Daffnee

Daphne:

The following job has just been posted to the EmplawyerNet job database.

The Palau Supreme Court is seeking applicants for Court Counsel (law clerk) positions. Palau, a small tropical island nation in Micronesia, is renowned for its unspoiled natural beauty and unique marine life. Up to three one-year Court Counsel positions are available beginning in the late summer to mid-fall 2006. Interviews will be held in early May 2006 at select locations in the United States. Interested applicants whose current employment does not end until 2007 may also apply at this time for positions that will become available in fall 2007. The deadline for submission of applications is April 15, 2006.

Court Counsel receive a salary of $40,000; free housing (furnished); free round-trip transportation for themselves, spouse and dependent children; free shipment of household goods and personal effects (up to a maximum of $1,200, or $2000 for a married couple); a $500 health insurance reimbursement; five weeks of paid vacation and three weeks of sick leave; and a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to have an unforgettable cultural and legal experience.

Interested persons should submit a letter of application (including personal contact information), resume, list of three references (including contact information), and a writing sample.Send via First Class U.S. mail (rate is the same as to any U.S. state), to the attention of:

Ms. Gloria Lonno
Executive Secretary to the Chief Justice
Palau Supreme Court
P.O. Box 248
Koror, Palau 96940
(telephone: 011-680-488-2182; fax: 011-680-488-1597)

I watched 2 hours of CSI yesterday followed by 2 episodes of Sex and the City, in which Elizabeth Taylor (Charlotte's dog) gets her period, gets gang-banged in a NYC dog run and then gets knocked up with the episode ending with Elizabeth giving birth to puppies in a bathtub.

I feel so dirty.

I actually got around to looking at the Moot Court Board ballot for next year and discovered I'm running uncontested for Marden Editor. This is good, because I despise healthy competition and have very rusty debate skills.

PARTY FRIDAY.

The kickboxing/kenpo studio is having a concert/party/drinking fundraiser this Friday. Won't you come out and make sure that I can continue to beat up other people with sticks and boxing gloves 4 nights a week?

DATE: Friday, March 31st
PLACE: 117 West 28th Street, 2nd Floor (buzz either of the #2s)
DIRECTIONS: NRW to 28th Street (walk 2 blocks west); or BDFV to 34th Street (walk 6 blocks south).
TIME: Starts 8 PM.
TIX: $30. ($15 for students, w/ ID).

I'll be bartending and wearing sequins. You seriously can't pass up on that.

Now that I'm getting over my little cold, there's something I need to get off my chest.

*** WARNING: CATHARSIS BELOW ***

The BF's cousin and friend came in from Colorado last week to do the New York thing for a few days. They're early-college aged, nice, and a little loud (but tolerable). We ended up doing a lot of the touristy things with them -- Empire State Building, musicals, etc. I think they had a good time. The thing was, something was gnawing at me the whole week that they were here, and I need to emphasize it wasn't at all their fault.

They were pretty. And I hate pretty people.

This is the point where people who hear me say this jump in and say that I can't possibly mean I hate all pretty people, don't I know that I shouldn't judge people by their looks, and so on. They're right, of course, but that's not what I mean by "pretty people". I use the term "pretty people" to define a very specific group: teenaged (or so), long-haired, and skinny girls that got/get dates in high school or early college and wear too much mascara. I, of course, was younger, smarter, Asian (went to school in a semi-rural area) chubby and completely oblivious to pop culture because I really didn't get why brown lipstick was so great. They made my life a living hell for most of my formative years, and I really haven't forgiven them yet.

I'm not trying to elicit sympathy here -- I don't think my experience was unique. That said, I'm willing to bet that every one of us who was in that position can remember what was said to us, even if it's been more than a decade: "Man, I wish I was you -- well, not really. I just want your brain, not, like, your body." "Oh my god, what is that? I only eat normal food." (referring to rice.) "It's not brown, it's toast."

Lady, your lipstick was brown.

I find it particularly aggravating that people who had no problem dating in high school feel like they have the right to jump in my boat and tell me how they too were ostracized. You weren't. Just because you weren't a jock, or a cheerleader, does not make you the kid who wakes up every morning blazingly angry that s/he has to go to school again. Or the kid who thinks about dumbing herself down because trouncing the class over and over again doesn't make her life any easier. Or the kid who decides not to take it anymore and brings a sackful of firearms to school to give those pretty people their comeuppance.

Kids will be kids, and kids can be cruel. And kids that are cruel create kids like me, who will hear about how those pretty people got of high school and then got an abortion/became a cutter/tried to commit suicide/committed suicide, who will laugh, and who will think about all the other things they deserve. You know what's depraved? I feel the same way when I hear about cheerleaders that get raped, killed, and dumped in the middle of a forest somewhere. Or when the kid that was picked on starts shooting a sawed-off shotgun in school.

I'm better now though, I guess. Life really is pretty good. I moved to a new city and that helped a lot. I'm told the best revenge is living well, and that's probably true -- there's no jail time involved.

This is why everyone should have a lock for their bike.

So I'm on a bit of a starfish kick right now, because they're just darned interesting creatures. They're one of the very few purely radial animals on the planet, don't have anything even approximating a brain -- and yet they manage to climb on top of mussels, crush 'em till they're open, pump the little shell full of digestive fluids and suck it out. How cool is THAT.

And to those who are wondering, the starfish infatuation started off thus one morning in Colorado:

  D: I'm a starfish! [splays arms and legs]
  J: I'm a seagull, and I'm going to rip your guts out.
  D: Woah. That was uncalled for.

Incidentally, the seagull is not a natural predator of the starfish.

---- PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT ----

It's come to my attention that this peeing-on-seats phenomenon is not geographically isolated. I realise now that my initial response was likely unhelpful for those (female) individuals in our community who are trying to emulate men in the bathroom. In order to be more proactive and foster some compromise between our respective positions, might I suggest the following if you feel compelled to stand, relieve yourself and be female all at the same time:

  1. Put up the seat like a guy would.
  2. You know those ubiquitous toilet liner things? You can use them even if you're not sitting on them!
  3. Toilet paper has absorbive qualities that can -- amazingly -- remove tinkle. Said toilet paper can then be either flushed or popped into a garbage can. Such options!

Of course, if you're one of those people that just darned despise Western plumbing and think that the WC is another form of colonial oppression the English are trying to off on America, I'd like to point out there are plenty of places in the world that encourage behaviour such as yours.

It's just not here.

I think I just found an idea for my A paper next year -- apparently there is a sister opinion to Korematsu v. United States that everyone seems to have forgotten about. Cool.

Notes from the Law & Justice front:

We have way too many chairs in the office. I think there's 3 for every person, even the interns, and they're all sizeable, rolly, 70s type things.

A proposal to ban State food labelling requirements just passed the House, which means that FDA food labelling regulations are no longer the floor for the States -- they're mandatory. This means that nutty states like California can't require food producers to list all carcinogenic substances in packaged food and the like, and that food industry lobbyists are very happy -- it means that they can avoid the same fate of the Detroit motor kings (i.e. have to make all their cars California-compliant and thus cleaner). Coming from a country where the governmental warnings on cigarettes take up 70% of the package, I intuit this bill (the well-titled National Uniformity for Food Act of 2006) may be a bad thing. But it may not survive the Senate. Who knows.

Federally-funded terrorism insurance is about to run out in 2008, but don't worry -- you wouldn't have qualified anyway if you weren't risking at least $50 million in damages this year. If this is you and I haven't made large efforts to be your best friend, please call me. That said, if you own an airport, this could kind of suck for you because no one besides George W. Bush seems willing to underwrite this kind of risk. (That said, there's a booming personal terrorism insurance market in Iraq.)

Non-residents get deported for drug convictions automatically. So don't do it, especially if you're from the Carribean -- apparently there's a strong social stigma attached to deportees there. Deported Haitians serve automatic jail time on their return, I'm told.

If you lock your foster kids up in cages and sexually molest them, you will lose custody.

And somebody keeps peeing on the seats in the women's bathroom. Ew.

I'm back from a lovely 4 days in Colorado with some obvious sunburn (even on my scalp). That's the last time I listen to a guy say "you don't need sunscreen, honest" when he has 2 cm of fuzz on his face and I don't. Got to meet the BF's parents, his insane -- though pretty -- cat and rediscover altitude sickness. I think we brought back something like 15 pounds of junk food from Costco, because you just don't say no to Famous Amos and Craisins when they're going for that little.

I'm at work now and supposed to be reading a book on kids whose parents are in prison. I just finished reading up and briefing on Andrea Yates, who is getting her retrial next Monday...but more interestingly (for me) is this guy who was her supposed religious inspiration. I'm not entirely sure what's compelling about Michael Woroniecki, or even how he managed to get married and have six kids, but maybe my unit will pick this up and do a piece on domestic religious fanaticism just to balance out what's going on elsewhere in this crazy world.

Fun times in Colorado.

I got a place in DC! I know where I'm living this summer! So if anyone is in Washington, swing by 17th and New Hampshire and come say hi.

Other fun happenings this weekend:

- 8 hours on Chinatown bus. Ate 2 roasted lamb thingies and 2 Chinese sweet bun things. I'm thinking I should move downtown so I can be with my people (and their food) next year.
- Bath & Body Works makes really great green soap.
- Watched Capote. Wasn't in the mood. Bleah.
- Put in 2 of boyfriend's contacts in 1 eye. Didn't notice until he complained his contacts was gone, because apparently it takes 2 of his contacts to equal the correction I need in one.
- Hung out in the depths of the National Cathedral for a bit. Was disappointed that they used concrete instead of hewing stone in the old-school way.
- Had brunch with crazy partner and his wife. Boyfriend is now also convinced that he's crazy.
- Decided to make a little chart of the most cost-effect McDonald's combinations (e.g. 2 x 4 pc. McNuggets + small fries + small coke is better than a happy meal, unless you really want the toy.)

The Canadian dollar just hit 88 cents USD! This is SO much better than 1991!

I love Alberta for the same reason I love Nebraska and Maine, though I've never been to either -- they're contrarian. Hooray for unicameral legislatures and representative electoral college votes. Hooray for the possible end of mandatory public healthcare.

Must read Globe & Mail more often. I find it much more heartwarming than that local rag.