My brother, Quinn, will be graduating from law school in January 2006. I'm very proud of him. I always have been, even when the green-eyed monster surfaced and sibling rivalry, self-induced or otherwise, engulfed us countless times in the past. He is my brother, after all, and I love him. And as we've grown older and somewhat wiser, we've come to respect eachother and see one another as worthy persons and, most importantly, as worthy siblings, not only because of our accomplishments and success, but simply because we're blood. After all that's said and done, blood definitely runs thicker than water. At least between us, that is.
Anyway, I'm about to begin reading The Dante Club by Matthew Pearl. Any idea if it's worth the read? I picked it up because it appears to have an aura about it similar to The Da Vinci Code and because it revolves around Dante's visions in The Divine Comedy, which I never got around to finishing. Horrible of me, I know. I think I made it as far as Circle VI. Ah, bloody hell!
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Desperate Situation
What makes someone so desperate enough to let go of their beliefs? A childhood friend, Autumn, surprised me this weekend by shooting down her long-held beliefs about relationships and the boundaries that should not be crossed unless the signs point that way. What happened to the vow she made time and again and the undefeated attitude she protrayed to everyone when things didn't turn out as she had expected? Of course, we all knew that somewhere underneath all her layers of protection lay a fragile heart capable of hurting. Yet, through it all, she took control of each situation and twisted it until its demise empowered her. But now it seems the tables have turned, and Autumn is losing control. Her actions are a desperate cry for help. A cry that results from years of being let down. A cry that continues as the years pass without hope. I don't know how to help her. I guess we all have to make our own mistakes, but how can I tell her that she's making the biggest mistake by letting herself go? By letting herself lose control of a situation that's leading her down the path of destruction? I've tried to be a good friend, giving her the kind of advice that I hope she'll give me someday when I'm in a dire state as she's in now. But my advice falls by the wayside as she desperately seeks inner peace in all the wrong places. All I can do is pray that she'll get through this without losing all hope. For without hope, there's nothing left but a desperate situation.
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Thirty Minutes
You would be proud of me if you knew me. I've been productive for thirty minutes a day at least three times a week. Breathing in life, breathing out bad habits. Well, at least trying to anyway. Thirty minutes of vigorous movement, drenched in sweat. Determined to make something out of this. Hoping to figure things out before my time's up. Wanting to be better, to feel better, to look better. Needing to find some release. Release from all things wrong in my life, and holding steadfast to the only thing that's right. Thirty minutes of freedom and bliss. Thirty minutes of pain and suffering. All this in just thirty minutes.
Time's up.
Time's up.
Sunday, September 18, 2005
Fair Tax and Other Thoughts
Have you heard of the Fair Tax proposal? If so, what do you think about it? For those of you who haven't heard about it, the Fair Tax proposes to "abolish the Internal Revenue Service and replace all federal payroll taxes- from income tax to social security and Medicare tax- with a consumption tax on only retail goods and services." Isom, Kevin. "Fair Tax? Gaily Forward!." OUT Las Vegas Sept. 2005: 8. Hmm...sounds pretty good, huh? My only concern is how much the consumption tax would be. Otherwise, abolishing the IRS and federal tax return filings would benefit everyone, including gay and lesbian families, on an equal level as opposed to the way things are right now. Currently, legally married gay and lesbian couples in Massachusetts and domestic partners everywhere else do not enjoy the federal tax benefits that married heterosexuals do. Thus, the Fair Tax proposal would rectify this inequality by abolishing the IRS and replacing federal payroll taxes with a consumption tax that would afford the same benefits at the same cost to everyone.
Listen up! We're here, we're not going anywhere, and we're demanding equality now! And while I'm expressing my opinion, screw the Defense of Marriage Act and its supporters! And that includes the ever incompetent Bush!
Now I'm hungry. Time to eat leftovers as I mull over what to write about next. These after-midnight feedings aren't good for me and my diet. But what the hell, right?! You only live once! Right! Right?! Right?
The weekend came and went without any highlights, unless you consider shopping at the 99cents store a highlight. In some way, it is. You can purchase a lot for your money. Just make sure the item you're purchasing hasn't expired. That would definitely dampen your highlighted spirits.
I started a new book entitled Snow Flower and the Secret Fan by Lisa See. I'm hoping it will be a worthwhile read and a good find. The first few pages have kept me interested thus far, but it takes a great book to keep me reading until the very last page and wanting more even after it's over. The last book I read which kept me absolutely enthralled was Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. I can't hardly wait for book seven, the last and final book in the Harry Potter series. I think I'm going to cry. By the way, for those of you in dire need of a Harry Potter fix after reading HBP, check this out. It'll give you hope.
Memoirs of a Geisha will soon be in theaters. I loved the book. Hopefully, the movie does the book justice, but movies never do books justice.
Maybe the Fair Tax proposal will bring us all justice for a change.
Listen up! We're here, we're not going anywhere, and we're demanding equality now! And while I'm expressing my opinion, screw the Defense of Marriage Act and its supporters! And that includes the ever incompetent Bush!
Now I'm hungry. Time to eat leftovers as I mull over what to write about next. These after-midnight feedings aren't good for me and my diet. But what the hell, right?! You only live once! Right! Right?! Right?
The weekend came and went without any highlights, unless you consider shopping at the 99cents store a highlight. In some way, it is. You can purchase a lot for your money. Just make sure the item you're purchasing hasn't expired. That would definitely dampen your highlighted spirits.
I started a new book entitled Snow Flower and the Secret Fan by Lisa See. I'm hoping it will be a worthwhile read and a good find. The first few pages have kept me interested thus far, but it takes a great book to keep me reading until the very last page and wanting more even after it's over. The last book I read which kept me absolutely enthralled was Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. I can't hardly wait for book seven, the last and final book in the Harry Potter series. I think I'm going to cry. By the way, for those of you in dire need of a Harry Potter fix after reading HBP, check this out. It'll give you hope.
Memoirs of a Geisha will soon be in theaters. I loved the book. Hopefully, the movie does the book justice, but movies never do books justice.
Maybe the Fair Tax proposal will bring us all justice for a change.
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
LSD II
So where did I leave off? I discussed the terror I felt as a 1L. But my first year wasn't as terrifying as I perceived it to be going in. My own insecurities and fears raised the terror level to orange, but eventually the terror subsided as I broke out of my shell and adapted to the law school environment.
And it is true what they say about law school: The first year they scare you to death. The second year they work you to death. And the third year they bore you to death. I was terrified my first year as I explained in my previous post. And I don't think I ever worked as hard and studied as much my whole life (except during the bar exam) as I did my second year. By the time my third year rolled by, I grew brave and became comfortable enough to skip several classes that bored me and even managed to pass Wills, Trusts, and Estates with the worst grade I ever got in law school and without breaking a sweat. That was the sweetest part. Knowing that I beat the system and came out triumphant on my own terms and without fear.
However, the best part about my law school experience was living in the Big Apple. New York City. The mecca of all meccas. My mecca. My dream came true when I set foot in NYC and made it my home away from home for three years. I loved every single bit of it, from the towering buildings to the putrid smell emanating from somewhere in Chinatown/Canal Street. The rush I felt from living in the big city overwhelmed me at times to the point of tears. But its energy jolted me into existence. 'I am alive,' I thought to myself countless times as I breathed in the big city air. My ambrosia. My freedom. My awakening.
And it is true what they say about law school: The first year they scare you to death. The second year they work you to death. And the third year they bore you to death. I was terrified my first year as I explained in my previous post. And I don't think I ever worked as hard and studied as much my whole life (except during the bar exam) as I did my second year. By the time my third year rolled by, I grew brave and became comfortable enough to skip several classes that bored me and even managed to pass Wills, Trusts, and Estates with the worst grade I ever got in law school and without breaking a sweat. That was the sweetest part. Knowing that I beat the system and came out triumphant on my own terms and without fear.
However, the best part about my law school experience was living in the Big Apple. New York City. The mecca of all meccas. My mecca. My dream came true when I set foot in NYC and made it my home away from home for three years. I loved every single bit of it, from the towering buildings to the putrid smell emanating from somewhere in Chinatown/Canal Street. The rush I felt from living in the big city overwhelmed me at times to the point of tears. But its energy jolted me into existence. 'I am alive,' I thought to myself countless times as I breathed in the big city air. My ambrosia. My freedom. My awakening.
Law School Daze
West, a friend from law school, contacted me today. Hearing from him again brought back memories of that period in my life when everything seemed to be right on track, even though it seemed I lived through it in a daze. A happy kind of daze...at times. The type of daze in which you have to pinch yourself every now and then to believe what's happening to you, even during the sometimes awful situations you're thrust into. Law school daze.
Law school. When I think about it, sometimes I look back fondly. And other times, I cringe. A whole lot of shit happened then. So much that I'm a new person because of it. Of course, NYC helped just as much to bring me out of my shell. It was a time and place that needed to happen in order for me to find myself. I wouldn't have it any other way.
Where do I begin? It's been a little over four years since I graduated from law school in the Big Apple. I was so happy and full of pride when I accepted my diploma. I made it. Finally. To think that three years earlier, I was a small town plantation girl with big dreams, hoping to pursue those dreams in the bright lights of the biggest city. It happened. I'm sure it did. I have the scars to prove it. Sometimes, I still have to pinch myself.
Law school is every bit as difficult as everyone perceives it to be. Difficult and then some. I got through my first year with flying colors. I passed. Simply passing and ensuring your seat for the following academic year is the best thing that could ever happen to a 1L. There's nothing more or less to expect than simply passing. You see, I dreaded each class during my first year, worried that I didn't study hard enough and frightened that the professor would choose to blind me with the spotlight this time around. When you're under the spotlight, you're dead. It doesn't matter if you're on the right track. Somehow, the professor's sting will derail you. It all depends on the professor, of course. I believe that the ones who have actually practiced law are less likely to have a gavel stuck up their ass. It's the real professors (i.e., the ones who never actually practiced law, but wished they had) that you have to worry about. They're the ones you have to walk around on eggshells for. They take their rage out on law students to make up for their own incompetence. But don't get me wrong. Every legal professor should be feared. They have the power to wield the Socratic method over your head and cut you down whenever they want to for whatever reason. I remember the time my secured transactions professor screamed at the top of his lungs at a fellow student, inquiring menacingly "Are you stupid?!" And it's not only the professor's wrath you have to worry about. You also have to worry about the hyenas (i.e., arrogant law students) that are waiting to eat you alive as they snicker over your downfall. Your falling is the perfect excuse for them to step on you as they climb the ladder to success. Anyway, I hated the Socratic method. Sometimes, I still cringe when asked a question. And I hated those hyenas, who have now infiltrated the workplace. But I'm sure they're unhappy and paying for their sins. No doubt.
Law school. When I think about it, sometimes I look back fondly. And other times, I cringe. A whole lot of shit happened then. So much that I'm a new person because of it. Of course, NYC helped just as much to bring me out of my shell. It was a time and place that needed to happen in order for me to find myself. I wouldn't have it any other way.
Where do I begin? It's been a little over four years since I graduated from law school in the Big Apple. I was so happy and full of pride when I accepted my diploma. I made it. Finally. To think that three years earlier, I was a small town plantation girl with big dreams, hoping to pursue those dreams in the bright lights of the biggest city. It happened. I'm sure it did. I have the scars to prove it. Sometimes, I still have to pinch myself.
Law school is every bit as difficult as everyone perceives it to be. Difficult and then some. I got through my first year with flying colors. I passed. Simply passing and ensuring your seat for the following academic year is the best thing that could ever happen to a 1L. There's nothing more or less to expect than simply passing. You see, I dreaded each class during my first year, worried that I didn't study hard enough and frightened that the professor would choose to blind me with the spotlight this time around. When you're under the spotlight, you're dead. It doesn't matter if you're on the right track. Somehow, the professor's sting will derail you. It all depends on the professor, of course. I believe that the ones who have actually practiced law are less likely to have a gavel stuck up their ass. It's the real professors (i.e., the ones who never actually practiced law, but wished they had) that you have to worry about. They're the ones you have to walk around on eggshells for. They take their rage out on law students to make up for their own incompetence. But don't get me wrong. Every legal professor should be feared. They have the power to wield the Socratic method over your head and cut you down whenever they want to for whatever reason. I remember the time my secured transactions professor screamed at the top of his lungs at a fellow student, inquiring menacingly "Are you stupid?!" And it's not only the professor's wrath you have to worry about. You also have to worry about the hyenas (i.e., arrogant law students) that are waiting to eat you alive as they snicker over your downfall. Your falling is the perfect excuse for them to step on you as they climb the ladder to success. Anyway, I hated the Socratic method. Sometimes, I still cringe when asked a question. And I hated those hyenas, who have now infiltrated the workplace. But I'm sure they're unhappy and paying for their sins. No doubt.
Monday, September 12, 2005
Sleep Cut Short
BB's left for work, and I'm left alone with my thoughts yet again. I don't know how BB does it, willing herself out of bed at such an awful hour (12 a.m.) to get to work at 1 a.m. Just awful. But, she's a trooper, and I love her even more for that.
I've been having a difficult time sleeping after BB leaves. I don't know why, but it has something to do with fear. Fear of the unknown, mostly. It's only gotten worse after watching The Exorcism of Emily Rose. What's funny is I love horror movies and had no problem watching that genre of films alone in a dark room not so long ago. But, for some odd reason or another, I can't even look at my DVD collection without skipping over the horror titles. I blame my dilemma on getting older and wiser. There are things in this world that exist and can't be explained (without coming off as being insane), and no longer can I will myself to turn a blind eye. Especially not after hearing BB's personal experiences on the supernatural, which are embedded in my head, churning my stomach. To be honest, I believe that BB's the reason why I'm so afraid. Strange things have happened to her in the past, and I believe that she's a magnet for such things. Being so close with her inevitably opens me up to such things too, right? I shudder to think so, and I pray it's not true. O.K. I'm changing the subject now.
I wonder if anyone's going to read my blog? I don't care one way or the other, just as long as no one recognizes it's me. I don't plan on telling my family, friends, or colleagues about this blog. Wouldn't want to give them another reason to pass judgment on me. However, I have disclosed the existence of this blog with BB, whom I choose to share everything with. Even if I didn't, I'd somehow manage to blurt it out, especially if I'm feeling a bit guilty about what I've done or how I feel. Anyway, I haven't given BB my blog address, and it's because I really want to keep this blog all to myself. Doing so will make my entries all the more authentic. I'll get to bounce off the walls while recording my deepest, darkest secrets and innermost fears about everything, including my relationship with BB. I'll probably let BB in on my blog entries eventually, but hopefully that won't change my mission.
It's 1:32 a.m. The telly's on. I'm hungry. Just awful. I wish BB were here so I can shut off my brain and fall asleep next to her. Sigh.
I see that my friend is online. I'm tempted to IM her, but I dread hearing what she'll bitch about this time. Hey, I bitch as much as the next person, but I don't let it drag on and on and on and on...At least I hope not! I've been avoiding my friends lately because they've been depressed about their situations (i.e., love life), and their depression gets me depressed about my situation (i.e., unemployment). It's a harsh cycle, and I want to break away from it for a while.
Suze Orman is on the telly. Ugh. Don't lecture me. I hate lectures. If only her solutions to my problems were as easy as she claims they are. It's not. Easy, that is. Maybe if she throws me a huge lifesaver filled with thousands of shiny, new greenbacks, then I'd listen to her irritating lecture on my financial situation and believe there's hope for me still. Until then, shut the f*ck up! Time to change the channel. Hmm...hold on. Maybe I should listen to her just a bit more. Ahhh, hell. My credit's screwed anyhow.
I've rambled on for sometime now. I'm sleepy. I should get to bed. Maybe I'll watch a DVD. Something positive for a change. I guess I'll end it here and peruse my DVD collection, skipping over the horror titles of course.
I've been having a difficult time sleeping after BB leaves. I don't know why, but it has something to do with fear. Fear of the unknown, mostly. It's only gotten worse after watching The Exorcism of Emily Rose. What's funny is I love horror movies and had no problem watching that genre of films alone in a dark room not so long ago. But, for some odd reason or another, I can't even look at my DVD collection without skipping over the horror titles. I blame my dilemma on getting older and wiser. There are things in this world that exist and can't be explained (without coming off as being insane), and no longer can I will myself to turn a blind eye. Especially not after hearing BB's personal experiences on the supernatural, which are embedded in my head, churning my stomach. To be honest, I believe that BB's the reason why I'm so afraid. Strange things have happened to her in the past, and I believe that she's a magnet for such things. Being so close with her inevitably opens me up to such things too, right? I shudder to think so, and I pray it's not true. O.K. I'm changing the subject now.
I wonder if anyone's going to read my blog? I don't care one way or the other, just as long as no one recognizes it's me. I don't plan on telling my family, friends, or colleagues about this blog. Wouldn't want to give them another reason to pass judgment on me. However, I have disclosed the existence of this blog with BB, whom I choose to share everything with. Even if I didn't, I'd somehow manage to blurt it out, especially if I'm feeling a bit guilty about what I've done or how I feel. Anyway, I haven't given BB my blog address, and it's because I really want to keep this blog all to myself. Doing so will make my entries all the more authentic. I'll get to bounce off the walls while recording my deepest, darkest secrets and innermost fears about everything, including my relationship with BB. I'll probably let BB in on my blog entries eventually, but hopefully that won't change my mission.
It's 1:32 a.m. The telly's on. I'm hungry. Just awful. I wish BB were here so I can shut off my brain and fall asleep next to her. Sigh.
I see that my friend is online. I'm tempted to IM her, but I dread hearing what she'll bitch about this time. Hey, I bitch as much as the next person, but I don't let it drag on and on and on and on...At least I hope not! I've been avoiding my friends lately because they've been depressed about their situations (i.e., love life), and their depression gets me depressed about my situation (i.e., unemployment). It's a harsh cycle, and I want to break away from it for a while.
Suze Orman is on the telly. Ugh. Don't lecture me. I hate lectures. If only her solutions to my problems were as easy as she claims they are. It's not. Easy, that is. Maybe if she throws me a huge lifesaver filled with thousands of shiny, new greenbacks, then I'd listen to her irritating lecture on my financial situation and believe there's hope for me still. Until then, shut the f*ck up! Time to change the channel. Hmm...hold on. Maybe I should listen to her just a bit more. Ahhh, hell. My credit's screwed anyhow.
I've rambled on for sometime now. I'm sleepy. I should get to bed. Maybe I'll watch a DVD. Something positive for a change. I guess I'll end it here and peruse my DVD collection, skipping over the horror titles of course.
Sunday, September 11, 2005
Effrenus
Effrenus: wild, unrestrained, unchecked, unbridled.
I created this blog to serve as an escape from reality. A blog in which I can speak my mind freely and without inhibitions. Free from restraints, my mind clears and the truth is illuminated. Truth about my existence and the world's. Thus, it begins here...Illustro!
I created this blog to serve as an escape from reality. A blog in which I can speak my mind freely and without inhibitions. Free from restraints, my mind clears and the truth is illuminated. Truth about my existence and the world's. Thus, it begins here...Illustro!
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