You really have to applaud Michael Jackson for the concept of the Neverland Ranch. No, no, I'm not condoning his sleepovers with underage boys (But do talk to me later for a joke about what Mr. Jackson and Sears have in common), but I am giving him props for the fact that, somewhere in that delusional mind of his, he realized what a drag it is to grow up. Jack-O baby, I'm feeling your pain.
I just spent the better part of an hour browsing a bunch of pictures from when I was an undergrad. I had a smile a mile wide. I know I wasn't doing homework then, I had been through only one gay boyfriend so far, and being with my friends 24/7 didn't wear me out. I didn't have a clue what I was going to be doing in 5-10 years, and judging by the look on my face, I don't think I really cared. Sure, I'm only 8 months out of college, but I miss that time already. More than anything though, my trip down Memory Lane made me a little scared.
There was this guy I used to make fun of because he said high school was "the best time of my life." He and his friends ruled the school, he got to play football, and the girls wanted him (That had to be a stretch; he was as tall as a frickin' Keebler Elf). I giggled at the cliche then, but I shudder at it now. Right now, I'm tired as hell, and watching Forensic Files in my PJs now qualifies as "weekend plans." I'm so terrified that at 23, I've had "the best time of my life."
Even until last year, I had my life on a timeline--Married by 27, kids done by 35, Golden Retriever named Max--it was arbitrary and immature and wonderful. Now, I have no idea what to expect because I have no idea what I even want. I've realized I'm more selfish than I ever knew how to be because my time and energy are precious, and I want it all to myself. The thought of committing to even a dating relationship right now makes me squirm, I can't decide where to live this summer, and I usually buy way too many groceries because I don't even know what I like to eat for dinner anymore. Let's not even start on the fact that I don't believe in falling in love anymore, which is something I've wanted since I could breathe. My head is in a big conflict with my heart and I hate it. I'm scared that not knowing what I want is going to drag me into a position of complacency. But more than anything, I'm terrified that I'm trapped in a never-ending Taylor Swift song, where I lose my virginity to the captain of the football team, get abandoned by a fictional character, and then sit on the curb and cry all over myself as I watch some hussy and the love of my life, named Drew, hug all over each other and be in love. That's just not how I pictured me.
That was sufficiently depressing. I'm now going to crawl into my bed and read vampire love stories. Night.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Disclaimer
The views expressed in all blog postings are mere generalizations and at times, slight exaggerations. I've had questions (not that I have a readership or anything), so I thought I'd clear that up. Serious problems with any specific person will be addressed outside the blog-o-sphere.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
No Solicitation, Please
It's 100% official. I now have a #1 on the list of things Amy Pratt Hates with All Her Cold, Hard, Beating Heart. Unsolicited Advice. I hate it. I loathe it. If I wanted your opinion, I'd ask for it.
It's taken me almost 23 years to realize that I hate advice. I try not to give my thoughts on a situation unless somebody asks me outright. One day, I won't give advice unless I bill you for it; that's how much I don't value your unsolicited opinion.
Sure, tell me what you thought about a movie, a book, Sarah Palin's lipstick--that's absolutely fine--just don't tell me how you think I should conduct my day-to-day affairs or how I should act in any sort of relationship...especially dating relationships.
I've recently entered into an official Facebook relationship with a fantastic guy. We're moving right along at a pace we're comfortable with, and that suits us just fine, yet I'm being told that being "official" a mere 3 weeks after the "talking" stage is just moving too fast; really, it's not this opinion that bothers me just so much, it's just that all the unsolicited advice I've been given has filled up a huge storage closet in my head and it's bursting at its hinges. Just in the past 3 years or so, I've been given a few key pieces of advice that really stand out in my mind.
...when you least expect it.
It's taken me almost 23 years to realize that I hate advice. I try not to give my thoughts on a situation unless somebody asks me outright. One day, I won't give advice unless I bill you for it; that's how much I don't value your unsolicited opinion.
Sure, tell me what you thought about a movie, a book, Sarah Palin's lipstick--that's absolutely fine--just don't tell me how you think I should conduct my day-to-day affairs or how I should act in any sort of relationship...especially dating relationships.
I've recently entered into an official Facebook relationship with a fantastic guy. We're moving right along at a pace we're comfortable with, and that suits us just fine, yet I'm being told that being "official" a mere 3 weeks after the "talking" stage is just moving too fast; really, it's not this opinion that bothers me just so much, it's just that all the unsolicited advice I've been given has filled up a huge storage closet in my head and it's bursting at its hinges. Just in the past 3 years or so, I've been given a few key pieces of advice that really stand out in my mind.
- The Doctrine of When You Least Expect It: Apparently, good things don't come to those who wait; they come to those who do not anticipate. Almost any time I'd ever whined to a happily attached girlfriend about the lack of a man in my life, this phrase flowed like milk and honey out of the Promised Land. Amy, you'll find him...when you least expect it. The right one will come along...when you least expect it. Forget asking, seeking, and knocking; all you have to do is stop expecting things and--poof!--there it is. I think I'm gonna stop expecting my JD and see what happens.
- Play Hard-to-Get: Ok sure. Nobody likes a person who reeks of desperation, and I'll be the first to admit that in life in general, a little mystery keeps things interesting. I'm not saying that such a game doesn't work; act disinterested and expect a little extra attention. On a personal level, however, I prefer to be my assertive, aggressive self. I appreciate someone who will still stick around after I've blurted out that I think you're the hottest thing since Sun Chips or that one day I want a red station-wagon, 3.5 kids and a golden retriever. I just don't have time to waste (except in writing blogs, I'll give you that) and I prefer to be up front with what I think and feel, and I want someone to extend to me the same courtesy. Maybe I'm crazy.
- He's Gotta Be Just Like Mike: This principal governing all successful relationships is a close second to The Doctrine of When You Least Expect It. Anytime I've ever recounted my murky dating life to a blissfully bonded friend, she liked to tell me how what I was going through couldn't possibly have potential/hope/an ice cube's chance in hell because the events unfolding in my situation weren't analogous to what went down in her relationship. I met Mike on a Sunday and he called and asked me for dinner the following Monday. Mike never waited more than 2 days between those initial phone calls. Mike jumped off a bridge to prove his devotion for me. Granted, there are always telltale signs of a relationship on the up and up (he introduced you to his friends, took you out on a real date, didn't make you sneak in the back door to the basement after turning off your headlights in the cul-de-sac, etc.), but the beauty of planet earth is that we aren't all exactly the same. I'm just a firm believer that what works for one doesn't necessarily work for another.
...when you least expect it.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Stop Me If You've Heard This One!
Yes folks, it's that time of the week that I decide to prolong the inevitable i.e., sleeping only to wake up, writing a memo, etc., and stay up til an ungodly hour and blog.
I enjoy the Facebook group "You Might Be In Law School If..." cause it's hilarious and en pointe. My favorite "You Might Be..." is "You can’t remember if you decided to come to law school because you wanted to help people and make a difference in the world or because you hate yourself." Eight weeks ago I was hoping for liberty and justice for all. Now I'm pretty sure that there is no such thing as liberty, and justice for all? Well, you optimists, you can forgettaboutit. Parties lose lawsuits on mere technicalities. The bench sometimes interprets statutes to their own liking. Such facts have led me to the conclusion that life isn't fair. I'm also much less sympathetic to others than I used to be. Like yesterday, I heard on the radio that some man got shot 5 times by a tow-truck driver over his refusal to move his car at an apartment complex or something or other. Instead of shaking my head in disbelief at "people these days" I found myself thinking about respondeat superior and wondering if the man's family would have a claim against the towing company for the actions of their driver. Hmmm.
Since becoming a law student, I find I pop pills and consume alcoholic beverages like none other. Ok, there are others way worse than I am, but I never used to take Tylenol PM/Excedrin Tension Headache/Iburpofen all in a given week just to function, nor did I ever have to count the number of glasses of wine or Blue Moons I drank in a given week and enter it into a database to see if I had a problem. Ok, maybe that's a little extreme, but you get the point; I'm exhausted but I'm too wound up to go to sleep, I'm so tired I'm nauseated, the list goes on and on. Yes, I'm praying about this and reciting Bible verses to get me through the day. Please don't judge me for drinking alcohol sometimes. Or for trafficking illegal drugs and supplying weapons to minors.
I still can't keep up with everyone I love so much. I forget who I've talked to, who I've told what, and I just can't keep it all together. For anybody who's reading this and cares, please be patient with me. I'm doing the best I can, and yes, the "best I can" also includes taking time for myself to write creatively/Facebook stalk/watch tv/make new friends in Memphis/have a ridiculously good-looking boyfriend. I miss my peeps, but I can't let this part of my life pass me by for fear that I'm gonna break your heart if we're not on the phone 24/7. Friends back home, I love you, but this is hard on me too. Perhaps one day the old Amy will return! Well, she never really left but, you get the picture.
So much more I could say, but alas, my head is hurting and I need to sleep so I can knock out the rest of this memo and some contracts homework tomorrow.
I also think there's an ambulance outside that needs chasing.
I enjoy the Facebook group "You Might Be In Law School If..." cause it's hilarious and en pointe. My favorite "You Might Be..." is "You can’t remember if you decided to come to law school because you wanted to help people and make a difference in the world or because you hate yourself." Eight weeks ago I was hoping for liberty and justice for all. Now I'm pretty sure that there is no such thing as liberty, and justice for all? Well, you optimists, you can forgettaboutit. Parties lose lawsuits on mere technicalities. The bench sometimes interprets statutes to their own liking. Such facts have led me to the conclusion that life isn't fair. I'm also much less sympathetic to others than I used to be. Like yesterday, I heard on the radio that some man got shot 5 times by a tow-truck driver over his refusal to move his car at an apartment complex or something or other. Instead of shaking my head in disbelief at "people these days" I found myself thinking about respondeat superior and wondering if the man's family would have a claim against the towing company for the actions of their driver. Hmmm.
Since becoming a law student, I find I pop pills and consume alcoholic beverages like none other. Ok, there are others way worse than I am, but I never used to take Tylenol PM/Excedrin Tension Headache/Iburpofen all in a given week just to function, nor did I ever have to count the number of glasses of wine or Blue Moons I drank in a given week and enter it into a database to see if I had a problem. Ok, maybe that's a little extreme, but you get the point; I'm exhausted but I'm too wound up to go to sleep, I'm so tired I'm nauseated, the list goes on and on. Yes, I'm praying about this and reciting Bible verses to get me through the day. Please don't judge me for drinking alcohol sometimes. Or for trafficking illegal drugs and supplying weapons to minors.
I still can't keep up with everyone I love so much. I forget who I've talked to, who I've told what, and I just can't keep it all together. For anybody who's reading this and cares, please be patient with me. I'm doing the best I can, and yes, the "best I can" also includes taking time for myself to write creatively/Facebook stalk/watch tv/make new friends in Memphis/have a ridiculously good-looking boyfriend. I miss my peeps, but I can't let this part of my life pass me by for fear that I'm gonna break your heart if we're not on the phone 24/7. Friends back home, I love you, but this is hard on me too. Perhaps one day the old Amy will return! Well, she never really left but, you get the picture.
So much more I could say, but alas, my head is hurting and I need to sleep so I can knock out the rest of this memo and some contracts homework tomorrow.
I also think there's an ambulance outside that needs chasing.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Hum Drum and a Little Glum
It makes absolutely perfect sense that when you get burnt out on reading and briefing that you would blog. I'm too hyped up on caffeine and stress to be able to sleep. Today was hellish. Tomorrow will be worse. Dear Lord Jesus please help me through it!
First things first. Friday I had the best bona-fide date of my life. Seriously. Again, not saying too much, but I was so appreciative and flattered that somebody put thought and creativity into taking me out. He even calls me. He even admits he likes me. He has Jesus in his heart and is just downright fantastic. He looks great in pictures with me. He might just be a keeper. I hope he feels the same.
School is hard. It is really hard. It's like a marathon. I'm 1/4 of the way through being a 1L, and I'm running out of steam. My head hurts. I have to take Excedrin Tension Headache to make it through the day. I can't get to sleep and I can't get out of bed in the mornings. We have a new contracts professor since our old one is sick. We are 8 classes behind the other section. I'm worn out, and it's only Tuesday.
I love Torts, but the cases make me angry. I still think Marvin Katko deserved to be shot by that spring-loaded shot gun, no matter what the court said. He shouldn't have been able to sue the Brineys for trying to protect their property. But that's only my opinion. Bleh.
I'm ready for the election to be over with. I really hate the commentary on Facebook. No matter what happens, I think we'll all be alright. The Lord will take care of us. I will not move to Canada. God bless America. Let's have a sense of humor about things and not fight each other. I read too many arguments in judicial opinions each day, and I don't feel like pitting my crap opinion against your crap opinion, so don't ask for it.
Gotta make it through Thursday. Gotta do a decent job on that memo. Then I'm going to watch Silence of the Lambs, because that's what heartless lawyers-to-be do. They watch horror movies so that they'll appreciate not literally being eaten for breakfast, just figuratively.
First things first. Friday I had the best bona-fide date of my life. Seriously. Again, not saying too much, but I was so appreciative and flattered that somebody put thought and creativity into taking me out. He even calls me. He even admits he likes me. He has Jesus in his heart and is just downright fantastic. He looks great in pictures with me. He might just be a keeper. I hope he feels the same.
School is hard. It is really hard. It's like a marathon. I'm 1/4 of the way through being a 1L, and I'm running out of steam. My head hurts. I have to take Excedrin Tension Headache to make it through the day. I can't get to sleep and I can't get out of bed in the mornings. We have a new contracts professor since our old one is sick. We are 8 classes behind the other section. I'm worn out, and it's only Tuesday.
I love Torts, but the cases make me angry. I still think Marvin Katko deserved to be shot by that spring-loaded shot gun, no matter what the court said. He shouldn't have been able to sue the Brineys for trying to protect their property. But that's only my opinion. Bleh.
I'm ready for the election to be over with. I really hate the commentary on Facebook. No matter what happens, I think we'll all be alright. The Lord will take care of us. I will not move to Canada. God bless America. Let's have a sense of humor about things and not fight each other. I read too many arguments in judicial opinions each day, and I don't feel like pitting my crap opinion against your crap opinion, so don't ask for it.
Gotta make it through Thursday. Gotta do a decent job on that memo. Then I'm going to watch Silence of the Lambs, because that's what heartless lawyers-to-be do. They watch horror movies so that they'll appreciate not literally being eaten for breakfast, just figuratively.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Helloooooo Three Weeks Later!
Warning: The following blog is slightly childish and reminiscent of a scene from Napoleon Dynamite. Reader discretion is advised.
Yeah man, I've been slacking on the blogging. My brain is becoming more and more full of legal things that I don't understand, therefore clouding my thoughts and hampering my creative genius (except for right now, when I'm 100% full of crap).
Memphis is still good. Finding my way around more. A little more than a week ago I had a bout with homesickness (seriously, you think that would've happened a week after my parents left me here), but I'm fine now. More earth shattering, I finally wised-up and realized that that someone who I just couldn't get over, was truly as asshole (sorry for the foul language, but there's no other way around it). My low point and time of epiphany came when I was sitting in the library, writing him a stupid facebook message since his phone was broken and he wasn't responding to me anyway, and I realized that he created one of those gay "my phone is broken, need your numbers" groups and managed to ask every rando and her brother to join. Except for me. Sure, seems like a small thing, but when you're heart has been on a roller coaster for 7 months and you've allowed someone to treat you like his dirty little secret, and you find yourself silently crying in the girls' bathroom over something as trivial as a Facebook group invite, you realize that it's time to act like the almost 23-year old woman future attorney that you are, and take control of your life. I decided I could let him continue to jerk me around as he saw fit, or I could take control, let him know that I was moving on, and believe the words that were coming out of my very own mouth. So I did just that. Didn't hear anything from him after that. Until tonight when he decides to text me with something completely benign, probably fishing for some sort of ego boost. Sorry buddy, but you're barking up the wrong tree. Maybe it's time you just stopped barking altogether.
Sorry for that completely high school diary entry. Moving on.
Exciting news though! The Husband Hunt (kidding) is looking up! Someone completely unexpected kind of "came into my life" recently. Things are very preliminary, and I'm not gonna say much or get my hopes up, but I'm very interested to see what happens. Cause he's kind and considerate and etc. and straight-up gorgeous. Bonus: he's also straight. *Fist pump* Basically I can't make any real assessments yet, but I'm excited. And scared. Just go with it Amy, go with it.
So yeah. Besides law, those are the main things running through my head right now. Superficial and juvenile, I know. But in the words (or shall I say lyrics?) of Britney Spears, "I'm not a girl, not yet a woman."
Oops. I did it again.
Yeah man, I've been slacking on the blogging. My brain is becoming more and more full of legal things that I don't understand, therefore clouding my thoughts and hampering my creative genius (except for right now, when I'm 100% full of crap).
Memphis is still good. Finding my way around more. A little more than a week ago I had a bout with homesickness (seriously, you think that would've happened a week after my parents left me here), but I'm fine now. More earth shattering, I finally wised-up and realized that that someone who I just couldn't get over, was truly as asshole (sorry for the foul language, but there's no other way around it). My low point and time of epiphany came when I was sitting in the library, writing him a stupid facebook message since his phone was broken and he wasn't responding to me anyway, and I realized that he created one of those gay "my phone is broken, need your numbers" groups and managed to ask every rando and her brother to join. Except for me. Sure, seems like a small thing, but when you're heart has been on a roller coaster for 7 months and you've allowed someone to treat you like his dirty little secret, and you find yourself silently crying in the girls' bathroom over something as trivial as a Facebook group invite, you realize that it's time to act like the almost 23-year old woman future attorney that you are, and take control of your life. I decided I could let him continue to jerk me around as he saw fit, or I could take control, let him know that I was moving on, and believe the words that were coming out of my very own mouth. So I did just that. Didn't hear anything from him after that. Until tonight when he decides to text me with something completely benign, probably fishing for some sort of ego boost. Sorry buddy, but you're barking up the wrong tree. Maybe it's time you just stopped barking altogether.
Sorry for that completely high school diary entry. Moving on.
Exciting news though! The Husband Hunt (kidding) is looking up! Someone completely unexpected kind of "came into my life" recently. Things are very preliminary, and I'm not gonna say much or get my hopes up, but I'm very interested to see what happens. Cause he's kind and considerate and etc. and straight-up gorgeous. Bonus: he's also straight. *Fist pump* Basically I can't make any real assessments yet, but I'm excited. And scared. Just go with it Amy, go with it.
So yeah. Besides law, those are the main things running through my head right now. Superficial and juvenile, I know. But in the words (or shall I say lyrics?) of Britney Spears, "I'm not a girl, not yet a woman."
Oops. I did it again.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
How Old Am I Again?
I gotta say: today was a good day.
Although I could barely bring myself to crawl out of bed, I managed to get to school a whopping 25 minutes early (even after parking!), put my books in my locker (yes, I said locker) and take a seat before the professor did. On top of that, classes were decent, my homework load was as light as it probably will ever be, and I had a sweet little shopping trip by myself. It was pretty fab.
I've heard it mentioned before, but right here, on the record, it has to be said: law school is a lot like Junior High School. Here's why:
Until next time, friends.
Although I could barely bring myself to crawl out of bed, I managed to get to school a whopping 25 minutes early (even after parking!), put my books in my locker (yes, I said locker) and take a seat before the professor did. On top of that, classes were decent, my homework load was as light as it probably will ever be, and I had a sweet little shopping trip by myself. It was pretty fab.
I've heard it mentioned before, but right here, on the record, it has to be said: law school is a lot like Junior High School. Here's why:
- Lockers Oh yes, that's right. For the low price of $5 per semester, law students at the University of Memphis can have their very own locker for storage of books, binders, lunchboxes, and other legal items. Combination lock included. You may think you're too cool to have a locker, but spend a day carrying around at least 5 casebooks and a law dictionary and you'll think twice. I've contemplated buying a locker shelf, magnetic mirror, and Jonas Brothers paraphernalia, but alas, my books and TigerBeat teen magazine will just have to keep each other company in the dark recesses of the locker bay.
- Lunchboxes The last time I carried a legitimate lunchbox was in Junior High (Middle
School, we Karns folk called it). High school I either bought my lunch or brown bagged it, and college lunch was anything I could microwave in Greve or bum when I babysat. Now, if you don't want to starve from 9-5 or pay $7 a pop for a meal every day, you best be packin'...lunch, that is. I have a delightful lavendar Arctic Zone that I carry daily. I pack my sandwich and fruit snacks and juice box with my cute purple ice pack and it sustains me. We even have a cute little student lounge with tables and microwaves. No lunchroom monitor though. - Assigned Seats You thought that when you went to professional school you would have freedom surpassing that of any undergraduate classroom, but instead, you find yourself checking the seating chart as you enter the room to make sure you're counted present and sitting in the right spot. Never mind these professors know every Restatement (Second) of Torts or the majority of the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure; matching 71 names with 71 faces is impossible, hence, the assigned seats.
- Gossip The law school as a whole has approximately 450 students, and there are fewer than 150 first year law students. We are divided into 2 sections of 70 something students per section, so it's fairly simple to know who's who and whatnot. My friend Kari is in the opposite section from me, but we can still discuss who's dating whom and who freaked out in Torts and laugh about the guy who is ambiguously gay/cross-eyed with relative ease.
- Insecurity I can only speak for myself on this one, but for the first time in 3-4 years, I'm trying on multiple outfits before I hit the door at 8 am, I stress over my hair like none-other, and I have to psych myself up to talk to anyone who looks relatively cool...which is pretty much everyone. This has been the most humbling part of school so far. Although UT was a huge campus, I was rarely intimidated. After working as an Orientation Leader for Incoming Freshmen in 2007, I couldn't go many places without being called Patti Mayonnaise (my character in a skit) or hearing "hey, weren't you my OL..." and I was 2nd in command in my sorority for a whole year, so I just got used to being the big fish in that proverbial pond. Sure, there were tons of people who were involved with waaay more things that I ever was, but I was in a place where I was comfortable, and that's been a huge shock for me. Yeah, I've made friends, but I always wonder if I've been invited somewhere as a last resort or something ridiculous like that. I went shopping for "cooler" clothes this weekend so I wouldn't feel like such a doofus walking into class. Everybody's so good looking and put together for the most part, and I've definitely been knocked off that high-horse I was on for awhile. I seriously became one of the most superficial people I'd ever met! Nothin' like a little humility to put you back where you belong.
Until next time, friends.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
