ramblings on a recent life change

my first post in months is thesis-less and all over the place, but if you’re patient, you can share some good news with me!

my whole life, i’ve always wanted to categorize people. introvert, extrovert, popular kid, nerd, jock. and yet, if i don’t fall into any clear-cut categories, it’s unlikely anyone else does. my entire life, i’ve over-analyzed, watched from the outside, been painfully self-conscious and brutally self-critical. in middle school, i dreaded getting off the bus because i was scared of tripping. no joke, i would tensely wait in my seat, picturing how i would get up and hold my bag just so in order to smoothly exit the vehicle. i hated it. i was self-conscious about getting up in class, or having to talk to a teacher. i rehearsed conversations in my head, and took different routes through school hallways because it was easier than having to figure out how to interact with certain people. i didn’t like shopping for clothes because i felt intimidated by the other girls in the juniors’ department. i’m still like this over a decade later. i always feel other people’s eyes on me, but am much more adept at faking nonchalance and confidence.

which is why in high school, i shocked everyone (including myself) when i actually chose to audition for the school’s very exclusive and very popular show choir. even more jaw-dropping, i made it into the choir and even wracked up a solo which i performed over a dozen times.

now, at age 25, looking for a position somewhere as an attorney, i’m surprising myself again. i so very badly want to be a prosecutor. why, as someone so awkward and insecure, someone who has rampant insomnia because of her neuroses, would i want to be an attorney who must be in court five days a week? on record, doing trials, before a judge and jury scrutinizing my every action and word?

it’s a mystery. you would think i would be happier hiding in an office where i could limit the number of energy-sapping social interactions. just write some contracts, do some legal research and call it a day. during an internship, i did a few trials for petty crimes. it’s nerve-wracking. it can go very well, or very, very badly. and murphy’s law says that the courtroom will be packed on your bad days and empty on your good.

i do know that in a public situation, when you do something right, it’s the best feeling in the world. maybe that’s it, maybe i’m a gambler. i want those intense highs, and for it, i’ll risk some major humiliation. but why am i this way? why, for example, do i keep planning parties at my place when the stress of wondering who will come or if they’ll have fun is so exhausting? why strive for jobs for which i have no natural ability, social events which could go terribly wrong, and guys i feel are completely out of my league? for someone so scared of life, you would think i would stay in my comfort zone.

instead, i want to be a prosecutor. and guess what? the dream is coming true: starting in march, i will be a prosecutor for one of the top ten largest counties in the united states. i read that and i shiver.

i don’t think i could have chosen a job with a more mentally grueling and anxiety-causing interview process. it spanned from September 11th, 2010 to January 13th, 2011: **DISCLAIMER** i’m sure you will all find the rest of this boring, but i want to document my journey for posterity’s sake.

• interview #1, aka “the dead baby in the cooler” test–my mother always says, don’t try to look attractive for an interview, look competent. and so there i was, suited up, hair pulled into a chignon, a single strand of pearls. heart-pounding. you know when you can actually hear the blood pumping in your ears? just like that. i prepared by googling my interviewer and creating a document with every possible interview question i’d ever been asked, and solid answers i could give. i walk into the interview, prepared to earnestly explain to this woman why i’m the right person for this job. what do i get? a hypothetical wherein (do you like that nice legal insert?) a man goes about kidnapping babies, putting them into his cooler, going out onto a lake, and throwing the babies into the water. the cooler is a very standard plastic blue cooler. so, one afternoon, another baby is taken and in the wee hours of the night, an officer sees a man about to get onto a boat holding a blue cooler. can the officer search the cooler? talk about an “oh shit” moment. it felt difficult to breathe and even more difficult to think of a coherent thought. why didn’t i think to study criminal procedure? the interview went from bad to worse as i talked myself into a corner. i left the interview, my confidence crushed. i immediately went home and wrote a sincere and, if i do say so myself, eloquent email to this woman begging her to call my supervisor and get a real understanding of my abilities and passion for the job.

• it worked. callback interview #1, aka “dead baby revisited”–this time i’m really prepared. one week of going over all my old criminal procedure notes from law school and bar exam studying. i am determined to make a better impression. what do i get hit with this time? first, he wanted to know why i felt the need to write the email to my first interviewer (um, duh, because i sucked and i really, really wanted a second chance). two, he was back on that darned dead baby hypo. well, obviously i’d thought about it some and i had a few different ideas of how to get that officer’s itchy little hands into that cooler. i spun off a few of my theories, thinking i was so smart. did the man seem impressed? nope. complete dead pan. instead, he mentioned how they had over 400 applicants for just ten positions, and that i should really have a back up plan. he sympathized with recent law graduates with the economy being as it is, and said it would almost be better to still be in school. ok, that’s all folks, my rejection letter is as good as in the mail.

• ok, maybe not. callback interview #2, aka “the three levels of  hell and meeting the queen”–i imagine the only reason i received a second callback is because the previous attorneys i had worked with wrote me some very good reviews. bless them a hundred times over. new suit, new pearls, new pumps (annoyingly, the right shoe squeaked with each step). interview is at 3 pm. i’m fifteen minutes early. i wait. and wait. and wait some more. it’s almost 4 pm when someone comes and gets me from the lobby. we go to the 4th floor where i’m ushered into another waiting area. another half hour passes while i desperately scan the copy of “Super Lawyers” on the table next to me. at 4:33, a secretary invites me into an imposing conference room with ten seats and no people. i set my purse far enough away from my feet that i won’t trip getting up. i try to pose so that i look professional but can still get up quickly to shake the queen’s hand. i put my hands palms up on my lap so they won’t collect sweat. the minutes tick by. i’m starting to feel nauseous and my palms are sweating anyway. 28 grueling minutes later, she walks in. i remember wondering if she purposely makes her interviewees go through two hours and three levels of waiting hell just to ratchet up their anxiety level by the time she walks into the room. as the head of the entire prosecutor’s office, this is a woman who is on tv with precious little time to waste. and here she is, shaking my hand.  strangely, at the most intense and important of the three interviews, i did my best. i spoke well and made her laugh a few times. we ended up getting off onto a few tangents until she would suddenly check her watch and say, goodness we’re off track but that was so interesting! one of her final questions was also to ask me why i felt the need to write that email to the first interviewer. it surprised me. don’t people do things like that when they are truly passionate about a position? i told her i’m not afraid to put myself out there for something i want. she complimented me and said that i was very intuitive and eloquent. i practically skipped out of there. my “intuitive” self felt like i’d aced the interview. just three days later, i get a call from the hiring coordinator stating that they are offering me a position for the march class. i called my mother right after i got off the phone and screamed something unintelligible into the phone. i even called my dad, who isn’t exactly my best buddy. it was an amazing day, and i’m still floating on that high.

2011, you are shaping up to be my best year yet.

in the present

in high school on slow nights, my best friend and i would drive for hours through the meandering roads of a park. we drove because we had nowhere to be, but even though we drove in the same tired circles, we felt free, exhilarated. we would play the stereo so loudly we could feel it vibrating in our chests. we would talk for hours about boys, college, getting out of this horrible, cliquey town. it may sound ridiculous to you, but on those drives, we felt alive and young and present. it was like living life in color.

i’ve always had this problem living my life versus watching myself go through the motions as if i were the narrator to my own story. there are very few times, like those car rides, where i’ve felt as if what i was feeling was pure.

how to explain?

example: friend tells me about a mutual acquaintance, very close to her, who died at age 27 of a heart attack. my reaction is clinical. my brain, and i almost picture a dry british voice doing this, articulates that i should feel sad because that’s the appropriate response. and so i do ‘sad’. and truly, i am sad. what frustrates me is that i have an emotional middleman—nothing i feel is instant but the result of some sort of consultation. during special events when i’m out on a night where there’s no reason not to enjoy myself and be happy, this voice constantly flits through my head: “remember this moment, try to picture how everyone looks right now, laugh harder, make your face relaxed and happy in case someone is looking”. i’ll be taking care of my drunk friend, and as i’m rubbing her back as she retches into a toilet, that damned voice says to me, “look at what a great person you are”.

i think maybe this might be the root of my self-esteem issues. basically, i have so few seemingly unadulterated emotions that i feel like a fake. i can’t really believe things people think i am—compassionate, sweet, thoughtful—because even though i feel empathy, go out of my way to help or do nice things on a birthday, there are always those few seconds before whatever feeling i’m supposed to be experiencing kicks in, or that Voice takes satisfaction in a good deed. even when i know people like me, i’m left thinking that they couldn’t really because i’m not fully what i portray. they just don’t know that, and i don’t want them to because i desperately need people around to be happy.

why can’t i just BE? not just during those special days scattered throughout my 25 years of life, but every day.

genital herpes = huge threat

hearing from a friend about her friend whose girlfriend cheated on him, contracted genital herpes, and then gave it to him (drama, drama) led me on a steadily more horrifying research trail. forget about the obviously alarming but treatable STDs—apparently one in five people (and another site stated one in four) have genital herpes. that shit doesn’t go away.

reading those stats, my heart thumped hard in my chest.

i never knew it was so prevalent. worse, I didn’t know half of the other alarming traits about herpes which have since wreaked havoc with my hypochondria-addled brain. some fun facts:

• you don’t need to have sex to get herpes. not even oral sex. skin-to-skin contact is enough. kissing is enough. (fuck).
• building on that first point, using condoms may not help you since it may not cover your partner’s entire infected area
• women are four times as likely to get herpes from a male partner than the other way around (can’t find where i read this, but i’m certain i remember it correctly—it’s burned into my brain at this point)
• most people do not even realize they have herpes because they are asymptomatic. and if they don’t know, you definitely don’t know
• even for those who do exhibit symptoms, they don’t have to be having an outbreak to infect you
• symptoms vary person-to-person, and they often resemble other issues—bug bites, ingrown hairs, the flu, UTIs, yeast infections, other STDs
• testing for herpes is not very clear-cut. if you have sores on your genitals, it’s far easier to come to the correct diagnosis by taking a sample and testing it. the problem is that many people never get sores, and herpes breakouts only occur a few times a year for those who do. blood tests can be helpful, but they only test for herpes antibodies created to fight the disease—meaning that if you test too early, those antibodies won’t be present. apparently it can take as long as three months from the date of infection before antibodies are made (scroll near the bottom). finally, there are a lot of false-positives and false-negatives for these tests (and these tests are expensive)

let’s break all that information down to its scary and shitty conclusion: you can be careful, never sleep with strange, heck never even sleep with someone, and still get herpes. in fact, you could have gotten both of your boyfriends tested before sleeping with them (what i did), and they may still have this disease because the tests are not clear-cut and timing is essential. great. i’ve now spent most of the day checking out my girl parts in a hand mirror trying to figure out if that’s razor burn or herpes. unfortunately, i’ve only ever looked at myself one other time so i can’t tell if the landscape is different.

that brings me to three other observations:

one, we can’t just go around having sex anymore. forget sexual needs and safe fuck buddies and the whole bit—with at least 20% of the population infected, having sex with someone who hasn’t been tested (and tested correctly and probably multiple times), is playing russian roulette with your sexual well-being.

and also with your psychological well-being: two, there is a major stigma associated with having genital herpes. i would feel so dirty and unlovable if i had it, which is why a lot of people with the disease fail to tell their sexual partners. and yet, apparently somewhere between 20 and 25% of the population has the disease. these are people we know, people we’re screwing, people getting married and having kids. these people might be you and me. so why is there such a cloud over the disease, and why don’t we know more about it?

which brings me to number three, why is our sex education so crappy? here i am thinking i’m being so safe—limited sex to my two boyfriends, rarely had oral sex and used a condom where i didn’t trust the guy as much, got both my boyfriends to submit to an STD test before i would sleep with them—and it’s not enough. and honestly, most of the people i know haven’t been as careful as i am. and these are educated people! i only know a handful of people who have ever even taken a test. telling us ‘use condoms’ isn’t enough and preaching ‘abstinence only’ is a travesty of public health. worse yet, i have never heard that STD tests themselves are unreliable. without that information, we could be walking around with false confidence in our sexual health and infecting strangers, boyfriends—people we love.

i feel like i should go get tested. i did between boyfriend 1 and boyfriend 2. except that with the expense (probably between $100-200 bucks) and the embarrassment of having to go to an STD testing place, i really, really don’t want to. i wish i was still a student and could just go to the student health center. that’s a lot more private than having to walk into planned parenthood, and a heck of a lot less expensive. i know that doesn’t sound very adult, but you don’t have to be or act like an adult to have sex. that’s the problem.

things i love–public version

My previous few posts are swallowing me in their bleakness. Yes, things are bad right now, but we always seem to take for granted the good things in our lives. So here are a few things I love: (photos were removed for privacy concerns)

My baby puppy, sleeping next to me like a hairy little person

My kitten. Fuzzy baby.

The view from my apartment. My breath still catches every morning when I look out the window.

My Ex. It’s not very helpful to me, but I do love him. We shouldn’t de-value love, even if it didn’t work out, right?

I also love my parents and the rest of my family, but I can’t put pictures of them up here without putting one of myself. I love my friends, especially one particular one I’ve known since 4th grade. It’s probably pretty risky to put my Ex on here, but I’ll leave him up for a few days at least. I’m crying, actually, as I look at him in that picture. If that’s not bittersweet, I don’t know what is. And I know there are many, many other things I love. I need to look at these pictures, think of these people, and maybe they’ll serve as a compass out of this sadness and shame. I’ve always thought that love should make you want to be a better person. It’s not too late for that, I’m only 25. I can be better, and especially with my family loving me and caring about me, and my animals relying on me, I must become better than this.

girls and low self-esteem

Is it normal to get super needy and promiscuous after a break-up? So far I’ve only slept with my two ex-boyfriends, but I seem to hit the lower bases with regularity after each break-up. I don’t want to be this weak, un-wholesome girl. What if I really do lose it one night after drinking and sleep with somebody, not just kiss them or let them touch me? As it is, I can’t handle the guilt the day after I do anything and I’ve already screwed around with two guys in the month since I broke up with my ex. I know it only happens when I drink, but there must be something in me just lurking under the surface if it keeps happening. Not drinking would get rid of the symptom (promiscuity) but not the underlying issue (self-esteem). What’s worse is that with this last guy, he said I mentioned “relationship” to him a few times. I don’t want to date this guy!! Why would that even come up? He’s not my type at all, I think I’m just needy for male attention. So of course I can’t see him again and now it’s just another dirty secret stored away in my brain.

This blog isn’t just supposed to be my personal diary, but I’m trying to be honest about what I’m doing (and doing wrong) in life to get at bigger realities. For example, why are so many girls running around with such low self-esteem? I know that’s the root of my problem, but where did it come from? I know I’m a pretty girl. I know I’m a smart girl. And yet, I don’t really feel like I’m worth it. I don’t understand WHY. There are so many girls just like me out there who, at bottom, feel the same way. Heck, guys joke about finding insecure girls because we’re easy to get into bed. We want so badly to be loved but don’t actually think anyone could love us. And for some reason, that translates into promiscuity even though that’s the last way to get a guy, to get love.

Is this an American phenomenon? I don’t know if European girls are doing better. I also don’t know how to solve this kind of problem because I don’t know where it came from. I’m trying to pin-point where exactly in life I lost my self-worth. Do we all have a particular event in our childhood that killed our ability to love ourselves? Did our daddies not love us enough? Or is it just something chemical, just fucked up brain chemistry that we could never control in the first place?

What happened to this girl? It seems that just as I’m building my confidence, I meet a boy and he brings me back down. Other people break up and they don’t question their worth. Why do I?

How can I fix myself if I don’t know exactly why it’s happening?

Hey, we’re not the plague

Why is it that so many men see women who want to settle down and have a family as something akin to the plague?

I recently broke up with my boyfriend of a year and eight months. We had a lot of problems, not the least of which was that his timeline for our future seemed indeterminate. He had just signed another year’s lease with a roommate, which worried me. I asked him if he felt a need to live by himself for a few years, and if so, how long. He said yes, he probably would want to. So then where did that leave us? He didn’t really have an answer. After we had passed the year mark, I tried to have a talk with him every few months attempting to stress that I’m maybe not like other girls he’s dated, that I already know what I want and that I’m not the type of girl you can date for seven years and then maybe start considering marriage. Yet, he didn’t bother letting me know that his near future did not include anything that serious. If I had let it go, he would have let me continue on in this relationship going nowhere soon. Obviously, things came to a head, and now I am one month single. I’m sure there are girls and guys reading this thinking, why would she pressure him like that. Why? Because I know what I want, I loved him and I could see myself with him, and it seems stupid to play games and waste time.

Anyway, I bring this up only because it sparked a discussion between me and a friend of a friend. I don’t know him that well, but the few times I’ve met him made me think he was an interesting person. He’s 35, single, and very opinionated. When my Facebook status went to “single,” he sent me a message meant to make me laugh, and asked if I was ok. He also asked me what had gone wrong since he had been under the impression that I had met the guy I might be marrying. I gave him a few details, saying something about how I had hoped my ex would “step-up” in the relationship but that he wasn’t doing any such thing. Then I tried to take the focus off me, jokingly asking why he was still single since he was a nice guy with a good job, etc. What I got back annoyed the hell out of me:

so what does it mean to “step up” in a relationship? i think when someone has to “try” in a relationship, the relationship is already dead. trying implies “i don’t want to, but i will” and that only spells doom. too many relationships require trying. too many settle. there are too many cliche’s out there that say relationships are hard and that’s just the way it is. they resign themselves to a life of indifference and apathy instead of finding a quality relationship that matches their values…but then again, most people don’t know their values. Socrates said “know thyself”, and most folk think that is a given, but in reality, knowing yourself is very hard work. to know thyself implies knowing your values, purpose, and standards. all i hear is “i want a nice person with a sense of humor and likes to have fun.” what does that mean? who wouldn’t describe themselves as nice, funny, and fun to be with? in a nutshell, most people don’t think deeply enough about their life or their relationships. ok, enough of my tirade 🙂

as for your test tube baby idea, i think that is a great idea 🙂 i have a deal with two girls that i’d be their donor if they needed it since i have great genes and don’t want to raise kids myself. so if you’re 35+ and in need of sperm, just let me know 🙂

i often wonder if not for kids, would men and women want a relationship or would they be satisfied with sex and friendship? what i do know is that the institution of marriage isn’t keeping up the social changes around us. it was instituted in a completely different world, and life is radically different now. not sure what the answer is, but marriage in its current form doesn’t sound very appealing.

as for the girl situation, I’ve sworn off girls till I’m ~40 because i like younger girls (5-10 years younger) and right now, their either too stupid or too in love with the idea of family/children. women between the ages of 25-35 focus hardcore–meaning on a mission– on finding a guy who will be the practical provider (even at the expense of compatibility). i don’t want that life, so I’ll wait till the girls are out of that stage and are more concerned with compatibility, passion, and connection. connection is more important to me than developing a “future vision” of us. i would rather “evolve” than “plan” as a couple. i also have so much going on in my outside life that i want to finish first before venturing back into a relationship. no sense in trying to fool myself of hurt a girl like i did in the past. now i can handle casual dating or random fling occasionally, but that’s about it. i was very serious about finding a wife/future family in my 20’s, and those goals have changed. now i’m much more certain of who i am (which happens somewhere around age 30), and so i plan on pursuing that with passion and zeal and let the relationship happen when all 3 of the essentials align: 1. passion, 2. compatibility (values), and 3. timing (the most overlooked and forced element of the 3). i’m done rambling. told you i’ll say whatever i feel 🙂

ps, congrats on passing the Bar!

talk to you soon, joe

That message made me get up and pace. I walked back and forth for a while half-amazed that this guy, knowing I’m 25, would have the balls to essentially say I’m either stupid or on this apparently distasteful “mission” to find a man who can provide for me and give me babies. My reply:

I think I agree with some, but not all, of your points.

As to the test-tube baby idea, I think it’s a last resort. I know what I want out of life, and kids are included. But at the same time, a child without two parents is not ideal. I don’t want my kid(s) to feel ripped off or resent me, and I also want to make sure I’m home enough to truly be a part of their life. As the only breadwinner, that would be a lot harder going solo. It’s something I joke about doing now, but at the point where I would actually have to consider doing it, I am going to think long and hard beforehand. It’s also not pleasant to go through the process. It’s painful, you’re on hormones, and there are a lot of adverse side effects. It’s not easy on the woman, and it’s expensive to boot.

Relationships: I believe relationships do take work. Obviously it shouldn’t be work in the beginning during the “honeymoon” period, but maybe a year later when things aren’t so new and sparkly. There are so many things in life that we don’t want to do, but because we love people or because we know it will better us, we do them. Relationships are no different. However, at the point that either one or both people in the relationship lose their desire to try to make things work, the relationship is dead. That’s what I was trying to figure out with my ex. If he was willing to try harder to show that he appreciated me, then I would have stayed. If not, I didn’t want to be there. Telling me he fell out of love with me two weeks after I said I needed more from him essentially showed that he did a cost-benefit analysis of the situation, and decided the amount of work he would have to put in didn’t jive with what he felt he was getting. That sucks, but that’s life.

In general, you seem to have a negative attitude toward relationships and commitment. While neither of my relationships has worked out, I think it can work with the right person. I just don’t think too many people are lucky enough to find the right person. I’m not talking about a soul mate; that idea is ridiculous to me. I’m talking about a lot of what you mentioned: someone with the same value system and the right timing. I do believe that regardless of children, men and women would want a relationship. I am not planning on having children until I’m at least 30, but I’m still interested in having a relationship, someone I can care for and vice versa, someone I know is “mine” and I theirs. It’s a good feeling when you come home to someone. I can’t imagine that guys feel so differently. In fact, I think the reason my recent relationship continued so long is because Dan liked the feeling of being IN a relationship, but I just wasn’t the right girl.

You say that marriage in its current form isn’t working in today’s world. I don’t believe there’s anything wrong with marriage, except that it does not include homosexuals. That, however, is a completely different discussion. I don’t think it’s marriage that’s the issue—it’s people and today’s culture. Especially in the U.S., we want everything and we expect to have everything. We think we’re entitled to having a fantastic career while still being able to balance kids and a dog. We expect to marry someone with a hundred great qualities and with whom we can have passionate, wild sex. We expect that that passion is never going to wane, and when it does, we say that must not be the right person for us. I love sex, but I think love is a lot deeper; it’s affection and caring at a level where we want and can be less selfish. I think nowadays, with sex constantly thrown at us, we’re giving more attention to the physical and overlooking the quieter side of love until it’s too late. Today, we have one big fight, and say that if this was “right,” it wouldn’t be so hard to be together. I’m not saying we should settle, I just think we’re asking for too much too soon. I’m also not saying that everyone should get married. The idea of marriage obviously does not appeal to you, and that’s perfectly fine. I just don’t think that because it doesn’t work for you, that it is void of value for everyone.

As to women between the ages of 25 and 35—I definitely take offense to your categorization of us all being too stupid or too in love with the idea of family/children. Being naïve because we haven’t been in the world as long as you is not the same as stupidity. Knowing that you want a family and children is not a bad thing; on the contrary, at least those girls know what they want out of life. Being proactive in the small window of fertility we have left is also not something to scoff at. I have an uncommon understanding of the world of infertility because of my mother’s work, and it’s not pretty. If there’s one thing that puts an incredible amount of pressure on a marriage, going through the IVF process is it. Nor do I think all women my age are looking for “providers”. I’m certainly not because I can sure as hell provide for myself just like plenty of other women out there. I’m looking for a partner and a companion, not a checkbook. Nor am I stupid enough to think I’m super original or independent; there are plenty of other women just like me looking for the same things. Maybe you have not encountered a broad enough spectrum of women. I imagine once you start working, it’s harder to meet a diverse crowd. Regardless, my point is that you seem to think there is something wrong with a girl my age and older thinking about having a family and trying to find the guy to do it with. I don’t see why it’s a bad thing. Family is very important to many people, and the idea of starting one of your own is in no way strange or repugnant. It’s fine if that’s not your vision, but you are, maybe unconsciously, denigrating a perfectly valid life goal. Worse yet, you seem to feel superior because you are swearing off that goal.

On a less touchy topic, thanks for the congrats on my Bar results. It feels amazing to be a real attorney. I’m having my signing-in ceremony on Thursday and for the first time I’m actually excited about doing something solemn and traditional. I really feel like it’s a privilege to practice law and I’m excited about starting my career.

~Bittrsweet

The reason I’m posting these messages is because I feel like men sometimes shame women into feeling bad about wanting to find our life companion and possibly having kids in a few years. I want women to stop and question that shame. Why is it such a bad thing? Why do we have to talk to our girlfriends and our mothers and a whole crowd of people about when the “best time” would be to bring up the future with our significant other? Why are “future” and “marriage” such bad words? Why do guys nowadays in their mid- to late twenties start back-pedaling so fast when you try to discuss those subjects? They love that you cook them dinner, listen to how their day went, support them when they’re worried about something, give them your body—and yet as soon as you want to give them all of this and more permanently, they freak out.

Why guys are so scared—that’s really a different discussion. Mostly, this guy’s message just made me really sit down and think about how women now are actually made to feel bad about wanting what humans have wanted since the beginning–stability and family. Especially career women. It’s like we’re betraying our independent female selves if we say, hey, I do want to get married. I am ready to settle down, if I could find the right person. I would like to have kids, and while I’m young enough to do it without third persons poking at my ovaries.

Screw that. I know what I want and no guy is going to make me feel bad about that or about asking him where he sees things going ever again. My time is precious, so why should I waste it pretending to be casual about a subject that is not at all casual to my heart? And guys, stop looking at us like we’re the devil. If you’re not ready, tell us early. But don’t you dare look down on these desires as somehow weak or bad and then complain to your friends that we’re on a “mission” and really killing the mood.

On a positive tangent, yes I am now a certified attorney! 🙂 More on that later.

meet the duggars…

is this the great american family or the great american nightmare?

17 children with another one on the way. 17.

am i wrong for feeling physically sick when i watched this show on TLC? am i wrong for searching their faces for some hidden sadness?

8 children under the age of ten, six of which are high-energy boys. one very-pregnant mother who says she’s always sick the first 3 months. homeschooling. a church inside their house. vacations where they all dress the same for identification purposes. names that all start with ‘J’. 8 loads of laundry a day. one room for girls, and one for boys (think bunk-beds). the oldest child already married at age 20. $1500-2000 a month for groceries. four older daughters, always with a baby balanced on a hip. anti-gay beliefs. an aging mother whose health risks increase with every pregnancy.

i’m not trying to find something wrong because i’m one of those unhappy people who begrudges others of their happiness. i’m not implying that they beat or sexually abuse their children, that dad must be a controlling patriarch while mom’s just a baby-machine. i’m not saying any of that. in fact, i imagine they must be under a microscope just because of the specter of abuse they so obviously raise to neighbors and mercenary journalists. if mommy and daddy were into corporal punishment, the media would have run with it. in truth, from the tv show at least, the parents look like they’re still in love, the children look rosy and healthy, and financially things are good (although I’m not sure if their finances have been substantially supplemented by different television appearances, etc).

i’m giving them the benefit of the doubt: even if the parents are veritable saints on earth, EVEN if they somehow stay sane when six little boys run around screaming, two babies wail, it’s time load up the trough for dinner, and mother dearest has her time of the month (although admittedly rare since the woman has been pregnant sixteen times), EVEN if they really are the good, sweet people portrayed, can you really tell me that these kids don’t suffer from some form of neglect, albeit inadvertant?

can you tell me that each child gets quality time with each parent? that none of the children ever feel overlooked and overshadowed? that somehow the middle-child syndrome has managed to skip a family of 19? that as well-meaning and affectionate as the parents may be, they haven’t blanked on one of their kid’s names with the child right there looking up at them? that by kid ten, mom gave up on taking ten thousand baby pictures and making an album? children are so diverse. some are quiet, some won’t be quiet; yet common sense tells us that the squeaky wheel gets the grease. it’s just natural. and with this many squeaky wheels, my heart goes out to the quiet ones, the later ones, the not-as-cute ones.

can you tell me that some mental or developmental problem hasn’t been missed when you have 17 children telling you about their day and asking for help with homework? what if one of the kids is ADHD? dyslexic? gay?

can you tell me that living in smalltown arkansas coupled with being homeschooled doesn’t create a sense of isolation? yes, these children are never alone; they have each other, every day, hell every minute so it seems. but isolation has a tendency to magnify–beliefs, stress, conformity (and therefore resistance to the individual), and probably much more that a psychologist or sociologist would be more qualified to identify.

can you tell me that these children don’t separate naturally into older and younger, girls and boys? even in smaller families, the oldest take some responsibility for the youngest. with the duggars, the parents must be stretched so thin that the oldest kids shoulder a fair amout of the parental burden. and with all the household activities (ie, where the duggars actually BUILT their house), directing so many children in different tasks may innocently break into the “male” and “female” zones of responsibility. is this fair? is this conducive to a 21st century ideal of man- and womanhood? to female independence? are the girls unconsciously setting their standards lower, beautician rather than attorney? (and i mean in terms of unwittingly shortchanging their educational ability or position in life, not that a beautician or other career that doesn’t require a graduate degree is somehow deficient). will all the children feel pressured to marry and “let god determine” the number of children they have?

can the parents pay for a college education for those of their children who want it?

and morally, is this reponsible? what if they couldn’t have afforded as many children as a woman is biologically capable of supplying? do they judge others, and would they judge their own children, for constraining family growth for financial or other reasons? and with all the needy, abandoned children already present in the world, isn’t this somewhat selfish? if every child is to be cherished, why not cherish the ones who through no choice of their own are in the world yet without anyone to love them. what about overpopulation? conservation of energy (they have four washer and dryers, two of every appliance, god knows how much garbage, fuel usage for their huge trailer…)? what if mom’s eggs starting getting moldy but she still continues producing possibly genetically-flawed babies? or, what if mommy dies from some pregnancy or delivery-related problem and leaves dad with 18 or 19 kids?

i don’t know, i just feel sad watching this show. there are so many crazy important developmental milestones in children’s lives. i hate thinking that they’ll be overlooked or under-appreciated just because attention can only be divided so many ways.

here are a few other blogs/articles i found interesting, and who show the same amount of horrified preoccupation…

• my name is mommy
• untitled life
  
• babble
• television without pity
• duggar forum

lost

he hasn’t answered yet. now i feel completely alone and deserving it.

to my very best friend,

i’m writing you an email because i invariably stumble over my words when calling people, especially about important things. i actually wrote a bullet-list of things i wanted to say and thought i’d call you tonight, but i know i’ll chicken out since it might come out wrong. i don’t think you should move to —- for me. i’ve thought about this a LOT the last few days and nights.

i’ve led you on. i swear i didn’t mean to, and maybe after you read this you’ll understand. i think you are one of the most intelligent, quirky, funny, caring, loyal, unique, patient, understanding, deep people i’ve ever met. i respect you, i admire you, i learn from you, and i hope that i’m even half as good to you as you are to me, though i greatly doubt it. sometimes the things you say, the thoughts you have, make me feel like we share part of a brain. i’ve never really felt understood or accepted by people, but you “get me” and somehow manage to overlook all the crazy, out-of-control things i do. i’ve never felt this comfortable, safe, adored, intelligent, funny, or beautiful with another person and it made me want to see what being close to you would be like. i don’t know if i can make you understand, but it feels so amazing to be held by someone you know is worthwhile and good. you’re not some dense, carbon-copy of the twenty-something american male. you like me for more than just my looks. you didn’t run at the first sign of my instability and neediness. i let everything good and bad hang out and you’re still there for me. guys just aren’t like that. it’s an amazing feeling to know you would want to be with me. so, i have to be honest before i screw things up with you even more than i imagine i have since that fateful night at the heaven and hell party (that was the first time, right?). i’ve seen the way you look at me this past week, and i know that look. it’s the look i gave to drew. it’s the look i want to give you, but for all the aggravatingly inexplicable, illogical, and stupid reasons that some people have chemistry and others don’t, i can’t.

i get this…ominous…feeling that i’m going to regret this. after all, how many girls have someone like you willing to uproot himself to a completely different city, far from friends and family, to give a an untried relationship a shot? if i thought that you actually liked and wanted to come to —-, and by implication, —- law, maybe it would be different. but, i don’t think you have any great passion for this city, plus you’ve come twice now and haven’t expressed an interest in seeing the law school or campus. i think you like NYC, DC, pittsburgh, or even cleveland far more.

i don’t know if maybe things might change in the future. you are my best friend, and maybe our timing is just off right now. i really don’t know. i do know that i’m not going to let you chance the possibility of our working out. i think you just need to focus on you. you’re a little lost right now, but you’re an ambitious person and i think you’d be happiest if you were doing something you felt was more worthwhile and which moved you toward that goal you have of supporting your family. although i do think you need to take a lot of that burden off your shoulders. it’s a different time and age, you aren’t and don’t have to be your grandfather.

one of the things i worry most about you is that you give too much for too little. this is why i didn’t appreciate frances, and why i don’t pass the test either. it’s cynical, but i think a lot of the time, this boy/girl stuff boils down to power. make sure you’re with someone who will spoil and like you more than you do them. if possible, try to be an asshole : )

i know i tend to overreact sometimes, so if you don’t actually feel as strongly toward me as this rambling email makes it sound, that’s probably for the best and please feel free to laugh at me. i just ask that you don’t get so upset or uncomfortable that we suddenly don’t talk. i need you. i shouldn’t have risked changing things.

if this gets any longer, i’m going to be accused of that verbosity obama can’t seem to get away from. definitely let me know if something i wrote or did bugs you. i don’t think we should just sweep this under a rug and if you’re hurt, i’d rather you talk it (yell it?) out with me. don’t drink a lot after reading this, don’t read this one hundred times like i would, feel free to curse me, and at some point in the near future, please talk to me.

~bittrsweet

sex

sex is a strange thing. it reminds you that you are, at bottom, an animal. as a woman, you press yourself into your man, rub your face between his legs and breathe in that slightly musty scent that makes you turn wet down there. you submit when he puts you on your back and pins your arms down with one hand, the other pulling your chin up so that you’re forced to look straight into his eyes as he drives deep inside you. you moan, loving it, loving the almost painful feeling of him grinding down so deep. loving the idea that you’re going to feel this tomorrow, this feeling of your body being put to use. it’s all nails and sweat and mewling his name, the only thought consuming your being the idea of him coming deep inside you. you want it, that mark, his man scent on you, in you. you want to be his territory. when he leaves, you don’t want to shower. you smell of him, the sheets smell of him, and you revel in it.

the problem is, he left.