Blogging pays off

I just got invited to beta test an official Scrabble Facebook app. Hasbro Googles. Who knew?

See, and Bullshark just thinks I'm wasting time on the internet.

Blogging has rewarded me . . . by giving me new and exclusive ways to waste time on the internet.

I am not sure if I was more impressed by the sheer insanity of it or if I had drunk too much wine, but I kind of thought it was awesome

... so I was at my town's fireworks show last night. Got there at 7:00ish with some friends and playmates and pizza and hidden wine and listened to the DJ until it finally got dark enough for fireworks.

Has anyone else has heard a remix of Michael Jackson's Thriller and Journey's Don't Stop Believing? I mean, I am thinking the DJ is some sort of weird, 80's obsessed genius, but it could be a common club remix for all I know.

Anyway, imagine the signature music of Thriller with the lyrics

Just a small town girl, livin in a lonely world
She took the midnight train goin anywhere
Just a city boy, born and raised in south Detroit
He took the midnight train goin anywhere

A singer in a smokey room
A smell of wine and cheap perfume
For a smile they can share the night
It goes on and on and on and on

... if you can't imagine it, I can't blame you. Had I read this post on someone else's blog, I would have have been completely incapable of reconciling the melodies in my head.

Suffice it to say, it worked well.

____________________
Now that song is stuck in your head... isn't it?
Don't stop believing.... Streetlight people...

Avoiding my civic duty

I have jury duty in May.

No postponing it ... I did that already.

Do you think the first words out of my mouth should be "law student," "summer associate at local law firm," or "mother to young child?"

Which one is most likely to get me sent home fastest?

Edited to add: No offense to Cee, who I am sure is answering tongue-in-cheek, but I really don't want to give any answers that will raise questions on the character and fitness section of my bar application. So, no, I am not going to advocate the death penalty for petty theft, nor will I launch into a profanity laden tirade as my own mother helpfully suggested.

Edited again to add: I was actually looking forward to jury duty in principle... until I realized how much it would mess with my summer job to get on a panel.

I may not be 7 diamonds but I also didn't just wander off the bus from Jersey

Forgive the Spitzer reference, but I've just engaged in an email exchange I find hilarious:

Subj: Interested in a link on your website

Hi,

I was interested in placing a text ad onto your site for the site that I am working on -[website with legal sounding name redacted].

Please let me know if this is possible when you receive this.

Thanks!

Kristin

Reply, Butterflyfish, after I checked out the link:

Interesting... what's it pay?

Reply, Kristin:

I was hoping it was just a link? I have to pay?

Reply, Butterflyfish:

Well, unlike many bloggers, I currently don't have advertising on my site. Your email said "text ad" -- anyone who has ever solicited a "text ad" on my site has offerred some money. So I was curious what you were offering.


I am sure you understand the concept as your website is basically an attorney advertising site that promises its customers increased exposure and web traffic, charges a hefty premium for such exposure, and is operated by a "search engine marketing company."

I am pretty sure I won't be hearing from Kristin again, though if I do, I'll keep you posted.

The whole thing just makes me feel . . . dirty, like I'll never be clean again.

My only email of the day

Subject line: [Random classmate from my 1L section] took the "Old school Disney" movie quiz

Contents: It took [classmate] 9 days 4 hours to finish the quiz. Compare your score!


________________________
Best Facebook spam ever.

Ugg-tacular

I don't do "trendy," so I never considered even looking at buying a pair of Ugg boots.

I had no idea what I was missing.

I got the most uggsome boots from my sister in law for Christmas.

They're comfy and warm and soft and I want to live in them for the whole winter. I went out on a bitter cold bluserty day, bundled in layers with hat and scarf, and the only parts of me that wasn't frigid were my toasty feet.

Click to see the soft prettyness; I have the darker brown.

I heart my Uggs.

A Challenge...

Over at his Dilbert blog, Scott Adams posted an interesting question:

Suppose you had to pick one word to describe yourself. Your first reaction, I assume, is that it is impossible. You are so many different things, in so many different contexts. No one word can capture more than a tiny slice.

Now suppose I ask you to think of people you know, and see how many of them you can describe in one word. Suddenly it gets a lot easier. He’s a jerk, she’s hot, he’s a loser, she’s a nerd, etc. This exercise only gets hard when you apply it to yourself. Let’s test this theory. Today’s challenge is to come up with:

1. One word to describe yourself

2. One word to describe me (since I’m the only one you all sort of know)

The only rule is that people who have survived some terrible illness or situation can’t pick “survivor” as their one word. Too easy.

Go

Now since I'm not Scott Adams, I don't expect my readers to come up with a single word they think describes me based upon my ramblings on this site. And frankly, I'm a little afraid to hear what that word would be.

But I would be curious as to how you describe yourselves.

In one word.

(Excluding "survivor")

Go!

(I'll play too, in the comments later this week... also, I guess this hasn't really kicked in yet, huh?)

Sing it!

There are amazing things on the internet, but this is the coolest thing I have seen . . . possibly ever.

How I am feeling right now, as sung by Chris Isaak, the Doobie Brothers, Judas Priest, Aha! and others.

You must turn up the sound and click!


(Try typing, "Is this fair use of copy righted material" for Simon and Garfunkel and Madonna!)

Superpowers

I was driving northbound on a road (one lane north, one lane south) bordered on both sides by lots of industrial parks and businesses that attract truck traffic. I drive this road every morning.

With his view totally unobstructed by residential shrubbery or anything else, a truck driver nearly drove into me broadside when pulling out of a parking lot.

Only reasonable explanation: I am invisible, or my massive 15 year old Chrysler* has an invisibility shield that I just activated.

I have to find a use for these new superpowers. I'm thinking a crime spree would ding me on the "character and fitness" application for the bar, so any suggestions?



* Yes, my car gets about a block to the gallon.

DILS?

I was just wondering about Dads in Law School. Any read this blog?

Do you run across any of the same issues that the MILS write about?

Does a DILS ever agonize between going to class and staying home with a not-quite-sure-if-he's-sick kid?

Do DILS ever feel guilty for going to school? Or feel like their missing out on some wonderful moments with their child while they hide in the basement and study on a Sunday afternoon?

Do DILS ever feel selfish? Conflicted? Fulfilled? Frightened? Resentful?

Back to Frivolity

Lag Liv's baby is home.

I heart marketing

I've mentioned on the blog before that I'm... well lets say heavy. Cuz morbidly obese has a kind of stigma associated with it, so lets not say that. I have recently lost 10 pounds, but that's a drop in the bucket . . . not even noticeable, really. Still working on it...

Anyway, I shop at L*ne Bry*nt because I can find my size there consistently and I generally like the clothes.

They have this new jeans-size thing, where you're measured, color-coded based on your waist to hip ratio (i.e. how much junk you got in the trunk), and numbered.

But get this -- the numbers start at 1. That's right -- you can be like 300 pounds on a 5 foot frame and be like a size 7 in the new LB.

Psychologically . . . awesome.

Because I am a size 3.

If I didn't already shop there, I'd totally shop there! Pure marketing genius.

Dicta, I'm sure, will have something snarky to say about this.

I haven't laughed like this since

. . . my classmate told me to never get condoms at the free clinic because they're "skinny" and look like skullcaps when put on.

Which, though probably good advice generally, is less relevant to me than one might think.

Anyway, today's Marmaduke Explained cracked me up.

I can has no cheezburger

Confession.

I don't get Lolcats.

I don't know if that makes me tragically unhip, utterly uncool, or merely mildly socially awkward.

But I just don't get it.

Ok, some of the Barzam related ones were amusing -- I saw them hosted on someone's law blog somewhere once a while ago and am too lazy to search, sorry. But they were only amusing in the law-student-geeky-I-find-adverse-possession-jokes funny way. Not in the "wow that cat picture with the atrocious spelling is a riot" way. Hai?

If someone can explain the appeal, I would be grateful. Though I imagine that it is the kind of "funny" (if funny it actually is) that evaporates once you try to explain the mechanics of the humor. For example, I find this strip hilarious, but wouldn't want to have to explain it to my mom.

Maybe I'm too old for Lolcats?

Whatever, I'm gonna "poke" some folks on Facebook and update my Myspace profile to include random youtube videos of people who fall down stairs and clips from great pop culture icons like Family Guy and Simpsons. Yep. That's totally my plan right now.




Joe Mathlete did a rant about Lolcats that prompted this post. His quote about the almost "pornographic" misspelling had me LOLing. Here.

With a bullet

Hasn't been a substantive post here in a while as I too have succumbed to the busyness of the end of summer. So here's what's been going on:

• Last day of summer job is Friday. A summer "by the numbers" is coming later this week or early next. Or never.
• First day of 2L is Monday.
• This sucks.
• I have not bought books yet and if any of my professors think I am reading an assignment for the first day with all I have going on this week, they're high.
• No, I haven't heard from Law Review yet. Think I should hear next week.
• I haven't heard back from any firms to whom I've submitted resumes for OCI, but then no one has yet . . . way to go [Myschool].
• We took Clownfish to a much bigger museum than our local one to see more dinosaurs. I think he would ahve liked it better if it had been less crowded, if he'd had his nap, and if we would have let him run loose to explore at his own speed. But it was ok.
• Clownfish is staying at Grandma's this week, so Bullshark and I went to the movies last night.
• Bourne Ultimatum does suffer from a distinct lack of ultimatums (hat tip Zuska and Ismael for beating me to that observation). It was a good movie but there was one part that just struck me as totally unbelievable. . . the scene with the East River. Oh, no, not a that part -- I am willing to suspend incredulity for the plot . . . I mean the fact that anything in the East River was visible at more than 6 inches.

Ok, that's about that.

Oh, its Bullshark's birthday tomorrow and I'll be at a firm event until late, so I guess he's having a disappointing end of summer too.

Reactionary

Parolee kills in a quiet neighborhood. Its time to overhaul the parole system.

A bridge collapses in the Mississippi. Its time to overhaul the bridge review system or whatever. And lets throw some money at that problem.

Planes fly into the World Trade Center. Guess we'd better overhaul the intelligence agencies and create a new one to make sure the other ones are playing nice.

Anyone else feel like we do a really good job locking the barn after the horses have escaped?

For all my friends taking the bar

This will keep your toes tapping through the entire exam, especially as it worms its way into your brain and takes up residence right where your understanding of interpleader should be.



Manamana.

Kick Barzam ass.

Hat tip Annonymous Law Student.

4th of July randomness

I haven't seen any fireworks yet this year. And I probably won't see any tonight.

My neighbors really had a blast setting off illegal-loud-banging-firecrackers 12 feet from my sleeping child's window last night. Bastards.

One of the first blogs I read before I started law school is back. She was writing about the Bar then. She is writing about her life now. A lot can happen in a year, and she has one of my favorite voices in the sphere. Welcome back WWFD.

I am linking also to an old post of hers because it is essential that I prepare to be ignored during OCI.

Speaking of OCI, my fellow summers from Ivy League Law are getting ready for OCI by preparing spreadsheets during their downtime. Huge, detailed spreadsheets. I hear them muttering about prestige ratings and number of partners devoted to x practice and billables and minimum GPAs. Since there are many fewer firms coming to my school, and even fewer that I might actually be interested in, I don't think I need a spreadsheet. Back of an envelope should do just fine.

I like my summer job more than I thought I would but I am pretty sure I would not dig it or the commute every day if it were my real life. I had that thought this morning while blissfully not commuting.

Overheard at a wine tasting

Host slash wine-expert opined:

When you taste this one, it will give you wood.

Billing time

Sent to me by a fellow summer associate. . . ahh, legal humor.

Sister Polyester

I recently re-visited my Catholic elementary school for reasons that defy explanation, so I won't even bother. Amazingly, many of the nuns who seemed ancient when I was a child are still alive and teaching.

And they're wearing the same 1970s polyester outfits.

I can always recognize a nun when she's out in plainclothes because most of the sisters I've known dress that way daily. There is a definable quality to sister-fashion -- the short-hair, the neutral/muted/cool shades of the skirt-and-jacket polyester combination, the sensible shoes, the white blouse -- they're all give-aways, long before I see the cross.

Also, in a random religious-clothing-moment . . . I passed about a dozen Buddhist monks on the sidewalk yesterday. Either that or orange is the new black. True story.

If you're expecting this post to have a point, you clearly haven't been reading very long.