Bananas go to law school, too!


"Anna, enough with the lame lists and boring posts. Write something funny."

apologies, dear readers. unfortunately, law school has taken what little creativity I have in my brain and replaced it with marshmallow fluff. Marshmallow fluff that gets pangs of painful nostalgia for college every, you know, three minutes.

but aren't you having an amaaaaazing time in new york and law school?
fine. sorta.

new york is lovely, and exciting, and fascinating, and never boring. but sometimes baby just needs boring and ridiculous and peach beer at the distillery and then walking home, buzzed, to my big bed with pretty sheets and messy floor. BUT instead, i have to be content with an amazing view of manhattan, clean floor, high ceilings and a landlord who doesn't walk in on you in the shower.

law school - yes, there's a lot of work, yes a lot of reading and class alternates between being painfully boring and almost-crapping-your-pants-because-"no-professor-flipflops-i-do-not-know-the-answer-to-your-ridiculous-question." but that's not the worst of it, i don't think. it's just that's all everything anyone can talk about. it's not really like i'm this fabulous conversationalist who has a list of fabulous topics I'd rather be talking about. but, really, i'll talk about the merits of peppermint over spearmint gum before i want to talk about how so-and-so already has done a practice exam for crim with one other person.

in other news: marie & i made postsecrets this past weekend. They are SO awesome and had better be posted. but i'm not telling you what mine is, because then, clearly, it would no longer be a secret. BUT it's awesome, I can tell you that much and WILL link to the site if I get posted in the next few weeks (about 10 new postsecrets get posted every Sunday). keep your fingers crossed!!

i had a ridiculous nightmare last night that i can't post publicly about, really, but i woke up, quite literally, in tears, which i hadn't done in years.

i'm getting my hair highlighted tomorrow. i haven't quite figured out if i like the fact that i'm going back to selling out to the blonde hair gods, but we'll see how it goes. and LT bought me a camera, because i realized that i have NO pictures of any of my adventures, so i think i am going to promise that i will start taking pictures and posting them. because, for all you know, i could really just be living in detroit, in cardboard box, barefoot and pregnant with a pegleg, and making everything up in my craaaaazy mind. how's that hypothetical for ya?

"no anna, there's no way you're pregnant" thanks. take issue with that, of all things.


back in high school, when my bestie LF was queen of the world (senior class president), she had the ability to CHOOSE the senior prom song. incessently, i asked her to choose "Don't Stand So Close to Me" (no offense to my prom date, the very fabulous "Big Jim," as the kids liked to call him). of course, she didn't choose my suggestion (it ended up being the acoustic version of some popular-at-the-time-but-otherwise-forgetable Lifehouse song).

however, my wedding will feature said song (perhaps for the first dance, dare i be so bold!) and everyone will love it. and they will all say "my, what an ironic song choice. this couple sure is clever and witty." of course, the song choice would be much more lyrically-applicable if i had ended up marrying "soul mate #7.5," but, then again, so would another police favorite. the irony exists on just about 14 levels :)
list-making is more fun than property, shocking....

I was going to make a list of the ten songs I've been listening to recently. But then I realized that about 90% of the music I listen to no one else really likes, except KT, because it's sappy, dippy, romantic and all-together not "cool." BUT THE OTHER 10% ROCKS. So, here are the two lists, one for KT :) and the other for everyone else.

KT's List
1. Semisonic: Secret Smile (EVERYONE should listen to this song and fall in love with it. It's sappy, and has a bit [lot] of saccharine to it, but it's just too sweet not to lovelovelove).
2. Carla Bruni: Raphael (lovelovelove her)
3. David Gray: Nos Da Cariad (lovelovelove his new album)
4. Elliott Smith: Waltz #2 (this song hooked me on ES years ago, and I just re-discovered it)
5. Matt Nathanson: Weight of the Earth
6. The Fray: Dead Wrong (just discovered this band a couple days ago. they're currently singing me to sleep at night)
7. Ben Lee: Apple Candy (lovelovelove him)
8. Tom McCrae: Streetlight (I listened to this song on repeat my first 8 days here. And I still don't hate it, so it clearly means it's something special)
9. Joseph Arthur: Honey and the Moon
10. Ray Lamontagne: Jolene (JS got me hooked on this character, thumbs up)
11. David Mead: Nashville

And now, for something completely different:
1. Bloc Party: The Present (when TG & LW went to see these guys, and I was sad because I wasn't invited to the "Block Party" in Boston, I realized that I was horribly out of the loop)
2. Eisley: One Day I Slowly Floated Away (she kinda sounds like a nymph. and I kinda like that).
3. The Duece Project: Stone Cold
4. Modest Mouse: Bukowski
5. The Killers: Under the Gun (sometimes I think to myself "is it possible to like The Killers more than I already do?" and then I listen to another song randomly by them and realize the answer is a resounding "oh my word, yes yes yes!")
6. The Good Life: A Dim Entrance (EF gets my undying adoration for introducing me to these guys)
7. Neutral Milk Hotel: In the Aeroplane Over the Sea (this song makes me think of jamming out with MD & JS in the car some cold, snowy day in January. lovelovelove)
8. DCFC: We Laugh Indoors
9. Simon & Garfunkle: The Only Living Boy in New York
10. Tegan & Sara: You Wouldn't Like Me (yes, a little emo-high-school-ish, but I brush my hair to this song in the morning, so it's clearly special)
11. Belle & Sebastian: I'm a Cuckoo (ten points to MT for telling me about these lovely sounds)


So last Saturday, Marie, Francesca and I went to a club - China Club - thinking that it would be an all-over good time. In the six hours we were out SO MUCH HAPPENED. There's this whole side-story that Marie has in her blog about me losing my purse, fate and affirmations. And it's creepy and still gives me chills thinking about it. So, in an effort to keep it all special and lovely in my head, I'm not going to try to explain anything about it. But if you ask me, I'll tell the story, but I just can't type it out and give it justice.

Which brings me to side-point number one: you jerkstores who IM me and tell me that "you love my blog" and think that this somehow recuses you from calling me and catching up. NO NO NO. There are at least six of you out there who I haven't heard from in two weeks (outside of aforementioned IM) and READING ABOUT MY FAKE LIFE ON MY IMAGINARY BLOG does not a friendship maintain. So, do lonely-anna-overwhelmed-in-a-city-all-alone a favor and give me a call and make me feel like I actually have friends who love me. Becuase I know you love me. That clearly goes without saying :)

Back to Saturday. So, Francesca left early (which, looking back, may have been the way to go). Marie & I danced like ROCKSTARS and, clearly, rockstar dancing attracts plenty of big, sweaty men. Men who do not know how to dance. Or, think that dancing is little more than sticking your hairy palm down my pants. WHICH DOESN'T COUNT. By midnight, Marie & I were seperated and surrounded by at least four guys who acted as if they had never seen fine booty like ours. It was around this time where I lost my purse, had a baby panic attack, ate a street vendor pretzel and went back to the club with renewed spirit (barebones recount of purse drama. which, as previously stated, doesn't even begin to describe the awesomeness of that experience). Of course, renewed spririt was promptly squashed with Eurotrash boob-grabbing.

Here's the irony

Remember the "Night at the Roxbury" sketch on SNL with the two awkward dudes humping unsuspecting females? You want to know where that sketch was set? That's right.

China Club.


so, in an effort to give myself motivation to continue focusing on law school, i decided to make a list of things that i want out of life. once i got to "unlimited shamrock shakes," without once mentioning anything law-related, i decided that this was an exercise in futility.

entering phase two of law school: token exsistential crisis.


Three reasons why you should be jealous of me, weekend edition:

1. My body hair grows more slowly than yours, ladies (and I'll assume boys, too). It takes me two weeks to get stubble. Haha, "daily shavers."

2. I'm (a) quick to get drunk, (b) slow to get sick. Only once, all my life, did I get sick and I'm still contesting it because it was my 21st birthday and if i don't remember it, it didn't happen. AND I took shots of whiskey instead of girly shots because apparently, when I'm drunk, I fancy myself a sailor. Now, refer again to 2(a).

3. I have the best idea for a tatoo (Marie and Jill agree) and people's reaction to the idea (cough cough Marie and Jill are awesome) I think indicates SO MUCH about their thoughts about love, fate and other important things. But I won't put it here because, in the same way, people judge ME on those same qualities when I say it, so I'm careful with whom I share.


AH! We went to fabulous fashion show.

and we finally met guys who can fill the void of "token gay best friend." One was named Brandon and the other was named Johnathan. (CLEARLY my favorite is Brandon ;-)) They are both "performers," which I think means that they are male exotic dancers but they CLAIM that they are musical theatre people. They made fun of me for smiling awkwardly in all situations, but they were wearing very tight shirts.
My favorite moment from the night was when Brandon refered to this stupid cooter as "that fat bitch" which was EXACTLY what marie and i were thinking but didn't want to fess up to the fact that we are, in some instances, petty girls.

Now, question: did we actually get to see the fashion show? HELL NO! cigarettes and chitchat are (sometimes) more important than men in underwear.


so when i woke up this morning my jaw hurt like a mofo. Just the lower right side, which I thought was TELL-TALE sign that I had lockjaw. I called my daddy at work and was like I HAVE THE LOCKJAW AND I AM GOING TO DIE, ALONE IN NEW YORK. To which he replied, no, take some advil. Which is his response to EVERY ailment I've ever had in my entire life. There was a two year period where I would faint like every two weeks, awkardly, and in public. My dad told me to start taking advil. AND IT WORKED. And now I only faint semi-awkwardly and at home. In any event, I think it has more to do with the fact that I (kinda) (maybe) blow things out of proportion (sometimes) and advil is amazing and tastes like skittles.

In any event, I took some advil and now have full motion (pain free) of my jaw, which I think is a giant step forward. I have a deep, sinking suspicion that it's Wisdom Tooth #3 coming in, and it might give me a little more trouble that WT #1 & 2. But, the only solution (no, not taking them out) is to take more advil.


last night, marie, ian, greg & i debated the merits (and existance) of a midnight cake-delivery company.

we really wanted some cake.
i miss disafilliating junior year with jenni and merissa.
i love those girls, and i miss them



not to turn this into a psuedo-seinfeld blog, but

So, in an effort to make my sack of cheapo burritos more palatable (I do, however, always find it a good sign that my dinner costs less than a stamp) I decided to get some delicious tabsasco sauce. Of course, since everything in Manhattan is ridiculously expensive, I decided I was not going to spend 5 dollars on a tiny bottle of tabasco. However, nestled in the corner of the tabsasco display was a small bottle of "hey, at least it's red!" -type hot sauce. Also, it claimed New Orleans heritage, so deciding that this would be my GOOD DEED of the day, I bought it, saving myself 3 dollars and 51 cents in the process.
So I got home and microwaved 26 cents-worth of buritto and was MOST EXCITED to douse it with my delicious new elixer.
When I try however, to make my little pool of hot sauce for my buritto to bathe in, I was RUDELY awakened that the three and a half bucks that goes to Tabasco is NOT for a superior hot sauce but for a BOTTLE THAT ACTUALLY WORKS. Normally, hot sauce, when shaken up and down vigorously will, to some extent "pour" itself. OH NO. Cheap hot sauce, no matter how hard you shake it will only dispense ONE PALTRY DROP at a time. seriously, folks.
Unfortunatly, I am left with only a moderately hot burrito and tennis elbow.
so i finally figure out how to change the settings so that ANYONE can leave comments, not just people who have an account here, and i quickly recieve notification of FABULOUS AND AMAZING porn site.
god bless the internet
Seriously folks...
So I live on the 20th floor of my building. And usually, it's pretty packed getting on the elevator in the lobby and then by the time I get to my floor it's usually just me. HOWEVER, around the 16th floor, or so, it empties out so it's usually just me and one other person. And, this last week, whoever that person may be has refused to move to the side. Maybe it's just me, and this isn't a social convention most people should possess, but if I didn't have some fear-of-elevators-induced penchant for standing in the corners of elevators and COULD move to the side, God knows I would. but seriously.....spread out so that you and your canned-corn-scented breath can get out of my zone of personal space.

-angry in elevatorsville.