A Writer’s Diary Entries From Late April, 2002
Wednesday, April 24, 2002
7 PM. Last night I fell asleep at about 10:30 PM, and I slept wonderfully, but only till 4:10 AM.
Apparently that was enough sleep for me because even without caffeine today, I was wide awake.
I exercised at 6:30 AM and was at work before 8 AM.
My ad in Yahoo Personals got posted, and this 45-year-old guy in Wilton Manors, Shane, responded. He sounds really nice and looks fairly good as well, so I hope to meet him.
I don’t know if we’re each other’s type, but he’s short and looks about the right size.
I told Norbert I couldn’t make it this Saturday night.
Mark B emailed about his problems. Over the weekend, a guy smashed into Mark’s car, parked right in front of his house, and he had to deal with the police, the insurance company, and the body shop.
Plus, like Patrick, Mark is busy with end-of-the-term work.
Pat Jason was in this morning but flew to Chicago in the afternoon, and Thelma said she won’t be back till Friday.
I wrote to Ronna and Mark B (several times) and to Teresa, who, like Diane, keeps misspelling “oy” (Yiddish) as oye (like the Spanish word for “listen”).
Teresa started becoming a gardener, planting bushes and other stuff on the grounds of the new house; she was inspired by the English gardens she saw on her trip.
She said Diane had hired Peter to be the lawyer for the closing on her Woodstock house and almost immediately fired him.
I guess that will be awkward when Teresa sees Diane at Diane’s niece’s wedding this weekend.
After meeting Andy, one of Wisotsky’s chosen Crim Law teaching assistants for the fall, I closed my office door and read the main section of the New York Times and skimmed a special section on museums.
When I ran into Angela and Jim Wilets, Angela said, “I didn’t know you were famous,” and Jim said he was impressed with my email about the Stonewall Library, which I sent to them because they were on the Lambda list.
At 10:30 AM, I went to the faculty committee meeting to interview Michael Something, who’s currently teaching at the University of Dayton’s Legal Professional Program (like our LSV, it’s their version of Legal Research and Writing).
Michael graduated from Mark B’s Miami University in 1991 with a 3.9 GPA and Phi Beta Kappa, and he worked for Taft Something (yes, that Taft) in Cincinnati after graduating from Washington and Lee’s law school, where he made the law review.
For the past four years, he’s been a lecturer at the University of Dayton and is now looking for more recognition and a better salary.
The two open LSV positions are visiting ones, one for one year and one for two years, but they have the title “professor” at Nova.
Yesterday Marc Rohr, the candidate’s “shepherd,” invited me to come with him and the candidate to lunch. I automatically said no, saying that I had a student coming to see me at the time.
But today I decided I needed to schmooze and that it would be good for me emotionally, so at the end of the committee interview, I asked Mark if his invitation still stood.
He was grateful, as none of the professors wanted to come and he clearly wanted company.
We went to the Tower Deli, which has now moved to this side of University Drive.
I risked having a turkey on rye with slices of onion and tomato, and until late afternoon I had no stomach distress.
But I’m still having heartburn and GERD, so tomorrow I need to convince Dr. Frank to give me a new prescription for Prevacid.
Over lunch, Marc, Michael and I talked about legal education, life in Cincinnati and other stuff.
I think I impressed Marc when Michael was talking about a trademark infringement suit simulation he’d done that involved a taco restaurant, and I asked him if he’d taken that from the famous taco restaurant trade dress case.
It turned out that Marc teaches that case in Intellectual Property, and he was surprised I was so familiar with it.
Michael’s one published article was about the Dormant Commerce Clause and a state trying to regulate an internet casino, and I asked him a question about it.
Anyway, during lunch I learned more about Marc, including that he’s in a long-distance relationship with a woman in Arizona who is a lawyer for an Indian tribe.
When I mentioned that I was using some of my work time this summer to prepare for the bar exam, Marc was surprised because he had assumed that my job as ARP director was not a twelve-month position.
As I said, I felt pretty good today until I came home at 4:30 PM and ate my veggies.
After that, I got that tight, hunger-like pain, and my buttock started to bother me, so I took Vioxx and Skelaxin, which I’d skipped earlier in the day.
I went into the whirlpool for about ten minutes, resting my buttocks against the water jets, and right now I hardly have any pins-and-needles feelings there or in my legs.
I guess this has been a good week so far.
Friday, April 26, 2002
7:30 PM. Everyone I know with experience taking Prevacid, like Celeste, tells me that it’s a miracle drug, but at 30 mg, I still have the burning in my stomach.
Last night I had severe heartburn and couldn’t sleep. Maybe I need to see a gastroenterologist. Or maybe this is all psychosomatic.
On Wednesday, when I was feeling well, I didn’t have any stomach pain even after eating verboten foods at the Tower Deli.
I called Ross and canceled out on tonight’s dinner. Dr. K will shake his head when I tell this to him tomorrow, but I couldn’t force myself to go out.
I know that it’s not good for me to be alone, but I also know how I feel right now. When I’m ready, I will.
During the day I’ve had lots of interactions – in person, on the phone, and online with friends and acquaintances – and now part of me wants to be alone.
I have a bunch of meetings next week: Billie Jo wants to discuss the pamphlet for orientation and additional stuff on Monday and Tuesday at 11 AM.
Joe called a meeting on his plan for bar exam prep. Pat said I should take this opportunity to ask Joe for an assistant and other additional resources – which I’ll need, as “you’ll be responsible for this.” That terrifies me.
I told Pat that I myself am nervous about taking the bar exam, and she said, “Don’t be nervous. Of course you’ll pass.” I guess.
Tonight when I got home, I stopped my New York Times home delivery as of a week from next Sunday. It’s getting to be too much to read if I have to study for the bar exam.
Although Pat thought that I would just take two weeks off before the bar exam to study, I want to go to BarBri classes, and I’ve got to assume that experiencing what our graduates do will help me in my job.
This morning Carmen, a 1L who’s back after a year’s leave of absence – she got three B’s and a C+ in LSV her first semester – came in and said she’s panicking about Brown’s Property exam on Monday.
From listening to the PMBR tape as I fell asleep last night, I could tell her that Property is the hardest subject because it’s got so many elements, but they all can be organized into seven categories. Perhaps what I said helped her.
I got a thank-you card in the mail from Kathy, a student from Canada admitted for the fall, whom I spoke to over the phone the other day.
Today I spoke with other students after their Con Law final; Yvette and Joanne, who came in to thank me for my help; and George, who brought along Burris’s take-home Con Law exam, which he said he finished after 24 hours without any sleep.
Stressed out as I am, I have to empathize with the students. After all, they feel they have just as much at stake in their exams as I do in whatever it is I make myself anxious about.
Sat Darshan said that I may fantasize about being in the safety of Apache Junction, “but there you’d be anxious about money and a job and growing frustration with the insanity at your family’s house.” I suppose she’s right.
I do plan on getting to Arizona in December.
I think about the lyrics in the chorus of the Grandaddy song “Miner at the Dial-a-View,” on the mixtape Vincent sent me: “I know it’s gonna take some time / I’m going home someday.” Yes, I know they’re not profound.
Joanne, talking about her exams, said, “At some point I just let go and put it in God’s hands.”
And I said, “Yeah, you have to do that.”
I find that after all I’ve gone through in the last two years, my atheist beliefs are beginning to be shaken. Maybe I’m becoming weaker and I need God when I didn’t before.
Hell, I’m embarrassed to say that I’ve suffered when I compare what my life has been to other people’s real tragedies or the tragedies that will probably befall me in the future.
My parents are probably going to die before I do. I need to be so grateful that I can dial 1-480-474-8070 and hear the voices of my mother and father.
Dad didn’t tell me he was on an antibiotic after China bit him. Aunt Sydelle was the one who mentioned it when I called her from work.
I also called Teresa. Tomorrow is her 50th birthday, and they’re all going to that restaurant in downtown Glen Cove where they celebrated Jade’s graduation.
Tonight they have Diane’s niece’s wedding at the Chelsea Piers. Diane herself wrote to me that the Jewish/Italian wedding will have 300 guests.
Diane’s closing on the Woodstock house is scheduled for Tuesday. Although she plans to spend a lot of time at the beach this summer, she’s worried that she’ll be lonely in the country in the snows of next winter.
Anyway, Teresa said I sounded good, which proves only that I can fake it. Or maybe I’m not so bad. I guess I’ve been toughened by everything that has happened to me in the two months since Teresa and Diane were here.
Well, I’ve survived with a little help from my friends, my doctors, and maybe God.
Only God knows what the next three months will bring. Perhaps after the bar exam is over, I’ll feel more relaxed – but soon after that I’ll be going right into orientation and then the fall semester.
I can see I’m not really going to catch my breath until December. That’s seven months from now.
Patrick didn’t learn much new when he saw his cardiologist today; he has a stress test coming up to see if the angioplasty worked, and he still has to face doing something about the carotid artery.
Patrick read Eating at Arby’s to his class today, and he told me I definitely need to publish a 20th-anniversary edition. He said that when he brought P’an Ku to his printer, he’d ask the guy there how much he would charge me to do it.
Vincent wrote that my last letter “helped lift my spirits a little. I was in a dump, and to an extent, I still am – adjusting to the new schedule when I have less and less time for myself. I’m starting to give a little less to people, which helps alleviate some of my resentment. We’ll see how it all pans out. The money is helping, at least.”
Vincent went on to relate how a man exposed himself to him in the street last week and later walked into the coffeehouse where he works.
He also told me that at the funeral of a relative, his horrible cousin came up to him and said he couldn’t get past page 40 of Vincent’s novel, and Vincent could only say, “Yeah, well, a lot of people tell me that.”
He does sound better, though. I love him.
In the afternoon, I walked over to the Parker Building, and I got a big hug from Maria, who is now the administrative assistant in the Social and Behavioral Sciences division. I saw her kids, who have gotten so big.
Then I went into the liberal arts division to see Ben Mulvey and say hi. Maybe next winter I can teach an undergraduate course as an adjunct.
Look at all the people in my life. For a lonely guy, I certainly have a lot of people who seem to care about me and whom I care about – from Aunt Sydelle and Vincent to Teresa and Paul, Diane and Celeste, to Patrick and Mark B, to Sat Darshan, Ronna and Matthew, and Libby and Grant.
While I was in the Parker Building, I saw Jim Doan, who’s happy because he’s in a new relationship with a guy.
You know, tears are coming to my eyes as I write this. I can’t be a bad guy if so many people care about me.
I tried to call Shane, the guy who answered my Yahoo ad, but I just left a message.
Today’s New York Times reviewed the new acquisitions display at the Berg Collection at the New York Public Library.
Oh, I miss Lola Szladits. And Alan Cooper. And my grandparents. Hey, maybe when I’m dead, there’ll be someone who’ll miss me.
Not that I expect that anything I own or have written will end up in the Berg Collection – though Lola did once put her copy of Lincoln’s Doctor’s Dog into an exhibit.
Well, now I’m going to watch the rest of Red Sorghum, Zhang Yimou’s film.
Saturday, April 27, 2002
9 PM. I enjoyed watching Red Sorghum last night. And I just finished watching Shall We Dance?, a wonderful Japanese film.
Both evenings I hugged the big stuffed lion and my little Valentine’s Day teddy bear. Hey, that’s not pathetic; it’s endearing.
Last night, without heartburn, I slept pretty well, but I felt particularly anxious this morning. Dr. Koncsol again explained that it’s because sleep and lack of food deplete all my serotonin.
That’s especially true now that I don’t snack in the evening and then have to wait until after I take my Prevacid to eat in the morning.
But I stayed anxious after I ate, and then, damning the acid reflux, I went back to bed using my prop-up pillow for a couple of hours as I listened again to the good advice on The Worrywart’s Companion tape.
At 9 AM, I exercised and then rushed to shower and dress, and after dropping some slacks off at the cleaners, I had my 10:30 AM massage with Angela.
She said I was very tight – not so much my sciatic nerve, which is lower, but other muscles of my lower and upper back.
Then I realized that maybe I’m holding in my abdominal muscles and causing the ache in my stomach.
I like Angela; she graduated from Nova’s Bachelor of Professional Management program and works full-time at American Express. We talked about films and Steinbeck and other stuff. Going for a massage is sort of like going to therapy.
Dr. K asked me when we started, “So was this week better?”
“Not really,” I said, and he replied, “Your sciatica was better, but your GERD was worse.”
“How did you know that?”
“Because I’m a psychologist.”
“But you’re not a psychic.”
And he put on a Viennese accent and explained it as if he were Freud.
I told him I was such a worrywart that when I saw the mail carrier come into his outer office, I thought that she had a letter from my HMO saying I couldn’t see Dr. K anymore.
As it turns out, I have only one session left on my six-session package, and he’s going to take a couple of weeks to see how to get more sessions.
Two weeks from today is Barry University’s graduation, so I made an appointment for Thursday, May 9, at 6 PM.
That might be my last session, but I’m going to try not to worry about it. I think I can get by; at least, I’ve had the six sessions, and they’ve helped.
Last night in bed I was wondering, “Am I going to make it?” And tonight I feel the answer is going to be “Yes.”
Watching the movie just now, the thought came to me: “You’ve built a life for yourself here.”
It was 2 PM when I left the Psych Team’s office and headed for Barnes & Noble, where I got a plain bagel and water and read the New York Times. I’m going to miss that newspaper.
Then, at my office, I got my email. Josh asked if I knew Lily Brett’s address to give to Gabrielle, who loves her books.
Although I didn’t know who Lily Brett was, I saw online that she’s a poet and author, and after learning her husband’s name, I found their Soho and Shelter Island addresses in the Lexis Assets library.
Shane thanked me for calling him and said he’s been busy working and spending time with his mother, who’s in hospice care.
And Neo (like the Keanu Reeves character in The Matrix – his first name is Naotake) replied to my reply to his ad.
He seems very sweet, and as with Thien, I found his slight problems with English endearing. Neo is from Tokyo, and he’s a Miami-based flight attendant for American Airlines. He’s working this weekend, but I gave him my home phone number.
I’m sure nothing will come of anything with Neo or Shane, but someday I will meet someone again.
I did about 20 PMBR questions in Con Law and got about half of them right. Not good, but I haven’t begun studying yet.
Well, today may be as good as I can hope for myself.
Monday, April 29, 2002
9 PM. If I weren’t facing the bar exam, I’d be getting comfortable in my position as ARP director. I have over three months to plan for next year, and by August I will probably no longer be as unsure of myself as I have been. But the bar exam changes everything.
Billie Jo and Pat want me to do a bar exam page with web links in addition to the packets of print and other resources they’ll be handing out at commencement. I read several books about the bar exam today, and all of them said not to work while studying if you can avoid it. So I’m scared.
There’s so much material to learn, and the test is important. I guess I understand how graduates and first-year law students feel. I don’t recall exactly why I decided not to take the bar exam eight years ago when I graduated from UF, but I’m sure that fear played a big role.
I had no money, but I still could have borrowed money to take a bar review course and prepare for the exam. Instead, I taught summer school at Santa Fe Community College and went through a crisis, first thinking I’d move to Tampa and go to library school at USF, and I took their graduate Library course offered in Gainesville as well.
Let’s face it, it’s been a matter of avoidance. It’s just that I could avoid it in 1994, and I can’t now. But this gives me a choice to go through this grueling rite of passage.
Because I’m a perfectionist and a high achiever, I’m scared that I won’t pass. Just as I got nervous on law school exams even though I told myself that my first-year grades didn’t matter for me, they did.
The books I’ve read say it’s normal to feel stress and anxiety and even have the occasional panic attack. I know that I’m going to have to juggle things or prep while doing my job at NSU. I dread missing out on all the fun stuff in my life.
Plus, I’ll miss that week when I’ll be in Seattle. Today I called LSAC, and they made flight reservations for me.
Maybe it’s the Triavil and the 0.25 mg of Klonopin I took earlier, but now I’m feeling calmer.
Look, I’m starting my studying early. The more I prepare, the less overwhelmed I will feel. I did 40 PMBR Con Law questions this evening without studying the outline, and I got 60% of them right. So I can almost achieve a passing grade of about 65% in Con Law on the Multistate Bar Exam without studying, and that’s good.
Of course, Constitutional Law is my best subject. But I also studied the PLI section on Contracts at work this afternoon, and I listened to the PMBR Contracts tape this morning and evening.
What I need to do in the next week for the PMBR six-day workshop is to review all the outlines of the six subjects on the Multistate, do essay questions, and start becoming familiar with the Florida portion of the exam.
Can I study ten hours a day? Not likely, but I’ll do the best I can, and if I fail the July exam, I’ll pass next February. I’ve got to be positive about this test. Just taking it will represent a fear I will have conquered. I don’t need to get an A or B; I just need to pass, and that’s a D.
It’s true that I’m at a disadvantage in that I never took some Florida bar exam subjects and because I forgot a lot from my first-year courses. On the Multistate, I’m especially worried about Contracts, Property and Evidence, and on the Florida bar, I’m worried about most everything.
Can I learn it all? Probably, or enough of it to pass. The one thing I noticed today was that the day went by quickly, and I didn’t spend much time on email.
This was probably the wrong time for me to place an ad in Yahoo Personals. I don’t really have time for a relationship. On the other hand, I’m already used to being alone a lot and living a monkish life, so I might easily adapt to Bar study.
The key is to avoid panic. Other people also get physical symptoms of stress, according to the books I’ve read. I did really well on law school exams, and I’ve always done well on standardized multiple-choice tests like the GRE and LSAT even without studying.
The bar exam is different, of course, but it’s not totally different, and I can learn what the differences are. I need to pace myself, and instead of becoming immobilized by anxiety, I need to use the anxiety the way I’ve always been using it: to spur me on to preparing.
I don’t know if I can make up a schedule like all the books and guides recommend, but I know I have some self-discipline. At least I once did. and I’m a good writer.
Well, maybe this is tiredness or Klonopin or Triavil talking, but this self-talk is calming me down. I hope I can see the exam in its proper perspective, not just now but for the next 13 weeks.