Monday, May 01, 2006

The long kiss goodnight, and good luck.

Categories: Humor, Law School

The following column first appeared in the Georgetown Law Weekly on April 18, 2006.

So, here I am, a few weeks removed from my last year of law school. I will do my best to avoid any complaining, whining, non-to-subtle allusions to illicit online activity during my corporations exam, paeans to candy or beef jerky, or negativity in general. Self deprecation will be kept to only half capacity.
Instead of the usual mix of profanity and beta-male angst, I present to you a list of the thing I’ve enjoyed most about the last year, both at Georgetown and in general. This is a feel-good story, and you should read it as such. Unless, of course, the reason you’re reading this is that you’re in Courtside, someone left this on the table, you want to read something, and there is no Washington Express available.

Thanks to the general lethargy of everyone else here, the gym is less crowded than ever. People are studying, running outside, or sitting on their soft butts at home watching “Lost”, which gives my soft butt the chance to finally fit all of my bags and my coat in one of the long lockers in the gym. Until now, there was no way to fit a backpack and a gym bag and a coat into one of the little plebeian lockers, so you had to take two. Thanks to my classmates’ out-right laziness, broken New Year’s resolutions, and bouts of depression resulting from failed relationships, I can finally store my dirty clothes in a spacious locker. Wow, that seems kind of petty, now that I think about it. I’ll keep trying.

I have forgotten more names than I can count, and I one counted to 129,625 on a dare. Thankfully, I don’t have to worry about that here, because I can always do a quick scan of the face book and look up the name of the guy who was trying to talk to me in the bathroom. Or, I can look up the name of the girl who intentionally doesn’t make eye contact with me in the cafeteria. Also, other people can look me up, which is just perfect for when I’m having an argument with my mom in the atrium of the library, or when I’m passed out and drooling on the couches in Hotung.

Man, I love fried chicken. I’ve more than once left in the middle of the day to find fried chicken. Sadly, DC is a fried chicken-deficient area, so I have to trek to a Chik-fil-A in either Ballston or in Catholic University’s campus. There is something inherently demeaning about eating thirty-six chicken nuggets while squealing in pleasure, especially when you’re surrounded by a bunch of 18 year old college students. I’m sure I’ve broken some kind of prohibition against gluttony, but in another case of fortuitous planning, the National Basilica is right there for quick and easy confession. Of course, my confession probably rings hollow since I have to make it again every week.

How many times have I been stumped about a tiny, insignificant fact almost killed me before the advent of these wonderful electronic resources? Wikipedia is free, obviously, but with Encyclopedia Britannica I get to have actual references and a reasonable expectation of non-lunacy. No longer will I wonder for days if it was Perceval or Galahad that encountered the Fisher King. No longer will I wonder about the nature of Urey’s experiments until I can’t sleep. No longer will I wonder what Prince’s childhood was like for longer than a few minutes.

Thanks to these two student groups, almost no one else gets any money come budget appropriation time. That, by the way, is a good thing; how many kegs on the quad do we need? How many excuses for subsidizing Armand’s pizza do we need? Most talks given here are cases of preaching to the choir, which is fine, but we go to them to cement what we already believe. If I wanted to do that, I would just start an R.S.O. named “Mark is awesome but deserves more money for some reason.”

They’re high in protein and the meat is nice and tender.

Thanks to these students, the rest of us have a chance to take classes after 3 in the afternoon, which makes for some great naps. Also, they keep things in perspective, since the majority of them are older, have kids, and think the day students are a bunch of hyper-stressed morons. I appreciate that, as I am. Also, they make up the majority of our big-name alumni, and thank goodness for that.

This is an important one, as “Astral Weeks” has gotten me through more days than I can count. Also, he shows us that Irishness, Protestantism, rock ‘n roll, and soul can all safely coexist.

There is another Mark Nabong out there, as I learned while doing a Google search for my own name. Thanks to the first-come, first-serve nature of domain name registration, I will always own the rights to Take that, punk. You won’t be bringing respectability to our name any time soon. This is just the first salvo in what I believe will be a long-running war of attrition between me and the other Mark Nabong for the next forty years. It will culminate in a rooftop battle to the death in 2046, where I finally defeat my nemesis. There can be only one.

While I do personally think she is an attractive women, my respect and fear of my female friends dictate that I add, “not that attractive, though.” That’s not even what this point is about, though. I’m thankful for Natalie Portman because she keeps the dude who sits next to me in Education Law preoccupied like 90% of the time during lecture, which increases my chance of scoring high on the curve. Way to go, Ms. Portman; keep that guy busy.

This will not be sappy, don’t worry. Just remember that for most of us this will the last official schooling we have for the rest of our lives. This place has given us the ability to be students one last time, and I’m thankful for the chance to be here, despite a crushingly low college GPA, a record of intoxication and minor confidence games, and a questionable personable hygiene. Thanks, Georgetown. I’ll try to take advantage of my last two semesters next year by burning as many bridges as I can.

The author was bested at the Nerd Challenge by Jenny Foreit, 3L, who scored a 98 and beat the author’s now-paltry score of 94. Congratulate her when you see her.


Anonymous blm said...

No fried chicken in DC? You're totally on crack -- there are neighborhoods in northeast I swear must power their electricity grids by chicken-grease. You oughta get yerself up there...just take the H2 bus until you smell that old familiar smell.

11:48 PM  
Blogger Paleobiology said...

You're right, I have not yet sampled enough neighborhoods in NE. That said. the Chik-fil-A I go to is at Catholic University, so I've at least been to North East.

8:15 PM  
Blogger Matt said...

There's a Popeye's Chicken near Metro Center. 11th and G, I think?

4:00 AM  
Anonymous joeygirl said...

doubtfull about the battle against the other mark nabong... he has joined the US marine corps.

3:08 PM  

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