Little Girl Dreams

Like every white, middle class blue-eyed blonde, I spent my childhood daydreaming about my future in terms of 2.2. and the white fence.  I logged countless hours agonizing over my future husband (Mr. Perfect, of course), our house (big but not too big, and a garage), our dogs (2 bassets, of course), our kids (two rowdy boys)...our everything.  All I could think about was my life in the future, and that future only came with a man and a family.  I defined myself around that dream.  It was the only way I could envision myself in the oh-so-scary future. 

This pattern of dreaming persisted well into my teenage years...and dare I say, into my early twenties.  With each new boyfriend, I would tell myself that he was "the one" and I would start picking out paint colors for the master bedroom before we even dropped the L-bomb.  Eventually, each relationship fell apart, and my WASPy dream would get recycled onto a new Mr. Perfect.  Until, one day, there was no Mr. Perfect.  My life was man-free.  No one to dream of a future with, no one to plan around, no one to consult about paint colors. 

And then the most amazing thing happened:  I was happy.  I stopped daydreaming about a future I couldn't control, and I found a present I could embrace.  

In all those years--from four to twenty-four--that I spent planning my life around "the plan," I forgot to ask myself if there might be something more fulfilling than living my life around a hopped-up, hyped-up, tired old dream.  What would happen if I only factored the one person I knew I could rely on, ME, into my future???  And then, the truly scary realization came:  Why do I keep living for "one day" when I could be living this day.

Tonight, I grabbed a fast dinner at a not-so-upscale place , and I saw an attractive forty-something woman eating alone.  (Two important notes:  1) I eat dinner out by myself occasionally and I manage not to feel pathetic or lonely, but I'm not crazy about it, 2) She had salad, I had fries.)  But this woman had a smile on her face.  She wasn't cowering her shoulders, hoping no one would witness her single dinner.  She wasn't pretentiously reading a book to make herself look studiously alone.  She didn't even touch her cellphone.  She sat and enjoyed dinner, quite happily, by herself. 

Five years ago, I would have pitied that woman.  I would have sent her a mental hug and hoped that she found someone soon.  Tonight, I completely surprised myself.  My first thought upon witnessing Ms. Single's dinner, was "I hope I'm that happy eating dinner alone at 40."  It's hard not to be jealous of someone who can make a Wednesday night dinner at a fast food joint a happy occasion. 

Throughout all those little-girl daydreams, I never considered the possibility that I could make myself happy.  I never had faith in my own abilities, and I never slowed down to consider if there were other things than marriage and a family that could make me smile and be proud.  But once I realized that there's a great big planet out there, and that I get airline miles with my credit card, there's nothing more I want than to fly around a experience it all.  I want to have a career that means something more than a paycheck, I want to travel, I want to read a thousand different books and then some, and I want to spend every possible second laughing.  And there is no reason to put off those things until "the future," when I could be doing them now.

Maybe someday I will end up with a Mr. Perfect and children and maybe even a garage.  But if I don't, I know I'll be just fine.  Better than fine.  I know that I will be happy, because I've promised myself that, from now on, I'm living my life for me, pushing my own boundaries, and I'm not wasting any more time waiting for someone else to come along and make me happy.  I've figured out how to do that all by myself, and I feels pretty damn good.      

You can't always get what you want...

...but sometimes you might just get what you need.  (Thanks to Mick Jagger for giving me the title for this post)

It's finals time, so naturally I'm in a constant state of panic, stress, hunger, more stress, hyperventilation, trying not to cry, and sheer panic.  Of course, law school rules mandate that you never, ever, admit these feelings.  It would mean that you're not as naturally brilliant and successful as the other 140 people in your class.  So I turned to a non-law school friend to confide in, who also happens to be the only person who understands my pre-finals induced psychosis.  I called the REB.

And on Friday, a very sweet little package arrived, overnight, from Amazon.com.  Although it may seem like a cruel trick to send a girl her favorite DVD during finals, he's the only one who knew it was just what I needed to get me through it.  Even though he wasn't always able to give me what I wanted in a relationship, he definitely knows how to be there as a friend when I need it. And that's more than good enough for me.

A day in the life...

Inevitably, we will all make bad decisions in life.  My most recent bad decision was taking a class called "Secured Transactions" this semester.  Don't even ask me what that means because I still don't know.  Needless to say, it's like listening to a banker with a bad lisp explain linear algebra in Mandarin.  

It goes without saying that studying for the Secured exam is a challenge.  Either my ADD is in overdrive or my subconscious is reminding me that I am not cut out for this type of material.  At any rate, I'm finding it impossible to concentrate on the material.  So far, my day has gone as such:

1. Wake up at 5:30 a.m. during earthquake; have visions of dying alone.

2. Finally get back to sleep at 7 a.m. after cleaning up Lucy's "I'm so scared" potty.

3. Get out of bed at 8 a.m., attempt to make myself semi-presentable...and give up on that after several attempts to comb my cowlick only results in a unicorn horn.

4. Head to Panera with good intentions of learning all about something called Priority, which is actually a veiled excuse for getting a cinnamon bagel.

5. Read exactly 5 pages of the ABC's of the UCC:  Article 9, talk to my recently-engaged-friend on the phone, share earthquake stories with my L'ville friends, and get 4 coffee refills in the 2 hours I spend at Panera.  

6. Head home, make and eat lunch, and switch to Con Law.  Amazingly, I've read the entire Equal Protection Clause section of my outline in the 30 minutes I've been reading it. 

Moral of the story:  I have an aversion to any type of law that involves money.  Remind me not to make this mistake again.  

Soul Mate v. No Mate

I have never been one to believe in soul mates.   I just don't buy the concept that destiny propels us toward "the one" and only person who is right for our choice of life mate.  I don't think there is just one person, "my other half," who can bring me a lifetime of happiness.  In short, I don't believe that someone else can "complete" you.  That's right, folks, I'm calling Jerry Maguire a liar. 

But two things have caused me to re-evaluate my view of THE SOUL MATE.

First, one of my very closest friends got engaged!  I could not be happier for her, mostly because she is fabulous, her fiance is fabulous, and I know she's not the type to be bridezilla so we can still stay friends throughout the wedding planning hoo-ha.  Truly, I'm thrilled for her.  Is her fiance her soul mate?  I don't know her view on that.  But I do know that he makes her happy, and that's good enough for me. :)

Secondly, I've been watching WAY too much Sex & the City.  I can't explain it, but it's a major player in my finals-studying routine. (I've always been a master at tuning out background noice, and I even think the act of tuning-out noise helps me concentrate better.)   Perhaps I've seen all the episodes so much that it's easy for me to tune them out.  At any rate, it helps me study.  I turn on Carrie & the girls, and get down to work.  Recently, I've been watching the 3rd season, when Carrie cheats on Aidan with Mr. Big.  Mostly, I can't stop thinking about how Carrie had the "perfect" man for her, and yet she couldn't shake Mr. Big. 

Now y'all know that I have my own version of Mr. Big--a guy who hasn't always been there for me, but dammit, I just can't shake him.  So does that make him my soul mate???

My answer is still no.  I still don't believe that there is just one guy out there for me.  If I had the chance to travel the whole world over, I might easily find 20 guys who are "the one."  I think that there are certain things we fall for--certain looks, smiles, philosophies, goals, sense of humor--that attract us to particular types of people.  If we're lucky, we make a connection with someone that is so intense, we can't describe it.  We get high on the bond we form with someone who is so much like us, yet still kind of a mystery.  Sometimes, the bond is so powerful that we dare to call it LOVE.  And if we just can't shake our connection to that person, we call it a soul mate.

The fact that I can't shake my personal Mr. Big doesn't make him my soul mate.  It means that I have yet to meet someone that I have that kind of bond with.  Or maybe it means that no one else will put up with me.  Or maybe I don't want to make another bond.  But it does not, in any way, mean he completes me.  If I never need a man to complete me, just put me out of my misery and remove me from the gene pool.  On my own, sans man, I am perfectly whole.  As a single woman, I'm happier than I've ever been.  

Perhaps I am my own soul mate.  I only need me in order to complete myself.  And my Mr. Big? Well, no one ever said extras were a bad thing.

 

Rebel With a Cause

I would never, ever, use the term "rebel" to describe myself.  For my entire 25 years, I've followed the general rules in life:  I didn't drink in high school, I went to a good college and studied hard, and I've never even had a speeding ticket.  

Not to say that my life has been boring.  I've had my share of wild nights (oh tequilla!) and adventuresome moments (bridge jumping at 2 a.m., singing at The Stage, and etc.).  I'm happy with the way I've lived my life.  In many ways, I haven't followed the traditional rules:  I'm 25, I'm not married and have zero prospects of being married, I don't have kids, I don't have a career.  I'm just saying that I don't make a habit of being a rule breaker.

I've been thinking a lot about why this is.  And I've filtered it down to two main reasons:  1) I don't like getting in trouble, whether it's with a friend or with an authority figure, and 2) my biggest fear is that I'll disappoint my parents and family.  

While that doesn't sound like a lot, realizing this has been very liberating for me.  

I certainly don't plan on breaking the law (I am going to be an attorney soon), but I'm also realizing that some authority figures are not worth bowing down to.  For example, one of my major regrets in life is that I never stood up to a former boss of mine.  For obvious reasons (this is the world wide web...of gossip and backstabbing), I don't want to go into details, but I do wish I had stood up for myself and what I thought was the right thing for our organization.  Note to self:  Next time, have a backbone.  Believe in yourself and your mission enough to stand up and defend your position. 

But I know I'll always want to please my parents and family.  I have an abnormal fear that I'm going to be the screw-up, irresponsible child.  So I do what I'm supposed to in order to keep the familial status quo. Until now.  At 25, I'm rebelling:  I'm going to Chile for two months to live, work, and travel. 

Now, for most folks, this is probably not a big deal.  In fact, many families encourage these types of activities.  But for my family, this is probably not the best "life choice."  Not that I hold anything against my family--quite the opposite.  I love them for their Midwestern pragmatism and ultimate value in our family.  I also want to clarify that my family is not "small minded," provincial, or unadventuresome.  We just don't really do the study abroad thing.  Too far, too scary, too far from the family (we are all very, very close), and why live somewhere when you can go on vacation...with the whole fam.  So, my 2 month stint to Chile is raising eyebrows, to say the least. 

I'd be lying if I didn't agree with some of their concerns:  It's expensive, yes.  I don't proficiently speak the language. I don't know a single soul there.  And I've never been away from my family for more than a month at a time, and even then they were only 150 miles away.  I would be pulling the wool if I didn't admit that I will probably cry at some point because I miss them so much.  But I just can't get past what I'm gaining. 

A chance a fluency.  Realizing a life dream by going to a country I have always dreamed about. Reading Neruda...at Neruda's home.  Seeing the second highest mountain range in the world.  Visiting the southern-most city in the world.  Traveling up Matchu-Pichtu.  Working for an international non-profit.  And on, and on, and on.

So I've finally found a reason to "rebel."  So what if I'm 25, and this isn't really a rebellion.  For me, I'm breaking the ultimate rule:  I'm doing something my parents don't entirely approve of.  And that makes my sad in a very deep place in my heart.  But it also makes me feel wild, reckless, and young.  More than anything, I know that this is the right choice for me.  

I guess I had to grow up in order to rebel.  

In Her Shoes...Wish I Was!

This time of year always makes me with I had the strength of Toni Collette in "In Her Shoes."  In the movie, Toni is an attorney who quits her job as a firm associate and takes up dog-walking instead.  

Toni, I wish I had your strength, because I'd love to do that right now!

Finals time always makes me wish I was doing something else with my life.  90% of the time I appreciate my legal education, and deep-down I know that a law degree will benefit me in my career. But for 2 weeks in April (and 2 weeks in December), my mind starts to wander toward all the other careers I wish I'd chosen. 

When the weather is gorgeous outside like it has been this week, I do wish I had Toni's job.  I love dogs, I love to be outside, so bring on the dog walking.  

Mostly, I daydream of working for the Travel Channel.  Samantha Brown doesn't have anything on me!  I'm convinced that my voice is less annoying than hers.  I would really care what my job assignment was, as long as I got to travel all over the world.  I would almost (ALMOST) do an Andrew Zimmern and eat weird foods.  ALMOST.  

At any rate, I would be the happiest girl in the world if I could have my own Travel Channel show.  I've thought of a few spins to pitch to the TC folks, but if anyone has great ideas, pass 'em along!

Until then, I'll be walking dogs with Toni Collette...

Hot Spot

I've just discovered the biggest benefit to the location of my new apartment:  FIREMEN.

Yup, that's right.  I live a block from a fire station.  You might think this is annoying because of the sirens, etc.  However, I haven't really been bothered by sirens at all.  And it does make me feel good that if my 110 year old home burns, the big hoses are just a block away.  

But who even cares about all that?  Every day at 4 p.m., the most GORGEOUS and buff men run right by my house.  In fact, one offered to help me with my groceries the other day!  They run by in a little pack...smiling...mmmm.  Wide shoulders, athletic, and braves danger every day?  Um, yes please!

I'm living every girl and gay man's dream!  Come on over ladies and guys!  We'll class it up and put lawn chairs out and drink wine while we wave and bat our eyelashes.  :)