The news...

es·quire (ěs'kwīr', ĭ-skwīr')

Abbr. Esq. Used as an honorific usually in its abbreviated form, especially after the name of an attorney or a consular officer: Jane Doe, Esq.; John Doe, Esq.


And now, me.

Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end

Each new phase in my life seems to always be accompanied by the same sense of anxiety regarding my capacity to adapt. "I've been a college student for so long, I'm not sure I know how to be anything else. "I don't think I can be a normal person after being a missionary." "I've been so warped by law school that I'm fairly certain I can't function as a human being." In a way, it's actually a little comical, because I do always adapt. But still, it remains nerve-wracking to go from one chapter to the next. I have found that the best way to transition is just to close your eyes and jump in, which has definitely been the case with this, the most adult phase of my life to date. Immediately following the bar exam, Scott and I grabbed our backpacks and headed off in search of adventure, European style. Ever since I returned from Spain 4 years ago, I've been looking forward to the day when I would be able to go back. For some reason, this always seemed like a pipe dream to me because traveling abroad is expensive and I'm painfully practical. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense to spend several thousand bucks on a vacation when there are massive loans to be repaid. However, I am fortunate to have a husband who, though every bit as practical as myself, convinced me that this was a new beginning worth celebrating in fine style. So after two years of saving our pennies, we spent two weeks blowing through our savings in Spain, France, and Italy. It was unequivocally the best two weeks ever, and the misery of the bar exam was almost completely erased from my consciousness from the moment I stepped off the plane. We saw the sights, rode the rails, got lost (okay, so we were lost pretty much the whole time), pretended to understand French, slept in the scariest hostel in Barcelona, sampled the local fare, and took the most amazing photos. I debated whether or not to post the detailed version of our travels here, because they are definitely hilarity filled, but so much happened during those two weeks that I haven't even finished writing it all down. The reason for that is the fact that, upon our return to good old Oregon, I immediately began a new job. All throughout my law school experience, essentially the only thing that kept me going was the knowledge that when it was all over, I would be qualified to work in a job that I would surely love. Though I would joke about aspiring to be an ambulance chaser, I have always wanted to be a public interest lawyer. I knew early on that private practice was just not for me. Well, three years later, my idealism has been replaced with debt, and in my desperation to get a job, any job, I find myself starting my legal career working in tort litigation and criminal defense. Gotta start somewhere, right? Even if it's at the opposite end of the spectrum of where I want to be. Over the course of my first month as an almost lawyer (bar exam results are still two weeks away), I have found that the trade offs aren't all that bad. I'm not practicing the type of law that I always thought I would, but I'm getting that all-important "experience" that employers are so insistent that you have. My boss is a stellar mentor and the firm, which is wonderfully laid back, doesn't require that I sacrifice my evenings, weekends and firstborn child to the pursuit of higher billable hours. So far, I'm really enjoying learning the ropes, and maybe, hopefully someday soon, I'll be able to look back on this all and say with a straight face that I'm glad I went to law school. Unfortunately, as long as my entire paychecks are going to pay off student loans, I don't really see that happening in the foreseeable future. The new job also necessitated a change of address, because really, who wants to spend two hours each day commuting on I-5 between Portland and Salem? The answer is no one. With Scott also transferring to Portland, it just didn't make sense to stay in Salem. So we loaded up our lives and moved to Beaverton, which is a suburb of Portland. Moving from our first apartment was a somewhat bittersweet experience. I definitely won't miss the ever-present firetruck sirens wailing as they leave the station (which was right across the street from our complex), the ridiculous neighbors who play their craptastic music at 4:00 in the morning, or the dysfunctional toilet that randomly decides to refill itself every hour on the hour. But at the same time, it was just the tiniest bit sad to move out of our very first place. After all, we did live there for nearly three years and it was filled with all sorts of fun memories. Fortunately, my sadness was short lived, as our new apartment is a definite step up. It's palatial compared to our old place, the neighbors aren't comprised of the dregs of society, and the location can accurately be classified as "legitimately nice." Which is a major improvement from "ghetto fabulous." And now that we're getting settled into this, the latest of many new phases in life, and I have to say, anxiety has been replaced with anticipation. It promises to be a great chapter.

So you wanna be a lawyer?

Me too! Ever since I was ten. I already know what you're thinking. "What warped little ten year old decides in elementary school that she wants to grow up to be a social pariah, making a living by exploiting the stupidity and/or misfortunes of her fellow human beings?" I'm not entirely sure how to answer that question, and even if I could, it's another story for another day. Of course, one doesn't just wake up one morning, think to herself, "I want to be a lawyer" and by so thinking, become a lawyer. No, no. There is a lengthy list of prerequisites one must meet before assuming the lofty title of "Counselor," because, contrary to popular belief and all apparent accounts, not every idiot gets to become a lawyer. One such requirement is law school; the aspiring lawyer's first foray into the exciting world of legal analysis and critical thought. Sounds thrilling, doesn't it? Daily intellectually sparring with great academic thinkers and other like minded colleagues! Then the first day ends and you realize you've set yourself not on the path to enlightenment, but on the road to Hell, paved not with good intentions, but the shattered remnants of your self esteem. But you're not particularly economically inclined and you don't realize that sunk costs are always irrelevant, so you press on; not wanting to waste your initial investment, and foolishly deluding yourself into thinking it will get better. It never does. But one day, your academic journey comes to an end, you don a goofy looking hat and robe, get a prestigious degree, and you're so sure that you've made it! Now you get to be a lawyer! Not so fast there, turbo. Aren't you forgetting something? Oh yes. The ultimate haze. The bar exam. This year the exam was held in Clackamas, a solid hour away from where I live. I thought it would be wise to rent a hotel room in that area for those few days in order to avoid unnecessary driving, stress, and loss of sleep. At the same time, I was already profoundly annoyed at having shelled out $650 to take the test itself, and to spend an extra $100 a night to stay at the test site seemed like the very definition of insult to injury, so I booked myself a shady little spot in Gresham, 12 miles from the hotel where the exam was to be administered. I headed up to my hotel on Monday afternoon, thinking it would be an easy drive, given the time of day. An overturned semi truck ruined those aspirations and the drive took two hours instead of one. I had also decided to take our little clunker Sentra instead of the Honda because I didn't want to put the unnecessary miles on our new car. Have I mentioned that our Sentra has no air conditioning? Well it doesn't. And the last week has seen record high temperatures in Oregon. It wasn't a pleasant drive. But I found the hotel, parked myself in front of the a/c unit in my room, and did my best to convince my rattled nerves to calm down. I turned in for an early night, but woke up every single hour the night before the exam. I suppose paranoia will do that to a person. I've been fed a steady diet of bar exam horror stories for three months now, and I was just sure that I would sleep in, have a flat tire, drop and shatter my laptop, and come down with appendicitis just prior to or during the test. No wonder I didn't sleep. On the morning of the exam, I got lost on the way from my hotel to the test site (thank you Mapquest), but still managed to make it there with time to spare. I checked in, made my way down to a poorly lit conference room full of tables as far as the eye could see, and staked out a seat to which I would be shackled for the next two days. Then I waited. Over the next hour, hundreds of people streamed in, and all around me were people gushing about how much or how little they had studied and how nervous they were. Thank you all for stating the obvious. Needless to say, I put my earplugs in long before the test actually started. The first day of the exam consisted of the Multistate Practice Test memo and 9 essay questions. About 8 hours in total. I was pleased that law spilled from my brain and onto the page like water through a broken dam. I was not pleased to see a Fed Tax question, which incidentally hadn't been tested in the last 7 years. About halfway through the day, the portable a/c unit in the room stopped working, apparently overloaded by the task of cooling a room full of hundreds of bodies and firebreathing laptops. When they managed to get it going again, it wasn't functioning properly and according to the temperature gauge on the proctor's clock, the mercury rose to 85 degrees that day in the testing room. It was stifling and I'm pretty sure there were many people there who neglected to shower before coming to the exam. But eventually it ended, and when it did, the relief at knowing the "hard part" was past was much appreciated. I staggered out into the 100 degree heat of the day, drove back to my hotel and collapsed in a heap of intellectual rubble. But try as I did, I didn't sleep the second night either. Who needs to be rested during the most important exam of her life, anyway? I'm going to say I probably did, as evidenced by the fact that I got lost again on the second day on the way from my hotel to the exam. By that time it was just comical. If anyone out there is wondering what to get me for Christmas or birthday, a GPS navigator would be nice. But back to the test. The second day consisted of 6 hours of 200 multiple choice questions, but don't be fooled. The answer choices weren't between right and wrong. Oh no. They were between right and more right. As I made my way through the test booklet, filling in bubbles on a Scantron for what I desperately hoped to be the last time, I started to feel incredibly dizzy. The words blurred on the page and I briefly considered getting up and walking around, just to get the blood moving. However, I just knew that if I got up, I would probably pass out, definitely hit my head on the table, and certainly require a visit to the ER, for which the bar examiners wouldn't give me extra makeup time. Reflexively I wondered who the appropriate parties would be to sue for such an occurrence. The temperature in the room had again risen to the high 80's, so I convinced myself I was just dehydrated. I took a few sips of water and a several deep breaths and soldiered on...and on. My brain ached, my wrists cramped, my soul whimpered. And then it was over. Though it felt like I had spent weeks in that exam room, the test finally ended and I made my way home in my air conditioningless car in 109 degree heat. As I drove home, I admit, I was pleased with my efforts. I studied incessantly, I responded as coherently as possible under the circumstances, and I honestly felt like I did all I could. That has to be enough for minimal competence, right? I sincerely hope so. When I arrived in Salem, I couldn't bear the thought of going home to my partially demolished, and equally air conditioningless apartment, so I went to the only place I knew I could find both a/c, wireless internet, and peace and quiet: the law library. But I didn't study. And for once in my life, that is completely alright.

Introducing...

Our new ride.

Suggestions on what we should name it?

New and improved...everything

Sometimes karma tosses you a bone. And while part of me is extremely grateful, the other part (the part you all know and love) is indignantly saying "It is about time." There is only one week standing between me and the bar exam and things are finally, finally, finally falling into place. Finally. I got a job offer today, and while I always saw myself going into non-profit or government work (really anything except private practice), I am actually excited about this opportunity to get out there, learn the ropes, and be a lawyer. Even better is the fact that I'll be able to start as soon as I get back from Europe, so there's an enormous weight off my mind, knowing I'll have a steady paycheck coming in before my loans go into repayment. Shudder. Loans. My soon-to-be new boss was even kind enough to reassure me that in the unlikely event that I don't pass the bar on the first try, I'll still be able to clerk for the firm until the next time the exam is administered. Why, thank you for that kind offer, but if I don't pass it on the first try, I think I'll try my hand at parachuteless skydiving instead. Scott has also been scoping out new employment in the Portland area, and the prognosis is good. Let's just say he's gotten way more hits on his resume than I ever got on mine. For some reason, inexperienced recent grad lawyers aren't exactly a hot ticket item in a recession. Go figure. Because our new jobs are or will be based in a new locale, Scott and I have taken particular delight in the fact that this means we finally get to move out of the glorious little ghetto we've called home for the last two and a half years. Resolving not to make the same mistake twice, we actually took our time and painstakingly researched our options before signing a new lease, because let's be honest, who wants to live next door to a fire station and a meth lab if they don't have to? We'll be moving into our new place at the end of August, right after we get back from Europe. I know, busy month. But we're thrilled. The location is great, the apartment is a major step up, and perhaps the best part of all? If we no longer live in Salem, there's no way we can continue to teach primary in our Salem ward. Terrible, right? Cram it, I don't care. A year and a half of indentured servitude in the ward daycare is an awfully long time for someone who isn't exactly the kid craving type. Also on the list of the new and improved is the possibility of a new vehicle. On Tuesday, after a full day of apartment hunting and job interviewing, the alternator on our car died on the way home, leaving us stranded in a ghetto even scarier than the one in which we live. How is that even possible? In true last straw fashion, we decided we've had it with dumping our funds into the black hole that is our mechanic's garage. Though it is somewhat comical in a "having come full circle" kind of way (broken starter on our honeymoon, anyone?), I think it's time to move on. We've already got our eye on a few possibilities, so hopefully we'll have a new ride to go with our new life. New, improved, exciting, and maybe just a little bit scary, but in a good way. That's the news in a nutshell and quite likely the final chapter of The Sanity Conundrum: Surviving Law School. Stay tuned for the thrilling sequel: The Sanity Conundrum: Rantings of a First Year Associate.

Top 20 things

I'd rather do right now instead of study for the bar:

20. Make cookies
19. Look for a new apartment
18. Clean the apartment in which I currently live
17. Ride a roller coaster
16. Hike a mountain
15. Go to the beach
14. Watch the world go by
13. Be hit in the face repeatedly with a blunt object
12. Find a job
11. Brush up on my Spanish skills
10: Get a pedicure
9: Go for a run
8: Watch a movie
7: Blog about something besides the bar
6: Stalk people on Facebook
5: Read a book for fun
4: Take a nap on the grass
3: Eat cookies
2: Daydream about Europe
1. Nothing

Every couple nights or so, you know you pop into my dreams

The bar exam is about a month away, and I can tell the tension is mounting because my brain is no longer respecting the natural bounds between study time and non-study time (i.e. sleep). I've had this happen to me before, usually towards the end of the second week of final exams. It's obnoxious. In the early hours of the morning, my brain will start having some variation of the following schizophrenic conversation with itself. Very loudly. "Hey...are you awake?" "It's 5am, what do you think?" "It's just that I've been having trouble remembering what the seventh way to terminate an easement is. Do you know?" "Are you serious? It's early! Go back to sleep! We have to go to bar review in a couple of hours and it's hard enough to stay awake in that class as it is." "I know, but it's really bothering me. I know there's estoppel, necessity ending, destruction of the servient parcel, condemnation, release, abandonment, merger, and...? " "You really want to talk about Property at 5 in the morning?" "Well, we could talk about Contracts if you want." "That's just it, I don't want to talk about anything even remotely related to the law. Not now, and to be honest, not ever. Go back to sleep!" "I can't. Not until I figure out the last way to extinguish an easement!" "Prescription, you idiot. The answer is prescription. Now can we go back to sleep? Please??" "Oh yeah, I knew that. Thanks for reminding me. But I also had a question about the admissibility of character evidence." At this point, the conversation has actually made sleep impossible, and I'm left with no choice but to lie awake in bed, dreading the start of another day and the dumping of more information into my already beleaguered brain. One more month, right? Just one more month.