I Feel Like I'm on a Jungle Safari!

Dear Readers:

I am currently in the same building as one Antonin Scalia.  Soon we will even be in the same library, separated by a mere floor of books.  I'm dressed appropriately to run into a SCOTUS justice of course, as one should be when presented with the opportunity to meet one.  He's also giving a lecture tonight at the Harold Washington library.  A lot of people aren't going, some of them because they don't agree with his opinions.

Neither do I.  Part of my research this semester is on textualism, and Scalia is a very important textualist.  I personally find this doctrine narrow, limiting, and defiant of actual legislative intent.  However, this doesn't mean I don't want to hear him speak.  First of all, it could be good for my research to hear his opinions on originalism and textualism.  Second of all (and more importantly), you don't have to agree with someone to learn from them.

Now, I don't like to get preachy when I write, (see random pictures of puppies and videos of 80s songs,) but I do believe that everyone is entitled to their opinion and you should listen to it.  You're never going to learn the weaknesses of your own argument if you don't listen to someone else's, regardless of how ridiculous you may think it is.*  Use someone else's viewpoints to sharpen your own.

And be humble when it turns out you're wrong.  It's okay to realize that maybe someone else's thoughts were better than yours.  Use that information.  Pick their brain, and let it lead you somewhere good or useful.

So while I don't agree with Scalia that all answers should be found in the "four corners" of a document, I'm excited to find out why he does believe that.  And while I don't believe all of his opinions are good ones, I'm excited to hear how he arrived at them.

After all, you don't get to be a Supreme Court Justice by being stupid.

_____________________
*See, "We don't even HAVE 7-11s on the South Side!"

Fashion Forward Fridays

In this edition of Fashion Forward Fridays, we examine the geekiest, yet most convenient accessory EVER:

The Rolling Backpack

I know, I know. Do I really want to go here? Here's the thing: I noticed a rip in the bottom of my trusty five and a half year old backpack today. Apparently the huge law books are murdering it. So the decision is finally before me: Do I give up and get the rolling backpack?

Pros:

• My vertebrae won't feel collapsed at the end of the day. Books are HEAVY. And carrying four books, a legal pad, my macbook, and a heavy water bottle all day is bad for your back. Apparently you're not supposed to carry more than 10% of your body weight on your back. But I'm not 300 pounds, so you can see how my bag is getting a little uncomfortable.
• I'll have more space. Apparently rolling backpacks are much bigger than they look, and have lots of compartments. So I won't have to dig through my bag as much, and I'll actually be able to carry MORE than I do now, which means less trips between home and school.

Cons:

• They look pretty dorky. It's like you're saying, "I'm so serious, I need a SERIOUS backpack." I don't WANT to be the dorky kid. I want a cute side bag that I can carry with pride.
• They're pricey. The one pictured here retails for $169.95 at the company website. (It's only $101 at Overstock.com, though.) A decent backpack is only $30. Will it last long enough to make it worth the price? (I would appreciate some feedback on this.)

I can't decide what I want to do, but I need to decide before my Macbook falls out of my backpack while I'm walking down State Street.

I Want to Live a Simple Life

Well, it's been a Week, with a Capital W. And it's only Wednesday, which also starts with a W, oddly enough. Things that have happened this week:

1.) I lost my ID

2.) I had to wait in multiple lines, deal with downed servers and waste an extra 20 minutes of my life getting a new ID.

3.) Fifteen minutes after I got my ID, I got an e-mail saying my lost one was found.

4.) I used my new ID to rush around and get stuff ready to turn in for my law review memo which was due at five. I managed to get it done.

5.) It didn't matter because today my SECOND topic was rejected.

I won't lie, after the ID issues and the stress that called, and my night classes this week, and not being able to focus, having my topic rejected for a second time was psychologically damaging.

I've got to be honest: I didn't know what the Law Review was until about October of my first year, when I had to cite a law review for something else. (For anyone who doesn't know, Law Review is a student-run journal. You can grade on if you make the top 10%, or you can write on if you have kickass writing skills.) Meanwhile, other people made Law Review their ultimate first year goal. They had topics in mind and interests ready to go. I graded on accidentally, and am totally lost as to how this whole thing works. I'm not even entirely sure that this is what I want to do, except that I'm told it's this huge honor and you just have to do it.

So I did it. And there I was, at a loss again. I feel like every time I fail at this journal thing, it's supposed to be some sort of sign that I'm not right for this, that I'm not the sort of person who is supposed to do this. Except that I WANT to do something like this for once. Keep a commitment for once in my life and not quit. However, since the universe is busily telling me to give up now, I'm just about ready to give into psychic pressure and throw things out the window.

And this afternoon I just about did. I don't have the personality type the rest of these people have, and maybe I'm just taking a spot from someone who really deserves/wanted it. And maybe I'm not meant to write in a peer-reviewed journal. Sometimes law school just sucks and makes you want to (as I told LSBFF tonight) "Eat Pauly's Pizza, and hopefully choke on it and die." But, fortunately, I didn't eat Pauly's tonight.

LSBFF invited me to join her and two of her best friends tonight for dinner. After a dipped Italian beef sandwich with hot peppers, a short ramble around downtown, and Ghirardelli's ice cream, I feel a lot better. Regardless of what happens, at the end of this, no matter what decision I make about Law Review, I'll still be standing. And if all else fails, there's always Portillo's for some healthy emotional eating.

So much stress, and I have to be up early tomorrow, because they're shutting off the hot water in the building at 8 am. At least that we'll give me plenty of time to do some serious thinking

Our Love is Like A Poem, That Doesn't Work

In the midst of my next assignment being due for Law Review and the onerous amount of reading I have to do for Monday, I had a post about the importance of free speech protection planned out. However, I decided to write about something that's been bothering me for some time.

I was an avid reader all the way through high school, sometimes reading up to fifteen books in a week during the summer. (That's at least two books a day for those of you who are counting.) When authors construct their work, they generally tend to create characters that are likable, memorable, and have some sort of chemistry. Those character couples tend to resonate in the heads of their readers for a very long time. I, for instance, have a very special place in my heart for Meg and Calvin from A Wrinkle in Time.* Most people who read as much (or even less, I suppose) as I did have their favorite couples.

But what about the ones you didn't like? There are some literary love stories that I find distasteful to this day. I can't think of them without my fifteen-year-old brain going: WTF? So I give to you:

THE FIVE WORST COUPLES IN THE HISTORY OF BOOKDOM:

5. Cathy and Chris from Flowers In The Attic. They're blonde and beautiful. He's abusive, she's mousy, and they're having sex. They're also brother and sister. But because of some kind of creepy Stockholm syndrome born of not being allowed to ever leave the attic because they're children of a somewhat incestuous relationship** they fall in a creepy sort of love and treat their much younger twin brother and sister as their own children. Why did this only make number five? Because while the gross-out factor is really high, it's a V.C. Andrews book. ALL of her books were at this level of "Why God Why?" so once you read a couple, the disgust kind of fades.

4. Ginny and Harry from Harry Potter and the Whatever Mystery Harry Must Solve This Week. My problem with this is where did it come from? Sure, back when they were all freshmen*** Ginny had this crush on Harry and it was kind of cute because it was unrequited love and nothing was going to come of it, etc etc. But all of a sudden in their sixth year, it was like J.K. Rowling said, "Fuck it. I can't let Harry keep coming to Weasley family functions unless he's actually part of the family."**** So then Ginny and Harry fall in love at Dumbledore's funeral out of nowhere. No build up, nothing to recommend their relationship, just Love(!). And then they have the stupidest named kid of all time.

3. Diana Barry and Fred Wright from Anne of Green Gables, et seq. Okay. I know. Diana is described throughout the whole Anne of Green Gables series as being an ordinary, yet uncommonly pretty child. And when all the other kids get to study for college, her mom makes her learn to cook and clean for her future husband. So Diana never really had a chance. But Fred Wright?? I mean, Anne gets Gilbert Blythe, AS SHE SHOULD, but couldn't Diana at least have gotten a character we'd heard of before. I honestly think Moody Spurgeon***** would have been a better choice. And his name is FRED?? Could it get any more boring? Yes, I know Diana doesn't have Anne's imagination, but could we at least have married her off to someone a little more interesting. I mean, the girl didn't even get to study for the Queen's College exam!

2. Daine and Numair from the Wild Magic****** series. Daine was all of fourteen when the series started, and Numair was like forty. Interestingly, this squicked me out WAY more than Cathy and Chris did. After all, Daine and Numair had the ability to see other people, as they weren't living in an attic. Pedophilia is so unattractive. And I still remember the start of the third book, where he's describing her long, luscious eyelashes as she sleeps. GET AWAY FROM THE SLEEPING MINOR!!!!

1. Amy and Teddy from Little Women. This is MY LEAST FAVORITE COUPLE OF ALL TIME!!!!!!! Amy spends her time making everyone else's lives miserable with her constant need to be the center of attention. Teddy goes around sneaking off from his tutors and hanging out with the March girls because he finds them fascinating. He is funny, adorable, and extraordinarily handsome. The perfect catch of the late 19th century. Nothing ticks me off more than when he says, "Let me introduce....my wife," and the Marches' YOUNGEST SISTER steps out of the carriage dressed to the nines. Teddy, let me help you here. Amy is a RAGING bitch. Seriously, and you only married her because she effectively STOLE Jo's trip to Europe where you happened to be man-whoring it up at the time.******* Look, you should have just pined away for Jo forever. Because seriously, Teddy. RAGING SELF-ABSORBED BITCH. Which just goes to show. It's always the girls with the ugliest personalities who get the hot guys.

What about you? Do you have any literary couples that you love, hate, or love-to-hate?

______________________

*Especially that part where he takes her glasses off, remarks how pretty her eyes are, and how she shouldn't take them off anymore, because he doesn't want anyone else to know. Melts my dorky heart.

**Their mother married their long-lost half-uncle, and their grandmother is keeping them in the attic to hide them from society. Also because they are clearly devil spawn, what with their uncle being their father and all.

***This is a reference to a Very Potter Musical. For those of you who haven't seen it, get on that. Also, it means first years.

****Of course, if she LIKED the Weasleys she would just go with it. After all, it's totally Harry's fault they all keep dying. But Mrs. Weasley just keeps knitting him sweaters.

*****Interestingly, I just noticed that I always refer to all of the characters in this book series by their first and last names NO MATTER WHAT, but I think L.M. Montgomery does as well. All except for Anne of course. Does Anne HAVE a last name? Does anybody know?

******I was twelve. It had magic AND animals. It was cool back then. Stop laughing.

*******In the movie, you grew that ridiculous mustache. It was silly, but you were also Christian Bale at the time, so I forgive you.

The Year of The Cat

FELIS CONCOLOR

Enough Said.

Working on this trial brief is really sapping my energy, but I went to the professor today and I think I finally have a handle on the direction it was supposed to go. So I sent it there. (Enjoy your trip!) Now I just need to finish Bluebooking and proofreading. But that will have to wait until tomorrow. When I have an interview at noon, and the brief is due at 3 pm on the dot. Yeah, this should be interesting.

Anyway, as usual during the proofreading madness, I put my iTunes* on shuffle, and sang along to the various showtunes that popped up.** What came on but a little Wicked, and the song "Wonderful." Now, I usually skip that one in the rotation because it's not my favorite, but my laptop was across the room and I am notorious for my laziness as well as my love of Broadway.

Where I'm from, we believe all sorts of things that aren't true.

We call it history.

A man's called a traitor or liberator,

A rich man is a thief or philanthropist.

Is one a crusader, or ruthless invader?

It's all in which label is able to persist.

There are very few at ease with moral ambiguities,

So we act as though they don't exist.

In Anthropology, we spent a lot of time discussing what history really meant. History is really more a timeline through someone else's glasses, colored not only by their point of view, but also in the way they view time. (For instance, one group of Native Americans sees time the same way as distance. Someone displaced from you in time, is really only displaced by distance, so that really makes the way they see history different from ours, which is more like a running river.***)

Anyway, I find that case law is very similar to history, in that its the story of the winners, not the losers. Ever wonder why you didn't learn about the Trail of Tears too much in middle school, but they made Andrew Jackson look like more of a badass than Chuck Norris? Probably for the same reason that Cardozo didn't mention that the scale that fell on Mrs. Pfalsgraf's head was actually so heavy that its a wonder she didn't die instead of simply suffering severe brain damage.

Facts in cases are selected and highlighted to make the judge's (and jury's) decision look like the right one. Even as 1Ls we learn to hide dissatisfactory facts in the middle of sentences and to mitigate them with more favorable facts. We're trying to make the loser's (or opponent's) story disappear, to remove them from history and to make their tale appear less noble and dignified.

But I've never been satisfied with the history of the victors. It hardly seems fair to hide the story of the other side just so that the future readers feel at ease because of a lack of "moral ambiguities."

As for the judges who suddenly found themselves to go from "dime a dozen mediocrates" to "Solomons and Socrates", I certainly hope that they're being careful when writing their opinions to be as fair to the "losers" as they can. After all, they're writing legal history here.

________________________

*Speaking of iTunes, did you know that Steve Jobs pretty much announced that he killed the CD in his last "unveiling"? Seriously, he said that the iTunes logo is changing to be just the music notes with no CD behind them, because he made them unnecessary. I can't decide if that's arrogant, or creepy, or both. I feel like Steve Jobs might be the Hitler of technology. (But God help me, I love my Apple products.)

**Yes, I have lots of showtunes, and I can belt a mean "All I Ask of You" given half a chance and some room to really turn up the volume. Anyone up for a duet? (I also love doing Somewhere That's Green.)

*** Which is ironic, because in Pocahontas, there's that whole song about how you can't step in the same river twice. Which I may also have listened to tonight.

The Great Pretender

Labor Day

I have truly worked hard today.

I did an edit of my brief.

And I made cupcakes and went to Taco Bell and watched three episodes of 30 Rock.

Tomorrow I need to work on a presentation that's 25% of my grade in Collective Bargaining class.

But really, 30 Rock and Taco Bell is AWESOME.

I love pretending not to be in law school.

Sing A Happy Little Working Song

Okay.....legal wisdom, legal wisdom....Nope. I think it's time for a list.

The Five Cheesy Songs That Make Me Happy When I'm Working Too Hard:

5. Footloose. It's just so....happy! And it makes me want to arrange a giant flashmob style choreographical thing in the library. However, I never tell anyone when it's on my iPod. It's just too 80s for words.

4. I've Had the Time of my Life. Speaking of the 80s, I haven't watched the movie Dirty Dancing lately. Why does this dose of extreme cheddar make me smile? Because it's so WRONG. This is my sarcastic love song to law school. I want to sing it to DePaul's front doors and then put a true 90s child "PSYCH!!" after it.

3. Independent Women.* Take that boys. Take. That.

2. The Future's So Bright (I've Got to Wear Shades). I understand that this song is supposed to be about some sort of post-apocalyptic future. But really. "Things are going great, and they're only getting better/I'm doing all right, getting good grades/ The future's so bright. I gotta wear shades." Infinitely cool. And geeky. ALL AT THE SAME TIME.

1. "You're My Best Friend." Okay. I admit it, pretty much any song by Queen makes me happy. For all that they were an 80s glam band, their lyrics have a delightfully snarky innocence to them. Seriously Bicycle Race and Crazy Little Thing Called Love? On the other hand, we have Fat-Bottomed Girls. So maybe not so innocent. But still wonderfully cheesy.

It occurs to me that most of my cheesy songs are from the 80s. Oh well. It was a cheesy time. Hmmmm....I need to go watch Patrick Swayze dance. And so do you.

____________________

*This may only be because my roommate listened to it three times last night. But it still made me smile.

Take a Letter, Maria

Dear Girl-Whose-Name-I-Totally-Know-But-Feel-Like-I-Shouldn’t-Broadcast-Here:

The ninth floor bathroom is markedly tiny. Three bathroom stalls, one sink, and one place to dry your hands. It’s why people move through this bathroom so quickly. No one wants to wait in line before or after class for too long. Moreover, you know how many people are in that bathroom at any given time. It’s small. You can tell when You’re Not Alone.

Which is probably why when I finished using the bathroom and was ready to wash my hands I thought you would move. I never expected your vanity would stop me from cleanliness, which we all know is next to godliness. And, it was okay when it seemed that you were just putting your hair up and leaving, but then you took it back down. And then you slowly put it back up, piece by long blonde piece, checking your reflection in the mirror from every direction after each little bit of gathering you did. And then you put it back down.

To put it back up again. And at that point I had been waiting to wash my hands for a good three minutes. You knew I was there, and I knew you knew I was there. And trust me, it was all I could do to not make a sarcastic comment. (I’ve come a long way since I needed to comment on everything.) But I have to know: Is it painful being so self-absorbed that you can’t step away from the mirror for the time it takes me to sing “Happy Birthday” twice? (Washing your hands is a serious business.)

And it’s not like you’re short. No, you’re tall enough that taking three steps backward would mean that you could still see yourself in the mirror. And I would be hunched over washing my hands at the sink for short people anyway. Why are you still doing your hair?

Then someone else walked in and you dropped all the hair in your hands and walked out of the bathroom, knowing that someone else in the bathroom would see your vanity meant that it could easily be spread around. All that work, and you decided to wear your hair down.

You have totally made it into my future sitcom as “Vain Girl” #2.

Oh. And when I got done washing my hands, I got out of the way to make sure that the next person could wash theirs.

Thank you for nothing,

Amanda

P.S. For someone who's so worried about their appearance, today you looked super trashy.

P.P.S. So there.