Funny thing happened today.

Rank comes out in exactly one week. 1st semester down. and this girl is #1 baby!

IHOP

too much chaos... in conjunction with too much minimum wage.

A homeless man bought me a cup of coffee...

I start with this because it is weird. Seems counter intuitive. To qualify, he used a stamp card that was worth a free cup of coffee... but whatever. still weird.

Day after Thanksgiving, Black Friday as it were. This girl was still awake from last night... I had every intention of going to Pep Boys to get my color TomTom for $70 at 5 am. Then I thought to check Best Buy. It is right around the corner from my house. 5 am was doable. Luckily i thought to check the website. Bought that bad boy of a better GPS online. It will take a little while to get here... but at least I didn't get mowed over by the crazy women.

I had a point. I lost it. Free coffee = good.

1st Fat finger, next fat arm... now... fat FACE.

i am now allergic to a certain bug bite. which bug? who knows.

what happens? my face swells up like hitch.

it's not funny.

except that at first i thought it was sinus, maybe allergies. got some benedryl and slept for eight hours. went to moms... she made me a sock compress with rice in it (apparently you microwave this and it holds heat better).

it helped not at all. woke up at 2 this morning took all kinds of sinus medicine and allergy meds. woke up this morning swelling moved from right eye to whole right side of face, across chin... disgusting.

i am quasi modo over here.

went back to pharmacy who urged me to after hours clinic. which was expensive (and I have health insurance!). got steroid shot, it is going down.

not making it to study group tonight. so my study partner (who drives in from N.O. everyday for class and 1 day during weekend to study w/me) decides not to go either. It is terribly sweet.

Everyone has a group to bounce stuff off of, but you each have your 1 person whom you are most honest and most attached too. Mine is Roo. or roo roo. because his fraternity thinks it is cool to bark at people. The 1st time he did this, we were studying under a tree in front of the law center. a girl with posters of her sorority passed by and he ACTUALLY BARKED. I was mortified!

He explains this is what they do. and some women (including this girl) respond well to it. He actually got a phone number for this. it was so bizarre.

So he offers his assistance, asks if i need anything, and will not come into town b/c i do not want to go into public. tomorrow i am working from home. i will make it to class in a michael jackson scarf, so help me.

How about that presidential debate?

c'mon it's funny.

don't watch grey's anatomy while drinking wine.

what if the dream killer was my person. what if, i have no person. what if i have lived my life in such a way that i am going to be alone.

so says the wine.

Il dificil no c'est impossible.

Remember that day that I thought i might be semi intelligent? that i loved what i did professionally and wanted nothing else but law school academically. asked my company to pay for it and thought i could do both. and well.

Everything works in theory.

The reality is that i sleep an average of 4 hours a night. read every free second of my day. record lectures and hide earbuds in my ears in pointless meetings to get so much information into my head. Crim law professor who I am chasing down to tell me what is wrong with my writing FOR HIM is committed to the idea of subtly letting me know that he is the holy grail and i am a nothing.

In fact, he calls me Rep. As in class rep. As in, he has decided that he will not speak to the 65 people in my class... he will speak to me. and i will disseminate to my class. this is the privileged position? no. though he calls everyone else "you".

best part? he knows all of our names.

He says "write my hypos... come to my office... let's talk. if you can't write these things in your sleep the way i want, you will not pass". like every other class in law school, your grade is what you make on the final. yay.

so i leave work at 4 everyday... get to school 430/445. class is at 6. Monday i got the distinct pleasure of sitting outside of his office until 6. on the off chance he would see me. nope.

repeat tuesday. wednesday, same thing. Thursday, same thing.

nice.

because i don't have 4 other classes. and a full time job.

Took a week off of this particular humiliation... this past monday, came back to it. Happened to catch in an elevator. this man is going to talk to me. i will follow you. i will sing outside of your office. YOU WILL TALK TO ME! because this has to work and not doing well is not an option. and my rockstar might have been kicking in.

So he does see me. takes my paper and does not want to talk about it. He wants to talk about Time magazine. where he has written. how important writing is. I am a nerd. I took notes on this. (what?! he FINALLY saw me!) for forty minutes. what took 2 minutes... was him telling me to take out 1 sentence and move some things around. Everything he wants is there... but if i gave it to him like that it would be a C.

nice. i chose this. this seemed like a good idea to me.

Back to the title line. The difficult is not the impossible.

True to form

Mom got power back today. My house? still nothing. Cat is not amused. With the start of law school and Hurricane Gustav, there has been much stress, drama and argh situations.

and true to form... here he comes.

Dream Killer.

Who offers you (or me) everything you need to make it all better. Wow that makes him sound like a drug dealer... I assure you he is not.

I saw him at school as I was about to walk into Legal Research. I made it through my 1st week. I think I might be functionally retarded. That is about how great it was.

Dream Killer floats by to inquire about my start... like we are buddy pals. like you did not take every shot you had left to take. Like you did not seek to make me feel like I could never do anything in life.

I digress.

I scurry away in true awkward fashion. He left a note on my car. (little stalker-ish. I'm just saying. it is) blah blah he was crazy about me... blah blah he acted like a jerk because he does not think... blah blah.

then he leave message (because he is still blocked on my cell... email... and does not have the number to the blackberry) he has books, notes, outlines and supplements that i can have. all right here. just take it. it will make it all better.

I got spooked. I took it. stupid. stupid.... but it is helping...

on to Hurricane. We had trees uprooted, roof damage, no power for a week... thinking it could be weeks until we get it back... here he is: "I know you didn't remember to get cash, I pulled out $50 for you... just to hold you for a min... and i got feet (Doritos Cool Ranch) and skittles for you because i know how much you like them"

fast forward. His awesome amazing dad who wrote one of my letters of rec has cancer. It has been in and out of remission for years. He is in chemo again. He does not look good. In fact he is going to die.

Dream Killer suggests I go by the house. The company I work for has tankers of gas especially for us. I offer this humble gesture to the dad. Because he is a humble greatness. because when he is gone the world will feel a loss. Because he is the reason I do not have a DWI, because because because.

Today he struggles against himself and takes me up on it. Before I get there, power is restored. Dream Killer calls to tell me to still come over... for pizza with the fam.

No.

this is the line.

Every time that the world rages and storms that is his in. That is how he makes temporary amends so we can make it through this situation... and just when you think everything is ok.... BAM! $hit storm! and he is quick to tell me that his family is not mine. and I can just forget that letter from his dad. and my mother never loved me and i have no worth in this world.

no more.

My gesture was small to be sure. but it was for the dad. and not for the killer of my dreams. True to form he followed his M.O.

Contra-mine I am not going back. We are not OK and I will not do this to myself ever again.

Bib #318! This girl is a RocketChick!

My legs were on fire. The 12 miles bike was longer than it should have been... my swim was sloppy and I had to walk (or wobble) the 1st almost mile of the run. i can't wait to do it again.

at the end of the day... I finished 16th in my division... and i beat a hell of a lot of other people, I have to be happy about that. I am an athlete. I am a Tri-Athlete. i am a Rocket chick.

I need water.

"I Can't Believe I Just Did That!"

I can't believe I just read that.

The title is a book that occupied me on the 16 hours in a car to Atlanta, then Athens, then back to Atlanta and finally home.

Btw... Kias are god awful! I hate those things. They make as much sense to me as Saturn cars. Why? for what reason. Also I fully recognize that I am an evil capitalist that believes in the roomy goodness of an SUV.

Back to book and will have to finish post later.

I can see the value in the 1st portion of this as it relates to Career Development for the yuppies. It lends itself to the awesome premise of a presentation I am giving next month in Mass. (and they are flying me up for 1 day to talk for 45 min... I am floored. and biding my time till i rub it in Bambi's face)

My issue comes in that you have to take this and all "self-help" books with a grain of salt. Why? because the author's bias is all over it. He was a woose as a kid and you can tell. He is probably a homo-sexual. i say this not negatively but as a matter of fact... and through his writing you can tell.

The value in this book? deconstructing the power struggle. it is interesting. more later.

I post partially to force myself to update.

UPDATE: i lost my train of thought. i also lost my credit card apparently. Had lunch on Thursday w/JB. Waitress gave me someone else's card. I had no idea. Spent the weekend in ATL... used it all over the place... suddenly it was declined at a gas station... called today b/c for the life of me I could not figure out what was wrong... now all of the charges will be taken care of by VISA. Don't know what to make of all that.

fat finger the sequel: fat arm... the explanation

Circa April... was the HUGE company picnic. Mom came to get sick on cotton candy, popcorn and coke... grams came so i could beat her at basketball... (the pic they sent me of her is precious. for privacy reasons I am not posting. email me... I'll show you how cute she is)...

and i got put on a volley ball team for the tournament. because from weight training and swimming... i have the girl equivalent to guns. (these are so going away! people notice and i am getting self conscious. the definition is not bad... but I'm getting hit on by lesbians... it's kind of scary) thus i look like an athlete. SURELY i know what to do with a volley.

Thing is, i do not.

I have not touched a volley ball since like 6th grade. I did ballet. I did dance team. I didn't have to DO P.E. with the ruffians. ick.

so i got put on a team that has to play against the COO and his kids. Oh there is some good news there. Get ready for the good ol' college try. the boys on my team were SERIOUS about this. I'm not sure why i was there. The ball would come at me an in true girl form... i ran in the opposite direction in my pink shorts while the boys tried to kill the ball. it was madness...

until i tried to hit the ball. and the last 3 fingers on my right hand began to swell. it was so painful. now my pinkie is still deformed. You think i am kidding... i am not.

Mom's sage medical advice? "Honey stick your hand in a cup of ice... and don't be such a woose" yay mom. at least she made the sad face as she said it and brought me juice :)

hence we begot fat finger... on to the sequel...

2 weeks ago running suicide sprints... on a soccer field... with p-day and the real athletes he trains. football, soccer, track... the BOYS. I was working on my run times and intervals... i can use this.

one of the girls passed out from heat exhaustion... and my heat tried to pretend not to notice... her friends helped her up. the paramedics put her in a tent. the workout proceeded. In a case like that... unless you know the person LEAVE THEM ALONE. i'm sure she was just mortified. I know I would be.

How do I know? Because shortly thereafter, I was. (that's what she said).

Next set of sprints. run, turn at cone, run back, turn at further cone, run back, turn at... ok you get the drill.

except on the turn, i turned awkwardly and felt myself going down... i put my right arm behind me to catch myself... and felt my wrist pop.

I don't know what it says about me that i was MORTIFIED and EMBARRASSED because i fell in front of GOD AND EVERYBODY before I realized I was in pain.

I immediately tried to stand up but could not put pressure on my right hand. P-day scooped me up like a 2 year old which only made me hyper ventilate worse. It was so retarded. and I couldn't stop it.

My heat is around me and the boys have the frozen death stare and whisper "please don't cry, please don't cry" and i grit my teeth and say "I DO NOT CRY"

to which P-day is concerned and says "ok, don't cry... please breath because you are scaring me".

for my efforts i had a wrist and arm that were incredibly painful and required ice. i couldn't do anything because i only had one hand and even through ice, celebrex and lots of ibuprofen my hand screamed at the slightest movement.

obviously it is a lot better now. hence i am typing. it is funnier now.. but the whole thing has knocked me back weeks of training.

did i mention my 1st tri is this Saturday (yeah, THERE is some good news) and the whole damn thing has cost me so much money, i have to do it at this point.

i'm not ready, and i hate the way i look. that is vain. or maybe it just looks that way.

worst part? roommate bought me a mountain bike and put his $700 road bike at my disposal. i should probably get familiar with the damn thing, since i'm gonna do 12 miles on it.

rat bastard.