Fear and loathing in Seattle
I dropped my UW Law application in the mail yesterday. It wasn't nearly as frightening as I thought it would be -- although when I pulled the blue metal handle back toward me to check that the envelope had, in fact, fallen into the box and found that the tray came up empty, it did quicken my heart just a little bit. Finality is kind of scary.
I'm used to this, I tell myself. I did this just fine five years ago. It was no problem. Seriously.
I've felt a lot more anxious lately because I've taken to reading law school message boards -- those little cancerous corners of the internet where obsessive kids with stratospheric LSAT scores gather for elliptical discussions on the admissions matrix at "H" (as the ones in the know call Harvard) and squealing frantically about getting a phone call from some bigwig at that same school across the river (as BU's wonderful Professor Samons would sometimes refer to it). These things are sickening, destructive and do terrible things to one's mind and self-esteem; I'd sleep a hell of a lot better if I could just stop visiting www.lawschooldiscussion.com or furtively cruising profiles on www.lawschoolnumbers.com (yes, there's a website where you can post your LSAT/GPA combo... along with what schools you're applying to, and other similarly obsessed law school hopefuls can leave you messages wishing you well for the "cycle" (a phrase, which, to this day, conjures unpleasant images of fourth grade family life class, as my math teacher tried to awkwardly talk us through a filmstrip about the various vicissitudes of womanhood while the boys got to go play outside.)). It's sick and it's weird, but like lemon drop martinis, celebrity gossip websites and reruns of "My Super Sweet 16," it's a completely out-of-character habit I can't seem to quit.
The message boards scare me, sort of, but what gets me most is the little pang of guilt they engender. The people on there tell me (well, not me directly, but you know what I mean) that I should be trying for places like Penn and Duke and Columbia. And that makes me worry that I'm not casting a wider net or setting my sights "higher", as these things go. (And by the way, fuck the U.S. News and World Report rankings. Their magazine sucks; how did they get to be the arbiters of all things academic in this country? Seriously, good for ol' John Silber for never buying into that racket.)
It's completely irrational; I love Seattle; Chris is here, likes his program and likes Seattle; I don't want to move cross-country again; I don't feel some inherent need to go to an Ivy; and I sure as hell don't want to go to law school with the people on those message boards! UW was awesome -- the students seemed intelligent and happy, the professors were great and I got a really solid vibe. The seal on my law degree won't say anything about my worth as a person.
So, yeah. It'll all work out, internet message boards be damned. Of course, UW could decide they don't want my news-producin' ass anyway... in which case, it'll be back to the drawing board.
Anyway, I'm off to make lemon pepper chicken. My dad sent me a Calaphon skillet as an early Christmas gift, and I love it with a passion that should probably be reserved for children or exceptionally good dogs.
Never underestimate the therapeutic power of good cookware.
All for now, kids.
I'm used to this, I tell myself. I did this just fine five years ago. It was no problem. Seriously.
I've felt a lot more anxious lately because I've taken to reading law school message boards -- those little cancerous corners of the internet where obsessive kids with stratospheric LSAT scores gather for elliptical discussions on the admissions matrix at "H" (as the ones in the know call Harvard) and squealing frantically about getting a phone call from some bigwig at that same school across the river (as BU's wonderful Professor Samons would sometimes refer to it). These things are sickening, destructive and do terrible things to one's mind and self-esteem; I'd sleep a hell of a lot better if I could just stop visiting www.lawschooldiscussion.com or furtively cruising profiles on www.lawschoolnumbers.com (yes, there's a website where you can post your LSAT/GPA combo... along with what schools you're applying to, and other similarly obsessed law school hopefuls can leave you messages wishing you well for the "cycle" (a phrase, which, to this day, conjures unpleasant images of fourth grade family life class, as my math teacher tried to awkwardly talk us through a filmstrip about the various vicissitudes of womanhood while the boys got to go play outside.)). It's sick and it's weird, but like lemon drop martinis, celebrity gossip websites and reruns of "My Super Sweet 16," it's a completely out-of-character habit I can't seem to quit.
The message boards scare me, sort of, but what gets me most is the little pang of guilt they engender. The people on there tell me (well, not me directly, but you know what I mean) that I should be trying for places like Penn and Duke and Columbia. And that makes me worry that I'm not casting a wider net or setting my sights "higher", as these things go. (And by the way, fuck the U.S. News and World Report rankings. Their magazine sucks; how did they get to be the arbiters of all things academic in this country? Seriously, good for ol' John Silber for never buying into that racket.)
It's completely irrational; I love Seattle; Chris is here, likes his program and likes Seattle; I don't want to move cross-country again; I don't feel some inherent need to go to an Ivy; and I sure as hell don't want to go to law school with the people on those message boards! UW was awesome -- the students seemed intelligent and happy, the professors were great and I got a really solid vibe. The seal on my law degree won't say anything about my worth as a person.
So, yeah. It'll all work out, internet message boards be damned. Of course, UW could decide they don't want my news-producin' ass anyway... in which case, it'll be back to the drawing board.
Anyway, I'm off to make lemon pepper chicken. My dad sent me a Calaphon skillet as an early Christmas gift, and I love it with a passion that should probably be reserved for children or exceptionally good dogs.
Never underestimate the therapeutic power of good cookware.
All for now, kids.