Final semester

I don't really have very much to write right now, although I expect all of that to change in the next few days since school is starting. I've got some difficult classes that I may or may not be looking forward to, and am taking a vow to read ALL THE CASES.

I don't know how long that will last, particularly since I don't even have any  all of the books for my classes. I'm also going to use my planner every.single.day. This will happen folks, because I have a B-E-A-utiful planner just begging for my handwriting. I'm also going to attempt to use technology to schedule my life. Since technology hates me, however, I may be better off sticking to handwriting.

Other than that, I've got an excellent schedule, a reasonably clean house, and fun activities in the next few weeks.

And by fun, I mean soul-sucking, legal-related stuff from which I will probably not derive any pleasure.

Sixth semester= sixth circle of Hell. I'd say Dante's description of the Sixth Circle suits the last semester of law school to a tee--"a vast landscape rife with distress and wretched punishment."

Yep. That about sums it up. Distress and punishment.

How wonderfully divine.

Don'tgiveafuck

For some classes, you tab. For others, you read the footnotes. And for many, you don't do jackshit.

Or maybe that's just me.

Forgive my absence for the past few days. I started working on a cartoon outlining one of the many reasons I hate law students. And then I realized I cannot draw. Which means that my attempt at a cartoon will come soon. And I will have warned you. (So don't bitch at me when my stick-figure lady has lopsided boobs or is drawn to a physically impossible scale.)

As I was writing earlier: different classes (even those not in law school) require different things. The more you like a class, the more willing you are to do those things. In the vein of honesty, though, I'd like to clarify something regarding these so called "lovable" classes: people generally don't love classes because of the subject matter. They also don't love them because "they learned so much." Many will credit the teacher for a class being amazing. My opinion? Classes are dependent upon the people in them.

Take, for instance, one of my criminal classes. Don't get me wrong: I love criminal work. Love getting my hands dirty, learning the gory details, then figuring out the pieces to the puzzle. But this particular criminal class? I would rather gouge out my eyes while setting myself on fire and jumping off a cliff ala Denethor of LOTR than be present. The people, quite simply, make me shudder to even think of the next class period. Perhaps it isn't the people singularly, but as a whole. Or perhaps I just need a cocktail to enjoy the class a little bit more, especially if people are going to twist my words when I note certain things that are detrimental to a prosecution's case. I really think the thing that makes this class so unbearable is the fact that I would otherwise absolutely love the course if it weren't subjected to a complete lack of don'tgiveafuck from those around me. Or, you know, if they'd read the GD BOOK.

Then there's the classes in which I don'tgiveafuck. For those, I do try to read. I do not, however, attempt to answer questions. Because I understand that my don'tgiveafuck can be annoying to others. If I am forced to answer a question, I do so quickly. But since we know that no professor asks me a question (go back and read "The Plan" if you need to know more about my tactics), that doesn't happen. See? I strive to make the learning experience pleasant for those around me.

Clinic classes are also completely dependent upon those in your group. I'm lucky enough to have some great teachers for those classes. For the most part, the people in them are pretty good too....because it's hard to have a case of don'tgiveafuck when people's futures are literally in your hands. I can honestly say, however, if I ask a question to a peer hoping for a real answer while in said clinic, the answer "I don't know" while not looking up from their texting does piss me off. Particularly when they do know but don'tgiveafuck enough to take two seconds to simply process my answer and respond intelligently.

I hope don'tgiveafuck ain't catching.

Because I hear 3Ls are particularly susceptible to this condition......

Why law students gain weight....

Yeah, you can click it to make it larger..........

Justice is served?

I’ve been following the Casey Anthony trial off and on throughout the past six weeks—not with the ardent fervor that many have dedicated to the process, but definitely with an interested eye and, at times, a disbelieving ear. My semi-inattentiveness is largely in part due to the fact that I don’t have the time to dedicate watching such a senseless tragedy play out in the court of law, and partly due to the blundering antics of the main defense lawyer, Baez. And now, the verdict is in: Casey Anthony is not guilty of first degree felony murder.

Can’t say I didn’t see that one coming, folks, and it centers around three little words: (1) BURDEN (2) OF (3) PROOF. Yes, I am in law school. Yes, I do intend to one day make criminal law my calling. And yes, I think there is a good chance Casey Anthony killed her daughter. I say that not to assert that I am (a) smarter than you or (b) somehow more intuitive than you. However, for those that aren’t in law school (and even for some of those who are, or who are practicing attorneys), the general consensus is that the jury got it wrong.

A jury, made of TWELVE civilians, who sat through six weeks of grueling, time-consuming testimony, admissions of evidence, and fuckups by Baez, somehow managed to get it wrong? No, they did not. They got it right, despite overwhelming odds that they would convict her through preconceived notions of her guilt. If anything, I’m shocked they were able to get over these notions, as Ms. Anthony had already been convicted by public opinion. I’m shocked they actually managed to serve honorably and fulfill their obligations as jurors as they had been instructed to do. I’m shocked they chose their duty over their emotions. I’m shocked they managed to walk away with the message regarding burden of proof despite Baez’s repeated attempts to mangle this case.

In short, I’m shocked our legal system actually worked as it was supposed to do. And pissed that others would question our legal system and jurors over the outcome of a trial that played out exactly as it should. To convict someone of first degree murder, prosecution was charged with showing intent, deliberation, and premeditation BEYOND A REASONABLE DOUBT. Oh yeah, showing a cause of death constituting murder would also help. They sought to introduce intent by showing how Casey wanted to lead the life of a single woman. They showed searches of “neck-breaking” and “chloroform” on Casey’s computer to show premeditation. Same can be said for deliberation. However, what the prosecution failed to do was show how Caylee died. They introduced pictures of Casey Anthony partying to heighten the jury’s negative opinion of her. They showed duct tape on her skull. Unfortunately, the body was too badly composed to show a cause of death.

And because of that, Casey Anthony walked. Casey Anthony certainly deserves no mother of the year award. But, at the same time, the state of Florida was REQUIRED to show beyond a reasonable doubt that Caylee was murdered, and that Casey Anthony was to blame. The state of Florida, and ANY state in America, is REQUIRED to do so in a case that will take away your liberty for the rest of your life, and possibly end your life. The reason I’m okay with this? If I were arrested tomorrow for something I did NOT do, I would hope that regardless of how much the media portrayed me to be a monster, regardless of how much citizens wanted to hate me, and how heinous the crime I was accused of committing was, that I would receive a trial in which the prosecution had to show beyond a reasonable doubt that I was responsible for said crime.

We lock up prisoners each year who are not guilty of the crimes for which they were convicted. Because juries did not adequately weigh the seriousness of their duties, because they wanted to get home to their families, or because they didn’t like the defendant’s face. The jury got it right this time.

Even though I still don’t like Casey Anthony’s face.

Welcome to my life (or: how even oldies are NOT always goldies)

Tonight, I had to prepare some paperwork for an important deadline. This paperwork HAS TO BE IN TOMORROW (with a postmark and everything). It's kinda a BFD. Accordingly, I waited until the last damn minute to do it (procrastination at its finest, y'all). So when I finally decided to get down to it, I realized oh shit....I'm not sure what kind of technology I'll be using (I generally use my own, but since I needed a printer, I'd have to borrow the whole kit and kaboodle). Not a big deal, right? HA.

So I went downstairs, and was greeted by this guy:

While this seems relatively harmless and docile, it's actually a RELIC. Many computers nowadays consist of something like this--except the entirety of the computer is actually contained WITHIN this component, instead of just serving as the screen (which went obsolete about, oh say, ten years ago). Monitors you can deal with, however. I was relieved to turn to the side and see this:

Don't let the windows sticker or USB drives fool you like they did me, though. Those are just for show. In actuality, this computer does NOT have Microsoft Word (or Works, or even Open Office, for those of us too cheap to purchase the real deal). And those USB drives? THEY.DON'T.WORK. I only figured this out, though, after repeatedly trying to access the internet. I might as well have been trying to teach a monkey the theory of relativity (and I would have probably had more success with the monkey). After spending over 45 minutes trying to enter my email and look at my documents in Word while online, I finally gave up and looked for my external hard drive. That's how I found out the awesome window dressings on the front of the tower were just for show. Way to go, HP guys! What a great trick you played on me! (If I could, I would hunt you down and bludgeon you to death. Just so you know.) So after I finally found a USB jack I could effectively plug my external into, I made the mistake of peeking at the printer.

Yep, folks. THAT'S THE ICING ON MY CAKE. Welcome to 1992. After gritting and gnashing my teeth, pulling out some of my hair, cursing every person to ever work at HP (and their nearest blood relatives), and threatening to end.that.tower....I was greeted by the slowest printer ON EARTH.

Seven pages.

Thirty minutes.

And another crack in my sanity.

Pretty sure technology isn't the only thing that hates me.

For this bountiful semester, I thank you, baby Lord Jesus....

I think finals should be celebrated much like Thanksgiving....with praise to the dear baby Lord Jesus, many thanks, and reflection regarding the reasons you should be happy with your life. So, without further contemplation, here are my reflections upon the school semester (on the subject of lessons learned, things I am thankful for, and things I would probably do differently):

1) You are not always in control of your grade. Especially in classes that require you to demonstrate a skill and rely on another person's reactions, performance, and unforeseen obstacles....sometimes that A is just not in the cards. (Or that B....)

2) I would not hire most law students to be my lawyer....I'm not talking now. I am talking about five years down the road when we are established and certified to practice law. In five years, I would not want 90% of these people to be my lawyer. I understand waiting until the last minute for something that impacts your life, but not waiting until the last minute for a huge case that impacts another person's life. Another big reason: these people do not give a shit about anyone except themselves. Selfish lawyers and potential lawyers....do us all a favor. Jump off a bridge (or move to Cambodia and live under one).

3) I will not take another class that is not required just because it may be helpful on the bar exam. I do not do as well in these classes, I don't listen as hard as I should during the year, and I almost certainly end up having to teach myself the subject last minute. Which I would have done anyway before the bar....and certainly closer to the bar. Not making this mistake again. (Read: if you are not interested in this subject and not self-motivated enough to keep up with it through the year....it.is.not.worth.it.)

4) Sometimes, maybe you should consider planning your schedule around your final exams. Back to back final exams in difficult classes are NOT fun. They are even less fun when they are both at 8:30 in the morning. Tests on the same day=spontaneous combustion. Yeah....I need to start looking at final exam schedules.

5) I should dwell on the questions I got wrong a whole lot less. Worrying is not going to make it better. Obsessing is not going to somehow change my answer for me. Comparing notes will only serve to frustrate me. It's probably best I walk away from the exam and drink myself into oblivion, so I black out and cannot remember not only how I got in my bathtub, but even the subject I was tested on.

6) I'm thankful I go to classes. It makes it a lot easier to study when I actually decide to buckle down and do so.

7) I'm thankful I have teachers that write the books from which they teach. It makes it easier to know what they *may* want on their exams, although this is not a guarantee. If nothing else, it helps you when going through an E&E that says something different, because, HEY, in their book, they say _____________.

8) Maxine and Leonidis will never get law school finals. While this is frustrating, I'm also thankful for it, because this means they can empathize and not try to one-up me with a similar law school horror story. I'm also thankful because it means that they've not ever had to deal with the gut-wrenching terribleness of a LSF...which I (mostly) wouldn't wish upon my worst enemy.

9) Drinking is not an adequate way to deal with LSFs. I mean this. I like alcohol as much as the next gal. But I liked this one phrase that came out of the movie "How Do You Know?" (an otherwise completely useless bullshit movie that I do NOT recommend you seeing) where Reese repeats her father's mantra: "Don't drink to feel better. Drink to feel EVEN BETTER." I like this. I drink in celebration. However, I will maintain my earlier option that if you are simply drinking to forget, then that doesn't count.... ;)

10) I'm thankful for post-finals celebratory sushi. Sushi tastes even sweeter when you are eating it after endless days of micromeals, black coffee, and power bars. No really...it does.

What are YOU thankful for/reflective about/reluctant to do again?

I hate you, technology

I am the girl whose laptop shorted out during the middle of an evidence exam. No, I did not trample anyone or cry out like a raging wildebeest, but it was close. That's not nearly as bad as the story I heard today about a professor's laptop quitting in.the.middle.of.the.BAR.EXAM!!!!!!!!!

I have a love-hate relationship with technology; that is, I love technology and it indubitably hates me. I have been dropped from my insurance plan due to the three telephones I have gone through within the past eight months. All probably my fault, although certainly not intentional. I wouldn't INTENTIONALLY throw my Droid into a toilet. I didn't intentionally place my cell phone on the trunk of my car and crush it to bits. And I certainly didn't mean to crack the screen on my latest phone when I dropped it to the pavement (again, on accident).

My computer now is literally two years old (which is still, like, 60 in computer years, but I digress). It has, however, had problems since the beginning. It began with all of my picture files corrupting. It wouldn't let me run a chkdsk, and when I finally wiped it clean and started over, I though it would be the end of the troubles.

Today, however, I received bad news. My laptop's hard drive has the equivalent of cancer. This means that it is slowly dying...although it could decide to hurry up the process at any given, arbitrary time. Since my parents are tired of my love-hate relationship with cell phones (and their money--again, I love their money; they hate giving it me), they automatically told me there is no way on God's green earth that I am getting a new computer.

My parents have had the same computer for EIGHT YEARS and the desktop is completely filled with icons because they don't understand the use or meaning of a folder. They also think all computer problems are solved by unplugging it from a wall while it's still running. No sympathy there.

So today, my computer had a biopsy. I took it to the school's computer guy (who has mad skillz btw), who told me the news with a somber face and a very good bedside manner. He told me that my hard drive is very sick. He said nothing can be done to save it. He also congratulated me on my slight case of OCD backup mania, and recommended a hard drive I go out and buy. When I mentioned the possibility of the hard drive rising from the grave like Lazarus, the expression on his face told me that Jesus himself could not heal the shitty hand my poor piece of technology has been dealt. 

I sucked it up and ordered my new hard drive. I seriously doubt it will be here before finals start. When they do start, he will be unable to replace my cancer-ridden hard drive until after I am finished because of the damn testing software regulations.

I won't even go into that one time I accidentally left a magnet on the TV and my dad whooped my ass because it ruined the color scheme.