divine angst

OK, kiddos, I rarely ask for advice here, but I’m really stumped right now.

I am in need of a good pair of winter boots. I have these, which I bought to take with me on ski trips, but they are pretty much worthless. The sole is too stiff, so it doesn’t flex when I walk, which means I pretty much don’t walk in them, I stomp. Also, every time I take a step, my heel comes up out of the shoe and my ankle presses against the front of the hi-top (which I have to lace super-tight so my foot doesn’t come OUT of the shoe), leaving me at the end of it all with a sore ankle and sore legs and knees from walking with an unfamiliar motion.

So, OK. Those boots are crap. But I need boots! I’ve been wearing my good knee-high leather boots, with the low heel and the neoprene-like lining instead, but they’re getting ruined from the weather. I’d like to keep them for nice, since they’re “nice” boots, and not “inclement weather” boots.

What I’m seeking, then, are recommendations. I want something that’s not leather, at least not entirely leather, or that, if it is leather, is designed to take a beating from the elements. I want something relatively light so I don’t feel like I’m wearing cinder blocks on my feet, and I want something that isn’t too bulky to go under my jeans or pants.

I want a lot, I think.

I’ve considered traditional Bean boots, with the GoreTex for warmth and waterproofness, but they are spendy and, since I can’t try them on, I worry about their fit on my feet. This, after all, is how I got stuck with the other boots. So, if you have Bean boots, can you endorse the fit? The lightness on your feet? The flex of the sole, enabling you to walk like a human being and not stomp around like a Yeti?

Alternatively, recommend other winter boots you love, that are warm, dry-feet-promoting, and not so bulky as to, again, cause the Yeti Walk.

Any and all comments are welcomed and appreciated!

I’m feeling old today.

I joke about my age, laugh about being older than many of my classmates (if not most of them). But I don’t generally really feel old. In fact, my brain, most of the time, seems to think I’m about 25. Which is fine with me, because 25 is a good age.

But today, I feel my age. I have some worries on my mind that seem to be the kind of worries 25 year olds don’t have. That might be a completely erroneous impression, too–I am sure plenty of 25 year olds have had these same worries I’m having. But I didn’t have them when I was 25, and none of my 25-year-old friends did, either. When we were 25.

I guess the point of this post is that every now and then something happens that makes you realize you might be older than you’d like to pretend you are. That even though you’re in school again, living that student life, the real world is still out there. And sometimes that real world knocks on your door and says, “Hey! Remember me? I’m still here, and I’m giving you something to worry about today.”

Classes are essentially over for me. I have four more class meetings, but two of those are presentations and one of the other two is a Q&A session. Realizing this brought home the enormity of what lies ahead of me–outlining for the semester. I really haven’t done much of that. And I always forget how long it takes me, when I start outlining, to ramp up to Getting It Done. It usually takes me a couple of days of putting everything in my outline before I realize that I’ve heard the material before and can pare things down.

So that’s what I’m working on right now, while I simultaneously get dinner started–with Mr. Angst’s help, thank goodness. And I’m also mulling over, in my head, the reorganization my comment needs, having met with my advisor this afternoon to discuss Where I Went Wrong.

Right now, it seems like there’s a lot looming ahead of me–and there is. I wasted a lot of time this semester, and I am regretting it now. But I have a lot of free time in the next two weeks, too, so hopefully I can spend most of that writing–writing outlines, revising my comment, and, oh, yes, taking whatever practice exams are available for my two exam classes.

Here’s to renewed RSI.

Sigh. After a five-or-so day respite, I have been informed that I have 56 pages of nasty comments to review. Yes, yes, the word “nasty” was used. Part of me is afraid; part of me is relieved. The afraid part is fairly simple to understand–no one is thrilled to hear that their work is fit for any kind of nastiness. The relief part is also a logical thing–I wanted to churn out the first draft all on my own, and I did, but it was clearly a First Draft, and I am much in need of guidance as to where to go next.

I think this means the next two weeks will be full of writing–again–as I plow through a second draft, work on (starting) my outlines, and polish up other work due for my other classes. I guess it could be worse–I could be a 1L again.

There is nothing worse than traveling with food poisoning. I woke up in the middle of the night with a sour tummy and was sick all day. Note: those bags they put on the plane? Actually useful.

So I’ve been trying to sleep it off since we got home, thanks in no small part to the Dramamine I took at the airport (twice), hoping I would just be knocked out and forget about how awful I felt. Note: Dramamine will knock you out, but only if you can keep it down.

It’s been several hours since I’ve been sick, so I think just laying in my own bed, under warm covers with the lights out was the right prescription. I haven’t, however, been able to get any work done, and I have a lot to do. I don’t think any work I did right now would be any good, though, so I’m trying not to sweat it. Hopefully I can conk out early tonight, get up at a reasonable hour, and at least do my class reading for tomorrow.

So, not the best end to my Thanskgiving vacation, though I had a lovely time otherwise. Of course, I spent much of today wondering what, exactly, made me ill and worrying that it could be a bug and not just food poisoning. With no fever, though, and no other symptoms, I’m guessing the caesar salad at last night’s dinner was the culprit, especially since my dad finished my steak but doesn’t appear to have gotten sick himself.

Blech. Back to the Gatorade.

Thanksgiving has been a bit odd this year. While I’ve loved seeing my family and spending time with them, I’ve had a few too many conversations with family members that leave me feeling uneasy about the future. For some of my relatives, now is a time of new and good things. For others, though, it is a time for leaps of faith, the kind of leaps that, when I was younger, I always assumed would turn out Just Fine for everyone. A little age, it seems, ruins a lot of youthful assumptions, and a little perspective means I’ll worry more than I ever knew was necessary before.

You would figure I’d have dreams of victory after completing the monster last night. And I guess I kind of did. Except my brain sucks at victory, apparently.

Here’s the skinny. I dreamed all the Supreme Court justices–all of them!*–came to somewhere I was. Like my school, maybe, or a conference I was attending? That wasn’t clear. So they were all there, hanging out, and someone suggested they preside over a moot court. Okee-dokee. Except that suddenly, I had volunteered to do one of the arguments. From scratch. Working off an outline of something that didn’t make sense.

Now, you’d think if my brain gave me this setup on a night that is supposed to be full of victorious dreams, I’d knock it out of the park, right? Eh, not so much. Oh, I guess I did better (in my dream) than my partner. Who wasn’t a student but a real, live boy attorney. But I still wandered around in my dream afterwards thinking, gosh, I wish I had knocked it out of the park.

Sigh. Stupid brain.

*OK, Stevens wasn’t there. I guess my brain is worried for his health, so left him home.

I’m just getting to watch last night’s Studio 60, and while I don’t have any comment on the show itself because I’m not finished watching it, I do have a comment on Amanda Peet.

Look, I know girl is pregnant. It’s out there, it’s no big surprise. And from what I hear, they’re going to write it into the show. At some point. But until they do, people, PLEASE stop filming her in such a way that I can not only tell she is pregnant but I also think she looks two months further along than she is?

Because I know someone had the bright idea to hide her belly behind a flowy little ruffle, but all that flowy little ruffle does is draw attention to her BELLY. Her PREGNANT belly. Gah.

Kids, the comment’s done. Thanksgiving, here I come!

Our downstairs neighbors have their Christmas stuff up already.

In a way, this is heartening–they (or at least one of them) is a Christmas junkie like me! In another way, it’s just depressing. When did it become OK to put up Christmas stuff before Thanksgiving?^[1]

I asked Mr. Angst the other day when I could put up the Christmas stuff because in the past, he’s been hesitant to decorate too early. He said, “Well, not before Thanksgiving, of course!” and I replied, “Well, DUH.” Because that’s the fact–DUH. You just don’t decorate your house for Christmas until after Thanksgiving.

I’m sure this basic tenet of holiday decorating has very practical roots, too–who, after all, has time to decorate for the holidays when they are preparing for turkey, dressing, potatoes, sauce, gravy, pie, and people? AFTER the turkey is eaten and put away into the freezer or sent home with the guests–THEN you can start to think about pulling out the holly and greenery. But not before.

I know retailers don’t buy into this restriction because I saw Christmas stuff up before Halloween. But at least some holiday vendors know to wait–the parking lot around the corner is a Christmas tree lot in December and, while they have the candy-striped sawhorses up already, THERE ARE NO TREES. Why? Because you’re not supposed to put your tree up before Thanksgiving! DUH!

So I guess I’ll continue to feel ambivalent about our downstairs neighbors. Because it’s a great big YAY that they are into the holidays, but it’s also a great big NOOOOO that they aren’t into the holidays enough to realize that not waiting kills the holiday.^[2]

1. It’s not like this year’s Thanksgiving is even a LATE Thanksgiving. I mean, it’s on the 23rd, only two days later than the earliest it could be! ↩
2. This is the crux of it all–only children think the world would be perfect if it were Christmas all the time. When you grow up, though, you are supposed to realize that the reason Christmas is so great is because it only comes once a year and it’s a very special, limited-time-only thing. Anticipation is half the fun, y’all. ↩

Welcome to the 45th Edition of the Weekly Law School Roundup. This week’s theme is playground games! Enjoy this (very small) offering of posts by law students.

• Ring Around the Rosy (Law School Virgin)
• Dodge Ball (From Malibu to Waco)
• Capture the Flag (The Namby Pamby)
• House (Frequent Citations)
• Tag (The Law School Transplant)
• Hide-and-Seek (Think Like a Woman. Act Like a Man.)
• Scavenger Hunt (Amicus Curiae)

And that’s the Roundup. Look for it next week at Evan Schaeffer’s Legal Underground and then back here in two weeks. You can also browse some previous roundups in the Law School Roundup Archives.

I ran a really great Westlaw search this afternoon–the kind that produces just a handful of results, even in the biggest database of cases, most of which are actually on point.

As I paged through the cases, one looked weirdly familiar. The name of the appellee sounded familiar, the facts sounded familiar. Something about the case just struck me. I looked at it and wondered if I’d read it before, when running a similar search. I couldn’t figure it out.

And then it hit me.

I scrolled up to the list of appellants. I realized I recognized the “name” appellant’s name, though the spelling wasn’t what I expected. But the next two names confirmed it.

Third and fourth on the list were two of my relatives. A married couple. Who I grew up with. Who, along with several neighbors, sued a neighboring company for violating an easement on their property. Their property which I visited several times a year before we moved to the tundra. Their property where I had my engagement party, during which my relatives discussed how they’d just finished the last of the litigation over the easement. Which, today, I read all about. That last bit of litigation, that is.

Millions of cases on Westlaw. My very narrow search. A case involving people I know and grew up with and property I’ve spent countless hours enjoying. Westlaw voodoo. Pretty cool.

I fully intended to spend all of today working on finishing up my comment. I hoped to have all my pages written by the end of the day so I could spend tomorrow, Monday, and Tuesday editing, finding those last few sources for my “citation?” footnotes, and generally getting the thing ready for submission.

Didn’t quite happen that way. See, what I was going to do was go, early, to Best Buy or somewhere and buy an external keyboard, something I’ve been wanting to do for some time and have put off for forever. With the flare-up of my RSI this week, though, I figured I needed to do something, and do it fast.

But I didn’t get up early enough and I wasn’t feeling very motivated and by noon, I hadn’t gone anywhere–nor had I done any work. And then something amazing happened. Mr. Angst suggested that instead of sitting around, letting the guilt grow because neither of us was being productive, we go run some errands–he needed to print something long at his campus and we both needed to do some very quick shopping. Along the way, he suggested, let’s pick up your new keyboard and then we’ll set you up a workspace with the extra monitor.

So off we went. We printed his stuff downtown, we stopped and bought him some t-shirts, we exchanged a sweater I bought last week, and we picked up that new keyboard. (White! Slim! Shiny! Oh, wait, no…Matte!) While we were out, we ate lunch and enjoyed being with each other, talked about our schedules for next semester, complained about all the tourists out shopping before the day after Thanksgiving, and generally relaxed some. By the time we got home, the mail had come, bringing me new in-ear headphones. And I was ready to work.

I am now comfortably set up at our dining room table with the extra monitor (so, OK, it’s the small monitor–it’s MINE, at least), a new keyboard, and new headphones. I have more resolution and more space. The dog is curled up next to me, and I’m Getting Shit Done.

New workspace. New motivation. Is it sad that that’s all it takes?

I bought Himself a Kong toy today, with some peanut-butter-flavored paste. He is completely enthralled. What is this red rubber thing that bounces and has food inside??? He works at it for a while, then sits back and stares at it. If he stares too long, I ask him, “[Himself], where’s your toy?” and he’s back at it.

Amazing how a teaspoon of peanut butter paste and a little bit of rubber can occupy a dog for hours.

I sat in the living room checking my email this morning after showering and drying my hair, when I heard a plunk plunk plunk noise from somewhere else in the apartment. I followed it to the bathroom where I discovered the ceiling above the toilet had sprung a leak. Plunk plunk plunk. With every drip, rust-colored water splattered on the toilet seat and from thence onto the floor. And onto the shelf where I keep my hairbrushes and bottles of hair product and lotion. Plunk plunk plunk. The crack in the ceiling that’s been above the toilet since we moved in was starting to look distinctly saggier, and the drip was making a beeline to where my head would be were I using the facilities.

Not an auspicious beginning to my day.

Meanwhile, my right wrist and thumb have developed a distinct ache that occassionally morphs into a shooting pain. I’ve been massaging it all day and spent an hour tonight icing it in fifteen minute increments. I suspect my stubborn resistance to ever properly learning to type has something to do with this, as does my relentless use of the touchpad and clicker instead of my external mouse.

The day, my friends was not getting better.

Thankfully, the drip was repaired with little fanfare–our upstairs neighbors simply needed a new wax ring under their commode. The thumb will prove a little trickier, since I still have at least eight pages to write this weekend–and probably closer to fifteen, if I’m honest about how much more I need to actually write to complete the damn paper. But by Thanksgiving I hope to be able to rest and recuperate. And enjoy being with family and eating turkey, of course. Gotta have that thumb back in fighting condition before exams, after all.

And that’s the end of the day. Thank god.

So I haven’t been writing much lately because I’ve been writing a lot. That is, blogging is falling by the wayside as I finish up my comment (gotta get that sucker done by Thanksgiving!) and prepare for the upcoming Month Of Finals. Well, OK, not really–I only have two exams. But somewhere in there is final presentation I have to figure out, and, yeah, the comment, which will require a rewrite sometime hopefully before New Year’s.

Did that paragraph make any sense at all? Doesn’t really seem like it, huh? Sigh. That’s just how my brain is right now. Eck. Sorry guys.

I’m sitting in my apartment with three males–one husband, one brother, and one dog–and all three of them are sound asleep. I am working, they are sleeping. Life is desperately unfair.

Along with all the other things I’ve been trying to manage lately, we had registration last week. Because our registration system changed this year, there’s not a lot of institutional history to inform our choices. So I was a little worried. As it turned out, I am glad I spent some extra time worrying about my choices, but I’m also glad I didn’t spend too much time. I got everything I wanted, including one seminar in which I think I was the last person who got a spot. (That class is why I’m glad I spent a little extra time worrying; I changed my bid for it on the last day, giving it a little more weight. And thank goodness I did.)

So next semester I’ll be taking a couple of “core” classes, a couple of “fun” seminars, and participating in a clinic. I’ll have more free time than I do now, even though my schedule will be less compressed. I think that’s because I’ll have an early morning class. It’s amazing what getting up early in the morning can do for your time management, yes?

But before I can even TAKE those classes, I have to finish writing my comment, work on the group presentation due in another class, and, oh yes, study for two exams. Lots to do in the next few weeks.

I’ve been so stressed about getting stuff done before this weekend, that I haven’t really dwelt on why I have to get stuff done before this weekend: my brother is visiting, and we’re going to be BUSY.

After my middle-of-the-night stress attack, I feel better about what I’m doing and writing, so I am less concerned about not getting everything done that I need to. (As someone noted, more footnotes take up more space, and I haven’t really been focusing on my footnotes. I need to start writing parentheticals!) Our apartment is clean, the dog is bathed, his bedding is washed, and I even vacuumed the rug outside the front door. We are ready for visitors, I still have a few hours to work, and, best of all, my brother is coming to visit! There’ve been some family developments in the last week or so, so I’m looking forward to dishing over that, and, of course, I’m excited for my brother to meet Himself (whom he will spoil to death, I’m sure). Mostly, I’m just looking forward to spending some time with someone who knows me better than almost anyone. I never have to be “on” with my brother.

I’m working diligently right now, so I won’t have another stress attack over the weekend. Working, working, working. Feeling pretty good about it, actually. The more work I do, the more fun this weekend will be.

After tossing and turning for an hour, my mind racing and spinning, I decided to get up and quiet my brain by doing some work. I opened my laptop, pulled up my comment draft, and stared at it.

And then I started working. I refined a few things, I tweaked some others. I looked up something online so I could make sure the language I was using was correct. I reread one of my core arguments, one that I worked on this morning, and confirmed that I was on the right track with it. I scanned through the sections that need fleshing out, making mental notes and a few textual notes, but basically feeling I had everything in place.

And then I looked at my page count.

I short of my page limit by one-third.

I’m not sure what I have left to do will take that many pages.

This is no longer a matter of getting the writing done–given my current organization, I can draft the remainder of this thing pretty quickly. I just don’t know that it’s going to take twenty pages to do it.

I can’t decide if this is because my argument is a lot narrower than I thought it would be or if it’s because I’m making some logical leaps that aren’t apparent to me. I’d like to avoid unncessary background, so I’ve made that section pretty short and to-the-point. Maybe I need to fill in some details. Maybe, instead of describing a piece of representative legislation, I need to outline every piece of substantive legislation in this area. While that would certainly fill in the pages, I can’t say I think it would make my paper better.

The one benefit of getting up in the middle of the night tonight is that I’ve actually looked at this thing with eyes for the large-scale organization, and I see now what’s going on. That’s good. It means I’m likely to be able to go back to sleep, at least tonight. I just wish I knew what was going to happen in the next week and a half.

1. Slept in despite good intentions to get up and work.
2. Read for class right before class.
3. Answered questions about classes for some 1Ls.
4. Read for my other class right before class.
5. Picked up twenty pounds of Westlaw printouts that have been accumulating over the last three weeks or so and figured out how to shove them in my bag, which was already full.
6. Took Himself on a walk to the dog store where I bought him a new toy which he LOVES.
7. Made dinner.
8. Did three loads of laundry.
9. Agonized over whether to accept a friend invitation on Facebook from someone I used to know and of whose recent life choices I seriously disapprove and who I think is ruining his life and who makes me uncomfortable whenever I run into him.
10. Sent three friend requests of my own.
11. Played tug with the dog.
12. Folded laundry.
13. Drank a glass of wine.
14. Refreshed Bloglines twenty times in as many minutes.
15. Cleaned off the dining room table so I could work.
16. Propped one of my sources up on the book stand.
17. Refreshed Bloglines another twenty times in fifteen minutes.
18. Watched the second half of the South Park-Buck Rogers two-part show.
19. Cursed our upstairs neighbors who have a visitor who apparently walks heavier than they do.
20. Poured another glass of wine.
21. Composed this list.

This list is notable for the things it does not contain: I did no writing (though I did bookmark an article I read because I think it might make a good example of something for my comment); I did no reading for tomorrow’s class. I have not prepared for tomorrow night’s mini-concert at the public interest auction. I have not done, in other words, anything I should have tonight. I am screwed.

Next week, we get to discuss, in depth, Marshall v. Marshall. I am SO STOKED.

I find it disturbing and appalling that I am halfway through my comment and have no idea what I’ve written so far. I really have no idea.

Sigh. Working on the big picture. Working hard.

Today has been a not-good day.

Sometime mid-morning, I noticed a twinge in my upper back, specifically, just about underneath my right shoulder blade, that was unusually painful and very unusually persisent. Aleve didn’t do much to unknot the muscles, and stretching only made things worse. So I’ve spent most of the last several hours sitting propped up on the less-squishy couch, with the heating pad wedged under my shoulder. I’m not in as much pain, but I’m still pretty sore. Sadly, the only thing I can do to make it stop is stand up. Stand up and walk around, that is–standing at the stove making dinner certainly didn’t feel good. I also discovered that it’s really hard to concentrate on getting work done when you’re in a lot of pain. It’s hard to type, too, when the pain in your back starts to ooze around into your shoulder joint and then down your arm. So I haven’t been very productive today.

And, of course, all of this was going on in a house with no food. We were pretty much entirely out of stuff to eat, which explains why I kept feeling worse and worse, since all I ate before dinner was a small yogurt with granola and a half-dozen crackers with brie. Oh, and some leftover mashed potates.

So, Sunday was pretty much a waste for me. No more pages written (I need 26 more); only half of my reading done (I still need to catch up from the end of last week, too); and only part of my latest sourcing assignment completed. Hey–at least I got to spend a chunk of time deleting spam comments that keep making it through the junk filters. What delight!

Sigh. I guess the silver lining is that Monday can’t be much worse.

Our upstairs neighbors appear to be building something. I saw them with what looked like wood (and crown molding, which makes no sense) a few weeks ago; every weekend since then, I’ve heard a great deal of hammering and nailing and pounding coming from upstairs for most of Saturday and Sunday.

I know, I know, it’s their weekend, too. And I am sure this is the only time they have to build or do whatever it is they are doing. But it’s starting to get really, really, really old. (Note that I can only assume they’re building something, because there is no way they have enough wall space to be hanging that many pictures.)

Whatever it is they are doing, I hope they stop soon, like before next weekend–we have a houseguest coming, and I can’t imagine he’d be thrilled by all the banging either.