I was leaving my apartment building this morning when I saw a man run across the street. He clutched a soda and started shouting at me:
Sodaman: “Hey, can you hold the door for me?”
Me: “Uh, sure.
Sodaman: “Thanks. I live in apartment #45…just don’t want the police to come and…”
I think that thing they call spring is here.
The grass started turning green a month ago, but the trees have remained leafless – until this week. Sometime overnight all the trees decided to blossom.
It’s as if the mayor pressed some secret spring button.1
I feel like I’m in some parallel Paula Dean Garden universe. I got so used to winter that I forgot that there are other seasons…
Harley and I spent the week exploring the extensive park system in the neighborhood. The amount of parks, lakes, and nature trails surrounding downtown is ridiculous.
I suspect I moved back to Germany and no one has told me yet, especially when I look at the Fachwerk houses in the neighborhood:
I need to stop bringing coffee on these walks. The same thing happens every time: I start the walk with a cup of coffee and when we are 4 or 5 miles from home I realize “oh shit, I need to pee.”
This is of course the point when Harley gets tired and is all, “wait, why are we rushing all of the sudden?”
He then decides that every tree, squirrel, and gardener is worth inspection.
My bladder starts crying…and disaster strikes.2
And don’t be fooled by the “Minnesota Nice” stereotype – even Minnesotans will give you filthy looks when you’re raging down the street, screaming “GOD DAMN DA COFF-FAAAY!!!” while grabbing your crotch and dragging a 100lb dog…
There have been plenty of times this week when I’ve wanted to scream upon getting home. Harley has started trashing the apartment.
I tweeted about the destruction and was directed by @Karpul to this article on the Humane Society Website. The topic? Dog Separation Anxiety. The gist? He’s destroying the apartment because he misses me and loves me.
Now before you say “awe” remember I am not seeing love when I’m cleaning up shredded novels marinating in puddles of piss.
No. That ain’t love.
And of course the article says scolding the dog will ONLY MAKE IT WORSE!
Well… crap!
You mean I come home to a destroyed, pee-soaked apartment and I can’t bitch at anyone? This is supremely unfair.
And the most ridiculous thing is that Harley didn’t start this chaos until recently. I guess that means he didn’t like me enough before…
In order to help him adjust, I decided to study at Dunn Brothers today. I left Harley a pork bone and hoped for the best. Of course he completely demolished the kitchen – broke dishes, dragged the trash everywhere, and then pissed all over the front door.
And no, he did not need to pee – we had gone on a two hour walk this morning. Minneapolis is perfumed with this dog’s pee. It was pure spite…or according to the humane society, yellow love…
One redeeming thing about Harley is his “don’t mess with me or I’ll eat you” size. He even keeps Mel away.
However, Harley’s size did fail to keep the crazy away this week – we were walking in Uptown (on Lyndale) when I saw this sketchtastic guy sitting at a bus stop across the street.
He was bald, pasty-white, emaciated, and had no eye brows ala Alexander Litvinenko (or Powder) and of course STARING RIGHT AT ME.
So I smiled politely and directed Harley down the street. Of course a few blocks later I see that powder had crossed the street and was storming down the sidewalk right behind us! I have seen waaay too many zombie movies for this to be okay. Seriously, this guy looked like the last day of chemo…or day 28…
So I took a sharp turn and literally RAN down the block as much as I could before he made it to the corner. What the hay…
The sprint worked, but I ran into the creep at another bus stop on Hennepin. He glared at me from across the street. I wondered if Harley would catch whatever that guy had if Harley decided to eat him…
In addition to running from zombies and cleaning up pee, I took my first final exam this week. The subject was Property, and it was not as horrible as everyone expected. My only grief is that there were NO future interests/estates problems! Not a single one!
All that time spent on learning the vesting categories? A waste.
The $20 I spent on the supplemental future interest book? An utter waste…especially since I barely looked at the book…
Tomorrow is my Criminal Law Final, and Friday is Corporations. Crimlaw is strangely pleasant to study…which is odd given how incredibly dull that class was…
I’ve also spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about “what kind of law I want to practice” and decided that it’s a silly question. I am not so limited in my interests that I wouldn’t be perfectly content practicing in most fields. I know that seems sacrilegious to say, but I don’t think I’m the only person who likes law enough to be happy in most fields…
Heck, I think most students at my school would be open to most areas of law. And most of us feel silly when lawyers (and parents, and friends) ask us what field we want to practice in, since the first year of law school gives us no clue of what private practice is actually like.3
There are a few former Business School kids and future public defenders who know exactly what they want to do (to the exclusion of all other opportunities) but most of us have no idea…
The real question is what type of firm will hire me? I love my school, but I’m aware of its limitations. UMN is reputable enough that nearly everyone will pass the bar, but not so prestigious that everyone will have a job upon graduation.
I have decided that the answer is not to claw my way into the top 5% since even biglaw has its problems.
The point (for me at least) isn’t to get a prestigious job just because that’s what everyone else is doing. My goal is to have a career that allows me to do challenging work and pay off my student loans before I’m 40.
…oh, and a job that allows me to afford dog training…since I’m sick of this yellow love business.
1 I’m pretty sure it’s between the “easy” button and the Taco Bell button.
2 And I can’t tie him up and run into a coffee shop or something because I always feel like a horrible dog owner doing that… plus I’m sure there’s some sort of ordinance against that.
3 I think that’s why next year’s 1Ls will be required to take a “work of the lawyer” course.
Stella and I went to the clubhouse this weekend and got sat on by a 400 pound Cher!
Pictures (and video!) of the hilarity after the jump. NOTE: not school/work appropriate.
Jamie and I had the opportunity to observe a very public, very awful first-date at the Freighthouse.
Here are the best quotes:
400-pound-man: “I got home and the Antique Roadshow was on, so of course I watched it until 6am!”
400-pound-man: “And I woke up the next day and was like: “WHO WAS THAT LITTLE GREEN GUY DRIVING THE CAR AND WHO CRAPPED ON MY LAWN!?”
Jamie grabs my laptop, opens MS Word and writes:
Jamie: This guy doesn’t shut up. I feel sorry for this girl. So far it has been determined- by me- that he is a drunk and trying too hard. I think she has completed three full sentences and one was about her coming home from work on Friday and having a bottle of wine.
Jamie (quoting the guy): “It’s not like I am a drunk, I am a social person that likes to have fun.” Definitely a first date- and if either of them had any standards it would be the last. He is so not self-monitoring.
Me (typing): And you thought the mall-cop was bad…
Me (typing): But seriously, they aren’t THAT entertaining to make up for what you’re losing in productivity…
Jamie (typing): Though the legal lady and these two are definitely making it all worthwhile!
How to tell when your significant other thinks you blog too much:
Jamie: “Are you going to blog about how I made you go on an awkward double date with two of my ex’s that I’m trying to hook up?”
(two hours later)
Jamie: “You’re going to blog about this aren’t you?”
(at the end of the night)
Jamie: “DONT BLOG ABOUT THIS!”
(right now, as he’s reading this over my shoulder)
Jamie: “I THOUGHT YOU WEREN’T GOING TO BLOG ABOUT THIS!”
…blog about what dear?
I went to Frank’s Hotdogs last night and had a chat with the owner (?) she’s a middle aged lady with several kids:
Owner: “So where ya from?”
Me: “I moved from Miami this past August.”
Owner: “OH MY GOD! You poor thing! You must think we’re crazy to live out here in this cold!”
Me: “Oh, it’s not that bad. It’s all about dressing appropriately…”
And then I wake up this morning and check the weather…
And the horror continued as I scrolled down the page…
…um.
Now there are SEVERAL problems with this.
Problem #1: The “feels like” temperature for today is -30.
I cannot fathom. Seriously. I cannot… but, I will have to because I have a torts final in an hour.
Problem #2: “Dangerous” wind chill of -40.
How fast is this wind blowing? 20, or maybe 30mph. I walk to school. Over the Mississippi. On this long-ass bridge:
Problem #3: (and this is the kicker) for tomorrow the high is -18. The description says, “bitterly cold.”
Dear weather channel.com: you’ve set me back a full 10 minutes because I have wrap my mind around this fuckery.
If -18 is bitterly cold…what the heck do you call today’s “feels like” -30?
They haven’t come up with a word have they? You sent Timmy the Intern outside to feel the -30 and he never came back! Timmy, I have your back. I’ll never forget!
Now there is a positive to all of this: I’m so preoccupied with being offended at the weather (and the weather channel.com!) that the final is not even a remote concern.
Whenever I get sick of outlining, my torts book shoots me a jewel like this:
“On the other hand there are other kinds of medical malpractice, as where a sponge is left in the plaintiff’s abdomen after an operation, where no expert is needed to tell the jury that such events do not usually occur in the absence negligence.”
Muhaha. I love it…
Anyhoot, almost done!
Rush v. Commercial Realty Co. is an example of why I love law school: I just finished having a laughing fit at the Wilde Roast Café.
And yes, I cried.
The case for the plaintiffs was that they were tenants of the defendant, which controlled the house wherein they lived and also the adjoining house, and provided a detached privy (outhouse/toilet) for the use of both houses; that Mrs. Rush having occasion to use this privy, went into it and fell through the floor, or through some sort of trap door therein, descended about nine feet into the accumulation at the bottom, and had to be extricated by use of a ladder.
Now, it turns out that Mrs. Rush didn’t actually fall through the toilet. That’s how I read it the first time – and believe me the visual was pure hilarity. It appears Mrs. Rush fell through the floor of the outhouse, not the actual potty.
And the judge blamed the property owner, because:
In dealing with these, it should be observed that Mrs. Rush had no choice, when impelled by the calls of nature, but to use the facilities placed at her disposal by the landlord, to wit, a privy with a trap door in the floor, poorly maintained.
Mrs. Rush wins. Whether or not the fall was the only accident that happened is unclear.
* Rush v. Commercial Realty Co., 145 A. 476 (N.J. Sup. Ct. 1929)
I don’t really believe in Karma, but let’s call it that anyway: last night was a study in schadenfreude. I watched B. Scott’s commentary video on “Scarlet Takes a Tumble” about four times. I showed it to housemates. We laughed. I was on the floor crying with laughter at one point. Yes it was that serious…
“Scarlet Takes a Tumble” is the new viral-video-of-the-moment. It features an overweight girl singing. Scarlet gets up, put some heels on, and stands on a coffee table.
And then, of course, one-two-three WHAM! She falls. It’s hilarious. It is. Actually, it’s not as funny as B. Scott’s commentary video. Watch it. You’ll understand.
So, the little Karma Buddha in the sky, (or in Wisconsin, however this thing works…) took note. Karma Buddha saw me on the ground laughing at Scarlet and her misfortune, and he said, “Beyotch, I shall smite thine ass.”
Today I got my comeuppance: I’m cycling back to school after eating lunch at home. I’m biking on the sidewalk and approach 10th avenue. There is a church-like-thing on the corner with an extremely high yard that comes down to meet the sidewalk. The yard of the church is so high that it obscures the 10th avenue sidewalk, so I couldn’t see the easel for Burrito Loco (a local restaurant), which was in the MIDDLE of the sidewalk, right around the corner…
I see the easel. I brake. My tires slip on the leaves and then catch. I fly over my bicycle and PANCAKE ON THE GROUND, VAM! and my bike crashes on top of me…
A biker across the street comes over, “Oh my god! Are you alright!?”
I mumble something and scramble to save my coffee tumbler from rolling into the street. I then thank the biker for his concern and try to find my water bottle, which flew somewhere…
I finally find my water bottle when another biker with wild red hair comes up. “Dude! That was the COOLEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN!”
“Why thank you,” I said. At least someone thought impromptu flight lesson was que badass. I then booked it across the bridge to torts.
So dear Karma Buddha, dear KB, or B-town, or whatever you’re called. I get it. Nice one. But Scarlet’s tumble is still hilarious.
My housemate and I are trying to study Torts at the Freighthouse.
But we can’t. There’s a piano in the second floor seating area, which I thought was for decoration…
…but about 15 minutes ago this couple began playing, very poorly.
(out of tune piano rattling)
My housemate: “OH MY GOD! These people are SO annoying!”
Voice from downstairs: “NO MORE PIANO!”
(snickers from downstairs)
(piano stops. The players stare at each other.)
Housemate: Thank god!
Me: (laughing and clapping)
(piano starts again)
Housemate: (moans) “I’m offended. I’ve been offended for the last ten minutes.”
Me: (laughing)
One of the baristas comes up from downstairs.
Barista (to the piano players): “I’m sorry. While this is, uh, really good music and all…I think you might have forgotten that there are other people in this café who …um… may not to care to hear your music. So please stop. Thanks.”
PWNED! Haha!
Now back to Torts…
*****
Later, while getting a refill:
Me: “Hey, were you the one who told them to stop?”
Barista: “Yes…”
Me: “Thank you! You’re my hero.”
Barista: “You’re the fourth person who has come down and told me that. You guys make me feel like less like an evil person.”
Housemate: “Yeah, some people just need a little nudge to realize that the world doesn’t love them and everything they do.”
Professor T: “Let’s say they are all standing around Siliznoff chanting “DRILL BABY DRILL!!” while holding drills in their hands…”
Professor T: “A heart attack can ruin your day.”
Professor T: “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been sued by former students because I’ve grilled them for eight successive days in a row…do they have a cause of action?”
Student: “No, because they signed up for it.”
Professor T: “And I’m grateful for that! They volunteered for being abused by me!”
Professor T (on the ALI): “Can these professors do that? Collude to create new law?”
Student: “That’s what common law is all about!”
Professor T: “What, COLLUSION?”
Student: “Yeah he’s liable! When you go into a store you don’t expect to be emotionally harassed, aside from one of those Boston Fish stores...”
Student: “There’s a difference between saying to someone in your group of friends, “dude you’re a retard” and actually going up to a retard and saying “dude you’re a retard.”
Class: (collective gasp).
Student: “Every sporting event has outrageous conduct – Like at a Packers game! If outrageous conduct was a tort then every Packers fan at the stadium would be sued!”
Professor T: “I want to go right up to the line of being outrageous without stepping over that line. I want to exercise my full right of outrageousness without being sued.”
Professor C: “You’re still not getting where I want you to go. So I’m going to tell you where I want you to go and then you can repeat after me.”
10 minutes into my conversation with WestLaw’s help line:
Me: “OH, you know, I just realized why this is so hard for me to find. I’m supposed to be looking at the Restatement of Contracts, not the UCC!”
Westlaw Help Tech: (cackling)
Me: “HEY! I’m a 1L. This is my defense. Mess ups like this are my life right now.”
Westlaw Help Tech: “No, no, no” (snort) “I completely understand, ahaha.”
The library became annoying around 8am so I walked to my ConLaw class (which starts at 9am.)
There was already someone in the room when I arrived, so I felt less like “that kid who arrives an hour early” and more like, “one of those kids who arrive an hour early.”
Since I was in the wrong room yesterday, I asked the student, “This the correct room for Con Law right?”
It’s 7am and I’m vacuuming the keyhole of my front door.
A neighbor walks by and avoids eye contact, for surely, I must have caught the crazy.
Yeah. I’m that guy.
But let me take a step back (as a certain prof would say) and talk about Wednesday.
Wednesday I had four classes. I arrived at the law school around 6:30am and read until my 8am legal writing class.
Our legal writing sections are in classes of 10 or so students. Each legal writing class is taught by a practicing lawyer and a 2 or 3L .
They brought bagels and it was awesome.
Contracts, Civil Procedure, and Torts followed.
Civil Procedure seems like a crucial course, but it also appears significantly more technical than any of my other courses. CivPro will be a challenge, but my professor uses powerpoints that make things infinitely clearer.
My classes ended around 3:30pm. I biked home and went to bed around 4pm.
Today I woke up around 2am, ate, and then went to the law library. I arrived around 3am.
The library was absolutely abandoned, and amazing. No flip flops smacking, panicked students whispering, or 3Ls glaring.
Around 6:30am biked back across the river to take a break at home.
When I got home I unlocked the door, walked the bike in, and then took my key out of the door…or rather, half of my key…
My key broke in the door.
Half of the key was stuck inside, and I attempted to get it out for about 40 minutes. Knives, paperclips, vacuums… nothing worked.
So, in defeat, I call a locksmith. They tell me that they’ll show up at 8:30.
Con Law was at 9:05.
After a quick expletive or four I decided to email my professor.
“Hi, I’m Jansen, and I can’t come to our first class today because I’m a space cadet who is unable to unlock his own front door without assistance.”
Well, I didn’t actually write that, but that was the gist of the letter.
Then, around 8:30 one of my housemates, a 2L, comes down. I told her of my key dilemma. She tells me that she’s going to study downstairs until 10:30 and didn’t mind waiting around for the key guy – aka, she completely saved my ass from missing the first day of Con Law.
I get to school, sit in the wrong room (the schedule they handed out at orientation had the wrong room number), but I eventually found Conlaw. And of course I had to walk up to the teacher before class, “Hi… I’m that klutz, please disregard that email.”
In class we discussed the DC gun ban and two of my classmates and I continued the discussion after class.
I then went to Contracts early and wondered, along with six other people, where the hell everyone else was.
Hm. Mandatory Lexis Nexis training maybe?
This is what we learned after the class poured in. Oops.
CivPro then Torts, then the grocery store for food and flowers for my attendance-saving housemate.
Some RNC on TV and now, back to bed. This is all.
This morning I was excited. It was 5:30am, I had my MP3 player and UCard in hand, and on my way to the gym.
I had a plan: Two hours at the gym, then shower, and then skip over to the law school for my first day of class.
So, now it’s 5:40am. Ten minutes later. The excitement is still palpable. I have my MP3 player in hand and I’m going to the gym. Almost there.
And then I stop – where the hell is my Ucard?
I managed to lose my student ID within a few blocks of leaving my house.
After a several colorful utterances and about 20 minutes of walking around like a deranged person – looking for the card that somehow slipped out of my hand – I gave up.
I went home, changed, and then went to the law school.
So I’m standing before the library before I realize that I don’t have access because, dum, dum, da… I lost my Ucard.
So I throw my books back into my locker and march across the half-condemned Washington Avenue bridge to the student union. I arrived 15 minutes before the Ucard office opened and was sixth in line.
Butch Ucard Lady: This your first card?
Me: No, I lost my old one this morning. I’m starting the semester off with a bang!
She glares.
Twenty minutes later I’m back in the now-packed library. Immediately before class it got to the uncomfortable level where people used short bookshelves as standing laptop tables. There was also a steady soundtrack of flip-flop smacks and messenger bags banging-against-butts. Shuffle Shuffle SMACK SMACK.
And of course, the 2 and 3L’s catching up. “HEY HOW WAS YOUR SUMMER?”
So, the first class was Contracts. I sat in the 2nd row, closest to the teacher. There are two reasons for this: 1, I don’t care if the instructor is seizing on the floor, if someone in front of me is playing games on their laptops I will be thoroughly distracted.
And 2, the instructor kept walking slightly behind my chair and could see my screen. Unauthorized use of the internet (IMing, surfing, etc.) is a honor code violation that I’m highly unlikely to do when the instructor is glancing at my screen every three minutes. Self policing. Besides, I wouldn’t want to be distracting-prick-dude to the people behind me by playing on the laptop.
The class was fine. The professor’s line of questioning seemed tangential at times, but it always brought up new, interesting hypothetical situations. Some of us stayed to ask the professor questions. Yay.
Stella and I had lunch at this nearby campus eatery. Beef tenderloin entrée and a drink for $9. Yes.
$9 is still impractical for a daily lunch, but I’ll tackle that next week.
Stella went to her international student orientation and I went back to the library.
My second and last class of the day was Torts. My torts professor is witty but challenged those he called on less than the contracts professor.
He also gave semi-mean hypos. “You there, student, what if I punched you in the nose?”
But he did it with a smile, so we forgave him. We had a seating chart in that class, which I’m less thrilled about because I’m behind too many laptops. I found, though, at the laptops are small enough to be covered by the owner’s back.
Since all 200+ first years were in the library after class, I decided to go to the gym…since I couldn’t this morning.
And this was a bad idea.
It took my gym partner and I over an hour to get to the gym (mutual meandering). By the time we got there it was peak time and all of the cardio equipment had to be reserved for 30minute blocks. Getting on anything was an ordeal. The weight machines and free weights were equally congested.
I did leg weights while trying my best to ignore ridiculous looking overweight-black guy doing arm curls on a resistance machine while perched on a gym ball.
He made a “I FEEL THE BURN FACE” and dramatic huff with every curl.
There was also Intense Asian lady who looked like she was screaming (the facial movement but no sound) with every weight pump. It looked like she was excising demons or reliving a painful birthing experience.
After carefully avoiding eye contact at the weight machines I underwent the process to receive my cardio machine ration.
The whole experience was special.
I also decided in the locker room that it was time to get a bike. Why? Because unlike my undergrad gym, which had shower stalls, this gym has one big honking room of nudity.
Hells-the-nah.
So I need to get a bike to efficiently go between my house and the gym since I only make private shower appearances.
After the gym ordeal I went home, but I decided that instead of showering, I should just go directly to Target. I would bike home, and get sweaty anyway.
This was, of course, another bad idea.
The temperature had already dropped to around 65. And the bus took so long that Stella managed to shower, pack, and walk past me before it came.
Great.
I get on the bus, cold yet funky, and all the seats have at least one person. So I sit on the very edge of this seat. The girl could tell I was embarrassed to play Mr. Public Transit BodyOdor.
The bus takes me downtown to Target, which is surrounded by cop cars, an ambulance, and a fire truck.
Great.
I walked past the cars and the scene at the cash register where about a dozen officials crowded around a woman on the floor. I had no time to watch the police drama – I needed a bike.
And, since today was a very special day, it took over an hour to buy a bike. First, there was no price on the bike I wanted. The first Target lady, who spoke English – just not coherently – got Sassy Pregnant Target lady, who called Smells like Nicotine (SLN).
Mr. SLN scanned the bike. It’s 89.99. I ask him why it’s $90 when the ones next to it are $270 and $160.
SLN: “Brand mostly.”
Me: “Those aren’t exactly Gucci.”
SLN: “Schwinn is the Gucci of bicycles.”
Then random creepy decrepit dude shows up and becomes personally invested in my bicycle purchase. Apparently he’s an expert and therefore gives his opinion on brands of bicycles to locks.
Random Creepy Decrepit Dude: That bike lock is sort of cheesy.
Me: Well, I’m a law student. It’s time I look the part.
My choice of lock offended Mr. Decrepit enough that he flung his hands in the air and walked off.
Now of course there was a missing part for the bicycle seat. Mr. SLN radios it in and the warehouse guys must have been smoking something severe to give the response they did… it takes 10 minutes to get a new bike from “the back.”
And of course the tires need air. Add 10 more minutes.
Guy filling up my tires: “Oh, and it’s illegal to drive at night without lights on the bike. We don’t sell those by the way.”
Great.
It wasn’t completely dark when I left Target, but close. It was also colder.
It hadn’t occurred to me that I hadn’t had a bike in oh, 9 years, until I was outside with my new $198 Schwinn. I wondered for a second if I forgot how to ride…
And in downtown Minneapolis the bike lanes are in the middle of the road. It was a fun trip home.
After FINALLY showering I went to the local bike store and bought reflectors, which took me 15 minutes to put on the bike because I’m a space cadet.
I finally arrived at the law school around 9pm and found out that my new Ucard doesn’t work for the law building. I convinced another student that I wasn’t a local crazy and he let me in.
My card, bizarrely, works for the law library, just not the building that the library is in.
I finished my contracts homework quickly. Book briefing. Yay.
I then biked to McDonalds and read most of the legal writing assignment.
Because of the extraordinary waste of time today, I will spend my breaks tomorrow playing catch up (really, starting off with a bang eh?) and then, after class, I will sleep, sleep, till I can’t sleep no more so that Friday can go as scheduled.
Night!
Yar! So, my first real day of law school homework is over. I did the assignment for my contracts class, which consisted of three parts: reading the syllabus, and two reading assignments.
The first reading assignment was a brief history of Anglo-American contract law. It read exactly like a history text for undergrad. Good. I was a history major. I like these things.
The second part of the reading involved Mutual Assent and Consideration, and a case Ray v. Eurice Brothers, which was hilarious.
Basically, Ray was a seriously OCD engineer who wanted to build a house. Ray had very specific requirements for exactly what material and building method was to be used.
The Eurice Brothers were two easy-going local builders.
They met, drew up plans, which Ray and his attorney changed to meet Ray’s OCD-whims.
Ray presented the new set of plans in a contract with the Eurice Brothers, including the cost of the building project. The Eurice Brothers signed ASSUMING the plans & specifications were those from the first meeting.
And of course, they were wrong. The Bros realize this a month later, and say “These requirements are ridiculous! We aren’t building this house with this crazy-talk! We thought we signed up for something else!”
So Ray sues.
And the judge says, “you could have intended anything, but you signed a contract that says this. So thou art the weakest link, goodbye.”
I was laughing throughout the case. Pure hilarity. I love it.
I hope tomorrow’s work (Torts!) is as fun.
OH, and part of my gitty mood as to do with my new haircut – I went to Target today and bought a cheap pair of clippers. I shaved my head and gave myself a ridiculous trucker mustache.
Yes. I did.
It’s goofy and makes people laugh. It’s impossible to be a depressed law student while sporting such an obviously ridiculous stache.
Think Jack Black in Margot at the Wedding.
Tomorrow: Briefing and Torts.
I’ll write about the rest of orientation later, probably tomorrow, but first, some quick hilarity from the past few days:
First, at Starbucks:
Me: “May I have a venti passion iced-tea unsweeted please?”
Starbucks girl: Sure!
Old guy next to me (blank stare): You speak Starbucks! What the hell did you order?
Then, today I ordered a latte at Caribou, a Starbucks competitor. The Caribou guy makes my latte, grimaces, and then takes it to an electronic scale.
Caribou guy #2 comes out and asks what the problem is.
Caribou guy #1: How much is a large latte supposed to weigh?
Me (to myself, in shock): You are not serious.
Caribou guy #2: Let’s look at the chart!
#2 pulls out a complete index of the proper weights of beverages and Caribou guys begin a deep discussion on the proper weight of a latte. After a few minutes Caribou guy #1 exclaims that he HAS to remake my latte.
Caribou guy #1: This is unacceptable. I have to redo this.
Me: Really, it’s not that serious.
Caribou guy #1: It’s the WRONG WEIGHT! This is more of a cappuccino than a latte!
Me: Erm… I’m still shocked that you guys actually weigh your drinks.
Caribou guy #1: Yes! Of course! And it’s the WRONG weight! This has TOO MUCH FROTH! It’s waaay more a cappuccino than a latte!
Me: Uh, what’s the difference exactly?
Caribou guy #1: A cappuccino has more foam and less milk. It’s slightly more bitter too.
Me: It’s not that serious. I’m fine with the drink you made, SERIOUSLY do not make another one.
This would not do. He scooped out the foam and added more milk. He almost weighed the drink again but I shot a strategic “don’t you DARE” look.
Caribou guy #1: It’s still too much of a cappuccino.
Me (tasting the drink): This is how Starbucks makes them.
Caribou guy #1 actually GASPS, and shouts: BUT STARBUCKS SUCKS!
I did a full, wide eyed wtf-look. There was a split second of pure, unpasteurized awkward, and then I told him to have a good day. Yikes.
And the final bit of hilarity also happened today, when I called my mother.
Me (in German): Hey mom, how are you?
Madre (in English, with shouts in the background): IT SMELLS LIKE SHIT!
Me: W-What?
Madre: IT SMELLS LIKE SHIT HERE! OH MY GOD!
Me: Like, it smells bad? Or does it literally smell like feces?
Madre: POOP! IT SMELLS LIKE SHIT! My neighbor started scrubbing but it’s not quick enough…OH MY GOD IT SMELLS LIKE SHIT! The whole apartment building is out here cleaning! The entire back balcony smells like shit! I think I know who it is too…this lady from downstairs has a cat and it probably got sick or something … (more shouts in the background) I HAVE TO GO!
Click.
While that was a new one… madre DOES still live in Miami. Updates on Poop-Spill 2008 later.
I knew Minnesota was cheaper than Miami but dang – the portions are ridiculous here. I went to the Pagoda pan-Asian restaurant and ordered this $8.99 dish. And erm…. Yeah. That’s too much food. It doesn’t look like a lot but that plate is like 10×10 inches of nothing but meat. PETA would flip.
Another thing that’s killing me is the drink specials. The drinks are about $2 cheaper than in Miami and there always seems to be a 2-4-1 or 3-4-1 special going on. My problem is that I’m not a huge drinker, and at some clubs they don’t give you a ticket… they just hand you two beers.
There’s no graceful way to doublefist beer at the clubhouse. You’ll look like you have issues every time.
So the result of the Minnesota portion problem is that I’m always lugging around a to-go box.
And yes, there’s one sitting on my coffee table as I’m typing this.
The University is only about two miles from downtown so I’ve spent a lot of time roaming and playing tourist. I love the sculptures that are all over downtown.
These guys are my favorite. It’s like the bird turds have come to life and decided to garden!
So apparently the Mary Tyler Moore Show was based here… as a kid I assumed all city shows took place in NYC. Oops!
Moving to Minneapolis a month early was a good idea. I’m meeting my housemates sort of one-by-one as they move in instead of in a huge group a few days before school starts. I also get to explore at a relaxed (and random) pace –“Oh let’s see where this bus goes to!”
One thing that has been on the to-do list is City Hall.
City Hall!
Stained glass windows in City Hall
I was a history major as an undergrad and I’m a huge sucker for historic buildings. City hall didn’t disappoint – a highlight was the heroic statue in the middle of the lobby.
“Father of Waters” by Larkin Goldsmith Mead
The downtown Barnes & Noble has become my downtown hangout spot. It has window seats facing Nicollet Avenue – the people watching is amazing. Today however, the entertainment was inside,
Lady sitting behind me (to her friend): Our new couch is AMAZING. This must be the best time in our marriage because we must have tried seven different positions last night – the sex has never been better!
Umm… maybe they’ll name the baby Ikea?
Other snippets:
And I realize my posts are incoherent/in snippet format. Things will shape up once I get out of my wide-eyed tourist mode.
My first weekend in Minneapolis was a lesson in Krawall & Remmidemmi, but I think I have my bearings…well, sort of. Here are some snippets:
Me: Hello, do you know where can I get my student ID?
Minnesota Girl: YodelYodel GurbleGarble Yodel Gardel!
Me: Uh… Pardon me?
Minnesota Girl (slower): Yooou go ooova der and YodelYodel left Garbel Gurble dontcha know?!
Me (thoroughly confused): Okay thanks!
Look Mommy! It’s America Sized!”
The stone arch bridge!
I went to Mall of America today. I’m pretty sure it’s the biggest mall in the country. It’s so honkin’ big that it has a theme park INSIDE. Why do we do things like this?
So yeah, things are geil! More later. OH, and by the way…I found out that my neighborhood DOESN’T have a legit grocery store… just two Gas-Station-Mart-esqe things…hmmf!
I ate lunch outside today.
The campus squirrels chased eachother so intensely that they jumped on my table and then scurried across my bench.
They circled my table and then came back around and crashed head-on into my pantleg.
After the chaos calmed down I fed both of them.
I ended up leaving after a sickly (rotting) looking squirrel approached my table and wouldn’t go away. It completely sketched me out because its fur was patchy and part of his jaw was gone. (I lost the picture as part of a server change…remind me, I may be able to find it somewhere…)
It wouldn’t shoo…so I left before I got attacked.
