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17 PLL Persp. 1 (2005-2006)

handle is hein.lbr/aaplper0017 and id is 1 raw text is: THE QUARTERLY OF THE PRIVATE LAW LIBRARIES SIS OF THE AMERICAN ASSOCIATION OF LAW LIBRARIES STPM IAN E'S FIRST AALL By Stephanie Towery, Haynes and Boone LLP Austin, TX I forgot to get some good snapshots of my first steps into the AALL exhibit halI, but that was because I tried to enter before it was open. Two security ladies at the door pushed me back, telling me I'd have to wait the five minutes outside. I guess I didn't blend in with the huge crowd pushing their way past me into the hall. Well, they were all wearing matching blue golf shirts. What club are they in? I thought. Monday My first session was called something like Publishing Outside of the Law Library Community. It was a 3- person panel with a moderator. I got to the room early, so I got to watch the guys check the mikes. It was very cool. I didn't know what to expect, so I was glaring at the moderator and panelists, trying to suss them out ahead of time. They looked so relaxed. A lot of people showed up right before it started. I guess they were all mingling and trading war stories outside. A lot of people were taking notes already, so I looked in my new AALL bag to see if I was supposed to fill out any forms. I didn't find anything pertinent, so I made a pile of leaflets I could throw away to lighten my load. That bag was heavy with my camera and mints in it, and I hadn't purchased any souvenirs yet. When the moderator started talking, I lost all track of time. I got sucked in. The panelists took turns telling their stories, and then they did the impossible: they opened the floor up to ANYONE to ask them questions. This never happens to me. I don't get to ask questions, especially using a microphone. I racked my brain trying to think of a good question. I found myself saddled with good, but inappropriate, questions. I was self-censoring again. Where do you find the time to write was the only question I could think of that wasn't personal. Is it an appropriate question, I thought, while another woman was hogging the mike. Obviously they do find the time, because they are all successful writers, I reasoned. I finally honed my question down to something that sounded halfway acceptable: which project management software do you use? I tried whispering it to myself. Yeh, it was so good, it didn't Volume 17 Issue 1 make any sense. And, hey, everyone was getting up! I missed my chance. Volunteering at the registration desk This was not really like a real job. First of all, I show up by walking around the counter and announcing, Hi, I'm Stephanie, I'm a volunteer. I couldn't think of anything else to say. A couple of people introduced themselves and showed me the basic set up. It was so easy; it worked without you knowing how to use it. How can I steal this technology for myself? I thought, furtively rubbing my palms together. Hey, is it okay if I put my stuff under here? I shouted randomly. Nobody shushed me. I had purchased a toy gun for my husband at lunch, and it didn't quite fit all the way into my AALL bag. A nice lady told me to hide it under the counter. Then she told me where they hid the lemonade for the volunteers. I had never volunteered at such a swank place before. Everything worked AND they had treats. By the time I was settled in with my lemonade, it was time to go. You're done, said the computer guy who was obviously the one behind the magic that made the registration work. Thanks! I said, picking up my gun and gear and heading on. Y'all have fun! I breathed a small sigh of relief that I had made it through one of my personal and professional goals for the year: volunteering at AALL, without noticeably screwing anything up. I felt empowered. I immediately run into Mr. Mersky. He's at the counter. Hi, Mr. Mersky, I say (when I was in library school I worked at Tarlton). He grins at me. You know my wife, he says, If you see her, will you tell her I've gone back to the hotel. I'm standing in the middle of a convention of 2000 people, with a toy gun slung across my shoulder, looking for a lady I haven't seen in 4 years. I think, listen for the Australian accent. So I really do try for a while, but then I realize I probably am violating the PATRIOT ACT. So, of course, I curse myself for not knowing what's in the PATRIOT ACT and sidle on off to the escalators for a couple fun rides up and down. I go up and down twice oninued on page 4 P ECI

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