So, I decided to start this blog, because I am in a period of transition. And I think a lot. And I am opinionated. And I like to share what is on my mind, come hell or high water. Basically, this blog is going to be chronicling my attempts to figure out, what exactly it is that I am going to want to do with my life, and what I want out of it. According to the three self-help books I have ordered from Amazon, this is my "quarter-life crisis." All of this takes place against the backdrop of my living the "young urban" life in Chicago, one of the three greatest cities in the U.S. (NYC of course, and San Fran will always have a special place in my heart).
But a lot has already happened. So instead of diving right in (because that would be confusing to you, the reader), first some background.
I was born and raised in the San Francisco Bay Area, in a town that was part of the massive suburban sprawl that is Silicon Valley, the name of which you probably wouldn't know if I told you. Actually did live in San Fran for the first couple years of my life, but I don't remember it. My upbringing was solidly suburban, upper-middle class.
When I hit 18 and graduated high school, I wanted to try something new, a new place. Much to the chagrin of my father, I didn't even consider applying to Stanford, because while excellent, it was literally a 5 minute walk from my high school. So in September 2007, I packed up my bags and headed east to Chicago (technically Evanston), and started four awe-some years at Northwestern University. I was an Art History and French major and, if I may say, damn good at it. Sometime in the middle of my junior year, after I had returned from 4 months in Paris, France, I decided that I wanted to go to law school. For a lot of complicated reasons-- my parents were both lawyers, I had become a much more political person, I felt like I wanted to go on a vendetta against criminals and terrorists, there was a lot of tie-in to my personal life philosophy, I thought it would be a good way to tie in my French major, if I could get into an international law position, and I figured I could travel a lot. So come fall of my Senior year, I took the LSAT and applied to (in retrospect, too many) schools. Got wait listed to way more than outright accepted or rejected (Yay combo of high GPA and 'meh' LSAT score). (Very) long story short, I didn't know where I was going to end up until July 29, 2011, about 2.5 weeks before orientation. For a while I was going to Virginia, then Boston...ultimately, things came total full circle, and I ended up back in Chicago.
So, I started law school. And I must say, my school does a very good job of making law school suck as little as possible, particularly 1L. No one razors stuff out of books in the library, and people are like generally pretty nice, even the "gunners." I actually met a pretty solid group of people in my section, and we became both study group partners and friends. Oddly, perhaps, I was more casually social in law school than I had ever been in college. I went out more.
But, I was still swamped in work. A lot. I never pulled an all-nighter for school until February-March of this year, and then I pulled like 2 in 3 weeks. Much to my surprise, I didn't suck at the academic side of it. At least not according to my first term grades... we shall see about this term. For a while I actually really liked it... the first semester was kind of a blur of collective 1L freak-out about what we were doing, how to do it, our grades... because honestly, no one had a clue. And in a way, it was kind of fun. We were all in the same boat. And then once I got my first term grades, I was over the moon. Did better than I ever thought I would, which increased my positive feelings towards law school.
But, towards the middle of the second semester, after the "holy shit I didn't fail" feeling from getting my grades started to wear off, some of the doubts that had been swimming in the back of my mind started to surface. Not about the law in an academic vacuum-- that was still interesting. More about the practice side of it.
First, I am an introverted person by nature, although have become less so at least among people I know. Particularly among people I don't know. Unless I have a stated purpose or easily-identifiable relation or reason to talk to a stranger, I find it very hard to strike up a conversation with people I do not know. Basically, I am not the person who will be going to a cocktail with a room full of strangers, and start just talking to everyone. I am more like the person hanging out by the food, trying to look like I have a purpose, and not awkward. But, particularly in today's sucky job market, one of the keys to successful launching out of law school, is "networking." Oh man, did Northwestern push the networking thing. With good reason, granted. I can't tell you how many networking events or workshops I went to, particularly during the first term. Granted, it was probably good for me-- I actually noticed an improvement and getting over the awkwardness of the situation. But I never really liked it. I guess I just got better at masking how uncomfortable I was, and still am, and "faking it". Like seriously though, what do you say to someone who is standing behind their firm's table with a bunch of "merch," when the whole point is to just walk up and start talking? Where do you begin. And I started to realize that, particularly to win clients, I would have to do much more of this. Granted, in a formal setting-- like where everyone knows the purpose of the meeting, to get a new client, and there are set expectations and boundaries, I am good to go, and am actually quite comfortable and chatty-- but eh, I started to become uncomfortable with how much networking seemed to be "a thing" in the legal field. I realize that in any field it will be "a thing," that I will have to learn to deal with it, but it just seemed to be a bigger thing here. And for a variety of other reasons, I started to have apprehensions about the business side of it, at least in the private sector.
And just generally, after the novelty of the first term wore off, I started to just get burned on school as school. I had never really had a break and done something else, and for the whole time had been pretty motivated and hard on myself to do well. I am kind of a serious person, and never really hardcore goofed off in college. I started really regretting not doing something "between pictures" for a year or two, as the vast majority of my peers had. It seemed to give them a real focus. And just generally, a break. Before Senior year, I had seriously considered taking a year and going to be an au pair in Norway. From summer jobs, I had experience in child care, and it seemed like a cool (no pun intended) way to see a new place and reconnect/discover my latent heritage. But, I was convinced out of it, because it wasn't a "real" job that would "look good" to law schools. In retrospect, I really regret not doing that.
But I digress. Anyway, I started seeing my graduated friends from college, who had stayed in the area and had jobs, and I started to become, and still am, envious of the fact that, by and large (with occasional exceptions that happen in every job), when they went home at 5 or 6 o'clock, they did not have to worry about doing work until the next day. Work was done during work hours. The weekends were free. While I certainly had free time, and don't lock myself inside studying 24/7, I envy the fact that they don't really have that voice in the back of the head constantly reminding me of the reading I need to get done and should be doing, or spending a fun Saturday with the knowledge that I will be in all day Sunday getting a CLR brief done. They mostly don't have to accomplish anything when they get home at night. I want that, and started to feel that, going from school to law school, to practicing law, I will never have that, not even for a year or two, as it is quite well known that lawyers work a) loooong hours at the office including weekends and/or b) take their work home with them. I have nothing against working hard-- in fact, I think it is the only way to work when you are working. But for just once, I would like that work to really be done for the day, at the end of the day, so I can just go home with a clean conscious.
So, the work started seeming tedious, and I really started losing motivation. I have had the "doldrums," as I call them, before, usually right before finals, as kind of a mental rebellion against the impending doom, but I always managed to get over it quickly and just "do" it, because I had an overall horizon goal I was getting to, and that I wanted. Here, for the first time, I started questioning if the "horizon"I was working towards was what I wanted, at least right now. I began to feel that I had been blazing along the path of what I thought I wanted, and just went go-go-go, without slowing down a bit to take assessment of my situation. And I started to regret it. I started getting behind in work, but it really stopped bothering me. As finals drew nearer, I studied, but hardly in a motivated fashion, as I just got so over the constant stress and pressure of grades and GPA ruling my life. I honestly was and am saying, whatever happens, happens. This from the person who spent much energy in college trying to keep up with the reading, did so mostly successfully, and when I didn't, felt super guilty about it. This from the person who, for as long as I could remember, had to hardcore rationalize with myself when I got a B+.
I also started to have doubts about why I was doing this in the first place. As I said, my desire to go to law school stemmed in a large part from my becoming a political person, and strong feelings about current events. Basically, I started paying attention to my surroundings, and didn't like a lot of what I saw. So, I thought going to law school and fighting the good fight, so to speak, would be a constructive and productive way to use this new found energy. But I started to realize that a lot of this energy was negative energy. I went to school because I was mad. Paying attention to the issues I wanted to combat, made me angry. Reading politics, made me angry. Now, as anyone who knows me would tell you, I am not afraid of conflict, and don't mind standing my ground and fighting, when necessary or warranted. But as much as I cared about the reasons that drove me to school in the first place, I started finding out that I am not one of those activist types who can turn their anger or indignation into positive energy for change. To me, it remained negative energy. And I noticed that I couldn't really "leave it at the office," either. I started to wonder if spending 60+ hours a week in an adversary system, fighting, would be healthy or happy in the long run.
None of this was helped, either, by the fact that somewhere around mid-February, my immune system decided to essentially stop doing its damn job. Since about junior year of college, I have had some ongoing health issues with my digestive track, and this last November, I was diagnosed with some sleep disorder akin to narcolepsy (sans the all-of-a-sudden, fall-down-right-there-randomly aspect) (I actually cannot remember what it is called; I probably should figure that one out). It started with the stomach flu, which I probably got from pulling my first all-nighter after a VERY stressful and FUBAR'd week to get a CKR brief done for class. So, I had stomach flu for four days, didn't eat solid food for three. Still managed to go to class, although getting work done (work I was already behind on due to the aforementioned brief)... didn't happen.
So, about a day after I finally got over the fricking flu, I started to notice that the area around my tailbone started to ache. Having banged up my tailbone before, I figured I just bruised it again somehow, although I had no idea how since I had spent the prior four days essentially lying on the couch with the aforementioned stomach flu. But, over the weekend (I distinctly remember this starting on a Friday) it got really, really painful, like to the point that I bought one of those neck rest donut things meant for long flights, and used it to sit on since I could't put pressure on the area without intense pain. I even kind of started waddling, because normal walking hurt. Finally, on the following Monday, I couldn't take it any more and got a doctor's appointment at student health services. I remember because the appointment was the same afternoon that Eric Holder came to speak. An actually important foreign policy speech that would have been much more interesting to me if I wasn't a point of being barely able to sit. Anyway, the doc at the appointment took one look at the tailbone area, and sent me down to the ER (the student health services is within the massive Memorial Hospital complex, I guess unsurprisingly). Without getting into gory details, I had an infection that had to be dealt with. So that took a few hours (actually for a big city hospital, I was duly impressed at the in-out time; I have waited wayyyy longer in most suburban ER rooms, which are in theory serving fewer people), and then I had to come back a few days later to the ER to get it checked. Fun! I had a brief respite over my two-week spring break, which was actually awesome. I went skiing with my dad and a college buddy of his, and while I was skiing (in Idaho), I felt healthier than I had in a long while.
Buuuuuut, that didn't last long. Within a week of returning to school, I had strep throat and a 101 fever. I missed 2.5 days of school, which I hardly ever do. I got over it with the antibiotics...or so I thought. About 2.5 weeks from first getting strep, and after like a week of feeling normal, guess what? I got strep again!! Yay! And of course, I was coming down with it on the day of my first final, for Con Law. I managed to get through the test, although I think I was starting to get feverish towards the end (sorry prof. if the last third of my exam doesn't make sense or is highly rambling... not my intentions). By the end of the day I had a 102 fever, and the next day headed back to the doc for more drugs. And again, I spent 2.5 days essentially in bed. All of this, of course, after having survived all of elementary, middle, and high school and college, and countless numbers of those "your child has been exposed to strep" notes schools send home, without contracting strep. So of course it hit now. So, in addition to being mentally exhausted, I was becoming and am literally physically worn out. Did not help my general outlook on law school, or school in general, because the last thing you want to be worrying about when you are huddled on a couch with extreme nausea, or sweating out a triple-digit fever, is the work you are going to get behind on, and wondering/debating if you can possibly pull it together and make it into class for the day.
All of this sort of came to a head over Spring Break, even before the strep attacks. One night after skiing, while my dad was asleep, I wrote down all my thoughts and doubts and frustrations on paper, mostly for myself. I just needed to get it out. It had been swimming in my head for weeks, it needed to come out. After the first bout of strep, I finally became like totally over the school thing, and really needed a break. In a moment of severe frustration, I sent the thing I had typed and saved on my computer over break, to my dad (after having cleaned it up considerably... the first version used the "F" word quite liberally). I then spent the next couple weeks talking over my frustrations and concerns with my dad, basically saying that I think I need to take a leave of absence from school for a year. Mostly to a) give my body a rest and hopefully get my immune system to function again, which is hard to do in the high-stress environment of law school, b) take time away from school, because I just can't deal with school any more and doing the whole school/homework/class/test/paper/grade stress thing that I have been doing essentially for the last 12 years non-stop (elementary school doesn't really count), c) give me time and some distance to figure out what direction I want to go in, to see if law is really that direction, before I pour any more of my future money (through government loans for tuition) or my parents' and aunt's money for living expenses into this endeavor, which is not inconsequential. If it were just me... I would feel less bad. But I hate...hate the idea of wasting other peoples' time and money, particularly of those who care about me, who have supported me, and have been super generous with supporting my education. My dad was not receptive to this, though, and essentially advised me to put this out of my mind until after finals, because it is a "distraction." Although we were able to have rational, calm conversations about it. I initially made the decision to not speak of this with my mom because I figured it she wouldn't approve. And since my mom and I are both very stubborn people who can become entrenched when arguing, I figured it would be hard to maintain a calm and rational conversation, so I just didn't want to go there.
I told my dad that I had been speaking with an administrator at school; I know she is a professor, but she also has some kind of administrative title. I don't know what it exactly is, but she is the one who runs all the workshops they sent us 1Ls to during the first term, to learn how to brief cases, outline for the test, and write timed exams. She also meets with 1Ls, and essentially is the one to talk us down from whatever N00B law school cliff we are at the edge of.
What I didn't tell him was that I had already been applying to actual real-people, full time jobs. At this point, I have probably hit about 20 applications. When I was having my "come to Jesus" moment during Spring Break, I thought about what did make me happy and interested. I have always been a huuuge history geek, particularly ancient history. I became obsessed with Ancient Egypt when I was 10, after the Prince of Egypt came out in theaters (in retrospect, "Egypt is awesome!" was probably not the intended moral of that story, but whatever). In college this morphed into interest in art history and visual culture geek-outing. I took up the major after I found I had a knack for it, and actually became quite interested in how art and cultural production, reflects the people creating it and the society in which they operate. It is like a window into another world. I started spending more time in museums. I wrote a lot of research papers, which I really liked doing. I liked that the research was multifaceted; not just reading books, but looking at images, sometimes in person. I was able to hardcore geek out on my Senior Thesis, which was about a (very) niche area of ancient Egyptian art. I really liked it, but I also knew that I did not really want to become a professor. I like research, but I know myself, and I am not a good teacher, and never will be.
So, I started to think about museum work. Curating and related research started to really make sense to me; I looked it up online, and was astounded to find that there actually were jobs...more than I thought. They all required Masters or PhDs though, so I thought about applying to grad school instead. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that no matter what I decide to do, I need to not be in school right now, and need to take some time to figure which path will be best for me. So, I started applying to jobs I thought might help give me some insight. First I applied to a bunch of jobs at the Art Institute, the Field Museum and the Oriental Institute at UChicago. Some of the jobs I was more qualified for than others, so we shall see. But, knowing I really needed to get out, I also started to branch out and apply to mostly administrative jobs either at other local non-profits (local theaters and cultural organizations), and academia type jobs at various institutions here. They all sounded very interesting, and I thought I would be qualified for them (in varying degrees), and they all were in rather academic or cultural settings, which speaks to my interests. So far no interview requests yet, but I will keep my fingers crossed. I really want to work. My plan so far is essentially, if I don't get any job offers, go back for a second straight year of school. If I do get an offer, take time off for awhile, and reassess my situation. I feel like to take this kind of a big step, I need a job lined up that is more than working as a waitress. I need a job that gives me a "feel" for things, otherwise taking the time is pointless. For the summer anyway, I am slated to a legal internship in NYC. That should be cool, at least, and will give me good context for law school vs actual doing law, and what I think about it.
Anyway, the most recent update, is that this weekend, the shit finally hit the fan with my family about all this, and other more deep-seated issues. Some backstory: I live with my boyfriend, who I met as a freshman, and we have been going out since the end of that year. He works in the city. Initially, he had is own room in an apartment with some crazy roommates, on the Northwest side of town. It took him 40 minutes to get to my place, which is downtown. He pretty much just ended up staying 98% of the time with me, overnight and all, because it was just a more pleasant arrangement for all involved. After several months of this, I finally told him to stop wasting the $400 on the apartment he was never in, and move in. We had kind of been keeping this up because we didn't want to "officially" move in, because my parents (who are paying for the place as school living expense)most definitely wouldn't approve, for a variety of complex reasons. I was afraid of telling them-- I was afraid of getting in trouble, of getting my boyfriend in trouble. And I wasn't sure what would happen if I told them. So, keeping my boyfriend's apartment seem less like we were concealing *actual* living together. But, it was stupid and an economic waste. (NB to any conservative types reading this, yeah yeah "living in sin" blah blah, I will get to my whole "being my own master" section in a bit; judge as you want, I don't actually give a damn). So, for the months he has been living with me, I essentially acted with my parents like when he was over, he was "visiting."
Well, anyway, you know how I said I am going to NYC for a summer job? My mom, quite legitimately since my parents are the ones paying for this, said that she might want to come out and use the place as a "pied a terre" to hang out in chicago while I am away. So, for the last three months, I had been stressing profusely about how I was going to get my boyfriend's stuff out (including now a piano), and make it seem like he didn't live here full time. My boyfriend travels a lot for long periods of time for his job, and starting tomorrow will be gone for 6 weeks. So this last Sunday, I was running around like a crazy person, trying to intricately plot which of his things could stay and which had to go, so I could plausibly claim he didn't live here, in case Mom actually did come out. I tore the apartment apart, which is filled with his books, his movies, his music. It was nuts. I was being completely paranoid. And in the middle of the madness, I had an epiphany: this was bullshit. This was the kind of stuff you see on stupid ridiculous sitcoms. I shouldn't have to hide the fact that my boyfriend is living with me. I was doing it to please and placate my parents. But I am not a wild crazy person, I don't go out and "get crunk" every night, in fact I pretty much never do. I am not involved in drugs or anything illegal. I am actually a fairly calm and responsible adult, capable of making my own decisions, and I shouldn't have to hide a meaningful part of my life from my parents. I realized that I am in fact an adult, albeit an admittedly young and inexperienced one. I realized that as an adult, instead of spending my time worrying about pleasing or disappoint other people-- including my parents-- I need to start worrying about not displeasing or disappointing myself. And I realized that, I need to start drawing the line in the sand, where parental (or really, any person's) advice becomes just that-- advice, preference, and not dictates or mandates.
So, I stopped in the middle of what I was doing, picked up the phone and called my mom. I told her first that I had a couple things to tell her, and that she wasn't going to like them, but I am going to do my thing, and needed to tell her. I first told her about the living situation. It was hard to tell on the phone how she reacted, because she was surprisingly calmer in tone than expected. Maybe it is a sign of some minimal adult parity that we didn't end up in a huge emotional argument/shouting match. She seemed less upset about it than I thought-- only asking if he had been paying rent. I said no, truthfully. Like, how would I explain to my mother-- who can see/has access to the joint account where I keep my moving expense $$-- why all of a sudden only idk, $1000 was coming out each month, and not the full $1300 (which reminds me, rent is due. Need to pay tomorrow). She seemed more upset about what I told her next, namely all of the stuff about school/job described above, which I had only discussed with my dad. I told her I met with the 1L administrator, and that my plan was to take a leave of absence if I could find a good job in the city; if not, I would go straight through to my second year. And that was the plan, and I am sticking to it. She, unsurprisingly, was not happy. There really isn't much more to say, because the conversation kind of just went in circles from there.
Later that evening, though, I found out something that did NOT make me happy. At all. So, both my parents have their own email accounts-- dad at work, mom from Yahoo. But, the family has a joint email account of sorts that we set up literally when I was 10, from our ISP. I literally was the one to pick both the email name, and the password. Because everyone now has their own personal email address, it doesn't get used much-- when it does, it is basically just my mom who uses it for sending certain emails to people. But, everyone still has the password, it is still technically "joint." I got curious whether my mom would be angry at Dad for not telling her about our prior conversations about my future, etc., and send him an email demanding to know what was going on. So, I signed into the email account.
Mom didn't email dad, but...wait for it... she DID email the counselor/administrative lady that I had talked to about taking a leave, as I had mentioned on the phone that I had talked to her. She emailed her to check in on my "situation" because she was "concerned." Are you kidding me? Seriously, are you freaking kidding me? This is not high school, I am not 14, and you do NOT need to call my school, behind my back, to check in on me. I am 23 years old and in pre-professional school. Many of my peers are in their 30s. I am not a child who cannot handle my own problems, and I feel very, very, significantly violated that my mom was being this intrusive. Sorry, but I am trying to make informed rational decisions. I think I might take time off from school, not that I might go join a prostitution ring. I don't think you need to call my freaking school. What is worse, apparently the admin lady referred my parents to the Dean of Students of the freaking law school, and they BOTH talked to him on the phone (which he relayed to me in an email on an unrelated matter). Literally, there are no words. I was unsurprisingly, pissed. I still am. This is a huge violation of my privacy, my space, and frankly my autonomy as an competent individual. I sent my mom an email-- which my boyfriend vetted as respectable-- admitting I read her email to the school, and that I felt extremely intruded upon, and that this was NOT appropriate action by parents of an ADULT child. The response was somewhat condescending, and I won't get into it here. She said something along the lines of, "we were only trying to find out your options about a leave of absence, can you be readmitted, etc etc." Which I obviously had already asked all about when I went in to speak with the admin, and could have just answered if she had asked me.
I am still actually very upset and angry about this, as you can imagine. Like, I haven't spoken to my Mom or Dad since Sunday, and honestly, unless they call I probably won't until after finals. I am supposed to fly home next Wednesday to visit for a couple weeks before I head to NY, but honestly I am starting to feel really uncomfortable about it. Because this little episode has shown me that, at least facially, my parents don't yet see me as competent adult. Despite my high achievement in school, my general level of responsibility, the fact that I am living in an apartment in a major city, and the fact that I never once got into any of the "bad stuff" growing up, it seems my parents think I still need protecting. I am sure they would protest, but as the cliche goes, actions speak louder than words.
I understand that this all comes from a good place-- my parents have generally been supportive of me, and help me out in immense and innumerable ways, and are just worried about me and don't want me ending up under a bridge or something. I get all that, and I really do appreciate it, and what they have done for me over the years. I very rarely wanted for anything, really. They just don't want me to make an irrevocable mistake, and think the best course of action is to stay the course. Their heart is in the right place, but the execution is all wrong. Yes, I will always need their advice, and will turn to them. But at this stage, their input is-- or should be anyway-- just that, advice, which I either take or don't, to my ultimate benefit or detriment. There is a difference between "If I were you I would do X," but also acknowledging that it is my ultimate decision, and mine rightly to make, and phrasing things as a command like "Just do X," or "Do Y," or "You must do Z." And checking up on me like mom did, that crosses way too many lines I can't even count. As I explained in my email to my mom, what I need as an adult child is advice, not protection. There is a difference, and it needs to be respected. What hurt me the most about this whole thing, was that I got the sense that they don't respect me as an adult. With them, I am stuck in perpetual childhood (or, probably more accurately, adolescence). That I am not seen by them as a competent adult, even after graduating with honors and latin honors, even after persevering my way into a good law school on my own initiative, that hurts. A lot. It is upsetting not to have your parents' full respect. The worst part is, I don't know why. I don't think I have ever really given them a reason-- beyond maybe some stupid small stuff from high school-- to think I am foolish or incompetent. I have generally been successful and mundane. And they often speak of how proud they are of me. But this episode, and the response from my mom that, since I am thinking of slowing things down a bit and reevaluating my situation before I go on, contrary to what my parents think is best, I am now "my own worst enemy," as per the email, are showing otherwise.
This whole episode has actually made me more determined to get a job and get financially independent before I finish school. Right now, since the 'rents are footing some of the bill, I do feel some kind of obligation to "tow the party line," even though intellectually I know I shouldn't really have to. But I feel that financial independence is and will be the only real way to severe the final umbilical cord, as it were. I feel like it is the only way my attempts to draw some boundaries will be respected. The only way that I can live without having to fight to validate my choices and my existence. To not be invaded in my existence. I love and do respect my parents, but I don't know how else to get through to them that the nature of our relationship has to change and evolve now that I am an adult. That is the natural order and progression of things, and it is frankly weird that they are still being involved at the kind of level exhibited above.
So, that's pretty much everything up-to-date. The beginning of my foray into the "quarter-life crisis" and my attempts to make sense of it all. In regards to my parents, eh I dunno what the current status is. I haven't spoken to them since Sunday. Other than the brief email exchange between my mom and I on Sunday, no email communications of substance. But, mom had emailed me a couple of the chain email things she gets, which is pretty normal. I did email my dad about something-- forwarding him something stupid and political that we can both agree on, and asking his opinion. So far no response today. I have noooo idea where I stand with him. He knows about the law school thing, but didn't know about all the applications, and the boyfriend thing. Will be interesting I am sure. Will keep you posted.
Signing off for the night...because it is actually morning now 0_o
