Generational Wealth or Knocked up

Many corporations focus on low cost endeavors that allow for short term gains to please shareholders and raise stock prices. Plans that involve high cost but long term gradual gain are often put to the side even though the gains might be far more over time.

That said, I wonder sometimes if people don't do the same things with their own relationships. With the marriage rate decreasing and the divorce rate increasing it appears that most people like to bank on short term gains than try to keep the long term going.

Last Wednesday, two day before I got married, a friend of mine advised me that I should not get married at all. He said that one should get married for two reasons only: 1) Generational Wealth; 2) Because the woman is knocked up. If that was the only reason people got married then the divorce rate would be far higher.

Maybe because I am a newlywed I am saying this, but I really think the long term benefits of marriage are great. Being alone sucks; and if you can find someone willing to put up with your crazy, then that should be reason enough to marry them. Just saying ...

Orange Laundry Rooms

When I was growing up we had a laundry room off of the garage which was painted orange inside. Not a soft orange, but a bright orange that was shocking to look at.

The laundry always was a place of discovery. One time my brother and I went and found a cat in the laundry room. We named in Cherry and kept it. Another time my brother and I found a snake in the laundry room. My mom had to call my aunt Tink to come and get it.

I had all but forgotten the laundry room adventures until I heard the Avett Brothers' song Laundry Room. All of the sudden the color, the childhood joy, the smell of the room, and the mystery of it came all back to me and shook me with its force.

I am scared I am forgetting my childhood at 26. The child in me is the part that I like most, and I am afraid that when it is gone the stark, serious adult in its place will bare little resemblance to the little girl who thought everything was an adventure.

Tubes and Things

I am 26 years old, and am already contemplating how to get out of the rat race. After spending a weekend on a lake in Indiana with M and some friends, tubing, boating, swimming and enjoying the country life, I am wondering if I am doing things all wrong. I have only this one life, and I am spending it stressing out and trying to accomplish unseen goals. Not only do I try to accomplish too much in too little time, but I neglect my family and loved ones while trying to push past the person next to me in a race leading nowhere.

As someone who is 26 and has already had ulcers and the shingles due to stress, I am beginning to understand how a slower pace of life might not be such a bad thing. In fact, I think I might not be able to really survive a fast pace.

In the end, will it matter if I have the best job, as long as I have a job? Will it matter if I have the biggest home on the best piece of real estate, as long as I have a home? Will it matter if I have the brightest kids going to the best schools, as long as they are healthy and have strong moral compasses?

It is amazing how little I am beginning to want all the materialistic things I used to dream about. Increasingly, I am wishing for a more simple and peaceful life.

Rant

Ok... So I need to seriously rant. If I hear one more person talk about their high paying firm job, and how much they are enjoying their summer, I am going to hit someone. Not a gentle slap, but a punch right in the jaw.

I am working 2 jobs and doing journal work. Meanwhile, I am trying to get my fiance to help me with wedding stuff, when all he wants to do is sleep on the couch, watch TV or go out and drink. I am up to my ears in work. I am trying to remain cordial to everyone around me, but there is only so much I can stomach.

I spend a good amount of my day listening to others complain about things. Whether it is my co-workers or friends, there is only so much of everyone else's problems that I really want to hear, especially since I do not burden anyone with my own (except said blog).I want to tell my co-workers to bugger off and stop complaining to me everyday about the coffee. It really is not that important, and if you don't like it then bring your own. As for friends, I wonder sometimes whether any of them are worth it. I act as a shrink to most of them, yet I hardly ever get sincerely asked how I am doing. Furthermore, while I find myself giving so much to those around me, I hardly ever get much reciprocation.

To say the very least I am fed up.

Living in a kind of daydream

I am burying myself in fiction novels. I read all night, getting little sleep. I sit with M while he is watching TV, and stare at my kindle as if it contains life's secrets.

I know my own life is passing my by as I read about other people's lives; however, I sometimes find my own life rather mundane. While I go out and drink and dance with friends on the weekends, I am low on adventures lately, and it is no one's fault but my own. I picked my profession, and continue to follow it. If I am bored, then it is because I am being boring.

I want change, excitement, movement, noise, anonymity, and vitality. Currently, I sit in an office 8-5, reading documents and inputting information. I need to vamp things up, otherwise, I will be stuck living out my dreams through characters in books.

Puddy Cat

Laying on the desk, her life seems perfect. She sleeps all day, wakes up to eat, and occassionally comes over to me for some love and attention. When I pet her too much or too little I get bit. If I am late coming home, she seeks revenge by somehow messing up the house. Her name Puddy Cat. Her Profession, being completely cute yet untouchable.

My M says that the cat is like me, and our dog is like him. Our dog Griffin, is sweet, goofy, and good natured. While Ms. Puddy is anything but. I wonder what he is trying to tell me.

Sordid Lives

Sometimes I think back to my southern family and wonder what I would have been like had I stayed there. Would I have a baby on each hip, or would I be on the same path? Would I be a southern belle, member of a good standing sorority, graduate of Alabama University and upstanding member of my church, or would I have graduated high school and married some cute boy?

Such musings while useless, nevertheless occupy my mind when I am alone in my home in bufu Champaign IL. I always wonder how I got here. I can trace the steps, however, I am sure that I will never figure it out completely. Sometimes I am sure that there is someone up there pulling the strings, and other times I cannot imagine such a grand possibility.

Que Sera Sera . . .

This year seems like a turning point for me. Twenty-six seems so much more substantial than 25 did, and certainly more important than 24. This year I am getting married! This year I will settle into my own, and will pretty much permanently move in with my M. This year, I am officially getting old.

Looking back, I have certainly had my fun. I have partied, have traveled, have lost myself in Europe, have lived on my own, have lived on the beach and on a farm (kinda), and have definitely grown up a bit. I find that I love who I am now much more than I did when I was younger. In fact, I think I am getting better with time. I have begun to settle into my own skin and enjoy it. I have learned how golden silence is, how precious happy moments are, and how lucky I am to have experienced all that I have.

To my crazy single party days I am saying goodbye. I am saying hello to a loving kind man who knows me inside and out. I am saying hello to my new family consisting of M, myself, and our cat and dog. I am saying hello to nights in the Chi with my M, and our long and happy future together. I am saying hello 26! While I don't know exactly what you will hold, I am ready for ya.

Breakables

I break things. I break things regularly, and with an absolute sense of completion. Whether it is due to me being clutsy, or whether I just have a natural ability to immobilize and destroy I do not know, nor do I really want to.

My ability to break things has been a constant in my life. When I was a child, my mother never let me go into stores where there was glass on display. It was as if my presence inside the shoppe itself would send all glass splintering in opposite directions. When I was older this trend continued, however, it began to permeate into my relationships with people. It turns out that I am just as good at breaking people and consequently friendships, as I am at ruining stemware.

I have broken friendships and personal relationships with such veracity that one of my exs mentioned to me that he was going to start a support group. I responded to him that if he needed it, there was some crazy glue in the top kitchen draw, and that I expected him to get himself together and leave. (I cannot always be nice. Especially not with exs.)

One hitch I eventually discovered, was that I am incapable of breaking things of quality. I have yet to break a dyson, a viking stove, a subzero fridge, quality crystal, or anything made of solid wood. On the flop side, I have broken fridges, vacuums, stemware, and several beds, desks, and tables (not made of solid wood).

This quality mantra likewise, extends to friends and boyfriends. While I have gained and lost many friends, the ones of quality always seem to stick around, and for that I am eternally grateful. I find that you often get what you invest, and things of quality might cost more, but they are always worth it. There is no one better than a quality friend whom you can rely on.

Additionally, I have yet to break my M. In fact, I find that he has had the uncanny ability to curb even my most destructive side. He is such a big guy that he just hugs me to him until I am done fighting. That is nothing short of genius. From the begining he has subscribed to the idea that engaging me was not worth it, and that he would just wait until I cooled off. This is probably why I am marrying him. Oh, and the fact that he always replaces the stuff I cannot help but break. In fact, he is buying me a dyson to replace the regular vacuum I recently broke. Someone should cannonize the atheist.

Anonymous Ex Pat

Recently I have been wanting to run away. A highly mature emotion, I know, and one which speaks of an inability to handle problems; nevertheless, I am a hairsbreadth away from doing it. The more I think about it, the more I want to just hop on a plane and not tell anyone where I am going.

I thought Mexico would excise this bug that has crawled under my skin, unfortunately, it has not. I still have this awful itch to run. The only thing stopping me right now is M. I would hate to leave him behind. No one makes me laugh like he does, and I find that he is often the needle in my compass directing me home. If not for him, I would undoubtedly leave. As no job has yet found me, and my summer is virtually open, there is no better time for me to jump ship! A waitress job in Barbados sounds a lot more fun than one in Chicago, doesn't it?

Mexico Moments

There is a saying that you really never know a person until you travel with them. While, that is certainly true, I cannot help but point out that most people don´t change that much no matter where they are. While I am enjoying myself in the sun, sand and tequila, I cannot help but feel like I left the most important person at home. I miss my M. My friends are great, but no one can even compete.

On a lighter note, Playa del Carmen is hands-down the most beautiful part of Mexico I have been to. It is simply beautiful, and I can imagine myself planning many trips here in the future. The people are nice, and even though it is touristy, it still has a true Mexico feel. The condo we rented looks out over the ocean, and I have made a habit of sitting in the hammock every morning enjoying the view. Life is undoubtably good.

why am i here

In the past couple of months I have forgotten why I am at law school. I forgot that I came here to learn a skill set. I forgot that I came here with goals. I have been so "poor me" about not getting a job, I have forgotten that it is not about getting the job this summer, but getting jobs in the long run by knowing information that is useful enough that others want to pay me.

I need to get to work. I need to figure out what I can do that would be the most beneficial for me this summer and make me grow the most. I must reevaluate some things.

Crushed

Maybe I am being irrational, but I am absolutely crushed that two of my closest friends cannot come to my wedding. If this was any other event it wouldn't matter, but I am just crushed. I wonder if I chose to do it in Chicago or California if it would have made a difference. While I want to be understanding, and I am to a point (especially since one is pregnant) I cannot help but be irrevocably upset about the situation.

It is strange how the leaves fall and the wheels spin sometimes.

liebe es etwas was man gibt und nimmt

Love is something man gives and takes. When I was a child in Germany my Aunt Vida handed me a little round metal box to place my hair ties in. On top of this box was a picture of a young man and woman with this saying above their head. The saying was simple to translate in German, and was one of the first German phrases I learned.

Since then I never forgot the saying. Although it is terribly cliche it has always struck me as true to the core. Growing up as an adolescent and dating in my twenties, I partook in my fair share of give and take. Despite the numerous times I was sure I had fallen in love, in hindsight I never experienced a balanced exchange until I met my fiance (MML). Although we both have rather serious job paths (he is an engineer and I am studying to be a lawyer), when we are together we revert to being two children in a playground sharing toys and giggling. He is absolutely shameless, and goes to any extreme to make me laugh. I, on the other hand, have to do little to make him laugh as he finds most of what I do funny (mainly because I am a natural klutz).

There has always been a tangible balance in our relationship. He gives, I take and adore. I am so happy that he gave me something that I just have to give him something too! Before him, I was always hesitant to trust others and to give any part of myself away. He taught me, through sharing, to trust. By being kind to me, he taught me to believe in others again and effectively chipped off my hard outershell. I am unsure whether he was concsious of the fact that he was disarming me through kindness, but either way he played it off so smooth that I have never really cared to ask.

My MML showed me how to give and take by example, and no matter what happens in my life, I will always love him.

Blessed Roadburn

Since getting engaged, my fiance and I have adopted the most engaging puppy dog on God's green earth. He is a cute, clumsy, and energetic labrodoodle whom we could not love more. This afternoon as my fiance was taking out the trash, Griffin (our doggy) ran outside behind him and got hit by a car. I cannot tell you the gambit of emotions that surged through me when I heard he was hit.

After several hours in the emergency room with him, the vet discharged Grif with 4 bottles of medicine. He luckily did not break anything, however, he is severely bruised and has bad roadburn on his belly where he was dragged. Additionally he has some soft tissue damage to his knee which we will have to watch out for. Overall though, he is okay.

When I was 5 I was hit by a car while in Germany with my mom. Like Grif, I was bruised with a couple of scratches, but overall okay. Doctors said I was lucky, and that an angel was watching over me. I cannot help but think the same thing about Griffin today. My Big Guy is going to be fine by the grace of God. Thankful hardly expresses how I feel.

Ode to my love for Cindy Sherman

I just watch 15 minutes of a documentary made about the life of Cindy Sherman. This little wispy blond woman from New York puts on prosthetics, wigs, make-up, and what ever else is necessary to change her image so that she can accurately create parodies of human beings. I have been a huge fan of hers since the 1990's when I saw her exhibit at the Art Institute as it travelled through Chicago. I was 15 at the time, and heavily into "the arts," and completely picked up all that Cindy was putting down. The images are striking; each layered with commentary about the human parody she has created. Truly impressive.

I want to go to MOMA in New York just to see some of the art that they featured in the documentary.

I urge those who have not seen her work to check it out.

Update.

I did not get managing editor. Although, I licked my wounds with a bottle of wine and the Ru Paul Drag Race, I am still upset. I really wanted that position, and while I know that Articles editor is a great position, especially because I am an amazing sales person (thank you Nordstroms, Casa Del Flores, Alfred Sung, Estee Lauder, and Animation Creation), I still cannot help but be pouty.

I am guessing that my self imposed glum is all for nothing, and that in actuality I am blessed with my position and will be happy in it, however, I just hate when I build myself up and get knocked down.

How happy is a clam really?

Nervous hardly describes my current mood. Just conducted my first graded CFI client interview, and had the client completely clam up on me! She would not tell me a thing. She just sat there and looked at me. When I asked her questions, she simply gave one word answers. I tried to make her comfortable, but she just would not divulge information. In hindsight, I should have probed. I should have been more forceful with my questions, but I wasn't and I just know I did not get the information that I should have gotten. Well, I guess I can only go up from here.

My mind has now turned the corner, as I have one last big event today. My speech for managing editor. It might be terrible for me to say this, but I honestly think I would be the best person for the job. If there is one thing I am good at it is organizing events and people. While there are many other competent people, I can honestly say that I have a nack for working with others and helping them manage tasks. Likewise, I am an event planner by make and mark. Putting events together, and getting them to run smoothly is something I pride myself on. Furthermore, I enjoy doing it. There is nothing as gratifying as when you plan something, you work hard to see it through, and then it goes off without a hitch. PERFECTION! Let's just hope I am able to eloquently express this to the voters, and that I don't clam up like the client I interviewed earlier.

Wish me well!

Dinner for two?

I was a really chunky kid growing up. I weighed a lot more at 11 than I do now. I fought long and hard to get thin and to keep it, however, I still have serious food issues.

For the second time in 2 weeks I have gone on a tirade regarding food. My fiance ordered a bunch of Chinese food for dinner and ordered only items that he liked without regard to what I was going to eat for dinner. While this would be more understandable if he did not know me or my sensitivities, it is absolutly inconceivable given that he does.

Phrases like "You ordered nothing for me because you are trying to starve me on purpose;" "Have I gained that much weight that you don't want me to have dinner?; "Why are you being so mean to me?; "This is our first meal together in a week, and you don't even consider me;" and "You have sharing issues!," abounded all night.

While he picked up the phone to call in an order for me it was too little too late, both in terms of dinner and the fit I was pitching. I refused to let him order me food, and continued to pout all evening. Suffice it to say, I know I blew it out of proportion, but when it comes to food I admittedly have problems.

I am a size 2 now, however, I constantly think I am large. Thus, when someone forgets me at dinner time, I have the most irrationale emotional response. I immediately think they are trying to get me to not eat because I am big. I take it personally, and fly off the handle. Crazy, I know, but I cannot help it. I end up with an inferential chain like the following; I have gained too much weight; I am huge; he doesn't know how to tell me, so he has just decided to stop enabling my eating habits.

Healthy, no?

I guess I am the model for rational behavior.

"The Secret" to a job??

Okay, I have decide to follow the advice in the book The Secret. I will imagine myself in a high paying job at a law firm and attract such a job to me.

Hopefully, this works. Just in case I am taking advice from Stuart Smiley, and sitting in front of the mirror and repeating "I'm good enough; I'm smart enough; and dog' gon' it people like me."

Feeling the energy flow...... need a summer associates position.

Underwhelming Truth

There are times in life when it all appears too shiny. Like cellophane wrapped candies that no body could possible digest. At these times, is it best to talk about it or not?

I used to say something, but all it ever gained me was trouble, for no one wants to know that which lies beyond the shiny. Today I fake it. I am all shiny, all the time. There are not even seams anymore. Hell, I am becoming a lawyer; and all lawyers do is spin things in their client's favor. While that is a great task, it admittedly does have an element of disengenuousness to it.

I tell the truth, as lies are far to hard to keep track of, but I am a chronic omitter. In fact, I advocate omitting things. I tell people all the time how no one ever needs to know all your secrets. I tell my girlfriends never to tell their "number" to anyone, much less their boyfriend. I told a friend after she told me she cheated, to just not tell anyone else, especially not her boyfriend, as it would only hurt him, which is true. Furthermore, if she does not want to leave him, what is the point? I also do not talk about my family. I told my fiance nothing about my family for three years, and only told him hours before he met them, their names.

I tell the truth, just not the whole truth unless asked a pointed question. The truth is not liberating. I would argue, that it is in fact rather constricting. The less we say about ourselves, the greater rein we give to those around us to think highly of us. If everyone knew everything about each other, there would be no one to idolize.

Often times when the pretty clothes come off there are stretch marks and cellulite, and who wants that?

Thats Why God Made Mexico

Several years ago I went with my brother for one of the best vacations of my life. We sat in the sun, drank tequila and stayed at the Ritz club level. I'll never forget it. Even though I got sick at the end of the trip, I enjoyed it so much that when anyone mentions going back to Mexico I have a hard time saying no.

I am happy to say that I am heading there again, this time with law school friends. While I have nothing to run away from, I cannot wait to leave the icy Midwest, and escape my reality. No more school, no more dressing in layers, and no more responsibilities; just a lot of sun and beach. Thank you God! I am, however, just a little worried about going with people from law school given that laws students party hard and I am not a fan of the Mexican legal system. Wish us luck!

Baby on the way!!!

My nearest and dearest is having a BABY!!! I am so excited! I am going to be an auntie! Well... not by blood but by love (cheesy I know).

I never thought that she would be the first to have kids, but I have to say that child will be incredibly lucky to have her as a mom. I cannot think of a more caring or loving person.


I AM SOOO EXCITED !!

Birds do it .. Bees Do it .. Even educated fleas do it . . .

Love. I have a new obsession with Millionaire Matchmaker. I love watching people go on first dates, especially when they have a ton of money to throw at them.

Worst first date ever on the show was when a guy who owned this junk business, decided to test his date by taking her on a junk pick up. Ugghh!

Best first date was when the guy flew the girl to Vegas just for dinner at a fabulous restaurant (soooo Pretty Woman).

The whole premise of the show is setting rich people up on dates with normal (although extremely attractive) people in order for them to find their b'sheirt (soulmate). Patti, is a third generation shadchen (matchmaker), who has a natural ability to say it like it is, and make romantic connections.

I just love that she is jewish and that I want to sing Fiddler of the Roof every time I watch that show. Also, my yiddish is getting much better, which is good because I am a Shiksa (non-jewish woman) marrying a jew (a non-religious jew, but a jew nonetheless).

Anyway . . . I can't think of a better way to clear my brain of law jargon than to watch two people act awkwardly while on an amazingly extravagant first date. Maybe it is the escapist in me, but it is awfully nice to get at least my mind out of the icy Midwest and on a sailboat in the Pacific.

That said, I must get back to my reading. Thank you for the break.

Handbags and Gladrags

Oh, to be stylish again. When I first came to law school a year and a half ago I had "it." That glow that comes with having nice clothes and a ton of confidence. While I still have the confidence, the handbags and gladrags are several seasons out of style and losing their color.

So what becomes of me when I am stripped of my goods? Well, a little too much self reflection (and most recently this blog). I never thought of myself as a materialistic person, but I also never said no to a shopping trip. I just never could help myself. Now, however, I have to. With no job lined up for the summer, a wedding to plan for, a trip to California for my friend's wedding and a possible trip to Las Vegas for her Bachalorette, I am in it deep. No more Bluefly even.

This is nothing short of humbling, but I guess I needed it.



P.S. Now that I am humbled, is there anyway we could restore the funds?

Intuitions and Dreams: My Hippie Rant

Sometimes I feel like we all ignore our intuitions. We get these gut feelings and then quickly ignore them as something far more interesting comes along. These little intuitions nag at our subconscious no matter what we do, and the harder we try to ignore them the stronger they become. Unfortunately for all us who tend to evade signs, these little gut feelings which try to point towards certain truths, always tend to be right.

Malcolm Gladwell in his book Blink, provides an explanation for these "intuitions" we have. He explains that parts of our brain carryout the function of "small slicing" actions in ways that other parts don't quite comprehend, but that nevertheless send a signal of some type of information to us.

The book, is quite convincing in its assertions, however, I still believe there is more to it. Maybe this comes from my religious side, but I believe that these gut feelings have more to do with our souls than anything else. Certain actions we take seem to burden our souls, while others seem to lift them. It seems that when we make decisions that go against what is best for us our very being tells us that we have gone down the wrong path and vice versa.

The women on both sides of my family are incredibly intuitive. My mother "reads" turkish coffee grounds, and is usually dead on when it comes to predictions. Likewise, my Dad's mother, who was as Christian as Christian gets, could literally look at a person and read them. While, I do not have the abilities of my mother or grandmother, I do feel like I have a strong sense of other people and a strong sense of self. My "intuition" leads me down certain paths all the time, and I try not to ignore the signs that it sends my way. When I have vivid dreams I take them seriously and try to decipher their meaning. Now, this does not mean I go out and get dream books or anything of the sort, all it means is that I am putting in the effort to tap into my subconscious, which cannot be a bad thing (can you tell I lived in So Cal).

Bottom Line

You gotta go with your gut. For some reason we were given these little signs, and it would be an absolute pity not to use them. Not listening would be akin to having the perfect blouse on, deciding that you should go with another one because "that's what everyone else will be wearing," leaving your house, and realizing that in your effort to fit in you chose something that made you look frumpy. At that point you have to suffer through an evening, and all that can be said for your troubles is that "it was your own damn fault." In other words, trust and validate yourself and your nagging subconscious.

NOTE: This rant is not meant to encourage gambling.

The egoist in me finally decided that it could not survive without a blog, so here I go . . .

I need a cathartic outlet to rant and rave. While I am generally a sane, polite, nice, and put-together woman, I sometimes get way too in touch with my inner crazy. For a while I had the bad habit of blogging on different websites about every restaurant I went to. Unfortunatly, I had to stop this, mainly because I can no longer really afford to eat out as I am now a heavily indebted law student. Nevertheless, the egoist in me loves to here my own voice, even if it is not aloud. Thus, here I go . . .

Recent Moments to lament:

1) Going to law school when I had a steady job (now broke & indebt with no job prospects. Love it!)

2) Leaving California for the icy Midwest (this is mitigated by the fact that I met my fiance here)

3) Deciding that I could wear high heels today even though it was icy (I have a nice bruise to show for this one)

4) Not taking full advantage of the after New Years Sales (this is mitigated by the fact that I could not honestly afford to)

5) Gaining about 5 lbs in winter weight when I am suppose to be trimming down so I can go wedding dress shopping

6) Spending an insane amount of money of books I could have gotten at the public library

7) Not having a job lined up yet for this summer even though I got good grades last year and was a teacher's assistant last semester


Recent Moments to celebrate

1) Getting engaged to a wonderful man who does not mind my eccentricities

2) Deciding where and when I am going to have my wedding

3) Going for the salad this evening instead of the Jambalaya (this was a huge struggle)

4) Buying and fixing up a loft with my Fiance (okay... so, he bought the loft and did most of the fixing, while I picked out colors and furniture)

5) Having my brother talk to me over lunch for the first time in months

6) Still fitting into a small

Bottom Line

While I am cold in the Midwest, broke, unemployed, and bruised, I am doing pretty well. I just have to keep reminding myself of that fact because this time of year it is always hard to see the sunlight in dark situations.