Senioritis becomes me

To some, being a slacker is a skill that comes naturally. I have never fallen into that category. In high school, I was type-A about getting good grades so I could get into college. I blew that opportunity to really fully enjoy the malady that is senioritis. Ditto for college because I wanted to get into law school. But tell me, is there really any valid reason whatsoever to agonize over grades during your last semester ever? I think it's high time I caught the train to Slackerville. I keep telling myself that I'm not doing my reading assignments because my books are all still in transit. I think that's probably a half-truth, and lurking deeper is conscious rebellion. I could check out my textbooks from the library reserve and spend the next few hours dutifully preparing for the three classes I have tomorrow. Yeah, I could do that. I also could be reading for trial prep, which is the one class I have tonight, but the professor didn't post a first day assignment, so why would I do that? Instead I'm passing the time, getting a good laugh at Ann Coulter's expense, watching her disastrous turn on the Today Show and thinking, "How sweet would it be to be her attorney? I bet she's constantly defending slander and libel lawsuits; I'd pay off these loans in no time!" Yes, that's what I'm doing instead of reading. I'm watching videos, humming music from "Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog" and realizing that I previously had no concept of just how severe senioritis could really be.

Ambivalence

"The coexistence within an individual of positive and negative feelings toward the same person, object, or action, simultaneously drawing him or her in opposite directions."
School starts again on Monday. How is it possible that an entire month has passed already? I guess it wasn't much of a vacation considering I worked full time the entire "break." What can I say? Necessity trumps laziness. I should have spent today at the library completing first day reading assginments. My books haven't arrived yet because the booklist didn't get posted until two days ago. I'm going to be going to my classes on Monday unprepared for the first time in my law school career. I am surprisingly okay with that. If I get called on, I fully intend to announce that I would have been prepared, but the professor was too lazy to get the book selection to student services until the last possible second, so my lack of preparation is really his or her fault. I may or may not launch into a tirade about an insidious conspiracy between the law school and the bookstore to force students to spend outrageous amounts of money on books that can be purchased for half the price from online retailers. Grades came out a few days ago, mostly good news, with the exception of my Fed Tax grade. Darn, I guess I'm going to have to abandon my lifelong ambition of working for the IRS. Raise your hand if that one surprised you. Oh school. Enter the word of the day. I'm going through my time honored ritual of indulging in a pre-back-to-school panic attack. Why is this? Fully 19 of the 26 years I have been on this planet have been spent languishing in a classroom. I'm pretty much an expert student at this point, and still, I find myself rocking involuntarily at the thought of starting again at square one. I think it's the uncertainty of it all that is the most maddening. How am I going to balance work and school? When will I find the time to study? Why do I have to run yet another moot court competition? Will I be able subsist without sleep or food? Will I finally figure out a way to keep from infecting everyone around me with my insanity? These are all questions that have no answers, and they won't have answers for at least two more weeks. Generally that's how long it takes me to find my groove. In the meantime panic reigns. On the other hand, this is the last time I will experience this particular brand of anxiety. This semester looks surprisingly good. 14 credits will be comparatively light, and my work schedule looks somewhat humane. I have one class that is pass/fail. One class is a paper class. Only three final exams this semester. And then it's over. Over forever. This is the semester where I get to bring the champagne to my last class and try to hit the professor as I pop the cork and start the celebration. I'm trying to focus on the finish line. But my ambivalence makes it difficult. One semester is manageable. Another semester is more than I can handle. I'm excited to interact with and be intellectually challenged by classmates again. I dread the thought of hearing inane comments from that guy in each class. I might actually enjoy my classes this semester. Who am I kidding; there is nothing even remotely enjoyable about law school. This is what I've always wanted. Why haven't I dropped out yet? But more importantly, why isn't it over yet?

On this noche vieja...

I'm not choking on 12 grapes. Man, I miss Spain. But as I reminisce about the awesomeness of my past, I am reminded of just how anxious I am for it to be 2009 already. On deck for the coming year: Tickets to Wicked. Law school graduation. Passing the bar exam. Getting licensed to practice. Living accommodations upgrade. Europe trip. Not going back to school in September. Moving? Maybe. New car? I sure hope so. All undeniably good things. And then there was 2008. Did anything good really happen in 2008? I must say, my good friend Dave Barry sums it up waaaaaay better than I ever could. Click the link. Be enlightened. http://www.miamiherald.com/living/columnists/dave-barry/story/826965.html

In case you didn't make it onto the Christmas card list this year...

My grandma read this and said I missed my true calling. I think if law doesn't work out, I will definitely look into a career as a sarcastic pointer out of the obvious.


Season’s Greetings!


The lyricist who penned the words, "It's the most wonderful time of the year" may have been referring to the Christmas season, but as an overworked grad student, I don't think it is a coincidence that this most wonderful of times happens to include the end of another school semester. As finals fade into the not so distant past, I find myself with time to reflect on everything that has happened over the last year. And while the proliferation of blogs and Facebook have made keeping in touch more convenient than ever, I think the tradition of sending out family newsletters at Christmas is one worth keeping.

It has been an exciting year, with random adventure hiding amidst the mundane. Scott and I are still living in Salem, Oregon, where my legal brainwashing continues. On the side, I continue to be a crusader for justice at the Oregon Department of Justice, in the Child Advocacy Section. I got an upgrade on my work title after becoming court certified in April and am now the "lead law clerk" in our section, which means I have had the privilege of training new clerks taking their first steps into the legal field. It has been a lot of fun. I have also been able to make court appearances, and do “real lawyer stuff”, which has been both challenging and exciting. Getting out of the classroom and into the courtroom has given me hope that working in the law will be less soul-sapping than studying it. As I enter my last semester of law school, I find that mandatory minimum attendance requirements are really getting in the way of my practicing law. I think the good news is that by this time next year I will be gainfully employed...or at least standing on the steps of some courthouse in a business suit, holding a sign that says "Will litigate for food." Either one sounds preferable to the ivory tower. If anyone has any connections to the legal community, feel free to drop my name.

Scott has also been keeping busy this year, continuing to work for what appears to be the last bank standing, Bank of America. Scott started out the year as a Personal Banker, but has been promoted to the Teller Operation Specialist at his banking center. If you're wondering exactly what that entails, I have come to the conclusion that it means he is in charge of "running things." This includes, but is not limited to taking phone calls at 6:00 in the morning from slackers calling in sick, playing human calculator for tellers who cannot seem to count their money at the end of the day, and riding to the rescue of managers who have locked their office keys in the car. While I am not always crazy about sharing him with his very demanding work family, Scott is unfailingly professional and extremely adept at what he does.

In non-work/school related news, Scott and I were called to a joint teaching position in our ward Primary this year, which has raised serious doubts in our minds about the prudence of a three hour church meeting. Every week we have the profound privilege of doing battle with 8 five-year-olds who excel at jumping from chairs and reinventing "Duck, Duck, Goose," but cannot seem to master sitting still at such a tender age. For all you parents who wonder why your kids come home from church more riled up than when you left the house, I confess, it is because we hapless teachers feed them lots of gummy bears in a futile attempt to keep them quiet long enough to teach a 5 minute lesson. Before you pass judgment on our methods, I ask you bear in mind that we are a childless couple, a fact which, based on this experience, is unlikely to change in the foreseeable future.

And I suppose that’s the elevator version of our year in review. 2008 has been a fantastic year and our hopes are high for 2009. We wish you all a very merry Christmas and our thoughts are with you during this holiday season.

Inclement weather

I've spent a significant portion of my life in regions that see significant amounts of winter snowfall. Oregon is supposedly an exception to that. I say supposedly, because everyone around here adamantly insists that snow in Oregon is indeed anomalous. This means after a dusting of the white stuff, the roads will go uncleared for days because there are no snowplows to be found, black ice inevitably forms everywhere, offices close, commerce grinds to a standstill, and people hunker down in their houses fervently awaiting the return of what is not anomalous around here: rain. I must say, though I have only lived in Oregon for a little more than two years, there have been crippling snowstorms each winter, which leaves me wondering why people haven't yet learned to deal with it. At any rate, since it is a Saturday and I really don't have anywhere to be, I decided to join the ranks of the stay-at-homers and hum "Let it snow." I'm now a week into my Christmas vacation, and life is extremely good. Scott and I took a trip to the coast last weekend for our second anniversary, and I must say it was an amazingly efficient way to bring my brain back to normal functioning after exams. We stayed at a great oceanfront hotel, visited a great old lighthouse, did a little whale watching, sampled the local fare, and strolled snow covered beaches without a care in the world. It was fantastic. When it was time to make the trek home, the weather was clear, but the roads were significantly less so. It was pretty much a sheet of ice the entire way, and when you combine that with people who aren't accustomed to driving in the snow, bad things happen. As we were driving along, the car in front of us slammed his breaks as a random group of people inexplicably ran across the highway. Scott tried to brake, but we didn’t stop. As I said we were going to crash, Scott veered right, and we went off the side of the road. It was quite the excitement. Actually, just the front tires went off the road, and the rest of the car was perched precariously on the top of an embankment. The same group that caused the near accident came over to help us push our car back on the road, and when we were able to get moving again, we saw that the reason all those people were just chilling on the road was because their two cars had gone completely off the highway into a ditch, and they were either waiting for help, or trying to get as many other people to feel their pain. Like I said, you would think that people would figure out how to drive in the snow, seeing as how it snows at least once every year, but sadly it's not a skill everyone can master. That's definitely why I'm going to spend this snow day inside.

Just breathe

The moment has arrived; the moment overworked students everywhere live for. My last exam was nothing short of aneurysm-inducing, and I'm still contemplating the legal and grade ramifications of running my car through the front door of my professor's law office. Honestly, a 13 page exam for a 2 credit class? Is that his sick idea of a joke? Sadist. People like that deserve to have their faces lit on fire and beaten out with a rake. But since I have neither a car, nor the desire to go to jail, I guess I'll just have to be content with the knowledge that I beat that exam and not the other way around. And here I sit, with absolutely nothing standing between me and an utterly deserved month-long reprieve. There is much to look forward to: sushi dinner tonight, going back to work and actually getting a paycheck again, an extended weekend at the coast, anniversary #2, a relaxing travel-free Christmas, and watching the bloodshot streaks fade from my eyes as survival mode dissipates. I am spent. And I'm not sure I entirely comprehend the enormity of the moment yet. There is now only one semester standing between me, and academic liberation. Can I make it? The answer this morning was no, but now it seems possible once again.

And now, a rant

Law school saps my will to live. That is the title of my new favorite ipod playlist. It's loaded with screaming standards by Linkin Park, a little rueful humor by the Offspring, and a dash of morose melancholy courtesy of the Goo Goo Dolls, because really, what is the point of all this screaming? No one's listening anyway. I will be taking exam 2 of 4 in a little less than an hour. I've been gorging myself on Trusts and Estates law since Monday evening, and at this point, my eyes are simply refusing to focus on my notes for another second. Refusing!!! It's not for lack of trying either, but every time I try to look at the statutes governing intestate succession, my eyes dart away from my computer screen in an action vaguely resembling an involuntary twitch. I hate my life, I hate my life, I hate my life... this thought runs through my head on a constant loop. I would just like to take this opportunity to express my annoyance at the widespread belief that the first year of law school is the worst, and that it only gets easier from there. NO! It does not get easier. You just get more and more bored with it, so you pay less attention to how awful it is. But then finals come, and the moment of reckoning rains down all its fury on you as you realize you spent the entire semester so focused on just surviving each day that you somehow neglected to learn a single solitary thing. Or maybe you learned a lot, but over the course of the semester your brain has simply reached critical mass and can no longer readily recall the volumes of knowledge locked away in the cavernous reaches of your mind. And yet, in the most antithetical approach to learning ever, the way they gauge your intelligence around here is to subject you to two weeks of final exams; 4 exams, three hours a piece, to test you on what you learned or should have learned over the course of 4 months. And that's it. Nothing else counts. Not your attendance, not the hours spent reading cases, not the public humiliation in class. Nothing. Just this one exam. Trusts and Estates alone is a four credit class, meaning I spent 4 hours a week in class, and at least three times that amount out of class doing reading assignments for this class alone (I had 5 classes, by the way), and now you want me to summon all that information to the fore and do what with it? Kneel over my laptop and violently expel the contents of my brain in the eagerly awaiting exam software? Oh yes, that's exactly what I'm supposed to do. The only problem with this mental bulimia is that I can't exactly control what comes up in this torrential sickness. It might be a little something on revocable living trusts, blended in with Article 9, or miscellaneous itemized deductions, or right of redemption. How does one compartmentalize word vomit??? I'm so sick of people telling me that I'm almost done. As if I could be oblivious of that fact. But almost only counts when throwing hand grenades. In law school, almost equals 4 more miserable months. I'm so tired of being reminded that this was my dream and for better or worse, I brought this on myself. It's a fine line between dreams and nightmares, you know. I'm weary of this place. It's a sad, sad day when you wake up reciting the rules for introducing extrinsic evidence in a will contest. That day was today. My brain has suffered what will likely prove irreparable damage along with the rest of my rapidly deteriorating self. My muscles are surely atrophying away as I spend 8 hours a day in bed with my laptop, frantically trying to relearn everything I've been subjected to this semester. And I'm pretty sure I'm developing a bald spot in my favorite hair twisting spot. I hate this! I hate this. And now that I have that out of my system, I'm off to tackle my exam. And after that, with trembling hands I will shove a pair of headphones into my ears, crank up my new favorite playlist as loud as I can tolerate, and let the music clean the slate so I can start preparing for my next exam.