One of my favourite activities on earth is constructive-self-criticism.

And by favourite I mean compulsive.

And by constructive-self-criticism I mean beating the crap out of my self-worth and stripping myself of whatever is left of my dignity.

One day, while aggressively and relentlessly berating myself, about all the things I have yet to accomplish, I yelled at myself (I do that),

Name one f@#$ing thing you’ve accomplished in this lifetime!

Which, naturally, hurt my own feelings but, interestingly enough, led me to sit down and write this list:

I left home when I was 14 years old.

I lived with families, I lived with roommates, I lived with a mob of debaucherous punk rockers twice my age (you know who you are) and I even lived on the streets for a while.

I survived

I went to photography school.

I gave birth to 3 beautiful and brilliant baby girls (naturally and drug free – I might add) and raised them pretty much all by myself.

I got my driver’s license when I was 8 months pregnant with my youngest daughter, so I would be able to get to the hospital the day she was born.

I took a bus to Seattle, 3 months later, and picked up a piano and drove it to Vancouver in a 1 ton truck, with no one but my 2 month old baby by my side.

I tossed everything I owned to the curb, packed up 3 kids and moved across the country, all by myself.

I was accepted to Concordia’s (Jazz) music program even though I had never graduated high-school and showed up at the audition without accompaniment or sheet music and sang an Irish love song and Opportunity by Joan Armatrating… Acapella.

I survived the death of the love of my life/the father of my children without being institutionalized.

I survived Autoimmune Hemolitic Anemia and 12 blood transfusions. Although I suspect I may have suffered post-traumatic-stress disorder as a result, but HEY! I survived.

I survived (so far) raising 3 teenage girls without having a psychotic break (mostly) or giving them up for adoption.

I watched my house burn to the ground with everything in it. 3 times.

I have been heartbroken, dumped, cheated-on, lied to, evicted, robbed, raped, bankrupt, and devastated in countless ways, and bounced back (mostly) Every. Single. Time.

I co-founded and co-produced an awesome series of burlesque shows.

I’ve worked as a waitress, a shop-keep, an usher, a bartender, a photographer, a nanny, a janitor, a secretary, a florist, a pre-school teacher, an intervention counsellor in a homeless shelter, and a resource counsellor for pregnant women and new mothers “at risk”, an actress, a singer, and about 12 other things…

I’ve performed in burlesque shows, rock-shows, dinner theatres, cabarets, festivals, television emissions and films and shared the stage with some of the performers I admire most in the world.

I write stories and songs.

I’ve been published in a magazine (sure it was only 3 sentences for en Route, but still!)

I work three jobs, I regularly perform in front of hundreds of people, and somewhat consistently make love (with words) to the general public via www.sweetvegan.net and www.theladyslounge.com

And a bunch of other cool things that I can’t remember at this exact moment.

Have I accomplished everything I was hoping I would have by now?

Not even close.

But if you had told me 20 years ago that I would have done everything on that list by the age of 41, I’m not sure I would have believed you.

I’m just saying…

Maybe instead of beating yourself up for everything you have “to-do” or haven’t done yet, sit down and write yourself a list of everything you have done.

You’ll probably be pleasantly surprised and pretty damn proud of yourself.

Arguing with stupid people is lame.

When you say something brilliant, quick witted and evil, designed to shut the average intelligent human being right the hell up – a stupid crazy person only gets derailed for about 3 seconds and then just keeps on babbling and ranting at you as though you didn’t say anything at all.

SO Unsatisfying.

All that natural brilliance wasted.

Between the landlady, the principal at my daughter’s school and a handful of other incidents, including watching footage of the recent demonstrations here in Montréal, my deep routed desire to study law was reignited over the past few weeks.

Seriously.

Imagine, arguing with smart people. As a job. How cool would that be?

And also, instead of arguing with stupid people, you could just stare at them and say “I’M A LAWYER” which I’m pretty sure translates (at least to stupid people) as “I’m smarter than you – Shut up.”

For a few minutes, an invigorating rush pulsed through my entire body, while contemplating it, as though I was physically acting out my epiphany.

That’s it. I thought. I am going to law school. I am a lwayer. I can feel it in my blood.

Is this real? Am I committed? Or is this merely a symptom of my early-onset dementia? I do not know but it’s nothing new.

I fantasized throughout my 20′s and 30′s about becoming a Lawyer but I felt superstitious about it. Like if I became a lawyer I’d be giving up on my music and writing. Also, as I have mentioned a few times, I really do have the memory of a goldfish, which I used to mistake for a lack of intelligence.

Silly me.

Oh yeah and also, my baby brother graduated from NYU Law last year and he’s a brainiac and I’m not sure whatever matchbook law degree I could afford would hold up at the Christmas dinner table.

What are you talking about Jen? You should totally be a lawyer! – is clearly what you’re all thinking – I mean, your natural ability to annihilate people in a single (albeit run-on) sentence is jaw-dropping, to say the least.

Your eloquence with passive-aggressive flippancy when stating the obvious is breath-taking really!

Oh, stop. And thank you. You’re all too kind.

While all of that is so true, I suspect that secretly, part of the reason I wanted to be a lawyer was so people would think I was intelligent and grown-up and tough – in case the survival of single parenting 3 savage teenage daughters isn’t evidence enough.

Of course, there’s also the part where I enjoy (perhaps more than I should) saying the words “In a court of law” .

I already say it as often as I can find the occasion to but feel it might carry more weight were I actually in possession of some sort of paperwork deeming worthy.

I don’t know where this yearning will lead me in life.

To the LSAT or to simply subscribing to more channels on cable so I can watch even more re-runs of Law And Order…