The Law School Transplant - If you don't find me helpful, hopefully you'll find me at least mildly entertaining.

I decided about five minutes into Administrative Law that it just had to go. The professor seems nice enough. But the thought of sitting through that class three times a week for a semester makes Secured Transactions seem fun in retrospect.

Today I embarked on my mad whirlwind tour of law school classes in a frantic attempt to find a replacement that would deliver me from the boredom of executive agencies and internal review procedures.

My first experimental class was Entertainment Law. Pros: Only two credits; meets once a week; interesting and potentially useful and applicable subject matter. Cons: Brand new edition of the textbook (read: sell your firstborn child to purchase it); adjunct professor who got some not great reviews.

As an interesting aside, the professor is something like six or seven months pregnant. She assured us that she wasn’t going to let the baby come until after the class is over. Hon, I know you’re a lawyer, but you just can’t control everything.

My alternative experimental class was Real Estate Transactions. Pros: Nice, laid back professor; interesting and very practical subject matter; good textbook. Cons: Meets twice a week for 75 minutes (an eternity for my ferret-like 3L attention span); rumor has it that the class is largely self-taught; exam is closed-book.

The fact that I sprinted to the door after real estate was over like I was trying to escape a masked gunman was obviously not a good sign. So, after some vascillating and hemming and hawwing, I eventually dropped Administrative Law like the bad habit it is and picked up Entertainment Law. Hopefully this well-thought out (perhaps even over-thought out) decision won’t come back to bite me in the ass later.

And as one semester begins, last semester is still nagging us like Long Island housewife. The grade submission deadline for professors is not until tomorrow, but I’d be too naive to think that all of my grades will actually be posted by then. There are enough old codgers with tenure teaching here who can disregard guidelines and deadlines with impunity and who are not afraid of being chased through the halls by a little man in a bow tie.

Not like grades matter that much at this point, anyways. Not unless I actually want to get a job or something. Psh.

I took a rather long hiatus from blogging during Christmas break and gave myself the opportunity to do things I rarely get to do, i.e., read non-law books, spend time with my family and friends, sleep in, watch ridiculous amounts of college football, and learn to sew useful and nifty things.

And so it begins again. I’m sitting in my first class on the first day of my very last semester of law school. Thirty minutes into this class, I am already debating dropping it like a bad habit. I suppose that during registration last semester, nothing seemed as bad as Secured Transactions, and thus Administrative Law seemed like a good prospect. So far, I appear to be dead wrong on that one.

Already I have fallen back into my routine of directing about 12% of my attention to the professor and 88% of my attention to other pursuits, namely instant messaging, blogging and responding to e-mails piled up in my inbox.

I should enjoy it while it lasts. After all, graduation will be here before I know it. After the poofy hat and cape are gone, I’m faced with bar prep and then (*gasp!*) the real world, for which I am dreadfully unprepared. I guess in comparison, Administrative Law seems like a veritable picnic.

Well, yesterday was my last final. Which means I’m officially 83.3% done with law school and can relax for a couple of weeks before heading into the home stretch.

After my brain was thoroughly and completely raped for three straight hours yesterday morning, I headed wearily back to my car in the parking deck. For some reason, the book buy-back people had a booth set up. Since I didn’t want to lug my now-useless Natural Resources textbook an entire flight of stairs up to my car, I thought I’d see if it was worth it to sell it.

Me: Hi. I just want to see what your buy-back price is for this. I am not making a definite offer to sell it to you, I just want to see what you think it’s worth.

[I didn't want to have this kid screaming promissory estoppel at me when I refused to relinquish the book for pennies.]

Textbook Buy-back Asshole: That one is eleven dollars.
Me: Eleven dollars?? Are you serious? It cost a hundred and eleven dollars brand new.
TBA: Yes. Eleven dollars.
Me: I was born at night, but I wasn’t born last night.
TBA: It’s eleven dollars. Do you want to sell it?
Me, indignant: No! I’d rather carry it the rest of the way to my car than sell my dignity for eleven freakin’ dollars!

Jebus. They must think people are really desperate to get rid of their books, because I know I can sell it on Amazon for at least fifty, if not more.

Good job, textbook assholes. Just one more way to fuck students in the ass and somehow have them thank you for it.

To those of you who put up away messages such as, “WOW! I am SO GLAD I’m done with finals!” or “Done! Off to drink myself retarded and then pass out in the gutter!” or “YAY! I am done with finals so I can finally take a shower and catch up on everything I’ve TiVo’d!”: Fuck you.

I don’t want to hear about it. I don’t want to hear how joyous you are to be able to emerge from the lawbrary for the first time in two weeks.

As luck would have it (and, coincidentally, as luck would have it every damn semester), I had a final on the very first day of finals, and I have one on the very last day of finals.

So, until I am finally done and can share in the celebration, kindly keep it to yourselves.

Love,
LST

Dear Pete (I hope it’s okay if I call you Pete),

I just wanted to let you know that I thoroughly enjoyed watching your over-ranked, overrated, spoiled brat Trojans get beat by the unranked UCLA Bruins this evening. Although it does not take much at this point to distract me from studying for Secured Transactions, I consciously disregarded my academic duties in order to watch you lose. It gave vastly more pleasure than would a workable knowledge of Article 9.

Pete, you have to admit it’s been coming for a long time. The commentators have been whispering about it for some time. After so many near misses (despite a very poor strength of schedule), it was inevitable.

The fact that your team is vastly overrated is not the only reason that I hate y’all. You and your team have consistently shown not only a massive sense of entitlement, but also a shocking lack of class. Annoyingly overrated Matt Leinart, who is, notably, currently whiling away his days as a mediocre pro QB for the Arizona Cardinals, refused to give kudos to Vince Young after the Longhorns topped the Trojans in the National Championship last year. Even worse, he went so far as to suggest that he was the one deserving accolades.

Fast forward to today, Petey. In the last few minutes of the game, when it was clear you were going to lose, one of your players started hitting the UCLA ball carrier in a desperate and shameful move that should have been clearly called a personal foul. And after your stunning loss to UCLA, Coach Dorrell had to come all the way over to your sideline to shake your hand. He appeared gracious and humble. You looked disgruntled. Way to be good sportsmen.

Come play in the SEC, ACC or any other conference that doesn’t have a bunch of pussies in it, and your team might actually be revealed for what it is. Until then, I hope you wake up tomorrow with the taste of defeat still in your mouth.

Lots of love,

LST

Bar Application Fee: $300

Cashier’s Check Fee: $8

Motor Vehicle Report: $7

Fingerprinting at the Police Station: $12

Floppy Disks: $3.41

Express Mail Postage: $14.40

Having my Bar Application finally done: FUCKING PRICELESS.

Instead of learning UCC Article 9, I’ve been busy setting up shop over at Etsy this evening:

Check out my little Etsy shop. If you want to order Christmas presents, payment has to be received AND clear by December 15th in order to ship by the USPS holiday shipping deadlines.

C’mon, you know you want to.

Happy Thanksgiving, y’all!

In the spirit of the holiday, here is a non-exhaustive list of things I am thankful for:

• My family, even though some of them drive me batshit crazy
• The Boston Terrorists
• My friends, even though most of them think I have died
• Not having to join the real world yet
• Afternoon naps (with the Terrorists, of course)
• $1 draft specials
• College football
• Grande nonfat two-raw-sugar lattes
• A well-stocked bar
• A month-long break at Christmas

And here is a list of things that I do not currently have, but would be thankful for if I had them:

• A lot of money (or even sort of a lot of money)
• A plan for my life
• My sanity
• A fundamental understanding of UCC Article 9
• The ability to fall asleep at night, undrugged
• A house with a fenced-in yard for the Terrorists
• Job offer(s) that don’t suck
• Completed outlines for all my classes
• A good radar detector
• Freak repellent

The freak magnetism continues. I made a quick trip to the grocery store to get a couple of last minute things for Thanksgiving. On my way down an aisle, a guy, probably in his late 30′s or 40′s, starts talking to me.

Freaky Guy: Hey, I think I recognize you from somewhere. Did you go to W High School?
Me, obviously confused: No. I went to L High School.
Freaky Guy: That was going to be my next guess. Wasn’t there some article about you in the paper where you got arrested for beating another kid up for stealing your lunch?

[I shit you not. This is what he said. You can understand my utter speechlessness at this point.]

Me, wondering what kind of Bizarro world I’ve landed in: Ummm…
Freaky Guy: Just kidding, just kidding!

[Who the fuck says shit like this when they are "just kidding" WITH A TOTAL STRANGER?]

Freaky Guy: So you’re at Local State University now, right?

[Do I have a stalker? If I do, he is the worst stalker I've ever seen. Which might actually be a relief. I mean, if you're going to have a stalker, it's best if he's a shitty one who will end up peeping through someone else's window 70 miles away because he sucks at doing his stalker research.]

Me: No, I’m at PDSEU Law School.

[Internal Monologue: Dammit, dammit, dammit! I should know better than to leave this conversation open-ended like that.]

Freaky Guy: Oh, well if you do immigration I can get you a ton of work when you finish.
Me: I’m not. But one of my friends is.

[Internal Monologue: Shit, there I go again, not cutting the conversation off when I had a perfectly good chance.]

Freaky Guy: Well, here, why don’t you give her my number. [He finds a piece of paper.] I work with the daycare workers around here. Do you have a pen?

[A couple of points here. First, why are you giving me your number? I don't want it! Second, what does it mean to "work with" the daycare workers? Are they mild-mannered child care providers by day, hookers by night?]

Me, lying my ass off while sounding apologetically sincere: No, I’m sorry, I don’t have a pen.
Freaky Guy: Well, I’m sure I’ll see you up front at the checkout, I’ll give it to you before I leave.
Me, happy to see the light at the end of this tunnel: Okay!

At this point, I hustled away, grabbed the first thing that remotely looked like what I came to the store for, and made a beeline for the self-checkout. As I was sprinting through the automatic doors, I looked behind me to make sure Freaky Guy didn’t see my frantic and somewhat awkward escape.

Upon further reflection, I’m fairly sure that I could have avoided most of the situation had I: (a) told him I had just been released from a mental institution and was living in a halfway house; (b) screamed “RAPE!”; or (c) pretended not to speak English (or Spanish).

When am I going to learn? Apparently, not soon enough.

Law Student #1: When is Thanksgiving? Is it Thursday?
Law Student #2: I think so. At least that’s what everyone keeps saying.

Do I even need to comment on this?