I did not begin again I just began.
—Gertrude Stein, Composition as Explanation, 1926
This blog is so rusty from disuse that it sounds like metal on metal just to get it started. So rusty, that it took me 3 hours to find my password into the thing.
I am now done with my first year of law school (I am pretending that the 7 day intensive writing competition for law review—that begins today—is not part of the first year).
While those words (“I am done with my first year of law school”) may signify a discrete event in time to you, to me they are nothing short of a magic talisman that enables me to leave this very weird, exhausting world I have been living in. I am quite beyond myself to hear them.
They represent an end to a world without a living room, television, food in a pantry, self-esteem, or a proper book collection. They mean the hours I keep will only be slightly out of proportion with the hours I sleep. They institute a new time and place where I can once again read (and write) for personal edification.
I originally started the blog thinking it would be my outlet for the stress, confusion, and self-doubt bound to be found in law school. It wasn’t. I have learned that my approach to blogging is odd and I seem to lack the ability to felicitously recount a day’s events without getting all “meta” about everything. I have explained to a few friends that my dislike of networking events is similar to my dislike of journaling. I am in a room in which, business cards in hand, I have a predefined role: To chit chat with other people while we sanguinely ignore the fact that what we are doing could more efficiently be accomplished by standing in two opposing lines (think the “good game” line configuration in t-ball) and just hand a business card to every person we slap hands with.
The dynamic of the chit-chat is too much like pre-dating, except instead of a phone number, the object of the night is to proffer and receive the business card. It is hard to tell when a connection has been made:
Should I keep talking to her about ships or should I ask about her company’s benefits package? Would that be too forward? Does she want me to ask her about benefits so that she doesn’t have to bring it up? Why would she still be yammering on about mizenmasts if she wanted to talk benefits? Maybe she’s still talking about the America’s Cup in the hopes that I steer the conversation to something more business related? Or is she hoping I’ll shake hands and go away? Can I go in for the card palm-plant now, or would that be too abrupt and embarrass her? If we keep on this subject will she find me too boring? I don’t know much about ships … if we keep at it I’ll have to ask her where the terms port and starboard come from. I think port is from French. Isn’t porte “left” in French? Or is it door? If it is door, then why would you call that part of the boat “door”? Or is it different in France? What do they call the port side in France? I doubt they call it “door” … DAMNIT! She just mentioned the benefits package! What did she say? Wait, is she talking about this job or another job? Why would she tell me about another job? Did she just gulp the last of her drink? SHE’S WALKING AWAY!!! Give her your card! Giver her your card!
Of course, this is all complicated by the fact that in law school we have no business cards.
A blog is the same thing for me. I don’t know what you want to read, so I just start randomly typing things looking for a sign of recognition from you … Of course you see the obvious problem in that strategy. I’m sure you would tell me “Just write about what you want to tell me.” However (a word I learned this year), I don’t want to tell you anything. Or rather, I don’t not want to tell you anything. Which is to say, nothing is private, nothing is off limits … Excepting that which my girlfriend deems private and off limits.
I don’t write for me. A lot of people don’t understand this. If I wanted to do something for me, I would be watching TV. Or reading a book. Or, perhaps, drinking an organic wheat beer in the Colorado highlands.
If no one was reading it, I for sure wouldn’t be blogging.
So, we haven’t talked in 8 months. Whatcha wanna know? There is a comment box if you would like to ask any specifics.