Bananas go to law school, too!



This is my cat. He is sleeping on my computer. He is very cute. I like him much more than my new job which I HATE and WANT TO KILL MYSELF. But that is all I can say. Becuase I don't want to get fired. Although, considering....


Tomorrow, Tomorrow

Tomorrow I start my first day of work at my new "legal" job. No quotes necessary, really - it's just more fun that way. I still have to iron all my things and get "ready." But, unfortunately, GrapefruitGate 2006 means that I might not have anything to do tomorrow. I "need" a laptop. And up until recently, I "had" a laptop. My boss said that it would still be possible to do Good Work without a laptop, but not so much possible to do Great! and Amazing! work. So, I might push up my 6 week program a week so I only have to do Good Work for a week or so before I finally am able to finance a magical laptop.

So, I'm working for a hospital. Apparently, my Big Job is to re-write an informed consent form this summer. I HOPE HOPE there will be more to do becuase, even
sans laptop, that would be pretty lame-o.

In an effort not to lose this job on account of Ridiculous Blog (as opposed to Ridiculous Attitude or Not Showing Up) - I might not be able to recount all the HILARIOUS things that will happen to me this summer.


I am also a waitress. And I think that I might be able to sneak some clever stories. And, really, unlike talking about the two other people I work with at the hosptial legal department - the restaurant have a CONSTANT INFLUX of crazy people. And with them, their stories. So get excited.

I start on Saturday. At 5AM. Oh dear God, save me - that will be rough. My first waitressing day in eight months will be start earlier than I've gotten up since swim team practice in high school. I would worry that I would accidentally spill a bowl of hot soup on a bald man's head (like I "almost" did last summer) - but breakfast food is decidedly un-spillable - unless someone orders porridge. In which case THEY ARE GETTING THEY'RE OWN DAMN PORRIDGE.

Early to bed, early to rise.

Aw, sorry team

They're little. They're little tiny babies. Don't be mad. I didn't "sell out"- I just am feeling the effects of The Great Grapefruit Incident of 2006.

They'll probably be gone soon. If you don't know what I'm talking about, they rhyme with "fad" and are about two inches north of this here dot: . (<-- that was the dot!) Hearts, Banana


Dear Chicago,

Knock it off. You are great is so many ways. Your lakefront, it's great - especially in the summer - keeps the city from being muggy and gross. Your summer music festivals - awesome! I love music! I love being festive! They are so many great and awesome things about Chicago.

Except one thing.

For the love of God, play it cool. We have exactly two "real" celebrities hanging out in Chicago. Vince Vauhgn and Jennifer Aniston. Granted, it's neat! It's great! And if I were to pass them down the street, I would obviously gawk and be excited. But I must law down the law.

You need to get them off the evening news. Look they're at a Cubs game! Look they're at the beach! It's great! LOOK LOOK LOOK WE HAVE FAMOUS PEOPLE.

Awesome, Chicago newscasters. Awesome. I understand the whole Second City mentality (more like third, or even fourth city when it comes to celebrities). But you're EMBARASSING ME!! I lived in New York City for the past nine months. That's where we're super-great and super-chill when it comes to celebrities. And, gosh, you guys are just SO NOT PLAYING IT COOL! So, why not set up a Chicago version of Gawker Stalker, a personal favorite, and you can gawk and stalk and follow up and tell people where "all" the celebrities are. That would be cool. But having reputable newspeople interviewing the restaurant owner from where Aniston/Vaughan ate dinner this week is LAME AND NEEDS TO STOP.

Granted, this is coming from the same newscast that features Mr. Food ("boiled hot dogs and food coloring arranged into this PATRIOTIC FLAG!") and All My Children Jeopardy (don't ask). But still. Try to play it like you're like a part of the slightly-nerdy fraternity having an open party. and you see a mega hot girl. YOU DON'T MAKE A BIG SCENE! You don't go around and follow her and try to see if maybe you can take a picture of your buddies letting off a bottle rocket and then at the VERY LAST MINUTE you swing the camera a bit to the right so it's KINDA like you were able to get a picture with her, but not really. You sit back, pretend like it's normal and maybe she'll have a good enough time to stay awhile - and maybe come back.


Take a moment to laugh, a little bit

Thanks to Lindy for this hilarious clip - I've sold enough of my old books to buy exactly 1/20th of a new laptop! I'm ROLLING in it!



Five hours after I hand in my writing competition packet, I spill a grapefruit on my laptop and ruin the hard drive.

Very unhappy.

Edit: I don't want to jinx it. So I won't say anything. But a hairdryer, towel and tweezers might just be magical magical things. But I'm not going to jinx it.

Edit 2: I think I might have spoken too soon. I got all the liquid out, but I think the sugar and acid from the grapefruit are doing a number on my harddrive. Who am I? Who does this? Spill a grapefruit on a laptop. Saving grace: law school 1L is over and all the stuff on my hard drive really don't matter. BUT I need my laptop for my law job this summer and I would hate to tell my boss on Wednesday that I can't do my job yet because my laptop smells like a grapefruit. I'm letting the guy settle for the weekend. In the meantime, I'm selling every book I own, essentially, on amazon and am considering "selling out" with some garbage addies on this blog. But that would be lame. And if there's anything I'm NOT, it's lame! RIGHT!? Right?

Edit 3: Has anyone had any advice on using EBay to buy a laptop? Any advice if, hypothetically, that's my new plan?


Kinkos & FedEx Stink

So, after a day of Many Fears and Frightening Moments, and still not being anywhere close to being done with anything associated with the writing competition, I decide to take a study break to make doubly-sure that I have all my supplies and things for tomorrow afternoon's printing and mailing BONAAAAANZA. Manilla envelopes, staples, ink injector for ink cardtridges; CHECK CHECK AND CHECK.

So I call the local Kinkos FedEx place to make sure that the magical tracking number on my Package of Law Journal Hope will (a) track what time a package was sent and (b) will be able to track a package that was sent after business hours. The guy on the other end of the line CLEARLY has no idea what he is talking about.

Act I
[Welcome to Kinkos, etc etc]
Me: I just want to make sure that the tracking number FedEx gives me will record the time the package is sent.
Mr. Kinko: What is your tracking number?
Me: No, no, I just want to make sure that's a service FedEx offers.
Mr. Kinko: Well, if you pay by credit card, you can verify the time you paid for it.
Me: Well, shouldn't the tracking number tell me what time the package was sent?
Mr. Kinko: You can tape a copy of your receipt to your package.
-Seriously, Martha Stewart?!?!? -
Me: But the tracking number won't have that information?
Mr. Kinko: Well, if you need me to, I can call 1-800-GO-FEDEX and check.
Me: Oh no, you've been more than helpful. click.

Sigh, I am going to go ahead and call FedEx myself because I don't so much "trust" Mr. Kinko.

Act II
[Dial 1 for English, etc etc etc]
Me: I am trying to figure out if the tracking number would have the time a package was sent.

Mrs. FedEx: What is your tracking number?
Me: I have no tracking number. I did not send a package.
Mrs. FedEx: You can access your tracking number online.
Me: No, no, I'm talking hypothetically here. If I WERE to send a package with FedEx [seriously doubting the wiseness of that plan now..] would the recipient have access to the time the package was sent when they recieve it.
Mrs. FedEx: Well, it depends on the service you choose, we can do next day mail. Or three day mail.
Me: Okay. I have a deadline tomorrow at 7PM. If I send a package before 7PM, will there be any way for the person who gets it to know that I have sent it by the deadline?
Mrs. FedEx: Well, the package will have a tracking number.
Me: But does that tracking number have the time the package was sent?
Mrs. FedEx: Well, you can access your tracking number online at
Me: And would that show when the package was sent?
Mrs. FedEx: Well, yes....
Oh, is it that obvious, really, that it needed to take seven minutes and all I wanted was a human being to tell me that NO you will not fail the law review game by sending your ream of paper to Sir Law Review via FedEx. Thank you.


And I still have NO IDEA whether FedEx will let me send a package after business hours (say, 5:59:59PM CDT) and timestamp it as such. Because everyone at FedEx is a moron. Does anyone out there in the grand internet know?

Meow Mix Meow Mix!

Sooo, I'm back in Chicago. I sat next to a man with kaiser rolls for palms on the plane - he wasn't a particularly fat man, just VERY FAT PALMS. Shiny, egg-glazed kaiser rolls with little snausages poking out of them - Martha Stewart would be proud.

There were more hilarious items in SkyMall but I have NO TIME because I spent all of Tuesday packing and traveling and didn't really get that much work done. And it's smack dab in the middle of the Very Important Writing Competition, so I need to be back to work. It might be a late night tonight, folkies.

Super-sad to be gone - I miss NYC :( But I have a feeling once I start working and waitressing I'll get back into it - ("it" being Chicago) RIGHT??? RIGHT????



Things I Learned During the Writing Competition

THIS IS NOT ME CHEATING. Even though, if I wanted, I could tell you that the answer is "three" (shoot! I'm disqualified!) what I'm REALLY saying is that 10 pages in Courier New is really more like 7.3 pages in Times New Roman. My whole hour-a-page mantra was in serious trouble once we were forced to put everything in Courier New instead of Times New Roman, the old college stand-by. BUT HAVE NO FEAR.

I just typed "The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog," for 10 minutes, breaking it up sometimes by typing "The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy LOG" because that's FUNNY! How can a log be lazy?!? It just lies there! That's what logs DO!

In any event, a little PSA to fellow writing competition laborers -- only 7.3 pages! Woo!

Edit: Emily, it's only 3.5 single-spaced Times New Roman pages --- we're seriously over half-way done! And we haven't even started!

Done, Not So Much


And, therefore, ended the booze-a-thon that has been the last five days. There was much merriment, but now the merriment must end!! Four days of writing and bluebooking and kinda being in NO MOOD to do anything except eat spaghettios and drink lukewarm wine.

But, unfortunately, My Future depends on the next four days. I can't talk about it - talking about the packet/prompt is punish-worthy! Death by guillotine or exclusion from le law review! Egads!

So, since you don't want THAT to happen --- here are two commericals. For carbon dioxide. Paid for by- you guessed it -
gas companies. I laughed. And then remembered that people will soon watch these ads and, like the meatnormous egg sandwich from BK, EAT MORE GASOLINE.

Ad Numero Uno
Ad Numero Dos

Oh, and the second ad cites some research about growing ice caps.
The climate scientists at explain:

However, Johanessen et al. were not able to measure all of the coastal ranges. Indeed, the thinning of the margins and growth in the interior Greenland is an expected response to increased temperatures and more precipitation in a warmer climate. These results present no contradiction to the accelerated sliding near the coasts.


Why I am a Quitter

People, they have fake clickers.


The reason I did not go to Jeopardy this morning was because there is a large contingent of the trying-out community that bought fake clickers "to practice." So they could get their timing down. This, and the fact that "U.S. Presidents, Shakespeare, State Birds, Prime Ministers, Rivers of the World and Brands of Pocket Protectors" have been FLASHCARDED and studied for months now. And I would be totally fine just taking the fake exam and a FABULOUS personality interview because at 9 this morning I probably would still have been drunk which makes my already-fabulous personality FABULOUS.

But it was the mock-jeopardy game that freaked me out. Would I write my name in
script? ALL CAPS! Put a little jaunty Uncle Moneybags Hat on top of the "A" of "Anna'?

I would have NO CHANCE against the contingent of super-nerds that have been practicing with their fake-but-OFFICIAL!-JEOPARDY!-CLICKERS! I would just stand there and say "I like hot dogs!" AND THAT WOULD GET ME NO POINTS!

So, instead, maybe this summer I will make a list of Currencies of the World and buy a 20 dollar clicker online and practice. But I have resigned myself that three days after 1L of law school is not "the time" to try out for Jeopardy. I've already milked my Consitution Team champion-ness for all it's worth this year. Next year will be the year of my drunken ramblings about SCHOLASTIC BOWL!! And you WILL see me! With BELLS ON!

I quit!

Chances of me making it to the Waldorf tomorrow morning in time for shmoozing with Alex Trebeck : SLIM TO NONE!

Maybe next year, we shall meet, Trebeck! Maybe next year!


Now I am filled with a sense of ennui

So, friends, 1L is over. And the proper way to celebrate is, of course, a three-day binge-drinking bender. AND WHO AM I IF NOT PROPER? I have plans for tonight, so I'm thinking about maybe taking the Friday off. Because my brain has been through enough abuse in the last three weeks; it doesn't need any more of this crazy punishment.

Sunday starts the writing competition - and in a WEEK I will be truly, literally, 100% done with my first year of law school. And that means only two more years of aimless musings on this here bloggie. SAD FACE, NO?


'twas the night before con law

In twelve hours, I will be knee-deep in my last exam of my [illustrious, obvi] 1L career. In fourteen hours, I will hopefully be knee-deep in booze and good times. And continue that way until I pick up my writing competition packet on Sunday. If I show up sober, it will count as an Amazing Feat of Self-Control and Greatness, because, come on, everyone I know who got on le Law Review did the packet starting two nights before anyways. And if there's one thing I can do well, it's write 80 pages of text in 67 sleepless hours (read: last six semester of college). And, hey, the writing competition is only 10 pages long SO REALLY THEY SHOULD JUST PUT ME ON LAW REVIEW NOW.

But I going to pull a Gross Thing and wear the same shirt I wore today, tomorrow. It's good luck! It has a hawk (bacaw!) gripping a copy of the Consitution in his talons. IN HIS TALONS PEOPLE. TALONS!

That being said, I Hope to God (really) that I don't show up tomorrow and forget the little bit of knowledge that is being precariously balanced in between "where I can find the nearest BurritoBox, Burritoville and that sack of burittos I bought for a stamp last semester" and "colors that end in 'urple."

SPEAKING OF COLORS THAT END IN URPLE. Friday morning is Make-Out-With-Alex-Trebeck-Day! Excitement! Tomorrow night I am going to some trivia night in the west village with law school friends because the only way to get myself on the Jeopardy is by trying to force myself to remember things when I'm drunk - that way it will be THAT MUCH EASIER when I get to do it "sober" on national television. See, it's just like tapering for swim team. Now With Extra Booze!


I Hate All That You Stand For

This will come in handy when I am studying for the MPRE.

The Creed Of The Locksmith

A Locksmith always remembers his public trust. With him rests the security of property and fortune. As a public guardian, he shuns the dishonest, the wicked and the avaricious. For thousands of years, he and his predecessors have placed trust and honor above temptation. His honesty is incorruptible. His allies are the custodians of law and order. He is an artist at his trade and the symbol of skill and integrity to the world.

Ehh, Mea Culpa!!

meta-mea culpa.

no one has to retake any contracts exam. apparently, when i get my news seven people removed from the actual source, i get some "facts" "wrong."

details, details.


Last weekend of not-fun!!

Three down!! One to go!!! It would feel great if there wasn't a closed-book Constitutional Law final looming -- can't quite figure out how I'm going to memorize 98 (literally) cases in a weekend. BUT HAVE NO FEAR, Red Bull and fear of failing are here!!!

Contracts went "well." Well in the sense that there was absolutely no benefit to me studying - 3 hours for an open book exam that had a two-page handwritten limit per question (there were 3) which meant that for every hour-long question, everyone in the class had a good 40-45 minutes to "reasearch." It was much less a test of Contracts Knowledge then an assessment of how well you can use an index. That being said, I could have very well gotten a C, thanks to the forced curve and I am frustrated that I wasted my time studying Ks when I should have been studying Con Law. But such is the life, no? I suppose if any professor would have pulled a tricky trick like that, it would have been professor flip flops, so...the only thing to do is move on.

I cannot wait until Tuesday at noon-thirty - I might forgo coffee in my travel mug and pour some delicious delicious booze in there instead - I will not be able to make it back to my room sober.



Sooo, Contracts final tomorrow (this?) morning and it could go either way. I feel like a) I know what a contract may or may not be and b) I know how to calculate damages. WHERE IS MY A, PROFESSOR? That being said, the collective crapping-of-the-pants my section is having right about now is a little disconcerting and who knows, maybe my false sense of security will be pummled in six hours. This is when I wish I had no friends and talked to no one in my section - it just stresses me out.

But then again, I kinda like my section people-folk, so, I guess it's a TOSS UP.


I work for the Department of the Redundancy Department

So, here I am, slaving away, trying to learn six credits worth of contracts in the next, um, 36 hours. And I plan on using those 36 hours efficiently and relying on a minimum number of naps and not watching "What Not to Wear." And, I would like to thank the writers of "Understanding Contracts," publisher LexisNexis for their succinct, clear and non-repetitive language. They go by the names of Jeffrey Ferriell and Michael Navin. THANKS JEFF AND MIKE. You KNOW my time is valuable and have helped make sure that I don't waste ANY time. No, really, this excerpt is DEFINITELY not repetitive. repetitive. repetitive.

Boys and girls, let's learn about material breach:
A total material breach is a material breach which cannot be cured. If one party has committed a material breach and it cannot be cured, there is a total material breach.
A breach cannot be cured if it is the type of breach which cannot be cured.

I work for the Department of the Redundancy Department

So, here I am, slaving away, trying to learn six credits worth of contracts in the next, um, 36 hours. And I plan on using those 36 hours efficiently and relying on a minimum number of naps and not watching "What Not to Wear." And, I would like to thank the writers of "Understanding Contracts," (publisher LexisNexis) for their succinct, clear and non-repetitive language. They go by the names of Jeffrey Ferriell and Michael Navin. THANKS JEFF AND MIKE. You KNOW my time is valuable and have helped make sure that I don't waste ANY time. No, really, this excerpt is DEFINITELY not repetitive. repetitive. repetitive.

Boys and girls, let's learn about material breach:
A total material breach is a material breach which cannot be cured. If one party has committed a material breach and it cannot be cured, there is a total material breach.
A breach cannot be cured if it is the type of breach which cannot be cured.


I need to make an apology. Some people have implied that I might have been a little mean to Mr. David Blaine regarding his magic trick last night, or failure thereof. And the last thing I want would be for the Man Himself to google his name, happen upon my sight and exclaim WHY IS THIS PERSON WHO FASHIONS HERSELF LIKE A BANANA WITH GOOGLIE EYES AND STICKS FOR LIMBS BEING SO MEAN???? Which, I suppose, is a fair question.

I'm sorry, David Blainie.

NYT, what?

"To the matter of Mr. Blaine's unusual choice of vocation, one always wants to ask: What would have been so bad about law school?"

Oh New York Times, you always know how to go straight to my heart.

And I'll TELL YOU. My hand hurt SO MUCH after a three-hour handwritten exam. I'll take floating in bathwater and then crying on national television over that.


One is Silver and the Other....

Torts is DONE! That means we are halfway done with finals - - it CERTAINLY doesn't feel that way - it feels like we should be done NOW! Not forced to take another 10 credits worth of finals. Lame-o shmame-o. But, chug chug chug, all the way to the contracts bus - which will be leaving bright and early this Thursday. When broed of studying, I paid a visit to our friendly neighborhood law school bookstore and made a delicious purchase of a BRAND NEW FANCY SHMANCY LEGAL-LINE OUTLINE for Contracts! Awesome! Great! Studying will be so much better now! I am BOUND to get an A+++++++++ (plus. plus. plus).

In other news, Mr. David Blaine might die on national television tonight. Suddenly, Contracts became bunches more interesting and less death-y. I TOTALLY get seeing him in a fish tank every night at 2am; that's normal, almost makes me a cooler person. BUt I don't want to watch his death-palms turn into death-body. Of course, if anything horrible happens, I'll be deleting this paragraph because my WITTY BANTER is only entertaining when it's not true. But seriously, I hope nothing bad happens because it would SUCK to have to get rid of my comedic gold.


That Waiter Just Torted My Ass

It's been a little bit of a Torts-a-thon of late which explains the lack of any posts of much merit and the derth of posts that are more like "hi! today i had a granola bar for breakfast! it was good. i had tuna for lunch! it was good. for dinner i have chili! it was good. i can't wait for tommorrow! it will be good."

I just can't wait until one and a half weeks from now, for our Weekend Of Fun! (four days between end of finals and start of writing competition). It'll be just like Senior Year except everyone's a little more pale, unhappy, drinking more straight liquor than "mixed drinks" and every few hours someone is going to throw in a prima facie case for SOMETHING they learned this year.

David Blaine report: still pruny, more lethargic. Went there last night and, after scowling at the poeple who dared to have a good time and smile and not be studying, David Blaine just sat around his tank like a Beta Fish.


David Blaine & the Snow Globe

I walked past the David Blaine snow globe across the street and his hands were outside of the water and there were three people ON TOP of the snow globe doing something. I read somewhere that his hands & feet were getting painful because they've been pruny or whatever for so many days - apparently they are starting to slather vaseline on him to keep the skin from peeling off. All I want to know is how he's going to unchain himself from locks & keys at the end of the week with no palms. 'Cause everyone knows that you need workable palms to unchain yourself underwater.

Edit: I found a picture of his palms - yesterday - so they must be worse now. Oh MAN, mega-gross! WHY?!?

In other news, this clip of Tom Cruise dancing may or may not be the funniest thing I've seen IN A LONG TIME. It's hilarious with no sound becuase the movements are so awkward - but WITH sound you can hear everyone laughing at him, so it's really a toss up. Enjoy!

One Down!

One town, three to go!!! Celebrating was sectionmater with a little pow wow for lunch & drinks, now it's back to work!! Next week, we've got Torts & Contracts up on the chopping block - gotta keep chugging!!!

No more gossip!


First Final.

Twelve hours from now, I will be in the midst of my Civil Procedure final. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. :) I feel pretty good though, we'll see how this turns out tomorrow!

and this blog will get less live-journal-y post-finals. PROMISE.



I HATE myself for saying it.

But I kinda like civil procedure.

Did you SEE that? Babe the Pig just flew to Hell to go skiing. And the Cubs won the World Series.