Finding Grace, Day 9, and books books books.

1. Beautiful wedding venues with amazing skylight domes.
2. Sunshine and Spring on its way!
3. Netflix
4. Having a friend I can talk to and tell things to without being judged, insulted or ridiculed. She's amazing. :)
5. Access to a gym.
6. The fact that the new apartment building I just checked out looks exactly like it does in its online pictures...no lies! Hooray!

You know, I've always read more Young Adult fiction than any other type of book. I read a lot of historical fiction, and I like to read books that touch on or deal with eating disorders, sexual abuse, child abuse. But YA? I love it! YA novels are so much fun. I can still relate to a lot of the stuff they write about (possibly because kids today aren't really kids anymore...they're trying to grow up so quickly that they're basically experiencing the same things I experience now, except without the responsibility of rent and bills and trying to keep a job), and they're just FUN. They're light without being chick lit (which is just stupid, because the only thing chick lit is ever about is a woman who has an awesome life but is unhappy because she doesn't have a MAN oh noes!).

I mean, yeah, there are a lot of stupid YA books out there, but there are a lot of really good ones, too! And seriously, YA vampire books are SO much better than adult ones are. Adult vampire books try to be all DARK and SEXY and MYSTERIOUS and SOPHISTICATED, but it just ends up being annoying and pretentious and stupid (I'm talking to you, Anne Rice). Even though I'm 25, I don't care. I'm not ashamed to walk into the Children's section at a bookstore. I worked at a bookstore for 6 years and the children's section was MINE, all mine, and I loved it so much that walking into one all by myself, with the intent of purchasing books for no one but myself, does nothing but bring back all the joyful memories of those 6 years. I love the smell of books, and I particularly love that the children's section is always so colorful and bright - even the YA section of it. I could spend hours there...even though I no longer get paid to spend on average 8 hours a day there, lol.

I have to say, I miss working in a bookstore a lot. I don't miss the customers, but I miss constantly being surrounded by books, having unlimited access to the new and the upcoming and the old, being able to just surround myself with new worlds the size of a 5x7 picture. As I do more and more legal work, and I realize what I've committed myself, I think that this is just not the career for me. I'm good at it, but it simply doesn't interest me, at least not what I'll be doing, really. I hope that I'm wrong, and I hope that I do get put into a department where I can actually explore my interests (preferably family law, of course). But truly, I think books are where my heart lies. I've thrown the idea back and forth a lot, but I really think that I'm just going to stick out the lawyer thing for a few years until I pay off my loans, and then I'm going to open up a bookstore. It would be the most fantastic thing ever; I DREAM about it.

At the end of high school, when it was time to decide which college to go to, I remember feeling like I didn't need or want to go to college because I'd already discovered my passion, my career. I loved my store, and I never wanted to leave it. My parents understandably flipped, as did my older co-workers. I'm happy they did, because I think that left to my own devices I probably would have foregone college, which wouldn't have been good. And plus, I had an awesome time there. But either way, as more time passes, I think I was right. Books are my passion; I LOVE them. They call to me, and I think now, more than ever, I'm almost ready to return their call.

Finding Grace, Day 5

Ha, I've gotten so bad! It amuses me that I was aiming to at least do the Grace in Small Things post daily, but I can't do even that! I guess I should be thankful that I'm so busy that I can't get to it...so with that in mind, my list:

1. Being busy. It's nice to have a life, a job, kitties and a fiance. I love my life, simple as it is.
2. Inside jokes with coworkers.
3. Bigglesworth (story coming soon!)
4. Reconnecting with old friends.

Life is good right now. I'm one of those people that kind of falls off the face of the planet...not purposely, it's just that I get wrapped up in 5 or 6 things going on in my life, and though I *mean* to call you, I forget until, oh...2 in the morning. I'm really productive at 2 in the morning...but unfortunately, most people are in bed by then, and it's kind of rude to call someone up at 2 that you haven't talked to in years just to chat. As of late, though, I've gotten a lot better at keeping in touch with people...I answer calls more frequently now, or return messages within 24 hours, and have made it a point to keep present friendships going strong.

Is it a part of growing up? I guess it is. I had two close friends my freshman year of college that were my life preservers that year...I would not have made it to the end of the year without them. But after I transferred, I just...disappeared. I didn't even tell them I was going! And I don't know why I did that. It's not that I didn't miss them...I definitely did, and it's not that I was hiding it from them. But I just....disappeared. Years passed, we all graduated college...and then I started finding people on Facebook, and voila! A means of re-connection. It didn't really happen that quickly...but it definitely happened. And now I'm pleased to say that we see each other every 3-4 months or so...I know it's not a lot, but we're all adults, have separate busy lives, and we all live so far away from each other that it's HUGE that we can still keep in touch!

I guess what I mean by 'it's a part of growing up' is that I am more...responsible with my personal life now. I don't let things just fall by the wayside anymore, I don't just let myself be lazy. I think that's what the problem was - I was lazy. Well, correction...I AM lazy. It's not that I don't care about these people, because I DO - I desperately do. But keeping in touch over long distances, when you're busy with work and friends who are closer, requires effort. And of course I want to put effort in...but before, I would be like "I should call so and so..." but then end up getting sucked into a tv show, which of course doesn't require any effort. If the phone was too far away, I wouldn't get up. But now...as I get older, I'm realizing that being lazy is just not worth it. I don't get ANYTHING out of being lazy.

I love my friends, and I've made it my goal to ensure that they know just how much I love them. They can't know that if I don't make the effort to show them. That's not to say I'm a bad friend; I'm extremely loyal, always interested in what they have to say, would take a bullet for them, etc. It's just that I have decided that it's time for me to go above and beyond. I think friendships are greatly enriched when you BOTH pick up the phone equally, rather than one person picking up the phone more than the other. At least, that's how I feel about my friendships. I feel that since I started making an effort to pick up and call that person more, it's gotten better and better.

Oh! And another thing! What's awesome is that the people that I've re-connected with, be it from a long time ago or recently, are friends with whom I am somehow able to pick up right where we left off. Those two girls I mentioned? It's as if no time has passed whatsoever. I find that to be true for everyone I've re-connected with. Granted, I don't have tons of friends, so it's not like it's happening left and right...but of the 4-5 people I've reconnected with in the last 2 years, it's as if we're still in the same town/class/school/whatever. It's amazing. I don't know if it's that it's the kind of person that I'm drawn to socially, or what...but I'm just so thankful for these people in my life. I'm so thankful that I've been able to get them back into my life, and I'm so thankful that they want me back in theirs.

So, here's to friendships!

Couple Envy

I've been part of a couple for most of my adult life...I got my first 'real' boyfriend when I was 17, and we stayed together for 7 years. My next boyfriend came along a few months later, and now we're engaged. And before all that, there was my 'first' 'love' boyfriend, with whom I had one of those crazy, high school drama, obsessively 'in love' relationships that was on again, off again, ad nauseum, for most of high school.

And now I'm noticing (presently and in retrospect) this phenomenon I've dubbed 'couple envy' amongst my group of friends, online, etc etc etc.

I dunno what it is, really...I guess every couple has another couple they aspire to be like, want to emulate, things like that? I can think of one couple that I sometimes wish my fiance and I were more like - but I can also think of more than one couple that wants to be like me and my fiance. It's like the outward appearance of someone else's relationship seems more attractive than your actual experience as a couple. And that's not to say that anyone's relationship is bad (of course, there are always bad relationships, but no one I'm thinking of, including myself, is in one right now), it's more to say...the grass is always greener.

I mean, think about it. No one else knows what your relationship is like behind closed doors, so they only know your relationship as you project it when you're out there in the world. Some people project a better image - always sweet, always happy, holding hands, cuddly in public, sending eachother cutesy notes. And to the cutesy, PDA-approving people in the world, that kind of relationship image is totally ideal (like me!). But some people project a worse image - always fighting, never happy, seemingly more comfortable without the significant other than with. And no one wants that.

But those images don't really mean anything - it's just what other people see. The couple that's always fighting in public might be super sweet and cutesy at home...and the super sweet public couple might constantly be fighting at home. But no one knows that! So in comes couple envy. "I wish we were more like that." "Why don't you do these things for me, like so and so does for so and so?" "They're so close and seem to know each other so well, I wish we could be like that."

I know my thoughts on this are all over the place...which is kind of reflective of my thought process in general, but still. I never really started noticing this until a night a few weekends ago when my fiance and I went to my closest friend (from law school)'s place to play games with her, her boyfriend (another super close friend from law school), and my fiance's best friend and his new girl. We played Taboo, where you have to try to get your partner to guess the word on the top of the card by describing it, but to describe it you can't use certain 'taboo' words. Like, for 'zebra', you can't use the words Africa, animal, black and white, or striped.

I totally thought that my fiance and I would do horribly, since he's not a big game person, and I've only played once and I did really badly then. Plus, playing against my two close friends who've been together for 3 years, I figured they'd win by a landslide as they know each other so well. But weirdly enough, my fiance and I kicked total ass...it was insane! Every round we were getting 9-10 points, whereas every other couple was averaging around 3. It seems that he and I are much more in sync with each other than my close friends were - and that's what really got my wondering about this. They're a couple that seem so close, and perfect for each other, and who show affection in all the right ways, and seem to have a relationship that I'd strive for - but we're more in sync than they were. We knew more things about each other than they did, and so, while I still think they have a really good relationship...maybe they also just project an exceptionally good image of their relationship. I have no idea how much they fight, or how much they talk about who they are as individuals, etc.

And of course, that's not to say my fiance and I project a horrible image. We're cuddly people...we hold hands all the time, laugh constantly, genuinely enjoy each other's company, which I've been told shows. And while we fight once in a while, it's not often. We've of course had a few serious fights, but it's been a long time since we had one of those, and we learned a lot about each other doing it. And what was funny about the end of the game was that his best friend's new girlfriend said to me, "You guys are like the perfect couple. I hope we get to be just like you guys one day." But we've had our ups and downs, and it took a lot to get to where we are. I never would have thought someone would want to be just like us...but then...why not?

So...all this rambling to say...you can't always judge a relationship by its cover.* And you certainly shouldn't want to be just like it, either, because what works for one couple won't always work for another. And on top of that, shouldn't we all want to be our own couple, with our own habits and tendencies? If anything, that game made me realize that I love us for who we are, not for what we'd be if we copied someone else. We are distinct people, and naturally when we come together, it's not going to be the same as any other relationship, ever.

Wow, this was long and rambly.

* - But you can TOTALLY judge a BOOK by its cover. Trust me.

First Kiss

My first kiss was something sort of magical. I was 5, it was summer, and it was with my best friend, P.J. He and I used to spend the summers doing nothing and everything, like little kids do in the summer. We'd ride our bikes down the street, careful to avoid the sidewalk in front of the ugly brown house where the creepy old man would sit on the porch and yell at kids for being on his sidewalk.

P.J. and I lived down the street from one another; I lived in the middle of Audrey Terrace, and he lived 4 houses down, on the corner of Crescent Ave. and Audrey. We used to spend a lot of time by the hydrant on the corner furthest away from his house, planning to move to Florida together and marry each other. We were going to start a whale-watching business; he'd be the ship captain, and I'd run the business end of things from the house, and wait for him to come home every evening. I didn't really understand the concept of a widow's walk back then, but every time I read about a woman walking to the end of a pier or the end of her little balcony (literally, the widow's walk) waiting for her husband to come home, I'd think of P.J. and our plans. I imagined myself doing that same walk every evening, waiting for him to come home from work.

One morning we ran down to the fire hydrant closest to his house. I was sitting on top of it, my back to the street and his house to my left, when he told me to close my eyes. I asked why, and he said he had a surprise for me so I did. And then he kissed me. I remember the brief touch of his lips to mine; I don't remember if they were cold or warm, but I do remember that they felt firm against my lips. The sun was streaming through the trees around us, and there was a soft, warm breeze that kept me warm.

It was a sweet moment, and it will always be coupled with the memory of another neighborhood kid, our age, riding his bike past us at that moment and yelling "OOOOOOH I'M TELLING!!!!!" and then riding his bike down to my house where my mom was talking to P.J.'s mom. My eyes snapped open as he yelled it, and me and P.J. both gave out these crazy Tarzan yells and started running after him. Then, we denied the kiss to our parents.

Move, bitch! Get out the way!

Ha, I think I'm already failing at posting more often. Go me!

And the sad part is, this post doesn't really count, at least in my book, because it's more of a rant. Remember that so-called best friend, who treats me like trash and couldn't muster up any happiness for me upon my engagement? Well, I'd already decided not to make her my maid of honor, because it's totally inappropriate to hold that position when all you can do is talk about how much you hate the groom, without being able to give a better reason than "He tells fart jokes." Honestly? Some people like low brow humor; if you don't, who cares? It's not a reason to hate someone. But whatever.

So I've been struggling with whether to make her a bridesmaid...part of me thought I should, because I feel like if I don't, we'll stop being friends, no matter how I try to explain to her that I don't feel comfortable having in my bridal party someone who doesn't support the marriage at all and hates the groom so much. This upset me, since we've been friends for so long...but right now, I've basically decided that she's not in my wedding, at all, and I don't have to explain anything to her. She doesn't explain anything to me, and she has made it perfectly clear that she doesn't give a crap about what I say or how I feel, unless it's to sing praises of her, so...no.

What brought this on? I twittered about the inappropriateness of my ex-boyfriend sending me flowers on what would have been our anniversary, even though I've asked him to stop contacting me (because he can't seem to get it into his head that I refuse to be friends with him if all he can ever do is tell me he loves me and try to convince me that I still love him and we belong together, even though I'm with someone else and happier than I ever was with him). He knows I'm with someone, and that's just inappropriate. I want him to move on, and get out my life. This, apparently makes me "kind of a bitch."

Why? Because I don't want to tolerate toxic people? He's a toxic person. He spent years telling me that because he was so old (there was a 14 year age difference between us), if I ever broke up with him he'd never be able to have kids or get married, because at his age I was the last chance to do any of those things. Heavy stuff for someone so young, because he started that bullshit when I was 19. I'd say that the last 4 and a half years of our relationship even happened because I felt so guilty that I felt like I HAD to stay, even though I was unhappy.

Why does not wanting that in my life anymore make me a bitch? Oh, right, because you liked him (because he was old, and didn't do anything except listen to music and watch television like you, including the same sci-fi shows) and you hate my fiance (because he was a Marine, and he tells fart jokes) ? Yeah, whatever.

"Wow, you're kind of a bitch. And speaking of him, can you give me his address?" Yeah, fuck you. You're going to call me a bitch for living my life the way *I* want to (because you know what? I don't really care if you liked him, YOU liking him is not enough of a reason for ME to stay with him) and then turn around and ask me for a favor? You've got to be kidding me. Go e-mail him and ask him yourself, stop being so lazy. If you love him so much and think I'm such a bitch for not being with him and not wanting his passive-aggressive tactics in my life anymore, why don't you stop speaking to me and go date him yourself?

Oh right, because he'd never date you. Because he thinks you're a lazy, selfish bitch. Not that you'd know that. Because I protected you from that, because you WERE my best friend, and you don't need to know when my significant others dislike you, especially if you really like them and they're really pleasant and nice to you. Why hurt your self-esteem even more?

God, what a waste. I spent so much time thinking about her feelings, and apparently...so did she. Well, at least the decision's made for me. I'm not putting her in my bridal party, and I'm not talking to her about that decision, because it's my wedding and I don't have to explain myself to anyone except my fiancee. She'll get an invitation, and then it's up to her whether to come or not.

****
Woo, I feel better with that off my chest. It's amazing how much better I feel after posting rants semi-anonymously on the internet. Sorry...I'm really going to need to get on making a normal, non-ranty post soon.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!