My Uncle Bill’s dying. He has brain cancer. I guess he’s known about it for awhile but didn’t say anything until he had a stroke a couple weeks ago. The doctor said he only has 2-weeks, and that was 2-weeks ago. Recently, my mom, my grandmother, and her brother, Un-Chuck, went to San Francisco to see him for the last time. That is, my Uncle Bill was visited in the hospital, one last time, by his sister, his mother, and his uncle, and all parties new it would be the last time they would ever all be together because one of them was going to be dead in a few days.
It must’ve been weird.
I wonder what they talked about. I wonder if it felt like if it was the end and everything was consequential or if it was boring and frivolous and seemed to go on longer than it needed to like most family get-togethers, or really like most human interactions. The worst part is that he didn’t die while they were there. They said their goodbyes and got a plane and he stayed there waiting to die by himself.
I could probably count on both hands the number of times I remember seeing my Uncle. He’s a total weirdo, and not in the fun jokey Bill Murray way. More in the Todd Solondz character way, which makes me uncomfortable because Uncle Bill and I look a lot alike. I saw a picture of him right before he shipped off to Vietnam and he looked exactly like me. It makes me uncomfortable because I sometimes feel about myself the way I feel about him. Or I atleast believe that people see in me what I see in him, which is just a disconcerting loner. A guy that does unexplained things and is so far gone into himself, the most simple human interactions come off as clanky and uneasy. He lies a lot and it’s painfully obvious, and when I lie, I feel like it’s being perceived the same way. When people aren’t calling me out on my untruth, it’s not because I’m so good at misleading them, it’s because they pity me like I pity him.
UPDATE: Uncle Bill's dead
10/10/10
10/8/10
Proud Black Woman
So you may have noticed a drop-off in posts. This can primarily be attributed to the terminal state of my Samsung Digimax U-CA5. The camera was a present from Christmas 2004. As you can probably tell from the lineage that appears on some of my photos, it’s been on the fritz for awhile. Very recently, it passed into a comatose state. So until I get a replacement, shit on Just Fronts will be slowed down.
However, in non-visual news, I recently found out that I passed the Illinois State Bar exam, and (supposedly) will be sworn in as a licensed attorney in about a month.
I’m not going to lie; I did not think I was going to pass. About a week after sitting for the exam, I put my odds of passing at 42%. That number incrementally decreased the further away from July 28th I got. In fact, days ago, I was dreading incoming mail (electronic and conventional) because I was convinced a notice of tragic news was waiting for me. In the back of my mind, I was mounting a strategy for when and how I would retake, or if I was even going to bother to retake, the exam. Actually, this feeling has yet to cease. I remain fearful that the State of Illinois will change their mind and send a retraction letter.
But I did try really hard to pass. I (hopefully) will never work that hard, for that long of a period of time, ever again. I mean, not only was Summer 2010 completely annulled, it was sorrowful and laborious. Like you don’t even know. It’s like I don’t even know. Think about what it felt like when you made out with a really beautiful woman. Remember exactly how it felt. Can you remember the exact way her lips felt on yours? Or particularly, how extraordinarily magnificent that feeling was. And what that huge rush of endorphins was like? Really try to remember that feeling. Try to put yourself back there.
You can’t!
It was a feeling that memories can only recreate so much of. The rest only existed in that moment, and you will never be able to experience it again unless you kiss a different, equally (or possibly more) beautiful woman. That’s how studying for the bar was. Only instead of extremely sexy and pleasurable, it was heartrending and oppressive. It shaved about 5-years off my life.
On the other hand, it’s something that thousands of other young law school graduates had to contend with this summer, and something thousands of other young law school students have had to contend with for dozens of summers before, and they all survived. But I imagine there will come a time, maybe in my lifetime, when bar associations across the nation see fit to suspend the bar exam. It already (sorta) happened in Minnesota. It’s just way too tortuous, and honestly, I don’t remember anything I “learned” from BARBRI. I don’t remember anything from law school. That’s probably why I’ll’ never be a lawyer.
However, in non-visual news, I recently found out that I passed the Illinois State Bar exam, and (supposedly) will be sworn in as a licensed attorney in about a month.
I’m not going to lie; I did not think I was going to pass. About a week after sitting for the exam, I put my odds of passing at 42%. That number incrementally decreased the further away from July 28th I got. In fact, days ago, I was dreading incoming mail (electronic and conventional) because I was convinced a notice of tragic news was waiting for me. In the back of my mind, I was mounting a strategy for when and how I would retake, or if I was even going to bother to retake, the exam. Actually, this feeling has yet to cease. I remain fearful that the State of Illinois will change their mind and send a retraction letter.
But I did try really hard to pass. I (hopefully) will never work that hard, for that long of a period of time, ever again. I mean, not only was Summer 2010 completely annulled, it was sorrowful and laborious. Like you don’t even know. It’s like I don’t even know. Think about what it felt like when you made out with a really beautiful woman. Remember exactly how it felt. Can you remember the exact way her lips felt on yours? Or particularly, how extraordinarily magnificent that feeling was. And what that huge rush of endorphins was like? Really try to remember that feeling. Try to put yourself back there.
You can’t!
It was a feeling that memories can only recreate so much of. The rest only existed in that moment, and you will never be able to experience it again unless you kiss a different, equally (or possibly more) beautiful woman. That’s how studying for the bar was. Only instead of extremely sexy and pleasurable, it was heartrending and oppressive. It shaved about 5-years off my life.
On the other hand, it’s something that thousands of other young law school graduates had to contend with this summer, and something thousands of other young law school students have had to contend with for dozens of summers before, and they all survived. But I imagine there will come a time, maybe in my lifetime, when bar associations across the nation see fit to suspend the bar exam. It already (sorta) happened in Minnesota. It’s just way too tortuous, and honestly, I don’t remember anything I “learned” from BARBRI. I don’t remember anything from law school. That’s probably why I’ll’ never be a lawyer.
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