"In vacant or in pensive mood..." I am: Bekah; 24; Law Student / Favorite Things: Carbs (so there!), Johnny Damon, Smiling at babies, Grilled cheese, Comfortable silence / Favorite Supreme Court Justice: Brennan / Favorite Wilson: Owen by an inch / Today's Special: Song: Elliott Smith, "Bled White"; Quote: "You know, there's like a butt-load of gangs at this school. This one gang kept wanting me to join because I'm pretty good with a bowstaff." Please love me: mmbekah@yahoo.com


February 2003 March 2003 April 2003 May 2003 June 2003 July 2003 August 2003 September 2003 October 2003 November 2003 December 2003 January 2004 February 2004 March 2004 April 2004 May 2004 June 2004 July 2004 August 2004 September 2004 October 2004 November 2004 December 2004 January 2005 September 2005

 
Back to Square One

Yesterday in Property my worst suspicions were confirmed: I have reverted to infancy. Yes, that's right. In my 23 years of existence, I have already come full circle.

Last year, as a senior in college, I felt like I knew some things. I wrote a thesis, participated in some organizations, and took great classes. I felt like a moderately intelligent or at least educated person. Law school has taken this simple assumption, ripped it to shreds, pooped on it, put it in a blender, and thrown the foul remains into the pit of despair. I've been generally lost and confused all year, so before Property yesterday I had already pretty much accepted the fact that I knew nothing. But I always thought that this placed me on at least an 8-9 year old intellectual level. This was far too generous an extimation. I'm now fairly certain that I'm operating with the mental capacity of an eighteen-month-old infant.

I was sitting next to my friend LaCosta. As the murmurings of the professor began to grow ever more distant, my attention turned to the brightly-colored drawstrings of my red hoodie. I looked at them with fascination, as if seeing them for the first time. I put one in my mouth. I touched the plastic coated ends and used my associative powers to make an incredible connection.

"LaCosta!" I said, eyes wide, "They're just like shoelaces!"

"Yes sweetie, they are. That's very good," she answered, patting me encouragingly on the back. She refrained from offering me some mushed carrots or wiping the drool from the side of my mouth. Later in the class, I began to get irritable. I felt a range of emotions, but the only ones I could identify were "tired," "hungry," and "go potty." I contemplated crying to express all three.
posted by Bekah at 8:15 AM :: |