This man made we wait in agony over every move and every moment we would spend together. He said we could meet at 10 for one hour. Well that is what we did. He said to come over and watch TV. That is all we did. No food, no alcohol, no sex. Just TV because that is what he said. So when he said he would call me back, I knew he would. But he chose his words carefully, as carefully as he chose every other minute detail in his life including what pair of underwear he would don the next morning, and like that he chose not to say when he'd call. When he did this my heart and mind would devolve into convulsions where I could do nothing but think about him and anxiously wait in gut wrenching palpitations where my heart only beat every second time it should for him to lead me to his greatness. I couldn’t call him. Well because that was not in the instructions and because I was guaranteed no phone call back until later - the time he determined he was ready to again speak to me. So one very paranoid afternoon later, Shannon texted me the greatest words in the English language, “cockpails?” The typo a result of her early start on the game. A word that will forever mean a multitude of drinks always to begin with a very dirty martini. So cockpails it was at a four o’clock on a Friday. No, no, no lawyers don’t leave at four. Not anymore and not unless you live in New Orleans. But this was June and we had a hurricane coming. How grand it is to live in Florida sometimes? At this juncture of bad weather and cocktailing we knew that the storm wasn’t really coming, we also lived in a world pre-Katrina where all risks were scoffed at. With that I danced down the hall, towards the elevator, into my car and straight to the bar. We watched the weather, we sat outside with the unusual and often cool gusts, and we drowned in our own liquids. In a buzzed stupor I declared that I was never speaking to Mr. My Time Only if he did not call me back by nine o’clock that night. Shannon dutifully held my phone hostage in her Prada to prevent me from checking it obsessively every ten and half seconds. At a quarter to nine she granted me my one wish to have the Motorola back to check any messages from him or otherwise. When I got not a one,I slammed the phone down and again dramatically pronounced that unless my phone is broken he and I were done. Because this is what friends do who buy you cockpails and hold your phone hostage, Shannon dialed my number to show me that my phone was not broken - that he was just an asshole. She dialed and it rang and rang and rang. On her end. My little flip phone never once made a sound. When voicemail should’ve picked up, an operator came on rendering her unable to leave a message. I didn’t even get a missed call. Turned out MY PHONE WAS BROKEN. And that HE WAS NOT AN ASSHOLE. Okay wait a minute. He was still an asshole but my drunken declarations were now allowed to be thrown by the wayside. I actually could make good on those excuses. I could continue in this “relationship” and no one could stop me. Yeah no one could. They should have, but I wouldn’t let them. Not at that point anyway. Because he did call and according to him it was many times. But we have no proof of that. I'm a lawyer and I like proof. But apparently only when I have not just consumed cocktails with 8o proof vodka. So we did make plans. And we all know what that means. His plans on his time. One movie, one day, this weekend. Three hours and I am out. The hurricane never came but it did leave an excellent excuse for Logan to continue to walk all over me and the true reason why my phone did not work that night. I let him because I was having fun and I was too busy tyring to maintain the rest of my life to even see what I can see so clearly now. The thick of the fog of that relationship storm made it so no calls could get through to me about where we were headed. Like the hurricane that never hit the Bay, we were in a relationship that was going nowhere either. It just took me a while to realize it.
Labels: Everyday Life
After tonight I want to run out and re-watch A Chorus Line. I had a ton of fun at the pops with Marvin Hamlish the composer of that music and other hits. Including the film version of The Way They Were, who does not just love that movie? And I really hate crying over movies when you are supposed to cry, because I cry enough when you are not supposed to and I cry enough in life. But that movie just makes sense because you knew she had to chase him over to LA and do her own thing but also that they were never going to make. The reality of that makes me cry because it is so simple and yet so true. When you think about it though it is the music that sets the tone for the movie and the emotion comes from the whole package, how well it all played together. What was so moving about tonight was how amazingly perfectly in line the symphony moved together. I cannot get over how they actually made the music. Tiny little violins making that much noise. Working as a machine but also as perfect individual units. Each with a task, often the same task, but also each a necessary element of the whole. Some with solos and others who were clear leaders but who actually spent most of the time working together as a team, blending in with the others. All as one. Really powerful and beautiful. I was so enticed and enamored by them. It was hooot seeing people in charge of these instruments, making melodies, and working to create a larger symphony. I get at thing, an itchy tingly thing, when people can move so well together and enjoy passions in the same form. It is quite emotional. It could've brought me to tears.
It was hot later on in the weekend as we sat outside enjoying the sun and the music. I swore this to Magoo in drunken whispers, that acoustic guitar players are hot. He can bang on those drums, so why not the guitar? Hot in the same way the symphony was - they master making sweet tunes, as he calls it, coming out of those powerful instruments. Memorable moving music. But really they do. A human able to exert that special talent and make brilliant notes is hot. Coming home after enjoying the tunes of the bar band, a bucket of beers and an afternoon by the water, to find your man listening to music full blast and cooking. Okay that is HOT. It was just so perfect. The smell of fresh sauce and the sounds of tunes from the TV - is the penultimate combination. Talk about working together. It is your way to connect and move together. Making music of your own and tantalizing pasta too. It is not just about the music, but about what those songs remind me of, how I can know every word even if I'm getting them wrong and feel absolutely great. Because that is what I do. Dancing in the kitchen in bare feet - a slight sunburn and the remainders of a beer buzz. Totally what summer is going to be about not just this one but the ones of the past and the ones you can only dream about. Summers are always so dream like, maybe it is the extreme heat and long drawn out days. It creates a moment in time to remember back to that song, that sound, the scent and all the memories. Suntan lotion, bug spray, sweat, salt and tired, that too much time in the sun and the pool kind of tired. The way A Chorus Line conjures recollections of younger days prancing around in socks and reminders of what is fun about music of all kinds - the singing along factor. In line together with older memories, making news ones connected to your friends, mixing voices together in ideas and poor poor harmonies. That is what I did at the symphony, in quiet tones under my breath, and at the bar louder and in my key, my drunken key. That's how the power of music gives into the passion and emotion, to sing and dance along to provide an afternoon and evening of entertainment, to make and bake memories and consummate relationships. Driving to work today even Ray created a not too distant memory, just the notes gave the ability to time travel and feel the warmth and goodness of that moment in December. The music makes the memory and creates a time that you cannot remember them as separate. Those songs will always go together with that image. The way the sounds coming from the TV had me dancing into the kitchen. The Moody Blues remind me of my parents, my mom humming along in her own kitchen, those kind of childhood themed memories. That song created a moment that was comforting, that made me aware of a home and what a house is all about, a connection to the past and present and who does not think that is hot?
This weekend will promise to be hot too - temps reading in the high 90's. It is the start of summer and here that means six months of blinding heat. We are going to the beach and celebrating Memorial Day the way Americans do- making it hot, steamy and with good tunes - or really bad ones if you are me. In a bad music square off I will be the winner. But that is what the summer is all about. See the rest of the Sunday pictures on flickr.
The problem is not the black box I feel that enraptures my skull causing a dull ache and a hate for all things I have to do and people around me. To me, the problem is that this is apparently an unacceptable state to live in. People don't accept it and I don't get shit done. I sit in my office and stare at the screen pretending to review documents for a latent defect that resulted in water intrusion. There is a high possibility that this sensation that has crept over my skull could be caused by those exact words. Or the people who wrote those words. And the only words I can think are who the fuck cares? When it comes down to it every bit of housing and construction is fucked up. In Florida it is humid and it rains. Can't we accept that as a premise instead of litigation as the premise and go from there as a working assumption. Because you assume then that I am out of work as a result. But that would likely be a good scenario to this. If I could just live on what I had and needed. Enough to cover the mortgage, bills and loans with money for groceries. Real groceries not the eating out kind I splurge on now. Like fresh fruit and lentils. I could be good with lentils and likely a tad skinnier too. If I just decided that was how I was going to live. Resolved to do so. I think I wouldn't want more because the more is when I get into trouble. If I keep it simple and never advance and never move on from those wants then I won't be tied to the job and the income, I won't need the more. I won't continuously have more either so I won't continue to want more. There is no moving up - it is level and peaceful and I have to think blissful. Can I do it? If it means I can walk away maybe I can. We as a people can do anything, I just know it. That is how we as a people got into a mess of insurance litigation over stucco. Maybe I can hiatus. The word sounds foreign but not luxurious because it is a street name that runs through the country. But still foreign. Because, can people do things like that? Just take breaks? I can work. I cannot work here doing this. But I can work. Like at the Gap just to earn that money I need. The minimums. Would that resolve this tension and desire to simultaneously scream my head off until my throat is dry and lie on the floor in a t-shirt drinking wine from a plastic cup? Something destructive passed me by today including from the list a fried chicken sandwich at Wendys and a pack of smokes from Walgreens. Instead when I got home I opted for a soup spoon full of chocolate frosting opened from the pantry. A healthy alternative to my choices but not a true solution to the overlying problem. The problem that lays over my head like a thick black box of mush not too dissimilar from the Betty Crocker container now missing a chunk from the middle.
Meeting new people and spending time making new friends introduces you to their stories and ideas. You learn their mannerisms, ways they tell a story, eating preferences, and quirks about cleanliness and godliness. They have their experiences and passions and inside tips on housekeeping help. Which was crazy perfect timing on that front because just that morning Magoo told me that I needed to try to find one for us and there at lunch was one offered up. Also offered was crack. Well I didn't know it was crack at the time but it turns out it is a white substance that I would become addicted to. What is all sorts of wonderful is that it is here in Tampa and it is super accessible to me, for a few small bucks. Here it's called cali yogurt but elsewhere it is Pinkberry. Not exactly illicit but ooohhhh boy am I addicted. My crackberry. I have been three times in three days - since learning about its goodness from the other girls. Oh god it is a great combination of fresh, smooth, tart and just plain yum. I dragged Magoo there after tennis and sushi and asked him what makes it so good and he responded brilliantly that it was the yumminess. Deep in the crevice of the white paper bowels buried beneath the almond slivers, my topping of choice, was that exact ingredient. He was so very right and unfortunately as addicted as I. New friends have great ideas to share - even if they are crack filled.
In our move I found stacks of old letters and cards. I was a keeper and have a ton of notes, birthday cards and funny memorabilia from the past decade or so. Included in the pile was an un-sent letter in a pink envelope with a teddy bear sticker addressed to Alli my old near and dear friend. I wrote it in college as it was going from my PO Box to hers, a testament of our age and that time in our lives, when we sat in our respective dorm rooms and chatted about everything for hours. The content of the letter is also a testament to a younger me. Something I appear to recognize in the letter and something I feel I actually achieved. In a way the fact that it was unsent was to be destined, as if it were just another journal entry or a letter to myself. Because I prophesize and I would like to think that prophecy came true.
April 24, 1999
Hey Baby. I know I just talked to you this morning, but I really need to get this out. This whole situation with this guy is bothering me to no end. I've already bitched to everyone about it and I know I am annoying but I just can't shake it. This is/was precisely the reason I don't hook up randomly or drunk. I want the guy to call, I want respect and I don't want to be made to feel dirty.
I'm sitting here on a Saturday night and all I can do is think about him and
this fucked up situation and that just pisses me off. I had a great life before this happened and I was a strong minded person - why am I so weak now that I can't even plan a lesson plan? It makes me mad that I can't get over this or do anything. I've called him once (which in my mind is already too much.) I never open myself up because I thought I'd get hurt. When I do, guess what? I got hurt. Whats this going to do for my self esteem? I always thought that I was stronger than this, that I could handle something like this. Which makes me even more upset - that I am not handling the situation as expected.
My final closing thoughts are why the hell can't he just pick up the phone and call me? There is not time not to mention no reason to play games. I feel like he is getting bad advice from one of his immature and retarded fraternity brothers. I can't deal with the bullshit!!!
Please remind me of this letter one day - when we are old. So hopefully I can appreciate what a great life I have and to laugh at my youth. I'm hoping that one day this will seem funny!!!
Thanks for listening and bearing with me.
Love Always - A
Labels: P.S./Photography Sunday
Not that long ago I would just write and post here whenever I damn pleased. Those were the days, not all that far off ago, when no one was reading. Then I got readers and commenters, who I love! love! love! and would never trade in. But I sort of stopped doing that and I sort of got onto a one post per day type track and they all get wrapped up in a neat little package and have themes and stuff. Which again, I love, but I want to remind myself that this was started for me. To keep my thoughts, ideas, memories and whatever else I want. And that maybe boring or I guess it could be totally interesting in that voyeuristic type way - I know that is a huge part of what makes this whole phenomenon successful. But that is what I have to remind myself of which again is what I am doing out loud here.
This weekend I have so little to do that I actually have a lot because I want to fill in all the spaces with things. Mostly errands but also house type stuff that just needs to get done or I will blow my ear off with a 12 gauge if it does not. I just can't stand having things sitting around. Which is totally not true - I can stand it until the point when I JUST CANNOT HANDLE IT ANYMORE. Then it becomes something I have to do. Tonight I have a date with my mother to the symphony which I am actually looking forward to. Tomorrow morning I am taking a photography class, a part of a birthday present from Magoo, which begins super early at like 9 or something. So it is totally cool to have an evening at the pops with the mom. Plus I am trying hard to detoxify even if it is just for a few days because last week I drank straight through from Tuesday to Sunday and I wanted to burst. So if I make through to Saturday with no liquids I will consider it a success. After the class, which I am SO excited about, I wanted to drop off our dry cleaning, pick up one last frame at Pottery Barn, drop off two pairs of shoes at the cobblers (I giggle at that term it is just so adorable), and to return items to Target to exchange them for a full length mirror. I am tired of standing on a chair to assess my outfit, the condo had these really big mirrors so I have not owned a free standing one in years, but I need one again. Need. I will likely also need to get some of that cali yogurt again, or three times, but more about my new crack at a later time. If time I also want to get some shopping in - you know just the straight up mall kind of shopping. Again about those needs. I say if I have time because I have a burning sensation to sit on my couch, with a cold drink, and watch the Preakness. Don't ask, I am on this horse racing kick and just want to watch the damned race. That is before Magoo and I have to get showered and dressed for a birthday dinner. Sunday we will likely pick up around the house, clean, and hang pictures. I also want to push him for some outdoor time - either tennis or a fine meal or even both if we are so inclined. Here that babe? And if not I am totally okay just making it to Publix because it has been about a half a century since our butts have seen the inside of a grocery. A healthily stocked fridge makes a happy girl. Oh maybe I can finally get around to that lasagna. The possibilities of a quite empty weekend are really quite filling.
So the comments are off because this one is just for my thoughts and ideas. Plus what is there to comment on? That I don't need to go to the dry cleaners? Or that you love the symphony also? Don't think that is necessary. Instead go about enjoying your weekends.
Labels: Everyday Life
You know you live in Florida when driving on 75 you are stuck behind a truck filled with oranges and over to your left, in that lane, is a person doing 40 with their left blinker on. That is so Florida.
You also know you live in Florida when you get to be at the beach by 9 am on a Sunday. Magoo and I always said we were going to go but would then find something else to do. The trick really is just to get up and go - not stopping to do anything else. This is also important because by the time we left at noon the place was packed. Lines to get in, lines to park and lines to find a comfy spot in the sand. Oh and of course you know you live in Florida when it is also 97 degrees at noon. Yet another reason to beach it early early on.
We had a great time napping, reading, drinking our smuggled Jack 'n Cokes and walking the shore. I say smuggled because I am not so sure drinking out in the open on the beach is all that legal. Of course we say we are going to do it again and I think we must. But we also agreed that we are going to buy some beach chairs and even a cooler. You know do it all right and stuff that way you really know you live in Florida.
Labels: Everyday Life
Alright folks I cried during a sitcom. How I Met Your Mother got to me because I hate break ups and I hate watching breakups. Sure that was an easy statement to make because who doesn't, but whatever. I've really always felt a strong sense of ties to this show but I think that it is just because it is well done and that is the point. Any good writing should draw you in like that. So I cried - even though I knew it was coming because she is the aunt and there is no way they could be together. But still it is just so sad to see people move on and apart especially when the love is there. I mean couldn't you just see the love they shared? I know it made me think about love, and passion, and friendship and god damned breakups.
Okay, so yes, I totally have a problem with separating reality from the TV. I know I do. This is why I don't watch horror movies because I know that a crazy man with an axe for a hand will come torture me in the middle of the night on a Tuesday. I know this because it was on TV. Despite my penchant for the dramatic and my fear of anything remotely scary, those Terminix commercials where the walls talk totally FREAK me out, I do manage to squeeze in Lost. Though I admit it is done a lot of times with my eyes squeezed shut. Well, because, I can't take the death, the pain, the torture, the fear, the anxiety, the not knowing or the blood and broken bones. So, yeah, most of that show is out as well. But gimme those five seconds in between and damn I love that show. And talk about loving shows and love and breaking up and all things great on TV, and we get the Bachelor. Here though I seem to understand that it is not real. Though I disagree with Magoo and think that they are in it for real and they seem to think in the moment it is real. But that in the reality of real there is no way you can form a relationship like that except that you are forced to and you have set your mind to doing so. Therefore, the girls really do think they are falling in love. Because they said they loved him 49 seconds after meeting him. But once they step off the magic island that is ABC they realize this shit 'aint going to fly and that is not love but a game that they played really damn well. Still though I gotta watch it and stayed up late for it last night even though I went home early from school because I was not feeling well. You are never not well enough though to watch, and participate if you are me, in some really really good TV. And really you get a whole post on TV because I spent some quality time watching it both on screen and on my computer, which was really cool because I could lie in bed, so it is ingrained in my brain right now.
Though speaking of TV and ABC - those in the Tampa area can catch the ladies on the 5 o'clock news tomorrow. No not those ladies - but the dogs, Ginger and Soph, should be featured at some point. Because in this situation I was actually living through the TV. Now that was reality.
Labels: Everyday Life
We got all dolled up and attended a Hillsborough County Bar Association dinner. In a room with 600 lawyers we dined on hotel food and listened to Fred Thompson. He is hysterical and quite fortunate having experiences from Watergate to Hollywood to Washington DC including a current stint on Law and Order, where you probably know him best. I just don't know about him as President and that has some things to do with my registered status. But we had a great time pretending to be important. The things is amongst all the speeches about how wonderful and prideful it is to be an attorney it made me not want to me one. I was coming off a pretty crappy day which did not help my sentiment regarding the law. And all the reasons cited for why the law is great and fulfilling fell on my deaf ears. What was described was not something that I feel that I actually do or that I am helping to contribute to.
My legal world is not filled with altruism and doing good and I don't often feel a sense of pride. Not in the way that was described anyway. I feel it is just a job. A new office sure, but still just a job. With that made me really wonder, and not for the first time, if this is the right fit for the long haul. Whether I should continue down this path. Because really in only a few short years I will have hit the seven year mark. Which is not reserved for just itches but also partner status. That is tempting because there is a pride there, but that too may also be short lived. However, the money and lifestyle become increasingly difficult to walk away from. Even now I would say it would be a challenge. But of course it is not impossible and my sanity and happiness certainly are not worth any amount of high income. It is just something that I have to keep in mind.
Really I also know that I have to have perspective. It has only been three years and in that time I should not have been expected to find my place. It takes time, work and a dose of good fortune to get to those kind of right fit special places. That is true of not just being a lawyer but any career choice I chose to pursue. It is not going to happen overnight and it is not going to be easy as pie. Really that is true about anything in life including friendships and relationships - they take time to build, some effort and patience and finding the right fit for you. We all look for love and spend so much time dating and investing in that relationship. This really is not that different. You need to take the time and effort to find a career that fits for you in the same way a mate would. It does not happen over night and it is not automatic that the first one is going to be right. Same deal for a job, right? So really at this point I need to just be aware of that phenomenon and keep it in perspective. Recognizing that my time will come but also knowing that I need to work at it and work towards what I want. I cannot grow easily frustrated, rather I need to keep resetting goals and deciding what I want and need to be doing.
Fred Thompson was a lawyer trained at Vanderbilt who happened to fall into a political campaign which led him to Watergate. They wrote a movie about the event and he got to play himself, which led to a film and TV career. Along the way he stayed in the law game and ran into politics as well. For him it was about timing, hard work and that dose of good fortune. I am fairly certain when he set out 35 years ago he had none of this in mind and could not have generated it if asked. That is really the beauty of it.
It is that kind of perspective I need to hold onto. That and for him it has been over 30 years of building a life and career. My three by comparison pale. Not that I want his life, but just that there are other paths out
there and that life can often lead you down them without a lot of
forethought or planning. I am lucky to have been given the chance to make these decisions and really to whine and complain about the whole thing. I also have to understand where I have come from, looking back to where I started three years ago and where I am now - knowing where I can go from here. I feel steps ahead of where I started and I can totally see new and different potential in the role I have not. Add into that what I really want to do, at least what I think that is, and I believe I should be just fine. It is not all peachy keen and wonderful, but I hope that some day it can be close to that. That and the picture below well that was my dessert, so how bad could it all really be? At least I had some chocolaty goodness to keep me warm and comforted. For the time being that is going to be enough.
I think it was Wednesdays in elementary school. The day when things were allowed to be backwards, your clothes, your words, and the early exit. The Dade County School Board gave us half days on Wednesday. Those were the days before it was Miami-Dade and before there was such a hullabaloo about leaving children behind, I suppose. So we made them Wacky Wednesday's and things were designated to be opposites. So today can be opposite day because couldn't the opposite of Wednesday be Thursday? If days had opposites?
Today feels all backwards and I keep having that thought. We went to a restaurant closing celebration last night. Which is fine because you should celebrate the good and appreciate what was there. But really don't you usually only have parties when restaurants open? It seemed anti-climatic. Come, enjoy our food and wine. It's great I swear. But you can never have any again. Ever. 'Cuz we are closing. Ha!
There is this hurricane named Arlene, I think that is her name. No shortage of news coverage on this morning's Today show, but I still cannot remember her name. But really she is going to make some rain and wind. Yet there are these wild fires which have made it super smokey and grey here. How can there be a storm and wild fires? Why isn't the rain putting them out? It's like mother nature is taking part in opposite day too. Where water no longer extinguishes fires and lets us suffer through both at the same time with no relief of either.
I have been having these big nights. Like where I go out and eat a bunch of food and drink tons and tons of wine and it is on school nights. Which is totally opposite because those are weekend things to do and we run up weekend type bills. But I have a feeling that this past weekend's nothingness and this coming weekends similar theme will mean that the weekend will feel more like a Monday. Which is all sorts of backwards and makes me really really tired. Because I was standing backwards in the mirror and looked at my ass and saw things that should not exist anywhere on anyone. So I have also been getting up early to use the treadmill. Which really is backwards for me because usually I sleep until the last minute and I don't generally cut into that for anything including exercise. But I cannot stand to see the back end again look like that and I don't think any amount of opposite is going to make cellulite a good thing. But it also means I am super exhausted from my backwards world and all things opposite. Maybe though I convince my body of the opposite and convince it to be awake, alive, and alert.
Labels: Everyday Life
I just got off the phone with a new old friend. I have accumulated lot of friends and most of them are considered to be old by now, you know like from childhood old or even college at this point. Because damn I met those guys 10 years ago. So this one, well he is a newer old friend. We worked together and now that I am gone, we have to test our friendship and put in the real effort to remain friends. So he called me to hold up his end of the bargain and told me he was exiting a day long workshop that our, scratch that, his firm puts on every year. We, again er, he is required to attend to meet and mingle and to do a few other law firm type things. But really it is eight hours in a Marriott that are better spent sticking snot in your eye, because it is just as pointless and equally as painful.
My first year at the conference I had just been dumped. As in four days before. I had the wounds of a newly single person fresh on me. A large conference room with nothing to do for eight hours was not the best environment for a person in my mental state. Really any mental state but others seemed to survive better than I. In those days I needed to stay busy and occupied or else I would think about him. Of course no windows and extreme boredom were no cure for that and I became crazy. So that evening when invited out I over served myself. Or maybe it was just that I had not been eating and had not been going out. He was boring and I put myself on the post break up diet routine. Involuntarily, but I did it. So to make myself feel more comfortable in a group of near strangers and to get over the mental torture I put myself through, I threw back a few Seven & Sevens. And then I got home and threw them all up. I literally made myself sick. I survived seven Mardi Gras without so much as a dry heave. But when life gives you a mind numbing seminar and a break up, you react the only way one should - you vomit three times and pass out. This was monumental at the time, because it had been ions since I upchucked. But I knew it was just my life making me sick and not the actual alcohol. And you know when your life makes you sick things are going pretty freaking well. That maybe you need to reevaluate and calm down. Put the bottle down and take a step back. Really think about your decisions.
So I did all that and decided to get back together with the fool a mere month later. I also decided that no one needed to know of this decision. Of course that is a whole other story. But as I told Shannon the other night, "You know it is a good relationship, when you have to keep it a secret." She totally agreed, "Yeah, this was the best secret relationship I have ever been in." And we both laughed over my mistakes and idiocy. But the thing is, and the conclusion we reached, was that no amount of discussion or prompting was going to change my mind about getting back with him. Clearly even my body rejecting yummy things like Seven & Seven was not going to teach me that lesson. Those are ideas you have to learn and mistakes you need to make on your own. Our friends cannot do it for us. That is the thing about bad relationships. We all get ourselves into them and count on our friends to help us out at the end of them, but the middle is where it gets sticky. We do those things to ourselves and will absolutely not hear it from anyone. Which is why I made that decision not to tell anyone. See if they don't know than they can't tell me all the bad things I am doing. Genius, pure genius. But really, I didn't want to hear it, not from any one and not from my friends. Which is why no matter how many friends you have, older, new or even older, there are certain things you need to do on your own. Even if they are riddled with mistakes. No matter how many friends you have or how well your friends know you, there are certain ideas and mistakes you need to endeavor on your own. It just does not matter what they have to say, you will go out on your limb, knowing they will be there to catch you and say not a word about the trip you just took.
I got this all from a ten minute conversation, but isn't that what friends are for? To remind you of all this and teach it to you one morsel at a time? They are there to keep you up to date, to laugh over your missteps and help you celebrate your now, new, old, blue or gold. They are there to help you remember your past, where you came from and where you are going, even if it is just to lunch on a Wednesday. Because really such plans are exactly how friends stay that way.
Labels: P.S./Photography Sunday
Saturday was magically wonderful as I flitted about on my own. I turned down an invite to the Dragon boat races. A good call because then I go to do my own personal great things and I heard they weren't that special. See how things were truly wonderful, I made the absolute right call. I knew I needed an oil change and I had earned myself a free car wash, but I also knew that would take a helluva long time, so I knew I would put that off. Instead I shopped and bought all sorts of wonderfully cute things for our new amazing home. The use of excessive adjectives and superlatives is absolutely necessary because I felt all wonderful the whole time. The sun was shining and I had money in the account and lots of time to spend it.
I super duper loved that in the midst of a decision over the purchase of either a red/orange or a blue/green combo new lacy underwear I got a ding from the Samsung that I have new mail. Oh boy do I love new mail and I really really love that my cell phone chimes from my bag telling me I have new mail. But really what I really truly from the bottom of my little heart love, is that it was from Pammy V. And she had these ridiculous stories about all the doctor men who love her and how she has all these dates and she cannot remember which one she told what to about her wonderful life. And how she only feels only okay about them but they just keep calling her like 10 minutes after the date is over. God I love that because she is the best catch ever and the men should be throwing themselves at her. Mmmah I can just kiss her. And then next my phone tells me that I have a new comment from Bre. And I swear I cannot remember the comment for the life of me, but it made me smile super big and laugh. Right there in Anthropologie. And comment to myself, because I don't care what I look like in public, that I am so insanely happy.
I took my happy self to get a smoothie because it was damned hot out and I was hungry and thirsty and getting tired. I figured liquid fruit infused with energy would tide me over but I couldn't be too full as I had a date with my man planned. Wines and cheeses and gooey appetizers at Mise En Place. I could not go ruining that goodness. And the first sip of the tangy sweet lemoney yumminess made me smile again and declare out loud how great this was. This time I know I said it out loud in the parking lot of the strip mall. Because who cares what the people outside Welcome to Moes! think? They drive minivans and eat cheesy Mexican, they should be happy like I am too.
Finally I tooted my ass and my beat up Honda over to the car wash. Which of course takes like an hour because all the people with Benzs and Hummers have to have their cars all shiny and pretty and demand perfection out of the beat up old rags and the underpaid dryers. Including the bitch with back fat who was standing over the man instructing him on cleaning her dirty dirty trunk. It totally had potted plants in it - of course it was dirty. But I didn't really care because they have a bench outside where I can get some sun and read my book. It was super glorious. It really was one of those perfect days where absolutely nothing happened and would totally make a really boring story except for the fact that it was truly truly wonderful and I was beyond blissfully happy.
Labels: Everyday Life
We need a tripod or to teach Ging to take pictures. We took a million one night, well not just one night it was my birthday and I wanted it to be special. These were mostly done holding our arms out and snapping the shots. We tried to just get a good one of us and finally pretty much gave up. I snapped pictures in the car and at the bar at the Capital Grille. We did the whole self timer thing and it sucked, we looked awful and uncomfortable. I mostly thought I looked fat. Magoo slanted his chin up. Whatever. Who can look through a dozen shots of them self and not find some that they are not happy with? One of us has something we don't find acceptable.
Isn't that just true about anything really? There is always something we can find wrong. Especially as Jews, I know that is the gospel we preach to our nearest and dearest. But really there is always something we can point to and say that it is off or that we are not happy. I am super guilty of it. You all commented that it was nice to see that I had been coming along at the new job. The thing is most days are not that way. Most of the time I am frustrated and unhappy. I can find a dozen and eleven things I dislike. Don't get me started, and as I said in an e-mail today, or I will cry. But really, isn't that how everything is in life? We can chose to fixate on the bad and look for it buried in every corner? Or we can gloss over it and enjoy the present for the good that it has to offer. Doing so keeps us in the good and alive with smiles and pleasure. It prevents us from inching towards the bad as well. We can forget that the bad is there and decide instead to revel in the good places, people, times and faces. I gave the same advice to a friend today, keep it even and steady and see where you wind up. If you move away from the negative you will find it may no longer be a problem, you will find the warmth of the happiness. You will find you can live in the fold of the good without so much as acknowledging the bads presence. Especially not when you don't have to and especially not when you shouldn't be giving into it.
The point is you make your own happiness. You live in it and you create it. There is always going to be something to pick out that is wrong or incorrect. Or whatever, who cares. Let it go. Really just get over it and let it go. You can chose to waste your energy and minutes of your day and life living in it or you can chose otherwise. A decision not to abuse the time but to enjoy it and revel in it. Why spend the time cranky and angry about what could be or should be. Or festering in the disgruntled. We can chose to give into the negative and find something wrong with every stare and whisper, every picture we take, and every aspect of our lives. Don't. Push it aside, wipe it off, take a deep breath and jump into the good. Take happiness by the hand and dive head first. It is your choice to do so. Your choices are your life and what you make of it. Make the choice to appreciate it all and make it the best it can be. Choose not to sit around and pick out the ills and the but it won't works. This is not just about attitude, it is about perspective and about acting on those ideas. It is not just about complaining about what is wrong and pointing it out. It is about doing something to address it and taking those steps. Extricate yourself from negative and make them a positive. See things from a new light and in a new way, instead of the same old whine and complain song and dance. Instead of just feeling the bad, take a turn for the good. See how that fits you for a while. I know I can change the zoom, the height, the focus, and my smile, but in the end I just need to be happy with who I am and to really know that these are good pictures. They are good because I decided that I like them and I choose to see the positive. It is a helluva lot easier that way, plus there was some good steak to enjoy.
One day not too long ago I had the most fantastic day. In the law firm world that is a lot to say for a Wednesday or any day really. Because on any given day law firm life can be as enjoyable as brushing your teeth with a chain saw. And in general, in my world that too is a lot to say for a Wednesday. But I was given an opportunity that made me realize a number of things and made me feel pretty freaking good. They say that revenge is the best medicine. Well they may not technically say that but I certainly do think it. And I was able to execute on that well. Let me tell you it was terrific and fabulous. It was not sneaky and it was not underhanded, it was business, as I was able to recruit away a secretary from my old firm and bring her here. She rocked and that was all I needed to convince others here that she would work.
Personally though it was with great satisfaction to know that she was swooped away from a partner and a firm that never appreciated her, or me for that matter. How awesome. How freaking wonderfully awesome. Now she is here and I get to enjoy her goodness, knowing her talents, but also knowing they lost her to me.
More so, it spoke volumes about where I am now. I had a day that showed me that I am a lawyer. SURPRISE! I know that the framed degree, the card, and the esquire seem to indicate that - but I was never allowed to be one. Not until yesterday. And NEVER at my old firm. I was given the power to make those decisions. To help out. My opinion was heard and listened to. It was valued and not criticized. I interviewed, discussed salary, and was made a part of a team. I was placed in a position, and told the same, that this was what was expected of me now and in the future, as a lawyer. This was a mother fucking light bulb to me. It was true and it was meant to be real. Not only that, but it made me realize that I had not been given these opportunities in the past. I was a worker and a disposable one at that. I was never more than a billable number. So no matter what shit will stink, at least I have that. At least I now know that I am lawyer and can be treated like one. Something that, in reality, I have been working toward for a long time. Which felt pretty freaking fantastic.
Exiting the elevator this morning I felt a small skip in my step. This was a big break. Not just in my legal world, but it was what finally made me feel like I fit in here. The new kid on the block syndrome was over and I was a part of this team. It has been a month and I was still in the I-Hate-This-So-Very-Much phase. But I cautioned myself as I walked down the hall, be careful. Knowing what law firms are like. Even this one. Yesterday's joy will most certainly be tomorrow's sorrow. That is how it works. It's the Facts of Life 101. You can't have too much and you certainly cannot have it for too long. Along with how to negotiate and take depositions, that is a lesson I have learned over the past three years. With that predication in mind fast forward eight hours. I had been asked to research and think. Referenced for my knowledge base on a specialized area of law that I knew from my previous job. I took time out from my assigned tasks to help out. I answered questions, did research, scoured the Internet and thought of questions. Only to be left out. I sat there staring at a closed door, realizing that the meeting started without me. I was not invited. Insert giant bubble burst. All the excitement from yesterday combined with all the work I had just done was quickly undone. My supposed self esteem was now in the garbage next to the three diet coke cans. My prediction was sad but true. I no longer felt lawyerly or even a part of a team.
But really this is what law firm life is like. It is days filled with bone crushing ideas like this. I knew it and I also knew to caution myself. A sad but true testament. It is teeny tiny baby steps in this world and a gigantic ton of perspective and strength. That is something you HAVE to learn, even if you don't pick up other litigation skills. So while I may now be a lawyer and I may get to act like a lawyer, there ain't nothing I can do about working in a law firm, it can suck any which way you slice it. That is unless you have some super special excellent staff people who kick butt and are as sweet as saccharine and who you secretly and covertly stole away from the dark side. Knowing that helps just a little bit. Revenge really does feel fantastically wonderful.