Monday, January 31, 2005

My schedule

Because you care.

Tomorrow I am taking a 5 hour bus ride to City #1 at the crack of dawn, then making my way through the city to the office for my afternoon interview, then making my way back to the bus station, and back home. Will arrive home no earlier than 11:45 pm.

I have 6 hours of class on Wed, one class for which I have to have an entire book read and a response paper written.

Friday I have to be prepared to cross examine in one case, direct examination in another, and play a witness at least once.

Next week, I have to go to City #2 for an interview on Tuesday. Then I have to come back Tuesday night for another typical Wednesday (6 hrs of class, one for which I have to have read a book and written a response paper) and be prepared to direct, cross, and play witness again for both Wed and Fri. But what makes next week even better is that on THURSDAY I have to be in City #1 again. I'm considering cancelling or rescheduling, because I can't keep traveling 10 hrs in a day for an interview, then coming back for a day to attend my mandatory classes, then traveling another 10 hrs the next day. But I can't see what choice I have if I'm interested in being employed.

I haven't even started yet and I'm already tired. The next two weeks will probably see blogging at a minimum. If I don't get at least one solid job offer out of the next two weeks (although, frankly, these interviews will only lead to further interviews) I'm going to be PISSED.

Friday, January 28, 2005

My career is on the line.

I may be pursuing the wrong career. I've always been excited by the idea of being in the courtroom, but every time I get near a courtroom-simulated experience, I tense up like a roly-poly being poked by some evil neighborhood kid's stick. I would like to roll up in a ball and wait for it to go away.

Today, I will do my first simulation in trial ad. I think I have a good plan, and I think I'm capable of carrying it out, but I know once I get in there and listen to everyone else I'm going to get tense, stumble over my words, drone on monotonously.

If I'm not declared a brilliant litigator during my review session on Monday, then I'm going to quit. It's all or nothing. My first summation will dictate the rest of my career.

Ok, that's a lie. I'm not going to quit but I will cry.

Thursday, January 27, 2005

Suicidal Man charged with murder, faces death penalty

Let me get this straight. This guy wanted to kill himself, but he changed his mind. At that point, his truck was already stuck and, as the CEO of the train company said, he couldn't have moved it if he tried. The train then derails, killing people, and the solution to this problem is to charge the suicidal man who couldn't move his truck with 11 counts of murder and sentence him to death?

What about the fact that it's even POSSIBLE to get stuck on a train track and that when such things occur, the train derails?

THIS IS FUCKING ABSURD. Talk about zealous prosecution.

Wednesday, January 26, 2005

Nota bene:

Including me on an email forward to 100 of your closest friends does not constitute 'communication' and thus, any duties of friendship are not discharged as a result of such email.

Monday, January 24, 2005

I am exhausted. I spent the whole day chatting with people I haven't seen in ages, and it's tiring! I was at the law school all day, but I only spent one hour in class and one hour studying. Whew. I'm plum tuckered out.

I spent $462 on books for TWO CLASSES. unfuckingbelievable.

I got my first issue of Maxim today. Woohoo! It's a little dirty that it has my name clearly labeled on it. A little shameful. But it's a guilty pleasure. I cracked open a beer and read it cover to cover. I only read the funny articles, and I skip over the naked women and stupid articles. Sometimes it doesn't take me long to read it.

I am listening to Buena Vista Social Club now because it's the type of music that plays inside of me but does not emerge nearly enough. I would like to meet someone who could evoke some BVSC from me.

Back in the saddle

Returning after being away since May is odd enough. Being back in CLASS for the first time since April is just awkward. The first thing I did on the way to school this morning was fall on my ass. So it's now wet, cold, and covered in salt. Then I realized I'd forgotten to bring writing utensils. See, I used to have stashes of necessary items like candy, yogurt, paper, pens, books, a coffee mug, post-its, up here at the law school. But I moved out. I've been working since May and now I know what a racket this whole 3rd year of law school is, and I couldn't care less. The school is filled with 1Ls that I've never seen, which means I virtually don't exist because everyone knows that law school is all about 1L year. If you're a 3L AND you aren't in the social loop you're as good as dead.

I am excited to take trial advocacy and I'm working on another capital case this semester. I'm taking tax, which bores me just thinking about it, but I'm taking it pass/fail. And then I have a writing seminar that sounds fascinating, on race theory and the law.

Friday night was wonderful. Most of the friends were back in town and we all went to The Bar, the bar at which we always gather. Getting ready, I pulled out all the tricks I learned from my summer roomie, who I miss and adore. Then I assembled clothing according to the clothing layering system I developed this fall. And then I went out. And how. I didn't get to sleep until 4:30 am - after drinking at the bar, flirting with men, getting a WWF move from behind, going to after hours, listening to Stevie Ray Vaughan, drinking red wine, eating pizza, and debating the role and relevance of religion in our lives and the lives of people generally, in addition to seriously discussing today's top rap artists. It was so wonderful to have SO MANY PEOPLE to talk to - people I don't know well but enjoy speaking to. I love the freedom to just approach people and start chatting, and to just walk away when I want.

I wrote an email to Mr. Summertime Fun (formerly Mr. Maybe) because one of my friends is actually an old friend of his. It's really small world. My friend slurred to me, "He's such a good guy. What's he been up to? Let's call him!" and then he passed out. But I wrote Mr. STF an email saying, basically, Hey! Friend asked me what you were up to and I have no idea. Hope all is well. No response. No surprise.

Had a really important and intimate heart to heart with bestfriendandroommate Fri night / Sat morning. We laughed, we cried, we shared, and I'm so glad we did. It was probably one of the very few moments in my life when I've communicated so openly with someone. We both laid it out there, completely exposed, and our friendship is all the richer. I can't remember the last time I felt that close to someone in my life.

Shit's getting busy. I have a class in 1.5 hours and I haven't even purchased my books yet.

How 'bout them Patriots?

Wednesday, January 19, 2005

Former Texas drug agent to serve 10 yrs probation

So let's see. This guy manufactures dozens of trumped up drug convictions of black guys, and gets hooked on the federal perjury statute for telling one tangential lie. Martha Stewart does that and she's doing hard time in the pen because investors lost some money. What the fuck?

Jury pool from hell:
Right after jury selection began last week, one man got up and left, announcing, "I'm on morphine and I'm higher than a kite."

Tuesday, January 18, 2005

Yes, I would like another drink.

Scheduled some job interviews today. Got myself pre-approved for a bar study loan (which, p.s. deducts an 11.5% disbursement fee. THEY ARE TAKING $1000 AWAY FROM ME THAT I HAVE TO PAY BACK WITH INTEREST YOU DIRTY LOAN MOTHERFUCKERS).

Spoke to an incredibly helpful individual in regards to my fellowship proposal and I started to realize what I'm getting myself into. I started to think that I don't have the financial security to embark upon this late-in-the-game adventure. And there's a chance that while it's my dream job in my head, it could backfire. Although if I'm working for myself, how bad could it possibly be? I've never been smart enough to tread softly. Inadvertently, I'm stubborn and hot-tempered enough to get what I want. It's a good thing I've chosen to use these powers for good and not evil.

When I make my life decisions, it's rarely based on pragmatism. I generally view my decisions in life as strength or weakness. I'm strong enough to embark on this; I'm weak and can't go through with this. It's not always the healthiest way to look at how I live my life, but thanks to that attitude, I've done some healthy risk-taking.

And the other day, I managed to surprise myself - the thought crept up in my mind from a different angle, and it caught me off guard. But it looks like I tricked myself into recognizing the truth. That might not change my mind, but it's always good to be self-aware.

Part of what I love about law school is the reckless abandon with which we (unknowingly) celebrate each other's company. The constant opportunities for socializing are just what this girl needs.

Sunday, January 16, 2005

I had to pick up a document for my job. The person from whom I was retrieving the document is not a party to the case, and it's not even a case on which I've worked. I scurried over to retrieve the document and was just going to go home. I was invited in, offered a drink, tea, coffee, anything, etc. The overtones of the conversation were very hospitable, a mention of possibly seeing me again.

A recurring theme in my life is that I know just enough to know when I'm being stupid, but I don't know enough to fix it. In this case, cultural sensitivity. As a social worker, a large part of my education was learning to connect with people who have vastly different social expectations. In this case, I was offered food and drink so many times in my brief visit to merely retrieve a document that I knew that continuously turning it down wasn't the right answer. I apologized, stated I was on my way to meet friends for dinner, and departed a few moments later. But I still can't shake the awkwardness of the interaction. I believe that I do a good job of not showing discomfort. I have a vapid smile and a sincere thanks. But I don't feel any less foolish afterwards. And even now I wonder what was expected of me in that visit. Last week, someone needed change, so I gave them change. I give people change or dollar bills all the time - it's not something I expect in return. So, when I reflexively declined the exchange from the client, my supervisor gave it to me impatiently. Afterwards, I felt foolish. I didn't want to insult the client, and I think it might be unethical technically to give a client anything at all, but it's just habit. If you asked me for 20 cents, I'd give it to you and never expect anything back. I hate feeling stupid.

It wasn't the overtures that caught me off guard, but rather it was my inability to formulate a response that would have been comfortable for me. I think that law school has insulated me from working with clients for so long that I've become rusty. In the past two weeks, I think I've realized how far I've fallen in the way I communicate with clients. As a social worker, the emphasis of the work was creating a relationship with the client that was appropriate for the context. It's that working relationship that drives me to do public defender work. Perhaps my complaint with law, or legal education, is the emphasis on form over substance. My legal education seems to have completely overlooked the fact that 1. there are people involved and 2. facts will never, ever be a slam-dunk into one legal analysis or another - being a lawyer is all about squishing your side of the story into the most favorable analysis. Nothing ever fits nicely. And my legal education sure as hell didn't help me figure out exactly how appropriate or inappropriate it was to decline offers of hospitality.

I'm listening to Damien Rice's album, "O" right now. If you haven't heard the song "Delicate" yet, you really should. It's so good it will actually make you want to cry.
Jury conversations

Saturday, January 15, 2005

I swear it's not contagious.

One way to make sure that you, as a landlord, will never rent out your property is to give your current residents no notice, so when one of the interested parties brings her father along to look at the place, the 6-month supply of birth control will be splayed all over the bathroom along with an ominous tube of medical cream.

Friday, January 14, 2005

sistah can't catch a break?

I have some bad crazy 6-months-past-due credit issue that concerns me, because damn I need a bar loan. This issue just came to my attention and I'm nervous. I mean, a $78 past due insurance payment won't break me, will it? Please oh please oh please. And when I finally decided that I would get off the couch to meet a friend to play pool and drink beer, that I would actually get out of the house and throw down some Womanofthelaw magic, he get all snippy at me and told me not to come meet them. Well. Fuck you then. Thanks.

I'm going to hide in my bed now.
Tonight is a night in which the only thing that would cheer me up right now would be a tall, broad, muscular carpenter sitting on my couch, with me in his lap, his arms wrapped around me, stroking back my hair.

And since THAT's not going to happen, it looks like I'll settle for more pjs and liquor.
I dislike my blog template. I've thought about changing to another one of the Blogger templates, but then I'll lose all the things that I've added in, won't I? And that's such a pain in the ass. Anyhow, I think that my blog in its current format is quite difficult to read since I ramble on for far too long. I'm going to try tinkering around with this one a bit more. I like the 'scribe' feel that it has, but I wish it had some more color to it. A nice hot red or orange. Grrrrrowl. Something a little more fancy. La dee da.

Today's articles

Today's Boston Globe:
*It All Comes Back to Danny Keeler: An article about a homicide detective whose credibility has been questioned
*City Gives Him A Break: Mayor Menino helps a man who served 13 yrs for a rape he didn't commit.
*If someone had been kind enough to give me this kind of career advice I wouldn't be in my current frenzy.

The New York Times' Neediest Cases. Did you know that under the current federal system, women do not qualify for welfare if they are in school full time? The 'workfare' system requires job-related activity, and only a few months every two years, I think, can be counted towards welfare eligibility. So then - if she works at McD's, she might be able to get benefits. If she wants to get a bachelor's degree to get a stable, better paying job with benefits, then the kids don't get fed and the bills don't get paid.

The Baltimore Sun has an article about a defendant convicted for carjacking in which the accomplice and purported triggerman was set free. There's one sentence in the article that I thought was a stupid reporter's attempt to interpret law: "Under Maryland state law, if prosecutors lose a pretrial appeal, they forfeit the entire case." I couldn't get over that one little sentence. Just a minute or two of Westlaw research affirmed that this is, in fact, true.
If the State appeals on the basis of this paragraph, and if on final appeal the decision of the trial court is affirmed, the charges against the defendant shall be dismissed in the case from which the appeal was taken. In that case, the State may not prosecute the defendant on those specific charges or on any other related charges arising out of the same incident.

And there is an awesome article on Slate about Kowalski v. Tesmer, a Sixth Amendment case the Court decided recently. I must admit that I am absolutely ASHAMED that I had not read this opinion until today. The Sixth Amendment is my thing - I am all UP AND IN da biznass of ineffective assistance of counsel claims. (I waded through every, single, solitary Fourth and Fifth Circuit case on it last year for my note, and it just stuck. The Sixth Amendment is my favorite.) The article does a great job of demonstrating what a horrid, horrid decision this is.
Dear Blogger,

Thanks for posting those links a week late. I appreciate it. It makes me look like a complete tool, especially since I went ahead and posted them in a different post anyway, and then you posted them repeatedly. Thanks again!


Thursday, January 13, 2005

The quest for employment

Yesterday, I received exciting news. The agency that I had hoped would sponsor my fellowship agreed to explore my proposal. The head honcho gave the green light to develop this proposal, as I requested, with the input of some individuals in the agency. I think that means they will ultimately be willing to sponsor me, since the only thing I'm going to do from here on out is cater my broad objectives specifically to the process as it exists in that agency. Of course, my vision of this may be drastically different from the agency's vision. Essentially, I'm asking them to allow me to advocate for their incarcerated juvenile clients in matters tangential to their actual case. For instance, concerns about the institution itself, appropriate educational placement, mental health treatment, and/or community re-entry programs. I was thrilled that they said yes! But now, the uphill battle is actually SECURING the funding. That process does not happen until late spring / early summer and is competitive.

In the meantime, I received another callback interview with another organization. The bonus is that it's in the right geographic area. Another bonus is that it's direct client work with kids. The downside is that it's not criminal work. So this is just one more example of the "happy, then sad" rollercoaster I'm experiencing with all this job stuff. I have three callback interviews to be conducted: two at public defender agencies, and one at this children's advocacy agency. So what do I do? Do I base my decision on geography? The client population (juvenile vs. adult)? Criminal vs. civil? My absolute dream job would be the aforementioned fellowship, with a transition into the agency at the termination of my fellowship. Now that I've started the process, I'd look like an ass if I backed out to take another job, and there's a really good chance that I'd apply to this agency in the future. If I were offered a job elsewhere before July, what should I do with the fellowship thing? Should I turn down any job offers and hope for the best? How in God's name could I turn down an ACTUAL job offer for the HOPE of a dream job, when I just asked my mother for the first time since I was 19 for some help to pay my heating bill?

Let's discuss for a moment the 'right geographical area' issue. I had a dream the other night that I let myself into Mr. Maybe's house one night and fell asleep in his bed. He came home later that night, drunk frmo a night out with his roommates, saw me in his bed, and slept in another room. When I woke up in his bed the next morning, I freaked out. What was I doing? Why was I there? Why did I think this was a good idea? I knew he'd be pissed at me, I knew he didn't want me there. So why did I do it? I was gathering my clothing and belongings, trying to sneak out of his room and out of his house without a confrontation - to just get away from having to hear what I didn't want to hear. But as I turned around, I saw him entering the room. "You need to give me your key," he said firmly. Just as firmly I replied, "I think that's a good idea." So he examined each of the keys on my keychain as I chatted with his roommates and caught up on what I've missed since I'd been gone. I finally snatched my keychain out of Mr. Maybe's hand and said, "it's this key," and then his roommate reminded me that there was another one as well. I turned my back on Mr. Maybe, forgetting he was even there, and just kept socializing, albeit with a twinge of awkwardness. Then I left and went to a mall, where I saw an old friend, even though it was a mall to which I'd never been before, and the dream took off in another (rated G) direction that involved a scruffy janitor and a golden retriever.

What does that mean? He wants me to turn in the key to his house. To let go of whatever it is I'm still harboring. What the hell am I still harboring? Why is it that a guy I dated for less than a month still appears in such an emotional context in my dreams on a regular basis? I know part of it is that I'm afraid that if and when I go back, it won't be nearly as fun the second time around. I fear that I depend too much on my memory of him when I think about how great it would be to live there again. The only solution would be to go to a new city. So I really should scrap this fellowship idea, shouldn't I? (It just happens to be with his agency, although it's unlikely that we'd ever run into each other for work things - our jobs shouldn't really cross). Is it really possible that I'm tricking myself into thinking that my desire to go back has nothing to do with him? How do I know that's true if the man can't fucking leave me alone in my dreams?

I suppose what I need to do right now is just relax. I don't have so much as ONE offer, so I shouldn't concern myself with the 'what offer will I take or turn down?' question. In two prior critical decisions - what law school I'd attend, and my agonizing second summer job search - things just seemed to work themselves out. Of course, that's in retrospect. At the time, I was just as anxious as I am now - but I think decisions in my life have a way of weeding themselves out. I bet by the end of all this, my choice will be clear. Maybe I've never ended up 'where I was supposed to be all along' but maybe I've just been able to find a good purpose in everything I've done. So maybe, really, there is no 'right' place for me to be. So how 'bout I just chill the fuck out?

Easier said than done. It seems as though I've managed to break out in some sort of freakish red, bumpy, scar/hive/dry skin/rash thing on, of all places, my face. It is an undetermined condition of undetermined origin. God says, "You want something to worry about? I'll give you something to worry about," and then smites me with some sort of ... thing ... and my Inner Vanity is shrieking, trying to cut a deal with said Higher Power, like, "Ok, so I swear I'll NEVER throw away recyclables again if you just make this THING go away." I went to the doctor and I now have a treatment that should make my face look worse before it makes it look better. "Come back if it's not gone in 10 days," she said. TEN DAYS?!?!?!

My day ended on a wonderful note, with a 30 minute conversation with a client. I enjoy speaking with this client. She doesn't pay her rent, heat, or electricity bills on time, if at all. This has led to a tangled series of problems. But it was so good to talk to her, dig a little deeper about what was going on, and come away with a few chuckles (i.e., the rats playing baseball in her walls). She was distressed at how bad the welfare people made her feel every time she went into the office. I felt so pleased, when I got off the phone, that I wasn't one of the people in her life that made her feel that way. I can write a letter to her landlord, reminding him of his duties to keep up the property and demanding that he do so. It doesn't particularly bother me that she owes him money. It doesn't bother me that she hasn't managed to pay her bills despite numerous assistance programs - I can still make sure that every single one of those programs is doing what they're supposed to do and providing the benefits for which she is qualified. It was great to walk out of the office at the end of the day feeling like I can make use of all this nonesensical legal knowledge while interacting with people for whom I love working.

With my medical issues, and my increasing inability to rely on my own sense of direction, I'm anxious and tired. Tonight I turned down BBQ (I know! it's unpossible!) because I had my heart set on taking a short detour to the liquor store on my way home, picking up some Bailey's, and retiring on the couch in my pink silk pjs to watch the O.C. I need some quiet space right now. Particularly since my face resembles the surface of Mars.

California, here we come...

Today's Supreme Court decisions

Monday, January 10, 2005

New Year's Resolution #1: Success.

NYR #1: Drink more tequila. Ex post facto NYR #1.5: Especially on Mondays.

Done aaaand done.

If I loved my friends and my life any more right this second, I'd cease to exist in a blinding flash of light.

The good and the bad.

Good: Getting internet to work AGAIN after it mysteriously broke AGAIN.
Bad: Discovering that every time I try to post from work, it doesn't happen. All those links! "posted" from work for naught!

Good: Working 9 solid, hectic hours as a legal representative of the indigent, getting paid, and not being bored. That's, like, three good things. But I'll lump it as one.
Bad: Missing health services by 15 minutes and not sending that proposal off to the agency because had no time to sit in one place, much less make an extra phone call.

Excellent: Friends returning, running into them on the street, meeting them later for drinks.
Bad: Allowing trash and various piles of dishes and recycling to remain in the kitchen long after I should have considered doing something with it because I am going out with friends.

Good: XL Mochaccino (paid for with gift cert that I won for filling out a stupid survey that actually didn't apply to me) as a moment of de-stressing
Bad: XL Mochaccino, unlike spinach and calcium, is not on list of "things that are good for your diet"

Good: Sox winning World Series 2004
Even Better: shit-talking Yankee fans (or sheep, rather. you are all sheep. Baaaah.)

Irrelevant: Beltran to Mets.
Atrocious: Mets going for Delgado, too? Sweet merciful crap. Omar Minaya = George Jr?

Ok, so let me hit you with my links that totally set my day off to a crazy start:
To try to net killer, police ask small town's men for DNA
Sgt. David Perry of the Truro Police Department and other law enforcement authorities here say that the program is voluntary but that they will pay close attention to those who refuse to provide DNA.

"We're trying to find that person who has something to hide," Sergeant Perry said.


Judge stops pregnant woman from divorcing abuser
The American Civil Liberties Union and the Northwest Women's Law Center, an advocacy group in Seattle, have joined in Shawnna Hughes's appeal. If the ruling is upheld, they say, it not only amounts to discrimination, but also could establish a perverse incentive for an abusive husband to get his wife pregnant in order to force her to stay married.

And it could prompt some women to terminate their pregnancies to obtain a divorce, critics say.

Dahlia's Stand By Your Memos

Beltran could clear O's path to Delgado
Or not: Mets seek mtg with Delgado

Sunday, January 09, 2005

The Advocate
oh yeah - Beltran dissed the Astros. Where will he go next?

It's a question of dignity, really.

I was going to email Mr. Maybe. I'm drawing up this fellowship proposal that involves his agency. There's a chance that my proposal duplicates services they already offer, and since I have never worked for this agency, proposing something that already exists would make me look like a total ass to the agency, thus significantly lessening my chances of obtaining a fellowship with them. So I figured, hey, I'll call him, and let him know what I'm thinking, and he can tell me whether this already exists, or what already does exist, and then my proposal will be totally kick-ass.

Tonight, I put on weather-appropriate clothing in addition to my stunning t-shirt and sweatpant ensemble and trudged over to a friend's house. After a hot bowl of stew, some dart practice, and a surprisingly enlightening and insightful conversation with two guy friends, I decided against contacting Mr. Maybe. They completely called me out on the fact that I was mixing personal issues with professional issues. I don't deny it- that's why I was seeking their feedback. I mean, if I emailed him about the job stuff, his response or lack thereof would, in my mind, reflect on the status of our acquaintanceship. If he didn't email me back, I'd be upset and insulted. If he did, but limited it to answering my questions in a cursory fashion, I'd also hate him, and would be hurt and stung by his response. If he emailed me, and included a "hey, how are you? this is what I've been up to" then I'd read far more into it than it actually means. Even more importantly, I think I need to reinforce my desire to make my next move based on reality, and what's best for me, and not some brief shred of unrivaled passion that I encountered one summer.

After coming to that conclusion and putting back a brewsky with the boys, we played some darts and I convinced them to watch "Y Tu Mama Tambien" because I've been DYING to see it. I LOVED it. GREAT MOVIE! I saw "Maria Full of Grace" today and although I liked it, I thought Y Tu Mama Tambien was better. We drank lots more red wine, played more darts, did silly and ridiculous things with internet dating sites, and had more red wine. I've missed having the type of plain old vanilla night that is just really, really good.

Saturday, January 08, 2005

Blogging cliques

I can't help but notice that there are some mad crazy blog cliques in the blogs I read. Inevitably, they are formed the way friendships are formed - one blog introduces you to another, the second blog has much cooler friends, and you start hanging out on THEIR blog instead. There are a series of blogs that all seem to relate to one another, and refer to one another, write posts about one another, and sometimes they go on to create a mega-blog.

It's interesting to see virtual communities form, but there's something about it that makes me a little uncomfortable. I like that blogs are an open forum for stories, thoughts, ideas. When blogging cliques develop, it takes away from the idea that I should be a reader, because I'm not in the clique.

I defy cliques.

Friday, January 07, 2005

US Atty vs. District Atty

Odd, how the liberals begin to adopt federalism arguments when the
administration is conservative. Nevertheless, I feel very strongly that
the U.S. Attorney should not be sweeping into the community, charging
local gang members, and then using federal law to override the fact that
state law does not permit the death penalty.

This is an ongoing and bitter battle between the DA in Boston and the U.S
Attorney in Boston, as the article notes.

"A federal judge in Boston has given the government three weeks to
decide whether it will seek the death penalty against four men charged
with murdering rival gang members in a case slated for trial this


Thursday, January 06, 2005

If you really loved me,

you'd bring me a handle of Bailey's RIGHT NOW.

A mistrial!

Brief scare when evidence discharges

Tuesday, January 04, 2005

Law school parodies

Returning to the law school after a semester away, I had a lot of catching
up to do. I was reading an edition of the law school newspaper and came
across some delightfully witty articles, some real, and some parody. One
of the articles that I thought was cute addressed the lunch-stealing
crisis in the law school kitchen. I've been a victim of this vicious
crime only once. I figure, for the most part, no one is into stealing
salads, or cucumbers and hummus, or tuna and celery. But someone did go
for the cukes and hummus one day, and boy was I hungry after that.
Anyway, this tongue-in-cheek article discussing posted signs, indicating
that all victims should report the date and nature of the lunch crime, and
that perpetrators would be prosecuted.

Today, I went to the kitchen to heat up some soup and lo and behold, there
were the signs in all their earnest glory. Truly it was no joke. The
Dean did actually post signs indicating how to report the theft, and
notifying all of the intent to prosecute.

It's very funny.

In addition to being amused, I'm also secretly delighted. My friend had a
soda stolen almost daily from his lunch, entire days of meals were
disappearing, and let me tell you, when you're facing a 16 hr day at the
law school and you have no food or no desire to go grab the greasy pizza
and really bad Chinese food nearby AGAIN, it makes for a bad day.

Yesterday's articles.

My internet is down, so I have to blog from work, which is not my favorite
thing to do. And I'm not going to write out the html for the links, so
here are some links that I saw yesterday and never got to post.

Courts, Abortion, and Common Sense, by George Will:

Hard Time (an article on being a father and being incarcerated):

I received a second interview with one of the agencies from which I was
waiting to hear. Now I have two pending second interviews. I'm excited
that I was offered the interviews, but in the back of my mind, my desire
to go forward with the fellowship proposal that I dreamed up keeps
squishing any good feelings I have about other interviews.

Monday, January 03, 2005


It appears as though I will only have one scheduled class every day except
Wed, when I have class from 12:30-6:30 with only a 45 min break to haul
ass across campus for a touchy-feely course on race, language, and law
that is miraculously cross-listed in the law school. Sweet! Sadly, I
will graduate from law school, having never had less than 5 days of
classes, ever, in my life, at any school. I have one unscheduled class
that will take up a lot of time but that's fine, because it appears as
though I'll have plenty of it kicking around. I mean, assuming that I'm
not traveling in search of employment or anything.