I'm Boooooorrrrriiiiiinnnnngggggggg

Okay. One million years after I said I would post all the time for the benefit of the one reader that remains, here I am to tell you that I'm boring. How did I come to this conclusion? Besides the obvious yawn-factor of my general witty party banter, there is the unimpeachable evidence provided by my Search Bar History. That's right folks. The self-same tool that many wives have used to catch their hubbies in the act of cybercheating can be used to empirically identify the degree to which my boringness extends. Allow a brief survey. (This is in lieu of working on my paper for Sexual Orientation and the Law class. 30 pages in a month?! I laugh in the face of pressure.)

1. Cute Overload

Each day (sometimes multiple times a day) I peruse the offerings of this entertaining and witty site in order to add some luster to the general banality of my weekdays (and, okay, my weekends too). For example, a trip to Cute Overload can provide both this:

and this:

So see? Something for everyone. But what does it say about me that I spend so much otherwise quality time staring at these pictures? My theory is that it's one step closer to realizing my true destiny. I am staring down the barrel at being a woman, alone except for her cat, thinking of her glory days in law school (ugh...my glory days were spent in law school), and doing things like emailing "This adooorrrable thing I saw on Cute Overload" to her unsuspecting (or all-too-suspicious) contact list. And.That's.It. Job will include phoning people for surveys. I will never leave the house. Yep. That's my future.

2. Netflix

Movies at the click of a mouse! They deliver right to your door! It's a sign of the advancement of our culture! But let's review what Netflix means for me. A) I never have to interact with people at the movie store again. B) I rent primarily television programs. These two things together add up, once again, to me never ever ever leaving the house. I don't have to go to the video store. And television shows come with between two and six episodes on a disc. Hours on the couch, lost in an ecstasy of escapist bliss, hastening the day when I will do the aforemetioned telephone surveys and email the cute pictures. Oh, hell. Who am I kidding? I already email the cute pictures. Damn.

3. Slashdot

This one might actually hold a glimmer of hope. Sort of. In a roundabout way. This mecca of all things geek appears on the history bar because I went there in an effort to bond with the Athens boy who made a brief appearance in my last post. He hasn't yet been scared away by my crazy. But, the thing is, I'm attempting bonding through A) a website that B) I don't understand. Boring.

4. The Bar

And not the fun kind of bar either. This is the kind of bar where they make you disclose all the deepest darkest secrets of your past and pay dearly for the privilege. This is the bar where they make you disapper into a vortex of civil procedure rules and tort remedies and Fourteenth Amendment rights for approximately two months because three years of law school isn't apparently enough of a sacrifice for the Beast God of Law. This is the kind of bar you live and breathe. And I bow down before it in supplication, unworthy and brainwashed.

5. LexisNexis

Really is not surprising that people don't talk to me at the parties. Legal research anyone? I'm currently spending a lot of my time at this site because of the paper I mentioned for Sexual Orientation and the Law class. Hold on to your hats, folks. I'm writing about how anti-gay laws are illegally based on status. Because in this country of ours, you aren't supposed to punish based on status, you are supposed to punish based on conduct. But now that sodomy can't (theoretically) be made illegal anymore, there's no conduct on which to base the pernicious anti-gay laws (read: anti-marriage constitutional amendments, military policy, adoption laws, etc.). It's still being fleshed out, but that's the gist. Eh? Anybody for a Debbie Downer? Because these days, that's me. Bo-ring.

What would make me more exciting? How do I grab life by the, ahem, hair and shake it until it bends to my will? Well, my options seem to be: quit law school, quit law school, quit law school. Which I guess I won't do, considering my proximity to the proverbial light at the end of the vaginal metaphor. So, woot on that score. But, geez, I'm one round of exams and 13 class credits away from disappearing for another two months into the aforementioned Bar Vortex. And I don't have a job yet.

I did finish the New York Times crossword puzzle this weekend. That's something.

Something boring.