I just want to let you know that I have not been out having fun, exploring the world, experiencing post-worthy things. Oh no. I have been sitting and learning Constitutional Law and, perhaps more importantly, trying to squeeze as much information as possible on the one sheet of notes we are allowed to bring into the final exam tomorrow. Three words: six point font.
Oh! Don't worry. We didn't read the whole book. We just read to page 1043. That's all. No biggie.
I'm frantically studying for Constitutional law, the next final on the calendar, and I swear to gumdrops, I found this very profound sentence in my notes:
plus, who was for the what?Somehow, I don't think that this will earn me any points on the exam.
Real California laws, proving that we really are just as superficial as we seem:
Persons classified as “ugly” may not walk down any street. {San Francisco, CA}
You are not permitted to wear cowboy boots unless you already own at least two cows. {Blythe, CA}
Zoot suits are prohibited. {Los Angeles, CA}
(From Dumb Laws)
I lose1 every single game of Masterpiece2 that I play3.
---------------------------------
1Noting that, on Saturday, I came in last or second to last in the games I played.
2Parker Brothers, Masterpiece: The Art Auction Game (1970), available at Amazon.
3Despite the fact that I can name the titles, artists, and dates of all of the artworks. I thought I was going to be superb at the game. Apparently, I am unable to properly manage my assets. Big surprise, eh?
A few months ago, Michelle and I joking decided to open our own practice upon graduation from law school. Our business would be called "Contracts and Cupcakes" and you could come on down and get yourself a contract while enjoying a scrumptious cupcake and a tall glass of milk in our bakery-styled law firm. Because wouldn't that be so much more fun than getting a contract at a boring old law office where everyone is all stuffy and dull, wearing suits rather than polka-dotted aprons?
Today, we practiced our baking in a five-hour baking spectacular.
Michelle did most of the difficult tasks including working the cookie press and running the hand mixer.
I pressed the Reese's into the peanut butter cookies. You guys, I am seriously really good at those peanut butter cookies.
In the end, we decided it was all an awful lot of work. Plus, we ate about a million of the little treats. So now what we are thinking is this: Wine and Wills. You come on down and get yourself a will, we'll serve it up with a nice glass of pinot noir.
My law schooling skillz came in handy this week when my mom sent me an email, asking me to do some research on a New Jersey law. I did the work and put together a responding email discussing the law briefly and then the specific effects of that law in New Jersey. At the end of the email, I asked my mom why she needed all that information on the law.
I got her response this morning: the New Jersey law had been the basis of a question on the television game show, Cash Cab, and she hadn't known the answer.
Should you ever be on that Millionaire game show and need to know about the New Jersey Blue Law, you can phone me with one of your lifelines.
Answering game show trivia questions: three years of law school--and $120,000--well spent.
On Friday night, I attended one of the biggest law school events of the year--the annual auction. There was free wine and appetizers and a million items to bid on, ranging from the fabulous (gourmet meals, trips) to the bizarre (rubber band balls, body piercing). I drank a considerable amount of the free wine and bid on a few items here and there, although I was mostly outbid because I failed to keep track of the things I was bidding on, so as to check back before the bidding closed.
Although a majority of the auction items were donated by professors and local businesses, the club organizing the auction also solicited student donations--things like guitar lessons, a homemade pie, a break-up phone call, or dog sitting.
Michelle and I, best law school friends forever, decided that we would donate something together. In Civil Procedure we decided that the something would be a basket of baked goods. Four dozen sweet treats baked with love and tied with a pretty pink bow. I know. I know. What was I thinking?
The basket--the basket which is not currently in existence--went for over $30. The recipient has one month to redeem his certificate for this "basket of baked bliss"--we actually used that word, bliss, insinuating that not only would we bake up the goodies, but that they would be glorious and divine--and when he does, Michelle and I are gonna need to learn to bake up some bliss.
Just in time, the new Food Blog Search is available and I'm gonna type in "Bliss" and see what comes up.
How about you? Got any blissful bake sale recipes that don't require fancy things like chiffoning or ganaching or marzipaning? I mean, obviously, we will be making the peanut butter cup cups, but somehow I think we are going to need something more than a tube of cookie dough and a bag of Reese's to get out of this mess.
1. Play MASH
2. Discuss the plot of The Indian in the Cupboard
3. Sleep
4. Translate bad words into foreign languages
5. Critique episodes of Saved by the Bell
It's practically junior high school.
My friend Alan emailed me this totally blogworthy clipping from a law student magazine:
Student fees hard at work.
Today I took my criminal law final. It was, um, what's the right word? Hard. Hellish. Complicated. Oh, how about Fucked Up. Yep, that about covers it. Although you all have lovely manners and would never do anything naughty, should you decide to kill somebody, you had better hire somebody else to represent you. If you hire me, you can then keep me on staff to decorate your cell.
(Okay, so this is a bit over dramatic. It wasn't that bad. But it wasn't a picnic in the park either and I, being bored, am creating excitement and dramatics for your (and my) benefit. I typed away for three hours on the test and I can honestly say that I have no idea what I talked about--it could have been good, it could have been bad. It could have been about gothic cathedrals, for all I know, although I am reasonably sure I stuck to murder. For the most part, anyway.)
It's now on to Contracts and the only thing keeping me going, the only thing keeping me plugging away, is that if I live, I will get to go to Ikea. Only four more days with this pile of books and I will be free to eat meatballs and fill up my cart with cheap glassware and various utensils.
I will be doing most of my Christmas shopping at Ikea, with the remainder of the gifts being purchased at the grocery store, in an amazing one-day, two-store shopping blowout. I have only purchased one gift so far--some gears toy for Drew which has about a million little parts for him to scatter all over Kathryn's house (am I an awesome friend or what?)--and I ordered it during the summer so I don't think it technically counts.
In summary, this is what happens to you when you go to law school:
a) All you have to talk about is law school
b) You over-dramatize and over-analyze
c) You discover that the grocery store is full of great gifts*
d) You look forward to an hour in a retail chain
e) Christmas? Already? Oh, god, am I in some trouble.
*Hello! Wine, beer, champagne, cans of nuts, good chocolate, candles, vodka, Baileys, Us Weekly, Jello, Nutella, peppermint ice cream, hot fudge, cat food. See what I mean? One stop shopping with something for everyone.
The last week or so has been a bit dull. Everyday I think about how I would like to write something for you, but the only things in my head right now, during this law school finals time, are things like joint tortfeasors and negligence and assumption of the risk. I could tell you all about these things but, trust me, your eyes would glaze over after about two sentences and you would never come to visit me again. I can tell I'm already about to lose you.
After our first final today, we all stood in the hallway, partially defeated, partially ebullient, and finally decided to go have a drink. Michelle and I ordered a bottle of Riesling and proceeded to get nice and tipsy at two in the afternoon, after which I called my mom and talked to her for 20 minutes about my cat and then Will and I sent out some holiday cards.
It's a right jolly good time around here.
Here are some quotes taken directly from actual cases we discussed in law school today.
Contracts:
"Shortly after the sign was installed, somebody hit it with a tomato...And that really brings it down to the tomato. And, of course, when a tomato has been splashed all over your clock, you don't like it. But he says he kept calling their attention to it, although the rain probably washed some of the tomato off."
Torts:
"That the setting is indeed a degrading one requires only a glance through the issue of Hustler in which "Robyn Douglass Nude" was published to confirm. The cover shows a naked woman straddling and embracing a giant peppermint stick..."
"To evaluate Hustler's contention required the jury to compare the two magazines. We shall use for comparison the issue of Playboy in which the "Ripped-Off" pictorial appeared, though the jury had other issues of Playboy to peruse as well."
"It should be apparent by now that this little niche of the law of privacy is dominated by Larry Flynt publications."
These are the types of cases you want to get when you show up for jury duty.
My friend Michelle and I hosted a Wine & Cheese Extravaganza on Friday night. We went to Trader Joe's after class and bought 8 bottles of wine, 8 types of cheese, plus crackers and all the ingredients for caprese, pumpkin dip, and Michelle's delicious bruschetta.
We were expecting thirty people or so and we were worried--as hostesses are prone to worry--that we wouldn't have enough food and drink.
(You know, somehow, men never have this same concern, considering a 12 pack of beer and a bag of chips sufficient to get the party started. You can always order a pizza, right?)
Of course, we had little to worry about because every single guest brought wine or cheese or wine and cheese or wine and another bottle of wine. Before long there was at least a bottle of wine and a chunk of cheese for every person in attendance.
There are currently five unopened packages of brie in my fridge. But, the wine? It is all gone.
One of the top students in the class puked in the gutter, there are several red wine stains on my hall carpet (spilled by yours truly), and I'm pretty sure the neighbors hate us, but there is a price to pay for being hostesses with the mostesses and we bore the burden. And looked cute doing it.
The photos are here. Cheers!
It's November.
November means that I have about one month until classes are over and the grueling finals process begins at this place we call law school. It means that I need to begin the process of memorizing all the ways you can get yourself into some big trouble, like by murdering somebody or by scrolling to the end of the contract and clicking "accept" without exercising your duty to read.
November also means something else. It's National Blog Posting Month and, because I like to suffer so, I signed up. You know what this could mean? It could mean that I will post every day in November for you. Every single day. It also probably means that I will earn some Bs on some of my finals. There is a strict forced curve for first year students and only twenty percent of my class can earn the coveted A. Those people certainly don't blog. They stop studying only to pee. They rarely sleep.
But, alas, I will blog. I will blog at the expense of the A. I will do it for you, if you want me to. I need a show of hands. Who says that Slice of Pink should go crazy this November? Who says that, whatever, Bs earn J.D.s, right? Who says that they will hire me in three years....or this summer, even? Anyone? Anyone?
It's gonna take some commenting love to get me off the books and on the blog this November. What do you got to say? Bring it.
I've heard some pretty wise people say that if you treat law school like a 9 to 5 job, you'd get along just fine. Maybe you wouldn't get straight As, but you'd have time to watch television and take photographs and sleep and have a life, a real life, outside of the library study room.
For the first six weeks of law school, I found this to be absolutely laughable. Impossible, I thought, absolutely impossible. But then I did a little experiment. It's an experiment that I highly recommend to anyone who feels that there is never enough time in the day to finish all the work that piles up.
The first thing to do is download a chronoTrack. This won't work for you PC people, so you can go wherever it is you go to get Widgets (or gadgets, as you so cleverly refer to them) and get a timer. A regular old stopwatch would also work.
Then, track your time. Only track the time that you are actually being productive. Honestly productive. Turn the timer off when you are checking personal email, peeing, talking to the person in the cubicle next to you about your weekend plans, reading blogs, making an appointment with your hair stylist, searching for a pumpkin cake recipe, or talking on the phone for purely social purposes. No cheating. This isn't for credit, people, so you aren't cheating anybody but yourself.
Let me tell you, I was shocked at how little I was actually getting done in the span of eight hours. Barely fifty percent of my time was truly productive and much of that was only because I was listening to a lecture. It was kind of ridiculous, actually, how much time I wasted. I'm trying to meet the eight hour mark earlier each day and I really think it's helping. I actually, finally, seem to making sense of this thing they call "the law."
Even if your job doesn't require much, it would still be fun to track your time. Wouldn't it be great to know that you get paid for eight hours when you actually only work for two? That's the kind of job you want to keep. Trust me. I've been there and, when I'm sitting in my carrel working towards eight full hours knowing that even THAT will likely fall short of the A mark, I sure do miss that peaceful easy feeling.
Yesterday I was at the law building late, working with my group on the last-minute details of a group presentation that we had to make this morning. Toward the end of the evening, I was editing our script and I noticed something fishy. In the script, referring to something that happened this month, the date was stated as October 1, 2008.
2008.
I swear to you, I sat there staring at that date for a full minute and, for the life of me, I could not remember if we were currently in 2007 or 2008.
It was just a stupid typographical error but my brain? It is fried eggs.
Before law school, among other things, I briefly considered attending culinary school. The idea didn't last long because, the truth is, I know absolutely nothing about cooking or baking. The only recipes I can successfully pull off have Jello and Cool Whip as the main ingredients.
It's a funny thing. I didn't go to culinary school because I know nothing about being in a kitchen. I came to law school because I know so much about the law. For instance, I know that there are laws. And that we should abide by them. And, also, that some things are illegal. Like speeding. And killing people. Also, something about contracts? And wills?
I might as well have gone to culinary school.
Tomorrow is my first law school test. Somehow, I think that it would have been much easier to make a raspberry jam torte than to analyze intentional torts. At least it wouldn't have required any damn typing skills.
Will sent me the following article from Yahoo News:
A federal judge was driven to rhyme after receiving a hard-boiled egg in the mail from a prison inmate protesting his diet. U.S. District Court Judge James Muirhead reached for Dr. Seuss' "Green Eggs and Ham" for inspiration after getting the egg from inmate Charles Jay Wolff.I do not like eggs in the file,
I do not like them in any style.
I will not take them fried or boiled.
I will not take them poached or broiled.
I will not take them soft or scramble,
Despite an argument well-rambled.He then ordered the egg destroyed:
No fan I am
Of the egg at hand.
Destroy that egg! Today! Today!
Today I say! Without delay!
At the end of the email, Will concluded that the judge "could be you someday." I guess I'll take that as a compliment?
Well, it's Monday and since I don't, like, have a job or anything, I guess I'll go back to law school.
I mean, I did get an answer wrong last week, but that happens about half a dozen times every day in law school to a half a dozen people so I guess it's all just part of the fun.
I'm fine. Fiiiiiinnne. Do I look fine to you?
Haha. Seriously. It's all good. I'm totally fine.
My husband on the other hand....
I'm dropping out of law school.
So, law school was going along swimmingly. I've been going to potlucks and drinking wine and making friends and studying a bit and even answering questions in class here and there and, you know, learning the law.
But. Friday I got called on and I got the answer wrong. Let me back up by saying that we don't raise our hands to answer questions in law school, we sit in fear waiting for the professor to call our name off a seating chart, following the hateful Socratic Method. So, I got called on and I answered the first part of the question right and the second part of the question right and then I answered the third part of the question right if I were fighting for the prosecution. But, apparently, I was supposed to be fighting for the defense which I apparently missed in the fray.
My professor is wonderful, really, and he immediately made a joke--a joke he uses all the time when us baby lawyers get the answers wrong--and said that he was going to find somebody else to defend him. And everybody laughed like we always do, except this time, haha, NOT SO FUNNY ANYMORE.
Talk me off the ledge, people.
Just a brief break from studying to tell you that I just read these words, which form the beginning of a sentence on tobacco litigation:
In the years immediately preceding the mid-1990s.....
Um. What would that be? The early 1990s, perhaps? What is with lawyers?
Since we are now attending law school--and by we, I mean myself and all of you who will undoubtedly hear a thing or two (mostly complaining, no doubt) over the next three years about my experiences--I thought I should fill you in on some of the things I have learned. In the last two days, I have spent about 7 hours a day on campus attending classes, completing various registration procedures, and listening to many speakers who all have the same message, that law school will be very hard but that we were all selected because they believe that we will make it to the end without falling down dead. If we are lucky.
Here are three lessons from the first two days.
1. Math I learned at our financial aid session: So, let's say you purchase a $3 coffee, five days per week. Over the course of three years, you will have spent $2340 on coffee. More importantly, if you purchase that coffee using your student loan at 6.8% interest, you can expect to pay $3698 for that coffee over your 10 year repayment period, which means that you will pay $1358 in interest alone for your coffee. Apparently, it is not a good idea to buy coffee on credit. Beer, happily, was not mentioned.
2. Here is a paragraph regarding taking final exams from the American Bar Association brochure we received: "Never allow yourself to take a nap during the hours in the day that the test will be given. You don't want your body to want to take a nap during your final exam. It makes it more difficult to complete the exam if you are sleeping." Yes, okay, that makes sense.
3. Happy Hours are critical, daily, and start at 9pm.
Got that all? Good. Now I need y'all to go out at the hottest part of the day and ride your bike for two or three miles while fighting with a skirt that would like nothing more than to fly up and show your panties to everyone in town. Then? Then we will truly all be in this together.
Welcome to law school.
UC Davis sent me a packet of homework that I must complete before I arrive. The assignments include: writing a short biography, reading a textbook, sending an official transcript, and paying $12,744.70 for the first semester.
In addition, they sent a list of books that are not mandatory, not even suggested necessarily, but that would be beneficial to us should we be "eager to get a closer look at the world of lawyers." The list includes the following books, none of which I have read:
Miracle at Philadelphia
The Spirit of American Law
A Civil Action
Profiles in Courage
To Kill a Mockingbird
An Introduction to Legal Reasoning
Gideon's Trumpet
The Bramble Bush
One L: An Inside Account of Life in the First Year at Harvard Law School
Thurgood Marshall American Revolutionary
While I had read exactly zero of these selections (or, actually, about 2 chapters worth of One L to be precise), Will has read three of the books already and he was so interested in the list that he took the assignment sheet to check out the rest of the list for more recommendations. I think, perhaps, the wrong one of us is going to law school next month. Will will probably have the whole list read by end of the summer while I, well, I will have at least made it through all the Harry Potter movies.
One of my weekend tasks is to accept my financial aid award for the upcoming school year. It is actually quite an easy task, I simply need to accept or decline each of the awards on the chart with a few clicks of the mouse, but somehow, looking at the numbers is a tiny bit scary.
Luckily, we are talking about a state school with in-state tuition, so it's not as bad as it could be and, honestly, I think paying for graduate education is one of the better ways I can spend that much money, but that didn't stop Will and I from considering all the things we could do with the $120,000 in loans that I will accumulate over the next three years.
For example, I could purchase 200 pairs of Manolo Blahniks. Or 60 Hermes Birkin bags. Or 30 fringed Fendi dresses. Or 30 Versace Mink-Trim coats. Obviously, I would try to mix it up a bit, but you get the idea. Will, however, does not get the idea, so moving along....
We could get a Monaco Coach Motor Home or a pair of matching, tricked out 2007 Hummer H2s.
How about a Cancun Beachfront Condo?
Maybe two matching best friends forever Tiffany Victoria Bracelets with money left over for a cultured pearl necklace would do.
Better yet, two fares for the Grand World Voyage Cruise, a 111 day trip around the world, leaving January 2008.
Perhaps a boat of our own. With sailing lessons.
Or, my favorite, this original Andy Warhol print, bargain priced at $100,000. We'd have money left over to buy some wine.
It's not too late. I haven't clicked the accept button. So, tell me, how would you spend one hundred, twenty thousand smackaroos?
During my final quarter at UCSB, the quarter when I was completing my undergraduate honors thesis, I commuted two hours each way to Santa Barbara twice a week to meet with my professor. I had been offered a job in my hometown and it required starting in January, before the completion of my degree, so I worked three days a week and made the long commute to college the other two. Every week I would check out books on tape from the meager selection at my local library to make the commute time worthwhile.
One night--I remember this clearly--I was driving back home, down Highway 101, listening to Dr. Phil on tape. He was discussing living by design--that is, taking accountability for your life, deciding what you want, and then making it happen. Dr. Phil was taped while talking to a live audience and he asked the audience this question: "How many of you live in the town you grew up in?" By the sound of his voice I could tell that a majority of the audience had raised their hands. "What if," he asked then, "your town really sucks?"
Something about that line really stuck with me. I had just moved back home after living in two amazing cities--Santa Barbara and Washington, DC--and compared to those two place, my hometown did really suck. For me. I receive a lot of flak for wanting to move out of my hometown in the Antelope Valley--even more so now that I am actually starting to pack up my crap--and even though I definitely don't feel obligated to explain my reasons for moving, I am going to do it anyway. This is mainly for the people who can't understand why we would move, the people who think we are snobby and vainglorious, and the people who think we are AV haters. Which we are, but only because we have different values. Not better, just different.
After the jump, some of the reasons we are moving away and some of the reasons we probably won't move back.
We are spending Easter at the Doubletree Resort in Scottsdale, Arizona. We originally came here to look at Arizona State University, the school I decided last week to attend for law school. Then we got here. About 40 minutes into the trip and we decided no way. So, instead of looking at apartments and whatnot, we have been swimming in our resort's amazing pool (one of two), drinking margaritas, and sleeping in. It has been relaxing and fabulous and a much needed break because in two days we will once again be flying cross country with twenty teens.
The main reason we decided not to move to Arizona? You can't really ride a bike. And if there is one thing I care about, almost more than I care about actually getting a law degree, it is getting rid of my car. I've been dreaming about a bicycle as my main form of transportation since the good ol' days at UCSB. Can't you see me on a beach cruiser with a basket picking out fruits and veggies at the local farmer's market? Me, too. And that's why I will be attending law school at this place. 34th ranked school, in-state public tuition, and the most bicycle friendly city in the United States. Wanna ride on my handlebars?
It is getting to be the time when I have to choose a law school for next fall. I originally said that I would only go to law school if I was accepted into a top 50 school, and I have been accepted to several top 50 schools in the past few weeks. However, I have also been accepted to some law schools, not ranked in the top 50, who have offered me some fabulous scholarships, some nearing $85,000. These schools, although not ranked top 50, are still ranked among the top 100 schools in the nation. Essentially, this would mean that I would graduate owing little or no money.
While many of the schools I applied to are in cities that I have visited and love, two of the schools that have offered me a particularly large chunk o' cash are in cities that I have never stepped foot in. Although it would certainly be wise to check out a place before I up and move there, it will be impossible to do so with my current schedule.
So. Anybody been to St Louis, MO? Newark, NJ? Should I be afraid to move to cities ranked among the Most Dangerous Cities in America? Or is 80 grand worth staying in after dark?
About a month ago I sent in an application to a law school, Florida Coastal School of Law, just because the application made me laugh. I had been filling out pages upon pages of applications, answering all kinds of important questions, filling in my educational history, and reviewing my extracurricular activities. All the Florida people wanted to know was my name, address, and whether or not I had ever committed a felony. The entire application filled only one side of a glossy sheet of paper and offered to put me in a drawing for a free trip to Florida! I shouldn't have filled it out and I shouldn't have sent it in since I knew full well that I wouldn't go there, but my students and I were having such a good time filling out the application that I went ahead and dropped it in the mail.
Today I got charged $12 for the Law School Admission Council to send the Florida Coastal people a report. This is typical of the Admission Council, nothing surprising, but I hadn't thought of it when I mailed the application. After I paid the $12 for the report to be sent to a school I do not intend to attend, I went over to a website that calculates my chances of admission. I have, like, a 99.999% chance of receiving an acceptance letter. I guess I can think of it as $12 well spent because that? That is a serious safety school.
Today I had to fill out paperwork regarding my status for next year. I checked the box that I would not be returning to the high school where I work because I would be attending law school instead. There was something very bizarre about resigning before I have even been accepted to a university. I know it is absolutely asinine to even think, considering that I have an excellent GPA and a highly competitive LSAT score, but I can't help but agonize over the possibility of being denied at every institute to which I applied. I even asked the principal's secretary if I could have the form back if I didn't get in to law school. She said yes. Thank God.
I am asked two questions nearly every day--where will I be moving and will Will be going with me.
I'll address the second question first. Um, yes. Duh. We are married after all.
The first question is a little more difficult because I don't know where we will be going. I wanted to fill out an application to every law school in the top 50, just in case, but Will wasn't down with paying several thousand dollars in application fees when my chances are better than 50% for every college to which I applied. I had to settle for my top choices. Plus I got some free applications, so I did some of those as well. Here are the places that have my application on file:
1. George Washington University
2. University of California, Los Angeles
3. University of Notre Dame
4. Boston University
5. Washington and Lee University
6. University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign
7. University of California, Davis
8. University of Maryland
9. American University
10. University of California, Hastings
11. Arizona State University
12. University of Richmond
13. Lewis and Clark College
14. Santa Clara University
15. Seton Hall
16. Saint Louis University, with the possiblity of some crazy full tuition scholarship.
I also have applications started at UC Berkeley and University of Texas, Austin which just need to be transmitted and paid.
Feel free to lobby for the school you think is the best choice! Any alumni out there? I'll take all opinions into consideration. If I even get accepted.
Thanks for all of your warm wishes and congratulations. I started the law school application process by ordering my transcripts and buying a copy of America's Best Graduate Schools. Will and I read through the top 100 schools and highlighted some of our top choices, the places I might like to go to school and the places Will wouldn't mind packing up and moving to. I couldn't figure out what was with the seemingly random selection of schools he liked and asked him what was the deal with the places he preferred.
You guess. What do USC, Ohio State, Florida State, University of Texas, University of Miami, and UCLA all have in common?
Prominent college sports teams. He likes the schools with the best sports.
People, we are about to base the next three years of our lives around a college football team.
A little scary isn't it?
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