Wednesday, January 31, 2007


Professor: Why are you sitting all the way back there? I don't see your name back there on the seating chart.

Student: I have a laptop that is a POS and it needs to be plugged in all the time.

Professor: What's a POS laptop?

Student: It's a Piece of Shit.

Professor: I had to ask.

----- ----- -----

That was the only highlight of Contracts today. Then it was torture for the last twenty minutes of class due to the professor's mood swing of being pissed off that no one had their UCC.

The one day I decide not to lug the UCC to class is the one day that the Prof decides to read from it.

Monday, January 29, 2007

subject to a condition precedent

BF Quote of the Day: "If you are able to get a date with Brad Pitt, I'll marry you on the spot."

Fellow readers, you are my witness to this challenge from the Boy. Therefore, I write the following to Mr. Pitt:

----- ----- -----

Dear Mr. Brad Pitt,

Although it pains me to have to break my vow of falling out of love with you because you broke Jennifer Aniston's heart, I must make this plea for your assistance in the state of my future marital status. It appears that my boyfriend will "marry [me] on the spot" if I am able to succeed in procuring your presence for "a date." So, if you're ever in the Kansas City area and would like someone to give you a tour of the law school or The Plaza, consider it a date. I'll promise to make it short, and your of your child can also join us. My boyfriend did not say that our date had to be exclusive. And he didn't mention how long it had to be either, so an Appletini and an autographed photo will suffice as proof of our date.

I fear that you agreeing to a date is the only hope I have towards getting married with my boyfriend. It's either get a date with you to get the boyfriend to propose, or getting a new boyfriend. Perhaps getting a new boyfriend will be easier than getting a date with you. However, I will still persist because I have invested quite a bit of time into this relationship.

Have your people call my people.

Your former biggest fan, but will change it back to "your biggest fan" if it pleases you,


Saturday, January 27, 2007

my new favorite drink

Move aside Appletini, my new love is the So Cal Strawberry Lemonade. So sweet and yummy. The best part is that you can't taste the alcohol at all but you still get the same buzz, which is probably a dangerous thing if you think about it...

Anyhoo, here's the recipe if you want to try it out yourself:

So Cal Strawberry Lemonade

-- 1.5 oz Stoli Strasberi
-- 0.5 oz Strawberry Pucker
-- 1 large or 2 small strawberries, sliced
-- Fresh lemon juice (3/4 of a lemon)
-- Water to fill
-- 3/4 oz Simple Syrup

Muddle syrup, lemon juice and slices well. Shake and serve in a rough pint glass. Garnish with lemon wedge.

Stick in a straw, sip and drink. Repeat as needed.

is this how it's supposed to be?


So Cal Strawberry Lemonade and Key Lime West Martini

Peach Marmalade and an Apple Martini

Appletini, Kamanawanaleia, and a Konatini
That sure was a lot of drinking in one week. I think I'm done with that. They tell me you become an alcoholic during law school, but I can't do it. The drinking life is not for me. I don't think I can be one of those law students who has to get piss ass drunk every weekend to make the stress go away. Give me food and chocolate, that will make the stress go away any day.
Lots of yummy sushi from Kona Grill.
And a giant brownie fudge sundae for a happy ending (by "giant" I mean it was literally 3 inches by 3 inches and probably a good 1 1/2 inch high).
Goodness gracious, I really need to go on a diet now.

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

We're not in San Francisco anymore, Toto

You know you're not in San Francisco anymore when your Contracts professor mistakes you for the only other female Asian in the class. Don't know why I'm even bothering distinguishing any region of Asia since we all apparantly look the same anyway. He probably thinks we're both Chinese, too, which neither of us are.

I think I need to start shouting "I'm not Chinese!" again, like I used to do when I was a kid.

Saturday, January 20, 2007


That's a new word I'm going to start using until I get sick of it.

I went out with a couple of friends to celebrate a birthday and the non-birthday girl came up with the name of the outing: Fantabulous Birthday Celebration. And then that word has been stuck in my head ever since.

Anyhoo, we went to Happy Hour at George Brett's Restaurant. Do you know who George Brett is? Don't worry, I didn't either. George Brett was a player on the Kansas City Royals baseball team, and after a little searching, he's in the Hall of Fame too.

Here's a picture of the yummy mini-burgers and fries we ordered. The burger was about the size of a half dollar and the bun was about twice that size, so basically you're eating bread with meat on the side. The fries were yummy too. (That's not my hand.)

Here I am, stuffing my mouth with a mini-burger. Food in my mouth, what else is new?

This is the birthday dessert we got (and the waitress gave it to us for free!). It's supposed to be a "Half a Banana Split Sundae."

Doesn't this look like a full size sundae to you? Three full scoops of ice-cream, with toppings, and literally just half of a banana (so there's really no split in it). I was envisioning a half size version of a banana split, with smaller scoops of ice cream and half of a banana (cut in half vertically) that was split down the middle and placed on either side. But no, we got a full size sundae with "half a banana." Now, you gotta wonder what they do with the other half of the banana. Do they actually save it for another order? Wouldn't it turn brown? Or is it a snack for the chef? He needs his potassium too.

Who cares what happens to the other half of the banana. This half disappeared just the same. Good ending to a good meal.

And now I must go punish myself at the gym before doing any actual school work.

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

ice, ice, go away

I ventured out this morning to go to the post office (and to turn in the paper b/c the professor said it was still due at 9 a.m. but "don't risk your safety" of getting it in) and after taking just two steps, I slipped and fell, landing really hard on both my knees. Both knees are scraped, one is bleeding a little and a giant bruise is already forming. And I was extra careful to avoid the ice that was visible. I was not, however, aware of the "invisible ice," the kind results from melting snow/ice and making such a thin layer of ice that you can't see it's there.

This incident brought back memories of the snowy days during highschool. It was the first day of snow during my sophmore year in highschool, and we were all lining up to get on the bus to go home. As my friend and I were walking towards our bus, I noticed her flailing her arms as if she was slipping on the slush. In an attempt to brace her fall, I stepped forward and lost my footing on the slush also. My friend was able to compose herself and keep on walking. I, on the other hand, fell down face forward screaming "AHHHHHH!!!!" My friend turns around and starts laughing at me until she realizes that there are tears coming down my face. She keeps pulling me up and I keep telling her that I heard something go "POP" in my knee and my leg is bent at a very weird angle. Other people start trying to pull me up from the ground, telling me to "walk it off" and ignoring my cries that I think I broke my leg. And apparantly, I am quite a bitch when I'm in pain because people said I was cursing like a sailor and just kept yelling at everyone to stop pulling me up.

Eventually, the vice principal and a couple of other teachers came and asked what happened. Two of the male teachers picked me up and as soon as they did, I heard my knee pop again and told them the pain was less now. They called my dad and the ambulance and I spent the day in the emergency room waiting for x-rays to come back. Luckily, I didn't break a bone, but the impact of the fall tore all the tendons holding my kneecap in place and I had to wear a brace for two months to let that heal. Limping around for two months is not fun. Being called "gimp" for two months is not fun. Walking up three flights of stairs in a brace is not fun. Learning how to walk normally again is not fun.

Eck, don't want to think about that anymore.

So until this ice melts away, I am never going outside again. The last thing I need is to walk with crutches for the rest of the semester.

Another snow day

Classes are canceled for the day again! So I'm assuming that I also do not have to walk over and turn in my writing assignment, which is due at 9a.m.

I looked outside my window and I see the plow trucks cleaning the roads. I also don't see massive piles of snow either. So I really don't understand why classes were canceled today. Perhaps the below freezing temperature is the reason?

All I know is that I need to get out of my apartment because I've been holed up since Friday. There's only so much TV I can watch. I don't want to feel so trapped!!

Well, I'm gonna leave the warmth of my bed and attempt to make it through the coldness of the living room to get some breakfast.

Saturday, January 13, 2007

Question of the Day

I go to bed at the same time every single night. So, why is it that I have to force myself to wake up at 7:30am every weekday morning so that I can go to class, but then when I want to sleep in Saturdays, my eyes automatically pop open at 7am? I don't get it. Is my brain telling me that it would rather watch Saturday morning cartoons rather than go watch videos about constitutional law?

Friday, January 12, 2007

snow day

Yesterday, I heard rumors that it was going to ice and snow all weekend, starting at 3am this morning.

I woke up today, I checked my email to see if they canceled classes. As of 7:45am, classes were still in session. So, I got ready and walked over to school for my 9am Contracts class (what a waste of time that was) and then walked back home after class because I had a two hour break and I needed to eat.

It was lightly raining small pellets of ice during my walk home, but I didn't think anything of it. I got home, printed out internship applications, resumes, ate lunch, and then walked back to school for the mandatory OCI meeting at noon. During my walk back to school, however, it was raining a little harder, and the ice pellets were a little larger. And I was beginning to slip a little as I took each step. But, I made it to school.

Guess what happens next? Someone runs through the hallway announcing that classes were canceled for the rest of the day. And the mandatory OCI meeting was canceled too. So, I basically walked back to school for nothing. I guess everyone is afraid of ice around here.

As of right now, it's still raining ice. And it's supposed to rain ice tomorrow. And then sometime this weekend, the ice is supposed to turn into snow. Whoop de doo. I hate the cold.

With classes canceled today, you'd think I would take advantage of the extra time to do school work. Yeah--I've been surfing the web for snowboots for the last three hours. At least I'm productive at doing something. I could be sleeping under my thick, warm blankets right now. That sounds like a good idea...maybe I will take that nap right now.

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

I hate the gym.

But you all probably already know that.

After three weeks of gorging on food (winter break in San Francisco consisted mostly of eating at all of my favorite Asian restaurants because I will never be able to eat that kind of good food in Kansas City), and a week of being lazy once my vacation was over, I decided today was the day that I will jump back on the exercise wagon.

I now regret my decision. My thighs are hurting. My arms are hurting. My back is hurting. My fingers are hurting. And all I did was a 30 minutes run on the treadmill (but mind you, I ran 2.75 miles so WHOO HOO for that accomplishment!). I don't know why my fingers are hurting, but I figure that my body is in shock for putting it through such a rigorous workout after almost a month of not doing anything at all. I fear the pain my body will be in tomorrow.

And today's workout may seem a bit useless since I am going to eat pizza in about an hour and half. Why would I do that, you ask? Because it's for class??? Alright, watching The Money Pit and eating pizza is not a requirement for class, but if your property professor is hosting it and says it will be a fun learning experience, why not? And supposedly, we're suppose to learn something about property, so it's good enough reason for me. That and the pizza.

And for those of you who wants to procrastinate, I suggest you play this game: Who Wants to Marry a Founding Father? Kept me from reading my con law for about half an hour...

Sunday, January 07, 2007

Summer Jobs - a story

Jack died and went to heaven. At heaven's gate, the Lord said to him, "Jack, I want to give you an opportunity to let you choose whether you want to spend the rest of eternity in Hell or in Heaven. I'm going to let you go down to Hell, try it out for a bit and then let you decide which you like better. How does that sound to you?"

Jack is surprised at God's offer but wanted reassurance that there was no gimmicks involved. "Are you serious, God? There's no gimmicks involved, is there?"

God replies, "Absolutely none. I don't want to pressure you, so you can spend as long as you want in hell, and then give me an answer when you're ready."

Jack agrees and immediately he is transported down to Hell. What he saw was not what he expected.

There were beautiful supermodels running around in their bikinis, playing volleyball on the beach and drinking Maitais for as far as Jack could see. There were men drinking along with the bikini clad supermodels, eating lobster in one hand with a beer in the other. There were people driving Ferraris down the street and others playing golf. And best of all, the temperature was a warm seventy five degrees.

A bit dazed and confused, Jack thought to himself, "Is this really Hell? How come it's so nice and warm? How come no one is being whipped with a stick to throw rocks into the lava? This can't be Hell!"

Then a big busted blonde walked up to Jack and asked, "Wanna come play volleyball with me?"

Jack quickly nodded his assent and followed the blonde, immediately forgetting his earlier state of confusion.

And so Jack spent a few weeks down in Hell, enjoying his Maitais and bikini clad co-habitants. Jack decided that it was about time to go back to Heaven's Gate and tell the Lord what he wanted to do for all eternity.

At Heaven's Gate, the Lord asked Jack, "So, Jack, have you decided what you wanted to do for all eternity?"

Jack replied, "Well, God, Heaven is great and all, but after seeing what Hell is really all about, I mean no offense to you but I think I want to go to Hell."

God nodded and asked again, "Are you sure, Jack?"

Jack immediately nodded yes and was transported back into Hell. Only this time, there was no bikini clad supermodels running around in their bikinis. There was no one playing golf, surfing, playing volleyball, or driving Ferraris. All that Jack could see were people with chains on their hands and feet, dragging large sized rocks and dropping it into a firey quarry below. There was a giant red man holding a pitchfork and whipping people with this large black whip. The giant red man saw Jack just standing there and immediately whipped him into work in the scorching hot temperature.

After a few weeks of carrying rocks to the quarry, Jack, still dazed and confused, went up and asked his supervisor, "Hey man, I don't get it. When I went to visit Hell a few weeks ago, it all all nice and warm, with pretty people running around and we were playing volleyball everyday. Where is that Hell?"

The supervisor responded, "Oh, that was our Summer Associates Program."

Friday, January 05, 2007

surprise of the day

This is the second day of the semester and my first class of the day was my 9 a.m. Contracts class.

As usual, I walked out of my apartment at 8:45 a.m. and meandered my way across the two blocks to get to school. I got to class, decided not to sit in the assigned seat from last semester, took out my laptop and book and was ready to begin an exhilarating discussion of the Parole Evidence Rule. The clock said 8:55 a.m. and I noticed there was only five people sitting in class.

I thought it was odd that the majority of the class was not IN CLASS five minutes before class starts. It's normal that the professor usually arrives five minutes late (and then keeps us five minutes after) but still, shouldn't people be sitting in class and shooting the shit right now?

And then it happened. The email that canceled class for today. The email that the professor sent at 2 a.m. in this morning. TWO A.M.? Do "business hours" not apply to professors? AND he's not even showing up for Monday's class, but sending a sub instead. I just know that he's going to give us about twenty minutes notice for when he wants to have a make-up class. What a great start to the semester.

Lesson of the day: Check your email BEFORE leaving home. Just in case someone decides to cancel class while you were sleeping.

Highlight of yesterday: Finding $15 in the pocket of a gym bag that hasn't been used since leaving San Francisco in August. Whoo hoo! I'm rich! Bring on the chocolate cake!

Monday, January 01, 2007

watch what you say

I spent the last weekend of my vacation helping the Boy move his things from his house to a storage locker in the middle of no where, USA. We had to get a U-Haul truck to move his bed, so we went to this tiny place off the highway and waited a zillion hours for a truck, but we almost didn't get a truck at all due to the Boy's frequency to mouth off. See below:

U-Haul guy: Well, I can rent you a 10 footer but you will have to return it to the U-Haul center in North Highland. Is that okay?

BF: Sure, no problem. Wait, it's the same price if I return it there?

U-Haul guy: Yes, it'll be the same price. They just need the truck to be returned to that location.

BF: Okay, no problem. Sign me up.

Me: Honey, where's North Highland?

BF: It's the ghetto area. It's the hood.

Me: Oh.

U-Haul guy: Hey, just stop right there. North Highlands is not the ghetto.

BF: Oh, yes it is.

U-Haul guy: I live there.

BF: Ohhhh......shit.

U-Haul guy: And if you want that truck, you better take those words back.

BF: I'm so sorry. Did I say "ghetto"? I've been living in [the expensive rich area] for so long that I forget that North Highland is just as good as [the expensive rich area]. Please give me a truck.

U-Haul guy: Okay now. You remember that North Highlands is not the ghetto or the hood.

BF: Yes, sir.

Me talking to the Boy after we got into the U-Haul truck: You and your mouth. One day, you're going to get us both beaten up.

And so we drove from the Boy's house through "the ghetto" to get to his storage locker. I'm not so sure it's "the hood" since there's this giant moo cow on top of a gas station advertising fresh milk. I'm thinking that we're in redneck county. And I swear the guy who rented the storage locker to the Boy was Larry the Cable Guy himself.