It has just been pointed out to me that my blog is pretty depressing. To this, I am forced to respond. What do you expect? It's November. Finals are next week. I'm about to turn 27, and, as they say in Jane Austen books, I have no prospects (this is a marriage reference, not a job reference). The girl I'm most interested in is dating another guy (wow, sounds like junior year of college). I feel like I have a right to be a depressy.
That said, it's probably not a bad idea to lighten it up on here. If nothing else, internally imagining one's self as happy is a nice way to get out of a funk.
So what should I talk about?
My tax professor has lately been a big fan of poking things into equations. Today he showed an example where there was a number that he couldn't poke into anything.
Inadvertent sexual comments are ALWAYS the best.
Yesterday I ate a random piece of cake to celebrate a professor's first semester down. This was very exciting.
Today I sat at the far end of ambassadors table. We were having a free lunch. As I sat there, it suddenly occurred to me to wonder if there was a cool kids side and a not cool kids side. This was a very worrying prospect, as I was sitting far away from the two co-presidents and very near one of the biggest 2L gunners.
Then I realized that we're talking about the law school AMBASSADORS. These were all people specifically chosen for their ability to be friendly and accessible. To make a cool kids and a non-cool kids distinction would be crazy.
That said, I do enjoy being put upon, so if anyone could tell me that I WAS on the not-cool kids side, I'd probably be pretty pleased.
I could see it now. "O blog," I would say. "Whoa is me. Having arrived too late at the ambassadors' lunch, I was forced to sit by the slightly less awesome people. Obviously, my showing up late was only incidental to this. Clearly, the world is against me, and all those I respect and admire look down upon me as some sort of social pariah. Also, my feet smell bad and people don't like me because I'm lazy!"
Ah, the joy such a post would bring me. Like a canoe over a waterfall, these are the sands of time. Wait. That doesn't fit. In fact, I'm pretty sure that's also not the correct sentence.
Alright, dinner time. Ciao, baby.