Oh, Drat

Well, gang, I'm hoping for better luck in February, because I did not get good news this evening.

The following is a letter that I wrote myself on the day before the bar exam.

Three Days

The results of the California bar exam will be released Friday evening.  My life has been slowly marching toward this day for years. I have thought about this Friday literally every day since I graduated from law school.  And, it is finally nearly here.

I'm extraordinarily nervous.  I'm trying not to freak out.  I'm trying to stay calm.  I'm trying to keep busy with cooking and friends and books and family and silly craft projects to take my mind off of the looming date.  I'm trying to focus on the message of Matthew 6:25-31.  But, it's difficult for me.  I'm afraid of humiliation, disappointment, imperfection, weakness, inferiority...  Of Failure with a capital "F".

Shortly before the bar exam, Erin sent me a link to a blog post entitled Please Stop Telling Me I'm Going to Pass the Bar. It sums up quite perfectly how I was feeling in the two weeks leading up to the bar exam.  Many of those sentiments still apply.  This part of the post was especially resonant for me:

Now, lots of smart people fail the bar exam. For a variety of reasons, it happens. These people are not failures. I can look at these people---people who I know and respect, and consider them bright, competent, amazing attorneys. The younger ones, I love and respect. I don't think they're idiots. For the older ones, it's a war wound, and a mark of character: proof that they really do "get" the real world. But if I don't pass? You guessed it. I'm a failure. Nobody said this psychology made sense.

It's an incredible, self-imposed double standard.  I would never judge someone for having failed the exam.  It's a tough exam!  Stuff happens.  But, if I fail the bar exam?  Well, that would make me a Failure.

Now, that's just ridiculous.  Regardless of what happens on Friday, life will go on.  As I blogged shortly before the bar exam,

It is only an exam.  It is not a measure of my self-worth.  I tried my best this summer and learned a lot, and that's good enough for me.

Thanks to everyone for walking along side me on this journey.  Thank you for the hugs, the popsicles, the Starbucks gift cards, the emails, the prayers, the listening ears, and the kitten study breaks.

See you on Friday.

In Defense of Thanksgiving

"November is my territory!" said Turkey haughtily, his wattle wobbling with disdain.  "Thanksgiving is in November, and Christmas is in December.  At the very earliest, you should come out on the Friday after Thanksgiving--no earlier!"

Christmas Tree rolled her eyes and adjusted the garland on one of her beautiful boughs.  "Turkey, I hear what you're saying.  But, so much of the autumn stuff plays out in September and October these days.  People are bored already, they're ready for a change!  I mean, pumpkin spice lattes are delicious, but folks have been drinking them since Labor Day.  Who can blame them for getting a peppermint mocha?"

"It diminishes the significance of both of our holidays," replied Turkey.  "Thanksgiving is no more about pumpkin than Christmas is about peppermint.  Each of our holidays celebrates a significant event.  For Thanksgiving, it is a time for family to gather to express their gratitude for the many blessings in their lives.  And, Christmas is about the birth of Jesus.  Each holiday deserves reverence.  Jump starting the stress and busyness of Christmas shopping does a disservice to both holidays."

"Let's cut to the chase, Turkey.  Nobody likes Thanksgiving.  I mean, it's alright, but it is not on the same level as Christmas.  You're just upset that people would rather sing carols and open presents than deal with grumpy distant relatives and eat one of your dried out cousins."  Christmas Tree smiled wickedly as Turkey ruffled his feathers, taken aback by her low blow.  She continued, "Have you ever heard someone sing a Thanksgiving carol?  I think not."

"First off, leave my family out of this.  Each year, we make a noble sacrifice for the goodness of the Thanksgiving tradition, and I will not tolerate your insults.  There have been many innovations in our cooking in recent years--oven bags, brining, even deep frying--that have greatly diminished the risk of our being dried out."  Turkey narrowed his eyes, a small smile creeping across his beak as he sensed Christmas Tree's weakness.  "More importantly, you know we have the better side dishes.  Green bean casserole, candied yams, cranberry sauce...  And, the pies.  Everyone loves the pies.  Did you know we're in the middle of a pumpkin crisis right now?  That's how much people love pumpkin--a shortage of it is referred to as a crisis."

Christmas Tree was silent, struggling to form a rebuttal.  Turkey went on, "But, this doesn't have to be a competition.  It's not about which holiday is better.  Christmas is a very important part of The Holidays.  All I am saying is that you need to give us some space, because we kick off this season.  By the way, you do realize that winter doesn't start until December 22nd?"

"Okay, okay, I understand.  You deserve some respect.  I don't totally agree with your food arguments--I mean, Christmas cookies?  Eggnog?  Candy canes?  Those tins of popcorn?--but, I see that we should take turns.  It's just difficult for me, because everyone loves Christmas so much, and who am I to deny them the opportunity to celebrate?"  Her eyes gleamed wistfully as she continued, "But, maybe you're right.  Maybe part of what makes Christmas so special is the fact that it is here but for a fleeting moment.  We'll focus on you for now, and it will make December that much more fun."  Christmas Tree smiled humbly.

"Thank you for hearing me out, Christmas Tree.  I think this will make us both happier in the long run.  Say, there are so many wonderful autumn things that we need to do before the weather turns frightful!  Want to go out for some apple cider?"

"That sounds lovely, Turkey."  And, as they departed, Christmas Tree turned off her lights deferentially.

Lurking in the shadows just around the corner, Cupid cackled softly.  Clutching his bow and arrows, he whispered, "That's right, let your guard down.  My time will come soon enough..."