The First Week: The Billionth 1L's Two Cents

Why, after millions of smarter, more charming and certainly more eloquent lawyers-in-training have already written all there is to be written about the first week experience, do I feel compelled to share my own thoughts on the subject? The short answer is I really don't. I'd rather tell you about my new cactus.

Actually, it's not really new. We went plant shopping couple weeks ago and I got it then. I'm not sure what type of cactus it is but I call mine 'The Yodic Trinity'. Yodic because it's nearly the bluish green that Yoda is, plus it's got fuzzy whisps of white 'hair' surrounding it's spikes. Trinity because there are three of these 'fingers' clustered closely together in the pot. It sits in the window right in front of my desk and I've found myself staring at it occasionally when I'm in the midst of reading law. If I can locate our digital camera, I'll post a photo of it. Perhaps one of you could tell me what type of cactus it is...and provide proper care-and-feeding instructions to boot?

Ok, just a snipet on the week, but not so much about law school as much as the people I'm there with: I've been really impressed with most everyone I've met in my section. The ease with which they can all go from talking about last nights dinner to deep discussions of politics, religion and the like is really amazing. Certainly, I expected that each person would come to the table with specific motivations and various experiences. What I didn't expect (and I think I should have) was that everyone would be so passionate about and well-versed in subjects that, well, the nightly news would have you believe are the sole domain of talking heads and 'experts'. And though there is a vast array of opinions and backgrounds, the common bond seems to be that underlying passion. Though the week's been a bit daunting and my head hurts somewhat from all that's been thrown at it, I have to say that being surrounded by such folks has been invigorating.

I hope all is well on your respective ends...S.

Second Official Day

Well, Day One is now under my belt. How's it feel? Bulky with reading and massive 'additional reading' packets. Two of the three classes yesterday hold promise on the 'maintaining Shaun's interest' front. The third, which shall remain nameless, will be challenging on many fronts. The professor is old school, hard to hear and spouts of statute and code numbers as though we should be writing them down. Not exactly invigorating or ease-making. It'll be hard for all of us, though particularly so for that obnoxious guy that's in my section. He's already given this professor a bad impression and of all the professor's we've encountered thus far, this is the one whose shit-list you don't want to be on. I'm not advocating eating your young here but I think we're all hoping that his mouth runs defense for the rest of us.

Though I've only got between 2 and 3 hours of class a day, I'm kicking the tires on this 8-5 routine at school. I come in with Brooke in the morning and meet her as she's heading home. I think it'll work out nicely, helping to get most of my reading done here at school. The goal is to have at least one weekend day off a week. I'm hoping it works...

Off to class...

First Official Day

It is zero hour here @ Suffolk. I'm trudging about the halls, weighed down by too many books just like so many other first years. We all have that look in our eyes like we're on a dark highway somewhere and a bright light is coming at us, mesmerizing us. I got to school early today in hopes of...hell, I don't know. I guess I figured it would be like my first day at a new job so I'd better make a good impression by showing up two hours early. Seems that everyone that's not right out of college had the same idea. None of us have class for at least an hour but we're all mulling about, chatting nervously in groups, struggling to remember names and hoping that just reading the assignment for class will be enough to keep us from looking like fools the first day.

Though I chose Suffolk in part because it doesn't have a reputation as a super competitive school (ie- students don't generally hide or steal books in/from the library, etc), I can already sense that these kids are itching to compete. I've overheard subtle boasts about the easy of the reading. Folks pretend not to worry or ask loaded questions to unnerve their fellow students. I just keep reminding myself not to listen to anyone, even the ones I'm friendly with. Jaded skepticism is, I think, is a necessary trait to have it one is to remain sane in law school.

Five highlighters and a Dictaphone

Though it's supposed to just be orientation this week, the work is already being piled on. Today, during our first full day of orientation, we were walked through the basics of writing a 'brief', then assigned a case to brief for orientation classes tomorrow. Feeling like an idiot, I'm told, is all part of the law school experience.

A brief is, as I discovered today, a way of taking all the details of a case and boiling them down into a short list of important details. The segments they have us break them down into are Case Name, Procedural History, Facts, Issues, Holding, Rule, Reasoning, and Disposition. Yes, it looks like English but it is most definitely not. And though we were walked through the process of writing a brief today, writing one solo today took me the better part of two hours. Doesn't sound like much time but considering we're going to need to brief 2-4 cases per class and there are 6 classes, you can see that it's probably going to start cutting into my drinking time. That is, unless, I learn how to speed up the process. We were told that we'll feel like retorts lost in an amusement park for the first few weeks, though, so I guess it's all part of the plan.

Aside from orientation stuff, I've been procuring a few good people to pal around with. For some reason, the three friendlies I've acquired thus far are all Boston natives. Pete's just out of the Navy (ROTC), Matt's been in San Fran for a few years but just returned to Beantown after a stint in HR and Marina is a native that's worked for the last few years in local bureaucracy. All of them have the Thirst, save Marina but she doesn't complain when the booze fairy delivers unexpectedly. They'll be good folks to share a pitcher with at the end of the week.

S.

Police Action @ Park St. Station

Last night, Brooke and I were walking from a bar on Boylston St. to the Park St. T stop. As we approached the entrance, we waded through a fairly thick crowd of folks that were being directed by police away from the entrance and across the street. They'd already put up that yellow barrier tape around the entrance and police vehicles were parked, lights a flashin', all over the place. No one seemed to know what was going on.

We decided to walk to the Downtown Crossing station to catch the Red line, thinking that maybe it was just something wrong at the entrance to Park. We got there, walked in and immediately out because of the massive horde that had already assembled waiting for the next Red Line train heading north. On our way out, we asked the station attendent what was going on and he said that the Red and Green lines were both 'temporarily shutdown' due to a 'police action'. Whatever the hell that means.

We decided to walk past Park St towards Cambridge thinking that we could either catch a cab or be lucky enough to find the trains running again by the time we got to the Charles MGH station. I called my little brother on the way and asked him to check online to see if there were any news flashes regarding this but no dice. By the time we got to MGH, the trains were running again so we hopped on for the two stops it would take to get home. Crisis averted and all is right again with the world.

Here's what's disturbing me, though: there has been absolutely NO news coverage of what transpired last night. Nothing on the Boston Herald or Tribune websites, nothing @ the NYTimes' site, nothing on the local NPR stations site, nothing on the local cable news this morning, nothing on the Transit Authority's website. I mean NOTHING is out there. This isn't Atlanta, where no one would notice that MARTA was shut down for half an hour. This is the Red Line @ Park St; one of the central downtown stations in a subway system whose police chief recently admitted isn't adequately prepared in the event of a terrorist attack. Last night's event is News and yet no one is reporting on it. Why?

S.

WTF?

I was just sitting here at my desk, minding my own business, when a military jet flew VERY LOW at supersonic speeds over our place in Cambridge. My instincts pointed me in the direction of Fark and a few other news sites to see what was shaking but there is nothing doing at this point. Man, I hope it was just a silly oversight on the part of the military. It is, in fact, our largest bureaucracy. I'll be glued to this screen for the next few hours, all the same.

The First Year Forty

When I was at WSU doing my undergrad, much was made of the dreaded 'Freshmen Fifteen'. It referred to the 15 lbs that all students seem to put on during their first year at college. It was probably the lack of substantial exercise compounded by regular binge drinking and pizza delivery that did it. Anyway, it was dreaded and the source of much catty whispering in the cafeteria. Good times.

Well, I'd like to coin a new term for something weight-related that occurs your first year of law school: 'The First Year Forty'. In this case, however, the 40 lbs is not fat but paper. I just bought my books today. Just the required ones. Stacked on the scale, they weigh 35.5 lbs. The 'recommended' and necessary-though-not-required guide books and study guides that I'll be picking up over the next week will easily put me over the mark. One woman I met in the computer lab today told me that she had to bring a friend to the bookstore because she knew she couldn't possibly carry them all at once.

My first thought after schlepping these bad boys home was "They couldn't possibly expect us to read all this". Then I glanced at a few of the syllabi that have been published online and realized, "holy shit, we have to read all this." A note to anyone considering a visit to us in Boston in the next nine months: bring me coffee and don't expect anything more from me than a howdy during a potty break. That is all.

Also, I know I've been slack in responding to emails lately. I fully intend on replying to everyone very soon. It maybe the last you hear from me...

S.

The Slack Before The Storm

What have I been doing all week, you might be wondering? After the deluge of posts over the last two weeks, why have I suddenly fallen silent? 'Is he dead,' you might think to yourself (with your fingers crossed).

The answer is mundane: I've been doing f@%$-all for a week. I'm done painting and I've nearly run out of broken things to pester the landlord about. I've been taking occasional walks around the 'hood, shopping for groceries and playing a really addictive MMORPG. The most productive thing I've done all we has been getting a haircut. All while my wife goes to work and brings home the bacon. Good times.

While this seems like a pretty good deal, I'm glad I've only got one more week before orientation and such starts for school. Any more than that and I'd start to feel a little guilt about being such a slacker. As those of you that are married already know, a little guilt goes a long way. In my case, I'm certain it'd lead to obsessive cleaning and five-course dinners every night. There is no way I can let Brooke get a taste of that. At least not until I'm a full-time stay-at-home over-achieving Dad, that is.

A few ramblings about this week:

Sunday night we had the LOUDEST thunder storm I've ever been privy to. They happen every other day in Atlanta, it seems, and I'm quite accustom to sleeping right the hell through them. Zeus was not to be ignored Sunday, however. The flashes and booms were so bright and deafening (respectively) that no one this side of Helen Keller could have slept through them. It was like the storm was directly outside our bedroom window but the spaces between the light and the fury were such that most of the strikes were happening a few miles away at least. Are there any meteorologically inclined readers that might be able to explain why the storm was so loud and bright compared to its Southern cousin?

Not to sound like I've got completely native but, if you're a tourist in downtown Boston please consult your map prior to heading out on the Freedom Trail. Perhaps while enjoying an iced coffee in a cafe or some such. Do NOT stop mid-sidewalk with your gaggle of family to check your compass every ten feet. Hey, I get lost sometimes too but if I need to break out my sextant and get my bearings, I step OUT of the flow of pedestrian traffic. It's only been a few weeks but I know that I'm close to adopting Patrick's plow-right-the-hell-through-them tactic.

Finally, there is this guy that is on Mass Ave in front of the Bank of America nearly every day of the week hawking 'Spare Change' or 'Real Change' (whatever they call it here...the newspaper that's published locally to be sold by the homeless and down-and-out. They have to register with the publishers and it's always been my understanding that they're supposed to be transitioning off the street and to a better life). Anyway, during my first two weeks here, his consistency and resolve at selling them was enough to make me want to buy one. I just never carry cash so I had to keep telling him no.

Then, just a few days ago I was walking down Mass Ave and he was sitting with a bunch of the other regulars drinking Bud out of paper bags. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for relaxing the drinking-out-of-doors laws but this scene left a bad taste in my mouth. My first notion was that he's not 'transitioning', he's maintaining and I'll be damned if I give him any money to help him in that endeavor. In recent days, though, I've soften a bit. It was just one moment, after all, and I have no idea what the circumstances were. Hell, it's not as though I'm a teetotaler who's never tippled the bottle in public before. Even if he's a street urchin that spends the rest of his life peddling those papers for enough money to buy beer, at least he's got a pretty solid work ethic and isn't requesting something for nothing.

Cheers,
S.