Site Update

I just changed my comments to holoscan. It has trackback capabilities so I can tell when nobody links to me. Also, it means that I had to erase all of my old comments. Please go through and reenter your earlier comments. THANKS!

Thought

"Success in politics requires encouraging others to give things, such as money or votes.

This poses the discomforting question of how much real difference lies between a politician and a gigolo."

Life Plan

I’m done with my carb-binge this weekend.

My recent experience with Atkins has changed my mind about the whole process, and I no longer intend to re-enter the induction period.

I’m eating whole wheat now, plus axing most red meat, and I’ll be going back to the gym, despite my lingering cold. Also, low-carbohydrate beer and wine will be reintroduced to my diet.

That is my new life plan.

Beer and wine are hard to get rid of. They’re one of those small indulgences which aren’t noticed as important until well after their absence, like lingering with someone in bed on a Saturday morning, when all manner of other tasks need doing.

Don’t read into that.

Falling in My Lap

A [Mostly] Real Scene from my Friday:

[Phone Sounds]

Phone: Hey [Edior of Neo Tokyo Times],

Me: Hey [part time after-hours employer]

Phone: Well, we’re gearing up to hire full-time staff for the campaign. You know, the campaign you’re currently working for at about 4-hours a week.

Me: Ahh.

Phone: Yes, well put. Your telephone eloquence is one of the main reasons we hired you. We were wondering if you’d like to start working full time for [the candidate who is really awesome and has a proven record for getting things, awesome things, done in Sacramento.]

Me: Ohhh. Of course I would. But you know, I’m leaving for law school soon. I won’t even be here after mid August.

Phone: That’s okay. This job is just coordinating some basic campaign activities, things you enjoy. It can end after August. Also, it’ll pay 50-100% more than you’re making now, which is in fact, 300% of what you need to pay your bills and go to a movie on the weekends.

Me: Um… Yes. I’d be very interested in that job.

Phone: Good. Your freedom from complete idiocy is one of the other main reasons we hired you. Send me a new copy of your resume and we’ll schedule a telephone interview with our consultant later next week.

Me: Wow, um. Great. Oh, when is the job supposed to start, do you think?

Phone: One or two weeks after your current job ends, which as I understand it, pays you very handsomely for doing little more than reading weblogs.

Me: Wow. That’s perfect. I can take a vacation and then come right into working for you guys.

Phone: Yes. That is perfect. I trust that somehow you will screw things up and squander this tremendous opportunity.

Me: Yes, that sounds about right. I’ll send my resume right away.

Phone: Please do.

Re-waitlisted

Hastings has rejected my appeal of their decision to put me on their waitlist. I remain on their waitlist.

Boalt sent a letter last week saying that they don’t accept appeals, whatsoever.

I mentioned here that I was appealing at Hastings just to see if I was auto-waitlisted. I lied. I want to collect acceptances to boost my own esteem.

Damn.

BLAWGs

I know very few lawyers and none very well. The Gray Cary lawyer I mentioned earlier is really just a young friend of my fathers’, with whom I had breakfast. Dad wanted to give me a chance to ask some questions of someone who had been there. Two other lawyers are, well, they’re not really lawyers yet. They just graduated from regional schools here in town, and they’re still looking for jobs. One’s making $15 an hour defending the homeless in the same capacity he was during law school, and the other’s still living in his friend’s den. They’re Young Democrats. Go figure.

My grandfather used to teach at the University of San Diego School of Law. He’s got scholarships and a park or something named after him, but I never knew him very well, and I don’t know if he ever practiced outside of the JAG.

Anyhow, despite my unflappable confidence that I need to attend law school, I know very little about what it is to be a lawyer. It’s a little daunting. I know that I like arguing. I know that I like procedure and protocol. I know that I like public speaking, and persuasion, and writing, and girls in business suits. So that’s being a lawyer, right? Right? Yes. That’s being a lawyer. Or at the very least, that’s having a law degree.

And I want to go into politics. But I don’t want to be one of those oily, failed, manic, parasitic operatives who hustles from campaign to campaign, living on ramen and caffeine. I want to be a substantive actor in things greater than myself, and if you’re not an artist, or a businessman, a scientist or a criminal, then maybe politics and the law is where you’re at. And if you want to be a real player in politics, you either have to be a lawyer, or interact almost exclusively with lawyers.

Anyhow, justifications aside, I have no idea what I’m getting into, and I’ve really enjoyed my foray into this blawging community thus far. It’s been highly educational, especially in regards to the culture of lawyering and law student-ing.

The advice and insights people have, and are interested in sharing, are great. Some was gleaned from expressed experiences, and a surprising amount has been directed to me specifically. Whether I’m justified in thinking so or not, I feel much more knowledgeable about the law school experience, having read from those who have and are doing it.

Scheherazade and The Uncivil Litigator all have great things to say about the profession, and they make me less afraid of the possibility that I may one day have to practice law.

Keeping Sane

Jeremy Blachman, who either reads/writes a lot faster than a human being, or himself never attends class, responded to my earlier post about studying.

Jeremy: Thanks for caring! And possibly more for reading! Jeremy is my new law school mentor. It’s an arrangement he didn’t ask for, but one which will ultimately benefit me a great deal more than him. Thanks. Again.

I AM going to do something extracurricular during law school. Jeremy’s right: I have to, for purposes of sanity. Also, I’m into politics, so the Young Dems or the American Constitutional Society ought to be productive organizations for future career networking.

Maybe I’m assuming the audience knows too much about my history. And by “too much,” I mean “anything.” But the fact of the matter is, if I don’t ration myself, I’ll forget about the academic aspect of school.

As an undergrad, I may not have gone to class much, but I kept plenty busy. Too busy. Its not that I didn’t appreciate the value of extracurricular interests. I was Mr. Extracurricular. I got too into it. I was the editor of a humor publication for the majority of my time there, and I spent an awful lot of time floating between meetings and events associated with the student government. And I got to know everyone. I still go on campus regularly and can’t go from my car to the gym without shaking someone’s hand.

My problem was that where I cared little about my performance in academia, I cared a great deal about my success in my extracurricular endeavors.

It was worth it, to me, to neglect class in favor of my other adventures.

I think there’s a suspect aspect of my personality which encourages me to challenge myself. When I find something to occupy my time, I generally try to outdo myself. I try to make a showing. As an undergrad, extracurricular activities were the path of least resistance, ‘cause I’m not that academically inclined. Running an organization, or playing politician was fun, and rewarding, and again, I’m not that academically inclined.

I mean, I loved all of these things. I don’t regret not getting the grades to match my LSAT and get me into Harvard or Boalt. But I’m going to law school in the fall, and the measure of my experience there will be more academic than was my undergraduate experience.

If I want the plumb job at the big firm (I don’t), or the prestigious position as a Congressional Committee counsel (I might), or even just the attention and awe of my peers (I will), then a more regimented focus on academia will be necessary.

No, I guess I won’t ignore all extracurricular activities. In fact, I’ll surely be more “involved” with my campus than is academically wise. But I’m sure that if I put the same level of effort into class that I did as an undergrad, I’ll graduate from GULC or wherever, far below my where I think I could.

I guess too, that graduating in the top 50% would be fine. I mean, that’s fine. And I have no doubt that I’ll be capable of finding happiness and satisfaction with myself even if I don’t perform superbly when testing comes around. And sure, I guess studying doesn’t have to be a huge amount of time spent. But I can’t imagine I won’t do better, if I try harder than I have in the past.

Of course, this whole plan will go out the door if I find extracurricular activities that seem substantively more valuable than a regimented study schedule. Moot Court sounds sweet. And if John Kerry stops by and says he just can’t run his future White House without my sage consultation, I’ll be there, interning my ass off.

But so far GULC looks like it has a wine tasting club, and I’m definitely gonna join that, and only reluctantly serve as an officer for its administration.

Then I’ll run for Wine-Tasting President.

And lose.

Breaking my Covenant

I’ve had a cold for almost the entire duration of my 10 days on Atkins’ induction period.

The first five days on Atkins is usually pretty discomforting, with a persistent weakness, and a feeling like something important is missing in your life. But more often than not for me, it also invites in a sickness.

So last night, after I tried to fix my desire to go to bed early and sleep through my aches and weariness with a Gyros salad, I gave up. I made a quesadilla from the low carbohydrate tortilla I had left over from my last “low-but-not-no carbohydrate” diet phase, and after discovering that I was still not satiated, I broke into a bag of candy my temp agency gave me. I ate 4 miniature Chips Ahoy cookies, and a snack-sized Rice Crispy treat. A few hours later, while jamming on my roommate’s Xbox, I paid another roommate the price of his own burrito, to pick one up for me.

This morning I felt great. I’m going to eat a club sandwich on whole wheat for lunch. For dinner, I think I’ll make a chicken Caesar sandwich, on whole wheat, of course.

Long live the “low-but-not-no carbohydrate” diet!

I think I’ll be well enough to return to the gym too, which for the last week or so, I’ve neglected in favor of being in bed by 10.

I can't study

Wings talks about the etiquette of clapping at the end of a class’s term. While Wings’ blog is mostly an exercise in hilarity, this post struck a chord with me.

I was routinely surprised when my undergraduate classes erupted into applause at the end of a term. Why? ‘Cause I only witnessed it a few times.

I never went to class. I went to class less than half of the time. My Alma Matter was a U.C., so classes were large enough that you could get stay enrolled and not have a professor notice that you, as one among 300, were not in attendance. There were a couple quarters where I honestly attended no more than 10 class periods, and that includes the classes where a final, or midterm had to be taken, or turned in.

When classes were so large, class discussion is neither encouraged, or even a particularly good idea. My one professor who graded on class participation had his lectures routinely degrade into a cloud of raised hands, followed by comments or questions which were either overtly manufactured, or elucidative of a declining admissions standards to my Alma Matter. I dropped that class. If I was to be forced to attend a class, I wanted to be required to listen to the well-learned academic in the front of the class. But a mandatory participation requirement resulted in me being required to endure 120 minutes of commentary motivated not by inspiration or intellect, but of a self-interested desire to talk.

I was not a particularly good student. I didn’t do any of my reading more than few days before a test, or a paper was due. And for some reason, the classes were structured to allow success with that sort of study regimen. Granted, Political Science is the sort of subject that shouldn’t require more than a regurgitation fo a few simple concepts in order to express competency, but I was always in awe over how simple it was.

To be sure, my grades were not stellar. I pulled a few A’s from class where I attended no lectures. But all in all, I graduated with a 3.3 GPA, far lower than I really should have been able to muster. If I had bothered to go to lecture, or left enough time after a paper to reread it and make sure that it covered all of the relevant topics, then I can’t imagine that I wouldn’t have earned a higher academic record.

But I understand law school won’t be like this. In fact, a rigorous academic schedule is something I’m worried about. I’ve never done it before. I’ve always been able to skate by, secure in the knowledge that while I won’t necessarily earn the highest academic marks, I’ll make up for that laziness with success in some standardized test score, or extracurricular or professional component to my resume. But in law school, even the choice extracurricular and professional opportunities have a significant display of academic performance as a prerequisite.

My own unproven ability to keep up a demanding study schedule is my primary anxiety about attending law school.

My current plan here is to start putting myself into a mental place where I am comfortable with the idea of sinking into a routine of constant studying and lecture attendance. The only practicing Harvard/ Stanford grad I know suggested that I ignore all non-academic extracurricular activities during my freshman year. I probably couldn’t stomach such a complete withdrawal from schmoozing, but I definitely plan to limit any such involvement. The lawyer in question was elected president of his law school student body, so I assume he managed to succeed in having friends, in addition to securing the grades necessary to find a clerkship and a job at Luce Forward.

I really should have a funny, self-effacing, and disarming comment about a future study plan, but I can’t come up with one. Something like “well, maybe I’ll just give up early and try to marry one of the smart girls who’ll someday be able to pay all my debts off,” but that just doesn’t seem to fit today.

I am not a lawyer or law student

Yesterday after work, I drove home with the windows down. It was a beautiful hot day with an almost tangible quality to still warm air.

I got out early, and was quite sure that I’d spend the afternoon and early evening reading in my back yard. With two dining room chairs pulled outside for my feet and my posterior, I read Willie Brown: A Biography, which attentive readers will recognize from a post decades ago, as my long-running reading material.

I am a slow reader, especially when pleasure is a primary motivator.

My book was accompanied by slices of a sour and pungent Irish Cheese from Trader Joes, and wedges of a mild Gouda from Henry’s Marketplace. I also poured myself an improvised diet sprite and vodka, with a fresh lime wedge for garnish. I misjudged the amount of vodka left in the bottle, and probably shouldn’t have emptied the entire remaining contents. Somehow I had the sense not to finish my drink.

I read until the sun crept behind the valley, and my cold-weary body crept upstairs for an early bedtime.

Today, however, I will forgo the simple honest pleasures of reading outside for a go at our new Xbox.

Change of Venue, ^2

I’ve decided to move back out of the bathroom.

I don’t like the mix of feeling hungry with cold porcelain.

The strangest part of this little experiment is that my power strip feels more out of place on the bathroom tiles than does my Dell Optiplex SX270.

This blinking cursor is taunting me for not writing anything. I condemn it.

Damnit. There it went again.

Commitment

Today I will commit to Georgetown.

I’ve written the $250 check for a deposit, and it’s in an envelope that’s sealed and ready to go.

Another check for $100 is in another envelope to put me into the housing lottery for the GULC dorms. Because I will only know about ten people in the D.C. area, I figured on-campus housing would be a quick and easy way to meet people. Anyhow, I liked dorm-life at my Alma Matter.

Funny thing though: I sealed both of these envelopes on Sunday, and I’m not putting them in the mail until tonight, for pickup tomorrow morning. I suppose I’m allowing for NYU or Columbia as much time as possible to respond to my appeal letters. I am being ridiculous.

Also, for the record, I’m still planning to chuck my $350 sent to Georgetown if I get into NYU or Columbia. I’m not entirely sure why yet. Nearest I can tell, I want to be the most political and schemey guy in my class, and I probably fear that I wouldn’t be so in a place like G–Town. I am being ridiculous. Still. Perhaps more ridiculous than usual.

I need [get] to choose a laptop.

At my undergraduate graduation party, I was given a little homemade gift certificate from my father which read: “Good for one laptop.” This is the first time I will have been given a new computer in seven years.

The last computer I was given, a desktop assembled at a neighborhood computer store, is indeed still operating at home as my primary device. Its insides, however, are almost completely different from their origins, with maybe three generations of motherboards, hard drives, video cards and sound systems. Only the case and a few of the drives are vintage.

The plus-side of having a piecemeal PC whose case is left exposed to the elements for want of missing screws, is that I’ve become somewhat adept at troubleshooting and self-installation. The downside of the situation is that my crappy computer is a piece of crap crap and I’m always having to fix its crappy crappery.

Since I’m told that a laptop is necessary to success in law school, and at GULC, a prerequisite to enrollment, Dad graciously added this enormous expense onto the cost of hosting my graduation party.

I asked him about how much I had to spend, and his answer was “no more than $2,000.” I was particularly surprised with this figure, because my dad’s the kind of guy who typically will generally choose the cheaper of two options, even if it means spending more in the long run on fixes, or being genuinely dissatisfied with his purchase as a whole.

I’ve been looking around, and it looks like there isnt’ a laptop in the world that completely meets my specifications.

• It has to be light, like below 4 lbs, and below 3 if possible.


• It has to have 512MB of RAM, and at least a 20GB HD, but probably more is better [I’m a pack rat]


• It needs to be battery efficient and fast, so a Pentium M, 1GZ is the minimum.
  
• Similar to the bullet above, it needs to have a long battery life, at least 4 hours on one charge, even if that means using an extended-life battery


• Laptop in question needs to be WiFi and Bluetooth capable


• The laptop really should use 802.11G, and the Bluetooth ought to be built-in, not on some dongle or similarly useless extremity.


• Laptop needs to have a docking station so I don’t have to throw away my deliciously large monitor and ergonomic keyboard


• The laptop needs to be fun enough that I’m so excited to use it, that the toil of my 1L curriculum will seem like a summer vacation whenever I get to use my beloved new computer


• I covet a Tablet PC. I don’t know why exactly, I just do.

The IBM X40 looks pretty swell, but it’s a little expensive, has no built-in Bluetooth, and isn’t a Tablet.

Dell’s 300M looks pretty nice too, but it’s a Dell, also has no Bluetooth, and is sadly not a Tablet. Law students I know retell Dell horror stories about the frequency of breakdowns, and the trials of navigating their customer support system. My corporate IT guy boss likes them though, but I don’t know if this company puts its laptops through the same kind of daily motions I plan to.

The HP Tablet is what I really want, but when you include the optional keyboard and 802.11G card, it’s like $2,500, and it STILL doesn’t have Bluetooth.

Change of Venue

I’m blogging from within the office bathroom. My boss looked suspicious when I made the three trips necessary to transport my desktop, monitor, and peripherals from my desk to my new “cubicle,” but office etiquette prevented him from asking too personal of questions from me.

Some smells should be unpleasant

I just stepped into our office bathroom for reasons you should be able to deduce.

I was immediately taken aback by an uncomfortably pleasant smell permeating the room. It seemed to come from no where in specific, but made me think of a well-catered wedding held on an outdoor summer night. The bathroom contains a wall-mounted scent-spraying device which periodically belches a misty fragrance, which I had noticed before. But for some reason, its odor has changed, and I find myself longing to return to the bathroom for reasons I am not able to deduce.

Workers Unite!

AFL-CIO Law School Union Summer looks pretty swanky.

I’m thinking about applying to join the program after my 1L, especially if the Kerry campaign, and with it, my chance to work in the White House, doesn’t last past November.

I’m not from a Union family. And as my parents are both Republicans, I don’t know why the whole Union schtick seems so appealing for me, but it does. I defiantly don’t ever want to do any blue-collar labor, ever. Ever. Well, I guess precinct walking and phone banking could be considered blue-collar (they requires no formal education, requires a skill, and it uses one’s body), but those activities are just accessory to the wider political hobby. But the idea of a [co-ed] fraternity of brothers [and sisters, and intersex, and gender dysphoric persons] fighting for their collective rights against an increasingly corporatist and impersonal world sounds downright epic.

Editor’s Note: I am trying to educate you. It's hard to keep all the PC dialouge up if you don't know the terminology.

So here I am, looking at labor law and activism as a possible career plan. Here’s how it’ll play out:

Step One: Attend prestigious law school

Step Two: Apply to, be accepted into, and participate in AFL-CIO Law School Union Summer

Step Three: Return to prestigious law school and pursue curriculum which includes classes by prestigious Labor Law faculty

Step Four: Take pitifully low-paying summer associate job with small firm in home town which has lucrative exclusivity contracts with local labor organizations
Editor’s Note: This firm exists. I’ve been to their website, but have lost it for the moment.

Step Five: Return to prestigious law school and continue pursuit of curriculum which includes classes by prestigious Labor Law faculty while dating all the fly militant liberal honeys

Step Six: Graduate prestigious law school

Step Seven: Return to local small firm in home town, make name for myself as fiery and intimidating defender of workers’ rights; continue dating all the fly militant liberal honeys

Step Eight: Volunteer my time coordinating political activities with local union organizations whose trust I have gained through the execution of Step Seven

Step Nine: Marry rich liberal Congressperson’s daughter

Step 10: Through contacts gained from rich liberal Congressperson’s daughter, get hired by state-wide or national Union to be high-priced lobbyist strong arm and be both feared and respected throughout the land

I think it’s a sound plan.

Errata

We here at The Neo Tokyo Times would like to express our regret for an editorial ran in last Sunday’s edition. The article titled “Why the City Council should be unplugged,” was taken by some to imply that our newspaper was advocating for the death of several members of the Neo Tokyo City Council whose life functions are supported by cybernetic implants.

While the text of the article did clearly detail the true intent of our editorial, we sincerely regret our choice of words for the article's headline.

We do, however, wish to affirm our intended message from the article in question, and restate our opposition to the policy of the City Council which allows for Neo Tokyo’s electrical grid to be generated from the psychic anger of prepubescent incarcerated telekinetic meta-humans.

Crucial Atkins Update:

The bacon vinaigrette wasn’t that good. I think I put too much sweetener (splenda) in it. Also, it just wasn’t very good. It was smokey, and that was an interesting flavor for a salad, but alas, I have failed.

The pollo asada was good though. But I’ve made that before.

Cooking

Right now I'm going downstairs to make this:

Recipe from "New New Orleans Cooking", by Emeril Lagasse and Jessie Tirsch. Published by William and Morrow, 1993.


Warm Bacon Dressing:
3 slices bacon, chopped
1/2 teaspoon chopped garlic
2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
1 1/2 teaspoons tomato paste
1/4 cup red wine vinegar
1/4 cup sugar
1/2 cup canola oil
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

In a medium skillet, cook the bacon over medium-high heat until the bacon begins to brown, about 4 minutes. Add the garlic and cook, stirring, for 30 seconds. Add the mustard, tomato paste, vinegar, and sugar, and cook, stirring, until the sugar is dissolved, about 1 minute.
Transfer to a food processor or blender, and puree. With the machine running, slowly add the oil in a steady stream and process until thick. Add the salt and pepper, and pulse once or twice to blend. Serve warm.

Yield: 3/4 cup

I'm going to put the dressing on a bed of spinach leaves, topped with paper thin sliced red onions, gorgonzola cheese crublems and chopped toasted walnuts.

On the side, I’ll have a thigh of pollo asada, topped with shredded Mexican cheese, habanero sauce, and of course, more thinly sliced red onions.

Who says Atkins can't be satisfying?

I *Heart* [My Alma Mater]

In case you didn?t figure this one out, I?m still madly in love with my undergraduate Alma Matter.

I only graduated last Spring, but most of my friends are still students there, and those who are not are similarly recent alums. I?ve ended up spending a lot of time on campus. My alumni gym membership brings me to campus almost every day, and my role with the California Young Democrats kept me there to help coordinate John Kerry?s speech, and the revival of the on-campus college dems organization.

About a month ago I spent an evening advising a student government presidential candidate on her upcoming runoff election. That was fun, for reasons described in the earlier post, and I don?t think I?ll ever get over how flattering it is to have someone ask for my political advice.

In addition to being an amateur politico in student government, I was the Editor-in-Chief of the campus humor paper. It was a fake newspaper, sort of like the Onion, but closer in composition to The Michigan Every Three Weekly.

I?ve spent most of my year off trying to beef up my political repertoire, and while that?s included recruiting old student government colleagues to volunteer with local campaigns, I really haven?t interacted much with my old friends at the humor newspaper. Part of that is admittedly intentional. I don?t want to be a regular and subversive affront to the paper?s new Editor.

But this weekend I fulfilled my traditional responsibility as former Editor and visited the twice-quarterly production with gifts of Tiramisu and cream puffs. Its part of my ?list of things to do? before I leave town.

I?m leaving town for law school. I grew up right next to my undergraduate Alma Matter and have spent the year between college and law in the same city. I?m ready to leave, at least for a while, and I didn?t even apply anywhere in Southern California. But beyond any desire to spread my vestigial wings a little, I love my town, and there?s a lot I haven?t bothered to do here.

So I've made a list of all the things I want to do before I skip town:

Wine tasting in Temecula

Eat at every sushi restaurant in town

Happy Hour at Sassafras's

Eat a California Quesadilla Especial from La Posta

Go to a jazz bar

Day trip to Mexico

Meet the new [humor paper] staff

Sail out my pre

paid hours at the bay

Go to the Australian Pub, one more time

Eat shepard's pie at the Field and drink a Guinness

Join a rockin' jam

band.

Eat small plates at Cafe W

Small Plate

Gorge myself at Hash House a Go Go

Get tapas at Costa Brava

Happy hour at Z’calo Grill

So I met the new staff of the humor newspaper. That was fun. The new people were actually a lot funnier than a first year staff typically is. I broke in three classes of freshmen during my tenure, but these folks were great. I guess some of their ability is a product of their having been on staff for a full six months now, but reguardless, I was impressed.

Also fun: I contributed to the top ten list writing. That was always one of my favorite activities. I always thought I was pretty good at coming up with items for the lists myself, but I was particularly good at identifying other people?s ideas that could be reworded to fit the format of the lists. I?ve always been a better editor than writer.

I didn?t write a full list during my several hours at production. In fact, I don?t think more than three half-lists actually were written. But here are a few items I came up with, which I think were petty funny:

Top Ten Things that Are Really Under Your Bed:

8. Your parents, in the kitchen, deciding to get a divorce
4. A pool of fresh urine

I sometime wonder if in law school, I?ll want to publish a fake law review. That might be a lot less funny than a fake newspaper.

Have Babies

Slithery D and Class Maledictorian are having an e-fight over whether or not they’re gonna have kids together. He wants to have lots of babies, she is not so inclined.
That’s cute.

I don’t know if they’ve even met. Hmmmm… well... e-love's not as cute, but still.

I’m 23. I assume you all are near that age, though probably a few years older. I’m not entirely sure that we can “decide” in our mid to late 20’s that we’re not going to have kids. I can “plan” to have or not have children, but to decide might be premature.

Okay, you can decide, but I guess I’m trying to say it’s not wise. I’m a big opponent of marrying this early in life because the things we want out of the rest (majority) of our lives are likely not known to us. Maybe having kids is a much more permanent change in your life than marriage in this day and age, but still, marriage is not even under consideration for me, because the things that I find interesting in a woman may well be different as I’m nearer adulthood.

BTW: Adulthood is that status I expect to acquire a few minutes before dying of old age.

I believe that at some point I’ll want kids. I’m planning my life (going to law school immediately, getting all of my political cred in early), with that in mind. But perhaps I will change my mind.

I know a fair number of women who claim to never want children, and while I respect that, I usually counter their life-plans with a suggestion to allow for the possibility that they may well change their mind.

Interestingly, however, I only know women who don’t want to have children. All the boys seem to be eager to see others bear their progeny to term. I wonder what that’s about?

Gmail

Oooooh. I just got a Gmail account. You can probably get one too if you use blogger. Go to blogger.com, and if you’re a regular updater, you’ll see a link on the upper right that lets you sign up.

I’m really excited about never throwing away useless email. I love being a pack rat.

Now if only google would let me digitally search through all of the crap in my room when I need to find a spare toothbrush.

New York, New York

I heard back from NYU and Columbia last night. Both of their letters, thick and small, on a pile next to the door.

I opened NYU’s first, because it was thicker and I had a better statistical chance on getting in. Also, one of my letters of recommendation came from a Tilden-Root scholar alumnus of NYU Law.

I was waitlisted.

Columbia said the same thing, but since they’re Ivy League, they called it “on reserve.”

Also in my pile was a letter from Northwestern. It was from someone in the International Law faculty, talking his school up, and encouraging me to enroll. I didn’t send them my financial aide information, because I know I’m not going to go to Chicago over DC (Georgetown). But I haven’t told them to stop soliciting me.

Northwestern is that homely girl who always gets drunk at your parties. You will never sleep with her, but you are too selfish to tell her that the attention she pays you is not worth her time.

Boy was that melancholy.

I sent appeal letters to Columbia and NYU out this morning. Now I need a supplementary letter of recommendation. Should I ask my temp boss? Will he tell them that I spend most of my day reading web logs?

Blogging

So the problem with a pseudo anonymous blog is that I can’t put everything up here. For example, particular sections of my social life are not fair game for this forum.

But this whole blogging thing is supposed to be an exercise in communicating my thoughts. Even if I only get a small number of hits to this site a day, the mere possibility that others can read what I’ve written is tantamount to communication. The writing I do that is not shared with the world is not communication. It’s documentation, but that is all.

I ended up writing a five page synopsis of my weekend here at work, even using fake names and using the words “Alma Matter” to describe the university where I was an undergrad. But I’m not posting it on this blog. It will not be read by anyone. I do not know its function.

I suppose I just wanted to flesh out some thoughts, and practice putting my experiences into text.

At first I tried to write a blog entry for the weekend’s events, but I just couldn’t find a way to adequately express my thoughts on the matter while still shielding myself and the other parties from possible public scrutiny.

I guess there’s just no way to share with people your Saturday night spent kidnapping orphans and throwing them off a damn.

UPDATE: I'm kidding! Sheeesh.

Great Weekend

I had a great weekend. The details of which will not be released until well after my death.

I love articles like this

Oooooh. THIS is what I was waiting for.

It’s a profile on the warring factions within the John Kerry campaign. I didn’t know a lot of the names, but I had sort of gotten the feeling that this was going on.

I’m going to predict here that Kerry’s campaign will be remembered in history as an over-thought amalgamation of previous campaigns with the affect of duplicating none of their successes.

Still, with Iraq and the economy, Kerry just might win. I hope he does, but I just don’t see any of the unique innovations that every presidential campaign needs to have in order to win. I guess Michael Whouley’s part in Iowa was pretty stellar, but that’s just Whouley being Whouley, if you believe the article.

The Kerry campaign routinely fires off “War Room” style retorts to Republican attacks, but in the last couple of weeks, with the Bush team being more concerned with the deteriorating situation in Iraq, and refocusing on Israel/ Palestine, Kerry’s folks are left with only their tepid policy speeches.

Kerry needs a message. I’m easily the billionth person to say this. The question to why there isn’t a message is the most interesting topic at the moment. Perhaps the warring factions in the above article are still trying to hammer one out.

I think this “wait till consensus” plan on Kerry’s part is problematic. I understand that he has a reputation for considering all angles before making a final decision, but this isn’t a vote. This is an election. You have to have an idea for people to latch on to.

If I were an optimist, I’d suggest that Kerry’s hesitation on a message is a strategic ploy to hold off on a cohesive message until later in the cycle, when the issues Iraq and the Economy are more clearly defined. You can’t run on a message consisting of “the war in Iraq was bad,” if Iraq starts to stabilize. Same with the Economy.

But I’m not an optimist. Kerry should just co-opt the “two Americas” line from Edwards, or the “Stand up for America” line from Dean. Then run with it. They’re good lines. Everyone likes them.

I have no reason to complain

I know an awful lot of pre-laws who are applying this year. With the exception of perhaps two people, I’ve been admitted to better schools. One friend got a 180 and is Harvard-bound, and another applied earlier, had better grades, and her LSAT was not much less than mine. I think she’s settled on NYU. (I’m still waiting for NYU’s response, but their silence this late in the game is a dark portent.)

But virtually EVERYONE else I know bombed their LSATs, performing much lower than they expected, and are headed to regional schools, or third tier backups.

My surprise LSAT put my applications above most of my peers, and far past where my grades should have leashed them. The situations are unfair. But I’m not entirely sure if I’m successfully interacting with the friends who got into worse law schools than I did.

A couple people I know make somewhat regular, and uncharacteristic comments about my “winning the LSAT lottery,” or how they’d be “getting into a good school if [they’d] lucked out on the LSAT, too.” I definitely don’t disagree with their assessment. My LSAT was a lot of luck, and the system is unfair and biased toward test-takers, as opposed to those who may have worked harder at their grades.

But I’m a little concerned that they’re a little angry at me. I’m not entirely sure what to do about it.

One tactic I’ve tried is not talk about it. I never offer what schools I’ve gotten into when talking to anyone. I answer when asked, but I don’t offer. I’m asked, usually, but then I tend to omit the safety schools I got into, for fear of mentioning a school I’ll not attend, that for other circumstances they will not be either.

I’ve also been trying to display positive support for my friends. I’m congratulatory when I find out where they’re in at, and I encourage them to write appeals when they lament a rejection. “There’s nothing to lose by writing an appeal.” My friend are mostly the proactive A-types, who’d feel better doing something than waiting for things to be done to them. I think that’s good advice. I followed it.

One friend who’s waitlisted at a safety where I was admitted complained that I hadn’t already notified them of my intention not to attend there. I was a little surprised, but he was right. He also asked that I mention him for consideration in my notification. I’m basically writing a letter for recommendation for him, with a prefacing paragraph about my intention not to enroll there.

But I’m still not sure if there’s anything else I should be doing. I think they’re mad. And I think they’re a little mad at me. I don’t blame them. I got into better schools despite my lesser commitment to academic success during our common undergraduate years. I’m mad that there’s a system that allows such inequity, but I’m admittedly less mad than they are on this topic.

I don’t blame them for anger they may feel toward me. I want to be happy for Justin Timberlake, but I’m actually a little mad that someone other than myself is dating Cameron Diaz. [Note: I’m sure this is the last time I’ll every compare myself to Justin Timberlake.] But human emotions are difficult to direct, and anger at a situation is often spread around to people involved, even if only slightly.

No one seems to be interested in breaking off a friendship over this, but I’m not used to being in a position of superior opportunity to my peers, as I hang around with people who are generally smarter than me. Most of the blogosphere seems to be at Ivy League or similar-quality institutions. I’m curious how the rest of you dealt with getting into better quality schools than your peers. Comments would be wonderful, as well as emails to neotokyotimes@yahoo.com

UPDATE: I hope that didnt' sound like a complaint. I'm going to Georgetown, or perhaps an even better ranked school. I've been riding an "I'm so happy I could spit" wave for quite a while. I've tried to keep the actual spitting to a minimum.

School Girls are Awesome

This article reports that a gang of catholic school girls chased down a flasher, tackeled, and beat him till police arrived.

The article fails to mention that this outcome likely far exceeded the flasher’s wildest desires.

How to Succeed in Business

This is a great story about a businessman who knows how to reward those who made him rich.

I don?t know if it?s a model for others, but it?s certainly warming to the heart.

Also, it looks like I ought to get a job wherever this guy works and wait around for another round of his bonuses.

NYU, Suckah

A friend of mine just got his NYU rejection letter in the mail yesterday. He turned in his app a full month later than me.

I expect my rejection letter today. But you know what? I’m glad. I’m excited! I may throw a party.

‘Cause now I can appeal their asses.

I much prefer pointless action to waiting for potentially nothing.

Low Carbohydrate Semi-Home Made Chili (without beans)

1 Can of Chili Con Carne Without Beans
2 Tablespoons of Cream Cheese
1 Pinch of Cayenne Pepper
2 Teaspoons of Chili Powder
1 Tablespoon of your favorite hot sauce
2 Tablespoons of chopped red onions

Optional Topping:

4 leaves of fresh basil, shredded
2 tablespoons of bleu cheese

Directions:

Combine Chili and cream cheese in sauce pan over medium. Break up cream cheese to help it melt. Add cayenne pepper, chili powder, hot sauce, and half of your onions. Stir frequently to help melt cheese. When cream cheese completely melts, poor into serving bowl and sprinkle with remaining onions. Add optional toping from above.

Blog Blog Blog

So I’m not doing anything at work. Today I was asked to come in for half time, because otherwise I would have spent the entire day not doing anything.

This way, at least I got to go to the DMV and buy a nighttime parking pass from my Alma Mater. Whooo.

Also, I’ve gotten pretty adept at crafting breakfast burritos in low carbohydrate tortillas. I credit my 40 hour a week lifestyle, and the absence of anything else to eat for any meals.

Recipe as follows:

3 Eggs
2 Strips of Bacon
2 Tablespoons of Jack Cheese
Your favorite hotsauce, preferably stolen from your favorite Mexican restaurant

Beat eggs together in a small bowl with two to three tablespoons of water, set aside. Slice 2 strips of bacon into bitesized pieces and reduce on medium heat in a sauce pan. Pour out bacon grease, but leave reduced bacon in pan. Add eggs to bacon, scramble by delicately folding cooked eggs.

When eggs are cooked, transfer eggs and bacon into a whole wheat tortilla. Sprinkle shredded jack cheese over bacon and eggs. Fold tortilla at ends, and wrap tightly. Wet the inside of the tortilla’s exterior flap and press it against the body of the burrito. Place moistened flap side down on pan at medium heat. Turn after browning. Eat with hot sauce.

The Gym

I’ve been going to the gym now for the last 14 days. I missed last Friday and this Monday, but otherwise, it’s been consistent.

I’ve been doing about 45 minutes of cardio each day, and lifting on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays.

For the first week, I was feeling great. I was waking up refreshed, feeling much less tense than usual, and generally enjoying the experience.

But on Monday, it started to change. I’m exhausted. I want to sleep for 12 hours. Last night I slept for 9. I think this happened to me the last time I started a gym regimen. I’m hoping that it’s just a hump I need to get over.

I really don’t know of any biological reason to start feeling this way, however. My diet hasn’t changed. I don’t think I’m losing weight faster than I was before (I lost 3 lbs. the first week.) I think last time this happened I believed that the fatigue was due to my catching a cold, and I stopped going to the gym.

I’m writing this to tell you that I’m not quitting, and to ask that you keep me honest by regularly asking me about my gym-ular habits. I promise that this post is not a veiled attempt at reducing my already limited readership.

What's going on in New York?

I called NYU and Columbia on Monday to ask about the status of my applications.

NYU said that a decision had been reached, and that I should expect something within two weeks. That is, of course, no news whatsoever, because they say in their application that they’ll let people know by the end of April.

I believe it’s fair to say that since my applications were turned in mid-December, a response this late is quite likely a rejection.

[Begin Rant]

BUT, Columbia said they haven’t even made a decision. WHAT? What’s wrong witht these folks? I know it’s going to be a waitlist! Just give it to me so I can appeal it!

Gargh!!!

[End Rant]

Appeals are Out

I sent my appeal letters out today.

I’m I appealed my waitlist status at U Penn, Cornell, Davis, and Hastings. I’m not appealing to U of M. U Chicago also put me on hold status, but they require a special second essay. I’m not appealing to Michigan because I don’t want to go to Michigan over Georgetown, so I’m not appealing them. Same with Chicago.

I’m appealing Harvard, Boalt and Stanford, on principle. They won’t find my letters persuasive, but it only took a few more minutes to change the form letter to include their names, and I think I can afford the $.37 it took to mail them.

For the record, I don’t want to go to Davis or Hastings over Georgetown either. But c’mon, I got into Georgetown! Why the heck did Davis and Hastings waitlist me!? A friend suggested to me that they probably waitlist the people they assume have the scores to go to a better place, and their auto-waitlist is a counter to those who apply there as a safety school. I’m basically testing this theory by expressing to them a false desire to attend their schools. Also, there’s a remote possibility that I’ll fall madly in love with an attractive woman with plans to live near Davis or San Francisco, in which case maybe I’ll want to keep here in California. There is also the similarly remote possibility that the aforementioned fictional woman would fall in love with me.

At Easter brunch/lunch/dinner (I don’t know what you call your only meal for the day, especially when it’s served at 3:00 P.M.), I told my extended family on my dad’s side that I was planning to go to Georgetown.

My dad’s got an MBA from National University’s night program, and he’s the most educated person in the family. With a J.D., I’ll take that distinction. There are a few Ph.D.’s on my mom’s side, but I think it was safe to say that the family on dad’s side were impressed. “You got into Georgetown!?” was the blanket response.

They were even more impressed (and more surprised) with the possibility that I might be attending an Ivy League institution. That furthered my resolve to get these appeals through. I wonder if you can appeal an appeal. Would doing so display a tenacity and willingness to exhaust every available option to secure success?

Here’s my proposed appeal of an appeal:

To Whom It May Concern:

Please accept this appeal to the decision not to grant my formal appeal to the decision not to admit me to [Law School’s Name] for the Fall of 2004.

My secondary appeal is based on my belief that I would fit in nicely at [Law School’s Name], as evidenced by the enclosed materials.

Along with this letter, please find a life-sized cardboard cutout of me wearing a [Law School’s Name] sweatshirt.

Sincerely,

Editor, Neo Tokyo Times

I think I’ll use my real name though. Probably.

Things I want to Buy When I’m a High Profile Trial Attorney:

#1: I’d like to go to the nearest high school in an Asian American neighborhood and pay the auto shop class to deck out a Honda like it was gonna race for the affections of all the fly Asian girls in town. Then I’m gonna race it to win the affections of all the fly Asian girls in town.

#2 I’m going to hire a personal shopper who’ll dress me so well that everyone will assume that I’ve hired a personal shopper.

Summer Associates BBQ at The Firm

*Note: The Firm is the fictitious future law firm I will start with all of my current pre-law friends. It’s gonna be awesome.

[Summer day backyard BBQ. Crowd of about 20. All in business suits.]

Steve: Nice BBQ boss. I really like these low-carbohydrate hamburger buns.

Me: Thanks Steve. I really hate them. But they keep me thin-ish.

Steve: Yeah. Actually that’s what I meant. They taste like cardboard.

Me: That’s how you know they’re working.

Steve: And you don’t think their health value is at all countered by the pound and a half of sizzling steerburger you’re plopping on top?

Me: No no. Atkins my young padewan. Haven’t you summer associates ever read Atkins?

Steve: Yeah. I think he died. Also, I think they came out against so much saturated fats.

Me: I do seem to recall that. Yes. But you see the bread is low in carbohydrates. Have you been over to the house before?

Steve: No, actually. Is it true you still live with guys you knew in college?

Me: Yep. They all work at the firm. It’s a lot cheaper that way, and we can carpool. And I have my own room.

Steve: Wow.

Me: Wow’s right. I paid off my law school debt in about three years.

Steve: Three years! Wow. That is great. And all you had to do is live like you were in as much poverty as you were throughout school?

Me: Yep. It’s not so bad either. I mean, we even had money left over to buy a keggerator.

Steve: Yeah, I saw that. I had one of those in undergrad.

Me: You miss it now don’t you.

Steve: Not really. Now I usually go out to fancy bars now and spend a lot of money buying drinks for gold digging secretaries from rival firms. Those girls are hot!

Me: Oh yeah? I mostly date women from the local College Democrats. They say I throw the best parties.

Steve: You throw parties for college kids?

Me: Of course. They really know how to have fun. And it keeps me young. I mean, you don’t see me working through every weekend, do you?

Steve: No, but you’re wearing a suit at a BBQ.

Me: So are you, Steve-O.

Steve: You and the other partners emailed it out as a requirement.

Me: Yeah, but I’m also wearing sandals. I’m the king of comfort.

Steve: You only own suits, don’t you?

Me: [Sobs]

My Site as a Comment Board

Slithery D posts here about a post I made earlier on how I imagine women at law school. In his post, he references another post he made earlier about the virtues of dating boring women.

I’m posting this here because Slithery has not opted to include a comment section on his site, and I’m just vain enough to tell the world that someone quoted me somewhere, once.

Here’s Slithery’s rationale for dating the boring:

Nothing is more disturbing than maintaining a romantic relationship with someone unnaturally fixated on mountain climbing, political advocacy, or a particular art form or sporting event, particularly if she pursues her unnatural passion with unnatural talent. Whether you'll ever admit it consciously, you never really believe she finds you more interesting than her job or hobby.

Yes, it is difficult to date people who’re passionate, or charming, or otherwise “interesting,” but that’s part of the fun.

I have this rule. I only date women who are much better looking than me. It’s a terrible rule. I know. It smacks not of sexism, per se, but of elitism. It also means I don’t get to date enough. But this rule is also only a consequence of a much larger and over-arching rule.

I am attracted to women who are demonstrably better than me. That means I like taller women. Smarter women. Women who play (any) sports. Writers, artists, doctors and activists are all on my list of people who have some characteristics that I am unable to boast. I especially like women who are charming and funny, and whose charisma, among other qualities, effortlessly captures the attention of everyone in the room. I’ve been known to keep the attention of a room, but I’ve known women who were better at it than I, and I had the pleasure of dating one of them.

Of course, as Slithery points out, these women are the ones who “you never really believe [can find] you more interesting than her job or hobby.” But I think that’s great! It’s a challenge to yourself, and a validation of your worth if you can persuade someone who is so “interesting” that you are in fact interesting yourself.

A song comes to mind:

That's why, darling, it's incredible
That someone so unforgettable
Thinks that I am
Unforgettable too

So I think there are two ways to deal with the feelings of inadequacy that we all have. One way is to strive for mediocrity, and to set goals that are low enough that you won’t ever be disappointed with your accomplishments. The other way is to ask the world to give you more than you think you deserve, and see how much you can capture.

I don’t know if I’ve read a lot about ambition in dating, but there it is.

Law and Student Politics

Rick Hansen’s Election Blog has this bit about a student planning to challenge spending limits in his campus elections. I sent a little bit of info from my own electoral experience at my Alma Matter.

-----Original Message-----
From: Neo Tokyo Times
Sent: Tuesday, April 13, 2004 9:21 AM
To: Rick Hasen
Subject: Buckley at Schools

My Alma Matter (a U.C. campus) imposed spending limits on their student government for years. The U.C. Regents eliminated them system-wide within the last two years, but their rationale for having them for as long as they did was interesting.

In the years during which I ran for student office, the campus Judicial Affairs department defended spending limits because the elected offices were technically a part of the University Administration, and were therefore not considered wholly public offices.

The student governments of some U.C.’s, and I believe all of the California State University systems (the two state-wide university systems in California) have autonomous student governments that while recognized by the individual campus Administration, were not part of the Administration. Such organizations were generally named “Associated Students, Incorporated,” because they were incorporated organizations with their own separate legal identity. My campus, however, did not have an autonomous student government, and any of their decisions were under constant threat of an Administration veto, which although rarely happened, was nonetheless an expression of a subordinate role.

As I understand the reasoning for eliminating spending limits system-wide, the U.C. Regents simply wanted to protect themselves from future possible (and likely) litigation over the issue of constitutionality of spending limits, were they to continue as a part of the campus’s election mechanics.

My Alma Matter has created a voluntary spending limits program, which I believed was opted into by every candidate this year.

I do have a guilty love of student politics. I think it’s because I found that I learned so much from the actual exercise of politics, even at one of its most base and amateurish forms.

Currently, I’m reading a biography about Willie Brown, the former Mayor of San Francisco and Speaker of the California State Assembly. A great number of the characters in his early life got their first taste of politics in their college’s student government and the local and state-wide Young Democrats.

I don’t know if that experience is common in other states, but the only young people I know who I think are going to make it anywhere in politics have been those I’ve met through the Young Dem’s or student government. I know plenty of other activists or pre-laws, or even lawyers who claim to be interested in some sort of political lifestyle or career, but I don’t have much faith in them. It’s the people with a chip on their shoulder and feel the need to run for something in college, or to hobnob with the entrenched power structure of the local Democratic establishment that seem like they’ve got a plan.

My big goal for law school will be to avoid any involvement with student government for my first year. At all costs. Had I been as interested in earning grades as I was in running for student office, maybe I’d have looked like a smart person on my academic transcript.

Bribing

Marginal Revolution and Will Baude both point to this excellent article about bribing your way into fancy New York restaurants.

I like getting things I’m not supposed to. I like feeling like I know the tricks to success that others are too timid to employ. But I’m way too cheap to pay for a table. Well, “cheap” is probably less accurate a descriptor than “poor.”

Money aside, I’m probably really too timid to try this…

Blogging in Pseudo Anonymity

This is not an anonymous blog. I’ve given its address out to maybe three people. All of them were bloggers.

I haven’t told any of my non-blogging friends about this. I’m not so sure they’d understand it.

I’m not so sure I understand it. Why am I blogging?!

Okay, the simple answer to that question is that I’m bored at work. That’s true; work is boring. But wait. This isn’t at work. I’m here at home. I should be sleeping in preparation for work. Damnnit.

I suppose my desire to improve my writing ability is a major motivation. I fancy myself as something of a writer, which is basically a sign of psychosis, as I do not write much more than this blog. I suppose I believe that daily blogging will be like running laps at my neighborhood high school in preparation for a marathon.

That poor metaphor is another excellent example of why my belief that I’m a writer is proof of my only occasional participation in reality.

I usually try not to risk public criticism unless there is something to gain from it. I’m not so sure there’s something to gain from blogging. In politics and activism, the risk of public criticism is outweighed for my by the potential to achieve recognition as someone who’s a capable organizer. But I am not a capable writer, nor is there any significant recognition to be acquired from blogging.

You, fair reader, are wonderful and attractive, but is your opinion of me going to help me get a job one day?

Yes?

Oh, well then. Blog-on I shall.

Weekend

My roommate and I threw a ridiculously good party on Friday.

We’ve thrown about five parties this year, with some mixed success. While our last party was well-attended, the atmosphere seemed less collegial than I would have liked. My roommate and I came to the conclusion that our diverse groups of friends were not drinking enough alcohol to break down the natural social barriers.

So this time, we served shots.

On Friday, we set out about 10 bottles of sweet shooter liquors, limes, salt, chocolate syrup and all that fancy fun. BevMo has these great plastic shot glasses you can buy. We don’t have 60 shot glasses lying around. This isn’t a fraternity.

Also, we set up stations for other methods of getting people trashed. Upstairs in our Playstation room (yes, our 7-bedroom house has a dedicated Playstation room), we setup a cooler with Asahi and a table with glasses, sake and sake cups. If you haven’t had a Sake Bomb, then you’re a philistine.

[I am way too harsh against those who do not have a perverse appreciation for all things Japanese. Please forgive me (and please try a Sake Bomb.)]

In the kitchen, we filled half the sink with ice and cans of Guinness. Next to that, we had baileys and whiskey for people to make Irish Car Bombs. Those went really fast.

About a half an hour into the affair, we had gotten everybody in the house to pound at least two shots, and they set a great example for those who came later. There were no problems with groups intermingling.

Sleeping Across Party Lines

Three Years of Hell writes about his willingness to date across party lines.

Shameless Partisan Quip: Of course a self-identified conservative enjoys dating liberals; we’re more attractive.

That being needlessly said, I don’t disagree with his rationale. And I commend his prowess for persuading necessarily attractive young(?) liberals to pay him attention. I do believe that one can be attracted to, love, and in fact respect the opinions of people who disagree with them politically. In fact, I think an ability to do so is a sign of intelligence and self esteem.

But as a partisan Democrat, I do not often consider myself attracted to Republicans. Why? Well, just as it is true with Democrats, Republicans generally are incapable of understanding or appreciating another’s political ideology. At lest with Democrats, I can gloss over that inability to empathize and instead enjoy the comfort of agreement.

It would be a lot easier to date a Republican if my political opinions did not make up such a strong portion of my personal identity. But I would certainly be interested in the kind of rare Republican who disagreed with Affirmative Action, let’s say, but also agreed that the current state of under representation in public education was in fact a problem that deserved some other public policy solution.

That’s my problem with most partisans as a whole. They’re unwilling to even concede that the other side has a valid objective, despite any policy disagreements. Most Democrats want to make sure that workers are protected from unjust treatment by management, but they don’t often concede that business owners need to have some amount of protection or leniency in order to encourage economic activity, or to keep jobs here in the states.

While I’d probably prefer to date someone who can rationally appreciate both sides of political issues, such persons are rare. It’s probably just easier to be with someone who agrees with your politics.

In relationships, it’s difficult enough to defend my positions on leaving the toilet seat up, or sleeping with strippers, without having to worry about defending my pro choice views and support for Affirmative Action.

Editor’s Note: I’m just kidding about that stripper part.

The Appeals Process

I have an appeal letter all ready to send out to the schools that have rejected or waitlisted me.

I'm really interested in U Penn and Cornell, where I'm waitlisted. I'll appeal over at Harvard/ Stanford/ Boalt too, but I'm quite confidant that I won't get into them. But it's just the price of a stamp, right? They'll be appeals on priciple, as I like to call them.

The big problem is that NYU and Columbia, the two highest schools on my "reasonable to hope for" list haven't said yes or no yet.

I'd really like them to get the rejection letter out to me so I can appeal its ass.

It would be tactically unwise to send a preemptive appeal letter, right? I thought as much.

Look(s) at Law Schools

Does anyone else rank their law school preferences by the attractiveness of their students?

Are there any published resources by which I can determine the schools that enroll the most attractive people?

Look at Penn. They’re not bad looking, but take a gander over there at Cornell. Life in Ithaca doesn’t seem so bad now, does it?

I joke amongst friends that all of my low-carb and gym-attending lifestyle is geared toward impressing an attractive future spouse at law school. I’m usually only half-kidding. Okay, I’m not kidding at all.

My brief (and current) foray into the adult working world has given me a bit of a reality check when it comes to the availability of intelligent single people. There aren’t many of them. Single women were an ever-present opportunity in college, but in the work place, they’re either married, engaged, or on a very different life-track from me. Maybe I should be content to be in a relationship with someone whose career goals are being fulfilled by the clerical duties of my own temporary employment, but I am not.

I have this perception of women at law school as being intelligent, personable (ie: unskilled at math), and single. If I go to a national law school, which I will, then few students will be living with their parents, or boyfriends, or *gasp* husbands. Right?

Right.

So when I was looking through NYU’s bulletin last Fall, and I noticed the unreasonable number of attractive women highlighted, I was very impressed. I still am. Cornell has a publication with similar qualities.

Do these schools make strategic decisions about who they put in their materials? They should. I got swayed. Too bad I didn’t get into NYU or Cornell. (Well, NYU still hasn’t said yay or nay, but at this late in the game, it’s a likely nay.)

What I’m trying to say here, is that I’m a shallow, shallow person. Shame on me. My current excuse is that I want to have attractive children, and my own genetics will not be sufficient toward accomplishing this goal.

[Side Note:] I was on a committee at my Alma Mater at which a campus administrator discussed the declining enrollment of men at the University. Since our committee was in charge of funding Admissions, he asked our committee’s input about what sort of proactive steps the Univeristy could do to encourage more men to apply. I think we all agreed that any “affirmative action” program for male applicants would be ridiculous, but then this administrator responded with, “Well, it could be as simple as featuring more women in our brochures.”

While this is definitely a heteronormative comment unbecoming of the liberal public institution at which it took place, it’s probably a smart idea. I was impressed.

Amateur Political Consulting as Flirting

Last night I got a call from a friend who’s managing a campaign for a mutual acquaintance running for student body president at my Alma Mater. He asked that I come to their strategy meeting and help pound out a plan for the runoff scheduled for Thursday and Friday of this week.

I was awfully flattered.

As mentioned in another post, I graduated from a large public university. While there, I ran for student body president myself, lost, but I think I made an impression on a few people with the level of organization in our campaign, and my willingness to stay involved in student government after what can only fairly be described as a humiliating public defeat.

My informal and highly unscientific analysis of student governments across the country suggest that the large, middle-class, public institutions are the most competitive contests in student politics. I’m told that Berkeley candidates rent office space, spend thousands of dollars, and almost always challenge election results in real life “adult” court rooms. My Alma Mater’s not as competitive, but it’s still a lot more involved than your fancy-pants private schools. So really, the suggestion that I had something worth offering was flattering.

I was actually going to stay home and pretend I had important emails to write, but I relented. Did I mention the flattery? I’m a sucker for kind words.

I am almost agnostic between the two student candidates who are both people I know, with mutual friends between us. I’d given one of the candidates a couple hours of advice several months ago, and they had seemed appreciative of my counsel. The other, whose campaign manager called me, never asked for any advice specifically, although she was not necessarily the type of person who readily asks for things.

While I may know a lot of people still at my Alma Mater, I definitely don’t have a group affiliation that would simply vote how I wanted them to. I probably never did. And while I could have personally talked to a fair number of people and gotten them to direct their votes to a particular candidate, I really didn’t have the time, or inclination to do so. So I basically came to the conclusion that I was willing to give advice and consultation to any of the candidates who asked for it, but that I wasn’t going to endorse or “back” any candidate.

Anywho, I went to this little “strategy meeting,” on the campus of my old Alma Mater, and found myself enjoying it a great deal.

As is the case with most rooms full of student government-types from my old Alma Mater, most of the business was subordinated to chatting, gossiping, and generally being less productive than they could have been. But that’s fine. I like a little bit of social time in with my business.

In between useless recaps of the vote tallies from other elections, and high-minded punditry as to their outcomes, I did get the campaign manager to finish a list of Resident Advisors loyal to the candidate. Campus policies make them a necessary component to door-to-door campaigning at my old Alma Matter. I had the distinct impression that they were going to make that a backburner issue before I brought it up. I had a suggestion to call the people who accompanied the Resident Advisors “Surrogates,” which is a term I’ve read in some activist emails about how to represent national presidential candidates to local groups. I think I sounded professional.

Also, I managed to convince the candidate that she needed to call a friend of hers who had lost his election that night, and ask him to help her finish hers in the runoff. She originally objected, saying that “tonight was not the night.” I countered with an anecdote I read in Hardball, basically describing Jimmy Carter calling up all the Democrats who lost their elections in 1974, and asking them to redirect their efforts and resources to his upcoming presidential bid. I didn’t convince her exactly (I didn’t expect to, she’s notably stubborn), but I convinced everyone else in the room, and they ganged up on her till she made the call.

A friend of mine who helped me rewrite my awful law school personal statement once told me I had a “knack for drawing parallels.” Let’s hope that perceived knack helps me at trial. It probably won’t.

I was feeling pretty useful really. I think that’s why I liked being there. Everything I suggested got incorporated into their plan, and while my own electoral success rate is mixed (I’ve won a couple of student elections, lost a few), the room seemed to think my points were valid and worthwhile. I guess it was validation of my own personal opinion that I’m cut out for this kind of work.

Feeling useful makes me feel confidant, and confidence makes me crack jokes. Well, in a room full of people, I usually find any state of emotion makes me want to crack jokes. I’m usually not bad at it either, but I’d do tap dances if it’d get people to pay attention to me. But I don’t tap. Not anymore. Don’t ask. I was young.

Of course, the fact that I was only one of two people in the room to have ever been a professional staffer of a legitimate campaign probably gave my opinions more credibility than their actual utility merited. But I tried to ignore this reality.

After the campaign manager started working on his list of Resident Advisors (I have no idea who holds those positions anymore), I moved over to one of the couches where some young women were drafting an email to supporters. They seemed to have been typing at it for the better part of an hour, which suggested to me that they were either not really working at it, or more likely, drawing up an enormous diatribe which no one would ever seriously consider reading.

Take for example this enormous diatribe which no one would ever seriously consider reading.

It turned out to be a little of both. The women had an ungainly outline of “issues to include,” topped with a verbose and bloated opening several paragraphs. The campaign manager’s sister was actually the one working on it, and she quickly handed it off, eager to admit a defeat by the delegated duty. [She and I take defeat in a similar way, apparently. I try to let everyone know where I fail, basically in order to prove to people that I’m not embarrassed about it. I’m probably still embarrassed about stuff like that though.]

You may find this difficult to believe, judging by the quality of this blog, but I worked as a technical writer for my Alma Mater before graduation, and I currently write press releases and newsletters for a political candidate on a part time basis. I figured I wouldn’t have too much trouble drafting a brief and direct form email to supporters, and my rapid production of such a document was met with approval by my fellow occupants on the couch.

I guess its disclosure time. I was having a really good time because I was being valued, and my jokes were being laughed at, and there were these two young attractive women who seemed to think I was at least mildly interesting. So I did my darndest to be the best amateur political consultant I could be.

I wrote a really concise and professional email because I was trying to impress some girls. Isn’t that weird? I think it is.

During Council meetings of student government at my Alma Mater, I spoke up the most often, make the most unusually successful motions, and generally was the best student senator I possibly could be when there were pretty girls in attendance.

But you know what’s more weird? I think it impressed the girls. One of them accepted an invitation to a party we’re throwing on Friday. What’s that about? I mean, seriously, she shouldn’t be encouraging me.

Update:Pretty girl in question didn't come to the party. I've been meaning to tell you all that for some time, but I never got around to it. This update was made durring my "blog scrubbing" exercise. Oh well. On the plus side, a different pretty girl came and called me after the party was over, which was well beyond flattering.

Philosophy from a Kierkegaardian Philistine

Scheherazade has this excellent post about the advantages of attending an Ivy League school.

I think she’s right.

Here’s her quote that sums it all up for me:

[You] can read in the alumni magazine about some extraordinary achievement or other and you roll your eyes and remember this idiot puking in your bathroom and think, "If this turkey can [insert extraordinary accomplishment here], good lord, it's not beyond the bounds of imagination that I can do something pretty good too."

I really think this is the key to success. I’m reading this book right now called Denial of Death, and one of the major focuses of the chapter I’m in is the work of Kierkegaard. I’m not philosopher, and I’m awfully dumb, but I’ll try to sum it up.

“Most people are too fearful of the possibility of publicly displaying their faults to attempt any challenge to assumptions of their own mediocrity.”

Here’s some smart guy’s explanation of some of Kierkegaard’s terms:

"Half obscurity" and "shut-upness." In asking about what style and strategy a person uses to avoid anxiety, Kierkegaard asks how a person is enslaved by his lies to himself about himself. This is, in different words and fifty years earlier, almost exactly what Freud later labeled "defense mechanisms" and "repression."

The "automatic cultural man" is confined by culture and a slave to it, lulled into triviality by the comfortable routines of society and the limited alternatives and dull security it offers him.

Scheherazade’s evidently a brilliant philosopher who is pointing out the ability of an Ivy League association to allow someone to break free from the assumptions of the automatic cultural man which suggest that great achievement is in fact unattainable.

As a graduate of a large middle-class public university in California, most of those who seem likely to do big things are those who have something to prove. They have a chip on their shoulder, and feel the need to challenge their background and the unremarkable lives of their family and friends.

Perhaps there are people in the world whose natural range of ability prevents them from achieving significant things in their lifetimes, but I imagine them to be few. The people I know who are motivated to succeed are rarely smarter or otherwise more able to accomplish great things than their peers. But for some reason, they are of the belief that achievement is within their range of possibility, and they make efforts toward such accomplishments.

I think that this is an essential problem in our social system today. With legal requirements for equal opportunity, the various versions of the “haves” often do not understand why the various versions of the “have nots” are not unable to obtain what they claim to want. The “haves,” however, do not understand that opportunity does not equal access, and that access for the “have nots” itself is often predicated on the belief that their abilities and intellect are sufficient to achieve within the existing framework of opportunity.

I am at a loss to explain how persons of inauspicious backgrounds come to the realization that they have a potential to achieve, but perhaps it can be a realization independent of background or privilege. I am equally unsure of how to inspire more persons to greatness, if they are not given an opportunity to view it as accessible by witnessing it amongst their peers.

Maybe we need to have some reality TV of Ivy grads “puking in your bathroom,” to let the rest of the world know see that achievement is done by people more similar to them than they might otherwise imagine.

Hold the phone. Let’s never suggest that reality programming can have any place in social construction. Or any place on TV, for that matter. My bad.

What if I Were a Character on the West Wing

I’d probably be the wisecracking bike messenger who gets hassled by the Secret Service every time I try to enter the building. Occasionally I’d say something insightful about what it means to work for a living, or about the special circumstances of student in college, and it’d be a big deal that my small observations affected national policy.

Also, my character would hit on C.J. a lot. An awful lot. At first she’d just laugh and say “Oh you character,” but then she’d totally get into it and hit back, to the sometimes awkward response of witnesses. Both characters would look forward to informal post-State of the Union office parties where the alcohol could get us past our professional and generational divides.

I’d be the only guy in the West Wing who never wore a tie.

The president would never refer to me, ever. Leo would only rarely quip about that odd bike messenger who chatted up the staff too much and tried to fit in at a place he only visited twice a week. He’d secretly love me though, because I never seemed intimidated by him.

TV critics would immediately expose me for a last-ditch effort to save the show. The unusually confidant working class bike messenger just didn’t fit into the Ivy League staffers and professional politicos. They’d also assert that my character was little more than a less-professional, male “Donna.”

The critics would also suggest that my character was not credible, as I do not own a bike, and am noticeably out of shape.

A Scene at The Firm:

*Note: The Firm is the fictitious future law firm I will start with all of my current pre-law friends. It’s gonna be awesome.

Me: Hey Steve, nice tie.

Steve: Haha. Nice try cowboy. You’re so concerned with making partner, that you’ll compliment a man for a tie he’s not even wearing!

Me: Um, Steve, I’m a founding partner. You’re a summer associate. And don’t call me cowboy.

Steve: Sure thing, rodeo clown, but with an attitude like that you’ll never make it at this firm.

Me: You know Steve, I took a chance on you. The least you could do is pretend that you’re trying to impress people around here.

Steve: Okay, cattle hand, I’ll do that. And shouldn’t you be lawyering or something? If you’re such a high and might partner, then why are you naked in a hot tub at the basement gym?

Me: Steve, I’m wearing a suit and sitting at my desk. That pretty tie must be restricting the blood to your brain.

Steve: Wrong again, vaquero partnero. It’s a holographic tie.

[Enter Security Guard]

Security Guard: Everything okay in here?

Steve: Yeah. Everything’s peachy-keen.

Security Guard: I’ll handle this Steve. What’d I tell you about loitering in the hot tub?

My Site Tracking

Shout out to Jeremy for sending me more traffic than my own merits would justify.

Now that we have dealt with the necessary pleasantries, let me admit to that little swirly planety thing over there under my blogroll. That’s an ego tracker. It lets me see how many people have visited my site. I’m ashamed that I look there. But I do look there. Often.

It’s been my experience that broadcasting aspects of my life that I find embarrassing is a good way to minimize the actual shame I feel. For one, it gives me an opportunity to see the real reactions from people when they find out the embarrassing tidbits of my life. When people are not as eager to chastise me for my faults as I imagined they could be, I usually feel better about whatever it is that I found embarrassing.

Also, honesty about failings is always a good forum for self-deprecating shtick.

Back to that ego-tracker: Another fun aspect of this little magic icon is the way it tracks google hits for my site. I’ve posted them below.

All Keywords Unique Visitors
1 33.33% law
1 33.33% school
1 33.33% rejection


Hey! (*Anger*)

Whine and Cheese

Tonight I enjoyed (am enjoying) a fine glass of wine with some expensive cheese.

Well, the cheese wasn’t really that expensive. But $5 for a small wedge is a lot for me. And a $5 bottle of wine is straight bourgeoisie, to quote an old friend.

Okay, so I’m a poor, classless pre-law. I’ve been outted. I’m so crafty sometimes even I can’t hide things from myself.

But seriously, I enjoy wine and cheese. They go great together. We had a wine and cheese party for Howard Dean a few months ago, and it was spectacular.

I know, you’re doing the math and wondering why we were still supporting Dean that late into his doomed campaign. But let me clear the air.

We called it a “Last Stand in Wisconsin Party” (see, this is where the cheese came in), but really, it was mostly a “going away party” for the governor from Vermont.

I had started a student organization at my Alma Matter to support Dean’s candidacy, and I was basically convinced that I’d never see any of the attractive attendees of our meetups ever again. Because I hate to give up on a problem, I figured I’d try to lure them over to the house with promises of alcohol and a fellow Dean supporter’s shoulder to cry on. For the record, the evening did not result in young women thanking me for my party-throwing skills with offers of sex, but it was lots of fun.

I served wine and fancy (non-cheddar) cheeses. Okay, so there was some great smoked cheddar from Trader Joes, but it was smoked, do you understand? That’s classy. Class-tacular.

So to compliment the cheese, I purchased an array of inexpensive wines, also from Trader Joes. I don’t know if the rest of you e-kids live next to TJ’s, but let me tell you, they’ve got some excellent wine for cheap. They also have some terrible wine at similar prices. Also, I bought more wine glasses.

Here’s the thing though, it was a pretty adult party. We all stayed in the kitchen and sliced expensive cheese logs, wedges and braids (yes, cheese braids), and we swirled wines while critiquing their subtler qualities.

The conversation was excellent, and the booze/food was very enjoyable relative to other college-age parties I’ve attended. But the problem with my attempts at adulthood was that few, if anyone, had a really good time. I’m sure people enjoyed themselves, but nobody got plastered. Nobody exchanged phone numbers. There just wasn’t enough booze in the air to make it happen.

I take this as a metaphore for my dwindling childhood. Sure I get to enjoy new and wonderful things like cheese and wine, but the willingness to do daring and irresponsible things in public is draining away, both from me, and the people with whom I party.

But I’m no quitter. I’m going to defy my approaching adulthood. I like solving problems. Next party will consist entirely of shots. It’s on Friday. Good Friday. It’ll be awesome. Stay tuned.

Tonight's Screenplay

“Holy crap! Someone left a comment on my blog!”

[Reads comment.]

“Holy crap! Someone left two comments on my blog!”

[Reads third comment.]

“Holy crap crap! There are like three people with comments on my blog! Three! That's more than none!”

[Wets pants.]

Editor’s Note: I’d give a more detailed description of how larger three is compared to none, but as you may have surmised, I’m off to law school in the Fall, and it was my understanding that this status excused me from ever utilizing "numbers" again.

My Contribution to the Legal Tradition

So do you think lawyers will ever need giant robot battle suits?

In case the title of this web log didn't clue you in, I have something of an affinity for Japanese culture, and the subculture of Anime specifically.

I haven't enjoyed an anime film or television series in almost four years, because as any astute critic can attest to, anime's generally crap. But there're aspects of the genre which I think are, well, awesome.

Giant robots especially.

C'mon, who wouldn't want a giant robot? I definitely wouldn't have been picked on in elementary if I had played basketball in an enormous robot exoskeleton. Camping would be lots of fun in you could just hop in your giant transforming veritech space fighter and land in the remote desert, and set up tents under the protection of a 50-foot tall bird-man in guardian configuration.

I'm not much of a sports fan, a characteristic I consider a failure on my part, but I'd definitely watch the playoffs if the linebackers were replaced with steel and plastic bipedal juggernauts. Wouldn't you? (linebacker's a sports term, right?)

And shoot, I just might join the army if I could be assigned to pilot a space-age mecha suit with jets for feet and a crafty innovation to let you pee without having to search around the battlefield for a bush.

So now that I've got you convinced that just about everything would be better were it to involve giant robots, let's get back to our mutual future practice of law.

Wouldn't it be totally sweet if lawyers had to suit up in mechanical battle armor for trial?!

Objections could me made over booming loudspeakers. Evidence would be wrapped and submitted by onboard vacuum sealers. Public defenders would appear in stripped down consumer models, while BigLaw partners would swagger in equipped with the latest military-grade hardware. And if a criminal defendant lost control and attacked his, or opposing council, he'd learn his lesson as his fists bloodied themselves on the Smart-Ceramic armor™. In fact, everyone would be better behaved, 'cause otherwise the judge would hold you in contempt with his government issue particle cannon.

Sweet doggity that'd be great! Seriously though, don't business suits just seem kind of boring nowadays?

Me, a Lawyer? No Thanks.

So I’m having a crisis of planning.

I’ve been accused of having my entire life planned out, and to a degree, those allegations are correct. I have some sense of what I want out of life, and I’m usually fairly adept at channeling my energies into achieving the goals I set out for myself. But right now I’m really having to think about what I want to do as a career, and I’m not quite sure what that is yet.

Sure, I want to be a power broker with connections, money, and influence, but that’s not a career goal, per se. It’s a goal, but one which is accomplished by knowing lots of people through whatever career I end up in.

Before I move on, let me clarify that my “power broker” aspirations are only because I think it’d help me meet and woo women.

Reading all these Blawgs of late has sort of turned me off from BigLaw. First of all, the pay’s not all that great. Sure, it’s a lot more money than I’m making now, but at what cost? If you make $125,000 the first year out, well, yah, that’s a lot of money for a 27 year old, but if you’re working 80 hours a week, then how is that really a lot of money? I know people very near my own age who make $65,000, and they work normal (sane) hours. You don’t really get that highly paid as a lawyer necessarily; you’re just expected to work the equivalent of two fulltime jobs.

And partners don’t seem to work any less. And once more, they only make about $500,000 a year. Granted, I’d be the richest person in my family(‘s history) if I made that kind of cash, but there’re all sorts of ways to make money that don’t involve an 80 hour a week schedule.

I’ve worked an 80 hour week before. Several. Heck, in college, if you added all of my extracurricular, electoral, and professional responsibilities, I probably worked them most weeks. But that’s no way to live. I go a little batty if I don’t have some time to do something creative, or to pursue a hobby, or perhaps, just perhaps, have enough time (and guts) to ask a girl out.

So my question is: how do these biglaw types do it? How do they work those hours and not quit/ kill themselves. Is it just for the money? I can appreciate that, to a degree. The older I get, and the more responsible I am for my own expenses, the more willing I am to do crappy things in order to afford more pleasures. But there’re other ways to make money.

I suppose maybe law is a field that does not require any amount of leadership skills to succeed in. Perhaps the lawyers who drown in work hours are not the sort of intelligent people who could effectively manage others. Perhaps they are the stereotype of smart lawyers who went to law school precisely because they had no talents or natural inclinations.

I dunno. I’m worried.

I’ve had some success in student government being the lone cowboy convincing the room that he was right. But that sort of trial work is often for sole practitioners, right? Big firm lawyers are research/ writing trash for the first few years, yah?

I’m thinking about getting an MBA in addition to my JD. Sure, business analysis sounds boring. Sure Corporate America’s evil. But you know what I really enjoy? Wheeling and Dealing! Whooo!

The ADR courses I read about, at Georgetown at least, is all about having people come to a mutual consensus. Well that’s all fine and dandy… for hippies maybe. I like the kind of consensus where the other guy thinks you both compromised and came to a mutual decision, and you know that you just won hands down and got everything you were trying to get. Now that’s fun.

So this is wheeling and dealing. That’s what I want to do with my law degree. Also, I want to make a lot of money. I’m tired of not having sushi for three meals a day (no, I don’t want sushi for breakfast, but I do want to be so wealthy that I can order a 4th meal of the day, and just throw it away to demonstrate my personal financial worth.) So it’s business. All the rich deal-makers are either congressmen or businessmen. And you know what? 2002 saw the biggest class of millionaires elected to congress in our nation’s history. Clearly, making some money will give you lots more political cred than being a powerful attorney, activist, or public servant.

Who am I kidding? I hate business. I’m terrible at math. I’m just gonna intern at the Daily Show after my 1L and surprise the heck out of them when I apply for a second summer.

Links? Traffic? Fame?

So why aren’t you linking to me? C’mon. The only reason I’m doing this god-awful blog thing is to feed my egocentrism and quantify the amount of interest publishing my private thoughts can generate.

Jeez. Help a brother out.

Oh, well, I guess I’m blogging to pass the time at work. Its nice here, but man, there ain’t much to do. Please don’t take that previous sentence as a complaint. I love that I don’t have much to do here. I love that I’m paid not to do much. This is exactly the kind of life I want to live right now.

Funny that all of my future ambitions and career goals don’t involve having any free time to do anything.

Election Law, Mostly

One of the several fields of law in which I’m inetersed is election law.

I was really jazzed when I discover Election Law Blog. Its got all sorts of great reviews, and lots and lots of news articles relative to the practice.

Too bad I find it all boring. I mean, I still syndicate the site, because I’m thinking maybe I’ll get into it, but so far, not yet. Kinda like me and beer. It’s an acquired taste, and I acquired it, boy howdy!

Okay, so that link I posted was about the Senate race in Illinois. The Republican might get edged out of the race entirely. It should be a really competitive race, with the possibility of the third African-American being elected to the U.S. Senate since Reconstruction. But now the Republican is getting squeezed by his ex wife and the Democrats, so maybe the tilt of the Senate will come back our way. Yay!

Also, Barack Obama, the Democratic candidate is a professor of law at the University of Chicago, so he’s smart. Smart like you.

Anyone get turned into a Democrat from this post? Anyone? Leave a comment. Please.

Top Ten Fun Things at The Firm

*Note: The Firm is the fictitious future law firm I will start with all of my current pre-law friends. It’s gonna be awesome.

10. Stripper Fridays.

9. A sushi bar in the kitchen, hosted by a mysterious Japanese man who never seems to leave, or sober up.

8. Summer Associates wear uniforms that look litigiously close to Japanese school girl outfits. (Perhaps the male Summers will dress like shirt-less Midwestern farm hands, in the interest of equality.)

7. Office Christmas parties will include family members and not involve any of the usual alcohol and debauchery at such law firm events. However, these parties will be very well attended because the partners enjoy watching the associates’ children unknowingly consume reindeer.

6. The Executive Partner will communicate only through speakerphone, and no one will ever have remembered personally meeting them.

5. Clients will get significantly discounted rates if they are rappers who travel everywhere with fly honeys.

4. Partners are issued ceremonial officer swords to wear around the office.

3. Every lawyer’s assistant will be much better looking than them, and better looking than that lawyer’s significant other.

2. The Firm’s limousine will have phatty hydraulics.

1. Stripper Thursdays.

Internet Celebs

Jeremy Blachman seems to be all over the blawgosphere. He's a student at Harvard, which is code for "smarter than me."

I'm impressed. I've only been into this blawging thing for a few weeks, and this guy's name is everywhere. Maybe How Appealing by Howard Bashman gets more consistant positive reviews from the e-community, but c'mon folks, he's like an adult, with street cred.

Anyhow, for those of you just tuning in, keep your eyes on this Jeremy character. He's funny. Maybe he'll end up joining The Firm.

Have I mentioned The Firm?

Yeah, in addition to legal work, the partners and I will co-write episodes of Law and Order. Also, per a friend's suggestion (who also aspires to joining The Firm), we're going to write a Law and Order – The Musical, and take it to Broadway. Sound fun? Yes.

I'm such a tech-nerd.

Find out about all the awesome new advances in pocket pc technology with PocketPCThoughts.com. Take this post for example:

Control a Robot Dinosaur with your Pocket PC!

Kerry *Heart* McCain

I am finding myself wanting John Kerry to convince John McCain to be his running mate.

There’s some sense in this for me. Such a coup is appealing to me as a Democrat. I want Kerry to win, and I’m willing to see him do just about anything to capture the White House. So the expected “slam-dunk” nature of this possible makes it evidently reasonable for me to find it attractive

But this McCain guy is a Republican. Even if he switched parties to join the ticket, he’s still a lot more conservative than I’d like a possible future president to be, and McCain has something of a reputation for not adjusting his personal policy preferences in the interest of political expediency.

But I have something of a streak of pragmatism in me, at least when it comes to electoral politics. I’ll take the lesser of two evils any day. I’m willing to hold my nose at the ballot box and vote for the best option left to me and not threaten a third party option just to voice my displeasure with the realities of a plurality voting system.

In 2000, I was a John McCain fan. I liked his straight-talking style. I liked that he misspoke every once in a while. I liked that his tone and demeanor seemed to talk down at the establishment pre-scripted see-through phoniness. I wasn’t much of a liberal that long ago (I’m young, that was a long time ago from my subjective reality), and while McCain often advocated for policies which I disagreed with, his style and charisma definitely won me over.

But the reasons I liked McCain are similar to my reasons for supporting Howard Dean in the recent primary. My evolving partisanship wouldn’t have allowed me to support McCain if he chose to ran in 2004, but I became a Dean fan because he provided he same sort of flagrant disregard for the moderation of his opinions.

I am concerned that I am prone to liking candidates that have no chance at wining, precisely because of the traits which make me prefer them. Both Dean and McCain had (and have) a small but significant number of dedicated followers. But their type of politicos don’t fare well in presidential contests. Despite the fact that their appearances of freshness generally result in good treatment by the media, their bravado and misspeaks lead to their downfall.

Americans want two different and conflicting qualities in their presidents. We want to elect cowboys, with charisma and courage, but we also want to elect people who are free from the everyday human propensity to error. Presidents need to be above us and rest beyond our understanding. We demand a sense of controlled aloofness in our commander in chief, and yet, at the same time we want them to be one of us, able to communicate with us, and in fact, to carry a style by which we can relate.

The Deans and McCains definitely had a plain-spoken style with which the electorate could identify. They were straight-talkers with a bent toward moderation that reflected the opinions and “good sense” of the majority of Americans. But these qualities are subordinate to their proclivity toward saying the wrong thing, or appearing in other ways as “unstable” in the eyes of the voting public.

I don’t disagree with the reasoning given for the voters’ ultimate rejection of McCain and Dean. Dean imploded on stage with CNN watching. Well, that may be an oversimplification (he imploded in Iowa the weekend before the caucus; we just got to see televised proof on election night). The Commander-in-Chief needs to be able to weather a disaster, and the electoral defeat Dean suffered shouldn’t rank compared to some of the disasters presidents have had to deal with. McCain’s plainspoken style let him use a racial epithet to national media, and I’m not quite sure how the nation of Vietnam would feel about a U.S. president who used such terminology to describe their citizenry.

So my rational political mind has an understanding of why we shouldn’t elect, or encourage, or consider the candidates whose plainspoken style is more important to their candidacy than their ability to recognize where pragmatism is appropriate. But here I am still wishing McCain would get on board with Kerry.

I wish I could just say that I wanted to see a Democrat in the White House, and that this was my only motivation for desiring a Kerry McCain ticket. I don’t think pragmatism is my major motivator here. I want to see a “shoot from the hip” candidate balance out the boring calculated automaton that makes up the Kerry candidacy. I’m sure Kerry isn’t as boring and artificial as his critics claim. His war record and daring in electoral politics seem to prove this out. But he’s a candidate now, and candidates, much like elected officials, often worry too much about consequence and appearances to really make the right decisions.

I lust after a paradigm of elected official who is so popular and safe with their electorate that they can roll this capital into results which honestly reflect their opinion and true policy preferences. The allure of the McCains and Deans are that they are willing to champion their true beliefs, but their inability to appear level-headed enough to win the presidency stops them from exercising their desires.

The problem with the presidents, who are on my side of the political spectrum, is that they seem generally unwilling to represent a true liberal ideal, even after securing office. Bill Clinton is an excellent example of this phenomenon. I don’t believe that President Clinton really was an ardent supporter of the Defense of Marriage Act. It’s possible that he really opposed homosexual marriage rights, but I doubt he really was that homophobic. But Clinton eagerly signed the bill, alienating a Democratic constituency, and likely did so knowing that it was an unfair and would ultimately not stand

The problem with measured and careful candidates and presidents is that they are unwilling, or at least less willing to express their opinions or see them represented through policy.

So here I am, wanting a slightly unstable John McCain to run for Vice President with John Kerry. I seem willing to sacrifice safety and judgment in favor of idealism and a support of a paradigm which allows people to be themselves.

Aha. That’s it. To be oneself. That is what I am after with this. I like John McCain and Howard Dean and all the rest of those who have subordinated pragmatism in order to be true to themselves and still exist as professional politicians. Apparently being true to oneself prevents a person from being elected president, but maybe that’s a good reason to avoid the heartache and letdown of running for the office.

Let me apologize for the stream of consciousness in this post. I find I figure things out when I write about them, not when I’m thinking of writing about them. In a perfect world, I’d take what I wrote here and rewrite it in a more ordered and academic fashion, but this is not a perfect world, and I am one of its least-perfect inhabitants.

Where to go?

This post about Will Baude's worries about where he should go to law school have definitely turned me away from Chicago.

I think I could write a competitive appeal to my "hold" status there, but c'mon, academic rigor? That's not for me.

Also, I'm not going to complain about Will's complaining about being accepted to Yale and Chicago. I still whine about getting into schools of a caliber my grades and academic devotion did not warrant, just because I’m not sure I want to live my entire life in D.C.

Okay, I’ll complain a little bit about Will: Go to Yale! For crying out loud! GO GO GO!!! It’s YALE! You can become a pillar of power, influence and culture if you’re there! GOOOOOOOOOO!!! It’s YALE. GAWWD.

There, I’m done.

YALE!

Appeals

I’m writing an appeal letter to schools that rejected me.

I’ve been admitted to Georgetown and Northwestern, which is wonderful. Before my LSATs got back, both of those schools were so out of my league that I had never even considered applying to them.

But now I’m waitlisted at U Penn, Cornell, and *gasp* Davis and Hastings. I am a little upset that Davis and Hastings, two schools which should, statistically speaking, admit 90% of applicants with scores and grades like mine, decided I was waitlist material. Some smart people I know have suggested that Davis and Hastings merely assign people who’re not likely to choose Davis and Hastings as their first choice to the waitlist, and give them high consideration if they submit an appeal.

There’s a rational part of me that accepts this reasoning as likely true. But there’s an irrational part of me that is upset and fearful that my application was somehow flawed, and my scores and grades were mitigated by lack-luster letters of recommendation, or a fundamentally poor personal statement. I’m worried that Davis and Hastings have judged me inadequate to attend their schools.

Sure, those of you who’ve read US News know that Georgetown and Northwestern are far and away superior institutions to the UC’s that have waitlisted me. In fact, Northwestern has entered the top 10 this year, which is mildly problematic for be because I have declined to apply for their financial aid package, choosing instead to attend Georgetown if the choice remains between the two. D.C.’s just more my style.

But the fear that I’m making an incorrect decision about attending Georgetown is now cause for some anxiety. This whole process seems to be laden with anxiety. I worried about why I haven’t heard back from schools yet, why I’ve been rejected and waitlisted at so many, and what I’ll do if I’m given a choice between more than two schools.

And here come the appeals. If they prove out, then I’ll have to seriously consider them. Should I go to U Penn over Georgetown? Should I even fill out the form to push me past the “hold” status at Chicago? Would I go to a Chicago, a much better-ranked school, over Georgetown, which is in a better city, with more politics, and less of a reputation for “working the heck out of people?” Oh jeez.

So my current plan is to appeal to everything, continue trying to get into schools like Chicago, and make my decision at the absolutely last minute. Is that a good plan?

No?

Damn.

Going to Law School

Did I mention that I’m going to law school next year?

I am. I’m in at Georgetown, and I’m waiting on NYU and Columbia. But let’s be honest and admit that if I haven’t heard from NYU or Columbia this late in the game, my chances don’t look bright.

Georgetown though, is much more than I deserve. I’m one of those applicants who’re able to break into these top-ranked schools because of scores instead of grades. I was planning on going to a low first, or high second-teir school before the LSATs came back, so I really should be very very glad to go to Georgetown. I am very glad really, but there’s a part of me that as a few reservations.

First of all, Georgetown is going to be all politics for me. I love politics. Too much, probably. But the fear for me is that if I go to gtown, all of my time will be spent networking and trying to make “contacts,” instead of studying my ass off.

As someone who’s never really gotten spectacular grades, I expect that it’ll be a challenge for me to discipline myself academically to compete with the rest of the law students at whichever school I attend.

Oh yeah, I’m appealing to several schools that rejected me. Mostly the appeal’s for Boalt. That place looks nice. Nice and cheap.

Sushi is Fun

I went to a sushi bar on Friday. I’d been craving sushi. You know how sometimes you get something in your mind, and you can’t stop thinking about it, but instead of doing something about it, you just think about it, and wish you were doing something to satisfy it?

Yeah, so basically I’m comparing my love of sushi with my unwillingness to seriously pursue women.

Anywho, I went to sushi with a friend and her roommate, and it was excellent. It was this little place with about 15 chairs, and two guys behind a bar, with two women around the other side serving up drinks. I’d been there once before on a Sunday, but that was tame. Friday, everyone was plastered. The chefs were pounding beers, the servers were taking shots, and the patrons were all sporting bright red faces.

The chefs would shout “Sensei!” as they tricked this one customer to take yet another drink, and they had other cute names for the regulars.

My companions and I drank three carafes of sake before the chef started to bring us free drinks. I think he was enjoying the fact that I was with two women, neither of whom I was dating. We ended the night with two free sake bombs, quail egg shooters, and a tall glass of fine chilled sake. We all got trashed.

Actually, I think the chef was trying to play wingman for me. That was nice. I can use all the help I can get. (At some point I may have to admit to not being completely useless with women, but for now I’m going to rest comfortably with self-deprecation. Its funnier that way.)

What I’m trying to say here is that sushi is awesome, the Japanese are awesome, and sake is especially awesome.