Saturday, September 20, 2014

Starbucks Club: Mischief. Mayhem. Coffee.

I'm tired. 
Maybe I'll get to a point where I'm used to sleep deprivation and stress and I will be able to post more often, but this is not that point. 
My tired has only reached the point of making weird mistakes. I read a long blog post that contained the phrase "invest in a good pair of..." several times, but my sleepy eyes substituted "gold" for "good" every time. And while that sounds absolutely fabulous, I really couldn't figure out why an adult blogger would be encouraging women to invest in a gold pair of leggings; since around 95% of us are not go-go dancers or 80s rappers, that advice is really just not practical. 

Exhibit B: I had to order a certified copy of my birth certificate, so I went online and got it done. A voicemail left the next day informed me that Andrea from Vital Statistics couldn't find me in the system. Loe and behold, I ordered my birth certificate from Tejas, when I was actually born in New Mexico. FRIENDS, I FORGOT WHERE I WAS BORN. This was not merely a case of Texas pride gone wrong--I genuinely forgot that (1) I was not born here, and (2) Texas wouldn't have my NM birth records. 
Without caffeine, this bad situation would be a train wreck. I spend a lot of my time at the coffee shop across the street from the law center and my local Starbucks. As someone who doesn't like the general public, but desperately needs to be in public in order to get any reading done, this has been very taxing. I have seen the worst of what my middle class area of Houston has to offer, and so I feel capable of presenting some rules to follow when venturing into your local, non-alcoholic watering hole. 

1. Bring your freaking headphones
I love the Guardians of the Galaxy soundtrack just as much as the next person, but I keep my enjoyment private. The people who refuse to use headphones in public places are either jackasses who want to show everyone, via their sweet tunes, how cool they are, or completely clueless tools who are too self-involved to see that there are other people around who might not study best to Spotify's EDM 2014 playlist.

2. Seats are for studiers
If you are putzing around on your cellphone and someone with a backpack wanders in looking for an empty seat, get up. While you may have a right to that seat, you are probably accruing Purgatory time for messing with a student's study vibe. Multiple times now, I have driven to my nearest Sbux with a loaded down backpack, reluctant but purposeful, only to find all the seats filled with cellphone scrollers & slow sippers. If I fail out of law school, it will be their fault. 
3. No. Whistling. 
Or humming, for that matter. At my local Yuppiebux, there is one barista in particular who likes to whistle Christmas songs. He's been doing it since August. Just when I thought I'd reached as far as a white girl #canteven, I found a whole other level of #literallydying. 
4. This is not a slumber party
This one's more for your sake than mine, but some things should stay under wraps. I'm a pretty decent multitasker, so I am fully capable of reading for Torts while silently judging your conversation. A quiet coffee shop is not the place to be talking about any sensitive information. Just because we're strangers does not mean I'm not judging you. In fact, our lack of any relationship gives me judgey carte blanche, as far as I'm concerned.
If this helps but a single exasperated soul, I will consider my life a success.

Sunday, September 7, 2014

Bob Loblaw's Law Blog

I'm two weeks into law school, so I consider myself sort of an expert. And let me tell you. Stuff's no joke. 

My first week went a little like this:
A swell combination of nervous-excited-dread. I was ready to finally start what I'd been working towards for a few months, but the whole making friends thing had me a-tremblin'. Not from fear, mostly in resignation. This curmudgeon doesn't change her stripes; I recoil from social interaction with strangers like someone is trying to surprise-ice-bucket-challenge me. Also, big schools are the worst. Parking is ridiculous and I had to make my own spot so I wouldn't be late on the first day. #missingUD

Tuesday my last place of employment, I didn't have to be in the office until 10:30. Granted, I had to stay until around 8:00 every night, but waking up at my leisure was just beautiful. Now, I need caffeine nonstop just to make it through the day. Because of the little parking issue mentioned above, I have to get to campus a couple of hours before my first class just to find a decent parking spot. Having to choose between sleeping in and parking is my version of Sophie's choice. It's just cruel.

I was cold-called the third day in what looks to be my most difficult class. That meant standing up and discussing a case with the professor for around 20 minutes. Luckily, two unfortunate souls had been the first to suffer the day before, so I knew to be prepared. BUT STILL. This place is an introvert's hell. Why can't I prove my intelligence with clever one-liners, like in all the scenarios I imagine while trying to go to sleep?

I don't have class on Fridays, so my tires were squealing as I left campus on Thursday. And going back on Tuesday after the long weekend was hell. 

Also, literally everyone asks what area of law you want to specialize in. I'm tired of finding new ways to say I have no freaking idea, so this will be my new response:
Aliens need representation too. 
I'm currently procrastinating on multiple assignments, haven't done laundry, and I need groceries. I'm a guaranteed success.