I need out. I need an escape from the prison that is exams. For most of the day, I sit alone in front of my laptop, staring at outlines. I review and rereview until my eyes don't pick the words off the page anymore, and I find myself for the fourth time reading "nonoccurnence of which was a basic assumption to the contract," and still having no idea what is going on. The amazing thing about studying, is eventually, after the 50 millionth time you read over a sentence, it all comes together. Unfortuneately you realize that the sentence also isn't necessary to what you should be learning. You begin to dislike the author, concluding that the person who wrote that statement is a terrible writer, and you can say the substantial part of that statement in a much clearer form; "the parties didn't expect something to happen."
You finally get to the part of the night where it is time to go to bed. Sadly, your mind is still cranking, and it's hard to settle down. When you finally go off to dreamland, you realize that you are in a test: civ pro, torts, contracts, con law, property. Civ pro dreams are nightmares. I woke up reciting rule 11 one morning. Con law dreams are confusing at the least, and usually go beyond the exam and end with me physically running frantically around the law school, until Seigal chases me down and tells me to stop. Take the test.
Being somewhat uncreative, by reason of exhaustion, I decided I would post a long promised poem. However, while searching through my desk, I found another poem in desperate need of revision, and then realized I was in desperate need of an academic activity beyond the Restatement. Deciding all this, here are both poems. The first is in it's original pentameter form, although I probably could have made up a title for it. The second is in a radically revised form.
1. Untitled.
Oh! How I love the begining of fall!
Gentle the wind. How it blows on the seas.
Crisp and cool air travels swiftly to all,
wildly whistiling through willow trees.
How does the wind feel to travel so free?
Swirling around shouting audible moans.
Sailors don't mind, they need wind on the sea
And gladly they listen to the breeze's groans.
The wind endures such a companionship!
Sweet air is needed by all to inspire.
Intimately, softly, grazing the lip,
Shortly exhaled it is free to retire.
The ills of captivation are profound,
What force allows nature to be unbound?
2. Against Reason
The wisest man said he knew nothing;
knowing justice made one just.
How can just one simple person
exchange, for reason, faith and trust?
Slowly I'll tend to these pieces,
Strewn about a senseless world.
Logic falls in boundless creases,
around thin air my fingers curl.
The wisest man has set me free!
And now I leave this cave, afraid.
This baroque world confuses me,
yet makes confusion slowly fade.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Monday, April 16, 2007
To be a Virginian . . .
"To be a Virginian either by Birth, Marriage, Adoption, or even on one's Mother's side, is an Introduction to any State in the Union,a Passport to any Foreign Country, and a Benediction from Above." -Anonymous
Today's tragedy at Virginia Tech has broken hearts all across our nation. As a Virginian, it sears even more. This anonymous quote has been reverberating through my mind all evening.
This quote describes the pride and connection that Virginians share. I have always said that VA was the best state to live in (with, maybe the exception of Charlotte, NC). It is my favorite place to visit, considering my whole family is there. It has the most attractive men. For example, American Idol's Chris Richardson is a Virginian (and from Great Bridge, like my dad's family!) I dream about being in that state almost every night, usually involving my family.
The first time I remember seeing this quote was on a set of post cards my mom had. I am a Virginian by virtue of both of my parents, who were born and raised in the Hampton Roads area (Norfolk/Chesapeake), and by virtue of having lived in Smithfield (the place where they make all the hams) for 5 years. I can remember waking up to go to school in the mornings, and the whole city smelling like breakfast. On the bus, all the way to school, I would smell bacon. It was a delicious city.
The people in Smithfield show true southern hospitality. Everyone is friendly! My memories are golden. I can remember riding my bike around my neighboorhood, and down the hill by the lake. I can remember going to swim team practice with all my friends. I can remember Party on the Pagan- a Friday night ritual, where the whole town would go to the river, party, dance, and listen to bands. I remember going to girl scouts at Ben's Cathedral, and swinging on the swing set, seeing who could get the highest. I remember playing in the woods by the river, and building forts with my best friend Ashley. I can remember getting a double scoop superman flavored ice-cream at my friend's old fashioned ice-cream shoppe on main street, and then going to the craft store to pick out odds and ends for my little projects. I remember driving through the tunnels on the way to my grandparents homes, and seeing if I could hold my breath all the way to get a wish. I remember checking the crab nets on Megan's dock, and wading on the shore of the river. These are the memories that I embrace as a Virginian.
My brother and father STRICTLY support VA college teams. My brother, Josh, is a HUGE VA Tech fan. My cousin, Paul, has a B.S. from VA Tech. These two have been in my thoughts all day.
To know that a tragedy like this has affected my home state is miserable. Every time I think about the parents of the students who were killed, or about the students, or alumni, I can't help but cry. I wonder if anyone I went to elementry school with, or there siblings, are students there, or whether they are injured.
Sometimes all you can do is pray. It works. It hasn't failed me yet this year. I know this isn't the best of my blogs . . . I'm tired and writing on an emotionally draining subject. I'll leave you with this. Tonight, while watching MSNBC, a student was being interviewed on what he saw. Concluding the interview, he told the reporter "God Bless you." The tape cut to a bus driver, who also ended his story with "please pray for this town." Virginians are God's people; keep them in your prayers.
Today's tragedy at Virginia Tech has broken hearts all across our nation. As a Virginian, it sears even more. This anonymous quote has been reverberating through my mind all evening.
This quote describes the pride and connection that Virginians share. I have always said that VA was the best state to live in (with, maybe the exception of Charlotte, NC). It is my favorite place to visit, considering my whole family is there. It has the most attractive men. For example, American Idol's Chris Richardson is a Virginian (and from Great Bridge, like my dad's family!) I dream about being in that state almost every night, usually involving my family.
The first time I remember seeing this quote was on a set of post cards my mom had. I am a Virginian by virtue of both of my parents, who were born and raised in the Hampton Roads area (Norfolk/Chesapeake), and by virtue of having lived in Smithfield (the place where they make all the hams) for 5 years. I can remember waking up to go to school in the mornings, and the whole city smelling like breakfast. On the bus, all the way to school, I would smell bacon. It was a delicious city.
The people in Smithfield show true southern hospitality. Everyone is friendly! My memories are golden. I can remember riding my bike around my neighboorhood, and down the hill by the lake. I can remember going to swim team practice with all my friends. I can remember Party on the Pagan- a Friday night ritual, where the whole town would go to the river, party, dance, and listen to bands. I remember going to girl scouts at Ben's Cathedral, and swinging on the swing set, seeing who could get the highest. I remember playing in the woods by the river, and building forts with my best friend Ashley. I can remember getting a double scoop superman flavored ice-cream at my friend's old fashioned ice-cream shoppe on main street, and then going to the craft store to pick out odds and ends for my little projects. I remember driving through the tunnels on the way to my grandparents homes, and seeing if I could hold my breath all the way to get a wish. I remember checking the crab nets on Megan's dock, and wading on the shore of the river. These are the memories that I embrace as a Virginian.
My brother and father STRICTLY support VA college teams. My brother, Josh, is a HUGE VA Tech fan. My cousin, Paul, has a B.S. from VA Tech. These two have been in my thoughts all day.
To know that a tragedy like this has affected my home state is miserable. Every time I think about the parents of the students who were killed, or about the students, or alumni, I can't help but cry. I wonder if anyone I went to elementry school with, or there siblings, are students there, or whether they are injured.
Sometimes all you can do is pray. It works. It hasn't failed me yet this year. I know this isn't the best of my blogs . . . I'm tired and writing on an emotionally draining subject. I'll leave you with this. Tonight, while watching MSNBC, a student was being interviewed on what he saw. Concluding the interview, he told the reporter "God Bless you." The tape cut to a bus driver, who also ended his story with "please pray for this town." Virginians are God's people; keep them in your prayers.
Thursday, April 5, 2007
CAVEAT: THIS BLOG SUCKS . . .but at least I laughed!!!
It's 3:44pm, and for this caffienne cranked law student, the day is virtually complete. Sure, I'm physically present in Civil Procedure, but the closer we get to the end of the semester, the less my mind decides to sign the attendance roll.
For the last two afternoons, I have found myself infected with incessant laughter. These are both possibly "you had to be there" moments.
Yesterday was the last legal writing class of the semester. Before walking into our small, cold, u-shaped class room, my 10 fellow classmates revealed that none of us had done the assignment, which was to prepare our opening and closing arguments. When the time came for a volunteer to present, we disclosed our secrect to the teacher. Unhappily, she asked for someone to just try to make something up. Seeing an opportunity to begin to craft my argument, I volunteered.
All rise! We stood up, and I was granted permission to begin my argument. I took the stand, fixed my posture, and steadied my voice. "May it please the court. My name is Lauren Clark, and I am councel representing . . .uhhhh . . . mmm . . Mr. Robbins?!?!?!" I began to chuckle and then offered "What is his first name?" My class laughed along, and my teacher told me "William."
At this point a youtube segement, "First Year of Law School: Goofus and Gallant," flashed through my head. In this episode, Gallant, the good law student who is always PREPARED, answers the question with ease, while Goofus, the UNPREPARED student, fakes a seizure to excuse himself from answering. Imagining Goofus, as unprepared as I was, wiling in an epileptic fit, I began to laugh uncontrollably, infecting my classmates and irritating my professor.
Today the fit began right before my SBA shift. Since I had a makeup con law class at 1:00, and got to skip out of the last 30 minutes to make my shift, I was already in a cheery mood. I walked into con law, and took a seat in the back beside my friend Andrea, who is also in my legal writing section. About a minute before class, she observed that the first four rows were empty, and that our entire class was sitting, crammed into each other in the back rows. "You think he'll get the point?" she asked. The laughing began.
After leaving early, I went to the SBA store to work my shift. We ran out of quarters, so I had to give someone back a lot of dimes. He came back later to get a coke, and handed back the dimes I had given him. With a serious face, I told him "we don't take dimes here, only quarters." We both chuckled.
Andrea soon came by to keep me company for the rest of my shift. Alex stopped by and the three of us discussed an article he had sent over email. In the article, the author talks about professors who write study guides and then tell us not to use them because they will make learning "too easy," in order to reverse psychology and have us buy the outlines. We all got a good laugh over the part in the article that talks about exams, and how professors, like lazy ais, whine about doing half the work of regular professors, getting double the pay, and only having to grade one exam (which has no useful comments on it if you even get it back) at the end of the semester.
During the first five minutes of class, I looked over at my friend who gave me a warm greeting smile. I waved, and the professor, catching my friendly gesture, imitated me and asked what the hey I was doing. "I'm just saying hi to my friend Mr. Harris," I responded, the laughter begining to swell in my stomach, and escaping from my mouth. Again, after building all day I lost control, when later my professor (apparently Danny Devito look alike) made a comment to the effect that he is whipped by women.
This blog helped pass my time. Civ pro is over. Time to move on out.
For the last two afternoons, I have found myself infected with incessant laughter. These are both possibly "you had to be there" moments.
Yesterday was the last legal writing class of the semester. Before walking into our small, cold, u-shaped class room, my 10 fellow classmates revealed that none of us had done the assignment, which was to prepare our opening and closing arguments. When the time came for a volunteer to present, we disclosed our secrect to the teacher. Unhappily, she asked for someone to just try to make something up. Seeing an opportunity to begin to craft my argument, I volunteered.
All rise! We stood up, and I was granted permission to begin my argument. I took the stand, fixed my posture, and steadied my voice. "May it please the court. My name is Lauren Clark, and I am councel representing . . .uhhhh . . . mmm . . Mr. Robbins?!?!?!" I began to chuckle and then offered "What is his first name?" My class laughed along, and my teacher told me "William."
At this point a youtube segement, "First Year of Law School: Goofus and Gallant," flashed through my head. In this episode, Gallant, the good law student who is always PREPARED, answers the question with ease, while Goofus, the UNPREPARED student, fakes a seizure to excuse himself from answering. Imagining Goofus, as unprepared as I was, wiling in an epileptic fit, I began to laugh uncontrollably, infecting my classmates and irritating my professor.
Today the fit began right before my SBA shift. Since I had a makeup con law class at 1:00, and got to skip out of the last 30 minutes to make my shift, I was already in a cheery mood. I walked into con law, and took a seat in the back beside my friend Andrea, who is also in my legal writing section. About a minute before class, she observed that the first four rows were empty, and that our entire class was sitting, crammed into each other in the back rows. "You think he'll get the point?" she asked. The laughing began.
After leaving early, I went to the SBA store to work my shift. We ran out of quarters, so I had to give someone back a lot of dimes. He came back later to get a coke, and handed back the dimes I had given him. With a serious face, I told him "we don't take dimes here, only quarters." We both chuckled.
Andrea soon came by to keep me company for the rest of my shift. Alex stopped by and the three of us discussed an article he had sent over email. In the article, the author talks about professors who write study guides and then tell us not to use them because they will make learning "too easy," in order to reverse psychology and have us buy the outlines. We all got a good laugh over the part in the article that talks about exams, and how professors, like lazy ais, whine about doing half the work of regular professors, getting double the pay, and only having to grade one exam (which has no useful comments on it if you even get it back) at the end of the semester.
During the first five minutes of class, I looked over at my friend who gave me a warm greeting smile. I waved, and the professor, catching my friendly gesture, imitated me and asked what the hey I was doing. "I'm just saying hi to my friend Mr. Harris," I responded, the laughter begining to swell in my stomach, and escaping from my mouth. Again, after building all day I lost control, when later my professor (apparently Danny Devito look alike) made a comment to the effect that he is whipped by women.
This blog helped pass my time. Civ pro is over. Time to move on out.
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