I'M SO NINJA

Created by Oatmeal

Shiny, Happy People

Dear Diary,

I now remember why I never come home and I hate it here so much

Oooo. Too melodramatic. Must stop channeling eighth grade.

The fact is, everything that glitters doesn't remain gold for long. The other fact is that I spend a lot of time on a lawnmower lately, and I spend more than enough time thinking.

At first, being at home was a great joy. I remembered how life used to be and it was this weird feeling of mini-nostalgia. But now trying to get the lawn mowed before it rains while the neighbors laugh at my stupid mistakes doesn't feel so good. It mostly feels like I have to bust my ass to make $50 a week so that I can buy a tiny cup of $1 coffee twice a week and still afford insurance, etc.

Work is great, I guess, except that there's not enough for me to do. Today I sat for two hours while I waited for phone calls. I did all of the petitions and orders necessary for a guardianship case, made appointments, called attorneys for advice on appropriate notice, and sent three client letters. I was still done by 12:30. I'm beginning to think that efficiency is not appreciated in the working world.

So summer has lost its glow and it's mid-June. But that doesn't mean I'm excited for school to start. Just like time at home, law school has about a two-week shiny period. Classes are new, the cases are different and exciting, you're caught up with your work and get to see friends every weekend. And then, just like that, the glitter is gone. You remember that the reason you're learning all this information is to take an exam, that you're paying far too much money in tuition to spend time going out with friends and that you're already behind in reading those exciting new cases.

No, I'm not ready for a whole new period of shiny yet. Shiny can be disappointing. It's better to wait until life is unbearably dull, because then shiny, though short-lived, is incredibly exciting.

She Works Hard For (No) Money

Oh, redesign. You look so modern. Or overly busy. I can't decide.

I like trains.

And with that having been said, I drafted my very first guardianship petition completely on my own. I've been doing them for a couple weeks now, but I've always had a model to work off of so that I just had to tailor to specific facts. But this week, I went to client meetings, took notes, did research, and drafted a completely new petition to file in court sometime next week after the client signs it.

And when I got it back from the attorney, it was all marked up in a good way. I didn't make "You forgot to say this" mistakes. The editing marks scoring the paper were all about making my language sound better. I forgot to cite to one statute, that I didn't even know to cite to. And one of the sections was in the wrong place. (Remember, Amanda, PUT THE BOTTOM LINE UP FRONT. Has LARC taught me nothing??) It was such a great feeling.

Beyond that, I've done all the documents for three of the hearings for grandparent guardianship day, helped write and edit a grant proposal, and gotten the paperwork and accounting ready for a fee request from a client trust. And the best part is? I know my work is GOING somewhere. I don't do busy work. There aren't enough hands to do the necessary work, so there isn't any time to LEARN what I'm supposed to be doing. There's just "Do the work and we'll deal with the mistakes when you're done."

The efficient, list-making, enjoy-being-busy side of me loves it. I can already see the result of the work I'm doing. Things is good. And my boss just decided last week that since I get things done so quickly, they're going to try to do ANOTHER day-long guardianship proceeding in a different county. Who gets to do all the work?

ME.

So. Excited.

I Got Nothing.

"Maybe if we seemed more dangerous, people would

stop flushing my glasses down the toilet all the time."

Glee might be my favorite show on television. The witty dialogue, the delightful characterizations, and my little brother brought up an interesting point last night: Ryan Murphy, one of the writers is from Indianapolis, and Vocal Adrenaline, the rival glee club, is supposed to be from Carmel High. Near Indianapolis there really is a Carmel High. The school's every fine arts club wins EVERY SINGLE COMPETITION EVER (they're regular state marching band champs) and the area is a rather wealthy one, which would explain why in last night's episode the "very active booster club" bought every member of Vocal Adrenaline a brand new SUV, ostensibly so they would never miss rehearsal.

Quite frankly, that just brings Glee closer to my heart.

I find Glee to be a rather refreshing show. Not because it's original, because who HASN'T seen these archetypes before. Seriously, it's practically a musical Breakfast Club with a larger cast. What's refreshing is the satirical tone that the show embraces. This show does not take itself seriously. It not only displays overblown characters with ridiculous personalities, but it embraces them and gives each of them a touch of something that makes them real.

And I think one of the VERY best things about it is how easy it is to identify with.

I don't know anyone who has one of those overblown personalities, but I will say that most of the people I know in law school were not cool in high school. Start asking around. I'm willing to bet we're all music and student government geeks. And we were also certain of our maturity.

While we don't often find ourselves in the actual scenarios of the characters (ie, trying to raise funds by selling pot cupcakes so that people will have the munchies and eat more cupcakes), we can understand the scenarios pretty well. Slushie in the face? More like being made fun of and brushing it off. Pretending to have a stutter in order to avoid having to do your homework? How about just staying quiet even though you have the answer so that nobody notices you? Somewhere along the line we all found ourselves in similar situations, even if we came up with dissimilar responses.

As for me? I was a music geek who was always in charge of everything. And if there was no authority to put me in power, I put myself in power. Because clearly I knew everything there was to know and could keep everyone in line. Yep, I was a micro-managing little Rachel Berry. And I'm PROUD of it.

I think everybody has one character on that show that they can identify with. Who were you in high school?