The world was a song

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You guys, this may be a bad sign.

I had a dream last night. That isn't the bad sign, although this is the first dream I've had in a long time that wasn't a nightmare and it may be a bad sign that since law school started I've only had nightmares.

But that's not THE bad sign. Last night I had a dream that I wasn't in law school. It was summertime and I was outside, standing in the sun, talking to some very nice adults who weren't carrying books. We talked about absolutely nothing to do with the law. That's right; nothing about the statute of frauds, no discussion of rape or homicide, no talk of open memos or writing out hypos, and absolutely nothing about personal or subject matter jurisdiction. In my dream I was wasting time and I didn't feel guilty. (See, that's one thing about law school. There's always more reading to be done, and if I pause to do anything that's not school-related I get panicky and flooded with guilt. Taking 15 minutes to blog even kills my psyche. I'm going to have to spend an extra half-hour with my flashcards tonight to make up for this indulgence.) See, e.g., Holy. Crap (holding that when exams are near the stress gets worse).

I had this dream, and it was a good dream, and I was happy in my dream, and I wasn't flooded with adrenaline thinking about all the work I had to do and wondering if I'd survive the next cold call. But here's the other thing: in this dream my mind was...blank. Sure, I woke up in a state of relaxation that I've not experienced since August. And sure, my body was relaxed and my tension headache was gone. And, sure, I was standing in sunlight, outside, during the DAY. Once I got over all of that, though, I decided that [maybe] this law school thing was [maybe] a good idea [maybe]. Most of the time, it's not fun. Most of the time, I'm filled with anxiety. Most of the time, I wish I had spent an extra hour studying the night before (see above). Some of the time, I wonder if I actually do want to be a lawyer. (I do.)

But most of the time, it's all right.

Image source.

The best thing I did...

...was to back away from perfectionism. I had great intentions. I started the semester with a clean apartment and exquisitely briefed cases. (Read the case once; read it again; brief it; read it again.) Last night I briefed four cases in less than an hour. ReadBriefReadBriefReadBriefReadBrief aaaaand save. Property book away; on to Civ Pro. CivPro done; on to study aid.

In the beginning, I thought maybe I'd try for top in my class. As exams near I realize I will be happy with an A, B, or C(the curve is a B). Hey, a C is good enough, right? Is it good enough for me? I don't know. And I'm too tired to decide right now. I have outlines to review and study aids to read.

But law school has definitely become the priority. My apartment is a wreck. My summer clothes are in piles on the floor and pairs of shoes have divorced and moved on to find different mates. I need to empty my trash but the trip to the dumpster takes too much time and energy. My plant died. I probably should have been watering it. My open memo materials are spread from the top of my printer, across my desk, onto my tv stand, and down on the floor. Whatever. I know where it all is when I need it.

Law school average is still pretty good. Here's hoping it'll all come out in the wash.



Image source.

Please see my original post here.

Holy. Crap.

Please see my original post here.

Suddenly, all of my classes are hard. How can I possibly memorize all the types of property interests? In personam jurisdiction is melding with subject matter and arising under and International Shoe and I'm not entirely sure what happened to Pennoyer v. Neff. Good lord; how am I going to remember the distinctions between first degree and second degree murder? Please, someone explain the common law statute of frauds to me and when the heck am I going to have time to rewrite my open memo? Exams start in less than a month and I'm out of food but I have no time to go grocery shopping. Do you know how tired I am?

If you're getting ready to start law school, don't fool yourself into thinking you know what it's going to be like. You have no idea. But even on my worst days I'm glad to be here.

What if I'd never signed up for law school?

Please see my original post here.

Today, I'm wishing for a bit of freedom. A stack of study aids is piled on my printer. Binders are in a sliding pile on the floor. Casebooks are open to various pages in various places around my apartment. My laptop is balanced on a Sharpie highlighter and I'm holding it in place with my wrist while I type. I've got a stack of old papers spread out on my tv stand: leftovers from when I was working on my legal writing assignment. Here I have a folder of old hypos and over there is my stack of flash cards.

I'm wishing for a day of freedom from law school.

I'd do some yoga and I'd end with a 20-minute Savasana. I'm a yoga beginner, but this is my hardest pose. Savasana wants me to quiet my mind and just let go. I'd do a 20-minute Savasana.



I'd read the Sunday New York Times Magazine. I'd work the crossword puzzle in the back. I think I'd go pick up some groceries. It would be nice to have time to go shopping. It would be nice to have some vegetables in my refrigerator.

I'd take a nap. I'd take a nap and not feel guilty. I'd wake up in my bed after an hourlong nap and stretch out in near-Savasana. I'd grab a book, and do some reading. Fiction. No flash cards.

I'd watch some Hulu. House, Eureka, NCIS, Heroes. I'd watch them all, back to back.

It'd be great.

Daydream over. Back to studying.

Sarah Kruzan: Sentenced to life in prison

Please see my original post here.



Sarah Kruzan was 11 when she met her pimp. Sarah was 11 years old--still a child--when she met G.G. The 31 year old stepped in as a substitute father. G.G. took Sarah and her friends--all still children--roller skating, and to the mall. When Sarah was 13 years old--still a child--G.G. raped her. And then G.G. sent this child onto the streets as his prostitute to work 12-hour shifts. She gave all of her money to her pimp for three years. Sarah was under 18, which means that she was raped nightly and repeatedly for three years. When she was 16, Sarah killed G.G.

The judge sentenced Sarah as an adult. She was 16--still a child--when she was sentenced to life in prison without parole. Plus four years. For good measure, I guess.

I can't find the details of the killing. But here's what I do know:

Sarah was a child when she was first raped. Sarah was a child when she was forced to sell her body. Sarah was a child when the justice system determined that she couldn't be rehabilitated. Sarah is now 29, and Sarah will die in prison.

Raping a child is not only illegal; it's despicable. Rape is confusing to adults. Rape is also confusing to children. When an individual is confused, she may not be able to objectively look at her choices. Children don't always know how to objectively look at their choices. Sarah was confused and unable to look at her choices.

As a society, we have said that adults are assigned the role of helping children make choices. G.G. was an adult. G.G. raped Sarah. The judge who sentenced Sarah was an adult. The judge decided Sarah could not be trusted to ever make appropriate choices. Sarah will never have the opportunity to choose how to live. Sarah will die in prison.

She was a child.

You're already bored

Please see my original post here.



Warning: if you're not in law school you are going to find me incredibly boring.

Are we friends on Facebook? When's the last time I posted about something that's not law-school related?

My current Facebook status:

Just realized I made a decent-sized error in citation in my open memo. Grr.
Yesterday at 5:30am · Comment · Like

If you're not in law school, you're wildly uninterested, you're rolling your eyes, and you probably don't know what an open memo is. If you're in law school you're considering adding a comment.

Hey, do you follow me on Twitter? My law school Tweeps and I trade jokes about adverse possession and wearing sweatpants to class. If you're in law school you might be realizing you've worn the same sweatpants every Friday for four weeks. If you're not, you're wondering why you should care and whether you should pretend that you do.

You might find my dreams interesting.

Two nights ago I dreamed that I was sitting for my Contracts exam and my computer wouldn't turn on. I woke up in a sweat. Was this a nightmare? This was a scary dream. Scary dreams are nightmares. This was a nightmare.

This is how I'm learning to answer essay questions. Issue: was this a nightmare? Rule: Nightmares are scary dreams. Analysis: This was a scary dream and scary dreams are nightmares. Conclusion: This was a nightmare. IRAC in a nutshell.

Last night I had a very detailed dream that I was sitting for my Torts exam and the professor surprised the class by giving us a Contracts essay question. In this dream, I watched myself write the answer. As in: I watched my hand write every word. The good news: I crushed that hypo. The bad news: I had another law school exam dream.

If you're in law school you're thinking that you understand IRAC more/less than I do. If you're not in law school you're wondering why you are still reading.

 

Did you find this post interesting? Only law students find this stuff interesting, and most law students would read the entire post. You read to the end of the post. Therefore, you're probably a law student. You likely found this interesting.

 

Really? Exams?

Please see my original post here.


So it's five weeks now until exams start. Omigosh it seems like I just walked into that first torts class with my shiny new backpack and a set of highlighters. Really? Five weeks until game day?

Things have changed in the wunelle corners. Case books have dispersed and we're walking around with our study aids in tow. In urgent whispers we 1Ls discuss which E&E will help most with contracts and where others are getting their practice hypos. "How many hours are YOU studying a night??" (Don't buy it; I don't think anybody answers this question honestly.) Where class discussion once centered on stretching hypotheticals to their full extents, now we're raising our hands and frowning with furrowed brows, "So, if we got a question like this on the exam..." The library is super-busy. (Urgently whispers, "Did you know they keep a hornbook* on reserve behind the circulation desk for EVERY first year class? Sometimes more than ONE!")

This is it, you guys.

 

*Hornbook: in law, a treatise that gives an overview of an area of law. A hornbook is pretty hefty.

Image taken from The Guardian.