RawLaw

2005-09-27T13:25:00.000-04:00

With this, my 200th post, I announce a major overhaul of my blog. Mostly, it means I won't be posting regularly. You may have already figured that out. Truth be told, this blog has never acquired the readership I hoped it would, but I still enjoyed posting. I'm still going to enjoy posting, but I'm not going to force myself to do it.

I will continue to update you on major events in my life and majorly funny things.

For example--and this is SUCH a good example of the stuff I like to see on this blog--Anna Nicole Smith's T&E case over who gets her late husband's fortune is going to the highest court in the land. The Supreme Court is going to do a full-out evaluation of Ms. Smith's fortunes.

2005-09-08T19:10:00.000-04:00

I had my second 3L callback interview today. The process has a dramatically different feel as a 3L. I don't know what firms want. As a 2L, if you get a callback you have to make pleasant conversation and listen attentively while the associates and partners sell you the firm. That gets you an offer. As a 3L, I can't tell if I should be selling them or if they are selling me. It's a crapshoot, and I'm rolling 12s. First you have to convince them that you aren't a river-jumping, whizzing-on-a-partner maniac who managed to lose an offer at your 2L firm. Then you have to prove that you aren't a grass-is-greener type who is going to change firms and promptly spread rumors about the hours, the cheapness, and screamers. So you have to explain why the old firm was good. But then they start to doubt your commitment to change firms and think you are re-interviewing for the pleasurable ego stroke. So then you have to trash your old firm in an optimistic way.

Unsurprising that I haven't gotten any offers yet.

2005-09-06T23:25:00.000-04:00

Cut me some blorking slack. I just started school and I had a callback interview today, so I don't have a lot of free time to blog around with. [So I'm reinterviewing. More on that later.] You'd think that given that I had a big callback, 2 classes for which I did no homework or book purchasing, and about 80 billion chores to do today, I'd wake up worried about one of those items. But No. Instead, I woke up at the ungodly hour of 7:30 because I was replaying in my mind every poker game I lost this summer. Which, by the way, is an obscene amount. I've concluded that I have the worst luck in the world. Never mind the nagging suspicion that I'm actually a lousy card player. Urgh.

2005-09-02T13:15:00.000-04:00

**Please donate money or time to the Hurricane Katrina relief effort. I know your gas prices just spiked, but they need your cash more than you need to top off the tank.**

Let's recap the top three stories of summer associates doing really, really stupid shit:

3. One summer misunderstood her importance in the world and blew off a fun summer event one day to do work. That summer was me. I am ashamed. Offer status: positive, but I think I pushed the boundaries of propriety by the end of the semester. Yesssssss.

3. Some guy went boozing a little too hard one night, woke up late, and drove a firm-rented car to his department's event. He crashed the car into a wall. Then he tried to get the firm to pay for a cab ride to his friend's house that night. Offer status: unknown.

1. Some girl got blotto at a charity event her firm gave her tickets to. She jumped into the Hudson River without the burden of clothing. Let's remember that the Hudson River is full of disgustingly dirty things: severed body parts, sewage, exhaust fluid, and the hair Donald Trump sheds. Offer status: negatory.

Yall have a great loooong weekend. Happy drinking and hot-dogging.

2005-09-01T22:57:00.000-04:00

I'm a woman of my word. That's right. I'm back.

"school" (lowercase to show its insignificance) hasn't really gotten started. For me at least. I'd like to attribute this to 3L syndrome, but really I'm just so fucking lazy.

You see, this summer, working at the Firm, I recognized this "laziness" quality in myself. I always thought I was a hard worker. But firm lawyers work, like, a lot. More than 9 to 7, and I thought I could put them to shame with my 9 to 7 work ethic. Well, 9:30. 10 if I'm out doing sake bombs the night before.

My first day of work I got an assignment at 5:30. The partner said it would take a couple of hours. "Couple" means "2", right? Wrong. I learned Lesson #1 of the Summer of the Firm: Double the amount of time a partner says the assignment will take. Give or take a few more hours, and then don't plan to sleep that night. Now you're ready.

At midnight that first nubile day, I felt a gritty feeling in my rapidly expanding stomach. (Summer lunches are like butter. Yes, butter. The restaurants placed a stick of butter on my plate and I ate the entire thing with a tiny fork and knife. Then I ate the second stick with the big fork and the third stick with the pastry spoon. I couldn't be rude to the associates taking me out to dinner, folks.) So that gritty feeling got bigger as the night wore on. A few more nights like that and that infant irritation blossomed into an ugly bitterness consuming my soul. And that bitterness told me clearly that (a)I don't like working, and (b)I should vomit the butter sticks up in the bathroom pronto.

I didn't vomit the butter sticks up. Even if I didn't harden my work ethic, I'd be damned if I left the Firm Summer with a weak stomach.

2005-06-30T23:12:00.000-04:00

Wow. I can't believe how long it has been since I last posted. I guess I should officially admit that I am on hiatus. Apologies to all those who kept checking back for a new post. That was pretty shitty. I hate it when blogs do that.

Anyway, I am officially on hiatus until, let's say, September the First. I will return with lots of incisive and witty law school and law firm gossip.

And just so you all know, cuz I know you thought about it--that summer associate who got boozified and jumped in the Hudson River, the one the Coast Guard had to fish out--that wasn't me.

2005-06-01T07:47:00.000-04:00

Um, I'm freaking out a little. No lie. My first Firm assignment involves a kind of law I know nothing about. I just Googled the kind of law and now I memorized the definition, but I don't understand what it means. I need to Control+F my old class notes now for any information whatsoever on this kind of law. Why is law school so useless?

On another front, it's time for me to consider what classes to register for next year. I'm fighting myself on this one. Do I take the useful classes or the easy ones? I'll be a 3L, but I've never been one to shirk my academic duties before. But I think I haven't shirked my academic duties because I've always set my standards so low. I don't want to set myself up for failure in what better be my last year of academic life! I'm leaning toward the easy classes.

2005-05-31T07:21:00.000-04:00

Maybe you thought I partially abandoned you, like Legal Underground and Jason Mulgrew. Or I abandoned you in whole, like LawLush. But mostly I spent the last week gallivanting about town in a drunken, BBQed stupor making me unfit to inscribe anything with remotely comprehensible syntax.

That was the good news. That bad news is that I start working for the Firm today. And of course the most important consequence of working is its effect on my blog and you, dear readers. We will see how much posting I can get done on what topics. While I am sure that law firm life will present myriad topics worth disclosing, I need to make better friends with my old enemy, Prudence.

Now here are the top three points of comparison between firms, as I discern them from speaking with summer associate friends who have started already: (1)direct deposit of paycheck?; (2)average price of lunches bought for you; (3)nights you remain in the office past 6:30 in the first week.

Wish me luck.

2005-05-23T07:57:00.000-04:00

I'm meeting some people from my summer firm for a preview breakfast today. And the big question is: pantyhose or not? On one hand, I want to make a good impression. On the other, pantyhose are tools of oppression and torture. I've been weighing this decision for three days now. I think I'm going to kowtow to The Man. Unless I get these buggers on and they are too tight. Then I'll shred them with scissors and dangle them in front of a male partner's face and say NO! YOU CANNOT HOLD ME DOWN! Keep your rules off my body!

Hmph.

2005-05-18T20:56:00.000-04:00

Just got a phone call from the Borker. Turns out my firm misplaced their trust in this d-bag. The apartment I was supposed to live in this summer fell through. So, I'm starting work in two weeks and I have nowhere to live. Shit shit shit. I am supposed to be at the beach right now, alchemizing the hidden patches of white skin on my body. Instaed, I'm back on Craig's List. Ugh.

2005-05-18T12:24:00.000-04:00

I'm going to see a movie today! And I've watched 4 movies over the last 4 days in front of a ginormous television. I promise I'm not going to a Star Wars preview or anything. Law students and Star Wars fans don't mix well.

2005-05-17T17:39:00.000-04:00

Um, yeah, sorry I've been absent. I have been sleeping 10 hours a night plus 2 2-hour naps each day. Doesn't leave a lot of blogging time. It does leave time for visiting my favorite restaurants, which I've neglected in the last month. Also time for the gym and I detox my poor, broken body. I will be done with this funk soon, and then I'll have to confront the question of how to deal with my firm summer on this blog.

2005-05-12T18:47:00.000-04:00

A Collection of Thoughts Toward the End of Exam Season

I can almost taste the end. It tastes like Michigan blueberries.

There are two things that make me really fucking happy in this world: puppies and fiction books.

Now that I know I'll be spending half my summer abroad, how much fudging of the truth will I and should I do on this blog while I'm there?

I came to law school hoping to do something glamorous and mark-making. The book I have decided are useful enough to stay on my shelves are M&A, Contracts, and Corporations. I might be selling out. I think it's more that I find solace in the practical after the giant question marks of Con Law and Civil Procedure.

Whole-wheat bread beats the smack out of white bread.

If my contacts dry out from the computer screen, it's better to re-wet them than to change them out for glasses. Glasses are a totally different way of looking at a computer and it weirds me out at 3:00 in the morning.

Sleep deprivation is bad for the mind. But the emotional depression that comes from deprivation, then oversleeping, then the specter of deprivation on the horizon is wilting my willpower to live.

Just a few days until vacation.

2005-05-10T14:42:00.000-04:00

It's very hazy now, but about three weeks ago I remember filling out a birthday surprise card at a local bar. They were going to send me a free drink coupon on my birthday, and I got entered in some contest to win a free meal. At a bar like this, "meal" consists of some unindentified white meat fried up good and greasy, and a cheeseburger. That was fine with me, though, so I entered. Today I'm desperately cramming for my next exam--not quite the level of concentration zen I had achieved the night of the light bulb conflagration, but close--and I get a phone call from the bar. I was irritated until the bar person informed me that I had won the grand prize of the lottery and would get top-shelf open bar for me and ten friends for five hours. SCORE. I subsequently considered this bartender my best friend and had a nice, long chat pouring out my troubles and how great this would be. Also, Bartender sounded cute.

"Can I have your email?" Bartender said. "I want to send you some details and stuff." I knew this means he totally wanted my email to chat me up and ask me out on a date not in front of his boss.

An hour later, giddy with an aura of luck destined to spill over into my next exam, I checked my email. Bartender's oh-so-trivial details are there: the top-shelf open bar is solely for me, the ten friends must buy their own drinks, and, oh yeah, the ten friends had to come equipped with vaginas. LAME. I could call Bartender and explain to him the consequences of preying on potentially alcoholic law students during exam time. And by explain I mean shriek and alternately whimper. Instead I politely told him to take me off his spam and solicitation lists. I couldn't stand the thought of never getting to eat one of their "chicken" fingers ever again.

2005-05-06T17:08:00.000-04:00

It was 5:00 a.m., this morning. I was willing my eyes to focus on the last exam question. There was dead silence in my house. Nothing stirred as I concentrated, concentrated, concentrated on the pages. My brain was mush, but I finally started getting through it. And then, POP. My desk lamp light bulb blew up, startling me and abandoning me into darkness (actually a grey-ish morning light--who knew it got light that early?). So I did what any normal law student would do: I proceeded to have a full-fledged emotional breakdown.

I stumbled around the house, hysterically crying, desperately seeking a lightbulb or a razor blade, whichever came first. I wrote a hallucinatory email to my friends. I concocted ways I could record my horror at this exam, which I can conservatively say was the most impossible exam ever given, and effectively convey them to the professor in a format designed to make him feel as guilty as possible. I thought splicing in scenes from concentration camps might do the trick. And then I found a lightbulb and dashed off the rest of my exam in an hour, before tucking myself gingerly into bed with a box of tissues.

I wonder how abnormal this is.

2005-05-04T11:13:00.000-04:00

Fine, I admit it: I watched that Scrubs/ER-wannabe TV show on Sunday night. I forgot the name of it. You know, the one that devoured the Boston Legal time slot. I know watching made me a disloyal hypocrite. I promise I didn't enjoy it that much. I can't say I'll never watch it again, even though I'm wracked with guilt. But my god--after a lovely dose of Desperate Housewives, I'm in the mood for some ribald Denny Crane jokes, not a life-and-death struggle.

The show [I just had to look up the name out of annoyance: Grey's Anatomy] did get me to theorizing about the differences between lawyers and doctors, though. The way I see it, we're headed for an ultimate civil revolution with doctors leading one side and lawyers the other. Mark my words: the Grey's Anatomy/Boston Legal replacement is going to spark it. Well, maybe not, but take Exhibit B: the battle over medical malpractice and insurance costs. Or Exhibit C: the doctors I know personally are conservative jackasses who refuse to change by, say, promoting women. Did I ever tell you about the time a well-established, older doctor friend told me he wouldn't hire women because they don't need the money to feed their family? I'm stereotyping here, I know, but there's something to this opposing worldview. Lawyers think doctors are greedy automatons, and doctors think lawyers are greedy residents of an ivory tower. I'm envisioning this giant clash: doctors led by Patrick Dempsey (mmm) attack with scalpels, and lawyers fight back with an overly-complicated flanking maneuver under the control of a steely Candice Bergen. Who will prevail in this epic contest?

Yes, I have an exam in 24 hours.

2005-05-03T12:24:00.000-04:00

Know what is a damn dirty trick? Multi-part questions on exams. A question with four totally unrelated sections, and four fact patterns, is NOT one question. If I have to flip through more than five pages of an outline to answer the question, it is clearly several mischievous questions masquerading as one. I don't care how you dress it up: parts a,b,c,d; or one big paragraph question; or spreading out statements over a page to deceive us into trying for one-paragraph answers. It's a LIE. No one likes a liar, Professor Cheat. It's such self-deception, too. Professors know this is a real question. They know it covers a totally different subject matter. But they attach it anyway in hopes that the act of listing questions on the same page will result in our spending the same amount of time on it as we do on single questions. I conclude this reveals problems of character, and an inability to deal with reality. In other words, such professors ought to be committed.

2005-05-02T18:50:00.000-04:00

I got so involved in studying last night (read: desperately cramming) that I stayed up until 6:00 in the morning. I still slept for six hours, but now I feel miserable. Law school allows me to set my own schedule. Because I am a law student and thus anal, "setting my own schedule" translates into "rigid bedtime." I haven't deviated from my bedtime in a month. I know this is pathetic. Law school is a bitch, and this is my little way of asserting control. Unfortunately, my nail-digging grip on the bedtime hour apparently makes my body physically incapable of coping with change. It refuses to study today. It keeps falling asleep. And it continuously emits a dull ache. It's out of control, and I don't appreciate its childish decision to act out this close to exam season. Bad body.

2005-04-28T12:26:00.000-04:00

I decided to try some yoga yesterday to relax and stop panicking about the reading my classes are throwing at me now, at the end of the semester. It seemed relaxing and fun at the time. It's been years since I tried a headstand. Today, of course, I regret it with every fiber of my muscle. Ow. Ow. Ow. I have this searing pain every time I budge my left ribcage. According to some anatomy websites I cursorily checked to diagnose myself, there is nothing there that should be hurting. Even better--my neck is permanently cricked back a bit. This makes that dumptruck of reading nearly impossible to do, unless i sit on the floor and prop my book upright on my desk. So now I am in extreme emotional and physical distress, and yoga is to blame. Whosoever invented yoga should be subject to the Bush definition of torture.

2005-04-26T17:37:00.000-04:00

My firm is not cultivating my loyalty right now. I wore sweatpants to class today. My neighbor wore a gorgeous spring dress. I complimented her choice, then asked where she got such a luxurious dress. She named a top-flight designer of considerable expense, and said something to the effect of, “I have soooooooo much money from a costless cash advance my summer firm extended to me that I bathe in it daily. I've barely dented the stack with my purchase of several exorbitantly priced pieces of fabric to drape myself in. I woke up this morning, arose from my bed of greenbacks, wiped the sleep from my eyes, and grabbed this one willy-nilly.”

The cash advance is a really wonderful concept. It alleviates the inevitable financial difficulties that emerge at the end of the semester, when loan money runs out. This unfortunately coincides with exam season, when you don’t have the energy to seek out cheap food and you make frequent purchases of candy and chips to stave off depression.

Needless to say, my summer firm did not offer me an advance. Many of my 2L friends are flush with cash. Meanwhile, I am milking the dregs of my spring semester loan, disbursed in January. Alas.

2005-04-25T18:09:00.000-04:00

I was hoping that Passover last weekend would retard everyone else at school's studying enough to let me catch up. Not suprisingly, I diddled around all weekend and didn't get anything done. This is a sad story cried way too many times on law school student blogs, though, so I'm not going to talk about this anymore.

I think I have writer's/studier's block. All I want to do is go watch TV.

2005-04-24T13:58:00.000-04:00

Why won't they just lay off of Martha Stewart!? After approving her attendance at Time's 100 Most Influential People honorary dinner, now the U.S. Probation Department is investigating her because the dinner might not have been as business-oriented as she said it was. It's a freaking networking dinner! It's called "d-i-n-n-e-r" in the title. It's obviously a hybrid entertainment-networking event. How could they possibly claim to have been misled on this? Shame on them.

2005-04-22T09:35:00.000-04:00

In observance of a Friday near the end of my semester, when I should be outlining and meta-analyzing themes of the course, I'm going to indulge in a small bit of meta-analyzing of law school.

It just hit me that I am officially on board the slow, writhing, and tortuous decline of my 2L year. What's that stupid maxim: "Scare you to death in the first year, work you to death in the second year, bore you to death in the third year"? Honky. Maybe it applies when you don't have a permanent job locked up in the first semester of your second year, but it isn't worth the breath it takes for all those people I meet who find out I'm in my 2L year to say. The pressure drops dramatically after first year. It actually drops dramatically after first semester, because then you know if your grades are good enough to get you a firm job for your 1L summer, and you have a better idea of where you sit in the pack. Even if you can't ease off studying in second semester of your first year, you at least have an idea of how much is too much.

If you cut to the chase, first year is the last and only real year. Ergo, I am nearly done with law school. Kick ass.

There's a little more sentimentality in that "kick ass" than I would have expected had you asked me at the end of my first year, or after the debacle of visiting professor-horror in my fall 2L semester. Dare I say I found better teachers, and classes that may interest me this semester? It's possible. I'm feeling a twinge of satisfaction with law school this year. When you strip away grades, and outlining, and required class attendance, and the pressure-cooking pot of exam season, law school can become an almost likeable affair.

Before I get too snuggly about this, let me add that my law firm blabs and blabs about how on top of their shit they are, and it is now a month or so until I start working, and I have no idea
(a)what partner I will be working with,
(b) what department I will be working in, or
(c)what city I will be working in.
That is messed up, and I will become increasingly whiny about this until I receive direction.

So don't worry too much, readers. I may be sentimental in one area, but I will still be shrill in another. I've always got that bipolar balance.

2005-04-20T21:41:00.000-04:00

So we all know by now that one of my favorite blogs is Jason Mulgrew's Everything is Wrong With Me. Mulgrew and I have had a correspondence going since he offered to link blogs. Turns out that the shit has hit the fan at Everything is Wrong With Me. Here's the news from Mulgrew himself:

In December of last year, an agent in LA "discovered" my site. I accepted his offer to take me on as a client, and since his judgment was/is impaired, we are currently in the process of turning "Everything is wrong with me" into a TV show. Over the past three months as I have been writing and developing the show, I have met with Comedy Central (twice), representatives from a fancy-pants production studio, and am meeting soon with Fox, all of whom have expressed interest in the show. This leads me to one conclusion: the current state of television is very, very bad.

(Most recently, Random House has contacted me about turning the site into a book. This is still in its incipient stages, as we have only begun talking about this, but if I somehow get paid to write dick jokes in a book, I may never read again. Because really, all hope is lost if that happens. Good lord.)

So best of luck to Mulgrew. I hope it turns out great. I say that wholeheartedly, and without even the tiniest twinge of jealousy. Nope. None.

2005-04-20T21:35:00.000-04:00

New roll-worthy blog!: I put Barely Legal in the blogroll. They are fun.

2005-04-20T09:17:00.000-04:00

Tom DeLay is a psychotic, sinking ship. Playing dirty politics with Congressman may be de rigueur for him, but what is he trying to accomplish by singling out Justice Kennedy, who by all accounts is still a conservative! DeLay faulted Kennedy for using international law in his arguments: "We've got Justice Kennedy writing decisions based upon international law, not the Constitution of the United States? That's just outrageous." As OUTRAGEOUS as that is, and at least it is controversial, DeLay goes on to berate Kennedy because "he said in session that he does his own research on the Internet? That is just incredibly outrageous." Pack up your Westlaw passes, boys and girls. Republican leadership says we are going back to the time when a law firm's library was its crown.

As the elusive LawBot said, "that's kind of funny, as though Kennedy is googling 'should juveniles be put to death' and basing his opinions on what comes up."

I'm so disheartened I can't even close this wittily.

2005-04-19T21:42:00.000-04:00

Update on the new food pyramid's despotic and patronizing advice for me:

"To eat more whole grains, substitute a whole-grain product for a refined product – such as eating whole-wheat bread instead of white bread. . . It’s important to substitute the whole-grain product for the refined one, rather than adding the whole-grain product."

2005-04-19T14:37:00.000-04:00

Friendly Note

It’s free cone day at Ben and Jerry’s. God bless those hippies.

And since I’m feeling particularly happy after my ice cream, I’d like to congratulate/welcome/bow to the new Pope. I guess I’ll acknowledge it, at least. I was a little heartbroken that such a dinosaur of a theologian was elected, but my fear didn’t rise to the level of a friend I told, who immediately said, “They elected a Nazi Pope!” I try to always remember that it was Nixon, the commie-hating stick-in-the-mud, who had the political capital to open China. Not that Catholicism is as bad as China. You get my point.

2005-04-19T11:57:00.000-04:00

Announcing the new food pyramid! No longer will everyone have to use the pyramid of a 35 year old man. This website allows you to enter a few key pieces of information, and voila!, your own personalized food pyramid appears!

I entered my personal data with the intent of reporting to you fine readers what my nutritional intake ought to look like. What could it be? Buttercream crepes, chocolate souffles, and duck, I guessed. So I entered in age, and sex, and amount of exercise, and set my pyramid to work. After churning and churning and churning, it spat this out:

STOP EATING RIGHT NOW. IT IS BETTER FOR YOU TO STARVE THAN TO HAVE A BALANCED DIET, YOU FAT FUCK. HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY BE THAT YOUNG AND DO SO LITTLE EXERCISE? YOU ARE AN UNPRODUCTIVE MEMBER OF SOCIETY. YOU HAVE SHAMED YOURSELF, THE DEPARTMENT OF AGRICULTURE, AND YOUR COUNTRY.

I liked the old pyramid better.

2005-04-18T18:53:00.000-04:00

As exam season approaches once again, I find myself responding somewhat differently than I have in the past. Well, I'm still stocking up on Diet Dr. Pepper and Twix bars (so long, eDiet). But for the first time ever, and please conceal your laughter here, I have done no advance outlining for my exams. It may be crazy that I ever did advance outlining, but I am anal retentive.

Furthermore, with T-minus just a few days until exam season, I feel only a small itch of anxiety. It's more like a scratchy throat cough than the insomnia-inducing attack I usually fend off. In fact, these past few days, I have even found time to squeeze in a nap.

Some people make me feel good about my sea change in attitude. For example, I am 100% proof positive that my apartment-mate has not read anything past the 3rd week of school. I don't think this is atypical. But then I get Instant Messages from the other kind, who ask me if I am ever coming to study in the library again because they have been there for a month already. Or the kind who ask me if I am going to do the "not required" portion of the syllabus because it might come in handy. This kind causes the tickle in my throat. If it wasn't for them, I would probably be outside right now, hop-scotching or jumping rope.

2005-04-17T09:26:00.000-04:00

Anonymous-Law Student has confronted my disorganization in the "Firm Gossip" series. He's made a guess and I should probably respond to guesses somehow. However, I don't want to start giving away the answers to my sneaky riddles. I also would like to incentivize commenting. [Spellcheck says incentivize is not a word, but I know I've heard six different professors use it, so I'm going with it.]

So here's the policy: I'll wait until there's a critical mass of guesses, and then I'll respond by nixing the good guesses that aren't right. So if there are 3 guesses, I might nix one. If there are five guesses, I'll nix two or three. If there are a lot of guesses, I will nix at least half of them and, because I'm generous, I'll let you know if the right one is there.

This is sort of similar to the format used by the Awful Truth, which I hope you know about. It's this smarmy, invasive, unsubstantiated, probably mostly accurate gossip column on Hollywood stars. E! hosts it, so you know it is good. Any TV network that can appropriately stick the most passionate punctuation mark after a single vowel knows how to do drama, in my opinion.

2005-04-16T00:22:00.000-04:00

Firm Gossip #4

Am I on #4? I can't remember. My bottle of booze said I am.

Let's play Name That Firm. Which firm of stellar reputation is phoning up law students who are elected EIC (to the uninitiated, that is the lame ass acronym for Editor-in-Chief used by journal board members who are too busy to pronounce all 5 syllables of "Editor-in-Chief" and instead try to get you to come in for "voluntary" office hours to help them with their work because they didn't consider the full consequences of running for the board)? Is said stellar firm congratulaiting new EICs? NO. Well, yes, but even more juicy--they are offering them positions. As in, "Hi new EIC! I know you committed to another good firm last October, but we would like to declare open season on poaching for the upcoming summer." No hints on this one. I'm violating the rules of practicing safe blogging already. I'm so bad at this.

2005-04-13T23:54:00.000-04:00

My borker told me today that lawyers can automatically become brokers and notaries and such. This sounds like fun. I would like my business card to read "RawLaw / Lawyer, borker, notary, and jill-of-all trades." I don't like boxes.

Borker also confessed that he is taking the LSATS for law school. I normally have one of two reactions to this kind of news. Reaction 1: Scoff and laugh with derision, knowing that justice will, in fact, be done on this a-hole. Reaction 2: Attempt to minimize the horrified expression on my face and dissuade as if human life depended on it (unless that life was mini-Britney. The world just doesn't need a whacked-out Spears-Federline spawn). I had a new reaction today: exploitation. I offered to tutor borker in LSATs as part of his sodomizing borker fee. Never mind that I don't remember much about the test. I just remember that Kaplan or Testmasters or Princeton Review cost a few grand. Score.

2005-04-12T00:55:00.000-04:00

Dear ABC,

You smug son of a bitch. How could you pilfer the timeslot of the wonderful Boston Legal and give it to the sub-par Grey's Anatomy? HOW COULD YOU? You dropped the bottom out in the smack middle of the season, and this I consider traitorous and cruel without reason. I sentence you to death at dawn. There's plenty of fucking time slots with really bad ABC shows. Why couldn't you just give the inane stupid thinly-veiled-variant-on-Scrubs its own time slot?

Sunday was my favorite TV night. You cut me deep, ABC. Real deep. After a season of fabulous shows, I was starting to really respect and trust you. I felt really comfortable just hanging out with you. I didn't even have to get dressed up or put on makeup anymore. When I heard the rumor that you had just signed Rupert Everett to be a new lawyer on Boston Legal, I got giddy with anticipation. Rupert Everett and Heather Locklear in one season! Delish! I was starting to trip on how happy we could be (And so I put this on my life--nobody or nothin will ever come between us, And I promise I'll give my life, My love and my trust If you was my boyfriend).

You could have at least had the respect to tell me to my face that you stopped caring about me and my needs. I had to hear it from E. Spat.

You cut out my heart with a spoon. I will never be able to trust you again. I'm sending you my therapy bills, you heartless slug of a network.

Sincerely,
RawLaw

2005-04-10T19:57:00.000-04:00

Here's a mostly worthless article about how to practice safe blogging. The author suggests that you not blog at all, but that is so unrealistic. I mean, kids are going to be kids. They're going to want to experiment with blogging. I think we should just accept their natural urges and not shame them. Otherwise we're just going to produce a lot of guilt, and guilt has consequences. Like feeling guilty all the time.

2005-04-08T12:14:00.000-04:00

The firm I'm working at this summer has hooked me up with a real estate agent to find a temporary place. The Borker is a lying son of Judas who charges an obscene fee for minimal service. That wasn't a Jew slur, because the Borker is Russian. So much for communism. He's using his bear claws to shred my bank account. Electronically ticking off the "no roaches" and "no locations across from hospital emergency rooms" boxes, for example, nets him three grand alone.

The firm says I am getting a good deal. Insert fawning appreciation here.

Here's my conversation with the Borker today:
Borker: "What kind of law are you practicing?"
RL: "I don't know."
Borker: "If you are doing corporate law then you'll make a lot of money."
RL: (V. uncomfortable and now irritated.) "Yeah, I didn't know that."
Borker: How much money are you making?"
RL: "Well, I want to pay [this much]."
Borker: "You can't find anything for that. What kind of place are you looking for?"
RL: "One I can live in."
Borker: "But like, what kind of amenities?"
RL: "Didn't you write down what I told you yesterday?"
Borker: "I don't think we talked about this yesterday. Can you come in and fill out some paperwork? I love paperwork so much that I eat it for snack. I nap on it too. I have a bed of paperwork under my desk. I nestle in it and tear it with my teeth when I'm acting like a hamster. Do you have any fetishes?"

My Borker is going to screw me.

2005-04-07T01:34:00.000-04:00

I need to buy some business casual clothing. Any ideas? Banana is the standard fare, but everyone is going to wear Banana. Ideas for good suit shopping places will help, too. I'm almost willing to reveal my geographic location if you can find me a cheap outfit that makes me look like partner material. If you can achieve that, you deserve it.

2005-04-05T21:12:00.000-04:00

I spend a lot of my life on Instant Messenger. Like, 80%. I even type when I'm sleeping. So I think I'm going to begin a series on this blog creatively titled "IM Conversations." Here's the first installment:

RawLaw: is Ginsburg a total fucking idiot or what?
RawLaw: do they let her write anything?
Eggo (reliable internet chatter friend): no
Eggo: they don't let her write
Eggo: she is incoherent
Eggo: she is like--here is my holding
Eggo: X
Eggo: and then she will be like
Eggo: and so slaladsjfoiwuelnvlakhe;otihaejwtlkscf
Eggo: something totally unrelated
Eggo: blah blah and that is my theory on creation
Eggo: and here is what i think about ponies....
Eggo: mmmm
Eggo: shiny
RawLaw: can i post this? you need a pseudonym though.
RawLaw: I used Eggo.
Eggo: Wtf? because you think i have an ego?
RawLaw: I really want a waffle right now.

And that, my friends, is an excellent use of a class hour.

2005-04-05T08:32:00.000-04:00

I find it more difficult to blog when I'm actually enjoying law school. I haven't turned to the dark side or anything--I've just been engaged in all-consuming activities on the fringe of law school rather than doing work. Class keeps getting cancelled or we have semi-interesting speakers come in. It's amazing how much more satisfying life can be. Maybe I'm just feeling giddy because there's a spring ether in the air. Maybe it's that inability to adjust to change has morphed my jet lag into a new schedule: early to bed, early to rise. Coupled with daylight savings time, which I will never approve of because it ravishes an hour of my sleeping time, I think I've seen more daylight in the past week than I did my entire fall semester.

Speaking of schedules, my favorite time in law school is almost here--course selection time! This is a time of heartbreaking promise, when lazy professors and shit-brown casebooks haven't fouled my inherent curiosity in the subject matter. I got to cultivate this curiosity a little last year. Now, I've taken all the stupid classes my employers told me to take when I was trying to make conversation in my job interviews. Tax, Corporations, etc. are all out of the way. I am stacking my schedule with seminars that eschew exams and attendance. I'm finally practicing the secret of managing law school: the less "law" you do, the happier you are.

2005-04-02T00:21:00.000-05:00

Indulge me as I hate on the liberal Nazis just a little bit more. Because I don't believe in their radical agenda, I am being cock-blocked at every turn. I am getting no help and no cooperation. It's like my entire advocacy group has shut down because I dared to assert a different opinion. They are not even listening to me. I can't comprehend this level of shut-down in the face of an event that is supposed to make the world better. This is why the Democratic party is in such shambles.

2005-03-30T10:53:00.000-05:00

Firm Gossip Report

Heard of Bracewell & Patterson? Large Houston-based firm? Well, you won't anymore! Bracewell & Patterson is becoming Bracewell & Giuliani. As in Rudy--former mayor of NYC, 9-11 hero, and let's not forget--abortion supporter. You see, word on the Houston streets is that Rudy needs to buck up his conservative, Southern support to make a run at the White House. Texas gossip say this is Rudy's chosen political means. Pretty ingenious, I think.

2005-03-30T10:50:00.000-05:00

Researcher and lawyer extraordinaire that I am, I received congratulations in a comment from Mike of Crime & Federalism, for my recent win in the Blockbuster case. Blockbuster just settled allegations of deceptive advertising for $630 million with 47 states (excluding Jersey, for one, which has already filed suit). Well, I suppose it isn't so much "my" win, since all I really did was bitch and moan about their hidden charges. It's a moral win, though. The NJAG probably reads my blog and all, so I think I deserve journalistic credit on this at the very least. I'm patting myself on the back. Oooh, I think I'll get a massage.

2005-03-29T15:39:00.000-05:00

Whole-grains are an easy nutritional requirement to fulfill. Especially if your whole grain bread is called "Bimbo" (see picture).

2005-03-28T23:48:00.000-05:00

I'm nursing my fingers from handing out something like 1500 flyers today promoting my mini-protest. Paper is pain. I have something like twelve paper cuts, and the pages have somehow worn the pads of my fingers smooth. How is that possible? Do mailpersons deal with this? Do they have all the prints of their fingers rubbed off? It always looks so cool in the movies, but it's kind of not cool when my fingers are all slippery on the keyboard.

I am sick of eating like crap and spending my life savings on pizza delivery, so I'm starting this eDiet thing. Basically, eDiets tells me exactly what to eat all the time. It gives me a shopping list, recipes, the works. I spent two hours in the grocery store yesterday trying to figure out which bunch of green stuff was cilantro and which was parsley. I harassed the produce man so much he left his cart in the aisle and ran off. How was I supposed to know that a green onion is the same as a scallion? I made this fish stew tonight that actually tasted good, and I only cut myself with the knife once while chopping. I blame it on my textureless fingers. I forgot how relaxing cooking can be. Even with my enjoyment, the over/under on me staying on this meal plan is 3 days. McDonald's is just so much easier.

2005-03-25T18:16:00.000-05:00

Had lunch today with an old friend who lives in Colorado and works at a ski resort. She pays her rent with her income from 4o hours per week, has a furnished apartment subsidized by the resort, and takes public transportation everywhere so she doesn't make car or insurance payments. She snowboards on her days off and hikes during the summer. She gets free lift passes to several resorts and reduced prices on equipment. This is how she occupies her life. All she did was pop over to the main office of the resort when she was on a ski vacation, and she's settled and happy.

I almost hopped on a plane with her to apply for a job. It sounded so easy, and 200 pages of Con Law was daring me to do it. Then I remembered my loan payments, and the ski resort salary lost the apparition of adequacy. Plus, then I'd have to change the name of this blog. Altogether too much hassle.

2005-03-23T23:23:00.000-05:00

There's a group in law school who really loves helping the disadvantaged. God bless them. But my GOD are they self-righteous. They want you to quit your job because of their principles, and if you dissent from their principles, you are a disgusting waste of space on this green earth. They have no concept of different means, same ends. They believe in radical change, right now, starting in your law school. Which all sounds well and good until they realized they lack both the money and power to effect such change.

Cue the pickle I'm in now. I've solicited money to stage a small-stage, effective protest. The revolutionaries are trying to hijack the money to bring down law enforcement across the state or something.

This cabal makes me look like Richard Nixon. I don't relish the comparison. But it's better than being a smug, martyr-playing, impotent hippie.

2005-03-22T18:23:00.000-05:00

Gap is going to style hell. Who fires SJP and lives to tell? It's like firing Bob Dole for Viagra commercials--unthinkable. SJP is the spokesperson for fashion. You just dont' do it. No more Gap for me, as if I wanted the overpriced jeans and lesbian blazers they market anyway.

2005-03-21T19:26:00.000-05:00

Mrs. Delta Skymiles just told me I can't use the billions of Skymiles I accumulated over Spring Break for an international trip next August. August. That's more than four months away. "We open up Skymiles seats 331 days in advance," she explained. Who plans their vacations 331 days in advance?! Who gets to do that? Because that is the job I want. I wanted to sidekick through the phone into that woman's stomach. It's going to cost me $600 now, and I have 7 bujillion Skymiles sitting the account without any purpose whatsover. I hate you, Delta.

2005-03-19T20:22:00.000-05:00

Back from the trip! Very good time. I'm having two overwhelming thoughts right now: (1) It's so much easier to fight jet lag when you can just stay up later rather than go to sleep earlier, and (2) oh my god I hate law school. I lifted myself out of the permanent stupor law school invites for a week and it was wonderful and eye-opening. I want to cry looking at the reading for the next couple of days.

2005-03-12T17:15:00.000-05:00

Law school sucks, but it has one thing going for it: I sleep a fair amount. I've had a regular sleeping schedule for at least two months now. So the time change on this international trip is killing me. I tried to take a nap today and had to drag myself upright after three hours of sleep. I feel like a Bobblehead. My head is lolling about on my neck without muscle control. At law school, my mind begs for freedom. Right now, my body is. I suppose it's an interesting change. I don't know that my traveling companions agree, but I'm too tired to care.

2005-03-10T23:33:00.000-05:00

Martha made the Forbes' Billionaires list today for the first time. And she dropped some serious weight. And she's repaired a shattered reputation. I think I should go to prison.

My Onion calendar today says that taking aspirin with a fifth of bourbon decreases people's awareness that they're having a heart attack. D'you think such lack of awareness translates to other contexts? So a fifth of bourbon on a plane, which only costs, what, 199 dollars or 5624351874358976056 yen, should make me really comfortable, even if the plane crashes or I have one of those deep thrombosis embolism things. I'm so scared of that I didn't even drink alcohol tonight.

I'm all packed up! Sadly, I must take a week-long leave from blogging. I may get to write a note here and there, but there shan't be regular posting. Posts will resume at the end of next week. Keep yourself entertained with the lovely blogroll blogs.

2005-03-09T17:00:00.000-05:00

Dear Makers of My Snowjacket,

Thank you for my very nice snowjacket. It is very pretty and I hope to enjoy it on my upcoming trip to Alaska. Perhaps i will use it as a raft or a pillow. You see, I cannot wear the snowjacket. It requires three hands and a bootjack to zip up. I pass through several stages of trauma when attempting to zip my jacket: anger, grief, hopelessness, and finally, the timid and gentle coaxing of an Adderall-addled Parkinson's sufferer. I have tried singing to my jacket, crying to it, and scolding it, but it is unresponsive. Know what would be funny? If I tried to zip it up wearing snow mittens. Haha. I do not have room in my luggage for the small child it takes to manipulate the tiny zippers into closing. Even if I did, I think my bag would be too heavy to bring.

The snowjacket could possibly be functional if the problem was just uneven zippers that don't lock together. If by some miracle of mangled hands I interlock the zippers, though, the zipper gets caught on the admittedly very warm, waterproof, tough fabric of the jacket. I know the fabric is tough because despite wrenching it in the zipper several times, and then ripping it apart with the strength of a panicking hot claustrophobic, it has not torn.

I do appreciate the durability of my snowjacket. I also appreciate that the zipping problems did not arise until the return date passed and until three days before my cold-weather trip. The stroke of genius it took to achieve that kind of timing is priceless, whereas the snowjacket is just pricey.

In conclusion, I am a law student. I know this is a non-sequitur as well as a completely vacant threat, but I will say it anyway to assuage my feelings of powerlessness.

With profound appreciation,
Raw Law
Law School Student just a few months away from working for v. big important law firm

2005-03-09T16:43:00.000-05:00

Traveling backpack? Check. Xanax? Check. Condoms? Check. I have all the essentials for my Euro trip ready to rock. Perhaps I should buy a Swiss Army knife and a bulletproof vest, too.

2005-03-08T12:21:00.000-05:00

Perhaps my favorite aspect of international travel is the food. United States travel brochures have heading like Restaurants, Food, and Dining. I was chagrined to learn that internationally, the food brochures are titled "Gastronomy". It sounds like my fucking stomach is going to be served on the table.

2005-03-08T10:14:00.000-05:00

Someone got to this blog by Googling "law school crock of shit." I finally feel like my blog has meaning. If just one person sympathizes with my venting and can release some frustration by finding this site, my work is worthwhile. If you can call this work. Waste, maybe.

Anyway, a hearty welcome to all ye huddled masses yearning to expound upon the theme of law school being a crock of shit. Cheers to you, my friends.

2005-03-07T15:58:00.000-05:00

I bought a neck pouch thing for my Spring Break trip. I've received a lot of shit for this purchase since I'm not going to a country where theft is prevalent. My neurosis consumes me anyway. So does my need to justify this purchase. The moment I leave my passport behind, its theft will become inevitable in my mind. I can see it happening. I wasn't born with this neurosis. I once had a job where guards roamed the halls at night, looking for breaches of security (papers not put away in locked drawers, etc.). This is environmental.

Cut me some slack, ok? It's not a fanny pack. There's a difference. Fanny packs are indefensible unless you are Sarah Jessica Parker in L.A., and even that is a stretch. It's just a money belt.

2005-03-06T19:50:00.000-05:00

Oh, this is fantastic. Since I'll soon be on a flight of significant length, I really needed to hear that traveling economy class can cause blood clots that can make me die immediately. Really lovely.

2005-03-06T15:56:00.000-05:00

I've been kicking myself for planning my Spring Break trip to a cold place. Stupid. Very stupid. The bod isn't exactly bikini-ready yet, but I'm so pale you can see through me, and my skin craves humidity. My skin actually bloated up right on my shoulder, rose up to eye-level, and tried to talk me into a trip to a place with moisture in the air. I told it to fuck off, and it promptly sprouted three zits. That's what I get.

2005-03-03T15:11:00.000-05:00

Judgmental scale bars Swedish piggies from going to work.

2005-03-02T15:34:00.000-05:00

It's time for board elections on my journal. You know, Editor-in-Chief, Editor-in-Chief's Bitch, Majority Whip, Resident Dominatrix. I am thinking of running for a position that entails spending less time with the Bluebook than the standard 3L journal member must. The Bluebook and I haven't been friends since an incident in 2002 involving flammable lubricant, paper reinforcement used as a cockring, and the journal elf. It would be awkward for me to spend days massaging the Bluebook's ego given our passionate enmity.

The reasons to remain a peon in the journal feudal system are many. One is avoidance of the go-getters who will run for board positions; these people's idea of sexual deviancy is an italicized comma after the case name. Another is the sheer number of minutes I will spending huffing up the stairs on the way to the office, on top of the excruciatingly boring hours I will spend actually in the office. And finally, since I doubt my future lies in litigation, and since a clerkship sounds like a year of journal hell in pick-up truck city to me, there is no resume payoff to a journal position.

I like the power-puff of being on a Board, but I'm thinking the Big Board or Cabinet, or at least something where I can exploit my grubby little hold on the purse strings. The Journal Board just ain't going to cut it. And I just used the word "ain't," making this all a moot point. I expect the Journal Director of Intelligence at the door any minute now to burn me at the stake.

2005-02-28T17:58:00.000-05:00

It's girl scout cookie time. I just got a giant delivery that I very stupidly placed a few weeks ago. I forgot that 7 boxes of cookies = 7 days of cookies. The Girl Scouts are clever, oh yes they are. They calculate the amount of time it takes consumers of last year's cookie batch to forget that they inhaled the cookies like a Dyson. Then they cross-check it with the amount of time consumers can still recall the cookies' sweet, soft caress on their tongue. And then they only sell the cookies in the overlapping time period.

Girl Scouts are cold, cynical people who exploit this country's propensity toward obesity. They've got a kind exterior with barracuda insides, like Sallie Mae. They're like cigarette companies with a sweet tooth. Someone get Truth to target Girl Scouts. They should shoot commercials outside Girl Scout headquarters with a mom of whale-like obesity on a stretcher, with her children crying next to the cot because their mother can't teach them how to build a fire out of laundry lint or perform a panty raid. Or whatever it is that Girl Scouts do to get a badge these days.

2005-02-27T11:19:00.000-05:00

A gargantuan thank you to Evan Schaeffer at Legal Underground for checking out my posts and enjoying them enough to link to them in his Sunday "Law School Roundup." There's that one, and this one, here, here, and also here. He's recently been on a themed kick that is very clever. The upshot is that the Sunday morning Law School Roundup is always fun, so add it to your Sunday morning routine along with the Advil, the gallon of water, and the plate of pancakes.

2005-02-26T01:47:00.000-05:00

I think I've settled on this look. You may start adjusting. Everything should be the same except I can't get the blog title to link to the homepage anymore. Sorry kids. Everything else should be smooth sailing. Let me know if you have any trouble.

2005-02-25T18:35:00.000-05:00

Mmmmm, the Friday afternoon nap. Unfortunately, this week it conflicted with the Friday make-up class. The Friday make-up class is cruel and unusual. Justice in Raw World dictates that a Friday make-up be shunned in favor of a luscious nap. Professor Pompous disagrees.

I got an acrimonious email today from Professor Pompous, decrying my empty seat for a third time this semester. He informed me that he will assume I am taking steps to drop the class until further notice. As icing, he said that my absences speak poorly of me. That is, in addition to constructing an ultimatum requiring me to lie or beg, Professor Pompous besmirched my honor.

I can't comprehend how he noticed three absences. It's a lecture class. I don't sit in a conspicuous location. He must be all Rain-Man, dissecting the number of toothpicks in chairs, in the first few minutes when he walks in the room. I thought he was scoping us out for who he was going to cold-call.

I don't know how to respond, but since I must assume now that Professor Pompous is certifiable, my options seem risky. My first impression is to claim selective enforcement. Other people skip class more than I and never hear a word about it. His response would probably be to keep an open record of attendance or something, and then I might get tarred and feathered by the class. Or, I thought I might deny my absences. This would involve impugning Professor's memory, and I think he might start moaning and shaking and yelling "Wapner" if I do that. Groveling violates the Raw Standard of Justice, so that's off the table. So I think I'm going to lie--claim a doctor's appointment or two. I hope he isn't so drunk on power that he requests a doctor's note. If so, I'm coming to you, Reader, for help. Maybe I'll say it's a reproductive endocrinologist; that might shiver his timbers enough to back off.

2005-02-23T23:18:00.000-05:00

Haloscan commenting and trackback have been added to this blog.

2005-02-23T17:24:00.000-05:00

One of the best parts about working on a law school extracurricular committee is the plethora of funding sources. Student government is a cash cow. It takes from the poor and gives to the organized poor. They granted so much money to our organization that we hold our committee meetings at a nearby pub, eating and drinking to our heart's content. It does wonders for attendance.

Outside sources of funding pop up everywhere. It's like the mole game, except the funder pops up and hands you dinero and you just don't have the time to nail all the moles for the money they yield. All you need is a vision, and preferably a large target audience. They flock to you. All the sundry bar review courses are extracurricular ATMs. Law firms are even better, especially around September (hiring time) or March (impress the 1Ls time). Maybe this is their small way of atoning for forcing us through three years of useless schooling in return for a job with them.

2005-02-23T17:11:00.000-05:00

If anyone has ideas on places to find better blog skins, please leave a comment or email at RawLaw@gmail.com.

2005-02-23T01:44:00.000-05:00

New look. I get bored easily, so I won't guarantee this one's permanency. A little serious looking for the subject matter, but better than a giant flower or a star or the other crap that parades as desirable free blog designs.

Can't figure out how to get Haloscan back for the moment, so I forewarn you that your comments may disappear.

2005-02-22T19:13:00.000-05:00

I had to tote a pre-L around the law school today. Pre-L hasn't been admitted yet, but wanted to get a taste of law school to confirm her interest. I say "confirm her interest" because she certainly wasn't there to evaluate her interest critically. There's a near-visible pair of blinders on every pre-L I speak with. Maybe a certain type of political-sciencey pre-L finds me because of my policy background, but none of them have the capacity to differentiate between a discussion about abortion policy, which is very interesting, and a dissection of a legal opinion on abortion, which makes me want to bathe in battery acid.

Pre-Ls like to tell themselves the class discussion they just witnessed on abortion law is really interesting because the teacher threw in some fun historical background and context. History and context are the bright penumbra of law school, siren songs drawing you to the rocky shoals. Dash your boat on them if you want. If I had to go back, I'd do it over again. It's certainty, for once in my life. I know where I'll be in a few years: stuck on a deserted island with a lot of money. Everyone hopes to hitch a ride off Law Island eventually. But it's a mistake for students to waltz in believing that's exactly where they want to be.

2005-02-18T17:14:00.000-05:00

It’s Fair-o-Rama at the law school. I spent yesterday at a journal information fair for 1Ls. They wanted to know what made my journal so much better than the others. I spouted a lot of BS in those few hours, so I am going to ease my conscience by giving you the true scoop. Here's what I would have said if the editor hadn't been sitting next to me with haggard and bloodshot eyes.

Leave the information fair now. Run. Go home and get drunk and sleep with someone and don’t spend any more of your short life there. Waste, waste, waste. My journal is no better than any other. One may be more prestigious, but the other requires less of your time. Make no mistake about it: journals are worthless except as resume padding. The articles you read are imbecilic. The footnoting is atrocious. Don’t expect integrity in source attribution. And learning the Bluebook isn’t a real payoff—a monkey could do it. You will forget how to Bluebook a week after you stop, anyway. The journal will be disorganized. You will half-ass your assignments and senior journal members will kiss your feet because you did anything.

There is no lasting value or purpose to a journal. It is slave labor for lazy professors who perpetuate the system so they don’t have to employ research assistants.

If you desperately need that prestige on your resume, don’t bother asking questions you think are relevant to which journal you want to be on. They aren’t, and you are going to have to apply to every journal anyway. In this process, you’re a beggar, not a chooser.

2005-02-18T16:43:00.000-05:00

Remember when I called out Blockbuster for being douchebags with this "no late fee!--but if it's late, you buy it" nonsense? Someone with actual power and a podium decided it was pretty D-baggish, too. The New Jersey Attorney General is bringing a suit for deceptive advertising. Vindication! I've had a blood feud with Blockbuster since they called Mom about my late soft-core porn in '98.

2005-02-17T16:50:00.000-05:00

At an extracurricular organizations information fair for admittees recently, I sat at a booth next to the Law Revue. You know, the outlet for overly-dramatic gunners who used to dress in all black in high school, came straight from college to law school, and want to go into entertainment litigation. I overheard an Admittee inquiring about how to get on Law Revue:

"We have auditions in a month, and we practice every two weeks after that, more as we get closer to the performance." Reciting by rote, the overarticulate and overmodulating actor-scholar failed to notice Admittee's confusion.
"Is part of it theater?" Admittee asked.
And it clicked for the budding producer: "Oh, this is Law Revue, u-e, not i-e-w. We do an annual satire on law school. . ."

Admittee flushed and quickly excused himself. My stomach cringed for poor little Admittee. I think my school may have lost a candidate there, however dense he may have been. It's potentially confusing. Law Revue should be forced to wear Hamlet outfits or actor masks or something. Better yet, they shouldn't be allowed to recruit admittees at all. It's a pointless extracurricular that makes you look unappealing and calls your time management skills into question. I bet law firms toss Law Revue resumes right in the can.

2005-02-17T16:34:00.000-05:00

CNN reports that our country may have an image problem internationally. This is only news because Disney is complaining. What a pickle for poor Disney. How to politely say, "Tourism is in the Shitter Because Everyone Hates Us!" while still saying "Rah, Rah, Republican Values, Hate Those Gays and Burn Those Terrorists!" Disney's prescription is increased federal government spending on advertising how great the U.S. is. That's right, more federal involvement in big business! Do I detect a bit of blue in Mickey's trousers?

2005-02-16T16:57:00.000-05:00

I'd like to dedicate today's post to sleep.

Sleep has unfathomable power. I think the divine promise for "strength for the day" is fulfilled with sleep alone. I am a controlled narcoleptic. I can fall asleep anywhere in just a few minutes. This is perhaps my favorite personality trait. I can almost set an internal alarm clock telling me when to wake up. I can go in and out of sleep with the ease of thread. Sometimes this sucks, like during class. It's very easy to bury my head behind the laptop screen for a few minutes for a little shut-eye. On days like today, when it is cloudy and someone close is diagnosed with cancer, sleep is divine. It provides hours of oblivion and ignorance, and when you wake up you are too busy catching up those hours to ponder less sublime moments. Sleep makes your body feel better, and it speeds recovery from trauma. It also prevents you from trying to derive lessons from bad moments, or attempting to be profound, or constructing sappy nonsense dripping with unoriginal metaphors, which I used to do. I think I will miss sleep most of all when I become an overworked lawyer. I tried to find an acceptable way to ask interviewing lawyers how many hours of sleep they averaged a night. All I received was the customary "we work hard" spiel. Too bad. It could have been the deciding factor.

2005-02-15T19:24:00.000-05:00

I generally take my laundry home to pathetically guilt my mother into doing. ["I'm tens of thousands of dollars in debt, you won't give me a dime, and you can't even do my laundry?"] Last time I went home she was out of town. My laundry is starting to emit the mellifluous odor of banana mold, so I decided to truck it over to the nearest laundromat. Laundry digested six of my very precious dollars. Six dollars. What the Snuggles?! I could have bought 3 Twix bars and 3 Diet Cokes with that. Or a whole Wendy's meal. Or a new pack of underwear so I didn't have to do it for another week. Time value of money and shit.

2005-02-15T19:01:00.000-05:00

Girls' dinner was less lovely than hoped. Girl L teed it off by informing us that she didn't like the restaurant. Girl W was less-than-subtly itching to leave halfway through the meal (so she could make The Bachelorette). Girl T discussed her budding relationship repeatedly and reminded us that the new boy wanted to take her out but she came with us instead. It became a caricature of single women at dinner. We even talked shit about the couple sitting next to us because the girl had giant boobs and the guy was wearing a pink shirt. I don't regret that part. They were asking for it.

To cap it all, I had a three hour reaction to my fancy-schmancy dinner. Ever fought stomach cramps while drunk? It's like incubating Alien babies, some in your stomach and some in your inner ears. It's unpleasant. Next V-Day I'm going abroad. I hope they don't celebrate Valentine's in Europe.

2005-02-14T18:53:00.000-05:00

My body is reacting to Valentines Day. My entire body aches. Even my uterus hurts. Flu, schmu--this is a physical breakdown at the disgusting sweetness surrounding me. I don't think this holiday has ever been so irritating:
1. Everyone is wearing pink. Ew. Pink doesn't look good on a lot of women--it brings out the ruddiness of their face. We're law students, ergo we are alcoholics, ergo the pink/red shirt is not helping.
2. Everyone's being nice and sappy. My roommate's boyfriend is asking what her favorite kind of chocolate is. I told him black. The store he went to didn't even think that was funny; they just gave him dark.
3. Everyone is asking what my plans for the day are. But I'm not telling. This isn't fucking New Year's. Don't just presume that I have plans. You can't make me have plans.
4. Will the Vagina Monologues never die? Is it destined to be revived every mid-February, like Groundhog Day on estrogen? I think so.
5. Don't change your prix fixe dinner menu to include a dessert cake in the shape of a heart. I came here because I like your food as it was last time. You just screwed up the sweetest part of my V-Day.
6. Candy conversation hearts are disgusting. Eating a whole bag of them is vomitous.

2005-02-11T14:10:00.000-05:00

Plenty of giant tools exist over at Buffs Law, but I ran into a solid Tool today. He and I had a class together last year. About six months ago, he struck up a conversation while we both waited in the lobby of a law firm for our callback interviews. I like having a conversation while I'm waiting so I can smooth over the nerves and present the socially acceptable happy chatty RawLaw. I suspect most people consider a pre-interview chat with another candidate akin to public flogging, so I try not to engage a fellow interviewee unless he is really hot or unless the alternative is vomiting from butterflies. It is clear that this Tool has no such empathy with other peoples' wishes.

"How go the interviews?" said Tool.
"Fine."

Notice my one-word response and lack of follow-up question. These characteristics indicate that I don't want to talk to you--unless I am simultaneously shoving a fistful of french fries in my mouth, in which case there is no conclusive signal, or unless I am staring at your eyes and licking my lips, in which case I would like to talk dirty.

Surprise! Tool didn't get the hint. He continued, "I'm doing well. Of course, not as well as I should be, but that's because I'm not on law review."
"Great." [Repeat above analysis.]
"One of my interviewers asked me why I wasn't on law review given my grades. He said he has my grades at our school and he was on law review."
"I guess the curve is different now."
"I told him it was because gender and minority didn't count for journals when he was at law school."

I suspect a different reason.

Social ineptitude, rudeness, and bias aside, Tool came to class today wearing a bright yellow T-shirt that said NERD across it in giant letters, like police tape. There is no help for a child like this. I give up.

2005-02-10T17:56:00.000-05:00

All the 1Ls are doing the firm reception thing. For the uninitiated, the deal is this: during spring semester all the law firms worth a salt court 1Ls. They put on open receptions at nice restaurants and bars. The less prestigious firms rent out the law school facilities and serve lunch. Law students don't pass up free lunch, and they certainly don't pass up an open bar, so the events are often well-attended. The lunch ones are boring because they are dry, but the ease of location draws students who otherwise would not give the smaller firms a look. The open bar receptions are fabulous. Top-shelf liquor and top-quality food for free. You can attend the ones at the most popular restaurants for four hours without speaking a word to someone at the firm because there are so many students. I'm feeling a little wistful now.

It's a hopeful spectacle. The 1Ls pass by while I sit in front of the law school having a cig roundabout 6:00. They wear the nice suits they begged their parents for at the semester's start; they hoped to use it for an elusive firm interview that hasn't panned out, yet. They're heading to a firm that won't touch them because they got a B, or a firm they won't touch because it isn't in the Vault top 50, and it doesn't matter. There are no consequences to exploiting the reception process. You don't have to select receptions by conducting a variable analysis of their hiring practices. You don't have to research the firm before you drink on their dime. The firm lawyers are kissing your ass and selling the firm life as if their livelihood depended on it, which of course it does. They're sucking you in. You knew it was inevitable, and their wine is luscious and their suits are fine and damnit you want to be a firm lawyer.

2005-02-09T18:02:00.000-05:00

Valentine's is in five days and my party plans were just obliterated into a million little pieces--messily broken up, like my romantic relationships. The party got canceled because not enough people wanted to go. I know what this means. I have passed the critical mass between singles and couples my age. The couples are planning to canoodle, dine, and "just be together." They've overtaken the singles, who are now left only with each other. And we're just not that numerous anymore! If we were in a Cold War against each other, singles would have to brandish nuclear weapons to counter the couples' titanic advantage in tanks and men. Our Manpower is woefully underwhelming. We're laden with estrogen and we know how to use it! We wanted a party of singles, both sexes, gunning to send a giant Fuck You to V-Day. But we're subtly crossing the line to "can someone please send over a male hooker or a blow-up doll or something because not one woman at this party is going to get laid tonight unless we drug the gay BFFs." We've become as impotent as the League of Nations.

My back-up plan is getting silly drunk at my standby overpriced-drinks-and-ogle-worthy-waiters restaurant. I could just stay home and do work, but that is lame. I refuse to be both ineffectual and lame. I'm not too devastated about getting blotto over dinner with the girls. We'll have better alcohol, less awkwardness, and a whole lot less pressure. We won't have booty, but we'll definitely have fun.

2005-02-08T23:52:00.001-05:00

Free iPod?!

So, a friend of a friend really did get a free iPod doing this. So I'm going to ask you all nicely if you would go through this BS for a free iPod. It was worth it for me. Click my referral link and I will love you forever. 5 people have to go through the process (pay $1, sign up for an offer, cancel it in a week) for me to get my free iPod: http://www.freeiPods.com/?r=14657689.

Lest you think I'm a bit soft in the head, I will tell you that I was extremely skeptical, but my friend is a Computer Guru and is not foolish about these matters. Not to mention that the economics of it kinda make sense.

I worked in consumer protection once, so if this doesn't actually work I will place a lil phone call. I'll let you know what happens.

UPDATE: I Googled it because someone called me a jackass. Google it if you don't believe me.

2005-02-07T14:42:00.000-05:00

I've admitted that I often choose professors based on what's between their legs (or not). Let me dig my hole deeper by admitting I avoid old professors like the crabs.

Ancient professors have usually checked out of the legal environment for some time. They generally half-ass their way through introductory lectures because the law school begs them to. They haven't updated the syllabus in a generation, so don't bother using their page numbers to find the cases. They like to talk about their opinions. They haven't followed the Supreme Court since the Four Horsemen left. They get away with this because they are established names that appear in the historic introduction of every relevant textbook. Some students enjoy their disorganized rants. I do too, for an afternoon every couple of weeks. That's how often class attendance is sufficient to score a B.

Side note: Old professors are often male, because women were riding side saddle and wearing corsets when these upstanding youths went to law school. The logical conclusion is that old male professors are doubly toxic.

2005-02-04T14:11:00.000-05:00

Oversexualizing the environnment...inappropriate...blah blah blah. I am in love with two of my professors.

I generally choose female professors' courses. It's a little bit about my own affirmative action and a little bit about identifying with a professor. There's the added bonus that I tend not to imagine getting drunk and stumbling home with them. I don't do this to all male professors, just the good ones. Yes, I probably have a father complex. A good professor is magnetic. This isn't about looks. This is about charisma, and charm, and carnal sex appeal. These two professors are alive in the classroom. They care about teaching well, exhibit a tinge of idealism, are unafraid to push students, and they still retain a gentle demeanor. Neither is married, according to their vacant ring ringers. Neither appears to be gay, though I could be wrong. I am starved of good leadership (and sex) enough to make these the characteristics of Adonis. I want to write my term paper, um, under both of these professors.

I think if Professor returned my adoring gazes I would run scared. This is my fantasy world. I like it here. I think I'll stay awhile.

2005-02-03T01:49:00.000-05:00

Breaking news: Stroke of GENIUS strikes NBC. Martha Stewart has just been announced as Trump's successor. Sorry folks, my Thursday nights will continue to be booked watching the Apprentice--I want to see what happens when sensationalism, sexism and prison smarts collide.

2005-02-02T17:04:00.000-05:00

Is it bad that my first law firm assignment, turning in my information packet, is late? How far does one really have to go to not receive a job offer? Is this, coupled with a particularly shitty semester last fall, enough?

These are the questions I mull over as I lay in bed at 4:00 in the afternoon. I'm grouchy and moody. It's the result of a horrible confluence of circumstances: insufficient sleep, mid-winter depression, the Airborne's Maginot Line of defense crumbling before the Gestapo of law school viruses. So I'm alternating between rageful anger and pure exhaustion. I'm coming off the exhaustion phase, during which I took a two hour nap. Before that, I got so mad at a professor for delaying our break an extra twenty minutes that I packed up my bag and left. Fucker. I showed him. I heard he continued teaching for an extra five minutes after class was supposed to end. I feel confident that by escaping early I averted a suspension and probably criminal charges. It's cruel to continue class past its natural death. Are professors really deluded enough to believe we appreciate the sweet nothings of incomprehensible bullshit that spew from their mouths? More, please! I might just die if you don't fully explicate the intricacies of the Efficient Fucking Market Hypothesis along with your personal evaluation of its merits!

I like to believe my intense hatred of class time will earn me the reputation of "problem solver" at a firm. A partner may take thirty minutes ($157) to explain in detail how to fill out a document, but I will invent a quicker way. I will do this because when my Outlook chings a reminder that the document is due in half an hour, I will have nothing done. I will have forgotten what little I retained from the partner's conversation. Then I will invent a solution. A month later, I will show the partner my solution and he will label me Genius. I will proceed directly to my rightful position as hiring partner and will hire students like me after their first year of law school and will not force them to attend school or turn in their transcripts.

I'm going back to bed now.

2005-02-02T01:22:00.000-05:00

According the the Times, Dean has the position of DNC chair all but locked up. I have no idea if this is a good thing or a bad thing. I am going to just eat another cinnamon roll now as I stare at this picture of what I might look like if I weighed .07 ounces. Damn.

2005-02-02T00:15:00.000-05:00

Me! Ish.

2005-02-01T22:58:00.000-05:00

If I have any idea what I'm doing, the doll picture of me will appear on this site soon enough. I was too indecisive to decide how I usually dress, so I just combined stuff that I like. Now you can have an image of what I would sort of look like if I were two-dimensional in your head all the time. Thanks to Frolics and Detours and Energy Spatula for the doll site.

2005-01-31T16:40:00.000-05:00

Hillary Clinton fainted during a speech. She said it's the flu. I say she has been poisoned, a la Yuschenko. Republicans? Terrorists? Bill? Someone with investigative skills--someone who incidentally also supports baseless suspicion and gossip-mongering--should find out.

2005-01-31T16:25:00.000-05:00

I got my information packet from Gold Medal Firm for the summer, sans confirmation of the salary. I'm hoping for a raise on the standard summer amount. After all, the associates got a giant bonus last year. Instead of learning how many $$$$$ I'll pulling in this summer, the information packet was chock full of crap I need to do: NALP directory consent, RSVPs, practice area selection, passport pictures (in full suit armor and dolled-up makeup). It is impossible for me to look good in a passport photo. I look pale, wide-eyed and drugged up, like an albino tarsier business district hooker or something.

I don't need another list of errands to run. I haven't done my laundry for four weeks and my shower is starting to mold. What I need is confirmation that I am on a road paved with gold. I'm not asking for much--just more.

At least I learned that I will have four weeks off during the summer. I can begin planning how to blow the entirety of my summer salary. I'm thinking Monte Carlo. Or the Bahamas, if I'm feeling Euro- or plane-phobic.

2005-01-30T18:51:00.000-05:00

Sadly, the Haloscan comment system I am changing to hides the old comments. Your comments brought me joy. A moment of silence for the loss of Comments Past. . .K. On to the future.

2005-01-30T03:02:00.000-05:00

Sometimes you come across a blog that puts you to shame. Meet Death in the Afternoon, a blogger who is 8 billion times smarter than me. I might even concede a fuller appreciation of Hemingway to Death, however much it pains me. Anyway, it's good stuff and you should check it out for a distinct flavor from Raw. Thanks to Crime and Federalism, who knows his blogs, for the hookup.

2005-01-29T18:21:00.000-05:00

But Officer! The beers in the backseat are an emergency kit in case of avalanche!

2005-01-26T01:32:00.000-05:00

The Holy Grail has announced itself. You thought masturbation was an easy way to orgasm? In a New York Times op-ed, Dr. Richard Friedman, a psychopharmacologist, "decided to prescribe Wellbutrin, a different class of antidepressant that has shown some ability to counteract sexual dysfunction. . . Two weeks later, [the patient] called from her cellphone to say that the antidote was working. While shopping, she said, she spontaneously had an orgasm that had lasted on and off for nearly two hours."

Somebody deliver a Pulitzer to the Times, stat. They should receive every Pulitzer ever created. Tear them from the hands of all those unworthy recipients and stuff the NY Times office with them. That is what I call dynamite reporting.

2005-01-25T01:29:00.000-05:00

Maybe I am naive about men. Anything is possible. But I just can't comprehend something here. I was at a party tonight (yes, Monday, lay off me I'm starving for alcohol). A good friend, of the stick-equipped variety, approached me and proceeded to compliment my "tits and ass" as "fuckable." I'm sure he meant it as kindly as possible. However, no comprendo. This is not ok with me. It makes me supremely uncomfortable to know that men I am purely friendly with are checking me out lasciviously all the time. I have known this guy for two years now. If he wanted to hit on me, he would have done it already. This was not about getting to bed with me. This guy actually thought he was boosting my utils by complimenting me in this manner. Is this abnormal? I recall an instance last May: several of my friends from home went swimming in a lake. All was well and good until one of the guys told my high school bff her breasts looked fantastic floating in the water. She giggled. I scraped myself off the floor. They're not dating. They hang out all the time as friends. It seems wrong to allow someone to talk to you like that. It sexualizes the entire environment. It's uncomfortable. This is making me fucking neurotic. Are my male friends/ coworkers/ costudents eyeing me and sizing me up every time I see them? If so, how am I supposed to sanely operate in that kind of environment? Don't just stop being Mr. Inappropriate Comment. Control what you are measuring when we have a purely platonic relationship. STOP JUDGING MY BODY.

UPDATE: I should note that I am not fending the Men off with a stick. This post is certainly not a complaint that I'm overwhelmed with men. For reasons unbeknownst to me, perhaps because I'm acerbic, perhaps because I've got chub, perhaps because I'm severely fucked up about men, the romantic prospects don't come along that often. This wasn't quite what I was dreaming of.

2005-01-21T01:48:00.000-05:00

SpongeBob is looking a little too poofy for Dr. James Dobson and his conservative Christian group, Focus on the Family. The New York Times reports that Dobson accused SpongeBob of joining forces in a "pro-homosexual video" because the video asked for a tolerance pledge from thousands of elementary schools. God hates tolerance!

But GASP--it appears that Dobson had his facts wrong. SpongeBob is in a video teaching children about multiculturalism, with no hint of sexual identity issues. The lawyer of the video-producing company suggested that the critics "need medication." But Focus on the Family stands by its accusation! "We see the video as an insidious means by which the organization is manipulating and potentially brainwashing kids," an assistant to Dobson at Focus on the Family said. "It is a classic bait and switch." Yes. Classic.

2005-01-20T01:37:00.000-05:00

Firm Gossip Alert! Two unsubstantiated and possibly false items today:

1. A certain firm in the top twenty of the granddaddy of all law firm cities, New York, is begging its summers to do half their stint in the mistress of all law firm cities, Los Angeles. Seems that said Firm made a major hiring miscalculation and is up to its ears in summer associates. Getting a free trip to L.A. doesn't seem too bad, but wouldn't it suck if the Firm hired a lesser percentage of summers? It's going to be a bloodbath for work and billable hours, and word is that their summer assignment system is going to exacerbate it like scratching the scabies. Glad I didn't choose that firm! It will also suck for the crop of 1Ls who aren't going to get hired next year at Firm because of this year's glut. Cheers!

2. A top thirty national law firm, no fan of mein I assure you, is (unsubstantiated-ly) rumored to be in dire financial straits. The lack of work is spreading like cancer.

If you have firm gossip, I urge you to email me at Rawlaw@gmail.com so I can spread it with multiple disclaimers.

2005-01-19T17:10:00.000-05:00

Further proof that half this country lives with their head in the sand:
Poll: Nation split on Bush as uniter or divider.

2005-01-19T15:00:00.000-05:00

Is there any more ominous harbinger of the demise of American supremacy than the massive Airbus A380? The European-made jet, the biggest in the world, will have private double beds, gyms, beauty parlors, and an in-flight casino. “’Since you have gaming and you have private double beds maybe there are two ways of getting lucky on a Virgin plane,’ entrepreneur Branson told reporters in France.”

Europe already surpassed us in currency value and respect for human rights. Now it has beaten us on our own turf--the size of our national phallic symbols. The United States is a country built on phallic symbols: big guns, hot dogs, baseball bats (and balls). They're constitutive of our aggressive, decisive, frontier identity. The Europeans had the Concorde. It's svelte and it's quick. We don't do sleek. We do sport utility vehicle. We were happy to waddle along with our enormous Boeing 767 schlongs, but the Europeans are playing hardball now. We’ve been soundly slapped by the gifted Airbus.

2005-01-18T23:42:00.000-05:00

Admittedly, I am feeling very pissy about quite a few things right now. But the kicker is Anonymous Lawyer. I mean this in the most meaningless, superficial and non-offensive bitchfest way, but Jeremy Blachman is a fuckwad. I mean, he took a slice of heaven in my law school hellfest and shat on it. It was beautiful and now it is a giant piece of crap. It sugar-coated the misery of law, but now it is bullshit with a spoonful of shit. All to publicize his name for a book deal. Book deal = selling soul to devil, Jeremy Blachman. And I probably would have done the exact same thing, but damnit it sucks for me.

UPDATE: Frolics and Detours, one of my favorite law student blogs, agrees in eloquent fashion.