Awkward, or what did I expect going to South Da-f'n-kota?

Thanksgiving was odd.
I've been sitting here working on my contracts outline* for a bit, but I can't seem to stop my mind from wandering to the Thanksgiving that just past.
As you probably know, I went to my Dad's for Thanksgiving this year, which I guess is the second Thanksgiving meal in a row I've spent with him. Last year went fine, this year, not so much. Nothing went wrong, per se. But it all felt wrong.
Let's start towards the beginning. We got into South Dakota Wednesday night and from the beginning it was weird. We were sitting in the car in front of my Dad's for a second, just getting our heads together and taking one last moment to collect ourselves, when the garage door slowly started to crawl up and the light started leaking from the inside into the frigid night. And we were on our way.
Wednesday wasn't so bad. We chatted for a bit before going to bed. Nothing too much came up, except Dad's passion lately has been doing the family tree. From what I can tell it seems like this is a thing a lot of people become interested in later in life. Kind of an exploration into where we come from and that sort of thing. Should be harmless, but he really takes it seriously. And more than trying to find out stories of people, or just getting the dates of their birth and death, Dad's trying to figure out where they are all buried. And then visit them. When we left, he gave us directions and maps to all the people's graves he's found so far. I don't know, maybe this is normal, but it was really macabre.
Thursday is when the weird ratched up a bit. I got up and my sister was already in and we all sat down for breakfast. Mostly harmless chit chat, except my sister brought up my mother. Which shouldn't be a big deal, but there we were talking quickly about Christmas gift ideas for her, in my father's home, infront of him and his woman-friend. I didn't even realize I'd been speaking in hushed tones until the subject changed and I started talking to my dad. They've been divorced for something like 5 years now, but I'm still not used to it. I mean, I'm used to it in that I know I'm not going to see one when I see the other. And I know they're never getting back together, that's not the issue. It's just that my brain does not split them apart the way that divorce has. When I see my Dad, I think of my mother. But when I'm with him now, I know I shouldn't think of my mother, so I feel strange. And I don't know how to deal with that, so I deal with it rather awkwardly.
But everyone seems comfortable ingnoring the awkwardness. So, that's what we do. It's what we've always done.
The day picked up a little when we went to pick up my Grandmother from the retirement home she lives in. I hadn't seen her in four years or so. She's 94 now and her health has been steadily declining. She's now confined to a wheelchair and has a hard time talking and hearing. It's really hard to get her in and out of the car, because she has so much trouble moving. Which is hard to see. She used to be so full of energy, but she's still very sweet. And we had a nice little talk. I think she really liked meeting Dinah.
And I think by the time we got back, people started arriving, which was great. My dad's family (and I guess my family) is full of some really nice, fun people. And the Thanksgiving meal itself was pretty good. The food was solid. The conversation was nice. It was very pleasant. I caught up with some cousins and an aunt and uncle. Yeah. Good times.
After dinner, my dad asked if I would help him take Grandma back to the home, which I was a little nervous about. It meant time alone with my father. I have not been alone with my father since the divorce. But, I agreed. If our relationship is going to get any better, I'm going to have to not be afraid to see my dad without the protection of a crowd. This theory works fine, in theory.
It was a quiet ride out to the home. Short little chit chat, as we were both probably feeling out the situation. But, on the ride back to his place, I decided to try to open up a bit. He asked a little about law school and grades and such. I bitched a little about the lack of feedback of law school and how I want to do well, but don't know that I will. I told him how I would like to get into criminal defense or somewhere in public interest law. Maybe I'd even open my own firm someday.
And he was just quiet. He said I would not necessarily need the best grades for those goals and that I set goals for myself that are really high. I sat there trying to decide if he was really telling me I shouldn't set high goals, and I shouldn't feel the need to push. Was he really telling me I should settle for less than I feel I can accomplish? And it was awkward. I guess I was comfortable ignoring the awkwardness, because that's what I did.
I tried to talk a little more about it, but it kind of became clear he had no real interest in it, and the topic was dropped. I don't know. He had to have known it was awkward. He had to feel my dissappointment. But something about this conversation had made him uncomfortable. And the Ambrosons deal with discomfort by seeking quiet, and by turning inward. Or maybe he didn't realize this was me opening up. I can't be sure. But either way, this was the point where I decided I didn't need to hide myself in order to make him comfortable.
When we got home and most everyone had left, we started talking about baseball. It's an innocuous enough topic, except when there is tension. My father and I are both St. Louis Cardinal fans who were disappointed with the way the past season turned out. But we both take a different look at baseball--me being more in tune with the moneyball, statistical analysis and him being more old school. So, when we talked about the Cardinals letting David Eckstein** go and the new baseball statistics, it's no surprise that we disagreed. What was a little surprising was how entrenched he seemed to be in his position. We used to give a little ground and leave room for the other's position, but not so much this time. When we were talking about WAR***, he scoffed saying, "well, it's easy to see that Albert Pujols is more valuable than Chris Duncan." Which is a true enough statement, but seems to intentionally miss the point I was making.
And for the rest of the visit, this is how it was. He'd make some know-it-all statement**** and I'd just nod to myself and let it go, because it was awkward, and I guess I'm just more comfortable letting it go than arguing about it.
And breakfast the next day was just painful. Throughout the visit, I got to see my father and his woman-friend be playful with each other. Which is, you know, good. For them. I try not to think too much about it, but it bothers me watching them be playful. It's probably not just for show, but the play fighting and cute in-jokes come off really fake to me. And it could be that I'm just biased about this. It could be that right now, wherever they are, they're doing the same stuff, but man. I can't deal with it. It just feels like it's all being done to show me how happy they are. And I don't doubt they're happy. They've been together for 5 or 6 years, and they've both sacrificed a lot to make their relationship happen and work. So, I hope they're happy.
But it's awkward. It's really awkward. And it's really going to be better if we do not ignore it.
I know the problems we're dealing with are large and come from more than just his actions around his divorce from my mom. We're talking about tensions that come from my not unconditionally accepting his new relationship, from his insecurity around me possibly being more successful than he is, from my desire to please my father and how angry it makes me that this is my default position, and so much more. So, I don't know that this is ever going to be something we can fix. I don't know if it's worth it for me to even try. And I really don't know if he notices, or cares, or would be willing to put in the work that would be needed. But, I have got to figure out what it is I need from him, and what it is I am willing to settle for. Maybe this is as good as it is going to get.
Either way, I'm happy I'm back in St. Paul, working on getting my life where I want it to be.



*Note 1. Contracts = argh.
**Note 2. Eckstein was a good Cardinal, but I am of the belief that he was continually overrated, usually by people who love to call him "scrappy". He was solid, but not amazing.
***Note 3. Win Above Replacement. A really helpful statistic that helps value a player compared to a statistically average player.
****Note 4. My two favorites? When we were going by Interstate 229, his woman-friend asked what we called these types of roads, he responded, "Well, it's not technically an interstate or a freeway, so I guess it's just a highway." Huh? And the second, "The piano is a percussion instrument."

Ridiculous. And kind of cool.

How emotionally stunted and needy are law school students at this time of year, with finals on the horizon and mid-terms just being returned to us? It's a good question. But it brings an ugliness you might not be ready for.
So, on Wednesday we got back a writing exam. One day after getting back a paper we'd turned in. This means about 50% of us scored under the average and were depressed, because maybe this means we're not going to be good attorneys. 5% of us scored right around the average and we're depressed because this means we'll be average attorneys, which translates into being unemployed in our minds. 40% of us scored over the average and were depressed because we don't have any idea what our score means and there's every chance we're not going to be good attorneys. 4.9% scored at the top and are not depressed, but they're not content either. And there's one person who scored the top score and is depressed because of everything they had to sacrifice to get the top score. But that's all normal.
What wasn't normal was what happened after. We have this class on Mondays and Fridays, but the exams got into the student services office on Wednesday, which means we didn't have a chance to hear how he thought we did, or for him to say anything about anything. All we knew was that he got mad at our class because someone was clearly surfing the internet in class, which is beyond taboo in law school. Honestly, he just told the whole class not to look at the internet. He didn't call out the person; he didn't throw anyone out of class. And I am quite sure most the other professors here would have at least yelled. But he was cool about it. But between that and the test dropping midweek, it became clear to many in our section that our professor hated us. He hated us for not doing better on the test.
It's true he was a little bit sheepish if you'd run into him in the halls (and I ran into him twice between Wednesday and Friday). He'd nod at you as if taking your temprature to see how disapointed you were with your score, or your choice in going to law school, or with him for giving you a grade you didn't want or you thought you didn't deserve. Or maybe he was nodding because he was just so seriously disappointed in us. And that dissapointment had transformed into hatred. Sheer, burning, angry hatred. No other reasonable explanation.
Yes. That's exactly how emotionally stunted and needy we are right now. If you know someone who lives with or near someone in law school or who's significant other is in law school right now, remember they need your support now more than ever.
****
So, Wednesday night, Mitchell hosted oral arguments held infront of the Supreme Court of Minnesota. Which was awesome. What was even more awesome, you ask? I got to be a greeter for the justices. Which means, I got to chit-chat with them and shake hands with them. I'm sure I made no lasting impression on any of them and that it will not help me much going forward. Except in one way. I comported myself pretty well.
The only really dumb moment for me was when running out to meet Justice Page with an umbrella, I said, "Good morning Justice Page." It being 5:30 pm, it was dark in St. Paul. But the Justice is a nice man, and I was holding an umbrella, sheilding him from the rain, so he said kindly, "It's night." To which I replied, "I'm sorry. I get here and it's dark and I leave and it's dark." And he laughed. So. Yeah. I'm gaining confidence.
Which is all the more amazing considering all the professors here who hate me.

The average.

So far in law school all of the grades I've been given have just been numbers. And then I'm given a number that represents the average. And that's it. I've been left to draw my own conclusions about what my number means in comparison to the average number. Will this put me in the top 25%, or the bottom 25%? What grade does this translate into? Does this mean I know the law, or not? Will I be able to get a job if this is the kind of law student or attorney I am? It's not really a statement on how well I understand the law, although it does invite me to draw my own conclusions.
And really, I find it kind of frustrating. I don't know from one assignment to the next whether I'm improving. I only know where I am in that particular moment in relation to everyone else. And I guess that's nice, but it's not what I feel like I need to know. I feel like I need to know that I'm understanding on an absolute plain, not in relation to everyone else. I don't know if I'll ever get to know that really. I mean, honestly, grades probably don't really ever tell you that. So, I don't know.
I guess I'm hoping I can find a place where there is solid ground. Where I know where I stand and how I'm doing. I mean, it would be even better if I knew I was doing really well, but that's a lot to ask. I know that's probably a lot to ask being that I just started school this past summer and I haven't even really done a full semester. But. Man. It would be really refreshing right now.

Law School is harsh...but good

Well. It has been a while since I updated, and I'm sorry about that. I probably don't have to say this, but law school has made me a very busy person. So, yeah. Can't promise I'm going to be better in the future. At least until after Dec. 16, which is the date of my last final. But, I'll try. Today, I'm gonna be serving up an update in the mega-update mold.
****
Things are going well in law school. I think. I'm not behind in my readings. I'm not behind in my outlines. And I think I'm getting a pretty good understanding of the material we've been covering. And I haven't made too big a fool of myself in class. These are the kind of comforts I've been able to find so far. That I'm not behind, and I don't look foolish. Not a high bar.
It's a little lonely heading to the library day after day and that has been grating. Class time is very challenging, what with making sure I'm understanding everything and that I'm engaged and prepared. And I can't say that if I were able to choose my classes, I would have chosen all of these classes. But, on the whole, I am liking this. I really am. And the odd thing is I don't know why. Perhaps I'm a sadist.
More likely is I'm starting to see the possibilities. Even if I can't quite see them in focus yet, I'm at least able to see the direction I'm heading. After having spent so much time feeling like I wasn't going anywhere and I wasn't doing anything, this is a big comfort. Huge.
It's been a really long time since I felt like I have the ability to make things happen. It's so good to feel it again. I'm trying not to focus too much on my grades and assignments and how that all impacts my future, because honestly it's hard to say how any of that will impact things. I'm mostly just trying to enjoy dreaming again.
****
Of course, this has been stressful. And nothing will make everyone around me here freak out as much as one word: finals. We've got two full weeks of classes followed by two 3-day weeks (because of Thanksgiving and a couple class make-up days), before we hit finals. My first final will be on my birthday, which is just precious.
****
This Thanksgiving, I'll be heading to my dad's. The way Dinah and I work holidays is to alternate between her family and mine. One gets Thanksgiving, one gets Christmas. Up until this year, that meant her parents got one and my mom got the other. Since I hadn't been talking to my father, going to his place for a holiday wasn't really a concern. Now, however, we are communicating. So. Yeah.
We sort of lucked out this year, because Dinah's folks originally had Thanksgiving, but they decided to make other plans. So, we were open when my dad asked us to his place. And since her parents are coming up here for a couple weeks around Christmas, we'll still get a chance to see them after we head to Des Moines to see my mom.
So. Yeah. It works out this year. Next year, I don't really know how that's going to work. And honestly, I am starting to feel like I am at the point where I just want to have holidays with my wife. I don't want to have to travel and I really, really don't want ot have to deal with all the juggling of interests and hurt feelings when I am trying to figure out how to spend my holidays. I don't want to have to consider anyone's emotions when I'm planning out what I'm going to do with my time off.
I know. It's not going to happen without hurt feelings. But I'm gonna dream.
****
Speaking of dreams. Law school will crush your dreams. I'd like to direct everyone to this video. It's from a Pepsi commercial that was made when I was a kid. And it led to one of the cases I had to read for my Contracts class, Leonard v. Pepsico, Inc., 88 F.Supp.2d 116 (S.D.N.Y. 1999). (Proper citation!)
Basically in this case, we have a boy who sued Pepsi because he wanted to get the harrier jet that's "advertised" at the end of the commercial. The boy got together the points he needed to buy the jet, but Pepsi said the jet wasn't really offered. It was just a joke. And the court agreed with them, saying that a reasonable person would understand it was a joke.
But. That kind of sucks. I mean, maybe I was a dumb kid, but I took the offer seriously when Pepsi made it. I thought, well, Pepsi's a big company and if anyone could offer such an obviously awesome prize, it was a big company like that. What I'm saying is, I think the court used the wrong standard. Pepsi was advertising to kids, so maybe a reasonable kid should be the standard. (Note that I am not arguing that I was a reasonable kid.) I doubt it changes the case at all, because the kid had his lawyer send in his order with the required payment. So, it's not like he was acting like a reasonable kid in responding to the ad.
But still. I remember watching that commercial and thinking how awesome it would be to drive a jet to school. I mean, I didn't live very far from my middle school, but still. Awesome. I knew I'd never drink enough Pepsi to make it happen, but it still seemed so possible. Sucks to know it was all nothing.
Oh well.
****
I gotta say. I know law school students have a reputation for being cut throat and hard to deal with, but I am really enjoying meeting everyone. Here at Mitchell, it's not cut throat at all. I mean, we're all striving to do our best and in that way it's competive. But mostly, everyone is very nice about things and willing to help if you ask questions. Or willing to chat. It's pretty cool here.