20 November

 
I am reclaiming my cat.

However lurid that sounds from a post-feminist standpoint, it's a literal statement. My little Synaesthesia Jones is coming home to roost with me, and it took a boring lecture to push me to make that decision. Sitting in a lecture without a laptop taught me a few important lessons:

1) I miss being able to know the weather in Des Moines at my whim.
2) You can't play solitaire with a pad and pen, no matter how honest you think you're being.
3) When you're dedicated to not paying attention, those things you've been repressing for months (because you're too burnt out to think about them) come creeping back up to the surface like melted Crisco in a gumbo.

I started thinking a couple of days ago about how, in lonely times and in flush ones, my little cat has been such a comfort to me. There's nothing like curling up for bed with a little fur ball of unconditional love. Syn's been at my ex's since I started law school for various reasons, and, although I have a lovely relationship with my ex, I'm ready to pull away one more tie. Thus, Synaesthesia Jones is coming to live with me again. Non-cat lovers won't quite grasp the joy in this.
 
Republican bubbles and drugs!

18 November

 
New Prisoner of Azkaban Teaser! I'm happier than a bag of hair!
 
Finger Stuck In Pay Phone - Bush? Nazi?! Nah...

17 November

 
The Socratic Method. The bane of every first year law student. For the uninitiated, there is very little volunteering in law school classes. The professor will pose a question, pick a student at random, and grill said student with factual, hypothetical and policy questions until she is satisfied.

The first couple of times I was called on, I was about as scared as I've ever been in my life. I started shaking, my mouth dried up, and I forgot what I said the minute the professor moved on, simply relieved that I was off the hook. The whole process can lead you to think, and, in some ways, seems designed to make you think, that you're the stupidest stupid-head that's ever been stupid. I spent about a month feeling as though I was the dumbest person in my class, which was very depressing and humiliating and lonely. It's what I imagine boot camp to be like. Thank goodness the feeling was only temporary.

In your first year of law school, you make a lot of stupid jokes about whether the hug you just gave was battery, and whether you can void your lease for unconscionability. No one else finds these jokes funny. After about the fifth time you tell your loved ones how inutterably hard your life has become, they roll their eyes and mention starving children. You develop a very jaded attitude about the collective intelligence of humanity. You are, above everything else, tired and saturated. But there's something underneath it all that's very exciting, like you're being let in on the Great Secrets of the World. Like you can do some good with all of this. Maybe change the world for the better.

Vote Quimby.

16 November

 
It's my first time. Be gentle with me.
Hi. I'm Maura, also known as Groundhog. I'll be your guest blogger for the week. I'm a new law student, reformed programmer, and Sarcasmo's ex-boss (as well, I suspect, as the ex-boss of several of you readers).

One of the most interesting things to me about law school is the integration of technology and learning. On my first go around, you were bleeding edge if you had a Brother word processor. Nowadays, we all have laptops and wireless internet in the classrooms. It's remarkable. It's also remarkable how many of my colleagues use this technology to fritter away the class period playing Solitaire or Risk, or IMing each other. My laptop, Buttafuoco, has died on me. I'm waiting somewhat patiently for a replacement chassis, and am taking notes by hand in classes. My wrist is sore and I'm generally cranky, especially since finals are coming up and I may have to hand write those as well. Ahh, technology: beer hat of the masses.

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