Addendum

I always have these little afterthoughts once I post a blog, so I can't just let it be.

I really hope I didn't come across as a complete and total jerk in that last post about tools-from-law school. Nobody's said anything to imply that was offensive or what not, but I felt bad that a post or two earlier I was talking about how wonderful the Lord is and then I turn right around and say something really mean that probably stems from my own bitterness over the whole law school situation. Yeah, I know I'm going to screw up again in the very near future, but I didn't want to give Christians a bad name in claiming to be one and then being so biting. My apologies.

Still, I am the happiest I've been in awhile, and for that I am grateful and I know I am blessed. And of course, wherever you go, there you are.

Let's Play Catch-Up

So it appears that the last little blog blurb should have been called "Coming Later" rather than "Coming Soon". But good things come to those who wait, right?

I was really aiming to not talk about my feelings or mention the words "law" and "school" in the same sentence in this blog, but it looks like I will anyway. The good news is, I have good news. But first, let's poke fun at a non-law school graduate program, shall we?

Follow-up from previous post:

Guy in American Lit says he can't watch The Office because there are too many "socially awkward" situations. That's the point, brainiac. What's more socially awkward? The guy had more facial hair than Bigfoot himself, and this guy has access to a razor.

• This guy puts my classmates and I in socially awkward situations every day. I wish I could insert a dramatization of daily events here. Just use your imagination. Enter man. High-waisted pants. Shirt tucked in. No belt. Hair down to rear end. Beard. Resembles an unkempt, Anglo-Saxon Jesus. Stands beside desk. Flips hair over both shoulders. Right jab, left cross, head tilt. Sit. Class begins. Right jab, left cross, head tilt. My roommate suggested Tourettes syndrome as a possible explanation. You be the judge.

The long-lost Jonas Brother is in the same class.

• I have two classes with the Jo-Bro. He's an extremely nice, funny guy, but every time he walks into class, I hear the Jonas Brothers in my head (I would have said I can hear duhduh duh du-uh "I told you I made dinner plans/for you and me and no one else..." but you wouldn't catch it since I'm the only person over the age of 16 who owns their CD.).

I already found one girl, maybe two, I'd like to spill hot coffee on.

• Nice girl. I'm the one with the problem. And the hot coffee.

Now that we've had the chance to reminisce and reflect, I have to present you with the most wonderful grad school discovery yet: Talky McOldLady.

I have to credit the humorous name of this character to Laura Beth, who also faithfully documents the absurdities of Talky in a word document on her Mac. I'm just the messenger.

We should have known ol' Talky was going to be our main source of comic relief the day she walked in wearing velvety paisley pants and tried to convince Dr. Link that the rise of the picaresque novel in America paralleled the rise of opera in England.
Link: Well...I don't know about that. I don't know much about opera.
Talky: Me either.

Dr. Link had us buy a specific edition of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, as it was the complete authoritative text. He polled the class one morning.
Link: How much did the campus bookstore charge for this version of Huck Finn? THIS version. Not the Penguin Classic, not any other version. THIS SPECIFIC VERSION.
Class: Used, about $13.95. New, more like $17.95. Wasn't that bad.
Talky: I found the hardcover for $7.95 at Book Star.
Link: Seriously? Hard cover, for THIS SPECIFIC VERSION?
Talky: Oh, no, not that one. I didn't know what we were talking about.

That same day Talky tried to finish Link's sentence.
Link: The three characters of Rebecca Harding Davis' Life in the Iron Mills represent the head, the heart, and...???
Talky: The Feet!
Link: The pocket.

Then there was the lecture over the Civil War.
Link: ...and then there was the Battle of Chancellorsville. And what novel are we reading for this class that deals with the Battle of Chancellorsville?
Talking: The Novel of Chancellorsville!
Link: The Red Badge of Courage.
Note: The Novel of Chancellorsville was not on the syllabus. Probably because there is no Novel of Chancellorsville.

And finally...
Link: What Southern novel is it where the man has sex with the sheep?
Talky: Absalom, Absalom!
Link: Anybody know?
Talky: Absalom, Absalom!
Link: ?
Talky: Absalom, Absalom!
Link: (finally acknowledging her) there actually aren't even farm animals in that novel. Anybody?

I can't even do the woman justice. You just have to be there. Anyway, the MA program is great. Of course, the first two weeks I hung my head in disgust at just how worthless English is and how I really screwed it up with law school and how I'd better brush up on my house-wife skills and birthing abilities. But then I started having loads of fun. IN CLASS. Like discussing different interpretations of Amiri Baraka's poetry. And learning how to teach writing. Watching entire movies about the Helvetica font while eating jerk chicken Nachos our teacher bought us for class. The environment is a complete 180 from that of law school. We sit in semi-circles or around tables with our professors and peers. One of my teachers thanked me for doing some research on a poem that I figured I was supposed to do anyway. We're always being asked our opinions and people actually thank you for sharing and encourage your line of thought. The professors have so much less ego too. I got caught by a train the second week of school and came to my American Lit class 15 minutes late. I opened the door and braced myself for an "evil eye" or royal ass-chewing/request to leave. Dr. Link said "Come on in!" and continued lecturing. I don't fear class anymore and I'm being encouraged to think and write original papers with an original thesis that complements my research interests, instead of regurgitate in 3 hours on a computer screen all I've learned in a semester. Much to my surprise, I'm really enjoying myself and I genuinely think this is where I'm supposed to be and what I'm supposed to be doing. Life is good again.

Ok, go ahead and do your sneering, tools-from law school-who-read-my-blog (Note: going to law school doesn't make you a tool. I have a lot of great friends from the law school. I'm speaking specifically to the sneering tools here). "She's just saying that because she got academically excluded/is pissed she can't do moot court like I can/generally sucks at life." You can now go stuff it. I don't cry myself to sleep at night. I enjoy what I learn, and my so-called "friends" aren't trying to psych me out before an exam or lie to me about an assignment so they can get ahead. It's quite nice. I'll now let you get back to not-briefing-cases-because-it's-lame and counting all the Facebook friends you've acquired since you started a smaller school where people might actually remember your name since you won't shut up in class and they're pretty much forced to.

And I'll get back to time-out for acting really childish in that last paragraph. But soooooo?! Booyah.

Coming Soon...

Day 1 of classes for the MA in English. Excellent blog fodder? Oh yes.

• Guy in American Lit says he can't watch The Office because there are too many "socially awkward" situations. That's the point, brainiac. What's more socially awkward? The guy had more facial hair than Bigfoot himself, and this guy has access to a razor.
  
• The long-lost Jonas Brother is in the same class.
  
• I already found one girl, maybe two, I'd like to spill hot coffee on.

Look for the full version soon.

PS-If I allowed a travel agency from Singapore to advertise on my blog, would you think less of me?

Up Close and Personal

I've been working up the courage for WEEKS to be able to write something more personal again. I know, I know. That's a really stupid thing to say when VOLUNTARILY keeping a blog that maybe 10 people total read. Let me explain.

After the initial heartbreak of my "academic exclusion" (my new favorite euphemism, by the way) from good ol' Cecil C. Humphreys School of Law (and for the record, no I did not fail any classes, you Nosies, not that it matters now anyway)(there are too many little asides in here already, aren't there?)and my announcement of my "exclusion" (see earlier post, The Rest of the Story), I decided that I was going to start being super private about anything going on in my life. See, somewhere around my sophomore year at UT, the filter on my mouth was removed and I became a world-class blurter. Like the time I told my OL class that I was having a bad week because I was trying to cover up four hickeys on my neck(I know I mentioned that another time. I'm secretly proud of my ability to bruise so well). Or the time I told my entire English class that I had an odd Spring Break because one of my friends came out of the closet. Nervous laughter from thirty students. My professor commenting that at least my friend and I had no more secrets. Open mouth, insert shoe store. Ok right. Back on track. Anyway, I decided that I was no longer going to fill anyone in on the bigger things in life. Like just let things be a secret. That way, if something major falls through, like law school, for example, nobody would know. I wouldn't have to fake my death and move to Mexico as planned. I could just pick another back-up plan and move on. I cut back on my Facebook statusing too, so that I could just be some kind of mystery (like anybody noticed. I can be so self-absorbed sometimes)and fade into the shadows. Who am I kidding? I love talking about myself! I hate the shadows, and I love sharing my feelings, whether anybody else cares or not. It's hard to deny who you are.

I'm pleased to share that at the end of this month, I will be starting the Master's program in English, Composition Studies, back at the University of Memphis. I've definitely had some moments where I feel like I'm taking a big step-down, that the maintenance guy at my apartment complex is going to be sad that I'm not gonna get that JD, and that my parents are secretly going to hang their heads in disgust at my failure. I even asked my mom if she would make the drive to see me graduate. "Why wouldn't I?" "Because," I said, putting on my best pathetic face, "It's just a Master's." My mother is definitely not a make-you-feel-good kind of person. "S***! I'd love to just finish my degree." (I'm not sure my mom actually cursed there. It just sounds better in my head like that.) I cowered and began to process that perspective.

I can't even begin to describe how lucky I feel to have this opportunity. The pity parties I've thrown myself and the self-deprecation have to stop! What are the odds that the deadline for a graduate program focusing on my favorite subject in the free world was August 1st? I had ample time to apply, study, take the GRE, and be admitted. My student loans have been reinstated, I still have my apartment for the next year, and the friends I've made in Memphis aren't going anywhere. In fact, one of my law school friends is going into the EXACT same program! It's been so great to have her there to check in with and talk things over with. I appreciate it, LB :) Let's not forget that my tuition is cheaper, I'll later have the opportunity to be a Graduate Assistant, and I probably won't have to sip Sutter Home's $8.99 jumbo-sized bottle of White Merlot to depress my nerves enough to breathe while doing homework.

I'm FINALLY realizing that I am blessed. Sure, I'm still bummed about law school, and yeah, if given the choice I'd rather be heading back to Cecil C's. It kills me that I can't finish what I started, and that I one day decide to try it again, I have to start all over; however, there's no way I can deny that the Lord is taking care of me through all this. He's shown me so many people who support me. He's provided an opportunity to begin again and given me the means to do so. There have been weeks this summer that I couldn't bring myself to even pray. I just felt like anything I asked for or the praise I was supposed to give was worth nothing. I've avoided my Bible because the devotions I read just sounded like crap. But now, trying to reflect back on the last few months, it amazes me that our holy and perfect God continued to love me when I couldn't love myself. This all sounds self-righteous and holier-than-thou, I'm sure. I'm just glad that Jesus is still faithful, even when I'm not.

I've got about an hour and a half left until I am free from my job in a cubicle for.ever. I'll be packing up Knoxville tomorrow and heading back to the Memphis the day after that. I have no books, no clue what classes I'm taking, even how long the program is, or what I'm doing after, but I'm excited to see what these kooky English freaks are all about. The people in the English program at UT were an interesting lot, that's for sure. Probably why our building was always getting bomb threats. Hmm.

Okay, time to go buy a 50 lb bag of ammonium nitrate and a moleskin journal for my thoughts. Here's to hoping for another essential AmyPratt experience.


Disclaimer to the Feds: that thing about the ammonium nitrate was a joke, just in case Big Brother is going through my things right now.

In Memoriam

It is with great sadness I must report to you, oh blog-o-sphere, that my sweet guinea pig Jim passed away sometime this weekend. The story of his death is below.

Guinea Pig, Jim, age unknown, was found early Sunday afternoon in his Cordova, TN residence by close friend Kelly Smithson. Rigor mortis had set in. Cause of death is unknown. Cage-mate and close friend James was unable to provide any details as to Jim's death, but was described by Smithson as "sad-looking" and "shaken." Adequate food and water were present at the scene, apparently untouched. There was no forced-entry and at this time foul-play is not suspected. Care-taker and confidant Amy Pratt, who was not present at Jim's death, was available for a phone interview from Knoxville later this afternoon. "The news came as such a shock to me. I'm absolutely heart-broken that I wasn't there when he passed. I've been away for work since May, and I'll never forgive myself for not spending these last two months with him." While she would neither confirm nor deny, Pratt was questioned about earlier statements she had made regarding Jim's being "ambiguously gay" and "closeted." While she does believe that the guinea pig was negatively impacted by the passing of Pop Icon Michael Jackson late last month, Pratt balked at the suggestion that Jim's death could have been a suicide. "It's ludicrous and I won't hear such absurd notions. This interview is over." Pratt erupted into sobs and promptly hung up the phone.

If you have any information regarding the death of Jim the Guinea Pig, please contact Shelby County authorities.

Disclaimer #2

In my previous post, I made the statement "Most of all I'm embarrassed. ... that my parents have to make up stuff when people ask about the big law school student." Today after reading my post, my parents informed me that they do not make up stuff when people ask about school. They do not lie. "We're proud of you no matter what, kid," my dad assured me. "Lawyer, teacher, restaurant waitress..." "Let's not go that far," my mother interjected.

I told my parents that sometimes I exaggerate things for comedic or dramatic effect, i.e., the entire posting about Jim, my ambiguously gay guinea pig. My sister informed me that this is, in effect, lying. Sigh. Blog-o-sphere, they don't get us. Siiigggghhhh.

So, just to prevent further misunderstandings, I'd like to post my second disclaimer.

All statements and opinions expressed in this blog are solely those of the blogger, and not necessarily those of persons associated with the blogger. While stories and situations are based on actual people and events, they are not entirely true and/or accurate. However, any resemblance to actual people and events is purely on purpose. Names have been changed and/or kept the same to protect the innocent and/or completely moronic. I would also like to disclaim all warranties, express or limited, including, but not limited to, the implied warranties of merchantability and fitness for a particular purpose, just in case.

Further, please remember that my parents are not liars, and my mother was just joking when she made the comment "let's not go that far." All in good fun, blog-o-sphere. All in good fun.

The Rest of the Story...

My mouth has a tendency to get me in trouble. Like the one time I was in the middle of clocking out at closing time at Target and I just yelled out "I AM NOT A STUPID WHORE!" right in front of God and everybody because somebody commented on my newly highlighted hair. It made for a few good laughs...for days. Then there was the time when I was vice president of my sorority and I complained at a meeting about having to do homework AND try to conceal four hickeys AND deal with sisters getting arrested/whoring around at frat houses. I got hate mail under my door after that because "we are all SUPER busy and YOU wanted the job."

But guess what? This is my blog. So I'm going to get myself in trouble as I see fit. You guys ready for some mouth-dropping truth?

I thought you might be.

Mom, if you're reading this, don't hate me for spilling my guts. But it has to be said because I really suck at lying. And I'd rather just tell the truth so people don't gossip. And maybe 5 people total read my blog.

So this law school business? This "do I want to go back?" business. A complete and total ruse. The real story? They won't let me come back because my grades really suck. I wish I could be like "yeah man, I partied way too hard and didn't give a rat's a** anyway." The sad part is, I really tried. Like really. I briefed cases and took notes and studied hard. I just couldn't cut it.

It's okay. You guys can make fun of me, because, well, chances are, I've made fun of you at some point. It's cool. We're all human. It's just my turn to have a slice of humble pie.

And humbled I have been! Of course I'm sad! I thought this was what I was going to do. I'm terrified about my next move. Most of all, I'm embarrassed. I'm embarrassed I had to take that Memphis Law sticker off my car. And that I have to tell my grandmother I won't be drafting her last will and testament (or maybe that's a good thing? I can't tell...) And that my parents have to make up stuff when people ask about the big law school student. Ugh...

I just had to set the record straight, and maybe that wasn't the right way to do it. I hate that rumors are flying and nobody actually asks me what's going on. They just tiptoe around it and ask other people. I'd rather you, oh blog-o-sphere, hear it straight from the horse's mouth...whatever that means.

And we can all still be friends. And you can still talk about law school. And I'll still be living in Memphis.

And I'll find my way. Don't you worry about me.