Extra, Extra!

3Ls, don't forget to cash in your Westlaw points!

They expire 1 month after your graduation date, as set in Westlaw (for my account, it was set at 5/31/2010, which I suspect is similar for other May grads). Free stuff! Yeah!

An added bonus: Check out the "career essentials" section for a $50 BarBri refund (read: check mailed directly to you, from Westlaw). The Westlaw cost is 3600 points. More free stuff! Yeah!

The rare problem that a good glass of wine won't solve.

I do not know anything about California Trusts.

Eff.


Barzam fail.

A resume tip I shouldn't have to be handing out.

If you are "let go" from your place of employment for what is best filed under "general incompetence and inability to show up on time, ever" or "didn't actually do work"....

Here's a word to the (un)wise. Do not, after being let go:

(A) Put your former supervisor (hi!) as a reference. I have not forgotten that conversation we had where I had to explain to you about work being, you know, something you do to get money. As opposed to what you were doing, which was not working, and then hoping to get paid for it. Because when I put on my Very Serious Consequences face and informed you that you were not longer welcome in your place of (previous) employment, I did not mean "and also, I will say nice things about you if any potential employers call!" I really am a nice boss, but I am not a liar. I will not put my credibility on the line for you. I will not seek to ruin your life, but seriously, folks: Do not send people to ask me questions (Is this person timely? [no] Reliable? [no] How did their employment end? [In a fiery burst of poor judgment]) that you do not want answered.

(B) Represent to a common acquaintance and coworker in your (new, but short-lived) job that you and I are just superduper friends. We were not friends then. We are not friends now. Again: I am a patient boss. I am a nice boss. But I am not a forgetful boss. Professionalism dictated that I be nice to you then. But that was before law school, and in case you forgot, I'm not your boss anymore. Because I fired you. And while I'm glad you still think I'm "cool," using my name and reputation as a buzzword is not going to get you very far. Especially if you keep using it with people who know me. Believe me, you do not want them to ask my candid opinion of you. They have likely already guessed it.

(C) Suggest that you, Common Acquaintance, and I should all "hang out together" because I (former supervisor) am just So Fun To Hang Out With. Because I, my friend, have not forgotten how much you sucked at your job. Please see above. And when you make this suggestion, Common Acquaintance will call me to get the scoop---and you, my friend, will be outed as Generally Incompetent Gina. I do not go about town advertising the fact that your employment was terminated. Do not do yourself the disfavor of bringing that fact up through your efforts to impress people.

To summarize:
1. Your boss is not your friend.
2. Especially if they haven't spoken to you in 4 years.
3. And they fired you.
4. So, seriously, stop pretending that we are friends.
5. Because inevitably, it will get back to me. And then you will be outed as a lying liar. And it will be awkward for everyone.

This is a basic lesson in life skills, folks.

Law School Roundup #231

Welcome to Law School Roundup #231. By the time this post goes up, dear readers, I will either be (a) nursing a hangover after Roommate's bachelorette party, or (b) making the family reunion rounds at DarwinFest 2010. 5 States, 4 days. Bring it.

The curve: Everyone's got an opinion (Legally Questionable Content)
On the meat market: On being single in law school (i don't wear skinny jeans)
Snacks: On groceries, personality, and the bar. (Virgin in the Volcano)
Gather them up: On the race for credentials (New Kid on the Hallway)
Tell us how you really feel: Family is for sharing (Only 3 Years)
All dressed up: Dressing for the firm interview (The Reasonably Prudent Law Student)
Summer Loving: Getting along with the administrative assistants. (Legal Ease)
Meanwhile, in the real world: Spelling doesn't count. (Blonde Justice)

Look for next week's roundup at the Beyond the Underground, and then back here again in 2 weeks. Now, back to BarBri. Enjoy the summer free time while it lasts, 2Ls!

A drop in the bucket

Made my first (infinitesimally small) student loan payment today. It turns out that I forgot to defer one of my loans? Go freakin' team. It felt good and disgusting all at the same time.

Then I failed my practice MBE. Spectacularly, flamboyantly, serious-reconsideration-of-life-choicesly, failed it.

What I'm trying to say is: my loan debt is enough to purchase a modest house, or a very very nice car, and all I have to show for it is three years of blogging, 20 pounds of fat and 200 pounds of books, and a laptop that is very much the worse for the wear. Contracts? Property? We took those? It all fell out of my head this morning, at approximately 8:10 am (this was between the "Where the hell do I find my BarBri number?!" and "Where the hell are my keys?!" freakouts, respectively).

I also: Nearly got run over on the freeway, got stuck in traffic, snapped at my brother, ripped a pair of shorts, and cried a fair bit out of self pity. Standard No Good Very Bad Day things.

And then the lady next to me at BarBri started (graphically) describing her contractions in class. No, not like Schoolhouse Rock. I am sure that childbirth is worse than the bar...but I'd rather not have the full illustration, thanks.

Oof. Time to go to bed and start over.

The secret of bar exam success

...is, I'm convinced, staying focused for that long. Suddenly, the mind-numbing character of the BarBri lectures is starting to add up.

Le sigh. I need to pack snacks. And a seat cushion.

Law School Roundup #230

Law School Roundup #230 is up over at Beyond the Underground. Check back here, same great place and time, for #231!

It's a new era, folks.

I just got a friend request from my aunt's Golden Retriever on Facebook. His favorite quotes, in case you were wondering are "No, no, pet me first!" and "Where's my ball?"

It bears mentioning that this is not the first of the Nobody family dogs on Facebook.

A proud day, indeed

Thank you, Google Analytics, for revealing that among the top ten searches that send someone to my blog are "something dead in my wall." I also wanted to relive that experience. Thanks. (Also featured: "lawsuit runway model falls on stairs over equipment" and "law school made me fat" and "febreeze v. mouse smell").

NB: Adding to the online legal dialogue since 2007.

I'm putting this in the "Win" column

Tonight, instead of doing my BarBri homework, I got drunk with a local (German Shepherd-loving) attorney, a formal pro athlete whose name I forgot, and a woman who trains police dogs ("I had the most interesting date last night--- a woman who actually works two jobs." Ten points and so much blog love if you get this reference).

So yes. It's been a productive evening, thankyouverymuch. Chillin' with my homeboy Erwin tomorrow. Con Law. Le sigh.

In which the internet decides I am having a shotgun wedding

I returned home from BarBri yesterday to find a package on my front doorstep.

Or, more accurately, my parents' front doorstep, as I made the exceptional life choice of living at home while studying for the bar. Apparently I value free rent and a growing garden more than my sanity, but that, friends and neighbors is a story for another day (file it under "I Told You So").

Anyway, the box was addressed to me, and I was a little confused at first--I certainly hadn't ordered anything, and the outside looked...unfamiliar. Still, my family and friends are notorious for box recycling, so that must be the problem, right?
Wrong. If it looks like a box full of baby formula, and it smells like a box full of baby formula, and it feels like a box full of baby formula...friends, Internetz, it might be a box full of baby formula.

The obligatory explanation as to how and why I ended up with a Costco-sized shipment of Similac should go here. But seriously---I have no idea. I am not pregnant, nor is anyone I know. The box was addressed to me. I have not been frequenting baby stores, or signing up for strange mailing lists. I have most certainly not been ordering baby related things online. In fact, the only thing that I've done in the last few weeks that would cause anything at all to come to the house is sign up for two wedding list serves, and change my address with the California Bar. I am relatively comfortable ruling out the Bar Examiners as culprits in this (they only take things from me, like money and sanity), so I'm blaming the Internet.

Not you, commenters, subscribers, and people with names---the nefarious and nebulous unknown "Internet" out there. The one who creepily adjusts my facebook ads and occasionally intervenes in real life in ways that make me want to run away and be a hermit. I am alternately creeped out (Help! The baby-food mafia knows where I live!), annoyed (WTF, guys, "married" does not mean "BABIES! START YOUR ENGINES!"), mortified (you try explaining to my very Catholic mother why no, you have no idea where this came from omg I swear I'm not pregnant, can we please stop talking about it now?) and horribly entertained. Because seriously? Baby food? Very funny, Universe.

This box is going to the local women's shelter---because creeped out as I am, I can't bring myself to throw it away without thinking that some poor child somewhere (whose family, presumably, the Universe does not so delight in taunting with ludicrous interludes the way it does to me), will need it (See: Catholic mother, above). I briefly considered using it as a contest prize, or shipping it on to some equally unsuspecting non-mother, but it just seemed mean spirited.

Still, if I get diapers next week: watch out, Fantasy ANTM participants. Someone's getting goodies in the mail.

I Love This Man, Part 543

Me: So, what have you been up to today?
Darwin: Watching the Food Network and looking at plans for barns. I want to build a barn.

...It's important to plan ahead, you see. The real question, Darwin, is this: will there be room for the goats in the barn?

Law School Roundup #229

Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to Law School Roundup #229.

For this week's collection of posts from law students current, aspiring, and recovering, see below:

Goodies: A new era of swag (Law School: What's the big deal?)

Unplugged: Getting off the smartphone addiction (The Corner in the Middle)

Medley: BarBri Chuck, at his best (A Fairly Typical Account)

Discombobulated: Walking out of bar prep, in a nutshell (Legally Fabulous)

Information overload: Attorney-tron (Law is Cool)

The daring young man on the flying trapeze: On skills, and law school (Dennis Jansen)

Mo' Money, Less Loans: TDot's money saving tips for law students (law:/dev/null)

Journal Invitations: That about sums it up (i don't wear skinny jeans)

Nice Guys: and their role in law school (Swimming with the Sharks)

New Eyes: On the beauty of going home. (The JE Guide to Life)

Look for next week's roundup at the Beyond the Underground, and then back here again in 2 weeks. Happy summer!

Party in the U.S.A.

You're welcome.



That is all.

I need to develop my superpowers.

There is a horrible boy in the front row of my BarBri class who (among other glaring faults) has worn a plaid vest (and nothing else) every day this week.

My multiple attempts to kill him with my eyes have not been successful. I can't even make his hoodie-vest grow sleeves.

Le sigh. I wish I'd learned more useful things in law school.

Law School Roundup #228

Law School Roundup #228 is up at Beyond the Underground. Check back here, same great time and place, for #229!

Is there anyone out there?

Ok, so in a standard-me summer move, I dropped off the face of the earth coming into finals, and took a solid two weeks to even marginally recover from that experience.

There was so much bloggable material in there, guys, and I just. couldn't. find. the time to write it all down. This is how you know I'm overbooked: when I don't even have time for my favorite methods of procrastination. Also, if you're a new reader, you should go back and read me as a 1L. I was much funnier then.

I hate "this is my life" roundup posts, because, honestly--a summary? Come on now. Still, let's catch you all up, shall we? (Most) of these highlights will get their own blog post later, but it hardly seems fair to leave you out of the loop.

America's Next Top Model ended...and I still have no idea (a) who won, and (b) who won the fantasy league. Epic Blog Fail. I know guys, I'm sorry. Someone out there is owed a belated prize package, and it will be coming. Also, so kind of "sorry I suck at this" bonus for your patience. I promise to have my act together on this by next weekend. I am honestly consumed with Catholic guilt about this, and really do apologize.

(goodbye, last loyal reader)

Then, I took 19 units in my last semester of law school. I don't know what my problem is, either. It was awful. My thoughts on that experience may eventually follow, and seriously--I feel kind of like an ass for missing out on such excellent blog fodder, but c'est la vie. It was awful. Don't do it.

The Journal of Fun & Wonderment, several typos and one (who are we kidding? many) hysterical crying jag later, is done. DONE DONE DONE. Proofs are signed, covers are running through the printers as we speak, send me my bound copy and don't read it too closely: DONE. I am too exhausted to be thrilled, but signed the final proofs today with a mix of relief and paranoia. More blogging on that to follow.

Oh but hey, I'm still writing this summer. Obviously. One paper which is almost ready to be circulated to the journals, another which is still in need of some heavy editing. You can thank my raging case of "bites off more than she can chew" and my two manic advisers for this particular epic. Suffice it to say that The Paper of Which We Do Not Speak (previously featured on this blog as "The Bane of My Existence" and "Oh Shit I May Actually Never Finish") grew up into a piece of work that my 4th Amendment wonk adviser characterized as "sophisticated" and "worth serious academic consideration," so we are working together this summer to make those 22,000 words (OW OW OW THE PAIN) into something that doesn't footnote to "ECPA says this somewhere." Smart ideas: Check. Research: Check. Imbecilically relying on my own knowledge, rather than just looking it up the first time around? Checkity check check. I am both stoked about the potential for this project, and loathe to revisit the topic. Harumph.

Anyway, they totally gave me a diploma. Which was amazing, and emotional, and incredible. And then I cried, because that's what I do when they play the alma mater. NoSchool doesn't just play the alma mater, they pipe it through every speaker system in the tri-county area for a three day period, so there was lots of crying. And I will blog about this, in a totally not-timely fashion. But seriously, 2Ls? It's worth it to go to your graduation. Don't skip it. Even though the academic garb is designed to make you look like the lead munchin.

We did it!

And then, I tried to move my entire life out of my apartment in 3 days. And the Socialite and the Child Genius and Darwin and my family swept in a rescued my sanity, packing like whirlwinds, stowing all the assorted detritus of my law school life that I don't really need but couldn't cope with packing or throwing away, and staying late into the night drinking silly cocktails, giggling, and telling campfire stories on my empty living room floor. For this, they should all be nominated for sainthood. I am phenomenally blessed to have them in my life.

And then I planted myself at Darwin's for a few days. After several weeks of running around like a maniac, I was so glad to spend the week before bar prep started just reconnecting with Darwin, who has been a hero through this law school experience in so many ways. We did a lot of the fun, relaxed things that we hadn't had time for in the months prior- a sweet last hurrah before I headed back home for bar prep: grabbing a beer with old friends, tooling around town, and just generally enjoying the summer and each others' company.

And then, refueled, Darwin & I trekked into the wilderness. And didn't pack sunscreen (thank you, German and Irish ancestors, for that charming memento of the trip). We went on a deceptively long hike to the lake and bonded over the challenge, oohed and aahed at the wonders of a national seashore, and made some new friends. It was a perfect (and perfectly lovely) day. This hodge-podge post is not an appropriate spot for the long-overdue post about Darwin's amazingness, and the sweetness of being able to spend a special weekend just the two of us, but take it from me, Internetz: it was fantastic.

And then we went here:

...And Darwin, man of infinite good sense, asked me to marry him. And I said yes. (Actually, in the interest of journalistic integrity, I said "REALLY?!?!?!" and then I said yes. But he got the general idea).

If I'm still glowing now, it's not just the ring or the sunburn. I'm not usually so sugar & spice in my blogging, but the last few weeks have made me intensely aware of how fortunate I am--t0 have the love and support of the friends that I do, to have found someone that I am so intensely happy to grow old alongside, to have gone to a school that, deep in my bones, I will always love, and to have graduated with the support of a hilarious, crazy, fiercely loyal bunch of people that my life would be incomplete without.

I'm in a good place--we're in a good place. And I can't wait to tell you about this crazy journey as it unfolds.

(And that, Internetz, is why I had to write you a summary. Because I just couldn't bear to wait any longer before telling you).