'Nother random dream. And it involved me drinking the alcohol that I have bought in the last week.
It's probably from the stress. I've got oral arguments later today (3:30 est) and I'm not nervous yet, but the shakes have started. N should remember how bad I got during International Law moot court last spring. And now there's noone to follow up on what I say. But I figure something has to go right for me today, and I hope it's that. I couldn't find my other shoe (again! I swear my room eats shoes now), it's raining, the trains were running behind schedule, and I ripped part of the pages I printed off at school (had to print at school because my printer is out of black ink. I guess my bad luck started last night even. Fuck). So I suppose I'm dressed up enough, I know my arguments, my hair is at least out of my face. Yes, most of the girls are wearing their hair at least partway down, so I'm ok with my choice. But no more caffeine for me today. I had my latte and water, and I'm not going to put anything else into my system until after orals, just in case my stomach does not agree with me. sigh. wish me luck.
Ugh. My roommate and her boyfriend. Everytime I hear them or hear her on the phone with him it's like, "I'm not angry," or, "Don't be angry." Why would he need to say he's not angry.... and here comes the fight. "Baby... come on..." The sarcastic and the deflecting and arguing over stupid little things. Something about clothes. Every time he comes over they start fighting
"Oh Marky amorous he, Marky Bobrowski."
Perhaps I should explain. Our property professor last year was Mark Bobrowski. He literally wrote the land use textbook for Massachusetts. He knows he's the shit. And he makes it known. And there are a select few who worship him, and I am included. However, I'll admit he can come off as an arrogant asshole, because, well, he is one. So last Friday, the law school had "Follies," which is a roast of the professors, for students to perform and make fun of them. There were several good performers, but the one that took the cake is the guy that took on Bobrowski. Very glad only one of the professors was actually there. The guy that acted Bobrowski started out with a song. You remember the song in Aladdin, the Prince Ali march Genie sings to proclaim his arrival? Yeah, modified to announce Bobrowski. "Oh Marky, amorous he, Marky Bobrowski. He's got 89 silver Fararri's, Conchord-acre's he's got 35...." and so on. Then... "I am here to talk to you about the recession we currently are in. Do not worry about me, I have plenty of money. And I've even found a way around the 13th amendment. You remember what that one is? It's the one that banned slaves. I just hire them as interns. Work them to death and give them recommendations and they worship me for it." I LOVED IT. I need those lyrics.
I don't understand it. I wasn't even drunk at ALLL on Friday during Follies and I still end up with random bruises and scrapes and soreness. I had a Corona. That's it. Because all the bar had for beer was Bud or Bud Light (which if you recall I now refuse to drink. That'll be interesting at my class reunion this summer. My guess is there's going to be a LOT of Bud Light flowing, and now, from the smallest town on earth (according to Bill) I will now be the hippie that refuses to drink anything below Sam Adams. FUCK. And while we're on the topic, how fucked up is it that my 5th year reunion will be this summer? I mean, yeah, I've changed, for the better, but just looking at some of the people on the list make me want to strangle a puppy. I don't want to see them. Some of them, yes, I'll admit it'll be nice to see, because I haven't kept up with ANYONE from my particular HS class (classes behind me, yeah, but we were friends long before HS and have both been on the same track for a long time) and I can't wait to see their faces when they see me drinking with the best of them. But these are people that knew me, knew me well, and knew me since little on. I hope that they have all changed for the better, as I have. Like back then, I wanted everyone to like me. Now I realize that some people will never like me, or at least we won't be friends, for no fault of my own, our personalities just clash or my sense of humor is a little bit more than they can handle (ok, that one's my fault, but I love my sense of humor, no matter how vulgar, sarcastic or whatever it may be) and I'm ok with that. I'm pretty awesome, and the people who can't see that don't know what they're missing out on and can go fuck themselves. It'll also be mind-blowing for them because I didn't drink in high school. And now I'm all for drinking to excess, and could pass as a bartender. I can't wait to see their faces. But yeah, finishing up this complete tangent rant, it's going to be odd, because of the incestuous group that is the dating pool of people that stuck around home, and of all the people who got preggo quickly, and I'm in none of those groups. I'm the shit, I'm in law school, I know where I want to go in life, and I have great friends. Who could ask for more?) Oh but yeah, the bar only had Corona and I wasn't about to pay 9 bucks for a mixed drink. So I wasn't even tipsy and I don't know where this scratch came from. hmmmm
And my new favorite procrastination exercise? Listening to Bo Burnham. Seriously. Hilarious. Randomly popped on Comedy Central after Follies at Felt, and he was on the new stuff on Friday night. Seriously. So funny. I think I'm actually going to have to get his CD, even though he annoyingly and shamelessly over-self-promotes, but still, funny shit, I'm telling you.
"Did you know that Jesus died on the cross, just to keep you from masterbating? And until the 1960's, he frowned upon inter-racial dating?"
So this was a little more kept-together than usual. I consider that a success.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
Now that, my friends, is what you call a wardrobe mis-function
Yeah, you can ask what the title means. Yet another thing I shall be vague about.
hahahaha. Took a random quiz on rumandmonkey.com (if you remember, a procrastination website) entitled "Do you love him," cause I'm bored and it was late. The result? "No you don't, dump him." Already did thanks.
So this is another random thoughts blog, with quotes I've overheard, seen on TV or otherwise randomly been entertained by lately.
We're on the subject of sex-based discrimination in Con Law now, and the subject of feminism came up. I, as one quote I see often says, distinguish myself from a doormat, but I don't consider myself a feminist. I fight for my opinions and against the guys I know, but I'm not out there, trying to get every woman equal rights as men. The women that gain those rights have fought to be there, and the ones that feel they should just coast along can eat my dust.
There's also a little thing in the early sex cases that bugs me, as a chick (yes, I describe myself, and most other girls, as chicks, because I'm not a girl anymore, but I will never be mature enough to call myself a woman. Whatevs) who took ag with all the boys and whipped their asses at cutting welding and owns a coffeetable I built myself and can wrangle around a 1,500lb cow, I take a bit, ok, a LOT of offense to. (N, if you're reading this, this is for you, we fought for HOURS over this, and never ended up getting anywhere) There's one case where the court says women weren't allowed a privilege because we were to "fill the benign role of wife and mother." I would go crazy or become a raging alcoholic if I had to stay at home and only raise a kid. No fucking way. Then there's a case before JEB that said that the reason women couldn't be on juries was that
It's slightly scary the things I come up with when I'm bored and hungry and inventive. The latest example? Chicken tender tacos. Microwaved, precooked chicken tenders, cut up, dusted with taco seasoning and topped with cheese in a tortilla. Not horrible, but it's one of those that once you see the final result, you immediately think, "Nothing good can come of this."
Why can't dreams be reality? I kept hitting my snooze Wednesday morning, trying to go back to the perfectness of the dream, including no presence of A. But plenty of the other, who shall remain uninitialed. Because you all know who. If you know me at all.
I can only say this right now: that I have the best friends in the world.
"Chess just got fucked in the face."
OHHH! The thing I've been forgetting to get down for the longest time now... pin bowling with Mormons. A friend from law school invited some people from school and her church to this event called "Redneck Round-up." I'm hick, sign me up. I got my flannel goin' on, with the cute tank top... and I've never been pin bowling. It's a little different than regular bowling, 3 balls per frame and the scoring of strikes and spares is a bit off too. But fun. I really sucked it up, but the Bailey's-flavored icecream beforehand helped. Yes, I get alcohol in any place I can. But it was a little odd too. Like I didn't feel like myself, ya know. Like I know they don't swear or drink, so anytime I would start to say "fuck" or go off on the alcohol I like, I'd find myself stopping myself, and I'm not to like self-censoring. Which is why I love my summer friends. And SATC. And anyone who knows they matter and I'm forgetting. You know who you are!
"Everybody's intimidating in their own way. It's better to be feared than loved."
"At this point after being so single I think I'd rather be loved!"
Pandora scares me sometimes. With the songs that come up on certain stations. There's this ... Hungarian boincy pingy song about gummi bears that came up on Tenacious D, and ACDC came up on Breakfast At Tiffany's. Who decides this? I would like to lodge a complaint. Don't get me wrong, the Hungarian Gummibears tribute gets me giggling every time I hear it, but I'm still confused by the fact that I AM hearing it.
Drunk Bejeweled Blitz is not necessarily the best idea in the world. Not that anyone would say that it was a good idea to begin with, but yeah. Not as fun as I thought it would be.
Only L2 could get us kicked out of Coldstone. Here is the story:
L, C, E, and I got lunch this Friday between classes and went to the small Coldstone near the school for dessert. We were sitting in the windows, just people watching, wasting time, because ya know, we really didn't want to go back and do the Con Law reading. Then L2 comes and asks us if it's possible to sue someone a store of an individual for smoking in a store. We start going over all the possibilities, and the guy working the counter puts in his 2 cents, because we were the only ones in the place. We had just gotten into the penalties for the store owner or manager, like the $500 fine, when a girl who works at Coldstone comes in, smoking. The guy told her to shut the door and put it out, then took her in the back and talked to her. At that point we were all like "Umm... this is awkward, we should leave." So we get out of there in like, 10 seconds flat.
So that is how we got ourselves self-banned from Coldstone.
hahahaha. Took a random quiz on rumandmonkey.com (if you remember, a procrastination website) entitled "Do you love him," cause I'm bored and it was late. The result? "No you don't, dump him." Already did thanks.
So this is another random thoughts blog, with quotes I've overheard, seen on TV or otherwise randomly been entertained by lately.
We're on the subject of sex-based discrimination in Con Law now, and the subject of feminism came up. I, as one quote I see often says, distinguish myself from a doormat, but I don't consider myself a feminist. I fight for my opinions and against the guys I know, but I'm not out there, trying to get every woman equal rights as men. The women that gain those rights have fought to be there, and the ones that feel they should just coast along can eat my dust.
There's also a little thing in the early sex cases that bugs me, as a chick (yes, I describe myself, and most other girls, as chicks, because I'm not a girl anymore, but I will never be mature enough to call myself a woman. Whatevs) who took ag with all the boys and whipped their asses at cutting welding and owns a coffeetable I built myself and can wrangle around a 1,500lb cow, I take a bit, ok, a LOT of offense to. (N, if you're reading this, this is for you, we fought for HOURS over this, and never ended up getting anywhere) There's one case where the court says women weren't allowed a privilege because we were to "fill the benign role of wife and mother." I would go crazy or become a raging alcoholic if I had to stay at home and only raise a kid. No fucking way. Then there's a case before JEB that said that the reason women couldn't be on juries was that
"Criminal court trials often involve testimony of the foulest kind, and the sometimes require consideration of indecent conduct, the use of filthy and loathsome words, references to intimate sex relationships, and other elements that would prove humiliating, embarrassing and degrading to a lady."Maybe I'm no lady (and I'm OK with that) but foul language and indecent (mostly involving parties and alcohol) behavior define what I like to do. I guess that's how times have changed. You lose the lady and get me. But I'll still go on rants about how douchebags and punks and self-important and too-impressive-for-my-own pants male crowd on the Orange line haven't heard of the concept of "ladies first." Just see my twitter. Double standard I guess, but it happens, live with it.
It's slightly scary the things I come up with when I'm bored and hungry and inventive. The latest example? Chicken tender tacos. Microwaved, precooked chicken tenders, cut up, dusted with taco seasoning and topped with cheese in a tortilla. Not horrible, but it's one of those that once you see the final result, you immediately think, "Nothing good can come of this."
Why can't dreams be reality? I kept hitting my snooze Wednesday morning, trying to go back to the perfectness of the dream, including no presence of A. But plenty of the other, who shall remain uninitialed. Because you all know who. If you know me at all.
I can only say this right now: that I have the best friends in the world.
"Chess just got fucked in the face."
OHHH! The thing I've been forgetting to get down for the longest time now... pin bowling with Mormons. A friend from law school invited some people from school and her church to this event called "Redneck Round-up." I'm hick, sign me up. I got my flannel goin' on, with the cute tank top... and I've never been pin bowling. It's a little different than regular bowling, 3 balls per frame and the scoring of strikes and spares is a bit off too. But fun. I really sucked it up, but the Bailey's-flavored icecream beforehand helped. Yes, I get alcohol in any place I can. But it was a little odd too. Like I didn't feel like myself, ya know. Like I know they don't swear or drink, so anytime I would start to say "fuck" or go off on the alcohol I like, I'd find myself stopping myself, and I'm not to like self-censoring. Which is why I love my summer friends. And SATC. And anyone who knows they matter and I'm forgetting. You know who you are!
"Everybody's intimidating in their own way. It's better to be feared than loved."
"At this point after being so single I think I'd rather be loved!"
Pandora scares me sometimes. With the songs that come up on certain stations. There's this ... Hungarian boincy pingy song about gummi bears that came up on Tenacious D, and ACDC came up on Breakfast At Tiffany's. Who decides this? I would like to lodge a complaint. Don't get me wrong, the Hungarian Gummibears tribute gets me giggling every time I hear it, but I'm still confused by the fact that I AM hearing it.
Drunk Bejeweled Blitz is not necessarily the best idea in the world. Not that anyone would say that it was a good idea to begin with, but yeah. Not as fun as I thought it would be.
Only L2 could get us kicked out of Coldstone. Here is the story:
L, C, E, and I got lunch this Friday between classes and went to the small Coldstone near the school for dessert. We were sitting in the windows, just people watching, wasting time, because ya know, we really didn't want to go back and do the Con Law reading. Then L2 comes and asks us if it's possible to sue someone a store of an individual for smoking in a store. We start going over all the possibilities, and the guy working the counter puts in his 2 cents, because we were the only ones in the place. We had just gotten into the penalties for the store owner or manager, like the $500 fine, when a girl who works at Coldstone comes in, smoking. The guy told her to shut the door and put it out, then took her in the back and talked to her. At that point we were all like "Umm... this is awkward, we should leave." So we get out of there in like, 10 seconds flat.
So that is how we got ourselves self-banned from Coldstone.
Friday, March 20, 2009
I don't want to jinx myself
Hooray for random ramblings:
(you know you tolerate me...)
~So. I've determined. To make up for the uberextremeflamingpileofcrapsuckitudefest that was my spring break 2009, I'm going to start planning my spring break 2010 right now. It'll either be to Texas, Florida, or...ooooohh. Arizona. My parents are thinking about buying a condo down in Phoenix, so it would be free to stay. So if you read this, actually know me, and would be down for a well planned, epic road-trip... let me know.
~I would rather sit backwards on a rolly-chair than be on nearly any other type of furniture.
~I've decided that someone looking at my laundry could be rather confused. It's a great combination of frills and flannel, long-sleeved shirts and tank tops, and lace and boxers.
~In Con Law on Tuesday, I nearly teared up. I had my notes from last year's con law class with Deam, and I realized that everything was better then. My life, my teacher, my passion. I LOVED con law, even though I never spoke up. I had FUN debating the cases with N and T (of course, stfu). I want that back.... I really do.
~Also, I've decided to make a scoresheet, if you will, for people to use. More for entertainment purposes, but it will determine the likelihood of whether your potential relation will result in a nuclear holocaust. I'm not sure how to set up a program to score it though, so it'll be all hand-calculated.
~My hair is weird. So I don't get sex hair after the fact, so I'm told, but wake up after a fitful night's sleep and just have time to run some mousse and spray through it? = sex hair. fml. or ftw. one of the two.
~This is going to sound very... circular, but I've realized that finally letting go of something is extremely liberating. Not focusing on something you have no control over? It may be something you wanted at some point, and it may hurt like hell, and I'm not gonna lie, you might emerge more jaded on the other side, but to not let it rule you life and your actions and your decisions? Brilliant. But even better if, after letting it go, you still want to make the decisions you made before you let go. ie: I still want to transfer back home. More than ever.
~Oh oh oh!! Guess what!? No matter what horror or blessing befalls me this time around in semester finals, I *will* be living in Ames this summer!!! I have a place lined up, and another offer to be roomies if that one for some reason doesn't happen. So if the worst happens, I have 3 months to get my shit together before I'll be out in the street.
~Aaannnddd! I just got some of the starters for my bar. They're more unusual, and one is just for shots, but it'll be great. I got Apfel Korn, an apple liquor that's great for shots. Then this, er, I'm not sure exactly what it is, but it was on sale, it's by Kahlua, and it's 70 proof. It's a fusion rum, with "spice, citrus and other flavors." I figure it'll be ok with Coke. It's not even a cool bottle but I want to try different things. Then, the capstone. I found a drink recipe that calls for Cabin Fever and it sounded really good, and I called Cyclone Liquors to see if they have it (they don't). So I swung by to get just that, and ended up getting the other two as well. I won't open any of them til summer, though, which shouldn't really be difficult. I've still got my 99 Blackberries to tide me over.
"I'm not sure my friends back home would believe this." ~yours truly. Our Civil Procedure professor plays music before each class, and Wednesday, in the "theme" for sanctions and penalties, he decided to play this. Whip it. Whip it good. Oh. Dear. Lord.
And I'm not sure if our criminal law professor has gotten onto my quote board yet, but his initiation is today. I think the problem is that his is more focused to the class, and so not funny out of context. But I'll try.
1) In talking about rape statutes and what level of permission or consent is needed, he went into a schpeel that went something like this: "Does this take us to the level where we have to require consent cards to be carried when you go out to the bars on the weekends? Like, if you agree, please sign here, if we get to level 2, initial here..."
2)This one requires the image of our crim professor. He's not a small man, and was a JAG (Judge Advocate General's office, if you don't know, part of the military) before he started teaching so. In teaching retreat: "What do you have to do to let the other person know that you're removing yourself from the situation? Run away? As you're running away to you have to say [in a PeeWee Herman-ish voice] 'I'm done fighting.'" (with motions of him running away) oh yes.
*Final rant*
OK. Seriously bitch. Some of use are trying to study. We don't have the leisure to hang out all day then come in and do a lazy class every once in a while. I don't care that you think cities are so great and everyone should live in one for awhile. I actually kind of agree. But what you *don't* do is insult where I come from. You're saying that everyone who comes from small towns or suburbia and say they think the city is so big and hate it are scum, basically, and need to go back to podunk. I do hate the city. I do think Boston is a big city, but *it actually is.* Look at the population. It says 6 million, not 10 square blocks. It sounds like you're the sheltered one. I can personally handle the city, I just hate it for reasons other than it's big. Perhaps, for people. like. you.
So that's it. For now. I told you it was long and rambly.
(you know you tolerate me...)
~So. I've determined. To make up for the uberextremeflamingpileofcrapsuckitudefest that was my spring break 2009, I'm going to start planning my spring break 2010 right now. It'll either be to Texas, Florida, or...ooooohh. Arizona. My parents are thinking about buying a condo down in Phoenix, so it would be free to stay. So if you read this, actually know me, and would be down for a well planned, epic road-trip... let me know.
~I would rather sit backwards on a rolly-chair than be on nearly any other type of furniture.
~I've decided that someone looking at my laundry could be rather confused. It's a great combination of frills and flannel, long-sleeved shirts and tank tops, and lace and boxers.
~In Con Law on Tuesday, I nearly teared up. I had my notes from last year's con law class with Deam, and I realized that everything was better then. My life, my teacher, my passion. I LOVED con law, even though I never spoke up. I had FUN debating the cases with N and T (of course, stfu). I want that back.... I really do.
~Also, I've decided to make a scoresheet, if you will, for people to use. More for entertainment purposes, but it will determine the likelihood of whether your potential relation will result in a nuclear holocaust. I'm not sure how to set up a program to score it though, so it'll be all hand-calculated.
~My hair is weird. So I don't get sex hair after the fact, so I'm told, but wake up after a fitful night's sleep and just have time to run some mousse and spray through it? = sex hair. fml. or ftw. one of the two.
~This is going to sound very... circular, but I've realized that finally letting go of something is extremely liberating. Not focusing on something you have no control over? It may be something you wanted at some point, and it may hurt like hell, and I'm not gonna lie, you might emerge more jaded on the other side, but to not let it rule you life and your actions and your decisions? Brilliant. But even better if, after letting it go, you still want to make the decisions you made before you let go. ie: I still want to transfer back home. More than ever.
~Oh oh oh!! Guess what!? No matter what horror or blessing befalls me this time around in semester finals, I *will* be living in Ames this summer!!! I have a place lined up, and another offer to be roomies if that one for some reason doesn't happen. So if the worst happens, I have 3 months to get my shit together before I'll be out in the street.
~Aaannnddd! I just got some of the starters for my bar. They're more unusual, and one is just for shots, but it'll be great. I got Apfel Korn, an apple liquor that's great for shots. Then this, er, I'm not sure exactly what it is, but it was on sale, it's by Kahlua, and it's 70 proof. It's a fusion rum, with "spice, citrus and other flavors." I figure it'll be ok with Coke. It's not even a cool bottle but I want to try different things. Then, the capstone. I found a drink recipe that calls for Cabin Fever and it sounded really good, and I called Cyclone Liquors to see if they have it (they don't). So I swung by to get just that, and ended up getting the other two as well. I won't open any of them til summer, though, which shouldn't really be difficult. I've still got my 99 Blackberries to tide me over.
"I'm not sure my friends back home would believe this." ~yours truly. Our Civil Procedure professor plays music before each class, and Wednesday, in the "theme" for sanctions and penalties, he decided to play this. Whip it. Whip it good. Oh. Dear. Lord.
And I'm not sure if our criminal law professor has gotten onto my quote board yet, but his initiation is today. I think the problem is that his is more focused to the class, and so not funny out of context. But I'll try.
1) In talking about rape statutes and what level of permission or consent is needed, he went into a schpeel that went something like this: "Does this take us to the level where we have to require consent cards to be carried when you go out to the bars on the weekends? Like, if you agree, please sign here, if we get to level 2, initial here..."
2)This one requires the image of our crim professor. He's not a small man, and was a JAG (Judge Advocate General's office, if you don't know, part of the military) before he started teaching so. In teaching retreat: "What do you have to do to let the other person know that you're removing yourself from the situation? Run away? As you're running away to you have to say [in a PeeWee Herman-ish voice] 'I'm done fighting.'" (with motions of him running away) oh yes.
*Final rant*
OK. Seriously bitch. Some of use are trying to study. We don't have the leisure to hang out all day then come in and do a lazy class every once in a while. I don't care that you think cities are so great and everyone should live in one for awhile. I actually kind of agree. But what you *don't* do is insult where I come from. You're saying that everyone who comes from small towns or suburbia and say they think the city is so big and hate it are scum, basically, and need to go back to podunk. I do hate the city. I do think Boston is a big city, but *it actually is.* Look at the population. It says 6 million, not 10 square blocks. It sounds like you're the sheltered one. I can personally handle the city, I just hate it for reasons other than it's big. Perhaps, for people. like. you.
So that's it. For now. I told you it was long and rambly.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
I am not allowed to drink Bud Light again
I thought I would give it another shot after the time it was involved in the "shower-abortingly drunk" incident. However, after realizing it, not the late hour and lack-of-sleepishness was the reason for my crappy mood during KQ, and it giving me a headache at the end of last night's festivities, I've decided that I will heretofore reject all Bud Light offerings. Even if....even if.
Also, I'm sorry to barade you with posts lately. I'm sure this will be the last for a few days at least.
But moving on. Last night was the Barrister's Ball for New England. I was woken up at 4:30 in the morning by a friends gf texting me to tell him he's in the ER and ... I'm still very confused by that whole thing. But 4:30!! That's what really gets me. Which means it was 3:30 there, but still. WTF? And yeah, can't really chat her up. It'll be more than a little bit 1)awkward, to extreme, more because of the people in common and the craziness that has ensued, *and* 2) I've never met the chick. I really don't know what to do. But I got back to sleep after sending a pissy, middle of the night text back. (Don't worry, once I was conscious I sent a more caring one back.)
So I spent most of the day (because our Con Law professor canceled class because she was "sick." We all saw that one coming) straightening my hair, looking to my other shoe I wanted to wear and getting ready, then taking more than an hour to get to the Marriot, when it would have only taken about 40 minutes had the red line not stopped every fucking 5 feet along the fucking way.
But get there, get *the* best Tom Collins I've ever had, and make my way to the table, only to find the only other person already at the table was "superman," the guy everyone knows who he is, but noone really wants to talk to. And to top it all off, he didn't even know who I was. He was like, "I'm Ilir." I say, "I know, I'm Christina, we're in the same section..." "We are? I had no idea." I know, that's because you sit in the front row with the legally brunettes and make everyone want to shoot you when you start talking in class. Put your fucking hand down.
But then Justice Ginsburg spoke, was wonderful, about the congeniality of the court and the day to day workings. It sounded a bit like what N has said, but better. I just want to hug her. I want to be O'Connor, because she's just a supremely classy broad, like she could tell someone to fuck off and them actually want to do it, but Ginsburg is the wise old grandma. Brilliant.
Dessert, pictures, schmoozing and drinking afterwards. Try to get into several clubs, then find Whiskey's, where A buys us Bud Lights. I finish it quickly, and head out to catch the train back. But I develop a headache and stomachache before I even finished it. Blech.
I a friend to tell about Justice Ginsburg, but let him go quickly. Then, for the first time walking back to the house I felt unsafe, but I felt like I couldn't call the person I really would have wanted to call. Stupid plans going up in flames.
So I fell asleep sometime between 2 and 3. And woke up at 2:15 this afternoon. It was wonderful. Except it roused me from a perfectly wonderful dream about how spring break should have gone... well, in general. It, however, also involved a live hamster made of wax and an essential commune with some of the summer guys, and story hour with K and this other chick I haven't talked to in years being relocated into the commune because the wax hamster got melted and it started to rain.... It was a dream, give me a break. But I remember enough of it to be really confusing.
"Happiness isn't happiness without a violin-playing goat."
"What is it about men and nudity? Particularly breasts? How can you be so interested in them? But, but, seriously: they're just breasts. Every second person in the world has them."
Emo thought of the day: "Every once in a while I see a picture and think that I should try harder or try to be a better person to impress them, but then I remember that I shouldn't live my life trying to impress others. They should like me for who I am, not for who I want to be." I'm taking a stand. Or at least I'm going to try. I like the people I try to impress so I'll probably rebound, but still...you should value who I am and stop being such a fucking hypocrite. People need to stop being passive aggressive and grow up when it comes to dealing with people. I'm going to "be selfish," as one of my law classmates put it. I'm going to do what I need to do to make it. If you think you matter right now, believe me, you still do, but I'm just going to keep playing it cool for now, and follow your moves instead of making my own. I'm pretty awesome, and if someone can't see that, then they obviously don't know what they're missing. I have some amazing friends who I love and adore and wouldn't change, but it's every once in a while there are others that I have to step back and re-evaluate. You might make the cut, but you're going to have to fight for it.
In other news, I could write a book about everything that is wrong with the new facebook layout. I hate, hate, hate it. From the rounded-edged pictures to the not knowing whether someone is posting a status or posting to a wall.... I despise it with a fiery passion that runs deep into my soul.
Also, my current procrastination obsession is rumandmonkey.com. Seriously. It's kind of hard to navigate, but they've got some funny shit on there.
Also, I'm sorry to barade you with posts lately. I'm sure this will be the last for a few days at least.
But moving on. Last night was the Barrister's Ball for New England. I was woken up at 4:30 in the morning by a friends gf texting me to tell him he's in the ER and ... I'm still very confused by that whole thing. But 4:30!! That's what really gets me. Which means it was 3:30 there, but still. WTF? And yeah, can't really chat her up. It'll be more than a little bit 1)awkward, to extreme, more because of the people in common and the craziness that has ensued, *and* 2) I've never met the chick. I really don't know what to do. But I got back to sleep after sending a pissy, middle of the night text back. (Don't worry, once I was conscious I sent a more caring one back.)
So I spent most of the day (because our Con Law professor canceled class because she was "sick." We all saw that one coming) straightening my hair, looking to my other shoe I wanted to wear and getting ready, then taking more than an hour to get to the Marriot, when it would have only taken about 40 minutes had the red line not stopped every fucking 5 feet along the fucking way.
But get there, get *the* best Tom Collins I've ever had, and make my way to the table, only to find the only other person already at the table was "superman," the guy everyone knows who he is, but noone really wants to talk to. And to top it all off, he didn't even know who I was. He was like, "I'm Ilir." I say, "I know, I'm Christina, we're in the same section..." "We are? I had no idea." I know, that's because you sit in the front row with the legally brunettes and make everyone want to shoot you when you start talking in class. Put your fucking hand down.
But then Justice Ginsburg spoke, was wonderful, about the congeniality of the court and the day to day workings. It sounded a bit like what N has said, but better. I just want to hug her. I want to be O'Connor, because she's just a supremely classy broad, like she could tell someone to fuck off and them actually want to do it, but Ginsburg is the wise old grandma. Brilliant.
Dessert, pictures, schmoozing and drinking afterwards. Try to get into several clubs, then find Whiskey's, where A buys us Bud Lights. I finish it quickly, and head out to catch the train back. But I develop a headache and stomachache before I even finished it. Blech.
I a friend to tell about Justice Ginsburg, but let him go quickly. Then, for the first time walking back to the house I felt unsafe, but I felt like I couldn't call the person I really would have wanted to call. Stupid plans going up in flames.
So I fell asleep sometime between 2 and 3. And woke up at 2:15 this afternoon. It was wonderful. Except it roused me from a perfectly wonderful dream about how spring break should have gone... well, in general. It, however, also involved a live hamster made of wax and an essential commune with some of the summer guys, and story hour with K and this other chick I haven't talked to in years being relocated into the commune because the wax hamster got melted and it started to rain.... It was a dream, give me a break. But I remember enough of it to be really confusing.
"Happiness isn't happiness without a violin-playing goat."
"What is it about men and nudity? Particularly breasts? How can you be so interested in them? But, but, seriously: they're just breasts. Every second person in the world has them."
Emo thought of the day: "Every once in a while I see a picture and think that I should try harder or try to be a better person to impress them, but then I remember that I shouldn't live my life trying to impress others. They should like me for who I am, not for who I want to be." I'm taking a stand. Or at least I'm going to try. I like the people I try to impress so I'll probably rebound, but still...you should value who I am and stop being such a fucking hypocrite. People need to stop being passive aggressive and grow up when it comes to dealing with people. I'm going to "be selfish," as one of my law classmates put it. I'm going to do what I need to do to make it. If you think you matter right now, believe me, you still do, but I'm just going to keep playing it cool for now, and follow your moves instead of making my own. I'm pretty awesome, and if someone can't see that, then they obviously don't know what they're missing. I have some amazing friends who I love and adore and wouldn't change, but it's every once in a while there are others that I have to step back and re-evaluate. You might make the cut, but you're going to have to fight for it.
In other news, I could write a book about everything that is wrong with the new facebook layout. I hate, hate, hate it. From the rounded-edged pictures to the not knowing whether someone is posting a status or posting to a wall.... I despise it with a fiery passion that runs deep into my soul.
Also, my current procrastination obsession is rumandmonkey.com. Seriously. It's kind of hard to navigate, but they've got some funny shit on there.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
No censors. Just friends. They encourage me. Like the bad-idea bears.
Oh God I would so do Demetri Martin. lol. Tall, lanky, dark shaggy hair... swoon. And he went to law school for a few years. Did you know that? Wikipedia told me that.
OK, so thanks to a friend, I will make what I was oh so vague about at the end of the previous post known. It's really not all that exciting, I just couldn't think of a PC or fb-appropriate way to say I thought my boobs looked great on Tuesday. But as K oh so amazingly pointed out, I shouldn't censor myself for fb, and "having a good boob day is nearly as good as having a good hair day." So I celebrate. For I shall have both on Friday.
I always get this way. I always get so excited, then somehow do something which inevitably leads to my failure in a particular situation. And no, I won't be all vague about this one.
I want an internship in Iowa for this summer. Point blank. However, I haven't really started looking for one, and I'm afraid I'm going to end up working some lame-ass job that has nothing to do with legal. However, I found a job, in Des Moines, that would be perfect for me, that ACTUALLY pays (and pays well!). But, in my experience, I'll do something that will prevent me from getting it, whether it's not sending in the stuff on time, or something random. I'll get all psyched about it and then not follow through.
Same with school, to some extent. I tend to look at the big picture (too big of a picture), which means while I can see where I'll be in like, 10 years, or where I want to be and who I want to be associated with (which changes on a day to day or even hour to hour basis right now, I'm kind of being a crazy chick), I don't necessarily see what I should be doing to reach that point.
I'm kind of in a really weird mood as I write this. It's hard to explain. It feels like a turning point, but I've had these before. But I'm being really honest right now, and it's not tearing me up to do so. It's like, addressing the situation, seeing what I have to do to fix it and move forward, but doing it in such a completely unemotional way. Which is good. I've never really liked showing emotion, or what I'm actually thinking. But emotion is usually needed for revelations. So if revelations happen without a breakdown... woot. Does this make any sense at all? Meh, maybe.
Moving on
Our teachers continue to be entertaining. The latest bout is our contracts professor in story about Steve (who James is convinced is just her "fabulous flamboyant" friend from Cali) proposes to her. She goes to pick out a dress with her friends... "We have a couple of fabulous days, too much wine, a LOT of giggling..." (and try to remember for the purpose of illustration that this day she had to inadvertently wear a cardigan with dinosaurs on it!) And after Steve renegs, she goes to the dressmaker who "couldn't care less if I wore the dress, scampering along the beach toward the water to drown myself, as long as she gets paid." They're crazy, but we love 'em.
Also, this happened awhile back, before spring break, but when the rape talks turned to the implications of determining a cut-off age and guys having sex with underage girls, one of the guys made the mistake of starting his argument with "I can imagine a world..." and stopped talking. We're lawyers, not saints. The whole room started laughing.
But at this precise moment I am currently on the hunt for the mate to a pair of awesome heels I want to wear to the Law Prom on Friday night. I found one. Which means that at some point both of them were in Cambridge. And I haven't taken them home at all. Which means that somewhere in the underlayer of crap and clothes laying about my room or in the closet is the other shoe. They're like 3-inch, black, peep-toe heels. Super cute. And if I can't find it... I suppose I can wear the kitten heels I wore with the dress this summer, but I won't feel nearly as good as I intend to feel in the 3-inchers. Not that they'll stay on for long. Apparently things get pretty wild at this Barrister's Ball, and I found my flask! Oh hellz to the yes.
OK, so thanks to a friend, I will make what I was oh so vague about at the end of the previous post known. It's really not all that exciting, I just couldn't think of a PC or fb-appropriate way to say I thought my boobs looked great on Tuesday. But as K oh so amazingly pointed out, I shouldn't censor myself for fb, and "having a good boob day is nearly as good as having a good hair day." So I celebrate. For I shall have both on Friday.
I always get this way. I always get so excited, then somehow do something which inevitably leads to my failure in a particular situation. And no, I won't be all vague about this one.
I want an internship in Iowa for this summer. Point blank. However, I haven't really started looking for one, and I'm afraid I'm going to end up working some lame-ass job that has nothing to do with legal. However, I found a job, in Des Moines, that would be perfect for me, that ACTUALLY pays (and pays well!). But, in my experience, I'll do something that will prevent me from getting it, whether it's not sending in the stuff on time, or something random. I'll get all psyched about it and then not follow through.
Same with school, to some extent. I tend to look at the big picture (too big of a picture), which means while I can see where I'll be in like, 10 years, or where I want to be and who I want to be associated with (which changes on a day to day or even hour to hour basis right now, I'm kind of being a crazy chick), I don't necessarily see what I should be doing to reach that point.
I'm kind of in a really weird mood as I write this. It's hard to explain. It feels like a turning point, but I've had these before. But I'm being really honest right now, and it's not tearing me up to do so. It's like, addressing the situation, seeing what I have to do to fix it and move forward, but doing it in such a completely unemotional way. Which is good. I've never really liked showing emotion, or what I'm actually thinking. But emotion is usually needed for revelations. So if revelations happen without a breakdown... woot. Does this make any sense at all? Meh, maybe.
Moving on
Our teachers continue to be entertaining. The latest bout is our contracts professor in story about Steve (who James is convinced is just her "fabulous flamboyant" friend from Cali) proposes to her. She goes to pick out a dress with her friends... "We have a couple of fabulous days, too much wine, a LOT of giggling..." (and try to remember for the purpose of illustration that this day she had to inadvertently wear a cardigan with dinosaurs on it!) And after Steve renegs, she goes to the dressmaker who "couldn't care less if I wore the dress, scampering along the beach toward the water to drown myself, as long as she gets paid." They're crazy, but we love 'em.
Also, this happened awhile back, before spring break, but when the rape talks turned to the implications of determining a cut-off age and guys having sex with underage girls, one of the guys made the mistake of starting his argument with "I can imagine a world..." and stopped talking. We're lawyers, not saints. The whole room started laughing.
But at this precise moment I am currently on the hunt for the mate to a pair of awesome heels I want to wear to the Law Prom on Friday night. I found one. Which means that at some point both of them were in Cambridge. And I haven't taken them home at all. Which means that somewhere in the underlayer of crap and clothes laying about my room or in the closet is the other shoe. They're like 3-inch, black, peep-toe heels. Super cute. And if I can't find it... I suppose I can wear the kitten heels I wore with the dress this summer, but I won't feel nearly as good as I intend to feel in the 3-inchers. Not that they'll stay on for long. Apparently things get pretty wild at this Barrister's Ball, and I found my flask! Oh hellz to the yes.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Love is for sissies (at least that's what you said)
aka: allow me to rant.
I've realized that my last post was actually more soul-revealing and attackatory than I usually like. If you look deeper, at least. Maybe not on the surface but yeah, there are some pretty derogatory comments toward a few people. But I'm not taking them back. It's what I felt at the time, and I'm not going to apologize for those opinions. I like to say, "oops, I'm sorry," as those of you who know me know very well, even for the small things, but this is not one of those times. So back the fuck off.
I cannot wait to get the hell out of Boston and back to Iowa. Yes, the people here are great, (and I like sharing stories too and they even share their poetry about their guy they're getting over. we've got the whole trust thing going) and I'll be said to leave them after going to the darkest depths of our souls and back for a year together, but at the same time... I still can't like the whole huge city, not going out/not having the option of hanging out at night because the house is so far from anything and the subways stop at 1am. I'll have my own apartment, even if it's small. I'll be a complete bitch to my landlord and if anything is wrong I will be calling. Like tonight. Are you trying to tell me I can't pee in our own toilet because you don't want to call the guy? Ridiculous. I want to be in an actual apartment complex. That may sound weird, but that's what I want right now. (see the original location of this blog at blogger.com/ctinalk to see what I plan on having in my apartment. the list is pretty epic. it even includes a designated "no-pants" night.)
It's taking me less time to get back into the swing of things this time around. As in, getting back into studying for class after coming back from an extended break. This one was longer than October, and I had a harder time back then. I dunno why. Maybe it's because I have to, maybe it's to keep my mind busy. One thing I am sure of though is that I need to get new glasses this summer when I'm back to the optometrist. Yes, I do like the glasses I have, and if I could just get new lenses for them that would rock, I kind of like the librarian look, but my eyes are bad and get slightly worse, and I got these the summer before sophomore year, so I need an upgrade. My contacts just dry out so much before the end of the day, and I'm stuck struggling trying to finish my readings with blurriness and frustration.
And for the return of a long-abandoned tradition, back with us for this post is my "This is what I do to procrastinate this week." This time it is Plague of Kittens. I think I'm more entertained by the sound effects than anything else. You bounce kittens with a mattress, trying not to let them die by hitting the ground. They splatter entertainingly when they do die though. *ah! there's so many of them!* And you get points by bouncing them higher and if you bounce them high and hard enough you get a great angry cat scream. Hasn't failed to cheer me up yet, though I suggest you use a real moused computer, it's kind of irritating on the touchpad.
Seriously. I don't get it. Where do these mysterious bruises and scrapes keep coming from? Back of the hand, arm, calf? One of them was so prominent last Monday it led T and N to tease me about "liking it rough." I honestly don't know. Or don't remember. I'm forgetting a lot of stuff lately though. Unless it's directly related to law school or class, I'm a ditz.
I have something else I want to get off my chest (nearly literally) but I don't think it would be appropriate to put here, seeing as it gets posted to FB and all. And I don't want to sound really arrogant. But if you're intrigued enough by this vague reference again, let me know, I'll tell you.
Hmmm... I think that's it for now.
I've realized that my last post was actually more soul-revealing and attackatory than I usually like. If you look deeper, at least. Maybe not on the surface but yeah, there are some pretty derogatory comments toward a few people. But I'm not taking them back. It's what I felt at the time, and I'm not going to apologize for those opinions. I like to say, "oops, I'm sorry," as those of you who know me know very well, even for the small things, but this is not one of those times. So back the fuck off.
I cannot wait to get the hell out of Boston and back to Iowa. Yes, the people here are great, (and I like sharing stories too and they even share their poetry about their guy they're getting over. we've got the whole trust thing going) and I'll be said to leave them after going to the darkest depths of our souls and back for a year together, but at the same time... I still can't like the whole huge city, not going out/not having the option of hanging out at night because the house is so far from anything and the subways stop at 1am. I'll have my own apartment, even if it's small. I'll be a complete bitch to my landlord and if anything is wrong I will be calling. Like tonight. Are you trying to tell me I can't pee in our own toilet because you don't want to call the guy? Ridiculous. I want to be in an actual apartment complex. That may sound weird, but that's what I want right now. (see the original location of this blog at blogger.com/ctinalk to see what I plan on having in my apartment. the list is pretty epic. it even includes a designated "no-pants" night.)
It's taking me less time to get back into the swing of things this time around. As in, getting back into studying for class after coming back from an extended break. This one was longer than October, and I had a harder time back then. I dunno why. Maybe it's because I have to, maybe it's to keep my mind busy. One thing I am sure of though is that I need to get new glasses this summer when I'm back to the optometrist. Yes, I do like the glasses I have, and if I could just get new lenses for them that would rock, I kind of like the librarian look, but my eyes are bad and get slightly worse, and I got these the summer before sophomore year, so I need an upgrade. My contacts just dry out so much before the end of the day, and I'm stuck struggling trying to finish my readings with blurriness and frustration.
And for the return of a long-abandoned tradition, back with us for this post is my "This is what I do to procrastinate this week." This time it is Plague of Kittens. I think I'm more entertained by the sound effects than anything else. You bounce kittens with a mattress, trying not to let them die by hitting the ground. They splatter entertainingly when they do die though. *ah! there's so many of them!* And you get points by bouncing them higher and if you bounce them high and hard enough you get a great angry cat scream. Hasn't failed to cheer me up yet, though I suggest you use a real moused computer, it's kind of irritating on the touchpad.
Seriously. I don't get it. Where do these mysterious bruises and scrapes keep coming from? Back of the hand, arm, calf? One of them was so prominent last Monday it led T and N to tease me about "liking it rough." I honestly don't know. Or don't remember. I'm forgetting a lot of stuff lately though. Unless it's directly related to law school or class, I'm a ditz.
I have something else I want to get off my chest (nearly literally) but I don't think it would be appropriate to put here, seeing as it gets posted to FB and all. And I don't want to sound really arrogant. But if you're intrigued enough by this vague reference again, let me know, I'll tell you.
Hmmm... I think that's it for now.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Ames recon:recap
Hmmm... not sure where to start. There were some highlights of the week, but otherwise a pretty big let-down, from the very first full day to the very last minute. I think the last one was on Thursday-ish, but lets go back to Tuesday.
Got to tour Drake law with an old friend who now goes there. I really like the campus, and I'd be able to get a fairly cheap (compared to Boston) right near the campus. Even if it is a couple blocks away, I really don't mind the walking. I could see myself there, which is a feeling I did NOT get with New England or anywhere else, even Iowa (more about Iowa later). If at all possible, I will be transferring back, no matter what. Hear that guys? REGARDLESS.
Got supper with another friend that night. She layed the smack down, which I needed to hear. Nobody was telling me anything, and to hear what I thought I needed to hear anyway was good. <3
Wednesday. Got up early and went to breakfast and coffee/latte with S. Hashed out our lives for an hour. I don't remember what I really did until about 3, when I went to go meet with A, catch up with him and pour my soul. I miss those meetings. Oddly enough, I felt more open as not a student under him than I did as an advisee. Stalked AA and W, who weren't home. W was NEVER home. And stopped answering his texts. Come on man, I just wanted to see you, I have no ill intentions. Did your drunk dial get you in trouble with the missus?
Wednesday night was brilliant. After supper with my Helser boys (wonderful!) I went to drink the truth potion made of beer (aka the Gryphonbrau) at Olde Main with K. Delicious and it definitely got me talking again. Ended the night with Demetri Martin at K's. Ended up on the floor yet again. Whenever I get drunk I tend to end up on the floor: the subway station, New Years, Wednesday... Why?
Thursday was Iowa. The admissions guy was super nice and I found out I only have to be in the top 25%, but I did not like the city of Iowa City. We shall see. Supper with J again, laying more smackdown. IRHA was brilliant, hilarious, but long. Not enough time at the bars afterward. It was S's birthday, so I had two groups to go between. Finally saw A2 for more than 10 awkward seconds... no comment. Went back to K2's and made grilled cheese. I don't know how I failed at it, but I burnt the first set BAD. Even the crazy cats wouldn't eat them.
Friday. Class. Make... stuff. Pack. KQ. Kaliedoquiz was kind of a let-down after having such a huge and well-organized team under Lando last year. I was the only over-21-year-old able to leave the building after awhile, so I had to go searching for Grizzly Adams by myself, running into A2 on the way around the bars. He had me drink his Bud Light (ew, don't blame me Sam, not my choice!), about 2 cans worth, on no supper. Then I had to drive. Woot. Again, no comments from me. Hey, I tried to get him to join the KQ team, but just like a lot of people, ditched us. At least we had some pretty dedicated people. N, T, K3M, R... I'm just glad I went back to K2's and got some sleep and a shower before returning at noon. I couldn't have functioned.
Hung out at the hall desk and collected some things Swedish (aka: Absolute and Svedka vodkas) on Saturday before driving home in the pouring rain. Lightning over Cedar Rapids... fml.
Flights were fine, fast. I thought for sure that finally the airline would lose my luggage so it would be delivered instead of me having to lug it through Boston, what with only having a 20 minute layover in Minneapolis. But no. It was late on the carousel, but it was there.
Then finally today. I haven't really expressed the extent of the crap-itude of the week. Let's just say, it didn't turn out as I would have wished. So today the mom of the class noticed I was in a crappy mood and sad and had like a 20 minute talk with me about what was wrong and gave me advice. Hopefully.
Then I vented to L. And she got me laughing, gave me hope and cheered me up. Some quotes from her, randomly, I don't even remember exactly what we were looking at, I just remember typing them:
"She's not a blonde! With big boobs! She's only how old? She looks like she's already popped out three kids! The blondes are so much more likely to look like, you know, disheveled and used, like how many have you been on? And huge tits, with a light colored shirt and a black bra! I'd notice her too after 5 shots of tequila. Like whoa! Big boob!"
"Dude, I could totally make a porn out of you two. Your motivation is the frustration of law school and the ex and.... I'm a frustrated artist, I could do it objectively..."
Got to tour Drake law with an old friend who now goes there. I really like the campus, and I'd be able to get a fairly cheap (compared to Boston) right near the campus. Even if it is a couple blocks away, I really don't mind the walking. I could see myself there, which is a feeling I did NOT get with New England or anywhere else, even Iowa (more about Iowa later). If at all possible, I will be transferring back, no matter what. Hear that guys? REGARDLESS.
Got supper with another friend that night. She layed the smack down, which I needed to hear. Nobody was telling me anything, and to hear what I thought I needed to hear anyway was good. <3
Wednesday. Got up early and went to breakfast and coffee/latte with S. Hashed out our lives for an hour. I don't remember what I really did until about 3, when I went to go meet with A, catch up with him and pour my soul. I miss those meetings. Oddly enough, I felt more open as not a student under him than I did as an advisee. Stalked AA and W, who weren't home. W was NEVER home. And stopped answering his texts. Come on man, I just wanted to see you, I have no ill intentions. Did your drunk dial get you in trouble with the missus?
Wednesday night was brilliant. After supper with my Helser boys (wonderful!) I went to drink the truth potion made of beer (aka the Gryphonbrau) at Olde Main with K. Delicious and it definitely got me talking again. Ended the night with Demetri Martin at K's. Ended up on the floor yet again. Whenever I get drunk I tend to end up on the floor: the subway station, New Years, Wednesday... Why?
Thursday was Iowa. The admissions guy was super nice and I found out I only have to be in the top 25%, but I did not like the city of Iowa City. We shall see. Supper with J again, laying more smackdown. IRHA was brilliant, hilarious, but long. Not enough time at the bars afterward. It was S's birthday, so I had two groups to go between. Finally saw A2 for more than 10 awkward seconds... no comment. Went back to K2's and made grilled cheese. I don't know how I failed at it, but I burnt the first set BAD. Even the crazy cats wouldn't eat them.
Friday. Class. Make... stuff. Pack. KQ. Kaliedoquiz was kind of a let-down after having such a huge and well-organized team under Lando last year. I was the only over-21-year-old able to leave the building after awhile, so I had to go searching for Grizzly Adams by myself, running into A2 on the way around the bars. He had me drink his Bud Light (ew, don't blame me Sam, not my choice!), about 2 cans worth, on no supper. Then I had to drive. Woot. Again, no comments from me. Hey, I tried to get him to join the KQ team, but just like a lot of people, ditched us. At least we had some pretty dedicated people. N, T, K3M, R... I'm just glad I went back to K2's and got some sleep and a shower before returning at noon. I couldn't have functioned.
Hung out at the hall desk and collected some things Swedish (aka: Absolute and Svedka vodkas) on Saturday before driving home in the pouring rain. Lightning over Cedar Rapids... fml.
Flights were fine, fast. I thought for sure that finally the airline would lose my luggage so it would be delivered instead of me having to lug it through Boston, what with only having a 20 minute layover in Minneapolis. But no. It was late on the carousel, but it was there.
Then finally today. I haven't really expressed the extent of the crap-itude of the week. Let's just say, it didn't turn out as I would have wished. So today the mom of the class noticed I was in a crappy mood and sad and had like a 20 minute talk with me about what was wrong and gave me advice. Hopefully.
Then I vented to L. And she got me laughing, gave me hope and cheered me up. Some quotes from her, randomly, I don't even remember exactly what we were looking at, I just remember typing them:
"She's not a blonde! With big boobs! She's only how old? She looks like she's already popped out three kids! The blondes are so much more likely to look like, you know, disheveled and used, like how many have you been on? And huge tits, with a light colored shirt and a black bra! I'd notice her too after 5 shots of tequila. Like whoa! Big boob!"
"Dude, I could totally make a porn out of you two. Your motivation is the frustration of law school and the ex and.... I'm a frustrated artist, I could do it objectively..."
Friday, March 6, 2009
Get ready for a mind-fuck
I kind of feel like being INCREDIBLY vague tonight, as I slip past my self-imposed "go to sleep time" quietly.
So, here goes. Iowa. Not bad. Pretty good weather. Great friends. Er, some of them are. The ones that I try to listen to their stories too but inevitably end up obsessing over my current worries. The ones that actually show up and tell you when they're going to see you and, and, yeah...
There is a phenomenon that I will refer to Schrodinger's cat in Iowa as well. You never know until you open the can of worms whether the cat is alive or not. And you have no control over the cat, or the box. But the cat, well, you don't see the cat enough to actually figure out whether it's alive or dead, and sometimes the cat will make gestures towards being alive, but then it keels over and acts like it's dead for weeks at time. So after a while you stop just wondering, and start just being pissed at the cat. It needs to either be doing an Irish Jig or wearing cement shoes in the Charles River. Alive, or dead. Because eventually, the scientist is going to get tired of the cat's games and move on to a more reliable experiment.
Then there's the pothead. The one who started smoking pot just for fun, but lately the drug has been taking up more and more of their time. They start missing classes to toke up and even friends of friends start to worry. An intervention is talked about, but noone will do it because of the fear of repercussions and losing the person permanently.
And finally, the one thing you've finally been talked into and convinced that you have to do. But will probably chicken out in the process of and not complete. A mission that has been assigned to you for nearly four years, yet only in recent months has there been any possible hope or glimmer of a possible success. The plan may play out perfectly, the time that you've waited for and know exactly what to say when will come and go, with no conclusion, and just a "stupid stupid stupid," playing over and over and over in your head, instead of focusing on this new more reliable experiment.
Yay! If you can tell me what those analogies mean, or if you want clarification, you can tell me what you think they mean, but I may not answer. There's a reason they're analogies and not solid facts.
Other highlights of my trip to Ames thus far:
Mandie!
Kelly!
Kimber
Jewels!
Drake Law (If I had to pick between Iowa and Drake, I'm not sure which I'd chose. Drake campus is amazing, but Iowa is such a higher-ranked school. AND I found out I only have to be in the top 25%, since I was a genius mofo and kept my Iowa residency. Drake has it's drawbacks too though....)
Inferiority complex.
Pokage
Driving
Swear words
Being one of the guys again
My boys!!!
Hearing honest opinions/being told the truth
Excitement
Pissed off Japanese minnow Farmer
The Amazing truth potion made of beer, aka: the Gryphonbrau from Olde Main (it got me talking and admitting things I usually would never tell)
Realizing it was the plan that I not sleep with anyone this break
er... yeah. the end. more to come.
So, here goes. Iowa. Not bad. Pretty good weather. Great friends. Er, some of them are. The ones that I try to listen to their stories too but inevitably end up obsessing over my current worries. The ones that actually show up and tell you when they're going to see you and, and, yeah...
There is a phenomenon that I will refer to Schrodinger's cat in Iowa as well. You never know until you open the can of worms whether the cat is alive or not. And you have no control over the cat, or the box. But the cat, well, you don't see the cat enough to actually figure out whether it's alive or dead, and sometimes the cat will make gestures towards being alive, but then it keels over and acts like it's dead for weeks at time. So after a while you stop just wondering, and start just being pissed at the cat. It needs to either be doing an Irish Jig or wearing cement shoes in the Charles River. Alive, or dead. Because eventually, the scientist is going to get tired of the cat's games and move on to a more reliable experiment.
Then there's the pothead. The one who started smoking pot just for fun, but lately the drug has been taking up more and more of their time. They start missing classes to toke up and even friends of friends start to worry. An intervention is talked about, but noone will do it because of the fear of repercussions and losing the person permanently.
And finally, the one thing you've finally been talked into and convinced that you have to do. But will probably chicken out in the process of and not complete. A mission that has been assigned to you for nearly four years, yet only in recent months has there been any possible hope or glimmer of a possible success. The plan may play out perfectly, the time that you've waited for and know exactly what to say when will come and go, with no conclusion, and just a "stupid stupid stupid," playing over and over and over in your head, instead of focusing on this new more reliable experiment.
Yay! If you can tell me what those analogies mean, or if you want clarification, you can tell me what you think they mean, but I may not answer. There's a reason they're analogies and not solid facts.
Other highlights of my trip to Ames thus far:
Mandie!
Kelly!
Kimber
Jewels!
Drake Law (If I had to pick between Iowa and Drake, I'm not sure which I'd chose. Drake campus is amazing, but Iowa is such a higher-ranked school. AND I found out I only have to be in the top 25%, since I was a genius mofo and kept my Iowa residency. Drake has it's drawbacks too though....)
Inferiority complex.
Pokage
Driving
Swear words
Being one of the guys again
My boys!!!
Hearing honest opinions/being told the truth
Excitement
Pissed off Japanese minnow Farmer
The Amazing truth potion made of beer, aka: the Gryphonbrau from Olde Main (it got me talking and admitting things I usually would never tell)
Realizing it was the plan that I not sleep with anyone this break
er... yeah. the end. more to come.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Here are my observations thus far
~My carry-on bag looks like a whore, with plane-side tickets from American, United and Northwest.
~The airline gods must have been smiling on me this time around. I landed in Moline a few minutes ahead of schedule.
~I've become an angry driver. I tend to yell grossly obscene things at the other drivers.
~Heaven on Earth is rocking to Bohemian Rhapsody while cruising down the highway.
~You've succeeded if your hairstylist says she's loving the color you've dyed your hair.
~Alcohol does magical things in my car.
~Dogs like me. I think this is a good thing. On a mostly unrelated note I've decided I'm going to marry K's next-door neighbor and we will have beautiful babies.
~Some people will surprise you when you least expect it. For the better. And others surprise you when you realize you need to start looking out for the ones who always seemed to be able to look out for themselves.
~I love the sense of humor my friends bring out of me back in Iowa. Example: The only explanation I could come up with for a license plate that said IDVDBYO on an ISU specialty plate was : I'd venereal disease bring your own. "Ya know, we're having a party. You need to bring your own STD though because you know I don't date clean boys..."
~The airline gods must have been smiling on me this time around. I landed in Moline a few minutes ahead of schedule.
~I've become an angry driver. I tend to yell grossly obscene things at the other drivers.
~Heaven on Earth is rocking to Bohemian Rhapsody while cruising down the highway.
~You've succeeded if your hairstylist says she's loving the color you've dyed your hair.
~Alcohol does magical things in my car.
~Dogs like me. I think this is a good thing. On a mostly unrelated note I've decided I'm going to marry K's next-door neighbor and we will have beautiful babies.
~Some people will surprise you when you least expect it. For the better. And others surprise you when you realize you need to start looking out for the ones who always seemed to be able to look out for themselves.
~I love the sense of humor my friends bring out of me back in Iowa. Example: The only explanation I could come up with for a license plate that said IDVDBYO on an ISU specialty plate was : I'd venereal disease bring your own. "Ya know, we're having a party. You need to bring your own STD though because you know I don't date clean boys..."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
