen outside the US are real. Because though I see it on TV, it doesn't affect my life in any tangible way, except maybe paying a few more bucks at the gas station.

When I look out my window, I see palm trees and ocean. When people like BEYFlyer (mentioned in the post below) look out their window, they see the shit being bombed out of Beiruit airport.

It was not until I visited the minefields of Cambodia that I saw beggars with their limbs hanging off them in stumps, and Pol-Pot's regime became something a little more real than a lead pencil smudge on a history test. It wasn't until I spent thousands of hours volunteering for immigrant farmers in Mexico, generations of whom live their entire lives in cardboard shacks, that I realized the true cost of my salad veggies.

The "bubble" is the very sad fact that if I stopped reading certain news websites, and stopped listening to certain radio stations, and stopped travelling...I simply wouldn't find out about the atrocities that happen each and every single day to the majority of the population of this world.

Do you disagree?

As an American, I have the ability to choose between seeking information about the "outside," or simply ignoring it--and it makes me so concerned that some people choose to ignore.

I've had more than a few people ask me why I care about what happens outside this country...and why I bother to ever leave the US. I think it's a tragedy that it's not uncommon for people in this country to think this way.

One law student whom a lot of us at school know famously quoted: "why would I ever need to subscribe to and read TIME, or The Economist, or Newsweek? I'm not ugly! Only ugly people need to read those things." Sigh.

Maybe you do live in a war-torn area, in which case, you have every right to say I, as opposed to "we," live in a bubble. Because I, and a lot of other people in this country, do. But if you live in the US--wouldn't you agree that this place sometimes resembles Truman's world?

Hey, not that I'm complaining about living in a safe place. Just that--the more I read, the more I'm convinced America is this little island of ignorance in a sea of suffering people who for the most part hate our guts. Wouldn't a synonym for that be...bubble? Just travel anywhere else in the world--anywhere!--and ask the locals what they think about our government.

I should add that my comment about not reading the news or listening to NPR anymore was totally in jest. As all who know me can attest, I'm quite the international affairs junkie. Law school puts that on the back burner sometimes, but it's certainly one of my loves in life.

Ignorance is something that happens when you close yourself to the world, and to the opinions of others. I try my best not to do that.

Glad you stopped by to read, but surprised you'd come to such a hasty judgment.
-K

johns hopkins gives a bunch of shrooms to a group of smart people...enlightenment ensues

Wall Street Journal article:
In a study that could revive interest in researching the effects of psychedelic drugs, scientists said a substance in certain mushrooms induced powerful, mind-altering experiences among a group of well-educated, middle-age men and women.


really??? who knew!

multicolored undulating hat tip to tony for the link.

we live in a bubble

i should stop listening to NPR or reading the news. It's too depressing.

did i mention that the summer after my first year in law school, one of my assignments for my summer internship was to write an executive memo on the then-recent International Court of Justice's ruling on the Israeli-Palestinian separation barrier? I remember reading the news then, and thinking...things are so bad, they have to get better soon. No such luck.

Here are some interesting facts:

-Hizbollah and Israel have been playing the "kidnap each other's soldiers" game for years. This latest incident, however, was the first time Hizbollah had crossed into Israeli territory to kidnap the soldiers. Source: NPR this morning

-Since Palestinans elected Hamas to lead them several months ago, Israel has been bombing Palestinan-controlled areas regularly. See here, here and here.... et cetera.

-People are still being massacred in Iraq. Baghdad Burning writes all about it.

two sides of the coin

Captivating forum thread on the current hostilities between Israel and Lebanon. Truly a must-read.

The two main posters on this thread, BEYFlyer and Dovster, live in Beiruit and Northern Israel.

The fact that their discussion remains friendly is so inspiring.

If there is to be peace in the Middle East, we're going to need more people like these two.

Some recent posts:

BEYFlyer, from Beiruit, 2:34 am today:
The terror continues even here in the mountains. Last night was really rough on all of us. About 30 minutes after my last post, IAF raided a Lebabese army base not far from where we are. In total, there were about 8 raids spread over a period of 45 minutes. We headed down and into the lowest lying room in the house hoping for some protection. The kids were a mess and so were we to be honest. Throughout all of this alex0683de was sending me SMS messages trying to keep me "occupied". I appreciate you staying up with me and allowing me to breathe a breath of fresh air every now and then.

Again, I must ask the question, if Israel wants Lebanon to deploy its army in the South, why oh why oh why are they constantly bombing Lebanese army bases and killing hundreds of

Lebanese soldiers??? Does this make any sense to anyone? Please if there are any ex-military folks out there who can shed some light on the matter and explain the startegy behind such attacks, please feel free to add your comments.

One has no choice but to start wondering what is Israel's motive behind all of this. This has gone too far and is now clearly in the "absurd" category... There is no safe place left in Lebanon and it seems we are all now legitimate targets.

Dovster for both of our sakes, I hope this insanity ends soon. Take care and stay safe.


Dovster, from Israel:
BEYFlyer, I can only give you a partial answer -- and that is in regards to the IDF strikes on the Lebanese Army radar stations along the coast.

It was reported on Israeli television that the Lebanese Army radar had given Hizbollah tracking information which allowed it to shoot the missiles at the Israeli naval ships.

As for the rest of what you asked, I have two points/questions:

1. Are you certain about that number -- "hundreds of Lebanese soldiers"? I have not heard any estimates anywhere near that high.

2. Israelis, too, are asking why the Lebanese Army is being attacked. I have heard several television commentators wondering about that.

I remember that during the 1982 war (which others here might not know was fought in Lebanon but against the PLO, not the Lebanese Army) one Lebanese tank fired a single, symbolic, shot at the IDF and the Israelis were ordered not to return fire.

That was the only shooting between Israel and Lebanon in 1982. You are right -- Israel is demanding that the Lebanese Army take up positions in South Lebanon, guarding the border, and a war against that Army can only make this more difficult.

There may be military reasons (such as what I discussed about the radar stations) but if there are, they have not been made public here and it is causing quite a few Israelis to be unhappy with this development.

Meanwhile, on the Northern Front (for me) and the Southern Front (for you), all is not quiet.

As you undoubtedly have heard, Hizbollah has been firing 70 to 100 missiles daily at Israeli cities, towns, and villages. In return, there are literally thousands of artillery rounds being sent northward by Israel daily.

Sometimes I feel that I can hear every single one of these from my house. Logically, I know that is impossible but the shooting seems almost relentless.

at 2:39pm today:
The shooting started up again a few minutes ago, this time on a big enough scale that my house started shaking.

Seeing as we are on top of a mountain, I wonder if this means that I have moved to Ohio and am now in Shaker Heights.

Anyhow, whatever else it means, it definitely is telling me I should go to bed in my bomb shelter, so good night to all.

jus sanguinis

I can't believe this case was decided by the Supreme Court. In 2001.
Nguyen v. INS

Petitioner is a convicted child sex offenderand aggravated felon. I know, he's slime. But how does this make ANY sense:

-Petitioner's father is a US citizen. Petitioner's mother is a Vietnamese citizen. Petitioner was born out of wedlock, out of the US. Father took Petitioner to the US when Petitioner was 5,and Petitioner became a legal permanent resident of the US when he was 6. So, he spent pretty much his entire life here. His father raised him in the US.
-The USSC ruled that Petitiner is deportable.

That's not what makes me mad. What gets me is the USSC confirms that if it were his MOTHER who was the US citizen, and it was the FATHER who was the Vietnamese citizen--THEN, he wouldn't be deportable! USSC says this doesn't violate Equal Protection.

So let me get this straight: American men can run around and knock up girls abroad, out of wedlock. As long as they don't bring the pregnant girlfriend home with them to the US, the resultant children have less rights than if a woman does the exact same thing.

Oversimplification? Of course. I don't have time for an in-depth analysis of their opinion--I'm studying for the bar. Rights of children born out of wedlock out of the country are not tested on the bar. But here's a lovely quote:
"One concern in this context has always been with young people, men for the most part, who are on duty with the Armed Forces in foreign countries. See Department of Defense, Selected Manpower Statistics 48, 74 (1999) (reporting that in 1969, the year in which Nguyen was born, there were 3,458,072 active duty military personnel, 39,506 of whom were female); Department of Defense, Selected Manpower Statistics 29 (1970) (noting that 1,041,094 military personnel were stationed in foreign countries in 1969); Department of Defense, Selected Manpower Statistics 49, 76 (1999) (reporting that in 1999 there were 1,385,703 active duty military personnel, 200,287 of whom were female); id., at 33 (noting that 252,763 military personnel were stationed in foreign countries in 1999)."

Um, all these statistics are supposed to make me think what? Oh yeah, that there are probably a very large number of children who were left behind in that war and who have no rights because it was the father, not the mother, who was a US citizen.

The dissent (O'Connor, Ginsburg, Souter, Breyer) brings up some very interesting points. Points I don't have time to think about anymore because I need to memorize bar exam law, and iron out this wrinkle I just put in my brain about Equal Protection.

listening to: sierra maestra

I know the lyrics may be sappy, but this song is incredibly beautiful...amazing guitar and trumpet work. Too bad I'm studying for the bar instead of hanging around in some cuban cafe.

Son para ti, by Sierra Maestra

Pues que empiezo a comprender
que te lleva volvir
Desde que supe distinguir
entre amor y mujer
Desde que pude valorar
entre mis bolas de jugar y un beso
Y al cabo de tanto besar
Atrás me encuentro yo
Un parto el centro de mi juventud
con el final de tu ninez
Son dos etapas que a lasar
se unieron para derrotar al tiempo

Ensena me,
mujer del hechizero navegar

La senda que me lleva
hasta tu cuerpo (amor)

y haz me sentir
con el contacto suave de tu piel
que nuestro amor
supo vencer al tiempo

Y busca me
cuando la tarde pierda su esplendor

cuando tenga la noche entre mis brazos

y en el lugar
que allá en la oscuridad nos ocultó
suspirarás desde el primer abrazo

i used to like the idea of law...

An essay I wrote on WH Auden's poem:

W. H. Auden
Law Like Love
Law, say the gardeners, is the sun,
Law is the one
All gardeners obey
To-morrow, yesterday, to-day.

Law is the wisdom of the old,
The impotent grandfathers feebly scold;
The grandchildren put out a treble tongue,
Law is the senses of the young.

Law, says the priest with a priestly look,
Expounding to an unpriestly people,
Law is the words in my priestly book,
Law is my pulpit and my steeple.

Law, says the judge as he looks down his nose,
Speaking clearly and most severely,
Law is as I've told you before,
Law is as you know I suppose,
Law is but let me explain it once more,
Law is The Law.

Yet law-abiding scholars write:
Law is neither wrong nor right,
Law is only crimes
Punished by places and by times,
Law is the clothes men wear
Anytime, anywhere,
Law is Good morning and Good night.

Others say, Law is our Fate;
Others say, Law is our State;
Others say, others say
Law is no more,
Law has gone away.

And always the loud angry crowd,
Very angry and very loud,
Law is We,
And always the soft idiot softly Me.

If we, dear, know we know no more
Than they about the Law,
If I no more than you
Know what we should and should not do
Except that all agree
Gladly or miserably
That the Law is
And that all know this
If therefore thinking it absurd
To identify Law with some other word,
Unlike so many men
I cannot say Law is again,

No more than they can we suppress
The universal wish to guess
Or slip out of our own position
Into an unconcerned condition.
Although I can at least confine
Your vanity and mine
To stating timidly
A timid similarity,
We shall boast anyvay:
Like love I say.

Like love we don't know where or why,
Like love we can't compel or fly,
Like love we often weep,
Like love we seldom keep.

Dichotomy and Poetic Mechanisms in Auden’s Law Like Love
By: K

W.H. Auden’s poem Law Like Love presents an age-old quandary: how does one define the indefinable? Is the definition of law reached through an evaluation of what law means in one’s life, or is it a definition existing in and of itself—a universal constant? Auden illustrates diverging ideas of, and approaches toward, the law by presenting a series of multi-layered conflicts. The juxtapositions in Law Like Love are at once extremely apparent, as in the substantive argument of the definition of law; and astonishingly subtle, as evidenced in the poem’s more nuanced philosophical, structural and metamorphic dichotomies. While the major thrust of argument is immediately apparent, the more subtle cues layer upon each other, coming together in a crescendo at the end of the poem, when the reader is revealed the outcome of the poem’s journey—a passage from the concept of law as metaphor to law as simile. In defining law as a relational concept, Auden provides a valuable insight into the process of semantics, and the evolution of concepts and ideas from dichotomies into cohesive principles.

Auden introduces a menagerie of characters, consisting of normal members of society that most people deal with at some point in their lives—the gardener, grandfather, grandchildren, judge, scholar, and unidentified “others.” It is interesting that each group’s concept of law centers on the important things in that person’s life. For the gardener, law is the sun—for the old it is their wisdom for the priest, his pulpit. What the reader ultimately comes away with after reading the first seven stanzas is that each group has its own conception of what the law is. These statements are made assertively—they leave little if no room for argument. The definitions each of the groups attribute to the law are categorical, and often, as is the case with the grandfathers and grandchildren, in conflict with one another. “Others” even claim, just as assertively as the rest, that “law is no more, law has gone away.” The personification of the law as something possessed and internalized on a personal level is further emphasized in the seventh stanza: the crowd always says “law is we,” while the idiot always says, “Me.” The characters in the first seven stanzas consistently take on views of the law that are inconsistent with others’ views.

On a philosophical level, the conflict in the first seven stanzas accentuate the poem’s theme of legal positivism versus natural law. Positivist philosophers like Jeremy Bentham and John Austin argued that the existence and content of law depends on social facts and not on its merits. Legal positivism is often contrasted with legal naturalism, which centers on the idea that the existence and content of law derives from moral concerns. While positivists focus on the relationship of ideas to one another, naturalists focus on the underlying purpose or meaning of ideas. Austen seems to assert through the structure of the poem that legal naturalism gives way to positivism. The Gardeners’, Grandfathers’, grandchildren’s, and priest’s arguments set forth the naturalistic view of law as innate, something that bears no relation to extrinsic facts. However, in the end Law Like Love is decidedly positivist—the poem is an exercise in of contrasts and conflicting viewpoints. Every character in the poem has their own view of what the law is. The undercurrent of legal positivism serves as a base for the substantive and structural conflicts of the poem.

The multiple dichotomies of the poem are reflected in the interchangeability of words and the antonymic nature of word-pairs. First, it is readily apparent that the words “law and “love” are interchangeable throughout the poem. This supports the conclusion that law and love are indeed similar, and analogous in their indefinable nature. The synonymous positioning of the words “law” and “love,” viewed alongside the glaringly antagonistic word choice, further accentuates the poem’s pervasive sense of conflict. Words are positioned against each other in pairs of antonyms throughout the poem: old and young, priestly and unpriestly, wrong and right, loud and soft, gladly and miserably. These words create a tension that pulls at the reader and causes a sense of uncertainty—which is the correct view? As it turns out, the characters in the first seven stanzas seem to have it all wrong about law.

The futility of the characters’ effort to understand is illuminated by the fiercely dissonant views each group takes, and the fact that they don’t seem to be listening to one another. The grandfathers “shrilly scold,” but the grandchildren don’t seem to listen. The judge offers a mundane explanation that the law is “the law,” a severe admonition likely to serve no use whatsoever. The scholars write that “law is neither wrong nor right,” yet they themselves obey the law.

The aspect that most elucidates Auden’s view of the law is the poem’s mechanics, which are incredibly nuanced. Auden constructs in Law Like Love a poem that denotes disequilibrium and resolution through its rhythm and structure alone, without ever needing to examine or interpret substance. The difference in the cadence of the first seven stanzas, and the last two, is glaringly obvious, but a closer analysis reveals an even greater contrast. Out of thirty-four lines in the first seven stanzas, only seven lines begin with unstressed syllables, and out of the twelve lines in the eighth stanza, all but one (or arguably two) lines begin with unstressed syllables. In the final stanza, each line begins with an unstressed syllable. Further, while the reader can comfortably pause at the end of each line in the first seven stanzas, the eighth stanza begins a pattern of enjambed lines--a clear shift in rhythm. Additionally, the eighth stanza is the point at which the narration shifts from third person to first person. The final stanza is the most tidy, consisting of twin couplets in perfect iambic meter, taking on a formality and cohesiveness absent from all prior stanzas. The shifts in rhyme, structure and meter alone, not even taking into account the meaning of the words, indicate a discord and final accord. Auden’s poem is a journey from rhythm that breaks into an unsteady cant, to an even more steady rhythm. The final stanza is constructed of iambs that have the cadence of a heartbeat, indicating steadiness, conclusion, equilibrium.

The structure of the poem serves beautifully to complement its substantive transition. Auden takes the reader from the concept of law as metaphor to simile. This change is explained in the eighth stanza: “No more than they can we suppress/ The universal wish to guess/ Or slip out of our own position/ Into an unconcerned condition.” The assertion is that the speaker can either guess or slip—If he does not guess, then he concedes that the law is and thus, arriving at a conclusion similar to the characters in the first seven stanzas, ceases to become concerned. The ultimate crux of conflict in the poem is the quandary of what to do when he perceives he must take a point, yield to the “universal wish to guess,” that is not suppressible, yet somehow in so doing avoid losing concern over the matter. The speaker’s solution is to change the concept of assertion from “Law is” to “Law like” – a movement from metaphor to simile. The law cannot be defined by a metaphor, as the law is all things to all people. The speaker seeks instead to define what the law is like. He recognizes that he needs to guess because he can’t suppress the urge to do so, yet he is wary of the danger that guessing could lead him to slip into unconcern over the matter. He realizes that the danger of becoming unconcerned doesn’t mean that he needs to try to label something that cannot be labeled. He does take a stand, and it is that law, like love, is indefinable as a metaphor—the law can never be consistent, it is always changing. It is a living thing, different with each judicial decision and each new statute. The concept of law in the poem is ever-changing, and evolves as the poem evolves.

By asserting that law is defined more as a similarity or likeness of something, rather than a personification or embodiment of its perceiver, Auden recognizes that the law is all things to all people—and that law can never be consistent. By taking a step backwards and looking at the law from a wider angle, Auden reveals the astonishing point that a change in perspective can shed light on a previously incomprehensible problem. Just as the speaker takes a step back to review the concept of law, a step back from the substantive barrage of conflicts in the poem reveals a structure that indicates a clear resolution. Auden’s portrait of law as a likeness, a simile, is both astute and appropriate, as like love, law can never fully be explained.

Who would give a law to lovers? Love is unto itself a higher law.
~Boethius, The Consolation of Philosophy, A.D. 524

horoscope

i spent the entire day studying in the "super-quiet zone" of ucsd's geisel library, and then doing practice essays in my living room. and then i checked my horoscope and it says this:

Watch your step today, for you can be so fascinated by someone nearby that your powers of discrimination are weakened. It may not be as wonderful as it all seems. Beauty is truly in the eyes of the beholder and you are susceptible now because you are in touch with the magic of your own inner world. You'll come out okay if you remember that you are being seduced by your own desire for pleasure, and not by whatever is on the outside.

apparently the other aries of the world are having a fun, passionate time with intriguing beautiful strangers.

horoscopes suck.

Animaniacs - Yakko's World (with lyrics)

I have had this song stuck in my head for weeks.

United States, Canada, Mexico, Panama.....

 

Coconuts, Puerto Nuevo 

Book Review:

I've been reading The Omivore's Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals, by Michael Pollan (nonfiction). Just a chapter or two each day before bed, to help assuage the monotony caused by increasingly large amounts of useless law swimming around in my head.

Sadly, I'm very dissapointed. Pollan's latest book is nothing like his brilliant first book, The Botany of Desire. The Omnivores Dilemma poses a very intriguing question: What should we eat? Pollan seeks to answer this question by following four meals from their origin (in farms, factories, et cetera) to the moment they are consumed by a human. It reads like a high-brow Fast Food Nation, less sensational, more philosophical, and at times very boring. Which is sad, because Pollan is such a talented writer.

I'm still trying to finish The Omnivore's Dilemma, but Pablo Neruda: Selected Poems seems more enticing lately. It's a good book to keep around and read during a study break.

just kill me now.

i'm allergic to the lunesta.

why, god why????? why must you take away the one thing in my life that causes me to not stay awake for 32 hours at a time?

studying for the bar has turned me a little insane.

Happy 6-6-6!

Here's the toll-free number for the corporation that owns the California Bar Association. Call it and listen to their prompt...it's so nice to hear they're finally choosing to be truthful. :)

1-800-230-4339

what 4th amendment rights?

check this article out.
excerpt:
Police may enter Californians' homes without warrants to arrest those suspected of driving under the influence, the California Supreme Court ruled Thursday in a case testing the scope of the Fourth Amendment right to be free from unreasonable searches and seizures.

full article here

 

studying for the bar sucks. i miss my cat. 

happy happy joy joy

oh yes. just to update, my arm still hurts from the multiple stabbings of last week. it hurts deep inside my arm. i think i have nerve damage.

also, last week a huge pimple took over my chin. it it so big my boyfriend speaks to it. i named the pimple andre. as in andre the giant. andre was obviously male, you see, because what other sex could so ostentatiously invade?

additionally, the day before yesterday i discovered a small irregularly shaped about 1/2 centimeter in diameter pink thing on my leg. i refuse to believe it is just a bug bite. it looks like a miniature festering sore. perhaps i have flesh-eating disease.

or maybe it's just a reflection of my festering soul, which has been progressively eaten away by law school and bar prep.

if i scratch it, it weeps clear liquid, like how my heart weeps when i am sitting through my fourth hour of endless, endless lectures.

i've hit the trifecta! depression, insomnia and hypochondria! what a blessing.

and it's only day 2.

wow, the insomnia hasn't ever been this bad before. i'm just going to try and stay up until 8pm tonight. that should make me tired enough to knock out.

courage

Here is the transcript of Steven Colbert's speech at the White House Correspondent's dinner, delivered in front of, among others, President Bush.

insomnia

it is 8:21 am and i have not slept.

it's the stress. gets me every single semester.

i'm afraid to ask the doctor for sleep drugs for fear i will develop a dependency on them...but right now i sure could use some ambien.

The Besieged

Everything sings, everything gives fruit, everything is arranged to be.
But I defend myself. I am not yet finished with myself.
Between extending and straightening up,
Between the lips that say the Word and the Word,
Is a pause, a flashing that divides and tears:
I. I am not finished with myself yet.

-Octavio Paz

Mouse and Me

  

i heart wikipedia

from the wiki on "bushisms":

Make the Pie Higher poem

"Make the Pie Higher" is a poem comprising Bushisms. Each line contains a malapropism said to have been uttered by George W. Bush. Although its origin is uncertain, it has been attributed to Washington Post political cartoonist and satirist Richard Thompson. The poem has been criticized as apocryphal. However, all but a couple of lines have been verified by the Urban Legends Reference Pages at Snopes.com as having been spoken by Bush at one point or another during his Presidency. The only line for which a primary source has not been located was "I am a pitbull on the pantleg of opportunity."


Make the Pie Higher

I think we all agree, the past is over.
This is still a dangerous world.
It's a world of madmen and uncertainty
and potential mental losses.

Rarely is the question asked
Is our children learning?
Will the highways of the Internet become more few?
How many hands have I shaked?

They misunderestimate me.
I am a pitbull on the pantleg of opportunity.
I know that the human being and the fish can coexist.
Families is where our nation finds hope, where our wings take dream.

Put food on your family!
Knock down the tollbooth!
Vulcanize society!
Make the pie higher! Make the pie higher!

quotes of the day

In my many years I have come to a conclusion that one useless man is a shame, two is a law firm, and three or more is a congress.
- John Adams

At least two-thirds of our miseries spring from human stupidity, human malice and those great motivators and justifiers of malice and stupidity: idealism, dogmatism and proselytizing zeal on behalf of religous or political ideas.
- Aldous Huxley

complete and utter

DESPAIR.

My Corporate Finance final has been moved up and I can't go to Coachella and I sold my 2-day pass at a $40 loss because I deserve to pay $40 for deserting Depeche Mode and Madonna and She Wants Revenge and Seu Jorge whom I will likely never ever be able to see together in one festival again and I just want to crawl into a hole, a musicless, dark hole, and suffer there. But instead I will be in a flourescent-lit hole all weekend studying finance, which I am absolutely certain is what happens in the 18th level of hell.

the fucking greatest

 
This man, David English, is my current favorite person in the world, by virtue of him having given me a 3-day pass to the HK Sevens Rugby Tournament, resulting in one of the most fun-filled weekends of my life.

What have the rest of you done for me lately? 

and off again!

it's been a crazy month.

just got back from vegas for the weekend.

my itinerary for upcoming weekends as follows:

this weekend: mexico (puerto nuevo/rosarito), then possibly LA
weekend after that: LA for a wedding
weekend after that: COACHELLA!!!!


Okay, after all that, i will seriously buckle down and study.

and back again

majorly jetlagged. being in community property class doesn't help.

HK was amazing, as always. will post pictures as soon as i get off my lazy ass and upload them.

off to hong kong

...again! will be back april 3rd. i'll try to upload pix and regale you with intense, nail-biting stories of the international commercial arbitration competition. wish me luck!

have you ever...

woken up in the middle of the morning to go dry-heave into your toilet, and then realized in a moment of clarity that you somehow:
1) left the bar without your (brand new very expensive) digital camera,
2) went back into the bar to look for your camera and came out with no camera AND no jacket,
3) left the bar best friends with several rastafari, a pacific islander man with a long ponytail in a wheelchair, and a large and very friendly black woman whose lap you sat on for a good portion of the night?

oh. you haven't? then i guess you wouldn't understand my saturday night.

  

dreamland where are you?

i can't sleep. must have been the giant cup of coffee at 9pm. or the five cups of tea at 11pm.

since my brain shut down about three hours ago, rendering me unable to absorb any more law, i have:

* found the peruvian cultural institute's cuzco website for reservation availability on the inca trail. it's in spanish, but it's not too hard to find where the availability search engine is. looks like i may be able to book inca trail reservations less than 2 months in advance. sweet. macchu picchu...i long for thee.

* found a $97 one way flight to freeport, bahamas. the second time this week i've seen this deal. had to resist the yearning of every fiber in my being to click the "buy" button. for the one way ticket only.

* tried to hypnotize myself to sleep. twice. so please do not be surprised if i start clucking like a chicken when you say the word "point."

* cleaned out my belly button quite thoroughly. it's amazing how much lint fits in there! gross. but awe-inspiring.

* thought obsessively about my cat, Mouse. she recently learned how to play fetch, is now very insistent upon it. too cute.

i leave for hong kong in two weeks. can't wait!

don't hate him girl

this site is hilarious...but there may be tort/privacy concerns? i love it anyway.

i want!

how cool would it be to have your own wine?

been awhile

I haven't posted in awhile, as is custom when my life fills with things I would rather not write about.

Most of my waking hours are spent contemplating, writing about, discussing, or worrying over the law and its many permutations, implications and consequences. Classes are in full swing, as is the legal clinic, clerkship, and preparations for March's international commercial arbitration competition in Hong Kong. This leaves little time for me to do things like sleep, eat proper meals or find humor and joy in life.

On a more interesting note: this past weekend, I discovered that Mouse (my adorble kitten) loves to be carried around in the hobo bag I brought home from Thailand. Much amusement and cross-town kitten-toting is sure to ensue.