I am not a pussycat.

I have approximately 26 weeks left in law school (but who's counting). If anyone is ever interested in visiting law school--to see what all the fuss is about--consider this your open invitation to occupy the seat next to mine on any given day. I'll even let you sit between me and my friend, Jennifer; and I guarantee it will be an experience you'll never forget.

Law school can be intellectually stimulating; but, most semesters can be summarized as 12 weeks of boredom and busy work, followed by two weeks of intense studying, followed by two weeks of exams. Some students actually try to learn stuff during those first 12 weeks. I try to keep my sanity by not taking this Socratic method of learning too seriously.

Part of the therapy for surviving those first 12 weeks involves a combination of distractions, including instant messaging. I have developed a talent for looking intently at the professor, glancing at my book (as if taking notes from it), and then glancing back at the professor, all the while chatting online with a friend who is in the library or sitting three rows up. And some of the best laughs that I have ever had have occurred in the past two years--mainly because law school classes are not intended to be humorous; so, half of the humor in any given situation is in trying not to laugh--in the middle of estate tax class, while learning about powers of appointment--while chatting with someone online.

I have a top ten list of the funniest things ever to happen in our law school classes. Last week, a new No. 1 was crowned, and all the others were booted down a notch or two. I don't know if I can do this story justice in print, but I am going to try. If your sides aren't splitting when you read this, please call me and demand that I tell the story instead. I promise you that after 2+ years in law school, it is the funniest thing that has happened in class to date and literally brings me to tears every time I repeat it. Here goes:

Thursday is a long day for me. Classes start at 8:00 a.m., and my last class ends at 8:30 p.m. Except for a quick lunch break, I am in class or at work (in the lab) the remainder of the day, and by 6:00 p.m.--when the last class starts--I'm already a little punchy.

Last Thursday we had a guest speaker for Juvenile Law (the last class on Thursday)--a local juvenile court judge. In his bio, he told about his wife and kids, but, still, he was a bit effeminate. To pass the time, my friend, Jennifer, and I initially started betting on how many times he could flail his arms in one minute. On instant messaging, here's how that conversation got started:

6:26 PM me: this sounds like a coming out of the closet story
6:33 PM Jennifer: almost as exciting as a box of hair
6:36 PM me: what is in the water in salem?
6:42 PM Jennifer: this is horrible
6:43 PM me: nice guy, but definitely a flower child
Jennifer: do you think he does marijuana and crack, or just drops acid?
6:44 PM me: it's just a clear example of too much sweet tea
6:54 PM Jennifer: what is he talking about?
6:55 PM me: i left 7 minutes ago
6:56 PM Jennifer: Has time stood still?
me: let's count the times he flails his arms like clay aiken
Jennifer: 29, 30, 31, 32
33
6:57 PM 34
35
36
dickens!
42
me: STOP!
7:03 PM Jennifer: and we got 26 arm flails on that story
me: ohhh, reverse wave! ....what does that count?

The arm flails were quite distracting, and I was getting a little "giggly," as a result. And, in law school, the code of honor requires that when one student sees that another student is about to laugh out loud in the middle of a serious decision, it is that student's duty to push the other completely over the edge. Friend or foe, this is always a good game.

Jennifer could see I was struggling. I would occasionally cough to masquerade a laugh or just to let off some steam. I was trying to maintain my composure and tried even harder to intently listen to the guest speaker. But his mannerisms were just too humorous. His short, stout body, flailing arms, and squeaky voice reminded me of a cartoon character. But, finally, the judge moved on to a subject that interested me, so I asked a follow-up question, which was something like, "It sounds like first offenders are offered a measure of grace in your courtroom, but what do you do when they appear before you for the second or third time?" To which the judge moved closer to my seat (on the second row) and with a double flail of the arms said, "Well, (flailed arms up) I don't want you to think that I'm some kind of pussycat! (flailed arms down)"

And what he said after that is really unimportant, because I didn't hear a word. Instead, in my peripheral vision, I could see Jennifer pouncing on the keyboard, and I was certain that it was about the "pussycat" comment. To diffuse her incoming message (which I was sure would send me over the edge), I rattled off a quick message to her and beat her to the punch--or so I thought...

7:20 PM me: i just made him say 'pussycat' Wow!
Jennifer: hey there pussycat!

Pretty funny, huh? Oh, I hope so. I know I can tell this story a whole lot better than I can write it; but, the humor in it all is that I don't think I have ever heard a judge (or any other grown man) use the word "pussycat" when referring to anything other than a female cat. The entire comment just caught me off guard, combined with the physical and mental exhaustion, and I was now losing the battle of the giggles. And, Jennifer, started throwing everything at me, but a lifeline...

So, while the judge is yammering on and on about how serious it is to be a repeat offender in his courtroom, Jennifer starts bombarding me with the lyrics to Tom Jones' famous song, "What's New, Pussycat?"


7:21 PM Jennifer: what's new pussycat
7:22 PM Jennifer: Woah, Woah

Ok, this was funny. And I smiled. And I thought, "I remember that song. Wow. What a long time ago." But, Jennifer wasn't done.

7:22 PM Pussycat, Pussycat
I've got flowers
And lots of hours
To spend with you.
So go and powder your cute little pussycat nose!

Dang it! She has googled the lyrics and is sending them to me one line at a time.

7:25 PM Jennifer: What's new pussycat? Woah, Woah
What's new pussycat? Woah, Woah
Pussycat, Pussycat
You're so thrilling
And I'm so willing
To care for you.
So go and make up your cute little pussycat face!

I finally was able to gain my composure and send a response.

7:26 PM me: I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!!
7:27 PM 8+ minutes on this question
7:29 PM 10 minutes

And, notice, I was trying to change the subject; but, Jennifer wouldn't let the pussycat song go...not yet.

7:31 PM Jennifer: Last verse....
What's new pussycat? Woah, Woah
What's new pussycat? Woah, Woah
Pussycat, Pussycat
You're delicious
And if my wishes
Can all come true
I'll soon be kissing your sweet little pussycat lips!

One line at a time she fed it to me; and, by the time she got to end, I was a goner. Tears were rolling down my cheeks, and I couldn't even make eye contact with the judge. I sent one final message to her...

7:34 PM me: you are evil

At 7:34 I found the strength to close my laptop without completely losing control. I knew that I couldn't look at Jennifer or we would both burst into laughter, get kicked out of class, and probably expelled from law school. A week later, though, we are still laughing about the entire pussycat adventure. There have been some funny moments in law school, in class, online, and in study groups; but, nothing in these two and a half years has come close to last Thursday evening, with our guest speaker, and the gift that he dumped in our laps when he said, "I don't want you to think that I'm some pussycat!" Priceless!

The story has now circulated amongst our circle of friends, and we are all smiling like Cheshire cats when we greet each other with, "What's new?" I passed a librarian in the hall yesterday, we exchanged the required pleasantries; and then when he was about three steps past me, he said, "Meow." I almost wet my pants.