"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

 
Bracket Breakdown

J has promised to be very helpful and supportive throughout the course of this Sub & Cite, and I know he will. That's because he has time to be helpful and supportive. He has made it very clear that his three priorities in life right now (other than being helpful and supportive to me) are basketball, basketball, and--most importantly--basketball.

You see, J, like many basketball fans, has constructed something known as a "bracket" for the NCAA tournament. Actually, he's constructed three brackets. Brackets are a fun way for basketball fans to test their ability to predict winners; plus, they provide a little bit of personal incentive that makes the tournament more exciting. But as I understand it, what these "brackets" really do is create a ridiculous amount of stress in the lives of people who have no reason to care about the teams in the tournament. Suddenly J's happiness rides on the fates of east-ass teams like "Pacific" and "Monmouth"? How is that fun? I don't even know what the hell these schools are! I've been told that if I made my own bracket I would feel differently, and I know that's true. If I had a bracket, I would live and die by Western North Dakota Community College at Miami, Boulder too. But it just seems a little bit arbitrary and self-destructive for people to put themselves through an emotional rollercoaster just because they happen to have Providence going deep.

Side note: I watched a little basketball yesterday, and noticed something disturbing. Most team mascots are plural, so that a single player can be described as the singular version of that mascot. Examples include: Wolverines (Wolverine), Bulldogs (Bulldog), Commodores (Commodore). So you can say, so and so player is "a Wolverine." But NC State is "The Wolfpack" Um, what do you call one NC State player? Look at that member of the Wolfpack? Wolf? Wolf-packer? It just doesn't seem right. Alabama's Crimson Tide and other wave-oriented mascots don't work either. I think it's a huge problem, and something should be done.

posted by Bekah at 9:04 AM :: |

 
The Valley of the Shadow of Death (Also Known as the Library)

I walked into work yesterday and my boss said, "What are you doing here? Do you see how nice it is outside? You're only young once--go outside and play." As it turns out, I'm very good at taking orders from superiors.

Unfortunately, playing outside must now defer to Sub & Cite hell (which explains why I am 1) awake, and 2) at school this early on a Saturday). My partner and I are working today until we get through at least 100 footnotes (of the 250 in the article). To give you an idea of how long that might take, we worked for 7 hours on Thursday and got through 28. Let's hope things pick up a little.

For some more insight into what exactly a Sub & Cite entails (dear God, why?), please see the following diatribes about my experience last semester:

Psychological Study: The Effects of a Sub & Cite on a Previously Normal Girl
Library Angst
Library Angst Part II

I was a little angry then. I've since been beaten into submission.

posted by Bekah at 8:29 AM :: |

 
Unintentional Anonymity

Email from Dad:

I went to Wilbert's this morning, and Steve, the proprietor, told me a depressing story. A student had come in earlier looking for study aids for antitrust. Steve asked him who his professor was. The student squinted, and said "he's tall, wears glasses, and always dresses real nice."

Poor Dad. Poor, underappreciated law profs. I may sometimes momentarily forget what classes I’m taking, or walk into the wrong room in the morning, but I would never forget my professors’ names! Really not cool.

posted by Bekah at 8:55 AM :: |

 
Did I Mention that I Love My Job?

Wednesday night, I went out for St. Patrick's Day. I intended to make an appearance (so people would see that I was putting forth the requisite festive effort), have a green beer, and call it a night. But when I walked into the bar, the first people I saw were two of the associates from my firm. Associate A immediately said, "Oh damn, now we can't drink!" And I quickly retorted, "Please. Surely you jest." I chatted a little longer, told them to have a good time, and went to sit with my friends. About 10 minutes later, Associate B came over to my table with a shot of whiskey "from Associate A and me." I don't want to say that she forced me to do anything, but she is a lawyer, and she was very persuasive. And I didn't want to look like a wimp in front of my superiors. I downed it. Associate B walked off, and I continued chatting with my friends. But I saw the associates again a little later. Associate B looked at her watch and said, "Oops, it's been half an hour. My turn to buy!" She disappeared, and returned with vodka. After the vodka came the SoCo. It was nothing less than hazing, and I definitely held my own. The cliche is kind of fun: work hard, play hard. I could get used to this.

posted by Bekah at 8:54 AM :: |

 
This is a Test

OK. I am going to perform an experiment today. I am going to add a comment function to my blog. Lots of people have been telling me to do this for a while. Other people have warned me against it. After some deliberation, I've decided to try it out. As J says, I've succumbed to "blog pressure." But I'm pretty conflicted about it for several reasons:

1. My blog is supposed to be a way for me to write. I don't want it to get too "internetty" or too much like a conversation. I want this site to be by me, and I want to have complete control over it. CONTROL, OK! THAT'S WHAT I WANT! That's a problem.

2. At the same time, I want people to feel like they can respond to what I say. Writers should always be receptive to feedback. And nice feedback would make me very happy. People who have written me emails before have made me very happy, and maybe that happiness will happen more often if I have comments. Mmm...nice people.

3. My blog isn't usually particularly academic or political, so commenting isn't likely to turn into a huge discussion or debate, which is good I think. But then again, I'm not sure if my posts really lend themselves to comments very well. I don't want to write a post about how much I love flip-flops and have 15 mean people tell me it was stupid. [Side note about that: am I a red-headed stepchild when it comes to law blogs? I'm sorry if I don't always write about the election or the latest Supreme Court case. It doesn't make me any less of a law student! And besides, the fact that I'm a law student doesn't mean I only care about legal stuff. In fact, that's probably what I want to write about least of all! I am a law student, and I have a blog, but "law student" isn't all I am! Can't you people see that? Isn't that good enough for you??]

4. I'm scared of mean people.

Despite all of these things, I'm giving it a shot. My dear blog-friend AI is setting them up for me some time in the near future. He is very good to me, and has helped me in the past with my internet ineptitude. So look for comments soon. And be nice.

posted by Bekah at 2:16 PM :: |

 
Does Not Compute

This morning, my computer had a nervous breakdown. They keyboard simply stopped working. As an illustration, please observe my notes from First Amendment:

hn itll my cmutr tart t rk
my cmutr is scrd
I hat my cmutr

Translation:

When will my computer start to work?
My computer is screwed
I hate my computer

So, after overreacting in my usual style, choking back irrational tears and anticipating the loss of all of my notes, I drove out to the Gateway store. The guy at the Gateway store hates his life. He hates everything about his dreary, complaint-ridden existence. But he was still pretty cool to me. My computer wasn't under warranty, so I had two options. I could send it in for the "fixed rate" of $299 plus tax, plus $59 for a box to ship it in, and get it back in 10 days. Or I could go to Target and get a can of $6 compressed air to see if "blowing it out" would fix the problem.

In the parking lot of Target, I removed one of the keys from my keyboard and prepared to blow out the few small dust particles that might be lurking there. But when I looked down, I did not see dust particles. I saw hair. Eyelashes, yes. But also long brown hairs, from my head. My keyboard chamber is apparently where my hair goes to die. Well, hair is already dead, so it's apparently where it goes to die again. Hairs were curled around all of the keys, completely debilitating them. But I came to the rescue. I sprayed that shit so hard that the can almost froze off my hand, but when I turned the computer back on, all was well again.

And the good news is, I can continue to work on my Comment! Talk about silver lining!

posted by Bekah at 1:49 PM :: |

 
Good Stuff

1. 64 pages of Comment DONE. Maybe 10-15 more to go.
2. After good dinner with J's parents, invited to lunch on Sunday which was also good. No mention of Vietnam; stuck to easy task of embarrassing J in front of his parents.
3. Cleaned entire apartment, including sink, toilet bowl, and floor; removed disgusting dead cockroach from under bed.
4. Got new shampoo.
5. Saves the Day tonight. Met J at Saves the Day concert last year; cute anniversary-type thing; not at all vomit-inducing for others, I hope.

Impending and/or Current Doom

1. 10-15 pages of Comment to write + Bluebook hell + revisions + meeting with advisor.
2. Sub & Cite has been resurrected.
3. Humidity outside makes walking = swimming in hot, stagnant marshland.
4. J's excitement about "Two words: TOURNAMENT BRACKET." For the love of God.
5. The harsh reality evidenced by this conversation:
Dad: So, with all this writing, have you been keeping up with your coursework?
Me: (long silence, sporting an expression not seen on my face since I was a surly 13-year-old) What do you think?

posted by Bekah at 11:03 AM :: |