unbearable

Law School is absolutely unbearable. I am frightened to think about how many hundreds of dollars I am spending per hour of time, during which the only useful tool I have learned is to pretend to look at the professor each time he glances my way in an intelligent manner. I certainly hope this skill will come in handy during my lifetime. Of course, the professor is also getting paid "per piece" so to speak (pardon the reference, I recently got out of my Wage&Hour course in which we discussed the unfortunate faith of chinese sweatshop workers in New York's chinatown). Thus, he must take up the full time that the Registrar's office has allocated for him. Therefore, I can certainly understand why he feels the need to spend 15 minutes explainig the concept that instead of saying "mentally ill" I should have written "mentally ill persons" in my statutory drafting exercise. Although really, I don't even need the 30-second version of the explanation because the reason I made the error is not because I don't understand the underlying concept, but because I have not proof-read my work. So to sum up, all I needed to hear was "Please proof-read your work", but that would not have taken up the requisite amount of time.

Between my two classes today I went downtown to attempt to buy some pants in the Mavi store. First off, it's always a mistake for a horizontally-challenged individual to try on anything in flat shoes. But regardless, when I was trying one of the numerous pairs of jeans, this super sweet and ultra gay sales gentleman asked me how it was going. I replied that this particular pair of jeans were too tight. He said that they would stretch out. He then said: "May I just say your butt looks great in those jeans! For a caucasion girl, you've got booty!" I laughed politely, pretending that such banter about my "booty" is just typical occurance on an afternoon for me, and said "I know!" Which would be true. I do know that I got some booty. However, I am not quite sure I am prepared to be complimented on it (was it a compliment?) by salesladies (I mean gentlemen). I wound up not buying the jeans. Maybe if a straight salesman was complimenting my ass, I would reconsider. But with the adorable gay salesman - it's unclear whether it's his fashion sense speaking, or just desire to make a sale.

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Almost forgot. Here is the absolute funniest thing I have seen like.. EVER. There is also a New York Times article about this guy and his little Gates. Isn't it the cutest?