Unsolicited Advice

A couple days ago, the somewhat-overdramatic juris doctor had a guest instructor in. I don't usually bother to go when he does that; I'm too old to waste time taking classes with anyone whose choreography doesn't make me desperately want to get up and dance. But the SOJD was going to be in class with us, and I thought, my, wouldn't that be an interesting thing to see? I've never seen him as a student before. So what the hell, I signed up. The lady he had in is a successful commercial dancer, who was actually scouting for a performing arts academy the week she was here. She can fuck all the way off. She said we were going to start class with a warmup. We did not. We slammed straight into a lot of high-speed, high-impact cardio. I have a mild case of asthma that can be triggered by sudden bursts of exercise in an unfavorable environment -- I've done it by suddenly running to catch my bus in August -- or just by excessive heat and humidity. We're still stuck

When I was finishing my bachelor's, I was starting to look at maybe going to graduate school. SUNY Albany had a sociology program that looked appealing, and I had friends up there. For the first time in my life, I bought a set of airline tickets -- all by myself! with my own debit card! -- arranged for accommodations, and emailed my professors . One of my friends happened to have family on Long Island, so we bought some train tickets and made plans to bounce around Manhattan for a while before catching the LIRR. About two weeks before I got on the plane, I had a nightmare. I dreamt that New York was obliterated. I vividly remember standing alone in the hollow canyon between skyscrapers, and looking up. There was a blinding flash of light and I woke in a dead panic. As much as I think symbolism is a useful tool for self-exploration, I do not believe in literal, concrete prophetic dreams. But I could not shake the feeling of impending doom. I was going to go to New York City, and Dea