Me: “That was special.” Jill: “Yeah. Oh my god…I feel like I’m out of breath or something!”

I actually enjoyed studying for the Crimlaw final. It’s amazing how much a class can suck all of the life out of a subject.

I had a sneaking [...]]]> I took my Criminal Law final this afternoon. It was basically a typing contest.

Me: “That was special.”
Jill: “Yeah. Oh my god…I feel like I’m out of breath or something!”

I actually enjoyed studying for the Crimlaw final. It’s amazing how much a class can suck all of the life out of a subject.

I had a sneaking feeling all semester that if I only “delved into the material” more, that I would actually like the class. Hm. Next time!

I had an Alley McBeal hallucination moment where I saw myself screaming “FALAFEL!!” and lunging at him. I know that’s random…and actually, it might have been [...]]]> So, I was working on a practice exam for tomorrow’s final when Harley walks up to me, sniffs my knee, and then walks to the wall and PEES ON IT.

I had an Alley McBeal hallucination moment where I saw myself screaming “FALAFEL!!” and lunging at him. I know that’s random…and actually, it might have been more productive because when I started to scold him the started running to the sofa…

…the only problem was that Harley was NOT DONE PEEING! So I chased him throughout the apartment yelling at him to turn off the faucet. Dis-aster.

I just wanted to concentrate on Mens Rea and not slash around in a pee slip-n-slide!

After mopping and spraying down the entire apartment, I grabbed the dog, threw him in the car, and booked it to Wal-Mart.

Harley’s now the proud new owner of a kennel.

He goes in there willingly so half the battle is over. I’m super-excited that I can leave books out now without the fear shredding.

Horrah!…now back to Mens Rea…

The grass started turning green a month ago, but the trees have remained leafless – until this week. Sometime overnight all the trees decided to blossom.

It’s as if the mayor pressed some secret spring button.1

I feel like I’m in some parallel Paula Dean Garden [...]]]> I think that thing they call spring is here.

The grass started turning green a month ago, but the trees have remained leafless – until this week. Sometime overnight all the trees decided to blossom.

It’s as if the mayor pressed some secret spring button.¹

I feel like I’m in some parallel Paula Dean Garden universe. I got so used to winter that I forgot that there are other seasons…

Harley and I spent the week exploring the extensive park system in the neighborhood. The amount of parks, lakes, and nature trails surrounding downtown is ridiculous.

I suspect I moved back to Germany and no one has told me yet, especially when I look at the Fachwerk houses in the neighborhood:

I need to stop bringing coffee on these walks. The same thing happens every time: I start the walk with a cup of coffee and when we are 4 or 5 miles from home I realize “oh shit, I need to pee.”

This is of course the point when Harley gets tired and is all, “wait, why are we rushing all of the sudden?”

He then decides that every tree, squirrel, and gardener is worth inspection.

My bladder starts crying…and disaster strikes.²

And don’t be fooled by the “Minnesota Nice” stereotype – even Minnesotans will give you filthy looks when you’re raging down the street, screaming “GOD DAMN DA COFF-FAAAY!!!” while grabbing your crotch and dragging a 100lb dog…

There have been plenty of times this week when I’ve wanted to scream upon getting home. Harley has started trashing the apartment.

I tweeted about the destruction and was directed by @Karpul to this article on the Humane Society Website. The topic? Dog Separation Anxiety. The gist? He’s destroying the apartment because he misses me and loves me.

Now before you say “awe” remember I am not seeing love when I’m cleaning up shredded novels marinating in puddles of piss.

No. That ain’t love.

And of course the article says scolding the dog will ONLY MAKE IT WORSE!

Well… crap!

You mean I come home to a destroyed, pee-soaked apartment and I can’t bitch at anyone? This is supremely unfair.

And the most ridiculous thing is that Harley didn’t start this chaos until recently. I guess that means he didn’t like me enough before…

In order to help him adjust, I decided to study at Dunn Brothers today. I left Harley a pork bone and hoped for the best. Of course he completely demolished the kitchen – broke dishes, dragged the trash everywhere, and then pissed all over the front door.

And no, he did not need to pee – we had gone on a two hour walk this morning. Minneapolis is perfumed with this dog’s pee. It was pure spite…or according to the humane society, yellow love…

One redeeming thing about Harley is his “don’t mess with me or I’ll eat you” size. He even keeps Meth Molly away.

However, Harley’s size did fail to keep the crazy away this week – we were walking in Uptown (on Lyndale) when I saw this sketchtastic guy sitting at a bus stop across the street.

He was bald, pasty-white, emaciated, and had no eye brows ala Alexander Litvinenko (or Powder) and of course STARING RIGHT AT ME.

So I smiled politely and directed Harley down the street. Of course a few blocks later I see that powder had crossed the street and was storming down the sidewalk right behind us! I have seen waaay too many zombie movies for this to be okay. Seriously, this guy looked like the last day of chemo…or day 28…

So I took a sharp turn and literally RAN down the block as much as I could before he made it to the corner. What the hay…

The sprint worked, but I ran into the creep at another bus stop on Hennepin. He glared at me from across the street. I wondered if Harley would catch whatever that guy had if Harley decided to eat him…

In addition to running from zombies and cleaning up pee, I took my first final exam this week. The subject was Property, and it was not as horrible as everyone expected. My only grief is that there were NO future interests/estates problems! Not a single one!

All that time spent on learning the vesting categories? A waste.

The $20 I spent on the supplemental future interest book? An utter waste…especially since I barely looked at the book…

Tomorrow is my Criminal Law Final, and Friday is Corporations. Crimlaw is strangely pleasant to study…which is odd given how incredibly dull that class was…

I’ve also spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about “what kind of law I want to practice” and decided that it’s a silly question. I am not so limited in my interests that I wouldn’t be perfectly content practicing in most fields. I know that seems sacrilegious to say, but I don’t think I’m the only person who likes law enough to be happy in most fields…

Heck, I think most students at my school would be open to most areas of law. And most of us feel silly when lawyers (and parents, and friends) ask us what field we want to practice in, since the first year of law school gives us no clue of what private practice is actually like.³

There are a few former Business School kids and future public defenders who know exactly what they want to do (to the exclusion of all other opportunities) but most of us have no idea…

The real question is what type of firm will hire me? I love my school, but I’m aware of its limitations. UMN is reputable enough that nearly everyone will pass the bar, but not so prestigious that everyone will have a job upon graduation.

I have decided that the answer is not to claw my way into the top 5% since even biglaw has its problems.

The point (for me at least) isn’t to get a prestigious job just because that’s what everyone else is doing. My goal is to have a career that allows me to do challenging work and pay off my student loans before I’m 40.

…oh, and a job that allows me to afford dog training…since I’m sick of this yellow love business.

Oh and classes are still going on apparently. Most of my section has become impatient with classes. Here’s a rundown:

Jill appeared very distraught in yesterday’s class. She kept switching between laughing and looks of utter disgust. At times, Jill shook so hard with laughter that she rattled her desk.

I facebook messaged her:

Me: What’s wrong? Jill: The guy sitting next to [...]]]> The social inappropriateness in my Crimlaw class reached an entirely new level of awful yesterday.

Jill appeared very distraught in yesterday’s class. She kept switching between laughing and looks of utter disgust. At times, Jill shook so hard with laughter that she rattled her desk.

I facebook messaged her:

Me: What’s wrong?
Jill: The guy sitting next to me! The angry, serial-killer-looking one from the other section…
Me: You mean Billy Bohaha? What about him?
Jill: LOOK AT HIS HAND!

I look over and realize that only one of Billy’s hands is on the desk.

Me: Uh, What is going on?
Jill: Billy has been scratching his balls for the past 20 minutes!
Me: What-what? Who does that? OH MY GOD…it’s like he’s mining!
Jill: I can’t even look at the overheads because every time I turn that way I burst out laughing! This is NOT happening!

But it is happening, Jill. But it is…

Billy scratched his crotch for the rest of Crimlaw, to the great amusement of the class.¹ I think we should start an itch-cream fund.²

Professor R: “Is a buying a mask enough to be in the possession of a materials to be employed specifically designed for an unlawful use?” Jill: : “No. Maybe it’s Halloween or something.” Professor R: “Well, that’s right. You can use a mask for a lot of things. I just to have a colleague [...]]]> From my Crimlaw class:

Professor R: “Is a buying a mask enough to be in the possession of a materials to be employed specifically designed for an unlawful use?”
Jill: : “No. Maybe it’s Halloween or something.”
Professor R: “Well, that’s right. You can use a mask for a lot of things. I just to have a colleague that taught Criminal Procedure in a Nixon mask…”

Professor R: “I want to schedule a makeup class for April 28 at noon. Does anyone have any conflicts with this?” Jack: “I do! I do! There is some lunch thing with potential employers on that day.” Jill (loudly): “Don’t worry. You’re not going to get hired [...]]]> Jill is kind of a bitch. This just happened in Crimlaw:

Professor R: “I want to schedule a makeup class for April 28 at noon. Does anyone have any conflicts with this?”
Jack: “I do! I do! There is some lunch thing with potential employers on that day.”
Jill (loudly): “Don’t worry. You’re not going to get hired anyway!”

Professor R: “Is this an incentive for the suspect to run? Often the suspect is younger, doesn’t have heavy equipment, and hasn’t been to the doughnut shop as much…” Jill: “There’s a middle ground! You don’t haveta shoot him! [...]]]> Another day in the Circus (aka Criminal Law). The topic¹ is police power to shoot a fleeing suspect:

Professor R: “Is this an incentive for the suspect to run? Often the suspect is younger, doesn’t have heavy equipment, and hasn’t been to the doughnut shop as much…”
Jill: “There’s a middle ground! You don’t haveta shoot him! You can taser him, or beat him with a baton!”

May a person who enters the habitat of another at 3 o’clock in the morning for the announced purpose of killing him, and who commences to beat the startled sleeper’s bed with a stick and set fires under him, be entitled to use deadly force in self defense after [...]]]> This week’s Crimlaw cases are just ridiculous:

May a person who enters the habitat of another at 3 o’clock in the morning for the announced purpose of killing him, and who commences to beat the startled sleeper’s bed with a stick and set fires under him, be entitled to use deadly force in self defense after the intended victim shoots him in the back with an arrow? Upon the basis of these bizarre facts, we hold that he may not, and instead, must suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune (with apologies to William Shakespeare and Hamlet, Act III, sc. 1).

The facts (from the opinion):¹

This case is a parable of the dangers of weaponry in the hands of unreasonable powers who become unduly provoked over minor irritations. Melody Downes shared her house with several persons, including appellant. She rented her garage to Michael Fairall for $150 per month. She believed he was to give her a stereo as part of the rent. He believed her intent was only to borrow it. He asked for the return of the stereo; she said she sold it.

Fairall, a man of obvious sensitivity, smashed all the windows of her automobile, slashed the tires, and dented the body. Not quite mollified, he kicked in her locked door, scattered her belongings in the bedroom, and broke an aquarium, freeing her snake. (It was scotched, not killed. See Macbeth, W. Shakespeare.)

Ms. Downes advised appellant of Fairall’s behavior; he apparently took umbrage. On the fateful night in question, Fairall, having quaffed a few, went to the garage he called home and then to bed, a mattress laid upon a lofty perch in the rafters. He was rudely awakened by a pounding on the garage door accompanied by appellant’s request that he come out so that appellant might kill him. Fairall wisely advised him that they could exchange pleasantries in the morning.

Undeterred, appellant opened the garage door, entered with stick in hand and began beating on the rafters, yelling for Fairall to come down. In the darkness, Fairall claimed he could see sparks where the board hit the rafters. Appellant said that if Fairall did not come down, he would burn him out. No sooner said than done, appellant set a small fire to some of Fairall’s clothes.

Fairall, who happened to have secreted a bow and quiver of arrows in the rafters to prevent its theft, loosed one but did not see where it landed.² Fairall, abandoning his weapons, swung down from the rafters and was immediately hit from behind. He yelled for someone to bring a hose and attempted to extinguish the fire with his hands. Meanwhile, appellant, in an ill humor from the gash in his back caused by the arrow, continued to beat him, causing a two-inch-wide vertical break in Fairall’s lower jaw, tearing his lips, knocking out six to ten teeth, mangling two fingers, and lacerating his arm, stomach and back. Fairall also suffered burns on the palms of his hands…