Mental Rehab Post #29
A lot of things are just that...things. One of the great bits of personal advice in the twenty first century isn't a lyrical concept on wings of gossamer, or even a statement you can live by, but a three word chant that distills life down to it's essence: Keep it moving. It implores us not to dwell on our failures or even take the time to celebrate our successes before we move onto whatever is next. I wonder how much life we miss, because we just kept going. A lot of pain I'm sure, but a great deal of personal growth as well. Has it really come to this?
I stopped listening to "real" radio last fall. I stopped listening because of Sporty and the fact that every other song on the radio is about sex (rap music and modern R&B) or about love and sex (r&b oldies) and so to keep from depressing myself I switched to classic music. Which has like no words and great themes and well, I've grown to really like it more than I did when I started listening.
Thinking back, I'm fairly certain there was Latin music alternative I should have tried.
I love music. I used to listen to everything: country western, rap, soul, African rhythms, jazz, folk music, bluegrass, Gregorian chants, sitars, in short pretty much anything with a harmony.
So this week I said hey, it's been a year and I said hey, jeez, how bad could it still be?
First, I did not even know Ricky Smiley had a morning show on 107.9. What happened to the A-team? Second, it still hurt a lot. A whole lot. And the oldies station weren't no better. What are the odds somebody would be playing a Luther song? Damn! First day back and you send out Luther? Just cut to the bone why don't you? Damn, let a brother ease back in!
So it was back to WABE and now I'm thinking about making a pledge as part of their listener membership drive. Man, I am in bad shape.
Honestly, some of the music makes me think of back when I used to dream the Sporty and I had a future. Okay, between us... I had even picked out the first song I wanted to play for the first dance at *gasp* our wedding. This will fade. Eventually. Maybe I need to just dive in and take the pain until it doesn't hurt anymore, just go on and listen to it all night and day. Or maybe I need to join a nice monastery.
Barkeep. Some of the communion wine with a beer back.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Odd Quotes
The moment we stop chasing our dreams is the moment we stop living and start just going through the motions.
- Me at 2:35am. (Sent to Shade and Sporty)
- Me at 2:35am. (Sent to Shade and Sporty)
Monday, October 13, 2008
Weekends on the slow and easy
Mental Rehab Post #28
And in the beginning, I really wanted to get drunk so I could forget all that had transpired, but then I realized that I couldn't get that drunk or consume that much alcohol in one sitting. And that I really didn't want to forget her. So I'm kinda stuck. And like life it isn't always pretty, but it's what I got so I'm gonna deal with it.
Let's see, so little happened, where to begin?
Friday night, I stayed home and read through cases in Westlaw and some in Lexis, for my upcoming paper. I'm still not sure what I'm looking for.
Saturday...oh yeah, I read some of my class reading. I pretty much resigned myself to the idea that I will taking the library class over again. I believe I missed it by that >< much. It's a pass/fail course so close doesn't matter, and when I counted up the ones on the final I was shaky with, that number was awful close to the line. Oh well. I moped about the house and felt sorry for myself. I went to the grocery store.
Around two a.m philosophical inspiration struck, so I sent out one of my "inspirational texts."
Sunday... I read some more. Then I slept. Then I read even some more some more. I started on my outline for one class since we are moving to a new section on Tuesday. Sporty and I chatted briefly via modern communication, and I've figured out we don't' talk much anymore not because we don't have anything to say, but that we don't want to hurt each others feelings. She knows how I feel, and even now I still don't want her to be out of my life forever I don't talk about everything, so our conversations have become VERY SPECIFIC. She asks about school, my folks, she tells me what she's doing specifically, I ask about the topic she wants to talk about, I try to give her inspiration.
Spanky moved back to town, she'd been doing an overseas gig but things are rough all over. When we spoke last week she was depressed. This week however she is so busy trying to jump start hanging out I only spoke to her on Sunday when she had a moment to catch her breath. She decided a hotel would let her come and go as she pleased...and that my neighborhood is still probably a little too transitiony.
Then I read some more. And outlined kinda. I need to find that disc with the outline samples on it.
I think I whiffed the first one, so I gotta go back in there and get them other three. No excuses.
Barkeep. Something philosophical. Martini, dry? Sounds about right.
And in the beginning, I really wanted to get drunk so I could forget all that had transpired, but then I realized that I couldn't get that drunk or consume that much alcohol in one sitting. And that I really didn't want to forget her. So I'm kinda stuck. And like life it isn't always pretty, but it's what I got so I'm gonna deal with it.
Let's see, so little happened, where to begin?
Friday night, I stayed home and read through cases in Westlaw and some in Lexis, for my upcoming paper. I'm still not sure what I'm looking for.
Saturday...oh yeah, I read some of my class reading. I pretty much resigned myself to the idea that I will taking the library class over again. I believe I missed it by that >< much. It's a pass/fail course so close doesn't matter, and when I counted up the ones on the final I was shaky with, that number was awful close to the line. Oh well. I moped about the house and felt sorry for myself. I went to the grocery store.
Around two a.m philosophical inspiration struck, so I sent out one of my "inspirational texts."
Sunday... I read some more. Then I slept. Then I read even some more some more. I started on my outline for one class since we are moving to a new section on Tuesday. Sporty and I chatted briefly via modern communication, and I've figured out we don't' talk much anymore not because we don't have anything to say, but that we don't want to hurt each others feelings. She knows how I feel, and even now I still don't want her to be out of my life forever I don't talk about everything, so our conversations have become VERY SPECIFIC. She asks about school, my folks, she tells me what she's doing specifically, I ask about the topic she wants to talk about, I try to give her inspiration.
Spanky moved back to town, she'd been doing an overseas gig but things are rough all over. When we spoke last week she was depressed. This week however she is so busy trying to jump start hanging out I only spoke to her on Sunday when she had a moment to catch her breath. She decided a hotel would let her come and go as she pleased...and that my neighborhood is still probably a little too transitiony.
Then I read some more. And outlined kinda. I need to find that disc with the outline samples on it.
I think I whiffed the first one, so I gotta go back in there and get them other three. No excuses.
Barkeep. Something philosophical. Martini, dry? Sounds about right.
Monday, October 6, 2008
Quiet Moments in the Fall
Mental Rehab Post #27
School has been 'berry 'berry good to me. School has done something that I don't think I would have been able to do on my own. Which is for large parts of the day I am able to put a vast number of personal second guesses out of my head. For the most part I can live in the moment. When it gets quiet, or given a few extra seconds in the decision making process, I can overthink something sideways. School hasn't allowed much of that. Thanks School.
Last night Shade called from DC. She's doing her residency in Chocolate City and like women do in the movies, she stopped an took a moment to enjoy one of the small pleasures of life. She called me as she watched the sunset from the Thomas Jefferson Memorial among young families and younger lovers (possibly arranging a menage - her words not mine), just to talk. If she'd had a extra foamy frappacinco and been wearing a Versace she could have been a walk-on in Sex in the City 2.
We stayed on the phone for an hour talking about nothing in the way that friends do, me neglecting my studies for a few minutes of personal connection. It might have been the best thing I did all weekend.
Speaking of the weekend, I spent most of it studying, just like I was supposed to. Yeah me! I woke up Saturday and read through most of the material, then went to brunch with Schmoopy, who so-that-every-body-knows for her birthday raised money for charities in Africa. She's doing Habitat for Humanity again later this month and I thought I might do it again, but it all depends on my educational outlook. The open legal memo is looking a little harder than I thought...gee like that's a shock.
Schmoopy and I talked about Sporty, and why it's unhealthy that I'm still there. We both agreed that my thoughts were unrealistic. She also understood that emotions are hardly logical. That would be why we call them emotions. She extolled the concept we both should endeavor to treat our emotions like we treat our bank accounts. We both know we'll fail. Schmoopy is cool.
Then Spanky asked via text from Scotland if she could move in with me until she can get the tenants evicted from her house, which like a whole other story I'm still confused about.
Then I went back to the house and got to studying. I should be ashamed of myself because in reading I'm finding answers to questions that I only guessed at earlier, which means I didn't read the first time. Right there on page six of handout eight is the answer to that question I guessed at three weeks ago. Oops. For background sounds switched from Real Jazz on DirectTV to Watercolors, which has even less words and sounds more like elevator music. For studying it's great.
Sunday I made my grandmother's biscuits for breakfast. It took me eight years to perfect this recipe and it only has three ingredients. There are no measurements, you just know when it's right. And they were. Then I went to the library and studied until the tutoring session for my Monday class started. I learned more in that 75 minutes than I have in the last three classes. I also learned how to answer the Prof's test questions and a few tips for extra points. Again with the Yay me. (Yeah and Yay me are in lieu of more ethnic but less translatable "aww suki suki now" or "Booyah!" - Thanx Mgmt).
By the way, I'm getting tired of watching the Cowboys via highlights on SportsCenter. And I saw where the Colts pulled it out so I know Sporty's happy.
Sunday night was my talk with Shade, and then I did my reading for Monday's class, the test is for one of the Wednesday classes, and in reading got all confused again. I'ma need to email the tutor.
All quiet on the bar front.
Barkeep...a little whiskey and apple juice. Trust me.
School has been 'berry 'berry good to me. School has done something that I don't think I would have been able to do on my own. Which is for large parts of the day I am able to put a vast number of personal second guesses out of my head. For the most part I can live in the moment. When it gets quiet, or given a few extra seconds in the decision making process, I can overthink something sideways. School hasn't allowed much of that. Thanks School.
Last night Shade called from DC. She's doing her residency in Chocolate City and like women do in the movies, she stopped an took a moment to enjoy one of the small pleasures of life. She called me as she watched the sunset from the Thomas Jefferson Memorial among young families and younger lovers (possibly arranging a menage - her words not mine), just to talk. If she'd had a extra foamy frappacinco and been wearing a Versace she could have been a walk-on in Sex in the City 2.
We stayed on the phone for an hour talking about nothing in the way that friends do, me neglecting my studies for a few minutes of personal connection. It might have been the best thing I did all weekend.
Speaking of the weekend, I spent most of it studying, just like I was supposed to. Yeah me! I woke up Saturday and read through most of the material, then went to brunch with Schmoopy, who so-that-every-body-knows for her birthday raised money for charities in Africa. She's doing Habitat for Humanity again later this month and I thought I might do it again, but it all depends on my educational outlook. The open legal memo is looking a little harder than I thought...gee like that's a shock.
Schmoopy and I talked about Sporty, and why it's unhealthy that I'm still there. We both agreed that my thoughts were unrealistic. She also understood that emotions are hardly logical. That would be why we call them emotions. She extolled the concept we both should endeavor to treat our emotions like we treat our bank accounts. We both know we'll fail. Schmoopy is cool.
Then Spanky asked via text from Scotland if she could move in with me until she can get the tenants evicted from her house, which like a whole other story I'm still confused about.
Then I went back to the house and got to studying. I should be ashamed of myself because in reading I'm finding answers to questions that I only guessed at earlier, which means I didn't read the first time. Right there on page six of handout eight is the answer to that question I guessed at three weeks ago. Oops. For background sounds switched from Real Jazz on DirectTV to Watercolors, which has even less words and sounds more like elevator music. For studying it's great.
Sunday I made my grandmother's biscuits for breakfast. It took me eight years to perfect this recipe and it only has three ingredients. There are no measurements, you just know when it's right. And they were. Then I went to the library and studied until the tutoring session for my Monday class started. I learned more in that 75 minutes than I have in the last three classes. I also learned how to answer the Prof's test questions and a few tips for extra points. Again with the Yay me. (Yeah and Yay me are in lieu of more ethnic but less translatable "aww suki suki now" or "Booyah!" - Thanx Mgmt).
By the way, I'm getting tired of watching the Cowboys via highlights on SportsCenter. And I saw where the Colts pulled it out so I know Sporty's happy.
Sunday night was my talk with Shade, and then I did my reading for Monday's class, the test is for one of the Wednesday classes, and in reading got all confused again. I'ma need to email the tutor.
All quiet on the bar front.
Barkeep...a little whiskey and apple juice. Trust me.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
It just keeps going and going...
Mental Rehab Post #26
Just when I thought I could make a few bucks selling gas locks, they up and get enough gas. Ain't this about a kool-aid drinking trick. Okay it isn't, but since I've been reliving the bad moments of my life for the past few days -- too hard a job, too much school work, too little anything else -- I figured why not look back on missed opportunities too. Load'em up, move'em out.
I finished the paper in the wee hours of Monday morning, and at work check it and make final corrections and adjustments until 4:30 and turn it in with a time stamp of 5:30pm, a full half hour before deadline. Now I can relax for a little bit and get the rest of my studies in line...right?
Wrong. The next paper...er, sorry, let's use the correct terms here...the next "legal memo" is already in play. It's still focused, relatively so, but other than the main case we're pretty much free to research whatever we want. Any of maybe fifty thousand cases. Which is great. Provided I didn't have anything else to do.
Which it turns out strangely enough I do.
The first tricky test is next week. The one they claim is simple but every year someone manages to fail. It's the test of understanding research materials - the law digests, the legal reports, what's federal, when whatever is updated, why would you use X - and although I've got a fair grasp of the subject I just don't want to be that one who stumbles out of the gate. We're still a fairly cohesive bunch, but since grades are curve driven (didn't know that, did you?) you can see that shark glint in an eye or two already. So much much studying is in order this weekend. And I'm taking off the day of the test, to get my mind right. And cram the rest of what I don't already know in there.
Sporty and I ....yes, we still talk....on BB messenger.... had a quick chat and she misses Atlanta, that there is no place like it. I should have told her she's in a new town, with new circumstances and she's just missing the familiar like I would have told any of my other friends. Instead unrealistic hopes leapt into my head and I just agreed with her. So that went, as they used to say sarcastically in the movies, swimmingly. If I'm gonna be a friend I gotta be a friend.
So let's recap. I need to study for my test next week. I need to tighten up on all my studies. I need to beef up the home security. I need to clean up the beefed up secured house. I need to get my car fixed. I need to get my car fixed up. I need to get my mind unhooked from Sporty. Some consensual nudity of a sort would be nice (funny how those two ran together). I need to schedule things a little tighter and stop wasting cash. I need to get my mind right. And I probably should get back to work.
(several hours later)
Barkeep... a wheatgrass and gin shot.
Just when I thought I could make a few bucks selling gas locks, they up and get enough gas. Ain't this about a kool-aid drinking trick. Okay it isn't, but since I've been reliving the bad moments of my life for the past few days -- too hard a job, too much school work, too little anything else -- I figured why not look back on missed opportunities too. Load'em up, move'em out.
I finished the paper in the wee hours of Monday morning, and at work check it and make final corrections and adjustments until 4:30 and turn it in with a time stamp of 5:30pm, a full half hour before deadline. Now I can relax for a little bit and get the rest of my studies in line...right?
Wrong. The next paper...er, sorry, let's use the correct terms here...the next "legal memo" is already in play. It's still focused, relatively so, but other than the main case we're pretty much free to research whatever we want. Any of maybe fifty thousand cases. Which is great. Provided I didn't have anything else to do.
Which it turns out strangely enough I do.
The first tricky test is next week. The one they claim is simple but every year someone manages to fail. It's the test of understanding research materials - the law digests, the legal reports, what's federal, when whatever is updated, why would you use X - and although I've got a fair grasp of the subject I just don't want to be that one who stumbles out of the gate. We're still a fairly cohesive bunch, but since grades are curve driven (didn't know that, did you?) you can see that shark glint in an eye or two already. So much much studying is in order this weekend. And I'm taking off the day of the test, to get my mind right. And cram the rest of what I don't already know in there.
Sporty and I ....yes, we still talk....on BB messenger.... had a quick chat and she misses Atlanta, that there is no place like it. I should have told her she's in a new town, with new circumstances and she's just missing the familiar like I would have told any of my other friends. Instead unrealistic hopes leapt into my head and I just agreed with her. So that went, as they used to say sarcastically in the movies, swimmingly. If I'm gonna be a friend I gotta be a friend.
So let's recap. I need to study for my test next week. I need to tighten up on all my studies. I need to beef up the home security. I need to clean up the beefed up secured house. I need to get my car fixed. I need to get my car fixed up. I need to get my mind unhooked from Sporty. Some consensual nudity of a sort would be nice (funny how those two ran together). I need to schedule things a little tighter and stop wasting cash. I need to get my mind right. And I probably should get back to work.
(several hours later)
Barkeep... a wheatgrass and gin shot.
Monday, September 29, 2008
A New Kind of Weekend
Mental Rehab Post #25
Sometimes there are no excuses. You have to stand up and do those things that have to be done, make those moves that have to be made, damn the personal cost. And so this weekend when the nightlife was running hot and my alter ego was rolling his cage back and forth I did what had to be done. I studied.
And it's come to this?
These weekend updates have gotten way easy since I stopped doing anything.
My sole weekend adventure was in the form of joining the hunt for fuel on Friday night, as in Atlanta we have the weirdest little gas shortage going on. Due to an EPA restrictions, the city of only gets an ultra clean low sulfur summer gas (with gasititve additives and a twist of lime) but due to the Hurricanes in the Gulf earlier this year that special blend is in short supply. So everyday in Atlanta the good folks get together and re-enact the the scenes of cars waiting for gas you see in those pictures from the 70s.
I had tweaked it down to the fumes even with limiting my trips all week, but live on the Westside, work on the northwest side and go to school downtown, so I can only do so much.
Friday night, with the hand three microns above empty I set out. All total by my count I passed about thirteen gas stations, only one of which had gas where I actually waited in line for 15 minutes before giving up (the line hadn't moved) before I found a gas hideout. Or a fuel oasis, if you will. Oh there was line, but it was maybe a five minute wait. Five minutes. And no limit. Yes, in parts of the city they limit you, which is kinda screwed up since it means you'll just be back in line sooner.
So with a full tank of gas and memo to write, the only thing that could happen did.
Of course, my sinuses closed up. I mean like completely. No air. So I eke out the outline and general gist of the arguments I want to make before breathing through my mouth and the constant drool make me stop, take two night time Comtrex and pass out on the couch listening to the Direct TV's jazz channel labeled Watercolors, which is like jazz without the edge. Elevator music. Good elevator music. I have to apologize to Schmoopy's whose birthday party I missed on Friday.
I wake up Saturday and get at it. I don't go to the FAMU-TSU game.
I wake up Sunday and get at it. I dont' watch the Cowboys-Redskins game.
My outings when they come are brief. I see Spanky for the first time since she's been in town for all of thirty minutes over a late breakfast at the Waffle House, which by the way I think I'm about over the whole WH experience. Then I'm back at it. I see Shade briefly and find out she's joined the Army Reserves, so suddenly I'm in bizzaro world as earlier this week in one of many phone conversations I find out her little girly ass played Rugby in college and now this. And then...I'm back at it.
My memo, in my humble opinion is brilliant. And by that I mean I copied as much as I could from the good memo the prof gave as an example. A momentary scare when I printed it out as the spacing was wrong I was about to browbeat a computer into submission, but I fixed it.
I'm down to writing these blog posts at the office when I get some spare time, because when I'm home it's all about the books. I don't think I studied as much in a year of undergrad as I have in the short time I've been in law school. And that's scary.
Barkeep...three black coffees and a shot of Wild Turkey. What? It's what Einstein would drink!
Sometimes there are no excuses. You have to stand up and do those things that have to be done, make those moves that have to be made, damn the personal cost. And so this weekend when the nightlife was running hot and my alter ego was rolling his cage back and forth I did what had to be done. I studied.
And it's come to this?
These weekend updates have gotten way easy since I stopped doing anything.
My sole weekend adventure was in the form of joining the hunt for fuel on Friday night, as in Atlanta we have the weirdest little gas shortage going on. Due to an EPA restrictions, the city of only gets an ultra clean low sulfur summer gas (with gasititve additives and a twist of lime) but due to the Hurricanes in the Gulf earlier this year that special blend is in short supply. So everyday in Atlanta the good folks get together and re-enact the the scenes of cars waiting for gas you see in those pictures from the 70s.
I had tweaked it down to the fumes even with limiting my trips all week, but live on the Westside, work on the northwest side and go to school downtown, so I can only do so much.
Friday night, with the hand three microns above empty I set out. All total by my count I passed about thirteen gas stations, only one of which had gas where I actually waited in line for 15 minutes before giving up (the line hadn't moved) before I found a gas hideout. Or a fuel oasis, if you will. Oh there was line, but it was maybe a five minute wait. Five minutes. And no limit. Yes, in parts of the city they limit you, which is kinda screwed up since it means you'll just be back in line sooner.
So with a full tank of gas and memo to write, the only thing that could happen did.
Of course, my sinuses closed up. I mean like completely. No air. So I eke out the outline and general gist of the arguments I want to make before breathing through my mouth and the constant drool make me stop, take two night time Comtrex and pass out on the couch listening to the Direct TV's jazz channel labeled Watercolors, which is like jazz without the edge. Elevator music. Good elevator music. I have to apologize to Schmoopy's whose birthday party I missed on Friday.
I wake up Saturday and get at it. I don't go to the FAMU-TSU game.
I wake up Sunday and get at it. I dont' watch the Cowboys-Redskins game.
My outings when they come are brief. I see Spanky for the first time since she's been in town for all of thirty minutes over a late breakfast at the Waffle House, which by the way I think I'm about over the whole WH experience. Then I'm back at it. I see Shade briefly and find out she's joined the Army Reserves, so suddenly I'm in bizzaro world as earlier this week in one of many phone conversations I find out her little girly ass played Rugby in college and now this. And then...I'm back at it.
My memo, in my humble opinion is brilliant. And by that I mean I copied as much as I could from the good memo the prof gave as an example. A momentary scare when I printed it out as the spacing was wrong I was about to browbeat a computer into submission, but I fixed it.
I'm down to writing these blog posts at the office when I get some spare time, because when I'm home it's all about the books. I don't think I studied as much in a year of undergrad as I have in the short time I've been in law school. And that's scary.
Barkeep...three black coffees and a shot of Wild Turkey. What? It's what Einstein would drink!
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