Undergrads and the Continued Demoralization of the Law Library

If God ever decided to subject the Law Library to the 10 plagues he would probably replace swarms of locusts with undergrads. Yes, not too long I was an undergrad myself. But I like to think I was at least a somewhat respectful one. These undergrads have no tact and have progressively shown less and less concern for the studious aspirations of us law students. A few common personalities have made it especially hard to concentrate and are definitely worth noting.

The Muncher - Even though the "No Food or Drink" sign is posted right next to her, this seemingly privileged girl munches away on her barbecue flavored corn nuts. They are probably the loudest food ever created. Not too mention the most caloric. I can't help but hope she has a few cavities on the way.


The Headphone Kid - Did someone bring a boom box into the library? Oh wait, its just the kid sitting next to me listening to Akon on his headphones at max volume. If it's unpleasant for me, I can't even imagine how loud it must sound to him. This kid must really be trying to escape. But I mean, who could blame him with the Muncher sitting in plain view. Still, it's a common courtesy to make sure those around you can't hear whats coming out of your headphones. But whatever, listen to your loud "rap" music all you want. In 5 years it won't be headphones in your ears.

The Attractive Girl - Oh god you are beautiful. Your leggings and ugg combo is almost too much for me to handle. Please don't sit across from me, please. For the love of..ah no..don't...you did. Now I'm definitely not getting any work done. Thanks, and uh, don't mind the staring.

The Cell Phoner - Another blatant disregard for clearly visible signs. Is the 20 foot walk to the cell phone area that much of a hassle for you? It was bad enough that I had to endure your Kenny Chesney ringtone while you decided if you wanted to talk to whoever was calling you, but come on, your actually drowning out the Akon music next to me. And please, you're in America, speak in English.

Thong Girl - Everyone knows this girl's thong is not on display by accident. It rises about 5 inches above her sweatpants that read "pink" across the butt but do not have the color pink anywhere. Her shirt is conveniently sliding up her back, freeing her love handles to hang over her thong. Thankfully, they cover most of it up, doing the job her sweatpants should have been doing in the first place. This girl is truly a plastic surgeon's wet dream.

The Discman is Still Alive!!!

Today, as I struggled to make it to class with my book filled backpack that would have given even a marine a difficult time, I spotted a majestic glimpse into my past: a kid with a discman. My first thought was to run up to him and ask how many seconds his anti-skip was. But he seemed happy...content with his choices in life...enjoying the everyday simpleness of compact discs. I envied him. I knew he had a 60 cd holder case in his backpack, ready at any moment to switch from Nirvana to any one of his other early 90's rockers.

But this change had to be a wise one...a well thought out one. This discman fellow does not live in the age of switching from Jay-Z to Pearl Jam to Miley Cyrus with the press of a button. When he makes his music choice, he has to be committed for the next 40-60 minutes to one style...one band...one album. I kinda miss that.

A Series of Unfortunate Events.....In the Bathroom Part II

Ok - time to wrap this bathroom escapade up.

I need to decide what choice to make - do I do the poop walk over to the other stall or do I get on my elbows and do the military crawl to the other stall. First things first, I slide my backpack under barrier to the other stall, just to get the ball rolling. (I really need to find a substitute word for stall. I just used it like 10 times in two sentences)

After some internal debate I decide I've gotta do the military crawl. As I start making my way to the ground I notice a wall mounted dispenser full of those toilet seat covers. HALLELUJAH! I've never used those things before (I like the all natural feel) but right now these toilet condoms are a godsend. I take out three and stuff them in my boxers, pull up my pants, and scurry to the other stall. I make it in without anyone else coming in. MISSION: accomplished.

Well, so I thought. The whole situation gave me a "nervous stomach" and required me to get right back to business. Thankfully I have two full rolls of toilet paper this time. I'm thoroughly enjoying the security of this knowledge when someone else comes in. Please don't go in the stall next to me, my original hell on earth. Of course, the guy goes right in. What I am suppose to do? I'm obligated to tell him there's no toilet paper. It wouldn't be fair for me to let him suffer the same fate as I did.

I learn over and say "Hey man, I know this is kinda..." Mid sentence, because I had leaned forward, the toilet automatically flushes (I hate that! You will flush when I'm good and ready!!) Oh man, this just got awkward.

Guy: Uhh what? are you uhh talking to me?
Me: Yea sorry. I thought I should tell you there's no toilet paper in there. I just had a very unpleasant experience.
Guy: Uhh I'm just taking a piss man.
Me: Well, somebody is insecure

Ok...I didn't actually say that last line, but it definitely popped in my head.

A Series of Unfortunate Events.....In the Bathroom

Bathroom etiquette has always fascinated me to a disturbing extreme. Ever since I was a young lad I had dreams of pursuing a highly successful and accredited career in the psychology of the bathroom. Now that I'm in law school I'm not sure that dream will ever be fulfilled...unless of course Bathroom Law becomes an accepted area to practice.

One particular day, a few weeks back, I had quite a few bathroom etiquette issues within one 30 minute time period. To make matters worse...this was my first official "extended stay" at a law school restroom.

Ready...Set...Poop!

Its 9:45 am. I just took my last bite of my bagel and cream cheese and washed it down with the remains of my 32 ounce D&D coffee. This can only mean one thing: It's not going to be long before they both return the favor.

My stomach begins the oh so familiar rumblings of an ensuing battle and I know its time to make it to the bathroom. I'm excited though. This will be the first time i get to go #2 in a law school restroom. From what i hear, they're quite comfortable. I check out the 3rd floor bathroom first. Crap, someone is at the urinal...I don't know why but im filled with self consciousness and don't want them to see me go into the stall. Actually...maybe im more worried about what they're hear after I go in the stall. I make an executive decision and move up the 4th floor, the least occupied in the building.

The decision paid off. As I open the door the motion sensor lights go on. I'm alittle surprised not to hear some robot-esque voice greeting me and welcoming me to my kingdom. At this point my stomach isn't waiting much longer but i still have a decision to make: there are two stalls in the bathroom, one of which is a regular stall and the other is one of those supersized stalls but with a handicapped seat. I never understood why those seats are so far off the ground. I guess so handicaps don't have to pull themselves up so far when they're done their business. I just like them because i can dangle my feet and sing tinkle tinkle little star while I'm sitting on my throne.


Without much hesitation, I pick the bigger stall. Buckle off..zip...sit down...ssss..plop...plop...sss..plop...uh oh...BOOOOOM SHAKALAKA! Oh my, my stubborn stomach is way too spoiled with all that starbucks i've been putting into it. Must not have been happy with D&D. This toilet could probably sue me for intentional infliction of emotional distress after the abuse I just put it through.

At least it was a quick one. Maybe I'll even have time to get some more studying in before class. I reach to start the dreaded wiping process when I'm suddenly struck with an immense amount of fear and apprehension. I've just been thrown into everyone's worst nightmare...there is literally no toilet paper. NOTHING. WHAT DO I DOOO!

After a few minutes of strategizing, interspersed with intense pleading to god, I realize I have two options. One - I can walk out of my stall into stall next to me (on my left). But there's no way I can pull up my pants without solidifying my discomfort for the rest of the day. Two - I can do a military crawl to the other stall.

Uh oh..the time in my study room is up. I guess this blog will have to be a two-parter.

Free!

Everybody loves free stuff. I mean heck, I check the free section of craigslist at least once every other week. Over the course of my first week at law school I received a ridiculous amount of free stuff. Some of it will definitely be put to use in the near future...the rest was instantly thrown into either the trash or my second favorite place to dispose of useless items: under the bed. Anyway, here's a list of the everything I received for free so far, in ascending order of usefulness.

Variety of hand bags - One, i'm not a chick. Two, i'm not gay. Yea, I'm fashionably conscious but I'm not gonna be spotted toting around a hand bag. If i do, I figure I can't hold someone liable for punching me in or around the genital area. Thanks, but no thanks. You've just added to the landfill under my bed.

Pens - I mean come on, everyone needs more pens. I snagged two. I saw someone grab a whole handful off the table...it was nice to see an opportunist at work.

School of Law t-shirt - I still haven't taken this out of the "crap i dont care about" pocket of my backpack. There's a slight possibility I will wear the shirt during daylight but more than likely it'll be used as a gym shirt or for other purposes which may or may not be appropriate to say aloud.

Breakfast - Muffins, bagels, coffee, donuts...every day during the week. What more can you ask for? Well for starters, some damn creamcheese would have been nice. Go big or go home.

Lunch at Steven Starr - This actually is happening tomorrow. My faculty mentor is taking myself and a few other students to POD, the University City Steven Starr restaurant. Bang-a-rang

School of Law Sweatshirt - Unlike the t-shirt, this will definitely get some use. Plus the fact that is says "law school" lets those acquaintances who are still in undergrad know that I did in fact graduate and am not in fact enrolled as a super senior. I definitely said fact too much in this paragraph.

Beer - Three out of the five orientation days I got to drink on the school's tab. It was a great idea on their part. Every time I started questioning my decision to attend The School of Law they conveniently had an event with free flowing alcohol. The professors encouraged us to have a "good time". Hell, they were having the best time out of anyone. Though I'm no longer questioning my desire to be at the Law School, I am questioning whether my liver will survive the three years until I graduate.

First week of Law School: What I learned

It's been an interesting week. Law school orientation is half way through and I've definitely learned some important things as my first week as a law student winds down. Here's what i consider to be the top 5 pieces of information I gained so far.

1. Backpacks: Not cool. Supposedly its all about the messenger bag. I'm not sure I can pull it off.

2. Ethics: If enough money is at stake, feel free to push the envelope. You gotta make a living somehow.

3. That guy (or that girl) - There is someone in every class who will raise their hand at every opportunity. They're called gunners. You just know they are gunning for the Student Bar Association. Best defense?...gossip about them relentlessly

4. Drink. I gotta dedicate this one to a third year (rising 3L as us law students call it)I met on Monday. He made it very clear. If it wasn't for alcohol, he wouldn't have made it as far as he had. He could have been in the top 10% of his class if he had never gone out. But this would have resulted in suicide. Instead, he went out to the bars frequently and is now in the top 30% of his class. Its refreshing to see someone with priorities.

5. Google every single case. Also advice from the 3L...after his 6th beer.

What to Wear on an Interview - Part III

I know I know...I thought this metrosexual blog series was over too. I mean it doesn't even really make sense for me to write about interviews, considering I'm going to law school and won't even be on an interview in the next three years. That's why I'm going to shift the focus from guys to gals. Its dangerous, I know, but i cant help myself after spotting the most horridly dressed woman on her way to an interview. She had those dress pants that cover pretty much the entire shoe and look like they at some point belonged to a pot smoking, bare-chested, hippy love beast. There have been a few sightings of hovering Delorians, so that could explain their untimely existence. She also had a white shirt which, although tucked in, overflowed with excess fabric.

Now how did I know she was on her way to an interview? I mean, hey, she could have been on her way to a casting call for MTV's Made: "I want to be a Continual Disappointment to My Parents". But she carried with her the one item which confirmed it was indeed an interview - the padfolio. You just know that thing was stocked to the brim with resumes that her interviewers would later be playing office basketball with. Good thing she made sure to get the most expensive paper the print shop offered. It makes those cross cubicle shots a lot easier. Anyway, the following is my amateur opinion on what a woman should wear on an interview. Please feel free to cross reference with Vogue, Cosmopolitan, or Elle.

I guess the best place to start would be the suit. If a woman's ever in doubt, she should always go with a suit. Its hard not to look good. The most important decision when it comes to the suit is, of course, pants or skirt. How ever shall this epic decision be made? Well, its quite simple actually. Unless you plan on doing cartwheels into the interview room, for the love of god wear a skirt. A skirt lets the interviewer know a woman is confident as such and self-assured in her ability to think outside the male monomaniac box. Whoa, big word. Many companies understand that women are more capable problem solvers than men (that's what my industrial psychology teacher told me at least) and will seek out those interviewees who express the most confidence in who they are.

Whats the best length of the skirt, she asks? It really should be kept between the top of the knee and four inches below it. You can definitely creep a bit longer (I know some girls have this weird issue with their calves) but it just needs to fit snug. Not tight, snug. I saw countless girls with super tight skirts come in to interview at my last co-op position. While it wasn't a horrible experience for me by any means, I never did see any of them again, much to my chagrin (Side note: I was in kinkos last night and the lone employee used the word chagrin in passing dialogue. I was impressed and promised myself I would use it at some point. Im usually not good at keeping promises, so I'm quite happy with myself right now). But back to the issue at hand. Whats even worse than a tight skirt is one that hangs loose. You know what they say...a loose skirt is a loose mind. Also, one of the girls who actually got the intern position told me she would sit in front of a mirror before leaving for an interview. This would give her an idea of what the interviewer will see or more importantly, what they wouldn't see. In terms of color, keep it simple and professional; blacks, navys, and grays are all great choices. I’m a big fan of a grey suit with a very faint plaid pattern. It gives me tingles.

And finally, when it comes to cleavage...less is more.

Im feeling pretty confident with my promise keeping abilities, so i hereby promise this will be the last entry in What to Wear on an Interview. To my first, and unfortunately probably not last, attempt at blogging fashion advice - I lay you to rest. Please do not haunt me at some point down the road as I suspect you will. And if for some reason blog heaven is the same as dog heaven, tell buck I miss him.

Yep...I talk to my blog posts.