butchers

[can't find the sound for you; this is a song by the amazing band slobberbone. track's called, conveniently enough, "butchers."]

"now she's had seven years of happiness with a boy she's always claimed to have adored, and there's fewer who've been truer but as of late she finds herself a little bored..."

growing up means growing apart. there's no getting around it. there are people with whom i spent every freaking second of my life at age six who, if we met today, would have no common ground with me whatsoever. not that there would be hostility, mind you; far from it. it'd probably be one of those nice, little heartwarming things that happens every once in awhile. you come home and say, "hey, you'll never guess who i ran into today." well, you say that if you've got someone to come home to. and there's the twist; what happens when that person from whom you're growing apart is the person to whom you come home?

"she tells him she still loves him and has only good thoughts of him, and the times they've had and hopes that it'll help him understand..."

oh, lord. this is the part that people just don't face, i think. this is what sets the brave and heartless apart from the kind and spineless. how do you admit to someone who, really, isn't such a bad person that you've outgrown something you swore up and down you'd stick with forever? y'know, you'd fight for through thick, thin, etc. sigh. it's not like this sort of thing is uncommon. maybe it's an outmoded way of thinking at all. hell, it happened to the gores, and they were all story-book-ish and whatnot. and they were rich and privileged on top of it. oh, who knows. there's only one outcome ahead: ripping, tearing, blood, tears, tragedy.

"when she runs her knife straight through him, it's the only way to do them; she's the winner of the game but she'll never get the bloodstains off her hands..."

so i'll do it, i'll cop to my evolutions, my growth, my change, and my frustrations. i'll cop to it all. and i'll probably get what i want. yay. but what the hell do i win? i don't win anything, except the space to suffer the consequences of what i've done. youthful mistakes so heavily compounded with the trappings of adulthood. god, there should be some kind of psychological test requirements to do what we did. but there's only so much "why?" you can ask. if you can avoid making a flowery, emotional speech when you break the news, the boy will respect you for your frankness, if nada surf is to be believed. heh. i don't think it works that way when you're as grown as i am.

"in the end, they all fall just the same but she'll never get the bloodstains off her hands..."

the end of a life is never pretty. there's nothing attractive, nice, or fun about this. there's just the slowly rising feeling of some amalgamation of dread, terror, relief, sorrow, and something black and heavy mixed together in the depths of my heart. people do this stuff every day and i know that. i am not special for the havoc i'm about to wreak. far from it. but that doesn't change the permanent alteration i'm about to undergo. (and i really, at this point, only have business worrying about myself; worrying about him is just condescending.) the why, the how - none of it matters anymore. i just have to carry the fact that i'm a butcher, a murderer of dreams and possibilities, and that the flowers i carried down the aisle that long-ago day have long since died. he'll hurt. there's no doubt. but i'll be changed forever. you carry your victims with you wherever you go. i will be no different.

"he'll have some temporary pain, but she will never get the bloodstains off her hands."

big brother

oh, the sine wave that is my life has thrown me all around today. but as i get ready to fall asleep, i feel okay at last. i was up earlier in the morning; went to class, got some studying done, all is right with the world. but of course, as always happens on the weekends, the evening rolled around and it slowly started to dawn on me that i had no plans. i should be at a point in my life where a friday evening in isn't a problem, and yet i always get this sensation that i'm the least popular kid in high school when this happens.

enter my beloved big "brother." i am an only child, of course, and so is he. but this guy and i have grown up together, literally. as in, knew each other before puberty grown up together. through thick and thin, no matter what, he's always had my back. it's almost like he can sense that i've been on emotional tenterhooks for the better part of the month, and unbidden he came in and said, "hey, let's all go to dinner." excellent. it doesn't take much to get me settled down; all i need is some place to go and i feel human again.

the weirdness that was dinner was another story. it's almost ancillary; i'll get into it another time. we said goodbye to our other friend and big bro and i went to hang out at his apartment. slowly, surely, he worked out of me all the crap that's been clanging around in my head. and, not only did he listen, but he offered feedback. solutions. things to think about. strategies to consider. y'know, like any good friend would. not only that, but it was so personally tailored to me and how i operate that i instantly felt a weight lift off my shoulders.

that, my friends, is a "brother's" love. and i wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

cycles

we are such creatures of habit when we want to be, aren't we? today was just a case study in repeating behaviors, both intentionally and unintentionally. i started my day like about 600,000 other people in this country: in line for my shiny new phone. (which, can i just tell you, is AMAZING. LOVE.) it was either going to be a smooth process or a total debacle. it was the latter. total wait time: five hours, 42 minutes, from start of wait until receipt e-mailed. i am totally insane for doing that. but that's not the repetition, nor will it EVER be repeated again. the repetition came when we all started chatting in line together. i mean, if you're going to be somewhere with all these people, may as well make the best of it. i spent the morning talking to a guy, average height, average looks, amazing clothes and clearly brilliant. it's like i'm a magnet, though, because yet again, we see the species homo pedantus. this guy was my usual type - snarky, not-quite-condescending-but-pretty-damn-close tech-boy know-it-all. i swear, i conjure these boys from some celestial storehouse where they mash ego and intellect together. and what did i do? i e-mailed him. of course i did. repeat the cycle, yet again.

and then, on the other side of the coin, i find myself repeating behaviors in other contexts. once more, into the breach; i find myself problem-solving for people i shouldn't be. i am the one who can fix it, right? yeah, no. i need to stop, i need to let it go. the only saving grace i've found in THAT little vicious circle is that i am a little more impervious to emotional displays than i used to be. when everything falls apart, instead of rushing in with duct tape and soothing words, i am now the cold voice of reason. i think that answers a lot of questions, to be honest. it answers questions i didn't even know had been asked.

it also gives me hope - a little, anyway - that all these cycles will eventually have an end. 

pedestal

i've been thinking a lot about heroes these days. it's a human instinct to look up to people, i think. we all start off, at least on some level, looking up to the people who raise us. in my case, i idolized my daddy as a little girl. even when he got strict and overbearing (in my mind), i still adored him. but then when i got into my teen years and started noticing popular culture and local boys, i picked other admirers. i loved don mattingly (still do), eddie vedder, all those typical early- to mid-90s touchstones. you name the gen-X reference, i ate it up. (ben stiller circa reality bites, looking at you.)

i also started finding boys to admire. i dated some of those boys, stared at others. but a couple in particular took up permanent places in my pantheon. it's a bewitching setup, when you're a smart but naive girl and you first get your hands on intelligent male company. you tend to freeze it in your mind and hold it there, squelching all of its negative sides and shining the brightest light you can find on its positivity. it feels SO good to relate to someone, to be comfortable with someone, that you don't care what's on the other side. sometimes, the other side can cause you serious problems: abuse, violence, psychological degradation. been there. (who hasn't?) but then there's just the fact that sometimes those guys you think are so perfect are just so, so incredibly... human. they aren't the gods you made them out to be. and sometimes that realization is a long time coming.

i've made a few references to dexter lately. i just finished season 1 tonight. (for those who haven't yet, just go watch it. seriously. so smart, so good.) you ever wanted an archetypal antihero? well, you've got one in dexter. he's solid, reliable, and he has a strict set of rules about good and evil. if it wasn't for that whole serial killer thing, he'd be the perfect man. he's up on a pedestal in the lives of a lot of the women in that show, and they have no idea what he's hiding.

funny how it takes an example that ludicrously stark to really make me see what's been in front of me all along. it does people a disservice to worship them, not to mention what it does to you. bring the gods in your life down to the floor and look at them, long and hard, as equals. you'll be surprised what you find. it's not always a bad thing; it may even make you appreciate them more. hell, worked for me.

kudzu

as it happens, old habits die hard. my old life came shrieking into my new life with a vengeance tonight; i've spent all day dealing with problems 1,100 miles away from my double-sided little haven in the mid-atlantic. on the one hand, i love solving, doing, thinking and applying. but on the other hand, this is the same damn thing that got me in this mess in the first place: handling all the business.

when you have relationships that last a long time, they just have this way of twining themselves around every fiber of your being. it's really like kudzu, which any good southern kid will tell you has a way of covering everything in its path with no discretion or mercy. the vines just grow and grow, and it's basically impossible to do anything about it. so this is my challenge. i need a machete or something, just to slash and burn and regain myself. i mean, with all the clarity i've gained in this short little time i've been alone, to suffer a setback now would be...

no. we're not even going to contemplate that possibility. one day at a time. i am not going to let the past bowl me over and swallow me whole, digging up vulnerabilities and hurting me. not even close. i didn't come this far to let these dusty vines define my life. it's a new day, and that's all there is to it.

company

i think about the way things have gone over the last couple of years, and it's a weird feeling. i know i'm doing exactly what i need by spending time here by myself, figuring all this out and getting my head on straight. but lately, and especially in the last couple of weeks, the feeling i got wasn't anything like i expected. i was lonely. that much i knew about. but more than that, being by myself, even with people i love in close walking distance, compounded that loneliness to such a level that it was hard for me to bear. so i hid from it. i spent copious amounts of time hiding from my mind state with my friends, leaning hard on their (let's face it) charity to get out of my brain and into a "normal" head space. i have good people in my life. i appreciate the hell out of them. but i was starting to annoy myself with how clingy i was getting. i knew something had to give.

but then this weekend happened. i had a saul on the road to damascus moment about, well, a lot of things in my life. and another bit of perspective that i got is the realization that i really do need something to do, somewhere to go and someone to talk to at least once a day to get by. so i took charge of it. i'm joining. i'm exploring groups and things to do. (i am also still spending 50-60 hours a week working on bar exam stuff. i haven't forgotten.) and, yes, it helps that i am not sitting in this apartment alone right now, even though the new roommate (who's perfectly nice) isn't hanging out with me. it's not that i don't cherish this time to straighten out, get myself together, etc. it's just easier when i know what i need, and it's even easier still when i get out of my own way and go get it.

perspective

this will not go down as one of my favorite weekends ever. and yet, after all the insanity, the curveballs i was thrown, i don't feel beaten up, or even all that angst-ridden. quite the opposite; i feel more at peace tonight than i have in months, if not years.

a lot of stuff came to a head this weekend. i finally decided to cowboy up and confess a bunch of things to a bunch of people, things that should've been said years ago. there was a lot of tragedy in these conversations. there was a lot of letting go of pretense, copping to weakness and failure, and there was more heartbreak than i ever saw coming. i did get down; i mean, who doesn't in that situation? it's never easy to do the dirty work of life.

but i did something intelligent this time: when something bugged me, i actually (GASP!) spoke up. i unloaded. i vented. and i was honest, 100% honest, about how this felt. it's easy to 'fess up to y'all out in blog-land; i don't have to look you in the eyes while i write this. but i've always had issues being straight with people who are close to me. well, no more. the things i said, the truths i finally copped to, they really did set me free. so i woke up this morning for the first time in forever with a sense that things really will be OK. i mean, i knew this intellectually all along, but when you live as i do, there's sometimes a pretty big disconnect between head and heart.

so that's good. there's a sense, finally, that i really am on the cusp of getting everything i wanted out of my life, after a long pause for silliness and emotional stuntedness. it's going to happen. and i'm going to make it happen. i don't have to be scared, or hold back, or any of that other defensive foolishness i've built up over the years. and all it took to get all this insight was to open up and TELL THE TRUTH. it's amazing how that works.

blocked

it was supposed to be an easy night. a short morning in class, a gorgeous sunny day, some good study progress, then a quick trip out for food and a movie with a friend. nice. simple. but no, we don't do simple anymore in this life, apparently. i was all settled in my seat, ready to go, and bang: the phone buzzed. damn push notifications, i thought; i KNOW the lakers won, you don't have to tell me five times from three different apps. but no, this time it was a phone call. at 12:34 AM. from a blocked number. for the third time in 48 hours.

so consider me unnerved. i mean, it's not like i'm completely alone right now, with drama all around me and a ton of stress to sap my vigilance. oh wait - that's EXACTLY what it's like. there are weird things at work in my life, stressful, paranoia-inducing surprises at every freaking turn. and the best part? i've opened the door to all of this. damn it all. this had better just be an extraordinary inappropriate telemarketer. if not... well, i don't know what to do. but let this be public record: three calls, blocked number. june 15, 5:32 PM; june 17, 10:26 PM; june 18, 12:34 AM. all times eastern. let's hope it's nothing. it is nothing.

right?

venus in flip-flops

[so i'm pulling off the mask for a minute here. tonight's flight of fancy takes a distinct turn for the dark. what can i say? i felt like plumbing the depths and flat-out getting weird in my writing tonight. maybe i've been watching too much dexter. whatever. anyway, for the benefit of those who just don't want to go there, i'm trying my hand at HTML and hiding the meat and potatoes behind a jump. if you are interested, please throw me some critiques. i'm trying some serious writing, not just my stream of consciousness exercises this time. if not, no worries; we'll reconvene later...]

barely breathing

[soundtrack. sorry for the stupid commercial.]

"i know what you're doing; i see it all too clear..."
yeah, i'm writing you another letter tonight, my dear. you just don't know when to let it go, do you? i spend forty-eight hours just shaking with anger at you, and at me for the way i let you infiltrate every cell in my body. just rage, nothing but rage, and all-consuming rage at that. it was so all-consuming that i even managed not to feel somehow blessed by your very acknowledgement of my status update. (yeah, because we're thirty, or pushing thirty, going on fifteen, apparently.) that was good. but what do you do today? you manage to wield your particular brand of half-concerned, half-pedantic wisdom at me, and damn it all, i bite. you knew i would, too. i can't put you down like that.

"everyone keeps asking, what's it all about? it used to be so certain, but i can't figure out..."
i think it was the insanity of the weekend, the loose lips that goddamn near sank this ship twice in one night. (you should really find a way to shut him up, by the way. he's gonna cause you some trouble someday, whether about me or about something else.) it really did start me thinking. what the hell are we doing? moreover, what are YOU doing? what have you been doing all along? i mean, you've told me a lot. but really, i don't know what to think about your motivations. you're either the most obvious person i've ever met or the best con artist in the history of time. i'm not sure which it is anymore. but i sure as hell make it easy for you. i always do. i always have. but after all that, i'm really not sure i want to do this. it hurts. it's hard. it's getting risky. and i always end up feeling like i've given a lot more than i got.

"what is this attraction? i only feel the pain, with nothing left to reason, and only you to blame..."
to stop spewing bile for a minute and be fair about things, it's not like i think you're lying to me. it's not an issue of dishonesty, or feeling swindled, that con artist line notwithstanding. i'm starting to feel like i've been sleeping with dexter morgan: someone who's so incapable of human closeness that the closest he'll ever get to love is, well, a charade. that's the devil's bargain he's struck. preserving the interior darkness, the solitude, at the expense of everything real around him, becoming nothing more than a full-time master of disguise. hmm. sound familiar? i mean, i pour my goddamn heart out to you every time. i've come so close to professing love for you so many times... but i hold back. i hold back for two reasons. one, it's not possible right now. there are complications. but two, i know you can't deal with that. the one time you thought i did that, well, i've never heard you so scared. it's almost like (gasp!) you would've had to feel something risky, something that you couldn't manage or control. so what are we? what is this? what am i?

"and i could stand here waiting, a fool for another day; i don't suppose it's worth the price, you're worth the price, the price that i am paying, but i'm thinking it over anyway..."
i know what i am. loyal. loyal to a fault. loyal to the biggest fault you could imagine. i can be so fucking savage when i want to be, slicing people and things out of my life without a single hesitation. i did it to you once, too. and it was hard. and it hurt. it hurt more than this does, if that's even imaginable. so i've made my own devil's bargain here. i take all of this. i take the darkness, the distance, the limits you place on your affections. i take it because i'm a fool for you. i always will be, apparently, because even as thoroughly enraged as i am, i still won't cut you off. i keep you in my heart. i hold back how i feel. i maintain my own charade, knowing that it's the closest we'll ever get. i won't let it go. you win again. you always do. you get everything you want. meanwhile, here i sit, tied in knots. again. always. you have some kind of charm, you know, and it's something you don't even understand. good thing you don't; i couldn't imagine you in full command of this. you'd be dangerous. i mean, more dangerous than you are right now, that is.

so good night, my dear. sleep the sleep of the just, as you always do. just maybe, if you think about it, consider what this is. think about me, sitting here tonight, tearing myself to shreds over you. ask yourself if the wall you've built around you keeps you as warm as my body does. you need to decide: is the image worth it? or is there something in you that will let you open the door to me? you've got your options. make your choice. because i see you better than you think i do. i know your mind, your heart, a little more than you'd like me to. and my dear, you are so much more than your charade. we are so much more than your charade. think about that the next time you wake up alone.

"i know what you're doing. i see it all too clear."

unmoored

for the first time ever, and i say this without exaggeration, i am 100% on my own. no parental supervision, no main boy, not even a casual screw in my life. it is me and me alone. i can't believe that it's taken me this long to test myself as a grown, independent woman. i always prided myself on being headstrong and independent, and i think i've done a pretty good job of projecting that image into the world. but it was a false kind of strength; i knew it was pretty low-risk to take all these stands, because there was always that emotional safety net to catch me.

so here i go again on my own, as the song says. for real. i don't have that comfort to fall back on. i have got to learn how to soothe myself, how to cope, how to be whole as just myself. hell, this is an opportunity that's been a long time coming. for so long, i was part of an other. jesus, my nickname in college was the first letter of my first name. not even the letter itself; just the hard consonant sound. see, if you stuck that letter on the end of my man's name, it formed a word. so that was my identity: the letter at the end of the word. suited those people and their antediluvian, hyper-traditional worldview just fine. it didn't feel right then, but what did i know? i was so happy to be part of something that i never once stopped to think what i was giving up to be part of it.

but alas, as most houses of cards do, that illusion fell apart. here i sit, alternately so excited and so scared. the fears are real, and they feel so freaking huge that, when they hit, it's almost like i'm being consumed whole by doubts. but then there are nights like this, when the possibility of all this freedom shines through the trepidation. this is the time to seize the day. and it's weird to do this without a net. i always thought i'd have someone with me at all times. i don't know what it's like to approach things from this viewpoint. but you know something? i'm ready to learn. it's going to suck sometimes. but it's also going to be a real, true accomplishment. and the accomplishment will be all mine.

time for me to set sail.

appomattox

sometimes, in the cold light of morning, you wake up and realize that you've lost. the troops are scattered, the fort is burning, and the cause is gone forever. this is one of those days. i got out of bed with a dull, thudding headache and the weight of the world on my chest. the headache made sense; that's what happens when you drink too much. but the weight? that eluded me for a minute... until i turned around and saw him lying there asleep.

and just like that, there it was. it hit me like a ten-ton truck that there was something so fake about this that it hurt to even see him there. it's not even his fault. he never lied to me, not once. he told me a long time ago what we were doing, and moreover what we weren't doing. i asked him once, "why am i not dateable?" i couldn't stand the ambiguity anymore; i needed him to tell me what was happening. there are obvious logistical reasons, but he's decided that it's just not worth the "risk" to take a chance on me as more than... i don't even know anymore.

and i still spent the entire weekend wanting his company, just to be near him, to the point where i invited him in last night just to sleep next to me. i just wanted him there. then i woke up and saw what i had done. no. unacceptable. i felt so freaking DESPERATE. it's not that he doesn't like me. it's not that we aren't good friends. it's that i keep trying to make something when there's clearly never going to be anything. and the simple reality of that finally sunk in, after all this time. i need to put some space between us for awhile, i think, to make the lesson sink in, but the fact remains that it's finally dawned on me that this is one more thing that i've lost lately. i don't know how much more i can take of this, but if i want to keep someone important to me around, this is a necessary loss.

i get it. finally. i surrender.

one step up

[soundtrack]

"we're the same sad story, that's a fact; one step up and two steps back..."
i know by now that you know. you have the sense that there's something wrong. your voice is hard when we talk. there's distance. you don't call me. the last time i saw you, there was a definite space between us, one that even i felt. frankly, i was surprised at how that space still, somehow, managed to hurt me. just a little, but it definitely hurt, a dull ache deep in my soul, under all the anger, the frustration and the exasperation. sometimes things blow up when they end, loud, ugly confrontations that tear and rip and wake the neighbors. i kinda thought that's how it would go down with us, given how passionate and irrational our relationship has always been. but maybe i miscalculated. maybe this thing will just die quietly, no fanfare, no screaming. just... thud.

"i'm sitting here in this bar tonight, but all i'm thinking is i'm the same old story, same old act..."
i've always thought of myself as special, different, even better than most people. i'm an only child with above-average intelligence, decent looks and a good work ethic, so that gives me a pretty damn good ego. but the older i get, the more i realize that i am not anywhere near as unique as i used to think i was. i am, at my heart, pretty freaking run of the mill. the way i chose to conduct myself at the end of this has been pretty ignominious, to be sure, but it's also been cliched. i pushed you away. i sought refuge in other recreations. i took up drinking, ran the streets with my friends, and basically behaved like an adolescent for most of this. some mature, rational person i am, eh? instead of metaphorically manning up, facing the music and owning it, i just... yeah.

"it's the same thing night on night, who's wrong, baby, who's right. another fight and i slam the door on another battle in our dirty little war..."
we don't fight much. when we do, it's epic. i can be so goddamned vicious when i want to. i cut. i aim low. when i am wounded, i want everyone else around me to feel the pain i do. but that's no way to run a railroad. that's probably the biggest sign that we're doomed: i won't even invest enough of my heart in you anymore to scald you. when i think of you, it hurts my heart, like pushing on a bruise that just won't heal. but there's just no energy to hurt back. none. i just want it to stop. i want the door closed behind me. and i think that's what's going to end up happening, one way or another.

"when i look at myself i don't see the man i wanted to be..."
i fought so hard for this over the years. i changed so much, sacrificed so hard, rearranged the universe in the image i thought would work for us. and look where it got me: sitting here alone tonight, torn of soul and weary of spirit, with my heart pulled in so many different directions i can't stand it. and most of all, i just want to forget i ever met you. i want every single damned reminder of everything we were pushed away, never to be discussed again. i want you locked away. and when i admit that to myself, i feel sleazy, cheap, and most disturbing, like a total failure. i thought i could will this relationship through anything. clearly, i cannot. and my god, that's the worst failure of them all.

"somewhere along the line i stepped off track, one step up and two steps back."

aspirations

so i think it's time to take this little enterprise next level. what little enterprise? everything in my life. i have got to start striving a little harder, all the way around. i was always so freaking happy as a kid when i had goals, something to work towards. i mean, i was a wicked procrastinator, and a touch of an underachiever in a couple of areas (calculus, i'm looking at you). but work has always given me my grounding, made me happy, and helped me define who i am. well, except for that little patch of wandering in the wilderness there in the middle. between undergrad and law school, i just... coasted, i guess, is the best word for it. and that was MISERABLE. god, the more i look back on it, the more i realize that every day i just did whatever was bare-minimum necessary, with no aim other than a) earn paycheck and b) spend paycheck, i was killing the parts of me that made me who i am. not acceptable AT ALL.

so here i sit, having just logged about a 12-hour day reviewing for the bar exam (gaah, less than two months), and you'd think that would be misery. nope; i am pretty freaking satisfied, all things considered. i am on my way to building my life as it should've been built all along. i am through wasting time. i am trying, i am working, and i am achieving. work may sound like a weird way to define yourself; i know we're all supposed to be about our emotional connections, etc., etc., etc. "i don't let my job define me!" well, yeah, you don't let your employer define you. but you damn well better have something to define yourself with, and in my case, it's my legal life. i am going to be the best damn tax lawyer i can possibly be. i will define myself by my profession, my achievements and my resume. i'm done drifting. it's time to get back to what made me: being just remarkably good at what i do. arrogant? maybe. but i can back it up. let's do the damn thing, starting today.

do what you have to do

[soundtrack]

"every moment marked with apparitions of your soul; i'm ever swiftly moving, trying to escape this desire..."
here we are again, separated by so much and so little all at once. you have no idea how much you consume my mind, how badly i want to own you, body, mind and soul, forever. you'll grant me a little of you, that's true. you spend time with me, you'll go places with me, hang out and laugh, and when it's convenient for you, you'll climb into my bed and do your level best to get as much out of me for as little of you as you can get away with. not that i don't very much enjoy that; quite the contrary. what you give me feels wonderful in the moment. you make me feel in the moment like the center of your universe. but, really, that's not true. and my god, this is starting to hurt. these walls you build around yourself may as well be a million miles high as far as i'm concerned, but you tell people how close we are like it's nothing to you. how true can that statement be?

"deep within i'm shaken by the violence of existing for only you..."
you've brokered these deals with everyone in your life, and the more i look at it, the more it makes no goddamn sense to me. we all get bits of you, some of us more than others, but you place heavy conditions on all of this. sometimes it wears on us to have to dance for you, my dear. sometimes, we get sick of humoring you. it's true. it would be nice to have more than a not-quite-as-equal-as-mutual admiration society with you. but that's what it is. and strangely enough, it's addicting to be under someone's sway like this. i must be the biggest goddamn masochist on the planet when it comes to you. how can you get in my head so much? i just can't stop. you're, honestly, not that good to me sometimes. and yet, here i sit, wishing like nothing else that you were here, holding me, even at arm's length.

"and i have the sense to recognize that i don't know how to let you go..."
i have devoted so much of my heart, my mind and my soul to trying like hell to convince you to give me a chance. when i broke your will and got into your bed - silly me, i thought that would be enough to get me into your heart. but that won't happen. not now, not ever. and i'm hurt beyond belief at this. i can't tell you, as if i ever would, how deeply this cuts me. you know how to do it; you've cut me before by accident. but this is pain i can't even express. i would walk to the ends of the goddamn earth for you, a thousand times over. i still will, and i will forever. as hurt and angry as this makes me, it doesn't change anything about that. i am so hopelessly devoted to you, in every sense of the word "hopeless." every sense but one, that is; i can't make myself believe that it's a totally lost cause. it is, mind you; i just can't make myself believe it. i still hold the germ of hope in my heart that someday, somehow, i can get you to be mine.

see, i care about you, my dear, a lot more than you know. and that makes us both pretty stupid.

"i know i can't be with you. i do what i have to do."

fight

the things we fight for in life can be strange sometimes. the things we refuse to fight for, on the other hand, are way more illustrative. in prizefighting, there comes a time in certain fights when they throw in the towel, ceding the conquest to the opponent out of sheer self-preservation. there's a lot about the end of a relationship that's the same as that. when the end comes, you look around at the wreckage that your life has become, and you stand up and say, "enough." you're not supposed to have to fight that hard at love. sure, you need to work at some of it, but there's supposed to be at least some refuge somewhere for you in that love. when all you're doing is desperately grasping at threads, trying like all hell to weave something together that was never meant to hang that way in the first place, it's time to throw in the towel.

this is usually the time when someone would say, "nothing worth having comes without some kind of fight." okay. true. nothing worth having is free of conflict. but there's a tipping point past which sustaining something makes so little sense that it's harmful to keep it up. when you get there, and believe me, it happens to all of us at least once in our lives, you have to have the self-preservation instinct to give up the fight. walk away alive. it's the greatest gift you can give yourself.

chia-like, i shall grow

thanks to a random act of bloggy generosity, i went to a wine tasting today. (thanks!) it was just the sort of thing i used to love to do in my old life, the one thing i liked to do for myself in the time when i wasn't myself. i really like good wine, learning about it, discovering new blends, vintages, vineyards, etc. after i went to the tasting, a new friend and i went to dinner at one of my favorite places in this town. dinner on the patio, right there in the smack middle of the crazy busy city that i love so well.

tonight, for the first time since all the weirdness began a few years back, i finally started to get a sense that a corner has been rounded. yeah, the next few months are going to hurt like a bastard. there's no getting around this. but there are little green tendrils of hope sprouting in my life. i'm starting to prove to myself that i, alone, can forge a life. i knew this intellectually all along, mind you, but there's a huge element of fear attached to making a change of this magnitude. i can now look at myself in the mirror and say, "self, you can do this. look; here's the evidence." with careful attention to detail, and a willingness to cast off the reticence and just freaking DO IT ALREADY, this will happen.

hell. i got myself a law degree in the midst of all of this. if i can do that, i can do ANYTHING. i can emerge from this fog, blink into the sun and get a freaking LIFE, even if it happens a decade too late. those little sprouts will become a pretty nice garden if i tend them right. tonight was the first step. let's do the damn thing.

rock star

it's the dream we all have, i think. everyone wants to find their soul mate, the person who takes one look at you and says, "yes. you are perfect just as you are, and i love you more than life itself." and then one day, BAM. there it is. there's that person who sees you, looks you over, and decides that you are everything good and right and true in the world. and because of the strength of that feeling, you find yourself saying the same thing about your lover.

the feeling of being IN LOVE, just gobsmacked out of your mind in infatuation, is so powerful that it can cover a lot of things that really need to be seen. for example, it can pretty much obscure the fact that the scenario i'm describing is not at all a mutual building of trust and respect. it's a squealing teenage pop fan on the occasion of meeting a jonas brother or whatever. that person doesn't see you as a soul mate. you're a rock star. it's a fabulously dizzying level of flattery to be that to someone. the pedestal feels good under your feet; the spotlight warms your skin and makes you look amazing. you can feel the constant waves of adulation wash over you.

but you know, at the end of the day, that one-way street of worship can feel pretty hollow. you look across that table, and what you see is a... sycophant, really. this isn't love. love builds you up, creates a framework for a future. rock-star life doesn't give you that. respect is so, so vital, and when you're the rock star, it is so, so missing. you don't have a respect-based life. you have a charade, a performance, a crystal cage. and there comes a time when the crystal cage has to shatter, once and for all, so that you can brush off the debris, shake off the hangover, take stock of the damage and get yourselves back.

at some point, the house lights come up. the show will eventually be over.

work

[your soundtrack]

"if you only once would let me, only just one time, then be happy with the consequence of whatever's gonna happen tonight..."
i think it was when your hand grazed my thigh that i knew what i was up against. i mean, it's not like this is something i didn't see coming. we've been down this road before. you have power, and you wield it well. you're a man among boys, just the way i like it. but there are a few small... concerns, i'll say, with all of this. no one's writing a romance novel or a taylor swift song about this one. if this goes down, it's going to be rough, it's going to be dark. there won't be blood, but it'll be close.

"don't think we're not serious. when's it ever not? the love we make is give and it's take; i'm game to play along..."
most people look at an opportunity like this as something recreational. we know better, you and i. sure, there's an element of fun about this. you'll have one hell of a time with me, honey, and you know it. but this isn't a game. there's potential to tear things that should never be torn, open up all manner of avenues that may not be good. you come with a list of complications a mile long. you've got secrets. some i know; others i'd never want to find out, i think. better this way. maybe we shouldn't get too close. it'll complicate things further. would the reward be worth the risk? that's your gamble, isn't it?

"i can't say i was never wrong, but some blame rests on you. work and play, they're never okay to mix the way we do..."
all my life, i've played games with this stuff, but never like this. i never got into the nuclear warhead theory of sex. it's not something i do. but this is a whole new level we find ourselves at, isn't it? you know, i could say you started this. loose lips don't just sink ships; they start conflagrations. ah, but it takes two to tango, to banter, to be wildly inappropriate in the most dangerous ways. i've never been as intrigued as i am with you. that's the part that gives me pause. i don't think i can stay in control of this, and i don't think you can either. we have the potential to create something so white-hot, so powerful, and so amazingly destructive that i don't think either one of us could ever harness that energy.

and yet, i just can't stop thinking about your hand on my thigh, your complete unwillingness to maintain the charade. you are reckless. you're crazy. and you've got my full and undivided attention. your move.

"can we take a ride? get out of this place while we still have time..."

louisiana [TRUE STORY]

i depart from fiction today to write a long-overdue love note to the state that's been my home for the last three years. when i left home to go to law school in louisiana, i was really disillusioned with things as they were. i was in a rut, plain and simple. it was time for a change, time to shake things up. but i had no idea whatsoever what lay in store for me when i arrived in baton rouge on july 31, 2007 to start my career at LSU paul m. hebert law center.

leaving a major city to go back to a college town had its downsides. there's no doubt about it. but a funny thing happened to me as i grew into my new life: as much as i missed what i'd left, i came to love LSU, its people, and the state as a whole. LSU was an amazing place to spend three years. i had brilliant professors who broke me of my old way of looking at the world and rebuilt me into a sound legal mind. i am profoundly different intellectually than i was when i got here, and for that i will be forever grateful. LSU law center made me a mature thinker, and moreover made me a mature person. aside from the main business at hand, though, LSU brought me some incredible people. my nearest and dearest from PMH know who they are. i'm not sure i ever made this clear enough in our three years together, and if i didn't, that was my fault. but this is for y'all: thank you so, so much for all the love and support you showed me. i never would've made it without you. you held me up when i was sure i couldn't go on, you laughed with me, you listened to me. i only hope i can be as good a friend to each of you as you've been to me over the years. i love you all.

and it's weird; i never saw it coming, but it's true what they say about living in louisiana. it's unlike any place else in the country, and probably any place else on earth. i grew up in the deep south; 17 years as a gulf coast kid made me think i understood southern life. i had no idea what i was in for. louisiana is a jewel among places in our country, even with its flaws. there is no place more special. there's a way of life here that can't be replicated anywhere else, and it's something to be cherished. when you read about this oil spill and what it threatens, understand that it threatens something so valuable, so irreplaceable in american life that it should inspire everyone to demand solutions now. the people here have suffered long enough, as rep. melancon so eloquently stated this week.

there's a lot about this place that makes me angry. there's a lot that frustrates me. but for everything i don't like, there are five things i love about louisiana. the deep love i hold in my heart for new orleans alone could fill a book. if you ever need to know about south louisiana, others have said it way better than i could ever say. but know that once you've lived here, once you've laughed all night long on the streets of new orleans with your friends over rum drinks, once you've experienced boudin balls, crawfish boils and cochon de lait, once you've watched the sun find its home in the western sky as it becomes saturday night in tiger stadium, you just know. and you'll never be the same again.

i love my yankee, big-city mid-atlantic home. i am thrilled beyond belief to get back to what i knew before. but i am forever changed. i'm a law-school graduate now, and that's great. but i've also given a part of my heart and soul to the sportsman's paradise, the pelican state, the bayou, the big easy. louisiana is in my blood forever now, and i wouldn't have it any other way. the fleur-de-lis that hangs around my neck is only a small token of the way louisiana has changed me, got into me, and made me who i am today. i love this place for that. always will. so as i get ready to fly back to my old life, i leave a piece of myself behind. i sure never expected to fall for this place as i did. but for what you gave me, what you made me, and what you showed me, louisiana, i have only one thing to say:

thanks.

t-shirt

it doesn't look like much, that's for sure. it's an old, white giveaway t-shirt from some college something or other, just a random tchotchke designed to lull nineteen-year-old kids into throwing their money away on some stupid gimmick or scam. but what it lacks in elegance or style, this t-shirt more than makes up for in symbolism. see, i stole it from him. nothing he'll miss. i've known girls who'd take something near and dear to their conquests, wear them around like badges of honor. it's really conspicuous, and it makes a definite statement of "he's MINE, bitches." by stealing such a nondescript totem from the boy, i've made this a lot more about me than about him.

the night was long, one of those hazy celebratory evenings where the party never really ends, just sort of fades away. without really meaning to, we ended up outside alone together, unwinding in the sticky summer air, drinking beer and trying to one up each other in that subtle way that newly minted lovers do. a hand resting lazily on my knee, he smiled at me and suggested a more suitable environment for our discourse. i gladly accepted, and as we moved further into our relationship that night, i knew something had fundamentally changed in me. something had come loose, changed, altered itself, and there was no turning back. when he left, there was a rumpled white t-shirt lying on my floor. must've been an undershirt or something; i didn't really take inventory of what he came in with. i took it, slipped it on, and breathed in his scent as i drifted back to sleep, smiling at the memory and confident in the path we were taking together.

funny how things change over time. that ran its course; we parted ways on the best of terms, as well we should have. i still see him every so often, and that smile is still something that sparks in me. but there's a wistfulness in the way we interact now. we're very different people these days, and it's never clearer than when we talk. but i can look at that t-shirt, which still sits in my dresser drawer, and remember what it was like to take such pleasure in something so small. no greater gift a lover can leave you than the gift of just being happy. that's what he gave me, and that's what his t-shirt means to me.

adults

i know i'm grown. it's pretty much obvious at this point; i've lived outside a parent's supervision for over 10 years now, i've paid my taxes for just as long, and i know about things like buying insurance and paying doctor's bills. but tonight was one of those nights that reinforces to me that i am definitely, irrevocably and completely GROWN UP. y'know, a WOMAN and all that.

i had dinner with some friends, and we chatted about everything and nothing for awhile. one of these folks has a distinctly entrepreneurial bent, and somehow, he got inspired about something as we talked. fast-forward two hours, and he, with a few items of input from the rest of us, is well on his way to hatching the NEXT BIG IDEA. he even had questions for me. stuff like this makes me nervous. i know that i know a fair amount, but i'm not always 100% confident in my intellect, especially when i've been drinking (like i did tonight - hell, it was a birthday party). but he was genuinely interested in a) what i know about my field and b) how that knowledge could work for his idea.

now if that ain't adulthood, i don't know what is. i don't recall exactly when it was that we passed the point where all we talked about was relationships, TV shows, sports and hooking up. but i guess this is how it goes. we're all almost 30, if not already there. there's a thirtieth birthday party for one of us (not me, thank the gods) coming up in a couple of weeks. we talk about business, our livelihoods, our careers, etc. now. good god. i have relevant things to add to these conversations. we all do. we are so not kids anymore. i don't know whether it's liberating or scary. a lot from column A, a little from column B, i think.

tonight drove home some truths about my life, my attitude towards things, and how i've evolved over the years. but it also shows me that it's not just me that's evolving; it's all of us. well, almost all of us, anyway. to quote the bible (i know, an atheist quoting the bible; it's weird): when i was a child, i spoke like a child, i thought like a child, i reasoned like a child; when i became an adult, i put an end to childish ways. (for those keeping score at home, that's 1 corinthians 13:11.) this is really what's happened in my life; i've (largely) moved past the silliness of my childhood. i'm grown now. and because i am grown, it's time to check in with all the things in my life, no matter how good they are, and see what matches my adulthood. if something i'm clinging to can't match up with the reality of adulthood, it's time to put an end to it.

well. to quote the immortal blink-182, i guess this is growing up. in a way, it sucks. but really, i wouldn't have it any other way.

open up

and then there are nights like this, when caution is thrown to the wind, artifice is dropped, and, frankly, demands are made. a girl can only be coy for so long, especially when it comes to a man like you. you know it, too, don't you? you have to understand by now that the admiration society we've built for each other goes way beyond a love of sarcasm and overtime hockey games. and the fact that no one really knows how you are makes it that much more attractive. mmm. you're my best-kept secret, aren't you?

so this is when i show you just how much you rock me. how much you cut me to my core, move me in ways i don't fully understand. i can hear you now, being confronted with this. "oh, really." it's not a question. it's more of an acknowledgement. your arms close around me, your lips find mine, and you're officially in control. you like it, too. i know you do. it suits you. you know that kiss is almost more than i can bear, and you use it with deadly accuracy. target hit.

in the dark, i can show you exactly what you mean to me. i can open everything up, lay myself bare, and offer you all that i have to give you. you confess quite a bit yourself. with every move you make, every brush of your hand against the small of my back, every sweep of your mouth across my skin, you show me who you really are. i want more. i want to curl myself around you and drink from you over and over again. you always oblige. as the night becomes the morning, we tear into each other, first tenderly, then viciously. the walls come down and our true colors show. we wear each other out, falling limp against one another as the gray light streams into the room. one last kiss, cementing what we've done, and the moment is gone.

in your way, you're a predator. but you're also a benefactor. you walk through me, take what you want, and leave so much more behind. you could never say aloud what you tell me when we're alone together. words don't do it justice. only this, only what we've done, and what we continue to do, can show what we are to each other. everything we've ever been, summed up in that slow, smooth kiss. i open my lips. tell me.

moving in monday minute [TRUE STORY]

courtesy of ian, as always...

1 - Do you *snort*?
not in the context of laughter. often, i snort with derision.

2 - Our friend has a nickname and it's Daffy. What's your nickname?
magnolia is the one i use the most. in undergrad, everyone called me by my first initial. see, if you put my boyfriend's name together with my first initial, it formed a word. in retrospect, it was pretty freaking retrograde; the man's name, the woman's initial. gaah. i like magnolia. but in law school, people occasionally called me "city girl." that was cool, too.

3 - Do you know sign language?
nope. i went through my ASL phase when i read the baby-sitters club books about the deaf kid, but it never stuck. i wish i knew some, but there are only 24 hours in every day.

4 - What's a sample convo from your hood?
around here, you're likely to hear anything from a mom talking to her kid in spanish to hipster weirdos on their way to the hipster weirdo bar down the street. i have SO missed this neighborhood.

5 - Do you sleep with electronic devices - i.e. laptop, Blackberry, iPhone, etc?
absolutely. just today, i awoke with my iphone next to my head. i ALWAYS have my phone nearby, regardless of circumstance.

platonic

here's how you know you really, really love one of your friends. you see this person in trouble, you go out of your way to support your friend through a horrifically rough time, and when you know full good and well you could get exactly what you want, you pull yourself back from the edge and say no. impulse control, in spite of alcohol, temptation, and incredibly open talk. that's how you know you walk the walk and talk the talk with your friends. that's how you know that sometimes, just sometimes, it's enough to be a friend to someone. you don't have to be anything more, regardless of how immediately desirable it would be. the mere threat of long-term disaster, not to mention the fact that there's always a morning after that changes how things look, is enough to pull you back from the brink. and believe me, there's always a brink there. but being able to look that danger in the face and turn it back? well. that's how you know you're really a friend, someone who can be trusted to help someone in need. there's an element of pride in that, no matter how tempting the short-term gain is. if it's meant to be, it's meant to be. but vulnerability, pain, and sorrow are only beaten back with restraint, empathy, and long-term vision. and if you can do that, well, you've already proven your worth as a friend.

lucky you

[your soundtrack]

"and every time you're driving home, way outside your safety zone, wherever you will ever be, you're never getting rid of me."
scars are funny things. most of the time, once the wound has healed and faded down to nothing but a pale shadow of itself, you don't even notice that there's anything left. but every so often, in passing, you notice that the skin that used to be so taut, so smooth, is now thick and irregular. the lines twist over your body, letting you know in no uncertain terms that you. are. changed. you'll never be the whole person you were before; those days are gone forever. it doesn't matter how long ago it happened, but when you notice that scar, you're instantly confronted with the trauma of whatever mauled you. even if the sting of the memory is infinitesimally brief, the sting still jolts you. not all scars are created equal, but all remind you of something you'd just as soon never dwell on again.

"you own me. there's nothing you can do; you own me."
the injured is forever tied to the injurer when the injury leaves a scar. no matter what you do, there's always a connection. when the scar is on the soul, the heart, or the mind, the tethers pull you together even harder. the shared experience of giving and receiving psychic pain creates an iron-clad union between the aggrieved and the menacing. even if you carry on the rest of your days without acknowledging it, there will be one day, when you least expect it, when the sorrow whipsaws through you, leaving you breathless, if only for a second.

"you could've made a safer bet, but what you break is what you get."
breaking someone's heart is never a simple task. there are repercussions far beyond the actual confrontation. maybe you pay for the act in the moment, or maybe you pay later. there's guilt, pain, shame, anger, and the inevitable feeling that you will never, ever be free of that person again, no matter how goddamn much you try. everyone you love, even in passing, gets bonded onto your heart in one way or another. breaking that bond isn't as simple as slicing something off and walking away. pieces rip. the honeybee's stinger is left in the victim's wound. the venom hits its target. the honeybee is torn in half. that's what breaking a heart is. you're left with a piece missing, and no matter how great the relief you may feel, there's the gaping maw left by the part of you that's no longer there.

"you wake up in the bed you make; i think you made a big mistake."
the silent - or not-so-silent - accusation of the lover scorned. it howls at you, nips at your heels at all times. you were right to end it. you are right to be gone. but that doesn't stop the doubts, the hurt, the memory of the wounded eyes staring at you in disbelief. shared love equals shared pain. breaking up is hard to do? heh. don't insult my intelligence. breaking up is murder. plain and simple. once you pull the shrapnel out of your body, shake off the shock of the explosion and collect the scattered debris of your life, you still carry the scars. it doesn't matter who pulls the pin. no one walks away a winner. that's why we stay in bad situations, we linger on with the weight of dead love settling harder onto our chests. the dull pain we know is far better than the unspeakable agony we can see around the corner. when you finally say "enough," when you move past the apathy and act, your reward is the endless connection to your failed past. there are no winners here. there can't be. all there can be is the slamming of a door, the tearing of a fabric, and the slow, throbbing trek towards... well, towards whatever lies ahead. you're changed, now and forever. take the change and move on.

"there's nothing you can do. you own me. you own me. lucky you."

human touch

[your soundtrack for today]

"i ain't looking for your prayers of pity; i ain't comin' 'round searching for a crush..."
you always make things so easy for me. i blow into town every now and again, turn your world upside down for a few days, then disappear. but you never complain. i'm loud, messy and, let's be honest, quite crazy. you spend your money on me, you spend your time on me. i guess you're getting something out of the deal too.

"i just want someone to talk to and a little of that human touch..."
or should i say that i KNOW you're getting something out of the deal. it's the perfect trade-off for a man, i would think: listen to her bitch and act weird for awhile, then take her clothes off. but it's funny; though it sounds totally one-sided (and kinda pathetic, really), i get everything i need from you. i don't need a promise, a vow, some great proclamation of devotion from you. that would actually wreck a really good thing.

"oh girl, that feeling of safety you prize, well, it comes with a hard, hard price..."
this is the devil's bargain i've made. you get your freedom, the most important thing in the world to you. i get just about everything i could want. almost. sometimes the ambiguity tears me up inside. you have this habit of doing things that would, if i didn't know you so well, make it seem like you want more from me. but you don't. i know this. i knew all along that you'd never go there with me in a million years, even though you know i'd cut myself open and bleed for you if you asked me. but you also know that you've got me forever, no matter what.

"you can't shut off the risk and the pain without losing the love that remains..."
so i don't shut it off. i come to this messy, risky adventure with arms wide open. bring it all on; i'm a big girl, i can handle it. i like to let you think i'm tough. i know you know better. but this? oh, this i can tough out for sure. there's enough good here to cancel out the danger, the sleepless nights. at the end of the day, i know where i stand with you. you have your reasons for the way you are. some of them i understand. a lot of them i don't. but just as you take me in spite of my insanity, i take you in spite of your circumspection. that's the way it is.

"you might need someone to hold onto when all the answers, they don't amount to much; somebody that you can just talk to and a little of that human touch..."
so i keep coming back. you do too, for your part. we dance this way time after time, giving everything we have to each other. well, almost. and if that's the cost for feeling this way, i'll pay it gladly. it's worth it.

bar-exam class procrastination [TRUE STORY]

this is a regular monday feature over at ian's. here we go...

Have you ever peed in the shower/bath/pool?
seriously?

What is your biggest pet peeve?
unrealized potential. oh, my god, it KILLS me when smart, capable people underachieve.

What's the story behind your blog title?
when i worked at a gourmet food store in DC after college, my boss noticed that i grew up in the south. he christened me "magnolia" from that day forward. it's the best nickname anyone's ever given me. he was such a great guy. i can still he him saying it. "maaaaag...nolia."

What is your definition of success?
when you do something you love and do it well. emphasis on DO SOMETHING.

If you were famous, what would you want to be famous for?
i want to be famous for doing something of value in this world. politics, law, something.

and as usual:

Click on monkey to donate...please help!

this time of year

[all song lyrics: "this time of year," better than ezra]

"well there's a feeling in the air, just like a friday afternoon..."
the florida night is humid and sultry in mid-may. it's the kind of feeling that makes a girl feel like getting in trouble, and luckily for me, tonight's that kind of night. downtown music festival, my favorite band: the makings of a perfect spring night out. even though i have the ostensible supervision of one of my most rational friends, i know full good and well that a night like this is open to nothing but the best possibilities.

"there's your first car on the road and the girl you steal..."
he's undoubtedly too old for me. that much is obvious from the dog tags, the car keys, and the gigantic cans of foster's he holds in both hands. but that smile. this man - and he is DEFINITELY a man - is not boyfriend material. good thing that's not what i'm out for. with my suddenly extraneous buddy in tow, i make my way to the front of the crowd, right up there by the stage, and right up to the edge of his crew. "hey javier! we need more BEER!" he yells, then turns and looks at me. "oh. hey."

trying very hard not to blush, i take a look at those amazingly gray eyes and say, "hey yourself." head up, chest out, smile and sell it. this just got a LOT more interesting.

"well, i know there's a reason to change..."
"what's your name, hon?" i tell him something that sounds right. i mean, not like it matters tonight. his name is clint, or chris, or something normal and solid. we chat about nothing for awhile, the crowd filling in around us. just then, the guitars start, the lights go up, and the show starts. within five minutes, the sailors around us are drunkenly slam-dancing to the dulcet tones of alterna-pop, something i didn't realize was possible until now. the show is amazing, as always.

"seems like it's always understood this time of year..."
ah, the slower songs. the navy pilots may actually stop chucking beer cans at the stage for a few minutes. no, wait; there goes another one. full this time, too. great. i always wanted to smell like a brewery. i borrowed this shirt from my most sexually successful friend, too. oh well; that's why the good lord gave us washers, i guess. but this girl's got some talents, and her wardrobe's a large part of those talents. the shirt's helping me, too. clint-or-chris can't take his eyes off me. heh. awesome. i have no idea what happened to my buddy; he got swallowed up by the mosh pit twenty minutes ago.

and that's when i feel it. i look to my right, and with no provocation whatsoever, this amazingly beautiful man has his arm around my waist. oh, glory. it worked. this NEVER works for me. and he's leaving it there. oh, man. if he only knew... and that's why he'll never know exactly who i am.

"so go on, let it be, when there's a feeling coming over me..."
just like that, the show's over. i've got maybe twenty minutes to keep up the charade. as the crowds part, and javier starts yelling for clint-or-chris to head over to the bar for last call, he says to me with this delicious smile, "so you coming back tomorrow?"

i'm not, obviously. it's a two-hour drive between here and home. but he doesn't have to know that. "yeah, we'll see. i got a thing tomorrow."

"hey, that's cool. maybe i'll see you around sometime." and the kiss he finishes the word "sometime" with will resonate long after this night is over. right there, in front of hundreds of people, with no regard for anything. just me, this random stranger, the moonlight, the perfect moment. as he turns to go, he shoots that killer smile. "have fun tonight."

that's when i realize that my sweet, rational friend is staring at me, open-mouthed. "oh, my god. did you just do that?"

"yeah. i did, didn't i?" i feel just a little different in this moment than i did the moment before. more beautiful, more exotic, more... grown, i guess. oh yeah. this is the kinda night i like. i don't ever want to lose this feeling: the rock star, the trophy, the girl who's so beautiful and perfect that he has to kiss me right there. there's nothing in this world i want more.

we turn and head towards the meeting place. my dad's picking us up in ten minutes. eleventh grade just got a ton more interesting. and hell, it's almost summer. there'll be nothing but mugginess, moonlight, and time to kill. and i'll own every last second of it.

"yeah, you can feel it in the air, feelin' right this time of year."

a moment for something real [TRUE STORY]

this nice woman's name is michelle, and her baby girl has cancer. just awful. so ian has spearheaded a fundraiser campaign for their family. it's an awesome cause. so here's the link to the paypal campaign:

Click on monkey to donate...please help!

seriously, look at that face. she is one cute baby with a serious, serious problem. this is just about the worst thing that can happen to a family, so if you have anything to give, this is a good cause. thanks.

unfettered nostalgia

oh, friends, today is a red-letter day in my personal universe. not only do i have a brand-new LEGIT DVD set of the little-watched MTV show the maxx, but i also received my long, long, LONG awaited DVD collection, legit as well, of probably my favorite show of all time, daria.

oh, my lord, it's perfect. all the things i loved in high school, which was probably the last time i really felt like myself, coming back to me at last. i feel like i had the reverse experience that most people had with youth. a lot of people i know were, if not abjectly miserable in high school, always felt a little off. i never felt off. i was totally confident, a raging ball of energy, possibility and good-natured cynicism. i had a clique of like-minded friends, i wasn't the target of teenage abuse, and i really felt like anything in the world was possible. when i look back on high school, the memories are all over-saturated with color and sunshine. i was on top of the freaking world.

it wasn't until college, and beyond, when things started unraveling. that's when the fierce assurance that the world was my oyster was punctured, when my confidence was shaken and challenged, and when i started to define myself by other people and other things. i lost sight of who i was independent of others. that, my dears, is a BAD, BAD sign. and that's how i got myself into the situation i'm in today. sigh.

but it's funny; now that law school is over and i'm making strides towards the life i used to imagine, i can feel the ol' mojo coming back. it's tempered a little by the hard knocks i've taken over time, to be sure, but i am starting to feel more like the girl i was before. that's the one thing that, while i will be in for some pain in the short term, will sustain me as i make my way into the great wide open, under them skies of blue. these little doses of nostalgia are fun, entertaining and interesting, to be sure. but they're also reminders that there was a time when i answered to only myself when it came to my dreams and my future. they're reminders that i can go back there again, that i can reclaim what i was and shape what i will be, no alternate influence required.

monday, monday [TRUE STORY]

another monday, another monday minute. incidentally, head over to ian's blog and read up on monkey. poor kid. throw some love her family's way; that's a hell of a thing.

1. How old do you act?
it totally depends on the day and the circumstances. i can be as staid and proper as a grandmother, or i can be thoroughly adolescent. there's no rhyme or reason.

2. As far back as you can remember, what did you want to be when you grew up?
i always wanted to be a lawyer. in 1985, there was a picture of four-year-old me in our local hometown paper, with my face buried in the code of alabama. there were some detours, but if all goes well with the bar exam, i'll have made it to my dream by october, when i'm scheduled to be sworn in.

3. If you were to write a book based on your life, what would the title be?
one step up. it's a springsteen reference.

4. What's something you do that's considered "childish" by most?
i hold grudges like a champion, on behalf of myself and on behalf of others. (a friend of mine has an ex-girlfriend who had better pray to every god she can think of that we never cross paths again, and their relationship ended 10 years ago this summer.) most people don't think that's a very adult thing to do.

5. The last question isn't a question. Write a story of a time of when you or someone you know overcame great adversity.
i've alluded to my mother's issues before. i view my life as a total triumph over weirdness, brokenness and tragedy in that department. i've been lucky. there's no doubt about it.

all falling into place

one week. one lousy week left in the bible belt. a mere seven days from now, i will be steadily rolling up the interstate, back to the place and people i love. i made the final arrangements today, and it's all locked down.

my reflections on my time here are complex, to say the least. that essay is coming for sure. but one thing is very clear: i cannot wait to get on with my life. i am thrilled beyond measure to tick down the seconds. so tonight, i'll raise a glass (or eight) with my beloved classmates and friends one last time. then i'll go home, pack some boxes, say my goodbyes, and drive out of here with the radio blasting and the sun shining all the way down the road ahead.

it's been a long time coming.

love means never having to say you're sorry

i've withheld saying much about this, mostly out of shock. i'm a little numb; charlottesville is a place i've loved in my life. i dig that town, and i've had amazing times there. there are connections in this debacle to the little mountain town where i started my college career. this one cuts kinda close to the bone.

i hate how everyone's always shocked when pretty white people are murdered. i wonder how many poor people, how many minorities, and how many other of the out-of-power folks in this world. but the fact that people really only care about this because a beautiful white girl was brutally murdered by a crazy thuggish fool doesn't change the fact that this girl was murdered by a crazy thuggish fool, one who once claimed to love her.

(note: i usually refrain from talking in these terms about people accused of crimes. the guy here admitted that he killed her; the only thing left to determine is what punishment he'll get and under what circumstances he killed her.)

intense, damaged people under the influence of intense, powerful emotions do intense and dangerous things. there's no doubt in my mind that no one ever saw something like this coming out of a well-heeled white boy like our hero. but his amazing athletic ability - he was one of UVA's leading scorers this year - provided pretty good cover, didn't it? no one thinks that privileged, successful people can possibly cave to base, animal instincts. but here we clearly have a guy with some problems. bad, bad problems. i've been angry, desperate and confused in my life, powerfully so, but i never crossed into that place that he went to.

let me be blunt: romantic violence is not the province of the poor, the uneducated and the addled. we tend to envision the victims of these crimes as either tragic inner-city single moms or tragic big-haired country-song caricatures. but here's the ultimate illusion-burster. this girl had everything: supportive family, brains, money, social status. these are supposed to be cultural failsafes. but one deranged, broken boy pierced every defense around this girl, and in the small hours of the morning, as he cracked, he rendered every advantage she had thoroughly, tragically and emphatically irrelevant.

i've been lucky, beyond lucky, in this life to have a long and intense education, amazing friends and caring family members. but i've seen some ugly things from people who said they loved me. i've suffered this. so many women, in similar station as me, have too. i've avoided serious consequences. but there's no special saving grace for anyone here. perhaps, just perhaps, seeing the naked brutality with which this girl's life was ended will jolt us as a nation into doing something about this.

maybe we'll watch out for our friends more now. and not just the girls, either. this isn't about protecting the supposedly weak here. this is about paying attention to those around us, and if we see some signs that the demons are getting the better of our friends, we'll say something before the darkness takes over. it's never an easy thing to do. my friends had no idea how to say something to me when things were weird in bad relationships. but this should show us once and for all that the consequences of doing nothing may be far, far greater than we could ever fear.

love doesn't mean blamelessness. but it should mean a modicum of safety. it should be positive, supportive, nourishing. no one should ever die for love. ever.

the en-sleek-ening: summing up [TRUE STORY]

well, thus ends the 30-day yoga boot camp. here are the stats:

classes purchased: 30
classes taken: 27 (missed one for a 101-degree fever, one for the end of law school, and today for the sunburn from hell)
pounds lost: 8-10, depending on the day. it's vacillated.

that's pretty much all i can give you for hard data. but man, oh man, do i feel so much better! i am supremely happy, i'm definitely toned up (especially in my arms), i can do a ten-breath shoulder stand without wobbling, and i'm a lot more flexible than i was at the start. i can put both my heels down when i'm in down dog, i can almost touch my chest to my legs in forward fold, and i feel like my old dancer-girl self again. this is one of the best things i've done for myself in a long, long time. i won't stick to the same strict regime i've followed this month, most likely, especially not with all the craziness to come in may, but i will keep taking classes, and i will work at least some sun salutations into my day as often as possible.

yoga. it works, bitches. :)

the waiting

the best word for the next ten days would be "interregnum." all i can do right now is wait. i am waiting for my living money to come, so that i can get my place, get my stuff ready, and get myself the hell out of here. there's so much waiting for me on the other side of a thousand miles of interstate: my friends, my city, my new life.

kinda, anyway. even though this'll be such a freeing, amazing summer, it's an interregnum in its own right. i mean, it's only a temporary lull in the stressful period of... tension... that is my personal life. as soon as the summer ends, i'll be right back where i started from, and the waiting will begin again. the timing has to be perfect. if it's not perfect, the whole thing will be botched.

but you know what? now, tonight, is not the time to focus on that. not even close. i'm going to pay attention to how wonderful it will be to pull up in front of that house, to walk into the open arms of my nearest and dearest, to lose myself in that old/new reality, no matter how temporary it will be. this will be so good, and so, so, SO worth the waiting.

time to play

it's another daily dose of reality questionnaire. let's go.

1 - How much would you have to be paid to eat a human cadaver's finger?
gaaaaaaah. at least eight figures.

2 - Describe the worst physical fight you've ever been in.
haha. i was four. i had a meek and mild friend who had been the brunt of one of those playground bullies in our kindergarten class, and that kind of unchecked aggression just would not stand. i marched up to him in the recess yard, shoved him down so hard he hit the ground like a sack of wet cement, and yelled, "you made [my friend] cry. don't do it again!" i retired from fighting undefeated.

3 - Name one song that if you never heard it ever again, you'd be thrilled.
oh, i hate so many songs. god, it's hard to pick. the latest thing that offended me to my very core is the new version of "one shining moment," y'know, that song they play at the end of the NCAA basketball tournament, done by jennifer what's-her-name-from-american-idol. good lord, she made me miss luther vandross. that's unacceptable.

4 - Describe the "drunkest" situation you've ever been.
ooh, it's either new year's eve/day this year, or the night before the NFC championship game this year. take your pick. we were all just BOMBED both of those nights. it's kind of miraculous we all survived and woke up in the places we intended to wake up. (and i still owe a debt of gratitude a MILE wide to our DD for new year's.)

5 - What's your biggest regret?
parts of my twenties. that's all i'll say.

destruction [TRUE STORY]

so as i sit here today, there's a giant pile of oil threatening the state i'm about to leave. my god, it's going to be the most brutal ecological disaster we've seen in a generation, if not worse. the beaches i've spent my life on are about to get besmirched beyond recognition. the wetlands that defend this state from hurricanes are about to get wiped out for perhaps a generation. the people who run the national oceanic and atmospheric administration are SCARED. there goes tourism, fishing, the two or three things these folks have left.

i don't know how to articulate my rage. we've been irresponsible for a long time about energy. ah, the insouciance of the american public when it comes to something that's not an immediate crisis. "eh, no big deal. we've got time to figure this out. hey, check out my new yukon denali SUV - it holds thirty-seven people AND their hockey gear!" well, guess what. time's up. miners are dying. oil slicks are about to destroy a large portion of the south. WAKE. UP. sweet lord, something has to be done. and you know what, people out there in the teabagger toddler-ocracy that is the american electorate? IT'S GOING TO SUCK.

things will not be freewheeling and fun the way that the supply-siders told you it would thirty years ago. what we need to do as a country (and by god, this goes for ALL areas of policy, not just this) is to figure out a long-term plan to a) figure out what's wrong, b) prioritize the problems, and c) go about SOLVING THEM. politics is not supposed to be glib, sound-bite friendly, or entertaining. it's supposed to be hard. it's supposed to be smart. it's supposed to take time. if we don't stop electing idiots to office, and i call 'em like i see 'em, we're never gonna get there. you'll end up with stupid, short-sided laws like the arizona "stop all the brown people" rule, that don't SOLVE ANYTHING.

maybe it's me. i am an educated, thoughtful person. (only child much?) but i have one expectation: THINK. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, THINK. what's about to happen to my gulf coast is only the tip of the iceberg if we don't start thinking.

my broken hockey heart [TRUE STORY]

GAAAAAAAAH.

i must've used all my sports magic up with the saints this year. sigh. my beloved capitals. done. just awful. we're now a laughingstock. ovechkin's just a thuggish hack, apparently, compared to angelic north-american saint sidney. this is worse than the 2004 ALCS. hell, at least the yankees GOT to the ALCS that year.

but hey, the nationals are 12-10. yay.

postcard from the edge

oh, life. you have this nasty habit of intruding on all the fun i could be having. sigh.

anyway, sorry for the radio silence. it's the tail end of my last semester in law school, and there are these annoying tests they make me take. it's like we're all still pretending that i care. cute, eh? i finished one today, but i have two more before i can officially close the book on this joint and move forward to the next adventure. and don't worry. once i come though all of this, there'll be some really fun stories to tell. be patient with me - just a few more days...

the end is the beginning is the end

well, that's it. seven semesters. thirty-eight courses. august 2007 through today. i have completed law school. my last exam ended two hours ago. it's too soon for any real perspective, so i'll leave you all simply with what first came to mind:

dear law school,

thank you. for everything. you broke me down, you built me up again. you changed my mind, my outlook, my way of thinking. you demanded more of me than i ever could've imagined. i like to think i met the challenge head-on. but most of all, you gave me back the parts of myself i thought i'd lost forever. for that, i will be eternally grateful, whatever lies ahead.

with love and gratitude, magnolia

maybe other people are just so happy to get it over with and earn that they don't feel this way. to me, this was the most vital part of the whole process: the education. and good god, did i ever get one. we'll see what happens going forward, but i know now that i can handle whatever it happens to be.

like a laser

spring studying is just the worst. but this spring, more than any other since i graduated from high school (way longer ago than i care to contemplate), i cannot lock it down and get the tunnel vision i need to plow through. i mean, damn - the whole sorry operation is over in TEN DAYS. i'm one week from my first exam. and yet, i sit here blogging, which, while fun, is not studying. sigh. i know that this stuff matters, but it is SO FREAKING HARD to stay in the moment.

this is a theme in my life. i'm always either projecting forward or gazing back longingly. this time, it's really bad - in such a short amount of time, i get to go home. i basically live for that moment. but i have three more hurdles to clear before i can kiss this all goodbye, and i know this. so it's time to redouble my effort something fierce, and it's time to get in my head how important the next ten days are. these three exams are the keys to my escape. buckle down. one foot in front of the other. let's go get it. my way out relies on this...

high roller [TRUE STORY]

i was never rich. i was never poor, either. well, at least not that i ever knew. when i was a kid, i never wanted for anything. we had a decent, not-too-special place to live, cars for both parents (and later for me), dinners in restaurants, and many, many, MANY expensive extracurricular activities. i didn't know how much my dad gave up in his life to make damn sure i never had to go without something important to me. (yet another reason why i admire the hell out of my dad.)

so i came to my professional life with a sense of gratitude to the level of pay i received for my services. i always appreciated my jobs, even when they sucked. i came to law school to get a grounding in my profession of choice, not necessarily to be rich. that'd be nice, don't get me wrong; i love me some nice living, fancy hotels, etc., etc., etc. but i've spent the last three academic years studying law not solely for the money. i come to it because i love the law.

but! i am looking at, someday, a significant upgrade in my lifestyle once i get situated in my gig. i went to a dinner last night as part of the law center's fundraising campaign. and i'm not going to lie - the legal profession is some rarefied air for a teacher's kid. i don't know how many of my classmates are used to this life, but there's still kind of a shine to my future to me. maybe that's naive. maybe i have a slightly more retro look at work and wealth. i don't know. but what i do know is that, especially with my dream grad program ahead of me, things are gonna change.

change is good. positive change is better. it will be SO. FREAKING. NICE. to be comfortable economically. but with this upgrade will come some adjustments in my life. it'll be interesting to see where that takes me. the future. hmm. time for me to keep my head, stay true to my roots, and remember where i've been. that'll keep me nice and grounded, wherever i go.

popular mechanics

love is perhaps one of the most misunderstood concepts in the entire human condition. god knows we here in the ol' U-S-of-A don't have our heads on straight about it. we have chosen to build so much of our social fabric on these weird pillars: love, marriage, family, etc., etc., etc. and yet, a lot of these properties, which we've bound together, have next to nothing to do with each other.

i personally don't believe that we were put on this earth solely to couple off and perpetuate the race. being a heathen who's just really not that fond of kids, this is an understandable impulse. but more importantly, the older i get, the more i realize that the "bedrocks" of love and marriage are skewed beyond belief and, honestly, they're totally unrealistic. this is just not a good way to run a railroad, folks.

there's no denying the biological imperative exists. i may not have it, but it's out there - i've read a lot of people's writing about pining for the kid, the husband/wife/partner, and all that. but there are a couple of wrinkles to all this that we as americans are just not willing to face. the biggest one, BY FAR, is that love is not enough to make a coupling successful. there's a big difference between loving someone and being able to run a life with that person. there are people in my life that i love dearly, care about with all my heart and soul, and enjoy to no end. those people are also ROYALLY incompatible as life partners: we are at such crossed purposes about where, when and how to go about things. this is reality; sometimes love just ain't enough.

there are a number of approaches to this problem that american society proposes. largely, though, it perpetuates the myth that if you love each other hard enough, you can soldier through anything. bunk. this sort of rose-colored foolishness keeps the wedding and rom-com industry active, but it's no way to live. i propose instead that, when you're looking at your partner and thinking about THE FUTURE, you look long and hard at the mechanics. it's cold, hyper-rational, and on a number of levels, it brings the coupling/marriage process back to what it was in the beginning - a property arrangement with political and socioeconomic implications. marriage was not love-based until recently, kids.

romance is far from dead. it's just far from relevant when planning how to live the rest of your life. you can learn to be gooey-sweet romantic with someone you can run a life with. you can't reverse the process without trying to fundamentally change the person you supposedly love. that's not fair to either of you. bring your mind as well as your heart to the table, and you'll save yourself a lot of grief in the end.

seven days

i've finished seven days of "yoga month 2010: the en-sleek-ening." i'm really not sure what i think at this point. the classes themselves are great. the results? eh, mixed at best. i'm feeling a little stronger, and the poses are coming more easily, but i'm not sure it's translating to quantifiable weight loss (or qualitative toning/shaping/etc.). that's frustrating as hell, given all the work i've put in. but there are 23 more days to go, including today; there's time yet to improve.

physical improvement programs have always caused me angst and grief. first of all, it's annoying to be a girl-type person and lose weight. boys lose weight at a rate that's startling to me. my favorite sports blogger lost 50 pounds in 3 1/2 MONTHS. that is SO not fair. it took me damn near a year to lose the same amount of weight, doing largely the same sort of thing. grrr.

but biological gender difference aside, sigh, i think there's an inherent expectation among the high-achieving in the world that everything should come easily. i am SO guilty of this. i expect to be able to master anything i try quickly, largely because that's always been the way things have worked for me intellectually. (god, that sounds arrogant. but it's the truth.) but as much as i've achieved with my mind, i have struggled with sports, exercise regimens, etc. that kills me.

so this challenge is not only physical, it's attitude-related as well. i need to push to show myself that results can happen if i try hard enough. hell, i got into my dream grad program. i can sure as hell stick to an exercise regime. and i might even get something out of it as well. i hope, anyway.

shameless self-promotion time! [TRUE STORY]

your humble blog-prietor has been published. i am pleased beyond belief that people thought enough of my writing to put it in a compilation with some damn fine authors. and since i am nothing if not an accolade collector, i'm sharing this with you. go see me, and a TON of great writers, in the inaugural issue of drop of ink. you'll be glad you did!