|
|
Jeremy's Weblog |
|
|
|
Thursday, May 20, 2004
I just did a law thing. I mean I had an assignment, and I wrote what they asked me to (I hope) and sent it to them. My first law thing. Isn't that exciting? OK, maybe not that exciting. But sort of exciting! Wednesday, May 19, 2004
"You Working On Anything?" [Lights up in a young lawyer's office. Computer, lots of paper, nice window view, perhaps a rotting corpse in the corner. Lawyer is playing solitaire. You can tell it's solitaire because he's transfixed on the screen and clicking the mouse. And because he's alone. Let's call him Fred.] FRED Come on, black queen. Give me a black queen. [LAURA, a slightly older lawyer, is suddenly in the doorway.] LAURA Looking at interracial gay porn again? FRED No, just solitaire. LAURA You working on anything? FRED Billing code 4123-dash-8. LAURA What's that? FRED Bathroom. LAURA Oh. I billed an hour for that this morning. FRED Bored too? LAURA No. Mexican. FRED Gotcha. LAURA SO you want to help me out with something? FRED Sure. LAURA Great. You're gonna hate this. It's what we gave paralegals until they unionized and demanded we stop in their latest contract negotiations. FRED I heard about those. Is that why the paralegals make more than I do? LAURA No. They make more than you because they get overtime when they stay until midnight. FRED I just get free take-out and a car home. LAURA Not anymore. Cars only after 2 AM. And take-out's only breakfast. FRED Great. So what's the job? LAURA Well, I've got fourteen cartons of paper that were just delivered from the paper factory. Imagine, a paper factory getting sued and the case demanding a document review. A paper factory. FRED Like an electric chair manufacturer getting sentenced to death. LAURA I hope you do a rotation through the punchline department this summer, because that one died. FRED Did you mean that to be a pun? LAURA If you're asking, I guess I need some continuing legal education classes myself. FRED So you want me to go through the cartons looking for relevant material. LAURA That's the second step. FRED What's the first? LAURA Translating it all from Arabic. FRED It's in Arabic? LAURA You think they speak English in Minnesota? FRED Yeah, I thought they did. LAURA Not at this company. They make paper. They speak Arabic. And they used these cartons as spitoons for their chewing tobacco. So you might want to wear gloves. FRED Wouldn't it make sense to get someone who speaks Arabic to do this? LAURA Does anything we do make sense? FRED Good point. So where should I start? LAURA Probably with the box marked "1". FRED At least they use our numbers. LAURA That's looking on the bright side. At least you've got a good attitude. That's one of the things we look for. FRED What are the others? LAURA Intelligence, drive, and an inability to say no. FRED I said no to twelve other firms to come here. LAURA Then it's out of your system. FRED When do you need this by? LAURA Friday. FRED And then you'll have something rewarding for me to work on? LAURA Probably not, but you can always hope. FRED Except on Tuesdays. LAURA Right, I see you read the rules. FRED Twice. LAURA Phlegm. FRED Phlegm? LAURA It means good luck in Arabic. FRED No it doesn't. LAURA Are you sure? FRED No. LAURA Okay then. Phlegm. FRED Phlegm. [Laura exits. Lights out.] Tuesday, May 18, 2004
Today I had computer training, which is about how it sounds. Despite hopes for something disastrous and/or uproariously funny to happen, just to make the day more interesting, it was all pretty normal. Thus I'm forced to think outside the box for something to write about. This, I'm sure, has nothing to do with the firm, but the elevators in the building have little screens that show news, weather, sports, etc while you're riding up or down. It strikes me as a little bit sad. Not that it's not nice to have something to read, but is 45 seconds in an elevator really too long to go without some sort of stimulus? I don't mind 45 seconds of contemplation in the elevator, solitary thought or reflection... but apparently society doesn't have time for that anymoe and we need elevator entertainment. Gosh. 5 strange people I saw on the subway yesterday or today: 1. Woman with big visible neck tattoo 2. Man with fluorescent blinking cell phone lights 3. Woman with Slim Jim sticking out of her purse. 4. Man reading math textbook and mouthing the words to himself as he read 5. Woman who kept had both of her hands on the pole and was rubbing them around -- as if the pole was not something to be avoided at all costs. Monday, May 17, 2004
Hello (perhaps) to the one person in my summer class who mentioned he's read this; and, who knows, of course hello to anyone else in my summer class who reads this, although I'm guessing it's probably just the one. Today, really, the firm did nothing but validate that I made a perfectly reasonable choice when choosing between firms. I met lots of people I think I like, real lawyers and other summer associates, and none of the forms we filled out or things we saw on our tour threw up any red flags like "this a cult," "these people are monsters," or "evil is lurking everywhere." My usual concern about these first-day things -- in any context, not just this one specifically -- is that I'm usually awfully quiet at first, that I take a little while to get comfortable and adjust, and fear that it comes off as unfriendly or something, when really I'm just nervous and shy -- but I feel like, for me, I did relatively okay today, and ended up talking to a bunch of people and at least trying reasonably hard to be outgoing and meet people and engage. And I met a bunch of nice people. I honestly have nothing but positive things to say about the day, within the confines that the first day of work is never really going to involve more than adminstrative stuff, anywhere, and so how thrilling can it really be. But that's nothing unexpected, and I have nothing but nice things to say. First we filled out forms. Here's a mix of forms we filled out with forms I'm making up: 1. I-9 immigration form 2. W-2 tax form 3. Denial of liability in case of nuclear attack 4. Emergency contact form 5. Prohibition on insider trading 6. Prohibition on sexual harassment 7. Prohibition on tank tops 8. Prohibition on misplaced commas 9. Prohibition on surfing the web for porn 10. Prohibition on surfing the web not for porn Then we got offices. I have a nice view. After lunch we took a tour of the building. Here's a mix of things I saw and things I'm making up: 1. The elevator bank 2. The nice view from the reception area 3. The records office, which has automatic stacks of shelving that can crush someone to death. 4. The library, which has manual stacks of shelving that can crush someone to death. 5. Bruno, the security guard who can crush someone to death. 6. Petty cash 7. Petty theft 8. Deceased race car driver Richard Petty 9. The office that coordinates the secretary pool 10. The indoor swimming pool 11. The pool table 12. Word processing 13. The stapling center 14. The Staples Center 15. The center of a gigantic stapler 16. The cream-filled center of a gigantic Oreo 17. The Taxicopter, which is a tax form combined with a helicopter. Use your imagination. Then we had a reception, which had food that I couldn't imagine eating since lunch was big and recent. 64 more days! Sunday, May 16, 2004
Expectations for the summer, before the job starts: 1. I expect to learn just how many shades of blue there are. I don't mean sadness. I mean blue like in dress shirts. I expect to see lots of blue shirts, all similar but subtly different from each other. I expect it will be a real education. In blueshirtness. I own 4 blue dress shirts right now. If I were to give each of them a name, they would be "Shiny Blue," "Textured Light Blue," "Dark Blue," and "Blue I think is blue but a bunch of people told me it was gray." But I expect to also learn what "Bright Blue," "Powder Blue," "Electric Blue," "Striped Blue," "Pinstriped Blue," "Blue with white collar," "Used to be blue but ended up with the whites in the laundry and got bleached," "Wishes it was blue but is really sort of pink," "Stained blue," "Sky blue," "Hole in the collar blue," and "Magic marker blue" all look like too. I'll be keeping a list. 2. I expect to be able to more fully articulate the differences between Lexis and Westlaw, what one has and the other hasn't, which one gives better free assistance over e-mail, the pricing differences, which one has a more enthusiastic sales rep, which provides better training, which is more likely to lead me on wild-goose-searches where I end up finding interesting news articles about people I went to elementary school with, which is the more "sensitive" legal research service, what the difference between a Boolean and Natural Language search is, how many digits of my Westlaw password I can memorize without my brain exploding, which is more forgiving of rookie mistakes like selecting the wrong court system to look in, which loads faster, and which smells better. 3. I expect to participate in a lot of summer associate events, in fact probably the same number and exactly the same type as my friends at other firms around the city. In fact, I expect to see large packs of summer associates from other firms leaving Wolfgang Puck's "Le Hamsterie" right as my firm's group is entering; sitting next to us at the Yankees game (where Gary Sheffield will have been expressly instructed to hit a foul ball directly into our section so that one lucky summer associate gets to go home with a souvenir. Yankee tickets bought by the law firm: free; Concessions bought by the law firm: free; Gary Sheffield hitting a foul ball right into your section: $100,000 check from the law firm to Gary Sheffield; if that really happens: priceless); down the row at Wicked: The Musical; three lanes over at the bowling alley... oh, wait, lawyers don't go bowling. Bowling is a blue-collar sport. Lawyers, despite wearing blue shirts, only play white-collar sports, like accounting. 4. I expect to get tired of eating in nice restaurants, since I hear I will end up having a lot of nice lunches. Which will actually be a shame, since eating in a nice restaurant should be a treat, not necessarily an everyday activity. But it will be a nice shame, sort of. Part of me thinks this all may be overblown and I'll actually get to make some lunch plans with friends in the city and not be "booked" every day with work-lunching. But obviously until I start I have no idea. The perfect business meal for a nice blue shirt: soup, pasta with red sauce, something parmagiana, and liquid chocolate raspberry spinning gyroscopes of staining liquid for dessert. Or perhaps I'll just order the dry cereal with white rice, so even if I pour it all on my lap, I can still walk back to the office clean and ready for an afternoon on Lexisicing. 5. I expect to like it. I mean, everyone says it's a lot of fun, I'll get to meet some students from other schools, meet some lawyers, figure out what it is lawyers do, go to some cool events and activities, eat in nice restaurants, see some things besides the inside of a classroom, really what's not to like. Except for the sense that I'll be becoming "one of them." But I suppose I did that when I sent in my law school deposit. I don't know. I guess I'm hoping that not all lawyers live up (down?) to the generic lawyer reputations, although really many of the people I met during the interview process seemed like very nice people, so I don't really think I should be concerned. But I don't know. And not knowing what to expect kind of makes the anticipation fun. A little bit. Saturday, May 15, 2004
I saw "Mean Girls" tonight. I didn't much like it. I thought I'd like it more. UPDATED SUNDAY MORNING: Okay, why didn't I like it? Well, it didn't feel particularly grounded in any sort of reality. Every character was enough of an exaggeration of what the actual "type" might be that, to me, they ceased to be human beings and there was no thread with which to relate. So there were all of these caricatures populating the movie, each with a goal of his or her own, and the interaction just wasn't there. It touched no emotional place, no genuine nugget of feeling. And so all these caricatures existing in their own little worlds limited the potential for funny. The laughs were on one-liner jokes thrown in, and not the more satisfying laughs from situations that are funny and build on the character funny. It just wasn't a satisfying movie, on really any level. I can't imagine the book off of which it was conceived is as shallow as the movie, and says, basically, just that some girls -- The Plastics -- are the royalty of the high school and everyone else is in awe of them or hates them. There had to be more. And I thought the movie was going to do more -- a little while with The Plastics, and then some time with the Fat Girls, or whoever... but it never got away from its first step. So, just not satisfying. I feel dumb for having wanted to see it. That's not a good feeling to leave the theater with -- dumb for having wanted to see the movie. I think Tina Fey is better than this movie, but that something must have gotten derailed along the way, where someone wanted one movie and someone else wanted another movie, and it ended up like this. I don't know. It's not an utter disaster, there's some moments that are entertaining, but it just hangs together as a bunch of disconnected exaggerated characters that don't do anything worth watching. Friday, May 14, 2004
Okay, so you're going to law school in the fall... ...and this is your last summer of freedom. I know I've posted about this stuff before, but since the academic year is over, and there are all sorts of college grads now looking forward to wasting three years of their lives and $120,000 just so they can work 20-hour days in white-collar sweatshops, I figure now is as appropriate time as any to try and formulate some sort of summer-before-law-school advice, all wrapped up in a neat little bow. Ten tips for law students-to-be. Not to be taken completely seriously, because maybe I'm just trying to be funny. Maybe I'm serious. I don't even know anymore. 1. Come up with a neat little 90-second answer to the question, "Why are you in law school?" Whether it's real or invented doesn't matter, it's just that you're going to be asked this question eight hundred times for the next three years, so you may as well figure out something to say. "I want to help people" will get you laughed out of orientation. "I want to help people who are fairly rich become moderately richer" is a little bit better. "I want to help myself" is probably the best one of all. 2. Write yourself a note. I've seen this advice before, but I can't remember where. So I'm stealing it. But my conscience can live with it. Write yourself a note all about the high-minded goals you've got going in. "I'm going to use my law degree to work for Greenpeace and make sure evil politicians don't burn down all the forests and dig for oil in all of the nation's public housing projects." Whatever your dreams are, your idealistic reasons for joining some of America's most successful standardized test takers, write them down, put them in an envelope, seal the envelope, and give it to someone you trust. Then, three years from now, you can look back and cry. 3. Stop imagining that law school is so different from everything else you've ever done before. If you're going to law school, you probably didn't completely screw up college. Law school's a lot more like college than, say, a job is. If you survived college, you'll survive law school. Heck, if you enjoyed college, you'll probably even enjoy law school. Yes, you need to read a bunch of stuff every week. No, this will not be the most grueling three years you've ever experienced, it will not require you cut off contact with your family and friends, it will not require you radically change your lifestyle and force yourself into a miserable existence because you don't think you'll pass Torts otherwise. It's school, you know how to do school, just put in the hours you end up needing to out in, which will probably be fewer than you fear, and you'll be fine. This is not some sort of radically different paradigm. 4. Go on your school's website and look at the extracurricular activities. Find some you're interested in. If you're really interested in them, track down someone involved in them and shoot them an e-mail. They'll be happy to know you. Thinking even broader, find out some stuff in the city you'll be in that you might enjoy doing and see if you can lay the groundwork for getting involved in that too. Even if you do nothing and just keep some ideas in the back of your head come fall, it'll keep you from feeling like there's nothing outside of the classroom, your dorm room, and the library. To stay sane you've got to do stuff you find fun and rewarding and fulfilling and satisfying. Classes may be all of those things. But you'll probably need more. Don't be afraid to find more. This is three years of your life. You don't get any extra credit for being miserable. 5. Write a resume. It will feel like it's much, much, much too soon in the fall when people start frantically looking for summer jobs. If you already have a resume -- and maybe even the start of a cover letter -- it'll just be one less thing to have to deal with. Plus everyone's going to ask you forty times a day if you wrote your resume yet, and this way you can say yes. Anecdotal evidence indicates to me that what you do your summer after 1L year does not impact your 2L job search much if at all. So don't worry if you don't get a law firm job and you're stuck working somewhere you'd rather not be. You'll survive. And, if faced with a choice between two jobs that won't have radically different impacts on your future, choose the one you're going to enjoy more even if it's the one you're more uncomfortable telling your classmates you've accepted. They don't have to live your life, you do. 6. Resolve not to lose touch with everyone you know outside of law school. Whether this means pledging to write e-mails, planning visits in advance, setting up a weekly dinner, starting a weblog... just make sure you have some sort of way to avoid getting so wrapped up in law school that you have nothing else. Even if you like law school. Because at some point law school isn't new anymore, and you're going to feel lonely, and want to reconnect. So why lose touch in the first place. The 3 years goes fast, and then what? Don't lose the life and friends and hobbies and passions you have just because you're going to law school. It's not worth it. 7. Buy big fluffy pillows, a comfortable desk chair, a working alarm clock, a bunch of highlighters, and a t-shirt with the name of your school on it. The first four things are to maximize comfort and productivity. The last is so that when you wander off in a law-induced stupor, someone will know where you belong and lead you back. 8. Ignore anyone who tries to tell you that some sort of week-long law school preparatory class is going to be anything more than a waste of money. That includes ignoring the voices inside your own head that are telling you to go. You won't get a "leg up" and, at worst, you'll be the jackass who keeps raising his hand because he knows the answer and everyone will hate you. If you really want to get a head start, find a 3-page summary on the Internet of all of your classes, and read it. You'll be more prepared than you need to be, but it won't turn you into "one of those people." 9. As soon as you find out what casebooks you're going to be using, go on half.com or Amazon used and buy them there. They're much cheaper. Also, befriend some law students and they'll give you their old study guides. Not worth buying new. Not worth buying at all, really (the study guides I mean -- your casebooks, unfortunately, really are worth buying, and reading, and even occasionally highlighting), but if you can get them for free, why not. 10. Have fun. This is probably not your last summer of freedom, and it may not even be a summer of freedom at all, but it's still important to take advantage. Law school may dull your personality, quash your creativity, and silence your passions. So this may be the last time you're really you, and not some defanged, exhausted, and soul-less version of yourself. So you should do the things you're afraid you won't ever do once you're in law school. Write a novel. Take a pottery class. Make the world's longest paper clip chain. However your spirit moves you. Good luck. And godspeed. I woke up this morning, and I can't believe I've finished two years of law school. It seems like I just started. It goes by quickly. Especially the most recent semester, because by now nothing much is new, and so you get into a routine and time just flies. I'm contemplating a post here, and I'm not sure exactly what I want it to say. On Monday I start my summer job, which hasn't gotten much attention on here since the fall recruiting season, mostly because once they hire you, there's not that much to do until you start working there. I've already mentioned I'm in New York. So that limits the universe to about 4,000 places I could be. I have no idea if anyone at the firm I'll be at reads this already, or even knows it exists. I've got to believe someone has seen it -- if not someone at the firm, then someone in my summer class. Regardless, obviously I write as if they're reading every word. Which, and maybe this is naive, I honestly don't think changes anything, since most of the things I think about and find myself wanting to write about are riffs on reality, and on the insignificant details, not to write Ron Suskind's "The Price of Loyalty" and try to bring down an administration. Frankly, lately I don't feel I've been writing tons of things that are particularly relevant, and interesting, and thought-provoking, and insightful. Maybe I never have been, but I didn't notice it. And hopefully you've enjoyed what I've been writing regardless. I hope you have. But part of me, perhaps naively, feels like this summer gig, at least by being something new and different and interesting, will give me lots of neat new things to say, and breathe some exciting new life into this weblog thing. Two years ago, when I started this, there were not nearly as many law students with weblogs as there are now. People can find out what life is like... pretty much everywhere. But I'm not sure I've seen a ton of summer associate stories. So what I'm saying is that I want to give you something cool here. I want to be a destination. I want to offer something no one else is. So I will try. I may not succeed. But I will try. I've read a decent number of weblog posts that say people are writing for themselves. In a way I'm writing for myself. In a bigger way I'm writing for an audience. In a way, this whole thing has been an experiment to see if I can build an audience, and if I have interesting things to say. I've built a little bit of an audience. This, to me, feels like the point where I say: stick with me. Not because I'm asking you to, but because I'm going to make this worth your three minutes to read it every day. Or at least I'm going to try. I don't what the point of this whole post is. But one of the interesting things about weblogs is the potential for every three days to be a meaningful moment of some sort: it's either your birthday, your weblog's anniversary, your 1000th post, your 100000th visitor, the end of a semester, the beginning of a festival, or the demarcation of some other significant life event. And everything feels worthy of a self-reflective, 800-word creation. Ah, isn't it beautiful. I think I have some never-before-written law school advice posts churning in my head for the weekend. But on Monday I step into a law firm office for the first time not as one seeking a job, but one, uh, seeking a job? I honestly don't really know what to expect. I've heard stories, but do I really believe them? Do I really think they take us out for 2-hour lunches every day? I kind of hope they don't, since I'd hate for a good meal to become such a habit that I can't enjoy it. If you've gotten all the way down here, you deserve some links. If you're still taking exams, or even if you're not, read Waddling Kitchen for some ideas about what to eat. He writes about food well. If you want to know my pre-law-firm conception of a good supervising attorney, see here. For a bad one, see here. All done. 2L year's over. And I'm back in New York. And I'm annoyed that I threw away my Tax code-list, because it was going to make my odd idea for a post really easy to write. I'm going to try anyway. Conversation Between Tax Lawyers At The Watercooler 1: I'm sorry for your 165. 2: Thanks. Although it had really been a 129 for a while. 1: I heard she was a real 74. 2: Maybe. But she had a real problem with 40. 1: 163ing. I never heard that. 2: We kept it quiet. She was in and out of 111. 3: Hey, hey, hey! Guess who had a date last night? 1: Thought it would be a nice day, and 63s you. 2: Yeah, you're 61. 1: That girl was probably just making a 170. 2: I bet she needs 104 after whatever you did to her. 1: Yeah, because spending time with you is a 183 for sure. 3: Hey, hey, at least I had a date and wasn't getting 73. 1: That's 61! 2: Yeah! 1: I wish 101 on you. 2: That goes double for me. 3: Sorry, sorry. I just came by to get some milk for my coffee. Have you seen the 67? 1: All we have is skim. 2: Try the 125. 3: Thanks. [he exits] 1: It would be a 132 to lose him. 2: Definitely. Thursday, May 13, 2004
This is becoming a pattern, isn't it? The early morning post about my exam in just an hour and fifteen minutes. Well, this is the last one. I have a marvelous idea for a post all about Tax, but not the energy to write it yet, so look for that later today or maybe tomorrow. At some point in the next 24 hours I head back to NY for the summer, now that the weather has turned nice here in Cambridge. There are people from my tax class without earshot in the library puzzling over something I should be puzzling over but instead am writing a weblog post. Oh well. We have 4 hours, I have the tax code, I have my notes, if I can't find it and figure it out during the exam, well, then I deserve whatever grade I get. Like that excuse as to why I'm not puzzling over the interaction between 1231 and 1245 and 1221? Yeah, me neither. I think I'm going to press "publish" and start puzzling. Wednesday, May 12, 2004
Diary of an Exam Tuesday, 3:00 PM -- I was born as the 23rd photocopy in the basement of the law school and was added to a large stack. I'm a twin! There are 132 of us, plus one who's missing his back page (birth defect) and a few who are lopsided. Tuesday, 4:00 PM -- Overwhelmed by the smell of toner, I passed out. I awoke to find myself still in the same pile. Wednesday 7:45 AM -- An elderly gentleman put me and my brothers in a box and carried us somewhere. He smelled like sour milk. Wednesday 8:30 AM -- The box was put down in what seemed to be a classroom. Nervous students gathered around me, as I waited for the elderly gentleman to give me to my new owner. This must have been what the slaves felt like. Wednesday 8:36 AM -- My new owner is treating me badly. He's abusive. He folded me in half. It really hurts. And I'm being crushed by his laptop computer in his backpack. This isn't fair. I miss my box. Wednesday 8:44 AM -- We have arrived at his apartment. It smells like sour milk. He burned me with coffee. I hate him. Wednesday 8:52 AM -- He's writing on me. I hope it's not permanent. Mom told me I should never get a tattoo because I'll regret it when I'm old and wrinkled and grayish-white. Wednesday 10:15 AM -- We've been here a long time. I don't know what's going on. He's looking at other papers. He likes them better than me. I tried to get his attention by making myself fall on the floor but he ignored me. Wednesday, 10:42 AM -- I'm still on the floor. He hasn't noticed. Wednesday 10:50 AM -- OUCH! His chair just ran over me. That's gonna leave a mark. And no medical attention. Crap. Wednesday 11:15 AM -- Okay, he just picked me up and he's reading me again. His palms are sweaty. It's kind of disgusting. Wednesday 12:02 PM -- More writing. It doesn't even look like English. Wednesday 1:12 PM -- He RIPPED me! He TORE a piece from me! And wrapped his chewing gum in it and threw it out. That was my spleen, mister! Wednesday 3:30 PM -- I'd heard the rumors but I never thought it would actually happen to me: I've been STAPLED to some fresh-out-of-the-printer exam wannabes. He calls them his "answers," whatever that means. Mom told me never to get my ears pierced. This must be what it feels like. Wednesday 4:30 PM -- Box, sweet box. I'm back with my friends. We've all been stapled. I hope we're not being taken to a concentration camp now. Wednesday 7:21 PM -- The room is dark; it smells like feet; in comes an older man with an unkempt beard and unmatching clothes. Must be a professor. He takes the box. I am apparently going on a trip somewhere. Wednesday 9:11 PM -- The professor has a nice house. Hope he leaves the TV on. Porn. Wednesday 9:49 PM -- No porn, but there's a whole ream of paper in the corner -- NAKED! And posing just for me. You look sexy, blank paper. Although it's a little too thick for me. I prefer 12 lb and this is 15. Friday 1:12 PM -- Touch me, professor! Touch me! Oh, how I long to be touched! Six weeks later, Friday, 4:07 AM -- Touch me, professor! Touch me! It's been so long since anyone has touched me! Saturday, 11:12 AM -- Finally, my needs are being tended. Yeah, scratch right there, by the staple. No, a little bit to the left. Yeah, that's it, that's it, don't stop. Saturday, 11:14 AM -- Why are you writing on me with RED pen?! What do I look like?? Who do you think you are?? Saturday, 11:19 AM -- So the rumors are true. I've just been thrown down a flight of stairs to see where I land. Apparently I'm a B+. So is everyone else in the box. Sunday, 10:01 PM -- It's been a long and fruitful life, but I am at the point of no return. The Hefty Bag on the curb. There's no turning back. I'm ready to go with God. Take me when you're ready. Monday, 6:02 AM -- He's ready. Garbage truck approaching. Monday, 6:04 AM -- NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Monday, 8:13 AM -- I am nearly dead. A first-year law student approaches, picking through the McDonalds' wrappers and empty tubes of hemorrhoid cream. He picks me up. He wipes me off. I am now -- I believe -- a study aide. My parents would be so proud. Here's an article from Monday's Boston Globe about webloggers getting press credentials for the Democratic Convention. It mentions Pandagon, which is a pretty cool site for political news and views (and I'm not just saying that because they linked to my Democratic Debate Parody a while back), and which I didn't realize was written by a 21-year-old and a 19-year-old. Gosh. I feel old. Okay, exam #2 is over. One more to go, and that's Tax, and it's tomorrow. 21 hours until I am finished for a while. Well, until Monday, when I start my summer gig, but let's not get ahead of ourselves here... still got to figure out what section 1045 recapture means. As I was walking over to pick up the exam this morning -- 8:30 this morning -- I passed about eight or ten different people, also on their way to get exams, all drinking Starbucks Frappucinos. At 8:30 in the morning. With the whip cream and caramel syrup and everything. Caffeinated breakfast of champions I guess. I had an Odwalla Carrot/Apple/Orange juice, which is awfully tasty, and a donut, which wasn't so much. That was my entire intake until I gave in the exam and went to grab a sandwich. At 10:30, 2 hours in, the fire alarm in my building went off. Again. (It went off last night too.) So I went to the library for the rest of the exam and did it there. Didn't notice much of a difference. 8-hour exams aren't any fun no matter where you take them. Top Eleven Beverages of Choice (although not my choice) Preceding An 8-Hour-Exam 1. Starbucks Frappucino 2. Dunkin' Donuts Iced Latte 3. Red Bull 4. Protein Shake with Wheatgrass 5. Wheatgrass Shake with Protein 6. Mountain Dew with two tablespoons of sugar added 7. Mountain Dew Code Black 8. Mountain Dew flavored Starbucks Frappucino 9. Mountain Dew flavored Starbucks Frappucino mixed with Red Bull, extra whip cream 10. Cookie Dough (I'm stealing the joke from an old SNL commercial parody -- Cookie Dough as a sports drink.) 11. The Blood of a Young Child 8-hour exam starts in 25 minutes. Communications Law. On the way to the student center, I passed a stray flier on the ground. "Summer Jobs for the Environment." I thought it was ironic, lying on the ground. Maybe not. See you in 8 hours. Tuesday, May 11, 2004
I love the vaudeville routine after every exam -- the "I really want to talk about the exam, but I really don't want to talk about the exam" act that everyone puts on that leads to impossibly vague conversations that do nothing but raise questions. 1: "So... not, uh, terrible, right?" 2: "No, no, it was, uh... not terrible." 1: "On the long one---" 2: "No, no, no substance." 1: "No, just, the long one was not obvious, right?" 2: "No, I didn't think it was obvious." 1: "And the practice exam didn't really..." 2: "I don't know, I don't want to talk about it." 1: "But for the one with the clown... did you use up all the word limit?" 2: "No, no, not even close." 1: "Good, good." 2: "There were a bunch where you had answers that were pretty much the same, right?" 1: "I don't know about a bunch, but more than one, sure." 2: "And you were pretty confident about that?" 1: "Reasonably, I guess." 2: "There was quite a bit of... reading... in the second part." 1: "Yeah, and I was kind of amused by the little trick." 2: "The little trick?" 1: "Yeah, on the third... oh wait, you didn't see the little trick?" 2: "What little trick? No, don't tell me." 1: "It wasn't-- It wasn't that big of a deal, just the way the statute--" 2: "No, no... you opened the statute?" 1: "Yeah, a couple of times." 2: "I just used my notes." 1: "I was going to just use my notes, but then that question with the apricots, and there was nothing--" 2: "The hypothetical from class--" 1: "I don't know. Stop, I don't want to know." 2: "Okay, okay. But certainly the moral of that whole exam was Rule 92. Rule ninety-freakin-two." 1: "92? What? What in the world is Rule 92?" 2: "Nevermind. I didn't mean to--" 1: "Yeah, I don't want to--" 2: "Let's get some lunch." 1: "Okay." Monday, May 10, 2004
Exam this morning was... reasonable. Two more to go. I've written before about proctors, the elderly folks who hand out and collect the exams. Today, however, was a first. One proctor announced, as he began to read the instructions, "Good morning, my name is John [something]. I am the HEAD proctor for this exam. My two ASSISTANT proctors will be handing out the exams as I read these instructions verbatim." He emphasized HEAD and ASSISTANT very much so. This guy was on a freaking power trip because he was the HEAD of the three-person team assigned to hand out law school exams. Insane. At one point, he said, as if anyone cared: "You may notice that the green attendance cards, if you have the new ones, ask for your last name first now. Note the change." Maybe he got appointed to the HEAD proctor position by taking note of details like that. "I will write the time on the board at regular intervals, whenever I remember." Thanks. He really said that. "But, as always, the time will be kept officially by the clock." By the clock? But you're the HEAD proctor!?!?! Shouldn't the HEAD proctor keep the OFFICIAL time? Okay, clearly I've gone insane. I'm in the library right now, and there's a sign right by the computers: Please be advised!!!A few questions raised: 1) What in the world is the "Library Automation Department"??? 2) Why can't they spell-check??? ("Fequently") 3) What in the world makes computers randomly reboot??? 4) Why so many exclamation points??? Scheherazade has an uber-cool post about interviewing a new lawyer for a job at her firm and how young lawyers, without even knowing it, run the risk of becoming "one of them." I may be grossly mischaracterizing her post. Go read it and find out for yourself. I need to post fast, before the computer randomly reboots or the HEAD proctor finds me and cuts off my HEAD. Stream of consciousness one hour and ten minutes before corporations exam Why did I think I needed an hour to eat a danish, check my e-mail, and set my fantasy baseball lineups before my exams, when I really only needed ten minutes, and I could have done it after the exam anyway? I know rule 14-e-3 applies to tender offers only, but I'm not sure what it applies to tender offers only. I hope it doesn't start raining, since I left my umbrella home. Should I go to the bathroom again before my exam? Is there any way to get the song stuck in my head out of my head before the exam? Did I forget anything? Will my disk work? Should I have eaten more than a danish? Should I check again which room my exam is in? I could have read it wrong, I suppose, although I did just check this morning. Should I really be writing a weblog post an hour and six minutes before my exam? Is there any more corporations I can possibly learn? Should I abbreviate business judgment rule as BJR on the exam to make it seem like I'm more comfortable with this language than I really am, or should I just write the whole thing out? Should I just play it by ear based on how close to the word count I am? Is this post funny? If it isn't should I post it anyway? I feel like I'm wasting time, but don't know how to actually be productive doing anything an hour before my exam. I like Blogger's new interface. That was random. I think I know the person sitting down the row at the computer cluster but I'm not sure. Does it matter? He's probably wasting time before an exam too. Do Revlon duties apply if he board doesn't actually want to sell but thinks it's being forced into it? I'm yawning. Did I not sleep enough? Was watching the first half-hour of Charlize Theron's episode of Iside the Actor's Studio really worth sacrificing a half-hour of sleep? Has Charlize Theron really done enough to merit an episode of Inside the Actor's Studio? Are they running out of actors? Is there actually an apostrophe in Actor's on the show, and if there is, is it after the S instead of before? Actors'? Actor's? Actors? We used to call female actors actresses anyway, right? Was there some definied point where that switched? Like the defined point where we switch to Revlon duties? That just sort of fell together, that returning back to corporations seamlessly thing. I didn't plan to make Revlon relevant again after my little Inside the Actors' Studio bit. Hmmm. Interesting. Yawning again. Not good. Glad the exam is only two hours. And starts in 59 minutes. Maybe I should go to the room it's in and stare at my outline. That would be more productive than this. Yeah, that's what I'll do. Okay, stopping now. Really, I am. Done. Done. Done. Done. Done! Sunday, May 09, 2004
Saw the end of the Survivor finale, and the reunion show afterwards, even though I hadn't seen any episodes of this season's Survivor. But it was still sort of interesting. Made the season seem pretty interesting, though I hadn't seen any of it. After the break: a new twist. We'll be decapitating one of the 18 Survivors on national television... and Amber will get to choose who it is. Come on Amber, you've got ten seconds to make your choice! Amber: I choose Rob, since I only said yes to the proposal because I thought he was going to win the million dollars. Now that I've won, I don't want to share it. [audience cheers] [end of Survivor stuff] Had a conversation with a friend today about potential law firm orientation activities, like if they do stuff like play "two truths and a lie" with the summer associates. Bad ideas if they do: >>Making racist comments. ("I'm actually Chinese!") >>Admitting awkward personal stuff. ("I was raped!" "Last night!" "By the guy next to me!") >>Saying stuff that makes it sound like you don't really want to be there. ("My goal in life is to be a stripper!") Exam in 11 hours. Corporations. The practice exams all have fact patterns based on old movies -- Casablanca, Alfred Hitchcock, etc. I'm hoping this year's will be based on Mel Gibson's Passion of the Christ. "A bystander learns of Jesus's impending crucifixion and buys stock in the local wood plank and nail companies. Is he liable under 10-b-5?" "A corporation is started by The Jews. Aren't they all?" "Jesus buys stock, dies, and then, within 6 months, is resurrected, and sells his stock at a profit. Has he violated Rule 16-b?" The Yahoo Fantasy Baseball interface is fine, but this year they eliminated the "are you sure you wanna..." dialog box... and I just accidentally dropped Juan Uribe instead of Rafael Furcal. Clicked the wrong button. Not a big deal, since Uribe's about to lose playing time with Valentin off the DL, and Furcal is sure to get back to health soon, but... wait, you don't care. Sorry. Saturday, May 08, 2004
I am back in Beantown. My computer, sadly, isn't. This morning it imploded before I left. It had been doing weird stuff, but this morning it wouldn't boot. Was able to borrow a laptop from a family friend to take back with me for exams this week (Thursday night I head back to NY for the summer) so I don't have to handwrite. But computers, aren't they something. Seems like everyone at Harvard has computer problems -- I'm not clear if that's the network's fault (everyone seems to get viruses) or what. I have no idea. But my borrowed computer stays off the network, and I'm e-mailing and blogging and all that jazz from the library for the week. Which, actually, will probably make my studying at home a lot more productive, so I don't know that I'm complaining all that vociferously. Anyway, enough about my computer! On the Chinatown bus this evening, I was sitting next to a guy reading a book called "Survival in a Time of Crisis." Frightening. Not sure what crisis he was anticipating. I saw "Avenue Q" on Broadway with a friend this afternoon before heading back up here. Loyal readers will recall I wrote about the soundtrack a bunch of months back. I liked the soundtrack. The show was better than the soundtrack. It was thoroughly entertaining. Thoroughly. I would say more, but if I say more, it will be all about me, and how seeing bad theater/TV/movies makes me feel better about my own skills and possibilities than seeing good theater/TV/movies. But it's getting late, and I want to go watch Saturday Night Live so I can feel better about myself. I am disabused of the notion that I would get as much studying done at home as I would have at school. Nonetheless, I'm really glad I came home for a few days, because it's been awesome seeing some friends and the two shows I've seen. And if costs me a third of a grade in Communications Law, I think I'm okay with that. So there! :) Friday, May 07, 2004
/Includible/ or /Includable/ ?? /Excludible/ or /Excludable/ ?? Maybe this bothers me more than it should, but my tax casebook can't decide, and neither can I. I like them with the /a/ not the /i/, but I'm not sure if that's just personal preference, or I'm actually correct. Random thoughts on the "Friends" finale, which I just finished watching, thanks to the magic of videotape. Keep in mind I haven't seen an episode of friends in at least two years, maybe more. 1. I wish they would have explained that Erica was a surrogate mom, because it took me the longest time to figure out who she was -- when Phoebe told Ross he was going to be an uncle, I guessed she was Chandler's sister, but I still didn't know why she was there and pregnant. But then I finally figured it out. 2. Is Courteney Cox Arquette pregnant? All of her shirts were untucked, and she looked normal-sized, but last time I saw her on TV she looked emaciated, so I'm guessing someone either did an intervention and forced her to stop throwing up, or she's pregnant. Hopefully she's eating while pregnant or she's going to give birth to a skeleton. 3. Who's the dude who wants to get Phoebe pregnant? I know in real life he's Paul Rudd, and was in "Wet Hot American Summer," a very funny movie, but I have no idea why he's on "Friends" and how he's related to Phoebe. 4. The second "muffin" line -- very predictable. 5. Who puts their boarding pass in their bag and buries it in there when they know they're going to have to show it in just a minute? Of everything that didn't ring true in the episode (Ducks in the foosball table??) that was the biggest, and it was totally unnecessary too. 6. For about ten minutes before Phoebe called Rachel on the cell phone I was wondering why they hadn't called her -- why not right when he decided to go after her, like "stop the cab, where are you, I'll meet you there and we'll talk." Stupid. 7. After the article I read yesterday about the lawsuit against the Friends writers I kept wondering when the scene with the [deleted for children's eyes] was coming up, and it never happened. 8. Why does Joey get a spinoff? Watching Monica and Chandler raise those kids looks more interesting to me. 9. Wasn't there a funnier word than "flange" for the plane part? 10. Why couldn't they run into Frasier and his brother and they could all just say goodbye together? |
