----- Original Message -----
From: "dullain Ehrlich" [dullainehrlich@wsrp.org]
To: "'Donald Povia'" [dpovia@georgewbush.com],"'Peter Abbarno'" [peterabbarno@wsrp.org], "Jon Seaton" [jseaton@georgewbush.org]
Sent: Mon, 19 Jul 2004 21:07:52 -0700
Subject: FW: RE: Federal Campaign Law FYI DULLAIN
-----Original Message-----
From: Ann Humphreys [mailto:ash439@gte.net]
Sent: Monday, July 19, 2004 7:03 PM
To: Dullain
Subject: Fw: RE: Federal Campaign Law
----- Original Message -----
From: "ardean anvik" [ardeananvik@hotmail.com]
To: [ash439@gte.net]
Sent: Saturday, July 17, 2004 10:08 AM
Subject: FW: RE: Federal Campaign Law
FYI - I sent a request to Chris and here is his reply
Ardean Anvik
----- Original Message -----
From: "Chris Vance" [chrisvance@wsrp.org]
To: "'ardean anvik'" [ardeananvik@hotmail.com]
Subject: RE: Federal Campaign Law
Date: Fri, 16 Jul 2004 12:52:54 -0700
Will do!
CV
-----Original Message-----
From: ardean anvik
[mailto:ardeananvik@hotmail.com]
Sent: Friday, July 16, 2004 12:47 PM
To: chrisvance@wsrp.org
Subject: Federal Campaign Law
Chris,I took the information you gave me regarding usage of County Party assets (e.g. newsletters, phone banks) for federal candidates to my County Central Committee and asked for direction as to accepting ads from campaigns or individuals. I explained the information you had provided. Steve VanDenover, Mason County Chair, asked me to check with other counties as to how they are handling national candidates, such as Nethercutt, Bush and Congressional Candidates.
I called a few counties and discussed this issue in detail with the State Committeewoman and Editor of the Skagit County Republican newsletter, Ann Marie Humphreys. She was unaware of the prohibiitions that you had outlined to me for newsletters. IN fact she had an ad for George Bush in her latest Newsletter. I told her what you had explained to me about newsletter prohibitions.May I request that you or someone on your staff send directions regarding what Counties can and cannot do as it pertains to newsletters and phone banks usage for federal candidates.
There is a great deal of ignorance out here and many counties are violating the campaign law as I understood it from you. God help us if the Democrats find out.
I think we all need direction. Can you help us?
Thanks, Chris
Tuesday, October 26, 2004
Oops. We found out.
I found this internal email posted at DailyKos (care of the Dead Letter Office at GeorgeWBush.org):
More dirty tricks
The BBC reports:
A secret document obtained from inside Bush campaign headquarters in Florida suggests a plan - possibly in violation of US law - to disrupt voting in the state's African-American voting districts, a BBC Newsnight investigation reveals.
A secret document obtained from inside Bush campaign headquarters in Florida suggests a plan - possibly in violation of US law - to disrupt voting in the state's African-American voting districts, a BBC Newsnight investigation reveals.
Tuesday, October 12, 2004
And the show has reached a new low...
Wonderful.
Employees of a private voter registration company allege that hundreds,
perhaps thousands of voters who may think they are registered will be rudely
surprised on election day. The company claims hundreds of registration forms
were thrown in the trash. Anyone who has recently registered or re-registered to vote outside a mall or grocery store or even government building may be affected.
The I-Team has obtained information about an alleged widespread pattern of potential registration fraud aimed at democrats. Thee focus of the story is a private registration company called Voters Outreach of America, AKA America Votes.
The out-of-state firm has been in Las Vegas for the past few months, registering voters. It employed up to 300 part-time workers and collected hundreds of registrations per day, but former employees of the company say that Voters Outreach of America only wanted Republican registrations.
Two former workers say they personally witnessed company supervisors rip up and trash registration forms signed by Democrats. "We caught her taking Democrats out of my pile, handed them to her assistant and he ripped them up right in front of us. I grabbed some of them out of the garbage and she tells her assisatnt to get those from me," said Eric Russell, former Voters Outreach employee.Eric Russell managed to retrieve a pile of shredded paperwork including signed voter registration forms, all from Democrats. We took them to the Clark County Election Department and confirmed that they had not, in fact, been filed with the county as required by law.
So the people on those forms who think they will be able to vote on Election Day are sadly mistaken. We attempted to speak to Voters Outreach but found that
its office has been rented out to someone else. The landlord says Voters Outreach was evicted for non-payment of rent. Another source said the company has now moved on to Oregon where it is once again registering voters. It's unknown how many registrations may have been tossed out, but another ex-employee
told Eyewitness News she had the same suspicions when she worked there.It's going to take a while to sort all of this out, but the immediate concern for voters is to make sure you really are registered. Call the Clark County Election Department at 455-VOTE to see if you are registered.
The company has been largely, if not entirely funded, by the Republican National Committee. Similar complaints have been received in Reno where the registrar has asked the FBI to investigate.
Insomnia
I'm stuck in this cycle...either I'm sleep deprived and never have enough time to catch up on sleep, or I dedicate my weekend to sleeping and then have insomnia during the week.
I know I haven't been writing much recently. Sorry. Give me another two weeks and I'll be back.
I know I haven't been writing much recently. Sorry. Give me another two weeks and I'll be back.
Wednesday, September 29, 2004
Wow. 2 weeks since I last posted? It felt like only a couple days.
Briefly...
Do you ever find that you really like a song but that you feel silly liking it? Listen to Stacie Orrico's "(There's Gotta Be) More To Life" sometime. I'm sorry to admit it, but I just can't get enough of this song. As I told a good friend tonight, at least people can't blackmail you about something if you make it public knowledge. :-)
Mood: Optimistic. (completed 6 in the last 3 days, if you know what I spend my time on)
Song: Take a guess...
Briefly...
Do you ever find that you really like a song but that you feel silly liking it? Listen to Stacie Orrico's "(There's Gotta Be) More To Life" sometime. I'm sorry to admit it, but I just can't get enough of this song. As I told a good friend tonight, at least people can't blackmail you about something if you make it public knowledge. :-)
Mood: Optimistic. (completed 6 in the last 3 days, if you know what I spend my time on)
Song: Take a guess...
Tuesday, September 14, 2004
Late-Night Reflections
Late-Night Reflections
It has been a very long day. Up at 7, at work by 8:30, out of work by 7:30, home by 8:30, working on applications until now, around 2:30 am. Wonderful.
The application-writing environment reminds me a lot of being a student. As I often did during late-night studying binges at Stanford, I immerse myself in music to make it through the early morning hours. A single small lamp lights my desk, revealing the piles of half-finished drafts, crumpled papers, application instructions from one of three dozen schools, and, in the back, a nearly-finished container of chocolate-covered coffee beans.
But it is the music that reminds me of college more than anything else. Music puts me back in the environment, which reminds me of the people, which reminds me of the entire experience. I tie music closely to the work I'm doing, or at least it brings me back to the month and year when it first became one of my favorites. (Aside: I'm usually terrible at remembering a specific month from years prior. Do I remeber what I was doing in August 1999? Not unless I sit down and figure out what year in school it was. Then I might have a shot. But music? I can usually place the month, year, and location when I first heard the song, or when it became a staple of my all-nighters.) And, for some reason, the music tonight sparked a serious case of college nostalgia.
I'm all honesty, I don't have too many powerful regrets about college. Maybe the whole "not getting into medical school" thing, but I'd like to think that I've had good, educational experiences in the years since I graduated. (I'm certainly a different person in many ways.) And, sure, I have a few minor regrets, but I feel like I took advantage of the time I had.
That being said, I still long for it. Or, perhaps more accurately, I long for it now that I remember it. After being immersed in Stanford for six years (school and employment combined), the move to Baltimore was exactly what I needed. I forgot about Stanford. Not the people, not my friends, but the place and its institutional anchors, sure. At least for a while. In the last few months, I've started to re-discover memories from college that had been hiding in the back recesses of my brain for the last 12 months. (And now that I'm trying to remember the experience, it's frustrating that I don't have more photos from junior or senior year. Or, for that matter, that I didn't sleep enough during those two years to retain even the slightest idea of what happened. Just kidding. Sort of.)
The election marks the passage of time, for sure. I remember sitting in Barristers and watching the returns come in, then running back up to my room to work on a paper. When the Florida debacle began, though, I pretty much gave up on the paper so I could see all the drama unfold.
But I don't really associate the 2000 election with Stanford. Again, it's the music that draws me. Reminds me of parties roaming throughout the Toyon Halls, reminds me of Fridays at TGIF, reminds me of days and nights of revelry. (Sorry for any non-Stanford people reading this. I usually try to avoid specific contextual references, but in this case it's unavoidable.) And sometimes I'm sure that the memories of simple times -- talking with people in the hallway late into the night, making fun of the drunk people coming back from various parties, walking across the Quad on a moonlit night -- are the ones I miss most.
At the same time, I look at where I am now. It's not a bad situation, but I certainly never expected to be here. (Yeah, I know, nobody knows where they'll end up, etc., etc.) I'm in a new city, new apartment, new job, and yet I'm still applying to medical school. It's funny that the only near-constant thing in my life over the last few years (other than my friends and family) is the weight of applications on my shoulders. And yet I press on. I think I have a pretty good chance this year.
I continue to make steady progress on the secondaries. Finished two more tonight, will mail them tomorrow. I really could use a few days off from work to complete applications, but that's not likely to happen.
Many schools ask you to include a photo with your application. I found a good picture of me with some friends earlier this summer, zoomed in on myself, and printed a dozen shots. Not bad. I cut them out and put a little 2"x3" photo of me, smiling, in almost every envelope. Right next to the check with the application fee. It's an odd contrast. See me? Smiling and happy? I'm a great guy who would do great at your school! And here's a bunch of money that I can't really afford to give to you, and I'm giving it to you! Just so you'll take a look at my application. (Seriously, some schools charge $100 for the secondary application to be "processed." Don't get me started.)
I wonder what the admissions people see when they open the envelope. Me, smiling? Some schools process thousands of applications. Do any of the admissions people stop and look at the photo? Do they think, "Hey, that's a good picture of that guy" or "Nice guy, too bad he probably won't get in" or just "Another applicant, another photo".....?
Then, of course, I wonder about the realities of throwing one's self at something with such frequency and such force. At what point do I cede to reality and say, fine, I move on with my life. I tell myself that I'll do exactly that if I don't get in this year, but I'm not entirely sure I belive myself. After 3 years and several thousand dollars, you'd think that I would learn to cut my losses. Maybe I just really wasn't meant to be a doctor. But for now I maintain hope.
Hope. I have plenty of songs for hope. And for now, that's all I need. That and the rest of those chocolate-covered coffee beans.
Mood: You figure it out. "Tired yet optimistic" is the closest I can come.
Songs: Dozens. Right now, a classical piece to put me to sleep.
It has been a very long day. Up at 7, at work by 8:30, out of work by 7:30, home by 8:30, working on applications until now, around 2:30 am. Wonderful.
The application-writing environment reminds me a lot of being a student. As I often did during late-night studying binges at Stanford, I immerse myself in music to make it through the early morning hours. A single small lamp lights my desk, revealing the piles of half-finished drafts, crumpled papers, application instructions from one of three dozen schools, and, in the back, a nearly-finished container of chocolate-covered coffee beans.
But it is the music that reminds me of college more than anything else. Music puts me back in the environment, which reminds me of the people, which reminds me of the entire experience. I tie music closely to the work I'm doing, or at least it brings me back to the month and year when it first became one of my favorites. (Aside: I'm usually terrible at remembering a specific month from years prior. Do I remeber what I was doing in August 1999? Not unless I sit down and figure out what year in school it was. Then I might have a shot. But music? I can usually place the month, year, and location when I first heard the song, or when it became a staple of my all-nighters.) And, for some reason, the music tonight sparked a serious case of college nostalgia.
I'm all honesty, I don't have too many powerful regrets about college. Maybe the whole "not getting into medical school" thing, but I'd like to think that I've had good, educational experiences in the years since I graduated. (I'm certainly a different person in many ways.) And, sure, I have a few minor regrets, but I feel like I took advantage of the time I had.
That being said, I still long for it. Or, perhaps more accurately, I long for it now that I remember it. After being immersed in Stanford for six years (school and employment combined), the move to Baltimore was exactly what I needed. I forgot about Stanford. Not the people, not my friends, but the place and its institutional anchors, sure. At least for a while. In the last few months, I've started to re-discover memories from college that had been hiding in the back recesses of my brain for the last 12 months. (And now that I'm trying to remember the experience, it's frustrating that I don't have more photos from junior or senior year. Or, for that matter, that I didn't sleep enough during those two years to retain even the slightest idea of what happened. Just kidding. Sort of.)
The election marks the passage of time, for sure. I remember sitting in Barristers and watching the returns come in, then running back up to my room to work on a paper. When the Florida debacle began, though, I pretty much gave up on the paper so I could see all the drama unfold.
But I don't really associate the 2000 election with Stanford. Again, it's the music that draws me. Reminds me of parties roaming throughout the Toyon Halls, reminds me of Fridays at TGIF, reminds me of days and nights of revelry. (Sorry for any non-Stanford people reading this. I usually try to avoid specific contextual references, but in this case it's unavoidable.) And sometimes I'm sure that the memories of simple times -- talking with people in the hallway late into the night, making fun of the drunk people coming back from various parties, walking across the Quad on a moonlit night -- are the ones I miss most.
At the same time, I look at where I am now. It's not a bad situation, but I certainly never expected to be here. (Yeah, I know, nobody knows where they'll end up, etc., etc.) I'm in a new city, new apartment, new job, and yet I'm still applying to medical school. It's funny that the only near-constant thing in my life over the last few years (other than my friends and family) is the weight of applications on my shoulders. And yet I press on. I think I have a pretty good chance this year.
I continue to make steady progress on the secondaries. Finished two more tonight, will mail them tomorrow. I really could use a few days off from work to complete applications, but that's not likely to happen.
Many schools ask you to include a photo with your application. I found a good picture of me with some friends earlier this summer, zoomed in on myself, and printed a dozen shots. Not bad. I cut them out and put a little 2"x3" photo of me, smiling, in almost every envelope. Right next to the check with the application fee. It's an odd contrast. See me? Smiling and happy? I'm a great guy who would do great at your school! And here's a bunch of money that I can't really afford to give to you, and I'm giving it to you! Just so you'll take a look at my application. (Seriously, some schools charge $100 for the secondary application to be "processed." Don't get me started.)
I wonder what the admissions people see when they open the envelope. Me, smiling? Some schools process thousands of applications. Do any of the admissions people stop and look at the photo? Do they think, "Hey, that's a good picture of that guy" or "Nice guy, too bad he probably won't get in" or just "Another applicant, another photo".....?
Then, of course, I wonder about the realities of throwing one's self at something with such frequency and such force. At what point do I cede to reality and say, fine, I move on with my life. I tell myself that I'll do exactly that if I don't get in this year, but I'm not entirely sure I belive myself. After 3 years and several thousand dollars, you'd think that I would learn to cut my losses. Maybe I just really wasn't meant to be a doctor. But for now I maintain hope.
Hope. I have plenty of songs for hope. And for now, that's all I need. That and the rest of those chocolate-covered coffee beans.
Mood: You figure it out. "Tired yet optimistic" is the closest I can come.
Songs: Dozens. Right now, a classical piece to put me to sleep.
Tuesday, September 07, 2004
Weekend Update
I had a friend from Stanford visit me in DC this weekend. Fun times.
Unfortunately, I also had some apartment problems. To make a long story short, my landlord thinks that a cold water distribution line under my floor has a small crack in it. Whatever the cause, a large section of the carpet is now consistently damp (raising the possibility of mildew) and the floorboards in my living area have begun to warp and buckle. Wonderful. So my landlord instructed me to move my nearby furniture -- namely, my desk and queen bed -- to "some other location." Uh huh. Piece of cake. I followed those intstructions, though, and now the apartment complex maintenance crew is currently ripping up the carpet to see what's wrong.
Unfortunately, I also had some apartment problems. To make a long story short, my landlord thinks that a cold water distribution line under my floor has a small crack in it. Whatever the cause, a large section of the carpet is now consistently damp (raising the possibility of mildew) and the floorboards in my living area have begun to warp and buckle. Wonderful. So my landlord instructed me to move my nearby furniture -- namely, my desk and queen bed -- to "some other location." Uh huh. Piece of cake. I followed those intstructions, though, and now the apartment complex maintenance crew is currently ripping up the carpet to see what's wrong.
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