Shibboleth

As I was riding my bike home from the gym tonight, standing up on the pedals, once again the conquering heroine of the lifecycle, and listening to one of my favorite sigur ros songs, attempting, rather poorly, to sing along (it was 11 pm. i'd never sing in public, but at that hour, i'm sure the neighbor's just thought it was some dog crying), I got out my phone to call Bryce.  This is my nightly routine when Bryce is away. I leave the gym, call Bryce (who lives/works 3 days a week in Nebraska) and then, while on the phone, I proceed to check the entire house for intruders.  He listens patiently as I stoop to look under the bed and the table, open closet doors, and pull back shower curtains, waiting for some lunatic to pop out.  I guess I think when this happens, I'll say, "sorry, no rape/burglary/murder for you tonight because I'm on the phone with my husband", and the thwarted ax murderer will turn tail and run.  

Why the hell do i do this?  I would not describe myself as a fearful individual.  I mean, in other circumstances, I don't conjur images of death and disaster all day.  I typically picture myself impervious to such harms, a privaldge that is jusitified by the fact that I am one half Amazon, and at least a quarter Wolverine (the healing powers, you know...).  Nevertheless, I find that my typically bear-like sleep cycles can be invaded by the sound of a squirrel outside or the faintest gust of wind against the window.  

In my criminal law class, we've just begun a chapter on rape.  Let me summarize what I've learned so far: In our society, which has condoned, and even encouraged, male aggressive behavior, a woman who has been victimized has traditionally had to prove that she used every means available to fight off said attacker, and if there was a telephone in the room and she somehow didn't contrive to excuse herself from the rape-in-progress and call the cops, she is probably lying, or even more likely, invited this action.  In addition, apparently men cannot interpret signs of reticence, and more often find statements like, "no thank you, no, no, no" to be coy demurrers from clever seductress (see Mr. Collins proposal to Elizabeth, Pride and Prejudice).  Oh, and the condescending title "date-rape" is really used to indicate legal suspicion that the woman should have had a few less tequilas.  

Studies indicate that the number of victimized women on college campuses could be as many as 1/2.  (studies vary widely on these numbers because the nature of rape is such that it is much more painful to confess than victimization by any other crime). Maybe this is why my fear has increased over the years.  Now that I've been in college for half my life, it seems that my chances are getting worse.  I don't mean to make light of this, but I do need to be able to sleep tonight.  

Is it possible that men need some kind of Shibboleth, a test that indicates when a woman is telling the truth? Do we really need to start saying, "oh yes, please, I wholeheartedly commit to this excellent prospect" in order to begin creating helpful legal distictions? Is it even feasible that our legal system supports this kind of thinking, making women out to be some kind of sphynx, speaking in riddles that baffle the minds of would-be attackers?  Can we really not hold rapists accountable for speaking a 3 year old's level of english? 

My main question is, how will being a lawyer allow me to allocate justice for the things I most want to change, when the current legal bar has been set so low, i can't even look at it (Leo). 

the voice of the people is the voice of a dog...er, god.

I am beginning this blog after three years and at least two new year's resolutions declaring my intentions to do so. I'd like it to be an accounting of my years in Denver, and, obviously, to create an outlet for my incessant west wing references.  I think Bryce will be relieved.  As I am sure that the only people who will read it will be those who have a legal duty to care about what i think (Bryce, Audrey, Heather), I don't plan to have a purpose...it's just for things i think are funny/absurd and the occasional political/social rant.  I'll begin with some brief vignettes of my life here, which can be summarized thus: Bear, pie, Bryce, school.

School: I was afraid it would be hard for me to make friends at school. I've lost any social skills I may have once had, making my first days of orientation terrifying, and I doubt that my post-depression puffiness and constant air of standoffish-ness was doing much to ingratiate me with my peers.  In addition, this (relatively, i know, i know...) f-ing cold climate has manifested in a sublime pallor that leaves me looking perpetually ill, a fact which led to the following:

Today, as I walked into school, still sweating from my four minute bike ride, swinging a bag that weighed more than Bear, and paler than ever, I conjured an image of how horrifying i must look.  Horrifyingly frightening.  This, combined with my status as the only person in a class of 300ish who went to an evangelical christian school led me to imagine the students scampering out of my wake because, to them, I looked like some sort of bizarre granola-albino (chacos, beatles  tshirt, freshly highlighted white bangs), coming to the law school to mete out some Da Vinci Code-esque retribution on this hub of liberal academia, with my timbuk2 bag full of stones to impose the lord's wrath upon them. 

I know it's a weird image, but it has been making me laugh all day.

An amusing quote from today:

Hillary (in a grocery store): agh, some child is screaming in the next aisle.

Me: that's what happens with kids.  They lure you into thinking they are cute, and just when you might consider having one, they turn around and bite you in the ass.

Hillary: Well, i've decided that it's only the annoying people who have annoying kids.

I suppose its as good a justification as any.