I got this idea from KylaBea, and thought it was adorable and wonderful.
This weekend was enjoying my engagement. It was shopping for Christmas ornaments, lights, presents. It was decorating a tree together for the first time, putting up an owl instead of a star or an angel. It was basking in the glow of our beautiful, first tree. This weekend was bustling through the freezing cold wind to explore a beautiful apartment; being attacked by beautiful dogs. It was cooking our first meal together, cuddling by the glow of our tree, being happy no matter what.
This weekend was solidifying friendships and getting giddy about wedding gown shopping, and getting The Perfect Haircut. It was having too many shots that tasted too good, laughing at dirty Secret Santa gifts, talking way too quickly and laughing way too loudly. It was laughing at the old people in the bar, too-strong martinis, celebratory shots and whispered smiles and congratulations. It was feeling warm in 15-degree weather.
This weekend was domestication: cooking together, cleaning together, cuddling each other and our kittens. It was cleaning out closets to make room for each other. It was watching the sun glint through the blinds, lighting up the pale bedroom with its wintry light. It was smiles for no reason, plotting about life
This weekend was the beginning of forever.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Friday, December 19, 2008
GLEE
Because I can't make a public announcement until I've told certain people (well, I can, but I just don't feel it would be right), and this blog is anonymous, I need to shout it here:
I'M ENGAGED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am SO excited, and I love him SO much, and my ring is GORGEOUS!
I'M ENGAGED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am SO excited, and I love him SO much, and my ring is GORGEOUS!
Monday, December 15, 2008
Stuck in the Middle
I've been thinking about this for a while, not quite sure if I should do a post on it because, while I like to think that my thoughts about it are coherent and organized, I don't think they really are. But...I've decided to give it a shot, it's not like it hurts to try, right? And it would probably help to get this out on (virtual) paper.
I feel like an outsider a lot of the time...among my peer group, among my family, etc. I'm Dominican, but I'm pretty pale, thanks to my mother. I don't really look Hispanic, and I definitely don't look Dominican. In fact, the last time I went to the D.R. a guy was talking to me and his friend asked if I was Dominican, and the guy said, "Of course she's not...look at that nose...and that hair...and that skin...and that body....works of art like that don't come from the Dominican Republic." It was weird and creepy and cheesy, but that pretty much sums up my existence. That really doesn't bother me at all, it's interesting to hear what people think I am...but I'm categorically not white.
I grew up in a really diverse neighborhood, but went to school in a predominately Irish neighborhood: a small Catholic Pre-K through 8 school where I was one of 3 minorities - 1 black girl, myself, and my little brother. I was the only non-white kid in my class, which never really bothered me until we started getting older and boys started liking girls, and I was actually told no one would ever like me because I wasn't white. I wasn't blonde and blue-eyed, and my hair was too thick and curly. My skin was too brown, and I didn't really fit in with my peers. They accepted me, but at the same time they didn't accept me. There was a lot of, "Oh, you wouldn't understand, Laura, you're not like us." Like what? I'm growing up with the same education as you, I'm growing up in the same area as you, so...what am I not like? Oh...I'm not the same race as you. I'm too 'non-white', too 'ghetto'.
Nevertheless, I still grew up with 'white' mannerisms, or so my Hispanic peers and family would tell me. My aunts and uncles and grandmothers love me, as do older-generation members of friends' Hispanic families, because I'm quiet, well-spoken, well-behaved, well-read, educated, and 'pretty'. But to my actual peers - my cousins, people in my own age group - I'm not accepted, because I'm too 'white'. I'm too quiet, too well-spoken, too well-read, too educated. I'm not ghetto enough. Cousins who see me after a long time say, "Oh my gosh, how are you??" and when they hear about what I've accomplished, they get quiet and say, "Oh, wow, good for you," and walk away. My brother, who acts like a thug despite having grown up with the exact same neighborhood and education as I, gets "Wowwwww you look so greattt!! How ARE you?? Tell me all about everything! I can't believe you're all grown up!" and then gets an adoring audience for his little ghetto exploits.
In a way, I understand it. I'm more educated than they are, I didn't become a mother at 16 or 17, and I'm still not a mother at 25, whereas I don't have a single female cousin on my mother's side that, if a mother, is married. Not that I think there's a problem with being a single mother, or a young mother - but I know that they regard me as having a problem with that. I don't care - they're still my family, and I'm still one of them, and their kids are beautiful! Being a single mother changes nothing to me; but to them, I'm not one of them. I chose my path; I chose to be white. My Hispanic peers are the same way. I briefly considered joining the national Hispanic sorority in college, but was actually told, "wouldn't you feel more comfortable elsewhere? you don't seem to quite...fit in here." When I asked for more clarification, because I was definitely Hispanic, a friend of mine told me "I'll be totally honest...you're just too white for us. Change your image a little, make yourself more clearly Hispanic...then you'll fit in."
But what is 'more clearly Hispanic' ? My blood runs red and blue with a little white; I am Dominican through and through. My Spanish is more fluent and perfect than any of my cousins, any of my peers. Is it my fault that my parents chose to better themselves by becoming college educated, by moving me out of the city into a good, suburban neighborhood where I could get an excellent education? Is it my fault that I chose to pursue higher education because that's what I wanted from life? Is it my fault that my English is impeccable, that my grammar is correct, that I like to read? Does any of that somehow change my heritage? Am I somehow less Hispanic because I am not a stereotype?
My body is extremely curved; I have a very small waist, and very large hips. I tan beautifully even if I wear SPF 75. My hair is thick, extremely curly, and extremely dark. My eyes are perfect, large almonds. I speak Spanish with pride. I dance Salsa and Merengue as if it were my job. Reggaeton speaks to me in ways no other music does. I love to read. I am mindful of English grammar. I speak with no accent. I am educated. I am intelligent. I am well-behaved. I wear clothing that fits me, that does not come in neon colors, that is not black and puffy or large and white. I work hard for my money, and I spend it well.
It bothers me, in a lot of ways, to have people reject me as not 'one of them' because I chose to better myself, and because I could not help the color of my skin. But at the same time, I'm not going to apologize for it. I'm not going to apologize for the fact that I am Hispanic, and I'm certainly not going to apologize for the fact that I am not ghetto.
I am not ghetto. I am not white. And yet: I am too ghetto, too white, not ghetto enough, not white enough.
I feel like an outsider a lot of the time...among my peer group, among my family, etc. I'm Dominican, but I'm pretty pale, thanks to my mother. I don't really look Hispanic, and I definitely don't look Dominican. In fact, the last time I went to the D.R. a guy was talking to me and his friend asked if I was Dominican, and the guy said, "Of course she's not...look at that nose...and that hair...and that skin...and that body....works of art like that don't come from the Dominican Republic." It was weird and creepy and cheesy, but that pretty much sums up my existence. That really doesn't bother me at all, it's interesting to hear what people think I am...but I'm categorically not white.
I grew up in a really diverse neighborhood, but went to school in a predominately Irish neighborhood: a small Catholic Pre-K through 8 school where I was one of 3 minorities - 1 black girl, myself, and my little brother. I was the only non-white kid in my class, which never really bothered me until we started getting older and boys started liking girls, and I was actually told no one would ever like me because I wasn't white. I wasn't blonde and blue-eyed, and my hair was too thick and curly. My skin was too brown, and I didn't really fit in with my peers. They accepted me, but at the same time they didn't accept me. There was a lot of, "Oh, you wouldn't understand, Laura, you're not like us." Like what? I'm growing up with the same education as you, I'm growing up in the same area as you, so...what am I not like? Oh...I'm not the same race as you. I'm too 'non-white', too 'ghetto'.
Nevertheless, I still grew up with 'white' mannerisms, or so my Hispanic peers and family would tell me. My aunts and uncles and grandmothers love me, as do older-generation members of friends' Hispanic families, because I'm quiet, well-spoken, well-behaved, well-read, educated, and 'pretty'. But to my actual peers - my cousins, people in my own age group - I'm not accepted, because I'm too 'white'. I'm too quiet, too well-spoken, too well-read, too educated. I'm not ghetto enough. Cousins who see me after a long time say, "Oh my gosh, how are you??" and when they hear about what I've accomplished, they get quiet and say, "Oh, wow, good for you," and walk away. My brother, who acts like a thug despite having grown up with the exact same neighborhood and education as I, gets "Wowwwww you look so greattt!! How ARE you?? Tell me all about everything! I can't believe you're all grown up!" and then gets an adoring audience for his little ghetto exploits.
In a way, I understand it. I'm more educated than they are, I didn't become a mother at 16 or 17, and I'm still not a mother at 25, whereas I don't have a single female cousin on my mother's side that, if a mother, is married. Not that I think there's a problem with being a single mother, or a young mother - but I know that they regard me as having a problem with that. I don't care - they're still my family, and I'm still one of them, and their kids are beautiful! Being a single mother changes nothing to me; but to them, I'm not one of them. I chose my path; I chose to be white. My Hispanic peers are the same way. I briefly considered joining the national Hispanic sorority in college, but was actually told, "wouldn't you feel more comfortable elsewhere? you don't seem to quite...fit in here." When I asked for more clarification, because I was definitely Hispanic, a friend of mine told me "I'll be totally honest...you're just too white for us. Change your image a little, make yourself more clearly Hispanic...then you'll fit in."
But what is 'more clearly Hispanic' ? My blood runs red and blue with a little white; I am Dominican through and through. My Spanish is more fluent and perfect than any of my cousins, any of my peers. Is it my fault that my parents chose to better themselves by becoming college educated, by moving me out of the city into a good, suburban neighborhood where I could get an excellent education? Is it my fault that I chose to pursue higher education because that's what I wanted from life? Is it my fault that my English is impeccable, that my grammar is correct, that I like to read? Does any of that somehow change my heritage? Am I somehow less Hispanic because I am not a stereotype?
My body is extremely curved; I have a very small waist, and very large hips. I tan beautifully even if I wear SPF 75. My hair is thick, extremely curly, and extremely dark. My eyes are perfect, large almonds. I speak Spanish with pride. I dance Salsa and Merengue as if it were my job. Reggaeton speaks to me in ways no other music does. I love to read. I am mindful of English grammar. I speak with no accent. I am educated. I am intelligent. I am well-behaved. I wear clothing that fits me, that does not come in neon colors, that is not black and puffy or large and white. I work hard for my money, and I spend it well.
It bothers me, in a lot of ways, to have people reject me as not 'one of them' because I chose to better myself, and because I could not help the color of my skin. But at the same time, I'm not going to apologize for it. I'm not going to apologize for the fact that I am Hispanic, and I'm certainly not going to apologize for the fact that I am not ghetto.
I am not ghetto. I am not white. And yet: I am too ghetto, too white, not ghetto enough, not white enough.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
People throwing stones in glass houses
So, I'm revisiting the rant about my so-called 'best' friend from the other day, because today I discovered what I believe to be the reason for her ridiculous treatment of me the last few years, and her inability to be a friend to me in the way that I have been for her. She showed me a comment she'd made on a website earlier today, under a different name than her usual name, to show me the hilarious internet war that ensued.
As we both tend to do, I then clicked on the account to see her other activity; it's not stalker-like, she and I have always done that, because it's awesome to see the hilarious things one or the other has said, the ownage that has occured, the schooling of ignorant teenies that we have both engaged in, etc., and then quote said things back to each-other. But I don't think that she realized exactly all the stuff she's written; and in perusing, I did find such funny things, but I also found admissions in which she tells whoever she's responding to about her own feelings and behaviors with regards to certain things. What's important about this is that these are the things that she refuses to be there for me about; when I'm struggling with my particular issue, she shuts down and refuses to listen. She used to rant and rave at me, years ago, about what it was doing to her and how I was destroying her, and that I was selfish and horrible, and that she wanted to have nothing to do with me. She gave me SUCH a hard time, made me feel SO horrible.
And now...I've discovered that she's doing the same. exact. thing. It's actually kind of laughable. She's engaging in the same behaviors that she told me were childish and stupid. While it's in relation to a different kind of issue, it's exactly the same thing. What she SCREAMED at me for looking at, she says she'd look at if it was available because it would be so helpful for her.
And so, I conclude that she's ashamed. She's ashamed that she was so horrible to me instead of trying to help me, and now she's doing the exact same thing that she was horrible to me about.
In a way, I get a certain sense of validation in the fact that she is feeling the exact same way about something that I used to; it's satisfying to know that she must realize she was wrong - it wasn't a choice.
I don't know whether to confront her about it, or if it's even worth it. I certainly have much more supportive friends, and with those relationships there's an absolute balanced sense of give and take. I'm there for them, they're there for me, in the good times and the bad. With her, I've tried to be there for her at all times, and she only wants to be there for me in the in-between times. If I'm particularly successful or happy, she doesn't want to hear it; if I'm upset or struggling, she doesn't want to hear it.
We definitely have fun, and have a lot of things in common, and understand eachother in a way, at least on some level, that makes me still say that we share a brain. But I'm starting to think that she's just a 'fun' friend; not a real friend. It sucks, but...I guess that's just growing up.
As we both tend to do, I then clicked on the account to see her other activity; it's not stalker-like, she and I have always done that, because it's awesome to see the hilarious things one or the other has said, the ownage that has occured, the schooling of ignorant teenies that we have both engaged in, etc., and then quote said things back to each-other. But I don't think that she realized exactly all the stuff she's written; and in perusing, I did find such funny things, but I also found admissions in which she tells whoever she's responding to about her own feelings and behaviors with regards to certain things. What's important about this is that these are the things that she refuses to be there for me about; when I'm struggling with my particular issue, she shuts down and refuses to listen. She used to rant and rave at me, years ago, about what it was doing to her and how I was destroying her, and that I was selfish and horrible, and that she wanted to have nothing to do with me. She gave me SUCH a hard time, made me feel SO horrible.
And now...I've discovered that she's doing the same. exact. thing. It's actually kind of laughable. She's engaging in the same behaviors that she told me were childish and stupid. While it's in relation to a different kind of issue, it's exactly the same thing. What she SCREAMED at me for looking at, she says she'd look at if it was available because it would be so helpful for her.
And so, I conclude that she's ashamed. She's ashamed that she was so horrible to me instead of trying to help me, and now she's doing the exact same thing that she was horrible to me about.
In a way, I get a certain sense of validation in the fact that she is feeling the exact same way about something that I used to; it's satisfying to know that she must realize she was wrong - it wasn't a choice.
I don't know whether to confront her about it, or if it's even worth it. I certainly have much more supportive friends, and with those relationships there's an absolute balanced sense of give and take. I'm there for them, they're there for me, in the good times and the bad. With her, I've tried to be there for her at all times, and she only wants to be there for me in the in-between times. If I'm particularly successful or happy, she doesn't want to hear it; if I'm upset or struggling, she doesn't want to hear it.
We definitely have fun, and have a lot of things in common, and understand eachother in a way, at least on some level, that makes me still say that we share a brain. But I'm starting to think that she's just a 'fun' friend; not a real friend. It sucks, but...I guess that's just growing up.
Office ramblings
I have been so amazingly unproductive at work today. It's incredible. I slept until 10:30 or so; I watched a documentary on child beauty pageants; I scrolled through Yahoo! Answers for a half hour; and now I'm thinking about lunch.
It's strange not having anything to do. It's only because court's in recess for the month, so now all we have to work on is editing circulating opinions. It's quite relaxing, but at the same time I sort of wish I'd be assigned another bench memo, so that I could get it done NOW and not get slammed with too many later on when it's really busy.
In other news, Sheila texted me this morning telling me that the 'bug' got her and she can't make it in, so I texted back and told her to feel better, and she responded with "My whole body hurts" so I go, "Wow, make sure you rest up!" and then she goes, "It's a struggle to even go to the bathroom." Ok...well...that sucks, but...why are you telling me this? I don't need details. Stop texting me. You're sick, end of story. I definitely hope you feel better, but I'm not going to carry on a conversation with you over texts while I'm driving to work about every thing that's bothering you. Why do people over-share like this?
It's strange (and nice) being one of 2 people in the office today. It's quiet, and we can have silly girly conversations without poor Andrew being all "uhhh...?" Overall, I really love my job. I like my 2 co-clerks, and I like my justice. I'm learning, which is nice because I thought all education would cease when I graduated law school...they say that clerking is the final frontier in legal education, so I'm pretty sure I'm going to miss this a lot when my year is over. At least it'll be a nice transition from academia to the real world...though I'm pretty sure going to a firm next year is going to be a shock no matter what. Of course....I can take a cue from those lawyers a while back that said that they shop online at neimanmarcus.com to make themselves feel like they count, so maybe THAT will cushion the blow. Hee. I wonder what it'll be like to be transformed from a shopaholic in debt into a shopaholic that can actually afford the crap she buys?
It's strange not having anything to do. It's only because court's in recess for the month, so now all we have to work on is editing circulating opinions. It's quite relaxing, but at the same time I sort of wish I'd be assigned another bench memo, so that I could get it done NOW and not get slammed with too many later on when it's really busy.
In other news, Sheila texted me this morning telling me that the 'bug' got her and she can't make it in, so I texted back and told her to feel better, and she responded with "My whole body hurts" so I go, "Wow, make sure you rest up!" and then she goes, "It's a struggle to even go to the bathroom." Ok...well...that sucks, but...why are you telling me this? I don't need details. Stop texting me. You're sick, end of story. I definitely hope you feel better, but I'm not going to carry on a conversation with you over texts while I'm driving to work about every thing that's bothering you. Why do people over-share like this?
It's strange (and nice) being one of 2 people in the office today. It's quiet, and we can have silly girly conversations without poor Andrew being all "uhhh...?" Overall, I really love my job. I like my 2 co-clerks, and I like my justice. I'm learning, which is nice because I thought all education would cease when I graduated law school...they say that clerking is the final frontier in legal education, so I'm pretty sure I'm going to miss this a lot when my year is over. At least it'll be a nice transition from academia to the real world...though I'm pretty sure going to a firm next year is going to be a shock no matter what. Of course....I can take a cue from those lawyers a while back that said that they shop online at neimanmarcus.com to make themselves feel like they count, so maybe THAT will cushion the blow. Hee. I wonder what it'll be like to be transformed from a shopaholic in debt into a shopaholic that can actually afford the crap she buys?
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
UGH.
I just have to rant for a second, because honestly, I really, REALLY hate that the person who calls herself my best friend is so condescending all the freaking time. I hate that she's so selfish and never asks how I'M doing, and then has the audacity to complain about how rude it is that some idiot she's friends with does the same thing to her. Oh, really? How does that feel, sunshine? How does it feel to have someone completely disregard your existence because theirs is soooo much more important?
A friendship is supposed to be give and take, and she's all take take take. When I want to talk about anything serious, she says "I can't handle this right now, I'm in a bad place." YOU'VE BEEN IN A BAD PLACE FOR FIVE YEARS. I need a best friend who is an actual FRIEND. I've been there for you always, and you're NEVER there for me, because you're always in a goddamn bad place. Oh, but you're never in a bad place to listen to someone ELSE's problems. When I Twitter about how there might actually be something wrong with me, instead of asking me what's wrong, or being helpful like you are to every freaking stranger on the internet and every other person on the planet, you make snarky, condescending comments to me that discount how I feel. You are the most selfish, horrible, UGLY-ass bitch I have ever met, and I cannot believe I'm friends with you. When we fight? It's because I stand UP to you, you ass. I decide that I'm not going to be your carpet anymore, because clearly I am the ONLY person in the world you treat like this - your BEST FRIEND, and you treat me like dogshit, while you'll treat everyone else on the planet like royalty. And you take OFFENSE to that? You're such a bitch, and I cannot STAND you. You think I'm going to make you my Maid of Honor; well, you're in for a big, nasty surprise. You'll be lucky if I even let you come to my wedding, because I know you're just going to be a big fat bitch about that, too.
Ugh. Sorry.
A friendship is supposed to be give and take, and she's all take take take. When I want to talk about anything serious, she says "I can't handle this right now, I'm in a bad place." YOU'VE BEEN IN A BAD PLACE FOR FIVE YEARS. I need a best friend who is an actual FRIEND. I've been there for you always, and you're NEVER there for me, because you're always in a goddamn bad place. Oh, but you're never in a bad place to listen to someone ELSE's problems. When I Twitter about how there might actually be something wrong with me, instead of asking me what's wrong, or being helpful like you are to every freaking stranger on the internet and every other person on the planet, you make snarky, condescending comments to me that discount how I feel. You are the most selfish, horrible, UGLY-ass bitch I have ever met, and I cannot believe I'm friends with you. When we fight? It's because I stand UP to you, you ass. I decide that I'm not going to be your carpet anymore, because clearly I am the ONLY person in the world you treat like this - your BEST FRIEND, and you treat me like dogshit, while you'll treat everyone else on the planet like royalty. And you take OFFENSE to that? You're such a bitch, and I cannot STAND you. You think I'm going to make you my Maid of Honor; well, you're in for a big, nasty surprise. You'll be lucky if I even let you come to my wedding, because I know you're just going to be a big fat bitch about that, too.
Ugh. Sorry.
Monday, December 8, 2008
As long as we've got eachother...we've got the world spinning right in our hands...
I was internet-hopping, and I came across this. It struck me as really familiar; almost like reading pages out of my journal from different times over the last 3 years. It's weird to see it all clumped together in one group - it's like seeing my life and what I've just seen as growing pains listed so concisely. I'm a rambler; I've been told I'm too "wordy" or "verbose" more times than I can remember, almost weekly since 4th grade, so to see everything I've been rambling about wrapped up in such a neat little package is almost...I don't even know! I can't describe it. Anyway, here it is. I'm 25, and apparently what I've always called growing up has a name.
They call it the “Quarterlife Crisis.”
It is when you stop going along with the crowd and start realizing that there
are many things about yourself that you didn’t know and may not like. You start
feeling insecure and wonder where you will be in a year or two but then get
scared because you barely know where you are now.You start realizing that people are selfish and that, maybe, those friends that you thought you were so close to aren’t exactly the greatest people you have ever met, and the people you have lost touch with are some of the most important ones. What you don’t recognize is that they are realizing that too and aren’t really as cold, catty, mean, or insincere, but that they are just as confused as you are.
You look at your job, and it is not even close to what you thought you would be doing, or maybe you are looking for a job and realizing that you are going to have to
start at the bottom. That scares you.Your opinions have gotten stronger.
You see what others are doing and find yourself judging more than usual because
suddenly you realize that you have certain boundaries in your life and are
constantly adding things to your list of what is acceptable and what isn’t. One
minute you are insecure and then the next, secure.You laugh and cry with
the greatest force of your life. You feel alone and scared and confused.
Suddenly, change is the enemy and you try to cling on to the past for dear life
but soon realize that the past is drifting further and further away. There is
nothing to do but stay where you are or move forward.You get your heart broken and wonder how someone you loved could do such damage to you. Or you lie in bed and wonder why you can’t meet anyone decent enough that you want to get to know better. Or maybe you love someone but love someone else too and cannot figure out why you are doing this because you know that you aren’t a bad person. One night stands and random hook ups start to look cheap. Getting wasted and acting like an idiot starts to look pathetic.
You go through the same emotions and questions over and over, and you talk with your friends about the same topics because you cannot seem to make a decision. You worry about loans, money, the future, and making a life for yourself.
And while winning the race would be great, right now you’d just like to be a contender! What you may not realize is that everyone reading this relates to it. We are in our best of times and our worst of times, trying as hard as we can to figure this whole thing out.
Reflections on debt
I love winter. I love running around feeling too cold, and then entering the blissfully warm building that's your final destination, or even just running inside a random store that you wouldn't otherwise go into just to get warm. I love snow, and I LOVE walking outside at night all bundled up with the person you love looking up at the sky as snow starts to fall against the artificially-starry nightscape of your city. I love fireplaces! And coming home to a warm snuggly kitty!
I don't love getting up in the morning to go to work in the freezing cold, BUT this weather has really forced me to be a little more creative with my outfits for work. I've been stuck in this crazy rut for the last few months, where although I have more clothing than can fit in my walk-in closet, I seem to wear the same 5 things. I don't know what happened, because I used to have a lot of fun coming up with cute and creative outfits, and I rarely repeated. Actually, I think that's what happened - I started liking this guy, and I constantly wanted to look cute, and I became increasingly dissatisfied with what I owned because he'd already seen me in it, so I started shopping. Every other day. You know....now that back, I realize that that's how I got into so much debt, too. Shopping constantly, when I had no money. They used to warn us at school not to live like a lawyer before we were actually lawyers, and I was so good about following that for a while, and all of a sudden....it was gone. I was at the mall 3-4 times a week, easily dropping $300 each time. It was like I was in a frenzy and I had no control over my actions; I'd walk around in sort of a daze, buying tons of stuff, actually getting a rush every time I handed over my credit card. And then all of a sudden, I'd snap out of it, realize I had a whole bunch of bags in my hands, and I'd do a quick mental tally and realize that - yet again - I'd hit almost $300.
And it's not like I didn't buy a ton of stuff for $300; I'm not above shopping at Forever 21. It was my stomping ground. At least that's one good thing; I shopped so much that now I have a bajillion pieces that I can layer and pair in new ways. But yeah, I guess I just lost my creative touch because I was constantly buying new things and I didn't NEED to be creative. But now that I'm in so much debt, I can't shop anymore. For a while I was all "Boo hoo, I have no money and therefore I have nothing to wear," but now I've finally snapped out of it. Just in the last week, but still.
It's really awesome, actually, because I've started doing what I never understoof before: looking at outfits on television, in magazines and in movies, and noting one or two key pieces that I should get for the season. I've heard people talk about how they'd make lists of the two or three items they needed to buy each year, and I never GOT that - until now. It's awesome, because it means that I'm developing an ability to be frugal AND stylish. I've always had a strong sense of my own personal style, but for the longest time I thought it meant constantly having to replenish my wardrobe. Thank god I've grown out of that.
I don't love getting up in the morning to go to work in the freezing cold, BUT this weather has really forced me to be a little more creative with my outfits for work. I've been stuck in this crazy rut for the last few months, where although I have more clothing than can fit in my walk-in closet, I seem to wear the same 5 things. I don't know what happened, because I used to have a lot of fun coming up with cute and creative outfits, and I rarely repeated. Actually, I think that's what happened - I started liking this guy, and I constantly wanted to look cute, and I became increasingly dissatisfied with what I owned because he'd already seen me in it, so I started shopping. Every other day. You know....now that back, I realize that that's how I got into so much debt, too. Shopping constantly, when I had no money. They used to warn us at school not to live like a lawyer before we were actually lawyers, and I was so good about following that for a while, and all of a sudden....it was gone. I was at the mall 3-4 times a week, easily dropping $300 each time. It was like I was in a frenzy and I had no control over my actions; I'd walk around in sort of a daze, buying tons of stuff, actually getting a rush every time I handed over my credit card. And then all of a sudden, I'd snap out of it, realize I had a whole bunch of bags in my hands, and I'd do a quick mental tally and realize that - yet again - I'd hit almost $300.
And it's not like I didn't buy a ton of stuff for $300; I'm not above shopping at Forever 21. It was my stomping ground. At least that's one good thing; I shopped so much that now I have a bajillion pieces that I can layer and pair in new ways. But yeah, I guess I just lost my creative touch because I was constantly buying new things and I didn't NEED to be creative. But now that I'm in so much debt, I can't shop anymore. For a while I was all "Boo hoo, I have no money and therefore I have nothing to wear," but now I've finally snapped out of it. Just in the last week, but still.
It's really awesome, actually, because I've started doing what I never understoof before: looking at outfits on television, in magazines and in movies, and noting one or two key pieces that I should get for the season. I've heard people talk about how they'd make lists of the two or three items they needed to buy each year, and I never GOT that - until now. It's awesome, because it means that I'm developing an ability to be frugal AND stylish. I've always had a strong sense of my own personal style, but for the longest time I thought it meant constantly having to replenish my wardrobe. Thank god I've grown out of that.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
A beginning
This is the start (or...re-start) of an attempt to blog. I feel like I used to have more interesting things to say while I was in law school than I do now...and it's funny, because while I was in law school, I'd read entries from my journal from college and think that in college I had more interesting things to say than while in law school. Is it just a "the grass is always greener" thing with respect to the past? Or is it really just that things have gotten a lot less interesting as I grow older?I dunno. My life is good. Maybe not interesting, but it makes me really happy. I have a nice apartment, though I really need to get out of it and stop paying rent out the butt; I have a good job that's total cake and I know I'm going to cry my eyes out next year when I have to leave it; I have an awesome boyfriend and we're going to start living in sin soon, and I'm really excited about that; I have 2 adorable kitties who like to meow their faces off at me, which I love; apparently an adorable little townhouse with a fireplace is actually within my financial reach RIGHT NOW, which is really nice to know; I (think) I have enough money to buy Christmas presents, as long as I'm frugal and spend less than I've spent in the past; I have good friends and fun things to do; once I move out I can get a puppyyyy!
In the last few weeks I've grown increasingly more optimistic. I don't know what it is, but out of nowhere my thinking shifted from what I don't have (money, clothing I like, a body I want) to things I DO have (love, laughter, a place to sleep and shower, a way to clean my clothes so that I don't look or smell homeless, job security, access to an in-building gym that's open 24/7 to GET the body I want and the will power to stop eating all the crap that keeps me from getting it). How did this happen, and when? Is this what growing up is like?
Yeah, there are a lot of things I still want (money, a trip to Greece, amazing shoes and accessories and clothing), but that will all come. I'm certainly not destitute. And you know, I'm sure that I could go shopping a little more often (or..at all) if I didn't constantly give money away to homeless people. But you know...while I may not have much, I have enough. They have NOTHING. I really don't need a new top more than a homeless person needs that extra dollar (or two, or five, or thirty, or whatever it adds up to now) to be able to finish paying for the bottle of water he's come short on at the 7-11. It's strange. There's a whooole lotta turmoil in my life right now, mostly related to money, and it's evidencing itself in my caloric intake again, because money issues are extraordinarily stressful...but everything else in my life really helps, somehow. I'm very much in love, and I'm very, very happy. I love my meow meows and they love me...and no, I'm still not a cat person. These are little doggies in kitty costumes, I swear. I swear to god Boy Cat barked last night.
But anyway...yeah. I'm so happy. Is this how it's supposed to be? In hindsight, I think that I've never really been in love before this, because shouldn't love make it so that everything bad in your life seems bearable, shouldn't it make it so that you can see the light at the end of the tunnel? I've never been able to see the light at the end of the tunnel before, but now I can. I'm so optimistic, because with the way I feel, how could anything possibly be bad? I don't need luxury. Yes, of course, I WANT luxury - who doesn't? But I don't NEED it, and I'm perfectly ok without it.When I was younger I used to have what I eventually grew to think of as a completely unrealistic expectation for love and my life. I used to tell people that I didn't care where I lived or how much money I had, so long as I had a person I loved with me. A direct quote from my diary, circa 7th grade: "I don't care if I live in a cardboard box, as long as he's with me, because he'll keep me dry from the rain and warm from the cold with his love." Stupid and mushy and childish, and as I got older and 'loved' people I stopped believing that; quote from my diary, circa freshman year of college: "Whoever said money can't buy you love is an idiot. You can't be happy if you don't have money, because you're always stressed out. All you do is fight and worry about money. Things won't be ok if you're homeless, no matter who's with you. It just can't work. You need money to make life ok, so that you can actually enjoy life with your loved ones."And now...I'm back to the idealistic 7th grade mentality. It CAN work; yeah, it's hard. Of course it's hard, because who doesn't worry when there's barely any extra money at the end of the month after bills alone, and it's hard to buy food? But why does money have to be the actual key to happiness? Why do you have to spend money in order to enjoy life? Sitting on the couch talking and laughing is free, and enjoyable; maybe not with everyone, but certainly with the right person. Walking down the street is free, and when you're holding hands with someone you love, somehow everything you see and hear and smell is brighter, more vibrant, clearer. It was never like this before, and now it is.
There have been bad times...and they matter, of course they matter. But the fact that we can grow from them and be better for it, and the fact that they can happen and I can STILL feel this way? That matters more to me.
I should probably just shut up now. This got really long, and I think I went on a tangent somewhere, but I don't remember where. LOL. I have work to do, and I'm not staying past 5. Woooo! I'm happy! And I'm not apologizing for it! Woooo!
In the last few weeks I've grown increasingly more optimistic. I don't know what it is, but out of nowhere my thinking shifted from what I don't have (money, clothing I like, a body I want) to things I DO have (love, laughter, a place to sleep and shower, a way to clean my clothes so that I don't look or smell homeless, job security, access to an in-building gym that's open 24/7 to GET the body I want and the will power to stop eating all the crap that keeps me from getting it). How did this happen, and when? Is this what growing up is like?
Yeah, there are a lot of things I still want (money, a trip to Greece, amazing shoes and accessories and clothing), but that will all come. I'm certainly not destitute. And you know, I'm sure that I could go shopping a little more often (or..at all) if I didn't constantly give money away to homeless people. But you know...while I may not have much, I have enough. They have NOTHING. I really don't need a new top more than a homeless person needs that extra dollar (or two, or five, or thirty, or whatever it adds up to now) to be able to finish paying for the bottle of water he's come short on at the 7-11. It's strange. There's a whooole lotta turmoil in my life right now, mostly related to money, and it's evidencing itself in my caloric intake again, because money issues are extraordinarily stressful...but everything else in my life really helps, somehow. I'm very much in love, and I'm very, very happy. I love my meow meows and they love me...and no, I'm still not a cat person. These are little doggies in kitty costumes, I swear. I swear to god Boy Cat barked last night.
But anyway...yeah. I'm so happy. Is this how it's supposed to be? In hindsight, I think that I've never really been in love before this, because shouldn't love make it so that everything bad in your life seems bearable, shouldn't it make it so that you can see the light at the end of the tunnel? I've never been able to see the light at the end of the tunnel before, but now I can. I'm so optimistic, because with the way I feel, how could anything possibly be bad? I don't need luxury. Yes, of course, I WANT luxury - who doesn't? But I don't NEED it, and I'm perfectly ok without it.When I was younger I used to have what I eventually grew to think of as a completely unrealistic expectation for love and my life. I used to tell people that I didn't care where I lived or how much money I had, so long as I had a person I loved with me. A direct quote from my diary, circa 7th grade: "I don't care if I live in a cardboard box, as long as he's with me, because he'll keep me dry from the rain and warm from the cold with his love." Stupid and mushy and childish, and as I got older and 'loved' people I stopped believing that; quote from my diary, circa freshman year of college: "Whoever said money can't buy you love is an idiot. You can't be happy if you don't have money, because you're always stressed out. All you do is fight and worry about money. Things won't be ok if you're homeless, no matter who's with you. It just can't work. You need money to make life ok, so that you can actually enjoy life with your loved ones."And now...I'm back to the idealistic 7th grade mentality. It CAN work; yeah, it's hard. Of course it's hard, because who doesn't worry when there's barely any extra money at the end of the month after bills alone, and it's hard to buy food? But why does money have to be the actual key to happiness? Why do you have to spend money in order to enjoy life? Sitting on the couch talking and laughing is free, and enjoyable; maybe not with everyone, but certainly with the right person. Walking down the street is free, and when you're holding hands with someone you love, somehow everything you see and hear and smell is brighter, more vibrant, clearer. It was never like this before, and now it is.
There have been bad times...and they matter, of course they matter. But the fact that we can grow from them and be better for it, and the fact that they can happen and I can STILL feel this way? That matters more to me.
I should probably just shut up now. This got really long, and I think I went on a tangent somewhere, but I don't remember where. LOL. I have work to do, and I'm not staying past 5. Woooo! I'm happy! And I'm not apologizing for it! Woooo!
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