with several of these....
be back soon with a lilly p. giveaway!! stay tuned....
ps - thank you, all of you, for all the sweet words of encouragement on here and on twitter! it means so much!
Wednesday, July 28
Tuesday, July 27
Monday, July 26
this is it
well people....the time has come. i'm off to face my fate. headed to louisville this afternoon. come hell or high water, by thursday this will be over (at least for a few months...see below)
fortunately i ordered this to wear
no, not really. but crap, maybe i should have! i could use all the luck i can get!
say a prayer for me...i need it. trust me.
see you on the flip side!
Saturday, July 24
a fortunate accident
I saw this on one of the wedding blogs I frequent and wanted to share with ya'll:
Captain Corelli’s Mandolin
Louis de Bernieres
Louis de Bernieres
Love is a temporary madness,
it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides.
And when it subsides you have to make a decision.
You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together
that it is inconceivable that you should ever part.
Because this is what love is.
Love is not breathlessness,
it is not excitement,
it is not the promulgation of eternal passion.
That is just being “in love” which any fool can do.
Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away,
and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.
Those that truly love, have roots that grow towards each other underground,
and when all the pretty blossom have fallen from their branches,
they find that they are one tree and not two.
it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides.
And when it subsides you have to make a decision.
You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together
that it is inconceivable that you should ever part.
Because this is what love is.
Love is not breathlessness,
it is not excitement,
it is not the promulgation of eternal passion.
That is just being “in love” which any fool can do.
Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away,
and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.
Those that truly love, have roots that grow towards each other underground,
and when all the pretty blossom have fallen from their branches,
they find that they are one tree and not two.
Thursday, July 22
Sunday, July 18
i could not have said it any better
My lovely twitter friend directed me to this post... "Thanks, But No Thanks" wrote this fantastic post yesterday ...you can see the original on her blog HERE. I had to repost because she captured EXACTLY how I am feeling... but let's be honest, knowing that everyone else feels this way STILL doesn't make me feel any better.
One night, I got a text from Miss Legally Fabulous that said something along the lines of, "Taylor Swift sings the songs of my heart"...haha. That is totally how I felt when I read this post...you know, except not about Taylor...
** edit - i was just informed that it was "taylor swift tells stories. our stories." **
One night, I got a text from Miss Legally Fabulous that said something along the lines of, "Taylor Swift sings the songs of my heart"...haha. That is totally how I felt when I read this post...you know, except not about Taylor...
** edit - i was just informed that it was "taylor swift tells stories. our stories." **
Please stop telling me I'm going to pass the Bar.
I am not a panicker. I never have been. I'm a major proponent of the Seriously Just Chill The Hell Out school of major life event prep, and I've been known on more than one occasion to tell 1Ls, OLs, and everyone else who will listen that they need to stop taking life quite so seriously. But right now? I'm panicking. Ten days till the bar exam, and every time I start to think about it, I feel like I may break out in hives.
I suspect this is the case for most of my fellow test-takers. Yes, we need to stop taking ourselves so seriously. But also? Even for the most chill among us, this is A Really Big Fucking Deal. $100,000 in loan debt and three years later, this is the test that will determine whether we actually get to be a lawyer. And no, 2Ls, I am sorry to inform you: that $100,000 that you'll be paying off till you're 50 did nothing to actually prepare you for this exam. So here, in this 2 1/2 month timeline, you must cram everything there is to know about this state's law into your head, and hope that most of it sticks come exam time. It's an extraordinary amount of pressure, akin to nothing else I have done in life.
To varying degrees of certainty, we all think we're going to fail. One good friend of mine called his mother this week, to tell her he thought maybe he should just give up now. Clearly, he wasn't going to pass, and it seemed like a waste to ruin the last few days of his summer working for something he wasn't going to get. Another friend has been waking up in a panic for nights on end, because she keeps having nightmares about the MBE.
If you've not studied for the bar exam, this may not make sense to you. It's just a test, after all. And that's true. If you don't pass, well, you'll take it again. Perhaps I'm an unreliable narrator, being in the thick of it myself (and having just had a hyperventilating panic attack because no. I do not have 45 minutes to make dinner. Must. Study. More.), but I have to reassure my readers who are not in the thick of it: these are not neurotic people. These are normally sane, sweet people, who have a great sense of humor about themselves. People who are B students not because they can't hack it, but because sometimes, it's sunny out, and going golfing seems like a better idea than Tax. We are not, generally speaking, panickers.
Still, to a (wo)man, we're all pretty sure we're going to fail.
When I say to you, "I am going to fail the bar," I don't mean it the way a nerdy college sophomore proclaims "omg! I am totally going to fail this chem exam." I don't mean that I might get a C, or I might not be the smartest kid in the room. I mean that, come November, I. Might. Fail. The. Bar. In fact, there's a 50% likelihood that I will. When I tell you that I think I am going to fail, I'm not saying it because I need affirmation that I won't. I'm not kidding. I'm not over-reacting. When I say that, I'm trying to warn you of what might come.
Darwin asked me a few days ago if I would check to see if some of my Least Favorites from law school had passed the bar. Surprisingly, I found myself answering in the negative. Let's make no mistake. I am a mean, spiteful person, who on more than one occasion has wished that members of my class got hit by a bus. I'm not nice. But this experience? It's so miserable, I don't even have the heart to wish it on someone else.
Here's the horrifying thing about bar results: they're spectacularly public. Unlike the LSAT, you can't hide out, and pretend that your score wasn't totally shameful, or that you aren't studying for the test, or that you didn't really care. You do care. Unless you live in a cave, everyone knows that you're studying for an exam, because you look haggard, miserable, and short tempered, and they never see you anymore. The list of bar passers is publicly posted. So, when the final results come out (in California, that's November: just in time to ruin both Thanksgiving and Christmas), and your name isn't on that very public list, everyone knows. In that one epic moment, it's awfully hard to get away from the nagging conviction that's been chasing you all summer: You're not as smart as you thought. You're not as smart as anyone thought. You're a failure.
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.
The non-lawyerly types won't check the bar passers list, of course. Probably. But they will ask, with gleeful anticipation, if you've gotten your results in. And they're happy to ask, because these well-meaning family members and friends really do believe that you will pass, and their faith in you will be vindicated. Here's the trouble with that, though: if you've been saying, over and over again "Oh don't be silly! You'll pass!", when I have to face facts with you that I, in fact, did not pass, I'm going to have to face that ominous and awkward silence, followed by your condolences. I will then have to have this conversation with every person who asks.
And here's the thing about that: there's no getting away from the fact that you failed the bar. You can't even claim that you just got desperately ill halfway through and couldn't finish, because Jan Honisberg has been telling us BarBri kids all summer about all the appendicitis-ridden, in labor, concussed bar-takers who have taken the exam and passed. This, ultimately means that not only are you a failure: you're less competent than a concussed person. Fantastic.
When I hear someone tell me, offhandedly, that oh, of course I'll pass the bar, it only increases my anxiety. I want to grab them and shake them, and explain that really, my terror is valid. I need you to understand that. If (or when) I fail, I need you to get that these things happen. I'm afraid that you're expecting too much of me, and that if I fail, your impression of me will be irreparably damaged. I don't want to fight with you about it. I really, truly, do believe that I am going to fail. If I don't, it will be by the skin of my teeth.
So, friends and family of the bar-takers: I extend my condolences to you. I know we are just miserable to be around right now. But we do need you. Not to tell us that we will pass, but to tell us that you (as Darwin so eloquently put it) have faith in us. Even if you're certain that we're out of our minds, you won't change them---to me, the specter of failing is just as real, and just as terrifying, as a child who's been left at a grocery store, convinced he's alone for good. No, your parents haven't left you forever, and no, you may be right. We may pass. But in this moment, we feel alone, and overwhelmed, and totally terrified. The bar exam is in 10 days. We don't need assurances that we'll pass, we need your help to mitigate the crazy. We're looking for damage control. Tell us you understand how we're feeling, and you think we're smart. Give us a hug.
When BarBri has robbed us of our confidence and left us as pathetic messes on the floor, tell us you believe in us. Buy us a popsicle.
And hopefully, when it's all over, you can tell us that you always knew we could do it. And if you can't? Well, we'll cross that bridge when we get there.
I suspect this is the case for most of my fellow test-takers. Yes, we need to stop taking ourselves so seriously. But also? Even for the most chill among us, this is A Really Big Fucking Deal. $100,000 in loan debt and three years later, this is the test that will determine whether we actually get to be a lawyer. And no, 2Ls, I am sorry to inform you: that $100,000 that you'll be paying off till you're 50 did nothing to actually prepare you for this exam. So here, in this 2 1/2 month timeline, you must cram everything there is to know about this state's law into your head, and hope that most of it sticks come exam time. It's an extraordinary amount of pressure, akin to nothing else I have done in life.
To varying degrees of certainty, we all think we're going to fail. One good friend of mine called his mother this week, to tell her he thought maybe he should just give up now. Clearly, he wasn't going to pass, and it seemed like a waste to ruin the last few days of his summer working for something he wasn't going to get. Another friend has been waking up in a panic for nights on end, because she keeps having nightmares about the MBE.
If you've not studied for the bar exam, this may not make sense to you. It's just a test, after all. And that's true. If you don't pass, well, you'll take it again. Perhaps I'm an unreliable narrator, being in the thick of it myself (and having just had a hyperventilating panic attack because no. I do not have 45 minutes to make dinner. Must. Study. More.), but I have to reassure my readers who are not in the thick of it: these are not neurotic people. These are normally sane, sweet people, who have a great sense of humor about themselves. People who are B students not because they can't hack it, but because sometimes, it's sunny out, and going golfing seems like a better idea than Tax. We are not, generally speaking, panickers.
Still, to a (wo)man, we're all pretty sure we're going to fail.
When I say to you, "I am going to fail the bar," I don't mean it the way a nerdy college sophomore proclaims "omg! I am totally going to fail this chem exam." I don't mean that I might get a C, or I might not be the smartest kid in the room. I mean that, come November, I. Might. Fail. The. Bar. In fact, there's a 50% likelihood that I will. When I tell you that I think I am going to fail, I'm not saying it because I need affirmation that I won't. I'm not kidding. I'm not over-reacting. When I say that, I'm trying to warn you of what might come.
Darwin asked me a few days ago if I would check to see if some of my Least Favorites from law school had passed the bar. Surprisingly, I found myself answering in the negative. Let's make no mistake. I am a mean, spiteful person, who on more than one occasion has wished that members of my class got hit by a bus. I'm not nice. But this experience? It's so miserable, I don't even have the heart to wish it on someone else.
Here's the horrifying thing about bar results: they're spectacularly public. Unlike the LSAT, you can't hide out, and pretend that your score wasn't totally shameful, or that you aren't studying for the test, or that you didn't really care. You do care. Unless you live in a cave, everyone knows that you're studying for an exam, because you look haggard, miserable, and short tempered, and they never see you anymore. The list of bar passers is publicly posted. So, when the final results come out (in California, that's November: just in time to ruin both Thanksgiving and Christmas), and your name isn't on that very public list, everyone knows. In that one epic moment, it's awfully hard to get away from the nagging conviction that's been chasing you all summer: You're not as smart as you thought. You're not as smart as anyone thought. You're a failure.
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.
The non-lawyerly types won't check the bar passers list, of course. Probably. But they will ask, with gleeful anticipation, if you've gotten your results in. And they're happy to ask, because these well-meaning family members and friends really do believe that you will pass, and their faith in you will be vindicated. Here's the trouble with that, though: if you've been saying, over and over again "Oh don't be silly! You'll pass!", when I have to face facts with you that I, in fact, did not pass, I'm going to have to face that ominous and awkward silence, followed by your condolences. I will then have to have this conversation with every person who asks.
And here's the thing about that: there's no getting away from the fact that you failed the bar. You can't even claim that you just got desperately ill halfway through and couldn't finish, because Jan Honisberg has been telling us BarBri kids all summer about all the appendicitis-ridden, in labor, concussed bar-takers who have taken the exam and passed. This, ultimately means that not only are you a failure: you're less competent than a concussed person. Fantastic.
When I hear someone tell me, offhandedly, that oh, of course I'll pass the bar, it only increases my anxiety. I want to grab them and shake them, and explain that really, my terror is valid. I need you to understand that. If (or when) I fail, I need you to get that these things happen. I'm afraid that you're expecting too much of me, and that if I fail, your impression of me will be irreparably damaged. I don't want to fight with you about it. I really, truly, do believe that I am going to fail. If I don't, it will be by the skin of my teeth.
So, friends and family of the bar-takers: I extend my condolences to you. I know we are just miserable to be around right now. But we do need you. Not to tell us that we will pass, but to tell us that you (as Darwin so eloquently put it) have faith in us. Even if you're certain that we're out of our minds, you won't change them---to me, the specter of failing is just as real, and just as terrifying, as a child who's been left at a grocery store, convinced he's alone for good. No, your parents haven't left you forever, and no, you may be right. We may pass. But in this moment, we feel alone, and overwhelmed, and totally terrified. The bar exam is in 10 days. We don't need assurances that we'll pass, we need your help to mitigate the crazy. We're looking for damage control. Tell us you understand how we're feeling, and you think we're smart. Give us a hug.
When BarBri has robbed us of our confidence and left us as pathetic messes on the floor, tell us you believe in us. Buy us a popsicle.
And hopefully, when it's all over, you can tell us that you always knew we could do it. And if you can't? Well, we'll cross that bridge when we get there.
Thursday, July 15
3rd birthday
Logan's 3rd birthday was Tuesday....we had a small family party. Much to my dismay, this daunting bar studying has left me little time to be crafty....I did, however, manage to whip him up a choo choo train shirt and painted him this little toy train. That was about it :( and he didn't even want to wear the shirt...
& for your entertainment here is a short video of the birthday boy himself. He is wearing only boxer briefs bc he was having too much fun to tell anyone he needed to go inside to potty! (ignore my annoying voice!)
Tuesday, July 13
Monday, July 12
ULTA
If you follow me on twitter you know that last weekend ALL my makeup got stolen out of Ben's truck. who steals makeup?! sick!! i hope they break out in cystic acne...bahahaha.
anywho... seeing as how i am at this darn computer ALL day and prefer to do my shopping online, i ordered all new makeup form SEPHORA and ULTA. btw, buying foundation online is, as you might expect, not a good idea. fail.
i had never purchased any ULTA brand makeup before but was pleasantly surprised when my stuff arrived in the mail! the ULTA brand eyeshadow is ok...but of course not as much pigment as MAC eyeshadows. However, the Automatic Eye Liner is GREAT! goes on really smooth and even... And now we come to the reason for this post...the Automatic Eye Liner is on sale for a dollar. Yea, a dollar. Can't beat that! plus free shipping on orders $25 or more and a coupon for $3.50 off a $10 purchase. i suggest ya'll head over there and stock up on some necessities! (and no, ULTA isn't paying me! haha)
Sunday, July 11
do you know?
do any of you happen to know what the name of the floral fabric on these pillows is? who it is by? i'm obsessed!
** edit ** finally found where i got the pic from! yay! & the pillows are from Plum Cushion on Esty
Friday, July 9
logan's 3rd birthday
If you all follow my blog you know that I'm obsessed with my nephew, Logan. He is turning 3 Tuesday! I can't believe he is already 3....He is sooooo smart and I wanted to get him a birthday gift that will encourage him to use his imagination. So I'm getting him this easel from CSN.com. I've ordered from there before, and you can order anything from one of their stores....from a bathroom sink to, well, pretty much anything you can think of! Their All Modern site its really cute, I may have to order some throw pillows from there eventually!
This will be a good gift for a 3 year old right?!
Thursday, July 8
don't like to workout?
well then i suggest you go to law school, graduate, and then study for the bar. because when it comes down to all that you will allow yourself to do is study and workout...you will ALWAYS want to workout. believe it.
Tuesday, July 6
holiday weekend recap
i had a fabulous holiday weekend!! here is a recap w/ pictures... lots of food, animals and friends...
Saturday morning we got up bright and early to be at party to watch the Bluegrass 10,00 by 7am
enjoyed some good food and a beautiful old house...
played with some super cute puppies...
watched my runner get 80th place out of 3,000+ racers...
then he joined us for some mimosas....
after that we headed downtown for the festivities...kinda redneck, but fun....
played with some more cute puppies and watched the parade...
later went to family cookout and met up with friends to head downtown to watch fireworks...
from the roof of brittany's office building....unfortunately they were pretty much blocked by another building...
sunday, the 4th, we lounged at the pool with friends...
i played with this adorable baby...(no i'm not going gray, but maybe bald...)
and some pretty horses....
then went to another cookout with friends....
it was a great weekend! monday i went to the pool with brittany again and tried to get a little studying done while there. so sad the weekend is over, i'm back at the library hitting the books...
hope ya'll had wonderful holiday weekends too!
Sunday, July 4
Thursday, July 1
lovely party ideas
I'm in LOVE with this patriotic party I found over at Southern Living...so freaking cute!...
