divine angst

I love it when I get good, helpful advice from people. Really, really love it.

I love it when I get good, helpful advice from people. Really, really love it.

Dude.

Google? Is getting a little too intimate with me and my searching. Today I was looking for an article, so I googled the title, hoping to find out something about it. I didn’t find THAT article, but I got links, through Google Scholar, to a couple of other articles that seemed promising, like they might cite to the article I was looking for.

So I clicked on the link to the first article, the link at the top of the Google search results page, that says “Scholarly articles for [my search here].” When you do that, it takes you the result on Google scholar, with more information on where it is, and what it is. And, for me, searching for this article on campus, it includes a link next to the title that says, “Find it @ [My school].”

Huh wah wah?

Google Scholar has apparently sniffed out either my IP address or my secure connection to my school’s network, and is pointing me to results that I can only have access to if I am affliated with my school. Like, results on HeinOnline, or JSTOR.

THAT is freaky. I’m not sure how I feel about that, either.

I have become a smelly.

OK, maybe I’m being a little harsh on myself. But over the last few weeks I’ve developed the tendency, if I know I’m going to be home all day, to decide not to shower. The fact that I’m probably dressed at 6:45 am, from taking the dog out, does not help.

This tendency leads me to today: I’m sitting in jeans, a t-shirt, a hoodie, appropriate undergarments, and I have stacks of paper around me. I’m ready to work. But I still have my glasses on, I haven’t brushed my teeth, combed my hair, or showered. This, my friends, cannot be good. I used to have regular tirades against the girls in my college dorm who didn’t shower every day because, after all, cleanliness is next to godliness. Or at least smells better.

Welcome to the “pearls of wisdom” edition of the Weekly Law School Roundup, where posts from law students and recent graduates are presented with sound bites of advice.

• Problem solve! (Two Timing the Cosmos)
• Be funny! (Rambling Without Cause)
• Invest! (Burning Light of Reason)
• Research! (Frequent Citations)
• Say cheese! (Lunching with Lions)
• Be honest! (The Namby Pamby)
• Hold out for more! (Strict Scrutiny)
• Stand up for yourself! (Cella Bella)
• Schmooze! (Shellvester)
• Tell stories! (Magic Cookie)
• Crunch the numbers! (Musings of a 2L)

And that’s it for this week’s roundup! Look for it next week at Evan Schaeffer’s Legal Underground, and then in two weeks, it’ll be back here.

Mr. Angst is right. We do not have a dog. We have a sleep monkey.

I wanted to make sure I posted today, because I’m trying to post everyday, just for the sake of consistency and practice and all that good stuff. But I’m having trouble figuring out what to write about. I could write about the things I see everyday that annoy me (men in short shorts, girls with their bellies hanging out, packs of people crowding a sidewalk who won’t move out of the way), the things that have happened to me that have SUCKED (like the biatch who slammed into me as I was getting off the train today, causing me to experience a slight nosebleed, and now my nose is swollen and I hope I don’t end up with a black eye), or how terrifyingly cute Himself is, especially when he rolls around on his back on the carpet right before passing out.

But are any of those things worthy of their own post? No, of course not. That’s why I put them in all in one post. And there you go. Some people have no fashion sense, my head and nose hurt A LOT, and Himself is snoozing on the rug. That’s my day.

According to Mr. Angst: You never have to take responsibility for a poot. Or a burp. Or any odor. It’s ALWAYS THE DOG.

Two years ago, my stepfather took a job with a company that promptly transferred him to a city over 500 miles away from where he and my mother had been living.

It was good job and a good opportunity and a good company, so everyone took many deep breaths and agreed that putting up with this move for a year or so would be a good thing. I say a year or so because the company told him that they thought a spot might open up for him in their home city within a year. He wanted to work for the company, so agreed to suck it up. Sometimes you put up with uncomfortable or unpleasant things because you know the payoff at the end will be so much better.

Since they moved, my mother and stepfather have been waiting for that payoff. And waiting. And waiting. And waiting. A few months ago, the company asked my stepfather to take on a different position, overseeing multiple locations, and we all thought that was the beginning of the payoff. They said that after six months to a year, he could relocate back to their home city and continue overseeing those locations, since he had to fly everywhere anyway. So he took that on, and flew around five days a week, being a good manager, and always going home to that far away city, because the payoff was still in the future, if a little further away.

A few weeks ago, my stepfather stepped down from that position and took back his old job, still in that far away city. The travel wasn’t working. He missed the people he worked with. His skills were not being used effectively. For a variety of very good reasons, he was back at square one. But this time, the payoff was not guaranteed. The company just couldn’t make that promise anymore. My mother and stepfather were looking at (at least) another year in the far away city, and maybe more than that. They were sad, we were sad, everyone was sad. That far away city was different and in many ways unwelcoming to them, and they did not want to be there any more. Except that my stepfather really liked his job and the company he worked for. So they agreed to stay there.

Today, my stepfather found out, totally out of the blue, that he is being transferred again–but this time, back home! The payoff has arrived and, in the way such delightful things often arrive, it did so in a big whoosh. He has to be back there in a week! My mother is figuring out how they can break their lease. My brother is looking for houses for them. My sister has called her realtor friends. My family is getting to move back home.

It’s about time.

Because I’m working from home today, I’m getting a really good sense of how Himself likes to spend his time during the day.

He sleeps.

I figured he would sleep when we weren’t here. That goes almost without saying. The fact that he sleeps when he’s not alone, though, is sort of remarkable. He is not supposed to be a sleeping dog. That is not typical of his breed at all. We even opened the blinds so he could sit on the back of the chair and watch stuff today, since I am on the computer doing my work. And he is, indeed, sitting on the back of the chair. But he’s not watching the passersby. He’s got his head tucked down and he’s sleeping. I’d imagine if I took him outside, he’d be all energy, pulling on his leash as usual. I guess it’s just being inside that puts him to sleep. It’s like warm milk or a turkey dinner–totally crash inducing.

It looks like I’ll be spending the next four or five days making happy with my Bluebook. End-of-summer assignments are coming due, drafts are being finalized, and, hey, I wasn’t planning on going anywhere this weekend.

So I apolgize in advance for any gobbledy-gook I might start spewing. At the very least, I’ll try to avoid using the sanctioned abbreviations in my posts.

Hef more significant than Castro? I’d have to agree. For one thing, I bet more American men would recognize Hef from his picture than would recognize Castro. (I won’t go so far as to say they wouldn’t know who Castro was, if only because of the embargo on Cubanos, but it’s entirely possible most young American men wouldn’t know who Castro was.) For another, um, sex! A decaying communist regime might be interesting to some folks, but sex is interesting to almost all folks.

That being said, I’ll note that Playboy, as a “sex” publication, is pretty outdated. I know their circulation numbers are down, and I know they have a hard time attracting that golden demographic, the 18-24 year-old set. Maybe it’s because Playboy actually has good-quality journalism. It’s not always stuff I agree with, but it’s at least well-written. In some ways, Playboy is like Vanity Fair, but with naked ladies. There’s always a celebrity interview, to bring in the casual reader, a selection of political articles, and fiction. If Dominick Dunne wrote for Playboy, there would be NO difference between the two (except, again, naked ladies).

So, yes, Milbarge, Hef is more significant than Castro. But maybe he shouldn’t be.

Day 2 with Himself went well…or, well enough. I think he’s getting used to us and realizing he lives here now. I did come home yesterday to discover he had had an accident, on our BED no less, but I don’t think he was marking. I think he may have just lost control, or been making a statement, or something of that nature. In any case, we washed the bedding, deodorized everything, and, last night, he slept in the kitchen. He seemed to do better there than in our bedroom.

Today, instead of confining him to the kitchen and the bedroom, we’re going to confine him to just the kitchen while we’re gone, and see how he does. I think he’ll be fine, but if he’s not, the kitchen is mostly indestructible and the floors in there are already trashed. (Thank you prior tenant who appears to have left something big, square, and wet sitting on the floor for an extended period of time. Water damage? Already existed. Hurrah!)

So that’s that. Yesterday’s accident was a little disheartening. And Himself hasn’t quite opened up to us yet. Maybe we haven’t quite opened up to him. We’re all still bonding here, figuring each other out, and we’re all doing a little bit of learning. Mr. Angst and I are learning how to fit Himself into our lives, and Himself is learning a few new tricks and commands. Training a smart, adult dog is actually kind of fun when the stakes are low. (It’s when I try to teach him not to bark at 6am when I’m taking him out that’s not so fun; he has to pee, the neighbors are sleeping, and I’m not quite awake.)

Dog updates will continue.

Hi Registrar! Remember us? We’re the law students who got the joy of being rising 2Ls when the school decided to completely change the way classes are selected? Yeah, THOSE law students. Good to see you again!

Listen, I understand that this new system is as much of a hassle for you as it is for us. Or, at least, I think I understand that. I mean, no, you aren’t having to bid blindly on classes with no idea what sorts of bids will be likely to be successful (because there’s no history in the system and all), but I’m sure the change has required your office to make some changes and adjustments and it’s, I guess, possible that you’re as stressed as we rising 2Ls are. Of course, we’re the only group of students likely to be completely screwed by the new system, since the 1Ls are automatically enrolled in their 1L classes, and the 3Ls have already taken their 2L classes (and have more clout in the new system), but I am sure–SURE!–that your staff are also stressed.

Which is why I’m not actually going to complain that you pushed the running of the lottery back a week. I’m not! I mean, that gives us one week less to tweak our bidding for the second round of the lottery (or whatever it should be called now), but really, no big.

What I am going to ask is why the results of the lottery aren’t up yet. Why aren’t those results up yet? The system closed over 24 hours ago. Are you having a problem with the program? Did people bid wildly all over the place because no one has any idea what to bid for classes and cause problems with enrollments? Because that? Would suck. And would not have been at all predictable. Y’know, just saying.

Anyway, I just wanted to say Hi, and let you know that I feel your pain, with the change and all. But please, PLEASE, could you just send an email or something, letting us know sort of around when the results might be posted? That’d be super. Thanks!

Now that Mr. Angst and I are home from our little trip, we are preparing to get our new dog! We pick him up this evening (and MANY thanks to that shall-remain-unnamed friend who is lending us her car to make that task a little easier).

I think we’re pretty much ready to get him, too. We haven’t gotten a lot of stuff, since his current owner is going to give us a lot of the things they currently have. In that way, adopting a dog from a person is a lot different from buying a puppy or adopting a dog from a shelter. But we want to make sure the apartment is tidy and mostly dog-proofed (though he is not a chewer). And we want to make sure it’s inviting for him. So we’ll do a little of that preparation this afternoon before we go get him. Is there anything else we should be doing before we pick up Himself today?

1) I am in an airport (I repeat: in an airport) and am online FOR FREE. Kids, it’s enough to make me want to come back to Pittsburg more often! Completely cool. More airports should consider providing free wireless. Commercial vendors don’t get many users, and they certainly don’t get as many as they could, since most pricing models are per day and who really needs that much wireless when they’re traveling? So, Pittsburgh airport, you kick ass.

2) I go to law school with some really nice people. Nice people kick ass.

OK. That’s all.

Traveling always takes it out of me. Of course, the fact that I was completely wiped out yesterday might be due to the fact that we spent two hours sitting in a rainy baseball stadium on Wednesday night, waiting for the game to actually be called (ya know, gotta make sure I can get that refund), drinking beer; and followed that up by rising at 5 am the next day. And then we traveled, and traveled, and traveled some more. Despite a two-hour afternoon nap, I was in no condition to enjoy hanging out with relatives at the hotel bar last night.

But this morning, I feel somewhat refreshed. The hotel has internet access, so I’ve gotten some work done; there’s a coffee maker right next to the ethernet port, so I’m drinking myself awake; and I actually got to sleep in this morning–for the first time in ages, actually, so long as you count the time change. If you don’t count the time change, I got up at about the same time as I always do.

This is sort of a weird time to be out of town, and part of me is still unsettled by that. I have my last summer class on Tuesday, and I need to prepare for it, we pick up our dog on Monday, and I need to prepare for THAT, too. I’m away from school and campus when it might be nice to be around to ask people what’s up with OCI and other end-of-summer things. I feel like I just dropped out, right before a bunch of important stuff happens. It’s not completely unpleasant, but still feels strange and awkward.

The weekend stretches ahead of me, and I know that it will be exhausting in some ways. Seeing family who struggle to place you as “so-and-so’s kid” or “such-and-such’s sister” is hard enough; add in that my life has changed dramatically in the last year, and you have a recipe for long, drawn-out explanations of things that no one really wants to muddle through. Maybe it’s better to just tell people, “I’m in law school! And I’m doing well.” And then we can talk about baseball or football or someone else’s job.

This morning I saw a very small bird near a discarded, half-empty bag of bread. The bird was sprawled on top of the bag, shooting the evil eye at everyone who walked past, almost daring them to try and take his windfall. It was pretty funny.

Of course, then I got stuck behind the SLOWEST stair-climber while I rushed to make my train–which, of course, I missed, because of the slow stair-climber. Here’s a tip: while three different trains do make their way through our station, just because you are not catching the one that’s pulling up to the platform while going up the stairs doesn’t mean I don’t need to catch that train. Capisce?

Finally, if you do your work in the library, turn off your watch alarm. Or don’t use earplugs.

I had this great post I had written, all about our weekend travel plans and the progress of a year and growth, and Safari went and crashed on me. Safari sucks. (Usually, I use Camino, but for some reason, I chose Safari this time. Apple, phooey on you!)

What I had written about was the family reunion we’ll be attending this weekend, an affair that can be both tiresome and exhilerating. This year more than others, I know we will have plenty to talk about: it’s our first year above the Mason-Dixon line (though that Line doesn’t stretch this far west, as far as I know), we both finished our first year of grad school, we’re about to adopt a dog….we’ve had a lot of firsts this year, and they’ve all been really exciting. To us. Of course, the great thing about family is that you can talk about all that kind of stuff as much as you want and they will put up with it even if it IS boring as salt. (Is salt boring, actually? I know that’s not really a turn of phrase, I just threw it out there, but salt is so ubiquitous that it seems it would be boring. Yet, salt? Never boring. Always makes things better. So, not such a good turn of phrase.)

So that’s what’s going on with me. Maybe this post (and the one that disappeared before it) is just my way of saying posting will be light for a few days. And maybe it won’t. I actually don’t even know what hotel we’re staying at, so I can’t say if I’ll have internet. Even if I do, though, I still probably won’t post much.

Despite the heat, I am having a good evening. Yes, yes I am. In fact, it’s a VERY GOOD EVENING. And that’s all I’m going to say about THAT.

I just realized, to my shock, that my summer class is over next week. Damn.