Wasting Time

If I get to a certain emotional point, I just can't do anything. I have this huge burden hanging over my head, I hate it, I know that I can get rid of it by just doing the task before me, but I can't do it. So I end up wasting time and feeling guilty. Wow. That's a bit of hell right there. So onward and upward I go. Just go to plug on through it. It's hard. I don't want to do it. But that doesn't change the fact that it must be done. In manus tuas comendo spiritum. Though this is nothing as important as all that. It's just ..... I'm wasting time.



Tanaquill

"Thank you for my life. I forgot how big."
-Joe Banks

Votum, Anhelo, Fides, Conatus.
Prayer, Desire, Faith, Effort.

Logical Fallacies

Just found a cool web site. Mo's got an article that's going to be published in a Law Review. He's been working on doing his author's edit - but gnarls (not growls) at one of the student editors whose favorite comment is a conclusory declaration of "This argument is illogical" without out clarifying exactly what logical mistake Mo made. So I thought I'd find a list of logical fallacies. I hope to be able to learn these so that I will not make either logical mistakes or the mistake of calling an argument illogical without knowing why it is so.

I Passed!

And so the day has come, and I am a real true live attorney now. I passed the Bar! It's like winning the beauty contest. I feel like such a little girl - it's that kind of pleasure - the giggly kind where my heart feels ticklish. And so then I feel like a fool - as I go around the office telling these very mature WASP men that "I passed" and I can't help giggling. They're probably wondering what kind of person they hired - but hey - at least I'm being genuine. And a giggly girl doesn't draw as much contention and pride as a bulldog with lipstick. It will be easier for them to trust me in way because I'm not trying to prove anything, or change who they are. It's like that Sting song, "[They'll] be wrapped around my finger." Only I don't want that. I just want to be trusted. Do you trust me?

But as far as the Bar goes - what a relief to have it behind me and to know that it's over, that I can keep my job, that I can start being a real attorney, that I can really help people now, that I can trust myself. I hope.

Stapler

Basically, I can't think of a good title for a post right now.  So that's the subject upon which my eyes rested - the stapler.

 

Enjoyed church yesterday - made myself go to Sunday School.  No, actually I had determined not to go, but to find some quiet corner and sort out all of the scraps of paper in my purse and make up a to do list to start organizing my life.  But after Sacrament meeting, I couldn't find a way to not go to Sunday School without looking like a total slacker.  i had to just keep walking right on into the classroom.  The Sunday School president even talked directly to me about going to class (he was gently trying to get people to go to the less attended class room).  So there I was in Sunday School, even though I had determined to be apostate.  It was a good thing.  There are times when I just don't want to go and then I do and I always feel good about it.  As opposed to the times when I don't go and instead feel guilty for not going.  Then there are the times when I have a really good reason not to go - family things and such.  I don't feel guilty then.  I'm blabbering.  I think maybe I should title this blog "Stream of Conscious."

 

I had a fun insight though in Sunday School.  We were studying Doctrine and Covenants (i hate it when people say "Dee and See" because that's medical lingo for Dilation and Cuterage which just is uncomfortable to think about)  section 136 where Brigham Young receives a revelation before the Saints set out upon the westward trek.  One of the first things that the Lord says is that the poepl need to make a covenant to obey the laws and statutes of the Lord.  The teacher asks what that could mean - why the Lord would put that first. 

The lawyer in me saw something that never occurred to me before:  these people were purposely leaving the jurisdiction of the U.S. and of any other governing body.  In the trek, there were going to be problems, accidents and conflicts and they would have no recourse to any sort of legal system - no personal injury lawyers or judges where they were going.  And so it was critical that they agree to follow the Laws of God in order to avoid and to resolve the inevitable conflicts.  Otherwise there is the danger of rule by violence and/or anarchy, instead of the rule of law. 

It reminded me of the pilgrims on the Mayflower who created the Mayflower compact before landing in an area they considered to be outside the jurisdiction of the English law.  They knew that the rule of law is critical.  I'm assuming they did the compact the way they did because of the "strangers" among them who wouldn't so easily agree to a religious covenant with a bunch of freaky puritans.

In church it is so easy to get used to using these very general spiritual type words and metaphors.  That is good because then it's easier for each person to think of their unique situations and have the whole group be able to apply what's being taught.  But in my mind, the gospel is a practical everyday thing.  God cares about the wagon axles and the bad hair days and everything that we care about.  The gospel applies to everything - specifically.  God cares about these trivial things that we care about because he cares about us becoming good.  In as much as something trivial affects our character, affects what kind of person we are, God cares about it.  And so when He gives us commandments, it's not trivial.  He's telling us what we need to do, even with the things that we classify as trivial, in order to become the people he wants.  So His laws apply to the practical every day things like returning what you borrow and if you don't tell your "creditor" why; like not begin jealous of the good things that others have. 

I'm really rambling.  If I had more time I'd make this make more sense, but lunch is almost over and I have to spend brain juice figuring out to make a 12(b)(6) motion make sense.

Cheers!

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Saturday

What a great day to bum around and just enjoy being alive. So that's what I'm doing - took a walk to the store to buy some caffiene and other supplies. Pleasant thing, walking. Especially when the weather's good. See people - mostly kids - outside playing with their bikes. Actually I did see some older people outside playing with their motor bikes. And a grandma with two girls. The girls showing off all of the cool things they can do for their grandmother and the grandmother just soaking in the love and the joy. Saw the house with the tree down in front of it. Chopped into pieces with brances just lying there. It's the same way it was last week on Saturday. In fact I walked the same way just to see if they had been able to pick up that tree. But they only picked up a few of the branches. Maybe they're waiting until the wook dries out a bit. Long paragraphs are harder to read than short paragraphs, but I don't want to think about where to logically break my thoughts. This is stream of conciousness - well at least streaming as fast as my fingers type - and type acurately. I use the backspace button quite a bit because I don't want what I'm saying to be put incorrectly. Or misunderstood or actually I guess I don't want people thinking that I'm stupid and can't write English. Because when I see writing that is flagrantly misspelled or with bad grammar or far too many typos, I assume that the person is just stupid or, probably more accurately, that they don't care enough about me to make sure that I can understand what they're trying to say. And I assume that they don't care that what they're saying is important enough to put in the correct form. And if the author doesn't care about what he or she is saying, why should I care? I haven't read that book about puncuation yet--"Eats, Shoots and Leaves"-- but I intend to one of these days.

Tonight there's the BBQ for the Queen's children. I think I'll go to Fantastic Sams to get my hair cut because I doubt that I have a fairy god mother. Besides, I need to get my hair cut anyway. It's at that annoying stage where it's brushing my shoulders and collar in a very shaggy looking way without being either long or short. Just shaggy. So, I'm off. Toodles!

Blah Blog

Today was Blah.  I took a sleeping pill last night.  It usually doesn't make me groggy in the morning - I wake up bright and chipper.  Not today.  I didn't really wake up until twenty minutes after I was supposed to be at work.  Then I took a shower.  So yeah, today was a bit of a waste.  Start off bad and the rest is Blah.  Got to get out of these threatening doldrums.

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Diet Mountain Dew

That's what's in front of me - a tub of Dew. My morning jo - cold. No ice. Spent all last evening purchasing sparklies for my Elizabethan dress. It was so fun - I get lost in the decision making and the imagining. I think it took me over an hour standing in front of the ribbon rack to decide which ribbons I was going to get. They were having a sale on certain kinds of ribbons and not others, and I had a 40% off coupon for one item. So I think I did ok - pretty much everything I got was 30-50% off. But it still came to over $100! Oh, the sparklies! Shiny glass beads, little rhinestones, gold and purple ribbons, gold thread and all sorts of buttons. I just read some where on this web thing that people back in the day used to wear buttons purely to show off that they had buttons. I wonder what the Amish think of that?

There's someone worse than my dad trying to get her children married. According to my father (who likes to make stories interesting and therefore not so factually correct that I entirely rely upon his telling) there's an acquaintance of his that recently moved into the area and is throwing a large party, simply to get her kids hooked up. Ok, I can see that. But then she sends a picture of her son to my dad and asks for him to send a picture of me. Hmm. But I've decided that I'm going to pretend I'm Cinderella - the queen is throwing a ball so her son can choose a bride, and so my fairy godmother will show up, take twenty pounds off of my frame and I'll live happily ever after with an ex-pro basketball player retiring in his early 30's. Ah, I love happy endings.


Votum, Anhelo, Fides, Conatus.
Prayer, Desire, Faith, Effort.

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Bum Rolls

Finished up my bum roll for my Elizabethan dress last night.  It makes my hips look so wide - "Does this make me look fat? .... Excellent!"  I shouldn't be as excited about it as I am.  And it's Monday morning - there's so much to look forward to: Fall clothing (I love sweaters; they do so much for my figure)  with fall colors (most of my closet is earth toned, which I affectionately call poo colored) and the nip in the air and snow in the mountains.  I think it's snowing in the mountains right now!  And work and Halloween costumes.  What fun!

 

Today's my parents 31st wedding anniversary.  My mom was telling me this morning that their wedding day was hell.  She told me a good bit of the story and I'd have to agree.  I think when I get married, I'd rather elope and avoid all of that trouble.  The reception's not for the bride and groom anyway - it's for everyone else.  But I'm glad that my mom and dad still got married and stuck with it, despite their difficult parents and their own misgivings.  I know that my parent's struggle with each other.  As I get older I see more and more when they're fighting and such.  But I also see more and more the amount of effort they put into making things work.  Now that's true love - forgiving, forgetting and trusting the other that no matter all of your weaknesses and my nastiness, we're still going to be there for each other.  I can tell it hurts them sometimes.  But I also know it comforts them.

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Guess who. 

Queen Elizabeth I 

Celebrations

Last night at the dinner table we had a great laugh, at my dad's expense.  You know, a lot of dad's wouldn't take the ribbing that we give my dad - he really is quite a good natured guy.  And last night was something of a dickensian moment in just how over the top the exclamation was - imagine a jolly round faced man with shining cheeks sitting at the head of his comfortable table laughing throwing his hands AND feet up in the air jubilating at the glories of his tale.  In his giddiness he lets a celabratory fart that brings tears of joy to everyone else eyes.  And now you know the level my humor.  But that is just so my family-- Dad was talking about a panel discussion that's going to happen today where one of his collegues is presenting a brilliant paper she wrote about gender equality and gay marriage - and he's just so happy about it.  Ah, it's a good memory already.

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Some visuals

Don't hate me because I'm beautiful.

Jobs and prayers

My brother got a job last night. We all rejoiced. See, both he and I graduated from law school this spring, neither with jobs. So we pray and we look and pray and worry. I've collected all of my rejection letters - it's quite a pile. The idea was that when I got my job I'd go up the canyon and burn all of the rejection letters. Well, I got my job, but Mo didn't. And Nini, his wife, and Mo both seemed to be pretty sensitive about it - I mean, they weren't mean or anything. It's just that they've been having money problems (and not keeping it a secret - personally, I don't want to know the details of my siblings financial lives any more than I want to know about their sex lives - in fact, in way I'm more interested in their sex lives in as much as when they conceive that makes me an aunt again! and nephews and nieces are certifiably the cutest humans on the planet.) Anyway - So they're all sensitive because they want a job really badly and so I'm feeling restrained in rejoicing - like if I were to go and burn my letters somehow I would hurt them. But it's not my fault. But, I can understand their point of view because if Mo got a job before me, well then I'd have a bit of a time trying not to be jealous. And finally last night, the call we'd all been waiting for came and he's employed. And Mom says that we can now celebrate that I got a job too. Well, I'm a bit past that point now. I love my job - I'm actually surprised at how much I like it. But I'm past the "toasts-with-carbonated-cider" stage. It feels a bit anti-climactic for me. But then most things that I think are supposed to be climactical end up being just life in the end.

And everyone is so happy - so Mom and I go and get Martinellis (the obligatory carbonated cider drink because the bottle looks like champagne. Hey, one of the bottles even fizzed over a bit, almost like a cork popping, well no where near like it - but I've a good imagination) and we even got little prizes - the cake toppers that were on sale for two bucks a piece. I've a feeling the bakery just wanted to get rid of them. Winnie the Pooh for me, Dumbo for Mo (hmmmm - wonder how he feels about that?), and Spider Man for Bean (my fourteen year old brother) for loosing the school council elections. Yup, Bean's following in our family's grand tradtion. So after all of this out of control celebrating, Dad says it's time for family prayer - and he's really feeling quite emotional. He asks Mom to give a prayer and then he'll give a prayer - Mom just looks at him funny - I can hear her thoughts: "Weirdo! Why two prayers - one'll do - are you trying to help me compensate for not being a Elder or High Priest like you? It's not like we're performing an ordinance here or anything." Well, I don't think those were her thoughts - she probably thought just "weirdo," that sufficing as code for the rest of it often thought through thirty years of marriage. But she just says and says a two sentence prayer and I'm grateful.

then Dad gets all maudlin. That's his favorite word for when he gets like he got last night, because he always says, "I don't want to get all maudlin." and I always think, "Too late." and then, "How much longer is he going to be maudlin, I've got stuff to do that involves at least some new thought." But here he is in the prayer getting all maudlin as usual. Frequently when my dad prays I get the feeling that he's acutally talking to the people in the room and not to God. In fact, I think a lot of people get that way, myself included - so that's kind of pathetic when I'm the only one in the room. But anyway - I'm getting that feeling again- that Dad's not talking to God, and then ... yup, he starts talking directly to Mo and me. "You'll have the lives and needs of others in your hands. You'll have to work hard." Boy, oh boy. I'm sure God knows a lot about hard work and having others lives in His hands.

I detect that I have hard feelings for my father.

In fairness - he didn't go on forever, like I am. He did keep it to about four minutes. And he really was sincere in his emotion. I think.

It was a Dark and Stormy Night

The best way to begin is to start, right. Even if it doesn't make particular sense. So I don't know where I'm going with this - except as a way to chronicle the adventures of my mind - maybe not, it depends on how exposed I begin to feel. Maybe to keep in touch with family as we all spread over the freakin' western United States. An entry a day - maybe. We'll see.