Time to Move On

It is 2010.

I have been attempting to say hello again for a year now and I have learned a lot about myself through this virtual conversation.  I have learned that I am as emotional and overactive as I ever was, I have learned that I rarely write unless I am fired up about something or other, and I have learned that for the most part, I am in charge of my own attitude and what I do with it significantly impacts my life.  I don’t want to stop blogging precisely because of what I have learned from this experience.  However, I don’t think this blog has a role in my life any longer.  This blog is filled with mostly negative rantings about the people and things that have fired me up oer the past year.  I am ready to move on.

Goodbye!

Return of Sanity – A Month in Review

Technically, it is our one month anniversary today.  Yes, EE and I have been seeing each other for a month; one very long, crazy, strange month.  We decided to make it a relationship on our first date (seriously).  The amount of time we spend together seems to be growing exponentially.  The Cheat is completely freaking out and to be honest, so am I a little bit.  I think I am scared.  Scared of where this is going and why it is going there so fast.  Scared that I might make a wrong turn, after all my history of making relationship decisions hasn’t been too stellar.  Scared of myself! 

To follow-up on my last post, I know that things will never work with TLC, despite his gorgeous appearance, every relationship must have trust and TLC and I do not trust each other.  As for the Cheat, one of my coworkers printed out two Eleanor Roosevelt quotes for me and we posted them right here by my computer.  The first is:

     “If someone betrays you once, it’s their fault; if they betray you twice, it’s your fault.”

The second is:

     “No on can make you feel inferior without your consent.”

These quotes make so much ense in my relationship with the Cheat.  Maybe it is time I stop blaming him for everything are realize I allowed it to get to this point.  I still sit here today, more than a year after we broke up, typing about him on my blog.  I am the one who needs to snap out of it and start living my life for me and stop playing victim to the Cheat’s actions.  He cannot hurt me any more unless I let him.  I need to stop letting him in my life.

As for EE, here’s the deal, he is an amazing guy!  This is a guy who encouraged me to tell him about all of the skeletons in my closet and he listened with non-judgmental interest.  He wants to be part of my life.  Like any relationship, I’m sure the EE and I will run into our share of bumps along the way, it is inevitable.  But for now, EE is everything I have always said I want in a relationship partner:  he is sincere, he is educated, he is professional, he is dedicated, he has a good work ethic but also understands the balance between work and play, and he cares about me!

There is no reason I shouldn’t be thrilled and walking on about a thousand feet of air right now.  Yet, I cannot seem to shake this uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.  Problem is, I am not sure where the icky feeling originates but am beginning to suspect I am the one creating it.  Somehow, I need to turn my brain off in this situation and allow myself to just go with the flow.  Stop worrying what will happen tomorrow and just live out today.  Nothing catastrophic has happened over the past month so why do I think this month will be any different?  So for now, my pledge for this second month is to stay grounded, to stop over thinking everything, and to live each day for what it is.

So much to say…

I have not blogged in what seems like an eternity!  I think at least an entire month has passed without a post.  It would be easy to blame my lack of blogging on the fact that I am nervous to blog from work since they are cracking down on our internet usage, or on the fact that I have been so slammed at work I have hardly any spare time, or even the fact that I have been spending so much of my free time at home taking the new pooch for walks. However, the truth is that  I have so much to say, so many thoughts swirling around in my head, when I sit down to type, I don’t know where to start.  But, getting ack to the true spirit of this blog, I feel now is the time for me to put my fingers to the keyboard and attempt to get a few things straight.

The Pooch:  I was the pooch’s foster parent  fr over a mont while he recovered from surgery.  This past Saturday, it all became official when I adopted him.  Now I am looking for a decent doghouse to put on my deck so he can get som fresh air.  Despite the fact that I am allergic to him (as I am to all dogs), I do enjoy having him around.  He is like a 90 lb. security blanket.  I actually find the whole thing quite amusing.

EE:  In early october EE asked me to go to a family party with him.  In that one evening I went from wondering whether it was a date or just a “friend” thing to calling him my boyfriend.  Maybe I agreed to the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing after having a little too much to drink and maybe I was a little lost in the moment but it seemed so right.  After all, here was finally a guy who is well-educated, has a good career, and cares about the people in his life, especially his family.  He and I went to undergrad together and although I knew of him, I did not know him.  We didn’t hang out or even talk during college, we met at the wedding I went to last February with K.  In fact EE and K are good friends and he actually asked K if it was okay to ask me out, I really appreciated that he behaved so respectfully.  Obviously K agreed because EE did ask me out.  It has been almost a month since this relationship started and while there have been a few bumps, all in all it is going very well.  Yet, despite the apparent perfection, there is something in my that questions it all, and I am not entirely sure why.  Is it just nerves or is it me being scarred and damaged and afraid to commit again for fear of being hurt?  I just don’t know!

The Others:  Not surprisingly, when the Cheat found out about EE, he was upset.  First he was angry and said the most hurtful things to me.  But since then, he has been sad and remorseful.  If you can imagine, in the past two weeks he has said everything I ever wanted to hear him say, but it is about two years too late!  This is very confusing and frustrating for me.  As a result, I do my best to avoid him, I really think it is the only way I am ever going to be able to move on.  Another complicating factor is TLC.  As has been made clear in past posts, TLC is a guy I met through an online dating site and while there is definitely an attraction between us, there are also some trust issues we have never resolved.  Most of the time, I am pretty sure it is a relationship best left behind, I doubt it would ever work out.   We dated off and on last spring and he continues to text me, asking me to go out on the weekends or to join him for lunch.  This is also frustrating and confusing because, physically, I am so attracted to TLC – he is my dream guy.  But isn’t the physical superficial?  It seems to me so wrong that I seem to be weighing the pros and cons of EE and TLC in terms of EE’s seeming non-superficial perfection (i.e. non physical) compared to TLC’s superficial perfection (i.e. physical).  Let me make it simple, EE is perfectly caring, thoughtful and smart while TLC is hot and smart.  Is there something wrong with me that I would even allow my mind to wander down this road?!  I think so, it is really beginning to upset me, yet I cannot seem to turn it off! 

With that, I am going to end this post.  I know, very anti-climatic, but I think I just needed to put it all in writing.  Now maybe I can take a step back and get a grip; emotionally, mentally, and realistically I need to check myself!

The end of come-uppings

As you may recall, I started posting about my co-worker Richard under the category come-uppings.  There will be no more posts under come-uppings because Richard is no longer my co-worker.  The news came Friday afternoon, after a crazy day in which the BOSS had Richard and I simultaneously jumping through artificial deadline hoops.  Richard is here today, cleaning out his office.  Honestly, it looks like he is moving out of an apartment… I am not entirely sure how a person cold manage to cram so much stuff in that office.  Down are coming the giant swords he had  hanging on his walls, down are coming the newspaper clippings about himself he tacked to his walls, out are the months worth of clothes he had stored in the basement. 

It is so much quieter here.  I can hear myself think.  I don’t have to listen to his cell phone ringing non-stop, I don’t have to listen to the conversations he’s having with the girlfriend du jour, and I don’t have to listen to whatever random music he has decided to play loudly as if he is the only person working in this space.  It is no secret in this space that I dislike Richard and truly have nothing favorable to say about him.  However, I have to admit I feel bad for him.  In these difficult economic times, I would find it difficult not to feel bad for anyone who loses their job.  So, despite my prior posts, I think it is only right to say that I wish Richard the best of luck… may he realize that his lies only hurt him (and his family), may he realize there is more to life than sex, may he realize that he need not fear and therefore objectify authoritative or crazy women, may he eliminate the unnecessary drama from his life, may he learn to act like a professional in his late thirties, and may he find success.

I think he found me too.

Since last Thursday I have been telling people that I found him!  He was lost, he needed help, and I rescued him.  Maybe all of that is partially true, but if you want to know the honest truth, I think he found me too!

It was Thursday morning at about 8:30 am.  I took the day off because my mom was in town visiting.  The parking lot was pretty empty with the exception of the cluster of cars, like myself, waiting to go into weight watchers and weigh in for the week.  Oddly, there was a bid dog, just walking around, weaving in and out of the parked cars.  I wondered, who does that dog belong to?  Just then, he walked over to my car and stood outside my door.  Now I could see, his eyes were covered with mucus, he was filthy and covered in fleas, his collar was hanging off him I presume because he was starving and was very thin.  I got out and managed to convince him to let me look at his tag.  I called the number on the tag and got animal control.  They gave me the owners phone number (disconnected) and the dog’s name.  I called him by his name and he got so happy.  He sat when I told him to sit and he came when I told him to do that too.  I knew I couldn’t leave him there, especially when animal control told me their notes indicated he had been reported as wandering around that parking lot for over a month.  While I tried to figure out what to do, I sent my mom into the nearby grocery store for some dog food and a leash.  I called around and found a no-kill shelter on the eastside that said they might be able to take him in even though I found him in an area covered by a different shelter.  The problem was, there was no way I was going to fit this huge, dirty, flea infested dog in my car.  Twenty minutes later, my mom and I walked the dog a block to the nearby u-haul center where we rented a cargo van.  By noon, we were at the shelter and I was begging admissions to take him in.  Finally, to my relief, they agreed and I was relieved; he would finally get the care he needed and would find a good home — I hope!

My mom and I returned the u-haul and headed off to have our hair done.  After that, my mom joined me at my regular Tuesday/Thursday workout group.  But, I wasn’t thinking about my cute hairdo or burning calories, my mind was fixated on the dog who laid his large head in my lap as I sat on the bench waiting outside the shelter admissions.  By the next day I had already called to check on him and find out what the adoption procedure would be.  I’ve called every day since.  At first he was on a seventy-two hour hold in case his owners came to get him.  In the meantime he was immunized and checked out by a shelter vet.  For the most part, he has a clean bill of health.  However, he is quite old and does need eye surgery.  A note has been placed in his file to contact me as soon as he is fit for adoption… I get the first right of refusal on adopting the dog.  

I spend the weekend convincing my very spoiled cat that we need to be caring girls and take in this poor doggy who needs a home and love.  I told her she can help me take care of him and that he will look out for her (after all, in the short time I was with him, he showed himself to be a very loyal dog).  I suspect since i have now been going around referring to him as “my doggy” I will not be refusing the option to adopt him when it comes up.  I will take him for walks and buy him a big soft bed.  I will give him the love he so deserves after surviving such an ordeal.

I use to always think I was a hopeless romantic.  I had faith that I would find the person I was meant to be with and we would “live happily ever after”.  Over the past few years, skepticism has taken over.  I’ve begin to think my romanticism is lost and gone forever.  However strange it may seem, I think this dog has shown me that my romanticism is still there.  There are not too many things I believe in, but I do believe I found this dog for a reason and that he found me for a reason too!

Statistically, I find it interesting.

I am not a blogger who keeps track of my daily stats, hoping my blog is viewed by thousands of interested readers.  Truthfully, I started the blog for primarily personal reasons, and if my stories happen to amuse, educate, interest or otherwise catch the attention of someone then so be it. 

Today though, my little status chart jumped out at me!  Amazingly, my blog has already had ten views today (no I am not kidding about this stat).  This is unprecedented for my blog so early in the day.  Interested, I started clicking around and discovered the top search drawing people to my blog was the phrase: “law school ruined my life”.  At first I wondered if there were other attorneys out there like myself, wondering if they chose the right career, browsing the blogging universe to find similarly situated individuals.  Then another thought crossed my mind, I suspect all the new law students are hitting their third or fourth week of the semester… Socratic Method is in full effect, the kid gloves are off!   

So, if you are a frustrated and desperate law student searching blogs for people who hated law school because you hate law school too, I have some advice for you – take it or leave it.  Right now you have a choice to make, jump in the deep end and swim with all you’ve got or get out now!  Law school is a long and expensive road.  If you are going to do this, you have to be totally committed!  When you graduate, you will find a difficult job market for young attorneys, especially for those lacking focus.  Don’t waste your time and money if you are going to law school because you didn’t have a better idea.  Instead, take some time off, get some life experience and develop a better idea, one that will lead to a career leaving you fulfilled and happy.  If, on the other hand, what you truly want and desire is to be an attorney, you need to dig in, put your big boy/girl panties on, and conquer law school.  If you are going to be an attorney, perseverance and determination is a skill you will need to develop and master.

Good luck!

Dementia

To those of you who read this blog for the pure entertainment value of reading about my lackluster love live and my mis-steppings along the way, I apologize for the bleakness of this post.

It has been nearly a decade since my grandmother last recognized my face.  At first, it was barely detectible.  “Emily, I mean Tia” she’d say in a somewhat flustered tone.  Then she started misplacing things.  Before long she’d go to gatherings and events and pretend to know everybody for fear that she’d forget someone she should know and would be detected.  As the years passed, so did her memory, ever so painfully.  By the time I started college, my aunt had forced my grandmother to move in with her.  Just a few years later our family had to make the difficult decision to move her into a full time care facility for patients suffering from dementia.  By that time, she no longer had control of her bodily functions.  She did not feed herself, she did not dress herself, and she had become a merely a shadow of the woman we knew as mother, grandmother and teacher. 

I will never forget the first time I went to visit her in her new care home.  I walked into the room and she looked up at me.  You could see a twinkle appear in her eye as if to say “I know you, you belong to me, and I am comfortable around you.”  However, when she opened her mouth and began to speak, all I heard was incoherent babbling.  At that point in time, she still had good days and bad days.  My mom would call me on the good days and tell me about how grandma was telling her stories about the boys (presumably my cousins or her brothers – it was hard to tell).  But as the months passed, those good days became fewer and far between and now they do not exist.  The last even partially good day I can remember was three Christmases ago.  We brought my grandmother over to our house for dinner.  There she sat, in her wheelchair wrapped in a warm blanket; out of nowhere she began to clearly hum the tunes of familiar Christmas carols.  Her humming was perfectly in tune and she seemed so much at peace.  How, I wondered, did she remember those tunes so perfectly when she couldn’t remember her family members sitting right next to her?

Ever since then, every time I go home for a visit, my mom and I go to visit grandma.  No more twinkle in her eyes, no more stories about the boys, and no more humming tunes.  I fear, my family has lost her for good.  The is so little we know or understand about dementia or Alzheimer’s.  Many doctors have indicated that her symptoms appear consistent with Alzheimer’s but we will not know until an autopsy is done. 

My grandmother was the youngest of nine children.  My grandmother was a teacher.  Growing up, I remember her vigilantly working crossword puzzles or playing cards.  I would ask her why she enjoyed those things so much and she told me a story about a convent of nuns who did things like crossword puzzles to keep their brains active.  She was doing the same thing.  Before long I understood why she was so interested in that study.  It was because she had watched as her father and more than half of her eight elder siblings suffered and eventually passed away with severe dementia.  She did everything in her power to prevent what she feared was inevitable.  Something that both my aunt and my mother fear will be an inevitable fate for them as well. 

Dementia is crushing.  There is nothing more sad and lonely than being in a room with someone you love so deeply only to feel as though you are galaxies apart.  As far as I know, there is no known cure and treatment is palliative at best.  We, like so many other families in the world, go on living, trying our hardest to hear through the babbling and hold on to the happy memories we still have.

This weekend I am waling in the Alzheimer’s walk, a tradition I hope to continue every year.  Please keep in your thoughts and prayers, the individuals who suffer from severe dementia and the families who love them.  If it is in your heart, donate to, or join in on a memory walk.  Information can be found at:  http://www.alz.org/memorywalk/overview.asp

Cherish every day that you have words to speak, visions to see, noise to hear and memories to relive.

What can I say?

You know, I have this pattern/habit of taking two steps forward and one step backwards.  It happens with my weight loss all the time!  Lose three pounds, gain one back, lose five pounds, gain two back, lose twenty pounds, gain them all back.  Sadly, I think this pattern/habit is oozing its way into other aspects of my life as well.

Tonight I had plans with the Diva.  She was going to come to my house.  We were going to drink wine and she was going to fill me in on all the drama in her life.  At about 7:00 pm she sent me a message that she wouldn’t be able to make it.  Not ten minutes later, there was a knock at my door.  It was the Cheat, asking me if he could please, for the last time, watch my TV as there is a game he really wants to see and his cable does not get installed till Wednesday.  Finding myself without any plans but not intending to watch TV, I said “okay”.  So, maybe letting the Cheat through my door is more than a step backwards, it is a serious lapse in judgment which I am sure to regret for at least a few days I suspect.

My temporary insanity does not stop there…  Not only is the Cheat in the other room mooching off my cable TV, I am in my room chatting with my latest match on an internet dating site.  Yes, you read correctly, I foolishly decided to sign up for another three month stint of “meet a perfect stranger online”.  I distinctly remember telling myself that I could not meet someone online, that I would never be able to trust a perfect stranger that I’ve only met because some super computer decided we answered questions compatibly.  It is absolutely ridiculous, but I am doing it anyway.

The bottom line is that while I do have a slightly tidier condo, this has been a completely non-productive Saturday.  At least I have two more days to correct my backwards movements before I am forced to face another week of work!

My un-pity-party!

Tonight I am throwing myself a party and it is the opposite of a pity party and I have invited just one, very good (or should I say, delicious) friend, Petite Sirah.  I feel like I deserve a party, I won a trial today!  Okay, I didn’t win outright, the jury returned a split verdict in which they found against my client on one issue and found for my client on the other issue.  Whether it constitutes tooting my own horn or not, I am pleased with this result for two reasons: (1) I won on the more important issue and (2) the facts did not lead to an easy victory. 

I could be doing something more entertaining tonight… TLC asked me out to dinner and the Seahawks are having their final home pre-season game (I have season tickets).  But it has been a long week, early mornings, late nights, and abundant adrenaline rushes.  On top of it all my condo is trashed; not dirty, but messy with makeup containers covering the bathroom counter, clean dishes piled up waiting to be put away, clean clothing waiting for folding, and stilettos and suits strewn here and there and everywhere.  If anything, I don’t need a date or a loud crowd, I need time to fix my mess of a condo and just relax.

I have discovered the Lifetime channel is running past episodes of Grey’s Anatomy and this recently uncorked bottle of 2006 Sonoma County Petite Sirah is the perfect blend of sweet and spicy with body and depth, for relaxing and celebrating a job well done.

Goldilock’s Complex

Here I sit in my late 20s: successful, driven, and for the most part have my life in order.  So, like many successful, driven, and organized ladies, I’ve been trying to figure out why (1) I am single and (2) I cannot seem to find anyone I want to date, let alone have a serious relationship with.    It seems so common in today’s society to hear people say, “I have commitment issues” or “I have trust issues”.  So, for some time now I have been trying to figure out what my “issue” is.  What I have concluded is that I don’t have an “issue” per se; I have a complex… a Goldilocks Complex.

To refresh your memory, here is how the story goes:

Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Goldilocks.  She went for a walk in the forest and eventually came upon a house that belonged to three bears.  She knocked.  When no one answered, she walked right in. 

At the kitchen table she found three bowls of porridge.  She was hungry and tasted the porridge from the first bowl:  “This porridge is too hot!” she exclaimed.  She tasted the porridge from the second bowl:  “This porridge is too cold,” she said.  So, she tasted the last bowl of porridge:”Ahhh, this porridge is just right,” She ate it all up.

After she’d eaten the three bears’ breakfasts she decided to rest.  In the living room she saw three chairs.  Goldilocks sat in the first chair:  ”This chair is too big!” she exclaimed.  Then she sat in the second chair: “This chair is too big, too!”  she said.  She sat in the last and smallest chair:  “Ahhh, this chair is just right,” she sighed.  But just as she settled down into the chair to rest, it broke.  That made Goldilocks sad!

By this time, Goldilocks was very tired, so she went upstairs to the bedroom.  She laid down in the first bed, but it was too hard. She laid in the second bed, but it was too soft. Finally she laid down in the third bed.  It was just right and she fell asleep.

As she was sleeping, the three bears came home. ”Someone’s been eating my porridge,” growled the Papa bear.  “Someone’s been eating my porridge,” said the Mama bear.  “Someone’s been eating my porridge and they ate it all up!” cried the Baby bear.  “Someone’s been sitting in my chair,” growled the Papa bear.  “Someone’s been sitting in my chair,” said the Mama bear.  “Someone’s been sitting in my chair and they’ve broken it all to pieces,” cried the Baby bear.

They decided to look around some more and when they got upstairs to the bedroom, Papa bear growled, “Someone’s been sleeping in my bed.”  ”Someone’s been sleeping in my bed, too” said the Mama bear.  “Someone’s been sleeping in my bed and she’s still there!” exclaimed Baby bear.

Just then, Goldilocks woke up and saw the three bears.  She screamed, jumped up and ran out of the room.  Goldilocks ran down the stairs, opened the door, and ran away into the forest.  And she never returned to the home of the three bears.

The Goldilocks Complex:

I see myself as a young lady who has been on a long journey, something like walking through the forest of life.  My journey has involved moving away from my friends and family, going to school, graduating, and learning to be a responsible adult. Along the way I’ve developed and lost relationships over the years.  I know that my life journey is only partially over but after having come this far, right now all I am looking for, is a safe place to take up residence and live a happy and fulfilled life.  Preferably, I’d rather not be alone.  Despite all of the seemingly wonderful options around me, I keep getting burned, things collapse beneath me, and I just cannot find the right fit.   The Goldilocks Complex describes my inability to find the right comfort level.  I’m not just picky; it is more complicated than that.  The reality is that I am not getting any younger; every year I live is another year of life experience under my belt.  When you are young it is so easy to eat the hot food, sit on the soft chair, and sleep on the hard bed.  Your body is resilient and you bounce back.  But age and experience have taught me that when I constantly give up my own comfort, all I get in return is a burnt tongue, a sore back and a kinked neck.   Eventually, I hope to find that right person who makes my life complete; someone who makes me feel safe every night when I go to sleep and who will protect me from the bears if they are there when I wake up.

Until then, at least now when people ask me why I am still single, I can proudly say: “I have a Goldilocks Complex”!