In the public's interest
Been a while since I've posted. Here's where I am:
Mike and I broke up a few days ago. It's complicated, it's irritating, and he's clinging to the wreckage like the Titanic isn't going down, much to my chagrin. Interestingly, most of my doubts as to the wisdom of the breakup have been resolved by his poor behavior. I'm pretty disgusted with the questions he's deemed appropriate to ask, the accusations and arguments he's brought up, and the sexist shit he's been posting on facebook since then.
I have a summer externship with HALSA (HIV/AIDS Legal Services Alliance), starting at the very end of May. I'm really excited about it and have fantastic rapport with the lead folks there. I hope to impress them. Right now it's unpaid, but I should be eligible for at least 3 grants, potentially. I've performed about 40 public service hours at this point so, in theory, I'm a shoo-in. If I get any of them, most of my expenses for the next year will be covered (on account of how I bum off my parents, so I don't pay for rent, utilities, or most of my food).
I am now Secretary of the Student Mediation Association and am planning everything largely by myself. The previous Secretary left school, which was really sad because I was pretty close with her, and I was thrust into the position. The President elect does nothing. The current President does some things, and I let it go when he doesn't do other things because he's pretty and I'm shallow sometimes. He occasionally pokes fun at my activities (and lack thereof), asking if I'm choosing to not do certain things because they "aren't in the public's interest."
I'm also running, unchallenged, for Secretary of GRAP (General Relief Advocacy Project) through Public Counsel. We visit DPSS offices and argue with government employees until they give poor people their benefits.
I'm also probably taking on a leadership position with Teen Court, since the Fairfax HS Teen Court leadership is graduating and, well, this is just what I do. Fill voids that need filling.
I've been volunteering with A New Way of Life Reentry Project. The UCLA law students that I've worked with so far have been disappointing. One of them added typos to a declaration of mine that he edited. The other two I worked with this week ignored the client and chatted amongst themselves during downtime. At the end, the client informed me that I was his favorite and very professional. I care about helping first and foremost, but I'd be lying if I pretended there wasn't any ego attached to it.
Today, while in Hollywood, I found a man passed out, half in the street, half on the curb. I confirmed that he was alive--there was serious doubt for a moment--and attempted to speak with him. As I knelt down, I caught a distinct scent--that old liquor scent that you get from passing out after drinking heavily without brushing your teeth. I couldn't tell if he didn't speak English or was too drunk to speak, but he didn't seem to respond to Spanish either.
I tried to give him water, but he just spilled it on himself. I looked through a file in my phone for nearby homeless shelters, but couldn't find one in Hollywood on my incomplete list of emergency winter shelters. I wouldn't have known how to get him there anyway. I didn't want to call the cops because I was certain that would only make matters worse for him. I placed the water bottle in front of him, roused his attention long enough to make eye contact and tell him to drink water, when he could. It would make him feel better, I insisted. He nodded, groaned, and put his head down again. His baseball cap was a few feet away and he was mostly bald, so I placed it back on his head, gently, hoping to prevent the almost inevitable sunburn. I left the bottle and walked away.
I don't know if I did the right thing. He might have died of heatstroke, just lying out there, slowly dehydrating. I hope he makes it through another day, or long enough to find the help that he clearly needs.
Mike and I broke up a few days ago. It's complicated, it's irritating, and he's clinging to the wreckage like the Titanic isn't going down, much to my chagrin. Interestingly, most of my doubts as to the wisdom of the breakup have been resolved by his poor behavior. I'm pretty disgusted with the questions he's deemed appropriate to ask, the accusations and arguments he's brought up, and the sexist shit he's been posting on facebook since then.
I have a summer externship with HALSA (HIV/AIDS Legal Services Alliance), starting at the very end of May. I'm really excited about it and have fantastic rapport with the lead folks there. I hope to impress them. Right now it's unpaid, but I should be eligible for at least 3 grants, potentially. I've performed about 40 public service hours at this point so, in theory, I'm a shoo-in. If I get any of them, most of my expenses for the next year will be covered (on account of how I bum off my parents, so I don't pay for rent, utilities, or most of my food).
I am now Secretary of the Student Mediation Association and am planning everything largely by myself. The previous Secretary left school, which was really sad because I was pretty close with her, and I was thrust into the position. The President elect does nothing. The current President does some things, and I let it go when he doesn't do other things because he's pretty and I'm shallow sometimes. He occasionally pokes fun at my activities (and lack thereof), asking if I'm choosing to not do certain things because they "aren't in the public's interest."
I'm also running, unchallenged, for Secretary of GRAP (General Relief Advocacy Project) through Public Counsel. We visit DPSS offices and argue with government employees until they give poor people their benefits.
I'm also probably taking on a leadership position with Teen Court, since the Fairfax HS Teen Court leadership is graduating and, well, this is just what I do. Fill voids that need filling.
I've been volunteering with A New Way of Life Reentry Project. The UCLA law students that I've worked with so far have been disappointing. One of them added typos to a declaration of mine that he edited. The other two I worked with this week ignored the client and chatted amongst themselves during downtime. At the end, the client informed me that I was his favorite and very professional. I care about helping first and foremost, but I'd be lying if I pretended there wasn't any ego attached to it.
Today, while in Hollywood, I found a man passed out, half in the street, half on the curb. I confirmed that he was alive--there was serious doubt for a moment--and attempted to speak with him. As I knelt down, I caught a distinct scent--that old liquor scent that you get from passing out after drinking heavily without brushing your teeth. I couldn't tell if he didn't speak English or was too drunk to speak, but he didn't seem to respond to Spanish either.
I tried to give him water, but he just spilled it on himself. I looked through a file in my phone for nearby homeless shelters, but couldn't find one in Hollywood on my incomplete list of emergency winter shelters. I wouldn't have known how to get him there anyway. I didn't want to call the cops because I was certain that would only make matters worse for him. I placed the water bottle in front of him, roused his attention long enough to make eye contact and tell him to drink water, when he could. It would make him feel better, I insisted. He nodded, groaned, and put his head down again. His baseball cap was a few feet away and he was mostly bald, so I placed it back on his head, gently, hoping to prevent the almost inevitable sunburn. I left the bottle and walked away.
I don't know if I did the right thing. He might have died of heatstroke, just lying out there, slowly dehydrating. I hope he makes it through another day, or long enough to find the help that he clearly needs.