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.
Monday, September 24, 2007
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