Announcement ...

I recently watched Twilight. I did not hate it. Mostly because I did not hear the word "dazzling" even once ...

One month, and counting ...

I am brushing my teeth, 10 minutes ago, in my pajamas. Faintly from the next room, I hear Hot Rod Hundley streaming in. And I am seven years old again. Eight years old. Nine years old. Coming from a family party in December. Leaving a ward basketball game in January. Sitting in the backseat of the car, Mom and Dad in the front, listening to Hot Rod Hundley on our ride home.

I have no idea what the man looks like, but the sound of his voice evokes my childhood. Dad driving, going home ...

Today in school ...

Today in school I learned that drug and alcohol addictions are bad.

It took four guest speakers in my (not tax) class to explain this to my classmates. (Next step: Explain to law school administration that providing abundant, free alcohol at every school function really detracts from this message ...)

Dear Girls at GW ...

Since you clearly do not live with anyone willing to tell you when you look ridiculous, please note the following:

1. Thick black tights are not pants.
2. Thin white leggings also lack necessary pant qualities.
3. Long shirts are not dresses, and consequently do not remedy the aforementioned issues ...

Thanks,

C.

Ode to the Washington Post ...

This week, a friend asked me about my favorite part of the weekend. I answered honestly: Reading the newspaper. (Nerd alert, in case you missed that in the previous 100 posts on this blog.) Some people like to party. I like to read newspapers in my pajamas. This explains too much about me.

I read newspapers every day, in print (thank you, Washington Post, for the free Express I read on the Metro, and for the free full edition I pick up every Tuesday at school) and online, but on Saturdays and Sundays I get the Washington Post delivered right to my door. Where I can spread it out on the table (sorry, C.) and read it leisurely along with every meal.

It has been a bad year for newspapers. Every time I hear about another newspaper ending its print edition and publishing only online, I feel depressed. Now I realize I am biased about the subject, graduating in print journalism, interning at a newspaper and paying for a trip to Europe in part with an early-morning newspaper route. But I still think our society would be better if every home subscribed to a newspaper, and every child had access to one growing up. Not because we should believe everything we read in a newspaper (although it comes much closer to the truth than the infotainment currently masquerading as television news) but because it makes us actually think about our world. And by our world, I mean our very own communities. Because sorry folks, but unless you live somewhere very big or somewhere beset by something very bad, CNN will not be covering your neighborhood, your state legislature, or the local school board meeting. Your local television station might. But if they do, they will devote an entire 30 seconds to it before switching to a five-minute investigation about the perils of pedicures.

I loved Sunday mornings at home, drinking orange juice with my parents, each of us reading a section of the newspaper and then trading. Dad started with sports or travel, I chose the front page, and Mom usually ended up with the metro section. When one of us (OK, when Mom or I) read something of particular interest, we shared it (and then inevitably I would try to read the interesting article over her shoulder until she got annoyed enough to switch sections with me). Somehow, I cannot envision such a lovely scene taking place over a laptop or even an iPhone.

Obviously, I would spill the orange juice on the keyboard and ruin the whole thing. But I would also miss the smell of the newsprint, and happening upon article gems scattered throughout the pages when I am looking for the ending of another article or just perusing the pages. Articles like this one, which I found today in the print version of the Post and am linking here for your reading pleasure. Hypocritical given my current argument, yes, but I am not saying I am opposed to online news, just that I like real newspapers much better ... so much better ... and we still need them around ...

P.S. I should also mention my love for the Washington Post Magazine. It has some delightful features perfect for Saturday morning breakfast reading. My personal favorite: DateLab, where the magazine sets people up on blind dates. (Given my vast amount of experience with such dates, of course I like to read about others faced with such woes.) This week, the magazine also provided me with some career advice if the whole lawyer thing does not work out. Just click here to find out ... (even better, I think I saw this belly dancer in action last year, on a pseudo-set-up date, of course) ...

Politcally Incorrect ...

So, yesterday in class (tax, of course, for some reason the only class I talk about this semester) we were talking about a hypothetical scenario. The scenario included a person and her "partner." So the person answering the question assumes "business partner." A logical conclusion, right, since the topic of class did involve business. Wrong. The teacher informed him she meant "life partner." Last time I checked, which was this morning, tax law was confusing enough without such problems. And, silly me, I thought law school taught us to be precise in choosing our words. I have accepted that most professors consider it practically criminal to refer to someone as "husband" or "wife" rather than "spouse," but really, when we have perfectly adequate and clear one-word descriptions, why must we resort to these bland and confusing substitutions?! All political issues aside, isn't every "life partner" either a girlfriend or a boyfriend or a husband or a wife (or a spouse if you must)?!

In other politically incorrect news, I have some advice for the president: If you cannot go on a late-night television show without offending someone (which I am pretty sure no politician alive can do while being funny at the same time) maybe you should just focus on trivial things like, oh, running the country, and save your potentially offensive remarks for Congress. I think your advisers forgot to tell you that the campaign for being most popular ended a while ago, and now we want that promised hope and change and joy and love ...

This just in ...

A sentence I just read in my tax casebook: "Notice the surprising hierarchy of authority: Although we saw in the previous set of materials that the NCAA is more powerful than the IRS, it now becomes apparent that the IRS is (sometimes) more powerful than the Supreme Court."

Dad, I thought you would be pleased to know that the NCAA is apparently more powerful than the IRS. Maybe this information could be useful in justifying attendance at college basketball games. And perhaps this explains why March Madness occurs before April 15th ...