Crabs in a bucket. I say, fuck it!

I just read that a Dutch Court has lifted the court order forbidding a 14 year old girl from embarking on a solo around the world sail.  As one might expect there was plenty of editorial comment following the article - most criticizing the girl, her family and even the court for allowing the sail.

The most striking observation to me is that clearly none of those who are so loudly critical of this 14 year old girl's solo sail have ever been to sea.  Tales of high seas and dangerous waters, treacherous typhoons and serious squalls, shipwrecking knockdowns and more.  By people who have never seen any of it.  People who have never tasted the salt in the wind, or pulled a sheet through the wench and watched the sails snap to shape and feel her lean into the wind.

This young sailor, with four years of solo experience, has more sea under her than any of those who are crying about her dream.  I know this because I have my sea time and I applaud this brave sailor, as would any Salt worth his ... well, his salt.

I'm not sure why, but it seems to me that most people, the masses, are deathly afraid of someone else following any dream that is outside of mainstream.  Probably because it reminds them how small their dicks are I imagine. 

If you have a bucket of crabs (a tasty start to a great evening I might add) you never need to put a lid on them.  Any crabs that reach for the sky to get out of the bucket are swiftly pulled back down by the rest of the crabs - the masses. 

All my life I have been told what I cannot do and why I cannot do it.  Even after I did it.  I say fuck that!

Opinions and their expression are protected by the First Amendment, and I'm a Constitutionalist so I can't argue against that protection.  But fucking shit people, do you think you can limit your opinionated expressions to things that you are actually qualified to express an opinion about ?

Like all the illegal aliens who are against the new State Immigration Law here in Arizona.  Illegal aliens are the least qualified people to even have a fucking opinion about that law.   Do we allow burglars to protest laws against burglary, or rapists to protest laws against rape?  Its the same fucking thing.

The only people qualified to express a valid opinion about this 14 year old girl are her family and the sailing families that have tied a reef before her.

Death can happen though you say?  So the fuck what!  I have a big fucking surprise - DEATH HAPPENS!  No matter what.  The most important thing is - did you have a dream and follow it.

Yes, there are two elements.  You first have to dream.   I don't mean dream small either.  Shoot for the motherfucking stars.  Someone in my family used to tell me to aim lower so I won't be so disappointed when I fail.  For real.  No shit.  I say, fuck it.

Aim as high as you can imagine and constantly raise your aim as your perception expands and your horizons broaden.

I have sailed the sea in calm and storm, and although I am certainly not an around the world solo kind of sailor, I've been there.  I've done it.  If you haven't, then kindly, and I mean this in the most respectful way possible, shut the FUCK up you stupid cunts.  (Emphasis added for, well, effect).

Am I pissing you off yet.  I hope so.  You should be pissed - wasting your fucking life for a paycheck, a mortgage, a car payment, a promotion.  Where the fuck are your memories?  The office christmas party doesn't count no matter how many of the office sluts you bang in the back room.  Well, maybe if you bang a lot of them.

But then only because you took a risk, you stepped out of your comfort zone - even if it was only for 3 minutes.  Its not that she was all that hot mind you , its the energy of doing something the masses tell you that you can't do.  I say fuck it.

Back to sea.  To me the ocean is a lady.  Many nights she held me and rocked me to sleep.  She carried me from place to place.  She gave me joys that only another Sailor can understand.  This 14 year old Dutch girl understands. 

Even if the sea were to take her she was at least following her dream.  She was doing something, instead of sitting in a chair stuffing her face with McCrap and talking shit about something she knows nothing about.

Don't try to describe what you have never seen. 

So if you have not been to sea, well, you know.  Crabs in a bucket.   And if you don't have a dream, well that's your loss.  Just stay the fuck out of mine.

... A year ago, a year from now ....

One year ago today I was wandering around the streets of downtown Sacramento.  I was exploring the convention center where I would begin taking the California Bar Exam the next day.  I was finding the Starbucks, the bathrooms, the drop off and pick up places that best suited me.

My entire world consisted of the Exam, and nothing else.

As you know, I passed that Exam.

In a few days Daun, Owen and I leave on our road trip.  We will end up in the Sacramento Valley for a week of wine, beaches and cities.  I'm sure that, the trip being in California, I will have much inspiration for new, exciting and mostly offensive blogshit.  So be watching for it.

A year from now.... 

Well I expect my moral character process will be completed and I'll be sworn in as an Attorney at Law, Esq., a lawyer, etc. 

I will also be two semesters (and perhaps a summer session) closer to having my medical school pre-req's completed (with maybe 2 more semesters to go, or even less).

And most certainly, I will be drinking a Macchia Late Harvest Zinfandel.

MEEP ! MEEP!

Nearly halfway through my second semester back at school I have distilled down my inner motivations into an articulable direction.  For the dumbasses out there, it means I know what I want and how imma get it bitch!

I have long been drawn to natural medicince.  Homeopathy can get pretty damn hokey though and while it has some emperical support in science, much of it is too etherial for my objectives.  So I looked at oriental medicine and even took a semester of Mandarin.  Ni hao ma?  Its just not "doctor" enough for me.

Naturopathic Medicine is a scientifically evidenced system of natural and modern medicine that seems to fit my thinking.  And Arizona has the broadest scope of practice for ND's, making them primary care providers with prescribing authority and health insurance payments.

So after reviewing again the prereqs to get in and doing the cost benefit analysis comparison of the ND to the MD I am settled on the Naturopathic program.

But before I can get to the ND program I am going to obtain a MSOM (Master of Science Oriental Medicine).  Oriental Medicine is within the scope of practice for ND's anyway but the education isnt as in depth as I want and OM is likely to be my main modality so I want the best education in the area I can get.

So .... I have another two years at GCC before I begin the MSOM program, which is a four year program.  After that its on to medical school for another four years.  I guess thats my ten year plan ....

Of course there will be plenty of adventures along the way !

Catharsis

Catharsis


1. Medicine Purgation, especially for the digestive system.

2. A purifying or figurative cleansing of the emotions, especially pity and fear, described by Aristotle as an effect of tragic drama on its audience.

3. A release of emotional tension, as after an overwhelming experience, that restores or refreshes the spirit.

4. Psychology

a. A technique used to relieve tension and anxiety by bringing repressed feelings and fears to consciousness.

b. The therapeutic result of this process; abreaction.



I was glancing at some of the many “Bar Exam Blogs” a moment ago, mostly out of habit that any other reason. It feels so irresponsible to not be studying for the bar exam still. My bookshelves sit empty of the dozens and dozens of volumes of bar review material, and I wonder what I can put there in their place.



My existence also has empty space, left vacant by the news on November 20, 2009, that I have indeed passed the California Bar Exam. I also ponder what I might fill that space with, now that its no longer full of emotional tension and overwhelming experience.



So I’m looking at these videos of people checking their bar exam results and the first thing that stands out to me is that there are no videos of people finding out they did not pass. I suppose no one wants to post that kind of thing online? I know I deleted my first video of checking results (and not passing).



Anyway, I had to stop looking at the videos because I was getting all cathartic again. It seems that moment gets burned into your emotional core forever. Or at least for a few months.



It is true that I have experienced a purifying cleansing of emotions, particularly fear. Certainly there has been a release of emotional tension following a clear overwhelming experience – taking the California Bar Exam three times.



The attorney in my firm has now called me “an attorney in the firm” three or four times. A very restorative and refreshing moment to say the least.



Therapeutically speaking, my tension and anxiety is banished with no lingering repressed feelings or fears.



Overall, learning that I passed the bar has been rather uneventful on the surface. My job is the same as it was before. My life is really not that much different – other than the 12 hour study days are now over. I’m not very different than I was before. On the surface anyway.



I discovered that taking the bar exam is an experience that cannot be adequately described to someone who has not themselves also taken a bar exam. Its simply not possible to put it into language. As much as I would love to yell “Taste It Bitches!!!” you just can’t.



So too is passing the bar exam. As I have been sharing the news that I passed, I am discovering that I cannot express the experience of passing the bar exam to those who have not also passed a bar exam. Its simply too big for words. In fact I could not even speak in the moments following that click of a button that brought the news to me that my name was found on the pass list.



I think its safe to say that it hasn’t fully sunk in for me yet. I still look at the pass list once or twice a week just to see my name there, but I don’t get emotional over that anymore.



But watching the video of someone getting their bar exam results puts me right back in that moment on Friday, November 20, 2009, a little after 7:00 p.m.



Time stopped. Literally, because I pulled out the crown of my “bar exam watch” that I had been using to keep track of time during the exams. That watch will never again be used for anything other than as a memento of catharsis.



I have a new watch now.



I have a new life now, and a future that I have not been able to see because of the limitations of law school and the bar exam.



I am writing in the pages of my life in ink, not pencil. And dammit I’m using a MontBlanc pen instead of some crappy Pilot gel.

Thanks Giving

Somewhere along the way I began a tradition of having everyone at the dinner table say what they are thankful for on Thanksgiving Day.

Because not everyone necessary for a complete giving of thanks will be at my table ( failure to join an indispensable party I think ) I am going to give my thanks here.

This Thanksgiving I am obviously thankful that I passed the California Bar Exam. I am also thankful for all the love and support (including financial) from all of the great people that stood by me while I travelled this difficult road.

April and Julie kept me sane when there was no one else. Ashley kept me insulated from anything that would distract me. John let me study when I should have been working. Eric and the mansion crew kept me drinking when I was about to give up. Kelly sent me her Angels. Mom handed me her Platinum Card and said do whatever it takes. Ronda made sure I was at the Convention Center on time every day and got me wined up with the best Lodi Zinfandel after it was over.

Max reminded me to never quit and I hung my Blue Rope from my rear view mirror as a daily affirmation that I would fight on to complete the mission. With no air conditioner in the 120 degree summer heat that Blue Rope kept me driving on Airborne.

My Wardog family went with me into every exam through the coin in my pocket, and many bought my drinks for me when the exam was over. I could never let you guys down.

She took me in when I was heartbroken and beaten and was my best cheerleader when the fight got rough. As difficult as it was to live with me through all of this she never faltered and never let me give up. This journey, which would have been unbearable alone, has become the most enjoyable journey (so far) in my life.

And I am thankful for everyone else that has encouraged and contributed to my cause for celebration this Thanksgiving.

Thank you all so much ... con todo mi ser, gracias.

Legalizing Marijuana ?

I don't typically take positions on political issues. Law school educates politics right out of you. (Not to be confused with being a politician, a profession many lawyers pursue. I'm talking about political ideology and positions here).

I feel I am forced to take a position on the issue of whether or not to legalize marijuana, however not for political or religious reasons. My position is purely selfish and based in economics.

I was in San Diego last weekend. If you don't already know, a lot of weed is smoked in San Diego, particularly in Ocean Beach, where an enterprising beach bum can acquire a rather satisfactory contact high just by walking in and out of various crowds.

Sunday morning we stopped for coffee and bagels at Einstein's Bagels. As you will soon see, the name should have been Dumbfuck Stoner's Bagels.

OK, so pretend you are the guy behind the counter at the bagel and coffee place. A man and a woman, obviously together, discuss their desires for breakfast then approach you to place the order.

You would take both orders right ?

Not Dumbfuck stoner boy.

No, he enters my order, closes the ticket and mumbles I can pay at the other end of the counter (where the cash register is in plain view). I nod and wait for him to take her order. No, Dumbfuck stoner boy gets offended I remained in his red zone and insists I can pay at the other end of the counter.

Now I'm pissed. I have not even had my motherfucking coffee yet.

It gets worse.

I informed Dumbfuck stoner boy he will now take the rest of our order and I will then proceed to the plainly visible cash register to pay for the entire order. Thinking he is now in compliance with my most reasonable demand we complete the ordering process and slide a few yards to the cashier.

For fucks sake. What do you mean you have to run the debit card twice? That's right, Dumbfuck stoner boy strikes again - two checks.

Facing the competing options of bitchslapping Dumbfuck stoner boy or pissing on his leg I decide that I really need my coffee now.

I not so politely informed the "manager" that we are leaving because rainman down at the other end is a dumbfuck stoner. Manager just gazes through half closed blurry eyes and says nothing. Probably had not completely processed though the haze of weed yet.

So here is my theory.

I believe that most of the "quick service" employees are potheads. Think about it. No drug testing. Free fried food. No drug testing. Simple tasks that can be relearned every week (like washing your hands and asking "would you like fries with that?"). No drug testing. Flexible hygiene standards. No drug testing. Look closely the next time you are grabbing a "quick" bite somewhere. Potheads. You know I am right.

Now, imaging all these Dumbfuck stoners aren't even trying to hide the fact that they are stoned. The "smoke break" takes on a whole new meaning.

You think your Taco Bell order is fucked up now? Wait until weed is legal! Forgotten fries, diet instead of regular, missing meat from your Mc Whopper or whatthefuckever you eat.

And they will all be laughing hysterically behind the counter.

And you can forget all about "fast food" and "quick service." Not that its very fast now but grease the wheels of food production with some weed and watch our entire industrial complex grind to slow motion.

The Dumbfuck stoners will never understand us unless we learn to speak stoner. For example, "dude, like score me some big ass fries and like ummmm maybe like a Mc .. wait ... um nevermind scratch that umm... dude what?" Equals "a number 2 to go with a coke" in the cortex of the Dumbfuck stoner.

Legalize weed all you want. Just not for the fucksticks that serve us our food and especially our coffee.

Shit. Now I'm craving Doritos.

A Horse is a Horse Of Course ...

... of course unless the horse is some blonde scrawny mouth full of teeth chick at my bar.

Seriously, she couldnt even close her mouth with all the teeth. I wonder is she is a mouth breather?

I didn't really notice her right away because of her chubbie friend that was stripper dancing in her seat. I finally understand what "pigs dancing in a burlap sack" really looks like. Its funny how beer and latin hip hop a la Pitbull can get an ugly chick humming on herself.

Our night was winding down and it seemed theirs was winding up. Horsemouth came out of nowhere up to our table as if to graze and asked if any of us were smokers. But her teeth didnt move! Those white boulders of got beat the fuck up by the tooth fairy are packed in her mouth so damn tight nothing moves!

We were all stunned by her sudden presence and HOLY SHIT LOOK AT THOSE FUCKING TEETH that no one responded right away. McLovin finally said some weak something something about smoking cigarettes or something else. This elicited giggles of joy from Horsemouth.

I was able to avert my stare long enough to jump on the set up McLovin gave me, pushing Horsemouth to confess that she and her Chubsketeers had some ganja. Come on, ALL fat and/or ugly chicks have ganja or they will never get laid. I grilled her to the point that she was about to admit to possessing said narcotic when Bosnia Girl ran Horsemouth off. I never even got my badge off my belt.

Amid a chorus of horse noises and breying we finally wandered toward the front door, but not before taking one last look just to make sure Horsemouth wasn't just wearing some kind of fucked up redneck halloween prop.

Nope. Those fucking teeth are for real.

Was it really that bad?

I'll put it this way. I have no idea what Horsemouth's tits look like. Those that know me can tell you thats really fucking bad.

I think we can add a new one to the list of asshole shit to do while fucking a girl: The Lone Ranger - when you mount a Horsemouth and yell loudly, "Hi Yo Silver, Away!!!"

Then try to hold on.