Monthly Archives: December 2011

Will Tomorrow Be the Day?

Some of you already know that I’m in the process of applying to law schools. Unfortunately, since this is such a complex and time-consuming process, this particular theme has dominated this blog for quite a while.

On December 3rd, I took the LSAT- which is a test that all law school hopefuls must take in order to complete their application for admission. This silly standardized test has a lot of power in deciding where you’ll be accepted to, and along those lines, what jobs you will get and what kind of life you will have. Because of this, we, aspiring lawyers, all sweat the LSAT like no other thing in the world (except for the BAR, of course. But that’s another story).

Going into taking the test, I knew the scores release date would be January 6th, 2012. At this point you may be thinking that it’s just around the corner (or that this is perhaps the most boring thing I’ve written about). But I found out yesterday, that the scores are usually released a few days before the actual release date. In fact, this is almost always the trend.

So here I am thinking that tomorrow could be the day. Although it will be about two months or so before I actually hear back from schools I’ve applied to (which now we’re at 10 submitted apps out of 17), and that the LSAT is in no way a guarantee that you will get accepted anywhere, getting that score will tell me, for the most part, what the future holds for me and my family. Pretty scary, isn’t it?

So what will happen? Will I be celebrating this New Year’s Eve, or crying my eyes out?

-Mrs. This One

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A Bit Surreal

Does your life ever seem surreal? Like, you stop doing whatever you’re doing for just a moment just to ask yourself: “How did I get here?” This question never comes in a negative tone for me, but it happens more often than I’d like to. It actually happened just two minutes ago as I left the room where my wife and her cousin are playing Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 3.

I don’t know know why this happens to me. I’ve come to think that it may have something to do with the fact that I’m so far away from the world I grew up in, that sometimes I feel like everything around me is just a dream. A good one, no doubt- but different nonetheless. Could it be possible that I actually miss my roots? And even if I did, what’s the point? There is nothing left of my childhood’s environment. It’s just me, my gal, and whatever is forward.

Okay- I need to go back before they notice I’ve been gone for too long.

-Mrs. This One


Having a Guy Sleepover

Will I be able to publish this post before my battery bails on me? Only time will tell. . .

I hear I’m not the only one who felt like Christmas was really nothing this year. What the hell is happening to us? Even in joyous times, we’re not enjoying ourselves. What does that say about us? The kind of people we are? The world we are leaving to our children? Our grandchildren?

We are having our little cousin over for what he termed a “guy sleepover:” cereal + videogames + electric guitars. And I thought guys only watched porn during sleepovers- or maybe that was just horny guys. Anyhow, I, of all people, should not stereotype.

Oops! It seems it’s my turn at the controller- Catch y’all later!

-Mrs. This One


Love for Xmas

So it is Christmas Eve. Although, not quite “eve” yet. There is some sort of Christmas music playing in the background. A CD that my MIL must have found in some weird store. The music has just been interrupted by my FIL who wants to put a football game on. I rejoice quietly in the back as I type this. I am also sipping a perfectly crafted cup of coffee (kona, creamer, and pumpkin syrup).

I spoke to my grandmother yesterday. I was told she burned herself badly with boiling water making something for my grandfather. It hurts not being able to rush over to where she is and take care of her. The best I could do for now was a phone call.

She assured me that she was fine. Such a grandma thing to do- she would try anything to make sure I’m not worried or stressed. She tells me the burns are better now and that she’s using some sort of ointment that gives her some relief. I decided to ask her if my grandpa has been helping her, maybe putting the ointment for her.

You should know that it is not like me to ask this. I have grown to hate my grandfather for several reasons, one of which you will learn about soon. So I never really mention him. In fact, I only do when I need to. During his birthdays, I actually need to prepare myself to call him. I can’t just quite pick up the phone and do so. I have to work up to it.

As soon as my question was over, my grandma laughed. It was a “why-on-earth-do-you-think-he’d-do-something-like-that” kind of laugh. At this point I didn’t know what was worse, that she was in pain because of the burns, or that she’s been numb her whole life because she’s never known love. I added a meager “okay” to the conversation before changing the subject.

This made me realize that I couldn’t care less about the gifts I could get tonight or tomorrow. If I could wish for any gift in the world, it’d be for my grandma to know love. No one should ever die without knowing what that feels like.

-MTO


And to all, a good night.

What a great way to start my day… Thank you, H.


No Regrets

“No more talk about law school!” Chimed in my wife at about 1:30am. She was not feeling well, and I was keeping us up yet again with another law school conversation. I just can’t stop talking about it. In fact, talking about it makes me feel better because then I don’t have all of these thoughts messing up with my brain. But in making an effort not to talk about law school, allow me to change the topic:

We took our little cousin (well, he’s my wife’s cousin, but I’m pretty attached) to a movie last night, Sherlock Holmes 2. Let me tell you a little bit about him. He was the cutest little kid when I met him. Always wanting to play around with a ball. Which worked just fine with me, since I love to play soccer.

But then, some years later, he completely changed. He was no longer the soccer player, but now rather a grim teenager. He decided to go “emo.” Now he wears all black, always wears jeans, he straightens his hair, and he dies it black with streaks of different colors. Getting used to this change wasn’t easy for us (let alone for his parents). So when this trip around we find out that he’s a vegetarian, I cannot help but wonder what’s next. Since when do thirteen-year-olds become vegetarians?

We picked him up from school, and we tried to make conversation with him as we headed to the movies. He is no longer the kid full of life that he used to be. He always had a million questions, or some weird story to share. Now he just remains as quiet as possible. His demeanor made me think about what I was like at his age.

Well, not very different. Minus the “emo” part, I just didn’t spend a lot of time with my family. In fact, I was always sick when there were family reunions happening. Now that I’m so far apart from my family, I regret not taking advantage of my time better. I know everyone says we ought to live a life of no regrets, but what happens when you’re too young to know that you’re doing something you will regret?

My cousin is a bit taller than my wife, and part of the reason why he doesn’t want to each much, if at all, is because he wants to stay at that height. He wants to kill his growth. His parents can try all they want, but if this is what he wants, he will get around it somehow. What if at 25 he realizes he hates being shorter than he could have been? Will he regret what he’s doing now?

-Mrs. This One


How Did You Pick Your School?

Four applications in, thirteen more to go. Usually I would cherish the fact that I at least got some applications in, but for now all I can think about is that I’m not even halfway through. It does feel a bit surreal that I applied to some schools. Like, did it really happen? Is this a dream?

Okay, enough with the blabber. One thing that I’ve gotten out of this application process is that there is one school that actually rings my bell. They have a different perspective to the whole law school thing- and the more I deal with them, the more they confirm this for me. Because of how touchy this whole process is, I will call this school Dreamy Law School (nothing to do with Grey’s Anatomy, I promise).

I would love to go there because they’re different. The faculty is filled with bada**es. People who’ve traveled and done pretty unconventional research. What’s more, the dean is committed to make sure this is a life-changing experience for the students. You know how many deans actually care about the students? Well, I’m not sure either, but I bet it ain’t many. And one last added bonus, their campus drives me crazy (in a good way). I feel so much at peace when I’m there. But not everything is reindeer and rainbows. This school will have me live away from my girl, they are not the highest-ranked school (which it will matter plenty when I’m out looking for a job), and there’s the little inconvenience that my LSAT score needs to be good enough for them to accept me.

All in all, choosing a school out of thirteen (keep in mind this number will be smaller based on which schools actually take me) will be no walk in the park. So I turn this back at you- how did you pick your school? When did you know this was THE school you wanted to go to?

-Mrs. This One


Oh, Life is Bi(tt)er…

As promised (to myself, I suppose), I’ve started submitting my law school applications. I feel so tense that I think it would be way too easy for me to snap- of course I only know that because it has already happened.

If there’s something I’ve been told about school applications, whether for undergrad or other programs, is that typos are grounds for dismissal. Therefore, typos have become my archenemies. That’s why I asked my wife nicely to double-check my essays before I submitted them. Easy enough, right?

Well, the thing is that for law schools, you can’t really use one essay. Each school will ask you for some things that will not fit with another school’s requirements. By now, I think I’ve written about 6 essays for three schools. Anyway, I first submitted my USC application, and then UCLA’s followed.

When I was about to submit my Loyola’s application, I noticed a typo in a sentence after my wife had already gone through it. This one sentence I have used for the other two schools as well. Panic sunk in. I frantically looked for my other two saved applications hoping I was wrong. Nope, no chance. I submitted a typo to both of those applications. And mind you, it wasn’t just A typo. It was a typo at the very end of an essay. So this will be the last thing in their minds when they look at my application. Could you really blame me for snapping?

Well, now I feel like an a** because my SIL is right: this is my responsibility and I cannot put this on my girl. Though I could go on about how my SIL really needs to stay out of my relationship with MY wife, I’ll leave that for later and rather give her the credit she deserves. Besides, if someone had asked me to look over 6 essays in about four hours, I too would have missed a thing or two.

I wish this process were less demanding than it actually is. Or at least that after I submit an application, I’d get the little corny video of Rocky going up the stairs like WordPress used to do when I published something. Is that too much to ask for?

-Mrs. This One


It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

I hope you knew that when I said “tonight” in my last post, I really meant some time today. So here is a picture of what the tree looks like now:

Isn't it beautiful?

And a bonus of my favorite ornament:

-Mrs. This One


Tree Trimming Party

I started the day with a compliment on my writing. That seriously made my day, so thank you allisongolan!

Today my fall grades are due. Three professors have not activated their gradebook, so it is very unlikely that they will actually follow the deadline this time. They really never do- but I never lose hope. God forbid we are late turning in a paper or that we take an exam on a different date. I wish students could hold professors with the same accountability. Yes, yes, I know they’ve done all these things and they deserve it and so on and on. This is why I don’t write a letter to the dean about it. Like he/she would do anything about it anyway.

Anyhow, my wife and her sister are on their way to the doctor. They’re getting checked out for the cancer gene. In case you missed it, my MIL is a breast cancer survivor, so chances are that my love and her sister may have to go through the same at some point. The appointment was only for my SIL. But at the last minute, my MIL suggested my wife go too. She looked at me for confirmation and I saw the pain in her eyes. It broke my heart. She was probably thinking that we’re supposed to be having a vacation, free from stress. But if this is what’s best for her, then we just have to go through it. I stayed at home because I’m supposed to be working on my law school applications. Once I get through with this post, I’ll get on that- I think. The Mrs. has already submitted her graduate school applications. I’m jealous, I wish I could say the same.

Tonight we are having a tree trimming party. Which I understand to be a gathering in which we all decorate the tree. Well, this is what the tree looks like now:

To be decorated...

My hope is that tonight, I can follow up with a stunningly decorated tree. Keyword: “my hope.”

The only issue I’ll have is that the Steelers are playing tonight. Maybe I’ll be able to find a way to balance the game and the party. Oh, and did I mention we are only allowed to wear pajamas to this party?

-Mrs. This One


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