You probably think that I'm super popular and always have a million obligations on my social calendar: lunching with the ladies, romantic dinners with my many suitors, chic all-white (clothing, not people) parties with A list celebs. While these certainly comprise most of my lifestyle, you'd be surprised to know that I do spend time partaking in plebeian activities, as well. My favorite thing to do is sleep. My second favorite activity is eating. Number three is watching TV. And my fourth favorite pastime is reading. I feel like pastime should have two Ts. It looks too similar to an Italian dish, like pastrami.
As a tot, I read nonstop. Every Sunday, my grandpa and I went to Barnes & Noble. I got to choose three books & I was pretty much a straight series girl: Boxcar Children; Babysitters Club (every iteration, including the inferior Little Sister line); Encyclopedia Brown; Sweet Valley High; Chicken Soup for every kind of soul; Face on the Milk Carton (not sure if this counts as a series but they sure milked the kidnapping saga for all they could - get it? MILKED); the Alice series (did anyone else read this? I loved her but I always felt like I was the only one reading it). I read after school, all weekend, even before school some mornings (who was I?). In high school I still loved reading & made time for it. Then I went to college.
College was a marathon of required reading. Mainly it was uberintellectual hippie feminist ramblings about gender and race and oppression and I loved it all but man it killed my will to read. During the school year, I never read for fun. My brain was overloaded with required reading & writing papers, & any time I wasn't being collegiate-style intellectual, I was going about as far in the other direction as possible & watching some sort of Housewives (Desperate or Real, doesn't matter to me).
Then I came back to middle school.
Because I function at a 12 year old level right now, all my brain power goes to solving predicaments such as: How do I find the area of a trapezoid? What is a conjunction? How do I stop this kid from crying/screaming/refusing to do his work? Granted, I had to dig deep to remember the trapezoid formula, I embarrassingly confused conjunctions & interjections, & I will win some sort of national acclaim if I solve that last doozy. But it's a different reserve of my energy I am tapping into, which leaves a lot of empty space. So I can read again! Wheeee!
I'm hitting both the young adult and the real adult shelves, scooping up gems like The Hunger Games & To Kill a Mockingbird, as well as books that were on my Official List, like The Help & currently, Freedom. I cherish every DEAR day where, if the gods are on my side, or if I bribe the pups effectively with UNO, we all silently read for a solid 45 minutes. It's calm, it's productive, it's pure enjoyment - in short, it's nothing like the rest of the day. Kidding. Partially.
If you've read any great books, send them my way. I could always use some entertainment during the downtime on my private jet, which I use to transport myself to normal activities like safaris and weekending at Clooney's Italian villa. Or just the commercial airplanes that I use for things like going to DC to visit my friends or returning to the greatest locale of all, Kansas, both of which I will actually be doing THIS WEEKEND! Ahh, log another point for the East Coast: February break, up until now merely a myth to this midwesterner, is upon us.
PS. I just need to document this for posterity: BOTH of my 8th grade boys - by far the kids who like me least and think everything I do is excessively cheesy - brought me valentines today. It's like they shoot me down just to bring me back up again.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
law school word vom
Applying to law school is the most stressful thing I have experienced in about three years. Not since sophomore year of college, otherwise known as The Year of Too Many Responsibilities, Too Much Homework, & Too Much Stress-Sleeping, have I been so familiar with the ever-present stomach churning and cloud of anxiety weighing on me. Whenever I start thinking or speaking about it, a barrage of competing thoughts & fears come spewing out full speed. Word vomit, if you will.*
The actual applications weren't that hard once I got all the necessary documents together. The wait was a little worse because if there's one thing all humans hate, it's uncertainty. And traffic. But in this case, uncertainty. No, the hardest part has undoubtedly been the decision making. If you have been reading awhile, you may remember my terminal struggle with LAS. Making big decisions is tough stuff for us. It's the fear of permanent commitment, the need to analyze every consequence of every option, the eternal second-guessing of whether we're making the best choice, what other people will think of us, and will this make me truly happy, like in that deep Garden State this is so meaningful sort of way?
A few weeks ago, I got accepted to Stanford. Stanford has long been at the top of my list, but despite not believing in fate, I do believe in some sort of karmic energy thing and I didn't want to jinx myself by announcing to the world that I wanted to go there. But I did. I'm talking obsessively refreshing the threads where insane law school applicants track every application and decision to identify possible patterns of what kinds of people are accepted when. I began constantly checking my application status to see if they had already accepted me but just accidentally forgot to call me (what? why did I think this?). I even took to following the admission dean's blog to see if I could glean any useful tidbits about when I would hear back. The only thing I learned is that she is from Hawaii. Which was not helpful.
If deciding is the Marissa Cooper of the process (annoying, dramatic, ODing in Tijuana), then getting an acceptance call is the Seth Cohen (light, fun, a reason to wake up every day). And getting that call from the S was so0o0o0o exciting/fulfilling/relieving. Clearly I told my kids. Their reactions were, per usual, all over the board. Here's what happened:
8th grade: They know what Stanford is and understand the concept of law school so they're low key impressed with me. They start to think I'm smarter than they give me credit for. They also think it's crazy to go to three more years of school after getting a college degree. They would obviously pick Harvard, they say, but Stanford is cool too. They think I'm almost legit now and I am loving it.
6th grade: They have no idea what law school is and have never heard of Stanford but they sense my excitement and we do high fives all around (clarification: we do 1-2-5s, which I will explain to you one day). They worry that this means I'm leaving immediately. Can't get rid of me that easily, my tiny cubs. They write me a note saying "Ms Carter we are so proud of you congratz." I almost cry right then and there.
7th grade: They ask me tons of questions about California and what law school is like. They are visibly impressed. "You're so smart. You never got held back a grade." Well. I suppose that's true. "Man you've never even been suspended, have you?" Also true. I'm not sure if it was a direct cause and effect situation, but while we're still just trying to make it through 7th grade, these are the benchmarks of success we will strive to attain. They tell me I'm one of the coolest tutors. I feel validated.
At this stage in the game, I am feeling a lot of feelings. And if there's one thing I hate, besides uncertainty and traffic, it's feelings. Once upon a time, I had no feelings. Just ask my high school friends. I was empty inside. Life was simple. But that's another story. If there were no long-term consequences or factors I genuinely need to consider, I would definitely go to Stanford. However, it is really expensive, like I could buy a house with one year's fees expensive. Practically, I don't know if it makes the most sense, and furthermore, I'm really ready to be close to home again. My Midwestern spirit is being suppressed by this cold (both in temperature and temperament) New England lifestyle. This is the part of the process that is far less glamorous and thrilling so if you want to hear my endless rambles of anxiety and indecision, you just let me know. My mom will be okay with letting someone else field those fun-filled calls. If you want to offer me insight, please hand it over. But don't tell me where you would go if this were your decision because you know what, this is my life, so you can suck it.
End word vom.
*Speaking of word vom, & by that I mean speaking of Rachel McAdams, which of her 2004 hits was your favorite: Mean Girls, The Notebook, or Wedding Crashers? I have actually lost sleep (maybe 4 minutes max, I love my sleep) debating this with myself. They're all so good!!!!
The actual applications weren't that hard once I got all the necessary documents together. The wait was a little worse because if there's one thing all humans hate, it's uncertainty. And traffic. But in this case, uncertainty. No, the hardest part has undoubtedly been the decision making. If you have been reading awhile, you may remember my terminal struggle with LAS. Making big decisions is tough stuff for us. It's the fear of permanent commitment, the need to analyze every consequence of every option, the eternal second-guessing of whether we're making the best choice, what other people will think of us, and will this make me truly happy, like in that deep Garden State this is so meaningful sort of way?
A few weeks ago, I got accepted to Stanford. Stanford has long been at the top of my list, but despite not believing in fate, I do believe in some sort of karmic energy thing and I didn't want to jinx myself by announcing to the world that I wanted to go there. But I did. I'm talking obsessively refreshing the threads where insane law school applicants track every application and decision to identify possible patterns of what kinds of people are accepted when. I began constantly checking my application status to see if they had already accepted me but just accidentally forgot to call me (what? why did I think this?). I even took to following the admission dean's blog to see if I could glean any useful tidbits about when I would hear back. The only thing I learned is that she is from Hawaii. Which was not helpful.
If deciding is the Marissa Cooper of the process (annoying, dramatic, ODing in Tijuana), then getting an acceptance call is the Seth Cohen (light, fun, a reason to wake up every day). And getting that call from the S was so0o0o0o exciting/fulfilling/relieving. Clearly I told my kids. Their reactions were, per usual, all over the board. Here's what happened:
8th grade: They know what Stanford is and understand the concept of law school so they're low key impressed with me. They start to think I'm smarter than they give me credit for. They also think it's crazy to go to three more years of school after getting a college degree. They would obviously pick Harvard, they say, but Stanford is cool too. They think I'm almost legit now and I am loving it.
6th grade: They have no idea what law school is and have never heard of Stanford but they sense my excitement and we do high fives all around (clarification: we do 1-2-5s, which I will explain to you one day). They worry that this means I'm leaving immediately. Can't get rid of me that easily, my tiny cubs. They write me a note saying "Ms Carter we are so proud of you congratz." I almost cry right then and there.
7th grade: They ask me tons of questions about California and what law school is like. They are visibly impressed. "You're so smart. You never got held back a grade." Well. I suppose that's true. "Man you've never even been suspended, have you?" Also true. I'm not sure if it was a direct cause and effect situation, but while we're still just trying to make it through 7th grade, these are the benchmarks of success we will strive to attain. They tell me I'm one of the coolest tutors. I feel validated.
At this stage in the game, I am feeling a lot of feelings. And if there's one thing I hate, besides uncertainty and traffic, it's feelings. Once upon a time, I had no feelings. Just ask my high school friends. I was empty inside. Life was simple. But that's another story. If there were no long-term consequences or factors I genuinely need to consider, I would definitely go to Stanford. However, it is really expensive, like I could buy a house with one year's fees expensive. Practically, I don't know if it makes the most sense, and furthermore, I'm really ready to be close to home again. My Midwestern spirit is being suppressed by this cold (both in temperature and temperament) New England lifestyle. This is the part of the process that is far less glamorous and thrilling so if you want to hear my endless rambles of anxiety and indecision, you just let me know. My mom will be okay with letting someone else field those fun-filled calls. If you want to offer me insight, please hand it over. But don't tell me where you would go if this were your decision because you know what, this is my life, so you can suck it.
End word vom.
*Speaking of word vom, & by that I mean speaking of Rachel McAdams, which of her 2004 hits was your favorite: Mean Girls, The Notebook, or Wedding Crashers? I have actually lost sleep (maybe 4 minutes max, I love my sleep) debating this with myself. They're all so good!!!!
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