Well, to be honest, the reason I haven't posted anything here in two...uh, thr...fo...really? Five months? Okay, fine, it's time. Anyway, it's not like anything important happened since May, right? Well, let's recap:

So, Andrea finished her exams and headed out to Abbotsford, leaving me two and a half weeks before the wedding to move in, settle, and generally make a mess of the place.

Two weeks before the wedding, the guys took me out to the Interior for a weekend of golf and good times, both of which were had, though generally not simultaneously. Still, we had fun, and made it back in one piece each (also, I kicked all of their butts at golf - did I mention that yet?)

The next weekend was just as fun and exciting, but instead of golf and beer, I sat for six hours feeding sheets of paper into a printer individually as part of the process of making our wedding programs. I'm pretty sure that there are a few left if anyone is interested. Be sure to note the quality workmanship.

Before I knew it, I was out in Abbotsford with four days left of bachelorhood, and still lots of wedding planning to do (for Andrea). But, I watched her get it done, and sure enough, June 17 came.

For me, the wedding day started, as most great days do, with a haircut. The light rain that had fallen off and on for the previous few days seemed to be lifting, and to make it even better, the haircut was free because it was my wedding day (I really should do this more often - I need another haircut now...Andrea, do you still have that dress handy?) After that, we went and picked up the rental cars and the guys came over in the late morning. Since we had a few hours to kill, we did what all modern-day gentlemen do when faced with a comrade's wedding day - play video games. Well, except for Tudor, who was busy Googling a suitable best man's speech. But, with video hockey complete, and the matrimonial hour drawing near, we readied ourselves. I maintained a death grip on the bag containing the rings, except for when I put them down for one picture, upon which they were moved from my line of vision and nearly caused within me a heart attack. Pictures taken, and bypass surgeries completed, we ventured on to the church.

What more can I say about the day itself? I will step away from my usual deprecatory self to say that it was certainly the best day of my life. The weather was perfect, the service was great, pictures went as well as they could, and everyone we love got to spend the evening with us (even if it was mostly divided into one- or two-minute slices). Of course, we hardly had a chance to sit and eat the great food there, and neither of us had dessert save the obligatory piece of cupcake for the photo-op, but on the whole, everything went off perfectly.

We spent a week in some great bed-and-breakfasts down the Oregon Coast before coming back home to the gift opening the following weekend. Now, I'm not one to complain about getting things, but we got a LOT of stuff. So much, in fact, that even after several late-night car trips from Abbotsford to Vancouver have yet to clear it all from Andrea's parents' basement. Some day, some day...

In August, after six weeks of having a housewife, Andrea headed off to Penticton for a month to work in a doctor's office, leaving me at home, yet again (though only from Monday to Friday) to fend for myself. Somehow, I survived (by gorging myself on the weekends when I was visiting Andrea or in Abbotsford).

Now, since the wedding, I had still been working at the Brick, and loathing every second of it. I'll omit the details, but the gist of the situation was that I was doing work that I didn't enjoy at all, that was no longer challenging to me on any level except sanity-wise, and many of the people I was forced to work and deal with were, to say the least, frustrating in their ineptitude and (at the risk of sounding priggish) insolence. By early September, I wasn't finding too many people there easy to work with, and I'm sure the feeling was probably mutual (I think I've developed something of a reputation there by now, though that might be overstating my importance in the eyes of others).

Then came September 7th. A pretty non-descript day, unless you're Brazilian or Mozambican (look it up), and I was working late. I had already written a resignation letter, but hadn't yet delivered it to my supervisor, as I hadn't seen him for a week. For a few days, I had pretty much made my mind up that I was going to quit, but doubt was setting in on the morning of the 7th (doubt such as "where will we get money from?" and so on) and I was thinking about perhaps cutting down to part-time, finding a second job at Starbucks or something close to home, and spending the extra time researching and looking for other, better work. For a few months I had been waiting on a potential government job that, as you might expect of a potential government job, was taking some time in becoming available. Also, I had a few potential historical research positions on the horizon, which are, in reality, sub-contracts originating from, you guessed it, the government, and therefore take approximately seven times longer than regular government jobs to become available.

My disdain for my job outweighed these obstacles, though by the 7th I was less sure about just how much this was the case. Twice during my shift I was about to talk to the supervisor about my position, but both times some piddling, work-related obligation postponed it. Then, at 3:15, my cell phone started vibrating. The number on the call display seemed familiar...maybe Starbucks was calling me back for that interview! I answer...

Me: Hello?

The other end: Hello, is Eric there?

We ascertain that yes, in fact, he is.

Them: Eric, this is Elaine from UBC Law calling. I'm sorry to have to do this on such short notice, but how would you like to start law school tomorrow?

Me: Juh?

Elaine: I know, it's sudden, so we'll give you some time to make your mind up. Can you let me know by 4?

Me: Uh, um...

Elaine: Yes...?

Me: I should probably talk to my wife about this. 4:00, you say? So, I've got 45 minutes?

Elaine: We can probably stretch that a bit. Can you call sometime tonight?

I, while simultaneously picking my jaw from the floor, doing a victory dance, and defacing furniture, ascertain that yes, in fact, I can call sometime tonight.

So, I call Andrea up (she was just home from her shift in the emergency room) and ask her to share a lunch with me so we can decide the course of much of our lives. Naturally, we chose McDonald's as the place to do so (Dairy Queen, outside which I had proposed to her, just seemed so gauche). After a quick discussion over a cheeseburger, we came to the conclusion that I couldn't say no to this. The Brick, on the other hand...

I called Elaine back, then my parents, and then I got to have that meeting with my supervisor that I had planned earlier. Well, it wasn't quite the same meeting, but I was smiling more than I would have. I floated through the next five hours of the shift, and at 9:00 the next morning I found myself, backpack in tow, at the fabled Curtis Building (which looks a lot like SFU, so I felt at home), attending my first day of UBC Law on the fourth day of the semester (it was a late, LATE admission.)

So, that's been the last month and a half. I've worked a couple of shifts since then, but nothing in the past three weeks. Minimal Brick, lots of Contracts, Constitutional, Torts, Property, Criminal, and Transnational Law. It's great to once again be a student (excepting the massive debt we're now incurring) and I'm again enjoying what I'm doing. Of course, I've had to endure the onslaught of lawyer jokes (A reporter outside of a courtroom asked a defendant clad only in a barrel: "Oh, so your attorney lost the case?" The defendant answered, "No, we won." - I didn't say GOOD lawyer jokes), but I'm still happy.

So, I'm now one-half of one-half of one of three years finished law school, and I'm already cowering in the shadow of December exams, which don't necessarily count for anything. But it ain't the Brick. For that, we can all be happy.

Until next time (whenever that may be),
Eric
UBC Law, Class of 2009
Writing from the second floor of the Law Library

That aside, for all those of you that aren't aware already (based on the current readership of this journal - nobody - this qualifier shouldn't be necessary), Andrea and I will be getting married in a couple of weeks (under four now, to be exact). Now, I'm not going to talk about the wedding here, as I have another site that takes care of that already.

What I will talk about, however, is a corollary of the upcoming nuptials (why does everyone say 'upcoming nuptials'? It's never 'upcoming wedding'; it seems that when dealing with the union of people and using the adjective 'upcoming', the word 'nuptials' is required.) Editor's note: Google does not back this up...'upcoming wedding' has over five times the results than does 'upcoming nuptials'. Consider this when contemplating the veracity of anything you read here.

Where was I before that jerk interrupted? Right...what I will talk about are some fun facts about the place where Andrea and I will live! Andrea moved in a month ago, so I have had some time to spend over there (mostly cooking and cleaning for Andrea as she studies for her 392 med school exams).

One of the things that we thought would be great about this place is that it has hardwood dloors with radiant heating. Well, it hasn't really been cold enough for the radiant heating to get too involved. However, the dark colour of the hardwood floor has proven to be the perfect storage space for all of the household dust that we wouldn't have been able to put anywhere else. Yes, they look nice, but if anyone has eaten a cookie, or a piece of toast, or sneezed, or breathed, you can see the remnants on the floor. By the time that it has been swept completely, you have to go back to the beginning because the act of sweeping itself stirs up dust which lands at the other end of the room. Still, for those forty-five seconds, the floor looks downright dapper.

Now, we were fortunate that Ryan and Rebecca found a place that didn't allow barbecues, because we got theirs for free, to replace the last free barbecue that we were given (I really shouldn't complain about these barbecues). Anyway, the first time that we used it (at Andrea's old place), the ignitor worked perfectly. This was a marvel, as most BBQ ignitors are designed to break down after exactly six uses. Well, I guess it had been used five times previously, because the next time that I tried to light it, I was forced to resort to the old drop-a-match-in-and-back-away-before-your-eyebrows-and-retinae-are-singed method. Anyway, whatever, it's free, I shouldn't complain, right? Well, I bring out the matches the next time that I want to carcinify some food, but just for fun I figure I'll try the ignitor. BANG! The barbecue explodes, killing me instantly. No, just kidding, it lights up fine. So, I figure it only failed once, that's still a pretty good track record for something that is designed to fail before it is taken out of the factory packaging and installed. Next time I go to make burgers, what do you know? Doesn't work again. So, now the pattern is, if I remember to bring a match with me, the ignitor becomes self-conscious and, fearing loss of its position, gets that spark going. When I forget them...well, you get the picture - no fire. I am currently working on a match decoy system. I am smarter than this barbecue. I saw its SAT scores.

Now, as some of you know (see comment about qualifiers like this in the first paragraph), I currently live in a hobbit-hole basement suite that reeks of saeurkraut and asbestos. However, despite its slovenly appearance, I had not one infestation of rodents. Yes, I did have a skunk run into the backyard once, and there was another time where I think the same skunk became startled in close proximity to my bedroom window, but beyond horrible horrible odour particles, nothing threatened to get inside. Last weekend, I was sitting on the couch helping Andrea study (because I'm so great), and I look out the window and what do I see? None other than a friendly member of genus rattus rattus. Now, Wikipedia comforts me with the fact that "[c]ompared to the brown rat, [rattus rattus is a poorer swimmer." However, it makes no mention of the fact that they are excellent hiders in barbecue covers, and when frightened, say, be me lifting up said barbecue, can run a lap of a patio in approximately 0.09 seconds and nearly give me a heart attack. I should edit that entry.

But seriously folks, the place is great. And, with only 8 days until I get to take it over from Andrea, and then 19 more after that until we get married, soon I will get to fully call it home, instead of it just being the place where I cook and clean. Man, am I domesticated.

Well, by the next time I post here, I will most likely be a married man (meaning it will probably be a while before I post again, not that the wedding might not happen...I saw you smirking about the ambiguity of that statement). Knowing me, by then I'll have a couple of kids too...how's that for a conversation starter at the end of an entry?

See y'all on the other side,

Eric

And, here in Vancouver, it has been bitter. Not bitterly cold, mind you, but bitterly wet and gray. And, while that isn't a generally recognized cliche, after this month, it will be. All it has done is rain this month. I think that there has been one sunny day, which happened to fall on the day that would have tied the record for the most consecutive rainy days in the city's history, thereby denying us of the recognition we so richly deserve for having lived through this awful weather. That said, it was a nice day, and I think I was outside for part of it. And, I'm not here to chat about the weather, anyway.

What am I here to chat about, anyway?

Right. My life and humourous observations thereof.

Observations thereof.

Whining.

So, I'm still waiting on school, as I've been doing for most of the past year, but this year my fun is doubled, as I've applied to law school and the History Ph.D. programme at UBC. What this makes for is a medium-winded answer to the question that I always seem to be getting, which is, of course: "so, what are you doing?"

But, it makes for a better question than the follow-up, which is, naturally: "so, you're working right now, though. Where is that?" And, well, those of you who know me know the answer to that question, and I'm just going to leave it at that.

As for the rest of my life, which I haven't really discussed here for several months, things are going well. The wedding is now four and a half months away, and everything big is pretty much in place. We've had the reception booked since October, and over the holidays we secured a church and got a minister; Andrea bought her dress several months ago and it is now in, and we've bought our invitation paper.

So, all that's left are the details of putting together a wedding. Now, Andrea has been a bridesmaid three or four times before, and she knows what goes into the planning of a wedding. Me, I figure that there's a ceremony, some pictures, a reception, and bam, you're done, fly off to the honeymoon. Apparently this view is naive and foolish, who knew? You have to pick out things like ribbon and tulle and groomsmen and you have to buy candleholders and you have to recruit everyone you know that's been married before and get something from their wedding that you liked because it's easier than buying it, even if you have to have it smuggled in across borders. Needless to say, when I was a groomsman in Ryan and Rebecca's wedding, I did squat in the preparation. Well, that's not exactly true - I did take Ryan golfing on the Thursday before the wedding. With the free greens fees he got for having the reception at a golf course. When I was a ring bearer at the age of seven the only responsibility was that I not swallow the rings. The nice ER doctor and stomach pump technician will attest to the fact that one must be careful in pluralizing key words to little boys who think they're funny.

So, I have essentially no idea what goes in to making a wedding work (let alone a marriage!), but I guess I'm on a sharp learning curve right now (I assume it won't stop for some time).

Alas, the time grows late, and I have to work in the wee morning hours tomorrow. As this is my first journal entry for 2006, I feel compelled to make a resolution to post more entries here. Incidentally, I'm told by the good people at the CFOX-FM morning show that most New Year's resolutions are broken by the sixth of February.

See you in April!

Eric