moot point

Moot court is over. And that fact has yet to sink in. I woke up this morning reciting "Mr. Chief Justice and may it please the court." Even though I have tried to shut off that part of my brain, the Batson wheels keep spinning.

We lost by 0.864 of a point. For one of the first times in my life, I wanted to swear all the swears and drink all the drinks. I wanted to throw all the things under all the buses. I was mad.

It stings. I wonder when it will stop stinging.

We did our best considering some odd circumstances. But the wonkiness of it all does little to make me feel better. (And it doesn't help that I had an elderly male judge ask me during my argument round, "Counsel, is there actually a case out there that says you can't discriminate against women during jury selection?" Um . . . yes, your honor, there is a case (and it's the same case I've been talking about for the last ten minutes). (And no, he wasn't throwing me a softball question. It was a legitimate concern of his. I wonder how long he has been striking women from juries just because they are women and shouldn't be more than three feet away from a kitchen stove.).

One of these days I will be able to laugh about it. Until then, I'm going to throw all the birds.

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  2. Wow. I can't believe that judge asked you that. I'm guessing he slept through the whole feminist movement. I'm sorry about the intensely close loss. I'm sure you did amazing. For what it's worth, (which I know is not much) I think you're awesome.

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