I haven't posted in a while; finals are SUCH fun. But I had the fortune to talk to an intern with the Washington Center program, and while he gave me advice I was able to return the favor. Since I haven't posted here forever--and I bothered to give some thought to the subject--I am going to share with you what I told him.
His first question was whether it was a good idea to go full speed ahead to law school to find out if you'll like it, or soul search first and then enroll. And below is my answer.
* * *
I think it is MUCH better to take time off and determine whether you want to be a lawyer before enrolling in a law school. The life is not for everyone. I hear so many of my classmates say they wish they could return their degree and get their money and time back. I personally love it, and think it is a great career field for me. So it is a GREAT plan to soul search first--get a job in a field you are interested in, try it out. Join the peace corps and read a legal blog or four. Believe it or not, the delay will make you a much more competitive law student. Admissions offices look for students with life experience as well as good grades and scores. That job may just set you apart from the pack.
HOWEVER, if you've enrolled with or without that step, and after a semester you realize that this is not the stuff for you, GET OUT. Sure, it's a slight waste of money, but it is better than the waste of your life (not to mention the five other semesters worth of tuition and living expenses) in a career you hate and may eventually abandon. If your parents will front all of your tuition, or you have a full scholarship, you can recalculate--a law degree is useful in many ways that aren't readily apparent. You can be an Economic Development director, work in academia, do corporate compliance or managerial work, etc--so you really have to do that calculus yourself. But it is a grueling, rigorous experience, and without a level of certitude it can be a bit unbearable. Better to save those years of your life. Don't "throw good money after bad" than to go to law school if you don't really want that JD at the end.
Friday, December 12, 2008
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
An interesting trend...
You can study for law courses in many ways: practice tests, flash cards, case summaries, etc. One way that is a staple for law students all over is outlining--compiling all of a class into a skeleton of the subject. A good outline serves to help a student digest and process all of the material they've encountered over the semester while they make it, and be a comprehensive guide once they've completed it.
They are essential; everyone writes them.
Except me.
Don't get me wrong, I probably should. I'd probably go from A's and B's to straight A's--getting a high A every once in a while just for show. And I've started a few fantastic outlines that have languished after a few weeks. But it's just not the way I operate.
In cooking, when I decide I want to make something I've never made before, I do not find a recipe I trust. I find about 4 recipes that look similar, maybe jot down a list of the common ingredients and possibly a creative ingredient that particularly intrigues me, and get a handle on the approximate ratios proffered. Then I get to work on creating my interpretation of the thing. The result is always a bit of a surprise, but I think it's also always pretty darn good.
That's how I deal with outlining. I gather together about 3 or 4 outlines (that's plenty, as the outlines typically range from 25-50 pages) and I select the parts from each that seem particularly important. I look for commonalities and disparities. And I compare them with my class notes. Then, I do the only kind of prep that REALLY helps me--I sit down and take an old exam.
That's just the kind of person I am. I hear about something interesting, I consult a few sources for different takes on the subject, and then I just do it. I don't worry about results, I don't put time pressure on myself, I just wait to see what I can come up with.
All the refinement can come later, once I really understand.
They are essential; everyone writes them.
Except me.
Don't get me wrong, I probably should. I'd probably go from A's and B's to straight A's--getting a high A every once in a while just for show. And I've started a few fantastic outlines that have languished after a few weeks. But it's just not the way I operate.
In cooking, when I decide I want to make something I've never made before, I do not find a recipe I trust. I find about 4 recipes that look similar, maybe jot down a list of the common ingredients and possibly a creative ingredient that particularly intrigues me, and get a handle on the approximate ratios proffered. Then I get to work on creating my interpretation of the thing. The result is always a bit of a surprise, but I think it's also always pretty darn good.
That's how I deal with outlining. I gather together about 3 or 4 outlines (that's plenty, as the outlines typically range from 25-50 pages) and I select the parts from each that seem particularly important. I look for commonalities and disparities. And I compare them with my class notes. Then, I do the only kind of prep that REALLY helps me--I sit down and take an old exam.
That's just the kind of person I am. I hear about something interesting, I consult a few sources for different takes on the subject, and then I just do it. I don't worry about results, I don't put time pressure on myself, I just wait to see what I can come up with.
All the refinement can come later, once I really understand.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
GO USA!
A brief update:
I was just notified that I will indeed be an extern this fall for the United States Attorney for the Northern District of Ohio, Criminal Division. That means twice a week I'll be spending my days at the snazzy Carl B. Stokes Federal Courthouse.
Wish me luck! What an exciting adventure!
Tardy
I'm unforgivably late with this blog entry, but I have been very busy. I was in a two-week intensive Trial Advocacy class that kept me frantic--I had to get the same amount of work done at my job, and somehow also fit in the five hours of class each night too. The course culminated by conducting a simulated trial in front of a real judge (Judge Dick Ambrose) in the Justice Center.
While it did make for the longest two weeks of my life, I learned a LOT. And I got really pumped for my potential externship with the US Attorney's office.
I also started the application process for summer internships with the Department of Justice for next summer, and applied for a few interviews with our on-campus interview program.
OCI functions by allowing each student 20 bids for employers. Then the employers choose from those students who have bid for the spots to grant interviews. We'll see how it goes.
Finally, I meant to participate in the summer writing competition for our Law Review/Journal of Law and Health. Unfortunately, I was unable to do so. I just didn't have the time; between my recent move and the two classes I took this summer, it was not feasible. I did finish the citation quiz early on, but never was able to sit down and write the case comment. This may end up the one thing I regret about law school, as I believe wholeheartedly in at least TRYING to open doors and then deciding which to walk through. Law Review/Journal is a huge thing for employers, and I do believe that I'm a strong enough writer that, had I competed, I might have been offered a spot.
While it did make for the longest two weeks of my life, I learned a LOT. And I got really pumped for my potential externship with the US Attorney's office.
I also started the application process for summer internships with the Department of Justice for next summer, and applied for a few interviews with our on-campus interview program.
OCI functions by allowing each student 20 bids for employers. Then the employers choose from those students who have bid for the spots to grant interviews. We'll see how it goes.
Finally, I meant to participate in the summer writing competition for our Law Review/Journal of Law and Health. Unfortunately, I was unable to do so. I just didn't have the time; between my recent move and the two classes I took this summer, it was not feasible. I did finish the citation quiz early on, but never was able to sit down and write the case comment. This may end up the one thing I regret about law school, as I believe wholeheartedly in at least TRYING to open doors and then deciding which to walk through. Law Review/Journal is a huge thing for employers, and I do believe that I'm a strong enough writer that, had I competed, I might have been offered a spot.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
glorious summer!
I'm really back!
Florida was glorious, but as is wont to happen once you start riding the legal roller coaster, I had work to complete while lounging on a balcony scattered with little lizards. Margarita in hand, sunscreen and string bikini on, and a clear view of the St. Lucie River lapping at it's banks; I set out to provide an overview of how the Courts of Appeals in the eleven federal districts have treated a landmark case for federal civil procedure.
I have really gotten into the right profession.
* * *
Now is a good time to tell you a bit about my second job; the job that had me incarcerated on a balcony for a full day in paradise.
I am a research assistant for a professor renowned in the areas of constitutional law and civil procedure. My boss has also held key leadership roles at my law school. Though I am averse to mentioning names in this blog, rest assured that it is an amazing honor to be working for this particular lawyer and scholar. When discussing the results of any of my assignments, I am often astonished how quickly his mind wraps around a tiny fact I mention and immediately pinpoints several ways it may have far reaching implications. I know he has years and years of experience, and that in many ways accounts for his quickness in isolating details that are seemingly insignificant but have a huge impact in litigation, but his genius is obvious in his speed. I can only hope that someday, after years of practice, I may too be that impressive to a young associate!
We meet infrequently; about once a month or so for about twenty minutes. Other feedback and more narrow instructions are submitted via email. He's easy to get in touch with and gives clear instructions. His deadlines are normally soft, but in this case we are coming up on his publishing deadline--hence the tropical work session.
My tasks thus far have been of steadily increasing complexity. At first, it was basically Shepardizing cases (Shepardizing=looking for cases that are overturned, affirmed, etc) to find mention of a particular new precedent. Then he asked me to make observations of those cases, isolating any trends or key differences in interpretation. In this way he will have the condensed facts and basic trends gathered when he updates his treatise.
* * *
It's fun being a part of legal scholarship and treatise work. Not only am I assisting in the creation of something significant and lasting, but it is also thrilling to see into the mind of the people who compose the casebooks and nutshells we spend months of our lives pouring through.
Well, thrilling for a law student at least. After our 1L year, I'm not sure if our interests remain consistent with those of the general population.
Florida was glorious, but as is wont to happen once you start riding the legal roller coaster, I had work to complete while lounging on a balcony scattered with little lizards. Margarita in hand, sunscreen and string bikini on, and a clear view of the St. Lucie River lapping at it's banks; I set out to provide an overview of how the Courts of Appeals in the eleven federal districts have treated a landmark case for federal civil procedure.
I have really gotten into the right profession.
* * *
Now is a good time to tell you a bit about my second job; the job that had me incarcerated on a balcony for a full day in paradise.
I am a research assistant for a professor renowned in the areas of constitutional law and civil procedure. My boss has also held key leadership roles at my law school. Though I am averse to mentioning names in this blog, rest assured that it is an amazing honor to be working for this particular lawyer and scholar. When discussing the results of any of my assignments, I am often astonished how quickly his mind wraps around a tiny fact I mention and immediately pinpoints several ways it may have far reaching implications. I know he has years and years of experience, and that in many ways accounts for his quickness in isolating details that are seemingly insignificant but have a huge impact in litigation, but his genius is obvious in his speed. I can only hope that someday, after years of practice, I may too be that impressive to a young associate!
We meet infrequently; about once a month or so for about twenty minutes. Other feedback and more narrow instructions are submitted via email. He's easy to get in touch with and gives clear instructions. His deadlines are normally soft, but in this case we are coming up on his publishing deadline--hence the tropical work session.
My tasks thus far have been of steadily increasing complexity. At first, it was basically Shepardizing cases (Shepardizing=looking for cases that are overturned, affirmed, etc) to find mention of a particular new precedent. Then he asked me to make observations of those cases, isolating any trends or key differences in interpretation. In this way he will have the condensed facts and basic trends gathered when he updates his treatise.
* * *
It's fun being a part of legal scholarship and treatise work. Not only am I assisting in the creation of something significant and lasting, but it is also thrilling to see into the mind of the people who compose the casebooks and nutshells we spend months of our lives pouring through.
Well, thrilling for a law student at least. After our 1L year, I'm not sure if our interests remain consistent with those of the general population.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Hiatus...
I am sorry about the delay in posting! I hereby promise to post at least once a week from now on. I just returned from a lovely and refreshing trip to Florida, and the sun and waves were just the therapy a summer student needed.
I'm taking First Amendment this summer, and then a short intensive Trial Advocacy course. How exciting!
I'm taking First Amendment this summer, and then a short intensive Trial Advocacy course. How exciting!
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
The Nitty-Gritty
Up until now, I've been painting sweeping strokes of law school life. Today I'm going to get uncomfortably close to the minutiae.
I'll start with an overview. My esteemed educational institution has two moot court programs. One is large and well recognized; there is a well-governed format for membership that must comply with bylaws as enforced by the Moot Court Board of Governors. That Board is headed by three student Chairs of the Board, and they are guided by a faculty adviser. They have a large group of participants who are sent to various nationwide competitions. The Philip C. Jessup International Law Moot Court is a separate team, and much smaller. Rather than having more than one moot court team, the Jessup team is limited to 5 students and an adjunct adviser. It also focuses exclusively on international law. At my school, the larger program is considered an academic team; whereas the Jessup program is viewed as a club.
But wait just a minute; you say: what is a moot court?
If you want the complex answer, visit the hyperlink. The simple answer: oral arguments about an invented case. It's a competition for law students to hone their skills in advocacy.
* * *
Last year, I participated in the Jessup team. It was amazing. I absolutely loved it, and would love to do it again. We competed at George Washington University in downtown Washington D.C., and we beat numerous teams that included some of the Ivy League. We made it as far as the semi-finals, where the #1 team knocked us out. The school down the road eventually took home the world championship in the arguments, but we were still thrilled to have gotten that far.
I think the qualities that really made our team excellent, despite perhaps not being a team of inherently brilliant advocates naturally, was our teachability and dedication. We were all there for pretty much every one of our numerous practices; we listened to criticisms of our styles, our presence, and our knowledge. We spent days honing our work. We took nothing for granted, and we had many guest judges that all pointed out different ways we could improve. By the time we'd met our matches in competition, we were so solidly prepared and unshakable that NOT making the semifinals would have been a surprise to me.
We were thrilled.
* * *
Unfortunately, despite the rigorous academic grind the team involves, a student can only get academic credit for participation once. Thus, at the encouragement of a professor I am close with, I am trying out for the larger, school-touted team which has no such limitation. Recall that I said TRYING OUT only.
The tryouts alone for these teams are exhausting. The written component involves composing an appellate brief, which requires researching and synthesizing the law on at least two issues. The oral argument tryouts, the second stage, are available only to those who submitted a good brief. Those arguments involve a weeks worth of after-work practices that are judged; and plenty of integration of judges comments and new research. It is basically a mini-competition in and of itself.
When my peer mentor told me last year that he thought the tryout process itself was an extremely good learning experience, I thought he was saying that to console himself for an unsuccessful run. I now know that what he went through simply trying out for the team was probably about a quarter of the work I had to do all semester once I had made it ON to the Jessup team. Once again, he was correct.
I sure hope I make this team; it's been quite an investment of time, and it's completely dominated the weeklong break I had before the summer session of classes begins.
I'll start with an overview. My esteemed educational institution has two moot court programs. One is large and well recognized; there is a well-governed format for membership that must comply with bylaws as enforced by the Moot Court Board of Governors. That Board is headed by three student Chairs of the Board, and they are guided by a faculty adviser. They have a large group of participants who are sent to various nationwide competitions. The Philip C. Jessup International Law Moot Court is a separate team, and much smaller. Rather than having more than one moot court team, the Jessup team is limited to 5 students and an adjunct adviser. It also focuses exclusively on international law. At my school, the larger program is considered an academic team; whereas the Jessup program is viewed as a club.
But wait just a minute; you say: what is a moot court?
If you want the complex answer, visit the hyperlink. The simple answer: oral arguments about an invented case. It's a competition for law students to hone their skills in advocacy.
* * *
Last year, I participated in the Jessup team. It was amazing. I absolutely loved it, and would love to do it again. We competed at George Washington University in downtown Washington D.C., and we beat numerous teams that included some of the Ivy League. We made it as far as the semi-finals, where the #1 team knocked us out. The school down the road eventually took home the world championship in the arguments, but we were still thrilled to have gotten that far.
I think the qualities that really made our team excellent, despite perhaps not being a team of inherently brilliant advocates naturally, was our teachability and dedication. We were all there for pretty much every one of our numerous practices; we listened to criticisms of our styles, our presence, and our knowledge. We spent days honing our work. We took nothing for granted, and we had many guest judges that all pointed out different ways we could improve. By the time we'd met our matches in competition, we were so solidly prepared and unshakable that NOT making the semifinals would have been a surprise to me.
We were thrilled.
* * *
Unfortunately, despite the rigorous academic grind the team involves, a student can only get academic credit for participation once. Thus, at the encouragement of a professor I am close with, I am trying out for the larger, school-touted team which has no such limitation. Recall that I said TRYING OUT only.
The tryouts alone for these teams are exhausting. The written component involves composing an appellate brief, which requires researching and synthesizing the law on at least two issues. The oral argument tryouts, the second stage, are available only to those who submitted a good brief. Those arguments involve a weeks worth of after-work practices that are judged; and plenty of integration of judges comments and new research. It is basically a mini-competition in and of itself.
When my peer mentor told me last year that he thought the tryout process itself was an extremely good learning experience, I thought he was saying that to console himself for an unsuccessful run. I now know that what he went through simply trying out for the team was probably about a quarter of the work I had to do all semester once I had made it ON to the Jessup team. Once again, he was correct.
I sure hope I make this team; it's been quite an investment of time, and it's completely dominated the weeklong break I had before the summer session of classes begins.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
The Lawyer-Mobile
Families show love and support in so many different ways.
Some families throw wads of money at their student wards, giving them living-expense stipends or paying their rent where able. Some offer a place to stay, home-cooked meals, laundry services, and the like. Some babysit for their children's children during class hours or work; some are present for every event in which their family member is involved.
I am a single young woman, but I get help from my family in a number of those ways. I myself work about 35 hours every week to eliminate the need to take out private loans to cover my living expenses. I have also been fortunate enough to receive help from three community organizations in the form of scholarships this semester. But rather than itemize the myriad of beautiful ways I am aided by my loved ones (because they are all so appreciated, but perhaps personal to the givers), I just want to talk about the assistance I rely on most day-to-day: The Lawyer-Mobile.
So dubbed by a close friend of mine, the Lawyer-Mobile is a testament to both my parents and grandparent's love and support. While technically not a 'gift', it is exactly that to me. The car is bought and paid for by my parents, and after I finish school I am to pay back the loan. Originally my grandfathers car, they sold it to my parents (for me) before I began law school. But these details don't matter.
What matters is this: when I pile into my car each morning, throwing books onto the front leather seats and my requisite change of clothes for the evening into the back seat, the car welcomes me with the silent promise that my family will hold me together. When I turn that key in the ignition, I know that if anything fails on that machine, my parents will be at the ready to help me get it up and running. When I survey the plastic faux-wood paneling and soft leather seats, I think of car rides with my loving grandparents, and the hard work my grandfather went through to get through the same law school I now attend. When I fill up the unfortunately gas-hungry tank, I remember that if things ever get too bad, I know I have people that will offer me a place to stay, food to eat, and a million other things.
I remember that I am riding with so much wind beneath my wings, and I remember that every single day.
Some families throw wads of money at their student wards, giving them living-expense stipends or paying their rent where able. Some offer a place to stay, home-cooked meals, laundry services, and the like. Some babysit for their children's children during class hours or work; some are present for every event in which their family member is involved.
I am a single young woman, but I get help from my family in a number of those ways. I myself work about 35 hours every week to eliminate the need to take out private loans to cover my living expenses. I have also been fortunate enough to receive help from three community organizations in the form of scholarships this semester. But rather than itemize the myriad of beautiful ways I am aided by my loved ones (because they are all so appreciated, but perhaps personal to the givers), I just want to talk about the assistance I rely on most day-to-day: The Lawyer-Mobile.
So dubbed by a close friend of mine, the Lawyer-Mobile is a testament to both my parents and grandparent's love and support. While technically not a 'gift', it is exactly that to me. The car is bought and paid for by my parents, and after I finish school I am to pay back the loan. Originally my grandfathers car, they sold it to my parents (for me) before I began law school. But these details don't matter.
What matters is this: when I pile into my car each morning, throwing books onto the front leather seats and my requisite change of clothes for the evening into the back seat, the car welcomes me with the silent promise that my family will hold me together. When I turn that key in the ignition, I know that if anything fails on that machine, my parents will be at the ready to help me get it up and running. When I survey the plastic faux-wood paneling and soft leather seats, I think of car rides with my loving grandparents, and the hard work my grandfather went through to get through the same law school I now attend. When I fill up the unfortunately gas-hungry tank, I remember that if things ever get too bad, I know I have people that will offer me a place to stay, food to eat, and a million other things.
I remember that I am riding with so much wind beneath my wings, and I remember that every single day.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Home stretch...
Finals are concluding, and the stress levels are dropping. Luckily, Cleveland temperatures are rising as well. I'm really looking forward to that two week break before my summer classes begin again.
To those of you who like to imagine the strenuous experience that is law school: on Friday night, I took a three-and-a-half hour open-book final with about 20 other exhausted classmates.
You'd think open book is a generous kind of exam, and you'd be wrong. Dead wrong. Open book simply means that on top of having complete mastery of the concepts, you must also cite with complete accuracy, because you have no excuse not to--after all, you had the book in front of you.
This particular exam is infamous: the professor is completely considerate, highly professional, and gives you fair warning for any discomfort that his class must necessarily cause to still be considered educational. His tests are ruthless: they inexorably glean from you every piece of knowledge you have about the subject. They expect from you in three-and-a-half hours exactly what he delivers all semester: easy clarity, relevance, and complete accuracy. Most students struggle mightily to finish within the already generous time constraints.
All the same, I did well the first semester of his course, and I'd hoped to repeat my success this semester. But at 9:45 p.m., when I wearily schlepped my two three-ring binders and practitioner's handbook back to my lawyer-mobile, I pretty much just hoped I'd pass--so I wouldn't have to take the exam again.
To those of you who like to imagine the strenuous experience that is law school: on Friday night, I took a three-and-a-half hour open-book final with about 20 other exhausted classmates.
You'd think open book is a generous kind of exam, and you'd be wrong. Dead wrong. Open book simply means that on top of having complete mastery of the concepts, you must also cite with complete accuracy, because you have no excuse not to--after all, you had the book in front of you.
This particular exam is infamous: the professor is completely considerate, highly professional, and gives you fair warning for any discomfort that his class must necessarily cause to still be considered educational. His tests are ruthless: they inexorably glean from you every piece of knowledge you have about the subject. They expect from you in three-and-a-half hours exactly what he delivers all semester: easy clarity, relevance, and complete accuracy. Most students struggle mightily to finish within the already generous time constraints.
All the same, I did well the first semester of his course, and I'd hoped to repeat my success this semester. But at 9:45 p.m., when I wearily schlepped my two three-ring binders and practitioner's handbook back to my lawyer-mobile, I pretty much just hoped I'd pass--so I wouldn't have to take the exam again.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Madness Building...
This entry is necessarily brief, because I have a 20 page paper due at 5 p.m., and a killer final at 9 a.m. tomorrow morning.
Even a night student needs unbroken study time, so after my first semester I made a policy of taking a day off of work the day before each final exam. My grades skyrocketed almost instantaneously; an unbroken day of peace and mental preparation seemed to be the key to excellent performance. It hasn't failed me yet.
Today, however:
Even a night student needs unbroken study time, so after my first semester I made a policy of taking a day off of work the day before each final exam. My grades skyrocketed almost instantaneously; an unbroken day of peace and mental preparation seemed to be the key to excellent performance. It hasn't failed me yet.
Today, however:
- Someone has been hammering in the apartment above me for about three hours now. There is no end in sight, as some new contractors just walked over there.
- I can't stop thinking about all of the work I have to do tomorrow afternoon; I work at a municipal law department and I am responsible for the preparation of the prosecutor's files for next week.
- Coffee is not clearing my mind; and does not seem to be fueling me with a passionate intellectual drive.
Frankly, I'm academically panicked; I can not concentrate, and I have five hours to perfect a paper for my Judaic Law course. Then I have another seven hours to master Civil Procedure.
Despite the positive attitude I try to maintain about school, I must admit there are moments when I definitely feel I am drowning.
I keep in close touch with the student mentor I was assigned my first year. He's now a federal attorney with the U. S. Department of Homeland Security's Bureau of Customs & Border Protection; he's proved to be a wealth of comfort and wisdom at the times I most needed those things. In response to a panicked email I shot off this morning, he assures me:
"You're going to be fine. Mark my words: in a couple years, you'll have an awesome job and will be happy and fulfilled. I know that doesn't make getting through today or tomorrow any easier when you're actually going through it, but I personally remember having several of those days. You'll make it though. Days like this will be a distant memory."
When the panic really surges, I remember his words from orientation:
"Sometimes it's going to seem like law school is just three or four long years of hazing, and those who make it through are the ones who get the J.D.s."
* * *
Tomorrow is Law Day, by the way. The City Club of Cleveland is putting on a great event, and if you are in the area and interested at all in Death Penalty issues, give it a look. I'd be there, but I'll be purging my brain of Civil Procedure.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Sua Sponte
After perusing the dozen legal feeds to which I subscribe, I finally determined it was time I did the inevitable: blog. Yes, the title is a bit ironic. I know there are a billion legal blogs, and a few law student blogs as well--but I intend to add a few new ingredients.
Enthusiasm. Passion. Pride. Optimism. Dedication.
Thus, primae impressionis is born: a legal sandbox in which to reflect on the law, living the life of a perpetual (okay, part-time evening) law student in the home of Rock n' Roll, and the occasional stray societal/political issue. With any luck, this blog will entertain, enlighten, and follow me through to an actual career in the noble legal profession.
And no, that is NOT a joke :)
Enthusiasm. Passion. Pride. Optimism. Dedication.
Thus, primae impressionis is born: a legal sandbox in which to reflect on the law, living the life of a perpetual (okay, part-time evening) law student in the home of Rock n' Roll, and the occasional stray societal/political issue. With any luck, this blog will entertain, enlighten, and follow me through to an actual career in the noble legal profession.
And no, that is NOT a joke :)
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