"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

 
Not a Basketball Player

I went to the gym yesterday and ended up walking in behind three women's basketball players. They were about 17 feet tall, wearing warmups and holding a bunch of basketballs, water bottles, and other equipment. The guy behind the counter swiping cards looked at them and said, "I guess you girls are on your way to the courts. Go on in." They didn't have to show ID. So as they walked through the turnstile, I strained on tiptoe to hand my ID over the countertop, cracked a smile and said, "Yeah, I'm not with them." The guy looked at me for a second, handed my ID back to me, and said, "No...heh heh." He was still laughing to himself when I walked away. And I was happy that my deficient stature could bring someone joy.

Worlds Collide

Both of my parents are professors, so I have a little bit of perspective on the breed. While it's sometimes hard for my friends to imagine that our professors have families and lives and interests beyond their job, I know from experience that they are actual people with actual human flaws. They are not one-dimensional figures who appear for an hour and fifteen minutes twice a week for the express purpose of driving fear into the hearts of law students. Professors also take their five year old daughter to My Little Pony movies and win gardening awards and listen to punk rock. So when a professor starts to intimidate me in class, I just think of his twelve year old daughter making fun of his pants. Who's so tough now, scary professor man? Bring it!

Sadly, even my superior knowledge of the inner-workings of academia wasn't enough to prepare me for the encounter I had at the gym a few weeks ago. There I was, minding my own business in Spinning class--the one time of day when I can actually get away with not thinking about law school--and who should walk in wearing biking shorts and a tanktop but one of my professors! Not a young female professor. Not a young male professor. But an older male professor in his late 60's who looks a little bit like Santa! I am ashamed to say I averted my eyes. Now, I know my parents go to the gym, and I think that's great. But my parents are not my professors. This was like my professor reading my mail or asking me if I'm seeing anyone at the moment. It was just too personal. Needless to say, I don't go to that Spinning time-slot anymore. I feel far too violated.

Flailing Around

Speaking of professors, my Con Law professor is wonderful and brilliant and I adore him. I would even adore him if he didn't bear such a strong resemblance to Mo Rocca from The Daily Show. A few days ago we were discussing what judges do when there isn't any text in the Constitution that backs up their arguments. My professor explained that the judges have to "flail around" for arguments in that situation, basing them on structure, history, etc. Anyway, the point is that he put his arms out to the sides and said, totally deadpan, "I'm flailing. This is flailing. Look at me flailing." It was priceless. Nothing quite like a law professor doing physical demonstrations. It would have been even better if he'd gotten the whole class to stand up and flail in unison. That would have been magical. Like that scene in Angels in the Outfield.

posted by Bekah at 12:22 AM :: |