Honored Smiting - February 27, 2008

Lessons are just a part of my life. While others learn lessons on occasion, the big, omnipotent master planner smites me daily.

Here are a few reasons from this last week why I know Mr. Big Stuff is playing games with my life (followed by explanations below).

1. Advocate of the Year.
2. Property Class Discussion Shenanigans.
3. Contracts Class Has Become Study Hall.
4. Blood Letting.

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1. Advocate of the Year.

In a surprising turn of events, the "powers that be" somehow felt it necessary to award the honor of being named Advocate of the Year (for the organization in which I try the unemployment cases) to a first-year law student. Even stranger yet, they decided that, for the first time ever, the award would go to not one, but two advocates.

But, trust me. The irony of my life does not stop there.

My worthless, never-asked-a-question-on-the-record, take-credit-for-doing-nothing partner and I received a curious email from the President of the local chapter of the organization.

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can you meet me, at your convenience, before the end of the week?

I propose the Dunkin Donuts on Old Country road, directly across the street from the County Courthouse;

you have my cell

v

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When I received this email, I freaked. Who wouldn't?

So, I replied:

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It is going to be rough to get a solid amount of time this week, but I am free tomorrow from 2-4.

What is going on? This sounds bad.

-H

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Then, he replied:

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not a big deal; nothing to worry about. i'll even buy you guys coffee.
let me know.

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So, needless to say: I was an anxious mess leading up to the meeting today. What in the world could we have done wrong? As I told my partner, "We have taken the most cases out of any Advocates; we are bound to have screwed something up." I am just so happy free coffee is involved! That just made everything better. Come on.

When we showed up, he asked us about how we liked everything, how we were doing in school, how our hearings were/are, and other non-urgent questions that could have been answered over the phone or email. We were waiting for the buzz-kill.

After small talk for a lengthy period of time, he non-chalantly said the following:

"Oh yeah. You two are being recognized as the Advocates of the Year."

Wait a second. Can you repeat that for me? Advocates of the what? Year? There must be a mistake.

Alas, there was not. My Partner and I were recognized as the best and most highly valued Advocates out a great many persons. Good lord! We are only first-year law students.

As we were told about the award/honor, two thoughts quickly shot into my head. A) This is going to look great for jobs. And then, suddenly, B) Wait. Did they actually recognize my partner also?

As per the timing of this award with my stating the worth(lessness) of my partner: I know games are being played. My life is a giant ball of irony. However, as my Father so succinctly stated: "Welcome to the real world of law. In a law firm, the partners will take credit for your successes." Thank you Swami-Daddy. How right you are.

I tend to agree.

I am excited that I have my first permanent resume accomplishment. Talk about reinforcing good behavior - it is true that we are "getting so much better" (please read the sarcasm here). He also talked to us about paid summer positions doing exactly what we are doing now, as well as taking on the top leadership roles in the organization.

We have to go to a big banquet now to accept our award (which is supposedly a gavel). Good times. Go team.

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2. Property Class Shenanigans.

I tend to speak and be spoken to a great amount in this class. When I am not talking, I am engaged in great conversations via online messaging. Sometimes both occur.

During one class, I was having a very impassioned discussion with my Professor about something that was not worth remembering. We went back and forth. In the middle of the exchange, a window popped up on my computer.

"Fight! Fight! Fight!"
Then it flashed again: "Get it H. Handle the Professor."

These are not helpful messages when you are trying to have an educated exchange with a Professor. Thanks instant messenger.

But, for each distraction the program offers, there is an equally musing conversation that it allows. The following is my favorite thus far:

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Me: this blows
Friend: unfortunately it doesn't
Friend: that might be enjoyable
Friend: this is just god awful

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And lastly, the most recent debacle was a public policy question that my professor posed where I was one of just two hands raised in support of a very liberal ideal. I think that people just did not want to get called on to explain, so they went with the crowd. Darn me and my beliefs!

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3. Contracts Class Has Become Study Hall.

Must I repeat myself?

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4. Blood Letting.

A word to the wise: if you are going to donate blood, make sure that you eat breakfast and do not drink coffee prior. The nurse asked me if I ran to the location to donate because I had such a fast pulse. I also learned that they do not want you to write comments or specifics on their forms. Just when you thought it would be nice for them to have all the information about the blood they are receiving, they reprimand you. Sorry.

Seriously though, nearly fainting from planned blood-loss is never a good part of the day. I did get four boxes of apple juice, 2 packets of cheese-its and pizza. Helping others never tasted so good.

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Today was a relatively good day. Other than being smited with irony, no big complaints.

Five Minutes - February 26, 2008

Tuesday morning was another early morning (for the second week in a row). If this keeps up, my hatred for Tuesdays will beat out my dislike of Thursdays.

My groggy self did all the same morning deeds, except I was so very tired that I ran into more than my fair share of doors, walls and dogs. I make a brisk morning drive to the Department of Labor for my second hearing in two days.

This case is, by far, the most complicated case I have taken. I was sought out by another newly trained advocate (one of my classmates), and could not have been happier to have a new person to work with. I allowed her to pick a case - of course with advice - and she picked out quite the dizzying assignment.

The client has us dealing with far too many highly complex issues. We were juggling criminal charges, surveillance video, a collective bargaining agreement, union arbitration, and a litany of evidence as well as a host of other mind-bogglers. I had told my client that I advise that he not testify on the record because of the pending charges, because anything said in the labor hearing could be used as evidence in a court. As such, the plan was to ask the judge to adjourn and re-calendar the case; our showing of cause centered around the short amount of preparation and research time (one business day) that counsel had prior to the hearing as well as the pending criminal case.

Of course, as my luck goes, the Judge (surprisingly) denied the requests. I then told the Judge that my client would take a default and would later exercise his right to reopen the case when we believe the time sufficient. The hearing then came to a close, and not five minutes after we walked into the building, we were walking out.

As we left the hearing, my client turned to me and said, "You are going to have to explain to me what just happened." When we were outside of the opposing party's earshot, I explained what occurred, and how we will proceed.

As my partner and I walked away from my client, she then turned to me and asked, "You are going to have to explain to me what just happened."

I almost burst into laughter. Luckily, I refrained and re-explained what happened, and gave her a short list of reasons why we did what we did. A few hours later, I received an email from her. She was obviously very worried and uncomfortable with what occurred. She was also not happy with how very little she feels she is doing. I sent her back a letter outlining eight distinct reasons why she should not worry.

That letter is attached below.

Back to my work I go.

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The Response Letter…

Let's sit down and talk at some point today.

In the meantime, here are a few points to help settle your nerves:

1) He has two pending charges. Anything that is said on the record at the hearing would be admissible in court, and could be used against him. By taking the Default, we are protecting him from screwing himself.

2) The default does not mean the case is closed. The Default in unemployment law is like a preliminary ruling, except the ruling is only temporary. When we move to re-open the case, the default will be set aside, and we will proceed as normal. Basically, it is a temporary judgment subject to a new hearing.

3) He is desperate for money, and we both understand that. However, in the best case scenario, he wins the unemployment hearing and is found innocent in criminal court. Worst case scenario it that he loses both. However, he can win the unemployment and still lose the criminal case, or win the criminal case and lose the unemployment. Because the criminal case is more important, and because we need to consult with his criminal attorney, we basically have no choice but to give deference to the criminal case.

4) If he is proved innocent in criminal court, which looks likely given the very limited information we have gathered, we can use this in the unemployment hearing (via the judgment, testimony and the evidence presented) as evidence of wrongful termination.

5) Trust me, you are doing a great job and you are contributing a lot. I have had bad partners, and you are already doing better than most. Just having prepared the direct examination competently and being ready to go is a great contribution. It took me eight cases, one year clerking in a DA's office and being on one of the nation's best collegiate mock trial teams to get to where I am, so do not worry about how much you are or are not doing. We are partners in this case, and work to both supplement and complement each other where needed.

6) The case has not gone away, and we were only in the room for five minutes. So, there was not much to do. The other side did not even get a chance to speak. They are probably feeling great that a default judgment was entered, so they will have a false sense of security. They did not bring any evidence with them, they looked supremely unprepared, and they do not have any counsel. This is great for our client (and us). There is nothing to be worried about.

7) If you take your worse-case scenario, and our client gets screwed, we write an appeal and move for a new hearing. Not a bad option at all.

8) Imagine what would have happened had our client walked into the hearing without two people who knew what they were doing and how to proceed. Then you would have reason to worry.

Relax. Breathe. Everything will work itself out.

You rock!

Moral Support - February 25, 2008

Every once-in-a-while, things just lock into place, and this hearing was one of those times.

The hearing was a continuation of an adjourned case that was closed and rescheduled because we ran out of time at our last go-around.

My Partner was already "done" with his part. He had already not asked any questions the first time we were there. The Client is the really nice, very naturally believable one, so it made my job doing the direct examination a breeze. Unlike just about every other time, I got through the examination without being interrupted.

I was going to bring out background about his living situation (where he takes care of two mentally disabled kids, a mentally disabled and extreme diabetic Brother, a 17 year-old niece along with his wife - during my closing I was going to draw attention to the fact that he is the provider for a 17 year-old girl, enough to run anybody crazy), but decided against it as I thought the judge was going to disallow the line of questions for reasons of relevance.

However, the judge then began asking questions about his home and driving situation, drawing out reasons why he would ever be late to work. The Judge did my job for me.

It was spectacular.

After we were done with some spectacular questions and answers, the employer had a chance to cross-examine my client. What followed was even more beautiful, as every time he asked a question, my client gave him an answer he was not ready for. It was wonderful. After he asked a few questions, my Client was done.

The Judge then said that he wanted to, once again, telephone a witness from the employer (who had already testified via telephone at the previous hearing).

The Judge asked if we had anything to say before the call occurred, and I questioned the Judge's reasons for recalling the witness. He said he had questions to ask, if that was alright by me. I told him that I would love another opportunity to re-cross the witness, and to go right ahead.

This next part is key.

The Judge asked the employer if the manager would be available by phone again. The employer answered that the Manager was "ready and waiting by the phone for a call." (Keep this statement in mind for later.)

Once on the phone, the Judge asked a few questions, followed by some questions from the Employer. Then the Judge asked me if I had any questions. I told him that, in fact, I did.

My very first question to the Witness was regarding any conversations or discussions he may have had with his employer about this case and my client since my client's termination.

He answered, very surprisingly, "No. I have never spoken with my employer about this case."

I, obviously taken aback, asked a clarifying question.

"So, you are saying that you had no idea you would be getting a call today during the hearing."

Again, he answered "No." Deal sealer. Insert damaging character impeachment into my closing.

So, after a number of questions that he answered to my liking, I asked a final one, which the Judge stopped me from asking at first. I was trying to disprove an element of misconduct, that with which he was charged.

The Judge explained to me that I could easily get an answer from my client. I told him that I understood this, but wanted to hear it from the Employer's witness. I got the answers I wanted, and we proceeded to dismiss the witness.

After the call, the Judge asked if we had anything else, and I figured I had nothing to lose. I asked him to subpoena a witness, who we had not been able to get in touch with. He asked who the witness was, and all we had was a first name.

Unluckily, the name we had is one of the most common Latino first names in the world. The Judge turned to me and said, "Mr. H, you cannot be serious. Do not even get me started on how many people have that name."

I responded by saying that I understood the problem that this could potentially amount to, and that he had to give me at least some respect for trying.

He asked for an offer of proof - basically what the witness would provide and how we knew he would provide it.

I was unable to do so, and he told me what every judge in the world says: "No fishing expeditions in my room."

I said, "Understood. We are more than ready to proceed with closing arguments."

The Employer stumbled and mumbled along in his two line closing statement.

After he was "done," it was my turn

During the closing I drew the Judge's attention to the fact that, today, on the record, we have two very different statements, and that we have no reason to believe anything that was said.

I drew his attention to New York Labor Law, the employer's failure to meet his burden, and the fact that the employer himself said that this was an issue of performance, which is very different than misconduct.

I included a discussion regarding his living situation, and that there was no evidence of any warnings, verbal or written.

I also covered the fact that the Employer, in his closing argument, and during testimony was not even able to say that he verbally warned my client. All that he could say was that he "verbally coached" my client. I couldn't make that up if I tried

What in the world is "verbally coached" anyhow?

I finished the statement by re-emphasizing the fact that he worked for them for 7.5 years, and that each of those years he was given a bonus. Employers do not give bonuses to employees who do something wrong. I cited the Labor Law, and left the Judge with the statement: "Do what is just, do what the Law requires, reinstate benefits for my client..."

My Partner was stoked about the hearing. Everything went pretty darn well. As we were driving back to school, the guy turned to me and nearly made my spleen rupture from the internal laughter it provoked.

He said, "We are getting much better."

Yes. WE have done so much better. The four questions that you weren't allowed to ask this time were of a much higher quality than those that you weren't allowed to ask last time. Thanks for nothing, jerk.

I did not actually say that. He is big. This, I guess, is karma. I remember a time when I recruited him for his physical presence. I got exactly what I wanted. I got nothing more.

He wrote down all of two notes during the hearing, both of which he was writing down to assist me defend our client. The first one was completely wrong, and the second I obviously knew, because I was asking questions to prove it.

"Thanks, dude. Thanks for everything."

What is he good for?

Moral support.

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Closing Argument

My Client is a hard-working employee and caring provider for two disabled children and a wife. Mr. Client gives only his best, when others would give just enough to get do the job. He is a respectful man who values a hard day’s work. We know this because, for each of seven years prior to his termination, his Employer rewarded him with a sizeable monetary bonus.

Mr. Client was so very highly valued as an employee that the management fervently pushed and persuaded him to stay with the company, even under his known circumstances. They condoned and tacitly consented to Mr. Client’s situation. The Appeal Board has found that doing so removes the ability for the employer to claim misconduct. Mr. Employer, himself, could not even state outright that Mr. Client was ever warned. All that he could say was that Mr. Client was “verbally coached.”

When called into Mr. Employer’s office on his final day of employment, Mr. Employer warned Mr. Client, that “if he ever showed up late, even five minutes after 9:00AM, Mr. Client would be fired.” The firing then occurred suddenly and without discussion. He was warned about being late one minute, and then fired the very next. Mr. Employer did not even consult Mr. Client’s supervisor before terminating his employment. Something does not add up.

There was no company policy about lateness. There is no evidence of warnings about Mr. Client ever being late. The only evidence the employer could produce were timecards that not only have no identifying marks made by Mr. Client, but at least three other, very distinct handwritings, none of which belong to the him. Additionally, the signature line on each of the timecards is not signed by my Client.

Drawing Your Honor’s attention to New York Labor Law, the employer must demonstrate, using clear proof, that the employee acted knowingly and willfully in his actions in an attempt to disregard the employer's interests in a manner that was detrimental to the employer's interests. Not only has Mr. Client’s former employer failed to prove such, we know the opposite. In fact, the Employer and their witnesses unwittingly testified to these facts.

Finally, we know that somebody sitting here is lying. Today we heard Mr. Employer say one thing on the record, when the very next moment Mr. Employer’s own witness stated the opposite. Fortunately for my client, we now know which party is lying.

Mr. Client was a hard-working employee who received raises, promotions and bonuses. What we have here, is a man who has no reason to lie, while there is a company that has everything to lose.

Everybody loses their temper at one time or another. Unfortunately for Mr. Client, his boss lost his temper and fired him without reason. Find for Client – give him the unemployment benefits he justly deserves.

Wasted (Snow) Day - February 22, 2008

My Friday class had been rescheduled for earlier in the week. As a result, I had no class today. As is my luck, we received over five inches of frozen rain, and our first snow day.

What a complete waste.

"Stupid" Meeting - February 21, 2008

I knew Thursday was going to be fun before I went to sleep on Wednesday. It was not going to take any stroke of brilliance to know that I was going to have an interesting story to tell; I was slated to meet with the Professor of "Stupid Class".

The day started with two hours of Contracts. The senile professor never ceases to amaze me. I sometimes wish the class were longer. I get a serious amount of work done while the professor pontificates on nonsensical topics that boggle the mind.

After class, I made my way to the ground floor of the law school. I opened my computer, and entered a number into my phone. I needed to get an update from one of my clients who was not responding to our requests. After having a wonderful conversation with him about the reason for doing what my partner and I requested, I made my way to the professor's office for the meeting.

I had been engaged in an internal debate about whether I should just tell her exactly how much of a waste of time, boring and worthless the class has become to me, or whether I was going to sit quietly and pay her lip service. Until I opened my mouth to speak, the debate was not settled. As has become my nature, I just put it all on the table. I figured I had nothing to lose. After I told her how horrible the class was, I waited for her response. What she said next blew me away.

"I did not expect to hear anything different from you," she said.

Wow. Doth mine ear deceive me? No, she actually said that she expected me to say exactly what I said. Furthermore, she understood why I was saying what I did, and agreed that the class may be as I described it for me. She followed up these statements by concluding that the class is structured the way it is for a reason, and that I just need to stick with it.

After the meeting, I sat in the library for a few hours, readying myself for Civil Procedure.

The 50 minute class played into my prophetic visions. I plagued myself one again with the phrase: "I just know we are going to get called on today." My row had not before, in the 21 weeks of class, ever been called upon. As can be guessed, today was the day it would all change.

I was at the opposite end of the row from where he started. Sure enough, one-by-one, the professor mad his way closer to where I was seated. The closer he got, the more I felt the need to relieve my bladder.

I had nothing about which I should have worried. Civil Procedure is my strongest class, and the reading was not the most difficult we have had. Instead of waiting to be called upon, I raised my hand to answer a few questions. Megan sits to the right of me, and Michelle to the right of Megan. I started to volunteer myself to answer the questions to which I knew I was correct right after Michelle was called upon. Sadly for Megan, that left her as the perpetual next person to be called upon. Sure enough, when I ceased answering, questions were heaved in her direction. After much of the subject had been discussed, and as class began coming to a close, our professor discussed settlements in cases where there are a numerous amount of Plaintiffs, but one lone Defendant. He was trying to illustrate what happens when a number of Plaintiffs win verdicts of a relative number. I raised my hand, and gleefully completed the illustration by making an allusion to the television game show "Deal or No Deal". Met with laughter, I ended my day on a high note.

Later Thursday night, I watched the Democratic debate with Stacy. As she left, snow began to fall.

What a dandy day.

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Senile Professor Quote of the Day:

"All white guys look alike to me."

Out of the Comfort Zone – February 17 – 20, 2008

When Sunday arrived, I felt that I had more time than I could utilize. Before I could say “vested remainder in fee simple on executory limitation,” I found myself awake late at night on Wednesday plucking away at my keyboard.

I had forgotten what a simple change or exciting addition can add to life. I had been quietly wasting away – all alone and in a foreign state. My roommate and I invited some of our friends over to our house on Sunday for some board games and bottled fun. At some point during the night, my multi-tasking abilities took flight. I somehow set up a date with a girl in my class (the one who pointed out my vulgar statement to my Professor at his house). The date was slated for the very next day.

I awoke the very next morning (Monday) with a dead phone battery, and a high level of disbelief that I accomplished this feat in a very altered mental state. The wakeup on Monday was harsh. I had planned to utilize every hour possible to study the inside of my eye-sockets from the comfort of my bed, but this prophecy did not come to fruition.

Once my dead-phone was charged, I check to make certain that the asking and answer were as I remembered them. The phone displayed the good news. Date on.

The girl with whom I went out is not my "normal type." That is to say she is definitely out of my comfort-zone. The Monday Night Consortium went so much better than I expected. As it turns out, East Coast boys are without the same chivalrous actions with which I quickly became associated. I believe in a tried-and-true, tested-and-bested theorem on dating. Traditional, old-school or chivalrous – call it what you may – I believe in some basic conservative dating principles that I have fused to some very much 21st Century ideals. However, this theory is my theory. I share it with nobody.

Opening and holding the car and restaurant doors impressed the girl enough to make her actively advocate for a second date. I had a great time. It is so relieving to have found somebody with whom I see eye-to-eye on many things. I feel like I have an outlet onto which I can unload my problems – luckily, the outlet is located in very close proximity. Did I mention she lives two minutes from my house?

Anyhow, on Monday, when I dropped her off, I left her without a kiss, as is my normal practice on a first date. For some reason it really throws a curve-ball at most women. Who knows why? But, as my Brother says “those who slowly enter into a relationship, slowly leave (if at all). Those who move quickly, find themselves quickly through.” Fast-in, fast-out. I like to slow the bus down a bit and enjoy the scenery; I appreciate everything. Plus, I have time.

So, I have been seeing a lot of her ever since, and I enjoy every minute. I have, apparently, been noticeably more upbeat and easy going this week. I guess excitement is good for a law student every once-in-a-while.

Class on Tuesday morning was death. When the Professor told us class would begin at 8:30AM, my classmates and I did not realize how early it was in all actuality. The Appellate Advocacy class is normally on Fridays from 10:10AM to 12:00PM. For some unknown reason, the class was moved to the deathly morning hour on Tuesday. The only class I normally have on Tuesdays is my 50 minute Civil Procedure course which occurs in the afternoon. Basically, what I am trying to illustrate is that my day was ruined. I was tired the entire time, no information stuck in my head, and I zoned. I zoned for a long time. I was in the zone, but it was not one in which learning occurs.

I had planned on going home and undertaking some research and other work, (like reading, briefing and outlining) but found myself watching two episodes of Law & Order with the Lady. I cooked dinner – always impressive – and relaxed for the rest of the night.

Then came Wednesday.

Usually today comes with a serving of senile, and a side dish of G-d hates me. Contracts Class was an uneventful waste of time, as is par for the course. I would usually leave Contracts and head for the library for an hour. After the usual one-hour prep, I would attend Stupid Class. Dummy Class is canceled all this week so that we can attend one-on-one sessions with our Stupid Class Professor. My meeting is tomorrow. That should be a barrel of joy. Pray for me.

After spending the six hours in the library between Contracts Class and Property, I started to get a little antsy, and who would not?

Property was the same miserable mess that it has always been. Today, the Professor took what would have otherwise been a relatively simple rule and made it unbelievable confusing. I am sometimes amazed at how Law Professors can make even the simplest idea the most baffling policy imaginable. I just don’t get it.

During class, the Professor asked how we stand on a public policy issue dealing with adverse possession, community property, public interest and rich people. I was one of two people to raise my hand on one side of the issue. The other 118 students raised their hand to the opposite. Welcome to my life.

Because Lady and I are carpooling – we realized we should have been doing the carpooling thing since the beginning of the year because we live so darn close and have almost identical schedules – I drove her home. Somehow I got suckered in for dinner. She cooked soup and shrimp. We watched a few "girly" shows, and home I went.

This time she got her kiss. Leaving my comfort zone has brought me back to reality.

Comfort zones are overrated.
Sleep in underrated.

And scene.

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Property Professor, “Mr. R, what is the first step in applying the Rule Against Perpetuity?”
Mr. R, with a pseudo-raspy voice: “I’d love to answer, but I have bronchitis.”
Michelle, the girl to my left, my friend on instant messenger and myself in unplanned-unison: “B.S.”

Life in Six Words (Or Less)

Los Angeles Times Six Word Biographies

A friend's biography was recently published. The LA Times printed six words. Thousands of subscribers received the article. "Chinese immigrant loathing drama in Anaheim."

His life, shortened to six words.

I have not before solicited feedback. I now break my own rule. I am intrigued by this idea. Ernest Hemingway attempted this unlikely feat. His challenge: a six word novel. "For sale: baby shoes, never worn." Concise in form, but truly telling.

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I wondered if I could write the story of my life in six words or less.

I will post what I finally decided upon in a few days. In the mean time, post your own six word (or less) biographies. I dare you.

Some biographies I entertained about myself:

- Loves writing; applications to law school.
- Can't say no. Must do more.
- Full resume, empty head. Fools everybody.
- Life displayed. I'm in the dark.
- Gives great advice - could use some.
- Life's a book. Used Cliff's Notes.

Your turn...

Standard Emphatics - February 15, 2008

Friday was abnormally exciting merely because everybody was excited for an extra day off of school the coming Monday. I was excited because I was already dreaming of the extra sleep I was going to undertake.

Class lasted one hour, and I made a hasty escape to relax at home and get the weekend started. My total flat-line of activity would have to wait until after I finished a telephone interview with the organization whose recruiter I spoke with at the Career Fair in Manhattan (the recruiter who attended my university's cross-town rival).

The organization actively sought me out for an interview, so I entered the conversation with a very relaxed and confident demeanor. Below are some of the questions, and an occasional answer that was exchanged during the interview.

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What do you know about us?
What would you tell your friends about us?
Why do you want to go into public interest law?
Have you ever worked with children, and if so, what age groups?
- How long do you want to be on the phone? (I jokingly gave this as my answer, whereupon I outline my extensive history.)
Have you ever had problems with anybody racially or ethnically different than you?

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After the slow-ball questions were answered with powerful hits, the interviewer prefaced the next question in the same fashion the Public Defender interviewer had. "The next question is a hypothetical," she said. "There is no wrong answer. We simply want to see how you answer it."

Of course, there is a correct answer. However, they do not want us to get over anxious and worry too much. Really, they are just looking for how we intuitively answer the question. See how you do before reading my response.

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You have been appointed by the court as the representative of a new-born baby. The Baby’s Mother has nine other children, all in varying placements. The Mother is a habitual drug-user and has been charged with and found guilty for abuse and neglect. At the time of your hearing, the mother has stayed clean – passing multiple drug tests – and has gotten her life on track. As the representative for the Baby, do you (a) advocate for immediate adoptive placement of the Baby, or (b) seek a family reunification through a six-month process.

Here was my answer, in all its glory –
- Reunification is always the best choice, if it is a viable choice. Placing a child in a family atmosphere is always the goal; placement in a natural family atmosphere is even better. In this scenario, the Mother has stayed clean for a period, and is making a concerted effort to turn her life around. With the reunification, drug tests and random visits from Child Protective Services will occur, as well as ensuring that the Mother is meeting court-mandated bench-marks in care. If the mother cannot show that she can properly care for and provide a secure environment for the raising of the Baby, at any time during, and at the end of the six-month process, then I will seek immediate adoptive placement for the Baby.

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I must say, however, that I was very lucky. I tried finding information on my interviewer prior to the call, and the only item available was a case summary where she had represented four children. During the case, my interviewer actively sought reunification. Being an internet stalker paid off.

After the hypothetical, besides the standard, "do you have any questions for us," one question followed.

I was asked if I had any goals for this summer.

"Absolutely," is stated emphatically. "My goal is to have the best, most full experience that I can possibly have. I want to walk into my placement as a first year law student, and come out a very changed or polished lawyer-in-training. Basically, I want to squeeze every ounce of education, training and experience that I possibly can."

The rest of my day was very relaxing and somewhat uneventful. This was my kind of day.

No News - February 14, 2008

Three classes, five hours, one giant pain in the behind. The two hours of contracts is a complete waste of life. To make things worse, ten minutes after I wished a fare-the-well to the two hours of mindless contract jabber, I had to be in my seat ready to "learn".

Thursdays, as has been well established, smash the happiness from me. “Stupid” Class runs for a very long two hour period. I cannot escape the doom that is the class. It makes me question all things fair and just in the world.

Good News: I was granted an interview by the organization whose recruiter I met at the career fair (who attended my rival university). Apparently I made a good impression. The interview is tomorrow afternoon.

Bad News: Not only does this make things more complex for the decision-making area of my already over-taxed brain, but all I have been thinking about lately are the other organization with whom I have interviewed. I do not think I can handle more anxiety.

Good News: I am really tired and will fall right to sleep from the energy-burning classes today.

Bad News: I have a Dentist's Appointment at 8:30AM tomorrow.

Good News: I am mentally ready to send the Dean the letter that will most definitely make waves at the Law School. The letter will be in the mail tomorrow.

Bad News: I am mentally ready to send the Dean the letter that will most definitely make waves at the Law School. The letter will be in the mail tomorrow.

Wednesday Revisited - February 13, 2008

Wednesday is a long day with classes that bring me down, as has become well-known at this point.

The same old wake up and get going practice never changes. Every morning my shower starts warm and then turns icy. Our water heater is a piece of junk, but definitely does the job of waking me up. I have about two minutes of heat before doom flows through the pipes and onto my body. I have perfected the art of fast showers.

Of the most entertaining happenings occurred in the coveted Idiot Class. I was minding my own business, reading for another class. The professor felt the need to ruin my day. She called on me, knowing I was not paying attention. I asked her to repeat the question. She glared into my soul with the sharpened dagger eyes, which relayed the "death to you" thoughts that must have been circulating about her head. I glanced down at the case, answered her question to perfection, and went back to not listening to her ruin my life.

It was glorious.

The second low-light of the day was property. I do not think I understood half the things the professor was saying. The vocabulary and the combination of the vocabulary is intense.

Property law takes something as simple as my giving you a piece of property on a set of conditions, and turns it into: a Life Estate with a contingent remainder in fee simple subject to divestment in C and D, subject to executory interest in B. Lost? So was I.

As I before stated, property law takes ordinary terms and gives them meanings that have nothing to do with their common use definitions. They then slam a bunch of them together and look in awe at the masterpiece of confusion that is left in its wake.

And I sleep.

Being Engaging - February 12, 2008

For the first time that I can remember, there is not much to report. I had gotten used to having long days that were packed with all kinds of interesting and quirky situations. Today was a great change from the quick pace that has dominated my life lately.

I woke up this morning relatively late, which is not an entirely bad occurrence. I have one class in the early afternoon, so shut-eye is allowed late into the morning. After showering and doing my get-ready dance, I sat down to eat my sandwich and peruse the internet. My favorite social networking site always keeps me up-to-date on my friends, so I usually start there and work my way to websites that offer more intelligent information. This morning my roommate left me a message wondering if I am still alive, because I have been sleeping more than I have been awake. She reminded me of our weekly dinner-date, which is always nice, because I get to actually enjoy another person's company for a guaranteed one night per week.

I have also been waiting with baited breath to hear back from the District Attorney out here. I do not even like this state, but for some reason, I really want this position with them. I think it is great that they called my references, but the only call I care about is the one they will make to me.

Civil Procedure whizzed by, and before I knew what had happened, the class was dismissed. I made my way to the library to do the volumes of work I have been assigned. No more than ten minutes into my studies, I was alerted to the fact that it was snowing outside. It was not like the snow of yester-month. It was actually piling up outside.

With this newly acquired information, I decided it best that I get home before driving became to precarious. I got into my vehicle, turned the ignition and let the engine warm up. I made it home safely, but the drive was not without a few mishaps. My brakes occasionally played games with me. A few times, the brakes did not actually brake my car. It just kept on going. It was a good thing I was driving a manual, and even luckier that nobody was around when it decided to act up. It turns out that New Yorkers not only fail at driving in normal weather conditions, but they are pretty horrible in all conditions. I counted eight accidents on my way home. Most of them were the trees' faults. Those things come out of nowhere.

The snow is beautiful, but probably will not last because of the forecasted rain.

My life is rain on a snowy day.

Day in review:
Short day. One class. Late wakeup. Class starts, ends. Library study. Lots of snow. Crazy drive home. Failed snowman. Roommate date. Roommate screams. Roommate's sister engaged. I write.

All The Luck - February 11, 2008

This weekend I slept.

I broke all kinds of personal records over the last two days: hours awake; hours asleep; percentage of time spent drinking wine with a professor. Yeah, I broke some records, alright.

Friday night I went to sleep at 11:45PM. I woke up Saturday at 5:15PM. I did not have much time to enjoy my incredible 17.5 hours of slumber, as I was slated to be at a dinner with my professor at 6:00PM. I did not think to set my alarm to wake up, because I did not believe there to be a need to assure I would be awake. Apparently, there was a good reason; a reason that made me run through my house in an effort to get ready to go in the blink of an eye. I was running late.

I have had many meals and meetings with professors, but this was very different than that with which I had become accustomed.

Besides the fact that everything was surreal (it felt like one of those times where I got home from school and fell asleep, and woke up a few hours later: when I awoke those times, I thought I slept through the very next day; this time I actually did sleep through the very next day) the conversation was much more intense and amusing. Not only did the professor persuade all six of us in attendance that the world was flat, and not globular, but, for the first time, I accidentally made reference to a sexual act by its name. The slang for oral copulation never sounded worse, as if that is possible. To compound the situation, one of my classmates became very inebriated from the fantastic wine we were served, and made it a point to bring the professors attention to the sexual reference by saying "I can't believe I just heard H say _______!"

Thank you Ms. S, I shall not soon forget your deed! It was all fine, though.

Anyhow, I thought that there would be no way I would fall asleep when I got home from the dinner. I was wrong.

I got home, got in bed, and slept another 14-plus hours. When I looked at this last week before it happened, I had no idea that it would leave me this drained. And yet, all I can think about is more sleep.

This morning swiftly approached my sleep quenched soul. The loud beep of my alarm was a cruel sound that left me no choice but to get on my way to school.

One class was all that today brought.

I did not check the weather before I left my house this morning. I did not think it was going to be too cold outside. As with most things, I was wrong. The wind brought the temperature to an astonishing nine degrees. I thought my face was going to fall off; never mind my sandal-clad feet.

Property was as dissatisfying as I have come to expect it to be. Estates, wills, trusts, and plain property-based law can be the goldmine for another to trudge. I'll stick with something else.

After the class ceased, I rushed to my car and zoomed back to the town in which I reside. I had a dentist appointment to take care of my teeth. I had to threaten them over the phone to give me an appointment today. They put off finishing my other tooth problem for so long that the tooth started to have new problems. Luckily, my threat and thank tactics paid off with a fantastically quick appointment. I wanted to schedule my next few visits, and as it turns out, they had an opening later today for a check-up and normal cleaning.

I had a three-hour window to spend my time pondering life, so I decided to tackle another issue I had been having: my phone bill. Basically, I got a nicer phone, and the idiots at customer service added a new line of service without my knowing. When I received my next bill, I noticed the new line and the exorbitant charges, and called them up. They removed the charges, but not the line of service. I had the same problem the next month, and they did the same stupid thing the next month. Finally, after this occurred three times, I wanted to make sure everything was removed. When I talked to them, they said they could remove it, but that I would have to pay a termination fee. I told them that I would be agreeable to a termination fee I had agreed to the contract in the first place.

They then told me that by using my phone, I agreed to their terms of service and their contract. I replied that not only am I on a month-to-month plan, but I have not used even one minute on the line I want off my plan, that I never asked for in the first place. Girl on the line told me (when she found out I was a Law Student) that I should know that when I use a service I agree to the provider's terms and contract. I basically gave her the "what-for" textbook response and told her to do two things. (1) She was to go find anything that shows I agreed to a new contract; and (2) Transfer me to her supervisor. After a 20 minute wait, the supervisor told me that I would have to either live with the over 150 dollars of overcharged bill, or pay them back for the phone discount. I told her that I am the one who has an even better set of options to give her. Either she can be reasonable and credit me back the over-charges on my account, or I can file a small claims action for the fraudulent charges and my time. I explained to her that her corporate attorneys probably charge somewhere over 300 dollars per hour, and that my even filing a complaint in court would cost her company more than that which I am seeking to reply. I even added the fact that my evidence was going to include the phone records that her own company supplied me. Oh, the irony. She said "see you in court." Then, she hung up.

I love customer service.

After having a wonderful time pointing out inadequacies in their logical thinking and deductive reasoning skills, I went back to the dentist.

After the cleaning I went back to school for a meeting, after which I came back home to tackle stupid assignment for dumb class.

My life is hectic. However, it does provide me a lot of entertainment.

What more could I ask for?

In other news, the organization at whose interview I thought I performed miserably called two of my three references. I have not before had a possible employer call the references I supplied. I hope this is a good thing. It definitely cannot be bad. Stay tuned for periodic updates.

"Some guys have all the luck;
Some guys have all the pain;
Some guys get all the breaks;
Some guys do nothing but complain."
- Rod Stewart

Up In The Air - February 8, 2008

I had no idea why I was going back to the career fair. I thought everything was planned out for this summer. At worst, I am going to end up at a highly respected District Attorney's office in California. Not a bad choice. I was not interviewing today; I was merely planning on discussing opportunities with employers at their table during the sessions the fair aptly named "Table Talks".

These impromptu interactions are pseudo-interviews disguised as a laid-back discussion. My goal was to make the best possible impression in the shortest time possible.

Let's back up a moment, though.

I woke up at the awful hour of "way-too-darn-early" and had the roommate drive me to the train station. Do not feel bad for her, not only is she already up that early, but she owes me. Big time.

The plan was to meet Michelle and Megan before the fair to chat-it-up a little. I instantly became the magnet for the Law School, and began attracting all kinds of people who are in my classes. After a nice group chat, we went to go discuss potential opportunities with those organizations we had previously circled in our fair packets. The group split-up to find the room that housed the organization's table we most highly targeted.

One of the most popular tables was Legal Aid - a highly sought after non-profit organization that is especially sought after by those wanting to enter into public interest law. I made a point of going to their table first because I had seen long lines of law students waiting to own the attention of the recruiter for a very brief stint the day before. I hastily strutted towards the table with the Legal Aid label atop its stand. I was the very first person to greet the recruiter - in fact, there were two recruiters and one attorney who sat at the table. The three-on-one atmosphere was overwhelming, but very manageable. After I exchanged pleasantries, dodged questions and posed a few of my own, I went back towards the open area of the room where I was greeted by Michelle.

She had spoken with another employer while I was with Legal Aid. We then discussed what we were going to do next. Michelle was debating whether she was going to talk to another organization; I helped her along and persuaded her to action. I had to barter my accompaniment to get her to approach the representatives. We both walked to the table and proceeded to double-team the duo of recruiters at the organization's table. It must have looked like a well rehearsed Ballet. I picked up where she left off; she finished my sentences when I was at a loss for words. Quite frankly, it was a thing of beauty. A performance that was too good to be planned.

Michelle and Megan left before lunch. I met Christina and we went to a fantastic lunch a few blocks from the Law School. We had the kind of deep conversation that I have not been able to undertake in some time now. It was a fantastic two hours of discussion that perfectly complimented the sushi we were consuming. Yeah, it was that good.

After lunch - which I had not planned on having - Christina and I went back for the next session of "Table Talks". Again, this was not planned, as I was quite content on my worse-case-scenario for this summer. There was one organization that I did want to talk to, more out of curiosity than anything else.

I sat down and proceeded to trade barbs with the recruiter who happens to have graduated from my cross-town rival university. I was able to discuss such subjects that are interview questions that an interviewee is, as a general rule, forbidden to breech. These topics include salary and benefits. She told me that she wanted to interview me by phone when she arrived back in California, and asked for my resume. These are always great signs.

Just when I had everything perfectly planned, these organizations had to show their opportunities. Options mess everything up, but are a great addition to my life. What a horribly great conundrum.

This summer is now up in the air, right where it started.

The "Wow" Factor - February 7, 2008

I interviewed this morning with the Los Angeles County Public Defender where passion became the hot topic. Well, at least for me.

I did not want to interview for the position. I was going to miss a total of four hours of class, I had to take the train into the city, take the subway to Manhattan, and navigate the city campus of NYU to meet with the interviewers. I was not even considering working for them over the summer. I just wanted some interview practice time.

I knew I wanted to go home this summer, but I had no idea that the interviewers would be the ones having the impact on me. This was role-reversal at its best.

As with my last interview in Manhattan, I had to get up far too early to be happy about life. The train schedule runs at weird times. I arrived in Manhattan, hopped (well, walked) of the subway, paying special attention to the gap, and was one block from NYU. The University is not in any central area. It is spread throughout many different blocks, in varying buildings. Basically, the university buys buildings as they become available in the area. Everything is scattered about without any master plan. Knowing this, I arrived about one hour before my interview was scheduled to take place.

I could not find the Law School Building for check-in. I literally walked all the way around it.

After I checked in, I sat down to pass the time. I was not experiencing any anxiety whatsoever. I did not really care about this interview. I was just going because it was going to give me interview experience. With this in mind, I was as relaxed as was humanly possible.

I was greeted with the kind of warmth and cheer that was not of the New York breed. It was a relaxed, "it is actually nice to see you" type of welcome. I excitedly shook her hand, and down the hall we went. Waiting in the room was a man (whose name I will not even try to recreate) and two open chairs. I asked the Interviewers, both high ranking Public Defenders, where they would like me to sit. They asked me for my resume. I produced a beautifully prepared packet, secured by a very nice clasp-folder. Then they asked for another resume. Including the electronically submitted resume, they now had three copies total. They asked for a minute to look the resume over. I nodded in acceptance of this proposition - it is not like I really had a choice. I leaned over to my belongings, and pulled out my leather portfolio - to make it seem like I was sincerely interested in what we were discussing. The male interviewer turned to me and said, "Relax! Put that away. It is not necessary."

Heck yeah! Relaxed. Kick back. This is good stuff.

I told them that I missed this California attitude. Questioned as to where I grew up, I gave them the stock California response. When asked if I wanted to be in California over the summer, I responded that I can only handle so much New York. They nodded in agreement.

As they read, they picked out a few highlights. They wanted to know about how I got my internship with the Publisher of a significant newspaper. I explained my straight forward "I want to be your intern" approach.

The next statement was something close to, you get pretty involved in everything. "You have quite the initiative. A go-getter to say the least." I told them my parents continually remind me of this non-flaw flaw. "I do just about everything," I replied. "Which leaves me time for nothing. However, I manage my time to the smallest detail which allows me to do all that I want, when I want, with the highest possible quality. Passion."

I told them that when I undertake something, it gets my full attention. They wanted to know about wrestling, and I explained that every wrestler comes with an interesting story. I explained that I confronted the soccer coach, asked him if I would be awarded playing time. He asked me if I really wanted to know the answer. I responded that I would not have asked if I did not want to know. He told me most likely, very little playing time would be awarded. With that, I literally walked off the soccer field and into the wrestling room. I was horrible my first year, but after that, the rest was history. I told them that wrestling became a pretty significant part of my life, and was definitely a love - I miss it.

I continued to explain that my passion bleeds through in everything I do. I highlighted my two favorite passions: politics and journalism.

They caught right on to this potential problem, and dug right in. "Being a criminal defense attorney is not a popular choice if you want to go into politics. How do you reconcile this?"

I responded by explaining that the answer to this question is the same as defending a criminal I know is guilty: criminal defense should be held in high regard by the public. It is the fabric of our society, insomuch as it protects and defends the rights of individuals. Without a competent defense, our political system means nothing.

I proceeded to dispel the popular negative sentiment by using a California referendum as an example where voters overwhelmingly passed that changed the medical malpractice maximum award for a Plaintiff by making it significantly less. The people were worried that doctors were being unfairly sued for far too much. As it turns out, the measure ended up working against those who were adamantly in favor of it. The lesson is, people dislike defense attorneys until they need one, and chances are, either you or somebody you know will someday need one.

They replied, "You have no idea! We get calls in the middle of the night."

The male interviewer said that he gets calls all the time from police officers who he cross-examined in trials; people who otherwise loathe him.

In the end, everybody calls.

They then saw that I was already a clerk for a District Attorney's office. I chuckled. They looked at me funny for laughing. I explained to them that I did far too many things that I had no business doing. I then told them one of my favorite "Adventures in Law" stories.

The highly shortened version: I wrote many motions and briefs when I was a clerk. The one I wrote most often was a response to motions to suppress evidence. I had always submitted these motions to the Assistant District Attorney for review before they were filed. At one point, I wrote the opposition and gave it to her, business as usual. The next day she marched into the Bullpen - as it is commonly referred to by the practicing attorneys, the Bullpen is the room that is home to all the law clerks - and in front of everybody said, while pointing to a big red circle on the motion I gave to her, "How could you make a mistake like this? Any first-year law student knows how to do this correctly!"

I responded as calmly as one can when being dressed-down by an authority figure. "I am only a sophomore in college."

She turned bright red, and apologized. She then proceeded to teach me how to fix the problem. The other law clerks got quite the show.

I looked at the Public Defenders and said, "So, when I say I did many things I had no business doing, I really did things I had no business doing. That year I fell in love with criminal law."

Then the interview really started to get under way. They told me that they wanted to turn the interview around. The question they next posed was: "Why would you make a great prosecutor." Like just about every question asked, they are looking for something more than what is apparent on the surface.

I responded that I would be a great prosecutor because I infuse my passion into everything that I do. I added that any field of criminal law is something that would be exciting. I also discussed my love of debate, quick thinking, rhetorical speaking, and my ability to convey my thoughts, feelings, passion and reasoning through written and spoken word.

This was my way of answering why I would be a great defense attorney. Go me.

Then they asked me why I would make a poor prosecutor. To this I replied that I think that the prosecution has everything easier than defense and that regardless of the rule of law (innocent until proven guilty) that the defense always has a tougher time in court. Furthermore, the jury always looks at the defendant as guilty. They legitimize their projection of guilt from the start by reasoning the Defendant would not have been arrested if he/she did not do something wrong. Police do not just arrest anybody off the street. Because the prosecution has an easier time, I think that I would get bored with practice after a long time, and that I thrive on challenges. If I am not continually being challenged, I lose interest in that which I am expected to do.

I followed up that answer with the fact that I admire the Public Defender because they are very highly worked, underpaid and under-appreciated.

Near the end of the interview, things got serious. The male interviewer turned to me and said, "I am going to give you a case hypo, and we want to see how you answer the questions."

As he outlined the following to me, my mind was off to the races with where the question was going to come into play. Could it be about: malpractice, his verbalizing his guilt to me, witness tampering, ethics, etc.? Little did I know that the issue was all about a person's rights. Even though the hypo was based in criminal law, civil procedure was the knowledge that I tapped into.

The hypo took about five to ten minutes to completely verbally outline, and my answers were expected on the spot. It was a true test of knowledge, as there was no time to think. They pressured me to give answers within seconds of the question: they wanted to see what my instincts and thought processes would reveal.

Not difficult, right?

__________

The story is best told in person, but to summarize it as best as I can, the hypo dealt with me as a brand new Public Defender, assigned to my first case. My Client is a homosexual-hating, illegal immigrant loathing Born-Again Christian. He is charged with assault with a deadly weapon, the weapon being a beer bottle. Your Client says the police report and the charges are completely true, and that he did as charged. He will not, however, make a deal. He says that he is only with you, a half-rate attorney, because he does not have money. But, he makes it clear that there will be no plea or deal made. He is the only caregiver for his two daughters, and he is a trucker. Any record of a conviction causes his trucking license to be automatically revoked. As a life-long trucker, he will lose his income if he loses his license, and he will not be able to support his two girls. It is very clear that no deal will be made. During the night in question, your Client went to the bar to get his usual after-work beer. His days are spent sitting in traffic, so he unwinds by getting a beer and watching ESPN on the bar's television. He does this with normalcy. The entire bar was open, and he was sitting alone minding his own business when a Latino man came and sat down next to him. Your Client became agitated that the Latino man was invading his personal space, and because of his Latino looks, immediately thought he was an illegal immigrant, which upset him even more. My Client thinks that Latinos are the dirt of the world, and that they are ruining the economy, spending tax dollars and other such negative descriptions. Not long after, the Latino man started to "hit" on your Client. My Client started getting really upset and told the man to stop numerous times. The man took each denial and request to stop as a challenge, and tried to "hit" on him even more. My Client could not stand it anymore and hit him over the head with his beer bottle. The bar tender saw everything.

During the jury selection phase, when 11 of the 12 jurors have been selected, the Judge calls for a recess for lunch. He gives the specific instructions that no Juror is to talk to any of the Parties or the Parties' Attorneys, and same the other way around. Since it is my first trial (where I have been inside, cooped-up all morning), I decide to go to Quizno's to relax for a little and get out. When I park in the parking lot, I notice a woman - I only notice her because she is in front of me. She is wearing a shirt that reads "Homosexual = Sin = Aids" and in big letters underneath are the words "Burn In Hell". I also notice that her car has a bumper sticker that says "Illegals Deserve Death".

When I get back to court, the Judge calls the potential Juror Twelve to be questioned. I realize that this is the same woman I saw in the parking lot, but she is wearing a jacket, and her shirt is now covered. The Prosecution and Judge ask questions of the Juror, and you then follow up with my questions. The Prosecution has no problems with the Juror and does not use a peremptory challenge. All that is left is my approval, and she will officially be Juror Twelve.

I was now faced with three options:
1) I can say nothing and dismiss her with a Peremptory Challenge;
2) I can ask for a sidebar with the Judge and the Prosecutor and explain that I saw her, and what she is wearing - tell them all I know; or
3) Say nothing and allow her to be Juror Twelve.

-- What would you answer, and why?--

I told the two highly ranked Public Defenders that I would choose option (3).
__________

The male PD said, "Hmmm. OK. You say nothing and proceed through the trial. You get to the end, and the Jury is sent to deliberate. You become excited because I completed a trial through Jury deliberations, a milestone that 99% of attorneys never reach. Day one goes by without a verdict. You are getting really happy. Day two passes without a verdict. You are living on cloud nine - this is good news, a sign that the Jury is most likely hung or going in your favor. Day three passes as well. On day four, the Foreperson sends the Judge a letter saying 'Juror Twelve will not listen to anybody. She is set in her ways, and is a bigot. She is the only one will not agree on a verdict.' The note also says that Juror Twelve knew you saw her, and that you had knowledge of her beliefs.

The Judge calls for a sidebar. You and the Prosecutor approach the Judge. The Judge then asks you, "Did you know see Juror Twelve?"

-- What would you answer if you made the same decision as I? --

I then evoked my civil procedure knowledge. I told the Interviewers that I would answer, "Absolutely. I saw her in a parking lot."

He then asked, "Did you know about her beliefs?"

I replied that I had seen her wearing a shirt with statements on it, and that her car had a bumper sticker.

The male interviewer then turned to me and said, "Why did you not tell the court about this knowledge."
__________

My answer was the following:

First, my duty as an Attorney is to zealously advocate for my client. As such, it served my client no good by saying something.

Second, I did not violate the orders of the Judge. I did not speak to the potential Juror, I only saw her. Furthermore, it is unreasonable to expect me to avoid all contact with any potential Juror. If the order required no contact, I would have to walk around in a blacked-out bubble. I followed the order as stated by the Judge.

Third, if my client were "filthy-rich," not only would he have a high-powered Attorney on his behalf, but most likely Jury Consultants and Private Investigators that would have found out this information. Consultants and Private Investigators are legal, and would have provided the same outcome as my Quizno's sighting.

Finally most importantly, my client has the right to a jury of his peers (7th Amendment). My job is to protect my client's rights. Juror Twelve's beliefs happened to have perfectly paralleled those of my Client. Juror Twelve not only has as much right to be on the Jury as the rest of the Jurors, but arguably more so, because she is of the same background as my Client.

-- How did you answer? Close? Here is what one of my Professors said about my answer:
"Great story--great hypo. And you gave absolutely an A+ answer. You should apply for the criminal clinic next year." --

__________

I think my answer pretty much blew them away - heck, it even blew me away. It was surreal, like I was possessed. They were content, to say the least - the Interviewers were speechless. All that they could say was, "Okay! Do you have any questions for us?"

I proceeded to ask what clerks would be able to do in the office. "I know the website states that clerks research, interview witnesses, subpoena evidence and do other such assignments," I said. "But what do law clerks really do?"

The hands on nature of their answer, and the passion for allowing clerks to experience everything from arraignment to trial very much impressed me. The Public Defender's office went from the very bottom of my list - between clerking for an Eskimo in a small village outside Juneau, Alaska and just taking the summer off - to the very top.

I arrived at school with enough time to make it to my Civil Procedure. Again, the class zoomed by, and finally I went home. I had not eaten all day and my stomach was going crazy. I ate, and checked my email.

One of my past employers sent me a message asking me to call him. I use this past employer as a reference and letter of recommendation writer. I called him, and we chatted for a bit, catching up on each other's successes and news of the day.

He then made my day even better. He had been called by the Manhattan District Attorney's office. When I interviewed with the New York District Attorney (aka Manhattan District Attorney), I walked out, head hanging down and very much beaten to a pulp. It was pretty much the worst interview ever. I had very little in common with the ADA with whom I interviewed. I did not really understand the interview tactic until I discussed the substance of the interview with a friend. He pointed out that interviews of this caliber are not poised at finding out who you are - resumes and cover letters do that for you - interviews for positions like this are aimed at seeing how you hold up under pressure. Being the high pressure person I am, I guess I did relatively well. I am still not holding my breath. It is definitely a long-shot.

And that was my day. Pretty good, eh? I'd say so. I was pretty wowed by it. More days like this are just what I need. I go back to NYU in Manhattan tomorrow to drop by tables and schmooze potential employers. What's the worst that could happen?

I could be wowed.

Singing to the Preacher Teacher - February 6, 2008

My powers of prophecy are getting stronger with each passing day. It is a shame that I can only foresee my own tumultuous downfall, for my premonitions work only when I sense my doom.

I knew today was going to be interesting. It was the only day which I was (and will be) able to wear normal people clothes. Wearing my sandals has begun to be a security blanket of sorts. It reminds me where I came from and most definitely where I wish to end up.

After staying up late watching Wolf Blitzer pontificate with pundits of all sorts, I was poised to have a rough start. Going to bed late and waking up early does not make for an easy life.

The "how close can I cut it" game (where I see how late I can wake up and still make it to class on time) is beginning to take its toll on me. Contracts is rough as it is; my continuous need to yawn and stretch helps nobody.

I sit in the back of my Contracts class. It is not so much a choice as it was forced upon me. It is a class where participation can lift your grade quite significantly. The method to gaining the most points is to not necessarily participate the most, but ensure the Professor recognizes your name when allotting final grades. When the teacher is senile, this is all the more difficult.

Luckily, I have a last name on which Professors tend to fixate. I do not know why, but just like Apple Jacks, they just do. I just try to make it easier for them to remember my name.

I am not a contracts "wiz", nor do I pretend to be. Civil procedure, however, is where I shine. So, when the Professor asked a question about the options an executor has in ensuring the correct dispersal of items on a will that has inconsistencies or trouble with wording, everybody just sat quietly - the door to my world suddenly opened.

He could not believe there were no hands being raised. He again repeated his question, following it up with, "you must have been taught this in civil procedure, people."

The switch flipped so quickly in my head that the light bulb most likely shattered. Up went my hand; to his memory went my name. The glory of my answering the question was the fact that I was not even paying as close attention as I should. Let's just say I was multi-tasking (I needed to prepare for Property later in the day - a great decision by me).

I was correct in my answer, and the glory was mine.

There was a blink in time where I nearly died from overwhelming annoyance. Having previously discussed "Annoying Guy" and "Arch-Nemesis Girl," I was asking for the perfect storm of annoyance to occur. It was just a matter of time before they combined their efforts. "Girl" gave her usual confusing answer that was originally simple (she loves to throw in ever big word she can find in addition to reading large sections of text straight from the book). After the Professor took a minute to try to understand the answer, up to the sky went the hand that is connected to "Annoying Guy's" brain. When his hand goes up, the brain shuts off. He always confuses the life out of me and loves to give his personal feelings about every issue - most of the time connecting his thoughts to a personal story about somebody he knows and should not have shared.

Annoying Guy added his powers of confusion to Annoying Girl's, and when their powers combined I became Captain Annoyed-Face. I wish Ursula from The Little Mermaid would take their voices in exchange for making them no longer annoying. However, I don't even think a Disney villain can help. Woe is me.

After Contracts, Michelle and I went to the library for a very brief period to do some work. When the 12:00 hour came, she and I gathered our belongings and made our way to a meeting. I am usually the only person who identifies with the male gender. This makes the meetings all-the-more fun for me as most of the women are very pretty and incredibly smart - just the way I like it. It is even better that everybody involved is very into public service and altruism. Very sexy.

Pizza was served, and boy did we need it - Michelle has a pizza addiction, so she had been awaiting this meeting since it was scheduled in early January (yeah, she is addicted a little too much - I told her that she has a problem).

After the meeting, off I went to the stupid class where I managed to remain inconspicuous. The Professor did not call on me, which was a safe move for her as I become a volatile creature upon entering the room. Nobody knows what I may do if forced to participate.

Upon the conclusion of class, I jumped for joy, clicked my heals and made my way back to the library. They are pondering dedicating the cubicle I use to me. A bronze placard on which my name will be inscribed is currently being prepared for the naming ceremony. Bars are not the only places that have "regulars".

Nearly two hours later, off Michelle and I went to Property. The reading is as confusing as possible under the circumstances. The material is dry and everything we read is a new definition. This week alone, there have been nearly 50-such definitions, and they are not easy to memorize. The law takes normally used words and gives them a new legal definition that is nowhere near the same as its common meaning. Take a fee simple, for example. What in the world does that mean in common usage? Nobody knows.

We walked into the classroom where I proceeded to flirt with the good looking, and highly desirable girl behind me (the same one who always initiates conversations where I am enabled the opportunity to shamelessly promote myself). Mere minutes before class began, I turned to Michelle and told her that I knew I was going to get called on today.

The Professor always starts class by "randomly" selecting three students who will be on call for the entire two-hour class. After she announces those names, it is off to the races. It is like the lottery short story where names are drawn by the town and a person is stoned each year. They do it because it is tradition. Nobody cares if somebody else is getting stoned, but it is not so good if the stones are being hurled in your direction.

Premonition: Confirmed.

Mr. H, the Minister of Property preached from her pulpit. "Son of a Baptist," I audibly exclaimed. I knew it.

The girl sitting to my left (Michelle sits to my right), turned to me and said good luck. I scoffed at her a big "Thanks. I hate you." She giggled at my demise. I shook my head in disgust.

I managed to make it through the first hour of class without being ceremoniously tied to a lead weight and thrown into the water like a witch in Salem. The question was: would he float during the second hour of class?

While the two young ladies whose names were called along with mine were enabled the opportunity to share the unceasing barrage of questions, the second hour was declared my own. Though my classmates sometimes raise their hand and volunteer the answers, I was without a choice in the matter.

Round one through six was scored in my favor. Seven was not to be had in my scoring column. The question was meant to trick me. The answer was the subject of discussion nearly two weeks prior, and I had no chance going into it.

Eight, nine and ten found themselves in my win column. But, then came eleven. It turns out that any number that rhymes with your name is a number that hates you with a passion.

Question eleven was my Vietnam: I had no business trying to answer it because there was no way I was going to get it correct. The answer was a new type of property that we had neither read nor discussed. When I assuredly got it wrong, I looked perplexed, and my classmates must have looked the same. The Professor is fantastic at perceiving our questions and feelings. The smallest eyebrow raise, slanted mouth or miniscule body movement is taken in by her seemingly all-knowing eyes. What a gift.

The type of property was explained, and we moved on. Questions twelve and thirteen were denoted with a big "W" in my on-screen scoring tracker.

Near the end of class an instant message popped up on my computer screen. "Great job, man," the box displayed. "Great job," I questioned back.

"Yeah! You handled it!"

I proceeded to be perplexed by what was being displayed. I did not think I did that well.

Not long after, my screen blinked again - a message from Michelle - and again, and again. As it became clear to me, my hesitation to be content with my performance was a feeling that only I possessed. From the last five minutes of class and throughout the rest of the night, I received words of congratulations from most of my classmates who had my screen name.

I dedicate this big win to the Dean.

At one point in class, the Professor wanted everybody to answer a question as to the type of property conveyed. When three people of the over 100 answered alone, she stopped. Then she turned slightly to the left and lifted up her head in unison with her arms.

"Come on," she gleefully announced. "I'm workin' on a choir."

Sheer brilliance. I held back from saying, "Amen, preacher teacher." Remaining silent is a decision I regret. It was far-too fitting for this class. I wanted to continue to remain under the radar for as long as possible - as is now known, it was a futile attempt.

I got home, prepared my resume, cover letter and writing sample for my interview tomorrow. I do not want the position as much as I want the legal interviewing experience. Another summer position offer would be nice, however. It would make my decision fantastically hard. As my Mom always said, "To have to decide between two great choices is not the worst thing that should happen." I should be so lucky.

Plus, the interview is giving me a great opportunity to miss my two-hour Contracts class and my two-hours of stupid class. How bad could this interview be?

Sometimes being in the choir is a great option. I will leave the solo performances for the annoying students. Plus, what preacher likes to give the spotlight to somebody else?

Instincts Are Everything - January 5, 2008

Super Tuesday was not so super.

I thought Monday was harsh; Tuesday crept up out of nowhere. You always have to watch the silent ones.

The day was more awkward and surreal than it was hectic and eventful. I started later than I had planned. Lately, I have been waking up nearly one hour after my alarm sounds-off the first time.

I needed to turn in my research assignment for Appellate Advocacy. The document had to be time-stamped by my Professor's secretary before 12:00PM. The plan was to go to school and turn the assignment in then saunter over to the Department of Labor for my hearing - the hearings take place about two minutes from campus. I was running very far behind. I was so far behind that I had to use my backup plan (read: roommate). I quickly entered my car and drove like a New Yorker towards my destination. I had places to be and middle fingers to show people. New York is an ugly place; I am just trying to fit in.

I swung by my partner's dorm, and off we went to the hearing. He was to perform the direct examination of our client. Because of the special nature of the case, the burden shifted to our client, so she was to testify first. This means that my partner was going to go first as between the two of us.

We told our client to clean up her image for the hearing. We asked her to remove her lip-ring and cut down the earrings to one in each ear. I wanted her to project an innocence that her jet-black half-spiked hair was not accomplishing.

When we arrived, she followed our directions to the detail, and no more. I shook my head as we walked in.

To get to the meat of the story, the employer did not show up, the Judge continued to refer to us as law students on the record, and my partner fizzled. He made very large leaps in questioning, often going from the beginning straight to the conclusion. There was no foundation or story element in his questioning. It was hard to watch - I was going crazy.

During questioning, my client continually played with the pen I had given her. She found a way to make the pen click incessantly in every way possible. I wrote a note to my partner who was seated to her left. The note read: "Take her pen away!" And he did so.

I think the Judge caught on to who was really wearing the pants in the partnership. Every time there was a general question about law or procedure, the Judge would direct it to me. Once I started to read his thoughts and juxtaposed that against our case, I got the picture. It was like discovering the Rosetta Stone.

I really wanted to close at least one of my three cases this week, however nothing I want ever happens. The case today was postponed. Two cases prepped and ready this week, two cases still open. Oh man.

After the case I drove to school. I had asked my roommate to turn in my paper. I trust the gal, but one can never be too sure. I went to go make sure she turned the assignment in, as it was not quite noon. I was right, it was not turned in. Instincts are everything.

I called her, and it turns out she was just walking into the Law School. I met her halfway, complained to her about my frustration with my partner, confirmed our meeting with my third client, and took the paper from her. I turned the assignment in and walked to Civil Procedure.

Civil Procedure is a blip on the screen of my day display. It came and went, and I do not remember much about it, other than the fact that it happened.

Then the fun began.

I met Client Three in the lobby of the Law School and was joined by Lindsay not too much later. Before I go forward, let's go back.

Lindsay is a fantastic partner. The girl can hold her own, and actually understands the process. It is like projecting another one of me into another human being for hearing purposes (and nothing more). Needless to say, taking cases with her is a relief.

So, when a new case is available, an email is sent out to all the advocates. Cases are claimed on a first-come first served basis. When we saw this case come up, though I already had two, and the location of the hearing were not great, we snatched it up. We did this for a few reasons, but one stands out the most: the client was involved in the case that we just appealed. She was terminated for the same reason as our last client. Let's just say that Lindsay and I know the case, just a little.

We sat down with our client, and told her she had to ask for an adjournment - this is when a case is temporarily closed - and we were met with hesitation. The client did not want to reschedule, she wanted to get it done. We told her that the choice was up to her, but that we not only knew the case, but we know the system. We explained how much benefit she gains from having us there. Her daughter, who was there with her, went to go call her father to get his approval, and long story concluded: she is doing as we asked.

When Lindsay and I discussed who would do the direct examination and who would take care of the cross examination, we unanimously decided that Lindsay would do the direct and I would do the cross. We both reasoned that the employer is already scared of me quite a bit, and that the second time around would be classic.

After meeting with the client I sat and waited. The next meeting was going to be interesting.

I have a history of being on a first-name basis with the top administrators at schools and colleges. There are a number of reasons (including my Type-A personality) that I am given such attention. The biggest reason is usually my yearning for fairness and justice. If I feel something I wrong, I try to fix it.

I walked towards the Dean's Suite. I walked in to a smiling Dean and walked out no better off than I was when I entered. The Dean, however, was no longer smiling. But this is a story for another time. Sorry, folks.

I came home very drained and only wanting to sleep. So, that is what I am going to do now.

My subconscious is my happy place. So is CNN. And, Carl Bernstein is old.

Bat To Head Syndrome - February 4, 2008

Monday hit me like a corked bat, straight to my head (not corked).

In order to understand my woes, it is necessary to understand my schedule.

Monday:
- Property Class
- Meeting with Student Bar Association Rep to Budget for a Big Event We Are Planning
- Case with Client 1
- Meeting with Professor 1
- Meeting with Professor 2
- Work to be done: Research and Research Report; Prep for Case 2

Tuesday:
- Case with Client 2
- Turn in Research Report before 12:00PM
- Civil Procedure
- Meeting with Client 3
- Meeting with Dean
- Work to be done: Reading for Contracts; Reading for Property

Wednesday:
- Contracts
- Fellowship Meeting
- Law for Dummies Class
- Property
- Work to be done:
- Reading for Contracts; Reading for Civil Procedure; Prep for Interview

Thursday:
- Interview with Los Angeles Public Defender in Manhattan @ NYU
- Missing: Contracts and Law School for Idiots
- Civil Procedure
- Work to be done: Prep for Appellate Advocacy; Prep for Career Fair

Friday:
- NYU Career Fair with Michelle
- Pass out on couch.

It is important to note that I only go one day without wearing a suit this week; this is a tie of my personal record.

Keeping me busy is a good thing. Most anybody who knows me will attest that I do the best under pressure with what would otherwise be too much for a normal person to handle. In fact, whether subconscious or with active knowledge, I seem to hunt down the most packed schedule possible.

Today was an interesting day. I got a quick start with Property class. The assigned reading contained nearly 50 definitions, just enough to make me go crazy (brought to me by the makers of the "G-d Hates Me Lake"). Property law is quite interesting and very useful, but is not my favorite. I could not see myself settling disputes between owners of land, estates or any sort of Chattel (look it up).

I got through the two-hours of preaching - revisit the description of my professor - and was ready to get my hearing on. The excitement began when three gorgeous - and very religiously desirable - ladies who site behind me ask me why I was looking so "snazzy". This is the moment that a guy like me cherishes. I never like to brag or make myself sound good, unless somebody opens the door and invitingly asks me. When that door is open, watch out. Perhaps this is why I like interviews.

I turned to the object of what was to be my verbal affection and proceeded to make insinuated and very non-literal love to myself. I told them that I had a hearing today.

Cue the disgusted faces.

What did I do? Hearing? And then it hit me that when a student says they have a hearing, it is usually a bad thing.

I had to counter the disgust. I am trying a case today in front of a judge for unemployment law. I told them about how it is a real case, in front of real judge, in my best Judge Judy intro impression. I included that I get to do all the stuff that we don't get to do in law school, and that basically, it is what keeps me coming back.

After I finished building myself up, nothing could stop me.

Cue the Judge.

I had spoken to one of the third-year law students about the Judges at the site that I go to most often. Of course, my disdain for the incompetent Judge, and he told me about his least favorite. Two out of three Judges in this one location were the subject of the conversation. I finally got my chance to meet Bad Judge number two.

There is a spectrum of Judges and two scales. This is a lot to contend with. The first scale, or what we shall call the "Ego Scale" goes from hating the job to loving ones-self. The second is one I know as the "Rule Scale". This one is a bit more complicated. It starts at a total disregard for any rules of evidence or procedure to a love-affair with the application of the rules. Judge One, or the incompetent Judge, hates her life and hates the rules. Judge Two loves the rules almost as much as he loves himself and his title.

Judge One despises me, so of course, I am only going to take cases in front of Judge Two. And, today I had Case 1 in front of him.

We will play a game about the worth of my partner. Finish this sentence: "What is he good for? Absolutely _____ "

If you said, "nothing," you win a prize suitable for this occasion - nothing.

He saw me take out my notes and questions. He said, "You printed it out?" I told him, "uh, yeah!"

I asked him if he did, and upon his answer of no, I looked puzzled and asked him if he memorized his, then? He said, "Dude, I am going to do it from my computer." I relayed to him that he was not going to be able to use it, he argued with me, and ended up not listening.

We walked into the hearing and he placed his computer on the desk. The inquisitive Judge looked at him and asked what he was doing. After he tried to explain to the Judge that he had notes on his computer, the Judge lambasted him and told him to shut it.

My partner also has Bronchitis, and put a cough drop into his mouth without asking the Judge. You could hear the hard cough drop swishing around his mouth, hitting his teeth. The clicking and loud swallowing was quite a scene-maker.

I had to do something. I then turned to the Judge and explained for my partner that my partner is a little under the weather and that it was not candy.

He was also wearing very nice, but very-not-suit-pants, pants.

You now understand where I am coming from when I say worthless and semi-embarrassing.

As I said, my client is the most believable man ever, but we did not even get to him today. I was tending to the direct examination of our client, so my partner had his chance to show me his worth when performing the cross examination of the employer. My partner struggled along in his cross of the lone employer present. He tried three different times to ask three different questions, and all three times he was shut down by the Judge for one reason or another. His grand total of questions answered by the employer was zero.

I was blown away. He did it again!

The Judge decided to get two witnesses on the phone for questioning during the hearing. After asking his questions, the Judge turned to us and asked us if we had any questions for the witnesses (after they were asked one at a time). After the first witness was questioned, when the Judge turned to my partner to ask him if we had anything, the famous blank stare was returned. Super Me to the rescue. On the spot I cross-examined the witnesses and dealt with an adversarial Judge. He made me fight for my questions.

At one point, the employer pulled out a stack of time cards and wanted to enter them into evidence. I had suspected this would occur, so I prepped my partner on how to object, and what to do. Again, he froze when asked if we had any objections to the time cards being entered. I answered with an objection as to the time card's authenticity. The Judge recessed for five minutes so that we could "look the cards over". The truth is, I did not need the time. I knew exactly what was on the cards and their condition.

When we returned, the Judge asked me if I had any further objections. I stated that the Claimant renews his objection as to the authenticity of the time cards, and that I wished to bring to the Judge's attention the fact that there are three identifiably different handwriting styles within the stack of the time-cards (of handwriting on the cards, where my client's name was printed) and that not one of those three handwriting's belonged to that of my client. I further pointed out that on not one card was there any signature on the line that said "signature". As such, there was no way to authenticate the cards, and so on and so forth.

The Judge said, "Do you have any evidence that shows that these are not his time cards?" Did he ever go to law school? He said he practiced, but there is no way to know when the man made a statement like that?

I wanted to reach across the table and handily place my New York Labor Law statutes in his face and point out the definition of "burden of proof" and then show him the rules of evidence.

Anyhow, with my objection clearly noted on the record (an appealable issue), he entered it into evidence.

It became clear that the only rules that applied were those that weakened my client's case.

He also kept referring to us as law students on the record, which irked me to no end. I wanted to call him by his normal title of Mr. instead of Judge, but I don't think that would have made him happy.

The Judge decided that he wanted to hear the Employer's other witnesses, so he decided to adjourn the case to a later date.

I really wanted to get this out of the way.

Of course, the Employer and his witnesses (via telephone) lied through their pants. They contradicted themselves and gave highly calculated answers. For example, one owner said that my client's supervisor did not make an announcement, but the supervisor said that he did make an announcement to the workers, including my client, but then he said that he never spoke to my client.

My head was spinning, and it has not stopped.

My two meetings with my professors went exactly how I foresaw them going. The production was the same that administrators and professors nationwide are notorious for: nothing. Their infallibility is not to be challenged.

When I got home, all I wanted to do was sleep. Alas, that was not even possible. I had to finish my research report that is due tomorrow, and read for civil procedure.

The rest of my night (as if there was a "rest") was filled with laying in bed, contemplating sleep and preparing for tomorrows case, with the same Judge. I planned on going to bed before 10:00PM, because I really was tired, but my lifeless body had work to do.

Hopefully my partner is more prepared for the case tomorrow. The Great Puppet-Master in the Sky knows he will not be. I do not know why I even try.

This is my life.