Notes from 20,000 feet

And so ends another semester, in ways both similar and different than others. As usual, I was in a rush to get packed and out of the house to make my flight. The 5 or so inches of snow that dumped on A2 the night before I left didn’t help the errands and such which required me to move the car. I especially appreciated the snowplow that came along just as I had parked at a meter by the law school when J and I went to get him packed up. It was awesome. And by “awesome” I of course mean that I had just been thinking how much I wanted a blockade of snow to fence in my car. Whatev, that’s what Subarus are for.

Also in keeping with my own academic tradition, I end this semester feeling like I didn’t work hard enough/smart enough all semester and paid for it during exams (although unlike undergrad, this experience of paying for it involved three exams on which my entire grade for each class was based…a little different than the litany of shitty papers I wrote in varying reality-defying speeds). And of course, I have a plan to do more next semester. I think this plan will actually work, though, since I have a better idea of what I’m doing and my schedule will allow a more structured work format.

Unlike previous semesters, though, I just came off two weeks of working inordinately hard, and I’m totally ready for two weeks of doing sweet fuckall at my parents houses. I only hope the weather is nice enough in at least one place for me to get some running in. Since I’m a law-school-is-hard-and-time-consuming slacker, I’ve totally backed off any serious training plan recently…which is too bad since I’ll actually be in Houston for their half-marathon. Bleh. Maybe next year.

Also unlike previous semesters, I left a markedly tidy domicile behind, thanks to help from the ever-patient and less-organizationally-challenged-than-me J. We didn't get to the last round of dishes, but a whole lot of straightening went on before, during, and after packing. And, you know, it was really good to have him there to point out that I should, actually, rinse off my toothbrush after dropping it in the cats' dish. I cut myself slack on that one only by pointing out that it had at that point been two days since his last final and only one since mine.

So the other night I was studying for Contracts, and for reasons that escape me I was hyper as all get out. To wit: in the middle of a read/check email/print notes fugue, I stopped and thought “I wonder what Levar Burton is up to these days?”

Currently listening to: The Be Good Tanyas, Dar Williams (thanks to AK for both!), the birthday mix I made my mom.

(Wait, what is this, LiveJournal? Am I that twee? Gah.)

Contracts give me hives

Contracts exam's a'comin'. Comin' at me like a runaway bus. There's a whole lot of learning to be done before 8am Wednesday. Gah.

I do love, though, that I just got another goddamn email from UT-Austin...telling me that they've received my FAFSA application but that they can't tell me anything about financial aid just yet because I haven't been accepted. Okay, for the zillionth time: I DON'T WANT TO GO TO UT. AT ALL. Also, I beg to differ about the "haven't been accepted" detail. I was, in fact, accepted. I just didn't take them up on their offer. There's a difference. Gah, it's like being dumped, then calling the person who dumped you and telling him/her you're not sure if you want to go out with them but you're really glad they asked and you'll sure keep thinking about it. UT? I dumped you. Stop calling.

If you're in need of excellent women's sportswear (or missed my birthday and want to send me something fab! Right.), check out Title 9 Sports. I ordered a few things with a gift certificate from the aforementioned bday, and they came today. Hoodie splendor! Running tights! Sleek pants that make me look like a Pilates instructor! Hooray!

Fine. Fine. Back to my contracts notes. Oh, how's this for totally wrong: I have the song "Cheer up Charlie" from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory stuck in my head.

Bad/Good

Bad
It is fucking cold here.
My Christmas shopping is nowhere near done.
My Contracts exam is on Wednesday and I'm so unprepared it's tragic.

Good
There are cinnamon rolls in my kitchen.
I have an interview next month for a (paying!) summer job in H-town.

No more homicide

It's a good thing the majority of the people who read this are in some sort of professional school, as I don't feel bad for falling deep into finals neglect. Finals is as Finals does....but man, I'll be glad to get on a plane next Thursday and leave it all behind to be graded.

Crim was yesterday, and I can now say I know substantially more about homicide charges and their various defenses than anyone would consider normal in polite society. Unfortunately, now that I know all of that so very well, it's time to move on to Property. Thank heavens for commercial outlines...I mean really. All that faff I had at the beginning of the semester? About not needing commercial study aids? Yeah, fuck that noise. Gilbert is my Property Hero, and Emanuel is my Contracts Captain. I love you guys...don't ever leave me.

After the Crim exam yesterday, J took me flying in a 4-seater plane out of the Ann Arbor Municipal Airport. We were originally supposed to go on my birthday, as a birthday surprise (fly to another airport like Cleveland or Cherry Capitol, get lunch, fly back), but the weather here was crapnasty as all get out. Yesterday, it was cold but beautiful, so we took off after our exams were over and flew north until we hit weather, then came back. It was really, really awesome. Decidedly less scary than I thought it would be....really, hardly at all. A2 is very beautiful on the ground, but even moreso from the sky. It was a truly wonderful birthday surprise.

Back to Mr. Gilbert and his slick Property stylings. Man, what I wouldn't give for a 10-day run of Aderol right now.

Endings, beginnings, and agings

Today was the last day of classes for us--first semester is officially over except for exams. One could argue, of course, that this means we're actually quite a ways from being done. Fine, fine, but there's still something kind of simultaneously weird and cool about the end of classes. Like, I just got uesd to the idea of it being November, and here we are done? Crazy.

The professors put varying levels of energy into and emphasis into their closing words. All three were good in their own way--though the cake was definitely taken by our contracts prof, who not only couched his little speech in terms of "two confessions and three apologies," but concluded with a momentously fabulous reading of a poem that's based on one of the cases we read this semester. It brought down the house. We applauded at the end of each final class, a tradition that always makes me choke up for reasons I can't explain. I think it's the same thing that makes me cry at Home Depot commercials.

So now we start reading period. There's so much to be done in the next 12 days, I refuse to contemplate it as a whole. I'm invoking all the energy of Bill Murray in What About Bob?, as he babystepped his way out of neurosis. Babysteps...through mens rea. Babysteps...across the Model Penal Code. Babysteps...to the fridge. Ack. Maybe less of that.

And, as always happens during reading period, today marks the 25th anniversary of my mom's weary conclusion of 5 days of active labor with yours truly.

Dear Salle...it's not you, it's us

You may recall that I sent out a bunch of resumes and cover letters on Saturday in an attempt to get a job for next summer. I sent them out Saturday. Today is Wednesday. Count those days. Counted? Okay.

I got three ding letters today! I'm not rattled by the fact that they're dings--paying summer jobs are scarce for the first summer--but I'm a little bit amazed that I can give the letters to the mailman at a little after 5pm on Saturday and have dings by 6pm Wednesday. That, my friends, is efficient turnaround time.

I dig the letter from Jaffe, Raitt, Heuer & Weiss, who assure me they gave my application careful attention. Heh...I can tell.

Inside scoop

Three things they don't tell you about Ann Arbor:

1) There are a lot of skunks. During the warm months, there's a totally bizarre issue with skunks that get hit by cars and smell up your street. I'm not kidding...happens often enough that I stopped considering it out of place by, like, the second week of September.

2) There is fog that makes one feel as though walking around with either cataracts or a painless migraine. Weird, eerie.

3) Parking violations are the single most important police matter. Truly, someone could be hacking a nun in half with a saw, and the first thing the cops would check upon their arrival to the scene would be whether the perpetrator's car was parked in an expired meter. If someone were to try to break into my house, I have a feeling my call to 911 would go something like:
Me: there's a guy trying to break into my house.
911 Operator: Did he arrive in a vehicle?
Me: Yes...?
911 Op: Can you see how far it is from the curb? Is it blocking the sidewalk?

Lookee, lookee

In the past 36 hours I have:

1) Been an unwilling participant in a rousing round of Waltzes of Stupid at the local Kinko's.
2) Hid Max in his carrier in the bedroom while the landlord showed my apartment to a prospective future tenant, hoping like hell Max wouldn't protest audibly while they were here.
3) Printed and assembled 45 cover letters and resumes for summer job apps
4) Come full circle in deciding regular size 10 envelopes were fine, changed my mind to thinking large envelopes that would allow the resume and letter to lay flat were better, and reverted back to size 10 since I had already applied the postage.
4, b) Mailed 45 cover letters and resumes for summer jobs
5) Stressed
6) Napped in response to the stress
7) Decided my life absolutely, positively could not continue in its current, printerless state.
8) Trekked to Best Buy to purchase a printer from Jodie Foster's younger, heavier alter-ego.
9) Decided I like apple pie again and purchased one, to be consumed in t-30 minutes
10) Wasted about a minute of your time with this list.

Carry on.