Ugh, the sychranine sweetness and gooey sentimentalism of my last post makes me feel a little nauseus in re-reading - or that could be the cherry pie I had for breakfast. Whatever, New Years Resolution the first: cut down on the glucose, in both the daily bread and prose writing.
More resolutions (unlikely to ever be resolved!) to follow.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Out with the Old, In with the New
December 31st is, necessarily, a time for reflection. Back in May, following denial of medical waiver for the JAG Corps, many people comforted me with saying that it was "all of the best." Or, more specifically, that I would one day look back and be grateful for this disappointment. I didn't expect that gratitude to be realized quite so soon, though. This is not to say that I am where I want to be, doing what I want to do. Not at all - that is all very much still a 'work in progress,' but I do feel excited, at least for today, by the possibilities.
2009, it's been a good year. One of the things that has made it so has been knowing M. That never would have happened without the JAG corps - so, however that goes I am grateful for that!
I suppose the purpose of this entry is just as an expression of gratitude. 2009 has been difficult, anxiety-ridden and insecure in many ways. But when I look back on it what I remember are the acts of courage and faith by the ones I love and a large handful of perfect moments with one I grew to love. I can't complain!
So, thanks 2009 and welcome 2010!
- Anna
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Return
Last month I received two wonderful (and wonderfully unexpected) compliments from two friends I hadn’t seen in a long time: both followed my blog. By which I mean that they follow it whenever there is anything to follow.
It was exhilarating to hear that someone read and enjoyed my words – it is also a little intimidating. I’ve been intimidated (think Sophia sizing herself up to Jayne as in the above picture) and thus foregone posting on several important topics: (1) profound reflections on the first world war and human nature and (2) assessment of the best breasts in Hollywood history (I would call the award “The C-Cups”!).
But I am back! Despite the provocative post on the C-Cups you haven't missed much. I've been conducting document review for a local law firm (which I really like, the firm, not the doc review) and volunteering at the state's Attorney General's office. Things continue to go well with M. ("the Man"). Shortly after my last post he came to visit. Three months and several phone bills later I am set to return the favor: last week I got a ticket to Florence - birthplace of soccer and home to acclaimed sculptures of nude biblical figures.
I am, of course, excited. My work can be done remotely so I can stay longer (20 days, grudgingly returning for Thanksgiving and family harmony). I am also a little nervous, but mostly impatient. I leave in exactly a week and this week is interminnable; patience is not my virtue. In fact, I can't think about it too much (see theory of the watched pot, black holes and the space/time continuum) - so for last few days have tried to distract myself with investigating a few C cups of my own. Which leads me to my next question: for a society that uses sex to sell everything from toaster ovens to baby shampoo, why is there such a gap in the sex/lingerie market and why doesn't Nordstrom carry garter belts?
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Pazzo, Cazzo and just screwed
I am not romantic - I don't trust such impulses. I seek rationality and the pretense of permanence and control. Therefore, I don't know how to introduce this topic, I'll just say I am screwed.
The backstory: Back in February I took an alumni lecture series on beginner's Italian. The idea being self-improvement and maybe the chance to improve my chances of an assignment to Italy/Europe when entering the JAG corps in July (I was denied the waiver by the way, but more on that later...). The class was composed of me, 7 other alumni over the age where power of attorney is a practical concern, and the instructor, M., an attractive doctoral student at the university. Call it circumstance (I had to look good compared to the over 60s, no?) call it fate (I did have a premonition that this was going to be trouble when I first entered the class) about a month after classes ended the instructor and I started dating. Stated thus it sounds so orchestrated and cold (student dating teacher) - but (as everyone says) it wasn't like that. He was sweet, attentive and assuring and I was (as I usually am) alternatively awkward and forward. He left in May. We talked of my visiting him in Italy (he is taking a year off to write his thesis in Italy before returning to complete doctorate the following year). Things got crazy with JAG and the denial of the waiver process. When the debris cleared from that disappointment I said "what the hell" and bought a ticket to Italy.
I returned last night (this morning?). And am now sprawled in pjs on the couch listening to love songs and eating home-made frosting - something I haven't really done since I was 14 and in love every other weekend (the sentimental love songs bit, not the frosting, that is a pretty regular occurence, actually!).** I am tired and dazed and I count this as a good thing - my feelings are thus a little muted and removed.
To explain: Our issue here is that I am not "done" yet. That I need to set myself up first before I lean on anyone (else!- I know I have a lot of buttresses in all of you!). I am painfully aware that my hesitancy may be an awful mistake. And I know that the uncertainty created by this period of transition creates pain for him as well. All this and missing him leads me to the following...
I came across one song (this all initially started as an innocent, proactive effort to update my I-Pod so I could go running and work off the afore-mentioned binging) that I have played over and over and over again. It is by Charles Aznavour: "She." Excepting the fact that this song features a man singing about a woman it really resonates with me. Mostly because this is my first love; as the song intimates, that stays with you and shapes you. Secondly, because, although I am not his first love, it reassures me that he will also carry me with him. There are several lines that are particulary powerful. I am going to be a bore and post them here:
She
May be the face I can't forget
A trace of pleasure or regret
May be my treasure or the price I have to pay
.....
She may be the mirror of my dreams
A smile reflected in a stream
She may not be what she may seem
......
She may be the love that can and hope to last
May come to me from shadows of the past
That I remember till the day I die.
Why this song and not some other (because, believe me, I have listened to a few in my masochistic moping) - because it is wistful, wanting and wise. And it articulates and assures me of my belief that love is never wasted. That even if I fuck this up (as is my wont in any first endeavor in any area) or if it is not meant to last, or even given, perhaps our (as in mankind generally) limitations in our ability to see and understand each other (that love is always based on some measure of illusion) that there it is still love - it is still powerful, purposeful and permanent.
** Note: Not saying I haven't been silly over guys in the interim dozen years - that would be a patent falsehood - just haven't mooned over sentimental serinades.
*** Note: I have included a link to Charles Aznavour's performance of "She" for your edification and entertainment.
Monday, February 23, 2009
The Literary Offenses of Harold S. Pinter
Hello, all! It is Monday - and I am always full of pep and vigour on a Monday (or at least a Monday in my current world where I don't have to earn the daily bread). After a weekend at home with my family I am more than usually inspired to go out and get 'em. This means a return to serious thought and actual action on the "what will I do with the rest of my life" front. To this end I have volunteered legal aid with my local Women's Center and have an interview tomorrow for a research assistant position on an upcoming international law/intellectual property treatise. Oh! And I started taking lessons in Italian. That should make the JAG waiting process that much less gruesome...
Speaking of career calls, last week, after watching Breakfast at Tiffany's for the third time (my sister is on an Audrey Hepburn rush at present) I thought, hmmm, let me take a line from our friend Paul (you'll know him as Fred, baby). Maybe I should try to write. I spent the following afternoon staring blankly at my (even blanker) computer screen and randomly wikipedia-ing. When I decided to try and clean up my inbox I came across some stories I wrote a few years ago. I include one rant below:
...... .......
This is how it is: I’ve never understood the dialogue in short fiction: the language so wistful, bitter, and truncated. The characters never saying what they mean, instead staring off into space, noting a fly on a wall and reflecting about life, or a leaf falling from a tree and thinking about death, and all the while really only concerned about sex. It is all about sex, but no sex that I have ever known - sex like an incomplete poem or an impressionist painting. The artist purposefully removed – because it is not something that you can examine too closely, the more you concentrate on one aspect the more it changes.
That is what irritates me so much about these short stories. The room is cold – it hasn’t been this cold for a while. Autumn is ending. That means that the lovers must part. Why didn’t he just say as much? Pinter’s dialogue is supposed to reflect actual speech and actual speakers. But people don’t talk like that. We don’t say too little – we say too much. We go on and on and on about nothing – and somewhere bobbing to the surface in this endless stream of self-absorbed reflection there are little nuggets of reflection and revelation. Our speech is all expository – and eventually, circuitously, it exposes us. So let us have done with this restraint and vague reflections. “I’ve never had a whore under this roof. Since your mother died.” We don’t speak so purposefully or cleverly.
Then let us say it as it is. The sky is blue. Sometimes the sun, when it sets, is red and violent and the smell of green and new born things is so beautiful it hurts.
Speaking of career calls, last week, after watching Breakfast at Tiffany's for the third time (my sister is on an Audrey Hepburn rush at present) I thought, hmmm, let me take a line from our friend Paul (you'll know him as Fred, baby). Maybe I should try to write. I spent the following afternoon staring blankly at my (even blanker) computer screen and randomly wikipedia-ing. When I decided to try and clean up my inbox I came across some stories I wrote a few years ago. I include one rant below:
...... .......
This is how it is: I’ve never understood the dialogue in short fiction: the language so wistful, bitter, and truncated. The characters never saying what they mean, instead staring off into space, noting a fly on a wall and reflecting about life, or a leaf falling from a tree and thinking about death, and all the while really only concerned about sex. It is all about sex, but no sex that I have ever known - sex like an incomplete poem or an impressionist painting. The artist purposefully removed – because it is not something that you can examine too closely, the more you concentrate on one aspect the more it changes.
That is what irritates me so much about these short stories. The room is cold – it hasn’t been this cold for a while. Autumn is ending. That means that the lovers must part. Why didn’t he just say as much? Pinter’s dialogue is supposed to reflect actual speech and actual speakers. But people don’t talk like that. We don’t say too little – we say too much. We go on and on and on about nothing – and somewhere bobbing to the surface in this endless stream of self-absorbed reflection there are little nuggets of reflection and revelation. Our speech is all expository – and eventually, circuitously, it exposes us. So let us have done with this restraint and vague reflections. “I’ve never had a whore under this roof. Since your mother died.” We don’t speak so purposefully or cleverly.
Then let us say it as it is. The sky is blue. Sometimes the sun, when it sets, is red and violent and the smell of green and new born things is so beautiful it hurts.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
SWF seeking advice/insight/prayers/happy thoughts
Inaugurations are like weddings: I always get choked up. Yesterday was no exception.
Moving on from the best of times to the worst of times...Yesterday was divided between my TV (inauguration) and my computer where I was trying to get any information on the Army's evaluation process and the availability of medical waivers. It is very possible that I may be medically disqualified due to my medical history. I mention this now just as a brief update and as a request to keep me and my application in your thoughts!
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Continuing in the tradition of giving unsolicited advice on topics I know nothing about...
When I was younger my family and I would take long trips during the summer: Driving through Labrador Canada, train rides through Alaska, chugging up the Hudson....These adventures were all wonderful and magical...but there was always a part of them that was not. To be frank, there is always a portion that is downright miserable; when you are cold, wet, grumpy and want nothing more than to be home. (See, e.g.: blowing a tire out on a dirt road up in Labrador - miles from civilization; having to be rescued from the coast guard when my grandfather's engine burst into flames off of Point Judith; that unfortunate miscalculation of train times outside Seward, Alaska; and after any stretch of time stuffed in a back seat with my brothers). Despite this, these are usually the memories my family and I enjoy recalling the most. Get us around the table and we will exchange reminisces of when we were most cold and miserable with unseemly relish. Memory is a funny thing. I sometimes think that half of the joy of these travels is in simply surviving (with all limbs in tact and members on at least grunting terms) to tell the tale. Joy may very well be simply misery weathered.
I mention this now because I have been reflecting on another hellacious journey, the Bar (the horror, the horror), and have found myself looking back on the months of studying with that familiar, indulgent nostalgia. Memory certainly is a funny thing. A number of friends are now preparing to sit for the February bar and I know (having done it myself) that many others are scouring the internet for the "secrets to bar success." Having weathered that storm myself, I thought that I would pass on a few words of advice:
1. You know more than you think you do...Contrary of popular sentiment, you will be surprised how well law school actually does prepare you for the bar (and more specifically for the state essay portion). While coming out of school you may not necessarily know the exact details of the process of closing a mortgage in your state but you will know: (1) how to structure an arguement and (2) some basic legal principles to back up your argument in a crunch.
2. And even if you don't it doesn't have to matter...I know this sounds crazy (and it took me a while to get my head around it) but if you don't know the law - make it up. Seriously. This is the kernel of truth that BarBri etc imparted to us again and again - and I stand by it. Half of the time you will be right and the other half the fact that you are wrong is immaterials when compared against the strength of your reasoning and the solidity of the legal principles referenced. Check your state's sample answers to past questions: you will find that frequently these "best" answers featured are frequently WRONG on the law.
3. Write out essay answers for practice - even before you feel comfortable doing so. This is the best preparation for the test. As noted above these essays are very formulaic. If you are comfortable with the formula it significantly reduces stress - even if you aren't necessary comfortable with the given material. This is also important because as soon as you start answering essay questions you will (and let me underscore this, will) have a panic attack. It is best to get this out of the way earlier in the game.
4. Have a study schedule. The way I did this was not so much in regards to time allotments throughout the day, but rather specific objectives. For example: today I will cover the UCC and oral contracts, cover 40 Contract MBE questions and draft two Contracts essays. I then divided my time in general terms to meet those objectives. It is also important to have a weekly a monthly schedule - keep in mind the larger goals and don't get caught up in the minutiae.
5. Schedule in time to relax and NOT think about the bar.
6. If you are like me (and can't sleep the night before a test) invest in Tylenol PM or Simply Sleep in advance of T-minus one night. A good nights rest is critical - not only to being sharp and ready to tackle the questions but in order to keep yourself calm under pressure and everything in perspective.
Honestly, you survived first year and, in my experience nothing is as intimidating as first year of law school.
I mention this now because I have been reflecting on another hellacious journey, the Bar (the horror, the horror), and have found myself looking back on the months of studying with that familiar, indulgent nostalgia. Memory certainly is a funny thing. A number of friends are now preparing to sit for the February bar and I know (having done it myself) that many others are scouring the internet for the "secrets to bar success." Having weathered that storm myself, I thought that I would pass on a few words of advice:
1. You know more than you think you do...Contrary of popular sentiment, you will be surprised how well law school actually does prepare you for the bar (and more specifically for the state essay portion). While coming out of school you may not necessarily know the exact details of the process of closing a mortgage in your state but you will know: (1) how to structure an arguement and (2) some basic legal principles to back up your argument in a crunch.
2. And even if you don't it doesn't have to matter...I know this sounds crazy (and it took me a while to get my head around it) but if you don't know the law - make it up. Seriously. This is the kernel of truth that BarBri etc imparted to us again and again - and I stand by it. Half of the time you will be right and the other half the fact that you are wrong is immaterials when compared against the strength of your reasoning and the solidity of the legal principles referenced. Check your state's sample answers to past questions: you will find that frequently these "best" answers featured are frequently WRONG on the law.
3. Write out essay answers for practice - even before you feel comfortable doing so. This is the best preparation for the test. As noted above these essays are very formulaic. If you are comfortable with the formula it significantly reduces stress - even if you aren't necessary comfortable with the given material. This is also important because as soon as you start answering essay questions you will (and let me underscore this, will) have a panic attack. It is best to get this out of the way earlier in the game.
4. Have a study schedule. The way I did this was not so much in regards to time allotments throughout the day, but rather specific objectives. For example: today I will cover the UCC and oral contracts, cover 40 Contract MBE questions and draft two Contracts essays. I then divided my time in general terms to meet those objectives. It is also important to have a weekly a monthly schedule - keep in mind the larger goals and don't get caught up in the minutiae.
5. Schedule in time to relax and NOT think about the bar.
6. If you are like me (and can't sleep the night before a test) invest in Tylenol PM or Simply Sleep in advance of T-minus one night. A good nights rest is critical - not only to being sharp and ready to tackle the questions but in order to keep yourself calm under pressure and everything in perspective.
Honestly, you survived first year and, in my experience nothing is as intimidating as first year of law school.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)