valadilenne: (Whimsy: LOLPONG)
We're reading about insanity defenses in criminal law, and there is a concept known as the M'Naghten Rule.

But I keep seeing it as Ph'nglui mglw'nafh C'thulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn, which has some alarming implications.

Hahaha.

Apr. 7th, 2009 08:00 am
valadilenne: (Fancy: Horoscope clock)
Everything feels like betrayal this morning.

I wake up at 4:20am to stress over this argument--when I should be sleeping and not stressing over something I'm not getting a grade for. I'm popping the homeopathic anxiety pills again. I need to get a bigger bottle before finals start.
I've got "Toujours Gai," a song about having fun and enjoying life, stuck in my head while this is going on.
It's 26 degrees outside on April 7. Fuck that.
I'm being forced to swap my argument to the flip side and have no idea what I'm talking about.
I'm 24 years old and I feel like I'm about 30 sometimes.

Just another ordinary day in law school.
valadilenne: (Retro: Music note phonograph)


The best part has to be when Tjinder starts singing with the English children's chorus
Makin' the dope dope and the dope dope
And then they're
making the dope dope and the dope dope


The whole song is an anthem to something culturally cosmic and obscure and inherently cheerful, no matter how many brick walls will leave us for done for.

Handcream For a Generation is the only album where I have a strong love for each and every song, so much so that I have it on double set LP. It's from 2002.
valadilenne: (Movies: Madeline on the rocks)


I think this is my favorite scene in film basically ever.

If you've never seen The Third Man, it's about a man who visits Vienna thinking that his friend Harry Lime is dead. As you can see in this clip, not so much. The guy's alive and kicking and has been secretly following the main character everywhere.

When the light hits Orson Welles and he gives that "oh haha whoops the jig is up" smirk to Joseph Cotton, it makes me want to scream and tear my hair out over how gorgeous he looked back then. Even in 1949 Welles was an ass--he showed up to shooting 2 weeks late and the director had to do alternate shots with body doubles.

Still... I'd resurrect a young Orson Welles to see that expression in real life again.

P.S. Edit: I'm watching the 1944 version of Jane Eyre and I am in complete agreement with the uploader who says that "Mr. Rochester enters, gruffly played by an inexplicably sexy Orson Welles," except that I would change sexy to sexual. It's compounded by the fact that he stalks around the foggy moors wearing a giant cape that floats around him and shows off tight trousers. Yeah, it's full of cognitive dissonance.

I mean, even Joan Fontaine looks like she's about to either faint or is starting to maybe kinda think about having an orgasm in every scene she's in with him. That confused WTF IS GOING ON OH GOD look.
valadilenne: (Whimsy: LOLPONG)
Case of the week:

There was a farm adjacent to a manufacturing plant. One evening, one of the farm's cows got loose from its pen and wandered over to a shack next door and began to eat some of the things that were there--the items that the plant made. Her little nighttime snack over, the cow went back to the farm, digested the gunpowder she'd eaten, and promptly exploded.

The end.
valadilenne: (Psych: NAILED IT)
It didn't go as well as last time, but we weren't really expecting it to.

My partner got high marks for responding to the petitioners, which was nice.

I got complimented on being the only counsel to really "work the panel," as they call looking at each judge, which is very good.

I need to quit reading so much, though. They didn't like that very much. "Needs more bullet points," said Second Blonde Judge.

Hooray for me! I think I'll celebrate by avoiding my CrimLaw homework and going to the gym.
valadilenne: (Darkplace: Wait I have more things to sa)
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Because I always have more things to say, but usually I manage to get them all out in time.
valadilenne: (Alice: smoking caterpillar)
Why does it snow at home and then not here? Baffling.

Today I picked up the "Sea of Blue" cross-stitching project again, which is a very odd name for a picture of an overgrown path running through a forest of bluebells. I'm working on the path, so it's not very blue, but mostly a tarnished brass color at the moment.

It does feel good to get back into the rhythm of counting, making endless Xs and marking them off on the chart. It's so like paint by numbers, really, but I stay away from the American stuff. It's just not modern enough for me. Maybe I like a bit of irony in my pictures, but roosters on tea towels are too much and video games aren't really my scene right now (though I am thinking of getting a DSi [my DS touchscreen doesn't respond very well anymore], but I need to conserve $$ for Oxford).

I watched MST3k 618, "High School Big Shot," and the beginning short was weird but funny.

This weather has really got me down. I've been lolling in the freedom of Saturday, but I'm sort of lonely and I can't really leave the house even though I'm hungry. I want something from The Earth.
valadilenne: (Beaton: GLEE)
Maybe it was luck.

Maybe it was the fact that I practiced all afternoon getting left-field questions from my partner.

Or maybe it's because the other team was good but not great.

I just hit a motherfucking triple play at moot court.
valadilenne: (Nature: Soft sweet cherry blossom)
Sitting in my parents' backyard in 70 degree dry weather, no bugs to speak of yet except for the bees and hornets, and they're distracted by all the flowers.

It's settled. March is my favorite month. For all its schizophrenia, it produces California weather that you just don't get any other time of year. It's sunny, it's lovely, I sleep all the time, and life is just perfect this week.

I love you, March.
valadilenne: (Alice: tea party table)
I've stopped having wild and crazy dreams since coming to law school, and it's only now that I'm on break that they have rematerialized.

This morning I dreamed that I won a chance to be some kind of cast member at Disneyland (already this is completely impossible). I was dressed up, my hair was chopped off and put into a 1920s curl set, and I was to sit at a table of park guests who were having dinner in Orleans Square, I guess, and pretend to be a dead girl who used to live in the house and talk to everyone like I didn't realize I was dead. So it was kind of Southern Gothic Haunted Mansion or something.

And I had to fill out allllll this paperwork with a weird pen (you had to stick a dollar coin into the end of it and roll it along like an X-Acto knife to write). One of the papers that I found in the stack was a personality evaluation that the supervisor was going to fill out, and it had things like a sliding scale of whether or not I showed enough "childlike innocence" or if my betrayed too much "dark knowledge."

Oh, but then real cast members kept showing up dressed like they were going to have their weekly Quidditch practice right there at the park, and everyone acted like that was expected.

So that was weird. But that was after the dream I had where the people from NCIS and I went noodling (that is, covering our arms in pureed chum and waiting for a catfish to try to swallow us before wrestling them out of the water) and then we jacked the boat waaaaay up above the water and threw things at alligators down below.

I STILL HAVE AN IMAGINATION YOU GUYS
valadilenne: (Darkplace: Flippin' chicken)
Also, the weather needs to quit it with the schizophrenia.

I got my tea delivered last night--the chocolate orange truffle is more chocolate than anything else, which is weird because it's... water. It's very startling, but effective and tasty. Also I got the Orchid Oolong, which tastes like coconut, so you can't really tell that it's oolong. The leaves are fuller and better than just pekoe or ceylon, but it doesn't taste like orchid.

Things I need to do:

Civil Procedure reading
Criminal Law reading
Property reading
Property project
App Brief reading

The more I clean my room, the worse it gets, somehow. I don't know. Everyone is missing undergraduate around here; we're halfway through the semester and feeling burned out on the law. It's weird and hard to explain, but I have a feeling lawyers are always the parents who are like GEE I SURE WISH I COULD SLEEP IN ALL DAY AND NOT PAY BILLS OR HAVE TO READ FOR CLASS, but actually and sincerely mean it. Some of the people who went to undergraduate here were saying that half the time they'd skip class because the teacher would just post the lecture slides online.

Undergraduate wasn't all that great, but at least there were weeks when I could just tune out and exist somewhere else for a while and it wouldn't matter. I can't even doodle in my notes at law school because of the high guilt factor.

Everyone who is not in law school is lucky. LUCKY.

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