One More Writer

It was past 10 o'clock when I left the dance hall tonight, street lights casting long shadows in the road as I made my way back home.

I took the moped - which I just purchased today - and enjoyed the putt puttt putt sound as I raced through the night at blazing speeds of 25 or even 30 miles per hour.

The moped doesn't have a name yet. If you have an idea what I should call a tiny blue contraption that's part motorcycle (the handlebar part) and mostly Eurotrash vintage bicycle (the twin baskets on the back, the lack of any significant speed, the clown horn on the front) then leave me a comment.

Home is three miles south of Willamette Law School in Salem. There are a few hills to get from point A to point B - I know this because it's an effort to get up each and every one of them on my gutless, glorious motorcontraption.

You might ask yourself, "Brook, why did you purchase a moped?" I blame my new roommate, Tyson, who spotted the vehicle last week with a For Sale sign attached. He tried it, he liked it. I tried it, didn't like it, tried it again and loved it. We're splitting it. I think he gets it on weekends and I get it during the week, but we might work out a different arrangement if necessary. If I need to, I can use my newfound lawyering to win a custody battle, although it might cause some difficulty on the homefront.

Life in Salem is turning out OK. I made the move last Monday, packing my belongings up in a U-Haul and heading north. The new house is a four bedroom. One roommate, Jerome, is a fellow first-year at Willamette, while Tyson is a substitute teacher and motivational speaker (go figure). The elusive fourth roommate is my landlady, a visiting care nurse who's always somewhere that's not Salem. Works for me, as my room adjoins the master bathroom. Oh, and it has hardwood floors plus a sliding glass door to the fenced yard out back. Did I mention the kitchen is great and there's a fireplace in the anteroom?

Law school is, well, exciting and slightly terrifying. I haven't gotten more than 5 hours of sleep in a night since orientation started last Wednesday. And here I am, writing at 2:30 instead of sleeping, even though I have to get up in four hours. The best thing about school is most my professors are awesome. One is the former dean of the school and a pro tem judge. He spends most the class asking us questions and responding with another question when we answer the first. This is allegedly called the Socratic method in honor of ol' Socrates himself, but I'd like to point out the latter killed himself by ingesting hemlock. Maybe that's what you feel like doing if you've always asking questions instead of giving answers. Another professor is a former running back for Penn State who gave up football for ballet because he concluded they were better athletes. Go figure.

The students at school are wonderful. Almost everyone is friendly, and I've already made some good buddies for the year. Coursework requires us to do about 3 - 5 hours of reading a day. I got ahead Monday but that gave me a false sense of security and I fear I've turned into a bit of a slacker today.

On the dating front, things are still unsatisfying. I've been on dates with five women since Lillian. I've really connected with one that I didn't expect to, and another one is going to make a great friend and perhaps more. But I still love Lilly. I don't know what can possibly change that, or what I can do to open my heart up again - or whether I even want to. I know these things take time but it seems different this time around ... I have a fear I'll wake up and tomorrow I'll be 35, single and still fighting the urge to call her or write her a letter. I thought that meeting other people would change that. Maybe it will but I'm impatient, dammit. Maybe I should give it up for a while and focus exclusively on God. I'm trying, but it's difficult, and try as I might, people seem to be a better remedy for loneliness than fellowship with God. Wish it wasn't so.