Spring Break

This is the last day of spring break. I was gloriously unproductive over break; my laziness was unrivaled. And yet, I feel resentment that this, my last day, must be spent in the library, when the sun appears to be breaking through the clouds outside.

I really should have been working harder, but it felt so amazing to just relax for a few days. Monday of this past week I had an interview with a federal general counsel office - I don't think it went well. From the moment I sat down, the head boss lady seemed to be challenging everything I said. It seemed as though she was trying to dissuade me from wanting the job. On top of that, they won't have a decision made until mid-April. Oy vey.

Back to Business Associations - by far the most boring class this term.

The Publishable Piece

I'm in the process of finishing my publishable piece for law review (due on Friday). I keep adding and taking away and revising what I already have. Writing right now feels like trying to control the aperture on an old-school SLR camera: constantly finding and then losing focus on my subject. What am I trying to say? I hardly know anymore. But I do know it will be done on Friday, and my spring break can begin.

Back from NAAC

I've been back from NAAC for a week and I still feel fairly exhausted. It was both one of the most exhilirating and terrifying experiences I've ever had. It was funny though - once I opened my folder on the podium and looked the judges squarely in the eye, the fear dissipated, and I realized how engaging I found the challenge of oral argument. The worst part is before when you are pacing around in the corridor trying to anticipate terrible questions and having horrifying fantasies of tripping over your own two feet on the way to the podium.

My partner was phenomenal. Such a good man - kindhearted but assertive. We made a good team. There were two teams of two each, and our coach and bailiff came with us. We flew down to San Francisco on Thursday on a 7:17 a.m. flight, which meant getting up at 4:30 a.m. to finish packing. Our bailiff had arranged for a shuttle from the airport to the hotel, which took the guess work out of trying to get around and made the trip much more relaxed. After we checked into our rooms at the Hotel Monaco (posh!) the whole gange went to the Cheesecake Factory. (Out of all the restaurants in San Francisco, we pick the chainiest of them all.) It was interesting to discover how little we all knew each other. Amy, the girl on the other team who helped me so much with my brief, has lived in so many different places: Maine, Montana, San Francisco, Africa! I felt young and inexperienced in comparison. After lunch we spent the next few hours going over our arguments and pulling on panty hose. There was something calming each day in the time it took to put on the layers of professional get-up: the make-up, the hair, the nylons, the skirts, the jackets buttoned and pressed just so -like a knight putting on his armor. We all took a cab over to the federal courthouse where we would be arguing. While the outside of the courthouse was somewhat concrete and fascist, the inside was gleaming marble, paneled wood and old leather, and for the first time it felt real. Although the organizers of the competition had neglected to supply the competitors with sufficient indications of where our briefing would be, we managed to find it in the second floor cafeteria. Our coach, Madeline, started to tell me which teams had done well last year as they came in the door, as she had been there last year to compete, but I shushed her - I didn't need to know who had the potential to crush us.

After the briefing, my partner Casey and I had to wait around until 6:15 for our first round. We spent a lot of time making small talk to distract ourselves, and the other half of the time with our shoulders stooped over our briefs, silently mouthing the already prepared sentences to ourselves. When we finally got in for our first round, we went up against a team of Beautiful People from San Diego - they were petitioners, and we were respondents. Both of the Beautiful People had a rehearsed answer for almost every question, and Casey and I were intimidated. When it came down to the judging, however, the judges told Casey and I that we had a much better grasp on sounding less stilted and canned than the other team, that we had theatricality. The judges told the other team what Ryan had told me in the past: we don't talk like we write. Still, the other team was praised for their fluidity and the strength of their arguments, and in the end it came down to an absolute tie, which was broken in our favor because we had a better brief score. It felt good to win.

The second round was not until the next day (Friday). In the morning, Amy and I found breakfast at the hotel across the street (yogurt, granola, and fresh fruit parfaits - I did make some attempt to eath healthily on this journey). Then, since Amy had lived in San Francisco before, she showed me around the city! I got to see much more of it than I had seen a few months earlier when I had been there for Lavender Law. We walked up Nob Hill, through Chinatown and Union Square. We spent a couple of hours shopping for new suits - I was Amy's personal shopper.

After our walk I quickly grabbed something to eat and spent the next couple of hours going over my notes and slipping back into the uniform. (I soon realized that any attempt to do homework on the trip was futile. All of my time was dedicated to the NAAC Problem). We went back to the courthouse where Casey and I faced the other team of Beautiful People from San Diego. They were equally poised, if not more so, than their counterparts, and in fact we lost to them on the oral argument score by five points, but we won the match because our brief score was so much higher. It didn't feel like a win though.

Casey and I went out to dinner that night alone since the rest of the team had their rounds at a later time. Casey and I talked a lot about how the experience and been and about our respective relationships. He beams when he speaks of his wife. It was very sweet.

Our next round was at 9:30 the next morning. We went against Stanford: also very poised, also very polished, not nearly as beautiful. We lost, but by less than a point. That meant even more to me that our technical win over San Diego, and because the point margin was so close, it was enough to put us into the next round - the semi-finals. Matt and Amy also advanced - I was so happy for them, just as happy as I was for Casey and me. They had worked just as hard as we had, side by side - there truly was no rivalry between us. In the fourth round, after our soggy brown bag lunch provided by the competition organizers, both UO teams lost. Casey and I lost to McGeorge - we were better than them when it came to theatricality, but some of the elements in the first few rounds for which we had been praised were interpreted by these judges as faults for which we should be penalized. The whole process was such a crap shoot - it always depends on who your judge is and what he or she thinks is an effective strategy, regardless of the criteria provided on the scoring sheet. We did UO proud, though, by making it to that round.

Saturday evening, before we flew home the next morning, we all went out for dinner and drinks at the Daily Grill, the same restaurant I had eaten at with Sally when I had been in SF for Lavender Law. It was so lovely just to eat and drink with the others who had been through this experience. It is hard to describe what it is like to those who haven't gone through it - the anguish and the intensity churning in your stomach before you approach the podium, the uncertainty in the soundness of your arguments, which all vanishes once you start talking. I discovered that I truly had the capacity to get fired up, to command the respect of those older and wiser than I, all just by speaking in a manner which was clear, calm, and forceful. The thrill of that, and knowing when you've made a good, or possibly even a great argument, once you sit down, followed by the realization of all the things you might have left out - it might keep me coming back to this for years, but then again, the anguish before hand might deter me. I love the experience once I am standing before the court, sparring with better legal minds than my own, but the preparation is truly one of the most stressful things I have endured. I went to dinner last night with my friends and they all told me how stretched thin I had seemed, how inappropriate my affect was - stonefaced at jokes, laughing at the wrong times - because my mind had always been elsewhere, turning the arguments over in my head like river rocks. But the thrill of it once you begin to speak...Madam Chief Justice, may it please the court...maybe I'm hooked.