Ill (or at least feeling guilty) over ILL

Normally, I hate to Interlibrary Loan (ILL). It's nothing against the books themselves... they're lovely. I just feel so guilty making the non-profit library spend several dollars of their limited budget on getting a book sent just for me, instead of being able to put that money towards buying new books that lots of people, including myself, could read.

This summer, however, I've had to ILL quite a few books for the professor I'm working for, and I started to feel more comfortable with it. When I discovered a book that I needed for the research I'm doing for him, and found out on WorldCat that there were a dozen libraries in the country that had a copy (as opposed to the book that was only owned by a single library in the Netherlands) I went ahead and ordered it. "I pay tens of thousands of dollars in tuition," I thought to myself in self-justification. "Surely they can spare to spend $2.50 on shipping for a book that's likely to be a goldmine for my research project."

The day after I put in the ILL request for the book, I got an email from the school library saying that none of the other libraries in WorldCat actually had circulating copies. I was somewhat dissapointed, but figured there was nothing I could do about it, and decided to proceed with the project without it. Today, however, as I was running another search through the card catalog, I found out that this library owns the book I requested.

Feeling somewhat dumb and wondering why the librarian hadn't said anything, I went ahead and clicked on it... only to discover that it is still in processing, after having arrived yesterday. So forget about feeling bad about having the library spend three dollars on shipping for a book... I now have a major guilt complex for inspiring the acquisition of a new book, which had to have cost at least 30 pounds (I checked), plus a ridiculous shipping charge from Europe. The worst part is, the book's a 500 page volume, in French, on a narrow topic of European constitutional adjudication, so it's not like anyone besides me is ever going to read it. *sigh*

Ye Olden Days Lacketh Convenience

Ordinarily, I'm a big fan of all things medieval.  

In fact, I even got up the courage the other day to visit the medieval collections at the library here at Notre Dame - an entire floor of non-circulating books, many of them very old and most of them in Latin.  Unfortunately I couldn't stay long - I was worried that one of the Medieval Studies doctoral students studying there would suddenly yell something like "Hey, you can't be here... you're just a law student."  Plus, more rationally, I neeeded to hurry back to the law school so I could actually get some work done that day.  But I intend to go back, scary Ph.D. candidates and all.  It was too wonderful to stay away from long.

But this post isn't about the impressive medieval collection here, or my love for crumbling Latin texts written a thousand years ago.  It's about the medieval period I'm going through in my own life, and how much I dislike it.  Turns out, I couldn't have been happy in the Dark Ages.  Or even the 1980s (although, if you ask me, the decade of big hair and Prince was the real dark age).

Last weekend, one of our neighbors moved out of our apartment building.  Normally, we probably wouldn't have noticed, but this particular neighbor happened to be the only person around with un-password protected wireless internet.  We'd been mooching internet off him all year, and now it's gone.  Mike and I decided not to sign up for our own account at this point, because we are moving at the end of next month (to a "real" apartment, with a separate bedroom and living room and a kitchen that will have more than 18 inches of counterspace, even after we move the microwave in - so exciting!).

So now, anytime we want to look up a recipe for dinner, or check to see where a Facebook event is happening, or need to look through recent decisions by the Supreme Court of India (my task for work, of late) we have to pack up our computers and either walk 3 1/2 blocks to the grocery store, or make the 20 minute walk to the law school building (despite the added distance, the law school building is usually the more attractive option - it's quieter, and has sofas).  

I know I shouldn't be complaining, especially because we conveniently had free internet for the entire school year.  But still... I miss the twentyfirst century!!

*thump**thump**thump*

As I type this (and for the past several hours), a herd of elephants is parading about above me.  Ok, so maybe they might actually be roofers with nail guns, but the unpleasant effect on my sanity is the same.

In the good news, I'm not dead - just lazy.  I'm enjoying my new job, but working full time has left me with considerably less free time than I was envisioning for this summer.  Plus, the monstrous law review packet (which finally arrived) may not have taken up all my spare time, but it has done a pretty good job of ruining those free minutes with gnawing sensations of guilt.

I did finally see Benjamin Button.  I don't know why I'm so drawn to stories and movies that explore the brevity of life and the tragedy of mortality - I always end up in tears almost from the start.  It was pretty good, though.

And I just finished reading The Prophecy of the Stones.  Maybe it doesn't quite count for my literary accomplishment for the summer, but it was really good - and written by a 13 year old, to boot.  It makes me so old to realize that I'll never be a teenage author... or an Olympic gymnast... or tall.  That's probably the best part about being a kid - your life has infinite possibilities, and there doesn't seem to be any reason that you can't grow up to do and see and be everything you want.

Well, I need to go figure out what we're having for dinner.  I'm really in the mood for some cake, but it's much too hot in here to turn the oven on.  I might have to settle for some ice cream (we just bought a tub yesterday, so it should hopefully still be icicle-free, despite our evil freezer).

Summer!

After 2 semesters as a lowly first year student, I'm now officially a 2L.  Unfortunately, unlike levelling up in a video game, this hasn't appeared to give me any special powers or even made me aware of any previously-locked secret areas.  I guess that must not happen until you become a 3L...

My exams went alright(ish).  As mentioned earlier, I forgot about the First Amendment during my Con Law exam.  My Torts exam was so severely word limited that I couldn't really explore any nuances.  The exam I'm most worried about, though, is Property - I started getting a migraine half an hour before the exam, and even though I loaded up on Excedrin when I realized what was happening, I know the first third of the test was consequentially a probable disaster.  But enough about that... there's no point in obsessing now, considering that I won't get my grades for at least 3 weeks (some rumors have even suggested that they won't be in until late June!  I don't think my sanity is that patient). 

Almost as predictable as my impatience for my grades, the end of the semester has also filled me with grandiose plans for this summer:

1. Do the law review write on (of course, this goal might be a little bit easier to accomplish if they actually gave us the packets with our topic assignments - we were expecting them 62 hours ago).

2. Assuming I make law review, start working on research for a note topic

3. Travel (visit Utah, Chicago, Michigan City, the Amish, Canada, and hopefully D.C.)

4. On campus interviews

5.  Try to get a jump-start on coursework for semester

6. Move to a bigger apartment (meaning one that actually has a bedroom).  Furnish/decorate it adorably.  And keep it clean.

7. Write another novel.  Maybe actually let someone besides my mom read it this time.

8. Find a recipe for brownies from scratch that I like as much as the box kind (a surprisingly difficult struggle, to be honest... I've already been working on this one for several months)

9. Read something literary.  I'm not sure what yet... any suggestions?

10.  Watch all my DVDs with the French dubbing on, in a probably-too-late attempt to remember the language.

11.  Start hitting the gym again.  Law school killed all those good exercise habits I built up in grad school.

12.  Actually use the pool at our apartment complex, at least once

13.  Get caught up on movies and TV shows.  Especially want to see Benjamin Button.

14.  Write letters.  And actually mail them.

15.  Take pictures of me and Mike doing all these fun things.  Maybe even blog about it.

And, of course, (16.) work.  This summer is going to be epic.

Random Ramblings of an Exam-Fried Mind

I may be in the midst of the most grueling finals week of my life, but, hey, at least one week from today I'll be free!*

Although, truth be told, as demoralizing as exams are, there's a little part of me that kind of likes the insanity.  If only that little part of me would have chimed in to remind myself about the existence of the First Amendment during my Con Law exam this afternoon...

I had the first Gyro of my life today, and thought it was delicious.  Plus, an excellent excuse to get bakalava... mmmmmmhmmm! 

*Working on a twenty or thirty page paper and an exam on citation forms for the law review competition.

The Good, The Bad, and the... Cute

Last night I made some of these.  Very good!

Last night our nextdoor neighbor and his girlfriend broke up.  At two in the morning.  Very loudly.  Right outside our window.  Very bad...

Last night, I discovered this when I was supposed to be working on my Con Law outline.  Very cute.  (And an even worse procrastination technique than baking goodies or blogging.)

So that's what leg warmers are for...

I spent most of last week looking forward to Friday.  Not because it signaled the beginning of the weekend (with less than two weeks until finals, there's no such thing as a weekend in law school) but because the weathermen had promised a beautiful sunshiney day with temperatures in the low 70s.  I love the winter, but the thought of not having to put up with clouds and freezing winds for at least one day this April was very tantalizing.

Friday morning I pulled out my capris, which had been banished to the top shelf of the closet since September, and put a t-shirt.  At the last minute, as I headed out the door, I threw on a hoodie too.  After all, it was only 7:30 in the morning and the sun had only been up for about ten minutes... it probably wasn't perfect weather yet.

5 minutes late, as usual, I ran out of the house and began walking briskly to school.  By the time I got to the parking lot, I could tell that something was amiss.  My toes, who had been so happy about the return of the flip-flops, were beginning to protest.  

"It can't be that cold," I mentally told them.  "Suck it up."  

They didn't stop tingling, though, and as I continued walking my legs and hands and ears joined in.  Puzzled that my extremities were so bothered by what I assumed was 50 degree weather, I started to look around at my surroundings.  Someone defrosting their car window.  Crunchy, ice covered grass.  My own breath, escaping from my mouth in puffs that reminded me of the pictures of nineteenth century trains in my property casebook.  

I passed three people on my way to school.  Every single one of them was wearing gloves.  All three of them had coats.  Two of them were wearing beanies.  Smart, sensible people who actually checked the weather before dashing outside in beach wear.

"So this is how natural selection thins the gene pool,"I thought dismally.

After what seemed like a very long 25 minutes, I finally made it into the warmth of the law school building.  As my feet began to thaw enough to resume their tingling protests, I looked around at my fellow classmates and was confronted by a sea of bare feet, legs, and arms.  The girl to my right was wearing a mini skirt and flats, the boy on my left had on flipflops and shorts.  This made me feel much better about my own judgment.  Of course, it also could have prompted me to worry about the future of a legal profession in the hands of people who weren't even capable of dressing themselves appropriately for the weather... but I'm pretending that it really wasn't a matter of inferior judgment, but a signal of superior foresight.  After all, it may have been a miserable 28 degree trek to school, but when my fellow classmates and I headed home that afternoon, it was a glorious 69 degrees -- warm enough that my toes began to forgive me.