So as we quickly approach our two-month anniversary as law students, there have been some changes comin’ round.  Up until now, I’ve been pleasantly surprised at how casual and noncompetitive the atmosphere at school has been.  No, seriously, and I have a pretty sensitive “Unnecessary Ridiculousness” meter, so I would be the first to notice any evidence to the contrary.  Sure, there have been a few isolated people and incidents that made me shake my head and wish for a window to jump out of, but overall the situation has been bearable.  Dare I even say, enjoyable?

Yet the cracks are beginning to show.  With a little over a month until the start of the finals study period, everyone is getting a bit more frantic. People have been whispering the word “outline” during hushed conversations in semi-concealed corners.  Amazon trucks arrive daily with nondescript brown boxes full of new hornbooks, study guides and porn.  I’m starting to think that I’m going to have to pull an Elle Wood’s style baked goods bribe if I have any prayer of joining a study group.

People are also starting to brag about staying in on the weekends, and sending backhanded insults at those who didn’t.   For example: “Oh you went to Alistair Whilstonian’s suspenders and scotch themed party on Friday? I’m soooo jealous.  He invited me too, but I just knew it was a better idea to catch up on the evolution of Tort Law doctrines.”  Pause, coupled with insincere smile. “I guess you must just feel really confident in the material.”

My unspoken mental response: Really?  You were studying?  That’s weird, since your Farmville feed chronicles a pretty full evening of winning primary colored ribbons and finding lost Alpacas and Dung Beetles. I imagine you must feel really confident about your skill for tending to a NON EXISTENT FARM.

Of course, since it’s possible that the only thing worse than giving a backhanded insult is blogging about backhanded insults, I still lose.  It’s a harsh world.

Yet, there is one change that hasn’t visited this neck of the woods yet- the dawn of the law school relationship.  Unfortunately, my class has so far been disappointingly lacking in providing salacious love rumors and gossip.  I mean, it makes sense, considering that my law school class is smaller than my high school class was.  Plus, unlike high school, there is a decent possibility that our law school classmates will remain at least peripherally connected to the rest of your career.  So prudence is not necessarily a bad thing when aforementioned gossip could follow you for a long, long time.  But it does make things a little more boring.

Luckily, I have good reason to believe that not everyone is willing to stay cautious for three long years.  And by good reason, I am referring to anecdotal evidence from a friend who is a 2L at another school.  Flawless research methods, I know.

She informs me that she saw the same thing at her school this time last year, while people were still feeling it out, but it started to change towards the end of first semester.  Soon enough, she claims, the school will be overrun by nausea inducing amore.  As the buildup to finals increases, and we spend more and more time in each other’s company, it’s only a matter of time till desperation and stress result in some bad decisions.

Knowing her to be a cynic, my superior investigation skills smelled exaggeration, and I told her as much.  She had proof otherwise- “Dix, believe me.  It started last year and only gets worse.  I’m in class right now, and at least three couples are holding hands under the tables.”

Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaa?  That is both absurd and revolting.  Unfortunately, although my friend may be a cynic, she isn’t a liar, so I have no choice but to believe her.  In light of that, I want to make something clear to all 1L’s who I may or may not come across in my legal education.  If I ever see two law students holding hands in class, my actions will be swift and decisive.  I vow to camp out on Mark Zuckerberg’s doorstep until he agrees to create and release upon said students’ virtual farms a pestilence so horrific that it will make the Book of Revelations jealous.  So for the love of all that is good and holy and involves wandering black sheep, don’t do it.  Don’t hold hands in class.  Please.  Consider yourself warned.

In parting, and keeping with the generally threatening nature of this post, I will conclude with a response to that reprehensible A-Rod poll posted on MSS a while back.

Dear LA: Nice job on the double fail.  Better luck next year.  (Cue the ‘Ol Blue Eyes musical fadeout)