Job Fair

Fucking bullshit. Career services are a worthless collection of individuals. I prefer the cold hard truth right up front to an (finally) honest, post job fair conversation about Plan B - after having 17 interviews and receiving NO callbacks. Not fucking one. Maybe this is a strike from the legal overlords, punishing me for my hubris walking into those interviews. I really could not have imagined that it would be almost September and I would have not ONE callback interview. I know my grades are not stellar, but a double-ivy league education, federal clerkship experience this summer, and bilingualism, and still, not enough. Not to mention, I'm a good interviewer. I'm not an overly energetic cheerleader, but I definitely have solid people skills, and can slightly adjust to my interviewer's communication style. An interviewer even told me that I was a great candidate and he was sure I'd get several callbacks, but maybe their firm was not what I was looking for. This flamboyant interviewer, from BIG CITY NY law firm, a law firm that has upped their standards in an attempt to become another Cravath, even though they have decidedly brown shoe rep, who told me that a federal judge was probably hitting on me when he said that as a woman he trusted my opinion because women are so observant ... fucking jackass. I should threaten him with suit for such effrontery.

Such disillusionment. But hey, there are worse things, and I need to keep that in mind..

im looking down into the water and i see wiggly myself

whew. wheeeeeew. where has the last year gone? how much has changed in the last year. looking back I see myself as a quivering little undergrad when I embarked upon this whole thing. My main concern was whether I would enjoy the substance of the classes - an even greater preoccupation than the cold-calling, the job market, the reading, and all of the typical law concerns. Throughout the year I was so involved in studying and socializing when possible (drinking wine and hosting supper parties and the occasional booze-fueled college-esque long nights out) and planning out my summer that I did not have time to reflect on whether I was selling my soul for a comfortable apartment and truly delicious meals with bottles and bottles of wine and trips to Europe a couple times each year. Is that what I'm living for - to enjoy the bourgeois comforts and splurges that seem to adorn my facebook page? Do I work and dedicate myself to study just in order to have wonderful stories to tell and make others envious and satisfy my lust for travel and exotic experiences at a young age - an age when my parents were working nights to get by and raise their children? Well no. My studies are not fueled solely by material desires and adventurous yearnings. Note: I have roughed it during my travels as well - and come home black soled (my feets) and 10 pounds thinner from food poisoning from third-world countries ("you look great!" says my mom upon my return). I am intellectually captured my my field of study in many ways - I worry that these interests are fleeting and still nothing in particular is really screaming my name, in part because I am pulled in several different directions. Global business and human rights and free speech and the U.S. CONSTITUTION and clean technology and trial advocacy. All and none are completely enthralling. Here is the time to decide and here I am wavering and succeeding and looking inward and outward to figure out what interests me. That shouldn't be hard. What type of person is characterized by absolutely nothing? I loathe the idea of being a person that is unopinionated and complacent about her life and the way she spends her time. Certainly not about the company she keeps. Love people more and work fully and throw yourself into the world and don't think so much when you're walking around - don't walk around pensive and looking at the ground and thinking about how your father's alcoholism has led to your need for attention which led you to act the way you did last night at that party which was really not even a party and maybe you should have just stayed home and tried to finish that Russian novel you've been reading the past three weeks because really it's pathetic that in the course of the entire summer you've only read one full book and this was the summer you were supposed to learn to speak French and play the mandolin and seek out any possible opportunity to do some public speaking and not carelessly waste brain cells on pointless alcohol binges... look forward and observe the world around you and be involved in it at all times and ready to talk to strangers.

And here I am.

finals.

Rollercoaster. borderline insane. some days I wake up and feel pumped and ready for a 15 hour study day. some days i want to shoot myself in the face or just hop on a plane i-don't-care-where. fueling on large coffees. skin hates me. i hate territorial jurisdiction. all its intricate rules of self-restraint, and federal/state law questions, and long-arm statutes, and balancing interest standards, and power tests. ok, so i like it, but it's an immense beast that i can't even hop on for one second without it bucking me off like a paper doll. need. to. tame. the. beast.


i think i'm losing it.

stranger things

grad school + caffeine + MEMOS + summer job search + seeing Mr. Lawstudent in every single class = shingles. I mean, COME ON. Shingles? Really? Who gets shingles? How many people under 60 do you know who have contracted adult stress-induced chicken pox? And I thought I had this law school thing down pat. Thought I had figured out the ideal formula, for myself at least, balancing studying, and law school events, and socializing, and occasional weekend excursions, and job searching, and exercise, and breathing - mindful breathing... ohmmmm... but then one day I woke up and felt like someone punched me in the ribs. Writing it off as product of an awkward sleeping position, or perhaps a little over-exertion on the treadmill this week, I ignored it until these little red spots started, a small patch of 7 or 8, popped up on my right rib cage. It could be worse, honestly. Going from thinking I had a tumor, which turned out to be a swollen lymph node, to discovering I had adult chicken pox was actually a relief. Kind of funny even. It gives me an excuse to force myself to take "me time" and go to cafes and indulge in chocolate-almond-current slices with a decaf americano, and write to all of my many readers. All one of you, present party included. Anyway, my body is basically rejecting this maniacal work-mode and sending me signals that I need to take a minute after classes to chill out and breath before I get back to work. At the very least, I need to do it at times like now, when there are no pending memos, finals, or anything of the sort.

It makes me wonder whether the high-stress life-style of a lawyer is going to work for me. It's such a love-hate relationship. I love waking up each day with a goal and struggling to understand cases... well perhaps not the struggle, but that "click" when you realize that you get it. It's an incredibly nerdy, but incredibly rewarding feeling, when you're sitting in the library, and reading an opinion written by Justice Marshall in 1811, and for an instant you think to yourself, "I totally understand what you're saying right now," or, " I totally relate to where you're coming from, my brethren." And I hear Marshall responding, "Yes, sistren, I knew you'd understand." The classes I've taken so far have all been really interesting. One of the biggest realizations I've had during my first year of law school is how much the law permeates every aspect of life. Every. Aspect. Of. Your. Life. So it really is such a tool - you can have a conversation with anyone in the world, so long as you're not completely socially inept, a feature that is not uncommon in the legal field. Still, back to the career considerations, if I'm in a field where those who thrive in an unrelenting high-stress work atmosphere are the same ones that succeed, I'm not sure whether I want to throw myself into that ring. I do love the competitive atmosphere, and that push it gives. But for how long?

This will quickly turn into a rambling, soul-searching mess, so I'll focus on now. Getting through year 1 and continuing to make goals and focus on which areas interest me the most, intellectually. Focus on being healthy and remember to take my Valtrex (yup, that's the herpes meds) to treat the Shings. My friend is in dental school just quit cigarettes and caffeine and has been suffering panic attacks because he will be seeing patients soon. So let's not forget, the law isn't the only stressful field, and the point is to learn to see this stress as eustress (positive stress! the stuff that gives life SALSA!) not distress (negative stress! panic attacks).

older

i hate getting older. technically, i haven't even reached my mid-twenties and already i have two glasses of wine and i'm hungover. like immediately. why are the things we love the things that are the worst for us? booze. cigarettes. and not to mention, bad for the skin. arrogant men.

2d semester

Part deux. Novelty has worn off. Realized that big-name law school might not suffice to get access to big-name law firms. Time to kick it up a notch and really live this stuff. I need to sleep quasi in rem, subtype 1, eat the Restatement of Contracts, and prey the Model Penal Code. Ok, slow it down. But seriously, coming back with a vengeance, and feeling as though this semester is the last one that really counts, so may as well- just for the shits and giggles of it all- go balls to the walls.

Dabbling in romance during law school is a bad idea. Nerves from potentially feeling the wrath of the Socratic Method are confused with nerves from potentially seeing Mr. Lawstudent, and the result is an expenditure of too much nervous energy.... a precious fuel that must be conserved for the gauntlet that law professors like to called "finals." Maybe the situation is different when you are in a serious relationship with someone, meaning the thrill is gone, and the two of you become more like co-counselors than a romantic item. Well, I'm not willing to become latched onto someone just yet. As a woman, it is especially important to make a name for yourself in this field, and not become the mere other-half to Mr. Lawstudent. So, sorry sir, but I don't have the energy or willingness right now.

j-o-b-z. looking at human rights positions 'round the world, judicial internships, and a couple of interesting research positions.... ya veremos. (we'll see.) It would be nice to do something meaningful this summer, use my legal edumacation to do some good in the world. For this reason, I've been focusing more on grass-roots-type organizations, where the work is more connected to the people, rather than some huge charitable corporation.

Hasta la proxima!

finals. cuckoo.

I can't wait to have a proper job so I can plaster inspirational little tid-bits such as this (above) all over the place. Leaving room for my taxidermy kitten calendar of course.

I'm trying to keep up with the reading in the final weeks of classes- and by keep up, I mean actually read, retain, digest- I would only be doing myself a disservice if I skim now or do a half-ass job, because I'll only have to re-read when I outline next week.

So far it's been all friendly, and supportive, and "super-competitive, frigid law students? Phsaw! We're having fun." until recently that is... the tide has changed and I can't even be in the law school anymore without feeling consumed by the atmosphere of anxiety. Seriously, I've succumbed to home study, unable to deal with the lonely carrels, the useless jabber about what I am or am not doing, the dinner by plastic fork and fluorescent library light. I'd rather get home, get in my comfies, and do the thing. Sometimes that nervous energy is motivating, but right now it only leads to unproductive worrying.

I look at my bed, and I think - I cannot wait to get into you. I love having a big, cozy bed to retire to.

On that note, back to Civil Procedure so that I can get into that big, cozy bed at a reasonable hour, and stay there for 5 - 6 more.

Toodles.