the celibate life
After a few minutes at the coffee shop, I realized that the couple sitting behind me was meeting for the first time, and that they had arranged this meeting over an Internet dating service. He mostly talked about his record collection; she talked about her cats. There's a neat parallelism there, but O it saddens me.
Google, what succour art thou for those people who, like your humble narrator, have neurotic needs to plan their lives years in advance. I have poked around and, soft economy notwithstanding, I shall chill out about the money. If I must, I will go back to Nevada for more litigation; if the litigation dries up and I have to go work for Kaplan or something, fine; but, Portland, I am putting you on notice. You have a year. If, at the end of that year, I decide that a) I love you; b) you love me; c) we are a happy family; then so much the better, and I will give thanks to merciful God. But if, at the end of that year or at any time thereafter, I should decide that these three conditions fail to obtain, then I am not stuck waiting around for the grad schools to start taking applications. ¡Qué no! I am on the Medication of Courage! Guatemala is of course a research trip, but I think it will also be a test run to see how I do in countries without broadband or potable water. If I manage my money like a smart monkey, why can't I pony up a grand, get TESOL certified, and go have a goddamn adventure?
