Monday, October 30, 2006

For Angela

This Poko?

You Know What He Did?

I had almost forgotten about this video, although I'm not sure how I could have.

Sunday, October 29, 2006

WOULD YOU LIKE BEAR ON YOUR ICE CREAM?

Okay. I'm done now.

I Used to be 12(b)(6)

YOU ARE RULE 20(a)!You are Rule 20, an important part of the Federal Rules' policy of permissive joinder. You are designed specifically to allow as many parties in an action as can be tried efficiently, and you'll include someone as long as there is some factual overlap between a claim involving them and the rest of the case at hand. You are popular, out-going, and are never far from friends. However, your overly gregarious nature and magnanimous approach do make things a bit crowded--you're the reason that lawsuits are often cluttered with innumerable parties and even more numberous claims for relief. Still, despite the crowds that you attract, you can't argue with the efficiency of getting everything done at once!

Female Archetypes

Today Osler's Razor posted about a little girl in cheerleading garb waving around her Barbie dolls at a football game and had a link to this article citing Barbie's controversial nature. If Barbie has been controversial from her inception, there is nothing new about this considering the fragile self-esteem of the children playing with her. The ideal female body changes with time and varies among cultures as can be seen from the marked differences between Rubens's models and Kate Moss. As I was pondering Barbie and the hotly contested healthiness of her proportions, it occurred to me that she bears a striking resemblence to a fertility totem. Albeit this, to us, is far more aesthetically pleasing





than this (an actual fertility totem):

In my search for pictures of a more modern Barbie, I ran across the picture below. She has apparently be updated to have more realistic proportions, but I'm thinking that this isn't just a whole hell of a lot healthier for little girls:

What were they thinking? Egad! Put the boobs and the hips back on her and give the poor doll some clothes before her little plastic bits are exposed for the world to see. It's bad enough never being able to find both of your shoes! I need to see Lawyer Barbie in a really bitching power suit or at least a college Barbie who is wearing something other than a cheerleading outfit.

Moving on to the Bratz dolls, which I'm seeing more of in Walmart than Barbie these days, we're still having problems here, I think. Behold:

At this point, I'm going to just listing:

  1. Their lips scare the hell out of me.
  2. They have that lollipop head thing going on that is so common with anorexia patients. I have to say though, I'm a little more comfortable with this proportion problem, because their feet are also overlarge and so it's more cartoon-y, less, you could look like this if you starved hard enough.
  3. They're called Bratz. 'Nuff said.
  4. Some of their outfits are a little CFM for me.

Kudos though on a less severe body-type overall and on a little more diversity. We can do better though:

This is a MyScene doll. And aside from the purple metallic lips, she looks pretty normal! Those are normal-ish clothes, and fully acceptable proportions. Make-up is still a little hooker-ish, but I've been accused of doing my make-up like a drag queen's more than once, so I'll go with it. This outfit notwithstanding, I think we're on the right path here.

Saturday, October 28, 2006

School Shorts


I have two rather...interesting...stories for you today from the world of public high schools.

First, in a move that has caused shock and consternation the world over, two new york high school girls were forbidden from wearing their Captain Underpants costumes to school for Super Hero Day. The costumes consisted of nude-colored leotards and stockings and a pair of briefs and a red cape to complete the ensemble. Although the girls were not naked, and the costumes were not see-through, the girls were sent home because the principal deemed that they "looked" naked.

I really can't decide which aspect of this is the stupidest. However, I could see myself donning something similar and thinking it was a good idea in high school, so I'm going to go with the high school: This was not completely outside of a foreseeable range of possibilities. These books are very popular with school-aged children, and I'm sure the absurdity of them makes them at least somewhat popular with high school kids, at least as a topic of jokes and conversation. Narrow it further, and I don't think it's a stretch to consider students' showing up in any kind of nudity-simulating garb to be outside of the range of possibilities when you have a costume-y theme-y kind of day. Beyond that, I think it is probably standard procedure to include in a dress code down on paper somewhere that no form of underwear be visible at any time. What I'm saying, is that the school should have worked this sort of thing out before announcing the day and sent around a handout describing acceptable guidelines for the students' outfits. Handled correctly, this situation would not have become even lukewarmly debated.

Second, we have the principal who gave his student a wedgie--and wasn't fired. In fact, all he was given was a six-day suspension, and four of those days were with pay. According to this principal's superintendent, although the behavior was clearly "inappropriate, unprofessional and unacceptable," it did not merit termination.

You really should click on the link and read some of the quotes the locals managed to produce. The whole thing is entirely absurd on such a grand scale because there are people who are just as vehemently supporting the principal as there are those who are outraged.

At the end of the day, here's what it comes down to. Many people may really like this principal as a person, but he is clearly not fit to be a high school principal. One of the first things that has been drilled into people working with children nowadays is to be careful how you touch children. You don't want lawsuits. I worked in a day camp one summer, and they simply told us, "It's sad, but you can't have them in your lap because we don't want to get sued." Also, in a work environment, when is it ever a good idea to touch someone's underwear??? That principal was at work, and some schools of thought would suggest that the student was too. Either way, wedgies are, to say the least, grossly unprofessional.

But here's big thing about the principal giving your child a wedgie: It's like the state government itself gave your child the wedgie. That principal is a state employee and more often than not a state actor while at his job. Think about the intimacy that you've quietly allowed your government by not being angry over this. The state has touched your child, and thats more than a little scary to me.

Crack is Whack

I Don't Really Want to Go Here


Ok. More weird celebrity stuff that I want to ignore, but I can't because if I do I will have an aneurysm, and you will find me dead on the floor, and we will all know why.

This quote keeps popping up all over the place:

"I shocked myself," he says of his performance of a trash-talking teen. "There were parts that I wish I would have done different, but there are parts that really took me, like, 'Wow, did I do that?' I looked at myself and I was like, 'It looked good. It looked perfect.'"

That was Kevin Federline on his C.S.I. appearance, which you can see here.

Two things that bother me about this:

  1. It's not that long. This quote gives me visions of his sitting at home with the remote and poking Britney every time he notices something new about his stunning performance which he has set to play on a repeating loop. This kind of awed behavior over one's own very brief performance is only okay to admit when done so with a certain sense of naïveté best pulled off by very young girls rather than, well, K-Fed.
  2. In acting, as well as in life, K-Fed doesn't demonstrate just a whole lot of range. I don't even feel he is playing a character here--well at least not a character beyond himself. I feel we can consider his persona to be something of a character anyway, but this is still just the same one. I'm not feeling the angst. I'm also wondering just a teensy bit, where his urban factor comes from. I suspect that there might be a fake factor as well any time a white person acts like this on this grand of a scale without a tale of an inner city childhood. I tend to feel like Federline needs to authenticate some cultural ties here that I can't seem to dig up on the Internet (hard to find anything pre-back-up-dancing.) Maybe someone should send him a MySpace message about it. Might make us all feel better to know, since knowing is half the battle.

Is It Chrismuchanakwanzikuh Already?


I'm a little in love with FedEx-Kinko's, but when I called them three nights ago, they traumatized me, just a little bit. Or a lot.

"Happy Holidays from FedEx-Kinko's, this is F.E.K speaking!"
I nearly ran off the road.
Ever since I have had a deep and recurring desire to put up my Christmas tree the minute I get back home (which is Thursday.) And each time I get really confused because I start thinking, "Why the hell do I want to put the tree up already?"
Damn you, Fed-Ex Kinkos. Damn you.

Friday, October 27, 2006

In Lieu of Friday Bear

This is just the thing for those of you seeking fodder for procrastination.

Celebrity Haiku Friday


I cried at divorce
I am a little obsessed
Damn you, Newlyweds!

Sunday, October 22, 2006

Night of Too Many Stars

That's one way to fight autism.

Immaculate Debacle


In the words of Charlie Brown: Good grief.

I have been trying desperately not to comment on this woman's adoption, but I just can't handle it any more; it has become way too much of a circus. It's almost like verbal tennis at this point. In case you have missed any of it, I have graciously provided my own personal synopsis below.

Media: Madonna is adopting.
Madonna: I'm not adopting.
Media: You're adopting.
Madonna: Okay, okay, I'm adopting, but it's none of your business. Filthy American press...
Media: What was that?
Madonna: Oh, nothing, nothing. Pip. Pip. I'm just glad I'm British now.
Media: Madonna adopted.
Madonna (silence)
Media: The father is happy.
Father: I'm happy!
Media: Madonna got a buy.
Madonna: I did not! Everything was completely legal. And normal. More importantly, legal.
Father: So happy.
Media: It's not normal. International parents adopting infants from Malawi are required by law to live in the country for like two years to make sure they are fit to parent.
Madonna: Well, I...really?
Malawi: Everything is normal here. Pay no attention to the cones behind the curtain. People do this all the time.
Media: Who?
Madonna: I did!
Malawi: She did.
Media: The child will grow up with every comfort and lead a bright future in Britain as Madonna's newest child.
Father: Wait.
Media: What?
Father: I've been talking to Human Rights...
Human Rights: Hey y'all!
All: Hey.
Father: And...um...I don't get my kid back?
Media: Father duped. Did not understand what adoption meant.
Madonna: Even I know what adoption means.
Father: I thought he was going to come back when the good lady was done with him.
Madonna: Don't you listen to stand-up? I'm never done. It's, like, my thing. Besides, I am very committed to...OH A BUTTERFLY!
Child: Oh god.

Good Boy



He has done well. I shall suffer his presence another day.

Saturday, October 21, 2006

A Bear-y Happy Anniversary


Fiancé and I have been in cahoots for two years now, and today is the anniversary of our first outing. I did not manage to get the letter I wrote him in the mail, so I am going to post it here for him. :)

My Dearest Fiancé,
I cannot believe that it has been two whole years! It seems both longer and shorter at the same time. It seems only yesterday that you were at Bar Review in your blazer with
R introducing you as the smartest guy in the law school.
It certainly did not take long before I felt that you were a completely indispensible part of my life and of myself. I have come to love you more than I can say, and I cannot picture my life without you. Every moment with you is the perfect moment. I can think of no better way to spend the rest of my life--and no better person to spend it with. I cannot wait to be Mrs. Trudlybear-Lofatatupu-Undi.
I love you, Babies!
Your Sunbear

Friday, October 20, 2006

Ors de Vendredi!

Haiku Friday

Hotel is boring.
Fat bears don't work very hard.
I want to be one.

Culture v. Culture



There's not just a whole lot that I will miss about working in the "hospitality" industry (seems almost a euphemism for "working in a hotel," doesn't it?) For one thing, it seems that almost no one's jobs require a college degree which results in lots of employees' being in high school or simply exhibiting high school-ish behavior.

However, one of the more interesting aspects of working in this particular hotel is the clientele. It is not unusual to have several celebrities in-house on a given night. For instance, right now we have had both a legendary rock band and a famous folk/pop singer staying here since I have been here. They both have aliases, and great care is taken to check them in inconspicuously and to keep their identities and rooms a secret. M calls me at work every day to see who is staying that is famous and whose bus that is outside, but she's usually more in the know than I am.

That having been said, I generally have no interaction with our VIP guests--or any other guests for that matter. I hide back in my hidey-hole/cave (pictured here) and answer phones during most of my shift. I also go through our VIP packets and make sure that VIPs are marked as such in our computer system.

This is what I was doing last night when the Universe did grin upon me and taunt me with a great waggling of its infinite fanny in my general direction.

I discovered that John Updike will be arriving at the hotel the day I arrive back at school. He is staying with his wife under his own name and will be signing books in his hotel room. Oh. My. Gosh. I love his Rabbit books. Basically, Updike's prose has all the delicate beauty of poetry. The man could write about a compost heap and he'd make you want to roll in one. The kind of roll that's sensual. I know, I know, but just trust me on this one.

When I came home last night, I was bursting to tell M my exciting news until I realized that I was pretty sure I knew exactly where that conversation would go:

Oso: Did you hear? John Updike is coming to the hotel!
M: Who?
Oso: John Updike.
M: I don't know who that is.
Oso: Only, like, my favorite author of all time! Okay, he's at least in my top three. He wrote the Rabbit tetrology.
M: The what?
Oso: You know, Rabbit, Run, Rabbit Redux. You know, the Rabbit books.
M: You are so weird. Such a geek.
Oso(hanging head): I know. I know.
M (brightly): So did you find out whose bus that was?
Oso: No.
M(deflating slightly): Oh. You never find out anything important, do you?

I find it fascinating that what our culture as a whole seems to place the most value on is not what we designate as "culture." That is, the great marketplace of ideas is bifurcated into the loud hubbub of the popular yet ephemeral market of celebrity and catchy tunes and the quiet but diligent ongoing exchange of ideas conveyed through the written word, research, and visual arts; and we as a culture clamor for the music and the celebrities to the point that they must hide their whereabouts to avoid the mob while some of our most brilliant artists quietly check into their hotel room, unload their own luggage, enjoy a cup of tea, and then welcome whoever will come to hear their quiet wisdom and pearly words.

Thursday, October 19, 2006

Nooooooooooooooooooo!

This heralds the beginning of a long night of drinking.

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

Excerpt

One of the best parts of taking time off from school has been that I can read what my stepmother calls "worthless books." Worthless books are books that are just fun to read and don't really make you think or change the world or really redeem themselves in any kind of cosmic way. I think of them as brain candy.

You Have to Kiss a Lot of Frogs is one such book that I am reading right now, courtesy of M. I would never own such a book, but she has a vast library of them that I have been taking advantage of. Here is an excerpt from Frogs that I found highly amusing (it's actually a whole chapter):

New Year's Day
Chelsea, NYC 1992
The day after the party he called. I was bedridden, feeling comatose from the twenty-four-hour bug that had hit six hours earlier.

"I was so glad you gave your card to my sister," he said.

I'd thought his sister was his wife. They were holding hands all night.

"Can we go out?"

"Okay," I mumbled in my delirium.

"I'm so anxious to see you," Arthur blathered. "I've never been this excited before. How's Thursday? What do you like to do for fun? Am I too forward?"

"No. No."

"Do you think it's a possibility we're going to have a great time?" he questioned. "I want you to come to this date really open with positive feelings. I'll talk to you before Thursday. I can't wait. This will be the best date of our lives."

We never went out. He never called.

Arthur must have literally burst from anticipation.

The Yorkie Gods Have Smiled on Me At Last!


Ursa and I have been discussing with each other the concept of the Yorkie gods and their expressed displeasure with me.

You see, I used to be a great favorite with the Yorkie gods. They smiled on me early in life and granted me my very first job. When I was but a lowly snot-nosed brat in eighth grade, a former teacher of mine hired me to care for her dogs whenever she left town. Now, this was a very good gig for me. Mrs. A and her husband went to each and every single home game of their alma mater which was several hours away, so their absences were frequent. Also, they lived in a penthouse on the water with a magnificent view, killer sound system, plush furnishings, and expanded cable, which is where I stayed when I dogsat for her. The dogs themselves were little Yorkie darlings who were a lot of fun to play with and fairly easy to care for. Since then I always had a soft spot for the breed.

So, when M got her little Yorkie puppy, I was initially excited. That excitement faded quickly, however. She is overly excitable, still isn't potty trained, and no amount of washing can get her to stop smelling so miserably dog-like.

The Yorkie gods continued to grimace at me this week at work. A couple of our guests had brought their Yorkie with them to our pet-friendly hotel. The little dear was dressed in fully doggy couture that M and I estimated to be at least $800. And no, we weren't kidding. $800 for a black doggy T-shirt. Anyway, the guests didn't want their dog to be alone while they went around the city and saw the sights, so they left him in our office to take care of. At night, that meant they left him with me. Initially, I was excited. After all, Bad Dog had not completely soured me on the breed yet--just mostly. Well, Yorkie #2 finished that off. He yipped and cried and fussed and refused to play. he wanted to be held the entire time. I was not willing to do this however, considering that at some point before he had come into our office he had peed all over the bottom of his very expensive shirt. Meanwhile, I was still taking calls and trying to sell rooms at our very luxurious property--while a dog yipped and cried in the background.

It was at this point that Ursa asked me how and when I had angered the Yorkie gods and suggested that I go about trying to appease them.

It seems that things have finally balanced out, however. This week, M announced that Bad Dog is going to be attending doggy daycare!!! How exciting is that? There will be no unauthorized bodily fluids or canine offal to clean up until I come home at night at ten, no barking, no yipping, no crying, no chewing, no biting...you get the idea. Almost as good, last night, M invested in a Yorkie-proof baby gate and we lined the kitchen with housebreaking pads. It looks like my Yorkie luck is turning around at last....

Monday, October 16, 2006

You Gotta Love Lawyers

I totally just fell off the couch. Thanks to Lee Carver for the video.

Sunday, October 15, 2006

Neutral Third Party Last Names


I have a running joke with Fiancé about choosing a neutral third party last name. For a long time, the leading favorites were Lofatatupu and Trundlybear. It's not that I don't like Fiancé's last name, and it's not that I don't like the sound of his tacked onto mine. I even like the initials alright, but the thing is that after nearly a quarter of a century with my last name, I'm a little bit attached to it. I also want to have the united front of our both having the same last name. To me, it only stands to reason that if I have to give up my last name, he should have to give up his too. Thence the neutral third party last name.

Working in the hotel has given me lots of fun new ideas. I run through the lists of arrivals each day hoping to glean a few potential winners out of 100+ guests that I can present to Fiancé. Frankenheimer, Klaubber (which I like to pronounce like "clobber,") and Cherie. All pretty good names. Today, however, I hit the jackpot. Today, I found the name that I feel sure Fiancé will proundly want to announce to the world: Undi. No umlauts. No accents. Undi. Which I am pronouncing like the things you wear under your clothes and not like "oondy."


The best part would be the introductions:

"Hi! We're the Undi family!"

What a Bunch of Ignorant Crackers....



Come closer. We need to talk about something that is apparently becoming a recurring problem: Texas students having racially-themed parties.

I'm not naive enough to think that students in other states aren't doing it too, but I'm not hearing about them, so I'm going to work with what I've got here.

First, in Spring 2006, one of the fraternities at a private, Baptastic university in central Texas held an E-Dawg-themed party. The big stir hit when pictures of the party surfaced on Facebook featuring one girl who had slathered herself in self-tanner, presumably to appear "blacker." When this came out, I read a lot of what was written and thought, "Well, that was stupid. Yawn." I mean, it was foolish, but not so remarkable. It's not a great idea, but I could see how a bunch of boys around a beer keg could decide that it was okay.

Appropriately, the school's response was fairly swift and very PR-oriented. Students received emails expressing regret and understanding and discussions were held wherein people prayed and talked about their feelings and diversity. Okay. Yawn, again. Standard fare.

Then, just recently, a group of students at the state's largest law school held a similar party themed "Ghetto Fabulous." As far as I know, no pictures have been leaked yet. I find this controversy to be far more interesting. For one, only approximately 61.54% of that law school's students are white. My guess would be that percentage was much higher in the private undergraduate institution (I couldn't find the actual numbers.) Also, presumably, a group of graduate students would be more sensitive to the implications of celebrating unflattering racial and socioeconomic steroetypes both because of age and because of education. Finally, the law students in question already had the E-Dawg example before them as proof that this sort of thing is not well received by a good many people, and understandably so. All that to say that I find it interesting that against the backdrop of broader diversity, a presumption (rebuttable, clearly) of higher average maturity and level of education, and a common knowledge of prior such incidents, the law students chose to do this anyway.

Bravo. I want you taking my case.

However, even more interesting, is the dean's e-mail to the law students. Whereas the response in the fraternity party situation was one of at least apparent remorse and attempts at understanding, it appears that the law school took a rather, well, flip view of things. The e-mail suggested that next time the students thought about having such a party they ought to "think twice" and that they would have plenty of opportunity to screw minorities once they were lawyers. Now, again, I'm not so stupid as to think she was serious in that comment or that it was a suggestion of any kind, but it did show a marked lack of respect for the sensibilities those who were offended by the party. In short, it wasn't very PR-friendly.

The dean was also quoted as saying something along the lines that in the end this wasn't about discipline but was about education. Hmm.

Mild Discomfort


I can't help but feel a little uncomfortable about this. I don't really have a good reason why, but I wanted to go on the record with that. I think it might be because they didn't do the same thing with the men.

Update: That's exactly where the ick-factor came from. I just saw the link to the men's contest, and felt instantly better about the whole concept.

Some New Reading Material


As you can see on the sidebar there, I have added two new linkworthy bloggy linkses. I ran across Sitting There Alone and Dead Man's Honda today and have spent the last hour or so giggling at them. They tend to have the same sort of luck as I have, it seems, that results in good anecdotes, and their serious posts are really good too.

Enjoy!

PS, I'm not sure what the sheep in that picture is doing, but I ran a Google Image Search on "blog," and this was the best hit that came back. I chose not to ask questions.

This Is Going to Be Awkward....



Much to my relief, my financial situation has now resolved itself in such a way that I will be able to return to law school next term. Next term, however, begins on November 6, so that puts me needing to put in my two weeks' notice to the hotel...oh...now-ish.

Here is the dilemma: As far as the hotel is concerned, I did tell them that I was here indefinitely. While this is technically true, that word often suggests a longer, rather than shorter, period of time. I don't think that anyone here had any idea at all that this could be just a month long stint. I like my manager though, and I'd like to be courteous enough to give her the full notice.

But.

After having spoken to people who have quit the hotel, there is about a fifty-fifty chance that once I turn in my notice, I won't be working anymore (i.e., I might as well have given a day's notice because I won't be working another two weeks.) I absolutely need the income for another two weeks, so I pose the question to you, dear reader: what to do?

Ought I give the full two weeks to be polite and risk losing two weeks more of pay? Or do I wait a week, and then give notice, knowing that I will have at least one more week's pay?

Thursday, October 12, 2006

Kitty Cat Dance

I've been having a tough week, but then Fiancé sent this. The quality of my life has just jumped nearly ten points.

Sunday, October 08, 2006

Eats, Shoots, and Pronunciates


This woman is a genius. According to her, apparently, "pronunciate," "resiculous," and "categorizable," are, like, words, yo. Words that should be said in an interview.

She is also not necessarily denying that she has wet her pants on stage.

Thursday, October 05, 2006

You Know You Want Him


MSN.com now had a photo gallery up that is entitled "Clay Aiken Through the Years." Just how many years? Not that many since I'm pretty sure this has happened while I was in college, which means sometime in the last six years or so. If anything, I think we get to make fun of him for having so many looks in so little time. Because he's a man. And that's what you do when men change their "look" that often. Or even claim they have a "look."

Katie's Revenge

I find it interesting that although the Bible teaches that a man who is guilty of one sin is guilty of all sins, yet even the criminals among us find some acts more heinous than others. There is something innately human about the need to quantify, qualify, and categorize the world around us. I once had a science teacher who theorized that the fulfillment of this need is the quest to fulfill the commission in Genesis to take dominion over Earth and all its creatures. I don't know what I think about that, but it is still interesting to think about.

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Making My Day, One Carter at a Time

This totally did make my day. It's as though RuPaul and Jerry Springer's love child is trapped inside each of the Carter brothers.

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

Capote Redux

Hasn't this been done already?

I Can't Escape It

For those of you who feel that $60 plus shipping and handling is entirely too much to spend on a blender, I'm right there with you.

For those of you like Ursa Minor, you will envy me when I tell you that I answered M's door this morning to find the FedEx man eagerly delivering the Magic Bullet, which was apparently M's with only three easy payments.

I'm going to want someone to prove to me exactly how this is different enough from any other blender to merit its high cost.

Also, I'm a little worried about the marketing team that came up with the name for this very expensive blender.

For a Good Time, Click....


My new favorite game is Puppy Curling.

Sunday, October 01, 2006

Looking Down Their Eiffel Tower at Us

It's no big secret that the French feel that Americans are too narrow-minded and conservative in many things. Well, I'd just like to get it into the record that they aren't totally open-minded as a society on at least some modern issues. I read this article today in Le Monde, which is the main national newspaper of France. To save you the trouble of translation, basically it is a discussion of gay marriage. There is actually an organization mentioned in the article that is against the whole idea. They speak of gay marriage and adoption in terms of a decline of the nuclear family, even. As forward-thinking as they like to think the entire country is, it would seem that, just like the Americans, not everyone agrees on the newest ideas.

Looks like we aren't all that different after all.

"Pull My Finger."

Right now, I'm working in a hotel. Today, two bellmen walked into my office into the cubicle behind me. One of them broke wind--loudly. The other snickered silently as though I probably hadn't heard that. Then they left.

What a special time for us all.

Where's the Chocolate?

If you look really hard, you will be rewarded....