Why Do Things Happen

Eight years ago, things were not as simple. We were poor, childless, and I was a thirty something law student. Now, we have two kids and one more coming in June. I am a licensed, non-practicing attorney. What will the future hold? Something terrible? Something wonderous? Who the heck knows? All I know is that this place has no one watching, so I can say what I want and no one is there to view it. A bit liberating. At least until my kids find this place.

Hello Again Wonky World

Yeah! Day two of blogging and not a single non-American or non-Russian search bot has even graced its presence. That's cool. This blog don't need no haters anyhow.

I Return

Hey Bitches,

It's been about 8 years. I am a lawyer who doesn't practice and I have accrued over half a million dollars in debt chasing this convoluted Amurican dream. What have you all been up to?

Dizzying Highs Terrifying Lows

Stuck in the man cave all evening, working through the last 40 pages of reading for a last class. I also got an internship researching certain kinds of murder that stem from repressed sexual tensions. Totally unpaid, but so far very rewarding.

My good days are officially over. I have a final project due in less than a week and a presentation to go with it. After that, a four day cram session for two exams the week after. I am rocking out to Alabama's Roll On and thinking about my family. I don't know when I will see them again, but I am certain that it won't be this year.

The in-laws came into town for Thanksgiving. I got absolutely nothing done over the long break and am now scrambling to catch up to two weeks behind everything. I did manage to help put together a 1000 piece puzzle. The wife went to Mass with an 80 year-old woman from work. All I need is early onset Alzheimer's and I can officially enter my twilight years. Maybe the seasonal effective disorder will help speed along the process.

In other news, it is fucking cold out. The sun goes down at 4:00 PM. I am living in a vibrant city full of art and culture, but all I want to do is go home and go to bed until Spring. This is living. I have sat through several presentations at school in the hopes of a free lunch. In my decision to choose the legal profession, there is the idea that networking is critical to a successful career. That, and the ability to work an 80 hour week for 51 weeks a year and not develop a debilitating drug habit. What in the fuck was I thinking. I live like a nursing home resident and study like a neurotic teenager with overbearing parents. Ugh.

On a positive note, I have been having some of the weirdest, most vivid dreams of my entire life, which brings me back to a story from my youth. I remember specifically that once a year, every year, I would have a dream recounting my adventures from the entire year. This happened from the age of eight to about twelve, then puberty hit and I am sure the sudden discovery of masturbation destroyed that section of my subconscious that kept these dreams rolling. But I digress. At eleven, I began writing my dreams down. The journal has long since ended up on a burn pile along with the fifty volumes of shitty Bukowski tribute poetry that made me think I was special in high school and the first three years of college. Anyway, writing the dreams down helped me remember the dreams to this day (I should really be writing about the dream I had where Hitler conquered a small town in western Missouri in 1974, then started the first successful wholesale chain store dealing specifically in Japanese tentacle porn... too soon. Too soon.).

Anyhow, at 11, I had my dream of the events of the year. Freddy Krueger was chasing me through a convention center. Booths were set up displaying key events of the past year. That prick bully who screamed like a four year old girl when I bloodied my own nose in front of him and flung three red drops on his whiter-than-white catholic school uniform shirt laughed from his booth as Krueger disemboweled him. My dog Moses looked up at me from a display of my parent's old living room, audibly farted, and laid on his side as I ran by. Krueger was stopped by the funk. I saw Einstein sitting on a silver throne, holding a glowing crystal I assumed was an atom. He said something to me that I don't remember, but I was put at ease. I woke up. I was standing in the hallway. Apparently, I had become a sleepwalker.

I remember this because a couple of weeks ago I was watching television late into the night. A channel on the rabbit ears plays movies from the 70s and 80s and is the only thing on that isn't an infommercial after 1:00 AM. A movie called the Dungeonmaster was on, starring the guy who played Bull on Night Court as Satan. It sucked, but it was better than a perpetual loop of Snuggie commercials. Anyway, about halfway through the movie, there was a scene where the hero and his love interest were trapped in a wax museum of history's vilest abominations. There was a werewolf, Jack the Ripper, an African, and... Einstein. Sitting in a chair. Holding a glowing crystal. The hero threw the crystal at the animated werewolf and Jack the Ripper, as tribal spears whipped overhead.

My childhood was a sham of shitty movies.

I still sleepwalk.

But only when I am hammered.

Then I piss on random things.

Last time was a couple of weeks ago when I crashed at a law school buddy's apartment. Half in the carpeted hallway, half on the hardwood kitchen floor. On the other side of the apartment from his bathroom. If I had crashed at home that night, I would have made my own toilet with the precision of a spitting cobra lancing a Cheerio.

At least I've got that going for me.

Goody Gumdrops

Things are going much, much better right now. As in, this moment of time and space, this little, brief speck of dust on God's floor that he always sees when his is dropping a deuce of new universes into the grand scheme of things.

I gave a presentation in public and did not die, although my hands did not stop shaking uncontrollably until twenty minutes after I was finished. I am shy when I am sober, what can I say. I also got a project back and was expecting a terrible grade. I got the highest grade for the project that I have ever received since I started this abortion of learning called law school. It was uplifting.

Friday, I have an interview for an unpaid internship. I am interested in working for the place, even unpaid, but I have a feeling that all I will be doing is looking up murder statistics on federal websites. Does that really require an interview? Still, it's a resume builder.

I signed up for classes for the Spring. I only have to go to class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. The pisser is that I am in class from 9:00 to 7:00. Two one-hour breaks interspersed through the day, but still, that's a lot of time on the kiester.

Miss the family. Want to buy a dog and just take my banjo and hit the road. The wife has already said no to that plan, so I am going to work on income tax homework until I stop daydreaming about a hobo pack and a pocketful of shattered dreams.

Loves.

Goose Egg

No one comes around here anymore. It is slightly liberating, but a little drab knowing that not even the little G+ogle spiders aren't looking into this little corner of the ether anymore. I digress. I have been awake since 9:00 AM Sunday morning. I was working on a project for school that is due on Friday, when I randomly checked my syllabi for Tuesday and found out I had a project due today at 4:00 that I had not even looked at.

It is done and I am a big knot of nervous energy. I once went 4 days without sleeping. That was well before you couldn't buy ephedrine over the counter at every gas station and coffee houses were open 24-7. It's a wonder I got out of high school and community college with most of my teeth.

I have to read about 80 pages of crap for tomorrow morning and I have a 500 word essay on the power of networking due in two hours. The stress... oh God, the thigh slapping, razor blade in the crook of your knee stress... it might be getting to me now.

This weekend, I studied. I need to study harder, longer, faster, and better. And get some sleep.

Project due in 2 hours.

Project due on Friday.

Project due a week from next Monday.

Midterms sprinkled in.

I do not want to be a lawyer. If I have to put up with this shit as a student, what in the hell will the workplace be like?

Loves.

Today

On this date, 63 years ago, my father and personal hero, graced this earth with his presence. He is probably sleeping in the soft whir of air conditioning as I write this.

On this date, 7 years ago, the paperwork for my DUI was processed by the court. I read over the clerk documents with more clarity today. Thanks law school. As I read, I am once again disheartened by my choice to go to law school. What I would do instead is a complete mystery. I know for certain that I do not want to hold the power to remove someone's liberty from them. I am not sure if I can protect a stranger from having their liberty taken. Given my performance in class over the last year and a half, it is doubtful I can do anything for someone else.

The nights are getting long up here in the great white north. The days are already less than 12 hours. If I wake up with the sun, I am running 40 minutes late. If I go to bed before the sun comes up, I have forgotten to do something. This is no life. Friday, I learn how to roll on the banjo. After that, at least 3o minutes a day, right when I get home. The only excuse would be if I got home after 7. Don't want to disturb the neighbors.

Happy Birthday, Papa. I hope today is beautiful.

As for me, I'll be at the library if you need me.