a most amiable post

I love Regency romances. I would call them my guilty pleasure, but in fact I am quite pleased with myself for reading them; they are my non-guilty, unabashed, enthusiastic pleasure to read and, for that matter, to force upon my friends.

I just read a LOT of them in a row, though – nine of them, in fact* – and even for me, that is a bit much. After a while, the plots, characters, and tormented pasts start to blend together.** You can sum them up pretty much like this:

First, there is The Hero: A rugged outdoorsman and whip (good with horses (?) ) with a dark past. Though he may seem stern or cruel to outsiders, he is kind to his many servants and a dab hand at running his estates.

The ladies love him but he isn't interested in commitment... until he meets...

The Heroine: A genteel lady with fine eyes and sparkling wit. Possibly from a poor or eccentric family. The hero is dazzled by her abundant... er... charms.

True love ensues. Well, the odd tryst or two in a pantry or wardrobe ensues, but they usually figure out true love in there somewhere.

HEROINE: "You show your kind heart only to me. To others you are as fierce and strong as a bear!"

HERO: "Your bosoms are magnificent. Like soft, warm cantaloupes."

Anyway, I now have an almost constant urge to say "La!" and "amiable" and "sprigged muslin." In short, I have to move onto something else. For at least a week. Something that never ventures towards melodrama, purple prose, or overblown characters.

Just kidding! I'm reading Faulkner. :D

Fondly,

Lady Napkin-Doodler

*One Dance with a Duke, Goddess of the Hunt, and Surrender of a Siren, all by Tessa Dare; The Grand Sophy, Cotillion, April Lady, and Friday's Child by Georgette Heyer; Lord of Scoundrels by Loretta Chase, and To Sir Philip with Love by Julia Quinn. I loved them all. You should read them, although maybe not all of them at once. Not unless you have a LOT of chocolate on hand, anyway.

** The exception to this rule is Cotillion by Georgette Heyer. The hero of Cotillion is Freddy, who doesn't get worked up about much... except fashion, which he loves. It's also the only thing he thinks he's any good at; he's the first to admit he's not that bright. Funny how he seems to end up solving everyone else's problems....

this is what happens when a napkin doodler goes on vacation

Last month I went on vacation for the first time ever--no, wait, that's not right. Since law school started, I mean. Which felt like forever. But, technically, I'm told, was not.

Anyway.

Last month I went to the beach. I like beaches, but I don't swim. So, I read some novels, and I doodled a bit in a proper sketchbook for once, and THEN I realized I could be doodling in a completely non-proper sketchbook!

Sand! To make things with sand! How fantastical and full of wonder I was. All the little kids were totally jealous. All the adults were slightly creeped out.

Speaking of which, I swear I'm working on her shoulder in that picture.

Here she is mildly finished.

She's not dead, she's communing with starfish. See? Don't you ever commune with a freaking starfish? You should. Stop communing with jellyfish. That's just weird. Also, jellyfish hate you and want you to die. I should know this, I lived in Florida for four years. Although, in the jellyfishes' defense, MOST native Florida critters hate people and want us all to die, or to cover ourselves in raspberry jam so we can be better nibbled to death.

Speaking of vengeful animals, I next moved onto this:

I wanted him to be a fire-breathing dragon, and I tried to make fire out of sand, but I don't think that's a thing, or if it is, you end up with glass.

Here he is again:

I think I had already stepped on his feet at this point. Which is always bad, right? I hate it when people step on my feet. But it is infinitely worse when you're made of sand, because then you have NO FEET LEFT AT ALL. :(

Photos by my lovely fiance, who has feet, even though I step on his all the time (on purpose, obviously).

this is what my life is like on a daily basis

It's not easy to describe preparing for the bar exam. Even in a good economy, it’s sort of like combining the SATs, every SAT II ever conceived out of the wildest dreams of sadists and biology enthusiasts, the LSATs—actually a couple of LSATs, all with conflicting directions—and rolling them all up into one dastardly whole. No, wait, actually it's worse than that. It's sort of like if you took a scorpion tail, and made it bigger, and attached it to a lion's body, but stronger... No. Worse than that, too. See the problem here? Mere words cannot describe it.

Let me attempt to show you my feelings over the course of any given half hour:

First: Guilt!

"Are you studying? You're doodling again, aren't you?"

Second: Sadness!

I will suffocate to death alone and friendless in my apartment for no reason except that I am SUCH A FAILURE DEAR GOD WHY. Also I got eyeliner on my sad clown outfit. :'( (No, really, I did. Unfortunately purple eyeliner is not an effective doodling device.)

Third: Rare flashes of competence!

Blogger won't let me upload another picture here for some reason so here's this instead:

You're welcome.

Fourth: Boredom!

Much to my fiance's relief, I am slowly going through my highlighter collection. But there was a time when I could have done ridiculous pretend Chinese brush paintings in more colors than the rainbow. WAY more. Fuck rainbows.

Fifth: We must plug onwards. I can't think of a pithy word for that. "Persistence" sounds too optimistic. Hmm. I think I'll go with "Avast!" although to be honest I have no idea what "avast!" means except that pirates say it and it is awesome.

Oh--and sixth: Desire for amusing t-shirts. But that applies all the time, not just during bar prep.

I really wish that were a real show.

snarlbux

Click to see full size!

It's no secret that I have a pretty serious caffeine addiction. Let's put it this way: when I worked at Starbucks (I have worked at three), I usually invented at least five totally awesome drinks before you were even AWAKE. Seriously, they were TOTALLY AWESOME. I developed a pretty serious twitch at my third Starbucks actually, which was interesting when I was driving to work across those two old, narrow bridges. I figured I was fine as long as I could still pour most of the espresso shots into the cup instead of on my hand. Besides have you ever had a quad grande americano with two pumps of white mocha? Freaking delicious.

The problem is that I no longer work at Starbucks (though I'm sure I'll be back there soon enough; thanks economy!). I just study all the damn time in a coffee-obsessed town, which means that the lines are too long for me to get enough coffee and still show up to class on time. Well, when I say on time, I mean five to ten minutes late; I have NEVER, as a matter of principle, been on time to my bar prep class. But you get the drift.

I may or may not have spilled coffee on this doodle while doodling it. Or it could have been chocolate. Or both? :(

Let's see that face again, shall we!

compusauce, inc.

This happens to you guys sometimes, right? From time to time?

Such issues.

Also, Smart Bitches is a fantastic website about sassy ladies who read romance novels. Check it out, yo.

Edit: Click it to make it bigger. And see all my badly erased pencil marks. Hey I never claimed to be quality.

it's true you know

Hey dudes.

Sometimes it's like lawyers and non-lawyers speak a totally different language. Once, when I was still in law school (aye, those were the... well... whatever), a lawyer who specialized in bridging the communication gap between lawyers and non-lawyers came in to talk to us about trial strategy. "The thing is," he said, "lawyers tend to be analytical and objective, but most people, i.e. all those pesky nonlawyers who will be on your jury, are emotive and subjective."

"Of course!" said my brain. "Jurors! They emote!"

Since that fateful day I have channeled my more emotive tendencies into mildly deranged doodles. If you suffered through three years of law school, only to take your bar prep course during a really crappy recession, what would you do?

Draw Robin Hood in skimpy pantaloons. That's what you would do.

... Right?