Srevotfel Night!

Okay, so just have to share the fact that Srevotfel (leftovers backwards) Night is amazing, especially after Thanksgiving. We have developed a habit of turning everything into a pizza. Yes, we made a Thanksgiving pizza. More than one, actually. The one that got a repeat was the stuffing, cranberry sauce, turkey and caramelized onions, topped with provolone. Another was mashed potatoes, turkey, roasted root vegetables, a balsamic reduction, and fresh mozzarella. Final one was barbecued pulled turkey (another form of leftovers), sweet potatoes, oil and garlic, pepper jack cheese and jalapenos. All of them were amazing! Great new way to use Thanksgiving leftovers!

Oh, and you know what else is awesome? My new co-op! I'm finally working with the prosecutors, in the child abuse unit, and it's already awesome (today was my first day). I get sit in on a trial tomorrow, and so today as spent meeting with the witnesses. And everyone there is just awesome. Spent about about an extra half hour there just talking to the other attorneys, who of course also have the requisite twisted sense of humor for doing that kind work. It kind of feels like V/WS, back when it was good. I'm totally excited to spending my quarter there! And now it's time for bed... Have to be there early for the trial in the morning!

Yeah, yeah, yeah....

Clearly I'm back to my procrastinating ways. On so many levels. And this time it may really be getting ready to bite me in the ass. Whatever. Moving on.

So changes. Lots of changes since the last time. I now have roommates. Two human, two feline and one canine. Thankfully, allergies are nearly gone by now, especially since one of the felines likes to practically sit on my shoulder when I study. It's kind of nice having roommates again, but I'm guessing that's only because they are really awesome roommates. Like helping me move, paint (my room was a monstrosity, including one poo colored wall...yes, you read that right, and yes, sadly I was serious), cook, everything. The down side: major distraction from doing homework at home.

And that's another odd change. I actually do homework at home now. My locker is barely used, I carry my books back and forth, and I can't study at school. And after two years, I can't seem to get up early any more, and am never at school before 9:30 (I used to be there at 7am). Seriously, what's up with that? I thought as you get older, you get up earlier... I guess I'm just getting to the point of being done with school. I don't want to be there any more than I have to. And I won't be there much longer! I actually graduate this year. And that is beyond terrifying. Even more so because as the bar exam results have come out, I found out that a friend did not pass. That means it's possible that a smart person may not pass the bar. That means it's possible for me to not pass the bar. You have no idea how much this scares me.

Moving and Memories

So as I'm packing to move YET AGAIN (I had sworn up and down that I wasn't moving again in Boston for at least several years, and yet, here I am moving after only one year in my fabulously cute little apartment, thus failing to break my record of one year and three months as the longest I've lived in one place as an adult). I keep finding things that are rarely used, but still have so many memories attached (which, in some cases, is why I can't get rid of things, in spite of the fact that they have sat unused, unpacked, unnoticed for two years). One such item was my creme brulee torch, which made me laugh immediately, remembering my drunken meltdown over my attempt to use it for the first time. Because of course, it's best to caramelize the sugar right before it's served. Well, at our dinner parties, that means after several bottles of wine. (No judgement, there were about six of us there). And THAT is when I'm trying to figure out how to use this thing for the first time. It just wasn't working. It would light, then go out. And I was becoming unreasonably upset over this. And I was about the just chuck the thing in the trash, but one of my wonderful roommates gently reminded me that I would probably regret that when I was sober. And then it took another friend to discover the problem: I had no clue how to fill the damn thing, so it was essentially trying to run on fumes. No wonder I couldn't keep it lit. Well, by that time, most of the creme brulee had already been consumed sans sugar. And I haven't gotten around to using it since. So it gets moved from apartment to apartment, waiting for that day when I will make another valiant (and hopefully successful) attempt at creme brulee. And mocking me with my drunken meltdown every time I see it. When am I going to learn that making dessert whilst intoxicated is NEVER a good idea? (Anyone else remember the drunken cake? No? Good...)

I love my Boston friends!

And all my other friends too, of course. But today was the first day I REALLY felt back in the Boston I know and love. First off, it was finally a cooler, rather dry day, with a slight breeze, but still sunny and bright. So perfect! Almost Flagstaff weather... So I spent the morning slowly getting into my day (I've had this horrific sleep schedule since I've been back when I'm up until 2-4am and sleep till 10am), then met a good friend for a movie downtown. By the way, "Julia and Julia" is an amazing movie, you should go see it! Then we got a late lunch at this little market that I've noticed before and was always curious about. Again, a good choice! It was such a beautiful day, being down at the commons, people watching (we saw a woman dressed head to toe in gold, and realized she was one of the living statue performers, and also randomly saw our former LF walk by...even a big city is still part of a small world!), and just enjoying the sun and the bustle of downtown Boston. We parted to get on our respective trains just in time to miss rush hour, and on the way home, I suddenly feel a tap on my shoulder. And of all coincidences, it's my friend, soon to be roommate, heading home from her law school. So I go with her, spend the late afternoon at her place, and then her boyfriend/my other roommate comes home and we have a fabulous evening together, grabbing drinks and appetizers for dinner at a local restaurant. I've missed this part of Boston... It really is so nice to spend time with good friends in a great city. Ahhh, it's good to be home!

P.S.~ Quick update on the getting home: After trying unsuccessfully to get on two flights from Seattle to Boston, I considered going to Portland Tuesday night, spending the night in the airport (well, six hours really), and getting the Portland to Boston flight, which looked much more promising. However, as the day wore on, not only did the PDX/BOS flight fill up, but so did the SEA/PDX flight. WTF??? So I caved and just bought a ticket for Tuesday night. Which took me through Portland AND San Francisco, before finally on a red-eye flight to Boston (which got in late). And my lovely new roommates were so very, very kind as to pick me up from the airport (thankfully all my luggage was there!), and the one who had to work wasn't even late! It was a long journey, but I finally made it!

P.P.S~ I wrote this after the kick-ass Mai Thais from Golden Temple, and managed to write the entire post without a spelling mistake (I make no claims regarding grammatical mistakes, this program doesn't check for those)... Is it wrong to be proud of myself?

Travel (the continuing saga)

So, in spite of all my optimism about being able to make it onto the Sunday night flight to Boston, I did not. The flight, which was oversold by five, went completely full. I almost thought I would get on, because there was one passenger who hadn't boarded when they were about to close the doors, but she came running up at the last minute. So I spent the night in Seattle with my sister, and we went back to try again in the morning. That flight was only oversold by three, and yet EVERYONE actually showed up, and so they had to ask for volunteers for a later flights, as well as offering another flight through Houston (which, my sister informed me, costs the airlines quite a bit of money, so props to them for being willing to lose money rather than piss off customers by forcefully bumping them). So by this time, I had slept about nine hours total the last two nights together, and was rather delirious. And felt rather dirty, still wearing the same clothes. Because the bag with all my clothing went on the flight the night before, and my bag with all my makeup and toiletries was somewhere between Flagstaff, AZ and Seattle, WA. Did I mention that a bag had gotten lost? I actually just found it quite funny, because that bag has gotten lost several times. It's my only piece of luggage that has ever gotten lost. It began when I was coming back from Thailand, and it made it with me as far as LAX, and then it went to Beirut while I went to Phoenix. Really? How does that happen? And how did it get lost on a direct flight from Phoenix to Seattle, with no transfers? I don't know why I even try checking it any more. But I do. At first I was a little worried that maybe someone else had picked it up (it had come to Seattle three flights before me), but then I realized that wouldn't have happened because that would mean it would have been scanned in at Seattle, which it wasn't. So I knew they would find it eventually, and I just laughed about the fact that my bag seems to be cursed. Figures.
So wait, where was I? Oh yes, just got shot down for another flight, and told that the flight that evening was oversold by seven. Yikes. But all I cared about at the moment was sleeping. But first with a quick stop at Ross so that I could have some clean clothing.
After a fabulous nap, I began considering my options. Well, there's a direct Portland-Boston flight. But the leaves at 7:20am. Which is before the earliest Seattle-Portland flight gets in. So I decided that I would show up to try to get on the Seattle-Boston flight that night, and if not, then I would get on the last flight to Portland and spend the night in the airport (I know that Bridgete lives there, but with coming in at midnight and having to be back at the airport at 6am, it would be more trouble than it would be worth to leave). But then, as the evening goes on, the numbers get worse and worse. It begins looking doubtful whether I would get on the Boston flight, and then doubtful whether I would get on the Portland flight. And the flights out of Seattle didn't show any possibility until Thursday, and who knows what would happen between now and then. So I decided to just buy a one way ticket. Which goes through Portland and San Fransisco, getting into Boston about 7:15 the next morning. Oh joy. But I was sick of the standby game. First time ever I've had this hard of a time. I wonder if that's a sign of the improving economy that so many people are buying last minute tickets, which are in the $1,000 range. I mean really? Well, sucks for me, but good for Alaska Airlines and my sister. Job security.
So another thing I've realized during all of this is just how rude and self-centered many travellers are. I mean, I understand that flying these days generally sucks, but that's no surprise. Quit acting like you were expecting to be treated like royalty. And don't be an ass about it when you realized that the airport does not revolve around you. If you would chill out, everyone would be much nicer and all would be happier. Some simple things to remember:
1) You are told to arrive outrageously early for your flight for a reason. Security is a bitch. Again, this is no surprise. So don't get there 45 minutes before your flight leaves (leaves, not boards), and then complain when they didn't hold the plane even though you were checked in but stuck in security. It's called planning. The airlines does it. You should to.
2) Another airline's delay does not mean that your next flight is going to be held for you. Time tables are tight for airlines. If they wait for you, they throw off the rest of the day. Blame the other airline that got you in late and made you miss the connection, not the flight that didn't wait. Especially when they have another flight to put you on in an hour.
3) If you're flying stand-by, don't bitch at the gate agents when you don't get on the flight. It's the nature of stand-by. The gate agents have no control over it. If you want a guaranteed seat, pay for one. (Yes, I know I complain, but I don't do it to the agents, and I do it with the understanding that my ability to fly standby is a privilege I don't have to be granted).
4) Wait at the gate for the 45 minutes before your flight. It's a pain in the ass for everyone involved when they have to page you over and over again to show up and get on the plane because you're too intent on getting your Burger King to pay attention. You are told exactly when you're able to board, so you should be at the gate. When you're not, you're holding everyone up.
5) Finally, be understanding that things happen. Planes are late, flights get overbooked, luggage gets lost, but life goes on. Luggage is found, you'll eventually get where you're going, and bitching at the people who are not responsible is not going to do anyone any good. (And for those of you who take issue with flights regularly being overbooked, it's because people generally don't show up. The flight Sunday night was overbooked by five seats, but five people didn't show up. I bet those last five tickets sold were glad they did overbook, because that means they got seats that ended up being available. It's a small percentage of overbooked flights that actually need to ask for volunteers to take another flight.)
Okay, done ranting now. And finally going to get back to Boston! Yay! Just hoping my bag (yes, I had to check it AGAIN) gets there...

Oy...

Okay, have I mentioned before how much I HATE travelling? Yes, I realize it wouldn't be quite so bad if I didn't fly stand-by, but really, when my choice s having flexible options (it took me to the end of July to decide when my last day at work was going to be) and flying for free, with the chance I will get bumped, or having to plan well in advance and pay $600-700, what choice is there? Do you know how much other fun I can have with that money? Or more realistically, what other bills I can pay... So needless to say, it's standby for me. And this is how my day has gone so far:
4:30am - Wake up
5:00am - Leave for the airport
6:00am - Leave Flagstaff
8:10am - Arrive at LAX
12:10pm - Learn that there's no room on the 12:30 flight to Seattle (the flight my luggage was going on, with or without me... I hope it's here waiting)
1:10pm - Find out there is no room on the 1:30 flight
3:10pm - Find out there is no room on the 3:30 flight
4:20pm - Manage to get one of the last two seats on the 4:30 flight
7:20pm - Arrive in Seattle
7:30pm - Get an overpriced cocktail and sandwich, and debate whether to try to make the overnight flight to Boston (which is currently oversold by 5) at 10:20pm, or staying in Seattle, which would require waiting for my sister to get off work at 11:00pm, only to be back here tomorrow to try to catch that overnight flight.

Okay, not really much of a debate there. I have to be here either way. I'm going to try it. However, that nearly guarantees a nearly $50 cab ride home in Boston, and no certainty whether I can even get into my apartment because the friend who has my keys hasn't been returning my phone calls... I hate travelling. I just want to be home. In my own bed. In my own space. Sigh...

Rain

THIS is how rain is supposed to be. A nice cool drizzle, flashes of lighting, rolling thunder, and a nice cool, gentle breeze bringing the fresh air into the house. Its a lovely monsoon storm tonight. It's so peaceful. Even if Moby is rather frightened... It's just such a lovely night, and, I must confess, it's wonderful having the house to myself for a bit. I was able to clean up the kitchen, and keep it clean as I cooked (something my roommates don't seem to believe in). So now I'm just able to relax and watch the storm as I wait for the aloo gobi to finish cooking.
On a side note, this is only the second time I've tried making Indian food. Like many people, I'm rather intimidated by Indian cooking, but I think that there's no real reason for that. I had some cauliflower waiting to be used, and a bunch of potatoes, so I decided to give it a go... I'll let you know how it turns out!

Ouch...

So day two of pain, which I'm told may still get worse yet. What, may you ask, has caused this pain? A very long hike on Sunday, resulting in sore legs and even more sore back, thanks to a lovely sunburn I obtained on the hike down. My very dear friend suggested that we hike up Mt. Eldon, something I had never done before. We had been standing in the parking lot of Salsa Brava when she suggested it, and I looked up at the mountain and said, "Sure! Sounds like fun!" So we agreed to meet up about 7am on Sunday morning with snacks and water and I would borrow some hiking boots from her and we would be on our way. Clearly, I did not fully think this through. Which is perhaps a good thing, because I had I done so, I may not have been so quick to agree. But in spite of it all, I am glad I did it. So Sunday comes, we find ourselves running a little late, but by 7:45 we're ready to start out. It wasn't supposed to be too hot that day, and it began as a rather cool morning. We start the hike with her dog, who guilted her into being brought along, and found the first mile went rather quickly. Only at that time did I think to ask how long it was. I found out it was a five mile hike total, if we made it all the way to the very top. Even then, I didn't think much of it. After all, walking five miles isn't bad. What I failed to take into consideration, however, was the incline. It turns out that the two and a half miles up the mountain include gaining nearly 3,000 feet in elevation. And about 2/3 of the way up, I began realizing what exactly I had gotten myself into. As we turn another corner and see yet another steep switch-back, the only things that kept me going were stubbornness (I had come more than half-way, damn it, I wasn't giving up!) and, when that failed, the knowledge that by that point, it was closer to go up than back down. And every time my friend pointed out the top as we got closer and said, "See? It's not that much further," I countered with, "That still looks like a long way away..." Which it was. In spite of the people we passed who said we weren't far from the top. And who said, "Once you get to the saddle, it's pretty gentle grade the rest of the way up." Gentle my ass! (Yes, there was also a lot of swearing to get me up to the top as well... I had read an article that said a scientific study found that swearing helps you deal with pain, and I certainly believe it). I had never before done a hike that intense. I've hiked before, even fairly long distances before, but never anything that far up. And I haven't done any hiking of any kind in the past two years. Boston is pretty much flat, and I hadn't been out of the city much. So needless to say, convincing my legs to keep climbing became a bit of a challenge. It wasn't so much that they hurt then, or even necessarily felt tired. It just felt as if they were refusing to move. My slight consolation is that as we met people on the way up, they did admit that it was a difficult hike. But somehow I had it in my head that it was supposed to be no big deal. Now, however, I know better. Once we reached the top (okay, so once I reached the top, as my friend was already up there waiting for me), I was so thankful to be able to sit and recover a bit. However, the view of the city from there is actually pretty ugly. Oh well, at least on the other side we had a nice view of other mountains. The way down was better, but going down a steep, narrow path with loose dirt and rocks in many places presented its own set of challenges. And by that time, we were already into the hottest part of the day (which turned out hotter than anticipated), with most of the trail in the direct sun. And I hadn't brought the sunscreen with to re-apply. Somehow I forgot that it doesn't last forever. So now I have a lovely burn line in the shape of the Camelback I had on. Oh, and we ran out of water on the way down. Needless to say, I was thankful to finally see the car. We all were. Probably the dog most of all. He was panting so hard the entire car shook. When I got home, I was only able to stagger in, wash the thick layer of dirt off my face, and fall into bed, not to move for about an hour. That evening, I was pleasantly surprised by the lack of pain, and thought it may have been more just an energy draining hike than an ass-kicking hike. Yesterday morning I found out how wrong I was. Ouch. And it's hard to say which was a worse pain, the legs or the sunburn. (For those of you who don't know, I'm normally extremely pale, so I burn quickly and badly.) Even having the burn covered, it still hurts to have the heat of the sun on it, which makes going outside during the day difficult. It hurts to even have it covered, because that means something is touching it. It hurts to lay down, which makes sleeping rather difficult. It hurts to move my arms because that means the burnt skin is being stretched and it rubs against the fabric covering it. But I suppose it wouldn't be a summer spent in Arizona without at least one burn...
Okay, I think I'm done whining about this now.

Ah, summer...

Okay, so that didn't take too long before I was willing to re-write...

So for those of you who were unaware, I have spent my summer in beautiful Flagstaff, Arizona, working for a private defense attorney and living with my occasionally crazy, though always fun, friend and three giant dogs. I had a few misgivings about being away from Boston for so long, but soon learned to readjust to the completely different pace of life in Flag. I've learned to come to terms with doing defense work, mainly by the comforting realization that most of these people are complete idiots and have voluntarily confessed so they're going to jail (and before anyone who does defense work takes issue with this, I'm talking about specific cases here, not defendants in general, and these guys have done some pretty heinous things). I've enjoyed working in downtown Flagstaff, where I make the daily mid-morning trip to Late for the Train for some tasty caffeine concoction or another (totally hooked on Retro-Metros and Mate Lattes). I've enjoyed being able to have lunch out on the patio on Heritage Square, where I see a myriad of entertaining people pass, and listen in to the mayor talk about her birthday party, playing Monopoly, and Twittering about something they laughed at on the square but making it sound very official. I've enjoyed wandering downtown after work or on the weekends, stopping in for a drink at the Wine Loft or with a bunch of attorneys at Rendezvous, finding random music festivals down on the Square, and of course, trying on nearly every hat at the Theatrikos rummage sale before parading around downtown with friends on a Saturday night wearing hats and very odd other costume pieces (which, by the way, we only received about two odd looks for and one question...did we really not stand out? Scary...). I've enjoyed taking the doggies on a walk up on the mesa. I've enjoyed taking the yoga classes in the morning before work (in spite of all my internal swearing by the last sun salutation and my hands are slipping off my mat during downward dog, which is not yet a "restful" pose for me) and in the evenings for deep-stretching yin. I've enjoyed the Sunday morning Farmer's Market, with the fresh, local vegetables, bread, cheese, and yummy breakfast sandwiches from NJ Pizza. I've enjoyed the mountains, the sunshine, the trees, the monsoons, the slower pace. I've enjoyed seeing friends that I haven't seen in years. I've enjoyed the summer dinner parties on the patio with amazing friends, amazing food, and amazing wine. I've enjoyed taking Argentine Tango lessons, even if I never could quite get the hang of the motion. I've enjoyed the serenity of not living right on Comm Ave, even if the stillness of the night is often interrupted by the train. In short, I've enjoyed my summer. But now it is coming to an end. In less than a week, I will be leaving Flagstaff, heading back to Boston and classes and the crazy pace of life in the city. Back to waiting for the T, walking to school, studying... But also back to the good part of Boston, the friends there, the fun we have, the city I've come to love. I'll miss Flagstaff summer, but I'm looking forward to being back!

Really freakin long time...

But as I was half-way through a really long update, this computer (which I have determined hates me) decided to, of it's own volition, erase it all and reload the page. I so don't want to re-write all that now, since this is basically for my own need to write rather than anyone to read, and I've already written it once (even if it was lost). Another time then. Hopefully when the computer is being less of a pain in the ass.

International Law Today!

Okay, first exam today! By 4pm, I will be officially done with International Law. It actually doesn't scare me nearly as much as it did a couple of weeks ago. Believe it or not, it is pretty straight forward. The hardest thing is remembering which treaty is which (Is it the 3rd Geneva Convention or the 4th that details standards of treatment of POWs? Third, I think...). There are ten thousand Geneva Conventions, Vienna Conventions, Hague Conventions... And of course, as we learned about the provisions in class, it was merely "Article 5 says...", not "3rd GC, Article 5 says..." Oh well. We get our notes for the essays, as well as all the other materials from class. Hopefully this exam will be a success. Wish me luck!

Crim Pro or Kitchen Experiments?

Nothing like trying to study all day to make my mind wander in three thousand directions... So in between answering questions for the 1Ls, trying to get my Lexis account to work again and listening to the Barbri lecture, I decided something sweet would be really kind of yummy (anyone else get that urge when faced with hours upon hours of studying?). As I have a tendency to not normally have sweet stuff on hand (aside from dried Turkish figs...but they weren't quite going to cut it at the moment), I began trying to think of what I could make. This was even more of a problem, because I've been trying to use things up (I'm leaving way too soon), and therefore have an extreme shortage of flour. So my fabulous thought for lemon poppy seed bread went nowhere. Instead, I decided to go for peanut butter cookies, based on the simplest recipe I've ever come across, as it does not include flour. However, either I remembered the recipe wrong, or it just doesn't quite work the same with natural peanut butter. So I decided to throw a few more things in, and wound up with some fabulous PB&J cookies, with a little banana. First time I've actually made up my own recipe for baking (somehow that always frightens me more than cooking without a recipe), and I have to say it was a total success! And now as the last pan is about to come out of the oven, it's back to crim pro. The warm cookie helps take the sting out.

Oh Scalia...

I love the humor of Scalia, even when it is unintentional...

How Do You Solve the Problem of Scalia?
The razor-thin line between obscenity and bad judgment.
By Dahlia Lithwick


Leave it to Justice Antonin Scalia to trigger a nationwide debate about the hermeneutics of chin flips.

But first, a brief glance at the procedural history: It's undisputed that a newspaper reporter approached Scalia as he left a special Red Mass for lawyers and politicians at Boston's Cathedral of the Holy Cross. It's also not disputed that when the reporter, Laurel Sweet, asked what Scalia had to say to critics who question his impartiality in light of his Roman Catholic beliefs, he offered a familiar hand gesture, adding, "You know what I say to those people?" and, evidently by way of explanation, "That's Sicilian."

Where the parties differ is regarding the meaning of the gesture in question. The Boston Herald initially characterized it as "obscene." Supreme Court spokeswoman Kathy Arberg carefully described it, by contrast, as "a hand off the chin gesture that was meant to be dismissive," but not obscene.

The lower courts immediately issued conflicting opinions: Evidently in some jurisdictions, the chin flick "is a gesture of contempt, somewhat less rude than giving a person 'the finger.' When used in the United States, it usually means 'Bug off, I've had enough of you.' Not a polite gesture, but not a particularly hostile one, either," according to one blog. A concurrence by Wonkette (complete with an illustrated appendix) reached a similarly benign conclusion: "Justice Scalia's gesture wasn't a full-fledged flipping of the proverbial bird. But it still wasn't exactly the most polite of actions; in some quarters, it could be interpreted as pretty darn close to giving someone the middle finger." Dissenters disagreed, finding that the gesture, whether chin flip, finger, or otherwise, is improper. The "thought of flipping somebody off in church, minutes after receiving the Eucharist, is just, well, beyond shocking, insulting, infuriating."

The issue might have died there—with a largely amused nation in good-natured agreement that the equivocal gesture was par for the course for Scalia's usual belligerence and bombast—were it not for his interlocutory appeal, filed yesterday with the Boston Herald. In a surprising (though not unprecedented) letter to the editor, Scalia disputes the finding that the alleged gesture was "obscene." Dismissing the reporter as "an up-and-coming 'gotcha' star" (and inserting some trademark Scalia wordplay involving her name—"o-so-sweetly") the justice clarified that the gesture was limited to "fanning the fingers of my right hand under my chin."

Fanning. Not flipping. Please take note of the significant legal distinction.

Scalia goes on to cite Luigi Barzini's book The Italians (query whether this constitutes the citation of foreign law) and pleads that "The extended fingers of one hand moving slowly back and forth under the raised chin means: 'I couldn't care less. It's no business of mine. Count me out.' This is the gesture made in 1860 by the grandfather of Signor O.O. of Messina as an answer to Garibaldi."

Scalia goes on to accuse Sweet of leaping to ethnic-slur conclusions: "From watching too many episodes of the Sopranos, your staff seems to have acquired the belief that any Sicilian gesture is obscene—especially when made by an 'Italian jurist.' " This in turn led to the Herald's decision to empanel a grand jury of Sopranos actors in order to shed further light on the meaning of the hand flip in question. Again, however, unanimity was impossible to achieve: "It's an obscenity," Joseph Gannascoli, who plays capo Vito Spatafore, opined. "It's not like grabbing your crotch, not that bad an obscenity. … But it's an obscenity. It's something you would do after paying a bookie, to your bookie, but not something you would do in church."

Not so, said John Fiore, who played Sopranos capo Gigi Cestone. "It's not that bad, but I wouldn't do it to my mother. No way. Would I do it in church? These days, maybe. It depends if the priest was giving me the hairy eyeball." Black's Law Dictionary contains no definition of "the hairy eyeball," nor does Title 18 of the U.S. Code.

Concurring in Fiore's result, but offering a separate opinion, was Steve Schirripa, who plays Bobby "Bacala" Baccalieri: "Ah, I think he meant 'to hell with ya.' " Frank Santorelli, who plays Bada Bing bartender Georgie, joined with the plurality: "It's kind of a light gesture … not a vicious one. It's not as bad as the (middle) finger."

The editors at the Boston Herald then tried to amend their pleading, styling the late filing as within their right to "get the last word." Obliquely referencing the Fiore dissent, the Herald conceded that the gesture at issue may not have been obscene, but added—in what is surely dicta—"Maybe so, but it's still not something you'd do to your mother." They appended to the record the photographic evidence of the gesture in question and the testimony of the photojournalist who snapped the shot, to wit: "The judge paused for a second, then looked directly into my lens and said, 'To my critics, I say, 'Vaffanculo.' " The Herald helpfully translates, "(expletive) you."

Some folks on the political right are already in raptures about Scalia's "rare clarity." His kiss-off is even being spun, amazingly, as a justified response to an insulting attack on his religious beliefs. Scalia is once again the victim, it seems, of cunning liberal attempts "to make him into news." He is being stalked and baited by the liberal media in the hopes that he will say something that will result in a demand for his recusal in future cases. My God, but we liberal journalists are cunning bastards. We just won't stop hitting poor Scalia's fist with our enormous, spiteful chins.

Dahlia Lithwick is a Slate senior editor.

Article URL: http://www.slate.com/id/2138117/

Class and Pop Culture Collide

"Supreme Court throws out Janet Jackson ruling: Justices order appeals court to consider reinstating fine for nipple flash."
How appropriate that I came across this headline as I'm sitting in admin. Chevron deference anyone?

FCC v. CBS Corp., 08-653

Craigslist Killer's Ex-Fiance Still Supportive?

So apparently the woman who vehemently denied any possibility that her fiance could be the Craigslist killer, insisting that someone from the PD was looking for some quick cash by selling false info to the media, is now his ex-fiance. Even though she still completely believes in his innocence and supports him, "McAllister is not going to put her life on hold while the legal process plays itself out." Wait, she's still maintaining he's a good man and innocent, but she's not willing to wait until the legal process plays itself out? If she truly thought he was innocent, she would be making statements about the wedding merely being postponed, not cancelled, pending his acquittal since she knows he's innocent. After all, what's a year or so to wait for a wedding? And if she truly believed in his innocence, wouldn't she be there to support him when he most needs it? This girl clearly has changed her mind about his innocence (and who wouldn't, in light of the belongings of the victims being found in their apartment?), so why can't she just say it? Of course it's hard to admit you are wrong, especially after making such a scene in the national media, but really...

Supreme Court Shoots Down Televised Profanity

The FCC won a ruing from the S. Ct. that allows them to fine broadcast television networks that air profanity. And of course, Scalia was writing the opinion, claiming that no matter how it is used, the F-bomb is offensive because of its sexual meaning. Um, really? Stevens' dissent: "As any golfer who has watched his partner shank a short approach knows, it would be absurd to accept the suggestion that the resultant four-letter word uttered on the golf course describes sex or excrement and is therefore indecent." Love it! Must have been quite the interesting (and I'm hoping expletive filled) debate...
Oh, and the best part of all? I learned about this from Perez Hilton. Yes, that's right. The same man who made himself a celebrity through gossiping about celebrities also reports on certain S. Ct. decisions. Amazing. Why am I in law school again?

http://perezhilton.com/2009-04-29-supreme-court-shoots-down-televised-profanity

Wait, did I hear that right?

While scrolling through iTunes, looking for some of the random Jason Mraz songs I may have missed, I found one from the soundtrack to Happy Feet, which is unfortunately not available as a single. But I listened to the little snippet, and part of it was "I'm a joker / I'm a smoker / I'm a midnight toker." Wait, isn't Happy Feet a movie primarily marketed towards children? I love Jason Mraz, and it sounds like a great song, but does it really belong on something for children? I'm sure it's just adorable to hear little five year olds singing that they're midnight tokers, and then asking mommy and daddy what a toker is. Something just seems a little off about this...

Happy (Belated?) Birthday!

Okay, so I found this a couple days late, but I just had to share...

All’s well that ends well

NEW YORK – Happy Birthday Bill! As in Bill Shakespeare. The bard’s actual date of birth isn’t known for certain, but most scholars put it on April 23, 1564.

So if you are among those who consider the bard the greatest writer ever, today is the day to unleash thy inner bard. Mayor Daley in Chicago has decreed it: “Talk Like Shakespeare Day” so, “screw your courage to the sticking place” and celebrate Shakespeare’s birthday—with his words.

Shakespeare contributed more than 1,700 words and phrases to the English language. So all day long, you can pepper your conversation with phrases like “prithee” and “fie”. Or, if you’re at lunch, “pass yonder salt and pepper.” If you’re the boss: “come hither sirrah.” Need to yell at that driver who just cut you off? “a pox on both your houses. Why settle for ‘idiot’, when you can say “thou rank fly bitten canker-blossom”? So much more satisfying.

All you lawyers out there can add weight to your arguments, start them with “methinks,” “mayhaps,” “in sooth” or “wherefore.” And speaking of lawyers, Shakespeare didn’t really want us to “kill all the lawyers”. His point was precisely the opposite: eliminate the lawyers and social unrest results. “Sweets to the sweet” has come to mean an amorous gesture. But Hamlet’s mother was talking about funeral flowers. Most of the time we get it right, which is saying something four-hundred and forty-four years after the fact. It says something about the power of words: then and now.

http://insession.blogs.cnn.com/2009/04/23/all%e2%80%99s-well-that-ends-well/

Rain, rain, go away...

You know, I never used to be depressed by the rain, and it's been bothering me that the rain has affected my mood so much lately. After all, I used to love the rain! But now, even when I don't have to be out walking in it, when I'm just inside listening to it, I feel like I'm about to go mad and just want to curl up in bed and pretend the world doesn't exist. However, after a friend's random comment on Facebook, I think I know what changed: there is no thunder and lightening accompanying the rain here. That's what makes rain exciting and beautiful. Without it, it's just gray and dreary and depressing. But lightening is amazing to watch, when it's purple, blue, white, shooting across the clouds or down to the ground, illuminating the blackness with a flash of brilliant light like a giant flashbulb. Even the thunder, with its low, building rumbles and sharp, sudden claps, add interest. You can feel it vibrating through your body when it's close enough. It's these dazzling displays of the power of nature that I miss. Without their vitality, rain is just depressing when it drips morosely and monotonously from a dull gray sky. I'm looking forward to the monsoons this summer!

Wait, people actually READ this???

Apparently so... Who knew? I kind of thought I was talking to myself for the most part, but I was informed by a dear friend tonight that I have caused heartbreak by the infrequency of my postings. I'm sure there may have been a tiny bit of exaggeration in those complaints, but I don't really choose to question it.

So now that I'm here with another post, the question is, what do I have to say? Hmmm....

Well, in the interest of keeping things positive (a friend has pointed out that I tend to let stress and thus negativity dominate my online messages, so I'm attempting to be more aware), I will not use this as an opportunity to complain about the Red Sox games and the MBTA (tempting as it may be). Instead, let's focus on the good things Boston offers. Like extra holidays! I heart Patriots Day! (And for those of you non-Bostonians, that has nothing to do with the football team). I have a three day weekend, and the best part is, I truly get to have a three day weekend! Thanks to the holiday cancelling my three Monday classes, the only homework that has to be done is for crim, which is already half done and can thus be completed Tuesday morning. I can truly avoid school for three whole days! And yes, I plan to. Of course, I could take this opportunity to try to get ahead for the week, ease the burden for Tuesday, but really, I'm the Queen of Procrastination and I must keep up my title. So what, may you ask, will I do with all my free time? A whole lot of nothing! Okay, not really. Already today I've gotten a haircut and had a fabulous dinner with fabulouser (no, I didn't have too much wine with dinner) friends. I think that counts as a productive day! Though I think in the interests of trying to prevent myself from failing my one and only, and may I say, most frightening, in-class exam (international law), I may begin to work on an outline this weekend from my notes and the Crunch Time book I bought (did I mention it's the most frightening class?). What I will not be doing is watching the Marathon. In fact, I don't think I will leave my apartment that day in order to avoid the insanity. I see no point in fighting for a spot on the sidewalk, waiting for hours just to watch a bunch of strangers run past me. If I knew someone who was running, things would be different. But strangers? I have better things to do with my time.

And now, due to my utter exhaustion (I was up before 8am, after having gone to bed after 2am...damn early morning sunlight and crappy blinds), I have seem to abruptly come to an end. I have no clue where to go from here, except to bed. Goodnight, and I'll try to be back again soon!

WHY?

Why is it always so freaking cold in the law school??? The weather has not yet been consistently "warm" (in spite of it being the middle of April, it often feels like it's in the mid to low 30s due to the non-stop wind), and yet they have the AC blasting. I left my apartment before 7am this morning with only my shawl, leaving the coat behind, and I was completely fine with that. But now that I'm sitting in the classroom, I'm FREEZING! At least it's not as bad as last year when you could literally see your breath in one of the classrooms.

It's been a while...

Okay, it's been more than a while... It's been a whole quarter and a half. But hey, things have been busy (as per usual). So what is it that prompted me to come here to ramble? My fabulously spontaneous decision making as of late. Yes, I have indeed made another big decision on a mere whim. Well, sort of on a whim. I had thought through whether it would be an option a while back, and decided it was, but the actual decision to go through with it was made on a moment. Oh, I guess I should explain what "it" is....I'm moving back to Flagstaff for the summer. I love Boston, I really do, and I don't particularly want to leave, but I have to be practical at the same time. My co-op search in Boston hasn't been going so well, so about a month or so ago I was toying around with the idea of going back to Flag. After all, it's not exactly the hot bed of competition that Boston is, with its five law schools, Harvard across the river, and students from all over the country wanting to come here. And when half of the places I applied to here have responded with "Not Hiring," I thought it might be wise to have a backup plan.
So yesterday I was checking the weboard, and saw that the last place I interviewed at had made the offer to someone else. This was around noon-ish. So I decided to start calling places in Arizona. To make a long story short, through a series of phone calls with people I used to work with there, I was offered a position that evening by an attorney in Flagstaff, and it even paid! All this merely through connections, without even sending my resume. Amazing how things work out. Now I just need to figure out what to do with my apartment and all my stuff....