Dreaming

Exams are over. Thank God. I feel like I'm becoming more of myself again. Somewhere between the black letter law, I lost a part of me. Between the memos and reading and cases, I lost focus. I narrowed down my sight to what was directly in front of me, instead of everything around me. I realized this as I was filing through some old paperwork tonight and came across my law school application that I had tucked away. Most people will tell you that they just wrote "something" for their personal statement, whatever "something" is; I, however, wrote about a picture of a horse that a nine-year old Russian girl named Anne drew for me the summer I lived in Russia. Long story short, it was through this little girl, Anne, that I came to understand that humanity transcends the boundaries in which we confine ourselves. In that moment I realized that I had the capability to touch someone. Maybe that's an idealistic statement; but I've come to realize that the only person that will be hurt by my dreams is only myself.

I came to law school in search of becoming part of the world in a very real way. I'm not out to save the world, just to do what I can to make a difference. The foundation of our interaction in this world is shaped by the law; I believe that policy is a very valuable mechanism through which the world can be changed. That's why I came to law school, to be a part of that. But somewhere in the past semester, I lost the idealism that drives me. Now I have three weeks to take a deep breathe and dream. It's time to remember why I'm here and where I'm going.

Just A Little Dancing

At 12:10pm on Friday, I click the "Finish Exam" button on the top left on my computer. With that simple click, I have just submitted my property exam. One semester's worth of material crammed into a three-hour test. There is no turning back after that click, only forward. So by 1:30pm of that same afternoon, we were at a coffeeshop studying contracts. My mind is racing and numb at the same time. When is the UCC Article 2 applicable? If O conveys to A for life, then to B for life, is that a vested or contingent remainder? What distinguishes an option contract? Do joint tenants or tenants in common have a right of survivorship? Is there a difference between fraud and misrepresentation? When is it trespass to chattels as opposed to conversion? What are the exceptions to enforce a pre-existing legal duty? What the hell is a contract? Is that even what we're studying?

We have a two-day turnaround for the third exam, as opposed to the three-day turnaround we had from torts to contracts. Our days and nights have been long, seemingly endless. Consumed in outlining, notecards, multiple choice questions, practice essays, we often lose track of the hours. The hours that turn into days that we also lose track of. It all becomes a countdown: "three days to property" or "one day to contracts."

It goes without saying that at some point we will hit a breaking point. It's that point when the information you are learning doesn't just go in one ear and out the other; actually, that information just never goes in at all. We ran into that wall around 7:30pm on Friday night. Three small pizzas and two bottles of wine later, we were giddily dancing around my living room to the scene on Love Actually when a twelve-year-old girl is singing "All I Want for Christmas" at the school Christmas program. As though we were three little undergraduate girls, here we were tipsy instead of studying. Sometimes, all you need to do is dance.

We were back to studying on Saturday morning. Just a little dancing, that's all we needed.

To Live Is To Risk Dying

To laugh is to risk appearing the fool.
To weep is to risk being called sentimental.
To reach out to another is to risk involvement.
To expose feelings is to risk showing your true self.
To place your ideas and your dreams before them is to risk being called naive.
To love is to risk not being loved in return.
To live is to risk dying.
To hope is to risk despair, and to try is to risk failure.

But risks must be taken, because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing.
The person who risks nothing, does nothing, is nothing and becomes nothing.
He may avoid suffering, but he simply cannot learn and feel and change and grow and love and live.
Chained by his certitudes, he is a slave, he's forfeited his freedom.

Only the person who risks is truly free.

Two Weeks

Today was the last day of class. Finals start Monday. A four-hour Torts exam. The LSAT wasn't even four hours. That is only the first of four exams. Two weeks from today it will be over. One semester down. Almost.

Bus Ticket

Last Thanksgiving, one of my roommates and I bought bus tickets to my uncle's house in State College, Penn. We purchased the tickets a few weeks in advance on the internet for a noon bus on Wednesday. When we arrived at the "bus station" in Chinatown, there was no bus. Searching for answers, we found the "bus office," only to be told that there was no noon bus. Naturally, we asked for a refund so that we could catch a train. The guy manning the desk points to our tickets, which reads in very small letters, "No refunds." He shakes his head. So, I point out that our tickets says "Departure time: 12:00pm." "Sorry," he replies, "no noon bus." In our hands we held non-refundable tickets for a non-existent bus. That's New York for you.

When Music Speaks

what I wouldn't give just to forget
what I wouldn't give to get some rest
so I can remember how to live again
I wanna live again

am I desperately losing this fight
when I should really be choosing my flight
take me now

what I wouldn't give just to forget
what I wouldn't give to get some rest
so I can remember how to live again
I wanna live again

"What I Wouldn't Give" Holly Brook

Dallas to Fort Worth

I'm driving east on I-30 tonight. It's a drive that I've made many times in the past few months. Now its 10:30pm. I'm stopped somewhere near Arlington. Stopped. Not just crawling along. Stopped. Seriously, this is why I hate driving. You can be cruising down the interstate at 70mph one minute and the next, you've gone two miles in thirty minutes. So, now at 10:30pm on a Friday night I'm stopped on I-30. And I'm really aggravated at the drivers who ignore the neon blinking arrow flashing left and fifty signs that read "left lanes closed," and, instead, continue driving until the last possible second so that someone at he front of the line that everyone else has been patiently waiting in has to let them cut in.

As I wait in traffic, my mind starts to drift. I'm trying to figure out what kind of girl I am. Am I a Fort Worth kind of girl or a Dallas kind of girl? Kind of stupid, I know. But the cities have such distinctive, almost contrasting, personalities, I'm just curious as to where I fit in. Or maybe if I fit in at all.

Dallas has the pretentious air. I don't think that's me. Fort Worth is a little too cowboy, though. I like the energy of Dallas. But I also like the simplicity of Fort Worth. Dallas is trendier. Fort Worth has a homey feel to it. Dallas is a "let's put on a dress and heels" kind of place. In Fort Worth, you would be way overdressed if you wore that out. I mean I do like to dress up every once and awhile...

So I'm sitting here on the interstate between the two cities wondering where I fit in. I feel like it's somewhere in the middle. So that would put me in like Arlington. No thanks.

I miss New York.

Wide Open Spaces

This weekend I participated in a "mini-reunion" with college roommates and old friends. Some I've kept in touch with regularly, some its been a once-a-year thing. Regardless, when we get together, we click right into the place we left off...almost.

As the girls sat around the coffee table in the front room, we reminisced on memories and foreshadowed the future. Their futures consisted of buying houses and having babies; mine, well it's just a question mark. I don't know if I'll ever buy a house or ever have a baby. I don't know if I want to. I don't know. I don't know what I want. Seemingly, as I sat there observing conversation about baby planning, I felt disconnected from them. Years ago we stayed up until 2am playing pranks on the boys, now everyone left by 10pm to go back to the home they made with those boys. At some point, we stopped walking on the same road and started walking down our own path.

It was good to see them. It was even better to realize that I prefer the road that I'm walking down because in front of me is a wide-open field.

This I Know

My favorite place in the world is quite possibly Cinque Terre, Italy.

Something can be simple and complicated at the same time.

I miss the rooftop of 43 Avenue C.

I'm twenty-five and just bought a new pair of rollerblades. There is some part of everyone that will always be a child.

Everyone should learn forgiveness.

I am usually up for a chick-flick but would prefer to watch a movie that makes a political statement or is historically based. There is a little nerd in everyone too.

I will walk on streets of gold one day.

If I could go back to any point of my life, it would be my sophomore year in college. Those were days of belonging and innocence.

We make our own luck.

I have floated in the Dead Sea and jumped from an airplane at 13,500 feet.

Something worthwhile involves risk; few people ever experience anything worthwhile because they are scared to take that risk.


That's about all I know.

How to Change the World

An advertisement catches my eye. It reads: "Can the next generation save the world?"

If it involves buying a t-shirt, maybe we can.

A little over a year ago, Bono launched Product (Red), which has raised $45 million dollars as of the end of September for The Global Fund from its product sales. Ingenious, really.

However, there are some who seem skeptical of this tactic: Should we really induce people to give to those in need by purchasing things for themselves?

Of course we should. We want to save the world, but we want our ipods as well. Sure, there are those saints who travel to the ends of the earth in hopes of answering the world's prayers. Then, there are the rest of us.

Not that we are bad. We are aware of the devastation in our world. Product(Red) just made it easier on us to shift our awareness into activism by buying merchandise for ourselves that benefits those in need. If you think about it, in combining two trends of my generation, the premise of Product(Red) is an oxymoron: the need for commercialism and the desire for social justice. Really, ingenious.

So for those that are not going to hop on the next plane to Africa, buy Product(Red)'s new "Two Week" shirt at Gap. Your contribution in purchasing the shirt is equivalent to two-weeks of medicine for people living with HIV and AIDS in Africa. Do your part in changing the world.

For the Sake of Writing

First memo down. Sign of relief. If you ever have any questions about common-law marriage in Iowa, I will most likely be about to answer it. Seriously though, I turned in my first major writing assignment today. Ten pages of conclusions, proofs, and analysis. Compared to the hundred-page business plan I created in business school, ten pages sounds like a mere opening paragraph. Yeah, well it was not. I spent countless hours drafting and re-drafting. Even worse, I heard that last year the highest grade given was a B.

If you can't tell, school has gotten to be a little overwhelming. I'm tired. Tired of reading, thinking, writing, reading more, briefing, discussing, reading more, thinking more. The one complaint I had about my job (ok, maybe one of the many complaints) was that it was not stimulating. Law school is the exact opposite. I'm being challenged to the point that my head is spinning. Actually, the most challenging aspect is not necessarily all of the material but organizing that material in an applicable way. You can always read about the law; law school is about learning how to think through the law. That's not that easy.

There's no really point to this entry. I guess that's life though; sometimes there's not really a point to some things. Sometimes you just have to write for the sake of writing just because it is writing that is not a legal memorandum.

With the Windows Down

It's fall. The temperature in DFW did not rise into the 90s today. Fall is here, even though I'm still wearing flip flops and tank tops. I really miss fall in New York. Pushing through the rotating door onto Fifth Avenue after work there's a crispness in the air, the leaves of the Central Park trees across the street are golden golden and auburn, twirling lazily in the air then landing softly on the ground. People are wrapped in comfy sweaters walking by me drinking a hot beverage, maybe eating Nuts for Nuts. It signals that the holidays will be here soon but doesn't hurry them along. But I'm in Texas now, walking down the Target aisle looking at pumpkins and, as I turn my buggy down the next aisle, there are Christmas ornaments. Meanwhile, I'm still wearing my flip flops and tank tops.

Today as I was driving home from school, I rolled the windows down. The sun was setting, casting a pinkish-orange glow over the highway. I turned up the music. I could feel my hair forming in knots as the wind whipped it around. It felt good. It was a rare moment when I was fine being where I was; a moment that I would not trade to be back in New York. It was a moment of freedom, something that I haven't felt much since being here. Who ever thought I'd say this, but God bless Texas fall evenings driving down the highway with your windows down.

Diamond Rings

A friend sent me an email the other day about a twenty-five year old girl who posted an ad on Craig's List seeking a man that makes at least $500,000 for marriage. This is my favorite part of the excerpt:

"I know a woman in my yoga class who was married to an investment banker and lives in Tribeca, and she's not as pretty as I am, nor is she a great genius. So what is she doing right? How do I get to her level?"

So, as a single twenty-five year old girl, I am asking why are people so desperate to get married? Now, just so I don't offend anyone, I make the disclaimer that everyone that is married by my age is not desperate. For some people, the time is just right, I understand that. But for a twenty-five year old living in New York City, really, you want to be married? That, I just do not understand.

Inevitably, as a girl, I am obligated to write about boys and marriage and all that at some point. So here it is.

Since I've lived in only two places for longer than a year, here's my conclusion of the boys that I am familiar with: Texas boys are eager to spend their money on engagement rings; New York boys are eager to spend their money guying girls drinks. Texas boys want to buy a two-car-garage house in the suburbs; New York boys just want to bring the girl to their bachelor pad for the night. Texas boys want to settle; New York boys want to do anything but settle. So does that mean that I have to go to Kansas to find a boy that doesn't want to put a ring on my finger tomorrow but also wants me around for more than one night? I mean, is there an inbetween?

The thing is that there are very few couples that I meet whose life I want mine to be like. I would rather be single, traveling the world, than buy a cookie-cutter house outside of the city. So will this perception ever change? I hope not. The thing that I like so much about my life right now is my idealism. The desire to change the world; the challenge of significance; the need to be apart of a bigger world; the hope that tomorrow will be better; the want to risk. I don't see this in too many married couples. Maybe that's why marriage seems so boring to me. Maybe one day I'll wake up to realize that all my dreams may not come true; my idealism will fade into a realism of weekend yard-work, having babies and driving carpool. Or maybe, I'll find someone that is just as idealistic.

Even though I think its kind of cheesy, I agree with the concept from the book Wild at Heart; boys want adventure; girls want to be a part of that adventure (I think it goes something like that but its been awhile since I've read it). So my question: does married life give you the kind of rush that freefalling from an airplane at 13,500 feet does? Maybe it does and, at twenty-five, I'm missing out. But I think right now, I would rather feel like I have the world at my fingertips than have a diamond ring on that finger. And I'll just keeping hoping that someone is out there that likes jumping out of planes as much as I do.

Halfway Point

This week marks the halfway point of the semester. Last year at this time, I was consistently working until midnight to finish a report promised to our client's board of directors; now, I am consistently studying until midnight. In the past month and a half my vocabulary has changed; I now understand terms like "we affirm in part but reverse on X's claim of promissory estroppel" and "A had record title to Lot 1 but B has adversely possessed Lot 1 with accrual beginning in Year X". My eyesight has deteriorated from the hours spent reading case opinions, even though I didn't think it can get any worse. I am constantly analyzing situations to determine if a duty of care has been breached, thus giving rise to an action in negligence (and possible money damages). Yep, I am looking at the world totally differently. But more than just the knowledge that I've learned in the classroom, I'm learning the difference in living to work and working to live.

I've had a lot conversations about this lately: Are we meant to work to make a living or live for our work? I've been in law school for not even two months but one thing that I know is that after this experience I want to work to live. Now I know that I am only wading in the shallow end of the pool right now, but I have three years of studying ahead of me, not to mention a banking account that is thousands of dollars in the red. I don't want to invest myself in something that will merely get me from weekend to weekend.

So many people complain about their job. I've been there. Not everyone has landed their dream job, I understand. But that doesn't mean it's not out there. Sometimes our current position is just a spring board to get us there; we just have to keep jumping for it. I don't believe that people just luck into dream jobs. I do believe, though, that sometimes people don't want to risk actually taking a chance to find it because it means losing a security. I'm writing this more for myself than anyone else as an encouragement not to settle. I want to spend the significant portion of my waking hours doing something that is fulfilling to me. Slowly, I'm beginning to understand what that is, and I think I'm in the right place to get me there.

But first things first, finish the first semester.

Happily Ever After

We expect happiness. Think of all the times you've heard people answer that they measure their success by the extent that they are happy. Think of all the songs that you listen to that are about a soul searching for happiness. Mankind is in a constant pursuit of happiness because we think we are entitled to be happy. We expect happiness.

Not to be the person who sees the glass as half empty, but I think our neediness to be happy is a little skewed. Actually, I think it's a little selfish. I think that I'm learning that life isn't about being happy; that our successes shouldn't be built on the foundation of how happy we are with life. I think that we have a higher calling in life than to pursue our own happiness. I think that we were created to live a life beyond ourself. We were made to become better people, not happier people. I think somehow this comes full circle; that becoming a better person will make us a happier person in some respect. However, I think its the process of becoming a better person that deters us because its not about finding happiness. Its not about what we expect life should be.

Becoming better means sometimes taking the narrow road, something that can be uncomfortable and scary because you don't know exactly where it will lead. It means taking risks and becoming vulnerable. It's about hurting, being broken. Through this though, we become better people; as we become better, hopefully we encourage other people to do the same. And it's then that we really start to live life - when our life becomes not about us but about others.

I'm still trying to figure out how to do this because, like so many others, sometimes its just easier to settle for complacency. Sometimes its just easier to live in my comfortable apartment, to get in the same routine everyday, to never look beyond what my eyes can see in front of me. Sometimes its easier to believe in a happily ever after. But I know that's not what I want from life. It's not what I expect.

Coming Soon

Finally, we have something to show! Ok, so maybe its not much but check it out anyway: www.shopnadirah.com. In a few weeks, when you click on this link, it will be the actual website instead of just the filler page that is up now. I feel like this has been a long process but things are starting to come together. Sample shirts are on their way, paperwork is being filled out, the website is being created, the designs are being transformed to digital artwork. With traveling this summer and starting law school, this has become one of those projects that I will get to when I get to. And I'm finally getting to it!

For those of you wondering what I'm so excited about, a childhood friend and I started a little business designing t-shirts. It's more or less just a creative outlet for us, that hopefully will be profitable to some extent. The name "Nadirah" is an Arabic name meaning rare, precious or one of a kind. We want our work to reflect this name, but, more importantly, we want it to represent our individuality.

Check back in a few weeks because Nadirah will be launching soon!

Full of Grace

I just finished reading Sex God by Rob Bell. In short, its a book exploring the interplay between sex and spirituality. As humans, we long for a connection to something, someone; too often we find that in unhealthy relationships, defying the intended purpose of sexuality. I know that you should never read the end of the book first but I promise this won't ruin it for you, so here's the last paragraph that I want to share:

"I finish with this story because life is messy. Gut wrenching. Risky. Things don't always turn out well. Sometimes they don't turn out at all. Sometimes everything falls apart and we wonder if there's any point to any of it. We're tempted to shut ourselves off, fortify the walls around our hearts, and forge ahead, promising ourselves that we will never again open ourselves up like that again. But I have to believe that we can recover from anything. I have to believe that God can put anything - anyone - back together. I have to believe that the God Jesus invites us to trust is as good as he says he is. Loving. Forgiving. Merciful. Full of grace."

I've been there; we've all been there. And slowly, I'm beginning to understand that maybe there is some truth to this statement. That we must believe in grace. I've been broken lately, mostly because I've looked for my worth in places that I will never find it. That's why we must believe in grace. It has worth. As screwed up as we might be at times, the only way it will get better is if we believe that it will.

Good-bye New York City

"There is nothing permanent except change." Heraclitus

I am so awkward at saying good-byes. By now, I should be decent at it, but every time I have to say good-bye to someone for an extended period of time, first I get all panicked. Is it appropriate to hug or should I just shake their hand? Then, I get a little emotional. When will I see them next or will I ever see them again? So this makes me re-think the whole hug or shake hands ordeal. I'm sure you feel awkward after just reading this.

I've had to do this recently. By "this" I mean saying good-bye to people that mean a lot to me. People that have loved me through the thick and thin of it all. It's hard, harder than I thought. I've always been the kind of person to thrive from change. Maybe it's the adventure part of it. The thing is though, sometimes adventures turn out to be this exciting endeavor and sometimes, well sometimes it just crashes and burns.

So aside from good-byes and unknowns, the thing about change is that its constant. Things fall apart, people leave, opportunities arise, love happens. It's about changing. It's like a circle, never ending. Change is progress, which means there is always hope for something better. I love thinking that tomorrow will be better than today. Not just for me but for everyone.

So, here's to change! It's hard, but I'm hopeful.

Wake Me Up When Sept Ends

It was that cruel milestone marker that reminds us that even the strong are weak. For our grandparents generation, it was Pearl Harbor. For our parents generation, it was JFK's assassination. For my generation, it was September 11.

It was a day that brought our nation to its knees, weeping for its lost and crying in frustration, as we began to collect the pieces of three shattered buildings. The tragedy was unfathomable; in that sense it was a defining a moment for everyone. For my generation, though, it was a moment that defined the rest of our lives. The way we approach the world changed; our everyday routines, such as travel and correspondence, were made more transparent but, more importantly, our awareness of the world around us was heightened. Simultaneously in that day, we became skeptics and peacemakers.

I distinctly remember climbing on the bus that morning after an early class. Bits and pieces of conversation spurred confusion. The bus became silent as it left campus though, the radio tuned to a newstation that was just beginning to piece the puzzle together. With the rest of the country, we sat in shock in front of the television as the story unfolded in the ensuing hours. We watched the buildings crumble into piles of rubble; we cringed at the pictures of the broken bodies; we felt the grief of death; we prayed for healing; we cried for those that we didn't even know. However removed we were, we still experienced a connection. The days became weeks, the weeks turned into months, and, before we knew it, it was years later. We moved on with our lives. I graduated college and moved to New York City.

I lived in New York City for two years, most of it on Avenue C in the East Village. On my way to the F train every morning, I passed a firehouse that had a tribute painted on the outside door to the firemen of that company that served that day. It was a small memorial to something so big; but it will forever etch in my mind the example of bravery exhibited by the men and women that day. We moved on with our lives, but, in our own way, we never forget that day.

Number One

There's a civil procedure book sitting on the table beside my computer that I should be reading; instead I am setting up a blog. I mean everyone is doing it these days! In truth though, maybe everyone is doing it because there is something empowering about posting your work so that anyone has access to it. So, as many other bloggers, I'm writing this in hopes that thousands of people each morning are logging onto this site, eager to read my thoughts; even though I know that I will be lucky for even one random person to stumble upon it by accident. So, if you happen to be that random person, thanks for reading this far and please continue to frequent the site. Now onto the American civil court system.