My one Latin-learning lawyer tutoree wants me to always send him texts reminding him to study, and since I worked out with him that studying before he goes to work at 8am is a consistently good times, a lot of mornings I set my alarm for 7am, roll over when it goes off and send him a quick text, and then go back to sleep for another hour, until another alarm I had set for 8am rings.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Friday, August 19, 2011
Tutoree joke (2 of 2): The Latin lawyer.
Because of his crazy work schedule (he's always travelling), I had had a hard time meeting with the one lawyer who is re-learning Latin so he can study scholastic theories of law.
Because he always has me text him to remind him to study, I texted him to keep our 8am appointment, and said something like -
c u fri 8am come hell or high water! -
to which he replied -
what if it's both?
- to which I replied -
by coming you'll show your devotion to Latin -
to which he replied -
I'll be wearing my waterproof fire-resistant suit!
. . .
Because he always has me text him to remind him to study, I texted him to keep our 8am appointment, and said something like -
c u fri 8am come hell or high water! -
to which he replied -
what if it's both?
- to which I replied -
by coming you'll show your devotion to Latin -
to which he replied -
I'll be wearing my waterproof fire-resistant suit!
. . .
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Tutoree joke (1 of 2): "rubeo rubere..."
A few weeks ago my one home-schooled high school age tutoree was confused on how to translate the verb "to be quiet", since in English we translate it not with a verb per se, but rather a form of the verb "to be" + an adjective.
So, to help her get that concept, I told her the Latin word for "ruddy" was an adjective, so I could say rubrus sum ('I am ruddy') if I was talking about my complexion.
But, Latin also has another form, a verb that means "to-be-ruddy", and I could just say, rubeo, which we can't do in English, because it's something like, "I'm ruddying".
"What an odd word," she was like, "When would anyone use it?".
Then, after a pause, she was like, "That would be useful during the Revolutionary War, 'They are red!'".
So, to help her get that concept, I told her the Latin word for "ruddy" was an adjective, so I could say rubrus sum ('I am ruddy') if I was talking about my complexion.
But, Latin also has another form, a verb that means "to-be-ruddy", and I could just say, rubeo, which we can't do in English, because it's something like, "I'm ruddying".
"What an odd word," she was like, "When would anyone use it?".
Then, after a pause, she was like, "That would be useful during the Revolutionary War, 'They are red!'".
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Bar Fantasies.
I love how my project lets my friends live out their bar fantasies.
The other day I got a text from my one (light-skinned black) friend from Arkansas about whether I had been to Hooters and if not whether I was going there soon -
i want to go with you. i've always had an unhealthy fascination but never have been.
- she texted.
The other day I got a text from my one (light-skinned black) friend from Arkansas about whether I had been to Hooters and if not whether I was going there soon -
i want to go with you. i've always had an unhealthy fascination but never have been.
- she texted.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Wisconsin volunteering!!! (2 of 2): The lowpoints.
The lowpoints -
1) Why are (Indian) Indians so rude? On the ride up at 7am, it was a perfectly quiet car, and this young 20-something (Indian) couple who sounded like 7-11 owners were talking at the top of their voices, though everyone else was totally quiet and still groggy and many people were trying to sleep (I couldn’t change cars because the conductor had told me to keep my bike in that car). The girl especially kept talking and talking, so I finally had some coffee after like 45minutes – and then she quiets down for the last 30minutes of the train ride, just when I had finally woken up and couldn’t use that time to sleep anymore.
2) I had just fallen asleep on the train ride home, when I wake up to some woman talking *incredibly* loudly, and I pull up my sleep mask, and there’s three (rich) (white) couples with a cooler, on their way to an evening concert at a popular high-class park off the commuter rail. The one woman had the most plastic surgery I’ve ever seen, and was standing in the aisle with a plastic flute of Persecco, and was handing her husband a bottle of beer. They drank openly and talked loudly and the conductor didn’t bust them, though you know if they were young (black) kids doing the exact same things, the conductor totally would have.
One of the women, too, had grown up in the same house her parents had bought in the rich suburb, and was talking about how she had framed the old deed from the attic, because “Wouldn’t you know it, you could get a house for thirty thousand back then!”. She also talked about the differences in landscape prices.
They got off the station before this (older) (black) woman got on with a ton of bags, and we started talking about train passengers and I told her about the drunk (rich) (white) passengers and she just shook her head and laughed.
“It’s like my dad says,” I was like, “’People sure are different.’”
“That’s right!”, she said, laughing, “That’s right! People sure are different!”
3) The 2 (older) (black) women whose houses I went to were very negative on the recall, and saying they weren’t voting. I bet it’s all the Wisconsin racism, where people just aren’t keyed into African-American issues as much, but the Dems always want their votes. I don’t have anything to back that up, but that’s just the feeling I get.
. . .
The 2nd lowpoint maybe isn't a lowpoint, though, because ultimately it was fun...?
Monday, August 15, 2011
Wisconsin volunteering!!! (1 of 2): The highpoints.
So on Saturday I went up to Kenosha to volunteer for a Wisconsin Dem who the GOP was able to file recall papers on. Highpoints:
1) The best campaign office food ever – it was like a church social with everybody brining something! In the morning, there was a plate of beautifully sliced home-made loaves of banana and blueberry bread laid out on plates next to the shitty coffeemaker-made coffee, and for lunch there was a coldcuts tray and huge bowls of homemade pasta salad (one bowl of which had halved cherry tomatoes in it). After my second shift at 5pm I was about to head back towards the commuter rail station to kill some time, and the County Treasurer showed up with a crockpot of pulled pork for sandwiches, and a big bowl of cole slaw.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come volunteer tomorrow?”, she was like. “I’m making lasagna for dinner!”
2) The most interesting people were volunteering – tons of locals, tons of residents from across the state, and local and county officials. The state Dems even sent down a guy responsible for organizing north Milwaukee to help things out for the weekend.
For the morning shift, I did some turf far out, so I caught a ride with a (white) (late 40s) (female) volunteer. A big storm front began to move through right as I was finishing up my shift, and I met her at a nearby diner in a minimall – where she bought me my bowl of (homemade stuffed pepper) soup as a thank-you for volunteering.
As I expected, some local volunteers seemed hesitant when I admitted I wasn’t from the state, but I had come up with a line for that: “If David Koch can live in California and come up here and interfere with your politics, I figure what’s wrong with [my first and last names] coming up here to volunteer a little bit for the other side?”
“I never thought of that that way before,” one older (white) woman was like. “You’re right!”
And, as I told the volunteer I shared the morning shift with, “Heck, I’m just trying to help reclaim one little corner of the Midwest for the Powers of Good.”
She ate that shit up.
3) You know how local polling places are tucked away at different places, usually township halls and churches? For my first shift, the polling place was at the Moose Lodge.
So, since I was expected to remind all the voters of the poll times and locations, even if they were impatient, I’d have conversations like this:
“So do you know the poll times on Tuesday?”, I’d be like.
“Yes,” they’d say impatiently in their Wisconsin accents, “Seven a.m. to eight p.m.”
“And your poll location?”
“Yes,” they’d say impatiently, gesturing with a hitchhiker thumb towards the Moose Lodge, “The Moose Lodge...”
“Sweet!”, I’d be like, and at that I’d thank them for their time and support, and we’d wish each other a good weekend.
4) At one point the State Senator came in – and he was one of the Wisconsin 14 who fled the state to temporarily halt the anti-union legislation. I was in the same room with him! I wanted to go up and shake his hand, but I didn’t.
5) Everyone had the low-down on the Republicans. People were saying there were a ton of fake signatures on the recall petitions (dead people, page after page of signatures in the same handwriting; the GOP had to use paid signature gatherers, but the Dems didn’t), and that in the Darling election there was a ton of robocalls and fliers giving out wrong poll information. A lot of people were claiming that that one clerk from Waukesha county waited till the last minute with votes again, and she is definitely doing something fraudulent.
“The government accountability is supposedly looking into this,” one (middle-aged) (white) guy was like, “But have we heard anything? No.”
A campaign volunteer from the town also was telling me how the GOP guy running in the local election had only lived in Wisconsin 4 years, and for 2 of those he worked in London, and for the other 2 he’s gone daily to Chicago to work.
“He lives just across the border,” she was like, “As close to Illinois as you can get. We say, Bob [the current Dem state senator] was in Illinois for 2 weeks, but Steitz [the GOP opponent] goes there every day!”
She also said he was a corporate lawyer, and so he’s devoted to helping the rich get richer any way they can.
She also said he hadn’t paid his taxes one year, and that he has a rental property that had been rented out to a non-registered sex offender.
6) After the 2nd shift, I wanted to go the Kenosha tiki bar to get a Polynesian drink and a buzz on for the train home.
“You know that that was the first bar in Kenosha to go non-smoking, even before the statewide ban?”, the County Treasurer said. “They were afraid someone would set all the hanging grass stuff on fire.”
Unfortunately, it didn’t open till later, so I biked downtown (I had taken my bike up by commuter rail) and got an ice cream cone instead.
After that, at one four-way stop intersection I coasted in to a halt just after this big white Caddie with two old (white) women did, but the driver (who had her window rolled down), just stuck her hand out and waved me to go through.
“Please, dearie!”, she was like. “I’m just thinking.”
1) The best campaign office food ever – it was like a church social with everybody brining something! In the morning, there was a plate of beautifully sliced home-made loaves of banana and blueberry bread laid out on plates next to the shitty coffeemaker-made coffee, and for lunch there was a coldcuts tray and huge bowls of homemade pasta salad (one bowl of which had halved cherry tomatoes in it). After my second shift at 5pm I was about to head back towards the commuter rail station to kill some time, and the County Treasurer showed up with a crockpot of pulled pork for sandwiches, and a big bowl of cole slaw.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come volunteer tomorrow?”, she was like. “I’m making lasagna for dinner!”
2) The most interesting people were volunteering – tons of locals, tons of residents from across the state, and local and county officials. The state Dems even sent down a guy responsible for organizing north Milwaukee to help things out for the weekend.
For the morning shift, I did some turf far out, so I caught a ride with a (white) (late 40s) (female) volunteer. A big storm front began to move through right as I was finishing up my shift, and I met her at a nearby diner in a minimall – where she bought me my bowl of (homemade stuffed pepper) soup as a thank-you for volunteering.
As I expected, some local volunteers seemed hesitant when I admitted I wasn’t from the state, but I had come up with a line for that: “If David Koch can live in California and come up here and interfere with your politics, I figure what’s wrong with [my first and last names] coming up here to volunteer a little bit for the other side?”
“I never thought of that that way before,” one older (white) woman was like. “You’re right!”
And, as I told the volunteer I shared the morning shift with, “Heck, I’m just trying to help reclaim one little corner of the Midwest for the Powers of Good.”
She ate that shit up.
3) You know how local polling places are tucked away at different places, usually township halls and churches? For my first shift, the polling place was at the Moose Lodge.
So, since I was expected to remind all the voters of the poll times and locations, even if they were impatient, I’d have conversations like this:
“So do you know the poll times on Tuesday?”, I’d be like.
“Yes,” they’d say impatiently in their Wisconsin accents, “Seven a.m. to eight p.m.”
“And your poll location?”
“Yes,” they’d say impatiently, gesturing with a hitchhiker thumb towards the Moose Lodge, “The Moose Lodge...”
“Sweet!”, I’d be like, and at that I’d thank them for their time and support, and we’d wish each other a good weekend.
4) At one point the State Senator came in – and he was one of the Wisconsin 14 who fled the state to temporarily halt the anti-union legislation. I was in the same room with him! I wanted to go up and shake his hand, but I didn’t.
5) Everyone had the low-down on the Republicans. People were saying there were a ton of fake signatures on the recall petitions (dead people, page after page of signatures in the same handwriting; the GOP had to use paid signature gatherers, but the Dems didn’t), and that in the Darling election there was a ton of robocalls and fliers giving out wrong poll information. A lot of people were claiming that that one clerk from Waukesha county waited till the last minute with votes again, and she is definitely doing something fraudulent.
“The government accountability is supposedly looking into this,” one (middle-aged) (white) guy was like, “But have we heard anything? No.”
A campaign volunteer from the town also was telling me how the GOP guy running in the local election had only lived in Wisconsin 4 years, and for 2 of those he worked in London, and for the other 2 he’s gone daily to Chicago to work.
“He lives just across the border,” she was like, “As close to Illinois as you can get. We say, Bob [the current Dem state senator] was in Illinois for 2 weeks, but Steitz [the GOP opponent] goes there every day!”
She also said he was a corporate lawyer, and so he’s devoted to helping the rich get richer any way they can.
She also said he hadn’t paid his taxes one year, and that he has a rental property that had been rented out to a non-registered sex offender.
6) After the 2nd shift, I wanted to go the Kenosha tiki bar to get a Polynesian drink and a buzz on for the train home.
“You know that that was the first bar in Kenosha to go non-smoking, even before the statewide ban?”, the County Treasurer said. “They were afraid someone would set all the hanging grass stuff on fire.”
Unfortunately, it didn’t open till later, so I biked downtown (I had taken my bike up by commuter rail) and got an ice cream cone instead.
After that, at one four-way stop intersection I coasted in to a halt just after this big white Caddie with two old (white) women did, but the driver (who had her window rolled down), just stuck her hand out and waved me to go through.
“Please, dearie!”, she was like. “I’m just thinking.”
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Another crazy driver.
The other week I was biking out to a festival and when cars were slowing for a stop light, this big (white) SUV veered into the bike lane.
I had to slow down quite a bit, so as I went around it, I saw the window was open and this young early- to mid-20s (white) girl inside with big sunglasses talking on a cell phone, so I was like, "Hey, watch out there's a bike lane!", only she didn't hear me talking, she was so engrossed in her cell phone, so I tapped the window sill of her car to get her attention and tell her the same thing, and she just held her cell phone down and looked at me without taking off her sunglasses.
I was ahead of her going past the light, but then she sped by like mad 5 feet to my left, blaring her horn continuously.
I asked friends what to do in these situations, and my one lawyer friend from Missouri said she's tried calling the cops since sometimes when drivers intimidate bikers their actions fit all the definitions of assault, but the cops don't take her seriously. A different grad student friend of mine said to get the license number, and if you call the police dept (but not on 911; use the 311 line instead) the local police usually tracks down the driver to call them up and tell them to be careful, since if they ever hurt and a biker they're in deep sh-t.
I had to slow down quite a bit, so as I went around it, I saw the window was open and this young early- to mid-20s (white) girl inside with big sunglasses talking on a cell phone, so I was like, "Hey, watch out there's a bike lane!", only she didn't hear me talking, she was so engrossed in her cell phone, so I tapped the window sill of her car to get her attention and tell her the same thing, and she just held her cell phone down and looked at me without taking off her sunglasses.
I was ahead of her going past the light, but then she sped by like mad 5 feet to my left, blaring her horn continuously.
I asked friends what to do in these situations, and my one lawyer friend from Missouri said she's tried calling the cops since sometimes when drivers intimidate bikers their actions fit all the definitions of assault, but the cops don't take her seriously. A different grad student friend of mine said to get the license number, and if you call the police dept (but not on 911; use the 311 line instead) the local police usually tracks down the driver to call them up and tell them to be careful, since if they ever hurt and a biker they're in deep sh-t.
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