Pictures, Pictures, there were never such devoted pictures...

For those who are wondering, I am going to upload pictures soon. I just need to re-install some software into my new harddrive. No biggie. And you can soon see my new hair do. Can't wait!

If you're not a doctor, you can't deny perscriptions

I was shocked to hear the story of a 21-year-old pre-med student at my old uni. who was raped in the middle of the day, on a very crowded street, on her way to Gasperilla. I was further shocked when I read that this girl was denied the Morning After Pill by a police officer who felt the pill was "against her religious convictions" and denied the woman her doctor-percribed pills in the timely manner in which they must be taken to be effective.
It makes me very sad and angry when people use their own moral yardsticks to shove down other's throat. It is further sad that this woman of "high moral convictions" felt that denying medication that could in effect force someone into an unwanted pregnancy was a manifestation of her God's Love and Righteousness.
It should be a felony to interfer in the doctor-patient relationship. And those that do in the name of their god should be aware that they give him (or her) a very bad name.

Musings on A Short Life

I have mentioned Coldplay a few times on this blog. And I have mentioned Oxford, UK a few times. But this is the first time (I think...lemme check) that I've put them together. Those who know me very, very well (K., M., H.) know that I have a lot of ambivilance about my time spent in Oxford. On the one hand, I fulfilled the goals I set for myself when I moved there. On the other hand, that place scared the crap out of me. (K. can you commiserate?) It was so old and I was so young. Well, not SO young, but still in youth, still in bloom. I felt the whispers of my soon upcoming demise all around me. And I wish I had done more, seen more, experienced more in the short time I was there.
However, M. recently taped a MTV special on HDTV "Coldplay Live." While I was watching/listening to it, I started to attached the significance of the song "Yellow" to Oxford and my experiences there. The words of the song, at least the first three verses, were a reflection of my awe and intimidation by Oxford. At the end of the song, I imagined Oxford imparting to me the importance of really living and pursuing my goals while I still have life. It was a deep. And corny, too, no doubt. But I am putting myself out there and sharing it, because it meant something to me.

Yellow

Look at the stars,

Look how they shine for you,

And everything you do,

Yeah, they were all yellow.



I came along,

I wrote a song for you,

And all the things you do,

And it was called "Yellow."



So then I took my turn,

Oh what a thing to have done,

And it was all "Yellow."



Your skin

Oh yeah, your skin and bones,

Turn into something beautiful,

You know, you know I love you so,

You know I love you so.



I swam across,

I jumped across for you,

Oh what a thing to do.



Cos you were all "Yellow,"

I drew a line,

I drew a line for you,

Oh what a thing to do,

And it was all "Yellow."



Your skin,

Oh yeah your skin and bones,

Turn into something beautiful,

And you know for you,

I'd bleed myself dry for you,

I'd bleed myself dry.



It's true, look how they shine for you,

Look how they shine for you,

Look how they shine for,

Look how they shine for you,

Look how they shine for you,

Look how they shine.



Look at the stars,

Look how they shine for you,

And all the things that you do.

Personal Style

So last night was our Night with JS--and it was exactly as wonderful as I hoped. Before we even entered the theater, we were treated to a Florida sunset on the water framed by palm trees. I was eleven when I first "lived" with palm trees and they have always symbolized "home" to me.) Anyway, perusing the sky we see three military-type aircraft, practising diving and climbing in perfect unison, with fireworks launched off the back and plumes of smoke. It was spectacular, a lit-up dance in the sky. A few glasses of merlot later, we were in our seats (ground level of course, nothing but the best for our JS addition. Even though we found out too late about the show to get front row tickets, we were not in the very last row, and that is what is important to remember. Jon Stuart came on without a warm up comedian and was dressed exactly as expected, in some beige khakis and long sleeve undershirt-under-matching-t-shirt combination.
He was heckled at the start by two drunken women (and even told to "F**k off" while dissenting on Bush's escalation plan--"Go fuck myself for what I do on TV every night?!") but he gave as good as he got and impressed me with this quick mind and thoroughly-thought out positions. It was wonderful to see him live. M has seen him both times he came to Tampa. Hopefully, after law school, we will be able to take a trip to Manhattan to celebrate. There, we will be able to catch up with him again at a taping. Fingers crossed.

Tonight's the Night!

We have had our tickets on the fridge for three weeks (behind the Stewit Griffin magnet). Finally the long wait is over! Jon Stuart comes to Tampa! Let freedom ring.

My favorite song right now.

Funny story. Every time this song comes on Sirius and I get into it, I always end up at my destination near the beginning and rarely get to hear it all the way through. So indulge me. Oh, and I looked for an uncensored version but apparently both video code and Youtube don't stock it. Heaven forbid Americans hear the word "God" or see a nipple.*

*M. and I hosted the Super Bowl party that year and had TVs on the porch, in the living room and in the kitchen. With 20-plus people watching the half time show on three TVs not one of us saw Janet Jackson's boobie. Until the next day, when Nipplegate was everywhere.

On a day when I SHOULD have been lazier

M. and I made a pact last night that we would get up at 5 AM to work out before heading off for the day. Of course, at 5 I turned to him, "Do we really want to do this?" We didn't. We wanted to keep sleeping, big surprise. Anyway, we got up at our regular 6:30 reveille and headed to work. Only, the building was locked and it turns out that even though I specifically asked if we were off on MLK day, it turns out we were. Back home again, looking at my newly made "to do" list. The top item? Working out. So on to that.

Was There Crack in my Coffee?

Yesterday was Friday and I felt a cold coming on. Since I wanted to finish out the work week, I bravely trudged into work swigging a 16 ounce mug of English Breakfast tea. Once the tea was gone, I decided I needed to keep drinking warm stuff, so I started on coffee. Less than an hour later, while upstairs in the "best" office kitchen, I came across a box of these huge saucer-sized amazing cookies, just sitting on the table for the taking. Choosing a raspeberry white chocolate delight, I happily munched while sipping (what else?) more black tea with milk and cream. Yum.
The only problem was, now I was JACKED UP with caffeine. I couldn't sit still, I was humming and had to restrain myself from Bursting into Song and skipping as I walked down the hall. Later that same hour, I was introduced to one of the partners of the firm and couldn't stop myself from gesturing wildly and repeatedly towards downtown (where I used to work) while describing my past employment history and yammering on and on about the project I was currently working on--all while rapidly jiggling my leg back and forth under the table. It was a disaster.

Crackberry Blues

For Christmas, my Sweet Man bought me a Blackberry (among many other thoughtful gifts). However, while I love the texting freedom this device gives me, there are misgivings. For one, I haven't been able to figure out how to send a text without merely replying to one. How does one do that? Anyone know? I am committed to using and keeping the gadget I specifically asked for, no matter how much the BlackJack calls out to me in the night.
Seriously though, any "how tos" from current or former Blackberry users would be appreciated.
In other news, M. was supposed to go to the Lightning hockey game tonight but the tickets fell through at the last minute. So instead , he came home from work and we ate edamame for dinner (huge bowls of it) and watched The Daily Show, Dead Like Me and The Office. Boring to some, but hanging out with my husband is my favorite thing to do.

Success or Failure? You decide.

As POTUS gets ready to deliver his Great Speech tonight at 9, I humbly present this video clip from last night's Daily Show. Enjoy!

http://www.comedycentral.com/motherload/player.jhtml?ml_video=80589

Two and a Half Weeks and the Drought is Over...

Today's Daily Show was...midtacular. But it is wonderful to sit down with a glass of merlot (yes, merlot) and unwind from the day with the witticisms of Mr. Jon H. Stewart (ok, there is no "H" but it does have a certain ring...kind of like Harry S. Truman. Explainer: the "S" didn't stand for anything but Truman thought it had a presidential tone.)
A lot has happened these past two and a half weeks of hiatus and I hope TDS gets its wind back within the week because I need a big laugh. Soon.

Crunchy!

After watching Gigi numerous times as a child, I finally had a chance to eat quail, bones and all. We went to this Hawaiin-Asian fusion restaurant where the sushi appetizers were delicious. Encouraged, I ventured on to the roasted stuffed quail, delightfully remembering Leslie Caron's tutorage in Paris in this gastronomical art. Chewing the bones was...an experience. But not an experience I would ever want to repeat. Perhaps it is the proper way to eat quail, but never again for this girl. The lesson I should have learned as a child watching Gigi? Bones are not for chewing (oh, and high class hookers are classy.)

Help is on the way!

http://www.nytimes.com/2007/01/04/technology/04pogue.html?em&ex=1168318800&en=d90f2fb0adc8d5c0&ei=5087%0A

Back up, Back up, BACK UP!

Like Carrie Bradshaw, I often wonder who are all these people who back up their work. Having had a lot of bad luck with my laptops in recent years, I should have learned the necessary art of the backup. But alas! I have not.

New Year's Day, after a lovely morning laying in bed (I informed my husband that in celebration of a fresh new year, I would not be getting out of bed until at least 4 PM), my hard drive gave up the ghost. Luckily, I did not have to break my promise to myself and my sweet Monster took the computer to the shop while I languished luxuriously between the sheets watching movies.

Unfortunately, while the laptop was under warranty and was promptly replaced, all my photos and essays (including a paper on Constitutional Jurisprudence which I was trying to get pubished) are gone. We are looking into finding someone to retreive what they can, but that is the sad, sad tale of the Woeful Woman Who Wouldn't Backup.

I alway say I wont do it this year, but I'm a sucka

Here is my new year's resolustion: to stop buying so many lattes. I bet I could save a lot of money by just making our (expensive, Christmas gift) coffee in the morning or drinking the (expensive Starbucks) coffee they so generously serve at work. But yet, nothing beats a steamy hot vanilla (or nutmeg, or caramel, or egg nog, or chai, or gingerbread) latte while you brouse the bookstore or run errands. Indeed, grabing my morning latte on the way to the library remains one of my most cherished Oxford rituals. Still, it is my resolution and so I am resolute.

Last year, my resolution was to attend a live stage performance. In 2005, I saw The Producers in London and As You Like It in Stratford Upon Avon and vowed I would continue to regularly attend the the-a-ter. But 2006 was pretty devoid of live entertainment (excluding the two musical performances I previously blogged about.) In March, H. and I are planning to see Wicked over her spring break. Something to look forward to. I really need to start keeping my resolutions in the year in which I make them.

Speaking of resolutions, I always dread going to the gym in January/February. This is when all the resoluters pack the gym in order to "finally shed" those forty, sixty, eighty pounds. They take up all the good equipment and I am NOT a patient girl. But by the end of Feb. it should be down to Us Faithful again.
In the interest of not getting Dooced, I won't write about my new job except to say that it is wonderful being able to contribute to something that truly matters in the world and helps people. Also? It is nice to finally earn a living wage and rob Monster of the pleasure of being the main "breadwinner." Cause really, who wins bread? Being able to balance both aspects in my current profession is wonderful and makes all those long nights of study worthwhile. Right, K.?

Go 110th. Do us proud, please. Or, just don't screw up so bad.

Wonderful things about 2006

1. Monster and I were no longer to be separated for months at a time.
2. I began my very last semester of an undergraduate degree.
3. K. and I were named Student of the Year for GWA and received exclusive Honors Awards.
4. Graduated third in my class.
5. Got married.
6. Got married again. (To the same guy, natch.)
7. Began new career.
8. Successfully studied for LSAT.
9. Took LSAT and finally got results.
10. Moved into beautiful lakeside apartment.
11. Decided to go on an adventure in 2007.


 

The pic I tried to post last time. Blast!

K. at Radcliffe Camera.