On the Existence of God

"Trying to determine whether God exists from what you learn in college is like trying to perform brain surgery with a sharpened rock. Call me when you get to grad school."

Me, to a friend who says that college has made her start turning into an atheist

I Wonder How An Arab Jay Leno Would Read These Headlines

So in an attempt to learn Arabic better, I became a fan of CNN Arabic on Facebook. Now, I get the occasional Arabic headline pop up in my news feed. At the beginning I found myself cheating plugging phrases in to Google Translate to understand what they meant. But with the passage of time, even given my limited Arabic, I've learned crucial words and phrases necessary to understand Middle Eastern media.

The following are actual headlines I've read on CNN Arabic's newsfeed within the past three days, without the assistance of dictionaries or other translation aids. I thought I'd share:

Anwar al-Awlaki ... for jihad against "the Great American Satan"

Clashes between Palestinian youth and Israeli forces ... West Bank and ... north of Jerusalem

Israel ... on Arabs "..." in memory of Al-Nakbah ("the Catastrophe" -- what Arabs call the day Israel was establish in 1948)

Killing of Thai workers by a Qassam rocket in South Israel (while this news was sad, it excited me, because I was able to guess the word for "rocket" by context clues!)

Tiger Woods returns to playing following the scandal of ... (this one was hard at first because I couldn't figure out who the hell "Taaygur Woudz" was)

Clinton in Moscow for ... "Start 2" and the Middle East

How would you know that you were someone who is addicted to sex? (best headline ever)

... "Hello Kitty" ... Melia Obama

Names of famous people are hard, because they're spelled out phonetically, so Hillary Clinton becomes "Heelaaree Kleentoon." Also, Arabic doesn't have some of the letters that English does, so General David Petraeus becomes "El Jinraal Dayfeed Batrayoos." More hilariously, Oprah becomes "Oobra." Yes. They love Oobra in the Middle East.

The commenters are also fun. I get excited when I start understanding phrases like "Obama is in the hands of the Zionists." It makes me hope that one day I will be good enough to plug these phrases into Google Translate for the federal government. Inchallah.

Wa aydhan ana sa3eed li an 3alamtu an a7id min asdi9a2i laysa fi kyrgyzstan alaan. Al7amdullah.

Thought Vomit

"Okay. Shut up. Conversation over. Stuff as many of these into your coat pockets as you can." -- Me to my brother, in the middle of a deep philosophical conversation, re: bottles of Jack

Found out that I'm either 1/16 Apache or 1/16 Huichol Indian from Mexico. Either way, I now understand why I have patchy facial hair.

I *hate* rock music. And metal. And whatever else my brother listens to. And I do NOT want to go to shows.

I'm 94 percent sure this girl in North Africa is in love with me. She's spazzing out over Facebook because she's having problems with her ex. As a result, Im only 78 percent sure the videos she posts with the caption "to my baby!!!" are for me. I'm scared.

So I thought I had a deadly disease. And my doctors thought I had a deadly disease. And it turns out I did have a deadly disease. But my immune system fought it off. So yay!

I broke my glasses. Sad panda. Sad, blind panda.

The SECRET to Happiness: a MESSAGE from El Guero

I finished a two-week stint as a temp for a law office. Before I left I wrote this note, intending to post it on my blog, describing my feelings toward the job. I've decided to publish it below:

I AM finally BEING a productive member of society, HELD to a higher standard than I was before. AGAINST all odds and in spite of MY doubts I WILL be receiving a paycheck soon.

I know what you're thinking. "Hey, IF YOU ARE getting paid soon, how will you spend your money?" Frankly, after READING over my bank statements, I haven't really given THIS much thought. I suppose I'll do as I PLEASE. Maybe I'll even SEND myself to Barbados for summer! It's a long drive to the office. I have to pass a LIQUOR store AND LOTS OF churches. IT never ceases to amaze me how religious this city is!

Rest assured, I love this job. WHY? Well, GOD only knows WHY. I'm still in shock that I'm employed! I ask myself, DID I really grow up and DECIDE TO take on adult responsibilities when I said I would DO THIS? Sure, it's a little stressful, but I WANT to challenge myself and decided TO take a STAB at something new. Temping can be rough, but as I MYSELF always say REPEATEDLY, a bird IN THE HAND is worth two in the bush! I JUST have TO REMIND MYSELF to be positive, and THAT PART OF ME knows this IS character-building. STILL, although this is all part of the collective HUMAN experience, I can't wait to be free again!

TELL you what, the people in this place are starting to become like MY FAMILY. But I have to get back on task! Although I LOVE the granola bars that I'm eating right now, I probably shouldn't be eating THEM at my desk! Lulz.

* * *

Also, I went to Miami on the University of Miami's dime. It was awesome. Remind me to tell you about it some time.

On Smoking

Had lunch with my scientist uncle again today -- the one of algae oil repute.

Somehow we got on the topic of smoking. I have a checkered past involving smoking. It's what happens when you spend a lot of time around Arabs, Mexicans, journalists, and "arteests".

Anyways, after the typical "cigarettes are death!!!" moralistic condemnation from all sides, Uncle starts talking about how in college, his calculus teacher used to smoke cigars in class. Big, fat, probably Cuban cigars. With the illicit glee of a 12-year-old boy telling his friends about how he saw boobies for the first time, Uncle takes a quick glance around Applebee's and quietly intones that one time, he smoked. He says this with pride, like he's a true rebel.

His nerd friends and him decided one day to grab a bunch of cigars and try to smoke them. Uncle says he was afraid to inhale but finally worked up the nerve to do so. He ended up coughing, and then he puked. He says this with a glint in his eyes, reliving the cheap thrill of youthful vomiting. I smile and nod my head, silently validating his need to be seen as dangerous. Deep down inside, though, there's only one thing running through my head:

Pussy.

On Hats

People treat me differently when I wear hats.

I usually can't pull off baseball hats because my giant head is shaped like a deformed crocodile egg. (And yeah, I know what a crocodile egg looks like, I used to go to zoo camp during the summers as a kid. Bitches.)

But I discovered last year that if I tilt the hat to the side just a smidge, I can pull off a frat boy look. Douchey, but socially acceptable.

Anyways, I spent all last week in Austin checking out UT Law, and in Denton, where I bought a white hat from my alma mater, Hellhole State University. I've taken a liking to it, and especially since getting a shitty, asymmetrical buzzcut, I've been wearing it pretty often.

This weekend I wore it while I was out on a food run with Malena. She even commented on how it looked "hip hop." The cashier girls at Corner Bakery refused to make eye contact, assumedly becuase I was too thug. So as we're going down Zaragosa and we pull up to the corner, this guy taking donations for one of the local Black Baptist churches spots me. With my white baseball cap. Tilted. He points and smiles. I know I'm doomed.

"BIG BALLA!!!" he yells out as he walks towards the car. "Damn you so balla you got yo woman driving you around in the car!"

"Of course," I reply. "That's how you gotta work it."

Long story short, I gave the guy a dollar and I think Malena was mildly horrified to be referred to as my "woman." She got a kick out of "big balla" though. I think it's my new nickname.

Oh and by the way I officially left the set of Law and Order: La Raza. Next adventure -- free trip to Miami. More to come.

Channeling Alfalfa

Dear Assholes, Haters, and Miscellaneous Stains on Humanity,

I hate your stinkin' guts. You make me vomit. You're scum between my toes!

Love, El Guero

Life's Funny -- But Not Funny Ha Ha

Life sucks a little bit right now. I've been in and out of my "moods" and I've been thinking too much. For instance, yesterday I was thinking that I wished money didn't matter, so that I could go to law school in California instead of spending another three years in the middle of nowhere.

Then today, after walking into the UTEP Recital Hall for the dress rehearsal of a friend's senior concert, I realized that if money didn't matter, I wouldn't be going to law school in the first place.

When do we become too rational for our own good?

Minnesotan Interlopers

So we had a group of six law students come into the office from Minnesota for the week, meaning that for the first time in six months, there were other DUDES in the legal department my age (ish).

Don't get me wrong, I love and respect all my female coworkers as vibrant, complex human beings even though they're almost all somehow vegetarian and have way too many "feelings". But sometimes, it's nice to be surrounded by people who can appreciate things like Googling the phrase "Hmong princess" or burrito-eating contests.

(Just FYI...no one wins in a burrito-eating contest. Especially when the burritos are 18 inches long. There goes my "diet.")

The Baker told me not to get too attached, lest I end up like the kid who grows up on the farm and gets attached to the family pig, only to be disappointed when it comes time to brutally slaughter the pig to make bacon. (Unless he's some pig -- a terrific, radiant, humble pig.)

But when I left work today and said goodbye, I was surprisingly unsentimental. Probably because I'M DONE WITH VOLUNTEER WORK IN A WEEK! My foray into immigration law is coming to a close, as I have a tentative lead on a job. It's a shaky one, though. Worst case scenario, I go back to being "unemployed" for a couple of weeks, go to Waco and DFW, and then go back to volunteering so I don't look like a lazy bum even though I totally am one.

Shout-Out No. 1

Shout out to reader and fellow blogger Jesse Mendez of San Diego, California (here's his blog for those of you interested). A couple of days ago he gave everyone on his friend's list an award, and I had somehow overlooked the fact that I RECEIVED AN AWARD! YES! First award of the year. Most excellent. Anyhoo, thought I'd share. This is going up on my profile.

Happy New Year to Jesse, and to everyone!

EDIT: Jesse says this award's for everyone, so feel free to post it

2010!! WOO!!!!

So yesterday I meant to post witty commentary about the new year that no one will ever read but I've been lazy. Not a good way to start off 2010 (pronounced twenty-ten, btw) but it'll still be better than whatever this past year was...

...2009, you say? Ha ha, silly people. 2009 never happened! You know how I know? Because I don't remember anything about it! If I can't remember it, it didn't happen. Must...dance away...shame...*turns on blaring salsa music* DANCE, FOOLS!!! DANCE TO FORGET!!!

...*breathes*

Alright, so for posterity's sake, I've decided to catalogue and "publicize" (hah) my resolutions, along with how likely it will be for me to follow through on these. I've made several. So, without further ado, here's how I plan to make my life better than the past year (which didn't happen)...

RESOLUTION THE FIRST: Find a part time job
So working on the set of Law and Order: La Raza for six months now is all well and good, but the fact of the matter is that I'm still an all-too-willing collectivist slave an unpaid volunteer. The impetus behind getting a paying job faded once I realized I wouldn't be in El Chuco long enough to sign a lease on an apartment, and my parents are willing to give me money for booze and strippers and small arms for "incidentals." Still, it would be nice to have some money of my own to mess around with, especially since I'd like to go back to North Africa this summer. Ideal job: clothing store or Barnes and Noble. Something away from food.

Probability of success: moderate.

RESOLUTION THE SECOND: Losing 12 to 15 pounds by March 1
Okay, so everyone who knows me knows I've been trying to lose weight since God knows when, but the thing was, I wasn't *really* trying. Now, I have a plan involving how many calories I may consume daily. Also, fast food has been banished to Fridays, I plan on going to the gym on a daily basis by mid-January and then going twice a day on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays by February. I've got a PLAN. Currently, I weight 181. Ideally, I'd like to be down somewhere around 167 to 169.

Probability of success: again, moderate. I probably won't succeed in every part of the plan, but by March 1, I expect to have lost *some* weight. If not, ima be pissed.

RESOLUTION THE THIRD: Learn one chapter from Build Your Arabic Vocabulary a week until I learn all the words by May 1
Yep, another resolution with a deadline. I've been lazy in keeping up my Arabic, and the Syrian owner of the Sunglass Hut at Cielo Vista seemed a little wary when I came up to him with a fresh buzzcut and tried to chat him up. So I've decided to learn a chapter of vocab every week, beginning with food, until I have memoried all 1,000 words. To be fair, I already know a lot of them.

Probability of success: Well, depends. If I stick with it, it's certainly do-able. (As are all these, I guess...)


RESOLUTION THE FOURTH: Memorize all eight SparkCharts related to law before May 31
Basically, I found these charts at Barnes and Noble that outline everything I'm going to be learning my first semester of law school. Since on occasion I can be a notorious half-ass, I figure I'll get a head-start on my legal studies, lest I find myself ready to snap psychologically encapsulated by the crushing sense of quiet desperation small-town charm of Waco my first semester.

Probability of success: Eh, no biggie. I don't really *have* to, it would just lessen the pain of the inevitable mind-meld that is law school

RESOLUTION THE FIFTH: Take a multivitamin supplement
Let's face it -- I eat crap everyday. I'm the furthest thing from a vegan you'll ever find. I don't even come *close* to eating a balanced diet, and sadly, I probably never will. That's why I need a multivitamin. This is an incredibly easy thing to do. Sadly, it's the New Year's resolution I am least likely to follow through on because of it.

Probability of success: Very low, indeed.

Algae for Oil

So my uncle is a scientist who works for a university in the Pacific Northwest. He was in town today and over breakfast at Village Inn he started telling everyone about his current work: turning algae into oil. He even pulled out his laptop to show up where we could find the oil inside the algae. It was like watching a nerdy prospector with one tooth yell out "there's oiiiil in them there organelles!!! OIL, I TELLS YA!"

Personally, I think if he's going to be using alchemy to turn crap into other crap, he should be turning lead into gold or water into wine. But I had to be polite and the idea did seem intriguing, so I asked questions, which he ignored. He dodged when I asked him exactly how much oil you could squeeze out of the algae.

He also claimed that the algae they worked with was genetically-engineered to be virtually indestructible. When I asked him what they did at the lab to make sure this mutant pond-scum didn't get into Puget Sound and bloom like an onion at Outback Steakhouse, he seemed genuinely perplexed.

"That's a good question."

...seriously? A Berkeley-educated, PhD biology professor hasn't thought through the consequences of what happens if his $500 million mutant algae makes its way into the ecosystem? What if it becomes self-aware and decides to start calling its own shots like Skynet?

The algae decided our fate in a microsecond: extermination

All in all, I found his algae-mutate-for-drops-of-oil proposal tantalizing, but economically questionable. And slightly terrifying. He did encourage me to invest in algae farms, saying that pond scum oil would be the wave of the future. Eh. I'll think I'll put my money on emu oil.

If I *had* money, that is.

Soooo...

Had way too much "Christmas cheer" this weekend and got "Christmas sick." The maternal unit was "pissed." She tried to force-feed me menudo the next morning as soon as I woke up, but really, menudo is not appealing at all first thing in the morning. I think she did it as payback. Re-evaluating questionable decision-making patterns for the upcoming year.

In the meantime -- sleeeeep...

Feliz Navidad

Christmas is over. I survived yesterday's Mass in spite of questionable singing. I got two knives, a leather jacket, and cash as gifts. And my aunt snuck me two fairly strong sangrias, which I drank right in front of my mom's face without her knowing. All in all, a stereotypically Chucho-style Christmas.

Now, it's time to get back on another one of my half-assed diets. I wanna get a head-start on my empty promises New Year's Resolutions for 2010. And in all honesty, I'm not looking forward to the new year at EP Fitness. If it's anything like the Rec Center at UNT, for the next two weeks the gym will be flooded with lardos well-intentioned people clogging up the place like arterial plaque.

Seriously, though, I gotta get back on the ball. Sexy takes work. Stupid sexy.

Tabla Rasa

Dear 2010 --

Please get here soon. I did a lot of dumb shit in 2009, and I kind of want to just write this whole year off and call it "finding myself." Oh, learning the hard way about actions and your silly, silly consequences.

I've got fences to mend, bridges to burn, things to forget, and lessons to remember. I need a new start, a clean slate, a second (third? fourth?) chance. I need to limit my intake of Whataburger, caffeine, and The Fray. I should learn to stop going into bulldog argument mode when it comes to politics and instead talk about X-Men mythology more. I need to reconcile New Me with Old Me. I need to do a better job at balancing forces in opposition.

And also, I'm curious to see how many people say "Two thousand ten" as opposed to "Twenty ten."

So stop by when you can. But I'm in no rush. As the Arabs say, al-sabour jameel -- patience is beautiful. See you on the flip side, 2010. And 2009, go to Hell. Don't get me wrong, we had some good times together. But seriously, I'm through with you.


Your pal,
El Guero

A Quick Lesson on Circuit Courts

Today, I'm going to write about circuit courts -- because I'm a nerd and because I'm waiting for the boss' schedule to open up so I can harass him about a motion I finished two days ago that needs his approval.

First of all, a little background on the way things work: if you're an immigrant and you're getting deported, you don't go to court immediately. Granted, they *call* it court, the "judge" dresses up in "robes,"and all kind of legal mumbo jumbo goes down. But it's not court. Really, it's a no-rules, no-holds-barred, everything goes administrative proceeding, kind of like Survivor: The Department of Justice but not really.

Once everything goes down, if you or the government doesn't like what the immigration judge says, either of you can appeal to aptly-named Board of Immigration Appeals, also a part of DoJ. Then, if you don't like what the BIA has to say (and most immigrants don't), you appeal at the appellate level and go to real court at the circuit level.

The circuit courts are the ones that decide what lobbyists Congress *actually* meant when it passed a law. Each circuit is its own special little snowflake when it comes to interpreting law. There are 13 of them, and each one has a unique personality. Here's a map to give you a better idea of how things are divided up:

13 Special Little Gerrymandered Snowflakes!!!

You have to take these personalities into account when you pick cases to cite in your arguments. For instance, although the Supreme Court usually agrees with the 9th Circuit's logic, you have to take what that circuit says with a grain of salt because the judges there are a bunch of bong-toting hippies from the Northern Marianas Islands who believe in things like human dignity and we don't need a buncha damn Californians telling us how to do things in TEXXX-USS. Also, here in Texas, our circuit hates one of the other circuits. I can never remember which one, but we're not supposed to cite from it. I think they slept with our girlfriend in high school or something.

Anyways, ideally if you are an immigration lawyer in Texas, you want to cite cases from the 5th Circuit (THE FIGHTIN' FIFTH!!!!) which includes us, Louisiana, and Mississippi, for some reason. It's hard to find groundbreaking cases that will exonerate your client from the 5th Circuit because the judges tend to not like to think too hard about complicated things be more conservative. A lot of times they will affirm a lower court's ruling and pass the case onto the Supreme Court so those dudes and dudettes can try to make some sense out of the hot ghetto messes.

Right. So where was I going with this? I honestly can't remember. All I know is that my boss wants me to have an Erin Brockovitch moment and none of the circuits are helping me. If I could just find a case where some activist judge (probably in the 9th Circuit) interprets "illegal immigrants" to mean "penguins," that would really help me out.

But it would also make me sad, because then we'd have to deport millions of penguins. And I like penguins.

/nerdiness

Se Habla Español

Dear Everybody --

Yes. I speak Spanish. I know you think that because I'm a güero (EL Güero to you) with the whitest TV anchorman name ever that I either don't speak Spanish or that I only know enough to make an ass out of myself in public. (Yo KEE-air-oh Tah-ko Bell, way!)

I assure you, I'm a lot more fluent than you think I am. I tested out of three years of college coursework and ended up minoring in it. My grandmother doesn't speak a word of English. I've done court-approved translation of Mexican law. Freaking, I GREW UP HERE. "Ese güero nos entiende?"

Si cabrones, we're all required to take Spanish in high school. Even then, even if my mom *wasn't* an old-school Chicano rights activist and I really was a total white boy, you think people honestly don't understand *any* Spanish? It's not like you're speaking some complicated language like Chinese. El carro? You honestly think we can figure out that means "car"? Stupid heads.

Now am I perfect when I speak? No. But chances are, my Spanish is a lot better than your English. And, by the way, yes, I *listen* to music in Spanish. Almost exclusively. Check my iPod. Mana, Reik, Wisin y Yandel, Juanes, everything. Not only that, I know that Gloria Trevi is a crazy sex-pervert who supposedly trafficks young girls for her agent, that Daddy Yankee endorsed John McCain for president, and that Juanes started out in a Colombian metal band called Ekymosis.

So BACK UP, putos! Stop stereotyping me, or else -- palo!!!

This Would Probably Attract Chupacabras

Quote of the Day:

Please, this is TEXAS. If someone tells me I *can't* slaughter a goat on my lawn, that's Big Government. And we don't take that shit here -- Me to "The Baker" (yes, that's your nickname, you know why) re: the offering of goat holocausts to Our Lord

TEMPWAR!!!!

I woke up this morning freezing my ass off as usual. My family has the habit of keeping this house at the same temperature as an industrial-strength meat locker and then criticizing me for "being overdramatic" by wearing a hoodie or jacket inside.

Today I'd had enough and checked the thermostat to see if it was broken. It wasn't -- it was just set to 55 degrees.

WE ARE *PEOPLE* DAMMIT! Buildings in the First World should *not* be 55 degrees. So I cranked that bitch up to 75. When the family returned from morning Mass, they were incredibly upset and "hot." Well, tough shit. We've made it clear that we don't take the feelings of others into consideration when we make decisions. Let the passive aggression turn into an outright thermic war.

Standard negotiation procedure says the temperature should now be set to 65, which is closer to the more bearable temperature range of 68 to 77 degrees cited by Wikipedia as "room temperature." That is, if these miscreants are interested AT ALL in peace. If they do not cave, I shall be forced to continue being capricious. We are not poor. We do not live in a Charles Dickens novel. We can afford to have the heat on.

In fact, maybe I'll leave it on 90 and walk around shirtless in December. That actually sounds pretty nice. It also sounds like another negotiation tactic. No one wants to watch me sweat in boxer shorts. NOBODY. But that's a harsh tactic. I'll hold on to that one for later.

UGH AND MY DAD IS PLAYING OPERA AGAIN!!! THIS FAMILY IS DRIVING ME NUTS UUUUUUUUNNNNGHHH I HATE LIVING BACK AT HOME

/rant

Applications, Applications...

Add to applications list:

George Washington University -- Washington, DC (this school actually has a really badass national security law program. And guess who's into that?)

University of Hawaii at Manoa -- Honolulu, Hawaii (hey now, I really *am* actually interested in Hawaiian culture. And I could see myself making a life there. Just saying...)

EDIT 7:06 p.m. Accepted by the University of Miami...but they didn't offer me anything! Boo to them, that means they're pretty much off the list and that the offer from Baylor is a lot better than I had originally thought. This may be as good as it gets, folks...