Communists In Pink Taffeta Dresses

Every time something big is about to occur in my life, I have this nasty habit of obsessing over what will happen if the apocalypse hits before that big event. I like to blame this, in part, on my religious upbringing because, really, what impressionable child needs to be learning about Revelations (the book in the Bible) or any of the Old Testament, for that matter? And yes, I realize that Revelations is not in the Old Testament but I've always felt that the book of Revelations was God's way of saying, "So, you think I'm all nice and cuddly now that I sent my son down there to die, do you? I can still smite you!" So yeah, my morbid apocalyptic thoughts are partly the fault of my churchy tendencies, instilled within me at a tender age, and also a result of my natural pessimism. I'm not big on hope or faith but if you are ever looking for someone with a more cynical view on life than yourself, feel free to drop me a line...if we all haven't died by then in the infernal Armageddon that's headed our way.

I think another part of my Apocalypse Complex stems from the atmosphere of my younger years. Remember the Cold War? Remember worrying that Reagan and Gorbachev were just an argument away from dropping nukes on each others' countries, thus obliterating all mankind? Nuclear winter, that was the stuff of my childhood apocalyptic worries. I have a very distinct memory of being in first grade, my teacher holding a globe, pointing to the USSR and referring to it as "the Evil Empire" - this was the same teacher that made us pray before lunch, further reinforcing the link between God and total destruction in my young mind. But the thing about this imminent and constantly impending death by nukes was that it would be over in an instant. Unless, of course, you were one of the unlucky ones left alive to mutate a third arm off your forehead and fight with cockroaches the size of Roseanne Barr for scraps of edible trash. Yuck. When I wasn't praying to God to let me live to go to Prom, I was asking him to make sure I died quickly when the nukes came so that I didn't have to see larger than life cockroaches - because my little mind just could not wrap itself around that image...and we all wonder why I have trouble sleeping even now....

But it's true - I used to sincerely ask God to let me at least live till Prom. And, if He was feeling especially generous, till I got married, but I'd settle for Prom. And I wanted to wear my mother's pink taffeta dress with the poofy sleeves to Prom. Circa 1983, it was the most beautiful dress I had ever seen. By the time I was old enough to go to Prom, I would have rather been killed by nukes or even the human cockroaches than wear that thing. In college, I finally donned the pink monstrosity for a sorority mixer. The theme? "White Trash Wedding" and I won a prize for my get-up.

I digress. The point I am taking forever to get at is that I am super-psyched for law school but half-convinced that Armageddon (and not the Ben Affleck, Aerosmith kind) is going to hit sometime in the next three weeks, preventing me from ever actually experiencing this event that I have been building up to for the past 2 years. And Armageddon is a lot more frightening to contemplate nowadays than it was in my youth. Back in the day, I couldn't imagine anything worse than a communist with a nuclear weapon. Now that I'm practically one myself (not really, I'm just disenfranchised), they don't seem as scary. Especially when you compare the commies to the terrorists. All of a sudden, I miss the nukes with their quick-death guarantee.

But mostly, I just hope I make it to, and even better, through law school before thew world ends. That's really all I want. Marriage might be nice but I'll settle for law school.