"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

 
Finding a Happy Place...

It's amazing when all the forces of the universe align for one spectacular moment. Like when you don't want to take any of the classes offered by your school, but you wake up at 7:00am to register anyway, at which time your computer decides that it doesn't want you to take any classes offered either and promptly stops working, so then you call the registrar to register over the phone, at which time you realize the school doesn't want you to take any of the classes offered because the entire registration system isn't working. So you've spent over an hour trying to register for classes you don't even like, and now it's too late to go for a run.

I understand that technical issues are impossible to completely control, but it would help if a law school that takes hundreds and hundreds of thousands of dollars from its students every year could have some accountable person ALIVE and AWAKE during the registration period to do a little bit of damage control. A lot of my friends are really pissed because they couldn't get into classes they wanted to take. I don't really have that problem because the "caring" switch in my brain has been flipped off for the duration of exam time, but I'm outraged on principle, because that's what I do.

Now I'm sitting in a coffeehouse trying to outline and watching a man bathe in front of me. (He disappeared into the bathroom for about 20 minutes, after which period he emerged holding reams of paper towels and sat down in front of me). He is now rubbing said paper towels all over his body. This process results in loud scratching and grunting sounds, but does not result in the cleansing of his person, largely because there is no soap or water involved in this process. Just a lot of grunting and staring at me.

I will miss this city.


posted by Bekah at 4:08 PM :: |