What gets lost in the shuffle of final exams

In the last four days of intense study for my next exam, I have resigned myself to the fact that my Crim Pro II final will be a bloodbath. On that note, you really shouldn't judge my wandering mind too harshly...

http://kalman.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/04/23/may-it-please-the-court/

That time for the last time

This week started out like any other. Except this week is not like all the rest. As one friend put it, "I feel as though, if my life called, I could actually say 'See you soon!'" I share the sentiment. Three more days. Just three. That breaks down to 5 class periods, 6 academic hours, 360 minutes. And strangely enough, this is all I can think about. Not the fact that I have three exams to contend with, even though, as the archives of this blog indicate, exams are usually a knock down, drag out stressfest for me. But not this time. For some reason, the only thing pervading my consciousness right now is the reality that my academic career is finally, finally, finally nearing its end. In all honesty, it doesn't quite seem real. After all, I'm sitting here in the library, at the same table where I've sat for three years. There are textbooks in front of me, demanding to be read. There are frazzled students around me chugging Red Bull and frantically scribbling notes in their outlines. It's just business as usual in these, the waning days of the semester. But I can't ignore the light. The light that began as a small pinpoint in the darkness which has grown to a blinding sun. The light at the end of this hopelessly long tunnel. I keep thinking back, way back to the days just before this undertaking, and I am overwhelmed at how audacious, how naive I was...



August 11, 2006: In the few short months since graduation, so much has changed, and again I'm going to be shaking things up when I move to Oregon to start law school. Am I ready for this? Am I ready to move to a new state where I know exactly no one, live with a complete stranger, and begin my pursuit of higher, higher education? I sure hope so, because it's a little late to turn back now. This entire experience is quite schizophrenic. I'm excited for a new adventure. I've been unbelievably complacent with just about everything this year. School wasn't too much of a challenge, life has been relatively easy, and I think it's time to test my limits again. At the same time, things are insane. With Scott, and getting engaged, and moving, and trying to figure out if it will be possible to be a 1L and plan a wedding without losing my mind, life has been pretty hectic. I make no secret of the fact that I am a stress magnet. If the situation has even the remote potential of being stressful, it will be to me. I can only hope I take to law school like I have to college. I love to learn, and I'm competitive enough to get the job done, but I'm scared because I don't know what's going to happen. You never hear anyone say how great law school is; how much fun they had. The stories sound like prisoners of war survival stories. Will I be able to thrive in such an environment? This has been my dream since I was ten, and those of you who know me know I have acute tunnel vision and I won't be happy until I've crossed it off my list. I like to be in control of every aspect of my life and normally I am, but when I feel like I'm not, I go a little nuts. I fully expect to be going a little nuts in the weeks and months to come, but on the mission I learned that if you don't ask, the answer is already no. If I don't do this, I've already failed. So bring on tomorrow with all its challenges, surprises, and adventures. I'm ready.



All I can do is laugh at that girl. She wasn't ready. She didn't want this. She had no idea. But that doesn't really matter now, because it's all over. The misery, the hopelessness, the sleep deprivation, the frustration, the hardened cynicism. And only elation of impossible accomplishment remains.

Shoulda been a slacker

I'm supposed to be editing a paper. But as I stare at my own words on paper and compare them to the comments my professor has written, I can't help but think, "I really shouldn't have put so much work into my first draft." Last year I wrote a paper on juvenile life imprisonment in the context of the Roper v. Simmons holding and made the argument that a prohibition on such life sentences should be a logical outgrowth of the Supreme Court's recent decisions. When I wrote that paper, I put a crazy amount of work into it, handed in my first draft, and the professor said it was so good I didn't need to make any changes to it. At the time, I thought that was odd, but I didn't complain. Who needs more work to rain down on them right at the end of the semester? I'm not entirely sure why I expected lightning to strike twice. This year my paper is on the dual sovereignty exception to the prohibition on successive prosecutions, and again, I put a crazy amount of work into my first draft. Therein lies my mistake. As I sit here trying to figure out how to improve on what I've already written, I find myself utterly unwilling to expend the necessary effort. My ideas have already taken shape and I don't want to change them, and I sure as heck don't want to add to them!! Not to mention my annoyance at having to renumber my foot notes. But that's the problem with turning in a reasonably well developed paper as a "rough draft." When you turn it into a professor who actually bothers to read and think about what you've said, he is inevitably going to come up with things you can change. If I had been a smart person, I would have turned in a craptastic rough draft, so that any changes I made to it would seem drastic and well-reasoned by comparison. Why didn't I do that? I think the only answer is one best said in a monotone drone and accompanied by a blank stare. "Post spring break 3L." So, who wants to edit this thing for me?