New Excuses

When I was in grade school, there was a set of typical excuses for not doing your homework, why a project was late, etc. Tonight, I spoke with my niece who said she couldn't do a piece of her homework because she couldn't get online. Well, my sister (her mother) is one of the last people on the planet who has dial-up. But that's not the problem. My niece says she tried to start the computer, but it froze, so she did a manual shut down. Try to restart? Nope. Can't just go old school and use books? Nope. The teacher requires web addresses. Keep in mind, her entire class was given laptops for each student to use (and take home). Can't connect using the laptop? Nope. It doesn't have a port for a phone line (which I find impossible to believe). What is more likely is that there is no internet connection on her laptop for her to access, as the school probably took it out. "Sorry teacher, the internet was down." Homework excuses have certainly changed since I was a kid. And my sister let her go to a dance competition today and some kind of expo yesterday without nearly a scrap of homework being done. Things are certainly different than when I was a kid.

Last Man Standing

Yesterday, one of my very best friends found out that she passed the AL bar exam. This time around, she put in a good deal of time and effort, and she really deserved to pass. I am over the moon happy for her.

But it got me thinking. I'm the only one in my group of friends who hasn't passed yet. Except, of course, my friend who spent a year abroad working with victims of human trafficking. But other than that, it's just me. No additional pressure now, right? Sure. It's painful and miserable and lonely-feeling. And you know, I really need to get over myself. I have a very well-paying job at which I'm gaining valuable practical experience. I'm able to pay down my debt, I have good friends, and my family loves me (although at times they are the reason I take anti-depressants...okay, the main reason). But I need to start putting things in perspective. I am damned lucky, very blessed. And since there is nothing more I can do about the bar exam now (and yes, results are 55 days from now), I need to just try to ignore the elephant in the room. I need to think about how other things in my life are going pretty well.

So today, I think I'll get a pedicure, maybe wax my eyebrows, and try to remember why it is that I am so lucky instead of always remembering what makes me so nervous about the future that I may have developed an ulcer.

So What?

Every headlining story of every remotely entertainment-based news show lead with Clay Aiken finally admitting he's gay. Um, who didn't know that already? Did he really have to technically "admit" it? And who would consider that news "unbelievably" or "shocking"? Seriously? I would have bet passing bar results that Clay Aiken was gay, and knowing how desperately I'd like to pass, that should tell you what a sure thing bet that would be.

So both of my bestest friends in the whole wide world are having test-related news this Friday. C is getting her Alabama bar results and N is taking her certified financial planner test (and simultaneously getting results). Needless to say, this is not resting well in my already nervous stomach. But I'm trying to take it all in stride. I mean, I'm excited for both of them and pray that both pass their respective life-changing tests. But it just reminds me that I have 59 more days to wait to see if I have life-changing results. Ick. Nausea. So what, right? I already know what it's like to not pass, so hopefully this will be a completely new experience. My goal is to not find out my score. (For those not in the know, when you pass they don't tell you your score. They only give you that gem if you don't pass.)

I wonder if Clay Aiken thought it was "shocking" news. Surely he already knew. It wasn't something that surprised him. And since we ALL already knew, how is this surprising news? Seriously? So what?

I guess I'm shocked that anyone would lead that story and call the news "shocking," but I doubt that was the point of the adjective.

Another Reason Law School Sucks

My stomach hurt so badly last night that I threw up, went into my mom's room, and asked her to take me to the hospital. I like to think I handle pain relatively well, which is why my mom was really freaked out when I asked to go. It felt like that scene from one of the Alien movies where the alien busted out of the person's stomach. And when I got there, the waiting room was filled with happy people, joking, watching tv, etc. I was doubled over and had the nurse give me a puke bucket (which I had to ask for TWICE...I should have just gone ahead and thrown up on the waiting room floor).

It turns out I probably have either a relatively mild ulcer or the stress of everything I have going on right now made my stomach start killing itself with acid. The good news is, after some internet research, I believe that it is a relatively new ulcer, if it is one at all, and sometimes relatively new ulcers can heal on their own.

I absolutely blame law school (which seems to be where most of my health issues began) for this and other things. I blame the board of bar examiners for screwing me in February. And how could the board of bar examiners have the chance to screw me in February? That's right! Law school.

Law school is the root of all evil, as evidenced by the fact that law school costs so damn much money. If you're thinking about law school, think again. It could possibly be one of the most regrettable decisions of your life. On the other hand, it could be an accomplishment of which you can be proud. I just guess I'm feeling as sour as the acid that I can taste in the back of my throat.

Working for a Living

Is there an inherent difference between those of us who work in "executive" or "white collar" positions and those who don't? How is it that people who are "blue collar" somehow feel that they're superior because they may work physically harder?

I work hard (for the most part) for a living. I went to school for what seems like an eternity, and have more educational debt than the average person by FAR. So do most of my friends, since most of my friends are law school buddies.

But when "my guy" told me just now that he gets up every day at 5:30 in the morning and I retorted that doing so was offensive to my non-morning personality, he said something to the effect that people who get up early and do more physical-type labor are somehow more...I don't know...honest? That the work is more honest?

Bite me. I work for my money, and I certainly won't feel badly because I work with my mind more than with the "sweat of my brow." I've gone through more over this education and this profession than most people could ever fathom. I've overcome more obstacles than most people realize. And I think it's unfair and judgmental to cast a shadow of slight on what I choose to do. And that's really all that education gives you: choices. I could choose to do almost anything because of my degree and my education. I find it offensive to me and my accomplishments to somehow judge my profession.

Whatever.

I still found some cute lingerie, finally, and if he doesn't talk smack about lawyers and/or my chosen profession again, maybe he'll get to see them. Maybe. No guarantees. Maybe I'll make him sign an arbitration agreement first, including a confidentiality clause. lol

Fat Girls Need Love, Too

So my mind was wandering and I was thinking about sex. (Yes, I think I was a man in a former life...or I have a very male essence...or maybe it's just been too long.) And my mind got to the scary part of sex, at least for women, which is being seen naked. It's compromising. And any women at one point or another has looked at her naked body and scrutinized every inch, or at least the ones she can see without a three-way mirror. And I've never been naked in front of a man when I'm this weight. And it doesn't help that C has been losing weight like it's butter melting off of her. I hate her just a little bit right now, but then again, she will likely be in the same boat relatively soon.

So I was looking at lingerie online. It's either super skanky, white-trash, bleach blond with black roots models showing disgusting lacy rags, or it's 400 pound girls and you can't get past the buckets and buckets of boobs. I'm fat, but I ain't THAT fat, not even close. Even Frederick's of Hollywood has cut way back on their plus-sized line. What's the deal? Did all the fat girls just stop having sex in lingerie? Stop having sex at all? What the hell happened? Or did the fat girls just stop trying to dress up what they have in exchange for self-consciousness? Not likely.

I don't know what the deal is, but I'm getting more and more nervous about "him" seeing me in a state of undress.

Sorry to those of you (especially CP) who surely did not want to read this entry. But it's a diary, it's online, and it's what is slithering out of my head right now. Give the fat girl a break, alright?!?!

Sweet Dreams

It's after midnight and I'm still awake. This is a rarity. I am generally an early to bed, early to stay in bed half-awake while watching daytime tv. Well, not when I have work. But I don't usually stay up this late unless there's a reason.

Maybe I'm excited about my trip up north. Maybe I'm terrified of it. I just wanted to go to see if there was something worth fighting for rather than just a good friend. When I got the same advice from three women in less than 8 hours, I figured I should think about it and have the conversation I dreaded (which really wasn't that bad).

Note to self: Exhausted, over-stressed, hormonal, overworked, and stressing about bar results AND medical stuff is worse than drunk dialing. At least drunk dialing usually just means overly-forward and flirty. All of the aforementioned elements equals bad judgment and accusations.

And at this point in the night, I'm not sleepy. My body KNOWS it is secretly tired, but I feel like the kid at [insert favorite childhood amusement park here] when it's past bedtime, but you REFUSE to show any signs of tiredness (which, of course, just underscores how tired you really are). Well, I for one am going to give this sleep thing a shot just after "By Your Side" by Sade finishes. I really think this would be the perfect song for some guy to steal my heart with. It even includes the line "I'll tell you you're right when you want...hahahaha." But it's still sweet, and if some guy would tell me I'm right when I need to hear it (need to hear it, not just want to), he would absolutely be the right guy for me.

Anyone know anyone who's looking for a romantic, sweetly-sarcastic, law clerk (hope-to-be soon-to-be-attorney), is financially independent, and who is really a good catch? Yeah, me neither.