Lent: Giving Up More Than the Frivolous

St. Peter's Basilica - Rome, Italy

Fun fact of the day: I am a Catholic. Oh yes, readers it’s true. I’ve been a Catholic technically all my life, but it wasn’t up until a few years ago that I really believed. In any case, another fun fact of the day: Ash Wednesday was this past Wednesday, which means that Lent is once again upon us.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with what Lent is, essentially it’s a period of self-denial between Ash Wednesday and Easter (roughly 40 days). That self-denial is typically of an activity or pleasure that the person in question particularly enjoys. These can range from things like smoking to drinking soda to cutting out social networking sites.

Over the years, choosing what to give up for Lent proved to be a challenge. Nothing ever felt like it was enough, and it certainly felt nothing like a sacrifice. Everyone around me would pine for whatever they’ve given up, while I’d shrug my shoulders as if to say, “Meh.” It didn’t feel like I was accomplishing much. After all, usually after the forty days were up everyone would go back to doing whatever they had given up. It always seemed rather nonsensical to me.

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Spread the Love!

The card burned in her hand; the lollipop threatening to fall from its loose hold. Its cheesy “Bee Mine” was a bold declaration from her eight year old heart; the lollipop’s “Kiss Me” an absurd proposition—laughable. Still… Too late for regrets.

In the midst of the chaotic noise, she slipped both items separately into his make-shift mailbox. Surprise, surprise: it was filled to the brim.

He walked over to his overflowing box and poured its contents onto a nearby desk. Was it there? Was it there? There it lay–it was beautiful.

When her back was turned to him, he quickly prepared himself. Smiling, he tapped her shoulder. The two little words sat on his tongue, heavy with anticipation.

“Kiss me!” He declared, peeling off the clumsily labeled tape.

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Here’s an Idea: Admit You’re Wrong

Okay, yes I was wrong. I didn’t have my schedule figured out last week. In fact, if I’m being entirely honest, my schedule is still an ambiguous mess. Nevertheless, I promised myself that I would not stray from you lovely readers for too long and so here I am.

As luck would have it though, this post isn’t about my apparent commitment issues. No, today we’re discussing a far more interesting topic and it is on being wrong.

This isn’t particularly innovative on my end, today I happened to attend Kathryn Schultz’s, author of Being Wrong, lecture today at my university. Now, I can’t provide great insight on her book based on the fact that I haven’t read it yet. I can, however, speak in regards to her overall message and it’s this: it’s okay to be wrong.

Personally, it strikes me as a strange lesson to take away, but I do have a bizarre relationship with error. When a mistake isn’t entirely of my own concoction, I have problems owning up to it. If, on the other hand, the mistake is entirely of my original, I have a difficult time letting it go. (Moon Face, anyone?)
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Woo! Winter Quarter!

So as you may have realized by now, my posting schedule for this blog is up in the air. I still have to properly adjust to my new class and work schedule amongst other little obligations that I have to fulfill. For the moment, I know that I will keep posting on Mondays, but I’m still deciding whether the second post of the week will be on Wednesday, Thursday (as it originally was), or Friday. I’ll figure it out by next week and inform you then.

Now it’s time to get to the real topic of this post. I have already hinted at it in the post title and first paragraph, but here’s a question to get you started.

Guess who has been having a stressful, but exciting first week back to school?

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There is No Escaping the Law

Author’s Note: This year, I decided to take it upon myself to read 50 books. Here’s the list of the books I’ve read so far. One down, 49 to go.

Langdell Library

Just today, as I’m typing this, I finished reading One-L by Scott Turow. For those of you who don’t know, it’s an account of a lawyer’s first year at Harvard Law School in the 70′s. Truthfully, no one had recommended it to me but after realizing that law school is an inevitability I thought it was good to get an idea of what it would be like.

See the thing is, I knew law school wasn’t going to be a walk in the park. In my mind, I had prepared myself for countless hours of reading long, dense material and then having to be interrogated by a professor the next day in class. But there is no way that I would be prepared for something of that magnitude in advance–that’s not a possibility.

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