Moving on Out

My roommate and I will be moving all the way across the street next Thursday. Even though we're not moving far, we still have to pack up the entire apartment. This will be my sixth residence in five years, and in two more years I will most likely be moving back to California.

Although I've complained about the transient lifestyle with disposable furniture, the huge benefit of moving is the very much needed purging process. I can tell you personally that being a neat freak and pack rat are not mutually exclusive terms. In fact, as an organized person just means that I can fit more in my closet because I am efficient with space. I cannot believe how much I have been able to accumulate in less than a year considering that I only came to DC with two large suitcases. (And somehow that number grew to 6 suitcases in my room without me even realizing it because they were all fitted nicely inside each other like Russian dolls).

Through packing, I have also noticed how I somehow accumulated about 8 black tank tops and 5 pairs of gray dress pants. I need to make an inventory about what clothes I have before I go shopping. Now I also feel bad for making fun of my old roommates who would not realize that we already have jars of pickles or mustard before they bought it at the grocery store. I am not exaggerating when I say that we would end up with 6+ jars of pickles for an apartment of 5 girls (and I don't even eat pickles).

I do not plan on "purging" any of my blank tanks or gray pants, but I did recycle a year's worth of Newsweek magazines and case printouts from school. Though getting rid of old things is therapeutic, I couldn't imagine doing it after living in the same house for decades. Good luck mom and dad.

Potter Pooper

Every week when I walk to church I pass by a car with a bumper sticker that reads "Republicans for Voldemort." It probably took me over two months for me to realize why the name Voldemort sounded familiar. Harry Potter character, duh.

As the fifth movie and final book are coming out, all my friends are chattering about Harry Potter. I just sit there and smile politely, since I can barely even remember the name of the main villain. I am not a Harry Potter hater, I just somehow never jumped on the bandwagon. I never got around to reading any of the books and only saw the first and third movies when I was babysitting.

Maybe I will get around to reading the books one day, my mom has them all sitting at home on the bookshelf. Or maybe one day (one day very far away) my kids will ask me about Harry Potter and I will have to explain that I never believed in the magic. Their mom is a muggle, or something like that.

Winners Don't Whine

Even though I cleaned out my locker today and had my last externship class of the summer, there's not quite a break yet. I still have to finish my comment and do all my job applications for next summer. But I am not going to complain anymore.

I have definitely had my "woe is me" moments. But no one likes whiners, especially when they put themselves in these situations. I chose to go to law school, to try out and join law review, to write my comment over the summer, to do fall recruitment. And I choose these things because I find them interesting, enjoyable, and because I will benefit from it in the future.

I guess that's one thing that I've noticed a lot about law students, we whine. Even though everyone does this, I feel like law students are especially guilty. Maybe its in our nature since we're critical of things and like to vocalize problems. Some complaints are legitimate, like the financial aid office messing up on your loans. Moreover, we all need to vent sometimes to keep ourselves sane. However, a lot of the other things are silly: Oh no, they changed the library, the registrar's office is closed, the free lunches aren't good, the buses take forever, etc. I'm guilty, especially the library thing.

But seeing as how we are a profession that is supposed to take problems and find answers, shouldn't we do that in our own lives instead of just talking about the problems?

Guilty Greek Pleasures

I admit it, I've been watching the new ABC Family show Greek. I got hooked when I was flipping through the channels one night after work and I stopped when I saw Royce Hall.

The show ended up being better than I thought it would be, raising a lot of issues in the Greek community and college in general. Not that I completely know about greek life because I wasn't part of it in undergrad (and am only in a law fraternity now), but my boyfriend, brother, and good portion of my friends were.

It was also really funny seeing the UCLA campus in every shot. Above is Moore 100, where I had orientation, a poli sci final, and endorsement hearings for USAC. To the left is Haines Hall, where I had a lot of poli sci classes and my Bruin Democrat meetings.

Although I may seem nostalgic lately and talk about moving back to California after I finish law school, I am actually not homesick and I definitely do not want to go back to college like some graduates I know. Those four years were a lot of fun, but I was completely ready to move on to the wonderful world of law school.

Senate Slumber Party

I've hit a new political low. I'm watching CSPAN2 online. My AP Government President, who had a license plate holder that said "I'd rather be watching CSPAN," would be proud.

I know its a very serious issue and I hope some good comes out of this, but this Senate all-nighter debate for the Iraq seems like a lot of fun. They even have cots set up and ordered pizza!

Maybe it seems like fun because it reminds me of college and the long long nights of working on USAC campaigns and in USAC offices. Putting up signboards on Bruinwalk in the wee hours of the morning, late night strategy sessions in random campus locations, and spending way too many hours in Kerckhoff. A lot of work, but a lot of bonding. No wonder there were so many USAC romances. I wonder there will ever be a non-adulterous romance between two senators or congress members (you know, rather than prostitutes, interns, or pages).

On a politically related note, a guy who worked for Rep. Kathrine Harris and is working this summer at Homeland Security tried talking to me today. I'm pretty sure I only get hit on by Republicans or crazy people.

Francophiles

Yesterday when my dad told me that he and my mom were thinking about buying a condo in France as an investment/vacation place, I looked down at my plate and realized I was eating a crepes that I had made for breakfast. (Hint: just water down your pancake mix with milk and voila, you have crepes you can top with strawberries). Now I know where I got my francophilia.

Growing up, my parents would also listen to French music (which I didn't care much for that, but I didn't care much for Vietnamese music either.) We had a pictures of French kitchens on the wall. I took French in high school, wanting to study abroad there. And we always heard stories of how my dad worked in a restaurant in Paris.

Alex's friend Idriss and I even bond over French food. Idriss is from Camaroon, another French colony, and somehow ended up in Minnesota like me. Before you get me wrong, I am definitely not for colonizing other countries. However, if there's anything good that came out of French colonization of Vietnam, it would be culinary influences that my parents grew up with and were passed down to my brother and I. As kids, we would eat croissants, baguettes with jambon (ham), and even pâté. Yes, I know how they make foie gras, a type of pâté. Yes I know I am a horrible person.

It is funny how I did not even realize how omnipresent Parisian influences were in my life. I am less of a francophile now because the snobbery thing kind of got old, but what I would do for a fresh banana and nutella crepe right now.

Don't Judge...

...a person by her car exterior.

Today when I was walking home from church and lunch with a friend, I saw a bright red PT Cruiser with flames painted along the sides. I saw that the car had a Washington Redskins antenna ball and seat covers. When I looked over to the driver's seat, I expected to see some big and scruffy Redskins guy.

Instead I saw an old woman. She had 10 little dog figurines lined up on the dashboard. I felt stupid for making assumptions about someone based on her car.