Life By Theresa By Randal

Opening a Blog Post with, “Nothing much really happened this week…” is a bad idea. As a reader, I certainly wouldn’t feel compelled to continue reading the post, which will probably detail the author’s grocery shopping trip, or something just as trivial. Of course, a talented author would be able to craft an entertaining tales set in a shopping center (ie. John Updike’s A&P, which was one of a series of stories we read in high school that seem deliberately chosen to depress teenagers with the thought of growing old), but I don’t think that caliber of writer would open with “Nothing much really happened this week…”

I was actually contemplating opening this post with the kind of phrase I just bemoaned, but upon further thought, I realized that that isn’t even true: lot happened to me this week. But even more happened to Theresa, so let us continue from her perspective:

“I had such a good week. First of all, it was my birthday on Saturday. I would tell you how old I am, but a real woman never discloses such information except to a select, inner circle. Randy, my sweet, sweet husband who is pretty much the best guy in the entire world—smart, funny and exceedingly handsome—threw me a surprise birthday party. Except that he told me it was happening that morning instead of having everyone jump out at me when I come home. So, I took him out shopping to buy a new party game. Even though he brought up the entirely reasonable idea that we didn’t need to spend $30 on a game because most parties are naturally enjoyable without formal entertainment, I was cute enough to convince him to purchase “Apples to Apples.” I love that game. And we did end up playing it--So there to him. Anyway, the party was really fun. Randy invited all of my new Virginia friends (or at least the ones who are still around this summer), and we just hung out for a few hours and ate cake (which Randy baked: he’s so sweet, and did I mention handsome?)

Next, I (finally) started my new job at the student health center. It is kind of slow but otherwise alright. The funniest part is that my boss is totally like Michael Scott from “The Office,” except that everyone at work actually likes him. I mean, he plays practical jokes (like Vaseline on the telephone receivers), sends e-mail forwards that he thinks are hilarious, but are really quite lame (such as one with a fat butt and farting noises), and likes to take the staff on retreats (the last one getting a little out of hand, such that the boss was actually tied up). So, I guess that makes me Pam. And Randy is Jim. Even though we don’t actually work in the same office, we do e-mail each other and sometime eat lunch together. Like on Friday, we were eating on the Lawn, and I was feeding this squirrel bits of my apple. But then it kept getting closer and closer, so I started to get a little worried. So then Randy threw the core at the squirrel and hit it right on the head! What ever happened to its animal instincts? After getting hit, the squirrel just stood there motionless for a little while, as if it forgot that it was even a squirrel. It must have thought it was a rock or something. But then it was like, 'I want that apple core. But rocks don’t like apples, squirrels do! I must be a squirrel.' So it grabbed the core and ran up a tree.

The next cool thing was we went to Buena Vista to visit Randy’s Grandparents. They invited us out for a birthday dinner and then went to a play, 'Kiss me Kate,' which is a musical based on The Taming of the Shrew. It was really fun."

So there you have it—“Life by Theresa,” by Randal. As for me, I’ve been working, handing out with Theresa (see above mentioned activities), and greatly enjoying not going to school. I am still doing research at the school, but the good part is, when it comes time to quit (usually 4:30, but really any time I choose), I just shut my books (or my computer, as it is) and put off my work until tomorrow. Then I got home and veg. Or hang out with our friends. It's the life, I’m telling you.

So, the Handsome Furs' album scored low 70s; I was pretty close.

Hmm. Title... Title... I've got to think of a title... Wait! Don't click that button, I still need to think of a title!

Like so many posts before this one, today’s entry is beginning without any subject on which to write immediately in mind. Have no worry though, after a full year of Law School, with unexpected cold-calls about reading that you did not do, I think that most students, myself included, gain at least some talent at making things up as you go.

I must begin by pointing out that I write this entry with a heavy heart: “Do You Trust Your Friends?” the compellation album I have been patiently waiting for for weeks just got a horrible review on Pitchfork! I dunno about you, but for me, this is awful. It is like waiting all month for Christmas, and then only receiving socks in your stoking! I just don’t know what to do. And the worse part is, I already have heard the album, and I liked it! I liked it! This means, of course, that I might be loosing it (it being my fragile sense of ‘coolness’ that is entirely based on my ability to accurately judge a new album’s quality before Pitchfork review it). I don’t know if I can go on. I just hope that my view of the Handsome Furs album will be accurate. (I’m thinking high 70s, maybe low 80s). If I’m wrong about that one, I think I’ll have to get myself a new hobby. Maybe knitting. Or Ukranian dancing.

Speaking of music, I wrote a few weeks ago that I predicted that we are on the cusp of a musical revolution, and that Indie is once again becoming mainstream. Now this may still be true, but I have, upon greater reflection and in my typical fashion, completely reversed my opinion on the matter. That’s right, I know am of the opinion that I don’t want popular music to improve. Instead, I am taking the stance church members are advised not to take: thank heaven that I am saved and let the rest of just go to… their overpriced, overcrowed and overcrappy pop concerts. As long as I know the good news about better musical actions, I don’t care if the rest of the world wallows in their pathetic state of horrible, horrible pop music. After all, they did it to themselves.

As for other news, my research-assisting job is going well. And by that I mean that I am certainly researching a lot. My first assignment was to outline the Confucian ethical philosophy’s perspective on genetically modified crops. Yeah, I thought that I was in Law School too. But don’t get my wrong, I love it. I pity all of those other RA who have to spend their days on Westlaw, looking up articles about substantive due process, or the dormant commerce clause. Oh, and by the way, Confucians don’t like GMOs… I think.

And speaking of bioethics, I have officially been accepted to the UVa Graduate School of Arts and Sciences in the Bioethics program, which means that I have condemned myself to another semester in Charlottesville. I guess “condemned” is a poor word choice, considering I love Charlottesville and I love bioethics. Really, its what I’ve wanted to do from the very beginning. I just kind of sidetracked into this whole Law thing because there happens to be jobs in this field. Go figure.

I know I Haven't Posted For A While - I've Been Writing Final Exams!

I know, I know, I haven’t been updating my blog. But hey, exams.

I have recently discovered that that one simple word is the ultimate excuse for anything during April or December. Exams. No explanation needed. The world knows that students throughout the world, and especially law students put their entire life on hold for the few weeks immediately proceeding those dreaded test days that result in glorifying victory or agonizing defeat. So, when the word “exam” is uttered by a student who has been neglecting one or another aspect of his life, all is forgiven.

“Didn’t you say that we were going to go out this week?”
“Exams.”
“Gotcha, say no more”

“You promised that you were going to feed my valuable and award-winning ant colony while I was gone, but you didn’t! Now they are all dead and dried out shells of their former selves! I hate you and everything you stand for!”
“Exams”
“Ha, ha. Ok buddy, no prob.”

So, yeah, the blog has been on hold, but were back and ready to rock you out of your comfortable summer existence with our familiar brand of self-important recounting of events that most of you are probably not really all that interested in. And as surprising as it seems, there has been some events during exam week.

First of all, Theresa and I, displaying where my true priorities lie, ditched studying last Wednesday and headed off to DC in our newly-repaired car to hit a concert by one of my personal favorite bands, Sunset Rubdown—a tight little outfit hailing from Montreal and headed by Spencer Krug, who has been prominently featured in as many as 5 amazing bands (Sunset Rubdown, Wolf Parade, Frog Eyes, Swan Lake, Destroyer) and may or not be my indie rock man crush. After an interesting drive through Washington on many of that fine city’s streets (many of them not on the original route) we arrived at the Rock and Roll Hotel, a tiny live club with KISS busts on the bar, and photos of former presidents with their faces replaced with those of classic rock icons framed on the wall, and a capacity of no more than 500. The concert was amazing: Sunset Rubdown performed at least as well as on their album, and I forget for at least that night that my professional destiny was going to be decided by a test booklet a few days hence.

Next, I turned 25. Yes, I am now a quarter of a century old, but hey, 25 is the new 18, or so I am told. I’ve read a number of articles about how 20 and 30 somethings are hanging on to their youth longer and longer these days, so hey, if there are a bunch of 35 year-olds out there playing video games all day like 15 year-olds, then I think that at 25 I should be able to act as young as at least 5. And I do. Ask Theresa. For my birthday, however, we spent the day in an amazingly un-5 year-old way: we went out to see Thomas Jefferson’s mansion at Moticello. My Grandparents invited us out for the day and we had a grand time. Ol’ Thomas, it seems, had a little of a youthful quality himself, in that in his dean he had a number of portraits hanging of men like Locke and the King of France, much in the same way that modern teens hang posters of their favorite Rock starts (David Bowie, in Theresa and my case.)

Then there were exams.

Finally, to round out the list of significant life events that have occurred in the last 14 days, Theresa and I celebrated our first wedding anniversary. For that, we took in dinner at a little Italian place on the downtown mall (we were sad to discovery that the place we originally planned on patronizing, La Cucina, had recently closed despite the rave reviews we have read on it.) But the restaurant we did eat at was also quite delightful, and we finished the meal with an amazingly flavorful plate of Gelato (I’d recommend the Mango—its like eating a real mango, freshly picked from a tree in Cuernava, except frozen and not nearly as messy. If you’ve ever eaten a fresh mango with your hands, you’d know what I mean.)

So yeah, since I last wrote, I am now 25 years old, have completed my first year at UVa Law and have been married for a full year. Theresa and I are no longer newly-weds, I guess. We’re not oldly weds, though—just weds.

I hope this finds you well
Sincerely
Your humble correspondent.