About me, if you're wondering

Please see my original post here.



It's been a long haul to law school.

I studied fine arts at Wayne State University in Detroit, Michigan. Ask me about Detroit sometime. I have lots of theories and a few stories but don't really understand the city. Detroit chased me out and I can tell you about that, too.

I always knew I wanted to be a painter. I started taking art classes when I was in elementary school. I kept studying art all the way to college and beyond. I graduated college with some honors and I planned to head to graduate school somewhere on the East Coast. In the meantime, I worked a series of low-paying and mind-numbing jobs and one really great position as a freelance art critic for a local newspaper. Those stories about Detroit kept eating at me.

41 South Street, Quincy, MA, 2nd floor apartment. It was mid-morning on a Saturday and I was turning off a hallway light: this was the moment when I knew it had to be law school. It happened that suddenly. This is neither metaphor nor allegory; it's just the facts.

They ought to give you a box at law school orientation to hold all of your old memories and freedoms. I remember learning the multiplication tables in elementary school and thinking that there was no going back. There was no forgetting how to multiply and there was no going back to being that kid who could only add. (Yes, I was that kind of child.) I don't remember how my mind worked before I learned about affirmative defenses and burdens of proof and mens rea and causation. Those stories from Detroit look different to me now. I wish I had had a box.

I'm studying law at Suffolk University Law School in Boston, Mass. I started a decade later than most law students do. I recommend that route, if it's doable. My academic brain was a bit rusty but my empathetic mind was ready to go. I also save a lot of time by not having to prove anything to anyone except myself.

I have great respect for my classmates who always knew they wanted to be lawyers. Starting down a straight path and continuing to its end is commendable. But a meandering route is also okay.

I am a frayed and nibbled survivor in a fallen world, and I am getting along. I am aging and eaten and have done my share of eating too. I am not washed and beautiful, in control of a shining world in which everything fits, but instead am wondering awed about on a splintered wreck I've come to care for, whose gnawed trees breathe a delicate air, whose bloodied and scarred creatures are my dearest companions, and whose beauty bats and shines not in its imperfections but overwhelmingly in spite of them...

Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

Image source

Rape

Please see my original post here.


The day after Professor Seidman's appearance in my Crim Law class, I'm still shaken. I wasn't surprised by much of what she said, because I knew most of it. Key points: most men are NOT rapists. Most men CANNOT be pushed to rape. Rapists are recidivists, committing an average of seven (7) rapes in their rape careers. See Kilpatrick, Dean G., Rape and Sexual Assault, http://www.musc.edu/vawprevention/research/sa.shtml . Research indicates that one out of every six women has been raped in her lifetime. Id. Numbers vary by population; more than half of all rapes are committed against women 25 and younger. Id. 25% of rapes happen on college campuses. See RAINN's statistic page at http://www.rainn.org/statistics . The number of false rape accusations mirrors that of just about every other crime. See "Project Safe," from Vanderbilt University. But see the Fox News article "False Rape Accusations May Be More Common Than Thought" and recognize that bias can come from both sides. How many people do you know who have lied about a burglary (breaking and entering the dwelling of another at night with the intent to commit a felony therein)?

Professor Seidman had an interesting thought about attitudes toward rape. We find rape shameful, she said, because it involves sex (though, she added, "I would argue that rape has nothing to do with sex"). We're ashamed of the way we think about rape. I take this to mean two things. First, we're ashamed that we, in the 21st century, are embarrassed to talk about sex. Second, we've all taken in pieces of rape mythology and we're ashamed to admit it. Maybe she shouldn't have had that last drink. Maybe her dress was too tight. What was she doing going up to his hotel room? Why did she lead him on and then expect him to stop? What was she doing walking alone at night? Why was she acting sophisticated beyond her years?

Like all myths and legends, modern mythology springs from a sense of life's wonder, excitement, mystery, and terror. Modern legends offer images of the best and worst aspects of the human condition. They suggest that good behavior will be rewarded and evil, greedy, or foolish behavior punished. Some modern legends reflect people's fear of rapid social change or of science and technology; others appeal to their desire to find meaningful patterns beneath the confusing chaos of ordinary life.

Myths Encyclopedia, http://www.mythencyclopedia.com/Mi-Ni/Modern-Mythology.html , 1999.

I am surprised by the responses that came from some of my peers. In class, we discussed an alleged rape by Boston attorney Gary Zerola, as described in The Boston Globe. This is law school. 90 very bright individuals sat in that lecture hall. Some of them were appalled at the way Zerola's attorney, parroted by the journalist, blamed the (alleged) victim for the rape. Others suggested that it's the defense attorney's job to discredit the witness and any journalist would simply report the facts to his newspaper's audience. See The Boston Globe's article, "Woman describes alleged assault by lawyer," John Ellement, 2008. [The accused rapist, Gary Zerola, graduated from my law school, Suffolk University.] Ellement quotes the alleged rapist's attorney, Janice Bassil, in writing about the alleged victim "She liked to party," Bassil said. "She liked to drink. She liked to do drugs. She acted sophisticated beyond her years."

Then: "Ex-Prosecutor Acquitted of Rape Charge," John Ellement, 2008. Now I should take back all that stuff I wrote about the "alleged victim" and "accused rapist."

We have rules about what women should do to prevent rape. Women should not walk alone at night; women shouldn't drink too much; women shouldn't lead men on; women should not wear tight clothes or low-cut blouses or sexy underwear. See Myths Encyclopedia, http://www.mythencyclopedia.com/Mi-Ni/Modern-Mythology.html .

Feminism n. Belief in the social, political, and economic equality of the sexes. I've not heard much about how men are taking risks when they wear tight jeans. How many drinks is too many for a man? Can a man flirt with a woman and still expect to walk free at the end of the night? Should that man walk alone if he does walk free at the end of the night? (I'm focusing here on heterosexual rape, though I know male rape survivors.)

Hey, you victim-blamers: I'm not buying what you're selling. Get out of my way.

Law School and Discussions of Mental Incapacity

Please see my original post here.



In 1937 the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court referred to a mentally ill woman as "mentally deranged," and "ugly, violent and dangerous" but still found that she could form the requisite intent to commit a battery. McGuire v. Almy, 8 N.E.2d 760, 761, 762 (Ma. 1937). The defendant was mentally ill and struck her caregiver with a chair; she was subsequently successfully sued for battery. Id. at 760. Mental illness, in torts, does not negate intent. Id. at 762.

A schoolteacher took a leave from work after suffering a "nervous breakdown" [sic: words from 1969]. Ortelere v. Teachers' Retirement Bd. of City of New York, 25 N.Y.2d 196 (N.Y. 1969). Ms. Ortelere's doctor diagnosed psychosis; a court found voidable a contract into which she entered while still in emotional and mental distress. Id. at 205. Contracts are voidable when one lacks the mental 'capacity' to form them. Id.

These cases, discussed briefly in my law school casebooks and classes, opened up opportunities to talk about all sorts of ramifications regarding legal intent and defenses in reference to the mentally ill. They created fantastic opportunities to discuss subjectivism vs. objectivism; mutual assent; ability to form intent; and maybe even what it means to be frail (as most of us are, sometimes) in a society that presumes that we are, at all times, strong. The discussions did not get that far, and it's a shame. We only skimmed along the edges of what could have been a deep examination of where incapacity meets volition and what could be considered so disabling as to render a person incapable of contracting (or capable of battery). (Hey, I know it's law school, and I know it's first year, but we're still people living in a society that tries--or should try--to protect those who need protection.)

As Cara points out on Feministe, "stereotypes about disability/mental illness are constantly utilized in attempts to expose the 'fakers' and...the fact that they’re used in this way by people in positions of authority only reinforces the idea that the stereotypes must be true." Such stereotypes sometimes lead to narrow thinking and the assumption that "I'd know if someone was crazy." In America, around one in four individuals has a diagnosable mental illness at any time. When you're sitting in class, and the professor briefly mentions a mental incapacity defense, do you know that a person beside you or behind you or two rows away may be sinking into her chair or his own head? Or he may be sitting tall, knowing that he's living with mental illness and doing just fine, thank you.

Law students become lawyers and lawyers run the country. Attorneys become senators and governors and presidents but also take clients every day through court systems to shape policy and law. That's what I call running the country. And you know what? A large number of those lawyers have some form of mental disorder. They're not incapacitated and they're capable of forming contracts and they probably don't meet most of the stereotypes you have about the mentally ill. Hey, guys, the ReasonableMan--average but not mistake-prone--absolutely does not exist. Please get used to it now; then get to the business of changing the world.

Brought to you by the letters F and R

Please see my original post here.


[Feminism & Rape]
My CrimLaw professor is the most gently feminist/egalitarian professor I think I've ever been in class with. He doesn't shout his views because he just walks the walk, quietly and steadily and all the time.

On top of the basics of criminal law (actus reus + mens rea + causation + no defenses), Professor Cooper's class has included a lot of policy discussions. I didn't know about jury nullification. Jury nullification is a little-known ability for a jury to return a verdict contrary to law. Professor C introduced the Butler view without taking a stance either way. See Professor Paul Butler's "60 Minutes" interview on the black community's obligation to utilize jury nullification (and be aware that Butler's views are very controversial):



Do you know why the basic theories of punishment don't work? I don't entirely, either, but I know that they very often don't. See 'Inside Lorton Central Prison' by Robert Blecker. Stanford Law Review, Vol. 42, No. 5 (May, 1990), pp. 1149-1249 (discussing the ways in which traditional modes of punishment fail the felons and society). But see also Robert Blecker's Among Killers, Searching for the Worst of the Worst (stating that the death penalty is warranted in extreme cases). I'm grateful to Professor C for encouraging the class to think about policies behind facets of criminal law.

So there's all of that. Then last week we moved on to our rape unit. Professor C introduced the unit by alerting the class to the fact that many of its members are either rape survivors or had been falsely accused of rape. "So give your opinion," he said, but do so carefully. He stopped cold-calling and instead took volunteers for class discussion. There's a special place on Mount Olympus for professors like Cooper.

Class discussion on rape was difficult for a lot of people for a lot of reasons. Women spoke with strained or shaking voices. Or women spoke with ferocity. Or women spoke quietly but sure-footedly. Sometimes students' emotions got ahead of their words and we could hear their frustrations as they struggled to say exactly what they meant. Professor C let them work it out. The men who spoke mostly wondered why a man would continue if a woman said no, even if she said so quietly. (Yay for feminists!)

I want to protect every survivor in the room against any bit of blame. Look: women's bodies sometimes revolt against their minds, but it's their minds that matter. A no is a no, regardless of how quietly it's spoken. If a man continues in the face of a 'no,' he does so at his peril. Fear doesn't manifest itself in the same way in all situations. Sometimes women are so afraid that they do nothing. We say we don't blame the victims, but we do. We do.

Students make provocative statements that some of us can't not respond to. (I'm really sorry I shouted in your class, Professor C. I really am.) Arms wave, students gasp. In it all Professor Cooper pushes students to the extents of their views. (What if she said X? What if she said X and Y? What if she said X and Y but in a tone that sounded like Z?)

Professor Cooper has invited an expert in rape culture and law to the next class. I'll let you know how it goes.

(Feminism & Rape)

The world was a song

Please see my original post here.



You guys, this may be a bad sign.

I had a dream last night. That isn't the bad sign, although this is the first dream I've had in a long time that wasn't a nightmare and it may be a bad sign that since law school started I've only had nightmares.

But that's not THE bad sign. Last night I had a dream that I wasn't in law school. It was summertime and I was outside, standing in the sun, talking to some very nice adults who weren't carrying books. We talked about absolutely nothing to do with the law. That's right; nothing about the statute of frauds, no discussion of rape or homicide, no talk of open memos or writing out hypos, and absolutely nothing about personal or subject matter jurisdiction. In my dream I was wasting time and I didn't feel guilty. (See, that's one thing about law school. There's always more reading to be done, and if I pause to do anything that's not school-related I get panicky and flooded with guilt. Taking 15 minutes to blog even kills my psyche. I'm going to have to spend an extra half-hour with my flashcards tonight to make up for this indulgence.) See, e.g., Holy. Crap (holding that when exams are near the stress gets worse).

I had this dream, and it was a good dream, and I was happy in my dream, and I wasn't flooded with adrenaline thinking about all the work I had to do and wondering if I'd survive the next cold call. But here's the other thing: in this dream my mind was...blank. Sure, I woke up in a state of relaxation that I've not experienced since August. And sure, my body was relaxed and my tension headache was gone. And, sure, I was standing in sunlight, outside, during the DAY. Once I got over all of that, though, I decided that [maybe] this law school thing was [maybe] a good idea [maybe]. Most of the time, it's not fun. Most of the time, I'm filled with anxiety. Most of the time, I wish I had spent an extra hour studying the night before (see above). Some of the time, I wonder if I actually do want to be a lawyer. (I do.)

But most of the time, it's all right.

Image source.

The best thing I did...

...was to back away from perfectionism. I had great intentions. I started the semester with a clean apartment and exquisitely briefed cases. (Read the case once; read it again; brief it; read it again.) Last night I briefed four cases in less than an hour. ReadBriefReadBriefReadBriefReadBrief aaaaand save. Property book away; on to Civ Pro. CivPro done; on to study aid.

In the beginning, I thought maybe I'd try for top in my class. As exams near I realize I will be happy with an A, B, or C(the curve is a B). Hey, a C is good enough, right? Is it good enough for me? I don't know. And I'm too tired to decide right now. I have outlines to review and study aids to read.

But law school has definitely become the priority. My apartment is a wreck. My summer clothes are in piles on the floor and pairs of shoes have divorced and moved on to find different mates. I need to empty my trash but the trip to the dumpster takes too much time and energy. My plant died. I probably should have been watering it. My open memo materials are spread from the top of my printer, across my desk, onto my tv stand, and down on the floor. Whatever. I know where it all is when I need it.

Law school average is still pretty good. Here's hoping it'll all come out in the wash.



Image source.

Please see my original post here.

Holy. Crap.

Please see my original post here.

Suddenly, all of my classes are hard. How can I possibly memorize all the types of property interests? In personam jurisdiction is melding with subject matter and arising under and International Shoe and I'm not entirely sure what happened to Pennoyer v. Neff. Good lord; how am I going to remember the distinctions between first degree and second degree murder? Please, someone explain the common law statute of frauds to me and when the heck am I going to have time to rewrite my open memo? Exams start in less than a month and I'm out of food but I have no time to go grocery shopping. Do you know how tired I am?

If you're getting ready to start law school, don't fool yourself into thinking you know what it's going to be like. You have no idea. But even on my worst days I'm glad to be here.

What if I'd never signed up for law school?

Please see my original post here.

Today, I'm wishing for a bit of freedom. A stack of study aids is piled on my printer. Binders are in a sliding pile on the floor. Casebooks are open to various pages in various places around my apartment. My laptop is balanced on a Sharpie highlighter and I'm holding it in place with my wrist while I type. I've got a stack of old papers spread out on my tv stand: leftovers from when I was working on my legal writing assignment. Here I have a folder of old hypos and over there is my stack of flash cards.

I'm wishing for a day of freedom from law school.

I'd do some yoga and I'd end with a 20-minute Savasana. I'm a yoga beginner, but this is my hardest pose. Savasana wants me to quiet my mind and just let go. I'd do a 20-minute Savasana.



I'd read the Sunday New York Times Magazine. I'd work the crossword puzzle in the back. I think I'd go pick up some groceries. It would be nice to have time to go shopping. It would be nice to have some vegetables in my refrigerator.

I'd take a nap. I'd take a nap and not feel guilty. I'd wake up in my bed after an hourlong nap and stretch out in near-Savasana. I'd grab a book, and do some reading. Fiction. No flash cards.

I'd watch some Hulu. House, Eureka, NCIS, Heroes. I'd watch them all, back to back.

It'd be great.

Daydream over. Back to studying.

Sarah Kruzan: Sentenced to life in prison

Please see my original post here.



Sarah Kruzan was 11 when she met her pimp. Sarah was 11 years old--still a child--when she met G.G. The 31 year old stepped in as a substitute father. G.G. took Sarah and her friends--all still children--roller skating, and to the mall. When Sarah was 13 years old--still a child--G.G. raped her. And then G.G. sent this child onto the streets as his prostitute to work 12-hour shifts. She gave all of her money to her pimp for three years. Sarah was under 18, which means that she was raped nightly and repeatedly for three years. When she was 16, Sarah killed G.G.

The judge sentenced Sarah as an adult. She was 16--still a child--when she was sentenced to life in prison without parole. Plus four years. For good measure, I guess.

I can't find the details of the killing. But here's what I do know:

Sarah was a child when she was first raped. Sarah was a child when she was forced to sell her body. Sarah was a child when the justice system determined that she couldn't be rehabilitated. Sarah is now 29, and Sarah will die in prison.

Raping a child is not only illegal; it's despicable. Rape is confusing to adults. Rape is also confusing to children. When an individual is confused, she may not be able to objectively look at her choices. Children don't always know how to objectively look at their choices. Sarah was confused and unable to look at her choices.

As a society, we have said that adults are assigned the role of helping children make choices. G.G. was an adult. G.G. raped Sarah. The judge who sentenced Sarah was an adult. The judge decided Sarah could not be trusted to ever make appropriate choices. Sarah will never have the opportunity to choose how to live. Sarah will die in prison.

She was a child.

You're already bored

Please see my original post here.



Warning: if you're not in law school you are going to find me incredibly boring.

Are we friends on Facebook? When's the last time I posted about something that's not law-school related?

My current Facebook status:

Just realized I made a decent-sized error in citation in my open memo. Grr.
Yesterday at 5:30am · Comment · Like

If you're not in law school, you're wildly uninterested, you're rolling your eyes, and you probably don't know what an open memo is. If you're in law school you're considering adding a comment.

Hey, do you follow me on Twitter? My law school Tweeps and I trade jokes about adverse possession and wearing sweatpants to class. If you're in law school you might be realizing you've worn the same sweatpants every Friday for four weeks. If you're not, you're wondering why you should care and whether you should pretend that you do.

You might find my dreams interesting.

Two nights ago I dreamed that I was sitting for my Contracts exam and my computer wouldn't turn on. I woke up in a sweat. Was this a nightmare? This was a scary dream. Scary dreams are nightmares. This was a nightmare.

This is how I'm learning to answer essay questions. Issue: was this a nightmare? Rule: Nightmares are scary dreams. Analysis: This was a scary dream and scary dreams are nightmares. Conclusion: This was a nightmare. IRAC in a nutshell.

Last night I had a very detailed dream that I was sitting for my Torts exam and the professor surprised the class by giving us a Contracts essay question. In this dream, I watched myself write the answer. As in: I watched my hand write every word. The good news: I crushed that hypo. The bad news: I had another law school exam dream.

If you're in law school you're thinking that you understand IRAC more/less than I do. If you're not in law school you're wondering why you are still reading.

 

Did you find this post interesting? Only law students find this stuff interesting, and most law students would read the entire post. You read to the end of the post. Therefore, you're probably a law student. You likely found this interesting.

 

Really? Exams?

Please see my original post here.


So it's five weeks now until exams start. Omigosh it seems like I just walked into that first torts class with my shiny new backpack and a set of highlighters. Really? Five weeks until game day?

Things have changed in the wunelle corners. Case books have dispersed and we're walking around with our study aids in tow. In urgent whispers we 1Ls discuss which E&E will help most with contracts and where others are getting their practice hypos. "How many hours are YOU studying a night??" (Don't buy it; I don't think anybody answers this question honestly.) Where class discussion once centered on stretching hypotheticals to their full extents, now we're raising our hands and frowning with furrowed brows, "So, if we got a question like this on the exam..." The library is super-busy. (Urgently whispers, "Did you know they keep a hornbook* on reserve behind the circulation desk for EVERY first year class? Sometimes more than ONE!")

This is it, you guys.

 

*Hornbook: in law, a treatise that gives an overview of an area of law. A hornbook is pretty hefty.

Image taken from The Guardian.

Big Picture

Please see my original post here.



I'm trying to find the words. Give me a minute.



When I wrote this this and this, I didn't know crap about how hard law school is. I'm too tired to try to explain it and you probably wouldn't even believe me. I don't have time to blog, anyway. I've got eight cases to brief by tomorrow and three study aids I need to read through.

I'm trying to keep my eyes on the big picture.

I want to be a lawyer who helps people be this happy:



Now back to those study aids.

Blue Blanket

Please see my original post here.

In honor of a beautiful performance, I post the beautiful performance. Please thank After Silence.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2cEc3aQOP-o&hl=en&fs=1&]

October 23

Please see my original post here.

I haven't posted in a while but, you guys, it's been a really rough couple of weeks.

I hit a wall right around the second week of October. I think I'd been in school for something like six or seven weeks. I'd check on that for you but then I'd have to open up my calendar and do some counting and, well, I'm so tired.

I posted here about my realization that law school was, in fact, quite hard. And back in September I wrote here about the love-hate (mostly love) relationship I had with law school. In September I had found my rhythm. I was getting the reading done two or three days ahead of class. I read each case multiple times to be sure I caught all the nuances. I went over my notes after every single class and highlighted the important stuff. I was going to bed at a reasonable time and I was exercising regularly and it was GREAT! That was before law school put the smack down on me.

I will say that I'm absolutely thrilled to be here. I am. I feel incredibly lucky to be able to do what I'm doing. But holy-cow-this-sucks.

I'm now doing the assigned reading the night before or, often, the morning of class. I can read and brief most cases in 20 minutes now. Some days, I'm underprepared. There just isn't enough time to get everything done.

Also, I buy study aids. I buy them and I use them. This is a huge departure from my undergraduate days when I could ace an exam without even reviewing my notes. Yesterday I bought my eighth study aid. I have six classes.

If you're not in law school, you don't know what it's like. If you are in law school you know that I can't possibly describe it.

I can't read another word. I can't brief another case. I can't possibly fit another legal rule in my head. I don't just mean for today; I mean for forever. Except that I have to.

My god, I'm tired.

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....♫

Or you can listen to me if you want to...

[Please see my original post here.]

It may look like I'm having second thoughts about this law school thing. I actually wonder why I'm NOT having second thoughts. But I'm not.

I am crossing the median several times a day.

I've been complaining about waking up at 2 am to study, but I get out of bed at 2 am to read my casebooks because I love this stuff. I'm stressed and overwhelmed but I also consider my choice to start law school to be the best decision I've made in my adult life. I love it; I hate it; I'm exhausted; I'm thrilled. Law school sucks and it rocks. It's scary and I'm tired and I'm unsure but I'm also loving the crap out of it. Not every minute of this is great, but every single day is pretty cool.

Law school FTW.

Don't listen to me

[Please see my original post here.]

You guys, I'm one of those people. I spend too much time studying and I'm not sleeping and I meet with the professors after class and during office hours and while you're in the cafeteria I'm sitting in the library eating a protein bar and going over my notes. I'm updating my facebook status at 2 am to say "up again. Guess I'll attack some CivPro." But, you guys, I'm up at 2 am reading but I GO TO BED AT SEVEN-THIRTY.

Just ignore me.

I'm the example of why you shouldn't be concerned about what your classmates are doing. I don't have this law school business figured out any more than you do. I'm overworking myself because I'm insecure; I feel like I'm completely out of my element and I don't know what else to do. See Laura v. Law School. Hey, I think I'm a fairly smart person. But there's nothing like law school to make a smart person feel stupid. See, e.g., L. McWilliams v. Contracts. ( Anyone else?)

Please no comments about how I'm wasting my time. I get it. I'm a fairly smart person (supra).

Note: even smart people can't figure out how to correctly bluebook-cite. See, e.g., Don't Listen to me.

I'm either famous or I need a nap

[Please see my original post here.]
It's Saturday afternoon and I've been fighting to get work done today. I have this cold, you see, and reading Contracts with watery eyes just makes my eyes water. And I had a few brushes with fame yesterday, so I'm thinking I might just need to Hollywood up. I got named twice in #followfriday and [fearful tumbles] [reposted part of ] this blogpost.

It's not much, but it's all I've got.

Oh, and here's a picture of my twin and one of me. We're both back in school and as tired as we look.

The Socratic Method

[Please see my original post here.]

Let me reassure all of you aspiring--and even current--law students: the Socratic Method is not that bad. It's a great way of learning and it's not as scary as it seems.

If you mess up when the professor calls on you:

1. We don't really care. We're too busy focusing on what the professor says.


2. We don't remember. Unless you keep bringing it up after class.


3. We're not laughing at you. We all know that next week the professor might be drilling us and we may not have the answer. It's not funny and we're not laughing.


4. We don't think you're stupid. You just got caught on the one thing you didn't know. Or you got flustered. Or you misunderstood the question. Or any number of things that don't involve your intelligence. Law school is hard--for all of us.

I've been on both sides--knowing the answers and not knowing--and life goes on.

Move along; there's nothing to see.

Being what it's being

[Please see my original post here.]

Studying law using the case method can be fairly discouraging and saddening.

The guy who was found in his car with a stack of pictures of children in sexually explicit poses? He got off on a technicality.

The woman who watched her dying daughter being pulled from the wreckage of a really bad car accident? She recovered no money. Then there's adverse possession, in which individuals who intentionally inhabit others' property get to keep it after the statute of limitations runs out. Good doctrine; bad people. Morgan v. Kroupa: a kid lost his dog. Five years later he found the dog living with a new owner and the dog jumped into the boy's truck as he drove away. The finder got to keep the dog.

Then there are the encouraging outcomes resulting from outrageous behavior. The couple who kept a sick old man on their weather-exposed porch until he died of starvation while they stole all of his money: convicted. The black kid who directed his friends to attack a white kid based on his race: convicted and sentence enhanced because the event was a hate crime. The woman who, along with her boyfriend, consistently beat her five year old daughter until she died: convicted.

Law school lessons include the understanding that there are bad people all over the place. Sometimes they get off and sometimes they get punished but they're still bad and they're still out there. And they're probably out there doing bad things while I'm learning the objective theory of contracts.

But still. We have laws and they mostly try to care for us when really awful things happen, or moderately awful things, or just things that are beyond annoying but not necessarily in the realm of awful.

When I was in my early twenties a guy broke into my apartment and spent two hours frightening me before taking some cash and leaving. Even though the police did next to nothing to catch the guy, I'm encouraged to know that we have a law and it says that burglary is a felony: breaking/ and entering/ the dwelling/ of another/ at night/ with the intent/ to commit a felony/ therein. We have laws to smack this guy down.

Then there was the milder event in which a pet sitter, T., let my sister's indoor cat escape in the middle of winter. The cat spent two days cowering beside the house and was attacked by a wild animal. The vet bill was something like $2,000. My sister took T. to court but lost the case. Now I know that T. was indeed guilty of at least breach of contract and possibly negligence. She fractured the duty of ordinary care required of a bailee and if my sister had argued the case before a different judge and had brought just a little more knowledge of the law she would've owned that pet sitter's arse.

The study of law is the study of people, and the study of what people do wrong and what people do right. It's also obviously a study of the law, and what it does wrong and what it does right.

The burglar still got off and the pet sitter is probably still out there caring for people's pets. I have no moral here; I have no conclusion. It just is what it is.

Still Shaking II. The first one's the hardest...

...and I did fine, I'm happy to report.

PLEASE SEE MY ORIGINAL POST HERE.

Contracts is my most difficult class. Professor Wittenberg tells me that it's a really hard subject for most 1Ls. Even those students who lean back and chat before class while the rest of us frantically pore over Step-saver v. Wyse are probably just so confused that re-reading a case is pointless. Or they're faking an easy understanding of the parol evidence rule and UCC 2-207 because they don't want the rest of us to smell their fear. Or they have some other excuse for covering their confusion that I don't have time to determine because I need to re-read Step-Saver v. Wyse. (Alternatively, they may actually have a fabulous understanding of contracts, in which case I dismiss them entirely. I'm too busy re-reading Step-saver v. Wyse to re-align my paradigm.)

Since the class is so hard I've been fretting about the possibility of a cold-call from the very beginning. It happened yesterday, and I'm still alive.

I'm not sure how long I was Socratic-methodizing with Prof. Wittenberg; when doom impends time nearly stands still. I'm guessing the interrogation conversation went on for between 10 and 15 minutes. I attacked a hypothetical case using UCC §2-207. Yes, THAT 2-207. The one that addresses contracts between merchants or non-merchants concerning the sale of goods that involves the battle of the forms with an offer/counteroffer that includes additional terms that may or may not materially alter the contract to the extent that they should be dropped from the terms of acceptance.

My hands were shaking and my throat was tight but I surprised myself with an ability to think quickly and give prompt and thoughtful answers. I even managed to throw out a couple of mild jokes in the process. I wasn't sure how to measure my performance but a few classmates approached me afterward and told me that I did a great job.

The good news is that the class numbers 90 students, so I think I'm off the hook for a few weeks.

P.S. Holy crap. When did I become the person who could write this:

...The one that addresses contracts between merchants or non-merchants concerning the sale of goods that involves the battle of the forms with an offer/counteroffer that includes additional terms that may or may not materially alter the contract to the extent that they should be dropped from the terms of acceptance.

?

What do I wear to Law School? Law School Answers

PLEASE SEE MY ORIGINAL POST HERE!

At my law school the answer to "what do I wear to class?" is "whatever you want."

Most of my classmates wear comfortable, casual clothes. As in: jeans and t-shirts or shorts and flip-flops. A handful of us come to class in business attire or business casual attire.

I have reasons for dressing nicely for class:

• All of my professors attend classes wearing business attire. They're showing respect for the profession of law and scholarship and for their students. I recognize that deference and return it.


• I'm preparing myself to enter a profession that maintains certain standards. One of these--like it or not--is a requirement for professional attire when conducting business. In the business of law school I dress as I would for a casual day at the office. I don't wear business suits but I rarely wear jeans.


• I'm altering my perception of myself. I don't think of myself as a professional, but I'm pushing myself to reconsider. Don't clothes make the man?


• I take myself seriously when I'm dressed nicely. I'm attacking law school with all that I have and the clothes I wear remind me of that. Being a lawyer is serious business that has serious consequences. I joke about law school and poke fun at myself and my classes. But when it comes down to it I know that I'm here to learn how to advocate for those who can't advocate for themselves. That's a big deal and I don't wear jeans and sneakers to a big deal.

The short answer, though, is "whatever you want." The three years of law school may be your last opportunity to make that choice.

Boom-boom-pow

Please see my original post here.


Law school is this giant thing that grabbed me and spun me around. It's two weeks into my first year and everything has changed. Mens rea has rocked my world. (Yes, but did you desire the social harm your actions would cause?) Thanks to dear Professor Cooper I'm walking down the streets chanting to myself:

Breaking/and entering/the dwelling/of another/at night/ with the intent/ to commit a felony/ therein. (It's ok; I used to hum Christmas carols as I walked. The definition of burglary is much more exciting.)

Contracts class is still trying to smash me but my head remains above water for now. Torts (the 'boom-boom-pow' of the world, as Professor Robertson puts it) is moving slowly but on the verge of speeding up. I've got my course outlines started and case-briefing has become a simple procedure I use to try to understand complex concepts. (Believe me, one doesn't have to be a prodigy to learn how to brief cases.)

My goals now are the simplest: schedule regular breaks during the day; get enough sleep; exercise as regularly as possible; and fight back against Contracts. I'm not going down that easily, Professor Wittenberg. (And now that I know you're a sweet person you don't scare me. As much.)

1L...here we go.

A fiery ring

[PLEASE SEE MY ORIGINAL POST HERE.]

So after just two weeks of law school it's clear that I'm on a path to burnout. Most sources recommend spending around ten hours a day on schoolwork, and that includes class time. Suffolk University Law School's academic support program suggests that students spend between 60 to 70 hours a week studying. I looked back at the last 14 days of schedules I kept and updated in real time. (I really did update them: I plan out my studying and class time in one column and then write out what I'm doing as I do it in another column. This does not count as studying time. This counts as 'breaks.') My schoolwork has been snagging an average of between 12 and 15 hours on weekdays and around ten to 12 on weekend days. For those who are keeping track, the math adds up to an insane number of hours.

I'm not really doing it intentionally. On August 26 I didn't wake up at three a.m. and think, "I'm going to work from now until 11 p.m." It just sort of...happened. I was reading and briefing and re-reading and briefing and going to class and looking over my notes and in all this I wasn't paying attention to the time. Thus, it was 11pm before I made it to bed. A 20-hour day.

When I first started school, I was worried about falling behind. Now I just want to be sure I understand the material. I read everything two or three times; I look up unfamiliar terms online (thank you, Wikipedia); I read cases twice, brief them, and then re-read both the cases and the briefs; I go over my notes after every class and condense them into sweat sheets; and I spend some time with study aids to fill in the gaps. Now I'll be outlining on weekends, too. I don't know how to be more efficient.

I'm going to try to schedule in regular non-law-school events. Blogging (hello) is a nice break from CREAC. Blogging is creative in a way that the legal profession's Conclusion-Rule-Explanation-Application-Conclusion standard never can be. I also used to run and paint every day. There's gotta be a way to squeeze some of this into some of my days.

Any suggestions?

idk

[Please see my original post here]

It turns out that Professor McClurg was right. I had no idea how hard law school would be.

I understood that the time commitment would be enormous. I got that. And the time commitment is huge, but I was completely prepared for the time suck.

The thing I didn't know--the thing that should make law school daunting--is how intensely hard law school is.

Things would be crazy enough just with the fundamental problems of beginning a legal education. Understanding law requires learning: a new vocabulary (including tons of Latin); lots of statutes; common law rules; the structure of courts and jurisdictions; zillions of legal-system basics; the ABCs of briefing cases; and writing with CREAC and IRAC (more on that later). But after the first few days of school I started to realize that the true difficulty comes in synthesizing all of it and seeing these things as part of the larger picture of Law. Which is hard for lots of reasons, not least of which is the fact that I don't know what the larger picture looks like. As Professor Glannon (yes, that Glannon) said to me, "when you start law school you know NOTHING." I might add that some of my professors sometimes forget that about me, and the plethora of poli-sci majors in the lecture hall doesn't help matters.

The hardest part of school isn't the memorization; it isn't the workload or the reading; it isn't even the speaking up in class or the scary professors. (Professor Wittenberg, when you're not crushing me in Contracts you're making me prepare and read and memorize. I'll thank you later.)

The hardest part is the thinking and analyzing and hypothesizing and knowing what questions to ask (myself and the professors).

Thus: my body is rejecting law school even while my mind wants to forge ahead. Hives, rashes, hair loss, lack of appetite, poor sleep--these are all symptoms that my body wants to return to the nine-to-five, Monday-to-Friday routine. I'm turning pasty-white from living inside the law building and my apartment during sunlight (and even moonlight) hours. My circadian rhythm is messed up. If you are following me on Twitter, you'll know that I was awake at 2:50 am today working on a Contracts brief.

But I guess it's all good. I signed up for this and for now I'm not planning on going anywhere. Bring it.

jk

Still shaking

(Please see my original post here.)

It was a close one today in Contracts.

My prof. decided to cold-call starting in the front row and working back. I sit in the third seat in the first row. Though I had fully prepared for class my throat started closing and my head buzzed as the person beside me went on about unilateral contracts and proposals and counteroffers and promises. All I could think was: ohgod... I went over all the stuff I'd practiced before class. Mutual assent requires... ohgoddon'tcallonme. The master of the offer is the... ohgodlettimerunout. Restatement 24: An offer is 1)the manifestation of the ohgodwhydidIevercometolawschool the process of contract formation begins... well, you get the picture. My mind went (almost) blank and my notes were no help. I literally could not read my writing; my eyesight got all blurry while my toes went numb.

I've spoken up in class before but it had always been in response to a question that I (thought) I knew the answer to or a question I had (my prof.: "The teacher's manual says we have to tell you that there's no such thing as a dumb question.") This was going to be a disasterous debate with my raptor* professor and as soon as I realized I might have to talk my body went into "FREEZE! No public speaking!" mode.

Instead of calling on me the professor began discussing the Uniform Commercial Code and I ended the class uneviscerated. I'm wondering now if that means I'm on call for the next class.

Back later; gotta brief some cases.



*I've been told more than once that my Contracts professor is actually a sweet guy and that by the end of the semster I'll love him and be grateful for how much he taught me. Here's hoping I make it to December.

Note: it's 2 1/2 weeks after I wrote this. I need you all to know that the professor I described as a raptor is actually more like this:





Seriously; he's like this:

How does it feel? (like a rolling stone)

[Please see my original post here.]

My subjective sense of what law school feels like, on the morning of the fourth day:

I'm being shoved from the rear and I can't pause for the stampede behind me. All that's left for me to do is raise my elbows and muscle my way to the edge of the crowd. The work--reading, case briefing, studying, thinking, preparing for cold-calls in class--is pressuring me from the back and if I stop for even a moment it threatens to overtake and pass me. In law school, I know, one cannot afford to fall behind.


So: my schedule from Wednesday, the third day of class, is below. Know that my contracts prof. is my scariest professor and the one for whom I most want to be prepared.

• 3:18 am: Wide awake and nearly panicking about all the work I have to do before class



• 3:20-6 am: Contracts prep



• Shower



• 6:20-8:20: Contracts prep



• 8:21: sew hem in pants



• 8:30: print contracts brief



• 8:35: leave for school



• 9:15: review Crim. Law readings and brief



• 10:00-10:50: Criminal Law



• 10:50-11:00 Go over Criminal Law notes and create a sweat sheet*



• 12:00-12:50: Contracts



• 12:51-1:00: Begin Contracts sweat sheet



• 1:-1:50: Torts



• 1:50-2:20: finish Contracts sweat sheet



• 2:20-3:45: Crim. Law reading and case brief



• 3:45-5:20: Property reading and 3 case briefs



• 5:20: print out case briefs



• 5:40: head for home



• 5:40-6:20: (on train) read ch. 30, Civil Procedure



• 6:20-6:45: eat dinner while continuing to read Civ. Pro. assignment



• 6:45-7:20: continue with Civ. Pro. reading



• 7:20-9:45: Contracts case brief



• 9:45-10:15: go over Contracts sweat sheet and define any terms that are confusing (Black's Legal Dictionary)



• 10:15-10:40: read ch. 5 for Legal Practice Skills



• 10:40 fall asleep with lights on and book open to chapter 5, page 3.

That's right; I worked straight through from 3:20 am to 10:40 pm and I still didn't get enough done. Also I don't feel prepared for Contracts and plan to do more prep work before class on Friday. I'm beginning to thrash and lose my bearings. Please remember that I'm writing this on the morning of my fourth day of school.

I prefer not to be trampled.



*sweat sheet: I take notes in class on the front side of the paper. After class the back side of each page is empty. This is where I create my sweat sheet. I go over the notes from class and pull out the salient points along with any terms I need to look up later. From the book "1000 Days to the Bar--But the Practice of Law Begins Now," by Dennis J. Tonsing: "These are the pages over which students toil and sweat. accordingly, the learning experts at Landmark College (Putney, Vermont) have aptly nicknamed these 'sweat pages.'"

Orientation, day 3. Or: Welcome to law school!

[Please see my original post here.]

The final day of orientation was...

Oh my god; I'm a 1L!

...the most interesting of all three days. The first panel included the dean of students, Laura Ferrari; Art Klossner, director of health services; and Wilma J. Busse, psychologist from the school's counseling center. From the presentation I learned that 40% of lawyers have some form of OCD. I learned that substance abuse is rampant among lawyers and law students. And Dean Ferrari assured us that our professional life starts NOW. Message: don't embarrass yourself. Don't alienate faculty or other students. Be aware that lawyers and judges walk through the law building all the time and understand that your networking opportunities began on Tuesday.

Holy cow...I'm supposed to be a lawyer...

Then some upperclassmen gave us a building tour and we broke off into small groups to talk about what law school's really like with a 2L. The meat and bones session included mostly information I'd read in law school prep books. BUT my group went through a round of introductions and it became clear that in law school I am nearly completely surrounded by history and political science majors. Did I mention that I studied art as an undergraduate? I haven't even read the U.S. Constitution.

Holy crap. I'm not ready for this.

Anyway, my professors have posted assignments for the first classes and I have lots of reading and briefing to do. The reading, the briefing, the class prep; those parts are all very exciting. I'm officially a 1L. I've entered a brave new world, and, for now, I think I like it.

(How long do you think it'll be before I want to eat those words?)

Orientation: day 2

The second day of orientation was less exciting than the first. The highlight was a mock class taught by a professor in the Academic Support Program. I asked a few questions in a class of around 80 students. It's not a parallel comparison between this class and, say, Civil Procedure, but I'm pleased to know that speaking up in a large lecture hall isn't all that scary.

The orientation sessions have no dress code (except for the business attire requirement for student directory photos that I mentioned previously) and so it was interesting to check out what other wunnelles were wearing.

I wore a skirt with a blouse and a nice sweater. Other students wore clothes that ranged from denim shorts and t-shirts to pencil skirts and heels. Conforming to a bothersome trend, the law building was teeming with flip-flops. I'm of a different generation than most of my fellow students, but even the flops with sequins on the straps or flowers on the thongs just don't seem like appropriate footwear for a professional school. The men had a better handle on this; those dressed in the business casual vein almost to a man wore appropriate (closed-toed) shoes. Women, though, wore dresses with matching flip-flops or skirts with matching flip-flops or slacks or blouses or sweaters with flip-flops. I'm far from a fashionista, but I think I know professional clothes when I see them. Aren't flip-flops beach wear? Aren't they a little chichi? Or am I just old?

Please see my original post here.
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Orientation--day 1

Day one of law school orientation is done. My business attire (yes, I wore a business suit) was appropriate and almost made me feel like a real law student. I wore striped rainbow socks under my loafers--the shoes were actually pretty comfortable--and the socks were a hit with other 1Ls. Also, every time I crossed my legs I caught a glimpse of them and felt a tiny twinge of happy. They worked out nicely, the socks did.

Now you're asking, "so what was the first day like?" (Come on; I KNOW you're wondering.)

The day started with a scholarship recipient luncheon. While waiting for the luncheon to start I met three really interesting first-years, with whom I spent most of the day. (Thanks, Andrew, A.J., and Leon, for helping me feel at ease on a crazy day.)

The luncheon was fine; it was mostly arranged as an opportunity to meet other wunnelles. And it happened with free food AND a party favor. I treasure the free jump drive most of all the free items I received throughout the day. The highlighters, pens, and candy that came later just didn't compare, though the candy was a tiny rainbow among the black and white of business-attired-law-students.

Then our group--Andrew, A.J., Leon, and I--waited for six o'clock to roll around. Note: people-watching at a law school is a incredibly pleasant. Contrary to what I've heard, law students have FUN. There was laughing and joking and chatting about summers. There was also a great deal of bustling and seriousness, business attire and business casual attire, and, incongruously, lots of flip-flops.

The school hosted a reception for all the first-years at which the interim dean gave an inspiring speech and Thomas Beauvais, the Student Bar Association's president, gave an encouraging speech. Beauvais reassured us that we were capable of studying law and it would be worth it in the end.

Phew.

Next was a meet-and-greet with the other students in our sections. Lots of free wine led a few students to drink too much, but mostly we just mingled. Again, I met some really great people who came from all across the country and Canada.

Then we explored the administrative offices and walked among tables populated by all of the law school student groups. I signed up for a number of email lists and became really excited about the opportunities offered to Suffolk's students.

It was a good day, and one that wasn't worth all the stress and anxiety I'd been suffering through for the past two weeks. It was easy and fun and exciting.

I'm totally starting law school, and that ROCKS.

Please see my original post here.
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You don't need a car in Boston

At least that's what they tell me. I am about to find out if it's true.

My car, a Mercury Sable (American car. 'Nuff said.) failed the Massachusetts state inspection. See inspection information here. The mechanic said something about the windshield wipers and the fantastic chunk of rust over the back tire. It looks like this:




Yes, that is a LEAF stuck in the hole.

The mechanic was very sweet. He asked me why I wanted an inspection in August when it wasn't due until October (I didn't). "We won't do an inspection then but I have to tell you that it failed."

My stomach dropped. Every year since I've moved to the state I've worried that my car would fail. This year, though, Massachusetts instituted new regulations, and a rust hole violates the safety standards. I had the option of getting body work done on the rust for around $400-$500 (I asked about just cutting off the rust, but that's apparently a WORSE violation because of the sharp edges). My 16-year-old car is only worth $500. At least it was, until it failed the inspection. I'm not inclined to have $500 worth of work done on it. Plus, my used-car-principles require me not to have body work completed on a 16-year-old, $500 car.

So I'm getting rid of it.

It's been a great car for me, carrying me around in Detroit, Colorado, and Massachusetts for eight years. But nothing lasts forever and that's especially true for American cars. (I'm not unpatriotic and I'm loyal to the Motor City, but if I'm going to spend thousands of dollars on an automobile I want it to be reliable and to stand up to the driving test. Also the state inspection test.)

I'm living and going to school in Boston, home of the oldest subway system in the nation. I live a block from the green line, which takes me straight into the center of Boston and to school. Which takes me to the blue line, which arrives at the airport. Which takes me to the red line, which runs from the South Shore (Braintree, Quincy, UMass Boston) through Cambridge and into Alewife. Which takes me to the orange line, which runs through Chinatown. I won't even delve into the fantastic bus system.

So I'm getting rid of the Sable. This relieves me of the stress of city parking, the expense of car insurance, and the worry that any minute my automobile is going to break down and require another expensive repair. As I've previously posted, I'm getting rid of stuff and this item is the most expensive thing to go. (It turns out that in the previous post I also wrote about the stress of owning a car in the city. Problem solved.) I'm about to test the adage that 'you don't need a car in the city.'

I'll keep you updated.


Please see my original post here: http://lauramcwilliams.wordpress.com/2009/08/18/you-dont-need-a-car-in-boston/