Something I forgot from the weekend: On Friday night when Matt and I were coming home from the party we emerged from the Metro to the most beautiful sight ever-a 24 hour Krispy Kreme. Best invention ever when you are a little drunk at 2 am. But it got better. We went in, bought one donut each, and scarfed them down. Then we decided that another donut would not be out of order. So we both went back to order more donuts. I think she was charmed by Matt was winking at her (he was actually blinking back his dried up contact lens), but she just handed us the donuts and told us we were all set. What's the only thing better than drunk donuts? Free drunk donuts!
Forgive me if I have told you this already (Erika), but before Civ Pro started today I was talking with some of my classmates. We got onto the topic of the Dean's Fellow, a third year law student who teaches legal research, that a few of us have. I couldn't help but point out that she doesn't know how to pronounce the word "subsequently." She pronounces it by emphasizing the "e" sound so it sounds like sub-see-quently. Those of us who can speak properly know that you emphasize the "sub" syllable. This girl isn't foreign, she's from Maryland. She just doesn't know how to say subsequently. Yet she uses the word constantly. It really irks me and I always want to correct her. But she is essentially my teacher for a class and I don't really think it would be proper to interject with "Um, I'm pretty sure you are pronouncing that wrong." I am thinking about doing the passive-aggressive method where I just say subsequently in every sentence and I pronounce it correctly until she gets the hint. But that is pretty rude also. As it stands every time she says subsequently (read: every 15 seconds) I stop paying attention and look around to see if anyone else in the class thinks her mispronunciation is ridiculous. I hope that she gets a job in a big law firm, is talking to her boss, and says "subseequently." Her boss is going to look at her and think "Oh great, I just hired a retard." Maybe me correcting her will save her from this fate. Maybe it's funnier if I just let it happen. I'm probably just going to continue to be insanely distracted whenever she opens her mouth.
Subsequently, I went to my Contracts professor's office hours. We didn't really talk about anything particularly relevant to the class. I think I started him off with a question about contracts, but it evolved into a discussion about how lawyers don't write well anymore, how the Supreme Court is so politicized, and how baller Justice Brandeis was. Overall it went over a lot better than my discussion with my Torts professor. Of course this time I avoided telling him the subject he teaches is mostly bullshit, so that made life easier. Contracts is actually growing on me, and I think the professor likes me, so that's a definite plus.
Tonight I went to this frozen yogurt place with Anat and Felizia called Mr. Yogurto or something like that. The yogurt was pretty good, they offer a cornucopia of toppings, and they give discounts for trivia questions. I love trivia. And I won 10% off my next yogurt for answering this question: Name 5 countries that end in the letter "L." It took a little while, but I got them. I like the store, it's like challenge yogurt. They have other things you can do to get discounts. One of them was that you would get a free yogurt if you can stand in tip-toes on one foot with your eyes closed for 15 seconds. You can't do it, I promise you. I tried; I failed.
My chin up bar just came in the mail. Out of shape no more. I feel healthier already.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Why Michael? So you can fly away from your feelings?
Matt came to visit this weekend! It was quite exciting. We did a lot of things. Friday afternoon we went the the National Portrait Gallery. It's a crazy place. We saw, amongst other things, the presidential portraits. One of these things is not like the others can you guess which one it is? It's the portrait of George W. Bush. He is the only president whose official portrait does not have him looking at all dignified. George H.W. Bush, Clinton, etc. are all in suits, looking presidential. George W. Bush is sittin' on a sofa in a Western-style light blue shirt looking like he is about to tell hunting stories. He looks more like your Uncle Al than the 43rd President of the United States. I guess that's part of his "folksy" charm. How is he folksy? He went to Yale and Harvard, he's the son of a President and had everything in his life handed to him on a silver platter. I don't understand how that connects him with the common, hard-working American. Matt and I also managed to set off two alarms at the Portrait Gallery. Matt did it first. We were just walking down a hallway and there was a sculpture of an Indian (wah-wah) lying there. The Indian is holding a tomahawk which kind of juts out. Of course Matt walked next to the statue, a little too close to the tomahawk, and set off a loud alarm and jumped about 3 feet in the air. In addition he almost got scalped. The second alarm was my bad. I was looking at some modern "art" (in fairness I think it was a Rauschenberg). It was modern "art" so I clearly didn't understand it, and felt the need to take a closer peek at the little blurb about it. Turns out the security sensor didn't like that one either and it set an alarm off. Matt and I casually strolled away while a security guard (unarmed, no worries) checked out the situation. Things were fine.
That night we watched Arrested ("Here he comes. Here comes John Wayne...") and went to a party in Columbia Heights. It's a little bit of a sketchier area then the one I live in, but it went alright. I only thought we might get mugged once, so all things considered it wasn't a bad walk to the house from the Metro. The party contained an inverse ratio of awkwardness to beer drinking, which resulted in a pretty decent night. Then Saturday morning we went to the zoo. The best part about this zoo visit was the Bird House. One part of the Bird House is this fairly large, enclosed gazebo where a bunch of different birds roam (fly) free. We were looking at some low-energy birds when we heard an odd bird call. It was kind of a warbling sound that ended in a loud honk. And every time I heard the honk I couldn't help but laugh. It sounded like a clown nose or something. Matt and I went towards the noise, with me perpetually bursting into laughter, only to discover that this was not, in fact, all a bird call, rather the first part was a middle-aged woman warbling at a bird, provoking it to make this ridiculous honking sound. This woman was staring straight at the bird practically screaming at it. I'm laughing because of the ridiculous noise, and this woman's daughter (maybe thirty years old?) sees me and gets wicked embarrassed. I would too. Her mom is standing in the National Zoo provoking a honking peacock. She quickly dragged her mother away, but the peacock continued honking for a while and I continued laughing at it. The other animal that sent me into fits of hysterics was the iguana (still in the Bird House, oddly enough). It was just lying there smiling and opening its mouth. And it looked ridiculous. I couldn't get over it. But Matt can't say anything disparaging, the very first animal we saw he fell in love with-the sloth bear. Admittedly it was pretty awesome. He looked like a small bear (small for a bear that is) with an enormous head. Like a mascot costume-sized head. And he was sleeping, but he looked like he could have been dozing off in class. He was sitting upright doing that little nod thing you do before snapping your head up to make it look like you weren't asleep. Matt was in love. And of course people at the zoo were completely retarded again. This time "Look at the bear!!" They were looking at a tamarin monkey, which looks nothing like a bear. Seriously, google image search lion tamarin right now. Does that look like a bear to you? No. Why? Because you aren't a moron. Also, overheard at the lion cage: "There he is!!" (Said while looking at a lion without a mane, therefore clearly not a he.)
Later that day we saw a movie, "In the Loop," which was funny. Particularly if you enjoy watching angry British politicians push the bounds of curse words and insults to new levels. I know I enjoy that. We dined at a fancy Italian restaurant that did not necessarily live up to its fanciness. For one thing my gnocchi was bland and for another the waiter unsuccessfully tried to push dessert on us for twelve minutes. I'm generally not too snobbish-if it's food I'll eat it (unless it's mushrooms)-but this was not a class act.
Speaking of food, I want Friendly's.
Saturday night Matt and I went to Ballston (tee-hee) to watch an improv show. We were greeted by an energetic intern at the theater who insisted on using an terrible British accent the entire time. Even Matt wanted to punch him in the face. This is the guy who, in his improv classes, busts in with the "Agent Michael Scarn! Hands up!" type of shtick. Aside from him, the show was surprisingly good. The troupe was incredibly good at the gibberish guessing game they played. As per usual an audience member thought the funniest suggestion ever was dildo and almost fell off her chair laughing about it. Ha. Ha. Die in a fire. That night we were pretty tired and turned in early. Except that I was woken up at 4:30 in the goddamn morning by the loudest screaming fight I have ever heard in my life taking place right outside my window. I initially thought it was a dream. The only reason that I'm convinced it was not is because my roommate also woke up and we talked about it a few minutes before 5 am. Boy, it's times like that I am glad to be alive. Or not. But I think I was dreaming about Contracts, and I thought this fight was just a contract dispute. I don't actually know what it was about, but I do know that I probably should have called the police. I was actively trying not to listen, so that I could get back to sleep, but I think I heard "You hit me with your stiletto!" Bitches be crazy. Eventually the screaming stopped and I went back to sleep, only to be awoken later (I can't remember if it was 5 or 7 am) by someone's goddamn car stereo playing salsa music INCREDIBLY LOUDLY while at a red light. At least I'm assuming that's what this was, because if it was a traffic light then it was the red light of eternity. Seriously, I think I heard the same stupid song three times before the music died out. I was less than pleased, and that was less than the best night of sleep I have ever had.
Today Matt and I walked to the White House. Boy, it would be cool to work there. Maybe Deputy Chief of Staff? I'd do it. Fantasy world aside, on the Ellipse there were a few hundred Chinese people celebrating something. I have absolutely no idea what though. All I know is there were a lot of people in red shirts with Chinese lettering running around, singing songs, and raising both the Chinese flag and the American flag. I asked Matt, but apparently I was way off in thinking it was Chinese New Year. Like to the point where my ignorance in asking that question may have been slightly offensive. Oh well. So happy Chinese-America Day everyone. Because that's all I could surmise from the celebration. Then, after some pasta lunch, Matt took off to go back home. I miss him, but he's in a better place now. Chicago. After that it's just been work and television for me. I probably forgot some things about the weekend which will pop up later. Oh well. And now off to another week of law school. Whoop-dee-do-da.
That night we watched Arrested ("Here he comes. Here comes John Wayne...") and went to a party in Columbia Heights. It's a little bit of a sketchier area then the one I live in, but it went alright. I only thought we might get mugged once, so all things considered it wasn't a bad walk to the house from the Metro. The party contained an inverse ratio of awkwardness to beer drinking, which resulted in a pretty decent night. Then Saturday morning we went to the zoo. The best part about this zoo visit was the Bird House. One part of the Bird House is this fairly large, enclosed gazebo where a bunch of different birds roam (fly) free. We were looking at some low-energy birds when we heard an odd bird call. It was kind of a warbling sound that ended in a loud honk. And every time I heard the honk I couldn't help but laugh. It sounded like a clown nose or something. Matt and I went towards the noise, with me perpetually bursting into laughter, only to discover that this was not, in fact, all a bird call, rather the first part was a middle-aged woman warbling at a bird, provoking it to make this ridiculous honking sound. This woman was staring straight at the bird practically screaming at it. I'm laughing because of the ridiculous noise, and this woman's daughter (maybe thirty years old?) sees me and gets wicked embarrassed. I would too. Her mom is standing in the National Zoo provoking a honking peacock. She quickly dragged her mother away, but the peacock continued honking for a while and I continued laughing at it. The other animal that sent me into fits of hysterics was the iguana (still in the Bird House, oddly enough). It was just lying there smiling and opening its mouth. And it looked ridiculous. I couldn't get over it. But Matt can't say anything disparaging, the very first animal we saw he fell in love with-the sloth bear. Admittedly it was pretty awesome. He looked like a small bear (small for a bear that is) with an enormous head. Like a mascot costume-sized head. And he was sleeping, but he looked like he could have been dozing off in class. He was sitting upright doing that little nod thing you do before snapping your head up to make it look like you weren't asleep. Matt was in love. And of course people at the zoo were completely retarded again. This time "Look at the bear!!" They were looking at a tamarin monkey, which looks nothing like a bear. Seriously, google image search lion tamarin right now. Does that look like a bear to you? No. Why? Because you aren't a moron. Also, overheard at the lion cage: "There he is!!" (Said while looking at a lion without a mane, therefore clearly not a he.)
Later that day we saw a movie, "In the Loop," which was funny. Particularly if you enjoy watching angry British politicians push the bounds of curse words and insults to new levels. I know I enjoy that. We dined at a fancy Italian restaurant that did not necessarily live up to its fanciness. For one thing my gnocchi was bland and for another the waiter unsuccessfully tried to push dessert on us for twelve minutes. I'm generally not too snobbish-if it's food I'll eat it (unless it's mushrooms)-but this was not a class act.
Speaking of food, I want Friendly's.
Saturday night Matt and I went to Ballston (tee-hee) to watch an improv show. We were greeted by an energetic intern at the theater who insisted on using an terrible British accent the entire time. Even Matt wanted to punch him in the face. This is the guy who, in his improv classes, busts in with the "Agent Michael Scarn! Hands up!" type of shtick. Aside from him, the show was surprisingly good. The troupe was incredibly good at the gibberish guessing game they played. As per usual an audience member thought the funniest suggestion ever was dildo and almost fell off her chair laughing about it. Ha. Ha. Die in a fire. That night we were pretty tired and turned in early. Except that I was woken up at 4:30 in the goddamn morning by the loudest screaming fight I have ever heard in my life taking place right outside my window. I initially thought it was a dream. The only reason that I'm convinced it was not is because my roommate also woke up and we talked about it a few minutes before 5 am. Boy, it's times like that I am glad to be alive. Or not. But I think I was dreaming about Contracts, and I thought this fight was just a contract dispute. I don't actually know what it was about, but I do know that I probably should have called the police. I was actively trying not to listen, so that I could get back to sleep, but I think I heard "You hit me with your stiletto!" Bitches be crazy. Eventually the screaming stopped and I went back to sleep, only to be awoken later (I can't remember if it was 5 or 7 am) by someone's goddamn car stereo playing salsa music INCREDIBLY LOUDLY while at a red light. At least I'm assuming that's what this was, because if it was a traffic light then it was the red light of eternity. Seriously, I think I heard the same stupid song three times before the music died out. I was less than pleased, and that was less than the best night of sleep I have ever had.
Today Matt and I walked to the White House. Boy, it would be cool to work there. Maybe Deputy Chief of Staff? I'd do it. Fantasy world aside, on the Ellipse there were a few hundred Chinese people celebrating something. I have absolutely no idea what though. All I know is there were a lot of people in red shirts with Chinese lettering running around, singing songs, and raising both the Chinese flag and the American flag. I asked Matt, but apparently I was way off in thinking it was Chinese New Year. Like to the point where my ignorance in asking that question may have been slightly offensive. Oh well. So happy Chinese-America Day everyone. Because that's all I could surmise from the celebration. Then, after some pasta lunch, Matt took off to go back home. I miss him, but he's in a better place now. Chicago. After that it's just been work and television for me. I probably forgot some things about the weekend which will pop up later. Oh well. And now off to another week of law school. Whoop-dee-do-da.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Movie clips
There is something to be said for using movie clips in class. It's a fun way to learn. But I think the last time I remember using a movie clip in class for a legitimate reason was in high school. And the word legitimate is pushing it. Yet my Criminal Law professor effectively used movie clips to help us learn. Another way law school = high school. We are learning about homicide. We watched about five minutes of Goodfellas, during which three homicides or potential homicides took place. That's pretty light for that particular movie. My professor asked us to use the fact patterns from the clips to determine whether they should be charged for murder or manslaughter and what degree they should be charged with. We all had a good time convicting movie stars of murder and arguing about premeditation, malice aforethought and all types of Law and Order words. The entire time we had two potential students sitting in on class. They must have been thinking "This is awesome!" I would love for them to sit in on a Contracts class and hear their inner monologue after that. Probably more along the lines of "I wonder if I would be enjoying life more at the moment if I stabbed myself in the hand with a pen."
Today I went to my Torts professor's office hours. He talked to me about how he found a mistake in the transcription of one of Thomas Jefferson's letters which changed the meaning, and that this particular sentece was important in the history of patent law. Hey man, whatever gets your going in the morning. I just went to talk with him in general about torts, but somehow it came out that I disagree with about 60% of the decisions we read. He was astounded. I probably shouldn't have said that. He's probably not prone to liking me as it is (read: he clerked for Justices Scalia and Kennedy (read: he's a huge conservative)) (yeah I just used double parentheses, what of it??), and the fact that I just told him the subject he teaches is about 60% full of crap is not likely to endear me to him any further. I hope he's the kind of teacher who doesn't care about your opinion as long as you can back it up well. Because I'm going to write that almost no one is liable for anything ever. I look at torts as the area of law where people who can't take responsibilty for themselves gain a legal advantage. Though there are some cool cases-take a defense of property case we read for today. This guy knows that people have been breaking into a house he owns where he just stores things. So he sets up a shotgun trap at leg level so anyone who opens the door will get shot in the legs. Sure enough a burglar comes in and gets shot in the knees. He gets a $50 fine and probation or something like that for burglary, and he sues the owner of the house and gets $35,ooo in damages for battery. When asked to comment on the outcome the owner said "Next time I'll aim it higher."
Today I went to my Torts professor's office hours. He talked to me about how he found a mistake in the transcription of one of Thomas Jefferson's letters which changed the meaning, and that this particular sentece was important in the history of patent law. Hey man, whatever gets your going in the morning. I just went to talk with him in general about torts, but somehow it came out that I disagree with about 60% of the decisions we read. He was astounded. I probably shouldn't have said that. He's probably not prone to liking me as it is (read: he clerked for Justices Scalia and Kennedy (read: he's a huge conservative)) (yeah I just used double parentheses, what of it??), and the fact that I just told him the subject he teaches is about 60% full of crap is not likely to endear me to him any further. I hope he's the kind of teacher who doesn't care about your opinion as long as you can back it up well. Because I'm going to write that almost no one is liable for anything ever. I look at torts as the area of law where people who can't take responsibilty for themselves gain a legal advantage. Though there are some cool cases-take a defense of property case we read for today. This guy knows that people have been breaking into a house he owns where he just stores things. So he sets up a shotgun trap at leg level so anyone who opens the door will get shot in the legs. Sure enough a burglar comes in and gets shot in the knees. He gets a $50 fine and probation or something like that for burglary, and he sues the owner of the house and gets $35,ooo in damages for battery. When asked to comment on the outcome the owner said "Next time I'll aim it higher."
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Synagogue, stupid
Today in Contracts we were discussing a case about a man who promises his rabbi to give his synagogue $25,000. It's a case about promissory estoppel in the case of gifts and charities. If you don't know what that means, don't worry, neither does half my class. The details of the case aren't relevant except what I already said. The student who was called on to discuss the case talked about the "church" that the donation was supposed to go to. My professor responded, using the word "synagogue," because, after all, the case is about a synagogue. When asked another question the student said church again, and again the professor used synagogue. It was kind of weird. At lunch I talked with someone else in the class who brought this up and said that he thought it was sort of anti-Semitic. While I'm not sure it was actually anti-Semitic, I thought it was odd, and certainly had some odd undertones. I don't want to be oversensitive and throw out allegations of prejudice all willy-nilly. But something was off. I'm not saying this kid was definitely anti-Semitic, I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. He could just be stupid. I was going to say he could also be incredibly ignorant, but even an ignorant non-stupid person would pick up that he should be saying "synagogue" through context clues slash when the professor repeats the word numerous times and the case you read says it and the word "church" is nowhere to be found. So I have at least one bigot or one moron in my class. I'm not sure which I'm hoping he is. Probably stupid.
Gunner update that I forgot from yesterday: We were talking about sports torts in relation to Serena Williams...so basically trash talking. Gunner raises his hand and says, "When I played high school football trash talking was pretty regular. We'd all line up and say things to the other people, like I'm gonna...hurt you..." 99% of the people in the room (including the professor I'm pretty sure) rolled their eyes after the first six words and tuned out. It should also be noted that Gunner is probably 5'5", 145 pounds, and generally not in incredible shape. And if he lined up against any regular sized football lineman, even in high school, would get absolutely wrecked. He's also a Mormon, which leads me to believe any trash talking he may have participated in was ridiculous: "You haven't baptized your ancestors so you won't be able to be with them in heaven...chump." (Note: that's a real thing that Mormons think minus the chump comment. I'm not making it up as a ridiculous example.) His story is thrown into even more doubt because I was told that he was home schooled. So he might have been trash talking his mom in that high school football game.
Today I reached that point in the week where I was not going to do any more work. In fact, I did not want to sit in class anymore. This happened 15 minutes before the end of my last, and forth, class today. I started shaking my leg and wigging out. The seconds dragged by. The dean's fellow droned on. I checked my email 15 times in 4 minutes. One time I actually got something! It was awful. Particularly since I'm used to this happening on Thursday evening, not Wednesday afternoon. Bad news man. I hope next week it doesn't move up to Tuesday. Then we'll really have problems.
Gunner update that I forgot from yesterday: We were talking about sports torts in relation to Serena Williams...so basically trash talking. Gunner raises his hand and says, "When I played high school football trash talking was pretty regular. We'd all line up and say things to the other people, like I'm gonna...hurt you..." 99% of the people in the room (including the professor I'm pretty sure) rolled their eyes after the first six words and tuned out. It should also be noted that Gunner is probably 5'5", 145 pounds, and generally not in incredible shape. And if he lined up against any regular sized football lineman, even in high school, would get absolutely wrecked. He's also a Mormon, which leads me to believe any trash talking he may have participated in was ridiculous: "You haven't baptized your ancestors so you won't be able to be with them in heaven...chump." (Note: that's a real thing that Mormons think minus the chump comment. I'm not making it up as a ridiculous example.) His story is thrown into even more doubt because I was told that he was home schooled. So he might have been trash talking his mom in that high school football game.
Today I reached that point in the week where I was not going to do any more work. In fact, I did not want to sit in class anymore. This happened 15 minutes before the end of my last, and forth, class today. I started shaking my leg and wigging out. The seconds dragged by. The dean's fellow droned on. I checked my email 15 times in 4 minutes. One time I actually got something! It was awful. Particularly since I'm used to this happening on Thursday evening, not Wednesday afternoon. Bad news man. I hope next week it doesn't move up to Tuesday. Then we'll really have problems.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Make something up man
8:21 - I arrive at the classroom for Legal Writing
8:27 - My entire class is assembled
8:30 - Class officially begins
8:39 - My professor arrives
The first thing that happened on the first day of this class was that we were warned about the attendance policy and told that tardiness would not be tolerated. The message really lost it's force today. The professor (who is a lawyer from the DC area, not a real professor) explained that he was late "Because he had to choose between being on time and getting coffee." Everyone immediately looked from the 20 oz. coffee cup in his hand to the clock on the wall. Or at least I did. Thanks for the honesty. But as one of my classmates commented before our next class, "Make something up man. Tell us the metro was late or something." It's not the best feeling being told your time was less important than coffee. If you need your coffee that badly then wake your lazy ass up 9 minutes earlier. In the meantime, if I am ever late for that class I'm not taking crap from him about it. Also, thanks to this professor for stressing everyone in the class out. He constantly talks about working in a big firm (it's all he knows) and tells us that when we work in a firm it will be important to know how to do x. No pressure to go into a firm though. Jackass. It just makes everyone nervous that they don't know how to write the way we should, never mind the fact that we haven't been taught how to yet.
In Torts, we talking about causes of action in the athletic field, or as I deem it, sports torts. Our conversation mostly focused on Serena Williams' recent actions at the US Open. Did the line judge have a cause of action for assault? I say no; but there is an argument to be made for it. I realized today that I disagree with about 75% of the tort cases we read. People sue about stupid things that mostly result from them being incompetent. They need to take responsibility for themselves and quit whining when they are dumb or they do dumb things. Some 13 year old girl sued a 15 year old boy for injuries sustained during a game of kick the can. No joke. I had to read a court opinion that gave the basic rules of kick the can. Thankfully the court found against the girl and with good reason. If every backyard injury were actionable no one would ever play outside. We'd have generations of children who's exercise consisted of Wii Fit.
When I left school to walk home I walked passed about 7 sororities doing something inane on the quad. I'm not really sure what was going on, but each sorority was wearing matching t-shirts, shouting unintelligible cheers, and holding up Greek letters. They could have been recruiting, or having a dumb-looking-slut competition. I'm not quite sure. But I walked by wearing my Duke Lacrosse shirt and felt awkward.
Dinner was at a deli with Rachel, Gavi, and one of her friends. All four of us ordered pastrami on rye. Know why? Because we know what's up. If you order it on white bread you get kicked out of the restaurant. Though I don't appreciate being told that pastrami and corned beef are both "pickled meats." I don't want to think about anything being pickled, except pickles. While I'm not sure exactly what the process entails, it does not sound pleasant. In my imagination they just drop the pieces of meat into a gigantic pickle jar and fish it out a week later. Ew. Pickles are fine. Pickle juice is not a pleasant substance.
8:27 - My entire class is assembled
8:30 - Class officially begins
8:39 - My professor arrives
The first thing that happened on the first day of this class was that we were warned about the attendance policy and told that tardiness would not be tolerated. The message really lost it's force today. The professor (who is a lawyer from the DC area, not a real professor) explained that he was late "Because he had to choose between being on time and getting coffee." Everyone immediately looked from the 20 oz. coffee cup in his hand to the clock on the wall. Or at least I did. Thanks for the honesty. But as one of my classmates commented before our next class, "Make something up man. Tell us the metro was late or something." It's not the best feeling being told your time was less important than coffee. If you need your coffee that badly then wake your lazy ass up 9 minutes earlier. In the meantime, if I am ever late for that class I'm not taking crap from him about it. Also, thanks to this professor for stressing everyone in the class out. He constantly talks about working in a big firm (it's all he knows) and tells us that when we work in a firm it will be important to know how to do x. No pressure to go into a firm though. Jackass. It just makes everyone nervous that they don't know how to write the way we should, never mind the fact that we haven't been taught how to yet.
In Torts, we talking about causes of action in the athletic field, or as I deem it, sports torts. Our conversation mostly focused on Serena Williams' recent actions at the US Open. Did the line judge have a cause of action for assault? I say no; but there is an argument to be made for it. I realized today that I disagree with about 75% of the tort cases we read. People sue about stupid things that mostly result from them being incompetent. They need to take responsibility for themselves and quit whining when they are dumb or they do dumb things. Some 13 year old girl sued a 15 year old boy for injuries sustained during a game of kick the can. No joke. I had to read a court opinion that gave the basic rules of kick the can. Thankfully the court found against the girl and with good reason. If every backyard injury were actionable no one would ever play outside. We'd have generations of children who's exercise consisted of Wii Fit.
When I left school to walk home I walked passed about 7 sororities doing something inane on the quad. I'm not really sure what was going on, but each sorority was wearing matching t-shirts, shouting unintelligible cheers, and holding up Greek letters. They could have been recruiting, or having a dumb-looking-slut competition. I'm not quite sure. But I walked by wearing my Duke Lacrosse shirt and felt awkward.
Dinner was at a deli with Rachel, Gavi, and one of her friends. All four of us ordered pastrami on rye. Know why? Because we know what's up. If you order it on white bread you get kicked out of the restaurant. Though I don't appreciate being told that pastrami and corned beef are both "pickled meats." I don't want to think about anything being pickled, except pickles. While I'm not sure exactly what the process entails, it does not sound pleasant. In my imagination they just drop the pieces of meat into a gigantic pickle jar and fish it out a week later. Ew. Pickles are fine. Pickle juice is not a pleasant substance.
Monday, September 14, 2009
I am currently wet
I am brilliant. I just refilled the Brita, and then, without waiting for the water to filter, attempted to pour a glass of water for myself. All I wanted to do was quench my thirst, but I ended up spilling water all over the kitchen and myself. That's when I know to call it a day. I closed my Criminal Law book, utilized the paper towels, and retired to my room.
At least this Monday was better. Much better. Though still not fantastic. But relative to all recent Mondays it was good, so I'm cautiously optimistic. Even though the first thing I did today was irksome: calling an automated answering service. I had to talk to Bank of America about some crap they pulled on me. And I haven't had time during regular business hours recently, so I called this morning a little before 9. Yes, a little before 9 is when I wake up; most days it is 8:30 (except tomorrow when it's an hour earlier). That's wicked early for people still in college, and wicked late for people who have regular jobs. Clearly I am in grad school. Everyone hates "If you have a question regarding your account, please press 1. If you have a question regarding your credit card, please press 2. If you have a question about how to defraud the public and receive billions of dollars of taxpayer money, please hold for the CEO..." and so forth. But Bank of America is so much worse at least for 9 in the morning. Not only did I have to press numbers, I also had to speak to the automated voice in order to affirm that the number I just pressed was in fact the one I meant to press. The result of this system was that my first words of the morning/week (weeks start on Monday, let's not kid ourselves) were said to a computer that had a difficult time understanding that I said "yes" rather than "no." It's not like they sound at all similar. Whatever. I ended up convincing a testy-sounding Bank of America employee to give me my $35 back, so I began the day with a small victory. My bigger victory was plane tickets to Boston in October. I'm pumped. Now let's get on with it September. I don't think anyone likes September. If September were a kid in elementary school he would be the one who wore khakis and hated recess. Get a life. Come on October. October is the cool kid who played dice in the alley. Maybe not, since I don't think I've ever seen anyone play dice the in alley outside of the musical Guys and Dolls.
I've pretty much given up on paying attention in Contracts. The professor is quite nice, though a bit dull. He reminds me of a less famous, less amusing Ben Stein. But from now on from 11-11:55 three days a week I'll probably be on G-Chat. It's much more rewarding than listening to my professor drone on about cases we read a week and a half ago. No kidding. The reading is about a chapter ahead of the class discussion. Weak dude. It gets hard to remember so far back. I hope it doesn't get to an "Eli Whitney invented the cotton gin and that's all I remember about that" type of scenario.
The Geico commercials that have the money with the eyes and the techno song are hilarious. I love the one at the Chinese restaurant. So random. Also the guy who puts the pastry lid over it. Whatever advertising agency thought that up is genius.
And now: Kanye West. Apparently he had an incident with Taylor Swift at the VMA's. My reaction is who watches the VMA's anymore? I was sort of under the impression that music videos died out, especially on MTV. I thought the network just showed immature reality shows these days. Not like the good ol' middle school days of TRL with Carson Daily that I had to watch at a friend's house because I didn't have cable. Most music videos now are promulgated by Youtube, I'd expect. So who cares what happens at an MTV event? I'm glad this drew Joe Wilson comparisons by the way, because the award show of a has-been television channel is about on par with a presidential address to a joint session of Congress in the House Chamber on an issue concerning the immediate well-being of millions of Americans. Kanye West is only influential if you let him be, and everyone is letting him. He knows it, so it's just funny to watch. Although this is nowhere near as amusing as "George Bush doesn't care about black people" (the look on Mike Myers face was priceless). Taylor Swift had it coming; she didn't know what the midwest is. Also, the VMA's used to be crazy talk. Remember when Red Hot Chili Peppers played practically naked? Remember when the bassist from Rage Against the Machine climbed up on the statue because he was pissed that Limp Bizkit won the award for best rock video and security couldn't get him down? That stuff used to happen all the time. I'm just not shocked. I'm not saying what Kanye did was polite, but really it shouldn't be national news. Now I'm waiting for 15 references to this event on Kanye's next album. "Everyone hatin' on Kanye West/Just because I told Taylor she ain't the best..." He'll do it better, I promise. But that's why he's the professional rapper round here.
At least this Monday was better. Much better. Though still not fantastic. But relative to all recent Mondays it was good, so I'm cautiously optimistic. Even though the first thing I did today was irksome: calling an automated answering service. I had to talk to Bank of America about some crap they pulled on me. And I haven't had time during regular business hours recently, so I called this morning a little before 9. Yes, a little before 9 is when I wake up; most days it is 8:30 (except tomorrow when it's an hour earlier). That's wicked early for people still in college, and wicked late for people who have regular jobs. Clearly I am in grad school. Everyone hates "If you have a question regarding your account, please press 1. If you have a question regarding your credit card, please press 2. If you have a question about how to defraud the public and receive billions of dollars of taxpayer money, please hold for the CEO..." and so forth. But Bank of America is so much worse at least for 9 in the morning. Not only did I have to press numbers, I also had to speak to the automated voice in order to affirm that the number I just pressed was in fact the one I meant to press. The result of this system was that my first words of the morning/week (weeks start on Monday, let's not kid ourselves) were said to a computer that had a difficult time understanding that I said "yes" rather than "no." It's not like they sound at all similar. Whatever. I ended up convincing a testy-sounding Bank of America employee to give me my $35 back, so I began the day with a small victory. My bigger victory was plane tickets to Boston in October. I'm pumped. Now let's get on with it September. I don't think anyone likes September. If September were a kid in elementary school he would be the one who wore khakis and hated recess. Get a life. Come on October. October is the cool kid who played dice in the alley. Maybe not, since I don't think I've ever seen anyone play dice the in alley outside of the musical Guys and Dolls.
I've pretty much given up on paying attention in Contracts. The professor is quite nice, though a bit dull. He reminds me of a less famous, less amusing Ben Stein. But from now on from 11-11:55 three days a week I'll probably be on G-Chat. It's much more rewarding than listening to my professor drone on about cases we read a week and a half ago. No kidding. The reading is about a chapter ahead of the class discussion. Weak dude. It gets hard to remember so far back. I hope it doesn't get to an "Eli Whitney invented the cotton gin and that's all I remember about that" type of scenario.
The Geico commercials that have the money with the eyes and the techno song are hilarious. I love the one at the Chinese restaurant. So random. Also the guy who puts the pastry lid over it. Whatever advertising agency thought that up is genius.
And now: Kanye West. Apparently he had an incident with Taylor Swift at the VMA's. My reaction is who watches the VMA's anymore? I was sort of under the impression that music videos died out, especially on MTV. I thought the network just showed immature reality shows these days. Not like the good ol' middle school days of TRL with Carson Daily that I had to watch at a friend's house because I didn't have cable. Most music videos now are promulgated by Youtube, I'd expect. So who cares what happens at an MTV event? I'm glad this drew Joe Wilson comparisons by the way, because the award show of a has-been television channel is about on par with a presidential address to a joint session of Congress in the House Chamber on an issue concerning the immediate well-being of millions of Americans. Kanye West is only influential if you let him be, and everyone is letting him. He knows it, so it's just funny to watch. Although this is nowhere near as amusing as "George Bush doesn't care about black people" (the look on Mike Myers face was priceless). Taylor Swift had it coming; she didn't know what the midwest is. Also, the VMA's used to be crazy talk. Remember when Red Hot Chili Peppers played practically naked? Remember when the bassist from Rage Against the Machine climbed up on the statue because he was pissed that Limp Bizkit won the award for best rock video and security couldn't get him down? That stuff used to happen all the time. I'm just not shocked. I'm not saying what Kanye did was polite, but really it shouldn't be national news. Now I'm waiting for 15 references to this event on Kanye's next album. "Everyone hatin' on Kanye West/Just because I told Taylor she ain't the best..." He'll do it better, I promise. But that's why he's the professional rapper round here.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
W(h)ine
This weekend was varied. Nakul came to visit Friday night, which was very nice of him. Mostly we just hung out, but let's not forget the hour and a half we spent at my roommate's friend's apartment with an awkward mix of people. The apartment itself was really nice. I mean really nice. I mean the people who live there must have help from mommy and daddy. As for the people, there were some people who I knew who it was good to see. But there were lots of people who I didn't know who it was not particularly good to see (meet). The first girl I was talking to was also from Newton and, despite explaining it twice, did not grasp how Nakul and I knew each other since we did not go to college together. Then she asked me where I was from again and I had to remind her that it was her hometown too. At this point I was pretty much done talking to this girl, gave curt responses, and angled my body away from her. But she somehow took this as a signal to keep talking to me. Thankfully she wandered away. Soon more people I didn't know arrived. I would like to make it clear I do not have a problem with foreigners. But have you ever noticed how all men from foreign countries dress exactly the same? They all wear two hundred dollar jeans, a button down shirt with the top 4 buttons undone, and no undershirt. They do this weather or not they have a forrest of chest hair or their chest looks like a seven year old's. I do not understand why buttoning your shirt and/or wearing an undershirt never happens. Is it against the culture of the rest of the world? I'm growing to think it might be. Well all of the people at the apartment eventually, around midnight, decided they wanted to go out. This inevitably meant someplace with music too loud to talk over where drinks would cost more than $4, so I decided not to go. Instead I gave Nakul stir fry and went to sleep.
Saturday morning I went to softball with the law school's softball club. It was an enjoyable pick-up game with a wide array of skill levels, from people who struggled to make contact with the ball to people who played division 1 baseball in college. My hitting certainly is not the best anymore, but in my defense I haven't really practiced since I was thirteen. My defensive instincts, however, are still sharp. It's no big deal, but I made a couple of good plays in the field. Softball is every weekend, so I hope to return and hone my skills.
I ate a pasta bread bowl from Domino's. It was delicious, but it almost killed me. I was so fat and lethargic after it, I barely made it home. I'm pretty sure if you eat more than one a month you'll die. So be warned.
Today I went with Rebecca to Monticello. If you don't remember elementary school, that's Thomas Jefferson's estate. If you don't remember anything you've ever learned, that's the third President of the United States. (The first two were George Washington Carver and Sam Adams if I'm not mistaken.) Monticello is beautiful. It's also in the middle of nowhere, so it was a hefty drive to the middle of Virginia that occurred today. Apparently Jefferson was a botanist just for funsies, and there are tons of flowers and over 300 types of crops growing in the garden. I was actually pretty uncomfortable for a while there because it was so nice mostly because of slaves. I had and am still having a hard time seeing the man who wrote "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal..." as a slave holder. It is incomprehensible to me that someone so smart and so progressive could be so hypocritical. Sad really. But it was really nice to get out of the city and to remember that there are...I don't know, trees and hills, and that not everyone in the world comes with a blackberry glued to their ear.
Apparently Virginia is wine country. There are a bunch of vineyards in central Virginia. Who knew? We went to a vineyard and did a little wine tasting. I think we tried 11 wines - 1 rose, 3 white, 6 red, and 2 dessert. I would say that 6 of them were awful, 3 were ok, and 2 were good. I am not a wine snob. I don't know much about wine. I basically know what I like and what I don't like. Here's something I don't like: a Cabernet that tastes like wine-water. In fact I don't think anyone likes that. But that didn't discourage this vineyard from making it. Apparently there is some market for it in Virginia. So people like bad things, what else is new? This was my first wine tasting ever, and I did end up buying a bottle to commemorate it. But wine tastings make you act like an elitist jerk apparently. I had the urge to comment on the "bouquet" and the "mouthfeel" of the wine. I'm pretty sure I have never felt the need to discuss either of these things before. In fact I usually just drink the wine and don't make pretentious comments Then again, I'm not sure anyone is checking out the bouquet of Franzia.
On the drive home I saw a restaurant advertisement that said, in big red letters, "WE HAVE CRABS."
Saturday morning I went to softball with the law school's softball club. It was an enjoyable pick-up game with a wide array of skill levels, from people who struggled to make contact with the ball to people who played division 1 baseball in college. My hitting certainly is not the best anymore, but in my defense I haven't really practiced since I was thirteen. My defensive instincts, however, are still sharp. It's no big deal, but I made a couple of good plays in the field. Softball is every weekend, so I hope to return and hone my skills.
I ate a pasta bread bowl from Domino's. It was delicious, but it almost killed me. I was so fat and lethargic after it, I barely made it home. I'm pretty sure if you eat more than one a month you'll die. So be warned.
Today I went with Rebecca to Monticello. If you don't remember elementary school, that's Thomas Jefferson's estate. If you don't remember anything you've ever learned, that's the third President of the United States. (The first two were George Washington Carver and Sam Adams if I'm not mistaken.) Monticello is beautiful. It's also in the middle of nowhere, so it was a hefty drive to the middle of Virginia that occurred today. Apparently Jefferson was a botanist just for funsies, and there are tons of flowers and over 300 types of crops growing in the garden. I was actually pretty uncomfortable for a while there because it was so nice mostly because of slaves. I had and am still having a hard time seeing the man who wrote "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal..." as a slave holder. It is incomprehensible to me that someone so smart and so progressive could be so hypocritical. Sad really. But it was really nice to get out of the city and to remember that there are...I don't know, trees and hills, and that not everyone in the world comes with a blackberry glued to their ear.
Apparently Virginia is wine country. There are a bunch of vineyards in central Virginia. Who knew? We went to a vineyard and did a little wine tasting. I think we tried 11 wines - 1 rose, 3 white, 6 red, and 2 dessert. I would say that 6 of them were awful, 3 were ok, and 2 were good. I am not a wine snob. I don't know much about wine. I basically know what I like and what I don't like. Here's something I don't like: a Cabernet that tastes like wine-water. In fact I don't think anyone likes that. But that didn't discourage this vineyard from making it. Apparently there is some market for it in Virginia. So people like bad things, what else is new? This was my first wine tasting ever, and I did end up buying a bottle to commemorate it. But wine tastings make you act like an elitist jerk apparently. I had the urge to comment on the "bouquet" and the "mouthfeel" of the wine. I'm pretty sure I have never felt the need to discuss either of these things before. In fact I usually just drink the wine and don't make pretentious comments Then again, I'm not sure anyone is checking out the bouquet of Franzia.
On the drive home I saw a restaurant advertisement that said, in big red letters, "WE HAVE CRABS."
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