Tuesday, April 28, 2009

I'm just beginning to accept that I'm awesome.

My high-school boyfriend, who I was totally in love with and lost my virginity to on FUCKING prom night ( I know-What the fuck) was like a total douche in a lot of ways, but I was young and you know-stupid.

But he was a good guy on some levels and super sexy to me for some reason (DAMN you oxytocin) so I could never really get him out of my system. Finally, a few years ago (read: after I got married) we became "friendly" like as friends that speak every couple of months, but also went through a period of life together where they were like licking out each others assholes.

Anyway, he's got like the HUGEST ego That only a Leo narcissist could, but most of the time I find it fairly amusing-although when I was obsessed with his every move I found it incredibly destructive-to say the least. But he's always had this thing where he thought he was better and smarter than everyone around him. Even his elders.

Now, I don't know if it's a gender thing, or a me questioning myself thing, but I never got him being all on his high horse. Well, I guess I got it to the extent I rationalized it as a result of him being mentally ill/raised my a mother who constantly praised him while she regaled us with stories of her acid dropping hippy days (Seriously, this dude used to mutter in his sleep from all the Lorazapam he ingested-she loved to feed her kids pharmaceuticals) I mean really. I was like-why do you think you're all that? You seem like a pretty huge nerd, weirdo to me.

Back to the present-we were talking the other day. Yadda, Yadda, Yadda. How are you? , What are you up to? And he's like, "I'm just beginning to accept I'm awesome. I mean I always knew I was good. But I mean, I'm really awesome. At my job, life, etc."

Me? I'm like barf, gag me, you're so full of yourself, good thing you have a picture perfect dick to back up that huge ego-you know. Just like-REALLY this guy is deluded.

But today-at my volunteership-I was listening to the volunteer lawyers talk to a group of women. I'm so used to being in this world full of people training to be lawyers-but we have no clients. OUR WHOLE GOAL of works-and I don't know how to talk to people. And the way this lawyer was explaining the law and the job to this group of women-it HIT me. BAM. SHAzam!

I'm not just paying for the smarts, for the intellect part of it (where I feel, frankly, pretty fucking weak). I'm paying for access to a community, where I know people, and network and act with integrity and build a reputation. It all depends on ME. Just me SISTAH. I gotta work the rope line, flatter, call shots, and do it with a shit load of class and just the right amount of aggression and little bit of brain power to round it all out. FUCK! No wonder the law isn't an easy job. And no wonder, for so long, it belonged to men. It's built for men. You have to be KING COCK in the law, strut your shit, talk the dude langauge, and leave no doubt in your mind or anyone elses just how fucking awesome you are.

I won't even go into how as a feminist things need to change and gender rolls and bullshit. But here's this. If I'm entering this legal world-which really was just opened up to women 150 years ago after 100's of years of monopoly by men-I'm going to have to learn how to play the game.
Which means I have to get all liberal feminist on this legal ass and gain full access before I can change it from the inside out. Or at least so I can make a ton of money.

Which means I need to play up my strengths. And get ready to shout from the fucking roof-tops, " You know, I'm beginning to accept that I'm awesome. I knew I was good. But I'm awesome."

Because, half the battle is walking into a room, and sending out that message and not giving them any other reason to think otherwise.

So thanks. Thanks high-school boyfriend. For teaching me this weird lesson. Sometimes taking life by the balls, and telling it you're better than most, even if it isn't true, really works in driving you towards success.

If the law won't work for me with how I think as a woman, I'm going to start to act like a man-and think I'm and the mother fucking shit regardless.

Whoa. It felt good to get that off my chest. And my balls.

Sunday, April 26, 2009

Note to Self.

Don't write blog about having crush on someone and leave computer screen open to said blog so that husband will see (and read it).  


5 Things on My Mind-Sunday Night Edition

1. Swine Flu

This shit reminds me reading "The Plague" by Camus when I was in college and all going through this existentialist, everything is meaningless phase.  But reading about it in a book while chain-smoking in front of your dorm and watching kids in Mexico ride bikes around wearing surgical masks are two different things.  I really don't understand this virus thing-and I don't know what to believe from the news.  Are they telling us everything, are they going overboard to keep up with the crazy-ass news cycle we have going these day, who are "they" any way?  FUCK.  Well, if I get swine flu at least I won't have to go to class.  

2. Reality programming.

It seems that everywhere you turn, if you are me, there's reality t.v.  involving some sort of prize (love/money/infamy) waiting for the contestants at the end.  I just watched the movie "Grey Gardens" inspired by the documentary "Grey Gardens"  and it's like these two women were the original-and ultimate- reality t.v. show characters.  I wonder what would have happened to them had their lives been made into a serialized television program?  Reality shows put this thin layer of cheapened slime all over pop culture-has pop culture always been slightly cheapened though?  Maybe just not as slimy.  

I don't know.  With the Internet, facebook, blogs, reality t.v., 24 hour news cycles, and texting it just seems like my mind isn't getting out and stretching its mind legs.  I zip through websites, drinking in what I can in a few minutes or less, and communicating through 5 word sentence texts to friends-too lazy to even have an actual conversation.  I can't even drag my ass off the damn couch to take a shower on weekends.  I'm too busy spoon feeding myself dribble about celebrity relationships and pandemics that may or may not occur at any second.  

The ladies that lived in Grey Gardens, although they were off their rockers and lived in a condemnable home, spent their days singing, dancing, creating costumes and stories.  Living, crazily, but living taking full advantage of their imaginations and creativity.  The most creative thing I've done lately is create a sorority avatar on facebook.  And here I am bitching about it all on my blog.  While watching narcissistic people exploit themselves on camera for my viewing pleasure.  While I blog.  And receive texts.    

3. Break-ups.  

Yeah, not the kind-of break-ups that involved cutting it off with someone you're doing it with.  Like break-ups with someone your friends with.  It's seriously one of those things I don't know how to handle.  It's like I'm growing up-and those that I've been through a lot of fun times with-It's just that we're not flying in the same direction.  I want to have one of those, "It's not you, it's me" conversations.  Because really. It is.  But who am I kidding.  I'm not any good at ending relationships.  I'm always like, I'll either still fuck you or drink with you-It's something I have to get better at.  

4. Finals, money, summer school, weight-loss.  

These 4 thoughts stream through my mind at relentless pace, streaming through all my other daily concerns, until I have one big mind fuck at the end of the day-pushing them to the back burner-balancing not going into denial about my bills and studying, but also trying to stay focused on one thing at a time.  Welcome to being an adult bitch.  It only took me like through half my 20's to get here. 

5. Insomnia. 

I cannot sleep lately.  Maybe if I showered once in awhile my weekend stench wouldn't keep me awake on Sunday nights.  

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

The dog doesn't know to go to bed.

My life is so lame.  But weird. And awesome.  

I'm feeling conflicted. 

I decided today that I'm going to school through the summer.  My response: 

Well, duh.  FIRST watch "the biggest loser", which is not only the best show ever, but the only redeeming show on television.  I fucking love that shit, and now I have dry eyes from crying, (which I do every week).  That show and LOST are my only two favorites and LOST is such a pile of turd, but I can't turn away.  I'm too invested and it's too satisfying. 

I met up with Steve and Ann today.  Steve is the dude that got me into law school by writing by resume and making it sound awesome (which was fairly difficult, since the most I've done is like drink alcohol and make lattes) and his wife Ann, who went to law school and now works for West publishing in a super boring job, but makes a shit ton of money.  

Steve is a chef. Ann is a lawyer.  Sort of reflects my own life.  

They've been married 30 years and made it work. BUt here's the thing.  Steve had a goal.  He not only had an undergraduate degree-he got his masters and wrote a fucking book!  My husband seems like he's just hanging out.  And I hate it when he's all depressed and music is the only thing that makes him happy.  It's a bad sign.  

He complains about the house, and the chores, and the responsibility.  Finally I was like, BABE-fuck you a million times over because I feel like I'm the one that MADE us buy this house ( I supplied the down payment) and encouraged the dog, and forced the marriage, and maybe I would like a little romance or thanks in return for basically me turning your life around from being some roommate/pot-smoking musician into a responsible home-owning husband.  

BUT maybe he didn't want that.  Maybe he wanted to be the pot-smoking roommate. 

Ahhh...I really don't think so.  I wanted to marry the dude for some reason.  Here's the thing.  
That asshole needs to reach WAY down deep and figure out what he wants to do with this one, short, sweet life.  I want him to be satisfied, fulfilled, happy.  I don't want some bump on the couch that complains all day.  

I'm moving on with my life.  figuring out what I can.  I can't hand-hold him into a sense of worth for him.   He needs to know-what can I handle-what am I able to figure out-who do I want to serve? 

Sometimes when I get pissed and frustrated, I remember.  I remember that person I fell in love with-so deeply.  Not to sound like a total asshole, but in that love I found myself.  It's amazing, but true.  I tumbled into someone that gave me permission to be myself.  It sounds so simple, but when you live it-it's unreal.  

I became myself and I wanted to marry him.  This is how I feel about marriage.  This is why EVERYONE should be legally allowed to engage in it.  

I was 100% committed to the idea of him becoming my family.  My other.  I wanted to kiss him on my honeymoon ( see above) and deal with all the administrative shit after the fact.  

Let me tell you, the " after the fact" is really what marriage is about.  

Sometimes I can't stand the look of his face, other's I want to make a pact to die together because I can't imagine living without him by my side.  

that's what long-term love is.  It's overcoming the hormonal/chemical connection (that is proven to wear off after 5 years) 

It's overcoming the momentary issues (when it's not meant to be-you know it). 

It's standing at the aisle in front of 100 family/strangers and declaring your ultimate love in front of a God you don't really believe in (but believe in enough to capitalize), an idea of commitment and sacrifice.  An idea of love that exists, not all the time, but sometimes.  In the glance, in the touch of your fingers, in paying God damn bills together.  That belief that sometimes is enough, that the sacrifice is worth it.  That at the end of the day-the only person the gives your orgasms and light and calls you on your bullshit is worth all the conflict.  

He's the one you marry in a Russian vodka bar and the one you go away with to a sheltered resort in Wisconsin.  He's the one you kiss in a photo and it doesn't seem cheesy-although if it were anyone else it would.  

In the middle of the night-when you're worried and anxious and you feel the most alone.  

Who's there? 

They are.  The ones that sleep with you.  

Unconscious, but subconsciously alert to your slightest touch and movement.  Spooning a little bit tighter, moving their leg so you can slip yours in between, loving you even though you are vulnerable-alone-afraid or unsure-holding you tight and not judging that your belly had started to spill over the edge of your pajama bottoms just a bit more.  

THEY are what you've been waiting for.  It may not always be exciting.  

It make not always be romantic.  

But it is real-and it is you-and it is them.  

It is a kiss on a honeymoon  declaring-I am yours-no matter what.  

Beyond that-What is there? 

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Sunday at Home.

I can't believe how goofy my husband is.  And the dog is always all over him-like attached to him by the head or paw or belly always.  Gawd.  She's so cute. After I write this I'm going sneak back into bed between the two of them and scratch her ears.   

I was so looking forward to spending the summer with them.  SO SO SO!  Instead, I've decided to take 8-10 credits over my "break" and graduate a semester early.  Why?  I'm not sure if it's stupid yet, and probably won't know until I've actually done it, but at this point if feels like a no-brainer.  The classes are easier, 2 classes are done in 1 WEEK!, and I'll be able to get the fuck out of there.  Seriously.  I can't live like a student anymore.  It's my 27th birthday this year, and I cannot imagine waiting until I'm 28 to actually get my license and start practicing.  I've been doing this shit since I was 23.  It's taking forever!  I want to get this show on the road.  

That means another 3 months of not seeing the dog and the husband.  No wonder she's so attached to him. 

I am thrilled about spending a weekend at the end of May at Fitgers (we have a 2 for 1 coupon for being member of MPR-Sweet).  I love Duluth in the spring-and Dustin's band is playing with a group called Too Many Banjos (?) and a magician (Gob Bluth?)  at Luce.   As long as I'm able to walk by the lake and shop and have brunch and bloody mary's on Sunday morning-I'm happy.  The week after that I'll be starting all over again.  I just have to hold onto the things I'm looking forward to and attempt to put a positive spin on the things I'm not.  Sometimes, I think I'm crazy when I see other people with jobs and lives and no school debt.  FUCK!  I guess I just wouldn't know any other way to live.  Even if it's totally dumb.