We had our official group portrait taken today, which reminded me of grade school class picture day and not in a good way, except for my colleague who made me laugh by asking if we should smile or put on our grim "I've Just Denied a Veteran Benefits!" faces.
Then I had to be bailiff-timekeeper for a round of moot court, which wore me out, not because timekeeping and reciting the "All rise..." was so hard, but because I did so much moot court myself in school that I couldn't help emotionally identifying with the contestants. I wanted to brain the mock judge (not an actual judge, just an attorney who helped out by playing judge) who gave about a half-hour of feedback before he finally announced which team won the round. Ugggghhhhh. You sit there all polite taking your feedback lumps and smiling and nodding and all the time your stomach is in knots and you can barely hear what the dude is saying because you're wondering if you WON OR LOST??!, JUST SAY IT, DAMMIT! Again I was transported back to grade school, when you'd go in on the last day just to get your report card and then you were dismissed for three months of summer vacation, and invariably they'd get the pastor, Fr. Sweeney, over to hand out the report cards, and before he did that he'd have to give you a sermon (it was probably 10 minutes or less but to a little kid waiting for summer to start, it felt like 10 years!) and you wanted to just grab your grades and split but he was the Pastor and he was talking about Praying and you had to be Polite or you would get yelled at, and inside you're just screaming HURRY UP!!!
The worst part is the losing teams will prolly go home thinking they did SO BAD, because that is how ubercompetitive law school conditions you to think when you lose, when actually these amateurs from Podunk School O' Law who may never get the chance to argue a real federal appeal have worked so hard and practiced so much just to make it to a national competition that even the relatively bad ones are about 25 times better than half the Average Joe Schmuck, Esq. appellate attorneys taking up counsel table space. A former deputy SG told us this week that the SG's office never even did moots until Ken Starr headed it. How do you prepare a decent argument without a moot? I can't imagine. And the SG attys were, and are, rock stars, so just imagine how bad everybody else is who hasn't bothered with a moot or worse yet, doesn't know what a moot is (I have seen some attys who I suspect fall in this category based on the weirdness of their argument styles).
And of course this evening I can't stop humming Keep on truckin' like a novacane hurricane/ No static on the paranoid short-wave/Short fuse, got to dismantle/ Code red: "what's your handle?" "Odelay" played over, and over, and over, got me through my 1L year and especially through the Barristers' Club moot court competition, spent my whole spring break writing the brief (completely by the seat of my pants as I'd never written a brief even for Legal Research at that point and never read one either) and then four days of arguing to pick the lucky 20 or so people who'd even make the team. X-ray, search and destroy/ Smokestack, blacktop, Novacane boy! I suspect I will be humming that song every time I approach a courtroom podium for the rest of my career.
Ted has gone to be with his 'rents and I am very very tired. I wish I was back home listening to good music with my friends around and only my friends, no bad past people, no bitchy people, no questionable people, nobody who I have to play guessing games about, just My Good Friends. I wish I could run away and live like Pie Town Woman in beautiful New Mexico and Alaska (even if Dan Savage did say Alaska should be renamed the "Alaskan National Damaged Goods Refuge"). I cannot be any of those places right now so I guess I'll do something nice and relaxing, like shop online for a Charlie Manson chain wallet. He's a magic man, Momma.