Mondays and Pigs in Book Four: Ichi-no-Tani 2017

I will be writing this in short little spurts. My internet file storage is acting unreliably so I’ll plug away at this entry while waiting for things to load. Note: Some of this will make me seem like a pig. I reluctantly accept this judgment and apologize for my limitation.

https://www.facebook.com/22Words/videos/10154320865352606/

The weekend was all right. Friday was a massive snow day so Wife and I stayed home together. She shoveled. Now, the parts of me that say “You’re a man and you both have the day off… you should both shovel!” certainly shout. Buuuut… there’s back story. I had an Emergency Shovel in my trunk for if/when the car gets into ditches. It is not a “shovel the driveway” shovel. It isn’t even a “dig up dirt” shovel. However, Wife said that we should not and cannot buy another shovel because we’re going to be going back to Apartment living. For the same reason, she said we cannot get a snow blower. So… this is my “if you can do the driveway with that fuckin’ thing; be my guest!” Possibly rude and mean; but seriously… buying another shovel wouldn’t be the end of the world. If she’s worried about storing it… hey, she could put it in her car in case of emergencies. So… yeah. That is where we are with that. She wants to stay a One Shovel, Bad Shovel Family… then I’m going to work on not feeling so guilty for her doing the shoveling.

Saturday was mostly a nothing for the most part. More snow, more sleeping. Got a break, though, because one of the neighbors had a large snow plow and helped de-snow our driveway. Which was particularly good as I was going to DM to speak with my parents about possible places to live.

At the parents… well… some things change, some things don’t. My Dad is a Trump Supporter. And like my brother, my dad handles stress in inappropriate ways. Like… when my Mom and I were talking about why White Nationalism in the white house is awful… my dad joked about how there wouldn’t be a deportation problem if we just shot those people instead. When we were talking about Trump’s Cabinet Selections; Dad doubled down on how the US “shouldn’t be the only one working against climate change.” Except… we’re now one of the only places not working on climate change as even China is outdoing us in Environmental Protection Issues. After every “But Trump…” that was responded to with “But facts…” Dad just said, “Fine… if you think life was better under a black Muslim, I suppose I won’t change your mind.” To which I said: Dad… Obama lived his life more like a Christian than Donald Trump lives his. My dad actually agreed with that Statement and then said, “I never said either of them were Christian.” So… a man who lives his life closer to Christianity who stated he was Christian… “no, he’s a muslim!” And a man who, by your own admission, doesn’t live life close to Christianity who states he is a Christian… “he’s our guy!” The best rational understanding of how my Dad has gotten to this point (after speaking with Mom and Wife) is as follows: (1) Dad is drinking a lot more and thinking a lot less. (2) Dad has always seen language as hyperbolic. If you said “1500 people died on the Titanic,” Dad would shrug his shoulder and say it was no big deal… because 1500 instantly translates in his brain to around 750 or so. Thus, if you want him to understand that 1500 people actually died on the Titanic… you have to tell him that thousands died. Thus why when Trump says something, Dad instantly thinks it is hyperbolic language… despite the fact that it usually isn’t. (3) Dad grew up wealthy; with horribly low self esteem. He is currently a white man making middle/upper middle class and about to retire at 66. He believes homosexuality is the worst sin on earth, (yes, worse than murder) and believes that Transgendered people are “an abomination against God.” Frankly… Dad doesn’t care about the Constitution or about Human Rights. He cares about preserving his world view. Dad specifically said “This world needs to be more like 1963! Or even 1953! All these people saying ‘we can’t go backwards’… fuck ‘em. They don’t know how much better things were back then!”

Again… I love my father. I do. But this is a man who didn’t realize he wasn’t allowed to call black people “nigger.” Into his 40s. And he still says, “If black people can call each other nigger, than I can too.” This is a man who still says “Fags” in as offensive a way as possible. It is like that grandparent that you were awkward around… that’s my dad. Because his parents and his parents’ parents were those people. South of Grand, large house living, Mallory Archer types. So… I forgive him his bullshit… even when he is intentionally being as offensive as possible to try to upset other people… because he is my father. My values are not his values. We share a religion, a family history, and a love of family. But when it comes to Immigration, Religious Tolerance, Racial Tolerance, and Equal Rights? We split. Like it is the 1960s. So… you got your wish, Dad. Welcome to 1968!

Sunday was… something else.

I decided that, since I’ve never really explored the campus of Iowa State University (where I was expected to be) that it would behoove me to arrive considerably early. I was supposed to meet the Partners of my new firm at 1:00 at a specific place and time for a specific ISU Career Fair. I arrived on Campus at noon. I parked my car in a parking garage… every time I do something for this firm, I wind up in a parking garage. I now realize that parking is going to be an added terrible expense. I must look into getting a Parking Pass. They cost around $80 a month (I’ve been told) but that is still much better than the $8 a day I’ve paid so far.

I investigated the campus, discovered where I needed to be, then sat on my phone reading Prosebox and penning the things I did yesterday. During my sit, some students came up to me and asked if I could help them with their school project. They needed to interview people as to City/Rural perspectives and, though I told them I was not a student, I informed them I would be happy to help. After their little interview, it became close to 1:00 and I began to scan the area for my new/future bosses. They were not to be found, so I went down to the Hall where our Career Fair was to be. The entrance area was filled with Chinese Students. And only Chinese students. Most of the signs were in Chinese Script only. I felt truly out of place as Mandarin was zipping around the area. I kept my ears open for any recognizable Korean or Japanese… none to be found. Mandarin only. I became more nervous about my bosses not being present. About 10 minutes before the event was to begin, still no bosses. So I walk around the Meeting Hall trying to find anything that I can rationally guess is related to the new firm. Luckily, one of the Legal Assistants is setting up a banner with a picture of my new bosses and I walked over to introduce myself. The kid is energetic, dedicated… I think I’ll enjoy working with him. Right at the start time, the new bosses walk in and we get acquainted. I think I’ll like working for them; but I am still petrified about what will be expected of me and what I will need to learn. The partners are married to each other; one: a white male that stands at 6‘5 and speaks with a southern drawl betraying his Tennessee upbringing. The other; his wife: a tiny Asian woman who is younger than he or I; but is very much The One In Charge. She speaks English well; but speaks Mandarin even better and her Mandarin is on display in spades during the event.

Also on display throughout the event… Asian Women between the ages of 19 and 30 in professional ensembles. This is where I truly sound like a pig. I went from months in Tiny Town surrounded by women over 50 wearing comfy clothes to work. NOTHING wrong with that in its own right. But then I get to this event and I’m surrounded by young Asian girls in heels, nylons, pencil skirts, button up blouses.

For new readers… yes, I believe that Asian Women are among the most beautiful in all of creation. If I were to create my wife from scratch; she would be a petite Asian woman who grew up in Ireland (and retained an Irish Accent). For new readers… yes, I believe outfit says a lot about beauty. Professional outfits demonstrate an appreciation for what one’s appearance can say while simultaneously accepting that societal rules matter in certain situations. A woman who wears a Clubbing Outfit to a career fair has my pity, not my interest.

So… yeah. For three hours, I stood around talking to my new Boss while his wife (my other new boss) spoke Mandarin to a cadre of Chinese Students looking to intern at the firm. At one point, Female Boss introduced me and said, “Once he’s trained, we’ll have him run our Ames Office.” So… that is now official, I guess. If they like me and I do well… I’ll be running an office out of Ames. Something to aim for.

But yeah… driving back to Tiny Town, I admit… I was thinking to myself… days like that are certain to keep me on my diet and work out regimen. I mean… seriously… surrounded by beautiful Asian Women in Pencil Skirts and Heels? Why not just have a business card that says, “fat unattractive lǎo mĕi.”

When I got home; Wife had spent most of the day working on Mad Hatter’s Ball costume ideas. She said that trying not to look (in her words) “like a fat cow” was her inspiration for weight loss this month. Our weight loss issues are sad but interesting. I need to eat more regularly and more healthily… while exercising more regularly. Wife exercises often; but constantly snacks and eats. It is like… I don’t eat food and don’t workout… and remain heavy. She works out and eats all the time… and gets heavier. We’re both trying harder but… it is an interesting oppositional behavior pattern.

As for today? Monday?

I hit the work hard today so far! I got three cases completely finished and a few cases closer. I’m organizing my cases and providing running narratives in case any of my cases (criminal, juvenile, mental health) don’t get completed by the time I leave.

As much as I would (honestly) like to focus exclusively on getting cases finished today… I also really need to take care of a few lingering issues.

I need to write and hand in my resignation letter. I know Ran said I should hand it in two weeks before my last day but… that isn’t as far away as one might think. I mean, if my last day is going to be March 17th… then I need to submit my resignation FAST.

I need to contact our current land lords. I don’t anticipate any problems but it is best not to leave the issue hanging. They are so “laid back” and “relaxed” though that I hate doing any business with them. Seriously. I far prefer the cold sterility of rules and laws to the warm familiarity of agreements and handshakes. Far too much can go wrong otherwise.

And lastly… I have until March 10th to file my CLE Bar Report. Last week, I called the Bar and said that I could not access my account. I put in all the correct answers to all of the questions; the password site said they were all correct but… still wouldn’t give me access. They said IT would take care of it. I didn’t hear from anyone for three days. Finally, over the weekend IT e-mails me saying “It should be fixed.” It is now less fixed than before. So I e-mailed them back that the problem was not solved. And I’m getting panicky. I have 11 days to file this report now. The Bar Association expressly states “Extensions will not be given for any reason.” So… yeah. I may become that guy that spends the last hour of every day on the phone trying to get IT to let me in to my own Bar Account so I can actually do what I’m frigging supposed to be doing.

It would certainly be a REAL bad thing to go to my new firm and say, “Thanks for hiring me but I can’t actually accept the job anymore… or any job… as I am no longer licensed to practice law!”

Last updated February 27, 2017