you don't know me, muthafucka

You have to say that header like Ken Jeong. Sadly, that is a joke only my husband might get. Which is probably why I married him.

On 3 different occasions today, I was told, in some form or fashion, that I was being thought of as a gunner. Not the book-hiding, page-cutting kind, but basically still the nuisance kind. They were joking. They were nice boys. They had no malice behind it. But I still found it odd that in one day, 3 different men would josh with me about my work ethic. Each time, I took it no further than their statement and just changed the topic.

Someone who was with me when it happened asked me if it bothered me. I said yes and no. It doesn't bother me because I've heard worse about myself and came through very unscathed. It doesn't bother me because I can't do anything about it, so I let it go. What does bother me is that I feel it's a tiny logical leap from "she's always prepared" to "she's going to graduate when she's 40 so her life cannot possibly be like a 22-year-old."

I consider myself very lucky. I had a long time to prepare for this. I've had this in my conscious mind for years and it got to really gestate and take form with no competition for brain space. I asked my friend, who came straight from college to law school, if she had that luxury and she said no.

I am lucky because my husband has some practical experience in handling a partner in an intense academic situation.

I have always known I cannot bar-hop and drink till 2 in the morning, stumble home and try to brief cases. I knew I had no intention of giving up my sleep. I have a child who needs me and whom I need and spending a Saturday with him is the thing I look forward to the most. It's how I get through the week. I know I have to make up for that day somehow.

I also know I've done the scene. I have my legendary drunks, fucks and parties under my belt. And I also know that I was over it when I was over it and I knew, even then, I wasn't going back to that. I killed it and it was over. And it's not any different now than it was then. The drinks are the same, the dudes still lie and the parties should still be over long before the last lime leaves. Only condoms are more expensive.

I am not doing anything more than I am supposed to. I have no secret answers in my pocket. I read until I understand. I ask or email a Prof or a TA or a 2 or 3L if the work is getting the better of me. I'm assigned the same work as everyone else. I'm just operating with different motivation. I want this. I want my kids to be proud of me. I want them to see that they can change their minds, choose to be different, to see they aren't trapped by life. It's hard when it's hard, but sometimes you get opportunities. Mine is called John.

By the way, while writing this, 2 people came to ask me for help on an assignment. It was the same way at UWI. The same people who accused me of rubbish and talked behind my back used to come to me for help. I never said no or gave anyone halfway help, even though sometimes I wanted to. I thought I didn't know them in the same way I believed they didn't know me and it cost me nothing to say some words. I didn't get any less smart and explaining something always made me understand it better.

I'm not saying these 2 people fall into that category, but the irony is still inescapable to me.

blog blues

It's not that I don't have things to post about. I do. Many, many things. But I don't feel comfortable putting them down here. I barely even talk about them. Shit that really gets on my nerves, I call Anu and Skype-rant at her for 20 minutes and come away feeling better. It's out in the world but no where it can come back to bite me in the professional ass.

God, but it's hard. I am easily pissed off and I cannot take my pissiness to FB or my blog. I've given up on Twitter. I know it seems perfect: 140 words to just state my irritation? How perfect can you get? But, I got some personal character and moral fitness shit to think about and the censoring has begun.

Not that I haven't censored myself in the past. I don't put my sex life on here. Not because it wouldn't make for interesting reading (trust me!) but I do have someone else to think about in that regard and I have to afford him some privacy as well. As Pie is getting older, I am more careful what I say about him, because he will (hopefully) read this someday and I don't need to have to foot the therapy bills for causing his dysfunction. I don't even mention Chris more than in passing. He's way to old to want to me to do that and I respect his privacy as well.

But I liked having the outlet to say that people pissed me off because of so and so. But I have made this blog public and the school is aware of its existence. That puts the responsibility on me. I accept that. I do miss Journalspace, where I could have made posts private or friends only, so at least I can put my grief out there.

For now, Skype-ranting will have to do.

cold-calling

So nearly all of the law school blogs I've been reading have a post about cold-calling. So why not me?

I'm very okay with being called on. I go to class prepared as hell and want to be called on. I have no issue with speaking in public and knowing I'm prepared as hell gives me even more confidence.

But, I'm 36 years old and faced my public speaking demons way back in high school and emerged victorious. My high school was an all girls Presbyterian high school in Trinidad, one of the best. While it had long since given up Home Economics and how to lay a table, it held on to 2 important things a young lady should know how to do: properly lift a chair and speak in public.

The former was taught on the very first day to your class by an older student and never discussed again. There was no need, because no one ever held a chair any other way ever again. Ever. Again.

The latter was a bit trickier. You really had to want to speak in front of people to get much out of it. But I think everyone had to speak out in class and did their best to overcome the fear. For the braver and talkier, there were 2 avenues open to you: debate competitions and taking assembly.

I was all about taking assembly. I lived for it. From 2nd form (about 13-14) and up, each class had to take assembly at least once for the term. There were 4 assembly days in every 6 and it a was supposed to be a different pair of girls at the podium each time. The entire class chose the topic and worked on it together (in theory) and the 2 girls taking the stage would do the final speech and present it.

My first one was so scary. I was still 12 and never stood in front of a huge crowd like that. 700+ girls, all of the teaching staff sitting on the stage to my right and the principal sitting next to the podium on my left. I don't remember what I spoke about, just that I loved it.

By the time I left school, I was taking the stage 2 or 3 times for my class, which I am sure my classmates appreciated because they didn't have to stand next to the P for 15 minutes while she checked out your shoes, nails and uniform belt. That was really the scary part: is my uniform exactly as it should be?

Those years were such a good foundation for me that even though years would pass before I ever had to speak in public again, I was always ready for it. I always write what I want to say and that helps no one.

I have no issue reading from the notes I made for myself when I get called on in class. I am not a memorizer so I write that shit down for a reason. I think a lot of people feel they need to sound off-the-cuff and not rehearsed. I am more eloquent with the written word and have no issue reading what I wrote. They are still my words.

I think I have some of the best 1L Profs. If you tell them before class you aren't prepared, they won't call on you. They will make a note of it but you get 2 free passes before it begins to affect your standing. One of them said just a note with a name will suffice, a reason isn't needed.

Another problem is many of the young'uns haven't had any kind of public speaking experience in undergrad and getting called on for the first time can feel like death. The thought of getting called on makes them start to shake. And the Profs don't just ask one question. If they start with you on one case, they keep at you, or keep coming back to you even after volunteers are called on.

It's pretty clear who likes to talk. Most people have something to say, so Profs take volunteers a lot. It's still early in the semester, so I don't know if Profs are going to recognize the talkers and call on them a lot when they volunteer and cold-call the ones who don't. They don't know most names-to-faces as yet, so sometimes a person who has volunteer several answers or points gets called on in the same class. I kinda wish the Prof would give that person a break and call on someone else. Not because she's not brilliant, but just to hear someone else's point of view. I'm sure no one agrees with me on that point. If that person is being called on, it lessens the chances of someone else being called on!

I know at least 2 of my Profs knows my name and my face. I am making sure that one of them is going to know my face real good. I have to find a way to get the 3rd to know me but I'm not really having a problem in that class, so I might have to make one up.

stroking myself

Since this is my blog, I am going to indulge in some serious onanistic behavior.

I am super fucking smart and am loving being in law school. I feel exactly the same way I felt as an undergrad. Fucking brilliant.

Not that I am not surrounded by some stunning brilliance as well. There's a guy in my classes who I am dying to ask to be in a study group with me, but I don't like the guy he hangs out with and I'm afraid if I ask him he might want to ask his friend and I can already see we will get away. His overinflated sense of superiority cannot co-exist with mine. It's that simple. I'm the king.

So I'm in K and the Prof is asking his questions and I'm answering a few and he just moves on after I answer. So... dude, am I doing it wrong? Give me some feedback here! But, then I begin to notice that it's the people who aren't hitting the nail on the head that he's on, and the case we're discussing is one of my favorites, I realize that he's not hanging around to stroke the people who are hitting the nail on the head. And who's an accurate nail-on-the-head hitter. MOI! Boo-yah!

It truly helps that I love that class. What is it about contracts that gets my blood pumping? I have no idea. I loved dealing with them at The New Press, I loved the class at LP and I'm loving this. I'm a little concerned that I might wind up spending a disproportionate amount of time on this class, but, then again, it's 3 days a week and is 4 credits. It needs the extra time.

Civ Pro is cool. I just found out that I don't need to memorize the entire rule book, that we will get one on the day of the exam. Whew. But I am trying to climb all over Rule 8, 11 and Rule 12(b)(6).

Torts, I just love. I thought it would be my toughest class b.c of all the elements required to bring a case: you have to satisfy every element and who can remember them all? But, I'm liking this Prof's teaching style and I've exercised some brilliance in his class as well.

So here's where I gripe. And if you don't like it, go read someone else's blog. I dislike people who answer the question they want and not the question they hear. Why do people do that? It was pounded into my brain since Common Entrance to answer the question in front of me. That kind of shit just keeps everyone back and I start to lose interest.

I'm torn b/w helping people, getting into a study group and other social mores. I don't always feel very social. This morning I got off the train actually thinking that I hate people. I'm not always thrilled to be sitting by myself in the cafeteria, but I'm not 12, so I cope. I manage to get a lot of work done and I do enjoy my own company. Always have.

library day

I spent my first Sunday at the NYLS library. I don't think I can be any more prepared for tomorrow as I am right now. Will law school be over tomorrow?

I took Pie to breakfast at a neighborhood diner. It was our special little birthday breakfast because I won't be seeing much of him on his actual birthday, this coming Thursday. I'll be home for cake and see him open his present from me and John, but that's about it.

He ate the middle of one chocolate chip pancake and all the bacon. He also made me get him a Coolata from Dunkin Donuts, which John says tastes like cough syrup, but Le Pie loves. I forewent a taste.

I've been craving banana pancakes for weeks and I finally got some. They were delicious.

Then I dropped Der back home and headed off to school. It was so quiet today. From tomorrow, classes start for the entire school, so the place will be jumping, in a pleasant way until finals, when they might have to scrape people off the walls. The caffeine consumption alone in that place is scary. People drink huge coffees with a side of Mocha shot or Red Bull. I'm not exaggerating. This was on the 2nd day of Orientation! I've never had a Red Bull in my life and I do not intend to start now. My sleep is fucked as it is.

I managed to get through my entire week of K classes today. I'm up to 2 classes for Civ Pro and Torts, so I decided to head home. It was a very productive day. I'm hoping to be able to take Saturdays off and not have to sacrifice my sleep too much. I don't plan to go to bed much later than 11, since I have to be up at 6. We'll see how that goes.

ugh!

I hardly ever write about celebrities and mostly keep my opinions about those I admire b/w me and my husband. However, I have to put down somewhere how disgusted I am by S*pencer P*ratt (I'm hoping to avoid him coming here when he Google's himself while he has his morning whatever).

He describes himself as a "fame whore" but there's got to be a worse word for him. There are ways to use your celebrity (such as his is) to be famous without resorting to the steps he's taking. Just ask Paris Hilton. He says he is Christian, but he's shopping his sex-tape around? Is it any wonder his wife (no great brain there either, but clearly realized his shit stank worse than most) left him? Living with him must have been exhausting.

This kid is the worst representation of celeb-reality there could be. Not than any of the others aren't trying to catch up. The only reality tv show I watch is "Dancing with the Stars" and even though the "Stars" are somewhat fallen, at least they are working their asses off at something physical. And there is no on-screen drama b/w the players. It's about the dancing and the love. Mostly. I refuse to mention her name here, but we all know who I mean when I say, "poor Tony Dovolani".

But back to this brat. Shopping around a sex tape he made with his wife? How low can you get? Doesn't he have parents? Or a conscience? I once saw an interview with him (I forget on what channel but I think Wendy Williams was on the panel) and his wife over the Al Roker drama. His wife honestly said she had no control over him when Williams pointed out that she had some responsibility for his actions. He agreed. He listened to no one.

He is truly sickening and the media, will claiming to be equally sick of him, still write about him and show clips of his antics. It's not often I wish for a media blackout on someone, but I wish he would just disappear.

that recap i mentioned

So, as I was saying before I got all side-tracked, Wednesday and Thursday of this week were pretty good.

I had my first official class on Thursday: my small section Civ Pro met. It's so great when you can walk into a class knowing you know the material and when you raise your hand, something intelligent comes out. I had a great experience and we have a terrific prof. I heard some people in a small section Torts class had a brutal experience with their prof. Yikes. I am kinda expecting that with my K prof, so I am doing my best to be super-duper prepared for his classes. Plus, it helps that I love reading the K cases and doing the work. Ask me again at the end of next week if I still feel the same way.

After Civ Pro, we had the convocation ceremony in the auditorium. Basically, it's a ceremony that officially welcomes you to law school and no one actually tells you that you can't ask for your tuition back after that! I guess I'd keep that a secret as well.

I was exhausted during that thing and struggled not just to stay awake, but not fall asleep. That I found more brutal than my Civ Pro class. There were short speeches by the Dean and the head of the Student Bar Association. However, the next speaker went on and on about why we came to law school and NYLS in particular. Um... I know why I came. I certainly know why I picked the school. Was that the best you could have done with your time? It wasn't unhelpful. by any means, it just seemed out of place for a convocation ceremony.

The President of the Board of Trustees was a NYLS alum and been in the biz for 51 years. They should have let him speak earlier, because he I wanted to hear. Honestly, I cannot remember much about his speech right now, but I tried to pay attention because, hey, 51 years as a lawyer is some serious staying power.

Then I stood in a rather chaotic line (I use the word loosely) for tiny cupcakes and fruit, and only because I was starving. I figured I would grab a bite to sustain me and then head home. I was so tired I could hardly stand.

I had almost reached the top step, when I think I might have dozed off. Seriously. I closed my eyes and they jerked open when my slipper hit the edge of the step and I went crashing down. I heard someone ask if I was all right and I think I said yes but looked up for the help. Not a body moved. I was stunned. If I saw someone fall, I'd at least stand up and make sure they were moving on their own steam and not just immediately go back to my chatting because she mumbled something. I was even more stunned because I actually needed the help. I hit my knee pretty damn hard on the step and I had to drop everything in order to hold on to the rail to stand up.

I began to make my way to locker sub-zero when I felt some breeze around my left knee. I looked down and saw a tear in my nice new black skinny jeans! Grrr. I rounded the corner by the student organization offices' when both the pain hit and the realization there was something wet running down my shin.

I walked into the Stonewall office and Rachel, who amazingly went to nursing school, managed to stop the bleeding and dress the cut without making the tear in my pants any bigger. It was truly a feat. I heard someone ask how do people in other law schools make out because Rachel goes to NYLS. I heartily concur.

The adrenaline from the whole experience managed to get me to the curb of 185 Broadway and into a cab. And that's when I realized exactly how sleepy I really was. I made it home in mostly one piece, redressed my knee and went to sleep. When I woke up, my leg from the knee down was in agony. Today is a bit better, but I decided to stay off of it for a while.

Derek has not had an easy time with Mummy doing this law school business, as I've been home late every night, only able to put him to bed. I'm so tired when I get in, that he reads me a story from his Iron Man book. I can't be picky. Tomorrow, we take him to Victoria Gardens, and if I don't go he will disown me and buy a new Mummy at the Mummy Store. Plus, I want to get to the library on Sunday for a few hours to go over my K and Civ Pro notes for Monday's class. Despite the trials (no pun intended!), I am liking my new life.