The half-truths, omissions, and outright lies about floating through law school.

The New Year is Here!

Friday, December 31, 2004

"Before I got into porn, I didn't get to fuck beautiful women in the ass. It just didn't happen."-Brandon Wood, Male porn actor.

In case you are unfamiliar with the genre, Mr. Wood (nee something else I would imagine) makes his living doing just that. For him, it happened! My aspirations are slightly different and besides, its not THAT kind of blog. I may not know exactly what the professional equivalent of filmed sodomy is for me but who knows: it may be something just as exciting. Like oh, I don't know, negotiating a big settlement, saving a company, telling an adversary that I will see him/her [who are we kidding, him] in court, something dramatic along those lines. It just isn't happening now but it still may. Of course having worked in a big firm I may just have to find my inner happiness from wearing a Patek Philippe.

Every Dream Has a Price

Thursday, December 30, 2004

Bud Fox: How much is enough?
Gordon Gekko: It's not a question of enough, pal. It's a zero sum game, somebody wins, somebody loses. Money itself isn't lost or made, it's simply transferred from one perception to another.

A lot of my AnonymousFriends like to sit around shoot the shit and discuss how they don't want to be the lawyer being told what to do, they want to be the decision-maker, calling the shots, captaining the ship, raping and pillaging or whatever it is they think that CEOs or business owners or whathaveyou do. These are of course my LawAnonymousFriends, who are tolerable up to a point but due to geographic convinience I must endure their delusions of grandeur.

Of course they never think about the downside. For every winner, there is a loser. That's just how business works. For every Warren Buffett there are a lot of guys in middle management who tried being Warren Buffett and lost the farm. For every Michael Dell there are plenty of similarly amibitious college drop outs who are living in trailers hoping one of their six children develops a fastball so they don't have to work at a Wal-Mart late in life. For every Sumner Redstone there are dozens, hundreds, thousands [he's been at it a long time at age 85] who got fired somewhere along the way to he could be Sumner Redstone, 85 year old billionaire. For every success story there is a fucker somewhere who is not sleeping very well because he owes people a lot of money and knows will never pay it back.

So everyone wants to be Gordon Gekko and no one thinks they are going to be the guy who gets fired when Gordon Gekko comes roaring to the gates of their company. Some of us know what we are good at. I am never going to be Gordon Gekko but I am not going to be chewed up and spat out. Of course should I have male offspring, they are learning to throw a fastball left-handed. Because hey, you never know.

Ah, the old Undergrad: Part 1

Wednesday, December 29, 2004

A while ago I had conducted an evaluative interview for admission to the Anonymous alma mater. My first interviewee was a very impressive young woman. Definitely more so than when I was when I was applying. All kinds of very well-researched and astute questions about what the experience was like, residential life, career services, the alumni connections, blah blah blah. I really tried to make it as clear as possible that her experience would be exactly the same whether she ended up where I did, any other similarly situated school, or even if she turned out to be less impressive than I thought, at a place like Tufts. Shudder.

What I really wanted to say was: you look like the kind of girl who will probably do too much coke, develop an eating disorder, date a few guys from Westport with flowing golden locks of hair sticking out from underneath their A&F hats, by date I mean screw, go on great Spring Break trips followed by worried visits to the doctor, not take anything too seriously, go to bed late and wake up non too early, drink till you puke, hit the gym at least four times a week, then graduate with a degree in Art History/English/Psychology to find yourself living in Murray Hill and working in publishing/media/advertising living on a shit salary but not really because the parents will take care of their little girl.

It was more of a warning when it started but shit, it was sounding pretty good considering that I had finals coming up. She was talking about her community involvement or art award or hatred of the Taliban or something but all I could think about was filling an SUV with AnonymousCollegeFriends, slapping on that A&F hat and drivin' to school.

I should have drunk more champagne.

I am in Law School Yet I hate Law

Tuesday, December 28, 2004

I hate people who are in school with me who say things like "Oh I would never be a lawyer" and "I can't believe people want to be lawyers!" Guess what, you're in a professional school that, last time that I checked, was centered around the study of law. Take our friend the "real" AL for example. After three years of HLS he, apparently, wants to be a Hollywood writer or something dignified like that. Billing hours is distasteful and not-so-young Jeremy has decided to go West and "find himself." That is after a $150,000 in eeducation and at least in much in foregone wages. I guess my question is: what the fuck are you thinking? Why not just go find yourself after college, why not just jump out there and become whatever it is you were going to become? The problem of course is, that in our increasingly sensitive society the time for one to "find himself" is increasingly pushed back. Used to be 18--23 or so was good enough: goof off for a couple of years in college, find something you are at least interested in and run along to it. But no more.

Now there is the "professional student": a money-draining pest on family, higher education lenders, and society that gets degrees "just in case" and quite frankly will not do much with themselves. And for whatever reason, law school draws the brunt of these lost souls. Graduated with a liberal arts degree and don't want to take your lumps starting at the bottom? Come to law school. Flamed out in your first career but are unwilling to acknowledge it? Come to law school. Interested in "policywork" or perhaps "something creative"? Come to law school. You can start a never has been and never will be club. The school is very generous with funding when the tuition alone is north of $30,000 a year.

How it all got started

Monday, December 27, 2004

I was a confused bright-eyed undergrad, anxious and willing to do just about anything to erase the indebtedness of having attended an Ivy League institution. Much like many of you I stumbled onto "Law School," combining a certain quiet dignity with the possibility of yet more debt followed, of course by the large cash pay-off and self-fulfillment of going to work in an expensive suit. My real introdution to the process was at an informational meeting held by an Admissions Director of a top-14 law school that seemed a whole lot more impressive to a college junior than to a second year law student at slightly better school. He seemed like a nice enough guy, complete with a charming southern drawl. I didn't know anything about law school or the law so there I was in the back, munching on a turkey club sandwich. He went through his routine [legal market good, his law school grrrrreat!] and finished. Some people ran up for questions and while I had absolutely nothing to say to this man, why the fuck not? So there I am in front of Earl or whatever his name was and I inquired about my lack of any and all extracurricular activities. You see my academic performance was satisfactory enough but my involvement in the "interpersonal learning" that our admissions brochures so heavily promoted consisted of binge drinking and the occasional drunken self-inflicted injury. Earl looked at me and in a very somber monotone informed that his institution selected only the finest of the finest of the finest of the 6,000+ applicants that they had recieved and that only those who had exemplified the most outstanding of human traits would be rescued from the reject pile. Exhibiting moral virtue, communal involvement, oustanding citizenship was an absolute neccessity to be gained the "ticket" as he lovingly referred to it. I got home and after two days of heavy drinking [this event was, I believe on a Thursday, and thus to be immediately followed by libations] reflected on what happened. Perhaps this study of law and suit-wearing respectability was not for me. Fortunately Earl was lying through this teeth and all that his, and every other school cared about was an index of G.P.A. and a four-hour standardized test. Less than a year later I had a signed acceptance from Earl in a fat envelope of brochures promoting the school's selection of only the best, brightest, and the most virtious but by then I was smart enough not to want anything to do with him. The elbow-patched jacket did not help.

Hello, friend[s]

So the AnonymousLawyer turned out to be a hoax. Well, "turned out" is pretty dramatic because frankly some of his turnout was so over-the-top that, well it didn't leave a whole lot to being in touch with reality. So why not stories from a real law student and not a law student pretending to be a lawyer. And if you don't like it, there is always something on the old T.V.

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