Bar Bri is Lame

Actually, I think the class itself will prove to be quite helpful. it's lots of repetition and filling in blanks of sentences to get those concepts stuck in my head. this is apparently the sort of learning that works for me, which may mean that i am a monkey or a gerbil. But I digress.

it's the PEOPLE. the law students. they are so very lame. today was the first day of actual class. it was only a class about what subjects Minnesota tests. nothing substantive. yet there were still over-dramatic groans and people wringing their hands and whining about how they're going to fail.

Also, the class takes place in a disgusting red carpeted wall auditorium at Concordia. Uncomfortable seats and desks that barely come down over my expanding belly. I was informed that I need to show up early if I want a spot in one of the overflow rooms that have actual tables and chairs. This isn't actually a problem since I am always early to everything anyway. But I still think they should reserve a spot at a table for me since in 2-3 weeks, I will literally not be able to use the desks in the main auditorium.

This isn't the end of it, my friends. The next 2 months of postings are probably going to be mostly bitching about law students, law graduates, and way too much homework for summer. And this time I can't blame Falwell.

Posting for Deadbeats

This is the problem: the internet I used to "steal" from my apartment neighbors has been password protected. Fascists. To compound the matter, it is inappropriate to spend a lot of time blogging at work, when the internet is speedy. Hence, I end up with 8 days of postless existence.

But, for now, I would like to wish the Best Wife in the World a fabulous 26th birthday in the Best City in the World.

I am also going to Albuquerque in 2 days for the weekend and a wedding. First time in a new state; first time seeing college friends in 2007; first time stem cell leaves Minnesota. Big weekend.

R.I.P., you hateful little asshole

I generally try to hold the dead in at least some reverence, but upon reading that Jerry Falwell is dead, I only feel a sense of smug gladness. Won't he be surprised at St. Peter's gates (if there are such thing) to find out that Higher Being doesn't groove to intolerance, homophobia, and hatred of liberals. I don't believe in hell, but if I did, I think there would be a special place in it for people who try to pass off hatred and homophobia as Christian values. What a scummy little tool.

I'm glad my kid is going to be born into world with one less homophobe in it.

101 and counting

My great-grandmother is 101 years old. Other than some macular degeneration that has taken most of her eyesight, she is perfectly functional and independent. She lives on her own and has a better memory than I do. Yesterday, at our mother's day celebration, my great-grandma told me that she bought a new large-screen TV set so that she could see her programs (mostly Wheel of Fortune and the Lawrence Welk Show) better.

She proceeded to tell me about her purchasing experience at Best Buy-- she bought the extended warranty, making the TV warrantied for something like 8 years. Again, as I said, she is 101 years old.

I will write more about my graduation later...but, happy as it was, it was nowhere near as amusing as a 101-year-old woman purchasing an extended warranty.

Too Bizarre

I have always been fascinated by people's fascination with what those sentenced to die choose for their last meal. There are whole websites devoted to this subject. One of the meanest and most disturbing things I have come across is a guy being denied one last cigarette. The things people choose for their last meal are bizarre. White cake with frosting. Meat. Pizza is a popular choice, which is expected, I suppose.

I came across this article today. It is almost as disturbing as denying someone a last cigarette.

http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/05/09/execution.pizza/index.html

It is proof that those involved in state-sanctioned murders have lost their sense of humanity, if they ever had any to begin with. The prison can't donate a pizza to a homeless person? They don't have $10 to send the Dominoes guy to the street to deliver a pizza to some random dude? No, of course not. If it's not sodium bicarbonate, they have no interest.

Also, notice that the link is "execution.pizza." The death penalty is one of those things that is not so de moda to be outspokenly against these days, but it remains for me one of the things most abhorrent and embarrassing about this country. Somehow, printing the final menu choices of those sentenced to die is extremely humanizing. Everyone has favorite foods. After reading people's menu choices and particularly seeing what minor requests were denied, I can't imagine anyone still thinking the death penalty can be squared with living in a civilized nation. Ordered liberty my ass.

But, this article also makes me hopeful. Even people in Tennessee believe in the basic humanity of those sentenced to death. Maybe if today they can charge $1200 for pizza, some day they will vote only for candidates that oppose the barbaric practice of state-sanctioned murder altogether. Maybe. But probably not until we "fix" terrorism. I guess it will be awhile.

If I had to pick a final meal it would be cottage cheese, red grapes, and a really kickass burger.

P to the G

I am quite sure that all of my half-dozen readers already know this, but here's the statement for the record: I am knocked up. With child. PG. Preggo. 11 weeks. I had refrained from posting on this until all essential players in my life had been personally informed (read: work folks) but now the jig is up. I must say, it's been sort of weird blogging for the last month without mentioning this very bizarre change in my life.

The blessed child is gender-less to date and is due around Thanksgiving time. There are lots of good stories already, and surely there will be more in the coming months. However, I promise my loyal readers one thing: this will not become a blog devoted only to the week-by-week developments of Little Stemmie Stem Cell. I will continue to weigh in on other important topics like current events, bar exam bullshit, TV, my favorite foods, and things/people I hate and/or love.

So, for now, think how creepy it is for someone to think they're in the room with me but really there's another "person" (not actually a person, but an alien) eavesdropping on every little word. Finally, according to Roisin, Stemmie can only hear her as of yet.