Nights in White Satin

Unintended hiatus from blogging for the last few days, but honestly, not much has happened of note.

I did go hiking with my friend and her mom, which was awesome. It was on this private farm property up in Woodside, and for the art history geek in me, it was pretty sweet. The people who owned the many acres of farmage had statutes and other works of sculpture lining all of the hiking trails. It was super cool, and I learned yet another important life lesson: don't miss opportunities to experience life, to "work." My friend and I then went to see the new Johnny Depp movie, Dark Shadows. It was alright; it had all the ingredients to be a good movie (intriguing premise, source material, good actors, comedy potential, good production value), but suffered from a weak script. It seemed like the writers were suffering from trying to cram four years of the original show's plots and sub-plots into 90 minutes. This lead to a lack of character development outside of Johnny Depp's character, and none of the interpersonal relationships really went anywhere. Would have been better if they simplified it down to one or two central plots. The first half of the movie was the best, because it had all of the gags, riffing on some guy from the 1790s suddenly being plopped into the 1970s... Incidentally, ever since I watched that movie, I can't stop listening to 60s and 70s era music. Like, Nights in White Satin by the Moody Blues in particular. Which I never really liked before. I don't know; movies with flawed/tortured yet somehow endearing male leads have weird effects on me.

In other news, my parents got home on Sunday. Everything on that front has been fine; no inherent awkwardness over the whole boyfriend-living-with-me thing. Incidentally, albeit with some parental coaxing, a bit of my old self (read: competitive) came out, and for some insane reason I decided to try to finish the writing competition, even without the damn book that I needed. Initially I had given up, because I knew that to try to do the write-on without all the needed material would be insane. If I am honest with myself, I think I did it because if Hell freezes over and I actually get on one of the journals, I will have hardcore bragging rights of, "I did this in 1.5 days, while y'all did it in 6." Needless to say, it was a cluster. I went down to my dad's office to work on it (because we don't have functional scanners at my parents' house, a clutch element of the competition). We didn't leave there until almost 3AM, and I was working right up until 6:55AM on Tuesday, 5 minutes before it was due. During the day, there was some hardcore scrambling to find this stupid Texas Law Review Manual of Style. By scrambling, I mean there was some Kristin-running-around-her-parents'-old-law-school to try to find this book, photocopying 2/3 of the 19th edition of the Bluebook because I couldn't check it out of the law library (that was the other good news-- I figured out that I had also forgotten my Bluebook in Chicago. Whomp.), working out of an 18th edition Bluebook (one edition older than the current one) borrowed from one of the associates at my dad's firm. Never did find it, said Screw It, and went on without it. I am pretty sure the editing portion of my submission is crap. But, I do think I managed to eek out a decent case note portion, so we shall see. I think my doing this was a latent variation on something I had always wanted to do: namely, in high school I considered trying to apply to Harvard. I had no real emotional investment in it; at the time, an Ivy League school was not what I wanted out of undergrad. But I was always curious about whether or not I could get in. Didn't ever apply to find out. This, I think, was kind of like that. But, if I do get a journal membership offer, apparently it will generally carry over if I leave school and then decide to come back. So, that's something.

Other than that, nothing new to report. Still no job offers, still no new interviews. I am starting to lose hope. I would really like the job I interviewed for last week, but it is starting to look like that won't happen. Oy. I just would really like some time to not be a student, and to start making my own money, and live like a real young adult, not one that is still dependent on her parents and the government. I would also like to start paying down my student loans because, let's face it, debt sucks. I can't tell you how much I want to start being my own person, and shaping my own life, and I cannot do that while I am a student-- at least, while I am a student who has never been anything else. But, it looks as if fate has other plans. I don't know what else to do. The kicker is, I really do think I am actually qualified for the jobs to which I have applied; I don't know what the problem is.

So, that was this week. Nothing exciting, really. My parents were out again this evening, so I took the opportunity to go to dinner on my own and have some "me" time. And by "me" time, I mean drive around for a while. Every time I need to think-- or to remember-- if I have the chance, I get in my car and turn up the tunage and drive for a while. I have a special route that I go on-- that will remain secret to me-- always the same route. So anyway, I was on this route tonight, and was just thinking. I wish I were more like I was in high school. I realize that back then, I was just generally a more chill and, I think, nicer person. Since college, I just get a lot more pissed off at things, at people, just in general. Perhaps it is because college exposes you to more of the world, and much of what I see... just disappoints me, more than anything. I remember when I was 16, 17, 18, I would move heaven and earth to do right by people, to be there. Now, I just don't have a lot of that feeling left. And I feel it, I feel what is lacking by not having that in me anymore. But, I just can't muster it. Who knows what happened; perhaps what Alyson Sheedy said in The Breakfast Club is right: "When you grow up, your heart dies." But then, the rest of that exchange is equally true for me: "Who cares?" "I care."

Of course, all of this (pensive, brooding thinking; endless Nights in White Satin listening) could be the result of the fact that, for a variety of reasons, being back home in California can mess with my head.

The Other Side of the Hedge

I truly believe that sometimes, life tarries in signs. Anyone who knows me, will tell you that I am not a religious person, and I have my reasons for that. But I have always felt, that there is some higher universal order-- what, I don't know-- that shows its self for time to time, dropping hints as we try to make decisions in our lives.

I wasn't going to write tonight, because nothing really exciting has happened today. But then I came across three "signs," that, given my current "state of flux," seemed particularly profound, one more than the last. The last pushed it over the edge.

First, on the most mundane level, the world seems to be conspiring against my completing the writing competition for law journals. One of the two reference books I desperately need, was sold out at the NU bookstore. I waited until I got to California to try to locate one, because I figured it wouldn't be that hard. I was wrong. It is near impossible to find, and near impossible to get until Monday, less than 24 hours before the project is due. Now, if I really wanted to move heaven and earth, I could probably drive around all over the South Bay, until I found a library that carries it. But, given how much time that will take, and how much reading I still have to do, there is no way that I would be able to finish this thing, without pulling yet another all-nighter. Possibly more than one. Which frankly, I am not willing to do. This whole thing seems to be a lot more about jumping through hoops, and less about substantive meaning. So, I probably won't finish the writing competition. Which, I am not too upset about, frankly. Instead of slaving over some bullshit make-work, trying to get another resume "notch" in my belt, I am going hiking tomorrow with one of my friends from high school, since she is briefly in town. And I have no regrets. There is something really freeing in defying the "ought," the expectation that work/prestige/success > everything else.

Which brings me to sign number two. Now, I am not the biggest fan of many of Mitt Romney's political positions, but I do like to believe I give credit where credit is due, and the man has hit it on the head about the appropriate life balance. This quote-- which I ran across in my daily perusal of Yahoo! articles-- pretty much sums up the appropriate "work-life" balance. It struck me as so true, I was willing to ignore the fact it was given during his commencement speech at the sketch-tastic Liberty University.

"I have never once regretted missing any experience or opportunity in business in order to be with my wife and five sons. Regrets usually come the other way around, from missing moments with your children that don't come again. The same holds true for time with your parents as the years fall away. Among the things in life that can be put off, being there when it matters most isn't one of them."

Basically, the Republican nominee, and potential next President of the United States, has publicly stated what more and more people of my generation (I think? Or maybe it's just me?) are starting to figure out. The good life? The right work-life balance? Is more life and less work. As I have said before, one works to live, not the other way around. This quote, pretty much distilled and brought into stark light, my evolving life philosophy. Some people want to be the next Carly Fiorina, the next multi-billionaire who counts his or her success by the number of cars in the garage, the white picket fence. Some people want power and prestige, want to rule their corner of the world. That is great for those people; I am learning, I am realizing, that I am not one of those people. I get my true happiness-- not the fleeting warm feeling of "good job" from some third party-- by moments in life, whether in solitude "me" time, hanging with friends, or being with family. Not from "stuff" or how much extra money is in my bank account. A job, or a life, where I would continually have to give up these moments-- even if small, even if just the ability to relax after a long day-- would just turn me into a bitter, angry person. In a moment of hubris, I will say that, if I put all my energy into it, I probably could be one of those people. I like to think anyway, that I am fairly smart and resourceful. But at what cost? So, I am going hiking tomorrow.

And, on a more metaphysical level, sign three. Instead of reading late into the night, the many cases for the competition, I decided to settle into bed a little early, and read a work of fiction that has not been assigned to me. Something I haven't had time to do in ages, and something I really miss. So I started in on an old book of short stories, one from high school. I was reading some pretty interesting, but straightforward stuff. A story by Hemingway, for example. And then I came to a short work by E.M. Forster, The Other Side of the Hedge. Although it is only seven or eight pages long, it is incredibly complex, and incredibly metaphysical, allegorical, and philosophical. I am sure some English Masters student could have a field day with it (and one probably has). But the point is, this story-- from which I got the title of today's post-- points out the fallacy of the kind of always-achieving, always-pushing-forward life we all have been told, or have been telling ourselves, that we want, or should want.

It would take much too much space to get into everything here, but basically the story tells of a guy running on an endless, dusty road. It tells of his scorn for those who have lagged behind. But, there is this hedge that always lines the road. Early on, after running, running, running down this road, the guy collapses in exhaustion. He feels a cool breeze coming from the hedge, so he steps off the road and goes through the hedge, to its other side, to investigate. What he finds a paradise-like environment, with cool ponds and green, rolling hills. People are there, and they carry on and run around and stuff, but never in a pointed direction, unlike the road people. The guy spends most of the story ridiculing the people he sees, going on and on about how the point of human existence is progress, to continue on the road, to "get somewhere." Basically, though, the point of the story is that, for all that the road really is endless, until one gets to the end point-- death-- at which time, the road leads back to the paradise-- everyone end up in the same place. The guide taking the guy around-- who turns out to be the guy's brother, who he had left "on the side of the road" because his brother has "wasted" his time singing, and his energy helping people-- also shows that the "road" doesn't really go on and on into endless progress, but really doubles back and back, never really getting too far away from the beginning of this road (which the guy is shown), from which all humans began their endless race. The point of all this, was that the people who were in this paradise, were content to just be, and not enslaved by an endless and somewhat futile drive to carry on and on. They were truly happy, while the others were burdened by the necessity of the road. The guide pointed out that, once someone from the road came to this new paradise, they never went back. At the end of the story, the guy finally comes round, and abandons himself to the simple pleasures and truth of paradise.

Given our highly competitive society, where "success" as defined by accolades or progress or material measures is paramount, I thought this story particularly apt. It made me realize, yet again, that there are multiple definitions of success, and that perhaps being on "the road" is not the, or at least not the only, way to find contentment in this life, and is, perhaps, actually a poor way of conducting one's life. So, perhaps I need to get off the road for a while, and find my own "other side of the hedge." I feel a lot of us are told just to keep going down the road, to keep at it, because what we will find will always be worth it. But what if, that road-- like the road in the story-- really is dusty and endless, not really leading you anywhere further, for all of your struggling? Anyway, I would encourage anyone who can to read it. It gives a lot of food for thought. Might have to read it more than once, though.