10.30.2005

spooky goodtimes

Ms. Sarah Iler woke me up at 6 am Saturday morning because a baby mouse got stuck on one of the sticky traps. ( we have mice. we also have a MOUSE TRAP variety that includes conventional break your head traps, sticky traps and bags of delicious poison. we also have sarah who is TERRIFIED OF RODENTS and jenn who IS TERRIFIED of DEAD ANIMALS (unless they’ve been cutely retooled into something fashionable). what this means is, I, by default, am MISTRESS OF THE MICE.

Anyway, Sarah apparently belongs in the mid 90s movie the GOOD SON because she wanted me to mix mouse poison with peanut butter and force-feed the baby mouse. (can you even imagine?) (Letting him off the sticky trap wasn’t an option because, clearly he would just sneak back inside and continue his diabolical plot to eat all of the goldfish snack crackers and destroy our lives.) So I had to drown him. in a coffee can.

And that, friends, was my first foray into murder. (unlike some of my friends, I never burned a shed full of puppies alive) I haven’t even killed a bug in years. (it’s part of my whole zen existence.) and baby mouse is certainly BY FAR the largest thing I’ve ever killed and I cried the whole time. But I’m sure I’m about 28 minutes away from joining a death metal band killing my friends and cooking and consuming their flesh. Hello serial murder, here I come.

the weekend is almost over. and even though fabulous daylight savings tacked a whole extra hour into it, I’m still not ready to go back to work. I love that I am PAYING $150,000 to learn how to do something that I DON’T EVEN LIKE.

10.19.2005

Yes, Virginia: if you sacrifice your personal life and devote yourself single-mindedly to a career of whispering in the ears of the powerful, you, too

So CLASSES are picked, real quick, I am registered for:

Seminar: The Legal Imagination
Seminar: Sexuality Gender and the Law
Seminar: Balancing Security and Liberty
Problems in Public Health Law
Immigration Law
Seminar: Professional Responsibility



I’m going to drop two. Which two remains to be seen. Hopefully sexuality and then either public health OR immigration. Do you like how it’s all seminars and no substance? Yeah. Me too. Fuck the bar. I takes what I likes. And I likes pirates. (Admiralty and maritime claims isn’t offered this quarter.)

I cut my hair today and I have BEAUTY QUEEN BANGS. Pretty awesome. That’s it. I went on about nothing last night, and registering was my big accomplishment. That and reading a Pennsylvania superior court case called “Northeastern Beaver.” not a lot going on. oxoxox

10.18.2005

i expect a brace of bluebirds and singing dwarves at any moment ...

Sarah took me to an itty bitty farmer’s market that was all organic and semi-Amish when she picked me up from ye ol’ court house of doom. we went late fall vegetable crazy, and stocked up, on yumminess and then made dinner. And except for a little kitchen fire caused by general unfamiliarity with this particular oven, we did really really well. Further, we resisted the temptation to buy expensive organic pumpkins, for carving purposes.

I’ve been thinking a lot about Christmas. For no reason. Except general tree and twinkling light fever. I think 251 pearl is going to have a tree this year. A grand tree, with pine-y goodness. And then we’re going to have a Christmas party to rival the great all night catastrophe I threw for amanda’s birthday. And hopefully someone will throw the Christmas tree off the back porch and we’ll be evicted, but we’ll be evicted memorably.

Work is going well. But then not so much. Yesterday one of the clerks gave me a patent claim to wade through. We’re only at the evidentiary stage, but with no IP training and ABSOLUTELY no technical background I’m drowning. Trying to sort through standards of review and all this Markman shit is driving me crazy. And I’m just so bored bored bored with it. But it’s important to learn new things. And the clerk who assigned it to me admitted that he has no IP background either. So he’s lost on the logistics right now too.

Meliora is this weekend. And I’m mixed on going. Rochester has lost a lot of its magical pull. And in a lot of ways it’s haunted. (Without clara can it really ever be the same?) I say I’m mixed, but I’m firm on going. And excited, for something familiar.


Last October, though, it was different, Rochester was home, and boston was a nightmare with law school and unfamiliarity. And now I’m smitten with Philadelphia, homesick for Boston and starting to regard Rochester like a jilted lover: it’s tense, but there are good memories. and it isn't as if other jenni (kirschykins) isn't going.

I keep saying that there is NO WAY they’ll confirm harriet miers next month. But I should be clear. There is no way I would confirm her. God knows what the powers that be will really do. They certainly don’t take their cues from me.

And then finally the knee thing. While we had a really good Monday, the knee, as it is a completely separate and alien thing these days, had a really bad day today with swelling and limping and the like. A real shame because today was our solitary weekday without physical therapy. and that's it. i'm writing while bath fresh, and i have to stretch out aforementioned knee and then miss iler and i have a tv date with some tea and pumpkin pie.

10.06.2005

teetoller

I’ve been thinking about my theory about how drinking is a waste of time. Every time I have an alcoholic beverage I get hung up on the fact that the reason it is fun is largely a result NOT of the company with which I acquire said beverage, but instead, because alcohol keeps my brain from receiving enough oxygen. And that makes it less fun. (I know it seems unbelievable, especially if I’ve ever thrown up on you, but I’m obsessed with the idea that drinking is dumb). So drinking might not be permanently detrimental, but it seems kind of blatantly pointless, except that it’s pleasurable. Am I right?

The problem with my teetolling theory is that i recently challenged myself (intellectually!! Not in practice!!) to extend it’s logic across the board. And do you know what the first stupid-pointless-outside-of-sheer-pleasure activity that sprung to mind was? SEX. (Not baby making sex. Babymakingsex is clearly goal orientated.) But regular young adult sex, with birthcontrol, is literally just the frantic, pointless humping of a literal glory hole.

but it feels so good. doesn't it?

So in conclusion: pleasure for pleasure’s sake is okay, even if it requires 6 beers, or tying a plastic bag over your head while you rub one out.


Uno!!

Last night kc emailed me at the comcast account that I never use, but she told me about the email, and as a result, I checked my Comcast email. And you know what? Sometimes people email me there, and that’s pretty fucking AWESOME.

I am really really really very dehydrated and would like some water. i know, the easy answer would be to go get some, but I’m upstairs in Kirsch’s room and I am moderately crippled, so go screw. PS, I can do stairs without crutches. Beat that asstard. Beat it. I went to pt this morning, and my pt lady who sometimes treats me like she wants to make out and sometimes treats me like I’m her very stupid very slow at improving daughter said my knee looked very very impressive for where she thought I would be. (the way she treats me is linked suspiciously to what I’m wearing. Sweatpantaloons = indifferent patronizing, trashy Hawaii booty shorts (of course I wear them in public, and I wear them with pride) = objectified.

Of course I’m imagining her advances, all the bending and rubbing is clearly therapeutic.

Enough about my decrippleification.

I just went and fixed the hydration problem, but I wish while I was down there I had thought to bring a cd up here. Like I said, I’m hiding out in Jennifer M. Kirsch’s room and I’m searching through her computer for something to listen to and my choices are slipknot or tori. Neither appeals. j.kirsch is the world’s most amazing person, but I will not hesitate to fault her musical taste, she has none. She unfortunately reads this. don’t be angry baby, I still love you the most.

Kc mentioned in her email that my blog is shockingly a-political. And that’s true. But what’s super odd about that isn’t that I’ve forgotten to be obsessive and hungry for world news, on the contrary, I’m currently reading, newspapers at least, more than ever as I diligently avoid actually working while at internship. (I know enough about H. Meirs to make you cry tears of blood.) what’s truly odd is, I’m not interested in telling you about it.

Sidebar: I do support term limits for supreme court justices. (18 years sounds good, the founding father’s did not anticipate our barely breathing court: in 1777 old was 46. dead was 60.) And it isn’t just because little baby JG Roberts is going to rot on the highest bench for 45 years, it’s because look at these fuckers, they look like shit. And they should be convalescing and not nauseating hot shot litigators with their old & decrepitness.

Finally, in court today I watched plaintiff’s counsel struggle to come up with a reason to exclude a huge pile of largely irrelevant evidence. And all I wanted to do was whisper "403(b)!!" (confusing, prejudical, waste of time). His poor client is paying him and he’s going to loose. And it breaks my heart. I’m not saying I could have litigated this claim successfully (constitutional torts, tricky tricky). But this man passed the bar, or so he claims, but he appears to have no actual legal experience. I keep hoping that he’s actually the archetypical bumbling lawyer, and he’s not actually incompetent, he’s just duping me (and the jury) and any minute now he’ll jump on it and impress me with naïve brilliance. I doubt it.

10.05.2005

THIS IS AWESOME, and we must give credit to anna T, newyork's brightest lawschoolstar for calling my attention to it. (note: smasters is Massachusetts's brightest LAWSTAR).

What’s up douchebag redsox? Stop being losers. Thanks. It’s so funny, when I live in Massachusetts I HATE the redsox. But when I’m out of town, I like to cheer them on. Like when I lived in the ROC senior year I loved the baseball playoffs (because watching baseball meant not studying for the LSAT). remember when don zimmer got clotheslined? That was beautiful. But then i actually lived in boston (red sox nation? don't you mean red sox regional love? why do you get to be a nation? WHY?) I wanted to kill all sox fans everywhere. they ruined it for me. And now here we are in Philadelphia, and I’m back on board. Too bad no cubs. I could cheer for cubs.

This is a column from the 2001 Yale Daily that covers blow job etiquette. Now when I heard blow job etiquette I thought FOR SURE we were going to be talking about the "pre ejaculatory heads up," but no, friend. Apparently the only issue in blowing "dos" and "don’ts" is SPIT or SWALLOW. Which just proves that undergraduate girls don’t know shit. Now girls in law school, they know blow jobs . . . **oh, and if you read the whole thing you’ll see that apparently SOMEONE had cum come out their nose when they swallowed, and i know someone who that happened to, poor dear. And baby, you’re not alone.**

Because it’s October, things are heating up in the court where I work. (summer is finally over?) I’m super tempted to go at length about the cool things I see in court, (translators who are so old they can’t hear, lawyers who blow cases on opening argument) but I feel like they were serious about things being confidential. One thing is for sure: I don’t want to be a real lawyer. This is better than school, and law clerk is a low stress high prestige course of action, but Jesus, Boring. Boring boring. Or maybe I just suffer from crippling attention deficit disorder.

Today I bought myself a subscription to Atlantic Monthly because in PT the lady said my knee looked BETTER than she’s EVER seen it. (She also said she was going to break a bottle of champagne over my ass when I could touch my heel to my butt. (yes she is a lesbian. yes she thinks i'm gay too.)) if I continue working hard and moving forward, for the rest of the week I am going to buy myself a new haircut, and a trip to brazil next week (even though the wax lady is in boston, and I will have to have a new stranger go-to-town on my crotch). I know all this seems ridiculous, but fuck you. You likely have no idea. I’m trying really hard. And I deserve tangible rewards. Sometimes walking without lurching just isn’t enough.

10.03.2005

I just made a picture of the new supreme court my desktop. Why? Because I am AWESOME. And your desk top is lame. And I had to change the picture of kirstie alley that chuck but up as a joke weeks a go.

So. Long time no talk bloggityblogblog. I want to tell you that nothings been doing and nothing was missed. But that would be deceitful. I moved to Philadelphia, and my problems and woes did not magically dissolve once I reached a different little old city. In fact they might have multiplied.

Work is fine, the people in my office are nice, the things I do are interesting. I enjoy not being in school. Sometimes I think about school fondly. I’m sure some evaluations mailed to my house will ruin school nostalgia.

Chuck came down from san diego to Philadelphia and that was wonderful because he is generally amazing.

However, the knee I went to considerable length to have FIXED is shot to shit. I missed a week of work last week to go up to Boston to have more knee surgery and patch up the blood related complications I’ve been having. Everything hurts and I’m having trouble walking. I ruined chuck’s trip to the east coast by crying. I am lucky to have him, (and sarah and jenn).

I’m frustrated, that nothing, even things that we anticipate will be difficult is ever as easy as we hope. I’m even more frustrated that there is a long and difficult road between me and walking and bending at 100%. Or 120 degrees.

For the most part though, everyone has been wonderful. And I’ back in Philadelphia as of today to start back at work tomorrow. And 80% of this is just believing that everything will be alright, and pushing forward. Because no matter how things turn out, you don’t know the alternatives. You’re stuck with where you are, alright turns into the only thing you know. No matter what it is.

Powered for Blogger by Blogger Templates