No Good Titles Come To Mind For This ...

I survived all my finals and made it home for Christmas, and I will most definitely be a bad blogger for the next few weeks. I am actually quite excited about the prospect of choosing my own books to read for nearly an entire month. Yesterday, for example, I sucked up my pride and read the first of the "Vampire Books" that every female in the state seems to be obsessed with. I admit, I read the entire book in one day, but by the end the constant and excessive proclamations of love became a bit (or a lot) much. Sorry Mom, but if True Love means doing nothing but telling someone repeatedly, over and over again, all the time, how much more I love him, how dazzled I am by him, and how I cannot possibly live or breathe without him, I am definitely staying single ...

My Life ...

You know your life has reached new lows when:

1. You drink Airborne with your lunch. Like a regular beverage.
2. Your pantry has five types of cold medicine, and basically nothing else.
3. Interacting with the outside world means turning on the television for the first time all week.
4. You get more excited about a brief (and unfortunately temporary) respite from the constant ringing in your ears than about the Christmas decorations at the White House.
5. You saw someone relieve herself while riding the Metro. (Yes. IN the Metro car. In front of me.)

Seriously. Wow. Only one more final until I rediscover real life ...

Higher Math ...

So, in addition to my cold, the doctor at the oh-so-lovely urgent care center where I spent my Saturday morning tells me that I have an ear infection. So I take my prescription for 20 pills to the local Rite-Aid. I come home and find that I have only ten pills. I call them, they remember my nasally voice, and tell me to come back to get the other ten. I tell them I will come later. And I do. They give me the new prescription. I resist my neurotic urge to count the pills in the store. Surely no pharmacist would miscount ten pills, right? I come home. I count the pills. All eight of them. I go back yet again. Seriously. Makes me worry.

In other news, last night C. and I decided to recover from our most recent final by going out to see the lights at the D.C. Temple. On the way we stopped at a delicious pizza place by the National Cathedral, and we strolled over to check out the cathedral, too, to cover as many religions as possible in one night. (OK, so we just covered two. But still.) As C. so wittily quoted my new favorite speech-giver, "We need the prayers of all faiths to get through these finals." And we do. C., for the record, also has a cold. But she kindly listens to me complain as though I am the only person in the world ever to have such an ailment ...

A Good Speech ...

I liked Mitt's speech. Actually, it made my day. To see it, click here ...

Good News, Bad News ...

The Good News:
It snowed. And my first final is finished.

The Bad News:
My cold seems to be getting worse. And I still have to take three finals ...

The Highest Court In The Land ...

Birthday buddies T. and C.

On Friday I made an exception to the all-day-every-day study rule for a chance to a) see one of my favorite people, my friend T. (who not only shares my love of all things London but the same birthday, too) and b) take a special tour of the Supreme Court (led by one of Justice Thomas' clerks, who happens to be T's relative). However, what I thought would be a motivational tour making me want to study more in fact made me worry more. (I should be home! I should be studying! I should be reading and rereading! I should be highlighting! I should be writing and rewriting! I should not be enjoying myself!) Really, a person cannot walk through halls and halls of law books without feeling a twinge of guilt for those unopened books at home. But seeing T., along with the Supreme Court courtroom, dining room, library (which of course I loved) ... AND basketball court (the highest court in the land, located directly above the courtroom and complete with one sign forbidding playing during court proceedings and another one announcing Justice O'Connor's jazzercise class) made the worry worth it ...

P.S. Sorry, Dad and R., but you will definitely need to rely on a more studious someone to get you access to play on that court ... unfortunately, I did not learn by osmosis during my tour ...

Ode To My Profs ...

This first episode of law school brought to us by the letters M, B, B and B. (Yes, in honor of what felt like the last day of elementary school, when the teacher congratulates you for finishing while telling you how to survive the more difficult junior high tasks to come, I am reverting to the Sesame Street days.)

As of 2:35 p.m. today, I have officially finished one entire semester of law school classes. (Just the actual classes, mind you. I still have to take the finals.) But before I start studying all day every day and definitely before I start taking the actual finals (a frightening event set to begin next Wednesday at 2 p.m.) I pay tribute to those professors who made it all possible. (I also think I better write the nice words now, since as soon as the previously mentioned tasks begin to occur I will most certainly rethink this.)

For the last day of class, each professor had an inspiring speech prepared (and delivered in each case with great flair, as I am sure the law school professor manual suggests). One Prof. B told us to consider becoming personal injury attorneys. Another suggested becoming public defenders. But the real news of the day came during our last class, taught by my favorite, Prof. M. After telling us about the final exam, he told us he had been called to active duty. We all just stared at him. He quickly clarified that he would be on active duty in Virginia, as a military judge, and would still be our professor. We breathed a community sigh of relief.

Moral of the story: I really, really liked Profs. B, B, B and M. I liked that they gave us speeches about doing good along with doing well, and that they volunteered to be our mentors. I am quite confident that I will not like any of them one week from tonight, but for now, thanks ...

Shameless Product Placement ...

I really, really love this. It smells like Christmas. If you find yourself in the Atlanta airport, do not make the same mistake I did. Stop worrying about possible spillage and BUY IT!

In other shopping news, my local Costco made the NYT today. Thanks to this article, I will now pay much closer attention to my fellow shoppers ...

A Happy Thanksgiving ...

So, my parents and I splurged (to put it mildly, thanks Mom and Dad!) on a plane ticket home for Thanksgiving. (At expensive times like these it helps if I think about my life as a credit card commercial.) Anyway, I had a fabulous (dare I say "priceless") time with the family. In three short days I surprised my brother and sister, saw "Enchanted" (and loved it, though perhaps not as much as my Dad ...), watched "Miracle on 34th Street" (the new version) and realized that lawyers do Very Important Things like defending Santa Claus, shopped at the outlets (with the entire family, quite an entertaining treat for the other shoppers, I assure you), bought desperately needed new footwear (comfy brown shoes and not-as-comfy black boots), ate a delicious dinner with my extended family (thanks, Aunt J!), and played games (with a bonus of watching Nana bowl on the Nintendo Wii). I loved being home! Luckily, I also love it here ... when I walked into my apartment building toting my too-large red suitcase, one of the Old Men With Walkers who hang out in the lobby (a story for another post I think) greeted me with a friendly "Welcome Home!" And now, I should greet my not-so-friendly (and far too unfamiliar) class outlines ...

Should Be Studying ...

... But I am Googling instead. A really, really bad habit. And on the topic of Google, I must say I find the ads on my Gmail screen really creepy. They all too frequently relate to something I have discussed in an e-mail, so obviously someone (or more likely, something) reads my PRIVATE correspondence and assumes I am a brainless consumer who will buy something simply because it appears to be tailored to my needs. Then why, on a page of ads about D.C., candy, and LDS singles, did I see one for gastric bypass surgery?! Sorry, but I am not considering such a process, and a measly ad really won't change my mind about that ...

Equality In Toilets ...

Today one Prof. B told our class about a possible new lawsuit he has concocted. The man takes partial credit for suing Big Tobacco and McDonald's, among many, many others, so imagine our interest in learning about this new scheme: suing the law school over restroom inequality. I am impressed that he recognizes that women must suffer the agony (only an exaggeration sometimes) of waiting in much longer lines to use the facilities. But really. A lawsuit about this? He proposes making men's bathrooms at school unisex so men, women and transgendered people can all use them. He asked us about our bathroom preferences and ideas for 30 minutes after class. (Use your imagination here people.) Definitely a discussion I did not expect when I signed up for law school ...

For more on equality, read this interesting article in the NYT. I especially like the headline ...

The Curse Of The Missing Card ...

I had a depressing few days, with a slew of minor mishaps that contributed to my foul mood. It all began when I decided to fix my printer on Friday night. For the last few weeks, it would scan but not print. I tested this very trait by scanning my Metro card. The scan worked, and you can see it here in all its glory, but the printer still would not print. So I called the Dell people (really, we should be on a first-name basis by now), they solved the problem, and I promptly forgot about the Metro card still on the scanner. The next morning, I frantically rushed around looking for the card. I finally left my apartment without my card and by then in a horrible mood that would only get worse. (So bad that even retail therapy did not cure it.) Well, tonight I decided that my bad luck must end. I vowed not to stop searching until I found my card. And find it I did. Right on my scanner where I left it. I have never been so happy to see a piece of plastic ...

Now, for more good news, actually, for much better news, read this happy article. It could be partly due to my new post-curse, Zen-like state, but I nearly cried while reading it. And that does not happen often ... well, apart from last weekend, I mean ...

Law School Math ...

My previous complaining about indecipherable cases now seems premature, as the law school gods (a.k.a. my professors) recently assigned a case obviously directed towards those of us who regularly check People.com.

In Parker v. Twentieth Century-Fox, Shirley MacLaine sued the movie studio for not paying her for a role she never actually had to perform because the studio cancelled the movie. (I am sure she really needed that money, too.) The judges kindly acquiesced to her request (yes, in keeping with my theme, I did steal that line from a movie, but luckily those script writers so worried about copyright violation have other concerns this week) and awarded her both money and this little ego-inflating nugget in their opinion: "The female lead as a dramatic actress in a western style motion picture can by no stretch of imagination be considered the equivalent of or substantially similar to the lead in a song-and-dance production." Oh, the important matters of justice.

I should also note that dear Prof. M, who brings us the aforementioned legal entertainment, also brings us law school math. My People.com skills once again proved helpful in deciphering this equation from a case we discussed in class today:

[promised nose - old nose] + [old nose - disfigured nose] - doctor's fees = damages

Now this shows how law school should really be. Disfigured noses and celebrity gossip. And math with no numbers involved ...

The More Things Change ...

... The more they stay the same. I move 2,000 miles away, stop working at a very conservative bank and start attending a very liberal school, where I could theoretically form an entirely new identity and join student groups ranging from the Chinese Language Group to Law Students for Reproductive Justice. (OK, maybe I would need to do a bit of studying before attending the Chinese Language Group. Actually, I'd need to do a bit of studying about reproductive justice, too. And I'd probably feel more comfortable speaking in Chinese than conversing about the latter.) Anyway, what do I choose to do? The law school newspaper. The same newspaper I had previously vowed not to read, let alone work for. Now I not only read it, but I design it. You would think I would have learned my lesson by now ...

Now, back to foreign languages. The cases I read sound increasingly foreign to me, which worries me with finals looming just one month away. Take United States v. Peterson, for example: "Hinged on the exigencies of self-preservation, the doctrine of homicidal self-defense emerges from the body of the criminal law as a limited though important exception to the legal outlawry of the arena of self-help in the settlement of potentially fatal personal conflicts."

I think I need to use more words like "outlawry" and "potentially fatal personal conflicts" in my writing ...

This Week ...

So I am watching "Little Women" for the third time this week, and thinking of my sister at home celebrating her birthday without me. (I do homework while I watch ... I am not completely lazy.) Anyway, all these years later, I still love Jo March. And after all these years, I finally approve of her marrying Prof. Baer. Does this mean I am growing up?

And as promised, the photos from last week at this time (well, technically not at this time, with the time change today) ...

Outside the entrance to the West Wing. (You "West Wing" fans should recognize the scene.)

Me in the press room, channeling my inner C.J. (Again, for you "West Wing" fans.)

Outside in the Rose Garden, with the Oval Office in the background. A few minutes before this photo, the president's dog scampered right past this area.

The two C's, outside the staff entrance to the West Wing ...

Happy Halloween ...

The best parts about Halloween:

The package from my Mom. (Of course she made that cute bag.)

Tomorrow I can listen to Christmas music!

Honestly, Halloween does not rank high on my list of favorite holidays. I do not like dressing up in skintight, scandalous clothing and I do not drink any liberating beverages. So I am left with only candy, and I eat it all year anyway. So I really like Halloween best when it ends and I can finally start celebrating the best time of year: Thanksgiving/Christmas/My Birthday. (Yes, why wait until becoming president to declare my birthday a holiday? Now that I have a blog, I can declare whatever I want whenever I want ...)

My Psychic Powers ...

I imagine that a lawyer with psychic powers would be quite in demand. So I consider it quite fortuitous that I possess such powers. They manifested themselves again last night, when I just knew I would be called on in class today. (I mostly knew because I also had a major paper due today, so I did not prepare for my other classes as well as I should have. Yes, you would think that knowing I would be called on would make me actually prepare for such an event. But no such luck.) Well, sure enough, the teacher called on me and proceeded to question me for 15 minutes (typical for him). Luckily I know about some other powers besides psychic ones, and after praying intently that I would not completely humiliate myself, I emerged from the experience relatively unscathed. Whew.

If the prayer had not worked, however, I could use a new remedy from my torts class, where today we learned about suing God. Evidently if God does not appear in court, you can collect through one of his agents. (Well, you can try. According to my oh-so-believable Prof. B, one courthouse got struck by lightning and the judge killed as he decided such a case.) In the same class today, we also read a case about a man cleaning a vending machine with gasoline in a room with an open flame. A rat ran out of the vending machine, where it apparently lived, went near the flame, of course started on fire, and then ran back into the vending machine, which then exploded. Yes. This shows why I like law school. As Prof. M told us the first day of school, "You read stories all day, while your friends in other fields do real work." This also shows why I will be staying away from vending machines for a while ...

A Frightening Thought ...

You know you have been working on a paper for too long when you suddenly start reading it aloud to yourself in a British accent. You know you need to keep working on it, however, when even the accent does not make it sound interesting or good ...

The West Wing ...

I used to spend Sunday nights watching "The West Wing" with my family (and for the record, I quite enjoyed it). Tonight, however, I spent Sunday night at the actual West Wing! I saw the Oval Office, the Situation Room (OK, the door of the Situation Room), the press room and the president's dog. I will post photos soon, but I just could not resist an immediate announcement ... yes, I love my life ...

Senatorial Courtesy ...

The best view in Washington: The Capitol Rotunda

Question: How is my Civil Procedure professor (yet another Prof. B) like Bill Clinton? Answer: Both are married to United States Senators.

Question: How is Prof. B's wife (Amy Klobuchar, D-Minn.) unlike Hillary Clinton? Answer: I actually like her. (Klobuchar, not Clinton.)

Question: Why do I bring this up?
Answer: Keep reading.

To reward us for taking our Civil Procedure midterm, or maybe just to make us like him again, Prof. B and Sen. Klobuchar (sorry, public figures do not get the protection of my abbreviations) invited our classes (about 50 students) to the Senate and Capitol last night for a tour and pizza party. This tour of the Capitol certainly topped the tours I used to give. For starters, our tour guides (Klobuchar and one of her staffers) knew much more than I ever did about the building and its history. And going onto the actual Senate Floor after hours with an actual sitting senator definitely added to the intrigue. The regular tour definitely does not include the Senate Floor!

I really liked Sen. Klobuchar, too. She seemed so friendly and unpretentious, and having only served in the Senate since January, she understood and appreciated our excitement to be there. And, she told us a good story about her husband. Evidently he participates faithfully in the Senate spouse club, much more than the few other husbands (the Senate only has 15 women). Well, one day Sen. Klobuchar and another female senator saw Prof. B carrying a box wrapped in pink paper, and discovered that he was en route to a baby shower for another senator's wife. Sen. Klobuchar characterized it as a victory for women everywhere, and I agree. (Obviously, she had not purchased ... or wrapped ... this gift for him ...)

Some other interesting bits of trivia I learned:

• The current female senators represent about half of all women who have ever served as U.S. Senators. (I think the tour guide said there have been 32 in all.)
• Each year, the president inspects and grades the gorgeous chandelier on the Senate side near the Rotunda. Only one president gave it an A- (all the rest gave it an A).
• Senators can purchase the chair they use in the Senate after they retire.

The Big Apple ...

Do not be fooled. This post does NOT mean the end of my Internet woes, which thus far include:

• An hour and a half on the phone with the Verizon man
  
• A half hour with the first GW Help Desk person
• An hour with the first Dell chat person
• A half hour with the second GW Help Desk person (who then told me to call Dell)
• Ten minutes with the second Dell chat person (who then told me to call someone else)

Moral of the story? I really, really, really dislike computers in general right now and mine in specific. And maybe this would not happen if I owned an Apple computer. (Mostly I just added that sentence to tie the computers to my next topic ...)

In happier times, before I returned home to electronic turmoil, I had a lovely weekend in New York City with my pals H., K., and E. So, for a change, I will report photographically ... but first I should note that, like a worm, I ate my way through the Big Apple. Unlike a worm, I also walked. A lot. Basically I walked and ate for two days. No lie. And let me also note that yes, I did do my hair before traveling to such a stylish city. But it happened to be raining the entire first day. And remember my broken umbrella? So there went my hair (and let us all please refrain from actually looking at it in these photos) ...

On Day One, after a lengthy, rainy bus ride where I discovered that I really like looking at people in the cars below, I met H. for lunch. Then we walked around and met K., who works in the building with this evidently famous sculpture thing out front.

Then we ate dinner at a place with the best onion rings I have ever tasted.
Then we walked around Times Square.

Then we went to Starbucks and had apple cider with E. Then we walked to the subway and to H. and K.'s adorable apartment with a fantastic view of the city just across the river.

This would be us walking across the Brooklyn Bridge on Day Two (you know this because the sky is blue, not cloudy and gray, and the photo is clear, not misty).

The line at this famous place starts forming 20 minutes before it opens. We opted to walk around the wharf (or pier ... like I know the difference) instead of being first in line ...

Yummy pizza, with the gang. In the front, you see my lovely hosts, H. and K.

The gang again, on the wharf/pier, with the skyline in the background.

On the topic of buildings, let me say that K. can name basically all of them, and this after living in the city for only two months. He also knows how to get anywhere in the city, including the bathroom at Macey's. Seriously. With K. around, I never had to worry about how to get anywhere, except home. Which I returned to all too quickly ...

I have now logged off and on successfully ... once ... and I am quite happy about it. In fact, I consider it a miracle (and I am not being facetious) ...

Speed Bumps ...

I had a fabulous time in New York City this weekend (and I will post some photos very soon) but I returned home to a maddeningly slow Internet connection and a car with a non functioning speedometer ...

Addendum To The Last ...

OK, so after writing my celebratory post, a dear old friend called me with MUCH more exciting news: At nearly the exact time I finished my first law school exam, she delivered her first baby. Now that puts my very minor accomplishment in perspective ...

Bread, Chocolate and The Awakening ...

"The Awakening"

I JUST FINISHED MY FIRST LAW SCHOOL EXAM! (Yes, a sentence worthy of all caps, in my humble opinion.) To celebrate, my roommate C. and I and some friends went to a lovely cafe C. discovered called Bread and Chocolate. Obviously, a delicious (and adorable, it had a yellow awning!) place. I ate crepes (the menu called them German Pancakes, but they really were crepes) filled with Nutella. And believe me, I enjoyed it. But I think I deserved it. Not only did I take my midterm, and live to tell the tale, but yesterday C. and I went for a VERY long run (OK, long to me ...). We ran across the 14th Street Bridge, which crosses the Potomac, and then along the river to the Awakening statue. By the time we made it there, I definitely felt anything but awakened ... both in mind and body. But now, with some chocolate in me, my exam finished (itself an awakening, to be sure) and with no classes for the rest of the week, I feel much better (and only slightly sore from the run) ...

Richmond, Ramadan and Happy Halloween ...

I really should be working on a paper right about now ... but I just got off the phone with one of my very favorite people (that would be you, Nana) and it feels too jarring to go from happy to painful so quickly. So I am writing here to ease the transition. (And because I wanted to post the adorable Halloween card I received in the mail today. It is much cuter inside, but since it is a POP UP card, I could not scan that ...) Anyway, since I have now noted the upcoming pagan candy holiday, I should also give equal space to some opposite topics. First, General Conference. On Sunday, I went to Richmond with some friends to watch it at a real house (a.k.a. a friend's parents' house) and had a fun, food-filled time. Then on Monday night, the Muslim society at school had a Ramadan dinner and invited the other religious groups (Mormon and Jewish, mainly) to come ... also a fun, food-filled (and quite informative and interesting) time ...

Supreme Professors ...

Before school started, I watched what I now know to be the classic law school movie, The Paper Chase. I watched parts of it three times, actually. I found it so tedious and ridiculous the first time that I fell asleep. I managed to get through it the second time, and then Prof. B (actually, I have three Prof. B's, so I guess their anonymity will be protected more than most) "invited" my class to watch it again the first day of school.

So, I consider myself sufficiently versed in The Paper Chase, and I continued to consider it ridiculous. Until recently, when I realized that I am quickly becoming exactly what I ridiculed. For you lucky souls not familiar with The Paper Chase, the main character basically worships his Contracts professor. Now, do not worry, my fascination has not reached worship. But it could.

Today, a group of us had lunch with two professors (a different Prof. B and Prof. M). These kind (yes, I term them kind, but only when they stop acting like Socrates) fellows have lunch with a group of students every week, and I took my turn today. I already really liked both of them, but in particular found myself intrigued by Prof. M. And now I know why.

Not only does Prof. M start class exactly on time every day and notify us before he calls on us, but he basically knows the entire Supreme Court. Yes, THE Supreme Court. Now, in reading my new book about the Supreme Court, I have learned about the Bork controversy, the Kennedy nomination, the Thomas nomination and controversy, and the Roberts nomination. Well, Prof. M clerked for Bork, clerked for Kennedy, and then came back and clerked for Thomas during his first year on the Court. (The year I just finished reading about, where Thomas would write his own opinions and then the other justices would want to join. So his law clerks obviously did some good work!) Seriously! And, then years later, the Court appointed Prof. M to work on another case, this one with then-attorney and now Chief Justice John Roberts. So my professor knows him too! WOW!

And now, enough with the cheese and exclamation marks. Back to complaining about my homework ...

Freedom Is Not Free ...

Yesterday after classes I walked (from school, quite a trek ... OK not really, but it sure felt like it with my backpack on) to the monuments with someone visiting D.C. for the first time. I always love looking at the monuments, but I appreciate them even more when I go with someone who has never seen them before. Even better, yesterday we found the World War I Memorial, which I had never seen before.

Near the Korean War Memorial ...

To me, this phrase sums up all of the monuments and memorials ...

In honor of a new namesake ...

The World War I Memorial ... built in the '30s, so it just says 'World War' Memorial ...

P.S. So I know I promised not to refer to people by name on this blog, but it just feels strange not to actually identify the people I talk about. So, if no one objects, I am going to start referring to people with their first initials, which I think should preserve sanity and identity at the same time ...

President of 9/12 ...

I like this column in the NYT. I do not agree with all of it, but I do agree with the sentiment of Thomas Friedman's conclusion: "We need a president who will unite us around a common purpose, not a common enemy. Al Qaeda is about 9/11. We are about 9/12, we are about the Fourth of July — which is why I hope that anyone who runs on the 9/11 platform gets trounced."

National Book Festival ...

Confession: I bought a hardback, full-priced book today. I felt a bit guilty about it, until I got the chills reading the prologue. A writer who inspires that reaction in a crowded, sweaty Metro station deserves my money! But, I suppose I should start my story at the beginning. Today I went to the Mall for the National Book Festival, hosted by the Library of Congress and Laura Bush. What could be better than that?! Nothing! I love Laura (I think even the protesters I passed on the way to the festival would agree with my view of her as the epitome of classiness), I love the Library of Congress (still my favorite building in town), and I of course love the books! So I of course had to buy one: Supreme Conflict. I allowed myself to read for 30 minutes ... after I purposely took the long Metro route home so I could read on the train ...

A book about the Supreme Court, purchased just steps from the Capitol at the First Lady's book festival ... three branches of government in one transaction ...

Happy Friday ...

The Girls at The Wedding ... in those innocent days before we discovered Scottish lawyers, Crystal Drive, parentheticals and being a Mrs. ...


P.S. No, I am not so self absorbed as to think that looking at a photo of my friends means other people will have a happy Friday. But I had a request to post it, so there ...

University Yard ...

I sat outside for an hour between classes today to enjoy the absolutely perfect autumn weather. A few other people had the same idea:

• The lady at the hot dog stand outside the law school did some calisthenics before opening her stand. Her routine included jumping up and down repeatedly, swinging her arms around, turning slowly in a circle with her arms out, and then sort of bowing. Quite strange, really. (Disclaimer: If I am unaware of some sort of religious ritual, and I am being completely insensitive, please disregard the previous paragraph.) Rumor has it that someone once tried to sue the hot dog stand for not having the right permit or something. Do not mess with a swarm of law professors and overly enthusiastic soon-to-be-lawyers looking for a cause ... the stand remains and the suit does not.
• Twenty preschoolers came outside to blow bubbles, draw on the sidewalks with colored chalk, and run through the sprinklers (fully clothed, of course).
• And my personal favorite ... the truck with the "petroleum recovery and tank pumping service" and "spill response" labels on the side. Lovely. I do not even want to know what that truck needed to pump from my school.

In other news, yesterday I learned that I might (emphasize the might) qualify as a reasonably prudent person. All because of my Dad, who taught me that tires need tread. Yes, evidently reasonably prudent people need to know this ...

A Good Day ...

Various happenings made my day a good one. (Wore never-washed-so-still-fuzzy sweatshirt, ate giant cookie brought to class by writing teacher in recognition of finishing first law school memo, and found rare good parking spaces at both grocery store and apartment.)

And now my readers (Hi Mom!) have experienced an only slightly exaggerated example of law school writing, which has obviously consumed my mind for the past few days and which includes cryptic descriptive sentences called parentheticals. If you do not believe me, click here to see a Supreme Court brief with some. (Read and note the names on the first page, just for fun, then scroll down to at least page 15 ...)

Food Fight ...

DC seems to have quite an active wildlife scene, and I am not referring to donkeys, elephants, or even the National Zoo. No, I am talking about the omnipresent pigeons, squirrels, and little birds. I like these animals in order of their a) cuteness level, and b) threat level. Obviously, this means the little birds come first. I find the ones that wander under the tables on the patio at school adorable (and no, I have no idea of what type of "little birds" I am discussing here). Next would be the squirrels. Generally I find them entertaining, although one once threatened to attack me on a bench outside the Capitol. (I think it thought I would share my lunch, so it clearly did not know about my attachment to my food.) Finally, the lowest of DC animals: pigeons. (I could make a political analogy here, but I will refrain.) Today I watched a flock of them fighting over a chunk of bread. They did not attack me, I will admit, but they came a bit too close to my pretzels. (Again, I do not share my food with animals! OK, maybe the cute little birds ...) But on the topic of fighting for food, I thoroughly enjoyed this article in the NYT today ...

P.S. One more item about birds ... well, sort of. Today I saw a t-shirt that said, "I would rather go hunting with Dick Cheney than riding with Ted Kennedy." I laughed ...

Sometimes I Have Fun ...

To reward anyone who actually suffered through the last few lengthy (and you can say it, dull) posts, I will keep this one short. And, I will prove that sometimes I do have a life (well, sort of) besides my books ...

Sometimes I go to Chinatown ... (well, OK, I only went once) ...

Sometimes I go to the harbor in Old Town Alexandria ... in the rain ... (OK, that just happened once, too, but I am DEFINITELY going there again ...)

An Ordinary Man ...

I am too tired, and evidently too ordinary, to think of any stories of my own today, but I did read a gem of a lawsuit in my Torts book yesterday ...

In Cordas v. Peerless Transp. Co., Justice Carlin tells the tale of an ordinary man in New York City, 1941. The judicial opinion begins: "This case presents the ordinary man - that problem child of the law - in a most bizarre setting. As a lowly chauffeur ... he became in a trice the protagonist in a breach-bating drama with a denouement almost tragic."

Believe me, most cases do NOT include such dramatic writing. (And unlike Justice Carlin, most judges do not include references to Shakespeare in their opinions.) The basic plot of this one has the "lowly chauffeur" being sued, basically, for being ordinary. After a gun-wielding thief jumped into his taxi, the man jumped out and the taxi subsequently injured a mother and two children. They only sustained minor injuries, but sued him, claiming he negligently saved his own life, rather than thinking of the interests of any possible people on the street.

And now, back to Justice Carlin:

"There are those who stem the turbulent current for bubble fame, or who bridge the yawning chasm with a leap for the leap's sake or who ‘outstare the sternest eyes that look, outbrave the heart most daring on the earth, pluck the young sucking cubs from the she-bear, yea, mock the lion when he roars for prey’ to win a fair lady and these are the admiration of the generality of men; but they are made of sterner stuff than the ordinary man upon whom the law places no duty of emulation. ... The chauffeur - the ordinary man in this case - acted in a split second in a most harrowing experience. To call him negligent would be to brand him coward; the court does not do so in spite of what those swaggering heroes, ‘whose valor plucks dead lions by the beard’, may bluster to the contrary."

Just feeling ordinary (instead of completely inept, as school makes me feel these days) sounds good right about now ...

Shiny Shoes ...

I like the Metro ... well, at least I do on the days when I do not arrive at the station immediately after my train has left. I especially like watching my fellow Metro riders and imagining their stories. And the most interesting stories often involve the shiny-shoed, uniformed people who get on and off at the Pentagon stop. Well, today, some of the shiny shoes got on at the Pentagon and then got off at Arlington Cemetery, where, I imagined, they would do something important. (I have a few scenarios in mind, but noting the length of my last post, I will leave those out.) An added highlight of the scenario: Today two of the shiny shoes accompanied a very attractive face ...

You Will Never Be Younger Than Today ...

You know you have really arrived when eighth graders read your writing in English class. So, thanks to my favorite junior high school teacher (well, not my teacher ... my friend who IS a teacher), I have arrived. But this recent publicity (please note the sarcasm here, people) adds some pressure to my posting. Now I really need to think of more studious themes. Today's theme: time. More specifically, the times of my life.

• Every day at exactly 12:13 on my watch, the bells on the clock tower at school start ringing. I am not sure of the song, and I am REALLY not sure why it starts at 12:13.
• The people in my classes (myself included) still arrive freakishly early, so we are always ready long before the time our class actually begins. One of our professors, who also arrives early, always stands at the podium for a few minutes before class officially starts. We all stop talking and stare at him, and he stares at us. Then we all stare at the clock. And as soon as the clock shows EXACTLY 9:55 a.m., 1:40 p.m. or 11 a.m. (this class starts at a different time every day, do not ask me why) he starts his lecture and we all start laughing.
• Today someone told me that he felt old to be turning 23. I did not tell him how old I am. Then, just one hour later, I heard an entirely different person in my class tell another person that she makes fun of her husband for being so old. He is 25. Which leads me to the title of this post, the lyrics (maybe even the title, I am not sure and I am too lazy to investigate) to the song playing when I began this entry. I found it quite fitting, and an example of ...
• Perfect timing. Another example: Today I felt strange and unsettled for some reason (which really surprised me, since I am wearing a new shirt and that usually signifies a good day) and by the time I came home from school I really just wanted to go to bed. But lo and behold, I had received a package from my dear friend (the teacher from the first paragraph, who I will not name because I like to protect identities). Anyway, it had my favorite treats inside and completely made my day ... even though I will never be younger than today ...

The Grass Is Greener ...

I am not just being cute with a cliche when I say the grass is greener at home. It really is, and I do not understand how or why. Here I live in a tree-covered place with humidity at tropical rainforest levels (OK, I have never actually been to a tropical rainforest, but I have an active imagination) and I am looking longingly at the grass in a DESERT. What?! I suppose it could be that the grass here has a trillion people stomping on it (Cougars may not cut corners, but people here really do) or maybe they do not believe in sprinklers. Whatever the reason, I miss the good grass.

And on the topic of missing, today I am remembering my dear old fish, Josh Lyman, whose untimely death last September caused me great woe. I thought of poor Josh Lyman when I read this sad tale in the NYT. Read all the way to the end of the story, or you miss the best part ...

BYOB ...

So I just want to report that I went to a party in Dupont. I think it makes me sound interesting. For the record, we did not bring our own beer. We drank Fresca. But we met one industrious fellow who had a bottle opener as part of the bottom of his shoe ...

Football And Fashion ...

I am really expanding beyond my traditional discussion topics this week. First fashion, and now football. I am so diverse! (Not to worry, I will return to law school in a few sentences, and Oprah will show up, too.)

Back to football. Today I watched a game. My team lost. But the point: I watched the game. On TV. My roommate and I wanted to go to a sports club where she could watch the game, I could watch the people watching the game, and we could both eat the fries. That plan did not work. We went to a house instead, where I got neither people watching nor fries. Which forced me to actually watch the game and listen to the announcers, who kept commenting about rulings and then overturning rulings. Now, I really do not care what those words mean in sports land, but they have meanings in law land, too, and I did not particularly want to be thinking about them on my Saturday night. Oh well.

Now, as basically everyone knows, I am NOT a fan of the O conglomerate. But I am quite intrigued to see how Oprah's support will help Barack Obama, my favorite of the Democratic contenders for president. Despite Oprah's endorsement, I like Obama. (Not nearly as much as I like Mitt Romney, but much more than I like some other candidates who for now shall remain nameless in case I change my mind and decide I want to work for them some day.) Anyway, Oprah evidently had quite a gala for Obama tonight, and she actually instructed people to wear flat shoes instead of heels so they would not damage her meadow or some such thing (this from an article I read on CNN). I wonder how you word that type of request on a formal invite. Something to consider. And now I am back to fashion ...

White Shorts After Labor Day ...

Me writing about fashion probably means I have nothing interesting to report about anything else. I like my predictable life of school, school and more school, but I can really only write about studying so many times before I get bored with my own blog, and that would be pathetic. Which brings me back to fashion. The one (and only) benefit I find to living far from home would be the distance I am from the eyes of my always-fashionable family members. For example, I can now wear my favorite rainbow striped shirt EVERY day if I want to, and no one will threaten to hide, burn or otherwise mutilate it. But while I like knowing I can dress however I want without anyone actually noticing, caring or worrying about my dating prospects, it also means I am lacking my traditional trusted sources of clothing approval. For example, today I wore white shorts. Two days after Labor Day. And I do not know if this means I committed a crime of fashion (not to be confused with a crime of passion). I know there used to be a rule against such apparel, but I also remember hearing that the rule no longer applied. So I have just given up completely, and am now back to my pajamas ... the striped ones, of course ...

I Really Live Here ...

I have lived in Washington for exactly one month, as of today. And though not without its challenges, I really love it here. So, a few favorites from the past month:

• The Yellow Line. Definitely my favorite Metro line. I really like crossing over the river (as opposed to going under it, like the other lines).
  
• T.B.M. sandwiches at Cosi.


• The Jefferson Memorial. It can be tricky to get there, but I still like it best. I love the writing engraved on the walls.


• My computer. Though I think it might be adding to my vision woes, I like being able to type anywhere I want ... my bed, my couch, my special table at school.


• The newspapers! I of course love the Washington Post, and I am also a big fan of the free Express newspaper (also published by the Post).


• My daily horoscope in the Express. Yes, this deserves its own bullet point. A girl should be prepared for what lies ahead, and even someone with my psychic powers can use some help with that. (Although speaking of bullet points, I read in the Express last week that the number of guns in America now equates to 9 guns for every 10 people. I did not feel good about that information. For the record, I am NOT a member of the NRA.)


• School. I did not realize just how much it would take over my entire life ... in a good way. Even when I am not studying, I am somehow thinking (and to be entirely honest, worrying) about it ...

I Had A Dream ...

So last night I had a dream (always an intro to a fascinating story, I know) that I went to a baseball game with a random fellow (no idea who, and in the dream I only vaguely knew him). So at the game I bought the fellow a hot dog. Then, sometime later, I invited the fellow to another game. Well, this time when we went to get a hot dog, my eyes stopped functioning. (More on that later.) I went back to my chair, and the fellow bought a hot dog for himself, but not one for me. Now this annoyed me. I had invited him twice and bought him a hot dog once, and he did not even have the decency to buy me a hot dog when I had gone temporarily blind!? The nerve. Anyway, once I regained my sight, I bought myself a hot dog, and then while walking back to my seat I became blind again. And I cannot remember any more.

Obviously, I have really strange dreams. But the temporary blindness theme keeps recurring, and it really annoys me, so I thought that maybe if I publicly expunged my brain of it, I could make it go away. (Seriously. I have rather frequent dreams where I will be in the middle of doing something and I suddenly cannot see. Tell me other people have these dreams too?!) Anyway, I could really use Joseph (of Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat fame, for those not up on their Bible stories) right about now ... or maybe David Osmond ... hehehe ...

Small Victories ...

Those unfortunate people who accompanied me while I attempted to find the Cheesecake Factory when I lived here three years ago will be quite proud of my accomplishment tonight: I drove to the restaurant without making a wrong turn, without finding myself lost in the parking lot at the Pentagon, and without shedding a single tear. Hold the applause, please. And maybe, just maybe, if anyone ever visits me here, I could repeat the feat. OK technically my roommate deserves the credit as all-star navigator, but I did the actual driving, so that should count for something ...

And The Creatures At My School ...

I know I already posted once today, but this occurrence just had to be reported. Today I found an ant crawling through the pages of my notebook. Yes, an ant. A little black ant. I squished it, of course, but ew. So, just one question: How do paper ants compare to book worms on the list of intelligent insects?

The People At My School ...

So for one day at least, Socrates and I could be friends. I made it nearly two weeks here without being called on, but my luck ran out yesterday in the class with my most intimidating professor. I knew I would be called on when he started going down my row, so of course for the 10 minutes before, my cold and sweaty hands could not type and my foggy brain could not concentrate on anything other than my impending humiliation. However, I luckily got an easy question (one the professor had warned us about no less) and I managed to say something that evidently made at least a shred of sense because he told me I got it right and moved on. I anticipate a nightmare speaking-in-class scenario somewhere in my future, but I avoided it for one more day ...

The same professor took a poll of my class (about 110 students) that showed some interesting information about the people at my school:

• 23 described themselves as "somewhat" or "very" conservative
• Only 1 viewed the country as "clearly headed in the right direction," while 86 found it "clearly" or "somewhat" headed in the wrong direction
• 107 expect their grade point average to be at least a B this semester (too bad they grade on a curve and this will be highly unlikely to occur!)
• 52 believe a woman should have a right to abortion in "all or almost all" situations
• If the 2008 presidential election were held today, 43 would vote for Barack Obama, 27 would vote for Hillary Clinton, 8 would vote for John McCain and 8 would vote for Mitt Romney. (No one else received more than 6 votes.)

So I expect to have some interesting discussions over the next three years ...

Hugging Can Be Hazardous ...

I consider law school a success already, in that it has now provided me with a semi-legitimate reason to avoid my least favorite social practice: superfluous hugging. Now, before people start calling me a misanthrope, let me clarify. I like hugging in some varieties: the I-am-dating-you variety (and my mom breathes a sigh of relief), the you-are-closely-related-to-me variety (another sigh of relief from my mom) and the we-are-really-good-friends variety. What I do not like (and basically avoid if at all possible) are those other types of hugging that happen so often: the we-only-met-two-hours-ago-but-I-paid-for-your-dinner variety and the we-once-spoke-to-each-other-in-high-school variety, to name just two of the many, many examples. Well, in my torts class today, we read a case about a man who gave a "friendly, unsolicited hug" to a rather shy person. This jovial fellow just wanted to be friendly, I am sure. But this seemingly harmless little hug injured the poor girl's face and caused it to be paralyzed on one side. Yes. I am not lying. You can look up the case yourself: Spivey v. Battaglia. I feel so vindicated ...

Shortbread Fingers And Digestives ...

I survived my first real week of law school! Hooray! I must say, I have never, in my entire nerd existence, studied more than I did in the last seven days. When I say I did nothing but eat, sleep, study, and go to school for the first three days of the week, I am seriously not exaggerating. But I think I see the light now.

And speaking of seeing the light, I am currently reading cases about a few people who have seen the light (and gone towards it) in an entirely different way (this one being the way where they end up not among the living). This week alone I learned that cannibalism cannot be tolerated in jolly old England, but that the queen (the old one, not the current one) sometimes pardoned cannibals anyway. (I knew I loved that country for a reason! And I have another reason below.) I also learned that a persuasive ruling can convince me that one particular murderer should only be given probation instead of her original 10-year sentence. (In my defense, I think she killed the girl in what she believed to be self defense. But still.)

Along with murders, I am reading about many other unpleasant events, too. As I typed up my summary of one case last night, I had to include words that I am embarrassed to say made me embarrassed to type. (OK, we know I embarrass VERY easily. But still.) This could pose a problem. What if a professor calls on me to discuss one of these uncomfortable cases? To prepare for just that situation, I am now compiling my favorite euphemisms. Thanks to my professor, who used this in class today, I have chosen my first one: "reproductive behavior."

Now, finally, to my other reason for loving England: food (no surprise there). Happily for me, a store right across the street sells the British treats I love best, so I can now purchase them anytime I have a bad day, a good day, or just a Friday. Shortbread fingers! Digestives! And Haribo peachies (the good triangular kind) ...

"Oh Tree, I Feel Sick"

I take a break from ranting about rain and forlorn study spaces to mention some choice gems from the day. First, I am happy to report, we have clouds but no rain so far today. (At least not when I had a glimpse of a window. Which quite honestly has not been all that much. But I only care about rain when I am in it. Which I am currently not.) Next, I have discovered a lovely study space. I am not going to reveal where, just in case I have an Internet stalker who also happens to attend my school. But I feel much better about the state of school thanks to said study table. Now to the title. I am not sick, and I have no friends or family members named Tree. But one man did feel sick, quite suddenly, while driving a vehicle. He turned to his wife, named Tree. (Actually Teresa. Tree is a nickname. But that does not matter.) He said, "Oh Tree, I feel sick." Then he fainted and crashed the car. Then the two women in the backseat (one of whom had never even driven a car, by the way) sued him because they flew out of the car and became injured. Then the judge ruled on the case. Then my professor made us read it. And now I will give my three (actually I think I now have five) blog readers a chance to experience A Law School Class:

Wise Professor: What happened in this case? Tell me the facts.
Student: We can skip this part. I just typed it above.
Wise Professor: OK then smarty pants (actually I have met no self-respecting law professor who would say that. I embellished the story a bit to add some flavor) then what do you think of this case? Should the defendant be held liable in this case?
Student: I am not sure. The defendant did cause an injury to those two women who do not drive. I feel bad for them, since they will suffer the consequences of the injuries they received at no fault of their own.
Wise Professor: So the man who fainted, through no fault of his own, should be liable?
Student: No. I don't know.
Wise Professor: OK, I will give you another example. If someone reads your blog and laughs so uncontrollably that he falls from his chair and injures himself, should you be held liable?
Student: No ...

And now you see why I should really be studying instead of blogging ...

I Need A Better Umbrella ...

Disclaimer: This post sounds like a really long complaint. For the record, I actually really like school so far. But normal occurrences do not make for interesting tales, so I am posting the more interesting elements of the day so far ...

So Day Two of law school and I am already drenched, literally and figuratively. First, the weather: rainy. Very rainy. Then the humidity: very humid. (I think 90 percent. Or maybe higher. Or maybe in the rain it reaches 100 percent. I am not sure about that.) Then, my red umbrella: small and slightly broken. It basically works, but every so often one side dips and trickles all the water down on me, my backpack, and my new shoes (Keds, and very comfy ones at that). Then the sweat factor. When a person walks in the rain as fast as possible in an attempt to get out of the rain, all while carrying a slightly faulty umbrella, a really heavy backpack, a lunch sack, a sweatshirt and a purse, that person becomes really really sweaty. I made it to class on time (actually, 10 minutes early, though basically the entire class got there at least 11 minutes early, so on time seems relative) though thoroughly soaked. And then class starts and the sea of assignments and cases just keeps swelling ...

My First Day ...

Well, I just survived my first class. Not such a frightening experience, actually. I really like the professor, especially because he does not "cold call" people. Other professors evidently just randomly and Socratic-ly call on poor innocent students (the one in my next class, I fear) but this one gives a bit of warning. Anyway, I am now "studying" (I have my computer on and my book open, so there) in a study room somewhere in the law school ... though I really have no idea how I got here and where I should go from here to make it to my next class. I must say this study room does leave a bit to be desired. It smells like Italian food and stale fabric, and the carpet could really use a vacuum. I left the door slightly open, too, since I am not sure about the protocol around here. I mean, can I shut the door and keep the room and its 10 chairs all to myself, just me, my enormous backpack and my Target sack lunch (peanut butter and jelly sandwich, with pretzels and an apple)? Or must I appear friendly and social, and keep the door wide open for whoever happens to seek out this corner of the school? I am just not sure ...

Home Sweet Home ...

I really like my new apartment. Since the previous tenants owned cat(s), the apartment complex repainted, put in new carpet, and made it feel practically new. (Luckily, I have discovered no signs of cat life here. I only know about the cats because our neighbors told me. They evidently really like this place, too. They have lived here for 42 years.) I love the leafy view out our windows, which makes me feel less like I live in the land of cement. My roommate and I have had a grand time settling in, but now that we have homework, our home decorating days have passed. Anyway, I think our apartment now looks the way it will look for the next year ... with the exception that in the photos I am posting here, we had not yet acquired mass quantities of books and papers. So imagine the desks overflowing with those lovely items and that makes these photos quite accurate ...

A Real Law Student Now ...

According to George Washington, I am now an official law student. I have a student ID card, a student number, a locker ... more on that later, a class schedule and homework. Yes, barely eight hours into school (actually, eight hours into orientation ... classes do not start until Monday) I have homework. And I know I am a real law student because I am already avoiding that homework. Instead of reading the two cases I am supposed to be reading, I am blogging and watching the West Wing and planning what I am going to eat for dinner. (Caesar salad, I believe, with the pre-cooked chicken strips that make my life easier these days. I really miss the George Foreman grill.) Now back to the locker. I have one, and I even have a locker partner, luckily my roommate. And why do I need a locker? To store my $776.13 worth of law school books. YES. I spent nearly $800 on my books, which I cannot even carry. So I put half of them in my locker, and then carried the other half home in a conveniently awkward blue plastic crate. My arms still hurt from the experience, which could explain how I am justifying my current lack of studying. I plan to keep following my old rule for as long as possible: Only do one unpleasant task per day. Today, that task would definitely be carrying the really heavy crate the two blocks from the bookstore to my locker, the three blocks to the Metro, the three escalators to and from the Metro, and the three blocks from the Metro to the apartment. Ouch. I must say, a very helpful 2L guy did carry my crate for one of those blocks. But my arms still hurt ...

Library of Congress ...

Today being the last Monday (well, for a while) that I can actually enjoy books, instead of seeing them as a torture device, which I anticipate will happen quite soon, I made a visit to my favorite library: The Library of Congress. I really love all libraries, but this one in particular. I love the amazing ceiling and walls, many of them yellow, with their inscriptions of the names of famous authors and great statements about books and writing. And with the Capitol across the street and the Supreme Court right next door, the location could not be better. I have not found a photo to do the library justice, so I am not posting one. Instead I am posting a photo of the adorable orchids I received today ...

A Lady Writing ...

"Flower Beds in Holland," Van Gogh

"The Houses of Parliament, Sunset," Monet

Today I broke from my new daily ritual of sleeping in until 9 a.m., lounging around until noon and then going to Target/IKEA/Bed, Bath & Beyond to spend more money on things that may or may not be vital to my new existence. So of course I did not give up the sleeping in or lounging around (we all know how much I enjoy wearing my pajamas for as long as possible), but instead of going to the store, I went to the Mall with a Capital M. Yes. I went to the National Gallery of Art. Now, I have been there a few times, and I have been to many other art museums (well, not that many, but the main ones in London, Paris, New York ...) and I know that I do not love art museums and appreciate them the way some people do. This time I wanted it to be different. I even read a book about the history of art before I moved here in a valiant attempt to love art museums. Now, I do not hate art museums. I actually like them. I can just only take them in small doses. (I get overwhelmed with so much standing and realizing that while I like the painting I am staring at, I do not know nearly enough to properly appreciate it.) Today's dose consisted of first, a trip to the museum cafe. If I am going to have a chance at appreciating art, it will NOT be with a growling stomach. Then I just went to a few sections of the museum, the ones I knew I would like (thanks to my book). I only lasted about an hour (including the eating, I am afraid) but I managed to choose three favorite pieces of art. I have pasted two of them above ... obviously, I went to the French section of the museum ... but my real favorite I could not find a postcard of to scan and post. So I will describe it. It is a Vermeer called "A Lady Writing" and it depicts a woman wearing a yellow coat of sorts writing at a table. Unfortunately, the lady looked quite ugly, but I liked her all the same ...

Hang It All And Save The Wall ...

When I wake up tomorrow morning, I will have slept in my new apartment for an entire week. And finally, after seven days of moving stuff, buying stuff, and hanging stuff, I see the end of worrying about stuff, at least the physical kind, for now. So in honor of my new roommate, a former math teacher, I will sum up my latest experiences and expenditures in numbers:

Miles traveled to reach new apartment: About 2,500 (I think ... )

Steps hauling stuff from car to new apartment: About two bazillion

Trips to Target in the last 7 days: 3

Trips to IKEA in the last 7 days: 2

Trips to Bed, Bath & Beyond in the last 7 days: 4

Number of times we have called maintenance: 3 (They respond well, fyi)

Number of Command strips purchased in the last 7 days: At least 26

Which brings me to the title of this post. Thanks to my brilliant sister and those scientists at 3M, Command strips now hang eight pictures, six metal curtain rod hooks and two plastic hooks in my apartment. Seriously! OK, so the six metal curtain rod hooks actually have some other support, too, but that story would take too long to tell. But I am definitely converted to Command. If this law school thing does not work out, I might just paste this post in my resume and beg the people at Command strip central for a PR job ...

Thank You, Zions Bank ...

OK, after only one week of blogging (actually, not even one week) I gave in and made it viewable to the entire universe. But this does NOT mean I want to be linked to the other blogs I read. As someone who spends WAY too much time investigating online details about other people, I still would really rather stay as anonymous as possible. I blame working at a bank for my phobia of all things security, identity, and Internet related. While I can thank the bank for the creation of the fabulous Callee Alley, and for making me learn how to make videos, check my credit report, and use the track changes feature on Word, those radio scripts I spent hours writing contained lots of scary statistics that made me want to cower in a corner, not open my life to the world. However, in an effort to make this blog readable to the people bored at work and those who do not have a gmail account, here goes nothing ...

Take Me Out To The Ball Game ...

People who really know my quirks know that I feel quite patriotic when I go to a baseball game. (Though anyone who has accompanied me to a game can attest that I actually like the idea of baseball more than the actual game.) Anyway, if the Salt Lake Bees can inspire such patriotic feelings, imagine my elation at going to a baseball game in Washington, D.C.! And then imagine that I ate a hot dog at said game. Yes, on Friday, we went to a Washington Nationals game, my first foray into professional baseball watching. Of course, I enjoyed eating the hot dog much more than I enjoyed watching the game ...