This year I’m applying to law school. The good news is I’m not in horrible shape for where I want to go. Let’s mentally review where I’m at.
GPA– With their special, “magical” law school calculator, I have a 3.8ish GPA. I say “ish” because my last class may change it. Overall, I’m pretty happy with that.
Learnin’– My alma matter is pretty highly ranked and my program has an even higher national ranking. Plus, it’s a BS, and I hear that helps.
Writin’– This is one of the few things I do well. This journal probably isn’t the best indication of that, but yeah, I’m actually published and I’ve won some writing awards. This means my personal statement should be quality.
Workin’– There’s good work experience, here, having been the youngest person ever promoted to my mystery position in California. And, I’ve worked as a supervisor. Then again, I’ve also schlepped wholesale furniture. There’s something I won’t be listing.
Neuroticin’– I have no life, so I’m willing to write optional essays and eager to apply early.
LSAT– I’ve not yet taken the LSAT, but I’m scoring around 169 on practice tests. If I could finally nail games I could raise that up to 173; I’ve heard for most that’s the easiest section of the test on which to improve, but it ain’t workin’ for me.
Recommendations– Have I built solid relationships with professors for awesome rec’s? No, professors are scary.
Extra curricular stuff– I haven’t cured cancer. Gimme a break, I’m working on it. Volunteer work, in a couple clubs for a semester here or there. That’s it. Sad panda.
Where I’m going?
Hopefully UMich law with some kind of scholarship that acknowledges the unique, beautiful butterfly that is my soul. Why UMich? Because it’s got a great program for public interest work, there’s some sweet medical care, and their outlaws program looks “rad.”
If not there, hopefully NYU. That’s a pretty dumb second choice, though, since NYU doesn’t admit a gaggle of applicants nixed at UMich.
I called E3000 and left a message. It made me nervous, for some reason. We got back in touch and Denise quizzed me, nicely, about the extent of my hair growth and what I wanted. Zap my face, yo, and ish be around medium to light. I guess. I think the “I guess” really made her stop and pause about the number of days to book. So, now I’m supposed to grow out my facial hair and send pics to them. They’ll assess it. The moral of the story is, women, know your limits. Or, the amount of growth you have, anyway. Or, don’t talk like you’re a transsexual rapper.
I read up on others’ experiences with E3000. I might post my own, too, I don’t know. It seems a bit passe.
Time to call my father. At least I won’t sound like a dummy on the phone, yah?