Adventures in File-Digging: A Legal Sonnet

So I was going through my old files on my laptop the other evening and came across a file of things I'd done for a Creative Writing class I took in fall semester 2008. This was the first semester of my 2L year in law school and I was taking the creative writing class as a lark. During the poetry unit we had to write a sonnet. Now, I don't know about you (assuming you ever even thought about such a thing), but I can NEVER come up with good ideas for sonnet topics. So I turned to the old adage and wrote what I knew, or at least what was foremost in my mind at the time: my Wills & Estates reading.


Sonnet: Mnemonic, In re Estate of Wright
Exactly one year and four months before
his death, Lorenzo Wright set out to make
his will. Since Lo’s attorney was a bore,
in order to dispose of his Salt Lake
estate and property in Venice, he
decided that Grace Thomas from the post
office would do: she was a notary
public. Lo died. His heirs read the will. Most
got just a buck. The will was challenged (duh),
since even the will’s witnesses said Lo
was nuts. (Like how he gave his neighbor a
fish soaked in kerosene…) The court said “No.”
So: if you know your heirs, stuff and the drill,
Slight madness won’t invalidate your will.


Apologies to those who saw this on facebook already. I'm just trying to get into the habit of updating the blog more often.

OH MY STINKING HECK I ACTUALLY PASSED.

And best of all, so did Shallow Man!

WE BOTH PASSED THE BAR, YO!

(Our poor kid officially will have two lawyers for parents. Maybe you should pray for him. . . .)

Waiting. Impatiently.

Yeah, we still haven't gotten our bar results yet.

But a lot of our friends in other states are getting their results. The good news posts on Facebook keep trickling in.

And my confidence is steadily being undermined.

See, going into the bar I was So. Not. Ready. As in, knew I was not going to pass. Failure was imminent.

Coming out, I at least felt cautiously optimistic, and I've managed to hold on to that feeling of cautious optimism in the intervening weeks (it helped that there have been plenty of distractions as I try to get ready for this impending baby, but that's a whole different "waiting" story).

Now that the moment of truth is creeping up on us (even though I don't know for sure when it will actually get here), that feeling is rapidly dissipating and I am not afraid to say that I am more or less terrified.

So, please, if you see me in the next few days/weeks and I haven't made a big "OH MY STINKING HECK I ACTUALLY PASSED" type of announcement, PLEASE, do not, under any circumstances, ask me any questions about the bar or bar results. Because that will mean that either 1) I still haven't heard back and am falling further into my paranoia and panic, or 2) I have heard back and have no desire to discuss it.

Thank you!


Also, please refrain from posting helpful, optimistic comments on this post, as I know you want to do because you're my friends (I assume) and are awesome and supportive like that. Because people do fail the bar regularly. And telling me you know I passed won't help my panic right now because that will only make me dread facing you later and having to confess that all your confidence was grossly misplaced. Wait to give me the "Well, duh, I KNEW you would pass" comments until I actually know that I've passed. Thanks!

It's Over!

We have finally reached that mythical period of which our family has been dreaming for months:

AFTER THE BAR.

(It's been said so often in our house the last few weeks that we were about to get it embroidered on our towels, like a family crest.)

And my brain is a puddle of goo which is taking its dear sweet time reconstituting, so here's a quick summary to tide you over until I can get this blog back to its regularly scheduled snark.

Taking the Bar: Icky.

Sleep schedule: Shot.

Chairs at the Bar: Eeeeeeevil! (I mean, at least they were padded, but they were still folding chairs which meant zero back support which means me=miserable after the first three hours. And then there were four and a half more hours. And seven more the next day. . . .)

Number of Pens of Mine Which Mysteriously Vanished, Possibly with the Participation of Bar Exam Proctors: Two. (One black, one blue.)

Our attitude after the essay exam: Deep relief.

Our attitude after the first half of the multiple choice exam: Cautious optimism.

Our attitude after the second half of the multiple choice exam: Exhausted. But it's over. Slightly-more-cautious-than-before optimism.

Amount of time before I have to think about this exam in any detail again: 8 to 10 weeks.

New family motto: It's Over!

Number of guilt-free naps I have taken since yesterday: Three.

Baby's take on the entire experience: KICK THE BLADDER!!!!!

Ah, well. At least some things stay consistent. (In other news, we are officially in the third trimester and now I can FINALLY start getting ready for this kid. Wahoo!)

Ho. Ly. Cow.

Well, the first day of the Bar is done. And for the first time since I started studying, I feel like there is actually a chance I could pass this thing.

I've been experiencing panic attacks about this off and on for the past few weeks. (Just ask Shallow Man. Poor guy. Seriously, Bar Study + Pregnancy Hormones + The Inability to Sleep for More than a Three Hour Stretch = Me + Crippling Panic Attacks = Not Fun for Anyone.) Including one last night, which was NOT helpful. So we sat down together and read some scriptures and I just said a prayer to the effect of, "I'm putting it all in Your hands now, God." And I stopped worrying.

And the miraculous occurred. I had something to write (maybe not something, you know, intelligent, but at least something) for every question. The big, hive-inducing, oh-please-oh-please-don't-ask-me-THAT subjects were not on the essay test, and I actually got almost all of my "dream topics." I couldn't have asked for a better distribution of subjects.

I never would have predicted that I'd come out of the essay day of the Bar feeling like anything other than crap. And feeling this good, well, that's just icing on the cake.

Now all I have to do is live through the multiple choice tomorrow and it will All. Be. Over.

I'm getting a grin just thinking about it.


Thanks to all of you who have offered prayers, well wishes and any other kind of support these past few weeks and the past few days especially. It's meant a lot to both Shallow Man and myself. We love you all!

Is there a doctor in the house?

No, there is not a doctor in the house.

Because actually, there are now TWO doctors in the house.

That's right. Shallow Man and I have both officially graduated from law school and are the proud owners of shiny new initials after our names: J.D. Juris Doctor. (Dr. Scritchy, I presume?)

Yeah, except nobody really calls lawyers "Dr." Except right after convocation while we're all still giddy and saying "Wahoo!"

But still. Those initials are still there. And even though a juris doctor is the red-headed stepchild of the doctorate degree family, I still technically am a doctor.

Wahoo!



P.S. Also, in even-bigger-wahoo-type-news, today was the first day in longer than I care to count that I haven't had to take any anti-nausea medication. Figures that the morning sickness would ease up right as soon as I have no classes to miss. :) I've only been in the second trimester for about three days and I'm loving it already.

The current status.

My classes are finished.

The Major Paper (neigh!) is finished and turned in.

I've completed all the work for 2.5 of my classes.

All that's left are 2 finals (both open book), 3 mini (and rather silly and unimportant) papers, and one book review.

I'd say we're making good progress towards that three-week mark.


Now I just need to get my house clean for Geek Night tonight. . . .

Sweet and tender

I wanted to take a brief break from this last big push to finish my Major Paper (neigh!) to share this link with all y'all. I ran into it yesterday and really liked it, but haven't had a chance to put it up here until now.

Amazing what the prospect of another hour with the Major Paper (neigh!) will do to your unimportant-but-it-would-be-nice-to-do list.

At any rate, this is one of the sweetest things I have read in a while. Enjoy!

And please don't be deterred by the fact that most of what I have read in the last while is stuff related to my Major Paper (neeeeeeeiiiigh!); even if I had just finished reading Persuasion,* this would still have been a strong contender.


*This whole scene is amazing, but if you want to cut to the chase, fast forward to 2:20.

Three weeks.

At a time when most of my fellow 3Ls are waxing nostalgic about this being the last week of classes, probably EVER for most of them, I'm too busy and stressed to be nostalgic. I will be nostalgic later; I'll think about it tomorrow. Whatever you like.

For right now, I'm just repeating my new mantra:

Three weeks. Three weeks. Three weeks.

Three weeks from today it will all be over. I will have my JD. I will not need to write any more papers. I will not need to read textbooks. I will not need to stress about how I keep missing class because I'm still sick the majority of the time.

I will have graduated.

And what's more, I will officially be in my second trimester, no matter which way you count it. Which means, with any luck, that I won't feel so sick anymore, either. I might even have some energy by then. (Of course, I really could use some of that energy now to get through the next few weeks, but that's another story.)

So. Three weeks. Three weeks. Three weeks.

I can do this.

But Mother, I don't WANT to edit an article about civil liability!

(said in my best Wendy voice)

Argh.

I have two or three great posts I want to write up for the blog but I can't because I'm supposed to be editing an article for the law journal.

I don't LIKE editing articles for the law journal. First off, I don't think it's the editor's (namely, my) job to write your thesis sentence, roadmaps, arguments and footnotes for you if you couldn't do it yourself. Is this the way it works for all journals? Because with my limited experience in publishing, it seems like editors usually give the author ideas, suggestions and feedback about what work needs to be done and then make her do it herself. (And why is our journal accepting articles that have no discernible theses to begin with? Who knows.)

The point is, there are so many more interesting and useful things I'd like to be doing. Cleaning off the kitchen desk. Baking bread. Exercising while catching up on Gilmore Girls. Playing old-school video games. Blogging.

Come on, people! Don't you understand? There are cupcakes to decorate (a new-found love), scarves to knit (because I'm totally going to teach myself to do that now), hats to crochet, old blogs to read, new blogs to discover, recipes to try, offices to organize, houses to redecorate, numbers to paint by, and OH MY GOODNESS books to read.

SO. MANY. BOOKS. (Some of them written by highly attractive Welshmen.)

FOR THE LOVE OF PETE, THERE ARE BOOKS TO BE READ!!!!

And, unfortunately, at least one article on civil liability for misstatements in offer documents (yeah, you read that right) to edit.

With attendant threats of demerits if someone doesn't get it done in time. (Really, people? Demerits? Really?? Are we not past the elementary school stage yet?)

So the books by gorgeous Welshmen will have to wait.

And so will you, because my more interesting posts will not get written tonight.

An update, because I promised.

Well, I refused to take any guff from that take-home final.

I gave my final project what-for.

And I took my final paper out into the back field and beat it severely, like that scene with the printer in Office Space.

Yeah, this is what I did to my finals:



And now they're dead done. And I slept in today until 1:00 and I'm writing this in my pajamas and I'M NOT SORRY. In fact, this is the best I've felt since school started in August. So join me in a great sigh of contentment: *ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.*


And now, less than a week before Christmas, I finally have time to put up the tree. I'm looking forward to next December when I will actually be able to start the Christmas festivities at the beginning of the month, rather than three weeks in.

BOY, you WILL . . .

That's how Shallow Man's theory of discipline starts out. I've decided I'm going to see how it works in semi-real life.

All right, take-home final. This is it.

You don't like me and I certainly don't like you.

But you're going to get done.

Today.

That's all there is to it.

In other words,

BOY,

you WILL

be written and printed

TODAY.

NOW STOP YOUR PRISSY WHINING AND PREPARE TO HAVE THE TRASH KICKED OUT OF YOU.

Thank you.

That will be all.


I'll let you know how it turns out, folks. Stay tuned.

I believe you have my stapler.

So does anyone remember that small scene in the movie Office Space (which I've only seen edited on TV, but really, who hasn't wanted to take the recalcitrant printer or other bit of office equipment out to the back field and whack it with a baseball bat?) where you hear this squeaking noise going up and down repeatedly and then the camera pans over to the next cubicle where the girl answers the phone and it's her voice pitch changing as she says "Hello" and "Please hold" that was making the noise the whole time?

Yeah, me neither.*

But I'm sitting at my carrel here at the law school at 5:36 p.m. when most people are gone so the few people who are left feel safe talking a bit louder than they otherwise would, and the tone of their talking is having the same effect where it sounds like some sort of cricket or small baby bird has made its way into the law library and is chirping whenever someone says a word containing the letter "s" anywhere in it.

Which of course, leaves me torn between the desire to save that poor baby bird and the urge to find that bug and kill it (or at the very least make it leave the building).

Which I guess is the long way of saying that the reading for tomorrow's class has failed to catch my interest.


*Actually, I totally remember this part. I just couldn't find a clip online quickly and didn't feel like making a protracted search effort. If one of all y'alls finds it, though, please feel free to share it with the class.

And a leave-ish of absence

This is just to let all 12-20 of you know that I will be preparing for and taking finals for the next four weeks, so posting here may be slim. Not that this is a huge change from the norm, but at least I'll have a good excuse this time, as opposed to mostly just laziness.

Although, on the other hand, it's also entirely possible that I will post here even more in an effort to procrastinate said studying. We'll see.

Yup. The excitement never ends here at The Scritchy Nib!

She's not dead yet!

Yes, I'm still alive. But also still in the middle of finals. The major ones will be done on Monday, though, and then all I have left is a take-home. And then I will officially be halfway done with law school.

And I might even have a chance to blog.

Till then, keep on tranglin, Larry Pat.



Yes, that final apostrophe has been purposely omitted to match original source formatting. And yes, it is hurting my soul.

Do you believe in omens?

I'm beginning to wonder if maybe the universe (or at least the legal profession) is trying to tell me that I'm not supposed to be a lawyer.

Every bit of mail I have ever gotten from the Federalist society has been addressed "Mr." Now, in some cases I could understand an organization getting slightly confused about gender-neutral names. But has anyone here ever in their life known, met, or even heard vague urban legends about a man named Elizabeth?

Now, I've heard from other (more gender-neutrally-named) female friends who are also Mr. to the Federalists, so I wouldn't necessarily take that as a conclusive sign, but today I also got a letter from the American Bar Association. At least I think I did. It has my address and my middle initial and my last name on it, but they have my first name listed as Cristina. Which it isn't (see above point about my name, Elizabeth, not being a man's name).

If they can't even get my name right, why am I bothering with all this again?



Note: To be fair, I should point out that I'm not the only one whose name the ABA is confused about. Shallow Man's letter (which also had the correct middle initial, last name and address) was addressed to Richard. Which isn't his name, either. So maybe the ABA would just rather have our family choose a different field? You tell me. (Although the Federalists at least have gotten his gender right.)

Overstretched and at a loss

My candle's burning at both ends,
It will not last the night;
But, ah, my foes, and oh, my friends,
It gives a wondrous light!

I have definitely overbooked myself this semester. I feel like Bilbo -- butter scraped over too much bread. I really need to cut back on a lot of stuff but I have no idea how right now. How do you tell the people who are counting on you for help that you don't have enough to go around? And who do you cut out first? Because the truth is that right now the light is not all that wondrous -- the wick at both ends is starting to gutter and sputter and pretty soon it's going to just go out completely. (I've had this happen before. My body will, from time to time, just inform me that we've had enough, thank you very much, but since you're not taking breaks on your own it's time for some ENFORCED RESTING. You'd think I would learn eventually.)

It's gotten crazy enough that when my creative writing class (really probably the only thing keeping me from completely keeling over right now -- this is NOT an option for the what-do-I-drop list) assignment was to write a sonnet, the only thing I could come up with was a case brief from my Wills and Estates class. Unconventional and kind of fun, but still a bit too much of an indication that I need to spend more time doing not-law stuff.

Does anyone have a spare three or four hours a day they can lend me?



On the bright side, at least I get to go see SYTYCD in concert tomorrow with my sisters.

Resignation; or, A slight feeling of accomplishment

Well, I'm probably not going to actually make it onto ILMR. But dang it, I FINISHED THE TECH EDIT. EVERY SINGLE BIT OF IT.

So there.

Finals are OVER!!!; or, Dancing Robot Posse: collect them all!

Yes, my friends and colleagues, finals are over. I am officially a 2L in law school. And I'm not dead. Or even severely mentally damaged. (Minorly mentally damaged, yes, but what can you do?)

So in this spirit of jubilation and fluffiness and sweetness, I now present to you (for anyone who may be keeping track):

What I Want for Christmas.

GAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!

Sorry. Just had to get that off my chest. My first final is in about 11 hours and I'm a little stressed. Prayers and good thoughts would be very much appreciated!!!

Thanks!