Monday, October 22, 2007
Fall Thoughts
Well, I continue to walk (dance?) to the beat of my own drum. On Saturday, I attended a pumpkin carving party at the home of one of my professors. In the invitation, he made the mistake of mentioning that costumes were an option. Of course I took him up on the idea. Okay, I was the only one to take him up on the idea. I think that my butterfly wings made something of a splash. There was much talk and ruminations about the butterfly as a proper object for celebrating Halloween. . . . Actually, it was quite fun, but I couldn't talk anyone into trying them on. We had a good time, and it was really a new experience for me to carve pumpkins with people from all over the world, China, Korea, Uganda, Pakistan, Germany, Moldova. . . . . At one point, one of the visiting research scholars, who is an assistant professor in China, actually was giggling. The student from Pakistan made a jack-o-lantern that looked like President Musharraf, and the daughters of the research scholar from Korea were disgusted by the inside of the pumpkins. I couldn't stay long, though as I was off to a dinner party that included a whole different bunch of folks from other countries. It was a great weekend, but now, this week I have to pay for taking the time off! Lots to do. I hope you are all well. You are in my thoughts and heart. Hope to catch up with you soon.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Catching Up
Hi friends, well, we have some catching up to do! My silence comes not from a lack of consideration or kind thoughts in your direction(s), but from my absorption in my tasks at hand (okay, I've been self-absorbed, it's all about Shari, etc., etc., but I have been thinking of you and sending you wonderful well wishes). Last week, I finished my first project, a paper (short) and a presentation (30 minutes, okay, it was actually 40 minutes because I couldn't shut up. . . . ). I had to relearn (teach myself) how to do research, and worse yet, how to do legal citations!
During my researching stint, I found myself at the Iowa Law Library at 8:00 on a Sunday night. I needed to find some session laws, and I wanted to see the hard copies. Now, for anyone who doesn't do this kind of research, these session laws can be wily little suckers, and sometimes very hard to ferret out--at least in my experience. And for the life of me, I couldn't remember where to go, so I thought I would make use of the reference librarian. He was very helpful, but he couldn't help making fun of my Blue Book (the book to help figure out how to do these convoluted citations). I told the librarian that it had been a long time since I had done any of this kind of research, and he said, "Yeah, I see that your Blue Book is pretty old, we are up to the 18th edition now. . . . (ha, ha, ha)" Later, after he walked away, I snuck a peek at my BB and saw 14th edition! A relic! Well, needless to say, I had the distinct and perfect pleasure of pitching that BB into the trash, and buying a new one. Now, I can even cite to the internet. (May I also make the less than flattering observation that librarian humor is very odd indeed).
So, in the best tradition of friendship, I must admit that I have a tendency to suck my friends into the foibles and dramas of my life. Of course now, my dramas are dried up, mundane issues such as blue books, session laws and such (no torrid romances or blood feuds for me). But, you go with what you have. I was talking to my friend, Janet, last week, telling her about my writing/presentation project on hawalas. Of course, being the kind, attentive friend that she is, she made the mistake of asking what a hawala is. Unfortunately, I explained in heart sicking detail the minute ins and outs of hawalas (essentially, they are underground banks that are often used by money launderers). She was so moved by my dissertation that she actually later wrote a poem about it! Here is the poem in full:
A fashion designer from Walla
Sold coats of the precious koala
to cover the tracks
of his criminal acts
He consulted his local howala.
Isn't it beautiful? I, in turn, was so moved by the poem, that I ended my presentation to my Law in the Muslim World class with a reading of the poem. It was hard to discern the favorable impression of my classmates and professor on this reading (I know it was there, secretly burning in their hearts), but you know those lawyers, stoic to the end. . . . .
I would love to write more, but I have to run to class. Have a happy and fruitful week everyone, and I'll write more soon.
During my researching stint, I found myself at the Iowa Law Library at 8:00 on a Sunday night. I needed to find some session laws, and I wanted to see the hard copies. Now, for anyone who doesn't do this kind of research, these session laws can be wily little suckers, and sometimes very hard to ferret out--at least in my experience. And for the life of me, I couldn't remember where to go, so I thought I would make use of the reference librarian. He was very helpful, but he couldn't help making fun of my Blue Book (the book to help figure out how to do these convoluted citations). I told the librarian that it had been a long time since I had done any of this kind of research, and he said, "Yeah, I see that your Blue Book is pretty old, we are up to the 18th edition now. . . . (ha, ha, ha)" Later, after he walked away, I snuck a peek at my BB and saw 14th edition! A relic! Well, needless to say, I had the distinct and perfect pleasure of pitching that BB into the trash, and buying a new one. Now, I can even cite to the internet. (May I also make the less than flattering observation that librarian humor is very odd indeed).
So, in the best tradition of friendship, I must admit that I have a tendency to suck my friends into the foibles and dramas of my life. Of course now, my dramas are dried up, mundane issues such as blue books, session laws and such (no torrid romances or blood feuds for me). But, you go with what you have. I was talking to my friend, Janet, last week, telling her about my writing/presentation project on hawalas. Of course, being the kind, attentive friend that she is, she made the mistake of asking what a hawala is. Unfortunately, I explained in heart sicking detail the minute ins and outs of hawalas (essentially, they are underground banks that are often used by money launderers). She was so moved by my dissertation that she actually later wrote a poem about it! Here is the poem in full:
A fashion designer from Walla
Sold coats of the precious koala
to cover the tracks
of his criminal acts
He consulted his local howala.
Isn't it beautiful? I, in turn, was so moved by the poem, that I ended my presentation to my Law in the Muslim World class with a reading of the poem. It was hard to discern the favorable impression of my classmates and professor on this reading (I know it was there, secretly burning in their hearts), but you know those lawyers, stoic to the end. . . . .
I would love to write more, but I have to run to class. Have a happy and fruitful week everyone, and I'll write more soon.
Sunday, September 9, 2007
I'm Still Here
Hi folks, I didn't fall off the face of the earth, I just got busy--imagine that! Hey, law school is great. And yes, it is a lot of work! I haven't written anything because I don't have any stories. Maybe I've been too focused on moi to really notice anything.
Let's see, how do I explain how my life has gone for the past two weeks. . . . . . . well, picture me, zipping around in my little white car, from home to school, and school to home, trotting the way between the parking lot and school, trudging the stairwells of the law school, and generally going. And then there is the sitting--sitting in class, waiting for class, reading, reading, reading, and typing, typing, typing. I've been working on a project for one of the professors--this isn't anything that takes finesse, just determination. I've been finding addresses of foreign law schools. It is truly interesting to type in a language that is not my own. I can only hope the correspondence arrives. . . . . I even had to get Nora's help when I was truly lost. Then, there is the massage, and the trying to keep my house looking somewhat presentable, and oh yeah, I have to remember to do those things like eat. I'm not complaining, mind you, I am actually enjoying life. I'm just cramming more stuff into it. Well, I've got to keep running--there is a massage client due here in about 3.5 minutes. Cheers!
Let's see, how do I explain how my life has gone for the past two weeks. . . . . . . well, picture me, zipping around in my little white car, from home to school, and school to home, trotting the way between the parking lot and school, trudging the stairwells of the law school, and generally going. And then there is the sitting--sitting in class, waiting for class, reading, reading, reading, and typing, typing, typing. I've been working on a project for one of the professors--this isn't anything that takes finesse, just determination. I've been finding addresses of foreign law schools. It is truly interesting to type in a language that is not my own. I can only hope the correspondence arrives. . . . . I even had to get Nora's help when I was truly lost. Then, there is the massage, and the trying to keep my house looking somewhat presentable, and oh yeah, I have to remember to do those things like eat. I'm not complaining, mind you, I am actually enjoying life. I'm just cramming more stuff into it. Well, I've got to keep running--there is a massage client due here in about 3.5 minutes. Cheers!
Monday, August 27, 2007
Tomorrow's the Day
So, now that I am a University of Iowa Student, I get a free DI every day (student newspaper, for non-IowaCitians). I was reading today and felt a prickle of thrill. The Dance Cheer tryouts are September 3rd and 7th. Do you think I should try out? Maybe now all of my high school fantasies could come true. . . . or not, huh, let's just stick with the thrill of the fantasy. It is pretty great, though, imagining the looks of the youngsters as I walk in and say, "Is this where we try out? Do you think my spandex is too tight? This is gonna be fun!" They would never be the same.
Tomorrow is the first day of classes. I finally met with my adviser last week, and he suggests that I take 5 classes. Here is the line-up: Intro. to Public International Law, International Business Transactions, Law of the Muslim World, National Security Law and Constitutional Law of the European Union. Tomorrow morning is Int'l Bus. Trans. and L. of the Muslim World. I'll give you all an update about the whole thing. Keep your fingers crossed for me.
Tomorrow is the first day of classes. I finally met with my adviser last week, and he suggests that I take 5 classes. Here is the line-up: Intro. to Public International Law, International Business Transactions, Law of the Muslim World, National Security Law and Constitutional Law of the European Union. Tomorrow morning is Int'l Bus. Trans. and L. of the Muslim World. I'll give you all an update about the whole thing. Keep your fingers crossed for me.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Bumping and Bumbling a Bit
Okay, again, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. How exciting, the first day of law school! I'm ready, my hair is combed, my readings are done, I've eaten a good breakfast. It's all set! Well, maybe I was a little too excited.
I find that when I am anxious about things, I shift into a higher gear. I have to admit that lately, I've been going in the highest gear I know. I like to call it, over function drive. Yes, over function drive is the force that propels you to rip up your front lawn and make a garden out of it, or grind the paint off your basement walls or start cleaning your house to the point that you are using a Q-tip. When you do these things, you know you have shifted gears in a serious way.
So, yesterday, the first day of law school, I found myself feeding the parking meter with coins I had brought in plastic ziplock bags (earlier that morning, I had painstakingly organized the dimes, quarters and nickels into separate ziplocks--and yes, they were recycled bags that I had washed, dried and saved). I knew it was a sign of OFD, but I chose to ignore it.
I got to the law school right on time, and found that the front lobby was already packed with students. I realized that I was not the only one suffering the effects of OFD. I found the registration table quickly, but I couldn't find my nametag. The table helpers couldn't find my nametag either. They sent for help. Soon I was introduced to Chase who also searched in vain for my nametag. He found that my packet of essential orientation materials was also absent. He told me that he would be back, to have some breakfast (sugar crusted donuts and urn coffee with creamer that is more powder than cream), and relax. The coffee was better than I expected, and the students were interesting specimens.
Most of the students had found their specified groups. There were head students holding small placards on sticks displaying different letters of the alphabet, and students gathered round. They were shaking hands, introducing themselves, asking where each other went to undergrad, and generally doing the busyness of breaking the ice. They all seemed to know where to be.
Chase found me and explained, "Since you already have a JD, and having gotten it from this school, you aren't required to attend any of the orientation." I knew then, that the person who I had called and inquired about that very question had given me misinformation. I decided to go with the motto, "it's all good". I smiled and said, "Well, I'll go to some of it, at least, since I've done all the readings." Chase also explained that I wasn't given a group to join because I wasn't included in the orientation.
So, I sat down, watching the specimens, until it was time to troop into the auditorium-like Supreme Court classroom for the "Welcoming Remarks." These were initiated by Carolyn Jones, the somewhat new dean of the law school. It had been 20 years since I had seen Dean Jones, and at that time, she was a mere visiting tax professor at Iowa. I remembered her class (a personal disaster for me) as a blur of words like "basis" and "firepot" and such things that made no more sense to me than "flibberdo" or "ziddomel". What I remembered about Dean Jones is that she struck me as being brilliant and eccentric in a heartwarming kind of way. This opinion was strengthened by her remarks (she has a great penchant for the Weather Channel), and I found that I liked her combination of warmth, intelligence and personal expression (did I perhaps see Justice Wiggins squirm just a tad when Dean Jones exhorted the students to engage in self-exploration?).
Each of the speakers comported themselves well, and it was time to be off to the Law and Legal Reasoning class. As the students filed out of the classroom, I approached Dean Jones with the request to sit in on her section of LLR. She regretfully replied in the negative, that my prior law experience would "blow away" the new law students. I realized that she was telling me to just go home. I was taken a little aback--it was like I was 5 years old again, and after the first day of kindergarten, they told me that I couldn't go for another year, that I was too little, and that I would just have to wait. . . . . I rallied, though, smiled, shook her hand, and trooped out.
By the time I made it to the car, I realized that I had been given the precious gift of an extra week, one that wasn't filled with "things to do" and that I would be a fool to waste it. My plan for the week includes, getting my hair done, getting massage and Reiki, having my car professionally detailed, and visiting my dear friends in Des Moines. Thank you, Iowa Law School, for the best gift out there, free time.
Oh, and by the way, sometime ask me about last week's computer class, it went about the same way as the first day of law school. . . . . But despite the bumps and trips, I'll make it there soon. I know I'm supposed to go to law school this fall--they've already sent me the bill for it.
I find that when I am anxious about things, I shift into a higher gear. I have to admit that lately, I've been going in the highest gear I know. I like to call it, over function drive. Yes, over function drive is the force that propels you to rip up your front lawn and make a garden out of it, or grind the paint off your basement walls or start cleaning your house to the point that you are using a Q-tip. When you do these things, you know you have shifted gears in a serious way.
So, yesterday, the first day of law school, I found myself feeding the parking meter with coins I had brought in plastic ziplock bags (earlier that morning, I had painstakingly organized the dimes, quarters and nickels into separate ziplocks--and yes, they were recycled bags that I had washed, dried and saved). I knew it was a sign of OFD, but I chose to ignore it.
I got to the law school right on time, and found that the front lobby was already packed with students. I realized that I was not the only one suffering the effects of OFD. I found the registration table quickly, but I couldn't find my nametag. The table helpers couldn't find my nametag either. They sent for help. Soon I was introduced to Chase who also searched in vain for my nametag. He found that my packet of essential orientation materials was also absent. He told me that he would be back, to have some breakfast (sugar crusted donuts and urn coffee with creamer that is more powder than cream), and relax. The coffee was better than I expected, and the students were interesting specimens.
Most of the students had found their specified groups. There were head students holding small placards on sticks displaying different letters of the alphabet, and students gathered round. They were shaking hands, introducing themselves, asking where each other went to undergrad, and generally doing the busyness of breaking the ice. They all seemed to know where to be.
Chase found me and explained, "Since you already have a JD, and having gotten it from this school, you aren't required to attend any of the orientation." I knew then, that the person who I had called and inquired about that very question had given me misinformation. I decided to go with the motto, "it's all good". I smiled and said, "Well, I'll go to some of it, at least, since I've done all the readings." Chase also explained that I wasn't given a group to join because I wasn't included in the orientation.
So, I sat down, watching the specimens, until it was time to troop into the auditorium-like Supreme Court classroom for the "Welcoming Remarks." These were initiated by Carolyn Jones, the somewhat new dean of the law school. It had been 20 years since I had seen Dean Jones, and at that time, she was a mere visiting tax professor at Iowa. I remembered her class (a personal disaster for me) as a blur of words like "basis" and "firepot" and such things that made no more sense to me than "flibberdo" or "ziddomel". What I remembered about Dean Jones is that she struck me as being brilliant and eccentric in a heartwarming kind of way. This opinion was strengthened by her remarks (she has a great penchant for the Weather Channel), and I found that I liked her combination of warmth, intelligence and personal expression (did I perhaps see Justice Wiggins squirm just a tad when Dean Jones exhorted the students to engage in self-exploration?).
Each of the speakers comported themselves well, and it was time to be off to the Law and Legal Reasoning class. As the students filed out of the classroom, I approached Dean Jones with the request to sit in on her section of LLR. She regretfully replied in the negative, that my prior law experience would "blow away" the new law students. I realized that she was telling me to just go home. I was taken a little aback--it was like I was 5 years old again, and after the first day of kindergarten, they told me that I couldn't go for another year, that I was too little, and that I would just have to wait. . . . . I rallied, though, smiled, shook her hand, and trooped out.
By the time I made it to the car, I realized that I had been given the precious gift of an extra week, one that wasn't filled with "things to do" and that I would be a fool to waste it. My plan for the week includes, getting my hair done, getting massage and Reiki, having my car professionally detailed, and visiting my dear friends in Des Moines. Thank you, Iowa Law School, for the best gift out there, free time.
Oh, and by the way, sometime ask me about last week's computer class, it went about the same way as the first day of law school. . . . . But despite the bumps and trips, I'll make it there soon. I know I'm supposed to go to law school this fall--they've already sent me the bill for it.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
The Countdown
Well, the countdown has begun. Ten days until school starts and I am already studying. I am relearning the difference between trover and detinue (is there one?), and trying to remember how to brief a case. So far, it's all good. In fact, it's wonderful. What fun to feel the excitement of the upcoming semester from the point of view of the student! Each of the past 9 years, after returning to Iowa City, I have watched the students return in the fall, and feel the energy of it all, from the sidelines. Now, I am in the thick of it again. I have my locker assignment, my parking sticker and my notebooks. I've been like a ghost, haunting the law school with various trips to buy books, sign up for classes, and vain attempts to wheedle the library staff into giving me a study carol early. No one else cares about this right now. The office secretary said, "Oh, the first locker assignment of the year. . . ." I want to go now. I don't want to wait another week. I'm like the runner in the blocks, with my head down. I'm ready!
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