The Storm - January 24, 2008

Be aware.

I do not even know where to start for today. I am sworn to secrecy and have an obligation to keep the confidence of those around me, but today was unbelievable. I could not dream up stuff this good. The irony of life poured down from everywhere around me. It was a very intense and somewhat entertaining day - which is a horrible thing to say because the entertainment is at the expense of others.

I do hope that these persons will understand that anything in here is not a negative at all. It is all because I care. That, and because I feel I should share.

However, this is off-topic.

Back to the main story line of my life: Contracts class was canceled yet again. Praise the almighty for another 10:00 AM class that was forever transferred into history. I had planned on waking up at my regular time, as I really wanted to have a relaxing and leisure-filled morning. But hey, if we have learned anything, we all know that my greatest plans tend to fall through. Why would today be any different?

Today, in the context that we shall be continuing, started at midnight - literally. The events started early… and they never stopped.

I went to bed late after a traumatically heartbreaking night and conversation. The clock flashed a time no later than 2:30AM upon the close of my eyes and head-on-pillow. When they next opened, my eyes locked on to the red digits of my clock. Three-thirty in the morning. Doth mine eyes deceive me? My phone was ringing - and what a pleasure it was to have my alma mater's fight song blaring in my ear. Trust me, it may be the only time I haven't appreciated the glorious sound of tradition and fierce notes.

You see, I leave my phone on at all times. I figure at the early hours of the morning, for somebody to call and wake me up, either (a) they are desperately in need of my assistance (be it bail money, advice, or a suicidal friend needing a talking down from a tree *cough*); or (b) the caller has a death-wish. Either way, I can usually provide said assistance.

So, the call came in exactly one hour after my sleep-deprived body was lulled to sleep by the incessant swishing of the draining heating oil in the walls. "Delightful," I thought.

There was in fact a friend in need. Oh boy were they in need. We laugh now - or, at least I do - but it is/was a very serious event.

Anyhow, luckily the setback was not enough to keep me from the first class that was not cancelled today. It was my very favorite methods class. (Hopefully you have caught on to the deep-rooted hatred I have for this class.) I have invented an incredibly exciting game that is played only in that classroom. I call it the "Floor Game." The object of the game is to stare as hard as you can at the floor so that the professor of this idiotic class does not call on me. Even though I play this game all alone, I tend to lose more often than not. With each passing minute, my hatred and disdain for the class grows. Needless to say, when I hate doing something, I let it show. So, when she called on me today to answer the world's most rudimentary question (because she thinks I am dumb) not only did I become upset because I lost the Floor Game again, but the fact that I had to actively participate in the general stupidity of the class irked me to the max.

I do believe I gave the most outwardly sarcastic answer that was humanly possible under these circumstances. It wreaked of "do not even think of calling on me again. Ever." I do not know for whom I feel more sorry: this professor for having to teach this curriculum, or me for having to experience it. Oh life.

After class was over, I remitted myself to dealing with problems of my own that will be referred to as the Catastrophe of 2007-2008. While I planned and mapped out a solution to the event, I was forced to deal with the first of many side-effects of said event. Not a fun time.

After the deal was dealt, I shifted my weight, placed one foot in front of the other, and made my way to civil procedure. Nothing bad to say about this class other than the fact that it is just way too short to be of any use. We have it for one hour a day, two days per week. There is nothing that can be accomplished in such a short time.

When the class concluded, I gathered my belongings and gallivanted to my vehicle with quickness and fortitude. It is cold. In the car, I affixed my earbud - I am a safe driver - and called said friend with the aforementioned problem on my way home. I told her that we were going to go to our favorite restaurant so that we could get her mind off the major life problem she experienced. Dinner was dandy. This happens to be the very first place I ate dinner with my father when we arrived in New York. It is a special place that always makes my friend and I very happy.

Upon arriving at home, I parked the car and checked the mailbox. Score one for me. I was granted an interview with the Manhattan District Attorney for a paid summer position. This is fantastic news! Go team! (I needed good news.)

After dinner I received another call. Actually, I did not really receive the call, I missed the call and a voicemail was left. I checked the voicemail, and it was another person with whom I share close ties. Last time she left a voicemail for me like that, it was, perhaps, the worst news I have ever, in my life, received. It was bad news again. Turns out person two suffered the same tragedy as aforementioned person one. Seriously, though: what are the chances?

Life has a funny way of kicking the dead horse. Except, this horse was meagerly entertaining. Does that make me a bad person?

Just know this: I feel like today was a good one. Perhaps it feels good because of the Jerry Springer (it could be worse) syndrome.

Anyhow, everybody is safe. Nobody got hurt. And lessons are learned. There is a bright side to everything. Plus, my life is not boring.

Oh, and happy birthday, Mommy. Poor Mother.

What a day.