Not even the pleasure of hell

I don't recognize the law school Christy.

When I'm at school, all I can think about is how much I need sleep. When I'm at home all I can think about it how much I need to study. I am a slacker living in limbo hell. I have so much hanging over my head that I can't ever relax, but I'm in such need of a break that I can't ever get anything accomplished.

I expunge all my energy on commuting and worrying. At times I don't care about my performance. At other times, I'm so upset about how little I am able to control my performance that I break down. The obstacle in front of me is so high that I don't even know where to start- like those overweight people on Biggest Loser trying to get back in shape-- you look down at the scale and its so discouraging-- impossible even.

I must be a terror to be around. I don't know why I'm even at school again. I am a horrible worker, I will never be able to keep a competative job, much less land one.

I guess I'm experiencing what all over-achievers feel when they have finally met their match and realize they can't keep up. I'm not perfect. I'm not even that great. It's a hard lesson to learn. Dissapointment is the worst internal plague.

All sorts of trouble

The wonders of modern day technology have cured the common babysitter's longest held gripe-- late nights in a house full of sleeping children while the rest of the social world is living up an otherwise terrific saturday night.

I may be babysitting, but thanks to my laptop and wireless internet, I am also tele-socializing.

I spent my afternoon and evening partaking in a completely new activity: dressing up and posing stuffed monkeys. Ok, I have to admit, the first "dress-up" event was entirely my idea and thus, the sequence of today's events can be blamed on me. But unlike an eager 11 year old and overly-excited 8 year old, I can tell when stuffed monkeys have had too much....

Maybe you can also tell:

This is Pirate Monkey

and Captain Monkey

And Safe Robber Monkey

This is what happens to all monkeys who drop out of school- they get a job behind the counter of a McDonald's.

Don't look a gift elephant in the mouth

For the past eight years I have been playing the White Elephant Game with my beliefs. You know, that cheesy game that consistantly invites itself to every christmas party you ever go to.

The belief version of the White Elephant Game goes something like this.

I pick up a belief/idea from the center of the circle. I balances it in my hands while making a judgment on its weight, stability, shape and wrap job. I even shakes it a little to see if it rattles. Sounds great, I clutch on to it for dear life.

Someone comes along and rudely snatches that belief away by helping me see the belief in a new light. Eh, suddenly it doesn't look so good anymore.

Then I carefully select another from the center. This time I, slightly skeptical, unwrap the belief myself. Once again, the belief that I clutched onto did not live up to expectation.

There are some beliefs that I keep picking up, finding it hard to discard forever. Sometimes the most promising are the ones that get overlooked by others and do not look so tempting on the outside. Its hard to find a belief that holds weight from all sides.

Maybe I should stop playing this game. Mabe I should take up musical chairs...

A Day With the Stars

In The Beginning:

A couple concert-starved, crazy employees began to throw around an equally crazy plan.
The result = The Really Bright Idea of 2006.

The Plan:

Promote a city that is just recovering from the infectuous disease of economic decline by convincing a punk band of hometown boys --in the middle of an international tour-- to throw us a concert, for free. Oh yes, and convince them to perform their 10+ year old hit song "Move to Bremerton" for the media as a promotional/marketing gimic for the city.


(Above: Yuri, Tom, Mayor Bozeman and Mike- the band is receiving keys to Bremerton)

The Panic:

After months of correspondance with the band, worried panic huddles at work, and 500 promotional concert fliers pasted all over the region, everything was in place an ready to go!

Yesterday we met MxPx in downtown Bremerton and organized a whole afternoon with them-- which included the band receiving keys to the city from the Mayor, touring our condo site, sharing dinner with us at a great local place and performing LIVE at the Admiral Theatre. I even gave some them (or at least some of them) a ride in my '94 Aerostar Van (affectionately named the Jesus Mobile for all my mom's religious perephenalia).

(Tom is looking over downtown Bremerton from our condo site)

It was awesome. It went smoothly. I got a free T-shirt....


(Jessie and I are talking with the guys after the show with my boss)

Strangled in the social net

At the beginning of the school year, a classmate and I discussed how we should start a casual study group. We talked about the timing and game plan of a potential study group. Weeks go by and it finally seems like a good time to benefit from group study sessions. I run into my classmate during break and ask her about it.

She looks at me as if she is annoyed that I remembered. She leans over and say, "Yeah, we changed the date and time. Don't tell anyone about it, though. We dont want to add a bunch of people."

Wow, turns out she decided to get selective- so selective that I was cut out of the loop. This annoys me greatly and makes no sense. On many occassions, she's come up and chatted with me and invited me to do other things with her. It's like she's using different people to get different things from them. This is so not cool-- and so not what friendship is about.

During lunch, I find out that a couple of my friends are going to a cocktail-like party friday night at another classmate's house. For the last couple weeks, house parties have pretty much been announced to our entire section, so I was a little surprised I didn't know about it. My friend looks at me and says, "she's being very exclusive about who she's inviting-- but I'm sure you can come. I'll invite you."

Little groups of people are starting to branch off and form social cliques and study groups. I get the general feeling that the people who I at first thought were really friendly, are really just campaigning for an unannounced election-- they are building social coalitions and trying to generate as much social capital as possible. I feel slighlty used and excluded.

This is law school, I thought we would be beyond all this!

small things

Recently, there has been a random explosive increase in the number of public baby sightings. This spurred me to begin a vorcacious search for part time jobs that involve infant-holding. After the sad realization that I barely have time to sleep, I decided to drop this search and focus on more pressing things-- like law school (damn it!).

I love infants. I love the way they smell, the way their baby skin feels, I even love the way they cry. I have a talent for being able to guess a non visible baby's age by its cry. I can even predict the unsung notes of a baby in mid-cry. Yes, its an unusual talent. It must be from my 10+ years of caring for little creatures.

I know I'm only 22. I know I just began a three year full time commitment to undergo intensive learning. I know I still live at home. I know I am $18K in debt. But I can't wait for babies......

Elimi-roomate

Today I was in a situation which would have made for a great new reality Tv show. Acting upon a last minute decision to find an apartment in Seattle (I know, its rare for me to actually act on a decision!), I replied to a craigslist post about a room available in a four bedroom house near my campus.

One email reply and phone call later, I found myself crossing the street from campus to Starbucks- where all fine social transactions, such as the trading and selling of living spaces, take place.

This is where I was to meet Rachel and unknown possible future roomate #2. I walk to the only table with a girl in a yellow shirt, as per my over the phone instructions. There is already a group of girls at the table. It turns out that several people replied to Rachel's post for a room.

I sat down, introduced myself and we all began to talk. We talked about weather, school, boys in Spain, the cinema classic-- Snakes On A Plane, bat festivals in Texas, and the amazingly horrid available housing stock on Capitol Hill. There was one thing we did not talk about.... there were more future roomates than rooms.

I guess if it really was a Tv show (Elimi-date comes to mind), we would all have played stronger offense by showing more cleavage, hissing out one another's flaws, and bitch slapping each other. But not all who showed up seemed that interested. I'll find out tomorrow who ends up in the hottub with the stud for the end of the episode....

A test I can pass

Its true, I am quixotic, chaotic, and crazy.


My Personality

Neuroticism	58
Extraversion	83
Openness To Experience	98
Agreeableness	92
Conscientiousness	7

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