Conflicts Exam

I took my first exam today: Conflict of Law with Prof. S. I was fairly concerned about the test going in, but it wasn't as bad as I had imagined. Why do I make such a conclusion? Well...

1) It was a 3 hour test. I managed to find the time to take 2 bathroom breaks, make a coffee run, and knit a scarf. And I still had 2 hours left.

2) One of the three questions involved the exact ramification of Rosenthal & Seidel that I had suggested to Prof. S. at his apartment two nights prior over a medium-bodied Pinot Noir.

3) Two of my fellow classmates started bawling part way through the test, another vomited, still another died.

4) Three law reviews called me this afternoon wanting to know if they could publish my test in their upcoming editions. I'm in the midst of the bidding war right now. Although a lifetime subscription to the California Law Review would be nice, I think I prefer the idea of a statute entitled "Anticontradiction at work" standing in front of the main Pepperdine law building.

5) My professor called me this evening and asked me if I would impregnate his daughter. I told him I'd consider it.

Religion

Yesterday, I received a copy of the "Dianetics & Scientology Holiday Catalog" in the mail. Fantastic. The most expensive thing in the catalog is "The Ultimate Gift: A Mark Super VII Quantum (tm) E-Meter (R)". It is apparently "The E-Meter that will take you to Full OT". All for only $3720.00. Whatta deal.

I have to be a little bit impressed, though. Especially in this day and age, I think it would be kind of hard to start a religion that people would actually want to stick with. I mean, I just don't think that I have the messianic bent required. I was chatting with my friend J earlier, and I realized that all I could offer to attract people to the priestesshood, for example, would be

(1) the ability to worship me [and really, being a trendsetter is difficult],
(2) eternal salvation [questionable, I mean hey, it's a new religion],
(3) discounted white robes [I don't care if you look better in black],
(4) the possibility of a smallish splinter sect
(5) maybe dental. And limited vision coverage.

Well, that's what I got. If you're interested, let me know.

To vitiate my reputation...

Here I was, thinking I had a nice vocabulary. I thought the word "vitiate" meant support. But it doesn't. It means to contradict, to undermine.

What does this mean? I typed the following to my professor/local judge about my seminar paper.

"Unfortunately, analyzing the structure of the guidelines and
exposing just a few conclusions took a lot of space and time -- my
paper is right at 35 pages. Much of the bulk of the pages is taken
by illustrative charts and equations, which necessarily vitiate
many of my points."

He writes back, addressing the bulk of my email, but comments near the end:

"Finally, unless you are intentionally joking, I don't think you know the
meaning of the word "vitiated."

See you tonight."

I felt dumb.

Ebay: the perfect place for Christmas Gifts

A Supreme Court case came out yesterday. The problem in San Diego v. Roe began when the San Diego police department found a police uniform being sold on Ebay. The uniform was being sold by codestud3@aol.com. Anyhow, to figure out who codestud3 was, they queried what else the mysterious pseduonym was selling on Ebay. Turns out codestud3 was selling amateur videos on the adult site -- he would do a sort of striptease in a police outfit, and then masturbate for the camera. Grrrreat. And they recognize him--he's an officer in the San Diego Police Department. They fire him. The police officer sued, arguing that he was getting fired for his constitutionally protected activity.

My favorite line from the case: "In reponse to a request by an undercover officer, Roe produced a custom video. It showed Roe, again in police uniform, issuing a traffic citation but revoking it after undoing the uniform and masturbating."

Anyway, what's odd is that this case changes my entire analysis in my paper for my Church & State class. I didn't see a masturbating/police/ebay case affecting my teachers/prayer/schools analysis, but what can you do.

Caught Myself

I had an 8am makeup class this morning. Expectedly, I had a difficult time waking up and getting out of bed at 7:30am. As my head swam through my morning routine, I became worried that I'd forget something--wallet, cell phone, something. Convinced that I had everything, I left.

As I walked through SIPA, however, I suddenly had the feeling that I left my glasses at home. I wouldn't be able to see for class. I freaked out. Then I realized, wait, they're on your face. Hm.

Creativity

So. I'm in a seminar--Church&State. Friday I participate in a round-robin critique of my paper. [It's a less-than-fascinating ditty about the free speech rights of public school teachers.] Anyhow. Somehow, I consider all these direct "critiques" more as "attacks", without knowing it, I think my fight-or-flight mechanism started to read its ugly head [yet, somehow, it still possessed a terrible beauty. Alright. So it didn't.]

The discussion begins to heat up. I begin to get defensive. And then I let the word "paradigmatical" slip out. Is that a word? I feel like this is my especial defense. If I can't beat them with logic, make up words, and just let them do the talking. Or something like that.

Oh, and I discovered last night, again, that there's really not many things less depressing than sobering up on the subway. Yuk.

Slander

Thanksgiving. Yesterday. M's place, sitcom style. Six friends, two related, although we didn't quite mirror the 3/3 Friends gender ratio. Still, M's an amazing cook, the food was fantastic, a fun time was had by all. I even made everyone watch the Apprentice [and some of "Glutton Wars", where we saw five enormous dudes (one dressed as a gladiator?) try to devour a twelve-pound cow tongue as quickly as possible. Amazing television.]

True to sitcom form, later in the evening, we had a special appearance by M's ebullient mother. Seriously, this woman was hilarious. Just an outgoing, very friendly mom-type. Grandmotherly, even. Someone you'd like to please.

Anyhow, at this point, the seven of us gathered in the living room for cider and conversation. Because we had already played "What are you thankful for?" at the dinner table [over vociferous dissent, I might add; fortunately, I ruled the dinner table conversation with a iron fist], I decided that it was high time to suggest another game. I suggested a game that I knew that M did not like, namely, "let's all say nice things about each other." Yes, the game entails exactly what it sounds like. Yes, the game is inane and boring. Yes, the only reason I suggested it is because M does not like it.

Predictably, M said that she did not want to play this game. So, I prodded, I poked. "Why don't you want to play the game, M? Do you have a hard time thinking of nice things to say about people here?" Completely provoked, she hollers back "NO! It's because the last time we played this game, it was to make up for the fact that you had called me a FAT, DIRTY WHORE!"

Naturally, gentle readers, I do not remember making such a comment. I posit that perhaps the comment made more sense in the context in which it was spoken. But still, wow. Her grandmotherly mom was a little taken aback, but, albeit, not as much as I would expect. Perhaps she, too, had endured fat-dirty-whoreish comments in her day.

But, I will admit, I was embarassed. Never again will I slander so. Well, at least, I won't slander M so. On Thanksgiving. Or ever.

Triggers/Jumps

I'm sitting in a seedy van, hired to take four Manhattanites back from a fantastic Brooklyn Thanksgiving. My friend E brought her high-school-aged sister to Thanksgiving, as well. Talking with her a bit, I get the idea that she's never been to New York before.

Trigger:

My brother. My law school move in was his first trip to New York. He was a little bewildered--small town Texas/New York--definitely a switch. I honestly don't know whether he enjoyed it or not, but at least it was an experience. I had to lead him around the city, which was really the blind leading the blind--two short trips didn't make me much of a New York expert.

Jump:

But now I do know my way about the city. It's odd. Three years ago, I'm clueless about the place, and now I really know my way around it. It's not faceless, it's not nameless, I know lots of people. Great people. Heck, people I can spend a Thanksgiving with.

Trigger:

That's because it's home. How did that happen?

Jump:

But I'm leaving it. Soon. Forever, most likely. Short visits don't count.

Jump:

Am I stupid? Am I wrong to leave something this great? I mean, nothing's perfect, but I have a network, I can find a job, I could be happy here. Am I throwing away my last three years?

[At this point, we're passing over some bridge to Manhattan. A beautiful view of the Lower Manhattan skyline is available from the left passenger-side window.]

Trigger:

Wow. Gorgeous.

Jump:

Yeah, it looks great, it looks fantastic, but I don't know that city, I just live there. I don't appreciate it. It's lost on me. Big buildings, flashy life, that's not me. It's would seem almost inconsistent for me to stay here.

Jump:

Do I feel the need to justify my decision to go to Texas? If so, is this weak reasoning is all I've got? The justification just doesn't hold any weight.

Jump:

Somehow, despite this, it'll still hold. I'll go. Because somehow it's right. Who said life makes sense?