Real Life Interview

During the last few weeks at the law school, the dress code seems to have changed-sweat pants have morphed into suit pants and polished shoes, ties and collared shirts have replaced wrinkled T shirts (except for J-M on Fridays...he's started playing basketball after class, and shows up to Property ready to hit the gym). Along with the regular course load, many of the 1Ls have been preparing for interviews. Whenever someone arrives to class in a suit now, the question has become "Oh, do you have a real life interview?"

I had a mock interview with Career Services last week. The interviewer gave me some interesting feedback..."You're introspective," she said. "You know yourself." I've been thinking about whether that's true. I've been asked twice this week by professors what I think of a case and whether I think the argument was justified. Maybe it seems strange, but I so often have my hands full trying to figure out what the court thinks that I pay little attention to my own opinions. But now that I have an excuse---I've thought a little. About my thoughts. A simple exercise, but one I haven't engaged in much lately.

I love restocking the grimy beverages at the College of Law bookstore.
I think there's no better feeling than washing my hands vigorously after restocking beverages and seeing the water running off them turn a tinted brown. It's the simplest way to get a feeling of accomplishment, a job well done-getting messy and cleaning up.
If you go to law school-go with your spouse-or with your best friend, anyone who knows you well and is in it with you for the long haul---because if I'm going to be stuck in a study carrel until 7 every night, I want to know the person on the other side of that carrel, and know that it's hard for him too. And that we can laugh at things together when we finally go home.

Heading South---to the Future

We were scheduled to leave Skagway on the morning of August 3rd. We woke up that morning to the thickest smoke we'd seen yet that summer. We'd had such warm weather that we could often see and smell the smoke that had drifted over from the Yukon, but that morning was especially bad. So bad that when we arrived at Wings of Alaska, we were informed that none of the pilots were going to fly in through the smoke. Long story short, we were stuck in Skagway until the smoke cleared. Instantly my mind was filled with worst case scenarios...we have a plane to catch in Juneau! My brother's wedding is next week! Disgruntled, I left with John-Mark to play tourist as we wandered off to kill time by wandering through downtown Skagway.

Later that day, one brave pilot punched through the smoke clouds with his 6 passenger plane and we were able to finally escape. As anxious as I was that afternoon, I've reflected since that being stuck in that "airport" gave me one last chance to learn what Alaska had tried to teach us all summer...although the "lower 48" maintain a different pace, many Alaskans remember that they aren't tied to schedules and to due dates. In the 4 by 22 blocks of Skagway, John-Mark and I used the summer to slow down.

Our pristine "motor coaches" also wouldn't travel up the Klondike Highway at speeds greater than 10 MPH when fully loaded-another thing that helped us to take things slow. Real slow.

Wild and Wonderful

When we started sending in our law school applications I used to joke with John-Mark that we should just send in one- to WVU. I'm not sure why I seemed to know that this is where we'd end uup- maybe because it seemed fair. We've been four years in Provo, and it seemed appropriate to balance the scales by going back home. When I first visited the Atkinsons in West Virginia in 2007, my experience there showed me a unity that I'd never experienced before. From the way that his family loved eachother and seemed so content to lie on the living room carpet and play Skipbo, to the choruses at family barbeques of "Take me home, country roads": I was astounded that at times West Virginia seemed so removed from the rest of the world, but at the same time that was the way it should be. While it was initially strange to be part of the group rendition of "She'll be comin' round the mountain", it was a simplicity that I loved and instantly seemed familiar to me.

I think that Mom had the same experience when she visited West Virginia last August after we were married. After church on Sunday I found her in tears, surprised and moved by the love that was there- both in the ward and in the Atkinson family. I'm scared to move across the country to an unfamiliar place, but I'm learning to rely on my own experience rather than these fears. John-Mark's presence helps to bring peace to me, and I keep reminding myself that if West Virginia produced him, it can only do great things for me.