Grumpy Gus

It is unfortunate that 4 hours of classes and 5 hours of reading a day tend to make me a grumpy gus. If you've only been reading my accounts of school thus far you may be under the impression that I'm not a fan. Thankfully it's actually the opposite.

I'm supremely happy with my decision and though there is a lot of work involved it feels wonderful (most of the time). I even managed to go out with two of my good friends, their boyfriends and D last night and not bore everyone to death! When it comes down to it, I know that I made the right decision. I have begun on the path towards a challenging and ultimately rewarding career.

I am also fortunate to have had experiences that have helped me to see that one always needs life outside of work/school. While I am undoubtedly thrilled with my "new career," I have so many other things to look forward to in my personal life. The balance that I've achieved in the past year is mind blowing and I feel more in control and more happy than I had in a long time.

Ahhhhhhh, life is good...!

I can't wait 'til...

1. October. Seems arbitrary, but I feel like this "back to school" horror will be over by then.

2. I actually understand what I'm reading.

3. Briefing a case takes less than an hour

4. Reading a case takes less than 2 hours

5. My head stops hurting

6. I can actually sleep through the night

7. I finish reading for Contracts.

8. I have something interesting to write about that does not involve school (sadly, I've actually only been at this a week)

*BIG siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh*

Last night I ventured away from my desk and myriad case books, computer, notes, outlines, briefs, etc. and went to D's. We had dinner in front of the television and watched "To Catch a Thief" with Carey Grant and Grace Kelly. I highly recommend this film. It was funny. It was cute. Sure it was old, but it's classic. (And D said I have Grace Kelly's lips...awwww.) It is probably one of the more exciting aspects of my week. Oh right, except the yachting on Saturday, but there's not much to report to the blog-o-sphere with regards to that except that I did it and it was a wonderful day (thanks D!).

And now I really must stop procrastinating and get on with it.

You Know You're in Law School When...

I woke up around 6:30 this morning, right out of some bizarre dream and the first thoughts that went through my mind went a little something like this:

"We could easily ask for a motion to dismiss and Judge F (there was a whole name attached, but I can't remember it now) would certainly grant; but it may be to our advantage to ask for a mistrial to allow counsel the opportunity for greater discovery."

Contracts

UCC section 2-313 (2):

"It is not necessary to the creation of an express warranty that the seller use formal words such as "warrant" or "guarantee" or that he have a specific intention to make a warranty, but an affirmation merely of the value of the goods or a statement purporting to be merely the seller's opinion or commendation of the goods does not create a warrant."

Oy.

Summer Reading

I had ordered a bunch of books (or rather "reserved" them from my local library) before heading to the beach a month ago. Unfortunately not a single one came in time and have now been drifting in slowly over the remainder of the summer (which, for me, ends tomorrow). There was really only one book on the list that I really wanted to read: Bringing Home the Birkin by Michael Tonello. I finally got it and could not put it down.

For starters, Tonello is a wonderfully colloquial writer; you feel as though you're having dinner and cocktails with him while he relates this odd tale of "importing/exporting." It makes you jealous that you didn't think of it first. You feel like he's a friend, or at least someone you really want to befriend! I had trouble putting it down when it came to cook/eat dinner and then again later in the evening when I really needed to get some sleep! All in all it is one of the best "chick-lit" books I've ever read (and, ironically, it was written by a man). At points he had me laughing aloud and sharing certain passages with any who was in the the room with me.

The unofficial end of summer is quickly approaching and the lazy days of light reading will go along with them. So, while you still have the chance, run out and pick up Tonello's book. I promise it will not disappoint.

Wet 'n Wild

I am not kidding when I say I've been waiting for this my entire life: Tropical Storm Fay has hit! Sure, it's not spelled the same (it's missing the "e"), but close enough. When I was little we used to go to "Wings" when at the beach. They sell all kinds of cheap crap with names on them. Never ever ever did they have key chains or mugs or other cheap do-hickeys with my name on it. And this was in the South. Womp womp! Finally, finally, I have my tropical storm.

I was so excited when I turned on the TV to see if the Olympics were on and was greeted with my tropical storm, that I ran out to the porch where my parents were having a leisurely breakfast and jumped up and down. It felt like my birthday.

An hour or so later, D texted me, "Tropical storm Fay. Your secret's out!!!" The next day B called me to let me know that I was pounding her (and the rest of Florida).

Isn't it fun to be strong, menacing, wet 'n wild?

The Way It Should Be

I spent the weekend on the Choptank River in MD attending a wedding reception/barbecue weekend for one of D's college friends. The whole affair was decidedly low-key: guests were invited to arrive at 2pm and when we showed up at 2:20 both bride and groom were in bathing suits; dinner was a buffet-style burgers, pulled pork, hot dogs, corn, potato salad, mac and cheese, seat-yourself do; no toasts were given, no stuffy formalities; guests were invited to stay overnight on the grounds in tents. The couple was married about 6 weeks ago in a family ceremony and have already been on their honeymoon. Almost everyone we talked to agreed: this is how a wedding should be.

In my opinion the big 150-300 guest events lack a certain level of intimacy that something like, oh say, a wedding seems to demand (will these same people invite everyone they or their parents know to the delivery room when the first child is born? "Oh look everyone, if you peer at my wife's vagina you can see the head crowning! Grab your cameras!"). I've never had visions of a big lavish do for myself. Sure I'd like the pretty dress and some nice flowers, but spending what could be my down-payment on a house for a one day party seems a bit ludicrous. One needs to remember what's important about a wedding: the marriage.

I had recently read an article about post-nuptial blues that overtake some brides after the wedding is over. Some of these women spend a year or more planning their weddings to the smallest details. They hand pick everything and are involved with every aspect. Some of them even quit their jobs to take on planning their party full time. Then, when it's over, what are they left with? A champagne hang-over, a new ring and a new husband. Sounds alright to me (minus the hang over), but without all this planning and anticipation these women don't know what to do. Suddenly they are not the center of attention. Suddenly, for the ones who quit their jobs, they have tons of time to fill and nothing to fill it with. How did we get to this point? And with this kind of mind-set is it really so surprising that so many marriages end up in divorce? Instead of focusing on learning how to live their day to day life with another person, too many brides are focused on a party that will be over in the blink of an eye. Marriage, however, lasts a lifetime (or is supposed to, hence those vows you take...).

This past weekend's wedding makes me feel better about the whole thing. I have a coworker who is planning her wedding and listening to her drone on about place cards and flatware puts me into a coma. Maybe I'm missing some female gene that makes women obsessed with all things wedding, but it simply doesn't interest me (well, admittedly I like to watch "Whose Wedding is it Anyway," but when it comes to thinking about my own I'd rather just pop down to the courthouse with my parents, brother and a few close friends, go out for a great dinner and some dancing and then maybe throw a party later, once we've figured out the logistics of taking two and making one).

To realize that there are other people out there who would rather share the intimate act of exchanging vows with only those who really care (close family and friends...usually less than 50 people) and then celebrating in a way everyone can enjoy (no suits and ties, completely kid-friendly), makes me smile. Forget obsessing over napkin colors, table arrangements, aisle runners, taper candles vs. votives, and instead shift focus to what you are actually doing: opening up your life, every bit of minutia, to someone else. The wedding is not the end all be all, it is only the beginning...

Does anyone know...?

There's this car insurance commercial (Allstate, maybe?) that has a woman, probably close to my age, asking everyone and anyone questions about deductibles, rates, comprehensive vs. collision, etc. I mean, she's asking everyone. I feel like her. I have a slight problem and am going out of my mind, so I keep asking everyone what I should do. I'm completely torn because I see the reasoning behind both choices, but I can't come up with a decision to save my life. I will make that decision by default if I don't come to a conclusion soon.

Augh! Rock and a hard place...I'm there.

**UPDATE

My brother, the philospher, helped me with the answer. This flies in the face of my theory that philosophers never answer questions, they only generate them. *sigh* In any case, I'm grateful.

Bubbly Bubbles

Bizarre dreams are nothing new and the fact that they are theatrical and intricate is rather delightful. Last night's was no exception. It started with a winter scene of me standing at the train station awaiting the train that would presumably whisk me off to work. But instead of being the typical SEPTA train it was one of those "olde time"-y numbers with curtains in the windows and velvet seats (not a bad way to commute...). Anyway, at some point I end up with some of my extended family at some restaurant/bar/club and we are offered a glass of their speciality drink. Of course we all accept.

This drink was odd. If you are familiar with bubble tea you'll have a better idea of what I'm about to describe: in the bottom of a champagne flute, rested about 6 spheres of different colors. We were told that they added an "extra kick" to the rose champagne that was then poured on top of the spheres. At first the bubbles were small, as is expected with champagne or sparkling wine. Then the spheres started adding their own bubbles. These bubbles were crazy colors and foamed to the top of the glass over and over again. The effects of this drink were a bit like throwing back shots of whiskey for an hour straight.

After having my extra bubbly bubbly I returned back to the house my family was apparently sharing and fell asleep. I woke up to find I was sharing the room with a couple of my cousins and this guy, Brian, with whom I work (note: I'm not particularly fond of Brian). I stand up and look in the mirror. I have on electric, sparkly blue eyeliner topped off with deep blue mascara. I'm stark naked and looking good. I go into the bathroom and climb into my shower that has a curtain of white lace.

And that's that. One thing that stuck with me was this drink. I think it sounds wonderful. I wonder if I could find someone to make it for me...The other thing that stuck with me was the opulence that surrounded me throughout the dream. All the curtains and rich fabrics. The bright colors and lush rooms. It's times like this that I wish I could draw....

I Heart PBS

To further my image as a huge nerd, I readily admit to anyone and everyone my love for PBS. I absolutely adore Nova, my guilty pleasures include This Old House and Arthur (yes, I still like that somewhat annoying aardvark), I am a big fan of Nature (and all other shows in this genre) and I like to catch random little documentaries whenever I can (oh, and I forgot, every so often Antiques Roadshow is fun, too).

Last night I did catch [part of] one of those random little documentaries. A geneticist was traveling around, following the bones of our ancestors, trying to figure out why, and how, they left Africa. He uses DNA in our blood as the basis for his conclusions about human ancestry. After he left Africa he went to Australia, where the next oldest human remains (40,000-45,000 years old) are located. However, when he asked Aborigines about why and how their African ancestors may have come to the continent, he was met with stark opposition. The Australians whom he met did not believe they came from Africa. They did not believe they came from primates, either. At this point I was pretty tired and flipped off the TV and headed for bed. But watching just that half of the documentary got my mind turning on a subject that I struggle with over and over again.

I was raised Episcopalian but no longer attend church. I believe in science and I do not believe that science and religion need be diametrically opposed. In fact, if you look at them in tandem they go rather well together. Here's my struggle: evolution is a theory. I cannot, however, believe or wrap my mind around Creationism. I simply do not believe that some divine being created the world as we know it in 6 days. Sorry, no. I do believe that something got the ball rolling; that we were designed to be the way we were and to evolve into what we are and it may be that we will continue to evolve.

I say "divine being" because the entity known as "God" that I grew up learning about does not make a lick of sense to me. Supposedly it is gendered. I can't buy that. Supposedly "he" is benevolent and loves us all and yet at the same time is incredibly petty and jealous (does this not sound like a woman to you? If we really need to gender this being then it should be a she). I have a hard time believing that it would be overly concerned with the fact that I say "shit, fuck, damn, hell, bitch, motherfucker, ass, asshole, shithead" and any others you can think of. I cannot see myself relegated to eternal damnation for "cursing" (nor am I entirely convinced that there is a heaven and hell. I lean more towards reincarnation...but that's for another day).

What I do believe is, again, that something got this whole thing started. That there is some greater power than myself. I also believe that the power resides within each and every one of us. We have massive brains and are inherently inquisitive. We are able to ask and ponder abstract philosophical questions. Our bodies are unbelievably complex and efficient machines. I believe that my body is a temple. I want it to be the absolute best it can be. I want to be fit, I want to be strong, I want to be healthy. I believe that "looking inside ourselves" will provide us with answers. Now, whether you do this through meditation (which I think is excellent and wish I could really do), prayer (you're acknowledging your fears, hopes, wishes, desires, sorrows and happiness), fasting, or any other way doesn't seem to matter. It's a matter of awareness.

I do not believe that I must reflect in a designated spot. I believe "meditating" while I run is the most spiritual time of my day. I am out in nature, I see things as they are and my mind is open, my body doing what it's built to do. This is when I feel connected to something higher than myself, but that connection is within me. I've never really liked churches. I watch so many people simply going through the motions, being led without much thought. Spiritual guidance is not something I frown upon in any way. It's when you feel like it's the only way you can connect with that higher state that makes me worry.

I have not been a student of world religions, but when I've talked to people they say I have a more Eastern view of religion. The body is a temple; the power is within us; only we can connect ourselves with our spirituality; nature is near perfect place to contemplate the world and the universe (which is what I refer to this higher being as: the universe). It may sound odd to say, but I like my view. It feels right. When I think about it I feel easy, peaceful, happy. I feel like doing all things to better myself. To me, this is an indication that what I believe is right for me, even if it's not right for anyone else.

Man, is there any other TV channel that can cause this much thought? I heart PBS.