I've been working on this song for about twenty-four hours. It's not done by any means--this is the first time I'm posting a very, very rough demo here. The guitar tone sucks--I went directly into my input box rather than putting a mic in front of my amp. The singing is also rather lame. But the most noticeably lame part is the fact that the song doesn't really change or move--something that I abhor in songs. I had the distinct displeasure of catching the Eagles' "Lying Eyes" on the radio the other day. That song fucking sucks hard--it's fucking eight minutes of the exact same bullshit over and over. God, it's fucking terrible.

Anyway, this is under three minutes long. But it's just a demo, mostly for my own purposes so that I could get the lyrics and melody down. The real version will have much more going on, much more of a buildup, a full band, some distortion, probably a guitar solo and maybe even a chorus or two.

Anyway, I'd like input on anything you guys feel like giving me input on. For the record, here are the lyrics:

I will not be the tides again
You cannot be the moon
But I will be the mountain
If you will be the clouds

I will not be the orange leaves
You cannot be the wind
But I will be the shore
If you will be the water

I am not a growing tree
You cannot be the sun
But I will be the darkened sky
If you will be the shining stars

I will not be the lower ground
You cannot be torrential rain
But I will be the rolling hills
If you will bloom on me in spring

Untitled demo

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 12:44 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , The Lovers of Sight and Sound

I have to admit two things. First, I really liked "Beverly Hills," the lead single off of Weezer's last album, Make Believe. Second, I fucking hated the rest of the album. I was pretty much done with the whole band.

I mean, I guess I've already talked about what I think of each of Weezer's albums, so I won't rehash that. But the point is that I was somewhat sad but mostly relieved when I read that Weezer had broken up. And then I was cautiously excited but mostly apprehensive when I heard that they were actually releasing a new album. Then I sort of forgot about the whole thing until pH mentioned that the new song was out. Then she told me the title of the song--"Pork and Beans"--and I remembered why I had sworn to acknowledge Weezer's work only through Pinkerton.

Out of morbid curiosity, I looked up the video on Youtube. And what I found didn't suck. I mean, I think it's still far short of the awesomeness of songs like "Say it Ain't So" or "El Scorcho," for example, but it's clearly better than anything on Make Believe and is probably better than anything on Maladroit--I wouldn't know because I can't really remember any of the songs on that one.

And the video is just fucking awesome. Here it is:

I really like the Youtube all-stars angle, and it references not only really popular videos but ones that I think are fucking amazing. For example, the coolest referenced video is Ryan vs. Dorkman, I think. I don't know if any of you have seen it, but here it is:

It's essentially a fan-made lightsaber fight, but is clearly the best fan-made lightsaber fight ever--with the possible exception of Ryan vs. Dorkman 2. Simply put, the fight choreography in the video results in what is arguably the best lightsaber fight ever, even counting the ones in the real Star Wars movies. I mean, it's definitely got the fights in the Original Trilogy covered. I'd say that only the fight between Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, and Darth Maul rivals this one. Check it out:

Anyway, getting back to Weezer. I like the song a lot. The new album--"The Red Album"--will probably be a huge letdown, but at least this song's good. Still, maybe I'll be wrong and this'll be a return to form. I doubt it, but it's not like the band can do more to sully its once-good name.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 11:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Movie Reviews , Music Reviews , Rants on the News , Star Wars , Things I'm Irrationally Attached To

Flipping houses can be a lucrative endeavor. Unfortunately, it can also be extremely risky. The novice house-flipper should, therefore, be wary and keep several general things in mind. Remember, for example, not to get personally involved in your investment: you're not going to live there, don't design the house for yourself. Beyond that, there are a few specific and time-tested secrets a new flipper should keep in mind. Here's a short list. it is not exhaustive.

1. When in doubt, use travertine. Travertine offers the strength and versatility of marble and granite without the great expense. And it doesn't look too shabby, either. There really is no way to overuse travertine. From floors to countertops to walls to plumbing to light fixtures to electrical wiring, travertine can fulfill almost any aesthetic or functional role. An all-travertine house is, basically, the most perfect thing that man has ever conceived of, but flippers shouldn't attempt the all-travertine flip unless they're prepared to be literally buried under the unbelievable number of offers they'd receive. Of course, you should keep in mind that travertine tiles are going to need mortar, and there's no substance that works better as mortar than good ol' Parmesan cheese.
2. Whenever possible, use bank-vault doors. Bank-vault doors are the perfect combination of security, practicality, and elegance. They keep the bad guys out, keep the money in, and they can only be opened at predetermined times, so they're perfect for the typical suburban home or downtown condo. As with any good thing, there's no such thing as too many bank-vault doors. If you're wondering how many bank-vault doors your project needs, follow this simple formula: take the number of doors in the house and multiply it by sixteen. For the average four-bedroom, three-bathroom house, that works out to about 160 bank-vault doors.
3. Roast-beef curtains are the only way to go. What if you want to look out the window and you're hungry at the same time? A thoughtful--and successful--house-flipper will be able to anticipate those kinds of problems and solve them for a buyer before the buyer even knows what he needs. Roast-beef curtains are an economical way to solve just one of these problems, and it would be foolish for a smart flipper not to include this cheap yet effective option in their final product.
4. Where do bad folks go when they die? A lake of fire, of course! Moats may have been effective in the Middle Ages, but most sophisticated buyers in today's market realize that most people can swim. So buyers just aren't willing to pay huge premiums for conventional moats anymore. That's why the smart flipper knows that a lake of fire is an absolute flip must. Anyone can swim, but it's very unlikely that any given assailant will be fireproof, too.
5. If you get into the condo market, stay in the condo market. One of the biggest mistakes first-time condo flippers make is selling their condos. The reasons why this is a bad idea are too numerous to get into here, but the basic rule of thumb is that if you don't buy at least one condo every week, you're losing money. And every condo you sell represents an unmitigated failure in the flipping business. Of course, the most important reason to hold on to those condos indefinitely is that the modern American economy is clearly about to become condo based, just like the feudal system in Europe was based on land. So remember: the way to be successful is to buy--and keep--more condos than anyone else.
6. The Sauron-helmet house. Imagine you're driving down a beautiful residential street. to your left and right are beautiful houses in all styles. Then something amazing catches your eye: a house shaped like the helm of the Lord of the Rings himself. if you're a prospective home buyer, it's pretty clear which house you're going to pick, isn't it? No one can resist the simple, understated, refined beauty of a house shaped like the Dark Lord's helmet. And when that prospective buyer walks over the lake of fire on the drawbridge, through the front bank-vault doors and sees the beautifully appointed home--floor to ceiling travertine, roast-beef curtains, and deeds to condos strewn everywhere--they'll have no choice but to make you an offer.

As I said, this list is meant mostly for the first-time flipper as a guide--it's not exhaustive by any means. But the basic idea is to stay well within the conventional boundaries of taste and style while still being somewhat timeless. Vaulted ceilings might be "in" right now, but they might be tomorrow's shag carpeting, so they're a bit of a gamble. Some things--like roast-beef curtains--however, will never go out of style and appeal to a broad range of potential buyers.

Feel free to ask questions in the comments--I'm here to help, afterall. And, most importantly, good flippin'!

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 12:40 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)| Filed under Funny Shit

Apparently this is a three-day weekend. I had no idea that was the case until I was in court Friday and saw a little sign saying the courthouse would be closed on Monday. That's cool.

Anyway, because I had absolutely no idea that this was one of those weekends where we were supposed to do something fun and three-day long, I didn't have any real plans. But that hasn't seemed to stop me from having a great time, anyway.

On Friday, Bluebunny and a man I'll refer to as Peterr came up from Chicago and, despite my dire warnings earlier in the day, made some vague attempts to go to the Old Fashioned for dinner. Nine people, Friday night, a restaurant that doesn't take reservations. Yeah, it didn't happen. So we went to Brocach (pronounced like Tom Brokaw's last name) where, despite the fact that I was unanimously overruled about going to the Great Dane, everyone's dinner--except for Co-SME's--was awesome. Still, fuck Brocach and everyone who wanted to go there.

Then we went to the Plaza. I hadn't been to the Plaza in for-fucking-ever, and now I'm sad that I haven't because that bar--and their cheap, strong drinks--are awesome. Eventually, Co-SME and L-Dawg were down for the count, but not before some amazing things happened. Most notably was the suggestion for Mr. Vice and pH's first child. For a long time now, I have informed L-Dawg and X-tina that no matter what they actually name their first child--and regardless of its gender--I'm going to call it The Incredible Hulk [last name]. Any gift I ever get it will be Incredible Hulk-related and I'll say things like "Oh, little The Incredible Hulk, you're growing up so fast!" I can't wait. Well, L-Dawg came up with an even better name for pH and Vice's kid: Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Batman! Vice, or N.N.N.N.N.N.N.N. Batman Vice if it wants to do something H. Ross Perot-style with its name.

Anyway, everyone wussed out and we didn't make it down to the dock that night, which is total bullshit. But everyone had a good time and then got home safely, so all in all, it was a good night.

The next day, we took our sweet-ass time getting ready and then headed up to Devil's Lake. The best part about the whole thing was the communal shopping spree--I love shopping in groups. Anyway, we drove up, met up with Bluebunny, Peterr, and Johnny Utah, found a grill at an awesome location, played some croquet--which I lost miserably at--and just generally hung out and relaxed. Until it got cold, at which point we packed up our shit and left. We took a brief tour to the nearby law offices of Tapia & Vice, LLP, then headed back down to Madison where we called it a night due to the fact that everyone was fucking tired.

And now we're about to head to Bratfest. Later, we're going to watch the new Indiana Jones. I'm fairly certain it's gonna suck, but I'm mostly OK with that because I'm also fairly certain it'll be fun.

So there you go: plans are totally overrated.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 2:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Fun Shit I've Done , Funny Shit , Hanging Out With My Friends

I don't really believe in fate. I think the idea that certain things are meant to happen is laughable to me. I mean, if some things are meant to happen, then surely all things must be meant to happen--otherwise, how could the things that were meant to happen happen at all? You follow?

I'm not sure where I stand on God, but I reject out of hand the idea that if there is a God, he sat down a trillion years ago and decided that I would write this blog post and then misspell the word "blog" just now and have to backspace over it to fix my mistake. Seriously--I hope God's got more important shit to worry about.

And the idea of karma has always seemed similarly silly to me. I knew a girl in college who believe in karma and, therefore, never locked her bike up. She reasoned--if you can call it that--that since she didn't go around stealing bikes, karma would protect her bike. I couldn't help but make fun of her when she asked me for a ride and explained that her bike had been stolen.

No, I believe in free will. I believe that the mind is exempt from the mechanically deterministic nature of the physical universe. I believe that I can choose my own destiny--within reason, of course. I actually think the best statement of what fate is and isn't comes from the movie Can't Hardly Wait. Remember Jenna Elfman's stripper character? Here's what she said:

There is such a thing as fate, but it only takes you so far. Then it's up to you to make it happen.

Why am I talking about all of this? Frankly, because I think the universe screwed me and it owes me one.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 1:58 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Life Sucks Sometimes , Philosophical Rants

As you all probably know, I grew up in Arizona. Whether that constitutes the "West Coast" is open to debate, and I really don't care. But, in any event, I spent lots of time in Los Angeles when I was a kid, so I feel qualified to comment on various things about the region. For example, it fucking sucks. But, aside from that, it is clear to me that, at least compared to people from Los Angeles, people from Wisconsin are almost unbelievably nice.

Some of the people I love most are from L.A., but that doesn't change the fact that people from L.A. are about the fakest, most arrogant, most self-centered, most uncaring people I've ever met. Even the people I'm related to--people I know to be selfless and caring almost to a fault when it comes to their family members--are sometimes shockingly callous towards strangers. The difference between that attitude and the one that pervades Wisconsin is striking.

One of the places I first noticed it was at my local grocery store. When I first moved here, I was understandably confused about where everything in that store was. So I'd walk up and down the aisles with what must have been a look of obvious confusion on my face. And almost invariably, some employee would walk up to me and ask what I was looking for. This happened several times with several different people, from stock boys to branch managers. Anyway, every time I told them what I was trying to find, they said "follow me!" and lead me directly to what I needed. And they always started up a pleasant little conversation with me and wished me a good day. It was refreshing, frankly.

Of course, it's not just at the grocery store. It seems like everywhere I go, I'm surrounded by people who genuinely want, if not to help you, then at least to avoid hurting you. On our big road trip across America, this manifested itself in sort of a strange way. We had to ask for help at several points along the way, and as we drove East, people went from refusing to help to going out of their way to being extremely helpful--even to the point of apparently making up directions rather than telling us they couldn't help. I mean, yeah, that's fucked up, but their hearts were in the right place. Or something.

Anyway, based on my admittedly limited experience, I am completely confident in saying that anyone who claims that people from the West Coast are nicer than people from Wisconsin are stupid. Very, extremely stupid.

I'm just sayin'.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 12:05 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Funny Shit , Rants , Reviews

i think I've mentioned before that I think of myself as somewhat of a hopeless romantic. I believe in the power of love and all that stupid shit.

And so I reach this juncture: do I stay true to myself or do I change and be something I've never wanted to be?

God knows that being myself has never made things easy for me. In fact, it's almost certainly the case that being who I really am has made things much, much more difficult for me over the years, both professionally and emotionally. But at the same time, there certainly must be a difference between being myself and being a complete idiot. If a certain course of action has gotten me nothing but heartbreak and disappointment in the past, then certainly I shouldn't be in a rush to repeat that course of action, right?

I should, of course, choose the course of action that will result in the least pain. But what should I do if I look out across the landscape of the future and see nothing more than more of the same heartbreak and disappointment that's lead me to be where I am to begin with?

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 3:51 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Life Sucks Sometimes

Yes, I've been gone for a few days. Sorry about that. I'm back now and I won't take that much of an extended absence again.

In any event, there's not really anything to report. Just a tired and obvious analogy.

It's odd how, even when you see the bus coming at you, it still hurts when it hits you.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 10:41 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Life Sucks Sometimes

As I said before, one of my goals for the year is to get in front of people and play live music again. There are several obstacles to this sort of thing.

First of all, no one in their right mind would pay me to play at their establishment. Which means that I have to seek out open-mic nights. Which presents the second problem: unlike Flagstaff, I don't know of any open-mic nights at bars in Madison. I know that there are some at coffee shops or whatever, but fuck that. I need a bar atmosphere. So there's the first question for all of you who know more about the Madison bar scene than I do: what bar has an open-mic night?

The third and final problem is picking songs. I know that I for sure want to do "Born in the U.S.A." I've been working on a pretty decent version involving my guitar and digital loop pedal. I can set the loop to play the keyboard part and then I can play the rhythm part and, you know, sing. It's passable, although it doesn't rock nearly as much as the original. But it's still fun, I think.

So, anyway, that's one song. But I think I should have more. So, I'm asking for suggestions. I'll listen to pretty much any suggestion, regardless of genre, style, or artist.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 10:53 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)| Filed under Existential Nonsense

Yes, today was Mother's Day. I called my mom at about 7pm local time, and the first thing she said was "Son, I thought you had forgotten about me!"

Of course, I hadn't forgotten about my mom. I don't see how I ever could.

I think I've written before about how when I was a little kid I saved up for a long time--well, what seemed like a long time, anyway--to have enough money to buy this giant Lego pirate ship. I couldn't wait to get it, so when I finally had the roughly $100 that it was going to cost, I asked my mom to take me down to the K-Mart so that I could buy it. She did. And I looked all over the fucking place. But it wasn't in stock anymore. So we went to Wal-Mart. They didn't have it, either. So my mom drove me to every fucking retail store within a forty-mile radius just to see if we could find that thing.

More recently, I asked for an iPod for Christmas. My mom knows next to nothing about technology and absolutely nothing about MP3 players, so when my family explained to her what an iPod is--a $400 device that holds days worth of music--she figured it was something rather gigantic. So she went out to her car and started emptying out the trunk. "What are you doing?" my family asked her. And she explained that I had asked for this iPod thing, so she had to make room for it in the car. I remember hearing about her facial expression when she went to the Best Buy, asked for an iPod, and was handed an eight-inch cube. She kept staring at it and wondering where the rest of it was.

There are several points to these stories, I guess. The first is that I'm a spoiled brat. The second is that my mom can be sort of funny. But the thing that means the most to me about them is that they show that my mom's always, always given me everything I needed--and the vast majority of the things I wanted.

But those stories are about how she gave me things, and things don't really matter. She gave me much more than all that. When I was accused of threatening to kill someone, it was my mom that stood by me. When I decided to go to law school, it was my mom that supported the decision and defended it to various people who thought I had had enough school. When I felt like shit because I couldn't find a job, it was my mom that encouraged my somewhat frightening decision to start my own business. Which, I guess, isn't so surprising given that she owned her own business for years and years. My mom made millions of sacrifices so that I could be where I am and she never--not once--made me feel like she resented me for it.

Someday I hope I'll have kids of my own. And I can't wait for my mom to be their grandmother. But, more importantly, I hope that I can be half the parent she is.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 12:01 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Funny Shit

I remember the first time I heard The Smashing Pumpkins' "Disarm."

I had recently fallen head over heels for Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness, but I had yet to venture out and explore more of the Pumpkins' work. This was due partly to the fact that I was afraid of being disappointed but also because I didn't know what else they had done--I was completely new to the whole "listening to music" thing. Still, my friend Kenny--who had introduced me to the Pumpkins to begin with--kept mentioning another album the Pumpkins had done that had some awesome songs on it. He also mentioned that one of those songs had a video where some kids built a spaceship, went to another planet, and found Billy and crew playing there. I was intrigued.

Still, the actual album kept eluding me until one day Kenny produced his sister's old cassette version of Siamese Dream. I remember standing in Kenny's family's living room with Kenny and my other friend Luis as Kenny put the tape in and queued up first "Rocket" and then "Disarm." I remember that the stereo was really crappy and the tape was very old and worn so the songs were hard to hear clearly, but I remember being transfixed again. "I used to be a little boy so old in my shoes, what I choose is my voice. What's a boy supposed to do? Killer in me is the killer in you. Send a smile over to you." I fell in love with the band all over again.

Eventually, Siamese Dream would become my clear favorite Pumpkins album. In terms of straight-ahead rock and emotional content, it is approached only by Pisces Iscariot. And while Mellon Collie might have a higher number of unbelievable songs, Siamese Dream has a higher amazing-to-not-amazing ratio.

Anyway, I have a perfect memory of the first time I heard "Disarm," and I have a feeling that I'm going to remember the latest time I heard the song for a very, very long time, too.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 1:37 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Music Reviews , The Smashing Pumpkins

I assume that most bloggers are like me in exactly one respect: they all have unspoken rules for how they run their blog. This blog is a highly personal thing, so I try to maintain some sort of consistency, even though I doubt that anyone realizes that I do or don't do certain things, mostly because they're such strange things. One of these things, for example, is that I generally try to refer to people by the proper honorific and their last name. Sometimes--like when I get tired of writing "Mr." or determine that a certain combination ("Mr. Obama") just doesn't sound right repeated over and over--I don't do it. But I try, especially when discussing lesser-known people.

As strange as it might seem, I also try to keep the whining to a minimum. I leave it to you to draw your own conclusions about how much I would whine if this rule wasn't in place. My point, though, is that I try not to write more than one or two depressing posts in a row, even if I'm sad for more than a few days. Besides, it's usually pretty fun to write a rant or a silly post in the middle of being depressed.

I also try to make sure that every post has a title (there's only been one exception to that rule) and that each post's title is completely unique. That's lead me to kick myself a few times when I got way too excited about a certain quote and used it as a title then later found that the quote was much, much more appropriate for another post.

Anyway, I also have these stupid sort of general guidelines for what sort of post a certain day calls for. I generally try to avoid posting about news items that are over-exposed unless I'm really excited about the thing or I think I--or you--can say something funny or unique about the thing. My latest political post fell into all of those categories. Anyway, just like the depressing topics, I try not to dwell on politics too much.

But here's the thing, and the reason that I started this post to begin with. I, like everyone I know, am hoping that Hillary Clinton pulls her head out of her self-important ass and gets the fuck out of this race. But everyone in the world is talking about that, and I just had that political post. And I don't really have anything new or funny to say. So my self-imposed rules prohibit me from dedicating a post to that topic. So I've dodged the rule by creating a post about the rules I follow for posting and only mentioning that whole thing with Ms. Clinton as an example.

But here's the kicker. As it turns out, someone has already said something pretty funny about the whole thing. So, via Wil Wheaton's blog, I give you Hillary Clinton: The Psycho Ex-Girlfriend of the Democratic Party.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 11:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Funny Shit , General Remarks , Political Rants , Rants on the News

I wasn't really in a bad mood after yesterday, but I was definitely frustrated at the way things go sometimes.

In terms of frustration and annoyance, then, today was a much better day. Things went really well in some respects, so I was really pleased with that.

But then I got home and I decided to go for a walk right at dusk. My house is sort of close to a highway, and when I walk I usually end up walking down the frontage road, over the highway, and then down the frontage road the other way. But today I decided not to go that way and walked down a residential street I've never walked down before. It was sort of awesome.

There were little kids playing in the dwindling light and families sitting on their porches talking and eating and whatever. And then, as it got darker, lights started going on in living rooms as people sat down to watch the news or whatever the fuck is on TV on Monday nights.

Then I walked down past an elementary school around here. And I saw that their playground had those lame plastic slides and playsets in it. And then I remembered how much better those things had been when we were kids. I remember we had a huge slide that was at least as tall as three fourth graders. And it was made of metal and wood. It was dangerous as hell, I'm sure. When I started getting a little older, I remember that the safer, lamer playground equipment of today started to become pervasive. And I was pissed and disappointed.

Anyway, I was walking past this playground and seeing their slide made me remember how awesome the slide at my elementary school was. And I flashed back on going down that thing with wax paper under your butt so you'd go faster and throwing paper airplanes from the top of it because that was the highest place you could get to. And playing tag all around it. And standing under the platform and having super-deep conversations.

All those things put me in a damned good mood. Just thought I'd share in case any of you out there thought I was only capable of anger and sadness.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 11:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Fun Shit I've Done

After we sold that house, we got a bunch of congratulations. One of the people that congratulated us mentioned that we should be happy about the victories we get because those of us in our line of work don't get to win very much. I knew what she meant, but I think I didn't really understand it until today.

See, I never expected to end up doing criminal-defense work. In fact, I usually gave this kind of work as a specific example of things I didn't want to do. The whole thing seemed unsavory, you know? I mean, intellectually, I know that every single accused criminal deserves to have every single one of their rights, as trivial as they seem, protected vigorously and zealously. But it's another thing entirely when the person is accused of something truly heinous and you're the person who has to protect their rights. The whole thing boiled down to the fact that I wasn't sure that I could--or that I would enjoy--helping bad people get away with doing bad things.

But that's not what I do. I protect my clients' interests and I make sure, to the best of my abilities, that they get justice. Getting justice and avoiding consequences are not the same thing. And I've been surprised how many of my clients are less interested in avoiding any sort of consequence than making sure that the sentence they get is fair for what they did. At the end of the day, very few of my clients are unsavory, and the ones that are unmitigated bad people are in the extreme minority.

For the most part, my clients are surprisingly normal people that have made astoundingly bad decisions. They are culpable, certainly, but they're still human. And that's what makes this thing hard sometimes.

There are times when, no matter how hard you try, no matter how much you prepare, no matter how articulately you argue, no matter how unjust some result might seem, you cannot avoid it. And then you have to look your client in the eye and apologize to them because you both know that the result is unjust.

So after today, I think I have some vague understanding about why that fellow attorney made such a big deal out of our relatively small victory. And, sadly, I know what the vast majority of this career is going to be like.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 10:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Life Sucks Sometimes , The Law Firm

I spent this weekend doing nothing. I played video games, I watched TV, I cooked, I played guitar, I sat around. I did nothing. And, for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel guilty about it.

See, law school filled me with this sense that every single second could be better spent doing something other than what I wanted to do. If I wasn't reading, outlining, reviewing, or stressing, I was behind the curve. That's how it felt, at least. Even though my personal life--what little there was of it--wasn't particularly stressful during law school, those three years were definitely the most stressful time of my life. I'm not necessarily saying that that's a bad thing, I'm just saying that's the way it is. And, after three years of having nonstop stress permeate your entire existence, it's very strange to wake up one morning and have almost exactly no demands on your time.

The problem was compounded for me by the fact that the end of law school and the end of my stress didn't coincide. I didn't have a high-paying job to look forward to and, for far longer than I would have liked, I didn't have any job to look forward to at all. So for months, even my "free" time was tainted by the fact that I should have been looking and applying for jobs every single second. So of course I felt guilty every second I wasn't doing that. But all that nonsense is behind me. It's all fucking over. I woke up Saturday morning with the knowledge that the day was completely mine. I woke up this morning with the knowledge that, while there were some things I had to do and others I should do, the majority of the day was mine to do with as I pleased. I simply cannot explain what an awesome feeling that is.

Knowing what I know now, I still would have chosen, four years ago at that intersection, to go to law school. But it's still awesome to be done with it all. And I think it says something about law school that it's taken me almost a whole year to really, truly be done with it.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 11:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Law School , The Law Firm