So I'm in law school.  Law school SUCKS.  Ok, that's not entirely true, but we've gotten to the point in the semester when I just don't care anymore, but I still have to study a butt-load for finals so I can get decent grades and maybe get a job and not be a poor, homeless slob after I graduate.  But sometimes, sitting in class, paying attention is beyond me.  Especially when it's my last class of the week and my professor is rambling on and on about union disputes and OH MY GOD PLEASE JUST LET ME GO HOME.  So, these are my notes from the last five minutes of yesterday's Labor Law class.  Explanations are in red.

I. United Steelworkers of America v. American Manufacturing Co.

A. Oh god, I just can’t anymore.

B. Seriously, the only thing I can think about is buying a puppy.

C. DAY MAN (From "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia" episode "The Night Cometh.")

D. AAAAcccchhhhhh

E. 2 more minutes

F. Mr. Rogers is dead... Professor actually said that.

G. Come oonnnnnnnn

H. That’s what she said?  (My professor said, "It's really thick!")

I'm probably the best student ever.

Who else wants to throttle those girls behind us??

So, my favorite holiday is Halloween. Not because we get to dress up in slutty outfits or indulge ourselves in massive amounts of chocolate and not feel terrible about it. No, it's because of the haunted houses. Call me crazy, but I LOVE being scared. I love the adrenaline rush and not knowing when something or someone is about to scare the living shit out of you. So, this Halloween I was looking forward to terrors at Hammond Castle's, Castle of the Damned. Sounds scary, right??

I went with a good friend of mine, Meredith, who was a lot more nervous than I was. As we arrive at our destination, we get in line, only to find ourselves at the mercy of a group of teenage girls giggling and screeching at every movement made. That's right, its THEM! Those girls that you never want to be in front of or behind. They are the most annoying girls in the whole entire world, and you wonder how in the world you ended up less than two feet away from them.

Well, we are in line with them for a good half hour listening to them talk about boys, how scared they are, how they wish the line would move faster, texting, why there weren't more guides, how they think the tour guides are dressed funny. (ok can we be clear that it's Halloween, and the tour guides are dressed up as zombies! its part of the act girls!) This goes on and on and on and on. As we are waiting in line, a woman comes out and starts reciting stories that have happened on the premises. How there was a mental institute on the land before the castle was built, how Mr. Hammond (the owner and builder of the castle) loved to play tricks on his guests, and how his remains were recently moved to a plot next to the castle. At this moment, one of the girl shrieks out, "He's only 500 feet away from us? He is so going to come and get us!". The other girls giggle and then start mocking the woman telling us these stories. They start to complain a little more about how slowly the line is going, and at this point Meredith and I are ready to throttle them. We make a unanimous decision that we cannot be in the tour with these girls!! We know they will ruin the experience. (I am angry at them as I am writing this!)

Finally one of them yells out, "We so shouldn't have come today. It's taking forever and its not even that scary. I came yesterday and the line was so much better. What is going on?" I look back at her and give her the dirtiest look I could muster up and she doesn't say a word after (the power of a dirty look is amazing!). It was pure evil. I am surprised I didn't vocalize my annoyance or lunge at her, but I restrained myself. Turns out we got lucky and were placed in another group who had too few people in it. THANK GOD!! Because as we were going through the haunted house we heard them screaming and laughing the whole way through behind us.

If I were to ever encounter those girls again, I don't know what I would do, but it would be shameful and awesome!! I hope they tripped on something on the way through. I really do.

P.S. it wasn't that scary either. sigh.

The Christmas Child and Possible Kiddie Porn

I've lived with my roommate Cara since August of last year, when we both came to Chicago to attend law school.  I harbor a deep affection for my roommate, and I really don't want anything truly bad to happen to her.   Unfortunately for Cara, she is prone to having hilarious and ridiculous things happen to her, most of which are not her fault.  Fortunately for me and you, I get to witness these mishaps and share them with the world.  This particular incident, however, was the product of Cara's occasional inability to be gauge the appropriateness of her actions and her general lack of self-awareness.

Cara's concentration in Law school is Child Law, which means she is planning on becoming an advocate for children in the courts after we graduate.  Yes, she's very noble and etc.  Every Christmas, the Child Law Fellows (as they are called) choose the name of one of the child clients of the Child Law Clinic and purchase a gift for that child.  Cara chose a 4-year old, whom we shall call Sarah.*  Cara went to Target and purchased the doll, pictured above, for Sarah.  I took this picture with my Blackberry, so the quality isn't great, but the doll is known as "Bath Time Baby" and is of the African-American race.  She brings the doll home, takes it out of the bag, and says to me, "Look! Isn't she cute?"  I agreed, then proceeded to question Cara about the race of the recipient child.  Blank stare.  Then she says, "I don't know, do you think that's a problem?"  I respond, "Probably not."  Cara gulps.

It gets better.  The doll came in a box with some bathtub toys and a little towel, and it's a pretty inoffensive little doll, so I think it'll probably be fine.  I turn the box around to see if there is anything written on the back.  I find this on the back of the box: 

Very calmly I turn the box back around so that 

 Cara can see the back and I say, "Did you even look at the back of the box?"  Again, I am met with a blank stare, for about a second, and then, "HOLY SHIT! There's KIDDIE PORN on my kid's present!"  Yes, Cara, you bought your Christmas kid kiddie porn.  ChildLaw Fellow OF THE YEAR.

Now I realize that America is progressive enough to make purchasing an African-American doll for a possibly Caucasian child not so much of a big deal.  I also realize that the picture on the box doesn't actually show any of the child's private areas.  But my roommate's anxiety over the race of the doll and the child, combined with her horror over the image of a naked child on the back of the box, was a sight to behold.  And she will now include a gift receipt with the doll when she delivers it to Sarah.

*Name has been changed.

cheap at first, expensive now

something interesting about this particular blog, stepping on gum, is how the topics you want to write about don't come naturally. the premise is for us to share hilarious, embarrassing, strange (you get the idea) stories about our lives. i wish i had started this blog 10 years ago, because bizarre and hilarious events occur on the regular in my life, yet they seem to come to a halt when i need to write about them. after we created this blog a few days ago, i assumed this pink page would stay blank and empty for quite sometime. then, it just came to me (the "ah ha" moment) in e-mail form. i can write about "why my parents hate me!" okay, fine they don't hate me, but from time to time i think i get on their nerves.

we use to have a continuous joke in my family about how "cheap" i was. see, i was adopted when i was just a few weeks old. my birth parents were interracial, and so are my adoptive parents (which i refer to as my real parents, because they are "as real as it can get", right mom?). well because we live in such a progressive country, in 1986 i was considered "special needs." true story. because i was a minority, i was considered special needs. on the negative side, that's socially/politically embarrassing. on the positive side, it's expensive to adopt children...but if they are special needs, you apparently are discounted. my parents and i have always been open about me being adopted. they use to call me their "blue light special." you know, that little blue light bulb that runs around and lets you know when sales are happening at kmart?

at any rate, i think that initial discounted price they received in the long run wasn't worth it. i have a million and a half stories about the frustrating things i have done regarding money and my parents. there was the $500 texting bill (this was before the unlimited texting offer existed, thank you very much) in high school, the constant wiring of money from indiana to spain in 2005, the repair of a wall  in our house that i kicked in while angry (probably middle school, that's excuse enough), the two cars i totaled in high school, or the $3,000 credit card i maxed out due to (only) overdraft protection charges my senior year in college.

well, now i am an adult (legally, not emotionally, of course). i have successfully graduated from college and work for a university doing research as a full time job. my parents probably assumed that they were finally off the hook for financially supporting me. wrong. instead of sitting me down at the kitchen table and sternly talking to me about why my cell phone texting bill was so outrageously high or how i managed to wreck two cars; instead of angry/disappointed phone calls about why my credit card statement is out of control, we have resulted to emails from my father, and they are getting less and less personal.

the first one i received yesterday...

Maryellen,

I have paid $154.91 in the past month for you to drive a zipcar.  I believe that is 8 trips.  Please explain why I’m paying for so many trips.

Dad

notice, my father used my first name instead of "precious" or "dedo" (names he has called me for years). hey at least it signed it dad!

this one i received a few moments ago...

Your 15 calls to 411 information cost me $22 this month.  Get a phone book please.  

notice this one lacks addressing me in any way, and it wasn't signed dad. get a phone book please? ouch!

at the end of the day, i know they still love me because i occasionally get emails like this... plus, who can turn away a kid as cute as this?

I still have your last retainer in my desk drawer.  Had one of your pacifiers in my toolbox until it melted into a glob :) 

guess their initial baby discount caught up with them :) the adoption agency must have known i was going to be expensive and felt bad, so gave my parents the discount! in all seriousness, i hope they know that at the end of the day, i plan on taking care of them as they get old and plan on financially supporting them. i just hope they don't wreck their cars, run up embarrassingly high phone bills, or physically damaging my future home in their old age.