Someone Think of a Title.

I officially have what many people would probably consider to be a boring life. I'm blogging early on a Saturday because (1) I fell into an alcoh... happiness-induced sleep very early last night, thus causing me to wake up this morning earlier than I normally would, and (2) I'm waiting for B n' T to open so that I may get my Cajun food fix for the day.

This is a picture of one of the beautiful buildings on Oglethorpe University's campus. When I lived in Atlanta, my mom would often take me there during the day to explore the campus. My brothers were also little mascots or something for the baseball team there. Perhaps I'll end up at a campus this nice sometime soon! I miss Atlanta's weather so much. I can't stand this "northern" weather in Kentucky. I've already decided that I'm making a flamethrower if we have another ice storm this year. Rock salt is for weaklings!

This week was moderately better than last week. I'm still struggling a little bit with the anxiety issue; I met with a doctor on Tuesday morning. She was extremely nice and seemed to be genuinely concerned, but ultimately she was not too helpful. She prescribed Zoloft, and there is no way in hell that I'm taking that stuff. Firstly, Zoloft is prescribed mainly for depression rather than for anxiety, although it's been approved to treat both. Secondly, those types of medications take weeks before they really start to work, and immediacy is a huge issue for me right now. I can't wait weeks for an anti-depressant to kick in, particularly when I have no idea how I will react to it in the first place. I took a similar medication over the summer for a few weeks and it did nothing to help me; if anything, it made me feel worse. I know that I'm not depressed. I just have a ton of anxiety, and I would like to be able to take something on an as-needed basis. The physician whom I saw was working in the student health clinic, and I'm rather certain that there is huge reluctance on the part of campus doctors to prescribe medications like Xanax to students. I understand this hesitation to an extent, but I also sort of loathe the obvious assumption that every student who takes something like Xanax will inevitably abuse it and become an addict. Ugh. These aren't OxyContins or "Laurie-Tabs", and this isn't Eastern Kentucky. Goodness. I may try to find a private physician and see what other options there are for me. Zoloft is dumb.

I received some very good news this week! My retroactive withdrawal was approved by the committee at UK, so I have a very good GPA again. This means that I can finally begin work on graduate school applications. I'll go to a few particular professors next week to get the recommendation process in motion. I've had recommendations written on my behalf before, and I know that different professors require different information before they'll write letters. Some even require transcripts! Scary! I'm sure they'll all want to know exactly which schools I'm applying to, which brings up an interesting issue: I don't exactly know every place that I'm applying to at this point. I have a really solid idea, but I need to do some more research and make some final decisions first. That's what I'll be spending part of the afternoon doing, I suppose.

I don't know why the thought of graduate school scares me so much. It's probably because I worry all the time anyway. It may also have something to do with the fact that I'm supposedly choosing a career path here. I keep reminding myself that I can always choose something else if I end up hating whatever graduate school route that I end up taking next year. Still, I'd like to get it right the first time around. My biggest issue with law school at the moment is the fact that I don't know if I would truly enjoy it in the long run. My main hesitation with the Master's/Ph.D. route is that I don't know if I'm ready for it. I've discovered that there is a huge difference between intelligence and knowledge, and while I'm confident in my intelligence, I think I'm lacking a little bit in the knowledge realm. My friends who have already gotten their graduate degrees tell me that I can compensate for this because I have a good work ethic. I value their opinion, but I don't want to have to absolutely kill myself just to be on par with everyone else in a program. At any rate, I could just be freaking out too much. I probably need to calm down. There will be plenty of time for stress later, right?

I'm starting to seriously cut down on my Facebook usage. It was cool about two or three years ago. Now it's sort of lame. Every time that I look at my friends list, which has been reduced by about 150 people in the last time year, I wonder why there are still so many [Pikeville] people on there whom I never really speak to anymore. By means of my multiple Facebook purges, I intended to make Facebook less annoying; I succeeded, but I still find myself wondering why I even have an account. Most importantly--and I think this should apply to everyone--I truly think that, after one reaches a certain age, having a Facebook account doesn't look very professional and is sort of pointless. I stress enough as it is about keeping this blog public. Not that there's really anything incriminating on here, but I also don't know who the hell is reading it. A potential employer, perhaps? A graduate school admissions person? Highly unlikely, I know, but scary nonetheless. The older I become, the more I value my privacy and the more I hate idiots and stalkers, and so I don't see my Facebook account lasting longer than a few more months.

Speaking of becoming older, my 24th birthday is on December 3rd! I'm really excited about my birthday this year. I plan on having some sort of par-tay on Thursday (the 3rd) or on Friday. The fact that I'm almost 24 is just kind of funny. I certainly don't look it, so I guess it's not an issue. Also, I'll be able to file independently for FAFSA. Once I get some financial issues straightened out, hopefully I will be able to move back to Lexington into my very own apartment. That would be an awesome way to spend my last few months in Lexington.

Somnus? Quid?

It's 2:30 on Sunday night/Monday morning and I'm wide awake. This is what happens to me when I overcompensate for my lack of sleep during the weekdays by sleeping an inordinate amount on Friday and Saturday nights. I must stop this. Overall, though, I've been very good about going to bed at a reasonable hour this semester. This novel getting-enough-sleep thing has been a significant factor in my being able to keep my sanity and also in helping to maintain my grades. If only I had discovered this five years ago as a constantly sleep-deprived, over-achieving freshman who frequently resorted to No-Doz caffeine pills in place of a good night's sleep, maybe my academic life would have been much easier; I also would have had no caffeine-induced stomach aches from hell. Ugh. Anyway, I will surely be paying for this in four hours when I'll be reluctantly forcing myself out of bed.

Before I type the customary bullets about all the general things in my life that are random and ridiculous, here's a fun fact for everyone: while driving on I75 today, I almost died due to another driver's negligence. Okay, so that actually happens to me about once a week on I75, but today was special. There is a roughly 3-mile or so span of road on 75 North that has been continually "coned" (I'm making my own road construction verb here) in some way or another for about four months (I'm surprised that I haven't started seeing orange road cones in my dreams). This is apparently how long it takes to re-paint two or three bridges on that stretch of road in some sickeningly bright blue color in preparation for the Equestrian Games, which I really couldn't care less about. Today, the farthest left lane was closed off, annoyingly protected by a legion of godawful-orange cones arranged in a line that looked as if it had been formed by an intoxicated blind man. I was driving in the far right lane, so there was one lane in between my car and the uneven "line" of cones. I was almost out of the construction zone when I saw some kind of state vehicle driving in the far left lane. All of a sudden, the idiot driving this same truck swerved to the right, hitting three cones. Where did the cones go? They went all over the damn place, and I had to do some really quick maneuvering to avoiding hitting them. I drive a two-door Saturn, not a F-850 behemoth truck; I really don't think my car would have handled hitting those things very well. Anyway, I ended up having to pull over completely while the cones rolled all over the road like pinballs. The funniest/most ignorant thing about this incident was the fact that it wasn't the expected shitty Lexington or Ohioan driver who did the damage, but one of the very people who was in charge of all this construction/"beautification" nonsense in the first place. Oh my.

Aside from being run off the road by vengeful escapee cones, here's an update:

• You may not care for this, but I think it's pretty cool: I discovered that I remember verbatim a poem I memorized more than 9 years ago while in 8th grade! Ha! It's not a huge poem--Robert Frost's "The Road Not Taken". Everyone had to memorize it, stand up in front of the class and recite it. I also remember a little more than half of the complete list of English prepositions that I had to memorize in alphabetical order in 5th grade (12+ years ago). Aboard, about, above, across, after, against, along, alongside, among, around, as, at, before, behind, below, beneath, beside, besides, between, beyond, but, by, despite, down, during, except, for, from... etc. I think I have an exceptional long-term memory, although my short-term memory is pathetic. I'm the person who will not be able to find my keys, purse, backpack and other essential things when attempting to walk out the door because I can almost never remember where I put them. But if I can remember things that I memorized ten years ago, does the fact that I lose my car keys on a daily basis really matter all that much? Hmmmm....
  
  
• I had scary panic attack episodes last week. I'm not entirely sure why; I'm fairly certain that the added stress of the dreaded graduate school decision has been weighing down on me lately. It's bad when you have to leave class because the teacher calls on you and you can barely breathe. Crap. It's worse when said teacher proceeds to ask you after class if your love life is the stress culprit. Ha! I still have to take the GRE; I'll do that either in December or January. I'm not too worried about it--I figure that if I can tackle the LSAT twice, I'll survive the GRE. I'm also considering an alternate option for graduate school, which I won't disclose over the internet for fear of angry telephone calls from friends and family members. I think it's best to mostly stay mum about my graduate school matters until I really know for sure what direction I'm taking. I wish that I could say my mind was made up, but it's still not. I'm ambivalent about both of my potential graduate school directions.

This was supposed to be longer, but I absolutely have to sleep now, lest I won't get a chance to dream about road cones.

Six More Weeks...

...until I get somewhat of a break (somewhat being the operative term here). I'm surviving, but barely. Last week was technically my midterm week, and it was awful. I stayed up on two nights past 5:30 a.m. writing papers. Procrastination was not the cause of these late nights, believe it or not! I encountered some terrible writer's block while typing the first one; the second one is a work that I'm considering sending to graduate schools as a writing sample, so I naturally wanted it to be very good. When it came to this latter paper, I spent what probably amounted to entirely too much time revising and editing it while also despairing over what I think is my slim chance of getting into a Master's program. Anyway, other than completing the two papers, I took a Greek exam and a written exam for CLA 450G. Lots of reading as well as Sanskrit and Greek homework were somehow fitted into my schedule too.

Anyway, enough of that. I'm certainly not under the impression that I'm the only college student who had a crazy midterm week. Plus, I'm fairly certain that graduate students would want to beat me for complaining. I still don't think I can fully comprehend the utter chaos that seems to surround the poor graduate students. That's something for me to look forward to, no?

What other new, interesting, and fascinating things are happening in my life? Thanks for asking.

• My midterm paper for CLA 450G (The Art of Ancient Warfare) covered unconventional elements--specifically warfare tactics--of the Peloponnesian War. The ideal length of the paper was only five pages, and I realized rather quickly that I'd have to narrow down my topic a little more. I ended up focusing on those unconventional tactics used in the Archidamian phase of the war (431 B.C.-421 B.C.). I was satisfied with the final paper, although I feel that it still needs some serious revision before sending it off to graduate schools! Scary!
  
  
• Speaking of this whole graduate school application process, I actually chanced upon a recommendation the other week. This couldn't have come at a more opportune time because I was looking for one additional professor whom I could ask to write a letter on my behalf. I happened to be wandering around the 17th floor rather aimlessly while waiting for a certain instructor to return to his office. I walked past the office of my medieval law professor, and she invited me in. She actually assumed that I came to ask her for a recommendation, which caught me completely off guard. We chatted for awhile about some general things, including her confusion regarding what, if anything, students learn in ENG 104 at UK. This is something I've always pondered myself. Before I left her office, she told me to come back to her whenever I needed the recommendation letter. This is awesome for two reasons: (1) she's a tenured professor with strong credentials and (2) the fact that she was very willing to help made me feel a bit more confident. I would not have thought about asking her before our random encounter simply because I felt that I could have made a better showing in her class last spring. Although I received an A for a final grade, I missed more classes than was reasonable and didn't participate too much. I suppose professors can still think highly of a student's abilities regardless of signs that may point to the contrary. I'm glad that this particular instructor respects me enough to voluntarily be a part of my graduate school application process.
  
  
• I had all A's and one B for my midterm grades. The B was in Sanskrit; I was expecting it, too. Our midterm grade in that class was based solely on 13 or 14 homework grades and, while I received nothing lower than an A on the ones I turned in, I let two of them slip through the cracks completely. Sometimes I just don't to my homework. I usually end up paying for it. Anyway, we're moving at a very quick pace--about one chapter per class meeting--so I'm a little behind. It helps that the professor is great and is very understanding. Having had only half a semester of this language, I have the utmost respect for anyone who has learned Sanskrit incredibly well. It's fascinating and sometimes even fun, but it's incredibly difficult. The fact that I've learned a good amount of Greek and Latin has helped me immensely in terms of learning cases, declensions, conjugations and syntax, but some of the linguistic concepts involved in Sanskrit have given me a lot of difficulty. If you ever want to give yourself a migraine, study Sanskrit and learn internal and external sandi rules, then try to transliterate and deconstruct a huge Sanskrit sentence. I'm still debating whether or not I'm going to stay in Sanskrit next semester or replace it with a Latin or Greek class.
  
  
• I encountered a new breed of social deviant last night at my favorite/least favorite coffee shop in Lexington. (This in itself is crazy, considering that I have previously had interactions here with the gamut of weirdos.) Intending to work on a presentation, I wandered into one of the upstairs rooms, in which there was a younger guy and girl couple at one table and two young women at another table. While unpacking my things, I noticed that the couple was looking in my direction and kind of snickering. Okay, so I established quickly that those two enjoyed acting like high schoolers. Great. After I had been typing for a few minutes, the guy turned in my direction and gave me the most irritated look. I asked him if there was a problem, and he told me that I was typing too loudly. WOW. Really, asshole? I'll try not to breathe while I'm at it too. The two other women in the room were conversing in Spanish at a pretty reasonable voice level. All of a sudden, the jerk turned to them and demanded that they "take their useless conversation elsewhere." The girls lowered their voices but didn't leave, so he proceeded to become angry yet again. I ended up moving into a different room because I couldn't handle his utter douchebaggery. I understand that going to any coffee shop is somewhat of a gamble if one requires silence to be able to focus. If the idiot absolutely needed complete noiselessness, he should have gone to the damn library. It didn't help that he spoke to me as if I were sixteen years old. In reality, I am probably much older than he. Maybe I should have pulled out the age card. Oh well. Ridiculous!
  
  
• Despite the fact that I'm very stressed with school, life is going very well in general. I do wish that I had more time to spend with a few particular individuals, but I'll survive! Laetissima femina sum!
  

Valete, amici et amicae!

The Pre-Facebook Dark Age of Hotmail Correspondence

I often forget that I have a fully functional Hotmail account because I hardly ever use it. I've had the account since sixth or seventh grade, long before the days of MyBook or FaceSpace. Aside from ICQ, which was mostly nothing other than a means of killing time and/or starting drama, the Hotmail account was my way of staying in touch with my friends. Looking back through my e-mails from years ago (the earliest was from 1999, ha!) was highly entertaining. I've pretty much come to the conclusion that 90% (or more) of people in high school and middle school are idiots. I guess you can't really blame them, particularly when they live in a town like Pikeville where there are so few things to to keep one busy. And, obviously, maturity during the teen years is usually lacking. Things that seemed so important during high school are just hilarious in retrospect when you finally graduate and get the hell away from (most of) the stupidity.

Anyway, although I definitely discovered some drama-laden e-mails from friends, a lot of the e-mails were those surveys and quizzes that were wildly popular with the young'uns during the pre-MySpace days. Most of the surveys tended to ask the same questions, but every now and then I would encounter one that was slightly different from the rest and thus not nearly as mind-numbingly boring to complete. I myself rarely get creative but I do remember making my very own type of survey: it was a fake "will" that listed a bunch of my random personal possessions and the people to whom I wished to give them. Hey, I didn't want to die intestate; I also wanted to make sure that my enemies would receive the crappy stuff. Of course, after sending this e-mail to my friend Katy, she made one of her own to ensure that the following belongings of hers wouldn't give rise to any disputes amongst friends and foes if she died: window opener crank; used soap; broken towel racks; shower "poofs" that smell like ass; broken weedeater; toilet scrub brush; and her lawn mower, which she herself wanted to keep so she could mow around her own grave. Bravo, Katy. See--Pikeville really is that boring, people.

At any rate, I think I'll fill out one of these time-killing surveys for fun. My homework for the night has been completed, and tomorrow I will be up to my neck in Greek and Sanskrit and will not have the pleasure of wasting time. Stalkers, get your pen and paper ready...

1. What time is it? 12:42 AM.

2. Name: Shelby Layne Friend. It's not the name I was given at birth, but it's my legal name now.

3. Nicknames: Shebby, Shelbster, etc. Any stupid variations of my name, basically.

4. Number of candles that appeared on your last birthday cake: If I had been given a birthday cake, there would have been 23 candles on it. I had birthday booze instead.

5. Date that you regularly blow them out: December 3rd.

6. Pets: One cat named Chewy.

7. Height: 5'3''

8. Eye color: Blue-green.

9. Hair Color: It's naturally light brown. I sometimes color it dark brown, but for some reason this always fades into a lighter, red-tinted color. I was called a ginger a few months ago and was not happy about that.

10. Piercing: Ears.

11. Tattoos: None.

12. How much do you love your job? I don't have a job. I guess school is technically my job. I love so many things about college, despite the occasional aggravations.

13. Past Residence(s): Pikeville, KY; Waterbury, VT; Atlanta, GA.

14. Hometown: Pikeville, I guess.

15. Current Residence: Georgetown, KY.

16. Had the drink Calypso Breeze? Ah, the mandatory alcohol-related question. No, I haven't.

17. Been in love before? Once.

18. Been to Africa? No.

19. Been toilet-papering? No, although I've had plenty of evil thoughts in terms of doing bad things to my enemies. I never act on my urges, though.

20. Been drunk? Yes, but I rarely drink. My metabolism and the fact that I'm an incredible light-weight make for interesting post-alchohol consumption incidents. Oops.

21. Been toilet-papered? Nope, fortunately I have not.

22. Loved somebody so much it made you cry? I've cried over idiots in whom I misplaced my trust and feelings. I don't think I would call that "love". But I've had many wonderful experiences that have compensated for the bad ones.

23. Been in a car crash? Not a bad one, no. I have been hit from the rear three times since I began driving, but these were all tiny "wrecks" that did negligible damage to my vehicle.

24. Croutons or Bacon Bits? Croutons, in a chicken caesar salad. Yum.

25. 2 doors or 4? Quattuor ianuae!

26. Sprite or 7 Up? Sprite.

27. Blanket or Stuffed Animal? Blankie.

28. Dumper or Dumpee? Now that's just gross.

29. Salad Dressing: Italian, and that delicious ginger dressing on salads at hibachi grills.

30. Color of socks: White. I refuse to be a sock snob.

31. Lucky Number: 17.

32. Why? It was my soccer number in high school, and I was on the first ever varsity soccer team at Pikeville. For some reason I think this is slightly important, but it's probably not.

33. Place to be kissed: The lips. Unfortunately, there is a lack of good kissers, and I don't understand this.

34. Movie? There are so many great movies. Christmas Vacation has to be one of my favorites comedies, and Amadeus is great. Gran Torino and Boondock Saints are good vigilante justice picks for assholes like myself.

35. Quote from a movie? : "Merry Christmas! Shitter's full!"

36. Favorite Holiday: Christmas is wonderful. It's the one time of the year when I can truly relax, and by that I mean sit around and play my Nintendo DS, my Xbox 360 and virtual console games from the Wii. I get to reminisce, too.

37. Foods: Red beans and rice from Bourbon N' Toulouse makes my day about six days a week.

38. Day of the Week: Saturday.

39. Song at the moment: That's a secret.

40. Word or Phrase: I've been very frequently using the term "douche bag", not really because I like it, but because it's so applicable to certain individuals, particularly my overly-eager classmates whose single wish is to let others know how intelligent they are. Please, stop. I am from Eastern KY and can still compete with you on every level. How does that make you feel, rich kids?

41. Toothpaste: Crest Total Care in clean cinnamon flavor. Best. Toothpaste. Ever.

42. Restaurant: Bourbon N' Toulouse, Ramsey's, Joe Bologna's... The list could go on for quite awhile.

43. Flower: I don't have a favorite flower. This has become slightly problematic as of late.

44. Least Favorite Subject: Mathematics, particularly Calculus. Physics was okay, as was Geometry, but I'm not at all mathematically inclined. Why do you think I'm a Classics major?

45. Alcoholic Drink: Any mixed drink containing vodka, especially cosmopolitans.

46. Sport to Watch: Soccer.

47. Type of Ice Cream: Chocolate.

48. Sesame Street Character: Cookie Monster.

49. Disney/Warner Bros? I liked that talking blanket from The Brave Little Toaster.

50. Fast Food Restaurant: Fazoli's, Cane's, Zaxby's.

51. When was your last hospital visit: Aside from accompanying family members to the hospital, it was my senior year of high school. Having mono is not fun.

52. Favorite drink: Sweet tea.

53. What color is your bedroom carpet?: Cream.

54. What was the name of your childhood blanket? Blankie.

55. How many times did you fail your Permit and/or Drivers License? Zero.

56. Where do you see yourself in 10 yrs? Either practicing law or teaching at a university.

57. Which store would you choose to max your credit card? Probably Banana Republic, since I need to start buying some nicer clothes. Hooray.

58. What do you do most often when you are bored? Take surveys gotten from my rarely-used Hotmail account. Ha.

59. What words or phrases do you overuse? I overuse a wide variety of obscenities. I'm trying to cut back. Do they make something comparable to a nicotine patch for potty-mouthed individuals like myself?

60. Name the person that you are friends with that lives the farthest away from you: Kala.

61. Best thing(s): Being productive and successful.

62. Who will respond to this fastest? Nemo.

63. Who is the person you sent this to that is least likely to respond? This isn't really applicable.

64. What time is it now? 1:56 AM. I've taken some iPod breaks and completed some reading.

65. Favorite song/group of old times: The Village People? "Macho, macho man..."

66. The people who u can tell anything to: ...probably do not want me to list their names.

67. Vacation spot you want to go to someday: I'd like to go back to the Yucatan Peninsula in Mexico. It was beautiful.

68. Something you hate: Only one thing? Wow, that's too restricted for me. I hate this question.

69. 5 friends you enjoy hanging with: Dicaeopolis, Philip, Horatia, Quintus and Scintilla.

70. Favorite body part on the opposite sex: Eyes and arms.

71. Something you have always wanted to tell but haven't? I'm actually 18.

Oh, that's a picture of downtown Pikeville made from the infamous overlook. I'd love to figure out how to make captions and do some more things with these posts. I have a book about HTML but I doubt I'll get to read it anytime soon. Boo. dormire debeo! Valete, amici!

There's a Story Behind This Dress...

While wandering around the mall two weeks ago, I came across a dress that I loved not only for the way it looked but for the way it fit. The fact that I actually wanted to purchase it was a exceptional because I infrequently buy formal clothing; I have very little need for dress pants, skirts or dresses. (Far in the future, after I get my degree, I'd like to make a trip to Brooks Brothers, though.) Anyway, the dress ended up being a little pricey and I restrained myself from buying it at that moment.

Later in the evening, I was on the store's website and found that the same dress was much cheaper online; I decided to go ahead and buy it. Aside from the protective cover that I ordered for my iPod a few months ago, this was the first thing I had purchased online the whole year. The order was placed quickly and I received a confirmation e-mail almost immediately. This e-mail had a link through which I could track the package. When I checked the link the following morning, it indicated that the package would arrive around Monday, August 3rd. Hooray.

Well, Monday the 3rd eventually arrived, and I didn't receive the package that day. This really didn't concern me at the time. However, when my dress didn't arrive the next day, I got a little frustrated. I checked the tracking link that evening (Tuesday night) only to discover that, apparently, the package had been delivered on the previous Friday around noon. WTF? There was definitely not a package at my apartment on Friday; in fact, I was at my residence shortly after the supposed arrival of the package. I was thoroughly confused. Thus began this ridiculous FedEx debacle that I've been dealing with for days. Here's what has happened:

1. When I learned that the dress had been delivered last Friday, I tried to get a delivery confirmation. The FedEx website told me that I couldn't get one on account of the type of shipping. Huh? At this point, I was really pissed off (ask my roommate), so I went to bed.
   
   
2. On Wednesday, I went back online to the FedEx website to submit a claim. In order to do so, I had to register on FedEx.com, which was a magnificent waste of time. The claim process took at least half an hour, as I had to gather all the information about the manufacturer, the cost of the dress, the shipping costs, etc., etc. Wonderful. The final part of the online claims process involved attaching the following supporting documents: the order confirmation e-mail from The Limited (company from which I ordered the dress), the tracking and shipping information from FedEx, and the claim confirmation. All of these had to be submitted before FedEx would even review the claim. Before I could attach the documents, the website logged me out because I had been idle for an entire three minutes or so. Fuck. At this point I was about to toss my Dell across the room, so I gave it up again for the day.
   
   
3. Thursday arrived. I had cooled down enough by that point to try the whole claims process one more time. When I logged into FedEx.com and found what I was looking for, I lost my patience rather quickly--it turned out that I had to resubmit all the information that I typed in the day before. I proceeded to do so, being extremely annoyed in the process. When I had finished and was yet again at the 'Attach Supporting Documents' stage, FedEx.com informed me that it had already received a claim under that tracking number. Grrrrrrr. I managed to somehow make it to the correct place on the website at which I could finally attach the docs. I needed only to input the tracking number and the shipping date, and the website would supposedly pull up the claim that I had submitted on the previous day. The tracking number was entered. The shipping date was entered. FedEx.com did not like this information, as it informed me that the entered tracking number was invalid. At this point, I decided that FedEx.com was about as useful as an able-bodied 20-year-old welfare recipient from Greasy Creek.
   
   
4. I called FedEx hoping to speak with someone with an IQ at least in the double digits who could inform me of what I needed to do to remedy the situation. The friendly lady on the phone asked for my first and last name along with the tracking number for the shipment. She told me that, because of the tracking number, there was nothing she could do for me; apparently, my type of shipment was dealt with through a separate entity of FedEx. "You need to call the FedEx SmartPost hotline," she said in her best sorority girl voice. I thanked her and ended the conversation despite my urge to unleash a violent string of obscenities upon her. After all, it wasn't her fault that FedEx was ruining my day.
   
   
5. I called the SmartPost hotline. Due to the high volume of customer calls (I can't possibly imagine why this would have been the case), I was unable to speak with anyone. I didn't even get the luxury of being able to listen to craptastic muzak while waiting to converse with (or yell at) an employee. Moreover, unless I pressed certain buttons on my phone while waiting, I would be automatically disconnected from the call. This happened four times. Unbelievable, right? It didn't stop there.
   
   
6. I sent a rather opinionated and lengthy (yet tame) e-mail to The Limited on Thursday evening informing them of everything that had happened since the dress order was placed. Friday rolled around and I received an e-mail back from the company. I was naive to think that putting time and effort into fully explaining the situation would earn me anything other than an unhelpful and aggravating cookie cutter response, which is exactly what I received. The e-mail informed me that I would have to deal with the issue at my local post office.
   

I did nothing about this matter today; I found it better for my peace of mind to devote my time to activities that, upon their completion, would actually result in some sort of evident benefit. I've cleaned, done several loads of laundry, and studied Latin and Greek at Starbucks. Yesterday, while walking by a boutique, I spotted a dress that really caught my eye primarily because of its design and bold colors. It was unlike anything I'd ever owned. I tried it on; surprisingly, I liked it even more than the one that I had been so eagerly expecting to arrive at my doorstep. I decided to buy this colorful dress and, as is evident from the above picture, I've already gotten some usage out of it. What a funny thing: I would have never considered buying this new dress if FedEx had delivered a certain package like it was supposed to do. I'll get more usage out of this new one, and I positively love it. I suppose good things can indeed come out of frustrating situations.

In other news, I've found an LSAT study partner. He's very intelligent and diligent, among other things. Although I usually prefer to study solo, I enjoy to occasionally have someone within close proximity who can offer not only motivation but good company; this makes the process of studying a little easier to bear. I certainly have enough work to do during the next two weeks before classes begin. It helps that I've been able to go to my coffee shops this week without being so uncomfortable that I have the urge to run out the door or vomit. With the exception of the dress debacle, this is the best week that I've had in quite awhile. I hope it stays that way.

On the off chance that my package was stolen from my doorstep, I have a message for the ladies of Saddlebrook: good luck fitting your asses in a size 0. Thanks.

My Palce in the Bioshpere Consist of Poluting Enviorment and Chatering Only to I

In order for this post to make much sense, it's necessary for me to give a little bit of background information. During my freshman year of college, I enrolled in a human ecology course. At the beginning of the same semester, I also signed up for astronomy and physics; it was a science-intensive four months, but I truly enjoyed it. For about three weeks during my freshman year, I even seriously considered taking the physics route for my degree before I realized that I just had an irrational fondness for the Chemistry-Physics Building and certain individuals within it.  Anyway, this ecology course was particularly interesting from day one on account of a few factors: first, there existed that class dynamic that's created only when students from all academic interests converge upon a single classroom; secondly, the professor, whom I'll just refer to as Dr. G, had never taught this course before, as he had been instructing only upper-level biology classes. The latter fact made it necessary for the unfortunate Dr. G to dumb down the course material, lest his inability to do so result in 200+ irate students with grades worthy of nothing more than a swift kick in the ass. Needless to say, BIO 103 in spring '05 was a bit of a clusterfuck. Hence the resulting moments of priceless entertainment.
A portion of each student's grade in the class was earned through the completion of four or five short writing assignments related to lecture materials. At this point it would be appropriate to remind my readers that, at the time of this biology class, I was still very insecure about my writing skills. I graduated from the (supposedly) best high school in eastern Kentucky; that's wonderful and everything, but the education standards in Pike-vuhl and surrounding locales are not exactly top-notch.  (Diane Sawyer, I'd still like you to spend some quality time floating down the Big Sandy River unarmed for a few days so that you'd get lucky and come across one of those Mountain Dew-drinking toothless rednecks whom you insulted in your documentary. Thanks for giving some befuddled, ignorant Yankees yet another reason to ask me how in the hell I escaped from the clutches of my incestuous family.)
Knowing that I would be competing with students from schools such as Lexington Catholic frightened me, and my assumption was that I would have lots of work to do before I could count myself among the ranks of gifted students. When time came for these writing assignments, however, I quickly learned that I didn't need to despair too much about my ability (or lack thereof) to construct logical sentences using decent grammar. Dr. G would always compile students' responses to the writing assignments in the form of a PDF document and post the documents on the course website for all to read. After being thoroughly amused and even shocked by some of the responses in these first PDFs, I decided to save the final writing assignment feedback onto my computer.  It was literary treasure, but I quickly forgot all about it.
...Until I rediscovered it earlier this week when transferring all the documents from my old computer. I think I got even more enjoyment from reading it the second time around. Let me get to the funny stuff here. The topic of the writing post was this: Identify the essence of the human species, and explain our place in the biosphere. If you care to, predict our fate. Brevity is a virtue, try for <100 words.

Ladies and gentlemen, without further ado, here are some of the golden responses and my two cents about each one:

• [Excerpt] Brevity is the duration of time and is used to predict the brevity of human life. WTF? Dr. G just wanted you to keep your response short, fool. 
• Humans are the most primitive species in the biosphere. We are hunters and gatherers, we adapt to our environment. We are the only species that has a language. We are also the only species to use technology. If the speciation pattern of the past continues, it is likely that the Homo Sapiens will diverge into new species and possibly become extinct. This student obviously missed out on some basic ANT 101. If I'm not mistaken, human populations began slowly deserting the whole hunter-gatherer lifestyle about twelve thousand years ago when agriculture started developing independently in different parts of the world. Hunter-gatherers do still exist, yes, but in very small numbers. Perhaps this particular student hunted campus squirrels and maintained a self-sufficient lifestyle somewhere around the university, proudly displaying the severed heads of nutjob campus ministers outside his dwelling. That would be incredible. Also: we're the most primitive species but the only one with language and technology? Huh? And, no, Homo Sapiens will not diverge into a new species unless we completely isolate part of the population and let the processes of speciation occur over thousands upon thousands of years. Not likely. 
• The essence of the human species is a very complicated thing to explain. We were placed in the biosphere to serve God and spread his gospel. Many people nowdays remain faithful and religious, however, it was in ancient times that our true essence to follow Christ was revealed. That was a time when all people believed and were followers of the Lord. We are here in protect the words of the Lord and to inform all people of the right way of life. Our faith does not need to be predicted because it is written in the chapter of Revelations in the Bible. The people who believe in the Lord will spend eternity in heaven while the nonbelievers and sinners will go to hell. I'm going to hell. 
• The essence of the human species is that we can not be replicated. Other species cannot talk and go about doing the things that we can do. For example, we can use our thumb as a means to grasps objects and use our hands in ways that if we didn't have a thumb we couldn't do that. and without us in the biosphere, the world deteriorate. Because we keep the cycle of Conover and herbivores balanced.the fate of human beings lie with how we treat our universe for the next century if we don't respect it and we keep polluting it then our fate will be the same as our universes. Dr. G should have considered letting one of the astronomy professors lecture to his own BIO 103 students. The Omniores here on Earf are not really affecting much in the grand scheme of the universe. 
• [Excerpt] Since homosapiens are the oldest fossil, dating back 160,000 years I believe that humans have been around for along time and unless God does not want that anymore we will be around for a very long time. I iz not a fossil. 
• Out of all of the diverse organisms that live in the biosphere. Humans by far have the most dramatic effect on it. wether it be buring of fossil fuels, mining, or scarafication when farming, we greatly alter our biosphere. this is also very concerning because humans is one of the youngest species. As humans we are likely to cause our own extinction. I agree with the first statement (the initial two sentences were meant to be a single one, I assume), but the rest is funny. Humans is one of the youngest species; likewise, these crackers is good. 
• we are here to dominate the earth and have fun doing. ill be very mad if they do not let me drive my sports cars around (Nissan 240sx and MBG) due to air pollution. i predict we are gonna do something stupid and blow our selves up. If all world leaders had this student's mental capacity, I could see the whole self-destruction scenario being a totally legitimate possibility.

You get the idea. I may continue with this post at a later date, as I have many more hilarious responses to share, but I think this is enough for the time being. All jokes aside, the general lack of proper grammar and coherency exhibited in these statements is pretty bothersome to me. While I don't think it's necessary for all college students (particularly those who are not required to write much for their particular majors) to be superb writers, I think it's a little shameful that our education system can't seem to successfully inculcate even the most basic of grammar concepts into students who are rapidly approaching the time when they'll be thrown into the chaos that characterizes college and the "real world." To make the matter worse, it's obvious that the general public and even some institutions of higher education are way too lax and nonchalant when it comes to the utilization of proper English grammar and spelling. One word, America: IMPROVE!

Perfectionism: the Ability to Turn Any Item Within Reach into a Straightedge

I am somewhat of a perfectionist, and I've known this fact for quite awhile now. It has only been recently that my perfectionism seems to have taken a stronger hold than usual, to the point where it has interfered with my productivity and efficiency in general. It seems as if many people who aren't pefectionists look upon those who are with some kind of awe and fascination, while others just find it rather amusing. Numerous people have commented on my organizational skills, on my attention to detail, and even on my handwriting. While I appreciate these positive comments, I also sometimes wish people would realize that being a perfectionist does not guarantee infallibility. To the contrary, my personal experience with chasing perfection has led me to waste tons of time that should have been spent more wisely; in the worst cases it has resulted in idleness, as I became so overwhelmed and frustrated with getting things "just right" that I decided that nothing I accomplished would ever be as thorough, complete, or acceptable as it needed to be.

I've no clue as to why I'm a perfectionist, but I know that I've been this way since I was a young child. One vivid memory I have that is relevant to this post is from the few months during which I lived in Vermont; I must have been either 8 or 9 years old at the time. My third grade teacher had assigned a project that involved each student constructing his or her own board game. Initially, the idea was very exciting to me--what third grader wouldn't want to make a game? Once I had purchased some foam board and began working, however, I became frustrated quickly. I was using a ruler in an attempt to make my lines for the board spaces as straight as possible, but they always looked crooked to me after I had drawn them. I completely started over several times and distinctly remember not being satisfied with the final product, although I received many compliments on it. That's a key thing about my perfectionism--if I'm not satisfied with the end results of my undertakings, favorable feedback from others rarely makes me feel any better. My striving for flawlessness is not a conscious effort to appease everyone else or improve my reputation. Unattainable as it often has been, my main goal in all my endeavors is personal satisfaction; often, the only way to achieve this is through my completion of impeccable work.

I've developed some really peculiar habits related to my perfectionism. Some of them make some sense, while others are just rather laughable:

• I have a huge issue with mediocrity. Strangely enough, though, I'd rather hand in a complete piece of shit than something better yet still mediocre. The all-or-nothing stance I've adopted when it comes to course work in particular has sometimes been really beneficial in terms of grades, but it has had its share of negative effects. Over the course of my crap year of college (most definitely the bane of my existence at this point), I eventually got to the point where I could perform only at a mediocre level, so I opted to give up completely. What a horrid decision that was! This was particularly confusing for my professors; they had seen what I could accomplish while in class, but I suddenly dropped off the face of the planet. I wish I could get over this problem and realize that there will probably be points in my education (graduate school in particular) when it won't be practical or even possible to perform at 100%.

• Whenever I do homework that involves writing, I absolutely must have a ruler or some kind of straightedge close to me. There are about five rulers in my backback because everytime I would misplace one of them, I'd simply go buy a new one. By the way, I have an uncanny ability to turn just about anything into a straightedge--my favorite items include credit cards, bookmarks and CD holders. I underline lots of things in my notes, including exercise numbers, titles of grammar sections, and important points. The crookedness of a line drawn by hand makes me genuinely uncomfortable in a way that's hard to even describe. Also, since I write notes only with pens now (I used to write with mechanical pencils but am so heavy-handed that my writing would always smudge), I have to have corrector tape with me. Sloth will overcome me if these two things are not at hand. Pathetic, no? Funny, yes?
  
  
• I'm very much a perfectionist when it comes to writing, and I'm well aware that my writing skills are not nearly at the level that I ultimately wish them to be. I picked up a very good English grammar reference book sometime last summer and I intend to actually read through the whole thing (all-or-nothing, remember?). I feel as though good writing skills are nothing short of essential, particularly for people who are required to write as part of their careers. I view my writing as a true reflection of my ability, intelligence, and desire to produce works of reputable quality. In related news, I was driving on 75 the other day when a random thought entered my head: 'Did I misspell the word gentlemen in the context of my Kitteh post?!' For some reason, I thought I had spelled it with an a instead of an e, and it took everything in my power to not call one of my buddies and have him check it out immediately. Restraint, restraint....
  
  
• Index cards have always been a favorite organizational and educational tool of mine. Lately, I've taken a liking to colored cards (pastels and neons, yay). When I begin Intermediate Greek in the fall, I'm going to use one particular color for every chapter in the book; this will be really exciting for me. I'm immensely bothered by the fact that my index cards from last year often include two or three different colors of cards for every chapter. What in the world was I thinking? Sigh...

Anyone who actually reads this post now perhaps thinks I'm a little nutty; that's okay, I accepted that a long time ago. Enemies and assholes now possess new knowledge about how to make my life more difficult--I better guard my rulers and corrector tapes from now on. Oh well. The picture from the top, by the way, is part of a drawing I did for a geometry class during my sophomore year of high school. See, I always loved rulers!

One more note: I have the perfect topic for my next blog post, and it relates to a PDF document that I found on my old laptop. I won't disclose too much about it at this point other than to say that these 45 pages of unintended entertainment had me laughing quite hysterically for several minutes. It will take some time for me to scan through the whole thing and pick out the best material for a blog post. Get ready!

I've Alwayz Liked Kittehs: Kittehs R Better Than Most Hoomans!

I came across this picture a few weeks ago when, in a successful attempt to prolong my weekend and temporarily forget about Medieval Law paper #2 that had been looming over my head during days prior, I decided to rummage through my old photo box and scan some images onto my computer. This was one of only two or three pictures that were from my very early years; most were from high school and my first two years of college.

This photograph makes me smile for a few reasons: first, my outfit is hysterical, but rather cute, I suppose (turtlenecks were a favorite of mine, apparently); secondly, the cat that I'm petting in the picture belonged to my grandmother, who lived next door to me when I lived in Pikeville, and she was very fond of this calico cat named Patches; lastly, although I don't remember the photo being taken, I remember many things about the house that I lived in at the time, including the front deck and the slight amount of landscaping around it. My haircut was just funny-looking.

On a related note, although I've had minimal exposure to small children during my lifetime and tend to shy away from kids in general, I've always taken note of the carefree attitude that most children exhibit, and I think it's entertaining to observe. Many children seem fascinated by the smallest things and are eager to absorb knowledge about everything around them. I sometimes wish I were still that easily entertained and enthusiastic about life in general. My adult years have made me really appreciate my carefree childhood days of shaggy hair and turtlenecks; if only I could rekindle that youthful zeal for knowledge and apply it to my neglected Latin and Greek studies, perhaps I could successfully complete my upcoming semester without having a mental breakdown. A girl can wish, right?

I've had trouble thinking of a particular topic to write about, so I'm just going to ramble a little bit about various things on my mind. Maybe I'll elaborate upon one of the following points in a future post, dependent upon what my devoted readers (all five of you) have to say.

• I'm already very nervous about the upcoming semester. I'll be in third semester Greek, which shouldn't be too bad, but I'll also be in Latin Lit and/or Latin Prose. I think many people overestimate my fondness for Latin; it used to excite me, but I enjoy Greek so much more at this point that it has been very difficult to get my Latin back to any sort of reading fluency. I need to remedy this by the third week of August or so. Wonderful. On top of all this, I'll be working for my mother part-time, retaking the LSAT (screw you, June test) in September, and trying to fit in the GRE somewhere in the midst of the insanity. I just want to get the hell out of undergrad--I'm sick of it and irritated that I'm not already in graduate school.

• Career anxiety, round 3849427: although I've taken the LSAT, I have not decided 100% upon attending law school. I do not want to give up Classics completely; I'm trying to locate universities that could possibly work with me to set up a 4-year J.D./M.A. degree, which would be amazing. Duke is the only school that I know of in this region that directly offers a joint J.D./M.A in Classics, and I'm not exactly expecting to get into Duke. I've been told that I would hate it anyway.

• I've been having bouts of depression lately, which terrifies me. I've done so much to repair the damage done during my year-long depression while a junior at UK; I even got a 4.0 last semester. Regardless, by the final weeks of last semester, I felt like I was slipping back into that black place which I'll occasionally go for days or even weeks at a time. I've got some ideas as to why my melancholy state of mind returned at a most inopportune time, but those are wholly unnecessary to elaborate. I'll only say the following: I've accepted the fact that on-and-off depression is a problem that I'll probably have to deal with for many years, and I'll handle it as best I know how. I've also learned that I need to be more careful about whom I let into my life, as jerks who hurt my feelings can apparently trigger a lot of intense sadness for me. I often wish I were one of those rather ridiculous-sounding people who seem to radiate sunshine from every bodily orifice and who know no sadness. Then I remember that these "lucky" individuals are usually too delusional about the unfortunate realities of life, in my opinion. I think I'd rather stay occasionally depressed and chuckle at people who are blissfully ignorant and who tend to take their personal unfamiliarity with mental health issues for granted.

• As of late, I have really valued my alone time. Although I enjoy socializing every now and then, I tend to be pretty insular. This is actually a quality I've had for years. I've gotten into the habit of avoiding places that are insanely crowded. Walks have occupied a lot of my time lately; I took a 6-mile walk around the campus area this week when looking for a new apartment, and I really enjoyed myself. It was the perfect opportunity for me to sort out some issues in my head while taking advantage of a beautiful, sunny day (Lexington has seen too much rain lately). Now, if only I could learn how to glare at strangers in coffee shops so as to let them know that I am not interested in chatting about inconsequential things such as their "sick" freestyle rap ability or their night job as a part-time male exotic dancer. ...Ladies and gentlemen, we have a new blog topic, perhaps...

Can't We All Just Learn How to Drive?

I've been wanting to vent about horrible Lexington drivers (and drivers in general) for some time now. Why? First of all, I've lived here for 5 years, which has been a sufficient amount of time to familiarize myself with typical traffic conditions in many parts of town; I'm not just going to make a sweeping negative statement about Lexington drivers based solely on a particular area of the city or on limited driving exposure to the place in general. Secondly, although I really enjoy walking whenever I can, I still have to drive pretty much everyday; the frustrations involved with encountering terrible drivers cannot simply be avoided by my choosing to not use my vehicle. Lastly, my increasing impatience with those who can't seem to follow basic rules of the road or even properly operate an automobile seems to coincide partly with my decreasing tolerance for morons and all things asinine.

Is there any good way to organize a topic so broad in scope? I think I'll go with annoying tendencies of drivers and the stupid things that they do in general:

• Driving significantly under the speed limit or 30 MPH over the speed limit. Unless it's raining, snowing, or you're driving on a spare tire while trying to "share the road" with the biker who's oblivious to the fact that he's pretty much in the middle of the street, please drive at least the speed limit. I promise, you'll be okay. There's no good reason to slow the pace of traffic around you just because you're preoccupied with chattering away on your cell phone or because you're savoring the taste of that Whopper you just picked up through the drive-thru. Alternately, don't drive so fast that you put everyone within half a mile at risk for injury should you lose control of your vehicle. The fact that your car can indeed reach 90 MPH in a busy 55 MPH zone does not impress me; rather, it reveals to me that you're a jackass who has no problem endangering yourself and other people. Lexington in particular is not the best place to attempt to simulate the races in The Fast and the Furious. Sorry.
  
  
• Delayed responses to green lights. When you're sitting at a stoplight and the light turns green, it would be fantastic if you move your car quickly. Do this or face the wrath of many angry drivers behind you (that is, if they're even paying attention) via their blaring horns. I don't want to know how much time I've wasted at lights simply because cars in front of me have not responded quickly enough to green lights.
  
  
• Driving like an asshole. Okay, this one's kind of a catchall and could include both of the points mentioned above. It also includes the following: tailgating; slamming on your brakes for no apparent reason, thereby causing all the cars behind you to do the same; making very sudden turns or lane changes; not using your signals (it takes so much effort, after all); driving with your music turned up so loud that everyone within a mile radius can feel the vibrations; assuming the "cocky douche" position while driving (seat back as far as possible, right arm or left arm completely extended and holding the steering wheel while the other arm is nowhere to be found--usually accompanied by obnoxiously loud music and popped collars or other ridiculous "fashion" statements); texting or talking on your cell phone so much that you don't realize you're driving 20mph in a 40mph zone... the list goes on and on.
  
  
• Issue whores and those who feel the need to let other drivers know personal information such as their own names and family members' names via their automobiles. No. First of all, what's an issue whore, anyway? Thanks for asking. An issue whore is an individual who very enthusiastically informs those [unfortunate] drivers who end up behind them in traffic that they feel a certain way about political issues or politicians. "Marriage = A Man + A Woman." "I'm Already Against the Next War." "Sarah!" "Make Love, Not War." "NUKE 'EM ALL!" ....etc., etc. News flash: I don't care. A person is certainly entitled to his or her own opinion, but it baffles me that people feel the need to publicize these opinions by means of their vehicles. If you feel so strongly about a cause, why don't you go to a political rally or a peaceful protest or a violent demonstration or.... you get my point. Secondly, displaying your own name or your children's names on your vehicles makes no sense at all, and could even be a little dangerous. The immediate image that comes to my mind is the stick-figure decal on the back of some random car that includes all of the driver's family members along with their names underneath. Do you really want the world to know your 8-year-old daughter's name? Do you want to advertise the fact that young children live in your household? You may as well put up a neon sign in your yard that says, "Children Are Here--Pedophiles Welcome." Even if you don't have kids, why would you want to display your name on your car anyway? "Hey, that's Megan's truck. How many Megans are in Lexington?" Maybe I'm being too negative here, but I just always thought of a car as being a practical means of getting a driver to and from certain places; I have never considered an automobile to be a fast, shiny, overpriced thing manufactured primarily so that its owner can let others know his or her views on abortion or that they have three kids and two pets.

I was originally going to pick certain bad traffic spots in Lexington and complain about that, but I think this much will suffice. Discussing bad drivers is, in my opinion, kind of cliche anyway. It doesn't matter; I have a post, and this one has sparked an idea for something new!

The Trial of Joan of Arc

Since I promised my readers that I would occasionally post something of some substance, I decided to go ahead and add this to my blog before I publish my next post, which will surely be a bit more entertaining than this. What follows is the last paper that I wrote for my Medieval Law class. I've had an interesting experience with this paper; I have loved it one minute and hated it the next. It's often very hard for me to judge the quality of my own writing, and this paper is certainly no exception. Anyway, I only had two main sources for this paper: a translation of The Trial of Joan of Arc along with a scholarly article pertaining to some of the more controversial aspects of the trial. I enjoyed reading both of these, and if you're interested in them, they're cited all over the place in the footnotes for this paper. One more thing: although I'm posting this paper on the "intrawebs," that doesn't mean that I would want anybody to do something stupid like plagiarize. If anyone does this, I will hunt the person down and burn him or her at the stake. I loathe academic cheaters. If I ever become a professor, I will be the plagiarizers' worst nightmare. On to the paper...happy reading.


In 1431, while France was still under English rule, Joan of Arc was tried before an ecclesiastical court for crimes committed contrary to divine, canon and civil law. The notoriety of her deeds was widespread both in France and abroad: Joan, armed with men provided by the French king Charles VII, had lifted the English siege at Orléans on May 8, 1429, in a spectacular turn of events. More victories followed for Joan, and eventually Charles VII was crowned king at Reims Cathedral on July 17 in the same year. Unfortunately for Joan, who considered herself divinely commanded by God to expel the English from France, her string of victories came to an end when she launched an ultimately unsuccessful attack upon Paris. She was captured outside the walls of Compiègne on May 23, 1430. There ensued a custody battle for Joan between the Duke of Burgundy and the vice-inquisitor of France; although she was a prisoner of war, she was also accused of heresy, which resulted in the ecclesiastical authorities claiming a legitimate interest in her prosecution. Joan was captured within the diocese of Bishop Pierre Cauchon, thus Cauchon was to have jurisdiction over the infamous trial along with the Inquisitor of France.

The trial record was one of the most complete of its time, given that the church authorities who eventually prosecuted Joan recognized the need for a thorough transcript of the proceedings; this was no ordinary case, and these were no light accusations. When examined from the standpoint of the inquisitorial trial procedure set forth in the 13th century, the trial involved some significant violations of juridical conduct, some of which even Joan herself seemed to be vaguely aware of. Despite this fact, one can easily see that ecclesiastics offered Joan her only real hope of avoiding death.

Joan of Arc’s trial was a heresy investigation carried out under a legal procedure known in canon law as inquisition. Rather than a prosecuting attorney bringing charges against a defendant, an inquisition involved the judge himself bringing charges against the accused after he had observed certain other steps in the trial:

The essential feature of inquisition was that the accusation against the defendant came in the form of a public outcry or general belief that the accused had committed a crime. Unlike the earlier procedure of “accusation,” in which one or more persons functioned as the accuser, in an inquisition the accuser was the outcry itself. Once infamy had been established—this is, the existence of public outrage—the bishop or ecclesiastical judge could summon the defendant and investigate the truth of the accusations. The judge was to present the defendant with a list of charges in the form of chapter or articles. The judge could then require the defendant to swear an oath to tell the truth.[1]

At first glance, the trial record of Joan of Arc seems to indicate that the main judge, Bishop Cauchon, followed this correct procedure in his prosecution of Joan: by the end of all the proceedings, Joan had indeed been presented with the formal charges for which she was being tried; her infamy had been ‘established’; she had been offered counsel; and she had sworn numerous oaths. Upon closer examination, however, it becomes apparent that certain aspects of these procedures, particularly the order in which they were followed, were questionable. Perhaps these controversial elements of the trial would not be as significant if it were not for the fact that they actually strengthened the prosecution’s case against Joan.

One of the hotly debated issues surrounding the trial’s proceedings was the fact that Joan was not presented with formal charges until after she was extensively questioned by the ecclesiastical authorities. Moreover, the very manner in which the charges were drafted was open to question. According to the inquisitorial procedure set up in 1215 by Pope Innocent III at the Fourth Lateran Council, charges were to be generated largely on the basis of pre-trial investigation. This research was to be undertaken by the judge or his associates:

The pope envisaged that a judge would first be alerted by reports from afar and then go to the scene of the crime to see for himself. He modeled this procedure of “general inquisition” on Genesis 18.21, where God says of Sodom and Gomorrah, “I will go down and see whether they have done according to the cry that is come to me.”[2]

Rather than deriving the articles from an initial inquest, it was primarily from unconfirmed hearsay in addition to statements made by Joan herself subsequent to the trial’s commencement that the charges were eventually drafted by the court. All seventy of these charges were finally announced to Joan weeks after she had first been questioned. This substantial lapse in time between Joan’s summons and her receiving of formal charges was also contrary to Innocent III’s system, which required that the judge’s first obligation, when implicated persons were summoned to his court, was to give them, in writing, detailed points (chapters, or articles) of the charges against them and to explain the charges, thereby enabling them to defend themselves.[3]

Medieval canonical rules of due process required a judge to follow all the correct preliminary trial procedures. A defendant had the right to remain silent before being formally charged. If the judge proceeded unlawfully, a defendant could declare himself or herself aggrieved and enter an immediate appeal. This was particularly important for cases involving heresy, as one could be convicted not only for confessing a previously committed crime but also for expressing a belief that could be taken as a brand-new crime of false belief; it would become instantly notorious and require no further proof simply by being uttered in court.[4] Given the circumstances surrounding Joan’s case, it would seem as if Cauchon might have intentionally postponed giving the formal charges in order to trick Joan early into making heretical statements that otherwise would never have been included in the articles written against her later.

No articles were presented to Joan during her first court appearance, and she did not immediately make any sort of appeal on the basis of their absence. Procedurally, Cauchon seemed only to be concerned with requiring Joan to take an oath before the court, but he encountered reluctance. When Cauchon asked Joan to “swear to tell the truth about the things we ask you that concern the faith, and that you know,”[5] Joan replied that she would willingly tell those things which pertained to her mother and father and her activities in France. But she added that she would absolutely not disclose her revelations from God, even under pain of death. Cauchon’s oath,

much like the illegal oath of the heresy inquisitors, would undoubtedly have been enough to trap her into making dubious doctrinal statements, for instance about the precise meaning of her everyday prayers. But when Cauchon had quickly worked his way through questions about her parents and home and came to ask her to recite the Pasternoster and Ave Maria, she stymied him by saying that she would recite them only in confession. She thus showed that she was able to distinguish between the internal and external forums of the church.[6]

Evidently, Joan was aware that she could imperil her own situation by answering truthfully and unconditionally to every question asked by the court, and so she often withheld information. Her usual method of refusing to answer a question was to say, “Pass on,” as when she was asked whether she received the Eucharist at any other feasts other than Easter.[7] This wise and cautious attitude on Joan’s part proved to be persistent throughout the majority of the trial. She certainly did not divert all the potential damage of her own words, however, as proven later in many of the articles.

The problematic juridical procedures involved in the trial of Joan of Arc were thoroughly discussed and debated long after her death, but they did not go completely unnoticed and unquestioned during the trial itself. This is slightly surprising, given the fact that the trial was very politically charged; it was certainly not free from the influence of the English, who wished to see Joan prosecuted for challenging English claims in France. Regardless, a highly respected canonist of the day named John Lohier considered the proceedings to hold no validity:

Lohier objected that the trial lacked the form of an ordinary process; that it was held under constraint, so that the assessors were not really free to make unbiased decisions; that, though it dealt with the honor of the king of France, no one from that quarter had a voice in the trial; that no libellus or articles had been submitted; and that no counsel had been provided to the defendant, who was a simple girl, to help her respond to questions posed by learned masters and doctors on difficult subjects.[8]

William Manchon, a notary in the case, stated that Bishop Cauchon clearly believed that his handling of the trial up to the point of Lohier’s criticism had been flawless; Cauchon was therefore very annoyed by the negative criticisms from the canonist.

Cauchon made it known that, despite Lohier’s objections, he wished to proceed with the trial as it had begun. Despite this sentiment, the bishop’s actions would suggest otherwise, as he made some significant trial modifications; out of these procedural alterations came forth the long-overdue articles which were finally read to Joan weeks after she first arrived in Rouen. Cauchon remedied Lohier’s main objection to the lack of formal charges in the following way:

He professed to be opening a new phase of the trial: what had proceeded, he said, was an ex officio preparatory process; now he was opening an “ordinary process,” in which the promoter would present against Joan certain articles that Cauchon had ordered to be compiled.[9]

After Joan had responded to these seventy articles brought against her, Cauchon had them reduced in number to only twelve; these were sent to faculty members at the University of Paris for a formal opinion. Also, after Lohier’s feedback, Cauchon did indeed offer Joan counsel from among any of the assessors she wished to choose. She declined the offer, stating that she did not wish to abandon the counsel of the Lord himself. One can easily see from this evidence how Cauchon could legitimately claim that he had followed correct procedure; it is only under intense scrutiny that the trial proceedings fall into debate, namely in regards to the timing of the presentation of articles.

Some recent scholarship has suggested that the delaying of the presentation of articles was not intentionally overlooked by Cauchon, who in his ecclesiastical career was otherwise very meticulous in terms of proper procedure. In the bishop's defense, H. Ansgar Kelly argued that abuses in the inquisitorial system had taken place for so long by the time of Joan’s trial that to postpone (or neglect altogether) the writing of formal charges could not be labeled a perversion of law; evidence suggests that this was a commonplace practice among judges of the time. The general lack of procedural criticism during the trial itself led Daniel Hobbins to make the following suggestion: If contemporaries did not consider it a trespass not to present the articles at the beginning of the trial, then the problem seems one of our own making.[10] In light of this information, whether or not it was incorrect trial procedure to suspend the writing of formal charges becomes debatable; what is not so uncertain is the notion that this action had negative ramifications for Joan, who ended up providing more damning ammunition for the prosecution’s case during Bishop Cauchon’s aptly labeled ‘ex-officio preparatory process.’

When the ecclesiastical trial is examined in a much larger context, however, it becomes clear that these procedural errors, although significant, did in no way seal Joan’s fate. In fact, from the very beginning, this trial was Joan’s only real hope of evading death. The English authorities had handed Joan over to Bishop Cauchon upon the condition that she be convicted; if not, she would be returned to the English for prosecution. Considering that Joan’s ecclesiastical trial was conducted in France under undeniably biased conditions and within a highly-charged atmosphere, a trial by secular authorities in England would have only been even less conducive to proper procedure. Her English adversaries could in fact have put Joan to death without a trial.

It is obvious from the trial record that many of the law experts and theologians involved in the case earnestly wished for Joan to recant her heretical statements. Near the end of the trial, some faculty members at the University of Paris sent Bishop Cauchon a formal opinion regarding the revised twelve articles against Joan. This statement, which found her to be largely at fault, was read to Joan by a certain doctor. After this, the same doctor read a long letter to Joan that included a lengthy exhortation to abandon those beliefs that had caused her to stray so far from the Church militant:

…I warn, pray and entreat you by your devotion to the Passion of your creator, and by the love you bear for your body and soul, correct and amend all these things and come back to the path of the truth by obeying the Church and by submitting to its judgment and decision. By doing so, you will save your soul and, I believe, redeem your body from death. But if you do not, and should you persist, know that your soul will be utterly damned; your body, I fear, will also be destroyed. May Jesus Christ keep you from such a fate.[11]

Exhortations such as these were repeatedly made to Joan. Perhaps they were not undertaken completely in vain; during her first sentencing, Joan interrupted its reading in order to sign a formal abjuration. The ecclesiastics seemed to be genuinely elated that she had chosen to return to the “path of truth.” Joan would still face perpetual imprisonment under the Church’s supervision, but church authorities could also alter the verdict at any point. A punishment of life in prison proved that Cauchon and his associates were not solely concerned with seeing Joan killed for her heretical crimes. For a short period of time, in fact, it looked as if the Church had indeed spared her life, which was a truly miraculous thing when one considers the circumstances of the trial.

Only days after her abjuration was signed, Joan made it invalid when she donned men’s clothing once more and told certain ecclesiastics that she had abjured in error; in doing these things, Joan sealed her own fate. She was declared a lapsed heretic, handed over to the secular authorities, and burned at the stake for her crimes. The trial of Joan of Arc, despite its controversial proceedings, can still be viewed as a legitimate effort on behalf of the Church to spare Joan’s life. Had she not lapsed, Joan would have spent the remainder of her days living under church supervision; instead, she was killed at the hands of the English people whom she so vehemently detested.

[1] The Trial of Joan of Arc, trans. Daniel Hobbins (Cambridge: Harvard UP, 2005), 16.
[2] H Ansgar Kelly, “The Right to Remain Silent: Before and After Joan of Arc,” Speculum 68 (1993): 995.
[3] H. Ansgar Kelly, “The Right to Remain Silent: Before and After Joan of Arc,” Speculum 68 (1993): 995.
[4] Ibid., p. 994.
[5] The Trial of Joan of Arc, trans. Daniel Hobbins (Cambridge: Harvard UP, 2005), 49.
[6] H. Ansgar Kelly, “The Right to Remain Silent: Before and After Joan of Arc,” Speculum 68 (1993): 1014.
[7] Ibid., p. 1015.
[8] H. Ansgar Kelly, “The Right to Remain Silent: Before and After Joan of Arc,” Speculum 68 (1993): 1018.
[9] Ibid., p. 1020.
[10] The Trial of Joan of Arc, trans. Daniel Hobbins (Cambridge: Harvard UP, 2005), 23.
[11] The Trial of Joan of Arc, trans. Daniel Hobbins (Cambridge: Harvard UP, 2005), 189.

I Haz a Post... Will Dis Hungry Panda Eatz It?!

For whatever reason, I've decided to start writing in my un-emo blog yet again. Since my account had been inactive for about two years, I guessed that all of my blogs were probably long gone. Out of sheer boredom, I checked to see if they were still up; I was rather surprised to discover that they were.

I have actually spent part of the last week or so going back through many of my old posts and revising them a little bit. Typos bother me almost more than anything in the world; unfortunately, I found them to be pretty prevalent in my old writings. Yes, my corrections were probably a huge waste of time, considering I doubt very seriously that anyone would actually take much notice of a typo here and there. Regardless, if it's my writing, I want it to be free of errors. Maybe I'm just a weirdo. I'm much the same with papers I write for my college courses. If I find a typo in a paper, even if I've already turned it in, I'll go back and fix the error in the saved document on my computer. Okay, I'm definitely a weirdo.

Some things you may or may not care about:

• I have two other blogs, but only one of them is worth taking a look at: Journal/Journey Project 333, which I wrote to earn one credit hour (yeah) through the Honors Program back during the '06-'07 academic year. Coincidentally, this was also my horrible year in college, but I still managed to earn at least the one credit hour for writing that blog. Hooray. The Book Blog, the other one, was kind of an epic fail. I read many books the same summer I started writing the blog, but I only wrote about two of them. If you've ever read Animal Farm or The Reader (a horrible book, in my opinion), then you won't be missing out by not looking at the blog. Sadly, when I came back to class, I discovered that I didn't necessarily feel like blogging about books that I'd read for courses, particularly because I had to write papers on most of these books. To write a 10-page paper on a book and then immediately turn around and blog about it seems a little much for me.
• As far as post topics for this blog, there's only going to be one obvious restriction: no emo material. I do tend to go on random rants (those are everywhere in my earlier posts), and I'm sure I'll write plenty of those in the upcoming weeks. However, since the Journal/Journey Project blog won't be updated anymore, I'll probably use this blog to occasionally post something of some substance.
• I've enabled anonymous posts. I like for people who don't have Blogger accounts to still be able to give me feedback if they wish. However, the first time any jackass makes an immature comment, this will change.
• Along the same lines: if you don't like me, please don't read my blog; I promise you, you will only dislike me more after you read what I have to say.
• I'm taking the LSAT on June 8th, so my posts will probably be very limited until that time. Speaking of the LSAT, I should be studying. I certainly picked the worst month of the year to take this test.

Enjoy!

Mox Redibo!

After more than a two-year hiatus, the un-emo blog is back! I'm currently tweaking some old posts and writing the draft for my first new post. It will definitely be up within the next few days, so be patient. This is pretty exciting.