Oy Already

“Oy with the poodles already!”
- Loreliai, Gilmore Girls

It’s strange to be at school on Reading Day, or any day after classes cease yet before exams begin. It’s like a ghost town - me and the 1Ls. The 2Ls don’t roll out of bed and appear until about noon (I discovered that last year). I have yet to determine what happens to the 3Ls - I haven’t even seen the ones who live in my apartment complex. Either they stay in their rooms to study, or just aren’t studying because they’re emotionally done, or what...

The Kentucky Derby is Satuday: bum-BUM-bum but-dadda-dum, but-dadda-dum, dum-dum-DUM-dummmm....

I have my first exam tomorrow morning at 8:30. I prefer the morning ones because (1) there’s no pacing/anticipation/anxious hours to pass, and (2) I don’t have to arrive insanely early to procure a decent seat, as people are willing to roll out of bed and be there by noon, but not before 8am. I suppose I’ll be there at 7:30 anyway, just in case. Because I’m odd.

I am so tired my head is pounding. I didn’t sleep last night so I only had two diet Mountain Dews this morning and my system is complaining vociferously.

When I arrived this morning, a batch of students had already settled into my study room, so I had to select another. But the key here is “batch” of students... there were a pack of them studying together. That’s got to be a million times easier than going it alone. I wish I had that luxury. I sure hope I do well. I’m terrified. Can you tell?

Arrrrgh

Phil: What would you do if you were stuck in one place and every day was exactly the same, and nothing that you did mattered?
Ralph: That about sums it up for me.
- Groundhog Day

I. Am. Sick. Of. School.

I am sick of calculating the internal rate of return a potential property investment could produce. I am sick of getting up in the middle of the night wondering if I should be running flashcards as opposed to sleeping. I am sick of thumbing through the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure to decipher § 122(b)(2)(3)(a)(iv) and determine how it can be interpreted in light of the generally-accepted canons of statutory interpretation and through the lens of related but separate § 106(b)(4)(iii). I am even (gasp! shudder!) sick of outlining for my trademarks class, which is one of my three favorites as a portion of the triad comprising IP. I want to go home and forget about classes and just veg out on the couch and pretend law school does not exist and that I do not have exams on Thursday and Friday.

Idle Discourse

“Let us not waste time in idle discourse.”
- Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot

I am so tired my ability to form and emit coherency of any sort has expired. At this point in the semester I just have to start allowing my mouth and fingers to operate on cruise control and trust that they won’t betray me. I can’t remember what happened this morning before I arrived at class. I think I sat at home and studied, which obviously did a lot of good, seeing as I cannot even recall the happenings.

Oh, I hope I pass. I just need to pass everything so I can graduate and get out of here. Pleeeeeeease.

This is also about the time in the semester that, every time I see an animal, I think, “wouldn’t it be wonderful to be a horse. Beautiful and able to fly without wings with no exams, no worries, no bills, no troubles...

3rd Secretary-General of the UN

Guy Patterson: If Jimmy’s a genius, I’m U Thant.
The Bass Player: Who’s U Thant?
Guy Patterson: He’s the Sec- forget it.
- That Thing You Do

Thirteen more days of school. People keep telling me to “hang in there,” because it’s “almost over.” Picture Mufasa in The Lion King, dangling off the side of the cliff with just his claws scrambling for traction while Scar pushes his toes loose one by one. Anyway, it’s not almost over, is it? We get one stern gasp of breath, and then dive right in for the bar exam. Sigh.

That Thing You Do was on last night. I’ve seen it 1,346,925 times and yet I watch it every time it’s on. What a fantastic film.

Help!

“I’m sick of chasing my dreams. I’m just going to ask them where they’re going and hook up with them later.”
- Mitch Hedburg

For a lot of people, today is the last day of law school. They don’t plan on attending our scheduled classes on Monday, and long ago planned their schedule to have Fridays off. I am terrified of exams. Panic has finally set in. What if I fail? What then? I feel like I’m falling apart. Am I like this at the end of every semester? I can’t remember. I guess I’m experiencing tunnel vision. Maybe I’m like this every year or semester or whatever. I’m losing my mind - no, it’s gone, long gone, done me wrong, like Alison Krauss and Robert Plant would say. I’m so screwed. Less than three weeks left. I’m doomed. I’m going to fail everything and have to retake an entire semester and Ahhhhhhhh! I’m panicked! Help!!

The Kid v. The System

“So the American government lied to the Native Americans for many, many years, and then President Clinton lied about a relationship, and everyone was surprised! A little naïve, I feel.”
- Eddie Izzard

So today one of my profs decided to extend class beyond the scheduled end period. Knowing I had a limited amount of time in the meter, I rushed out to find a ticket on my windshield. The parking meter vulture lady was two cars ahead. I hadn’t slept all week, had just endured a horrible class, and had zero patience whatsoever for this nonsense. I don’t know what came over me; it was like an out-of-body experience. I approached her window as she was issuing some other hapless victim a citation.

This is my best recollection of my outburst. Bear in mind I never raised my voice or technically “lost my temper,” I just started hemorrhaging from the mouth: “Excuse me, do you have a moment?” She looked up in surprise and did not reply. “I think it bears noting that if you consider the statistical distribution of parking tickets, a disproportionate amount are given to law students. I don’t know if that is because you dislike us, or you think we’re greedy ambulance chasers, or you are simply bitter about having to shovel our walk before everyone else’s, but I don’t think it’s fair for you to circle the law school like a vulture just waiting for a meter to change when the university already charges enough tuition each semester to feed and clothe all the children in four southeast Asian countries.” (By the way, I have no idea if this is accurate; just accept the hyperbole.) “And it bears noting that I put enough change in the meter to give myself fifteen minutes to pack up my books and walk out to my car after class. If I’d had any inkling that my professor would feel the need to subject us to a lengthy diatribe about the current state of the union after the scheduled end time of our class, I would have gladly put an extra quarter in the meter. But I don’t think I should be punished for failing to foresee my professor’s penchant for excessive banter.” At this point I realized I was rambling at a poor woman who was essentially gaping at me, quite clearly thinking, This kid’s going to climb in the truck and throttle me. Is she insane?

And yes, I’ve found that when I’m extremely irritated, I deploy an inordinately lengthy and convoluted vernacular.

A long pause ensued, and eventually she adopted a sheepish expression. Then she said, “I didn’t know about your situation. I’ll call in and cancel the ticket from the system.”

That really rankled me, and at this point I started proverbially spitting: “Oh, sure, like I’m supposed to believe that! In two weeks I’ll get a letter in the mail saying that, not only do I have to pay the ticket, but I also owe interest and a late fee! Sorry for disturbing you. I’ll let you get back to playing Sheriff of Nottingham.” (Which was the guy in Robin Hood who levied unpayable taxes on the rabbits living in the forest)

So I paid the ticket and put it in the little collection box.

When I came out a few hours later, the ticket was on my windshield with a note - “This citation was cancelled by the issuing officer. There is no amount due. Thank you, and have a nice day.”

One point for the п in the case of The Kid v. The System. One small win for a kid, one giant win for kidkind.

Some Remain So

“We are all born mad. Some remain so.”
- Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot

. . . 22 days . . .

What a time to get sick. I woke up this morning feeling like someone had stuck a helium pump in each ear and started the flow. Of course, that would make me lighter than normal, so I guess that’s an inaccurate comparison.

Last night we had an earthquake at 4:35 am that registered 5.45 on the Richter scale, located 20 miles southwest of Vicennes, Indiana and 125 miles southwest of Indianapolis. It was felt, apparently, as north as the Upper Penninsula of Michigan, as far south as Georgia, as far west as Kansas, with structural damage in West Salem, Illinois and Louisville, Kentucky (hope all the horses were all right!) Strange, huh? So now I’ve been in two earthquakes - a small one in Milwaukee that nobody noticed, and a rather sizeable one here in Champaign that everyone is buzzing about.

A Great Deadener

“Habit is a great deadener.”
- Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot

. . . 33 days . . .

Last night I managed to get the exercise bike out of my car and onto the ground with little trouble. I also managed to get it up the stairs, although I never realized how many I had (19) and by the tenth I understood for perhaps the inaugural time why some weightlifters make horrid noises at the gym. I thought my fingers were going to jump ship, but I got it into the apartment! It’s positioned right in the middle of my living room.

My absolute favorite time of the year in Champaign is the spring, when all the cherry blossom trees burst into life. They’re my favorite trees, because they look like the personification of an exuberant grin. So it was with a flicker of delight that I descended the afore-referenced stairs this morning and glanced over at the long- bare trees near our garbage container and clearly discerned a maroon tinge on the branches.

Since the demise of my beloved Gilmore Girls I have been seeking a replacement and coming up empty. I kind of like the British show Doctor Who, but it has become too plot-centered in the recent season rather than character-centered and comedic. Thus, I was delighted to find a new show called Torchwood, a spin-off show that centers on my favorite character from Doctor Who. Things were progressing swimmingly and it seemed quite promising until the kissing... no thanks. Back to square one. Why does all television stink? The only things I enjoy right now are Disney specials on the Travel Channel.

The Koreans are home, but I haven’t heard piano playing lately. What gives? I see a light on in the hallway beyond the piano room, but not the room itself.

So Low Before . . .

“But the clouds never hung so low before.”
- The Band, “It Makes No Difference”

. . . 37 Days . . .

I don’t know what to do. How many times have I said that in these posts? I just don’t know what to do. I’m incapacitated by a cocktail of fatigue, depression and shame. But what to do? I’m scarcely capable of making a phone call. I have to sit in my car and talk myself into the law school every day. How did I get here from August, 2005? What happened? Where did I go wrong?

I don’t know why this came to mind, but last year one time I was jogging merrily on the treadmill, on my way to seven miles, while watching The Last Waltz. An older guy came up and got on the treadmill next to me to start walking. He flicked through the channels and then glanced over at my television, obviously seeking an entertaining channel to duplicate. It was hilarious: he looked at the screen, looked at me, looked at the screen, looked at me again, and then watched the screen for the entire time I was on the treadmill. His thoughts couldn not have been any plainer: “You’re how old?” But that was back when I was a reasonable size and possessed of the ability to run and do whatever I wanted. Sigh.

In the Cold, Cold Sun

“Try looking through a haze at an empty house in the cold, cold sun.”
- The Band, “Whispering Pines”

. . . 38 Days . . .

My patience, which was never particularly extensive to begin with, has officially expired. I was sitting in my Complex Litigation classroom this morning listening to the proliferation of 2Ls and smattering of 3Ls banter and almost everything I overheard was either annoying, imprudent or utterly unnecessary. Just when I think I despise men and wish to confine my friendships to this half of the species, one will walk in before class and make a whole to-do about another’s hairdo. So what if she got highlights? Who cares if they were performed using tinfoil or large something-or-others? (Can you tell I’m completely lost in this arena? I’m worse than a guy.) I guess what irks me most of all is the absolute pretentiousness that exudes from my classmates’ voices. It’s the primary reason I elect to remain silent in most of my courses. I couldn’t bear sounding like a self-righteous know-it-all; but then, I sound like one now, don’t I? I guess I’ll just shut up.

°o° I wish Dad, Ali and I were standing at EPCOT watching IllumiNations, or on Main Street watching Wishes.

David Beckham was on Jay Leno last night, and I wanted so much to despise the guy since the world so reveres him, but he seemed a very decent fellow. How disappointing.

°o° Or that Ali and I were sitting on the Monsters, Inc. Laugh Floor, giggling our heads off.

I sit in the back and I’m keeping an eye on the other 3Ls in the class, which is slightly elevating my spirits. One, who is also in my Witness course, is playing some sort of virtual basketball game. Another is surfing EBay for purses (how many does one need? Sorry; the guy in me again.) Several are on MySpace, doing something or other.

I guess what grates me the most is the commentary and endless dissection of current events and hypothetical situations. As a 1L it was intriguing and challenging and invigorating. As a 2L, it was old hat, necessary for the furtherance of class discussion and to procure a decent grade. Now it’s just tedious speculation that seems an immense waste of time. People’s houses are being bulldozed in China so the government can prepare for the Olympics, massive genocide is occurring in Darfur, and here were are nitpicking at some stupid hypothetical posed by our professor which (let’s face facts here) will never likely come to pass because the fictionalized facts are so extravagant and far-fetched as to defy practicality and possibility.

The Other Boleyn Girl was horrible, although the horses and costumes were gorgeous. 21 sucked, basically due to deficient dialogue and excessive sexuality (the type of movie was not relevant in my criticism, because I loved the Ocean’s movies). I rented Wristcutters to watch tonight - hopefully that will provide some distraction.

What a knob - I left my cell phone at home. Who does that in this day and age? (At least, I pray I left it at home!!) I always pat my jacket pocket on the way out to make sure I have it, but I had my iPod in my pocket this morning and made a rather egregious mistake in perception.

I love Monsters, Inc. What a great movie.