The Spring Break

To my friends and family in Bloomington:

Thank you for the soul nourishing spring break.  You reminded me of all the reasons I wanted to come to law school and of all the reasons that I wanted to be in Columbia.  You reminded me of all that I left behind, but also of all that I have to look forward to.  You reminded me that grades and ranks do not define me.  You reminded me of the importance of family and friends.  You reminded me that we share common beliefs and values.  You reminded me that I am not old.  You reminded me that when we are all drowning it does not matter who is drowning more, and when we are swimming we should reach out to those who are not.  You reminded me of relationships built on trust.  You reminded me that shared histories can bridge into new relationships.  You reminded me that you are the audience for this blog, and that even when you don’t comment, you are reading.  You reminded me that if my car breaks down, people will be there with jumper cables. (Ok, that one is literal – thanks Kandi and Ron).  This was truly the best vacation since starting law school (of course it didn’t end in a shocking break up either. . . so it might be like comparing apples and oranges).  But honestly, it felt so good to spend time with all of you.  It felt so good to be myself and not feel apologetic for that.  Thank you.  I miss you already.  

The Spring Snow

It’s spring and it’s snowing.  The great thing about a last burst of cold in the spring is that when it’s over you appreciate the spring that much more.  I can’t wait to wear capris and t-shirts.  I can’t wait to walk the dogs and not want to rush back inside.  I can’t wait until Spring Break (Just four days and one humungous appellate brief away).  Anybody interested in a happy hour in Bloomington on Saturday?  

The Seventh Grade

What is it about law school that makes me feel like I am in seventh grade?  Is it the lockers or the cliques?  Is it the backstabbing or the snubbing?  Is it the gossip or the competition?  The worst part for me?  That lately I’ve felt that I am just as afflicted with the seventh grade illness as everybody else.  Recently I even found myself asking other people, “Do you think he likes me?”  Ppppppllllleeeeaaasse!  Save me now! Maybe I should just send him a note (through two or three friends) with a little yes/no box! I hate it when I don’t act like me.  

Three Pluses and a Wish

Last week in review:  

+ A Saturday evening conversation that made me smile and laugh.

+ The possibility of a part time job doing something I want to do.

+ Buying more fun clothes at the NEW Kohls.

Wish: That I had written a hundred things that I thought of immediately after my Property exam was over.

The Hope

I usually write my blog entries in my mind as I walk between the parking lot and the law school and back again.  But lately, I find that the things that pop into my head are hard to articulate and harder to share.  They span the spectrum from law school to first dates, from ancient history to a far away future.  Gene read my blog recently and left me some phone message about how he was so happy that I was “so happy,” and I thought, “Am I so happy?”  And the truth is that some days, in some moments I am “so happy.”  Other days I am not “so happy.”  Overall, I’m not as happy as I usually find myself to be, but I’ve never been good at admitting that.  The tendrils of my life are frighteningly unraveled and I am having trouble finding (and holding onto) the eternal sense of hope that has guided me through moments so much worse than these.  The energy (and determination) to keep reaching for that elusive hope is at times exhausting.  And really, who wants to read or write about that?