Beginning with the 2009-2010 academic year, the Office of Student Affairs will be implementing a new class scheduling policy. According to Dean Baum, "[T]he administration is making some fundamental changes in the way it schedules classes at the Law School.  The vast majority of four-credit and three-credit classes will be offered in 3 x 75-minute and 2 x 85-minute class sessions, respectively (instead of in 4 x 55-minute and 3 x 55-minute sessions)."  Additionally, more upper-class courses will meet on Fridays. Based on the draft schedule for Fall 2009, this includes several generally large classes, such as Federal Courts, Evidence (one of two sections), and Transnational Law (one of two sections).

I hate Microsoft Office. There, I said it. The newest version of the software (Office 2007 for PCs, 2008 for Macs) unnecessarily hides the simplest tasks behind a shiny globe and a huge, oddly organized menubar Microsoft calls "the Ribbon." Every time I have made the bad decision of sitting (on the horribly uncomfortable stools no less, but that's a rant for a different day) at one of the crappy Dell workstations that populate the Law School's computing centers, I dread having to open the world's most ubiquitous failure in software.

Some people list "cooking" as an interest on their resumes; Tomek Koszylko did it for a living in New York City.

When it comes to teenage sexuality in the United States, it seems the end times are pretty much always near.

It seemed like a straightforward enough idea: recycle paper and cans in the dorms. Why not, right? Most of us got into the habit of recycling through our undergraduate dorms' programs. The University of Michigan's undergrad dorms, for example, have recycling. For those of you who have never lived in the Lawyer's Club, our little residential hall community doesn't have recycling bins in each room or even in each entryway. The exceptionally diligent resident might ferret out the bins in the basement under the dining hall (not being one of those myself, I couldn't tell you exactly where). So where do all those hundreds of pages of Westlaw printouts and soda cans go? I've got all of my paper sitting in a bag on the floor of my room, which I half-heartedly hope I'll recycle at the end of the year. I know one girl who keeps all of her cans and beer bottles in a J.Crew bag, occasionally sneaking them into the law school and abandoning them by the bins. "I know it's silly, but I feel like I'm doing something wrong," she told me.

I am a graduate of Michigan Law.  I did well (although even now, I'm not really sure how) and I went to work at a big-name, selective firm during the boom times.  I've put in the blood, sweat and tears.  I've staggered out of the office at 3 a.m., hailed a cab, and come back the next morning to do it all over again, for months at a time.  Things have obviously changed a bit since then.  I'm still employed at the firm, and because I'd like to keep that job, I must remain anonymous.

Ever plan a party? How about one for 150 people over three days? Our Michigan Law student chapter of the American Constitution Society (ACS) did just that a few days ago when we hosted the Constance Baker Motley Moot Court here March 13-15. While our ACS Chapter has been growing rapidly over the past few years, this was the first time we had the opportunity to host such an event, and we were determined to make a good impression on our guests.

On several recent evenings in the city we all love to love, Las Vegas, your intrepid reporters had the pleasure of investigating one of the nation's hot new trends: Breadline dining. In response to the dire economic times, Las Vegas' top chefs are turning toward a sparer, more streamlined dining theme. In this vein, chefs are lauded for tracking down the cheapest cuts of meats directly from the stockyards that usually throw them out and even dumpster diving to retrieve outdated canned beans and the odd case of no-name peanut butter.

Here at the RG, we're rather unaccustomed to taking requests. Or rather, more accurately, we're perfectly adept at requests, we just infrequently get any. As such, after we'd heard numerous complaints that, though generally nice and terribly collegial, the average MLaw student could stand, perhaps, to be a bit more polite, we took it upon ourselves to do something about it. Unfortunately, we're not particularly polite either; luckily, Whitney Barkley, arguably MLaw's preeminent Southern Belle, opted to take both us, and y'all, in hand, in a new column: Bless Your Heart. (That's basically Southern for "It's really unfortunate that you don't know or weren't raised any better.")