Well! It finally happened, in the fourth week of classes -- I got called on. Contracts. Something about the doctrine of promissory estoppel not being applicable because businesses don't deal in promises, they deal in offers. Yeah, I don't understand it either. I got the first part right, and then the prof asked me something that I had no idea how to answer, so he kindly didn't press me and just asked the guy next to me what he thought.

There are fishers of men and fishers of answers, and my Contracts prof is one of the latter -- we play the "Read My Mind" game in the class sometimes. Sometimes he presses the person, but more often he'll just move on.

I'm fond of my Contracts prof because he's amusing and a little strange, and yells out things like "Can I get a witness?!!" when no one volunteers to answer one of his rhetorical questions. He'll stop the class to take a poll on whether women really think that there's an assumption that a man will pay for dinner if the man asks a woman out, or to discuss the correct pronunciation of "Manolo Blahnik" (he was, hilariously, pronouncing it "MaNOlo [correct] BlaNEEK [so, so incorrect]").

There's a lot of criticism of him as a teacher: he makes you read his mind, he sometimes doesn't review cases before class and so makes one of the students go over all the facts of a case (which are not that important), he cancels class 10 minutes before class. But I like the guy.

Perhaps that's why I shot the ole hk grin at him this past Friday when we passed each other in the street, and sang out, "Hello, Professor --!" And perhaps that's why he bore down on me in class today when he's never called on me before.

Or perhaps I'm overestimating my memorableness and charming smile by a couple light years.

Or it could have been Make the Silent Asian Girls Speak Day, since another sista got called on for the first time today.

Or it just could have been my turn to wilt in the headlights, heart going faster than a mouse hedged into a corner by a bespectacled, erudite cat.

In any case, after my heartrate went back to normal, I was surprised at how unfazed I was at the whole thing. I congratulated a fellow classmate for getting the biggest laugh of the class when, upon being asked what a subcontractor would say if their general contractor didn't get his bid, leaned in close to her microphone (yes, some classrooms have mics for all the seats) and said in a charming Eastern European accent, "I don't care." I was rather pleased and grateful when someone in my Civil Procedure class told me that he'd been nodding in agreement when I spoke in class and was unpleasantly surprised (but not as much as me!) when the prof asked someone else for the right answer. (We agreed that I'd been about 2 sentences further along in the opinion than the prof wanted me to be.)

Oh dear -- 3:30 am. The memo I've just written for tomorrow morning is the pits. But as Emily, my college freshman counselor said, "Good is good, but done is better." I try to live by those words. And so anon -- to bed, to bed, to bed.