With Regards to Mr. Vonnegut

November 7, 2010 at 12:46 am (Uncategorized) (, , , , , )

“I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, ‘If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.'” — Kurt Vonnegut

I know this post is coming at 1:30 in the morning, and that nothing good ever happens at 1:30 in the morning. But I feel like I should say this, because my iPod pulled a Jesus and resurrected itself three days after apparently dying in the laundry machine, and because I’ve realized that in spite of buckling under a massive workload and occasionally feeling isolated, I am, in fact, blessed to have some of the best friends in the world to help me get through this.

This feeling will likely fade later on in the week, and it might even be totally crushed when I recieve my midterm grade back if I do exceptionally poorly.

But at this point, that doesn’t matter. Nothing about the “legal” identity matters to me. This feeling exists, and it should not only be acknowledged, but embraced.

I am honest to God happy. I’m happy right at this point, I’m happy existentially with where I’ve ended up in life. I’m happy knowing that, regardless of what happens, who enters my life, or whatever trials and tribulations the future may hold for me, I am ready to meet them. And I’m happy knowing that even if these challenges defeat me, I’ll have experienced what I experienced and be a better person for it. At this moment, I am really, truly content with everything in the universe. Happy to be a human being. Even just happy to be alive.

And if this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.

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Time Management

September 19, 2010 at 12:12 pm (Uncategorized) (, , , , , , , )

So I think this was literally the craziest, most schizophrenic week ever. It was stressful as all hell, and it involved me 1) scaring my section mates while walking the halls of my law school having harried phone conversations in broken Arabic, 2) going into a monastic, two-day, Amp-fueled writing frenzy at the library, and 3) ultimately hitting two nightclubs guilt-free with a Middle Eastern guy the weekend that memos were due.

Long story short, after almost giving myself an ulcer when he came in a day late, my friend H flew into DC from North Africa on Thursday safe and sound. To use law school language, he had “manifested” an “intent” to “party,” so in preparation, I completely cut myself off from the world for about two days in order to finish my work ahead of time. I did so, and I did a great job on it.

And we went out this weekend.

Yes. People hated on me. People called me irresponsible for going out this weekend because it’s “memo weekend.” No. I did not care. Because every single person who criticized me hadn’t even touched the assignment yet on Friday. Save for some minor edits, I finished that thing on Wednesday. At the risk of sounding crass, they be hatin’ cuz they be PROCRASTINATIN’! Which is fine. Some people like to spend their free time avoiding work.

I prefer to try and use my free time doing something that doesn’t suck. Different strokes for different folks.

Anyways — the partying. H is under 21, so we were somewhat limited in our venues. First night we decided to go to Ultrabar, which the illuminati at Yelp panned (because everyone in DC who uses Yelp hates everything). And although it was “trashy” and way too expensive, I gotta admit — I had fun. There’s nothing like chasing down a week of overly philosophical discussions on what constitutes “mutual assent” with 20 minutes of the same bass line playing so loud you can feel your sinuses vibrating.

Last night we went to Pasha Lounge on F Street because it was free. The walk there was fun, as H, a Muslim foreigner, was very freaked out by the large number of gay guys meandering around Dupont Circle at night, and the bouncer at Pasha had to reassure him that a) this wasn’t a gay nightclub and b) that if there were gay guys in the club, they wouldn’t bother him.  Ahh cultural sensitivity. Anyway, the place was really cool, Latin music playing, but it was a ghost town. We were one of nine people there the whole night. Got shot down by an MBA student from Georgetown, but the owner gave me free shots on the house. That helped.

Rounded out a weekend of quasi-questionable decision-making with a street festival and taking H to see the White House. And while H slept until 2 pm everyday, I got up at 10 am and got my reading for next week out of the way. I’m a closet gunner I guess.

In the end, DC’s a pretty cool place to live — if you manage your time right.

P.S. For those of you who think I’m too cavalier about my approach to law school, I assure you, I am far enough into the fray that it has already warped my way of thinking. H asked me if he had to be an American citizen to win the lottery. So I started thinking to myself, “hmm. Could the lotto commission just revoke the prize like that? Well, it seems gratuitous, but assuming the dollar he spent for a one in a million shot of winning was adequate consideration…”

And at that moment I stopped myself, horrified. Mentally, it was like that point in the movies where the person looks calmly at themselves in the mirror — and then punches the mirror and yells out “WHAT HAVE I BECOME?!?!”

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The Week from Hell

September 14, 2010 at 1:49 pm (Uncategorized) (, , )

We have a major memo due on Sunday. We also have another writing assignment due on Sunday. We also have an ass-ton of reading to do.

These things normally do not bother me. When faced with work, I can usually just retreat into my filthy midden of darkness workspace, isolate myself from the rest of humanity, and get it all done with no problem.

Except that was the tactic I used when I was an anti-social poindexter. I had nothing in the world around me except for my work, and that made me profoundly miserable. So I stopped doing that and reached out to people around me in hopes of improving my quality of life. I was told this would make me happier (allegedly).

But now, it seems that obligations to people I care about in my personal life keep complicating things. For one, my very codependent substance-abusing sexually promiscuous drama-magnet supportive friends from back home keep calling or texting me, and then they get incredibly upset when I don’t text them back immediately. “Ugh i have SOOOmuch homewrk!!!” “Lol” “Hey where r u?” “Helllo?” “WHY DONT U ANSWER ANYMORE!!! u think ur 2 good b cuz ur in LAW SCHOOL!?!”

Also, communicating with family has shown itself to be an issue. My dad, a coach, called me out of nowhere this morning on my way to class to tell me some kid came in crying to him the other day about having diabetes, and that “reminded him of me.” When I told him that I didn’t have diabetes, he said, “no, but you need to lose a lot of weight.”

Calling first thing in the morning to tell me I’m fat. Thank you. This is critical information that I would have never known…EXCEPT YOU SAY THIS EVERY TIME I TALK TO YOU!!!

AND ALSO people keep visiting me. Which I like, don’t get me wrong. But it’s also proving to be very stressful. My sister visited two weeks ago. My good friend “H” from North Africa is staying with me for five days, I’m picking him up at Dulles without a car, and I’m really happy to see him.

But I’m also really stressed because I don’t seem to be understanding civil procedure. Or contracts. And my mentor wants to meet up. And I have to go to court at some point. And all I’ve consumed today has been a granola bar and Red Bull. And I’VE GOT A MEMO DUE ON SUNDAY AND EVEN THOUGH I’VE ALREADY FINISHED IT, IT WILL BE HORRIBLE BECAUSE I’M A HORRIBLE INCOMPETENT PERSON WHO WILL FAIL OUT OF LAW SCHOOL AND END UP SELLING MY BODY IN A DITCH!!! And no one will buy it because I’M FAT!!! AAARGH!!!

…hah just kidding. I’m not that stressed yet. People who stress out that much are dumb, and I take every chance I can to mock them. And as far as I’m concerned, if people with kids can do law school, so I can. I’ll find a balance. Hopefully….

…but seriously though, my cuticles might be bloody by the end of the week.

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