Thursday, November 15, 2007

The Doctor Will See You Now: Please Find a Spot On the Couch...

Law school fuckin' sucks, dude.
The Other Grad: I can't WAIT for this quarter to be over. I bet your life is turning into a lot of fun right now too...
Nobody: it blows fat monkey chunks. Got publicly mocked twice this week.

: shitefucker. (I'm listening, and also providing you with fun facts...such as "maderchod" is hindustani for "motherfucker:)
: So much to do, and none of it is done. Am chronically underprepared, so law school is ah-fucking-mazing.


Nobody: I sort of miss mocking student papers with you
TOG: sigh me too
Nobody: You'll get through though.
So are you going to wrap up this spring, or next year, or what?
TOG: hopefully this spring. please god, please god. I'm trying not to drop out of school before completing my masters, which I want to do every day
Nobody: You'll hate yourself later for it. Plus, a masters is so much more socially acceptable than either a Phd or a drop out
TOG: Mostly, I've decided that graduate school is just one giant, cruel, weeding out process. And has, finally, driven me to therapy. Literally. Which, while interesting, has yet to be useful.
Nobody: Hahaha. Y
ou are so entirely right on
TOG: yeah. Did you know that I use humor and sarcasm as a defense mechanism to defend myself against emotional neglect or rejection?
Nobody: YOU?
: check, check, aaaaand check
Nobody: No. Not a bit....We should be our own support group
No, really.
: you seem to turn everything into a joke. We've been talking about things that are actually sad and not funny at all, and yet you've been laughing and cracking jokes the whole time.

: well, yes. It's what I do.

: your homework for friday is to cry

: ahahahhaha oh my god, its like every serious conversation I've ever had. Wtf, therapist

: cry cry?! like, really cry?

yes. Does that make you uncomfortable?
: I'm not a crier. It's messy. And, a little weird.
ah...should we talk about that?
: oooh...let's!

I sense sarcasm.

...Yeah. I almost feel bad, because he's a nice man...but really, I just want him to give me some drugs and leave me to my emotional wasteland.

Nobody: Oh honey. People clearly don't understand how very acceptable and fun our coping mechanisms are.

TOG: yes. in 30 minutes we established that my father is responsible for my inability to let other people connect with me on an emotional level. So? SO? Who the fuck CAN'T blame one of their parents for neurotic coping mechanisms?
Nobody: So he's read Freud, too, apparently.
TOG: So. In the meantime, I get to be passive aggressive and snarky and make inappropriate oohing and aahing noises when a deep psychological revelation comes my way.
TOG: ...and...I get to "listen quietly to my needs."
People, like infants, have different cries for different needs, you need to listen and learn what you are crying for and how you cry out.

me (again)
: therapy sounds wet
...on the upside, he's dealing admirably with the snarky.
Nobody: Strong man. I think you can probably break him.
TOG: Indeed. Yoda-esque even.
Nobody: I have faith in you. Force him into the kind of life-altering self reflection you have to face in yourself every day. Its clearly been a while since grad school for him. He misses it.

TOG: yes...because the force is strong in this one. Yoda's going down!

Grad School: more fun than a barrel of monkeys! Watch your back, world.


All rights reserved to my snotty and generally self-deprecating writing. And if your comments bother me, I'll delete them. That's right, pumpkin.
...How dreary—to be—Somebody!
How public—like a Frog—
To tell one's name—the livelong June—
To an admiring Bog!
-- Emily Dickinson