A Surprisingly Sane Blog

I’ve had a really strange shift of interests ever since I learned of K’s death. I think it’s normal to re-prioritize and consciously decide to love your family a little more, take nothing for granted, and suddenly find a new religion. Tons of people do that, right? All the time, in fact. I didn’t, though. Not consciously, anyway. Yet two months later, I am finding drastic change happening that I didn’t notice brewing. However, in retrospect, it started during my grieving (which continues to hit at odd, unexpected moments).

I believe all of it is healthy change, and the reason I say that is because some of the choices have been extremely difficult, but the have made me value my life more. The easy choices aren’t always the best ones. Going back to school seems like an easy change, but it’s huge. I’m busier than ever, it’s a lot of money, it’s tough on the kids, and there’s nothing quite like throwing yourself into a challenge that will drastically affect your career at the ripe old age of thirty. I also realized just how plastic part of my life is and I have been so disgusted by all of it that I have completely lost the desire to be around it these days. That’s a major change, and a very hard choice that I have made and am in the early stages of implementing.

Then there are friends. Did you know that sometimes the best friends are the ones you meet online? I mean, of course there are a few coveted in-real-life people that I adore, but really, the majority of the time when I need support or just want to laugh along with a group of people, I turn to my online friends. Funny how that has happened with the invention of the internet. However, I am sick to freaking death of fake friends. I attract them like flies on shit. The ones who only call when they have a problem and need a shoulder to cry on, but turn their face the other way when I’m having a tough time. The ones who use me for my guest room and ignore me the whole time they stay. The ones who probably envy my married life with children and exclude me from the “fun stuff” and make plans and cancel on me last second even though I’ve made the effort to be responsible and find childcare. The list goes on and on and on. All the effort I’ve put in to planning get-togethers of various sorts, small parties, dates with friends, etc.; it’s all just a pile of shit because it’s never reciprocated. And if it is, there’s always a catch. I’m done. Some people are worth the effort. Some aren’t. In fact, I’m learning the ugly truth that most of the people in my immediate life really aren’t worth my time. I’ve gotten to this weird point where I’ve been blocking tons of people from my newsfeed and deleting people just because I don’t care anymore. I’ve never been that person. But I’m sick of shit. Ever since K died, I just kind of started seeing “friendships” and my importance in peoples’ lives for what they really are. When you lose a friend to a tragic, untimely death, even if you weren’t close, it makes you reevaluate not what people mean to you, but what you probably mean to them. So many people are really awful friends.

I’d be sad if I didn’t find strange consolation in my recent choices. I don’t feel good about them necessarily, but I feel no real loss because, dammit, how the hell can you lose friendship that wasn’t really there to begin with? How is saying goodbye to one career that you never really wanted as your full-time job a bad thing when I am so excited about my post-bacc program at UW and all the promises the path holds? How about the fact that I’m meeting people- smart, sassy people!- that I really enjoy talking to in class? It’s wonderful! Fresh faces, quick minds. It’s been great.

Sometimes I regret my choice of moving to Seattle. Not because I liked Tucson- hell, really, I hated living there and would never want to live there again- but because I just miss my family so much. But James despised his job in Tucson, and I nearly divorced him because he was so damn miserable to live with when he was working at his last company. He loves his job here, and he’s much happier. As a result of this job, we have a nicer house, live in a fabulous city, and we have so many new opportunities. It’s bittersweet. Some days I think of leaving him to be happy in his new life and going home to be with my family. Not planning, just thoughts. Odd how my mind goes there.

Even more odd how I’ve just seemed to long stop caring about the parts of my life and the people involved that was all so important at one time. Maybe none of it was all that real to start with.

Current Mood: Bored

I got locked in a fire escape on Saturday.

I know, you’re wondering if I did it on purpose, huh. Okay, probably not, but the answer to that is HELLZ NO! But it’s okay if you’re laughing at me because my rescuer doubled over in laughter and told me I made her weekend, which made me laugh just as hard at the ridiculousness of my situation.

Internet, meet the Gallagher Law Library:

It was cold and gloomy and windy on Saturday morning when I drove over to UW to work on a library assignment for my research and legal writing class. Due to game-day traffic and my inability to drive a straight line sober, I was almost a half-hour late meeting my study partner at Gallagher. It didn’t help that the freaking library looks nothing what I stereotypically expected a Law Library to resemble and I must have walked by it twice before relief washed over me when my study partner was waiting outside the building, laughing at my ridiculousness.

Working on the assignment was great. Interesting research, a lot of great discussion. Chatting about loopholes and oddities in the homework with other classmates; I am a student again, and there is nothing more comfortable for me than wearing a backpack full of books and highlighters and choosing a seat near the front of a classroom where I can see the board if I forget my glasses. I was in my element.

But then, IT happened. After a couple of hours, I packed up my papers, said goodbye, and headed for the library exit. I passed the library doors into a short hallway with several doors. Men’s room. Women’s room. Staff. Unmarked. Stairway headed up. Locker room for law students only, water faucet. Oh yes, EXIT clearly marked on a door. Nothing but exit, and it was a benign enough looking door. There it is.

I pushed it open, walked through, and realized just as the door closed behind me that I was in the wrong part of the building. I was in this weird triangular-like corner of the building, very industrial, with tons of concrete stairs headed up toward the great dark abyss where I’m certain cruel lawyers with jagged teeth and red eyes stood at the pearly gates ready to convict me of my evil wrongdoings.

Shit.

I turned to open the door behind me. Locked.

Oh shit.

I tried not to panic and headed up the stairs to try the floor on the next door. Locked. The next flight up was blocked with death threats to those who pass and a small gate, which I could easy step over but was too afraid. I ran down the flights of stairs, which landed me at another off-limits area. I wasn’t authorized personnel! What if they sent security after me and I ended up with a hand groping for my crimes of entering an UNMARKED FIRE ESCAPE!?

At this point, I was feeling a little light-headed. I don’t do tight spaces well. I headed over to the original door and tried it again. It wouldn’t open, but I heard voices (not the kind in my head)! Relieved, I knocked boldly a few times. Fuck looking like a moron. I was stuck in a fire escape wearing a backpack and a dorky beanie on my head without a way out except setting off alarms.

No one came to my rescue. I considered climbing the wall and busting a window to escape, but I didn’t need VANDALISM stamped into my pristine permanent record.

This is the moment where I started laughing. I think.

I pulled out my cell phone and found a spot nearby with one bar of reception and texted my study-buddy. When I didn’t hear back, I called her, then proceeded to knock on the door until she found where I was trapped.

I don’t think two people have ever laughed so hard in a library. Much less a law library.

HiworldI’mTamraandI’mamoron…

I made it out alive and managed to get home safely. And I’m keeping my fingers crossed that this was my one and only encounter with getting on Gallagher’s bad side.

Current Mood: Alarmed & Happy

Besides keeping up with the grueling pace of analyzing statues and writing briefs, the number one thing I’ve learned after two weeks of college is something I completely missed during my undergrad years.

People ask questions just to try to make themselves sound smart and to suck up to the teacher. Really. They do.

I’m not one of those people because I don’t freaking care whether or not I sound smart. That, and I think those people asking stupid questions like that are making the rest of the class *vom* in their mouths a little.

So, how do I get noticed? Oh, you know, typical bratty Tamra starts cracking up in the front row where she sits with Ralph, her laptop, and her studious maroon-framed glasses because Prof. Goofy Guy Attorney writes something on the board then wipes his fingers on this wad of wet paper towel.

Professor notices,”What?” Smile.

“Uh, you know, they kinda’ make those little chalk holders so you don’t actually have to touch the chalk. You’ve seen those, right? I used to use them when I was a teacher because I couldn’t stand the way chalk felt.”

“No! I just don’t like getting chalk all over my clothes.”

“Sure. It’s okay. We all have our quirks.”

“You don’t like chalk? Why not?”

“It’s dry and powdery and chalky and it feels gross. Kind of like why you’re wiping your fingers on a wet hanky and why you don’t want it on your clothes, which could easily be remedied if you went to a teacher supply store and came back with one of those chalk holder things.”

“It feels dry and powdery and chalky? That’s weird!”

“Yeah, like I said, we all have our quirks. It’s okay to admit them.”

Prof. Goofy Guy cracks up then says, “Tamra, right?”

Oh yeah. I have a reputation already. Didn’t take long.

I think I would like me as a student if I were the teacher. I always have a witty remark for everything, but I’m quiet during lectures and always turn my work in on time. I don’t ask stupid “I’z smart!” questions, and I don’t care if the other students think I’m smart.

Though I do believe “smart ass” is one of those modifiers that I’ve heard more than once in my life.

Current Mood: Cool

Today marks an epic moment in my life: The First Day Of School.

And by “the first day of school”, I don’t mean April’s, which was yesterday:

I mean mine.

And by ‘mine’, I mean I have a date with a classroom at the University of Washington this evening.

Aren’t you beyond excited about those Sharpie Highlighters and colorful Pilot Gel Pens? I know! Me too! (Pay no attention to the school supplies addict behind the screen… it’s a perfectly healthy addiction, okay?)

However, my old college backpack from my early twenties has certainly seen better days:

Well, you wouldn’t be able to tell from that picture because I’m a nice photographer that shoots with as much natural lighting as possible when it come down to school supplies still-life, which of course made my backpack’s mugshot look like a glamour shot. *sigh*… You can’t see all the frayed edges, but you can see some of the post-washing-machine stains at least.

I guess I could waste some cash on a fancy schmancy new backpack, but I kind of like my old sky blue one… and while I’m not a superstitious person, maybe some of my old straight-A college scores are like hidden magic woven through the seams, ready to jump out and assist me at the first utterance of legal jargon that I can’t comprehend.

Nope, not Law School like I wanted, but it’s the next best thing: Paralegal Studies. It was the best happy-medium possible. I wanted to go to Law School, but we just couldn’t make it work right now. Three grueling years, hundreds of thousands of dollars, and zero time off really wasn’t something that we can make work right now with two little kids. Could I do it? Absolutely. It’s nothing I can’t excel at. School is one of those things that I freaking ROCK at… maybe the only thing I’m all that good at… and I was really excited to study for the LSAT. But before I took it, we realized that Law School is not the healthiest choice for our family. I’m not going to lie- I was pretty upset. Several months worth of upset. The better part of a year upset. Especially since I have been applying for jobs that would utilize my Journalism/German/Elementary Education degrees in the Seattle area for two years in fruitless pursuit of employment.

There’s nothing quite like unemployment and your big hopes for Law School being flushed into the pool of unreachable goals to make you feel like a worthless, bipolar, shitty-ass mom and wife, and a failure at life. Talk about depressing.

So just a little over a week ago, I stumbled across the Paralegal Studies program at UW (pronounced U-dub for you out-of-towners) and was excited after looking at the description. James liked it, too. I applied. Less than 48 hours later, I got an email saying I was accepted and that classes started less than a week away.

Yup, that takes us to today. Today I will drive downtown with the kids to pick James up from work, who will then drive north to drop me off at the UW campus. My ass will grow numb during the three hours of class, and I’ll notice the annoying twitch of the dude sitting two rows over. After class I have to find the bus, which will take me several miles to the lightrail station… then I’ll have to sneak across the street and up the stairs to catch the train, where I’m sure the local crazy will inevitably find me and torture me for the next several miles (they always do… I have a stamp on my forehead that says, “Talk crazy to me!”) while I politely smile and remind myself that Jesus Love Them Too, and So Should I… but fuck, this is awkward…

And finally, exhausted, James will quickly swing by the lightrail station, which is very close to our house, and pick me up since walking around in a big city at night by yourself when you’re kind of a small, pasty white girl really isn’t a safe idea…

And did I mention that I’m so excited I can hardly contain myself?

Current Mood: Esctatic