Sunday, January 21, 2007

Fleeting freedom

It's my last day of freedom to do absolutely nothing before classes start again tomorrow. Since coming back from Puerto Rico (and being greeted by 18 degree weather upon getting off the plane), I have split my time between watching tv, sleeping, and eating. It has been a very demanding schedule to keep but I've managed. I think I've watched so much tv that I am almost sick of it -- but not quite. Actually, with this lack of schoolwork hanging over my head, I have had time to do things here in my room that I hadn't had a chance to since law school started: throw away the random scraps of paper that always seem to accumulate in my drawers, make a rather pointless (but fun!) picture slideshow to put on myspace (more fodder for the stalkers, I suppose), spend several hours doing crosswords and watching Curb Your Enthusiasm, and so on.

I also went to the movies TWICE in the last three days. TWICE! This is unheard of. First I saw Notes on a Scandal, with Cate Blanchett and Judi Dench. They are both such great actors, and the movie was good. Chilling and creepy but good. Another highlight was that we saw three Sacramento Kings players in the theater. It's weird to think about NBA players going to the movies, somehow. It must suck for whoever they end up sitting in front of. Last night I went and saw Pan's Labirynth (El Labirinto del Fauno, I think?), which was excellent. I knew as soon as I walked out of the theater, though, that I was going to have crazy-ass dreams thanks to that movie, and sure enough, I did. Damn magical realism.

Yesterday was also a banner day because I went shopping in Boston, another thing I never have time to do. I took the T down to Copley square and went to the mall (since it was so freezing outside I could feel my internal organs frosting over) and found lots of good sales -- so satisfying. Afterwards, feeling that I should do something "historic" since I was in Boston, but not actually wanting to learn anything, I compromised by going to Filene's Basement, a Boston landmark. I guess Filene's used to be better than it is now, but I can see how you could find bargains if you were really willing to look. Even if you don't find great designer labels, everything is marked way down there anyway. I ended up buying a yoga mat ($15, marked down from $25), and one of those pink polo sweaters with the little green polo logo on it. I have never had one of those sweaters before, and it was half off, so I bought it since I live on the east coast now and feel entitled. Since I was buying a polo sweater, I went for it and got the preppiest possible color combo -- pink 'n green. Go big or go home, I say.

It's almost 4 and my last day of freedom is going, going.... almost gone. I must do something lazier immediately. Going to go lie prone on my bed now. More later.

Thursday, January 18, 2007

tienes tremendo.... culo?

Finals are done. Don't worry, I lived.

A few days after our exams ended, a big group of us HLS kids flew down to Puerto Rico for five days of utterly mindless relaxation, replete with lotsa frozen drinks, grilled shrimp, and reggaeton. Maybe a tad too much reggaeton. Our first night out, we went to a club in Old San Juan where they played uninterrupted reggaeton for the ENTIRE time we were there, and still, every time a new song would come on, we'd all think it was "Gasolina." Everyone would perk up and get ready to actually know four words ("dame mas gasoliiiina") to the song, and every time we'd be duped. Damn.

Our next night, we went to a club called Brava where they played non-reggaeton until about 1 am, and then cranked up the CULOOOO. Toward the end of the night, these three guys who were apparantly famous came up on stage -- we're assuming they were famous since all the boricuas went nuts and whipped out cell phones and digital cameras to take pictures of them. They were all wearing shiny jackets and pastel baseball hats and big gold chains, and they just kinda stood there on the stage and threw up signs while their song played. They didn't even lip synch. Some show. I still have no idea who they were, but let's say it was Daddy Yankee, since that is the only reggaeton group I know. Or is Daddy Yankee just one guy? I always just assumed "Daddy" was a collective label for several daddies. Anyway, so yeah, I saw Daddy Yankee in Puerto Rico. It was great.

The rest of our time was spent lazing on the beach, drinking cuba libres and pina coladas, eating fabulous food, and generally being lazy bums and not thinking about school. Speaking of the food -- Puerto Rican cuisine is great. I wasn't sure what to expect, but I imagined it being like Cuban food. Not contemporary Cuban food, as in food you find on the island of Cuba, which mainly consists of hard crackers from the ration store, white rice, black beans, and fried dough balls, but the kind of Cuban food you find in Miami -- pressed pork sandwiches, tostones, congri, probably NOT the plain soy yogurt that Fidel highly recommends... I fear am getting off track here. Okay, so Puerto Rican food. YUM. I think my favorite new thing that I tried was mofongo, which Carlos tells me is actually a Dominican dish, but the Puerto Ricans definitely tried to pass it off as their own. It consists of fried mashed plaintains and garlic stuffed with shrimp, chicken, pork, steak, or seafood.

I'll be real though, a lot of my nourishment in PR consisted of alcoholic beverages and Subway sandwiches on the beach. San Jose is so Americanized. I guess that's to be expected since it's part of, you know, America, but it was sort of shocking how many American fast food joints were stuffed into a small area. Right across from our hotel were: Ponderosa Steakhouse, Burger KIng, Wendy's, Taco Bell, KFC, Church's Chicken (shockingly, this does exist outside of downtown Detroit), McDonalds, Subway, The Taco Maker (a lesser-known chain, I think), and Baskin Robbins. Yikes.

I was sad to leave Puerto Rico, and especially sad to leave our sweet hotel, the Water Club. It's a boutique hotel with blacklight-lit hallways, waterfall windows, votive candles, and techno music in the elevators. Please see below for a picture of part of our room. Maybe my favorite part of the hotel was that they gave out candied apples to the guests every day. Awesome.

Tuesday, January 09, 2007


Losing my momentum to study, like, I don't know, whoa.

I have knocked down two exams (civil procedure and criminal law) and have ONE more to go before sweet, sweet deliverance (and tropical vacation). Unfortunately, the exam up ahead of me (torts) may very well assault and batter me, or intentionally inflict emotional distress upon me, or otherwise cause a legally cognizable harm that I should be able to sue my torts professor for.


I just keep picturing a generic white sandy beach, a striped towel, a perspiring rum and coke with big cubes of ice, and me asleep with a gossip magazine melting onto my chest in the Caribbean sun. That's what's getting me through these days of creepy Boston rain and wind, and the looming horror of my Wednesday torts exam.

I guess there have been a few nice moments since I got back onto campus: I've gone running along the river when the weather has been beautiful and bright, I've watched a good deal of Law and Order SVU, and I discovered, which is a God-send for a girl who only leaves her room for exercise and essential errands (i.e. buying gum). Mostly the high point of this exam period has just been the absence of any freaking-out on my part, which I have managed by studiously avoiding all Harvard students in study-scary mode.

Now, as usual, I probably should be studying torts, memorizing the difference between joint liability, several liability, and joint and several liability, or perhaps figuring out how to calculate punitive damages, but honestly... can't do it.

Wednesday, January 03, 2007

Being Debbie Downer

Just call me Debbie Downer.. WOMP WOMMMMP.

Sister 1: I want to see the Country Bear Jamboree!

Sister 2: I want to go to every country in Epcot, and greet them in their own native language! "Hola!" "Konnichiwa!" "Hi!"

Debbie Downer: Do you guys care about that train explosion in North Korea? The media is so sensitive there.. so secretive -- that they may never know how many people perished.

Ohhhh man... I am trying to stay out of Debbie territory (see above) as I sit rotting in my room, attempting to study. So far today I have studied for 5 hours, which sounds like a lot to a normal person, but is probably nothing compared to all the other nerds at Harvard who take breaks from sleeping during the night to review the elements of torts. WOMP WOOOMMMP.

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

Why don't you tell your DADDY to buy you more trains

Happy New Year. Hard to believe a year has come and gone since I was drinking mango batidas in Rio, but time flies when you're having fun/in law school.

Julia and I did it up this year in New York F***ing City for new years eve. It was pretty standard, really -- I tripped on my purse leaving the apartment before taking one sip of alcohol, so it wasn't entirely surprising that I ended up tripping down the stairs later in the night and bruising my shins and knees to the point where some guy in the subway took a look at me and said, "Hey. At least you're still walking." Cheers to that!

Our night was fun. We started off at an Irish pub owned by the family of one of Julia's friends from high school, and I met a bunch of her high school friends. We had some drinks there, then headed off to the Stanny party, thrown by a few guys that we have known since freshman year of college. I had a few cups of champagne there, and somehow got completely and utterly drunk, more drunk than I had intended, I think because during the day ate the following: half a bagel with cream cheese, two granola bars, and a six inch Subway turkey sub. Apparently those paltry bread products were not enough to absorb the alcohol that I consumed, because I was a total mess. But, hey, that's new years.

After the apartment party we went to to a club called Manor, which we had purchased $70 late admissions tickets for. The next morning, I opened my purse and found the tickets, which makes me wonder how exactly we got in, and whether we needed to spend that money to begin with. Hmmmm. The club was weird and sort of a big blur, so we left after an hour or so and wandered to the subway to take the L train back to Hoolia's apartamento.

So we're on the train and it's crowded, and my hand accidentally brushes against this girl's hand who was standing next to me. She was pale and blonde, with spiky hair and a nose ring. I didn't notice her until she smacked my hand away from hers. The conversation that followed went exactly like this:

Me: Oh, sorry, I wasn't trying to hold your hand.

Girl: *soul-melting glare of hate*

Julia: Yeah, we'll post a missed connection on Craigslist later.

Me: *laugh*

Julia: *laugh*

Girl: Yeah? Just try it. My girlfriend will kick your ass up and down the stairs.

Me: ... uhhh....

Julia: Ummm... these trains are so crowded. The city should really have them come more frequently.

Girl: Why don't you call your DADDY and have him fix it for you?

Me and Julia: What? What does that even mean?

Girl: Oh, you don't know? Well just call me when you figure it out.

Me and Julia: *awkward silence.*

After five minutes or so of the girl sending evil hate vibes our way, we went to get off the train, and as we were leaving, the girl yelled, "Why don't you have your SORORITY call my fraternity!" She said the word "sorority" like you'd say "Hitler Fan Club." But what's funny about that is that we are not in sororities, nor have we ever been, and even if we were, where the hell does this chick get off judging us? What a bitch. And also, how are our "daddies" supposed to fix the fact that there aren't enough L trains in New York at 2 am? Unless our daddies = the old guy from Monopoly with the monacle and money bags coming out of his pockets, I don't think that's very realistic.

We ranted about how ridiculous that girl was all the way back to Julia's apartment, and then for about an hour after that, until Julia actually did go on Craigslist ("rants and raves") to post something about how much that girl sucked, in the hopes that she'd see it. "I mean, what, just because she's some girl on a train to Brooklyn she can judge other white girls? She represents what's wrong with so many things," said Julia. It's true. That girl sucked and I hope she gets her ass kicked for real by someone else's girlfriend.

Anyway, other than THAT, fun new years! I hope all of you had a good one and that no one got their ass kicked up OR down the stairs.