Wednesday - Day 8

I have my second computer training session this afternoon. Rah! The one cool thing about last night’s training session was that they gave us free water bottles on the way out. Nothing like free merchandise to attract the attention of sleepy students. We’re trained to use these two different types of online programs, called Westlaw and Lexis. Both are online databases of state and federal statutes and common law cases that can be searched and preened for class and professional legal use… and, lucky for us, they’re in head-to-head competition for our business. Basically, they’re sucking up to us as law students so that when we go out and work for a firm, we’ll pay to use their service as opposed to their competitor’s. They have to continue expanding and feathering their online databases to attract the fickle little ferrets of law school.

As a point of trivia, my favorite professor is for Property. He’s quite entertaining, with a dry, deadpan sense of humor that Python fans like me find appealing. For example: “No, no, read what it says. You’re just – flat – WRONG here.” (Class laughs.) “And – I love it.” (Class laughs again.) And I like his accent. I don’t know where he’s from, but it’s a fantastic relief compared to all the ya-dere-hey's I endured at Marquette.

Speaking of Marquette, when I stopped at Borders to pick up “The Top Ten Ways to Combat Panic,” I flipped through the US News rankings of undergraduate institutions and there’s a one-page feature on Marquette as one of the top schools that foster community service. Maybe that’s why I hated it. Interesting how their investigative report on Harvard (which is, naturally, #1), reveals that their academics are on the downslide, protected by the hard armor of the university’s longstanding gilt-edged reputation. Yale is #2, just for trivia… but Yale has the #1 law school in the graduate rankings, and Harvard is only #3, behind Stanford.

Before Property today, one of my A2 section-mates (classmates) stood up before class and hollered, “Did everyone hear me? The hot word today is ‘franchise.’ Whoever raises their hand in class and uses the word ‘franchise’ the most gets a free pitcher of beer from me tonight at Beer Darts! You can use the word however you want, disenfranchise, whatever.” Ahh, that’s what’s happens when we’re sentenced to whittle away on the inside of the same class room for extended periods of time.

For whatever reason, for two days in a row my eyes have opened of their own accord around four in the morning, and prohibited sleep thereafter. I can’t complain, though, because any time spent not panicking is time well spent; I’ll take insomnia any way. One potential contribution to this issue might be that the bulb in one of my lava lamps burned out – I used to fall asleep watching them. Probably not; it’s a small thing. But I have to haul my butt out and buy a replacement bulb instead of shopping at the hardware store in the basement, which is a total bummer.

Because I’ve been keeping MTV and VH1 on in the background as company in my apartment, I’m actually paying more attention to what’s going on in the music world, and becoming familiar with a large portion of the bands I’ve only written about on the web site… granted, I only see flashes of them as I walk to the bathroom and etc., but all the same… So. The best songs of the moment… “Feel Good, Inc.” by the Gorillaz, “All These Things That I’ve Done” by the Killers, “No” by Shakira (even though it’s all in Spanish, which is kind of a creepy and imposing indicator of the increasing percentage of Mexican immigrants in our country), “Real Good Place To Start” by Sara Evans, “Does He Love You” by Carrie Underwood and Jamie O’Neal, and “Probably Wouldn’t Be This Way” by one of my favorites, LeAnn Rimes. Pretty much everything else on country radio absolutely sucks. I mean, in an hour of CMT I’ll probably hear two songs I like. It’s just disgusting. Not that this has any relevance whatsoever to my law school experience.

Wednesday - Day 8

We’ve had wonderful weather all day – spectacular, in fact. It’s plenty warm, about 78 degrees, with a thick but not intrusive breeze to refresh the spirit. It’s overcast, but the grey semi-obscure slate of clouds has a brightness behind them to inspire. But best of all is the feeling weaving through the air, accompanied by the rich scent of moisture clotting in the air. There’s like a promise floating and whirling about, the dorsal fin of an impending storm. Ready? Chant with me now: thun-der-storm! Thun-der-storm!

So, my computer has fantastic wireless capabilities built-in, but some of the class room walls are so thick, we can’t pick up the signal. Thus, we have to enable an Ethernet port, enabling us to plug in with a wire and connect to the internet. Because they’re so paranoid about viruses and hackers, we have to register our MAC address and have a little program registered, and it’s about as complicated as it sounds. So I tracked down the Information Technology Center here, and whilst standing in line, managed to follow the step-by-step instructions to enable the thing myself! I was able to hop out of line and plug into the internet with shocking rapidity. I’m so used to Macs, where everything goes wrong three or four times. I understand why Microsoft is in danger of monopoly litigation.

This has no relevance to anything whatsoever, but Dean Hurd in Criminal Law is wearing the biggest set of art deco copper earrings I’ve ever seen.

For whatever reason, I woke up about 4 this morning and couldn’t go back to sleep. I wasn’t panicked, just restless and not tired. The exhaustion didn’t hit until about 2pm. Hopefully that will result in a good night’s sleep tonight… I’m holding out for a good storm, I guess.

Day 6 - Another Monday

Well, I’m baaa-ack. I did all right last night. It only took me about an hour and a half to fall asleep last night after the MTV music awards. What a disgusting parade of hip-hop, although I really enjoyed the little waterfall walkway all the winners had to walk through to get their Moonman, and the fact that Green Day won everything as opposed to, say, 50 Cent. The Killers’ performance was kind of fun, but Brendan Flowers didn’t sing very well… kind of breathy, as though he were excessively nervous or something. And did you see Eva Longoria? In just about the ugliest excuse of peach underwear I’d ever seen? I loved the boo’s.

Didn’t panic this morning until I got to school; then was breathless and nervous for a while. Hopefully it will even out.

I have to say something about Dean Hurd, now that I’ve seen her in Criminal Law…. She’s wearing a plaid skirt and matching vest over a white shirt and – here’s the totally cool thing – a big pin with a silver lizard. I don’t know why I think that is so cool, but I am highly impressed. I guess I take it as a sign of personality.

The drive down yesterday wasn’t as bad as usual because Mom was kind enough to fund the acquisition of a Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix audio book, comprising some twenty-five CDs in unabridged format. I did ferret out a number of details that had slipped past in my many readings, and the experience of that actor’s voice embodying all these characters proved thoroughly enjoyable. I did pass something other than corn yesterday – three people sky diving, their mini-parachutes cutting elegant, ribbed arcs in the sky as they dangled below. It looked kind of enjoyable, but I’m sure I’d have a heart attack. This was, by the way, just before I passed the John Deere tractor. On the interstate. I’m not kidding.

I was flipping out this weekend about outlines. Turns out I went online and for about $30 a class (because, hey, this is America, and you can buy anything with some dinero) you can buy outlines of the textbooks keyed to the particular version you are using. It’s awesome. It doesn’t work for every class, so far just two because in the others the professors jump around the book with their assignments like chickens dancing on a hot stove, but it provided immense comfort in those two courses, and at least now I have a vague concept of the intended form.

Because I’m a dork I’m still on the Breyer e-mail list, and they sent me images of the big winners at BreyerFest. Some day, when I have an expendable income, I’m going to go back to showing those stupid little things. They sure are fun.

I’m so glad my panic is starting to subside. God be praised.

Friday, Day 5

I leaped out of bed this morning at 5:30 wondering whether the departure time had arrived. It would, I assured myself…. in ten hours. Oops.

I still can’t quite believe I’m running on one cup of coffee a day. My system thanks me, I’m sure, but I wonder what will happen when my steady supply of cold adrenaline begins to dissipate.

I mercilessly annihilated my first pair of socks yesterday. My clean little white ankle-length designer duds from Kohl’s with little pastel green and blue embroidery dots are now a pale shade of salmon. I thought washing everything in cold water would eliminate that possibility, but apparently not.

In Legal Writing today, the professor posted a paragraph from my homework assignment as an example of a correct answer. Things like that shouldn’t bloat me with happiness, but always do. It’s a nice validation, particularly when I had no idea whether I had completed the assignment correctly – I felt like I was stumbling about in the dark, plunking into objects every which way like a pinball trying to find the exit chute.

Twice! I got up on the board twice! She just put me up again!

Three times! Three times! Three times! She only put ten examples on the board, total, and I was up there three times! Rah! Rah! Rah!

My torts professor is the last one to be described… she’s about thirty years old, quite young for a professor, with straw-colored ear-length hair, glasses and a manner and build and skin color that reminds me remarkably of my childhood babysitter, Shelley. She even treads on her shoes in the same slightly cautious manner. She’s wearing a loose blue cotton-nylon suit with a red t-shirt adorned with vertical blue and white stripes. Were she a guy, I’d lament the lack of a female’s influence in clothing selection….

This class takes place in a discussion-type room as opposed to a classroom, so we’re all in our own individual wooden chairs that rotate and lean back, but their bases are so wide when one of us pushes back, the entire row of us are involuntarily shunted in the same direction. Thus, I elected to sit on the end, right in front of the professor. The chairs are arranged in a giant U shape facing her podium, and I’m on the end of the U right next to the door, directly in front of her. At least I have no opportunity to lose focus.

I volunteered for he first time in her class. “Does the law apply any significance to the fact that the defendant is five years old?” She pointed at me when I raised my hand. “No; the court applies no significance to his age.” “Okay, in what sense?” (insert fluttering flash of nerves and a split-second that seemed to span three minutes) “The conditions of for establishing battery are applied equally to adults and children, regardless of their age.” “Exactly.” Well, I guess I’m on my way. All the peer mentors said in orientation that if you don’t volunteer in the first two weeks of classes, you never will. I did. Yeah!

Thursday - Day 4

In my quest for a weekend at home, I spurred myself into action at an unholy hour this morning and scrambled to the library. I was first in line, parked outside the locked doors like a frantic dog with rabies frothing at the mouth. I just about mauled the guy opening the gates to ascertain the location of the State Statutes, and then pounced upon the lady at the Research desk when she arrived at 9.

But I got it done!

We had a brief lecture in class about hiding books – apparently at Big League schools, people will rip pages out of needed documents or stash books in the corner of the library in an unlikely location. How low do you have to be? The professor reminded us that we would be disbarred for such activity, and some smart alec in the back added, "Yeah, and if anyone does that, I'll smash their face like a walnut." Guess we don't have to worry about that one.

I didn’t sleep too well last night, but this morning I only had a moment's cold panic, wondering what had happened to the nonexistent other occupants of my residency, probably because I have a home venture this weekend. It’s strange to arise and not see Mom sleeping down the hall and walk downstairs to the smell of coffee and Dad rustling the paper and the dog prancing merrily at my feet.

It’s funny how I’ve turned into a different person. For instance, I noticed when shopping that the zucchini looked kind of wilted last Sunday, so I ferreted out the dude dealing with produce and asked what times they laid out the new vegetables so I could adjust my purchasing times accordingly. I guess that’s not THAT strange, particularly to people in Europe, but… never thought I’d get there. I think I'm going to circumvent the problem entirely in the future by sticking to an organic produce market I found on the internet. I'll probably die for lack of pesticides, but I guess that's neither here nor there.

Well, I witnessed my first game of Solitaire today, in Legal Research. Admittedly, the material was roughly comparable in mental provocation abilities to a History Channel lecture on the development of different kinds of paint. But I thought it would take longer than four days.

And on the social front... there’s one in every crowd. “When is assignment 1L due? Is it due Thursday?” The professor stood there for a long moment just staring at the guy, and then reached for his copy of the syllabus. He flipped to the back page and read, “Assignment 1L, due Friday, assigned Thursday. Was that not clear?” Ahhhhh. Impatience with stupidity. Life is good. It’s really funny – it’s only the fourth day of classes, and this dude has only has to shift his weight to ignite a restless impatience in the rest of the students. He raises his hand to a collective groan. I thought maybe I was being overly harsh, but between classes in the lounge area, he was the topic of many a monologue: "That guy's on my hit list already," "He takes the professor so far off topic we might as well be surfing in the Caribbean," "Someone ought to tell him we're here to learn things other than his opinion." Ahh, natural selection at its finest.

Quote of the day, week, and possibly month: "I don't expect you to understand this, or to know how to do it. But I do expect you to do it right the first time. Welcome to law school."

Day 3 Part 2

I’m kind of nervous that the TLC dude is coming to poke around my apartment today. I hope he doesn’t disturb or take anything. I put a lock on my closet door and although a truly determined person could get through it, I think it conveys the point.

I was all excited in Contracts this morning because I figured out how to modify Microsoft Word to make symbols whenever I want them without having to fish around under the “Insert Symbol” menu. In this course we reference the Second Restatement of Contracts regularly, and its hallmark is a little symbol comprised of two capital S’s in a merged squiggle. I programmed Word to automatically replace the typed text of a capital S followed immediately by a small s and insert the § symbol. It sounds like a really stupid thing but (a) it makes notetaking infinitely easier, (b) I love tinkering with computer programs and modifying them to suit, and (c) this kind of thing fascinates me. Just think of the possibilities. I wish I had known about this modification when I was typing Organic Chemistry labs on a nightly basis and needed a Celsius or degree symbol every couple of numbers.

I caught bits of the first three episodes of Tommy Lee’s college experience last night, and it was quite entertaining. I really abhor reality shows, but this one is a certain exception. It really accurately conveyed college life as I experience it – everyone harboring the delusion that their portion of the university was of the utmost importance (the band) and taking everything (tryouts) wayyyyyy too seriously. And then the professors that expected you to dive into chem. Labs without explaining them (I was having major chem. Flashbacks here, with my Hindu TA who only knew about six English words, two of which were “wrong” and “stupid”). And then the hard-knock dean who was absolutely no help and offered no comfort at all – that was like Marquette all the way.

Classes for everyone else started today, and campus is absolutely bustling. It looks like someone let out a Rolling Stones concert on the Quad – people everywhere. As such, it has become increasingly apparent why I cannot manage to speak to an Insight Cable representative – I saw about sixteen Insight trucks on the way to class today. That’s okay, though, because I have a DVD player. I fell asleep last night to Tuck Everlasting, a Disney movie about a family who drinks from a magic spring of water and lives forever. Peaceful… quiet… milquetoast. Perfect background material.

I stopped home today to get some water and take last-minute photos of my apartment lest someone from TLC abscond with something of mine, but as I was rummaging around for my newly-acquired closet keys there was a rap on the door… it was the TLC dude! I couldn’t believe my luck! He was a little twentysomething with the hard edge of a hardware worker like Stuart or Butch, a guy ruffled around by the world whilst puttering about on the lower rungs of the latter. He asked me if I’d had any pest problems (negative), zpritzed the floor in my kitchen with his handy-dandy high-tech weed sprayer, and bid me a good day. Yet another example of me freaking over nothing. But I’m glad I was there. I’ll have to remember that for next month – 12:30, give or take.

“Before we begin, I have to tell you that this course has a reputation for being the most difficult, least intuitive, most dreaded, and least enjoyed of all law school courses. I have to add that, as much as students run from this class, teachers run even faster. They run from it like rats run from an exterminator.” He’s a tall gray slate of an early fortysomething, with a charcoal gray pinstripe suit, deep periwinkle silk shirt and checkered tie, the first well-dressed male I’ve encountered at law school. He has glasses and a bright manner, quick to smile but with a stern hawk’s nose and that rumbly, dry metal voice, and his mannerisms are eerily reminiscent of Mr. Lawry (I think that was his name?) from A League of their Own, the guy hired by Mr. Harvey to find an audience for the league. He has really unique handwriting – giant, thin capital letters and tiny, meticulous little letters thereafter, with a splashy up and down appearance like he held the chalk in two fingers and snapped his wrist to create them. He also has a crisp, clean way of mouthing words. And I would just like to announce that I ADORE the guy – he just referenced MONTY PYTHON! “A John Cleese type character shuffling about in the woods…” Yeah!

As for the realm of other local worthlessness, my favorite telly show is on in reruns tonight: Lost! I think it’s even the season finale, which would be nice for a background soundtrack.

Wednesday

I would just like to announce that, after forty-five minutes in line yesterday, I am now the proud owner of a CashKey! It’s a little black key fob type thing with a gold spiral, and instead of sticking quarters into the meter, one dip of this guy and you’ve got 20 minutes of a ticket-free existence. Kind of cool – no lugging around massive amounts of quarters.

I am so glad I slept last night. They say caffeine is horrible for panic attacks, so I’m trying to do without, which is infinitely easier with a night’s rest behind me. I started the evening with a slightly disasterous attempt at calming myself with a nice bubble bath. First, I opened my Bath and Body Works Juniper Breeze bath salts to find them eroded into a solid, unyielding mass … which I guess was to be expected, considering I received the thing as a gift my first year of undergrad. Then I tried to run a bath, and the little stopper on the bottom didn’t work, so all the water kept whooshing out. I covered it with a tuppeware container, which was fine until the water passed the container and it started to float. Thus, my unsuccessful attempt at imitating the Romans’ favorite pastime culminated in a short Harry Potter reading in a cold pile of scentless, lukewarm water, accompanied by an overturned Tupperware container and a six-pack of Diet Coke. At least my life is never boring.

Tuesday - Day 2 of Many

It’s Contracts time again! Rah, rah, rah. I’m exhausted, but I guess such is the life of any graduate student. My eyes are doing that thing where you attempt to focus on something and your sight kind of shifts back and forth before orienting itself on the intended subject. Yikes!

I have my first writing course this afternoon. Hopefully we’ll have a great professor for that, because I couldn’t bear a boring writing class.

So the day started with Contracts, as previously stated, and then Criminal Law with the Dean (The Hawk). She’s really quick and bright and entertaining, not at all like the mental image I had cultivated of deans thanks to Marquette’s time-honored tradition of scouting out the most boring, emotionally stoic and uncaring elders in the community and pushing them into authoritative positions. There are actually competent, intelligent people in those positions here… it’s a welcome change.

I’m still having panic troubles, but they’re not half as bad as before. Last night I couldn’t fall asleep, so I walked over to the mail box in my pajamas and peered in all the illuminated windows. It’s was a really pleasant evening, with a bright warmth on the wind, and I enjoyed innocently snooping. There was a guy sitting on a third floor at his computer, obviously a graduate student of some sort, with books sprawled about. Other than that, I really only saw white walls and strung windows. A lot of people had bikes chained to their stairwells, and one person was obviously having a party, with streamers and a glossy birthday sign strung like graffiti upon their door. It’s also calming to look between the buildings at the moonlight prancing over the slight waves on the pond’s water. I started panicking this morning, but then I reminded myself that I’m not stuck on my own in the middle of Illinois forever, and I can always go home to my family, and I calmed down almost immediately. I don’t know what that was all about. I guess a fear of being abandoned. Then this morning in Criminal Law my heart started pounding so my whole chest vibrated and I could feel my pulse, and I had that cold rush of panic that there’s something critically wrong with my heart and I’m dying and at that point I realized I was veering down a bad path… so I did a few breathing exercises and typed a bit in my computerized version of my journal and that has helped. I think maybe if I keep sleeping and catch up it might help matters. Maybe I’m having more panic episodes because my system is already under stress due to lack of sleep?

After this class I’m going to try and get a key for the meters, the imperative word being “try.” Who’s to say whether I’ll actually make it to the public safety office, considering my disasterous attempt yesterday.

Yesterday when I got home I was schlepping toward the stairs, with my backpack, briefcase, bag-o-books and clothes from school all strapped across my back like Santa Claus, puffing mightily, and when I hit the third step I saw this giant Disney box at the top of the stairs. It was so exciting! My favorite type of box. I now have a Mickey bath mat and some Mickey bath towels, in addition to a Mickey cooking mitt and cloth with matching kitchen towels. So cute!

Well, for legal writing at thee o’clock they changed the room without posting it online, leaving a small group of haggard and sleep-deprived 1Ls to rush around like headless chickens. We did make it in plenty of time, but there’s nothing like cold panic to mentally alleviate the weight of my backpack.

My writing teacher, Professor Grant, said she just wanted me to know that for our mock class, which happened during orientation, I was the alternative first pick. Apparently, Professor Columbo, who picked people with Z last names after reading a biography on a famous golfer with a Z last name, almost went with “Italian names,” of which I was apparently the first in the alphabet. Saved by the rich man’s sport!

I find it oddly satisfying that the men’s bathroom is in the basement with the lockers and the rats and the women’s bathroom is on the first floor with the classrooms. Poetic justice.

The First Day, Part Deux

I’m back for a second dose of Contracts (with the HWAAAA guy). Precisely why we have the class twice in one day has not been made clear to me, beyond the implication that lunch should constitute not a break but a period of frantic reading to accommodate the newly-acquired assignment doled out in the morning.

I have to say, I’m a first-class fan of the Illinois law mandating that all cars yield to people in the crosswalk, regardless of their quantity, pace or gratitude. My opinion on this matter fleetingly changes as I’m driving home, but for the most part…

Why in the world does Insight Cable not carry the Travel channel? They have HGTV. They have QVC. They have the friggin’ Women’s Network, and who watches that? They even offet MTV2 on their basic cable system, but noooo, not the travel channel. Of all the stations for them to omit, they choose the ONE I actually watch. Last night I actually deigned to watch a wedding cake design contest on the Food Network for the semblance of friendliness and social interaction that I usually mine from Samantha Brown, the host of my favorite show Great Hotels.

I’m just about to start Legal Research, the last class of my Monday. I think it’s rather sadistic to schedule Monday as the longest and most tedious schedule. I’m sure they’ll make us crunch the archaic form o f research and then give us the access codes to the online catalog, whereafter we well collectively gripe about the massive loss of time and effort.

It’s strange that they listed all the assignments for our first day of class on a peg board in the basement by our lockers. This school is so high-tech that when a professor says something of note a series of blue screens suddenly burst into action and emanate a massive, orbiting clicking sound, yet they can’t manage to e-mail the first day’s assignments. Ah, well.

Today I used the time between my first classes attempting to acquire a parking key. They have a fantastic system here where you buy a little plastic key for $35 and then you can put a bunch of money on it. When you get to your parking spot, you stick the key in the meter and it deducts a quarter, so you don’t have to haul change around all the time. It’s $.75/hour at the meters, as opposed to $.50/hour at Marquette, which really isn’t bad considering it’s $1/hour downtown. Anyway, the key. There were so many one-way streets that after forty-five minutes of circles I gave up for fear of being late for my second Contracts course. I’ll have to go duke it out tomorrow. The second break included a chat with my sister and a trip to the art museum. I sat in front of open windows at a glass table and typed my Criminal Law outline. Ahh, life.

In Legal Research, the teacher (who seems really amiable and loathes U of Michigan grads) is making us go around and introduce ourselves, which I hate. He reminds me of my high school algebra professor, although this guy actually possesses a sense of humor as opposed to just thinking he does. He’s got dark olive green pants, a white dress shirt and a powder-blue and white checkered tie (don’t any of these guys have girlfriends to teach them how to match?!) But he seems nice, so we’ll overlook the serious match mishap. For example, one kid said, “My favorite movie is the Shawshank Redemption.” He said, “Watch much TBS, Mr. Cho?” And then, “My favorite book is The Great Gatsby.” “Speaking of alcohol…” He asked for either our favorite tv commercial, movie, book or album, which proved immensely more interesting than the traditional undergraduate institution – major – hometown lineup we’re typically subjected to, as we fight the urge to nod off and meekly attempt to feign the slightest modicum of interest. I was highly impressed by the bloke who cited his favorite book at Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, and one who named Office Space as his favorite movie.

The upside of this guy: “I have a rule I tell 1Ls: believe fifty percent of what 2Ls and 3Ls tell you. If you are a female, and the 2L or 3L in question is male, believe half again of that.”

The down side: “I won’t hesitate to fail you.”

He says the three pillars of law school are 1) alcohol (they have a keg every Thursday right outside the classrooms starting at 5), 2) relationships and 3) terror. Thanks. I’m really looking forward to that last one.

In my slowly increasing age and disproportionately increasing wisdom (cough, cough) I’ve come to realize that maybe Marquette wasn’t the travesty of a school I deemed it. Sixty-five percent of my 1L class went to undergrad at this school, and they are thus suitably disillusioned with the multitude of merits I and other out-of-staters so adore and perceive. I think my attitude made it an atrocious school. And the suburban Catholic snobs. And the less-than-stellar teaching staff. And the awful surroundings-

Okay, that paragraph didn’t pan out as planned. The point is, Marquette was what I made it. It’s just disgusting how my parents are right about everything.

It was the most beautiful day today, about eighty and bright with a breeze. When I returned to my apartment I opened the patio door and listened to the crickets. I can’t wait for the fireflies!

The First Day, Part Une

Well, T-minues ten minutes. All the sheep (students) have been funneled into the corral (room D) and tethered (via keyboard and extension cord). Now we’re all mulling restlessly. No one really knows what’s going on. We’re all shifting about in the elegant but extravagantly uncomfortable hardback chairs...

You’d think the professor would make an appearance a few minutes ahead of class – we’re six minutes away and he has yet to show. Then again, maybe it’s best that he doesn’t; who knows how we’d all react. Cold panic might spread like the plague with a set of dark, authoritative eyes peering out at us. Maybe the guy doesn’t want to have to make small talk with underlings like us.

The room filled up in a predictable pattern – fourth and fifth rows first, then the third and sixth, then the rest of the front. The seventh row is just starting to clot, and the back, eighth,is completely empty. We’ve all been warned about the perils inherent in that row. I’m on the far right end (for purposes of maximum mobility/space and minimal elbow bashing and panic possibility) in the fourth row. It seems to be fine.

The class breakdown is rather typical. About half of the people are in jeans and t-shirts, a few with halves. The majority have nice pants and those loose, dress, ratcatcher-type shirts. Then, a few of us went all out, dressed up with makeup and the whole bit. It’s basically me and all the people who took a few years to venture out into the business world before coming to law school.
Why would you wear a pair of shorts and a t-shirt with a backwards baseball cap for the first day? Good Lord, you slob. He’s in the front row, too.

Professor Maggs walked in and silence fell like a thick fog. He’s in a suit, with one of those tacky pastel dress shirts, paired with slte gray pants, a navy blazer, and a totally clashing hunter green tie with tan polka-dots. And his wife let him leave the house like that? !He’s got a little ring of gray hair and a bald head, and bears a striking resemblance to the beauty salon guy I saw in the Princess Diaries 2 commericials, the one that said, “You make all the boy moose go HWAAAAAA.” His face is always kind of scrunched up, puckered like a lemon. He’s got one of those voices that has just started to lower with age and occasionally brushes up against a gravelly texture with slightly breathy intervals.

He passed out a seating chart and asked only for the last names. From here on out I am “Miss…last time” (omitted herein lest some internet bypasser happen upon this page).
It’s really nice to look around and realize everybody’s alone. No one really knows their neighbor, or who they’re sitting next to. There are a few roommates, but that’s the extent of our networking thus far.

I really like how they cut out the fat, here. If someone answers incorrectly, there’s no, “Well, close, but…” or “That’s a good guess, but…” Instead, he just picks another person to ask, and the conversation continues. It’s such a nice change from undergrad – the difference between walking to the store nonstop with your destination in mind and meandering to the store while stopping to look for red pebbles every few steps. It’s like, let’s just get there and do our thing and leave, huh? (I suspect my opinion on this matter will change the first time I answer incorrectly and meet the Cold Shoulder of being Ignored).

I don’t know whether it’s the fear of being called on or the general anxiety of the day or the result of too much caffeine this morning, but I have to use the restroom like you would not believe. I do not, however, believe in walking out in the middle of class. That always bothered me in undergrad – it’s like a slap in the face to the teacher. “Here I go! I have better things to do than listen to your boring monologue!”

I feel slightly like a new zebra at the local zoo, or like Bambi after he was born in the forest. Everyone who walks by eyes the lot of us like a fresh batch of flowers. Earlier there was a trio of professors standing outside, rotating in a semicircle to get a good look at all of us. What are we, slabs of meat? I realize we’re new recruits, but, some on!

Some dude just got up and walked out, I can’t believe it. In a bright orange shirt, too.

Next up : Dean Hurd’s class. She’s in a classy cream pantsuit with flowing material and a lace shirt, very classy and expensive, the type of elegant fabric and cut I always remember my Mom wearing to important functions and church., complete with fresh pleats. She has big silver raindrop earrings reminiscent of the 80’s that look so heavy I hope for her sake they’re clip on. Her hair is immobile, hay-colored and styled in a wide sweep beneath a deep coat of hair spray. She’s stern but friendly and sprinkles her speech with jokes and smiles. What gets me is her eyes – she has those thick, focused eyes that peer with a steely glint. I’m going to hate playing the rabbit. The whole effect is topped off by a French manicure and crisp fake nails. Obviously a child of the 80’s, but quick, to the point, and abrupt in her manner.

You know, Dad took Latin in high school and called it a largely worthless endeavor. I wish to take contention with this assertion – there are so many legal terms I could spit. I feel like I’m going to school at Hogworts.

Time to focus. See you later!

Trial

Welcome, welcome, welcome to the Cell Block Tango, a virtual scrapbook of life as a 1L. Because I’m a technogeek who writes compulsively, this will be updated on an almost pathological basis. Should you find it dreadfully uninteresting or uninspired, remember - you invited yourself. Enjoy!