Two Days Out

In two days, I will not only be on my way to seeing the boy but actually in his place. For this I am nervous to the point that I can't sleep (really. I'm working on about six hours for the weekend.) and in equal parts excited. We had a good talk last night about some things that have been worrying me (and aren't I always the one who worries? Honestly, even Biggs has mentioned it on occasion). I felt heard, he suggested solutions, and although I couldn't sleep, I could rest.

Last night's Lost finale was something else. I do think it could have ended at the two-hour mark (if only to save me from more tears) but I enjoyed the denouement. Speaking of tears, I must have cried three or four separate times. I am a sucker for a good love story. And don't you think the actors have improved over the years? Well, Michael Emerson and Terry O'Quinn are consumate actors, true, but the others have really developed. Or at least learned how to do the smize and the anti-smize. (Tyra, you're welcome.)

There's some hope on hand, professionally speaking, and if there's something professional that I need right now, it's hope. So please keep your fingers crossed that I won't have to play Worst Case Scenario: Moving Back In With The Folks anytime soon.

And wish the boy and I a fabulous time together.

PM Asides

The AM asides are in the post below. I wasn’t sure how much I’d write, so creating a morning and afternoon version of this seemed prudent.

12:38pm: How come one person’s bad mood always takes precedence over another person’s good mood? There’s no particular story here. It just seems that gravitas matters more than frivolity, like the darker emotion is necessarily deeper. Does it have to be that way? Can the good cheer be more fundamental?

1:11pm: Just discovered that I can play Pac-Man on Google’s home page. I think we all know what I’ll be doing for the rest of the day.

1:35pm: Horrified to learn that I’ve been missing the French Open. Much cheered to learn that Alabama is the #12 most corrupt state in the country, according to the Daily Beast. That’s better than being #2 in the Crushing Free Speech Protection competition.

2:19pm: Just spent ten minutes explaining to my boss why I shouldn’t watch horror movies and how my cat can predict weather.

2:52pm: More food coma. Perhaps I should just give up eating? Glanced at a couple of pictures the boy has sent me recently. Smile at the flower shots.

2:58pm: Scary email from coworker. I hope she doesn’t make a mistake. The fear helps shake off the food coma.

3:26pm: More questions from another coworker with more seniority. Egads. I think they’re missing the forest for the trees.

3:49pm: Tootsie Rolls are addictive. My tummy hurts.

4:34pm: Every so often, I curse Robert Shapiro’s name for creating legalzoom. The desire to save money is ridiculous when it comes to legal affairs. Remember, you get what you pay for!

4:40pm: Just a quick game of Pac-Man. I’d forgotten how heavy-handed I am when I play video games. I was slamming the arrow keys just now.

4:56pm: Ow ow ow Tootsie Rolls. Why must you be so delicious?

5:00pm: Clean up desk. Use bathroom. Go home. Pet cat and post deep thoughts.

AM Asides

So it’s 8:37am CDT, and I’m going to update all day with what’s on my mind.

8:37am: I am glad to have made it to work when I did, as it’s now raining pretty hard and I don’t like (or own) umbrellas.

8:38am: I am reading a slate.com article on A Separate Peace. This is the book, which when taught to me in 10th grade, made me HATE looking for Deep Hidden Meaning in literature. This legacy carries over to Lost, which I watch only because I like the story, not because I’m trying to find a truth or an obscure philosophical reference.

9:17am: I’m fighting off unholy food coma, because I got myself a Chik-Fil-A biscuit and I got to bed late and awoke at 3am. Also, it’s grey with rain and the office is surprisingly quiet.

9:19am: Dear slate.com, can you please be more like nytimes.com, which only offers a “single page” option if there’s more than one page? Kthxbai.

9:30am: I’m reading the Wikipedia article on borderline personality disorder and suffering from a little medical student’s disease.

9:32am: Further down the article and feeling much better now. Does it seem to you as well that all psychiatric disorders are merely marks on a spectrum?

9:47: Dear HR/Marketing departments at work, Two things: First, having employees pay a little for the privilege of wearing jeans on a Friday is a fine tradition. Having employees pay approximately $180 over the course of a year to wear jeans ONE DAY during the year is either Machiavellianly brilliant, or just plain awful. Not sure which. Second, an employee appreciation day email that has prominently featured on the invite, NO EARLY ARRIVALS, just doesn’t sound very welcoming, now does it?

9:54am: “Natty” is an underused word, don’t you think?

10:12am: wsj.com welcomes my thoughtful comments. Can’t you hear Tim Gunn’s voice when you read that sentence?

10:30am: Reading atl.com article on studying for the LSAT. I’d forgotten about how much time it took to study for that test. Something about that time pales in relation to studying for the bar; however, it was not an insignificant amount of time. I lived with my mother when I took it and I’m now having flashbacks of, “Shouldn’t you be studying?”

11:14am: Break in the lunchroom. Just had a long conversation about the wonder that is reality TV. One of my coworkers has a picture of himself with Kynt & Vyxsin. I think I’m in love.

11:57am: Wondering if the boy would ever read all the texts in my phone. Wondering if I would ever read his. For the record, I would not read his.

12:00pm: Time for a new post.

Just A Little Awww...

As I was leaving work today, it occured to me:

One week from today, when I wake up, it will be next to the man I love.

I Blame Oprah

Tonight I watched the episode of Oprah that had Bret Michaels. One, he looked fantastic. I've heard of how bad his headaches are as he recovers, and I'm amazed that he managed through his segment.

Mostly, it inspired me to say: I love you, each and every one of you. The friends of mine who read this site and tolerate me are amazing. Those whom I write about and who don't read this - I completely get it. Occasionally there is a lot of my version of the truth here.

Bret is only 47! As much as I don't like to think of it, it'll happen to me as well. I will get older, and I will need my friends and viewers and everyone else whom I've ever influenced to know about me.

It's messy, my world. But I want every minute of it, every worry, every laugh, every desire and dream, every minute that you share with me.

Snark to resume soon.

Reaction

Because none of you comment on my blog (I understand, it's not like I'm ATL or Dooce), I will tell you about the comment I got from the last blog about my movie choices.

I stand by my choices, and I completely understand why I didn't choose any chick movies, of which I adore. C'mon, we have to be fair, and when the boy asked if I wanted to see SATC 2, I told him FREAKING ABSOLUTELY. Then I mentioned that I wouldn't drag him to see it with me because he really needs his man-parts.

Reaction: Good on you for asking for you want! It's true, I don't always show every little bit of my personality to the boy, if only because he is an ACTOOOOOR and needs endless attention. But he's learning, and last night I forced him to discuss the most recent SCOTUS rulings. Tee-hee! I make him talk about ideas without any reference points. Occasionally I am evil.

I'm No Good At Horror

Today I went out with Date, and we went to the movies. Because I am an idiot, I decided that we should see the remake of A Nightmare on Elm Street. I have no idea why I thought that would be a good idea, but I insisted. Our other option was Robin Hood. Given the reviews, I'd rather see the fear-inducing film. Plus, I'm trying to get over fear.

Yeah, that worked out well. I squealed like a little girl within the first five minutes of the film. I do not do well with horror movies. Years upon years ago, I called my best friend because I was scared of a Jack the Ripper biography.

I tried to overthink the movie, and I did OK, until I went to the bathroom after the movie. (What? You thought that my changing positions in the chair was because of fear?) The bathroom at the movie theatre was quite possibly the scariest after-horror-movie place ever. I really considered asking Date to stay in there with me.

I made it through and was fine until I got home tonight, watched the sun go down, and began to worry again.

I tried to overcome my fear and could not. I won't watch another horror film unless MST3K is attached.

Netflix

The boy is finally starting to get excited about my upcoming visit. He’s not one to show a lot of emotion, so I was really happy when he called me up to tell me that he’s been looking at the social calendars The Stranger publishes. Since then, he’s told me about a couple of restaurants where he wants to take me, asked me to remind him of the restaurants where I want him to take me, and today he asked me to email him my Netfix list.

Social calendar: We’re going to see Rollins on the 27th! The boy’s never been to see him so I’m glad he’s willing to go with me. I’ve seen Hank now three times, and while I enjoy his talks immensely, I hope he’s come up with some new material.

Restaurants where he wants to take me: Machiavelli and Plum Bistro. What makes me laugh about Plum is that it’s vegan. This is the best compromise he could figure out for a mostly vegetarian and quite possibly the most carnivorous carnivore ever.

Restaurants where I want him to take me: Rover’s and Poppy. Someone’s been watching Top Chef Masters; want to guess who? I’ll give you one guess. Between the boy and me, it’s the one of us that has cable, watches Top Chef and Top Chef Masters, and transcribes the dishes the cheftestants cook to read later to read to the foodie in this relationship.

Netflix queue: First, here’s my choices: (Yes, I copied and pasted from my email to the boy.)

24 Hour Party People
Control – NOT the Ray Liotta version, please
Party Monster
Angels in America
Michael Jackson’s This Is It
Arrested Development – at least Season 1, as I’ve seen none of it
Family Guy – a couple seasons, your choice
Julie & Julia – c’mon, it’s got classic French cooking…
Little Children – I’m enjoying the book and I like Kate Winslet
Invader Zim, Season 1
Walk The Line
The Last King of Scotland
God Grew Tired of Us
Ed Wood
Soft Cell: Live in Milan (squee!)

Second, this was hard for me because I rarely see movies. I don’t know why; they’ve just never really been my thing. The boy’s wanted to see Control – I’ve seen it about four times now but I want to watch it with him to see his reaction. I want to see if he sees what I see in the movie. We talked about seeing the Michael Jackson movie when it was out when I was last up there but it never came about.

Third, getting to read his Netflix queue was a bit strange. It felt like I was seeing too much of him. His list is quite pure because he lives alone and therefore never has to compromise. I know he’s always liked thrillers and horror films and strangely Gothic themes. It’s just to see one hundred of those kinds of movies (who knew there were that many?) is a bit overwhelming.

I’m not sure of my point – as usual, I’m not sure I have one – but I think it might be something along the lines of really getting a pure insight into your partner can sometimes be more than you imagined.

Happy Failure

Sunday night, my buddy Ward decided to run my inventory. Monday night, the boy decided to lay into me and when I told him that I didn’t want to end our conversation that way, he told me that I don’t always get what I want.

Narcissistic aside: Do I ever get what I want?

Needless to say, Tuesday morning I woke up feeling pretty bad. Like, why bother bad. Like, can I even get out of bed and get to work bad. Somehow, I dragged myself out of the bedsheets and into the shower, where some crappy pop music and my incredible irritation at a local car dealership radio ad which is so anti-consumer that I can barely stand it got my Christine mojo going again.

Then, instead of watching twenty minutes of The West Wing like I do most mornings, I yanked out my O magazine (yeah, I read O. Judge away.) and quickly read a couple of articles. One got to me – Elizabeth Gilbert’s article called Lighten Up! where she extols the virtue of making a complete mess of yourself because it’s not the worst thing that can happen. It can often be the best.

So I decided to fail spectacularly on Tuesday. I completely shot my diet, 15 days before I leave for vacation. I had Chik-Fil-A for breakfast (my biscuit had cheese on it!) and an absolutely non-Jared-approved Subway (foot long!) sandwich for lunch. I went home and drank beer and decided not to eat dinner because it’s too flipping hot to eat and I refuse to turn on the A/C because it’s still early May. I chattered at friends about how I really am making mistakes in my relationships, how I put expectations on people, and how much I love reality TV. I watched Celebrity Apprentice. I went to bed at 9:15. It was lovely.

Did it make everything better? No. I’m still upset with Ward because I didn’t deserve that attack. I understand it though, because people sometimes have to vent their pain and they’ll do it on the closest (physically or emotionally) person near them. Still, an apology is in order. And although I didn’t want to speak to the boy – he seriously hurt my feelings! – I left him a message wishing him well on a project he had that day. And I felt anxious about a) making the call and b) not getting to speak to him.

Phone call fail. The rest of the day was pretty peaceful though. It’s nice to know I can just be for a day – well, the daylight hours anyway.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

Yesterday I got Facebook messages from Date's sister.  Looks like she may be back here for a while, and wanted my opinion on the legal market here.

AN EXPERIENCED ATTORNEY WANTED MY ADVICE.

I'm so happy to help her if she needs the time.  She was so wonderful to me as I sat for the bar, and gave me very realistic advice once I passed.  I will introduce her to the well-seasoned attorneys that I know, and be - again - happy to do it.

Monday I file my first case.  My client pushes me along (and occasionally makes me crazy) to get me to get everything started.

Folks, I am so excited to see the development of my legal career.  It helps so much, especially since my very correct legal opinion was overturned by a higher-up on Friday.

We're in business!

PS - Be really good to your Momma tomorrow, if you can.  If you have a tough relationship with her, do try to remember that she was a girl and a woman before you ever existed.  Would you want to be eternally judged by what you did when you were younger?

Well, I Tried

Last night I got a great idea to send flowers to Momma at her work from all three of us kids.  I left a message for my brother and sister.  My brother called me back, OKed the amount I thought would be a fair split ($25 people, it's not like I was asking for tons).  I never heard back from my sister.

Today I texted my sister to see if she was in.  I couldn't tell her about the all-three-of-us plan, as my siblings don't speak.  She texted back that she had already arranged for flowers to be sent to Momma, which is awesome.  (Her text, however, was a bit holier-than-thou).  So my brother and I upped our ante and Momma will get a gorgeous arrangement on Friday at work.

Aside:  I think I've mentioned before, guys, that sending flowers to work means a whole lot.

I wish my siblings would get over their issues.  I don't know if the real problem is with them or with their spouses.

In 2007, the war came out.  My sister needed some help, and my brother's wife decided to put in her two cents.  While she's entitled to her opinion, sending her thoughts about my brother-in-law to my sister was inappropriate  Not as inappropriate as my sister-in-law sending her thoughts about my sister to her mother (Momma).

You can see where this gets bad, quickly.  This all happened about two months before I graduated from law school.  I cancelled the visit for all of them, because I knew that all I wanted to do was lock my family in a closet and let them duke it out.

One:  I kinda hate them all for not being able to get over it and care about a special day for me.

Two:  I wish I knew a way to get my siblings to speak before our parents die.