three follow-up remarks

There are three follow-up comments to my most recent blog post:

(1)  I did not win the lottery.  In a going forward manner, for future posts, just assume I did not win the lottery unless I inform you otherwise.

(2) Upon further reflection, we would probably have to take our chances with the bed bugs.

(3) My cousin and his wife had their baby yesterday at 10 am on 10-10-10.  This cool birthday might actually outdo my cool birthday.  As much as I hate to be outdone, welcome to the club Izzy!

canal day + 1

an unsettling start to the day.

I walked outside of my building this morning to see a "Terminex" truck parked outside.  It's scary that me needing to call an exterminator would first require winning the lottery*.  If anyone in our building has bed bugs we're moving into my boyfriend's parents' basement. 

*For those of you following along at home, my numbers this week are:  05 06 28 38 54 (PB: 11).  I'm thrilled that my Powerball is 11.  My birthday is 8/3/83 (only THE coolest birthday that year), and if my Powerball number can't be 3, I'll take 11 because 8+3=11.  I'm totally going to win this week.

i see a theme.

I'm doing a little housekeeping by finishing the blogs I had started over the last couple weeks and, for whatever reason, didn't finish.  I'm struck by how funny this one is given the "dolla dolla bills ya'll" post (started a week or so ago and also finished today... can you tell it's Friday afternoon?).

The original title for this post was "Sunday afternoon sesh," and I had planned on writing about how easily the characters were developing themselves.  Instead, I wrote about the lottery:

Sunday Afternoon Sesh
"... I just sat down to (finally) write for the weekend... and the first thing I did was check the clock, because that's what we lawyers do before we begin working on project.  Maybe for comparison's sake, I should keep track of the time I spend writing a book.  That way I can do an actual cost-benefit analysis when the time actually (hopefully) comes to transition from being a lawyer into being a writer.

So, I didn't win the Powerball last night.  I've only recently started playing the lottery.  That's how I know I need a change in my life.  I'm playing the lottery.  Regularly.  And what's worse... I can't check the winning numbers without having a couple glasses of wine first.  Now, I'm a very rational, reasonable person.  I know the odds.  I know I'm probably not going to win.  (What's funny here is that I originally wrote "I know I'm not going to win,"  but then I deleted that, and added "probably.")  But for some reason, when it comes to actually checking the winning numbers, there's a part of me that allows myself to be convinced that I won.  You know why?  Because something's gotta give.  So it might as well be winning the lottery.  Right?  Well, I didn't win.  But I did get two of the numbers, which was enough to make my heart stop momentarily and also ensure that I buy two tickets again next week."

dolla dolla bills y'all

I want to begin by saying I voted for Obama, and if I had to do it over again, I would, if for no reason other than the Income Based Repayment program (http://www.ibrinfo.org/what.vp.html#eligible).  However, when it comes to other fiscal matters (ie. taxes), I often find myself agreeing more "conservative/right-wing/republican" individuals (note: I did not use the term "politicians.").

As such, I thoroughly enjoyed this article:
http://abovethelaw.com/2010/09/earning-250000-does-not-make-you-rich-not-in-my-town/

I laughed out loud at the line: "We're middle class.  That's what middle class people do: live as far above their means as possible until it becomes impossible. And then we play the lotto like everyone else."

This comment rang especially true for me.  A co-worker (another lawyer... with 9 years of experience and resentment more than I have) and I regularly leave the office to go downstairs to the 7-Eleven (yes, there's a 7-Eleven in our building... don't judge) and buy lottery tickets.  He always tell me it's the best five minutes of his week because for that time, he lets his mind run away with the possibility of never having to worry about money ever again.  When he first let me in on his secret getaways, I laughed and suggested he try yoga instead.  But now, a year into my "occupation" (see side bar), we go together.

I can't help but relate to Ben Affleck's character in Good Will Hunting:
Chuckie:  Every day I come by your house and I pick you up. And we go out. We have a few drinks, and a few laughs, and it's great. But you know what the best part of my day is? For about ten seconds, from when I pull up to the curb and when I get to your door, 'cause I think, maybe I'll get up there and I'll knock on the door and you won't be there. No goodbye. No see you later. No nothing. You just left. I don't know much, but I know that.

It turns out, my co-worker was right.  We take the elevator down to the 7-Eleven.  We quietly wait in line to buy our tickets.  We scan our issued tickets, taking note of the powerball number.  We let ourselves get carried away in the "what if's," and for those five exhilarating minutes, all is right with the world.