Ms.Aquamarine

Then I realized, I actually like con law.

2007-08-11T08:42:00.001-07:00

This morning, after living in Charlotte over the summer and going on vacation almost every weekend, for one of the first times I woke up in my bed . I pulled my eyeshades away from my eyes, and looked at the black clock sitting in front of me. It was already 11am.

I went downstairs, brushed my teeth, and got a cold glass of water, before I headed back to my room to find something to do. Immediately, I walked over to my bookshelves, and began scanning the titles. In my English Lit undergrad, I saved most of my books, and a few textbooks and anthologies, so I can usually find something interesting to read in my down time. On the bookshelf I was scanning, I saved the top two shelves for my law books. My eyes crossed over my con law textbook, which is hard to miss, since it populates half of the second shelf, and is bright red.

I shuffled through it's immense contents, and stopped on a page detailing "Fundamental Rights Under Due Process and Equal Protection." Skimming through the seas of sentences, I stopped on a sentence, reading

" . . . the Supreme Court has considered a constitutional right to refuse medical care . . ."

Considering that the author chose to personifiy the Supreme Court, by writing that "the Supreme Court has considered," I pondered over what he was really saying. The Supreme Court doesn't just sit around and "consider" important issues; they try the most difficult issues, ones that sometimes cannot be decided in state supreme courts. They try serious cases.

Even if the author didn't know it, his sentence originated from some small courtroom in Somewhere, USA, where some person was probably being criminally tried for refusing to accept medical care. That person most likely spent years of his life in litigation, and probably under some surveillance or probation. I would love to read that case.

However, due to the sacrifice of a majority of his life over a few years, the Supreme Court was able to "consider" an important issue- the right to refuse medical care. While it might seem best to make people recieve medical care, to ensure that they are as healthy as they can be, we should be grateful to have this constitutional protection. If this fundamental right were not protected, then the government could force us to go see doctors. And even though the governement would justify this within a standard of strict scrutiny, the right to decide when to be treated is so fundamental that the government should not be allowed to infringe upon it.

And then I realized I actually like con law . . .

2007-07-09T21:39:00.000-07:00

Today was my first day back in the office from my vacation.

I walked into the law firm this morning and greeted the paralegal, and then made my way back into my cozy yellow office. Opening the door, I flicked on the light switch, and immediately saw an letter on my computer, addressed to me.

I rolled my eyes, thinking the card was another correspondence from a convicted inmate's sister, who is convinced her brother is innocent, despite the Supreme Ct's decision. She has been begging for my help, and saying God sent me, even though we have told her that it would be a conflict of interest for me to help, seeing as her brother is already represented in his post conviction relief. I hate drama, and this particular women is brimming with it.

I sauntered over to the sealed letter, and was immediately relieved, and excited, when I saw that it was from the first person I ever got to help. The lady had a tax lien on her house, wrongfully imposed by the IRS for over 1 million dollars, and within a few weeks I helped get it removed. I ripped it open. Inside was a card thanking me and wishing me luck. It was such an upper.

Thinking back to when she first arrived at our office with her sister- worried, sleepless, and complaining of ulcers- and now knowing that I helped- this is what drives me to be a lawyer- people. I wish she knew how much it means to me that she is the first person whose issue I got to resolve as a law clerk. As much as she thinks I have done for her, she has given back to me. When I help people, I feel like I get as much out of it as they do.

Why I Keep Smiling

2007-06-11T19:45:00.001-07:00

Everyday when I leave work, from the moment I get in my car until the moment that I slide my key in the door knob and step inside, I smile. I can't help it; I absolutely love this town. As I down India Hook Rd, past the restaraunt I bartend at, past the law firm I clerk at, past the turn that my mom took to drive me to catholic school or my orthodonist, past the restaurant my best friend's parents own, past the icecream palor that sells killer millers, down the drive that goes to the lakehouse, and right up to my townhouse that I share with my best friend of 11 years, I feel at home. Besides past memories, and present fun, here are the top 5 reasons I love this town:

1. Southern Hospitality. Everywhere I go, men open the doors for me. I have been escorted to my car, even in the pouring rain, and I half expected the gentlemen to throw his coat over a puddle so I wouldn't have to step in the water. Neighboors are friendly, and always chatting with each other. Everyone makes conversation (and usually throws in a "bless her heart" every now and then).

2. Radio. The radio stations here play the best music. I guess you will have to take my word on this; or just ask anyone who has lived in the area.

3. Fried pickles and sweet tea. Even this "carpet bagger" can't resist these southern treats. However, unlike most, I can only take them in small servings.

4. Entertainment. The best bars, professional sports teams of every caliber, concerts, shopping, recreational sports, lakes, an amusement park, shows, and best of all- Dave and Busters- a Chuckie Cheese for adults- 21 and older, an arcade surrounded by a bar. Ahhhh, Charlotte.

5. My friends. I went to middle school and high school here for 5 years. My best friends from undergrad moved here after graduation. It feels so good to be so close to them again. Sometimes I get butterflies just driving past the high school, or past places I used to hang out at.

I am so giddy. Tonight, someone asked why I was smiling so much. "I love this place," was my honest response. I'm already prepping my roomate for the day she will have to pry the key from my fingers, and pull me out the door. While my smile may fade as I leave, I really don't see myself frowning before then.

Celebrity Attorneys

2007-06-08T23:03:00.000-07:00

I LOVE my job! Thus far, life as a law clerk is thrilling. At this point, I've mainly been involved in civil litigation- everything from medical malpractice to corporate real estate transactions. Just this week I've started keeping track of my billable hours. So far I've mainly been taking in new clients, doing initial interviews, researching the case, moving the case along, and keeping the partners and clients updated on my work.

I love helping people; although pressured, I love that people are relying on me! I have clients who call and email me. I was just as surprised as the attorneys and paralegal when a client mailed a manila envolped to the office, and it was addressed to me!

Our firm has two attorneys. Phil practices criminal defense, and Tommy practices civil litigation. Next week, Tommy is on vacation for three days, so I get to do some more intensive criminal work with Phil. While I've done a few client interviews with Phil, our relationship thus far consists of his harassing me at lunch or in the office. The first week he told me that they had costume day at the office and to dress up as a superhero on Friday. When I asked him to take me to jail to meet with clients, he told me that I knew what a jail was like because- don't lie- I've been there before. We cut up together. Life as a professional!

Sometimes I feel sorry for Phil because Tommy more than half the reason people come to the office. Tommy is a celebrity- especially in Rock Hill. Everyone in this town knows and loves him- and I mean EVERYONE.

I was somewhat concerned earlier this week that I was working for one of those TV commercial attorneys- ambulance chasers. This all came about after about the third consecutive interview of a client saying they came to see Tommy Pope because they knew he was good- they had seen him on TV. Of course Tommy used his popism "you don't always believe what you see on TV, do you?" in response.

I was in anxious disbelief over the chance that I had lowered myself to the standard of working for a commercial attorney. Finally I asked Tommy why people had seen him on TV, and was relieved to find that he did not have a commercial! Instead, he has in the past recieved a lot of media attention because he was the elected Solicitor in the 1990s, and because he was the prosecutor on the Susan Smith case. While Phil (who worked in the solicitor's office under Tommy) has only been on Larry King Live, Tommy's TV appearances include shows such as Oprah, Dateline, and A&E. He also starred on a court TV show called "Power of Attorney." The premise of the show is that it is a Judge Judy sort of show that had celebrity attorneys representing the clients. Because of his work on the Susan Smith trial, they would fly him out to hollywood on the weekends to star as one of their "celebrity attorneys," alongside attorneys from other famous cases, such as OJ Simpson. The framed TV poster of the show beside my office, with Tommy looking tough and crossing his arms, makes me laugh everytime I see it. Celebs.

However, if not for my pressuring Tommy to tell me about his media experiences, I would have never known. Both of the attorneys I work with are down to earth, funny, and personable. Everyday at work, we are laughing about something. I also like how straight forward Tommy and Phil are. They have no reservation telling clients that they can do the work without an attorney, or that they are wasting their time pursuing a case. The firm does not charge for initial interviews, and that results in all of us doing a lot of free research and work for people. Like me, the attorneys I work with have a true concern for people, and want to help them fulfill their best interests. Perhaps this is the main reason that when I leave our office at the end of the day, I smile all the way home.

http://www.wistv.com/global/story.asp?s=5083152 - WIS TV report about when Tommy and Phil left the solicitor's office to go into the private practice where I work.

Loving the Job, Missing the Roomate

2007-05-30T21:33:00.000-07:00

Just moments ago, I got out of a hot, bubbly bath tub with a empty martini glass. The only sound in my summer townhouse was the steady deep ticking of the kitchen clock one room away. I looked under my roomate's (who owns the home) sink, and saw a light blue plastic makeup bag with pink and yellow flowers that I had given to her as part of her 8th grade birthday present. I am so lucky.

I have been a close friend of Catherine's for 11 years now. We met in 7th grade, and I still remember how we became friends. She came up to me at lunch, told me that I was sitting with a bunch of snobby girls, and that I should be friends with her instead. Every day she persisted that I sit with her. One day, just to shut her up (unbeliveably, she talks more than I do- part of why I love her to death) I sat with her. I was hooked, and we have been the best of friends ever since.

I am touched that she still has that makeup bag, and that she uses it! Catherine is my oldest friend. As a "retail" brat, my family moved around a lot, and she is one of the only people that I can tell stories about. . . like the time we tied sheets together to sneak out of my second floor bedroom in high school. We took for sale signs out of yards, and put them in the yards of people we didn't like. Haha- your home is for sale!

Cat is at the beach right now, and my only entertainment consists of choices such as the internet, cable, and vodka. I'm currently taking advantage of all three, trying to get some sleep before I head to the law office.

Catherine's dad got me the job at the law office, and I love it. The attorneys I work with are amazing. Tommy, the namesake of the firm, has such high morals. He has such a great personality and character, and everyone in this town knows and adores him. He gave me my own big, golden painted office, with a large wooden desk, file cabniets, bookshelves, a desktop computer, and a leather chair, as well as two red clothed wooden chairs for people to sit in. He asked me today what I wanted to do for him, so that he can give me the experience I want to have. He is a wonderful person, and I feel blessed to have such a good mentor.

Tommy took me and April (the most important person in our firm, the paralegal) out for lunch. April is brillant! Every time I had an idea, while skimming through files, I ran it by her to get her advice and opinion. She humored me, tossing ideas around with me, which I appreciated so much. She also was my company throughout the day, and I kept leaving my office to sit with her because it was sooo quiet (Phil and Tommy had court/ dentist appts). I would be stranded without her.

Anyway, we went for chinese, and my fortune cookie said "Continue this conversation and you will learn." Interesting fortune for the summer associate to get while out with the firm.

After lunch, Tommy went to court and I looked around the rest of the office. There are professional court room sketches hanging on the walls of Tommy when he prosecuted Susan Smith. It is so awesome to hear him tell the story. He is so down to earth when he tells it, but basically when they told him there would be cameras in the courtroom it didn't phase him, because he knew why he was there (to do justice for those little kids).

My favortie thing about Tommy is that he is down to earth, and treats everyone the same (with lots of respect).

I'm certainly loving my j0bs, yet missing my roomate. Maybe after another martini I'll get some rest, and be more than happy to wake up anticipating another day at the law firm!

There is NOTHING like summer!

2007-05-20T19:02:00.000-07:00

I love summer.

Today has been the most amazingly simple, and still most amazing day. Although it may seem humdrum to some people, it was the day that I have been dreaming of since starting the hectic life of being a law student.

Without a legal summer job, my days have been pretty average, consisting of sitting on a couch and watching all the interesting shows on TV. However, although seemingly boring and simple, today was amazing.

I woke up late this morning; I got out of bed around 9:30. After getting out of bed, I had a bowl of Rasin Bran Crunch and a glass of juice. After finishing my late breakfast, I sat on the parlor couch and read. I have been reading Ernest Hemingway's "The Sun Also Rises" for a couple of days now. I spent a few hours reading, and then decided I felt like watching "Sex and the City," particularly the "Secret Sex" episode, and cleaning.

While cleaning my friend Brandon, who just moved to Detroit to begin law school during the summer semester, called me in panic. "What do I need to know . . . reading is taking me soooo long." Practicing my peer mentor skills for next fall semester, I advised him to get a commercial outline and then skim through the cases. I explained "IRAC," and told him the rules were what he really needed to learn for the exam. Then I honestly told him law school sucks, but that if you work hard, you will party even harder at the end of the semester, and it will be fantastic. He thanked me for my advise, and said he loved me. I explained this is the reason law students are so close; only we truly understand the pain of law school.

After getting off the phone, I remembered that I had a seminar for swim lessons, so I can get my raise, and had to rush off to the office. I showed up 30 minutes late, but luckily, I have good companionship with my boss, and he had no problem with my delay. I am in this training session with one of my best friends from high school, Gwen, and the two of us wrote notes to each other during the boring instructor videos. I had to stay afterwards to review five minutes of an audio video on addressing fears.

After swim practice, I called my friends to see what was going on for Sunday night. Baker was watching a TV show with Jason, his best friend. Andre was having dinner out of town with his parents. Everyone else let their answering machines pick up.

The 30 minute drive home was relaxing. I cranked up my stereo, rolled down the windows, opened the sunroof, and listened to my mixed CD while driving in the warm summer sunset. Pure bliss. I wanted to drive to I-4, and ride through Flordia.

When I got home, I opened a bottle of beer and plugged in my electric guitar. I played "Turn the Page," and "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" for about an hour. Then I put "Sweet Child of Mine" in my CD player and turned it on repeat, while opening a bottle of wine and continued reading "The Sun Also Rises."

To me, days like this are what makes life worthwhile. I had so much time just for me, to do the things I love to do. Today had cumulated into doing what I love to do best; here I sit, still listening to "Sweet Child of Mine" on repeat, as Ernest Hemingway states in "The Sun Also Rises," I am "a little drunk. Not drunk in any positive sense but just enough to be careless," and I am doing one of my favorite things in the world- writing.

So now I make my way back to another glass of wine, and reopen my book. Ahh, there is nothing like summer.

Something old, something renewed.

2007-04-28T21:48:00.000-07:00

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.

To be a Virginian . . .

2007-04-16T21:55:00.000-07:00

"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.

CAVEAT: THIS BLOG SUCKS . . .but at least I laughed!!!

2007-04-05T12:43:00.000-07:00

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.

Pictures

2007-03-26T21:59:00.000-07:00

Here are Grandma Anne and Grandpa John. (With Aunt Cathy at our house, and Uncle Felix at their house.)

Grandma and Grandpa Falkiewicz

2007-03-26T20:50:00.000-07:00

Right now I'm sitting in my room, looking at a mirror that is sitting on my dresser, and realizing that something is out of place. The mirror is framed on the sides and bottom with small wooden drawers. On the top there is a shelf. My Grandpa John made this mirror, and, for as long as I can remember, it had hung in the dining room of their Norfolk home of some 50+ years, on a wall filled with pictures of their grandchildren, and directly below a large baby picture of me.

Within the last seven months, my grandparents on my mother's side have both passed away. My Grandma Anne died at age 90, in the end of August after being ill with alzheimers for eight years. Last Wednesday, just one day after his 95th birthday, my grandfather peacefully passed away. These two have set the bar high for my life expectancy! More than anything, I loved and was proud of my grandparents. This blog is in their memory.

Grandma Anne was a sweet, humble, and religious woman. As a faithful Catholic, she would attend daily mass. Some of my favorite memories were going to mass with her, and having everyone approach us after service to say hello. On more than one occasion, priests and bishops would confuse her for a nun (since after Vatican II, habits were not required, and since my granmother always was at church wearing her simple wooden cross on a leather lanyard.) She loved God, and always was excited to go on her "journey" with the Lord. Years before she died, she would tell us all to "rejoice" when we got the phone call that she had passed.

I have so many memories with my Grandmother. When my brother and I were younger, she would take us on scavenger hunts around her neighborhood to look for treasures like cicada shells and buttercups. She would take us to Lakewood Park to play in the big, cement, painted tunnels, watching us climb through them and helping us climb over them. She would make cookies, and put them in the freezer so they would be cold when we would eat them. She put diced grapes in her salads, and topped them with Italain dressing, served with a side of her homemade biscuits. She played Sorry and Boggle with us. Even when she had lost most of her memory of who we all were (with the odd exception being that she never forgot my brother, who is the youngest of her eight grandchildren by 15 years), she still maintained her light-hearted character, and flirty/ goofy personality.

My grandma loved going to the zoo with us. We would always go watch the animals, and her favorites were always the monkeys. She would say "look at them putting on a little show for me," and tell them they were cute. She also loved to go out for icecream, and always got vanilla with strawberries, wet nuts and whipped cream. She was very social, and loved going anywhere. Her best times were always spent at family get togethers, and I can't blame her because we are a fun crowd!

On one of our trips to Williamsburg, as my mother, aunt, grandmother, and cousin were sitting down to lunch, my grandma told us the story of how she knew she was supposed to be with my grandfather. She met him in New York city, and they had later attended a dance together. While they were dancing, she looked up in the corner of the room, and she saw an angel. Truly, they were a match made in heaven, and were together for 67 years until my grandmother passed away.

I have heard of people dying from a broken heart after their spouse passes away. My grandfather was too stubborn not to make it to his 95th birthday first. My grandfather was a caregiver until the day he died. He took care of my grandmother through her illness. He called my mother every night at 8pm, after she was diagnosed with cancer, to see how she and the family were doing, and would always say "Give Lucky (my dog) a pat on the head for me," and laugh. When he was 82 years old (maybe not so shocking if you knew he drove until he was 93), he drove from Norfolk, VA to Valdosta, GA to come see and help take care of me when I was diagnosed with juvenille diabetes.

He always gave great advice. Brush your teeth if you want to curb your sweet tooth- the clean feeling fights hunger. Become a pro-tennis player; those guys make a lot of money to have fun. Here is $2.00, don't spend it all in one place.

The last time I saw him he told me to run for US Senate, and started talking VA politics with me. He thought the best path for my law schooling was politics. At Christmas we bought him a USC law golf shirt, and he was always telling stories about how people would ask him about it, and that he would brag about his granddaughter. He even told me he tried to recruit a young man to go to law school at a Christmas party. He was so proud of me. When he had visitors he would point to my baby picture and tell them "See that baby? That's my granddaughter. Guess what? That baby is in law school now!"

As retired Navy, he would tell us war stories, take us to the commisary to shop, and to the naval airport (with earphones) to watch the planes take off. He would send us care-packages with all kinds of goodies (candy, stuffed animals, etc), since (for all but 5 years) my family lived out of Virginia. He would take us to Azalea Gardens to look at the flowers and ride the boats, to the cafeteria to grab a sandwich, or just about anywhere since my grandmother never had her driver's license. When his vision became bad, he told us that he would put his thumbs up on the steering wheel and line them up with the lines of the road so he knew he was staying on the road (another thing the man loved to give was driving advice!!)

He also had the BEST stories ever.

- He was concieved in Poland, and born in Detroit. His parents, decending from Lithuanian dukes and dutchesses, moved to America and had to leave his sister, who was two years old and had chicken pox so could not board the boat, in the old country. Although my grandfather corresponded with his sister, he never met her, but met her children who would come visit.

- He was a golf caddy for Babe Ruth! Also, some of the golfers he caddied for would light their cigars, mind you DURING THE DEPRESSION, with $20 bills.

- He remembered seeing firetrucks pulled by HORSES in Detroit (the city where automobiles were born!)

-When he was 16 he lied about his age and joined the navy. In his 30s, he fought in WWII, stationed as a sub-chaser. He went AWOL, and was put in jail when they found him at one point. He recieved an honorable discharge, and at his funeral had the navy do a gun salute, play taps, and thank us, from the President, for his service. Just like my grandmother wanted us all to be nuns and priests, he always wanted his kids/ grandkids to join the navy.

This memory is the most appropriate to end on. Every time we would leave their Norfolk home to drive back to where our family was living at the time, my grandparents would stand on the doorstep and wave goodbye, until we were out of sight. I can still see them, on the top of the red steps, standing behind the glass door. My grandfather's arm around my grandmother, and both of them smiling and waving, waving, waving.

I could write a book on the two of them. The best advice I got from both of them was how to live a healthy lifestyle. To be physically healthy; Eat small healthy meals and exercise. To be spiritually healthy; Go to church and love and help others.

God bless Grandma Anne and Grandpa John. I still thank Him everyday for making me fortunate to have them as my grandparents, and for all the time He gave me with them.

The Buds of March

2007-03-16T16:34:00.000-07:00

While spring cleaning today, I found some poems that I wrote in college. After reading them, I decided that I would post some in my blog.

The first poem is one of my favorites. I wrote this while waiting for my Southern Literature class to begin. It was the begining of March in my Junior year of college, and my class meet on the fourth floor of the Humanities building. Glaring out the window in a fit of boredom, I realized that one of the tall trees in the beautifully landscaped gardens surrounding the building, had little white and green buds grown from the limbs. Since winter is my least favorite season, the first signs of spring make me excited. Also, remember that this poem was written when daylight savings time began in April, so the days during March were still relatively short. Combining my love of learning with my love for spring, I wrote this poem.

The Buds Of March

What right have the buds of March
to hold so high a seat?
April has not soothed their parch
and absent is May's heat.

These tiny buds may quickly fall
by Mother Nature's breath!
Swept off their limbs on trees so tall
to meet with ground their death.

A psuedoconfidence they hold;
they have such short daylight.
Never will they be flowers bold,
for plants don't grow at night.

Ignorance is all that March can give,
for buds need more than trees to live.

Highlights: Death on Appeal

2007-03-12T21:12:00.000-07:00

A little over a week ago I went to see Frederick Evins' death penalty appealed in the SC Supreme Ct. After hearing the argument and talking to my teacher and classmates, I'm pretty sure the judges will affirm.

On Thursday morning I woke up early, since I had never been to the Supreme Court and only had a little idea of where I was headed. Fighting traffic into the city, I finally found my way down Gervais street and saw the small, sqaure court house sitting on the corner of Sumter street. It is a smooth beige building, with four flags flying on the shallow front lawn.

As I walked inside, the notoriously mean security guard approached me. "Put your purse on the tray and walk through." After following his directions, I signed my name and asked him if he minded if I sat down at the round wooden table in the lobby while waiting on my classmates. He said that was fine. Then he asked me why I had come, and I told him that I was there to watch the appellate argument. "Young lady," he spat out in a rough and important voice, "this is the Supreme Court." Quickly realizing he had no clue what an appellate argument is, I replied "I know, I am here to see the death penalty on appeal." He then understood my reason, and showed me the doors I would enter.

I sat down at the wooden table and looked around the room. The table was a beautiful design; it held many different types and stains of wood, cut and laid flesh against the next in an ornate arrangement. The floors were white marble, and on top of them was a white rug with a blue border and yellow flowers. There were large frames with lights above them holding paintings of Chief Justices; except for a black male Chief Justice whose piece stood out, all of the portraits were of white, elderly men . There was a dark stained wooden bench beside the double entrance doors in the middle of the room. The walls were covered in a light blue woven cloth, which had the SC Justice symbol embroidered in gold on it (which I later found out was designed and specially made for the Supreme Court). The only thing that clashed with the design was the security metal detector and large plastic baggage x-ray machine, which stood on wheels beside the doors.

Trying to be friendly, I told the man that the building was beautiful and that this was my first visit. He really opened up, and started telling me how the building was once the old post office, and he got excited when, like a kid with a fanciful secret, he told me about how some of the back rooms still resembled a post office. Soon after I had made friends with the notoriously mean security officer, my friends walked in, and he gave them a hard time. He even made one of my classmates go through extra security measures.

Once everyone passed the security check, and spent some time chatting in the lobby about Sex and the City (for some reason, only the girls in my class showed up), we all assembled in the court room. In a short period of time, our legal writing professor showed up, and other people began to filter in. Eventually, from the back of the room, and elderly black man wearing a navy blue suit and matching rimmed hat, who cheerily had greeted us as we entered, stood up and announced "Here ye, here ye. All rise."

As we all stood up, the judges entered the room in order of their authority, and each took a seat in one of the large black leather overstuffed chairs, which sit behind the long, dark stained, wooden bench. The walls in the room are painted dark, and even with the lights, the room has a shadowy but important feeling. The petitioner was not present, but his one attorney sat alone at one of the desks in front of the bench. He began the argument.

The petitioner's counsel seemed to be grasping at air to save his client's life. Some of his arguments made no sense, and began to annoy the Chief Justice. At first I imagined the petitioner, sitting in prison full of hope that his attorney was, at that moment, saving him from a death sentence. I am opposed to the death penatly, but even after hearing the petitioner's attorney give his argument, I began to feel that for this case, the death penalty was not too unjust.

The more details of the case that were revealed in the argument (so disturbing I will not repeat), the more monsterous the creature inside the cage seemed. The point where I lost all sympathy for the murderer was when the attorneys and judges began graphically depicting the crime scene, and the pictures that were taken at it. I had two distinct reactions to the graphic details. First, during the initial descriptions, I began to have a shortness of breath and started to panic, the classic symptoms of an anxiety attack. After I calmed myself down, and started to listen to the discussion again, the morbid report of the crime scene made me think of the victim, and I had to divert my attention at times to keep myself from crying.

While that part of the argument was the most intense, the rest of the argument, mainly dealing with jury selection, had me half-asleep.

At the end of the argument we all gathered in the lobby to discuss what we had just witnessed. The first question my classmate asked my teacher was "What do you think the judges will do?" Our professor looked at us, still smiling, and clearly let us know "They'll most likely affirm."

After witnessing this case, I think I'll stay away from criminal law and stick to real-estate.

The Grass is Always Browner . . .

2007-03-07T19:42:00.000-08:00

People have always commented that I'm a very optimistic person. I've been asked on more than one occasion why I'm so happy all the time, and tonight I have found their answer; I've always realized that even if my life seems tough at the moment, someone else is always worse off, and I have always felt blessed that I'm not that guy.
Tonight the Law School Gunners had our first soccer match. All day long our team appointed coach had been telling me I needed to step it up tonight. "Clark, game on; don't screw it up, this is our hardest match of the season." All day I had been mentally preparing. Our opponents, the Knights, are an undefeated team. They have scored heavily on the teams they have played for the last two weeks. We knew our opponent, and Coach wanted us to win.
I showed up at the soccer field one hour early. Our team warmed up, chatted, and played with Chief, our goalie's adorable new puppy (and our little barking cheerleader from the sidelines). We streched, frightfully commented on how beastly the other team's girls looked, and sent our starters out onto the field. After we scored the first goal, it was basically a head to head (actually, head to ball is more appropriate) game until the end. I didn't start the game, but after 15 minutes I subbed in. I kicked and got kicked. I tripped and got tripped. I took the ball and had the ball taken from me. I cheered for my teammates and they cheered for me. I watched our team score and I watched thier team score . . . and score . . . . and score. The final score was 4-2, Knights.
After the game we complimented the other team on their win, and high fived each other. The Gunners sat in a group, somewhat quietly, peeling off our shin guards and cleats. I broke the silence with my usual optimistic discourse.

Me: "You guys, that was a tough team and we did better against them than any other team has
so far. We played really well, good job!"

Coach: "Clark, there's no pep talks in soccer."

Me: "Yes there is. You did well too."

Coach: "Okay, you want a pep talk? Win next time. There."

Coach makes me laugh when we argue. This could be a problem since we are partnered up for our oral moot argument in the supreme court this semester. Me v Coach- funny, dry, pessimistic coach.
The thought of me arguing against Coach gets me thinking of my legal writing class' field trip tomorrow. This field trip is the perfect contrast to what, as Coach thinks, seems bad as opposed to someone whose life actually is bad. At 9am we will all be in the supreme court hearing an appellate argument over a death penalty.
Fredrick Evins was convicted of the abduction, rape and brutal stabbing murder of a convinence store clerk. He used the money he took from her store to go on a drug binge. He is also on trial for another similar murder. He was sentenced to death, with the execution date set for Jan 19th. The appeals process may save him, or it may prolong his deah for a few years.
Here are three tragedic examples of how losing a soccer game isn't the end of the world. Fredrick, or his two victims, would give anything right now to have just lost a soccer game. Watching this argument tomorrow, I may feel as if I would give anything to have just lost a soccer game.
This death penalty case will be heart-wrenching; it will be worse for me if the defendant (petitioner) is present. I keep imagining how I will feel sitting in a room with someone who did such horrible, despicable things to two innocent people. There is a sickening power that this man has that I don't understand; I felt bad enough accidently kicking one of the Knights in the shin guard, so I can't imagine ever stabbing someone. Beyond what he did, the knowledge that this man is facing the end of his existence, and is sitting before me hanging on to the last hope of living, and that life being nothing more than a mere dismal life in prison, is overwhelming.
In the next two days I will write a blog on how it actually felt. For now, please take this lesson; no matter how many soccer games you may lose, no matter how tough it gets at the end of the semester when you have spent a month sitting in a room alone and studying for finals, no matter how bad you feel when you have caught the flu going around school again- there is always someone- whether its a person whose life is on trial, or a person who has lost their family member to a brutal crime- who would love to be you, experiencing what you find to be your terrible moment.

Music and Memories

2007-03-05T18:54:00.000-08:00

As I sit here listening to the radio to make studying Con Law more enjoyable, I can't help but wonder if I have an abnormal passion for music.
At the age of 5 I remember my first musically inspired motivational rushes, which would physically move my mid-afternoon exhausted body despite my brain's objections. At this age I started swimming competitively, a recreational sport that I would continue to compete in for 12 years, and still at times use the same motivational song- "Rush, Rush" by Paula Abdoul (secretly one of my favorite artists and my also one of my current motivations for watching American Idol). Although I didn't like feeling the ice-cold water stinging my skin as I took that first plunge into the pool, I did enjoy the light-rock music blasting in the background, which I could hear everytime I would bring my head up for air.
Paula was frequently played in the background. On this particular day, I can remember laying in the middle of the play room floor, playing with weebles and refusing to go to swim practice. My mother finally left me alone, and within five minutes of turning on my Paula Abdoul cassette (Rush, Rush was the second song on the track) I was downstairs begging my dad to take me to practice. He asked me what changed my mind, and I knew it was the song. As soon as I heard the lyrics "you're a whisper of a summer breeze" coming through the speaker, I imagined hearing those lyrics as my body would glide through the smooth cool water doing the breast-stroke, and I would lift my head up at swim practice; I wanted that feeling.
For me, music's importance lies in my strong attachment between music and memories.
* Alan Jackson's "Tall, Tall Trees" reminds me of rollerblading in my garage in elementary school, when we lived in Lake Park, GA, escaping the deep south heat and listening to the only genre of music offered in the area.
* Alanis Morrisette's "Forgiven" reminds me of seventh grade, living in Rock Hill, when I would dance and lipsync in the mirror in my catholic school uniform after class, belting out "you know how us catholic girls can be."
* Nelly's "Ride Wit Me" reminds me of polevaulting in high school; the lyrics "Now that I'm a fly guy, and I fly high (while I was literally flying high)" would pass through my head as I ran quickly toward the metal pit, griping the flimsy pole firmly in my fists.
* Creed's "Higher," reminds me of going to Neil, Kevin and Brian's house and playing two on two, man on man defense basketball until the orange early summer afternoon sky (which would turn the water in the pond gold, thus represented by the lyrics "to a place with golden streams") faded to black- and then believing that the dark sky actually improved our skills.
* Train's "Drops of Jupiter" reminds me of my junior year of high school, when I would drive around in my car and cry about having to move my senior year of high school, singing in my car (another secret habit) "Can you imagine no love, pride, deep-fried chicken? Your best friend always sticking up for you, even when I know youre wrong? Can you imagine no first dance, freeze dried romance five-hour phone Conversation?The best soy latte that you ever had . . . and me," and thinking about those same memories (my best friend, middle school dances, five hour conversations) that I had with the people I was about to be leaving.
* Dispatch "The General," reminds me of a feeling of the summer of my sophomore year; since Blake would frequently rock that out on his guitar while Nick played the Jambae- the pinnacle feeling occuring with all of us on Nick's boat in Lake Wylie. We all took the boat out, and Jason's jet ski, and drank beer and chilled on the boat, island or lake house all day long. We eventually took the boat to T-Bonz, where there was a dock to park boats and a dock to eat on; it was an opportunity to get off the lake. We all ate, drank, and danced in the warm afternoon with the cool breeze blowing off the water. I can still remember the difficulty imposed on our drunk boaters by the no wake zone as we left the restaurant, and the blissful feeling in all of us as we navigated our way back at the end of the day. This, along with all the "boat Thursday" memories with Gabes and his friends are the reason I have vowed to grow up and buy a boat and throw weekly summer parties for my college buddies.
* Most appropriately for the moment, The Fray's "How To Save A Life" reminds me of studying for law school finals in December, stuck in a room alone for a month. Although the time was tedious, and the lyrics in my head repeated "right between the lines of fear and blame you begin to wonder why you came,"now the song evokes feelings of survival and accomplishment.

Regardless of genre, time, place, or person, music has always been powerful force in my life.

My Statement

2006-11-20T12:41:00.000-08:00

Dead asleep, I woke up to the sharp sound of the doorbell. I rubbed my eyes, then propped up on one arm to look at the time. It's 3:23, but what day is it?

Slightly disoriented from sleep, and still wondering if I was really tired enough to sleep through an entire day, I peeled myself off the couch to answer the door.

My neighbor's daughter was in the doorstep holding a puppy. Hello Charlotte*. Charlotte and I are both the same age; I am just a few months her senior. Her mother lives across the street, and when she visits she always stops by to say hello, usually with some envious news, like "I'm getting married," or "I'm having a baby girl!" While she is married with a beautiful daughter, I am single and working towards a professional career. And now she has a puppy, Sparks*.

When I hang out with Charlotte, I think about Miller*, a guy friend who gave me his opinion on women in professional careers. He thought law school was a bad idea because I would never have time to raise a family, and raising kids makes women happy. I am glad that I am friends with the male expert on my sex.

However, this advice had a particular meaning today. When Charlotte commented on how sleepy I looked, I stopped my normal complaining routine, immidiately noticing that she looked exhausted. I substituted "I have so much going on right now with exams," for "How is the baby; is she getting bigger?"

Apparently the baby is getting bigger, and harder to keep up with. Charlotte is tired, and she just found out she is expecting again. After looking as if this was much to handle, she just said, "Why not have all my kids while I'm still young?"

Nevertheless, she is happy and I am happy for her. Despite her happiness, Miller's statement still rings untrue to me. I am happy too, and I don't have kids.

Here is the truth. Women are tired because they raise kids, just like women are tired because they are nurturing a career. People have different ways of life, yet are all happy in their different ways. For example, while Charlotte found solace in having all of her kids at a young age, I found that hard to comprehend.

For the career woman who does not find Miller or Charlotte's statements practical, the following is my statement: Women are happy because they have careers (*2); why not establish a career and then have kids?

Footnote 1. The * symbol indicates I have omitted the actual name and replaced it.

Footnote 2, (*2). Unlike Miller's statement, studies in the psychology of women support the claim that women with careers are actually happier than housewives. Women who have professional careers reported less depression in old age because they felt a greater sense of accomplishment during their lives. However, housewives are more likely to be depressed in old age and have reported wishing they had a career while they were young. http://womensmedia.com/lunchtalk/2006/08/16/

In the Intrest of Time.

2006-11-18T07:53:00.000-08:00

I love writing. There is nothing like holding a cup of black coffee between your hands, sitting back in front of a key board, and thinking for a few hours. Unfortunately, the first year law student does not have the luxury ingredient that this pleasure requires; law students, like many people, do not have time.

Short on time, my extracurricular reading consists of pages from books like "365 ways to RELAX: mind, body and soul," which are filled with very short stories, quotes, and ideas, perfect for the person on the go.

Needing a break from studying law, I held this book between my hands and ran my thumb through the opening, like a kid with a flip book. Finally, I stopped on a page and read:

" 'Anything worth doing is worth doing slowly.' -Colin Fletcher."

Thanks, Mr. Fletcher. As a professional backpacker who wrote what Field and Stream considers "the bible of backpacking guides," your philosophy must go without saying.

My first thought is how inapplicable this is to the average person. Many people would love to do things slowly, and would if not for time constraints. I would love to study slowly, but unfortunately this stategy does not mesh with my desire to pursue the law profession.

However, a second though regarding Mr.Fletcher occurrs to me. Like my torts professor, The David Owen, who wrote what we call "the bible of torts," Mr. Fletcher wrote what Field and Stream calls "the bible of backpacking guides." While both men are successful in their professions and do what they love to do, Mr. Fletcher has the fortune of time. Lucky guy.

In some way staying busy is better. I can imagine taking too much free time for granted. I enjoy all the time I have. I do what I love by going to school, and in my free time I do what I love outside of school. Not a moment is wasted.

So concludes my interest of time. Time to trade in my "flip book" for my law books.

Today's Posts: A Compilation

2006-11-13T10:46:00.000-08:00

Before deciding to create a real blog, I would occasionaly post on myspace. My friend picked out her favorites from that compilation, and here they are; from the past its my Favorite Blogs.

How Sex and the City is possible.

2006-11-13T10:45:00.000-08:00

As I'm watching HBO's Sex And The City, I can't help but wonder, how does Carrie juggle a busy social life, 3 best friends, a boyfriend and career? I can hardly juggle two of these (social life and career/ friends and social life), how does the TV show make it possible for this power woman to have it all? Unfortunately, I didn't like the answer. Carrie is a busy woman on the show. However, the show focuses mainly on her friends, and social life as she squeezes in time for her boyfriend. That is fine with me, having a lot of fun with friends and going to amazing clubs with only nights and weekends with a great guy. What bothers me is the lack of focus on the career of this main character. We see more about her shoe fetish than her journalism career. While Sex And The City is a groundbreaking television program that portrays women's sexuality, intellegence, and independence, it still lacks portraying the careers of women. Even Miranda, who is a lawyer, spends more time taking care of a baby on the show than she does in the office. I just wish that it could show that some women find careers more important that a social life, caregiving, boyfriends or shoes.

Meet A Good Guy, TOMMOROW

2006-11-13T10:42:00.001-08:00

Thats it. I've had it with all of my single friends complaining about being single.
They go to bars to meet people. Those they meet show no genuine interest, and even if they do it is only time before they turn out to be a bum or just no good. Frequently, many of my friends have been waking up next to someone without any memory of the night before. One exception is my friend who managed to remember that the guy that she went home with threw up all night.
Luckily I have thought up a solution for all their dating problems. Instead of going out at night, try waking up before noon to find someone. Here are my top 3 reasons to look for "the one" before it gets dark:
1. They are more likely to be sober. (Solving most of the throwing up and forgetting you problems.)
2. They are more likely to have a job. (Hence, they are up early for work, instead of irresponsibly up late at night because they don't work a 9-5).
3. They are more likely to not think of you as just a booty call. (This is due to the fact that most people don't go out during the day looking to get laid).
Yes, I do know that bars are usually pretty empty during the day. Instead, try going to a coffee or sandwich cafe. Be creative, be yourself! Please, just don't be drunk and desperate anymore!

Instant Mashed Potatoes

2006-11-13T10:38:00.001-08:00

I've figured out the problem. . . Instant Mashed Potatoes.
Most women expect men to be like instant mashed potatoes. They go out and find a bunch of cheesey flakes. They hope that when they heat them up, they'll turn into just what they were craving.
If you have ever tried instant mashed potatoes, you already know the unfortunate ending to this analogy- they never turn out to be what you were really hungry for.

Why Blog?

2006-11-12T11:33:00.000-08:00

Every blogger has their own personal reason to blog. Some use blogs as a diary, so they may look back and remember what they have done with their lives. Others use blogs as a means of keeping in touch with distant family and friends. Some just want people to see what they have to say. Some want to inspire and help others through their writing.
Of course, all of the aforesaid reasons play some role in my purpose for starting this blog. However, I am most inspired by something my English professor told me in college. After class, while talking to my most respected professor, I asked his opinion on why certain writers stand out throughout every generation, while others just fade into history. The difference, he said, was that the great writers wrote out of a strong passion, and an overwhelming desire. Great writers are compelled to write, they must write, and without it they cannot function. Every moment in the day of a great writer is hectic, and comprised of their brain brimming with thoughts until they allow those thoughts to flow onto a page, regardless of whether the world will see it.
That passion is what drives me to write this blog.