One Very Long Night

Initially, I had planned to submit my blog entry last night, after I arrived home from a Pi Sigma Alpha meeting. However, I ended up spending most of the evening in the hospital emergency room. Thankfully, I wasn’t experiencing a fatal or even very serious problem. In fact, the pain I had could be characterized as minor, but it was late, and the hospital was the only place I could turn to for any kind of medical attention. When the meeting ended, I felt fine; I was even rushing on to get to my car because I wanted to stop by the mall for a pair of shoes before it closed. I had undergone a difficult week and, as crazy as this may sound, spending a ridiculous amount of money on a pair of designer stilettos is my form of therapy. As soon as I pulled onto the freeway to go to the mall, I felt a sharp pain running up and down my entire right arm. I immediately held the steering wheel with my left hand and drove home.

When I reached my house, I told my sister what happened. My sister is currently studying to be a registered nurse so she is somewhat familiar with how the human body works. She suggested that I go to the hospital so they could give me an injection, referred to by the medical community as a “relaxant”. She believed that the muscles in the upper portion of my right arm had become too tense, so I needed a relaxant to loosen them up. I believed that she didn’t know what she was talking about, but the pain had become unbearable, so I took her advice, and she took me to Good Samaritan Hospital. As we waited in the emergency room, I was grateful that it was my right arm, and not my left that was in pain. I am left handed, and I would have been unable to fill out the massive packets of forms the medical assistant at the front desk had handed me.

Filling out all of the necessary paperwork led me to contemplate how much this whole thing was going to cost me. I recalled my cousin who was recently brought to the hospital after a mixture of prescription pills resulted in a negative reaction to her nervous system. She had fainted at work and someone called an ambulance to take her to the hospital. A couple of weeks later, she received a bill for $3,000.00 just for the seven minute ambulance ride. She didn’t understand why she had to pay for the ambulance, because she argued that she wasn’t the one who called for it. The medical assistant assured me that my insurance company would take care of most of the charges. After I received my injection, which the doctor administered directly to the area where I was experiencing the most pain, I left the hospital. During the drive home, my arm felt completely numb. The feeling even lasted until a couple of hours ago. Currently, the numbness has been replaced by an awkward, tingly feeling. Although I had hoped to go into more detail about my vast fear of shots and about how scary it was to actually have a needle stuck inside my arm, it’s my duty to end this blog entry, because throughout this blog session, it has become increasingly difficult to type with one hand. Perhaps I’ll further discuss my fear next week.

photo credit: http://www.statehousereport.com/images/cartoons/06.0824cartoon_large.jpg

It's My Duty To Learn A New Language

I have been so busy this past week that I have not been able to spend any time with my family, even though I live at home with them. This morning, when I woke up, my sister suggested that we go get our nails done together. I told her that it was a great idea and I would meet her at the nail salon across the street from our house, but she had her own agenda. My sister works for Washington Mutual and her branch recently ran a contest that divided the employees into teams on the basis of gender. If the female employees reached a certain goal set by the management, with regards to how many checking accounts and credit cards they opened up, the male manager would pay for them to get pedicures. If the male employees reached that goal, they were awarded a set number of hours at a driving range at the expense of the female assistant manager. The ladies won, and they all went to a nail salon after work one day. My sister liked the salon so much that she wanted to go back there, and since I didn’t know how to get there, she asked me to meet her at home so she could take me (I have no sense of direction).

So we finally arrived at Lovely Nail in downtown Saratoga. When I saw the sign, I was somewhat confused. What did they mean by Lovely Nail? Do they only make one of your nails lovely? I quickly forgot about the sign though as soon as we walked in because the salon was beautiful, and the ladies were all very nice. I was immediately aware that they valued customer service because they ran up and asked, “What you like today? Whatever you like we do for you!” We requested two manicures and politely declined their offer for the “manicure & pedicure combo”. I must admit, however, that their persistence made it difficult.

As Annie was filing my nails she attempted to begin a casual conversation with me by asking “You have boyfriend?” to which I replied, “Not yet”. Then she posed her follow-up question “Why you no have boyfriend?” to which I couldn’t come up with an answer without getting too personal. Ironically, when she was done with my nails, all of them looked great except for one. I told her that she needed to file it down more because it looked crooked, but she attributed that crookedness to the shape of my finger. At this point, I decided I would have to be pushy and I asked her again to fix it. As she was fixing my nail, she began speaking in Vietnamese with the other employees. This made me quite uncomfortable because I inevitably assumed that they were talking about me. When she saw the expression on my face she turned to me and said “She say your hair so pretty.” Yeah, right.

Every time I get my nails done and the ladies start speaking Vietnamese, I get the feeling their talking about their customers. Once again, I wished I had taken Vietnamese for my foreign language classes in high school instead of Spanish. Most people know that Spanish is useful these days, but every girl who gets her nails done is conscious of the need to understand Vietnamese. It's my duty to learn that language and then go get my nails done. This task has definitely been placed on my list of things to do before I die.

Photo Credit: click on image for hyperlink

It's My Duty To Vacation

Last night I dreamt that I was vacationing in South Beach again. For my 21st birthday last year, rather than pursuing the regular route of gathering the girls together for a weekend in Las Vegas, I chose to travel to South Beach (commonly referred to as SoBe), Florida instead. A couple of weeks prior to our departure date, I received word of spontaneous thunderstorms that occurred daily around the area of our hotel, and lasted up to six hours. I knew that July was considered “hurricane season” in that region but it’s not my fault my birthday is on July 1st. Despite my concern, I boarded a plane and landed in Miami – after the pilot flew around in circles above Miami International Airport for two hours, due to the thunderstorms.

In spite of the terrible weather we encountered upon arrival, my mood completely changed when we stepped into the upscale, all suite Savoy Hotel located right on Ocean Avenue. I couldn’t help but smile when I walked into our beautiful two-bedroom, oceanfront suite. I was later informed by the concierge that the Savoy was once a nightclub (“Woody’s”) owned by Ron Wood, the guitarist for the Rolling Stones. Immediately after we settled in, we also experienced a dramatic change in luck as the sun came out and the clouds disappeared. In fact, we didn’t see a single cloud for the rest of the entire weekend which even surprised the locals who were also expecting daily showers.

We had great weather, a gorgeous hotel and an amazing private beach, so what more can a 21 year old girl ask for? How about nightlife? Just a mere block away from our hotel were some of the most high-end and prestigious clubs in the nation, such as Mansion and Cameo. My personal favorite had to be an exclusive spot named B.E.D., which technically stands for beverage, entertainment and dining. However, as the trendy name suggests, it also happens to serve you dinner on king sized beds, full of pillows and separated by white curtains. On our last night in beautiful South Beach, we went to Niki Beach in an effort to fully experience upscale Miami. This venue was located on the beach, and was all about the scene. Beautiful people dressed in all white met with cool vibes on a dance floor, while others either sat around, or lay on the back beds outside.

My experience in SoBe, Miami was amazing, and I am already planning a trip back for my birthday next July!

Photo Credit: click on pictures for hyperlink

Getting Involved

ΠΣΑ ΠΣΑ ΠΣΑ ΠΣΑ ΠΣΑ ΠΣΑ

Last night, I attended my very first Pi Sigma Alpha club meeting. I had no idea what to expect in light of the fact that I’ve never been involved in a school club. Even in high school, I generally concentrated more on my homework and my friends than on pursuing extracurricular activities. My friends who currently attend SJSU and had heard about the club told me that it was like an honor society and that I shouldn’t join because the members would probably be “weird”. On the other hand, the professor who introduced the club to my class pointed out that it would look good on an application for law school, and could somewhat increase a student’s chances of getting in.

I have to admit that when I first submitted my application, I was motivated to sign up by my professor’s advice about law school, and I was not looking forward to attending any meetings or club events. Nevertheless, I was surprised at how much fun I had, and all the students I met who shared my interests and goals. I had expected a much more rigid atmosphere, but I was clearly wrong. It was different to see my professors outside of an academic environment, and it was great to just hang out with them. From a student’s perspective, teachers can sometimes seem intimidating, so it was more comfortable being able to discuss my goals with professors I had taken classes with over pizza and drinks.

After last night’s meeting, my perspective completely changed, and I am now very eager to enjoy the rest of this semester as a member of Pi Sigma Alpha, and truly look forward to the next meeting.

It's My Duty to Volunteer

This weekend, I begin my new job with two consecutive days of orientation and training. I have mixed emotions regarding this job, because although I am nervous, I'm also anxious to begin. About three years ago, when I began university, I chose to pursue law. Little did I know that these days, trying to get into one of the nation's best law schools is more competitive than the experience I had a couple of years earlier, as a high school graduate, applying for university. Law schools want well-rounded students who are active and involved on campus. They want students who have completed internships relevant to the field; they want recommendation letters, high GPAs, high LSAT scores and more.

In an effort to meet the internship requirement, I applied for the new JusticeCorps project. JusticeCorps is the legal branch of AmeriCorps and it basically offers law students an opportunity to serve their community while educating them about the law. Aside from the fact that this program encompasses students in a legal environment, I knew that any information I acquired while working with JusticeCorps would aid in my success in Law School.

JusticeCorps was founded on the basis of the fact that California has experienced a rise in self-represented litigants. Many of these individuals appear before the court without professional legal representation simply because, they just can't afford it. The issues they face range from divorce and family issues, to probate and other civil cases. These litigants lack knowledge of basic court orders or legal processes, which hinders their ability to resolve their legal matters. This problem also impacts the society because it results in a lack of public trust in the judicial system.

As a JusticeCorps member, my task will be to give legal advice and information to self-represented litigants, thus I will be trained in various legal areas including contracts, small claims, and family law. While all of this legal information will help prepare me for Law School, I am happier knowing that my volunteer work will ultimately benefit the community.

A Battle For Tolerance

Last week, I received a phone call from my friend David. He is currently a Marine, sent back to serve in Iraq for the third time since he enlisted about three years ago. We discussed just about everything you can think of, including the fact that he thought he saw two of the men in his troop kiss. When I asked him how he felt about that, he paused before giving me a surprising answer, "I could honestly care less. There are a bunch of gay dudes out here."

After I hung up the phone, my mind began to wander. Then I remembered an article I had read for a class last semester concerning the issue of gays in the military. The article "Ban on Gays is Senseless Attempt to Stall the Inevitable" was written by the late Senator Barry M. Goldwater. Personally, I feel that in light of the substantial and pressing issues involved in the national security and foreign policy of the United States, the issue of whether gays should be allowed to serve in the military isn't really one that deserves serious attention from Congress. Nevertheless, I recall that with the election of a Democratic-led Congress, some members called for changes in the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy to allow Gays to serve openly in the military.

Goldwater's article was interesting to me because he made various claims in support of homosexual military service, including the assertion that everyone knows gays have historically served in the military since the time of Julius Caesar, and that they will continue to do so. Although some might view this as a broad generalization, I think that the fact that we have implemented a policy of "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" emphasizes the probability that the military contains various forms of sexual orientation. The part that stuck out the most, however, was his arguement that the military has thrown away half-a-billion dollars trying to find those identified as being gay, so they can kick them out. Then, there was General Peter Pace who argued that we should uphold the ban because gay behavior is immoral and, in allowing it to be expressed openly, the military would be allowing immoral activity. While Pace may be correct in assuming that not all people are tolerant of the gay community, and that allowing gays to serve openly could cost the military a signficiant number of recruits in terms of those who don't want to live alongside homosexuals, my friend David reassured me that his comments constitute a minority view among those serving in the military.

It is my duty to express my personal view on this issue. Under such a policy where one is asked to leave the military if they find out that that individual is gay, many straight soldiers could claim that they are gay in an effort to receive an honorable discharge, allowing them to end their military service and go home early. This policy is costly in terms of both money and workforce. The military spends millions recruiting new soldiers and training them only to discharge a significant number due to their choice of sexual orientation. Considering the fact that our military is spread thinly, we shouldn't turn away qualified recruits on the ground that they are openly gay.

In a society that promotes equality, this is a step backward. As Goldwater pointed out, both blacks and women were eventually allowed to serve in the military, why should gays be any different?

photo credit: http://z.about.com/d/politicalhumor/1/0/Q/f/1/homophobe_general.jpg

Excuses, Excuses

It’s my duty to discuss the guy you have the great second date with and never hear from. Harsh as it may sound, I sometimes like to pretend he died for the couple of weeks he doesn’t call because, strangely, it feels better for my ego-driven mind to assume he no longer exists as opposed to facing the possible truth that he is no longer interested. When you meet and subsequently go out with someone, it is natural for you to feel excited about them and then they go and disappoint you by “forgetting” to call. The fact is, however, that when you really like someone, they’re always on your mind. Therefore, the “he probably forgot to call me” excuse is really code for “he probably hasn’t thought about me.”

Then there is always the guy who is too busy to call. You say that he’s been out of town a lot, or all of a sudden, right after your last date, he got 50 new clients at work (how convenient), or he had to put on a puppet show or a myriad of other barriers kept him from making a five minute phone call that he knew would put your mind at ease.

The “busy argument,” as I like to refer to it, has become far more difficult to believe when the context of this increasingly technological age is taken into account. With the introduction of cellular telephones that allow you to browse the web and access email, not to mention the popularity of text messaging, it’s difficult not to keep in contact with someone. I don’t care if you are so busy you have to send me a text message when you’re taking your bathroom break, just let me know I haven’t slipped your mind.

The way I see it, it really is a big deal if someone tells you they are going to call you, and they don’t. It becomes even more critical at the beginning stages of a relationship when you consider the fact that this is the time expectations are being set. If someone sets expectations for you, in this case the expectation being a phone call, and they don’t come through for the little things, it is fair to assume that they will ultimately do the same for big things. This behavior is detrimental to the notion of trust and I have come to realize early on if the guy I’m dating is ok with disappointing me. In conclusion I would like to advise that you stop making excuses for anyone you date and date someone who is at least as good as their word, a person who actually does what they say they are going to do.

Photo Credit: http://imagecache2.allposters.com/images/pic/CLI/MBN-330~Grandpa-s-Phone-Posters.jpg