Friends don't let friends give a four-fingered shake.

A couple of weeks ago I spent the weekend with Scott at his residency program's callback weekend. Essentially, they invite med students they've interviewed and are considering offering residency spots to come and spend the weekend hanging out, meeting more residents and faculty than they could squeeze into the interview and try to get a better idea of who will be a good fit for the program. The first night I met a female applicant and her husband and both instantly moved to the bottom of my (admittedly completely irrelevant) list of desirables. Why the instant disappoval, you ask. They both had horrible handshakes. And yes, in a setting where you are surrounded by other professionals and you are trying to get a job, I'm judgy. (Also completely irrelevant here is my current lack of a job only because I am confident that if there is one part of an interview I can nail, it's the handshake.)

WTF?

A weak handshake is probably my longest-standing pet peeve. I remember judging little old ladies as a child in church during the weekly "let your neighbor know you're glad they're here" hymn when they gave me the four-fingered shake. I now realize that some of them may have had arthritis that made a real handshake painful, but others could get around just fine, so they really had no excuse. My hands are the same size as Scott's nine year old brother and yet I manage to fully grasp even the chubbiest, man-ring wearing and cigarette-stain bearing hands and give them a solid shake. (I hope you're imagining me shaking hands with a gold-chain-sporting, greasy-haired mafia boss from Jersey right now, because that is totally the mental image I was going for.) Anyway, both halves of this couple gave me the same four-fingered old-lady shake, and I was instantly annoyed by both of them for different reasons.

When I get a four-fingered handshake from a man, I'm a little insulted. The feminazi in me silently flares up and I think What, you think I can't handle a real handshake? Afraid of hurting a poor little girl? Would you shake a man's hand like that? Listen, pal, (I'd totally fit right in with the aforementioned mafia, btw) it's time you learn to respect women like you respect men. Now give me a real handshake or go ahead and pussyfoot it out of here.

But seriously, guys? You aren't going to break my hand if you actually grasp it to shake. This may come as a shock but most of you aren't gifted with freakish strength. If you are, (or just think you are as is more likely the case) don't be an asshole and try to crush my hand just to show off your masculinity, but also don't insult me with a half-assed handshake. It's 2011. Don't make me give you the anything-you-can-do-I-can-do-in-heels schpiel.

As much as the husband's finger-shake irritated me, the wife's irritated me more. I mean, come ooooon. You're a few months away from having M.D. after your name. You're obviously not a complete idiot and you have at least enough ambition to have survived medical school. You're a professional trying to make a solid, professional impression. I'll grant that this was a casual evening at an attending's home, but the weekend was still more or less a second interview. And I know I'm not one of the residents, but you also don't know what I do, and I could be someone you want to impress. (I'm not, but she didn't know that.)

Frankly, I'm always a little confused by women who give other women the four-fingered shake. It always ends up looking like you're giving me your hand to admire. Guess what? I'm not a 19th century suitor. You're not curtseying, I'm not bowing and I'm not going to kiss your hand. Unless you just got engaged you have no reason to show off a ring to me (I know, wrong hand) and manicures don't really do it for me. Look at the above picture. Ridiculous. If you're used to men just shaking your fingers it's one thing, but woman to woman, I just don't get it. Again, the feminazi in me silently seethes, Heard of the women's movement? Yeah, you're setting it back with that puny excuse of a handshake. Dramatic? Yes. Justified? Absolutely.

Whenever I encounter one of these sad excuses for a handshake I have to resist the urge to say, "Let's try that again. Now, don't be afraid to really grasp my hand and give it a shake this time." However, since that is never really a socially acceptable thing to do, I can only hope that at some point someone will tell the offender that they really need to work on their grasp.

Part of me fears that it's kind of like reading or riding a bike. You should have learned how to shake hands in your formative years, so if your handshake sucks at this point it's probably too late for you. I kind of hope some day I'll be one of those crotchety old ladies who won't give a damn and I'll give any young chippee with a limp grip a handshake tutorial. In the meantime, if you know someone with a less-than-impressive handshake, and you can work it into a friendly conversation, give them a few pointers. They'll thank you for it if they have to greet me with a handshake in about 40 years.

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.