dang it

I hab a cold. *sniff*  Guess my sinus system was next on the target list of the petty gods.

I also have oral arguments on Monday for my moot court case. Which brings me to the question: what if you are scheduled to argue in front of the real Supreme Court and you have a cold? Do you just get up there dragging a Kleenex box? Do you ask for a postponement? Do Supreme Court Justices even get colds?

I intend to argue with Kleenex box in hand, as my relationship to my client is wholly imaginary.

exam season is approaching

I, and all the students sitting near me, overheard the following conversation between two students today:

Female Stressed Student: I'm SO stressed. I can't focus, I can't think right. I wake up at night thinking about school. I'm just so, so stressed.

Sympathetic Female Friend, consolingly: It's that time of year. You need to take some time for yourself. Maybe you should get a massage or go for a walk.

Female Stressed Student, matter-of-factly: Actually, I really just need to get fucking laid.

Every single male student within hearing immediately swiveled their heads in the direction of Female Stressed Student.

Female Stressed Student, noting the rapt attention: Hm. Maybe I shouldn't have said that so loudly.

Sympathetic Female Friend:  Maybe just stick to some herbal teas. They make some really nice ones for stress.

Female Stressed Student:  Yeah, okay.

there are petty gods angry at me

There must be. Otherwise I cannot explain why everything must break at the same time.

This morning I took my car in for an overdue oil change and minor service. Finals are approaching, and I wanted to get it out of the way.

This afternoon, instead of picking up the car, it is staying another night. Brakes are almost gone, need to be replaced. My minor little service is going to cost at least $220 more than what I was expecting.

Stupid petty gods.

summary of my weekend so far

Bad: My trusty iBook started acting really screwy on Friday night.

Good: I regularly run back ups.

Bad: I hadn't backed up my photos recently, or my music.

Good: I had backed up everything else on Friday morning as part of regularly scheduled back up.

Bad: Husband and I realized on Saturday morning it was truly hosed.

Good: Husband volunteered to take it to the Apple store so I could go to spinning class.

Bad: Husband called from the Apple store. Beloved iBook is indeed quite ill. Logic board is dying, has to be replaced. Hard drive appears to be okay, but may need replacing as well.

Good: Husband takes existing backups and put all study notes and outlines on his laptop so I can study tomorrow as planned.

Bad: No longer have valid excuse not to study tomorrow.

Good: iBook still boots as a drive and we have Firewire. We successfully copy my entire hard drive to a friend's computer.

Bad: Wah! I don't want to deal with this now! Wah!

Good: Have AppleCare. Will take three days to fix and is fully covered.

Bad: Wah! Technology is annoying when it doesn't work perfectly.

Good: I could have lost everything. Instead we backed everything up, and I will get an overhauled iBook in a few days.

Good: Have saint for husband.

extreme close-up

In my Torts class, I sit in a raised row that the professor can approach and converse at eye level with those of us in the row.

Prof. Torts usually stays near the podium. However, he occasionally takes a walk, sometimes ending up directly in front of me, his face only a foot or so from mine and his arm leaning against my desk.

I find this disconcerting, even thought I like Prof. Torts. He can't see my laptop screen, but I still feel his eyes boring into mine, and I get terribly flustered.

Usually when he's that close I start IMing my friends, trying to appear like I'm writing down every word that's spoken so I don't have to look up at him. My friends are helpful and distract me.

Today, however, my helpful friend almost blew my cover.

Me: OMG. He's like a foot away.
Helpful friend: Reach over and give him a big smooch.

I turned bright red and immediately covered my mouth with my hand, biting on my cheek in an effort not to laugh out loud.

Me: That was NOT helpful.
HF: Just look into his eyes and THEN give him a smooch. That usually does the trick.
Me: You are so dead.

By now I was choking back a snort, the incongruity of the situation proving to be far too much for me. My friend C., sitting next to me and able to read the IM exchange on my screen, was grinning. A few rows away, I heard my friend cough suspiciously.

Luckily Prof. Torts moved away, barely preserving our masquerade as Serious Law Students for the duration of the class.

welcome back

Prof. Torts called on me today, my first class back from spring break.

"Ms. T.," he said sympathetically, "have you read for today? Even though it is the first day back from spring break?"

I had read, but I think he would have let me off the hook if I hadn't. Still, though, I thought it better to do a case on a day that the professors were all a bit sympathetic to our shock. I nodded.

"Please tell me about Tarasoff v. Regents of the University of California".

The case is interesting, and I briefly summarized. Posenjit Poddar was under the care of psychiatrists at a hospital in the University of California. Poddar indicated to one doctor that he intended to kill Tatiana Tarasoff because she had spurned his advances. Hearing this, the doctor had Poddar confined to the hospital, but then, despite disagreement among psychiatrists as to whether any further action should be taken, Poddar was released. Shortly thereafter, he stabbed Tarasoff to death. Her grieving parents brought an action against the psychiatrists, claiming that Tarasoff's death proximately resulted from the doctors' failure to warn either Tarasoff or others.

It's a tough case. Tell the police or Tarasoff herself, and the doctor is breaching patient confidentiality and accusing a man of potential violence rather than an actual crime. Don't tell, and an innocent woman is murdered.

Prof. Torts asked me what the court decided. The California Supreme Court held that Tarasoff's death did proximately result from the doctors' failure to warn Tarasoff, holding further that the risk that an innocent person might be murdered outweighed the possibility that a patient might be falsely accused of potential violence or that there could be a breach of doctor-patient confidentiality.

"Do you think that lawyers should be held to the same standard as doctors in this case?"

"Yes," I answered truthfully, "but I hope I never have to make that call."

Prof. Torts looked compassionately at me for a moment. "Yes," he said, "I hope you never have to make that call either."

but i don't wanna

School starts again tomorrow, and like a sulky fourth grader, I am displeased.

Never mind that I (usually) like school. That would be the rational half of my brain talking, the side which is entirely drowned out by the more vociferous objections of my subconscious.

No, this side of the brain is more concerned with reading books in the sun, or hiking, or doing not much of anything. It is unconcerned with working or studying.

Alas, I have discovered a sad aspect to an otherwise wonderful concept. It ends!

irritating people

It's the last day of spring break. It's beautiful out.

So, am I out enjoying the weather? No. I am not.

I am on hold with a domain company that I do not use. Why? Because some idiot is apparently engaged in particularly lame attempt to hijack my own domain.

(Note to hijackers: when attempting to hijack a domain using a forged email address from the domain itself, do recall that the owner of the domain generally gets all email to the domain, thus making it possible for that owner to request your password, log into your account, and examine your transfer request.)

I don't even think this attempt is real, because it's so phenomonally lame, but I have to check anyhow to make sure that there is no transfer. This is not time well spent. I can't even learn anything about domain hijacks from this guy. He's basically a spammer, I think, spamming transfer requests.

Grumble. Very annoying.

happy st. patrick's day

While out enjoying the gorgeous spring weather, I passed a traditionally dressed Indian woman with a long thick black braid. Her sari was a lovely light green, and she had a matching ribbon holding the end of her braid.

As I glanced at her, I noticed a small, tasteful, but unmistakably clover-shaped pin attached to her top.

I'm not remotely Irish, despite what my professors think. However, I did work in Dublin for a little while, and I miss it. Ireland is a wonderful place, and the Irish are remarkably talented at making strangers feel welcome.

Therefore I encourage the widespread adoption of a day that honors the Irish, and will cheerfully toast to any and all manifestations of St. Patrick's Day, especially a green sari.

Sláinte, everybody!

a lesson learned

I have been so focused on getting to spring break that I haven't blogged about my summer job search. It's done, and I'm happy with my summer plans.

I now offer a helpful tip for any former software engineers doing law interviews:

These are not engineering interviews. There are no trick questions, no nasty coding questions, no "how many different ways can you cut this shape using only four lines" questions.

As you may have inferred, this was information that I did not know prior to my first legal interview.

So, approximately a month ago, I found myself sitting in front of an actual lawyer in an actual law firm. This alone was nerve-wracking enough (Am I really cut out to be a lawyer? Is this really what I want to do? Do I look like a dork?), but the wait for that hardball legal question made it worse.

The first lawyer went through a standard series of questions: "What sort of law do you want to practice?" "What classes have you enjoyed the most?" "Tell me about your former job."

I could tell he wasn't the hardballer, and relaxed into a friendly conversation with the man, who was quite nice.

"It's going to be the next one," I thought, and mentally walked through my list of potential hardball questions. In preparation for my interview, I had reviewed my outines and invented questions. I didn't think this firm would ask any criminal law questions, but I thought property might be a possibility, or perhaps standard civil procedure. Mind you, I did this during the height of moot court brief writing, a time when I had very little free time.

(Subtext: I am a big dork.)

Of course, it wasn't the next one. It wasn't any of them, because as everybody other than me knew, lawyers don't ask legal questions in interviews, at least not to 1L summer associates.

On the plus side, I left the interview thinking it had been one of the friendliest interviews of my life. I also provided my friends with an entire lunch hour's worth of laughs. "You thought what?"

That, at least, is always a good cause.

spring break

Once again I am revelling in the glory that is life as a full-time student. I'm on spring break now.

It's still beautiful out. Yesterday evening my husband and I went for a walk by the water, my bare white legs making a public appearance for the first time in months.

Spring break is such a civilized concept. I think we should adopt it for everybody.

the tartness of torts

I think Torts is one of the contenders for my favorite class this semester. It's either that or Employment Discrimination.

What I like about Torts are the little snippets of everyday life that come out of the cases, the situations and accidents that we call upon our legal system to resolve. I like how one party's idea of common sense ("It's common sense, Your Honor!") is another party's idea of extravagant legal theory.

I like the legal smackdowns some of the judges deliver, as well.

Take the case of Hegel v. Langsam, a 1971 case from Ohio. The plaintiff in this case was a minor, a seventeen year old female. The complaint alleged that her university permitted her to "become associated with criminals, to be seduced, to become a drug user and further allowed her to be absent from her dormitory and failed to return her to her parents' custody on demand."

(On a side note, this sounds like the college experience of more than a few people I know.)

The judge, ruling that the university did not have a duty of care towards this woman, delivered the blow. "In our opinion, plaintiffs completely misconstrue the duties and functions of a university. A university is an institution for advancement of knowledge and learning. It is neither a nursery school, a boarding school nor a prison. No one is required to attend."

Hallelujah, Your Honor.

the happy happy dance

My moot court brief is complete and turned in. My T.A. sent an email with happy news:

"I am pleased to report that you have all passed the ten-error rule."

The ten-error rule in moot court is a requirement that all briefs contain less than ten errors. This is harder than it sounds. An error may be as simple as an extra return on one line, or incorrect use of ellipses. I passed with seven errors.

A brief that passes the rule will pass the class, and since this class is Pass/No Pass, and I have no interest in expending the energy required to win one of the moot court awards, I am in the clear.

The class itself isn't done. There is still oral argument to get through. But I don't care. My brief is done, the weather is gorgeous, and spring break is around the corner!

waves and more waves

During fall exams, JCA arranged a good luck chain for all of us 1Ls struggling through our first scary set of exams.

Today she's taking her Con Law exam.

Good luck waves back to JCA from here!

~~~~~ May you dominate the Fourteenth Amendment. ~~~~~

it's that time of year

I am beginning to realize how much harder it is going to be to study for spring finals than it was for winter finals.

I fear the lovely weather. When it's dull and rainy, I can hole myself up in my room for hours, a cup of hot tea on my desk and my cats curled up on my lap. When it's sunny, however, I lose all self-control.

It was beautiful out today, the kind of day where the run-down buildings in the law school shone and even the dour security guard smiled.

Unfortunately for me, my final printed copy of my moot court brief is due tomorrow.

A good, conscientious moot court student would have shut the blinds and hidden herself from the terribly distracting sun. I, sadly for the quality of my brief, was not that student.

I did, however, have a great day. After class got out at 1:30, I lunched with my friends in an open-air cafe. Then two of us put on our walking shoes and went for a long walk around the city. We walked for miles, meandering down streets full of spring flowers and feeling warm breezes on our bare legs.

I am not unhappy at all about my poor, languishing brief. Spring is here!

thank you smart formatting person!

I asked and I received.

Ambivalent Imbroglio, already one of my favorite fellow bloggers, shall hereby be referred to as St. AmbImb. I would never in a million years have figured out those steps.

My Table of Contents is done! Woo!

calling smart formatting people

It occured to me that while my cat might not be any help with my Table of Contents page, some of you might know more about Microsoft Word than me. (Believe me, this is a very low standard.)

I have a Table of Contents. I would like the format to look something like this:

SECTION 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .    1

SECTION 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .    5

CONCLUSION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .     10

These aren't the actual titles, and there are several more sections, but this gives you the idea. What I'm having trouble with is setting the tabstops correctly so that I can make the end of all the dots line up, and then a few spaces later, make all the numbers reliably line up.

I've been told there is some magic one can work with tabstops and margins, but as of yet my weak Word-fu has not discovered it. I just figured out what a section break is, which is a huge victory over my stubborn bottom of the page numbers -- they are now in proper format -- but these aligned page numbers are still eluding me.

Help, please?

my kingdom for a proper margin

I have been fighting with Microsoft Word and the final version of my moot court brief for the duration of this glorious Saturday night. Law school sure is fun.

My cat has been glaring at me because I am muttering choice editorial comments regarding Microsoft Word, Microsoft itself, Bill Gates, any code that Microsoft has had anything to do with, moot court, the police detective and the 17-yr-old, the Supreme Court for granting certiorari on the case, more Microsoft, and my cat, who shockingly cannot tell me how to properly align my table of contents page in Microsoft Word.

Grumble.

fashion tip of the day

If you're a visiting student who is considering my school, and you really, really want to wear a bright blue t-shirt which proudly announces that "Feminist Chicks Dig Me", please be sure that you're at least passably hot. Otherwise said feminist chicks will giggle loudly every time they pass you in the hallway.

On the other hand, you may be happy to know that you have inspired a group of giggly female law students to start referring to themselves as Feminist Chicks Nos. 1, 2, and 3. Because, um, we just dig you so much.

making an argument

I finally finished my first rework of my moot court brief, something which has been a major struggle. I still need to fix citation errors and some writing, but the major effort, the birthing of this argument, is over.

Thank goodness for blog readers. You people keep me inspired.

When I first posted about my predicament, Scheherazade Fowler responded immediately with a thoughtful email about how to act as an advocate, how to adopt my client's voice and concentrate on my client's needs. She also posted to her blog.

Following her advice, I started thinking of myself as the police detective in this case, rather than an outsider.

"You're not yourself," I lectured myself. "You're a police detective, trying to solve a murder, and unsure and unable to guess how old this kid is. You want to solve a murder, not intimidate a kid. You didn't know he would spill the beans. You were nice to him!"

It sounds silly when I write it, but it helped and it's how I started. I made myself into somebody I wasn't, somebody who didn't give the 17-year-old his Miranda rights, but thought it was okay.

Then I thought about what J Strizzy had to say, about how I should view this as practice for standing up to a judge with her mind already made up. She's right. I have to persuade my moot court professor, a supposedly impartial adjudicator who in reality is already decided on this case.

Finally I thought about what everybody else had said: This is practice. It's supposed to be hard. It isn't easy.

I got fired up.

I pored through the evidence we had, and read all the cases on point that I could find. I found law review articles that were related. I reread the cases, highlighter and sticky tabs ready. WestLaw feared my queries.

Slowly, it came together.

I don't think it's the most persuasive piece of writing I've ever done, or the most well-crafted. It's not going to win the moot court writing contest. However, I think it's the first serious piece of writing I've done where I argued for a side that was completely at odds with where I started. I advocated.