Nature, Civilization and You

After my trip to Arizona, where we spent a lot of time outside and interacted quite a bit with our lovely fellow human freakin' beings as well, I've given a lot of thought to the outdoors vs. the
comforts of civilization. Though I'm basically the outdoor type, I've come to the conclusion that each one has its things to recommend it and its things that are a real pain in the ass. So, I've made a little list, since I'm trying to be more organized these days, and thought I'd share it with you.

OK, the outdoors - on the plus side, natural hot springs, mmm. On the minus side, there will already be a fat, drunk man from Texas in there sipping liquor from a plastic mug telling you 'this is the life'. You will not be so sure.
Civilization: on the plus side, nice hotels with hot tubs. On the minus side, no matter how many times you see it empty, when you go down there hoping to make out with your girlfriend, a fat sober man from Arkansas and his talkative wife will suddenly appear and get in there with you. You will want to drown them.

Civilization: plus side: Indoor bathrooms with flushing toilets. Minus side: a long line of fat women will be waiting outside after you've dragged your ass out of the Grand Canyon and had to pee for two hours. You will want to pee on them.
Outdoors: plus side: no lines. You just pee behind the nearest bush. Minus side: you are peeing outdoors. Also, a fat, huffing student from UA will suddenly show up from around the bend before you get your pants up. You will want to pee on him.

The Outdoors: plus side: Snow is gorgeous. Minus side: snow is cold.
Civilization: Plus side: well done decor is gorgeous. Minus side: you can't eat on it. You will have to sit near squealing children to get a bagel. You will wonder why you quit drinking and reconsider the decision.

The Outdoors: plus side: the last few steps of an ambitious hike give you such a sense of accomplishment, and food never tasted so good. Minus side: your ass will hurt for 6 days from the hills and the sense of accomplishment doesn't last as long as the pain.
Civilization: plus side: elevators. One floor to many floors away with no effort. Truly a great invention. Minus side: You will be stuck in there with a fat drunk man from Texas and a woman wearing enough cologne to choke someone. You will want to choke her, or just have the man from Texas sit on her head. You will get off and take the stairs. You will wish bad things on both of them. They will stay on the elevator and make it smell.

Those are just a few thoughts. I suppose nothing is all good or bad. Except me. I'm all good, baby, and don't you forget it.

A REAL closing argument

The longer I'm in law school, the more I think that like most areas of life, the law has just gotten too complicated. We have a 1L closing argument competition coming up, which I think I'm going to enter just because there is this really arrogant chick I totally want to beat. Hey, it's as good a reason as any.
So today we got all these instructions. Stand up. Say this. Wear that. Structure your argument this way and that way. Come up with a theme. A theme? So 50 people are going to prance in front of the jury saying "this reminds me of....." a pickle. Having gas. Soup kitchens. Man, I'm glad I won't be in that jury box, which some of our professors will. I'd be failing somebody just for being an idiot. "What do you mean this case reminds you of your socks because it smells bad too? You fail. No, not just out of the competition, you fail my class too. Go ask somebody to knock some sense into you. NEXT!"
So I don't see why things have to be so complicated. Maybe just for the hell of it I'll say someting like "Members of the jury, this asshole killed this redneck because the redneck was the repo man and the asshole was a drunk loser who needed his car to get back to the liquor store. if you don't find the asshole liable, you're just as stupid as he is" then go sit down. It should get me in under the 5 minute time limit and hey, maybe I'll just win this thing because I did something different.

Helpful Bears

Here we see a Go Bear, native to Tonto National Forest, visiting with a Snow Man. Contrary to popular belief, all bears are not dangerous creatures, and Go Bears actually make excellent pets and travelling companions. They can also be very helpful. Here, Go Bear has noticed that Icy Joe has no arms, and is asking if he can do anything. After this picture was taken, Go Bear went to find Icy Joe a carrot and a top hat.

Go Bears differ from most bears in other important respects as well. For instance, Go Bears tend to be very small, and are usually filled with stuffing. Because of this, they don't smell as bad as most other types of bears, and if they get too dirty, will respond well to your average washing machine. These wonders of nature are truly worth getting to know better, but one should be forewarned they do not usually survive interactions with puppies, teething children or fishtanks.

Improvident lesbians in the snow

My girlfriend and I went to Arizona over spring break with a tent and lots of plans that didn't work out. I am not a fan of planning anyway. Weathermen are liars who make stuff up to amuse themselves, and anyway, sometimes planned stops are silly as a bowl of mice and unplanned stops are surprisingly cool. It was a very good time overall, and we hiked trails in any number of parks and I didn't have to read one law book, which might have been the best part. I did read a Jeanette Winterson novel on the plane out there and cried three times, which the weird guy next to us tactfully ignored. But then, he was reading books checked out of a middle school library and I looked over to see him highlighting 'Oiuja board' in an assiduous way. It made me regret giving him gum, because he probably could have used the pressure on his head upon takeoff.
Our last hiking adventure was the fault of snickering weathermen who said it had warmed up at the grand canyon. We drove most of the day to find a foot of snow on the ground and no choice but to set up camp in it. We read in the little park newspaper that the "TOP" of the trail we planned to hike might have some ice on it. Assuming "top" meant like 500 yards, and that 'little' meant 'little', we optimistically hit the trail at dawn with no hiking poles or crampons. If you don't know what crampons are, they are little spikes you strap to your boots in the ice unless you are an idiot. Well, it turns out "top" meant the first two miles, and "a little ice" meant we should have been skating down the damn thing, only I can't skate. Keep in mind this trail is about as steep as attic stairs or the sagging boobs in National Geographic. On a good day, it is not for the faint of heart, or leg, or ass.
After the ice came the mud and enormous puddles. After that came the rocks. We hiked 4+ miles down to Indian Gardens, a truly gorgeous spot where I guess Indians used to grow squash and stuff, but that meant the climb back out was harder than 6 property exams, a weekend with your Baptist mother-in-law and trying to talk sense to Republican all rolled up into one - especially the icy part, where I had to think about Batman to drag my ass out for that last fucking mile. Batman would just wrap his cape around him against the 20 degree wind and trudge on uncomplainingly; I managed to pull my cap over my ears and bitch, but I did get to the top. Some one should shoot me for being so stupid as to take that hike on with no equipment. Someone else will have to; I'm still too tired.

law school, midterms and motherf*ckers

Well, it's midterms time again, and the building is rank with the smell of flop sweat and cheeseburgers. These people should eat better. Maybe they wouldn't be so constipated looking. The thing is that I have a really bad cold and have been heavily medicated for the past few days, which just isn't a good thing. I can be a little cranky (like a kicked skunk or your average fat republican) on a good day, but on antihistamines, I just want to bitch slap some stupid fucker with a long handled shovel. Or lots of stupid fuckers, actually. I say shovel because my hands are small and a shovel covers so much more head area.
There are several people in particular I would like to hit with shovels. Or maybe ball peen hammers. I have decided to take the high road, though, and am hereby taking up collections to get them operations to keep their hands down and their fool mouths shut. So far I only have enough to buy three muzzles. Maybe I will spend the money on a shovel instead, that way I can keep it and use it to work in the garden this summer. I need a garden because I don't eat fucking cheeseburgers.
Here are a few tips for any future law students out there so your classmates won't want to beat or muzzle or buy operations for you. First, classes are not your private tutoring sessions. Second, nobody cares what you 'thought'. You were wrong. Shutup. The professor is not going to say "oh, I never thought of it that way! how brillliant! Let me call congress right away and get the law changed! Why don't you teach the class while I'm gone?" 3. Tutoring sessions are not time for the You show. Nobody is there to hear you. Once again, shut up. Don't make me get my shovel.

law students and their smells

Today is picture day for the various clubs, so I decided to wear something decent and brush my hair for a change. I have noticed that as students, we're divided into two camps in this respect; half of us deck out like we're lawyers already, and the other half look like we were dressed by a mound of chickens. I tend to belong to the latter group.
Or maybe I look more like I was dressed by my cats. My cats each own one collar, and wear it every day. They also wear the same fur coat everyday and sometimes they smell a little. Like my cats, I will wear the shit out of something. Unlike my cats, I don't lick my coats clean. That just takes too much time.
I have also noticed that the people who dress like we're getting paid for this often seem to be getting attacked by cologne bandits on their way to school every day. I often take the stairs not because I enjoy dragging 40 pounds of books up them eight times a day, but because the fucking elevator stinks. So does the library and all other enclosed areas. Here's a tip, people; if you want some space, just say 'get the hell away from me'; there is no reason to knock down everybody in a ten foot radius with your scented lotion, body spray and perfume. I will buy you some soap, man. You can take a shower in the amount of time it takes to spray yourself down with all that shit and the rest of us will be grateful.
Speaking of perfume, I will be so glad when this vanilla fad is over. I just don't understand why a grown woman would want to go around smelling like an old pastry. "MMM, you remind me of crusty muffins!" Not professional, not sexy, not cool. There are 400 of us in this building and about half of us already smell like the chickens who dressed us, so put the bottle down, chick, before I attack you with chicken-flavored frosting.