Another Mega Update....

So, yeah. It's been a while since my last update...I'm a horrible blogger. I know. I know.

It's not like there haven't been things to talk about. I just haven't had/made time. But I'm here now. I'm I'm ready to talk, so why don't we all sit down, pop open a Cherry Coke Zero and chat a bit?

Cool?

*************

Thanksgiving. Yeah, let's start here. Dinah and I are on a holiday rotation between her parents and mine. This year her parents get Christmas and my mother gets Thanksgiving. We started doing this so we could spend holidays with each other instead of each of us retreating to our personal tribes. And we timed our rotation to coincide with her brother's so that her family could be all together. The rotation is generally a good thing and everyone's happy. Well, my Mom doesn't like years like this when she's not with us on Christmas, but she takes it pretty well.

This year, however, a couple things happened. The first is no big deal. Dinah's brother needed to be closer to home for Christmas, which meant not being able to make her parent's then. So, they went there for Thanksgiving. Which means we don't get to see our little niece until next year sometime. And it's not a big deal, because we'll be moving up to St. Paul sometime next year and get to see a whole lot more of them....but. The niece started sleeping in a big-girl bed. It feels like she's getting older quickly. But still, not a big deal.

The second, is potentially a bigger deal. I say potentially, because I'm still not clear on how I feel about everything. Let me start at the beginning.

I think I've mentioned that I've been emailing with my father and that's been going fine. Not well. Not bad, but you know. Fine. We don't really talk about much. I mention what's going on with me and Dinah and he mentions what's going on with him and his woman-friend. We steer away from talk about my mother and treating others like shit and it's mostly okay. It's not a sharing relationship, like the one we had before. But anyway.

At some point I mentioned to my sister that I thought dad would invite me to his place for Thanksgiving dinner and after much rigamarole where my dad changed plans from visiting my grandmother (his mom) that weekend and a tense negotiation with my brother who insisted on us scheduling a time for dinner when he could be there to "keep the peace" before realizing he could not make any time that would work for anyone else, my father did invite Dinah and I to join him, my sister and his woman-friend for a Thanksgiving dinner on the Saturday after the formal holiday.

Driving up to his new house, I was nervous. I felt something in the pit of my stomach, which was either nerves or the Burger King breakfast I made everyone stop for. I'm a stress-eater, what can you do? They have an old long-haired golden dog who was out in the yard playing in the leaves and as soon as we pulled up, it started barking. And suddenly, my father came out the front door, looking older and much more like his oldest brother than I remember noticing before. What hair he hasn't lost had gotten grayer and the hearing aid he now wears was a little more noticeable. And I noticed later that he really has to look at you for the hearing aid to get you fully.

I took a deep breath and got out of the car and my dad yelled at the now excited dog, "Stay!" I suddenly stood very still and my dad looked at me thinking I don't know what. And I said, "Me too?"

And with a giggle he said, "no you can come here." And we hugged. And the afternoon was pleasant. We caught up on everything, still staying away from tough topics, mostly and yeah, it was pleasant. I say we mostly avoided tough topics because sometimes things come up. Like we were talking about politics and my Dad was saying how he supported John Edwards (politician, not crazy guy) before he found out about the affair, and I just froze for a very noticable second. And then there was a moment when my sister brought up how my dad had "lost" his medals from Vietnamn, obviously from an earlier conversation they'd had. She was advising him of someone who was helping vets find medals that had been mislaid. Well. Funny story about how my dad "lost" his medals. He threw them away. In the garbage. It happened one day when I was 12, maybe. I was doing something important and my dad was calling me into the kitchen. I said just a minute and then he got frustrated and threw the medals into the garbage. I walked over to see the medals in the garbage and I felt bad. My dad was trying to share something really personal with me. Medals he'd won serving in Vietnamn. And I'd been too busy to come. So, I fished the medals out of the garbage and polished off the gunk that had gotten on them and pinned them to my denim jacket. And later he saw me. And yelled at me about how the war had been horrible and those medals meant he was good at killing people and that was not something he was proud of. And basically made me cry for trying to be proud of him. Not that I blame him for his feelings about the war, or for maybe changing his mind about the meaning of his medals or whater. And I can even understand him being harsh about it, because he had a hard time dealing with all of that, and I can't blame him. War is something I'll hopefully never have to deal with. But, it bothered me that he didn't remember. Can't say why for sure. Just sort of a creeping suspicion that in the years i've been away from my father he went and changed. Which, hey, happens.

Yeah, but the rest of the time was pleasant. Nice. My dad's woman-friend is a nice lady. No awkwardness with her. They live in a nice place, though they'll be moving to South Dakota to be closer to his family (my family, I guess) after he retires in February. They're doing well.

Which kind of pissed me off.

They seem happy and in love and that's great for them, but my mother is working all the time, in poor health, just to try to keep it together, and he gets to buy a new house and be happy and play Yahtzee with someone else. I know it's been like 5 years since the divorce and I wish she could get on her feet and date or move or something, but I didn't promice to spend the rest of my life taking care of her and growing old with her, just to bail and get an easier life. Part of me can't blame my father and I know it's beyond the point where he should have to apologize for being happy, but it still stings.

But really. There's nothing I can do. I just don't know if not doing anything is really okay with me. It's been a long tradition in my family of not bothering others with things that bother you. It's considered selfish, I think. You just have a fight about it (even if you pretend you're fighting about something else) and then you let it blow over. And that feels like what I'm doing here. But, I don't know what else there is. There's not talking to him or there's talking to him like he's just somebody I see around. I didn't much like not talking to him, so this is what he has to offer. Fine. Not great. Not satisfying. But fine.

******************

Anyhoo. So, as I posted, I got into law school. The first school was William Mitchell, one of my top choices. And they put together a nice financial aid package that I am not sure any other school will or will want to match. And I really liked the visit I took at William Mitchell last year (August?). So, I'm thinking that's where I will be in Mid-August next year.

Last week, I heard from St. Thomas Law, also in Minnesota. They let me in and offered a nice package, but not quite what Mitchell offered. Though, they did follow up with a Christmas card and a cool winter hat. In short, they're wooing me. And I have to say, I like being wooed. I mean, sure, the hat wasn't expensive and they probably give them to all the students admitted at this point, but it's a damn nice gesture.

So, if you're reading my blog William Mitchell, I appreciate your generous financial aid and I'm about 90% sure I'm ending up there, but you want to seal this deal now? T-shirt. Baseball hat. Hell, I would even go for a pen. Not a bic, though. I'm not some cheap harlot. I want to be romanced here. This pen better click. Or. You know, there will be no consequences.

But seriously. Law school. This is big. And scary.

Next year, I'll be studying for finals and thinking about what I'm gonna spend my summer. I mean. How did I get here. I floundered out of college for years, before I met Dinah and decided I needed to get my shit together. And even after that I got fired from a job and mysteriously let go from another. I went through a year of ego-racking shit and somehow now I'm going to a really good law school and they're telling me that a good chunk of the tuition is on them. They're saying, 'it's not just that we think you could go here, we want you to go here.' This summer of going to work with the Criminal Defense attorney and studying for the LSAT--it may well be the most perfect summer I've had. Not perfect from the standpoint of everything going well in my life, but perfect in that I, for some reason, ended up exactly where I needed to be, doing exactly what I needed to. And it got me on the path I wanted to be on.

Can't say I know how it worked out. Can't take much credit for it. It just kind of feels like I made some good choices and I worked hard, but sometimes it just feels like life just opened up and welcomed me back.

Sometimes it still feels like it's so far away, the sunny fall day when I'm walking home from law school, stressed about my Contracts class where the professor is so demanding, and the brief I have to have ready for presentation, and the reading, jesus, the reading. But, I hope when that day comes I remember the days I spent in the library with the LSAT prep books. I hope I remember that it doesn't matter if Frederick Douglas speaks before Lecretia Mott or that if light 2 is off that light 4 is not on, but if light 4 is not off, light 8 is on. I hope I remember how much I enjoyed watching and preparing for that murder trial. And how I had so much trouble getting a letter of recommendation from one of my writers before I just snapped an audible and got another one. And I hope I remember this past summer, because I just have this feeling is that this is the summer everything changed. For the better. And I had some hand in that.

Shit yeah, I did.

Though, I do have to mention how perfect it was for Bruce Springsteen to release his new album, "Working on a Dream" in time for this summer. You know how I wrote in the Gumshoe about there being a time when a song comes on the radio and it's the perfect song for that moment? Well, this song was perfect for my summer. Can't explain it, but it was exactly what I was feeling. And what I needed to hear to keep myself working on those stupid games and figuring out those stupid arguments. Not saying it wouldn't have happened without the song, but it sure did make it a lot easier. Thanks Bruce. (I'm not sure how Bruce might feel about knowing he helped create yet another lawyer in the world, but....)

*************************

This whole moving to go to law school means I'm now thinking of Chicago a little differently. I'm gonna leave this incredible, exciting, expensive, corrupt, stupid, lovable city. And there's so much I haven't done. I haven't eaten at Hot Doug's. I haven't been to the Tip Top Tap. I know barely anything about the South Side of Chicago (oh secretly segragated city).

I'm gonna miss this city. Warts and all.

I must say, if the Cubs ever do win the World Series, I will be happy not to be near the pent-up crazyiness of all that. Remember when the Cubs were gonna win last time, before they choked and blamed it all on a fan? Well, during that series, I was living about half a mile north of Wrigley and the feeling of anticipation was amazing. After the game before they choked, when it still looked like the Cubs could do it, I woke up to find a car crashed through the fence and abandoned in the front yard. It had the feeling of a freaky holiday.

*************************

Whoo...

Long time no update, but I just wanted to say, my first acceptance letter to law school came!
And I'm 32!
Good day.

LSAT

Three weeks are over. The LSAC guaranteed the LSAT scores by Monday, but were kind enough to send them out yesterday. I had heard rumors that this could happen, so I was obsessively checking my email all day at work. At this point, I was still calm. Something in the back of my head told me I would be doing this on Monday, so there was no point in getting too worked up about it now.

But, it wasn't until I got home and looked at the LSAC website that I saw they had changed the status of my score email date from the 19th (Monday) to 16th (Yesterday). And panic set in. Had I given them the wrong email address? Had I typed it wrong somewhere and my score was out in the unreal reality of the web bouncing around off of porn sites and hate group message boards, dirtying up my pretty score? Do I lose my score if I don't open it soon enough? Or do they just not want to tell me my score? Was it so bad they just want me to have one nice Friday night with my family before I find it out and join a cult or start liking teeny-bopper music and dressing in pastels?

These all seemed reasonable for a while, though I think I was outwardly calm while the wife and I did laundry. When the day started, I was so excited to get the laundry done (no, I really was), but now I wasn't folding my shirts with the passion. I was just thinking about my poor lost score.

Just before going to bed to read (10.30!), I decided to check one last time and hope the prodigal score came home tomorrow. Except this time my score was there. Right at the top of my email box next to a note my father had written about how he had been sick.* I stared for a second before I took control of the suddenly unwieldy mouse and opened it up.

And there, under some words that I still haven't really read was my score.

After the test I didn't feel great about it. I thought, "Okay, that was fine. Not great". And I talked myself into being happy about that. It would have been fine. I would end up going somewhere nice and getting a good financial aid package. Probably. But this score. It's not that many points are such a move up in the percentile, but it feels huge. Law school feels more assured now, which is a nice feeling that I expect to fade in the not too distant future as I think about shoring up my personal statement, drafting up my resume, explaining my speeding ticket and waiting for them to get back to me.

But. For now it's a win. A big win. And one that I really feel like I earned with the many hours of time at the library, being the first one in as the library worker who looks like a hefty and cross-eyed Jeff Daniels let me in. The many different guidebooks I read through and worked in. The practice tests. The stress. The anxiety. Yeah. This one definitely goes in the win column.

*Note 1. Something about his age, maybe, but he likes to go into detail about having the common cold. His woman friend makes good soups, apparently. This was the only thing I learned, though his descriptions of his days watching TV and not feeling any better did paint a picture.

The Eclipse

The Chicago Film Festival started last Thursday. Dinah and I have been going for the last few years. Generally the films are all really good, though there are few clunkers in there.* But last night I saw one of my favorite films. Possibly ever.

The Eclipse.

It's and Irish film directed by Conor McPherson (pictured), who is clearly a genius.

Now, I studied in London my Junior year of college, which was an amazing time. One of the highlights of the time there was all the theater I saw. I saw some amazing plays. The Invention of Love (which was also amazing. Tom Stoppard is also a genius), Oklahoma (with Hugh Jackman, hell yeah!), Phedre, Coppenhagen, and many others. My favorite play I saw, though, was McPherson's The Weir. This play is amazing. The acting was solid. I'm a generally emotional person, but not one who cries in front of others a lot. This play definitely made me cray. (Though, I am unsure if the people I was with really knew it.) From then on, whenever I'm near a book store with a section devoted to plays, I look up McPherson to see if there's a new play of his out. I've pretty much bought everything of his I've run across. And I've really enjoyed everything. So, when we saw a fim he directed was coming to the festival, it was a given I would see it somehow.

Something McPherson does really well is incorporate the otherworldly into his plays. In The Weir, this is done through ghost stories. Other plays it's the devil, or vampires. And, while this may seem to make his plays horror-affairs, the strength of them comes from McPherson's ability to tap into the feelings and emotions of the people who are dealing with the otherworldly. Whatever the phenomona is that the characters deal with, their emotions are the focus of the story. McPherson wrote the screen play with Billy Roche, who has a small part in the film. McPherson also directed the film, as well as helped arranged some of the music, which is very haunting.

I tell you this, because The Eclipse is similar in that way. The film festival guide described the film as being about two men who are after the same woman, who is a writer of supernatural things. Or some such. And the movie is about that, but only in a supporting way. This movie, in my eyes, is really more about a man and his family getting over loss, and the supernatural plays an important part in telling the story. I don't want to give too much away, because I think everyone should see this movie if they can, but I do want to say the lead actor, Ciaran Hinds, was absolutely brilliant. It's a part that required a lot from an actor and Hinds really delivers. Every scene is pitch perfect.**

And the way the camera is used throughout the film is very interesting. Horror films, and in some ways this is a horror film, have long been places of innovation and interesting camera shots and I think that tradition can be seen here. From the way the camera pans, to the angles chosen and what's shown to the viewer in almost every shot--the cinematography was outstanding.

I say this movie is in some ways a horror film, because this movie was really scary. But the frights come not only from the appearance of something frightening, but also because of what that something represents. In other words, it's more than just about being slashed by a sports-apparrell wearing nutbag who kills because he's never been loved. The movie delves into emotions more frightening than that. It's like a mature horror movie. I really cannot overemphasize how great it was.

Please go see it.

*Note 1. Like La Mustache, which was an overwrought French film where a man, after seeing old pictures of him on a tropical island without a mustach, shaves his facial hair. It's a dramatic scene of shaving and I guess it's some sort of transformational moment or something, but guess what? None of this man's friends notice his new lack of facial hair. He become obssessed with wondering why no one notices. He eventually goes insane, moves to a tropical island and guess what? His picture is taken. And the picture is the one he saw before. What a mind fuck! Seriously, it was the worst film I've ever seen. Of course it won the fan award that year. So, I know nothing about film and the genius it takes to write a circular story. You are warned.

**Note 2. It looks like Mr. Hinds has been cast in the final two Harry Potter films. Good for him.

The killing of the past and the coming back to life...

Things can change quickly. I learned that a year ago when I was let go from my job and suddenly had to worry about money in a way that I never had to before. I was only six months into my marriage and as I walked out of the Sears Tower (which it still was back then), I was panicked that this might be a critical blow. I mean, maybe it wouldn't end it, but it certainly couldn't be good for the marriage. And, it wasn't. But after the initial shock, I was lucky to find that my wife is ridiculously supportive of me. And being supportive of me is not always an easy job. I am sometimes unable to listen to the good things about myself and instead insist on tearing myself down. In short, my wife is a saint.

This last year has been tough on me. Being fired, especially to someone raised to believe your work is as important (if not more so) to who you are as your family and such, felt like a cosmic kick in the balls. I've always thought of myself as a star. Not in a, "I can do whatever I want" or "everyone envies me" sort of way, but in a "I always succeed" sort of way. Getting let go put a huge dent in that. It's not that I never knew adversity, but it always seemed easy to handle. Things that seemed huge at the time, like getting good grades in school or getting an apartment where I wanted, they never seemed to be all that hard. I always got at least decent grades in college and there seemed like there were so many apartments that if someone else took this one before I got my deposit in, there'd be another and hey it might work out better. Right after I was let go, I thought it would be easy. Well, not easy, but not so challenging. I thought It'd take a couple weeks or so, but I'd find another, better job. As you know if you've been following the blog, that didn't happen. It was a long year of not hearing from any jobs and being disappointed by the ones I did hear from.

I was lucky to have Dinah. But I was also lucky that I reacted to my initial outsourcing with enough forethought to enter the paralegal program. I don't think I can overstate how good that was for me. Over the course of the time there, I went from having virtually no confidence about myself and my skills to really believing that everything was gonna work out again. I started to see myself as a star again. I was encouraged by my professors and I did well. And I started to think I could, and should, look higher than just what seemed the next rung up on the ladder. So, I registered for the LSAT and started getting serious about going to law school. This had all been a slow change.

But things can change quickly. And they really did this weekend. Saturday morning I took the LSAT. It felt pretty good.* I'm not sure I knocked it out of the park, but I think I did pretty well, and I think it'll be a good score to take me to some very nice law schools. I've got to wait about three weeks to get my score and put it all in perspective for sure, but for now, just having that stress gone from my day-to-day life, I'm a lot happier.

And yesterday, I went in to interview with a small firm that specializes in real-estate here in Chicago. It was a great interview process. They asked tough questions, but for some reason, I was really prepared for them. I can't say I did anything different in preparing for this interview, but I just had a lot more confidence that my experience and skills matched up. And that even though I don't know much about real-estate law, I could learn and excel. And they agreed with me. So, I start tomorrow.

The interviewers were also great at pointing out that this job will be challenging and that it's deadline driven. I will have a lot to learn in a short period of time and there's a lot of stress associated with this job. So, it's not like I'm on easy street or anything. But I'm happy to have a challenge. I'm a little worried that things might not work out. The echoes of this year do still ring in my ears, but I am starting to get that feeling that everything will be okay. Because I was lucky to invest in myself this year. And because I absolutely got lucky to be married to the woman I am. And because even the tough problems turned out to be easier to handle than they could have been.

Though, I hope I'm at the end of employment drama. Handleable, yes. Enjoyable, no.

*Note 1. Except that whoever was supposed to proctor our test didn't show up and we had to wait an hour and a half for another proctor to show up. That I didn't like so much. I did like that I was not the oldest person there, but it was a little disconcerting when I saw a college age woman waiting for the test with her parents. I can't say for sure why it bothered me when her parents kissed her good-bye and handed her her clear plastic bag with her pencils and snack. But, it really did.

Comics (or by not being afraid to fall out the sky)

When I was a little kid, just old enough to love cartoons, I went to the hall closet and grabbed an oversized towel and tied it around my neck. I then went to the kitchen, pulled a chair over to the counter and climbed up. I turned around and looked past the phone into the living room at the front door. Bending my knees slightly, I crept forward, reached my arms into the sky, cried, "Superman!" and lept.

Of course, I didn't soar away to fight Brainiac or Solomon Grundy. I hit the floor. And bounced.

My sister remembers coming in to see what had made such a loud thud, only to find me climbing up from the floor and taking the towel off. When she asked me what happened, I apparently shrugged and went outside to go ride my bike.

***********

I have thought a lot about this story lately. Partly because I have to write up my personal statement for my law school application and one of the things in vogue with these statements is to tell a story about yourself and relate it back to what kind of person you are or why you want to go to law school. So, for a couple minutes, I thought I could tell this story and relate it to my ability to deal with set backs, or my desire to push boundaries or something. This, as you may have guessed, would be a bad idea. Not only is it disengenuous, but it's more than a little trite.

So, yeah. I'm not sure if the personal statement I have now is gonna be as memorable as that story, but it's honest. And it's not so formulaic. So. There's that.

***********

Of course, another reason I've been thinking about that story is to wonder what the hell was I thinking as a kid. Honestly, sometimes I think it's a miracle I made it this far.

***********

The picture I'm displaying is by Alex Ross, who, for those of you not lucky enough to have come across his work, is the best. He is a painter who has worked extensively in the comic book genre, and, as you can see, he makes very life-like images of the superheroes he depicts.

If you're looking to see some of his best work and have a good read, I recommend Kingdom Come, which looks at the intersection of faith and superheroes (among other things). It's one of my favorite graphic novels and it owes a lot to the thought Ross puts into casting the superheroes. I say casting, because he will often model the superheroes on people he knows. And if you think my praising him is at least partly motivated by the thought of him appreciating my praise and thinking I would make a good model*, well, you know me only too well.

***********

I was never a big fan of Superman as a kid. Maybe I was before I bounced off the kitchen floor, but not after, that's for sure. I was always partial to Batman. Maybe I lacked the imagination to identify with the super-powered characters, but I think it was also because I knew I couldn't ever become one. I had accepted that I would never shoot lasers out of my eyes or be able to fly. But, maybe I would be able to be a great detective who helped people. It's not so much that I could see myself fighting people or anything. I knew better than that, but I thought I could do the other things.

As I've grown up though (and you could argue a sign of my growing up would be to stop reading comics, but whatever), I've started to feel more affinity for Superman. I don't really watch Smallville, or even follow his character in the comic books. (But, then, I'm not reading any Batman books now either.) I just like the idea of him. And how he's been portrayed in some of the books I've read (like Kingdom Come). He's not so much the cocky, all-powerful man of steel I saw him as when I was younger. He's more riddled with doubt. He's burdened by expectations--some external, but mainly internal--that he is the last, best hope of everyone. That he has to do everything better than anyone else. In short, he's much more human than I originally thought.

***********

I can't talk about my comics love without mentioning how awesome Blackest Night has been. I'm a little behind in my reading, but seriously, Geoff Johns is writing some great comic books. I mean, the premise is one of those so simple ideas that you can't believe it hasn't been done already. So, you had the Green Lanterns, who are powered by will power, right? Well, Johns takes the rest of the ROY G BIV color spectrum and gives them lanterns and emotions that power them. And then throws in black, which is run by death. Such a great idea.

His run on Green Lantern, from bringing back Hal Jordan (who has become my favorite character), to everything in Blackest Night, has been phenominal. And it's probably changed the character forever, in a great way.

*Note 1. I have often thought I would make a nice Foggy Nelson.

Yup, another Mega-update...or (I am a leaf on the wind. Watch how I soar)

Look, I know this isn't what good blogs do. They give you content everyday. They give you something interesting to think about. Even if they just talk about themselves, at least they give you something to chuckle about.

And hey, I would like to be a good blog. But I'm not, right now. It's okay. It's out there now. Let's move on.

*************

Watch Glee tomorrow. Look, TV has been quite the tease for me the last couple of years. Last year, three shows I really liked got cancelled, despite the fact that they were good shows. Eli Stone, Dirty Sexy Money, and most heinously, Pushing Daisies* were all shot down. (Though Pushing Daisies is coming back in comic book form, which I am thrilled about. Seriously, this has all the markings of awesome.) So, I need this one.

FOX showed the pilot twice and I enjoyed it both times. The show delves into the realm of cheese, but purposefully. It's quirky and fun. Tomorrow's show will be the start of the first season, so seriously folks get on board. You will thank me.

*************

Some of my procrastination has been well-founded, though. I have been studying for the LSAT pretty hardcore** right now. My scores have popped up to the level I wanted them to be, so with 17 days 13 hours and 22 minutes left (as of this typing) I'm feeling pretty good about my shot of hitting this test hard. The little bit of doubt I'm having now is what's keeping me headed to the library. That's good.

The bad news about this test is that I am not allowed to wear a hat during it. And I can't bring my iPod and get all Michael Phelps (above picture) jazzed up*** before I start. I don't know why the loss of the iPod and my lucky Cardinals hat is bothering me, but...well...okay, I'm oddly superstitious. I know they're trying to keep me from cheating, but honestly, I'm not smart enough to think of a way to cheat with just my hat and an iPod, except to have a recording of Obi Wan Kenobe going on repeat just saying, "Joe! Use the contrapositive."

Sigh. Oh well.

*************

Also, last week, I got to work on a trial with the attorney I've been doing work for****. What sort of trial, you ask?

a MURDER trial.

It freaked my mom out when I told her.

So, yeah. It was really cool. I mean, I didn't, you know, get to ask questions or anything, but I reviewed documents and helped with the prep. I took notes and reviewed testimony and gave opinions on questions and such. I mean, it's probably not the biggest, bestest thing ever, but I helped. I actually caught a detail that, if it had slipped past my boss (and it probably wouldn't have) could have really messed things up for our client.

And really, more important than that, is how much I enjoyed watching it. I know it's probably not the right thing to say. I mean, it's a human tragedy playing out infront of me, but it's exciting to watch. The questioning, the answers, the manuevering. Yeah. This is where I want to be. This is what I want to do. It's been a really, really long time where I felt like I had potential. You know? I heard it so much when I was a kid. "You have potential." Potential for what I never really thought about. But now, it's like I can see it. I know it's a ways down the pike for me, but I'm working on it. And just having the direction--the beacon out there in the future somewhere--it's such a different feeling. It's better than I felt when looking at college, because now I know where I'm heading for beyond the term of school. I don't know the details yet, but I know the picture. And it was all there in that courtroom. And I can do this.

The benches were uncomfortable though. Have to say that.

*************

So, we say Extract yesterday. And I gotta say, I was hugely dissappointed. I looked at the cast--with Jason Bateman and Ben Affleck***** and JK Simmons and Kristen Wiig--I was pretty excited. And the cast did well. Bateman was solid. Affleck was good--honestly, he gives the best performance in the movie. JK Simmons and Wiig, were good, but completely under-used.

And mostly, the movie was...well, clunky. I've come to expect a little of that from Mike Judge. I like his movies, but there's a certain amount of clunk to them. I am not sure if everyone feels this way or if it's just a difference in my comedic preferences, but it's always there for me. This time, however, it wasn't just there, it was omni-present. And Judge always uses some sort of shortcut to make a character do something they normally wouldn't. It's never a solid reason, and is really part of the charm of some of the other movies, but in this case, it doesn't work. It just ends up making me feel uncomfortable and condescended to******.

Another bone of contention: the movie just seems to make fun of blue-collar workers in a way that isn't loving or empathetic, as has been the case in his other movies. And really, it's not all that funny. And with a cast like that, I just can't forgive that. So, yeah. Save your money folks.

*************

*Note 1. Oh, I noticed they were all ABC shows. Between this and Disney buying Marvel Comics, I am more than miffed at the Mouse.

**Note 2. I would say not hardcore hardcore...more like Iowa juicebar hardcore.

***Note 3. I'm sure this is how he's described it in interviews.

****Note 4. Preposition dangling free and easy.

*****Note 5. I am an unabashed Affleck fan. Say what you will haters of Affleck, but he's a good actor. And most people I've heard bash him do so because he dates hot women they cannot date. And I can understand the urge (I guess...), but I honestly don't care who he dates. As long as he's doing good work, I'm happy. My only greivence with him is he hasn't done as much work lately.

******Note 6. See Note 3.