I didn’t want it to happen, but it did.

At the start of this first week of law school, I was too terrified to speak up in class. Over the course of the week, however, I evolved from thinking about raising my hand to actually raising it above my head to reluctantly volunteer information.

That’s not necessarily a good thing.

If people tell you that law school work is a piece of cake, they’re lying. There’s reading. Tons and tons of reading.

But Teenie Me says she’s got it down. She read the first week’s worth of homework over the weekend. Yeah. She’s a gunner.

The Blawgirl is still catching up.

Head on over to The Shark to read about The Blawgirl’s first day of law school orientation!

One of my favorite things to do when I was younger was watch design shows, especially the ones that had episodes that discussed how to deliver a one-two punch of functionality and form in a small space. From those shows, I learned that in small spaces – and especially in studio apartments – you need to define areas based on their functions.

Apparently, doing so will make even a teensy space feel big.

I’m not sure exactly what law school will bring when I get started at orientation next Wednesday. I won’t get my schedule until then. I don’t know what to expect of the teachers I get. I don’t know if I’m going to kill myself over the work load.

The only thing I do know for certain is I’m going to be well caffeinated during the course of the next year.

Teenie me is like me only smaller. Much, much smaller. In all other regards, we are strikingly similar.

We both wear glasses on occasion. We both have an affinity for messenger-type, cross-shoulder bags. We both love ginormous dogs. We both love chocolate, cheese and the TV show “Chuck”. We both think penguins – or “pengins” as Teenie calls them – have an evil, secret plan to take over the world.

Somewhere in the back of all our closets is a yearbook containing a photo that we hope will never see the light of day. Let’s call it the Bill Compton (or any other hunky vampire hearthrob, and, sorry, Edward Cullen doesn’t count) of yearbook pics.

But unlike Sexy Bill, these photos are decidely unsexy: your hair doesn’t fit in the frame, you blinked at a bad time, you sneeze at a bad time, you wonder whether you left the crimping iron on in the bathroom, etc.

After a bajillion and a half trips to Target, three local Goodwillls, Walmart, Ross Dress for Less and Marshall’s, and after sanding, priming and painting at least three pieces of old furniture, I have finally settled into the humble abode I will be calling home for, hopefully, the next three years.