Here’s what’s coming up in the next few weeks/a quick recap of what I’ve been up to since (barely) surviving my first year of law school. The survival of this semester is a topic for another post I suppose, but suffice it for now to say that I made it through finals without (m)any extreme breakdowns.
The 12-hour drive home was exciting as always, especially because my parents have moved yet again since I was home last. Nothing like rolling into town with NO IDEA where you’re headed. But this move was a good thing. Not that the 2 months they spent in their “mountain chalet” (aka apartment with a wooded view) wasn’t extremely fun over Christmas. The new house is beautiful-I wish I had taken pictures, but I’ll do it later in the summer. Its layout upstairs is similar to our old house, but everything is bigger and nicer. Potential for 6 total bedrooms once two of the basement rooms are finished (3 upstairs, 1 downstairs right now), and a den downstairs. The extra potential bedrooms are currently a storage room and a gym, respectively. Screened in porch and a deck, etc. etc. etc. I could go on, but I won’t. For those of you who know how much I LOVED the other house, you should also be excited about this new house. Mike spent a good 15 minutes showing off the new 3D TV, which kiiiiinda freaked me out. I won’t lie. But hey, it’s their house. For those of you wondering, the SONY TV we’ve had since I was 5 still hasn’t been retired, because why not? And of course the fake ivy & plants haven’t gone anywhere either (thank goodness. Those are key components of any good decorating scheme.) Mom says this is pretty much the house for the grandkids, so I should probably get on that in the next 10-15 years.
Another stop on the itinerary was Hoover High School, home of the Buccaneers. Mom’s best teacher friend was having her retirement party, and what better opportunity to see as many of my old teachers as possible in one fell swoop? The realization that I MAY be becoming my French teacher (she spent 10 minutes looking for her keys, and found them under a magazine on her desk) frightened me. Fielded the “How is law school?!?!”/”What are you doing this summer?!”/”You look JUST THE SAME!” litany for a little bit, got the once over by a bratty high schooler, and escaped before the majority of students- who look so small, by the way-could do the same. High school was a terrible time, and I would never want to go back 10 years to 9th grade. Speaking of which, WHAT. 10 years?
Two days in Birmingham was plenty, so I headed down to Auburn for a haircut (yes, I do still go to my hair lady in Auburn. Which is why things had gotten out of control. Gotta fix that for 2L), and then I took State Route 14 to Slapout, Alabama for a wedding shower for my friend Kendall. Cue “Take a Backroad.” We’ve been friends since freshman year at Auburn and endured years of ELF, Camp War Eagle, SGA campaigns, and other general ridiculous activities together. One of the more notable was our road trip to Tampa for 5 days in two houses with 25 CWE Counselors (and Pledge Will). Anyway, I’m a bridesmaid in her wedding, so the next few weeks will be spent doing Bachelorette things & Bridal Teas & other fun wedding activities. Plus, we TOTALLY get to go shopping together in Montgomery, which is every Elmore County girl’s dream.
After dinner with the Mercers, the Christakoses (sp?) and another bridesmaid, I headed to Montgomery to find the loft apartment I’m subleasing for the summer. Then proceeded to drive in circles around 3 blocks of downtown Montgomery (which is like, 7x7 blocks) for 45 minutes. In the meantime, the world-renowned AAA Montgomery Biscuits’ baseball game concluded in a shower of fireworks (or was that Montgomery welcoming me?), and a flood of fans going to their cars. After wandering aimlessly, I stopped, asked a Police officer where this building was, he gave me directions, and I got lost again until I decided the best way to find the hidden gate was to approach it on foot with my walking Google maps setting, then backtrace with my car. Mind you, it’s 10:30PM and I am 6 blocks from the ‘hood. But there were probably 50 cops in the vicinity, so it’s whatever. Then my iPhone died. Fortunately, the city has WiFi, and I located the building from my laptop in my car while simultaneously charging my phone. I’ve gotta get a car charger.
The loft is AMAZING and super clean/efficient. There are no extraneous objects, except for the orchid, which I have to feed one cube of ice every other day. It is also a 3 minute walk from my firm. I’m a little bit inspired to perhaps streamline my own life based on this place. Probably won’t happen, but a girl can dream, right? Now I’m sitting in a Starbucks on Zelda Road (with intersecting Avenues of F Scott, Gatsby, and Fitzgerald, and that’s just what I’ve seen so far). A middle school kid in a blazer (presumably from church), apologized for almost walking into a building I was walking out of, stopped, held the door open for me, and then walked in after me. Texas is certainly no stranger to Southern Hospitality/”gentility”, but it seems likely that Montgomery is going to take it to levels even Birmingham can’t touch.
Oh, and Carolyn & I have chatted via multiple forms of communication at least 2x/day since I left Texas, so that’s par for the course I guess.
Now, for a quick rundown of a very busy next few weeks:
Memorial Day Weekend- Beach trip with Katie, her old roommate Michael, and Spencer (who I have been friends with since we went to Europe a couple of times in high school, and who Katie got to know when they were neighbors in Auburn). This might be the most ridiculously hilarious weekend in a long time. So bring on the Florabama.
Kendall’s Bachelorette Party- Also a beach weekend! Florabama Round 2? Absolutely. This time with airbrushed tank tops and 10 girls.
Kendall’s Wedding- Never a dull moment in Slapout. And with this wedding party.
Houston- Can’t stay away from Texas for too long! This is turning into quite the weekend what with Tom planning fun TJOGEL things and Sam considering doing the “Can I live in Houston? Weekend”…so can’t wait for that one either.
Atlanta- Not sure when, but it’s definitely happening. Mags D has a city to show off, and I hear the Braves are pretty good this year. Plus it’s been awhile since I’ve had an excuse to play “Welcome to Atlanta.”
Auburn/Skybar- What would summer be without watching the CC’s between CWE sessions and hanging out at the best establishment in the Auburn-Opelika Metro Area? No summer at all, that’s what. Attempts to climb on top of Cater Hall or going to the top of the Haley Center probably will not occur, since we can’t hide out in the Quad dorms to avoid arrest afterwards.
….Work. Oh yeah, employment. That’s happening too. Actually really excited about this! Hopefully I don’t decide the prospect of lawyering is unpalatable. That would be an expensive life about-face.
So April has been dubbed “Awful April” as a parallel to No Fun November (but not to be confused with No Shame November, or NSN- during which time Carolyn & I could be completely ridiculous Re: anything in life; shout, whine, opine, you name it…it was acceptable.). It’s finals time, generally speaking, and this means 1Ls everywhere are going on lockdown and grasping at the last vestiges of the “fun” part of the semester.
The second semester has been so markedly different from the first semester with respect to the “fun” part. For some reason, the fun seems to have ended earlier than last year. At UT, Ex Parte marks the beginning of the end of fun for the semester. It’s the Halloween party. As soon as that weekend is over, it’s November, and we start the slow spiral into insanity, lack of personal hygiene, and mass hysteria.
This semester, lockdown effectively began immediately after Spring Break, which is mid-March. Granted, it wasn’t quite as extreme as the post-Ex Parte shift. But with all the 1Ls writing on the same brief prompt and all due within 24 hours of each other, hysteria set in earlier than last fall. I’m not going to pretend I haven’t already pulled a couple of 16 hour days in the library. Unsure why the time has flown so differently, but it definitely has.
So now I’m sitting in the library working on my Torts outline, and hating life. And it reminded me of the game we used to play at Camp War Eagle debriefing sessions entitled “Things I’d Rather Be Doing.” Napping on hot coals. Shopping for Tyra in the Petites section of Ann Taylor Loft. Walking the Road to Perdition. Cleaning shower tiles with a toothbrush. And so on. Naturally, I’d rather be blogging than outlining. Which obviously means I need to pull an awesome story out of my hat to make everything better. It’s time for Legal Trivia Night.
To raise money for something, some organization at the law school hosts a legal trivia game before Bar Review. This is early in the semester. Probably the first or second week back. So Carolyn & I decide we’re going to make Mike go with us, because let’s be honest—we pretty much just run in circles around him and make him do things he doesn’t want didn’t know he wanted to do. But he was a willing party and even offered to drive. So we met at his and Liam’s apartment.
It was at this time that I realized I forgot to put on a belt with my outfit. The belt was actually indispensable to the outfit, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to go home. There just wasn’t time. I was probably already late anyway, and Trivia only lasts so long. I asked Tara if she happened to have a belt there, and she said “no.” Don’t worry—Liam came to the rescue. He apparently ordered a brown leather belt one size too small that happened to be kinda girly unisex, and had forgotten to return to LL Bean. (Please feel free to judge him at your leisure for voluntarily shopping at LL Bean). Sorry, Liam! Everyone gets a hard time on here. Just means I love you.
Anyway, I try on the belt. And it fits. And is actually cute. So, yes, I wore Liam’s belt to Bar Review. True life. Kinda felt weird about it at first…I mean, who wears a guy’s belt? But let’s get real. Who cares. Then I owned it. So Carolyn, Mike, and I head downtown. Park in what is apparently Shawn’s “secret” 6th Street parking spot (though I couldn’t remember where it was if I tried), and headed inside.
We quickly assembled what had the potential to be The Most Magnificent Legal Trivia Team of All Time. Brad, Andrew, Carolyn, me, Mike, and I want to say Sam and Michelle, a girl in my section. (Brad, Andrew, and Sam are my three favorite Jews of 2C) Anyway, among us we had enough pop culture, weird Supreme Court Justice, and random Constitutional Amendment knowledge to totally dominate. The only team better than us in the first two rounds was the Law Review team, and they live and breathe the law anyway. We were heating up. Things were looking good. Rounds 1-4 were ours for the taking.
And then….we forgot to list the names of the shows accompanying the names of the characters of TV Lawyers. We quickly plummeted to the bottom of the group, and lost our chance to win an entire batch of Cake Pops. The devastation was palpable. We could quite literally have tasted victory, but alas, our lack of attention to one detail completely railroaded our efforts. A valuable career lesson to learn, I imagine.
Side note: We had a rapping professor as the Emcee for the event. He was at least 65. Welcome to UT Law.
The boys took the topple from the top especially hard. I mean, Brad had those old-school legal movies catalogued in his brain, and Mike can ID any SCOTUS Justice on sight. Taney? Yeah, I TOTALLY know what he looks like. Carolyn was also excellent with the movies and TV shows. But then again, she’s too busy reading PerezHilton and TMZ to Tweet, so she’s clearly a sponge for useful information. We were so close. Almost-but-not-quite. A sad ending for Show Us Your Ohio Faces (not my title idea.) Another trivia team bites the dust.
The rest of the evening was relatively uneventful, except for leaving Carolyn to her own devices at the end of the night. Oh, and fending off some sketchy dudes who used pickup lines like “I know enough” in response to “No, I will not go home with you. You don’t know me!” accompanied by inappropriate touching.(Of course “not knowing me” was not the only reason I wouldn’t go home with this person). I was touched…and concerned. After we left, I’m pretty sure Whataburger happened. Who doesn’t love a Honey Butter Chicken Biscuit before going to sleep?
And there you have it. A wonderful little encapsulation of the early part of the semester in one evening: Legal things, sketchy times, and Honey Butter Chicken Biscuits. What more could you ask for?
Ironically, I am using this blog post to “think of that [brief] tomorrow.” A favorite Scarlett-ism. Hahah. But seriously, back to the brief. Actually, just to give you all a breakdown of life these days, here’s an average one (as of late):
Set alarm for 6:45-7:00.
Oversleep. Wake up at 8:08.
Rush through morning routine (thank God I made the coffee last night.)
Still leave late.
Hit weird traffic.
Sprint to Crim Law, and arrive just after professor starts talking.
Realize book is in locker.
Gchat while trying REALLY hard to pay attention to the crime under discussion.
Get distracted by ThoughtCatalog. Or RCP. Or my own thoughts.
Waste two hours in the SBA office (Alternatively, actually get reading done.)
Torts Time.
Con Law (aka “Everyone share their opinions with 90 people who don’t care because it doesn’t really matter. None of us will be on SCOTUS anyway.”)
Debate: Nap or Library.
Choose library.
Read for 2 hours.
Nap IN library.
Try to research brief. End up in British Chancery Court. Should be in Oregon.
Give up. Drive home.
Get stuck in more weird traffic (it’s 8PM, Austin! What’s up?!)
Eat awkward dinner because HEB didn’t happen over the weekend.
Nap. Again. (8:30PM)
Spend 30 minutes on Facebook. Try to rally.
Go back to library until midnight, doing more fruitless research.
Feel guilty that outlines haven’t happened/that reading is getting in the way of briefing.
Drive home. Encounter MORE weird traffic. Midnight rush hour-who knew?
Sleep. Forget to plug in phone (but not to brush my teeth).
Repeat. (Some days are more productive than others, but that’s generally what happens in some form).
Happy Tuesday, everyone! And happy briefing to those of you in law school :)
The previous post is a quotation from one of my favorite books of all time, Gone With the Wind. I’m not sure if I ever fully recapped that one on the blog, but let me tell you-it’s a good one. It did win a Putlitzer prize, after all. Anyway, the passage comes from one point in the story at which Scarlett realizes she can’t have Ashley Wilkes (sorry for the spoiler, everyone. It’s early in the book. Can’t tell you the finale). Scarlett might literally be the most selfish person to ever live. And yet we (or I) can’t help but kind of root for her because she’s also so strong and compelling.
That said, I feel like this just applies in general, not just to heartbreak. Which is why I posted it. Full disclosure to anyone out there reading: LAW SCHOOL IS MISERABLE. Seriously. It is absolutely terrible. And yet the world goes on. I sometimes, like Scarlett, find myself marveling at the rest of the world and how happy some people seem to be! Okay, that’s slightly dramatic. I don’t hate law school all the time. In fact, I also LOVE law school. Dark and twisty, I am. I’m more and more convinced that “high-achieving” people are more screwed up than the average person, or are at least more advanced cases of it…and that their high-achievingness might actually be a byproduct of the screwed-upness. Maybe I’m crazy. Haha
But either way, the world goes on around us, no matter how ridiculously miserable we might happen to be about whatever it is we’re feeling miserable about at the moment. Even if we feel like our own worlds are collapsing, no one else really cares all that much, because they, like Scarlett, are probably having their own personal universe crisis. They don’t care much that you can’t find a good case line for your brief or that you aren’t getting paid as much as someone else (“at least you’re getting paid!” some would said), or that your dog chewed up your couch, or your girlfriend cheated on you, or your disposal doesn’t work, or there’s a stupid car sitting in the righthand lane that knew you needed to turn right- because they overslept an interview, forgot to pay their credit card bill, their grandma just died, they left their lunch at home, they just found out their roommate uses the apartment as a red light district on weekends, etc. etc. etc.
So we’re all Scarlett, and not just in heartbreak. I know I am. I sit there and think, “WHY doesn’t everyone care about MY problems? Don’t you people see how hard X, Y, and Z are to handle, and AT THE SAME TIME no less?” Even though I love my girl Scarlett, she has absolutely no perspective. These things happen.
I should be working, or at least cleaning, but I have been trying to figure out how to put this semester into a blog post or three without saying either too much or too little. Still unsure how to make that happen, because it’s been quite the ride. Basically, to quote Morgan on approximately January 22:
“Anna Lee, I feel like your life is going to get really interesting in the next few weeks. I’m not saying good or bad. Just….interesting. It’s about to do that thing your life does when you least expect it and get crazy weird, while also being completely normal.”
As always, the BFF is right on target. Geeeeeez. I can’t even have normal car accidents! Which should probably be the subject of a post, as a matter of fact. So, when I figure out what life highlights the world gets (one of which will most def be “The 1L Rager,” aka the 3Awesomest Birthday Party Ever for Jordan and me, brought to you in part by Elmwood 508 aka Mike and Liam), the blog will be the first to get the update. Obviously. Well, I might call CNN, but they’ll probably be too busy covering the circus Republican Primaries to care too much about my second semester of law school. Their loss. Might also have to include a segment on The Bachelor, as that was an integral part of the first half of the semester. Weekly Bachelor/laundry/gossip viewings with Carolyn, Sam, and Hannah were pretty amazing. Lots of life lived between the episodes.
In other news, Game Night is coming back this week, so crazy stories are sure to follow. Nothing says awesome like law students spending their Friday nights playing Taboo, Apples to Apples, and drinking wine. On that note, I’m headed into lockdown mode for the foreseeable future. Should be an excellent time as well.
You know those times when you leave a church service irritated because “it was too long” or “the speaker was terrible” or “it was hot” or “they didn’t play any songs I knew” or any other number of “problems” that really translate to “I’m feeling convicted and don’t want to admit it?” Yup. That happened to me recently.
He will destroy your idols.
This was what the pastor at Austin Stone announced a few weeks ago. I am not sure why I didn’t believe him, because he’s definitely right. It’s not even that I didn’t believe him. It’s more that I didn’t want it to be true. There is nothing wrong with my idol(s), I thought. In fact, I tried to talk myself into thinking that it wasn’t really an idol. What I was idolizing isn’t wrong or bad in itself, but when it replaces Him, it can never be right. “He will withhold what you really want, or he will give it to you and you will realize it doesn’t really satisfy you,” the pastor said. “He will bring you to your knees.” Did I really think I was going to be immune? I didn’t, but I told myself I would be.
And yet, there He went. Destroying my idols. Bringing me face-to-face with messes I can’t clean up on my own. The realization that I have to let go of the intense desire to control my own life and trust that He won’t lead me somewhere I shouldn’t be is leaving me in what feels like a million pieces. He won’t put something in my heart that He doesn’t intend to fulfill. But I can’t fulfill it by myself or by my efforts only. And He’s proven over and over and over that He is faithful. So why do I keep pushing back?
“I know, O Lord, that a man’s life is not his own; it is not for a man to direct his steps.” Jeremiah 10:23
So, yeah. We’ll see how this goes.
(Disclaimer #1: The blog format automatically removes spacing/paragraph indentations. Unsure as to why. Sorry in advance. It’s obnoxious.)
(Disclaimer #2: This post is REALLY long.)
Putting on hold the semester yet again, let’s fast forward beyond No Fun November and finals to the much-anticipated hunting trip. The trip originated because Carolyn & I whined to Mike that we had never been hunting and we really, really wanted to go. Oh! That reminds me. I should probably introduce Mike, since he hasn’t been previously mentioned.
Mike is in SBA with Carolyn and me. He seems like a pretty serious dude, until you get to know him. And then he’s still a pretty serious dude. But not really. Carolyn forced friendship upon him first (Read: spilled coffee/water/entire lunches on him in class and screamed like a little girl when she found bugs in her raisins). I guess we met in SBA, but our first major life bonding experience was at Ex Parte when he used his Clifford the Big Red Dog costume to coax all my life secrets out of me. Regardless, Mike is endlessly entertaining, but in a different way than the Bart & Ryan dynamic duo.
So. Mike offers to take the ladies hunting on his ranch in Junction, a town about an hour west of Fredericksburg. He quickly realized the error of his ways in inviting two blonde hunting novices and no one else, and since men can meet once and become potential hunting buddies/golf partners/whatever, Mike parlayed a casual conversation at Game Night into a hunting invitation to Ryan (which we extended to Bart as well). With the proper balance of hunting experts and uh…girls, the post-finals trip started to materialize.
Wednesday
We decided I would be in charge of dinner for one night, which probably was for the best, considering the endless supply of Chef Boyardee on hand at the ranch. That’s good eatin’ right there. So we struggled through finals, enjoyed our first night of freedom, and headed out west to shoot things.
Our “suggested” departure time was 1:00pm. If you know anything about Mike, it is that “suggested” means “this is what we’re doing,” and he is very prompt. Naturally, I picked Carolyn up at 1:02 and we rolled up to Mike’s house at approximately 1:12. His text response to me? “Nearly punctual.” I would have apologized, but I’m gonna be real honest—I didn’t care. Haha
We loaded the car and hit the road. Mike cleverly offered me cleaning solution for my “filthy laptop,” and then requested that I clean his sunglasses “while I was at it.” Sneaky. The first stop was HEB Fredericksburg, which is an adorable little town where upper middle class middle-aged white women go to shop and pretend like they’re in the country. Pardon the excessive adjective usage.
Anyway, the HEB stop provided lots of entertainment, as well as an opportunity for personal growth for Mike: He has a “no turning around” policy while driving, but the rumbling tummies and eminent starvation of the ladies were enough to convince him that 5 minutes of backtracking to Sonic would be acceptable, and arguably necessary, decision. Okay, so I’m giving Mike a really hard time…but don’t worry, everyone gets theirs on the blog, and I never heard the end of it from those guys all weekend, so I really don’t feel that bad.
Eventually we arrived in Junction and played the customary Ranch Arrival song (whatever that may be) as we approached the gate and the historic English-style ranch house. Let me just go on and fully disclose the fact that we were NOT roughing it. Unless you consider being three hours from the nearest J.Crew “roughing it.” Cell service was spotty, but who needs an iPhone when you have a shotgun?
Scared yet?
Bart and Ryan followed shortly thereafter and we got to work unloading the food and getting the house/property tour.
The ranch was soggy for apparently the first time in the history of Mike’s family’s ownership, and that caused a few problems for the camo-rigged hunting truck. We got stuck in the mud a few times, finally made it to a good pathway, trekked through the woods for Mike to show Ryan the prime duck-hunting creek, and loaded up the front bin of the truck with some corn feed for the deer. All in all an excellent experience. While Carolyn, Bart, & Ryan sat outside on the camo couch, I sat inside and played “Dirt Road Anthem” on repeat. Hey, someone had to do it.
On the agenda for the rest of the night was dinner and poker. One of those I am excellent at, and one of those I am not. Feel free to place your bets on which is which. Making dinner turned out to be an entertaining ordeal. First of all, not having your own cooking stuff/not knowing exactly where everything was located in the kitchen provided for some interesting improvisation (and frustration upon later discovering exactly what I needed in another drawer). Then when you have four other people who are realllllly curious as to what dinner will entail, they tend to hover while not actually contributing to the process.
Just kidding. I enlisted Ryan to deal with the can opener because lord knows I can’t do it. Left handed kids just struggle. Carolyn tried to help, but ended up with the crescent rolls assignment. I’m not sure what Mike was doing; probably practicing for when he retires to the ranch in approximately 28 years. And Bart had the camera. Which resulted in quite a few Glamour Shots of Ryan.
Thursday/Friday
Early in the morning, Mike issued the wakeup call and Carolyn and I donned our matching camo (recently purchased at the great Academy Sports & Outdoors), and headed out for three hours of good, old-fashioned huntin’. Apparently the ladies were not in the deer blind assignment conversation, because if we had been, I would have highly recommended that Carolyn & Bart be placed as far away from each other as possible. I was truly afraid Bart would let Carolyn jump out of the blind and chase after squirrels and raccoons, which is a favorite pastime of Carolyn’s. The two of them are too goofy to be left alone with guns in a small space. However, we were not consulted, and so Carolyn & Bart were in fact left to their own devices. Mike is a one-man hunting party, so that left Ryan and me spotting deer together from the comfort of a very well appointed blind. I mean, we had office chairs. I’m not sure that’s really an accurate picture of the typical hunting experience; however, I appreciated the four-star accommodations.
On the way to the blinds, the truck got stuck again, which prompted Bart & Ryan to run after sticks & pieces of wood to do something to the ruts so the truck would move. Carolyn & I stood by in our snuggies and watched. We were actually worthless. Unsure that offering to help would have been the best action at that point anyway. Actually, I am sure. We would have been worthless. The boys handled it, though. As we knew they could. And then we were off to the blinds.
The weather was decent, which helped with the sitting for an hour until the sun rose. If it had been cold, I would have been an unhappy camper. I struggled to stay conscious half the time, and Ryan worried about the difference in shooting a deer and a duck. We had a…false alarm…regarding a white rock that I could have SWORN was a deer in the grey haze of daybreak.
Finally, it was light enough to see, and a deer wandered into our line of sight soon thereafter. We switched seats & Ryan zeroed in on the deer using the scope on his rifle. He then got really upset that it was a buck, since we were really supposed to be shooting mostly does. Another deer showed up (buck #2), and we spent quite awhile debating whether to wait for a doe or make the kill. He decided to go for the kill. Apparently ladies’ night went a bit long and all the does were still sleeping. The bucks were having a morning bro fest…and it cost them their lives.
Thus began Ryan’s 30 minute internal struggle regarding the fear of shooting such a large animal. After losing several good shot opportunities, he fired and the deer dropped immediately. Head shot. Kill shot. Success. He then turned to me & said “you wanna try?”
So Ryan spends quite awhile giving me Rifle 101 and trying to teach me how to hold the gun, find the deer in the scope, lift the safety, and keep my finger off the trigger until the final moment. Did I mention I’m left-handed? Anyway, he didn’t die, which is a testament to his instructing abilities. But then again, he Taught for America so I’d hope he could teach someone not to shoot him. Soon, another deer came into view and Ryan told me to go for it. It took me a few minutes to get a good shot, but once I did, it was over for that deer.
I kept trying to listen to instructions while also preparing to put the headphones on/hold the trigger/release the safety….etc. Things got complicated, and Ryan ended up lifting the safety for me once I got the shot. And then I pulled the trigger. Hit the deer!! The kickback wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, but after you shoot, you’re definitely shaking for a good five minutes. Probably a combination of adrenaline, kickback, and fear. The deer ran away. We weren’t sure if it died. This led to a discussion of whether to track the deer or wait. We decided to track, and found it behind a tree. I killed it! But shot it in the gut. That was good times for the boys later when they cleaned it. Also, surprise! It wasn’t a doe like we thought. Definitely a spike (little buck with two tiny, spiky antlers).
Then we realized we locked ourselves out of the deer blind. TALM. So while we were waiting, we took pictures with our dead deer and waited for Mike to pick us up in the truck. We’d only heard one other shot, and therefore assumed Carol & Bart had failed in their mission.
The rest of the gang showed up to collect us, and we headed back to make breakfast and clean the deer. To our credit, Carolyn & I watched the entire gutting process of Ryan’s buck. It’s very surgical-yet-barbaric. And kind of fascinating. Then we went to make muffins. Which really means I made muffins and Carolyn watched. The oven was misbehaving, thus contributing to my cooking insecurities for the weekend. But they turned out to be delicious muffins, if ugly.
Apparently my deer gave the boys a bit more trouble than Ryan’s did, maybe due to the gut shot I employed? Either way, they seemed a little bit…disconcerted when they came back to the house for breakfast. Things had gotten, shall we say, messy. And dirty. I won’t elaborate further. Just know that they (and we) will never think of “pesto” in the same way ever again.
After breakfast, the boys set up targets at the shooting range and we got to play with shotguns and pistols. This was cause for great fear among the menfolk, because let’s just say I’m not known for being the most careful person ever. Mike says I’m in the “shooting phase” or something, meaning I just really enjoy shooting the gun at every possible opportunity. Somebody stop me. Carolyn proved to be an excellent shot, and Mike taught everyone how to do the Power Stance with the revolver.
Then it was off to Junction for lunch at the local café, Isaack’s. Mike and Ryan dropped off the deer at the processors while Bart chauffeured the ladies to the restaurant. We all ordered the chicken fried steak, which was an excellent decision. This place isn’t your typical hole-in-the-wall restaurant. It features not only a smoking section and a Class A salad bar, but also sizeable knife case with plenty of deadly weapons for sale. This is not a Fredericksburg yuppie establishment, folks. But them’s good people out in Junction. (And it’s true. We spend some time with Mike’s neighbors later in the evening, and they’re just plain awesome.) Shawn joined us for lunch.
Pause. Intro to Shawn. Shawn : Mike :: Carolyn : Anna Lee. They’re pretty much law school besties. In college, he was like, a shot putter or javelin thrower or both, so that’s legit. Shawn is also Mike’s right-hand ranch man. Together, they will probably eliminate half the doe population in the state of Texas by mid-February.
Upon our return to the ranch, the four guys set off to build a fire pit on a cliffside. I showered and changed into more camo. Carolyn was MIA when I went downstairs, and I didn’t realize the guys had gone off to do more manly things, so I spent five sad minutes in the kitchen lamenting being left out of the group. Then, from the corner of my eye, I spotted a foot peeking out from under a zebra snuggie in the living room. Found Carolyn. And joined the nap party in the living room. Gosh, that was a wonderful nap.
When the boys got back from building things, Mike sent Carolyn & Bart to a new blind so Bart could have another chance to shoot a deer. No man can come out to the ranch and leave empty-handed. Shawn went off on his own, and Mike, Ryan, and I set off in the Polaris to do some duck-huntin. Which involved wading through water (in waders and camo that wasn’t mine-apparently pink doesn’t bring the ducks in), and posting up in the reeds for a good hour. We threw duck decoys into the water and settled in. Meanwhile, two shots rang out across the ranch after Bart had been in the blind for approximately 12 minutes, so that boded well for later. Then Ryan pulled out the duck caller. Which he’s very talented at using. He has every duck call down to a science. Or an art, if you prefer. After failing to find ducks in one spot, we headed to a different part of the creek, found the ducks, and the boys started shooting. Did I mention I was toting a revolver? Yup. I was.
We cleaned up the decoys and headed back. Also, imagine me trying to scale a vertical cliff made mostly of small rocks, mud, and tree roots. This turned out to be a pretty difficult endeavor. Upon returning, we investigated Bart’s big kill—a six-month old baby boy deer, who was probably Bambi’s distant younger cousin. He apparently shot at the first thing he saw, and when that didn’t work, he went all Last of the Mohicans on that sucker and slit its throat with a knife. Not ideal. But hey, whatever works, right?
After the guys cleaned Barts fawn, weimmediately went out hog-huntin’ with Mike’s neighbors, Charles McGuire and Austin Sullivan, and their dogs- Rocky, Sara, and Tough. Sara & Tough are trackers and Rocky is the killer, or “Missile with Teeth,” as Austin likes to call him.
So for 3 hours, we are chasing a truck and dogs, crammed into the Polaris with our blankets and snuggies. The boys were prepared to hop out of the car at any point and go chasing hogs. I was just along for the ride. Is anyone else laughing at the entire weekend and the fact that I was in any way involved? Yeah, me too. The hogs evaded us, so we headed back to the ranch and commenced dinner preparations at 10:30pm.
I had a failed attempt at dealing with baked potatoes, and made the mistake of ordering my steak “medium plus,” about which the guys had no end of amusement. They really really love giving me a hard time. But they can take it, so whatever. Anyway, Ryan fell asleep on the table at dinner, but we forced him to rally because he was the main event at the forthcoming bonfire.
Did I mention that when Bart & Ryan get together, it’s completely ridiculous? They’re almost unstoppable. Add in Mike, and I didn’t have a chance. Of course, I don’t help myself out very much. They have plenty of material to work with regarding me. It’s just funny that Carolyn gets almost none of the teasing that I do.
That said, we rolled up to this cliffside around midnight, with Cactus Mike at the wheel. Ironically, he hopped out of the Polaris and right into a pile of prickly pears. Thus commenced one of the more hysterical scenes in my recent memory: Bart holding a spotlight as Ryan and Shawn pull prickly pear spines out of Mike’s backside. Don’t worry, everyone remained fully clothed during this process.
Then began the firebuilding process. The guys didn’t think ahead to bring dry wood from the ranch house, so they set to attempting to light a fire with damp firewood. Paper towel kindling and lighter fluid kept things going until Shawn could make it back to the Polaris for the emergency gas. This ingenious move saved the campfire experience. Again, Carolyn and I stood back (about 30 feet) and watched the ridiculous display of failed Boy Scout antics. To summarize the bonfire, Ryan’s guitar skills were only outshone by Bart’s harmonica savvy and Mike’s ability to sing the Blues. And Shawn’s ability to keep a fire going using sheer willpower, a big stick, and half the oil in Texas. TJOGEL would be proud.
We sat down and started singing all kinds of Blues: The Hipster Blues (Mike took charge here and listed all his grievances, from V-neck Tees to PBR and bad service at the local coffee shops; the Hunting Blues (Ryan was “sittin’ in the deer blind with Anna Lee, glad she didn’t point the muzzle at me”); and the Law School Blues, which were pretty unmemorable. We sang a few Christmas carols, some hunting ballads, and a little “Kiss the Girl.” This really brought out the more creative sides of the guys. Except Shawn, who kind of hovered over the group and the fire pit, acting as Keeper of the Flame.
Eventually, someone checked a watch and realized it was 3AM and we were set to head back out into the blinds in approximately three hours. So it was time to shut down the fire. We let the boys do their thing there…meaning we headed up to the Polaris and didn’t ask questions or watch. Use your imaginations. When we got back, Carolyn made the executive decision to sleep instead of trying to get her deer. Bart was willing to be a buddy and go with her if absolutely necessary, but it was apparent that sleep was the preferred activity for the following morning.
We all slept in, and then I made pumpkin chocolate-chip muffins for breakfast. We cleaned up and headed back to A-Town around 1:00. We said our goodbyes to Mike and Shawn and saw Ryan off on his own. For some strange reason, Mike didn’t trust Carolyn or me to drive his car back (shocked!), so Bartholomew took care of business. We rolled up to Austin a few hours later, starving, exhausted, and on fun overload.
Aside: A 20-year-old 1L who shall remain nameless arrived at the ranch shortly thereafter and ate a couple of my muffins. They were apparently delicious, but he would have preferred to keep the chocolate chip and pumpkin separate. I would apologize, but instead, the next time I don’t bake muffins for you, I’ll take your opinion into consideration.
Overall, this trip was the perfect way to end an exhausting semester. I’m legit Texas now! (SK, I know I haven’t lived half my life here, but can’t we count 3 months of law school?) And bonus—I proved I’m at least slightly less delicate than most people may think. Can’t imagine what the first semester would have been like without these guys and Carolyn. Good, bad, ugly, they made 1L Part 1 what it was. To close with a modified line from Casablanca….”We’ll always have Texas.”
Given the extreme feelings on both sides of the Joe Paterno/Penn State situation, I’d like to throw a few thoughts out there:
“All it takes for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.”
Certainly evil triumphed at Penn State, but was Joe Paterno part of the evil, or was he merely the good man who did nothing? Have we ever been in such a situation to know whether or what we would do? I’m not saying he was right, or taking a side, but pair it with this, and both sides of the divide have a lot to consider (Christian or non-Christian, still wise words):
“You therefore have no excuse, you who pass judgment on someone else, for at whatever point you judge the other, you are condemning yourself , because you who pass judgment do the same things…So when you, a mere man, pass judgment on them and yet do the same things, do you think you will escape God’s judgment? Or do you show contempt for the riches of his kindness, tolerance and patience, not realizing that God’s kindness leads you toward repentance?”
Romans 2:1-4
C.S. Lewis once said “Even God does not presume to judge a man until the end.” Perhaps we shouldn’t presume so much, lest we should want to subject ourselves to the same judgment in our present states.
So basically, I’m just sayin. Put those two thoughts above together. Let’s hold off a little bit. No matter how you feel about him-Sinner, Saint, or somewhere in between.
