"[M]asochists who feel pride in rising above impossible odds”

Its a funny thing, when you've maybe thought it all along, but when you actually admit that not only do you have a masochistic streak but that it is undeniably thick.

I'm afraid of what admitting this might mean as far as how people interpret me, but today was just too uncanny not to point it out.

Because two completely seperate conversations in a matter of hours is one of those brick walls you smack right into where the anwser is written right there. Well the anwser isn't quite there, but as much of an anwser that exists, I suppose, is.

Here's the second convo., just for crazy's posterity sake.

thats it. it must be. thank you peter hall. even if every so often i create my own impossible odds.

and its not always me. dont misinterpret this.

Call It Corny, BUT

They're full of a little thing called TALENT






I make no apologies should this turn into a regular feature.

Favorite New Poem

I know I promised some of you the whole text of this a while ago, but something I read today especially reminded me of it.

I thought I only had room for one favorite poem, but this one bellies up right next to it. I suppose I've got two. The more I think about it, the more the two are mirror images of each other in life's twisted reflection. I'll type up the other later.

I presume my contorted affinity for this piece is because it is exactly how I'll be at 32 if I don't stop it.

Lawyers on the Left Bank

So this is me at thirty-two, the strange dream seemed to say:
the lawyers order coffee in a louche Left Bank cafe
and read their menus carefully, and sit extremely still
while all around them lips kiss, fistfights rage, and glasses spill.

What they are doing in this rowdy tavern is not clear.
It's obvious they are not prudes, for after all they're here.
But in this topsy-turvy room where tables serve as beds
and tarts are jumping out of cakes, what thoughts race through their heads?

Perhaps they harbor fantasies of trading in their suits
for clingy leather bodices and sleek stiletto boots;
perhaps they scan the revelry and contemplate a fate
where working hard is not the solemn foe of playing late;
or maybe they just tease the air with legions of small sighs
and burn holes in the carpet with averted bedroom eyes.

------------------Rachel Wetzsteon----------------------

I Admit, I'm Biased

"An art song is a vocal music composition, usually written for one singer with piano accompaniment. By extension, the term "art song" is used to refer to the genre of such songs. Aficionados of the genre consider art songs (when written by composers who excel at text setting, lyrical vocal lines, and beautiful, supportive accompaniments) to be among the highest forms of art, unsurpassed in sophistication, subtlety and dramatic truth."




Also, I've got these hung in my apartment and love them. "Rivals" and "Flapper". Beautifully Telling.
{well, maybe propped against the wall for a few months, but someday to be hung}

Some Strange Entente

the last time i saw you
it was red hair and pink beds
sly smiles behind all we knew
and always left unsaid

and its all just headaches with hangnails
goodnight and goodmorning
goodmorning goodnight

a disregarded month, a forgotton week, a misspent hour
all adding up, tossed aside together, collectively joined:
a demon that steals the wind right out of even the prettiest sails

living in someone
i can't quite recognize
shes even begun to show
something like death behind the eyes

goodnight and goodmorning
goodmorning goodnight

A Glorious Missouri Spring

And lovely random text messages from a best friend of the prettiest of the first spring flowers makes a girl's day, even if she isn't around to see it for herself :-)

oh how I do love tullips. they are my favorite in ground flower.

L&L Final: "Law School Blawg"

Advice to entering 1L students:

You’ve watched the television shows, you’ve read the John Grisham novels; for the most part your entire perception of the law and law school to date have revolved around what has been gladly handed to you on a tray of popular culture. Law school is not as awful as Hollywood portrays it, nor is it as glamorous. Classes are not as scary as The Paper Chase makes them out to be, but will not be as easy going for you as they were for Julia Roberts in the Pelican Brief. Granted, I am not finished with law school yet, but I have yet to meet an Atticus Finch. I have also yet to meet an Al Pacino devil-like character either. Remember that for all the flack lawyers receive as the butt end of jokes, as wicked portrayals or glorious figures in the media or culture (whether present or past), it is all derived from some semblance of truth: a truth which many people do not properly take with a grain of salt. You must. I would say forget those notions, but it is impossible. Law school is less about the law, and more about who you were, are, and become as you relate and comprehend and process it. Remember also to take what I say with that aforementioned salt. If there is any advice worthy of passing along as you prepare to enter into your first year of law school, it is this:


Take the summer off. Don't even pay attention to the 'suggested reading' list. It cannot and will not help you. The best it will do is make you more anxious than you probably already are. This anxiousness doesn’t give you an edge-it is just detrimentally distracting. Travel to Europe. Have sleepovers with your Grandparents and stay up late with your siblings. Spend the time with your friends even if you think you are too tired after work. Go to barbeques and pool parties. Visit all of the tourist attractions your city has to offer. Go sit in the field you drive by on your way to work everyday but have never stopped to enjoy. Take pictures. Many, many pictures. Close your eyes: make mental notes of how your best friend's voice sounds, the smell of your mother's perfume and your dad's hair, what its like to give the perfect present, how the sun feels on your face and what your hometown's air smells like. Remember the way you feel when someone tells you why they love you. Listen. Remember the "why", it is important.

Orientation is daunting, even though the school believes they are giving you a proper welcome. Listen closely to what everyone has to say to you (there will be many people talking at you) and promptly forget every word.Trying to remember what got them through law school, and what to do and not to do, and how to outline and read and prepare for class is a surefire way to spin your already reeling mind into convulsions.


"Do"s and "Dont"s do not exist.
The only thing that exists is you. You got here because you deserve to be here. You have successfully navigated the world thus far, and you will successfully navigate this one. This is a different animal, but to buy into the over processed hype of “shoulds” and “shouldnots” and the panic that exudes from your fellow classmates is certain suicide. It will be difficult to forge your own way and not succumb to the pack mentality.


You will have at least one professor that has the distinct dialect made famous by Charlie Brown's grade-school teacher. There is nothing you can do to understand him or her, and it is highly unlikely meeting with them during office hours or after class will provide any benefit. You can try, but as soon as you realize that, you'll be better off teaching it to yourself than working yourself into a sweat over the meaning of "is". The same goes for getting explanations from classmates. The way they understand it in their mind is not the same way you need to put it in your own.

Expect nothing and rely on no one. But always make an effort to be friendly, to smile, to stay after class and chat, even if it is only about how horrible everything is, because that is the only conversation you will be able to sustain for the first great while. But moment by moment, person by person, you'll draw the human they used to be to the surface. Through it all, be kind. You don't know who else is breaking and in desperate need of a smile. Be honest. This is not the place for cheating and side-dealing. The people who behave this way always get the same in return. Karma does still exist here, if not more so.

There will be days when you wake up and know for certain that you must either cry or throw up, and the two sensations will have never felt so identical. You have never and will never feel so alone. People at home love you, but for whatever reason they simply cannot understand; some will never fully grasp how much you need them and their silence will hurt the worst. People here understand but cannot stop to breathe, much less to love someone. And you can't understand why you've decided to subject yourself to this, because the end doesn't seem to justify these means. Whatever made you come to law school doesn't cut it anymore. And the debt might just be what keeps you going, because to turn back isn't financially responsible, so you sacrifice your mind and personality. You are shell of your former self. You were amazing, flocks of people loved/counted on you: you mattered. You were interesting, had stories, and laughs, and midnight loves. That’s the funny thing about shells, it all looks deceptively the same, but your personality has written a Dear John letter and left it pinned to an empty wall.

For an unfortunate moment you will be lost, a stranger to yourself, and desperate to feel something. Remember those pictures you took of your last summer? The smells? The way you felt? The reasons people love you? Its all still there, and if you try very hard, you can almost feel the sun on your face.

You will prove to yourself what you are made of. And realize things you could never let go. The fact of the matter is that you are who you have always been, even if slightly tweaked here or there. You were never lost, you just had to look a little harder to find yourself.

You successfully navigated the world before enrolling in this beast, and will successfully navigate this new version of this strange world. Because you brought yourself here, all on your own, and as time passes, the end slowly begins to justify the means, once again.

Be kind to those around you. Be kind to yourself.
Listen with trained ears.
And do not be afraid to not take anyone's advice.
And that's the best advice I could possibly offer to you.

Take it with a grain of salt.

Tounge Tied and Oh So Squemish

everythings only half there half thought of half remembered and all these pieces keep getting jumbled.
getting pretty tired of it.

palm of my hand keeps itching. i can only hope the wives tale comes true.

"oh dead.
did you get what you deserve?
if life ain't just a joke, then why are we laughing?"

at this point laughter is right at the brink of madness and i simply can't contain it or stop. then its right back to the poker face, a mask of intensity covering apathy and whatever the exact extreme opposite of that is, with plenty of boredom and loathing mixed in for good measure.
my cheerfulness suprised even me today. i know you didn't have a good weekend or a good day today, and i don't know why i don't stop asking.

The Procrastinator's War

My exterior is calm and nonchalant
And yet, my insides ARE SCREAMING.
I'm almost to the point of caring.

Where she watches, by her golden perch or her sapphire throne.

Summer.
Thats where you should find me.
In the Summer of the year, summer of your mood, summer of our lives.
Summer's firefly eyes and sun induced sighs.
Through the haze of the heat and the weaving wavelengths of light,
where the cut grass mixes with the sounds of children playing, and birds calling your name.
Where the song the cicadas sing tells the sun its time for bed, and to kiss you with the final rays of daylight before the moon bathes the world in silver.
Thats where you should find me.
Because the harsh summer sun, isn't really that at all.
She's just a fellow wanderer, whose mind may pick you apart, but only to love you, and to know how to catch you should you fall.

I wouldn't trust a halloween romance anymore than I'd trust a bar-room marriage. I know the sound waves are bouncing around; I wish you would hear me.
But thats the kind of advice that just floats aimlessly around, because though everybody sees it, no one would dare reach for it.

If you'll take one thing, I hope its that to step outside that which you know, that which you've never changed, if even only to slide a toe across the line, you'll start to understand why you need to shift. Just to find the sweet spot; the sweet spot between here and there and what you used to know, and what you've always known but forgot to hear.

EARTHQUAKE!

I missed the Earthquake today. When I was very little I felt a tiny tremor from a tiny little seismic bump in our fault. No one believed me until the news reported it, but I was indeed right. All growing up in Missouri schools they told us about the New Madrid fault. Its not very active but one day, they told us, one day it will be. I've been waiting for that day my entire life. When California was having its bout of problems with their fault, this only spurred our school system to increase their teachings on what to do in a quake: videos, pamphlets, drills, you name it. Of course, I never wanted it to be as huge as those CA suffered from, I didn't want anyone to get hurt, but man was I ready for the day our Madrid would give us a full sneeze instead of a hiccup. AND I MISSED IT. So dissapointing. Apparently I've lived through a hurricane. A hurricane that did not produce one single drop of rain. Boo. This doesn't make up for missing the world around me shake. "Swear to shake it up, if you'll swear to listen". Well, dear Missouri and Illinois, I was listening. Oh well, my best friend called until I woke up this morning and whispered into the phone "i'm sorry to wake you, but we had an earthquake!"--if you would've heard it as she said it, you'd laugh too. I guess her mom didn't believe her when she woke her up, which made it even funnier. I called my parents and got their renditions of the event, which too brought laughter--laughter that brought tears; so it wasn't all bad or a total loss...it was a nice way to wake up, even if the world wasn't trembling around me.