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.

Law school quote of the day...

"Lady justice may be blind but she will slap a hoe." --Kevin Barrett

I was less than successful in smothering my laughter when I read this little gem in a Facebook status update conversation. I'm sure my professor knew I wasn't laughing about strict foreclosure. Yet another reason why it's probably a bad idea to be online during class.

The resounding silence

When I was a senior in college, I had the opportunity to live by myself for several months. I must admit, it was a glorious experience. I had just come off the mission, where I was obligated to pass every waking moment with a companion superglued to my line of sight. I followed that up with a string of unfortunate, mentally unstable roommates who routinely attempted to suck me into the vortex of their insanity. After all that, living alone was a liberating experience. There was much to love about flying solo. I loved the way the floors only needed to be vacuumed once a week as opposed to every day. I loved the fact that dirty dishes were never left in the sink. I loved the quiet study time that replaced the constant noise of a blaring stereo or television in the adjoining bedroom. And I especially loved how my food managed to last a lot longer when it was no longer being stealthily stolen by cash-strapped housemates. There were also things that I didn't particularly love. I hated coming home at the end of a long day to a cold, dark, empty house. While there is much to be said about silence, there is also something inherently wonderful about coming home to people who care to see you. In college I experienced extremes when it came to roommates; there were ones that I absolutely loved, and others that made me seriously consider taking up residence in my car. Coming home to the ones I absolutely loved was always something I looked forward to. Being married has allowed me to combine the things I loved most about living alone with all the things I appreciated most about living with good roommates. It has been fantastic. But tonight, when I came home from Portland, the house was cold, dark, and empty. Part of me knows I should be savoring this unique opportunity because it means I'll be able to devote my utterly undivided attention to preparing for my final exams. It means I can spend the entire week in my pajamas if I feel so inclined. It means I can eat macaroni and cheese for every meal and no one is around to care. It means I can steal the covers and mimic a starfish in the ocean all I want, and no one will object. These are all the indisputable benefits of solo living. But the silence weighs on me heavily. Sometimes being alone isn't really all that great.