Name that Nuisance

Radio stations often have a "name that tune" or even a "name that random sound" contest with lucrative prizes. I never listen to the radio, even in my car, but I confess to playing the latter game simply because my living arrangement makes me a necessary player.

Indeed, my apartment building makes random noises, and late at night when traffic from outside falls to a low din, the contest begins. I have been declared a winner before: it took me months, but I successfully figured out that the brief, echoing, metallic shuffle that occurred at purely random times was in fact the elevator down the hall closing its doors behind portly occupants.

I write about this now because last night, the night before my first exam, we began a new contest. And because it kept me up most of the night, I compiled a list:

Things I have narrowed down the repeating, cyclic, sharp, scraping noise to be:

- The upstairs neighbour printing out a 40+ page document on a circa 1990's dot matrix printer, where the printer is located on a hardwood floor and he can only print between the hours of 2 am and 6 am.
- An alarm clock woefully attempting to mimic the sound of a cat meowing, lodged somewhere in my bedroom wall.
- A cat meowing, lodged somewhere in my bedroom wall, with an acute sense of timing.
- Tiny jet airplanes flying consecutive passes through the concrete parking garage below.
- A radiator comandeered by a loveless couple, constantly fighting between heat and cold, having never heard of the idea of room temperature, or reasonable hours.
- The ghost of Kurt Vonnegut, because I hated Timequake.

F in Cardiology, A in Malpractice

Exams start tomorrow, so a good luck to all those in law school - again, I'm forced to wonder if there is a med school blog, and if anyone wishes good luck to the test patients instead.

For my own part, I have Civil Procedure, International Trade and Admin Law exams coming up (the latter mercilessly scheduled on the very last day of exams). It's certainly stressful, but in a way it's also not to be exaggerated, because the next time I consult my British Columbia Rules of Court on the deadlines for filing a Statement of Claim, it'll be the real deal.

Mind you, if I ever personally invoke Article XX(b) of GATT, check CNN, I may have just started an international incident.

Enemy of the Candy Industry Association of America

One possible sign that I've spent too much time studying with my computer: I tried to scroll down a piece of paper today. That's right, while reading the GATT provisions for International Trade Law, I dragged two fingers down the side of a piece of paper out of my coursebook, expecting the list of exceptions to trade barriers to, what, magically rearrange themselves, I guess. Wow.

This stupidity/absent-mindedness is right up there with the time (during the heydey of Napster) when I entered a convenience store and convinced myself to hold off on a purchase of Skittles, telling myself, "I'll just download them when I get home."

We Litigious Few, We Band of Lawyers

It's only fitting that I wrap up this list of Top 5 Things I Will Miss About Law School on my last day of class.

#1: The people

Learning about contract formation and minimum age requirements wouldn't have been quite the same if there hadn't been someone to ask whether putting a pen in a baby's hand and forcing him to sign qualifies. Property law only really came into focus when I realized I wasn't the only one confused. They told us when we started that we'd know the people from our law school year forever, and I believe it's true, notwithstanding the fact that they are best equipped to get me out of a legal jam real quick-like.

When I think of the people at my law school, I'm reminded of Band of Brothers - not in the sense that these people would take a bullet in the trenches for me (which, incidentally, would be a nice gesture), but that they would ruthlessly prosecute the shooter on my behalf and procure all reasonable damages, perhaps even a future garnishing order on the sniper's salary.



That's it, people are why I will miss law school. That goes for everyone: the notetakers, the CAN-makers, my peers and professors (particularly the ones with a cunning wit: "Where there's a will, there's a relative.") My small group Bane, moot partners, moot point-makers, the LSS, law revue sidekicks, the law review editrix, exam invigilators, visiting litigators, anyone who's made a ride home on the 99 B-line more bearable, anyone who ever gave me a ride to school and thus spared me that indignity, the lower years and upper years, the lawbloggers and blog readers.

Now, I make it a rule to never solicit comments on this site, a practice that I find sullies many otherwise respectable blogs out there, but don't you think this is such an instance where it might be nice to drop me a line, as it were?

So, any and all readers of this site, take the time and let me know what you think, for indeed, this post is for you. I know my mom didn't hit refresh 17,000 times, so that site counter tells me there should be quite a few of you. I even invite you in a race to see who can post "first!"

Fraudulent Goggles of Misrepresentation

Two more classes to go, and number two on the list of Five Things I'll Miss About Law School:

#2: Being able to say, "I'm a law student"

Tell someone you go to university, and you only have to answer more questions, like what your major is and what proof you have that a job market actually exists for it. Tell someone you go to law school, however, and you've rendered them momentarily speechless. It's like you've handed out beer goggles: you're that much more impressive, intelligent and, I daresay, attractive. It explains that playful retort, "so when I commit a crime I can come to you for advice?"

Law students are always perceived to be on the cusp of something great, and it makes people forget that by sheer statistical function at least some percentage of graduates must go on to practice divorce law or star in personal injury commercials.

When you actually become a lawyer, though, that magic wears off. It's not so funny anymore when your friend actually shows up for advice on that capital crime she's committed. Somehow you're expected to lose a part of your personality - something I've never agreed with, as the majority of lawyers I know are incredibly creative, funny people.

But oh, for those heady law school days when hope springs to a maximum of 14 years, but no less than 7, things are grand.



(I didn't have a handy image for this list item, so in keeping with #5 and #4, here is a 3rd picture of someone about to be eaten alive - by 2 mouths at once no less.)

The Five-Bar Exam

While I switch gears from studying International Trade to Civil Procedure, I thought I'd add another entry in the Top Five Things I'll Miss About Law School.

#3: The Foos

I'm tempted to talk about how the foosball table was initially a safe haven between first year law classes, where legal discussions flew back and forth with the same unpredictable trajectory as a ball on that slanted table, a veritable watercooler of legal theory. I'm inclined to argue that though the table may be falling apart (yet still no more dilapidated than the rest of the Curtis Building) it's nevertheless as much a part of the three years as reading case law.

All of that's true, but the reason it's on the list is simply because I really liked becoming a respectable foosball player - mastering the "Prism" if not quite getting the "Jahlalabad" (amongst others) - even earning a nickname for my own shot: the end-to-end, blink-and-you-miss-it, powerhouse slapshot, "The National."



Trademark pending.

The tingling is normal

More in the list of Top Five Things I Will Miss About Law School.

#4: How It Changed Everything

Law school may only constitute 15 hours a week, (12 if you play your cards right before third year) but damned if it doesn't permeate every minute of your life. Whether you like it or not, every piece of information going to your brain will be filtered through everything you've learned in class. You may be inclined to categorize this as an annoyance, and it sort of is. But in another respect, it's also a form of heightened awareness, and the closest I'll ever get to possessing Spidey Sense.

Here's just a short list of things irrevocably changed after 3 years of law school:

- Buying and selling property in a friendly game of Monopoly
- The second half of Law & Order
- The casual dismissal of small print
- The letters R, V, J, and a vowel of your choice
- The first half of CSI (being even more stupid now)
- Enjoying the ignominious fate of Donald Gennarro in Jurassic Park (replaced with a hint of sadness)



(The fact that both this and the previous entry involves pictures of persons inside gaping maws is, I assure you, a pure, but not unwelcome, coincidence).

God of Statutory Interpretation

Let's see if I can actually follow this plan through... Over the next month I'd like to compile the Top 5 Things I'll Miss about law school. Sure, most of us just can't wait to finish with exams, but I'd hate to spoil the opportunity for making lists.

#5: Becoming an Expert

By third year, you start to recognize your strengths in certain areas of the law, and when you're not so sure, you've built up a network of friends that can fill in those blanks. In turn, they can rely on you for your expertise.

For example, I was recently asked two questions by my peers:

Q1: Do you know of any case law or legislation saying that if a court has interpreted a certain provision one way, and then the statute has since been revised, they should interpret that new provision the same way?

Q2: OK, I've been at it for hours... how do you defeat this Hydra?



I can tell you now my knowledge in one area grossly exceeded the other.

Litigating Out Loud

I've written about the inexplicable dearth of Canadian law school bloggers before. Maybe I'm the only one who finds the connections between Jack Bauer and developments in Constitutional Law more than tenuous, but I still find it strange that there aren't more Canuck lawyers-to-be on the scene.

And as close as the legal systems between Canada and the US seem, convos with American law school bloggers were previously limited to cursory, non-law questions like, "Do you get CBC down there?" and, "Do we want it?"

Turns out I have more in common with American law school bloggers than I thought. Chatting with Frisco Bay-area blogger (and Lawyerlike recommended), Above Supra, about purchases we'd finally like to make as paid lawyers, it turns out we're both united by faulty consumer products and litigious instincts:

LL: I'd like to get a new tv, if only to replace this aging, wonky remote that randomly turns any button into the mute button.

AS: Whoa - your remote does that too? Maybe it's a common Sony design flaw.

LL: Hold on, are we both talking about Sony Trinitron remote control model RM-Y116?

(here there was a rapid-fire exchange of omgs and lols.)

AS: Are you thinking what I'm thinking? ...

CLASS ACTION.

(If there are other Sony buyers with similar "muted" experiences, contact one of us. This may be the new "big tobacco.")

Chaaaarge.... them with battery

Two hockey games in one weekend. The Vancouver Canucks versus my hometown Calgary Flames, and the UBC Law Circus recreational team versus some motley team made up of I'm not sure who. I was proud to cheer on my law school team, and I also think I caught the first photographic evidence of both our team in action and lawyers not brutalizing their adversaries. (It was a no-check league after all).

One game was a nailbiter, the other was a romp. One game was tested my allegiances, the other was really, truly a huge romp, like 10-5. Neither game made socially acceptable my legal-themed shouts of "appeal that goal!" or "challenge that check!"



Guess which game this crowd was attending.



Here's the crowd for the UBC Law game, i.e. the team itself.



If there was one skills department where UBC Law outshone their opponents, it was faceoff formation. (All kidding aside, the game was a lot of fun to watch, and it's too bad our team didn't get farther in the playoffs. Let's go law-yers!)



Say what you will about the litigious nature of lawyers, at least they would have recognized the futility of such an argument long ago and recommended a settlement.