inpromissum

Public Service Announcement

Don't Drink and Drive!

No, really. If there is any question about your blood alcohol level or your motor skills, don't do it. Not because you're a danger to others, which you probably are, but also because you will get your ass thrown in jail or AA. I don't mean to be flip about the dangers of drunk driving to the general community, but you can be arrested and CONVICTED of DUII even if you're below .08. And, btw, .08 is not the "limit" - .079 is the limit. But like I said, the limit doesn't much matter because if the officer can prove in court that you failed the field sobriety test or were unfit in some other way, your ass is toast.

After arraigning dozens, if not over 100, DUII cases in the past few weeks I have learned a few things. First, the police know what to write down - bloodshot/watery eyes, slurred speech, jerky movements (or slow movements!), odor of alcoholic beverage. They have several versions of the field sobriety test and they rate you and each element. If you can't touch your nose on the first try, don't drive. If you can't walk 10 steps toe to toe without stepping out of line, don't drive. If you're talking funny, don't drive. If you're an animated drunk and you've become animated, don't drive.

If you opt for "diversion" you can have the charge dismissed or discharged at the end of a year of twice-weekly AA meetings (might not be a year, maybe only 6 months). If you fail diversion you are sentenced instantly because to get into the program you have to plead guilty. If you opt for trial you may very well get jail time or a $6000 fine.

This is of course the wrong audience for this message - I should be blogging at law students an undergrads, but I thought I should get the word out. A DUII is not hard to get and it's WAY worse than a piddly little speeding ticket. Cab fare is infinitely worth it.

To Puff

Dear, Sweet Puff,

I feel like this must be a nightmare. Something I will assuredly wake up from. But it's not. You're gone. My sweet, sweet baby is gone. From the momen I met you I knew you had to be mine, and everything you did after that affirmed it. Standing in the food dish, country dinner on all four paws; scaling my entire body because you wanted to be held; sitting in my lap every single night - never meeting a lap you didn't like or discovering an independent streak; laying accross my neck purring while I tried to fall asleep - my own personal tuxedo stole. You were truly one of a kind. Maybe because you were always a little weak, but really, I think that was just who you were. A momma's boy. It's so wrong here without you. I think Mitts knows because she isn't purring. I know I did right by you in your life, but I hope I did right by you in your death. It happened so fast, I never even got to hold you right at the end. And then I felt like I had killed you. PLease tell me that was right, Puff. I think you said you wanted to go, but I didn't want to let you. I want you back so badly. I can't imagine anything worse than what I"m feeling right now. Mitts takes too much encouragement to get in my lap, and she's a little ADD. Bailey is too fat. You were my lap baby. And you were so young. I know I was never told life would be fair, but this seems profoundly unfair. You were just a baby. My baby. God, it must be time to wake up. Someone wake me up! I can't believe this had to happen to you. Did it have to be you? I had such a terrible feeling about your surgery a few weeks ago - but you came back alive. Sickish, but alive. But that encourage this? Please tell me this would have happened anyway, so I know that I couldn't have helped it. You'd lost your appetite before then - you were tiny. I told the vet but he didn't listen. But what could he have done against an uncurable, fatal disease? Puff, when I saw you after you passed, I was so horrified. So much more than I've ever been before. What if there is no afterlife and I never see you again? Why didn't I sit with your for another hour? I knew you were uncomfortable. I hope you really were. You'd stopped purring, and you'd always been a purr machine. This is a bad dream, right? I really, truly had hope for a mintue when that occurred to me - it's totally horrible like a bad dream, something so awful that it can't possibly be true. Just please tell me I did right by you. I took your white eyebrow whiskar, but I don't think you minded. When I get you back on Monday with clay pawprints I'm sure I'll lose it for the rest of the day. God. This can't be right Puff, it can't. Puff, the name you were given because you were sick the minute I got you. I would have stuck with you through anything you know. I hope you know that. I hope you know how much I truly loved you. Your sister is in my lap with hiccups. She misses you too. Big sister Bailey will miss you too - you were her baby as well; the kitten that liked to be cleaned but didn't attack. Why you, Puff? Why my Puffy? I say everything happens for a reason, but I don't see the point in this. I hope you're at peace and waiting for me somewhere.

I will love you and miss you forever.

Your mommy

I object

The reading to be done before the first day of a TWO credit seminar:

Some case from the 1890's (6 pages)
Cruzan v. Director, Missouri Dept. of Health (47 pages)
Planned Parenthood v. Casey (81 pages)
Two Chapters from "Life's Dominion" (64 pages)

203 pages? Are you kidding?

Virtues of Height

This is vaguely amusing. At least to me. At least, enough so to be worth breaking my close-to-infinitely-long posting drought.

I'm flying back down to Stanford for a recruiting trip later this month, and while I was booking my flight, I automatically went to see if I could book on United, since I could sit in Economy Plus and make my legs a lot happier.

Alaska turns out to be cheaper by just enough to make the United flight just outside of our policy (we've got some flexibility in the flights that we choose, but price is a factor), so I write the travel people asking if there's any way I can just pay the rest of the difference myself since the extra leg room is worth it to me.

They end up replying that it's fine for me to just go ahead and book it and I don't need to worry about the extra cost. Rationale: "I have heard you are very tall."

OK, maybe not that funny. But getting that mail made me laugh, at least.

--Nick

Oh, the lament

I would be a better crammer if I could LAY OFF the formatting. Oh my god. I integrated a bunch of my friend's notes into my employment outline and I could NOT stop fixing the formatting and spelling and putting short lines together in paragraph format. It's ridiculous. And for some reason my typing speed has gotten out of control buy my accuracy sucks, but I can't just leave the misspellings. They have a squiggly red line for god's sake! And even if they didn't, they'd bother me. *sigh* Okay, back to Land Use Planning. Last one before I get a big, fat, tasty drink and sleep in till noon (and Christmas shop).

Oh yeah: My notes were 30-something pages (I tend to only keep track of black letter law and holdings) and hers were 82, so futzing with *that* much formatting really is time consuming (read: stupid).

And Amber, take fewer notes. God will love you just as much and I will love you more.

Mouse Wars

I have two roommates and I think one of them stole my mouse. It is/was a nice mouse that Nick bought for me. I thought I couldn't find it until I found it at his laptop . . . so I took it. And then I left for a few hours and came home to find that it was back at his laptop. WTF? Is he really stealing my mouse or do we have the same one and I'm stealing his?

Like it's not enough that I'm paying half his fucking late fee because he didn't get his mail in a timely fashion . . . who doesn't check and pay their damn bills online? He's a web designer for god's sake. One who steals mice.

Grr.

Woot!

About damn time there was some oversight on an abysmal, irresponsible administration.

Japan stories still to come.

--Nick

Nick's Japan Trip

*Here's where he's going to tell you all about it*

From My Lewis and Clark E-mail Account

Hello:

The Gastronomy Club*, Lewis & Clark Law School's most prestigious, most
noteworthy, most illustrious, and most newly recognized social networking
student group invites you to a very brief yet emotionally poignant
introductory meeting full of information you will surely want to be aware of
for your own edification** now and in the future.

This meeting will take place in Classroom Three*** at 5:30 PM**** and
feature CUPCAKES***** from Portland's own Saint Cupcake
(www.saintcupcake.com)******. Please come find out about our ideas for the
school year and about how you can participate*******.

Thank you,

Eric Meltzer, President
Anna Jeno, Treasurer

*The Gastronomy Club seeks develop a strong social network based on the
appreciation of local Northwest food and drink; to provide information about
current legal issues and opportunities involving food law; to promote new
relationships between law students and the Northwest's legal and gastronomic
communities.
*"enlightenment" would also be an acceptable synonym here.
***Classroom Three was chosen because it is easily the greatest of all of
the Prime Numbered Classrooms, a select group which consists of Classroom
2, Classroom 3, Classroom 5, Classroom 7, and Classroom
4494179990554414939947092970931085130153737870495584992054923478717299275731
1826281150838665599829907456697437371147256065502628866809429169935784346436
3003144674940345912431129144354948751003607115263071543163 (which is very
hard to find and hosts only difficult classes on esoteric subjects).
****The Gastronomy Club LOVES evening students!
*****Absolutely no terrible, robot-made pizza with out of state factory farm
ingredients will ever be provided by The Gastronomy Club.
******The mystical powers of Saint Cupcake cannot be denied. Also, Saint
Cupcake would be an excellent name for a kitten.
*******Or not participate but simply come hang out and enjoy a cupcake.

Self-Effacement

I am so, so sick of it. It's apparently the cool thing to do in law school and I swear I'm going to punch the next A student who tells me they're not very smart, or the next freak with an 80-page outline who tells me that either a) they hardly studied at all, or b) they're going to (or did) horribly. You are all liars and you need to stop. We're here because we're smart. We're different levels of overachievers, and that's it. We all understand the curve - no one is going to kow tow because you got an A+ or think you're undeserving of oxygen because you got a C-. And really, since people don't talk very openly about their grades, there is no reason to set everyone up for that illustrious and arbitrary mark. So Just. Stop.