If you've known me for any amount of time, you'd have soon seen my profound affection for language and the human capacity for it. Language is a fascinating exercise, requiring sophisticated interplays of complex processes: the brain fits a thought into prescribed syntactical pattern while the oral and nasal cavities form and reform while pushing air from deep within and across your tongue and through your teeth to push sounds into recognizable units that--hopefully--someone else can understand. It's a wonder we master it at such a young age! But we do. And it's impossible to imagine living without language, or even a single word.

That's why, in keeping with my Valentine's/love-week theme, I heart words today.

Sometimes I think, "Which came first: the intent or the words?" And then I hope it was the words. How unbearable it would be to have interesting thoughts and have to keep them shut up inside one's own head!

But, while I love words generally, and there are many words that I love particularly, my favorite word is "lagniappe." In English, it's come to mean an extra gift that you get when you make a purchase. For example, a shopper at Christmastime buys a ladie's sweater as a gift for her mother. At the register, the cashier gives the shopper a small bottle of perfume. This little "extra" is unexpected. I think it could never have a negative effect on anyone. While it's certainly a useful word, what I love about its story.

In many ways, words are people. And in other ways, words are more than people will ever be. With every use, a word acquires character and an extra dimension to its verbal vitality. Some words are captured thoughtfully in the contemplative works of authors and poets; others are twisted and abused by careless... Long after any one of us is gone, a word remains--carrying with it all the experiences of its amaranthine life, and unfolding afresh with each new use. In this context, the etymology of "lagniappe" seems more like a romantic epic than simply an origin.

Lagniappe is truly American. It comes to English as a result of the conquest of the New World by the Old. It's creole and mestizo. And like any useful verbal tidbit, it was quickly taken in by English speakers. In Quecha, the language of a people indigenous to South America, "yapa" meant "something added." There is an underlying irony in the meaning of this word in that many South American peoples experienced great loss at the hands of European arrivers. Nonetheless, the Spanish adopted this "little extra", changing its form slightly to "La ñapa." As the Spanish expanded their work in the New World, they were frequently in contact with the French who were doing the same thing. The word was adopted from the Spanish into the French of the Mississippi delta. In that special dialect of French the word acquired its current form. Increasingly useful to those speaking the language of a competitive economy, lagniappe soon found its way to English where it remains an apt picture of the American story.

On close inspection, so many of the words we use have similarly revealing narratives. The words we use tell us more about who we are and where we've been than we often realize. When you stop to consider what the words you use reveal about your inner person, the result is awesome (in its full sense). For me "lagniappe" is more than just a cool story. In fact, it's something of an aspirational value for my blog. While not tangible, I hope that those who visit this Site leave with a sense of added value beyond just the words on the screen. If I could live my life imparting a "little extra value" to everyone I meet, I'm sure of living a full life.

If you were left with only one word you could use for the rest of your life, what would it be?

When I originally contemplated this series, I knew at some point this blog would have to be here. Given recent attention presence in the "headlions," I decided that today was the perfect day for this blog. Although she wasn't my Valentine (through no lack of trying on my part), I love Shakira. FYI, I've inundated this post with some of her song lyrics. See how many you can find!

Is this what you wanted? Although, dark-haired Shakira is still my favorite.

It's important to point out that she is one of the primary reasons that I decided to continue learning Spanish. "Objection!" I know some of you are thinking, but it's true. Before her song "Hips Don't Lie" made a world presence on the stage in the mid 2000s, the heavy beats and vocal power this cantante colombiana commanded in "La tortura" capitvated me. It's almost ridiculous almost I like her music. You can laugh, but only if laugh at me.

Part of the reason that I like her music is the range she has demonstrated over her career. Many of her early songs were kind of dark and contemplative, but usually imposed over an unusually upbeat tempo or melody. It's a great reminder that hen you least think it, the sun comes out. (Or else, South American music always sounds upbeat and to an American listener.) Anyway, her later work demonstrated an ongoing commitment to catchy rhythms, quirky lyrics, and dynamic integration of musical elements. And of course, she gave new life to the disco beat in some of her later stuff ("Loba," for example). She gets funky in a way funk's never been funked before.

Jamming with Shakira blaring from my computer is one of my favorite ways to do chores. Frequently, I find myself with bare feet while there are flies in the house, dancing around while sweeping or cleaning. It's invigorating: like my real life has just begun.

Most importanly, Shakira is an incredible humanitarian. She organized the barefeet foundation to help provide necessities and education to displaced children in her home country. The goal of the foundation is to increase the quality of life of the children they can reach in Colombia. While Colombia has produced several global superstars (Shakira, Fanny Lu, Juanes, Sofia Vergara, among others), it's still in many ways an unstable and war-torn country. The organization she founded brings a little more stability to that uncertain climate, especially to those who need it most.

Plus--her hips. They don't lie. Enough said.

Her recent adventures in South Africa reminded me that it certainly would be torture to lose her. If you're reading this Shaki, I'm seated waiting for you.

How do you rate Shakira's music?

In keeping with my I'm-not-going-to-be-sad-that-I'm-not-in-a-fulfilling-relationship/Valentines theme, today I'd like for you to get know better my favorite color: aqua.

Around the world, the oceans unify and impact humanity. It's in this liquid womb that aqua has its origins. "Aqua" originally meant "water" in Latin. And at least one source claims that its application to the name for the color is fairly recent. I, however, believe that the color component of the term co-existed with its description of life's essence since time immemorable. With that in mind, it is inappropriate to trivialize the color as a "mere" mixture of blue and green. Rather, it's a pervasive color seen in many iterations and hues, appreciated all over the world.

Quite calming, aqua has a soothing effect. It's gentle combination of blue and green are easy to see. The softness and pallor of the hue are comforting. It's not a color that screams at your or cries for your attention. Rather, aqua is content to lay low--chill and mellow--until you can notice and fully appreciate its awesome and subtle impact. For me, aqua is a color that doesn't offend my eyes or stimulate my other senses in an overwhelming way. It's a color with balance: it has a strong sense of identity but is not too aggressive. It's perfectly pleasant.

Unforuntately, perhaps because of its take-it-easy vibe, many people confuse aqua with other colors like turqoise, teal, and sea-foam green. Here it is important to make a distinction because aqua is its own color. And while it rests comfortably in the family of marine-colored siblings, conflating it with others only leads to confusion. Unlike teal and turquoise, aqua is not bright or bold. Aqua prefers dressing up the morning sky and coloring river beds when a drought ends to adorning the wings of ducks or Western apparel. Similarly, aqua is bluer than sea-foam green; but that doesn't mean it can't have just as good a time!

At last, having aqua on the brain is very practical. It's a great word to use when you have a "q" in your rack in Words with Friends. There is usually an accessible "A" on the board, if adjacent to three other blank spaces, voila! You're a WWF guru (especially if you can land that Q on a bonus tile)!

What's your favorite color? Why? Even though it's not as awesome as aqua?

Rather than focus of my lack of a significant other as during Valentine season, I'm going to make an effort to post about one thing that I love everyday this week (ending Friday). It's not the same kind of love that Valentine's day intends to celebrate; still, it's an attachment that makes my life more enjoyable. So, I'll celebrate that. Plus, I won't have to buy chocolates/cards/random stuffed animals holding a heart.

For today: I love chicken nuggets.

The chicken nugget is the pinnacle of versatility, yet these power remain largely unrecognized. They've marched right across cultural divides. For example, where I get my groceries, the store has most items labeled in both English and Spanish. When I bought chicken nuggets, it said "Chicken Nuggets" on one side and "Nuggets de pollo" on the other. I'm confident, then, that chicken can take no higher form than the nugget.

Chicken nuggets for breakfast: put a chicken nugget between a biscuit and BAMMO! Awesome breakfast. Plus, it's probably better for you than a sausage patty. Serve it up with a side of grits and some fruit. Perfect. Alternatively, turn breakfast into a chicken power-hour: use two or three chicken nuggets with some egg as the meaty center to a delicious breakfast taquito topped with salsa. Cock-a-doodle-icious.

Chicken nuggets for lunch: Chicken nuggets + macaroni & cheese + grapes or apples + fun dipping sauces. It's a winning lunch every time. It CANNOT be improved...unless you actually deep fry one or more of those meal components.

Chicken nuggets for snack: chicken nuggets + ranch dip + carrot and celery sticks. Chicken strips also work well, but not everyone has a big, shiny pole in their dining rooms for the clucky, avian descent of the chicken to the mainstage (your plate).

Chicken nuggets for supper: I just thought of many ways to make chicken nuggets for dinner, but I'm going to list only three. ASIAN chicken nuggets: If you "rikey nuggy," place chicken nuggets on a bed of shredded cabbage. Pour lemon sauce (chicken stock, sugar, corn starch, and lemon juice) over the chicken nuggets/shredded cabbage. Serve with rice and stir-fry vegetables. PANINO A LA PARMAGIANA: Chicken nuggets on a hoagie roll with marinara sauce and provolone and parmesan cheese. This would be great either with fries or a salad...plus an offensively stereotypical Sicilian accent could only help. MEDITERRANEAN: Chicken nuggets in pita pockets with lettuce, humus, and roasted red bell pepper. If served with couscous, your meal will surely be a Moroccan good time!

There are so many yummy options. I'm beginning to understand how this "chick" managed to "nugget" anything else in her belly but the tantalizing chicken nugget. Get it? "Nugget" sounds like "not get." I'm funny sometimes...even if only in my own "nuggin."

For your reading pleasure, I've included a few chicken nugget jokes (most of which I stole):

Did you know deer nuggets are cheaper than chicken nuggets? It's true: chicken nuggets cost $1.49, but deer nuggets are under a buck!

Chicken nuggets are very industrious: they work around the "cluck."

Chicken nuggets are the hardest type of nugget to approach in the wild: they're more scared of you than you are of them (because chicken = scared).

Interactive joke (create your own punchline): "Which part of the chicken is the 'nugget'?"

How much do you love chicken nuggets? Would you get your Valentine chicken nuggets? What's your favorite chicken nugget shape? (Never mind, the only correct answer is "Chickasaurus rex.")

She wasn't very old, but the scent about her made her seem seasoned. Something about tobacco makes everything seem weathered and earthy...and durable.

We exchanged the initial pleasantries about the haircut. Then, she asked, strangely enough, whether I lived "around here." From there, we got into a discussion about me going to law school, which led to her telling stories about her experiences being on a jury, leading to her tell stories about her relatives' experiences on juries, which led to her talking about her family. I'm glad she was chatty. A trim can be a "hair"rowing ordeal: the proximity of two people in personal grooming suggests intimacy (at least among primates), but it's essentially an arm's (or scissors') length transaction. Her chattiness humanized the situation.

I'm always a little nervous about getting a haircut. Many times, I doubt whether I've communicated clearly what I want and whether I'm sure that what I communicated is what I actually wanted. As she moved about, first with the clippers and then with the scissors, the cigarette smell occasionally wafted across my face. It was reassuring

"Huh...huh...right?" Is what usually follows. It's helpful for indicating a comical or facetious intent in many situations. It's also indispensable when one has inadvertently presented an issue that is too heavy or awkward for the otherwise light and congenial conversation at hand to bear.

For example, Charlie and Meg are at a party exchanging pleasantries. When asked what he thinks of the the hosts, Charlies responds: "They always put on a nice party...it's like they're trying too hard to convince everyone things are okay in their relationship." Seeing that Meg is noticeably uncomfortable by his statements, Charlie can regain control of the situation by throwing out the nudge wing and either: (1) follow it with a "just kidding, but seriously, they're great;" or (2) continue the act until the other person begins to smile in recognition that it was intended as a joke (despite the fact that it wasn't really). While the awkward is totally attenuated, its taint is lessened.

The nudge wing was originally intended as stall tactic arising from the inherent ambiguities existing in language. People need a means to prolong the contemplation of what was last said. Often, a speaker makes a comment and the hearer, having understood one meaning of the statement, proceeds with the conversation adopting the initial meaning. However, where the speaker can tell the hearer didn't understand the correct meaning, there needs to be a way to suggest that there was present in that assertion a double entendre that the hearer might not have received. Simply explaining the subtle meaning would destroy its impact, much the same way that explaining a joke renders it unfunny. A simple means to suggest that the hearer should linger on the thought a little longer is crucial. Thus, the nudge wing, as well as the wink, developed.

To be clear, the "nudge wing" is a particular variety of gesticulation. To practice, bend your elbow (usually the right, but the left is also acceptable) to form an acute angle. Then, move it. The movement can be front to back, out and in, a little jiggle, whatever you works for you. This is the "wing." Next, thrust the pointed elbow gently toward the person standing next to you. Maintain the movement with the thrusting. This is the "nudge." It is imperative that while gesticulating that you make one of several, appropriate remarks:

"Right?"
"You get what I'm saying...?"
"You know what I mean..."
"YOU get what I'm saying..."
"Get it?"
or my favorite: the Raineesha Williams: "Huh...?"

(For clarification, watch this video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KOn0JzI03cU It happens right before she says "Hey Hey Hey!"). It forms at the back of the throat and asserts itself with a nasal brusqueness that matches the intrusion of the nudge wing. They're the perfect complements--like macaroni and cheese.

The end goal of the nudge wing is to solicit a smile from the other party. Because the gesture is itself patently absurd, the smile doesn't usually take long. BUT! be advised: while they appear to be humans, statues aren't. The wing nudge has no effect on statues. If you attempt the wing nudge on a statue, you will not reach the natural termination point and be forced to end the maneuver prematurely. While this can be done, it is to be avoided. The absurdity, in those cases, is recognized only by one person, the wing-nudger. Rather than having a jocular effect, the tone of the gesture is sad, confusing, and pathetic. That misfortune is only compounded when others also observe.

It is similarly inappropriate to use the nudge wing on: people significantly shorter than you (you hit their faces), people significantly taller than you (you risk hitting their "business," if you know what I mean...wink, wink, nudge wing), people on crutches (you may knock them over), the paranoid (who may think you're trying to injure them), para- and quadriplegics (who may be offended at your blatant display of appendage mobility). There, the nudge wing has the effect of multiplying any extant awkwardness rather than dispelling it.

A final word of warning: the nudge wing, unlike actual wings, should only be used one at a time. Using more than one nudge wing simultaneously will result in an impromptu avian impression, which while distracting, doesn't achieve the goals contemplated by the developers of the nudge wing.

While I'm usually terrible in social situations, the wing nudge is something I use to my advantage. Let's just say that it's helped me "take flight" from many a otherwise-incorrigible faux pas.

I nudge wing and now you can too!

The best part about taking trusts and estates is that I now have no problem trying to get to sleep at night.

All I have to do now is pop open my casebook or materials supplement and beging reading about how a state high court is deciding how to handle community property or a resulting trust, etc., and I quickly fall to sleep. There is a potential downside: I have to make sure that I finish my other homework first. Otherwise, I'd just fall asleep before I had a chance to get stuff done. And that's no good.

Last night, though, I started on my T&E homework relatively early. I was asleep within the hour. While I got a lot of rest, which I desperately needed, I didn't get a lot of homework done. I still have to get ready for business organization later this afternoon. So far, that class has been interesting.

While procrastinating, I'm enjoying the sense of refreshment that lingers following the restful evening. Soon, though, I'll need to throw myself into understanding agency...which doesn't sound as pleasant. Alas, it is the lot I've chosen.

***EDIT: I failed to make it to class on time. Consequently, I couldn't go. Typical Trey...***

Things in life have been weird lately...really weird. Beyond-my-ability-handle weird. I thought that by now I'd be able to stop screwing things up in my life, even if not able to fix the things that aren't my fault.

I walked into my apartment recently and was affronted with a perturbing sense of sourness. It wasn't overwhelming. But it was present, alarmingly so. And pervasive. I flitted around trying to locate the source. I checked the usual offenders: trash, toilet, mildewy towel, the trash again, and the dirty clothes bin...everything but the kitchen sink. And then I checked the kitchen sink. It was the kitchen sink. Little remnants of foodstuff had been shred and collected together in the drain. The mechanism for washing the junk just let it grow old and

'Twas quite apropos for a an unquiet trope.

I've been harboring a lot of bitterness lately that has become a sort of mental and emotional rot. Most of it involves me being way too self absorbed and unable to move past stupid choices I make. With my steel-trap mind, I keep replaying mistakes over and over. I don't let my inner, disposal mechanism do its job. And, even when I do move past stuff, there are little bits that I hold onto and that accrete into a sort of psychic sepsis.

Fortunately, I can fix the sink thing with a few slices of lemon and some vinegar. The other problems don't appear as apparently remediable. Ugh! I should probably start doing stuff for other people. I dislike other people...they bewilder me.

There's probably a justifiable reason for me to be angry. But I'm not. I'm just freakin' exhausted.

I'm tired of being awkward.
I'm tired of making mistakes.
I'm tired of not having a receptive audience when I just need to vent.
I'm tired of feeling like there's no one who shares my interests.
I'm tired of the systematic belittling of the things that I find interesting.
I'm tired of failing.
I'm tired of not being able to contribute to a peer group.
I'm tired of the "hating" and backbiting.
I'm over school.

I should go take a nap.

I am now officially a 2L!

My first year of law school is behind me. But, the worst quarter of my life (before P.C.) is in front of me. Now that I have a basic understanding of torts, contracts, criminal law, civil procedure, and property, you would think I could start learning fun stuff. Alas, my schedule is filled with appellate advocacy, business organization, tax, and (duh duh duh) trusts & estates. *Wa-hoo!* Oh, btw, I've started putting things between asterisks to indicate I'm saying them sarcastically. I call it sTarcasm...or *casm for short. I think it has legs.

But...there's no rest for the weary. My last final ended 49 minutes ago and I already have assignments posted for my classes that start next quarter. My next quarter starts, btw, MONDAY. Law school just never ends. I've been neglecting many of the things that I've been meaning to do (study abroad applications, internship applications, showering, etc.) because of finals...but...I might have made a bad choice. I don't foresee things calming down in the near future to permit me to get these things done.

But. Right now, I've finished my first year of law school and I have a margarita. It should be a time for reflection. It's at this point that I should offer some sage advice to those who (faithfully--thank you!) read my often-whiney blog. I should conclude with upbeat and positive note about how meaningful life is when you've endured and gotten through to the other side of hardship.

...but I got nothin'...

Lo mejor que puedo hacer es gritar "Salud!" antes de sorber esta margarita...si, tiene bombillo. Ahora, me apetece el tequila. Buenas tardes!

It appears that the margarita is working. Wa-hoo! (Note the absence of asterisks.)