anniversaries and another reason to celebrate

Since my last post, we've come a long way with our grieving. For the rest of my life I'll miss my dear father-in-law, but after 2 months, life without him is starting to feel "normal."

And lately we've had other reasons to be happy and much going on to keep us focused on the positive, such as...

One Year in NOLA
On July 8th, we celebrated the anniversary of our move to New Orleans! It's certainly been a long, difficult year, but the trials and tribulations have only served to make this place feel more like home. In that year our little basement apartment has been a retreat from the madness of Mardi Gras, a secluded studying place, and a comforting haven of relaxation from the stress of the Real World. The city no longer feels intimidating; I know the sidestreets and the shortcuts, the good neighborhoods from the bad, and the intricacies of the public transportation system. We've found the restaurants and bars favored by the locals (although sometimes it's still fun to 'play tourist' and visit the more touristy places), and we've made some good friends. For all of the difficulties this move has presented, all in all I'm so very glad we're here. And there's still 2 years to go before we can even think of moving away, which gives us plenty of time to make more memories, and for this charming city to grow even more dear in our hearts.

Six Years Married
On August 6th, we celebrated six years of marriage! On the one hand, it seems like the time has gone by so quickly, but on the other hand, when I stop and think of all that's happened in those six years, it seems like it's been a lot longer. Since 2004, we've been through an emergency appendectomy, the euthanasia of one of our pets, 3 moves in 2 cities, the purchase of a new car, an extended separation for the sake of my studies, a bachelor's degree, a year of grad school, a year of law school, the formulation and disintegration of 2 bands, and the death of a dearly beloved, just to name a few. And still we love and appreciate one another. My husband is still my best friend and confidant, and for all of my independence and strength, I cannot imagine my life without him. So it goes that we're heading into year seven of this legal, emotional, and intellectual partnership and I haven't any regrets about the path we're traveling together.

And Another Reason to Celebrate
Hubby has made the decision to go back to school! So on August 23rd he'll be starting with me at Tulane. He's going to finish his bachelor's degree in English. We got him in through the School of Continuing Studies, since he's over 25 and has been out of school for so many years. (Which is excellent because it means discounted tuition!) If all goes according to plan, we'll graduate together in 2012! In the meanwhile we can think about where he'll go to grad school, because I've convinced him that to really get anywhere in this modern world one must have more than a bachelor's degree.

All in all, these are exciting times. We've got much going on, and we're both going to be very busy, but I know that we're moving in the right direction, and that the future has many good things in store for us. The hardest part, as usual, is to not loose sight of the present, and to enjoy each day for what goodness it has to offer, instead of focusing too intently on what lies ahead. For while it is all good and well to plan ahead, it's for naught if one doesn't live in the moment, because the future is not guaranteed. So even though it's deathly hot and we're fighting a little fever-bug, I'll count my present blessings and enjoy this Sunday for what it's worth.

the days roll by disconnected

More than a week has passed since I became closely acquainted with death, and still I'm struggling to come to terms with this turn of events. Time seems to have taken on a different character; each day seems to last an eternity and it's become so easy to loose track of how much time has actually passed since that endless night when the sun set forever on John's life.

I did well enough the first few days; I think I was on auto-pilot to get through the funeral. And then we came home, which, for some reason, has been the hardest part. It's like it wasn't real to me while we were in Jackson; it was more like some hazy dream. It wasn't until I got back on the well-worn streets of New Orleans that it hit me with the force of a hurricane: I'll never again go home to see my dear sweet father-in-law. And then the tears came in a flood.

The tears have since dried up, but the sadness lingers. I feel immensely apathetic and the simplest tasks require me to summon super-human strength. Or so it seems.

I know there's nothing to do but work through it. I'm not pushing myself too hard, though; I'm temporarily lowering my expectations of myself, telling myself it's okay to feel this hurt and emptiness, and that I shouldn't be expected to bounce right back to my usually over-achieving self. Because I know that this sadness will pass; the void will always remain, but the acute pain of the loss will ease with time. And so it will go that, in time, I will bounce back to my usual level of productivity.

For the time being though, I'll let myself take it slow, and let the sadness wrap me in its misty embrace. As more days turn into more weeks and those weeks turn into months, it will get easier.

a loss

My father-in-law died last night. Hubby and I were there, along with my mother in law. It was quiet and peaceful. And it was time. The cancer he had been battling since May of 2008 had finally made living difficult for him, so we can only be glad that he went quickly and quietly after the decision was made Friday night to only give him palliative care.

Even still, the loss is hard to bare. I've never before experienced the loss of a close family member. And it's tough.

I thought I'd have more to write; writing usually helps me cope with difficult emotions. But here I find myself at a loss for words. Maybe it's too soon.

Johnny Eugene Hammack
05/15/1941 - 06/05/2010

spring time in New Orleans

The weather is perfect: mid-70s and sunny with a breeze.

Flowers are everywhere, and there's verdant new growth cropping up on every branch, shrub, and vine.


The air, humid as always, is lush with the rich scents of wisteria, jasmine, and other mysterious blossoms unrecognizable to me.

It's so wonderful I'm having difficulty staying focused and on task. All I want to do is wander around and experience the beauty of each day, occasionally stopping to sit and wonder at my good fortune to be alive and well in such a lovely place. But law school finals lurk in the background, and anxiety never fails to disturb my tranquility. So I'm striving to find a balance between working diligently and not taking a single precious day for granted.

old friends

For anyone out there who knew me way back when I was but a lass of 16 or younger, this is for you:

You likely don't know how much your friendship meant to me, but I look back upon our time together so fondly. Those carefree days in sunny Florida will always occupy a special place in my heart.

After middle school I only had the one year of high school. And when I moved to Mississippi, I was practically an adult by the time I got settled here. Beyond what I knew at LMCS and DBHS, I never had the formative, rite-of-passage experiences that most American teenagers share: prom, spring break adventures, the shared anxiety of awaiting college acceptance decisions, and those last bittersweet weeks of senior year.

I have no regrets as to how my life unfolded, but so it goes that my middle school friends and my 9th grade friends remain so dear to me in my memories. The times we had and the experiences we shared, while seemingly mundane or silly or fleeting, will always be special to me.

And even though my role in your lives has likely been much smaller than your role in my life, please know that I'll never forget you. I wish you all the best, and I'll always be grateful for your friendship.

suiting

First thing this morning I had an on-campus interview, which meant (1) that I was frigid during the outdoors portion of my morning commute, and (2) that I was stuck wearing a business suit all the day long. Lounging in the student center reading for class, walking around on campus, eating lunch, and going to class all had to be done in a damned business suit, none of which felt right.

Now, I realize that I’m going to have to become more accustomed to wearing suits. But this realization has two caveats. One, if all goes according to plan, I won’t actually have to wear suits all too often, and certainly not all day, every day. Two, the wearing of suits that I will be doing will be better suited for suits than the things I’ve been doing today. That is, ideally, I’ll wear suits for court, depositions, and an occasional super-important meeting, but for doing everyday legal work I can simply wear put-together, professional-looking attire that isn’t necessarily a suit. And when I am in a suit I (hopefully) won't be in an environment where I stick out like a sore thumb as the only one wearing a suit amongst a bunch of 1st year law students and undergrads.

There’s just something about wearing a suit that makes me feel stuffy and uptight. Hopefully that will pass as I wear suits more often, but for now I’m happy to be home in yoga pants and a flannel shirt...

of practice, perfection, and patience

Twice since arriving at Tulane I've been told that it takes approximately 10,000 hours to "master" a skill. Apparently, that works out to about five years....

If that's true, I've already mastered the practice of law. I mean, sure I wasn't Licensed By The State, but I know from living in a law office day in and day out for five years what it takes to be a good lawyer. I've been there and done that every step of the way along with those who were duly licensed, with the exception of the Official Courtroom Proceedings...

I'm loving law school because it's school - challenging and rewarding - but I miss the actual practice of law. This is actually encouraging, however, because it has me totally convinced that I'm on the right path. If I find myself eager to find a law office job and again do Real Legal Work, then most certainly law school was, in spite of all the doubt and worry and difficulty of the past few weeks and months, really and truly a Good Idea.

For the time being, however, it's back to the books. School has been demanding lately (as if that's anything new), and the sorry part is that it's going to get much, much worse before it gets any better. For the past two weeks we were busy and distracted with the stress of practice exams. Although they were only practice and not for any kind of grade, to benefit from it one had to put forth something resembling the effort and time required to prepare for a Real Law School Exam. This week brought our first Real Research Writing Project Deadline, as well as the first session of a Career Development mini-course.

And all the while I'm still reading cases and learning doctrines, because practice makes perfect.

But what I miss is the day-to-day practice of law in the Real World. I'm caught up in the Ivory Tower in a way that I've never actually before been. (It used to be, in my previous scholastic endeavors, that my law office wage-earning work kept me firmly tethered to the Real World, but now I find myself steeped in the academy in a way that borders on suffocation.) What I'm doing now - right now - doesn't matter to anyone. No one is depending on me to do something with a piece of paper that will have a lasting, meaningful impact on someone's life course. I'm just reading cases long decided, and analyzing and writing about hypothetical legal problems. All the while there's Real Legal Problems happening, out there in the Real World, but they are wholly disconnected from my current endeavors.

So I'll continue diligently working, in eager anticipation of the day when the Law School Hazing is over and I can start taking baby-steps into the Real World as a Real Lawyer...

a carrell with a view

I have a lovely view from my favorite study spot in the Law Library:

The photo doesn't actually do it justice. In real life the NOLA sky-line can be seen much more clearly from the 5th story of Tulane's law library.

And it is from this vantage point that I watch the hours of the day, and the days of the week, and the weeks of the month pass me by.

My days begin around 6am with a round of sun salutations, even though the sun cannot be seen from within our little basement apartment. Then I pack myself a healthy lunch, and blend up a healthy liquid breakfast in the form of a fruit-soymilk-lowfat yogurt-and flaxseed-smoothie.

After getting dressed and double-checking that I have all required books for the day as well as weather appropriate accessories, I head out to catch the 7:15 streetcar. Sometimes I miss it, and end up on the 7:25 streetcar instead. Other times I'm early enough to get on the 7:05 streetcar.

But I'm always on campus by8am. I stop off at my locker where I stow away my lunch and any reading materials that aren't immediately necessary. And, depending on the day, I either head directly up to my 5th floor carrell, or to class at 8:30. If it's an 8:30-class-day, then I'll be in the library by 10am.

And there I settle in, unpacking my bag and spreading my personalty about the carrell like strategically placed soldiers. As I read and think and write the hours pass by. At the appointed times I pack up and go to class, or go eat lunch in the courtyard when hunger strikes, but then I'll retreat once again to this safe place of quiet and solitude until the day is done and I retire to the comfort of home, hubby, and kitties. (And even there I must diligently continue to read and write and think about the law.)

in another town

Well, I survived the hottest, longest, most miserable move ever (note: never, ever move to New Orleans in July if you can help it). And it was followed by several weeks without internet connectivity, but now all that mess is behind me.

Happily, although the move seemed to take forever-and-a-day, and was indeed unbearably hot, the process of settling in has gone much more smoothly than the process of getting here. It has been slow-going, but almost everything has now found its place. My proudest achievement is that all of the books are now categorized - a feat which hasn't been accomplished in far too long - and all have been neatly shelved in a manner which Adam has termed the Jacqui-decimal system, despite the absence of decimals or digits from the system. The closets are busting at their seams, but that's okay, because less than a half-dozen boxes remain to be sorted and unpacked.

So it goes that this little Garden District apartment - while perhaps a bit too small in actuality - continues to morph into a lovely home for us. 'Tis not my secluded duplex with three years' worth of memories, but when I stop playing the comparison game this new little place is quite nice on its own merit.

Yesterday I cooked from-scratch eggs benedict po-boys, which I paired with mimosas, and it was the perfect NOLA brunch. It was a celebration of sorts, of our last day off together before Adam starts his new job and I get thrown into the madness of being a 1L.

When I'm alone in the bedroom such as now I can hear the St. Charles streetcar roaring past. It's a sound I'm starting to get accustomed to, just like many other things about this truly unique city...

life as a chapter book

As I write this I ought to be packing, but I've convinced myself that I deserve a few leisure moments to sip my coffee and enjoy the therapeutic indulgence of writing my thoughts instead.

My time at Allen & Conway officially ended on Tuesday, June 30. I am living now in a bizarre sort of flux as my days here grow immensely short. I'm technically unemployed until I find a job in New Orleans. My house has been emptied of many of its defining elements (dining room furniture, couches, books on shelves) and is filled instead with boxes, a state which inevitably occurs when a move is imminent, and which I affectionately refer to as "Box House." Our handy-dandy Honda FIT has been in cargo-mode for several days now, and The Move officially commences tomorrow when the big truck gets loaded up and what little furniture we still have gets transported with the multitude of boxes to the Crescent City. After that, we'll take it slow and easy for a few days, living in a truly in-between state whilst transporting any straggler boxes, clothes, and the like in the FIT. Our bed is staying here until Monday, when we'll take it down in a borrowed pick-up truck and the kitties will be transported in twin kitty-kennels in the FIT.

It feels weird to be leaving all of this behind: the stress of my job, the familiarity of this city, and the company of dear friends. But this chapter of my life is coming to a close, and only so much can carry over. Truly, it is time; 9 years makes for a long chapter. The new chapter awaits with a new setting, a new cast of supporting characters, new challenges, opportunities, and accomplishments. And even while I'm eager to move away and proceed with the story of my life, I'm more than a little pained to turn the page and leave this chapter in the past.

So it goes, I suppose, that as one moves on to bigger and better things, the comfort of routine and familiarity must fall by the wayside, at least temporarily. And frequent goodbyes, as I well know, are part and parcel of this modern mobile life. Thus continues my life as a chapter book, with the Jackson chapter coming to a quick close and the New Orleans chapter patiently waiting for this page to turn.

beginnings and endings

Final grades for the Spring semester have been issued, and I managed to wrap up my tenure as a graduate student with a 4.0. Yay!

I only hope that I can keep up the momentum in law school. I doubt it, though. Perusing Tulane’s recent honorees leads me to believe that there must be one really difficult class, because all of the honorees – some of whom were at the top of their class – had GPAs in the 3.8 range. But I shall try my hardest and hope for the best.

People lately have been telling me “Congratulations,” and it still catches me by surprise. I was congratulated when I got married, and when I graduated last May, which makes sense to me. Going to law school doesn’t exactly strike me as the kind of thing one would be congratulated for – am I being commended for going into enormous debt? extolled for uprooting my family? praised for committing three more years of my life to more formal education? I suppose it is the achievement of getting accepted into a prestigious old law school that is being congratulated, but somehow it doesn’t feel like much of an achievement right now. No, right now it feels like a terrifying blind leap, taken on the chance and hope that this course will make a happier life for myself and my family in the long run.

Tulane offers me the following advice:

Relax this summer, and be ready to work hard when school starts.

And while that’s comforting to hear, the stress of the pending move makes it difficult. I know that it will all work out, but the uncertainty – the not yet knowing precisely how it all will unfold – is what eats away at me. As conscientious as I’d like to be – trying sometimes in vain to diligently make preparations and plans for The Move – in the end I realize that there’s only so much control I can exert on the way this chapter of my life shall end.

So I’ve lately resorted to reading The Witching Hour as a means to distract myself. And it seems to be working. That dense, lengthy Anne Rice novel which first caused me to fall in love with New Orleans does wonders to calm my nerves. And while offering the comfort of a previously read book, the story seems so much more vivid this time around, now that I have experienced the charm of the Crescent City first-hand, and it is no longer simply a made-up story-stage in my mind.

But this in-between time is bittersweet. Although my mind is mostly in New Orleans lately, my heart aches at certain Jackson sights. Like the flag pole in my cul-de-sac that's been crooked since the 4/4 tornado of 2008:


Something about these waning spring days strikes me as exceptionally splendid. Each magnolia blossom and cool crisp breeze brings a wave of nostalgia for something I haven’t even left yet, but which I know I will miss dearly. And though I know that this town will not fall off the face of the earth when I depart, I also know how it is to move away and return to a place you used to know intimately. Each change – a new building here, a widened street there – seems forced and artificial when you’re not around to witness a city’s organic growth. So it goes that I know visiting will never be the same, even as my time here goes shorter with each sunset. And even while I mourn my absence from this place that’s come to be my home over the last decade, I eagerly await building a new life, as a law student at Tulane University. It is so very exciting, after all.