1. All my untouched Public Law readings from Seminar 6 onwards. I would go into details, but I honestly cannot recall off the top of my head what they are. All I remember for Public Law is LCL's rabbit standing for elections and "democracy is not a matter of counting hands";
2. Resulting trusts and quasi-matrimonial...property, assets, no idea;
3. Everything Prof. BC did because I barely paid attention to his lectures;
4. Negotiations and more time-wasting, irrelevant and utter bullshit LCS bullshit;
5. Tracing. I zonked out of the second half of the lecture because I was totally asleep (it was a ten a.m. lecture - enough said) and because I didn't charge my laptop battery and it died on me; and
6. Pull it together long enough to survive the exams, i.e. to prevent myself from failing Public Law and from getting a C for Trusts and Equity.
Because I still feel like I'm drowning slowly in quicksand. There are things out there that still don't make any sense, emotional baggage I have yet to let go of, problems and anxieties cropping up every now and then that are really peripheral to the big, umbrella issue. Like how unconscionability in Equity is an umbrella principle that has to be justified, meaning you still have to explain what is unconscionable and why it is so. You can't just slap liability on the defendant on the basis that his behaviour was unconscionable; you have to explain what he did that was unconscionable and why it was unconscionable.
(The side of my brain that's continuously prac crit-ing almost everything I read and write is dying to delete those last two sentences. If the preceding paragraph were to be scrutinished under a practical criticism microscope, the person looking through the lenses would think I'm talking about unconscionability outside of the realm of Equity. I'm not. This is how my writing works: It's disorganised, it's pointless, there is no cohesion. It reflects how my brain works: That random thought about unconscionability in Equity popped into my head when I wrote "umbrella issue". Hence. I'm never going to make it as a writer; I'm so disgustingly ill-disciplined.)
This growing up thing isn't easy. At all. If I weren't pushed towards it, I probably would never have embarked on it. I just wish things were simpler, less confused, that I could watch Rebel Without A Cause again and let James Dean solve all my problems.
But I'm not that girl anymore. It would be an easy pill to swallow, except I don't know who this new person is in her place. Identity crisis, existentialist angst. And no one who knows me inside out to sort it out with me.
Maybe we're all self-serving. Maybe love only wishes it were unconditional.
"We have to make our own mistakes. We have to learn our own lessons. We have to sweep today's possibility under tomorrow's rug until we can't anymore, until we finally understand for ourselves like Benjamin Franklin meant. That knowing is better than wondering, that waking is better than sleeping. And that even the biggest failure, even the worst, most intractable mistake, beats the hell out of never trying." - Grey's Anatomy 1x06, "If Tomorrow Never Comes"
I've wondered why I write these angsty entries when I know that people I know read this. Am I seeking attention? Am I seeking sympathy? Is it a cry for help? It has to be all three, hasn't it, since this is a public journal and my friends read this, as well as acquaintances and strangers, but mostly my friends. Why do I feel the need to let it be known so publicly that I'm not in the cheeriest of moods?
But here's the truth: I'm not seeking attention. I'm not asking for anyone's sympathy. I write about these things precisely because I don't want to talk about them and I don't expect or hope for anyone to call me up after reading an angsty entry and ask me what's wrong. I appreciate those who ask, but it's a bonus rather than the point, and those who don't ask don't lose any points with me either.
This is my way of coping, for better or for worse. And that's really the best explanation I can come up with for now.
How many wisdom teeth does a person grow in her lifetime? The right side of my mouth is still hurting like fuck and everytime food finds its way there, it gets stuck. Once it gets stuck, it hurts even more. Sometimes I think I've dislodged the stray food from the crevice but a day later my tongue pushes around the area and I discover that I haven't dislodged the stray food after all. When that happens, the area hurts even more. I'm thinking it's called an infection.
Eating is a pain now - literally. It's nearly impossible chewing on one side of your mouth, but chewing on the other side hurts way too much.
Maybe it's time for that liquid diet.
There is a can of Kilkenny sitting in my fridge and I am waiting for the right time to drink it.