One Down...

°o° On this day in 1999, Mickey's Once Upon a Christmas went straight to video.

Yesterday’s Evidence went fairly well, I think. Unfortunately, it was 50% multiple-choice/true-false and 50% essay... urgh. The essay question was: which rules better serve to preserve the fact-finding function of the jury, the rules against hearsay or the rules against propensity evidence? Which exceptions to these rules better serve the truth-finding purpose of trials? Which exceptions make more sense? Discuss individual exceptions, their rationales, and your opinions thereto.

I had a minor mid-exam scare after I had completed the MC section and progressed to the essay. About two pages in, my cursor started to flash between the ubiquitous arrow and a rather menacing-looking hourglass, and refused to let me click anywhere or do anything. I shot out of my seat like a bat chased by the devil and scurried over to retrieve one of the on-call computer techs, who put my computer into hibernation and then managed to get the Secure Exam program back up and running with all my text intact. I could have hugged him, I was so delighted.

I can’t believe I have to wait until 1:30 on Saturday to take my next exam. Doesn’t that seem like cruel and unusual punishment? I know I’m going to be totally anxious that morning and not get anything done, and then once my exam’s over at 5, I won’t get home until 8:30 or 9, so I’m effectively going to lose an entire day of studying. Not to be totally immature and use three-year-old language, but that sucks.

It was seven degrees this morning. Seven.

I trundled into school this morning at 8am like a bag lady. I had my big snow boots on with a shirt, sweater, fleece and jacket, scarf, hat and gloves. Then my big old backpack stuffed to the brim, one black canvas bag full of Income Tax books and statutes, and another full of supplements and bottled water. I set up shop in this nifty little room in the library that I never knew existed - apparently you can check out rooms, and you get a key so you can go to the bathroom without worrying about your stuff trouncing off and winding up on eBay. It’s really quite suave, but for the fact that it’s about six feet by six feet and I keep hearing that song in my head: “despite all my rage, I am still just a rat in a cage...”

1:30 on Saturday. 48 hours. Sigh.