Upon the death of a patriarch

I apologize for the topic of this post. It is such a struggle to decide what to say publicly when someone dies. I think that the way it “ought” to be dealt with is something that many people have strong feelings about, and yet there is no consensus. So in a selfish attempt to sort through my own head after the death of my Grandfather, on this the day we laid him to rest, I am making my thoughts public. I promise this won't be too sad, more a reflection; death is inevitable and dying at nearly ninety is something of an accomplishment. Not that we won't miss him, but there is much more to be celebrated than mourned. 

 My Grandfather was not an easy man: raised in depression, served in the Navy and worked on the railroad, he had gained the requisite tough exterior. I did not have an easy relationship with him as a young girl; I was eventually able to hold my own, but there were years I lived in terror of his acerbic tongue. To this day I think I have spilled more tears over his short temper and impatience than any other man or boy. Eventually I came to understand that he had his own burdens, that he loved us but didn't express it well. That, for most of my life he was either dealing with being the caregiver for my grandmother as she suffered from a terminal illness, or mourning her loss, was a difficult realization that shed some light on his temper. As I grew up I came to appreciate that he was stubborn, not only in his demands but also his love for family.

 I also came to view and appreciate my grandfather’s quiet streak of feminism. I don’t imagine that is a word that he would have been very comfortable using, and he certainly wasn’t radically progressive in the area, but it was pretty clear that he viewed my grandmother as a partner and that they raised their sons and daughter to raise strong women of their own. He was nonchalant about voting for a woman or going to female doctors. He was raised by a single mother after his father passed away, and I am sure watching that strength of will had a great influence on him. He never batted an eye when I decided to work on the hill or go to law school, and he was an equal opportunity interrupter.

 In his last days he asked for us all to come see him. He could be demanding, and we wondered if he was feeling bored, but, when we arrived, it was clear he was saying goodbye, taking his last moments to enjoy us all together. He had been sick for some time, and while we had joked that he was stubborn enough to live forever, I had accepted that his time was near. His last question to me was whether anyone actually read the books in our law library, which I could answer honestly that they did. I’ll think of that question any time I pull a reporter from the shelf, a small carried forward " I love you".

“Death is always on the way, but the fact that you don’t know when it will arrive seems to take away from the finiteness of life. It’s that terrible precision that we hate so much. But because we don’t know, we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. Yet everything happens a certain number of times, and a very small number, really. How many more times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood, some afternoon that’s so deeply a part of your being that you can’t even conceive of your life without it? Perhaps four or five times more. Perhaps not even. How many more times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps twenty. And yet it all seems limitless.” 

—Paul Bowles, The Sheltering Sky

My Grandfather had lost his front teeth to a horseshoe as a young man,
when my cousin and I lost our front teeth at the same time he tool the
opportunity to show off his inner first-grader. 

In which everyone thinks "oh, she is a lesbian."

But where I am actually just terrible at relationships.

I have an event to attend this weekend where I will be representing my firm and which is the type of event where people often bring a date. (The firm even offered to pay for said date's dinner.) Now because I am the type of person who would rather drink wine in her sweats and watch Scandal with her mother than go on a date, I do not have anyone to bring to this event.
While I don't overstate my own ineptitude at romance, there is also the problem of finding an appropriate date to bring to this type of function. My firm has asked me to be its representative on the board of directors for our chamber of commerce, and their annual gala [lets be real its dry chicken and a local band] is this weekend. Now I live on the coast in California and the town I live in is full of some of the last living hippies, probably easy enough to come out in and relatively relaxed standard for dress and decorum. The town I work in - a stone's throw a way- is still pretty old school. There is a huge agriculture industry and a lot of old timers (the fact that I was born in the hospital in town means something to some of our clients, even the corporate clients.) My firm is definitely part of that old guard, we still have octogenarian partners who come in every day (lets just say pantyhose are not optional.) It is the type of place where it might still be uncomfortable to come out of the closet. As a straight woman I am lucky not to have to deal with that hurdle, unfortunately it means finding a male date.
Honestly I have enough amazing female friends it would be much easier to find a woman to bring to this event. There appears to have been an outbreak of Peter Pan syndrome throughout my home town. As much as I would enjoy explaining why a suit is the appropriate dress code to the surfer who "doesn't own paints, except for snowboarding... does that count?" Or to watch as an artist who "doesn't like to have a schedule dictated to him" explain his aversion to my Korean War veteran boss; I decided to go alone. It makes for better networking, and there are many fewer opportunities for embarrassment.

It did mean that I had to have these conversations:

From the octogenarian: "So are we going to meet your young man?"
Me: "Nope, it is just me."
Him: "Oh, well, better luck next year"

From the Managing Partner: "The firm will pay for you to bring a date"
Me: "Thanks, but I would rather go on my own, better networking"
Him: "Okay, whatever you want"

From our accounting department: "Just $75.00 on the check? You know that just covers you, right?"
Me: "Yep, just me."
Her: "No date?"
Me: "No date."
Her: "Hmm, OK, $75.00 then"

From the president of the chamber: "I see you just RSVP'd for one, did you mean to include a guest?"
Me: "I know, it is just me."
Her: "People generally bring guests"
Me: "Do I need to bring a guest?"
"No, no, just it is an option you know."
"Okay, well just me then."

Honestly, tomorrow is going to be interesting.

The New Year (or Third)

I am not a devotee of New Year’s resolutions, and maybe it is a false hope to think that I will get back in the habit of writing, but a new year does seem like a good time to turn a leaf and write again. Of course the stated purpose of my writing was to keep in touch with my family from a distance, which is less essential now that I am back home. 

I am sorry that I have been so inattentive. Sometimes the practice of blogging feels a bit “navel gaze-y,” and I wonder if I am falling into the stereotype of a self-important millennial assuming anyone wants to read my thoughts. (Case and point: apologizing for not writing as if anyone was waiting with bated breath for me to post again; other than my parents. Insert gold star parent joke here.)

 I hope I have something interesting to say. Being back in my home town, with all of its quirks; practicing law at a firm that feels like a big fish because of our tiny pond; faking adulthood as a twenty something. Thanks for coming back. Let me know if I am being an idiot. 

I’m baaaack…

I apologize that it has been over a year since I posted, and well over since I was posting with any regularity. I guess there is nothing like getting really pissed off to inspire venting, and there is nothing like feeling trapped in your home town to inspire semi-anonymous venting into the ether of the Internet.

It has been quite a year, 3L left me both frantic with work and bored beyond belief. My clinical experience, and the work I was able to do for real clients reinvigorated me for the practice of law, while having to sit in class each day left me counting the days to graduation. Now, as is so often our wont as human beings, I am looking back and wishing I hadn’t been so anxious to move on.

It wasn’t an easy year, despite some phenomenal success for clients, graduation saw me with a deferred job offer that is looking more and more like a rescinded offer. Thankfully I was able to acquire a fellowship with a start up company in my home town. So I am living the dream, back at my parents’ house, working an extra job for spending money and trying to suppress the impending existential crisis.

Spring time trips and birthday disappointment.

In continuing my attempt to take you through the months of life that were un-blogged, I am writing once more about last spring. (And hey, this is the third post this month so I would say I am making some, middling, progress.)
My parents sent my little sister to visit me, for her spring break, which just happened to be around my birthday and, more importantly at cherry blossom time. It was a pretty awsome trip, although not without its trials-we are sibblings after all and even as we get older we know how to push each other's buttons, although traveling together has gotten much easier as time has gone on. (The first road trip I rember taking with her, led to me threatening at some point to throw her out the window. I was serious, my parents were displeased.)

It was nice to show her around DC and take her to some of my favorite places, with the added advantage of Meghan still being on my parents dole, so she was a less expensive visitor than many of my friends. Plus there really isn't a better time to be in the district than the end of March. (This is a stark contrast to the beginning of July which I would argue is the worst time to be in the district.)  
Another plesant birthday surprise- my parent's got me a Kindle Fire! I was very excited, I always ask for a surprise gift from my parents. I know in many ways this is mean, basically I am testing how well they know me, giving them no hints, but it makes the gift so much better because I have no idea what is coming and it is something I probably wouldn't have gotten for myself. Which really illistrates the problem of gift giving as you get older, anything that I would ask for there is a good chance I will just buy it for myself and giving money just goes to needs like groceries and rent. (Not that I mind thos things- a girls gotta eat but it is so much fun to be really surpriesed and touched by a gift.)
Unfortunately my little sister had to leave early on the morning of my birthday, which left a bit to be desired as birthdays go. Thursdays were my long day last semester (nearly straight through from 10 in the morning till 8 at night) and most of my friends (including my roommate) forgot I realize that this is partly my fault, my facebook doesn't have my birthday on it, and I tend to not make a big deal about it, but still it was a little depressing. Thankfully I had saved a stack of cards from people at home to open and enjoy, because a spring break trip and law school isn't quite as insane as a wedding. (Plus my roommate eventually remembered and insisted on margaritas and chocolate cake- something that tastes good even the day after your birthday.)

She is definitely not Jake, but my roommate makes a mean birthday cake.

Spring Break...so much better than last year!

Spring Break as it should be...mimosas in a mason jar!

At my law school your spring break 1L year is set up to drain the life out of you. Mine did, in part because I was so miserable about the things I would supposed to get done and which made break miserable that I didn't actually get them done. So not only was I stressed out I was unproductive. At very least I got to visit my family which was a bonus.

Central Market- Charelston

This year that was not the case, sure there was work that I would have ideally gotten done, but it didn't need to happen (and therefore did not get done.) I decided to rationalize that spending time relaxing was probably good for my mind. A group of my friends and I rented a beach house in South Carolina. We were a little before college spring break, which made the island we were staying on a bit more laid back than it might be otherwise.

I love getting to spend time near the ocean and I haven't been able to spend as much time in the south I would like, so when one of my girlfriends- who, because of our mutually busy schedules, I never get to spend enough time with- invited me to come along I jumped at the chance, even though it meant missing my dad while he was here for briefly for work. I was really looking forward to a break from school, and DC and the pace of real life. Of course, as is the case with much of life it wasn't as stars and ferries as I had hoped.

First of all, it was early March, so we knew going in that the weather might be iffy, and we didn't get too many great beach days. (You will not the lack of beach photos-I didn't take many.) Also as the population of our vacationers changed and it quickly became evident that I was going on a "boy's trip." Now not entirely boys,  it was two couples three boys and me; but I realized that this was the first time I had been on a "boys boys," (probably because I am not cut out for them.) In college I could always find better modes of transportation to football games than the frat buses, and I have always had more girlfriends than guy friends. So all my trips have been family vacations, trips with my girlfriends and vacations on my own, and I have no problem saying that they are what I prefer. My experiance with this group of fine young gentalmen was that they thought I was their mother, something that I am sure would have displeased their actual mothers.

You notice that I call my travel companions "boys," this is because they behaved as such, not because I think of all males my age as boys, but rather because the behaved as boys. We had an amazing house right on the ocean, I would wake up in the morning to go for a run on the beach and when I got back all the blinds facing the ocean would be closed so that the guys could play video games. Which is fine, it is their vacation my problem is that we were not allowed to open our blinds the whole time we were there, because of the glare. As soon as I would get in the house one of them would ask "hey, when is breakfast going to be ready?" I wanted to answer I don't know asshole maybe when you get off your ass and make it? But I had decided to be "fun" and "kind" which in my twisted brain translated to cooking and cleaning and becoming their mother; which of course then resulted in anger and passive aggression- making me not fun at all. All and all I was left utterly without hope for the men of my generation.

That's not to say the trip didn't have highlights, I read all of the hunger games trilogy in under something like 36 hours. They were addicting, and twisted and while they left much to be desired it was nice to read a heroine that actually stood up for herself. The other highlight was spending the day in Charleston with my friend and her boyfriend. While I did feel like a third wheel the day kept me from killing any of the guys back at the house who were still playing video games. (I get that they relax people but the boys never: went to the beach, to Charleston, to Savannah or really into town- I don't understand why they needed to drive 500 miles and pay to rent a beachfront property if you are only going to do exactly what you do at home.)

 

I really enjoyed Charleston and Folly beach even if it was a week of week of cooking and cleaning for spoiled man children (who couldn't operate a diswaher and spilled beer exrywhere for me to clean up), it was still better than last year. I would love to go back and spend some time there for a bachelorette, or girls vacation; but after this spring break  I think there will need to be a "NO BOYS ALLOWED" sign on the front door.   

It's not you, it's me...

If it makes you feel better it isn't just the blog I have been neglecting, I got my hair cut for the first time today since December! (That is almost 8 months-think of the split ends.)

Seriously though, I know I have been terrible about posing lately; I haven't written about spring break, or my South East Asia trip, or my summer job...the list goes on and on. I have a few posts that I have been working on, so here's hoping I get it together an they go up soon.