Should old acquaintance be forgot...

Just a brief post to say Happy New Year to my bloggy friends.

Things here are excellent. Clownfish and Bullshark get along swimmingly, if you'll pardon the pun.

Clownfish has really adjusted pretty well to having to answer to two parents, though I've been playing the "heavy" and I am still the parent-of-choice whenever there is an ouchie involved. Then again, I think that's true of Mommies everywhere. He and Bullshark went out for pancakes this morning and I understand a sticky, syrupy good time was had.

We've kind of isolated ourselves in this little family bubble -- doing really mundane family things. Needless to say, we're loving it. I've enjoyed a week of not thinking about law school, and have another week of that yet to come. Yippee!

We have more family to visit and catch up with, if we decide to leave the bubble. Regardless, there will continue to be a dearth of posting for which I apologize in advance.

See you in 2007.

God bless us, every one...

1) I took my criminal law exam. I feel like I did as well as I possibly could have -- I didn't have any moments like "shit, what is the property interest for theft by false pretenses?" I knew my stuff cold. Which means I probably missed some huge glaringly obvious issue and got a D+ . . . but I don't care. I am DONE!

2) Bullshark is on a plane. Right now. I pick him up at the airport in a couple of hours. With the Clownfish. And then I don't have to give him back. I get to keep him.

Expect many happy tears and light (if any) posting for the next week.

May all your holidays wishes come true.

100 (mk. 2)

Lengthy post alert... but worthwhile for the long time readers, so grab a glass of your favorite wine, sit back, and enjoy the insanity.

I began this blog the day my husband left Fort Bragg... eventual destination, Iraq. He'd been gone for four months already. The blog was an idea I had been playing with for a few weeks prior. I had been accepted into law school for the Fall of 06 and was exhilarated and terrified... I was a mommy to a two-year-old and had been struggling with how to keep my husband as a real presence to our boy, without making it a sad constant reminder of what we were both missing... I was balancing the new and significant stresses that come from being the wife-of-an-overseas-serviceman.

It’s hard to have a unique voice in the blogging world. Its all been done, and done better, by someone else. So I had a hook, if nothing else... like an ability to be interesting.

I also thought some of this perspective would insulate me from "1L" a little bit -- you know, not being intimidated by Gunners, whether or not they knew more than I did. Not letting profs get under my skin because they were used to pushing around wide-eyed 23-year-olds who weren't even sure they wanted to be lawyers, its just they knew they didn't want jobs yet. The grade-consciousness. The prestige-whoring. The backstabbing. The hiding-exam-model-answers. I'd read the horror stories. But I had this wonderful little being named Clownfish to go home to each night, and he would keep me grounded, because I needed to keep it together as much for him as for myself.

This was all great in theory. In practice, first semester of 1L kicked me in the teeth. I had bouts of real depression -- the kind that makes it hard to see the point of anything at all. I was intimidated by those who seemingly had so few responsibilities and could therefore devote all their attention to studying. I still am. I don't know how to compete, but I am not content to be in the fat part of the curve. Sometimes I feel like I can be successful at this. More often I feel like I am fooling myself. As I've still got two more rapings ... I mean exams ... to look forward to, and then grades. I'll revisit this reflection on "1L Part 1" later. Or maybe I'll drink a whole lot and forget what I meant to say here. Because this is not the point of this post.

I'd gotten to 100 posts once before, hence the mk. 2. I redacted about half the blog when I set up shop here. In that 100, I shared 100 personal, random, totally true facts about myself. I still have that list. But recognizing the second arrival at this dubious milestone is not really the point here either.

Another change is coming to the blog and to my life. When I have some time, I have to change the masthead and the FAQ. Because they're no longer true.

As of this writing, Bullshark has his feet firmly planted in CONUS (that's continental United States, baby!) I don't have all the details about how and why the military changed its mind and decided to send him home earlier than planned. All I know is that it happened so quickly, part of me is afraid it will bite us in the ass.

But I am very happy and very grateful. I'll be even more happy when he's in my arms... we don't know if he'll be home in time for Christmas, but I'm happy to settle for safe in CONUS for now.

So... law student, mommy, and wife of a physics teacher. Not necessarily in that order. And a hell of a lot happier than I have been in a long time.

I was "this" close to losing my mind...

So I went to yet another doctor. An ear, nose, and throat doc.

It was one of the scariest experiences of my life. There were all these crazy instruments I'd never seen in a doctor's office before. Some white stick that blew air up my nose. Some wacky flashlights that I am pretty sure could shine in my left ear and project light out the right... especially if I were a cartoon. Or a law student. And next to them, some very long, shiny, ominous-looking metallic sticks. I could not conceive of one of those in my ear, or nose, or throat.

Yeah, nose apparently. She approached me with a long, thin, metal rod and a skinny flashlight. At first, I think, ok, the rod holds the edge of my nose open so she can look with the flashlight. And at first, that's what she did.

Then, the long thin metal rod was repeatedly shoved up my nose ... I mean *way* up my nose ... to get a sample of the "very interesting pus" she saw up there.

That she had a distinctive European accent made the "very interesting pus" sound all the more ominous.

I was about a millimeter away from a lobotomy ... and all I wanted to do was sneeze.

I was thinking the sneeze might have ended my law school career, but the more I think about it, the lobotomy might have helped.

Should have sneezed.

Two down...

My contracts midterm was this morning. Only 25% of my grade, which is good because I was kicked in the teeth.

The test was totally fair and exactly what I should have expected -- not faulting the prof. But the focus... very heavily geared toward damages, which I feel I discuss with much less panache than I do modifications, accords, illusory promises, requirement and output contracts... none of which were tested. There were 8 questions, and I don't feel like I "nailed" a single one... and there are a few I know I missed a key point or three.

I guess the only way forward is to take a nap (yes I am still effing sick) and start studying Crim for Monday.

Create

I love how the blogger button that allows you to write a new post is "Create." Not "New" or "Write" or "Post" or "Bitch Randomly."

"Create."

Its a command. It reminds me why I started this blog in the first place.

Makes me wish I had something more interesting to say tonight.

Gratuitious 1L panic post

Ok, not really. I should be more panicked than I am. But I'm not. Not right now anyway. I feel ok about the amount of work I have put in so far. I am taking tonight off to watch a little TV and hit the sack early.

I feel marginally less sick.

Also, I blew my hair dry straight yesterday and everyone thinks I got a haircut. Who knew, with some basic personal maintenance, I can actually look kinda cute? I've been doing the mommy-do for a while now -- wash, comb out the knots, and wear. Maybe I'll put in the effort more often.

Eh, maybe after finals.

anyone for a some robotrippin?

My cough sounds very much like a sea lion on cocaine.

Or what I imagine a coked-up sea lion would sound like.

Great, I am having delusions of coked-up sea lions.

And I'm not even robo-fried.

(yes, it's a real thing. Urban Dictionary says so. )