Wednesday, May 31, 2006

A Little Perspective

During the first few weeks and months of law school, 1Ls are blissfully unaware of the realities of the legal world. All that matters at that point is getting to class and being prepared. There are no worries about improving grades or maintaining grades, because there are no grades to improve upon or maintain. The ugliness that some students can exhibit hasn’t shown itself fully. Jobs are not a concern, because many law schools prohibit full time students from working, and legal employers are not allowed to talk to 1Ls until November of their first year. Except for a select few who have seen through the looking glass, many believe that whatever job they want will be theirs for the taking, and that employers will fight over who gets to hand them $2000 per week in the coming summer.

In light of this naivety, it is no surprise that when the Career Services office hauled my class into school on a Saturday in early November of our first year, attendance was robust. Sure, we were giving up half of a Saturday, but this was the vaunted Career Services office. They were all knowing, all powerful. With just a simple phone call, they could have potential employers in a bidding war over your services. Or so the story went. By sitting through this meeting, we would know just how much we could expect to be earning come May, and just how easy it would be to get those jobs.

Naturally, when so little is known about an entity, stories about it are invented to make up for the lack of real information. How were we supposed to know that Career Services is typically worthless? That we could get better advice from the homeless guy who hangs out around campus? That the only people it can actually help find a job are those people who don’t need help finding jobs in the first place? That spending your Saturday morning counting the number of tiles in your kitchen would be infinitely more productive?

After listening to the Dean of the school and the Dean of Career Services each deliver the exact same fifteen minute long speech, our guest speakers arrived. They included someone from the Prosecutor’s office, a couple of attorneys from small and mid-sized firms around town, and the hiring partner from a large and prestigious firm in a nearby city. The big firm hiring partner stuck out like a black guy in your typical fraternity. He wore a $2000 suit, $500 shoes, a $200 tie, and a $100 haircut, while the other collectively looked like the bargain rack at Sears. As the other people took turns speaking, he looked bored, aggravated, annoyed, and eventually, homicidal. I could tell he didn’t belong, and my mind raced as to why he was there. Finally, it was his turn to speak. Most of the students in the room perked up. After all, the big firms, that’s where the money is. This guy is sure to give some insights, right?

I don’t remember exactly what he said, but it was brief, harsh, and completely deflated the hopes and dreams of many in that room. His message boiled down to this: “We don’t hire 1Ls, and even if we did, we wouldn’t hire any of you.”

Many people were shocked and appalled by his candor, while I was refreshed. For the first time, I could see law school for what it was. Of all people, a big firm hiring partner gave me a better perspective on life.

Tuesday, May 30, 2006

Daydream Believer

I don’t talk on Instant Messenger with readers as much as Mike does. Probably because I’m a jerk. Here’s an example of a conversation I had with a female reader.

Russ: Do you know what kind of law you want to practice?

SportySpice: I’ll find something around here to pay the bills until I can get my dream job, a sports agent.

Russ: Well, the WNBA is experiencing a rise in popularity.

SportySpice: WNBA? No way. I want to represent Major League Baseball players.

Russ: Wow. Have you worked for an agency yet?

SportySpice: No. My uncle is in the league and he’s been asking around for me. Nothing's panned out for me yet, though.

Russ: Are there any female sports agents in the major leagues.

SportySpice: No, I checked. I’ll be the first.

Russ: So, you’re a graduating 3L in the middle of your class, at an average law school, with dubious connections who wants to break into an industry virtually every male attorney would trade clerkships or six-figure salaries for..

SportySpice: Exactly. I know the odds seem slim but I can do it.

Russ: Interesting. Hey do you remember how in elementary school they told us that any of us could be president?

SportySpice: Yeah.

Russ: Do you think that statement is true?

SportySpice: Obviously not.

Russ: Do you think it’s actually cruel to get kid’s hopes up if there is, in fact, no hope of them being president.

SportySpice: Totally.

Russ: Well, I’m not going to insult you like your teacher did. Sporty, you will never be Jackie Robinson of female sports agents. Move on with your life and stay realistic.

SportySpice: Go to hell.

Friday, May 26, 2006

Epiphany

Watching television the other night, I had an epiphany. I won’t be able to use this particular advice myself, but for hundreds of readers, this could be the difference between getting that dream job when OCI rolls around and blindly writing letters to firms in hopes that you can line up any legal job before you graduate.

Are you ready? Okay, do you have a real passion for the law but only modest talents? If so, here is what you do: First, dye your hair gray so that you look like one of your parent’s friends; next, develop some facial tics and an “aw shucks” manner of speaking; then, throw away all self-consciousness and act like an idiot; after that, say “wooooo” a lot; and finally, develop a catch phrase that you spout anytime you can’t think of anything else to say. Follow these steps, and hiring partners will be throwing much more qualified people out of the way to make you an offer.

Taylor Hicks as the American Idol? This show has officially hit rock bottom, something which I didn’t think could happen after the Clay Aiken debacle. If Taylor Hicks is worthy of being American Idol, I am worthy of being the Dean of a prestigious law school. The American Idol should be someone who is marketable to a large portion of the population. We learned this the hard way with Ruben Studdard. Taylor Hicks falls under the same category. Are little girls going to want to put posters of him on their walls? Of course not. Do we really think he can produce viable pop songs that will get heavy rotation on a top-40 radio station, especially in the long run? I’ll bet against it. The American Idol should be young, fresh, and hip, not a baby boomer that looks like an odd mix between Mark Cuban and Jay Leno. Male idols should inspire men to want to be him, and women to want to be with him. No guy I know would want to look like Bill Clinton circa 1991, and only the most desperate of women have expressed a fondness for him. On the other hand, Taylor is the perfect guy for girls to take home to dad, because they have been golfing since the mid-eighties.

But America has spoken, and I think we can apply what we learned here to interviewing. Your skills and qualifications are secondary to your appeal to the lowest common denominator. Just hope that the person you interview with is not a Simon, with his common sense and acid tongue, unafraid to point out your many, many flaws. No, you better hope it’s a Paula, filled with compliments waiting to be dispensed and a heart waiting to be melted, and a glass full of rum on the table in front of her.

Wednesday, May 24, 2006

Are You Studying For The Bar With Me?

I'm taking the afternoon class at Chicago Kent. I'd like some contacts who are in the same session so I can ask questions like, "Is there reading assigned for tomorrow?" Shoot me an email at barelylegalblog@gmail.com.

On that note, "Is there reading assigned for tomorrow?"

Ten Commandments for Easy Livin', Part 2

VI. Thou shall avoideth classes taught by tenured professors. In general, tenured professors are more likely to give low grades than non-tenured professors. Professors without tenure are like an insecure girl in high school; they desperately want to be liked and won’t do anything to rock the boat (like giving out grades lower than a C). Classes taught by an adjunct professor are also a good option. Adjuncts are usually more laid back and straightforward. However, always keep in mind the first commandment, about choosing your professors with care. Every now and then, you’ll run across a non-tenured prof who is trying to establish himself as a hardass, or an adjunct who treats his two-hour per week class like a Paper Chase fantasy camp. But in general, those professors who are not full time or tenured are your best bets for a smooth ride through the class.

VII. Thou shall avoideth classes subject to the grading curve. While being part of a large class has some advantages, such as more anonymity and slacking with greater ease, it does have the disadvantage of being curved, which means, of course, that a healthy portion of C’s will be handed out. However, classes which are not subject to the grading curve are more likely to produce a higher number of good grades since the professor isn’t bound to deem a percentage of the students below average. However, again remember the first commandment and know what the prof is like before you decide to take the class. The last thing you want is to sign up for a class on some obscure topic, along with eight other people, only to have the prof grade hard and subject you to being called on daily. But usually, when combined with adjuncts or non-tenured professors, as discussed above, you have the perfect storm for an easy A.

VIII. Thou shall striketh an appropriate balance between papers and finals. After a year in law school, you should have a fairly good grasp on your strengths and weaknesses as a student. Maybe you have an unusual gift for completing multiple choice exams, or perhaps you have a knack for writing essays. Or you may possibly hate exams but don’t really mind writing papers. The beauty of choosing your own schedule is that you can dictate how many classes for which you’ll write papers or take exams. All the same warnings apply: You probably don’t want to take Professor Asshole just because he offers a multiple choice exam, nor do you want to sign up for a paper class without knowing the parameters of the paper. Sure, you may not like taking exams, but wouldn’t taking a three hour exam be easier than writing a 60 page, law review quality paper on product liability?

IX. Thou shall investeth in a DVR. Yes, this one isn’t really school related, but I don’t believe any law student can fully enjoy their experience without owning a DVR. Ask anyone who has one; they will tell you that they don’t know how they ever got by without it. If done correctly, you should have at least 50% more free time during your final two years than you did as a 1L. If you don’t fill this free time with something productive, you may be tempted to do something silly, like reread your assignments. Answer this question: It’s 3pm on a Tuesday, and you are done for the day. Which would you rather do, make case briefs for Federal Tax, or watch the marathon of “My Super Sweet Sixteen” that you recorded over the weekend?

X. Thou shall findeth those people whom thy liketh, and treateth the rest of the people like ghosts. The biggest complaint that people have about law school is not academic but personal. Specifically, many ILs get a bitter taste in their mouths because of their fellow classmates. How can you stand two more years? There is a simple solution to this problem: stop associating with the people you don’t care for. Figure out who you like and hang out with them. Sit next to them in class, eat lunch with them, and call them on the weekends. As for the people you don’t like, pretend they aren’t there. Don’t talk to them, don’t talk about them, and don’t even acknowledge their existence. It’s really quite easy. Once you stop sweating someone’s presence, they stop bothering you. You have your friends, and you can always expand your group. But for the people who bother you so much, just treat them like ghosts in your own law school and the place won’t seem quite so bad.

Monday, May 22, 2006

Ten Commandments for Easy Livin', Part 1

We often get suggestions for posts, and they almost always fall into one of three categories. First, something we have already done. For example, “You guys should do a people you meet on the guy who still acts like he’s in his frat”; Second, something really clichéd and obvious. For example, “You guys should do a post on how much law school is like high school”; or third, something that is just plain dumb. For example, “You guys should do a post ranking which firms send the hottest associates to conduct OCIs.” But recently a reader suggested an actual good idea for a post: “I just finished my first year. What advice do you have to help me make my second and third years and painless as possible?” So without further ado, here is part one of our Ten Commandments for Easy Livin’

I. Thou shall chooseth thy professors with care. The best professor can make the most boring topic seem somewhat interesting, and a bad professor can make even the biggest sounding blow-off classes a nightmare. When picking courses, look for who is teaching a class before you look at what the class is. Information about the reputations of professors should be common knowledge at your school, and if you don’t know, ask someone. People think there are upper-level courses that you have to take for the bar. The only class you really have to take is Evidence. For anything else, let Bar-Bri teach it to you. You are going to be better off taking something challenging, like Bankruptcy, with a cool prof who is so burned out that he doesn’t care anymore, than taking a cake class, like Sports and Entertainment Law with some gung-ho asshole who doesn’t understand that people are only sitting in his classroom because the think it will be easy.

II. Thou shall not maketh thy own outlines. My philosophy on outlines is the same as my philosophy on clothes; Sure, while I probably could make my own if I wanted, I’d just as soon let someone else do it. Other people make better ones than I can, so why waste my time. The key is not to sound like a mooch, unless you are mooching off of other moochers. Also, many schools have an outline bank from past years floating around. Try and get your hands on that. Professors rarely deviate their courses from one year to the next, so if you can match both the class and the prof, you are three-quarters of the way done. Also, commercial outlines will suffice when a student-made one cannot be located.

III. Thou shall not taketh classes on Friday. This one is a no-brainer. Schools should only hold Friday classes for 1Ls, and give their upper level students a permanent three day weekend. Alas, this is not the case, but with careful planning, you can eliminate Fridays from your schedule. If you cannot avoid Friday classes, there is no harm in saving your absences for that day. Also, if possible, avoiding Monday classes is also beneficial.

IV. Thou shall not taketh classes that begin before 11am.
In reality, this one is hard to pull off, but if you can, you will not regret it. Think about it; this is probably your last chance to sleep in on a regular basis for 40 or so years, and by then you won’t be able to sleep past 5:45. When looking at a class that starts early, you have to weigh the cost of taking it (sleep) against the benefit you receive from taking the class (enlightenment on topics such as Commercial Paper or Remedies). Let me give you a hint: Sleep should win. If you can’t do this every day, try to do it on Monday. Nothing takes the sting out of the Monday blues by sleeping late and having your first class start at three.

V. Thou shall choosesth as many pass/fail classes as possible. Pass/fail classes are the best kind of classes. In general, there probably won’t be an exam or a paper, and if there is, it will be easy, and they don’t affect your GPA. Classes that are designed to be pass/fail are often more hands on and interesting, like negotiation classes or trial practice classes. However, don’t forget the First Commandment, because there may be some professors of pass/fail classes out there who don’t understand that no one ever fails. The only effort required to pass is usually your presence. That being said, make sure you put enough effort in to earn that “P", or you'll be that guy who managed to fail a pass/fail class.

Part 2 coming later this week.

Thursday, May 18, 2006

Don Juan

While I've implied (or said outright) several times that women in law school are often single and looking, I'm well aware that their single male counterparts give those women good reason to stay single.

Law students are nerds. At least female nerds are redeemable. Every teen movie has shown us that a girl nerd can take her glasses off, let her hair fall to her shoulders and she will metamorphize into a quiet beauty. Guy nerds, however, are just a nerds with worse vision without their glasses.

Anyways, I recalled an encounter with one of these single male law students during my 1L orientation. We were all at a bar, and he was telling me how his "single days were over" and how he was "ready to settle down now that he was in graduate school."

I sat there and nodded but I wanted to give him two pieces of advice based on my very brief observations after knowing him all of 15 minutes.

# 1 If you want to get a girlfriend, don't wear a polo shirt and jean shorts to the bar.

# 2 Failing that, untuck your polo from your jean shorts when at the bar.

Wednesday, May 17, 2006

Not too long ago...

...I was discussing a particular baseball player, and his relative attributes and skills, with a friend. He asserted, with absolutely no evidence or reason, that said player was the best in the league. I tried to get him to back this bold statement up, and he couldn't, other than saying "I don't know why, but I just know. It's just a feeling." His enthusiasm was unquestioned but his methodology was deeply flawed, which reminded me of this story...

Way back when I was just a lowly second-semester 1L, still entertaining thoughts of becoming an attorney and practicing law and such, I decided to respond to a job posting that was looking for a 1L for the summer. The posting said that a writing sample was required, and I deemed one of the papers that I had written for legal writing (a motion to do something or to block something, I don't quite recall) worthy of becoming my writing sample. I received a 'B+' grade on this motion, so I decided to take it to my legal writing instructor for some guidance as to how I could improve upon it.

I scheduled a meeting with him and arrived five minutes early, armed with two copies of my motion so we could go over it together, and I could make notes on my copy. Naturally, he wasn't in his office. I took a seat and waited. Twenty minutes later, after thumbing through an old copy of the law review and some legal magazine that had been on his desk, I was ready to leave. Just then, he burst into the office, and looked at me with the sort of suspicious eyes that a homeowner would use on some unruly teenagers standing outside of his house with a carton of eggs. "Can I help you?", he said in an accusing tone.

"Yeah, we had a meeting scheduled," I said. Then I realized he had no idea who I was, despite the fact that I was currently in his class, which had only about 15 students in it. "My name is Mike [Last Name], I'm in legal writing with you right now. I wanted to go over my motion with you so I can use it as a writing sample. We had a meeting scheduled to start 20 minutes ago..."

"Oh yeah," he said, clearly having forgotten ever scheduling a meeting with me, despite the fact I had done it via email two days earlier. "I'd be happy to help." I handed him my motion and said, "You gave me a B+, which is fine, I just want to know what I can do to improve it a little." He took about five minutes to read through the 15-page paper, handed it back to me and said, "I don't know, it looks pretty good to me."

"Well then," I said, "Why did I only get a B+?"

He paused, and sighed, and said, "Well, when I grade a paper, I look for some certain content, which is part of the grade, but for the most part, the grade is based on an overall 'feel', if that makes sense." I said that it didn't, so he continued. "Your motion was good, really good actually, but it just didn't feel like an A paper. And I'm not really sure what you could have done to make it an A paper, unless you completely started over."

This is where the me of two years ago differs from the me of today. If this happened today, I'd have told this professor exactly what I thought of his ridiculous grading system, explained how holisitc grading is a farce, a lazy method of assigning grades which are extremely important to some people, how he is cheating his students, and so on. But the me of two years ago bit his tongue, and let all those thoughts stay in my head.

I stood up to leave, and thanked him for his time. Walking away from his office, I decided that when course evaluations were passed out, I'd rate this professor as "poor", because, for the most part, he just felt like a bad professor.

Monday, May 15, 2006

Family Conversation

(Outside Grandma's House)

Mom: Don't tell Grandma you aren't taking the bar, at least not yet.

Me: Sure thing.

(At dinner)

Grandma: So Michael, what kind of degree did you receive?

Me: It's a JD, Grandma.

Great Aunt: What does that stand for?

Me: Juris Doctorate, I believe.

Grandma: So you're a doctor now?

Me: No...Well, techincally, I suppose, but no lawyer ever could get away with calling himself "doctor".

Grandma: Well why not?

Me: I guess it would devalue the whole meaning of "doctor". Most anyone who has gone to law school will tell you that it's kind of a joke.

Grandma: Oh, it can't be a joke.

Me: Well, maybe not a joke, but certainly not worthy of being called a doctor afterwards.

Great Aunt: What is an esquire?

Me: I think it's an actual lawyer.

Grandma: Like you!

Me: Well, not exactly. I would have to pass the bar first.

Grandma: When do you take the bar?

Me: Uh...well...

Mom: Who wants cake!?

Wednesday, May 10, 2006

Update

I have recieved confirmation that a Dean of Admissions at an American law school throws all applications who's essays have the phrase, "I like to argue" in the "Do Not Admit" pile.

This person is a true American hero. They have saved their charges from gunners and society from more hysterionic blather. God bless them.

Being in the Middle

Mike and Russ,

I need to vent and I don’t want to bitch to my friends, so I figured I’d sound off on a couple of blog guys I’ve never met. So here’s the deal: I just finished the 2nd semester of my 2L year. For my first three semesters, I always ended up right in the middle of the curve, never more than an increment above or below. My class rank was right in the middle. Being in the middle didn’t exactly afford me many job opportunities or journal positions or anything, so this semester, I decided to make a change. No more internet in class, no more IMing while I was supposed to be studying, no more drinking on weeknights, I paid attention in class, read every assignment, and even made my own outlines. My grades just got posted for a few classes, and guess what? Right in the fucking middle again, right at the curve. All of the changes and efforts that I made this semester pretty much got me right back to where I started. Not only am I pissed that I didn’t do as well as I had hoped, but I gave up all the things that make law school fun, and made myself miserable in the process. I guess what I want to know is, am I just meant to be in the middle? Is this as good as it gets?

Thanks for letting me vent,

(Name withheld)



To answer your question with the brutal honesty that our readers have come to expect, yes, you are probably just meant to be in the middle, and this is probably as good as it gets. By the 4th semester of law school, your abilities, which are reflected in your grades and rank, have been established. Your performance as a first semester 1L is probably not a strong indicator of your abilities; your performance between both 1L semesters is a better indicator; but your cumulative performance after three semesters of law school is going to pretty much establish how well you can be expected to perform.

The most frustrating part about the middle is that it's like a mediocre relationship. You'll be prone to say, "It's not bad. Sometimes the law professors are sweet and it's nice to have something to do all day. But where is it going? I've got two years invested and nothing but B's. Sure I got that A in Torts and it left me floating on air but I can't coast off that one romantic memory forever. Am I settling? Is this the best I can do? I think that Business School admissions officer was flirting with me the other day."

The middle is not the end of the world. You tried your best and ended up average. Focus on the fundamentals; you still get to be an attorney. Do you think the 8th guy who got to the lifeboat in the Titanic beat himself up for not swimming the fastest? No, he was just happy to stay afloat.

I think part of the problem is the negative connotation with the word “middle”. Middle gets a bad reputation because of some of its associations. The middle seat in the backseat of a car is called “bitch”. The Middle East has been an area of the world filled with religious and economic issues for years. When you are in a rural area, it’s said to be in the “middle of nowhere”. And, believe it or not, some people look at being in the middle class as undesirable. Can’t we give these positive connotations? Instead of calling the middle seat “bitch”, we can focus on the positive aspects, like how it’s less susceptible to death due to a side impact crash. The Middle East is very similar to Arizona, and everyone loves Arizona. Why not call it East Arizona from now on? And I’ve always preferred to call rural areas East Buttfuck, or some variation. And what’s wrong with being in the middle class? At the very least, you’ll own a house and car and take a decent vacation every year.

We lose sight of the positive associations “middle” has. The best part of any Little Debbie or Hostess snack cake is the creamy middle. “Stuck in the Middle with You” was a pretty decent song, and by far the biggest hit for Stealer’s Wheel. Malcolm in the Middle had a few good seasons, and introduced the world to Frankie Muniz. So you see, it’s all about perspective. Being in the middle isn’t so bad. You’ll be a 3L in a few months. You might as well go back to playing on the internet in class, IMing all the time, going out during the week, and borrowing outlines instead of making your own. If nothing else, at least you won’t be miserable.

Monday, May 08, 2006

Bright Lights, Big City

The upwardly mobile American has an odd migratory pattern: Grow up in the suburbs, go to some rural hinterland for college, live in cramped apartments and eat take out in the city until you have kids, then back to the suburbs. Rinse and repeat.

Some law students jump right into the city after undergrad and attend a law school downtown. These law students are struck everyday by the irony of the homeless asking them for money when, without student loans, these bums are worth more than they are.

Other law students suckle a few more years off of the state at a rural law school. Not only do these law students enjoy in-state tuition but they get Wal-Mart and $ 5 pitchers. While these rural students walk out of law school in less debt, they also walk out as naïve as whatever character Jennifer Love Hewitt is playing in her latest “pretty small town girl moves to the big city” TV show.

Lessons will be learned, like $125,000 doesn’t go so far when your new parking space costs as much as your old apartment.

Men will learn that a polo shirt is now dressing down not up. Women will learn that a complex hierarchy exists based on Kate Spade bags. Both sexes will learn that romance no longer blossoms over kegs and popped collars, and has become mere credential trading between $12 martinis. Ex: “You’re an anesthesiologist? I’m a workman’s comp attorney. I’m not sure which of us is better than the other.”

Most of all, everyone will learn that the city is not as exciting as promised. Just remember in the show “Friends” how even though they all lived in Manhattan, they rarely did anything cosmopolitan. The Friends mostly just hung out in their living rooms. So guess what? If you were boring in Lafayette, Indiana, you’ll still be boring in New York City.

Friday, May 05, 2006

Bad Reason for Attending Law School #10

I like to argue

Mike: Hey Russ, let me ask you a question…What would you say to someone who told you that they want to become an architect because they like to draw pictures of houses?

Russ: I’d say they don’t sound like they know what they’re talking about.

Mike: And Russ, what would you say to someone who told you they want to be a pharmacist because they like to put pills into bottles?

Russ: I’d say that they are missing the point of being a pharmacist.

Mike: So, then what would you say to someone that wants to be a lawyer because they like to argue?

Russ: I’d say that they don’t know what they are talking about and they are missing the point of the profession.


In my opinion, going to law school because you enjoy arguing is the worst reason to attend, but sadly, it’s all too common. Saying that you like to argue, and then deciding to convert this odd hobby into a career in law represents a fundamental misunderstanding of law school and the legal profession. Law is not about arguing; it’s about arguments. The difference between the two may seem subtle, but in reality, they are miles apart. Arguments have weight derived from logic and/or citation. Arguing is focusing on the delivery of arguments (by using volume, irrelevant anecdotes, etc.)

Being a successful law student (and eventually, a successful lawyer) requires that you know how to make a good argument. Unfortunately, the ability to make a good argument and the enjoyment of arguing for the sake of arguing are mutually exclusive traits. Those who enjoy arguing cannot be objective about it. They invest a personal stake in the argument, whether its ideology, or more often, pride. Instead of being able to objectively look at both sides of a situation and form a strategy for arguing either one, those who like to argue pick one side and will defend it to the death, no matter how inane or off base their points become. When facing an opponent who doesn’t fall for his or her impassioned yet inherently flawed argument, instead of conceding the point, or even agreeing to disagree, they become louder and more repetitive, in the hope that their opponent will have an epiphany and suddenly admit defeat. In reality, this strategy just makes them look obtuse and ignorant. Law school is for nerds, not hotheads. There's a place for these people, and it's not here; it's the AM radio bandwidth.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise, then, that the people who know how to make arguments are successful in law school, and the people who are there because they “like to argue” don’t fare quite so well. But can we fully blame those people who like to argue? Surely, this quality must have roots deep in their childhood. Maybe their parents saw little Jimmy disagree with everything his sister said, and told him, “One day you’ll grow up to be a lawyer.” The idea was planted in his head, and so as he got older, he would challenge anything and everything he encountered that he disagreed with, and more people would tell him, “You should be a lawyer.” Then, he graduates college and heads off to law school, where on the first day, he decides to argue with his professor. But the professor sees several people like him every year. He is ready for Jimmy’s logical fallacies and poorly reasoned points. The professor dismisses Jimmy, who’s arguing “skills” don’t appear as effective as he’d hoped. Poetic justice, I suppose. But maybe, instead of encouraging argumentative kids to become lawyers and further perpetuate this myth, we should call them what the really are: Assholes.

Thursday, May 04, 2006

Family Law

My family law professor has no practice exams available for his test tomorrow. Luckily, an episode of Maury Povich is on today that I was able to practice my custody law knowledge on. This epidode featured Georgetta, a single mother, who was returning to Maury for the 12th time to determine who the father of her children are.

Here is the fact pattern and my analysis.

Georgetta comes out to the crowd booing her. She wags her finger at them and says, “You don’t know me. I do what I want.” Several male audience members scowl and wave as though to shoo her away.


Georgetta is, in fact, right. Without a showing of evidence to the contrary she has a presumptive right to custody until we can identify the father who might challenge her claim.

Earl, one of the prospective fathers, denies parentage and declares Georgetta to be a “hood rat”.

Experts are often heard by a judge but rarely considered heavily. In considering custody, Georgetta’s financial condition, “hood,” may be weighed, but her moral behavior, “rat” is irrelevant unless it effects the child.

Maury announces that the DNA test proves that Earl is not the father. Earl pumps his fist in the air and says of the results, “That’s what I’m talking about.” Georgetta runs offstage crying.

With neither a biological basis nor intent to be a father, Earl has no claims for custody. Evidence of Georgetta’s hysterics, if found unreasonable under the circumstances, may show that her custody claim is not in the best interests of the child. That claim is only relevant, of course, if a valid competing paternal claim is proven on next week’s show.

Wednesday, May 03, 2006

Recent IM Conversation

Reader: When are you done?
barelylegalblog: Now...just turned in my take home exam, that was my last one
Reader: Oh my gosh, are you like totally excited? What did you do once you turned it in?
barelylegalblog: Well, I planted a big kiss on the registrar's mouth as she took my exam, and pranced down the hall, engaging everyone I met with a dance or a twirl, all the while shouting about how I'm done. Then as I went down the stairs, I broke into song, with all the aforementioned people who I danced and twirled with followed, comprising the chorus. I reached the bottom of the stairs, lept in the air and tapped my heels together, and led my group of backup singers and dancers out the door, where my song crescendoed into a stirring climax, we all struck a pose for a few seconds, and the dispersed, having momentarily been overtaken by the emotion of the moment, the monumental occasion of law school being over.
Reader: Very funny, smartass...what did you really do?
barelylegalblog: Came home and ate some tuna
Reader: How boring...you should stick with the first story.

Tuesday, May 02, 2006

People You Meet in Law School # 17: The BFFs

There are a few certainties in law school: The biggest know-it-all in your section will do poorly the first semester; Career Services will not help you with finding a career nor will they provide any sort of service; and female law students pair off by twos and become attached at the hips. These pairs are the Best Friends Forever, or BFFs.

The birth of a BFF relationship is quick yet subtle. On the first day of orientation, two girls spy each other from across the room, size each other up, and with a slight nod of the head decide that for the next three years, they will be inseparable. It’s as if they give off a pheromone that says “I’m into Kate Spade, chocolate martinis, and going after men that are out of my league”. Her doppelganger picks up this pheromone, and the next thing you know, the two girls are eating together, sitting next to each other in class, going to bars together, studying together, and generally not letting the other out of her sight.

A few defining characteristics of the typical BFF relationship: 1) The two girls will be roughly at the same level of attractiveness. However, each will secretly believe herself to be the better looking of the duo; 2) The two girls will have the same, or very similar, fashion styles. The wisest girls will pick a BFF who is the same size, so that her wardrobe options double; and 3) The BFFs will almost always have the same relationship status. Married girls pair up with other married girls, engaged girls with other engaged girls, and single girls with single girls. (Note: The very best pairs of BFFs will have alliterative names, such as Katie and Kim, Amber and Ashley, Leah and Laura, etc.)

Beyond those defining characteristic, each pair of BFFs can be categorized further by examining who they are. Some of the common BFF pairings:

*The Hot Girl BFFs- It’s a fact of life that in any social group, the hot girls will find each other and become friends.
*The Faux Hot Girl BFFs- Just because something quacks like a duck and walks like a duck doesn’t make it a duck, especially if it looks like a frog.
*The Ann Coulter BFFs- BFFs who are very active in the Republican Law Society.
*The Feminist BFFs- They are the mortal enemies of the Ann Coulter BFFs, and also the most likely to “experiment” with each other.
*The Party Girl BFFs- An added benefit: There is always someone to hold her hair back.
*The Married BFFs- It’s nice to have someone with whom to talk about how boring life has become.
*The Nerdy BFFs- What’s better than an overachiever making an outline? Two overachievers making two outlines.
*The Desperate Girl BFFs- Misery loves company.
*The Girl and Gay Guy BFFs- Because every homosexual male needs a female best friend.

Law school only lasts three years, so what becomes of the BFFs afterwards? Some will serve as bridesmaids in their respective weddings and remain active parts of each other’s social lives, forcing their husbands into awkward conversations about lawn care and sports for years to come. Others will grow apart, becoming networking contacts and having lunch together a few times a year, always parting by saying “We must do this more often”, but never really meaning it. Sadly, some will lose contact and get chalked up as one of those situational friends that people tend to make over the course of their lives, like a best friend from camp with whom you correspond a few times and then never again. And unfortunately, despite these seemingly deep bonds that have been formed, this is still law school and these are still women. This means, of course, that a girl would gladly throw her BFF in front of a truck if it meant grabbing a man or a job.

Monday, May 01, 2006

Bad Reason for Attending Law School #9

I’ve been in the real world and I don’t like my job

Lots of people don’t like their jobs. It is the nature of the beast. You have to wake up early, put on decent clothes, go somewhere you don’t really want to be, do work you don’t really want to do, come home, and get ready to do it again the next day. And at the end of the week, you get handed a check for your services.

Law school is completely different. You don’t have to wake up quite so early, and you really don’t have to put on decent clothes. Then you go somewhere you don’t really want to be, and do work you don’t really want to do. After that, you come home and get ready to do it all again the next day. But instead of getting handed a check, you have to hand one over yourself, before you even start.

To do the math on that transaction: You are essentially paying for the right to sleep an extra hour or two, and to have the option of wearing jeans and a hoodie every day. Does that seem like a good deal to you?

The structure of our current educational system doesn’t really prepare college grads for the real world. It’s funny how four years of keg stands, beer pong, and living in squalor doesn’t transition well into having real responsibilities. Talk to the average college senior, and they expect that the world will be their oyster once they get out there. Personally, I blame Jennifer Aniston. A generation of girls saw her go from working at a coffee shop, to working for Bloomingdales, to having her dream job with Ralph Lauren after a few short years and relatively little effort. And a generation of guys thought that no matter how mundane their job was, a girl like her would be working at the local Bennigan’s-esque restaurant, ready to be swept off her feet. Sadly, reality hits them in the face like a bad Chandler joke. (Or should I just say a Chandler joke?) Suddenly, they have a job and a title and all the responsibilities that go along with it, but Ralph Lauren isn’t calling, and the waitresses at Bennigan’s are all either 19, or have kids, or both.

Soon, dissatisfaction sets in. Their mind begins to wander back to the good old college days, and nostalgia sets in. Then, one day, they have an idea: “I’ll go to law school!” The problem with this decision is that, for many of them, they don’t really want to be a lawyer. They just want out of their current situation, and law school is the most feasible alternative. They’ll give up their salary, and pay for three years of exile from the real world. Unfortunately, many of them find law school to be a drag, almost as much as working was. Many of them do the math and figure out that for a tenth of the cost of law school, they could have taken one hell of a vacation.

Perhaps the biggest question is, if you are dissatisfied with your current job, why would you then want to enter a profession with the highest rate of job dissatisfaction? If life in the real world is really that bad, why not move, or find a new job, or get a hobby, or do something less drastic than going to law school just for a change of scenery? I know that from your cubicle, the law school grass looks awfully green. But once you get here, you’ll see that it’s really just a big field of crab grass.