Wise Men

John and I were gazing in astonishment at some of the things sold in the Frontgate catalog. On the page next to the $400 cashmere pajamas was a jewelry box the size of a piece of furniture. It included a compartment designed to hold your entire collection of watches.

"Who needs 5 different watches?" I asked.

"Wise man say: He who have one watch always know what time it is. He who have two watch never sure," John responded.

"Are you that wise man?"

"I'm one of the wise men, but not that wise man. There are seven of us."

"Seven?"

"Three of us brought gifts to the baby Jesus, three of us are ZZ Top, and then there's me."

The sun really DOES shine after a B+

although it's not shining today. Fall has rolled into town. Dark clouds hover and threaten rain (but rarely deliver), the temperature has plummeted to the high sixties, and fire places across the neighborhood are roaring. What wimps! The women at the symphony last night wore fur - I saw them with my own two eyes.

It's the kind of weather that makes me want to put on a bulky sweater and thick socks, open up all the windows, crawl under a blanket and read. (Which is a good thing because I have plenty of reading to do!) It reminds me of college when Jen and I shared a small one bedroom apartment. And our late night study sessions which M would join around 9. M always brought decadent treats designed as motivation and reward for making it through the endurance study session. Most of the time, though, we'd end up eating our treats while watching Friends (it was in its heyday) and then falling asleep on our books.

Another fall, another semester of studying. The 'mere 70 pages' we were assigned in week one was no ordinary 70 pages. I had to read each case 5 times before I could figure out who actually won. The topic was jurisdiction and the cases started with Pennoyer v Neff - words said to strike fear into the heart of even veteran lawyers. I started reading Sunday night and by class had read only three of the five case, but the three I did read I meticulously briefed - which turned into its on discouraging fact in a way. The cases I had struggled over, read and re-read, repeatedly consulted the dictionary and law dictionary about our professor summed up in two sentences a piece. The following week was our first exam.

III

Here's a mere tidbit of the exam: "Joe runs a corporation headquartered in South Carolina, though he has sales people across the country. He owns a vacation cottage in California which he sometimes uses for work, but he lives in Road Island. A customer of his bought JoeCompany product in California and is now suing in that state. Does the court there have jurisdiction?"

And so begins the attempt to weed out the uncertainties and apply the case law to the various scenarios that could be created from the multitude of possible resolutions to the different uncertainties. That was a nice sentence, wasn't it? Well, that's what it was like to read these cases, minus the Latin! And if like me, you throw up your hands at some those uncertainties and make some darned assumptions so that there's a chance you can answer the question in less than 6 pages, you get a B+.

And the worst thing is, I knew I was making this mistake WHILE I was doing it. (There's a name for that isn't there?!?!)

So now, for almost a week John has had to listen to the moaning and groaning of a B+ student. It goes something like this:

Deep, guttural, painful moan bellows out of the bedroom. "KK, are you alright?!" John shouts as he makes his way down the hall. And I reply "I AM A B+ STUDENT."

"John, I can't get the TiVO to do what I want. But then again...I AM only a B+ student."

This has gone on for days, but it's lessoning now as we prepare to study NIED. For you non-lawyers out there, that stands for Negligent Infliction of Emotional Duress!

Math to Wow Your Friends - Part 3

There is an island containing two types of people:

knights who always tell the truth and knaves who always lie.

You visit the island and are approached by two natives who speak to you as follows:

A says: B s a knight.

B says: A and I are of opposite type.

What are A and B?



answer coming Tuesday...

Pre-Law Chronicle

About two years ago I casually mentioned to our neighbor that I'm interested in the practice of law. His eyes widened and he said 'You should take my class.'

Besides being a philosophy professor my neighbor is also a lawyer, and he teaches a class to expose undergraduates to the reality of law school. Finally this semester our schedules meshed, and I attend his class each Wednesday afternoon.

We've now met three times.

I
Here are my thoughts the morning after our first meeting:

It was FASCINATING. As I promised Jen I would, I sat on my hand for the first 15 minutes, trying to blend in. But it proved to much for me – I had so many questions! If both the federal and state courts have jurisdiction how do you decide where to try your case? Where would your odds be best?

We considered the process of filing a lawsuit and began a discussion of how jurisdiction is determined. We also spoke with a third year law student who works part time in the law school admissions office. Her stories about the clinics the school offers were amazing - students at her school get an opportunity to practice law (supervised of course) as a public defender, child advocate, prosecutor, you name it – all while gaining class credit.

But then she said that taking the LSAT isn't fun. Are you kidding me? The LSAT is one big logic test. I TEACH logic. And dare I admit? I used to work LSAT problems for fun.

For homework we were told to read four cases, roughly seventy pages in Introduction to Legal Method and Process by Berch, Berch and Spritzer, part of the American Casebook Series.

II coming soon!

New Beginning

Today Annie woke me at 7am for our morning walk. We strolled past all of the usual places, old houses, tall palm trees, our favorite dogs and cats. One house we walk past every morning is an older home, humble but perfectly maintained with two huge oak trees and inviting green lawn. In its front window hangs a small cloth banner with a single gold star in the middle, denoting a family member who serves in the military.

As I approached, a car pulled up the curb and a beautiful young girl emerged holding a bouquet of flowers. She was smartly dressed in a black skirt, lavender sweater set and simple black sandals with a one inch heel. Just as she stepped from her car a young man in blue jeans and an army t-shirt ran from the house to kiss her. They whispered and then he took her hand and guided her to the house. As they walked I heard him say, "Everybody's awake and they're really excited to meet you."

Just then she glanced back with a look of apprehension that turned to determination.

I couldn't help being excited myself!

Hi Mom, How’s the porn?

My eyes just about popped out of my head when I heard John say that to Billie Sue. She spends several hours a day on the internet researching her genealogy, but until a few weeks ago she didn’t even know how to send an email. Now her computer’s infected with spywear.

“John, I didn’t want to call Jasmine [the local daughter-in-law and computer resource] because I didn’t want her to have to see this. But then I thought, ‘NO! This might be the really bad stuff the FBI is arrests people for!’ So I called her.’

How great is THAT?!

From the BBC:

Hundreds of Paris Hilton albums have been tampered with in the latest stunt by "guerrilla artist" Banksy.
Banksy has replaced Hilton's CD with his own remixes and given them titles such as Why am I Famous?, What Have I Done? and What Am I For?
He has also changed pictures of her on the CD sleeve to show the US socialite topless and with a dog's head.
A spokeswoman for Banksy said he had doctored 500 copies of her debut album Paris in 48 record shops across the UK.
She told the BBC News website: "He switched the CDs in store, so he took the old ones out and put his version in."
It might be that there will be some people who agree with his views on the Paris Hilton album
HMV spokesmanBut he left the original barcode so people could buy the CD without realising it had been interfered with.
Banksy is notorious for his secretive and subversive stunts such as sneaking doctored versions of classic paintings into major art galleries.
His spokeswoman said he had tampered with the CDs in branches of HMV and Virgin as well as independent record stores.
He visited cities including Bristol, Brighton, Birmingham, Newcastle, Glasgow and London, she added.
A spokesman for HMV said the chain had recovered seven CDs from two Brighton shops but was unaware that other locations were affected.
Artistic leeway
No customers had complained or returned a doctored version, he said.
"It's not the type of behaviour you'd want to see happening very often," he said.
"I guess you can give an individual such as Banksy a little bit of leeway for his own particular brand of artistic engagement.
"Often people might have a view on something but feel they can't always express it, but it's down to the likes of Banksy to say often what people think about things.
"And it might be that there will be some people who agree with his views on the Paris Hilton album."
A spokesman for Virgin Megastores said staff were searching for affected CDs but it was proving hard to find them all.
"I have to take my hat off - it's a very good stunt," he added.

Learn more about our new hero Bansky here http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Banksy

Biking to Work

Riding my bike to work has been interesting.

I've made the acquaintance of several nice people - other cyclists and a couple of motorists.

I've nearly been hit twice - which resulted in a bit of yelling on my part.

And last week I saw my favorite TV star.

But probably the most interesting thing is what happened today. I was stopped at a red light and a fellow biker pulled up along side of me.

"I just want you to know," he said, "when I get married, I want my wife to look just like you."

What a complement! Even if it did come from a homeless man missing his two front teeth.

So I told my girlfriend T about this great tile I had seen. It said:

I think I'll just skip my medicine today and surprise everyone!

Then T said that one of her favorite saying has always been:

Men are like tiles - lay them right the first time and you can walk all over them.


Got any tile jokes of your own?

I See Buckeyes

Yesterday we flew to Austin to watch #2 ranked Texas take on #1 ranked Ohio State at the Daryl K. Royal Texas Memorial Football Stadium. This is the biggest football event to take place in Austin – ever – as two storied programs with the top rankings meet during the second week of the season. Planes into Austin were packed. Thirty thousand buckeyes have made their way here even though The University gave them only 4,000 seats for the game.

My plane was filled with burnt orange shirts, caps, even luggage, and as I got only the last leg of my flight, it was even filled with a little red. I made my way down the aisle, trading Hook ‘em’s at every step and found my seat – right smack dab next to the enemy.

A big burly black man about 6’5” 250lbs, who looked like he could snap a man’s neck with no more effort than popping his knuckles, stood and let me take the middle seat beside him. I grunted my apprehension/appreciation stored my burnt orange back in the overhead and sat down beside him.

“You have tickets to the game?” I ventured. Texans are never rude.

“Of course,” he sounded surprised by the question.

“I heard a bunch of Buckeyes are coming just to show support. You guys have rented out the entire Erwin Center (basketball arena) for your pep rally.”

“No kidding,” now he was really surprised.

We were quiet for a bit, and then I leaned over to quietly confess, “I’m a little nervous.”

For the first time he really looked at me, then he said in a slow soothing voice, “Ah, it’ll be alright.”

“It will?”

“Yeah,” he let the word linger there to comfort me.

For a moment we were distracted by other passengers, and I got the strange impression that he was so kind to me because he thought I just admitted that I was afraid to fly.

“No, I’m not nervous about flying. I’m nervous -”

“About the game. I know. To tell you the truth,” he whispered, “I’m nervous too. I’m just trying not to show it. Putting up a brave front.”
At that moment a longhorn sat down in front of us. He turned and asked my Buckeye, “Excited about the game?”

He was speechless.

“We’re cool,” I said.

“Yeah. We’re cool,” he echoed. And so I befriended a Buckeye.

When I John about my adventure (he was on a different flight) he was flabbergasted. “Consorting with the enemy! I thought you were a better judge of character than that!”
I just smiled. Maybe I’ll see my Buckeye at the game.

It’s no secret that Texans ain’t too fond of Californians

“They dress funny, talk funny, and sure as hell eat funny. I mean, who the hell ever heard of eating raw fish?” you might hear a Texan ask.

Never mind that the same things could be said of them with their cowboy boots, starched Wranglers, belt buckles and Stetsons and their insistence that a meal isn’t a meal unless you’ve eaten a dead animal.

Though I was born and raised in Texas and still feel an undeniable, intrinsic attraction to its ways, I am unabashedly more at home in California. I blend in seamlessly with the tank-top, flip-flop wearing, sushi-eating, liberal view-espousing crowd.

So it is with a different perspective that I see and enjoy my native state when I return.

After our wedding we spent a few days at a B&B in the hill country. Our private cabin opened out to a field where we watched the deer each evening. In the morning we could hear distant cows bray and quail coo. This little B&B boasted a renowned chef who’s been featured in publications such as Gourmet Magazine. Each morning we were delighted and stunned by what he considered breakfast: three courses, every one with generous portions of devastatingly rich concoctions. That’s when it occurred to me that Texans are trying to kill Californians with butter!

“This morning we’ll start with strawberries and blueberries in heavy cream and your choice of an almond Basque tart or a raspberry lemon scone served with butter, jams and thick cream. Then for breakfast [as if that other stuff were a mere crumb] we have your choice of pancakes with hot maple syrup and our homemade pork sausage or a cheese and mushroom frittata served with mashed potatoes [with butter] and bacon.”

Each morning I plowed through the fruit, the pastry [which I’m sure contained an entire stick of butter per serving] and as much of the actual breakfast as I could manage. And each morning I had to make a mad dash back to the cabin because I was utterly sick to my stomach from the richness of the meal.

Not to worry, though. We rounded out our meals of butter and heavy cream with generous helpings barbeque and beans. When we found one barbeque join that served canned green beans I sat down and ate an entire heaping mound of them all by myself.

Needless to say, I’m glad to be back home in California - where I can finally get a cup of coffee with skim milk instead of cream.

Favorite Wedding Moment #7

This isn’t exactly a favorite moment but it’s a continuation in the wedding cup size saga, so I thought I should include it.

Recap: Bought beautiful sleek wedding dress and had first fitting. Exercised like crazy to look good in sleek dress and went second fitting. The bust of the dress seemed to have ballooned – the only place, apparently, that I had lost any weight.

As fate would have it, the day before we flew to Austin I stopped by the neighborhood boutique to show the owner the amazing necklace her dad (the neighborhood jeweler) had made for me. We chitchatted and I told her about the ironic turn in events of my cup size. She grabbed a little pink box off the counter and handed me the miracle of plastic boobs. “Here, try these. They’re even grope tested!” she said.

So those were packed in the suitcase along with everything else. And as I dressed for the wedding I slipped them in my dress (where my previous larger boobs used to be) and marveled at myself in the mirror. For the first time in my life I had cleavage. I wanted to keep standing in front of the mirror groping my own amazing new boobs, but somebody was saying something about taking pictures and I had to go.

The plastic contraptions served me well all through the pre-wedding photos, the ceremony, the first dance, and the dinner. All until I took a moment to slip outside with John. When we came back inside we were whisked to the stage for toasts and then off to cut the cake and greet the guests. As we walked back toward the dance floor my hand brushed waist where I felt the unmistakable bulge of a very grope-able plastic boob.

I ran to the back of the room grabbing the photographer on my way to act as my shield. I reached inside, readjusted, restored the cleavage and asked, “Was that there while you photographed the cake and toasts?” “I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out,” she said wide-eyed.

The pictures will be available on September 25th.

Favorite Wedding Moment #6

My girlfriend M rolled her 86 year-old wheel-chair bound grandpa over to see me.

“KK, I have something to say to you,” he said in his slow, deliberate Alabama way. And then, drawing out the end of each phrase he said,

I hope you have the ability
To keep your agility
To maintain your virility
Until your senility.

Then he sat back proud and just beamed with a smile stretching ear to ear.

Favorite Wedding Moment #2-5

One of John’s friends after meeting Billie Sue for the first time:

“John, I got a chance to talk to your mom at the barbeque, and she went on and on telling me how different the two of you are. But the whole time I felt like I was talking to you.”


My dad in his toast:

"I want to wish you both good luck - especially John."


The very first thing my cousin's boyfriend said to me after the ceremony:

"How did the quarterbacks look at the scrimmage this morning?"


John's brother after our first dance:

"If Dad had known that you two were going to dance like that, he would have stayed alive for the wedding."
John said not to worry, King Richard had the best seat in the house.


One of John's best friends when he saw me in my wedding gown for the very first time:

"Unbelievable."
Thanks alot Bill.

Favorite Wedding Moment #1

John’s three-year-old nephew had been told to ‘behave at the wedding’ so many times that whenever he saw John’s mom he’d shout, “Granny, I’ll be good at the wedding!” And he was. I’m not sure that anyone enjoyed our wedding more than he did.

He went with his mom and dad and granny to try on his tails before the big day. He shimmied on his dress pants and dress shirt and then his bow tie. “You look handsome Drake,” granny fawned. “No. Not yet,” he was adamant. He slipped on his silver vest. “Not yet,” he warned. Then he put on his black coat with tails, launched a huge smile and said, “NOW I’m handsome.”

The night of the wedding he danced almost every dance, never taking off his coat. The next day he asked, “Can we go to KK’s and John’s wedding again today?”

My goddaughter Rachel, who is also three, was equally thrilled to be in the wedding. So much so, that in the days leading up to it she referred to it as her wedding. “Mommy, when do we get to go to my wedding,” she’d ask.

At the rehearsal she was none too sure of the little boys who were traipsing around. I asked the five-year-old later, “Why were you chasing Rachel?” “Because she wouldn’t hold my hand,” he answered. But something magical must have happened because after that they were inseparable. They held hands at the rehearsal dinner and at the pool the next day – he showed off his canon ball and she showed off her goggles.

There was actually a plan of who would walk with whom down the aisle, but we were prepared to witness almost anything during the real event. As it turned out my two-year-old goddaughter walked down the aisle with her mom Jen, my five year-old cutie walked down with John’s two oldest nephews, and the two three-year-olds accompanied each other.

The aisle has two short sets of steps and at the first one Drake let go of Rachel’s hand and jumped down all three steps at once. Then he did a little dance and finally caught up with Rachel who was sprinkling petals nicely along her way. When she reached the front, she turned her basket upside down and shook it to make sure not a petal was left. Then she kicked off her shoes and sat down right next to the preacher. Meanwhile Drake said, “Now I’m going to walk down again with KK and her daddy,” and before anyone could stop him he was blasting back up the aisle. His dad’s face dropped and he silently mouthed Stop Him but to no avail. John’s friend Rob started whispering, “he’s at the 50, the 40, the 30, he may Go. All. The. Way! Oh – stopped at the 10 yard line,” where he was scooped up into his mom’s arms.

That was a tough act to follow!

I am told that it was a lovely wedding.

That the ceremony was sweet and touching, that the brides maids and groomsmen cried. That the flower girls and their little boy escorts were adorable. That the reception was a blast – the food and cake and swing band divine. That is was the best wedding people had ever attended.

For me it’s all rather a blur – there was nervousness, love and wonder, excitement and dazzling dancing, a whirlwind of people, a couple bites of food, tears, a mad dash for our waiting car, more tears, relief and exhaustion.

I am thrilled and honored to be married to my John. I know that we will love and cherish each other for all the days to come. That together we will share in and support each other through whatever life may bring. I have married the best man I have ever known.

John's bathroom

On Friday the contractor installed the toilet in our new bathroom. John was thrilled to see the gleaming white beacon when he got home. We marveled at it; we flushed it; we tried it out for size. (I must say it does have a very form-fitting seat.) We played with the lid and seat. (Without realizing it I had ordered a model with an automatically closing lid and seat. I think it might actually make John keep the lid down just for the shear novelty of it.) Later that evening I couldn’t find him or the day’s paper.

“Where are you? What are you doing?” I shouted.

“I’m in the bathroom. Reading.”

“You’re just sitting in there reading?”

“Yep. I paid nineteen thousand dollars for this bathroom, I sure as hell am going to get my money’s worth out of it!”

Wedding Dreams

As the days till the wedding evaporate, my dreams about the wedding are becoming more frequent. Here's a taste of my mind's moonlight wanderings.

I stepped into my wedding shoes and the heels shrank - from a sexy three and half inches down to a mere half inch. With no time to spare I grabbed my laptop and headed straight to Stuart Weitzman. But my wireless card wasn't working and Tim Allen was too busy playing balderdash with his friends to help me. Don't even ask why I was at the tool man's house. I struggled in vain until I woke. Lucky for me my shoes are still a stunning 3 1/2 inches tall.

For the love of God, PUT ON A SHIRT

I can stand the heat.

I can even stand the humidity.

But what I absolutely cannot stand is one more sight of a droopy, bulging, hairy, neon white naked chest.

I know the heat can make some people do crazy things like walk around outside with no shirt on. So if you're one of those people, please let me help you.

YOU ARE SCARING THE CHILDREN!
PUT ON A SHIRT!

Of course, if you look like this, none of the above comments apply.

For Your Understanding

I will never have children.

I have suffered three periods of major depression, each time more severe than the last. My most recent experience changed me in a fundamental way. I no longer expect happiness to outweigh misery. I no longer see life without knowing that the heaviness of depression awaits me. I fully expect it to return, and one day to take me with it. I am born of this earth and I will struggle to survive, but I would never wish ‘life’ upon another.