No rehashing of the wild and crazy New Year's Eve, mostly because there wasn't one.

No rehashing of anything wild and crazy, actually. I had a cold all week.

The highlight of the trip may have been a little excursion Elise and I took on Friday. (Hi Elise!) (I won't say that all the time, I promise. She's without a computer at the moment anyway so I can't even be sure she's reading it yet) (parenthesis) (that was for her benefit) ANYWAY, for those of you not on the mailing list, Elise had gotten a letter from our former school district saying that if we wanted our files from our stint in the gifted education program, we could go pick them up anytime before January 15, otherwise they'd be destroyed.

So we did. And it was hysterical, because we couldn't figure out how to work the elevator to get up to where our files were. We joked that if we couldn't work the elevator, they'd report us as imposters of gifted people. Then we got the files, and we were so interested in peeking through them that we stood in the elevator for quite a while before we noticed we weren't going anywhere, which started us again.

See, Elise and I have this very strange tendency to laugh ourselves sick whenever we're around each other. We both find the oddest things amusing (usually things we ourselves say), and then we laugh and laugh until tears are streaming down our faces and others around us are wondering if they ought to call the men in little white coats.

My favorite story about this tendency comes from an acting class we took together in junior high. We volunteered to make up a scene together, and we ended up having to do something where the characters didn't look at each other, because every time we did, we'd giggle uncontrollably.

And now she's leaving me. [ :-~~~~~ Big raspberry to you, E.] But I'm proud of her. It will be an adventure.

The files, by the way, were very intriguing. I was moved up from kindergarten to first grade, and all the tests and reports from that time are in there. They knew I was smart enough to handle first grade, but they wanted to make sure that I was emotionally ready as well. My mother did tell them that she thought I was physically ready, i.e., that I would not need a nap. (Awww.)

Apparently I was a very mature, gracious child, although my mother reported that I tended to "sass" and had my feelings hurt easily when reprimanded by my father. (I'm sure my therapist will be interested in that assessment of me as a five-year-old, although as far as I can remember, I had my feelings hurt whenever anyone reprimanded me.) It also shows that my I.Q. dropped about fifteen points from the time I was 5 to the time I was 12. (Gee, I wonder what it is now!).

The other interesting thing is that the first reports of an organizational and/or time management problem occurred at age 9, and they were pretty consistently reported each year from there on out. I'm wondering why nobody ever noticed that it never got better.

Again, I also mentioned this on the notify list (just join already, why don't you), but after I told Elise about this journal, I slept on it, then decided I wasn't going to tell anyone else.

Elise asked if it was because she reacted differently from what I expected, and it isn't that. It's that I reacted differently from what I expected. I'm not sorry I told her about it, and I want her to read it, but at the same time, bringing this strange little endeavor out into the light of the real world felt... well, strange. When I was explaining it to her, I felt like I wasn't doing it right, like I wasn't able to really express what this is for me. She seemed fine with it, not at all weirded out, and even said that it sounds like something I would do.

But still. I think she gets to be the only one in on this, my strange little secret. ('Cuz you're special, you know.)

(All right, I promise I'll quit talking to her now.)

Well, break's over, and tomorrow is my absolutely positively last first day of class ever.

Yikes.

I'm taking Trusts & Estates, Internet Law (cool), White Collar Crime, Negotiation and Mediation Skills, and a Religious Liberty Seminar (which means we write a paper instead of taking an exam). Only 12 hours of class, because I get 2 hours of credit for my ATLA moot court deal, which rocks because it's over the first weekend of March. But we'll be practicing two nights a week until then, so it will be credit well earned.

And speaking of school, my grades have started popping up (we get them online) and it's looking to be my best semester ever. Woo-hoo. I have only one grade still unreported, and if it turns out the way I think it will, I will have no grade under 80, which will be a first for me. (The school's grading policy is to center the curve at 80, so smack in the middle is cool with me.)

A completely useless piece of information, but here you go: The exteriors of "Girl, Interrupted" were filmed in the next town over. It apparently looks a lot like Boston in the 60's, even though I am not in Boston, or even Massachusetts. But if you see the movie, check the credits, because I'm sure it says something somewhere. Then go get a map, look for the closest law school (to the west... there's another law school to the east, but it's bad, we make fun of it), and presto, there I am.

Of course, we already went through the whole Molly Pitcher thing in Gracefully, and if you're dying to know, you could just write me and I'll probably tell you. But if you like a challenge, the movie is supposed to be pretty good.

Unlike "In Dreams," which we watched on Friday night. God, did that movie suck. It is by far the worst movie I have seen this year and maybe even last, and probably the year before that. It makes you wonder how such talented people as Annette Bening and Robert Downey Jr. (who does have some talent, in addition to a few problems) and Neil Jordan can get together and produce such a God-awful movie. At one point we started watching it on double-speed just to try to bring an early end to our pain.

I would have been much happier just watching our first selection again, which was "Go." (That movie rocked. "Where'd you learn to drive, Circleville?") But we wanted a scary one too. "In Dreams" was not scary, except for being frighteningly bad.

How's that for a nice big welcome-back Monday-morning entry? It's amazing how well I can blather, when I put my mind to it. I haven't even talked about Harry Potter yet, which I read over break, or The Girls' Guide to Hunting and Fishing,, which I read on the plane. The first book came courtesy of Santa, the second courtesy of my fellow Oliver Platt groupie Kate, who apparently went searching for my amazon.com wish list even though I myself had forgotten I had made one, and I think it only had like two things on it. She rocks, and makes me completely long for the days when I will once again be able to afford to buy gifts for people I am not related to. Next year, you guys, I promise.