Your prodigal blogger returns.

Well dear readers (if have any left), I have been leaving you to fend for yourselves of late, and thank you Jo and Kerry for nudging me encouragingly to a blogging rebirth.

The outcome of my little conversation with Quasi-Mojo was ultimately his making alternate arrangements and leaving me (much as I did you dear readers) to my own devices. The device in question was an electric blanket, which I have been utilizing to compensate for the absence of Q-M’s body-heat these past 10 days or whatever it has been. So it turns out that life does not mirror Hollywood, and sometimes, what looks like a plot, really doesn’t develop and becomes something like a vignette that should have been left on the cutting-room floor. Whudathunkit?

So lately, apart from working in the Emergency Department (and hopefully I'll have something interesting to say about hat at a later date), I have been known to attend the Honorable Society of Kings Inns. So now, I am a mild-mannered researcher by day for two days a week, and ill-mannered student by day, for the rest of the week but at night… I am Law-Man… A superhero who has the ability to dress pretentiously, take notes on his laptop (while everyone else scribbles frantically and resents the insidious hum of said laptop), talk to his middle-aged classmates, and avoid the attractive young female class mates as if he has the super-powers of invisibility and girl-repellant, and be able to tell you what Article 15.5 of the 1937 Constitution of Ireland is… as if by magic…

So I’m pretty busy.

I’m pretty happy with how the course is going so far to be honest. It is a godsend to have a buddy in the class – and I couldn’t ask for a better one than Nathan (as the 1981 Sale of Goods Act does not extend to asking God to replace your friends – no really he’s been smashin). My class mates, on the whole, seem like a pretty good bunch though you’re always bound to get a few weirdos in a class on 122. And despite my seeming inoculation against speaking to the young ladies, there is one incapacitatingly attractive girl in the class who I have every intention of discreetly making the acquaintance of (hopefully she likes men who stutter and sweat and blush and maintain eye-contact for record-breaking lengths of time – and she’s bound to – what woman doesn’t? Right?).

“So Buckley or whatever you’re calling yourself now,” I hear you say, “Why is it that all you seem to talk about these days is your abysmal singleness and pursuit your of love - emotional & physical?”

Well, rhetorical inquisitor, that’s because I’m abysmally single and in pursuit of love.

“Touche.”