950
dollars spent on Christmas presents, even though I am living off loans and thought I had "cut back" this year. Geesh!
364
days gone by in 2007; one more to go.
18
more months of law school.
13
relatives who said, "you look tired" during the Christmas visit.
12
more days until final grades are posted for fall semester.
11
hours of sleep per day/night is what I am averaging during the break. Heavenly!!
54
summer intern prospects
0
summer internship offers
412
times I have reminded myself to "have faith."
3
days it took me to finish the law review article.
3
days it took me to write an article for the SBA Magazine.
2.5
pajama days after returning home from visiting the family.
3
feet of mail is resting on the dining room table.
1
bottle of champagne ready for new year's eve.
1
more chance to wish you a happy new year
0
chance of me driving tonight.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
One more before we are half way there
For several weeks now my poor, abused body has existed off of fast food, espresso, xanax, rolaids, pepto bismol and other imbibings. "Sleep and food are only for the weak," my friend Capt. Cave says, which is a famous quote from her alma mater (West Point). And, when I do try to sleep, it is restless, often interrupted by nausea, aching and cramping in my legs, back, and feet. So, I am wide awake at three a.m., chomping on an apple, sipping on some water, and hoping that my body doesn't go into shock from the ingestion of real nutrients.
In the darkness, the gracious silence of this time when most of the world sleeps, I have listened to some of my favorite tunes softly playing on my computer while I catch up on some e-mails (and blogging, of course) while waiting for the sleepiness to return; but, even though my body is still tired, my brain is awake, alert, and seems ready to "get it done." So, I guess I'll start the studying again....for one more exam. It's gonna be a killer, but then it's gonna be over, and this journey will be half way over. So, that's how it's going.
In the darkness, the gracious silence of this time when most of the world sleeps, I have listened to some of my favorite tunes softly playing on my computer while I catch up on some e-mails (and blogging, of course) while waiting for the sleepiness to return; but, even though my body is still tired, my brain is awake, alert, and seems ready to "get it done." So, I guess I'll start the studying again....for one more exam. It's gonna be a killer, but then it's gonna be over, and this journey will be half way over. So, that's how it's going.
Saturday, December 01, 2007
Tis the season!
It’s exam season, so this note will be brief.
God, in his gracious mercy, does not let us see the future, for if we could, many of us would run from it. I know that would be true of me. For, if in August of this year, I could have foreseen all of the work that awaited me, all the reading, and sleepless nights (not to mention a myriad of personal challenges), I would have surely decided to just stay in bed and “skip it.”
But August became September, and September rolled us into October. October brought a change to the scenery as it ushered in November. And there is no stopping November from introducing us to December. Hours turn to days, days to weeks, weeks to months, and months to years. Somewhere along the way, I blinked, and the semester is over.
I know, though, that I lived every painful day of it—and every painful page. This morning, out of curiosity, I reviewed the reading assignments for each class this semester. Let’s see, in criminal law we read 896 pages. Constitutional law required of us to read 796 pages; Evidence included 848 pages of reading; and the Tax professor went easy on us, only requiring 787 pages of reading. We also had to read about 300 pages in Law Skills class, but mostly we prepared projects for that class.
If you’re doing the math, this equals (approximately) 3627 pages of reading over 14 weeks or 259 pages per week, which equals out to 51 pages of reading per night.
Of course, the “reading” is only part of the nightly assignment. After the reading is done, then the writing begins. There are notes to draft and outlines to prepare. You may also need to read a commercial supplement for a class (or two) to help you understand the 51 pages of textbook reading that you just completed.
All of this reading typically boils down to about a 100-page outline (which is far too much to manage) and a lot of memorization and practice tests before the big exam. And, that will be all that consumes me for the next two weeks of exams. Tis the season.
God, in his gracious mercy, does not let us see the future, for if we could, many of us would run from it. I know that would be true of me. For, if in August of this year, I could have foreseen all of the work that awaited me, all the reading, and sleepless nights (not to mention a myriad of personal challenges), I would have surely decided to just stay in bed and “skip it.”
But August became September, and September rolled us into October. October brought a change to the scenery as it ushered in November. And there is no stopping November from introducing us to December. Hours turn to days, days to weeks, weeks to months, and months to years. Somewhere along the way, I blinked, and the semester is over.
I know, though, that I lived every painful day of it—and every painful page. This morning, out of curiosity, I reviewed the reading assignments for each class this semester. Let’s see, in criminal law we read 896 pages. Constitutional law required of us to read 796 pages; Evidence included 848 pages of reading; and the Tax professor went easy on us, only requiring 787 pages of reading. We also had to read about 300 pages in Law Skills class, but mostly we prepared projects for that class.
If you’re doing the math, this equals (approximately) 3627 pages of reading over 14 weeks or 259 pages per week, which equals out to 51 pages of reading per night.
Of course, the “reading” is only part of the nightly assignment. After the reading is done, then the writing begins. There are notes to draft and outlines to prepare. You may also need to read a commercial supplement for a class (or two) to help you understand the 51 pages of textbook reading that you just completed.
All of this reading typically boils down to about a 100-page outline (which is far too much to manage) and a lot of memorization and practice tests before the big exam. And, that will be all that consumes me for the next two weeks of exams. Tis the season.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
It's a rollercoaster ride....
Life is like a rollercoaster. There are ups and downs. It comes at you fast and can seem out of control. You only hope that at the end of the ride, when you pull into the station, your final words aren’t, “That’s it?”
A lot of life happens in a short time. This is especially true in the day-to-day grind of law school. Whether at the top or the bottom of the law school rollercoaster, there is little time to do more than scream, hold on, and prepare for the next turn.
That’s what my life has felt like these past few weeks. On November 1 I received a letter from my firm of choice informing me that I was not their candidate of choice for the summer 2008 internship position. Boy, was I bummed about that. But, for better or worse, there wasn’t a whole lot of time to drown my sorrows.
And, at the snap of a finger, three more weeks have passed, and we are facing a long-overdue Thanksgiving break. Afterward, there will be one more week of classes, followed by final exams, and then this semester is over.
I will readily admit that I feel woefully unprepared for exams. I hope that if I devote myself to relentless studying during Thanksgiving break that I will not get thrown out of the rollercoaster car when we snap around the next curve . . . but I know it’s going to be a bumpy ride.
A lot of life happens in a short time. This is especially true in the day-to-day grind of law school. Whether at the top or the bottom of the law school rollercoaster, there is little time to do more than scream, hold on, and prepare for the next turn.
That’s what my life has felt like these past few weeks. On November 1 I received a letter from my firm of choice informing me that I was not their candidate of choice for the summer 2008 internship position. Boy, was I bummed about that. But, for better or worse, there wasn’t a whole lot of time to drown my sorrows.
And, at the snap of a finger, three more weeks have passed, and we are facing a long-overdue Thanksgiving break. Afterward, there will be one more week of classes, followed by final exams, and then this semester is over.
I will readily admit that I feel woefully unprepared for exams. I hope that if I devote myself to relentless studying during Thanksgiving break that I will not get thrown out of the rollercoaster car when we snap around the next curve . . . but I know it’s going to be a bumpy ride.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Missing William
The call came at about 7:00 a.m. on a Sunday morning in October. I was awake, but not out of bed yet. I could tell from my mother’s tone that it wasn’t a social call, and then she was off the phone and coming down the hall to my room. The next 48 hours hold some of the most painful memories of my life; and twenty-five years later the wound is just as tender, the pain is just as real.
You see, my dad had lung cancer at this time, and his health was failing rapidly. So, early morning or late night calls definitely got my attention. I knew that it was just a matter of time before “the call” would come.
My best friend at the time was also my cousin, William. Even though he was only 10 months older than me, William seemed so much wiser and knowledgeable. He was good-looking and popular. I was thrilled to call his friends my own. Our mothers were first cousins, and our fathers were best friends. My father considered William to be the son he never had; and that was fine with me, because I loved him like a brother.
We went to the same elementary school. He was a grade ahead of me, so he would help me with my homework—when he felt like it. I thought that was cool. I felt so smart at school when William had helped me with the answers. I had no doubt that they were always right.
I remember the day we were riding home on the bus and we saw a dead dog on the side of the road near our stop. At first, I thought it was a mean dog from the neighborhood, so I didn’t care; but then I realized it was my dog, Tuffy. (I know Tuffy is a stupid name, but, heck, I was in third grade; what do you expect?) I waited beside the road (actually, a busy highway) so that no one else would run over Tuffy (again) while William went home and got a shovel, and we buried him. I cried like a girl. William tried not to cry, but I think he did.
To earn money one summer, we started a “bee killing business” where we would go to neighbor’s homes and dispose of bee, hornet, or wasp nests. Our fee was $1 per nest, and our only tools included a broom and some bug spray. That was a tough summer.
In 7th grade we had our first official school dance where everyone had to dress up. The guys had to wear suits and the girls had to wear dresses. Well, I was quite the tomboy and didn’t appreciate that rule. But I went to the dance anyway--at William's urging--(with some guy whose name escapes me) and I remember William convincing me to actually “dance” at the dance, in spite of the dress. Before the night was over, I was having such a good time that I had forgotten all about that stupid dress. William did that for me.
By high school William and I had started a neighborhood band. We even wrote some of our own songs. Oh, and they were awful! I remember one night we played a few of our songs for William’s dad, and he was quite diplomatic about our “enthusiasm.” William banged on the drums, and I plucked at a guitar, and we knew we were going to be famous. It wasn’t meant to be, though, and I haven’t picked up a guitar for about 25 years.
William and I involuntarily parted ways in high school. William’s parents divorced; and shortly thereafter, so did mine. We all moved to new homes and had to endure weekend visitations. By this time, we were both working and doing our best to get out of high school and out of our one-horse town. William stayed with his dad a lot—about 50 miles away—and I just didn’t get to see him as much. But, he was the master of surprises, and he would just show up sometimes on the doorstep. He didn’t own a car, so his only means of transportation was borrowing a car (which didn’t happen much), walking, or hitch-hiking.
The last time I saw him he had hitch-hiked from his dad’s to visit his mom, who was in the hospital. The doorbell rang, and there he was on my doorstep. He had come by the house to get a ride to the hospital, and it was just so good to see him. We talked about everything from work to music to life to girlfriends and boyfriends. Later, I dropped him off at the hospital and we promised to see each other again soon.
That was three months or so before the phone rang in October. The events of this Sunday morning would prohibit us from keeping our last promise to one another. William’s dad called to tell us that William had been killed in a car accident. His dad has just returned from the hospital where he had to identify his son’s body. Now, though, he needed someone to go tell William’s mother. I don’t remember getting dressed. I don’t remember speaking a word. But, within minutes, mom and I were on our way to Aunt Sallie’s house. When we got there, she was all alone, slumped down beside her bed, with the phone still in her hand, groaning and moaning like a wounded animal. (It was the most awful sound I have ever heard.) Someone from the sheriff’s office had accidentally called--in spite of William’s dad saying he would take care of it--and told her that her son was dead.
I was 19 years old that day—two days short of my 20th birthday—and I had never thought that someone my age could die. Old people die. Sick people die. My dad would die. But not me. Not William. Not at 19 or 20.
The next 48 hours were the most painful of my life. I had to tell a mother that her only son was dead. I had to call my dad and tell him that the boy he loved like a son was dead. And I had to bury my best friend on my 20th birthday.
You know sometimes I will see him in a crowd. Sometimes I have even caught myself looking for him. I have thought I caught a glimpse of him and almost called his name. Sometimes I will hear a song on one of the oldies stations that our “band” used to play and my world just stops spinning; and, for a moment, I am 15, strumming a six-string, and my best friend is singing and keeping the beat. But, the best of times, is when he hitchhikes into one of my dreams, and we just hang out like it's a Sunday afternoon and we've got nothing but time and a full tank of gas. Those moments are short-lived though; the dream ends or the present jerks me back into reality where 25 years later feels more like 25 minutes, and my heart is crushed all over again. If time heals all wounds, perhaps I need to be a bit more patient and give this one another 25 years. Thus far, it is just as tender and painful as that Sunday morning in 1982.
So, once again, it's October, and I am missing William. Wherever you are, my dear friend, I hope you are at peace. And if at all possible, I hope you know that you are still dearly loved and truly missed. I am certain that you miss us as well; and it's almost amusing to think of you doing your best to borrow a car or hitch a ride home. What a pleasant surprise it would be to find you on my doorstep tomorrow morning. Until then, I am missing you.
My Best Friend
You see, my dad had lung cancer at this time, and his health was failing rapidly. So, early morning or late night calls definitely got my attention. I knew that it was just a matter of time before “the call” would come.
My best friend at the time was also my cousin, William. Even though he was only 10 months older than me, William seemed so much wiser and knowledgeable. He was good-looking and popular. I was thrilled to call his friends my own. Our mothers were first cousins, and our fathers were best friends. My father considered William to be the son he never had; and that was fine with me, because I loved him like a brother.
We went to the same elementary school. He was a grade ahead of me, so he would help me with my homework—when he felt like it. I thought that was cool. I felt so smart at school when William had helped me with the answers. I had no doubt that they were always right.
I remember the day we were riding home on the bus and we saw a dead dog on the side of the road near our stop. At first, I thought it was a mean dog from the neighborhood, so I didn’t care; but then I realized it was my dog, Tuffy. (I know Tuffy is a stupid name, but, heck, I was in third grade; what do you expect?) I waited beside the road (actually, a busy highway) so that no one else would run over Tuffy (again) while William went home and got a shovel, and we buried him. I cried like a girl. William tried not to cry, but I think he did.
To earn money one summer, we started a “bee killing business” where we would go to neighbor’s homes and dispose of bee, hornet, or wasp nests. Our fee was $1 per nest, and our only tools included a broom and some bug spray. That was a tough summer.
In 7th grade we had our first official school dance where everyone had to dress up. The guys had to wear suits and the girls had to wear dresses. Well, I was quite the tomboy and didn’t appreciate that rule. But I went to the dance anyway--at William's urging--(with some guy whose name escapes me) and I remember William convincing me to actually “dance” at the dance, in spite of the dress. Before the night was over, I was having such a good time that I had forgotten all about that stupid dress. William did that for me.
By high school William and I had started a neighborhood band. We even wrote some of our own songs. Oh, and they were awful! I remember one night we played a few of our songs for William’s dad, and he was quite diplomatic about our “enthusiasm.” William banged on the drums, and I plucked at a guitar, and we knew we were going to be famous. It wasn’t meant to be, though, and I haven’t picked up a guitar for about 25 years.
William and I involuntarily parted ways in high school. William’s parents divorced; and shortly thereafter, so did mine. We all moved to new homes and had to endure weekend visitations. By this time, we were both working and doing our best to get out of high school and out of our one-horse town. William stayed with his dad a lot—about 50 miles away—and I just didn’t get to see him as much. But, he was the master of surprises, and he would just show up sometimes on the doorstep. He didn’t own a car, so his only means of transportation was borrowing a car (which didn’t happen much), walking, or hitch-hiking.
The last time I saw him he had hitch-hiked from his dad’s to visit his mom, who was in the hospital. The doorbell rang, and there he was on my doorstep. He had come by the house to get a ride to the hospital, and it was just so good to see him. We talked about everything from work to music to life to girlfriends and boyfriends. Later, I dropped him off at the hospital and we promised to see each other again soon.
That was three months or so before the phone rang in October. The events of this Sunday morning would prohibit us from keeping our last promise to one another. William’s dad called to tell us that William had been killed in a car accident. His dad has just returned from the hospital where he had to identify his son’s body. Now, though, he needed someone to go tell William’s mother. I don’t remember getting dressed. I don’t remember speaking a word. But, within minutes, mom and I were on our way to Aunt Sallie’s house. When we got there, she was all alone, slumped down beside her bed, with the phone still in her hand, groaning and moaning like a wounded animal. (It was the most awful sound I have ever heard.) Someone from the sheriff’s office had accidentally called--in spite of William’s dad saying he would take care of it--and told her that her son was dead.
I was 19 years old that day—two days short of my 20th birthday—and I had never thought that someone my age could die. Old people die. Sick people die. My dad would die. But not me. Not William. Not at 19 or 20.
The next 48 hours were the most painful of my life. I had to tell a mother that her only son was dead. I had to call my dad and tell him that the boy he loved like a son was dead. And I had to bury my best friend on my 20th birthday.
You know sometimes I will see him in a crowd. Sometimes I have even caught myself looking for him. I have thought I caught a glimpse of him and almost called his name. Sometimes I will hear a song on one of the oldies stations that our “band” used to play and my world just stops spinning; and, for a moment, I am 15, strumming a six-string, and my best friend is singing and keeping the beat. But, the best of times, is when he hitchhikes into one of my dreams, and we just hang out like it's a Sunday afternoon and we've got nothing but time and a full tank of gas. Those moments are short-lived though; the dream ends or the present jerks me back into reality where 25 years later feels more like 25 minutes, and my heart is crushed all over again. If time heals all wounds, perhaps I need to be a bit more patient and give this one another 25 years. Thus far, it is just as tender and painful as that Sunday morning in 1982.
So, once again, it's October, and I am missing William. Wherever you are, my dear friend, I hope you are at peace. And if at all possible, I hope you know that you are still dearly loved and truly missed. I am certain that you miss us as well; and it's almost amusing to think of you doing your best to borrow a car or hitch a ride home. What a pleasant surprise it would be to find you on my doorstep tomorrow morning. Until then, I am missing you.
My Best Friend
William Howard Hansberry
December 5, 1961 - October 24, 1982
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Warning: Very depressing! Read at your own risk!
Here’s the weekend so far….
I am slowly recuperating from a wicked head cold. It literally kept me in bed all of last weekend, and it has sapped me of all energy this week. When I wasn’t in class, I was at home sleeping—or trying to sleep between the coughing and sneezing.
The good news is the head cold is almost gone. The bad news is that it has now migrated to my chest. So, this weekend is round two of battling an annoying, pesky sickness. It’s just bad enough that it keeps me from reading, concentrating, or exercising. Oh, I haven’t been able to exercise in over a week, so my weight loss has come to a halt. And I feel like I am losing all of the muscle tone that I had worked so hard on. When I try to exercise, it only makes me cough so hard I think I’m going to break a rib. So when I’m lying in bed I can just feel myself turning into a tub of lard again.
Another repercussion from this sickness is that I have missed my first law review deadline. And, by “missed,” I mean that I had to request an extension of time. The editor was most gracious in allowing the extension, but just asking for it made me feel like a failure. I do not request extensions. It is not part of my composition. If I am given a realistic deadline, I will kill myself to meet that deadline, but I will not ask for an extension; well, until now. Better yet, I am 24 hours away from the extension’s deadline, and I haven’t written one word. And, just to ensure that I fail on multiple levels, I also have not prepared for Monday’s classes. On the bright side, though, my blog is up to date.
My one bright spot this weekend was supposed to be the college’s live theatre production, where my daughter is part of the production staff for the show. Every year I buy two season tickets so that my daughter and I can spend some time together and enjoy a show. But, when she’s working a show (like this one), I typically ask a friend to come along, which is what I did for Saturday night’s show. But, the friend I asked is a flake. I know that, and I knew that when I asked her. And, being the flake that she is, she canceled on me late Saturday afternoon “because [she] had wasted the whole day and needed to study.” First, I fail to see why that (i.e., she had wasted the whole day and needed to study) is my fault; but, the bottom line is, some lessons are better learned. And that is the lesson that I have to take away from this experience. The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. While I always want to believe that people will do the right thing, I must accept that they will not; and the place where I have the most control is avoiding setting myself up for disappointment. My ego will recover and, hopefully, it has learned this lesson for the last time. That didn’t make Saturday night’s experience any less painful, though. I paid for two seats and only got the benefit of one. And I went to the show alone. Not fun.
Speaking of the bruised ego, I am still waiting to hear about the summer associate position of my dreams. As per the recruiter, decisions were to be made during the third week of October. So far I have not received a rejection letter, which is good; but I also have not received an offer (i.e., not good). This probably means that I am on “hold,” at best. So, here’s my status: I have placed all of my eggs in this one basket. I have not applied for any other summer associate positions. Why? Because I want this one. I am now trying to prepare myself for the fact that I may not receive the offer and what to do then. I am also reminding myself of my mortal frailties and limitations and the fact that I have ultimately entrusted my entire life and livelihood to the Heavenly Father, who is in complete control of the future. I have already told Him, as I’m telling you, that I will be disappointed—very disappointed—should I not receive an offer to the firm of my dreams, but I will try to temper that with the knowledge that He knows what is best and in His grand design there is something bigger and better for me. I will probably need to re-read these words out loud when the rejection letter arrives.
Finally, my weekend has been consumed with thoughts of my kids. I miss them dearly. And, for some reason, I missed them very much this weekend. I miss being a mom. I miss being a part of their everyday lives. I do not like getting the 30-second capsule summary of their lives. I miss staying up late with them and just talking. I miss the days when we would all crowd onto my bed and read our favorite books—or at least a chapter or two before we would start gabbing and talk into the night. I miss the banter, and the jokes, and the crazy things we did together that would make us laugh uncontrollably. I miss giving them random hugs. I miss watching them sleep. And I feel like I am missing so much of their lives.
So, that’s my weekend so far. It hasn’t been fun or productive. And, to be honest, I’ll be happy to see Monday morning and put these dreadful days behind me.
I am slowly recuperating from a wicked head cold. It literally kept me in bed all of last weekend, and it has sapped me of all energy this week. When I wasn’t in class, I was at home sleeping—or trying to sleep between the coughing and sneezing.
The good news is the head cold is almost gone. The bad news is that it has now migrated to my chest. So, this weekend is round two of battling an annoying, pesky sickness. It’s just bad enough that it keeps me from reading, concentrating, or exercising. Oh, I haven’t been able to exercise in over a week, so my weight loss has come to a halt. And I feel like I am losing all of the muscle tone that I had worked so hard on. When I try to exercise, it only makes me cough so hard I think I’m going to break a rib. So when I’m lying in bed I can just feel myself turning into a tub of lard again.
Another repercussion from this sickness is that I have missed my first law review deadline. And, by “missed,” I mean that I had to request an extension of time. The editor was most gracious in allowing the extension, but just asking for it made me feel like a failure. I do not request extensions. It is not part of my composition. If I am given a realistic deadline, I will kill myself to meet that deadline, but I will not ask for an extension; well, until now. Better yet, I am 24 hours away from the extension’s deadline, and I haven’t written one word. And, just to ensure that I fail on multiple levels, I also have not prepared for Monday’s classes. On the bright side, though, my blog is up to date.
My one bright spot this weekend was supposed to be the college’s live theatre production, where my daughter is part of the production staff for the show. Every year I buy two season tickets so that my daughter and I can spend some time together and enjoy a show. But, when she’s working a show (like this one), I typically ask a friend to come along, which is what I did for Saturday night’s show. But, the friend I asked is a flake. I know that, and I knew that when I asked her. And, being the flake that she is, she canceled on me late Saturday afternoon “because [she] had wasted the whole day and needed to study.” First, I fail to see why that (i.e., she had wasted the whole day and needed to study) is my fault; but, the bottom line is, some lessons are better learned. And that is the lesson that I have to take away from this experience. The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. While I always want to believe that people will do the right thing, I must accept that they will not; and the place where I have the most control is avoiding setting myself up for disappointment. My ego will recover and, hopefully, it has learned this lesson for the last time. That didn’t make Saturday night’s experience any less painful, though. I paid for two seats and only got the benefit of one. And I went to the show alone. Not fun.
Speaking of the bruised ego, I am still waiting to hear about the summer associate position of my dreams. As per the recruiter, decisions were to be made during the third week of October. So far I have not received a rejection letter, which is good; but I also have not received an offer (i.e., not good). This probably means that I am on “hold,” at best. So, here’s my status: I have placed all of my eggs in this one basket. I have not applied for any other summer associate positions. Why? Because I want this one. I am now trying to prepare myself for the fact that I may not receive the offer and what to do then. I am also reminding myself of my mortal frailties and limitations and the fact that I have ultimately entrusted my entire life and livelihood to the Heavenly Father, who is in complete control of the future. I have already told Him, as I’m telling you, that I will be disappointed—very disappointed—should I not receive an offer to the firm of my dreams, but I will try to temper that with the knowledge that He knows what is best and in His grand design there is something bigger and better for me. I will probably need to re-read these words out loud when the rejection letter arrives.
Finally, my weekend has been consumed with thoughts of my kids. I miss them dearly. And, for some reason, I missed them very much this weekend. I miss being a mom. I miss being a part of their everyday lives. I do not like getting the 30-second capsule summary of their lives. I miss staying up late with them and just talking. I miss the days when we would all crowd onto my bed and read our favorite books—or at least a chapter or two before we would start gabbing and talk into the night. I miss the banter, and the jokes, and the crazy things we did together that would make us laugh uncontrollably. I miss giving them random hugs. I miss watching them sleep. And I feel like I am missing so much of their lives.
So, that’s my weekend so far. It hasn’t been fun or productive. And, to be honest, I’ll be happy to see Monday morning and put these dreadful days behind me.
Monday, October 08, 2007
Counting the cost over a cup of jo
This weekend was spent in North Carolina visiting family. It was a planned trip that seemed like a good idea in the planning stages. While driving to Virginia Sunday afternoon, I had plenty of time to reconsider that assessment.
The family just does not understand what I mean when I say, “I am busy.” They have nothing to compare it to. I know their lives. I understand their definition of “busy,” and it pales in comparison. I could enlighten them. I could go into great detail about the hours I spend on a nightly basis preparing for one class; but, what’s the point? They are busy. I am busy. We all have busy lives. And I have never been one to glory in my status. For instance, if I had pneumonia, I would say, “I am sick.” For those who don’t know that I am in law school, I say, “I go to college.” I do not gain any self-worth or satisfaction by convincing all family and friends that my schedule is much more atrocious than theirs—to the tenth degree—even though it is. So, instead of reciting the painful details of the five hours per night spent preparing for the next day’s classes, I simply say, “I am busy.”
Perhaps the blame is mine. Perhaps the family cannot ascertain the stress of my schedule because I speak of it in such generic terms—and even plan weekend trips to visit. So the primary lesson learned from this weekend’s trip is that I must be a better communicator.
Chester (my cat) is curled up in my open suitcase. The half unpacked suitcase seems to be a metaphor for my life. I am half way through this curriculum; too late to quit, too soon to finish. So much is in limbo. Am I packing? Or unpacking? If I had the time, could I find the energy to finish doing either? This evening, that is doubtful. Instead, there’s a pot of coffee brewing. It will be my partner in the long night ahead. I will read, outline, study; and, when my mind wonders, I will reminisce about the weekend in North Carolina, calculate its cost, remember its lesson, and hope I can recover....or find someplace else for that suitcase to take me.
The family just does not understand what I mean when I say, “I am busy.” They have nothing to compare it to. I know their lives. I understand their definition of “busy,” and it pales in comparison. I could enlighten them. I could go into great detail about the hours I spend on a nightly basis preparing for one class; but, what’s the point? They are busy. I am busy. We all have busy lives. And I have never been one to glory in my status. For instance, if I had pneumonia, I would say, “I am sick.” For those who don’t know that I am in law school, I say, “I go to college.” I do not gain any self-worth or satisfaction by convincing all family and friends that my schedule is much more atrocious than theirs—to the tenth degree—even though it is. So, instead of reciting the painful details of the five hours per night spent preparing for the next day’s classes, I simply say, “I am busy.”
Perhaps the blame is mine. Perhaps the family cannot ascertain the stress of my schedule because I speak of it in such generic terms—and even plan weekend trips to visit. So the primary lesson learned from this weekend’s trip is that I must be a better communicator.
Chester (my cat) is curled up in my open suitcase. The half unpacked suitcase seems to be a metaphor for my life. I am half way through this curriculum; too late to quit, too soon to finish. So much is in limbo. Am I packing? Or unpacking? If I had the time, could I find the energy to finish doing either? This evening, that is doubtful. Instead, there’s a pot of coffee brewing. It will be my partner in the long night ahead. I will read, outline, study; and, when my mind wonders, I will reminisce about the weekend in North Carolina, calculate its cost, remember its lesson, and hope I can recover....or find someplace else for that suitcase to take me.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
24
6:30 a.m. Sleep late; skip classes. Going to Richmond today to interview for a summer associate position. Walk the dog
7:00 a.m. To the gym for a workout
8:00 a.m. Review interview schedule and directions to office. Review firm website and bios of all six interviewers. Review potential interview questions from Monster.com. Draft questions to ask at interview so that I can appear “spontaneous” and “engaging” instead of “mortified” and “desperate.” Print an extra copy of the resume and school transcript to take with me.
9:45 a.m. No time to waste; get in the shower
10:45 a.m. Eat "lunch" before leaving so that I will not have to (1) stop to eat and (2) spill anything on myself.
10:55 a.m. Pop a Xanax. Begin travel to Richmond.
11:15 a.m. Attempt to listen to class lectures, but it is information overload; have to resort to mindless chatter on radio. Finally drive in silence and practice answering interview questions. Practice asking interview questions
12:50 p.m. Get ripped off by 75¢ toll that takes four quarters to open gate. Probably my fault.
1:05 p.m. Get ripped off again by 40¢ toll that takes five dimes to open gate. Now convinced it's a conspiracy.
1:15 p.m. Take the wrong exit.
1:20 p.m. Have to pay 25¢ at toll booth to get back on highway. Dammit!
1:30 p.m. Arrive in Richmond. Realize that height limit for parking garage is 6’ 0”, which is not conducive to my truck, which is 6’ 7”. (Note to self: Buy a sports car if I receive the summer associate position.)
1:35 p.m. Circle downtown Richmond searching for parking. Realize parking decks in Richmond must have been constructed before SUVs were stylish. Wonder why half of downtown Richmond is under construction. Whisper prayer of thanks that Xanax has kicked in, which is apparent from the fact that I am not plastered to the roof of the truck as a result of this serious parking dilemma.
1:45 p.m. Finally locate parking several blocks away. Deposit $1 in parking meter for two-hour parking. Begin long walk to office building.
1:55 p.m. Arrive at reception desk. Start smiling.
2:00 p.m. Interviews begin.
5:20 p.m. Interviews end.
5:25 p.m. Stop smiling.
5:30 p.m. Locate truck (no parking tickets; yea!). Head for home. Attempt to merge into downtown Richmond rush-hour traffic.
5:55 p.m. Pretend like I know where I'm going.
6:00 p.m. Wrong exit. Trapped on the parking lot called I-95 going in the wrong direction
Make good use of the downtime by consulting the atlas. (Daddy always said to keep an atlas in the car. Thanks, Dad!)
6:30 p.m. Point the truck in the direction of Lynchburg and set cruise control.
6:35 p.m. Occupy travel time with telephone calls to friends to review interview details.
7:00 p.m. Drive thru
9:00 p.m. Arrive in Lynchburg. Go to grocery store to buy items to make cupcakes.
9:30 p.m. Arrive at home
9:31 p.m. Peel off pantyhose.
9:45 p.m. More phone calls. Seriously trying to stay awake.
10:00 p.m. Go to bed. Lulled to sleep by the throbbing of my feet.
2:30 a.m. Get up. Bake cupcakes and make homemade icing for birthday party. (Seriously, what else would I be doing at 2:30 a.m.?)
3:30 a.m. Prep for classes.
6:00 a.m. Walk the dog
6:30 a.m. In the shower.
7:00 a.m. To the gym for a workout
8:00 a.m. Review interview schedule and directions to office. Review firm website and bios of all six interviewers. Review potential interview questions from Monster.com. Draft questions to ask at interview so that I can appear “spontaneous” and “engaging” instead of “mortified” and “desperate.” Print an extra copy of the resume and school transcript to take with me.
9:45 a.m. No time to waste; get in the shower
10:45 a.m. Eat "lunch" before leaving so that I will not have to (1) stop to eat and (2) spill anything on myself.
10:55 a.m. Pop a Xanax. Begin travel to Richmond.
11:15 a.m. Attempt to listen to class lectures, but it is information overload; have to resort to mindless chatter on radio. Finally drive in silence and practice answering interview questions. Practice asking interview questions
12:50 p.m. Get ripped off by 75¢ toll that takes four quarters to open gate. Probably my fault.
1:05 p.m. Get ripped off again by 40¢ toll that takes five dimes to open gate. Now convinced it's a conspiracy.
1:15 p.m. Take the wrong exit.
1:20 p.m. Have to pay 25¢ at toll booth to get back on highway. Dammit!
1:30 p.m. Arrive in Richmond. Realize that height limit for parking garage is 6’ 0”, which is not conducive to my truck, which is 6’ 7”. (Note to self: Buy a sports car if I receive the summer associate position.)
1:35 p.m. Circle downtown Richmond searching for parking. Realize parking decks in Richmond must have been constructed before SUVs were stylish. Wonder why half of downtown Richmond is under construction. Whisper prayer of thanks that Xanax has kicked in, which is apparent from the fact that I am not plastered to the roof of the truck as a result of this serious parking dilemma.
1:45 p.m. Finally locate parking several blocks away. Deposit $1 in parking meter for two-hour parking. Begin long walk to office building.
1:55 p.m. Arrive at reception desk. Start smiling.
2:00 p.m. Interviews begin.
5:20 p.m. Interviews end.
5:25 p.m. Stop smiling.
5:30 p.m. Locate truck (no parking tickets; yea!). Head for home. Attempt to merge into downtown Richmond rush-hour traffic.
5:55 p.m. Pretend like I know where I'm going.
6:00 p.m. Wrong exit. Trapped on the parking lot called I-95 going in the wrong direction
Make good use of the downtime by consulting the atlas. (Daddy always said to keep an atlas in the car. Thanks, Dad!)
6:30 p.m. Point the truck in the direction of Lynchburg and set cruise control.
6:35 p.m. Occupy travel time with telephone calls to friends to review interview details.
7:00 p.m. Drive thru
9:00 p.m. Arrive in Lynchburg. Go to grocery store to buy items to make cupcakes.
9:30 p.m. Arrive at home
9:31 p.m. Peel off pantyhose.
9:45 p.m. More phone calls. Seriously trying to stay awake.
10:00 p.m. Go to bed. Lulled to sleep by the throbbing of my feet.
2:30 a.m. Get up. Bake cupcakes and make homemade icing for birthday party. (Seriously, what else would I be doing at 2:30 a.m.?)
3:30 a.m. Prep for classes.
6:00 a.m. Walk the dog
6:30 a.m. In the shower.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
....and you will be called Note.
For those who missed the joyous occasion, I gave birth last week. As with most deliveries, there was a lot of panting, sweating, screaming, and pain. But, when I gazed at my precious baby, I could honestly say that every moment was worth it.
At 6:37 p.m. on Friday, September 14, I delivered a healthy Note idea to the Law Review Editorial Board, weighing in at 6 2/3 pages. The editorial board immediately examined the Note idea to ensure that it had a proper question for inquiry, initial annotated bibliography, and preliminary outline.
As a new parent, I was very relieved to learn that the Note idea was healthy from head to toe. Of course, this is only the beginning of Note idea's life, and I realize that Note idea may not survive the editorial board's further scrutiny and inquiry. For now, though, just the thought of Note idea resting peacefully in the law review suite--huddled up next to the other Note ideas--warms the cockles of my heart.
Shortly after Note idea's delivery, I was discharged from the library and headed straight for home. It wasn't difficult to determine why I was so tired--exhausted even. After taking a few Motrin and a Xanax, I was in bed by 7:30 p.m., knowing that I would need all of my strength in the coming days to help Note idea grow into a strong, healthy, strapping Note. And, I promise that, when Note idea has finally blossomed into Note, everyone of you will be there as well to share in that wonderful event.
At 6:37 p.m. on Friday, September 14, I delivered a healthy Note idea to the Law Review Editorial Board, weighing in at 6 2/3 pages. The editorial board immediately examined the Note idea to ensure that it had a proper question for inquiry, initial annotated bibliography, and preliminary outline.
As a new parent, I was very relieved to learn that the Note idea was healthy from head to toe. Of course, this is only the beginning of Note idea's life, and I realize that Note idea may not survive the editorial board's further scrutiny and inquiry. For now, though, just the thought of Note idea resting peacefully in the law review suite--huddled up next to the other Note ideas--warms the cockles of my heart.
Shortly after Note idea's delivery, I was discharged from the library and headed straight for home. It wasn't difficult to determine why I was so tired--exhausted even. After taking a few Motrin and a Xanax, I was in bed by 7:30 p.m., knowing that I would need all of my strength in the coming days to help Note idea grow into a strong, healthy, strapping Note. And, I promise that, when Note idea has finally blossomed into Note, everyone of you will be there as well to share in that wonderful event.
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
The Hurricane Known as "Year Two"
Famous law school adage: Year one, they scare you to death; year two, they work you to death; and year three, they bore you to death. I am blessed to be beginning year two and am well on my way to being worked to death, for sure.
It's hard to believe that this is the beginning of the third week of the semester. I have been busy with school and related activities every day for the past three weeks, including Saturdays and Sundays. Simply put, there just are not enough hours in the day. Last night I slept four hours; that was a blessing!
I will admit that some of my work is self-inflicted. For instance, I volunteered to work for Westlaw as the student representative. It only requires five to ten hours per week, and that commitment seemed inconsequential when I made it. Learning point: No commitment of time is inconsequential in law school.
I also have continued working as a Research Assistant for the law school professor. The work and hours are not too demanding. Obviously the professor knows the demands of a 2L student; however, I still feel compelled to push myself and work the maximum number of hours per week on his various projects. I have resigned myself to the fact, though, that before I work myself into delirium, this will be the first responsibility that I relinquish should my grades (or health) start to suffer.
As I have mentioned in a prior post, I am also working as a law review candidate. Within a few short weeks I will submit my proposal for my fall writing commitment to law review. This will take up a great deal of time the remainder of this semester, but the goal is to complete a Note that is publishable (even if not published) and to be invited to join as a law review "member" during spring semester.
Today I will appear in court at 5:00 p.m. to be sworn in as a CASA Volunteer. Afterward, I will be assigned a case involving child abuse or neglect. It will be my responsibility to investigate the case and prepare a report for the court. I will also make court appearances on behalf of abused or neglected children.
Most recently I have added one more extra curricular activity that I am most proud of: I have been invited to mentor a group of law students. At LU SOL, mentors "volunteer" for the job, but they are only "invited" to mentor based upon their class ranking and maturity. We have a new Student Affairs Liaison who has some wonderful ideas for the mentoring program. Her basic idea is that no student "drifts" through law school. Instead, we grow together, we lean on each other, and we learn from each other. Our mentoring program kicks off later this week, so I'll have to keep you informed of how it progresses.
And, when time permits, I will blog about an upcoming job interview.
Yikes! My life, my schedule, and my commitments are so insane. If I were to get a satellite view of all of it, I fear it would look like a hurricane--definitely a Category 5 that we will name Year Two. Growing up near the coast of North Carolina, I have ridden out a few storms in my life. I think they will pale in comparison. This one is going to be ferocious! But I'm too stubborn to move out of its way, so bring on the storm.
It's hard to believe that this is the beginning of the third week of the semester. I have been busy with school and related activities every day for the past three weeks, including Saturdays and Sundays. Simply put, there just are not enough hours in the day. Last night I slept four hours; that was a blessing!
I will admit that some of my work is self-inflicted. For instance, I volunteered to work for Westlaw as the student representative. It only requires five to ten hours per week, and that commitment seemed inconsequential when I made it. Learning point: No commitment of time is inconsequential in law school.
I also have continued working as a Research Assistant for the law school professor. The work and hours are not too demanding. Obviously the professor knows the demands of a 2L student; however, I still feel compelled to push myself and work the maximum number of hours per week on his various projects. I have resigned myself to the fact, though, that before I work myself into delirium, this will be the first responsibility that I relinquish should my grades (or health) start to suffer.
As I have mentioned in a prior post, I am also working as a law review candidate. Within a few short weeks I will submit my proposal for my fall writing commitment to law review. This will take up a great deal of time the remainder of this semester, but the goal is to complete a Note that is publishable (even if not published) and to be invited to join as a law review "member" during spring semester.
Today I will appear in court at 5:00 p.m. to be sworn in as a CASA Volunteer. Afterward, I will be assigned a case involving child abuse or neglect. It will be my responsibility to investigate the case and prepare a report for the court. I will also make court appearances on behalf of abused or neglected children.
Most recently I have added one more extra curricular activity that I am most proud of: I have been invited to mentor a group of law students. At LU SOL, mentors "volunteer" for the job, but they are only "invited" to mentor based upon their class ranking and maturity. We have a new Student Affairs Liaison who has some wonderful ideas for the mentoring program. Her basic idea is that no student "drifts" through law school. Instead, we grow together, we lean on each other, and we learn from each other. Our mentoring program kicks off later this week, so I'll have to keep you informed of how it progresses.
And, when time permits, I will blog about an upcoming job interview.
Yikes! My life, my schedule, and my commitments are so insane. If I were to get a satellite view of all of it, I fear it would look like a hurricane--definitely a Category 5 that we will name Year Two. Growing up near the coast of North Carolina, I have ridden out a few storms in my life. I think they will pale in comparison. This one is going to be ferocious! But I'm too stubborn to move out of its way, so bring on the storm.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
It's four in the morning . . . and I'm not Gwen Stefani
In less than one week I will be back in class. It has been so much fun to chat about being a 2L. This weekend many of my classmates returned “home,” and we had a wonderful get-together Saturday night. It was so good to see those friendly faces. We spent several hours around a dinner table just reminiscing our last year and making predictions about the humiliations we will suffer this year as well.
Our class has so much personality. We have young and old. We have geniuses (literally) . . . and then the rest of us. We have the loud, the quiet, the flamboyant, and reserved. We know that the 3Ls envy our camaraderie. For whatever reason, their class just hasn’t meshed like ours. We are all one even though we are each unique.
And now that the new semester is only a few days away, my schedule is already starting to spin itself out of control. There are still books to buy. Last year’s files need to be put in storage to make way for the 2L files that will occupy their space. There are still books to sell from last year. My desk is a mess; I think it’s symbolic of all that’s going on in my head right now. I have a list of “things to do” that covers the front and back of a page. Not to mention that it’s recruiting season for 2Ls.
The recruiting season has my stomach in knots. I know that a lot is riding on the 2L recruiting season. In a perfect world, my 2L summer internship will be sealed by Christmas, it will be in the perfect geographic location, and it will be a perfect fit for my interests and talents (whatever they might be). But Christmas is 20 weeks away, and there is much work to do just to get some firm, government office, or nonprofit to take a look at me. This is the cause of so much stress, and there’s little I can do to relieve it at this time, other than target the right employers, pray and be patient.
Then there’s law review. As I continue to work on the first cite checking assignment, and as the deadline is looming for my work to be done, I can already see what a tremendous commitment this is going to take. I’m even finding it difficult to find time to read the Law Review Handbook, which is 137 pages. Not to mention the hundreds of pages that I still need to read for the CASA work that I have volunteered to perform. Hmmm….I wonder if I’ve over-committed….again? This reminds me of the classic definition of “insanity,” i.e., doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.
So, it’s four in the morning, one week before class, and I am already stressed. There are so many concerns. A lot is riding on this semester. I need to work diligently on lining up a summer internship. I must prove myself to the editors and senior staff of law review, which means cite checking articles of others, and then researching and writing an article of my own for publication. I must also maintain my GPA; I cannot slip in my class ranking if I intend to get a decent internship.
Oh, the irony: Classes haven’t even started, and I am already stressed. There are so many things that are out of my control. There are so many dark shadows and unknowns. There’s a definite need for a greater measure of faith and peace. There are no easy answers; there is no simple solution. Rather, it’s going to be a daily commitment to give everything I have, to hand over everything that I am. It is a 24/7 commitment of 16 weeks. And then, should I fail, it will not be from lack of effort.
Does this help me? Or ease the stress? Will it allow me to finally get some rest? Unfortunately--even at four in the morning--the answer is no. The entire conversation that I have posted here just continues to replay in my head. In less than one week I will be back in class . . . my schedule is spinning out of control . . . recruiting season has my stomach in knots . . . then there’s law review . . . and it’s four in the morning . . .
Our class has so much personality. We have young and old. We have geniuses (literally) . . . and then the rest of us. We have the loud, the quiet, the flamboyant, and reserved. We know that the 3Ls envy our camaraderie. For whatever reason, their class just hasn’t meshed like ours. We are all one even though we are each unique.
And now that the new semester is only a few days away, my schedule is already starting to spin itself out of control. There are still books to buy. Last year’s files need to be put in storage to make way for the 2L files that will occupy their space. There are still books to sell from last year. My desk is a mess; I think it’s symbolic of all that’s going on in my head right now. I have a list of “things to do” that covers the front and back of a page. Not to mention that it’s recruiting season for 2Ls.
The recruiting season has my stomach in knots. I know that a lot is riding on the 2L recruiting season. In a perfect world, my 2L summer internship will be sealed by Christmas, it will be in the perfect geographic location, and it will be a perfect fit for my interests and talents (whatever they might be). But Christmas is 20 weeks away, and there is much work to do just to get some firm, government office, or nonprofit to take a look at me. This is the cause of so much stress, and there’s little I can do to relieve it at this time, other than target the right employers, pray and be patient.
Then there’s law review. As I continue to work on the first cite checking assignment, and as the deadline is looming for my work to be done, I can already see what a tremendous commitment this is going to take. I’m even finding it difficult to find time to read the Law Review Handbook, which is 137 pages. Not to mention the hundreds of pages that I still need to read for the CASA work that I have volunteered to perform. Hmmm….I wonder if I’ve over-committed….again? This reminds me of the classic definition of “insanity,” i.e., doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.
So, it’s four in the morning, one week before class, and I am already stressed. There are so many concerns. A lot is riding on this semester. I need to work diligently on lining up a summer internship. I must prove myself to the editors and senior staff of law review, which means cite checking articles of others, and then researching and writing an article of my own for publication. I must also maintain my GPA; I cannot slip in my class ranking if I intend to get a decent internship.
Oh, the irony: Classes haven’t even started, and I am already stressed. There are so many things that are out of my control. There are so many dark shadows and unknowns. There’s a definite need for a greater measure of faith and peace. There are no easy answers; there is no simple solution. Rather, it’s going to be a daily commitment to give everything I have, to hand over everything that I am. It is a 24/7 commitment of 16 weeks. And then, should I fail, it will not be from lack of effort.
Does this help me? Or ease the stress? Will it allow me to finally get some rest? Unfortunately--even at four in the morning--the answer is no. The entire conversation that I have posted here just continues to replay in my head. In less than one week I will be back in class . . . my schedule is spinning out of control . . . recruiting season has my stomach in knots . . . then there’s law review . . . and it’s four in the morning . . .
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
The Big News!
The big news of late is that I have been invited to join law review. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this legal jargon, first, you should consider that a blessing. But, just for the record, law review is a journal containing scholarly articles, essays, and other commentary on legal topics by professors, judges, law students, and practitioners.
Law reviews are usually published at law schools and edited by law students. The legal profession is the only one of its kind where the students actually publish the scholarly work. For instance, medical journals are published by health care professionals, not med school students. But, most of the time, the research conducted by these health care professionals could not have been possible without the assistance of an army of students; and, without the research, the article would never reach publication.
Most law schools publish their law review volumes several times a year. It is our chief editor’s goal to publish three times this year. This, and other fun details, were included in the 130+ page handbook that we received with our invitation to join law review. We are expected to review the handbook before we return to classes, and use it as a reference tool throughout the semester.
Not long after accepting the invitation to join law review, I received an e-mail referencing my first “cite-checking” assignment. Cite-checking is the grunt work of law review; and, thus, it is delegated to the new candidates (like me). I would not say this out loud, but I actually enjoy the cite checking process. For instance, the article that I am working on has been written by a professor. He has included 365 footnote references. Each of these references must be verified. The law review staff divides the work and assigns a portion of the footnotes to each staff member. It is my task to (1) find the source, (2) verify the source, and (3) make a copy of the source material before the article can be published.
Other than cite-checking articles, the other major project that I will be assigned this year will be the composition of an article for the law review, which is called a Note. A Note is a comprehensive analysis of a recent significant case, statute, or administrative regulation. Most Notes include a historical examination of the legal issues involved, an examination of the court’s holding and its legal significance, and the writer’s analysis or proposed solution. The Note must be a minimum of 20 pages and include at least 100 footnotes. It is estimated that a Note takes approximately 150 hours to write.
During my second year on law review (and I hope that there is a second year) I will be required to write a Comment. A Comment focuses on a specific legal issue and analyzes the pertinent cases, statutes, law review commentary, and other materials. Comments conclude with an alternative approach to the problem, such as a model statute. Traditionally, Comments are less descriptive and more analytical than Notes. Through a Comment, a writer seeks to resolve a conflict in the law, such as a circuit split. The Comment must be a minimum of 30 pages.
If it sounds like a lot of work, then I have done a good job of conveying that point. Law review is a tremendous amount of work. But, it makes you a better law student, and it makes you very marketable as a young attorney. For instance, some firms will only grant interviews to those who have served on law review. This is a tremendous responsibility, but I am very excited to have this opportunity. All too soon we will find out how many hours of sleep this "big news" is going to cost me.
Law reviews are usually published at law schools and edited by law students. The legal profession is the only one of its kind where the students actually publish the scholarly work. For instance, medical journals are published by health care professionals, not med school students. But, most of the time, the research conducted by these health care professionals could not have been possible without the assistance of an army of students; and, without the research, the article would never reach publication.
Most law schools publish their law review volumes several times a year. It is our chief editor’s goal to publish three times this year. This, and other fun details, were included in the 130+ page handbook that we received with our invitation to join law review. We are expected to review the handbook before we return to classes, and use it as a reference tool throughout the semester.
Not long after accepting the invitation to join law review, I received an e-mail referencing my first “cite-checking” assignment. Cite-checking is the grunt work of law review; and, thus, it is delegated to the new candidates (like me). I would not say this out loud, but I actually enjoy the cite checking process. For instance, the article that I am working on has been written by a professor. He has included 365 footnote references. Each of these references must be verified. The law review staff divides the work and assigns a portion of the footnotes to each staff member. It is my task to (1) find the source, (2) verify the source, and (3) make a copy of the source material before the article can be published.
Other than cite-checking articles, the other major project that I will be assigned this year will be the composition of an article for the law review, which is called a Note. A Note is a comprehensive analysis of a recent significant case, statute, or administrative regulation. Most Notes include a historical examination of the legal issues involved, an examination of the court’s holding and its legal significance, and the writer’s analysis or proposed solution. The Note must be a minimum of 20 pages and include at least 100 footnotes. It is estimated that a Note takes approximately 150 hours to write.
During my second year on law review (and I hope that there is a second year) I will be required to write a Comment. A Comment focuses on a specific legal issue and analyzes the pertinent cases, statutes, law review commentary, and other materials. Comments conclude with an alternative approach to the problem, such as a model statute. Traditionally, Comments are less descriptive and more analytical than Notes. Through a Comment, a writer seeks to resolve a conflict in the law, such as a circuit split. The Comment must be a minimum of 30 pages.
If it sounds like a lot of work, then I have done a good job of conveying that point. Law review is a tremendous amount of work. But, it makes you a better law student, and it makes you very marketable as a young attorney. For instance, some firms will only grant interviews to those who have served on law review. This is a tremendous responsibility, but I am very excited to have this opportunity. All too soon we will find out how many hours of sleep this "big news" is going to cost me.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
1L Quotes: Part II
I love quotes. Perhaps if this law school thing doesn’t work out, I might publish a book of my favorite quotes with chapters like Spiritual, Famous, Personal, Funny, Friendship, Life, etc. But, until I find time to work on that project, I have included another installment of favorite quotes from the 1L year of law school. I hope that they are as humorous to you as they are to me.
I have much more to report on the blog but just don’t have the time to do it right now; but, before classes begin in August, I promise a complete update. Until then, enjoy a glimpse of the ironic statements that get glued inside my head:
"Toner. What is toner? And how might one procure it?" 1L K. Taylor. Such a sweet young girl who is a great friend, BUT she readily admits that she hasn’t had too many responsibilities in her short, privileged life.
Prof T: We don’t want you becoming experts in the law.
My response: Did I make a wrong turn; this is law school, right?
“I don’t mention Florida a lot, but I will in this setting” – Famous quote from very intelligent professor who once practiced in Florida . . . and subconsciously mentions Florida five to seven times per class period.
“We would hire her, but we'd have to put a sack over her head.” – Prof B referring to model who sued when facial surgery severed nerves in her face. He said this with a straight face, and I blew Coke threw my nose.
“Normally I don’t like to say ‘Okay – here’s what you ought to believe.’ But today, I have an agenda” – From this professor, this is the understatement of the year. He always has an agenda which is as apparent as an elephant in the room; and his “agenda” is always the same, i.e., to tell us what we ought to believe.
“This case was about one word. ‘Slut.’ … Now let’s go through the elements.” Prof B. I really have to quit drinking Coke in class; it burns after it’s blown through the nose more than once a day.
The student "most likely to succeed" in any law school is the brightest asshole. --Walt Bachman, J.D., Author of What Lawyers Are Afraid to Say About the Legal Profession. Good read sent to me this year by one of my favorite lawyers (and people).
I have much more to report on the blog but just don’t have the time to do it right now; but, before classes begin in August, I promise a complete update. Until then, enjoy a glimpse of the ironic statements that get glued inside my head:
"Toner. What is toner? And how might one procure it?" 1L K. Taylor. Such a sweet young girl who is a great friend, BUT she readily admits that she hasn’t had too many responsibilities in her short, privileged life.
Prof T: We don’t want you becoming experts in the law.
My response: Did I make a wrong turn; this is law school, right?
“I don’t mention Florida a lot, but I will in this setting” – Famous quote from very intelligent professor who once practiced in Florida . . . and subconsciously mentions Florida five to seven times per class period.
“We would hire her, but we'd have to put a sack over her head.” – Prof B referring to model who sued when facial surgery severed nerves in her face. He said this with a straight face, and I blew Coke threw my nose.
“Normally I don’t like to say ‘Okay – here’s what you ought to believe.’ But today, I have an agenda” – From this professor, this is the understatement of the year. He always has an agenda which is as apparent as an elephant in the room; and his “agenda” is always the same, i.e., to tell us what we ought to believe.
“This case was about one word. ‘Slut.’ … Now let’s go through the elements.” Prof B. I really have to quit drinking Coke in class; it burns after it’s blown through the nose more than once a day.
The student "most likely to succeed" in any law school is the brightest asshole. --Walt Bachman, J.D., Author of What Lawyers Are Afraid to Say About the Legal Profession. Good read sent to me this year by one of my favorite lawyers (and people).
Thursday, July 12, 2007
She is gone, again.
I don't need to recount for you how gut-wrenching it was to take my daughter to college, drop her off, and leave. I cried the entire three-hour trip home. Little did we know--in August '05--that I would be enrolling at the same college in one year in order to attend law school. But, even though we were attending the same school, we chose not to live together. She had her life on campus in the residence hall; I secured a nice apartment close to campus, and we were both happy with that arrangement until....the entire story is just too long and boring to tell, but the synopsis is this: life became so unbearable in the dorm during the fall semester of her sophomore year that she was ready to move out and move anywhere. The logical solution was that she should move into my apartment until she had time to think about other options. So, between final exams and Christmas break, my daughter joined me, the dog, and the cat in our cozy little home.
Over time we all grew accustomed to living with one another again. We developed our work and school routines. We collaborated on shopping lists and cooking meals. We would occasionally indulge in a movie and popcorn. We would paint each other's toe nails. We'd freely advise one another about whether "those shoes really match that outfit." And we'd gripe about who took out the trash last and why "I" always have to take out the trash. We'd grumble and nag when the house got too messy, and we'd prefer deep conversation to deep cleaning.
Life wasn't perfect, but it was nice. It was nice to come home to another human being. It was nice to know that someone else could pick up my slack. It was nice to have someone to depend on, and it was nice to feel needed by someone as well.
Tonight, in the silence of this apartment, I'm pondering how nice it really was. Last weekend I helped my daughter move into her new place. She and some friends are renting a townhome. It is close by; just a few miles up the road. Nevertheless, she is gone, again. She came back just long enough for me to grow accustomed to her being her, and then she is gone again.
I know that it is truly best for her to be living with girls her own age and with girls who share her interest. And I will enjoy having a quiet house to come home to when the fall semester gets underway. But, today, I'm just trying to get accustomed to the quiet house and the fact that she is gone, again.
Over time we all grew accustomed to living with one another again. We developed our work and school routines. We collaborated on shopping lists and cooking meals. We would occasionally indulge in a movie and popcorn. We would paint each other's toe nails. We'd freely advise one another about whether "those shoes really match that outfit." And we'd gripe about who took out the trash last and why "I" always have to take out the trash. We'd grumble and nag when the house got too messy, and we'd prefer deep conversation to deep cleaning.
Life wasn't perfect, but it was nice. It was nice to come home to another human being. It was nice to know that someone else could pick up my slack. It was nice to have someone to depend on, and it was nice to feel needed by someone as well.
Tonight, in the silence of this apartment, I'm pondering how nice it really was. Last weekend I helped my daughter move into her new place. She and some friends are renting a townhome. It is close by; just a few miles up the road. Nevertheless, she is gone, again. She came back just long enough for me to grow accustomed to her being her, and then she is gone again.
I know that it is truly best for her to be living with girls her own age and with girls who share her interest. And I will enjoy having a quiet house to come home to when the fall semester gets underway. But, today, I'm just trying to get accustomed to the quiet house and the fact that she is gone, again.
Friday, June 29, 2007
The girl inside the woman
There's a girl inside the woman
who's waiting to get free.
She's washed a million dishes;
she's always making tea.
They think she's just a mother
with nothing left inside
who swapped her dreams for drudgery
the day she was a bride.
But the dreams were not forgotten
Just wrapped and packed away
in the hope that she could take them out
and dust them off one day
There's a girl inside the woman
and the mother she became
and half-remembered songs
come to her lips again.
The girl would sing the melody
but the woman stands in doubt
and wonders what the price would be
for letting the young girl out.
--Blood Brothers
Sunday, June 24, 2007
A time to work, a time to rest
My GPA dropped this semester from 3.11 to 3.02; this resulted in my class rank dropping from 10 to 12. Fortunately I am still in the top 20% of the class. Of course, I would have rather improved, but I am still happy with my class ranking (and hope that it doesn't slip anymore). I also found out this week that I "booked" Torts, which means that I had the best exam grade. (Those with the best grade get a "book award.") So, in spite of the slight drop, I'm still celebrating (and contemplating how I can do better next year).
I have just completed my first full week of work, and my one-word synopsis of the week's schedule is "exhausting!" I thought that after surviving two semesters in law school, work would be a lot like vacation. Well, in some ways it is not as intensive or demanding. Obviously I do not have to "study" the night before going to work. And my work is not labor intensive. However, the work that I am doing is still mentally challenging, and it requires a great deal of concentration. And, rather than sitting for two to three hours a day (in class), I am concentrating and researching for eight hours a day. Afterward, my mind is fried!
On Wednesdays I spend the day at the Commonwealth Attorney's office. Last Wednesday was my first full day there. My day consisted of reading a lot of material about the different programs offered through the office (e.g., community court, victim/witness assistance, juvenile court, etc.). I also spent a few hours in juvenile court. On Friday I returned to the office to volunteer as an evaluator for community court. Community court is an new, innovative solution to non-violent first offenders. If you'd like to know more about it, here's a link to the Commonwealth Attorney's webpage about community court.
The most significant difference between work and school is that I am (thankfully) getting more sleep. My day starts at about 5:30 a.m. By the time I take care of the pets, do some inspirational reading, and light exercise, it's time to get ready for work. After work I change clothes and do some serious exercising; then it's time for a quick, light dinner. It's typically 7:00 p.m. before I get home for the night. Some nights I have time to read; and some nights I am in bed by 9:00 p.m. My personal goal is to be in bed no later than 11:00 p.m., and I have met that goal most nights this summer.
Have you yawned yet? I know, it's not the most exciting schedule, but I am so thankful for the opportunities I have this summer to hone my research skills, meet attorneys and local bar members through the Commonwealth Attorney's office, and the luxury of having a few hours a day to take care of my physical, mental, and spiritual needs as well. I am also most thankful for the wonderful gift of sleep. It's been approximately one month since exams, and I am finally feeling rested. This morning, even before I put together my thoughts for this blog, I was reminded of the wisdom of Solomon's words, "there is an appointed time for everything." In the first few days of this summer season I have found time to celebrate, time to contemplate, time to read, time to exercise, time to work, and time to rest. And I'm thankful for each of those opportunities.
I have just completed my first full week of work, and my one-word synopsis of the week's schedule is "exhausting!" I thought that after surviving two semesters in law school, work would be a lot like vacation. Well, in some ways it is not as intensive or demanding. Obviously I do not have to "study" the night before going to work. And my work is not labor intensive. However, the work that I am doing is still mentally challenging, and it requires a great deal of concentration. And, rather than sitting for two to three hours a day (in class), I am concentrating and researching for eight hours a day. Afterward, my mind is fried!
On Wednesdays I spend the day at the Commonwealth Attorney's office. Last Wednesday was my first full day there. My day consisted of reading a lot of material about the different programs offered through the office (e.g., community court, victim/witness assistance, juvenile court, etc.). I also spent a few hours in juvenile court. On Friday I returned to the office to volunteer as an evaluator for community court. Community court is an new, innovative solution to non-violent first offenders. If you'd like to know more about it, here's a link to the Commonwealth Attorney's webpage about community court.
The most significant difference between work and school is that I am (thankfully) getting more sleep. My day starts at about 5:30 a.m. By the time I take care of the pets, do some inspirational reading, and light exercise, it's time to get ready for work. After work I change clothes and do some serious exercising; then it's time for a quick, light dinner. It's typically 7:00 p.m. before I get home for the night. Some nights I have time to read; and some nights I am in bed by 9:00 p.m. My personal goal is to be in bed no later than 11:00 p.m., and I have met that goal most nights this summer.
Have you yawned yet? I know, it's not the most exciting schedule, but I am so thankful for the opportunities I have this summer to hone my research skills, meet attorneys and local bar members through the Commonwealth Attorney's office, and the luxury of having a few hours a day to take care of my physical, mental, and spiritual needs as well. I am also most thankful for the wonderful gift of sleep. It's been approximately one month since exams, and I am finally feeling rested. This morning, even before I put together my thoughts for this blog, I was reminded of the wisdom of Solomon's words, "there is an appointed time for everything." In the first few days of this summer season I have found time to celebrate, time to contemplate, time to read, time to exercise, time to work, and time to rest. And I'm thankful for each of those opportunities.
Friday, June 15, 2007
So much to do, so little time
Today is one of the best days of my summer vacation (to date). Today is the day that I finalized and submitted the Note to the law review write-on competition. What I had hoped would only take two or three days, took the entire week. I do hope that missing a week of work is worth it. For better or worse, though, the Note is submitted and the decision is out of my hands. I obviously would like a seat on law review, but I am going to put it out of my mind so that waiting for the results will not drive me to the brink of insanity.
Today was also a great day because I returned to the Commonwealth Attorney's Office to meet many of the staff, get my ID card, and prepare for my first official day of work next week. I am not sure how many 1Ls interviewed for this internship or how many may have turned it down, but I am quite happy that I was offered this opportunity. The Commonwealth Attorney has hired a few other LU law students and I think he has been pleased with their work; this is quite an accomplishment for such a young school.
I can't recall all of the stuff that they said I'd do this summer, but some of it included days in court (of course), interviewing witnesses and victims, listening to 911 calls for excited utterances or other statements that could be useful at trial, visiting the jail and the juvenile detention center, and drafting briefs and orders. It all sounds so overwhelming, but also very exciting.
Next week I return to the law school to continue researching for the professor. At the present time, my work at the Commonwealth Attorney's office will be one day per week. Starting next week I am also going to devote at least one night per week to the CASA training materials. I would like to complete all of the assignments (in this huge 3" binder) so that will be another monkey off my back.
But before next week, I plan on having a great weekend. I plan on exercising. Oh how I have conveniently ignored that task. It was just too easy to get up in the morning, brew a pot of coffee, and sit at the desk all day...except while grazing in the kitchen. So exercise is going to move up quite a few notches on my priority list.
I also plan to do some reading for pleasure. First, I am going to read a newspaper. Oh, you just don't know how indulgent it is to do something simple like read a newspaper! Then, I am going to start a new book. I was able to read a book while on the cruise, and I'm not sure which was the bigger luxury (i.e., reading a book or taking the cruise). One of the few things that kept me sane during the insanity of spring semester was the "summer book list" that I started. Oh, there are about ten "must read" books on my list, and I hope I can read them all.
One of the more unpleasant chores that I must tackle this weekend is cleaning. I have no idea what critters have taken up residence under my bed, but I hope to have this little abode sparkling by Saturday night.
I'm sure that after you've read about all of the thrilling things I plan on doing with my summer (e.g., exercise, work, read, clean), you are yawning with excitement! But, I have to confess that every one of these things is such a luxury that I can't wait to get started. I hope that your summer plans are just as thrilling to you!
PS: Grades for spring semester are posted, but the class rankings are not. I'll follow up with news as soon as possible.
Today was also a great day because I returned to the Commonwealth Attorney's Office to meet many of the staff, get my ID card, and prepare for my first official day of work next week. I am not sure how many 1Ls interviewed for this internship or how many may have turned it down, but I am quite happy that I was offered this opportunity. The Commonwealth Attorney has hired a few other LU law students and I think he has been pleased with their work; this is quite an accomplishment for such a young school.
I can't recall all of the stuff that they said I'd do this summer, but some of it included days in court (of course), interviewing witnesses and victims, listening to 911 calls for excited utterances or other statements that could be useful at trial, visiting the jail and the juvenile detention center, and drafting briefs and orders. It all sounds so overwhelming, but also very exciting.
Next week I return to the law school to continue researching for the professor. At the present time, my work at the Commonwealth Attorney's office will be one day per week. Starting next week I am also going to devote at least one night per week to the CASA training materials. I would like to complete all of the assignments (in this huge 3" binder) so that will be another monkey off my back.
But before next week, I plan on having a great weekend. I plan on exercising. Oh how I have conveniently ignored that task. It was just too easy to get up in the morning, brew a pot of coffee, and sit at the desk all day...except while grazing in the kitchen. So exercise is going to move up quite a few notches on my priority list.
I also plan to do some reading for pleasure. First, I am going to read a newspaper. Oh, you just don't know how indulgent it is to do something simple like read a newspaper! Then, I am going to start a new book. I was able to read a book while on the cruise, and I'm not sure which was the bigger luxury (i.e., reading a book or taking the cruise). One of the few things that kept me sane during the insanity of spring semester was the "summer book list" that I started. Oh, there are about ten "must read" books on my list, and I hope I can read them all.
One of the more unpleasant chores that I must tackle this weekend is cleaning. I have no idea what critters have taken up residence under my bed, but I hope to have this little abode sparkling by Saturday night.
I'm sure that after you've read about all of the thrilling things I plan on doing with my summer (e.g., exercise, work, read, clean), you are yawning with excitement! But, I have to confess that every one of these things is such a luxury that I can't wait to get started. I hope that your summer plans are just as thrilling to you!
PS: Grades for spring semester are posted, but the class rankings are not. I'll follow up with news as soon as possible.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
What's new?
Just a brief note written for two purposes: (1) to catch up on all the newsworthy happens, and (2) to help me postpone the inevitable reading and writing that must be done today. (Thanks for the diversion!)
I have just returned from a week-long cruise to the Bahamas. It was a very nice trip, but the weather was not cooperative. We were not able to dock for two days because of the waves and wind, so we were stuck on the boat in the middle of the ocean. Although there was much to do on the boat, much of it I had already done (shop, visit the spa and fitness center, read a book, etc.). I had been to the Bahamas before, so this trip wasn't as thrilling as the first; it wasn't new, ya know. Next time I cruise, it will be to some place different. I would love to eventually do the Alaskan cruise, Mediterranean cruise, and the cruise around the Hawaiian islands. In spite of the weather, the crew, service, and food was fabulous!
Now that I'm back, it's time to read and write for the law review write-on competition. The "Note" is due on Friday, June 15, so I doubt that I'll be doing anything else for the next few days other than that. Afterward, my summer will officially begin. I have several other projects in the mix for the summer, but this is the most important--and most dreaded. I plan on giving it my all and then letting it go.
That's all the news that newsworthy.
I have just returned from a week-long cruise to the Bahamas. It was a very nice trip, but the weather was not cooperative. We were not able to dock for two days because of the waves and wind, so we were stuck on the boat in the middle of the ocean. Although there was much to do on the boat, much of it I had already done (shop, visit the spa and fitness center, read a book, etc.). I had been to the Bahamas before, so this trip wasn't as thrilling as the first; it wasn't new, ya know. Next time I cruise, it will be to some place different. I would love to eventually do the Alaskan cruise, Mediterranean cruise, and the cruise around the Hawaiian islands. In spite of the weather, the crew, service, and food was fabulous!
Now that I'm back, it's time to read and write for the law review write-on competition. The "Note" is due on Friday, June 15, so I doubt that I'll be doing anything else for the next few days other than that. Afterward, my summer will officially begin. I have several other projects in the mix for the summer, but this is the most important--and most dreaded. I plan on giving it my all and then letting it go.
That's all the news that newsworthy.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Amazing weight loss story!
I have lost 100 lbs!!! Well, not literally, but it certainly feels like I have. For months I have wrestled with whether or not to transfer to another law school. This decision has involved much investigation, conversation, perspiration, and prayer. My grades are high enough that I could probably transfer to a Tier 1 school (or at least be taken seriously).
Every year, approximately five percent of law students “trickle up” to higher-rated schools. The purpose in transferring lies in the ultimate goal: to get the best job offer possible, and the best firms recruit at the best law schools. Since LU is such a new school, it is not even officially “rated” yet, and it does not have an alumni base; these are two very serious concerns when contemplating future employment for the law school’s graduates. LU is more concerned with getting “any” job offers for its graduates, not just offers from the top firms.
So, in light of these and other concerns, I have been singing the “I’m going to transfer” song for months; but, in spite of my desire to transfer, I did not want to transfer just for the sake of doing so. I did my homework, and picked out three or four prestigious schools that met my criteria. First, I only wanted to move to a school that is ranked in the top 100 (also known as a “Tier 1” school). I also wanted to stay on the east coast—in or near the south. Unlike most law students, I have two children who are also in college, and I felt compelled to only pick schools that would allow me to be near them (i.e., within driving distance). I also wanted to avoid schools in North Carolina. Even though I’m a Tarheel fan, I fear that by returning to a school in North Carolina I would greatly limit my ability to work outside of North Carolina. And, while I love to visit N. C., and I realize a lot can happen in two years, I presently have no plans of returning to the state to work. Finally, I wanted it to be a good financial decision as well in light of the fact that I had a partial scholarship this year (which will likely be a full scholarship for the 2L year based on my class ranking). Transferring could add approximately $40,000 to $80,000 to the ultimate law school debt, and that's a lot of debt!
Finally, there are many things about LU that I like—even though there are policies that drive me crazy. The reality is that there isn’t a perfect school in the perfect location with the perfect faculty and perfectly agreeable policies. And, if I’m looking for this perfect Utopia, I am going to be gravely disappointed when I realize that I’ve only traded one bag of troubles for another. Overall, I like LU. Overall, I like its philosophies. I have spent a year building relationships with my classmates (and the upper classmen). I am part of the best study group ever formulated (or so I believe). The students at this school have integrity and ethical standards that are lacking at many law schools (a fact which isn't often told on the law school's web page). For instance, I have left my laptop, ipod, thumb drive, commercial outlines, etc., at my study carrol for days and weeks, and nothing has ever been touched, moved or stolen. Another example, my colleagues do not hide books from each other; instead, we share the materials. We haven't wanted anyone to fail and we have worked together, corporately, to help those who were working hard but struggling. And, I've finally come to realize that these intangibles are more important to me than the cost of tuition or the ranking of the school.
Most importantly, in analyzing the matrix and criteria for staying or transferring, there is the most important realization that I am not on this journey alone. Law school would not have been possible without the faith and trust that I have placed in God Almighty to lead the way and light the path. He did not bring me to this place to abandon me. In spite of applying to nine different law schools and getting accepted to four, I knew that LU is where I would attend. I knew this before LU ever accepted me, so there must be some reason why I am here in spite of the fact that I do not know what awaits me in two years. I don't suppose that I need to know as long as God does and He's working all of these things out for my good. I do know how important it is to be patient and wait; almost as important as admitting that I’m not in control of any of this, so why don’t I just do my best on a daily basis and let Him handle the rest. Oh, and even though LU isn't even ranked (like I mentioned earlier) almost 70% of our graduates have jobs or job offers, which is pretty impressive for an inaugeral class of graduates from a distinctively conservative law school.
As far as I'm concerned, this decision is final. There is no looking back. Time and energy will not be wasted on one "what if." That being said, the weight has been lifted from my shoulders, and I am able to focus on my summer plans. Now if I could drop the same amount of weight from my waistline, that would be fabulous!
Every year, approximately five percent of law students “trickle up” to higher-rated schools. The purpose in transferring lies in the ultimate goal: to get the best job offer possible, and the best firms recruit at the best law schools. Since LU is such a new school, it is not even officially “rated” yet, and it does not have an alumni base; these are two very serious concerns when contemplating future employment for the law school’s graduates. LU is more concerned with getting “any” job offers for its graduates, not just offers from the top firms.
So, in light of these and other concerns, I have been singing the “I’m going to transfer” song for months; but, in spite of my desire to transfer, I did not want to transfer just for the sake of doing so. I did my homework, and picked out three or four prestigious schools that met my criteria. First, I only wanted to move to a school that is ranked in the top 100 (also known as a “Tier 1” school). I also wanted to stay on the east coast—in or near the south. Unlike most law students, I have two children who are also in college, and I felt compelled to only pick schools that would allow me to be near them (i.e., within driving distance). I also wanted to avoid schools in North Carolina. Even though I’m a Tarheel fan, I fear that by returning to a school in North Carolina I would greatly limit my ability to work outside of North Carolina. And, while I love to visit N. C., and I realize a lot can happen in two years, I presently have no plans of returning to the state to work. Finally, I wanted it to be a good financial decision as well in light of the fact that I had a partial scholarship this year (which will likely be a full scholarship for the 2L year based on my class ranking). Transferring could add approximately $40,000 to $80,000 to the ultimate law school debt, and that's a lot of debt!
Finally, there are many things about LU that I like—even though there are policies that drive me crazy. The reality is that there isn’t a perfect school in the perfect location with the perfect faculty and perfectly agreeable policies. And, if I’m looking for this perfect Utopia, I am going to be gravely disappointed when I realize that I’ve only traded one bag of troubles for another. Overall, I like LU. Overall, I like its philosophies. I have spent a year building relationships with my classmates (and the upper classmen). I am part of the best study group ever formulated (or so I believe). The students at this school have integrity and ethical standards that are lacking at many law schools (a fact which isn't often told on the law school's web page). For instance, I have left my laptop, ipod, thumb drive, commercial outlines, etc., at my study carrol for days and weeks, and nothing has ever been touched, moved or stolen. Another example, my colleagues do not hide books from each other; instead, we share the materials. We haven't wanted anyone to fail and we have worked together, corporately, to help those who were working hard but struggling. And, I've finally come to realize that these intangibles are more important to me than the cost of tuition or the ranking of the school.
Most importantly, in analyzing the matrix and criteria for staying or transferring, there is the most important realization that I am not on this journey alone. Law school would not have been possible without the faith and trust that I have placed in God Almighty to lead the way and light the path. He did not bring me to this place to abandon me. In spite of applying to nine different law schools and getting accepted to four, I knew that LU is where I would attend. I knew this before LU ever accepted me, so there must be some reason why I am here in spite of the fact that I do not know what awaits me in two years. I don't suppose that I need to know as long as God does and He's working all of these things out for my good. I do know how important it is to be patient and wait; almost as important as admitting that I’m not in control of any of this, so why don’t I just do my best on a daily basis and let Him handle the rest. Oh, and even though LU isn't even ranked (like I mentioned earlier) almost 70% of our graduates have jobs or job offers, which is pretty impressive for an inaugeral class of graduates from a distinctively conservative law school.
As far as I'm concerned, this decision is final. There is no looking back. Time and energy will not be wasted on one "what if." That being said, the weight has been lifted from my shoulders, and I am able to focus on my summer plans. Now if I could drop the same amount of weight from my waistline, that would be fabulous!
Monday, May 28, 2007
Summer "vacation"
Prior to law school, I was an instructor at a local community college, and I became quite accustomed to enjoying summer vacations. Even though I taught classes during summer semester, they were usually online classes that I could attend at my leisure, and the summer was mine. So, what did I do with all of that down time during the summer? Many of you know that I usually returned to the law firm to make some mad money. Some things change; but most remain the same.
It has been less than two weeks since final exams; yet, most of the pain from this year has moved to the recesses of my memory (much like a new mother forgets the pain of labor). I think I have caught up on my sleep, if that is even possible. I have returned to some type of exercise regime--to work off the weight that was added by lattes, cappuccinos, and midnight chili cheese fries with the study group. And I have started the summer job(s).
My primary job is working as a research assistant for a professor at the law school. This will generally be a full-time paid position during the summer. I can work up to 40 hours per week; and, the best news is that most of the time I can work from home.
I am also working as an intern at the Commonwealth Attorney's office two days per week. This is a volunteer position, but it exposes me to members of the local bar, and is great experience for me as I try to determine if I am really interested in pursuing a career as a criminal prosecutor. By the time we complete this summer internship, I should have been exposed to each area of the Commonwealth Attorney's office as well as each step in a trial, including interviews, victim assistance, case management, hearings, trial, etc.
Summer will also include a few days in Minnesota as I visit Westlaw headquarters for training as a Westlaw student representative. This will be a part-time job for me next year as I work on campus as the Westlaw representative. I was very excited to be offered this position with Westlaw. While I am familiar with Westlaw (from my days in the law office), I believe that this position will make me a better researcher, which will also make me more valuable in my position as a research assistant. Then, if I make it on Law Review, the skills that I learn through Westlaw should help with research for the Notes (20-30 page articles) I will be required to write.
Finally, I will be completing a course of independent study in order to become a CASA volunteer (Court Appointed Special Advocate) . CASA volunteers represent the interests of abused and neglected children in court. I should complete this course during the summer and be ready for my assignments by fall.
Other than these four priorities, I am still struggling with whether to apply for a transfer to another law school. For now, it is a matter of great prayer and informed research. I do not want to transfer just anywhere. If I transfer, I only want to move to a school that is ranked in the top 100. Because of my kids, I also feel compelled to choose a school that is geographically convenient (so, Pepperdine is out). Obviously, there are financial concerns. And I don't want to trade one bag of troubles for another. There are good things at LU that I appreciate; I do not want to sacrifice those just for the sake of change. Finally, I hate moving; so, if I'm going to turn my life upside down again with another move, it must be for something bigger and better on all fronts. I have sought the advice of trusted friends and legal professionals on this issue, and have taken each word of advice to heart. But the time has come to select schools that will fit into this matrix of criteria, and I covet your prayers. Yet, as you can read, so much is falling into place at this law school, I wonder if I already have my answer.
I am looking forward to all of my summer adventures. Sprinkle in a cruise to the Bahamas and several trips home to NC, and the summer "vacation" will be complete.
It has been less than two weeks since final exams; yet, most of the pain from this year has moved to the recesses of my memory (much like a new mother forgets the pain of labor). I think I have caught up on my sleep, if that is even possible. I have returned to some type of exercise regime--to work off the weight that was added by lattes, cappuccinos, and midnight chili cheese fries with the study group. And I have started the summer job(s).
My primary job is working as a research assistant for a professor at the law school. This will generally be a full-time paid position during the summer. I can work up to 40 hours per week; and, the best news is that most of the time I can work from home.
I am also working as an intern at the Commonwealth Attorney's office two days per week. This is a volunteer position, but it exposes me to members of the local bar, and is great experience for me as I try to determine if I am really interested in pursuing a career as a criminal prosecutor. By the time we complete this summer internship, I should have been exposed to each area of the Commonwealth Attorney's office as well as each step in a trial, including interviews, victim assistance, case management, hearings, trial, etc.
Summer will also include a few days in Minnesota as I visit Westlaw headquarters for training as a Westlaw student representative. This will be a part-time job for me next year as I work on campus as the Westlaw representative. I was very excited to be offered this position with Westlaw. While I am familiar with Westlaw (from my days in the law office), I believe that this position will make me a better researcher, which will also make me more valuable in my position as a research assistant. Then, if I make it on Law Review, the skills that I learn through Westlaw should help with research for the Notes (20-30 page articles) I will be required to write.
Finally, I will be completing a course of independent study in order to become a CASA volunteer (Court Appointed Special Advocate) . CASA volunteers represent the interests of abused and neglected children in court. I should complete this course during the summer and be ready for my assignments by fall.
Other than these four priorities, I am still struggling with whether to apply for a transfer to another law school. For now, it is a matter of great prayer and informed research. I do not want to transfer just anywhere. If I transfer, I only want to move to a school that is ranked in the top 100. Because of my kids, I also feel compelled to choose a school that is geographically convenient (so, Pepperdine is out). Obviously, there are financial concerns. And I don't want to trade one bag of troubles for another. There are good things at LU that I appreciate; I do not want to sacrifice those just for the sake of change. Finally, I hate moving; so, if I'm going to turn my life upside down again with another move, it must be for something bigger and better on all fronts. I have sought the advice of trusted friends and legal professionals on this issue, and have taken each word of advice to heart. But the time has come to select schools that will fit into this matrix of criteria, and I covet your prayers. Yet, as you can read, so much is falling into place at this law school, I wonder if I already have my answer.
I am looking forward to all of my summer adventures. Sprinkle in a cruise to the Bahamas and several trips home to NC, and the summer "vacation" will be complete.
Saturday, May 19, 2007
The 2007 LU graduation experience
Bubbles...beach balls...silly string...photos...beautiful weather...videos..."the wave"...cheers... music...standing ovations...prayer...happy tears...and heavy hearts. Jerry would've been proud.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Proud to be one of Jerry's kids
This day has been marked with shock and sadness. The unthinkable has occurred. The man we thought would outlive us all has failed to do so.
You remember where you were at 9:00 a.m. on September 11, 2001? Absolutely. Well, residents of Lynchburg and students at LU will remember where we were when we heard that Jerry had collapsed. I was running errands with my daughter, Diane, when the announcement was made on the radio that Jerry had collapsed and was reported in "grave condition." It did not sound good. I prayed for the best, but feared the worst. Less than an hour later CNN reported that he had died.
I hope the media is kind to Jerry, but he was a public figure often embroiled in controversy, and that is how they identify with him. After spending a year at the university he built, I came to appreciate the Jerry that the media never knew.
Jerry was a mountain of a man. He was self-deprecating at times, calling himself an "old hillbilly" or "country boy" and believing it to be so. He was an icon on Liberty Mountain. He usually drove a black Escalade, and he would darn near run over you just for the fun of it. Then, he'd stop and offer you a ride. He's transported many a student from one side of campus to another, asking them all kinds of questions about what they like or don't like about the school. He took those conversations to heart and made changes that he felt were warranted. We remember the Jerry Falwell, who was 73 years old, but a kid at heart.
Jerry had a photographic memory. He was a very intelligent man. He was the valedictorian of his high school, but was not allowed to give the speech because of a prank he pulled on a teacher before graduation. That is the Jerry Falwell that we will remember: the man who loved a good laugh.
According to Jerry's own autobiography, he was quite the troublemaker before his conversion; but, from the day he made that decision, his life was never the same. He went to Bible college and then came home to Lynchburg to build a church out of nothing. In the beginning, he knocked on 100 doors a day for six days a week inviting people to church. Less than a year ago he beamed like a little boy at Christmas at the opening of the new sanctuary to celebrate the church's 50th anniversary. He was blunt and opinionated, but he was a pastor, and only his family meant more to him than the calling on his life to preach and reach the world.
The students at LU loved Jerry. Often, at or near the last convocation, they would erupt into "Jer-ry! Jer-ry! Jer-ry!" chants and applause. He usually could control the affairs of an entire college campus and mega-church, but he was helpless when the students starting chanting and loving him so. Everyone identified with him on some level, either as a pastor, grandfather, father, friend, etc.
I wish the media could have known this man. I shook his hand. I watched him work. I watched him interact in the community and in the church. What I saw and what I know makes me proud today to be counted as one of Jerry's kids, and very sad as a result of this loss.
II Timothy 4:7-9
You remember where you were at 9:00 a.m. on September 11, 2001? Absolutely. Well, residents of Lynchburg and students at LU will remember where we were when we heard that Jerry had collapsed. I was running errands with my daughter, Diane, when the announcement was made on the radio that Jerry had collapsed and was reported in "grave condition." It did not sound good. I prayed for the best, but feared the worst. Less than an hour later CNN reported that he had died.
I hope the media is kind to Jerry, but he was a public figure often embroiled in controversy, and that is how they identify with him. After spending a year at the university he built, I came to appreciate the Jerry that the media never knew.
Jerry was a mountain of a man. He was self-deprecating at times, calling himself an "old hillbilly" or "country boy" and believing it to be so. He was an icon on Liberty Mountain. He usually drove a black Escalade, and he would darn near run over you just for the fun of it. Then, he'd stop and offer you a ride. He's transported many a student from one side of campus to another, asking them all kinds of questions about what they like or don't like about the school. He took those conversations to heart and made changes that he felt were warranted. We remember the Jerry Falwell, who was 73 years old, but a kid at heart.
Jerry had a photographic memory. He was a very intelligent man. He was the valedictorian of his high school, but was not allowed to give the speech because of a prank he pulled on a teacher before graduation. That is the Jerry Falwell that we will remember: the man who loved a good laugh.
According to Jerry's own autobiography, he was quite the troublemaker before his conversion; but, from the day he made that decision, his life was never the same. He went to Bible college and then came home to Lynchburg to build a church out of nothing. In the beginning, he knocked on 100 doors a day for six days a week inviting people to church. Less than a year ago he beamed like a little boy at Christmas at the opening of the new sanctuary to celebrate the church's 50th anniversary. He was blunt and opinionated, but he was a pastor, and only his family meant more to him than the calling on his life to preach and reach the world.
The students at LU loved Jerry. Often, at or near the last convocation, they would erupt into "Jer-ry! Jer-ry! Jer-ry!" chants and applause. He usually could control the affairs of an entire college campus and mega-church, but he was helpless when the students starting chanting and loving him so. Everyone identified with him on some level, either as a pastor, grandfather, father, friend, etc.
I wish the media could have known this man. I shook his hand. I watched him work. I watched him interact in the community and in the church. What I saw and what I know makes me proud today to be counted as one of Jerry's kids, and very sad as a result of this loss.
II Timothy 4:7-9
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Another Day in the Dream
Life is good.
living a dream.
But life has a price.
And so does the dream.
Dreams can be exhausting.
Is it weariness?
Or nostalgia?
That makes me miss my daddy’s smile
Sleeping late on Saturdays
Planting flowers in my own yard
Granny’s chocolate pie
The ocean
My convertible on a starlit night
Being less cynical and jaded
Family forfeited in the divorce
When the kids would hold my hand
The sweet smell of puppy breath
Scrabble
Childhood friends
Simplicity
Another day
Pursuing the dream
Cherishing the moments that brought me here
living a dream.
But life has a price.
And so does the dream.
Dreams can be exhausting.
Is it weariness?
Or nostalgia?
That makes me miss my daddy’s smile
Sleeping late on Saturdays
Planting flowers in my own yard
Granny’s chocolate pie
The ocean
My convertible on a starlit night
Being less cynical and jaded
Family forfeited in the divorce
When the kids would hold my hand
The sweet smell of puppy breath
Scrabble
Childhood friends
Simplicity
Another day
Pursuing the dream
Cherishing the moments that brought me here
Friday, May 04, 2007
This is it!
Today is the last day of class for spring semester. I just submitted my final two projects for the semester. Exams begin next week. My classmates and I are just a few short (stressful) days from crossing the threshold from being 1Ls to 2Ls, which--at this point in time--is very hard to believe.
The updates here will be few and far between until exams are completed on May 18. Graduation is May 19, and I hope to be there cheering on all of the friends that I have made in the 3L class. They are truly a special group of pioneers.
Please keep me in your prayers during the coming weeks. Law school exams are brutal, but I know what to expect (after surviving fall exams), and I know that "this too shall pass."
The updates here will be few and far between until exams are completed on May 18. Graduation is May 19, and I hope to be there cheering on all of the friends that I have made in the 3L class. They are truly a special group of pioneers.
Please keep me in your prayers during the coming weeks. Law school exams are brutal, but I know what to expect (after surviving fall exams), and I know that "this too shall pass."
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Law Review and Moot Court
As the semester (and year) wind down, the tension mounts. Today we heard from the law review editors about how we can qualify for law review. The good news is that I do not get an automatic invitation. Those invitations are reserved for the top 15% of the class, and I am in the top 20%. While I would hope to move up some in my ranking, a 5% jump would be miraculous, to say the least. So, if I want to pursue a position on law review, I will have to apply via a “write on” campaign where all of the students are given a legal problem for briefing and a short amount of time to research and submit same. This occurs immediately after final exams, so I’ll have to postpone my “summer of vegetation” until after the paper is written. During those few weeks I will probably find myself busy with the “write on” paper...as well as transfer applications to a few other law schools. My goal is to (1) transfer to another school (a higher-ranking school); or, (2) in the alternative, make the most of my experience here. In light of both of those goals, my GPA cannot slip; and, in fact, needs to climb. (Yes, that's a prayer request; make a note of it.)
For the past month we have been researching and writing a summary judgment brief for our “client.” The brief was due about two weeks ago. Then, last week, we argued our brief before a three-judge panel in a wonderful law school rite of passage called “moot court.” On Monday we argued “on brief,” and on Wednesday we argued “off brief.” We were graded in groupings of four based on a random selection process. Those who did the best from their foursome moved on to the semi-final rounds on Friday.
I have admitted to no fewer than all of my friends and the clerk at Kroger’s that Monday was not a good day for me in moot court. I woefully underestimated the amount of preparation it would require; and, when I realized this, my alternate plan was to stick my head in the sand and pretend like it wasn’t happening. My summary of Monday's moot court experience: Ugh! However, once I cleaned up the wounds from Monday, I bounced back on Wednesday and made a stellar appearance in moot court when arguing “off brief” (i.e., the other side’s position).
I’ll spare you anymore suspense and admit that I did not advance to the semi-finals on Friday. For an overachiever like me, that was quite a hard pill to swallow (especially considering the pool of orators who did advance), but I have shouldered the blame and tried to learn from the experience. Well, yesterday we received our score sheets from the moot court rounds on Monday and Wednesday. We were scored based on the following criteria:
Ø effectiveness of opening and closing statements
Ø knowledge of the brief, the record, the authority cited, and the issues/arguments raised
Ø the substantive content of the argument, e.g., order of presentation of points, emphasis of points, and time management
Ø ability to answer questions, to think on our feet, and to resume thread of argument after interruption
Ø ability to speak without notes or w/ unobtrusive notes, use of speaking voice, poise, gestures, mannerisms, and courtroom etiquette
Each judge provided a score as well as a “ranking” for each speaker within the foursome. On Monday (the day that I “bombed”), my rankings were 1-1-4. That means that two judges ranked my argument as the #1 argument of the foursome! While, the remaining judge (who presumably was smoking crack), ranked me as #4.
During “off brief” Wednesday (before a different panel of judges), my rankings were 2-3-3. What! But, I was stellar on Wednesday! In all humility, I rocked! So, why the low rankings? Because, we not only had a different panel of judges, but we were also shuffled into a different foursome; and my foursome on Wednesday had some awesome speakers, one of whom advanced to Friday’s semi-final round.
Even though my rankings were lower on Wednesday, my “scores” were much higher. The scores from Monday were an embarrassing 56, 55.5, and 72 (of 100) (yet somehow I was 1-1-4?). On Wednesday, my scores were much better (83, 64.5, and 70) even though my rankings were lower.
The good news is that all of this means nothing when it comes to the grade for this assignment, which is yet to be posted. The rankings and scores are only used for the moot court competition.
Just thought I’d share a little “minutia” of the typical week of law school. Like I said, we are winding down. There are two more projects in the works—both due next week. Meanwhile, I’m trying to squeeze in an extra hour per day to study for finals. My steady diet now is a double shot of mocha latte for breakfast and as a midnight snack. Try to be in bed by 1:00 a.m. and up by 5:00 a.m. There’s no time to exercise or shop or wash clothes. Those few extra minutes that may materialize during the course of the day are reserved for sleep….and, today, blog therapy.
For the past month we have been researching and writing a summary judgment brief for our “client.” The brief was due about two weeks ago. Then, last week, we argued our brief before a three-judge panel in a wonderful law school rite of passage called “moot court.” On Monday we argued “on brief,” and on Wednesday we argued “off brief.” We were graded in groupings of four based on a random selection process. Those who did the best from their foursome moved on to the semi-final rounds on Friday.
I have admitted to no fewer than all of my friends and the clerk at Kroger’s that Monday was not a good day for me in moot court. I woefully underestimated the amount of preparation it would require; and, when I realized this, my alternate plan was to stick my head in the sand and pretend like it wasn’t happening. My summary of Monday's moot court experience: Ugh! However, once I cleaned up the wounds from Monday, I bounced back on Wednesday and made a stellar appearance in moot court when arguing “off brief” (i.e., the other side’s position).
I’ll spare you anymore suspense and admit that I did not advance to the semi-finals on Friday. For an overachiever like me, that was quite a hard pill to swallow (especially considering the pool of orators who did advance), but I have shouldered the blame and tried to learn from the experience. Well, yesterday we received our score sheets from the moot court rounds on Monday and Wednesday. We were scored based on the following criteria:
Ø effectiveness of opening and closing statements
Ø knowledge of the brief, the record, the authority cited, and the issues/arguments raised
Ø the substantive content of the argument, e.g., order of presentation of points, emphasis of points, and time management
Ø ability to answer questions, to think on our feet, and to resume thread of argument after interruption
Ø ability to speak without notes or w/ unobtrusive notes, use of speaking voice, poise, gestures, mannerisms, and courtroom etiquette
Each judge provided a score as well as a “ranking” for each speaker within the foursome. On Monday (the day that I “bombed”), my rankings were 1-1-4. That means that two judges ranked my argument as the #1 argument of the foursome! While, the remaining judge (who presumably was smoking crack), ranked me as #4.
During “off brief” Wednesday (before a different panel of judges), my rankings were 2-3-3. What! But, I was stellar on Wednesday! In all humility, I rocked! So, why the low rankings? Because, we not only had a different panel of judges, but we were also shuffled into a different foursome; and my foursome on Wednesday had some awesome speakers, one of whom advanced to Friday’s semi-final round.
Even though my rankings were lower on Wednesday, my “scores” were much higher. The scores from Monday were an embarrassing 56, 55.5, and 72 (of 100) (yet somehow I was 1-1-4?). On Wednesday, my scores were much better (83, 64.5, and 70) even though my rankings were lower.
The good news is that all of this means nothing when it comes to the grade for this assignment, which is yet to be posted. The rankings and scores are only used for the moot court competition.
Just thought I’d share a little “minutia” of the typical week of law school. Like I said, we are winding down. There are two more projects in the works—both due next week. Meanwhile, I’m trying to squeeze in an extra hour per day to study for finals. My steady diet now is a double shot of mocha latte for breakfast and as a midnight snack. Try to be in bed by 1:00 a.m. and up by 5:00 a.m. There’s no time to exercise or shop or wash clothes. Those few extra minutes that may materialize during the course of the day are reserved for sleep….and, today, blog therapy.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
The exams are coming!
I wish I could convey how busy it has been for the past few weeks. Last week, we had a summary judgment brief due (which constitutes 25% of our final grade); it was the culmination of about four weeks' worth of work (in addition to our regular studies). This week, we had mandatory moot court competitions (in addition to our regular studies). Friday night and Saturday we had a mandatory conference to attend. Heap on top of that the massacre at Virginia Tech, a neighboring university, and the increased police presence on our campus, and it’s been for an emotionally, physically, and mentally draining week. And, just in case there are any thoughts of “catching my breath” or “taking a break,” I am reminded that exams begin in two weeks. That being said, this will probably be my last entry until exams are completed on May 18. But, if you’re reading this before May 18, please say a prayer for me. I want to make good use of my time, I do not want to be distracted or translate into "meltdown mode," I want to digest the plethora of concepts that we’ve covered in sixteen weeks, and I want to do my best on the exams. Your prayers and support are appreciated.
Saturday, April 07, 2007
The Summer
Here's a quick update on my summer plans. Friends, less than a week ago I was in despair about what to do this summer. Everyday a few more classmates would come in with their "big news" about an internship or other excellent offer that they'd received, and there I sat with "no comment" when asked about my summer plans. It's April, we're six weeks away from summer internship time, and I had nothing! Well, not absolutely nothing, I still had several options that would have made for a good summer experience, but I had no nibbles on the internship applications that I had submitted.
I had responded to about 20 different offers for summer interns. Some of these were at prestigious law firms, and others were at small local firms. I applied for summer internships at various non-profits, at the White House, at the U.S. Department of Justice (in D.C., Reno, and Dallas), and at various state attorney's offices in Virginia and North Carolina. I had received a few responses; but, no offers. So, my summer plans were completely up in the air and out of my control. Now, for those of you who know me well (or even "at all"), you know that the fact that I didn't know where I would be in six short weeks was enough to drive me insane! I thought about it while studying, while sitting in class, while careening through traffic, while brushing my teeth, etc. But, rather than jump off Candler's Mountain, I surveyed my options and came up with three options that would work even if nothing else panned out.
1. I could stay in Lynchburg and volunteer at the public defender's office. This would be a new experience for me and would expose me to a lot of the local bar, the courtroom, etc.; unfortunately, it would not help pay any bills because it would truly be "volunteer."
2. I could go to NC and volunteer at my old firm. That is always an option that I enjoy because I get to work with people I know and love. I am very comfortable with the firm and the area of insurance defense. However, I just don't know if my boss would have let me "volunteer." He has always been so generous with me, I think he would have felt compelled to pay me, and I did not want to put him in that uncomfortable position. Also, I felt it was important to "build" my resume with other experiences and that it may look like I'm not willing to grow if I keep returning to my old employer at every break from school.
3. The final--and most expensive--option was to study abroad. I truly do want to study abroad, and I believe that this is the best summer to do it. I had already talked with the dean and had the paperwork ready to submit to him for approval so that I could participate in the University of Miami law school's study abroad program in the Mediterranean. Over the course of 59 days we would tour and study in three countries--Greece, Italy, and Spain. But for the cost, this was the most exciting offer. Included in the cost of $140 per day was tuition, accommodations, meals, and all travel except airfare.
The deadline for guaranteeing a seat in the Miami program was March 31, so I knew that I had to get busy on that option if it was going to happen. I came to school on April 2 with all of the paperwork necessary for the dean's approval of this study abroad program (which I would have to submit with my application). I had decided that it would be the Mediterranean for the summer, and I would just have to forget about the cost. On a whim, though, on that very morning I e-mailed a professor about whether he'd be needing a summer research assistant. For some odd reason, I hadn't even thought about this option. I knew it was a long shot (because many professors had already secured their summer help), but I didn't want to leave any stone unturned before committing to the study abroad program. Within less than a hour, he responded and said "yes," he needed a research assistant, and he wanted to talk to me. After class I met with him and he hired me on the spot! I was so thrilled, I could have hugged or kissed him! (Instead, though, we shook hands.)
This professor really likes to write law review articles and other scholarly stuff, so I will be helping him with researching and drafting those materials. I will be working 20-40 hours per week. I can work from home most of the time. I do envision myself with the laptop beside the pool, but that's probably more fantasy than reality. His only requirement for hiring me is that I commit to working for him during my 2L and 3L years so that he does not have to retrain someone every summer. Obviously, I agreed to do so. I think that this will be a great learning experience for me because this professor is a research guru, and I can learn so much from his expertise. He graduated at the top of his class from law school. He worked for an outrageous salary at a DC firm for five years doing nothing but research; then he moved to the U.S. Department of Justice where he worked for an additional 15 years. He has an impressive background, and I am looking forward to working with him and facing this new challenge.
So, my summer plans are now complete. I will not make a fortune, but I will not be strictly a volunteer; neither will I be spending a fortune on travel. I will be able to take trips home for extended weekends, and I will have an impressive 1L summer experience.
That's all the news for now...until I find something new to "obsess" over. I'm sure something will come up; I'll keep you posted.
I had responded to about 20 different offers for summer interns. Some of these were at prestigious law firms, and others were at small local firms. I applied for summer internships at various non-profits, at the White House, at the U.S. Department of Justice (in D.C., Reno, and Dallas), and at various state attorney's offices in Virginia and North Carolina. I had received a few responses; but, no offers. So, my summer plans were completely up in the air and out of my control. Now, for those of you who know me well (or even "at all"), you know that the fact that I didn't know where I would be in six short weeks was enough to drive me insane! I thought about it while studying, while sitting in class, while careening through traffic, while brushing my teeth, etc. But, rather than jump off Candler's Mountain, I surveyed my options and came up with three options that would work even if nothing else panned out.
1. I could stay in Lynchburg and volunteer at the public defender's office. This would be a new experience for me and would expose me to a lot of the local bar, the courtroom, etc.; unfortunately, it would not help pay any bills because it would truly be "volunteer."
2. I could go to NC and volunteer at my old firm. That is always an option that I enjoy because I get to work with people I know and love. I am very comfortable with the firm and the area of insurance defense. However, I just don't know if my boss would have let me "volunteer." He has always been so generous with me, I think he would have felt compelled to pay me, and I did not want to put him in that uncomfortable position. Also, I felt it was important to "build" my resume with other experiences and that it may look like I'm not willing to grow if I keep returning to my old employer at every break from school.
3. The final--and most expensive--option was to study abroad. I truly do want to study abroad, and I believe that this is the best summer to do it. I had already talked with the dean and had the paperwork ready to submit to him for approval so that I could participate in the University of Miami law school's study abroad program in the Mediterranean. Over the course of 59 days we would tour and study in three countries--Greece, Italy, and Spain. But for the cost, this was the most exciting offer. Included in the cost of $140 per day was tuition, accommodations, meals, and all travel except airfare.
The deadline for guaranteeing a seat in the Miami program was March 31, so I knew that I had to get busy on that option if it was going to happen. I came to school on April 2 with all of the paperwork necessary for the dean's approval of this study abroad program (which I would have to submit with my application). I had decided that it would be the Mediterranean for the summer, and I would just have to forget about the cost. On a whim, though, on that very morning I e-mailed a professor about whether he'd be needing a summer research assistant. For some odd reason, I hadn't even thought about this option. I knew it was a long shot (because many professors had already secured their summer help), but I didn't want to leave any stone unturned before committing to the study abroad program. Within less than a hour, he responded and said "yes," he needed a research assistant, and he wanted to talk to me. After class I met with him and he hired me on the spot! I was so thrilled, I could have hugged or kissed him! (Instead, though, we shook hands.)
This professor really likes to write law review articles and other scholarly stuff, so I will be helping him with researching and drafting those materials. I will be working 20-40 hours per week. I can work from home most of the time. I do envision myself with the laptop beside the pool, but that's probably more fantasy than reality. His only requirement for hiring me is that I commit to working for him during my 2L and 3L years so that he does not have to retrain someone every summer. Obviously, I agreed to do so. I think that this will be a great learning experience for me because this professor is a research guru, and I can learn so much from his expertise. He graduated at the top of his class from law school. He worked for an outrageous salary at a DC firm for five years doing nothing but research; then he moved to the U.S. Department of Justice where he worked for an additional 15 years. He has an impressive background, and I am looking forward to working with him and facing this new challenge.
So, my summer plans are now complete. I will not make a fortune, but I will not be strictly a volunteer; neither will I be spending a fortune on travel. I will be able to take trips home for extended weekends, and I will have an impressive 1L summer experience.
That's all the news for now...until I find something new to "obsess" over. I'm sure something will come up; I'll keep you posted.
Monday, March 26, 2007
The house is sold
The house is sold. After one year on the market, two offers, and numerous showings, it is sold. And, with those words, it is hard to describe how it makes me feel. The automatic reaction is “Hooray! Fabulous! Great!” But, this house was more than a place to live. It was the place I called home for most of my life. And, as relieved as I am to be released from its obligations, I am also sad that it had to be sold.
My parents purchased this house in 1974 right before my dad retired from the Air Force. This was the first house that we owned that did not have wheels! (Seriously!) Until then, my family would move from place to place across America, and we would take our house along with us. We lived in North Carolina (obviously), South Carolina, Michigan, and Arizona—all before I was 10 years old—and that house went with us on every leg of the journey.
A few years after returning from Arizona, dad decided that it was time to retire, and we moved from the mobile home to the brick home on Norwood Avenue. I was almost 12 years old at the time. The street was sprinkled with a few houses; ours was the newest addition to the neighborhood. We were the first family to live in this house; and, until now, we were the only family to live in it.
In 1974 the road in front of our house was dirt. I loved to ride my bike up and down the road and kick up the dust. Eventually I obtained my driver’s license and learned to kick up a lot more dust with my first car.
Through the years, my dad and mom divorced. Dad moved to Tennessee. Mom stayed in the house. By the time I turned 18 the dirt road was paved. I moved in with a few friends (into another house with wheels); but, when my dad died of cancer in 1982, he left his portion of the house to me. When I was engaged in 1984, I moved back into the house to save money for the wedding. Ironically, my mom remarried about six months after my wedding in 1985. She moved in with her new husband, and my husband and I made Norwood Avenue our home.
Children were born a few years later. Melissa arrived on Valentine’s Day, 1987; and Wesley followed shortly thereafter in September 1988. My kids grew up in this house. They crawled, walked, and ran through its halls. They slammed doors and blasted music through the windows. They graduated from bassinet to crib to bed within the same four walls. They played in the same backyard for 18 years and shared the same neighborhood with their friends and foes during that time. We filled the back yard with a swimming pool, a fire pit, a slip and slide, a basketball goal, a toss back, a barn, and various pets, including Precious, Snickers, Sam, Abby, Boots, Patches, and Chester. We rescued birds. We watched bunnies play in the yard at night. We played h-o-r-s-e a million or more times when the weather would permit, and chess when the weather would not. We had dozens of birthday parties and slumber parties and movie nights.
The kids learned the freedom of riding their bikes around the neighborhood (just as I had) and the ultimate freedom of driving their own cars. By the time Wes got his driver’s license, our front yard was looking like a used car lot. We just kept growing and changing, and the house kept accommodating us. My husband and I divorced in 2003, and Melissa left for college in August 2005. Wes and I spent a final year in the neighborhood while we made plans to leave as well. Wes would be heading to college in August 2006, and I made plans to attend law school then as well.
I remember the day that I knew I had to tell my neighbor of 33 years (Carol) that we were moving and selling the house. It was easier to tell folks of the divorce than to break this news. We stood in her backyard and cried crocodile tears. She and I had come into possession of our homes in much the same way. Her parents had owned her home and she grew up there, just as my parents had owned my home when I was younger. We had watched each other marry, divorce, and raise children. We had mowed each other’s lawns. We could call each other in the dead of night when we were scared of a storm or we heard something that just was not right. She had a key to my house and was welcome to enter it at anytime. We could spend endless hours at the fence just catching up; and if I ever needed an egg, flour, sugar, or milk, I knew I could get it from Carol much quicker than I could from the store.
August 2006 we rolled out of the neighborhood. Wes headed to Wilmington, and I headed to Virginia. I have been to the house on each of my visits to North Carolina and I have visited Carol on many of those trips to Norwood Avenue. As elated as I am that I do not have a mortgage payment anymore, it does seem unusual to know that I am no longer a part of that neighborhood. But, what wonderful pages we wrote while living there. My kids and I can testify that it was a wonderful place to grow up, and it will always hold a special place in my heart, even though it is now sold.
My parents purchased this house in 1974 right before my dad retired from the Air Force. This was the first house that we owned that did not have wheels! (Seriously!) Until then, my family would move from place to place across America, and we would take our house along with us. We lived in North Carolina (obviously), South Carolina, Michigan, and Arizona—all before I was 10 years old—and that house went with us on every leg of the journey.
A few years after returning from Arizona, dad decided that it was time to retire, and we moved from the mobile home to the brick home on Norwood Avenue. I was almost 12 years old at the time. The street was sprinkled with a few houses; ours was the newest addition to the neighborhood. We were the first family to live in this house; and, until now, we were the only family to live in it.
In 1974 the road in front of our house was dirt. I loved to ride my bike up and down the road and kick up the dust. Eventually I obtained my driver’s license and learned to kick up a lot more dust with my first car.
Through the years, my dad and mom divorced. Dad moved to Tennessee. Mom stayed in the house. By the time I turned 18 the dirt road was paved. I moved in with a few friends (into another house with wheels); but, when my dad died of cancer in 1982, he left his portion of the house to me. When I was engaged in 1984, I moved back into the house to save money for the wedding. Ironically, my mom remarried about six months after my wedding in 1985. She moved in with her new husband, and my husband and I made Norwood Avenue our home.
Children were born a few years later. Melissa arrived on Valentine’s Day, 1987; and Wesley followed shortly thereafter in September 1988. My kids grew up in this house. They crawled, walked, and ran through its halls. They slammed doors and blasted music through the windows. They graduated from bassinet to crib to bed within the same four walls. They played in the same backyard for 18 years and shared the same neighborhood with their friends and foes during that time. We filled the back yard with a swimming pool, a fire pit, a slip and slide, a basketball goal, a toss back, a barn, and various pets, including Precious, Snickers, Sam, Abby, Boots, Patches, and Chester. We rescued birds. We watched bunnies play in the yard at night. We played h-o-r-s-e a million or more times when the weather would permit, and chess when the weather would not. We had dozens of birthday parties and slumber parties and movie nights.
The kids learned the freedom of riding their bikes around the neighborhood (just as I had) and the ultimate freedom of driving their own cars. By the time Wes got his driver’s license, our front yard was looking like a used car lot. We just kept growing and changing, and the house kept accommodating us. My husband and I divorced in 2003, and Melissa left for college in August 2005. Wes and I spent a final year in the neighborhood while we made plans to leave as well. Wes would be heading to college in August 2006, and I made plans to attend law school then as well.
I remember the day that I knew I had to tell my neighbor of 33 years (Carol) that we were moving and selling the house. It was easier to tell folks of the divorce than to break this news. We stood in her backyard and cried crocodile tears. She and I had come into possession of our homes in much the same way. Her parents had owned her home and she grew up there, just as my parents had owned my home when I was younger. We had watched each other marry, divorce, and raise children. We had mowed each other’s lawns. We could call each other in the dead of night when we were scared of a storm or we heard something that just was not right. She had a key to my house and was welcome to enter it at anytime. We could spend endless hours at the fence just catching up; and if I ever needed an egg, flour, sugar, or milk, I knew I could get it from Carol much quicker than I could from the store.
August 2006 we rolled out of the neighborhood. Wes headed to Wilmington, and I headed to Virginia. I have been to the house on each of my visits to North Carolina and I have visited Carol on many of those trips to Norwood Avenue. As elated as I am that I do not have a mortgage payment anymore, it does seem unusual to know that I am no longer a part of that neighborhood. But, what wonderful pages we wrote while living there. My kids and I can testify that it was a wonderful place to grow up, and it will always hold a special place in my heart, even though it is now sold.
Monday, March 19, 2007
Spring Break
Pardon the interruption, but I took a few weeks off for spring break. Classes officially resumed today, and spring break is just a fond memory. Before I tell you about my favorite things from spring break, let me tell you what I did not do:
1. I did not study. I did not crack a book.
2. I did not update my outlines. I did not look at my outlines. I did not say the word "outline."
3. I did not work on any projects. Yes, there are projects due (and soon), but I did not burden myself with these matters.
4. I did not read ahead. I prepared for Monday's class, and that was it.
5. I did not spend an inordinate amount of time in the library. I tried, but I just couldn't. I had the best of intentions, but absolutely no motivation. So, my library visit consisted of one afternoon where I opened the books and computer and then proceeded to waste away four hours of my life looking busy in the library. I decided that I could look just as busy at home in my pajamas and forego the trip to the library.
Whether I'll regret all of the things that I didn't do on spring break is yet to be seen. I can testify, however, that (so far) I do not regret the things that I did do on spring break. Let me tell you about my favorites:
5. Cooking.
I was able to get in the kitchen and whip up some country fried dinners that would make any southern woman proud. There were mashed potatoes, fresh green beans, and cubed steak with gravy; there was fried chicken; chicken pastry; and veggie soup with grilled cheese sandwiches. The cooking was better than any therapy session. I haven’t cooked in a while, and it was good to put something together that didn’t include curbside service, delivery, or a microwave.
4 Surprises!
I love surprising folks with a visit. Not many folks knew that I was coming home to NC for a brief visit, so I was able to surprise quite a few friends. My first surprise was when I popped in on my friend Phyllis. She had no idea that I was coming into town and it was a lot of fun driving up in her front yard and watching her run out of the house! The next surprise was Friday morning as I was leaving town. I stopped by Don Clark’s office and spent a few minutes exchanging law school stories with him. Then I stopped by the firm and got a few hugs from Bob, Shannon, Kathy, Jeff, and Karen. Bob always chokes me up because he starts every conversation with “You know we’re proud of you.” Just getting a few hugs from these folks was enough to choke me up. I had to make that visit a quick one or else I would have been an emotional wreck!
3. Going home.
I always enjoy a quick visit to North Carolina. I like to make the trips quick and pack as much as possible into them. This trip home was less than 24 hours, but I managed to get my money’s worth out of every minute. I visited my hairdresser, dentist, mechanic, and favorite bakery. I then took my mom to dinner and visited with Wes. I also squeezed in breakfast and lunch with friends. Twenty-four hours wasn't enough time to visit everyone--and I regret that--but I did squeeze as much as possible into the quickest of trips.
2. Exercise.
I really do enjoy exercise when I have the time to do it right. But, when my schedule is packed to the max, exercise is the first casualty. The weather during spring break was fabulous! And, once I recuperated a few days, I was ready to go walking and biking and hiking. It was a lot of fun to spend the afternoon in the park or just walking through the neighborhood with Melissa and Abby (the pooch).
1. Sweet Sleep.
I went to bed early and slept late. I took a nap most days; and, some days, I took two. It took at least three days for the throbbing to subside and for me to feel human again. The first three days of spring break had to be the equivalent of law school detox. But, afterward, the sleep was the most luxurious and decedent part of spring break. I’m gonna miss it.
1. I did not study. I did not crack a book.
2. I did not update my outlines. I did not look at my outlines. I did not say the word "outline."
3. I did not work on any projects. Yes, there are projects due (and soon), but I did not burden myself with these matters.
4. I did not read ahead. I prepared for Monday's class, and that was it.
5. I did not spend an inordinate amount of time in the library. I tried, but I just couldn't. I had the best of intentions, but absolutely no motivation. So, my library visit consisted of one afternoon where I opened the books and computer and then proceeded to waste away four hours of my life looking busy in the library. I decided that I could look just as busy at home in my pajamas and forego the trip to the library.
Whether I'll regret all of the things that I didn't do on spring break is yet to be seen. I can testify, however, that (so far) I do not regret the things that I did do on spring break. Let me tell you about my favorites:
5. Cooking.
I was able to get in the kitchen and whip up some country fried dinners that would make any southern woman proud. There were mashed potatoes, fresh green beans, and cubed steak with gravy; there was fried chicken; chicken pastry; and veggie soup with grilled cheese sandwiches. The cooking was better than any therapy session. I haven’t cooked in a while, and it was good to put something together that didn’t include curbside service, delivery, or a microwave.
4 Surprises!
I love surprising folks with a visit. Not many folks knew that I was coming home to NC for a brief visit, so I was able to surprise quite a few friends. My first surprise was when I popped in on my friend Phyllis. She had no idea that I was coming into town and it was a lot of fun driving up in her front yard and watching her run out of the house! The next surprise was Friday morning as I was leaving town. I stopped by Don Clark’s office and spent a few minutes exchanging law school stories with him. Then I stopped by the firm and got a few hugs from Bob, Shannon, Kathy, Jeff, and Karen. Bob always chokes me up because he starts every conversation with “You know we’re proud of you.” Just getting a few hugs from these folks was enough to choke me up. I had to make that visit a quick one or else I would have been an emotional wreck!
3. Going home.
I always enjoy a quick visit to North Carolina. I like to make the trips quick and pack as much as possible into them. This trip home was less than 24 hours, but I managed to get my money’s worth out of every minute. I visited my hairdresser, dentist, mechanic, and favorite bakery. I then took my mom to dinner and visited with Wes. I also squeezed in breakfast and lunch with friends. Twenty-four hours wasn't enough time to visit everyone--and I regret that--but I did squeeze as much as possible into the quickest of trips.
2. Exercise.
I really do enjoy exercise when I have the time to do it right. But, when my schedule is packed to the max, exercise is the first casualty. The weather during spring break was fabulous! And, once I recuperated a few days, I was ready to go walking and biking and hiking. It was a lot of fun to spend the afternoon in the park or just walking through the neighborhood with Melissa and Abby (the pooch).
1. Sweet Sleep.
I went to bed early and slept late. I took a nap most days; and, some days, I took two. It took at least three days for the throbbing to subside and for me to feel human again. The first three days of spring break had to be the equivalent of law school detox. But, afterward, the sleep was the most luxurious and decedent part of spring break. I’m gonna miss it.
Sunday, March 11, 2007
A day in the life
Spring break officially arrived Friday at 2:00 p.m. By 6:00 p.m. I was home and in my pajamas. Some part of me certainly wanted to go out and celebrate, but the remainder of my body, mind, and spirit overruled that request, and the celebration was confined to the couch.
I did have big plans for Saturday, which included exploring some local walking trails and updating the contracts outline. The trails were never explored; instead, I walked a few miles around the track, and that took all of the energy that I could muster. The contracts outline stayed in my briefcase (the thought of studying made me nauseous). Most of the day I stayed in my pajamas. I moved from couch to bed watching basketball and movies. I was so tired. It was the kind of “tired” that you feel when you have the flu; you know, every cell of your body and brain is spent.
I can imagine that people tire of hearing me say “I’m tired,” especially those who aren’t present in the day-to-day of this law school boot camp lifestyle. “I’m tired” is usually just a blanket statement to cover all of the finite details of the days preceding. But, to be more specific, let me infuse a few details into this statement so that—possibly—it can be appreciated. During the course of a week, I attend 15 hours of class in the following subjects: Property, Law Skills, Contracts, Torts, Foundations of Law, and Civil Procedure. Except for Foundations and Law Skills, the remaining four topics will be part of the bar exam that I will ultimately take (and hopefully pass), so a firm grasp of each of these topics as they are addressed day-to-day on an incremental basis is essential.
Every night in each of these classes there are reading assignments. We must read, outline, note, comprehend, compare, analyze, and synthesize the material. On a good night, the gods may smile upon us, and we can be prepared in an hour for the next day’s reading. If that is true, be prepared because that means we are going to spend a lot of time in class comparing and analyzing this reading with prior materials. On a bad night, we may spend three or four hours reading for one subject, which is what I had to do Monday night in preparation for Tuesday’s Torts class. It literally took me almost four hours to complete the reading. Earlier in the day I could hear grumblings in the library from fellow classmates about the enormous reading assignment for the Torts class. It was a tremendous amount of reading, especially in light of the fact that we were also trying to prepare for a mid-term exam in Foundations class (where I had a 75-page outline to review).
So, you might say, why don’t you just skim? That would be about as effective as skimming the instructions on how to build a nuclear reactor.
Or, just pick out what you think is important? I’ve been more successful at picking lottery numbers.
Or, surely the professor can’t cover all of that material the next day? Yes, he can; and, history verifies, he will. Either be prepared, be absent, or be humiliated.
So, four hours to prepare for Torts.
Then we had to read about 40 pages in Law Skills and prepare a burnt offering (a/k/a assignment). Every assignment is graded. If there are typographical or grammatical errors, the grade drops 10%; if it is late, the grade drops 10%; if it is not a “good faith effort,” the grade drops 10%. Monday night, Law Skills was relatively straightforward; it took me about two hours to complete the reading, then complete the assignment, then print, proof, correct, edit, and reprint the assignment.
Then I had to prepare for Contracts. Contracts is typically the class that requires the most preparation. There is reading in the casebook, which often refers to the UCC and Restatements of Contracts. In addition, our professor posts 15-30 questions every night that he will address the next day in class. So, you outline the casebook, brief the cases, insert the UCC and Restatement language into your notes, including the relevant notes and comments at the end of each one, and then attack his questions. If I must skip anything, it is the questions because they, alone, will take hours to complete. Usually I will peruse his questions just to ensure that I have an idea of what he’s looking for, but Contracts could be a full-time job but for the fact I have five other subjects to study. So, Monday night, I spent about three hours preparing for class.
On Mondays we are out of class by 2:00 p.m. Usually I grab a quick lunch at the cafeteria and then head over to the library to prepare for the next day. By the time that I had prepped for Tuesday's classes, it was almost 10:00 p.m. That’s when I pulled out my Foundations outline and began studying for the mid-term that was a mere three days away. This took me until midnight, when the library closed. I headed home and had to wash a load of clothes before going to bed.
I was in bed before 1:00 a.m. and up at 5:30 a.m. on Tuesday to go to the gym for a quick “wake me up” workout. This gave me enough time to get to school about 20 minutes before class so that I could review my Torts notes before class started at 8:00 a.m. And this was the schedule that I had for the entire week. Get up at 5:30; leave home around 7:30; get home around midnight. Five days of that can wear a body out! And, I know from personal experience, of course; but I also see my younger classmates dragging their tail feathers too.
Even still, so much was NOT accomplished last week. I did not update my outlines in any class. I spent all of my time just preparing for the next day and preparing for the mid-term. I did not have time to use any of the commercial materials to reiterate class discussions or case briefs. I did not have time to meet with a professor to answer questions about confusing areas. Consequently, I did not have time to look for a summer job or a summer study abroad program. Basically, the day-to-day routine was just to keep my head above water and forget how tired I was from treading water.
Today is Sunday, and I am still tired; that amazes me. For the past two days I have avoided the alarm clock and just let my body sleep until it was ready to wake up, hoping that would help. I’m sure it has, but I still don’t feel like I’m at 100%. Nevertheless, there is much to do during spring break. This break is like a gift (of “time,” which ranks right up there with “air”), so I’ve got to appreciate its worth and let my body catch up when it can. If I’m lucky, I will only work about 12 hours a day; as you can see, that would be a luxury.
I did have big plans for Saturday, which included exploring some local walking trails and updating the contracts outline. The trails were never explored; instead, I walked a few miles around the track, and that took all of the energy that I could muster. The contracts outline stayed in my briefcase (the thought of studying made me nauseous). Most of the day I stayed in my pajamas. I moved from couch to bed watching basketball and movies. I was so tired. It was the kind of “tired” that you feel when you have the flu; you know, every cell of your body and brain is spent.
I can imagine that people tire of hearing me say “I’m tired,” especially those who aren’t present in the day-to-day of this law school boot camp lifestyle. “I’m tired” is usually just a blanket statement to cover all of the finite details of the days preceding. But, to be more specific, let me infuse a few details into this statement so that—possibly—it can be appreciated. During the course of a week, I attend 15 hours of class in the following subjects: Property, Law Skills, Contracts, Torts, Foundations of Law, and Civil Procedure. Except for Foundations and Law Skills, the remaining four topics will be part of the bar exam that I will ultimately take (and hopefully pass), so a firm grasp of each of these topics as they are addressed day-to-day on an incremental basis is essential.
Every night in each of these classes there are reading assignments. We must read, outline, note, comprehend, compare, analyze, and synthesize the material. On a good night, the gods may smile upon us, and we can be prepared in an hour for the next day’s reading. If that is true, be prepared because that means we are going to spend a lot of time in class comparing and analyzing this reading with prior materials. On a bad night, we may spend three or four hours reading for one subject, which is what I had to do Monday night in preparation for Tuesday’s Torts class. It literally took me almost four hours to complete the reading. Earlier in the day I could hear grumblings in the library from fellow classmates about the enormous reading assignment for the Torts class. It was a tremendous amount of reading, especially in light of the fact that we were also trying to prepare for a mid-term exam in Foundations class (where I had a 75-page outline to review).
So, you might say, why don’t you just skim? That would be about as effective as skimming the instructions on how to build a nuclear reactor.
Or, just pick out what you think is important? I’ve been more successful at picking lottery numbers.
Or, surely the professor can’t cover all of that material the next day? Yes, he can; and, history verifies, he will. Either be prepared, be absent, or be humiliated.
So, four hours to prepare for Torts.
Then we had to read about 40 pages in Law Skills and prepare a burnt offering (a/k/a assignment). Every assignment is graded. If there are typographical or grammatical errors, the grade drops 10%; if it is late, the grade drops 10%; if it is not a “good faith effort,” the grade drops 10%. Monday night, Law Skills was relatively straightforward; it took me about two hours to complete the reading, then complete the assignment, then print, proof, correct, edit, and reprint the assignment.
Then I had to prepare for Contracts. Contracts is typically the class that requires the most preparation. There is reading in the casebook, which often refers to the UCC and Restatements of Contracts. In addition, our professor posts 15-30 questions every night that he will address the next day in class. So, you outline the casebook, brief the cases, insert the UCC and Restatement language into your notes, including the relevant notes and comments at the end of each one, and then attack his questions. If I must skip anything, it is the questions because they, alone, will take hours to complete. Usually I will peruse his questions just to ensure that I have an idea of what he’s looking for, but Contracts could be a full-time job but for the fact I have five other subjects to study. So, Monday night, I spent about three hours preparing for class.
On Mondays we are out of class by 2:00 p.m. Usually I grab a quick lunch at the cafeteria and then head over to the library to prepare for the next day. By the time that I had prepped for Tuesday's classes, it was almost 10:00 p.m. That’s when I pulled out my Foundations outline and began studying for the mid-term that was a mere three days away. This took me until midnight, when the library closed. I headed home and had to wash a load of clothes before going to bed.
I was in bed before 1:00 a.m. and up at 5:30 a.m. on Tuesday to go to the gym for a quick “wake me up” workout. This gave me enough time to get to school about 20 minutes before class so that I could review my Torts notes before class started at 8:00 a.m. And this was the schedule that I had for the entire week. Get up at 5:30; leave home around 7:30; get home around midnight. Five days of that can wear a body out! And, I know from personal experience, of course; but I also see my younger classmates dragging their tail feathers too.
Even still, so much was NOT accomplished last week. I did not update my outlines in any class. I spent all of my time just preparing for the next day and preparing for the mid-term. I did not have time to use any of the commercial materials to reiterate class discussions or case briefs. I did not have time to meet with a professor to answer questions about confusing areas. Consequently, I did not have time to look for a summer job or a summer study abroad program. Basically, the day-to-day routine was just to keep my head above water and forget how tired I was from treading water.
Today is Sunday, and I am still tired; that amazes me. For the past two days I have avoided the alarm clock and just let my body sleep until it was ready to wake up, hoping that would help. I’m sure it has, but I still don’t feel like I’m at 100%. Nevertheless, there is much to do during spring break. This break is like a gift (of “time,” which ranks right up there with “air”), so I’ve got to appreciate its worth and let my body catch up when it can. If I’m lucky, I will only work about 12 hours a day; as you can see, that would be a luxury.
Friday, March 02, 2007
This ain't pretty...
Today is one of those days when I just want to quit. Yesterday I wanted to quit too. Actually, this entire week has just snowballed, careening out of control, and crashed into a Friday night when I am thinking about doing anything else on earth except law school.
Here's a thought: Bartending school only takes three weeks, instead of three years; you only work nights; and everybody loves you!
The other option is to spend the rest of the student loan on the Harley Davidson of my dreams, gas it up, point it west, and drive.
Quitting is a real possibility. The best thing about quitting is that it takes so little effort. There are no sleepless nights, no research, no drafting, editing or proofreading involved. Quitting is so sweet because all it requires is nothing. And, while you’re doing nothing, you can also do other things, like watch a ballgame, take a walk, talk on the phone, or sleep. Quitting means you get to be normal again; and normal sounds like a great place to be.
Sleep would be nice. Casual reading would be a luxury. Tonight I temporarily quit being a law student and just vegetated on the couch for a few hours watching mindless tv sitcoms. Now, I feel guilty because I really haven’t quit, and all I did was waste valuable time that cannot be redeemed. Hmmm...guilt may be a side effect of quitting that will need an anecdote.
I find myself envying my classmates who quit. They come by to give us a hug and say, "This is my last day." On the inside I am screaming, "Take me with you!" How brave of them to know that it’s time to quit, and do so. The body, mind, and spirit can only take so much; we all have our limits. I just feel like I have reached mine. The optimist will say, "oh, next week will be better." But, the truth is, all of the optimists looked at the unbelievably demanding syllabi for this semester's classes, and they quit. Now, the pessimists remain to see who can survive ten more weeks of the 1L year briefing dozens of cases per week, preparing motions and briefs, and outlining for class. The sky is not falling, but in the ten weeks that remain, the cold truth is there is no respite. So, do we wait for the official crash and burn (news at 11)? Or do we just quit and cut our losses? Either way, it ain’t pretty.
Here's a thought: Bartending school only takes three weeks, instead of three years; you only work nights; and everybody loves you!
The other option is to spend the rest of the student loan on the Harley Davidson of my dreams, gas it up, point it west, and drive.
Quitting is a real possibility. The best thing about quitting is that it takes so little effort. There are no sleepless nights, no research, no drafting, editing or proofreading involved. Quitting is so sweet because all it requires is nothing. And, while you’re doing nothing, you can also do other things, like watch a ballgame, take a walk, talk on the phone, or sleep. Quitting means you get to be normal again; and normal sounds like a great place to be.
Sleep would be nice. Casual reading would be a luxury. Tonight I temporarily quit being a law student and just vegetated on the couch for a few hours watching mindless tv sitcoms. Now, I feel guilty because I really haven’t quit, and all I did was waste valuable time that cannot be redeemed. Hmmm...guilt may be a side effect of quitting that will need an anecdote.
I find myself envying my classmates who quit. They come by to give us a hug and say, "This is my last day." On the inside I am screaming, "Take me with you!" How brave of them to know that it’s time to quit, and do so. The body, mind, and spirit can only take so much; we all have our limits. I just feel like I have reached mine. The optimist will say, "oh, next week will be better." But, the truth is, all of the optimists looked at the unbelievably demanding syllabi for this semester's classes, and they quit. Now, the pessimists remain to see who can survive ten more weeks of the 1L year briefing dozens of cases per week, preparing motions and briefs, and outlining for class. The sky is not falling, but in the ten weeks that remain, the cold truth is there is no respite. So, do we wait for the official crash and burn (news at 11)? Or do we just quit and cut our losses? Either way, it ain’t pretty.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Quotes
Here's some quotes that I've been saving for a while. Some will make you laugh; some will make you gasp. Just another day in the life of a law student:
Civil Procedure professor’s comment when distributing mid-term grades…."I didn't give anyone a C- because I didn't want to encourage anyone."
Real property professor’s humble opinion about his real property knowledge, “I know quite a bit, in fact, I know everything."
Contracts professor brought a picture of a child he is sponsoring to class and told us “we have a visitor today.” Then, midway through class, he realized that he had forgotten his UCC book and snapped at the picture, “Abby! Why didn’t you remind me to bring my book!”
Professor: Mr. Smith, why don’t you tell us how you calculated those damages?
Mr. Smith: Do you want me to write it on the board?
Professor: I’ll write it; I don’t think your arms will reach.
Professor: What was the flaw in the appellant’s argument?
Student: Well, clearly, the ….
Professor: Clearly? CLEARLY! Praise be to God in the high heavens! You’re the one we’ve been waiting for! After volumes of cases and centuries of appeals, YOU are the one who can CLEARLY unclog our court system. Someone alert Justice Roberts!
Student: I don't think so.
Class: (silent gasp)
Professor: Don't EVER tell me "I don't think so." You either KNOW SO or you will research and get back to me.
Professor: Mrs. Brown, you’re lead counsel today in Bob’s Ready to Wear v. Weaver.
Mrs. Brown: Sir, I accidentally read tomorrow’s assignment instead of today’s.
Professor: So, you’re not prepared for today’s discussion?
Mrs. Brown: No, sir.
Professor: Well, then, we look forward to seeing you tomorrow. (Translation: you may now leave the classroom.)
Professor (frustrated that vocal minority in class will not agree with his legal philosophy): Well, we’re going to move on to another subject…reasonable minds may follow; unreasonable minds may continue in their ignorance.
Student to Professor: Would you repeat the question?
Professor: No.
Random professor ramblings: I hope you all practice and you all enjoy it. But, if you don't, don't lay carpet for a living. You can make better use of your law degree. (Well, let's hope so.)
Professor: What is the requirement for summary judgment under Rule 54?
Student #1: (no answer)
Professor: You MUST KNOW these rules COLD!
Student #2: Are you referring to Rule 56?
Professor: Oh.
Civil Procedure professor’s comment when distributing mid-term grades…."I didn't give anyone a C- because I didn't want to encourage anyone."
Real property professor’s humble opinion about his real property knowledge, “I know quite a bit, in fact, I know everything."
Contracts professor brought a picture of a child he is sponsoring to class and told us “we have a visitor today.” Then, midway through class, he realized that he had forgotten his UCC book and snapped at the picture, “Abby! Why didn’t you remind me to bring my book!”
Professor: Mr. Smith, why don’t you tell us how you calculated those damages?
Mr. Smith: Do you want me to write it on the board?
Professor: I’ll write it; I don’t think your arms will reach.
Professor: What was the flaw in the appellant’s argument?
Student: Well, clearly, the ….
Professor: Clearly? CLEARLY! Praise be to God in the high heavens! You’re the one we’ve been waiting for! After volumes of cases and centuries of appeals, YOU are the one who can CLEARLY unclog our court system. Someone alert Justice Roberts!
Student: I don't think so.
Class: (silent gasp)
Professor: Don't EVER tell me "I don't think so." You either KNOW SO or you will research and get back to me.
Professor: Mrs. Brown, you’re lead counsel today in Bob’s Ready to Wear v. Weaver.
Mrs. Brown: Sir, I accidentally read tomorrow’s assignment instead of today’s.
Professor: So, you’re not prepared for today’s discussion?
Mrs. Brown: No, sir.
Professor: Well, then, we look forward to seeing you tomorrow. (Translation: you may now leave the classroom.)
Professor (frustrated that vocal minority in class will not agree with his legal philosophy): Well, we’re going to move on to another subject…reasonable minds may follow; unreasonable minds may continue in their ignorance.
Student to Professor: Would you repeat the question?
Professor: No.
Random professor ramblings: I hope you all practice and you all enjoy it. But, if you don't, don't lay carpet for a living. You can make better use of your law degree. (Well, let's hope so.)
Professor: What is the requirement for summary judgment under Rule 54?
Student #1: (no answer)
Professor: You MUST KNOW these rules COLD!
Student #2: Are you referring to Rule 56?
Professor: Oh.
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