It may be Finals Eve, and I may have a mere 6 page outline of the 30 page brief I need to write for tomorrow, and I MAY not have a single outline finished, contrary to my best of intentions entering the semester, but last night, hanging in bed with the boyf while nom noming on some insta-mac (generic brand Easy Mac) and a glass of Chuck was so totally worth it. Like my own personal law school wine and cheese party (a la college days of boxed wine and Kraft singles tasting parties, only a hair classier).
3 Interviews in 3 Days: The good, the bad, and the strange
I finally turned the corner of my 3rd interview in the same number of days, the law student’s favorite two-sided coin…balancing the joy of landing the interview with the stress of actually going through them. Let’s look at the count:
The good: I managed to keep it together for all three. Trust me when I say this is nothing short of a miracle for me. To make it through three days of interviews (with a 150 mile drive in between #2 and #3) without any major faux pas is a huge accomplishment for this law student. There were actually a few more positive developments in the mean time, but in the interest of not spilling my whole interviews on the internet for the worlds to see, I’ll keep them to myself. We’ll leave it at the fact that no disasters = at least 5 good points.
The bad: I already found out I did not get one position, and the other was a phone interview. If anyone has witnessed me babble in person, you know it’s even worse on the phone when I can’t see the awkward expression on your face. I thought it was worse than it probably was, though, right? Right?
The strange: Today’s interview involved a last minute drive (mentioned under “The good”) and a hasty-pack job. It culminated with me in my parents’ kitchen this morning, receiving hair advice from my father (really?), a “You don’t have any lipstick?” grimace from my mother (love you Mom!), and a glittery binder to replace the normal leather portfolio I would normally carry. I think this all leans more to “good” than “bad,” so I’ll consider this interview season an overall win, at least in the positive experience column.
I may not even have an Italian Mama, but growing up I had an Ida, which is just as good, if not better. My family’s surrogate grandmother (and our friends actual Nana), looked after all of us neighborhood kids, made us pizza lunches, and let us watch her soaps with her when we wanted a little attention. She also would set us straight with a stern word and a sharp pat to the tush when we were winy, troublesome, or just generally deserved it. On really stressful days, when things seem to be going wrong in and out of school, and there’s never enough time or money, I realize more than ever I need to be my own Ida. I have to force a bit of food down my throat (preferably spaghetti — I’m not exactly a stress eater, but I always feel better after a bowl of pasta), give myself a supportive hug and a pep talk, and then, sometimes, okay a lot of times, fine every time, tell myself to get the F over it and buck up. Because the great thing about an Italian Mama, or an Ida, or really any such wise woman in your life, is that she can be sympathetic and strong AND manage to not take any crap all at the same time.
“In applying the doctrine, the court is merely doing what the court thinks the donee would have done but for the ineptness of the donee’s lawyer.”—Nearing the end of a semester in Trusts and Estates, and the only things I have learned are 1) how to write a bad trust or will, and 2) it is inevitable that I will do so, because lawyers always do. <Sigh>
Which is better than 0 for 2, I suppose. This morning fully intended to wake up early, get to 7:30 mass (aka, the short one), and then hit the gym so I could be in school, working by 10:00 at the latest. Made it to church by the Homily, and then rushed over to the gym…only to find it’s closed. Apparently civilized/sane/rational people aren’t trying to work out at 8:15 a.m. on a Sunday. Where can I find the wild/crazy/irrational gym?
Have a short list of legally productive things you can do while watching TV. For those times when a) I try so hard to tell myself I’ll get more work done but it’s 11:30 and I’ve been reading the same page for the past half hour and/or b) I swear watching the latest episode of Modern Family is the best thing for me, yet I’ll be stressed the whole time about all the things I have NOT done, I have my list. My favorite at the current moment: highlighting the pages of the reporter I’m using on my Lexis printouts of cases. Seriously mindless, but it has to get done at SOME point if I’m going to have any hope of efficiently finding pin cites while writing my next brief. Another good one: plugging holdings into my Con Law case chart. I now brief my cases with one sentence on the facts and one sentence on the holding, so it’s really easy to just copy these into my Con Law flashcards that I’m making. Are both of these super boring? Yes. Are they mindless things I can do at the end of the night when I know I should still accomplish something but omgsh I really need to rest my brain a little. Hells yes. And hence the recommendation.
It’s like I can’t escape myself. Wanted to go watch the Moot Court competition’s finals at the courthouse yesterday, but forgot that I would need a suit to do so. Given that my life roughly approaches law student meets constantly traveling consultant meets homeless person living out of her car (read: I stay at the boyf’s frequently given his proximity to school, my non-proximity, his failure to register his out of state vehicle—necessary if you wish to visit and park in DC frequently without being accused of living there but not paying taxes— and finally the fact that I’m more or less fond of him) I had packed my bag Wednesday night to last me through Saturday, including three sets of gym clothes, t-shirts for any occasion, but, alas, no suits. Given what traffic is here on a Friday, I was not about to go home, so I dug through my trunk and found a slightly wrinkled black suit that I had been planning to take to the the dry cleaners at some point. I decided my nicest t-shirt, a plain black v-neck, would suffice underneath, and only had to get by without anyone noticing my Sperry Topsiders. Because it was either them or my adored Adidas running shoes (pictured in my little tumblr icon with less adored law book and slightly more adored martini glasses). And I had both of them because I have issues wearing shoes without socks, so I would never keep backup pumps in my car…ew. Ah, Lemon. We have seen the enemy and it is us, Liz, just you and me.
Sometimes you have a really stressful day, in which you can’t understand why you’ve felt so insecure lately, and you have application after interview after application, and are more than 45 minutes late to meet a friend because you can’t. move. in. this. city’s. traffic let alone find a parking spot, and you think you find one in front of the Portuguese Embassy, only to discover that both your front and back end stick into “No Parking Tow Zone” territory, because really the space was designed only to fit a mini cooper, and finally you break into tears because that’s the only thing you know how to do.
And then sometimes you pull it together, find another parking space, meet your friend only slightly under an hour late, and 5 minutes later, laughing over seaweed salad and Sapporos, in a bar that just 6 years prior you both belted karaoke in during a snow storm, find yourself congratulating him on his recent proposal during a trip to Singapore on vacation from Saudi, prior to his move to London, and you realize your friends — and by extension your life — are pretty effing awesome.
“The formulation adopted by the House is pregnant with litigious mischief.”—Comment from the Senate Judiciary Committee on FRE 501. The fact that I find this amusing validates my decision to go to law school, even on this, my night of Evidence from 5:00 - 11:00.
The eye-popping headache previously posted about (here) came about on my last day of internship for the semester. I finally cured it by turning out the lights in my office (yes, I had my own office, suhweet, right?) and nursing a DDPC which, because I’m me, I dressed in a koozie. (Warm hand, cold soda makes for a happy TrueL.) I must have looked like I was nursing the biggest hangover of all time, just to say, “I’m outta here, y’all, bam!”
In all seriousness, I loved my internship and I hope everyone at work realized it, bizarre office mannerisms aside. Working twelve hours a week on top of all my classes killed me a little bit inside, but at least it meant my hours were up for the semester suuuuper early, I got my credit, and got out so I can get my act together just in time for finals. Which is what I’m supposedly doing now. Speaking of which…I’m out, lights out! G’night gang!
So I will go to le bed. Having set out to apply to 6 summer jobs, I realized I missed the deadline for one, successfully applied to another, and simply can’t take it anymore. Tomorrow I shall emerge refreshed, go to the gym, and tackle anew! Bam.
Add to the list of things I can't do while walking: drink water
I’m walking from my car into the law school building, just having left my second to last day at my internship and thinking, “Look at me, walking more or less successfully with both a backpack and heels on, dressed rather professionally if I do say so, why I’m almost put together!” And I go to take a sip from my water bottle…and spill…all down my face and red wool coat. Right as an actual professional was passing me on the sidewalk.
In case you hadn’t realized it yet, I am Liz Lemon, only less cool, and in law school. “Almost put together”? Emphasis on almost.
I may not have finished my job applications, con law reading, OR professional responsibility, but rocking out to my latest stellar iPod playlist, walking a good clip toward the subway to go out on a Saturday, receiving semi-drunken text messages from the boyf, AND I got to go for a run today? So back in my element.
I am a self-professed lover of winter, but even I hate saying goodbye to the daylight. I was going to run at 7:00, but it’s already looking super dark, so PR will have to wait until after my workout. I’m out!
Oh hello there. I blog. These past two weeks were a whirlwind of work and travel and, if I’m being honest, slightly illogical and highly dramatic emotion, culminating in wild highs and lows none of which deserve to be rehashed online and publicly right now. Suffice it to say, I’m back.
And on that note, introducing two categories of posts: Survival Tools and Fun Law Student Rules. Survival Tool #1 was actually adopted from Roommate and my undergrad rules. Roommate, it bears mentioning, is no longer my roommate. But she was my roommate not once but twice—my first year in law school (also hers, at a different law school) and my last year in college (her junior year). And she took to calling me “my love” when I got back from studying abroad and realized how odd it was that for 6 months I’d been called “mi amor.” And shared a forced triple with me in our fabulous technically listed as on-campus but actually 3 blocks off-campus apartment. Across the street from *our* college bar. Clearly, we’re closely connected.
Back in my senior year, when I was working and taking 18 credits, including intensive Russian every morning at 9:00, because “seriously this could be my last chance!”, and being president of my singing group, and getting 3 hours of sleep each night and generally running myself into the ground, we came up with the fabulous rationale of “You have to eat sometime.” You could talk me into almost any socialization with that justification. And so I continuously advocate for NOT taking your lunch into the library, or your books to the caf, and actually eating in a social way. It’s better for digestion. And that way, if you ever think you don’t have time to catch up with a friend, you can always remember, I have to eat sometime.