how stupid is it? for all i know you want me to and maybe you're scared to say, "i'm falling for you." but i think we'd make a good team-i ain't fakin

(i know i usually don't post on fridays....but, whatever. i'm sitting here a-waiting like a dumb little girl for a boy to let me know if we're going out tonight---yea, yea...i just can't seem to learn...so hey, rather than pre-empt it and go get ready and then get a little sad when he doesn't call..why not post a lil sumthin' sumthin'? yea, i knew you'd understand my insanely fucked up logic!)

dear spring:

thank you thank you thank you! i don't know if you're here or mother nature is just being a cock tease once again, but nothing makes me happier than when something etches further the fact that my fellow law students are just retarded. example numero uno: it's gorgeous out, who doesn't want to be oustide? but, you have to kind of think things through a little, no? the law school has a park. that park is the ONLY grassy area downtown, outside of public square. every apartment complex within the vicinity allows dogs. doesn't take a fucking genius to realize that where you're sitting and eating lunch is pretty much where the canine population of the eastide of downtown cleveland goes to piss and shit to their hearts glee. YUM! make sure you rub your hands in the grass a little bit before you finish that subway sandwich. example numero dos: now, this aforementioned park isn't really a park. it's more like a plot of grass. it's basically the equivalent of a back yard....in fact? it's smaller than any backyard i've ever had as a child. so, i find it absolutely fucking ludacris that anyone would want to play frisbee in the little plot of grass...but what i find even more ridiculous? and just so we're clear, no..you cant' walk into the library and get a firsbee. yea, that's right...the idiots bring it to school with them. i understand it's nice out and you want to enjoy the weather...i even understand wanting to be physically active during a study break or what not..but bringing a fuckin firsbee to law school? yea. you're a douche. sorry.

hope you don't e-coli from your lunch-time picnics!
-the chick who said, rather loudly "can you believe these assholes are playing frisbee here?"

dear agency and partnership professor:

hi! recognize me? yea...i'm the girl that sits in the back row in the left corner seat...the one that looks like she's never paying attention to a thing going in class? that assumption is beyond correct, but, that my little muffin, is besides the point. i have one word for you: syllabus! yup! remember that thing you compiled and passed out so that we peon students had a schedule for assignments and discussions so that we may get our learn on? yea, why the fuck did you pass that out if you had no intention of ever sticking to it? i have nothing against you--if anything you're probably one of the few professors i've had during my wonderful legal education that geniuinly gives a shit about we, the students, succeeding--and even though i find the subject mind numbingly boring and beyond blatantly obvious, i don't mind doing the readings and thinking through all the problems. what i do mind is that when i sat down to do my weeks worth of homework on a sunday at the end of march, i didn't barter for that weeks worth of homework to NOT be discussed yet. i mean sure, other professors have fallen of the syllabus dictated track..but eventually we get to it. it's been three weeks and you haven't done a fucking thing with partnership liquidation. you did, however, go on and on about voter fraud for a few classes...and teach us how to do corporate balance sheets. not that i don't appreciate those little gems of information...it's just that i really don't give a shit abut those topics in light of those things NOT being on your final..while partnership liquidation is.

kisses! and i really do love how your glasses holder always matches your outfits
- id number 2947

dear biological clock:

yes, i understand. i'm jewish. that means that, unlike the rest of the population who pretty much hears your tic-toc at around thirty, you run at a rate that is four times faster in the case of those of us blessed with the ability to wear cute yellow stars of davids on our clothes. i get it. i understand. i knew it was coming, and thar ir was inevitable and all that jazz..but shut the fuck up already, 'cause you're wasting your breath. see those cute little blue pills i take every night before bed? yup...suck it up bitch, that's your kryptonite. and, aside from that...do you see me getting laid? do you see me dating? do you see me putting any amount of effort into either of the above mentioned things? nope. so unless you think me running to a sperm bank to make you shut the fuck up is really a plausible option, shut it and get used to the idea that your needs are on the mother fuckin backburner.

no disprespect. i got mad love to give
- e's ovaries.

dear dude in the '86 corolla for which i specifically made it a point to let into my lane because he suddenly remembered he had to make a right, and not go straight:

hey jackass, MOVE YOUR FUCKING CAR! i didn't stop because i had this insane urge to check my eye make-up in the rear view mirror (because, i drive a stick shift..so..my hands are kind of occupied), and i certainly didn't stop to check out the lovely scenery that surrounds E. 22nd (can you say ghetto?)...i stopped because you were sitting in the left lane with your blinker on..and no one else was stopping to let you in. yup! i stopped because you asked...so move the fuck over! don't sit there and kind of flail at me as if you're questioning what i'm doing. what the fuck do you think i'm doing?! i'm not going to see you start to move over and then slam on my gas pedal and make it my own personal game of chicken. i'm a college student, and i love my car...and i have far better things to do than to come to a complete stop (and downshift), just to sit and wait for you to decide to move over. so, no gimmicks, no smoke and mirrors, no nothing...just me being a somewhat courteous driver.....for once.

thanks for eventually moving..oh, and your middle break light is broken.
-the chick in the civic