Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Is Everything Okay At Home?

So there I was...
Out to lunch the other day at the Del Taco eating with a few law school buddies, one of which was the infamous Super. We were eating outside, enjoying the sunny CA weather (yes, the floods have finally subsided and I am once again reminded of why I live here) when one of the classmates, with worried expression, lifted the sleeve of my teefury shirt and asked me if everything was alright at home. Let me back up the story a bit at this point.
The one called Super is probably one of the coolest people I have ever met and has been a life savior in school as well as in the social life. Since my next closest friend and confidant is up in the Canyon Country, Super and I are pretty much inseparable and have been for a few months now. I realized a few days in to the relationship that Super, not being a very violent person by nature, has a habit of beating the people he loves most. Weird, I know. Do not worry, no women or animals are ever harmed...actually, come to think of it, he really only beats me. It's okay though, I have two arms and it is really only the right one that gets punched, and punched, and punched again. Did I mention he wears this really huge, plastic green ring on that hand? No, I don't think I did mention that. Well, he does and never bothers to take it off.
Now I realize it might sound like I hate this ritual and yes at times the moments of punishment are inopportune, if you will, but it sometimes is fun. Not in a masochistic sort of way, but in the I always get to hit back sort of way. This strange man-ritual has become a bonding event, I assume, much in the same way that boxers and UFC fighters can go out for drinks after a fight. Sometimes i feel bad though. There was a purple bruise on his arm all last month that he showed to everyone. Lost a few friends over that I assure you. When I complain about my arm hurting and try to show them my bruises they all just laugh at me. Sure they are hard to see, but they are there. Just because my bruises don't end up a strange neon purple color does not mean mine hurt any less! My prayers have at last been answered, however, and this week the bruises have decided to manifest. Only, where Super's bruises were cute and sympathetic, mine are horrendous and make my arm look like an old banana. Which brings me full circle.
Back to fellow classmate lifting the sleeve of my shirt. Finally someone acknowledges my suffering. At last, someone will realize that I am the victim in this violent bonding game and for once see that I am hit a million times more often than Super. I had thoughts of him finally getting what he deserved: a shame on you from one of the classmates. That's all I wanted. Someone to see past his bruises and sympathize with mine.

"Is everything okay at home?" she says as she lifts my sleeve.
I chuckle a bit and reply with a timid "yes". I then proceed to tell her a shorter version of the game, which Super claims, is a outward manifestation of his brotherly love. What does she do?
No sympathy
No "poor JM"
No "why do you beat your best friend, Super?"

A piece of dell taco wrapper resembling the tumbleweeds of the old west rolled past. We watched it for a while. Until it, like my ego, was hit by the next passing bus.
Conversation continued. We moved on to something else. Had a great time at the Del. My arm still looks like an old banana.

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Dialogue that just makes you feel...less than adequate.

Professor: (Holding my response to a practice essay question) So what should we do with this?

Me: Excuse me?

Professor: We could blow it up?

Me: Um, yeah we could do that. I am not sure I understand what you mean.

Professor: *sigh* It's OK. Don't feel bad. It is a practice problem and so I have no expectations.

Thanks. I know what I will be doing over the weekend. First final = 2 weeks away.

Friday, October 30, 2009

Constume Ideas Gone Wrong

So there I was...

This one is so good I am gonna have to try and remember how the dialogue went...hold up, I remember. Here it goes.

Torts. The class is ridiculously boring. I like the cases enough, but sometimes I get a little lost. My fault...and the fault of the row I sit it. We have a good time, especially on Friday's. Not only is it the end of the week, but we are all slammed and a little slap happy from studying. Anyway, my friends in this row, who will remain anonymous (but they know who they are) consist of some great folks. My study buddy sits one person away and we often get side tracked looking at fail photos or awkwardfamilyphotos (thanks for introducing it to me Josh, you saved my sanity). So this story has nothing to do with any of this, but it is just a little background.

Class ended and the young woman who sits next to me (she does not join in the blogging fun. She says it is a waste of time, but I told her it is because she does not have a sense of humor) asked what I was going to be for Halloween. Truth is, I was just planning on being the same thing I was last year, only modified because my Dad thinks the mask I made looks like a horse.

I do not want to be a horse.

So i told her that I was going to put blood on my face and call it my costume. Well, my study buddy happened to be listening in and she just had a really perplexed look as I shared this with "she-who-has-no-sense-of-humor" and on the way out the door she informed me that I could be a coal minor. Um, thanks? I love her. Wow, what a great costume idea i said, but in my head I was thinking she must be really tired. That is a terrible idea. Who dresses as a coal minor? Oh wait, any "My Bloody Valentine" fans? Pick-ax, watch out!

Anyway, we were all walking out to our cars together, joined by a few others that were not in on the previous conversation, and my study buddy and I were just talking about costumes and I was trying to explain to her what I was last year and how I was going to modify it. Finally, she turns to me and says, "No really, what are you going to be because dressing up as a black person is just not socially acceptable." What are you talking about? I turned to her and asked why I would be dressing up as a black person. Turns out that she thought when I said I was just going to put blood on my face, she thought I said I was going to put coal on my face hence the coal minor suggestion as well as the admonition to avoid the social backlash by dressing up as a black person.

Thank goodness it will be blood on my face and not coal. Oh the controversy that would rage stemming from such a small thing as coal.

Thanks for the warning study buddy. You probably saved my life.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

My Stupid Face

So there I was...

I've heard that your facial expressions say more than words. Not sure what that means for anyone else, but for me it has meant a lifetime of serious self misrepresentation...I guess. I have been steaming over this topic for quite sometime now and I think it has finally boiled enough for me to articulate what I mean.

The other day I had to interview with my writing professor. The memo due was a concoction of complexities and legal jargon that was so difficult to put together we had to have personal interviews. Anyway, I went to mine and after a rather annoying time of trying to find the room it was in, I was sitting in front of my professor with this pleading look on my face. I didn't have to say anything, the facial cues were enough. We delved in and I came back out a more enlightened person. While delving, it seems my facial cues changed to reflect a more personal issue as once we surfaced her attention was immediately focused to my bachelorhood. What? Where did this come from? I don't know this woman at all and I know I didn't have my "lost my number, can I have yours" shirt on, how did she know? This is where my face deceives me. She proceeded to tell me that I was too old to be LDS and not married. "Thanks for rubbing it in" I said. Look lady, help me with my paper not my social life...I have ldssingles.com for that. My stupid face. It betrays me. So I had to talk to her all about my dating life. It took all of about 3 seconds as there isn't currently much to tell.

Then my face did it again. Apparently there is a facial cue for "I am really picky when it comes to girls" 'cause that is what she came up with next. Grr. How does she do that!? My stupid face. Next came her strange, but well meaning, offer to set me up on dates. She was surprised when I accepted the offer. Why shouldn't I? My stupid face will just tell you I am lying if I say no. Here's the kicker though. The first person she wanted to set me up with was a 24 year old divorcee with 2 kids and the oldest is special needs...WTF? Really? It's not like I am picky, number one, in law school, number two, and don't even know you...and you want to set me up with a charity case? Sure, she is probably a great girl, and yes, if she were a pop starlett there would be no issue...but come on. It was the face again. My stupid face.

I bet it said something like "I love baggage".

Yeah, I wonder what that would look like.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

First day of the rest of my life...I hope it's not a sign

So there I was...

The first day of class. I was terrified. Sure people asked me of I was scared, and I would of course say no. In reality however, I was a mess. Civil Procedure was my first class...like I had any idea what that meant. I was about 15 minutes early just in case I had some problem when I got there because I always anticipate a problem. Nothing is really as easy as it should be. Anyway, the professor came in about 10 minutes before class was to start looking as if she wore her pajamas into class. Now that the professor was in the room everyone got really quiet, not that I was talking to anyone myself, but the background noise was helping with my nerves. She just stood there and watched the clock until the second hand was right at the top and then she began, "What is civil procedure?", an excellent question I felt. She started on and on about how it is hard to study because it is not like a contract or something that we are all familiar with. "All of you have entered into a contract at some point or another" she said. "Is there anyone here who has never entered into a contract?" Well, with all my nerves sitting tightly in my throat I raised my hand in answer to this question. I totally thought she said "How many of you have ever entered into a contract?" thinking that many others would too raise their hands I didn't think it was going to be so terrible. Everyone else, I guess, heard the question properly 'cause I sure was the only one that raised. Immediately she whipped around and looked at me. "You have never purchased anything thing?" she asked in a harsh whisper, stalking over to my side of the room. Great, I thought, now I am labeled as the stupid kid. "I think I misunderstood the question", I timidly replied. "Did you say 'who has never entered into a contract?'" She nodded her head. "Oh yeah" I spouted, "I've entered into lots of those". Thankfully she smiled and the tension in the room eased, but I am sure the redness of my face was there the rest of the class session as I felt it get unusually hot. "Never in my years of teaching has anyone ever raised there hand in response to that question" she announced to the class as she resumed her lecture.

Yeah, well you have never met me before either. Get use to it.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Walmart Plastic

So there I was...
Cleaning my room so that I can fit in all my junk from living all over for the past ten years and I found a Walmart gift card! It was smeared, smudged, and had a snowman on the front...called the number on the back and YES!!!! it still has $30 on it. Saved my life by total accident.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Mexi Casa

So there we were...
The other day I went back home to visit and to attend the No Doubt concert. The night before we visited Mexi Casa. As this is my favorite dining destination, naturally, I was excited to go. We are seated in a booth, close to the entrance, next to a trio of older women. Now these older ladies were not afraid of anyone else hearing their conversation (or perhaps they had to talk loud in order to hear each other) so I listened in. I don't think this was a bad thing. Sure, what they were discussing was one of my business, but it is not like they were being secretive. Besides, if you don't want people to hear don't talk so loud. Anyway, one of the women began to discuss her trip car shopping. She decided she wanted to look at the Smart Car. Her sons, being the protective angels she believed they were, tried to steer her away from this choice. I am sure the thought of their mother smeared all over the freeway was the reason for their hesitance. After all, there isn't much between you and the road in those things. She was a little upset with them as she felt they were perfectly safe. Her friend across from her agreed. However, the one in between the both hadn't said much and I had kinda forgotten she was there...or perhaps assumed she was a mute. She must have heard my thoughts and to prove me wrong immediatly joined the conversation asking a few questions as she was unsure what a smart car was. The other ladies explained to her what it was. Suddenly her voice brightens up with the sounds of recognition and she says, "oh, I know what they are...they look like a pregnant roller skate!"
I laughed outloud. Totally could have been in a movie.