Greetings new friends. I promise this is the last I'll wax on this issue... As afore menioned, I fell into the first semester trap--as so many 1Ls before me--of predicting my own success before receiving my exam grades. Although they turned out to not be as bad as I had initially thought (getting your worst grade back first is probably best for morale purposes), I'm firmly entrenched in the middle of the pack, while my aspirations had been for at least top 30%.
To further compound my confusion, I was nonchalantly conversing with another 1L the other day, a nice guy, but one whom I hadn't really figured to have much of a brain. Turns out he got all As and high Bs... which leaves me to go further impale myself on the piercing cutlass of humility. I have chosen to view this lesson as a blessing though; this experience has taught me to forget whatever I thought I knew about my own God-given abilities, and more importantly, not assume I have everyone figured out.
Moving along, I was watching Larry King last night (not really on purpose; I was flipping around) and saw Donald Trump. And I don't care about who's right or right and wrong--you've gotta love this guy. Larry showed a clip from that God-awful piece of midmorning feces, "The View" (which does for the female image what beer ads do for males), in which the lead hens are pecking about on stage, once again clucking about the Donald. Rosie O'Donnell reared back her chicken head and screeched some jibberish about "The Apprentice" tanking (which is news to me), much to the delight of the spectator hens, at which point Barbara Walters recants her previous disclosures about hating Rosie (as every American citizen does, aside from the sycophantic flabby-armed housewives gleefully gyrating in the audience). Donald of course comes across cooler and classier, reluctant to beat the dead horse that is this ongoing charade, and casually pointed out that "The Apprentice" commands ratings that Rosie's canceled show could never have dreamed of, and that once they stop talking about him on The View, the ratings will come back down again.
Thoughts?
I used to admire Barbara Walters for her journalism, but I can't help but lose all respect for her after she carved out her own backbone and pretended she loved Rosie.
In any event, without The View we would never have been graced with Tracy Morgan's impressions of Star Jones, which make this whole mess worthwhile.
And most importantly, Barack Obama will compete for the 2008 Democratic Presidential nomination.
I do have my fears about the way the country will react since so many people (mostly cavemen, cannibals, and NASCAR enthusiasts) aren't ready to have a non-white male President, but if we are able to at least open up to the possibility, it would be an unprecedented leap forward for America. Plus, even the most red-blooded Republicans are starting to realize that anything is better than what we're currently stuck with.**
**disclaimer: Republicans are Americans too, and I have several right wing friends who would even argue that they are also human beings.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Monday, January 15, 2007
People I would like to see skinned alive, Vol. 1
Well, I'm officially back in the saddle again here at SLP, and I'm astounded at how much my law brain has atrophied in the month since exams ended. I sat down to read a Con Law assignment today and I felt damn near the same way I did when I tried to read my first Contracts case back in August. Fantastic.
In other news, I'm at the end of my facking wits with you cell-phone-in-the-library people. Are these dolts for real? How in God's name can you actually not know it's a cardinal sin to allow your flipphone to blare a polyphonic cacophony of "I'm Bringing Sexy Back" at ear-splitting decibel levels in the middle of a fucking law library? And then, the real shit-kicker... After waiting six or seven ring cycles so they're sure everyone in the building knows they are important enough to have received a phone call, an uncanny majority of these idiots then proceeds to ANSWER the phone and CARRY ON A CONVERSATION.
It absolutely baffles my mind to think that there are people who can exist a quarter of a century or more on this planet and still manage to avoid absorbing even the most slight consideration for your fellow human being.
In other news, I'm at the end of my facking wits with you cell-phone-in-the-library people. Are these dolts for real? How in God's name can you actually not know it's a cardinal sin to allow your flipphone to blare a polyphonic cacophony of "I'm Bringing Sexy Back" at ear-splitting decibel levels in the middle of a fucking law library? And then, the real shit-kicker... After waiting six or seven ring cycles so they're sure everyone in the building knows they are important enough to have received a phone call, an uncanny majority of these idiots then proceeds to ANSWER the phone and CARRY ON A CONVERSATION.
It absolutely baffles my mind to think that there are people who can exist a quarter of a century or more on this planet and still manage to avoid absorbing even the most slight consideration for your fellow human being.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Grade insanity defies all logic
I just checked my freshly posted Criminal Law grade...
And I got an A. Hot damn! I now have an A, B, and a C so far, which demonstrates just how ridiculous the grading process is. Do yourself a favor--do NOT make any attempts at grade prognostication. The grades are shot forth from some entropic void and are subject neither to the bounds of logic nor comprehension.
Still have one grade to go though... If the current upward trend continues, I'm due for about a 97, which would be nice. Alas, I feel this could be a pretty bad one, so I'll keep my fingers crossed.*
*Surprisingly, I ended up getting a high B, which helped to heal my GPA from the Torts grade. I'm still pissed at that fucking Gonzo though.
And I got an A. Hot damn! I now have an A, B, and a C so far, which demonstrates just how ridiculous the grading process is. Do yourself a favor--do NOT make any attempts at grade prognostication. The grades are shot forth from some entropic void and are subject neither to the bounds of logic nor comprehension.
Still have one grade to go though... If the current upward trend continues, I'm due for about a 97, which would be nice. Alas, I feel this could be a pretty bad one, so I'll keep my fingers crossed.*
*Surprisingly, I ended up getting a high B, which helped to heal my GPA from the Torts grade. I'm still pissed at that fucking Gonzo though.
Tuesday, January 9, 2007
The Registrar hands down a stiff reality cheque
One month ago I finished my first semester of law school at what we'll refer to forthwith as "Southeastern Law Place." Four months ago I ignored the advice of several 3L and attorney buddies who insisted that I would have NO idea whatsoever of how I fared on my exams until I received the grades in January. I brashly ignored these sensible pleas.
Never again.
After taking the Torts final, I was sure I had basically crushed it. After Criminal, I thought I may not have done as well--maybe, GASP--even as low as the class average. Then came Contracts. Ooohhhhh, baby, I strutted out of the room like a southside pimp with a leopard skin cape after roasting that little slice of nothing. DEFINITE A there. Property didn't go so well, but hey--I was already on Law Review with the way I killed everything else, so why sweat it?
I didn't so much drive home for the holidays as much as I rode there atop a veritable wave of unsubstantiated delusions of success and future six-figure legendary lawyering, and promptly informed my parents that the worst scenario was that I would land in the top 50% (as IF), and the best-case scenario, I was looking at the top 10-15%. I mean, I'm just so fuckin smart, I aced these piddly little exams. What was the big deal? I couldn't see why anyone would ever work him or herself into a neurotic frenzy over such an easily surmountable obstacle as law school finals. But then again, most people aren't blessed with my unprecedented intellect and ability.
Enter Lady Registrar.
"Professor Gonzo's Torts Grades have been posted to the portal," the email read. Finally--confirmation of my own greatness! My head dizzied as I typed in my password, scrolled down and...
Wait, this isn't right. MUST be a typo. Does Gonzo not double check his entries? This CAN'T be right...
I had gotten a C.
Shaken, distraught, and speechless with disbelief, I zombied through the remainder of the evening. Surely this is the worst of it. An aberration--Gonzo was clearly exhausted when he graded my exam--or just mad--or graded mine first without being able to compare it to the inferior exams of my classmates. I couldn't sleep.
The next day, another email. "Professor Zork's Contracts grades have been posted to the portal." Once bitten, now shy, I slowly moved the cursor like an apprehensive stray dog approaching a well-meaning stranger weilding a hunk of top sirloin.
My Contracts grade, what I had prematurely proclaimed to be the crowning achievement of my first law school efforts: a B-.
I saturated my brain with all sorts of legal knowledge over the past five months, but this is shaping up to be the most crucial lesson I've learned yet. Stay tuned.
Never again.
After taking the Torts final, I was sure I had basically crushed it. After Criminal, I thought I may not have done as well--maybe, GASP--even as low as the class average. Then came Contracts. Ooohhhhh, baby, I strutted out of the room like a southside pimp with a leopard skin cape after roasting that little slice of nothing. DEFINITE A there. Property didn't go so well, but hey--I was already on Law Review with the way I killed everything else, so why sweat it?
I didn't so much drive home for the holidays as much as I rode there atop a veritable wave of unsubstantiated delusions of success and future six-figure legendary lawyering, and promptly informed my parents that the worst scenario was that I would land in the top 50% (as IF), and the best-case scenario, I was looking at the top 10-15%. I mean, I'm just so fuckin smart, I aced these piddly little exams. What was the big deal? I couldn't see why anyone would ever work him or herself into a neurotic frenzy over such an easily surmountable obstacle as law school finals. But then again, most people aren't blessed with my unprecedented intellect and ability.
Enter Lady Registrar.
"Professor Gonzo's Torts Grades have been posted to the portal," the email read. Finally--confirmation of my own greatness! My head dizzied as I typed in my password, scrolled down and...
Wait, this isn't right. MUST be a typo. Does Gonzo not double check his entries? This CAN'T be right...
I had gotten a C.
Shaken, distraught, and speechless with disbelief, I zombied through the remainder of the evening. Surely this is the worst of it. An aberration--Gonzo was clearly exhausted when he graded my exam--or just mad--or graded mine first without being able to compare it to the inferior exams of my classmates. I couldn't sleep.
The next day, another email. "Professor Zork's Contracts grades have been posted to the portal." Once bitten, now shy, I slowly moved the cursor like an apprehensive stray dog approaching a well-meaning stranger weilding a hunk of top sirloin.
My Contracts grade, what I had prematurely proclaimed to be the crowning achievement of my first law school efforts: a B-.
I saturated my brain with all sorts of legal knowledge over the past five months, but this is shaping up to be the most crucial lesson I've learned yet. Stay tuned.
Labels:
1L,
exams,
first semester,
grades
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