Dying twice

Today Professor Crim had a student read aloud what a man was charged with and convicted of in one of our cases, and read literally, the perpertrator appeared to have killed the victim twice.
Professor Crim followed that up with:

"It appears that in this case the man died twice. You may think that one cannot die twice but if you know anything about Elizabethan poetry, you know in fact you can... but modern liberal arts education being what it is..."

I started giggling.

"Apparently Ms. Butterflyfish is well acquainted with the notion of dying twice, though I'll have you know Ms. Butterflyfish... as you get older, well... *sighs dramatically* you'll see, you'll see."

(at the end of class)

"Oh, and, Ms. Butterflyfish, do explain it to the rest of the class. Unless your modesty precludes... nah. Good day."

Proof that law school makes you boring...

Funniest thing happened in torts. The prof brought in the Wall Street Journal and read some quotes and otherwise summarized an article on the front page of yesterday's Wall Street Journal.

Seems the rules of the road in Belgium (yield to the person on the right) leads to lots of traffic fatalities. They don't have stop signs, and people are aghast at the suggestion that stop signs be placed at some intersections.

We discussed how this relates to tort law. This was a highly entertaining half hour of class, and I would love to regale you with details and post the text of the story so we could all share a laugh.

(see post title)

Fridays suck

I know, the post title defies conventional wisdom. Hell, everyone loves Fridays. Lately, not me.
Since law school started, I have been fine all week. Come Friday mid-afternoon, depression sets in like a storm front that has no intention of moving on until the middle of Monday, at the earliest.

Last weekend was particularly bad. I just wanted to cry every waking minute, but I was afraid to because if I let go, I wasn't sure I could stop. I cracked a bit on Monday and felt better after that.

This past weekend, it was more of a soul-sucking lethargy than a tears-just-beneath- the-surface feeling. But it hit on Friday around noon and I couldn't seem to shake it.

I can't say its because I am more lonely on the weekend. I barely talk to anyone at school as it is -- I just hole up in the library and try to keep afloat so I have time for Clownfish when I get out of my last class.

But its Monday again, and I am in a great mood. I have a happy song stuck in my head and I lost 4.5 pounds last week.

If Law-Rah can have Pissy Tuesday, I think I might just have Depression Friday.

Clownfish Language

Ok, I thought the Clownfish language explosion was underway before. It seems since he's turned 2, he's turned up the speed.

His Papa sent a turtle from Iraq for his birthday. Clownfish loves his turtle. Loves it. Carries it with him everywhere, even to daycare. He’s never been attached to a stuffed animal before – not to the extent that it has to sit next to him at mealtimes, it has to come to parties and daycare, and it has to go to bed with him. When asked what is the turtle’s name, he replies RABBIT. Yes, he named the turtle Rabbit. He considered briefly my suggestion to call the turtle DUDE (because its the Finding Nemo turtle and Dude just seemed appropriate). Occasionally, he calls it Dude. But usually its Rabbit, which is a great name for a turtle, don’t you think? Makes for a funny story, which is why I think he’s encouraged to call it Rabbit – makes everyone smile.

He’s got a new word in his vocabulary: why? A conversation:
Clownfish, its time for a bath.
Why?
Because you’re stinky.
Why?
Because you played all day.
Why?
Because its time to get in the bath. Let’s go.
No bath today. Bath tomorrow.
(rinse, repeat)

Tomorrow is the new “no” – no dinner today dinner tomorrow. No chicken today chicken tomorrow. But it also shows how very resiliant he is. When I say no to fries, and promise him fries tomorrow. He says ok fries tomorrow and moves on. I almost always follow up on my promises for tomorrow, unless we both forget.

He was soooo good at my sister's baby shower this weekend. Ridiculously good. He played with cars, he talked to another baby, he ate some chocolate, he sat on Grandma’s lap while I helped with the gifts opening. He ate cake and drank tea and had an entire table sing Happy Birthday to him. Over and over again.

He’s been very very happy lately. And polite! He says thank you, no thank you, you're welcome, and (occasionally) please.

Yeah, and he's a parrot, so when I realize I left part of my sister's baby gift at my house and shouted a mild expletive... well, lets just say I may have to explain his penchant for the phrase "Oh Shit" if it shows up at daycare. Glad he wasn't paying attention when Granddad was watching baseball this weekend "Hit it you fucker" will probably not go over too well among the 2 year old set.

Fun in criminal law

From the otherwise entirely unfunny case of Pope v. State:

Pope moved that we strike from the State's brief and appendix a selection from the Year Book of 1484 written in Medieval Latin and references thereto. The State provided no translation and conceded a total lack of knowledge of what it meant. The motion is granted.

Similies

Steve Irwin (crocodile wrestler, snake handler, who fears no poisonous spider, bear, or lion) dies by being stabbed by a fish...

This is just like

...a NASCAR driver dying in a 25 mile-an-hour fender bender.
...Tony Soprano being knocked off by a 92 year old grandma.

(I totally stole one of those from GB)

Any others?

Boogers

If you have ever chased a snot-nosed toddler around with a tissue trying to get him to let you wipe his nose, you know that this milestone is huge. Clownfish has a small cold -- slight fever, runny nose. He used to cry like I was beating him with a stick anytime I approached with a tissue-of-doom. Now, he tries to blow his own nose and totally lets me wipe it for him. He says "boogies" now too -- ah, the vocab explosion continues.

Now if I can just get him to stop hiding boogie-filled tissues behind the sofa cushions.

I am a tool

Its Saturday. Of a long weekend. The second week of law school. And I am sitting in my law library. I plan to be here til closing. I got here at 11:00 a.m.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Oh yeah, my Mom is leaving tomorrow morning so this is the only time I have to read. Right.