Saturday, May 30, 2009

Actual Musings...

Ramblings Post #33
In the middle of the night, among mortal men and stout souls, those thoughts that find our minds open and willing are the musings that source from the dark end of the bar. It from there, a great number of the secrets of the life originate. Unfortunately, because like a tree falling in the forest, if nobody sober hears it, is the thought really profound?

The time when I start this is 1:27am EST.

It's Saturday morning, I've spent another night in the house. I'm not sure if I'm punishing myself or what, but although the promoter specifically told me to come, and asked what size sweater I wore so he could get me one, I did not attend Live From New York, a new happening with I think live music and a DJ...or something.

I also didn't go to the Delta's Swagger Party.

For the record, I'm tired of the term "swagger". Every three years we discover a new word or term, and we basically beat it to death. I remember trying to "get my swerve on", or when every other party was "the jump-off" and I'm just wondering when we'll all stop, breathe and try to be original. Is it that I'm old? Or think I'm getting old?

Or is that I realize the best rappers of today couldn't carry Ice Cube, Dana Dane or Biggie's luggage, much less carry on what they perfected.

I didn't go to the thing at Loca Luna, or the Comedy show at Leopard Lounge, or hit the Velvet Room, hell, I didn't even watch the game! Okay, about that, for the last three games, I've only tuned in at the start of the fourth quarter, usually around 11pm. Before that is dancing and shuffling. The networks lucked out on these Conference Finals, with all the last second heroics and tension. Now they can just get LeBron to the finals. They had a game watching party at Utopia...which means the game you could watch free, you can go there and watch....and buy drinks.

A few updates. Classes are classes. The two I'm taking this summer I actually like, and surprise, I seem to be actually learning!

It was short week at work, my name got bandied around for a new position, my defacto boss decided to actually do something project wise and they aren't changing the carpeting until next week, so I didn't have to move all the crap on my desk. Yay me.

Sporty hit me up this week. Then knocked me down. Then kept hitting me up until I felt okay...which is weird. It's like she knew.

I have brunch with Schmoopy tomorrow if I can find a brunch place. Where do people eat brunch in Dunwoody?

I have a spot that hurts, and if it still hurts tomorrow, I'm going to the doctor.

Ah hah! These would be musings! Now all I need is a bar!

I'm reaching a milestone, which much like all my previous milestones will quietly pass into the night as but a flash of signpost, a mysterious bump. But just because it more than likely won't be celebrated, doesn't mean I'm not thinking about the implications. What turning this age means.

Lately, my advice to younger men is to find a good woman...well, find the best woman available under current conditions...and settle down. Get married. I had a few opportunities, been asked but never asked anyone, and out here alone club hopping and party going at this age is starting to, and you can quote me, get old. In fact, my RP has been saying the same thing lately. Really, past 35, you need to seriously start considering it if you haven't.

Last weekend, which should have rated an update - my parents came to town, my pseudo niece graduated high school, my RP and I threw a party, I need to get my brother's rib recipe - but I was too lazy, too off and on. This weekend, other than Schmoopy and the doctor...

...I ain't trying to do much. A little homework. Maybe some house cleaning. Sleep.

It's now 1:54am EST. Ain't that something.

Barkeep. Tall glass of water. I'm thinking about giving up drinking...

Thursday, May 28, 2009


who am I
the small thoughts of a small mind twisted in the shape of hope incarnate
cast in the mold of dreams that last forever and left open to their fate
Dancing the molten core of pain I feel the blood or time run though my fingertips
and no matter how fast the music plays it never seems to skip

who am i
Smaller than I had presumed in my infantile moments of delusional bliss
and worth far less than the amount of soul I am prepared to risk
self confidence melts like a slushy snowball on hot summer midday
out of place in the very space that is all I have in which to play

who am i
fishing in the deepest water of the brackish pit of the mind's tide
I search for the bit of wisdom I can lift my life to from the inside
catching bits of stars that unfold into twinkling bits of dreams
There is less to the more of me than it seems.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

I'm doing it to myself

Ramblings Post #32
What are our triggers? Those things that actually spur us into action as opposed to those things that were supposed to spur us into action. A lot of my personal starters stem from puberty and the usually well suppressed memories and the teenage thinking inflated traumas contained therein. Sometimes it's an innocent comment that cuts to the core, a feeling, sometimes its a scent, but whatever the term, I think I should be in control of them. And I find out more and more, I'm not.

I ate a whole box of Nilla wafers in less than 24 hours.

I don't normally keep snack food in my house for just this reason. It was easy to get a few more, then a few more, then a napkin full and suddenly "where did the rest go?" Oh.

I picked up the box on a whim, because the people ate Wise haven't figured out the person doing the stocking in Atlanta is either an idiot or is hoarding the Crunchy Cheez Doodles for himself. If you double the price and it still sells out, so.... let's load up on a completely different product? (Note: to Wise Foods executive reading this I am a Publix shopper)

So I bought some Nilla wafers. Something haven't eaten in forever. They were so good.

And I ate the whole box.

I already feel big. Okay, check that...I feel fat. And since it's beginning to dawn on me that a sparkling wit and personality really doesn't offset a gut, I need to do something. I still remember that stinging comment I overheard, being described by a someone I met at a party as the "fat guy in the kitchen". I had not thought about that in a long time.

My gym membership is about to go big time.

Barkeep. Water. Large amounts.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Just a little offbeat

Ramblings Post #31
The only thing constant is change. The only think you can be absolutely sure of is that you can absolutely sure of absolutely nothing. Life is funny like that, just when I think things are going good things change...the question is if you can make the change work for the better, or will you have to back up and start over. I've been getting by on wit, charm and good luck so far, I may have to step up soon. I think I've been putting it off too long.

Last weekend I spent out for the first time in a long time, and it felt, well, odd.

Friday was around the proverbial corner at Spanky's house, where she was celebrating the 15th of May. Spanky is spe-shul. In any case she had a nice little crowd and as I understand it, killer margaritas. I didn't have any. The lively conversation was provided by a guy she invited from Facebook. As I said, she's spe-shul. This cat dominated the conversation with tales of old Atlanta, dirty jokes and lewd innuendo, which the two ladies on the far end of the couch ate up. I was surprised to find out later that they were mother and daughter, which brought up a whole new set of lewd innuendo. It was great little drop-in. Even Serve dropped by late which surprised me because I thought Serve and Spanky were on the outs.

And the photos taken that night prove I need to get mine ass back in the gym. Stat. I looked bloated, ghastly even.

The next morning was Habitat for Humanity, which is why I did not partake of the margaritas at Spanky's. There is something about an honest day's work and labor, and I'm thinking about doing that more often.

Saturday night, Spanky scooped me up and we headed up to Buckhead for Old School Saturday. I hadn't been in ages. I know that guys that run it, I was there when it started, and watched it grow up. That said, I enjoy a smaller situation now, something with few enough folks to make an impression, but a few new bodies to keep it lively. I'm not sure what is about the crowd in the ATL, but if Spanky hadn't been with me, I would have turned around. When I saw the crowd that flowed from the entrance...through the lobby... down the stairs.... around two corners and that's where I stopped looking, I was turned off. Spanky seemed determined however to get in: without standing in that line.

In the interest of full disclosure, Spanky is a VIP diva.

So after I got us in...don't was okay. The crowd was diverse, men in suits, brothers with designs cut into their hair, miniskirts and evening gowns. I know for a while I was trying to figure out when dress military jackets came into style. It was packed, the music brought back memories and it was good. But as I said, I'm a different vibe now. I like to know that folks I hang with....or at least know somebody I know knows them.

Sunday my RP had a lazy Sunday Cards/Playoff game gathering. A few of the gang fell though, spades was played, basketball watched and dominoes were There the single funniest event of the weekend happened. Three chicks roll in on a third hand invitation. No biggie, we're friendly folk so we make them welcome. Eventually two of them ask about the food, I invite them to help themselves and they do. The third girl saunters into the kitchen and asks one of my boys to "make her a plate". These are the first words she says to him. No Hi, no hello, no my name is xyz, or anything, just a command hiding behind a request. She's cute, but both her friends have guys names tattooed on their arms, so I'm certain she has a brand somewhere on her. My boy defers, invites her to help herself. She insists somebody has to put her food on a plate for her. My RP tells her she can eat all she wants. I tell her she's like family now..

And she never eats while she's there.

Her friends enjoy, but although we offer her a fork, empty plate and unfettered access to the food, she decides that if no one will serve her, she's not going to eat. They all leave shortly thereafter. We weren't sorry to see them go.

A little over a year ago, this weekend of a couple of spots and nice quiet Sunday hangout would have been just the thing. But I guess I've adapted to spending my evenings with my nose in a book...dedicated to education. Adaptation is survival. And since I've got a few more years of my evenings consumed with interpretations of the law...adaptation ain't a bad thing.

Barkeep...something summery.

Friday, May 15, 2009

Do we really want Barack the Magic Negro?

This is a political post

My president, and he's my president until he really fucks up and at that point my memory will get fuzzy, is catching some flak over this whole "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy and the dismissal of Lt. Dan Choi, a West Point grad and Iraq War vet. My president is being taken to task because while he indicated campaigning that discharging military personnel on the basis of sexual orientation during wartime was a waste of resources, now that he is in the White House, he's not doing anything about it when implored. When Jon Stewart, who has messed and become an actual news guy, starts in on you, well it can be said you've kind of screwed the pooch. Unless doing that will get you thrown out...I digress.

So why doesn't President Obama take a page from the book of President Harry Truman, who in 1948 simply issued an Executive Order to end military racial segregation, and just take out the old magic presidential pen and make everybody see it our way?

Two things. What is our way? And whose next?

Obama is not Superman.
Image by Alex Ross.

Much like African Americans had to get over the idea that having a black president meant everything changed instantly (it didn't), members of the Gay and Lesbian community need to get the same grip on reality. Everything is gonna take time.

Didn't we just vote out someone who abused the power to simply "decide" what was right? Or was it we voted out somebody who didn't decide the way "we" wanted? Wouldn't that be ironic? To simply to decree by executive fiat, which is what it would be, would be no more right now than it was in 1948. Yes, what Truman did to assist with the desegration of the races was wrong when he did it, even though it was the right thing to do. Why you ask? Because it circumvented the system. And we need the system. That system is pretty damn good.

In 1948 Truman got away with it because nobody expected a repeat. Obama isn't gonna get that luxury.

If President Obama simply signed and executive order tonight ending the "don't ask, don't tell" policy tonight, there would be nine special interest groups knocking on the West Wing doors by 8am tomorrow asking for similar action to correct an "injustice". I pulled the number nine out of my ass, but there would be three hundred by noon and countless more by dinner time. The pundits, talking TV heads and special interest groups would start a whole new round of vilification to get the president to magically fix something else. Rush Limbaugh's favorite song "Barack, the Magic Negro" would come to life.

And what happens when he makes a "decision" that "we" don't like? Or backfires? And who is we? I'm certain the Republicans that they were "we" when Dubya was making his "decisions" and they were doing "what was right", damn the system. And as we just witnessed, circumventing "the system" tends to mess things up. See example Wall Street, war on Terror, etc.

Man that's a lotta quotes.

In the military they instruct you to obey orders, and in this case they were not obeyed. That's a scary concept right there. Lt. Dan Choi knew the rule and broke it. Not because it was an illegal order, but because he did not agree with it. And that's not an excuse. And like all martyrs before him (not mention soldiers who failed to follow regulations), he will have to die on his metaphorical sword - in this case, before justice prevails. He has my sympathies.

In our age of instant everything, the idea of ongoing struggle seems to perplex us.

Let's do a little exercise. (The phrase "Yapple Dapple" comes from a cartoon I'm too lazy to explain, but it's used as a genie's magic phrase that makes things just poof into existence.) So...I personally don't agree with the "Don't ask, Don't tell" rule, and yes, I think it an ignorant bigoted waste of resources. So we should change that rule. Yapple Dapple. And I believe that men shouldn't be forced to pay child support for children who are not theirs. So that should be changed too. Yapple Dapple. I believe a credit card company shouldn't be able to raise your interest rates without cause. So he can just wave the wand and get that one as well. Yapple Damn Dapple. You know I also believe that the national speed limit should be as fast as your car can go. So we should change that rule too. Yapple Dapple. I don't like mean people and chicks who I like but who don't want to go out with me, so we need to... see where this is going. If we move the line, especially in this day and age, we have to ask where do we move it too? And who gets to make that decision? The system of checks and balances goes out the window. And there are number of people who would be happy with that...until he makes a decision they don't like. Then they'll want his head.

Which is why the President has decided not to touch the this whole issue. And that's kind of why we elected him.

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Day One

Ramblings Post # 30
With the change of the seasons, new performances open while other shows prepare to close their doors, hopefully with good reviews and no need to re-stage a production. We hope. They say that all of life is but a stage, and we as players come to strut our hour upon the stage only to heard from no more. And quite frankly think they are all sot. I'm playing my part, then sneaking back into the chorus.

My new law professor for the summer promises to be...well, and event unto itself. He is Bernie Mac doing a Southern Methodist preacher with touches of Col. Stabler in a court room full of scared students. The first two I'm fairly certain you can imagine...the last one I'll have to explain.

In High School back in ....that place I came from...we had a science professor who was retired military. Which war? I dunno, but I shudder to think of those who had to face him. He was this old white guy, in his mid to late sixties, with a crew cut and the same glasses they gave him the day he showed up for basic training. But he knew his stuff. And he wouldn't let you not know yours. He literally terrified you into learning.

That is my new law professor for Sales Law.

The class isn't that populated, and as fate would have it my seat on the seating chart is directly in front of the podium. We only had the one class and he already knows my name. Well. He called on it enough.

Let's just say this: You better have read the cases, understood the basics of them and be ready to give and answer you know.

Prof: "What section of the code controls here, Mr. (Terrified Student)?"

Student: "Well, I think..."

Prof: "You think? What do you mean you think? Which section controls here?"

Student: "Er, I..."

...and later on...

Prof: "What does the Statute of Frauds mean?"

Student 1: "Well, in transactions involving more than $500..."

Prof: "Who was your Contracts professor?"

Student 1: "Um, (Name of my contracts professor)."

Prof: "Oh, you had him? Well you know a simpler definition. He gave you one, I know because he doesn't know any big words."

Student 1 "It is a stipulation of law that"

Prof: "Are you kidding? I want the essence. Boil it down"

Student 1 "Er..."

Prof: "Mr.....(Another Terrified Student)

Student 2: (meekly) "Um...write stuff down?"

Prof: "Exactly. That a terms of a contract have to be written down. Or... do they?"

You see where this is going. I mean, this is DAY ONE. There are only four (2 guys, 2 girsl) of us as far as I can tell from the first year group, so I'm a little stunned that some of the older students weren't expecting this. As a professor he pulled answers like teeth with pliers and no anesthetic working his way around the room, calling on every single student. Those whose names he could remember he called frequently. And as I said, he figured out my name right quick.

Sure he was funny, cracking the occasional joke and intoning the concepts of law like verses of the bible. I kept half expecting him to start mentioning the building fund and the first offering. And more than once he let someone make three bad assumptions before showing them their error, asking questions and letting people give wrong answer then compounding their errors with more incorrectness.

He promises to be interesting. Once I get up enough courage to actually raise my hand to say something.

Barkeep. Whiskey. Leave the Bottle.

Monday, May 11, 2009

A House is not a Home

Ramblings Post #29
Sometimes you want to feel a certain way. You know, a feeling of how things are supposed to be. Like eating off of china instead of paper plates, or not being comfortable leaving the house until you've got your face on, or until you've had that first cup of coffee. Sometimes, and it's not always large or significant to anyone but just need certain things, certain ways.

How is a house supposed to feel?

My house feels like an over sized apartment. Due to financial constraints and an unwillingness to incur unnecessary debt, my house is basically the furniture from my former apartment plus appliances, spread out. I believe since I've moved in my major purchases have consisted of a step ladder and a picture frame. I only have a decent sized TV because Spanky went flat screen and thoughtfully left,er...donated her old TV to the cause. And since I've decide to go to graduate school, a modern decor makeover doesn't seem to be forthcoming anytime soon.

Which is kinda depressing when you consider how old I am.

Thus my house feels more like a place I'm staying as opposed to say, my house...which still mentally invokes my mother's home in the Cackalack, with it's warm and homey touches that come from just living there. It's my house, I pay the mortgage but I don't feel like a live there. I feel like it's temporary. Which is fucked up considering the housing market and the sad reality that I'm gonna be the a while (barring lottery windfall or lighting strike). I need to stop thinking about the other house I shoulda bought.

When I first moved in I purchased the interior design books: Metropolitan Home, Renovation Style, Home and Architectural Digest and the like, hoping to get some idea of what I wanted. And every week passes and my house continues to resemble a college kids apartment. It is singularly frustrating. You know how it is, every time you get a little bit ahead, something pops up...transmission on the car, dental work, something else...and bang you're eating popcorn on that couch one more Tuesday night.

They say you never grow up to your parents, and although my parents have visited, they seem content with it. Which is hella disconcerting. I'm fast approaching middle age, and since a man's home is his castle, I figured they would at least be on me about making some upgrades. But no, they seem fine with it's decor about fifteen years to young for me.

So I'm a little ashamed to have folks over because of where it is and what is in it...which is the whole of the thing. True my friends "understand"...but I'm uncomfortable with how it looks most of the time, its not them. Call it ego. I'm not looking for flashy, but at least up to standard, ya know. I kinda wish I was brought up like apparently everyone else and only cared if my rims was tight.

I so do not want to go into debt behind this. I may have no choice for my own sanity.

Barkeep. Would you be interested in selling those loungers by the

Saturday, May 9, 2009

Good Television?

Ramblings Post #29
It's the middle of the night. You just finished eating some pizza rolls, you're tired of re-reading the damages problem that as it turns out you won't figure out anyway ( and according to real attorney's you would hire an accountant to compute anyway ) and so you flip on the TV to let your mind relax from the mental fetal position it's been in for the past 3 months...and you get this...

Lately, I've been catching snippets between all the studying I was doing of something crazy. I actually saw some good television. Not seriously, and not just the Daily Show or that show on the History Channel I've never been able to catch the beginning of. I mean there are actually people out there who did not pay attention to legal or the focus group and went ahead and took a shot and came up with decent footage.

We all know bad television. It's called American Idol or Lost or goes by one of a hundred other names and you either know what's coming for the next twenty minutes in the first 5 minutes (commercials people, commercials) or you stopped caring when you lose track of who is supposed to be doing what this episode because you didn't watch the last 10 episodes. Good television, or a good movie, makes you care...or at least get interested... in the characters on the screen for the next little bit. And lately, with rare exception, television hasn't been doing that. Or at least that little bit I was watching.

A few weeks ago, on a Saturday at midnight, tired of looking at my Contracts II notes I turned on a new GI Joe movie on the Cartoon Network. I was amazed. It looked good, sounded like they actually had looked up a factoid or two and unlike every other GI Joe cartoon I had ever seen...PEOPLE DIED. Like the shot soldiers and they died. I was stunned. In the old cartoons the bad guys always ejected just in time or ran in that goofy way that said they skimped on the animation. But this was so good I watched it all before going to sleep at like something AM. It was so good I would buy it on DVD. There is unfortunately no way the live action film will be half as good as this.

Which is a whole other argument I have with people who don't want to give away anything, when the reality is people would actually buy the stuff the like...after they've bootlegged it!

And just recently I watched on Comedy Central's Krod Mandoon and the Flaming Sword of Fire, a hilarious comedy in the mold of Brisco County Jr (another classic) set in an age of swords and sorcery. When the villain stabs the wrong sycophant, then snidely turns to his aide and goes "I thought we were going to get names on the backs of these chairs. Let's make than an action item," I nearly fell off my couch. The villain as played by Matt Lucas of Little Britain fame is so casually evil he quickly makes you wonder why you even believe other villains need to employ histrionics. This DVD will be a buy as well.

Oooh, look at me, participating in the free market system all the wrong way. I already got the product and now I want to contribute.

And this was just what I could catch. Is television making a comeback?

Barkeep. A tall glass of orange koolaid and ....well, if they were still MAKING cheez doodles...

Friday, May 8, 2009

Last of the Spring Cordials

Ramblings Post #28
As I stood there Thursday night in the lobby, surrounded by fellow students and professors suggesting I go get drunk (great school by the way) since we'd just knocked it down, I wanted to do a lot of things. I wanted to scream in frustration, I wanted dance in a circle, I really wanted to go the bathroom. Life is a lot of things, and when it gets good, you get a nice quiet clean bathroom...and confidence.

The last final is in the books. And Summer School starts on Monday.

It's been a long strange trip to here, and as I see on the horizon the vestiges of my current employment being stripped away - hey, they still love me but really want to automate as much as possible, and since I'm planning on filing towards the exit in the next 24 months if only to a job in a legal field - I'm just gonna keep it moving. Like I have a choice. Life is funny that way, in that despite your best efforts....IT JUST KEEPS GOING. Even when you just need a break.

I also remember why I don't take a lot of breaks, since I took off six whole days over three weeks to prep for my finals. I don't like missing work...and given a chance to take my eye off the ball I lose focus and drive. I surely lost focus on this job. I really really did not want to come to work this morning. Not at all. I futzed around the house as long as I could, prepared to start laundry and begin mopping to delay the inevitable. But since I've grown to enjoy light, water and food I finally went on and made my way in.

I also remember why independently wealthy would be bad for me without personal projects. With the tests looming, I would wake up, study, take a break, study, eat, study, take a break, study, study, make dinner, study, watch a little TV, study and repeat the next day until test time. You snatch out studying and I'm boring.

I'm like a stand up comic who sucks on film. I need an audience to give me feedback. And since the past few days have been me and tomes of legal knowledge...well, I have no audience. Other than the little neighborhood pest I have been too nice too, and now will not stop coming by my house. I need people. I need a group of my peers. Who are not sweating out a final.

Now we get down to the other two or three things I have to get done, aside from find my books and see if there is reading before the first class, see if there is anyway to get into this other class, and pay my summer tuition (out of my pocket - no student loan!), clean up house, get my student loans arranged for the fall, get started on my yard before it washes the heck away (damned sloped lot), and generally get on with getting on. Oh yeah, and some trim.

What that will actually entail is a bit of mystery.

Barkeep...a shot of the brown. The good brown. You know.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

The Doctor is IN

Ramblings Post #27
When you need I need to be focused sometimes I take my eyes of the ball, because first I can and second because life is usually more than one thing. The trick to life is balance, understanding, lots o' cash and apparently six pack abs. I have the first two, I'm working on the other. Really, I am. So what's new in the zoo? Balance..

When I was first considering what I was going to do with the rest of my life, back when I was 17 and the world was too big for me to fully comprehend, or see, or really even get a decent grasp on, I truly considered the position of psychologist or what we would call today a therapist. I still remember that statement one of my extremely vigilant friends made when I was in high school, my problem he told me was that I gave a damn.

I still do.

I once had a woman I was seriously interested in reject me because I "come off like a friend or a buddy", indicating that my actual interest in her as a person seemed to be a big turnoff. Which begets the question, why do women get mad when men treat them like objects, when they don't appreciate men who treat them like people? But I digress. That's a whole other post. But I genuinely like people, so what can I do? And yes, I realize had I actually called some of those numbers I've cavalierly tossed due to my ego (or laziness) I might not be in this predicament.

C'est la vie.

Just because you're playing doesn't mean everyone else is...

What I really am is lonely. Sporty and converse regularly, but she's four states away and I need the intimacy that comes from actually being around a person. Not necessarily the physical (okay, the physical too) but more the quiet moments and "shared air" if you will. I checked on FB and since my love language is time and attention (Quality Time), the whole shared air thing fits. And school has had me hemmed up to the possibility of even hanging out with anyone. So my dance card isn't only empty, I'm not even sure where it is. Or if I want to pick it up if I find it.

I guess what really brought this on is that Schmoopy, who just decided to end something is already into something else with a new guy. As an unlicensed untrained buddy therapist and bartender, she consults me when she gets relationship frustrated, which generally happens when everything isn't easy or magical...which as I understand it is never. She's a bright girl, and since my therapy is usually listening to them work it out on their own, or gently suggesting the answer is "within"...she'll figure it out.

I say them because Spanky, Serve, Slim and many others have utilized my unadvertised, unpaid service. Life is funny. And I'm going to school to be a lawyer...

I guess I'm a little envious of ability of the fairer sex to have so many options that in reality the frustrations come down to making your pick work, as opposed to trying to get picked. It's the difference between a coach trying to make a play work...and regardless there is a game on Sunday, and a player trying to get drafted. (Sharperson method). It's the difference between knowing and hoping. The difference between getting a check on Friday and hoping to hit on fantasy five. But then I guess I'm gonna be envious for a long time, cause I don't see that changing anytime soon.

Oh yeah, let me get back to studying for this FINAL. That's what I'm supposed to be doing.

Barkeep, ice water with a squeeze of the lemon and some B12. Man I'm tired.

Saturday, May 2, 2009

All Quiet on the Education Front

Ramblings Post #26
This started as one of those moments, one of those instances that you could see coming but couldn't, it was in legal parlance, foreseeable. And then I ran with it, or so I thought. Honestly, I need a drink. And some trim. And not in that order.

Is this is #26 because although them last two ain't numbered, ramblings is what they were.

Part 1 - 5:45pm

This part is being written 15 minutes before the Contracts Exam. To get my mind off the test, before I have a freaking heart attack. This professor is Dr. Diabolical, and I'm kinda scared of what he's gonna come up with.

It's open book. Well, open outline. Hell, it's open everything but professional study guides. Which means he's got the honest right to pull out everything and a chicken sandwich, since we were supposed to have written down everything. I started my outline at spring break, then realized I was taking crappy notes, then again at the beginning of the month..and went at it today tong and hammer. And everybody answers the question "are you ready?" the same way, with a grunt and halfway smile of feigned courage.

The word part doesn't phase's the math. Yeah, math in law. Who knew? Damages calculations.

And a special side note on a completely different topic, my doctor shouldn't call with blood work results in less than 48 hours, because promptness made me think I'd caught the latent swine flu.

This kinda like reality TV, where I'm in the little interview thing talking about what you're seeing. This is so not cool.

Part 2 - 11:48pm

The test is over and the tension in my gut has me reliving high school football games from 20 years ago. Back then I had what you call a nervous stomach, in that I would get tense before a game. Afterward, as I relaxed after finding out I hadn't broken anything, or conversely at that time - broken anyone else either, I would have a, er, gastric reaction.

This is a "blast" from the past. Pun.

I've only eaten the once today, a midday breakfast kinda like the astronauts. I didn't stop on the way home and now I'm contemplating cooking. At midnight.

The test by the way was a repeat of the previous, in that I either actually did know the material, or over prepared, or am currently in a state where I believe I knew what I was doing and will be rudely awakened around grade time. My nemesis, the math problem was cool, then not cool when I saw what looked like a typing error, then real uncool when when my check sum didn't come out right. Then extra uncool when it starting eating up time for the problems I did know. (Yeah, it's all timed out)

Why after the test I was in the parking lot re-running the numbers on my calculator, still not getting it. I would feel a lot worse, except I showed all my work which should count for something, and when I got out of the room three or four other folks were expressing the same consternation I was. So I'm not alone. I think one even admitted he read the question wrong.

The rest of the test I was real cool with, since it was application of principles. Here's hoping I was able to express myself properly. Weirdly, I feel good about this one as well.

(that having been said, I hope I didn't just jinx myself)

Part 3 - 2:00am

Revisiting that phone call earlier. The one from the doc. Everything came out sweet except my Cholesterol, which the doctor says is too high. I could have told him that walking in.

That and since last fall I've gained 30 pounds. I understand it's grad school, but I've apparently doubled up on the freshman 15, and all while I could have sworn I was losing weight. Unless my pants have stretched out shape. This only reinforces the personal mandate to get thine ass to the gym. I had started on morning push ups and I'll have to get back to that, but I cannot live at this weight. I'm a little too vain.

As a single man looking for a woman, it seems a gut, no matter how lovable, is not really a selling point. Not that I have a gut...well, much of a gut. Okay I don't have a potbelly if that's what you want, but I could lose more than a few pounds. Let it be known, you want truth, look at yourself naked in a mirror. It doesn't get much more honest than that. And honestly, I took a look and I got a lot of work to do. I don't like what I see so how can really expect anyone else too? School has me slacking.

Oh, and Thomas is back on his fast. 60 days this time I believe. And yeah, not eating for 60 days will knock the weight off, but I ain't the one.

Also, at midnight, I made a steak sandwich and cut up fresh potatoes for homemade french fries. So tomorrow, er...later today, I'll check out what constitutes an low cholesterol diet.

Barkeep...isn't alcohol low in carbs? Um..cholesterol?