Rerun: My wasted education

As I study for the Bar, and I sit here trying to wrap my head around the Rules Against Perpetuities (any ATTORNEYS out there that want to tell me if they ever have actually ENCOUNTERED this archaic rule in real LEGAL PRACTICE) I found myself reading old blog entries.

Here is a rerun from an entry from August of last year that I find particularly relevent.

Everything I need to know I learned before 2nd grade (subtitle: my wasted 19 years of education)

Well, today is my first day of school.
My last first day in my life I hope (This is my final year in law school).

So, I'm sitting in the law library right now. Trying to read Agency Law. Doing EVERYTHING but reading.

I'm 30..I'm too old for first days of school. I'm so over this! But, just saying that makes me sound like I'm in Highschool..lol..LIFE COMES FULL CIRCLE.

I told my daughter (who's going into 2nd grade) that mommy was going back to school next week. She started asking questions, like all second-graders are obligated to do.

Q: What grade are you in?
A: I'm in my third year law school, honey
Q: No, mommy, what GRADE.
A: I just told you, third and final year law school
Q: No, mommy, I'm in 2nd grade, my friend Tom's in 3rd grade, what number grade are you in

I pause...I had to use my hands, and toes, then hands again to get an answer tio this one. Let's see 12 years plus 4 years undergrad plus 3 years law school.

A: I'm in 19th grade

OMG, 19th grade.

I start to think to myself have I REALLY learned 19 years worth of material.

I mean, I learned most of the important things 16 or 17 years back in my education. You know, important things, like you must wait in line to go to recess, don't eat glue, and you should not kick, bite, or hit others.

OK, maybe I did learn some other useful things. I learned math somewhere in there, I'm sure that's somehow useful. On the other hand, it just took me 5 minutes, one hand, one foot, and one hand again to figure out what grade I was in. I also learned writing skills somewhere in this 19 year educational excursion. I am sure that was useful. On the other hand, are writing skills really useful to lawyers? I mean, do lawyers really actually write in the English language? If you have ever read a contract drawn up by lawyers, you know what I mean.

As I'm coming to the brutal realization that I have not learned anything useful since 2nd grade, I realize my daughter is desperately trying to gain my attention.

Q: What classes are you taking.

OK, the true answer is I'm taking Agency Law, Criminal Procedure: Post-investigative Process, Juvenile Law and Remedies. This would make no sense to an 8 year old. This makes little sense to me.

A: I study law.And I get a perplexed look. But she presses on.
Q: What classes, mommy, like reading and art?
A: Well, I am studying Juvenile Criminal Law (I have no idea why this one came to mind)
Q: What's that?

OK, here I forget the verbatim. My mind was actually someone stuck on the fact that I've just wasted 19 years in a class room and learned nothing. But, somehow, I freaked her out. In my explanation of the class, I gave her the impression that we throw 2nd graders in jail for not cleaning their rooms....on the other hand, maybe it's not so bad I gave her this impression.

Q: Are your teachers nice?

NO! My professors are assholes. Total pompous ass-wipes. They try to make you cry in class. They are so full of themselves. They are lawyers for God's sake. No, I did not say this.

A: Yes, they are nice
Q: Are you excited mommy?
A: Yes, I'm excited to start back.

Then my daughter says, well, I want to go to school to be a veterinarian to help sick animals.I'm thinking, good choice. At least you may learn something useful, and maybe save a dyeing squirrel you just struck with your SUV on the way home from work.

Another successful conversation in my road to successful parenting.

Missed Milestones

A co-worker and I were talking the other day. He asked me how old my children were. I told him my daughter is 8 and my son is 6.

"Oh really! My son is 6 too! So, you must have gone to Kindergarden Graduation last week too?"

That's when it hit me. The Kindergarden graduation milestone came. And went. And I never realized it.

Because I was not there.

And my son was not there.

Because the "Autism support" class that my son is in does not participate in the ceremony. Actually, in Special Education classes the kids aren't even seperated by grade.

It hit me like a punch in the face.

WE MISSED OUR FIRST MILESTONE.

It served as another reminder that no matter how much I love him.

No matter how much I accept him.

He is different.

I do not know how many milestones will be missed in the future.

And that is what scares me

The most.

What I want, What I need, and How I want to Feel

Two recent phone conversations

RING RING

Me: Hello
John: Hi Baby
Me: Hey
John: I miss you baby
Me: So how are you
John: I miss you, do you miss me?
(Me: In my mind: Gag, Barf, please go away!)

RING RING

Me: Hello
Todd: Hey
Me: What's up?
Todd: I'm sitting here naked. My cocks hard. I'm thinking of you in the corner last month. When you were tied up and on your knees and I came on your face.
Me: MMMMM, can you come over tonight
Todd: no baby, I'm tired
(Me: In my mind: I WANT TO FUCK YOU SO BAD)
Todd: I'm going to bed. I'll catch up with you later.


I have a confession.

I chose men poorly.

The only men that I'm interested in are bad for me.

And all the "I Miss You Baby" guys make me run towards the door.

I tried to make it feel right with John. After all he adores me. He is a real gentleman. He is not a cheater.

But when it comes down to it, when I have to chose. when I'm home

Alone

Honry

Lonely

And the phone rings

And its John,
Or his mirror images Dr. Dan or Rick

I send call to voicemail.

And with one swift motion.

Call Todd, or his mirror images Bob or Karl.
(All of whom aren't capable of love)
(All of whom aren't capable of respect)
(All of whom don't know the definition of commitment)

And beg and plead to stick me in the corner. To tie me up, T come on my face. To make me like their fithy little whore.

To make me feel

ALIVE

WHOLE

EUPHORIC

For just one night.

The Attorney-Client Privilege Does Not Protect You From Being a MORON

Let me let you all in on a little secret.

The attorney-client privilege does not preclude us, your attorneys, from laughing at you, our clients, behind your backs. I know its hard to stomach. Especially since we are charging you $200 an hour to do so. But, just let it be known, if you act petty, irrational, obnoxious, or unreasonable, as soon as you walk out our door, we are making fun of you.

And now that I’m practicing primarily Divorce Law, I find myself more amused then ever.

When I was laving the office Friday, the senior partner said to me:

“See you Monday. It’s Father’s Day Monday. One of the craziest days of the year.”

Evidently, Fathers Day stirs up the worst in divorcing and recently divorced people. And, come Monday, all these morons run to their Attorney’s Office with complaints like:

(Note to non-legals: PSA= Property Settlement Agreement. It is ordinarily the last agreement executed between a divorcing couples, and is usually made part of final decree. It purports to deal with all issues, ordinarily, including ridiculous terms regarding the can and can-nots of parenting after divorce.)


“He left the kids off 30 minutes later then the PSA specified. I want him to be found in contempt.”

“I refused to let the kids see their dad yesterday, because the ass showed up with his young whore in the car, and the PSA said I had to let them see their dad, but it said nothing about that whore, and I refuse to let my kids in the car with that little slut. Am I going to be found in contempt?”

“The PSA says she needs to make all reasonable efforts to foster the relationship between me and the kids. The Bitch only let the kids get me a $2.99 box of chocolates for Father’s Day. Can’t she be reprimanded for that?”

And then the perennial:

“He had the kids an for Father’s Day. He needs to give me an extra day, because it was MY weekend. Draft a letter to his attorney NOW telling him I want an extra day.”


So, we, your attorneys, do as you say.

I draft a letter to you ex’s lawyer demanding an extra day, because you do not have the maturity to work this out like a civil person with your ex.

CHA CHING $250 in my pocket.

I file a motion to show cause for the cheap chocolates.

CHA CHING $325.

I file an answer to the show cause your ex. Filed against you because you are too immature to admit your ex has moved on, and you’d prefer to ruin the kids’ Father’s Day.

CHA CHING $425

And this is not to mention the dozens of phone calls I will take that will be so frivolous that my Ethics Responsibilities will prevent me from doing anything. Except possibly saying:

“Grow the fuck up, you are destroying your children’s lives!”

At least I can laugh at you when you walk out.

And maybe one day I’ll marry a psychiatrist, to whom I can refer your children when they grow up, so we can get double the laughs!

Tales of my Assistant, Partners, Associates, and their Partners

I have been MIA from this blog. Not to get too much into the monotonous doldrums of my daily life, but I just graduated law school, started working at a firm, and I am studying for the Bar, which I take next month.

I'd just like to take this opportunity to say:

ODE TO MY ASSISTANT!

I've only been with this firm for a couple months, and already I am completely dependent on her. She does all my scheduling, organizes all my files, she even picks me up lunch every day. I'm really not used to being treated this well. Suzanne is going to get a HUGE Christmas bonus from me! Thank you Sue for helping me sustain at this hectic time.

NOW FOR A FUNNY SUZANNE STORY:

My Assistant, Sue, is a very sweet, very young, very pretty, very naive girl from the Deep South. She started working for the firm about a year ago, when she was only 20. She was the Assistant to my predecessor, Lisa.

On the first day of work, Sue recounts beng a bit overwhelmed as Tracey, a Partner in the firm was introducing her to everyone.

Tracey: And this is T, he's a Partner. This is A, he's an Associate.

Perplexed by the difference between a Partner and Associate, Sue just smiled and introduced herself.

Tracey: And this will be who you will be working for, Lisa.
Sue: i'm so glad to meet you Lisa.
Tracey: You will be also helping out T, doing his overflow work. You will be responsible for all of Lisa's work, and helping out all of the partners when they need you.
Sue: Ok, who are Partners?
Tracey: T is a Partner, so are R, L, and B.

Feeling overwhelmed, and befuddled by the whole Associate-Partner distinction, Sue munstered up all the Southern Charm in her.

Sue: So, Lisa, are you married?
Lisa: No, but I have a Partner. Her name is Ann.

By this point, Sue had figured out, at the very minimum, that a Partner was some kind of business arangement. She surmised that Lisa had some sort of business venture going on out side the office and exclaimed:

"THAT'S SO COOL! WHAT DO YOU AND YOUR PARTNER DO?"

Lisa, just stood silently, stared, then walked away shaking her head.

It wasn't until Lisa left, to start a new Law Firm with her Partner that the others in the Firm told my dear, innocent Assistant Sue the Truth.

That the partner to which Lisa referred was not a partner in a busines venture, but rather, Ann and Lisa were life partners (ie - lesbians).

To quote Seinfeld: not that there's anything wrong with that.