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I keep meaning to post, but nothing has really inspired me. Little things happen though. For example, in a class the other day the professor asked, “Who here has a class immediately after this one?” A few students raised their hands, and he sighed before begrudgingly conceding, “Alright, I will try my best to honor the 6:20 end time.” That totally set me off (in my head), because, dude, I may not have a class after this, but I’m freaking leaving when it’s over. Well, no I’m not. Not really, and that’s the problem. Like, if you’re still talking and stuff, I’m not insolent enough to just get up and peace out, but technically I should be allowed to because your allotted time is over. And anyway, I’ll stop listening to anything you say, and just be screaming at you inside my head, “FUCKING END CLASS ASSHOLE!” and be picturing choking you and be sending bad juju your way. So really just stop.


I think I’ve finally created as close to a perfect law school semester as possible. A mixture of practicums, small easy seminar, and lecture that leads to the most learning with the least work. If I could go back now, well if I could do that I would just not go to law school, but if I could only go back as far as the beginning of law school I’d only take externships, clinics, and practicums to whatever extent possible. You know, so I could actually *learn* something. I wish I could tell past me to drop all of those completely useless “bar” courses. Especially Evidence. Fuck Evidence.


In unrelated news, making out is just the best. It’s one of the great tragedies of growing up that people stop doing the whole hour-long make-out sessions thing and just skip to the “adult” stuff. I blame men for this one.


In other unrelated to law school, but related to making-out news, I’m having a hard time concentrating on anything lately because I’ve decided I’m soulmates with a guy I’ve never really met. We’re friends on FB somehow – probably vestiges of some drunken party – and from stalking I’ve determined that we’re totally perfect for each other. It’s distracting, but I’m too self-conscious to actually speak to him. One time, he asked me a question, and I was so befuddled by his beauty no words came out of my mouth. I just stared. It’s all very “My So-Called Life.”

I apologize for this post. It’s really about nothing, which is to say, my life.