Tick...tick...tick...BOOM! Dynamite!

I have 10 days and 22.5 hours until I find out my bar exam results. I'm abso-fucking-lutely terrified. My plan right now is to either move to another state if I don't pass, or to move to the area where I was born and keep moving back to if I do pass because I've officially stopped giving a shit about my father and I really don't want to continue to live under his roof. It kind of sucks to know that there is a chance that I failed, that busting my ass for 2 months studying was for nothing, and that I have to start all over from graduation. That being said, at least I do have some money coming in. I do have a half-time job, essentially regurgitating bullshit in a more user-friendly form. It's a bit like writing claims for a patent, so naturally I don't hate it and I am kinda sorta good at it. The best part is the fact that it allows me to halt my student loan repayments, as I don't earn enough to afford minimum payments according to the US Dept. of Education. Since it's for an online company, I've officially joined the tech industry, which I never thought would happen since I never actually hung out with anyone super techie. I need to start drinking in SV bars to be among my work "people." Socially, my life is kind of quiet. I think I've officially screwed myself over with the dude I was banging, since I had an ovary freak-out directed at him, and he's been silent ever since even though I apologized (I didn't get mad at him, just said that I was done dating, so he should be glad that I'm never going to basically stop fucking him out of the blue because I've decided to be monogamous with someone else). It's been over a week. I'm being strong and deleted everything from him, including all pictures of his washboard abs that he sent to my phone (super hard to do...I miss those photos), so i don't have any way to contact him. Okay, I lie, I still have his email address in case I do move back to where he is and he's down to fuck regularly. I'm still texting the guy I was dating back during my last month of law school. Every time I try to end things, I can't because I kind of don't want to lose the emotional closeness that we have. I know that it's never going to go anywhere because I know he's never going to step up and make a lifetime commitment to me. The closer I get to thirty (3 and a half years...yikes!), the more I want to get married and have kids, and I really need to find a guy who wants that too...and will give me attractive offspring. I really don't want to have ugly children. That's the primary reason why I'm not dating anyone now, since the only guys who actually do hit on me aren't that physically attractive. I'm nannying this week, to two teen girls, which actually makes me want to have kids more because I know that I can do raising kids full time. You know what I don't get at all? People with money and some stardust that's rubbed off on them thinking that the sun shines out of their ass. The latest example is a local celebrity and the "precious" brats of said celebrity. In my town, everyone gossips and so everyone knows everyone's business, but everything is handled in hushed tones and isn't splashed all over the news. Well, the "new" celebrity (who's only been living in town for a decade or so) had a very public breakdown and went off to rehab in a manner that was splashed all over the internet. Not how this town handles things. Then, I was walking past said celebrity's house on Halloween (the line of business that the celebrity is in would loan itself to an impressive Halloween display being a requirement), and the house looked more trailer trash than usual because now it has year-round Christmas lights strung up. The eldest brat apparently had a party going on...and that party had a guest list. Why the hell does that child think that they're so special so as to actually need a guest list for their glorified tea party? Justin Beiber's birthday party needs a guest list, the Halloween party hosted by a noname offspring of a minor celeb who's never appeared in the tabloids does not need a guest list. My friends and I joke that we need to have an intervention and explain to this family what is appropriate behavior and what is not appropriate behavior for residents, but now may not exactly be the time since the celebrity isn't at home and therefore not present to hear the lecture. If I do attempt to reign in this trailer trash family, I promise to post the results here.