"[L]ooks can kill."

On Thursday, the California Supreme Court voted to overturn the state's ban on same sex marriages. Six of the 7 Justices on the Court were Republican appointees, and the vote was 4-3. Kenji Yoshino wrote a great article for Slate explaining the opinion and backing the CA Court. Within the article, he summarizes a difficult Con Law concept in one paragraph:

"The legal difference between the two opinions [the Massachusetts and the CA decisions] lies in the so-called "rational basis" review used by the Massachusetts court and the "strict scrutiny" deployed by the California Court. In constitutional parlance, these terms describe how closely a court will examine state legislation: will it give the legislature the benefit of the doubt, or not? Rational basis review is so lenient that it almost always results in the validation of state policies (in this sense, the 2003 Massachusetts ruling was an aberration), while strict scrutiny is so stringent that it almost always results in the invalidation of such policies. In other words, the standards supposedly only express how closely the court will look at laws, but looks can kill."

This is how I hope to write one day. It takes an enormous amount of skill to clearly and succinctly explain a difficult concept, in layman's terms, and still keep it interesting.

The article is also a good summary of the Court's decision, so check it out if you're interested.

How The Best Lawyers Do It

My aunt and uncle, Eleanor and Charles Morgan, own a company based out of Atlanta. I was hanging out with them at my grandparents' house in Birmingham when my uncle said this:

Charles: "I hate to tell you Sharon, but I hate lawyers."
Me: "Haha. Most people do."
Charles: "Well, I do like my attorney, for one reason: I tell him what I want or need, and he makes it happen. He doesn't tell me what I need to do."

I've been thinking about this ever since we had that conversation. Uncle Charlie has a point -- a good lawyer should be able to argue either side and get the outcome that their client wants. But we do work within a system of set rules, and lawyers don't have the authority to change the rules. There are things we can and can't do, outcomes that are more or less probable.

If I were a real lawyer, I would probably be guilty (heh) of deciding the best outcome and then telling my client what we need to do to get there, but this conversation highlighted something good. Listening is important. Listen to your client, find out what they want, then figure out how to get it for them (of course, working within the rules). In my perception, that's what the best lawyers do.

"He's not just a secret Muslim,"

"He's a secret space traveling Nazi Muslim." --Stephen Colbert on Barack Obama

"You can learn a lot in a short time when there are tanks in the streets."

I bought a few books before leaving Tuscaloosa, and it's great to be indulging in some non-law related pleasure reading. One of the books I bought is a collection of the Best American Magazine Writing from 2007. It may sound light, but it's really a collection of feature and political writing from magazines like Vanity Fair and The Economist. I just finished reading a profile of the writer Christopher Hitchens, written by Ian Parker in The New Yorker.

First, I'm amazed at the volume of material by writers like Hitchens. He writes political and literary commentary and has published several books on different subjects. His friends have said that sometimes he'll excuse himself after dinner, write a column, and return before the subject of conversation has changed. He's constantly writing.

I first encountered his work at Slate.com, where he writes a column at least once a week. The thought that resonated with me most, however, was his attitude towards writing in the face of personal tragedy. His mother committed suicide in an Athens hotel, and while he was there, he churned out an insightful expose on the state of Greek politics. Here's the quote that struck me:

"'Everyone said, 'Christopher, how could you?' I said 'How could I not?' It was therapeutic to write. No -- consoling. Useful.'"

I don't write because it's therapeutic. I write because it's something useful, and doing something useful is therapeutic in the sense of regaining confidence and purpose after something negative has happened. It's also, I hope, contributing something positive and practical to someone in the world.

Here's the other quote from that piece that hit me. It's Hitchens talking about the turmoil in Athens while he was there:

"You can learn a lot in a short time when there are tanks in the streets."

True in general, too.

Also:

CNN is projecting that Clinton will win the West Virginia primary.

Home

I'm at my parents' house in MD happily regaining the stress-related weight that I lost with lots of good cooked-by-mama food. Sometimes, it's good to be spoiled.

The Southland

The Birmingham airport has free wi-fi, and convenient little bars for using your computer. Or maybe they're for drinking. Whatever.

At Dulles, the wi-fi is $10 per day. No way, Jose. I'll get my free internet from Krystal and the Birmingham airport, thankyouverymuch. The Southland isn't so bad.

Krystal Wi-Fi

I'm staying at my grandparents' house for the next few days, sans internet. The closest place for wi-fi is a Krystal, a fast food place like White Castle that serves mini-burgers for stoners. So I'm sitting here at Krystal with my diet coke, catching up on news and, importantly, celebrity gossip. Come visit me if you're in Birmingham.

Choose to Hope

The same anonymous commenter strikes again, this time with a much more encouraging message:

I am also the person who complimented you on your posts on ATL some time
ago. I did not reach out to you when you asked to know who I was because,
frankly, I want to protect my anonymity. I still do. But for your information, I
am an associate at a large firm in a large city, and I am more than several
years removed from law school. I read ATL most days, and I read your blog when
you post new items. ATL and this blog are the only two non-sports blogs I
read.

Regarding ATL, you took an unfair amount of flak from bitter associates,
but the fact is that you were much better than they cared to admit. Your byline
did not say "David Lat," however, and that was fatal for you. Even as bitter as
I am, I still saw that you were and are a good writer, and frankly, you paved
the way for a lot of folks' acceptance of Kash. Without you, there is no Kash.
You were the sacrificial lamb, unfortunately, but good to see that you survived
your first year of law school.

I also think Kash and David are doing a great job over at ATL, and I learned a lot from that experience.

Just to be clear, I wasn't condemning the first anonymous post. In fact, I thought it was well written and haunting. I'm just not at that jaded part of life yet, so I choose to be more hopeful.

Personally, this past week has been really tough, and this piece of encouragement means a lot to me. Thank you, whoever you are.

Eloquent, but Dark

Check out this dark post from an anonymous commenter in response to my celebratory post yesterday about being a 2L:

The hardest year of your life will be your first year out of law school grinding away at a law firm or government agency learning how to be a lawyer.

Once you pass that, the hardest year of your life will be the first year you make partner or head of your group.

Then, the hardest year of your life will be the year you get divorced and lose everything.

After that, the hardest year of your life will be when your kid gets arrested and convicted of a felony while you get diagnosed with diabetes, heart disease, kidney disease, or some other condition partially or wholly spurred on by your job.

After that, you'll be dead, so who cares.

Welcome to your future.

Whoever posted this is right in one sense. I realize that law school is, in the end, just school. We're not in Iraq; we're not facing a million other incredible difficult situations that would far outweigh the struggle of law school. It's really a privilege to be here, and I'm grateful for the chance. But that doesn't temper my excitement for having completed a very difficult year.

The comment is representative of the jaded, macabre humor that law students and lawyers often engage in. Remember the post from a few weeks back with the quotes from the law week T-shirt? The first quote was "I predict universal failure."

I recognize that law school is not the hardest thing we'll ever face, but the first year was one heck of a challenge. I'm proud of my class for sticking it out this far.

Fodder for a Thousand "Women Drivers" Jokes

Danica Patrick runs over a member of her Indy pit crew, and feminists across the country cringe.

ADDED: It was a member of someone else's pit crew, not her own.

Officially Declaring 2L Status

WE MADE IT! I may have been one day late (my classmates all took their last exam yesterday), but I finished! Who knows if we passed, but we're officially declaring 2L status. You know what that means? NOT being a 1L anymore. It means choosing our own classes and not having the fear of God in our eyes while trying to balance 17 books in one arm and a giant cup of coffee in the other. It means we're 1/3 of the way done with law school and we can make fun of the 1Ls in the fall.

It means the hardest year of my life, and probably many of my classmates' lives, is over.

Congratulations, everyone. We made it.

Final Hours of Being a 1L

Today's the day. I'm taking my last exam at 1:15, so I'm only a 1L for a few more hours. Heck yes!

Wish me luck!

Darn Tornado Ruined My Study Break

Just now, I was walking out of the law school building when I heard a worker on a walkie talkie say "Yep, it's a tornado warning now." So I turned my little self around and went back in the building. This is pretty common in Alabama, but hearing tornado sirens still makes me uncomfortable.

Alabama's law school is all in one big building, and the structure has a ton of walls facing outside that are just glass. The library has big skylights, so when there's a warning, they clear us out. There are a couple of exams going on right now -- I wonder what they'd do if the power went out. It would certainly send the records office, which is responsible for administering exams, into a tizzy.

So now I'm sitting with a bunch of people watching the weather on TV in the lounge area. Even though my house might be safer, I'm going to wait it out in the law school because I'm a wus and don't want to go home alone.

You and Your Expansive Face

This entirely frivolous article about American Idol amused me. First, the writer described Jason Castro's face as "expansive." Is it a dis (oh yeah, I just said "dis") or a compliment to say someone has an "expansive face"?

Second, this quote made me laugh:

After Castro's cover of "I Shot the Sheriff," a less-than-impressed [Simon] Cowell said: "I don't know what you're thinking!"

Castro replied: "I'm thinking, Bob Marley!"

ADDED: I linked to this a few weeks ago, but I still think it's so odd that CNN is selling T-shirts with their headlines on them. Here's the link to the T-shirt with the American Idol headline on it. Do you really want a shirt that says "Another 'Idol' forgets the lyrics."?

"Not cute at all."

The gods of law school have not smiled on me lately. I've had the worst luck this exam period. Last semester I chipped my tooth (biting my nails during class -- I totally brought that one on myself). The dentist fixed it, but the filling came loose yesterday. If it had been one of my back teeth, I wouldn't have worried as much about it, but it was a very conspicuous chip on one of my front teeth. Thankfully, the dentist fit me in yesterday to fix it.

I knew it looked bad (hence my hurry to get it repaired), but I just had to laugh at the dentist's reaction when he saw it.

Dentist: "So show me what's going on. Give me a big smile."
Me: [Wide smile]
Dentist [With a horrified look on his face]: "Oh! Oh, not cute. Not cute at all."

You know it's pretty bad when the dentist tells you your teeth are ugly.

I'll Love You Till the End of Time

Every time this Go Phone commercial plays, I ask myself, "Why are there fat people singing about phones on my TV? And one of them is holding a slab of raw meat! WHAT is going on in the advertising world today?"

Man Admits to Using Voodoo to Seduce Teen Girls

Did it work? He pleaded guilty to first- and second-degree rape, so I guess it worked for him at some level. Then again, he did get caught, so Voodoo is clearly not a great solution to all problems. For example, Voodoo probably won't help me get an A on my Property exam today, although sticking pins in a doll resembling my professor might make me feel better.

Back to Work

I'm back to work and feeling fairly normal again. I missed my Evidence final while in the hospital, but besides that, I'll take everything on time. Property is up next; wish me luck!

A Good Buzz

A good buzz. And blurs.

A good buzz and some possibly important blurs are the things I remember from being in the hospital. I had just taken my Constitutional Law final, came home and took a nap, and woke up shivering with a fever of 105. Basically, I blame law school for the rest of this story.

After discerning where I was, who I was, and what time it was, I rolled over to my phone and called my boyfriend. “I need to go to the health center.” “Ok baby, I’ll be over in a few minutes.”

He picked me up, drove me to the student health center, where they took my temperature. 104.7. I thought the nurse was talking about a radio station when she first said it. Something about that number scared the nurses. They yanked my hoodie away from me, threw me in a bed and took away my blanket. All of this, in my compromised mental state, made me very angry. Then they brought out the ice water.

After dunking a rag enough times in the ice water so that it was soaking wet, they dripped it all over my shivering little hoodie-less body. I don’t really remember what happened at this point, but I’ve heard from other sources that I yelled ineffectually and stomped my foot a few times.

After realizing that rags and ice water were not going to cure my fever, the student health center sent me to the real emergency room. The people there threw me in a room with a gown that had 21 buttons and at least 12 ties, and told me to strip. For real? You expect an angry, sick girl to figure that how to put out on a gown that has 21 buttons and 12 ties and looks like a straight jacket? At this point, there was more foot stomping, and my 21-year old brother embarrassedly helped me get dressed. From this point on is a blur – there was a spinal tap (yes, like the funny movie; no, not funny in real life), a dark hospital room, and way too few shots of Demerol. At some point after I was given my first painkiller, I thought it was an appropriate time to start rapping some incoherent Jay-Z. Painkillers and Jay-Z do seem to complement each other.

I have distorted memories of the next few days. I know I don’t have meningitis, although lupus and leukemia are still a possibility. My temperature slowly returned to normal, and they released me yesterday morning. When they first released me, it felt like a 300-pound man had jumped angrily on my back. Today, it feels like that man turned into a midget. The buzz is gone (unfortunately), and I feel almost normal, although I wish I knew what caused all of this. The default answer, for now: law school.