Soapbox No. 2: The Angry Bitch Post

Disclaimer right now: This post is going to be more angry than pensive, unlike my other more non-narrative posts. So, if blunt-to-the-point-of aggressive thoughts (or the peppering of the "F" word) bothers you, you may wish to skip this one. Warning: it will be entirely un-PC.

I saw an article today that got me fuming for pretty much half the day. Apparently, some court in Germany has decided that male circumcision of infants, is assault, effectively banning the practice, at least legally. Interestingly, this is a law that will primarily affect only religious and ethnic minorities-- namely, Jews and Muslims-- because the court specifically said that it is banned in the case of religious--as opposed to medical (and I guess then, hygienic?)-- reasons.

First: Germany. No one in the official media is sayin' it, but you *know* we are all thinking it...

Secondly, this ruling is crap. The court, in its opinion, said the "fundamental right of the child to lebensraum bodily integrity outweighed the fundamental rights of the parents." This ruling puts into legal precedent something a lot of bleeding-heart types have wanted for a long time: basically, to force religious leaders and doctors (the law in Germany didn't preclude the practice if done by doctors, but this is in fact what a lot of the proponents for this type of ban actually do want) to stop performing the procedure. Namely, to take away people's right to consider the pros and cons, and decide for themselves. In doing so, these do-gooder types have described the practice as "barbaric," and have likened it to female genital mutilation, which is practiced in many, lesser-developed societies. The court said that it takes away the child's right to "choose his religion" later on, because *so* much of your spirituality is dependent on being "intact" (I would like to point out at this juncture that there are many people of all sorts of religions, or none at all, that have it done. So no, I don't think anyone is going to say you can't decide to be Catholic when you are older, because a moyel did a bris on you when you were 8 days old). And, from what I can tell from reading the comments by the peanut gallery that tend to come after such internet articles, most people agreed with this decision, and want to see it "spread" to the rest of the civilized world.

I am going to address (briefly) some of their arguments:

1. It is not just an "old religious tradition" that has no practical meaning. Now, if you know anything about me, you know my thoughts on religion (Sparknotes version: I don't like it). But every so often, it actually gets something right. Shocking, I know. Look, a lot of what got codified as religious dogma back in the day, actually came out of practical realities of the time, dictates that were put down so that people wouldn't get their assess kicked by nature, and thus the society could survive. One of these things was circumcision. Namely, intact people have a higher chance of getting very painful infections, because bacteria and other nasties can get trapped, um, "there," if not thoroughly cleaned. Since it was hard to be thoroughly cleaned back in the day, it was a good preventative measure in terms of not getting what I imagine would be a really nasty condition. Now, proponents of the no-circumcision thing say that this is no longer necessary, as we live in a much more hygienic society, and it is unlikely that it will cause problems, so you are putting someone through trauma for no reason. Which brings me to my next point...

2. Just because it is "less likely" to cause problems, doesn't mean it shouldn't be dealt with. Now, I a not a religious person, but if I ever have sons-- assuming the bleeding hearts haven't rammed through some kind of law banning it by then-- I am going to get them "altered" at the hospital, before we leave. Why? Because the peace of mind that it is one less potentially very problematic health issue they will have to deal with growing up. As humans, we take out and preemptively deal with "unnecessary" body parts all the time, before they become an issue. Exhibit A: wisdom teeth. Wisdom teeth are pretty much universally taken out now when a teen is around 16 years old, before they have erupted. Why? Because when they erupt, at best they cause teeth to overcrowd, and at worst they grow in impacted, leading to a very painful, likely-to-be infected,situation. So we take them out ahead of time, to just avoid the whole nasty situation. It is likewise the same with circumcision. Yes, it is a "natural" part of the male body, but no, males do not need it, and the potential problems it can cause down the line just aren't worth having it around.

3. Now, a lot of proponents of no circumcision would say, "but any surgical or quasi-surgical procedure carries a risk that someone is going to botch it, or that it will be infected, and so it is an unnecessary risk." Yes, that is in fact true. Hopefully, you vet the people performing these things, but shit does, in fact, happen. Same can be said for wisdom teeth. In fact, I think the risk of infection might be higher for wisdom teeth, since I kept hearing horror stories about dry socket before I got mine done. And thus I was paranoid about following doctor's orders, and keeping my mouth clean. But you know what? If the doctor or moyel knows what he is doing, I bet that risk is pretty low, probably lower than the risk of infection if you keep it around (you can clean yourself all you want, but the skin is easily inflamed or infected, particularly if you have bad skin to begin with. I consider myself pretty hygienic; still didn't prevent me from getting a bad cyst infection this year that required (very painful, like a 9/10 on the scale ER doctors keep asking you about) draining and two visits to the ER). And what do you think is more traumatic for someone? An infection in infancy, when you won't remember it, or a very painful infection "down there" that you have to deal with after your brain and neuron connections have fully developed? A minor surgical procedure when you are a week old, or a what will be a more major surgery should you choose to get it done later in life? I had some pretty serious operations in infancy that, while I get to tell some cool/shocking stories about them, I thank my lucky stars that I don't remember jack shit, because I don't know if I could mentally handle "heart failure" and "open heart surgery" thrown at me, now that I am old enough to be aware of what that means, and what getting it worked on could entail (namely, flatlining in the OR). Oh, and: Twice. Twice this happened. I don't need that in my memory.

4. Which again brings me to another point: pain. A lot of people think it is bad because it is painful for the babies. This is the only point on which they have kind of a point. Apparently, when done in religious ceremonies, or even in some hospitals, they don't bother to use anesthesia. That is fucking stupid, I admit. Spring a lil cash, and get some local anesthesia. Problem solved. A lot of the proponents of this ban say that by deferring it, you are letting the guy decide on his bodily integrity later in life, when he has capacity to control his destiny or whatever. You know what is going to be more painful than some un-anesthetized cutting when the infant is too young to remember? Cutting it when it has fully developed, necessitating a more major procedure, and thus a more protracted recovery time. I had some foot surgery done last summer, and I had to take the Vicodin they gave me to the max dosage to get the pain down during recovery. And then my body couldn't handle it, so I vomited. So basically, it fucking sucked. So, what guy is going to want to voluntarily go through this when he is older, even if it is objectively beneficial?

5. People who claim that circumcision-- particularly in a religious context-- is "mutilation," and compare it to the hack job that women in undeveloped societies have to deal with. If you can't tell the difference between a minor quasi-surgical procedure that has objective health benefits and an easy recovery, and a procedure that is meant to take all sexual pleasure away from women by creating constant pain, as a way to keep them virgins until they marry, and then obedient to their husbands (or murder, or honor killings or foot binding, or abortion, which are some of the other comparisons people have been making), then sorry. You are a fucking idiot.

Although, this court in Germany might just get the Nobel Peace Prize for their little stunt. Because they just did the fucking impossible: they succeeded in uniting the Jewish and Muslim populations, in solidarity outrage over this law that makes a major ceremony in their respective religions illegal.

Why do I bring this all up? Because this law is the epitome of why it is becoming increasingly less of a question of "if," and more of a question of "when" I am going to give up on society as a whole, and go somewhere remote to become a crazy cat lady (or dogs, or bunnies, or really any small, fluffy, blood pressure-reducing critter).

Why? Because increasingly, I am seeing that one cannot escape from the tyranny of the "opinion" if one is to live in society. As the saying goes, opinions are like assholes: everyone's got one. Except people aren't happy having their opinions be just that: opinions. Oh no, they have to make everyone agree with their opinions, if not by persuasion then by force. Like this law: because *some* people think that circumcision is not necessary and a bad practice, they now must take away the ability of parents to fully consider the issue, and then make the decision they find is best for their child. Oh no, because *they* think it is bad, it must be bad as they could not *possibly* be wrong, so *they* should get to decide for everyone else. Because, you know, anyone who disagrees is obviously a barbarian, and so we couldn't possibly listen to what they have to say, or consider their side. Or a slut.

And I see this everywhere I go, from official policy to family, religious and culture tradition, to peer pressure. People think they got it all figured out, and that because something works for them, or comports with their morality or world view, everyone else must follow suit. You know why I don't "do" religion? I got into a big fight about this with my mom on my parent's anniversary. I told my mom "I am not a Christian," (which I am not-- I am not anything, even though I grew up Episcopalian/Anglican/whatever). She got all angry because she thought that my declaration was my trying to disavow my heritage, culture, and the way my parents raised me. That is not it at all. I think I take a lot of deference to the values my parents instilled in me-- like honesty, loyalty, hard work, and independence. But I can have those values without being tied down to a religious doctrine. In reality, I don't "do" religion because all I see it as, is more bars on the jailhouse door, so to speak. With everyone else trying to force their way of living or beliefs on you, why would anyone gratuitously add yet another level of restriction and dictation, of "moral imperative," particularly given by people who have no idea about the individual circumstances of others, and are taking their direction from a book or books (depending on your religion) written in a society in no way, shape, or form similar to the way we are living now? That is why I don't do religion, primarily (there is also the issue that I think that the question of whether there is a god/higher power, is not dispositive of the question of whether we should worship it or do what it says. But that is a post for another day.)

Basically, I follow a simple life philosophy, cliched but true: live and let live. As much as possible, I try to not gratuitously be a bitch to people, or get up in their business. I observe things around me, I observe how people behave. And a lot of it I may not approve of, because it violates my sense of what it is to not be a jerk, and therefore wouldn't do myself. But, so long as what these people are doing doesn't directly affect my ability to lead my quiet, relatively uneventful life in peace, I am not enough of an arrogant prick to think that because I think certain things are wrong or stupid, I should force others to comply with the way I behave. Because the only person who knows what is right for a person, is that person. And sometimes people make bad choices, and have to-- or should have to-- deal with the consequences. This is what I believe in regards to others, so I expect the same common courtesy in return. I am not my brother's keeper, and neither is he mine. And that, my friends, is the essence of freedom: the ability to define one's own existence, in peace. To rise and fall as the results of one's own actions. To make choices, and to learn from them. To *live*. To, in the words of our Founding Fathers, pursue happiness, so long as it is not in a destructive way (towards others. And no, "emotional distress" or "being offended" don't count. To use the language of the German court, the right to free speech-- as expression is part of really living-- outweighs any right to not have one's feelings hurt). Existing and living are not the same thing. I don't want to be part of a society that only lets me exist, and not live. This is also incidentally why no, I am not some crazy Anarchist. I think organized government and a legal system is imperative to preserving-- as much as possible-- the right to live and let live. Since rapists, murders, thieves, fundamentally violate this credo. And deserve their just desserts for it.

Sometimes I think maybe things will change, maybe people will see the light and start valuing freedom over their own little pet sensibilities. But no, it seems that increasingly, people are willing to trade their freedom-- and encourage others to take freedoms and choices away-- for whatever reason they agree with. On the right, it is this bullshit moral majority crap (because when one decides to have sex, or whether one exposes his or her hair or their skin, or whether one use contraception, or who one consensually loves and marries, or if one eats dairy with meat, or meat on Fridays, or works on the Sabbath, is so fucking dispositive of whether or not they are a "good" person, and so fucking relevant to the lives of those not involved). On the left, it is this collectivist mindset of "for the good of everyone/the whole/society." Or, you know, environment (also, have you people learned nothing from the 20th century? The path to hell is fucking paved with trying to forcibly promote or establish some person's or people's idea of "for the good of society." Seriously, go open a history book, and educate yourselves). And as much as either side is willing to call out their nemesis's bullshit, they will refuse to look at, analyze, or call out their own, finding a million and one excuses (my favorite, on the left, is the "externalities" argument. Yeah, pretty much everything has externalities. Still doesn't mean you should be able to tell me when and where I can have a fire in my fireplace, IN MY OWN GODDAMN HOUSE) why the other side's efforts to curtail freedom and choice is crap, but *their* pet projects are right and fine and "the right thing to do." And people will clamor to this, and actively promote and accept it, if it goes along with whatever excuse they happen to find persuasive. So the result is, we are constantly being squeezed, from the right, from the left.

One of the objections my boyfriend has when we get into this discussion, which usually turns into a fight (my boyfriend, bless his heart, is the eternal optimist, and also profoundly liberal), is that I have had a comparatively blessed life, so "why am I angry?" he says. For the most part, things have gone my way, and I have been lucky enough to have a lot of freedom, a lot of opportunity, and not much in my way. Aside from that lil snafu at the beginning of my life (which has not been a further problem for 21 years), I've had it good. So perhaps it seems bratty that I am so angry about all of this. But that is exactly my point: it is comparatively good right now, for me more than a lot of others, but for most people as well. It could always be better, but we are no longer indentured servants on feudal estates, having to do what "god and country (being one dude who has everything go his way)" tell us to do. We are living the Enlightenment dream, to be fully autonomous, free-thinking individuals. Or at least we should be. But freedom is a very precarious thing, it is fragile and exceedingly fleeting. Drop the ball once, relax on your laurels of individualism too long, and it can be snatched from under you. And what I am seeing around the globe lately-- retrenchment back into religious dogma, or a heightened drive towards "collectivism" -- threatens the delicate liberty we were all taught to believe in. And the problem is, people don't seem to care. They are too distracted by infighting to notice, and in many instances, are willing participants. For a long time, this country (with the exception maybe of the influence of the church, unfortunately) generally had a hands-off approach to people doing their thing, whether through official policy or otherwise. I feel like we are getting away from this, and this is bad. That is why, even though my existence is privileged, I must-- as should we all-- call out the bullshit when we see it. Because people trying to unduly control others (and I don't even mean in an official way, like with laws, but just in general) is like a cancer-- easier to keep in check when it is small and just beginning, but if it infects the body, it is exceedingly difficult to kill, and either the disease-- or, in some cases, the treatment-- will end up killing the body. But, it seems like no one is really willing to do this, because they agree with some of it, and fail to see the forest for the trees. Which depresses the hell out of me.

I imagine for my fiercely individualist views, I will be called or thought of in many different, unflattering terms: crazy, selfish, cold, mean, bitchy, uncaring, hedonistic, immoral, unbalanced, "a slut." But, if you couldn't tell from my blog, I really stopped giving these labels any sort of power over me, a long time ago. It not my problem what people choose to label or see me as, as long as I am true and honest to myself. Yes, it is important to be mindful of how one is perceived, but not at the expense of what makes you, you. As someone once said (again a cliche, but true): it is better to be hated for who you are, than loved for who you are not. So, I guess if it really gets to an extreme point of people trying to force others into their version of conformity, I probably will leave for a remote destination; like a line from one of my favorite movies says, I will "leave the madness over the mountains." Because I won't compromise myself or my integrity just to "get on" in the world.

Damn. I am starting to sound like Holden-fucking-Caufield. And I didn't even really like that book much.

Readers, if any of you agree with me on any of the above, please do leave comments. It would be nice to know that I am not alone. Or better yet, send your friends the link to this page, to "spread the word." But, somehow I don't think this will really happen, as I think I am in the significant minority over here.

Anyway, thanks for listening/reading. Particularly if any of what I said just attacked what you believed. If you continued reading in spite of that, I have a lot of respect for you. I am just trying to get people to think, to stop reacting and start acting. And sometimes you just have to be blunt. Anyway, it will be back to the regular mood of this blog on the next post.

Battle Cry of an Iconoclast

Hello. My name is Kristin, and I am an iconoclast.

And no, I don't mean those old religious people who like 500 years ago were against images of God or whatever. I mean, over the last several years, I have developed a world-view that in many ways, goes against currently-accepted social thought. Some of that thought is relatively recent neo-liberal doublethink, some of it is 1000s of years of human thought. Which means, I will probably at some point in my life hurt/piss off/offend people who have bought into any of the above. I honestly don't know what to do; I don't hold any of these beliefs in malice or to harm anyone. I hold these beliefs because at my core being, the one principle I hold above all others, is that humans were and are meant to be free. That humans have a right and deserve to be free. Honestly, that is why I am interested in criminal law: I believe that criminals take from others that right. I don't construe freedom as, "let's all just run wild like hyenas." I construe freedom as the ability to choose the definitions and experiences of one's own life, in ways that do not palpably harm another (in terms of physical violation or property violation; I get off the boat at "emotional distress" or "offense.") But, I feel like not so many people--friends, family, loved ones, co-workers-- will not be so understanding of my beliefs, and will some how take it personally that I hold them. So, I guess this is in my in-advance apology. If I say or do anything to upset you out of these beliefs, know that I do it not because I think less of you, but because just as some cling fervently to their religion or their country or their politics or their cause, this desire for freedom is my religion. I cannot let it go any more than the Pope can let go of his faith.

So, here are some of the things I believe, that will probably make me a social pariah. Alas.

1. Religion. Why? Why should I construe my life or behavior according to what some guys (because let's be real, most religions were written by men) wrote down a long time ago? This isn't even getting to the question of whether a god or gods exist (although, its existence wouldn't change my belief; if a god or god-like power exists, it has shown itself to be a tyrant of sorts, and goes against humanity's right to freedom and self-determination). I am totally willing to admit that when they wrote the rules, many--perhaps most-- came out of the practical needs and realities of the time and societies in which they arose. Great. But times change, people change, society changes and moves on. Why should the dictates of 500, 2000, 4000 years ago still be relevant to my life, to my own sense of morality? Obviously, there are the basics: don't lie, don't steal, don't kill anyone. But beyond that, so much has changed. The world is not at all structured the way it was back in the day. I think the core of religions is basically, "don't be a jerk." Beyond that, why should it matter if my hair shows, if I eat meat on Fridays, if I use birth control, if I get married, if I don't get married, if I have one partner, if I have many?

2. The "American work ethic." I believe in hard work, I believe in believing in what you do, and trying to do it to the best of your ability. I believe that what you put into life, you should get out of it, but you should not just be handed things. That being said, I disagree with this mentality (not helped by the shitty economy) that you will or should jump through whatever hoops your boss puts in your way. I don't think working 80,90 hours a week is healthy. I don't think being "on call" 24/7 is healthy (thank you, Crackberries and SmartPhones). I also don't think being a lazy bum is healthy. This kind of goes along with the idea of, "everything in moderation." Take pride in your work, and do it well. But I refuse to sacrifice meaningful relationships (or, perhaps more urgently, my mental or physical health) for a job.

3. The problem of the "work-life balance" in America. Now, all of the following is heresy, but I have heard that a lawyer friend of the family who lives and works in Paris (he is French), doesn't take his work laptop with him on holiday. "Work is work, and vacation is vacation." And, at least as far as I can tell, his bosses and clients are just kind of...fine with that. In China, apparently, the family would be totally chill if you missed Granny's funeral because some major thing came up at work. Try pulling that in this country, and you will never hear the end of it, from both ends. "Where is the memo?" "Why weren't you at Bobby's State Championship hockey game?" Sometimes, I have this fantasy of putting my family, my boss and my clients into one room, and giving them the following speech: "Sometimes, I have to work, even when important things come up with the family. Other times, I have to be with the family, even if shit is blowing up at work. Sometimes, I will choose work over family. Sometimes, I will choose family over work. And all of you (pointing and squinting)... will just FUCKING DEAL WITH IT AND NOT GIVE ME SHIT ABOUT IT. Thank you. That is all." Because in both situations, we have people who are counting on us, whose very lives may be at stake at one time or another. And often times, there will be impossible conflicts, and you have to choose. That's compromise. That's life. Is it really so hard for the relevant parties to even try to understand?

4. Marriage/monogamy/til death do us part. Apparently, biological humans (homo sapien sapiens) have only spent about 5% of their history in long-term monogamous relationships (probably helped by the fact that tree-people humans croaked at age 25). Only 3-5% of all animal species are in paired-off relationships. It was a combination of thinking about all the recent celebrity sex scandals, the ridiculously-high divorce rate (and higher rate of infidelity, often leading to divorce), and a monologue in The Iceman Cometh, where this one character talks about how radical Marxism echews traditional marriage or relationship structures, because they are based on property and ownership, got me thinking. Forget for a moment that a bunch of recent research suggests humans are actually biologically programmed for, essentially, stable-ish relationships with a bit on the side. Fuck biology, because as people will argue, humans are cognitively able to overcome their base biological urges/instincts/etc. I think just from a freedom perspective, the Marxists may have a point (one of the few things on which they do). Isn't the whole idea that while in a relationship, married or not, the partners somehow "belong" to each other, kind of sick? This kind of goes along with number one, on religion. Historians, anthropologists, biologists suggest that monogamy arose as a response to the development of agricultural societies and the need to know "who da baby-daddy" for property-transfer interests. It arose in a situation where women and children were entirely dependent on the man, so you needed to know who was responsible. At least in the West, while not perfect by any means, we are more or less out of that kind of situation. And, back in the day, people croaked young. Now, the "ideal" sets us up for marriages or partnerships of 30, 40, 50, 60 years of being with the same person, and never shall you touch another. That seems very...wrong, in a way. Or it does to me. 50 years is a long time.

So now the idea is that you should and can only ever love one person at a time-- emotionally, physically, etc. But is this right? Are people fundamentally incapable of having a meaningful, loving relationship with more than one person? Why should they be? Love-- and I don't just me the freaky kind (although I think there is something to be said for the proven human biological need for a variety of physical sexual experiences), I mean the real, emotional connection people can have-- is one of the greatest things there is; why should it be limited to one person at a time? And why does it necessarily follow that if you feel such a connection for one person, feeling that for another will somehow take away from your feelings towards the first? I am not saying we should have a license to be irresponsible, because there are concerns over disease and the like. But are we really helped by the fact that people, while living the "fantasy" ideal relationships, have been dinking around with others forever-- and then lying about it, such that disease is more likely to be spread (syphilis in Europe circa 1900s, anyone)? I am not an idiot or a hypocrite; I admit I would be upset if someone "cheated" on me. But is this natural? Is this really the way it should be? Or have we been socially conditioned to think that such infidelity is some kind of personal insult, and not just the expression of the ultimate human need to love and be loved? I love my boyfriend, and I have never and would never do any of the above because we are in a relationship, because I know it would hurt him. And he is the last person on Earth who deserves to be hurt. But, perhaps we are doing ourselves a disservice-- and unintentionally caging those we love most-- by construing love, relationships, and marriage the way society has conditioned us to see and understand them. The strong are the ones who can keep trucking through, and "fight upstream" against the natural current, out of their love for another. My question is, why should this be a battle to begin with?

4. Political correctitude. Don't even get me started. I am going to throw something at the next person who says "diversity" or "sustainable" at me. Why? Not because I am inherently against these ideas, but because all these BS platitudes are kind of a way to curtail freedom of speech and expression. While liberals will tell you that things like calling handicapped people "differently abled" is a way to have them "own" their situation, I can tell you where it actually leads. I am even willing to accept the good intentions of these PC people. But, "the path to Hell is paved in good intentions." Because what it sets up, is a certain vocabulary of "accepted speech." Because to buy into the PC term du jour, you have to buy into its foundation, which is essentially that no one should be made to feel uncomfortable or offended or insulted, ever, for any reason. Not for their race, religion, career, social status, sex, sexual orientation, physical disability, political views, etc. etc. I am not saying go out on the street and start throwing gratuitous slurs and insults towards people. But the idea that everyone should be shield from uncomfortable or confrontational speech, is basically the antithesis of freedom of expression, freedom of speech, which-- at least at one point-- were considered in this country foundational, fundamental human rights. And how far down the road of unaccepted speech will it go? At what point is "bad" speech not just calling someone the "N" word, or a "slut," a "wop," "fag," and into absurdities like, you can't call someone fat or even "big" (even if they are objectively overweight) because that word has a negative connotation. Or "short," even if it is objectively true, because that has a negative connotation? Or "poor?" You see where I am going with this? It becomes absurd, to the point where we can't express anything disagreeable at all. Which is unnatural. And turns into a situation that is a lie. Like that episode of the Twilight Zone where the whole town always has to say creepily positive things or this demon kid will kill them with ESP. People --humans-- have a range of emotions, anger and calm, love and hate, passion and collective contemplation. And to be truly free, humans need to be able to express these things (obviously, not in wildly inappropriate ways, like beating the crap out of someone or shooting them). But forgive me for being contrarian, but I do not think there is anything fundamentally wrong with given someone a good, old-fashioned, possibly insulting bitch-out, if needed. It is part of what makes us human. Deny us one half of our emotions, and we lose part of our humanity.Or what about political speech? Go too far down the road of the idea of "accepted speech" and "unaccepted speech" in politics, and, well, I hope you enjoy going to "Dear Leader" rallies and goose-stepping.

5. "Being green;" aka, OMFG CLIMATE CHANGE WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE! Quick, let's go back to living in trees. I am not one of those people who will categorically deny that climate change is happening. I also will not categorically accept it as gospel truth. Because I am not a scientist, I haven't done any tests, I haven't done the studies, I wouldn't know how to do the research. But, I feel the subject is so politicized, and everyone has some kind of ideological axe to grind, it is really hard to trust studies-- on either side, yay or nay, as objectively truthful. But, in the end, it doesn't matter. Perhaps this is more nihilist than iconoclast, but the climate is going to change eventually. Hotter or colder, it doesn't matter. It was going to happen. And if humans are contributing, we are only speeding up the inevitable. So why are we running around like chickens with our heads cut off, trying to figure out how to make our lives less enjoyable for the sake of the "environment." I don't think we should allow the planet to turn into a toxic waste dump, because I enjoy, um, breathing. But, c'mon California. Banning fireplaces? People have been burning wood for millennia. This is not the cause of our problems, such as they are. And fireplaces make life more enjoyable. I know! We should make people buy "Carbon credits" for breathing, since breathing produces greenhouse gasses. And there are almost 7 billion of us on the planet. That's a lot of CO2. And what about the animals? They all breathe. And there are a hell of a lot more of them than us. We should tax them, too. I kind of liken it to one of my other personal life philosophies: I would rather live to 70 living an enjoyable if not entirely healthy lifestyle, than live to 90 by eating leaves and exercising 4 hours a day. Life's short, life's tough, we have but a moment on this Earth, why sweat the things we cannot control, and stop denying ourselves the petty, small enjoyable things?

Well, by now I have probably upset or worried or pissed off whoever is reading this in at least one way. My apologizes. No, I am not depressed. I actually quite like bopping around this Earth; I just wish it could be more on my own terms. Perhaps I have just picked up too much philosophy in my education, and in my overly-introspective mind, have used that to turn what I see into, "all the ways by which people put themselves into boxes, either individually or collectively." If you couldn't tell, I am much more of an individualist than a collectivist.

Well, now that I have told you more of my world-view than you ever needed to know, I must retire as I have work tomorrow. A work, by the way, that I quite enjoy. I am actually having a bang-up time in NYC; I don't want to leave. This is not a screed of, "life sucks," so much as a, "how could life be better?" Didn't Socrates say something about the unexamined life?

Goodnight all, and I hope you days are filled with true choice and freedom.

Concrete Jungle Where Dreams are Made

New York City. The Big Apple. That place I used to see in a lot of movies and TV shows. And now, I am here. For the next two months. This should be interesting.

I got in to the Big Apple at 6:30 AM local time, after a wonderful night flight/red eye out of SFO. My theory was, "Oh I will take the Red Eye, get like 5.5 hours of sleep, and be generally good to go." Except that I had been staying up kind of late the previous two nights, and was therefore not entirely sleepy at 10:30PM Pacific Time, when the flight took off. And then, some ASSHOLE on the plane was listening to their iPod so goddamn loud that I could hear their music through their m-f-ing headphones. I couldn't figure out who it was, or I would have bitched them the hell out right then and there. Something you should know about me: When I am tired, and want to be sleeping, and someone or something is preventing this from happening for a stupid reason, it is kind of an exercise in Dr. Jekyll and Ms. Kristin. AKA, I turn into a huge bitch. Sorry. Needless to say, I got about an hour of sleep. Maybe. At some point, it became pointless to try to sleep, so I watched 30 Rock on the plane instead. I had never seen 30 Rock before. I don't get why everyone likes it; Alec Baldwin was good, but the episode I saw was kind of stupid and not very funny. Like, it seemed like it was trying too hard to be funny, or something, and that made it not funny.

Anyway, I am currently residing on Lafayette Street, near Canal Street. My residence is at this odd juncture between Chinatown and SoHo, so it is this weird mix of super tacky/slightly sketchy/very dirty and like, at least on West Broadway, super upscale boutiques and art galleries carrying goods I probably will never be able to afford. On the plus side, I found an awesome burger joint on LaGuardia Place, a bit south of Washington Square. I can see it becoming a hangout of sorts. Plus, at least tonight, the waitstaff was super cute. And I couldn't tell if my waiter was flirting with me, or just doing good, attentive service. He fist-pumped me. Maybe it's a New York thing. I tipped him well, at least. And West Broadway is cool because there are artists on the street, selling their canvases right then and there. Some of them are quite good. Which would be awesome, if I actually had any disposable income to spend. Canal Street itself is an experience: it is basically a bunch of tourist shops selling "I Heart NY" stuff (I must admit, I did buy an "I Heart NY" keychain, so I could keep my room keys together) and a bunch of mostly Nigerian and Chinese people selling knockoff pretty much everything. If you are in need of a fake Louis Vuitton, let me know. Except not, as I will be a pseudo-officer of the court this summer (I will be interning in an office that prosecutes federal crimes), so I probably shouldn't be supporting or encouraging blatant patent infringement.

My first impression of New York was one of shock, and a little bit of disgust. Perhaps I have been spoiled by San Fran and Chicago (which, for all its other issues, is a very clean city), but New York is super dirty. Like, trash everywhere on the street, bags of trash just piled on street corners, and graffiti everywhere, particularly on those metal grate things they pull down after stores close. Some places are worse than others; Canal Street is absolutely gross in this regard, but West Broadway, Washington Square weren't so bad. And the subway. Omg. After 5 minutes in the station, I felt like I needed to shower right then and there. I try to avoid stepping in any liquid-looking things, as one can't tell if it is water or...something else. And this dirty feeling probably wasn't helped by the fact that it was like 90 degrees out today, and about 99% humidity, so I was permanently covered with a thin layer of my own dampness. Ew. But, after about a day, I got over my pristine-ness and the sometimes-grimeyness of New York doesn't bother me as much. And therefore, the city is starting to grow on me. I suppose in reality, it probably isn't much dirtier than Paris. The streets have a bit more litter on them, but the subways are about the same.

The interesting thing about New York, from my limited observations anyway, is it seems like people here are just generally more interesting, or at least have more interesting things going on compared to other places I have been. Perhaps my perspective is skewed by numerous TV shows and the fact that I arrived over a holiday weekend, but it seems like people here are always up to something, or always doing something, always seem to be engaged or going somewhere. There is a constant sense of busy and stuff happening. Even on Sunday nights. And yes, there is a bit more of an "edge" to people here. One of the first things I saw when I got to New York yesterday, was some guy dragging a cart just shove a lady out of his way because she was in his way. Nice. But, that kind of behavior has actually been in the minority. For the most part, people have either been nonchalant or actually nice. I think part of it might be positive reaction to my being polite and generally thoughtful; people seem to very positively react to my saying "please" and "thank you," moreso than in other places I have been. Maybe they aren't expecting it. Like, today I had to go to Nordstrom Rack because I noticed yesterday that a skirt my mom had bought me in December (I hadn't had an opportunity to wear it or look at it much, as it is a business skirt) still had the stupid security tag on it. I had called the Nordstrom info number, and was able to get the purchase info on the skirt to bring to the store, so I wouldn't be accused of stealing. Except that the lady at the counter didn't even question my story, and seemed surprised/appreciative that I had gone through the due diligence.

So, tomorrow starts my job. Today I did a "dry-run" to Brooklyn Heights, where I will be working, so I don't have to spent time tomorrow morning trying to find my way around as I get to work. Equals more sleep for me! The plaza with all of the state and federal buildings is pleasant; it has its own little park thing, and a lot of greenery. And it is not very hard to get too, thankfully. I did not have to make any transfers or anything. Very easy. I am so not looking forward to the subway at rush hour, during the hot an humid summer. I experienced hot, crowded, nasty subway commuting while I was studying in Paris, and I imagine it will be basically the same here, too. Ew. And I should probably bring an umbrella, because it might thunderstorm. I guess quick weather changes/surprise rain shouldn't really be a surprise to me as I have lived in the greater Ghicago area for five years, and it pretty much does the same thing. Still, one thing I have always appreciated about California, is the fact that for 5-6 months, it will pretty much reliably not rain, and we never really get humidity.

That's about it for today. Even though I have been to New York once before, it was only for a day and a half, and basically all confined to Times Square. It was such a whirlwind experience that it kind of exists as a blur in my memory, so I really feel like I am really experiencing this city for the first time. We shall see what tomorrow brings, and what this whole job thing is going to be about. Goals for tomorrow: find out where I can legally buy and register pocket mace (because as a solo lady in NYC, who will probably have to walk places after dark, if someone tries to mess with me, I want to be able to temporarily blind them. Because that is just the kind of gal I am.) and find out when, how, and how much my grant money will be getting to me, because living in New York City = burning money like its kindling (seriously, they weren't kidding about NYC prices).

Non serviam

Well, another exciting day at my parents' home in California. And by exciting day, I mean a day of uploading my mom's CDs to iTunes on her new iMac, and setting up the new printer, and just generally performing various IT-related tasks. I fear this is going to become a regular occurrence, even when I am not around, since my dad-- the usual household IT person-- doesn't know anything about Macs. Alas.

I alluded to this in an earlier blog post, but its reality seems to become particularly underscored whenever I am home: I *really* don't like being told what to do. And I pretty much try to order my life around figuring out ways to just "do my thing." Lately, for a variety of reasons, I have had cause to notice that everywhere one goes, it seems like someone-- who may or may not have the authority to do so-- is trying to tell everyone else what to do, how to think, how to act. Everything from at the personal level with my parents, to the macro level of, now legislatures want to start imposing a "fat" tax on "unhealthy" food. Seriously? Are you kidding me? It seems all one ever runs into are opinions-- as the saying goes, like assholes, everyone has one. But more than just opinions. People want to make their opinions, their own conception of "right and "wrong," laws-- as if they know others better than those people know themselves, and must make everyone follow what they think is right. That they know how to and must "save" people from themselves. A: it's not anyone else's job, responsibility, or really, ability, to save anyone else from themselves. I call bullshit. If someone needs saving, it needs to come from within, ultimately. And the essence of freedom, is the ability to make choices-- both bad and good-- and live with the consequences. Take away choice, even if just "bad" choices, and you take away freedom. I don't know-- maybe people don't value individualism or freedom anymore; it does seem like we are living in a more "collectivist" mindset society (which is also bullshit). But I value freedom, I value my ability to live and let live. I can't even think about it too much, because then I just get really pissed off. I start feeling more and more like a fricking hamster in a cage, with nothing but the wheel going round and round, unable to escape from unending meddling, unwanted "advice." Sometimes, I just want to scream. It just ain't living. And yet there is no escape, save for maybe getting on a plane to Vanuatu. Perhaps I am one of the last bastions of thought that puts a premium on the individual over the collective, perhaps I am part of a dying breed. Perhaps no one will agree with me. But seriously, where can anyone go anymore to truly be free?

I guess my whole life philosophy can be summed up in two words: non serviam. For those of you not familiar with Latin and/or Milton, its basic translation is "I will not serve." Which incidentally basically sums up why I don't follow any religion. But that is a very hard philosophy to follow in this day and age. Maybe it always was. Maybe for all the Enlightenment and post-Enlightenment talk about freedom, rights, and the individual-- maybe it really was all pipe dreams, maybe it really was a type of lie, or at least wishful thinking. Maybe true freedom never existed, and can never exist. Well, now I am starting to sound like Eugene O'Neill. Oh well. At any rate, I still want "non serviam" as an epitaph (and no, again this is not a veiled threat. I am just one of those weird people who thinks about things like this).

Or maybe I am just broody because in a lot of ways, I am not content with where I am right now, in life. I was flipping through a catalogue today called Great Courses, which is literally a catalogue of a term's worth of college lectures on a myriad of different subjects. Being the geek I am, I found like, 5 courses at least that I would want to order, just because they sounded interesting. I could learn cools things just for the joy of learning, without having to worry about tests or grades or any of that bullshit. Learning for the sake of knowing more, learning for the sake of curiosity, not as the means to some calculated career end. And then it hit me: yes, I really should have gone into academia. Not as a professor, but as a researcher, or a curator, or something involved in just learning, of gathering and keeping information. At heart, I am a bookish nerd. I like to study things, and I like to do it just to do it, and I am tired of it all being compromised by the other considerations of grades, class rank, etc.

In other life news, I got my summer job assignment. Sounds like it should be interesting; I got my first choice of division, and one can do worse than chilling in NYC for the summer. But what happens after? Still no more interviews, no job offers. Am beginning to lose hope. I really don't know what I want or need any more. I am very envious of those people who always knew what they wanted to be when they grew up. I was never one of them, I don't think. I also know now why I like history so much: my own life bores me to tears, I like learning about people who seemed to have interesting lives (it's why we know about them now), or thinking about societies long ago and far away, that seemed much more interesting than the one in which I now currently live.

I guess this post is a little depressing tonight, so I will end it. I guess I am in a broody, philosophical mood tonight. One of the "Great Courses" I wanted to take was on Existentialism, lol. I think being broody is an occupational hazard of being introspective, which I have always been.

As a parting shot, however, I came across this quote from Emily Dickinson. Although not at all really related to tonight's subject matter, it struck me as very personally relatable. So I thought I would share it with you all. Enjoy, and have a good night.

One need not be a chamber to be haunted;

One need not be a house;

The brain has corridors surpassing

Material place

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 Truth Shall Set You Free

Since outlining for a class is mind-numbingly boring, I am taking a sanity break and... adding a post.

So, actual life updates today.

First, I talked to my Mom today, after a week of not talking after the "big revelation" last Sunday. I don't know if we were actually not talking, or if we just didn't have any reason to call each other. It was suitably ambiguous. But, since I am flying home in less than a week, and since I needed to know things like their schedule (They are going to this retreat thing my dad's law firm does every year; they are actually leaving the day I get in [which of course no one tells me until after I book the plane tickets], but I was not sure when they were getting back. I felt like this was pertinent information to know). So I called my mom.

It was actually a very normal, civil conversation, not unlike most every conversation I have with my mom over the phone. I guess since a week had passed, tensions or emotions had cooled. Or something. Now that everything regarding my living situation and life-freakout was out in the open, I was actually able to have an adult conversation. And I found out a few things that I was not expecting, mostly about the boyfriend living situation.

First, my mom did not object to, or really question, my desire to move out of the Streeterville area (area right around school), which surprised me because they had been really reticent about my having to commute to school. But once I (calmly and rationally) explained that A) the entire area around school is becoming a construction zone and the noise from that plus the constant sirens (I live next to Northwestern Memorial Hospital) is grating on my nerves, B) that even just north of the Gold Coast and Streeterville, in Lincoln Park, I could get a 2 bedroom apartment for what this studio is costing me/them, and C) that I would be looking for places with pretty much direct access to direct lines of public transportation... she was just sort of, fine with it. And, counter to what I had thought, she didn't really say anything against the fact that I would be looking for a place with Justin. Her only concern was that she thinks we should get a two bedroom, and not for the *ahem* reason I would have thought: she was concerned that without my own space/room, I might be distracted from work if boyfriend comes home from work and starts watching television or something, while I have to work. Which is a legitimate concern, although a one-bedroom if the walls are thick enough should do about the same. And she sounded appreciative of the fact that boyfriend would be around during the summer to look at places, if I am not. And of the fact that now that boyfriend is out in the open, he can start paying rent, and thus cost them less money.

I asked Mom how Dad reacted to the news. He had known about life-crisis, but not boyfriend. I was honestly afraid how he would react-- how both of them would react, which is why I kept it a secret for a while. Mom said he wasn't super thrilled, but again for not the reason I would have thought: he is apparently worried that having boyfriend around, if boyfriend is free while I have crap to do, will be a distraction from doing my crap. Which I suppose is fair, but also easier to reason with: boyfriend may be somewhat of a "distraction" from work (except he often makes me do my work in an efficient manner, rather than lollygag on Facebook, so that we can hang out), the fact that there is two of us and we split the chores, means I have to spend less time keeping the place up, which frees more time for work. I cannot tell you how much time I have saved because boyfriend cooks dinner.

I felt bad because when I admitted that the reason I had not told my parents about living situation, was because I was afraid of what my parents might do to me (disown me, disinherit me, banish me from ever seeing boyfriend again... in retrospect, yeah I was a bit melodramatic), Mom sounded kind of hurt. Like she said she wished I knew them better than that. Which is 100% fair. Honestly, even though we've our differences in the past-- sometimes, pretty epic differences-- they have never not supported me or stopped me from being part of their life. I guess a lot of my problem, is that I fear, and expect, the worst-case scenario. In pretty much everything. Always kind of have, even as a kid. And I spend a lot of time worrying about and ordering my life such that I avoid the worst-case scenario, even if objectively, it is not rational to expect that the worst case scenario would happen. And in this particular instance, it was really hard (at least for me) to tell how "bad" this would be, from my parent's standpoint.

I feel like that early-20s, right-out-of-college, still-dependant-on-my-parents thing, is kind of an awkward dance. Neither party really knows what the other is going to do, think or say about something. It's awkward for me, because I don't really know where my asserting independence is crossing a line-- if there even is a line to cross-- and somehow spurning my parents. And I think it is awkward for them, I think, because they I think are trying to figure out what their role or what they should do re: me, now that I am "an adult." On some things I obey, others I don't; on some things they insist, others they don't. But it is unpredictable-- for either party-- to know when that will happen, or if it should. Basically, the early, right-out-of-college period is a time where the parent-child relationship is in a period of flux and redefinition, and it is...stressful. From my end of it, it is hard because it is a moment where I am trying to establish myself as an adult in the world, but am not so established that I don't worry about what my parents will do or say. I know several other people who are in similar living situations as I was in: either actually or de facto living with an S. O., unknown to their parents. I wonder how many of them would be surprised at their parents' reaction or concerns, if they told them. I wonder how many of us young-adult children actually know our parents as people, rather than as the specter of Our Parents. Perhaps that is what makes the difference.

So, I learned two things today: First, the truth shall set you free. It has been an enormous relief to get this in the open, to not have the constant stress and guilt of lying to my parents. And, now that it is out in the open, I was able to have a rational, adult conversation with my mom about what the most economical and beneficial living arrangement/location would be. That included my boyfriend. Second, people-- including parents-- will continually surprise you. You think you know someone, how they think and will behave in a situation, and that things will be awful. And then it isn't. And they don't behave they way you thought. You realize that you don't know them as well as you thought and/or didn't give them enough benefit of the doubt. That you should trust people more, should have more faith in them. Particularly about those who care about you: 99% of the time, they are just worried about you and while they may disagree, won't do anything that would irrevocably screw you over.

Second, the job hunt isn't going so well. I haven't heard from any places I have applied, and for some places it is getting on two, two and a half weeks. I sent email "checkins"/ I-am-interested-please-give-me-an-interview about a week after I sent the first round. Still nothing. I have to send some more tomorrow, and apply to this one other job I have been looking at. Boyfriend is pestering me to make check-in phone calls. Ugh. I know he is right, but I have had this life-long phobia of "cold-calling" when there is not an already established reason to call, or pre-established relationship between the parties. And to me, cold calling after submitting a job app doesn't qualify. Even when I was applying to law schools, I never once called. I only sent a lot... a lot... of update/I am still interested letters and emails. It seems like I am pestering people, and I have this fear of pissing people off on the phone. Completely crazy, I know. But since when have phobias ever been rational? So it looks like I will be in NY this summer after all. Which I guess is probably a good thing. If I am trying to get as much information as possible about what I actually want to do with my life, and about my options, I suppose it is probably good that I get into the day-to-day practice of law, to see a) if I actually like it and thus have motivation to slog through motivation, because I see something worthwhile on the other side or b) if I hate it and, "oh hell no." And, as much as I wish I could take a year or two, if I am honest with myself, it looks like I will probably be back for year 2 at the end of the summer.

I don't know... now that I am almost at the end of finals and have made a mental switch such that I no longer hold myself to an all-A(- as lowest),honors, top 10%, etc., standard, or just put so much importance on grades, the school thing is looking less bad. But I burned out harder than I ever have before...like to the point that I wasn't doing things I was supposed to be doing, and didn't give a shit. And I have kind of made that mental switch: I don't want to be perfect, or even "successful;" I just want to be happy, whatever that ends up meaning for me. And even if I do end up deciding that the law will do that for me, I am afraid I will be missing out if I don't take time off. I'm afraid I would be missing out on a time in my life where I could be a little more chill, a little less stressed, and have more free time to figure myself out, and to do things I enjoy, unencumbered by worries over what I *should* be doing instead. I'm afraid I won't get the time to figure out what I need and want, by just going through school. Because so much of school is about pushing through to the next finish line, not looking around at where you are going. I am worried that, even if I decide that the law is it for me, going through law school right into practice (which is stressful, always a deadline, many hours), I will never not have a period in my life where I was not a stressed out, type-A neurotic person trying to get everything done...at least until retirement, whatever decade that happens to be. And honestly, I think I will come to resent it down the line. In a way, I already do.

I think a lot my parents' generation, influenced by their parents', looked at the suburban home, the white collar job and high-five or six figure salary, the corporate and upper middle class life, and said "this is it." I think more people in my generation-- influenced, I think, by the promises (work hard, go to college, do well, and you will get a good job and be successful; you can do and be what you want) rendered largely false by the Great Recession-- are looking at all that and saying, "Is this it?" Happiness doesn't really depend on your salary, or job title, or what car your drive. Having a job that allows me to stay off food stamps, puts a safe roof over my head, and keeps clothes on my body, is all that is really required. Everything else is perks. Happiness comes-- and will only come-- when I find something that makes me want to get out of bed in the morning.

That's all for tonight.

One closing thought, though. Completely unrelated, but I saw a quote today that struck me as incredibly true. And is something I hope can ultimately be said about me.

"You have enemies? Good. That means you've stood up for something, some time in your life."

~ Winston Churchill

In the beginning...

So, I decided to start this blog, because I am in a period of transition. And I think a lot. And I am opinionated. And I like to share what is on my mind, come hell or high water. Basically, this blog is going to be chronicling my attempts to figure out, what exactly it is that I am going to want to do with my life, and what I want out of it. According to the three self-help books I have ordered from Amazon, this is my "quarter-life crisis." All of this takes place against the backdrop of my living the "young urban" life in Chicago, one of the three greatest cities in the U.S. (NYC of course, and San Fran will always have a special place in my heart).

But a lot has already happened. So instead of diving right in (because that would be confusing to you, the reader), first some background.

I was born and raised in the San Francisco Bay Area, in a town that was part of the massive suburban sprawl that is Silicon Valley, the name of which you probably wouldn't know if I told you. Actually did live in San Fran for the first couple years of my life, but I don't remember it. My upbringing was solidly suburban, upper-middle class.

When I hit 18 and graduated high school, I wanted to try something new, a new place. Much to the chagrin of my father, I didn't even consider applying to Stanford, because while excellent, it was literally a 5 minute walk from my high school. So in September 2007, I packed up my bags and headed east to Chicago (technically Evanston), and started four awe-some years at Northwestern University. I was an Art History and French major and, if I may say, damn good at it. Sometime in the middle of my junior year, after I had returned from 4 months in Paris, France, I decided that I wanted to go to law school. For a lot of complicated reasons-- my parents were both lawyers, I had become a much more political person, I felt like I wanted to go on a vendetta against criminals and terrorists, there was a lot of tie-in to my personal life philosophy, I thought it would be a good way to tie in my French major, if I could get into an international law position, and I figured I could travel a lot. So come fall of my Senior year, I took the LSAT and applied to (in retrospect, too many) schools. Got wait listed to way more than outright accepted or rejected (Yay combo of high GPA and 'meh' LSAT score). (Very) long story short, I didn't know where I was going to end up until July 29, 2011, about 2.5 weeks before orientation. For a while I was going to Virginia, then Boston...ultimately, things came total full circle, and I ended up back in Chicago.

So, I started law school. And I must say, my school does a very good job of making law school suck as little as possible, particularly 1L. No one razors stuff out of books in the library, and people are like generally pretty nice, even the "gunners." I actually met a pretty solid group of people in my section, and we became both study group partners and friends. Oddly, perhaps, I was more casually social in law school than I had ever been in college. I went out more.

But, I was still swamped in work. A lot. I never pulled an all-nighter for school until February-March of this year, and then I pulled like 2 in 3 weeks. Much to my surprise, I didn't suck at the academic side of it. At least not according to my first term grades... we shall see about this term. For a while I actually really liked it... the first semester was kind of a blur of collective 1L freak-out about what we were doing, how to do it, our grades... because honestly, no one had a clue. And in a way, it was kind of fun. We were all in the same boat. And then once I got my first term grades, I was over the moon. Did better than I ever thought I would, which increased my positive feelings towards law school.

But, towards the middle of the second semester, after the "holy shit I didn't fail" feeling from getting my grades started to wear off, some of the doubts that had been swimming in the back of my mind started to surface. Not about the law in an academic vacuum-- that was still interesting. More about the practice side of it.

First, I am an introverted person by nature, although have become less so at least among people I know. Particularly among people I don't know. Unless I have a stated purpose or easily-identifiable relation or reason to talk to a stranger, I find it very hard to strike up a conversation with people I do not know. Basically, I am not the person who will be going to a cocktail with a room full of strangers, and start just talking to everyone. I am more like the person hanging out by the food, trying to look like I have a purpose, and not awkward. But, particularly in today's sucky job market, one of the keys to successful launching out of law school, is "networking." Oh man, did Northwestern push the networking thing. With good reason, granted. I can't tell you how many networking events or workshops I went to, particularly during the first term. Granted, it was probably good for me-- I actually noticed an improvement and getting over the awkwardness of the situation. But I never really liked it. I guess I just got better at masking how uncomfortable I was, and still am, and "faking it". Like seriously though, what do you say to someone who is standing behind their firm's table with a bunch of "merch," when the whole point is to just walk up and start talking? Where do you begin. And I started to realize that, particularly to win clients, I would have to do much more of this. Granted, in a formal setting-- like where everyone knows the purpose of the meeting, to get a new client, and there are set expectations and boundaries, I am good to go, and am actually quite comfortable and chatty-- but eh, I started to become uncomfortable with how much networking seemed to be "a thing" in the legal field. I realize that in any field it will be "a thing," that I will have to learn to deal with it, but it just seemed to be a bigger thing here. And for a variety of other reasons, I started to have apprehensions about the business side of it, at least in the private sector.

And just generally, after the novelty of the first term wore off, I started to just get burned on school as school. I had never really had a break and done something else, and for the whole time had been pretty motivated and hard on myself to do well. I am kind of a serious person, and never really hardcore goofed off in college. I started really regretting not doing something "between pictures" for a year or two, as the vast majority of my peers had. It seemed to give them a real focus. And just generally, a break. Before Senior year, I had seriously considered taking a year and going to be an au pair in Norway. From summer jobs, I had experience in child care, and it seemed like a cool (no pun intended) way to see a new place and reconnect/discover my latent heritage. But, I was convinced out of it, because it wasn't a "real" job that would "look good" to law schools. In retrospect, I really regret not doing that.

But I digress. Anyway, I started seeing my graduated friends from college, who had stayed in the area and had jobs, and I started to become, and still am, envious of the fact that, by and large (with occasional exceptions that happen in every job), when they went home at 5 or 6 o'clock, they did not have to worry about doing work until the next day. Work was done during work hours. The weekends were free. While I certainly had free time, and don't lock myself inside studying 24/7, I envy the fact that they don't really have that voice in the back of the head constantly reminding me of the reading I need to get done and should be doing, or spending a fun Saturday with the knowledge that I will be in all day Sunday getting a CLR brief done. They mostly don't have to accomplish anything when they get home at night. I want that, and started to feel that, going from school to law school, to practicing law, I will never have that, not even for a year or two, as it is quite well known that lawyers work a) loooong hours at the office including weekends and/or b) take their work home with them. I have nothing against working hard-- in fact, I think it is the only way to work when you are working. But for just once, I would like that work to really be done for the day, at the end of the day, so I can just go home with a clean conscious.

So, the work started seeming tedious, and I really started losing motivation. I have had the "doldrums," as I call them, before, usually right before finals, as kind of a mental rebellion against the impending doom, but I always managed to get over it quickly and just "do" it, because I had an overall horizon goal I was getting to, and that I wanted. Here, for the first time, I started questioning if the "horizon"I was working towards was what I wanted, at least right now. I began to feel that I had been blazing along the path of what I thought I wanted, and just went go-go-go, without slowing down a bit to take assessment of my situation. And I started to regret it. I started getting behind in work, but it really stopped bothering me. As finals drew nearer, I studied, but hardly in a motivated fashion, as I just got so over the constant stress and pressure of grades and GPA ruling my life. I honestly was and am saying, whatever happens, happens. This from the person who spent much energy in college trying to keep up with the reading, did so mostly successfully, and when I didn't, felt super guilty about it. This from the person who, for as long as I could remember, had to hardcore rationalize with myself when I got a B+.

I also started to have doubts about why I was doing this in the first place. As I said, my desire to go to law school stemmed in a large part from my becoming a political person, and strong feelings about current events. Basically, I started paying attention to my surroundings, and didn't like a lot of what I saw. So, I thought going to law school and fighting the good fight, so to speak, would be a constructive and productive way to use this new found energy. But I started to realize that a lot of this energy was negative energy. I went to school because I was mad. Paying attention to the issues I wanted to combat, made me angry. Reading politics, made me angry. Now, as anyone who knows me would tell you, I am not afraid of conflict, and don't mind standing my ground and fighting, when necessary or warranted. But as much as I cared about the reasons that drove me to school in the first place, I started finding out that I am not one of those activist types who can turn their anger or indignation into positive energy for change. To me, it remained negative energy. And I noticed that I couldn't really "leave it at the office," either. I started to wonder if spending 60+ hours a week in an adversary system, fighting, would be healthy or happy in the long run.

None of this was helped, either, by the fact that somewhere around mid-February, my immune system decided to essentially stop doing its damn job. Since about junior year of college, I have had some ongoing health issues with my digestive track, and this last November, I was diagnosed with some sleep disorder akin to narcolepsy (sans the all-of-a-sudden, fall-down-right-there-randomly aspect) (I actually cannot remember what it is called; I probably should figure that one out). It started with the stomach flu, which I probably got from pulling my first all-nighter after a VERY stressful and FUBAR'd week to get a CKR brief done for class. So, I had stomach flu for four days, didn't eat solid food for three. Still managed to go to class, although getting work done (work I was already behind on due to the aforementioned brief)... didn't happen.

So, about a day after I finally got over the fricking flu, I started to notice that the area around my tailbone started to ache. Having banged up my tailbone before, I figured I just bruised it again somehow, although I had no idea how since I had spent the prior four days essentially lying on the couch with the aforementioned stomach flu. But, over the weekend (I distinctly remember this starting on a Friday) it got really, really painful, like to the point that I bought one of those neck rest donut things meant for long flights, and used it to sit on since I could't put pressure on the area without intense pain. I even kind of started waddling, because normal walking hurt. Finally, on the following Monday, I couldn't take it any more and got a doctor's appointment at student health services. I remember because the appointment was the same afternoon that Eric Holder came to speak. An actually important foreign policy speech that would have been much more interesting to me if I wasn't a point of being barely able to sit. Anyway, the doc at the appointment took one look at the tailbone area, and sent me down to the ER (the student health services is within the massive Memorial Hospital complex, I guess unsurprisingly). Without getting into gory details, I had an infection that had to be dealt with. So that took a few hours (actually for a big city hospital, I was duly impressed at the in-out time; I have waited wayyyy longer in most suburban ER rooms, which are in theory serving fewer people), and then I had to come back a few days later to the ER to get it checked. Fun! I had a brief respite over my two-week spring break, which was actually awesome. I went skiing with my dad and a college buddy of his, and while I was skiing (in Idaho), I felt healthier than I had in a long while.

Buuuuuut, that didn't last long. Within a week of returning to school, I had strep throat and a 101 fever. I missed 2.5 days of school, which I hardly ever do. I got over it with the antibiotics...or so I thought. About 2.5 weeks from first getting strep, and after like a week of feeling normal, guess what? I got strep again!! Yay! And of course, I was coming down with it on the day of my first final, for Con Law. I managed to get through the test, although I think I was starting to get feverish towards the end (sorry prof. if the last third of my exam doesn't make sense or is highly rambling... not my intentions). By the end of the day I had a 102 fever, and the next day headed back to the doc for more drugs. And again, I spent 2.5 days essentially in bed. All of this, of course, after having survived all of elementary, middle, and high school and college, and countless numbers of those "your child has been exposed to strep" notes schools send home, without contracting strep. So of course it hit now. So, in addition to being mentally exhausted, I was becoming and am literally physically worn out. Did not help my general outlook on law school, or school in general, because the last thing you want to be worrying about when you are huddled on a couch with extreme nausea, or sweating out a triple-digit fever, is the work you are going to get behind on, and wondering/debating if you can possibly pull it together and make it into class for the day.

All of this sort of came to a head over Spring Break, even before the strep attacks. One night after skiing, while my dad was asleep, I wrote down all my thoughts and doubts and frustrations on paper, mostly for myself. I just needed to get it out. It had been swimming in my head for weeks, it needed to come out. After the first bout of strep, I finally became like totally over the school thing, and really needed a break. In a moment of severe frustration, I sent the thing I had typed and saved on my computer over break, to my dad (after having cleaned it up considerably... the first version used the "F" word quite liberally). I then spent the next couple weeks talking over my frustrations and concerns with my dad, basically saying that I think I need to take a leave of absence from school for a year. Mostly to a) give my body a rest and hopefully get my immune system to function again, which is hard to do in the high-stress environment of law school, b) take time away from school, because I just can't deal with school any more and doing the whole school/homework/class/test/paper/grade stress thing that I have been doing essentially for the last 12 years non-stop (elementary school doesn't really count), c) give me time and some distance to figure out what direction I want to go in, to see if law is really that direction, before I pour any more of my future money (through government loans for tuition) or my parents' and aunt's money for living expenses into this endeavor, which is not inconsequential. If it were just me... I would feel less bad. But I hate...hate the idea of wasting other peoples' time and money, particularly of those who care about me, who have supported me, and have been super generous with supporting my education. My dad was not receptive to this, though, and essentially advised me to put this out of my mind until after finals, because it is a "distraction." Although we were able to have rational, calm conversations about it. I initially made the decision to not speak of this with my mom because I figured it she wouldn't approve. And since my mom and I are both very stubborn people who can become entrenched when arguing, I figured it would be hard to maintain a calm and rational conversation, so I just didn't want to go there.

I told my dad that I had been speaking with an administrator at school; I know she is a professor, but she also has some kind of administrative title. I don't know what it exactly is, but she is the one who runs all the workshops they sent us 1Ls to during the first term, to learn how to brief cases, outline for the test, and write timed exams. She also meets with 1Ls, and essentially is the one to talk us down from whatever N00B law school cliff we are at the edge of.

What I didn't tell him was that I had already been applying to actual real-people, full time jobs. At this point, I have probably hit about 20 applications. When I was having my "come to Jesus" moment during Spring Break, I thought about what did make me happy and interested. I have always been a huuuge history geek, particularly ancient history. I became obsessed with Ancient Egypt when I was 10, after the Prince of Egypt came out in theaters (in retrospect, "Egypt is awesome!" was probably not the intended moral of that story, but whatever). In college this morphed into interest in art history and visual culture geek-outing. I took up the major after I found I had a knack for it, and actually became quite interested in how art and cultural production, reflects the people creating it and the society in which they operate. It is like a window into another world. I started spending more time in museums. I wrote a lot of research papers, which I really liked doing. I liked that the research was multifaceted; not just reading books, but looking at images, sometimes in person. I was able to hardcore geek out on my Senior Thesis, which was about a (very) niche area of ancient Egyptian art. I really liked it, but I also knew that I did not really want to become a professor. I like research, but I know myself, and I am not a good teacher, and never will be.

So, I started to think about museum work. Curating and related research started to really make sense to me; I looked it up online, and was astounded to find that there actually were jobs...more than I thought. They all required Masters or PhDs though, so I thought about applying to grad school instead. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that no matter what I decide to do, I need to not be in school right now, and need to take some time to figure which path will be best for me. So, I started applying to jobs I thought might help give me some insight. First I applied to a bunch of jobs at the Art Institute, the Field Museum and the Oriental Institute at UChicago. Some of the jobs I was more qualified for than others, so we shall see. But, knowing I really needed to get out, I also started to branch out and apply to mostly administrative jobs either at other local non-profits (local theaters and cultural organizations), and academia type jobs at various institutions here. They all sounded very interesting, and I thought I would be qualified for them (in varying degrees), and they all were in rather academic or cultural settings, which speaks to my interests. So far no interview requests yet, but I will keep my fingers crossed. I really want to work. My plan so far is essentially, if I don't get any job offers, go back for a second straight year of school. If I do get an offer, take time off for awhile, and reassess my situation. I feel like to take this kind of a big step, I need a job lined up that is more than working as a waitress. I need a job that gives me a "feel" for things, otherwise taking the time is pointless. For the summer anyway, I am slated to a legal internship in NYC. That should be cool, at least, and will give me good context for law school vs actual doing law, and what I think about it.

Anyway, the most recent update, is that this weekend, the shit finally hit the fan with my family about all this, and other more deep-seated issues. Some backstory: I live with my boyfriend, who I met as a freshman, and we have been going out since the end of that year. He works in the city. Initially, he had is own room in an apartment with some crazy roommates, on the Northwest side of town. It took him 40 minutes to get to my place, which is downtown. He pretty much just ended up staying 98% of the time with me, overnight and all, because it was just a more pleasant arrangement for all involved. After several months of this, I finally told him to stop wasting the $400 on the apartment he was never in, and move in. We had kind of been keeping this up because we didn't want to "officially" move in, because my parents (who are paying for the place as school living expense)most definitely wouldn't approve, for a variety of complex reasons. I was afraid of telling them-- I was afraid of getting in trouble, of getting my boyfriend in trouble. And I wasn't sure what would happen if I told them. So, keeping my boyfriend's apartment seem less like we were concealing *actual* living together. But, it was stupid and an economic waste. (NB to any conservative types reading this, yeah yeah "living in sin" blah blah, I will get to my whole "being my own master" section in a bit; judge as you want, I don't actually give a damn). So, for the months he has been living with me, I essentially acted with my parents like when he was over, he was "visiting."

Well, anyway, you know how I said I am going to NYC for a summer job? My mom, quite legitimately since my parents are the ones paying for this, said that she might want to come out and use the place as a "pied a terre" to hang out in chicago while I am away. So, for the last three months, I had been stressing profusely about how I was going to get my boyfriend's stuff out (including now a piano), and make it seem like he didn't live here full time. My boyfriend travels a lot for long periods of time for his job, and starting tomorrow will be gone for 6 weeks. So this last Sunday, I was running around like a crazy person, trying to intricately plot which of his things could stay and which had to go, so I could plausibly claim he didn't live here, in case Mom actually did come out. I tore the apartment apart, which is filled with his books, his movies, his music. It was nuts. I was being completely paranoid. And in the middle of the madness, I had an epiphany: this was bullshit. This was the kind of stuff you see on stupid ridiculous sitcoms. I shouldn't have to hide the fact that my boyfriend is living with me. I was doing it to please and placate my parents. But I am not a wild crazy person, I don't go out and "get crunk" every night, in fact I pretty much never do. I am not involved in drugs or anything illegal. I am actually a fairly calm and responsible adult, capable of making my own decisions, and I shouldn't have to hide a meaningful part of my life from my parents. I realized that I am in fact an adult, albeit an admittedly young and inexperienced one. I realized that as an adult, instead of spending my time worrying about pleasing or disappoint other people-- including my parents-- I need to start worrying about not displeasing or disappointing myself. And I realized that, I need to start drawing the line in the sand, where parental (or really, any person's) advice becomes just that-- advice, preference, and not dictates or mandates.

So, I stopped in the middle of what I was doing, picked up the phone and called my mom. I told her first that I had a couple things to tell her, and that she wasn't going to like them, but I am going to do my thing, and needed to tell her. I first told her about the living situation. It was hard to tell on the phone how she reacted, because she was surprisingly calmer in tone than expected. Maybe it is a sign of some minimal adult parity that we didn't end up in a huge emotional argument/shouting match. She seemed less upset about it than I thought-- only asking if he had been paying rent. I said no, truthfully. Like, how would I explain to my mother-- who can see/has access to the joint account where I keep my moving expense $$-- why all of a sudden only idk, $1000 was coming out each month, and not the full $1300 (which reminds me, rent is due. Need to pay tomorrow). She seemed more upset about what I told her next, namely all of the stuff about school/job described above, which I had only discussed with my dad. I told her I met with the 1L administrator, and that my plan was to take a leave of absence if I could find a good job in the city; if not, I would go straight through to my second year. And that was the plan, and I am sticking to it. She, unsurprisingly, was not happy. There really isn't much more to say, because the conversation kind of just went in circles from there.

Later that evening, though, I found out something that did NOT make me happy. At all. So, both my parents have their own email accounts-- dad at work, mom from Yahoo. But, the family has a joint email account of sorts that we set up literally when I was 10, from our ISP. I literally was the one to pick both the email name, and the password. Because everyone now has their own personal email address, it doesn't get used much-- when it does, it is basically just my mom who uses it for sending certain emails to people. But, everyone still has the password, it is still technically "joint." I got curious whether my mom would be angry at Dad for not telling her about our prior conversations about my future, etc., and send him an email demanding to know what was going on. So, I signed into the email account.

Mom didn't email dad, but...wait for it... she DID email the counselor/administrative lady that I had talked to about taking a leave, as I had mentioned on the phone that I had talked to her. She emailed her to check in on my "situation" because she was "concerned." Are you kidding me? Seriously, are you freaking kidding me? This is not high school, I am not 14, and you do NOT need to call my school, behind my back, to check in on me. I am 23 years old and in pre-professional school. Many of my peers are in their 30s. I am not a child who cannot handle my own problems, and I feel very, very, significantly violated that my mom was being this intrusive. Sorry, but I am trying to make informed rational decisions. I think I might take time off from school, not that I might go join a prostitution ring. I don't think you need to call my freaking school. What is worse, apparently the admin lady referred my parents to the Dean of Students of the freaking law school, and they BOTH talked to him on the phone (which he relayed to me in an email on an unrelated matter). Literally, there are no words. I was unsurprisingly, pissed. I still am. This is a huge violation of my privacy, my space, and frankly my autonomy as an competent individual. I sent my mom an email-- which my boyfriend vetted as respectable-- admitting I read her email to the school, and that I felt extremely intruded upon, and that this was NOT appropriate action by parents of an ADULT child. The response was somewhat condescending, and I won't get into it here. She said something along the lines of, "we were only trying to find out your options about a leave of absence, can you be readmitted, etc etc." Which I obviously had already asked all about when I went in to speak with the admin, and could have just answered if she had asked me.

I am still actually very upset and angry about this, as you can imagine. Like, I haven't spoken to my Mom or Dad since Sunday, and honestly, unless they call I probably won't until after finals. I am supposed to fly home next Wednesday to visit for a couple weeks before I head to NY, but honestly I am starting to feel really uncomfortable about it. Because this little episode has shown me that, at least facially, my parents don't yet see me as competent adult. Despite my high achievement in school, my general level of responsibility, the fact that I am living in an apartment in a major city, and the fact that I never once got into any of the "bad stuff" growing up, it seems my parents think I still need protecting. I am sure they would protest, but as the cliche goes, actions speak louder than words.

I understand that this all comes from a good place-- my parents have generally been supportive of me, and help me out in immense and innumerable ways, and are just worried about me and don't want me ending up under a bridge or something. I get all that, and I really do appreciate it, and what they have done for me over the years. I very rarely wanted for anything, really. They just don't want me to make an irrevocable mistake, and think the best course of action is to stay the course. Their heart is in the right place, but the execution is all wrong. Yes, I will always need their advice, and will turn to them. But at this stage, their input is-- or should be anyway-- just that, advice, which I either take or don't, to my ultimate benefit or detriment. There is a difference between "If I were you I would do X," but also acknowledging that it is my ultimate decision, and mine rightly to make, and phrasing things as a command like "Just do X," or "Do Y," or "You must do Z." And checking up on me like mom did, that crosses way too many lines I can't even count. As I explained in my email to my mom, what I need as an adult child is advice, not protection. There is a difference, and it needs to be respected. What hurt me the most about this whole thing, was that I got the sense that they don't respect me as an adult. With them, I am stuck in perpetual childhood (or, probably more accurately, adolescence). That I am not seen by them as a competent adult, even after graduating with honors and latin honors, even after persevering my way into a good law school on my own initiative, that hurts. A lot. It is upsetting not to have your parents' full respect. The worst part is, I don't know why. I don't think I have ever really given them a reason-- beyond maybe some stupid small stuff from high school-- to think I am foolish or incompetent. I have generally been successful and mundane. And they often speak of how proud they are of me. But this episode, and the response from my mom that, since I am thinking of slowing things down a bit and reevaluating my situation before I go on, contrary to what my parents think is best, I am now "my own worst enemy," as per the email, are showing otherwise.

This whole episode has actually made me more determined to get a job and get financially independent before I finish school. Right now, since the 'rents are footing some of the bill, I do feel some kind of obligation to "tow the party line," even though intellectually I know I shouldn't really have to. But I feel that financial independence is and will be the only real way to severe the final umbilical cord, as it were. I feel like it is the only way my attempts to draw some boundaries will be respected. The only way that I can live without having to fight to validate my choices and my existence. To not be invaded in my existence. I love and do respect my parents, but I don't know how else to get through to them that the nature of our relationship has to change and evolve now that I am an adult. That is the natural order and progression of things, and it is frankly weird that they are still being involved at the kind of level exhibited above.

So, that's pretty much everything up-to-date. The beginning of my foray into the "quarter-life crisis" and my attempts to make sense of it all. In regards to my parents, eh I dunno what the current status is. I haven't spoken to them since Sunday. Other than the brief email exchange between my mom and I on Sunday, no email communications of substance. But, mom had emailed me a couple of the chain email things she gets, which is pretty normal. I did email my dad about something-- forwarding him something stupid and political that we can both agree on, and asking his opinion. So far no response today. I have noooo idea where I stand with him. He knows about the law school thing, but didn't know about all the applications, and the boyfriend thing. Will be interesting I am sure. Will keep you posted.

Signing off for the night...because it is actually morning now 0_o