On having not caught 22

Ah, December. A beautiful month sullied only by the appearance of excruciatingly painful final exams. I still find it hard to get used to this whole "no snow" thing here in Vancouver. I mean, I can see it on the North Shore mountains, it just never makes it past those North Van houses (typical, hoarding snow like they do wealth.) It is almost as if the snow is beckoning me back home, over the mountains. Nice try, my frozen friend, but I'll manage with these warm climes at least for the next little while.

On that note, it is only two weeks until I touch down in cowtown for the holidays. It will be nice to relax (pending, of course, a law memo, a feminism paper, and a complete draft of a future television show). I haven't done any Christmas shopping for the family yet, but if history is any guide, that can be accomplished in one fell swoop at the ol' Future Shop. Ah, engineers: technical gadgetry shall be thine Achilles Heel.

I'm looking forward to doing some actual reading over the holidays, and not just cases upon cases. Maybe I'll finish Catch-22, which heretofore I've only been reading in segments at Kingston laundromats for the past 3 years (oh, how I love my basement apartment washer and dryer, don't ever change!). I'm positive that'll be the funniest book I've ever read, when I actually finish it.

To be talking about Christmas is just plain weird, though. It only struck me recently, that exactly one year ago, I hadn't even written the successful LSAT exam that would eventually take me to law school. (The incredibly unsuccessful one still being fresh in my mind at that point.) Now here I am, and everyone's freaking out about whether they'll stay in law school. I guess you just can't win as a lawyer... unless you win your case and get a share of those sweet, sweet punitive damages.