Here's to you, Law School.

After today, my blog can no longer honestly be titled "Artsy Fartsy Goes to Law School." Because, after today, I have already "gone." Today, is the very last day of law school. Sure, I have exams, but never again will I have to wonder if I'm going to get called on, never again will my immature fantasy of telling the professor that "I have been caught with my academic pants down and will have to pass today" have a glimmer of becoming a reality, never again will I be able to tell people that I am a law student just to see their faces either brighten with pleasure or screw up with disgust. I am done.

Unfortunately, I am not out celebrating another chapter in my life. Rather, I am in the law school library on a Friday night working on a Women & the Law paper whose topic has caused many the heated debate between the Knight and I.

I don't know what I expected my last day of school to be like, but this certainly has not been it. I rolled out of bed, took a shower, and tromped to school with wet hair and no makeup, something I probably have done only ten times in law school. I also forgot to put deodorant on. Since getting to school, I have worked on my paper for about 7 hours now. Somewhere in the middle I went to a class where I paid absolutely no attention and refused to clap with the rest of my classmates when class ended.

Don't really know why I've been quite the sourpuss lately, but it might be because I'm in denial. Denial that the rest of my life is starting. Now. Denial that the Knight won't be here for my graduation because he'll already be in Oklahoma City training to be an air traffic controller. Denial that despite wonderful clerkships, a fairly good GPA, and leadership positions in several law school organzations/journal, I still do not have a job. Denial that at the end of May, I too will be moving to Oklahoma City to be with the Knight and will be studying for the bar via iPod. Denial that I am now supposed to go to work like the rest of America with no chance of ever taking another "student sabbatical."

I really should be in a better mood. Law school has been good to me. I have made several wonderful, and hopefully, lifelong friends and met countless intelligent, interesting, and decent people. I have developed real mentor relationships with inspiring professors. I have learned how to think and write critically, how to speak to a judge and to a jury, and have been exposed to a whole new world outside of my conservative, white, upper middle-class bubble. I have tons of happy memories, football games, late night dance parties, keggers, bowling, Chillas, BLSA Balls, date auctions, etc. - Knoxville is even starting to grow on me. I cannot complain. So, as I sit here, typing and reminiscing about the last three years of my life, I raise my library-approved drink container and say "Here's to you, law school. Here's to you."


My lifestyle is headache-inducing

Yet another sign that law school makes me crazy…
Today, while in my Criminal Procedure class, I experienced the most terrible headache I have ever, ever, ever had in my entire life. Amazingly, I made it through class and stumbled home. On my way home, I really thought I was experiencing one of those blood clots in the brain and within seconds I would be keeling over dead.

Funnily enough, one of my first thoughts was that no one would know I had died b/c the Knight would just think that I was in the library and not answering my phone and Daisy is out of town until tomorrow. How would Betty eat? Then my thoughts drifted to what would happen if I dropped dead right on the street. How would the people around me respond? Would they stop to see if I was okay or would they step over me and go on with their business? Also, how do people go about contacting my loved ones? How do they know where to look? If you look at my cell phone recent calls, you could probably figure out that the Knight is someone important to me, as he probably accounts for about 75% of my calls. But, it isn’t like his name in my phone is “Husband.” I think in my planner I have him listed as my emergency contact number, but how long would it take for someone to look in there? Then I started wondering if by dying, all of my student loans would be forgiven? Obviously, a third year law student should know these types of things, but I’m still not real clear on what would happen. Would the Knight be responsible for them, even though his name isn’t on the note? Even if you sold everything I owned, I doubt it would cover one year’s worth of law school debt. Also, how does the debt collection system count what is mine and what is marital property? Can they go after marital property (again, we don't have a lot of money, but we do have TONS of china, crystal, and silver)? Seriously, these are the questions they should answer for us in law school.

Rest assured. I am still alive and finally headache free. Thank you, Exedrin Migraine.
I think that my headache is a physical culmination of the stress of graduating, finishing my seminar paper, preparing for two exams I am totally unprepared for, NOT HAVING A JOB, and the realization that in about a month and a half, the Knight is moving to Oklahoma City for 3 months of air traffic control training. I know that we live apart during the week now, but at least we get to see each other on the weekends. I don’t know how I’m going to be able to handle studying for the bar with no Knight to counteract the studying’s awfulness. Oh yeah, and - I DON’T HAVE A JOB. Kind of freaked out about this part.

Who knew?
On Saturday, Betty and I went to the Ugly Dog day at World’s Fair Park. No, I don’t think Betty is ugly, but she is at the age where she needs to socialize with other dogs, and I thought this would be the perfect opportunity. So we socialized. With big dogs. Little dogs. Ugly dogs. Prissy dogs. The fair was hilarious. There were contests for best dog costume, best owner/dog lookalikes, best dog trick, cutest puppy, and of course, the ugliest dog. The best trick I saw was a little Smokey dog who could actually bark out a semblance of Rocky Top. Amazing. My favorite moment of the day was when one little 7 week old Beagle-ish puppy peed on the stage while his owner was parading him across for the “cutest puppy” award. Not surprisingly, the little puppy won one of the top three places. Betty also met a ton of doggie vendors. And doggie owners. People loved Betty. All afternoon I heard “Aw, your puppy is so cute!” “Mom, look at that little dog – she is the cutest one!” etc. I am one proud momma. One woman who was a vendor gave me a bottle of water and Betty some hairbows that she was selling, just because she liked Betty so much. Another vendor lady kind of freaked me out with her love for Betty. She kind of just kept staring at us playing. Every time I looked over at her, she would nervously look away, like she had just been caught. I would feel her eyes on Betty, glance in her direction, and then she would hastily busy herself with the bottled waters and hot dogs she was selling. Finally, I walked over to her and asked her if she would like to pet Betty. Her eyes lit up and promptly began oozing all kinds of baby talk while mussing Betty’s little fro. She seemed heartbroken when I finally took Betty back to move on to the next vendor. One woman was so taken by Betty, she actually went a bought a toy for her just so she could watch Betty play. I’m not sure how I feel about all these Betty sugarmommas doting on Betty. Of course, I love that she brings so many people happiness, but on the other hand, … well, actually, I can’t think of a decent reason why I don’t like it, except I’m selfish with my time with her.

Anyway, here’s a picture of her with her first sugarmomma toy. “Little Dog” (as I have named the toy, yes, I know my creativity astounds you) has become Betty’s new favorite toy. Nudging past the anal beads, even. I can’t begin to tell you how happy this has made me. Now, if my in-laws ever show up, I don’t have to fret about the beads lying about. Because I can’t think of many things worse than realizing that you have anal beads on your floor AND then realizing that your in-laws know what those beads are traditionally used for.

Anyway, since we brought Little Dog home, she runs around with him in her mouth constantly. If I lie down on the couch for a little nap, I am treated a hopping glimpse of brown and white fro-head, then little beady eyes, followed by crazy smiling yellow Little dog in mouth, little beady eyes, and brown and white fro-head. This adorable little Betty trick is followed by a whimper, which I interpret to mean “Momma, get off your lazy bum and come play with me!”

Little Man Syndrome.
Also, have I ever mentioned that Betty goes to puppy class at PetSmart? Well, she does and her fellow classmates include an English Mastiff (Max),
a Doberman (Twiggy, but he is a boy),
and a German Shepherd mix (Belle - not pictured here). The picture below makes the mayhem look a lot worse than it normally is. These two guys mess with each other every class. Sometimes Betty joins in, but most of the time she just circles them barking and avoiding paws and tails.

Anyway, for any of you out there with new dogs (Ana), I highly recommend this class. Betty has already learned so much, and we have only been going 4 weeks. (Class is 8 weeks long).

A Little Bit More.
Do you know that Target commercial? With the different words followed by "–less"? Well, I love that commercial. The music compels me to get up and dance with Betty every time I see the dang thing. I wondered if it was a real song or if it was formed just for the commercial. Guess what? I found the song on iTunes and thought I would let you know that “A Little Bit More” is a real song and is sung by Jamie Lidell. While you’re purchasing that one, go ahead and check out another of Lidell’s songs, “Multiply.” Very nice.

Speaking of commercials, how many of you have seen the Starburst Berries-N-Cream commercial? You know, with the strangely dressed, odd, little man who kicks his heels and sings “Berries and Cream, Berries and Cream, I’m a little lad who loves Be-e-e-r-r-r-i-e-s and Creeeeeeeeam!” and throws his hands in the air? Well, I just realized today that we have the same haircut. Crikey.

Well, that's all for now. Could I have a written a longer post? Anyway, in closing, here's kisses from Betty!


For a long time, I never knew what PSA stood for.

It stands for Public Service Announcement. I think I missed that the first day of my public relations class in college, and for the rest of the year, I only heard the prof refer to them as PSAs. I can't remember when I figured out what PSA stood for, but it definitely wasn't in that class.

Anyway, that's what I'm doing right now. Around Spring Break last year, I wrote a post about how brown fat is better than white fat and that I lay out a few times a year to get a tan b/c I hate the fake tanners out there. Now, I am a changed woman.

Self's latest article about skin cancer and young women victims really got me scared. I couldn't find the link for you online, but basically the entire article is about young women with all different types of skin and lifestyles who suffered through a skin cancer scare.

During high school I was a religious fake-n-baker at the local tanning salon. Plus, I spent a lot of time outside playing sports. I never wore sunscreen until I got to college. Even then, sunscreen wearing incidents were far and few between. I wouldn't say that I really started wearing sunscreen regularly until I came to law school, and that is because I started to see the signs of aging (yikes) and I decided it was time to be responsible.

My whole point in telling you all of this is to give a little plug to the Jergen's Natural Glow line. Or any of those other lotions with a fake tanning aid. I think Dove has one that a lot of my friends like, too. Jergen's has a natural, subtle tanner in it and makes me brown enough to where I don't feel the need to go lay out. I just started using the face moisturizer too. The best part about the face moisturizer is that in addition to containing a 20 SPF, it also has a self tanner. So now, we can all be brown with no fear of the doctor's frown.

I do have two complaints. First, I wish the body moisturizer also contained the SPF. Second, it does have an unusual scent. I have not noticed the scent in the face moisturizer. The Knight and Daisy both swear that they can't smell the body lotion's scent, so, apparently, it isn't offensive enough to carry to others. The first week I started using it, I found myself being very aware of myself. And this strange new scent. But, you get used to that too. So, put your big girl panties on and deal with it. Skin cancer is bad and can so easily be avoided. Go put on some sunscreen. Now.

Material Girl.
Have I ever told you how much I love legal research engine reward points? For those of you not in law school, LexisNexis and Westlaw are the two major legal research engines. While you have to pay big bucks to use their services in the real world, in law school, both companies break their backs trying to woo you to use their product after you graduate. One way that they "woo" you is by giving you "research points" when you use their search engines. Those points can be used to buy all sorts of things.

Since I have been in law school, I took getting those points very seriously. What can I say, I am materially driven. To date, I have purchased a gorgeous Coach purse, a Nikon digital camera, a bonsai tree, serving pieces to match my everyday dishes, and countless books, CDs, workout things, and toys for the brothers, sisters, nieces, & nephews.

Since I am about to graduate, I thought it was time to go ahead and clean out my reward point bank account.

Things I just bought online (Thank you LexisNexis and Westlaw):

New carpet sucker.
A pedometer.
Book about pregnant chickens.
Book about desperate chickens.
Book about some generous tree.
Book about Porn for Women. Seriously, it is hilarious. Go check it out.
Book that I always wanted someone to give me at graduation, so now I'm buying it for myself because very soon I am graduating (for the last time) and I really don't think anyone is ever going to get this for me.

Beauty is Pain.
The last few weeks, I've been "up in the gym just working on my fitness." Actually, I've been preparing myself for a 5K. I know, some of you out there are probably sniffing at me and thinking "you have to train for a 5K?" But yes, I do. My last cross country running experience was 8 years ago when I was in high school. 8 YEARS. Can you believe that, people. I am getting OLD.

Anyway, here is the link that I am using to get ready. http://www.coolrunning.com/engine/2/2_3/181.shtml

I haven't exactly found the 5K that I am going to run, but I'm looking for something in Knoxville at the end of May or the beginning of June. Any suggestions?

For my birthday, Daisy paid for she and I to meet with a personal trainer for three sessions. No, Daisy is not trying to tell me that I am fat, but rather, this is something we had talked about for a while, and then I dropped the ball, and Daisy being the good and organized and healthy person that she is, went and got it for me.

Yesterday was our first session. I was a little nervous at first. Skinny, healthy, pretty people intimidate me, but our teacher, "Dorothy", was awesome. She was skinny, healthy, and pretty but in a forgiving, hippie way that didn't make me feel like the whole time I was working out she was judging me. Plus, she had hairy armpits. Who knows why I feel that is relevant, but for some reason, it made her seem a little quirky and approachable.

Moving on...the workout was tough. My heart monitor at times reflected a heart rate of the low 170s (which, I learned, is between fat-burning and cardio), my legs shook, and I was sweating (sorry, mom, no glowing yesterday) like a man. Today, I feel like I have been hit by a truck. My back is sore. My obliques are aching. My hips are screaming at me.

But you know what? I loved it! I am kind of a cheater when it comes to doing weights, and having someone standing over me making sure I have proper form and do the correct number of reps. If I ever can afford one after I am working, I will definitely go hire a personal trainer.

Thanks, Daisy. I really appreciate your gift and look forward to our other sessions.

Artsy Fartsy is pretty sure she witnessed a drug deal exchange while walking Betty this morning. Yikes!


Commencement is about to commence.

Just when I think I am learning to be more like Martha, I discover this in my fridge:

Seriously, how long has this hummus been in my home undetected? I guarantee you that the french onion dip never sees this kind of abuse.

Thoughts while watching TV on Tuesday:

PCD: The Search For The Next Doll (the highlight of my evening)

"Classy and Sassy?" See my earlier thoughts on slutty slut v. classy slut. Still no clarification. We're waiting any day, Robyn...

Melissa S., you better quit running your mouth about Chelsea. She once weighed almost 200 lbs and I know she could take you.

Boob pads? In dance practice? Cut Melissa R. some slack! And Mr. Dance Teacher, I don't think you need boob pads to make yourself feel feminine. You are doing quite fine without them, thank you.

Anastasia, you are totally making a stinky smelly face.

Asia, you are not a good singer. Quit patting your microphone while singing into it. It is not a baby, puppy, or anything other thing that requires patting. It is quite annoying. As are you.

Chelsea, I'm tired of the bangs. But you sure can sing.

(personal opinion: I think that the competition will come down b/w Melissa R. and Chelsea. Melissa R. is adorable, an incredible dancer, and she can belt it. Chelsea isn't the best dancer, but she is decent and I think her singing makes up for it. On the other hand, Melissa R. is struggling with if she really wants to be a PCD b/c of her morals (seriously honey, could you not have thought about this before you tried out?) and it would just be so interesting if the girl who won isn't completely sold on the idea of being a PCD)

Gilmore Girls:

Logan's looking puffy. Post-Chandler'ish rehab puff, possibly?

And Rory? That teacher is not cute.

Why does Lorelei walk like a duck? Quack, quack, waddle, waddle.

I wonder what kind of flowers I would want at Betty Rascal's funeral? Purple?

Boston Legal:

Of course Denise doesn't close her eyes when she's having sex with you, Brad, you have the body of a god! That doesn't mean she loves you.

Oh my, she does love you. Wow.

1 little Republican in charge of Homeland Security? Denise? What is happening to you?

Denise is cute preggers.

Poor Ken Doll is lonely. Hotness and lonely. How does that happen?

I want to be a judge. They always get to know the dirt first. And I want that judge's glasses. I could be the next Harriet Potter.

Denny, you know that Phyllis Diller would be way more fun than Raquel Welch. Go for it.

Alan Shore is so odd. Odd little man. Berries and cream! Berries and Cream!


In other news, I am very excited. My birthday is coming soon, and for the first time in 8 years, I am going to celebrate my birthday with my family.

Since my birthday always falls in the middle of exams, I haven't been with my family to celebrate it since I started college. Plus, they live in Tulsa, so it isn't really convenient for them to pop in for a quick study break to eat some cake. And jump in the lake. And act real fake. Okay, I'm done with rhyming.

Anywho, my little big brother is graduating from college and the Knight and I are going to drive to Tulsa, watch him graduate, and then drive back to Tennessee. A lot of driving for a couple of days, I know, but plane tickets are so expensive, plus I don't really want to fly with Betty, and this way the Knight can come too, so I'm a tad bit pumped. I love road trips. Even if 95% of the road trip is on I-40.

So, I've been thinking about good graduation gifts for little big bro. I thought about getting him some sterling cuff links with his initials hand-engraved, but then mom reminded me that he has enough trouble finding dress shirts (he's 6'6", muscle-y, and lean with go-go Gadget arms), and she really doesn't think that giving him a gift that requires to find dress shirts with french cuffs is something I should do.

I defer to her opinion, so now I'm asking for help. Here is my gift criteria. I want it to be something he'll keep for a long time. I want it to be something he won't give away or outgrow. And it needs to be $100-ish. Thoughts? Here are a few things I have considered, but none just "jump" out at me.

Fancy clock.
Tailgating Cooler with Grill.
Business Card Holder.
Money clip. (do guys even use these?)
Briefcase/Computer Bag.


Whatcha gonna do with all that junk?

Okay, this is probably one of the funniest things I have seen all year. You have to check it out. Now.

It reminds me of all the times my brother and I would sing rap songs in either deep soulful poet fashion or using the opera method (complete with a viking head thing and a pillow stuffed under out shirts).

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