My Friend's Foolproof Plan to Get into Law School

My friend Travis had a funny idea of how he plans to get into law school that I thought I would share:

I have thought of a foolproof plan to get into the law schools that might not otherwise accept me.

Step 1: I will feign my own death. I'm imagining the scenario something like this: I go on a road trip that takes me through some very rural areas during a blizzard. The car breaks down, and I start wandering aimlessly in the snow. The falling snow covers my tracks, making it impossible for the rescuers to find me. They conclude that I froze to death somewhere. Something like that. In reality, I had a friend follow me, and rode back to their house with them, where I will spend the next couple weeks hanging out in the basement and reading Calvin and Hobbes.

Step 2: I make sure that someone notifies all the schools I applied to. They also request that the schools notify them about the acceptance decision, so that they can say, "He had just been accepted to Harvard Law" or whatever, in the eulogy.

Step 3: The law school admissions people, moved to compassion, decide to grant my posthumous admission. I'm dead; what harm can it do?

Step 4: I miraculously reappear, alive, with a remarkable story about being rescued by a family of wolves during the blizzard and living in a cave for a week, answering the Call of the Wild.

Step 5: The law schools feel obligated to let me in, since they said they had admitted me.
It's foolproof! Nothing could possibly go wrong!

Let me know if you have a free basement I can borrow. And lots of Calvin and Hobbes books.

Good bye Semester!

Relief. Euphoria. Exhaustion. Gladness. A bittersweet farewell. Well, mostly sweet. These are a few of my favorite things at the end of a semester. Just a few short hours ago I finished a paper. The paper was not all that well-written mind you, but I got it done. That's what matters. That, and there are no more papers until next fall. But, while I live in peace for this moment, finals looms on the horizon like those deep purple and black storm clouds that stroll in uninvited on a beautifully sunny spring day. I think some of you, if not all might be able to relate. But, why must it be so bittersweet? I mean I should be able to clap my hands together and sing Hallelujah and do back flips (I'm working on the back flips...maybe for graduation, if that ever happens). The semester is done! Shout from the bell tower! Run around Notre Dame with Quasimodo! Victory!

Ah, but then we miss our new friends, our old friends, and perhaps on occasion, even a teacher (cough). We miss the monotony of hours of class and going in and out of consciousness in class, or checking facebook during an important lecture. We miss the soothing ring of that bell when we get into class just in the nick of time. We miss those people in the front row who always know the answer and contribute such wonderfully pertinent things to class like their trip to Maui last winter and how much their cat barfed the night before. We miss it all. Oh the memories. Let us revel. Thank you for letting my parents spent thousands of dollars on this wonderfully life-altering and mind-numbing education. I am so looking forward to Grad school.