Slice of Pink

Somebody Get Me a Cocktail

Round Three

Risin' up, back on the street
Did my time, took my chances
Went the distance, now I'm back on my feet
Just a girl and her will to survive

Last day of the California Bar Exam! Last Day!

Cornermen (and women), you've stuck with me through the blood and guts, I need just one more day (just eight more hours) of your positive energy. I'm a little beat up, but I'm about to swing the Sunday Punch.

Going the Distance

It's Day Two of the California Bar Exam and everything I needed from you yesterday, I need twice as much of today. Bring it y'all.

Knocking It Out

It's Day One of the California Bar Exam and people, I need you. I need your prayers and good thoughts and big wishes and rays of sunshine and crossed fingers and whatever else you got.

I'm gonna knock this thing out, but I need you in my corner.

Good Company

What do these ladies have in common?

(Other than being First Ladies.)

(Other than being brilliant.)

(Other than gracing the cover of Vogue.)

(Other than being married to democrats.)

(Other than being successful lawyers.)

Other than all that?

Oh, well, you see, the thing is:

THEY BOTH FAILED THE BAR EXAM.

Yes.

Which, using my stellar logical reasoning, means that, in less than two weeks, my fate will be sealed. I will turn in the test that will determine whether I will be a lawyer OR THE FIRST LADY OF THE UNITED STATES. I've got myself a democrat, now I just need to land a Vogue cover.

(P.S. I will totally be going with Mrs. O couture. No pantsuits for this girl (whether First Lady or lawyer).)

Party on My Head

A graduation hairstyle is a complicated matter, mainly because it must work with a mortar board and, let's be real, a mortar board is not exactly the most fashionable of head attire.

I originally planned to wear my hair straight and slightly flipped out in a sort of retro 60s 'do, which I thought would look cute with the silly graduation hat, but I failed to blow-dry my hair and it dried naturally with an awkward kink down the back. And so I curled it, which only made matters worse because the hat effectively smashed down the top but poufed out the sides into something closely resembling Bozo the Clown.

And so I called in my sister. I could tell by the look on her face that this was a disaster, a real emergency hair situation. I hopefully suggested a side ponytail. Here's the thing: I have been growing out my hair for months for one reason, to be able to do a side ponytail, one something like the hairstyle worn by Jen at my cousin Katie's wedding.

So my sister got to work with hair pins and a couple of clips and a whole bottle of hairspray and a big flower from the bow department at Papyrus and voila!

Shannon describes the style as "a party on your head!"

I'm not sure if I can even describe how to do it, but I'll try. First of all, do not use a rubber band, particularly if your hair is relatively short. My first instinct was to pull all my hair over to the side and tie it in a elastic band, an effort that made it look more like this. So, maybe this shouldn't be referred to as a side ponytail at all, although I'm not sure what else one would call it. Except a party on your head, but one that is classy. This style is much more a wine and cheese soiree on your head than it is a college kegger on your head.

So, to create a classy party on your head, start low on one side of your head and loosely twist the hair over to the other side, using bobby pins to secure it in place as you go. Then, from the front, on the ponytail side, use a couple of pins to secure back a few loose strands. Add a flower, if that's your thing (it's my thing).

It's actually pretty simple and stayed put the entire evening. I might even be able to recreate it, if I had someplace fancy to go. I'm not sure a party on your head is appropriate for a trip to Target.

A thousand thanks to my sister for being my personal stylist.

Slice of Pink, J.D.

The Final Final

I took my final final this morning, the last test of my law school career. It was just a measly two hour jaunt, nothing like some of the ridiculous exams I've taken in the past few years, and the whole thing was over by 11 AM at which time I took myself downtown for a beer. And some fries. And a giant slice of pizza.

And then I rode my bike home and took a well-deserved nap. Like, a three-year-in-the-making nap. Don't get me wrong, I've had plenty of naps in the last three years, but this was the first nap I've taken where there wasn't something to do when I woke up. No pages to read. Nothing to write. No outlines to make (this is where I start to dramatize the situation since I never actually made outlines, but you know what I mean).

This was a nap without an alarm clock and, let me tell you, it was good.

We Don't Sweat, We Percolate

Early this morning, the coffee cart at the law school burned to the ground. (If you watched the law school movie, this would be the same coffee cart where I got a job as general counsel).

Soon after, we received an email from the Dean:

I'm truly sad to tell you that, early this morning, the coffee kiosk in front of King Hall caught fire and, unfortunately, was destroyed...As you know, today is the first day of exams. While it's difficult at a time like this, right now we do plan to proceed with exams as scheduled. Of course, we will let you know immediately if there are any changes to the exam schedule.

People, law students take their coffee pretty seriously.

In fact, an hour or so later, another email arrived from the Dean's office:

Good morning students ~ please enjoy a cup of coffee, available in the Library Lobby, compliments of the Dean’s Office. Good luck on your exams!

I think they feared rebellion.

The Art of Small Living

I'm thinking about moving to the beach.

No, to be more precise: I'm moving to the beach (getting a little The Secret on you there, but you know).

I've been communicating with a lawyer at the beach and he pointed out that it's very, very expensive to live at the beach and the salaries tend to be lower, so I might want to consider commuting in.

I think he underestimates just how small of place I'm willing to live in, in exchange for breathing in the salty sea air.

There is, after all, a reason why the good Swedes made IKEA.

And In The End

At the end of my first year of law school, I wrote this:

I don't really have anything profound to say about law school. You read some stuff, memorize some stuff, put some stuff on paper, have a glass of wine, and hope for the best. It was hard, yes. It was a boatload of crap to learn, yes. But it wasn't that bad. I mean, I didn't die. I didn't even lose much sleep.

And, in the end, there was cheap wine and a tub of sangria and five law students playing Billie Jean in the summer sun. Not a bad time at all.

Today was my last official day of law school classes. I still have finals, so it's not like I'm completely in the clear yet. And, then, of course, there's the California Bar Exam.

In other words, I'm done.

Except not really done at all.

Still, I think I should say something at this moment in time and what I am going to say is this: it's really been a grand ol' time. On Saturday, Will and I rode our bikes downtown to a bar and listened to music by the same law school band we listened to at the end of the first year, The Depraved Hearts. There was dancing and laughing and a floor so sticky it pulled the shoes off my feet. There was some Bon Jovi and a giant pink wig and some quality PBR. There were some 2 a.m. pancakes at IHOP.

I still don't have anything profound to say about law school (you read some stuff, memorize some stuff, put some stuff on paper, have a glass of wine), but what I can say is this: it wasn't a bad time at all. In fact, it was pretty damn good.

The Last Opportunity

Well, the movie made it to You Tube! It's chock full of law school jokes, generally, and King Hall jokes, in particular so I just want to warn you: some of this might not make any sense at all. But, if you are interested in what makes a bunch of law students laugh or if you want to check out my stellar acting skillz, here it is! Get some popcorn.

You can, of course, watch these in a larger format by clicking through to You Tube.

You may have questions after watching this (i.e. what IS a Witkin, anyway?). If so, leave them in the comments and I'll be happy to provide answers!

Stardom

Last night I put on some sequins, put my hair in an up-do, and attended the premiere of the annual law school movie.

In the film, I play the role of a pathetic third year law student, who has no job, no boyfriend, and terrible grades. After realizing that my life is in shambles, I send out a signal to the Lambda Law Association (dubbed the "gay mafia" in the film) and a band of sharply dressed men and women arrive, Reservoir Dogs style, and teach me to "love my fabulous self."

Me! On the big screen!

My director extraordinaire, Lowell, who kept referring to me as "The Star" until I finally was like, OKAY FINE, I'LL EMBRACE THE STARDOM. Sheesh. Now somebody go get me a cocktail.

Rob, the man who played opposite me as my annoying 1L boyfriend. He is not annoying in real life and I obviously am not trying to find a boyfriend in real life, which means we had to bring our best acting skills. And, more importantly, Lowell had to bring his very best editing skills (case in point: Rob and I filmed an almost-kiss scene in the computer lab, but that scene was ultimately cut, presumably because our best acting skills were not so great).

Also, that there would be a champagne glass full of beer. Yes. Classy, I know.

We had a superb time.

And, finally, somebody you may already know: The Mawker, who superbly produced the film.

Making the film was so much fun. I'm not sure if it will ever make it to YouTube. There are some Copyright issues with music and whatnot and it would be, ahem, illegal to post it. We ARE law students, after all, so we care about these types of things. BUT! I will get a DVD, so come on over for popcorn and champagne (or cheap beer in a champagne glass, if you prefer).

Roll Out the Red Carpet

I've been ultra busy lately, doing VERY IMPORTANT law school things such as, you know, filming the annual law school movie. This will be the second film I have appeared in and, although my acting has not improved at all, my role is substantially more prominent. I can't tell you any details about the film yet because it's in the top-secret post production stage and it won't debut until next Wednesday night.

I'm not sure if it will ever be available online, but I will definitely let you know if it shows up on YouTube or something. Maybe if we all ask Lowell, my amazing director, very, very nicely, he'll post a clip.

And, also! You can visit the blog of the talented and fabulous Victoria who wrote the script for the movie and convinced me to play the female protagonist. She also spent loads of time operating the boom (the fancy term for holding the microphone in my face), read lines with me, and doled out plenty of encouragement. She did NOT hire me an assistant to pick up my lattes and carry my wardrobe changes, but I am going to let that one slide. This time.

On Mothering

I spent the weekend in Denver, where I was speaking at an academic conference. The conference topic was Motherhood: Reclaiming our Past-Transforming our Future and you might be wondering what I was doing at an academic conference discussing motherhood. With the exception of the two men, I am pretty certain that I was the only non-mother at the entire conference (and, at least the men were probably fathers). Seems to me that people who are mothers like attending conferences on motherhood (you don't say!) and, not only was I attending the conference as a non-mother, I was speaking at it.

Oh. And the panel on which I was speaking? Judging Mothers, Judging Home. Hooweee. Here's one thing I know for sure: mothers do not like being judged and they especially don't like being judged by non-mothers. Luckily, my talk sided with the mothers, so it went over well enough.

There was also good wine and plenty of it. If there's anything that can turn an academic private school vs. public school debate into a rollicking good time, it's a great pinot noir. There's my advice to you, mothers: find a great pinot. Take it or leave it.

Workin' It

For the annual law school charity auction, I teamed up with two friends to create a gallery of photos of our professors. We visited the university's theater department to borrow several crazy hats and glasses and convinced Will to borrow two big bags of hats from the high school theater department. We set up a makeshift studio at the law school and took a set of dazzling, jovial headshots of the professors in fake mustaches, top hats, feather boas, glittered masks, and other regalia. The end result was fabulous, far better than I expected, and the twenty framed 5x7 photos brought in nearly $900 for charity (three or four times our expected profits!).

I can't share the professor photos with you--we advertised them as ultra-exclusive and it would defeat the exclusivity if people could just print them right off the Internet. Plus, because the series was so popular, we have a plan in the works to print little books for student's to purchase.

But, I can share with you some jems. Before the professors arrived, I used my lovely friends to test the lighting, costumes, and camera settings (and, even after the testing had concluded, just to have some fun).

Our first model, Mary, sporting top hat, feather boa, and mustache.

Shannon posing in a gorgeous vintage feathered hat (that I SO wanted to keep) and a bowler.

Michelle, glittered.

Jennifer, our photo shoot stylist, testing the giant sombrero. Olé! She expertly styled the professors in getups that were fabulously amusing without being (too) humiliating.

Katie, our photo shoot director, joined Mary for some adorable shots. Katie was the impetus behind the whole series. She convinced me that we had to do this, communicated with the professors and theater department, showed up with an awesome playlist of photo shoot tunes, and adeptly put out every fire that arose so that Jen and I could focus on our creative vision.

{Side note: I SO need a life director. Somebody to direct my affairs so I can focus on my creative life vision.}

And, finally, yours truly, the series photographer. I got out from behind the camera for two minutes to have my photo taken. I was wearing a black turtleneck, of course, which created this floating head effect.

Our fun advertising campaign is after the jump.

Feeling The Fear

I didn't get The Fear this year until pretty late in the game. The Fear? Oh, yes, The Fear. The Fear rears its ugly head sometime in the weeks before finals begin when you realize that, OH YOUR HOLY HELL, you have 3,000 pages of reading to do and 300 statues to memorize and 3 bazillion flash cards to make and, like, 3 weeks to do it all. And then The Fear sticks around until the last day of finals when you deal with The Fear with The Cure. Which is wine. And lots of it. The Fear lingers until grades are released because no matter how well you do on a law school final, it feels like you failed miserably.

So, The Fear came late this year and, truth be told, it's not as acute as usual. I still have the 3,000 pages of reading to do and 300 statues to memorize and 3 bazillion flash cards to make, but I'm kinda feeling "oh whatever" about it all. I'm still studying like mad, making all sort of ridiculous flow charts and quasi-outlines, but I've also decided to put up the Christmas tree, an endeavor that The Fear essentially cancelled the past two years.

So, I'm here reading thick textbooks, but I'm also gonna put up some garland and play some Christmas tunes and invite The Fear in for some eggnog.

Lawyering

I am happy to report that I am gainfully(ish) employed for the next eight weeks.

This "having a job" thing is quite nice. I ride a commuter bus with lots of other lawyers to my office in the city, where I sit for 7 hours each day doing all sorts of lawyerly things, including, but not limited to: sending things to the typist to type up for me, drinking coffee, and watching the news on my very own office television (to which there is a remote, even though the TV is, literally, 15 inches from my face).

I have enough desk space for two other people to move in with me, but there's only room for one fancy engraved placard on the wall outside the door and it has my name on it.

Actual Things Written in My Notes for Thursday's Exam

"THREE THINGS: [1] Public Agency Action [2] Discretionary Action [3] Ma"

"Vested rights something something reliance"

"Party & beer @ 264 2nd Street. Code: Mr. Magoo."

Legal Advice: Shut Up

Dudes, invoke your Miranda rights when they are offered.

Going Once, Going Twice

Last night, Will and I attended the Law School auction, an annual event to raise funds for students working in public interest fields. There were hundreds of items to bid on, from ski trips to oil changes.

The alcohol at the event is all-you-can-drink and is poured by student volunteers who fill your glass right to the very brim. I think the alcohol serves a very important purpose and that purpose is to increase the amount of money people are willing to spend on things they don't really need.

Case in point: last night somebody paid $200 for a year's use of the law school library's rubber band ball.

Singing Valentine

Law Capella, the law school's a cappella group, delivered singing Valentines to professors and students yesterday. See! Law school isn't just boring laws and cases everyday.

Although, I have to admit, this song was delivered to a professor and the gram was supposedly from a hypothetical character that we were making incredibly boring hypothetical campaign finance reports for. I don't think that the hypothetical character was really calling to "say I love you" so much as an actual student was paying five dollars to break up class time with song.

Baby Einstein, 1980s Style

Although I will be spending the next couple of weeks attempting to learn all about the law, I didn't want to completely ditch y'all. So, while I was visiting my mom over Thanksgiving, I snagged a bunch of photos from her albums, ranging from the time I was a baby to my high school prom. Are you excited?

My mom gives herself credit for my "smarts" because when I was a baby she would pin up patterns (i.e. pot holders and yarn) for me to look at.

I only wish she would have pinned up a copy of the Copyright Act. Then we'd be talking.

Con Law and Christmas Cards

Oh dear. Finals are on the horizon and I'm wondering if it is possible to learn 16 weeks of Constitutional Law in, oh, about 10 days. Plus, you know, several other classes of information and also getting eight hours of sleep per night (required) and finding 30 seconds to eat a Pop-tart from a vending machine.

Although I will effectively fall off the planet for the next two weeks, I do have an administrative tasks to take care of before I go: holiday cards.

Maybe I'll send holiday cards. Maybe after my last final, I'll just drink two bottles of wine and crawl into bed to sleep for three days straight. There's really no way to predict.

But, should I feel inspired (and by inspired, I mean putting in an order to Costco and printing some labels), I'll be sending some cards around, say, December 23.

So, if you regularly get a card from me, but you've gone and moved or changed your name, legally or not, please send your updated info to my email.

Also, if you don't get a holiday card from me, but would really like to find a holiday photo in your mailbox three or four days after the holidays have already passed, let me know that, too. I'm at sliceofpink at gmail dot com.

Feel free to email outlines on First Amendment Rights and Equal Protection, too. Please.

9 PM on a Friday Night

Finals are rapidly approaching. If this is any indication:

One week ago, at 9 PM on Friday night, Michelle and I were grabbing a snack at a local bistro after visiting several art galleries where we sipped on tiny glasses of wine and ate bits of peppermint bark.

Last night at 9 PM, we were sitting in the dreary law school basement, drinking coffee, and attempting to interpret 16 weeks of crappy note taking.

What a sad, sad state of affairs.

Who's the Boss?

I'm a bit behind on tasks because, well, um, see, the thing is that, um, Desperate Housewives sorta arrived from Netflix today. Having no TV puts me way out of the loop on all things televised, so obviously I have totally missed the boat on saying this, but hello! That show is seriously ridiculous and, no doubt, I could waste all evening watching to find out some very important things. For instance, will Mike wake up from the coma? Did Orsen kill his wife? Will Gabby and Carlos get back together? 

Wait! Don't tell me! I know y'all already know the answers to those questions because you watch these things about 18 months before me. You've already moved on to some shows called Project Runway and The Bachelor, which I have never seen but which many of you post about quite frequently. 

In any event, I'm now all behind with a growing to-do list.  Seriously? Being a law student? You can get humorlessly behind in a mere three hours. It's, like, magic. I am pretty sure my to-list just doubled in the ten minutes I've been writing this post. It is now eight pages long. Typed. Single-spaced.

So, here's the plan. Tomorrow, I'll be reporting in to you each hour. My goal is to accomplish two tasks per hour, minimum, with the exception of the three hours I am in class (during which time I will report that I am, um, in class). Look at me being all accountable!  Plus, you will get a peek into the day of a law student. How terribly exciting for you. Heh. 

If I forget to check in, y'all need to email me and be like, Yo! Get off your email and get crackin' on that list Pink! But, if I am doing a good job, being all task-oriented and super productive, you can be like, Keep up the good work, you super stellar student! In other words, Internet, I need you to be my boss.

Legally Sweet

Amy Atlas is a lawyer-turned-event-planner, who specializes in fabulous dessert tables all loaded up with licorice mints, dusted truffles, swirly meringues, and candy apples. In other words, she is my idol.

 

The question is whether she accepts summer interns and, if so, where do I apply? 

 

Movin' On Up

Two important notes on my professional life:

1. The restroom at my fall externship has four soap choices, three lotion choices, and a bottle of Palmolive. It's practically a Bath and Body Works, with a variety of fragrances including cherry blossom, green tea, milk and honey, lavender, and lemon.

2. I got business cards! Do you know what this means? It means that I have 500 opportunities to enter those fantastic "win-a free-coffee" contests at all the local coffee shops. 

Juggling

So law school is back in session this week and it would have been no big deal except that this is also the week that I had to:

a) purchase Ikea furniture 

b) assemble Ikea furniture

c) rearrange furniture

d) participate in the law school fashion show

e) watch the convention 

f) add and drop some classes 

g) go to a job interview

h) greet the first-year students

i) start an art club

j) karaoke* 

It won't always be so hectic. No, wait, it will always be so hectic, that is how I design my life, but rest assured that I will be back to more regular blogging pronto. In fact, I will be posting my final entry for the Whip It Up Challenge tonight** and this time I am going ALL GOURMET. I even bought a new cookbook, that's how great this entry is going to be. 

* Journey, Don't Stop Believing

** Or tomorrow. I might go get Sangria tonight with Michelle, in which case, definitely tomorrow.

To Clarify

Aren't you afraid of going into law?

No, not really. Why would I be afraid?

You know, you'll have to deal with criminals and stuff.

Well, maybe. But, so?

And, like, aren't you afraid to carry a gun and have to arrest people?

Dude, I am going into law. Not law enforcement.

The Light at the End of the Tunnel

I finished my first year of law school last week and I feel like I should have something to say about that. You know, something to sum up what it means, exactly, to spend nine months learning the law. Something profound, maybe, or at least thoughtful.

My eyesight is worse. There is that.

I swore that I was not going to drink anything after my last test on Thursday, but when I went downtown for lunch with some friends, the restaurant had a bottle of wine on special for $10. Somehow, Michelle and I were the only ones who partook of that bottle, polishing it off at 2 in the afternoon. Before I knew it, we were dancing to an 80s cover band in a backyard. It was hot and there was a tub of sangria. The cops shut down the band just after a solid performance of Billy Idol's Dancing with Myself. 

Law school is a pretty good time, I guess.

There were some stressful days in there, for sure, some days when I was the teensiest bit afraid that the proctor would place an exam in front of me and I would have no idea what the question was asking, no idea what to type about for two long hours. Thankfully, this did not happen. The words on the exams--exams which account for 100 percent of our final grades--all made sense. Somehow, I knew the rule against perpetuities and preemption and some of the rules of civil procedure, at least the ones that matter.

I don't really have anything profound to say about law school. You read some stuff, memorize some stuff, put some stuff on paper, have a glass of wine, and hope for the best. It was hard, yes. It was a boatload of crap to learn, yes. But it wasn't that bad. I mean, I didn't die. I didn't even lose much sleep. 

And, in the end, there was cheap wine and a tub of sangria and five law students playing Billie Jean in the summer sun. Not a bad time at all.

We the People

I just want to let you know that I have not been out having fun, exploring the world, experiencing post-worthy things. Oh no. I have been sitting and learning Constitutional Law and, perhaps more importantly, trying to squeeze as much information as possible on the one sheet of notes we are allowed to bring into the final exam tomorrow. Three words: six point font.

Oh! Don't worry. We didn't read the whole book. We just read to page 1043. That's all. No biggie.

Who is the What is the Where?

I'm frantically studying for Constitutional law, the next final on the calendar, and I swear to gumdrops, I found this very profound sentence in my notes:

plus, who was for the what?

Somehow, I don't think that this will earn me any points on the exam.

Legislating Your Look

Real California laws, proving that we really are just as superficial as we seem:

Persons classified as “ugly” may not walk down any street. {San Francisco, CA}

You are not permitted to wear cowboy boots unless you already own at least two cows. {Blythe, CA}

Zoot suits are prohibited. {Los Angeles, CA}

(From Dumb Laws)

On Bullshit, Legal Style

I lose¹ every single game of Masterpiece² that I play³.

---------------------------------
¹Noting that, on Saturday, I came in last or second to last in the games I played.
²Parker Brothers, Masterpiece: The Art Auction Game (1970), available at Amazon.
³Despite the fact that I can name the titles, artists, and dates of all of the artworks. I thought I was going to be superb at the game. Apparently, I am unable to properly manage my assets. Big surprise, eh?

Contracts and Cupcakes

A few months ago, Michelle and I joking decided to open our own practice upon graduation from law school. Our business would be called "Contracts and Cupcakes" and you could come on down and get yourself a contract while enjoying a scrumptious cupcake and a tall glass of milk in our bakery-styled law firm. Because wouldn't that be so much more fun than getting a contract at a boring old law office where everyone is all stuffy and dull, wearing suits rather than polka-dotted aprons?

Today, we practiced our baking in a five-hour baking spectacular.

Michelle did most of the difficult tasks including working the cookie press and running the hand mixer.

I pressed the Reese's into the peanut butter cookies. You guys, I am seriously really good at those peanut butter cookies.

In the end, we decided it was all an awful lot of work. Plus, we ate about a million of the little treats. So now what we are thinking is this: Wine and Wills. You come on down and get yourself a will, we'll serve it up with a nice glass of pinot noir.

Trivial Pursuit

My law schooling skillz came in handy this week when my mom sent me an email, asking me to do some research on a New Jersey law. I did the work and put together a responding email discussing the law briefly and then the specific effects of that law in New Jersey. At the end of the email, I asked my mom why she needed all that information on the law.

I got her response this morning: the New Jersey law had been the basis of a question on the television game show, Cash Cab, and she hadn't known the answer.

Should you ever be on that Millionaire game show and need to know about the New Jersey Blue Law, you can phone me with one of your lifelines.

Answering game show trivia questions: three years of law school--and $120,000--well spent.

Baked Bliss

On Friday night, I attended one of the biggest law school events of the year--the annual auction. There was free wine and appetizers and a million items to bid on, ranging from the fabulous (gourmet meals, trips) to the bizarre (rubber band balls, body piercing). I drank a considerable amount of the free wine and bid on a few items here and there, although I was mostly outbid because I failed to keep track of the things I was bidding on, so as to check back before the bidding closed.

Although a majority of the auction items were donated by professors and local businesses, the club organizing the auction also solicited student donations--things like guitar lessons, a homemade pie, a break-up phone call, or dog sitting.

Michelle and I, best law school friends forever, decided that we would donate something together. In Civil Procedure we decided that the something would be a basket of baked goods. Four dozen sweet treats baked with love and tied with a pretty pink bow. I know. I know. What was I thinking?

The basket--the basket which is not currently in existence--went for over $30. The recipient has one month to redeem his certificate for this "basket of baked bliss"--we actually used that word, bliss, insinuating that not only would we bake up the goodies, but that they would be glorious and divine--and when he does, Michelle and I are gonna need to learn to bake up some bliss.

Just in time, the new Food Blog Search is available and I'm gonna type in "Bliss" and see what comes up.

How about you? Got any blissful bake sale recipes that don't require fancy things like chiffoning or ganaching or marzipaning? I mean, obviously, we will be making the peanut butter cup cups, but somehow I think we are going to need something more than a tube of cookie dough and a bag of Reese's to get out of this mess.

Things Law Students Do at Lunch in the Lounge

1. Play MASH
2. Discuss the plot of The Indian in the Cupboard
3. Sleep
4. Translate bad words into foreign languages
5. Critique episodes of Saved by the Bell

It's practically junior high school.

25 Grand Well Spent

My friend Alan emailed me this totally blogworthy clipping from a law student magazine:

Student fees hard at work.

Countdown

Today I took my criminal law final. It was, um, what's the right word? Hard. Hellish. Complicated. Oh, how about Fucked Up. Yep, that about covers it. Although you all have lovely manners and would never do anything naughty, should you decide to kill somebody, you had better hire somebody else to represent you. If you hire me, you can then keep me on staff to decorate your cell.

(Okay, so this is a bit over dramatic. It wasn't that bad. But it wasn't a picnic in the park either and I, being bored, am creating excitement and dramatics for your (and my) benefit. I typed away for three hours on the test and I can honestly say that I have no idea what I talked about--it could have been good, it could have been bad. It could have been about gothic cathedrals, for all I know, although I am reasonably sure I stuck to murder. For the most part, anyway.)

It's now on to Contracts and the only thing keeping me going, the only thing keeping me plugging away, is that if I live, I will get to go to Ikea. Only four more days with this pile of books and I will be free to eat meatballs and fill up my cart with cheap glassware and various utensils.

I will be doing most of my Christmas shopping at Ikea, with the remainder of the gifts being purchased at the grocery store, in an amazing one-day, two-store shopping blowout. I have only purchased one gift so far--some gears toy for Drew which has about a million little parts for him to scatter all over Kathryn's house (am I an awesome friend or what?)--and I ordered it during the summer so I don't think it technically counts.

In summary, this is what happens to you when you go to law school:

a) All you have to talk about is law school
b) You over-dramatize and over-analyze
c) You discover that the grocery store is full of great gifts*
d) You look forward to an hour in a retail chain
e) Christmas? Already? Oh, god, am I in some trouble.

*Hello! Wine, beer, champagne, cans of nuts, good chocolate, candles, vodka, Baileys, Us Weekly, Jello, Nutella, peppermint ice cream, hot fudge, cat food. See what I mean? One stop shopping with something for everyone.

Conspicuous by My Absence

The last week or so has been a bit dull. Everyday I think about how I would like to write something for you, but the only things in my head right now, during this law school finals time, are things like joint tortfeasors and negligence and assumption of the risk. I could tell you all about these things but, trust me, your eyes would glaze over after about two sentences and you would never come to visit me again. I can tell I'm already about to lose you.

After our first final today, we all stood in the hallway, partially defeated, partially ebullient, and finally decided to go have a drink. Michelle and I ordered a bottle of Riesling and proceeded to get nice and tipsy at two in the afternoon, after which I called my mom and talked to her for 20 minutes about my cat and then Will and I sent out some holiday cards.

It's a right jolly good time around here.

Case by Case

Here are some quotes taken directly from actual cases we discussed in law school today.

Contracts:

"Shortly after the sign was installed, somebody hit it with a tomato...And that really brings it down to the tomato. And, of course, when a tomato has been splashed all over your clock, you don't like it. But he says he kept calling their attention to it, although the rain probably washed some of the tomato off."

Torts:

"That the setting is indeed a degrading one requires only a glance through the issue of Hustler in which "Robyn Douglass Nude" was published to confirm. The cover shows a naked woman straddling and embracing a giant peppermint stick..."

"To evaluate Hustler's contention required the jury to compare the two magazines. We shall use for comparison the issue of Playboy in which the "Ripped-Off" pictorial appeared, though the jury had other issues of Playboy to peruse as well."

"It should be apparent by now that this little niche of the law of privacy is dominated by Larry Flynt publications."

These are the types of cases you want to get when you show up for jury duty.

Raise Your Glass

My friend Michelle and I hosted a Wine & Cheese Extravaganza on Friday night. We went to Trader Joe's after class and bought 8 bottles of wine, 8 types of cheese, plus crackers and all the ingredients for caprese, pumpkin dip, and Michelle's delicious bruschetta.

We were expecting thirty people or so and we were worried--as hostesses are prone to worry--that we wouldn't have enough food and drink.

(You know, somehow, men never have this same concern, considering a 12 pack of beer and a bag of chips sufficient to get the party started. You can always order a pizza, right?)

Of course, we had little to worry about because every single guest brought wine or cheese or wine and cheese or wine and another bottle of wine. Before long there was at least a bottle of wine and a chunk of cheese for every person in attendance.

There are currently five unopened packages of brie in my fridge. But, the wine? It is all gone.

One of the top students in the class puked in the gutter, there are several red wine stains on my hall carpet (spilled by yours truly), and I'm pretty sure the neighbors hate us, but there is a price to pay for being hostesses with the mostesses and we bore the burden. And looked cute doing it.

The photos are here. Cheers!

B is for Blog

It's November.

November means that I have about one month until classes are over and the grueling finals process begins at this place we call law school. It means that I need to begin the process of memorizing all the ways you can get yourself into some big trouble, like by murdering somebody or by scrolling to the end of the contract and clicking "accept" without exercising your duty to read.

November also means something else. It's National Blog Posting Month and, because I like to suffer so, I signed up. You know what this could mean? It could mean that I will post every day in November for you. Every single day. It also probably means that I will earn some Bs on some of my finals. There is a strict forced curve for first year students and only twenty percent of my class can earn the coveted A. Those people certainly don't blog. They stop studying only to pee. They rarely sleep.

But, alas, I will blog. I will blog at the expense of the A. I will do it for you, if you want me to. I need a show of hands. Who says that Slice of Pink should go crazy this November? Who says that, whatever, Bs earn J.D.s, right? Who says that they will hire me in three years....or this summer, even? Anyone? Anyone?

It's gonna take some commenting love to get me off the books and on the blog this November. What do you got to say? Bring it.

Start Your Timers

I've heard some pretty wise people say that if you treat law school like a 9 to 5 job, you'd get along just fine. Maybe you wouldn't get straight As, but you'd have time to watch television and take photographs and sleep and have a life, a real life, outside of the library study room.

For the first six weeks of law school, I found this to be absolutely laughable. Impossible, I thought, absolutely impossible. But then I did a little experiment. It's an experiment that I highly recommend to anyone who feels that there is never enough time in the day to finish all the work that piles up.

The first thing to do is download a chronoTrack. This won't work for you PC people, so you can go wherever it is you go to get Widgets (or gadgets, as you so cleverly refer to them) and get a timer. A regular old stopwatch would also work.

Then, track your time. Only track the time that you are actually being productive. Honestly productive. Turn the timer off when you are checking personal email, peeing, talking to the person in the cubicle next to you about your weekend plans, reading blogs, making an appointment with your hair stylist, searching for a pumpkin cake recipe, or talking on the phone for purely social purposes. No cheating. This isn't for credit, people, so you aren't cheating anybody but yourself.

Let me tell you, I was shocked at how little I was actually getting done in the span of eight hours. Barely fifty percent of my time was truly productive and much of that was only because I was listening to a lecture. It was kind of ridiculous, actually, how much time I wasted. I'm trying to meet the eight hour mark earlier each day and I really think it's helping. I actually, finally, seem to making sense of this thing they call "the law."

Even if your job doesn't require much, it would still be fun to track your time. Wouldn't it be great to know that you get paid for eight hours when you actually only work for two? That's the kind of job you want to keep. Trust me. I've been there and, when I'm sitting in my carrel working towards eight full hours knowing that even THAT will likely fall short of the A mark, I sure do miss that peaceful easy feeling.

This is Your Brain on Law

Yesterday I was at the law building late, working with my group on the last-minute details of a group presentation that we had to make this morning. Toward the end of the evening, I was editing our script and I noticed something fishy. In the script, referring to something that happened this month, the date was stated as October 1, 2008.

2008.

I swear to you, I sat there staring at that date for a full minute and, for the life of me, I could not remember if we were currently in 2007 or 2008.

It was just a stupid typographical error but my brain? It is fried eggs.

Tortalicious

Before law school, among other things, I briefly considered attending culinary school. The idea didn't last long because, the truth is, I know absolutely nothing about cooking or baking. The only recipes I can successfully pull off have Jello and Cool Whip as the main ingredients.

It's a funny thing. I didn't go to culinary school because I know nothing about being in a kitchen. I came to law school because I know so much about the law. For instance, I know that there are laws. And that we should abide by them. And, also, that some things are illegal. Like speeding. And killing people. Also, something about contracts? And wills?

I might as well have gone to culinary school.

Tomorrow is my first law school test. Somehow, I think that it would have been much easier to make a raspberry jam torte than to analyze intentional torts. At least it wouldn't have required any damn typing skills.

Green Eggs and Ham

Will sent me the following article from Yahoo News:

A federal judge was driven to rhyme after receiving a hard-boiled egg in the mail from a prison inmate protesting his diet. U.S. District Court Judge James Muirhead reached for Dr. Seuss' "Green Eggs and Ham" for inspiration after getting the egg from inmate Charles Jay Wolff.

I do not like eggs in the file,
I do not like them in any style.
I will not take them fried or boiled.
I will not take them poached or broiled.
I will not take them soft or scramble,
Despite an argument well-rambled.

He then ordered the egg destroyed:

No fan I am
Of the egg at hand.
Destroy that egg! Today! Today!
Today I say! Without delay!

At the end of the email, Will concluded that the judge "could be you someday." I guess I'll take that as a compliment?

Fine

Well, it's Monday and since I don't, like, have a job or anything, I guess I'll go back to law school.

I mean, I did get an answer wrong last week, but that happens about half a dozen times every day in law school to a half a dozen people so I guess it's all just part of the fun.

I'm fine. Fiiiiiinnne. Do I look fine to you?

Haha. Seriously. It's all good. I'm totally fine.

My husband on the other hand....