not so moley after all

I extern on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I mostly research and write, which I generally enjoy. What I don't like is the room I work in. It has a dreary beige motif, and the walls are covered with papers dated 2004 and earlier. The fifteen desks are empty, and there's a big sign on the wall that reads "Welcome Summer Interns." There are no windows and, because it's an enclosed room, no passers-by. Sometimes, an intern on a special project from another department will sit at one of the desks, which adds some life to the room. Most days, however, I'm stuck in this ghost town of a room, driving myself mad with utter isolation. Today is one of those days.

The only things that keep me from going completely mad are listening to iTunes and looking at this cutie.

curtilage? seriously?

Monday is "Dress Like Your Favorite Criminal Procedure" Day. My professor is requiring each of us to wear a costume that depicts something we've learned this semester. Criminal procedure covers subjects such as the right to be free from unreasonable search and seizure, the Miranda right, the privilege against self-incrimination (i.e., pleading the 5th), and a host of other yummy protections against governmental intrusion. One rule says that police must have a warrant to search your house and your curtilage; curtilage is the area surrounding your house, like a porch. Last year, someone showed up as a curtilage. How? I have no idea. The point is, I have to come up with a costume by Monday, and I have no idea what I'm going to be. If you have suggestions, let me know. If you're lucky, I'll post up a picture on Monday.

being quiet

I am by nature a very quiet person. I tend to speak when spoken to, and I generally detest jibber-jabber. When my professors ask me questions in class, I instinctively respond with a terse "yes" or "no," which puts me in stark contrast to my classmates who like to wax philosophical about society's injustices. If someone tries to force me to articulate myself beyond what I've already said, I become physically uncomfortable, which frustrates the other person and occassionally throws him into a fit of rage. I feel safe to share my opinions among friends, but even then, I favor one-on-one rants rather than mass tirades.

This quietness doesn't jive well with another quality of mine -- namely, the fact that things piss me off all the time. I didn't realize how incompatible these qualities were until last week. Without going into details, I spoke at an on-campus event, which garnered a lot of debate among the panelists. The next day, the moderator sent an email expressing certain opinions that I disagreed with. The opinions probably wouldn't have pissed me off so much if I thought they just came from the moderator, but I knew that these opinions also come from my school, whose tunnel vision sometimes hurts their students. Being generally passive agressive, I shot off an email to the panelists explaining each of my problems. For many, it was the most they had ever "heard" me say. "Why haven't you talked about this before?" they asked. The only thing I could think was, nobody ever asked me.

This is a really dumb attitude to have, be it in personal relationships or professional settings. This attitude is especially unproductive in the legal field, where attorneys are advocates who don't get paid to wait for someone else to prompt them. If I'm going to work for the little guy after school -- the person whose voice has gone unheard for so long -- I'll never get anything done if I can't even use my own voice.

I've considered trying to go the opposite direction and become the lawyer that we all hate -- brash, schmoozy, loquacious. But I'm afraid that people will see right through the act, which will only make me look like a massive tool and thus annoy myself. In between these extremes, I'm struggling to find a happy medium, as cliche as that sounds. I have a dreadful feeling that this medium doesn't exist, though, and I'll eventually have to choose one over the other. It's times like these that I think being a tall white man would make my life much easier.

aspirations

For Lent, I gave up english breakfast tea lattes from the Coffee Bean. I convinced myself that I needed the concentrated tea, sweetened by wonderful vanilla powder, to give me that extra kick in the morning. Once the baristas at not one but two locations began to greet me by name, though, I realized I had a problem. I hope to kick the habit by the time Easter rolls around, though I think that addiction may just be replaced by another (Dove dark chocolate Easter eggs).

Speaking of self-indulgence, I thought I should try to blog regularly, at least for the remaining 37 days. My keeping-in-touch frequency is set at abysmal six-month intervals, a problem which law school only compounds. To ensure some regularity, I'm going to be less ambitious with the writing (and eat my oatmeal everyday). No great revelations or insights into mankind. But no mundane Seinfeld-ish quips either. Just my life. Should I veer toward either extremes, stop me. Whatever lands in the middle of these could turn out to be quite a bore, so consider yourself forewarned.

This semester has been a drag. I started off this year really enthusiastic about all the things I could do, but something happened between the first week of finals and the beginning of the second semester. Everything that really excited me just petered out. Take my law review note. My goal is to be published, but the earliest that will happen is next year. This is my fault. I got ambitious and picked a problem so difficult that when I complained to my faculty advisor, all he could say was "Well, that's why I haven't done that problem yet." Okay, Mr. Smartie Pants. Of course, he follows up by telling me how much more rewarding it is to tackle a complex problem rather than writing a simpler piece, but those words don't help me when I'm sitting in front of my computer, wondering how I, a lowly second-year, am going to solve a problem that a renowned expert has not. I'm still plugging along, though, footnote by f'ing footnote, but as of right now, I'm pretty demoralized.

On a lighter and completely unrelated note, I would love to create an IMDB-like site that tracks Hollywood relationships rather than movies. I'm always trying to remember who went out with whom, and sometimes it's just too difficult. My technical expertise, however, goes no further than basic HTML, and I would probably burn out trying to keep up with George Clooney alone. But wouldn't it be awesome??? It would be my contribution to the world of snarky celebrity blogs. For now, I'll settle for Defamer , Fametracker, and, my new favorite, PinkIsTheNewBlog.