A Year Gone and Yet to Be Remembered

It really has been 356 days since the last post. It turns out that law school isn't as funny as you might think. It's kind of funny, but in that "we laugh at nerdy things" way. For example, one day class was being periodically interrupted by the familiar sounds of sawing and hammering. The professor finally stopped his lecture and said, "What is that noise?" One of the students said, "I think someone's doing some construction." We all laughed at him. That's funny stuff, right? Only in law school.

You see, 68 percent of law school is proving that you are smarter than the person next to you. It's the way the grades are given, it's the way friends are made, it's the way jobs interviews are claimed. When this poor student sincerely suggested that there was construction going on, everyone laughed because that was so obvious that only someone at the bottom of the class would suggest it. And yes, the professor laughed too.

Speaking of bottom of the class, that is where I have fallen into a comfortable pillow of mediocrity. It feels like being in one of those huge love sacks that has a pin in it, and every time you are getting comfortable, it sticks you right in the buttinski. Or the back of the neck. Or in the eyes. Luckily, I have been developing callouses on the butt and on the back of the neck and on my eyes, so I can still enjoy that big sack of ease.

The point is that all these eye callouses have made it harder to see how many funny things are going on every day. So I have recommitted myself to recognizing the ironic, the sarcastic, the stupid, the hypocritical, the hilarious, and the droll in order to share it with those very few who dare to start reading my blog again.

Most of my roommate Frazzle B's friends from ballroom dance have met me several times. None of them ever remembers having met me. It gets annoying. The quintessential example of this phenomenon occurred on Sunday. Frazzle B and I went to a regional conference for church and sat with his dance friends and I met one of them (for the fourth or fifth time). That night we went to a party and that same guy looked me in the eyes, shook my hand and introduced himself. I told him my name and he looked at me a little harder and said, "Limon . . . from . . . today?" He was obviously embarrassed, especially when Bard B, my other roommate, told him that they had met twice before, and I informed him that we had met six times or so. It's a wonder that people like that can manage in the world.

(PS-If I have ever forgotten your name or having met you, I apologize. I'm sure I had a good reason that this other guy didn't.)