What a Long, Strange Trip It’s Been

Total Black: -$199.61
Total Red: $269,947.74

This is the end.  My only friends.  The end.  Of my elaborate plans.  The end.  Can’t you picture what could’ve been?  So limitless and free.  Desperately in need . . . of some . . . stranger’s hand.  In my desperate land.  It hurts to set you free.  But you’ll never follow me.  This is, after all, the end.   

And Then There Was One

Total Black: -$199.84
Total Red: $269,947.64

I received a comment today on a post from a few months back, No Holiday For Lawyers.  The commenter acknowledged that she was a late to that table; that post has been up since President’s Day.  But she acknowledged that she was making her way through the prior posts.  Intriguing that it was that post that prompted her to comment as another person, mentioned below, also reached out to me just as she reached that same post.  Curious.  I don’t see a problem with “late” comments.  Though some of the posts form an interlocking story. Sockpuppets and Doppelgängers, for example, can’t be fully understood without reading Breakfast with Narcissus.  Other posts stand on their own.  As such, why shouldn’t someone comment months or even years later.  But it’s fitting that, with only one day left until this blog comes to its pre-arranged termination, new readers are making their way through three-hundred, sixty-two prior posts. 

Four of Six

Total Black: $129.67
Total Red: $234,846.52

Out of curiosity I ran a google search earlier today for this blog to see what comes up.  One reference I spotted I hadn’t seen before.  Back in February, in response to a post on Bitter Lawyer, a commenter referenced my blog.  The post gave short caricatures of laid-off and unemployed lawyers.  I suppose I fell under number four: Me Can Blog Too. 

Fine Line

Total Black: $157.36
Total Red: $225,563.13

Today was one long day at the theatre.  I worked there from 11am to 10pm.  I hawked in the morning.  Then attended a mandatory training.  Covered an event after that hosted by Boston University and finally wrapped up the night ushering at Avenue Q.  And despite having seen that show countless times, different parts of it still speak to me depending on the day.  Tonight, the final scene of Act I hit home.

Cutting Costs, Corners . . . and Concerns

Total Black: $435.42
Total Red: $230,977.94

I’ve received a lot of comments, questions, feedback, and suggestions over the past day or so.  Since the blog is just beginning to pick up traffic, I have the luxury of responding directly in a post to many of those responses.  First though I need to lay out my monthly expenses.  That’s something I haven’t done.

Buy Me a Beer?

Total Black: $310.07
Total Red: $228,363.23

So . . . you wanna buy me a beer?  How about it?  You choose: domestic or import, tap or bottle.  I’ll be sure to toast your good health as I drink it down. Go ahead.  Click on the glass.  You know you want to.

In Medias Res

While the beginning is a very good place to start, here it doesn’t seem to fit somehow.  My back-story is long and can be told another day.  And besides…no one’s seen this yet.  So really I’m just writing for myself right now.  But yes . . . this is my first ever blog entry.  So, expediting the formalities, here’s the main adjectives that one might employ in describing me: Male / 33 years-old / White / Gay / Adopted / Gemini / Lawyer / raised Byzantine Catholic / Penn State alum / Howard alum . . . and, of course, Laid-Off.  But I suppose the blog title already aptly notes that.

At the outset, I must confess that I just saw Julie & Julia yesterday.  I was probably the only person in the theatre who got stressed out by that movie.  And it stuck with me, so I started examining the origins of that gnawing feeling.  That prompted this.

In a sense, I am Julie: my apartment overflows with piles of partially-read books stacked for later, stacks of newspapers waiting for one of these days, days gone by with bills lying opened but unpaid, opened boxes not yet put away.  Let’s just say I have a bit of trouble finishing what I start.  But cluttered is not dirty.  I am a bit of a clean freak, that much I know, especially upon returning to my apartment after two weeks with a renter staying there.  I’ve heard a stereotype of  New Yorkers that they come across stylish, fashionable, and a cut-above-the-rest, but yet their apartments are nasty, dirty, and gross.  But I digress (and more on the renter later).  At any rate, since I’m great at starting things, I figured I’d start this blog.  And here’s what it’ll take to finish it.