Woke up at 4 AM and wrote my Personal Statement Forum

[WeX11788]

Woke up out of a dead sleep. I have no idea why, but I started writing it in my head and couldn't stop, so I knew I'd never be able to fall back asleep until I started writing. Here it is:



So I’ve made it to the point where I am to write my personal statement—that is, my law school personal statement. Alas, it’s my big moment in trying to get you to like me. There are a few obvious routes I can take here: (1) I can tell you some long, well-calculated, analogous story (likely made up or exaggerated) about an event in my life that somehow worked out so conveniently to shape me into the wonderful human-being that I am today; or (2) I can brag about both my endless list of accomplishments and lengthy repertoire of talents in order to convince you that I’m better than my competition. The former will likely put you to sleep and the latter is too incredibly cheesy for me to ever take part in, so I’m going to take an alternate route. I’m going take my route. I’m not positive whether or not it’s going to be beneficial or detrimental to my application process, but I’m just going to flat-out give you my story. I can live with that. At the very least, my story will provide some entertainment value—something that I for some reason doubt is a commonplace amongst the average personal statement.

I got my head smashed in at the hands of another kid for my first time during my first month in middle school as a sixth grader. It was my first real fight, I suppose, but it certainly wasn’t my last. At the time, I blamed all of my bleeding on the fact that I had braces, but boot-kicks to the mouth will do that to you regardless. Plus, he had braces too, so I had no excuse. Apparently, I had stuck my nose in the wrong business. I stood up for a kid I had known in elementary school—a weaker boy. He wasn’t a fighter; it wasn’t in his nature by any means. He was a nice kid. Bottom line, he was getting bullied. There’s something inside of me that could never tolerate bullies, especially when the victim was undeserving—and believe me, this kid was undeserving. Unfortunately, I didn’t meet the physical requirements to be the hero, especially not in this scenario. I was small even for my age, and my newly-acquired enemy was of considerable size for his age (an older age than me, mind you). Excuse the cliché, but when I interrupted his reign of terror upon his victim—my elementary acquaintance—I was saved by the bell. That didn’t change the fact that my adversary was plenty pissed off, so he waited for me after school. Let’s just say he was waiting in the right place. Case closed.


Situations like these took place time and time again throughout my childhood. Make no mistake; I didn’t always get beat up, but I was constantly getting into fights and other kinds of trouble. I developed a core of friends in middle school that would last even until today. It was a rough crowd of kids, a lot of which were either from broken homes or were poorly supervised. I won’t call my home broken but I will say that I was poorly supervised. Both of my parents worked and bills were always tight. I didn’t have anyone to hold my hand. “I packed my own lunch”, as I so often like to put it. Without any older siblings, I had to in so many ways raise myself. Consequently, I grew up fast.


More times than I can even count, my teachers—typically my English teachers—would pull me aside after class and give me the “you’re-so-gifted-please-choose-new-friends” lecture. This took place even through high school. And, of course, it would go in one ear and out the other. Realistically, that advice is easier said than done. As a kid, you don’t drop a whole crew of friends and start looking for new ones; it just doesn’t work that way. Your identity as you know it is manifested through your friends, especially when your crew of friends is as close as mine was. Perhaps that was my biggest problem. Predictably, my problematic behavior worsened as I aged, as did it for the rest of my friends. By the time high school came around, I had a “tough guy” reputation. “Wex is fighting after school” was almost like a catchphrase through the halls of Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School. I wasn’t malicious; actually, I didn’t really ever start fights. But I never backed down. My fights were oftentimes the result of someone instigating either with me or someone I cared enough about to play the “hero” role. One didn’t exactly have to be my best friend in order for me to be their hero, to be honest. If they were instigating with me, they were likely bigger, older, and tougher. Exchanging blows with these guys accordingly made me tougher.


By about my junior year, the vast majority of my “crew” had dropped out. Dropping out had never been an option to me. I took school semi-seriously—my plan was always to become a lawyer one day, believe it or not. I managed to get decent grades. I juggled honors courses and extra curricular activities such as writing for the school newspaper and yearbook. I played high school football. Actually, my friends dropping out was probably beneficial to my high school tenure in a lot of ways, but there was always the weekends. Ah, the weekends. Plenty of late night hanging out, girls, booze,
drugs, and violence. I was accustomed to an entire arsenal of negativity outside of school. And this negativity, quite predictably, increased over time. Needless to say, this thing called “jail” came into the lives of a lot of my friends around this time. As our troubles worsened, so did the consequences. However, it didn’t really stop us. I, for one, was certain that I would never get arrested. Not me; I was just being a kid. I was just a kid. It’s easy to see where this is going: I was eventually was arrested for a fight at a party. Actually, “fight” is an understatement. It was a melee, a brawl, or whatever term appropriately gets the point across. It was a massacre whereby a large number of people were badly hurt. I wasn’t on the receiving end. Consequently, I spent a month out of school and inside a juvenile correctional facility. It was my rock-bottom moment…and I’m so happy it happened.

It took realizing that I was being represented by an attorney to know that I wasn’t on my way to becoming one. Forget law school, college itself deemed doubtful at that time. Lightly put, it was a total shock. In jail, I was surrounded by people that I realized were not like me. Most of these kids were from bad neighborhoods and were the product of a much more desolate upbringing than I was. Their future had never had the promise that mine did. I learned more in that month about myself than I ever would. I needed to change—and fast. As the judge indicated, there couldn’t be a “next time”. With a slap on the wrist as a juvenile, I was lucky to escape on a clean slate. Otherwise, I’d likely not be writing this personal statement.

I jumped back into school with an eager ambition to succeed. I still saw my friends on the weekends, but less and less as time went on. I was much more cautious with my decision-making, and was sure to steer clear of trouble. It was in a lot of ways paranoia, but of course with justified reason. Most of my friends were getting into harder trouble, some such to the point that I eventually lost touch with them. Several of these estranged friends began a heavy involvement with drugs, whether by consumption or solicitation—or both. Drugs never being my thing, it was inevitable that my relationship with these guys would dwindle. I saw some for the first time in a long time at their funerals; others I haven’t seen at all. Other friends of mine who had aggressive tendencies much like me continued their warpath, albeit to a much more dangerous degree. I watched a lot of my friends suffer severe penalties for their actions, of which some resulted in decade-to-lifetime-long incarceration. There are few that I still exchange letters with.


Before I knew it, it was time for me to apply to college. My ignorant belief in the certainty that I would be accepted to a major university was parallel to that of my original belief that I would never be arrested. Ultimately, I faced extreme disappointment in finding out that no major university in Florida accepted me. I would have to enroll in community college, and although it wasn’t the end of the world, I was heartbroken. Nonetheless, it was a deserving heartbreak. I didn’t work hard in high school; I just managed to slide by because I was intelligent enough to not work hard yet still pass, even in honors courses.


My letdown motivated me. I knew this was a no-turning-back moment. For the first time in my life, I actually worked to full capacity on my school work. I ended up breaking my back in community college, earning a near-perfect transcript after my two-year term. I transferred to Florida State University with the same fire I had entered Palm Beach Community College with, and ended up graduating from Florida State with Cum Laude honors.


And now I’m back in South Florida studying for the LSAT and applying to law school. And, when I can find the time, catching up with my old friends—those who have turned their lives around. Of course, they didn’t end up going to college, as most didn’t even graduate high school, but they are good people. Like myself, they grew from their experiences, and despite the countless friends I made while away at college, they are the only people in this world that I can completely relate to. It’s a sight to see: me hanging out with them. I became a clean-cut, college-grad, lawyer-to-be, and they’re in blue-collars, covered in tattoos, and surrounded by Newport cigarette smoke. Life is funny like that sometimes.


I’m excited to become a lawyer. Honestly, I’m made to do this. I’m not a fan of numbers and I’m not a brain. I’d make a lackadaisical accountant and I’d be a crappy doctor; however, I will fulfill a dominant career in law. I’m loud, outspoken, articulate, and well-writ. My Mom always told me that if all else failed, my handsome looks would save me. So, if I’ve scared you away with my story, I leave you with that—but I guess you’ll have to give me the benefit of the doubt.

[sophia.olive]

So you decided on number 1? - (1) I can tell you some long, well-calculated, analogous story (likely made up or exaggerated) about an event in my life that somehow worked out so conveniently to shape me into the wonderful human-being that I am today



I became a clean-cut, college-grad, lawyer-to-be, and they’re in blue-collars, covered in tattoos, and surrounded by Newport cigarette smoke. Life is funny like that sometimes.

My ignorant belief in the certainty that I would be accepted to a major university

By about my junior year, the vast majority of my “crew” had dropped out.

something that I for some reason doubt is a commonplace amongst the average personal statement

lengthy repertoire of talents

[WeX11788]

The difference is that I didn't speak on one single event. I spoke on my life as a whole. I take it you didn't like it? Or, possibly I offended you?

[sophia.olive]

Or, possibly I offended you?

Not offended.

Actually I am a little offended, but not in the way you think I might be.

[WeX11788]

Not by any means.

[WeX11788]

Perhaps I should indirectly make a clearer distinction (possibly by changing some wording) of how I didn't choose route (1). Thanks for the input.

[sophia.olive]

yeah...... you kind of mock something you then do, with the distinction being plurality.
But I dont think thats the main problem.
Are you serious about this PS?

[WeX11788]

yeah...... you kind of mock something you then do, with the distinction being plurality.
But I dont think thats the main problem.
Are you serious about this PS?

That I am.

Enlighten me with the main problem. I'm all ears.

[vyelps]

So I’ve made it to the point where I am to write my personal statement—that is, my law school personal statement. Alas, it’s my big moment in trying to get you to like me. There are a few obvious routes I can take here: (1) I can tell you some long, well-calculated, analogous story (likely made up or exaggerated) about an event in my life that somehow worked out so conveniently to shape me into the wonderful human-being that I am today; or (2) I can brag about both my endless list of accomplishments and lengthy repertoire of talents in order to convince you that I’m better than my competition. The former will likely put you to sleep and the latter is too incredibly cheesy for me to ever take part in, so I’m going to take an alternate route. I’m going take my route. I’m not positive whether or not it’s going to be beneficial or detrimental to my application process, but I’m just going to flat-out give you my story. I can live with that. At the very least, my story will provide some entertainment value—something that I for some reason doubt is a commonplace amongst the average personal statement.

FYI- adcoms hate personal statements that start with this kind of bs intro. You aren't writing a novel. Just start off with the essay, not this preamble stuff. Also, "I can brag about both my endless list of accomplishments and lengthy repertoire of talents in order to convince you that I’m better than my competition." <---This makes you sound like a total douche and without a sense of the spectrum of things that law school applicants have done to stand out.

[WeX11788]

So I’ve made it to the point where I am to write my personal statement—that is, my law school personal statement. Alas, it’s my big moment in trying to get you to like me. There are a few obvious routes I can take here: (1) I can tell you some long, well-calculated, analogous story (likely made up or exaggerated) about an event in my life that somehow worked out so conveniently to shape me into the wonderful human-being that I am today; or (2) I can brag about both my endless list of accomplishments and lengthy repertoire of talents in order to convince you that I’m better than my competition. The former will likely put you to sleep and the latter is too incredibly cheesy for me to ever take part in, so I’m going to take an alternate route. I’m going take my route. I’m not positive whether or not it’s going to be beneficial or detrimental to my application process, but I’m just going to flat-out give you my story. I can live with that. At the very least, my story will provide some entertainment value—something that I for some reason doubt is a commonplace amongst the average personal statement.

FYI- adcoms hate personal statements that start with this kind of bs intro. You aren't writing a novel. Just start off with the essay, not this preamble stuff. Also, "I can brag about both my endless list of accomplishments and lengthy repertoire of talents in order to convince you that I’m better than my competition." <---This makes you sound like a total douche and without a sense of the spectrum of things that law school applicants have done to stand out.

Thanks. Didn't realize it was so unoriginal. I probably should have.

[sophia.olive]

You kind of scare me..........but ill try.....


IMHO It sounds very immature, trite, judgmental, arragont, inexperinced, poorly reasoned, aggressive, cliche, self-aggrandizing, and shallow....

I guess one example of this is when you assume what the other PS will be critically, then you are too oblivious to realize you pretty much do the same thing.
The adcomms are trying to assess your character, critizising others in an attempt to distingush yourself (which you dont do) is probably one of the foundations of an underdeveloped maturity.

[alanrickman]

IMO I would re-write this. Though don't take that as being harsh: you've got plenty of great subjects for writing a ps WITHIN this.

Don't try to seem arrogant or conceited: but also try to "shine." I would only focus on college years, and I would not mention FSU (I went there and it was complete BS...everybody graduates with Cum Laude (my gpa of 3.82 puts me at the 90% wtf?)).

BTW: you saying you're not a brain is sort of fail...aren't you supposed to be smart for law school?

I kind of like the idea of you getting your ass kicked in middle school. I might try to tie this into the "why is law for me" part at the end.

Just fyi: I've re-written my personal statement like 20 times. You kind of just start to "know" what to write and what not to write. Put yourself in the position of somebody admitting people into the school and see if your statement can engage them and make them want to get to know you while showing them that you would be a great fit to the overall student diversity at whatever law school you are planning on attending.

If you haven't read the PS guide from the home page, I would do so now.

hth

[sophia.olive]

yeah...... you kind of mock something you then do, with the distinction being plurality.
But I dont think thats the main problem.
Are you serious about this PS?

That I am.

Enlighten me with the main problem. I'm all ears.

Your a douche....

[sophia.olive]

Woke up out of a dead sleep. I have no idea why, but I started writing it in my head and couldn't stop, so I knew I'd never be able to fall back asleep until I started writing. Here it is:



So I’ve made it to the point where I am to write my personal statement—that is, my law school personal statement. Alas, it’s my big moment in trying to get you to like me. There are a few obvious routes I can take here: (1) I can tell you some long, well-calculated, analogous story (likely made up or exaggerated) about an event in my life that somehow worked out so conveniently to shape me into the wonderful human-being that I am today; or (2) I can brag about both my endless list of accomplishments and lengthy repertoire of talents in order to convince you that I’m better than my competition. The former will likely put you to sleep and the latter is too incredibly cheesy for me to ever take part in, so I’m going to take an alternate route. I’m going take my route. I’m not positive whether or not it’s going to be beneficial or detrimental to my application process, but I’m just going to flat-out give you my story. I can live with that. At the very least, my story will provide some entertainment value—something that I for some reason doubt is a commonplace amongst the average personal statement.

I got my head smashed in at the hands of another kid for my first time during my first month in middle school as a sixth grader. It was my first real fight, I suppose, but it certainly wasn’t my last. At the time, I blamed all of my bleeding on the fact that I had braces, but boot-kicks to the mouth will do that to you regardless. Plus, he had braces too, so I had no excuse. Apparently, I had stuck my nose in the wrong business. I stood up for a kid I had known in elementary school—a weaker boy. He wasn’t a fighter; it wasn’t in his nature by any means. He was a nice kid. Bottom line, he was getting bullied. There’s something inside of me that could never tolerate bullies, especially when the victim was undeserving—and believe me, this kid was undeserving. Unfortunately, I didn’t meet the physical requirements to be the hero, especially not in this scenario. I was small even for my age, and my newly-acquired enemy was of considerable size for his age (an older age than me, mind you). Excuse the cliché, but when I interrupted his reign of terror upon his victim—my elementary acquaintance—I was saved by the bell. That didn’t change the fact that my adversary was plenty pissed off, so he waited for me after school. Let’s just say he was waiting in the right place. Case closed.


Situations like these took place time and time again throughout my childhood. Make no mistake; I didn’t always get beat up, but I was constantly getting into fights and other kinds of trouble. I developed a core of friends in middle school that would last even until today. It was a rough crowd of kids, a lot of which were either from broken homes or were poorly supervised. I won’t call my home broken but I will say that I was poorly supervised. Both of my parents worked and bills were always tight. I didn’t have anyone to hold my hand. “I packed my own lunch”, as I so often like to put it. Without any older siblings, I had to in so many ways raise myself. Consequently, I grew up fast.


More times than I can even count, my teachers—typically my English teachers—would pull me aside after class and give me the “you’re-so-gifted-please-choose-new-friends” lecture. This took place even through high school. And, of course, it would go in one ear and out the other. Realistically, that advice is easier said than done. As a kid, you don’t drop a whole crew of friends and start looking for new ones; it just doesn’t work that way. Your identity as you know it is manifested through your friends, especially when your crew of friends is as close as mine was. Perhaps that was my biggest problem. Predictably, my problematic behavior worsened as I aged, as did it for the rest of my friends. By the time high school came around, I had a “tough guy” reputation. “Wex is fighting after school” was almost like a catchphrase through the halls of Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School. I wasn’t malicious; actually, I didn’t really ever start fights. But I never backed down. My fights were oftentimes the result of someone instigating either with me or someone I cared enough about to play the “hero” role. One didn’t exactly have to be my best friend in order for me to be their hero, to be honest. If they were instigating with me, they were likely bigger, older, and tougher. Exchanging blows with these guys accordingly made me tougher.


By about my junior year, the vast majority of my “crew” had dropped out. Dropping out had never been an option to me. I took school semi-seriously—my plan was always to become a lawyer one day, believe it or not. I managed to get decent grades. I juggled honors courses and extra curricular activities such as writing for the school newspaper and yearbook. I played high school football. Actually, my friends dropping out was probably beneficial to my high school tenure in a lot of ways, but there was always the weekends. Ah, the weekends. Plenty of late night hanging out, girls, booze,
drugs, and violence. I was accustomed to an entire arsenal of negativity outside of school. And this negativity, quite predictably, increased over time. Needless to say, this thing called “jail” came into the lives of a lot of my friends around this time. As our troubles worsened, so did the consequences. However, it didn’t really stop us. I, for one, was certain that I would never get arrested. Not me; I was just being a kid. I was just a kid. It’s easy to see where this is going: I was eventually was arrested for a fight at a party. Actually, “fight” is an understatement. It was a melee, a brawl, or whatever term appropriately gets the point across. It was a massacre whereby a large number of people were badly hurt. I wasn’t on the receiving end. Consequently, I spent a month out of school and inside a juvenile correctional facility. It was my rock-bottom moment…and I’m so happy it happened.

It took realizing that I was being represented by an attorney to know that I wasn’t on my way to becoming one. Forget law school, college itself deemed doubtful at that time. Lightly put, it was a total shock. In jail, I was surrounded by people that I realized were not like me. Most of these kids were from bad neighborhoods and were the product of a much more desolate upbringing than I was. Their future had never had the promise that mine did. I learned more in that month about myself than I ever would. I needed to change—and fast. As the judge indicated, there couldn’t be a “next time”. With a slap on the wrist as a juvenile, I was lucky to escape on a clean slate. Otherwise, I’d likely not be writing this personal statement.

I jumped back into school with an eager ambition to succeed. I still saw my friends on the weekends, but less and less as time went on. I was much more cautious with my decision-making, and was sure to steer clear of trouble. It was in a lot of ways paranoia, but of course with justified reason. Most of my friends were getting into harder trouble, some such to the point that I eventually lost touch with them. Several of these estranged friends began a heavy involvement with drugs, whether by consumption or solicitation—or both. Drugs never being my thing, it was inevitable that my relationship with these guys would dwindle. I saw some for the first time in a long time at their funerals; others I haven’t seen at all. Other friends of mine who had aggressive tendencies much like me continued their warpath, albeit to a much more dangerous degree. I watched a lot of my friends suffer severe penalties for their actions, of which some resulted in decade-to-lifetime-long incarceration. There are few that I still exchange letters with.


Before I knew it, it was time for me to apply to college. My ignorant belief in the certainty that I would be accepted to a major university was parallel to that of my original belief that I would never be arrested. Ultimately, I faced extreme disappointment in finding out that no major university in Florida accepted me. I would have to enroll in community college, and although it wasn’t the end of the world, I was heartbroken. Nonetheless, it was a deserving heartbreak. I didn’t work hard in high school; I just managed to slide by because I was intelligent enough to not work hard yet still pass, even in honors courses.


My letdown motivated me. I knew this was a no-turning-back moment. For the first time in my life, I actually worked to full capacity on my school work. I ended up breaking my back in community college, earning a near-perfect transcript after my two-year term. I transferred to Florida State University with the same fire I had entered Palm Beach Community College with, and ended up graduating from Florida State with Cum Laude honors.


And now I’m back in South Florida studying for the LSAT and applying to law school. And, when I can find the time, catching up with my old friends—those who have turned their lives around. Of course, they didn’t end up going to college, as most didn’t even graduate high school, but they are good people. Like myself, they grew from their experiences, and despite the countless friends I made while away at college, they are the only people in this world that I can completely relate to. It’s a sight to see: me hanging out with them. I became a clean-cut, college-grad, lawyer-to-be, and they’re in blue-collars, covered in tattoos, and surrounded by Newport cigarette smoke. Life is funny like that sometimes.


I’m excited to become a lawyer. Honestly, I’m made to do this. I’m not a fan of numbers and I’m not a brain. I’d make a lackadaisical accountant and I’d be a crappy doctor; however, I will fulfill a dominant career in law. I’m loud, outspoken, articulate, and well-writ. My Mom always told me that if all else failed, my handsome looks would save me. So, if I’ve scared you away with my story, I leave you with that—but I guess you’ll have to give me the benefit of the doubt.

[sophia.olive]

It would be funny if one of the adcomms smoked newports or had a tattoo. lol

[Marionberry]

This is an excellent personal statement, that really conveys a sense of maturity and insight. Beyond that, it makes the reader like you on a personal level which is always a good thing. It will strengthen any application you submit it with.

[philosoraptor]

This looks like you were trying to write a speech for an audience of teenagers rather than a law school admissions essay for an audience of attorneys and professors. It's way too long and, quite frankly, isn't nearly funny enough to justify the unorthodox tone.

If I were an adcomm, I wouldn't let you anywhere near my school. You don't deserve your overinflated ego (whoa, you did some work in college and now you feel more successful than your loser friends? awesome, bro!), and if the reason you're going to law school is because you'd suck as an accountant or doctor, you need to rethink the whole enterprise. If that's meant as a joke, it doesn't work. When your readers have to wonder constantly whether you're being serious, that's a bad sign.

By the way, you are not "well-writ," despite what your teachers at Stoneman Douglas might have told you. But if you cut about half of this, read and internalize a book or two on grammar and style, and find a theme that's less annoying, you might have potential.

[sophia.olive]

This is an excellent personal statement, that really conveys a sense of maturity and insight. Beyond that, it makes the reader like you on a personal level which is always a good thing. It will strengthen any application you submit it with.

+1 I had a change of heart. Its great, I was just frightened by your originality and gumption. Apply with it, and to the top 14 around Nov 2nd.

[Marionberry]

It was, in fact, frighteningly gumptious.

[Emma.]

It was, in fact, frighteningly gumptious.

[Mike12188]

I highly doubt you got in that many fights without instigating any. I was in High School once I was a wise ass and I also thought I was a tough guy. I would never write a PS about it. You should definitely put it in you addendum and try and convince the adcomms that you were only being a "hero"

Edit: booze,drugs, and violence
-also something I would not be admitting to in a PS

This reminds me of the PS that a kid wrote on here about being arresting for running a meth lab or something but trying to convince everyone he had no idea his friend was doing that and he had nothing to do with it

[El_Gallo]

TLS is full of good advice but some people on here can be pretty harsh sometimes. I thought this was a good rough draft. You are obviously a good writer and i like the mood of your story.

If I were you I would cut out or completely redo the first and last paragraph. The first is kind of cheesy and the last is putting yourself down.

I would also shorten down the fights and stuff in the first part of the essay and then go into a little more detail in the second half of the essay. Make your turning point more powerful and then show how you have grown since then. Don't belittle any of your friends, but also make it clear that you have matured and are no longer the person you use to be.

I think you need to make a couple of changes to make this a good personal statement, but I think its an excellent story. I was very impressed with your accomplishments. Your seem like a very capable individual and I am sure that you will be accepted and do very well in law school. Good luck!

[sophia.olive]

TLS is full of good advice but some people on here can be pretty harsh sometimes. I thought this was a good rough draft. You are obviously a good writer and i like the mood of your story.

If I were you I would cut out or completely redo the first and last paragraph. The first is kind of cheesy and the last is putting yourself down.

I would also shorten down the fights and stuff in the first part of the essay and then go into a little more detail in the second half of the essay. Make your turning point more powerful and then show how you have grown since then. Don't belittle any of your friends, but also make it clear that you have matured and are no longer the person you use to be.

I think you need to make a couple of changes to make this a good personal statement, but I think its an excellent story. I was very impressed with your accomplishments. Your seem like a very capable individual and I am sure that you will be accepted and do very well in law school. Good luck!

lol

[ArchRoark]

It was, in fact, frighteningly gumptious.

LOL


The OP /has/ to be a troll.

[WeX11788]

To those who gave insight (alanrickman, El Gallo, etc) thanks for the input. That's the kind of critique I was looking for. This is my first PS after having read only a few. I obviously posted this to work on it. LOL @ FSU comment, true.



Got to LOL @ "sophia.olive". You've posted in here like over 5 times, and actually edited some of the posts! You're putting wayyyy too much thought into this thread, but I guess that comes with emotional attachment. Something in here must have struck a nerve; want to talk about it? I guess that's what gross girls from Missouri do though. If this is your chance to shine from behind a computer, you can go right ahead I just wish you wouldn't clog my thread.


Go figure, the posters who came in here acting insulting are the ones with hundreds of posts on a LAW SCHOOL ADMISSIONS website, mind you. It's not so entirely difficult to figure these people out. So you guys kept posting after getting into law school? So cool. So Risque. So Badass.