Notes Notes Notes

I've read about half the material for my criminal procedure class and have generated six pages of written notes. At this rate, I'm going to have to stock up on looseleaf real soon...

We finally got internet! I mean our very own! No more trying to find open networks to connect to. I was initially rebuff to getting it since I could manage with wireless from school, but figuring its only going to be about $11 for each of us per month, what the heck.

ON that note, why is it that the people who come in to install cable/wireless always look like convicted felons? The guy today --prepare for the stereotypes-- had a broken tooth, baggy jeans and tats all over but his personality was quite affable. I was getting concerned though because he kept asking me questions, like where I go to school and what I do and how long I've been living in this apartment. Suffice to say, I played it off like it was no big deal but I was getting a bit uncomfortable with all the prying. He figured out I went to law school because stupid me left a casebook on the dining table to study. Once he caught sight of it...

Friendly "ex-felon": OHH so you're one of those, eh?

Me: Heh.

FEXF: Yeah I know PLENTY of lawyers. Stay away from the drugs...

Me: *nervous laughter*

FEXF: You wouldn't believe where I've seen some of these judges and lawyers turn up. All cool in the courtroom but outside [muffled words, possibly "alleyways"] they're all different.

Me: Oh. I'm not like one of those!! (In hindsight, what kind of response was that?)

FEXF: Just stay away from the snort. Stay away.

Me: *more nervous laughter*

Well, I didn't inquire about how he knew so many lawyers. One could only imagine. He was really nice though, hooked up a router for us since my roommate and I looked completely clueless when he attempted to explain the self-installation part of that.

Speaking of clueless, when I came home this afternoon, our fridge wasn't working. After calling maintenance several times, including having to deal with a very 'tudy security guard, the repairman came. All he did was flick the switch on the circuit breaker. He gave me this look like "You couldn't figure this out on your own? Pathetic." Little does he know that I suspected it was probably a circuit breaker problem, considering the electricity everywhere else was working. I just didn't want to touch the wrong switch and blow a fuse. Sheesh!

Off to sleep. Whims and dreams await.