The Exercise Pain

If you have not exercised since Thanksgiving and then you decide to exercise for several days in a row at the end of December, you might be in pain for several days following that.  Just a little sage advice to start your new year.

The Perfect Jewish Christmas

• Sleep In


• Play rummikubs over brunch


• Lunch at Chinese restaurant


• Drive around looking at everything that is closed


• Two hour Chinese food induced coma


• Bake Cookies together (while listening to the ipod on shuffle)


• Light the Menorah, because it is a rare instance when Chanukah starts on the 25th


• Watch a Movie (The 40 Year Old Virgin)


• Snuggle up and read


• Back to bed

Tennis in Florida

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the apartment complex, nobody was stirring, except Mike and Anne, who went to the tennis courts and lobbed some good shots.  Florida in winter is fine.

The Shopping

Recently I had the horrific experience of finding myself in a Wal-Mart super-center.  In the toy aisle.  Surrounded by lots of parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles buying lots of stuff.  Apparently there is a “give me stuff” holiday coming up and super walmart’s shelves are overflowing with toys that make me pause.  I found myself frozen, highly alert, watching the people while simultaneously categorizing the toys in my head.  My fascination with the gender specificity of toys was equaled only by my new interest in the link between the toys and over-advertised TV shows.  The packaging is so overdone and so gender specific.    The people just kept piling them into their cart; the kids just kept asking for more.  My heart ached.  Misbehavior, mistreatment, neglect, irritation, frustration, screaming, slaps on the ass, surrounded their carts filled with all these toys.  My eyes widened as I felt overwhelmed with despair.  I nearly had a panic attack in the toy aisle of the Wal-Mart.  And I wouldn’t have been at all out of place.

My sadness stayed with me as I stood in line, waiting for Mike to find saran wrap.  And then I heard the little boy behind me stomp his feet and tell his dad how much he hated this day and how much he wanted whatever it was that he did not get.  Dad stood with the youngest boy in his arms, clutching a very girl looking doll.  I stared.  The middle boy squatted on the floor trying to open the ants in my pants game that he was getting.  And the oldest boy, with the stomping feet, stood nearby with a very age appropriate game of “Guess Who.”  I waited for dad’s response.  He cleared his throat and said, “I know that you are not very happy.  I know that it was not a perfect day.  Not all days are perfect days.  I feel upset too when my days aren’t all that I want them to be.”  And just like that, my faith in people was revived by a family that not only picked through the rubble to find appropriate toys, but also talked to their children like civilized respected human beings.  And to top it all off, the youngest boys choice of a toy marketed to girls didn’t seem to even give them pause.  The middle boy asked if they were going to get candy, and the dad suggested sugar free gum, to which these grateful children applauded and cheered.

I started to drown in the Super Wal-Mart in Orlando, but was rescued by a family that never even knew I was watching them.  Mike chastised me for not saying something to the dad, giving him some sort of stranger support, and I wonder now if I should have.  

The No Smoking Light

Here’s my thought on airplanes.  Maybe instead of having that no smoking light that is always on, they should exchange it for a light that indicates when you can or can’t use your electronic devices.  I mean, come on, how long has it been since you’ve been able to smoke on a flight in the continental US?  They don’t have a no cell phone light up there, reminding you through the entire flight that you can’t use your cell phone.  Isn’t the purpose of the light to let you know when you can and can’t do something?  What is the point of having a light that stays lit the entire trip just to remind you that you can’t smoke?  Electronic devices, however, you can use during some portions of the trip.  How about a little light for the electronic devices?  Then when you are listening to your ipod or watching a movie on your laptop, you will know when it is time to turn it off.  As it is now, every time you hear a ding (if you hear it), you have to pause the music, and listen really closely.  Then, because your ears are stuffy and they don’t seem to instruct the pilot on how not to hold the intercom microphone directly onto his mouth, all you hear is, “Fank fou for ffffff flight.  We fwill ffdesent. . . ffturned offffand stowed.”  Then a bunch of people all with one of their headphones out look at each other and shrug their shoulders.  Next thing you know the steward person comes and admonishes everyone for not turning off their electronic devices and putting their seats in their upright position.  But thank god, that light was shining the entire way, reminding us not to smoke, so no worries there.  And just in case you’ve forgotten, it is a federal offense to mess with the smoke detectors in the bathroom.  Enjoy your flight.  

The Memorization

• 23 hours until torts exam


• I have mostly memorized the elements and special circumstances of the intentional torts: false imprisonment, trespass to chattels, trespass to land, intentional infliction of emotional distress, conversion, assault, and battery.


• I have mostly memorized the defenses and their nuanced application: Consent, self defense, defense of others, defense of property, recovery of property, necessity (public and private), authority, discipline, and justification


• I still have to memorize the biggest tort of all – Negligence – about ½ the semester.


• I am not so worried about application as much as I am worried about remembering it all. Memorization is not one of my strengths.


• Send your mental memorization strengths to me tomorrow from 1:00-5:00.

The Civ Pro Exam

I have no idea how I did on my civ pro exam. The exam seemed fairly straightforward, but I don’t honestly know how I did. You never know how you do on these exams, because how you did is plainly and simply only a measured against how everyone else did. If you saw more things, articulated more things then the others in the class, then you did well. If you saw less things, articulated worse than the others in the class you did poorly. It is the heart of the ranking system. You are only measured by your comparative performance to everyone else.

Since I last wrote, I’ve liked the idea more and more of opting out of this ranking process. It makes me feel like me again. I have no idea how it will play out because as I’ve talked about it, several friends have reminded me that you have to put your class rank on your resume and on every application you fill out. Additionally, some firms only interview those who fall within the top ten percent or the top twenty-five percent. It will be interesting to see how this all plays out.

In two days I take my next, last, and final exam for the semester: Torts. This is my only closed book exam, so the memorization begins now. I can’t say that I have ever understood the point of memorization exams. The day after the tort’s exam, I leave for 25 days in Orlando with Mike. Woooooo Hoooooo!

The Ideals

I think I am almost recovered from yesterday’s contracts exam, and now I have 47 hours until my civil procedure exam. The layout of the exam was two 1.5 hour essays and 1 hour of multiple choice. I had a lot of trouble with my time and felt very rushed. It’s hard to keep going straight for that long. It takes a lot out of you. The contracts exam really affected me. I felt really let down afterwards. I realized that I missed three issues: damages ascertainability and avoidability and a liquidated damages provision. What sucks is that if I had seen them I could have written about them and probably would have done well on the exam. But I did not even see them. You can’t get any points for what you don’t include. I wish that I hadn’t talked about the exam afterwards so my confidence would have stayed up and I would have immediately started studying civ pro. Instead I cried a lot and psyched myself out. I’m probably making a bigger deal about these issues then they are. But I won’t have any idea until January 6.

It’s been making me think more and more about the impact of these grades. I read an article about Law School being like Junior High, but instead of it being about what your peers think, it is about what your class rank is. I kind of feel like that. Last night a lot of my self worth was wrapped up in how I did on a four hour exam because that will be the outward expression of me and what I have learned in the first semester of law school. Today, I have been letting that go and remembering that I know that I have learned a great deal. That if I missed three issues on an exam that is not reflective of the big picture. I understand and can articulate the concepts.

I keep thinking about what I would tell a child in this position. I would tell them to ignore the class rank. I am trying to hold on to those ideals. I am trying to hold on to the non-competitive (rule 8a) me. It is very hard. I have a few ideas boiling in my brain, though. I don’t know whether I will be able to go through with them though. I start first with my ideal that my class rank should not be a reflection of my self worth. If I believe this, then does what my class rank is matter? Not really, as long as I pass. I feel pretty confident that I passed. So, really there is no need to know further. If I am happy with what I have learned why does anybody need to know how I scored.

When I first started thinking about this, I thought that I would not share with my law school friends. So far, sharing with handful of people has been a disaster anyway. My score has been higher than their scores and then I just feel guilty about doing better and worrying and complaining with them. They don’t like it either. Then I started thinking that perhaps I didn’t need to share with my friends and families either. I mean, if they think I am learning and growing why do they need to have a number that again only reflects a four hour exam? That’s when I realized that maybe I don’t need the number either. If I truly believe that the score is not reflective of me then it shouldn’t be reflective of me whether it is high or low. I imagine at some point, I will have to write it on some application, but what would happen if I didn’t get it until then? I don’t imagine I have the willpower to withhold this information from myself, but I have until January 6 to figure it out.

This is where I am – This class rank number is not reflective of me. This class rank number is not reflective of what I’ve learned. The hardest thing about ideals is that you have to hold onto them even when you want to let them go. That is you can’t celebrate your class rank/ score when you do well, but say that it is not reflective when you don’t do well. My true belief, whether my score or rank is high or low is that it is not a worthy measure of all that I am.

THE TESTS

So you may have noticed that I’ve dropped off the radar. That is because we are about to begin THE TESTS. I have been pulling 12-13 hour days since thanksgiving, preparing for THE TESTS. I can’t remember ever feeling pressure like this in my life. Honestly. It all comes down to THE TESTS. THE TESTS determine 85 – 100 % of your grade. THE TESTS are all curved. Real live curves. Like the only way you know how you did is by comparing how much better or worse you did then 75 other people. And then you get this little number called your class rank. Everything from here on out is based on your class rank: interviews, scholarships, etc. They tell you that you can still get a job with a low class rank and then in the next breath they tell you that the only way to keep your options open as to which kind of job is to keep your class rank high. How do you do that? There is only one way. Score well on THE TESTS. When is somebody going to move the standardized testing debate to law school? I could literally fail out of law school and be told not to come back next semester based on my four hour performance on THE TESTS. That’s four hours on Wednesday, three hours on Saturday, and four hours on Tuesday. I know that failing out is a possibility, because we have two people in our class who failed out last year. I’ve talked to them. They thought they were doing fine. They thought they understood the law. Then they took THE TESTS. Then they got a letter in the mail, saying maybe you should consider another career or at least wait a year and start all over again.

Take all your positive law school exam thoughts and center them on ME tomorrow Wednesday at 1:00. (Unless you’re in my class, in which case you better be spotting issues)

The Rules

Which rule of federal civil procedure are you? CLICK HERE TO FIND OUT!

This is the funniest thing. I wonder if one would enjoy it if they were not in law school. I find it particularly funny, because I’ve actually had to read a lot of these rules. As soon it came up with “You are rule 8(a)” I thought “short plain statement on pleading.” It was more right then it knew, because as well as being laid back, I am also short and plain. :) Here are my results – feel free to post yours in the comments!

YOU ARE RULE 8(a)!
You are Rule 8, the most laid back of all the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure. While your forefather in the Federal Rules may have been a stickler for details and particularity, you have clearly rebelled by being pleasant and easy-going. Rule 8 only requires that a plaintiff provide a short and plain statement of a claim on which a court can grant relief. While there is much to be lauded in your approach, your good nature sometimes gets you in trouble, and you often have to rely on your good friend, Rule 56, to bail you out.
2293 other people got this result!This quiz has been taken 7932 times.29% of people had this result.

The Coat

Today I took out my winter coat and found in the pockets:

• Three one dollar bills


• two dum dum wrappers


• one dum dum stick


• two dice


• a unifex cube


• and a note from Monserrat’s grandma saying to keep her inside if it is cold outside. (Monserrat hasn’t been in my class in two years)

Do normal people clean out their pockets before they put their winter coats away? Because if they do, I think they are missing out. Nothing takes you back to last year like a unifex cube and a dum dum stick.

Last year I was getting ready to present at NCTE and I had just started studying for the LSAT. This year, I am counting the days until final exams at the end of my first semester of law school.

Either way, it is cold outside.

The Break

It’s so hard to work on Fridays. Michele took me to a free Korean buffet at the Baptist student center and any thought of working before contracts went out of my head. Now we are all gathered in the student lounge, each spending the moments before contracts in our own non-academic way. Ilene is pretending to read twenty thousand pages ahead, but either she has phenomenal concentration, or she’s getting nothing done. Patrick is playing fantasy baseball. Michele and Rebecca are watching movie trailers trying to decide what to rent tonight. Breck, Susie, and Carla are crowded around one computer, designing engagement rings on shaneco.com. Jennifer is perusing overstock.com and a few tables away Tyson is lost to his ipod. I personally was checking out Florida law schools, thinking of transfer before deciding to blog. At least blogging makes me feel somewhat accomplished. I’m not quite sure why. This is what happens in a law school when it’s Friday afternoon, we have one class left for the afternoon, and the memo to determine our whole grade in one class is due in seven days. You push and push and then you just sort of reach this point where you need to breathe. But you never know when that moment is going to come. I kind of wish it came later, when I would be able to play my banjo or read a book. Instead I will be working all evening to make up for these few hours of breathing.

The Swimming

Law school is kind of like teaching a child to swim.

You know when you get to that point that where the child can swim, but they don’t know it yet? You hold out your arms and tell them to just swim to your arms. But you deceptively back away as they are swimming so that they never quite reach you? And then suddenly you grasp them up and show them that they have swum across the entire pool! (A little review for those of you that thought you teach a child to swim by throwing them in a pool)

Well in law school, all your time is filled with law school. It is like the child who is immersed in the water during the time they are learning to swim. (Ok, I know that part was a reach). Well anyway, the rest of it is pretty good. Ok, so at the beginning of the semester you have a certain amount of work to do. And it pretty much takes up all your time. You are just learning how to read and brief cases, so short readings take forever. Then over time, you start to adjust and get faster at it. Only now, on top of doing the readings, you have two memo’s to write. Suddenly that extra time that you thought you would get if only you could read and brief faster is taken up by something else. Then you begin to schedule a sort of regular writing time into your schedule, and you are faster at that too. But, low and behold, now you have to start making outlines and studying them. At this point, I can finish what used to take me all night in about an hour. But after that hour is done, I still have enough writing and outlining to take me all night.

No matter how fast I swim, I still end of choking before I reach the outstretched arms that have moved to the other side of the pool.

The Soapbox

Yesterday I went to an elementary school for the first time since I left teaching.. I am now officially a school based big sister; except at the school they just call us mentors. My mentee is in first grade and six years old.

I was a little worried about going to the school, because these last few months I have many times regretted my decision of leaving teaching. But when I walked into that classroom and saw all that stuff on the walls and remembered how many things you have to do at once and how I never felt good at doing any of them and how I couldn’t keep up with the paperwork and how I had to stay after school until it was dark out and then take things home with me and how I had to be a teacher and a counselor and a friend and a parent, all while feeling like a failure because I didn’t care about the “standards”, only about children learning. . . . whew.

I remembered that I was good at being with kids, good at connecting with them, good at teaching them in the ways that our current government doesn’t value. When will people ever understand that they can’t have it both ways? You can’t teach children to be critically thinking beings and stick to some bureaucratic bullshit standardized schedule. You can’t value individuality but then expect everybody to be at the same place at the same time. You can’t hold all children to the same standard, because they have not all lived the same life. When you say that you are raising those who have not benefited from money and class, race and gender, you are speaking a lie. To ask those who are the farthest from the goal to race the hardest is not striving for greatness. To ask the least equipped children to climb mountains, while other children already rest on the plateau is not lifting them up. To place a bar where some children will never reach is not valued competition. These are all lies. Lies for what purpose? So that the same children will be left behind? Or so that textbook companies can get fat off the required standardized testing, while children who are poor and impoverished can pay the price through their lack of learning? Or so that political rhetoric can win races championing standards and goals that do not reflect the values of most parents?

I loved to teach. I loved to be with children. And I am good at connecting with children. I was underpaid and overworked, but I probably would have stayed if . . . if what? What would have to be different to make it work? So much more than I can write at this time on this night. And I must say, that I was in the best school in the world: a place where children and adults want to be and where children are valued and listened to. However, even with my own school and corporation holding an umbrella over our classrooms to protect us, “no child left behind” still crept uninvited into my classroom and destroyed children’s lives: children that I knew and cared about and children that the politicians have never truly known.

It’s mean of me to say all these things, because I know that other teachers are surviving it. I even know that there are teachers teaching new teachers to teach children to be thoughtful and reflective and critical. But it just ate me alive. I know that it eats at them to. Sometimes I think I am a quitter or a failure because I left. Other times I think of the greatness in them that lets them stay.

Fact or Fiction

I kid you not.

I was working diligently on my computer at a table in a common area of the law school. I sat alone. Thankfully, my concentration was broken by a warm hello as a fellow 1L walked towards me. The “hello” caused me to look up just as she stumbled over her feet and a paper cup filled with hot brown liquid came careening towards me. I snatched my computer into the air, sacrificing my Civ Pro book to the splattering liquid. Amidst her apologies, I convinced her to go go go for paper towels, as I watched the murky brown liquid drip down between the keys of my keyboard. Unknown hands reached out with paper towels and I dabbed gingerly at the keys. Using damp paper towels, I gingerly washed between the keys and cleaned the bottom of the computer. Two days later, the only long lasting effect seems to be a tea smudge on the bottom of my screen.

I am thankful that it was tea, with a low sugar content. I am thankful that I swung my computer into the air. I am thankful to my civ pro book for bravely taking the brunt of the attack, even if it does crinkle each time I open it to remind me of its chivalry. Most of all, I am thankful that Murphy’s law is not fully in effect and I did not lose many hours, days, and weeks of work right after my previous posting of my laptop concerns. QUICK – knock some wood – somewhere – anywhere!

The Rain

Today I clutched my backpack with my laptop to my chest and clumsily tried to cover us both with my sad tan umbrella, two broken prongs flopping in the wind. I was reminded of The Yellow Umbrella. My shoes were dark with the wet and my corduroys clung to my skin near my ankles. The back of my sweater was wet enough that when I retrieved it from locker after several hours of studies a damp odor greeted me. Some people have big umbrellas that cover their body and their precious laptop bags, others walk to class in sweatshirts, darkened from the rain. It seems that people are either prepared or don’t care. I found myself out of place, wanting to be dry, but without the proper equipment. I want a big rain poncho that will cover my backpack and myself and an umbrella that somehow protects me down to my feet. It’s not the getting wet that bothers me so much as the wetness staying with me throughout the way as a dampness to my very bones. Maybe I should keep a change of clothes and shoes at the law school. I already feel like Mr. Rogers as I change from my outdoor sweater to my indoor sweater each day.

Protection of my precious laptops worries me too. What if the rain becomes torrential and the wetness drips into my electronic note keeper? My reliance on my electronic friend should motivate me to back it up more often than I do. Last week, a fellow law student, through an unusual sequence of events had her laptop destroyed in the first few minutes of torts class. The person seated next to the law student had piping hot coffee that was inadvertently pushed upon her laptop by a third person rushing by to get to his seat. She rushed from the room, taking her laptop immediately to some sort of computer emergency repair place. They reported that it would cost less to get a new laptop then to try and repair the latte loving laptop. Thankfully, she, smarter than me, had just recently backed up all her files. Now I warily eye anybody that has an open drink near my laptop. I inch my computer away, and have been working on the etiquette of asking them to place their drink on the floor, where it will pose no risk.

The Time Change

Last night I had to do something I have not had to do in fourteen years. It was wonderful that it was this weekend, because Mike and I got an extra hour together. I think. Actually I still get confused about how the whole daylight saving time works. But what do you expect? I’ve been living in Indiana for fourteen years. Check this site out for some far reaching effects of daylight saving time. (it is saving . . . not savings).

Four weeks of classes + one week of thanksgiving = finals

The competition

Today was fabulicious. Thanks to a bazillion hours reading this weekend, today I had my work done by 7:30pm instead of the normal 10:30pm. I was able to work out, do the dishes, and I am still going to bed before 10:00pm. Life is good.

We get our first midterm (contracts) back tomorrow. The grades were posted last Friday. I am such a hypocrite. All those years of downplaying grades, and there I stood with my numbered slip of paper, not only checking my grade but counting how many people did better than me and how close I was to the top. Shameful. I was even part of the chorus in the hallways, chanting “Who got the 97?” Law school tests are graded on a strict curve, which seems to mean 10% do very well, 10% are debating whether they made the right choice in coming to law school, and 80% feel average. John posted that actual stats in his blog It is a very competitive process. Over the last 3 weeks, four first year law students have dropped out. That’s 4 out of 152. You do the math. Theoretically, I am not competitive. But apparently, and quite shamefully, law school is bringing this out in me. I hereby pledge to not participate in the same shameful grade comparison behavior when I get my torts exam back.

P.S. this pledge is in no way influenced by my belief that I did worse in torts. :)

The Coons

Molly lifts her right leg and her tail stand points straight behind her. Her body trembles. Her eyes are fixated. Enough time passes that I wonder if she is tired of holding her leg up. And then it happens. SMACK. She slams into the glass door, full force. The raccoon outside gives a little laugh and gives her the finger. I am not kidding, that guy doesn’t even flinch anymore. He knows Molly can’t get to him. He stands within 12 inches of the door and just keeps on eating. My parents pretend to be distressed by the return of the coons, but I ask them why they have a buffet of bird and squirrel food set out for them. Every time I see the coons, I am reminded of Where the Red Fern Grows which was one of the last read alouds I did as a teacher. It is one of my all times favorites. I wonder if Molly could have been a coon dog and what tricks my little buffet eating coons would pull to get away from her. They sure have shown themselves to be smart enough to know that the big pane of glass will keep Molly from coming after them. I’m just waiting for them to knock on the door when the food supply is low or leave requests for different food varieties.

Circles

Judge Henry Friendly: “Our principal task, in this diversity of citizenship case, is to determine what the New York courts would think the California courts would think on an issue about which neither has thought.”

In Civil Procedure, we are learning about what laws get applied in what circumstances. A case can be brought in federal court only under very specific instances. The biggest one we have focused on has been diversity. Basically no plaintiff and no defendant can be from the same place and the amount in controversy has to be more than $75,000. Seems simple, eh? But of course it is not. You have to jump through fifty hoops to figure out where plaintiffs and defendants are from and then you have to apply all this wacky stuff to figure out whether the amount in controversy can actually be more than $75,000 (Can you add plaintiff’s claims together? What if there is a liquidated damages clause, limiting the damages, etc). Well, if you finally figure out that the case belongs in federal diversity court, the question of choice of law comes up.

Basically laws are different from state to state, and federal laws are different from all of them. Basically, laws can arise from the US constitution (federal law), federal statutes (federal law) or federal court decisions (again, you guessed it. . . federal law). Or laws can arise from state constitutions, (state laws), state statutes (state laws), or state court decisions (yes, Virginia, those are, in fact state laws as well). So, and hold on because you might find this fascinating. Different states may have laws that conflict with one and other and different state laws may conflict with federal laws. Now, there are some complex rules about which laws trump other laws within states, and a few about that pesky US constitution trumping all. But, there are times, when the contradiction between the applicable laws is very real and courts have to be very clear about whose laws they are applying. “Choice of law” is a bit of a misnomer, because it really isn’t a choice most of the time.

We now return to our diversity claim. So we have a case that is being heard in federal court, but it got there because everybody is from different places and there is a LOT of money at stake, not because the claim has anything to do with federal law. So whose law applies? Federal or state? Well of course they’ve spent just about forever trying to figure that out, and the supreme court seems to weigh in fairly regularly with various opinions, which at times actually conflict with what they said several years ago on the same decision. This change is probably due in part to the changing judges on the Supreme Court. (This is the oh shit not Harriet Miers moment of the blog).

All right, so let’s suppose in this particular instance, the federal court must implement state law. So they have to interpret how that state would implement that state law. However, there are some strange instances where one state actually has to implement another state’s law. Let’s suppose now that that gets removed to federal court. Now the federal court has to interpret how the first state would interpret the law of the second state. And if neither state has ruled on the issue. . . well, that brings us full circle to the quote at the beginning of this blog. Which made me laugh out loud. Which made me decide to share. Which made me realize that you might not laugh out loud without all the pertinent boiled down background I have just provided. Which means that if you go back and read it now you might laugh out loud. Or you might not have a good sense of humor. Either way, isn’t your head hurting now?

Window into Law Class

Well, midterms are done and I have shirked my week long attitude funk. It is Friday in the pm and I will shortly be joining other law students at the bowling alley. Did I say bowling alley? Yes I did. The last time I went bowling was with FRD when he was about four years old. Oh well.

I feel like I have a moment for a breath for the first time in a month. I have time to breathe and even managed to work out last night. It has been pressing in the back of my mind, how to begin blogging after such a long vacation, but I decided to just jump right back in. Anything to help me reconnect.

So, law school has become more nuanced. I found myself taking notes for 25 minutes on the details of res ipsa loquitur negligence. Res ipsa loquitur means that the things speaks for itself. Which makes me wonder why we had to speak of it for several days.

So here is a window into 25 minutes of my torts class. These are my true unadulterated notes, so take them as you will, and just imagine hours of this each day:


10/20/2005, 9:12 AM Hypo: car ran into ditch, hitting telephone pole.

Could you give the instruction?

1. Your verdict must be for plaintiff if you believe first defendant drove at an excessive speed, second defendant was thereby negligent. Third as a direct result of such negligence plaintiff sustained damage. Negligence or negligent as used in this instruction refers to the failure to use the care that an ordinarily reasonable person would use under the same or similar circumstances.

No you can not give this instruction, because there was no evidence of excessive speed.

1. Your verdict must be for plaintiff if you believe:

First, defendant was the driver of the automobile, and
Second, the automobile left the street and ran into the ditch
And third, from the facts in evidence and the reasonable inferences there from, you find such occurrence was the direct result of defendant's negligence and
Fourth, as a direct result of such negligence plaintiff sustained damage. (include paragraph on negligence instruction)

Yes. It is the fact of the accident that creates the inference of the negligence. This is the missouri instruction for res ipsa loquitur. The same paragraph on negligence would be there.

Suppose we have testimony that a car was going really fast and then in ran into a ditch. Could we submit jury instruction number 1? Do we have enough evidence to warrant that instruction? We have direct evidence of excessive rate of speed. If the jury believes that witness, then they can believe all the elements. If they don't believe the witness then they decide in favor of the defendant. It would be rare for a court to say that direct testimony of a witness isn't enough to go to jury. If you wanted to, could you just give the second instruction? Plaintiff calls the witness, who testifies that the car was speeding. Can plaintiff then submit the res ipsa instruction? When do you use the regular negligence instruction and when do use the res ipsa instruction. Res ipsa is not a separate tort, it is just a way of proving the standard negligence action by circumstantial evidence. How do you decide when to submit it as a res ipsa case? In the other negligence cases, you fill in the blank with the untaken precaution. The evidence explains how this accident happened. So the plaintiff fills in the specific precaution that the defendant failed to take. Then the jury decides if it's true, and if true was it negligent, and if negligent were the injuries the direct result.

IN res ipsa, we don’t know what the defendant did. We just know that they must have made some sort of mistake, or else the accident wouldn't have happened. Why did the car leave the road and run into the ditch. Is it because of speed, failure to keep control, failure to look. Without a witness we don't know. The res ipsa case is essentially proof of negligence by circumstantial evidence. But it is proof of general negligence by circumstantial evidence. The specific negligence case is when we do know what the defendant did.

If you have specific evidence of excessive speed, you could have direct evidence or you could have circumstantial evidence of speed. Testimony or length of skid marks, damage to the vehicle. But whether you have direct or circumstantial evidence you could still submit that specific instruction.

10/20/2005, 9:28 AM hypo: What if the plaintiff has a witness saying the car was going 60 mph and the defendant has a witness saying he was only going 30 mph. Could the plaintiff submit the res ipsa jury instruction if they wanted to? Why would you want to? Because then even if the jury believed the defendant's evidence, they could find for negligence. Plaintiff may think it was because of speeding, but if they bring the res ipsa case, they will not lose on the basis of the different witness. Regardless of whether he was speeding, he was still negligence. Res Ipsa Loquitur, the accident speaks for itself.

If it's undisputed, you have to submit under specific jury instruction. In a case where the evidence is inconclusive, the plaintiff has a good argument that she should get to the jury under the res ipsa instruction. Courts are split on that question. Majority say if you have specific evidence of negligence, you have to submit that. Majority says that if you have specific evidence, but notwithstanding that, you still have a negligence case under res ipsa, you could submit that jury instruction. This is really about principles of evidence. Really boils down to relevance. DO I have relevant evidence that someone was negligent? How can you evaluate circumstantial evidence?

In the banana peel cases we are trying to determine if the banana peel was there long enough for someone to have the responsibility of cleaning it. Some cases said yes, some said no. This is circumstantial evidence. We were really talking about evidence. IN res ipsa, it is different than those cases, because those are cases where you are proving specific negligence by circumstantial evidence. Res ipsa loquitur is different. It is proof of general negligence by circumstantial evidence. Something must have gone wrong and that something is negligent.

Some jurisdictions, insist that you bring only specific instruction when you have specific evidence. Some jurisdictions let you elect between specific instruction and res ipsa instruction. Some jurisdictions might let you present both. 10/20/2005, 9:38 AM

Pigs and Acorns

This is how we spend a chunk of class time everyday:

Professor’s provide hypothetical situations (hypos) and then ask questions about them. But they ask a specific student to answer the question. There’s only one possibility of this going well. The student has to be

1. Well prepared – read and studied all class material AND


2. Intelligent – or at least thoughtful enough to apply the material to a new set of circumstances AND

The professor must also decide not to stick with the person too long.

There are about twenty ways that this can go wrong. Simply, you can have a brilliant student, who just doesn’t know the material well enough to contort it and apply it to the hypo. Or maybe the guy has studied his ass off, but he just can’t walk up the spiral staircase without a light on. I only wish these were the most common ways that it goes wrong. More likely, the guy is surfing the internet and doesn’t even hear the hypo and has to guess. Even more likely, he will guess wrong and then the professor will allow him to go down the wrong path for five or ten minutes until it is so painfully obvious that the class is laughing at the outrageous far reaching implications of the student’s original answer. Sometimes, the professor will just keep going and going until it is clear that there is no right answer. I’m not sure what you’re supposed to say in that situation, but this week one student said, “That’s a good question” which seemed like a reasonable response to me, but the professor shot back, “Thank you. Even a blind pig finds an acorn every now and then.” This of course brought on a bought of laughter. So I guess we laugh a lot in law school, especially in contracts, but I’m not sure that we aren’t laughing at ourselves and each other.

Really I just wrote this whole blog so that I could share the “Even a blind pig finds an acorn every now and then” statement. But I think I worked it in quite well. Picture above is of my contracts class. I am going to try to recommit myself to daily blogging even if it’s short.

A week ago Saturday, a headache started to develop. It has been getting steadily worse, with increased snottiness and puffy eyes today. I don't understand why I am sick, since I am no longer a teacher. My head feels like it is going to explode.

Above, Molly scratched through the wires on her cage to the window sill and wall beyond. What was she thinking?
A. If I scratch through the wall, the wires on the cage will miraculously disappear?
B. I'm going to get to that squirrel outside. I'm going to get to that squirrel outside.
C. This will show mom not to put my cage by the window, the wall, or anything else.
D. I know I'm in here because I chewed a lot of stuff up, but I'll show mom I can be just as destructive inside the cage.

There's a New Blog in Town

Last week, on the way to Quinton's, Patrick didn't even know what a blog was and when we tried to explain it to him, he said, "Oh, so they've taken something as impersonal as e-mail and made it even more impersonal?" It made me think, but not that hard.

This week, Patrick, acting as unofficial social chair for section 2, let us all know that section 1 has begun a blog for all the 1L's. So, if you are really bored and you want to go check it out, click here. Then if you are still bored, you can look in the comments section and check out some of the other blogs from other MU Law students. To be honest, I don't know who many of those people are, as they seem to be in section 1, and I am in section 2. But I was working hard enough on avoiding reading my contracts that I checked a few of them out.

I can't believe that FRD is at Bradford Woods. I think it was in the fall of 1999 that I went to Bradford Woods while I was doing my student teaching with Rise. And now FRD is there with her. I can't believe I am missing his sixth grade year. I feel so disconnected. Right now I am sitting in a big lecture hall, waiting for class to begin, again avoiding my contracts readings and he is in the woods, maybe learning how to make a shelter. And many of the rest of you are in your classrooms. If I was there, we would be walking down to the art room right now. (Does everybody really walk on the right side of the hallway now?) Some kid would say something to make me smile or take my hand. I miss spending my days with kids, and sometimes I wonder if that loss is at the heart of a lingering sadness that has been stalking me these past few weeks.

Contracts Beware

Warning to the reader – although this starts as a reasoned and sensible diatribe about my perceived differences between torts and contacts, it quickly digresses into a rant of ridiculous proportions that should be taken with the large grain of salt that rubs my open wounds from hours and hours of reading, studying, living and breathing law school.

In torts we have focused on the intentional torts. These are things like assault, battery, trespass to chattels, trespass to land, and false imprisonment. There is a pretty clear cut rule that lets you know whether something is or is not one of these torts. For example, in most false imprisonment the plaintiff must show that (1) the defendant intended to confine him, (2) the plaintiff was conscious of the confinement, (3) the plaintiff did not consent to the confinement and (4) the confinement was not otherwise privileged. Now, there are some slippery things in there. Like what does it mean to INTEND to confine someone? But there is a nice little rule for that too. Intent to confine just means that (1) the defendant acted with the purpose of confining him or (2) the defendant knew with substantial certainty that the confinement would result. If it comes down to trying to determine whether the plaintiff “knew with substantial certainty,” there are two tests that you can do: (1) the subjective test – did this person know with substantial certainty or (2) the objective test – would a reasonable person in the defendant’s position know with substantial certainty. Boom. It’s just like this little tree of logic that you follow out on different branches. It makes sense. Then you are thrown these hypos and you just climb the tree in the direction that is necessary.

Contracts, on the other hand, purports to have the little rules, and the little explanations, and the little branching, but it is really not like that. But instead, some of the rules and explanations just don’t make sense in terms of actual people interacting. Just to make a contract we have to have consideration, offer, and acceptance. And then there are all these weird oddities. Like, was that really an offer? Did both parties assent? For example, one guy made an offer to sell his house as a joke, and told his wife that he was joking. But the other guy believed him, so he was held to have made that offer. Even though he didn’t mentally assent to it, he didn’t make it clear. In another case, the company sent an offer, saying that the agreement would become a contract upon approval by their management. The other company signed their agreement. They were not notified, so they assumed that there was no contract. Oh but wait, the first company did not have to notify them because even though it seemed like they had made the offer, it was really the second company that made the offer, because there was still something the first company had to do (approval of manager) before it became a contract. Therefore, the second company somehow made an “offer” that had the terms in it that the first company did NOT have to notify them, because it clearly stated that it would become a contract upon the approval of the manager – not the approval of the manager and the notification to the second company. Watch it when you sign some company’s forms, you may think you are accepting an offer, but you may really be making an offer with their terms. Or here’s a great one. Person a telegrams person owner of bumper hall: “”Will you sell us Bumper Hall Pen? Telegraph lowest cash price – answer paid.” The owner of Bumper Hall Pen sends by telegram the following reply “Lowest price for Bumper Hall Pen £900.” Seems like an offer eh? Nope. Because the owner only answered the second question – “lowest price” and not the first question “will you sell us Bumper Hall Pen?” Just one more – a man offers to sell his land in a letter. At the end of the letter he writes, “This offer to be kept open until Friday.” Then he sells the land to somebody else before Friday. That little promise at the end of the letter is what we call a nudum pactum – that is a NAKED promise, a promise that is not legally enforceable. It is not enforceable because he received nothing in consideration for his promise. Thus, if the guy had given him five bucks to keep the offer open, it would have been a fine and dandy and legally enforceable contract. I could go on and on. I don’t do well when something flies in the face of what seems to be right and just. Maybe I just don’t understand the rules well enough, but it seems like there is a lot of trickiness involved and when non-lawyer types are making their contracts they wouldn’t seem to be aware of all these rules and sub rules and so on and so forth. So – be careful what you sign. If it looks legal it probably is.

Signing off from the land of law---

It's Anne. . . again.

Speaker's Circle

Out the back door of the law school, positioned directly on the walk to the Hitt Street Garage, is an amazing circle. It’s called “Speaker’s Circle” and because of its design, when you speak in the center, your voice can be heard quite clearly for some distance. Since the beginning of school, though, the only voices that have been heard are those of some cultish right wing religious group. (Although my friend the Mormon argues that they are not right wing conservative, I will continue identifying them in this way until I feel otherwise – it being my blog and all). Their preaching reaches far beyond what I consider to be appropriate in normal society. They preach the gospel of hate and intolerance. Sadly, they arrive each day, children in tow, to criticize, ridicule and in other ways demonstrate their intolerance. I find it repulsive. They monopolize an open forum and invade my sense of space and tranquility. On Wednesday I participated in a fabulous mindful mediation group (this law school is truly like no other) and try as I might to concentrate on my breathing, I found the screaming and yelling from the speaker’s circle both distracting and blood boiling.

A few days ago a 2L sent around an e-mail suggesting that perhaps the group’s time of domination should come to an end. Because it was a public space, we could just use it to speak of what was on our mind. I immediately predicted that it would turn into a counter protest and e-mailed my concerns to the 2L. I suggested making sure that we had a focus and clarity to our time in the speaker’s circle to use it in a meaningful but non-responsive way to the preachers. I thought that reading critical literacy books might be such an approach. The 2L invited me to do so.

I arrived shortly after CivPro, Freedom Summer packed snugly into my backpack. I walked out into chaos. I took pictures with my cell phone, but they have not arrived in my inbox yet. The “separate” demonstration had in fact become a counter demonstration. The law students and others stood with their signs, blocking the preacher as he screamed red face beyond them. The religious right reveled in the increased attention, and the law students protested that this is not what they wanted, nor intended. I was disappointed and didn’t even move to join, but stood on the sidelines and watched as an attempt to promote something different turned into just more attention for the same. Slowly, small groups led different discussions, trying to focus on healthcare or education, but the power came from the response to the religious right, not the new speakers.

A friend uncovered that the fanatical group is actually paid to be there by, some sort of wacko conservative group. They travel from campus to campus, inciting the standard brand of intolerance. Although we will be left with out resident preacher, the group will be traveling on next week, coming to a campus near you. My apologies.

I was happy to end this long four day week with a happy hour beer with new friends and good conversation.

Bits and Pieces

Am I the only one apprehensive about W appointing two Supreme Court Justices?

Mike was here for the second weekend in a row, and now we begin another three week hiatus.

My Uncle Jim and Aunt Janice arrived today for a short visit.

I wonder about and miss the kids that were in my classroom last year.

I see the footage from New Orleans and wonder if there is a penny chart, marking off collected money in the hallways of Templeton.

Life peeks it's head between Pennoyer v. Neff, the subjective test for Intent in an intentional tort, the assent of an offer, and the ALWD Legal Citation Manual. I find that I am too busy to nuture this peek at life and it recedes, undernourished, into the recesses of my law school existance.

I ponder the next several days of reading and notetaking, cases and tests of law, and wonder if my law school life is worthy of even unlimited blogging space.

You know youre a first year law student if

You know you’re a first year law student if:

• You find yourself using the term “chattel” multiple times each day.


• You find yourself watching Judging Amy and questioning the procedural rules of the courtroom instead of obsessing about who Amy is dating.


• You’re sitting with other students at lunch and one announces, with neither embarrassment nor shame, that she is a “staunch conservative republican” who doesn’t believe in any of that “welfare to work crap”, and you are the only one who nearly chokes on her food.


• You have a shortcut on your keyboard for the § symbol.


• You can’t imagine being anywhere without your laptop computer, and find yourself surprised that there is not wireless access everywhere.


• You find yourself thinking of arguments in terms of person one v. person two.


• You write your blog all the time in your head, but you can’t find the five minutes to type it in and click on “publish this post.”

I should have bought a DELL

Today, right before my Contracts class, I realized my battery in my laptop was almost dead. I did, what I do almost every day, and flipped the computer to swap the batteries out. When I put the other battery in, the latch that moves aside did not pop back. Thank goodness the computer still works, but now I can’t get the battery out.

When I got home, my dad and I looked at it, and neither of us could get the latch to move. So I went online to HP support. I found the exact problem, labeled Customer Solution 6692. Unfortunately, it said after that to contact HP. So I went to the ‘speak with an online technician’ section and waited 15 minutes for someone to respond.

When Shirley finally answered my chat request, I explained the problem also including the customer solution 6692 number. After several minutes she said that she would help me. After several more minutes she sent me a text message that said to go look at the support manual pages 113-114. I did so, in less time then it took for her to respond to me. And there on page 113 and 114 were the directions for changing the battery. Since I had now been waiting over ten minutes for this “help,” with all the kindness I could muster, I sent a text to her letting her know that I KNEW how to change the battery. I reminded her that I was requesting help because the latch was stuck and the battery wouldn’t come out – again, customer support 6692.

Again, there was a long wait.

Shirley: Try to push the latch back.
Me: I’ve already tried that. It won’t budge.
[FIVE MINUTE PAUSE]
Shirley: Anne, please try to push it back again.
Me: Ok
Me: Still doesn’t work.

After another five minutes, Shirley told me I would have to send the computer in. I let Shirley know that I was in my first week of LAW SCHOOL and that was not acceptable. I also told Shirley that I should have purchased a Dell. Shirley was nice. She told me that I could take it to a customer support center – RadioShack. Then Shirley asked if she had helped me. We had been chatting for over half an hour! I could not tell a lie, but I tried to be very nice about it.

Next I called Radio Shack who assured me they could help. I jumped in the car and rushed there before they closed. When I got there I was greeted by two guys who didn’t look much out of high school, in fact I’m not sure they were. They fiddled with the latch, much in the same way my father and I had and then told me they weren’t any sort of official support center and there was nothing they could do to help. They sent me to Best Buy.

At Best Buy, the guy really wanted to take a screwdriver to the battery, but refrained. He was very sympathetic and supportive, but really said there wasn’t anything he could do.

So I went home and checked HP website, where I determined that both Radio Shack and Best Buy were listed as support centers. HA! Then I found the phone number and dialed old HP up on the old fashioned telephone. I have been on hold with HP for nearly an hour now.

A fellow named James has finally answered my call. He is in India! I wonder what will happen?

Top Ten Things I Learned

Top Ten Things I Learned in the First 2 Days of Law School

1. We are learning process, so that we can apply it, because there is NO WAY that one could learn all of the law.

1. If there are some boys on the roof of a shed on a person’s property and that person throws a stick, intending to hit one of them, and it hits a different child, (causing him to lose eyesight in one eye), the person can be held liable, even though he didn’t intend to hit that particular child.

1. There is enough reading to keep you busy every day, all day and it is not easy reading either

1. A five year old child can be held liable for torts such as battery, as long as it can be shown that he has substantial knowledge that his action could result in harm.

1. There is no possible way to unpack your apartment in the evenings during the first week of law school.

1. An insane woman who beats her caretaker can be held liable for her tort of battery

1. In contract law, punitive damages are not awarded, because they might actually deter people from breaching contracts which through their breach may cause a net gain for one of the parties.

1. There is an entirely different process of citing references than that used in the rest of the academic world. For example a citation of 276 F. 245 (8th Cir 1921) means the particular case can be found in Volume 276 of the Federal Supplement on page 245 and the case was heard in the eight circuit in 1921. At least I think that’s what it means – I’m really just learning.

1. Most lawyers write more pages than novelists.

And the number one thing I have learned in the first two days of law school is if you are going to be carrying a backpack full of law books and a laptop computer on a five-ten minute hike back and forth to the parking garage and up and down six flights of stairs, DO NOT wear new shoes that MAY give you a blister.

Tomorrow my body will be at law school, but my mind and my heart will be at Templeton where they are having their first day of school.

Mission: Law School Orientation

Completed.  It feels like a teacher conference week.  There was so much important, excellent information, but by the end I was on information overload.  I truly feel changed after four days of law school orientation.  I suppose that change is a really important part of the process.  I see second year students, and there is clearly this difference in them that makes them seem more lawyerly.  It is interesting to go through the process and know that that change is the goal and that I will experience it, but trying to be cognizant and reflective about it at the same time.  On some level, it makes sense.  The point is to take students (often starting out at 22 years old) and turn them into lawyers in three years.

So here are two points of the enculturation process that we have been told (explicitly or implicitly) this week.  I include them because they each effect me very differently.  On the first point, I mostly think it is a bunch of hooey, so the enculturation process was not very successful.  Of course, I carry the bias of my feelings about standardized tests and traditional grading with me.  On the second point, I do feel moved and filled with the importance of my newest endeavor.  

1. We are the best and brightest.  It used to be that it was very easy to get into law school, but then one out of three people wouldn’t make it.  Now, it is difficult to get in, but once you are there you will probably complete the process.  At MU, for our class of 152, they had over 1000 applications, which by my math means that about 15% of applicants are admitted.  Among our class of 152, the average undergraduate GPA is 3.51 and the average LSAT score is 158.  So how do I fit in?  My undergraduate GPA was 2.58 (although that was ten years ago and I have a 3.7 Graduate GPA that they DO NOT count) and I scored a 168 (97th percentile) on the LSATs. So on the one hand, there stats do make it seem like we are the best and the brightest.  On the other hand, after spending a week with some of these people, I am a little worried if they are the best and the brightest.  Although I am truly trying not to be too judgmental, there are people that said and did things this week that made me wonder how in the world they got to be here.  Although, to give them the benefit of the doubt, many of these people are also very young.  Wow, now I am really sounding judgmental, I better move on to the next point.


2. We heard a lot about the purpose of lawyers in society and the importance as a lawyer of not involving yourself directly in your client’s conflict.  There were some powerful speeches about how, despite all the lawyer jokes, people come to lawyers when the worst thing in their life has happened.  Whether it is a divorce or a murder charge, usually before they start therapy, they come to a lawyer for help in solving their problem.  They need somebody to guide them through the incredibly complicated conflict resolution process in this country and there is a lot of responsibility in doing that in a professional manner.  We will become guides to a very complicated and overwhelming process that people will be encountering at a time when they are emotionally not at their best.  On the one hand, when I write this, it sounds kind of dorky, especially knowing all the stories of crappy lawyers, some of which I have dealt directly with.  On the other hand, I already feel passion and belief in the importance of what I am going to do.  I suppose that is part of the process.

We also learned a lot this week about the law, how it fits into society, and how to start to tease the nuances of it apart.  This was very exciting to me.  I remember when Gene was going through his custody battle with Becky, when I was trying to understand the process that Billie was going through, and when I was trying to grapple with the legalese of FRD being able to live with me despite me not being his bio-parent.  At each of these times, I read cases and statutes and, on my own, tried to tease apart the distinctions and understand how a particular judge might rule.  During these times of my life, I enjoyed the intellectual stimulation from this type of Socratic thinking at times to the neglect of the other things I should have been working on.  Before orientation, I thought that this passion and excitement for the nuances of the law was limited to these particular issues as an outgrowth of my passion for them.  Now, I am beginning to discover that it is the process of this that I love.  I actually come home and want to spend my time reading, briefing, and researching the cases.  It is early, so I dare not say more for fear of jinxing the next several years.

I have also spent a lot of time this week people watching.  It is fascinating to watch as these 152 people get to know each other.  I have been told that law school is emotionally like high school and intellectually like graduate school.  Thus far, I have found this to be true.  I mean, we have lockers, shared study carrels, and we share all the same classes with 76 people.  Different little groups have formed and reformed over the week.  I have kind of floated amongst different people, making lots of acquaintances, but not any friends as of yet.  As I ask to sit or work with different groups, I get mixed reactions.  Some people are friendly and outgoing and others are exclusive and rude (one girl rolled her eyes at her friend when I made a joke—and come on, I’m funny!) A lot of the students are a decade younger than me, which makes me feel very middle age, but there are a few that are closer to my age and I am trying not to focus on age differences as it would be to depressing.

Orientation week completed.  Classes start on Monday.  I have a plethora of assignments for the first day and an apartment that still has not been unpacked.  With that, I head into the weekend.

From Bagging Kit Kats to Being a Human Lawyer

At the foodbank, after we donned our hairnets and latex gloves, we stood around tables in groups of four to six and rebagged mounds and mounds of Kit Kats into small bags and closed them with twist ties. I think the KitKats were rejected -- anybody remember that Apprentice where they tried to make candy bars and had to throw them away if they weren't perfect? 67 of us did this for two hours. That is a LOT of Kit Kats. When I first arrived, I started at a table with a professor and some other students. Later I found out he was the Dean of the Law School, and I was frankly impressed that he was attending the event. I do wonder why the other 83 students did not attend.

After the food bank project, we reconvened at the Law School and the lawyer enculturation began. (I'm not sure if that's a word). Basically, from the beginning, they talked about how special we were, how there were 1000 applications and we were the ones that were picked. Then we did a lot of bureaucratic stuff and checked out the student organizations.

In the afternoon we watched "To Kill a Mockingbird" and three of the law professors shared their thoughts about the importance of it. I was really moved by the movie and their brief talks, so I will share a few of their points. This is just my interpretation of some of what they said:

*Atticus Finch is a hero because he is a decent person who stands up for his values, not because he is a good lawyer.
*The production of this movie, in 1962, was very much about current affairs, even though it referred to events in the 1930s.
*The primary flaws in the United States law system are the laws related to race.
*At the end of the movie, when Atticus decides to let the law go, so that Boo can go free, he chooses to be human instead of a lawyer.
*We were humans before entering law school, and we need to make sure that we keep hold of our humanity as we become lawyers.
*We will very often find ourselves in conflict between making the human choice and making the lawyer choice.

Which makes me think about how I ask kids to think about conflict in the classroom. It really is much of the same thing. The law will, at times, be in conflict of what I think is right. By being aware of this conflict and keeping this balance at the front of my consciousness, I will be a better lawyer and a better person. I think maybe some of this needs to settle a little more, as it doesn't quite say what I'm thinking.

Tomorrow we learn how to use a Law Library, which apparently is a lot more complicated than your everyday library.

Molly's Bad Day; Law School Orientation Tomorrow

My dad is convinced that since he trained the squirrels to eat by the door, he can train Molly not to slam her face into the glass window while they're doing it. The squirrels, on the other hand, seem to understand that Molly can not reach them and taunt her endlessly.

Sadly, this post is not as fun to write as I thought it would be when I took the picture. This afternoon, while I was walking Molly, she stepped into a bush and returned with a baby bunny. I ordered her to immediately drop it. She did and the bunny limped up the walkway to my neighbors porch. I pushed Maggie (oblivious) and Molly back into the house and had my mom call the humane society. They said they would take it, so I headed back out with a shoebox. By this time, the bunny had died. I was very sad and, strangely, I was actually angry at Molly. I know logically that she is a dog and that this is just part of her nature, but the bunny was so tiny and soft and sad looking, I felt very protective of it. I keep trying to tell myself that it must have been sick, because it didn't even hop away from her and I also try to tell myself that she didn't mean to kill it, she just wanted to play with it and carry it around like she does her "babies." But neither makes me feel any better. It is sad when something small and soft and snuggly dies and it weighs on me that my Molly was the predator.

---------------------------

Law School Orientation begins tomorrow. We start at the Central Missouri Food Bank doing a volunteer service project. How cool is that? There is no doubt that a law school that begins their orientation with action like this is the right place for me. In the introduction letter, they explain the choice to begin orientation like this as "an effort to emphasize the importance the School of Law places on service to others."

My first questions: How many law schools do this? How did it start? How many of the 150 new Law students will show up for this non-mandatory part of the orientation? What faculty will be there? Will we do more service projects throughout the year?

After the food bank, it looks like there will be some introduction speeches and a lot of bureaucratic stuff. Student photos for the law school student facesheet should be fun with my eye just as red as it was two days ago. Then in the afternoon we watch and discuss "To Kill a Mockingbird."

I'm nervous and excited. Sometimes, when I think of everybody setting up their classrooms and how comfortable and content I would be there, I wonder why I am doing this big scary new thing. I will meet 150+ people tomorrow, people that I will learn and grow with over the next three years. Since patience isn't my strength, I am desperate to know how all this will work out over the next semester. What will my impressions of law school be in four months? How will I change and will I be able to keep the all important passionate parts of myself?

Can't See the Car For the Tree

Thunder and lightening end the drought with such efficiency that water with no place to go swims by my basement door carrying the birdseed towards the wood pile. The wind pulls the leaves from the trees and whisks them throughout the yard. I am safe and warm and working on unpacking bags full of clothes, trying to decide what to do with packing wrinkles. The phone rings.

Dad: Pauline [our neighbor] just called. She said a tree fell in the front yard. She thought it hit one of our cars, but it's no where near the Honda. Thank goodness.

I rush to the front window to see.

Me: Uh Dad, where do you think my car was parked?

Dad: Hmm. Where is your car?

Me: Dad, I think it might be under that tree.

Dad: Oh shit. I guess Pauline was right, it did hit a car. I forgot all about your car.

Miraculously, my car survives with only a few dents and bruises, no broken glass, and the tree is removed by early evening.

Two Days Post Operation

Today is another down in the dump days. My dad says that it has something to do with post operative hormones, but basically it just sucks. I feel like I can't do anything because it hurts when I move my head, and I have so much to do. Also, everything about how I see has changed. I continue to be concerned that there has been an over correction, but really I won't know for sure for six weeks. The swelling and redness and light sensitivity continue, and the redness has actually gotten worse. My vision is a little fuzzy today, probably because there is some increased swelling. Also, it seems like there are two layers on everything. It takes me way to long to turn my head. I hope that today will hurry and be over so tomorrow can be a better day.

The Day After

Surgery sucks. The only good thing, I suppose is that I have slept more than I can remember in the last 24 hours. So here was the ordeal. I arrived at the outpatient surgery center at 7:15 am. They took me back to a room where my eye doctor came back and wrote his initials in permanent marker over my right eye. Later my dad told me he was very relieved that he did that because when the two of them were chatting about the surgery last month (they are friends), the eye doctor kept talking about my left eye. Then a nurse directed me to take ALL my clothes off and put on their silly hospital gown. Yes, I did ask why I had to take all my clothes off for surgery on my eye and I was not overly relieved when I found out it was so they would have good access to my body if anything went wrong during the time I was under.

After some time, an anesthesiologist came in to start my IV. OUCH! My dad tried to make me feel better once again by letting me know that they use BIG IVs during surgery because if they need good access they want to have it. No, that didn't make me nervous. Then they pumped my arm full of cold water, which they said wasn't really cold, just room temperature. . . but it felt cold to me. My dad, sharing stories about all his IVs made some mention of the feeling of Demerol through an IV, to which the anesthesiologist responded, "We start to worry about people when they ask for the Demerol," When he left the room, I asked my dad to please say something doctor like so the guy did not think he was a drug addict. He just laughed at me.

Well after some time, where my stomach started to get all tingly with nerves, a resident came in with a med student. She asked me to look in all sorts of different directions, while the med student stood behind her and looked interested in whatever it is that my eyes do. Actually, the med student just looked nervous and confused which didn't make me feel that much better except that I knew that Dr. G was going to actually do my surgery.

Finally the nurse came in to walk me back to the operating room. As we got settled in the room, she said something about recognizing my dad. I climbed up on the bed, and the anesthesiologist asked if she knew him because he had had a lot of surgeries. I saw my moment and let him know that he was a doctor in the building. After a slight pause and a half laugh, the anesthesiologist said, "I guess I shouldn't have made that comment about the Demerol." We all laughed.

The female nurse told me to start thinking of a happy dream, while she lowered the oxygen mask over my face. Then the male nurse with the advertisement on his cap started telling everybody about the dream he had last night. The last thing I remember was the nice female nurse whispering in my ear, "Honey, you think of your own dream."

The next thing I knew, they were telling me it was all over and it was time to wake up. I tried to open my eyes, but the pain was excruciating. Then I started having dry heaves and/or vomiting. Somebody told me that was very common with eye muscle surgery, which didn't make my stomach, my throat, or my head feel any better. For the next while, I kept fading in and out, between moments of heaves. Every time I tried to open my eyes, they were blurry and I got sick again. It was very disconcerting, and I was a lot frightened that something had gone wrong.

The next couple of hours is a blur, but at some point, they moved me to level 2, where my mom and dad came in. They thought I was sleeping, but really I just still couldn't open my eyes. Dr. G came in at some point. When he asked how I was doing, I told him I couldn't open my eyes. "Sure you can," he said and pried them open. Apparently my communication skills were not at full function at that moment, because what I should have said was that I could open my eyes, but the pain was too excruciating. So there I sat, feeling as though somebody was running a metal file across the underside of my right eye, and Dr. G wanted to know if I was seeing double. I felt more like I was seeing triple, and every time my right eye moved it felt as though I was being stabbed with a rusty fork. I suppose he left, and other people came and went and time passed as I fell in and out of sleep.

At one point, they decided that I should get up, move to a chair, and then go home, seeing as it is SAME day surgery. So that sat me up and I started having the dry heaves all over again. Let me tell you, there is nothing worse than the dry heaves. I hate them. And to have the dry heaves and a moment when every time I moved my head it felt like needles where being shoved into my eyes just makes it worse. So, my eyes started to water, like they do when you heave like that. Only after eye surgery, water isn't the liquid that comes out. That's right, I sat there in the hospital bed, dry heaving, with tears of blood dripping down my cheeks. If only my mom had brought the video camera. After moments of this, I decided it would be better if I lay back down, with no firm commitments to get up in the near future.

I slept a while longer and then decided I wanted the IV out and wanted to go home. Somehow I thought I might feel better if I could get out of the hospital. So, up I sat again and this time it was a lot better. They moved me to a chair, my mom helped me get dressed, and after donning a pair of sunglasses they wheeled me out. I have to tell you, that I didn't open my eyes during this whole thing, and it was very bothersome to not see while doing this. I still had this fear that something was very wrong. On the way out, Dr. G, popped out from nowhere and held a purple pen in front of my face. He made me open my eyes again, and pointed out that the tilt in my head was gone. Yes, I thought, but it has been replaced by excruciating pain every time I open my eyes or move my head in any direction. But I thanked him anyway.

I kept my eyes closed during the drive home and then promptly went back to sleep when I got home. I slept off and on throughout the day, while my mom -- chief nurse extraordinaire -- took care of Molly and Maggie and popped in regularly to remind me to drink lots of fluid. The only time she and I had a disagreement was when she insisted that we pry my right eye open to insert the necessary drops. I have to ask who devised such torture as putting drops in an eye they same day it has been slit open, pulled apart, and the muscles have been cut.

As the day went on, my eye started to feel a lot better, which simply meant that the pain was now downgraded to unbearably miserable. For example, it began to feel like the inside of my eye was only coated with sandpaper. When I moved my head, there was not as much double vision, but if I moved my eyes, everything was all out of whack.

My dad came home in the evening and we sat in a dark room. I reminded him that the physicians assistant from the previous day had said some people would be up and normal by the afternoon. He reminded me that when they send people home, they don't really know. He felt that everything that was happening was normal. He explained that the pain in the eye was because of the stitches and the swelling, not from the cutting of the muscles and that it should get slowly better over the next few days. I found that very reassuring.

So, I went back to sleep and slept through the night. This morning and afternoon, I am much more able to open my right eye. My head does seem to be a lot more straight then it used to and I can see without double vision when I move my head to the right. However, if I move my eyes without my head, I still feel very disoriented and everything goes haywire. Also, when I move my head to the left (used to be my good side) I have slight double vision. I don't know if this means there has been an overcorrection, or if it is just a temporary thing. It still hurts inside my eye quite a bit and things are blurry and I see halos because of all the gook and blood in there.

I don't really feel like I can do much because I get a headache when I move around and I can't read either, but I can't sleep anymore either, which leaves me with that awful cabin fever feeling. It makes me feel kind of down in the dumps. I'm trying to remember that it is going to get better by leaps and bounds in the next few days and weeks and that I just need to be patient, which is unfortunately not one of my best virtues.

The Apartment, The Law Books, and The Eye Surgery

Yesterday, I put together my new desk. I was surprised and a little disappointed that the directions did not include words. That is, there were lots of pictures, but no words to explain what I was to do. Why wouldn't they have words? On one page, the picture had three circled items with complicated enlarged diagrams to demonstrate what could have been said in the simple sentence, "Be sure the unfinished edge is facing up and there is a 1/16 inch space around the outside."

Setting up this apartment is taking more energy than I thought. I'm buried in boxes, swimming in furniture, and still living out of a suitcase. I can't seem to get everything to fit. The bedroom is the size of a bowling ally (long and narrow) and the kitchen is the size of a closet. And unless I consider storing the food and dishes in the bedroom, it doesn't really work for me. Already in the "bedroom," beyond the bed, is a loveseat, recliner, exercise equipment, musical instruments, a desk, TV, and a bookshelf and there is still plenty of room. I feel like I just keep moving boxes around, but nothing is actually getting unpacked. Sadly, I am feeling the crunch of time and really feel like I need the apartment to be functional by the time orientation starts next week.

I bought my books yesterday. The bill was just under $600. I went to the law school booksale, but only found two books there. I had to get the rest of the books from the University Bookstore, where I also got my student id. I passed several students who will be in my cohort, as we all carried the same pinkish book list around with us, but didn't really meet anyone yet. I suppose that will happen next week during orientation. In the law school building I overheard a second year student (we call them 2L) talking to a first year student (1L). The 1L was asking about what extra books and study guides to buy. The 2L responded, "Don't buy any of that stuff now. Basically, you're going to have no idea what is going on for the first several months, so there is sense in spending the extra money. I mean you've never done anything like this, it's going to be like a whole new universe." I waver between feeling that the 2L was torturing him and feeling very afraid that I have gotten in way over my head. I should have some idea soon as I already have an assignment due for the first day of my Civil Procedure Class.

Tomorrow I have surgery on my eye to weaken one of my muscles to compensate for a weak muscle on the other side. It seemed a little backwards to me that they are planning to cut a muscle to make another muscle seem stronger. I am a little excited and a little freaked out about the whole thing. I can't imagine that my whole way of seeing the world will literally be changed tomorrow. This muscle weakness is a congenital condition, and my way of compensating for it has been to hold my head at a slight tilt. This tilt has caused numerous muscular problems in my neck and shoulders. Also, when I'm tired, I see double anyway (as anybody whose been in a car with me at night knows) and I can't look to my left or lay on my right side without seeing double. Now, if all goes well, the tilt will be gone and I will not have double vision anymore. I can't even imagine being able to hold my head straight without struggling to achieve binocular vision.

Look What I found!

It started when I was sorting children, having them move to different parts of the room based on some classifying part. For example, I might have kids who like pizza the best stand by the closets, kids who like mac and cheese the best stand by the tables, and kids that like something else entirely stand by the door. Kids loved it, it gave them a chance to move, and there are a slew of other brain compatible reasons for doing it. So, once, on a whim, I had kids move to the two sides of the room based on whether their shirts were dark or light.

The first time, I was slightly amused that all the girls were on one half of the room and all the boys were on the other half. The second time, I wondered about it. And by the third time I, as well as the entire class was curious beyond belief. That was nearly five years ago. So of course we studied the phenomenon. And as a class, we came up with a lot more questions and a few realizations.

Here are some of the realizations of that first year. They apply only to first through third graders with an average clothing size of 8-10.

With only rare exceptions, most:

1. Girl shirts can be classified as light in color.
2. Boy shirts can be classified as dark in color.

3. When girl shirts are darker in color, they always have other traditionally female type components such as flowers, embroidery, cupped sleeves, scalloped necks, etc.

If you are completely lost, at this point, take a break and go to ANY store. Shop for general clothing for a boy or girl in size 8-10. Sears is the worst and Old Navy is the best, in my opinion. At least at Old Navy you can buy plain t-shirts. But it isn’t great anywhere, believe me -- I've looked.

In the next year, the students and I began a search for a PLAIN navy blue size 8-10 girls t-shirt or a PLAIN pink boys size 8-10 shirt. With the assistance of my students, I have been searching for these items for over three years now. And although we have found blue shirts for girls, they always have had "girl" components that keep them from being plain. The only pink shirts for boys we have uncovered have come from a fifth grader in Mr. C's class who came and talked to us very eloquently about why he choose to wear pink. Unfortunately, we had to disqualify the shirt, because it was NOT size 8-10.

The unavailability of these colors in these sizes, as well as the more general, but less quantifiable, impression that girls and boys clothes, especially in the sizes generally associated with the development of so many sex based perceptions, was fodder for debate off and on throughout the next several years. Like many multi-year projects, it was always laying in the back of collective classroom identity, brought forth on many occasions, and sparked by pictures of boys and girls in picture books, particular gender based clothing choices of the occupants of our community, or just remembered and shared with others as it occurred to them.

The first few years, we were mostly collecting data, observing, connecting, and questioning. Why were their signs in the stores separating the "boys" clothes from the "girls" clothes? (In later years, a student actually compared this with the Jim Crow Laws, saying that the segregation of the sale of clothes made it so many girls were not allowed to shop in boys departments and visa versa by way of signs.) Who decided the colors, the styles, and which gender got them? Where the differences in the clothes in the stores the reflection of the parents desires, the children's desires, or the clothing industry's decision of how boys and girls should be represented? Clothing color and style effected us regularly.

Once, two years ago, a boy asked to wear a girls pink jacket. Prompted by teasing on the playground, we took a writer's walk around the building, recording other's reaction to him. As other students believed we were simply recording sights and smells and sounds, we noticed laughter and snickering, pointing and under-breath comments in every single classroom we approached. Another teacher even pulled me aside, laughing, to ask me why he was wearing pink.

This past year, our investigation reached an all time fury of activity. Kids started turning beyond questioning and on to action. The whole thing seemed so deeply rooted, so much a part of everything, that students were lost at first for a way to make a difference. And then many of them decided to make the difference in the only they could: one child at a time, one outfit at a time. There were girls in dark shirts, and a few boys in light colors. Several girls borrowed their brother's clothing and then made a point of sharing how others had reacted to it outside of our classroom. The idea behind this pseudo cross dressing was to make it more common, one child at a time, and therefore less outrageous. If it was more accepted, again one child at a time, then the clothing industry would begin to offer more non-gender-based choices. This was a child's interpretation and implementation of a grassroots campaign based on changing one own's action to implement change in the larger community.

Advertising campaigns were developed with thought provoking questions such as "Who decided what you wear? The clothing industry? Your parents? Or you?" This was based on the discovery of some children that their own parents were not supportive of their desire to shop or wear clothing that was designated for the other sex. Mind you, wewere primarily talking colors here. For example, a dark green shirt with a dinosaur on a girl. Or even a plain pink shirt on a boy and a plain navy blue shirt on a girl. Something we still couldn't find.

The effect was transformational. Each child reacted in their own way, at their own level. The change was more profound in the girls, I believe because it was more accepted by parents and because girls were more outraged by the history of limitations in girls clothing and driven by their desire to not be limited to all the connotations of today’s sex driven culture. This summer,

I was happy to hear from a former parent that I was not the only one who continued to be affected by this ongoing study. She says, "XXXX is still very dedicated to her gender issues and won't let me buy her anything that looks too girly. I am so glad that she had you for that year, and the gender exploration has been a huge part of what I am so thankful for. I feel like it is so easy for girls to get sucked into that "girl culture" that has been marketed at them and I feel like it makes them stop exploring life in order to constantly examine the image they are creating. I am hoping that this will give her some ammunition for the years ahead."

And I, as continuous inquirer, have also been unable to let this one go. I have, in spurts and moments, in stores across Florida, to just happen by the children's section, looking for that pink or blue shirt.

And that's how I found it.
In the Orlando Wal-Mart Superstore.
The day before my departure.

I was wasting time I didn't have, walking through the boys department when I found it hanging beside button downs in boy colored blue. I bought it so you have a size 8-10 boy who will wear it, or would like to use it in your classroom, just let me know. First I looked for it at Wal-mart.com, but it was not there.

Perhaps it was a fluke, but I choose to believe that a small classroom in Bloomington, IN somehow made a difference that is finally showing up on the shelves. Only time will tell. Time, and more grassroots efforts to de-genderalize our children's clothing, allowing them the choice to dress in ways that reflect their personalities instead of their gender.

Bye Bye Orlando

My life of the past two months is snuggled in the back of a too small station wagon, and I am surprised that enough stuff to fill a sixteen foot truck still awaits me in Missouri. Maggie and Molly are confused and anxious, wondering where we are off to now. Molly keeps following me around with her pink baby, asking with her milky brown eyes, "Where did George go?" (He's already been shipped off to Camp Michele, while Mike escorts us to Missouri) I've made them a nice seat, atop two dog beds, two feather pillows, and a comforter, but, like me, I imagine they will be squirming and wishing for it to be over within the first five hours of the eighteen hour drive.

I've got Nickled and Dimed, To Kill a Mockingbird, Harry Potter #5 (I know-I'm behind), The Time Patrol, Great Science Fiction Short Novels, A Civil Action, and an IPOD packed full of great driving songs, but I still wish it were tomorrow night and I was already there. We hope to hit the road in the next hour, so my next blog will probably be from Missouri.

Two Days Before Departure

The days slip past quickly now and more of my thoughts have traveled across the country to my soon to be home of Missouri. Allowing my actions to follow, I have begun finding the all important contacts in Columbia, namely a place to get my haircut and a vet for Maggie and Molly. I spent a long time on the phone with Brandi, my Bloomington Hairdresser, trying to convince her to make a house call to Missouri. When that failed, I wrote down in painstaking detail what she has done to my hair for the past decade. Then I made an appointment with a salon, but had to call Brandi back for more specific instructions. Is it daring to have your hair cut at the first new place in fourteen years the week before you begin law school and the day of your student ID picture? I still have not found a vet, and need one soon because Maggie has developed a never healing sore on her back that she chews on constantly. Her vet also declined the invitation for a long distance house call.

In my previously stated effort to keep you informed of the law school developments, I feel obligated to let you know that my books are going to cost $630 from the University Book Store. After cross checking prices on Amazon, I realized that I could save a whopping $27 but would have to wait 2-3 weeks for shipment. There seems to be some noise about a resale of texts at the law school building, so I am waiting to check that out before punching such a large hole in my budget.