It was pitch black and pouring down rain when I woke up this morning. Before yesterday, Durham only had 66 days of water supply left. This rain won't change that (although it may fool some people into thinking they don't need to conserve), but it is refreshing.
So, in honor of the rain, here's my favorite raining song.
Irma Thomas singing "It's Raining"
Friday, October 26, 2007
Friday, October 19, 2007
I Hear That Lonesome Whistle
Last night my bargaining paid off and I had absolutely no new work to complete for class today. I spent a few hours starting some review work (more bargaining) and spent the rest of the night relaxing.
After going out to dinner, Brandon and I came home and watched "Hustle and Flow." I hadn't seen the movie since it came out, and really enjoyed it the second time. From the reaction of one of my fellow students today (an amused laugh, on par with what you might expect if I had said I had watched "The Fast and the Furious") when I mentioned I had watched the movie last night, I assume that to the rest of the country it is a decent, entertaining genre film.
To someone from Memphis, love it or hate it, the film carries much more weight. I remember the fury in Wendi Thomas' response when it first came out, blasting it for how it represented Memphis to the rest of the world. And later, when she and Brewer met and talked, it was practically treated as a summit between diplomats, two of the major voices representing Memphis to the world.
I stand on the love-it side of the fence. I think the film peers hard and long into the despair that many people want to gloss over and finds a fairy tale of hope. I could delve into this more. I'm sure there are plenty of people who would spend plenty of time discussing or arguing this with me. (Oh, how I miss you Drinking Liberally of Memphis). But it isn't what I really wanted to talk about. I wanted to talk about the train.
Of course, it was fun, watching the movie, to see Memphis in the background. It was fun to see Vance Grocery, the tiniest flash of Beale Street, quite a bit of Lamar and Brooks. It was fun to speculate whether or not the church was Calvary and to reminisce about the Poplar Lounge. But the movie didn't make me miss Memphis too much until I heard the train.
Early in the movie, during a transition, the sound of the train rolled across the scene and punched me in the gut.
When I moved to Dallas, I the landscape felt lonely to me in a way Chicago never had. I couldn't pin it down until I came home to visit in the spring. I missed the trees on the horizon. It felt lonely without them.
In Durham, there is no loneliness for lack of trees. The trees surround the city in a bear-hug of greens and (right now) ambers and reds. Durham has the normal sounds of small city, but it lacks the bass notes of Memphis, the trains, the airplanes, the low rumbling background. Memphis has wrapped itself around the train and laid itself under the FedEx flight path and incorporated it, often without even noticing, into every aspect of life. I miss the boxcar graffiti each morning taking Southern Ave to work, the way a long train in East Memphis equalizes everyone traveling the roads, the way my mind would listen to the sound distant in the background of my evening.
After going out to dinner, Brandon and I came home and watched "Hustle and Flow." I hadn't seen the movie since it came out, and really enjoyed it the second time. From the reaction of one of my fellow students today (an amused laugh, on par with what you might expect if I had said I had watched "The Fast and the Furious") when I mentioned I had watched the movie last night, I assume that to the rest of the country it is a decent, entertaining genre film.
To someone from Memphis, love it or hate it, the film carries much more weight. I remember the fury in Wendi Thomas' response when it first came out, blasting it for how it represented Memphis to the rest of the world. And later, when she and Brewer met and talked, it was practically treated as a summit between diplomats, two of the major voices representing Memphis to the world.
I stand on the love-it side of the fence. I think the film peers hard and long into the despair that many people want to gloss over and finds a fairy tale of hope. I could delve into this more. I'm sure there are plenty of people who would spend plenty of time discussing or arguing this with me. (Oh, how I miss you Drinking Liberally of Memphis). But it isn't what I really wanted to talk about. I wanted to talk about the train.
Of course, it was fun, watching the movie, to see Memphis in the background. It was fun to see Vance Grocery, the tiniest flash of Beale Street, quite a bit of Lamar and Brooks. It was fun to speculate whether or not the church was Calvary and to reminisce about the Poplar Lounge. But the movie didn't make me miss Memphis too much until I heard the train.
Early in the movie, during a transition, the sound of the train rolled across the scene and punched me in the gut.
When I moved to Dallas, I the landscape felt lonely to me in a way Chicago never had. I couldn't pin it down until I came home to visit in the spring. I missed the trees on the horizon. It felt lonely without them.
In Durham, there is no loneliness for lack of trees. The trees surround the city in a bear-hug of greens and (right now) ambers and reds. Durham has the normal sounds of small city, but it lacks the bass notes of Memphis, the trains, the airplanes, the low rumbling background. Memphis has wrapped itself around the train and laid itself under the FedEx flight path and incorporated it, often without even noticing, into every aspect of life. I miss the boxcar graffiti each morning taking Southern Ave to work, the way a long train in East Memphis equalizes everyone traveling the roads, the way my mind would listen to the sound distant in the background of my evening.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Trading Time
One of the tricky things about getting all of this work done is the inevitable failure of trying to trade ahead for time. No matter how well you plan, how certain you are that you have gotten just a few hours ahead, something unexpected always zooms in to fill the gap.
For example, last night I did all of my work for today and, since I knew that my Property class reading would carry through Thursday (leaving me one less class to work for tonight) I started organizing my Contracts notes. This should have left me with only two subjects to cover tonight and enough time to either continue my Contracts review, get ahead for one of Friday's classes or meet Brandon and friends out for dinner.
What actually happened was that my Property professor had mistakenly allotted two days to the assignment that he finished in only one. Even though the schedule said that the next assignment would be covered in Friday's class, he finished the previous topic today, apologized and asked that we complete the next assignment for tomorrow (Thursday) instead. Great . . . so much for that extra time I had planned for.
I won't bore you with the other two or three little incidents that popped up to eat up 30 min here and there, but I can assure you that every minute counts. Today I had a total of 3.5 hours of class. I know that it doesn't sound like much, but it is a full day. Each of my classes had an extra long assignment tonight, so all-in-all I did 7.5 hours of homework. That's an 11 hour day already. You should also factor in that I get up an hour early each morning to work out so I don't develop a law student physique and that I tutor for an hour on Wednesdays. So, before you even factor in time to eat, shower, drive to and from school, or possibly talk to my husband for more than 5 consecutive minutes, I have already had a 13 hour day.
I'm not complaining. I knew it would be like this and I signed up for it anyway. I'm absolutely loving it. I just wanted to give a little perspective on how I manage my time right now, minute by minute. Most days aren't quite so intense. Today was an extra full day. And even today, I traded some of my time for more time tomorrow. I could have left some of my classwork to finish tomorrow between classes, but I did it all tonight, bargaining for a little extra time tomorrow night when I might start some review, get ahead, or just have time to eat dinner with my husband.
For example, last night I did all of my work for today and, since I knew that my Property class reading would carry through Thursday (leaving me one less class to work for tonight) I started organizing my Contracts notes. This should have left me with only two subjects to cover tonight and enough time to either continue my Contracts review, get ahead for one of Friday's classes or meet Brandon and friends out for dinner.
What actually happened was that my Property professor had mistakenly allotted two days to the assignment that he finished in only one. Even though the schedule said that the next assignment would be covered in Friday's class, he finished the previous topic today, apologized and asked that we complete the next assignment for tomorrow (Thursday) instead. Great . . . so much for that extra time I had planned for.
I won't bore you with the other two or three little incidents that popped up to eat up 30 min here and there, but I can assure you that every minute counts. Today I had a total of 3.5 hours of class. I know that it doesn't sound like much, but it is a full day. Each of my classes had an extra long assignment tonight, so all-in-all I did 7.5 hours of homework. That's an 11 hour day already. You should also factor in that I get up an hour early each morning to work out so I don't develop a law student physique and that I tutor for an hour on Wednesdays. So, before you even factor in time to eat, shower, drive to and from school, or possibly talk to my husband for more than 5 consecutive minutes, I have already had a 13 hour day.
I'm not complaining. I knew it would be like this and I signed up for it anyway. I'm absolutely loving it. I just wanted to give a little perspective on how I manage my time right now, minute by minute. Most days aren't quite so intense. Today was an extra full day. And even today, I traded some of my time for more time tomorrow. I could have left some of my classwork to finish tomorrow between classes, but I did it all tonight, bargaining for a little extra time tomorrow night when I might start some review, get ahead, or just have time to eat dinner with my husband.
Friday, September 28, 2007
Happy Birthday to Me!
I will only be a reckless twenty-something for six and a half more hours. Well, since I was born in Memphis, and I'm an hour ahead of the Central time zone, perhaps I will be a reckless twenty-something for seven and a half more hours.
Regardless, tomorrow is my birthday!
Hooray!
If you are reading this, then you probably know me well enough to know that I practically consider my birthday a national holiday.
And this . . . this is my thirtieth birthday, three decades on this earth.
Sometimes when I make a big deal out of being excited about my birthday people give me an uncomfortable, half-embarrassed, tolerant look, the kind of look you might give someone who is bragging a bit too much about something great they did. I understand where this is coming from for these people, but I think it is wrong. I guess they see celebrating your own birthday as akin to celebrating how great it is for the rest of the world that you were born. That would certainly be a little braggartly and uncomfortable. But that is not what I'm celebrating, and I feel sorry for these birthday-impoverished folks.
To me, my celebrating my birthday is celebrating how thrilled and grateful I am to have been born, to get a chance to live and grow and change. I try to remember to be grateful for life everyday, but it is really easy to get caught up in the daily dramas. So tomorrow, if you talk to me, and I sound like I am just bursting with happiness that it is my birthday, I am. I am proud to exist, and excited to interact with the world, and grateful for how lucky and joy-filled my life has been thus far. I am leaping into thirty and into my thirties with excitement and anticipation. That is quite a lot to celebrate.
Happy Birthday to me!
Regardless, tomorrow is my birthday!
Hooray!
If you are reading this, then you probably know me well enough to know that I practically consider my birthday a national holiday.
And this . . . this is my thirtieth birthday, three decades on this earth.
Sometimes when I make a big deal out of being excited about my birthday people give me an uncomfortable, half-embarrassed, tolerant look, the kind of look you might give someone who is bragging a bit too much about something great they did. I understand where this is coming from for these people, but I think it is wrong. I guess they see celebrating your own birthday as akin to celebrating how great it is for the rest of the world that you were born. That would certainly be a little braggartly and uncomfortable. But that is not what I'm celebrating, and I feel sorry for these birthday-impoverished folks.
To me, my celebrating my birthday is celebrating how thrilled and grateful I am to have been born, to get a chance to live and grow and change. I try to remember to be grateful for life everyday, but it is really easy to get caught up in the daily dramas. So tomorrow, if you talk to me, and I sound like I am just bursting with happiness that it is my birthday, I am. I am proud to exist, and excited to interact with the world, and grateful for how lucky and joy-filled my life has been thus far. I am leaping into thirty and into my thirties with excitement and anticipation. That is quite a lot to celebrate.
Happy Birthday to me!
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Doggie Trauma
I an really not interested in doing my Legal Writing homework right now. Instead, I'm going to tell you about the extra excitement we've had here this weekend.
Brandon's sister Chelsea was in town Thursday night for work, so she stayed the weekend to visit. On Friday, Brandon was working, so I picked her up and we ran to Chapel Hill so I could get my hair cut. The Aveda Institute is wonderful and very, very affordable. They even give you a mini facial when they do your shampoo. Next weekend I'm going back to get my hair colored. My appointment is going to be on my birthday, and when I told Clarissa, the stylist, she wrote it down so she could remember to bake something for me! I think it would be a little crazy if she actually did, but you all know how much I love my birthday, so I wouldn't turn it down. Anyway, Chelsea hung out while I got my hair cut; then we headed home to meet up with Brandon.
After giving the tour of the new house, we were all sitting around catching up and talking about where we'd go to dinner. Brandon was petting Maddie and happened to notice that she had been chewing at her tail. Maddie is a pretty rough and tumble pup. She gets little nicks and scrapes all the time. It is usually no big deal, but she wouldn't let us anywhere near this one. I had to hold her down while Brandon looked at it, and even then he could only tell that it was dark and looked bloody. She would walk two steps, stop, chew at her tail, walk two more steps and then stop again. It was only4:30, so we called the vet, and they said to bring her in just in case.
Maddie and I got the vet and waited a while. Maddie's a really friendly dog, and she loves everyone at the vet's. So, we talked to the receptionist, met a couple of other dogs coming in and out, and waited. When they took us into the exam room, they lifted her on the table. They held her still to look at the tail and said that it might be a spider bite. They sent me out front to wait and took her in the back to give her a shot for the pain and to shave her tail. I could hear her crying while I waited.
They came out and told me that it was probably a spider bite, possibly a brown recluse. It had probably only happened that morning or the night before, and she'd been chewing at it and making it worse. The center had a big section of necrotic skin, skin that had died from the venom. (I won't link you to pictures of brown recluse bites or necrotic skin because they are is pretty gruesome. Go look them up, if you're curious.) She said that, since the bites usually necrotise down into the body instead of out to the surrounding skin, and there isn't far down to go in the tail area, the wound had probably already hit nerve, which was why Maddie was in such sever pain. They brought her back out front, and she couldn't move her tail without crying. Even after the painkiller shot, just the movement of air on the wound was hurting her. They fit her with a cone collar and sent us home with two doggie pain prescriptions and a strong antibiotic. The cone is to keep her from chewing at it and making it worse. The vet told me that she had seen dogs who had chewed their tails completely off from something like this.
Maddie cried off and on most of the night on Friday as the pain medication kicked in and wore off. By yesterday, she was much better. She seemed more bothered by the cone than the wound. Today, she is even better, but the wound still looks terrible. I need to clean the it, but I have to wait for Brandon to get home; she still won't let me near it.
Here's a picture of Maddie being cute in her satellite cone. Below that I'll post a picture of the wound, so don't scroll past the first picture if you don't want to see it.
Pictures of the nectotizing spider bite wound below.
You've been warned.
Brandon's sister Chelsea was in town Thursday night for work, so she stayed the weekend to visit. On Friday, Brandon was working, so I picked her up and we ran to Chapel Hill so I could get my hair cut. The Aveda Institute is wonderful and very, very affordable. They even give you a mini facial when they do your shampoo. Next weekend I'm going back to get my hair colored. My appointment is going to be on my birthday, and when I told Clarissa, the stylist, she wrote it down so she could remember to bake something for me! I think it would be a little crazy if she actually did, but you all know how much I love my birthday, so I wouldn't turn it down. Anyway, Chelsea hung out while I got my hair cut; then we headed home to meet up with Brandon.
After giving the tour of the new house, we were all sitting around catching up and talking about where we'd go to dinner. Brandon was petting Maddie and happened to notice that she had been chewing at her tail. Maddie is a pretty rough and tumble pup. She gets little nicks and scrapes all the time. It is usually no big deal, but she wouldn't let us anywhere near this one. I had to hold her down while Brandon looked at it, and even then he could only tell that it was dark and looked bloody. She would walk two steps, stop, chew at her tail, walk two more steps and then stop again. It was only4:30, so we called the vet, and they said to bring her in just in case.
Maddie and I got the vet and waited a while. Maddie's a really friendly dog, and she loves everyone at the vet's. So, we talked to the receptionist, met a couple of other dogs coming in and out, and waited. When they took us into the exam room, they lifted her on the table. They held her still to look at the tail and said that it might be a spider bite. They sent me out front to wait and took her in the back to give her a shot for the pain and to shave her tail. I could hear her crying while I waited.
They came out and told me that it was probably a spider bite, possibly a brown recluse. It had probably only happened that morning or the night before, and she'd been chewing at it and making it worse. The center had a big section of necrotic skin, skin that had died from the venom. (I won't link you to pictures of brown recluse bites or necrotic skin because they are is pretty gruesome. Go look them up, if you're curious.) She said that, since the bites usually necrotise down into the body instead of out to the surrounding skin, and there isn't far down to go in the tail area, the wound had probably already hit nerve, which was why Maddie was in such sever pain. They brought her back out front, and she couldn't move her tail without crying. Even after the painkiller shot, just the movement of air on the wound was hurting her. They fit her with a cone collar and sent us home with two doggie pain prescriptions and a strong antibiotic. The cone is to keep her from chewing at it and making it worse. The vet told me that she had seen dogs who had chewed their tails completely off from something like this.
Maddie cried off and on most of the night on Friday as the pain medication kicked in and wore off. By yesterday, she was much better. She seemed more bothered by the cone than the wound. Today, she is even better, but the wound still looks terrible. I need to clean the it, but I have to wait for Brandon to get home; she still won't let me near it.
Here's a picture of Maddie being cute in her satellite cone. Below that I'll post a picture of the wound, so don't scroll past the first picture if you don't want to see it.
Pictures of the nectotizing spider bite wound below.
You've been warned.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Lacking Perspective
Lately, my eyes have been excruciatingly tired by the end of each day. Law school isn't a good time to not take care of your eyes, so yesterday I went to the eye doctor to have my glasses checked. The doctor first took my glasses to measure the lenses and determine the current prescription. He checked the left lens and said, "Huh, there is nothing in this one." No big deal. I know that I have one near-sighted eye and one far-sighted eye, and I didn't remember what my prescription had been in January. So, then he checked the right lens and said "Hmm, nothing in this one either." He checked the lenses on two different machines and had the lab tech check them too. Nothing in either lens but the anti-reflective coating.
That's right, for the last 9 months, I have been wearing FAKE GLASSES.
The old prescription wasn't that strong, so it isn't that unbelievable that I didn't realize it. I had gone without them for a week while they changed the lenses. I can't explain how horrified, angry and embarrassed I was. The poor optometrist was really nice about the whole thing. He said he'd seen glasses before that weren't the prescription that they were supposed to be, but they had never seen a pair that just didn't have anything.
Today, I went and picked up my old glasses with my new lenses. It was an incredible transformation. I have been living in a haze for nine months.
The woman who fit my glasses when I picked them up today laughed but said it wasn't the worst she'd seen. She once helped a woman who had been wearing glasses for a year with the bifocal lenses upside down .
That's right, for the last 9 months, I have been wearing FAKE GLASSES.
The old prescription wasn't that strong, so it isn't that unbelievable that I didn't realize it. I had gone without them for a week while they changed the lenses. I can't explain how horrified, angry and embarrassed I was. The poor optometrist was really nice about the whole thing. He said he'd seen glasses before that weren't the prescription that they were supposed to be, but they had never seen a pair that just didn't have anything.
Today, I went and picked up my old glasses with my new lenses. It was an incredible transformation. I have been living in a haze for nine months.
The woman who fit my glasses when I picked them up today laughed but said it wasn't the worst she'd seen. She once helped a woman who had been wearing glasses for a year with the bifocal lenses upside down .
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Resumed Innocence
One of the public interest extracurriculars available to join at Duke is the Innocence Project, the organization of students, teachers and legal advisers that work to overturn wrongful convictions. When I mentioned this to Brandon he said something along the lines of, "Oh, that's great. So you're going to work on that, right?" Right. How could I not. It is right up my bleeding-heart alley. I do believe there are people in our prison system who have been wrongly convicted of crimes the didn't commit. I don't think there are enough people out there fighting for justice in their cases.
Today I went to the first informational meeting about working on the Innocence Project. They have been careful to tailor categories of work so that each student can offer as much or as little of a commitment as she feels she can handle. I'm definitely in. (Now, don't worry, this will build on and enhance my law school experience, not take time away from it.)
This morning, due to some very long term work of Duke Law students and some dedicated (Duke alumni) council Dwayne Allen Dail has been given back his freedom. Eighteen years ago he was falsely convicted of raping a twelve year old girl. Last week the evidence from the trial, which had been "lost" for eighteen years, showed up when an officer retired. One account in the news says that the box was mistakenly stashed away in a corner of his office. Another article says that a pair of officers found it while cleaning out a storage room. Completely unconfirmed accounts said something about a motorcycle shed at the officer's home. Regardless of why the evidence was missing for 18 years, it contained DNA evidence that conclusively cleared Dail.
Today I went to the first informational meeting about working on the Innocence Project. They have been careful to tailor categories of work so that each student can offer as much or as little of a commitment as she feels she can handle. I'm definitely in. (Now, don't worry, this will build on and enhance my law school experience, not take time away from it.)
This morning, due to some very long term work of Duke Law students and some dedicated (Duke alumni) council Dwayne Allen Dail has been given back his freedom. Eighteen years ago he was falsely convicted of raping a twelve year old girl. Last week the evidence from the trial, which had been "lost" for eighteen years, showed up when an officer retired. One account in the news says that the box was mistakenly stashed away in a corner of his office. Another article says that a pair of officers found it while cleaning out a storage room. Completely unconfirmed accounts said something about a motorcycle shed at the officer's home. Regardless of why the evidence was missing for 18 years, it contained DNA evidence that conclusively cleared Dail.
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