FINALS

They're here!  The worst part of every semester.  There's truly nothing good about finals.  I have taken two so far, with two to go.  At every other school and in every other class I have been an excellent test taker.  But in law school, I'm not.  Or...at least I think.  Actually, I have no idea, and this is one of the reasons law exams are stupid.  I could have gotten two A's or two C's; I have no idea or instinct about how I did. And when I find out, it still won't make sense.  What's more, three hours of derranged legal memo drafting based on a complicated hypothectical fact pattern does not demonstrate in the slightest what kind of advocate I can be.  And to top it off, the merit-based scholarship system is dysfunctional and really just a bait-and-switch tactic.

And despite all of this, I freak out about grades.  I pull all-nighters to study.  I get stressed out and I can't sleep at night when I want to.  And I will probably check out CampusConnect compulsively until grades are posted. 

But, despite all of that, I am going to really enjoy my three weeks off! 

I've made a list of things I plan on doing:
1.  Visit my niece (Johnny and Andrea's baby), Kenley Grace
2.  Learn to knit
3.  Christmas shop/finish making presents (lots of scarves this year...I'm crocheting them!)
4.  Go to Rochester, NY, with Cliff to visit my grandparents
5.  Watch the Bears win the division
6.  Learn to snowboard
7.  Read ahead for next semester
8.  Visit Emily Hunt


All the list continues to grow.  It's what's motivating me to get through next week.  And I think you will understand, when you see this unbelievably adorable and precious two-day-old little girl!  (She was born 11/29).

Some news...

So, some of you may know by now, but for those of you who don't, the Center that I worked at this summer suffered extensive damage due to flooding brought on by two tropical storms that passed through San Cristobal last week.  We are pulling together emergency funds, and I am trying to find a venue that will donate its space for a benefit dinner within the next two weeks.  If anyone out there has any idea where this can be done, please pass the info along.  I have emailed/called several places, but most of them charge high fees to rent the space.  So I'm just not looking in the right place, because there has to be a place out there and I have to find it soon.

In other news, school is running relatively smoothly.  I was way behind the first few weeks, but then I dropped Biz Orgs, which saved my academic life.  It was way too much work and too confusing.  I didn't like the professor, and it made my schedule extremely difficult.  But now, things are really starting to flow, so I'm glad for that.

I went to New Orleans last weekend for the National Lawyer's Guild Convention (progressive lawyers/law students group).  It was three days full of panels and time well spent in the French Quarter.  The city was so inviting and fun.  I would love to go back!  And some of the panels were very powerful (especially one on housing as a human right, a particularly important issue in NOLA right now).  Made some great friends, and recentered myself on the work I'm doing.  It can be hard being a progressive law student and feeling like you just don't belong because you're not there for the same reasons that most other students are.  So it's really refreshing and encouraging to have a new group of friends who understand and relate!

Actress Rachael Albers (of DePaul and Chiapas fame) is in for the next couple of weeks.  She held an awesome panel on Theatre of the Oppressed, so many gold stars to her for coming back to DePaul and sharing her passion!

And more exciting news, my family has finally agreed not to celebrate Christmas this year!  I have been on that boat for years, but we always seem to get sucked up into it even after we say we don't want to.  But this year, everyone is seriously broke.  I'm hoping that this will influence them to see how backwards the holdiay is, but one step at a time I guess.  But good news for me, nonetheless!!

That's all for now because I have a billion things to do today.  But if you want to support the Centro in any way, or if you want to be invited to the dinner, let me know.

Peace in the Middle East!

A little detour from homework at Rinn Law Library...

Alright, alright.  I had this great plan for all these long installments of interesting stories about Mexico.  But, I just got busy, so maybe they will be sprinkled in with just regular stuff about my life.  Here are some normal updates:

I'm in five classes: Remedies, Business Organizations, International Protection of Human Rights, Evidence, and Criminal Procedure.  I like some of them.  You might be able to guess which ones.

My caffiene addiction is back in full swing, and the guilt associated with gluttonously guzzling gallons of glucose made by my friends at Coca-Cola and Starbucks is my addiction's infallible sidekick. 

My friend Ronny is visiting this weekend from Mexico, so I get to do fun touristy things tomorrow and Monday.

It's cold out, and I hate it. 

I really miss everyone that I met in Mexico.  I had some pretty enlightening experiences, and friends that indulged me to ramble on as I thought out loud.  And I miss being so far removed from my lifestyle here.  Even though I was uncomfortable a lot of the time in Mexico, I was stretching and growing.  When I got home, all of it stopped, and it was hard to adjust to being back home.  But the experience overall showed me changes I want to make in my life, solidified values and goals, and inundated my brain with questions that keep me wanting to learn.

Here's something kind of cool:  I've been looking into internships for next summer, and I found one in California dealing with indigenous women's rights.  There are some exciting prospects...thanks idealist.org!

Ok I should be studying.  I am so good at staying distracted.

Repaso 1: Work

It should come as no surprise that this blog was neglected, just like every other blog or journal I've ever tried to maintain.  Really, at the end of the day, sometimes you just don't want to talk about it.  But here we are, nearing the end of the Chiapas Practicum, and I feel like I need to leave some footprint here about the past month. 

So, I'll start with work.  I'm assisting with several cases right now, but the central case is one I've been working on all summer.  It is a petition for a review of a homicide case.  An indigenous woman was accused and convicted of murdering her husband, but she did not receive any semblance of a fair trial.  Apart from this, the center has taken on cases involving pension/alimony (see photo to the left: me and Luisa, the daughter of a women whose pension case the center is carrying, at the site of the land given to the woman to build a house), custody, orders of protection, and other defense work. 

The judicial system here is drastically different than that of the US.  I've been to municipal and traditional courts for various hearings and steps in the trial process.  One of the main differences is that in Mexico, the trial is written, not oral, and usually takes place in an office with the parties all present typing away the relevant document.  (For example, preliminary statements to the authorities, which have the weight of depositions, are taken at the municipal court in one of several offices with old computers.  The statement is typed up as the person gives it, and then it is printed and copies are sometimes made.  And, if you'll let me stretch this side note a bit farther, let's talk about the printers.  They are as loud as the very first printer I ever remember seeing, and you put one legal-sized page in at a time, and then you must turn it over and put it back through to print on the other side.  And so very long files, which are common, take a long time to print.  I think Mexico's judicial system would double its efficiency if they used printers that printed more than one page at a time, and printed the pages faster than their current speeds, which is near the equivalent of handwriting.)

In addition to casework, the center does workshops and popular education in the surrounding indigenous communities.  I've gone to quite a few of these, and it's both exciting and frustrating at the same time.  What a humbling experience to be allowed and accepted into these communities and to be able to watch women and girls as they work through some of the problems facing their community.  But, it's difficult, too; sometimes there isn't a lot of participation, sometimes the fear is too thick, sometimes the division to sharp, and the women do not open up.  The oppression is on their faces.  There are consequences to what they share.  They often do not trust each other.  And it's depressing, too; sometimes the women are discouraged when they learn about their rights, because all it does is show them how they don't have those rights.  Some women choose not to know.  And I can't exactly blame them for that.  But, it's uplifting, too; I've seen some breakthroughs through art, and through dynamic games (which are an unbelieveably effective tool!), and I've seen trust form in a couple of communities. 

Overall, this work has led me to rededicate myself to human rights work.  It's really easy, being in Chicago, watching classmates vie for lucrative positions, to strive for the same thing.  But I know that salary is only relevant with regard to my ability to pay back my debt.  And I've heard things like, "just give it a few years, you will see how people in this field really are," "or, your passion for it will die out once you get into the 'real world.'"  And I think there's legitimacy to those statements.  We all bring baggage into human rights work.  We are all drawn here for different reasons, and some of them are really fucked up reasons.  And we all have shortcomings, we can all be petty, we simply don't have the shoulders for bearing the weight of our work 24/7.  And as for the passion, well, I think when we face stress in life we try to give ourselves a break, we look for shortcuts, and we slack in some way.  Human rights workers are humans.  And I know that sometimes we get in the way of work.  But I feel dedicated and re-energized. 

Well, for the sake of getting something done this morning, I'll end this post with a To Be Continued.  And I'll leave you with one of my favorite pictures from this whole trip.  It's of the girls from El Puerto, and the girl in the back is holding a copy of an international convention on the rights of young people.  The two girls in fron thave their lips pierced.  The one girl who is hiding did not make eye contact with anyone the entire day.

A Month in Mexico

It's difficult to describe the past few weeks.  I've lived abroad before, but this time it's different.  There is so much stress!  Some interesting events have transpired.  Here's a brief list.

1-- At 1:00am on Monday, June 7th, my birthday, I was mugged....sort of.  Roommates Cynthia and Sahiry and I were walking toward our house, sober mind you, we hadn't been out drinking.  I saw a shadow to my right on the road of someone on a bicycle approaching quickly, so I turned to face it.  A guy about my age grabbed my butt and my bag.  I tried to swat him away, but to no avail.  He snapped my bag right off my shoulder and turned the corner on bike.  So I chased him down.  I ran after him, and when he saw this skinny white girl running after him, he did a double take and slowed down.  Then he turned back around and tried to pedal away, but I had already caught up to him. I put my feet on each side of his bike, grabbed his shoulders, and pulled us and the bike to the ground.  Then I grabbed my bag back and started screaming at him.  Then he started to cry, more to get away with what he did, but I wasn't buying it.  He eventually rode off, but not with my bag.

2--- At 3:30am on Monday, June 14th, my third roommate Natalie decided it was about time she go to the hospital because she had slept for two days, except when she was in the bathroom sick, which happened with increasing frequency.  She was moaning in pain when we took her in.  She was admitted, and was there until Tuesday at 7:00pm.  Cynthia, Sahiry, and I took turns sleeping on the uncomfortable couch in the room which, I might add, was not quite clean.  Neither was the sheet with blood all over it hanging out of the garbage can in the hall.  Anyway, it was a LONG couple of days.

3-- At one point during our extended stay at the hospital (and, oh, it felt like an extended stay), I decided to get my own tests done.  I found out I have residual salmonella typhus, a very strong bacterial infection, and some other infection not worth naming because it's gross.  So I'm on medication now and cannot have dairy, broth, sugar or alcohol for a week. 

4-- At another point during the hospital stay, I asked the nurse to take my weight.  When I converted kilos to pounds on my phone, I thought I had made a mistake.  But no, I was right, I have lost twelve pounds in the past month.  I weigh the same now as I did in high school. 

5-- I found a place called Kitch 'n' Bagels that sells- you guessed it- kitchy knick knacks and fresh bagels.  It's a place where you can go to rent movies and watch them in a room that looks like an opium den.  You can play pool, or you can listen to a story teller.  There are also tarot card readings.  They offer a wide selection of small glass boxes containing skeleton figurines in dresses or farmwear, waiting on benches or sipping sodas with companions, usually with a cheesy saying painted somewhere on the box, usually something like "te amo siempre."  It's the weirdest place ever, but the bagels are good.

6-- I went to a house party where the cover was either 20 pesos or a "kilo of help."  I later learned this means that the party is a fundraising event for a good cause, but it will be full of many hippies and backpackers who seem to have taken an oath against showering or even swimming.  There they will be, with flea-infested dogs in tow (no exaggeration).  It's not that I don't like meeting each of these people individually; it's more that I don't like being close to people who reek and could potentially give me fleas or one of the infectious skin diseases that are prevalent here (according to a friend who lives here).  Especially when accompanying the odor and parasitic potential is a weed-induced, half-hour lecture about how much you don't understand the life of the people here because you could never know because you are from the States.  So I bring the kilo of help (bag of rice or other non-perishable), I get a beer and I sit by the fire (there is usually a fire), which I figure wards off smell and bugs.  Viva la lucha, Viva la ducha.

So, lots going on.  I'm helping with a case at the Center for Women's Rights.  It's pretty intense and it's really a challenge.  I'm really, really, really getting sick of tacos.  I am vascillating between feelings of guilt for having so many luxuries at home and a ferocious desire to get back to them. 

That's not to say that I'm not enjoying my time here.  I have wonderful roommates, and I am really honored by the work the Center is allowing me to help with.  I like what I'm doing.  I've made a lot of sacrifices for what I'm doing.  This is by no means a vacation.  I will write more about the Center another day.  Suffice it to say that this experience is stretching me and will forever impact my life and my career.  My homesickness is not enough to send me home, and it's not enough to blind me to what's going on in Chiapas, the serious human rights violations that are all around me at all times.  I know why I'm here, and I know I made the right decision to come here.  I guess I'm going on like this because tomorrow is Dani's wedding, and I'm not there, and she's not happy about it.  It's devastating.  Literally, I'm very upset.  But there is nothing I can do to change the situation.  But my helplessness and my grief is nothing compared to what is around me.  I can go home in a month in a half. 

Well, if you've made it through this, you get a gold star!  Kind of weighty, this one.  I'll bring levity to the next. 

Diez Dias en San Cris

I'm taking advantage of this rare internet connection in the new apartment to bring news to the outside world.  This morning, the group that was here for ten days left.  What an intense program!  But it was intensely rewarding.  I made some new friends, and I'm glad I'll get to see them in the fall.  I've learned a lot here in Chiapas so far, and I've been here less than two weeks.  I've been to places I never thought I would ever get to see, and that many others don't get to see.  If you are thinking about doing this program next summer, I think you should sign on without hesitation.

The setback for me was getting sick, which happened around Sunday and is still lingering a little.  I'm on the up-and-up, though.  The four of us here for an extended stay moved into an apartment this morning, which we found yesterday.  We were told it had internet.  We were not told you only get one bar of internet and you only get it when you are in the living area.  Boo!  So I can't sit on my bed and Skype or check email or aimlessly browse the internet.  This makes me angry, even if my anger betrays an ugly addiction to internet.  Don't judge me!  I miss my family and Cliff, and internet is the only way to talk to them. 

Other than these problems, most things here are pretty awesome.  It's hard to describe San Cristobal.  It's really, really laid back.  The streets run for the most part north to south and east to west, but there are exceptions.  There are two main roads which run perpendicular to each other called "andadores" or "walkways," where there are no cars allowed.  The sidewalks are very, very narrow, at some points about a foot across, at the most two.  The streets and sidewalks are cobblestone, and "slippery when wet" is a huge understatement.

The intersections are confusing.  There are red lights that flash the word "uno," meaning only one car at a time.  In theory, this means that the traffic coming from two streets in the intersection (only two streets because most are one-way) weave together.  In practice, it's more complicated.  I've seen three or four cars go before someone from the other street goes, and if someone honks, it seems to give them a pass right through.  And pedestrians are on their own, even though technically they have the right of way.  We kind of weave, too.  But on the andadores there are people walking very slowly, just meandering around talking to people and going into shops and bars.  There is definitely a backpacker vibe here, but not everywhere. 

The buildings are super old and colonial style, but there are businesses in them.  It's a strange juxtaposition of the old and the new.  There are indigenous women walking around in traditional dress selling woven belts or popcorn, and there are Europeans with unruly kids and unruly hair, and there are people dressed modernly going to work or trying to hand you a flyer for a party at a bar later. 

Well, hopefully you have some mental image of San Cris, and hopefully I will supplement that later.  All for now; Natalie (roommate) hears some people downstairs so we are going to investigate. 

P.S. This a Burger King.

Doppleganger Alert

I found this picture next to a NY Times article I read online.  All the other pictures of her don't look like me exactly, but this one kind of freaks me out.

M.P. Dunleavey.

Me.

Weird, huh?

Batteries suck

My Criminal Law exam is tomorrow morning at 9am.  At 1pm, I will pick up my take home Contracts exam.  Naturally, I came to Julie's house to study for tomorrow.  Around 9pm, I was ready to go home, but when I tried to start my car, the battery was dead.  I went to 7-11 (obviously Julie lives in a nice neighborhood; they have 7-11s) and bought jumper cables.  Ryan and I charged my car for around a half an hour to no avail.  The battery is completely dead.  So, I'm staying the night at Julie's.  I have no idea what tomorrow is going to look like, but hopefully the problem is just the battery.

The cherry on top?  I fell asleep studying on the couch last night, so I didn't charge my phone.  It's also dead.

I hate batteries.  At least I have my computer charger! 

Finding the silver lining-ly,

Rochelle

I need a sedative

I leave for Mexico in one week. The past few days have been highly stressful and emotional. Being gone this summer means missing my brother’s graduation, three weddings (one of which I was supposed to be in), about ten birthdays including mine and Cliff’s, my three year anniversary with Cliff, and everything that comes with a summer at home. I’m giving up a lot to do this internship. I have a one-way ticket to Cancun and a bus ticket to San Cristobal for four days later. I don’t know where I’m living, but there are people down there already looking out for a nice place for me to stay near the center where I’ll be working.

So the plan is to post in this journal, Skype, Facebook, and email to keep in touch with everyone. To some, especially my family, this is a crazy decision. I see it as a risk worth taking. I will be working with the director of a women’s center near the center of San Cristobal. I will be safe, and I won’t be alone. Our coordinator told me that this particular center loves to have interns from DePaul, and they take their interns under their wing, making sure they are socially involved with the people who work there. I’m really excited about what’s to come, even though I’m terribly sad to leave.

I just want those who doubt my decision to consider why I’m going. The work that I will be doing in Mexico is exactly the kind of work I want to do as a career. It’s the reason I sank myself in debt to come to law school. It’s the part of law school that I was most excited about: travelling while I still can, meeting people who work at and run NGOs, helping people in need where possible, and experiencing first-hand the costs and rewards of public service. This summer, I hope, will keep me motivated to get through the grueling banality of law school (although I hear it gets better from here on out) and give me the strength to resist selling my soul to corporate law for lots of money (and it is lots of money).

On a related note, my property final yesterday went alright, but there was a disproportionate amount of questions about trademark and copyright law, which I think was unfair, and the entire exam was very poorly written. I do wish I had given myself more time for the essay portion, but I think the extra time spent on the multiple choice will pay off. My criminal law exam is on Friday. Yowza!
Now arriving at Chicago Union Station.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
For a little study break:  Cram Jam

It Don't Matter If You're Blackacre or Whiteacre...

I hate both!  Property is almost over.  I've been cramming for most of the past week, and I still feel like I haven't mastered it the way I wanted to.  I will say I have a much more organized system that last semester's patented "Try to Re-Read Everything and When You Can't, Start Crying" method. 

Speaking of losing your mind, have you ever witnessed the precise moment when a person goes from being eccentric to full out loony?  Last night, a few of us were sitting in the front room of my parents' house, and my sister looked up from her Mac with this kooky look in her eyes.  She said, "Oh my gosh.  I am on Facebook on my computer while I'm on Facebook on my phone."  And she held up her iPhone to show us.  We stared wide-eyed, then just shook our heads.  iBeast- 1, Nikki- 0.

For Nicole, and everyone else with and iGadget: iGeneration Tribute

If you see something, say something

Yesterday, Julie (lawschool friend) and Ryan (her boyfriend) came over to our house so that Julie and I could study and Cliff and Ryan could do whatever.  Ryan and Cliff decided around 6pm to go to R +J's apartment in the city to let their dog out, so they could stay out later and go to a party at another friend's house.  Julie and I stayed and studied more and planned to meet them at the party later. 

Then we got a call about two hours later from the boys.  They were parked on 90/94 outbound near 91st.  Odd time and place for gridlock, we thought, so Julie and I looked it up.  NewsRadio 780 was reporting that the lane closures were due to a "haz mat situation."  Their website showed a little accident icon in the spot on the highway where the boys were, and when you hovered over it, it displayed the message: INCIDENT ALERT ALL LANES SHUT DOWN MEDIUM SEVERITY LEVEL. 

Well, turns out it should have read EFFING CRAZY SEVERITY LEVEL.  This was no over-turned tanker truck.  In fact, there was nothing overturned at all.  There was no accident.  There was, however, a "suspicious package" found on the Red Line at 95th, so law enforcement shut down all lanes of traffic for more than an hour, and eventually started herding the cars off via on-ramps. 

Poor guys.  Ryan had to listen to most of the game in the car, and Cliff peed in a pop bottle.  So when we got to the party, I wasn't too mad at Cliff when he showed me that he bought one of these:

http://crystalheadvodka.com/index.php?age=true

Do I look illegal to you?

I don't have a lot of time to post today, but I've been meaning to write a little about the new immigration law in Arizona.  I taught adult immigrants from Mexico for one and a half years after college.  I've met dozens of "illegal aliens."  Many of them have met my family and some have been to my house.  And I can tell you that they don't look any different from my students who were legal.  Sure, all of them have different physical appearances, but there was nothing that distinguished my undocumented students from my documented students at first blush.  Or even second blush.  Even the governor admitted she did not know what an illegal immigrant looks like, but she said if the police "work on this" and "get a description" then the law will be enforced fairly and without discrimination.  Right.

I have heard people say their shoes could distinguish them.  Or their clothes.  Or their jobs.  This is not only ludricris, it's insulting.  Shoes or clothes?  If that is all that's taken into account, then every person, regardless of race, would be profiled based on their personal style or perhaps economic status.

But we all know that the illegal immigrants targeted by this bill are Hispanic, mostly from Mexico.  So how can there possibly be no element of racial profiling, which is supposedly outlawed by the bill itself? 

The bill says that once legal contact is made (which, may I point out, could occur pretty much for any reason: a broken tail light or an incidental swerve over the line could result in being pulled over), then the officer may ask for papers if the subject is acting "reasonbly suspicious." 

Ok.

What is reasonably suspicious?  Is it sweating, shifty eyes, perhaps weeping?  Is it a certain walk?  Is it speaking Spanish?  Is it a full car?  Or is it the lack of something?  The lack of an expensive car or designer clothes?  The lack of knowledge about the rules of the road?  The lack of white features?  Honestly, what are they looking for.  We need to find their training manual, because I want to know what tells them who is illegal and who isn't without racial profiling.  If the police think that all illegal immigrants drive bad cars, wear dirty clothes, speak only Spanish, and can't control their fear in the presence of police, well, then they are ignorant.  News flash: there are illegal immigrants who do not, and there are legal ones who do. 

It's inevitable that legal immigrants and citizens will be asked for papers.  If I were a Hispanic citizen living in Arizona, I would need to carry proof of citizenship around, wouldn't I?  Or would there be something about me that would distinguish me from an "illegal?"  How is this not racial profiling?!  I suppose a Canadian living or vacationing in Arizona would also have to show documentation.  For those who support the bill, this hypothetical, along with explicit language in the bill outlawing racial profiling, seems to be proof that it will not happen. 

But we all know, or at least my fellow law students do, that a bill does not have to be discriminatory on its face.  Hello, disparate effect!

Then there are those who see no problem with racial profiling.  Notice, they are all white.  They've never been the subject of racial profiling, and don't understand why "slight inconvenience to a few people" is such a big deal.  I'm not going to let that ruffle my feathers, because it's beyond the point.

The point is that the law is unconstitutional.  It will inevitably lead to judging somone based on their race or other physical attributes.  The government is simply not authorized to do that.  It is against the values of most Americans and against American law.  Let's hope the Supreme Court does the right thing and strikes this down. 

I'm posting a video from MediaMatters.org.  If you don't know who they are yet, you should.

Fox's Judge Napolitano says the AZ immigration law could lead to racial profiling

Here is a great video about the governor's response to the question, "What does an illegal immigrant look like?" and Judge Napolitano's explanation of the illegality of this law.

Fox's Judge Napolitano says the AZ immigration law could lead to racial profiling

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Who is the reasonable man?

In criminal law. I wish I got more out of this class. It's disappointing, and I'm afraid of getting to civil procedure and my professor asking, "What did you even learn?" and I'll squeak out, "Utilitarianism?" At least it's almost over; this is the last week of classes.

Rough to-do list:
Finish reading, which should be done before the reading period.
Outline
Register for classes
Journal write-off article
Campaign for SBA position (elections next week)
Get things in order for Mexico
Credit card bills
Alumni weekend at Eureka


So, I'm busy. The first two items on that list are more time-consuming than I can even tell you. I don't know how it's going to get done. It might not. But it has to.


I had a really good weekend, in case you were wondering. The first bonfire of the season was on Friday at our friends Chris and Kelly's house. Then on Saturday, my friend Emily came up from El Paso, IL, to see David Sedaris with me. We laughed our butts off. And he drew animals in our books. He asked me what animal he should draw, and I said, "Can you draw a dachshund?" He snorted. "Can I draw a dachshund? Ha." And he drew a really good dachshund. I got a penguin in the other book. Emily got a cat and a flamingo.


Class is over.
Listfully,

Rochelle

You've Got Trail

Sometimes, when I am supposed to be working on an assignment, I get distracted.  I open up my favorites folder, the place I put things I don't want to remember now, but I don't want to forget, and let the interweb guide my attention to some erroneous sidetrack, through a series of tubes, and then to another, then another, then another. 

Today, while avoiding a 3,700-word trial brief that must have a word count and academic integrity pledge stapled to it by 10:00am tomorrow morning, I opened up my favorites folder and found Jayme's blog.  I read it, and then I found Abbi's.  And then I thought, "I need one of these."

Thus, the paper trail.  See, it's a cute title, because I am on a course in my life that involves a lot of paper, which would probably carry more meaning if I were studying environmental law.  Anyway, I've regretted not keeping up a journal since I abandoned my old one when I was in college.  In some ways, I'm glad I haven't chronicled the torture of 1L.  On the other hand, it might have been nice to be able to look back at the most difficult four months of my life and be reminded of . . . Nope, nevermind, glad it's done. 

Well, almost done.  I still have to finish a trial brief and somehow stay focused enough to finish outlining and studying for finals.  I will say, though, that I have more energy and enthusiasm than last semester.  It's entirely because the day after finals end, I'll be on a one-way flight to Mexico. 

Studiously,
Rochelle

~~~~~~~~~~

She had this attitude, not that she was better than us but that she was as good as us -

and that simply was not true.

~David Sedaris, When You Are Engulfed in Flames