Gender

Yesterday, I watched an Oprah show about the gift of fear. The most interesting part of the show was when the author of the book, "The Gift of Fear", made this assertion: "Men, at their core, are afraid that women will laugh at them. Women, at their core, are afraid that men will kill them."

Needless to say, this caught me off guard. Could it be true? As a woman, I can agree with the female side of the comment. But I had to find out from men if the other side was true. I chatted with my friend M., who's been a male buddy of mine since, golly, like 2000. When I asked him, he said that the male part of the assertion was true, but he couldn't comment on the female part. That made me think, "Was this really true?"

I talked to my friend W. about this. She and I decided that we're not sure. Her job tonight is to ask her husband. The more men we can find who will weigh into this issue, the better. We also determined that there is a lot more going on in gender relations than we realized. Women can be very angry at men. Men can be very angry at women. The question is, "Why?"

So, for all the men who read this, please answer my question. Is it true that a man's core fear is that a woman will laugh at you? And women, is it true that your core fear is that a man will kill you?

An Open Letter

Dear Writer's Guild Strikers and the Strikees,

Please find a way to come to an agreement. Please get over the dick waving contest that's going on and realize that not only are you hurting yourselves, you're hurting those who aren't union and still need to work. And lastly, but not leastly, you're hurting us, the viewers!!

Seriously. The strikees need to know that if there cannot be a compromise, Americans will turn to TV's worst nemesis - books. That's right! Get your act together and figure this out!

The strikers need to be sure that the end is worth the cost. Spending too much time being right means you'll eventually be unemployed.

And if I have to watch another 2-hour episode of The Biggest Loser, I'll start sending campaign contributions to TiVo.

Privacy

I was just reading a blog that B. recommended to me. This young lady was lamenting her loss of memories. I just had to comment. As a person with no memory, who has a father with beyond-elephant memory, I wanted to share my experience. I can't say anything without my father having a story about a time he did exactly the same thing. In detail. Excruciating detail. And then I get, "Don't you remember?" Well, no, dad, I was 6. I don't remember large parts of my childhood. Honestly, I consider that a blessing. A little gift from God, if you will. If I remembered everything about growing up, I wouldn't be bitter and funny, I'd be bitter and...I'd be my father. So I'll take the lack of memory.

(Oh, the privacy thing was that when I commented, I had to leave my email and it became publicly available. That's weird for me to do.)

The Bar, continued

You know, I'm really have sixth and seventh thoughts about the bar. I'm roller-coastering about whether I want to take it again. Today I was talking with B. about getting everything ready and about studying when it occurred to me that it's really, really boring to talk about getting all the paperwork ready and studying for the bar. I mean, it gets old, and I'm beginning to see just how self-centered I get when I study for the bar. I turn into this selfish icky person who cannot seem to comprehend that other people have lives and issues.

I don't like that girl.

On the other hand, I was looking through a list of local law firms, and I saw some attorneys who made the law their second career, which made me feel a whole lot better. It made me realize that I'm not the oldest person to be a beginner in the law. That's very comforting. I didn't know just how much it bothered me to be older in school until I felt that relief.

I also can see how once the bar is over and I've got a legal job, just how balanced life can be. The few lawyers that I know are happy people with outside lives and families and friends. Thank goodness. If I can focus on that, then hopefully I can avoid becoming the she-demon again.

Politics

This is the first in a series about what I think should happen to this country:

I've thought this way for a while. Really, I never thought of it until after taking an intro course on health law, but now I really think it's important.

Donating organs. I believe that the country should have a law that says that unless someone objects for a legitimate reason, all deceased people should be donors. Why not? God won't love you less, especially since, in my understanding, we are created in his image and then return to him. The body is just a shell. Why wouldn't we want to help those who have not yet been called?

It's definitely worth a conversation.

The Bar

Every time I type those words, "The Bar", I can hear the music from that chipmunk video on YouTube playing in the background. Why does studying feel like such an insurmountable task? Hell, I made it through law school (barely) and I made it through Bar-Bri (tedious), so doing this again should feel like a piece of cake!

But it doesn't. The pressure seems higher now. My dreams are getting weirder. How do I manage studying with working? I have to work, I have rent to pay and a future to plan.

Today I'll blame this blog on the grey weather outside.

Anger

My last post came from pure rage. I woke up this morning and decided to evaluate my thoughts. I am very, very angry still. The problem I have is that I am afraid of anger and am afraid of confrontation. I hate the idea that if I lay into my dad for this betrayal, I am setting up my Mom for at least a week of agony from him. That's how he operates. He will never confront anyone, and will never listen to anything anyone says.

I also feel even more like an idiot for thinking that there might be a relationship to be had with this man. The issue I have is that in order for that to happen, I have to sublimate myself. This scares me. I've lived with chronic fear for a very long time now. It's exhausting work to maintain. Hypervigilence just wears me out. Yet I do it, every day.

So what's next? I don't know. Someone, maybe my friend John, told me that the youngest sibling tends to be the people-pleaser - the one who smooths everything over. That's certainly true of me. I'd rather have harmony than be right. Usually I think this is a virtue. But as I reread what I just wrote, I really wonder.

Betrayal

Tonight I found out that my father accessed my bank account. This account only has me, and not my mom or anyone else. I can't believe what an ass he is. I also can't believe that my bank allowed him access.

Tomorrow I'm going to have a chat with the bank. Sunday I'm going to have a chat with my father.

What hurts most is since I've been back here, he and I have gotten on well. I can't believe what an idiot I've been. When I was a kid, I was a tattletale. It took me years to regain the trust of my siblings and my mom. Now, I let myself believe that my dad and I were rebuilding a relationship. I wish I had trusted myself before; I just wanted acceptance from him.

I have never felt so betrayed. I hope he can live with the consequences.

What's On My Mind

1. I really, really dislike Billy Mays, king of commercial crap. Not only is he annoying, but he's really loud, which makes me feel like I'm being yelled at. I would never buy any of the products he endorses.

2. I wish I were done unpacking. Something tells me it's going to be an exciting weekend! Nothing like boxes and a shredder to make me feel alive.

3. I've got bar stress already. This is from trying to get the application done. It's due on the 1st, which conceivably will be plenty of time, but I'm still freaking out. Also, where I'm going to find $730.75 is beyond me.

4. Still, overall, I'm feeling pretty good. Luckily, a lot of my stress is showing up in my dreams, and that's where the stress should stay. If I can just continue to weird-dream everything out, I'll be good. For example, last night I dreamt that I had marble prosthetic hands and that my prom date was kinda weirded out when he tried to hold my hand. Go figure.

5. I need a job!!!!

Apartment

Today I had the folks over to help me unpack. Smart me, I put my dad on breaking-down-boxes contol. Otherwise, he'd go through my files and other personal information. Hell, I know better than that. Mom and I got the bedroom into reasonable shape - for tonight, and ongoing, I have a bed to sleep in. I feel like I'm an adult again.

And, on the plus side, I didn't kill my dad. I only had to endure 10 stories about his apartments in Whichita. I'm not sure I can explain how much I don't care about his experiences.

Home!!

I'm now in my new apartment, unpacking like crazy. Here I thought I wanted help with the packing; I was so wrong. I want help with the unpacking!! The cat is setling in nicely, and all is well.

I promise my next post will be a) in a timely fashion, and b) much more interetsing.