Legal Mystenigmary

Urgh

It's 7:30am and it looks like midnight and it's pouring rain and I AM THE ONLY PERSON IN THE OFFICE! I am cranky. (Although, I just discovered that the delightful, wanna-be-her-when-I-grow-up Blonde Justice linked to me -- whee! two links -- goodness, I'm all aflutter! this has improved the mental state -- but only when I don't think about work. When I think about work, or click over to Word to write this damn brief that I'm starting to believe is never going to be written because it's impossible, I want to throw myself on the floor in a terrible-twos tantrum. It's awful. I'm going to let down SCP for the first time in ...well, since he started to think that I might not suck at this. damn. But see, I can't figure out a way of this seemingly irresolvable set of standards: The rules say a motion to dismiss for failure to state a claim is made on the pleadings only with all favorable inferences to plaintiff (Which we are not, thank god), but that if a movant relies on material outside the pleadings, it automatically becomes a motion for summary judgment. OK, fine. So, where a lis pendens has been filed in an action arising out of a written instrument signed by the party to be charged, you (the defendant) can only get it discharged if you show that the motion to dismiss or summary judgment would be granted dismissing at least the equitable claims of the Complaint. There's also a case that says when you can't demand specific performance because there is no contract, then the lis pendens has to be discharged. We want to have the lis pendens discharged. There is no valid contract. I want to just say "Hey, Case is parallel and Court, you just do that, ok?" But that means ignoring the very complex irrelation of the statute and case law concerning the motion to dismiss/SJ/lis pendens standards. Which, in my mind, considering this is due at the end of the day and I have a monster set of depositions at 9:30, is a good thing. But is it intellectually dishonest or lazy? Or just plain old lazy? And if I decide to jump into the thicket of standards and lay them all out before the court, a) how should that be organized so that it's advocating and not just explicating, and b) is it maybe better in this instance to explicate, since the law is so clearly on our side (except for the motion to dismiss thing... that standard sucks. I mean, not in general, but in my case, I don't like it. I want it to be something like "If the plaintiff pisses you off with repeatedly ridiculous demands, and has acted like a child in the short course of the litigation so far, his complaint should be dismissed with prejudice." None of this indulgent "Oh, poor baby plaintiff, you can keep your complaint as long as, somehow, somewhere, a smarter person that you could have alleged an actual cause of action based on these facts that we think we can infer from the crayon-covered construction paper you submitted" crap. Hmph.)

Hmmm. I wonder if I can submit this posting to SCP as proof that I really did try to not suck at this brief. Yeah, great idea -- let's tell the partners that I lose .6 billable hours every other day so I can babble on a blog. Brilliant.

Before I actually get back to work (ugh), may I just mention that it's 7:45am and there is STILL no one here?? Did I miss something? Is work closed due to depressing weather? Or am I in some kind of sci-fi movie, where the Firm no longer exists and I'm the sole employee who doesn't know about it and then the wormpeople come and demand I do endless hours of document review for them as they prepare to write their answer to "Watership Down"? WHERE IS EVERYONE?

Mo' Money, Mo' Problems

So, I'm sitting peacefully in my office not ten minutes ago, contemplating why exactly it was that I felt it was perfectly OK to forget everything I'd ever learned in Property (which, honestly, wasn't much anyway) five minutes after the exam, when the nice little cleaning man came by. He's always been very polite and we usually chat a little. So we go through the usual "hey, sucks to be working on a saturday, doesn't it, how's your family, bla bla" and then, out of the blue, he says "Can I say something off the record?" Um, well, it's America, say whatever you want. And he goes on to explain how he knows that Large Organization where he used to work pays its lawyers over $100K a year "just for walking up and down the hall with a cup of coffee." (Sidenote: it infuriates me when people make assumptions like that -- law is complex, complicated and intellectually challenging and if you're practicing it with any kind of diligence, you need coffee breaks and vacation breaks, otherwise you might break.) Then he tells me that I should really think about working for them, because the money's better and you have grab opportunity when it's presented, and by the way, did I know that Gigundo Regional Firm had a big ad in the paper today looking for a lawyer they want to pay $150K/year to, and why don't I go there? Because there's no reason a "young person such as [my]self" should be here, where all the partners are "old" and could decided to just "up and leave," and then where would I be, and why don't I want to make more money?

It is a bad bad sign when even the cleaning people think you're underpaid. On the other hand, I'm annoyed -- a) I hate it when people bash things I care about, and I think it's mightily rude -- just because they're my employers doesn't mean that this is that stupid "Office Space" movie and I hate them... b) anyone who's read almost any of my recent posts knows that, money be damned, I'd rather be treated like a human being. (Then again -- how virtous we can be when the chance doesn't present itself otherwise...)

I'm so cranky I have to go get more coffee -- is nine espresso shots on a non-weekday bad?

I Only Left the Office for Ten Hours Last Night

NOTICE: To whomever found my blog by yahoo-searching "deposition how to drive opposing counsel crazy" -- I love you. Have my babies please. I'll even forgive you for not knowing that the cool kids use google....

Billable Schmillable

It's Tuesday at 5:45 pm. Having had the opportunity (theoretical, granted, but it was there) to have billed at least 20 hours so far this week, I have instead billed... 5. Five hours. I could maybe stretch it to six if I document every single letter that I mentioned to my secretary and she subsequently typed up (silly things like "Enclosed please find the signed Warrant to Satisfy"... bla bla -- but still -- that's at least a .1, right? I mean, I had to think about the file, remember its name, realize that it needed a warrant, walk over to my secretary's desk and tell her about the letter, and then review the letter for mistakes and then sign it ...that's TOTALLY six minutes!).

So the real question is -- how soon is it before they start taking iTunes off computers in the workplace?

The second question is -- exactly how bad is it to bill three hours a day??? granted, my firm has no billable hour minimum (at least not that I've ever been told about, but then again, I was never told about sick days and they exist, so...) However, I live in fear that at their super-secret-special-people meetings (I don't react well to being excluded for any reason), they bring all the associate billing sheets and scrutinize whether we're worth keeping or if we should be thrown to the wolves... I should really bring work home. But I am having a research-heavy week, which means two things: 1) I do actually spend a good six hours a day reading cases, statutes, a really old edition of Prosser (why did no one ever tell me that it's actually really funny? He mentions that this certain opinion by some state's Supreme Court has "never been regarded as making any sort of sense" -- hee!), etc., but feel ridiculous billing a total of 13 or 14 hours for just the research, not even the writing part of an assignment, and end up refusing to bill more than 3 hours a day on research (so, yeah, this whole rant is my own fault, hush!) and 2) I am so exhausted by the time I get home from slogging through complex analyses of coverage exclusions (which, don't get me wrong, I really am interested by, but there's only so many times you can pick apart the phrase "where benefit inures to the insured as defined by section a. and b. of that definition" before you want to start wailing).

Ah, Sweet Mysteries of Life

• Someone found my blog by searching for "Cirque de Soliel" + "Floor plan." So many questions come to mind.
• He-Who-Is-Most-Irksome. That's all. Just He, himself.
• Why, even though I know and opposing counsel accepts that the case is not going to settle, I still have to wake up at a time nastily close to dawn, drag myself to court in Terrifying Inner City, park my car for $8 so it's still there when I come back, walk into the judge's chambers, say "we're not settling, and this is the trial date," and then leave. Phones have been invented, people! Use them!
• How it is that I can eat an entire box of melba crackers and half a block of cheese in one sitting, and still be hungry in ten minutes, but when I take the trouble to cook a whole entire meal, I have three bites and I'm full?
• Why I had a very vivid dream, which featured both the sin and the consequence? That never happens. Dreaming the sin, sure. But dreaming the whole playout as if it was real? Terrifying. But maybe good? Maybe a little forewarning? Or a sign I shouldn't drink wine right before I go to bed?
• And finally, how did they get the iPod nano so small? I got one yesterday and I still am unable to stop looking at it. It's so tiny!! I don't understand.

Thoughts on a Deposition

Today I conducted the deposition of a very sweet 19-year-old plaintiff who nearly died in a horrific car accident ( seriously. until I saw the photographs of this accident, I didn't think that phrase "wrapped his car around a tree" actually meant that a vehicle was capable of bending itself into a circle practically around a tree. awful.) It was highly unpleasant. Not because she was so unpleasant, herself. Actually, I didn't hate her -- which is saying something, because the hatred of plaintiffs is, I suppose, in the blood of defense lawyers. I felt really badly for her, and if I had just met her in a social situation, we would have had a lovely conversation, and I would have been blown away by the recovery she made, by her attitude, by how bravely she seemed to have handled the incredible misfortune that resulted from taking a ride in the car of a hot senior boy. But, since I wasn't in a social situation, I had to pick apart everything -- basically, I had to be blunt and suspicious and question the motives and actions of someone who had to struggle for three years just to put her life back together. Basically, I was making her life harder, I was trying to make her think she was being histrionic. It was appalling.

Generally, I don't feel too badly about what I do, since it's pretty rare that there's a face attached to the case I'm working on for me. But this time -- I don't know.

Sometimes the Grass Isn't Any Greener

Because the Firm is a fairly "medium-small" close-knit place, we often get visits from past employees who have since become mommies and want to bring their offspring by to show off (I'm not being bigoted; we've never gotten a visit from a new daddy). Typically, the offspring in question are infants and they're carried from office to office while mommy reminsces with partners and the support staff about the days when she had actual adult conversations and the most important question of her morning was not "why hasn't Junior-Cutie-Pants pooped today?" but was "What is the effect of Brand-New Precedent on my case in State Supreme Court?" (so, can anyone tell I have no interest in the procreation side of things anytime soon??!)

However. Today we had an ex-support-staffer visit with her twin 2-year-old sons. And their trucks. And their dinosaurs. And their ridiculously overdeveloped lungs. There was yelling and screaming and crowing and crying galore for an HOUR. And of course, mommy made no effort to stop them.

Twenty minutes in, I was furious. This is a law firm for chrissakes, not a nursery -- shouldn't  we have rules about this sort of thing? In defiance, I refused to continue working on Brief-That-Is-A-Pain-In-My-Ass and began blog-reading. I came upon poor Opinionistas' post from today. and even though moments earlier I had been incredibly irritated by the Firm's relaxed atmosphere (and often, am a little sad about the financial compensation, nice as they have been and "never" as I have brought it up to them), I'm so grateful to be here. I've never gotten reamed by a partner for something so inane. And granted, while SSP's redlines and corrections are sometimes a little on the persnickety side, he's aware of the persnicketyness and never berates for my failure to live up to it. My opinions matter; every so often I get the lovely compliment about my written work. It's very much the alternative "training method" suggested by Opinionista -- the praise (while occasionally freaking me out by the setting of the bar higher than the last time) makes me want to make them happier and it also helps me feel that I can do this job, that I have a valuable skill or two.

I'm gushing, aren't I? I guess it's the surprise of it -- during school, what with GPA and law review, my career services people always set me up for OCI interviews with the larger regional and national firms. In second and third year, I must have gone for at least one, and sometimes two, interviews with about thirty of the "top" OCI firms, the ones where your starting salary is $125,000 and you get a brand-new BMW (ick - more on why I'm not a BMW-lover later) as a signing bonus -- and I tanked every. single. one. don't really know why -- I think it had something to do with the fact that I'd never really had proper "interviews" for anything before, and I usually relied on a combination of sweetness, the odd $5-word and the occasional silly comment to charm those in positions of power -- NOT techniques that work particularly well in firm interviews. Therefore, on graduation, I was the only person I know (other than He-Who-Is-Irksome) with the "golden" resume but no golden handcuffs. Woe was me. For months, I beat myself up for being a failure, for getting so close to what I was "supposed" to do but then not actually grabbing the ring when it really counted (and it certainly didn't help that Ex-Boyfriend, with whom I had a shaky friendship at the time, was in total agreement that I'd screwed up).

But, now, I think it was just my guardian angel -- because, while I'm certainly not set to retire at 40 (and, if i don't stop blogging sometime today, I won't be set to retire EVER), I'm happy, I'm surrounded by bright people who I really respect, who aren't sketchy or slimy, who seem to care that I'm happy and who have given me great opportunities to learn and actually practice law. (Granted, it would be nice if I could pick the whole place up and move it to The City, instead of The Sticks, but with the new adorable apartment in the charming town, it's not so bad here.) So, thanks, whoever is up there -- and to those of you making too much money and spending it all on therapy -- look around -- there are certainly places to practice law without sacrificing your humanity, your soul or your sanity.

*cringe*

oh jeez. that's it. I'm turning over control of my "boy" life to someone else, because clearly I am no longer competent.

This, of course, has to do with He Who Is Most Irksome (also discussed here). The brief version of the story I was too rushed to tell yesterday is: we hung out, went to a few bars, had a lovely friendly (*friendly*! no longing glances or accidental footsies -- which by the way is gross anyway!) evening, and came back to my apartment for a little while so he could get untipsy enough to drive home. So we're crashing on the couch/bed (hey, it's a studio, no room for the luxury of more than one place to sit!) chatting about nothing -- and basically, he brings up the "hey, there's tension," kisses me, and we're off the races, ladies and gentlemen! (Remove mind from gutter -- there was no crossing of finish lines). Anyway -- at about 5am, we start chatting again -- which took nearly an hour, but the only relevant thesis was he's "not ready to be in a serious relationship." Oh, the cliche! Oh, the stereotypicality! I took great issue with this statement, based on some past actions and experiences which would take too long to describe, and, while we did eventually amicably get an hour of sleep, it wasn't a very pleasant conversation. Anyway, I felt badly about certain things that I said, but I felt more badly about some things he said. So when he called in the late morning, after he had left and I had gone to work (and come home from work!), it was a very brief "hey, how are you, good, how are you, glad you got home safely, bye" sort of thing. I just didn't know exactly what I wanted to say. Over the course of the next two days, I was torn between acting as if nothing happened or making no effort to continue our friendship or throwing the hurt-feelings fit that my inner 3-year-old really wanted to throw. Last night, after a few too many glasses of wine, I decided to go for the "call him and insist on seeing him so you can talk" approach. Of course, he wasn't home. Of course, I panicked when the answering service picked up and left a boring asinine messages (and I usually pride myself on at least leaving amusing asinine messages but oh well).

And, of course, the minute I hung up, I kicked myself, because of course NOW I realize that the better plan was the "act like nothing happened and try to be cool for once in your damn life!" For the next hour, I lived in a "Friends" episode: making elaborate plots to get to his house, steal the tape, erase the tape, incinerate the tape, etc. I did not, however, do any of those things. So, the message stands, and ever since I woke up this morning, I've had that incredibly irritating almost itch-you-can't-scratch feeling, like you've been slimed and haven't been able to wash it off yet -- WHY DID I LEAVE A MESSAGE?

(Query: Out of curiousity, do boys ever do things like this or is it just the female of the species that gets so nutty over what, really, is fairly small potatoes in the grand scheme of life?)

Too... Many... Topics!!!

I cannot pick. Shall I blog about:

1) the events of this weekend, specifically, those involving this mystenigmary, which caused me to get no sleep sunday night and to be able to only stick it out at work for 40 minutes the next day before I sheepishly repacked my bag and went home to nap, and in which a long-held daydream was both realized and shattered? (yeah, go figure out how that happened -- and then come back and explain it to me, please, because I really just don't get it.)

2) the call I just got from an ex-roommate, asking for things that she knows I do not have but to which, unfortunately, she is at least arguably entitled? And whether it's bad that the fact that I'm not a little irritated with her is at least in part the reason I haven't gotten to her request? And what on earth am I going to say to her when I have to call her back, as promised, tonight?

3) the ever-fascinating career stories, featuring recent highlights entitled "How to Convince Yourself that Sleeping Every Other Night Is Just Fine With You," "Why It is Not Smart to Win the Approval of The Firm's Most Precision-Oriented Partner," and "What To Do When You Need a Vacation and All You Can Afford is A Latte."

4) The pros and cons of my body's decision to quit smoking (I say my body, because that's truly where the decision came from. If it was up to my mind only, I would still be happily lighting up and engaging in what is truly my favorite hobby. But, unfortunately, sometimes the body just turns on you. And you can't ignore it. Spoiled little dictator. hmph.) and why I really want to turn the clock back to when cigarettes and the human body were invented, and figure out how to make them more compatible. Then again... the cigs might lose their appeal that way... 

Oh -- well, as it turns out -- I no longer have the luxury of deciding! Have just received (yet another!) "Hi-can-you-do-this-in-less-than-10-hours-even-though-you-don't-understand-this-area-of-law." amazing. so... yeah. better get on that.

Wheeeee!

So -- Day-O'-Hellish-Motions is over -- final score: 3-1 for motions in which I wrote briefs/argued -- so happy is me -- SSP won both motions I wrote briefs for (and in one, credited me directly for the win, as it was based on the judge's reading of the brief -- yes, i'm in shock too), and I, who was sent out to argue two motions that were almost certain losers, actually won one (my first, thankyouverymuch) by correcting the judge's misperception as to the definition of "objective" -- yay! And, Adored Little Sister is coming home for fall break from her first year of law school (yes, my mother's proud, no, we didn't plan it this way -- ALS was supposed to be a doctor, but freaked out after taking the MCATs and realized she didn't want to spend the next eight years of her shockingly beautiful youth shut up in a library -- so she chose law school as the next best option -- still makes your parents grossly happy and requires only three years of what we all know is really quite minimal effort) and i get to spend some QT with her.

Therefore, Baby Lawyer now decrees: Go forth and celebrate the weekend!! Take the next two days off -- don't bring any work home and CERTAINLY don't go near the office. Laugh and drink and eat and make lots of merriment -- at least, that's what I plan to do -- ttfn!