Frequent Citations

Fleeting Friendship

Law school -- I suppose like any other trial by fire/endurance test -- tends to encourage close and lasting friendships.  There's something about sitting at the library together at 1 am, frantically trying to finish a paper, or seeing each other from 8 am to midnight for two weeks straight while you're cite-checking law review comments, that really lets you get to know and like your classmates.  And if not the long hours in the library, there are the daily encounters in the lounge between classes where you trade comments on the latest gossip or reading for class.

Some classmates stand out for their cleverness, others for their oddities (especially at my school).  And some stand out for being an all-around charming and interesting person, bright and funny and kind and someone whose company is simply a pleasure.  One such of my classmates died yesterday, so unexpectedly I still can't believe it even though the news of his death hit the wire services.

I knew him so briefly, and others knew him better, but I truly liked and admired him.  My heart goes out to his family, and all his many friends.  GF will leave a hole in all our lives, forever.

But I suspect that he would cut short any mawkishness by making some sacrilegious and brutally funny remark.  It was one of my favorite things about him -- he was a man of sharp humor and a keen appreciation for the absurd.

It Comes To This

The other night I was coming home and saw two Army transports of some kind parked in front of one of the ritzy hotels by the Park.  A whole swarm of Army men in uniform milled about on the sidewalk, smoking and drinking and looking the way Army men in their dress uniforms do--yummy handsome and distinguished.  It finally occurred to me that the next day was Veterans Day and they were probably in town for the battleship reopening hoopla or something.

This morning a whole line of Deloreans loitered in front of my office building.  One of them was green!  There must have been six or eight of them total, which was quite a sight.  A couple of dents here and there aside they still looked in great shape.  Funny, it's quite the dated design now, though, I think.  It wasn't a classic design like the English do where one Rolls or Jag or Bentley doesn't ever look that much different from another  (leaving aside the truly ancient Rolls, perhaps).  And it wasn't a stunning or sleek design like the Italians often do, timeless in their outrageously muscular way. 

Still, I enjoyed seeing them.

Tomorrow morning they release our Bar results.  Yeah.  I'm a wreck.  But I want to say now, for the record, before I get my results:  I love my job.  I really love what I do, even the dorky low-man-on-the-totem-pole stuff, and not just because they pay me well to do it.  So I hope I get to keep it.

Ack.

Deja Vu Again

I keep running into the same people, sometimes on purpose and sometimes by accident. They all have the same bleary-eyed and careworn look... yeah, former classmates.

I've run into them at coffee shops and on the bus, coming and going from class. And, of course, on a friend's patio where we gathered last night for drinks and commiseration. It's nice to keep seeing people for a little while before we scatter to the four corners.

We compare notes on bar exams, which states are covering which subjects, who's making flash cards, where people are studying. Sometimes we break out of the bar exam stranglehold on our lives and talk about clerkships and bar trips, or who's still looking for a place to live and have you sold your place yet? me neither.

We know each other so well in some ways, not at all in others.

Fearing Flailing

Last night it was a spectacularly beautiful evening, temperate and clear with an enormous moon, and TFL took me for a long ride on Bonnie. It was a long enough ride that my mind finally disengaged and floated, happy to be on the bike and watching the moon and not studying for the bar. Then I came home and worked for another couple of hours, staying up too late once again.

LL often has a way of capturing my thoughts on family and husbands. It's funny, even though she's at a far different place in her life in terms of the husband-and-family timeline, she's the only other woman in our class who understands from experience the pull they exert even when you really really need to find a cave to hide in until you've learned enough to pass whatever test is looming. (Other classmates are married, so they definitely understand some of it, but she's the only other woman in the class who's a mom.)

Sometimes they're a huge distraction, and sometimes that's a wonderful thing. Sometimes they're a huge help, too, like when they cook for us or listen to our whining give us a big hug when we most need it. Either way, my life is infinitely better for having my husband and children in it, so I'll just cope with being woefully behind in bar prep (there are practice questions? really? and where would I find those and the time in which to do them?) and not let myself fall into despair (yet) and start flailing around in an endless fit of panic over the test the lecturers have informed us is "fearful."

I'll save that for next week. Or maybe the week after. I might have to have a conniption fit about the flat not selling before I get around to freaking out (more) about the bar.

Lameness Of Official Photography

The graduation had an official photographer who took extremely lame pictures. He didn't even make it to the hooding ceremony, so none of the pictures have that beautiful impressive hood in them! Good thing my family was there taking lots of pictures, all of which were much better anyway. Here I am chatting with a friend.

The Obligatory Whither Now? Post

Lots of law school bloggers find themselves wondering, whither now? Do we keep blogging when we can no longer complain about professors? Is there much point to blogging when we can't say one word about work, which will consume 110% of our waking hours?

I started this blog to keep my family apprised of my continued existence while buried in the non-stop fun and games that is law school. I don't see my life becoming less hectic, even if it becomes less share-able.

One of the main benefits of the blog for me has been the way it forced me to look up from my mound of work sometimes and find something else to say about life. Whether it was noticing that the trees were, in fact, blooming again, or ranting about some current event, I would occasionally break out of the law school mind set and that was good for me.

So for the moment I think I'll continue. I'll regale you with the thrills of my Bar preparation adventures, agonize over the unsold status of our flat, keep you up to speed on our progress to the new and improved location.

Bonus picture: GirlChild's wall pocket with a flower.

One JD Degree: Check.

Not until I held the card with my name and line number did I believe--truly believe--that I was getting my degree.

But I did!

There I am with my snazzy outfit and some friends. Pretty cool hood, huh?

We dug out TFL's hood for comparison. Mine is bigger. But yeah, his is very pretty.

But my hat is totally awesome, no?

Pomp, circumstance, a zillion pictures, and lots of friends and family -- and a hood, and a diploma. (PBB's diploma is much much prettier but I had the better hat.) So there we go. Three years, endless blood sweat and tears, and a lot of laughter later, and I'm a JD. Heh.

The Honors List

The Honors List came out today. One person made highest honors, which doesn't necessarily happen every year, so that's rather cool. What pleases me is that more than the usual number of women are on it. In fact, a stunningly large number of women are on it, including a bunch from Law Review. So my hearty congratulations to them all. There are a couple who made Coif too, which is just a heck of a thing. I'm very proud of each of them.

And no, for the first time I can recall I didn't make honors. I knew I wouldn't. In some ways I think I am bitter about grades, and I think I've decided it's ok to be bitter about them. Being annoyed when I don't get a better grade in a subject I know inside and out, or for a class I killed myself for, is not an unreasonable reaction. But whatever. I'm reconciled to two things: my mind is slower than it was when I was a sweet young thing, and I have other stuff going on in my life. No one on the honors list was raising teenagers. Besides, even if I stink at 3-hour exams, and never conquered my exam anxiety, I learned an awful lot. I met great people, made good friends, and most of all,

I made the list of graduates!

So that will be me, wearing an awesome hat and getting a diploma and hood, and generally reveling in having achieved a life-long dream with a modicum of style.

Now I Feel Done!

The last paper is done. Everything is done. DONE.

The feeling is wonderful beyond belief.

Solidly Nice

Above the Law, that source of all real news in the legal world, had a link to an op-ed in the Washington Post. Written by a 1L at Yale, it describes the overachieving but not very nice people with whom she goes to school. And I thought to myself, huh.

That has not been my experience. I go to school with people who are that overachieving, amazing, inspiring. They are also nice. They not only send notes, they often do so without being asked. They'll not only lend textbooks, they'll sit down and explain tricky concepts, or critique your paper, or moot you. They'll support you when your life goes down the toilet and celebrate with you when you triumph.

And they're nice in the little ways that can make a difference--the nod in the hall, the offer of a lift, the compliment on your haircut. True, some of them have no manners at all in the library, but most of them are relentlessly polite and often truly kind. By and large, I think I go to school with very good people. It's not a regional thing either, because this is a national school.

But it's an interesting point, that often those overachieving type A++ people are not always kind to their neighbor. It reminds me of my all-time favorite quote from a movie:

My mother once said to me, "Elwood" -- she always called me Elwood -- "Elwood, in this world you must be oh so smart or oh so pleasant." For years I tried smart. I recommend pleasant.