SO MUCH FAIL

In a nice change pace regarding my normal blog post topic of unemployment, today I feel the need to rant about my hatred of and bad luck with technology.

Yes...today I spilled an entire mug of chai all over my undeserving laptop. I immediately knew what to do. Why? BECAUSE I DID ALMOST THE EXACT SAME FUCKING THING TWO WEEKS AGO.

So now my laptop is in pieces, drying out on my windshield in the sun.

::groan::

Is it Friday yet?

I HATE HATE HATE PACKING

I'm finally moving from my apartment (back into my parents' house until I find a job....fail) and am feverishly packing. I packed for a while during October and the last time I was in town, but left stuff because I didn't know when I would *officially* be moving out. I gave my notice a week or so ago. Then I started packing kinda for real.

Yesterday, my wonderful boyfran and I loaded up my house furniture that I wanted to keep, leaving my bedroom furniture alone (because that shit is new and if we fucked it up, I was going to cut someone). The things I didn't want, we put on the curb. The definition of hysterical? Watching a couple of frat guys claim your old pink particleboard desk. After our first trip, one of my dear friends came over to assist with the bedroom furniture. By seven o'clock p.m. we had moved all my furniture to my storage unit.

This is after actually cleaning up the living room. 

The rest of the house, however, is a joke. There are dustballs everywhere and I woke up this morning barely able to breathe. My dogs also made this trip with me after being MIA for several months (bf was starting to get pissed that he hadn't seen them). Crackers is sullen, having been pulled from outside where she can eat whenever the hell she feels like it and run around doing things that are generally looked down upon in my household. The second dog, Rosy, (who used to be an outside dog) came inside and told me she's never going back outside EVER. Except to pee.

So now I'm alone again, packing up the rest of my shit and wondering if I would actually miss anything if I just were to throw it all away.

I don't think I would.

I assure you this is a lot more shameful in person. 

No...really.

I'd like to rearrange...your face

Things that really bother me while taking final exams:

1) Deep sighing
2) Vibrating phones (turn those bitches OFF)
3) Loud typing--is it necessary to batter your computer?
4) People that leave 40 minutes into exam (and it's three hours long)
5) Going blank (this one's totally on me--fault completely my own)
6) Rustling food bags--open it, get it over with, and for the love of God, please don't smack
7) Tapping and other random bodily twitches
8) People that make a big deal about leaving the room or asking a teacher a question
9) People who are apparently too stupid to quietly pack up their shit to leave

10) AND YOU, MOTHERFUCKER, slurping your goddamn Route 44 drink, WHEN IT'S OBVIOUSLY FUCKING EMPTY. 

I hope you fail....

I hope your girlfriend breaks up with you....

I hope you're diagnosed with a condition that makes it impossible to drink from a fucking straw. 

Law School Exam--A student's imminent domain

Every law student I know has a specific study style, but almost all of them I know do some of the following shit during final exams, and almost certainly has a setup during said exam that looks strikingly similar to the one I've shown below. Allow me to guide you through the preparatory setup of a law school exam.

A:  the last chance at a hot drink before your final begins. At best, your Starbucks is lukewarm, and all the caffeine has rendered your tastebuds nil, but you've somehow convinced yourself that this caramel macchiato is going to give you that boost you need to succeed. (Good luck with that)

B:  your trusty laptop, which is probably on its last legs of life since you've inadvertently spilled yesterday's Starbucks on it. Watch for this awesome machine to suddenly shit out on you in the middle of the exam.

C:  Earplugs. To try to drown out the commotion that the obnoxious fucker (probably you) is probably going to cause during the exam.

D:  some sort of food that not only crunches when you eat it, but that gives off a fucking noxious odor that makes the people around you (whose stomachs and systems are also filled to the breaking point with caffeine) want to simultaneously barf and kill you. You dumbass motherfucker.

E:  5-hour energy. Taken when you start flagging--generally 1/3 of the way in. Need I say more?


F:  the Diet Coke you're going to pop in the middle of the goddamn exam right as I've come up with something brilliant to say. This, of course, will make my mouth water, and also make me lose whatever train of conscious thought I had going.


G:  see D, only this is SUPERSIZED, so you want to make sure to eat it in the middle of the exam and make AS MUCH FUCKING NOISE OPENING THE BAG AS POSSIBLE.

H:  the sole pencil you have for the Scantron whose lead will probably break halfway through filling in the bubbles. You probably even had to bum this off of someone else. Because who uses pencils?

I:   the eraser you've somehow managed to keep since you were a 1L purchasing school supplies. It will be in the bottom of your bookbag, probably covered in some kind of foreign substance.

J:  pens. Because you're almost definitely going to have to write something by hand, even if you don't want to.

K:  six fucking colors of highlighters. Because you're apparently still of the mindset that you should use the highlighting system generally only utilized by first week 1Ls before they decide to stop reading altogether.

L:   the watch you've finally remembered to bring after the last time you got COMPLETELY fucked by the proctor administering the exam.

M: the space reserved for the test that is probably going to make you want to vomit a little bit.

Now, if you look closely at the picture, you'll notice two things enclosed outside of the desk, but no less prevalent in the preparation of a law student for final exams. 

N:  the non-prescribed pills that the law student has been popping for the previous 72 hours prior to the exam. Adderall to pick you up, Ambien to put you down (after the exam, naturally), and God knows what else.
O:  RedBull almost certainly chugged down as if it was the breastmilk obtained from the teat of knowledge....except it's not and it probably isn't going to sit well with the 17+ other types of caffeine you've been swilling for the last umpteen hours.

Moral of the story? No good deed goes unpunished.

I did it. I volunteered and was subsequently elected to run a law school event (hereby coined "LSE"). Said event was to raise money for a good cause, something I constantly thought about as I was organizing said LSE.

Now, for those of you who are not yet familiar with my style, I'm an A personality. I like to meet people. I like to talk to people. I like to be in charge. I also don't mind helping out or delegating, provided things are run in a cohesive manner that doesn't result in my wanting to rip someone's my hair out. For the most part, if something isn't being done properly (or at all), I'd rather just do it myself. It's my nature, and while annoying, it's highly effective (because let's face it--law students aren't exactly the most dependable of people). That being said, if someone is doing their job, then I'm of the mindset to HAVE AT IT.

So....this LSE is technically the pet project of one of the organizations on campus and consists of having to rely upon a shitton of people actually showing up at this event to volunteer. That's strike one, in my opinion. Depending on a group of lawyers and law students to be somewhere to dedicate their time to an altruistic task? UNHEARD OF.

Strike two was the fact that I was working with someone I believe to be Cray-Cray to the Maximus (and by maximus, I mean in my gluteous maximus). My opinion? This crazy coot is out to get me. Fucking great. (And I'm not imagining this shit--we go way back.) Worst part? She acts like she doesn't hate my guts.

So I bust my ass for three weeks, all the while having to deal with backbiting and assholery and general indignities that many would argue are grounds for justifiable homicide. And I take it, because BY GOD, I AM GOING TO DO GOOD FOR CHARITY. I get liquor (since we know that's the main draw). I organize everything. I decorate. I bedazzle.

In short, I rock this goddamn event with every fucking fiber of my fabulous glitter-emoting body.

It was a success, although the event didn't raise nearly as much money as I would have liked (let's just say this--with the hours I put in, I'd have liked a feast thrown in my honor, with a roast beast).

So, where is strike three, you are wondering? Well, friends, that came after the event. When CrayCray scheduled a meeting to discuss the event. The event SHE DIDN'T EVEN FUCKING ATTEND. In all actuality, it was a "Let's Shit on Dr. Juris" meeting. And SHIT THEY DID. Comments like "undermining authority" (when I was in charge, mind you) and "poor time management" (when everything was accomplished and rocked out with its proverbial....well, you know what I mean) were thrown around with great relish. At the end of said meeting, I was told I would have to hand over all my notes and intellectual property associated with the event for next year's planning.

I am waiting for the perfect moment to crush these audacious demands didn't have the heart to tell them I had deleted it all with a thank you Lerd and good riddance.

No really, my heart is three sizes too small.....and I'm pretty sure it's not going to experience a miraculous growth spurt any time soon.

Probably the best email I had with regard to this event was a professor who was helping out: I'll stick to what they gave me and frequently remind myself that it's for a good cause. To which I replied:

That's what I've been doing for the past two weeks. 

Final semester

I don't really have very much to write right now, although I expect all of that to change in the next few days since school is starting. I've got some difficult classes that I may or may not be looking forward to, and am taking a vow to read ALL THE CASES.

I don't know how long that will last, particularly since I don't even have any  all of the books for my classes. I'm also going to use my planner every.single.day. This will happen folks, because I have a B-E-A-utiful planner just begging for my handwriting. I'm also going to attempt to use technology to schedule my life. Since technology hates me, however, I may be better off sticking to handwriting.

Other than that, I've got an excellent schedule, a reasonably clean house, and fun activities in the next few weeks.

And by fun, I mean soul-sucking, legal-related stuff from which I will probably not derive any pleasure.

Sixth semester= sixth circle of Hell. I'd say Dante's description of the Sixth Circle suits the last semester of law school to a tee--"a vast landscape rife with distress and wretched punishment."

Yep. That about sums it up. Distress and punishment.

How wonderfully divine.

Closing arguments--don't try this in court.....

Participated in a closing argument contest recently. Of course, I won nothing....unless you include fodder for future blogs and a future nod in the Karma department to be winning. Considering the level of losing I've been achieving lately, I'm losing faith in the usually-comforting Karma (aka: since I keep losing, surely I'll eventually win at something....right? RIGHT?!?!?!?)

So, in order to supplement your advice on how to lose in a trial competition, let me tell you some of the things that apparently win closing arguments: (and I only wish I were kidding)

1) Do not introduce yourself to the court. EVER. It will then be your fault that they are unsure of the name they should engrave on your winning trophy.

2) Don't ever please the court. Forget tradition. Screw respect. LISTEN TO ME, DAMMIT. I DON'T NEED YOUR PLEASES! If you must do this, I recommend the line "Would it please the court to kiss my ass." 

3) Do not ask that they return a specific verdict. Particularly if you're asking for a verdict of not guilty. You DEFINITELY don't want to ask that your client be freed from prison due to his innocence. Surely not.

4) Sarcasm=winning. The judges LOVE sarcasm. They lap that shit up. I'd even suggest a little Bon Qui Qui head snap and finger jerk to show them some real attitude. 

5) Offending the jury? THAT'S A-OKAY! Especially with regard to money: "The prosecution will assert the defendant killed the victim over a measly two thousand dollars." (I'd slit your throat for a candy bar, but that's neither here nor there.) If you could also possibly throw in a racial epithet somewhere, I'm sure they'd award you a couple of bonus points.

6) Fake some sort of illness or disability. I recommend wearing your arm in a sling. Or perhaps a jaunty eyepatch. 

7) If you are a girl, WEAR YOUR HAIR IN YOUR FACE. Ever so often, play with it. If you are a guy with long hair, I also recommend this. 

8) Lie about your level of learning! (No this did not happen, but I fully advocate telling them you are a 2L rather than 3L, since they are sure to view the aforementioned advice and mistakes as a charming indication of your lack of legal finesse and score you higher because of it.)

Happy Monday, everyone.

And so it begins...

My classes have started piling up. I'm in far too many organizations. And I've signed up for entirely too many competitions.

I have approximately eight clients in my legal clinics. Of these, the ones I want to call do not and the ones I do not want to talk to do....over and over again.

Additionally, I have a job interview coming up in a place I'd really, REALLY like to work (note I said in a place, not a firm). Cover letter is due by noon today.

But on the up side, it's a lovely 51 degrees outside this morning, I got eight full hours of sleep last night, and I'm relatively good-looking.

Maybe I should repeat that in the mirror this morning three times.

Or maybe I should start my day off right....with a shot of tequila.

Happy Thursday, y'all.

::Grumbles under breath:: Can't trust them, THEY ALL LIE

You put yourself out there. Give them a list of your achievements, likes, talents, and abilities. They call you. You meet.

And everything seems to go great. He/she says he/she will call.

So you wait by your phone.

Anxiously.

With bated breath.

Agonizing.

The days tick by....and you realize he/she will NEVER CALL.

And no, I'm not talking about a first date. I'm talking about a job interview.

Conviction-less

I didn't wake up until almost eleven today. I stayed up way too late last night watching Netflix. Then I watched more Netflix.

So after finally finishing the entire first season of Conviction (the spinoff show to Law and Order: SVU), I realize that they ONLY.SHOT.ONE.SEASON. ::this is me, falling to my knees, screaming Stella, only instead of screaming Stella and having raped my wife's sister, I'm screaming Aleeeex and realizing others can only see so many criminals walk before they get tired of a show::

Now, I realize this show had a bit more gratuitous sex than was necessary. And I realize that they were showing the harsh realities of prosecutorial work. And I realize that SVU generally shows the bad guy getting put away.

In reality, a lot of crime is never reported. Of those crimes, only slamdunks are generally brought to trial. Sometimes you have cases of public outrage like the Casey Anthony trial, and you see how that ended up. For the most part, rapists seem to serve about seven years. Even child rapists. Murders often are charged with second degree murder instead of first degree, which (in all actuality) they deserve, and they are eligible for parole after about twenty.

Conviction showed this. And people didn't like that. You want truth?

People can't handle the truth.

Welcome to my life (or: how even oldies are NOT always goldies)

Tonight, I had to prepare some paperwork for an important deadline. This paperwork HAS TO BE IN TOMORROW (with a postmark and everything). It's kinda a BFD. Accordingly, I waited until the last damn minute to do it (procrastination at its finest, y'all). So when I finally decided to get down to it, I realized oh shit....I'm not sure what kind of technology I'll be using (I generally use my own, but since I needed a printer, I'd have to borrow the whole kit and kaboodle). Not a big deal, right? HA.

So I went downstairs, and was greeted by this guy:

While this seems relatively harmless and docile, it's actually a RELIC. Many computers nowadays consist of something like this--except the entirety of the computer is actually contained WITHIN this component, instead of just serving as the screen (which went obsolete about, oh say, ten years ago). Monitors you can deal with, however. I was relieved to turn to the side and see this:

Don't let the windows sticker or USB drives fool you like they did me, though. Those are just for show. In actuality, this computer does NOT have Microsoft Word (or Works, or even Open Office, for those of us too cheap to purchase the real deal). And those USB drives? THEY.DON'T.WORK. I only figured this out, though, after repeatedly trying to access the internet. I might as well have been trying to teach a monkey the theory of relativity (and I would have probably had more success with the monkey). After spending over 45 minutes trying to enter my email and look at my documents in Word while online, I finally gave up and looked for my external hard drive. That's how I found out the awesome window dressings on the front of the tower were just for show. Way to go, HP guys! What a great trick you played on me! (If I could, I would hunt you down and bludgeon you to death. Just so you know.) So after I finally found a USB jack I could effectively plug my external into, I made the mistake of peeking at the printer.

Yep, folks. THAT'S THE ICING ON MY CAKE. Welcome to 1992. After gritting and gnashing my teeth, pulling out some of my hair, cursing every person to ever work at HP (and their nearest blood relatives), and threatening to end.that.tower....I was greeted by the slowest printer ON EARTH.

Seven pages.

Thirty minutes.

And another crack in my sanity.

Pretty sure technology isn't the only thing that hates me.