To the Bar!

Apologies to Heather and Danny for shamelessly nicking one of their in-jokes, but it had to be done. Especially as my legal career started first!

Hidden amongst the self-publicising material of my last posting was the fact I have now, in fact, graduated from university. This in itself is momentous - it brings to an end four years of education in a strange city slightly further north than I'm used to. No longer will I associate with the merry Geordies and attempt to ape their accent. The Metro will no longer be frequented. And I no longer stalk the hallways of City Campus East like a vengeful bespectacled ghost (minus the haunting parts, as I had a working day which I worked to).

The day after tomorrow, my entire legal education comes to an end when I'm called to the Bar of England and Wales as a barrister at law. For this reason, I'm writing another self-publicising blog post.

I'll be spending the next couple of days in London, staying overnight. Tomorrow night, I'll be taking in Yes, Prime Minister with the rest of the family, before Thursday morning, when the world will, at long last, see me in a wig and gown. In the ceremony at 1pm, I'll stride across Middle Temple Hall's floor and sign my name on the cup board, like so many before me. And thus will my time in law come to an end (or, at least, a hiatus).

And after that, it's off to Scotland for a week. While I'm there, I intend to write several thousand words. My writing has felt stilted of late, and I'm living in hope that a change of scenery will reignite my creativity.

Manners heading south

I've just spent a weekend in London as part of my studies (for want of a better, more accurate word) to become a barrister. A weekend at Middle Temple is always an experience I'd recommend to anyone. Good food, interesting company (even if it is, on occasion, a little pretentious to say the least, especially someone from last year), and a chance to hobnob with the Lord Chief Justice.

Unfortunately, Middle Temple is in London, home to one of the least mannered collection of people in the country.

I'm not sure what it is about the pace of life in the capital, but it just seems to be that decorum, good manners and what have you take second place to getting ahead of everyone else in some way. On the tube, people push, just take seats from those in need, occasionally physically assault someone and fail to apologise. Outside, people do the same and just ignore other people.

Maybe I'm not cut out for life in London if it's like that. But part of me just thinks it's not worth it. Surely you can afford to have manners, even if life is a rat-race. Just a quick 'please' or 'thank you' won't cost a moment of time but will just help to make life that bit more bearable.

And don't do what one woman did to James and aim a proper elbow right at someone and then don't apologise. If you do accidentally clobber someone, at least say sorry rather than ignore the person you've assaulted completely. Magistrates take a dim view of people who walk round clouting people.