So that's why I look so young for my age...

From a New York Times article....

"One leading candidate, a newly synthesized form of resveratrol — an antioxidant present in large amounts in red wine — is already being tested in patients. It may eventually be the first of a new class of anti-aging drugs."

I would be more entertained if the story had said, 'an antioxidant present in large amounts of red wine.'

"I'm all about being cheap..."

Ana gets in line at the grocery store. She has two items, a bottle of Pinot Noir and a can of men’s shaving cream. Ana buys men’s shaving cream because it’s less than half the price of ‘women’s shave gel’ and works just as well, possibly better – and Freud, still renowned in his field, thought that the source of female angst was due to ‘penis envy.’ What an idiot.

Ana also buys the inexpensive shave cream so that in ten years she can speak to the full authenticity of her grad school experience (ie whine about how poor she was), kind of like when Hemingway lived in Paris on ‘two dollars a day’ even though we all know he was married to a woman with a trust fund. My experience might be a little more necessary as I have no sugar daddy.

There are only a few people in line and all of them seem to be pushing the limit on the ‘10 items or less.’ One guy decides to pay with a traveler’s check and sends the cashier into such a tizzy that she leaves the register for a few moments. Cute guy in front of Ana turns around and asks, “Have you tried that wine before?”

“No, why is it bad?” Ana laughs.

“Oh no, I’m just always looking for another good wine,” he answers.

“Well, I picked it up because it was on special for $5.99, so I’m guessing no,” I reply with a smile. “I enjoy good wine, but at this stage in my life, I’m all about being cheap.”

Guy gives Ana a funny look and turns back around. Ana, who knew what she was saying before she said it, laughs and hopes one day that she will find someone who appreciates her sick sense of humor.

You guys are killing me...

As law students we are all very careful to follow the rules and stay out of trouble. We don’t want to break any laws that could potentially jeopardize the career into which we have put so much time and money. So I thought I would let you know that some of you may be breaking the law right now without even realizing such.

You know how our classrooms are set up in rows? You notice how those rows are pretty narrow? Do you know what you’re doing when you sit down in one of those rows and then place your backpack/lunch sack/small trailer behind you? You, my friend, are creating a fire hazard. That’s right. You’re breaking the law, you little rebel.

Now granted, this doesn’t really affect someone like me in the case of fire. Someone of my size will inevitably be trampled to death during the flee regardless of whether or not junk is blocking said exits. But, speaking of size, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the only thing big about Ana is her mouth…and this is from the unnatural stretching due to constant placement of a certain foot.

Ana is just over two feet tall – okay maybe a little taller, but roll with me here. Anyway, when she is tromping through the row to get to her seat, she literally has to scale the large obstacles in her wake. To add insult to injury, she has to do this while carrying books that constitute approximately 50% of her body weight. This is no easy task my friend, and the sight of her struggle resembles a stub-legged little pony at an equestrian match. Rather embarrassing for all involved.

Ana, as a left-hander, already has to work hard to avoid potential accidents, not to mention the everyday danger of opening a bottle of wine without slicing open her hand from the foil wrapped around the bottleneck. (Oh yes, I have done this.) So if you could, please, please be a dear….AND KEEP YOUR STUFF OUT OF THE ROWS!!!!

Thank you for your attention to this matter.

Hugs and Kisses. Love you lots.

Your BFF,
Ana

When planning a Halloween costume…

…keep in mind that most of the party-goers were born after 1981.

Person: Cute costume, Ana.
Ana: Thanks! Do you know who I am?
Person: Uh, Blossom?
Ana: No.
Person: Hmm, Punky Brewster?
Ana: No.
Person: I give up.
Ana: I’m Annie Hall!
Person: What is Annie Hall?
Ana: Best Picture 1978.
Person: Oh, an Annie Oakley thing? Was it like a screen adaptation of Annie Get Your Gun?
Ana: No.

Oregon State = AWESOME!

The Great Orator, Part IV

In the last few days, I decided that my trepidation associated with speaking in front of people is really ridiculous. I need to overcome this fear. Who cares if you make an idiot of yourself in front of the rest of the class? Who cares if the prof is convinced that you were admitted via some type of program for ‘special people?’ Better to work on this problem now than deal with it for the rest of my life. So today, in my kinder gentler non-UCC class, I raised my hand every time I knew the answer. I fumbled around a bit, but seemed to do okay until the prof said to me, “You’re really going for those extra participation points, aren’t you Ana?”

And stupid me, I was so excited at my ability to speak that I pumped my fist in response.

Looks like next semester I will be working on the fear of being perceived as a gunner.

The Great Orator, Part III

Ana walks into UCC class today more determined than ever. Last night she actually studied, outlined, and answered all of the questions in the book and supplement. Now she understands why people always whine about the workload of law school. Forget fear of speaking, Ana's come to class to kick some booty.

Early on in class Ana actually raises her hand to point out potential remedy to problem via contract theory. Prof ponders Ana idea and says, "Yes, that would work actually."

Ha!

HA! HA!


Then Ana gets called on for hypothetical in book...her notes for this question are printed in yellow.

Wire transfer from 13 months ago/Was supposed to be 50K, but was 500K/Bank statement never received/lost in mail

"So Ms. Smith, can he recover the $450k?" asks prof.

"Well, when you look at 4A-505, it would appear not..."

4A-505 After one year, sender loses all right to a refund of principal of a receiving bank for an execution error. After receiving notification.

Before Ana can finish her sentence Prof yells, "Wrong! They didn't receive notification!"

Here are the rest of her notes, and what she would have said had she been allowed to finish her sentence.

But lost in the mail? Is that still notification?
1-202 (e) – Subject to (f) – a person receives notification when
1) it comes to that person’s attention or
2) it is duly delivered in a from reasonable under the circumstances
4A-304 – Duty of Sender to Report Erroneously executed order
4A-402(d) Except as provided in 4A-204/4A-304 – if the sender of a payment order pays the order and was not obliged to pay all or part of the amount paid, the bank receiving payment is obliged to refund payment to the extent sender was not obliged to pay.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!

Next time...

[Update: Since this post has been linked and is now being read by everyone and their dog, I feel the need to add that I later corresponded with my prof in regards to my fear of public speaking and how it affected the perception of my class preparation/participation. He was very understanding.]

Need a date? Just check your email...

This post was so funny I had to steal it from Weef’s site. Again, Weef is my high school buddy and is a real attorney. She’s much more organized than I am and highly excels in art of bargain shopping.

Yesterday Weef got an email from out of nowhere….

To: Weef!
From: [Guy Weef has never met]

You may think that this email is out of left field, but do you know a Janis Spindel?

*******
To: [Random Guy]
From: Weef!

I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't know anyone by that name.

*******
To: Weef!
From: [Random Guy]

ok, thanks
here's the reason
she is a matchmaker,
she said she has the "perfect person" for me, named Weef, double Ivy grad etc...
there arent that many who fit that bill
my sister is an attorney and found you on martindale
thanks

RG

*****************

To: [Random Guy]
From: Weef!

Sorry, wrong Weef, but by all means good luck with your search!

****************

To: Weef!
From: [Random Guy]

Thanks
i told my sister that google had you married, so i thought it was a long shot

***************

If anyone's looking for a nice single (presumably Jewish) surgeon in the tri-state area, please contact Weef. Heck, Weef - you might want to forward him my info.

The Great Orator, Part Two

Ana walks into class today ready for the hypothetical she was assigned. She spent an hour working on the problem and has a page and half worth of notes.

Prof asks Ana to explain the problem. Midway into the fact pattern, prof interrupts Ana and asks what type of Bank is ‘First Bank.’

“Huh?” asks Ana.

“What type of bank is it?” Prof asks again.

Uh, heard you the first time, but what exactly are you asking here? That wasn’t part of the problem. Ana tenses up, fumbles around, and tries the throw out any kind of catch-phrase she can remember.

“Beneficiary?” she says.

“That is a term from Article 4A and your problem is from Article 3, Ms. Smith,” the prof says as he starts to jot down notes related to Ana’s performance on a sheet of paper.

Ana freaks out because the last time the prof tried to call on her for something, she didn't hear what he said, didn't want to speak, and instead lied that she was unprepared. This is Ana's stock answer to avoid talking in class. Sometimes when she knows she will be called on she skips the class entirely. Ana is now completely frozen and can’t remember her last name much less any information related to the problem. Someone finally offers up that the bank is a payor bank which is pretty much the opposite of a beneficiary bank.

Prof continues to ask questions and interrupt Ana, but now all she can say is ‘I Don’t Know’ repeatedly. Guy sitting next to Ana attempts to help clarify the few intelligible phrases she is managing to muster. Another girl in class ends up answering the question – in almost a word for word version of Ana’s notes.

At the end of the discussion the prof says, “I’d really appreciate it if the students who were assigned the problems would come to class prepared.”

Ana spends the rest of the class time staring at the words “First Bank (Payor Bank)” which appears on line ten of her notes.

Law-Blogger Love...

The last few weeks have been busy for links...just wanted to say thanks.

1. Kristine @ Divine Angst - Was one of the first to start linking to me regularly on the Law School Weekly Round-up. Dropping in on Kristine's blog has the same feeling as dropping by to visit a friend. She's a got a cute dog and cooks a mean sauce.
2. Law-rah at Won-L liked this post that deals with the perils of dating in law school and signed me on. I'm currently reading her blogs about studying in London this summer. She's a cutie-patootey.
   
3. Namby Pamby - I kinda sorta love you. I know, I know. Namby blogs about moot court, bad drivers, and the angst of watching your favorite sports team in real time.
   
4. Evan Schaeffer - Thank you, thank you. Evan's blog is a grab bag of sorts. He offers legal news, career advice, and information on the latest gadgetry. He's a real lawyer.
   
5. The Megster at Far, Far Away - One of those people you like instantly...even though you've never met her. Take me to Tokyo with you!
   
6. Artsy-Fartsy doesn't post nearly as often as I would like, but she's one funny Southern gal. Over the summer she described the antics of living with her in-laws. She writes about being a wife, woman, and professional in the deep South, and she does it in a charming way.
   
7. Its hard not to love someone who links you as "George Carlin with Curves"
   
8. Brunette Law is just starting her blog - show her some love.
9. Loco Delictis links to my other blog. She's a late bloomer like me and doesn't get to post that often because she's a 1L and is currently having to schedule everything down to her bathroom breaks.
   
10. My little Cella Bella - I think you were the first person to ever link me...like ever. Cella is goofy, upbeat, and just as fun in real life.
    
11. Russ and Mike - Everyone knows who you guys are...thanks soooo much.
12. Oh, and I had to edit cuz I just found this one - Law Bitches.
13. Law School Virgin - She's kind of tease...duh. Her blog has a coming of age feel to it. Uncertain, self-loathing, and just basically trying to figure life out, she reminds me way too much of my early twenties. After every post I want to hug her and have a strange feeling that she would react by saying, "Ew, bitch. What are you doing?"

People I love even without the links!

1. Peanut Butter Burrito - aspiring novelist and public interest gal. Makes you want to smack down the voices of self-doubt and submit your work for publication. And maybe once a Bruin?!? There are a lot of hopeful writers out there, but this is one gal who's working her little tail off to make it happen.
2. Naked Drinking Coffee - totally crude. Completely Crass. Great writer.
3. Miss Doxie - As of late she's been blogging about her dogs and includes really cute drawings to accompany the stories. Another great writer.

The Great Orator...

I’m getting called on in class tomorrow. I know this because I have an assigned problem that I have to present. I do not like speaking in class. At all. After attempting the first few weeks of this semester to raise my hand and participate for extra points I have retreated back to my non-speaking self. About the only class where I feel comfortable acknowledging an opinion is Federal Tax and even then I do so by making eye contact with the prof and either nodding or shaking my head.

I have another prof who’s figured out that I’m more than willing to speak when he talks down to me. The last time this happened he apologized to me as I left class, “Sorry for giving you a hard time, Smith. I know you know this stuff as much or more than the rest of the class.”

I scowled at him and walked off. (I secretly like this prof - not in that way - ew. Like actually enjoy the class!)

I don’t know why I hate speaking so much. Perhaps it is because I know everyone is watching and I’m afraid of saying something dumb or more likely it is just because I am much more comfortable with my alternate medium. The anxiety is not as great when appearing before a small group – meaning two people or less, and I’m typically pretty comfortable with the material so it’s not due to a lack of understanding or preparation. Bizarrely, every time I’ve sat privately with a faculty member to discuss career ideas the first thing they always say, “You know Ana, you’d be really good at litigation.”

Hmm, coming up with a good argument and vocalizing it are two completely different things. If only you could submit your arguments via blog…

Fitting into the stereotype...

Yesterday I was catching up with my brother while he worked an 8 pm – 4am shift in the film editing room. Ugh, I know, but he rarely works five days a week as a freelancer, makes more money than I ever have, and sends me enough free stuff from Sundance each year to constitute a wardrobe.

We were chatting about my blog and he was worried about potential employers finding it.

“I don’t think anyone could pin me for it unless someone specifically tipped them off,” I said.

“Hmm, but what if they ask you in the interview ‘Do you have a blog/myspace/facebook etc?’ That’s a Catch-22 right there because if you lie and they find out – toast. If you say you do, but you refuse to give them the address – you’re toast,” he commented.

“Hmm, yes, well, I guess,” I answered.

“You know what you should do?” he said. “Right before you go to an interview, take the blog down. After you get the job, start it back up again. That way you’re not lying about having a blog. You can make up some BS about how you weren’t planning on starting it back up, but…”

“That seems kind of deceitful to me,” I said.

“Really?” he questioned, “I think it totally sounds like a lawyer-ish thing to do. You guys are all about covering your butt. Heck, you might even get bonus points for doing it.”

Don't do Mondays? Then, don't do them!

Seems as if a lot of people blogging today are decrying the Monday blues. I didn't fall asleep until 3:30 am last night after the evening's unexpected events.

Anyhoo, I got up an hour early this morning and sauntered into class more determined than ever to be a happy, fulfilled, productive, and stable individual. I was exhausted, but for my first two classes I stayed alert and took fabulous notes. I was not showered, wore my clothes from the day before, but I persevered.

Around noon however, I felt pretty grimy and tired and I said, "You know what? Screw this. I'm gonna go home and take a nap."

So I left before my last class, picked up lunch and a movie on the way home, indulged myself by ordering Wonder Boys off of Amazon, and am now sitting at my desk all fat, happy, satiated and ready to do some work. Yay.

Peer Perceptions...

Wine-Time Girl: I’m just calling to let you know that I will be dragging you to the Halloween party next weekend no ifs, ands, or buts. You can wear a box on your head if you like, but you’re going.

[I had joked previously that I was going to fashion a cardboard box to look like an oven, put it on my head, and go as Sylvia Plath. No one else seemed to appreciate my humor in this idea.]

Wine-time Girl: I still have not yet decided on a costume. [Guy I’m dating] just told me I should go as a slut.

Ana: Well, that would be easy. You could just wear the clothes you wear every day.

Wine-Time: Yeah, and you could wear your every day clothes and go as a Bitch.

Ana: Indeed.

Wine-Time Girl: We could make ourselves little tags that say “slut” and “bitch.” Halfway through the evening we'll trade signs given the overlap of our personalities.

Ana: Well, it’s definitely cost effective, but I don’t think it’s going to do much to dispel the false rumors and judgments that we’re always whining about. Then again, I suppose it's better than making tags that say 'drunk' and 'psycho.'

No, I was sober…

Our dinner was at one of those places where you bring your own wine. Since I had a happy hour beforehand that happened to be next door to the restaurant, I decided not to lug a bottle of wine with me to the bar.

When I got to the restaurant I offered to pay someone to split a bottle with me.

“Oh no, you need your own,” they said.

“Ana, of all the people to not bring wine…” they chided.

Okay.

My friend Dan and I spotted a cigar store near the restaurant that looked a little chi-chi, but happened to carry wine and was still open.

Ana struts in the store.

“Hi! Can I help you?” asked a blonde whose hair was tightly pulled.

“Yeah,” I said, “I need a cheap wine.”

“Excuse me?” she asked.

“Seriously, what’s the most hideous wine you carry?” I answered with a grin.

Tight-bun frowned.

“Is this for a gag gift?” she asked.

“No,” I answered. “This is for a poor grad student who needs a swill.”

No laugh. No response. No nada. She proceeded to show me the wines.

After picking out a $14 wine called ménage a trois - I though it might be a good conversation piece - Ana walked over to the counter.

“Did you find everything you needed?” asked the cashier.

“Actually, I’m still looking for a sense a humor,” I answered.

As Dan and I walked out the two women in the store called after me, “Be careful! Drive safe!”

Dan bursts into laughter.

“You do realize that those women thought you were drunk, right?” he asked.

“Dan,” I answered, “that’s the sad irony of my life. Everyone thinks I’m a crazy drunk, but I’m always painfully sober.”

I love my Tax class...

Prof: So as you can see, there's a financial incentive for wealthy people to sit on their assets.

Into each life some rain must fall...

Last night I stood just outside my front door at 2 am smoking a cigarette due to one of my frequent periods of insomnia. The rain poured down and as water rushed over my feet I silently hoped that I would not wake up the next day to find that my house was now floating in the Gulf of Mexico.

“What are the odds that I won’t have school tomorrow?” I thought to myself.

School closings are a regular part of life, but this is the first town I’ve lived in where the closings are due to rain. When I moved here, I was ecstatic to learn that one of the largest cities in the nation maintained such low property values. Today I think the primary reason for such is that the majority of the city must be located on a flood plain. Anytime it rains for more than a few hours half of the town disappears under water. This is what happens when you build on a swamp.

The SBA president called me at 8:30 am this morning to tell me the good news and complain that it took her over an hour to get to school this morning.

“Why did it take you so long?” I asked her.

The main highway leading from her house was closed due to flooding and she had to find an alternate route. Talk about dedication aka typical neurotic law student reaction.

“Um, did you maybe think that a closed highway might be a sign that school was closed as well?” I asked.

She grumbled that she had stuff to do, needed to get to school, and was unbelievably irritated that she was now going to have to attend make-up classes. Personally, I was thrilled to have the extra time to get some reading done and hopped back into bed with the plan to wake up at 9:30 am.

Around 11:30 I opened my eyes. Crud. Classes were only suspended until noon, so I threw on the clothes I wore yesterday and headed down the stairs. I stopped at the front door to check my wardrobe. From the windows, I saw the wind blowing violently and it appeared rather cold outside. I was wearing ankle pants and a t-shirt. I opened the door a crack and stuck my leg outside. While other areas of the country have seasons called Fall, Spring, Winter, and Summer, my town has three seasons that resemble the flavoring of Buffalo Wings: mild, hot, and spicy hot. For a second I thought my house had floated away and hit ground in Costa Rica because the outside felt like a rain forest. I checked my watch to confirm that yes, this was mid-October. I traveled to school on a road that is typically four lanes, but today was reduced to two due to flooding of the other two.

The city rains the same way that I cry. The sky opens, gushes for about an hour, and lets it all out. Then the sun appears and everything returns to normal. I left my umbrella in my car because it had been raining for almost 24 hours and I figured the rain wouldn’t keep up.

The school parking lot was close to empty and as I walked around the law school building I realized that the only people who showed up today were 1Ls. Suckers. Oh wait, I came too. At class my prof announced that he wouldn’t be taking attendance.

Why am I here?

I walked out an hour and a half later to pouring rain. By this point, more students had arrived and everyone was bitching in the common areas because the roads were now more flooded than ever and people were trying to figure out how the heck they were going to get home at the end of evening classes. At 4 pm, the school sent out a second announcement. This time it was closed for the rest of the day. I came home and turned on the TV for a little R&R. There is nothing on the TV except weather news because we are now under a tornado watch.

I’m now sitting cozily in my little house wondering whether we’ll have school tomorrow, and if we do, whether my house will still be here when I wake up tomorrow.

The Joys of Being On a Journal...

So I finally regret joining my journal. Why?

Is it the silly paper I've been working on all week? The paper for which I will receive no credit, no grade, no nada?

Um, no.

Is it the crazy assignment my editor gave me the same week the paper was due and the fact that he only gave me seventy-two hours to accomplish the task?

Uh-uh.

Well?

Softball. Yeah, you heard me, softball. At the beginning of the semester my editor was scrambling to get a team together to play at a multiple law school and law firm softball tournament. I don't like to watch sports, much less play them (excepting college football, of course), but when the editor said he was desperate for female players I agreed to take one for the team and well, join the team.

I cannot catch, cannot throw. In all honesty, I am afraid of the ball. Balls are something that Cinderellas attend, not orbital devices that cause serious bodily injury. I secretly hoped that despite my participation he would not find enough people to comprise a team...he did.

The tourney is this weekend and a few days ago, he sent me an email, the key information of which is established below:

our first game is at 8 am
Please DO NOT be late or else we will have to forfeit the game.

Son of a ...
Anyone who has read even 10% of this blog knows that Ana does not function well before 1 pm and has difficulty getting out of bed before 9:30 am.

But now I have to get up...at like 6:30 am! on a Saturday! and drive my little butt to some undisclosed area of the city so that I can stand in the middle of field, pray that the ball does not come my way, and make a screaming idiot of myself when it does.

Stupid journal.

My Friday Nights Should be Free for Awhile...

So, K has tagged me again on the Law School Round-Up, sending unknown newbies across the country to the site. First, she directed people my way when I ridiculed boys with rolling backpacks. Now, she highlights the rudeness I show men to their face.

K, if this continues, I will not be able to get a date anywhere in the U.S. by the time I graduate.

Keep it up.

Ugh, Eff!!

The other day Eff and I were discussing our summers abroad and how both of us would like to do so again. In the course of our conversation he brought up South Africa. Well Eff, I am now in full procrastination mode because I can't get my mind off of the idea, and instead of working on my paper, I'm clicking on various websites and trying to plot a way to get myself to Cape Town. Ugh! You stink!

Ana: Lover of Words, Killer of Trees

Yep, I'm writing a paper. Bleh! As you can see, I've called in the reserves to help me pour over each little detail. See ya in a few days!

Never give up....

Everybody get ready, Ana’s about to tell a positive story. Don’t worry. Hell hasn’t frozen over; the story isn’t my own.

I have a good friend who studied her little kiester off last year and ended up with about the same grades as me (a hair below top-third). When she participated in OCI, she got very few interviews despite the fact that she was one of the few people I knew who had a paid summer internship at a large firm. (Yeah, she worked her butt off for that one, too. I think she sent resumes to nearly every large firm in the country last year, got her foot in the door at one of them, and then got paid.) Anyhoo, there was a particular firm that my friend really wanted to work for next summer, a firm well-known in most of the major cities. This firm did not select her resume for an interview during OCI.

For most of us, that would be where the dream ended, but my friend was not dissuaded. She asked around until she found people who knew others at the firm and began capitalizing on those connections. She wiggled her way into various receptions in order to meet people from the firm, and after a few weeks, everyone was talking to the hiring partner. After requesting her resume, she was invited immediately for an in-office interview, effectively skipping the first round.

Today they called her and offered her a summer associate position. She’ll be working at her dream firm and making about $3k a week.

I’m unbelievably happy for her – and I just thought I’d let you guys know that there’s more than one entrance when you’re looking for that summer internship.

In other news, I have a paper due for my journal at the end of the week that I am loathe to write. I’m not sure how much I’ll be around this week as a result. Hopefully, the little puppy will just write itself tonight and I can be done with it excepting citations and formatting, but if you don’t hear from me – know that I’m thinking of you…or cursing the day I decided to join a journal, one of the two.

And PS to my roomie from Paris - This paper means that I won't be getting a new Lex in Paris out this week. I know, you hate me. I know. Plus, I worked on it some more last week and I think I want to write a separate piece before the two pieces I was working on so, it could be awhile. I know, I know. Go eat some gelato and know that I love you.

Why Ana is still single…

Last week at the med school mixer, a guy approached me for a cigarette and I told him to buzz off. I hate it when people I don’t know walk right up to me and ask for a stoke. I think it’s rude. Plus, I’m kind of in a chain-smoking phase right now and wasn’t sure that I’d have enough for the entire evening.

After the initial brush-off, the guy returned and this time tried to guilt me into giving him a cigarette.

“Get lost, creep,” I said.

I turned to ‘wine-time’ girl and said, “I can’t stand guys like that. They’re good looking and intelligent and they approach someone like me thinking that I’ll fall all over them and give them whatever they want. He doesn’t give a phooey about me, doesn’t want to know me. He just wants a cigarette and thinks he can take advantage of me in that respect.

A few days later….

Message on my machine from ‘wine-time girl’: So that guy the other night approached you because he thought you were cute and thought the cigarette line would be a good entrée. Apparently after you told him to sit and spin, he wandered around the group whining to everyone about what a snit you were and how you wouldn’t give him the time of day.

Upon hearing this message, I do not feel bad; instead I laugh hysterically. Yeah, I shouldn’t be dating right now.

Debit or Credit?

Everyone has their least favorite class – there’s no way to avoid it.

Mine centers around the legality of the checking, debit, and credit system. You learn the difference between ‘business’ and ‘banking’ days and the difference between banking days as defined in Article 3 of the UCC as opposed to Article 4. The UCC is one of the codes that another of my profs would describe as ‘written by committee’. Written by committee means that no one could come to a singular agreement and as such, every person’s opinion has been included in the statute to the point where it renders the statute incomprehensible. To add insult to injury, I am convinced that the UCC committee members had a five year old transcribe the notes of their meetings and ultimately draft the final issue.

My class is comprised of an egregious amount of individuals with experience in the banking industry and most of our class period is devoted to their debates of how the UCC is actually interpreted. My contribution to class time consists of either staring at the ceiling or attempting to diagram sentences out of the UCC in order to show subject-verb disagreement, incorrect use of pronouns, or improper modifiers.

Why make the UCC so unintelligible, you ask? Easy. Lawyers make a lot of money. One of the main sources of such is the mystique involved in interpreting law. If we wrote the UCC clearly it would be apparent how fundamentally basic the law truly is. Someone with a high school education could practice law. The mystique would be gone, the prestige lost. Practicing law would be akin to working the evening shift at a fast food joint. Then again, both professions get paid by the hour.

One of the more entertaining parts of class is when the students correct the professor. He will tell us something and then a person will raise their hand and say, “But our casebook says otherwise.”

These comments always leave me with a certain sense of unease. I mark down the conflict in my notes in order to determine if by the time of the final my prof will be more inclined to agree with the book or his own opinion when he grades my essay. This is the key to doing well in law school, by the way. It’s not about learning the law, everyone knows the law by the end of the class. The secret is figuring out how to size up each prof as an individual and determine what exactly they are looking for on a law school exam.

The people who get the A are those who pour over the material and class notes for hours upon hours each night. Then, when the exam comes, they dump out every possibility in order to mention the small part that the prof is searching for. The reason Big Firms want to interview these people has nothing to do with their basic intelligence. Rather, the firms know that the interviewee on the other side of the table will spend ten hours a day working on something to the detriment of other areas in their lives. That’s exactly what they’re looking for in a good employee. (That being said, there a few people who pick up instantly on what the prof wants and put little effort into their schoolwork. They take a big firm job for a few months and then move on to a different industry.)

My prof likes to boast about how he doesn’t own a debit card because he thinks a credit card is so much better. Last week we got into a debate about what happens when you use a debit card, but punch the credit button at the point of sale and sign for the issue. Our book said that the process was treated as a credit transaction and therefore credit laws applied. The bankers in the class said no way, a debit card is a debit card and the bank views it as such regardless of how you make the payment. The prof, admitting a lack of debit practice, told us to go with the bankers’ theory.

My prof has extensive experience in his field. Without question, he probably has 50 times the level of knowledge in this arena than me.

At the same time I found myself wondering….

How many chefs do you think there are that teach cooking lessons, but don’t own a stove?

Don't think, just write?

This is what happens when Ana writes in a stream of consciousness, um, excuse me, Joycian manner.

So proud of myself for that Joycian comment. The two of you who actually read that entry on the blog may giggle as well.

I was going over various parts of my Paris drafts yesterday, asking myself the age old question that every writer asks: Why Does This Suck?

I will admit right now that the Lex in Paris series is not designed as entertainment for the reader.

I know, I’m awful. You come to the site, and you expect to be entertained. You want that chuckle and little release from law school tedium. So you click over to Lex in Paris and you’re like, “What is this crap? Give me my money back!”

The check is in the mail.

“So what’s up with Lex?” you ask.

Hmm. Ana hides under her table and whispers, “It’s a writing exercise.”

“What?!” the dear reader demands incredulously.

Sorry. Ana is working on things like character development. Ana is attempting to be more descriptive and include meaningless tangents that become later tie-ins. Ana thought it would be fun to try and incorporate the city of Paris into the essays. Ana’s never had to describe a setting before, and well, that, among other things, is kind of hard.

Yes, I feel free to refer to myself in the third person. I am, after all, a fictional character. And yes, I’m going a little crazy with comma usage today for some reason. Sue me. I can do whatever I want to with myself. Gross! Get your mind out of the gutter!

So that is the point of the exercise. I have to stop myself everyday from slicing and dicing the piece and making it tighter and more cohesive. However, I would like the stories to still be somewhat entertaining for the reader. So yesterday, for your sake, and your sake alone, Ana was reviewing the nine new pages she has written since the first installment came out.

I finally realized why the piece smelled so bad after I read this post on another person’s blog. [Thanks whoever you are – you made my day! Okay, I tried to post a link here six zillion times and every time I did – blogger cut off the rest of the post. I will try and update later.]

There's this lady at law school who has a frantically funny blog. Her name is Ana ( or at least that's the name she gives herself) and my favourite thing about the way she writes is that she has a happy knack of pointing out the patently ridiculous things that go on around her. Think George Carlin. With a prettier face ( I hope..). With curves ( she says she rocks a pant suit..). And a slightly more restrained tongue ( or should I say pen..or perhaps keystroke).

Clearly, he was so complimentary that it is obvious he’s never met me before, but GC with curves, I love it!

“Oh my goodness!” Ana screamed after approaching and leaving the draft several times. “This is soooo not funny.”

My shtick is absurdity. People told me last year that they liked the Lex & the City columns because I was doing something stupid, I was being totally open about it, I was laughing at myself, and the majority of the student body had done something similar.

“Hmm, yeah, that’s not in here at all,” I thought while reviewing my writing.

Ana wondered if it was possible to write good material without humor. Les Miserables comes to mind. Then Ana wondered if she could write good stuff without humor. Staring down at the draft before her she answered, “Apparently not yet.”

Oh, don’t whine. I gave you lots of cool pictures for distraction.

Aren’t you just the teensiest relieved after reading a bad piece? Doesn’t it feel good to realize that I am not perfect, but rather just as human as you are?

I’m also very bothered by my own emotional distance with the characters. I think in order to write well, you need to love your characters. Right now, the only character I love is Kelly. Writing Kelly is so fun. I am slowly starting to love Ana. It’s hard not to – I mean, she’s so quirky, so whacked out, and so emotionally over the top. Can you imagine if someone like that actually existed and tried to function on a high level in reality? Neither can I. Imagine what her former loves would say about her! ‘You are a walking Pat Conroy novel.’ So much meaning in so few words. That would be her favorite line if she or the former love were actual persons.

Then again, reality is whatever you perceive it to be.

I am not sure what I want to do with the character of PBF. Typically, the guy in the Lex stories is pretty two-dimensional. He stands around and says, ‘duh’ while Ana works herself into a neurotic and analytical frenzy. I’m trying to give this character more depth. Right now PBF is a big ball of clay waiting to be molded, and all I seem to be doing is smashing the clay against the table, rolling it around, and then repeating while the little ball screams, “Ow! Don’t hurt me!”

Somewhere in the ether the guy who served as the inspiration for PBF is wondering why he has such a splitting headache.

I soo want to go buy some clay now..and not for voodoo purposes just for play.

So, PBF, should I make him:
Confused?
Non-self actualized?
International man of mystery?
Calculating slimeball?
Star-crossed lover?
Passion & Fashion victim?
Someone who attempts to subvert his true personality for the person he thinks he is supposed to be?
A liberal disguised as a Republican disguised as a liberal?
Someone who struggles with his own morality in the sense that it bothers him that he doesn’t feel the call of the inner conscience the way others seem to; a guy who desperately wants to believe in God and good and evil, but ultimately just can’t seem to go for a black and white world on a rational level. He knows the world is truly comprised of shades of grey, yet he resents other rationalist-type thinkers because they validate those inner thoughts?

The existence of God is a fun concept to play with. On the one level, the idea of an all-knowing unseen God is ridiculously absurd (at least on this blog it is). Conversely, a belief in God can ultimately make a person’s quality of life much better. Living is much simpler when it comes with a designated path and illustrated guidebook. Trust me, it’s ten times easier to get out of bed every morning when you’ve got a meaning for life handed to you in nice little wrapped package with a bow on top. But if God does exist, then why would he create people who would want to kill each other? Why hunger? Certainly there’s got to be a better way to regulate the population. And certainly, people can learn lessons in life without the taking of the lives of others – which are lessons we never seem to learn anyway since mankind keeps killing for the same reasons over and over and over again. Don’t tell me that God has a reason for this that I can’t understand – and don’t tell me that there are certain things which I cannot understand or comprehend. This is MY blog. I wonder if you can have meaning in life in the absence of God. Did anyone ever write about this?

Ana stops and ponders……..

Ana realizes that she’s never read anything on Buddhism and wonders what that is all about. Maybe she could become a former Episcopalian turned Jew-Bu.

That was a joke.

Ana reminds herself that she wants to reread the Fountainhead. Yes, Ana thinks this will be good for her current state of mind.

Ooh, did I tell you that I’m totally fascinated right now with the Creator of the Universe concept in Breakfast of Champions? Like on this blog, I am the Creator of the Universe. How cool is that?

Random question, do they still make sanitarium-type places where people can go when they are not fundamentally crazy, but just a little worn down by life and need an escape from reality? I want to sit in a chair on well groomed lawn and stare out vacantly over a pond without distractions, pollution, or car noise while someone serves me tea.

[La Vie Boheme from Rent just came onto my Mp3 player and I’m in the library desperately attempting not to dance. Hold on, I’ll be right back. I gotta dance.]

Ok, you say, you can not start mixing God into Lex & the City. Why not?! The idea plays very well into the story line. Actually, in reviewing the last nine pages not yet published on the blog, Ana realizes that it is already in there. Don’t worry. It’s subtle. Plus, God is funny. Really funny. Can you think of another with a more sick or perverse sense of humor?

So yeah, my characters are out of whack. All I can say is ‘I’m working on it’. And if it makes you feel any better – Part 2 is in edits right now and is definitely better than Part 1; Part 3 is about 60% written and is better than Part 2.

Cigarette? Ooh! Ana blows you kisses from her padded cell as the Creator of the Universe exits for a smoke.

About Ana and her Author...

From the author:

So here’s the deal. I make a lot of this stuff up. Either that, or I warp it beyond belief to make it funny, obnoxious, or seen through Ana’s eyes.

Ana
Ana is a fictional character whose musings are often inspired by her writer's own life. She lives in a neighborhood called Rosemont that's known around town for being full of hippies, artists, drugs, and homosexuals. In reality, Rosemont has actually become quite Bobo (Bourgeois Bohemian) in the last ten years, yet still supports a healthy number of tattoo parlors. Ana is flighty, neurotic, flirty, scathing, coy, sarcastic, cynical, and sometimes bitter. She drinks a lot of red wine, and is a little bit off her rocker. Ana does everything with gusto. She thinks that law school is boring and would rather be an artist. At moments she'd like a boyfriend, but is ultimately afraid of commitment because she doesn’t want to be tied down. She would only want to get married if she could do it several different times. As a result, her romances tend to be fast, furious, and take place primarily in her imagination. She might be misinterpreted as somewhat pretentious, but in fact Ana just likes learning new things and gets excited when others share in her pursuits. She doesn’t understand why some people don’t have an innate curiosity in everything around them. She wishes the world were a little more well-rounded. Ana can be feisty at times, but has a good heart.

Ana has two major partners-in-crime:

Wine-Time-Girl, named such for frequent get togethers involving a glass of wine, goes to law school and has a more positive outlook on love than Ana. WTG always carries a novel in her purse and is usually reading a book or pondering the meaning of life.

Alex met Ana through friends of friends and graduated from other-university (the other big school in town). Part hippie and part hipster, the former Americorps participant divides his time between working at a folk art gallery and tending bar. Alex can often be seen zipping around town on his bike with a messenger bag he made himself.

Author
The author is a quiet person who spent the bulk of her childhood hidden in her room with either a book or her daydreams. Unlike Ana, she wants to be a lawyer. Really. Believe it or not, she is an optimist. (What can I say? I love irony.) She’s a pretty private person and it takes a long time and a lot of teeth pulling to get to know her. She’s not a man-hater. She’s more stable than she’d like to be. She writes for enjoyment and blogs anonymously to avoid confusion. That being said, in moments of adventure, Ana can become her alter ego.