I ate two omelets today. One for breakfast and one for dinner. Missy left this morning and needed to (obliged me by doing so) use up some food that was left in her fridge. So she made omelets with tomato, mozzarella, and avocado. I'll get back to avocado in a minute. But these were egg-white omelets which I'd never had before. I didn't realize that making an egg white omelet requires a lot more work, what with making sure none of the delicious part of the egg is involved. I don't actually have a problem with the end result, it was good, but I don't understand the concept. It's healthier, right? But how? You are eating something a chicken pooped out. Just go with it.
My second omelet was for dinner because I wanted to get rid of eggs and didn't have the patience to boil water for pasta or rice. That's actually a common problem for me. When I decide it's dinner time I want to eat now, or at least within the next twenty minutes. I don't want to wait. And somehow I never learn to preempt my hunger and start cooking early. You can't teach a lazy boy new tricks.
Avocado. I like it, I really do. I like it in guacamole, I like it in salads, I even like it on hamburgers. But I'm pretty convinced that avocado doesn't actually taste very good. Not that it tastes bad, it just doesn't taste much at all. Is that just me? I think the appeal of avocado is the texture more than the taste. Could just be the avocado I had today...but I'm pretty sure I'm right about this one.
Here's a food that's not great: eggplant.
Here's a food that is great: cheese.
Here's a really good combination of food: Latin and Asian. I got taken to a Latin/Asian fusion restaurant in China Town yesterday. The fact that the meal was free probably made it taste even better; and I really appreciated being taken out. My friend's parents moved her little brother into college in DC this weekend. I guess he realized that his friends are a lot cooler than his parents and he'd rather drink with them than go out with his family. That must have been a tough decision. So they had an extra seat on their reservation and I was invited. Sweet! Thai chicken empanadas - good. Peking duck tacos - also very good. Sushi with jalapeno oil sauce - beyond very good. It's not every day you see those menu offerings. Or you see a drink list that specializes in both tequila and sake. I'm just imagining all of the absolutely disgusting drinks that are possible in that scenario.
There was a synagogue that we walked by in Chinatown. Apparently it is really old. Six Asians were loitering on the steps outside of it. I thought I had stepped into the beginning of a joke, but I hadn't, it was just Chinatown. Next I want to see if I can find a Jewish-Asian restaurant. What would they serve? Teriyaki gefilte fish? Kung-pao latkes?
To finish up the food theme, the Food Network has my full endorsement. It is a beautiful thing that I can watch an hour about how different candies are produced. Reese's peanut butter cups, I know your secrets!
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Saturday, August 29, 2009
TGIF
Friday was incredibly welcome. I feel like the first week of law school lasted a month. There was a lot of acclimation involved, a process which still has a way to go, and there was a lot of reading involved. I actually think that I read faster now than I did on Monday. And I certainly can read and understand court opinions much better.
With one week's hindsight of law school I can say that I have made progress going to new schools. A story my mother likes to tell me is about how I was really afraid to go to kindergarten. And one of the reasons for that is I didn't know if they would have bathrooms I could use or not. That's kind of a weird thing for a four-year-old to be worried about, but it happened. Turns out they did have bathrooms. Phew. As far as I remember I was miserable in kindergarten. I had chicken pox (which is now cured..what the hell?) for the first two weeks and had to be held out of school, so when I finally got to class everyone already knew each other and had friends. Let me tell you, that sucked. I think I sat on a bean-bag chair and cried for a few weeks. Times were rough.At least my trepidations have more substantial bases now. And I'm not worried about the restroom facilities.
In the middle of the week I took a much needed social break and went out for a little with some classmates who I had hung out with at the Nationals game the previous week. It was a nice way to stay together. As we were heading towards the restaurant this girl (she's 27...can I say girl? woman? is that weird?) turns to me and says, "Will, you really are a Masshole," with a big smile. I smiled back and said "Thank you," and the sentiment was profound. She enjoyed by Masshole-ish-ness because, as she explained, she had a roommate that she liked who was a Masshole as well. Another guy we were with had never heard the term and wanted an explanation. I think she put it well to him: "He just kind of says whatever is on his mind. Sometimes it comes off as very blunt and kind of mean, but it's not really meant to be." I am proud to be a Masshole and I am glad that others can spot it. Now I want to take my "cah" to the "packie" in "Hahvahd yahd." At least I haven't gotten called out for using 'wicked' as an adverb yet.
With one week's hindsight of law school I can say that I have made progress going to new schools. A story my mother likes to tell me is about how I was really afraid to go to kindergarten. And one of the reasons for that is I didn't know if they would have bathrooms I could use or not. That's kind of a weird thing for a four-year-old to be worried about, but it happened. Turns out they did have bathrooms. Phew. As far as I remember I was miserable in kindergarten. I had chicken pox (which is now cured..what the hell?) for the first two weeks and had to be held out of school, so when I finally got to class everyone already knew each other and had friends. Let me tell you, that sucked. I think I sat on a bean-bag chair and cried for a few weeks. Times were rough.At least my trepidations have more substantial bases now. And I'm not worried about the restroom facilities.
In the middle of the week I took a much needed social break and went out for a little with some classmates who I had hung out with at the Nationals game the previous week. It was a nice way to stay together. As we were heading towards the restaurant this girl (she's 27...can I say girl? woman? is that weird?) turns to me and says, "Will, you really are a Masshole," with a big smile. I smiled back and said "Thank you," and the sentiment was profound. She enjoyed by Masshole-ish-ness because, as she explained, she had a roommate that she liked who was a Masshole as well. Another guy we were with had never heard the term and wanted an explanation. I think she put it well to him: "He just kind of says whatever is on his mind. Sometimes it comes off as very blunt and kind of mean, but it's not really meant to be." I am proud to be a Masshole and I am glad that others can spot it. Now I want to take my "cah" to the "packie" in "Hahvahd yahd." At least I haven't gotten called out for using 'wicked' as an adverb yet.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
And you wear a bow tie?!
Do you remember watching that clip of John Stewart go on CNN's Crossfire about a month before it got taken off the air? It's a great clip...I guess it's more like half an episode of Crossfire than a clip since it's pretty long, but it's still fantastic. I hope I'm not spoiling anything here, but at some point Tucker Carlson, the host from the conservative side, is harassing John Stewart a little too much, and John Stewart says "How old are you?" "Thirty-five," answers Tucker. John Stewart shoots back, "And you wear a bow tie?"
That pretty much is my torts professor. The first time he walked into class I could help but think of that reference. He looks like an overgrown five year old-he has a bowl cut and I doubt he's ever grown facial hair in his life. He was wearing a bow tie (a feat which he repeated today in class). And, of course, he leans towards the conservative side. Wow. It's a good thing he's an interesting and engaging lecturer, otherwise I really couldn't take him seriously. Also tort is a silly word. And for those of you wondering what a tort is, I am too. But Black's Law Dictionary defines it as "A civil wrong, other than breach of contract, for which a rememdy may be obtained, usu. in the form of damages; a breach of a duty that the law imposes on persons who stand in a particular relation to one another." That really helped clear it up, huh?
While sitting in my torts classroom I accidentaly formulated a new position on gun control. (Gun control has nothing to do with torts by the way.) I think that all guns must be painted neon pink. This would make it easier to see when someone had a gun; it would make guns more difficult to conceal or to be carried discretely. I like to think that it would also cut down on gang violence. I don't think that a lot of gangs would think it was awesome to carry around neon pink gats with which to 'pop a cap.' They would probably have to resort back to another weapon, like knives or bows and arrows, which are far less lethal. Maybe we could resort to some good old fashioned quarter staff fighting.
Poor Ted Kennedy. He died, by the way. I think the only way you could have not known that by now is if you, yourself, are also dead. I love the Kennedy family. Killing that girl and all, I am proud to have voted for Teddy. He was an institution and he was a liberal lion. Hopefully he was not the last of his kind. But I can't think of anyone capable of filling even half his shoes at the moment. I wonder who Deval Patrick will appoint. I hope it's you. And that you have Massachusetts residency and meet the age requirement for US Senators (which is 30 if you were wondering). It's a cushy job from what I hear. At least 6 years of job security, a staff, no real obligation to show up for anything, and great health care. I hear they don't even care about preexisting conditions when lining up that health insurance. Sounds like a good gig, right? I think there are millions of Americans who could do a lot worse, if only for the health benefits. And the staff. You gotta have a staff. I'd try to recruit Anderson Cooper to be my press secretary. That man is fun to watch. He has honest eyes.
Limp Bizkit covered "Behind Blue Eyes" by the Who, right? And the cover was awful right? I think these are both facts, but I'm just checking.
Oh, and the Johnny Cash song "Hurt" which everyone loved so much...that's a Nine Inch Nails cover. If you already knew that I apologize, but you would be shocked by the amount of people who are ignorant to that fact. Yup, Hurt is track 14 on The Downward Spiral album.
That pretty much is my torts professor. The first time he walked into class I could help but think of that reference. He looks like an overgrown five year old-he has a bowl cut and I doubt he's ever grown facial hair in his life. He was wearing a bow tie (a feat which he repeated today in class). And, of course, he leans towards the conservative side. Wow. It's a good thing he's an interesting and engaging lecturer, otherwise I really couldn't take him seriously. Also tort is a silly word. And for those of you wondering what a tort is, I am too. But Black's Law Dictionary defines it as "A civil wrong, other than breach of contract, for which a rememdy may be obtained, usu. in the form of damages; a breach of a duty that the law imposes on persons who stand in a particular relation to one another." That really helped clear it up, huh?
While sitting in my torts classroom I accidentaly formulated a new position on gun control. (Gun control has nothing to do with torts by the way.) I think that all guns must be painted neon pink. This would make it easier to see when someone had a gun; it would make guns more difficult to conceal or to be carried discretely. I like to think that it would also cut down on gang violence. I don't think that a lot of gangs would think it was awesome to carry around neon pink gats with which to 'pop a cap.' They would probably have to resort back to another weapon, like knives or bows and arrows, which are far less lethal. Maybe we could resort to some good old fashioned quarter staff fighting.
Poor Ted Kennedy. He died, by the way. I think the only way you could have not known that by now is if you, yourself, are also dead. I love the Kennedy family. Killing that girl and all, I am proud to have voted for Teddy. He was an institution and he was a liberal lion. Hopefully he was not the last of his kind. But I can't think of anyone capable of filling even half his shoes at the moment. I wonder who Deval Patrick will appoint. I hope it's you. And that you have Massachusetts residency and meet the age requirement for US Senators (which is 30 if you were wondering). It's a cushy job from what I hear. At least 6 years of job security, a staff, no real obligation to show up for anything, and great health care. I hear they don't even care about preexisting conditions when lining up that health insurance. Sounds like a good gig, right? I think there are millions of Americans who could do a lot worse, if only for the health benefits. And the staff. You gotta have a staff. I'd try to recruit Anderson Cooper to be my press secretary. That man is fun to watch. He has honest eyes.
Limp Bizkit covered "Behind Blue Eyes" by the Who, right? And the cover was awful right? I think these are both facts, but I'm just checking.
Oh, and the Johnny Cash song "Hurt" which everyone loved so much...that's a Nine Inch Nails cover. If you already knew that I apologize, but you would be shocked by the amount of people who are ignorant to that fact. Yup, Hurt is track 14 on The Downward Spiral album.
Where's the beef?
At Nationals Stadium if you want to eat a hot dog you have two options. Option 1: The Nats Dog. Option 2: 100% Beef Hot dog. Option 1 sounded a lot better before you heard about option 2, right? Because if the alternative is a 100% beef hot dog, you are left asking what exactly is in the Nats Dog if it is not all beef. Is there beef at all? You might think that the Nats dog is some kind of hot dog with specialty condiments, perhaps a chili dog. But you'd be wrong. It's not that. That's why the Nats Dog costs $1 less than a 100% beef hot dog. Not that I know what a Nats Dog is, I'm just assuming it's not something better for less money. Last time I checked that's not how it works. I think it's a great scheme to make you spend the extra dollar. If I'm the marketing guy I'd probably just package the same hot dog differently and charge a dollar extra for one. Not being guaranteed 100% beef in your food is a real incentive not to eat it.
What I've learned in law school after 3 days: you can pretty much sue anyone for anything. I love America. But I'm afraid I'll get sued for saying that.
So the opposite of fair is unfair. We can all agree on that. So if you negate the opposite, you should just get the original. That's how logic works. But it doesn't actually. "Not unfair" does not equal "fair." That's fucked up. The complaint, I think, is just the philosophy major coming out in me. If you eat my apple that I was going to have for lunch, I might punch you in the arm. That was my goddamn lunch man, why the hell would you do that? Plus I paid for that. Bring your own lunch next time. So it's not unfair that I hit you. You deserved a punishment. But it's not fair that I hit you either; you just ate my apple, I didn't need to leave you a bruise. And you will bruise. I punch pretty hard. Check out these guns. So my action is either both fair and unfair, or somewhere in the nether world in between. I don't care who you are, that's weird.
The fact that I was a philosophy major actually helped me today. I think it might be the last time ever. My Criminal Law professor is discussing the justifications for punishment. He says, "We have lots of political science majors here, but not many philosophy majors," and then calls on me because I was one of the few, the proud, the philosophers. He asked me what Thomas Hobbes says life looks like outside the social contract. Anyone who has read Hobbes, heard about Hobbes, knows anything about Hobbes, etc. knows the answer is "nasty, brutish, and short." It's philosophy 101. Not to mention that Leviathan, the book it comes from, was a core text of my senior thesis. So I'm thinking "Money!!!" and I answer. The professor tells me I am correct and moves on. So some of my classmates think I'm a goddamn genius, when really all I did was tell them something equivalent to the fact that Eli Whitney invented the cotton gin. Bam, I'm awesome. Okay, maybe I know that it wasn't a difficult question at all, but I'm still awesome, so I'm going to let people go on and think that for a while.
I am not awesome enough, however, to work out at 6am. That's an ungodly hour which should never be seen. And I will stick to that idea no matter how much my friend, a six-year veteran of the Army, encourages me to work out with him at that time. 6am was my first complaint. My second is working out with someone from the Army. When did that seem like a good idea? Never. Oh, right. So working out at 6am with a retired Army captain won't be happening this, or any other, year. Sounds good.
Also, thanks for reading. It'd be great if you subscribed to the blog! Feel free to comment. In fact, I'd even encourage it! I'll write back. It's not like I have anything else to do.
What I've learned in law school after 3 days: you can pretty much sue anyone for anything. I love America. But I'm afraid I'll get sued for saying that.
So the opposite of fair is unfair. We can all agree on that. So if you negate the opposite, you should just get the original. That's how logic works. But it doesn't actually. "Not unfair" does not equal "fair." That's fucked up. The complaint, I think, is just the philosophy major coming out in me. If you eat my apple that I was going to have for lunch, I might punch you in the arm. That was my goddamn lunch man, why the hell would you do that? Plus I paid for that. Bring your own lunch next time. So it's not unfair that I hit you. You deserved a punishment. But it's not fair that I hit you either; you just ate my apple, I didn't need to leave you a bruise. And you will bruise. I punch pretty hard. Check out these guns. So my action is either both fair and unfair, or somewhere in the nether world in between. I don't care who you are, that's weird.
The fact that I was a philosophy major actually helped me today. I think it might be the last time ever. My Criminal Law professor is discussing the justifications for punishment. He says, "We have lots of political science majors here, but not many philosophy majors," and then calls on me because I was one of the few, the proud, the philosophers. He asked me what Thomas Hobbes says life looks like outside the social contract. Anyone who has read Hobbes, heard about Hobbes, knows anything about Hobbes, etc. knows the answer is "nasty, brutish, and short." It's philosophy 101. Not to mention that Leviathan, the book it comes from, was a core text of my senior thesis. So I'm thinking "Money!!!" and I answer. The professor tells me I am correct and moves on. So some of my classmates think I'm a goddamn genius, when really all I did was tell them something equivalent to the fact that Eli Whitney invented the cotton gin. Bam, I'm awesome. Okay, maybe I know that it wasn't a difficult question at all, but I'm still awesome, so I'm going to let people go on and think that for a while.
I am not awesome enough, however, to work out at 6am. That's an ungodly hour which should never be seen. And I will stick to that idea no matter how much my friend, a six-year veteran of the Army, encourages me to work out with him at that time. 6am was my first complaint. My second is working out with someone from the Army. When did that seem like a good idea? Never. Oh, right. So working out at 6am with a retired Army captain won't be happening this, or any other, year. Sounds good.
Also, thanks for reading. It'd be great if you subscribed to the blog! Feel free to comment. In fact, I'd even encourage it! I'll write back. It's not like I have anything else to do.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
School's In
The first day of law school came and went. Which is good, because that's how days are supposed to go. If it went without ever coming then we would have a problem. I'm particularly happy about the day leaving. Because it was not the best day that ever happened. Nothing was specifically wrong with it per se, but I am not exactly having the easiest time settling into school, life in DC, not having all my friends here, etc. But that's alright, hopefully it will get better. If it doesn't then I will have to change this blog's title to Will's drop-out Law Blog, which isn't as catchy.
Law school is an awful lot like high school I can't help but notice. There are a bunch of similarities. One is that we have lockers. Luckily the 2L and 3L's aren't at school yet, so they can't shove me into the lockers until someone hears my cries for help. Another reason that probably won't happen is that the lockers could not possibly fit the volume of my body. I am far too big. I think these lockers could barely house a squirrel. Another reason law school is high school is that we have a zillion (read: 5) classes, sometimes half a zillion (read: 4) a day. Who does that? We also have the same people in every class. And homework for every class every night that you pretty much have to do. I feel like I'm regressing. Particularly because it takes me about an hour to do a 15 page homework assignment. But at least that's because it usually requires briefing cases and complex legal ideas, not because I'm an extraordinarily slow reader.
In true high school fashion, I present a math problem that is totally useless:
Law School = High School - (Jocks + Preps + Other Cliques) + (Vocational Training - Shop Class) + [(Paying attention in class) x (Teachers liking you)] - Gym.
Here's a thing that sucks: the school automatically takes an additional $50 from your tuition as a voluntary library fee and you have to specifically request that they not do it. That's not ok. They are relying on my laziness or lack of reading comprehension to take my $50 away from me. A fool and his money are soon parted. But I'm not a fool, at least not about this. This is a ridiculous policy. It's like if I come to your house and take smuggle out a trophy from your youth, like your security blanket, but I leave an unsigned note on your nightstand telling you I've done so and that I'll be happy to give it back to you pending your arrival at my front door. It's more than a little inconvenient to find out who I'm supposed to talk to, where financial aid is, wait in line, and present the letter showing your attempt to rip me off. The things I do for $50. But you would too...if you noticed they took it.
Law school is an awful lot like high school I can't help but notice. There are a bunch of similarities. One is that we have lockers. Luckily the 2L and 3L's aren't at school yet, so they can't shove me into the lockers until someone hears my cries for help. Another reason that probably won't happen is that the lockers could not possibly fit the volume of my body. I am far too big. I think these lockers could barely house a squirrel. Another reason law school is high school is that we have a zillion (read: 5) classes, sometimes half a zillion (read: 4) a day. Who does that? We also have the same people in every class. And homework for every class every night that you pretty much have to do. I feel like I'm regressing. Particularly because it takes me about an hour to do a 15 page homework assignment. But at least that's because it usually requires briefing cases and complex legal ideas, not because I'm an extraordinarily slow reader.
In true high school fashion, I present a math problem that is totally useless:
Law School = High School - (Jocks + Preps + Other Cliques) + (Vocational Training - Shop Class) + [(Paying attention in class) x (Teachers liking you)] - Gym.
Here's a thing that sucks: the school automatically takes an additional $50 from your tuition as a voluntary library fee and you have to specifically request that they not do it. That's not ok. They are relying on my laziness or lack of reading comprehension to take my $50 away from me. A fool and his money are soon parted. But I'm not a fool, at least not about this. This is a ridiculous policy. It's like if I come to your house and take smuggle out a trophy from your youth, like your security blanket, but I leave an unsigned note on your nightstand telling you I've done so and that I'll be happy to give it back to you pending your arrival at my front door. It's more than a little inconvenient to find out who I'm supposed to talk to, where financial aid is, wait in line, and present the letter showing your attempt to rip me off. The things I do for $50. But you would too...if you noticed they took it.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Black Mana
I know that it may be a tiresome subject to some, but I am here to reinforce the fact that Washington is built on a swamp. Thus the swamp gasses and other such swamp-sounding things conspire to bring about awful amounts of humidity in the city. I mean goddamn, I pretty much step outside and start sweating. I was warned before I came; and I do have central air in my apartment to keep the heat at bay, but eventually you have to walk around outside.
Walking around was particularly troublesome when going to the Nationals game. I went with a few new classmates to a bar before the game. My first happy hour! (The city is obsessed with happy hours. It loves them. DC:Happy Hours as Sam:Frodo if you want to get SAT about it.) It was nice spending some amount of time with a limited amount of people, rather than my entire law school class, and getting to know them. Instead of having "Well, I may never see this girl again so it doesn't matter whether her name was Eliza or Elisa," going though my head, I got the chance to say "Sorry, what was your name again?" and actually had the opportunity to meet people who can make some sort of impression on me.
We walked back from happy hour to the law school, and that's when my problem with the humidity started. Strolling a few blocks in the shade caused me to sweat like I had attempted to beat Ussain Bolt in a foot race. I was wearing a white shirt which doesn't make sweat too obvious, so I didn't look like I had been wading in armpit high water, but that didn't stop me from having to wipe my forehead every twenty seconds. Luckily we met up with a guy who also looked like he was about to pass out from heat exhaustion, so my perspiration wasn't questioned too much. By the end of the night I NEEDED a shower worse than I have in a while. I felt terrible for the lady standing next to me as I extended my arm to hold a rail on the metro. As far as I know she passed out from my odor but was propped up by other commuters because the train was too packed to move anywhere. I ended up showering and then going to a few bars and accidentally ordering a $12 drink. It was Jack Daniels on the rocks. If I had to do it all over again I would have showered and then ordered a $4 beer instead. What a waste of money.
But enough about the shortcomings of personal hygiene. I also was at a "baseball" game during this time. And I do mean a "baseball" game because it was a Nationals/Brewers game. Now the Brewers are moderately in wild card contention in the NL. They won't get to the postseason, but they are a decent ball club. The Nationals, my new adopted team, however, are in less than good shape. They may have just signed the #1 overall draft pick (for $15 million...the kid is 21...I feel unaccomplished), but they are not a joy to watch on the field. They have a nice stadium at least. I, and about 37 other people, can attest to that. I felt bad for the players who had to spend their time competing in front of such a small audience. It just seems like a waste of their time. The stadium sits over 40,000 people, and it was not even half full. It was a stark contrast to the smaller and much fuller Fenway Park where you can't even get a ticket without selling a fraction of your soul. Another contrast to Fenway was the fact that not everyone was wearing a Red Sox hat and no one was chanting "Yankees Suck." I couldn't understand it; it was weird. It was even more pathetic when it drizzled a bit during the game, causing half of the half-full stadium to leave, leaving a quarter-full stadium. I think at that point we can abandon the optimism in calling it half full and say it was mostly empty.
Other observations about the baseball game:
-I have never seen more teams that were not playing in the game represented through shirts and caps at the stadium (teams spotted included the Twins, White Sox, Yankees, and Red Sox, none of whom are even in the same league as the Nationals. Also the Mets, who are in the same division, but were certainly not participating in that game).
- I have never been more happy to have the seventh inning stretch.
- The "KissCam" is preposterous. It is awkward, heteronormative, and just plain creepy.
- Yankees Suck
- There are a lot of ugly people in the world. And at Nationals Stadium. I loudly pointed this out to some of my new classmates who were apparently more kindhearted than me and I probably did not win friends with this observation.
- Linkin Park sucks and anyone who says otherwise is a dirty liar.
But my issues with the humidity did not end with my shower after the Nationals game. The next day I walked around the city with Shaked, Ron, Yael, Missy, and Rachel. It was quite nice to see them. But it might have been nicer if I owned an umbrella. During a delicious lunch in the American Injun Museum the humidity broke a bit and it started to rain heavily. (Quick note, I really wanted to try to barter with the people at the gift shop of the American Indian Museum.) After discovering there was no gambling in the Museum it was decided that we would go to the American History Museum (not for the gambling). But the rain was an issue. The Smithsonian was selling ponchos for $5 and umbrellas for $15. Both seemed like rip offs, particularly considering what Americans pay in taxes to the federal government to keep the museums open, so Yael and I decided to build our own ponchos out of plastic umbrella bags that are free. Turns out poncho making is best left to the professionals. By the time I made it to the American History Museum I was completely soaked and my feet were going for a dip in the swimming pool that was my shoes. I tried to dry off in the men's room using the hand dryer, but it turns out they are much better on hands than on my shorts. I had to learn about the American Presidents and see Dorothy's ruby slippers all wet.
If I wake up tomorrow with a cold, I'll know why. And I will blame this goddamn swamp. If I could sum my experiences with humidity in one word it would be air conditioning.
Walking around was particularly troublesome when going to the Nationals game. I went with a few new classmates to a bar before the game. My first happy hour! (The city is obsessed with happy hours. It loves them. DC:Happy Hours as Sam:Frodo if you want to get SAT about it.) It was nice spending some amount of time with a limited amount of people, rather than my entire law school class, and getting to know them. Instead of having "Well, I may never see this girl again so it doesn't matter whether her name was Eliza or Elisa," going though my head, I got the chance to say "Sorry, what was your name again?" and actually had the opportunity to meet people who can make some sort of impression on me.
We walked back from happy hour to the law school, and that's when my problem with the humidity started. Strolling a few blocks in the shade caused me to sweat like I had attempted to beat Ussain Bolt in a foot race. I was wearing a white shirt which doesn't make sweat too obvious, so I didn't look like I had been wading in armpit high water, but that didn't stop me from having to wipe my forehead every twenty seconds. Luckily we met up with a guy who also looked like he was about to pass out from heat exhaustion, so my perspiration wasn't questioned too much. By the end of the night I NEEDED a shower worse than I have in a while. I felt terrible for the lady standing next to me as I extended my arm to hold a rail on the metro. As far as I know she passed out from my odor but was propped up by other commuters because the train was too packed to move anywhere. I ended up showering and then going to a few bars and accidentally ordering a $12 drink. It was Jack Daniels on the rocks. If I had to do it all over again I would have showered and then ordered a $4 beer instead. What a waste of money.
But enough about the shortcomings of personal hygiene. I also was at a "baseball" game during this time. And I do mean a "baseball" game because it was a Nationals/Brewers game. Now the Brewers are moderately in wild card contention in the NL. They won't get to the postseason, but they are a decent ball club. The Nationals, my new adopted team, however, are in less than good shape. They may have just signed the #1 overall draft pick (for $15 million...the kid is 21...I feel unaccomplished), but they are not a joy to watch on the field. They have a nice stadium at least. I, and about 37 other people, can attest to that. I felt bad for the players who had to spend their time competing in front of such a small audience. It just seems like a waste of their time. The stadium sits over 40,000 people, and it was not even half full. It was a stark contrast to the smaller and much fuller Fenway Park where you can't even get a ticket without selling a fraction of your soul. Another contrast to Fenway was the fact that not everyone was wearing a Red Sox hat and no one was chanting "Yankees Suck." I couldn't understand it; it was weird. It was even more pathetic when it drizzled a bit during the game, causing half of the half-full stadium to leave, leaving a quarter-full stadium. I think at that point we can abandon the optimism in calling it half full and say it was mostly empty.
Other observations about the baseball game:
-I have never seen more teams that were not playing in the game represented through shirts and caps at the stadium (teams spotted included the Twins, White Sox, Yankees, and Red Sox, none of whom are even in the same league as the Nationals. Also the Mets, who are in the same division, but were certainly not participating in that game).
- I have never been more happy to have the seventh inning stretch.
- The "KissCam" is preposterous. It is awkward, heteronormative, and just plain creepy.
- Yankees Suck
- There are a lot of ugly people in the world. And at Nationals Stadium. I loudly pointed this out to some of my new classmates who were apparently more kindhearted than me and I probably did not win friends with this observation.
- Linkin Park sucks and anyone who says otherwise is a dirty liar.
But my issues with the humidity did not end with my shower after the Nationals game. The next day I walked around the city with Shaked, Ron, Yael, Missy, and Rachel. It was quite nice to see them. But it might have been nicer if I owned an umbrella. During a delicious lunch in the American Injun Museum the humidity broke a bit and it started to rain heavily. (Quick note, I really wanted to try to barter with the people at the gift shop of the American Indian Museum.) After discovering there was no gambling in the Museum it was decided that we would go to the American History Museum (not for the gambling). But the rain was an issue. The Smithsonian was selling ponchos for $5 and umbrellas for $15. Both seemed like rip offs, particularly considering what Americans pay in taxes to the federal government to keep the museums open, so Yael and I decided to build our own ponchos out of plastic umbrella bags that are free. Turns out poncho making is best left to the professionals. By the time I made it to the American History Museum I was completely soaked and my feet were going for a dip in the swimming pool that was my shoes. I tried to dry off in the men's room using the hand dryer, but it turns out they are much better on hands than on my shorts. I had to learn about the American Presidents and see Dorothy's ruby slippers all wet.
If I wake up tomorrow with a cold, I'll know why. And I will blame this goddamn swamp. If I could sum my experiences with humidity in one word it would be air conditioning.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Here's a good idea
The first night of law school orientation the entire class was invited out to a bar called Third Edition. It's a trendy bar in Georgetown with two levels, a live DJ, and an outside Tiki bar (apparently because of the palm trees and kayaks on the wall). I would have renamed this bar the Trade-off Bar. You either had to be inside where the air conditioning was blasting as much as the music was or outside where they were venting the hot air and simply standing was reason enough to perspire. Essentially it was a choice between being able to hear people while putting them off because of your sweat, or being nice and cool yet having to lean in and ask "What did you say?" every two sentences. It was not ideal for meeting our classmates.
Even less of a good idea was dancing. Everyone who was there (I think) was from school. So you would have thought that they would be smart enough not to even approach the dance floor where certain embarrassment was waiting for them. You certainly thought they would be smart enough not to dance in an incredibly risque manner with strangers, aka people who will see you in class next week. You were wrong. This happened. And people watched. And I can only hope that it was embarrassing for them. Of course it was a nice opportunity for the rest of us to lean on the bar and bond over how we were all glad we did not have poor enough judgement to grind with a stranger to a Pitbull song with the possibility of sitting next to them tomorrow.
I spent at least fifteen minutes talking about my disapproval with some people I had just met. I also spent a long time meeting people while sweating profusely at the Tiki bar. Turns out most people are older than me, yet they do not know more than me about what to expect at law school. I did feel slightly stigmatized for being so comparatively, but it's not exactly something I can help. Plus people said President Kennedy was too young when he became president, and look at him, he's...ummm dead. Oops.
Mostly people talked about law school rankings, LSAT's, where they were from, and where they were living currently. I'm sure I had the exact same conversation with about seven people. But I think that's the nature of orientations. We don't really have common experiences yet, so we just tell each other facts about ourselves hoping that will spark a conversation that is more interesting. So far most people I talk about college with either say "Oh, do you know _____?" which I inevitably do not, or they say "Never heard of it. Where's that?" They aren't the most interesting conversations I've ever had. I have tried to limit my who-do-you-know-from-college game playing with other people. So far I've only done it with one person and been slightly successful. And we actually had a fairly interesting conversation about things other than undergrad institutions and hometowns. So I'd call that a success.
As far as the people I have met go, very few people are completely awkward, which is a nice change from college. Of course it makes me guarded, because I certainly have the potential for awkwardness of large proportions. So I certainly haven't tried to make friends by asking people what Star Wars movie is the best and yelling at them until they agree it is Empire. I was talking with a guy named Matthew for a while and we exchanged concerned looks when some kid was yelling about how he had classes on Friday and was super pissed and a bunch of trivial other stuff that I don't remember because I didn't care. Hopefully I can at least get some sort of cynical mocking rapport going with some people. After all, it is one thing I am good at and used to. Bottom line so far: meeting new people kinda sucks and making new friends is a difficult, awkward process.
Even less of a good idea was dancing. Everyone who was there (I think) was from school. So you would have thought that they would be smart enough not to even approach the dance floor where certain embarrassment was waiting for them. You certainly thought they would be smart enough not to dance in an incredibly risque manner with strangers, aka people who will see you in class next week. You were wrong. This happened. And people watched. And I can only hope that it was embarrassing for them. Of course it was a nice opportunity for the rest of us to lean on the bar and bond over how we were all glad we did not have poor enough judgement to grind with a stranger to a Pitbull song with the possibility of sitting next to them tomorrow.
I spent at least fifteen minutes talking about my disapproval with some people I had just met. I also spent a long time meeting people while sweating profusely at the Tiki bar. Turns out most people are older than me, yet they do not know more than me about what to expect at law school. I did feel slightly stigmatized for being so comparatively, but it's not exactly something I can help. Plus people said President Kennedy was too young when he became president, and look at him, he's...ummm dead. Oops.
Mostly people talked about law school rankings, LSAT's, where they were from, and where they were living currently. I'm sure I had the exact same conversation with about seven people. But I think that's the nature of orientations. We don't really have common experiences yet, so we just tell each other facts about ourselves hoping that will spark a conversation that is more interesting. So far most people I talk about college with either say "Oh, do you know _____?" which I inevitably do not, or they say "Never heard of it. Where's that?" They aren't the most interesting conversations I've ever had. I have tried to limit my who-do-you-know-from-college game playing with other people. So far I've only done it with one person and been slightly successful. And we actually had a fairly interesting conversation about things other than undergrad institutions and hometowns. So I'd call that a success.
As far as the people I have met go, very few people are completely awkward, which is a nice change from college. Of course it makes me guarded, because I certainly have the potential for awkwardness of large proportions. So I certainly haven't tried to make friends by asking people what Star Wars movie is the best and yelling at them until they agree it is Empire. I was talking with a guy named Matthew for a while and we exchanged concerned looks when some kid was yelling about how he had classes on Friday and was super pissed and a bunch of trivial other stuff that I don't remember because I didn't care. Hopefully I can at least get some sort of cynical mocking rapport going with some people. After all, it is one thing I am good at and used to. Bottom line so far: meeting new people kinda sucks and making new friends is a difficult, awkward process.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)