By Michael Warner ’09
Associate Columns Editor

This is not a column about Feb Club. Let’s just start with that. But let me make it clear, I’m not switching it up because I think Feb Club columns are unfunny or lack creativity or whatnot, it’s just that at this point Feb Club columns are like those end-of-the-world disaster movies that have been, let’s face it, a tad beaten into the ground.

We all loved Independence Day, and seriously, who doesn’t cry at the end of Armageddon. But then Deep Impact came out, and those stupid volcano movies, and eventually we’re all sitting around dreary-eyed and drooling, watching Dennis Quaid take on global warming in hand-to-hand combat. Frankly, I’d rather turn in a column on watching paint dry than write something that could in anyway be compared to The Day After Tomorrow.

So with that in mind, prepare to get your minds blown. Sit down in that comfy chair of yours, strap yourself in and hold on tight, because this is going to get freaky. That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, today we enter the wild world of… wait for it… Journal Tryouts.

Now while this might not seem as exciting as Feb Club, I’ll have you know that 30 straight days of heavily themed parties have nothing on what is the single most painful weekend of law school thus far.

In keeping with my disaster movie theme, journal tryouts are probably most like the Tom Cruise remake of War of the Worlds. You keep thinking to yourself, it can’t be that bad. Sure, Cruise has gone bat-sh*t crazy, and everything inside you says seeing it is a waste of time, but what the heck, everyone else is seeing it. And, who knows, you might actually enjoy it! Then, when it’s over, and you’ve watched a creepy Dakota Fanning act seven times her age, Tom Cruise murder Tim Robbins for no apparent reason, and aliens suck the blood out of two-thirds of the world’s population, you kind of just want to get punched in the face to take your mind off how terrible it was. Except for the cool special effects and dreamy cheek bones of Tom Cruise, journal tryouts are pretty similar to that.

Last year I really wanted to write a column about tryouts, but since I did them the first weekend and my column would have been published before the second weekend, I was told that it would actually be an Honor Code violation to write that the journal tryouts were “hard.” Yup. Dead serious on that one. So whatever you do, don’t let that cat out of the bag. Apparently it’s a f’ing state secret that 72 straight hours of reading, writing and cite checking is hard. So shhhh!

So what advice could I give now that I’m pretty much allowed to say whatever I want? I’m actually not sure. I mean, what advice would you give to someone who was about to get kicked in the junk? Something along the lines of, “this is going to hurt, a lot, and there really isn’t anything you can do about it.” Maybe I’d even snicker a little knowing that you were going to get kicked in the junk and I wasn’t. But, perhaps, since some of you 1Ls are reading this before you go home and take the tryout I will try to dispense a few pieces of advice. Here are my nuggets of wisdom:

First, before you pick up the tryout, go to Harris Teeter and load up on as much junk food as you can. Whatever your guilty pleasure is, just go absolutely nuts. If you love Sun Chips, buy four bags. If Marshmallow Peeps are your obsession, buy the store out of them. If you crave Hot Pockets on a daily basis, just buy as many as will fit in your shopping cart. Seriously, the only thing that will help alleviate the soul-crushing boredom that is this weekend is to gain 10 pounds the fun way. When I was a 1L I’m pretty sure I went through a case of Mountain Dew and ate my weight in Awesome Blossoms (God bless Chili’s takeout). Nothing says Law Review like an onion-grease-stained writing sample.

Second, don’t pick this weekend to start obsessively watching The Hills. I made this fatal mistake last year. It was day two, around dinner time, and I decided that I was going to let myself watch a quick half hour of TV while I ate. After all, I was making good time, right? Five hours later I was throwing my shoes at the TV cursing a world that has allowed Spencer to live as long as he has. I mean, what was up with that birthday toast he gave to L.C.?! W.T.F.?!

Third, when you show up to Kinko’s at 2:30 a.m. Monday morning, wear something that you wouldn’t be embarrassed to wear in front of pretty much your entire class. Let me tell you, I was none too excited when I showed up to photo copy my crap writing sample in my cut-off Super Elmo t-shirt and a pair of Stone Cold pajama pants, only to find somewhere around 15 other 1Ls doing the same thing (albeit in less embarrassing attire). It also probably would have been less embarrassing had I showered once all weekend. Again, I blame the Hills marathon.

Lastly, and this isn’t advice so much as a warning, the whole process costs a decent amount of money. There is no greater insult to injury than when you go to pick up this demonic packet of crap than when they make you pay for it. It’s the functional equivalent of paying $50 to get hit in the face with a shovel. Then there’s the Kinko’s fees. For some odd reason they make you have about 78 copies of everything. I honestly think this is more of a funny joke they play on you than an actual requirement. Like frat hazing. I picture a bunch of bitter 2L and 3L Law Review members sitting around making up asinine rules to make the process more painful because “hey, they had to do it, too.” I hear next year, when you hand it in, you get paddled just for kicks.

But at least at the end of this rainbow there is a pot of gold. A silver lining to the dark cloud that is this weekend. You may, oh you just may, be on a journal! I mean, I can’t tell you how many firms were impressed by my journal experience (zero), or how much fun cite checks are (like getting your wisdom teeth pulled), or how fun it is to socialize with your journal (I couldn’t name four people on my journal).

Or you can take comfort in knowing that this Saturday’s Jersey Shore party will probably be the best Feb Club event of the month. Oh, wait. You won’t get to go. I guess that’s not comforting at all, is it? Suckers.

Email: mdw7b@virginia.edu