- It's really cruel that the greatest learning resource and the greatest source of procrastination are found in the same place, namely your laptop.
- I work a lot better with headphones, rather than just music playing from speakers.
- I don't work at all if there's no noise.
- I don't regret the decisions I made through the course of the semester to work on the No on 8 campaign as much as I did.
- That being said, those decisions are probably going to affect my grades.
- When crunched for time, practice exams are way more important than memorizing more minutiae. Minutiae do you no good when you run out of time to write them down.
- The keycode to get into the bathroom at the Starbucks at Pico and Rimpeau is 1-2-3-4. Omar the barista told it to me.
- I'm eight years older than when I graduated from college, and I can't get away with hardly any sleep like I used to.
- This needing-to-sleep thing is VERY inconvenient.
- Sometimes, other people's past outlines just suck.
- Someone will look at my outline down the road and think it sucks.
- Buying the spring semester books during the fall semester finals period gives you first dibs on finding the used books in the best shape.
- This law school shit is hard!
- No matter how you feel about how you did on the exam, you have absolutely no way of knowing how your exam rates in the larger context of everyone else's exams.
- The Pens win if I listen to them online while I'm at the dining room table, but not if I listen to them online while I'm on the couch.
- Law school exams are the first time I've truly felt mentally hit by an A-bomb after a test.
Showing posts with label UCLA. Show all posts
Showing posts with label UCLA. Show all posts
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Walls, Dinners, and Leaves
You're in a new place, living a new life. You constantly have tons to do--the endless readings, needing to be ready for class discussions, papers to write. You have endless opportunities presented to you to do exactly what you've always wanted to do--actively work to make the world a better place. And you take them--how could you not?! Then suddenly, you find yourself in the middle of a huge fight, against people telling you to your face that they don't think you're equal. It's nothing personal, they hope you can still be friends, but they don't think you're deserving of the same rights as they are, that deep down they feel you are morally repugnant, and they are willing to spend tens of millions of dollars to prove it.
You find yourself in this fight, not where you are comfortable. Not in a place with your long time friends and family around you. True, with a strong number of budding new friendships, but not the time-tested, weathered ones that you can truly lean on. Not in a familiar place, with comforting changing leaves, soothing rainy days and invigorating crisp ones. But in a place with alien looking palms stretching starkly to the sky, and only bright, intense days. The rays of the sun call for constant energy, but little true relaxation.
And little by little you feel yourself losing pace. The water rises, centimeter by centimeter (which is odd, seeing as it never rains). The readings go from being read thoroughly before class, to read quickly before class, to now and then not being read before class, for those professors who don't cold call. Readings begin to take twice as long, because concentration comes hard, as well as staying awake. You hit rough spots in class and don't feel quite like the competent intelligent person you were convinced you were after the rousing convocation speeches. Exams begin to loom on the horizon, and with them the feeling that you should be doing more to prepare, even now. You're not doing enough. You don't remember the last time you got six hours of sleep. Your shoulders and neck turn into knots, and the headache from the stress, lack of sleep and poor blood flow becomes somewhat constant. The enthusiasm with which you tackled everything just a couple weeks ago is fading fast.
You tell yourself, it's just until the election. You're tired, and you're stretched a bit too thin, but the end is in sight. The hours of phone banks, debates, meetings, stress, and angst will be over on November 5th. All you need to do is find a way to push through these last two weeks, just stick it out, and you'll wake up November 5th with fewer obligations. But until then, every moment has to be productive. Every second has to be working towards the larger goals, whether it be school, new friendships, old friendships, or justice for someone somewhere.
And finally, fuck it. You just can't do it.
This is all a long and dramatic way of saying I really learned the value of taking a little time off this week. Friday rolled around, and I just couldn't do anything. No matter how much I wanted to insist on trying to write, read, work, or whatever, I was simply not going to be any good to anyone, anywhere. So after class ended, I caught the first bus home, slept for three hours in the middle of the day, then took the evening off with an amazing dinner out with some new friends, and some good old hockey. Today was back to work for most of the day, phone banking and school work, then a movie with some other new friends. (W...it was OK...given the subject matter, they didn't have to make a phenomenal movie, and it showed.)
Earlier this week I was talking to one of the faculty members at school, and he was asking how things were going. I said they were going OK, I was pretty tired and stressed from all the election work, and was looking forward to the election being over. He commented that yeah, it's a hard thing to learn how to balance yourself, and that it's not just now for the election, but it will always be this way. I didn't think too hard about it right at that time (too busy, ya know) but I realize now that he's right. It's not as though after this election there won't be anything else to work towards, no other causes that I'm passionate about, people who need help, justice that needs to be fought for. That's never going to happen in my lifetime. So, for this election, however it comes out, I'm certainly taking away the lesson that I'm only one person, and I'll need to work on my skills a bit when it comes to picking and choosing where and how thin to spread myself. It's a good lesson, that I'm grateful to have begun to learn without (hopefully) any consequences worse than stress headaches and sleep deprivation.
An added bonus is that in taking a bit of time off this weekend, I've gotten to begin to connect more with those budding new friendships. At school, it's been connecting and realizing that, while not everyone has quite the number of obligations I've committed myself too, we all have had our moments of feeling like the class dunce. We're all feeling overstressed, and we're all feeling like we're hitting a bit of a hump. At the election work, it's been connecting and realizing that these don't have to be transient acquaintances, but the beginnings of lasting bonds with amazing, hard working, passionate people.
And then, the feather in my rejuvenation cap, I got a package in the mail today, containing genuine, honest-to-goodness, Western PA leaves of various shades and colors, courtesy of MT. And along with a few minutes of misty eyes, they brought final added strength of remembering that even if we're on opposite sides of the country, the love and support I have with all those crazy people stretches infinitely.
You find yourself in this fight, not where you are comfortable. Not in a place with your long time friends and family around you. True, with a strong number of budding new friendships, but not the time-tested, weathered ones that you can truly lean on. Not in a familiar place, with comforting changing leaves, soothing rainy days and invigorating crisp ones. But in a place with alien looking palms stretching starkly to the sky, and only bright, intense days. The rays of the sun call for constant energy, but little true relaxation.
And little by little you feel yourself losing pace. The water rises, centimeter by centimeter (which is odd, seeing as it never rains). The readings go from being read thoroughly before class, to read quickly before class, to now and then not being read before class, for those professors who don't cold call. Readings begin to take twice as long, because concentration comes hard, as well as staying awake. You hit rough spots in class and don't feel quite like the competent intelligent person you were convinced you were after the rousing convocation speeches. Exams begin to loom on the horizon, and with them the feeling that you should be doing more to prepare, even now. You're not doing enough. You don't remember the last time you got six hours of sleep. Your shoulders and neck turn into knots, and the headache from the stress, lack of sleep and poor blood flow becomes somewhat constant. The enthusiasm with which you tackled everything just a couple weeks ago is fading fast.
You tell yourself, it's just until the election. You're tired, and you're stretched a bit too thin, but the end is in sight. The hours of phone banks, debates, meetings, stress, and angst will be over on November 5th. All you need to do is find a way to push through these last two weeks, just stick it out, and you'll wake up November 5th with fewer obligations. But until then, every moment has to be productive. Every second has to be working towards the larger goals, whether it be school, new friendships, old friendships, or justice for someone somewhere.
And finally, fuck it. You just can't do it.
This is all a long and dramatic way of saying I really learned the value of taking a little time off this week. Friday rolled around, and I just couldn't do anything. No matter how much I wanted to insist on trying to write, read, work, or whatever, I was simply not going to be any good to anyone, anywhere. So after class ended, I caught the first bus home, slept for three hours in the middle of the day, then took the evening off with an amazing dinner out with some new friends, and some good old hockey. Today was back to work for most of the day, phone banking and school work, then a movie with some other new friends. (W...it was OK...given the subject matter, they didn't have to make a phenomenal movie, and it showed.)
Earlier this week I was talking to one of the faculty members at school, and he was asking how things were going. I said they were going OK, I was pretty tired and stressed from all the election work, and was looking forward to the election being over. He commented that yeah, it's a hard thing to learn how to balance yourself, and that it's not just now for the election, but it will always be this way. I didn't think too hard about it right at that time (too busy, ya know) but I realize now that he's right. It's not as though after this election there won't be anything else to work towards, no other causes that I'm passionate about, people who need help, justice that needs to be fought for. That's never going to happen in my lifetime. So, for this election, however it comes out, I'm certainly taking away the lesson that I'm only one person, and I'll need to work on my skills a bit when it comes to picking and choosing where and how thin to spread myself. It's a good lesson, that I'm grateful to have begun to learn without (hopefully) any consequences worse than stress headaches and sleep deprivation.
An added bonus is that in taking a bit of time off this weekend, I've gotten to begin to connect more with those budding new friendships. At school, it's been connecting and realizing that, while not everyone has quite the number of obligations I've committed myself too, we all have had our moments of feeling like the class dunce. We're all feeling overstressed, and we're all feeling like we're hitting a bit of a hump. At the election work, it's been connecting and realizing that these don't have to be transient acquaintances, but the beginnings of lasting bonds with amazing, hard working, passionate people.
And then, the feather in my rejuvenation cap, I got a package in the mail today, containing genuine, honest-to-goodness, Western PA leaves of various shades and colors, courtesy of MT. And along with a few minutes of misty eyes, they brought final added strength of remembering that even if we're on opposite sides of the country, the love and support I have with all those crazy people stretches infinitely.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Oh Yeah...I'm in Law School!
Right...I have a blog. Hello!
So the one thing I haven't posted about (yes, just the one thing) is the whole reason I'm out here in the first place - law school! A bunch of people ask me how school is, and I give them all the same corny, drippy, silly answer: Absolutely fantastic. On so many levels.
The easiest is the return to academia. I've always said I was born to be a professional student, and I still think that's true. Listening, reading, absorbing, this is all right up my alley, and I get it in giant huge bunches here. The classes and the material are hugely challenging. The work is tough, and often being in the spotlight in class makes you squirm, but it's clear that the spotlight is there to challenge you and make you better.
On a deeper level, the atmosphere at UCLA is better than I ever imagined. The stereotypical image of law school is stuffy and tradition-oriented. The first year, the only goal is to weed out the weak; classes are handled with half an eye towards teaching, and half an eye towards getting the unfit to crack and fail miserably. Some schools cut as much as the bottom third of their students after the first year. Innovative thinking may be allowed as you progress (or maybe not) but in the first year, you're not presumed to have enough of a brain to think your own thoughts. These cultures also create a fierce competition among students, as everyone frantically struggles to step on everyone else so as to not be at the bottom. For those who aren't worried about being on the cut list, everyone else is an obstacle in the way of your six figure firm job. As far as public interest work goes, every school pays lip service to it, but the feel is more that we owe it to chip in a few hours of pro bono work now and then, and let the little people have a taste of our brilliance.
Much to my surprise, at UCLA I've found myself able to put the words "law school" and "nurturing" into the same sentence. Right from the get-go, the culture has been positive, supportive, and encouraging. The convocation speeches were a giant pep talk, all about how, as we go through stress and uncertainty in the next few years, remember that we rock, the school rocks, the faculty and administration rock, and when we get done we'll be able to do thinks that rock. (In contrast, MG's description of her convocation speeches was: "The next three years will be hell and a bunch of you will either die or fail.") Over and over, we hear the message that if we need support--whether personal or academic--the faculty, administration and other students are here to help us. They make no bones that the next three years will be difficult and won't always be fun, but they make it equally clear that their goal is not to break us, but to push us to excel. There is no thought of separating the wheat from the chaff.
This atmosphere of support spills over into the student body. Yes, there are those who are still hyper-competitive and gunning for that firm job. There is a mandatory curve on the first year, although the thought of mandatory cuts is downright absurd here. But there also seem to be just as many students who have no interest in such competition and mistrust. Help is offered freely, notes are shared, tips and tricks are passed around, class outlines obtained from a 2L or 3L are forwarded along for others' benefit. Although not everyone shares it, enough students feel that there's room for all of us to be successful in the end. One person's success doesn't come at another's expense. That feel is also passed along by older students and alumni. We've heard repeated often that the next three years are only as cutthroat as we make them.
As far as public interest and innovation go, this is where it is singularly personally fulfilling for me. UCLA has twice the percentage of graduates that go into public interest work as many other schools (8% vs. 4%), and this is a reflection of the academic and extracurricular activities they have here, and the effort that they put into developing a solid culture of progressive, social justice-oriented thinking. These opportunities are available from the start; even though we can't do anything academically yet (all 1Ls have a standard class schedule), they immediately welcome us in and encourage us to begin making connections. The number one detriment to law students maintaining their ambitions of social justice is the larger culture of law as a means to a lucrative career and personal gain. The programs here recognize this and provide us a place to meet others who are like minded right from the get-go. And, they encourage students to come up with their own ideas and actively contribute to both the administration and the activities of the school. I've counted at least four different legal clinics so far that only just started over the last few years, entirely at the initiative of students who saw a need and had the support of the school to try to fill it.
Aside from the obvious reasons that this is fulfilling, for me it's a dream come true. Going back to school, I expected the next three years to be a necessary evil to my eventual goal of working in a social justice capacity. I figured it would be three years of swimming almost entirely against the grain, with occasional support here or there, finding my own way among a culture pursuing purely corporate and political aspirations, with little opportunity to have immediate impact. Instead, everything has been exactly the opposite, even in terms of immediate work.
A month and a half ago, I was sitting in my cube feeling like actual work to do good was a million miles away. Then I got here and find that everything I've ever wanted to do is in my immediate grasp. "You want to change things? Here. You want to help people? Here. You see things you don't agree with? Here." Next week I'm going to my first clinic, helping rehabilitated (-ing) ex-convicts navigate legal hurdles in the course of getting re-established in society. I'm also signed up this semester to work a few days at a mobile legal clinic that sets up at a local food bank, helping people there address problems they've had such as minor offenses related to homelessness, and denial of rightful benefits. As if that wasn't enough, I'm also slated for a third clinic that helps people with HIV and AIDS find and keep affordable, livable housing.
And oh yeah, I go to class, too.
At any rate, this post has become ridiculous. I'm sure you have something to go do, and I certainly have reading to do. To quote something I saw recently (although I'll be damned if I can remember where...maybe LT?) I can't promise to try to post more often, but I promise to try to try!
So the one thing I haven't posted about (yes, just the one thing) is the whole reason I'm out here in the first place - law school! A bunch of people ask me how school is, and I give them all the same corny, drippy, silly answer: Absolutely fantastic. On so many levels.
The easiest is the return to academia. I've always said I was born to be a professional student, and I still think that's true. Listening, reading, absorbing, this is all right up my alley, and I get it in giant huge bunches here. The classes and the material are hugely challenging. The work is tough, and often being in the spotlight in class makes you squirm, but it's clear that the spotlight is there to challenge you and make you better.
On a deeper level, the atmosphere at UCLA is better than I ever imagined. The stereotypical image of law school is stuffy and tradition-oriented. The first year, the only goal is to weed out the weak; classes are handled with half an eye towards teaching, and half an eye towards getting the unfit to crack and fail miserably. Some schools cut as much as the bottom third of their students after the first year. Innovative thinking may be allowed as you progress (or maybe not) but in the first year, you're not presumed to have enough of a brain to think your own thoughts. These cultures also create a fierce competition among students, as everyone frantically struggles to step on everyone else so as to not be at the bottom. For those who aren't worried about being on the cut list, everyone else is an obstacle in the way of your six figure firm job. As far as public interest work goes, every school pays lip service to it, but the feel is more that we owe it to chip in a few hours of pro bono work now and then, and let the little people have a taste of our brilliance.
Much to my surprise, at UCLA I've found myself able to put the words "law school" and "nurturing" into the same sentence. Right from the get-go, the culture has been positive, supportive, and encouraging. The convocation speeches were a giant pep talk, all about how, as we go through stress and uncertainty in the next few years, remember that we rock, the school rocks, the faculty and administration rock, and when we get done we'll be able to do thinks that rock. (In contrast, MG's description of her convocation speeches was: "The next three years will be hell and a bunch of you will either die or fail.") Over and over, we hear the message that if we need support--whether personal or academic--the faculty, administration and other students are here to help us. They make no bones that the next three years will be difficult and won't always be fun, but they make it equally clear that their goal is not to break us, but to push us to excel. There is no thought of separating the wheat from the chaff.
This atmosphere of support spills over into the student body. Yes, there are those who are still hyper-competitive and gunning for that firm job. There is a mandatory curve on the first year, although the thought of mandatory cuts is downright absurd here. But there also seem to be just as many students who have no interest in such competition and mistrust. Help is offered freely, notes are shared, tips and tricks are passed around, class outlines obtained from a 2L or 3L are forwarded along for others' benefit. Although not everyone shares it, enough students feel that there's room for all of us to be successful in the end. One person's success doesn't come at another's expense. That feel is also passed along by older students and alumni. We've heard repeated often that the next three years are only as cutthroat as we make them.
As far as public interest and innovation go, this is where it is singularly personally fulfilling for me. UCLA has twice the percentage of graduates that go into public interest work as many other schools (8% vs. 4%), and this is a reflection of the academic and extracurricular activities they have here, and the effort that they put into developing a solid culture of progressive, social justice-oriented thinking. These opportunities are available from the start; even though we can't do anything academically yet (all 1Ls have a standard class schedule), they immediately welcome us in and encourage us to begin making connections. The number one detriment to law students maintaining their ambitions of social justice is the larger culture of law as a means to a lucrative career and personal gain. The programs here recognize this and provide us a place to meet others who are like minded right from the get-go. And, they encourage students to come up with their own ideas and actively contribute to both the administration and the activities of the school. I've counted at least four different legal clinics so far that only just started over the last few years, entirely at the initiative of students who saw a need and had the support of the school to try to fill it.
Aside from the obvious reasons that this is fulfilling, for me it's a dream come true. Going back to school, I expected the next three years to be a necessary evil to my eventual goal of working in a social justice capacity. I figured it would be three years of swimming almost entirely against the grain, with occasional support here or there, finding my own way among a culture pursuing purely corporate and political aspirations, with little opportunity to have immediate impact. Instead, everything has been exactly the opposite, even in terms of immediate work.
A month and a half ago, I was sitting in my cube feeling like actual work to do good was a million miles away. Then I got here and find that everything I've ever wanted to do is in my immediate grasp. "You want to change things? Here. You want to help people? Here. You see things you don't agree with? Here." Next week I'm going to my first clinic, helping rehabilitated (-ing) ex-convicts navigate legal hurdles in the course of getting re-established in society. I'm also signed up this semester to work a few days at a mobile legal clinic that sets up at a local food bank, helping people there address problems they've had such as minor offenses related to homelessness, and denial of rightful benefits. As if that wasn't enough, I'm also slated for a third clinic that helps people with HIV and AIDS find and keep affordable, livable housing.
And oh yeah, I go to class, too.
At any rate, this post has become ridiculous. I'm sure you have something to go do, and I certainly have reading to do. To quote something I saw recently (although I'll be damned if I can remember where...maybe LT?) I can't promise to try to post more often, but I promise to try to try!
Monday, July 14, 2008
Yahtzee
...or, "How a $130 Test Changed My Life".
So, I'm pretty sure that most people who read this blog know most of the story already, if not the entire thing, but I really feel the need to put up an actual post about the ridiculously insane past two weeks.
Every once in a while, life turns into a big game of Yahtzee. I'm not talking about breaking up with a significant other, or getting a new job. I'm talking about quietly sitting on a table, when suddenly someone scoops you up, shakes you around in a giant blue cup, and dumps you back out onto the table in an entirely different configuration than you were just in. (Hopefully metaphorically, but I suppose anything is possible.)
On the morning of Thursday, July 3rd, at around 10 a.m., I finalized the last piece of administrative stuff that I needed to do to arrange my move to Philly and attend Temple Law. The student loans and scholarships were lined up. Registration was complete. An apartment and roommate were found. The moving truck was reserved. Specific plans were entirely in place.
At around 2:00, I got the piece of news I referenced in my last post--my new LSAT score. In that post I said I wasn't sure if it would help with UCLA. Again, I have proven that I should not pursue work as a psychic.
After a few annoying meetings at work, at around 4:00 I sent an email to the Dean of Admissions at UCLA to let them know about my updated score. At about 5:30, I got an email back from him stating that they would review my file and be in touch. At about 7:30 that evening, I was on the phone with said Dean of Admissions, doing a phone interview. At about 8:45 that evening, I was back on the phone, receiving an offer of admission to UCLA, a scant 5 1/2 hours after getting my new LSAT score.
To be brutally honest, it was not an automatic decision for me. Here I had on one hand a path that was already all figured out, sorted out, arranged: a known entity which with I had been coming to terms for several months now. On the other hand, this entirely unknown path was suddenly plunked down in front of me: a much bigger move; much farther from my friends and family, and from the city that will always be home, regardless of whether I ever live here again; a much different culture and way of life; heck, even a much different climate.
Over the course of a few days, I began to swim through the mix of emotions that surrounded this decision. Not just the scary differences, but also the exciting ones. Being so much closer to LT. Going to a very highly ranked school. Going to a school with so much specialization and support for public interest work. And, I began to realize that the primary thing guiding my initial reaction was fear of the unknown. If this had happened even a few weeks earlier, before I had found an apartment in Philly, it would've been a no-brainer.
I began to think back to my original desire to go out there. The differences and unknowns were part of the attraction, the desire to experience something new. They weren't bad, they were good! And yes, I remembered the painful disappointment LT and I felt when we first learned that I had been waitlisted even at Loyola Marymount, and would most likely be staying east. LT was with me when I opened that envelope from Loyola. We didn't even make it into my apartment for a while, we just sat in the hallway hugging each other.
So I decided to accept UCLA's offer, and that is where I am headed. It is a decision with which I have become progressively more comfortable, and as plans and arrangements have begun to solidify, the fear surrounding it is slowly but surely fading, leaving the genuine excitement I would have felt if this had been the path I had been on all along.
Is that drippy saccharine sweet or what? Well hang on, now here is where the story just starts to get gaudy.
The one downside to UCLA was cost. Temple was going to be pretty cheap, both because it is a cheaper school, and because I received a partial scholarship. UCLA was going to be more. Not prohibitively more, but considerably more.
That is, until LAST Thursday, July 10th (Thursday is quickly becoming my favorite day of the week), when I once again found myself on the phone with the Dean of Admissions at UCLA. This time I was being offered a giant bucket of merit scholarship money, in ADDITION to a much more modest need-based financial aid award. As a result, UCLA will probably cost less than Temple when all is said and done.
Seriously? This is the kind of crap that people write stories about. I mean, not specifically, because a story--even a short one--about emails and phone calls for law school admissions doesn't make for terribly gripping leisure reading. But you know what I mean. It is unreal.
So there you have it. I don't have everything exactly all lined up yet, but through some series of events my act is going to California to attend UCLA School of Law. Way back when I first started piecing together my plan of law school action, this was the ideal scenario I had envisioned. As events unfolded I got used to life with a different reality, so you'll have to forgive me if I'm still a little stunned that all the sudden, out of the blue, it actually happened.
And to top it all off, last Friday the Dean of Admissions at University of Virginia, ranked 10th in the country and which had also placed me on the waitlist, called and offered me a spot. I do have to wonder how many people who are offered a spot off the UVa waitlist actually turn them down.
So, I'm pretty sure that most people who read this blog know most of the story already, if not the entire thing, but I really feel the need to put up an actual post about the ridiculously insane past two weeks.
Every once in a while, life turns into a big game of Yahtzee. I'm not talking about breaking up with a significant other, or getting a new job. I'm talking about quietly sitting on a table, when suddenly someone scoops you up, shakes you around in a giant blue cup, and dumps you back out onto the table in an entirely different configuration than you were just in. (Hopefully metaphorically, but I suppose anything is possible.)
On the morning of Thursday, July 3rd, at around 10 a.m., I finalized the last piece of administrative stuff that I needed to do to arrange my move to Philly and attend Temple Law. The student loans and scholarships were lined up. Registration was complete. An apartment and roommate were found. The moving truck was reserved. Specific plans were entirely in place.
At around 2:00, I got the piece of news I referenced in my last post--my new LSAT score. In that post I said I wasn't sure if it would help with UCLA. Again, I have proven that I should not pursue work as a psychic.
After a few annoying meetings at work, at around 4:00 I sent an email to the Dean of Admissions at UCLA to let them know about my updated score. At about 5:30, I got an email back from him stating that they would review my file and be in touch. At about 7:30 that evening, I was on the phone with said Dean of Admissions, doing a phone interview. At about 8:45 that evening, I was back on the phone, receiving an offer of admission to UCLA, a scant 5 1/2 hours after getting my new LSAT score.
To be brutally honest, it was not an automatic decision for me. Here I had on one hand a path that was already all figured out, sorted out, arranged: a known entity which with I had been coming to terms for several months now. On the other hand, this entirely unknown path was suddenly plunked down in front of me: a much bigger move; much farther from my friends and family, and from the city that will always be home, regardless of whether I ever live here again; a much different culture and way of life; heck, even a much different climate.
Over the course of a few days, I began to swim through the mix of emotions that surrounded this decision. Not just the scary differences, but also the exciting ones. Being so much closer to LT. Going to a very highly ranked school. Going to a school with so much specialization and support for public interest work. And, I began to realize that the primary thing guiding my initial reaction was fear of the unknown. If this had happened even a few weeks earlier, before I had found an apartment in Philly, it would've been a no-brainer.
I began to think back to my original desire to go out there. The differences and unknowns were part of the attraction, the desire to experience something new. They weren't bad, they were good! And yes, I remembered the painful disappointment LT and I felt when we first learned that I had been waitlisted even at Loyola Marymount, and would most likely be staying east. LT was with me when I opened that envelope from Loyola. We didn't even make it into my apartment for a while, we just sat in the hallway hugging each other.
So I decided to accept UCLA's offer, and that is where I am headed. It is a decision with which I have become progressively more comfortable, and as plans and arrangements have begun to solidify, the fear surrounding it is slowly but surely fading, leaving the genuine excitement I would have felt if this had been the path I had been on all along.
Is that drippy saccharine sweet or what? Well hang on, now here is where the story just starts to get gaudy.
The one downside to UCLA was cost. Temple was going to be pretty cheap, both because it is a cheaper school, and because I received a partial scholarship. UCLA was going to be more. Not prohibitively more, but considerably more.
That is, until LAST Thursday, July 10th (Thursday is quickly becoming my favorite day of the week), when I once again found myself on the phone with the Dean of Admissions at UCLA. This time I was being offered a giant bucket of merit scholarship money, in ADDITION to a much more modest need-based financial aid award. As a result, UCLA will probably cost less than Temple when all is said and done.
Seriously? This is the kind of crap that people write stories about. I mean, not specifically, because a story--even a short one--about emails and phone calls for law school admissions doesn't make for terribly gripping leisure reading. But you know what I mean. It is unreal.
So there you have it. I don't have everything exactly all lined up yet, but through some series of events my act is going to California to attend UCLA School of Law. Way back when I first started piecing together my plan of law school action, this was the ideal scenario I had envisioned. As events unfolded I got used to life with a different reality, so you'll have to forgive me if I'm still a little stunned that all the sudden, out of the blue, it actually happened.
And to top it all off, last Friday the Dean of Admissions at University of Virginia, ranked 10th in the country and which had also placed me on the waitlist, called and offered me a spot. I do have to wonder how many people who are offered a spot off the UVa waitlist actually turn them down.
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