Law School Roundup #214

Law School Roundup #214 is up over at Beyond The Underground.

Check back here, same great place and time, for Roundup #215.

When the going gets tough...

The tough sit on the couch with the cat and a bowl of ice cream.

Right?

Signs of the times.

Yesterday, I was so annoyed with the journal + the 2Ls + law school + life that by 2 o'clock, I had to make some pasta sauce from scratch and drink an angry beer.

Oy.
Even my tantrums are homebodies.

True or False?

I am working on my character and fitness application for the bar exam.

Today, while trying to find a series of emails between my former roommates and I, which had a number of my college addresses in it, I searched "UGH BAR EXAM IS STUPID."

The search returned 8 emails.

...which just goes to show:
1. It really is.
2. I need to find a more creative way of saying that.

Law School Roundup #213

Welcome to Law School Roundup #213. It's late. Like me, on the way to class.

If you give a mouse a cookie: There is always something more (UALR Law Student)

Knowing your place: On humility. (Last Call for Recklessness)

Been There, Done That: Words of advice for the OLs (Dennis Jansen) (Legal Numbness)

Surrender: When it all piles up (Virgin in the Volcano)

Powering Through: On motivation. (The JE Guide to Life)

Culinary: On drinking, and cooking (Legal Ease)

Head Games: Snow. It's a mind bender. ((In)Sanity Souffle)

Perfect Sense: Just another day in the life of your average law student (Legally Fabulous)

Best Foot Forward: Why do we let the prospectives meet the real students, again? (Legally Questionable Content)

Touche: On trump cards, and miserable weather (Mommy on the Floor)

Look for next week's roundup at the Legal Underground, and then back here again in 2 weeks. If you want to be added to the blog roll, but don't see yourself up there shoot me an email and we'll get you on the wall of dis-honor. Or email me anyway. Even if you're bored in class. I love emails.

Now if you'll excuse me, my glass is empty, and Alton Brown wants to treat me about truffles.

Kisses!

NB

Could. Not. Be. More Awesome.

There is a Candadian in a velour bandleader outfit, twirling around to Phantom of the Opera. He follows what I can only describe as a deranged skating french clown.

God bless the men's long program. I LOVE the Olympics.

I see your habeas corpus, and I raise you a bouquet garni.

This week has been rough.

It started last Thursday, when the faculty advisor to the Journal of Fun and Wonderment told me that we needed to stop production on one of our articles (Our article that is holding up the release of the entire next issue. Yes. That article.), because there were some 'changes' that needed to be made. Said changes were delivered to me, handwritten, because our faculty advisor is somehow incapable of operating a word processing program, and I spent Valentines Day weekend peering at Darwin over the top of my laptop, muttering obscenities. WTF, guys. He has basically re-written the article. I have pointed out to him numerous times that (a) this is a waste of everyone's time, and (b) the authors are going to pee themselves when they find out that he wants to do this.

To be fair, this is not necessarily all that different from how I would have spent Valentine's Day weekend, but it prevented me from catching up on several weeks worth of reading and writing about things like 'collateral attacks on state judgements,' and trying desperately to catch up in my new favorite class "Fed Tax: The Terror of Failure 2.0." Then again, my Fed Tax book would never email me to tell me that it hopes that the extra work it has created for me hasn't prevented me from enjoying 'this beautiful winter day.' Answer: Yes, asshole. Yes it has.

I spent the remainder of the weekend working on an article which was full of completely unsupported assertions which needed dealing with. In ordinary circumstances, I would send it back to the slackers horrible demon children 2Ls who should have dealt with the article to begin with: but I've been swamped, and I should have taken care of this literally months ago, so now, I sort of have to just deal with it myself to speed the thing along through our pipelines. This is basically The Suck, and it's my own fault. I got through the final round of edits on the article, and emailed the author with 57(!!!) spots where some kind of supporting material was needed, asking him to provide the citations. He emailed me back to tell me he would "consider my suggestions."

I get 10 Lenten bonus points for not responding "Consider THIS. BOO-YA."

In addition to Mr. I Have A Feeling But No Support For It, I have 7 or 8 other different idiot authors breathing down my throat about when their articles are coming out, and two faculty editors equally neurotically asking the same question. The fundamental problem? I cannot move in any direction until (a) my idiot authors do whatever it is they've been told to do for literally months, or (b) the faculty editors actual give me the feedback/edits/whatever the hell it is they do that they've been promising for, literally, months.

It has recently occurred to me that our faculty editors have far too much power and far too little an idea of what actual happens when an issue goes to print. In other recent news, faculty should never be allowed to take sabbatical. At least, not if they are going to sit around the law school and stick their fingers into projects they can only slow down.

You know that classic image of the little man, shaking his fists up at the sky? I am that sad, ineffectual person.

I could delegate, but then again, my second-in-command recently emailed me from the office to ask if there was a stapler....in the office. So. You know. The competency level in these parts is not super.

So yes, if you're thinking about running for an Editor position, my advice to you is this: Don't. Stop right now. Seriously, I mean it, you silly gunner. STEP SLOWLY AWAY FROM THE CHICAGO MANUAL.

My cell phone is dying. So is my car. And my laptop. And my desktop in the Journal of Fun and Wonderment office. I haven't checked on my iPod recently (am currently on the get-fat-till-graduation workout plan), but presumably, if it's electronic and/or mechanical and associated with me, it's probably on the fritz. Don't get me started on classes.

...what I'm trying to say is: Today was the day that I realized that I was teetering on the brink of sanity, just appropriately poised for the regularly scheduled 10 o'clock conniption.

So, I took myself to the grocery store. I bought a ridiculous amount of produce and nice cheese, and I took myself home to engage in my secret not that secret oh come on everyone knows you're a huge food nerd coping mechanism. I chopped and I simmered and stirred. I remembered how delightful the smell of browning butter is. I thought nostalgic thoughts about making pasta sauce with my mom as a kid, and I lovingly scraped and scooped and stirred with the awesome wooden spoons Darwin got me for Christmas. I took many deep breaths.

At times like these, I need to cook. Not the quick, throw-the-chicken-on-the-grill cooking- luxurious, high-maintenance, labor of love cooking. I need to stand over something that simmers and sniff it like a connoisseur. I need to find exactly the kind of delicious cheese to go with my pet project, and nibble at it while I think important balsamic thoughts. It's not just that cooking makes me happy. Deep in my not that secret heart, it's because if I chop, and I stir, and I loose myself in all of these textures and smells, and I master just this one thing, I can go to bed at night having accomplished something. Nobody asks for seconds on my property theory papers- but no one turns down an extra spoonful of my gravy, either.

And sometimes, it is important to take the time to keep yourself sane (even if emailing Mr. I Have A Feeling would have been momentarily rewarding). Or at least well-fed.

So now, it's 11 o'clock on a Wednesday night, and I am simmering my life a batch of french onion soup back into submission. If it doesn't come around soon, I'm going to throw some rosemary at it. And if that doesn't work, I'll have no choice but to move on to turkey and homemade stuffing.

Consider yourself warned.

What this world needs

...is someone to liveblog the Olympic Figure Skating.

KK, I tag YOU!

A good start.

Rolled out of bed early this morning, snuggled with Sofa the Cat and washed my face. Meandered to the kitchen and started the coffee. Wrapped myself in a warm fuzzy blanket and camped out at the dining room table. Deliberately set aside the hellacious article I spent most of last night editing for the Journal of Fun and Wonderment.

Sat very still.

Drank a delicious, nutty, rich cup of coffee. Ate a dark chocolate brownie. Spent some time alone with my thoughts, ignoring my to-do list. Watched the snow fall.


It's things like these that keep me from locking my terrible 2L staffers in the basement.


Happy Mardi Gras. Live it up, and give thanks for the little things.

Law School Roundup # 212

Law School Roundup #212 is up over at Beyond the Underground.

Check back here, same great place and time, for #213.

Only if they're trainable.

Sometimes, the Journal of Fun and Wonderment makes me want to tear my hair out and run screaming for the hills.

It is on these occasions that I am grateful for Alpha EIC (my predecessor...I'm the Beta version), with whom I can have conversations like this:

Me: I hate this author. I hope he falls off a cliff and is eaten by a pack of rabid bluebooks.
Alpha: Make it zombie rabid bluebooks. Then you can send the zombie author after that other awful editor, and get two birds with one stone (or one pack of rabid, zombie, bluebooks).

Today in Fed Courts

Franky Four Eyes: "Well, yes, but that case was about federalism and separation of powers and a concern about unitary federal law, and this is totally different"
Prof. Smarter Than You: "Wha...why?"
Franky Four Eyes: "It just works differently"
Prof. Smarter Than You: "No."

[spoiler for the 1Ls: In fed courts, it is basically always about federalism and separation of powers]

At least at the zoo, the monkeys get a treat.

This is a basic summary of what happens in my Statutory Interpretation class, populated mostly by gunners, assholes, idiots, and me (on any given day, I am some combination of the 3):

Child Genius: So, like, the law is ambiguous. And that's like, weird or something. What should we do?
That Kid Who Is Making The Rest of Law Review Look Bad: Tautology! Philology! I brought a thesaurus!
One of Two Reasonable People in the Room: Yes, let's explore that...wait, what are you talking about?
That Kid: Oh. Well, I will read selections from the reading out loud to you, very slowly, and see if I can make a point that sticks. Ready? Can you see it now? I will use my 'lecturing the idiots' tone in case you think that I am maybe full of crap.
The other one of Two Reasonable People in the Room: Um, but what about this perfectly reasonable point that I will point out to you?
That Kid: Well. I didn't read the case that closely. But that seems wrong.

Child Genius: Guys. I just totally noticed something. It's like, some people say "vehicle" and they mean "truck," and some people mean "car" and so language is like, ambiguous. Weird.

Bleeding Heart Liberal: But think of the people without a voice! We can't trust judges! I am having a thought, so I will shout it! I am not concerned about connecting with what is going on in class! I love the sound of my own voice! I have a feeling! And also, we don't know what laws mean. Who decides what they mean? And how?
Cold Hearted Conservative: But they don't pay taxes! Also, no, we can't trust judges! Or voters! I have a feeling, too! I will shout about my feelings so that I cannot hear your feelings! Shouting is fun! My voice is neat! Let's call each other naive and hypocritical, and see who snaps first! The law! Yeah! Who decides what it all means?

That Kid's Idiot Twin Brother: I have no need of statutory interpretation. I am inherently right. Therefore, I shall repeat my ideas loudly, and use increasingly absurd hyperbole, in order to show how right I am. In the event that you do not see my rightness immediately, I will either stare intently at you until you get it, or repeat the inane thing I said very, very slowly, so that you can see my rightness. Then I shall make quizzical and bemused faces at you until, astounded and befuddled by my contortions, you give up and come to terms with my rightness.

Child Genius: Holy Cow. Guys. I just heard. Language: it's like, ambiguous or something. I have an idea! Let's all sit around in a circle and talk about that. Because I think that somehow, somewhere, someone has not repeated this idea, and it is important that we repeat this over and over again, until its very, very clear. Unambiguous even.

Me: Holy mother of Wittgenstein, I hate all of you.


So yes, Mom, school is going great and I'm making lots of friends.

Law School Roundup # 211

The snowpocalypse is upon us (DC, I know this sucks. But seriously, guys, you have no idea), and I've rounded out my Monday with a steak and a nice bottle of wine.
So yes, there are some upsides to law school.

Without further ado, here is Law School Roundup #211:

Perspective: On upsides, and showers. (Legal Ease)

Doomed: Groundhogs. Who needs 'em? (Legally Numb)

Ugh: Further confirmation that Fed Tax is, in fact, The Worst Thing Ever (Delicious Torts)

Who moved my cheese? The law school rat race (New Kid on the Hallway)

Disheartening? The break-even salary (The Rising Jurist)

Room Service: What's that on the wall? (Tales of a Tree Hugging 2L)

Secret: ..wait for it....dary. Suit up. (i don't wear skinny jeans)

Help: For when your "hang" runs headlong into your "over" (oh hay its kk)

Juries: Watch out for the liberals (Virgin in the Volcano)

Scream: One of the best descriptions of finals I've heard in a long time (Now That I'm Awake)

Insomnia: The Scone Cure (tales of the basil queen)

Look for next week's roundup at the Legal Underground, and then back here again in 2 weeks. If you want to be added to the blog roll, but don't see yourself up there shoot me an email and we'll get you on the wall of dis-honor. Or email me anyway. Even if you're bored in class. I love emails.

Now if you'll excuse me, my glass is empty, and Alton Brown wants to treat me about truffles.

Kisses!

NB

To sum it up:

Law school is hard, and I am tired.

Tonight: Long distance drunk date with Funny Mean Friend. Wine to dull the pain of editing, for both of us. Writing (always writing).

Tomorrow: More class. More writing.


What have I gotten myself into?