Law Archives - Page 25 of 41

The angry neighbor

April 29, 2009

My apartment building is buzzing about the angry notes taped on all of the building’s exits. Apparently someone’s dog (not mine!) peed in front of our building. And yes, the alleged pee puddle has a note taped to it as well:

I say “alleged” pee puddle because it has been there for two days now without drying. I think someone poured out some hooch or something…

One of my neighbors is definitely scared of Harley – I’m leaving my apartment to take Harley on a walk and I hear a gasp from the end of the hallway:
Neighbor-lady: “He chained? I aint walking by no big dog…”
Me: “Yes. He’s leashed. He’s really friendly too…”
Neighbor-lady: “He looks like he RIPS PEOPLE’S HEADS OFF!”
Me: “Uh… well, my head is still here!”
Later on we had a visit by a maintenance man. I held Harley’s collar and let him into the apartment.
Maintenance man: “Oh, don’t worry. I have three Anatolian mastiffs at home. They weigh twice his size. Heyah!”
I’m surprised by how many people own mastiffs, but I guess there’s not an occasion for people to mention that to a non-mastiff owner.

Harley and I passed the neighborhood elementary school on a walk this morning and a third grader insisted that Harley was a Bull-mastiff because “his cousin’s dog looks just like that.” The runt is a total 0L and he doesn’t even know it! As we walked away he screamed “AND HE LOOKS JUST LIKE YOU TOO!”

Well…gee…watch it kid. Don’t think I won’t give Michael Jackson the address of the playground…

…I was under the delusion that today would be more productive than it was. I spent the morning “running errands.”

I had to get two important things:

A coffee table, since I was sick of outlining on the couch and leaning positions aren’t exactly comfortable right now…and…
Some bitter-dog spray. Harley has developed a fondness for the string tips of my window blinds and my UMiami beach towel. The bitter-spray is the equivalent of dog mace. I smeared it on everything that shouldn’t be digested.

The spray should work because it tastes god-awful. How do I know? Well, I bought a covered push-to-open trash can so Harley-Scalia wouldn’t pilfer the garbage during the day. I sprayed some of the bitter-spray on the can and of course I FORGOT about the spray. I touched the mace-covered “open” button for the trash can…and…A few minutes later I rubbed my mouth and began five minutes of…um… French.¹

Hopefully it’s awful enough to stop a mastiff…

Harley-Scalia has also discovered how to open the toilet. If I don’t close the bathroom door then he’s guaranteed to drink out of the tiolet.

Harley thinks I don’t know about this. I was in my bedroom when I heard these HUGE gulps coming from the bathroom.

Harley heard me get up and scurried into the kitchen. He was sitting next to his dog bowl, looking at me like “What? I was SO here the whole time!”

Yeah. Huh-huh. Right.

I only got through one outline today, which was underwhelming. I had such grand plans to get two outlines done and maybe attempt to move some more stuff over…but no. Fail. One outline was all that I finished. I went to fetch more soda and found Harley inspecting my books:

I have a property practice exam at 9am tomorrow, and a Criminal Law review session shortly after that. Staying away from school until my finals? Hah. Nonsense.

More bitchy neighbor notes after the jump:

1L Spring Finals / dogs / picture of the day

Overwritten

April 28, 2009

Today was the last official day of school. There are still review sessions and group practice exams, but no more formal classes.

My classmates had a “glad you’re still alive!” card for me¹ and a big bone for Harley-Scalia:

The best part about the card was what one of the international students wrote:
“I thought you among the smartest men I’ve ever met, but now the impression is overwritten…get better soon!”
Hilarity.

It’s almost 8pm and should finish my civil procedure outline … but instead I’m going to bed.

Exam studying starts in earnest tomorrow…

¹ AND a vanilla-scented candle, since Harley-Scalia farts something vicious… you rock Cristina!

Law School / on the record

Professor P knows…

April 28, 2009

Professor P is charitable. Other professors would have screamed “PAY ATTENTION FOOL!”
Professor P: “If you missed class on any of those days where I passed out a handout, don’t worry. I always collect the extras and give them to my secretary. You may pick up extra handouts with her.”
(Professor P answers a question from another student, then Jill raises her hand.)
Jill: “Do you have an extra handout for future interests?”
The entire class starts laughing. Jack, who sits next to Jill, is laughing so hard that he has to turn away.
Professor P (to Jill): “Uh…extra handouts are with my secretary.”
(Professor P looks at Jack, who is still laughing.)
Professor P (to Jack): “Oh believe me, I know what you’re thinking.”

1L Spring Finals / Life / memories

Jansen gets shot

April 27, 2009

My night started at a homeless shelter and ended in the E.R.

It’s easier to write a post about this once rather than relive the “how I got shot” story for everyone who asks about it. It was a freak accident, and I was lucky not to be paralyzed or killed. I’m really just down one Hollister shirt and a blazer…and one day of studying I suppose. We’ll see how bad moving around is going to be when I wake up…

Eric wanted to go to the Gay 90’s because Sunday is that club’s busiest night. I spent most of the weekend working and moving to the new apartment, so I figured a random Sunday night at the club was warranted.

Our night started at the Minneapolis homeless shelter where we met up with Tee, who was just getting off work. (Eric volunteers at the shelter, and Tee works there full time.)

Tee insisted that she could not go to the clubhouse wearing jeans, so we took a long detour to Tee’s house where she threw on her House of Dereon dress…

I thought the night was over when we left the club, but I was wrong.

I’m walking across Hennepin Avenue with what felt like the entire hiphop room of the Gay 90’s, when I hear popping sounds.

People scream and start running.
I feel something hit my back.

I stop on the curb and call over to T.

Me: “I think I got hit.”
Tee: “Shut up, where?”
(I lift up the back of my shirt and point.)
Tee: “OH MY GOD, they got you! They shot you!”
Me: “It’s a gunshot?”
Tee: “YES! THEY GOT YOU! (then to the street) HE GOT SHOT!”

I think, “Well that’s a new one...Okay, I’m not paralyzed, so I better get to a police officer before I pass out.”

I run back across Hennepin to the cops standing on the corner.

Me: “Hey Officer,”
(Officers look at me like I’m nuts)
Me: “I think I got shot.”
(I turn around and pull up my shirt.)
Officer: “Yep. Sit down. We’ll call the ambulance.”

Tee crosses the street and starts prodding my wound for the bullet. She keeps repeating that she thinks it just grazed me. I call mom.

Mom: “Huh?”
Me: “Hey, I just got shot.”
Mom: “You just got what?”
Me: “I just got shot.”
Mom: Where?”
Me: “In front of a club.”
Mom: “Why are you out on a Sunday?”

More police come. A stranger brings me a bottle of water.

Stranger: “You are shaking because you’re losing blood. That’s why you have to drink a lot of water.”

I found out that the lady stayed and prayed for me after I left…

So it’s around 2:30 a.m. on a Monday and I’m sitting downtown bleeding on the side of the street. Random people coming from clubs stop as they see the blood coming from my back. This isn’t cute. I had a pretty good idea that I was going to miss this morning’s civil procedure class…
The ambulance comes and the paramedics spend time stabbing me with needles and tubes, and ask if I have any allergies every five minutes.
I arrive at the E.R. and meet a team of people who will stab me with more tubes and ask whether I have allergies 10 more times.

A nurse then tells me that they are going to have to take off all my clothes. Do I have a problem with that?
Me: “I have a bullet in my back. It’s not the time for modesty.”

A few minutes later I’m covered with those wash-rag-like hospital blankets.

A homicide detective comes in and asks me a few questions.

I remind him that I’m not a homicide case yet, and that it was probably stray bullet. No, I didn’t get into a fight with anyone. No, I’m not a drug dealer or shady character. It’s not my fault, I swear.

I then get put into a room, get more tubes, and explain that I don’t have allergies a few more times.

Nurse: “We can’t tell through tests whether your lung was popped. Lung deflation is the biggest concern right now… so we are just going to have you wait for four hours and see what happens! Also, pee in this cup. We need to check if you have blood in your urine…”

Dandy.

Eric and Tee waited with me. I told them that as long as I wasn’t paralyzed that I was fine.

I just hoped that I would get out of the hospital in time to walk Harley and that this wouldn’t interfere with finals.

I also said that I didn’t mind the number they did on my shirt because I would have never gotten the blood off anyway:

Throughout the night the doctor kept vacillating between taking the bullet out and leaving it inside of me.

She finally decided to leave the bullet be, so yes I’m attending Crimlaw tomorrow with a bullet lodged in my back…

The getting shot part didn’t hurt at all because the bullet lodged right under my skin. It just felt like a hard slap on the back.

What did hurt however was when the doctor put new dressings on:

Getting shot in Minneapolis.

Oh, and when the doctor rinsed the gunshot wound it was awful. That “oh my god, why?” pain. We’ll see how I do tomorrow…

Tee has two tweens at home, so she had to leave around 4 a.m. Eric stayed with me the rest of the night. We were both cranky when I was finally let out around 9am.

I felt so trashy leaving the hospital.

The doctors cut through my shirt and undershirt at the E.R., so I was only wearing my blazer and still sporting the test/scan stickers across my chest. And yes, the blazer has a bullet hole in it.

It was not one my classier moments.

The first thing I did when I got back to the apartment was take Harley on a walk. I had been gone for almost 11 hours and fully expected to find a mastiff-sized crap in the middle of my bed…but Harley was in front of the door wagging his tail. No crap in site.

Best dog ever.

I was on the phone for most of the walk. I talked to the police, the law school, family in Germany, classmates.

I’m going to pick up my books from school whenever I get up (I’ve been awake for about 29 hours)…and I should be in class tomorrow!

Just don’t pat me on the back. Thanks.

1L Spring Finals / dogs / memories / pictures

Harley & Me

April 24, 2009

Yesterday was a bit of an adventure.

After Corporations, I noticed that I had a voicemail – it was from my new landlord. He said that my credit and criminal records came back clean, and I should come down and sign the lease.

I signed the lease after Crimlaw, and then called Harley’s foster parents.¹

I bought a leash and dog food at Wal-Mart and then took the road trip up to Pease, Minnesota.

Yes. The name of the town was Pease. There was also a “Rum River” and a town called “Wellthen.” This reminded me of the town names from the Bemidji trip…

Pease is a little country.

Okay, more than a little country. Think horses, cows, dirt roads, massive trucks, pro-life billboards, antique shops, churches that look like sheds, and holes-in-shirts.

And of course I took the wrong dirt road, but two boys got off their horses (I shit you not) and pointed me in the right direction.

The animal rescue was on a huge farm.

There were large dogs (and horses) everywhere. Some dogs caged, some were chained to posts, and others roamed around freely. I got out of the car and had two pit bulls inspect me. Harley was tied in front of the house.

After greeting the two bulls, I saw a little boy getting on a dirt bike. “You guys have a lot of dogs…” I said. “Yep,” he said. “Susan’s inside.”

Susan opened the door as I walked up the house stairs. She unchained Harley and took him inside. There were kennels stacked everywhere inside the house. There was also a bored looking pit bull, and several more excitable pit bulls in cages. Susan’s (husband?) was on the couch watching “What happens in Vegas” and the un-caged pit bull sat at his feet.

After making awkward small talk with the husband, I look over and see Susan nonchalantly pulling out a BIG HONKING needle. She told the husband to hold Harley, and then stabbed Harley’s coat with the needle. “This is his whatsit shot.”

Susan then recited a long list of Harley’s recent shots and treatments – “if he starts pooping out worms that’s perfectly normal. It’s really good actually.”

Oh my goodness.

After twenty minutes I was speeding back down the dirt roads with Harley in the back seat.²

I then drove fifty miles West and visited Phillip in St. Cloud. He introduced me to his cats, housemate, and her rabbits. His housemate owns two rabbits and spins yarn out of their hair, which is just about the most random, and coolest thing ever.

The drive back to Minneapolis was about 80 miles.

We stopped in Monticello where Harley got another potty break and a chicken nugget. Once we got back to civilization Minneapolis, I walked Harley around Dinkytown, picked up a few things from the Gamma house and then drove back to my new apartment.

I planned on sleeping on a self-inflating travel bed that my mother bought for me last summer. But, of course my “convenient self-inflating bed” was not so convenient. The pump requires two huge batteries, not included.

So I spent my first night on an area rug with Harley sleeping nearby.

This morning I took Harley on his first walk in the new neighborhood.

The neighborhood is gorgeous and has an odd mix if old mansions, historic churches, and apartment buildings.

Harley is really calm, so I didn’t have to worry about him lunging at people.
He does however sort of run into me when I’m walking him, like, “Oh, sorry, I want to go to the other side of the sidewalk and I forgot you were there.”

I also need to work on fattening him up:

I’m not too thrilled about the visible ribs.

This means that reinforcing good behavior with treats is completely acceptable for at least the first month.

Although I’m still getting used to the drool (mostly after he drinks water), I think Harley was a good pick.

¹ I decided not to get Tula (the pit bull) because I felt that mom’s reaction (OH MY GOD AHH!) was indicative of the general-animus towards pits, and I wasn’t prepared to spend the next 10 years fighting that stereotype.
² One neat thing that Susan gave me was a dog-seatbelt for the car.

Law School / on the record

The ideal alumni

April 23, 2009

Professor M tells us what ideal alumni are:
Jack: “…and the CEO donated $50,000 to Stanford in return for a professor giving a talk.”
Professor M: “Exactly! $50,000 is a pretty sweet deal for a talk. These are the alumni law schools like to have. So pay attention to this case!”
Today’s case¹ involves a special litigation committee in an insider trading suit against Oracle Corporation. Oracle hired two Stanford professors to investigate Oracle executives for insider trading. The executives were Stanford alumni and huge donors to the University, and one of the professors even mentored the executive he was investigating… hm.

¹In re Oracle Corp. Derivative Litig., 824 A.2d 917 (Del. Ch. 2003)

1L Fall finals / dogs

Tula or Harley?

April 22, 2009

Barring any shenanigans, I move out this Friday.

This makes me so happy I feel like hopping around my room screaming “YES WE CAN” like Kyle’s dad.

I’ve been racking up extra hours (at work and outlining) so I can afford to take the weekend off for the move. The move shouldn’t be too bad because I don’t own any of the furniture in my fraternity room…

…which means a trip to Ikea.

The apartment is really out of my hands at the moment – the landlord is doing the obligatory criminal and credit check. And, again, barring any shenanigans (ie someone stole my identity and ruined my credit) things should be fine.

Today’s task was getting serious about finding a dog. I filled out the applications and did the follow-ups… and there are two finalists at the moment:
Tula

Harley

Tula is a pitbull. Harley is a mastiff.

There are pros and cons for each dog.

Tula pros:

Friendly
Cheaper monthly expenses (smaller dog)
High energy, but not a spaz (good running dog!)
Used to being inside
Well behaved

Tula cons:

Pitbulls have an extremely bad reputation
Mom wigged out ala, “OH MY GOD I WILL NEVER VISIT YOU IF YOU GET THAT DOG!”
Tula’s mom isn’t a 110% sure that Tula is house broken

Harley pros:

Friendly
Mastiff is my dream dog
Potty trained
Less likely to destroy furniture

Harley cons:

More expensive (monthly costs, bigger dog)
Foster parent hasn’t been as communicative with me, so I’m relying more on the advertisements for the dog.
Mastiffs SNORE…

I know what I’m getting with Tula, whereas with Harley…hm. While I don’t think it would be a disaster per se, Harley is definitely more of a wild card. Oh what ever shall I do?

Tula or Harley?

1L Spring Finals

You want a piece of me?

April 22, 2009

Professor P describes the exam:
Jack: “What makes a good exam answer? Like what are you looking for?”
Professor P: “Well, one of the questions is going to ask for a piece of you. You have to be original and creative…”
Jill: “A piece of me? Can I just attach a hair or something?”
Professor P: “Uh, I was thinking of an intellectual piece.”

1L Spring Summaries / marathon

Best Week Ever #13: Changes & Drama

April 20, 2009

The end is near! This past week was the week of changes and drama. Finals are creeping closer and so is the law review petition…

Oh and classes are still going on apparently. Most of my section has become impatient with classes. Here’s a rundown:

Crimlaw is a waste of time. Even the “nice” girl has stopped reading Crimlaw and simply outlines during class. We can tell that our professor is extremely knowledgeable, but he is a thoroughly inept teacher. Our professor is also late for almost every class. What the hey?The whole Crimlaw experience is exacerbated by Billy Scratch N’Sniff. Scratch N’Sniff (SNS) is a boy from the other section who spends the entire class period scratching his nether regions. Yes, even during the double-session we had on rape. Actually, the sex crime topic prompted an unusual amount of participation from SNS…it was bizarre. And yes, he was scratching as he opined about rape. The horror…
Corporations has really picked up. Several of my friends refused to take corporations because of Professor M’s verbal ticks¹ but the professor has really relaxed and the stuttering has almost disappeared. The class is usually amusing, with Professor M taking plenty of pot-shots at the Delaware courts. I love it.
Property is a death march. I really like the subject but the class has become tedious. Professor P has a stiff, mechanical style and is relentless when questioning students.It’s really painful to watch. When a student doesn’t know the answer to a question, Professor P simply repeats the question. Over, and over. Have you ever seen two kids do that, “Yeah-huh, nuh-uh, yeah-huh” bit? That’s how questioning feels in Property. Today’s class was especially brutal. please let it be over soon…
But there is always Civil Procedure. I have been preaching the gospel of Professor V since last semester, but most of the section hasn’t come around until this semester. Professor V is the best professor ever and has amazing powerpoints. Today’s slides started with a Yogi Berra quote. Past classes have featured Diana Ross and Anna Nicole. I love it…although we’ve spent so much time on Erie/Hanna analysis that it better be on the exam…

On Thursday I was the distraught 1L in computer services when my laptop suggested that OneNote had deleted ALL OF MY NOTES. Yeah. I was almost the kid howling “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” in the study carrels. My laptop then proceeded to do this:

Unacceptable. Everything turned out alright, but I could have done without the 20 minutes of remmidemmi…

Things in the Gamma house have deteriorated ever since the trashing. The housemates are divided into two camps. People are pissed off and it is getting hard to be civil to Slovenly Housemate.

I tried really hard to be accommodating. But I’ve had to walk over too many beer bottles, pizza boxes, and Coke Zero cans. Slovenly’s friends are also annoying people and over WAY too much.

Charity stops here. I’m pissed off.²

There is going to be a contested election for house president within the next two weeks, but I’m done. I’m moving out after finals. I refuse to live in filth.

I visited an apartment building today that I’m probably going to move into. There were two apartments for rent. The first unit was a dank place on the bottom floor that rents for $575, and the second unit was a huge place on the top floor that rents for $650 a month.

The problem is that the huge apartment is…well, huge. Like, “I entertain” huge.

I’m negotiating a lease right now. We’ll see how it goes.

The building allows dogs, which is crucial. I need a canine running partner.

I arrived for the apartment showing a bit early so I stood outside of the building while talking on the phone. While I was on the phone, a lady left the apartment building with two small dogs.

I was on the phone with Jack and mentioned that the humane society has a lot of pitbulls on its website. My main concern is that a formerly abused pitbull is going to have a flashback and rip my throat out in my sleep. EXTRA: MINNEAPOLIS LAW STUDENT MAULED TO DEATH. DUMBASS ADOPTED AN ABUSED VICIOUS DOG.

Of course potential-neighbor-lady overheard this and started writing down websites where I can find non-throat-ripping dogs. She then detailed the various substance abuse³ problems of the tenants. It looks like it’s going to be an interesting experience…

This was definitely the week of changes. In addition to the apartment hunt, I gave up Splenda and started running because I signed up for a marathon. The marathon is in October, but I’m training now. My first run was 3 miles. The next morning I was so sore that I thought “OH MY GOD I BROKE MYSELF!”

I bitched at myself for a good half hour before I went back and ran 6 miles. The 6 miles were not as painful as I expected. Running is a great people-watching opportunity. The funniest thing I saw was a gay guy walking a pair of chihuahuas.

How do I know he was gay? Well, besides the Juicy Couture sweatpants he was wearing… there was also the fact that his DOGS were sporting pink camouflage hoodies. Diva please.

I had two “Diva Please” moments at bars this week because I was mistaken for a 32 year-old TWICE.

I’m actually 22. I think it’s the beard that does it.

Ah well. Age is overrated, as Sloven Housemate has proven…

¹ Professor M used to string together “uh, uh, um, ers” … he never went over six in a row though. Yes, we counted.

² I refuse to lecture someone who is OLDER THAN ME about “how NOT to be the dirty irritating housemate.” If you haven’t learned how to respect your peers by college, then you have some deep character flaw that’s not getting fixed any time before your wife serves divorce papers on you…

³ Sounds like a UMiami dorm…

Just Sayin / the cases

God says stab?

April 17, 2009

We are covering mental insanity in Crimlaw today.
In today’s case¹ the defendant stabbed his wife in the back because she did not support his (and god’s) plan for a sports facility:
Serravo (the defendant) gave the doctor a history of having worked on a plan, inspired by his relationship to God, to establish a multi-million dollar sports complex called Purely Professionals.

This facility, according to Serravo, would enable him to achieve his goal of teaching people the path to perfection. On the night of the stabbing, Serravo, according to the history given to Doctor Seig, was excited because he finally believed that he had received some positive encouragement in his endeavor from some King Soopers union members, but he was discouraged by some inner “evil spirits” who kept raising troublesome questions about how he would deal with his wife’s lack of encouragement and support.

…the court of appeals determined that, although there was some evidence indicating that Serravo knew the stabbing of his wife was illegal and contrary to societal standards of morality, there was evidentiary support for the insanity verdict because there was expert testimony that Serravo was inspired by an insane delusion that God had decreed the act.
More of the case after the jump:

Law School / Law School – 1L / on the record

Jill on Backpacks

April 16, 2009

Today, before the start of Crimlaw:

Jack: “Are you looking at my rolly backpack?”
Jill: “Yes. And judging accordingly.”
Jack: “What? I got it for my birthday and I’m so excited about it.”
Jill: “That’s nice.”
Jack: “…I just got sick of carrying so much shit around. I had so many bags and I looked like a homeless person.”
Jill: “You can buy cute bags though. Note my big purse and briefcase. Or, you can try using your locker for books you don’t need.”
Jack: “And I just want my rolly backpack to be socially acceptable!”
Jill: “It never will be.”

Law School – 1L

Oh my

April 16, 2009

Two weeks before finals:

…all my class notes…gone?

Law School – 1L

Perfect day

April 14, 2009

Today was the perfect day.
I got up at 5am, folded laundry, and then went to the gym.

Around 7:30 I was at school and read until Civil Procedure. After Civpro I went home, made lunch, and read some mo’.

After property¹ I went drove to work and worked until 8:30ish. And of course, there was the usual sing-a-long on the way home. ²

Nothing extraordinary happened today. What made today perfect was how smoothly things went. I had the day planned out in 30 minute increments and finished everything that I wanted to do…

…there were no “WHAT? WHERE DID THE PAST X-number OF HOURS GO?” moments. And in law school, that’s an accomplishment.³ Let’s see if I can repeat this tomorrow.

¹ Which has become the longest, most tedious class ever by the way…
² Song of the night was “Zero” by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs.
³ I’ve had too many of those horrifying “I just lost 3 hours in a time warp” moments. I suspect the missing time goes to BritBrit’s rehab…

1L Spring Summaries

Best Week Ever #12: The gates open

April 12, 2009

This week started with my oral argument. The argument went well, although the practice was a bit of a hot mess.

The oral argument was the last of this semester’s “special projects” – ie , briefs, papers, statutory interpretation assignments and all of the other random that terrorize our schedules…

This week also started with an “intro to OCI” session, which was hilarious. The career counselors basically said, “OCI is going to be a disaster for 75% of you guys, but for the top quartile, it’s going to be great!”

Well, isn’t that dandy?

It feels like some sort of gate opened up this week because all the things that I’ve been kept in the dark about were finally explained.

First semester I felt like the school purposefully kept 1Ls ignorant¹ about really important things. Career services? Oh worry about that later. Employers aren’t even allowed to contact you yet – you’re worse than dead to them. OCI? Don’t worry about it. Summer jobs? Petitioning law review? Later. We’ll explain that later.

Well, this is the week that everything was explained. I now know what to expect for the next eight months and it is such a relief.

Finals are next month. Immediate after finals is a 2 week journal hazing petitioning period. This summer I’m working full time while taking Professional Responsibility and Wills & Trust.

At the start of next school year I may get to do OCI, depending on whether my grades are good enough for employers to interview me. If my grades tank, then I’ll get to start the semester without running around in a suit. Shucks.

Knowing what to expect for the rest of year is great because I can prepare accordingly. I don’t think this view is shared by some of my classmates because a lot of people are crabby at Mondale High…

In order to avoid joining the ranks of the cranky, I made a list of the five things that kept me from being stressed out during my first semester:

Going to bed early, and getting 8 hours of sleep.
Hanging out (a lot) with cool law students and non-law students.
Going to the gym.
Reading ahead during the weekends.
Studying with friends somewhere other than the law school.

After I made my list, I made sure that I did all 5 things this week. I read ahead. I bar hopping with friends. I studied at cafes. Basically, I worked hard and had fun and by the end of the week I was intolerably chipper again. I love it.

This upcoming week my diet and gym schedule is going to get an added boost because I bought a Jillian Michaels book:

And homegirl scared the crap out of me. Jansen is 110% organic now. Yes, the McDonald’s boy has gone organic. Go ahead and laugh. While you’re laughing I’ll be crushing some flax seeds…

¹ Okay, it’s very possible that I was the only one unawares…

Law School – 1L

Yes, six.

April 10, 2009

So I walk up to the Caribou counter,
Me: “May I have a large dark roast with room for cream?”
Barista: “Sure, anything else?”
Me (pulling out tumbler): “Yes, may I have a latte with six shots of espresso in the tumbler?”
Barista (gasping): “You want what?”
Me: “A latte with six shots.”
Barista: “How many?”
Me: “Six.”
Barista: “Six?”
Me: “Yes. Six. I basically want you to fill up this tumbler with espresso and put a dash of milk on top for show.”
The cashier-Barista gives me a filthy look and then puts the order in. There was another Barista who was making the drinks. The drink-maker looked at her order screen and gasped.
Drink-Barista: “He wants what?”
Cashier-Barista (calling over): “Six shots.”
Drink-Barista: “Six shots?!”
Cashier-Barista: “Yes.”
Drink-Barista: “Of espresso?”
Me: “Yes. Of espresso. Don’t judge.”
And no, I’m not crazy.

My new tumbler¹ actually keeps beverages hot. Plus, milk at my job is free.²

So the purpose of getting a 6-shot latte for the tumbler and a normal cup filled with coffee is that I can make lattes on my own without having to run back to the store throughout the night. So it’s really only like order 3 lattes over a 6 hour period… which isn’t that bad. Or so I tell myself…

¹ This is my new tumbler. My old Starbucks tumbler was horrible. It constantly spit out liquid even when “shut.” It was like coffee volcano.
² The cafeteria has those lift-the-lever dispensers.

Law School / Law School – 1L / on the record

Jack’s here.

April 10, 2009

We had another “what are the odds” moment in Corporations:

Professor M“Jimmy Smith?”
(Silence…crickets…)
Professor M“No? Not here?” Um…okay. How about Sara Johnson?”
Jill“She’s not here.”
Professor M“Wow. Well, uh. That’s odd. I mean, most of you are here… what about, Jack Thompson?”
Jack“Here.”
Professor M“Haha. Good! Well, I guess it’s bad luck for you….”

Law School / on the record / the cases

Illinois? Res Ipsa Loquitur…

April 9, 2009

Today in Corporations we covered the Conrad Black scandal.¹ Black was a media baron until his fraud conviction for bad behavior¹ as head of Hollinger International Inc. The wikipedia entry on Black is here, and a news archive is here.

During the conversation, Professor M took a pot-shot at Chicago:
Professor M: “The outside directors on this board were pretty illustrious, you have Henry Kissinger, former diplomats, and one of the board members was a former governor of Illinois…”
(Class chuckles)
Professor M: “You’re right! Illinois…that’s always a bad sign! Res Ipsa Loquitur!”

Some misdeeds after the jump.

unedited cases

Brawling and Hollering in Arkansas

April 8, 2009

There was much hollering going on in Arkansas…

Law School / on the record

Jack’s impluse

April 5, 2009

Jack might have a problem.

Jack: “I was so hopped up on Rockstar Energy drinks in Property class that I wanted to scream out ‘WEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!’ but I decided not to because people might think I’m weird.”
Jill: “Might?”

Of course Jack’s fridge is now stocked with Rockstar drinks. If he actually does burst out in class we’ll stage an intervention…

On a totally random note: apparently there is a super-awkward gallery of “Rockstar Models”. For example, look at picture 30 in that gallery. The big-honking energy drink cans weigh more than the models! Oh, and the facial expresion in picture 55….buahaha! She needs to put the energy drink down and back away…

1L Spring Summaries / blog theory / gamma eta gamma / Law School / picture of the day

Best Week Ever #10 & 11: Big Fun.

April 5, 2009

I spent the past two weeks packing my big-honking golf umbrella, printing out offensive amounts of paper in the library, and screaming along to “Big Fun” in my car.

Week #10 was a lopsided week because my Thursday-Friday class was moved to Tuesday and Wednesday. This meant that on that Wednesday I had all of my classes¹ including legal writing.

For Wednesday, we had abnormally large reading assignments for CivPro and Corporations, and of course, that was the day that spring briefs were due.

So most of the class spoke in grunts and scowled at anyone who was insufferably cheery. Grr.²

I was up most of Tuesday evening and went to bed immediately after school on Wednesday. I pretty sure I flew home. I slept for about 15 hours. It was amazing. I smile every time I think about it.

I spent Thursday, Friday, and Saturday at work, making up hours that I didn’t put in at the beginning of the week.

That weekend Stella and I went to the 90’s and watched the drag shows. Nina D’Angelo came out in a fat suit and gave a Cher performance. Stella and I were seated in the audience. Obese Cher got off the stage and sat on our laps. Yes, it was a hot mess. And yes, there’s video footage.

When Stella and I got home we saw that some of our housemates had trashed the living room and kitchen:

We were NOT amused.³ Lets forget that happened. Ugh.

Week #11 started with my first oral argument. My opponent and I had the same concept of the assignment, so there was no bloodletting or surprises. It was a fun experience, although I somehow managed to wear a blue-black suit top with my very-black slacks. This is how I get my reputation for keeping it classy…⁴

Last Monday’s oral argument was our “practice” argument. The real one is next week, and my suit will match. I promise.

This past week was somewhat unproductive because I violated the sanctity of my sleep schedule. If I miss even a few hours of sleep, I get into a zombie-like state after 5pm. Lack of sleep is a self-perpetuating thing because when I am tired I am more likely to stay up unnecessarily instead of going to bed…which means I’m tired the next day and…yeah.

I reconciled with my bed this weekend. A full 8-hours is non-negotiable for the next few weeks.

¹ 8am – Legal Writing, 9am Civpro, 11am Corps, 1:25 Crimlaw, 2:20 Property. 4pm – a comfort McFlurry then bed time.

²Crabby to put it mildly. Half of us couldn’t make eye contact with the obnoxious guy from Crimlaw. I’m surprised that no one raised their hand and ask for a gag order: “CAN WE JUST HAVE HIM NOT TALK FOR ONE CLASS PERIOD?”

³ The mess wasn’t completely cleaned up for a few days. This was the topic of much griping around the house. It was an interesting social study too. Turns out that mostly the minorities and women in the house were pissed off about it. Some of us noted that…

⁴ If that wasn’t bad enough, the suit jacket and pants had two different types of pinstripes! My room wasn’t well lit enough for me to catch the mistake before I got to school. (Yes. I literally got dressed in the dark…)It was one of those fashion mistakes that wasn’t glaring, but really irks everyone who notices it. But given how many students have no concept of appropriate formal wear, it wasn’t a big deal.

⁴ Yes, I know I just said “when I’m tired, I stay up.” That may sound stupid, but it’s true. I stay up so late because I’m vegging in front of a computer or book…