The Pre-Thanksgiving Uuuuugh

It's still Wednesday, but I'm already stuffed to the brim. I think it is possible that I will explode in the night. This may be my last sad missive sent out to the world. I should probably make sure I say something really important and thought-provoking.

Ummmmm....

So, my brother and his family came over today. They'll be spending tomorrow with his wife's family, in an eminently reasonable yearly swap (the family that gets Thanksgiving one year gets Christmas the next, and vice versa). The fact that it's reasonable of course means nothing to the overly sensitive, but so be it. Better than the contortions I've seen others go through. I have recently heard both of the following oxymoronic rationales:

(1) My family is small, so they really depend on me being there. Your big family won't miss you. Thus, every holiday should be spent with my family.

(2) My family is huge, so it is just about impossible for everyone to get together. Your small family can get together any time. In fact, why don't they just have Thanksgiving on a different day? Thus, every holiday should be spent with my family.

I think I would divorce both of the above people.

Anywho, this year is not our Thanksgiving. I happened to say to my brother that I'd be cooking on Wednesday and it would be great if he wanted to come over. He seemed really excited about this. Then I realized that, um, he thought I meant I'd be cooking a big dinner for Wednesday. Ha ha ha. Foolish child. The cornbread will not souffle itself.

So I promised to order pizza, and then...then...I have no idea what happened, but next thing I knew there were various people in my kitchen and a big meal was being produced and the Thanksgiving treats were suddenly on the table and BY THE WAY there was no room for me to do actual cooking for the actual big-meal day that is NOT today and seriously, who will souffle the cornbread if not me? If you don't have a solution, well, you are part of the problem.

Meanwhile, it's hours later and though I am full with the fullness of she who ate half a pound of crab dip, I am yet oddly deflated. It is, after all, such a letdown. Those foods, those special foods, so tempting and meaningful and kind of capacious (what with the taking up of every spare inch of my refrigerator, and all the other inches I didn't have to spare to begin with)...their glorious luster is somehow diminished when tradition is broken.

Yes, it is true...pumpkin pie loses its mystique when consumed too soon. Its festivity has been dulled by its sheer prematurely devoured tawdriness. Why, pumpkin pie, why did it have to be this way? If you had just waited your turn until tomorrow, maybe we could have really had something together, but now? Now I know all your secrets. I am over you.

There Is No Healthcare Crisis in This Country

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License to Litigate

The recent release of bar results made me nostalgic for a simpler time. Ah, memories....

Why am I torturing you with old posts?


The End Is Nigh
Originally posted fall 2006

Repent while there is still time!

I awakened this morning and everything seemed normal. Then the dog turned to me and said, "Cheerio, old girl, and how about a biscuit for your chum." That was pretty extraordinary. That the dog talked, well, whatever, but that he was British? Who knew!

Then I got in my car and drove to work. I knew something was awry the minute the frogs started raining from the sky and the locusts began, you know, plaguing.

Pigs flew. Hell, elephants flew. And everyone knew nothing would ever be the same again.

What's that? You say you missed it? The Apocalypse isn't at hand? You don't see the Four Horsemen bearing down upon you?

Well, how's this for a sign that the End Times are at hand:

At 2:59 p.m. on this day...I discovered that I PASSED THE BAR!

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Bar Day: The Most Wonderful Day of the Year
Posted a couple of days after the previous post
(Edited for length)

Or more like one of the worst days ever.

I don't know about you, but I really thought that I wouldn't pass, for a variety of reasons. I've spent the last month and a half imagining how things would play out, how it would feel to look at the list and not see my name, how I'd have to explain it to the people I work with, how they'd react, how my friends would treat me like I'd just been diagnosed with a horrible illness.

I woke up Thursday with that nervous-shaky-nauseated-racing-heart sensation that was all too familiar from the bar exam. From there it was all about waiting. One person had a program that checked the main page automatically for new links, others just clicked refresh over and over, and still others just wanted to wait for someone else to tell them the news.

Basically, we were all a little nuts.

So there I sat. And I felt more and more terrified. And I posted the first of the only two posts I will ever write at work. And then, since it was far too early for grades, I read every story on CNN.com and stopped checking the site.

Then, of course, T e-mailed me with two words: "they're up." I can't begin to describe the way my stomach dropped. I thought I would faint. I went to the site, refreshed all the pages...and I couldn't frigging find the results!

I became convinced I'd failed because of the ominous nature of T's e-mail (turns out she sent it the second she saw it was up, without even checking the results), and finally the page came up. And I scrolled and scrolled and scrolled...and didn't see my name.

Felt numb. Checked one more time just to be sure...and there it was!

I called some people, got to be the first to tell them they passed :), and then I flung open my office door and went running out waving my hands in the air and hollering that I'd passed. Apparently my boss was on the phone with opposing counsel with his door open. Ahem.

We almost immediately left for a bar – us and every other newbie lawyer in town, terrifying the locals with our sudden besuited, BlackBerry-clutching descent into the bars. I drank some champagne, not a lot, and had Indian food for dinner and fell asleep watching ER. I am a very elderly, very boring person.

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You May Call Me "Her Worshipfulness"
Originally posted fall 2006

Today I am a woman.

Wait, sorry, getting confused. I didn't have a bat mitzvah today, although I guess in a lot of ways being sworn in is similar. Both offer crappy fruit punch and crowds of shrieking girls. But nobody offered to draw my caricature today, so I gotta say the bat mitzvah wins.

So, we were sworn in. We arrived a little late but still managed to run through the line to pick up our REAL LIVE law licenses and our REAL LIVE bar cards. I have a bar number. I can't believe I have a bar number. That was really the high point of the day. The woman who handed it to me had huge smile and said, "Congratulations!" so sincerely and enthusiastically that it seemed like she really meant it. It was a great feeling to have my license in my hands.

The ceremony itself was very nicely done. It felt very much like a graduation. We sat in chairs on the floor, family sat in the bleachers around us, and the valedictorian gave a speech. Yes, there is a valedictorian of the bar exam. Yes, the competition never ends. I'm pretty sure that when we retire someone will be the valedictorian of the practice of law.

We raised our hands and swore the oath. It includes a line about "demeaning" ourselves in the practice of law. Demean? DEMEAN? I do not think it means what they think it means. Nevertheless, I feel proud. I have demeaned myself on a daily basis ever since I started working! Fantastic.