Preparing for Law School III

Please see my original post here.

Mailing the seat deposit to my chosen school was the final act.

I had spent months preparing for the Law School Admissions Test, weeks on my application essay. I laid out my acceptance letters and compared the financial aid packages. I'd finished everything. LSAT; FAFSA; LORs to LSAC; it was all done. After a year of balancing sequential pieces of the law school application process, I'd arrived at a sudden lull. This waiting business was no good.

Lots of websites told me that I didn't have to do anything except enjoy my last free summer. Much of the internet, in fact, told me that I couldn't do anything to prepare for law school. That advice wasn't true. I did some things to get ready that did help me transition to law school.

I read a really great book: 1L of a Ride: A Well-Traveled Professor's Roadmap to Success in the First Year of Law School, ISBN: 978-0-314-19483-1, by Andrew J. McClurg. If you're going to read one prep book, read this one. (See my review here.) Professor McClurg offers lots of really fantastic practical tips about how to be an effective student. Of all the tips offered in 1L of a Ride, the one that I'd swear by most is this: "[K]eep all of your course materials together in one place. [...] One efficient...way to do it is by putting all your materials for each course into a separate three-ring binder notebook." (McClurg, p. 167.) If you keep all of your notes on your laptop, you may only need one binder for all of your materials (but for the love of god, back up everything!). If you need to see things on paper, as I do, or you take your notes longhand, a binder is a great way of staying organized. Some of my classmates keep notes in spiral notebooks and some students just keep everything in a folder. I swear by my three-ring binders. (And in the beginning you're going to think you don't need the three-inch binder that McClurg recommends. Like nearly all first week first impressions, you're wrong.)

I then moved on to Succeeding in Law School, ISBN 1-59460-189-5, by Herbert N. Ramy. Professor Ramy's book has more specific academic advice, which isn't surprising since he's the director of his university's Academic Support Program. Succeeding in Law School has actual practice exercises: try out writing a case brief; answer some multiple choice questions; change some hypotheticals. If you're going to read two books; grab this one. It's a really good second preparation book; we're moving from general to specific here.

The third book I read is 1000 Days to the Bar: But the Practice of Law begins Now, ISBN 0-8377-3726-5, by Dennis J. Tonsing. As with anything, take Profesor Tonsing's advice with a grain of salt. His book is the most specific of the three books I read and therefore quite helpful in the awful waiting-game days just before the start of the semester, but don't let Tonsing scare you. His proscription of laughter in the classroom is unwarranted. It's true that you should never laugh at a student who is struggling, but it's completely false to say that "smiles are usually the most appropriate responses to the humorous professorial comment." (Tonsing, p. 46.) It's also not true that "humorous remarks made by fellow students...are often out of place." Id. Law is a serious profession but the law school classroom is probably the place where I laugh the most. Students do often make funny and completely appropriate jokes. Also--surprise!--your professor may be one of the wittiest people you meet in school. Class isn't comedy hour but there is room for laughter when it's appropriate (and you'll know when it's appropriate).

Now, in the summer before law school try to cram in as much of the things you really enjoy as possible. If you're a reader, grab some fiction. (I re-read the entire Harry Potter series.) If you're a runner, train for a last race. You're about to become very, very busy and your past life will almost completely drop away from you in spite of your best intentions. Try to relax. Law school is hard but not impossible. The admissions committee believes you can do this and you'll do well to start believing them ASAP.

Did you find everything ok?

Please see my original post here.

It seems that everyone's celebrating the barcode patent's 57th anniversary. At NPR's "All Tech Considered" blog Eyder Peralta reminisces about barcode scanners. Referring to them as "dangerous, crisscrossing red lines," Peralta describes laser beam readers as forbidden; mythical; mysterious.

Google honored the patent's anniversary by changing its logo (the "Google Doodle") to this:



I'm told that the above barcode translates to the word "Google" in something called Code 128.

The barcode-impassioned can go here to turn a word (or whatever) into a barcode. The Washington Post discusses the barcode's history in this article. On October 7, 2009, at 4:54 pm the search term "make your own barcode" was number four on Google Trends's top ten list. And on and on and on. I get it; you don't understand how the thing works but you love that it does.

I don't share your fascination.

I've already discussed my struggles with underemployment. Cashiering was by far the underest underemployment that's ever employed me. Mind-numbing doesn't even come close to describing it. If you've done it, you know. Standing in one place for hours and watching that red light find the black lines is...endless. Knees; arches; back; head: everything hurts. If you've done it, you know. Remember how all you wanted to do after your shift was go home and shut out the noise? Remember how at the end of the day you just couldn't force that smile any more? Remember how you'd grab an extra shift even when all you wanted to do was sleep in on Sunday morning, but you took the shift because you needed the money that much? If you've done it, you know.

That red light? It's not all that incomprehensible. It's a laser attached to a computer, and now we know there's a patent for it. If you want mysterious, ask me how I paid my rent on a base wage of $7.15 an hour. There's no doodle for that.

Justice Scalia, how could you?

Please see my original post here.

Excuse me, Justice Antonin Scalia?

The WSJ notes here that the Supreme Court justices granted interviews to C-SPAN reporters (links and transcripts are not yet available). While the interviews, filmed as part of the network's "Supreme Court Week," have not yet been aired, some pieces of transcripts have made it out.

The WSJ Blog quotes Scalia as follows:

Well, you know, two chiefs ago, Chief Justice Burger, used to complain about the low quality of counsel. I used to have just the opposite reaction. I used to be disappointed that so many of the best minds in the country were being devoted to this enterprise.

I mean there’d be a, you know, a defense or public defender from Podunk, you know, and this woman is really brilliant, you know. Why isn’t she out inventing the automobile or, you know, doing something productive for this society?

I mean lawyers, after all, don’t produce anything. They enable other people to produce and to go on with their lives efficiently and in an atmosphere of freedom. That’s important, but it doesn’t put food on the table and there have to be other people who are doing that. And I worry that we are devoting too many of our very best minds to this enterprise.

And they appear here in the Court, I mean, even the ones who will only argue here once and will never come again. I’m usually impressed with how good they are. Sometimes you get one who’s not so good. But, no, by and large I don’t have any complaint about the quality of counsel, except maybe we’re wasting some of our best minds.

Professor Chris Lund notes on PrawfsBlawg that "I was...amused by the amount of "you knows" in Justice Scalia's remarks -- he talks like an ordinary guy."

Ok, but maybe there are other things we should be talking about here. Like: Justice Scalia, how could you say such a thing?

The Supreme Court interprets the laws of the United States. We're talking about the UNITED STATES CONSTITUTION. Those justices determine our rights and responsibilities; their rulings address privacy, due process, rights against discrimination, voting rights, and dozens or hundreds or thousands of other rights afforded United States citizens. If a lawyer is bright enough to get a case before the Supreme Court and sharp enough to argue the case there, what better use of that person's time can we possibly imagine? Someone else will invent the automobile; this person's calling is the law.

Justice Scalia, you have your faults but you are among the best minds in our country. How can you so denounce those who share your profession?

Preparing for the LSAT

[Please see my original post here.]

We can argue about the merits of using a test score to determine whether an individual has the aptitude for law school. We can argue until December or February or June or September but if you want to go to law school you're going to take that test. And the LSAT is not an easy test. It's long and it's created to be challenging and it uses both sides of the test-taker's brain, sometimes simultaneously. If you want to take it only once, and you want to get into the law school of your choice, and you want to maybe earn a scholarship, you probably want to be ready on test day.

So you've made the choice. You've signed up for the LSAT. You've got your ticket. You know where your testing center is and now maybe you're just going to wait. If that's what you want to do, that's fine. You don't need to keep reading here. But if you're as worried as I was about taking the LSAT, you probably want to do something to get ready. My score wasn't as chart-topping but it was high enough to get me to law school and I did well enough on the LSAT that I didn't take it again. I'm obviously not an expert, and I certainly didn't ace the test, but I can tell you what I did that seemed to work for me.

So what do you do now?

Buy a book. Seriously; go to a bookstore and buy an LSAT prep book. Or two. When you're in law school you're going to spend thousands of dollars on books. You're going to spend tens of thousands of dollars on tuition. You're going to pay for study aids and student bar association dues and you're going to pay to prepare for and take the bar exam. If you don't do well on your first go at the LSAT, you will probably pay to take it again. Just spend the $20 and get an LSAT prep book. The people who write the books are not trying to rob you; they're trying to help you.

Now use the book. First read the chapters about how to approach the exam as a whole and each section individually. Treasure the tips and memorize them. I swear: they will make a difference when you take the exam.

Now practice. Work the untimed practice sections and check your answers. Use the margins of the page to do your work; you probably won't get scrap paper when you take the exam. Work all of the practice questions. Watch yourself get better and faster at answering them.

Then start taking full practice exams. Time yourself, sit in a quiet place, and take an entire practice exam in one go. Do you see how unprepared you are for this test? Don't worry about it; just keep practicing. Make another go at a practice exam, and another. Order the old LSATs from LSAC. When you receive them, use them. Take them from start to finish; time yourself and check your answers.

When test day comes, try to relax (but not completely. Having some adrenaline in your system will keep you alert. Adrenaline kept me going even through the last section, when my brain was exhausted.) Dress in layers and bring lots of sharp pencils and erasers. You'll do the best you can do, and that's the best you can hope for.

Too cool for law school?

Please see my original post here.


I'm realizing that I've been complaining a lot here. So it's time to talk about the law school things that I love.

• I am completely blown away by the fact that I can now read a hypothetical situation and argue both sides of a case. I'm pretty sure I couldn't effectively do that six weeks ago. Perhaps I couldn't even do it ineffectively. Knowing that in six more weeks I may be twice as good at arguing is AWESOME. Watch out world; I'm gonna debate the CRAP out of you. (Also, watch out, friends and family. I'm gonna be really annoying.)


• Law school professors are pretty cool. They're not all hanging-out-on-the-street cool--though some of them are--but my experience is that they're smart and sometimes witty and often compassionate and always intensely invested in my education. They really want me to get this stuff.


• A friend of mine just opted out of an arbitration clause in his cable contract. Two weeks ago I didn't know what an arbitration clause was, and now I know to deny it. Side note: I will never ever sign a contract without reading it again.


• For fun, a classmate and I argued for ten minutes about whether putting coins in a vending machine constitutes acceptance of an offer (is your pop tart a contract?). For FUN.


• I'm surrounded by hundreds of really, really intelligent people. While that is sometimes tough, it's also pretty neat. The law building is a gigantic steaming brain. Being a nerd has never been so normal.

As I wrote here, law school is a crazy, back-and-forth demon drop of a ride. Or it would be if the Demon Drop car was merged like this:




All of this is exquisitely appropriate for me, right now, in this place. It's hard, and it hurts and it's scary. But the guy on the platform checked my shoulder straps and they seem to be locked.

It's because of the unfreezing process

[Please see my original post here.]

You know what? Law school is freaking HARD.

I was pretty naive when I [wrote this post]. Probably I still am. In that previous post I wrote about the academic difficulties that law school brought. I still maintain that studying law requires brain cells that I didn't even know I had (and some I'm not sure I'll ever find). The learning is incredibly tough. But the other thing that's threatening to destroy many of the students in my class is, well, the students in my class.

See, we're all pretty smart. We passed the LSAT and everything. Even got accepted into law school.

Now put all of us in a lecture hall together and see how long we last.

I think I'm may be somewhere near the middle of the pack. I know I'm not going to top out the curve, but I'm pretty sure I won't be at the bottom. I'd love to be number 1 but I don't believe that's going to happen. While I'm not thrilled to be law-school average, I've had worse things in my life. But, see, that's the really tough part about law school: it's excruciating because I'm faced with my shortcomings every single day. Everyone in my class is really smart and even though I work veryveryveryvery hard it seems that the commentators hecklers inner monologue law school gods are rooting for the other guy.

Oho! You think you understand UCC 2-207? You don't know how very wrong you are. Muahaha. But that guy sitting two rows behind you? He's all OVER 2-207. And the woman behind him? She's got 2-207 DOWN and she can recite all rules relating to express and implied warranties. You think you "get" the rules for cases that arise under federal law? Then explain to me why this plaintiff can sue that defendent on a state law claim in New Hampshire when the plaintiff's well-pleaded complaint involves a tort with an embedded federal issue but the case STILL can't make it to federal court. Now tell me why the defendant may have it removed to federal court and how she would go about doing that. Now recite 2-207 again.

Still think you're smart? Because if you do the person sitting in the back snickering might have another thing to say about it. And if you don't think you're smart the person beside that person will probably be the first to agree with you.

This isn't just [about the curve], though that stupid curve does mess with us. It's more about the competitive nature of law students and the discovery that "oh, dear. I'm not the smartest person in the class." It's about insecurities and egos and even though it's great to be surrounded by a large number of really intelligent people it sometimes sucks to be surrounded by a large number of really competitive really intelligent people. In that, it's a lot like [this thing I posted a week ago]. It's a love/hate/love/hate kind of thing.

I suppose if it were different it wouldn't be law school.

The race is on

[Please see my original post here.]

In the beginning was Contracts and Contracts was hard. And I spent nigh all my waking hours on Contracts. And Contracts was hard.

Then cameth CivPro. And CivPro brought complete diversity. And complete diversity was good. And then cameth 28 USC 1441, and 1447, and my head swimmeth.

Seriously; who knew making a federal case of something was such a big deal? I thought Contracts was hard...
...here comes CivPro in the backstretch; Contracts going to the inside....♫