One More Writer

The first real rain came pouring down at Willamette today, big fat drops hitting the pavement as I peered from a dry overhang outside the school's gym. I love the rain. I love fall. And here at law school, I've realized, I'm happy again.

I honestly don't remember the last time I was happy. Probably January of 2004. Before that, January of 2000. It seems to me I'm only truly satisfied with life, confident in my direction and God's purpose and content with my circumstances, in those moments where I'm single and making a legitimate attempt to put God first in my life.

That's not to say my ambition is to be single. The last four weeks have been a comedy of errors, as I meet interesting women at law school or wherever and, sometime through the first "date", find that they're taken or otherwise tragically incapable of carrying through with a standard date. For instance, take this 22-year-old I met through Craigslist. We sent back half a dozen e-mails, had a great rapport going, decide to meet at the dog park in Salem and I get there only to find that she's brought along her 15 and 17-year-old church friends as moral support to make sure I'm not a wacko. Now, I'm totally OK with being cautious on a first meeting, but bringing a couple of teenagers, without mentioning you're doing so? Here's a hint: If you're that afraid of a first meeting, don't put yourself on an Internet site!

But I'm happy where I'm at in my singletude, and perhaps just starting to get the hint God is hammering through my skull: (HEY, YOU! CONCENTRATE ON BEING A COMPLETE PERSON AND RELY ON ME WITHOUT SOMEONE TO FALL BACK ON.)

Aside from a constant sense of drowiness and sleep deprivation, life is peachy. Law classes are amazing, a blend of work and play that has me grimacing and grinning, usually at the same time. My perception of the professors has shifted subtly, as the teacher who was one of my least favorites is now my best.professor.evar. I started teaching a beginning ballroom class on Monday at Willamette. 70 people showed up. I yelled for two hours because I didn't have a cordless mic; hopefully next week will be better living through amplification.

Life up here, in fact, is a whole bunch of awesome. I get up at 6:30 or 7, try to read my Bible, get to school five minutes late, sit in classes off and on for four hours, work out, grab some lunch, study/put off studying for the next six hours, then, depending on the night, go dancing/bowling/dog park/thursday bar review/friday party/saturday party/sunday dance classes, hit the pillow around midnight or 1 and do it again the next day. In essence, it's really great to have purpose in life again, instead of being defined by two hours of online poker and a personal best on the disc golf course for the day.