. . .
Jul 31, 2007
stupid: having to turn on the air conditioner because the very air attacks my face
better steer clear. my nose and eyes are out to get me, and they'll settle for you.
. . .
. . .
Jul 29, 2007
Jul 28, 2007
fourteen thousand words
My place in NP. I can't touch those bushes, I'm allergic to them. There are now flowerpots on the front porch. That garage door in the middle is mine, all mine. The window to the left of the front door is the kitchen, with the living room to the right. On the south side of the house there, there's another kitchen window (I went from zero to 2 kitchen windows in 60 seconds), then the side door (I have two doors!), then the bathroom window, then one of the bedroom windows.
This is a tasty rhubarb custard pie HDL, AJD, and I made while I was in Lincoln before I moved out here. Harris takes the cake for the crimping.
This is a crazy NP sky from several weeks ago. We get good, fast storms here. Today it was more of an all-day sort of thing, more like rainy days in New York. Nice.
These are some sunflowers I raised from wee seeds. They're about twice that height, or more, now. Other sunflowers around town are already blooming, but I got a late start.
Walmart has great deals on gladioli.
I-80 runs straight, for 3 hours and 15 minutes, from NP to Lincoln. It's a drive I anticipate doing many, many times. You can see in this picture, A., a cool car on a truck, and B., that in Nebraska, when we have construction on the roads, the speed limit decreases to 65 mph (about 104 km per hour).
Ear-candling w/ PMcCMcS in Lincoln. So far as I know, it doesn't work, but it was an amusing pastime.
The glads look cool when they're dead, too.
This is my cheap, easy way of making stained glass. Food coloring and jars.
The neighbor kids, Nick and Delaney. I like how they were riding bikes in the rain with umbrellas (Nick had tossed his a few moments before), and that Bear got to come too.
I went to some garage sales around town today and bought these amazing old quilts for a grand total of $25. One lady knocked $10 off the price merely because I looked at the quilt for a while without saying anything (she would never make it in a ghanaian market). Both handmade, all cotton. The second one was made by the grandmother of the woman selling it, and she had to be over 65 herself.
There's no point in buying dresses if I just wait around for events to come around that deserve them. So I decided that this day deserved this dress. It's pretty fun, I'm going to make a habit of it, I hope. It ain't no lie, I like polka dot dot dots.
You'll notice there are no pictures of bar study. Nobody wants to see that, ew.
. . .
This is a tasty rhubarb custard pie HDL, AJD, and I made while I was in Lincoln before I moved out here. Harris takes the cake for the crimping.
This is a crazy NP sky from several weeks ago. We get good, fast storms here. Today it was more of an all-day sort of thing, more like rainy days in New York. Nice.
These are some sunflowers I raised from wee seeds. They're about twice that height, or more, now. Other sunflowers around town are already blooming, but I got a late start.
Walmart has great deals on gladioli.
I-80 runs straight, for 3 hours and 15 minutes, from NP to Lincoln. It's a drive I anticipate doing many, many times. You can see in this picture, A., a cool car on a truck, and B., that in Nebraska, when we have construction on the roads, the speed limit decreases to 65 mph (about 104 km per hour).
Ear-candling w/ PMcCMcS in Lincoln. So far as I know, it doesn't work, but it was an amusing pastime.
The glads look cool when they're dead, too.
This is my cheap, easy way of making stained glass. Food coloring and jars.
The neighbor kids, Nick and Delaney. I like how they were riding bikes in the rain with umbrellas (Nick had tossed his a few moments before), and that Bear got to come too.
I went to some garage sales around town today and bought these amazing old quilts for a grand total of $25. One lady knocked $10 off the price merely because I looked at the quilt for a while without saying anything (she would never make it in a ghanaian market). Both handmade, all cotton. The second one was made by the grandmother of the woman selling it, and she had to be over 65 herself.
There's no point in buying dresses if I just wait around for events to come around that deserve them. So I decided that this day deserved this dress. It's pretty fun, I'm going to make a habit of it, I hope. It ain't no lie, I like polka dot dot dots.
You'll notice there are no pictures of bar study. Nobody wants to see that, ew.
. . .
Jul 26, 2007
there's an empty space where the studying used to be
Well, that bar exam was really draining and I'm pretty bored with thinking about it, so it's time to move on, time to get going. I leave the thriving, culture-filled metropolis of Lincoln tonight for my cowboy town, to begin my long-delayed actual living of life there. I'm ready to do something. I won't find out whether I passed until September, so I'm limited, work-wise, but at least my brain'll be free (of mnemonics, doctrines, and, most importantly, guilt) to absorb whatever information I feel like putting in front of it.
. . .
. . .
Jul 23, 2007
it's true
(cue "Eye of the Tiger")
I'm going to win this exam, just see if I don't. I'll one-third win it tomorrow, and two-thirds win it on Wednesday. I'm going to win the big blue ribbon and the shiny brass trophy. I'm going to WIN.
. . .
I'm going to win this exam, just see if I don't. I'll one-third win it tomorrow, and two-thirds win it on Wednesday. I'm going to win the big blue ribbon and the shiny brass trophy. I'm going to WIN.
. . .
Jul 22, 2007
inching over
Hey, does anybody know how I can get the layout here not to have that extra blank space over there on the left (or at least not so much of it)? I'm still using the "classic" template because the newer ones are no good (e.g., the polka.dot.dot.dot part gets cut off). I've tried fooling around with it and successfully made the "main" section bigger today, but any bigger and the left sidebar disappears for some reason.
. . .
. . .
Jul 16, 2007
it's summertime, and the corn is sweet
Back when I was waitressing at the Taste of Darkness, lo, in 1994, occasionally the owner/cook would grill herself up some corn on the cob right there on the gas stove, seasoned with salt and chili powder. I was a little suspicious--how do you top butter? But it is tas-t. I haven't had it since, but being back in corn country reminded me and I tried to make it this afternoon. It doesn't really work on an electric stove, alas. (Or rather, I was too chicken to put the corn directly on the heating coil, and I couldn't get it to work right in a frying pan.) But you people with gas stoves are made in the shade. Just turn on the gas, maybe at low or medium, then put the corn right on top of the burner and turn it occasionally till it's cooked. Then sprinkle w/ the aforesaid salt and chili. If like me you're burdened w/ electric, then just boil as usual and then season w/ salt and chili. It kind of reminded me of ghanaian street food, actually, what with the chili powder.
This website has more cooking corn ideas (read thru the comments--there are other indoor cooking options, like broiling, and somebody recommended a squeeze of fresh lemon juice too).
. . .
Jul 15, 2007
i'm pretty sure i just saw jupiter
I went outside the other night for the first time in the real dark here. That's a little weird, but it's a combination of the amazingly long days and the fact that I've been doing nothing but studying. And tonight I went out again! I'd forgotten how great night is. Anyway, there's a widget (software) for macintoshes that shows you which stars/planets/constellations are visible in the night sky. It's too bright in my front yard to see much clearly, but I probably definitely saw a very bright Jupiter. Or a very bright something. I don't think I've ever seen Jupiter before. So this day wasn't a complete waste of real experience. Then I tripped on my front steps, which is also more memorable then studying. Not too bad for a little venture into the wilds of the front yard.
. . .
. . .
Jul 13, 2007
twin twisters
The sirens have been thwooping and thwooping around for the past hour. They say that, aside from the tornadoes themselves, the storms are capable of baseball-sized hail and insane-o winds. Apparently that dark purple color in the middle of the red is pretty rare.
. . .
. . .
Jul 10, 2007
I'll have to learn and that's the hardest way, ooh la la.
This song has been in my head for the last few weeks, my bar study theme song:
The Faces' Ooh La La (from the Rushmore soundtrack)
. . .
The Faces' Ooh La La (from the Rushmore soundtrack)
Poor old Granddad
I laughed at all his words
I thought he was a bitter man
He spoke of women's ways
"They'll trap you, then they use you
Before you even know
For love is blind and you're far too kind
Don't ever let it show"
I wish that I knew what I know now
When I was younger.
I wish that I knew what I know now
When I was stronger.
The Can Can's such a pretty show
They'll steal your heart away
But backstage, back on earth again
The dressing rooms are grey
They come on strong and it ain't too long
Before they make you feel a man
But love is blind and you soon will find
You're just a boy again
When you want her lips, you get a cheek
Makes you wonder where you are
If you want some more and she's fast asleep
Then she's twinkling with the stars.
"Poor young grandson, there's nothing I can say
You'll have to learn, just like me
And that's the hardest way
Ooh la la"
I wish that I knew what I know now
When I was younger.
I wish that I knew what I know now
When I was stronger.
I laughed at all his words
I thought he was a bitter man
He spoke of women's ways
"They'll trap you, then they use you
Before you even know
For love is blind and you're far too kind
Don't ever let it show"
I wish that I knew what I know now
When I was younger.
I wish that I knew what I know now
When I was stronger.
The Can Can's such a pretty show
They'll steal your heart away
But backstage, back on earth again
The dressing rooms are grey
They come on strong and it ain't too long
Before they make you feel a man
But love is blind and you soon will find
You're just a boy again
When you want her lips, you get a cheek
Makes you wonder where you are
If you want some more and she's fast asleep
Then she's twinkling with the stars.
"Poor young grandson, there's nothing I can say
You'll have to learn, just like me
And that's the hardest way
Ooh la la"
I wish that I knew what I know now
When I was younger.
I wish that I knew what I know now
When I was stronger.
. . .
you too could pass the bar
Even you non-j.d.s, even junior high school kids could pass if all the questions were like the following slice of ridiculousness on my practice exam. Just to make it clear just how stupid and annoying this question is, I have highlighted the only pieces of information necessary to answer it.
Question 185 (also known as How to Draw a Rectangle)
Venn entered into a written contract with Purch for the sale of Scrubacre [that's how they name parcels of land, but you don't even have to know that to answer this question], a large tract of land in a sparsely populated area of the state. The contract set forth an accurate metes and bounds [I've never heard the term metes and bounds before, but that doesn't matter either] description of the land based on a survey that Venn had undertaken before putting the property up for sale. At closing, Purch discovered that the deed was incorrectly transcribed and did not agree with the description of the land in the contract. Purch refused to proceed with the closing and brought an action to reform the deed to make it conform to the intention of the parties. The deed described the property to be conveyed as follows:
I. From the southwest corner of Section 25 of Township 2 North, Range 6 West, Cimmaron Base and Meridian, proceed South 45 degrees East 200 feet to the South Basin Irrigation Canal;
II. From that point, proceed South 45 degrees West 100 feet along the Scrub Basin Irrigation Canal to its intersecion with State Highway 11;
III. From that point, proceed North 45 degrees West 200 feet along State Highway 11;
IV. From that point proceed South 45 degrees East 100 feet to the starting point.
Which of the following corrections should be made for the deed to properly describe Scrubacre?
A: Direction I. should be changed to "South 45 degrees East 100 feet."
B: Direction III. should be changed to "North 45 degrees West 100 feet."
C: Direction III. should be changed to "North 45 degrees East 200 feet."
D: Direction IV. should be changed to "North 45 degrees East 100 feet."
criminy.
. . .
Question 185 (also known as How to Draw a Rectangle)
Venn entered into a written contract with Purch for the sale of Scrubacre [that's how they name parcels of land, but you don't even have to know that to answer this question], a large tract of land in a sparsely populated area of the state. The contract set forth an accurate metes and bounds [I've never heard the term metes and bounds before, but that doesn't matter either] description of the land based on a survey that Venn had undertaken before putting the property up for sale. At closing, Purch discovered that the deed was incorrectly transcribed and did not agree with the description of the land in the contract. Purch refused to proceed with the closing and brought an action to reform the deed to make it conform to the intention of the parties. The deed described the property to be conveyed as follows:
I. From the southwest corner of Section 25 of Township 2 North, Range 6 West, Cimmaron Base and Meridian, proceed South 45 degrees East 200 feet to the South Basin Irrigation Canal;
II. From that point, proceed South 45 degrees West 100 feet along the Scrub Basin Irrigation Canal to its intersecion with State Highway 11;
III. From that point, proceed North 45 degrees West 200 feet along State Highway 11;
IV. From that point proceed South 45 degrees East 100 feet to the starting point.
Which of the following corrections should be made for the deed to properly describe Scrubacre?
A: Direction I. should be changed to "South 45 degrees East 100 feet."
B: Direction III. should be changed to "North 45 degrees West 100 feet."
C: Direction III. should be changed to "North 45 degrees East 200 feet."
D: Direction IV. should be changed to "North 45 degrees East 100 feet."
criminy.
. . .
Jul 9, 2007
stories (in descending order of length)
A banner day here in NP. Things are moving and spinning.
I went to the post office this morning to mail my practice test off to the poor man in Chicago with the annoying job of running scantrons thru a machine, and, as has so far been my luck, there was only two other post office patrons, one being helped at the counter and one in line. The post office here is notorious for its long waits (they have 4 slots at their counter, but there's often only one clerk), but, as I said, so far I've been lucky. Right after I got there, about 6 other people also arrived and got in line behind me. The dude at the counter got done and then the lady in front of me went up, so I was first in line and kind of spacing off. Then another person came in to whom I didn't pay much attention until I realized that the person (who was wearing loud, clompy shoes) was making a lot clomps more than was necessary to get to the back of the line, which was right next to the door. So I kind of glanced over and he was on his way up to the front of the line, and wearing an eye-wrenchingly bright orange coat to boot (it's been 90+ degrees here). He came up to the front of the line and just stood what would have been in front of me, if we'd both been acknowledging there was a line, about three feet away. I looked at him, and he just looked back without acknowledging in any way that anything weird was going on, which I wasn't expecting, so I just nervously smiled at him. Then I looked at the other people in line to see if they had a clue and they were all staring at him with this weird expression on their faces too. So I says to myself, I says, well, either he's crazy, he's really stupid, or he's got some kind of emergency and either way I don't need to get in his way. Then the lady at the counter got done and he clomped on up there (he was wearing cowboy boots). I waited very expectantly to see what would happen, whether it was an emergency or if his craziness or stupidity were going to show themselves in some interesting way or other. But instead, the orange-clad guy just said something very banal, like "I need a book of stamps." And the rather meek, cute little old postal worker looks at this guy (and at about this point my imagination started to run wild and I thought maybe he had a gun and was going to shoot all of us b/c he had that bright orange coat on like a hunter might wear), and he said, um, did you just cut in front of all those people in line? And the guy was like, No. And the post office guy was like, um, there's a line there. And the guy was like yeah, but they're over there. (It wasn't such a big room, and it was quite clearly a line, in my opinion.) And the post office guy said, um, you need to wait in line. Mr. Orange was kind of irked, but he was like, fine, whatever, I'll wait in your stupid "line." (that's not exactly what he said but it was the same tone.) And then the post office guy was just too nice and he caved and got him the stamps. And then the lady next to me, I looked at her with this incredulous look on my face, and she kind of laughed and shook her head and said, well, I wasn't in a hurry to get to work this morning anyway. In Brooklyn that guy wouldn't have made it past three people in line w/o having someone yell at him, nor would anyone have made lemonade with those there lemons. People here (aside from some lawyers I've heard about) are amazingly conflict-averse.
Later on, a very vicious-seeming dog decided chasing me on my bike and barking hysterically was a good thing to do. This scared the crap out of me, and I slowed down for some reason, looking for its owner, I guess. No owner appeared and the dog was still going berzerk, so I was like, hell, I'm on a bike, I can outgun this dog anytime, so I sped up a lot. Dog was going so fast it was blurry, not losing any ground at all, and I was coming up on intersections with stop signs. So I slowed down again, trying to keep my leg, the nearest biteable bit, out of range, and looked around incredulously for its owner. Finding none, and losing hope, I just yelled HEY really really loud, hoping that some distracted owner would appear and call the apeshit beast off. That didn't happen, but it did seem to frighten the dog, or at least convince it that I wasn't to be trifled with, for it turned around and trotted off. Or maybe I just got out of its range, I don't know. Next time I'm going to yell a lot sooner. Shortly thereafter, a bug flew into my open mouth and down my throat whilst I was tweedling down the road, happily unchased, on my bike. I think that right after I rode off, the dog died, was reincarnated as a bug and, knowing me so well, decided that zooming down my throat was the best way to get me.
My mother has very kindly offered to treat me to some massages while I prepare for the bar. So today I decided to investigate the massage parlor situation here, which investigation started off with asking our office paralegal, who has lived here for 50 years and knows everything and everybody, and when she doesn't know, she knows who'll know. In this case, she didn't know, hadn't ever gotten one, but, typically, she knew who'd know. So she got the county attorney on the phone, who had a couple of recommendations for me, and, it turns out, also lived in my apartment at one point. This is a pretty common occurrence here, it seems. You'll just be talking to some random person and it'll turn out they've lived in your house. It's almost like we're related. Small towns are funny. I also routinely run into my colleagues and my neighbors at the grocery store.
On a more long-term note, it seems my desperately-unhappy-in-NP colleague will be hitting the road sometime this month or next. So they're sending me a new boss. The new boss has worked here before, actually, last year and the year before. The office today was all drama, all the time.
. . .
I went to the post office this morning to mail my practice test off to the poor man in Chicago with the annoying job of running scantrons thru a machine, and, as has so far been my luck, there was only two other post office patrons, one being helped at the counter and one in line. The post office here is notorious for its long waits (they have 4 slots at their counter, but there's often only one clerk), but, as I said, so far I've been lucky. Right after I got there, about 6 other people also arrived and got in line behind me. The dude at the counter got done and then the lady in front of me went up, so I was first in line and kind of spacing off. Then another person came in to whom I didn't pay much attention until I realized that the person (who was wearing loud, clompy shoes) was making a lot clomps more than was necessary to get to the back of the line, which was right next to the door. So I kind of glanced over and he was on his way up to the front of the line, and wearing an eye-wrenchingly bright orange coat to boot (it's been 90+ degrees here). He came up to the front of the line and just stood what would have been in front of me, if we'd both been acknowledging there was a line, about three feet away. I looked at him, and he just looked back without acknowledging in any way that anything weird was going on, which I wasn't expecting, so I just nervously smiled at him. Then I looked at the other people in line to see if they had a clue and they were all staring at him with this weird expression on their faces too. So I says to myself, I says, well, either he's crazy, he's really stupid, or he's got some kind of emergency and either way I don't need to get in his way. Then the lady at the counter got done and he clomped on up there (he was wearing cowboy boots). I waited very expectantly to see what would happen, whether it was an emergency or if his craziness or stupidity were going to show themselves in some interesting way or other. But instead, the orange-clad guy just said something very banal, like "I need a book of stamps." And the rather meek, cute little old postal worker looks at this guy (and at about this point my imagination started to run wild and I thought maybe he had a gun and was going to shoot all of us b/c he had that bright orange coat on like a hunter might wear), and he said, um, did you just cut in front of all those people in line? And the guy was like, No. And the post office guy was like, um, there's a line there. And the guy was like yeah, but they're over there. (It wasn't such a big room, and it was quite clearly a line, in my opinion.) And the post office guy said, um, you need to wait in line. Mr. Orange was kind of irked, but he was like, fine, whatever, I'll wait in your stupid "line." (that's not exactly what he said but it was the same tone.) And then the post office guy was just too nice and he caved and got him the stamps. And then the lady next to me, I looked at her with this incredulous look on my face, and she kind of laughed and shook her head and said, well, I wasn't in a hurry to get to work this morning anyway. In Brooklyn that guy wouldn't have made it past three people in line w/o having someone yell at him, nor would anyone have made lemonade with those there lemons. People here (aside from some lawyers I've heard about) are amazingly conflict-averse.
Later on, a very vicious-seeming dog decided chasing me on my bike and barking hysterically was a good thing to do. This scared the crap out of me, and I slowed down for some reason, looking for its owner, I guess. No owner appeared and the dog was still going berzerk, so I was like, hell, I'm on a bike, I can outgun this dog anytime, so I sped up a lot. Dog was going so fast it was blurry, not losing any ground at all, and I was coming up on intersections with stop signs. So I slowed down again, trying to keep my leg, the nearest biteable bit, out of range, and looked around incredulously for its owner. Finding none, and losing hope, I just yelled HEY really really loud, hoping that some distracted owner would appear and call the apeshit beast off. That didn't happen, but it did seem to frighten the dog, or at least convince it that I wasn't to be trifled with, for it turned around and trotted off. Or maybe I just got out of its range, I don't know. Next time I'm going to yell a lot sooner. Shortly thereafter, a bug flew into my open mouth and down my throat whilst I was tweedling down the road, happily unchased, on my bike. I think that right after I rode off, the dog died, was reincarnated as a bug and, knowing me so well, decided that zooming down my throat was the best way to get me.
My mother has very kindly offered to treat me to some massages while I prepare for the bar. So today I decided to investigate the massage parlor situation here, which investigation started off with asking our office paralegal, who has lived here for 50 years and knows everything and everybody, and when she doesn't know, she knows who'll know. In this case, she didn't know, hadn't ever gotten one, but, typically, she knew who'd know. So she got the county attorney on the phone, who had a couple of recommendations for me, and, it turns out, also lived in my apartment at one point. This is a pretty common occurrence here, it seems. You'll just be talking to some random person and it'll turn out they've lived in your house. It's almost like we're related. Small towns are funny. I also routinely run into my colleagues and my neighbors at the grocery store.
On a more long-term note, it seems my desperately-unhappy-in-NP colleague will be hitting the road sometime this month or next. So they're sending me a new boss. The new boss has worked here before, actually, last year and the year before. The office today was all drama, all the time.
. . .
Jul 7, 2007
bwb
La Matriarch should have her own blog. She says:
Maybe for Polkadotdotdot?
One time I stumbled upon BetterWorldBooks.com. This is a non-for-profit used book store in Mishawaka, IN, that puts the profits from book sales into literacy programs. Their prices are competitive…shipping in the US is free and they actually charge a “carbonfee” ($ .03/book) r/t to the carbon cost of shipping. So when I’m looking for a book to buy on line, I check their website first. I just ordered an adventure story for g’son Mark which will, I think, entertain him - as well as contribute to a literacy program. Sweet, huh?
Mother
yep, sounds pretty sweet to me.
. . .
Maybe for Polkadotdotdot?
One time I stumbled upon BetterWorldBooks.com. This is a non-for-profit used book store in Mishawaka, IN, that puts the profits from book sales into literacy programs. Their prices are competitive…shipping in the US is free and they actually charge a “carbonfee” ($ .03/book) r/t to the carbon cost of shipping. So when I’m looking for a book to buy on line, I check their website first. I just ordered an adventure story for g’son Mark which will, I think, entertain him - as well as contribute to a literacy program. Sweet, huh?
Mother
yep, sounds pretty sweet to me.
. . .
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