Apparently Dr "Bob"'s dad was some kind of spy. He had to take something like 5 buses to work so that people wouldn't follow him and his office was through a secret door in the back of a closet. Why am I not suprised...every story with this guy is crazier than the last!

Things I Learned/Discovered Today

Went to the Tegan & Sara concert last night. They are highschool friends of one of my best friends so we had backstage passes (very exciting, I've never done that before and it made me feel very A-list). They are absolutely lovely people and I am indebted to them for making a siginificant contribution to my last break-up recovery with their song, You Wouldn't Like Me (which, much to my delight, they played in the encore). But I digress. I got into a conversation with Sara about the radio program, This American Life, and I left promising to look up an episode called Act V. Cleaning my apartment was on my to-do list today and so I looked up the program and set to cleaning while listening. This particular episode features a reporter who spends 6 months at a maximum security prison in the States where a theatre director has created a program by which the inmates learn, rehearse and perform Shakespeare's Hamlet in 5 installments for an audience of fellow prisoners, family, and the Arts community which funds the program. To be clear, these are murderers, pedophiles, rapists, you name it, performing a play about murder and revenge. Nutshelling the play: Hamlet's dead father comes to him in a dream and says, "Avenge my death. Your uncle murdered me, married your mother and stole my kingdom and my crown." I cried, I cheered, I was awed, I was horrified, I was shocked. It was an incredible hour of programming that made me consider the penal system, social hierarchy, my own preconceived notions about education and convicts and all sorts of things. I am in love with this program. And then I discovered that iTunes offers This American Life as a free podcast subscription. Yeah!



Had my night class tonight. The class is taught by two boisterous, feisty lawyers. At the end of our weekly 3 hour class they always do a bit that they call Coaches Corner. The premise of this bit is that they will tell us things that they wished they knew as articling students and junior lawyers. Today the topic was: Tasks You Might Be Asked To Do As An Articling Student. And what followed was the laundry list of taking minutes at meetings and picking up drycleaning and ordering booze for the Friday afternoon impromtu parties. And then Dr. "Bob" of previous posts raised his hand and asked the profs what the best way to handle a certain delicate situation. What follows is an approximate recitation of the exchange between them, and an interesting example of what I learn in school.

Dr. Bob - What do you do when you are tasked with taking care of clients?

Prof - Well, that's definitely something that might happen.

Dr. Bob - I mean what do you do when your client is the big Texan who's just finished his big oil deal and now wants to have a good time? Like a really good time?? Like he wants drink, drugs and a hooker?

Prof (with a totally straight face) - Well there are certain ethical obligations that we have, and I would not recommend going out and procuring the drugs or the prostitute yourself. Hmm...but I imagine the big Texan is staying in a hotel? And probably a nice hotel, right? Well, what I would do is take Mr. Oilman back to his hotel, and, with some discretion, take him to the concierge and say, "Mr. Concierge, this is Mr. Oilman. Mr. Oilman is looking for some companionship tonight, do you think that might be something you might be able to help him out with?" Delegation is an important skill to learn...And now it's not your problem any more!

Ah so...lesson learned.

A Lesson Learned, a Mistake Repeated?

After my post on Saturday I went out to "the farm" (the one of past posts; the source of, at times, both great delight and my utter undoing; a location in which I always manage to try something new). This weekend was not to disappoint. New things I tried: 1) laying laminate click flooring, 2) using a table saw, 3) eating pig that had been roasted on a spit (they roasted the whole thing: ears, nose, eyes, feet and all), 4) drinking 50 proof Slovakian plum brandy, 5) kissing a Slovak (the one who provided the aforementioned plum brandy). I blame the last item on my farm-owning friend who has decided that the best way to get me to abandon my plan to move back to Vancouver and stay in Alberta is to marry me off to said Slovak and have me making babies with him before the year is out. She says this out loud, too...to just about anyone who will listen. It's not going to happen, I tell her. But he's pretty cute: tall, blond, sexy accent, handy...he taught me how to use a nail gun this weekend...it's not like I'm torturing myself to play with him a bit.

In what could prove to be a very bad decision, I have accepted an invitation to the fights on Friday night from my ex. He of the farm from last year; he of the still occasional inappropriate text message. I have decided that seeing as his presence in my life is unavoidable, I am determined to make it work...and in order to see that happen, I have begun to deal with his inappropriate comments and innuendo with violence or the threat of violence. He makes a suggestive comment and I slug him one in the gut. It worked this weekend, and by worked I mean it was a mutually agreeable resolution to the problem and by mutually agreeable I mean that I suspect it turns him on, but it makes me feel like my point is being made. We each win in our own ways. Anyways, I've totally digressed. There's a professional boxing event in town on friday and he bought a table and I've never watched professional boxing and so I accepted. The fact that the Slovak is going to be there (because they are friends, how cozy is that?) may or may not have influenced my acceptance of the invitation. For the record, my ex knows of the current situation with the Slovak...he was there this weekend. Also, for the record, I took the gold, slinky, must-be-taped-on, neck-line-down-to-the-navel shirt to the dry cleaner today. I've decided I don't feel like playing fair.

In true when-it-rains-it-pours fashion, the Slovak is not the only man in my life right now. There's also the - wait for it - 20 year old Newfie with the scar on his cheek, the kissable lips, and the amazingly sexy back, artfully covered in tattoos. He's the kind that's not really much for the words, but has this totally smouldering look in his eyes. But, that's right...he's 20. T-w-e-n-t-y. To add a little complication to the matter, I'm going to see Coach from last year on Saturday night. This was my rugby coach from last year that I had a fling with and, well, it's rugby season again...

And what of the lesson learned? One of my closest friends is going through a rough time with her boyfriend right now. Between me and those who read this, I think he is no where near good enough for her. I think he is a user and a cheater and a loser in general. She has helped him turn his life around in innumerable ways - not the least of which includes sinking thousands of dollars into fixing his house (not improving it, mind you, but things like paying off outstanding bills to the gas, phone and water company so they will resume service) and fixing his life (things like paying off his criminal AND family lawyers who a) helped him avoid conviction on criminal offences, and b) helped him deal with the totally crazy mother of his child who intentionally got pregnant while telling him she was on the pill. This woman is the most despicable, vile creature I have ever come across in my life. My opinion of her is formed almost entirely (I've only met her once for about 5 minutes) on the negligent and unfit way in which she parents her son which begins with the fact that her son has symptoms of Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder and degenerates from there.) This situation does not get better...I could go on for hours about the "virtues" which are this guy. But here's the problem: she sees potential in him and up until recently, I saw what she saw. I truly did. And then I came into a series of pieces of information that indicated he was cheating on her. And I believe the information to be true. After all that she has done for him... I firmly believe that if it wasn't for my friend he would be or would soon be incarcerated - this was the way his life was headed. After all she has done for him, he cheats on her. I am beside myself with anger and spite and vengefulness, on behalf of my friend. But the thing is that I remembered prior incidents with two of my friends and I remembered that this is her life and not mine. And my role is to be the friend and not the judge.

With deference to the lesson learned back in undergrad, I told her what I knew. Circumstantial, whatever, I told her what I knew. To do otherwise would have been a betrayal. But with deference to the lesson learned a few years ago, I gave her the information without judgment. I held my tongue about what I thought of him. To do otherwise would have alienated her. To do either of those things at a time when she needs a trustworthy confidant would have made me a bad friend. Because she is going to do what she is going to do. And she is going to believe what she is going to believe. And she is going to forgive what she is going to forgive. And one of two things is going to happen: they are going to stay together forever or she is going to get up the courage to leave him. And in either of those situations, the knowledge that I loathe him is not going to help her. Had I expressed my opinion, and then had she chosen to stay with him (which is a decision she would have made regardless of what I thought) my disapproval would have cut off the lines of communication between us. And she did decide to stay with him in this circumstance. But she needs me to stand by her, not in judgment of her...that is my role right now.

Atonement

One of the hardest things about getting back into blogging is introspection. I know I have these inward thoughts about the world but I've gotten out of the habit of noting them for future writing topics. So I sit down to write and all that comes to mind is, "Dear diary, this morning I had bran flakes for breakfast." Bleh.

Was out last night with some friends and committed a cardinal sin against one of my best friends. Blame it on the alchohol or my current pattern of recklessness or whatever but I remember doing it...even if no one else does. I spilled the beans; I spread the gossip; I told the secrets. I did it; I knew I was doing it; I was unable to refrain. Fortunately, after discretely poking around for information from the individual privy to my outburst, he has no recollection of this at all and so I am fairly certain there will be no reprocussions and the secret remains safe.

But this is troubling to me for several reasons. I admit that I like the gossip. I like to be the one in the know. I like to have more information that I can use however I like and I admit that this makes me a pretty good manipulator. However, I also am fiercely loyal to my friends. I love them like family and (at the risk of sounding dramatic) I would rather cut off my arm than betray a confidence. So what happened last night? Part of me thinks that even though my indiscretion was caught by the safety net of a vague statement, a loud bar, and a glaze of alcohol, I should confess my sin nevertheless. Does the consequence or lack of consequence change the fact that I betrayed my friend?? Wasn't my intention the most troublesome part?

I have been increasingly upset with this friend over the last few weeks. We haven't fought, this person hasn't done anything to me per se. But it's little things that I've overheard...things I have observed things that are making me wonder if this is the person I know and love. I think I'm frustrated because I don't feel entitled to bring this up. It really doesn't have anything to do with me. But I'm disappointed nevertheless. As irrational as this sounds, it sort of feels like betrayal. I suspect that my sin last night was an irrational strike at my friend. Totally ineffective and unfair because this person doesn't even know that I'm upset. And I think that regardless of the outcome of last night, the fact that I even went there necessitates a conversation.

Forbidden From Saying "No"

First of all...I have to say that I'd just about given up on the blogging thing. Summer was too long and too short all at the same time...too long stressing about jobs and life and the direction both were taking...and once everything had resolved itself and I could relax there was hardly any time left. I felt uninspired. And then back to school and utter chaos and I thought maybe I just wouldn't come back to this.

But then today, while cleaning my apartment, I discovered a Christmas gift from my sister. She had taken her favorites of my posts from the previous year and bound them with a foreward that she had written herself. So I curled up with a cup of tea and read them and they made me laugh and cry and remember and wish I could forget all at the same time. And I realized the original reasons that I started to write here - catharsis and memoir. And so I'm back.

School has started...and it will be my last EVER year of school. This is a bizarre feeling for me. I have completed programs, obtained a diploma and a degree. But in each of those experiences of finality, I never really felt like it was the end. I didn't go to my McGill graduation. Part of the reason was that I had just started a new job and an important program was rolling out that weekend...but had it really been important to me, I could have manipulated things. The real reasons for my ambivalence were 1) I truly felt like I did not deserve that degree due to my mediocre effort and performance, and 2) I knew, in my heart of hearts, that it would not be the end of my formal education.

But this time it is different. I joke with my family that I'm going to go to medical school next but the truth of the matter is that I have my career now. I have obtained an article with a fantastic firm, far beyond my wildest dreams, in Vancouver and I will (with a little bit of luck and barring anything catastrophic) be a lawyer. I suppose that I could go for a Masters in Law...but really, unless I want to be a professor...this is not a necessary nor important degree to get. And so this is it. This is my last year in school. The last of almost 20 full years. Wow...

In an effort to maximize my experience and have no regrets my new rule this year is to not say "no." If I am asked to participate, help out, volunteer, try something out...then I'm gonna do it. Already this has found me with an injury from a baseball tournament (a very large and colourful bruise from a line drive that hit me while pitching), on an executive board (of a wine tasting club no less), on an ice hockey team (first time skating without a toe pick...I'm very anxious about this) and with a commitment to man a BBQ on Friday (fingers crossed that no one gets food poisoning). I think it's shaping up to be a fantastic, albeit incredibly busy, year. Hopefully one not to forget!