littlemousling: Cartoon beaver joyously waving a Canadian flag (beaver)
So after three years of law school, two months of Bar studying, two days of testing, ten months of articling, and two hours of brain-melting ceremony, I became a lawyer in the Province of Ontario at about 10:28 this morning.

Emotions: mixed (one part "awesome," two parts "I basically already was, c'mon"). However, I put in an order after the ceremony for custom-tailored wool litigation robes, which only lawyers are allowed to wear at court, and about those I feel 100% positive and excited. So, on the whole, I'll take it.


ETA: omg awwwww. )

ETA 2: ALSO! Just remembered. I had to swear allegiance to the Queen, AGAIN. That's twice, Canada. I'm keeping track. #stupid #notourqueen #revolutiontime #iwillhappilysweartotheflag #orthenation #orbeaver #imeanbeavers
littlemousling: Photo of Kalinda, character from The Good Wife, in front of books of statutes (law)
I really hated law school. Like, a lot. I liked my life during law school, and I liked my clinic work, and my friends, and Toronto, and biking everywhere, but law school itself just absolutely blew. I mean, it sucked. The people were mostly assholes, almost everything we did was designed to train law professors rather than lawyers, and the stuff that was easy made me feel guilty (not smart) while the stuff that wasn't easy made me feel stupid (not challenged). For three years I organized my life around the concept of spending as little time in those two buildings as I could get away with.

So perhaps you will understand when I say I had some niggling concerns about The Law, as this thing I was planning to be in for the rest of my life.

I don't really have those anymore. At all. I had kind of a boring weekend--the kind of weekend that makes me go, "Oh, shit, I am a boring person, DO SOMETHING AWESOME ASAP" (knitting a Bohus is awesome, right? ... right? ::crickets::)--and I just kept thinking, Can it be Monday now? I get to go to court on Monday. I get to be in court all day on Monday. I don't know who the judge will be, that's exciting. Maybe it'll be one I like. Maybe it'll be someone new and I can try to impress them. Maybe it'll be one I don't like and I'll have to strategize to get the results I want.

And then Monday came and it was awesome and I drove home smiling, like I drive home smiling every Monday, and most Tuesdays, and some Thursdays--because those are my court days, and court makes me smile. I am *good* at court. I *win* at court. And I probably can't get hired back at this job because Dalton McGuinty thinks it sounds good to say you're not hiring any more government lawyers, but I am good at this and I am enthusiastic about this and I will get another job that will make me smile on my Monday commute.
littlemousling: Image of a pansy (flower) (pansy)
I was pretty blasé about the whole thing, wasn't a big deal, just a piece of paper, etc.

Until I actually got it. And then there was this instant of: "THEY CAN'T* TAKE THIS BACK."

And I do feel pretty fucking good about that, all things considered. Law school sucked, and I did it, and it's over, and now I get to be a lawyer.**

So. Mildly notable day.


*OK YES THEY PROBABLY CAN. BUT SHHHHHHHH.
**After taking the Solicitor's exam, passing both exams, getting my work permit, articling, paying my dues, etc. Still some semi-arbitrary hoops to jump through, as always. Adulthood, I've come to realize, resembles nothing so much as a series of variable-annoying hoops. At least the jogging between them is pretty fun.
littlemousling: Adam Lambert and a plant (plantbert)

My interpretation of the gif's meaning: "IT HAD TO BE DONE AND I FUCKING DID IT. NOW I AM GOING TO GO DRINK, DANCE, AND GET LAID."

This gif represents: My feeling on checking my grades and discovering I haven't failed anything and will, in ten days, be holding a law-school diploma in my hands.



So, um, here's a story: I have frequently been heard to mention that I have terrible, terrible romantic luck with people whose first initial is J. Seriously, I could list a half-dozen people, no problem, with whom everything that could go wrong, did. And a number of them--including the two worst offenders--had the last initial D. I basically, despite being superstitious about very little else*, harbour a belief that those initials spell out my, you know, humiliation and failure.

You have probably put these pieces together, but it took me until like a month ago: those initials are the initials for the degree I'm about to get. Right. So there's some twisted Freudian shit I should really get looked at by a qualified professional.

BUT FOR TODAY THERE IS ONLY SQUEE. I mean, objectively I knew I hadn't failed anything--I actually did very well throughout law school--but objectivity rarely enters into one's primal fears of failure and shame. SO: SQUEE!


*OK, that is a blatant lie and I apologize. ;)
littlemousling: Reads "Anassa kata kalo kale, ia ia ia Nike" (Bryn Mawr)
So, after 20 consecutive years, I am no longer a student. I don't officially graduate until June, but my work is completed and submitted, and I'm not concerned about failing to pass anything. I'm done.

I'm done.

Maybe that'll start to sink in at some point. In the meantime, I'm listening to David Cook on repeat. His next album cannot come soon enough.
littlemousling: Image of the word "frak" (from Battlestar Galactica) (frak)
I have two papers due by 10am Tuesday. Without them I won't graduate. Until this evening I was a little nervous that my failure to finish them was some kind of last-minute self-destructive urge (since as a lesbian the more extreme method of getting knocked up at the worst possible time is closed off to me).

But I think I'm holding that urge off, at least; I wrote the 20-page paper today (61 footnotes, joy), and tomorrow I only need to write 15 pages, with opinion strongly encouraged, on a topic I wrote 7 pages on a while back. So, basically, unless I sleep through tomorrow, I will graduate from law school.

Oh shit, now I'm nervous about sleeping through tomorrow.

OK, wiping off my shoulders, it's going to be fine.

Cut for furniture purchases and TMI )
littlemousling: Street sign from Toronto's gay village (Church and Wellesley)
L-from-the-internet, although I would freaking love to actually be friends with Y-from-the-internet, as her friends are super-super fun.

Cut for love life deets )

Cut for discussion of clothing and weight loss )

Gaaah

Apr. 13th, 2010 07:43 pm
littlemousling: Flyer of a spinning wheel with the phrase "spinning yarns" above it (spinning)
Lessons in keeping your apartment picked up at all times, part 978703875.

I actually am pretty neat; I like clean surfaces. But during exam time? No way. It gets pretty sty-like, for a given value of "sty" (dishes in the sink, clothes on the floor, knitting everywhere, but no rotting food or trash or whatever lying about).

So, of course, my landlady and her husband need to come in and see something.

I asked for 10 minutes to pick up and frantically attacked the primary areas. Turns out, though, they needed to see the other half of the apartment, which had not gotten an editing eye cast over them.

Definitely seen: laundry on floor of closet (yup, had to open the closet. Shoot me now), including, naturally, underwear.

Probably seen: sex toys in box poking well out from under bed.

Thank goodness I like them, because ugh.
littlemousling: List of gay agenda items: spend time with family, be treated equally, buy milk (Gay agenda)
Sometimes you just get a jolt.

I was so not prepared to be reminded that people hate me and think I'm an inferior parent or a pedophile because I'm gay. )

It's a mark of my privilege--race, class, location, profession--that I can be brought up short by what's hardly the worst reminder of homophobia out there. But you know what? It still really fucking sucks.

It really fucking sucks that every other student just got on with class, and I sat there for two hours thinking about how many people would try to take a kid away from me, or try to prevent me from having one in the first place, or not let me around their kids.

And it really fucking sucks that none of them said a single fucking word to support me when I was shocked and fumbling.
littlemousling: Yarn with a Canadian dime for scale (Default)
Got my first solo apartment

Got my first “real” all-mine pet

Worked full time in family law for three months (and survived)

Represented clients of my clinic at about a dozen case conferences and motions, and another at a mediation for the Ontario Human Rights Commission

Landed an articling (legal apprenticeship) job that’s in my field, pays well, is a nice government position, and is in Toronto

Went to the first ever Sock Summit, held in Portland, Oregon

Also went to my first Rhinebeck Sheep and Wool Festival, and bought rather a lot of fiber

Biked, at a guess, more than 120 hours despite Toronto’s loooong and not-bike-safe winter

Learned to bake bread

Knit three sweaters (one handspun), five pairs of socks (two handspun), and various accessories including a couple of scarves (low total because I was busy spinning)

Spun 12727 yards of yarn, made up of some 36192 yards of singles. (Comparison: last year I spun 1728 yards total. That’s not even a seventh as much as this year)

And … probably other things?
littlemousling: Yarn with a Canadian dime for scale (Default)
It's true, my review lawyer* is a bit of a flake. It's true, she's not as detail-oriented as one might want in someone who's checking your work before it goes to court. It's true, she has a bad habit of skimming over anything that's not an all-caps [NAME], WHAT ABOUT THIS HERE?

But after I talk to her, I feel better prepared, calmer, and more able to represent my clients to the best of my ability. And that's why she's perfect for this job. Because it's not about her; it's about what she can bring out in us.



*the actual lawyer who makes sure we law students don't screw anything up too badly while representing clients at my legal clinic.



littlemousling: Yarn with a Canadian dime for scale (Default)
Spindling continues to be yay, and I get to go back to school Tuesday (FINALLY. Long summer!) and take a bunch of classes I chose (instead of them choosing for me), including "Rewriting Equality" about the Women's Court of Canada and "Accessible Justice: The Case of Disability Rights." Law school is yay.
littlemousling: Yarn with a Canadian dime for scale (Default)
So Tina (she's the one in the green vest in the middle of the photo) and I were at the mall, buying slutty clothing (what? I don't own any!).

We went, towards the end of the trip, to Aritzia, which is some weird Canadian Pacsun kind of store, where the only apparent requirement for employees is that they be a size 2 or smaller--no ability to do basic math or be nice to customers required.

And we are, of course, making fun of the clothes, because, really---well, see for yourself. Most notable was a whole range of short shorts, including ones that were fuzzy and came in candy colors. And they're really, really, really, really short. No, seriously. Like, 1/2" inseam.

Standing and waiting to check out (Tina bought a bunnyhug), we see an abandoned pile of them at the counter and giggle at the whole idea of fuzzy candy-colored short-short-shorts. Because REALLY.

The orange-"tanned" blonde cheerleader type in front of us steps up to a newly freed register. And the woman at the counter ... grabs the pile of clothes the horrible shorts are on. It seems the cheerleader is not only buying them, she's getting three pairs (pink, orange, and blue!) and a pair of nonfuzzy black ones for, I'm assuming, job interviews and court appearances. And some sheer tops (of course).

That's pretty much the hardest I've laughed since that time Laurel and I became actually hysterical at the end of Bruce Almighty.

Part 1 is here, no linear connection intended.
littlemousling: Yarn with a Canadian dime for scale (Default)
So Iman (she's the only one who doesn't look hilariously short in the photo) and I are at McDonald's and she orders a cheeseburger without cheese (believe it or not, cheeseburger=99¢, hamburger=$1.29 or something). I said, "I'm curious---is the cheeseburger haram or do you just not like the cheese?"

She says, "Well, it used to be haram, but they changed it. Now, it's just because I'm used to the taste."

And I'm thinking, wow, they changed it? Who has the authority to do that? Not any random Imam, I assume. So I ask.

"No, I mean McDonald's changed the cheese---it doesn't have pork proteins in it anymore."

Cue fit of giggles. She still cracks up when I mention McDonald's. And I had been seriously picturing, like, a caliph declaring cheeseburgers halal. I'm an idiot, but that was funny.
littlemousling: Yarn with a Canadian dime for scale (Default)
Viva la Bohus!


--Graduated from Bryn Mawr
--Started law school
--Moved to Toronto


--Skinny-dipped (and liked it)
--Wrote a 40-page thesis and became the world's leading expert on feminist themes in the modern English-language historical-setting Cassandra novel
--Printed approximately 3000 HSE e-mails (then stapled and hole-punched them) and was not immediately set upon by trees everywhere


--Knit 7 sweaters, including the one pictured above (and half each of two more; compare to last year's 1.5)
--Knit a mere 8 pairs of socks (compare to last year's 19)
--Knit a pair of slippers, a pair of mittens, two pairs of convertible mittens, two hats, a shawl, a scarf, ear warmers, a little bag, half a pair of long johns, and a lot of swatches
--Spun 2500 yards of three-ply CVM, plus some random other stuff


--Bonded with my cat, even though we don't live together anymore
--Commuted by bike for three months, then took off on account of snow
--Saw the King Tut show in Philadelphia, the Our Bodies exhibit in Rochester, and A Season of Canada in Toronto
--Spent two lovely weeks in a fabulous house on Lake Canandaigua
--Dated, futilely
--Read the last Harry Potter ever


--Made a couple dozen of new friends
--Grieved the loss of an existing one
--Hung on tight to the two best ones I've got

I GOT IN!

Dec. 20th, 2006 04:26 pm
littlemousling: Canadian flag (Canada)
I finished my finals work today - more than 60 pages all told.

But the done-is-goodness doesn't even register any more, because

I got into the University of Toronto Faculty of Law!

I got in, I got in, I got in! Goodbye Michigan, never mind, Cornell - I'm heading North!
This is )
THE BEST CHRISTMAS PRESENT EVER.


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