So…it’s spring break. And though I enjoy white-sand beaches and pink-umbrella’d drinks as much as the next law student, this year I thought I’d do something different during the next-to-last week I’ll ever have off. In my life. Ever. So, instead of jetting off to the Caribbean or rolling on down to Mexico, I decided to spend a relaxing week in an exotic location just a bit off the beaten path, a place full of romance and mystery, a place that I like to call: The offices of the Texas Law Review.
Strangely enough, I wasn’t the only one to make that vacation decision. Roughly twenty-five of my fellow 2L’s chose Lexis and Westlaw over Carlos and Charlie, and are stuck here for the entire week of spring break, a situation that might be depressing, were it not Yours Truly in charge of planning the week’s schedule. Vacation duty normally consists of endless bluebook cite checks and countless hours of proofreading. But with Volume 84’s new motto—Texas Law Review: We Put the “TLR” in “Holy Shit That Guy Just Made Out With My Mom and I Think He’s on TLR”—coming soon to a t-shirt near you, it seemed like we could crank up the PartyMeter in Journalville.
For starters, the mood needed to be lifted, which for me means only one thing: Bouncy Castle. It was hard to get it in the building, and it’s sort of rubbing up against a few skylights, but nothing soothes the weary mind like jumping up and down in a twenty-foot-high inflatable castle for a few minutes. Well, nothing, that is, except maybe jumping up and down in said castle while rocking out to the sounds of Neil-fucking-Diamond, who just happened to be in town and was willing to play a few tunes for us. (Though not technically a graduate of UT law—or any other law school, for that matter—Mr. Diamond does teach a few CLE classes: one on Advanced Topics in Federal Criminal Procedure and another on Rocking Me Unbelievably Hard). So, yeah. That was fun.
But as most of you know, Bouncy Castle Bouncing burns an enormous number of calories. So choosing this week’s catering menu wisely was extremely important. Though we started out with your standard, after-school meeting fare—truffle-encrusted beef tenderloin on Monday, saffron-dipped lobster tails on Tuesday, and both accompanied only by California wines—we’ve really started to kick things up in the middle of the week. Today we had a few of the articles editors bring in a wild boar—a live one—which was then let loose on the fourth floor of the law school and hunted for nearly three hours before being slain by an associate editor with a pen-knife. We roasted it on a spit in the Dean’s office. It was the best wild boar I'd ever had. Tomorrow we’re thinking about just giving people blank checks made out to local eateries. Or maybe Happy Meals filled with gold doubloons. We’re not sure.
After all of the bouncing is done, and the food is gone, most of my colleagues choose to relax. Some take naps; a few catch up on their correspondence; inevitably, some jackass brings out a guitar and starts playing the one John Mayer song he knows. It’s basically a lot like the freshman dorm, only with better coffee. And I’m happy to be here. Because although Mexico may be warm, and the Caribbean may be beautiful, we're creating law school memories that will last a lifetime.