Numbers
Some numbers running through my head...
33 - the number of years my parents have been married as of yesterday.
0 - the number of surprise birthday parties I was invited to this weekend, despite the fact that one is being thrown for a very good friend.
48 - the numbers of hours I worked upon leaving work Thursday evening.
2 - the number of sweaters I bought at Banana Republic upon leaving work Thursday evening to make myself feel better. Hey, I left the store with 3 and am returning one. Things could have been much worse.
2 again - the number of pieces of apple pie I had for dinner upon leaving the mall on Thursday night.
3 - the number of cases my judge took under advisement from Friday's docket. "Under advisement" are two dreaded words in the life of a law clerk. Taking something under advisement means more work for me.
3.5 - the number of hours I spent in Urgent Care this afternoon. My eyes are nasty and red and itchy and apparently, infected. But, if I use the antibiotic drops, I can't wear my contacts. And my glasses are about 5 years old, which means the prescription falls woefully short of what I need. Sigh.
Fantasy Congress
Just for fun, I decided to make a league in the Fantasy Congress game for everyone to join. Basically, it works just like Fantasy Baseball, but you "draft" legislators and you get points for bills being passed. I am not sure what makes me laugh harder - the fact that someone actually created such a League, or said he did it just for fun.
This isn't really funny
Or interesting even. I wrote it last night as I was wrapping up a 15 hour work day. In the bright light of morning, this looks worse than it did last night. Still, I will share.
The Virginia Supreme Court is not a big fan of summary judgment. To the non-lawyers out there, summary judgment is when the judge says “Yep, you win” to one side without actually having a trial. Summary judgment is popular in the federal system, but the SCOVA likes to give everyone his or her day in court. It is slightly paradoxical in a state in which the majority of the judiciary is pro-defendant(no, not criminal defendant, civil defendant - this is the state where a Commonwealth attorney told my judge in arguing for extradition of an accused murderer from California "We can kill him faster than they will in California"), that it would supposedly seek to get as many cases in front of a jury as possible. While the policy actually hurts plaintiffs in my opinion, rather than help them, that is a scintillating topic for another day. All I mean to share tonight is summary judgment in Virginia is an uphill and often an outright losing battle.
On my docket for Friday, I have two motions for summary judgment. I review them with a Virginia’s lawyer eye…so, basically, trying to find a way to deny summary judgment so my judge won’t get overturned on appeal. Well, it is late, and I just opened up my second motion, and upon reviewing it, I sent the following email to Dawg, a co-worker so dubbed because the only thing that forces him to leave work at all is the fact that he has a dog.
“"In an unprecedented move sure to send shockwaves from Arlington to Richmond, Judge granted not one, but TWO motions for summary judgment Friday, October 27, 2006. As he walked out of the courtroom, he looked dazed and bewildered, and was heard to have muttered "Law clerk? Where did I get this law clerk?"
Dawg nobly attempted to flatter me:
… “Law clerk? Where did I get this law clerk?” When asked later to clarify his remarks, Judge explained that he felt lucky to have a clear-thinking law clerk unafraid to recommend a course of action despite any risk of criticism.
Ok, this is a pretty lame post. But, KS, this is my official shout out to you. I would have much preferred dinner with the Peapod to writing nonsensical memos and even worse posts.
For those who can't wait...
Because, let's face it, January is still awfully far away...
Season 6I have so many questions!! Like why is Chloe a brunnette now? And, how come David Palmer's brother is the President? And why do the Chinese give Jack up? Is this finally the season that offs Jack?
I can barely contain my enthusiasm. I have watched it three times already...want to take bets as to how many more?
Ok, I promise more posts of substance soon. I have been looking at my archives, and I used to be pretty funny. My life used to be a lot more entertaining. There are thoughts milling around up there, I promise to share soon.
Conversation I just had
Which was too good not to share.
Me: This is Jersey
Caller: Um, yes, this is law clerk?
Me: yes, how can I help you?
Caller: My name is X
Me: Hello, X. Are you calling about your divorce?
Caller: Yes, I received a copy of a final decree of divorce from Attorney Y (his wife’s attorney).
Me: Okay…
Caller: So, I want to know…this is final?
Me: Yes.
Caller: So we are officially divorced?
Me: Yes.
Caller: So, I can take this paper tomorrow and get married to next woman?
Me: Um….well, the final decree proves you are divorced.
Caller: Yes, So, now I can get married to next woman?
Me: If you want to, I mean, you are divorced…
Caller: Okay, great. Tomorrow, I am going to get married to next woman.
Me: Okay…Congratulations!
His final decree of divorce was signed a few weeks ago. But I am sorry, ladies, some lucky gal has already snatched him up.
This will be quick....
because I got absolutely dumped on at work today, and there is no end in sight.
But my least favorite co worker got in trouble today. Let's call her Lulu. Lulu, in a word, bugs. She sends out all courthouse wide emails expecting people to drop everything to help her, and making the rest of us look lazy in the process. She moans about how she doesn't feel well in an attempt to get out of doing work. She allows her b**bs to make appearances at work, and I think we can all agree, this should not happen. She laughs at the rest of us who work late as she skips out the door every day at 5 p.m., never asking anyone if they need help, because you know, that might interfere with her social life that involves her going out and practicing shooting a gun at 3 a.m. on some abandoned property out west in Virginia.
So, that's the back story of Lulu. I don't think it quite conveys how much she sucketh, but maybe a little bit.
Well, there were big happenings in the courthouse today. A first degree murder in one courtroom, and a wrongful birth case in another courtroom. Many law clerks spent the day watching the courtroom dramas unfold. Lulu entered the courtroom to hear some of the arguments in the wrongful birth case. The courtroom deputy, who are all really nice, but not the people you want to piss off, came over to her and in front of the ENTIRE courtroom, motioned for her to take off her sunglasses. He actually went over to her and told her to take them off. They were on top of her head...this was at 3:00 pm, by the way. She hadn't been outside in hours, and it wasn't even that sunny today. I got an email from a fellow law clerk giving me this little tidbit and I just thought of how embarrassed she must have felt. I felt badly. And then I remembered how she swiftly and without hesitation has thrown me and my co-workers under a rapidly moving bus, while she stood smiling on the side of the road. So that whole feeling badly thing didn't last long.
Poster Child
Picture Jersey. In fancy gold skirt. Wearing actual lipstick. Straight hair even. The caption below reads: all dressed up, with no place to go.
I think this pity party needs more ice cream. Or wine. Or both.
Fair warning: it is not as tragic as it sounds. My friend, Red, took me to see
Twelve Angry Men at the Kennedy Center. I treated myself to a new skirt, because frankly, I had no clue what to wear that wasn't work clothes or jeans. And not to brag, but I look pretty good. Normally, Red would be up for a few drinks following such an outing but she's tired and has to work in the morning. So, after accidentally rear ending a British diplomat in the parking garage, she returned me safely home. Hence, the pity party. I told you it wasn't as tragic as I initially made it sound. But, without my flair for the dramatic, this blog would be extraordinarily dull.
I should know better
I really should. Good things do not happen to me when I wander over to Whole Foods, feeling slightly down about the state of my affairs, and all I want to do is get in and out of the store without seeing anyone. Since I am sick, I was bundled up probably more than was required for a walk to Whole Foods, but since I was sick, I could give a shit. I just wanted a frozen pizza and some fruit for breakfast. And maybe something healthy to bring for lunch today. Simple enough, right?
But, no. This is WHOLE FOODS. The evil Whole Foods where I first found out TH had a new girlfriend. The Whole Foods where I once ran into a display of some packaged organic snack and sent it flying. This Whole Foods has not been good to me, but I continue to return. Last night, sporting way too many clothes and an unflattering ponytail, I ran into a boy I met a few weeks ago. I won't bore you with the details, but suffice it to say, I had been expecting (or at least hoping) to hear from him. The fact that I hadn't by 9:30 last night was one of the reasons my steps were not so springy on my way to Whole Foods. And there he is, all tall and dorky, at the deli counter. Too sick and tired for bull, I walk over to say hello and he greets me with a look of mild shock and a casual "I was going to call you on my way home."
Sure you were, buddy. Sure you were.
So, yeah, no more Whole Foods for me.
Part 1 of ?
What a weekend. The birthday festivities that lasted a few extra days were truly special. Friday night, I played hostess to a bunch of random friends at a local bar. While it was great to see people, it is also hard when you, the star of the show, are the only person that a guest knows. The first hour I was very good about the, “This is AKM, she and I went to law school together, and now she works for a firm in Fairfax”, and “This is the Editrix, she and I went to college together, now she is in publishing.” That whole tying people together thing didn’t last very long. Although I tried to create a love connection. I have this guy friend, Penn State Fan, who has not dated a single girl in the five plus years that I have known him. And, girls, he is completely dateable. He is a tad shorter than me, (but let’s face it, lots of guys are), he is sweet, smart, has a great job, and tells a great story. He is terrified of girls though. Whenever we go out on the town, he gravitates towards those girls who are “safe”, the ones who are dating his friends, married to his friends or so established as his friends to not be an option. I can tell he is envious of his brother’s relationship with my roommate but he seems incapable of doing anything about it. He says something will happen when it happens. But last time I checked, finding *it* does require one to invest time in another person, to take a chance on love, and possibly to fall flat out on our faces. We’ve all done it, sometimes it royally sucks, but everyone knows that when we do find *it*, we will remember all the past crap with a roll of the eyes and possibly a smack on the forehead. A “What was I thinking?” type moment.
So, I invited a perfectly lovely girl out on Friday night, with the hopes of introducing her to PSF. Subtlety is not my strong suit when I’ve been drinking, nor do any of PSF’s friends quite grasp the concept. We may have embarrassed him some. His friends were being rather obvious, and well, frankly, I probably was too. I guess his notion of something happening doesn’t involve me throwing a girl at him. But hey! Do most guys really complain about that? This one did. I wouldn’t complain if my friends threw cute boys at me. So, to all my friends who read this, where are my cute boys??
Friday night ended with AKM and me, alone at a table, planning our eventual takeover of the world. It is coming, kids. This is your official warning. Our world will consist of no leggings, skinny jeans, or long knit sweaters cinched at the waist with large leather belts. While I stayed up until 4 am on Saturday dancing to 80s music, I refused to acknowledge that 80s fashion has returned. Having just returned from a very fashionable city, I am sad to report that it is indeed 1985 in New York City. And worse yet, it is not a flattering look on most people. Now, I love love love fashion. I love love love clothes and I read Vogue, InStyle and the like. I am not on top of every trend but I can hold my own. This weekend, I declared myself unfashionable and proud. My jeans were perfectly bootcut, my shirt the appropriate length, and my heels, pointy and metallic. Maybe fashion has passed me by, but I am okay with it.
Oh, I must share this. Mrs. DW and the Editrix know of my obsession with all things Bobby Flay. Of Food Network fame?? No? Well, he is fabulous. And, I must say his restaurant was fabulous as well. And everyone there clearly thought we were celebrities. I am serious!! I guess mainly tourists are attracted to a restaurant owned by a celebrity chef and tourists in NYC are always hoping to run into famous people, but both the Editrix and I noticed that people at the tables surrounding us kept looking over at us. We were that hot. Despite our fashion faux pas.
More on the weekend coming soon. Thereare lots more to be told, and some crazy wacky work stories.
Weather
I blame today's general apathy on the gloomy weather that has just descended on the DC area and intends to stick around for a few days. I have absolutely no desire to do any work today. None. Luckily, my judge is out of town, so things are nice and slow. The past few days I spent working on ahabeass corpus petition. For those who don't know, habeas corpus is what a person in jail, or detained by the government in some way, files as petition to the court that essentially says "Hey, I dont' belong in jail. Let me out." Unfortunately, very few petitions have merit, and most often get dismissed with very little fanfare. One that recently (okay, a few months ago but who is counting? Actually, the guy in jail is probably counting which is what finally kept me here late on Monday finishing it up) came across my desk caught my attention though. Something about the amount of time the Defendant had served was not right. While math is not my strong suit, the numbers just didn't add up to me. I pointed this out to my judge, who agreed, and granted the prisoner a hearing. I was happy because it is nice to do something at work that actually positively influences people. Helping people obtain divorces just doesn't have that same warm your heart type feeling. There is something disconcerting about a person telling you that he (or she) is off to get wasted now that the divorce is final. I want to warn them that perhaps that attitude will only land them in the middle of another situation from which they will need the court's help to extricate themselves. Sigh.
So, I haven't been all that productive today. Just not really feeling it. I think I might skip out early and go shopping. Lots of fun birthday plans in the next few days that require cute outfits. Tomorrow night is dinner with Cheeky Co-worker, his wife and my Sister. Then, it is off to the local Irish bar where I will drink a few beers, tell everyone how I used to have the Unicorn song on a record, and fumble my way through the hand signals. Saturday morning, the Editrix and I are hitting the Big Apple, where we will meet up with Mrs. DW and hit the town in search of boys to put us on scholarship (read: buy us the overpriced drinks Manhattan has to offer). Sunday, my dad will fetch me from the East Village and bring me to my parents' house, which I haven't set foot in since Christmas of last year. My couch and I have some catching up to do.
Yes, lots of plans. And lots of plans require lots of clothes. I am officially leaving early today to shop.
Happy Birthday
To Me.
I am not returning to my blog just to solicit presents from the small number of faithful readers that remain. Rather, a birthday always seems to encourage introspection. I am looking back at the 27th year of my life and it was not one of those even keel years. Within one year, I experienced true euphoria when I found out that I passed the bar but also suffered a tremendous and debilitating heartbreak. I worked for a few months at an awful job with barely tolerable conditions only to land a fantastic job that will (fingers crossed) translate into previously unattainable career opportunities for me.
So, this year has been a bit of a roller coaster. If you know me, you have probably seen me cry more times than you would like, and not laugh as much as I normally do. I never look forward to birthdays because frankly, getting older is a little scary. A few years ago, Belle and I were talking one of our long walks along the Potomac where we would debate the big issues pending in our lives. I told her that for as long as I could remember I thought my 27th year would be a rough one. She looked at me quizzically and asked why. It was nothing I could pinpoint, I said, it was just a feeling I have in the back of my mind that something terrible will happen in my 27th year. She tried to convince me otherwise, telling me that perhaps I would get married at 27, or fall in love, or get my dream job. I dismissed her encouragement because she just didn’t feel what was in my heart about this year. That whatever life brought that year, it was not going to be good.
Despite that feeling, and despite the rough patch of breaking up with TH, I survived what I had anticipated was going to be a very rough year. My mother was 27 when her father died, and I have always worried that the same thing would happen to me. So, instead of dreading this birthday, I greet it with a sigh of relief and with a sense of resolve that I should no longer live in fear that bad things might happen. Because bad things do happen, and I have learned that I am way stronger than I thought I was. Maybe something awful will happen this year as well, but I can’t change it or fight it or avoid it.
But I think this birthday provides me with an opportunity to move forward with my life. A new year for me can truly be a new beginning. I promise more frequent blogging will part of that new beginning.
