Incomprehensible ...

"People do a poor job of predicting their preferences in

situations they have never experienced."

Rebecca Dresser, Precommitment: A Misguided Strategy for

Securing Death with Dignity, 81 Tex. L. Rev. 1823 (2003).

(Finding that a line about medical directives -- living wills -- can be basically be applied to the human experience as a whole.)

J.D. ...

just one more year.

Interviewing for a post-graduation job was a pretty good way to celebrate the first official day of the last year of classes. Cross your fingers for me. I won't hear until Oct. 15th at the earliest whether I'm employed or not.

Even though we are on Day 1, I've already pulled a 4 a.m. study night thanks to law review training. I have no doubt this year will keep me as sleep deprived as the rest. But coming back to campus made me realize how much I love the people I'm surrounded by every day and how much I will miss them when this crazy adventure is over. I can't think of a group of people I would have rather done this with.

Kindle killed the radio star ...

... and Borders Bookstore.

We passed Borders on the way home from a wedding today. EVERYTHING MUST GO!! the sign read. And there were big numbers like 25, 40, and 50 in red with percent signs followed by the word "off."

So of course we stopped. And then I walked out without a single book. Because even cut in half a hardcover book is still more expensive than downloading the Kindle version.

Let the convicts go?

Prison reform was already on my mind, but then last week I toured the Utah State Prison. Something needs to happen. And not just of the sake of the convicts.

States who have increased incarceration efforts have actually seen increases in crime rates, not decreases. We cannot continue to keep dumping people who are demonstrating anti-social behavior into such a toxic environment and then expect they will come out "cured." The recidivism rate is staggeringly high. We know what's happening and yet we continue to throw people in, knowing full well they will be more dangerous and more likely to harm more victims upon release.

Perhaps even worse are people who really shouldn't be there in the first place. Since state run mental health institutions were largely shut down (and for good reason) in the 1970s, the U.S. prison system has become the #1 provider for the mentally ill. This is unconscionable. Can you think of a worse place to treat mental illness than prison? Or what about low-level drug addicts?These people need treatment, intervention, and a job. They do not need to be locked away from society for a year or two where they are learning from the lowest and most crime-prone we have to offer at ridiculously high costs to taxpayers. We could be getting these people multiple college degrees for the price we are paying to have them "educated" by thieves, rapists, and dealers. It's a waste of both financial and human resources.

Please don't misunderstand me. There is a place and a need for incarceration. I'm working on two cases right now where it is clear there is just no other solution to keeping the community safe from continued attacks by these people. Serial rapists can't be rehabilitated. Anyone who rapes and beats a 72-year-old woman to death with no remorse and then blames her for the attack deserves life in prison or worse. And how else do you keep white collar criminals from defrauding innocent victims except by locking them away? But the system is broken and when we are locking away people who by and large have committed non-violent crimes and constitute no threat to society except perhaps general stupidity, there has got to be another way.

So here's my list of prison reform reads and listens: In Defense of Flogging. This NPR report about the book by Peter Mosko has many interesting points. It defends corporal punishment as an alternative to incarceration for non-violent crimes. Not necessarily my version of reform, but creative and designed to at least move the discussion forward. Next, The New Jim Crow by Michelle Alexander. The former Supreme Court law clerk, ACLU attorney, and now prison reform activist exposes the systematic incarceration of black men. Her main point? Blacks will never have equal voting power in our democracy when so many of them are being unfairly slapped with "felony" status eliminating their right to vote. And the move from the KKK intimidation to poll taxes or literacy tests to keep the black vote out to targeting black men for felonies was purposeful. I'm skeptical of any conspiracy theory. But her numbers are hard to discount. If you don't want to read the book, but are curious/skeptical of what she has to say, a short summary she wrote is here and one of the most interesting NPR reports I've listened to is here. And finally, this piece by Pat Nolan and Newt Gingrich. See? I'm all over the political spectrum today. From ACLU to Gingrich. But I guess that's the point. Prison reform isn't a political issue. It's a safety issue and a humanity issue. Everyone from all parties agrees the system is broken and people from all parties largely agree on how things could be improved. The problem is getting this into the forefront. The people making the decisions (voters like us) aren't in prison so it's not really impacting us. And most of us know so little about how the system works we are afraid that tweaking it will mean more hardened criminals on the streets, not less. Not so, says Gingrich. And finally, this New York Times piece by one of my professors about changing the way we approach parole.

Thoughts?

Memories ...

I was greeted yesterday by a beautiful bouquet of flowers on the counter. "Happy Anniversary Week!" the card said. "With love," from my husband. He even remembered that lilies were in my bridal bouquet.

Then today he greeted me at the door with chocolate dipped strawberries. "It's the second day of anniversary week!" he said excitedly.

It definitely has been a week full of wedding reminiscing. Two years later we can finally afford the wedding album we originally passed on. We've spent more than a couple hours trying to narrow down the bzillion shots our photgrapher took down to 36 (and let's be honest, my organizational skills are not the best so we spent at least half that time looking for where I put the darn CDs). I know it's silly, but I am SO excited! I realize this is an entirely vain, useless, expensive purchase. But we're solid now. We were giddy then and oh-so-in-love, very much like today only without quite so much giddiness perhaps. But now I also know we're going to last. And so the pictures are more than the pretty dress or the fancy hair, the slick tux, or the posed positions. It's about the fact that that day means I get today, and tomorrow, and the day after that with the man I love. And now I have the pictures to prove it.

Even better, one of my dearest and closest friends is sealing the deal this weekend, so there has been much wedding talk of a more current nature as well. We have a beautiful dinner to look forward to on Friday, and a sealing and reception on Saturday. I'm taking a little extra pride in this match since I was the one who set them up. What better way to spend your anniversary than celebrating the marriage of friends?

And though I'm always skittish to put up pictures online ... I figured a wedding picture or two isn't going to give too much away. Especially if I chop most of our heads off, right?

Happy Anniversary to us ... and to the other bjillion student-brides and grooms who got married in August to accommodate the start of a new semester. Ah, August. Bringing the world's two greatest pursuits together into one month -- love and higher education.

New and improved ...

The post also titled as "How You Know You're Getting Old":

My princess post got me thinking about what the heck I kept myself busy with as a little girl before the princess phenomenon took over.

There was this Fisher-Price kitchen set that was AMAZING! The play kitchen sets I've seen at friend's houses and they just don't compare. The plastic is thinner, you can only play on one side because it has to go up against a wall, and they are, of course, usually in some super girly princessy pink or purple color instead of the gender-neutral colors that meant my brother could play too without getting made fun of. They also usually have "Barbie" or "Disney" or "Dora" stamped somewhere on them. Whenever anyone little comes to my parent's house and heads down to the playroom, my mom always makes the comment that's the one thing she regrets getting rid of. Their basement is mostly outfitted for teenage and young adult enjoyment now (read: media and gaming central), but she kept a few of the toy classics for when family with youngsters visit. "What will the grandkids play with?" she asks. "The new sets just aren't as cool." Well, there aren't any grandchildren in sight for now, so she's safe there. But I still got on eBay to see if anyone still has or is selling the brilliant set I had as a kid.

Yup ... don't worry ... it's listed as "vintage."

Maybe the WaterBaby doll I played with will start showing up in museums soon.

Oxymoron...

I don't actually have a post for this letter of the alphabet. I just really like the word.

So maybe we can turn this into a "Create Your Own Adventure" post.

Do you have any favorite oxymorons?

Passing on the Princesses ...

I have nothing against pink.

When I was seven, pink and purple were my favorite colors. I'm sure it violated every piece of fashion advice ever written, but I especially loved to wear them together.

So where do authors like Peggy Orenstein get off telling us this recent wave of pretty, pink, and princesses are some newfangled trend or, even more controversial, dangerous? Little girls have always loved pink, right? Perhaps. But not to the tune of the $4 billion Disney is raking in every year off the brand. That's right -- BILLION. Pink is no longer a girl's favorite color because it's a girl's favorite color ... it's the only color anything girl related comes in. I know. I tried. My friend recently had a baby and I thought big sister might like a gift, too. Finding anything non-princess, non-pink, and even remotely related to imaginative or constructive rather than scripted or "brand-centered" play was impossible. In fact, the Disney brand was on EVERYTHING. I finally had to go the "crafts" section to pull some paint and sidewalk chalk from the back of the shelf. How could a little girl walk though an aisle and think she was anything but abnormal if she wasn't interested in pink, glittery, Disneyfied princesses. In a day and age when doors should only be expanding for our daughters, the mighty world of Disney has come in with one of the most successful campaigns in marketing history and chosen for them. Think I'm overreacting?


A couple years ago I came across this fabulously funny Sarah Haskins video. And then I came across another one you can watch here. My interest was piqued. I was only four at the time, but I still remember the day when I FINALLY got to go see Little Mermaid. For years afterward my friends and I would pretend our legs were mermaid tails and splash around swimming pools with crossed ankles. And what girl who lived through the '90s hasn't splashed up the slanted back of her bathtub singing "Part of Your World"? I was no stranger or even enemy of the Disney princess. But it seemed even more intense. My friend's little girls had princess nightgowns, backpacks, headbands, coloring books, shoes, sleeping bags, and TVs. I just didn't remember any of that stuff existing when I was four.


Turns out it didn't. My Google search yielded, among others, this article and this blog. Basically, the princess "brand" didn't even exist until 2000. Before that there were a few individual items specific to each character, but the princesses had never been "grouped" together before. Disney threw them all together, came up with a consistent color scheme -- Pantone pink No. 241 was the pink of choice -- and with the motto of "What would a princess want?" began marketing everything from alarm clocks to silverware with the royal images. And the world of little girls changed overnight.

One mother, whose blog I linked above, tolerated it all until she noticed changes in her daughter's play. Her normally active, boisterous little girl was now walking around saying "Princesses don't run or jump" and sighing helplessly explaining that "Princesses have to wait for their prince." So she did something I think most mothers with four-year-old girls (especially one whose most favorite princess is Cinderella) would be terrified to do. She threw it all out. She replaced the Cinderella Disney-made gown with a generic dress from Toys R Us. She got rid of the Patone pink No. 241 and replaced it with fairy tales and science kits and dress up. There were tantrums. At first, her choice made her as popular as an evil stepmother. But after just a little while into "Disney Princess Recovery" she noticed positive and lasting changes in her daughter. She was calmer, less concerned about what she looked like, more concerned with having fun and experiencing things. She still loves Cinderella, and pretending to be Cinderella, but the way she plays Cinderella has completely changed and is much more child-appropriate.


These mothers aren't anti-materialism hippies. They've resorted to bribes just like any other parent: "A princess eats all her vegetables." "Princesses use the big girl potty, too!" "Princess bedtime is at 8 o'clock." Their call is not for a complete ban on all things magical or make believe, but to do what for your child what she can't do for herself -- be smarter than the marketing.

Because the danger is real. When a company that has the hearts and wallets of little girls buying into this image:




partners up with the folks trying to get your pre-teen and teenage girls to buy into this:





(the description for this item reads: "From the shadows of the grotto, the lovely Ariel looks like a femme fishtale with a sultry secret. Ask her nicely and she just might sing it to you.")

or this:







there's a problem. These companies are literally cooperating to make the transition from one to the other seamless. And girls (or more accurately, their parents) are buying right into the trap. The Disney princess brand might appear safe, naieve, and a way to keep girls sheltered from ending up like slutty celebreties like Lindsay Lohan, Britney Spears, or Miley Cyrus (ironic they all got their start at Disney, isn't it?). But the constant reinforcement that a girl should always be dressed up, pretty, and in wait of a prince is the last thing a girl growing up in the age of Internet porn needs to hear. Is it any wonder that articles like "How To Talk To Little Girls" are so needed? (And if you follow only one link in this post, please, please, let this be it. Please ... I'll even wait for you to click on it ... GO!)


I would love to tell my friend about the "Disney-free" experiment. Or tell her how uncomfortable it is her daughter is so well versed about the adult relationships around her. Or express dismay over the fact she talked dad into getting her daughter a "princess makeover" on their trip to Disneyland last year (have you SEEN these things?!! They are putting MASCARA on FOUR YEAR OLDS!!). But I have a feeling it will turn out a lot like this.


Because here's the deal. The people who are already on board with me on this don't need to hear it. And the people who need to hear it will tell me I'm crazy. That I'm taking this and myself way too seriously. "Just wait until you have a daughter and her favorite princess is Sleeping Beauty. Are you really going to tell her no?" And most of all, they will be convinced their daughter does not have a problem. That tantrums over princess related behavior is normal. That it's fine for every single item they get for their birthday or Christmas to be princess related. That their vain and scripted behavior is cute, not stifling their development of compassion and adventure. That it's just a phase.


But as for me and my house ... when Baby #1 finally makes their appearance around here, and should we be blessed enough to have a girl, please pass along all the pink, purple, and the feminine you would like. But we'll be passing on the princesses. At least any of the Disney variety.








(Ready, set, comment ...)

Perspective ...

For the last month I have been a bit of a mess. A relatively happy mess, but still a mess.

Want proof? A friend sent me a three-line e-mail. I responded with a page of single spaced rambling that revealed I am, in fact, a crazy person. Dave expressed disappointment when I showed up very late for a date he'd been planning for a month because I worked late instead and the guilt reduced me to tears. For two days I subsisted entirely on chocolate chip cookies.

I reviewed that rambly e-mail, and though I feel quite badly it ended up in a friend's inbox who didn't deserve the outburst, reviewing it gave me some perspective. After sifting the truth out of the hysteria, here is what I discovered:

I have not taken a weekend in more than 11 months. I have worked 6 and 7 day weeks for almost a year. Sure, I've traveled two or three times, but my laptop was right there with me. The fact the Grand Canyon does not have wireless should neither be a surprise nor stress inducing, and yet ... I studied/competed right through Fall Break, Christmas Break (including Christmas Eve and possibly Christmas Day), and Spring Break.

The work paid off. I'm in a much more competitive position than I was 11 months ago.

This will allow me to continue to work 6-7 days a week. The better I do, the more prestigious my job prospects. The more prestigious my job prospects, the more hours I'll be "allowed" to put into the legal profession.

This craziness MUST be stopped.

So do you know what I did? I killed myself for five days, got all of my work finished before Friday at 7 p.m. And I took a weekend.

I went to a movie. I hosted a bridal shower. I did some laundry. I canned apricot jam with my mom. I went to church. And I read a book that had nothing to do with the Constitution. It was wonderful.

Two years ago, before law school, if you asked me what I liked to do, I would have told you I was a writer. I would have told you that I liked to sing, and that I loved reading the news and talking to people about interesting things. I defined myself by my faith, my relationships, my talents, and my passions. Now I define myself by the number of hours I work, the number of briefs I've written, and the cases I'm working on. When someone asks me to define myself the only thing I can think of is "law student." It's consumed me.

So this law-school-free weekend was good. I reconnected a little. With my husband, my family, myself. I'm still not sure what I want to do after law school. The clerkships, the firm jobs, they still hold some appeal. But their enticement isn't nearly as sweet after savoring so many of the other fulfilling options life has to offer over the past couple of days.

I liked this post by a classmate. I'm not exactly sure how I got here -- obsessed with the law, working insane hours and pulling all nighters in the middle of summer for no apparent reason except to meet the demands of employers and because finding the answers to questions no one else has answered is like a high. But I sure as hell am going to find my way out.

It's hard to compete with clean laundry and homemade apricot jam.

And .. whoosh!

So I know we've been on "pause" for a ridiculously long time now. Who knew it would be so tough to find a few free minutes to write about my distrust of the Disney princess brand and some thoughts on feminism?

But in the meantime, want to hear a story? My bridesmaid outfit went out the window ... literally.

I'm flying out for the wedding today. My mother-in-law made me a beautiful jacket to match the ones the other bridesmaids are wearing. We all used the same pattern, fabric, etc. in an effort to reduce the stress of people shopping for people they've never met across country and maximize the possibility of matching. Anyway, last night I got home and went to get the jacket out of the car. The hanger was right where I'd hung it. The jacket was not. The explanation? We think at some point the window was rolled down and it went flying out.

There were many tears, a lot of phone calls, and a very understanding bride and patient mother-in-law.

Somewhere in Utah a beautiful jacket in the color of "marine" is blowing around in the wind. Maybe another bridal party can put it to use?

Perilous ...

Well, we made it to the Grand Canyon and back and even survived a hike of Angel's Landing along the way! It was a bit steep and, well, narrow, but all three of us that hiked it felt very hardcore afterward.

Now that I'm back I'll be shortly resuming the alphabet posting game (you're getting excited for my anti-princess post aren't you?), though probably not every day. Clerkship applications are due this week and so life is once again consumed with school.

And the winner of the $20 gift certificate for pledging not to use the word "retard" as part of the "Spread the Word to End the Word" campaign goes to ... Natalie! I used the random number generator and #2 was the result. Yay for good causes and friends!

Spread the Word ...

Well since we're already on "pause" shall we take time for a public service announcement?

Check out this link and video:
http://www.r-word.org/r-word-not-acceptable-psa.aspx?tr=y&auid=8390385

I'm a big fan of Glee's Lauren Potter. Self-advocates rock! She's joined forces with Jane Lynch to help with the "Spread the Word to End the Word" campaign. I've posted about it here and here before.

You can take the pledge to strike it from your vocabulary, spread the word on your own blog, and then encourage others to do the same. It's easier than you think ... trust me, I know. I was terrified to approach a couple friends about their use word "retard" was making me really uncomfortable. But I knew they were good people ... I figured once they knew what they were really saying they wouldn't want to use a word that was hurtful or cruel. And I was right. The brief conversations about the word were anything but awkward and they both thanked me later saying they hadn't realized how casual they'd become with it. Don't know how to get the conversation started with those around you? There are videos with ideas on how to get the ball rolling here.

Words hurt. And they can perpetuate harmful attitudes about value, ability, and diversity. Let's make life a little less painful, huh? So go on, Spread the Word! You'll be my hero if you do. And Lauren's.

(Read the pledge and think you can do it? Inspired enough to post a link on your own blog? Comment here to let me know and I'll enter you in a drawing for a $20 gift certificate to a place of your choice. Bribery? Nah. Motivation? Possibly, right?)

And now back to our regularly scheduled programming...

Pause...

So I know it's time for my "P" entry and, believe me, do I have a doozy of a post for you.

Be prepared to take on the Disney empire, princesses, and the commercial exploitation of children.

But not for another week. See, my work schedule is crazy for the next few days and then Dave and I are headed off to the Grand Canyon through Memorial Day. So I'm going to press "pause" on this alphabet thing and leave you with a link to get you through till I'm back:

http://www.yearofdiets.com/

This is Dave's uncle Alan's blog. The premise? He's going to lose those really stubborn "last 10 pounds" over and over again trying different diets along the way. And while he's doing it he's noticing some quirky things about our relationship with food. Take a look and I'll be back next week!

Quirky ...

Some of my favorite quirks:

• The way my little brother always asks, "How's your weekend going?" even if it's the middle of the week.
• The way other little brother sticks in tongue in his cheek when he's trying not to smile or show how proud he is of something that just happened (for example, when he swishes a shot in basketball).
• The way my husband's fingers get "claustrophobic" when I hold his hand a certain way.
• How one of my best friends stutters and kind of dances around when she gets nervous.
• One of my professors has never taught a day with his shirt properly tucked in or buttoned. He's either missed a button hole or it's half falling over his pants.
• The way my mom answers the phone.

Any favorite quirks of yours?

Returned Missionary ...

First, I love NPR.

Second, I love the content of Fresh Air but I wish the host was more like Diane Rehm or Doug Fabrizio.

Anyway, the other day the creators of South Park were on the show talking about their new musical "The Book of Mormon" and the 14 Tony nominations that it's received.

It was fascinating and I laughed through the whole program. There is no doubt the pair are talented and funny comedians.

What really got my attention, though, was their fascination with missionaries. There was a lot of talk about Mormon doctrine -- whatever, I really could care less about that. Just about every Mormon I know has a different interpretation of LDS doctrine so some variation among a couple of writers wasn't anything to really interest me. There was also a lot of talk about musicals and the way they kept telling their writers and composers to "Make it more Disney! More Rodgers and Hammerstein! More Mormon! Really cheeze it up!" and when the writers or composers would say, "Well which one do you want?" they would smile knowingly and say, "It's all just different words for the same thing." That was funny, but not all that interesting because I already knew that -- Mormon culture is cheezy, it's pageant-like (heck, the Church itself pays for and produces several pageants every summer), and it's definitely Disney-like ... we are all about princesses and happily ever afters. And all in all, they sincerely meant it as a compliment. The world could use a little more optimism they said, but it would be a comedic shame not to capitalize on all the possibilities for mockery there.

But the missionary thing ... their thoughts piqued my interest. This idea that 18-year-olds from sheltered, predominantly white Salt Lake City, Utah would have anything to offer starving Africans was ridiculous to them. And they're right ... it is a little absurd. But is it really that much more absurd than 18-year-olds from predominantly white Denver or Pittsburgh thinking they will single-handedly changing the world joining the Peace Corps? Or going with a local Baptist church to build churches in Mexico? Or heck, a 25-year-old from Utah County thinking she'll make a difference by working on women's rights legal work in Samoa for six weeks? What's wrong with wanting to change the world even if your efforts don't quite live up to expectations? I think it takes a pretty serious cynic to think it would be better for all those 18-year-olds to just sit back in Utah and decide not to do anything with the knowledge they think they have. And was the culture shock the two are sure that every missionary experiences ... do they really think it's because Mormon kids have never lived outside of LDS-land before? From the way they describe the musical and the situations the pair of missionaries find themselves in, it sounds like ANY white kid from suburbia ... whether Salt Lake, Seattle, or San Antonio, would find themselves just as shell shocked by virtue of the fact they are middle class and American. Uganda isn't different from Utah because the majority religion isn't LDS, it's different because it's Uganda. I really enjoyed the interview but I was so perplexed why they thought putting two Mormon kids in a foreign country was funny simply because the kids were Mormon -- as if it was the religious difference that created all the dramatic conflict. As if it wouldn't have been equally strange or incongruous to drop two white, middle class Protestant kids in the middle of Africa? I get that the story might be funny ... I just didn't understand their reasoning for why it was funny.

The pair explained there are two great premises of their play that everyone can relate to. First, missions are a great "coming of age" story ... one of the main reasons they chose the Mormon missions as the backdrop for their story. What's better than watching two young people out in the world away from their parents on their own for the first time find their way? It's classic Broadway. And second, missions provide a great backdrop for the classic "fish out of water" storyline. Two kids from suburban America coming face to face for the first time with disease, and hunger, and war in a culture very foreign to them.

I agreed with them completely on those two points. I grew up a lot on my mission. I didn't go to Uganda. I didn't even leave the country. But I still had my eyes opened in ways I didn't expect. Who knew that there were places in the U.S. with literacy rates as low as other third world countries or where poverty could exist just miles from a thriving American city? What I didn't agree with was their conclusions: Missions are a waste of time for the missionary, the Church, and the communities they are sent to.

They expressed to the host of the show what a shame it was that these young naive missionaries get so excited and then show up in another country and realize that everything they thought was wrong and their preaching is pointless and they go home either deflated, disillusioned, or even more pious than when they left and nothing has been gained by anyone. They made it sound like coming face to face with things like hunger, disease, or war were bad things and that the Mormon kids would have been better off just staying home. For all their gentle ribbing of Mormon naivety at the beginning of the interview and the "Utah bubble," they were oddly not on board with any young Mormon actually escaping the bubble for awhile. If Mormons are too sheltered, what would be better than throwing them into third world countries or making them learn foreign languages or interact with others from a different culture? Why wouldn't sending our young men and women out to see things be good? Not just for the Church, but for them as individuals? And so what if they don't change the world or convert anyone while they're there? If religion is the sham they say it is, they should be grateful no converting occurred, but at least recognize that all the service they did along the way was at least worthwhile.

I have no issue with the two writers thinking that all religions are just interesting cultural studies in human delusion or fascination with a non-existent power. I'm woman enough to admit my beliefs are totally based on a spiritual belief and not in any kind of scientific logic. However, people aren't going to give up believing in God just because the creators of South Park told them to, so as long as they are hanging onto their "delusions" why not do some good with it along the way? I think they'd be hard pressed to find any other religion with a portion of their American believers who know as many languages and have an appreciation for as many cultures as the Mormons.

I really liked this response printed in the Washington Post:

http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/on-faith/post/why-i-wont-be-seeing-the-book-of-mormon-musical/2011/04/14/AFiEn1fD_blog.htmll.

I loved the part about them becoming ambassadors. The returned missionaries I know who served in other countries ADORE the places they served. They often have flags from the country hanging in their apartments. They still cook exotic foods to remind them of the two years they spent from home. They watch the news carefully for news about the places they served. Jon Huntsman, who is anything but an Orthodox Mormon, ended up returning to the culture he gained appreciation for on his mission as a real American ambassador. You might think the preaching is a waste of time, but can anyone really argue that sending young people, regardless of their faith, out into another culture for a couple of years is really useless? Well, apparently the South Park writers can. They made a whole musical out of it. Your thoughts?

(You can listen to the full interview HERE.)

Sadness and Smiles ...

There's a lot of sadness going around lately it seems.

But there's also a lot of smiles.

I've always thought life was funny because of that. How for one person you know, their entire world is crumbling, and for another everything is bliss, but they are existing at the same time in the same place. For example, a couple weeks ago my coworker's mother died. She was devastated. But the same week a classmate was having a baby. For one family life was beginning, for another life was drawing to a close. All at the same time. Dave and I said goodbye to some good friends this week before they moved. It's crazy to me that this weekend they will wake up in an entirely new home but everyone else will wake up in the same place they always do and go about their day like nothing has happened even though everything will be different for them. Every day at work I read about horrible crimes that occurred, but then take breaks to check e-mails for updated wedding plans from friends. There are murders to solve and crimes to prosecute at the same time that bridal showers need to be thrown and cakes need to be ordered.

For me? Right now I feel pretty in the middle. No pregnancies or new jobs or new homes or new anything really special to celebrate or smile about. But nothing tragic is going on either. I feel a little like I'm stuck in neutral, but I don't mean "stuck" in a negative way. I'm just kind of idling along and I like it.

I feel bad I can't do more to relieve some of the sadness. Maybe that's what being in the middle of sadness and smiling is all about. The ability to do one or the other depending on what the others around you need you to do.

This post is getting rambly, so I'll stop, but I hope all of you get to smile today. And that if you are experiencing sadness that it is the deep kind that eventually turns to sweetness.

Turning Twenty-Six...

(Otherwise entitled "Cars, Trucks, and Moving Vans")

My husband loves trucks. You may have gathered that from the way he speaks to me in his sleep. He is currently a driver manager for a trucking company. He oversees 92 semi-trucks and tracks them all across the country to make sure that things like onions, ketchup, and potatoes get to the store on time. He loves it. He doesn't drive the trucks ... just tracks them via GPS and computer ... but he wishes he did. One of his greatest dreams is for us to retire and go driving off into the sunset on an 18-wheeler together.

He's in logistics, the profession that moves the things all the other professions join together to make from point A and to point B. Right now that means he wears khakis and polo shirts to work and talks to semi-truck drivers all day. At some point it might mean wearing a suit and tie and coordinating million dollar shipments from one country in Asia to another country in Europe. At another it might mean putting on jeans and a t-shirt with a walkie-talkie strapped to his belt as he works in a refugee camp in Africa coordinating the shipment of goods and people with the Red Cross. As much as he loves his trucking dream, the Red Cross dream is probably is his favorite. And it's the conversation we had while dating about what we could do together in Africa/Europe/wherever with the Red Cross that started me down the path of falling in love with him.

When Dave was little, or so I'm told, his dad wanted to make a tape of him and his sister Genny talking to send back to his grandparents. They were living in New York City at the time -- a place full of magic for little kids. The conversation went something like this:

Dad: What's your favorite thing to do?

Genny: Color, play pretend, read stories. (I'm totally ad libbing for Genny here.)

Dave: I like cars, trucks, and moving vans.

Dad: What's your favorite part of New York?

Genny: The park.

Dave: I like to watch the cars, trucks, and moving vans.

Dad: How old are you?

Genny: Four.

Dave: I like cars, trucks, and moving vans.

Things haven't changed much in the last 26 years except that he's added trains to the list. Riding the train across the Wasatch Front to visit me was one of Dave's favorite parts of our courtship. When we pass an interesting truck on the freeway, Dave slows down to get a better look. He likes getting stuck behind railway crossings.

It was his birthday on Saturday. I couldn't get him a car, a train, a truck, or a moving van. But I can still hold out for Africa.

Happy Birthday, Dave!

Ummm...

So I posted my "U" entry yesterday and now it's gone ... anyone else experience weird issues with Blogger and any suggestions on how to get it back?

Upstanding citizen ...

One of the attorneys I work for has a cardboard cutout of a former division director in their office. It was made as a gag gift at a going away party and has remained in the office as a longstanding joke.

It looks like this ... only with another person's head pasted over the vice president's.

The office is getting painted today, so he needed a new home.Now he is standing just a few inches away from my elbow looking over my shoulder as I research.

As much as I like Vice President Biden's body (which sounds way kinkier than I mean it), I have to say it's kind of freaking me out a little to feel like I'm being watched.

Very Vegan ...

Have you ever tried to be vegan in the South? Or convince other people who have offered to cook for you to prepare a vegan menu? Don't. People tend to not invite you over as much.

Weddings and Wendover ...

This is a picture of the royal kiss ...

This is a picture of the "Edwards" kiss ...

[can't get picture to upload right now ... we'll insert later ... sorry!]

Personally, I think we did a better job of sealing the deal. Though there were not quite as many people waiting to greet us outside of the temple doors than there were greeting William and Kate from the palace balcony.

Two weekends ago we went to Wendover. It was 6 p.m. on a Friday and I was just finishing up my last paper of the semester. Dave and I were frantic to get out. We didn't care where ... we just needed a vacation. Since we had to be back by 2 p.m. the next day we couldn't go far. We weighed our options and our budget. We had enough to stay in a really nice room and go out to eat in Wendover, or stay in a really small hotel room in Park City and go through the drive through. So we headed west on 1-80.

It was one of the most beautiful drives I've ever taken. It was sunset and the mountains were reflecting off of the salt flats which had been covered with rain. That drive is normally desolate and brown. This time it was full of color and a little bit of magic.

Then we got to our hotel room. I'm pretty sure it was designed by a stripper. It had an in-room jacuzzi. There were mirrors and neon lights EVERYWHERE!! I couldn't stop laughing. We enjoyed some casino food. Dessert was amazing (passion fruit mousse and triple chocolate lava cake), the pasta not so much. The next morning we got up early for the ATV ride we had scheduled. I was excited to do something outside. I hadn't seen the sun for months and my body hadn't done anything active since finals prep had begun. Our tour guide pulled up in his van and we crawled in.

The first stop was a trailer home. "This," we were told, "was where the railroad station used to be before it burned down." The next stop was the frontage road. "There," our guide said, pointing to a dump truck "is the machinery that works the pot ash mine." We figured he was being friendly, giving us the "scenic" tour of Wendover on our way to the ATVs, but we were getting impatient. We had spent the rest of our money on the excursion and the hour was starting to dwindle away as he went on about the pot ash mining process. Finally, we were on our way again. He pulled onto the freeway for about two minutes, exited off again and drove to the end of the pavement where a parks marker signaled the beginning of the salt flat racing track. That's when I knew we were in trouble. "Dave," I whispered. "I think this is the tour." His eyes got wide.

We got out and our guide read the sign to us. He offered to take a picture. We got back in and he started back to our hotel. A brochure in the van confirmed our suspicions. Dave told him here had been a mix-up ... somehow we'd been signed up for the "interpretive" Salt Flats tour instead of the ATV rides. The man apologized, but told us it was too late and there was nothing he could do. He offered to take us on the rest of the tour. We glumly agreed.

Have you ever been to Wendover?! There is nothing there! There's one street with maybe four hotels, a couple cheap fast food places and a golf course. So the rest of the "tour" was driving past our hotel, our guide pointing out "Pizza Hut on the right and the new town hall on the left" and then turning around at the golf course and dropping us off. Then he charged us $50. Turns out if we'd gone on the ATV ride it would have been $130. We were livid. Interpretive tour my foot. He just charged us $50 to take us to free BLM land and read off a sign. It was clearly not the employees fault though so we paid and left. Dave immediately called the management for a refund. The call did not go well and I'm still trying to figure out the best way to submit a complaint to the Nevada Better Business Bureau. So if you go to Wendover, skip the "interpretive tour." But be sure the get the passionfruit mousse and the room with the mirrors.

Who knew trashy could be so fun?

XOXOX

Happy Mother's Day!

Yay You! (and me)

When I graduated from high school, a friend bought me this book:

It's one of my favorites. The BEST Sandra Boynton book is "Hester in the Wild." Fairy Godmother rabbits who turn purple with rage, troublesome ground hogs, and a canoe ... adult-intelligent comedy disguised as a children's book doesn't get any better.

But I digress ...

I haven't graduated so I really shouldn't have too much reason to feel celebratory. But I do. In fact, I think I'm more relieved and happy this year is over than any other. Whenever I think of what's been accomplished there's a small chorus singing "yay!" in my head.

So here are a few things that also have me "yay"ing:

Spring ... for real this time. It snowed last Saturday but I'm convinced it's going to be warm from now on.

Research. One of my favorite professors just invited me to assist her with research that will combine my experience and love of journalism and access to public records and the law. (Double yay!)

A paycheck. For once I will be getting paid to do legal work rather than paying to be allowed to work. Who came up with the whole you-pay-us-to-let-you-do-our-work internship business model? Apparently other credit-hungry graduate students like me. Somehow it doesn't feel so wrong to pay someone to let you do work when you're getting credit.

Hospitals. I LOVED the doctor who did my most recent scope and the outpatient staff in his office. And now I have really cool pictures of my esophagus on my fridge.

Speaking of which ... Not having constant heartburn and finding an affordable solution for my acid reflux has been pretty exciting. My doctor handed me two prescriptions and told me to take whichever was cheaper ... $360 a month or $9 a month? It was a hard decision.

Bridesmaid dresses that fit like a glove and make you feel beautiful. The non-cupcake topper look is the way to go, gals. Classy choice, Kristen, classy choice. If the bridesmaid dresses are this stunning, I can't wait to see the bride!! I've never been part of another person's wedding party before so I was kind of nervous when the dress arrived. All fears have been put to rest.

What has you "yay"ing?

On the Zoo...

When I was about 10 or 11 my mom bought a season pass to the zoo. It was mostly for my little brother Alex who was OBSESSED with animals. Each time he would get to pick a new animal from the gift shop to bring home with him and add to his collection. They were these small, rubber, pretty life-like-in-miniature figures. After awhile, he'd gotten all the "normal" animals like giraffes and lions so he started buying rare versions of anteaters and other less popular creatures. I'm pretty sure he still has the collection.

So I've been to the Zoo a LOT. But I have two memories that will always be my favorite:

Memory #1 -- Sam was a runner. My mother's biggest nightmare, and it was a recurring one, was that he would get lost in a crowd, any crowd, and we wouldn't be able to find him. Attempting a trip to Mount Rushmore was a feat of courage for my mother who was sure we would find dangling from a president's nose. He was also fixated on hippos. He had hippo toys, loved to sing songs about hippos, and any movie that he saw that included a hippo became his new instant favorite -- which meant we would watch it over, and over, and over again.

I also had the most amazing boyfriend at the time. I was 20, he was 24. He was trying to get in with my family's good graces, especially my parents who were not thrilled with the situation. They thought I was "too young to get married" and were convinced that any boyfriend over 21 was a marriage proposal waiting to happen. So it was nothing personal -- I don't think a set of parents could construct a more clean-cut, well-behaved boyfriend than the one I had -- but that didn't make their coldness any easier. In an attempt to win them over, we offered to take Sam to the zoo to see the hippo. They consented, and off we went.

All afternoon Sam begged to see the hippo. After stopping to look briefly at a few of the other exhibits on the way, we departed from our well-mapped out route and headed straight to the middle of the park for the hippo exhibit. We were greeted by locked doors and a sign that said, "Pardon our dust during renovation. Our hippo has moved to a new home in Albuquerque." Sam was crushed. We tried to cheer him up by visiting the penguins, but he wasn't interested. After a few more exhibits Ryan and I had all but forgotten about the hippo. When Sam started getting ornery and stubborn, I figured it was because he was hungry. I knew it was time for a hamburger when he yelled at me and sat down defiantly in the middle of the walkway, refusing to budge. We finally got some food into him and I tried playfully teasing him a little to make him smile. I looked over to find one large, single tear rolling down his cheek.

"Sam! What's wrong?!"

"Hippo," he said sadly.

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry with him. I hugged him and reassured him. We let him enjoy his hamburger and fries, I bought him some ice cream, and we talked about the hippo. After a good cry and some treats, he seemed to be doing much better. We all agreed to set off toward the giraffes.

We'd only made it a few yards from the lunch area when I realized I left my glasses on the table. I asked Ryan to stay there with Sam, and I ran back to grab them. I was gone maybe 30 seconds and was within eye shot. My phone started buzzing. "Sam's running!" the text said. I turned around and couldn't see them.

Oh no! I thought. He's lost. The nightmare has happened. But he wasn't lost -- he was just fast. Ryan trailed him closely. But since he was still fairly unfamiliar to Sam, he didn't feel comfortable wrangling him and pinning him down till I got there. And Sam was also REALLY fast. So I told him not to let him out of his sight and I ran to catch up with them. I took off in the direction I'd seen them last. "Elephants," was the next message. I changed course toward the elephant exhibit. Halfway there came "Giraffes" followed quickly by "Monkeys." Every time they'd pass a new exhibit Ryan would text me. I could barely run I was laughing so hard. By the time I caught up to them by the gorillas, Ryan was tired and I was sweating. Sam was sitting contentedly in the shade on a bench. There were about six or seven one-word texts on my phone consisting only of animal names. I saved them for months.

Memory #2 -- My first legal job was for the Utah Crime Victims Clinic in Salt Lake. Most days I worked in the office or accompanied one of the attorneys downtown to a courthouse. One day when I walked in, I was invited to the zoo.

A client needed to sign some paperwork. She was at the zoo with her kids when we called her, and one of the other interns just happened to have a season pass to the zoo with his wife. So off and Andrew and I went, in business formal, me using his wife's pass to get in, to the zoo. The client spoke Spanish, so Andrew called to find out where we should meet up. It was a gorgeous day and I honestly don't think I would rather have been doing anything else than a job I loved as we walked under leafy green trees past the butterfly house and monkey exhibit. Andrew quickly realized how limited his Spanish was when she tried to explain her location. He started attempting to translate animal names into Spanish. "Giraffo?" Sigh. "Como se dice monkey?" No luck. Finally, he struck gold. "Elephantes?" Yes! I was ecstatic. The new baby elephant had just been born and I'd get a glimpse after all.

We found the client, got the papers signed, and decided to take a closer look at the baby elephant before heading back to the car. We passed a blonde woman, pushing one kid in a stroller and two more hanging around her. She looked really familiar so I smiled and then all of a sudden Andrew burst out "Hi Professor Sun!" You have to understand that this woman is brilliant. She is one of like three people in the history of Harvard to get flawless grades all three years of Harvard Law. I'd only seen her in business dress so I almost didn't recognize her in jeans and a T-shirt. She looked at us questioningly. We did look funny -- all dressed up in business formal with legal documents in our hands. Plus, we were sure she was thinking "why on earth are two married BYU students hanging out at the zoo with each other without their spouses at lunch time on a work day?" Andrew quickly explained our situation and she laughed at our story. The baby elephant was perfect and we headed back to the office. I'm pretty sure it's the last time I'll ever get paid for going to the zoo.

Back to front ...

So I've seen several blogs doing a post a day with the alphabet lately. I love the idea so I'm going to attempt it. Though I plan to start with Z and work backward.

Finals are over, the law review write-on is done, and I'm back at work. Life is good.

Lame ...

I am a lame blogger. I promise to stop being lame once the law review stops being lame. In the meantime, I am a slave to the Bluebook citation manual.

Finals prep fun ...

Word for the day: expunction

Treat for the day: chocolate chip cookies

Outfit for the day: whatever I was wearing yesterday

Shower for the day: maybe

April ...

What's awesome about April...

General Conference

Beautiful flowers coming up in our yard ... that we totally didn't have to plant because they are annuals. Yay for mooching off the hard work and foresight of the people we are house sitting for.

Finals. The last day of finals and that "Whew! We did it!" feeling is always among the best in the semester.

Good weather

Blue skies

Easter!

What's not so awesome about April...

Finals + good weather. 1) How much good does the sunshine do when you're stuck in the law library? 2) Three consecutive all-nighters to get two major projects turned in combined with a trip to my favorite food cart in SLC (the warm weather seduced me into walking a couple blocks for cheap food) led to some massive food poisoning and my body basically shutting down on me once everything got turned in.

What big plans we have for April:

Dave's brother is leaving on his mission.

Law Review write-on

Curry!

Night-hikes

And on a completely unrelated note ... guess who's going to the Selena Gomez concert in September? My little brother (junior high) is adorably in love with the Disney pop star. Considering I've only been to one or two concerts since I went to the Backstreet Boys when I was his age, maybe I should get me to some more "grown up" music this summer as well.

Do you ...

judge people when they don't order a drink and then fill up the water cups with Gatorade?

I do.

Mhana, you ugly!!!

So I'm working on a paper for my feminism and law class when I realize I'm starving. I leave the law school and venture into BYU undergraduate land to get some use out of their food court. Now I'm sitting down to write more of said paper in the student center so I can eat without the law school folk yelling at me for bringing food into the study rooms. I swear undergrads get younger every year.

Anyway, guess what conversation the two Zoobies are having next to me?

The feminist implications of Johnny Lingo.

....

It is taking every ounce of willpower I possess to keep working and not join in.

(Watch THIS awesomely funny and dead-on John Stewart video -- you have to scroll down to the bottom of the page after hitting the link -- if you want the story that prompted the paper I'm writing about the intersection of tort law, feminist schools of thought, and freedom of contract principles apparent in the former rape employment clauses of some military contractors.)

Catch-up...

I'm playing catch-up this month. On studying. On grades. At work.

Where did I get so behind?

Well, first I was in Minneapolis. That place is cold. The Mall of America was a total disappointment but there was some neat architecture on the UofMinn campus. The moot court competition there rocked and we represented our school well. Can we just talk about how much FUN appellate work is? Why on earth are there so many TV shows dedicated to boring trial work when the real action comes in during the appeal?

Next, I was swamped with coordinating the PILF Auction. We're still wrapping up the loose ends. Did/will the auction benefit me in any way? No. Will my grades probably be worse for it? Yes. But did my committee and volunteers totally more than DOUBLE last year's proceeds and will this mean that more students can go out and use their legal educations to serve people in need? Absolutely.

Then my doctor told me I needed outpatient procedures. I cried. I don't have time to be knocked out for a day or two. And then he took away my medicine so I was up for two nights in pain. (It's just heartburn people ... did this really need to be a crisis that HAD to be dealt with during finals prep?The short answer is no. He was just in too much of a hurry to really talk to me the first time around.) I went back after a very upsetting and completely unproductive 48 hours only to have him change his mind in exchange for a blood draw instead and a promise to get the procedure done sometime this summer. And I now have a one-day stay at the hospital to look forward to after finals instead of watching movies or sleeping before the Law Review write-on starts. Yay.

My uncle passed away. The funeral was wonderful and we all miss him. It's good to have family close by.

And ... now we're caught up. I think I'll get back to catching up on school instead of blogging. Even though you all are way more fun.

Note to self...

Never, ever read the comments after reading an article you like.

More sleeptalking ...

3 a.m.

I've been lying awake for the last 30 minutes trying to decide if it's worth getting out of bed to turn up the heat. Then I remember that Dave is his own heat source.

Dave stirs in bed.

Yes, I think. He's awake, too.

"I'm so cold!" I say cuddling up to him.

He puts his arm around me, kissing me on the forehead.

"Yes," he says. "And your service as the Green Lantern is appreciated."

....

....

Sigh. I can't decide if Dave thinking I'm a superhero in his sleep is an improvement over him thinking I'm a truck driver.