Tuesday, November 26, 2002


Gnat just came over with a book to read, another plotless series of rhymes. Some are Seuss books - and I know this is heresy, but some of his drawings creep me out. There’s a book on feet (“In the house and on the street, how many different feet you meet!” which is an exhortation to a life of desperate fetishism, if you ask me) and it actually contains the words HERE COMES CLOWN FEET, which is something I hear in my worst dreams. Much of Seuss’ loopy charm comes from his inability to draw actual identifiable figures. Yet they just hook kids; the drawings of Sandra Boynton, which are far more accomplished and inventive, don’t have the same elemental appeal. Curious George, however, she loved right away - monkeys must strike kids as pure fuzzy id. We read that book a lot.

Partly because I love Curious George, and have read ahead to make sure there are no clown feet.


You know, Bazooka bubblegum has little fortunes on the comics, like fortune cookies. Mine was “Ideas don’t work unless you do.” Bennett’s was “People who know the least argue the most.”

I think they were backwards.

Friday was Bazooka Day in Torts class, which we didn’t know about till we got there. The professor passed around a carton of Bazooka for all eighty of us and told us the story of how he decided to become a lawyer.

When he was in eighth grade he had a paper route, and he loved to buy Bazooka bubblegum with his earnings. One day in class, his eighth grade teacher told him he couldn’t chew bubblegum in class, because he didn’t have enough for everyone.

“This,” he tells us gravely, “was a problem I knew how to fix.” So he bought a carton of Bazooka, which cost him about twenty dollars. The next day at school before class he began to hand out bubblegum to all of the other students. The teacher confiscated his bubblegum and sent him to the principal’s office.

“So that day,” intones Professor Torts, “I decided to become a lawyer, to fight this kind of injustice wherever it occurs and make sure nothing like that ever happens again. So once every year I bring Bazooka and have my whole class chew it, to celebrate becoming a lawyer and my own triumph over injustice.”


This morning on the shuttle I overheard a second year and first year discussing exam-studying strategies. “I didn’t start studying until after Thanksgiving,” sez 2nd year, “and I didn’t do quite as well on exams as I’d hoped, but I did fine.” 1st year was listening raptly, asking questions and taking in everything 2nd year said. Why is this so crazy? You ask.

Well, because 2nd year had just finished talking about how she had a 45-page paper due at school today for her 8 p.m. class, and that she was on page 29. Now why on earth would you take exam advice from someone who waited until they had less than 12 hours to write a 45-page paper? Obviously she hadn’t even written a draft of the paper, because if she had she would have had more than 29 pages. That means she’s turning in what is essentially her first draft of a 45-page paper.

Crazy. Why not just save your money and go to a state school, if that’s how you feel about it?


Now we’re talking about bait in Constitutional law. Yes, you read it correctly; we’re studying the Dormant Commerce Clause and just discussed an opinion regarding a ban on the importation into one state of live bait from any other state. The state convinced the Supreme Court that it posed a significant hazard to the ecosystem of the state and therefore the interest of the state outweighed the burden on interstate commerce. Justice Stephens, according to Professor ConLaw, dissented, saying, “There’s something fishy about this case.”

Har, har har. Those Supremes sure have a great sense of humor.

Monday, November 25, 2002


 1. Have you ever made a wish that came true? Lewis & Clark, Northwestern School of Law.

2. How about any wishes that you are happy never came true? Yep. You know who you are, psycho.

3. Do you like who you are? Are you the person you hoped you would become? Ehh...I'm still "becoming". I like myself mostly, I wish I could stop swearing so much, though. And I wish I had better fashion sense. But overall I'm pretty happy, or at least I feel like I'm headed in the right direction.

4. I recently found some job applications that I never turned in. Back in 1986 I intended to apply at "County Seat" and "Chess King" but got an offer from Penny's (where I worked all through college). It was a good thing, since only one of the three is still around. Have you ever applied for positions, or had any interviews, where you later are glad you never got the job? Not really. When I go get a job, I only apply to places I really want to work.

5. While on the topic of career opportunities, what was your very first "real" job? What job was the most embarrassing? My first "real" job was working at the Levi's outlet store at Lake of the Ozarks. As for embarassing, I don't think I've worked anywhere I'm ashamed of...hey, at least I've paid my way through life on my own.

6. Speaking of news, have you had your 15 minutes of fame yet? Such as being in the newspaper, on television, linked on a high-profile site or otherwise caught in the spotlight of the media? I hope not. I've been on t.v. and in the newspaper, but not as a representative of me, only for the fraternity.

7. In the USA, many of us will celebrate Thanksgiving this week. Do you celebrate Thanksgiving (or something like it)? Do you enjoy getting together will your extended family for these types of celebrations? I do indeed celebrate. I have always enjoyed getting together with my extended family, whenever I could. I'll miss them dreadfully this year.


I hate it that he's feeling down, but I really just don't have anything that constructive to say. What is there to say? "This too, shall pass"? or maybe "All things shall become clear to you in the fullness of time"? I doubt that second one, so I won't say it. I'm sick of being alone, too. I'm tired of never having to cuddle with on cold winter evenings, or who sends me nice things just because. I'm sick of not having someone just to be around who shares my tastes; someone who wants to go see the same movies I do, or eat the same restaurants. Someone just to get sloppy drunk with and make stupid confessions to. I'm sick of not getting laid, at least once in a while.

But I do know this, Jay, and you can put it in the bank: Bitches come and go but your friends are forever, and that's the truth. Not to be trite, but let's put things in perspective. As people in their lower 20s, we've really got nothing to complain about. You're still in college, and I'm still in school, and look at the girls on Sex in the City: they're fabulous gorgeous sophisticated career women in their 30s and still looking for the right someone. I know they're just on t.v. (no really, I understand that) but they are representative of a whole bunch of people IRL. So what if you're unattached? Enjoy it, pursue your educational and career goals, make yourself into the fabulous person you always knew you'd be. Build yourself a life. You'll keep meeting great people, trying things out and in the meantime, you've got your friends and family. Sure, they don't fulfill every need you have but neither would a boyfriend or a girlfriend. (And if you tried to make them do so, that's called "co-dependent".) Once you have a life, then you can find someone to share it with. Honestly, that one little component of life is not that big of a deal.

And I'll just keep telling myself that, over and over, until I believe it too.

Friday, November 22, 2002


 How do you make 500 already overwrought law students simultaneously jump right out of their skins? Why, you set off the fire alarm in the library, of course! I'm not kidding. One second it was peace and memo and Beethoven on the headphones, and the next second there's a fire alarm piercing our eardums with its terrible shrieks, complete with flashing strobe lights. Everyone jittered and jumped, looked up, looked around, and at the obvious lack of smoke or heat toyed with staying put. Those of us in the "not-completely-silent" part of the library looked at each other questioningly. Hilary shrugged, I shrugged and said, "This place is going to have to be burning down around me before I leave here without my memo being done." We nodded at each other in agreement, turned up our headphones, and went back to work.

The alarm went off for more than a few minutes; eventually the classes downstairs began filing out and then we in the library decided maybe there really was a danger, and began to unlock, unplug and disconnect our computers -- there's no way I'd leave my computer behind; it has all my notes for the whole semester, not to mention the last three hours' of work I've put in on the memo -- when the alarm turned off.

"False alarm," explained the librarians. Fucking thing; it totally threw off my memo-writing groove.

Well, back to it, then, seeing as how I'm not about to become Fire-Roasted 1L.