Blog Fail, Bar Pass

Sorry I've been MIA lately....

It's just that I've had a stressful week, mostly because I've been waiting for my bar exam results....



AND I PASSED.



No more words.

7 Days

The time has come.  In 7 days, I'll be in Day 1 of the 3-day long Bar exam.  And so now, it's time that I surrender my "life" (if you can even call it that right now) to Bar/Bri so I can crush this thing.

I promise I'll get back on the L.A. List as soon as I'm done!  I plan on doing nothing but fun things that will provide you with plenty of stories and photos to fill the gaps in your day.  It will be glorious.

Till then, my friends, take comfort in the fact that your life is, in all likelihood, much more awesome than mine.  I'll miss you more than you'll miss me (trust me on that one).  Ciao!



A Graduation Picnic

{Tilden Park}

{our picnic area}

{the decor}

{flowers by Sharz!}

{wedding bubbles turned graduation bubbles!}

{old friends and new friends}

{graduate glamour shots by my mom}

{my favorite legal minds :) }

It was truly the best way to celebrate the end of the last three years.  I love you girls!

A Normal Sunday

{this is pretty}

This marks my first weekend as a graduate, and let me tell you, it is bliss.  Law school may not always seem like a great deal, but graduation?  Graduation is the best deal around.

I mean, all I had to do is hand over the label of "student," complete with debt, eyesight deterioration, and the occasional movie theater discount, and in return, I got (1) sweet presents, (2) the peace of mind of knowing that I'll never have to take a final exam again, (3) a piece of paper that says I'm awesome, (4) some letters to put after my name, and (5) the right to ask people to pay me real money for my time.  Best. Deal. Ever.

Plus, as a little added bonus, graduation also marks my return to the Gregorian calendar!  I will no longer have to rely on class periods, semesters, and holiday breaks to measure my time.  Now I have hours, months, and even seasons!

I almost feel like a normal person.  I even went to brunch today at Tart and had a bloody Mary (review coming soon!).  Today, as in Sunday.  Because I didn't have any reading or outlining or anything to do.  (Can you see me smiling through the screen yet?)  If I were religious, I would praise some version of God right now.  But I'm not, so instead, I will drink my Sunday cocktail and dance ecstatically around my apartment (that one's for you, Lauren!) and be thankful to the universe.

Cheers to Normality!

J. to the D.

I did it!  I am now newly a law school graduate!  A real life J.D., Juris Doctorate, if you will.  (Brian already has title envy.)

I'm happy to report that my nightmare of tripping during the walk and spraining my ankle and/or splitting my chin open (childhood traumatic memories) did not come true.  But I did get a perfectly formed sunburn on the back of my neck.  It looks awesome.

Besides a slightly redder neck, what I will take away from yesterday was how it felt to graduate for the last time (the last time?!!!!).  It was sweaty.  Maybe the sweatiest day of my life.  But there was more than just that.  My professor, David Sklansky, gave a fabulous address, which he claimed no one would remember  (clearly I took this as a personal challenge to my brainpower).  He gave us only one piece of advice: he told us to look around, to take in this feeling of being on the cusp of our graduations and of our careers, and to hold on to that feeling forever.  He told us to store it away and come back to it in the dark times, when we forget why we became lawyers or question every decision we've made.  And for me, besides the sweatiness, the feeling was butterflies.

Yesterday morning, I woke up with that overly adrenalized, kind of nauseated, but can't stop smiling butterfly-y feeling.  My initial reaction, naturally, was to try to fix it - the "maybe if I eat something...?" reaction.  So I ate something.  But the butterflies still flitted about.  And then I realized that I should be grabbing this feeling, squeezing it with everything I've got and committing it to memory, not banishing it!  If you think about it, how many times have you had butterflies?  I can count the number of times on one hand: my first day of college, my first job interview, my first day of work last summer, my wedding day.  And now, law school graduation.  That's quite a list, no?  Maybe my favorite list of memories ever, and the butterflies were with me through all of those milestones.  They are like special occasion butterflies, and from now on, they will be welcomed with open arms and big smiles.

So whenever I think about Professor Sklansky's advice (which I will remember just because he said I wouldn't), I will remember how it felt to have sweaty palms, too much adrenaline pumping in my veins, a queasy feeling in my belly, and cheeks that ache from smiling.  And I will remember not only my law school graduation, but all of those other life moments that were important enough to entice the butterflies.

Cheers to the Class of 2011!

Study Buddy

Please tell me how I'm supposed to study when I'm sharing a couch with this guy?

P.S. This is not my dog; he's my parents' dog.  But I pretend he's mine for all intents and purposes (besides grooming, feeding, and poop scooping...).

Please Excuse Me...

{photo by Leonel Medrano, post processing by me}

...while I finish my law school education.  k thanks.  (I'll be back in a few days!)

P.S. I give you permission to laugh at my crazily different-sized eyeballs.  There's nothing I can do about it.

Reflection

{reflection in the Bahamas}

From literal to figurative.  You there yet?  Ok. 

I must admit that I am the worst when it comes to self reflection.  I remember becoming accutely aware of this weakness in high school religion class when we had to meditate at the beginning of each class session (that's a whole other post).  I think my record was like 10 seconds.  Seriously.  Since then, I've tried yoga, of the hot and not-hot varieties, and every time, I've failed to achieve whatever kind of peace of mind or mindfulness or present-ness or whatever you're supposed to feel when you ohm while simultaneously contorting your hips, inverting your head, and pressing your hands into prayer position (behind your back).  Quiet places don't bring me peace or make me want to think about anything other than how repressed I feel without noise.  Even filling out class evaluation forms at the end of the semester kills me.  I'm just too impatient to look back (I'm pretty sure I have undiagnosed ADD or something).

Well, this time, as my greatest almost-but-not-yet-accomplishment to date is staring me in the face, as is a move to LA, I am going to consciously take some time to reflect.  To think about the last three years -- what I want to take with me, and what I would prefer to leave behind (and how to do that).  I want to be able to take a step outside my head and consider the view of my life as it stands right now, and think about how I can make it even better in LA.  I'm really going to try.  I'll let you know how long it lasts.

Breaking Up with Berkeley

Dear Berkeley,

I'm sorry to have to do this to you, but after nearly three years, I think I owe it to you to be honest.  And in all honesty, it's about time I tell you that it's just not working out for me.

Your morning stench, the unsettlingly warm steam that rises from your street grates, the incessant shrieks of your bums calling me a nerd as I walk home from class -- these are all parts of you that have made it increasingly difficult for me to stay.  And there's one other thing.  I don't mean to to be too harsh, but I think it's fair to point out that you demand undeservedly high rent rates, but then are too broke to offer me any decent public services in return.  I mean, you never even bother to take out the trash that overflows from your decrepit frat houses onto your pot-holey streets every morning.  Holding my breath every three steps is only a viable option for so long.  Plus, morning trash fumes are just such a turn-off.

Please don't try to play the "But I'm only a 20 minute BART ride from the city!" card.  Frankly, your BART access does little to make up for your short-comings when the trains stop running before midnight.  And don't even get me started on your bus system.

Sure, we've had times together over the last three years that I will look back on and smile about.  Like the time when Lisa and Shahrzad danced with a strange man who had a toothbrush and toothpaste in his shirt pocket at one of your bars.  Or the time that my friends made me walk down your dirty wet streets in the dark while I clutched my pepper spray only to surprise me with a birthday party.  Or all the time I've spent sprawled on Leslie's carpet, eating her delicious dips.  Or the times I spent drinking wine with Brian on your hillside staircase, the sun setting behind the campanile and the dusk lighting hiding your gritty flaws.  But those memories don't have to do with you.  They have to do with the people who have been part of my life here over the last three years, and those people will be with me always, regardless of whether I stay here with you, or leave.

So what I'm trying to say is: it's not me, it's you.

It's over Berkeley; I'm leaving you for L.A.


Your ex,

Ashley