recidivism

so i've done all this big talk about moving on, breaking chains, and generally reclaiming my life. it was all going so well.

then he called. all progress gone.

sigh. i really will never learn. sad part is, i don't really want to learn, i think. there is just too much good that comes from this arrangement. if i can recalibrate my expectations to line up with his, this will be perfect. as it stands, this is almost perfect, but for that one... little... thing.

as backsliding goes, there could be worse things to do. but it's still backsliding. as long as i can recognize it, i can at least accept the consequences.

fun

puritan work ethic would dictate that i sit in this chair and slave over my notecards and outlines without a single thought for my sanity or my happiness. that's the important thing, right? slave to the grind. nose to the stone. tend those fields, girl.

heh. good thing i'm not a puritan. stepping out for a well-earned study break. fun is VITAL to my life. all work and no play not only makes me a very dull girl, but interferes with my ability to work.

so i'll catch y'all later down the road. going out to enjoy my evening. :)

fevered ego

i interrupt this fun night of memorizing elements of hearsay exceptions and watching the nationals lose to touch on a subject near and dear to my heart - egotism. it's not a word with which i'm unfamiliar. i've been tarred with that brush a time or two. i mean, hell; this is my favorite shel silverstein poem:

i love myself
i think i'm grand
i go to the movies
just to hold my hand
i wrap my arms around my waist
and when i get fresh i slap my face

but as much as i adore myself, i cannot fathom the depth of thoroughly unnecessary onanism that is going on over at ESPN tonight with lebron james. this is the height of spectacle, and why? because it's freaking BRON-BRON! we are all WITNESSES or something! gaah. no thanks. and not just because i'm not a fan of his to begin with. it's so much more.

i like baseball, football and hockey. those are team sports at their cores. yes, technically, basketball is too, but under the reign of david stern, the sport has become all about THE SUPERSTAR. the NBA essentially exists as a group home for fevered egos and drama queens. it's appalling. drew brees is my quarterback, but without tracy porter, it's suddenly not so clear that the saints win super bowl 44. the yankees won the series, true, but who was the MVP? hideki matsui. my beloved ovie is a god on the ice, but the capitals' best weapons have names like brooks laich and semyon varlamov.

but in basketball, it's all about the god. and bron-bron is god. so that's why the sports world is being told to stop on a dime to watch him tell us all where he's going to play next year. well, no thanks. you're not bigger than the game. i won't buy in. i'll watch my local last-place baseball team try to get it together and win tonight, and i'll watch them do it as a unit. as raging an ego as i can be, even i know when to say when.

when.

and now, gazpacho

so it's pretty clear by now that i am a woman of passions. i don't do it halfway, ever, no matter what it is, even when it's not a good idea. as samuel l. jackson once said in the criminally underrated 187, "if you're going to be stupid, don't be half-ass stupid, be all the way stupid!" i don't half-ass anything.

so tonight, i did something i dig. i cooked a real honest-to-god meal, 100% from scratch. i made the biggest bowl of gazpacho you have ever seen in your life. and if i do say so myself, it was quite delicious. i'll be enjoying this stuff for a week or more. (hint: if you make it for yourself, cut the salt in half, leave out the kalamatas, and use white balsamic vinegar instead of red wine vinegar. i love me some ina garten, but too. much. salt.)

so no drama, no angst, no revelations or great truths. just tomatoes, onions, cucumbers and peppers. happy summer, y'all!

validation

sometimes, the universe comes through for you in ways you just never saw coming. today was the bar review "mid-term," so to speak - a SEVEN-HOUR mock-up of the second day of the virginia bar exam. yuck, yuck, yuck. i slogged through it, knowing i am not close to where i want to be in a couple of subjects, and came home just enervated as hell, not wanting to look at a law book. i wanted to drink wine and read a novel instead of attacking the books again.

then i checked the mail. i got my certificate of appreciation from my externship class from last semester at school, but there was something else in the envelope along with it. turns out that a huge project i did during that three months at the court has now become binding precedent - in other words, the law - in the circuit where i worked. let me tell you, there is NOTHING cooler to a law dork such as myself as knowing that words i drafted are going into the southern reporter, to be researched and potentially cited someday.

this is why i do what i do. this is exactly why i kill myself like this. i am going to be a lawyer. i love the law, i love working with it, and i love the results of what i do. so thank you, universe, for the supreme reminder of why i'm sitting here surrounded by notecards and outlines on this hot summer night. you've saved my drive, my motivation and my satisfaction with my chosen profession. i needed that.

self-evident

it was a splendid weekend in our nation's capital, spent in the company of my favorite people. we drank, we socialized, and we enjoyed each other's company. and it's funny; one of my friends did me the greatest possible favor she could this weekend just by getting drunk with me and asking some questions.

this was not a conversation i necessarily wanted to have, mind you. the things she asked me were things i've kept unspoken and as hidden as possible for years now. but she just wanted to know what was going on, catching up on the situation and confirming some things she'd suspected. and as she asked me these questions, and i answered her, a funny thing happened. i started asking myself some questions about the answers i was giving. i gave her a complete and accurate description of the situation as it actually is (i mean, she guessed a lot of it. it wouldn't have been right to lie), and as i heard myself speak, i thought, you know, the things you're saying to her are true, and they are also completely insane. if you were listening to this, you would take the speaker by the shoulders and shake her, telling her how crazy she is for dealing with this.


the party ended last night, and the hangover with which i greeted today was vicious. but once i got it out of my system and started dressing for the day, i looked at the situation i was in with a new twist. i looked around and said to myself, this has simply got to stop. there's no good that comes from this anymore. and all it took to slap me across the face and wake me the hell up was a couple of awkward questions late at night on the patio of a bar, drinking cheap beer and catching up with friends.

so thanks for the perspective, hon. you've saved me from myself in a way i didn't realize i needed to be saved. certain truths should be self-evident, but when they're not, it's the best service you can give someone to gently point that out.

let freedom ring

happy 234th, america. you're a fabulous country, full of spirit, bombast and outsized attitude. that often gets you in trouble, but it's also what makes you great. you're founded on all the right things - openness, equality, opportunity - and it only takes a little prodding to get you to remember that. within reason, people can achieve stellar things in the american land.

so here's to ya, old girl. you're the country that formed me. here's to the people, everywhere here and abroad, who do great work to keep things as sane as possible. here's to the best and brightest of our national character winning out over the smaller, meaner threads of our crazy quilt. here's to fireworks, grilled food, adult libations and sunshine. here's to the stars and stripes. you've done all right for yourself over the last 2 1/2 centuries. let's keep the streak alive.