Back by Popular Demand

It's called writers block. Don't judge me. It's also called I'm in law school, I spend all my time writing and rewriting to keep my reputation for adequacy. So it's Halloween and I still don't have a costume. Here are a few of the many ideas shot down by my need for social acceptance...or by Pete's better judgment. You decide.

1) Mary Kate Olsen: Skeleton costume with heels and a designer bag

2) Earthquake: This actually doesn't require a costume. I would just go around shaking strangers (but not strangers who are babies)

3) Dick Cheney: But I'd have to figure out how to become invisible

4) The Economy: I didn't plan sufficiently for this one. I would have had to stop eating months ago.

5) A Vested Remainder: Hilarious law school joke that none of my normal friends would find funny.

I could think of nothing acceptable. So I decided to be a chef (snooze). I just slapped on an apron and whacked people with wooden spoons all night. And by all night I mean until 10:30pm, when I went to bed so I could wake up Saturday morning and do work all day long. Sigh.

Celebrating Mediocrity

There was a time when I regarded the word "Adequate" with disdain. I preferred to be described as "great," "above and beyond," or "mentally stable." But those days are gone. After my legal writing professor told us today that nearly everyone received a "needs substantial improvement" on our most recent research submission, I all but revelled in the glowing review that my paper warranted: ADEQUATE.

Ladies and gentleman, there's hope for me yet. According to Webster's Thesaurus, I am "decent, enough, satisfactory, acceptable, all right, average, common, decent, fair, fairish, goodish, moderate, passable, tolerable, and OK!" GOODISH? THAT'S AWESOME!

I haven't been this content to doggy paddle my way through life since my first swim lesson. (Side note: A lifeguard once tried to save my life while I was "swimming." I like to think of the incident as a clever tactic on my part. As long as my metaphorical attempts to swim look deadly, no one in my classes will ever suspect I'm the one ruining the curve.)

Here's to hoping I don't drown before the semester is over.

New Plan to Succeed in Law School: Phase Two

1. Have hobbies. You know, like flossing or crying in public.
2. Remain calm. Even if you have to use cat tranquilizers.
3. Think positive. Unless you're thinking about HIV.
4. Be confident. Example: I failed?!? Well at least I'm really good at being bad! Yes!!!
5. Don't compare yourself to others. Compare yourself to your former self. You know, the one that still had time to eat three meals a day and shower more than once a week.
6. Try to take it one day at a time. Until several days attack you at once.
7. Be friendly. Or at least be nice to people up front and talk shit behind their backs.
8. Do your best. Although, trust me, your best is probably not good enough.
9. Keep a schedule. Example: Wakeuplawschoollawschoollawschoollawschoollawschopassout.
10. Maintain a budget. Or don't. You're already 100K in the hole anyway.

New Plan to Succeed in Law School: Phase One

So the other day I was reading in the library when I was interrupted by a man I can only assume to be an enamored male suitor. He "just happened to notice" that I was studying for contracts, and offered me the outline he had prepared the previous year. It was awesome. At first I thought he was just being nice and returing a favor someone had once done for him. But after looking at myself in the mirror, I have concluded he must have been trying to find a way to casually declare his love for me.

Now, being the engaged lady I am, I can't say that I was at all interested in the implied romantic offers of this outlining savior, but I also can't say that I'm not going to come to the library covered in baby oil and a tiny bikini to try to solicit more free outline offers.

So gentlemen, (and ladies too, I don't descriminate) look for me in the back by the Federal Supplements. I'll be the one rolling around on the study tables and glimmering like a goddess under the flourescent lights.

I've Got Issues

I've been in the library for 5 hours trying to come up with the issue statement for my research assignment. I am beginning to consider throwing myself out of the second story window behind me. (Maybe I should go up to the third floor, just in case?) Consider this:

Cases read & briefed: 15
Issue formatting Attempts: 40
Successes: 0.

And after hours of cerebral effort, the only issue I have is one of self loathing.

Thanks, law school.

Questions I Ask Myself Far Too Often:

1. How did that guy/girl get in to this school?
2. Wait...what did the professor just say?
3. Is it 2011 yet? Or at least Christmas break?
4. Where is my Federal Rules of Civil Procedure book?
5. Didn't we talk about this EXACT SAME THING in Torts last class?
6. Why can't there be another 'e' in judg(e)ment, and for that matter, why doesn't Word know any legal jargon?
7. Is there anything new on icanhascheezburger.com?
8. How can I coerce Taco Meat to cover up his goods?
9. On a scale from 1-10, how creepy is it for the people behind me when I stalk their Facebook profiles during class? (15? Thought so.)
10. Is my fly undone? (Yep...oops.)

Lost and Found

My Federal Rules of Civil Procedure book is missing, and I have suspicions.


Picture this:



A band of wild hobos ransacked my book stacks while I was perusing (read: crying in a corner of) the library. Most of the books looked to be a real snooze so these dirty vagrants (how did they get in to the library looking like that?) decided to move on. But alas, a bright red cover screamed for attention! And upon picking up this little red book, the hobos realised it was the most thrilling subject of all: A bunch of complicated rules enumerating the proper procedure for filing claims in Federal court. They couldn't believe their luck! And just before I returned to my table with a pile of West's Pacific Digest, they escaped. They set up a cardboard camp on the edge of some guy's property, and read one rule per night for the thirty years it took for them to claim adverse possession on the lands.


Or maybe even this:


Taco meat stumbled across my blog. After reading a particularly scathing post about his peeking chest hairs, he decided to exact revenge. He waited until I left my things unattended and then ran off with my FRCP book, chest hairs flapping in the wind. He wears it taped to his torso every time he wears a tank top (daily).


Or more likely, this:


My Civil Procedure book is buried in the depths of my closet, never to bee seen again despite my multiple search efforts.





Crap.

I'm Marrying a Hamster

After a long stretch in the library this afternoon, I found a picture of Pete on the internet:
Not even kidding. This is the spitting image of what I see every day when I come home from school. And I'm pretty sure that's his internal dialogue as well. (He's not a great speller)

Who knew I was engaged to a celebrity?