MILP Roundup No. 250
Posted on April 30th, 2012
Attorney Work Product has the Mothers in the Legal Profession Roundup this week!
Attorney Work Product has the Mothers in the Legal Profession Roundup this week!
This is part of my Practice Tips series. In my past professional life, I represented victims of brutal assaults. This post is not about my clients. This post is about people who are always victims, at least in their own minds, and who lack any sort of perspective when it comes to the vagaries of ordinary life. (I’ll call them Faux Victims.) They’re people who think that because they slipped at a big box store they should get a half million dollar payout. (Um, sorry about the bruise on your ass, but…no, no you don’t get a payday for that.) Everything that happens to the Faux Victim — and it always happens to her, because she takes no responsibility for the path of her…
Once you’re admitted to the bar — no, scratch that. Once you’re in law school, you are fair game for anybody, anywhere, who ever knew you in any capacity to solicit free legal advice. Former coach? Ex-girlfriend? Piano teacher? They will all want your (free) opinion on some legal matter. This is one of the most annoying parts about being a lawyer, so get used to it quickly and pick a coping mechanism. You have a couple of options: 1) You can give them free advice. This is not ethical (if you aren’t yet admitted to the bar, because HELLO, unauthorized practice of law!) and stupid (because if something goes wrong, as it inevitably does, guess who they will blame?). I’ll tell you why…
There is a saying that the practice of law would be great if it weren’t for the clients. (OK, I may have made it up. But it’s true.) So to add to my practice tips and lawyers you will meet series, I’m bringing you the clients you will meet. Because if you thought lawyers were a mass of crazy, just wait ’til you start meeting clients. Whoo-boy! I’m starting with the Idiot, because he (generic pronoun; there are a lot of female idiots, too) pops up a lot, often in the context of a personal injury case. The Idiot is actually sad. We can laugh at him, sure, but the fact is, when there is a guy in your office with a 60 IQ,…
We’re in the last days of Gman’s time off, so while we’re doing things, they aren’t very bloggable. There’s been lots of hanging out, reading, visiting, and laughing, so I can’t complain. We’ve had old friends from out of town visit and I’m hoping we’ll get to meet new friends from out of town tomorrow. Pea had a playdate yesterday with her oldest friend (since they were 8 months old) and it was adorable because they both wore the same Hanna Andersson shirt; they hadn’t coordinated it and it was the first time either of them had worn the shirt. She and her friend play so well together that it really never occurred to me until recently how rare and valuable that is. It’s…
When I’m not writing the fiction project, I’ve been vomiting into another document organizing and expanding upon all the various rules of etiquette and practice tips and lawyers you will meet into an etiquette guide for attorneys. I have no idea if there’s a market for this sort of thing (I figure I’d self-publish it and sell it here) but if there is something I am good at, it’s telling everyone else what to do. Also, I read antique etiquette manuals for fun and enjoy judging people. Oh, right, and I was a pretty good lawyer, too. It’s a good fit, and the thing is writing itself.
I covered this once before. But yesterday at Powell’s, Pea held the door open for about a dozen people at the NW entrance. We were in a hurry to go to pick up Gman, but she’d been taught to hold the door open, and so she did. One person said thank you. One person out of twelve or more. Unbelievable. I realize that most of those people were busy staring at their smart phones and couldn’t be bothered to acknowledge the sweetness of her gesture, but it didn’t stop me from wanting to kick them all in the shins, or secretly hoping Pea’s grasp on the door might slip and slam a few of them in the face. So again, for the sake of…
We’re home, the clothes are all washed, but the suitcases haven’t been put up yet (M did find the missing bags, buried in storage! Whatever the thieves took, I don’t think it was much). M had a stress test today: you know the thing on the treadmill where they check out your heart? Since they didn’t rush him to the hospital, I’m guessing the results don’t mean he’s an immediate heart attack risk. Which is a relief, because at least for another month, he’s only in his 40s. In the meantime, Pea and I went to Powell’s, and I made the mistake of walking past the craft area. It was a mistake because 1) she found a stuffed llama and 2) I found a…
And home today. We had a great time, even though we didn’t venture far. The last time we went on a vacation — a deliberate vacation, not travel because someone got married or died — was before Pea was born. Yes, really. In this case, I prepaid the hotel so we couldn’t back out of it at the last minute, and I’m glad I did. For those of you who may remember when Pea was so sensitive that she would throw a shrieking fit because she spilled water on herself, in the past few days, she managed to 1) get caught by a wave up her knees and 2) fall in a tide pool on two different occasions — and not only was not…
It’s at Butterflyfish this week with a rocking Monkees theme! Wish her luck for Wednesday!