You see, law school, is one of those things. Its like broccoli, listening to classical music, underground hip-hop, and appreciating James Joyce and Ernest Hemingway -- you know you should do it, put in time, but it ain't fun, it ain't enjoyable, and the whole thing is so damn underwhelming that you want to say fuck it. (Fuck it.) But you really can't ...even though I just did. So after dinner, (late dinner), instead of getting right back into my outline --- I ......
....I went on You Tube and searched out my favorite early 1990's songs and videos. I still can't believe Jeff Redd didn't blow up. And yes, Intro's debut in 1993 is my favorite R&B/soul album (Midnight Maurauders and Amplified Heart are not R&B/Soul) from 1989 to 1996. I searched for obscure Japanese jazz and my favorite club in the world (yes, its on You Tube), and I nearly lost it when I saw a clip of my man, Toshi performing live in 2000 (yes, I was there). As you can see it took awhile on You Tube. A waste of time? Sure, I mean would Kevin Maxwell go on You Tube, nah, he's probably outlining for 7 hours (down from 10 hours he did as a 1L) and preparing for his callback interviews (he has to get at least three call backs if he has over 15 interviews), but for me it provided some sanity. And proved that yes, at one point in my life, I lived. And at one point in my life I was almost as cool as a Japanese college student studying in Philly. ..Almost.
Now, I'm in this thing called Law School. Those days of soulful clubs, soulful people, and traveling with (and without) moving are gone forever.
Damn, I missed you.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Sunday, October 21, 2007
No Networked: Red Red Rewine
The red wine buzz wore off thanks to some healthy pizza rolls on sale from Wild Oats and some “Bedtime” Yogi (like Yoga not like Bear or Berra) Tea. I am trying to write to infuse some tiredness into my body, which is recovering from a cold but contracted insomnia.
Soul music only after midnight; I am perturbed by the green squiggly line when my grammar ain’t right. More so, I am worried that I have not written a damn thing about fall break or more importantly my two interviews. (Two real ones, we don’t count the OCI also rans.)
Pointless hobnobbing (wow, that’s a real word, I was waiting for the squiggly line) with the crème de la crème (makes me want to buy a Lacoste multicolor tennis shirt) of the town's Legal Community, who still haven’t hired me thanks to a few professors and my inability to think like them.
But I had fun, it was like a modified Pimps gathering/high school prom, complete with a community leader/pastor receiving an award. But it was a modified Pimps gathering due to the overdressed men, and underdressed women. Too much cleavage, I mean I been clubbing all over the world, and I think I saw more cleavage tonight than all the times I went out in Tokyo and London. (And London gots the finest women.)
Sigh. But I think this was the first time in laul skool that people who actually put work in got what they deserved. All the scholarship winners deserved it. They worked, persevered and rightfully won. Unlike, outlining and studying till your pons and medulla hurts and then getting a B (hell, ok, B-). You felt like you missed out on a sale at Nordstrom’s. (We’re at a second tier, so, Kohl’s.)
Next time, I’m making the “whoredurves”, since the main course was like a property lecture on Friday. It was awful and incomprehensible. Who the fuck eats cold Chinese noodles? There is no such thing as cold Thai, Chinese, Vietmamese noodles. That was some bogus wannabe fusion that failed. Food needs an anti-miscegnation statute. (Only cold noodles are Soba and maybe (maybe) Udon. That’s Japanese, damn it, noodles came from Asia, and like Asians, they may sort of look alike, but they are not the same. And they are not all cold. Only Asian women age 20 to 25 (couldn’t resist)). The chicken and rice were cold too. Now if the red wine wasn’t hitting, then we would have a problem.
Yes, the stories were good, and I was so buzzed that I would have enjoyed sitting through a civil procedure class in Polish taught by an Argentine. The tea went to my head, and I put on my relaxing/weed smoking song so I’m chill. (Don’t worry, no Mary Jane here.) The Hills of my Hometown. My old Acura. College Likes. High School Crushes. Late Night Trips to Fast Food Joints. When My Friend Brought that Stuff Back From Amsterdam. Never mind, what was I writing about? Yeah, I had a good time. I love people watching in different social settings. However, networking and grades work together. I wish I could break down the real to the hapless new students. But if your grades are not good enough to get you in the door, then it doesn’t matter if you know 20 partners and 15 judges. Even if your grades get you in the door, and you have some extracurricular credential, it still does not mean you will get the job. Essentially, networking only counts if your mentor (daddy, former professor, etc.) is like “that” with the partner or shot callers. If not, you knowing them are like me knowing Sean “Puffy/P.Diddy/Diddy” Combs. It is pointless. Grades are still the TSA workers. Yes, grades alone may not get you the job, but it will have you wearing a suit everyday of OCI. Wearing a suit everyday for OCI is like being a groupie in LA, one of these times you’ll get an athlete or an actor, or at least a car ride to San Diego with Jerry Buss. Digression, essentially, even if you have the personality of a non-rechargable Rayovac battery, with 20 plus interviews, someone will hire you. They have too because besides bulldog-pitbull courtroom poseurs and smooth talking and sexy negotiators, firms live off of Rayovac (not even Duracell) batteries. And if its grades vs. grades + connections, grades may still lose out. But networking just with your charm minus grades or with just good/ok grades ain’t gonna work.
But it was cool, seeing a professor of mine, drinking a Budwiser straight out of the bottle. And yes, I still think she’s cool, even if her teaching skills are a bit bland. Judges and lawyers cracking their blander failed sitcom jokes, which we all laugh along, there should be an “applause” sign at these gatherings, or maybe a hype man. “Ok, Lawyers, now clap!” Even if your mind was wandering, and wondering why that reporter in the News Intro segment had a yellow jacket and a pinky ring, hype man would say, “Now clap, lawyers!” and now “Stand up” “clap.” I wished I could be up there giving the keynote, I would have said, “No, its cool, you can sit down, I don’t need a ‘forced’ standing ovation.” “Waiter, more wine and give that woman falling out of her dress a partner…..I mean a partnership, and a jacket, please.”
And no seconds? I think a desert tray passed around by the waiters would have been the icing on a great night.
I should get used to these situations anyway. Now, the post conversations about the interviews, that’s another blog. All I can say is I can read people like pit bosses. And what about that old adage: you don’t talk about religion, politics, (and sex?) when you first meet someone. Shit is crazy. Like the wine staying in my head for an hour plus, that I came so damn close to bidding a Ron Artest CD on Ebay, now that would have been worse than cold Chinese/Vietnamese noodles.
Soul music only after midnight; I am perturbed by the green squiggly line when my grammar ain’t right. More so, I am worried that I have not written a damn thing about fall break or more importantly my two interviews. (Two real ones, we don’t count the OCI also rans.)
Pointless hobnobbing (wow, that’s a real word, I was waiting for the squiggly line) with the crème de la crème (makes me want to buy a Lacoste multicolor tennis shirt) of the town's Legal Community, who still haven’t hired me thanks to a few professors and my inability to think like them.
But I had fun, it was like a modified Pimps gathering/high school prom, complete with a community leader/pastor receiving an award. But it was a modified Pimps gathering due to the overdressed men, and underdressed women. Too much cleavage, I mean I been clubbing all over the world, and I think I saw more cleavage tonight than all the times I went out in Tokyo and London. (And London gots the finest women.)
Sigh. But I think this was the first time in laul skool that people who actually put work in got what they deserved. All the scholarship winners deserved it. They worked, persevered and rightfully won. Unlike, outlining and studying till your pons and medulla hurts and then getting a B (hell, ok, B-). You felt like you missed out on a sale at Nordstrom’s. (We’re at a second tier, so, Kohl’s.)
Next time, I’m making the “whoredurves”, since the main course was like a property lecture on Friday. It was awful and incomprehensible. Who the fuck eats cold Chinese noodles? There is no such thing as cold Thai, Chinese, Vietmamese noodles. That was some bogus wannabe fusion that failed. Food needs an anti-miscegnation statute. (Only cold noodles are Soba and maybe (maybe) Udon. That’s Japanese, damn it, noodles came from Asia, and like Asians, they may sort of look alike, but they are not the same. And they are not all cold. Only Asian women age 20 to 25 (couldn’t resist)). The chicken and rice were cold too. Now if the red wine wasn’t hitting, then we would have a problem.
Yes, the stories were good, and I was so buzzed that I would have enjoyed sitting through a civil procedure class in Polish taught by an Argentine. The tea went to my head, and I put on my relaxing/weed smoking song so I’m chill. (Don’t worry, no Mary Jane here.) The Hills of my Hometown. My old Acura. College Likes. High School Crushes. Late Night Trips to Fast Food Joints. When My Friend Brought that Stuff Back From Amsterdam. Never mind, what was I writing about? Yeah, I had a good time. I love people watching in different social settings. However, networking and grades work together. I wish I could break down the real to the hapless new students. But if your grades are not good enough to get you in the door, then it doesn’t matter if you know 20 partners and 15 judges. Even if your grades get you in the door, and you have some extracurricular credential, it still does not mean you will get the job. Essentially, networking only counts if your mentor (daddy, former professor, etc.) is like “that” with the partner or shot callers. If not, you knowing them are like me knowing Sean “Puffy/P.Diddy/Diddy” Combs. It is pointless. Grades are still the TSA workers. Yes, grades alone may not get you the job, but it will have you wearing a suit everyday of OCI. Wearing a suit everyday for OCI is like being a groupie in LA, one of these times you’ll get an athlete or an actor, or at least a car ride to San Diego with Jerry Buss. Digression, essentially, even if you have the personality of a non-rechargable Rayovac battery, with 20 plus interviews, someone will hire you. They have too because besides bulldog-pitbull courtroom poseurs and smooth talking and sexy negotiators, firms live off of Rayovac (not even Duracell) batteries. And if its grades vs. grades + connections, grades may still lose out. But networking just with your charm minus grades or with just good/ok grades ain’t gonna work.
But it was cool, seeing a professor of mine, drinking a Budwiser straight out of the bottle. And yes, I still think she’s cool, even if her teaching skills are a bit bland. Judges and lawyers cracking their blander failed sitcom jokes, which we all laugh along, there should be an “applause” sign at these gatherings, or maybe a hype man. “Ok, Lawyers, now clap!” Even if your mind was wandering, and wondering why that reporter in the News Intro segment had a yellow jacket and a pinky ring, hype man would say, “Now clap, lawyers!” and now “Stand up” “clap.” I wished I could be up there giving the keynote, I would have said, “No, its cool, you can sit down, I don’t need a ‘forced’ standing ovation.” “Waiter, more wine and give that woman falling out of her dress a partner…..I mean a partnership, and a jacket, please.”
And no seconds? I think a desert tray passed around by the waiters would have been the icing on a great night.
I should get used to these situations anyway. Now, the post conversations about the interviews, that’s another blog. All I can say is I can read people like pit bosses. And what about that old adage: you don’t talk about religion, politics, (and sex?) when you first meet someone. Shit is crazy. Like the wine staying in my head for an hour plus, that I came so damn close to bidding a Ron Artest CD on Ebay, now that would have been worse than cold Chinese/Vietnamese noodles.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Not Tonight
No. I want to (write). But I have no time to (write). It is late. Too late to (write). Roisin's voice is trying to keep me awake. But I'm about to turn off "Sing It Back" and get back to bed.
(Does this count as (writing) again?)
(Does this count as (writing) again?)
Wednesday, March 7, 2007
Out of Time / Flashpoint 2/24/07
I ran out of time to accomplish everything, and falling a bit more behind in Criminal Law. Bernhard Goetz, vigilante? hero? victim reacting? or racist bastard?
anyhow, is outlining pointless, 'cos once you get behind, it just damn impossible to get done.
I'm sick of soup and sandwiches, and even gourmet TV dinners don't cut it no more.
Need some Harolds' (no I don't that shit is bad for me)
Flashpoint: 2/24/07
what the fuck am I doin' ordering Dave Hollister CDs on the internet? I never really liked his material, I mean good voice, bad song writing. But I think I worn out "R." and I need something "citified" or "urban" for me to listen to. I think I just have to keep myself being myself, i.e. I can't forget about what makes me.....me....damn it. And since being in here, I can't listen to any white music, I mean I love Franz Ferdinand, Blur, Wilco and all, but I can't listen to it, and I can't listen to anything white college kids like....see NO Jurassic 5 (my homeboy from ATL calls it "barbershop hip-hop") and no Gnarls Barkley. And I left my Mellencamp CDs at home. I think I miss urbanity whether its Chicago or Tokyo, see the playlist. I'm not letting this whole process overwhelm or stress me, and part of it is to retain my essence and music is part of it. Real soul music from Northern soul, underground pretensious shit, and shit only Black people, Jimmy,and Japanese soul heads listen to.
Talk about things, Asian, yes, we have to do ethnic food, as me and my lunch buddy found the best Korean place outside of Yokohama, not that I ever kicked it in Yokohama, just heard there was a lot of Koreans there. I need that ethnic-Asian food day, its like a comfort food for me. It is not necessary good for me, but it keeps me sane. In my old city, I used to go to this Chinese spot on Broadway for lunch everytime I was feeling down or lost. The hot and sour soup, and General Tso's Chicken that could feed 1/2 the North Korean army always hits the spot.
Thanks to me for helping me find me this semester.
anyhow, is outlining pointless, 'cos once you get behind, it just damn impossible to get done.
I'm sick of soup and sandwiches, and even gourmet TV dinners don't cut it no more.
Need some Harolds' (no I don't that shit is bad for me)
Flashpoint: 2/24/07
what the fuck am I doin' ordering Dave Hollister CDs on the internet? I never really liked his material, I mean good voice, bad song writing. But I think I worn out "R." and I need something "citified" or "urban" for me to listen to. I think I just have to keep myself being myself, i.e. I can't forget about what makes me.....me....damn it. And since being in here, I can't listen to any white music, I mean I love Franz Ferdinand, Blur, Wilco and all, but I can't listen to it, and I can't listen to anything white college kids like....see NO Jurassic 5 (my homeboy from ATL calls it "barbershop hip-hop") and no Gnarls Barkley. And I left my Mellencamp CDs at home. I think I miss urbanity whether its Chicago or Tokyo, see the playlist. I'm not letting this whole process overwhelm or stress me, and part of it is to retain my essence and music is part of it. Real soul music from Northern soul, underground pretensious shit, and shit only Black people, Jimmy,and Japanese soul heads listen to.
Talk about things, Asian, yes, we have to do ethnic food, as me and my lunch buddy found the best Korean place outside of Yokohama, not that I ever kicked it in Yokohama, just heard there was a lot of Koreans there. I need that ethnic-Asian food day, its like a comfort food for me. It is not necessary good for me, but it keeps me sane. In my old city, I used to go to this Chinese spot on Broadway for lunch everytime I was feeling down or lost. The hot and sour soup, and General Tso's Chicken that could feed 1/2 the North Korean army always hits the spot.
Thanks to me for helping me find me this semester.
Tuesday, March 6, 2007
Was supposed to be a good day
Today was supposed to be a good day. I resolve my memo a bit with a meeting with my writing Prof. I conversed with a professor about music, traveling, and "the scene" in the Chi (talked about the Hothouse and some shows there). She actually knew what I was talking about when I mentioned Bad Boy Bill and Marshall Jefferson (not that I was surprised considering where she was from). And she mentioned EBTG (thought they came to a nearby venue, but it was BNH, I told her, I would have dropped everything, class, studying to go see EBTG and hangout with Tracey and Ben), and she agreed that Walking Wounded is one of the best albums post 1990. We got on the subject discussing Gnarls Barkley, which she admits made some awful material. No one at the school, can relate on that level. I was like we're cool now, right, after she mentioned EBTG, one of my favorites of all time.
so, my day was going ok, Con Law got cancelled. Then, when I came home, something about 7 years ago from another state came home to bite my ass. It took the wind out of my sails, and wasted about an hour of my time. Still made headway on Con Law outline, though not much else. I hate this shit, there is never enough time for anything. Law school, I can't stand it.
But a few Mike Tyson sound bites re-brightened up my day. "I'm maybe very bizzare sometimes, but I'm very rational." Classic
so, my day was going ok, Con Law got cancelled. Then, when I came home, something about 7 years ago from another state came home to bite my ass. It took the wind out of my sails, and wasted about an hour of my time. Still made headway on Con Law outline, though not much else. I hate this shit, there is never enough time for anything. Law school, I can't stand it.
But a few Mike Tyson sound bites re-brightened up my day. "I'm maybe very bizzare sometimes, but I'm very rational." Classic
Sunday, March 4, 2007
Work: "More" or less
I hate my memo, and I cannot narrow it down any more. Luckily, I'm going to meet with my professor tomorrow. I hate this shit. And I did not spend enough time outlining this weekend. I started my Con Law outline, but then after I had my soup and sandwich, instead of doing about 40 minutes of "more" work; I decided to watch the end of Santa Clara vs. St. Mary, like it was '93 and a Canadian guy named Nash was playing.
Then I watched some low lights of Showtime at the Apollo. I used to think it was funny as hell, when the people were getting booed of the stage. Now, I feel sorry for the people who got booed. I mean who the fuck do the audience think they are, half of them (including the Puerto Rickans, white and Asian Tourists in the crowd) don't even got the balls or the know how to get a Master's degree from Walden University or DeVry, let alone go on stage. I also know how it feels to fail so miserably, and be at the lowest of the low, where you want to listen to Portishead, and slit your wrists. Shit ain't funny, but like Dave Chappelle said, sometimes, when you bomb (or fail), you then know that it wasn't that bad, failing doesn't mean it is the end of the world.
I'm sick of this academic hoop jumping, and I ain't even stressing over my daily readings like I was last semester. I'm having some ice cream and going to bed after this.
And I'm yearning for early to mid 1990s music lately, I feel older. Like when I saw my classmate, J, literary aged right in front of my eyes, and my boy, C, who I sit next to in two classes got gray hair all of a sudden this year. I swear Law School will do that to you.
Less chill and a bit more work this week, and I will feel better when the memo is cut down, and Wed. when one assignment will be knocked out.
Then I watched some low lights of Showtime at the Apollo. I used to think it was funny as hell, when the people were getting booed of the stage. Now, I feel sorry for the people who got booed. I mean who the fuck do the audience think they are, half of them (including the Puerto Rickans, white and Asian Tourists in the crowd) don't even got the balls or the know how to get a Master's degree from Walden University or DeVry, let alone go on stage. I also know how it feels to fail so miserably, and be at the lowest of the low, where you want to listen to Portishead, and slit your wrists. Shit ain't funny, but like Dave Chappelle said, sometimes, when you bomb (or fail), you then know that it wasn't that bad, failing doesn't mean it is the end of the world.
I'm sick of this academic hoop jumping, and I ain't even stressing over my daily readings like I was last semester. I'm having some ice cream and going to bed after this.
And I'm yearning for early to mid 1990s music lately, I feel older. Like when I saw my classmate, J, literary aged right in front of my eyes, and my boy, C, who I sit next to in two classes got gray hair all of a sudden this year. I swear Law School will do that to you.
Less chill and a bit more work this week, and I will feel better when the memo is cut down, and Wed. when one assignment will be knocked out.
Saturday, March 3, 2007
Time out of the day/heartburn
I can't decide whether today was productive or not yet. My memo assignment is starting to take on a life of its own, and my friend's complaint (he always say, I've already spend x amount of hours on it already......blah, blah, blah, but point made) rang in my ear. I spend a lot of time trimming it down, but it is still too long, is it time well spend? well, I still have a few more hours to work on it, and it is not even half way there. I hate this shit. No, really I really hate this shit. If you follow the paradigm, there is no question that your memo will go over the limit. What the fuck am I suppose to do?
I finished the draft on the other paper for good, now its the revising/editing phase. I didn't like the theme of this paper that much. Oh, substantive/doctrinal course, yeah, I have those too. (shaking my head) It is not possible to do all of this at once, but hell, we knew that already. I reset the structure to my Con Law outline, and then with my heartburn decided to call it a night.
I don't know what caused this. Was it the late effects of a greasy ass egg roll (the wrapping wasn't even like a Vietnamese eggroll, I mean you can fool these white folks in this outpost, but you can't fool me, hell, I used to live......) or was it mall food I shouldn't have eaten. Or was it that hot come of cream of broccoli, which sounded like a good idea at the time. Even more so than law school, you can't fuck with brocolli or Albert Brocolli. With the help of heartburn, I closed my books, and decided to come down to listen to some TTD, EBTG, and Rahsaan.
Funny, how I always return to the same CDs, even if I have about 500 in my collection, and if I could just have Walking Wounded and Love in Stereo with me and nothing else, I would almost be satisfied. Now if I can just sleep.
the time move on anyway, two weeks to break.
I finished the draft on the other paper for good, now its the revising/editing phase. I didn't like the theme of this paper that much. Oh, substantive/doctrinal course, yeah, I have those too. (shaking my head) It is not possible to do all of this at once, but hell, we knew that already. I reset the structure to my Con Law outline, and then with my heartburn decided to call it a night.
I don't know what caused this. Was it the late effects of a greasy ass egg roll (the wrapping wasn't even like a Vietnamese eggroll, I mean you can fool these white folks in this outpost, but you can't fool me, hell, I used to live......) or was it mall food I shouldn't have eaten. Or was it that hot come of cream of broccoli, which sounded like a good idea at the time. Even more so than law school, you can't fuck with brocolli or Albert Brocolli. With the help of heartburn, I closed my books, and decided to come down to listen to some TTD, EBTG, and Rahsaan.
Funny, how I always return to the same CDs, even if I have about 500 in my collection, and if I could just have Walking Wounded and Love in Stereo with me and nothing else, I would almost be satisfied. Now if I can just sleep.
the time move on anyway, two weeks to break.
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