Houston, Texas. 1800 miles and a world away from where I grew up. My father lived in San Antonio, but he was on the road for weeks at a time as a cross-country truck driver. Houston had been the hub of gymnastics when I was growing up, a sport I loved and still do.
The law schools in Houston were very good. I was getting a divorce. I was living in my small hometown. I needed a change. I needed a goal. I needed a life.
In October 2001, I made the decision to begin studying for the Law School Admission Test. I told no one that I was pursuing admission to law school except those who needed to know – my parents, my best friend, my professional references for admission. This was a very small group of people who were there from the beginning.
I was hoping for admission to the Fall 2002 class. This was going to be daunting. Most of the time, you should have your file complete, including the LSAT, by December of the previous year at the latest. I wasn't even going to take the LSAT until February. I was praying hard that I would even be considered for the entering class of 2002. I received my LSAT score in March and it was good enough for both the schools I applied to in Houston. My application was complete and I crossed my fingers.
Every day was a journey to the post office, hoping for “the envelope.” Finally, in April, I received the envelope from South Texas College of Law: “Congratulations and welcome to the class of 2005.” RELIEF! I was in. I WAS IN! South Texas was my second choice, University of Houston Law Center was my first. But, no matter what, I was going to law school! I couldn’t have been more elated.
My best friend got married in May 2002 and I was her maid of honor. I was there for a couple of days prior to the wedding to help her out with wedding stuff. It was during that time that I received an e-mail from the University of Houston congratulating me on my admission. TWO FOR TWO!!
I returned from her wedding and informed my boss that I would be quitting to move and attend law school. I couldn't believe it. I was moving to Houston, a city where I knew no one except a friend of the family and we did not know each other that well. But I was ready for the adventure. My divorce was final in June 2002, I called the moving company, packed up my townhouse, quit my job, and got in the car. My mother was driving me to San Francisco where she would visit with her sister and I would catch the plane to Houston. I got on the plane in July 2002 knowing that my entire life would change when it touched down in Houston...
Stay tuned for the next installment of 10 years!