Is it really my birthday? Crap!!

So today is my birthday. I'm only a little in a funk. How did I wake up 41? I feel ripped off somehow, like I skipped a decade or so, which is really no one's fault but my own, since the fact of the matter is I simply don't remember a decade or so. Dammit, at least four beer companies owe me a birthday present, and I am looking for cards from several bars, who, although it has been several years, probably do remember me. Maybe they are waiting for cards from me though, to apologize. Oh wait, one burned down. But I had nothing to do with that. So it's three to whom I owe apologies.

I am going rock climbing today and went to the beach with my girlfriend yesterday. We went to a nice beach with very little public access or parking, giving us the impression they do not want poor people like us there, although people who have no business in bathing suits and farting children are apparently OK. They also provide no public bathrooms, another indication that if you cannot afford a beach house,you should get the fuck out. But fuck them, I figure if fish can pee in the ocean, it's good enough for me. One of these days I will have my own beach house. I don't know about the name though, which appears to be important, given the crap on the signs at almost every beach house I've ever seen. I think I may just name it "Stupid name" and be done with it. Why do they feel the need to come up with bad puns? "Gull friend". You are not a friend to gulls. You are an idiot. And so on. Perhaps having enough money to buy a beach house somehow makes you the type of person to paint their house pink and name it something stupid, and I can't count out the possibility that this will not happen to me. People change. I mean look at me now, a once productive semi-young person sitting around surfing the internet in her pajamas bitching about bullshit on a blog in cyber space like anyone cares what I think. Care, damn you!! Make my sloth worthwhile!!

Tune in next update for more blathering about some crap. Happy birthday to me!!

weirder by the day

I took my last exam last Thursday, a real ass of an expedition, and my first year of law school was suddenly over. It took a couple of days to come off of the adrenaline but then, suddenly, I was bloated, sleeping late and utterly without structure. My internship is so far doing independent research, which means that I've been sitting on the couch eating chips and salsa, surfing Westlaw and taking porn breaks. I mean news breaks. The cats have no idea what I am doing here, look at me strangely and go pee in the new garden we put in this weekend.

I have hardly been anywhere in four days and am starting to feel like some isolated mountain unabomber nut, only non violent. So far, anyway. Does sitting around by yourself too much make you start wondering how to build bombs? Is that the way it starts? "Hey, I wonder how to build a bomb? Is it hard? Could I use the fertilizer left over from the garden?" and then, after you start learning, maybe it just seems like it was all pointless if there is nothing to blow up, and then maybe you realize you never liked this or that bunch of assholes anyway. Does it happen that way? Suddenly, you find yourself dressing in camoflauge, which looks good on absolutely no one, and not caring that you look silly in your army surplus suit, putting your homemade bomb in some building. Does a person like that think, "You know, I should go buy a pair of Levi's and just go get some coffee, maybe get laid, make some friends, play Bingo or something.Or see a movie. I wonder what is going on at the movies? Maybe a nice romantic comedy." But then when they think about romantic comedies maybe they get angry all over again, because my God what a stupid genre, and want to plant the bomb after all, but then they remember hearing that something cool was coming out, and decide to go to the movies after all. I hope that happens. I don't want to be that poor unsuspecting asshole someday watching thier butt fly north and having some mundane last thought, as I suspect people do, such as "Oh, and I never did use that Charmin coupon."

I should call someone. My girlfriend comes home so tired from work lately I end up entertaining myself. Hence the porn. I mean the news. We got a truckload of compost from the dump this weekend, put in the garden, then it rained and made a 1/3 truckload of mud, the rest of which I shoveled out today thinking "well, how different is shoveling shit from law school, really?" Then the truck got stuck because the backyard is mostly hill above the garden and probably also because it rained for two days. My girlfriend says the ground needs to dry out more. I'm not sure. At any rate, here I am, surfing the internet for porn, I mean news, spending all day wandering around the house alone, waiting for a tired girlfriend, wondering what the unabomber types think, with a 1983 Ford truck stuck in the mud in the backyard and a one-eyed cat pissing in the new garden. It's been one week since school let out. It's going to be a very strange summer.