Liz's Top 10 Tips for Surviving Law School

Let me start off by saying that if you aren't currently a law student, I have ONE tip for you: Don't do it. That's all. You'll thank me later, when you still have youthful optimism, faith in humanity and confidence in your own intelligence and competency. (You'll really thank me when you realize you've saved three years and $150k.)

For you suckers who have already made the mistake of signing on to finance the hallowed halls where the goal is to kill your dreams and eat your soul, here is a guide for coming out with a little bit of your "-ness" still intact.

1. Don't take a class that doesn't have outlines from past years available online. Even if you're a crazy-outlining-fool, these things can get you through on-call days with at least a little dignity intact. And if you hate outlining, there's really no need to reinvent the wheel.

2. Don't eat the NASCAR burger out of the vending machine. Or if you really must, say, for a challenge created to make the last semester more interesting, don't examine it too closely.

They don't look like this when they come out of the vending machine...

3. Make the effort to find good friends. You will need them to bitch with, to laugh with, to cry with, to find amazing excuses not to study with. You'll probably have to look hard as most of the folks who will stand out in most classes will be either still-in-college-mode-too-cool-for-school types or else pretentious douchebag types. But when you find them, whether it's early or late in the game, it will be well worth your while. They are the only people who will truly understand the 3 years of pain.

4. If there happens to be a British professor, take their class. It's totally worth it to hear them say things like "states can't go around cutting people's bollocks off just because they've been naughty." It will take you from this:

to this:

5. Don't expect the career services office to be much help in your job search. Unless you're gunning for BigLaw and are near the top of your class, they likely won't know what to do with you.

6. Every once in a while, venture across campus to the world of the undergrads. It's refreshing to see what you were like not so many years ago...just try not to get depressed when you realize you'll never be that carefree again.

7. Don't be a douchebag. Or a gunner. Or a think-you-know-it-all-prick who prefaces words with "pseudo-" or "quasi-" or who uses big words that don't really make your point any more clear. Everyone gets that you're smart. We're all smart. We're just not all assholes.

Special tips for spring semester, 3L year:

8. Try really hard to take as many pass/fail classes this semester as possible. By this time no one cares enough to actually put forth the time or effort to compete with the asshole 2Ls.

9. Don't take a class with an attendance policy this semester. Again, you won't care, and as spring looms on the horizon, you'll want to be out in the sunshine, i.e., not in class surrounded by asshole 2Ls.

10. Plan a kick-ass post-finals trip with some of those friends you've made. Preferably to Dollywood in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, with a stop in Nashville and then dinner at Dolly's Dixie Stampede, but really, anywhere will work. You'll deserve it by this time.

So I'm in debt up to the eyeballs of a much taller person and I have no job prospects -- I'm going to the Dixie Stampede, bitches. So, so worth it.

I hope these tips help anyone who happens to stumble upon them. Friends, feel free to leave your nuggets of wisdom in the comments. Together, maybe we can help those who have already fallen prey to dreams of making the world a better place or promises of 6-figure salaries come out on the other side not much worse for the wear.

I can't abide a whiny man.

I know this is belated, but since he has decided to remain on Reality TV Radar via Dancing with the Stars, I'm fine with airing my grievances now. Jake the Bachelor is a whiny bitch. I only watched the first episode and a half of this season, but between that and his time on the last season of The Bachelorette, I say he is a whiny bitch with full confidence. First of all, look at him. Also, any man who confesses (often, as Jake was prone to do) that women always tell him they are breaking up with him because he's just "too perfect" and who has the "good guys finish last" chip on his shoulder needs to check to make sure he still has balls. (Although in Jake's case it may have worked out for him, as I have been convinced since she stepped out of the limo that Vienna was a tranny. Hopefully a pre-op tranny so they have a full set between the two of them. )

A message to whiny men everywhere: Get ahold of yourselves. I mean, I get it, it's the twenty-first century and all, which means:
- Little boys can play with dolls and little girls can play with trucks.
- Men can be nurses and women can be doctors.
- Daddy can stay at home with the kids while Mommy goes off to work (looking fab in her power suit and mankiller heels) every morning.
- Men can emote and be sensitive and commit and women are free to, as Carrie Bradshaw put it, "have sex like a man."

But come on men, have a little pride. Good for y'all for being "in touch" with your emotions and for being comfortable talking about relationships and blah blah blah. But seriously, enough is enough. No one besides your mommy is happy to listen to your pity party. It's not that we don't care. Well, that's not entirely true because, often I for one don't care at all. Sometimes we want a man to be a man.

I will give him the benefit of the doubt and allow that perhaps poor Jake is a product of the times. He tries so hard to be the perfect man. He has a sexy job, a sexy smile and a sexy ass. He comes across as a gentleman and seems to genuinely want to find the perfect woman, settle down and start a family. (Of course, the fact that he went on a show where he knew he would likely develop more than one incredibly contrived relationships with women he only knows in a controlled environment calls his judgment into question, but a rant about the ignorance of Bachelor/Bachelorette participants is for another day…)

Back to Jake and his quest for the perfect woman and why he won't find her. These days, the perfect woman isn't necessarily going to be wearing an apron and pearls, greeting her man at the door, martini in hand, saying, "Wash up dear, dinner's on the table." Hopefully, she's the woman who knows what she wants and goes after it, and she may just want a man to greet her at the door with a martini. The point is, unfortunately for Jake, she most likely doesn't want to shack up with a whiny bitch unless the sex is really just that fabulous. If she happens to be a house-wifey type she probably wants a man's man. And if she's a woman in a man's world, she doesn't have time to nurture his "mama's boy" tendencies. Either way, she would almost certainly prefer not to have the pressure of matching his perfection added to her already busy day.

Also, to clear something up once and for all for all the Jakes in the world - you're not "too perfect." If a woman tells you that , she doesn't actually think you're perfect. Why on earth would I dump a guy if I thought he was perfect? I may be moody, manipulative and easily excitable, but I'm not stupid. When a woman says that, what she really means is that you might genuinely be a "good guy" and have none of the character flaws we women are taught to watch out for (e.g. a wandering eye, a controlling nature, a hot temper, a tendency to burp and fart in polite company) you are also overly aware of your good qualities that you cultivate martyrdom, and nobody wants to bang a saint. Basically, you've just grown annoying, but we're too nice to tell you that so we stroke your ego by telling you it's not you because you're perfect, it's us. (Trust me, it's usually you.)

Besides, all you Jakes, perfect is fake. Just what are you hiding under that façade? Six toes? A penchant for porn featuring women who look like men (with six toes)? Even if you are pretty near perfect, women are by nature suspicious and we will keep waiting for the AHA! moment where our worst fears are confirmed and our pristine image of you crumbles before our eyes. Do yourself a favor and develop some harmless little idiosyncrasy, like wearing brown socks with black shoes so we'll stop overanalyzing every aspect of your personality.

So guys, stop the whining because no woman worth her salt will put up with it for long. Nut up and stop feeling sorry for yourself. Also, don't fall for the tranny - her balls are almost certainly bigger than yours.

Cheer up Jake. Vienna's got a used set of balls you can have.

Love and Marriage...and Divorce?

In less than 24 hours I have found out that two sets of friends are getting a divorce. My best guy friend from high school and his wife (who got married two weeks after Scott and I) and one of my dearest friends from college (one of my bridesmaids, actually) and her husband (who were married a couple of years before Scott and I), are splitsville. I have yet to get the scoop on the demise of their respective relationships, which I will certainly do over the next couple of weeks, but for now I am somewhat traumatized, and left to my imagination's rampant speculation, leading me to question just exactly what would push a couple so close to the edge of the precipice that the only way to survive is dive off alone.

Now we all know that every couple has its problems. Even those couples that seem perfect in polite company have their (often times unimaginably big) fights behind closed doors. Others have their fights in front of open windows, or better yet, their front yard for the benefit of the whole neighborhood. The point is, no relationship is perfect. There are days when I am overwhelmed with love for Scott and there are other days where I want to kick him in the balls. And he usually knows when those days are, because our conversation goes a little something like this:

Scott: [Says something that he knows will piss me off.]
Liz: What do you mean by that?
Scott: I just mean [something that doesn't get me un-pissed at all.]
Liz: Why the hell would you say that? What do you think you're gonna accomplish?
Scott: I don't know, I was just thinking...
Liz: Well, you had to f*$&ing know that would piss me off. Was it really necessary to say?
Scott: No.
Liz: Then why the f%&$ would you say it?
Scott: I don't know.
Liz: I mean, did you know before you said it I'd get pissed?
Scott: Yeah.
Liz: And yet you said it anyway?
Scott: (Starting to laugh.) Yeah.
Liz: You're a f#*!ing asshole. Don't f*%&ing talk to me right now.
Scott: Babe, I didn't mean anything. I mean, I knew you'd get mad, but I don't know why you have to take things so personally.
Liz: Um, I take things personally because I'm a f&#*ing person. How else am I supposed to take things? Like a couch? Or a tree? If you don't mean it personally then don't say it at all. Or, if you know it's gonna piss me off, make sure it's worth saying.
Scott: You just shouldn't take things so personally. Geez, I can't say anything to you. From now on I just won't even joke around with you.
Liz: Oh, that was supposed to be funny? You say you knew I'd get pissed off before you said it, but now it was meant to be funny? You're a f*%&ing c*%#-sucking asshole of a jerk. Don't talk to me right now.
Scott: I was just joking. Don't take things personally. Geez, I can't even talk to you.
Liz: Seriously, don't talk to me for ten minutes. If you f*%&ing talk to me in the next ten minutes I'm going to punch you in the balls. Give me ten and I'll be fine.
Scott: (Laughing more.) Fine, I won't talk to you for ten minutes.

We get over most of our fights pretty quickly because they're about stupid things. Others we don't get over quite so quickly, but most of those we can look back at now and laugh. (Like the one when I accidentally scraped Scott's truck down the side of our friend's house. To be fair, I expected him to be mad. I just didn't expect him to be quite as mad as he was. I mean, it was a really narrow driveway and his truck is huge. Turns out most of my friend's family has run into that corner of the house. Luckily his mom reminded him of the time he ran into the Mazzio's building while delivering pizzas back in the day...) All that being said, there are fights that I don't think we ever really finished; instead, I think we just both got tired of talking. Then we both got tired of not talking and things gradually went back to normal.

Now we're faced with at least one year apart, maybe more, and we have been forced to really think about what we want with our careers, our relationship and our future family. It seems as though we're at the top of a mountain, looking out at the lives we want and the path we have to take to get there. Sometimes I fear that we're looking off into the distance facing opposite directions, and that we'll be lucky to cross paths on our journey. Other times I think our paths may have diverged a bit but that ultimately they'll meet up again.

I guess it comes down to the deal breakers. Everyone must have at least one thing they won't put up with, no matter how much they love the person. Personally, I know if Scott ever insists I suck his toes, it's over. Feet are gross. Seriously though, I guess it's good we haven't discovered our deal breakers. I thought we might be close a couple of times, but those were the fights that gradually faded into the abyss. Maybe once you realize what you absolutely won't stand for, it's just too late.

Or maybe I'm wrong and there really isn't any one thing that pushed most couples over the edge. Maybe it's all the little things - he doesn't wipe the floor around the toilet (come on guys, you know you have bad aim sometimes) or she leaves hairballs in the shower. He doesn't thank her for dinner, even if it is just Hamburger Helper. She doesn't thank him for making sure she has an ice scraper and good tires for winter. He resents her shoe obsession and she resents his five fantasy football teams.

I guess if it's the little things that make a relationship fabulous, they can also be the things that make it unbearable. Whatever it is, big or little, I honestly hope I never find out.