A Word on Studying In Public

You get to hear people say all sorts of profoundly stupid things. Here's a small sampling of what I've heard in the last four minutes:

"Are they dixie cups or pixie cups? I get those mixed up." (Note: there is NO SUCH THING as a "pixie cup")

"So, we don't actually have a water cooler at work, we have this room." (Note: it's called a lunch room. It's common to basically every office environment since ever. Water coolers are not really a "thing" anymore.)

"Can you have wine?" (Asked of a girl who is presumably gluten intolerant. Note: there's no form of wheat and therefore no gluten in wine)


HOW ARE THESE PEOPLE EMPLOYED?????????

Crunch Time

We've reached the point in time during finals week wherein my brain is half dead, I'm 98% sustained by various forms of caffeine, I haven't been home in almost 12 hours, and I'm bordering on counting down the minutes to the exam that I don't at all feel prepared for. On top of that there's this lovely phenomenon of writing papers for seminar classes. Which is EVEN better when you don't have explicit instructions for said papers. Seriously, none. I had a panic attack in the middle of writing my conclusion when I realized that my assumption that the paper should be 12 to 15 pages was potentially fallacious. I then contacted all of my classmates that I could reach and got back a tentative response that it wasn't a page count, but a word count. And the word count was way more than I had written. But I also had less than zero of an outline for my exam that is in a little over 18 hours. So, I'm damned if I do, damned if I don't. All of this is in spite of the fact that I actually started all of the things early this quarter. Tell me how that works?!? Seriously, inquiring minds want to know! I start early and am more behind than ever. I'm screwed. So, I'm at the bottom of the hole and I'm just going to keep on digging.

On the upside, I've made friends with my barista and waitress. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or if it says something questionable about the amount of time I spend sedentary in various establishments. Either way, I'm keeping the coffee industry, streaming music companies, and the maker of Post-Its and highlighters employed. Also, Word is the worst program for outlining, and if I had anything else I'd exchange it immediately.

And there ya go - this is what happens when you're sleep deprived, running on mostly caffeine, cramming for an exam and trying to finish two papers all at the same time. Tonight looks like no sleep for me! Sometimes law school makes me hate my life.

Second Thoughts

So that whole "all the caffeine" tactic....might not be the best....part of my brain actually feels like it's vibrating to the beats of the music (that isn't on very loud)....that can't be normal or good. Word to the wise - switch between tea and coffee so as to avoid overloading your system. I didn't follow this sage advice.

Also, dog and/or cat cafes should exist in every city everywhere. Why are they only in Asia?!? Asia has the need for furry companionship on lock. Fix it, America. Fix it.

The Descent

Either into madness, manic-ness, or general hermit-dom. Also known as compressed quarter finals period. It seems oh so far away until suddenly it occurs to you that you have 24 hours until your first exam begins and about 64 hours until your first paper is due. Enter freak-out zone. Sleep becomes a suggestion, caffeine a necessity.  Every muscle from the middle of your spine to the top of your head is tied in innumerable knots, a perpetual headache from staring at a computer screen as you put together outlines and paper, transitioning somewhat haphazardly between them. An alternating soundtrack of your own panic, classical music, John Williams symphonies, Daft Punk and all kinds of lame pop music scores this descent into the bowels of hell that are more affectionately known as law school finals.

Somewhere along the way you begin deeply and profoundly resenting every person that takes up more than half a table (even though you're doing precisely that) and doesn't, for all you know, have a pressing exam that could determine their ability to do their summer job or graduate on time. You then slowly begin rethinking your life choices, craving a small, furry animal to cuddle with, and waxing nostalgic for the first year of law school (no joke, that part is a horrifying realization).

My solution to all of this (insomuch as there is any solution whatsoever) is to drink all the caffeine (but match it with equal amounts of water), suddenly become religious about taking all of the vitamins and dietary supplements, suddenly start more or less living in various coffee shops, stress clean, and (for no apparent reason whatsoever) stop eating meat. This basically means that I live on probably unhealthy amounts of caffeine, a lot of grilled veggie related things, in work out clothes, and with an ever present bottle of advil. I'm not sure if any of this can be qualified as "winning", but it's keeping me from totally losing it, and will hopefully ensure effective condensing and cramming of material into my brain. However, I'm starting to feel like I might go crosseyed from looking at screens and might start floating away based on the sheer volume of liquid I've been consuming. It's truly disconcerting.

That's all I've got for now - my goal is to have more than a page of outline for every hour I've been working on this stupid class. And then I get to work on two papers, and then another outline that I haven't touched yet. Condensed quarter = dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb.

Stupid Traitorous Body

This week marks the last "week" (read: four days) of classes. We then essentially have three days until finals begin. Gross.

To make matters worse, the weather is mirroring my mood, which then wreaks havoc with my stupid overly sensitive sinuses. So, I've had a rocking headache for two days straight. You'd think it'd get better with advil and whatever...it doesn't really. Screw you, weather. And screw you, condensed quarter.

I'm gonna continue running (read: not actually running) around like a chicken with my head cut off. Also, as much as I adore procrastibaking, I'm now unfortunately sick of cooking for people, mostly as a result of needing to then clean up after baking and cooking. UGH.

On Popsicles

Real talk, people, don't fudgesicles look like poops on a stick? They do, right? So, why do they taste SO GOOD??!?! As we enter the season of sunshine and popsicles, these will become ever more present, mostly for chocoholics. I propose a new era! Oreo cookies and cream sicles!!! More appetizing to look at, and just as tasty. Try it instead. Ban poosicles from your field of vision!

Being Sick is The Worst.

So, after my weekend battle with mild food poisoning, I managed to somehow get sick on Monday night. I'm talking the works - fever, chills, aches, complete and utter nausea. No idea what was wrong with me. It took until Tuesday night until the fever to break. I keep forcing myself to eat, despite the fact that it makes me completely nauseated for hours. Which, frankly, is terrible, because all I want is some truffle garlic fries, a really good cheeseburger, and some carrot cake. Honestly, one of the world's most perfect meals. Except the thought of it, at the moment, makes me feel like I'm going to throw up. That could also be the fact that I'm currently eating. My body is not ok with any of this. Fml.

In law school, particularly when the pressure is on, particularly during a compressed quarter, you push yourself to keep going. Unfortunately, the human body doesn't seem to quite understand the push to stay absolutely healthy, not sleep a lot, and get very little exercise for a solid 2.5 months straight. And mine chose now to give up. A mere two weeks from the end of class/start of finals. DUMB. As is always the case, our bodies fail us when it is MOST inconvenient. Not when we have time to laze around and get well, but when we have a ton of things to do and no time to sleep 14 hours a day.

On a separate note: thank god for the advent of delivery food and netflix. I watched a bunch of trashy tv, from the comfort of my bed, and got soup and sprite delivered to me. That part was glorious, until the nausea set in again.

LET THERE BE SLOTHS

I saw a video a little over a week ago that was one of the most terrifying/precious things I've ever seen. It's basically a six minute long video of a sloth hugging a housecat. During the first part, it almost looks like the sloth is near-strangling the cat, and then it gets cute and weird all in one. The sloth starts scratching the cat's head - much to the cat's delight - and then licks its ear. You heard me. The sloth licks the cat's ear. Creepy. But kind of cute. I'll include it below for your enjoyment.

Anyway, that incredibly long lead up is for my friend's birthday! Which shall be celebrated with the unveiling of a BABY SLOTH BEAR! So much winning!

UPDATE: I got potential food poisoning on Thursday night, it continued through all of Friday, spent Saturday recovering rather than seeing the baby sloth bear. It was sad. Upside? I got to eat tons of crawfish on Sunday, and then have a few margaritas with friends to celebrate Cinco de Mayo.

Law Prom!

Every year, literally hundreds of law schools around the country partake in an event known colloquially as "law prom." In reality it is the annual law school gala; an excuse for law students to get dressed up, cut loose and take ridiculous pictures.

Now to fully paint the picture (albeit way way later than I planned on writing this, due to a series of things), you have to understand that it is an absolute headache to find a place that our law school is even allowed to hold events anymore. We got kicked out of the venue an hour and a half early last year and the years prior, going back god knows how long. The reason? Someone got sloppy and literally punched a bartender. Dumb. So dumb. Supposedly we're adults and should be able to handle ourselves with only TWO drink tickets, right? Apparently not. To the relief of everyone involved, that did not happen this year. Was it because it was held several hours earlier and ended at 10 PM? Was it because the venue was upscale? Was it because stairs were involved? Who knows. It may have been the promise of an afterparty, along with the three drink tickets. Again, who knows. There was food, there were drinks (mine were all champagne). The food being quite good helped as well, I'm sure. The venue was actually really cool. Apparently it's a venue where they train and offer job placement to homeless and at-risk men, women, and youths. So, really, not only was it awesome, but they also do awesome social work, completely in keeping with our school's purported mission.

Unfortunately, the venue for the afterparty screwed up big time. Through no fault of the wonderful lady that organized everything, the venue not only decided to cut our reservation by 290 people (yeah, you read that right) without consulting anyone, but also proceeded to allow other people into the reserved section (as in quadruple booked the tables), and to try to turn away the members of our group at the door. It was re.dic.u.lous. The only way I could properly convey all of our frustration was to split up the word that way. 99.99% of us left almost immediately after getting in (FINALLY...it took an hour, if you were near the front of the line). Those that stayed for more than 10 minutes in that god-awfully run place were severely disillusioned by the experience. We all moved on to other places eventually, and were much happier for it.

My friends and I cabbed home (my home), and two of them crashed on my couch (don't worry, one couch pulls out into a comfy twin-sized bed). When we finally roused ourselves the following morning, I only got up to lock the door behind my pals, and then crashed again for like three hours.

My day of only excellent life choices following this late, exhausting, but lovely evening only continued after sleeping in rather late. I got up, drove to get Hawaiian food and a smoothie, and then proceeded to watch a bunch of Doctor Who. All excellent life choices.

Eeep!

I've been a bad blogger. Apparently took a mental vacation, while subjecting my actual person and mental capacities to the ravages of a compressed quarter (which, for the record, is hands down the absolute worst idea anyone in the history of ever has had). I'll attempt to catch you up on things as best I'm able, but don't hate me if I really can't remember all the things - I'm still trying to cram all of Federal Indian Law into my brain, it is the equivalent of taking Fed Courts, but worse. Believe you me, rather than just asking the questions about is it criminal or civil, state or federal, you also have to add in the maze of criminal jurisdiction relating to tribes, and whether or not they're tribes covered by PL 280. For those of you who don't know what all that means, just be grateful.

Anyway, the highlights: law prom, law prom afterparty, my friend taking on immigration court like a BOSS, the glorious return of sunshine, and summer wine on the roof.

Law prom and the afterparty shall be covered in a separate entry (that I swear I started last week, but just never finished because I was trying to be a good student).

The glorious return of sunshine, and the breaking of Spring. Sunshine during this hellish two months is the most distracting thing I've ever encountered. Even worse when it's combined with relatively balmy temperatures that allow for the wearing of dresses and skirts. It's something akin to waving one of those sparkly feathery doodads in front of a kitten, and then expecting them to just sit there silently and learn how to shake paws. That bad. It's been (mostly) glorious outside, and even (dare I say it?) warm at times. Therefore, being stuck indoors (where the internets are) to work on god knows what (because there are literally an innumerable amount of things that I can/should be doing) is something akin to the kind of torture where they leave the lights on so that you can't sleep for days. I don't know what that's called, but that. Oh, which reminds me, the downside to being in the upper latitudes when we edge toward the summer solstice is that the freaking sun shines through the windows by 5:45 AM. Upside, I'm WIDE AWAKE at about 6:45. Downside, I don't always need to be awake that early, and can often use more sleep. It also doesn't get dark outside until almost 8 PM. So, color my circadian rhythms bass-ackwards. (As if they weren't already.) All of this on top of a compressed quarter is that ALL the learning and writing and whatever else is crammed into 8 weeks. EIGHT. That's it. From beginning to end. Terrifying, no? All I have to say is - here goes nothing.

This has lead to, however, a gratuitous use of my building's rooftop deck, limited as it may be. Which is lovely after a LONG day trapped within this cemetery of dreams. What makes it even lovelier is that I get to pass the time amongst company comprised of comrades (see what I did there with that alliteration?). And that my friend introduced me to a glorious Spanish creation whose name (which I'm not even going to try to spell because I'd massacre it) translates loosely to summer wine. The recipe is at the end of this post. Bubbly, light, and refreshing. NOT sangria. (Because the two could conceivably be confused) The hilarious and brilliant woman who brings you this drink (note: NOT ME) is also doing a pretty bad ass interview today and managed to get ICE to stipulate to dismissing her clinic client's case without uttering a single word. Because she's just. that. good. Go ahead and try to tell me you're not impressed. You can't. You just can't. So, fingers crossed for this force to be reckoned with, because if anyone is going to take the law by the horns and wrestle injustices to the ground, it'll be her.

I've also determined that taking an all hippie quarter was both the best and worst idea I've ever had. Despite the fact that I only have one final and that I now know I will have enough credits to graduate early. To which my lovely mother's response was, "Does that mean you'll have time to just travel anywhere in the world for like two weeks?" The answer to that question is always yes, for the record. If you say no to that question you're either (a) a cyborg, (b) have no soul (could go hand in hand with a), or (c) an agoraphobe.

In other semi-relevant news, I'm likely to soon be a member of the Student Bar Association. And I'm in another clinic for next year. Yay? There goes any notion that I was going to see free time again. Womp Womp.