Question for Blogger Bloggers

I seem to be plagued by spam comments, is there anyway I can delete them, or make it more difficult for spammers to post comments without having to make commenters "sign in" before they post?

Ode to Big Nick's

Where were you last night Big Nick's? Weaving my way home after a long day and night out all I wanted was a greasy, savory, HUGE slice of your pizza, smothered in parmesan cheese out of the glass shaker, with a few red peppers for good measure. My mind did multiple radar sweeps of the area, but woefully there is nary a 24 hour joint around down here in DC. Alas, I had to settle for a woefully under-satisfying microwaved burrito in your place. Oh I miss you Big Nick's.

Click Clomp, Click Clack

I have always loved shoes, and most of all the sound that some shoes make. As a little girl there was nothing better than walking down a long corridor in patent leather mary janes, making the halls reverberate with a diminutive version of the staccato clacking of a woman in pumps.

That sound, the click of the heel and the clomp of the ball of the foot, signals fresh, energetic, feminine, productive, and down to business. The lighter the click, the more brisk and fun, the heavier the clomp, the more frumpy.

When I wear shoes that click and clomp I take on the persona of their sound. This weekend I bought a pair of flats with a miniscule kitten heel. Their comfy as can be, and they have the perfect aural quality. On the way to school this morning the business like rhythm of my own feet helped me forget how tired I've felt all week and energized me for the day ahead, which I anticipate will be full not only of clicking and clomping, but also lots of productive clicking and clacking on my computer.

Check, Check Plus, Check Minus

It's ridiculous, not since first grade has a check plus excited me so. There is only one class this semester, "Legal Research and Writing", in which a single test does not determine my entire grade. I've never been one to worry much about mid-terms or exams. I participate, I do well on papers throughout the semester, and then review in a reasonable manner come test-time. But here, there is a dull throb of anxiety stemming from the knowledge that regardless of whether I ace an answer in class, the amorphous, long, intimidating and all-determining three hour exam looms in December.

In light of this, the weekly assignments in my Legal Research and Writing class have taken on disproportionate meaning. Other than two final legal memos we turn in, we are given checks, check pluses, or check minuses on these weekly assignments. These signals are the only feedback I will receive in any course during the semester.

The giddy thrill I get from seeing that plus on my assignment is only tempered by my frustration at the lack of comments on the subsequent pages. I know that I've erred in my explanation, I know that my application is full of mistakes, and yet the professor has provided nothing. Not a single word.

And so I'm left with a meaningless check plus. An infinitely weak level of feedback and as such, an infinitely weak defense for the psyche against the shadow of exams.

Study With Friends

Maybe it's the only-child thing, or maybe it's the nature of the subjects I've studied but I've never been one for study groups. However, as of this morning I am officially part of a 1L study group. There are four of us, which is a great number as far as I'm concerned. We met, we've got a plan for what we want to accomplish, for how we're going to tackle information, and I've never been so excited to review the requirements of a good pleading.

That said, I think I may be the weak link in the group. We've got someone who has two years of working at the DOJ under his belt, someone else who has been through business school, and another woman who is just damn smart. That puts me...well, I'll be the one asking the questions and bringing the cookies!

Swollen Glands

It's so predictable. Throw in some pre-event stress, mix with transition, add a dash of public restroom, incubate for three weeks and presto! I've got a sore throat and the beginnings of a stuffy nose. Just about every Christmas vacation from high school through college, I would fight a cold for the first two or three days. My body does a great job of navigating up the mountain to the pinnacle of stress, but when it comes to the descent, well, the stress-sherpas seem to often loose their way and fall prey to the cold gremlins. And so it is, three weeks into law school, just at the very first inkling that I might be relaxing a little bit and WHAM, last night at the movies the fever-flashes and sore throat started moving in. Right on cue.

Shhhh

Law school is different. I tried to prepare myself for this, and I repeated the mantra all summer, "law school is NOT going to be like my college exprience, law school is not going to be like my..." But nonetheless, I'm taken aback. For starters, it's a lot harder. And it takes a lot more concentration.

Instead of studying in my space, as I always did in college, I've taken to reading in the "absolute quiet room", as my law school friends have nick-named it. It's a typical reading room, with soft light glowing from opaque tinted glass, long wooden tables, a few leather couches, and two full length windows that let in great afternoon sun. At 4:45 when I push open the swinging glass doors there is a student in just about every wooden slat-backed chair, all diligently hunched over books and laptops. I've never seen a library space so well-used. Or heard one so silent!

It is a sin to even whisper in the absolute quiet room, and the lord help you if you make any kind of bodily noise because there is no denying it here.

Witness this afternoon's episode: A guy who was sitting on one of the couches apparently likes to rock out while reading. His tunes were so loud (probably not that loud in any other normal circumstances) that they (along with the pin dropping and the water dripping) could be heard throughout the room. All the other students in the room started chuckling to themselves, and then to one another while this guy continued to jam to his torts reading. After all heads were turned his way and he continued to party on, oblivious, the statute of funny tolerance was up (that took all of 2 minutes among this crowd), and someone asked him to turn it down.