Tuesday, March 30, 2010

And that was the motivation...

Ramblings Post #92
Life is petty and cruel. In that order, and if I see fate I'm gonna kick her ass. Do I perhaps sound a little miffed? A wee bit perturbed? Less than jovial and brimming full of loving goodness? To quote a mentally stunted former Vice Presidential candidate: You betcha! And there is so little to go on. This is the dawning of a new age. Again.

After I got Sporty started on her project for the next few days, I figured it would be me, some law books and all the Kool-aid I could drink for the weekend. My Friday nights are usually reading, my Saturdays are the "extension" sessions, updating and more reading, and Sunday is yet more reading, what I call "pre-note taking", and any reading I might have trouble getting through.
Nice, quiet, industrious, boring. (I'm adding problem solving next week to prep for finals)

But Saturday the Black Law Student Association wants to go bowling. I'm not really up for bowling - I haven't been in ...well, I'm not really sure but I know it's not remotely recent... and so I chill at the crib, talking with Spanky who is manufacturing drama with her new man friend, and trying to figure out which subject I'm going to fall asleep reading tonight.
But then I get a call to come on out, meet your fellow law students, and so I put on some clothes and head out. It's a small group, but then there aren't THAT many black law students anyway so I wasn't a huge crowd. We do couples bowling so that everybody gets a few rolls ( of note, I bowled two strikes and a spare) and it's actually pretty fun. There is laughing, cheering , some playful ribbing and the like and after we finish up, most of us don't want to head home. They want to go dance.

So we end up at Aja.

I don't get out much any more, so the host of activities I normally would have been privy to is non-existent, and the only reason I even know about this function is that Spanky had talked about it earlier on the phone. So we end up at this restaurant turned club for one night, and for the first time in ages, I actually have to PAY to get into somewhere. Shock. My RP even checked me on it the next day. This was monumental in its own way.

Aja. On and poppin'

The night turns into old home week, folks I haven't seen in three or four or ten years fall out of the woodwork and I try to keep it moving all night. I float back to my little group a time or two, and that's when it happens.

I thought I was doing okay. My belt was at the last notch before I had to move down a size. Pants are a little loose. When I go downstairs while at work, my reflection in the tinted glass doors doesn't look especially bad. Years from now however, when I'll appear on the cover of Men's Health or some new fitness magazine and they'll ask what motivates you to get out do those things I do to get into shape. And I'll give them my soon to be trademarked wry grin and tell them : At a law school outing someone took a picture of me.

I would say they got my bad side, but that implies I have good one. Next to the much fitter, much younger male archetype (who happens to be a classmate), I looked like somebody's fat uncle. Somebody's fat drunk uncle and I WASN'T EVEN DRINKING!!! I'm tempted to print the picture out and put it in my wallet so that I'll start getting my ass up in the morning to work out.

My next post might be from Piedmont park.

And no, I'm not gonna link to the photo....

Barkeep! A double shot of Slimfast and wheatgerm!

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