Monday, April 30, 2007

Loud Talker on the Red Line #6

Loud Talker's Friend (in a semi hushed tone): Umm. I think that blonde girl just took a picture of us with her camera phone.

Loud Talker: I know! ohmygod. That's so creepy.

OK, bitches. Maybe it was a little weird that I didn't even try to hide that I took your picture BUT YOU WERE JUST THAT FUCKING ANNOYING. And yeah, I suppose I wish you didn't get off at my stop and it's maybe not the coolest that we go to the same school, but whatever, I'm officially done with class. You're an undergrad anyway. You can suck it. Here's what I learned about you.

1. Your parents, like have this totally awesome kitchen, and like an awesome fridge, and they like stock every kind of alcohol you could ever think of, and you and your friends like TOTALLY trashed it.

2. You, like met your boyfriend when you were like, 14, but then his parents moved him to Ohio, so like you guys just lost touch, but then you met back up at Chapel Hill when you were visiting. He's soooooooo sweet. And totally like, mature.

3. Oh my god. Your feet hurt, like SO bad. (She then takes off her shoes ON THE FUCKING EL) You showed your friend your nasty asss blister that you got from your awesome new shoes, but they're so cute, that the blisters are worth it.

4. You are like so sick of night classes. But ohmygod. Day classes suck too. School, just like sucks.

5. The weather is totally making your hair just bleh. It's driving you totally crazy.

6. You like totally wish you lived in New York. It's just so cool. People are just, like, you know. Like totally real in New York.

I know the picture quality isn't the best. Sorry. Well, not really. Who really cares.

This posting is dedicated to Scott over at the Burton Report. Thanks for my cool banner! Go Matt Leinart!

Saturday, April 28, 2007


I’m really glad April is almost over. Does everyone know that April is National Sexual Assault Awareness month? It’s also National Poetry Month. Anyone who knows me well would know that I really don’t like April. Poetry everywhere I look. Rhymes. Iambic pentameter, even the odd limerick puts me sort of on edge. Poetry advocates wearing green shirts all over the place. Constant reminders of Browning, Joyce, Shakespeare.

Lifetime TV for women movies of the week with titles like “mother may I sleep with stanzas?” and “She cried no! Then Blow, Then Row! Go Joe Go!” And one wonders why I love me my xanax something fierce.

I know the idea of having national poetry month is a good idea. Everyone should know about poetry and different ways of protecting themselves from it, and even be able to know in some cases, what poetry is, and be able to identify it by name, and to know what they should do should they be faced with poetry in their own lives.

But I have to say, on behalf of those who know more about poetry than most people ever should, and are forced to reread it again and again and again, so much that every syllable of every line is memorized, we could deal without a month of anthologies and poetry lessons thrown in our face. For some of us, every month is poetry month. Is it that wrong that sometimes some people just want to forget poetry ever existed? Maybe that could be respected, too. Poetry prevention is important, but so is sensitivity to those who’ve been forced to read it.

MAY is-
National High Blood Pressure Awareness Month
National Bicycle Month
National Foster Care Month
National Stroke Awareness Month
National Historic Preservation Month
AND… National Masturbation Month Yay May.

Thursday, April 26, 2007


is officially my last day of law school classes. I have a makeup day for Vag & the Law (wouldn't it be funny if on the makeup day in feminist jurisprudence, we all like, learned how to properly apply mascara?)

Anyway. I'm turning in my 33 page piece of crap also known as my Senior Seminar paper. Yay me! It's printing out now. Then I''m going to class. Then I'm getting really really drunk. All are welcome to join me at that bar downstairs.

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

First Year Law Students- A Haiku

It's the library.
I am not here to hear you.
Please shut the fuck up.

Sunday, April 22, 2007


Finally. A health study I can get behind.

Friday, April 20, 2007

Letters From My Family

Letter #1 from Dad (includes check)

Dearest Grace:

Enclosed is my check for your earnest money. Although I might seem hesitant, I am really behind this project and hope you get the apartment. (I just hate the word "Condo" It sounds like a birth control device.)

I am looking forward to your announcement that you have got the job.


Letter #2 from my sister (includes tube of makeup or something)


I'm sorry we fought and I'm sorry you felt I was being critical of you. You have to try this eye cream. My client says he sells it to patients to cover up scars and dark circles. Thought you could use it for the circles under your eyes. (Yes. I noticed!) Use SPARINGLY.


Wednesday, April 18, 2007

My Two Cents on Law School Rankings.

I've seen on various message boards and heard a lot of people talking lately about law school rankings. Which schools have fallen, which schools have risen, and whether or not it was warranted etc...These discussions can get pretty mean. I think it's weird and I don't really like it. Not because of my school's ranking which I don't think is terribly high or terribly low. I don't really know or care. I'm pretty confident that my personal inferiority isn't affected by these rankings. I still am bothered by the shit talking, though. Here's why:

First of all, let's assume that these rankings have any validity at all, I find it, for lack of a better word, gauche to go on about it. The same way it's gauche to discuss how much money you make, or how much your car costs. It's tacky. The person driving the Ford knows that the person driving the Lexus spent more money. No need to point it out. It doesn't need to be discussed. (The fact that those with the nicest cars can still be the worst drivers is besides the point).

Bragging about law school rankings reminds me of when an NFL football player scores a touchdown and spends the next five minutes congratulating himself, forgetting that (duhhhhh!!) the reason why they get their million dollar salaries is that touchdowns are expected of them. If you're that smart, and that gifted, why do you have to run around advertising it through your prestigious law school? Unless of course, (gasp) deep down inside, you don't think you really belong there.

Something I found interesting was that it's not even the top four or five law schools who are doing the shit talking. It's more like the top middle. But guess what? Top middle is still just that. Middle. You're bragging about being a little better in the middle. You are really only one grade point, LSAT point, or blowjob away from a law school slightly higher in the middle or slightly lower in the middle than the one you are at right now. It's no biggie. Almost all of us are in the middle.

Law School administrators work like crazy to boost their rankings for one purpose, and it's not an overwhelming concern for the quality of your education. A better ranking means a justification for our law schools to drive us further into six figure debt by raising tuition. Really. That's all.

Lastly, what does the ranking actually do for you? The top 10% of my class were offered the same jobs at the same firms as the top 10% of your class. The C students at my school are struggling to find jobs the same way the C students at your school are struggling to find jobs. Your higher ranked school won't get you a job at the State's Attorney's office or the Public Defender's office if you haven't logged the man hours working there for free. Just like us. We're both equally fucked when someone with an influential father wants the job we want.

If you actually need to define yourself by your law school's ranking, chances are you are a douchebag. If you feel that you are somehow superior to me because of your law school's ranking, chances are really good that your law school will be the only thing "top tier" about you.

Why be mean?

Now I have to get my very highly ranked ass to Wills & Trusts.

Monday, April 16, 2007

Now I think the Universe is Trying to Tell Me Something

Ok. So first, I am haunted by the phantom vibrator. THEN, today I was really really anxious because any day now, I'm supposed to find out if I got the job, so I spent a lot of the day running around, pacing, doing little errands, going for walks and I remember thinking of the phrase "I've got ants in my pants."

And then I decided I needed to relax. So I took a half a xanax, poured a glass of cabernet, and turned on Dancing With the Stars. About half way through a Samba, I looked down, and there was an ant crawling out of the bottom of my jeans. I actually had an ant in my pants.

In the news:

Does anyone find this news story a little...I don't or something? Probably not something a wannabe prosecutor should say, huh?

Sunday, April 15, 2007

Law School, Ghosts, and Condos- an update.

So my blog is a "blawg" because it's supposedly law related. But I don't think I've mentioned anything about the law, or law school in a really long time. So in order to secure my blawg status, here's an update on my law school life:
- My feminist jurisprudence class (aka Vag & the law) is cancelled for tomorrow. As it turns out, I'm not such a great feminist.
- I have a 30 page paper due in less than two weeks on "Overcoming Hurdles in the Prosecution of Online Sexual Predators." I picked the topic before I found out there's a 95% conviction rate. So there are virtually no hurdles to overcome. I fucking suck at life.
- Wills & Trusts... umm...I haven't been there a while.
- My externship is actually pretty good. No complaints. BIG CASE going on right now. Very exciting.
- I have not found out about the job yet, and thank you for not asking.

OK. That was boring. Glad it's over. So I think my nightstand is being haunted by the Ghost of Vibrators Past. I'm not kidding. I wake up in the middle of the night to something that sounds like, well... a buzzing vibration noise. Something that a buzzing, vibrating mechanism that a female might keep in her nightstand drawer, might make. So, then I open the drawer, and any buzzing vibrating mechanisms that this female may or may not have in her nightstand drawer are off. One of them may or may not even have batteries in it. So I try and go back to sleep, and then the buzzing sound comes back! Also, people say that animals can see ghosts and phantoms and things, and I have seen my dog barking while staring at the nightstand. And she does not just randomly bark. Well, sometimes she barks at maki rolls. Which is just retarded.

On an unrelated note, I found a condo, and I negotiated the price myself, albeit 3 years of law school and my best negotiating strategy included crying, but it turned out pretty well! My new fridge lets you choose between cubed and crushed ice. And there's a dishwasher. And other stuff like that.

Thursday, April 12, 2007

Dear Pretty Much Everyone I Know,

Ok. Here's the deal: I'm really really scared about whether or not I'm going to get this job. It's pretty much all I think about. So please, please PLEASE stop asking me about it. I know it's not your intention to be the catalyst for yet another full blown panic attack when you casually say, "Hey, so ya hear anything about the job yet?" but you really need to know the effect it has on me. Please please please just trust me that as soon as I hear anything at all YOU ALL WILL BE THE FIRST TO KNOW. I will not keep my employment a secret from anyone. I promise. I will be shouting it from the fucking rooftops if I get the job. And if I don't, well. I'll still make sure you all know so you can come over with bottles of liquor. Oh, and another inappropriate question: "So what do you think the CHANCES are that they'll hire you?" Really? Really? Come on! You want me to break it down to Las Vegas odds? Please don't make me do that to myself. Ok. I'm already doing it to myself. Just don't make me say it out loud. It's a long shot, ok? But I am remaining hopeful. Please. Stop. Asking.

And if I can just think forward a bit, here's yet another question you WON'T need to ask... can anyone guess what it is? anyone? Anyone? Ok, if you guessed "So, any news on the bar exam yet?" then you win. Do NOT ask me that question. On behalf of every law student I know, do not ask ANY bar exam taker that question. Ok? Ok. Thanks.

Love, Grace

Harmless Error? Dixie? AllBilly? Fellow 3L's? Anyone else? Am I wrong here? Feel free to back me up....

Loud Talker on the Red Line #5

Office Gossip Douchebags are funny. Ok, this guy works for a lower income housing project, or a series of lower income homes. I wasn't quite sure. He was taking several new employees on tours of the properties. Here's what I learned about him. AND his co-workers:

1. Stephanie does NOT have a good phone voice. One time, Douchebags girlfriend called, and she couldn't even figure out what the womans name was. She was like "Tiffany? Jenny? Melanie?, I totally didn'tunderstand that she was saying Stephanie."

2. Marilyn thinks she's the shit. But she's not. Sometimes you just have to let her have her way, though and be like "oooookay Marilyn!"

3. Everybody who's name is Maria is a bitch. Except for the Maria in payroll, but she's got a weird walk. And she probably has a little drug problem, because she talks WAY too slow to be normal. But she's a nice little person.

4. Douchebag has been working there for a really long time... and once the new girls get the hang of it they'll see there's a "method to his madness".

5. He used to do the Renaissance Fairs with Rick which is how he even got into this line of work. (Doesn't he TOTALLY look like a renaissance fair guy?)

That's all

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

What's wrong, Grace?

Well, since you asked...

1. It's April 11th. And it's fucking snowing.

2. It's April 11th. And I haven't done my taxes yet.

3. It's April 11th. And I haven't found out about whether or not I'm getting hired yet.

On a lighter note, I've decided to get a goldfish.

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

Holli, Kori, and Lilly: On Brushing teeth

While brushing my teeth this morning, I was reminded of this brief snippet of spring break conversation. It made me laugh.

Holli, brushing her teeth, walks away from the sink and sort of wanders around the hotel room.

Kori: I really wish I was the kind of person who could brush her teeth and walk around at the same time. I totally have to stand in front of the sink the whole time.

Holli: Oh my God. I totally wish I could be a person who could stand still at the sink while I brush my teeth. I just can't be still that long.

Lilly: I'm really glad I don't have the problems you two retards have, and can brush my teeth however the fuck I want.

I Sure Miss the Entertainment Industry

Monday, April 09, 2007

Grace & her Mom: Buying a Condo

Grace: Did you like it?

Mom: I did! A lot! But, Honey, doesn't it bother you that it's above a liquor store?

Grace: I actually like that.

Mom: The bedrooms are sort of small. Do you think you may outgrow them?

Grace: I think I stopped growing when I was in my late teens, Mom.

Mom: That's not exactly what I mean.

Grace: Well, if I get sick of it, I can paint it, or redecorate it.

Mom: Again, that's not what I mean.

Grace: What DO you mean? Spit it out.

Mom: Well, your father and I want to know what are the chances you'll find someone to live in this place with you within the next five years? Like in a romantic sense.

Me: (blink)...(blink,blink)...(blank stare)...(blink)...(blink)...I have to pee.

Thursday, April 05, 2007

Points of Disinterest

I ran out of clean clothes today. So I took the day off to buy a new wardrobe from Target (because Target is the new Barney's.) I actually didn't end up buying anything that I could wear to work. But I did buy a pair of suglasses, a snappy hair thingee, and a cute courthouse-inappropriate dress. Then I went and had Gyros. And as I type, I'm feeding my dog little pieces of lamb.

I think my position as the Law School Tart was cemented yesterday when my Feminist Jurisprudence professor said "Grace, could you please explain to the class what a lapdance is?"

While drinking before certain night classes isn't exactly a new thing invented by me, walking into class with a full glass of wine and making no attempt to conceal it in any way, officially makes me the Lindsay Lohan of law school. I fluctuate between shame and pride.

Tuesday, April 03, 2007

Blogging my ASS off: A Trilogy Part III

Dear the woman at the airport who gave her 9 year old daughter Owen Wilson's haircut,

I walked by you and you had ok hair. And your husband had ok hair, and your son... looked like you did the bowl thing, but whatever. And then your adorable cute daughter? What the FUCK were you thinking? Seriously. I think that haircut is child abuse. I'm sorry if you think long hair on a kid is a pain in the ass for YOU, but little girls LIKE LONG HAIR. THEY LIKE PIGTAILS AND BRAIDS, AND CUTE BARRETTES, and you're simply a lazy twat.

I love my mother. She's sweet, and generous, and funny, and gracious and smart. But a part of me wants to choke her for the bad hair choices she made on my behalf as a child. Fuck that. No cute 9 year old girl deserves the haircuts I had. It went WAY beyond the Dorothy Hamill. One time, before a family cruise to the Bahamas, my mom made me get my haircut to look JUST LIKE DON JOHNSON. It was mean. Just because she didn't want to have to bother with making me look presentable, I had to look like the pre-pubescent female Miami Vice. Her convenience led to months of junior high ridicule.

So Lady, seriously. Your kid has the worst haircut on the planet. Don't be a lazy bitch. Give her some fucking braids or something. Do you WANT her to hate you? Because she will.



P.S. On the aforementioned cruise, I got drunk for the first time AND went to 3rd base with the 30 year old Bahamian scuba instructor. I'm not saying it was BECAUSE of the hair, but...well...

Blogging my ASS off: A Trilogy Part II

So, after my fabulously indulgent trip to Mexico, I arrived at Midway airport, took the el to O'Hare Airport to go to Washington D.C. to get my gay on. The Servicemembers Legal Defense Network had their annual dinner, followed by a couple of days lobbying on Capitol Hill in an attempt to get lawmakers to understand the pure douchebaggery that is "Don't Ask Don't Tell".

It's not really my style to care about things, so I'll keep this brief. Don't Ask Don't Tell is a crock of discriminating shit. I spent a lot of time while I was in D.C. with people who had been thrown out of the military under this policy, including a top military recruiter and an Arabic Linguist to name a few. And to think for one second that these people are somehow a threat to national security or whatever dumbfuck argument these homophobic hicks are spouting this week is a true slap in the face to not just the gay servicemembers, but ALL servicemembers.

And while I appreciate the fact that the world is full of different opinions, if you don't agree with me, don't argue with me. Just go fuck yourself. I don't have the attention span for a long lease on any soapbox. And you're likely a complete idiot anyway.

American Idol Beak: Oh MY GOD. SANJAYA HAS GOT TO GO!

Ok. So here are some of the dirtyfabulous moments of this trip.

- Falling in love with the hottest gay man alive. Seriously. HOTTEST. GAY. MAN. ALIVE. And he was so sweet!!! And bought a lot of wine. And made breakfast.
- Walking in on the HOTTESTGAYMANALIVE. having hot sex with a hot latino.
- Seeing the cast of the L Word at the SLDN Dinner, and Cybil Shephard was wearing clown pants and running shoes at a black tie event. It was so weird!
- Making inappropriate jokes in cemetaries.
- Making a deal with my Soldier Girl that whoever dies first actually has to be buried in an actual short bus.
- The Rally on Capital Hill, and listening to people who aren't total douchebags or fuckstains talk about gays in the military.
- Did I mention Soldier Girl and the HOTTESTGAYMANALIVE being two of the coolest people in the history of life?

Blogging my ASS off: A Trilogy Part I

Wow. I feel so...missed. Sorry I haven't written in so long. I've been really busy cultivating my alcohol dependence problem. It's going REALLY well!

So, I had the unique good fortune of spending my Spring Break getting plastered on the beaches of Mexico with two outstanding women, who have been really instrumental in taking the aforementioned substance abuse problem to a whole new level that I simply couldn't have accomplished on my own.

Very early on in the trip, we realized that nothing good could possibly come out of anyone knowing our true identities, so we became:

Kori Amsterdam (porn title= "Kori Goes to Amsterdam"),
Holli Seattle (Porn title= "It's Always Wet in Seattle"), and
Lilly Valencia (Porn title= "Hail to the Chief")

We were all the epitome of chastity. Except when Holli agreed to move to Mexico and live with the bartender who is "pretty sure" he could get her a job at the resort. And when Lilly quizzed a bunch of underage boys about their virginity. And when Kori took one for the team with the gropey catamaran owner who felt her up, to try to get us a ride. On the catamaran, that is.

We were all the epitome of American graciousness. Except for when Lilly called a 10 year old an asshole. And when Holli yelled at a mother of 4 for being a towel nazi. And when all the lights were turned off in the restaurant for a birthday and Kori was stuck in the bathroom in the dark. OH. And when Lilly threw Kori's shoes at birds.

Kori, Holli, and Lilly all fell down at least once. Lilly's fall was probably the most graceful, when she fell into a rose bush (or hibiscus bush depending on who you ask) while getting her picture taken. While carrying 3 beverages, Kori fell into the pool, and DIDN'T SPILL A DROP. It really was fucking amazing. Holli won the drunken fall of the year award, however, when she fell into the kiddie pool while getting drink orders from the other two. Holli also sat on her wine once.

We ate tons of seafood, hotdogs, pizza, and cheesefries. At the same time. We drank tons. We laughed tons. Lilly and Kori showed their ta ta's on the beach. When we got too tired hot and drunk, we played euchre or watched "Will y Grace" en Espanol back in the hotel room.

We talked about anything and everything. Except for law school. It was fucking awesome. I'm sad I'm not still there.