Elton G. White, My Hero

i absolutely love to read the local paper from my hometown. the central virginian serves louisa and fluvanna counties. it comes out once a week, on thursdays, and contains about 20 pages of vital information -- notices for the weekend's fundraising pancake breakfasts, scores from high school sports, instructions on how to maximize your fall fertilizing efforts and the day-to-day social calendar of mrs. kermit martin. at home, i read this paper front to back the minute it arrives, including the legal notices (which have some relevance now that i've graduated law school), the church bulletins, and the public interest stories on local llama farms. lucky me, my mom got me a subscription ! that i receive in tempe about 10 days late, but attack with the same fervor.

my absolute favorite part of the paper: the editorials. i am always either appalled or amazed at the opinions in my simple, country town... an interesting mixture of ignorance and insight that i never quite expect. right now, the county is knee deep in rabid debates over a disbarred (for lack of a better term) pee-wee football coach, funding issues for a potential new elementary school, and the best -- local elections.

if politics is dirty, local politics is mud wrestling to the death in your own backyard. the first election i ever voted in, the sheriff won by 8 votes. an early, cozy lesson in every-vote-counts. i'll admit to some apathy in presidential elections (evident by my vote for ralph nader -- an incredible person with unbelievably long fingers -- in 2004 and virtually unknown and now deceased libertarian candidate harry browne in 2000). but i cannot afford to make an uninformed decision in local politics ... this is someone i will have to hear about at least once a week every week, on fridays when the CV is delivered. or more specifically for me, 10 days after that friday.

so the point is that i am impressed with the level of attention being paid to the local elections in my hometown, and appreciate the importance of weighing a commonwealth attorney interested in social rehabilitation versus one interested in cracking down on crime in a small community. but in the true spirit of kelley, i find humor in this advocacy. elton g. white of louisa writes:

[the encumbent commonwealth attorney] has turned his office into a super wal-mart with good deals and rollback sentencing. . . . i have always heard that a dog was man's best friend. i cannot attest to the validity of that cliche, but i can say, without a doubt, that [the encumbent] is a criminal's best friend.

now those is some fightin' words... and so eloquently put in the most redneck of terms: discount shopping and hunting dogs.

The Price of Youth

oh how i long for the days of last week... when i was blissfully unemployed (even with the threat of destitution looming over my head when my loans come due next month) and the most pressing decision i had to make was what the heck i need to add to my flourescent yellow striped caftan to make a kick-ass halloween costume. FYI i'm still in the process of acquiring a crown, pink eyelashes, and a big lollipop scepter to complete my transformation into princess lolly from candyland.

i have since been offered a job that sounds fulfilling -- representing kids in dependency and delinquency matters -- with people whose company i truly enjoy, but requires relocation to the retirement capital of AZ. i have until thursday to balance the obvious pros of employment and saving the world (even if in the smallest of increments) against living somewhere that, while beautiful, my (fleeting) youth singlehandedly lowers the average age a couple points and where no doubt i will have to petition for a seperate check-writing lane at the grocery store.

my parents love to say, "i'll tell you what i think and then you can go ahead and do what you want anyway." while i certainly plan to go ahead and do what i want anyway, i only decide what i want after painstaking analysis and fact-gathering. (oftentimes this involves making an excel spreadsheet.) i am the worst at making decisions -- especially important ones that involve leaving behind my fabulous roommate, a mild winter, and the birthplace of kiltlifter. but even seemingly-mundane day-to-day life choices -- like which big tacky necklace best accentuates this outfit, whether i really NEED to take a shower today and have to deal with being all wet once i get out, or whether a pink bike with streamers is better than a red one with flames -- can sometimes be overwhelming.

if it ever appears that i am making a decision at the spur of the moment, it is only because my thought process is so advanced that i can run through and weigh an exhaustive list of pros and cons at near the speed of light. oftentimes a quick decision involves the very big consideration of who cares either way. even though i want to make a perfectly informed decision the first go-round, it's comforting to know that i can always go back. back to the unemployment line. back to my parents' houses. back to planning my day around when jeopardy airs on network TV. and all with the benefit of a little experience and, hopefully, only a few more gray hairs.

in other news, i got the best haircut of my life at earl's school of beauty. i'm as shocked as anybody. and heidi (my unnaturally cheerful 18-year-old stylist-and-BFF-in-training) informed me that i could come by anytime i had a hot date (sure to happen as soon as someone sees this new haircut) and she'd blow it out for me, since i don't have enough arms/hands/coordination to do it myself. now i have the option to look like a real adult instead of some wild hippie. woot.

Ode To Karrot

i have always felt really terrible for only children. although i can't say (with a straight face anyway) that i have always gotten along with my sisters, they have always been around. and usually, conveniently, when i need them. to entertain me. to offer advice. to get me a glass of water when i am, conveniently, not the closest one to the fridge. and to remind me that yes, i am as badass in real life as i am in my head.

my baby sister turned 21 today !! usually an event like this makes me feel old, but in this case, i have managed to remove myself from the center of the universe for a brief moment, and am excited for her to grow up. in honor of these 2 momentous occurrences, i will memorialize karrie on the internet with a list of some of the many reasons she is awesome.

#1. karrie is orange and she doesn't even care. i'm not even kidding. every time i saw her this summer, i suspected she had overdosed on the self-tanner. she had a lot of color and i knew it wasn't because she spent so much time outside OR from the fluorescent lights at the gym. then my mom told me a story about how when kim was a baby she ate so many sweet potatoes that her hands and feet turned orange. EUREKA !!! it wasn't self-tanner, it was CARROTS. karrie eats about 5 lbs. of carrots a week. and she dips them in her all-natural sugar-less peanut butter with added flax. (this stuff, i will not touch with a 10-foot pole.) along with a vitamin, a few cantoloupes and some sweet potatoes, karrie is a walking beta carotene MACHINE. and it ain't easy being orange.

#2. karrie makes out with her big, goofy dog. gross, but ballsy. i've seen layla eat other dog's poo more often than her own dogfood.

#3. karrie has a 'tude. a big, fat if-you-can't-handle-me- you-can-kiss-my-ass- and-don't-let-the-door- hit-your-fluffy-dog-on- the-way-out attitude.

karrie on men:

i can't stand people who don't stand up for themselves. "whatever you want..." have a damn opinion. i can do whatever i want alone, thank you.

#4. karrie has conviction. it can't be easy for anyone to eat carrots and flax butter when someone else is sitting a mere 3 feet away eating a stack of pumpkin pancakes covered in whipped cream or her 3d bowl of ice cream of the day. and it must be even less easy when that 2d person is the 1st person's sister, and between every bite the 2d person makes a throw-up face :O~ at the 1st person's lunch. yet, karrie does this and manages to look reasonably convinced that she doesn't even want any ice cream. and even though she is backing off the raw food diet and riding the ice cream bandwagon again, the point is that when karrie convinces herself of something, no amount of heckling (even from my dad) can change her mind.

#5. karrie uses the nose bulb !! and helps babies and old people and trauma victims. and me when a bout of hypochondria strikes. she's going to be a great nurse that i can and will brag to all of my friends about.

... karrie can drive a stick shift. she understands football. she can burp louder than any boy i've ever met. she gets mad when i call her during jeopardy. and yet she still understands and upholds the #1 tenet of kelley: it's important to be cute at all times.

so, happy birthday karrot !! keep kicking ass in your 21st year :D

There's Something In These Hills...

this weekend had the potential to be HUGE: my first PAC-10 football game. i hate the PAC-10; i think they're seriously overrated and if you want to see some real football, head to a state full of good, farm-raised country boys, preferably in the southeast. (it's not that the teams aren't good. they're just not that good.) but i was ready to cheer in my sun devil horns and inspired by the smack talk displayed on the way to the stadium: the only thing husky about washington is their women.

but ASU football sucks. not the team -- the experience. although restraint is not one of my stronger virtues, i exercised a monumental amount of it at the washington-ASU game this weekend. i cannot tell you how many times i bit back the words "at a clemson football game..." in only 60 minutes of regulation play. probably about 1 time per play. minus the # of plays that occurred while i was mesmerized by the fans in the student section batting around a naked, inflatable woman.

for example, at a clemson football game, the fans wait until the ref makes a terrible call before they start chanting bullshit, instead of starting the chorus the second a yellow flag appears. but then again, at a clemson football game, the fans actually pay attention to the game. of course, clemson fans are not constantly distracted by the girl sitting in front of them whose butt crack is hanging out of her dress, homemade from an old ASU t-shirt.

at a clemson football game, we don't boo the other team the second they step onto the field. i'm not saying there's no booing. but we wait until someone deserves it -- keeping a sharp eye on the field while clapping politely as our opponent is introduced. there's no sense booing a team that you're going to embarrass in a 44-20 ass-kicking before they can even make a play!

at a clemson football game, the tiger who does push-ups when we score actually does push-ups. sparky the sun devil would not pass any presidential physical fitness tests... even the girl version. and having been practicing push-ups ALL summer, i am even less impressed with his mediocre effort.

at a clemson football game, the fans never stop cheering. anyone can cheer after the quarterback rushes 30 yards for a touchdown or after the blocked field goal kick. death valley comes in 2 varieties: loud and louder. in contrast, ASU fans only make noise in the form of OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH in an attempt to intimidate the other team. actual words are used only to talk shit. noticeably absent is any form of cheering, such as "go devils." people will actually shush you for making noise at a point where ASU needs to make a big play! i'm sure the players on the field are really inspired by deadpan silence in their moment of need.

so the game went something like this: washington is on offense and they're in the huddle. an ooooh starts up. washington lines up on the field. the OOOOOOH gets louder. washington snaps the ball, at which point all obligation to make any noise stops. the play ends. then the fans snap back into action with great commentary like "fuck you rudy [the quarterback]" (completely ignoring the beating he took in the previous play rushing for the 1st down) or "your momma's a slut #31." awesome.

on a positive note: at least the student section showed some signs of life (while the entire rest of the stadium sat stone still). huy was great company, double-high-fiving our obnoxious neighbors vehemently after every score. the band was actually really good -- who knew seven nation army could be a football song. and i admit i got a good laugh at the naked inflatable woman.

i have a love-hate relationship with clemson football. it drives me crazy, but i can't live without it. i can feel it in my gut -- the big wins and the devastating losses -- an irrational passionate love affair that i will never get over. i saw no emotion in ASU football. if blood runs at all in sun devil stadium, it certainly isn't gold.


all teams can't compare their collective tailgating to a trip to the county fair where even the rival team is offered BBQ at every tent. all teams can't fit 80,000+ orange-clad fans in their stadium. all teams can't have the most exciting 25 seconds in college football. but my team does.

C-L-E-M-S-O-N T-I-G-E-RRRRRRRRRRR-S!! fight tigers, fight tigers, fight, fight, FIGHT!

there's something in these hills and from them we have drawn the power to transcend the stresses and strains that tug away to make things come unglued in these disquieting times, the power to cut through such modern concepts - and such modern facts - as generation gaps, communication gaps and ideological gaps.

{joe sherman, clemson university class of '34}

Happy October !

so, with the exception of clemson's crushing loss on saturday (but with almost 400 passing yards against VT, i'm still a fan of the slightly-weird-looking cullen harper), i had a really excellent weekend. the first half was octoberfest, where huy, darien and i sampled beers from around the world. side note: i do not recommend you visit the czech republic for the beer. and what, you may wonder, could make this day better? 1. beautiful sunshine, a constant & welcome presence here in AZ. and 2. a LOT of chocolate covered things -- strawberries, apples, cheesecakes, etc. here is a picture of me enjoying all the fine things in life.

the second half was the pumpkin patch. halloween is my favorite holiday (this month anyway ... there's so many great reasons/ways to celebrate and so much great holiday candy it's hard to narrow it down) and huy promised long ago that we would carve pumpkins and impress all our neighbors with our sure-to-be masterpieces. so we headed out to the pumpkin & chili festival at schnepf farm in queen creek, AZ to celebrate the joy of the pumpkin patch. this was a perfect opportunity to share some of my white, southern country heritage.

we didn't actually get any pumpkins, since as far as i could tell, they didn't even grow their own, just bought them at wal-mart and dumped them on a flattened patch of string beans, BUT we did: ride an antique carousel, get lost in a corn maze, eat cornbread & pumpkin pie, ride the haunted train, scoot down a big slide, and scored front-row seats to hillbilly bob's piggy races. huy volunteered to act as liason between H.B. and the pink goat in the final race, but wasn't able to inspire pinky to actually RUN when there were perfectly good rocks to eat in the middle of the track. huy also enjoyed his first hayride (his excuse: i'm from california; we don't have hay there) and suffered his first ass-kicking from me on the mini-golf course. thanks dad for starting me out early on how to hold a putter.

it wasn't all fun & games though: i almost got my hair caught on fire about 5 times by some little kids who obviously had never roasted a marshmallow or held a stick before. i dislocated my neck racing around the country road rally. and huy destroyed me in the pumpkin-launching contest. check out his awesome technique.

still, all in all, a great day -- ridiculously cheesy, but managed to entertain us for many many hours.... the joys of being easily amused. i've posted photos of the rest of our adventures for yoru enjoyment. :)

Laying Pipe

and i want to be a landscaper.

not even the creative designing part, but the actual dirty, sweaty, physical labor of turning overgrown lawns into private paradises. i want to be outside, smelling freshly cut grass, in the weather with the bees and butterflies, where i can watch each flower bloom and leaf change.

unfortunately ... 1. the competition for manual labor is stiff out here in the southwest. i can't imagine that standing on the corner with the illegals would work out in my favor. nor can i imagine some creative landscape designer is going to pick the prissy white girl with the law degree as a prized employee. 2. i have the pressure of three years' worth of graduate school debt coming due in a couple of months, not to mention the years and years worth of free services, legal & otherwise, i owe to my parents for keeping me healthy, sane, and in a moving vehicle throughout law school.

maybe it's because i'm a country girl that i appreciate an honest day's work more than the average person. the greatest reward for your time is having something to show for it at the end of the day ... like a sore back, a knee-high pile of weeds, and pretty flowers that can breathe easily again. spending hours searching for and scanning statutes and cases, although necessary to formulate and analyze legal arguments, does not leave you with that same sense of accomplishment. and all you have to show ... a handful of papers, fingers fluorescing with highlighter stains, and a stabbing pain right behind the eyes.

it has been said that writing is manual labor of the mind: a job -- like laying pipe. spoken like a writer if you ask me. still, it's time to take a hint from john gregory dunne and give my education a chance: thinking is work. it's just been so long since i stopped doing it ... that i've forgotten how difficult it can be -- how many long, flat runs i've spent perfecting it. that a lot of people are incapable of it beyond the most basic level. and what a valuable commodity it is.

and if it doesn't work out, i'll give you a deal if you let me mow your lawn.

Not In Kansas Anymore

it's good to know that although i have left the dirty south in a fresh coat of dust, i can get my own dose of the country with a short trip to mesa riverview, home to cracker barrel (where huy enjoyed his first real country food -- chicken-fried chicken, collard greens, fried okra and REAL butter!) and the bass pro shop outdoor world... complete with an array of taxidermied animals, shooting range (i'm such a good teacher ... look at huy 's skills) and full blaze-orange-on-camouflage wardrobe (perfect for hiding in racks of camouflage clothing).

in between watching random horror flicks (bordello of blood, anyone?), huy and i are currently brainstorming what we are going to do when i win the $25,000 bass pro shops shopping spree sweepstakes. should we get a speedboat or a pair of camou ATVs?

i made the mistake of sharing my blog with a boy. now he expects me to give him a cute code name and spread the details of his life across the internet. but let's be honest (surprise!): i'd hate for this, the literary masterpiece of my life, to turn into a sleazy dating column. and anyway, boys as a group just aren't that interesting -- although they do become significantly more entertaining under the pressure of interacting with me. and if i found one that was, i wouldn't tell it to the WHOLE INTERNET.

i think anne taintor got it right this time ...