I get a text from Alejandro:
Alejandro: “I’m in hotlanta for a while and for some reason it makes me think of you.”
Me: “I’m glad I’m associated with class and elegance.”
Alejandro: “More like ‘slightly less trashy black people with money’ I think. Like Nene from real Housewives!”
Great.
Alesus told me that he had never been to a Denny’s. I was scandalized and informed him that we were going to a Denny’s that very moment. It is now one of our favorite restaurant chains.
Why do I have a passion for this restaurant chain? Well! First off, Denny’s does its part to help promote awareness of county ordinances by posting them at the cash register:
You won’t see this kind of civic involvement at Chino Latinos!
The lady working at the Brooklyn Park Denny’s cash register is also hilarious. One week she saw us and said, “Y’all back?! Our food good ain’t it?”
Yes it is, Keke. Yes, it, is.
Keke only refers to Alesus as “beautiful.” This creates a considerable amount of confusion in the lobby.
Also, when waiting for seating, there’s often a religious coloring book for your Tiny Tots for Christ:
The politeness of Denny’s managers isn’t constraint by spelling conventions:
And, possibly the best thing ever (people watching aside) is the toy-grab machine:
I see this box everywhere, but I took the picture at Hark market in Whittier:
That cover makes me laugh every time.
Oh public schools.
Last year the grad students marched about student fees, and this year there is more of a general tuition protest. There are angry fliers, people pounding on drums, yelling. General pissyness.
I went to a super-pricey private university, so I’m unsympathetic. My theory is this:
On a full scholarship. I passed up big, but less than full-ride scholarships at Georgetown and NYU because I knew that I needed even more aid and that I would probably go into debt for law/grad school afterward. The point here is that there are many options and no one is entitled to a certain fee or tuition level.
You can’t even get a public sector job with your fancy degree? Well, higher education in obscure or unprofitable fields is a luxury, not a right. If you major in something like early modern Peruvian art history (or law) you can’t demand that the state pay for it via reduced tuition.
My schedule is a disaster.
I scheduled afternoon classes so I could exercise and work in the mornings. That plan feels ridiculous now.
The problem is that my professors love scheduling and re-scheduling things for the 12:15-1pm time slot, which makes the 30 minute drive to the office not worth it if I wake up after 7am. (Which happens a lot.)
I also underestimated the amount and type of work I signed up for. Sure, I only have 12 credits, but my schedule is beholden to weekly assignments and “special projects.” I am constantly in the library cursing the decrepit computers and lack of staples.
The odd weekday schedule meant that my weekend consisted of marathon days at work. I’d walk the dogs, spend 8-10 hours at work, come back, walk the dogs, and veg out on trashy reality TV. Hardly the relaxed 3L schedule I imagined.
Despite the odd schedule, I still made time to make an appearance at Lush bar with a gaggle of law students, and I also attended Classafrass, the drag show at the Townhouse bar:
Some weirdness went down at that show – one of the drag queens who looks like Tila Tequila decided to perform Madonna’s “Erotic.” Tila’s performance was… well, true to the song.
And then comes a barefoot old man with the old-man shakes. Tila makes him part of the show. It’s unspeakably awkward. Pictures after the jump.
I listen to Pandora at work, and I’m pretty good at ignoring the advertisments, but this Glee photoshop disaster caught my eye.
Click the image for a closer view of this messitude:
Law school orientation dominated the past week.
I was an orientation leader and spent the majority of my week convincing 1Ls that they can survive their first year of law school without being crazy. I also squeezed in some hours at the office, a movie, and even went to the Minnesota State Fair with Alesus.
It was my first time at the fair. I went primarily because the state fair is the only place I can buy Shoe MGK cleaner for my tacky white Aldo shoes. I also wanted to try camel on a stick.
Apparently the camel-sellers left the fair early, but I managed to buy the shoe cleaner, which was a life changing experience.
The Minnesota State Fair was surprisingly fun and great people watching.
There were cows:
Crowds:
Fancy kiosks with enormous light bills:
“You got served” style dance-offs:
Today was a slightly shorter day of orientation. The 1Ls are still good troopers, but it was a personally frustrating day for some orientation leaders because we were constantly undermined by presenters:
On homework:
Orientation Leaders: “You’ll get your assignments on Friday, don’t worry about them now.”
10 minutes later:
Professor: “Read pages 1-5, 7-20, 30-36. Read EVERY WORD of the first case. It’s mostly Latin…”
On Professors:
1L: “I read on Rate My Professor that Professor Palsgraff is a horrible person who can’t teach and tortures bunnies. Is that true?!”
Orientation Leaders: “Well, everyone has different learning styles and everyone’s favorite professor is someone else’s least favorite. And although Professor Palsgraff may not be the most energetic speaker, she is at the top of her field, dedicated to her students, and surely only kicks the bunnies who deserve it.”
10 minutes later:
Student Speaker: “Oh and I heard you had Palsgraff for one of your classes! HAH! Lemme tell ya – you won’t learn SQUAT from Palsgraff, she’s a horrible teacher and wrings bunnies’ necks till the light leaves their eyes…”
The second day of orientation was epic. The 1Ls shuffled in at 8am, and left for the bar across the street around 5.
One of the most important things that happened today was the introduction to legal writing. Look at all those gleaming packets of knowledge:
Snazzy.
While the 1Ls were in hours (and hours) of sessions, I worked on less glamorous projects like stacking chairs:
This was awesome:
And this the bumper sticker:
The last time I received a note on my car, it was literally ON my car.
Today was the second day of orientation training. Orientation starts tomorrow, and I’ll be posted at the front doors greeting the new 1Ls at 7:30am.
And I think I’m getting sick. Bahumbug.
The most amusing part of orientation training is that we have to febreeze the classrooms:
The guy in the stall next to me is one of those theatrical public restroom users who is overly-loud about everything he does.
My loud neighbor gets up, kicks the toilet handle with a little “Hi-Yah!” and then barges out of the stall.
I got an email a few days ago from my school:
UMN: “Hay! We received your FAFSA but you totally need to do entrance counseling for your loan. NO CRUSHING DEBT MONEY FOR YOU UNTIL YOU DO THIS!
Get on it, Snickerdoodle.
Toodles.”
So I moseyed down to the Department of Education website and completed their entrance counseling. This is the first time I’ve had to do entrance counseling, which is a series of pages that say “Hey, you really need to repay your loan or we’ll shank you!” followed by short questionnaires:
It feels like everyone started school already, but the University of Minnesota law school starts after labor day, so I still have a week left of summer.
I only have one week of summer left because orientation leader training starts this Friday and I will spend the entire first week of September encouraging the new 1Ls to be less awkward around each other. I think we call that mingling.
So while the other law students figure out how to read cases, stress about employment, and even represent themselves in court, you can find me at the lake.
And I know it makes for dull reading and summary posts, but it is a lot of fun.
My time is spent working, listening to MPR, walking the krakens, biking, and watching trashy TV shows online with Alesus… you know, that “relaxation” thing that they beat out of us 1L year sometime between Contracts and Torts.
Oh, and there’s the occasional night out with drag show fabulousness:
So one of my neighbors used a bungee cord to hold up his bumper for the longest time. Now the bumper is riding inside the car:
I’m at Dunn Brothers and trying hard to not laugh. Minneapolis cafes are prime territory for awkward conversations, and this is precious.
I am sitting near a middle aged man who is a caricature of a slimy Hollywood producer – facelift, all black clothes, tasseled shoes, bluetooth in ear, and a really glossy facelift.
Hair plugs’ victim is a cute, 20-something year old girl.
