Fudge sounds so good right now.
The crappy part of living in San Diego at all, let alone in summer months when clothes become few and far between on good looking people in the streets is that EVERYONE (aside from the tourists from Minnesota) is slender and built for being naked. I'll say it...even the old folks. When I drag my laziness out of bed to go frolic in Balboa Park (read: trying to jog) Grandpa Joe will go running by me, bones jingling, with naught but old people skin holding him together. He is old as dirt and can still haul ass down the trail. What a jerk. Even the new mom's with their jogging strollers and 3 day old infants in tow look awesome.
Are you kidding me?? When I'm old I will be sitting down in an arm chair shoving $5 bills in my grandkids pockets while swigging from a flask and complaining about my dumb sons-in-law. Not jogging. When I've just had a baby I will be too busy ordering my husband to change diapers and bring me bon bons to be subjecting myself to daylight and the possibility of further human interaction.
But lacking the perfect san diego uniform isn't the violation I've committed. It is going to school. Going to school isn't tooooo bad. Being a 2L for two whole weeks has almost been awesome actually. I know it is veritably impossible to judge how an entire year will go based off of one measly week filled with introduction classes (spending 45 minutes listening to your entire Evidence class brag to the professor about the trial prep boot camp they are taking this summer), being introduced to your professors (a semi nerdy very academic looking Chinese man opens his mouth to tell you about his trusts and estates class when suddenly a BOOMING voice comes barreling out on the vehicle of a very strong Texan accent…that will throw you off…) and feeling this ever familiar renewed sense of motivation that you will do all of the reading one week ahead of schedule and start outlining NOW and not start wearing sweatpants in public until half way through the trimester! However, so far it really has been awesome.
Of course I suppose it could be the fact that it is summer in San Diego and you can’t be awake for 10 minutes without catching what feels like this infectious happiness to be alive. Perhaps it’s the sunshine accompanied by cool breezes or the sight of small children frolicking in Balboa park with their golden retrievers as delighted parents look on, but even the thought of being cooped up in class for a few hours a day can’t seem to bring anyone down. It could also be, again, the fact that we are only one week in and there is hardly anything to worry about anyway as far as school work goes. After all, baseball season is well under way and the beach beckons incessantly so the most common sight on a San Diego summer afternoon is sunburnt die hard Padres fans wandering through bars on their way to Petco Park to root, root, root for the home team.
But as far as school goes what I can tell so far about the difference between 1L and 2L is this common trust that seems to have sprouted on its own between students and professors. They must hire certain professors to teach 1L classes who are purposely intimidating so as to frighten as many students away as possible so that only those with the toughest skin (and the greatest love of emotional and academic masochism) are left. As soon as you walk into your first 2L class, its as though that professor has been told to welcome you with open arms with a big warm hug. As though they are trying to say “I’m so sorry we had to put you through that, but you are a better person now, and I just adore you. Here, come sit down and let me treat you like a second year law student. Forget about marine bootcamp with Sergeant Paine…er…I mean your 1L year.” It is as though the 2L professor has stepped down from their pedestal on high to treat you more as a colleague than as a side dish for dinner. It is positively lovely.
So the trick now will be to maintain this fresh feeling of motivation and “I’m going to finish all of the week’s reading the Sunday before”-ness so that I can somewhat enjoy my summers and keep the stress level as low as possible. I mean, actually, for all I know when I get my grades in a week I could just decide to forge a different path and leave all this law school beeswax behind. However, as of right now I am a happy lady, finishing her homework and prepping the bones of my class outlines for when that day comes that I am ready to start in on them. I vow to try my best this year, to do my reading on time, study as much as possible, and not trade in cute summer dresses and shorts for sweatpants and pajama t-shirts until at least midterm season starts up…
Also, I keep walking by my little desk/vanity in my bedroom and running my hand over the top of it as if to say “don’t worry little desk/vanity…some day soon I will sand and paint you and introduce you to a very nice chair friend you I think you will live happily ever after with.” That project will call for serious baby steps. Step one: buy sanding material and paint. Step two: sort through all the crap in its drawers and figure out what to do with said crap. Step three: have a beer. I’ll let you know how it all goes…
