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.