My clerkship has been quite an enlightening experience. Not only is this experience one that will be (and has been) an advantageous move for my career, but I am gaining insight that is priceless. The benefits beyond the demarcation on my resume - as if it was needed – having a “behind the scenes,” entirely hands on view of the judicial process is proving to be an undertaking that will ensure I can succeed in the future.
Having the ability to walk into a courtroom and understand what the judge wants to see, hear and act before any words leave my mouth and prior to stepping through the door, is extraordinary. I have trouble believing that attorneys can compete with persons who have had a judicial clerkship. Add the incredible knowledge of the inner workings of a Judge to the fact that Federal Court tends to be far more demanding and procedurally based, and the result is quite the vault to superb trial advocacy.
I am content knowing that most persons who are given the same access I have obtained end up at large corporate firms, making unbelievable amounts of money. My solace is not out of the want to earn mountains of money, but stems from my knowledge that very few attorneys I will be facing will have this same experience to boost their abilities. (It is also nice to know that I could possibly be doing the same.) Being a step ahead in more advanced running shoes gives me just enough confidence to be able to zealously advocate all the way to the finish line, no matter the race, and, perhaps, reach the tape as the winner.
My Judge is incredibly down-to-earth, caring, insightful, and unassuming – not to mention brilliant. He embraces each of his Clerks and Interns as a member of the team, ensuring we are all on the “same page” by conferencing with us. The fact that he is very much approachable is the ice cream in the cake. I have the confidence to walk up to any Judge (federal or otherwise), and start a conversation. Many of my peers have either exhibited or communicated hesitation when in the presence of or contact with a member of the Judiciary. When it comes down to it, confidence and proper self-projection is all that is needed.
Of my favorite experiences outside those with my own judge, the relationship I have been building with another is press-worthy.
Upon my arrival to Chambers, I usually approach the Courtroom Deputy (known as the Court Clerk in state courts) and ask if there is anything on the calendar. Two weeks ago, I stopped by her office and asked the normal questions. She informed me that the calendar for my judge was empty. As I began to walk away (after thanking her, of course) she stopped me in my tracks and notified me that there was a trial in progress two courtrooms down. She asked if I was interested in sitting-in on the proceedings, which I excitedly responded to with an excited affirmation.
As we walked down the hall that connects the four courtrooms on this floor of the building, the Courtroom Deputy of the court hosting the trial walked out of his office. My Court Deputy stopped him and inquired about the purported trial. He confirmed the rumor of a trial, and invited me to join he and the judge in the courtroom.
The courtroom is a spectacular, overwhelming place. The judge has to walk up a few stairs to his “bench.” The bench faces the public entrance to the room, and is so large that your eyes automatically focus directly on it upon the opening of the door. Behind the judge is a grandiose seal of the United States. To the Judge’s right is an American flag. A desk the length of the judge’s is tiered below and in front of the judge. At this enclosure, sits the courtroom deputy and the court reporter. To the right of the “Bench” is the jury box that is lined with over a dozen chairs. To the left of the Bench sits a small desk, near the entrance to the courtroom from the Chambers. At this desk a Clerk or Intern sits during the trial, and is situated in a very unassuming way. The witness box sits 8-to-10 feet in front of the clerk’s desk, and is an island that is enclosed to mid-chest-height on three sides (open on the side nearest to the clerk.) The witness faces the jury from across the room. The walls and desks are lined with a rich cherry wood. The ceiling sits fantastically high, and feature a frosted glass fixture no smaller than 10 feet by 10 feet. When entering the building an overwhelming feeling is undeniable. As one walks into the courtroom, you cannot help but feel an immensity of reverence and respect for the proceedings. It is a fantastic display of American tax money.
I explained the foregoing to give foundation for the proceeding. I took my place at the clerk’s desk in the courtroom, as the Deputy directed. The Judge entered, and the trial proceeded. It was boring and far from any practice in which I wish to engage. As a result of the trial, I know far-too much about IRS policies, investments, estate planning and accounting to be a happy person. Obviously, this is not what made it one of my favorite experiences outside those with my own judge.
During the middle of a trial, the judge stood up in his seat. An attorney was conducting the direct examination of a witness, when the judge turned towards me, and walked in my direction. Unaware of what he was doing, I gazed on wondering what he would do next. He approached my table and asked me my name and for whom I interned. When a judge asks you a question, you give him an answer, regardless of what is going on in the near proximity. After answering, he introduced himself, and proceeded to relay to me his thoughts about the performance and abilities of the attorneys conducting the trial. While I was wallowing in perplexity about what was occurring, one of the attorneys objected to a question. The judge abruptly ceased speaking with me and announced that the attorney would have to repeat the question to which the other attorney objected. As he sauntered back to the Bench, he looked at the jury and notified them that he usually hears everything, except when he is talking. The jury giggled, and the trial continued as if nothing occurred.
I sat at the table trying to digest what had occurred. I guess this is what happens when you have held position of high authority for over three decades and told that your job is secure for life. You stop caring what people think about you, and you do as you wish within the practical bounds of your position. This wandering and conversation during trial occurred multiple times throughout the remainder of the day. I really got a nice bite of the judicial apple. I definitely know exactly what the judge tastes.
I have picked up what I believe to be a great habit: I write thank you notes to people as a way network. The personal touch of handwriting is nearly always well-received, especially because we live in a digital society. I prepared and transmitted to the Judge a note thanking him for his time and warmth in court two days prior. I think it did the trick, thus building me a great connection to another judge.
I also recently was granted the opportunity to interview for a clerkship with the U.S. Attorney. Their offices are located a few floors below my judge’s chambers. The same people who would not respond to my inquiries and applications last year suddenly see me as a person of interest. I can only imagine this is because of my current internship with the federal judge; it seems to be a skeleton key to interview doors.
Anyhow, the interview was the shortest I have experienced to date. In a period of no more than five minutes, we progressed from start to finish, and may have forgotten to breath. I arrived in the office, only to sit and wait 15 minutes. Earlier that same day, I had the opportunity to see the interviewer in court, in front of the wandering judge. It was some great luck, as it opened the door for conversation about my clerkship, as well as adding a personal touch to the exchange.
When the Attorney Interviewer came to the waiting area, he ushered me in and began to power-walk towards the back of the office, where his work area was located. He was walking at such a feverish pace that I struggled to maintain a close proximity at a walking pace. I was at the threshold of jogging, but not quite there. It was an awkward situation. As we sped down the hallways, he asked me if I was a U.S. citizen. I replied that I am, and tried to keep my exhausted breathing under control while doing so. As we scurried about, he made a comment about the interview being the place where they see if my writing skills, application and resume match up with the interviewee. They also wished to see how I handled myself on-the-spot and in the flesh.
When we reached his office, he took out a file containing a load of papers. He searched through the file and pulled out a document that looked like my resume. I had to do a double-take, because it looked like my resume’s style, but was missing a whole page. I realized that he had removed the second page of my resume, which I considered rare. I couldn’t figure out why he chose the second page and not the first. As he started asking questions, I realized what he was after. Page two contains my involvements, awards and honors.
The first question was in regards to my position as editor of the law school newspaper. He wanted to know how many times it was published. His question was a lesson in interviewing: never assume you know what the interviewer wants to know. I told him that we publish once per semester, and sometimes do some smaller issues once or twice. Telling the truth paid off. He told me that he was satisfied that it was not going to take up too much of my time.
Good answer.
He then picked out a few of my awards and honors, wondering what they were for, or why I was a recipient. Immediately after, he stated that wrestling in college must have taken up a decent amount of time. I gave a stock answer, and we moved on. He wanted to know about the unemployment organization with whom I participate. After I explained in a summary fashion, he asked why I wanted to practice criminal law. This question has been rehearsed many times, as it is a regular interview question for criminal law organizations. I told him that I wanted to practice criminal law because money is petty. Civil law deals with things that are often unimportant and regularly boring. I would rather deal in lives. Criminal law requires more zealous advocacy, and, in addition, I have a passion for courtroom advocacy. Criminal law is the most assured way to be inside a courtroom instead of at a desk. After I gave my response, he asked me how I have attempted to get experience in trial advocacy. Upon listing the litany of experiences I have undertaken, I was cut off.
The interview ended, and the hurried pace was obviously for a reason. He explained that, should I get an offer, I would receive a packet in the mail. The packet would require me to answer questions about my past private and public life. Questions would include a listing of every place I have ever lived, every school I have attended, my work history, traffic tickets (I have none), arrests, citations, etc. He explained that 10-12 percent of people who submit for a background check do not pass for one reason or another. The background investigation would take no less than 90 days.
He asked me if I had any questions – he obviously wanted things to end, so I sat quietly. It was then that I realized that I never discussed my federal judicial clerkship. It was, of course, on my resume, but I was unable to discuss it in person.
As we left, he thanked me for my time. I told him that this was not inconvenient at all, as I work three floors above him. I then told him that it was I who was thankful for his time. As we walked back towards the exit, I decided that merely telling him that I worked three floors above was not enough to drive home my prized internship. It was time to bring out the “big guns.” I told him that I happened to see him in the wandering judge’s courtroom earlier in the day. I notified him that I saw him perform in court that day, though in a limited form (it was a sentencing). I think I got my point across.
He said that I would be notified of my status by Columbus Day. So, whenever Columbus Day occurs, I will know. I am not holding my breath on this one. Short interviews are never a good thing. However, when you interview with a governmental agency with an innumerable number of resources at their disposal, they know everything about you that they need or want to know.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Checkmate - September 25, 2008
Among the many ordeals I have currently pending in my life, the one with the Landlord seems to never go away. In the grand scheme of things, the hearing that took place today was another advancement of a single pawn in the game of chess that Roommate and I have been playing. The great thing about chess is that once you know how to play, the game becomes quite easy. The ease is heightened when your opponent hasn’t moved a piece in decades. In our game, every time we move a pawn, Bad Attorney thinks that we moved the king.
I recently brought in some reinforcements to help me play the game. I approached one of my most trustworthy and dedicated (and incredibly knowledgeable) friends to help me out. The case is a lesson in New York civil practice. Not only do I not know New York practice (I am well-versed in California Practice), but I want nothing to do with civil law (I am more of the uncivil type). So, when it came to NY civil practice, I only knew the basics of what I needed to do. My reinforcement, however, is quite the maverick of NY civil law. His background and interests lend him a great deal of credibility. He clerked for a NY civil judge over the summer, and did such an incredible job that the Judge refused to let him leave this semester. He has access to sample motions, pleadings, and other legal documents. His consultation with his judge gives us great insight. His ability to find out details about certain judges and their leanings and temperament is priceless. So, having a consultant to the game we are playing has proved very helpful.
While Bad Attorney wants a Check-Mate, we are attempting to keep the game going for as long as possible. I want to use up, waste and annoy Mr. Bad Attorney and his time as much as possible. It is hard to play a game to completion when your opponent simply seeks to make the game last for a highly burdensome amount of time. As it turns out, my friend (the Consultant) and I are really good at playing our game. Our phone conversations and in-person communication is usually filled with devious laughter. We are truly gaining some real world, highly practical experience. Law school cannot give you the education we are receiving. Our running joke is the starting of a pool at the law school where people try to select the day we actually begin trial. With the number of motions, complaints, interrogatories, demands and appeals we have ready to go, it looks like nothing will happen until at least the end of December. As I said, we are devious.
Our first step in wasting time was to adjourn our hearings numerous times. After we adjourned the case four times (we couldn’t keep it up for much longer), it was on to the next step. We decided on a date for a pre-trial conference. It is an off-the-record meeting between all parties and the judge. Nothing really gets done, but the judge is given an update on the case. Usually, a trial date is set during this meeting, but setting a trial date that early is amateur. During the conference, I talked the Judge into ordering us back for mediation. Mediation is step three. Mediation was today.
I set my alarm to give me more-than-enough time to move slowly in the morning. Waking up with more-than-enough time is predicated on your alarm clock not losing power and resetting. Forty-five minutes after we were scheduled to appear for mediation, I received a call from Roommate. Actually, it is better described as a wake-up call. I horridly showered, dressed, brushed and drove to the Courthouse, and arrive 30 minutes later. When I arrived, Roommate was all smiles. I quickly joined her in being jovial when she explained to me what had occurred before I arrived.
At 9:00 AM, roommate and Bad Attorney showed up at the Courthouse. They went into the courtroom to speak with the clerk. The fun, apparently, began to occur when the clerk became part of America’s Funniest Home Video (if we were recording the scene).
Surrounding Roommate and the Court Clerk were nearly one dozen attorneys and a few litigants. As the conversation between Roommate, Bad Attorney and the Clerk preceded, the attorneys and litigants who were listening in on the conversation, interjected themselves with incredulous comments aimed at how crazy Mr. Bad Attorney was acting. Mr. Bad, upon approaching the clerk, asked Roommate where I was. Roommate told Clerk and Bad that I was on my way, and was taking care of a few issues for she and I. Roommate, with a hint of jest, then said, “The real question is, where is your client.” Mr. Bad Attorney replied that his client (our landlord) is a working man and could not take of work. Roommate, unable to contain herself, responded, likely with a hint of incredulity, “What do you think I am? Every time I am here I miss either school or work. I am just as busy as your client.” Mr. Bad said that this case is taking up a lot of his time and money, and that he did not want to be there. With the onlookers waiting for the next retort, Roommates aimed to please. “You think I want to be here?” she asked. “I am not the one whofiled this case. I am not volunteering my time to adjudicate this matter. You are responbsible for bringing us here.” Obviously happy with the exchange, those watching the scene unfold responded with laughter.
When Bad Attorney started yelling at Roommate, a larger woman put her hands up, turned to Mr. Bad and said, “Shut your big mouth.” Mr. Bad responded that she should not be disrespectful and to dress well for court. He should have known to keep his mouth shut. This woman was obviously having none of his condescension. She said, “You need to be more respectful and just shut up.” This was definitely a comedic moment in time. It is a shame I missed it.
The eavesdroppers put in their thoughts, aghast that Landlord was not present for mediation. Simply put, to be ordered to mediation and have one of the litigants not show up is unheard-of. Roommate relayed our ongoing stance of refusal to talk with Mr. Bad (he lies, has no knowledge of the issues, and enjoys threats). The Clerk told Roommate and Attorney that we had no choice but to mediate because it was court-ordered. Roommate announced that it is not possible to mediate without the presence of one of the parties. Mr. Horrible Attorney (yes, he is getting worse) told the clerk that he didn’t even want to mediate any longer, and that he simply wanted to go to trial. The Clerk became angry with him, and told him again that he had no choice – as if saying it the first time was not enough.
The clerk was angry at Mr. Horrible, and announced to all attorneys present in the court, “Please, somebody help clean up this mess!” The announcement was met with laughter, and yielded an attorney who volunteered to be the mediator. Taking volunteers from attorneys to mediate is never good for the tenant. Nearly every landlord has legal counsel, but rarely does a tenant. This means that the number of landlord attorneys greatly outweighs the number of tenant attorneys. Tenants are definitely not well-served with a landlord attorney for obvious reasons. Luck was on our side today, as a tenant’s attorney was the one who volunteered. Our luck was further heightened as she was an alumna of our law school. Oh happy day.
Minutes before I arrived, the mediator asked Roommate for a brief synopsis of the case. When Mediator opened the court record, she read for a minute and then told Mr. Horrible that he had absolutely no case, and that no judge would find in his client’s favor. She told him that he was better off dismissing the case on the spot as it pertained to owed rent (the basis for us being in court). She told him that he could still seek money for alleged damage to the house, but that rent was a lost cause. Since he filed this case for rent, he would have to dismiss this case and re-file a new case for damages. I arrived just after Roommate, Mr. Horrible and Mediator wrote out a stipulation dismissing the case with prejudice. (A dismissal with prejudice means the matter cannot be refilled, recharged, or reasserted. The matter is dead; the case was given the same outcome as if Roommate and I had won and nothing was awarded to Landlord. A dismissal without prejudice can be refilled, and brought back for re-adjudication.) While they were awaiting my arrival, Horrible called Landlord. Roommate overheard Horrible ask Landlord if the carpet was damaged as bad as Landlord really said. When Horrible realized that Roommate could hear everything, he walked straight for the stairwell to get out of her earshot. When he returned, he notified her that they would not proceed in the future with damages for the carpet. They would only seek damages for the granite counter-tops and the dishwasher. Roommate and I both thought this was ironic, as we both thought the item most likely to render them recovery for damage was the carpet. Yes, we had some luck.
At one point, Roommate wanted to get things moving while we were waiting, and told Attorney that she would take the burden on behalf of the both of us. She would move the case solely into her name for the time being to get the case dismissed. Mr. Attorney told Roommate that doing so would not be fair for her. He felt that this entire ordeal and the damages being sought were a result of my actions, for the most part. He believed I was to blame for everything, and that I should be held accountable accordingly When Roommate notified me of this exchange, I told her this was a fantastic development. She wondered why I felt like that, so I informed her that if we ever get to trial, we will put Attorney on the stand to testify as an adverse witness, and we would get him to restate the fact that everything was mostly my fault. After this, we would introduce the fact that the lease was not signed by me. If we happened to lose the case, the damages would be apportioned according to percentage of fault, and since I was not a leaseholder, the damages they recovered would be decreased by the percentage of fault I was given. Win-win for us.
When I arrived, Mediator was glad to see me. I gave her my address for service of process. The address I used was my permanent address in California. Why make things easy on Mr. Horrible, right? When Horrible realized that the address was in California, he repeated a running theme of his morning: “I don’t think I will agree to this. I will just take the matter to trial.” The Mediator looked at me and inquired as to why I was not giving a New York address. I told her that the residence is semi-temporary, at best, and that in order to serve me, the process server would need to trespass to get to my front door. Mediator retorted that problematic service was not our problem, but an issue for Horrible to deal with. Our comedy fest continued, ushered on by Roommate and I continuing our ever-present laughter. Landlord’s one-liner was reintroduced. “I just think I will take this to trial,” he said.
The Mediator explained how service of process works (a cliff-notes version of those things we learned in first year civil procedure class.) When she explained a form of service of process known as nail and mail (the document is tacked to the front door and a copy is mailed by regular first-class mail and certified mail) Roommate interjected and said, “Yeah. They tried to do nail and mail last time, but forgot the mail part.” Mediator laughed, agreed, and we moved on. Horrible Attorney stated that he didn’t know where he was going to have to file the new case, and in what jurisdiction and court he would bring the new case. I gave Horrible a quick lesson in jurisdiction (again, a first year civil procedure teaching). I notified him that he could file the case in this same county, because this is where the transaction occurred. Roommate was joined by Mediator when she said, “I guess you are going to have to do some research.” After we were done teaching him how to be an Attorney, things moved forward.
When Horrible Attorney was talked out of the tree, we moved on. We amended the stipulation to dismiss the case with my New York address. Roommate then signed the stipulation. After she affixed her signature, Horrible Attorney repeated his catch-phrase. “I don’t think I want to sign this. I think we will just take this to trial.”
Mediator inquired, with great resentment and a tone of annoyance, as to why he wanted to back out this time. He said that he just didn’t feel comfortable with the stipulation. He did not want us to be able to bring an action for damages against he and his client. I incredulously retorted, trying to hide my laughter (though my smile gave away my perception of the matter), that Roommate and I could bring any action and raise any defense in court at any time. It was our right. He then made what I am ashamed to say was a good “catch” on his part. He did not want us to be able to bring an action to recover the deposit for the residence, as it was being applied to the last two months of our tenancy. Begrudgingly, (but not without confidence because of a sudden realization I had) Roommate and I agreed to amend the stipulation.
Mediator quickly got Horrible Attorney to sign the stipulation, in an effort to get this moving before he could, yet again, change his mind and back out. He signed the stipulation, and then I followed suit. As we walked towards the courtroom, Roommate and I laughing about the things that Horrible Attorney was saying and doing, the Mediator turned to Roommate and I, within close proximity of Mr. Horrible Attorney, and said, “Take my advice; do not go into Landlord/Tenant Law.”
I retorted, loud enough for Mr. Horrible Attorney to hear, but quiet enough to make it look like I did not want him to hear it, and said, “I think that is better advice for him.” Roommate, Mediator and I laughed as I nodded in Mr. Horrible’s direction. We walked into the courtroom with smiles on our faces – an unusual act in such a hostile court setting. As we sat down, I whispered to Roommate that we have an incredibly solid argument if, and when, he files a new case seeking damages.
Perplexed at how the stipulation gave rise to a great defense, she pushed me for more. I whispered, as quietly as possible so that I did not get yelled-at by the Clerk, that the stipulation states that our deposit was used for the last two months of rent. I explained that it is not the practice of Landlords to use a Tenant’s deposit to pay the last months of rent if there is any damage to the residence. To do so is monetary suicide for a landlord. Only a tenant who kept their residence in fantastic shape would be given the opportunity to use the deposit towards the rent.
Bingo!
We laughed and smiled jovially the entire time we sat in the gallery waiting for our case to be called, and the stipulation entered into the record. Our comedic attitude was made even better when we realized that Mr. Horrible Attorney was sitting across the room, staring at us with an upset and demeaned look. When our case was called, Roommate and I approached counsel table with smiles on our face; Mr. Horrible looked anything but happy. The clerk asked for us to state our appearances for the record. After I stated my name, the Clerk smiled and said, “Mr. H! You made it.” Her sincerity in being happy about my presence was confirmed as she announced in front of everybody as Roommate and I exited, “Thank you, Mr. H! Have a great day.” I have no idea why I made such a good impression on her, or why she was so happy to see me, but I will accept it as is. I turned to her, and said, “Thank you for your time. Have a great week!”
Roommate and I walked out with a triumphant feeling. We had out-practiced the Practitioner. We relished the glory of our win, and await the next time we face Mr. Horrible.
Roommate and I were ready to file a motion to dismiss the matter today. I had authored, researched and prepared the motion, and was looking forward to filing it today. Though the dismissal was a great victory, I was a little sad that the motion would have to wait until he filed a new case. What will be, will be.
For the record, I still have never met the man purported to be the landlord (Mr. Bad Attorney’s Client). What are the chances?
I recently brought in some reinforcements to help me play the game. I approached one of my most trustworthy and dedicated (and incredibly knowledgeable) friends to help me out. The case is a lesson in New York civil practice. Not only do I not know New York practice (I am well-versed in California Practice), but I want nothing to do with civil law (I am more of the uncivil type). So, when it came to NY civil practice, I only knew the basics of what I needed to do. My reinforcement, however, is quite the maverick of NY civil law. His background and interests lend him a great deal of credibility. He clerked for a NY civil judge over the summer, and did such an incredible job that the Judge refused to let him leave this semester. He has access to sample motions, pleadings, and other legal documents. His consultation with his judge gives us great insight. His ability to find out details about certain judges and their leanings and temperament is priceless. So, having a consultant to the game we are playing has proved very helpful.
While Bad Attorney wants a Check-Mate, we are attempting to keep the game going for as long as possible. I want to use up, waste and annoy Mr. Bad Attorney and his time as much as possible. It is hard to play a game to completion when your opponent simply seeks to make the game last for a highly burdensome amount of time. As it turns out, my friend (the Consultant) and I are really good at playing our game. Our phone conversations and in-person communication is usually filled with devious laughter. We are truly gaining some real world, highly practical experience. Law school cannot give you the education we are receiving. Our running joke is the starting of a pool at the law school where people try to select the day we actually begin trial. With the number of motions, complaints, interrogatories, demands and appeals we have ready to go, it looks like nothing will happen until at least the end of December. As I said, we are devious.
Our first step in wasting time was to adjourn our hearings numerous times. After we adjourned the case four times (we couldn’t keep it up for much longer), it was on to the next step. We decided on a date for a pre-trial conference. It is an off-the-record meeting between all parties and the judge. Nothing really gets done, but the judge is given an update on the case. Usually, a trial date is set during this meeting, but setting a trial date that early is amateur. During the conference, I talked the Judge into ordering us back for mediation. Mediation is step three. Mediation was today.
I set my alarm to give me more-than-enough time to move slowly in the morning. Waking up with more-than-enough time is predicated on your alarm clock not losing power and resetting. Forty-five minutes after we were scheduled to appear for mediation, I received a call from Roommate. Actually, it is better described as a wake-up call. I horridly showered, dressed, brushed and drove to the Courthouse, and arrive 30 minutes later. When I arrived, Roommate was all smiles. I quickly joined her in being jovial when she explained to me what had occurred before I arrived.
At 9:00 AM, roommate and Bad Attorney showed up at the Courthouse. They went into the courtroom to speak with the clerk. The fun, apparently, began to occur when the clerk became part of America’s Funniest Home Video (if we were recording the scene).
Surrounding Roommate and the Court Clerk were nearly one dozen attorneys and a few litigants. As the conversation between Roommate, Bad Attorney and the Clerk preceded, the attorneys and litigants who were listening in on the conversation, interjected themselves with incredulous comments aimed at how crazy Mr. Bad Attorney was acting. Mr. Bad, upon approaching the clerk, asked Roommate where I was. Roommate told Clerk and Bad that I was on my way, and was taking care of a few issues for she and I. Roommate, with a hint of jest, then said, “The real question is, where is your client.” Mr. Bad Attorney replied that his client (our landlord) is a working man and could not take of work. Roommate, unable to contain herself, responded, likely with a hint of incredulity, “What do you think I am? Every time I am here I miss either school or work. I am just as busy as your client.” Mr. Bad said that this case is taking up a lot of his time and money, and that he did not want to be there. With the onlookers waiting for the next retort, Roommates aimed to please. “You think I want to be here?” she asked. “I am not the one whofiled this case. I am not volunteering my time to adjudicate this matter. You are responbsible for bringing us here.” Obviously happy with the exchange, those watching the scene unfold responded with laughter.
When Bad Attorney started yelling at Roommate, a larger woman put her hands up, turned to Mr. Bad and said, “Shut your big mouth.” Mr. Bad responded that she should not be disrespectful and to dress well for court. He should have known to keep his mouth shut. This woman was obviously having none of his condescension. She said, “You need to be more respectful and just shut up.” This was definitely a comedic moment in time. It is a shame I missed it.
The eavesdroppers put in their thoughts, aghast that Landlord was not present for mediation. Simply put, to be ordered to mediation and have one of the litigants not show up is unheard-of. Roommate relayed our ongoing stance of refusal to talk with Mr. Bad (he lies, has no knowledge of the issues, and enjoys threats). The Clerk told Roommate and Attorney that we had no choice but to mediate because it was court-ordered. Roommate announced that it is not possible to mediate without the presence of one of the parties. Mr. Horrible Attorney (yes, he is getting worse) told the clerk that he didn’t even want to mediate any longer, and that he simply wanted to go to trial. The Clerk became angry with him, and told him again that he had no choice – as if saying it the first time was not enough.
The clerk was angry at Mr. Horrible, and announced to all attorneys present in the court, “Please, somebody help clean up this mess!” The announcement was met with laughter, and yielded an attorney who volunteered to be the mediator. Taking volunteers from attorneys to mediate is never good for the tenant. Nearly every landlord has legal counsel, but rarely does a tenant. This means that the number of landlord attorneys greatly outweighs the number of tenant attorneys. Tenants are definitely not well-served with a landlord attorney for obvious reasons. Luck was on our side today, as a tenant’s attorney was the one who volunteered. Our luck was further heightened as she was an alumna of our law school. Oh happy day.
Minutes before I arrived, the mediator asked Roommate for a brief synopsis of the case. When Mediator opened the court record, she read for a minute and then told Mr. Horrible that he had absolutely no case, and that no judge would find in his client’s favor. She told him that he was better off dismissing the case on the spot as it pertained to owed rent (the basis for us being in court). She told him that he could still seek money for alleged damage to the house, but that rent was a lost cause. Since he filed this case for rent, he would have to dismiss this case and re-file a new case for damages. I arrived just after Roommate, Mr. Horrible and Mediator wrote out a stipulation dismissing the case with prejudice. (A dismissal with prejudice means the matter cannot be refilled, recharged, or reasserted. The matter is dead; the case was given the same outcome as if Roommate and I had won and nothing was awarded to Landlord. A dismissal without prejudice can be refilled, and brought back for re-adjudication.) While they were awaiting my arrival, Horrible called Landlord. Roommate overheard Horrible ask Landlord if the carpet was damaged as bad as Landlord really said. When Horrible realized that Roommate could hear everything, he walked straight for the stairwell to get out of her earshot. When he returned, he notified her that they would not proceed in the future with damages for the carpet. They would only seek damages for the granite counter-tops and the dishwasher. Roommate and I both thought this was ironic, as we both thought the item most likely to render them recovery for damage was the carpet. Yes, we had some luck.
At one point, Roommate wanted to get things moving while we were waiting, and told Attorney that she would take the burden on behalf of the both of us. She would move the case solely into her name for the time being to get the case dismissed. Mr. Attorney told Roommate that doing so would not be fair for her. He felt that this entire ordeal and the damages being sought were a result of my actions, for the most part. He believed I was to blame for everything, and that I should be held accountable accordingly When Roommate notified me of this exchange, I told her this was a fantastic development. She wondered why I felt like that, so I informed her that if we ever get to trial, we will put Attorney on the stand to testify as an adverse witness, and we would get him to restate the fact that everything was mostly my fault. After this, we would introduce the fact that the lease was not signed by me. If we happened to lose the case, the damages would be apportioned according to percentage of fault, and since I was not a leaseholder, the damages they recovered would be decreased by the percentage of fault I was given. Win-win for us.
When I arrived, Mediator was glad to see me. I gave her my address for service of process. The address I used was my permanent address in California. Why make things easy on Mr. Horrible, right? When Horrible realized that the address was in California, he repeated a running theme of his morning: “I don’t think I will agree to this. I will just take the matter to trial.” The Mediator looked at me and inquired as to why I was not giving a New York address. I told her that the residence is semi-temporary, at best, and that in order to serve me, the process server would need to trespass to get to my front door. Mediator retorted that problematic service was not our problem, but an issue for Horrible to deal with. Our comedy fest continued, ushered on by Roommate and I continuing our ever-present laughter. Landlord’s one-liner was reintroduced. “I just think I will take this to trial,” he said.
The Mediator explained how service of process works (a cliff-notes version of those things we learned in first year civil procedure class.) When she explained a form of service of process known as nail and mail (the document is tacked to the front door and a copy is mailed by regular first-class mail and certified mail) Roommate interjected and said, “Yeah. They tried to do nail and mail last time, but forgot the mail part.” Mediator laughed, agreed, and we moved on. Horrible Attorney stated that he didn’t know where he was going to have to file the new case, and in what jurisdiction and court he would bring the new case. I gave Horrible a quick lesson in jurisdiction (again, a first year civil procedure teaching). I notified him that he could file the case in this same county, because this is where the transaction occurred. Roommate was joined by Mediator when she said, “I guess you are going to have to do some research.” After we were done teaching him how to be an Attorney, things moved forward.
When Horrible Attorney was talked out of the tree, we moved on. We amended the stipulation to dismiss the case with my New York address. Roommate then signed the stipulation. After she affixed her signature, Horrible Attorney repeated his catch-phrase. “I don’t think I want to sign this. I think we will just take this to trial.”
Mediator inquired, with great resentment and a tone of annoyance, as to why he wanted to back out this time. He said that he just didn’t feel comfortable with the stipulation. He did not want us to be able to bring an action for damages against he and his client. I incredulously retorted, trying to hide my laughter (though my smile gave away my perception of the matter), that Roommate and I could bring any action and raise any defense in court at any time. It was our right. He then made what I am ashamed to say was a good “catch” on his part. He did not want us to be able to bring an action to recover the deposit for the residence, as it was being applied to the last two months of our tenancy. Begrudgingly, (but not without confidence because of a sudden realization I had) Roommate and I agreed to amend the stipulation.
Mediator quickly got Horrible Attorney to sign the stipulation, in an effort to get this moving before he could, yet again, change his mind and back out. He signed the stipulation, and then I followed suit. As we walked towards the courtroom, Roommate and I laughing about the things that Horrible Attorney was saying and doing, the Mediator turned to Roommate and I, within close proximity of Mr. Horrible Attorney, and said, “Take my advice; do not go into Landlord/Tenant Law.”
I retorted, loud enough for Mr. Horrible Attorney to hear, but quiet enough to make it look like I did not want him to hear it, and said, “I think that is better advice for him.” Roommate, Mediator and I laughed as I nodded in Mr. Horrible’s direction. We walked into the courtroom with smiles on our faces – an unusual act in such a hostile court setting. As we sat down, I whispered to Roommate that we have an incredibly solid argument if, and when, he files a new case seeking damages.
Perplexed at how the stipulation gave rise to a great defense, she pushed me for more. I whispered, as quietly as possible so that I did not get yelled-at by the Clerk, that the stipulation states that our deposit was used for the last two months of rent. I explained that it is not the practice of Landlords to use a Tenant’s deposit to pay the last months of rent if there is any damage to the residence. To do so is monetary suicide for a landlord. Only a tenant who kept their residence in fantastic shape would be given the opportunity to use the deposit towards the rent.
Bingo!
We laughed and smiled jovially the entire time we sat in the gallery waiting for our case to be called, and the stipulation entered into the record. Our comedic attitude was made even better when we realized that Mr. Horrible Attorney was sitting across the room, staring at us with an upset and demeaned look. When our case was called, Roommate and I approached counsel table with smiles on our face; Mr. Horrible looked anything but happy. The clerk asked for us to state our appearances for the record. After I stated my name, the Clerk smiled and said, “Mr. H! You made it.” Her sincerity in being happy about my presence was confirmed as she announced in front of everybody as Roommate and I exited, “Thank you, Mr. H! Have a great day.” I have no idea why I made such a good impression on her, or why she was so happy to see me, but I will accept it as is. I turned to her, and said, “Thank you for your time. Have a great week!”
Roommate and I walked out with a triumphant feeling. We had out-practiced the Practitioner. We relished the glory of our win, and await the next time we face Mr. Horrible.
Roommate and I were ready to file a motion to dismiss the matter today. I had authored, researched and prepared the motion, and was looking forward to filing it today. Though the dismissal was a great victory, I was a little sad that the motion would have to wait until he filed a new case. What will be, will be.
For the record, I still have never met the man purported to be the landlord (Mr. Bad Attorney’s Client). What are the chances?
Thursday, September 18, 2008
The Small Things - September 18, 2008
In my twisted world of accomplishment and goal-setting, I set my sights on many odd and perplexing things. While others are content with doing things that are within the norm, I appreciate the baser things. One of the more simple, general acts that are part of the legal system is “service of process.” Movies and television programs have made this act sound exciting and glamorous, when, in fact, it is not a fun deed. There is a reason why there is not a reality show on TV featuring process servers. The system is more simple than saying, “You have just been served.” All that one must do to serve somebody with a legal document, is ascertain the identity of the individual served. After that, the person does not have to accept the papers, open the door, or converse. If the person being served refuses to take the papers, they can simply be dropped on the ground. After that, if the person does not look at the document, it is their problem.
My self-proclaimed “Double Crown” of Service this summer at the Public Defender was the service of an Assistant District Attorney and an Officer of the Law. I completed the Kentucky Derby of service during my time in Downtown Los Angeles. When the opportunity arose to serve the District Attorney, I jumped to volunteer. It was not as amusing as I had hoped, but it was a good experience nonetheless.
However, anybody can win the Kentucky Derby. The other races are what make a winner a champion.
My chance to complete the service duo arose on my last day in Compton Courthouse, which was also my last day of clerking for the summer. I was bored after my five weeks of interviewing over 75 clients, so I decided to watch the high profile trial that was occurring a few floor above me. The case featured two defendants who were allegedly involved in the robbery of a phone valued at less than 100 dollars. The prosecution flew in a witness from Texas (already bringing the cost of the trial over the total loss suffered in the alleged taking). During recesses, another clerk and I had the opportunity to interact with the two defense attorneys, one of whom was a Public Defender. At one point during a recess, the attorneys realized that a key Deputy Sheriff was not going to be called to the stand by the Prosecution to testify. The defense needed him to testify because he was necessary to the defense theories.
Upon this realization, the Attorney’s understood that their only choice was to subpoena the Deputy and that it must be done before the close of the court day. They looked at the other clerk and I, with a glazing ferocity. They looked us up and down. They turned to me and said, “H, how would you feel serving the Sheriff’s Department Watch Commander?”
“That would be perfectly fine,” I replied.
“Are you sure,” they inquired.
I looked at them, with a feeling of excited confidence. “Of course. That would be a good experience.”
“Really,” they said in a tone of disbelief likely resulting from my eagerness.
“Yes, really,” I said. Do not worry about it.
“Ok,” they began. “Good luck.”
I walked away excited to have the opportunity to serve a Sheriff’s Deputy with court documents. I figured that if I could handle (and understand) the service of process of a subpoena of an Officer of the Law, I could handle (and understand) the system. When the elevators doors closed on my way to the floor on which the Public Defender’s office was located, I was hit with a scary realization. I had no idea what to do.
I entered the office, drafted the subpoena and proof of service document, and rushed out of the office towards the elevators. On my way to the elevator, I ran into a Deputy Public Defender with whom I had worked extensively in the prior weeks. We exchanged some small talk. During our conversation, I dropped in the fact that I was on my way to serve a Deputy. At the end of the exchange he stopped me and said, “Did you say you were going to serve a Watch Commander?”
“Uh, yeah,” I responded hesitantly.
“Oh. Good luck.” He said.
I looked at him, with a look of disdain that can only be described as the threshold to utter hesitation about the act I was about to undertake. “Man. People keep saying that. I’m not even excited about this any longer.”
He laughed at me, and answered a few of my questions about the service of process. Satisfied that I actually did know what I was doing, I made my way to the ground floor of the courthouse where and walked towards the Sheriff’s Station.
As I walked through the door, into their office, I kept the subpoena and service papers low, below the desk so they could not see what I was there to do.
I asked the Deputy at the front desk to fetch the watch commander for me. “Who are you,” he asked.
“I am H,” I said.
“Well, Mr. H, is he expecting you?” he said.
“I don’t think he is,” I said, laughing on the inside.
A minute later the Watch Commander walked out. As he walked over, he asked me for my name. I told him who I was (but not where I was from), and followed up by asking for his name. Once he gave me his name, I took out the service of process form, and began writing his name, and filled in other requisite blanks. I turned to him, and began to explain to him what I was there to do.
H: I hate to be the bearer of, uh, bad news, but I need to serve this subpoena on you.
Watch Commander: (Upon taking the document from me) This is not for me.
H: I know, it is for a Deputy.
WC: He is not stationed here, you have to go to his station and serve it there.
H: Actually, you are a Watch Commander for the Sheriff’s Department. As such, I can serve a subpoena for any Deputy on any Watch Commander, including you.
WC: Well, I am not going to accept it.
H: Commander, you do not have to accept it, you know that (Sheriff Deputies are the people who regularly serve documents).
- What is your badge number?
WC: I am not giving it to you.
H: Deputy, if you were not going to give me your badge number, you probably should have covered up your badge.
At that point, I looked at his badge, and wrote down the number. I thanked the Watch Commander for his time. As I walked out, he told me, in a booming voice, “I am not taking the documents.”
I told him that “I am sorry you feel that way.” As I opened the door, I saw the Watch Commander storm off to the back reaches of the office, leaving the papers in a neat stack on the front counter. I walked out.
Service complete.
Let’s just say, it is a good thing I do not live in Los Angeles at the current time. The fury of vengeance knows no bounds to officers.
At least I completed my Double Crown. It was a fantastic way to end my summer clerkship.
While at Compton, I saw a great number of cases (the number of interviews stood at over 75, but I had a part on a great many more while there). The two other clerks and I were able to give great analysis to some of the cases on which we were asked to help. One of these cases featured a police chase, during which both the County Sheriff and local Police took part. The clerk who was assigned the case and I read through the documents and reports at length. We were looking for the missing link, the prized mistake of the case.
While reading through the police reports from both agencies, we came up with a great many theories. However, something did not seem right. We had a feeling the police “stretched the truth” on their reporting of the event. That is to say, something looked untruthful.
When we were near completion, an anomaly occurred to me. The deputy who wrote one report said that he searched the defendant’s vehicle while the other officers with him watched and secured the Defendant.
The police reports from the local police agency stated that they were not on the scene during the search, and that the Sheriff had the Defendant detained.
To the untrained eye, it seems that there is no problem. However, it hit me, very suddenly, that the reports did not support each other. I informed the other clerk that Deputy Sheriffs do not refer to themselves as “officers”, because they are Deputies; likewise, Police Officers are referred to as “officers”. Deputies do not like being called Officer, and Officers are not called Deputies. Therefore, the Sheriff’s report lied where they stated that the Police were on the scene. Something was obviously being covered up.
The other clerk called me crazy, and said he hadn’t before heard of this bifurcation in designation. When the Court Bailiff (A County Deputy Sheriff) walked into the room, I stopped him to ask a question. When I inquired as to how he refers to colleagues in the Sheriff's Department, he responded by saying “Deputy.” When asked how he refers to the local police, he said “Officer.” I pushed the envelope a bit by asking him if he would ever refer to a Deputy as Officer, or an Officer as “Deputy.” He said, never. He included that he will not correct people when they call him officer, but said that there is a definite designation between the two. Game. Set. Match.
It’s the small stuff that counts.
My self-proclaimed “Double Crown” of Service this summer at the Public Defender was the service of an Assistant District Attorney and an Officer of the Law. I completed the Kentucky Derby of service during my time in Downtown Los Angeles. When the opportunity arose to serve the District Attorney, I jumped to volunteer. It was not as amusing as I had hoped, but it was a good experience nonetheless.
However, anybody can win the Kentucky Derby. The other races are what make a winner a champion.
My chance to complete the service duo arose on my last day in Compton Courthouse, which was also my last day of clerking for the summer. I was bored after my five weeks of interviewing over 75 clients, so I decided to watch the high profile trial that was occurring a few floor above me. The case featured two defendants who were allegedly involved in the robbery of a phone valued at less than 100 dollars. The prosecution flew in a witness from Texas (already bringing the cost of the trial over the total loss suffered in the alleged taking). During recesses, another clerk and I had the opportunity to interact with the two defense attorneys, one of whom was a Public Defender. At one point during a recess, the attorneys realized that a key Deputy Sheriff was not going to be called to the stand by the Prosecution to testify. The defense needed him to testify because he was necessary to the defense theories.
Upon this realization, the Attorney’s understood that their only choice was to subpoena the Deputy and that it must be done before the close of the court day. They looked at the other clerk and I, with a glazing ferocity. They looked us up and down. They turned to me and said, “H, how would you feel serving the Sheriff’s Department Watch Commander?”
“That would be perfectly fine,” I replied.
“Are you sure,” they inquired.
I looked at them, with a feeling of excited confidence. “Of course. That would be a good experience.”
“Really,” they said in a tone of disbelief likely resulting from my eagerness.
“Yes, really,” I said. Do not worry about it.
“Ok,” they began. “Good luck.”
I walked away excited to have the opportunity to serve a Sheriff’s Deputy with court documents. I figured that if I could handle (and understand) the service of process of a subpoena of an Officer of the Law, I could handle (and understand) the system. When the elevators doors closed on my way to the floor on which the Public Defender’s office was located, I was hit with a scary realization. I had no idea what to do.
I entered the office, drafted the subpoena and proof of service document, and rushed out of the office towards the elevators. On my way to the elevator, I ran into a Deputy Public Defender with whom I had worked extensively in the prior weeks. We exchanged some small talk. During our conversation, I dropped in the fact that I was on my way to serve a Deputy. At the end of the exchange he stopped me and said, “Did you say you were going to serve a Watch Commander?”
“Uh, yeah,” I responded hesitantly.
“Oh. Good luck.” He said.
I looked at him, with a look of disdain that can only be described as the threshold to utter hesitation about the act I was about to undertake. “Man. People keep saying that. I’m not even excited about this any longer.”
He laughed at me, and answered a few of my questions about the service of process. Satisfied that I actually did know what I was doing, I made my way to the ground floor of the courthouse where and walked towards the Sheriff’s Station.
As I walked through the door, into their office, I kept the subpoena and service papers low, below the desk so they could not see what I was there to do.
I asked the Deputy at the front desk to fetch the watch commander for me. “Who are you,” he asked.
“I am H,” I said.
“Well, Mr. H, is he expecting you?” he said.
“I don’t think he is,” I said, laughing on the inside.
A minute later the Watch Commander walked out. As he walked over, he asked me for my name. I told him who I was (but not where I was from), and followed up by asking for his name. Once he gave me his name, I took out the service of process form, and began writing his name, and filled in other requisite blanks. I turned to him, and began to explain to him what I was there to do.
H: I hate to be the bearer of, uh, bad news, but I need to serve this subpoena on you.
Watch Commander: (Upon taking the document from me) This is not for me.
H: I know, it is for a Deputy.
WC: He is not stationed here, you have to go to his station and serve it there.
H: Actually, you are a Watch Commander for the Sheriff’s Department. As such, I can serve a subpoena for any Deputy on any Watch Commander, including you.
WC: Well, I am not going to accept it.
H: Commander, you do not have to accept it, you know that (Sheriff Deputies are the people who regularly serve documents).
- What is your badge number?
WC: I am not giving it to you.
H: Deputy, if you were not going to give me your badge number, you probably should have covered up your badge.
At that point, I looked at his badge, and wrote down the number. I thanked the Watch Commander for his time. As I walked out, he told me, in a booming voice, “I am not taking the documents.”
I told him that “I am sorry you feel that way.” As I opened the door, I saw the Watch Commander storm off to the back reaches of the office, leaving the papers in a neat stack on the front counter. I walked out.
Service complete.
Let’s just say, it is a good thing I do not live in Los Angeles at the current time. The fury of vengeance knows no bounds to officers.
At least I completed my Double Crown. It was a fantastic way to end my summer clerkship.
While at Compton, I saw a great number of cases (the number of interviews stood at over 75, but I had a part on a great many more while there). The two other clerks and I were able to give great analysis to some of the cases on which we were asked to help. One of these cases featured a police chase, during which both the County Sheriff and local Police took part. The clerk who was assigned the case and I read through the documents and reports at length. We were looking for the missing link, the prized mistake of the case.
While reading through the police reports from both agencies, we came up with a great many theories. However, something did not seem right. We had a feeling the police “stretched the truth” on their reporting of the event. That is to say, something looked untruthful.
When we were near completion, an anomaly occurred to me. The deputy who wrote one report said that he searched the defendant’s vehicle while the other officers with him watched and secured the Defendant.
The police reports from the local police agency stated that they were not on the scene during the search, and that the Sheriff had the Defendant detained.
To the untrained eye, it seems that there is no problem. However, it hit me, very suddenly, that the reports did not support each other. I informed the other clerk that Deputy Sheriffs do not refer to themselves as “officers”, because they are Deputies; likewise, Police Officers are referred to as “officers”. Deputies do not like being called Officer, and Officers are not called Deputies. Therefore, the Sheriff’s report lied where they stated that the Police were on the scene. Something was obviously being covered up.
The other clerk called me crazy, and said he hadn’t before heard of this bifurcation in designation. When the Court Bailiff (A County Deputy Sheriff) walked into the room, I stopped him to ask a question. When I inquired as to how he refers to colleagues in the Sheriff's Department, he responded by saying “Deputy.” When asked how he refers to the local police, he said “Officer.” I pushed the envelope a bit by asking him if he would ever refer to a Deputy as Officer, or an Officer as “Deputy.” He said, never. He included that he will not correct people when they call him officer, but said that there is a definite designation between the two. Game. Set. Match.
It’s the small stuff that counts.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Flummoxed - September 6-16, 2008
The past few weeks have been very hectic, for lack of a better term. My activities continue to grow, and my brother’s loathsome acquiescence to this idea (the ever building list of activities) has been anything but constructive. Needless to say, every time I tell my family about the newest thing I have undertaken, they respond with a great amount of perplexity. Let me list what I have going this semester, and we will work from there.
- Five classes (for a total of 16 units)
- Federal Judge Clerkship
- President of the largest student organization on campus
- Editor of the law school newspaper
- Legal Journal
- Fellowship work
- Co-Head Coach of a local High School Mock Trial team
- Writer for the law school’s Law Revue (Performance Sketch Comedy)
- Student Editor for a law reform project (will be discussed later)
Basically, I continue to suffer from the “yes” disease. Though the name suggests that I always say “yes”, the disease actually prohibits me from saying “no”. I have always been a sucker for involvement; and, let’s face it: I wish I could do more. Every activity offers me something different. I am a sucker for experiences. I had no desire to become a firefighter when I was 17, but the opportunity to “be” a firefighter was presented, and I took it upon myself to make the best of it by becoming a Fire Cadet. Though the activities have changed, the mentality has not.
My involvement in differing activities has opened a new door for each different undertaking. Everything offers something that the other activity did not. I guess this is why I get so involved. Sometimes, I did not expect or solicit the opportunity to get involved (like the law revue and law school newspaper); they just happen to fall into my lap by chance (sometimes people suggest it is a recognition of my character, but I do not accept that as the truth).
Let’s first start with the federal judicial clerkship.
For those not in the “legal know,” a federal judicial clerkship is the gold standard for clerkships and internships while in law school, and post-graduate internships. Basically, everything else is bronze and silver; it does not get any better than clerking for a federal judge. As a result, obtaining a federal clerkship is incredibly difficult. Everybody wants one, but one rarely gets it. I applied for the position over the summer without lending much credibility to the submission. I did not feel I had the credentials to obtain the clerkship, especially where NYU and Columbia is so very near to my school.
While I was clerking over the summer, I received a call from a New York phone number that I did not recognize. While I usually do not pick up numbers that I do not recognize, I broke my rule and answered. The caller was from the chambers of a federal judge. My surprised reply to her introduction was met with a hint of laughter. We scheduled an interview and I hang up the phone in a very surprised mood.
As we neared the interview date in August, I interviewed with (and subsequently accepted) a county court clerkship with a judge. I was not going to kid myself: there was no way I was going to get past an interview with the federal judge. A few days after I accepted the county clerkship, I received another call from the federal judge’s chambers. The caller notified me that the judge would not be able to interview me on the scheduled date because he would be on vacation. We rescheduled the interview for the last week of August. Before we hung up the phone, I decided to take a very aggressive and confident stance: I realized that school would have been two weeks into the year by the time I interviewed. I told the caller that I wanted to interview earlier, as I wished to get class credit for the internship. Two weeks into the year was simply too late to get credit for the job. She asked me to hold while she consulted the judge. When she came back onto the line, she notified me that the judge was going to stay in the chambers until 4:00PM, and was staying just for me. She asked me how quickly I could get there.
I dropped everything I was doing, threw on my cleanest suit and put a pin in my lapel. I had never before worn a pin in my lapel, but I decided to crank up the steam. I drove to the federal courthouse, and walked into the chambers. There, I was greeted by two of the judge’s post-graduate law clerks who did the first phase of the interview. One noticed the pin in my lapel, and inquired as to its significance. She thought it was like wearing an American flag, which is very self-serving and not very endearing in court these days. When I told her the pin’s meaning, it opened a new door of questions and their answers. I had put on my Eagle Scout pin.
At the conclusion of phase one, the two clerks looked at each other. One said, “Should we get the judge?” To which the other responded, “Yes.” Upon their confirmatory nods, one left to fetch the judge. The judge came into the room, fetched me, and brought me into his lavish office. The interview went incredibly well. At the very end he concluded the conversation by saying, “You do not have to answer now, but I am going to offer you the position.”
My response was between gasps of excitement. “I am going to answer now, and I am going to accept the offer,” I excitedly replied.
I could not ask for a much better placement. The judge is a very hands-on mentor. He talks to me before a case, briefs me on its facts and history to date before we walk into the courtroom. After the hearing, he sits down with me to discuss what he and I saw. He puts us in the position of a judge, and really helps all his clerks understand what he is seeing, thinking and doing.
Unlike other clerkships have had, this position expects that the person filling it knows what they are doing from the beginning. There is not learning curve; expectations are high. On my first day I had to teach myself and memorize the system of appeals and a slew of criminal procedure on the New York State and federal levels.
Needless to say: I enjoy this job. (And, yes. I had to call the county court to un-accept the position I had previously accepted. Doing so was not an easy task.)
My presidency of the largest student organization on campus (probably law school and undergrad included) has not been without its fair share of drama. I set very high expectations for those around me, have a unique and hard-to-achieve (though achievable) vision, and disgust for people who do not pull their weight. I am not always readily accepted, as people do not like being pushed to do work (even though it is their job to do so). Two of the board members have banded together to make my life miserable. They are progressively successful, but will likely fail in the end. Though not everybody likes me, most people underestimate me. There will likely be more on this at a later date, but that is all for now.
My Fellowship is increasingly time consuming. I have really taken to organizing the students involved with the program, and have been a key leader as a result. Each 2l IS ASSIGNED A NEW 1l FELLOW TO mentor. Because my year of fellows was smaller than normal, I ended up with two Mentees, instead of one. Both of these 1Ls have really taken to the Mentorship program, and I have become quite enthralled with the role I have taken as their mentor. Sheparding them through their law school experience has been uniquely gratifying. I have become a big brother to these two 1Ls, and our relationship is quickly becoming one of the first I have valued since I arrived in New York. (Don’t worry; I have my very close set of friends.)
Speaking of friends: my partner from last year dropped out of law school. He is in medical school now. Did not see that coming, at all. I knew he was pre-med in undergrad, but one never expects to make it through the first year of law school, only to drop out and go to med school. As a side note, I saw a dentist days before I came to New York to start law school. He told me that law school was too difficult for him. Apparently he completed the first year, only to drop out and go to dentistry school. Definitely not something you want to hear from somebody with “Dr.” in from of their name before you start law school. Anyhow, his departure has opened a new door for friendship with me.
My gigantic partner from yesteryear was close friends with another Gigantor. The gigantic man, we will call him Awesome, has a traditionally female name. Needless to say, he adapted to his name by becoming a huge man. Trust me: nobody makes fun of him for his name. Nobody.
Anyhow, Awesome is my vice president in the large student organization. He and I spoke a lot last year. He also tries cases, just like bad partner and I did. He used to come to me to discuss his cases because he and I knew we each knew what the other was doing in these cases. I gave him pointers on how to handle the judges, different sneaky courtroom tactics (like speaking over the testifying witness so that there was no record of bad answers on the tape) and general legal theories for cases. He is a really great guy.
Awesome and I have begun to talk more and more, and have grown very close. Any guy who is willing to help you move a large sectional couch on a one-day’s notice is a good friend. He and I have done a lot of errands and favors for each other, and is a truly reliable guy. (This is not characteristic of most New Yorkers.) So, we are becoming closer as the drama on the aforementioned organization becomes more hostile. He is well-spoken, very thoughtful and overly diplomatic, almost to a fault.) I am happy to have him around in this capacity. Having reliable friends is something I missed-and, sadly, left in California.
My involvement in the Law Revue is as funny as the kind of sketches that we have come up with. I received an email from the organizer of this brand new organization.
-----
From: Organizer
To: Me
Subject: You've Been Selected: Law Revue Writing Team
Congratulations! You've been either 1) handpicked by me or 2) suggested by someone else (most likely JL or the SBA President) or 3) volunteered yourself (or all three) as someone who is "smart funny" and highly capable of writing funny material for the Law Revue Show.
As a quick overview, in case you haven't read one of the thousands of flyers or e-mails or facebook messages... the Law Revue will be (once we write it) a show of musical and sketch comedy acts making fun of law school. I've attached a list of ideas that have been brainstormed already as a jumping off point. Feel free to embellish on them and to come up with your own concepts prior to the meeting and bring them along. Also feel free to come to the meeting with absolutely nothing and throw out ideas on the spot.
-----
Too bad they did not specify incredibly good looking as a requirement as well.
Anyhow, as I told the Mom (and my brother when he told me I was crazy for adding another activity-this is the latest addition to my schedule), this is my first outlet for fun. Everything else I do is exciting, a great opportunity, or a way to advance myself in the legal world, but this is where I get to have my fun. Just know that there is going to be a Blue Collar Comedy Tour spinoff of the “here’s Your Sign.” It will be called “Job Security” and will feature many of the stories us law students have from our clerkships. Trust me, I’ve got a few. There are a lot of song spoofs and interesting sketches. It will be a good time.
Being the Coach of the local High School’s Mock Trial program is interesting. The law school is situated in a city that is to Long Island what LAUSD is to Los Angeles. Basically, the school is rough, the graduation rate is very low, and the law is not a priority for most of the students. The law school has been attempting to reach out to the local community. What better way is there to reach out to the community, mentor promising students, and change young persons’ views of the legal system than to start and fund a mock trial team at the high school? The law school received earmarked funding for this flagship program that is being organized, coached and administered by law students. A 3L Fellow took on the main role, but there was a need to have a 2L take on the other top role so that the program would seamlessly continue from year-to-year. In the fellowship program, you either volunteer for a project or are assigned a project. Most of the projects are tedious, boring and not desirable. So, when the opportunity to do something fun and hands-on arises, you volunteer fast. That is exactly what I did. While the great majority of projects are usually research and legislation-based, this one is practical and fun. Yes, it is another responsibility, but it was either this, or something that would have me in front of a computer. I am very excited to help these young men and women embrace those things that I love about the law and its practice. This is a chance to make a difference that I could not do otherwise.
The Law Journal to which I was selected to join is becoming a major undertaking. We are expected to author a “student note”. These run around 25 pages in length. It does not sound like much. However, we are required to have no fewer than 120 endnotes. Basically, it is a research-intensive thesis. The note must be of publishable quality and undergoes an incredible long process of planning, proposing, writing, researching and editing. We have to do all of the above while enrolled full time in our classes. My topic intrigues me, and is something about which I am very passionate. It runs against the accepted norms, and challenges commonly accepted sentiment. More on this later.
Though last to be discussed, my highest priority has been my classes. I am finally taking courses that I like and can use. My criminal procedure professor has impressed me, and continues to do so every time I am in class. She takes an otherwise difficult to understand and complex topic, and instead of leaving us teaching ourselves and wanting to figure out what the cases actually hold, she breaks it down and makes the topic simple and understandable. I love how she teaches and the way she connects with students. She is very young, still in touch with our generation and teaches to us instead of lecturing at us. My constitutional law class is not interesting yet. It is a class I was looking forward to, as the topic is intriguing and pointed directly at my interests. So far, the professor’s lectures are self-serving, not helpful and not advancing my interest at al. This is quite a shame. Family law is a next-generational skills-based course. All I have learned is that it is always in the child’s best interests or up for interpretation. I am not learning too much about the law, and not advancing my knowledge or interest in the field of family law. I am just as unmoved by this field as I was when entering the first day of classes (if not more unenthused.) My evidence class continues to be fun and very practical. The professor has students stand up and argue objections to scenarios in class like they are in court. It is very useful, and I love this kind of stuff. My favorite parts of the law are those times when the law is concrete, but one must use logic and oration to coherently and concisely advocate for their position. The evidence code (when people stand up and object to testimony or the admission of evidence in court) is an assured area of the law that meets the above requirements.
Finally, I leave you with the most amusing assignment that I have received since I began on this trek:
“How many of you will drive a vehicle between now and Thursday?” my criminal procedure professor asked. As the great majority of hands in the class raised into the air, she relayed our next assignment.
“Just one time, see if you can drive without breaking ANY laws.”
We shall see how this goes. I guess this is our practical introduction to probable cause and police officer applications of it.
- Five classes (for a total of 16 units)
- Federal Judge Clerkship
- President of the largest student organization on campus
- Editor of the law school newspaper
- Legal Journal
- Fellowship work
- Co-Head Coach of a local High School Mock Trial team
- Writer for the law school’s Law Revue (Performance Sketch Comedy)
- Student Editor for a law reform project (will be discussed later)
Basically, I continue to suffer from the “yes” disease. Though the name suggests that I always say “yes”, the disease actually prohibits me from saying “no”. I have always been a sucker for involvement; and, let’s face it: I wish I could do more. Every activity offers me something different. I am a sucker for experiences. I had no desire to become a firefighter when I was 17, but the opportunity to “be” a firefighter was presented, and I took it upon myself to make the best of it by becoming a Fire Cadet. Though the activities have changed, the mentality has not.
My involvement in differing activities has opened a new door for each different undertaking. Everything offers something that the other activity did not. I guess this is why I get so involved. Sometimes, I did not expect or solicit the opportunity to get involved (like the law revue and law school newspaper); they just happen to fall into my lap by chance (sometimes people suggest it is a recognition of my character, but I do not accept that as the truth).
Let’s first start with the federal judicial clerkship.
For those not in the “legal know,” a federal judicial clerkship is the gold standard for clerkships and internships while in law school, and post-graduate internships. Basically, everything else is bronze and silver; it does not get any better than clerking for a federal judge. As a result, obtaining a federal clerkship is incredibly difficult. Everybody wants one, but one rarely gets it. I applied for the position over the summer without lending much credibility to the submission. I did not feel I had the credentials to obtain the clerkship, especially where NYU and Columbia is so very near to my school.
While I was clerking over the summer, I received a call from a New York phone number that I did not recognize. While I usually do not pick up numbers that I do not recognize, I broke my rule and answered. The caller was from the chambers of a federal judge. My surprised reply to her introduction was met with a hint of laughter. We scheduled an interview and I hang up the phone in a very surprised mood.
As we neared the interview date in August, I interviewed with (and subsequently accepted) a county court clerkship with a judge. I was not going to kid myself: there was no way I was going to get past an interview with the federal judge. A few days after I accepted the county clerkship, I received another call from the federal judge’s chambers. The caller notified me that the judge would not be able to interview me on the scheduled date because he would be on vacation. We rescheduled the interview for the last week of August. Before we hung up the phone, I decided to take a very aggressive and confident stance: I realized that school would have been two weeks into the year by the time I interviewed. I told the caller that I wanted to interview earlier, as I wished to get class credit for the internship. Two weeks into the year was simply too late to get credit for the job. She asked me to hold while she consulted the judge. When she came back onto the line, she notified me that the judge was going to stay in the chambers until 4:00PM, and was staying just for me. She asked me how quickly I could get there.
I dropped everything I was doing, threw on my cleanest suit and put a pin in my lapel. I had never before worn a pin in my lapel, but I decided to crank up the steam. I drove to the federal courthouse, and walked into the chambers. There, I was greeted by two of the judge’s post-graduate law clerks who did the first phase of the interview. One noticed the pin in my lapel, and inquired as to its significance. She thought it was like wearing an American flag, which is very self-serving and not very endearing in court these days. When I told her the pin’s meaning, it opened a new door of questions and their answers. I had put on my Eagle Scout pin.
At the conclusion of phase one, the two clerks looked at each other. One said, “Should we get the judge?” To which the other responded, “Yes.” Upon their confirmatory nods, one left to fetch the judge. The judge came into the room, fetched me, and brought me into his lavish office. The interview went incredibly well. At the very end he concluded the conversation by saying, “You do not have to answer now, but I am going to offer you the position.”
My response was between gasps of excitement. “I am going to answer now, and I am going to accept the offer,” I excitedly replied.
I could not ask for a much better placement. The judge is a very hands-on mentor. He talks to me before a case, briefs me on its facts and history to date before we walk into the courtroom. After the hearing, he sits down with me to discuss what he and I saw. He puts us in the position of a judge, and really helps all his clerks understand what he is seeing, thinking and doing.
Unlike other clerkships have had, this position expects that the person filling it knows what they are doing from the beginning. There is not learning curve; expectations are high. On my first day I had to teach myself and memorize the system of appeals and a slew of criminal procedure on the New York State and federal levels.
Needless to say: I enjoy this job. (And, yes. I had to call the county court to un-accept the position I had previously accepted. Doing so was not an easy task.)
My presidency of the largest student organization on campus (probably law school and undergrad included) has not been without its fair share of drama. I set very high expectations for those around me, have a unique and hard-to-achieve (though achievable) vision, and disgust for people who do not pull their weight. I am not always readily accepted, as people do not like being pushed to do work (even though it is their job to do so). Two of the board members have banded together to make my life miserable. They are progressively successful, but will likely fail in the end. Though not everybody likes me, most people underestimate me. There will likely be more on this at a later date, but that is all for now.
My Fellowship is increasingly time consuming. I have really taken to organizing the students involved with the program, and have been a key leader as a result. Each 2l IS ASSIGNED A NEW 1l FELLOW TO mentor. Because my year of fellows was smaller than normal, I ended up with two Mentees, instead of one. Both of these 1Ls have really taken to the Mentorship program, and I have become quite enthralled with the role I have taken as their mentor. Sheparding them through their law school experience has been uniquely gratifying. I have become a big brother to these two 1Ls, and our relationship is quickly becoming one of the first I have valued since I arrived in New York. (Don’t worry; I have my very close set of friends.)
Speaking of friends: my partner from last year dropped out of law school. He is in medical school now. Did not see that coming, at all. I knew he was pre-med in undergrad, but one never expects to make it through the first year of law school, only to drop out and go to med school. As a side note, I saw a dentist days before I came to New York to start law school. He told me that law school was too difficult for him. Apparently he completed the first year, only to drop out and go to dentistry school. Definitely not something you want to hear from somebody with “Dr.” in from of their name before you start law school. Anyhow, his departure has opened a new door for friendship with me.
My gigantic partner from yesteryear was close friends with another Gigantor. The gigantic man, we will call him Awesome, has a traditionally female name. Needless to say, he adapted to his name by becoming a huge man. Trust me: nobody makes fun of him for his name. Nobody.
Anyhow, Awesome is my vice president in the large student organization. He and I spoke a lot last year. He also tries cases, just like bad partner and I did. He used to come to me to discuss his cases because he and I knew we each knew what the other was doing in these cases. I gave him pointers on how to handle the judges, different sneaky courtroom tactics (like speaking over the testifying witness so that there was no record of bad answers on the tape) and general legal theories for cases. He is a really great guy.
Awesome and I have begun to talk more and more, and have grown very close. Any guy who is willing to help you move a large sectional couch on a one-day’s notice is a good friend. He and I have done a lot of errands and favors for each other, and is a truly reliable guy. (This is not characteristic of most New Yorkers.) So, we are becoming closer as the drama on the aforementioned organization becomes more hostile. He is well-spoken, very thoughtful and overly diplomatic, almost to a fault.) I am happy to have him around in this capacity. Having reliable friends is something I missed-and, sadly, left in California.
My involvement in the Law Revue is as funny as the kind of sketches that we have come up with. I received an email from the organizer of this brand new organization.
-----
From: Organizer
To: Me
Subject: You've Been Selected: Law Revue Writing Team
Congratulations! You've been either 1) handpicked by me or 2) suggested by someone else (most likely JL or the SBA President) or 3) volunteered yourself (or all three) as someone who is "smart funny" and highly capable of writing funny material for the Law Revue Show.
As a quick overview, in case you haven't read one of the thousands of flyers or e-mails or facebook messages... the Law Revue will be (once we write it) a show of musical and sketch comedy acts making fun of law school. I've attached a list of ideas that have been brainstormed already as a jumping off point. Feel free to embellish on them and to come up with your own concepts prior to the meeting and bring them along. Also feel free to come to the meeting with absolutely nothing and throw out ideas on the spot.
-----
Too bad they did not specify incredibly good looking as a requirement as well.
Anyhow, as I told the Mom (and my brother when he told me I was crazy for adding another activity-this is the latest addition to my schedule), this is my first outlet for fun. Everything else I do is exciting, a great opportunity, or a way to advance myself in the legal world, but this is where I get to have my fun. Just know that there is going to be a Blue Collar Comedy Tour spinoff of the “here’s Your Sign.” It will be called “Job Security” and will feature many of the stories us law students have from our clerkships. Trust me, I’ve got a few. There are a lot of song spoofs and interesting sketches. It will be a good time.
Being the Coach of the local High School’s Mock Trial program is interesting. The law school is situated in a city that is to Long Island what LAUSD is to Los Angeles. Basically, the school is rough, the graduation rate is very low, and the law is not a priority for most of the students. The law school has been attempting to reach out to the local community. What better way is there to reach out to the community, mentor promising students, and change young persons’ views of the legal system than to start and fund a mock trial team at the high school? The law school received earmarked funding for this flagship program that is being organized, coached and administered by law students. A 3L Fellow took on the main role, but there was a need to have a 2L take on the other top role so that the program would seamlessly continue from year-to-year. In the fellowship program, you either volunteer for a project or are assigned a project. Most of the projects are tedious, boring and not desirable. So, when the opportunity to do something fun and hands-on arises, you volunteer fast. That is exactly what I did. While the great majority of projects are usually research and legislation-based, this one is practical and fun. Yes, it is another responsibility, but it was either this, or something that would have me in front of a computer. I am very excited to help these young men and women embrace those things that I love about the law and its practice. This is a chance to make a difference that I could not do otherwise.
The Law Journal to which I was selected to join is becoming a major undertaking. We are expected to author a “student note”. These run around 25 pages in length. It does not sound like much. However, we are required to have no fewer than 120 endnotes. Basically, it is a research-intensive thesis. The note must be of publishable quality and undergoes an incredible long process of planning, proposing, writing, researching and editing. We have to do all of the above while enrolled full time in our classes. My topic intrigues me, and is something about which I am very passionate. It runs against the accepted norms, and challenges commonly accepted sentiment. More on this later.
Though last to be discussed, my highest priority has been my classes. I am finally taking courses that I like and can use. My criminal procedure professor has impressed me, and continues to do so every time I am in class. She takes an otherwise difficult to understand and complex topic, and instead of leaving us teaching ourselves and wanting to figure out what the cases actually hold, she breaks it down and makes the topic simple and understandable. I love how she teaches and the way she connects with students. She is very young, still in touch with our generation and teaches to us instead of lecturing at us. My constitutional law class is not interesting yet. It is a class I was looking forward to, as the topic is intriguing and pointed directly at my interests. So far, the professor’s lectures are self-serving, not helpful and not advancing my interest at al. This is quite a shame. Family law is a next-generational skills-based course. All I have learned is that it is always in the child’s best interests or up for interpretation. I am not learning too much about the law, and not advancing my knowledge or interest in the field of family law. I am just as unmoved by this field as I was when entering the first day of classes (if not more unenthused.) My evidence class continues to be fun and very practical. The professor has students stand up and argue objections to scenarios in class like they are in court. It is very useful, and I love this kind of stuff. My favorite parts of the law are those times when the law is concrete, but one must use logic and oration to coherently and concisely advocate for their position. The evidence code (when people stand up and object to testimony or the admission of evidence in court) is an assured area of the law that meets the above requirements.
Finally, I leave you with the most amusing assignment that I have received since I began on this trek:
“How many of you will drive a vehicle between now and Thursday?” my criminal procedure professor asked. As the great majority of hands in the class raised into the air, she relayed our next assignment.
“Just one time, see if you can drive without breaking ANY laws.”
We shall see how this goes. I guess this is our practical introduction to probable cause and police officer applications of it.
Monday, September 15, 2008
New Post Coming Soon
I will get one up if it kills me. Life has been far-too stressful and full of work lately.
I will try to get back to daily posts.
I will try to get back to daily posts.
Friday, September 5, 2008
I Do Not Follow - September 5, 2008
New York is a special place. Not just because of the splendid generosity of its citizens, but because of the circumstances in which I am regularly placed that cannot stop me from asking "Why?"
After running what was supposed to be a simple errand (which turned out to be a 4.5 hour quest) for one of my friends, I was placed in a humorous situation. It was one of the times where I cannot help but call my father. Let's face it: if we aren't laughing at life, life is laughing at us instead.
I was driving down a two-lane highway. It was just me and a few hundred of my favorite New Yorkers, lined up for "who knows" how far. We - meaning the "great" citizens of Long Island - were puttering along the highway. Of course, I started getting bored at the stop-and-go traffic (I blame the stop lights for the stopping and then going that we were experiencing--duh). When I get bored, I start noticing nuances around me that normally pass by without any thought. One of these nuances was an enormous construction vehicle. To any other person, it would have been a plain-old, run-of-the-mill truck, except I noticed that it had a bright orange sign tacked to the back of it that said "Construction Vehicle".
It was a good thing I knew that it was a construction vehicle, because I would have just thought it a regular truck. Lame. I know.
Anyhow, the greater amusement came when I read the next three words on the sign that was tacked to Captain Obvious' "Construction Vehicle": "Do Not Follow."
The hamsters started running the wheels in my head.
"Do not follow," I thought to myself. "Do not follow? I am on a two lane highway, what the heck else am I supposed to do?"
"Uh, I swear! I am not following you; I just happen to be going the same way!"
What brilliant person decided that the "Construction Vehicle" would need a sign announcing - nay, warning people - not to follow it. Now, I could understand were the sign worded "Super Secret, Awesome, Only-People-Who-Follow-This-Vehicle-Can-Live-Forever Vehicle: Do Not Follow". But this one made no sense.
That's why I called my Father immediately. He had to know the brilliance I had witnessed.
And, no: I was not following it. We were just going the same way.
--
Today was interesting. But, more on that tomorrow.
After running what was supposed to be a simple errand (which turned out to be a 4.5 hour quest) for one of my friends, I was placed in a humorous situation. It was one of the times where I cannot help but call my father. Let's face it: if we aren't laughing at life, life is laughing at us instead.
I was driving down a two-lane highway. It was just me and a few hundred of my favorite New Yorkers, lined up for "who knows" how far. We - meaning the "great" citizens of Long Island - were puttering along the highway. Of course, I started getting bored at the stop-and-go traffic (I blame the stop lights for the stopping and then going that we were experiencing--duh). When I get bored, I start noticing nuances around me that normally pass by without any thought. One of these nuances was an enormous construction vehicle. To any other person, it would have been a plain-old, run-of-the-mill truck, except I noticed that it had a bright orange sign tacked to the back of it that said "Construction Vehicle".
It was a good thing I knew that it was a construction vehicle, because I would have just thought it a regular truck. Lame. I know.
Anyhow, the greater amusement came when I read the next three words on the sign that was tacked to Captain Obvious' "Construction Vehicle": "Do Not Follow."
The hamsters started running the wheels in my head.
"Do not follow," I thought to myself. "Do not follow? I am on a two lane highway, what the heck else am I supposed to do?"
"Uh, I swear! I am not following you; I just happen to be going the same way!"
What brilliant person decided that the "Construction Vehicle" would need a sign announcing - nay, warning people - not to follow it. Now, I could understand were the sign worded "Super Secret, Awesome, Only-People-Who-Follow-This-Vehicle-Can-Live-Forever Vehicle: Do Not Follow". But this one made no sense.
That's why I called my Father immediately. He had to know the brilliance I had witnessed.
And, no: I was not following it. We were just going the same way.
--
Today was interesting. But, more on that tomorrow.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Feel Better - September 2, 2008
I realized that I am living a life that is far-too-stressful to be comfortable. This conniption arose upon my reading a friend’s blog. She writes quite a bit about me, often using my name. It is the next level of voyeuristic that I am not quite willing to undertake.
Every once in a while I read something endearing about myself. Sometimes it is implied, other times boldly outright. Today, as I browsed through the multiple entries I have missed in the friend’s blog, I was naturally drawn to the reproduction of my name in a few paragraphs. When I saw a blatant compliment, I did as I always do: I copied the section and web page, pasted it into an email and proceeded to send it to myself. Once received, I labeled and filed the message under the topic heading “Feel Better.” In that folder I keep every electronic correspondence that reminds me of the important stuff and the good qualities I possess. It makes me feel better (original, I know).
When you have a folder where you keep stuff to make you feel better, it is a sure sign that you don’t feel so great a good portion of the time.
Yeah, things need to change.
Every once in a while I read something endearing about myself. Sometimes it is implied, other times boldly outright. Today, as I browsed through the multiple entries I have missed in the friend’s blog, I was naturally drawn to the reproduction of my name in a few paragraphs. When I saw a blatant compliment, I did as I always do: I copied the section and web page, pasted it into an email and proceeded to send it to myself. Once received, I labeled and filed the message under the topic heading “Feel Better.” In that folder I keep every electronic correspondence that reminds me of the important stuff and the good qualities I possess. It makes me feel better (original, I know).
When you have a folder where you keep stuff to make you feel better, it is a sure sign that you don’t feel so great a good portion of the time.
Yeah, things need to change.
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