Mr. Popoy cuts a tragic figure: salt and pepper hair; one arm resting on the protruding belly of one well-past middle age; one arm outstretched, fingers grasping for the warmth of human contact; and the forlorn, faraway look of a king who has lost his country.

I hope this isn’t the beginning of a trend, but for finals last semester and for finals this semester Undergrad Neighbor has done something unintentionally, yet incredibly annoying. Last semester, the day before my Torts final, it was inviting his douchey, possibly hipster friends to talk about Picasso, smoke douchey herbal cigarettes, and scream like Howard Dean while running into walls. What could possibly be worse than that? One word, nerds: Drums.

I am currently living on a law school budget, and, as such, my furniture and technology choices are often restricted to what I can find at WalMart, Target, the local Goodwill, or generous donations from the Parentals. That doesn’t mean that I can’t appreciate a lovely piece or appliance when I happen to see one. Like this television set, for example.

Ha! This could be any of my first year classes! Looking at this photo, I wonder if this is what my professors see.

If people tell you that law school work is a piece of cake, they’re lying. There’s reading. Tons and tons of reading.

But Teenie Me says she’s got it down. She read the first week’s worth of homework over the weekend. Yeah. She’s a gunner.

The Blawgirl is still catching up.

Teenie me is like me only smaller. Much, much smaller. In all other regards, we are strikingly similar.

We both wear glasses on occasion. We both have an affinity for messenger-type, cross-shoulder bags. We both love ginormous dogs. We both love chocolate, cheese and the TV show “Chuck”. We both think penguins – or “pengins” as Teenie calls them – have an evil, secret plan to take over the world.

Somewhere in the back of all our closets is a yearbook containing a photo that we hope will never see the light of day. Let’s call it the Bill Compton (or any other hunky vampire hearthrob, and, sorry, Edward Cullen doesn’t count) of yearbook pics.

But unlike Sexy Bill, these photos are decidely unsexy: your hair doesn’t fit in the frame, you blinked at a bad time, you sneeze at a bad time, you wonder whether you left the crimping iron on in the bathroom, etc.

The closest I’ve ever come to going to a circus was on the frequent childhood “family trips” to Las Vegas, when my parents would hand me and my brothers $20 to go play in the arcade. Between two boys and one girl – and despite the keen money management of said little girl – the cash lasted all of 10 minutes.

After that, one of our parents or other responsible adult would take us out to the Midway Stage where we would be dazzled by any number of free circus acts

Whether you’re dealing with the stress of applying to law school or the nail-biting of waiting for admissions (or, boo, rejections), I am of the mind that looking at cute things is as good, if not better, than taking aspirin.
If you don’t know me, let me explain: I am a sucker for all things cute, with special attention paid to puppies, kittens and baby elephants.
I’m one of those…