Property is, believe it or not, kicking my ass. But, according to "everyone" I just need to join the club. That's what happens when you cram 5 credits in one semester and future interests in two days. A swift kick to the ass.

But THAT'S OKAY. Because my birthday was lovely. Lovely phone calls/emails/texts/UBIQUITOUS FACEBOOK WALL POSTS made for a day peppered would good tidings. And, speaking of good tidings...
Marie and Maria and Greg gifted me the new Post Secret book. Which is would be 100% perfect awesomeness IF NOT FOR the fact that neither Marie nor my Postsecrets were published. This can only mean one thing: it's high time to do ridiculous shit and make postcards about it.
Good Tiding Number Two: Jimbo gave me two tickets to see Spamalot in February. Super excited about his super-generous/thoughtfulness and details about said "Spamalot" will follow in three months, assuming that I am still keeping up the charade known as "blogging" as "bananaesq."

In an effort NOT to do property, I signed up for NetFlicks. I am excited about this because, as I was doing recommendations, I have realized that I have seen no more than 20 movies in my life. So I better get cracking on it. And there's no better time to start watching movies like finals month. I am EVER the most timely of all procrastinators.

Speaking of which, it is HIGH TIME I get back to work. Tooodles!

Uh oh, Justin "I gots to play more super NES" Barnes is the smartest of the family children. And that, by the transitive property (as being brought up as the Stupid Twin), means that I am the stupidest child :)

Stealing an idea from Roommate-Marie, a little birthday list, recounting the past twenty-two years.

Year 1: I hung out with Michael in an incubator, plotting our plans of world domination. Quickly foiled by Jaundor the Yellow Menace and the Attack of the Fingers in the Electrical Socket.
Year 2: Moved to America-land. Promptly began stealing my brother's pacfiers in an attempt to embrace American individualism. Could not pull self up by bootstraps as did not own boots with straps.
Year 3: Loved & lost Francesca. No quip to be made.
Year 4: Anna & Michael go to kindergarten at public school.
Year 5: "Ew!" says Mom & Dad. Sent to Catholic school, complete with nuns.
Year 6: Got puppy, named it Banjoy. It grew taller than twinnie and I. Was very destructive and/or violent. Suddenly, Banjo "ran away." Parents kept up this rouse for 15 years, then "mentioned" that no, Banjo was sold to Cruella de Ville (my version) or given to the animal shelter (parent's version).
Year 7: Moved to Chicago. And so begins 8 years of social awkwardnes the likes of which the Midwest n'er had dreamed, pioneered by twinnie & myself.
Year 8: Went to Italy. Cousin Allegra & I had Men Of Great Importance of the Villaige of San Benedetto row out on a boat to save us, thinking we were drowning. Upon reaching the shore, the game "Lifeguard" was no longer allowed in the Adriatic Sea.
Year 9: Got another puppy, named it Shakespeare. Shakespeare was quite dumb and walked into glass doors. People began giving me funny looks when I would exclaim in public, "Shakespeare dropped a duece on the rug this morning!"
Year 10: Fell in love with my sixth grade teacher. And so begins my infallible ability to fall in love with men in power positions, even those that have David Bowie posters in their office. Justin also arrives in the world. Begin to invent ridiculous accent to quote him. Ten years later, Sara reminds me "He does NOT sounds like that."
Year 11: Started Jr. High. Also known as the Dark Ages.
Year 12: First boyfriend. Boyfriend buys me a Starbucks lemon square as a sign of undying love. "Best Friend" begins making out with Boyfriend. ANGRY BANANA. Have not consumed lemon square since.
Year 13: In my first and only act of defiance and/or rebellion, joined swim team instead of tennis team, much to my father's chagrin. DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH WE SPENT ON TENNIS CAMP!??!?!
Year 14: Fell in love with my physics teacher. No David Bowie poster, so slightly more socially acceptable.
Year 15: Began working at Boston Market or "BoMar" as the cool kids call it. Told self I WILL NEVER WORK IN FOOD SERVICE AGAIN. Six years later, still waitressing.
Year 16: Last year of competitive swimming. Told Jill "This will be the most in-shape I will ever be in my entire life." Haven't proved self wrong yet.
Year 17: Freshman year of college. Did crew, was a bio major, took upper-level calculus, got mono, strep & tosilites (twice) first semester. Almost failed out. Joined a sorority, changed to a humanities major, began drinking more heavily. Got straight As.
Year 18: Became legal. College nickname "jail bait" becomes slightly less applicable.
Year 19: Sould my soul to the Panhellenic devil and began three-year reign as Panhellenic Recruitment Chiar. Will go down in history books as Reign of Terror or Golden Age, depending on which sorority you ask.
Year 20: Spent summer days/evenings in Michigan being called an "F-ing idiot" and having plates thrown at my head by my boss. Spent summer nights on beach. Comes up a draw.
Year 21: Changed residency from 83 Ridge Road, North Attelborough, Mass to actual residency of Park Ridge. Started law school.
Year 22: So far, have checked email, drank coffee, studied Property. Start strong.

Siggghhhhhh. Thanksgiving weekend is drawing to a close. This is always the point in my life where I declare "I want to stay in Chicago forever and have MUCH FUN." And then I think back to this past summer (of doom) and promptly change my mind. But still, it's going to be a struggle to go back with anything more than quiet dread of FINALS! and no more free food.

Last night Jill, Katie, Ian & I had a good time enjoying what the ridiculous parts of Chicago have to offer. Everyone but Ian (God bless his DD heart) consumed a trifecta of deliciousness (two pitchers, a bottle of wine and a few mixed drinks) which could only result in one thing at Moretti's on KAREEEEOOOOKKKKEEE Saturday. Kareoke. Where we all tripled out previous records by singing three songs (Little Mermaid, I Just Died in Your Arms Tonight and, the classic kareoke stand-by for the classy broads, Like a Prayer).

And, my boyfriend, Kareoke Terry was running it again. You may remember Kareoke Terry from such episodes as Anna Filling Out Job Applications to Work for Kareoke Terry (drunk) and Anna Does A Duet With Kareoke Terry from over the summer. And Kareoke Terry was complete with his golden flowing locks tied back in a ponytail that only men who run kareoke for trashy bars can pull off with his special brand of flair, gusto and good looks.

After the bar closed, I paid for Ian to CLEAN OUT [read: buy two packs] the White Hen of Wonka Cakes so I could buy a pack of super-cheap cigarettes (unlike NYC). Then we each had a taste of Ian's purple Wonka Cake. Oh, so clever and lewd, am I!

We went to Katie's and watched Jerry Mcguire where everyone shaked a collective angry fist at the psychosis that has become of our lovely Tom Cruise. I also spilled two beers on my pants. But did not the pee them.

When I grow up, I want to be a lawyer and a writer. I want to be a lawyer because I think it will be fun. I want to be a writer because I like to write. Because I want to be a lawyer, I wrote a case and how I think it will turn out. Because I want to be a writer, I wrote a story. I will now pass these out. I hope you like my stories.

AnnaBanana, circa 1991, class presentation.

My mom was cleaning out a box of old school papers and found this. If this were a movie, I would now have new-found motivation to outline and study for finals. Alas, my life is not such a movie and I just want to drink hot chocolate and eat those little tiny 15 cent brownie-cookies from Starbucks.

But still, it's funny how I still want to be exactly those same things, both of them, when I grow up. And, really, for pretty much just as sophisticated reasons.

Nothing says FRIDAY FRIDAY FRIDAY like property outling.

But, nothing says hilarious "poetry" and photography like A Softer World.

I enjoy most every week, but this week was particularly hilarious and decided to share with "my people." Enjoy!

www.asofterworld.com

Smackdown at Pompeii

Instead of venturing out into the crowds of shoppers, the fam nerded it up and went to - the Museum! There was an exhibit about Pompeii - which was the first and last time the T-family actually stole some lava rocks from the streets BECAUSE THEY WERE THERE. And YES we know that it's in "poor taste" to see things from historical/natural preserves. But such is life when you have to act the part of the Ugly American. Which is our M.O. when we visit across the pond. Still, the museum was, I think, head and shoulders above elbowing old ladies for toasters and sheet sets. And I thought that I could escape from all violent escapades. But NO. Someone was cranky after trypto-coma.

We're in the first room of the exhibit and you hear this loud man's voice exclaim
"NO!! You have to WAIT YOUR TURN. JUST WAIT YOUR TURN."
Michael and I just thought that it was some exasperated father yelling at his snotty child. But, upon looking over, everyone in the room realized that this was a grown man yelling at another almost-grown man (an oafish, awkward lower-20s type of guy).
"Sir, I said excuse me, I couldn't see"
"NO! No one has ever taught you any manners!!! You must wait your turn. BUT GO AHEAD. You are so rude. YOU ARE SO RUDE."
Angry-pants walks over to his wife, and continues
"That man has NO MANNERS. He needs to WAIT HIS TURN"
[this, of course, is all done loud enough so that it was clear that he wasn't really talking to his wife as much as the entire room so as to publicly humiliate the other guy]
His wife responds:
"Well, YOU JUST LET HIM DO THAT. Because SOME PARENTS don't teach their children manners. THAT IS SO RUDE."

And all the while the other guys was just standing there, half in disbelief and the other half trying to remember if he knew how to duck a punch in case this came to blows. And, yes, I meant to say "duck a punch" instead of "throwing a punch." Because this guy was classic Yes-I-Know-I'm-Tall-But-I'm-Still-Bad-At-Basketball-And-MOST-THINGS.

So the wife and the husband leave the room and the rest of the room makes a mental note NOT to so much as breathe too close to any other person in prevention of Angry Outburst #2.

Once out of earshot, I whisper to Michael
And Happy Thanksgiving to you too.

oh, trytophan coma starts now.

Thanksgiving has been most lovely - warm and delicious.
Last night I went to Jill's new place in Logan Square in the city. We hung out with a whole bunch of people who I think I can officially call "hipsters," however outdated that term might be. Why "officially"? Well, we played a rousing game of Think While You Drink (which I just learned on Monday night) - a catergory of choice: Post Modern Authors.
Sweet sassy molassy.
But it was great fun, all around. Gotta say, though, the L ride home at 9 this morning, still drunk, was one of those POKE ME IN THE EYE WITH A TURKEY LEG experiences. But of course, it was worth it :)

And today, in another chapter of Ridiculous Feats of Consumption:
Instant Backyard Fun Starts With Our Snow Castle!

A real snow castle would take hours to build and require lots of snow. But we designed our exclusive heavy-duty vinyl Snow Castle to set up almost anywhere in just minutes with the included electric pump. Much more than just a snow fort, our castle encourages children to use their imaginations while having fun for hours on end. Four flags included.


Would you really pay 130 dollars to let your lazy children play in a fake blow-up snow castle? But it encourages imagination. I AM VINELOR THE COLD AND YOU HAVE ENTERED MY VINYL CASTLE OF DOOM AND DESTRUCTION.

As this week marks the lovely holiday season I thought that I would give you, dear readers, a little something. As it is the season of giving. I give you a Gift Idea. We all know a friend who has a dog. And what do you give to bestow holiday cheer for your friend and her canine companion?

Humunga Tongue

I kid you not, actual product (courtesy of AirMall, United Airlines). The best part, I think is the explanation behind the name. And the very last line is classic. Observe:

Imagine the fun you'll have at the park when you and your favorite pooch play with Humunga Tongue (named after humongous which is slang for very large). [emphasis added] Made of non-toxic natural rubber, it's actually a ball with a long fake tongue attached. Just throw it; when your dog retrieves Humunga Tongue, giggles are sure to follow. Measures 8" long.

:) order now, supplies are limited.

Oh, you want ridiculous "drunk law students stories."

I was it.

And, therefore, you will not be hearing any details. Because I can make biting comments re: others, but I am not fair game for myself. Wierd how that works out.

How will I make it to class in six hours? I JUST DON'T KNOW.

But am I excited to wear sweatpants to Torts tomorrow? Oh heck yes.

Literally speaking, I am going to CHICAGOOOO today. This is a thing Most Good.

Oh, we handed in our Long Memo (of doom) today. The most remarkable point of which is that our TA cut his har into a short buzz cut. Before, it had been an "interesting" side part long hair "coif." Therefore, he looked much better than usual. Upon entering Contracts, I remarked to my friends (who, as of this writing have thrown me into a cab two times more than should be socially acceptable) "hehe, i guess he got the memo!" re: the fact that we had all mentioned that he would be a far better-looking person if not for the unfortunate situation of his side part. But now that is fixed. AND DID ANYONE ELSE GET THE VERY CLEVER PUN?!? I really am a comedic genius, I'm not gonna lie.

I wonder if having my laptop on my lap will prevent me from having babies when babies become things that I want. I hope I never have to look back on tonight, blame the laptop of all things, and shake an angry fist.

Reasons Why I Can't WAIT to Go Back to Chicago

1. the fam
2. Jill & Katie :)
3. Jill living in the city
4. Everything being cheaper, including developing film. I still have a roll of Meliora Weekend film that I am not ready to spend an extra six dollars more than Illinois to develop. So I'm waiting until Tuesday. But you can see preliminary stolen photos here.
5. It's supposed to snow on Wednesday. Which means that I can be there for the falling of it/enjoying of it, without having to witness the muddying of it. Oh, it snows in NYC, you say? I know. But not yet, so I'll pretend that it doesn't exist until it is here.
6. The memo will be over. And finals will be fast-approaching. Which means that I can do work at the kitchen table, just like six years ago.
7. I am out of coffee here (who knew I could actually average 7 cups a day?). So I will be able to steal some from home.
8. WE HAVE WIRELESS INTERNET IN OUR HOUSE. My parents JUST entered the 21st century, which means that they stepped up from dial-up AOL. Thank goodness.
9. Kinda like 7, but free meals cooked by my mother are something of a "step up" from eating only from places with the word "box" in the title.
10. UM, THANKSGIVING is one of my most favorite holidays :)

Ten is enough. Which is what I just said about my memo re: pages. Also because 10 is the page limit, but that is no matter :)

Speaking of the memo, I am a handful of citations away from being done and, with it, my first semester legal writing class. Wooo! Impending Doom of finals ALSO means that we are almost half-way done with our first year of law school which, depending on who you ask, is The Only Thing That Counts. So, really, to be almost half-way done is a pretty cool feeling. Of course, this implies that
a) I make it through finals alive
b) I do not fail out
c) I do not do really really badly (because someone told me that b) has never actually happened at this school).

I wish I had a funny story to tell but, alas, I have been a pretty boring soul recently. However, tomorrow is the all-school-bar-night in celebration of long memo being done & other such festivities. In other words, drunk law students. Will promise to be a night of great fun and great hilarity - some accounts of which will inevitably end up in yee olde bloge. So just sit tight :)

law school is ruining my life.
i'm actually in a really good mood right now but, objectively, above statement is still true. Why, you ask? I'm missing out of, arguably, Two Great Things this weekend because of the memo.

1. Elton John is throwing Pete a birthday party tonight and I was supposed to go.
2. Marie & I are going to be filmed for a movie tomorrow.

Both of those would, for sake of "clarity" and "truth value" might tend to warrant some sort of explanation. But it's much more fun this way. Because both of those statements are 100% true. On a 1000% scale. No, really, they're true. They're true the way a lawyer would say they're true. Thaaaaaat's right, that's how I'll put it (and everything I'll ever say for the rest of my life).

Unfortunately, these fun events, more-likely-than-not, will NOT be happening. Sad, depressed, self-loathing face.

edit: no, we were not going to be extras on a movie. better than that - hypothetically having speaking lines.

Today, arguably, was a day Most Ungood. For various reasons. I fainted in my room (not in public! 10 points for me) and thereby missed crim. Upon regaining consciousness, I wallowed in my own low-blood-pressure-crapulance and then went to a lecture on exam-taking strategies that was mildly helpful. But not really, because what can they ever say other than Outline! Read! Study! Thanks for the advice, much appreciated.

Then something else happened that I cannot discuss herein this blog of yee olde publik domain. But, if you're even somewhat in my inner circle, I'll tell you and then you'll be like "yeah, that does suck."

However, silver lining (there always is one!) is that I feel less guilty about saying something bitchy two weeks ago (and again last night) because, even if they weren't true (but they were), such bitchy things should be said regardless.

Alright, vague parade is over. Back to the long memo parade :)

Long memo due in five days. Awesome. And objectively, this assignment might not seem to be such a, how do you say…., bitch. Back in the day, I used to scoff at the concept of a 10-page paper and load myself of red bull and coffee in CLARC starting at 2am before it was due. Unfortunately, such work ethic doesn't fly in "law school" and I, and everyone else, has been working on it non-stop for the past week or so. Of course, that would be fine except for Finals, Job Search and Class. All four balls I cannot juggle and I find myself having baby-freak-outs every now and then. But everyone else is on the S.S. Law School so I best stop complaining and buckle down.

Even though complaining is Fun, Helpful and Most Good.

I talked to Jenni last night, who is getting ready for her third knee surgery is far too short of a time. All because of a Freak Rugby Accident in our ill-conceived and much-maligned stint as world-class rugby players. Which, for me, lasted one day and, for Jenni, lasted for all of one play. Where she came down and tore her ACL. BEFORE signing the University liability release policy.

As Jenni was lying on the ground, writhing in paid, He Who Shall Remain Nameless (shut up, I like being dramatic. And I am afforded such dramatic license, what with this being MY BLOG and all), runs over, pen in hand, and has her sign the liability release form before attending to her knee that had been forcibly torn from her ligaments. Unfortunately, the statute of limitations for torting his ass will run by the time that Jenni & I graduate law school. Even though that would SO be the best thing ever. I kid. I kid. I kid. And that means you, Mike (not twinnie) NEED NOT run and tell H.W.S.R.N. that I am spewing venom on my ridiculous blog about him. Because I kid, I kid. But sometimes venom needs spewing.

Tonight I learned the following items:

1. Professor Who Shall Remain Nameless is mildly gender/relgious/race/enthno-centric. And WRONG about tenancy-for-years. This will be taken out in three[?] days, so take DUE NOTICE.
2. Someone Who Shall Also Remain Nameless will owe me 5 dollars in two years.
3. My copy of Runaway Jury freezes at the very last scene, right before reading the verdict. What a let down, especially when you have class in 3 hours.

Look! I'm a blog-person!

I usually don't do the whole link-and-then-commentary gimmick. But this is hilarious. And 100% real. Perhaps it's the reason I'm going to law school - to get elected to state legislature and pass Bills of Great Importance like this. And get paid for watching Napolean Dynamite for 10 hours under the guise of revising the bill.

Woohoo! The hard drive that Dell sent me is, officially, more than twice as big as my original, now-defunct, one. The silver lining to this tragedy is becoming thicker :)

Grabbed beers with Christina after another marathon study day/night at the library and it was MOST GOOD.

Except, for the second time this semester, my purse got stolen. And, for the second time this semester, I found my purse by the grace of fate and the Baby Jesus. You think I'm joking, but I'm not. We were sitting at the bar drinking our delicious brews and I had placed my purse in the crevice of the barchair. It had slipped down without my noticing, but I DID notice a character bend down right next to my chair and quickly walk out of the bar. I found this curious, but didn't think about it until I realized that MY PURSE WAS NO WHERE TO BE FOUND. Of course, I didn't have anything in my purse except chapstick, my school ID and my state ID. My credit card was with the bartender, and I don't travel with cash. Except for a handful of change for my random, but inevitable, Cooler Ranch Doritos craving. However, yee olde state ID CANNOT BE LOST because I recently have "misplaced" my birth certificate. And, being born on a farm in Poland, it's hard to "just stop by" the town hall and pick up a copy. And, Illinois being a bitch, you can't get a State ID (cough cough, no driver's license) without a birth certificate. One more tiny bit of motivation to get my driver's license.

And so begins baby panic attack NUMBER TWO of the past week. Because, in addition to having no hard drive I HAVE NO IDENTITY.

A gentleman by the name of "Eric" comes to our aid. "Eric" bears a striking resemblence to "Chuck" (yes, that Chuck), what with the bald head, short stature, and 11-year-old son in tow. Strike the son part, he left his son at home with his parents, clearly. Anyway, "Eric" made a very valid point about, since I had NOTHING of value to any would-be thief, he would probably have just dropped it on the ground instead of carrying around a tiny black purse all night. Therefore, a police report might actually help.

I borrowed Christina's cell and walked outside to make the call. As I walked outside, I saw a waitress with my purse in her hand and almost had a heart attack right there. She pointed out the "kindly gentleman" who had given it to her. Which I SWEAR was the dude who had earlier been squatting up on my barchair.

In order to make things as awkward as possible, I went over to him and THANK YOU SOOO MUCH, I REALLY CAN'T TELL YOU HOW APPRECIATIVE I AM, THANK YOU. And the would-be thief seemed positively uncomfortable. Because that's what I do best, make people uncomfortable. High-five.

Woohoo! New hard drive has been installed in my computer. No, I wasn't able to retrieve any of my old stuff, but I'm moving on with my life and, hopefully, come February and the release of first semester grades I won't be regretting this whole "continuing on with law school" concept. Though let it be noted that I will blame any poor grades on this incident, regardless of the fact(?) that it probably won't have that big of an effect. Knock on wood, crossing my fingers.

I installed my new hard drive ALL BY MYSELF, complete with screw driver usage. This can only mean one thing: I am a closet computer nerd. And you are reading my blog! Sucker!

You know what "degree" looks like? DeeGee. The girls are initiating tonight (oh! secret's out. Oh well, pledgies are quarantined tonight, so it's Highly Unlikely they will have internet access, much less read this. But if they do, ten points for utilizing your pledgie wiles. Well done.) Not gonna lie, initiation is one of the many things I don't miss from the DeltaGee. :) Even though I cry during A Certain Part every year. BEST FRIENDS 4EVER (joke. ha.)

I was in line as CVS this evening wearing my Maine South Football State Champs t-shirt (because, let's be serious, what's cooler than a law student wearing a high school football shirt? I can't think of anything). There was a middle-aged couple behind me - and the husband read out loud "Maine South High School." I turned around and gave him a wierd look, because that's a wierd thing to do, not gonna lie. Then I heard him say "That's wear [unitelligable] went to high school." Upon realizing that they were, in fact, not entirely insane, I asked if they had heard about Maine South (I do realize that the man's previous statement clearly meant that they had, but give me a break). To which he responds "Yeah, we're from Naperville." I start blabbering about Maine South, football, high school, college and they look at me like I AM THE CRAZY ONE. Apparently, Illinois couple is good enough to read my t-shirt out loud but too cool to actually make conversation. I have officially met my first unfriendly Midwesterner. Wierd.

Will be spending the rest of this Friday night in the library. Who brought the cool kid?

BAD THING
last night, randomly, my computer froze up. I rebooted and then my computer PRETENDED THERE WAS NO HARD DRIVE WHATSOEVER. Called Dell. Was on phone with them for three hours when they said, all proud of themselves, that they would send me a new hard drive for FREE. Thank you. I really appreciate that. But what I would appreciate more is a computer WITH my notes/outlines/research ON IT rather than NOT ON IT.

Can I run a re-boot CD? No, because re-booting, apparently necessitates a "hard" "drive."

Did you back up your files? Please, that would take "planning" and "forethought," two things I do not pretend to concern myself with. Until today, where my PSA of the day is: BACK UP YOUR FILES.

Funniest thing of the experience: I call my brother around 3am because, as per our twin "roles" he was always good at fixing computer things and I was always good at fixing dinner; even though neither of these particular generalizations were particularly apt. Regardless, I text message him "MY ENTIRE HARD DRIVE WAS LOST" to which he responds "Who is this?" Which I sat on the floor of our living room for 2 minutes and laughed like a crazy person (this, after I was pacing down the hall for 30 minutes -literally- half-hyperventilating, half-bawling). I just thought it was hilarious that my brother had so many Anna's in his cell phone that would text him in the middle of the night about computer problems. Still, we got my identity sorted out and he was calming and helpful.

More than one person has said that I was "taking it particularly well." Of course, no one saw my little "crazy show" last night. But then again, in the grand scheme of "If your computer is going to crash" moments, I'd rather it be now than the day before the long memo was due or closer to finals. And, thanks to the goodwill of my classmates (no, really, they're good people), many have offered class notes and I know that I can re-do my outlining efforts. So, even though I did seriously consider it last night, I will NOT be dropping out of law school.

I just talked to Mike [not twinnie] and, apparently, my whole scam of "my laptop can double as an mp3 player" shamo may be partly to blame. I would leave my laptop on from class to library and listen to music while it was in my bag. Apparently, this is not a Good Thing. So that's another PSA - be careful with your precious laptop and at least put it in sleep mode when you are carting it around the NYC.

Oh Law School. Once November reared its ugly head, you could feel a change in the air. Between the long memo, finals & job search stuff, most people have suddenly realized they need to Focus. So, unfortunately, my Bloggo has been put on the back burner. That, and the fact that Nothing Happens in my life has really made my updating has become something of a futile task.

I can tell you how I really like turkey sandwhiches and have eaten one for every single meal the last three days. With lots of mustard.

Or I could tell you how I am almost done with my Bonus 15 Cups tub o' coffee grounds because I've been drinking three pots a day. Which means I have to dish out another 10 bucks for a 10 pounds of coffee because it's of such [high?] quality.

But all those things would be boring. Then I was going to tell a story from my Past. But I don't want to. Because, like most things I do, my stories are usually long-winded and have no point. And, although I'm sure you'd love to listen to me tell such a story, they inevitably get long-winded, pointless and, as an added bonus, have no entertaing value when I try to write them down.

So then I was all set to mimick a friend's "Xanga Hate Blog" and just bitch about things/people. But, unfortunately, everyone worth complaining about might end up reading the post and then my passive-agressive thoughts/feelings would be overtly-agressive, and that's no fun.

So The Unfortunate thing is, I have nothing to write about. So this is an entirely pointless post. Stanky Face isn't at the library to bother, I haven't gotten drunk enough to eat mustard sandwiches off the floor and somesault on top of pledges [not that that ever happened] and the most exciting thing that has happened in the last few days is my purchasing new highlighters.

Apologies, dear readers. Maybe if you would be more interesting and do silly things that I could then write about, then I would have something to say. But, alas, everyone else is as Oh My Word Finals Are Coming Up - boring as I am.

you learn something new
every day

i always thought the so-called "ticky question" that starts out: If a tree falls in a forest....
Was: If a tree falls in a forest, and there's no one there to see it, did it really fall?

I spent a good portion of my adult life thinking I was the smartest human in the world. Because, yes, by evidenced by the first part of the sentance, the tree really did fall.

I was informed that no, [idiot], it's If a tree falls in a forest, and there's no one there to hear it, did it make a sound?

Much trickier.

Best night ever at the library.

Okay, so it's Saturday night. Shit happens in the life of a law student, and Saturday night studying sometimes is it. Regardless, this may go down as one of the best Saturday nights ever.

Maybe not. But best Saturday night spent at the library? Oh, heck yes.

Emily & Cait are sitting at the table behind me and there's maybe 20 other people here. So Emily & I are IMing each other and being our hilarious selves. Now, through four years of having to say "Do you trust your sisters?" with a straight face, I'm pretty good at NOT laughing out loud when inside I'm cracking up (Emily got me only once today). Emily, however, not so lucky. And Cait, well that's a whole 'nother story. In any event, I get up at one point to show Emily the IRONY that a book in our law school library entitled "The 107 Best Law Schools" does NOT include our school. And there's this girl at the other table who turns around, slowly, and gives the two of us what I term as "ugly face" (dirty look). FINE. Stanky girl.

So I go back to my seat. Meanwhile, the unlucky two that are Emily & Cait continue to make each other laugh. At which Stanky Girl closes up her property book with more venom than I've seen, like, ever. She picks up her things and walks behind me (in front of Cait & Emily) and mouths "Bitch" to Cait. Which makes Cait laugh in her face. Which is, really, the only polite response. Then Stanky Girl straight does the "menyanyanya" face everyone learned in second grade. Clearly, this made Cait laugh harder.

So as Stanky Girl is sitting, alone, at her table of rage, she PUTS HER FINGERS IN HER EARS. Like she's four. Of course, in order to flip the page of her book, she has to take her fingers out of her ears. Of course, she quickly replaces them for FEAR of the sounds of laughter and/or happiness to infiltrate her pale-faced, black-turtleneck-filled world.

What does this entire episode do? Yes, Cait & Emily laugh harder. So much so, that Cait, literally, (and not in the way Mark Twain used the word) falls out of her seat. Emilio claps for having witnessed the show that is a HUMAN BEING FALLING OUT OF THEIR SEAT IN THE LIBRARY. So Cait and Emily leave the library becuase, otherwise, they will be even more "disruptive" than we've all already been. As they walk out...

Stanky Girl lifts her entire arm. Middle finger exposed. And, in a sweep around her head like cowboy swinging his lasso of HATE AND BITTERNESS, flicks off Cait & Emily as they walk out. All of this, clearly, forces Cait to throw up (a tiny bit, in her mouth, you know) in the hallway.

Lessons learned:
*We have five weeks until finals. This can only mean that people will be more strung out and more irritable. Fun!
*Invest in a pair of headphones. Everyone here is loud. Get over it.
*If you're NOT going to spend money for headphones, why are you studying in the biggest and most popular room in the libary. There are soundproof rooms. There are cubicles in the stacks. Don't be a fool.
*It's midnight on Saturday night. Lighten up.

Now, to watch some Ali G and drink some beer with the aforementioned laughers/clappers.

Ahhh, sitting in the library and brainstorming ways to sneak liquor in our coffee mugs so that we can be drunk in class never was so much fun.

My current fave:
Mint Chip
Coffee
1 1/2 oz peppermint schnapps
1 1/2 oz kahula

Alas, I'm still sober & studying at the library. What a let down.

So yesterday, my internet was down so I wasn't able to post what would have ended up as an entirely depressing, self-loathing, pointless post. So, time saved for everyone involved here.

Essentially - halfway through my crim class I had as much of a panic attack as I could get without actually jumping into full-fledged shaking on the floor in the fetal position. Which would have been embarresing. Instead, it was, all at once realizing that

(a) I only have five weeks or so until finals
(b) we still have so much to get through in all of our classes - ex: we have gone through three pages of our prop sylabus this semester but still have another three whole pages to get through in a month , including the 'someone told me it's a bitch' rule against perpetuties and future interests. or all of rape/defenses/attempts in a month because all we've managed to do this entire semester is causation & mens rea.
(c) summer job? haven't started thinking about it. and even though we can't legally even so much as apply for a job until December 1 & public interest-type jobs (the only kind a 1L NOT from harvard/NYU/Columbia even has a shot at landing) don't start hiring until February-ish --- people are still stressing about it. Which, in turn, makes me stressed out that I'm not stressed. Tricky
(d) law school's response to all this? "Why don't we put on weekly programming who's only intent [i think] is to stress everyone out even more" Like the 1.5 hour exam writing workshop which supplemented No Really First Grades Are Super Important and the Forced Curve Means You Better Be On Top of Your Game with the helpful advice of "bring pens. and remember to outline."

So yes, mid-crim freak out DID happen. And, of course, the only way to solve all my problems would be to go to a bar with a bunch of girls and others in my section and drink beer. So, instead of this entire post being all complainy-face - a little recaplet of last night:

We went to a bar called Dive Bar. Clever little name. It was dark and had many leather-bound books and smelled of rich mahogany. No, not really, but it was a cute, dark little place with leather couches, tons of different kinds of beer and plenty of board/card games. So everyone kicked backed a couple of beers and played games. Which was, I think, precisely what everyone needed. Grace & I wanted to play Battleship (favorite game on earth; AKA [in Britain] known as BattleshipS) but somone else had already taken it. Curses! Instead, a bunch of us played a rousing game of Yahtzee (Grace won. Like she won almost every other game we played last night. She’s talented) as well a card game that is played with these trasnparent cards that was explained as “Just like Uno.” Which it WASN’T - but fun fun nonetheless.

Gooooood times. Today has been spent trying to decipher murder and other uplifting topics for the Impending Doom that is my crim final. And let’s not even start me on the hell-hole that is Property. Ah! No more complainy-face, I promised. :)

I need to stop this whole stay up really late doing work, wake up really early for class and then spend the whole day grumpy, hungry and unmotivated gimmick. Because then I will turn into a fat, stupid curmudgeon and, since it’s after halloween and costumes are no longer "cool", it would behove me not to participate in such tomfoolery. God, I love the word "tomfoolery."

Besides! It’s November first. El dia de los muertos! Que curiosidad! Also, and more applicable I think, it is also the beginning of what I refer to as "Crunch Time." Because finals are like so soon and it’s taking more willpower than usual not to spend my afternoons drinking gin & tonics and watching Oprah. BECAUSE THAT IS WHAT I’D RATHER BE DOING. Not this crazy little thing called law.

Not that I regret being in law school. I played the "let’s think back to where I was one year ago" game and, yes, this is preferable and I am happy. Not that there was anything "bad" about my Senior Year In College, but this is much more personally fulfilling in the way that Oreos, although they give you a stomache ache if you have too many and make you antisocial - at least for a little bit - because you have to brush your teeth after you eat them, are better than Chips Ahoy, the crunchy, flavorless party snack.