behind blue eyes

"but my dreams, they aren't as empty as my conscience seems to be... my love is vengeance; it's never free."

i am, outwardly, a friendly, warm and genial person. if you win my loyalty, i will fight and die for you. i will often subsume my needs if i think your needs are greater. i love those whom i love fiercely, protectively, passionately. i give, give, give, give, give. all. the. time. if you've earned my trust and look into my blue eyes, you'll see true-blue dedication and a willingness to do whatever it takes to make you happy.

but lately, that fierceness, that loyalty, comes with a certain edge. there are some places in my life where, suddenly, i don't feel like giving as much as i used to. that's the main reason i'm on my own right now. but it's also starting to seep into my other recreations. we've talked a bit more this summer than i know he would care to about things between us. i mean, it's not like they've been really substantive conversations; that's not how he rolls. but i've managed to squeeze some things out.

we make strange pillow talk when we're together. sometimes, when we're regaining our composure, we talk about nothing in particular. other times, we manage to get into these weird emotional places where it's probably not a good idea to go when you're lying naked in someone's arms. but that's where we went the other night, regardless of the intelligence of it. he was flush with the ego boost of producing multiple orgasms out of me, and he was crowing about what he knows about me physically, what he can do with me. so i pushed him, asking, "all right, big man; what do you know about me emotionally?" stupid question; i pushed too far. i finally heard precisely how i come off when i think i'm being passionate: "when you care about someone, you'll do almost anything to ingratiate yourself to that person."

ingratiate. what a word. conjures up servitude, subjugation, and generally lowering yourself to elevate someone else. how hard. how blunt. here i thought i was being a good friend. apparently, i just look pathetic. i felt something clench when that word came out of his mouth. i let it go at the time (in fact, i responded to this by going down on him), but the more i think about it, the angrier it makes me. to be told once that my loyalty is one of the things that's most valued about me, and then to be told that the very same loyalty makes me look like a charity case? i'm undone.

i think i need a new strategy. i think, as part of the reinvention process, i need to take a good, hard look at the way i love. i can't see myself giving up loyalty; it's something i value in others, so i see no need to totally dispatch that quality in myself. but what i am going to do, at least with him, is change the way that loyalty is expressed. there's going to be a sharpness to the way i love him. there's not going to be any more ingratiation. that girl is dead, as far as i'm concerned. what there will be is a new reality.

my sex is submission. but my love is vengeance. and it will never be free again.

a note from management

i love my readers. y'all are awesome. i started blogging because i like to write, but i don't have the time anymore to sit down and devote hours to hitting the keyboard and developing larger pieces. i also like the feedback i get with these exercises.

so it's with y'all in mind that i wanted to tell everyone about a change in... tone, i guess it'd be. with all the changes in my life of late, i'm finding my writing interests skewing towards territory that's decidedly more adult than it was when i started. i'm not going to become a sex blogger; there are people in this world [case in point] who do that way better than i ever could. but i am going to explore some things that are part of my new reality. just a heads-up to those of you who might be more sensitive to that sort of thing. i don't want to startle anyone.

your not-so-good girl may very well be going bad. heads up.

liminal

liminal. adjective. 1) pertaining to a threshold or entrance; 2) relating to a beginning or the first stage of a process.

being the chronic examiner of my past that i am, i've spent a huge amount of time thinking about the moments in my life that have tripped switches, triggered changes and started me on various paths. more often than not, these examinations have started in the midst of crises or problems, usually focused on, "my god, how did i get here?" kinds of inquiries. really fun, let me tell you.

but not this time. not even close. this time, my liminal moment is... well, intriguing. interesting. my curiosity is piqued beyond belief. such a small thing - words exchanged on a sticky summer night - but oh, so fraught with options. the best kind of options at that: the kind without expectations, rules, etc. all i need to do, all i feel compelled to do, is to ride the wave and watch this unfold.

so. many. possibilities. i can't wait to see what happens next. the threshold's crossed. what's on the other side?

the river

"is a dream a lie if it don't come true, or is it something worse?"

i'm winding down a fabulous weekend escaping stress by studying constitutional law and watching a bruce springsteen concert film. i have a long and complicated history with the music of bruce springsteen, and during this particular tour, they did an alternate arrangement of the river, one of my favorite songs in the entire catalogue. this line in particular has sneaked up to blindside me from time to time over the last couple of years, as i face a path littered with the shards of broken dreams and a planned future dismantled.

but when i think about it, i'm not sure it's either, really. i mean, i guess i was telling lies when i said i'd never leave, that i'd be there forever. but how was i to know that? somewhere in the tragedy, buried under the piles of regret and the things you swore would never be your reality, is the tiny silver glint of something, well, better. it's hope. it's possibility. it's rebirth. and it's the knowledge that there are just no guarantees. just do the best you can. walk forward. make amends.

you can't be responsible for another person's happiness. all you can do is tend to your own needs and be as kind as you can. it's not a lie if you dream something that can't come to pass. it's just another day.

give and take

[it's disclaimer time again. this one's gonna get dark, it's gonna get VERY adult. i have some depths-plumbing to do. so for the benefit of those who either don't like the dark stuff or just don't want that much information, i'm putting this entry behind a jump. proceed if you want to; skip if you don't.]

fire and rain

this is a bittersweet day for me. this would've been my mom's 58th birthday. i've written about her before, what happened, how she got sick and how she went. but i'm not really interested in focusing on the end of things. it sucks that she was so plagued with illnesses mental and physical over her life. but there was a lot of good in that woman, and i miss her on days like this.

she was a force of nature when she had her wits about you. so damn brilliant. no one could compete with her brain. (i like to think i take after her in that.) when i graduated from law school in may, my dad and i had about five minutes to ourselves in the midst of familial insanity, and he said to me, "your mom would've been so damn proud of you." that was probably the most meaningful thing i was told during all of that. she wanted to go to law school, but it never happened. she taught kindergarten and worked as a legal secretary instead. she'd have been great at it.

when she left us, i played the live version of "fire and rain" by james taylor from his album one man band on a non-stop loop for about a week. i thought i'd have more time. don't we all. but i've since made peace with what's happened. she's free. that's what matters. i have my memories of her, and i have the knowledge that i've done right by her legacy. i've grown into what she wanted for me. that's enough for me.

top of the world, mom.

torn up

whew, what a freaking dog of a day. i have been running, running, running. and in 3" heels, nonetheless. nine hours of bar review, a networking event and househunting, all on foot. i looked good doing it, if i do say so myself; i was dressed for this networking thing without time to change at all, so i had to be pulled together.

i love these shoes: green, round-toed T-strap heels. fun while still professional; just edgy enough to be interesting. but i sit here writing to you tonight in some pretty serious discomfort. i must've walked 2 miles today, and my feet are paying the price. but you know something? i looked the part. i was dressed to professionally kill and it helped my acumen in class. i was able to navigate the event alone with a smile, chatting up lawyers from the area with no real agenda other than to get noticed. i may have (if there's a just and loving deity in this world) even found myself a really ideal living situation.

and i smiled and i sold it, even though the pain was exquisite. it's a lesson, i guess - struggle, grace under fire, etc. also, maybe bring some better commuting shoes. but even though my feet are just torn up right now, my heart is surprisingly light. i lived. there's something to that.

[smile]

my life these days, by necessity, is quite small. i study, and i take an occasional break from the crushing weight of the biggest test i'll take in my life. but every so often there are small moments of simple transcendence that sweep in and remind me that everything's going to be okay. i got one of those today.

it's been a pretty rotten day, frankly. i woke up early feeling rotten after being up late feeling stressed. i dozed, i took a phone call, then i hit the books. i ran an errand that did not end well, and then, nerves shot beyond all recognition, i set out for dinner with my stepmom. i settled down over dinner, but i was still feeling really frayed and weary.

then i took a cab home. (my stepmom didn't want me to walk from the train alone. sweet, eh?) and the cab driver and i had a fabulous, warm and hilarious conversation about life in the metro DC area. he dropped me off, and i am now ready to spend another hour or so working. nothing like a little recharge like that to get me out of my head and remind me what matters.
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hey. how 'bout this - it's my 100th post. i'd like to take this time to thank y'all out there in blog-land. i've had a fabulous time getting to know my readers, discovering other people's work and generally taking advantage of this side of the internet. here's to many, many more. stick with me; it'll be fun. :)

the boss

didn't i just write about losing a piece of the yankee firmament? damn.

the boss is dead. after nearly 40 years, mr. steinbrenner is gone. if mr. sheppard's passing messed with my head, this knocks my world for a loop. i was born 8 years after CBS sold the team. i remember the insane years of hiring and firing, tampa-trust free agency foolishness, and the suspension for tailing dave winfield. the man was the original big spender.

every yankee fan had a complex relationship with the man. i hated how he treated yogi berra. i hated the mercurial nature of the 80s and early 90s. but i loved the drive. i loved the acumen. i love how he - and don't argue with me on this - resurrected the yankee mystique of the earlier dynasties and rebuilt the team into the billion-dollar juggernaut of class, polish and high standards that it is today. without mr. steinbrenner, god knows what would've happened to us.

so we say goodbye to our multi-faceted benefactor. god speed, mr. steinbrenner. may your sons take what you built and make it even better. may we never forget your dedication to the yankee brand. you join the pantheon of lost yankee legends today. we're better for having had you.

settle

i am learning, slowly but surely, what works for me and what doesn't. that's my favorite part of this whole process: finally figuring out what i alone need to get by. i'm realizing that it's going to be a rougher year than i may have anticipated. but it's nothing i can't handle. as my plans for the next 12-15 months start to crystallize, i'm learning the difference between managing expectations and settling for less.

for too long, i was all about settling for less. the middle way, the mediocre, the path of least resistance. the dull numbness of the center. i think it's pretty apparent that i have altered that frame of mind. i shook it up big-time by going to school again. now that i've earned that degree and stare down my next challenge, it's uncomfortable. i am damn tired of long days cramming for this stupid test. but the pain of this test, even though it's exquisite and annoying, is so much better than the dullness of showing up for another day at a job that just wasn't getting it done. the financial pinch of the next year will be tight, but it'll also be worth every last bit of the struggle when i am free.

i was told the other night, when i was in the middle of a lament about how much all of this has sucked, that "you are on the verge of getting absolutely everything you have ever wanted." it didn't really sink in at the time, but it's starting to creep in on me. yeah, there will be more pain. but after that, there will be more than i ever could have imagined. so i'll manage expectations. i'll live small.

but i will NEVER settle. never, ever again.

voice of god

i am a little dedicated to sports. it goes deep with me. i've been a yankees fan my whole entire life, starting in 1981 when things were bad. i remember the lean years before derek jeter showed up. so when i read today that bob sheppard, who announced games at yankee stadium since before my dad was born, passed on, it really knocked me for a loop.

not a shock, really; to live to age 99 is an accomplishment within and of itself. but mr. sheppard passing is one more iconic piece of my childhood slipping away. it's a small thing, one that i only got to enjoy in person a few times, hearing your team's announcer speak the names of your favorite players. but tied into every joyous moment i spent in the stadium is the rolling, gorgeous voice of mr. sheppard. reggie jackson called him the voice of god. if i were a believer, i'd be inclined to agree.

time only goes one way. but losing even little pieces of the fabric of your life hurts. rest in peace, mr. sheppard.

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.

magnolia doin' work

so as i have whined about for a month-plus now, i am about to take the bar exam. that explains why it is a gorgeous saturday morning, blue skies, warm temperatures, low humidity... and i am sitting at my kitchen table with books open taking a study break by, well, whining some more.

if this were any other summer, i would still be in bed. i woke myself from a very nice slumber (with a very nice companion) to get dressed, walk back here and start studying. but it's not like this is a permanent situation; this time four weeks for now, i will be in the warm embrace of good friends, blowing off steam and drinking like it's the last night before prohibition. but for now, we work.

i've done everything in my power to make this process as painless as possible. but it's crunch time; no one can save me from the arduous task of learning enough law to be minimally proficient at it all for two days at the end of the month. sigh. so here we go into the breach. i'll do what i can to maintain my sanity. that's all i can do.

bonus post: blog games!

woo-hoo; 2 posts in a day! this is total birthday decadence. so here's the deal. the fabulous jessica has tagged me in a blog meme. and because a) it's my birthday, b) i hate studying real property and c) why the hell not, i'm playing! so without further ado, the great eight. (hell - it's a meme named after my beloved ovie. how can you go wrong?)

1.  What is your favorite board/party/card game?

trivial pursuit! trivial pursuit! and no one ever wants to play with me. we always end up playing asshole at parties. that's fun, too, but i really want to own everyone at trivial pursuit...

2.  What is your earliest memory?

i have this weird vestigial memory of standing in my crib looking at a fan in a window. i thought it was something i made up, but once i described it to my dad, and i apparently described my room at one year old to a T. weird.

3.  If you could witness one event that occurred prior to your birth, what would it be?

the march on washington, 1963. i did a giant protest in DC in '04 (the march for women's lives), and that was amazing enough. imagine being a part of something where there were real, fundamental human rights issues at stake...

4.  What is your favorite curse word?

ahahahaha. it's so great. my favorite swear word is "motherfucker." oh, it's so much fun to say. it feels like a load off just saying it. i am fond of just about every swear word there is, though. i have a filthy, filthy mouth.

5.  What is your main fault?

without question, i overanalyze everything. but all of y'all already know that. you read it here. i am worse in my personal life. i would also offer that law school has made me really addicted to order, which doesn't help the overanalysis thing at all.

6.  What turns you on?

a good-looking, brilliant man who flatters me. i MUST have a smart man. i love to talk about high-level things, all the time, and i cannot abide a guy who can't keep up. a good conversation is deeply stimulating to me.

7.  What is your idea of misery?

heh. that one's easy. misery is knowing what you have to do, knowing how much it's going to hurt, and not having the nerve to pull the trigger. you may as well run your soul over a cheese grater.

8.  What do you wish you knew more about?

i wish i knew more about using technology. my interest is deep; my knowledge base is SHALLOW. i'd like to be able to do a lot more with computers, web stuff, etc. than i can. 

whew. fun! ok, so now i have to spread the love. here's my group of tagged bloggers:

1. live. love. learn. breathe.

2. the daily dose of reality

3. the foggy dew

4. momma's pixie dreams

5. are you there, youth? it's me, nikki.

6. handbags and handguns

7. harriet and friends

8. to be determined

enjoy, folks! :)

midpoint

today is july 2. this is the exact, unequivocal middle of the common (non-leap) year. 182 days behind us, 182 days in front of us. this is halftime, kids.

and it is also my birthday.

a lot of other people share this day with me: rene lacoste (the tennis/polo shirt guy), thurgood marshall and medgar evers (civil rights heroes), dave thomas of wendy's, john sununu, larry david, jose canseco, lindsay lohan and johnny weir, among others. it's quite a day. hell, when i was a kid, i used to think of the whole 4th of july thing as a nice big protracted celebration of me and my life. i was truly disappointed when i was told that the fireworks were not for me. (yeah, i'm an only child.) regardless, there's always a party, people are generally in a good mood, and hilarity almost always ensues.

i come to this birthday - 29, the start of my thirtieth year of life - at a weird, unsettled place. i'm in the middle of the biggest ordeal of my professional life in studying for the bar. i'm in the middle of the end of something i expected to have forever. i'm in the middle of, for the first time since i was a teenager, really having to look myself in the eye and say, "okay. now what?" i'm in the middle of, well, the middle. it's mushy, it's unclear, and there's no clear path to a solution anytime soon on a lot of this. all i can do is keep up the slog.

there will be birthdays when things aren't so crazy. it's up to me to rise above the middle-ness of it all and reclaim my day. i stand alone in this moment and say, "yes, it's going to be OK. it's all going to be OK. so let's have a drink and celebrate." that, my friends, is the best gift i give myself this year.

soul food

tonight was a big damn deal for me. i mean HUGE. i did something i never, ever do: i went out socially ALONE, to a bar, just to talk to people. i have been described as someone who likes to be around people, to the point where i was told (disdainfully) that, "you're... SOCIAL." but i usually need at least one other person with me as backup to truly shine. i mean, in my old life, when i was sent out into the world to network, i would totally shut down without someone from the office there with me as support.

well, given what i'm in the process of doing to my emotional and social life, that's just not gonna fly. i can't rely on others to charge my batteries; if i want to go and do, i can't sit around and wait for partners in crime. so tonight i put the books down, dolled myself up and swaggered on into a downtown watering hole 100% solo. and you know something? i did not die. no one hurt me, i was not laughed at. in fact, i started conversations with total strangers that led to actual connections. it was fun. and moreover, i was myself without any kind of spurring or crutches. i didn't need someone standing there with me to validate my presence. i did it. and it felt really, really good.

and by god, that counts for a lot. i can do this. i will do this. i got the deeply vital social interaction that i need, and i got it without help. damn. moving forward may not be so hard after all.

the end.

man, there's really nothing like being a grown-up for just total buzzkill sometimes. i mean, not having to deal with parents, being able to drink legally, all that stuff? totally fabulous. but then there's... well, there's the fact that you have to think about end-of-life issues. not just for yourself, either, but for everyone around you. death stops being this nebulous reality without a real meaning and starts becoming another thing to PLAN FOR. i swear, if anyone was ever going to take leave of any rational sense and allow me to mentor the young, that's how i would describe adulthood: a never-ending parade of events for which you must plan, up to and including the big sleep itself. so that's how, tonight, i found myself going over end-of-life plans with someone very close to me. wow, that's a conversation you don't anticipate when you're running around the playground with someone. but it is what it is.

part of me is honored; how could you not be, when someone trusts you to be the one to handle things for them when the end comes? but it's just so... i mean, we were just teenagers not that long ago. we were driving around the wilds of the gulf south in late-model import cars, talking trash and acting silly. on summer nights like this, we were most likely on our way home from some late-night road trip to the beach, not getting ready for work and class. but that's where we are. i'm thrilled beyond belief to still have these people i've loved so much for so long in my life... and i guess that's the opposite side of that coin. having people in your life who you plan to keep there forever means that you inevitably learn that every "forever" has an endpoint.

cherish it all. that's the takeaway, i guess. there's a period at the end of every sentence.

debacle

it's a natural byproduct of the aging process to find things easier to do as you practice them. as i practice memorizing the elements of crimes, torts, and various other minutiae, i naturally find this easier. this applies to not only intellectual pursuits, but practical life things as well. i mean, it now takes me about 10 minutes to do my tax return, but i've been filing taxes for over 10 years now. making a car rental reservation, getting utilities hooked up, registering for classes - you name it, i can do it. i've got this adulthood thing all nailed down.

so it's kinda shocking to me when i look around at grown people and they just. can't. do it. i've been up to my eyebrows in people who are chronologically adult, but who simply can't handle the basic tasks of adult life, WAY too much for my own personal sanity these days. it really makes me wonder how the black hell these folks got this far in life without knowing how to do things. i shouldn't get phone calls from people twice my age asking how to handle basic machinations that are just a part of adult life. somehow, some way, something should've stuck with them, and it didn't. that scares me.

so here's to all the people in my life who made sure that when i left the nest, i had the toolbox i needed to, if not do things i needed to do right away, at least know how to find out what to do. thanks to y'all, i've been spared the rather sad and pathetic fate of being grown and having everything be a nightmare. i can get through arduous and annoying tasks without my walls crashing down. not everyone can do this. i am reminded of that far too often for my taste. and i am grateful as hell that i will never be that person.

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.