"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

 
Your Aura is Purple

There are moments in my life when I truly think I'm on Candid Camera. Tonight J and I went to dinner, and the waiter was stalking us. Although he did refrain from using binoculars or making notes in a composition book, he definitely took "attentiveness" to a whole new level. The really weird thing about it was that he looked like such a stoner, we initially thought that we'd never see him again. He has one of those faces that is only capable of one expression. But he turned out to be quite overzealous as waiters go. After he asked how everything was going for the fifth time, I turned to J and said, "It's like he's eating dinner with us. Should we pull up a chair?"

We returned to the coffeehouse after dinner for a few more hours of Saturday night studying (par-tay!) and, to my chagrin, those candid cameras weren't far behind. We sat down next to two men, one of whom was dressed in elaborate robes. They were speaking about auras and spatial awareness in low, measured tones and making flailing, grand gestures. They were being completely serious.

At this point, because we are 5 years old, J and I proceeded to IM each other from across the table.

J: Nice robe.
J: ASS.
Me: "consciously focus your eyes on the space around things"
Me: I wonder if they know how much they suck
Me: Are they focusing on that?
J: I think so
J: I just farted. Let's see them focus on that.
J: It smells.
J: Bad.

And then, ridiculous, sleep-deprived laughter ensued for a good 10 minutes until J said, "You know you're going to have to--"

"I'm already writing about it."

The robe guy and his freaky-ass protege are gone now, so it's back to Evidence. [I'm creating the most comprehensive Evidence study guide ever conceived. It incorporates: All of the Rules we've covered (in plain language when possible), my class notes, notes from the Understanding Evidence treatise, and notes from the Law in a Flash flashcards. It's written on a meticulously tabbed spiral-bound yellow legal pad, organized by rule. It is a thing of beauty, and I guard it with my life. Note: Because of this horrifyingly meticulous preparation and all of the time involved, Evidence will inevitably be my lowest grade. It's that thought that gives me the warm, fuzzy feeling that carries me through exams.]

posted by Bekah at 7:36 PM :: |

 
Monkey Business

When you hear a new phrase that you’ve managed to go your entire life without hearing (despite your expensive liberal arts education and grudging completion of nearly half of law school), it never fails that you immediately start to hear that phrase everywhere you go. And, if you’re like me, you start to wonder how you could have lived in the world so long without hearing it. Did you happen to always leave the room just before someone said it? Did you accidentally flip by the page of every novel where the authors used it? After the fact, it appears that you’ve done some pretty fancy maneuvers to have so long avoided this phrase that now seems horrendously overused.

A few weeks ago, J and I were watching ESPN and J said something like, “It’s time for Phil Mickelson to finally win a major. He needs to get that monkey off his back.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked incredulously. “A monkey? Who is this monkey you speak of?”

“Uh, Bekah,” J said tiredly, “It’s an expression. You’ve never heard it?”

“Um…no,” I responded brusquely, “I certainly haven’t. I don’t believe that such a ridiculous phrase exists. I think you made it up. Or maybe it’s some weird Midwestern thing. Like ‘Coney Island’ diners.”

Needless to say, I’ve been encountering that freaking monkey every day since I first heard the phrase. Everybody’s got a monkey on their back. It’s like there’s been an invasion of the goddamn flying attack monkeys from the Wizard of Oz. Perhaps the most unfortunate effect of all of this is that King Kong has recently set up shop on my back, and will continue to hang around until exams are over. I think I would have been happier not knowing he was there.

posted by Bekah at 11:39 AM :: |

 
Mmyeeaahh...I Think They Got the Memo

At this time I would like to give everyone an update on the unexpected effects of my April 19th memo to law professors.

1. My Dad dispersed the memo to the faculty at his law school, to favorable reviews. Some profs completely agreed with my sentiment, opining that perhaps there should be a reading week at the end of the semester. Some commented that the memo was "funny" but that they would "still present new material today." (Kind of an "up yours" from the more ambitious law profs, whose syllabi will bow to no man). Dad forgot his book in the hall this morning, and was rushing back to his class when he passed another prof in the hall who inquired as to the reason for his hurry. After Dad explained, the prof retorted, "But Bill, they DON'T CARE." See, they're learning!

2. My Dad read the memo to his class, and it seems that the students responded favorably to my views, voicing their support through a laughter not often heard in law school classrooms. They laughed, you see, because they too feel my pain. And because they're sleep deprived and slightly loopy. So that was good times. The problem is that, mere moments after reading the memo, my Dad covered a completely new topic in 30 minutes. But, he stammered, he "was apologetic about it..."

3. Despite the kind words from a few profs, and the laughs from a few students, I have to say that the most wondrous effect of the memo is as follows. One of the law profs at my Dad's law school--an esteemed presence; well-loved and venerable--also read my memo to his students. He read the memo, and then he cancelled class.

This is nothing less than a revolution, people. The voice of the students will be heard. Change is imminent.

posted by Bekah at 11:06 AM :: |

 
Can I Get My Certificate in Retail?

Disgruntled Student: It's so frustrating. After law school, we'll be over-prepared for so many jobs, yet still under-prepared for so many other ones. We just fall into the gap...

J: No, we really do fall into the Gap. All we can do is sell chinos.

posted by Bekah at 3:29 PM :: |

 
Thoughts I've Had This Morning

1. It's funny that there's a Bush/Cheney trucker hat because it's so fitting. Trucker hats are so five minutes ago. (Thanks to Scott)

2. If you're ever at a red light and start to get tired of waiting, try to put your hair in a ponytail. The light will inevitably turn green in the middle of that operation.

3. Last night on American Idol, the unthinkable happened: John Stevens made a Barry Manilow song more boring than the original. I used to like that kid, but now I just want to punch him in the face.

4. If you're in law school and are feeling overwhelmed by the ensuing exam season, go buy legal pads, index cards, and tabs. The mere possession of these materials has stopped my heart from exploding in my chest.

5. My friend Elliot told me to do this game, but not "until you are home and your law books are away from you. It would be really tragic if you did it in the law library or something":

1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 23.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.

So I went home and did it (making a concerted effort not to cheat and dig through my bookcase for a "cool" book like Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas or something--but that one is in my car anyway, where J left it after promising to read it), and the first book I picked up was Far From the Madding Crowd. But the sentence was something about Bathsheba thrusting her head into a bush if she was put in a lowcut dress, and that didn't seem right. So then I picked up Jane Austen's Persuasion, but that sentence was something about how "Admirals" sound much more distinguished than "Misters," and how Misters always need some sort of explanation in society. But that sucked too. So I gave up on the game. Until I was in First Amendment, where I tried it again. So it's probably cheating, and it still sucks, but here it goes:

"Thus the accused is to be punished, not for attempt, incitement, or conspiracy, but for a step in preparation, which, if it threatens the public order at all, does so only remotely." The First Amendment, by Steven H. Shiffrin and Jesse H. Choper

Man, that's deep.

posted by Bekah at 9:15 AM :: |

 
Memo #4

To: Law Professors
From: The 2L Community
Re: Friendly Advice

Dear Law Professors:

Greetings! It has been a while since last we corresponded, and, to be honest, I've been feeling a little guilty about the terseness of my prior communications. Let me begin by saying that I owe you an apology for those early memoranda; when I told you to stop making asinine jokes on exams ("Exams aren't funny. Chances are neither are you."), I was simply unable to see the big picture. I was too caught up in the stress of 1L year to see that many of you take pride in making exam hypos based on original topics like "Ben and Jen's unmarried cohabitant property distribution (complete with a determination of the fate of the pink engagement ring)" or "confidentiality issues surrounding insane kidnapper who buries girl in desert and then attempts to convert his lawyer to Christianity through scripture-infused ransom notes." I can see now that law professors have to get their kicks somehow, and I can't fault you for trying to do that at the expense of tired, pissy, sleep-deprived law students--especially 1Ls. They are so fun to torture, aren't they? I try to trip them in the hall whenever I get the chance.

But as long as I'm being honest, I just have to level with you: Anything you attempt to teach during the last week and a half of the semester is virtually impossible for students to take seriously. All we want to do at this point is to come up with some semblance of an understanding of your course as a whole. No. No, strike that. I'll be even more frank. All we want to do is figure out how to do well on your exam. We have no interest in starting a new unit; we have no interest in careful reading or understanding of new topics; and we certainly have no interest in attempting to read ahead when we know that your ridiculously optimistic projections about syllabus coverage will inevitably fall short.

I'll be blunt: A week and a half before exams, just stop trying to teach us anything. Any knowledge you attempt to impart to us will bounce off our ears like contestants bouncing off the walls on Spike TV's Extreme Elimination Challenge (best show ever). There is simply no more room in the brains of law students at this point in the semester. And even if that wasn't the case--even if we did have endless amounts of empty brain space in which to store your last, flailing efforts to cover every inch of the subject matter--the plain fact of the matter is that we just don't care anymore. We don't care that imparting knowledge is your life. We don't care that you spend day and night curled up with the Federal Rules of Evidence writing love letters to the Advisory Committee. We. Don't. Care. We love you--you are good people--but we don't care. Sorry. You're pretty.

Pleasant exam writing,

The 2L Community

posted by Bekah at 8:22 PM :: |