Contestant No. Eleven

I don't think there is anyone better through whom to revitalize the Epitome of Female Beauty Contest. I know that after we go through sixth grade Social Studies class that we all more or less understand that it goes without saying that Rosa Parks did way more than remain in her seat. She gave a face to a nascent movement whose members were only beginning to realize how much unity and common ground would be necessary for any semblance of success. She became the standard waved at all opposition. A reminder of what was at the heart of the fight for equality: the simple ability to live everyday without the humiliation of Jim Crow laws. If a seamstress could stick it to the man, then by gum so could black people everywhere. Few know that Rosa Parks was, in fact, already a part of this movement. She was the grassroots type, sending out fliers and holding workshops to educate young people about what the fuss was all about. She was also a replacement: a 15 year old girl had done a very similar thing but had gotten pregnant and was not seen as fit to represent the movement. But Rosa Parks--worker, visionary, pillar of the Montgomery community--was perfect. And she went right along with it. It all began with remaining in her seat, but she was no less formidable when lending her quiet but powerful legacy to all aspects of the civil rights movement. It might have happened without her. But that in no way diminshes her strength of character and conviction, demonstrated several times in her life, or her claim to recognition as a truly beautiful woman. R.I.P.

Because I Am Your Friend

...and I have only your best interests at heart, I bring you "Two Chinese Students." Please click on that link and enjoy. But not during class. Or anything somber. There is music and dancing involved.

Dang

Whoa. Above under on to. People are not me. So okie. I totally met this guy and I thought that I was most total in for it. Im sick of these guys thinking they can just, ya know? The battle of the sexes is raging. At the desk tonight I knew it. Damn. I just wish that this was different, yo. How do I go on knowing that the more I go on the more I have to go on to? But at least Ive known some good times. J with those pots and pans. Tara-girl with the time with the Bug. I was totally hanging with them and there wasnot any of this Venus Mars stuff. Whew. Does anyone know the secret to talking to the other sexes? If you do, tell me!! Oh my god! Well, back to the world. The world of thoughts and feelings and feeling under, again.

Okay Okay Okay

I'll stay in law school. And I'll try to enjoy it. And, heck, maybe I'll change the world. Or at least I won't make it any worse.

Rut

Okay. Seriously. What to do? I am so tired of having this debate in my head a million times a day that I decided to go ahead and have it in writing in the hopes that maybe one of my three loyal readers will have some advice. I am in law school. It seems dumb to start law school and not finish it. Because a law degree won't exactly close doors. But, on the other hand, if I get convinced that I no longer want to be a lawyer--or even if I can't readily put my finger on the kind of lawyer I would like to be--does that mean that I should get out while I still can and avoid that last $20K in debt? Does one want to finish what one started at the expense of one's true path in life? Does one want to be practical rather than, say, happy? Am I just pissed because law school isn't fun and I'd rather be having fun? Isn't life too short not to do what one wants?

Here's the nitty gritty of the dilemma: most of me wants to own a bookstore. Only some of me wants to be a lawyer. It's more likely that I will succeed as a lawyer than as a bookstore owner. I'm already in law school and almost half-way done. I can have a bookstore some other time. But do I really want to spend however many miserable years lawyering just because it'll give me money? Isn't success more aptly measured in other ways?

People who know and love me will likely recognize this for what it is: Amy's Annual Freak Out. In the past the Freak Out has led to life-altering decisions. Do I just stick it out this time and be an adult and deal with the decisions I've made? Or is there some nugget of validity behind my schitzophrenia? Is it my subconscious trying to tell me something?

Sigh.

I'm Only Going to Say This Once

1) Anything that makes my Boyfriend this sad makes me want to put my thumbs in the eyes of any Astro, preferably the ones that got runs.

2) That being said. Here's my take: we won Game Four, pushed it to Game Five, and then only lost by one run in the bottom of the ninth. Think about it. It took 18 innings for 'em to get us. Farnsworth knows his role. He'll beat himself up. And then Next Year Things Will Be Different. I say Huzzah to Bobby for getting us No. 14 when every single odd was against him. Huzzah for Smoltz proving once again that he's the Most Badass Pitcher (including Clemens: it's all nice that he can relieve twice in his career whereas Smoltz could make a full career out of either role). Huzzah for our rookies coming in and stepping up and showing the world what Heart looks like. Huzzah indeed. And yes. Sad that we are eliminated again. But far from saying, "If we don't win a World Series we suck" I'll say instead, "We have a consistently awesome team every friggin' year. Go Braves."

3) Next year will depend on us having a good bullpen. We get our bullpen back, Braves rock the faces off the stupid American leaguers next year.

Now. If only I can get Langerhans to stop cheating on me with his fiancee...

Flux

Weekends like this are what make the weeks worthwhile, in my humble opinion. I will regale you with a tale of small town girls, living in a lonely world, who went out to roll the dice just one more time. Anna and I commandeered the Mackowiak Family Matrix and headed out of town. I-85 had traffic, Briarcliff Road had traffic, so we were late. But I managed not to "freak out" while KQ got ready and instead passed the time showing Anna around KQ's awesome Midtown bachelor pad. KQ has got that kind of condo that says to the world, "Hey world, I'm a helluvalot cooler than you and I have the exposed piping to prove it!" I love her apt. It has been home to me on many ultimate weekends. Oh pull-out couch! Oh deck-that-used-to-have-a-view-of-downtown! Oh Mona! This is the kind of condo you get when you first realize you are an adult. Likely won't be home forever, but damn, it's home for now. Jealous jealous jealous.

Anyway, after KQ was finally ready we all headed out to the White Space gallery in Inman Park. Chris's boyfriend Jonathan had his first solo art show. Photography and Sculpture (please see above photo which I hope I don't get into trouble for posting). The theme was "Flux" and the works attempted to capture the manifold changes that punctuate human existence--emotional and physical. They were powerful pieces, to say the least. Anna was disturbed by the sculptures, which resembled moist hornet nests. But I thought they were beautiful, if vaginal and spinal. At any rate, Jonathan did a fantastic job and I'm pleased that I got to see the show.

After the show (and the free white wine and the American Spirits and the convesation about Pride and Prejudice) KQ, Anna, and I took our fabulous selves to One for a little bit of chi chi dinner and chi chi conversation. I felt like I had stepped onto the set of Sex and the City or something. Steak Tartare! Shrimp Ceviche! Tuna Filet! Romanian Pinot Grigio! And did you know Hermes is pronounced Air-mez and not Air-may? Well, you may put that in your pipe and smoke it! Oh, and I still owe KQ $35.

We were faced with a dilemma after dinner: which party do we attend? The boys from the art show were all supposed to be going to Decatur for quality dance time. But what about the ultimate party at Parag's? What to do what to do? Obviously this is a job for...The Cokers! After rousing them from what may or may not have been purely innocent bedroom time, we did some Maker's Mark shots and headed to the keg party (because keg parties follow dinner at One so well). The evening was peppered with such incidents as Anna becoming the team girlfriend for the phalanx of foreign exchange students thrilled to find a pretty French girl at a Tech party, Russell making me cry (after I beat him chugging and gave him a vicious backslap), and Hensley pouring Everclear in people's beers (I suppose that one falls into the category of "seemed like a good idea at the time"). I drank too much and spent too much time defending lawyers. But I looked really really good.

The evening wound down with some quality time with the Coker Dogs and the Coker Wedding Album. There may have been some cigarette smoking and Ned may have fallen asleep on the couch...Then it was off to bed. And another Glitterati Friday Night came to a close.

Fin

Regionals. Where dreams are born and legends are made. Where the boys are separated from Chain Lightening. Where INTERNET PORN FINALLY BEAT HOLES & POLES!!!! Where INTERNET PORN FOUGHT TO WITHIN TWO POINTS OF JOHNNY ON THE SPOT AND DROVE THE GAME TO DOUBLE GAME POINT!!! Where INTERNET PORN BROKE SEED AND CAME OUT FOURTH!!! So we won't be going to Natties. In what universe does that automatically mean you are not a success? Maybe the HoDawgs circa 2001 would have thought along those lines. But a ragtag team of throwntogethers who never practice and who only kind of like each other? In my personal opinion, it's an honor to be nominated. I'm really proud of the way our little team played in Orlando this past weekend. No one expected much of us and we got to within one game of the Game to Go. Not bad. Not bad at all. So I would have liked to have played slightly better against Johnny on the Spot on Sunday. We proved that we could hang with them only to fall apart when it mattered. Evidentiary of our lack of cohesion which is a result of not practicing. A pity, in any event. But next year. Oh next year. Well, acutally the question is now to be begged: what is Amy to do next year? A whole heck of a lot of me really wants to play competitive women's again. Ozone? I'd love to try out. I have about a 70% chance of making it. I would have a role that doesn't amount to "Stand back there and handle." Maybe. And we'd be contenders. And it's lovely to be a contender. On the other hand, I did love playing with my brother and I did love the dynamic on the team (the above regarding only kind of liking one another was, of course, a joke---we had much team love). It's nice to be on a team that's good and actually has fun at the same time. Women's ultimate can get a bit, er, intense. Which is fine, but you got to go in with your eyes open. Ah, well. This is the age-old question I guess. Mixed or Women's? Bi or Homo? Etc etc. But all this can be worried about in the future. As for now, the HILIGHTS:

--Uncle Frank takes the cake for Hilight No. One. Julie and he were real troopers on Saturday and watched three games. Now they are "Part of the Team." And there was a run made for fries and coke. If he wasn't going to be on the hilight reel before that, he certainly would be after.

--Peach Margarita Race: I have experienced my first Full Body Brain Freeze and it wasn't pretty. And I got creamed by Russell. But all in all, I'm okay with my showing. And the margarita himself was mighty tasty.

--Stephen. No matter how much he doesn't want to admit it he is the Internet Porn Stud. I mean he's poetry in motion that boy. Lay-out Ds. Lay-out Grabs. Money hucks. Handling Capabilities. And not bad lookin' to boot (it's in the genes, baby). Now, if we can get his little passes up, he'll be unstoppable.

--The Shower.

--The Hampton Inn. The Hampton Inn is to the Super 8 as Rivendell is to Mordor. And for the people reading this who are not dorks, suffice it to say that you want to stay there. Period. Thanks Scott.

--Johnny on the Spot on Saturday. What a game. What a game. And it was even mildly spirited, which I'm sure surprised no one more than me. There was energy and love and some really friggin' impressive playing. By far the best game I.P. played all season.

--Not the car ride down. The car ride down is better left unremembered. Except for the moments of punchiness. I had a good laugh about the five-nosed dog.

--The Jerseys. "Click, click...18 to Enter." Priceless.

--Russell. Hooray for pleasant surprises.

--Wilbur. Hooray for the definition of "heart."

--Nash. Hooray for the best damn captain this side of Robin Williams.

--Daag. Hooray for the best under-the-breath sideline comments and pointless layouts ever.

--Don. Hooray for footblocks and flick hucks.

--Scott. Hooray for the most infectious enthusiasm ever.

--E.O. Hooray for running like you're stealing a baby. And ghastly neck sunburns.

--Corr. Hooray for Mama and optimism and having your best game when everyone else has their worst one.

--Dino. Hooray for afterburners and the singing monkey.

--Dorito. Hooray for "outside track" and being our female stud.

--Janet. Hooray for bringing the defense with you.

--O-face. Hooray for being the example by which we should all judge our capacity to "dig deep." And good lord the girl came when she had a midterm due! Let's hear it for dedication.

--and finally Acuff. Who sucks for not coming.

Okay. Done, I think. Man. I love I.P. What the hell am I going to do without you? There's always the party at the new house of Mr. and Mrs. Nashionals. Word.