D Flat

One more year

2010-07-05T15:10:00.002-04:00

One more year has passed.

One year ago, I was on Cape Cod for our annual 4th of July trip. I was on the beach with Chloe, tanning, talking, swimming and waiting for the boys to get back from mini-golf. We were talking about love life, gossiping about our guys friends and their love lives, discussing my evermore imminent start of law school... I had just decided to go to Fordham and stay in NYC for law school. I had just moved out of my little Carroll Gardens apartment and was home at the O'Callahan's in Park Slope for the next month and a half while I tried to find a place near school.

I remember that trip and my sense that it was my last summer. I remember telling people that in some ways, I felt like I was on death row... I had to do all these things, I had to see all these people, go all these places, before the third week of August when I would start orientation. I felt like, once that week arrived, I would no longer be able to see people, do things I loved... My life as I knew it would be over and consumed by something else. Something which, at that point I had started to dread. I should have been excited, and yet I was slowly beginning to wonder why I had decided to do this.

Flash to a month and a half later and my first day at Fordham. I remember little parts of that day, but the biggest thing I remember, was walking out of the first day, calling Joel and Elise, and sobbing. I was walking down the street, carrying bags from Bed Bath and Beyond, tears streaming down my face and hiccuping into the phone to Elise that I thought I had made a mistake, that this felt like highschool, that I didn't want to be here, what I was afraid of the next 3 years...

A few hours later, sometime that evening, I got a phone call that Tadd was dead. Oliver called from the Bond Street house to check on me and to tell me that they were all together over there and wanted me to come over to be with them if I could... And there I was, on 59th and 9th Avenue in Manhattan, in my tiny little room, with some book for orientation that I for some reason thought I needed to read, and I said no, I couldn't go. I needed to get this work done. I couldn't take the 40 minute subway ride to Brooklyn, the place I still wanted to be home, to be with them on this horrible night. So Loren came into the city and took me and Ardis out for some beers. The three of us sat and talked and tried to understand... And when I got home, all I wanted was to be in Brooklyn with the rest of them. My desire to be so close to them and yet feel so far, and so incapable of being with them cementing my fears that my life as I knew it was over, and that I had had my last summer. I couldn't be part of this world anymore. And yet I was stuck. Stuck in midtown Manhattan, which I hated living in, in the same city, committing myself to 3 years of being there, and feeling... trapped... And yet unable to have my life in New York.

So I panicked. I spent the next 3 days sobbing on the phone to my mother, my father, Roberta, Bill, Hillary, Pati, Eric, Linda and Rett, Erin... I went to classes at Fordham during the day and the moment I left, I started crying again, shrieking into the phone to my parents that I thought I had made a mistake. That I didn't remember why I decided to go to law school and that I didn't want to be here. After a few days, I made the decision to ask Fordham if I could defer my acceptance until the next year. I didn't know what I would do... I thought I would take my mother up on her offer to go to South Africa for some time, maybe I would go home to Ecuador for a few months while i collected myself...

On that Thursday afternoon, hours after I decided it was time to go and talk to Fordham about this, I got a call from Georgetown asking if I was still interested in taking a place in their class of 2012.

I sat on my bed those first two nights after getting the phone call crying and sobbing into the phone while Joel yelled at me and berated me, threatened to call his mother and make her call me, yelled I was being ridiculous... when I said "Joel, I'm terrified..." his response was "Well then go be terrified on the train down to D.C." Elise yelled her agreement with Joel in the background, I, through tears and hiccups stuttered out to Joel that I though I might disagree with him and then promptly hung up the phone because the very notion of telling Joel I disagreed with him shocked me. And yet the whole time I was saying I was "thinking about it" I knew i would never not do it. I agreed to accept the spot.

It is hardly worth recounting the next week. It is a huge blur of decisions, panicking, packing, crying, goodbyes, phone calls, forms and a perpetual state of shock.

I decided to try it. And once I had made the decision, I didn't cry, I didn't freak. I just decided to do it. Somehow, the idea of leaving New York and going to law school instead of staying for the same thing, calmed me. My parents couldn't believe I had made this decision to pack up and leave. Me, who was so terrified of change it has almost crippled me at times.

My mother, Steve and Sofie arrived and helped me pack. Everyone said I should do this. No one told me not to. Loren put my stuff in his car and drove me down to Washington D.C. on the Saturday night before classes started. And so began the rest of my life.

And it's a year later... It seems like the fastest year in the world and yet the amount that has been crammed into this year seems unbelievable. The people I have met, the family I have made, the experiences I have had, the inside jokes that have been formed.

I miss New York. Desperately at times. I am sitting in Courtside, supposedly doing research for a professor, and thinking about how I should be on the Cape. But I am not, I am too far right now... So it was my last summer in a way... Life has changed and I have extracted myself from the life that was beginning to suffocate me in NY. But I don't feel that pang in the same way... I made these choices and I am so thankful I did. I have gone back to things I love, things that excite me... and of course, i miss my family and my loves in New York. I feel lonely often, not having those friends to call up whenever I want... I feel alone in a way I haven't in a long time. But not regretful. I am here. For the first time since college, I am not in the past or the future. I am present.

GG&SS

2010-05-20T17:00:00.004-04:00

I am in love.

I am in love with a group of people. A group of people, that makes me happier than I have been in years. A group of people who have given me back a piece of myself I thought couldn't have back.

I left college and with it I left musical theater and the sheer joy I got from being in it, directing it, producing it, photographing it, lighting it.... anything. I left behind those rare people who are not only actors and singers, but academics and highly analytical. I was spoiled rotten by my experience at Simon's Rock. I was spoiled by John Weinstein, Gigi Teeley, Jay Embree, Kiko, Rich, Loren, Adam, Chloe, Rebecca, Lauren, Ardis, Evan, Jess, Tadd, Isaac, John William...

I left college and spent 3 years wondering if I could ever find this again - People like me, who love theater, love music, drama, art, but whom are philosophers, lawyers, historians, professors, psychologists...

4 days before the start of the school year, I was given the very last spot at Georgetown Law off the waitlist. A waitlist that had not moved for 2 months. A spot opened up 4 days before the start of school and it was given to me. Law school was not going to be my vehicle back into art. It was in many ways a resignation that i would not be doing this anymore, that i had to come to terms with that. But yes the world works in mysterious ways, and I was given this spot at Georgetown, the only law school with its very own theater group.

I cannot begin to chronicle the experiences that i have had over the past 9 months with this group. What I can say, is that suddenly, I find myself having perfect moments again. Moments where I feel like I am around people who really are like me, who get me... Moments where there is not the slightest shred of anything missing.

Maybe law school was not supposed to give me back a chance to sing, act, produce, do publicity, learn lighting design, hire directors... butI found this group, I was elected to the Board of Directors and... it just did. And that takes my breath away.

I'm in love with this.

Stepping back and looking in

2010-02-11T02:03:00.003-05:00

I'm back. To what? I don't know exactly. A million things.

To school, to theater, to reading, to academia, to jeans and snowboots, ponytails, a backpack, sweatshirts, naps, late nights, endless rehearsals, endless hours in the library... I'm back. I feel like me again. And for the first time since leaving college, I feel in my element.

It's strange, I always think of myself as a person who hates chance, who cannot stand to move, who hates uprooting and leaving people. Yet as I glance back over the last 3 and a half years of my life, and focus in on the past 6 months, I see that I thrive on change. I am terrified of it for sure, and I always am inclined to stay in my comfort zone... but I think about the week I decided to leave New York and come down to Georgetown, the car ride down, the moment I first stepped onto the Georgetown Law campus, which I had just committed myself to being at for the next three years of my life, leaving everything I knew, and I realize I loved that rush. I was excited. I was elated.

I am suddenly bolder. I think... Since coming down here I find myself less afraid to take a chance, say what I mean, say what I want.... and falling flat on my face doesn't faze me as much as it used to. The fear of not getting it, of going out on the limb, suddenly seems more worth it. I wish I could say this is because I have been getting good things out of this but that doesn't quite seem to be the case... and yet I feel bolder, braver and more able to go for it.

I miss New York. I miss my friends there, my family... But I do not feel far away. It seems right there. I have not left.

I am someplace new. I have met people over the past few months that I feel like I have known for years. New groups are forming, new friendships, new inside jokes, new traditions. People I never imagined I would be friends with before are suddenly people I adore.

I am tired and scared of failing. Scared of the debt that comes with this place. Scared of what happens if my performance is not on par... And yet I prioritize... I see that it is not worth it to me not to do the theater here that I love so much, not to be a part of these draining, exhausting, time-sucking shows to get slightly better grades. I love the learning, I love school (in my own non obsessive and non-gunner way) but I will not sacrifice certain things for it. Part of school for me is the mix. Theater and law. People who are both art and academia. People who are here to become lawyers, politicians, professors, activists and yet stay up until 1:30 in the morning to complete a 17 hour stage light hang. The show must go on.

I'm back. And yet I am someplace totally different.

On "Distance"

2009-12-08T02:37:00.003-05:00

On November 17th, 2007 I wrote a post about my fear of losing two of the people I love most in this world. On my unbearable feeling of distance from them, my worry about their happiness and health, my feelings of inadequacy about not being able to be there for them when they needed me, my fears of them not knowing how much I love them...

And now one is lost.

I sit here in my new life in Washington D.C. and cannot even start to accept it. I am not there. I was not able to be there for the memorial service... it happened to abruptly and I am too far.

And this distance, more than physical, is insulating me and suffocating me - keeping me together, keeping me numb. I tear a bit, but I am still together. And yet not whole...

My dearest Jay. My family. A man who never failed to be there for me in the best and worst of times. The man who without fail made me smile and believe that it would be ok. That I was strong, smart, beautiful, able to take on the world. A man who saw every performance I ever did or was a part of at Simon's Rock. A man who somehow knew everything about me and always knew what to say.

A brilliant man. A passionate man. A tender and loving man. A man who was so loved by so many people, I can't even begin to describe it.

We shared laughs, musical theater, dinners, jokes, mutual frustrations, friends, and even the family we selected for ourselves in that world that was Simon's Rock. The world I created, the family we made from our bonds over musical theater, and that we all loved and who changed my life.

I cannot feel it. I was too scared of it happening to feel it. Sudden, shock, grief, guilt, fear, numbness, anger, regret, love, memories.

Man in the Mirror

2009-06-26T16:12:00.002-04:00

I am shocked at the intensity of my grief over the death of one of the greatest, if not the greatest, artists and entertainers of my lifetime. Michael Jackson changed the terrain of pop music and dance and his legacy almost defies description.

An incredible talent that was never stunted despite the tragedy that was his life. Looking back on the entire picture of who he was and what he lived, it is unspeakably sad. It is not only heartbreaking but also incredible that he gave what he gave despite the psychological damages that came from his horribly abused childhood.

We forgot for so long to remember his contributions to the world, not only in music, but in raising aids awareness, money to stop child hunger and so many other important things. All of his goodness was lost amidst the media frenzy that followed him and slowly helped destroy him. Even just a couple of years ago I would insist that he was a lunatic and truly off the wall... But how easily we neglect to look at the circumstances that create the situations we judge. The lost innoncence of his childhood, the constant surroundings of manipulative and abusive people throughout his life created a broken man who slowly self destructed. He was taken advantage of at every turn and it is truly a tragedy to think of the life Micheal Jackson lived. I desperately hope that the collective memory of him will remember to acknowledge why he became who he was in the later parts of his life.

The world has lost a truly great artist, an admirable philanthropist and a wonderful heart. If there is another world, I hope he is happier in it than he was in this one.

Gotta make a change, For once in my life
It's gonna feel real good, Gonna make a difference
Gonna make it right
As I turned up the collar on a favorite winter coat
This wind is blowin' my mind
I see the kids in the street
With not enough to eat
Who am I to be blind
Pretending not to see their needs
A summer's disregard, A broken bottle top
And a one man's soul
They follow each other on the wind ya' know
'Cause they got nowhere to go

That's why I want you to know

I'm starting with the man in the mirror
I'm asking him to change his ways
And no message could have been any clearer
If you wanna make the world a better place
Take a look at yourself and then make a change

I've been a victim of a selfish kinda love
It's time that I realize
There are some with no home, Not a nickel to loan
Could it be really pretending that they're not alone
A willow deeply scarred, Somebody's broken heart
And a washed out dream
They follow the pattern of the wind ya' see

'Cause they got no place to be
That's why I'm starting with me
I'm starting with the man in the mirror
I'm asking him to change his ways
And no message could have been any clearer
If you wanna make the world a better place
Take a look at yourself and then make a change

Oso

2009-06-18T13:19:00.005-04:00

My mom had to put our boy Oso down today. I have never been the type of person who really makes dogs a part of the family (although I have certainly had some who I feel that way about) but Oso and Mackie have been "the boys" for the past 10 years.

We got Oso from our friends Patty and Trevor who were moving home to South Africa after having been robber and tied up in their house. Oso had tried to run for help but no one had paid any attention to him. When we got him he was about a year and a half old and was fairly traumatized by the experience. For a couple of years, he was loyal only to my mother and would snap things that triggered his memories of the robbery. I personally was not a big fan of Oso throughout those years. My mom adored him though.

It wasn't until two things happened that I feel in love with him:

1. My mom went to Cuba for 2 weeks when I was about 16 and in her absence, Oso started following me around and slept at the foot of my bed. Protecting me and for the first time showing me affection.

2. We got Mackie. A tiny, adorable dalmatian puppy. The day we got him we worried immensely that Oso would not take to him and that he would hurt him. That first night though, Mackie did not cry at all, the way most puppies do. I got up to check on him in the middle of the night and found Mackie sleeping ontop of Oso on the couch. From that day on, they were inseperable. Oso took care of Mackie and let him do whatever he pleased. There were nights when the two dogs would start out sleeping together on the couch (Oso's throne for many years) and by the next morning, Oso would be sleeping on the floor and Mackie would be sprawled out on the couch...

Oso raised Mackie and made him the easiest puppy and most loyal and intelligent dog by example. We took them on vacations with us and back and forth with us to Quito. They never misbehaved and were always together. They were "the boys" of the family. They slept together up until Oso's last night.

As Oso got older he got over his quirks and stopped snapping at people. He became loyal to our whole family. He was the kindest and most wonderful dog imaginable and kind of exuded a regal wisdom in the way he carried himself. I fell in love with that dog. And so did everyone else. He would have done anything for our family and for Mackie and we in turn for him.

This morning, as my mother put Oso down, Mackie stood next to him and cried.

He will be so missed.

My Grandmother Harriet Sachs

2008-12-24T13:36:00.000-05:00

Today my mother opened up a book about Hannukah that my grandmother had given us as a gift over 15 years ago. In the pages she found a letter my grandmother had written to my sister and I (then aged 2 and 7) and left in the book. Whether she meant for us to find it then or now we don't know but 15 years later, and close to 9 years since her death, this is really a beautiful thing to find. She speaks of learning and acceptance, timeless issues, appropriate for both a 7 year old and for a 23 year old. Here is her letter -

August 21, 1993

Dearest Maia and Sofia,

As I sit looking out of my bedroom window at a beautiful tree which is like a soft green curtain with flickering of light through the leaves, I think of how much I love you both and how I want to share some my most thoughtful ideas with you.

I am so happy that you are now finding another beautiful country where you can enjoy other relatives, learn about how other people live and what they think, and you can also see first hand one of the most beautiful countries in the world. Ecuador has more unusual birds and flowers than most any other country.

From my own experience, please remember that the most important learning is to learn HOW to think, not only what to think. Never be afraid to try and understand the other side of what you believe to be the truth. If you do that, and it isn't always easy, you will be much more sure of that which you believe to true. Also remember that at times, there is a little bit of truth on both sides. People who disagree with you may be wrong, but they may still be good people.Never be afraid to change your mind if you believe that you have learned something new that changes your opinion. If you still believe what you think to be true, hold to your beliefs.

Grandma Harriet Sachs
Brooklyn, New York

Tears I didn't feel

2008-12-23T22:28:00.007-05:00

As I was curling up on my couch to watch a movie on Sunday, my phone rang. I picked up with the sing-song voice I use when I speak with Rachel, one of my sisters from Camp K, "Heeey Lovey!"

"I have some news. Emma Bee died. She killed herself."

silence.

What to do? What to say? Emma. One of the 14 Pieheit girls. Ile, Rachel B, Rachel O, Rachel M, Marianna, Emma Lang, Rebecca, Sara, Tracy, Leah, Shauni, Jojo, me, Emma Bee...

I spoke with Rachel for another few moments and then hung up, agreeing to speak later. I sat on the couch for a moment and then went into my room to call Tracy and Rebecca to let them know. As I did, I realized that tears were slipping down my face. But I didn't feel them. I didn't feel the stinging as they came into my eyes...I didn't feel pain. I felt nothing, and still I was crying.

I haven't seen Emma in 4 or 5 years. She drifted away from from all of us when she went to school in Chicago. Our bunk, Pieheit as we called ourselves, so close for a few years, remained only in fragments. Me, Tracy and Rebecca. Rachel O and Rachel B. Rachel B and me. Ileana, Jojo, Rachel and Shauni. Rebecca and Emma L. Bunk emails, that once came by the dozens every day, reduced to maybe one per year.

Emma Bee and I were never individually that close. We had never gotten together just the two of us...I don't think there are any pictures of just the two of us...But it doesn't matter. The bunk was a unit. Our counselors and the boys from our group always said we were the closest bunk they had ever seen. The bunk, so cliquey and divided as campers, had melted together and unified during our two CIT years. Not that easily. We worked at it. We wanted it to work. We had bunk meetings every night, sitting on the floor of our cabin in a circle, playing high-low, gossiping, laughing, crying, naming our breasts, trying to get the boys in trouble, drawing on eachother, making memories... We had reunions in the city during the year. We sent innumerable bunk emails to the group. We created lists and lists of inside jokes, wrote bus letters to every single girl in the bunk to take home... we worked at it and we did succeed. While Emma Bee and I may not have individually that close we were in the same bond that held all of us. Sure we all secretely thought that some of us were annoying, bratty, slutty, whatever... of course we gossipped and had little ripples in the unit that was us... and yet I think all of us loved and adored eachother, like family you may not often see but are bonded to by ties that are not conscious.

And then we drifted. With only the fragments remaining. Nonetheless we all spoke of eachother often, reminisced about our bunk when we saw eachother... There are two framed pictures of the group on my wall... almost every one of the girls I continue to be close with has at least one of us on her wall.

It's heartbreaking to lose one of us. But I don't feel it the way I think I should. I cried because someplace my body knows that's what it is supposed to do. I am conscious in my grieving. Thinking about Emma, trying to remember fun stuff we did together, funny things she did or said, looking at pictures... Making myself know that she is gone, making myself grieve. But it is not inescapable. I escape it whenever I am not actively doing it. Why? Shouldn't this tear me up? Shouldn't I sob and be unable to think of anything but her and the tragedy of such a young, creative, beautiful and vibrant young woman whom I once considered my sister, taking her own life?

And yet I don't and I can...So I make myself remember her. Out of my love for her. Despite not having spoken to her or seen her in years, my love for her, the ties that defy consciousness, make me insist to myself that I grieve.
I still love you Emma.

and then

2008-12-02T14:06:00.002-05:00

you decide to take yourself away from the entire situation. through a long talk with a friend about the dynamics of the group and that house, you realize it is consuming. Like an addiction that you want to be around and yet never ever makes you more than momentarily happy. You start to realize that the entire world you are living in is causing pain, self-esteem issues, and that you generally feel inferior and unloved, despite that not being the intention of those who are causing it. Maybe they adore you... but maybe the way you see them make it impossible to fully comprehend that.

in the end that is the truth. perhaps they all adore me and love me, but i never walk away feeling anything less than judged, inferior, not cool enough...and at the same time i understand that the dynamic of the group is something i do not like in general. it is juvenile, petty and selfserving and i do not want to want to be in it. i do not want to feel like an outsider, never really a part of it... never really missed when not there... always on the periphery, because i do not want to fully be a part of it either.

so... i walk away? I remove myself? I pick the couple of people who i think are worth it and see them individually? just stop calling, texting, iming... until what? how long until i stop wanting to?

like an addiction...

What do you do -

2008-12-01T16:36:00.003-05:00

when that line gets crossed? What is the appropriate, rational, non-dramatic way to deal with the discomfort, squeamishness, confusion and frusteration that inevitably occurs when your friend starts to cross that line between friendship and more? Especially in a situation where everything is underhanded, nothing made direct or explicit, but rather is just a sequence of comments, touches, kisses, feelings, that have led you to realize that either something is going on and their feelings for you are more than platonic, or that their interpretation of what is OK for friends to do is completely different than yours?

What if the behavior is actually the same as it has always been? What if it is my boundaries and comofort levels that have shifted, making me angry and upset at something that would not have previously bothered me? How can you hold someone else responsible for that?

But then, what if there is actually something going on and all my friends have been right for years when they said that this person did not just view me as a friend but rather was repressing deeper feelings? Where does that leave our relationship? How do I trust anything that he has said or done? Advice given regarding my interests now seems completely irrelevant... how do I know what he has done, even subconsciously perhaps, that might have changed the course of events in my life, and my prospects for relationships?

And how do you have this conversation with someone when you don't even want see them period? How can I take my friends' advice to just go and clear it up, when the whole thing makes me so uncomfortable I don't even want to be in the same room?

I know this is not a reasonable reaction, nor is it a mature one... but I can't help it. I just want it to go away.

Yes we did.

2008-11-05T15:01:00.002-05:00

The energy of the city last night filled every inch of me with the most ecstatic and yet peaceful joy and hope I ever felt. As we walked down the streets around Times Square people slapped high-fives with us and joined our chants. "Yes we did! Yes we did!"

We stood in the crowds of Times Square and somehow the masses of people that tend to annoyingly congregate there have never felt more pleasant or friendly and at home. No pushing, no screaming, no jostling... Everyone stood smiling, crying, talking to eachother as though we were all friends. For the first time, everyone there was united. We all shared this inmense joy that we had just elected Barack Hussein Obama to be the next President of the United States.

Never can I remember a moment where the city felt so united. Never can I remember feeling so elated over something so huge.

The big screens over Times Square flashed his face and the words "President-elect Barack Obama" for the first time and the crowd errupted. I grabbed Erin and as we hugged eachother we both cried. Lauren jumped up and down excitedly and we all embraced whispering "we did it. we did it... ". Aimee had tears running down her face. Nick, Adam and Eric stood a few feet away staring up at the screen as though they couldn't even take it in. The crowd chanted "Obama! Obama! Obama!" over and over again.

As we walked back to Eric's apartment to watch the victory speech and drink champagne we mused over how this was the most incredible night of our lives...the most important... the start of a new world.

I turned on my cell phone and found dozens of text messages proclaiming " WE WON!" "FUCK YEAH!" "YES WE CAN!". Oliver called to share the joy and we spoke to eachother in wonder at what we were experiencing.

Hours later, as we walked to the train there were still crowds in Times Square coming up with chants, singing, dancing, hugging...

We just made the defining moment of our generation. We cannot forget it. We won.

"If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible; who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time; who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer.

Its the answer told by lines that stretched around schools and churches in numbers this nation has never seen; by people who waited three hours and four hours, many for the very first time in their lives, because they believed that this time must be different; that their voice could be that difference.

Its the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Latino, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled - Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been a collection of Red States and Blue States: we are, and always will be, the United States of America.

Its the answer that led those who have been told for so long by so many to be cynical, and fearful, and doubtful of what we can achieve to put their hands on the arc of history and bend it once more toward the hope of a better day.

Its been a long time coming, but tonight, because of what we did on this day, in this election, at this defining moment, change has come to America."
- -President-elect Barack Obama

Hazy...

2008-09-28T23:27:00.002-04:00

...on everything. I can't focus. I can't feel anything good. I can't really feel anything bad either. I am just here. trying to make sense of my life, thoughts, emotions, desires, second order desires...

trying to feel and at the same time not to feel too much... I am existing in a state of confusion. restless and exhausted all at the same time. worried, paranoid, terrified and at the same time totally dismissive. miserable and numb coexisting within me.

"But all that I know is I'm breathing.
All i can do is keep breathing.
All we can do is keep breathing now."

What I will remember and what I won't

2008-09-25T17:32:00.013-04:00

We fought for the freedom and fun of summer until the very end. We demanded one last perfect weekend on Cape Cod with beautiful clear skies, beach days, ice cream, sailing and drive-in movies. We demanded it and we got it. Perfect winds and seas for us to learn how to sail, a bonfire on the beach and freezing water for us to jump into and play in at 1am, a warm day with dense summer air for a game of mini-golf...
As we sailed on a perfect ocean, all of us in our bathing suits, drinking wine and eating strawberries, we passed other boats with people on them who had succumed to fall and were dressed in jeans, sweaters and scarves. It was like looking at a different world. In their minds, the summer was over and subsequently, the perfect weather did not make a difference in regards to how they would dress and what they would do. But not us. It was our last weekend of the summer.

Fighting out the summer in such a decisive and seemingly perfect way will cause a divide in my memories of the weekend. We felt so triumphant that the weather was perfect and that we had made it out to the Cape in late september because we were just NOT DONE WITH SUMMER.

A year or two from now I will remember that perfect day sailing, cuddling with Loren and eating icecream and hotdogs at the drive-in movie theater, playing an atrocious game of mini golf, sleeping curled up into Oliver with his arms around me, joking and bonding with Megan...

I'll remember the theme songs of the weekend, Jungle Love and Making my Dreams Come True...

I'll remember how giggling uncontrollably for a half hour after, while cuddling under the covers, Oliver accidentally kicked me in the shins and I instantaneously spat on his chest without even knowing what I had done...
I'll remember those hilarious noises that Loren was making as we watched Live Free or Die Hard, all four of us snuggled into one big bed together on our first night there...
I'll remember running around the beach chasing eachother under the perfect moon, and splashing in the freezing water... I'll remember how I stood alone waist deep in the ocean staring up at the moon long after everyone else had gone back to warm up by our little bonfire. I'll remember how perfect I felt at that moment, wearing my white bikini, my long hair just barely damp against my back, my skin silver in that light... I'll remember going back to the fire and passing around a bottle of wine as we discussed how we had all changed over the summer...
i might remember the perfect walk I took on the beach the next day. All alone again. I walked down the sand, occasionally veering into the water and going in up to my knees. I sat down right above the tide line and stared out at the ocean with a perfect afternoon sun over me and a soft breeze.

If you look at our pictures you will see that perfection. The happiness, the freedom, the love, the laughter and the deep friendships between the four of us that weekend.

So here is what I may not recall when looking at these pictures -

I won't remember that when I was standing under the moon in the waves, I was just trying to desperately to keep myself together and not break down into tears. I won't remember that I was trying to keep away the hurt I was feeling. I won't remember that i was trying to talk myself out of being so unhappy and so hurt.
I won't remember that when I took that walk on the beach the next day, and I once again centered myself in my body and felt absolutely perfect, that feeling was marred by the fact that I knew that as soon as I returned to sit on the sand with the rest of them, that feeling would be gone and I would once again feel self-conscious and imperfect.
I really hope I won't remember the dreams I had and the first thoughts I had when I woke up on Sunday morning. I'll try to forget my breathing as I fell asleep on Saturday night... I'll try to forget that on Sunday when we got home the tensions rose and there was once more drama in our perfect little group. I'll try to forget my confusion of the fact that we had been so close and so perfect one day, and just two days latter my faith in our bonds and my faith in our love for eachother had shattered into insecurity, self-doubt, obsessing, and hurting...
******
We fought out the summer.
We wore shorts, bathing suits and flipflops. We were happy and perfect.
And then on Monday, we came home and for the first time this season, I wore a jacket to work.

The Statement of Intent. # 1

2008-07-16T01:04:00.003-04:00

Now that I have taken my LSATs, the next hurdle to cross on my path to law school is writing that perfect statement of intent. That beautifully polished, elegantly and intellectually written, two page essay on myself and why I am special, interesting, important, unique...
Why should a school take me, with an excellent GPA and decent LSAT scores, out of the hordes of students with perfect GPA's and 175's on their LSATs, and ask me to attend their school?
I have a million reasons and for now no idea how to structure them into two pages that will capitvate the admissions committee, stand out from thousands of other essays, and convince them that I am worth it.
Of course, half of what makes one a good candidate is the ability to draft this piece of writing. To marshall all the bits and pieces of my thoughts, my life, my accomplishments, and my failures into something concise and compelling.
My game plan - to use this space to do a sort of free write. Write short essays or paragraphs on topics that I believe might be worth taking into my statement of intent. Lists of things I think are interesting about myself. Short choppy sentences that lay down my ideas about structure, content, themes, styles... I have to believe that after all of this, or during, something will begin to take shape.

Joel approved pieces of information that make me stand out and thus should be included in my statement (and a few of my own that have yet to be approved by the brilliant Bernanke mind):

I am a "hot latina". This is only a half joke.
I spent half of my childhood and about a third of my life living in Ecuador.
I am fully bilingual.
I chose to leave my family in Ecuador a 16 and come to college 3000 miles away 2 years ahead of schedule.
As a child I lived in a place where I met thousands of people from all over the world, who did all different sorts of things, and who taught me and influenced my life in ways that others do not have the opportunity to experience. I learned from a vast range of cultures, continents, academic and professional fields, ages, and political and cultural perspectives.
I am a Philosopher. I am also an artist and a performer.
I want to do artists rights law and I also want to be involved in humanitarian and political work.
I have worked in both not for profit law offices and corporate international firms.
I have been everything from a paralegal to an assistant director for musical theater to a graphic designer.
I wrote an honors thesis that merged my interests in photography with my interest in ethics and human rights.
I find what I want to do and I pursue it tirelessly. I love having passion for something. I love WANTING something. I love doing something that is hard but I know I will eventually succeed at.
My future as a lawyer may have been laid out for me at birth, with my ultra political parents, legal aid attorney mother, her hordes of attorney friends, but I diverged from that path for years. I decided not to be a lawyer and decided to do many other things. This decision did not come from the pressures of my upbringing. On the contrary I may have rejected it for a while because of it. This decision was of course influenced by this upbringing and yet it is entirely my decision that I have come to on my own, and in something of a round about way.
I believe that the law is intrical to all parts of our society. I believe it is an essential tool for understanding, improving, working with, molding and harmonizing our world. I believe it is applicable to almost any field and that ones knowledge of the law can only help them in anything they wish to do, whether it is primarily or secondarily.

Defining Political Moments of a Generation

2008-06-04T12:20:00.003-04:00

Last night, June 3rd 2008, Senator Barack Obama officially became the first black man to win the Democratic nomination for President of the United States.

For us long time Obama supporters it came as a huge relief but not so much of a surprise as we had fully expected it (though carefully and not wanting to jinx it!) for the past month or two. Nonetheless, there is definitive happiness and pride in the air amongst those of us who have believed in him since the beginning.

Last night I sat in my living room alone, in my pajamas, curled up on the couch with a couple of pillows, and I watched his speech. And towards the end of it, tears came to my eyes and I started to cry... and I wondered, will this be the defining political moment of our generation? Will last night be the night we always remember and tell our children about?
Will I always remember sitting on my couch, alone, watching T.V. and crying and smiling and feeling hopeful for the first time in a long time?

The race to defeat the Republicans begins now. And I believe it will be harder and more painful than I did before... And that the happiness and elation of last night may soon fade into frusteration and fear as Obama and McCain duke it out for the Presidency...
But I do believe, that in a few months, I will be with a group of friends who have also believed in Senator Obama since the beginning of this long race, watching him accept the Presidency. And I think that that will certainly be the night we will always remember.

"America, this is our moment. This is our time, our time to turn the page on the policies of the past…

… our time to bring new energy and new ideas to the challenges we face, our time to offer a new direction for this country that we love.
The journey will be difficult. The road will be long. I face this challenge — I face this challenge with profound humility and knowledge of my own limitations, but I also face it with limitless faith in the capacity of the American people.
Because if we are willing to work for it, and fight for it, and believe in it, then I am absolutely certain that, generations from now, we will be able to look back and tell our children that this was the moment when we began to provide care for the sick and good jobs to the jobless…

… this was the moment when the rise of the oceans began to slow and our planet began to heal…

… this was the moment when we ended a war, and secured our nation, and restored our image as the last, best hope on Earth.

This was the moment, this was the time when we came together to remake this great nation so that it may always reflect our very best selves and our highest ideals."

- Senator Barack Obama, June 3rd, 2008

Needing the crunch

2008-04-17T00:47:00.002-04:00

I just started my LSAT class. Well actually, my first actual class is tomorrow evening. I had my diagnostic on Monday.
Before the diagnostic, I tried hard to study and practice... I needed to prove to myself that I was capable of doing well on this test. And I did. Untimed, and in a relaxed setting, the day before the actual diagnostic, I scored my test at a 169.

Then I arrive in the classroom for my test, and I get a little jittery... Its a medium sized room, with about twenty-five people in it, flourecent lighting, and a young, very high energy instructor. The first section of the test starts and suddenly, on question nineteen, six short of finishing the section, the instructor calls out that there is one minute left.
Damn it! I write in guesses for the last five questions and then we are moving on to section to.

OK Maia... pick up the pace. I try. I try to work faster and keep myself in check over obsessing on questions that I am unsure of. Keep moving!
And still, the entire test, I am usually about four or five short of finishing the section.
And when I get to the last five minutes, I am so freaked out that I can barely make rational decisions regarding what to skip, what to focus on, where to guess, how to narrow down answers... I flail, for lack of a better word.

When the test is over I feel like am collapsing onto myself. Totally drained. Oddly though, the draining feels like I am emotionally drained, not physically or intellectually. I feel like I have been up all night fighting or crying.

I score my test when I get home. Fifteen points down from my untimed test.
So I now know my problem will be time and stress... Can I do this? I start to freak out. I want to do well. I need to do well. I will make myself do well. I am smart enough.... but damn it, this is not good.

All I have wanted to do for the last three days is study. And yet, there is nothing for me to study. It is clearly useless to continue working on my own. I have proved that I have the mental capacity to solve these problems. Now I need to be taught the strategies for doing them much more quickly. And so far, we haven't been taught anything.

But I am craving the push to do something well... The stress and the productiveness within it. The feeling that I am making something happen. Something I will be proud of. I have missed this. I have missed the crunch.

P.S. I asked a friend of mine who currently goes to Harvard Law about his diagnostic LSAT and he actually scored 2 points beneath mine... and a month and a half of class later, walked out of the LSAT with a 170. I feel a little better... I know I can do this.

Fragments

2008-04-08T23:46:00.002-04:00

I realize that the things I write about on this, so sporadically, so few and far between, are tiny little slivers of my life. For the most part, what makes it onto here is just a small fragment of my life - a small fragment that I have chosen to magnify in writing. There isn't even a particular rhyme or reason to the types of things I choose to do this with. And I realize, that in 5 or 10 or 15 years, when I look back on these things, I will barely be able to get a semblance of a memory of what my life was really like at the time of these posts. All that will be recorded are these magnifications of pieces of my life. Ones which might not even be intrinsically important, but which I have made important by the act of writing about them and choosing them as the piece of my life which I should focus on and write on.

_____

I find it so interesting, how a relationship between people can change so much, without anything really sparking that change. Or rather, how feelings for a person, or between people can transform. And then I wonder, if something HAD happened that would have been worthy of igniting a change, would feelings have stayed the same?
That makes no sense.
OK. What I am saying is... I can't help but wonder, now that I feel myself slowly but surely detaching my emotions from NC and also gaining the ability to look at him objectively, and thus seeing things which I find so unattractive and so disappointing, how might the course have been had I chosen to act on things? Not even how would things have been different between us, (though they clearly would have been, for better or for worse) but rather, how would my emotions be different now?
I find this depth of unexplored feelings in myself fascinating. I find this lack of knowledge about where the other party stood disconcerting. I have never been here before. I have never let something, that I cared about at all, fade away without trying to find its potential...

Now that I write that I find that odd. But I realize how true it is. I generally think of myself as someone who does not act on her feelings. I believe myself to be someone who holds them back, out of fear of rejection. I believe that my fear of rejection is so great that I miss out.
And suddenly I see that in the things that have mattered to me, that is not true. I have always said something. I have always tried to fight for my feelings and for what I want. Sometimes with bad results... less times with good ones. But I always have known... Or had some sort of idea of what was there.

So in the first time that I did not do a thing, I find myself totally bewildered by my lack of knowledge about something I cared about. Because I did nothing. And yet I don't think I should have. Is the fact that I did nothing indicative of how much it meant to me? Or more like, how little it did? That doesn't seem fair to say...

Circles

2008-02-12T15:08:00.000-05:00

Last night on my way home, as I stood on the subway platform at Jay Street, I saw someone I used to know. He was a counselor of mine when I was 13, my first summer at Camp Kinderland. I have run into him a couple of times throughout the years and I have seen him on the train on my way to work a couple of times. Once or twice I said hi. Honestly though, I am never really sure if he remembers my name or EXACTLY who I am, so it is a bit awkward.

I chose not to say anything last night. He was standing right near me talking to a woman and I just didn't feel that it would be worth the effort, though it looked like he might have noticed me standing there. As I stood there, waiting for the train, I started thinking about time and who I am and the random connections you go through life making. I met this man almost ten years ago, when I was a kid at summer camp, 13 years old, living in Ecuador with my parents after having moved there from Brooklyn 4 years before, and at camp in the states as part of my summer vacation. He was 23, out of college, aproximately at the same place in life that i am now.

***

There was another counselor there that year, who was also 23 at the time. He was the one who I later fell in love with and spent 5 years in an insanely frusterating and painful pattern with. He and I no longer know eachother. Our lives always, though never close enough to intertwine harmoniously, seemed to be inextricable from eachother for years. We always lapsed back to eachother and the bizarre and intense connection we had, that we had first discovered that summer at camp, when I was a kid and he was my counselor and we, though our rleationwhip was not at all innappropriate - or anything other than professional -, left deeper footprints in eachother than was normal for a counselor and one of his kids.
Our lives circled around eachother for years, intersecting at a couple of points, like a ven diagram, until we put a stop to it and forced ourselves out. (Though I have to say that I think I really was the one to force a full extraction as I think he would have been happy to continue the cycle)
And so we are. Seperate. Different people, different jobs, different friends, different cities, different lives, with almost no convergance in our paths.

***

And then last night, I was standing on a subway platform, and there was the other counselor. One who I knew much less. Who did not make a deeper imprint on my heart. Who does not even necesarilly remember my name. But there we are, living in the same borough, off the same subway line, going to work and returning at the same time on a somewhat regular basis, and yet so unconnected that we don't even feel the need to say hi to eachother.

****

Today, I walk down the street to get lunch and it occurs to me that I am now working within the same 2 block radius of where my mother worked for the majority of adult life. She was a young lawyer, working for a non-for profit criminal defense office, living in Brooklyn. She later moved to Ecuador with her husband and two daughters and stayed there. And I, the oldest, now find myself living in Brooklyn, one neighborhood over from where I grew up, working in the same immediate area where she did, for a non-for profit criminal law office, and for her best friend for the past 20 plus years.

A new day, a new life - and still just a continuation

2008-02-11T14:13:00.000-05:00

I am in culture shock. Who would have thought that switching from one job in the legal field to another, in the same city, would be so strange.
It must be the difference between the corporate (private) sector and the public one.

Things do not run like clockwork here. There was no set string of procedures for me to go through on my first day. In fact, they weren't quite sure what to do with me for a while as the person who was supposed to help set me up is out sick.

So I am sitting here, in my new office, which is all mine and has corner windows, trying to make sense of all this. I need to make this place mine. Make myself comfortable enough to get over the cramps in my stomach that have kept me slouched over all morning...
There is stuff all over teh desk that was left from the previous person who had this job. Envelopes, letters, papers, emails... I don't know what to do with any of it and having it around makes me feel like an outsider.

I am on a hall with almost all women... how strange! After having been one of the only women on a hall full of men for the past year, this makes no sense to me.

I am scattered... I have no routine... I am lost... excited... terrified... panicked... homesick, elated, depressed, curious...

******

He called me this morning to say hi. He said he wanted to be the first person to call me at my new office. The purpose of the conversation, on both ends, seemed to be to reiterate to eachother how drunk we were the other night, so that perhaps, anything that was sad or implied could be chalked up to that later on. I couldn't hide how happy I was to hear from him. And yet I know something has been lost in my feelings for him. The awe, the respect I felt, is no longer there... Still I desperately want to have him in my life as a friend. Want to go out drinking and play buckhunter with him later in the week. It's as though, in my eyes, he is meant to be in my life in some way. He gets to me and I want him there. And intitally it seemed that what I wanted was more than friendship... and now that is not something I can imagine with him (not that it ever really presented itself as an option anyway), but that does not make me want him to play a role in my life any less... it just causes me to alter my perceptions of what I want that role to be.

******

Life is altering itself before me. I am back to my jeans, boots, sweater... light makeup, no jewlery... I am both relieved and fearful of this change in my appearance. My daily requirements of myself. I feel more myself, and yet, I am uncomfortable.

It is as though I have come home after a year abroad. A place that I know, that I know should feel right, but something is off - I have changed and do not quite know how to settle back in. Mostly because it seems that it should come naturally... though it doesn't.

separation anxiety

2008-02-11T00:33:00.000-05:00

I have it. In a very serious way.
When I was in college, and I had to deal with transitions on a fairly regular basis (summer vacations, intersession, weeks off during the year, the change of people at the start of every semester) I understood it. I learned how to cope with it... Well, as best I could.
But I knew it would happen, I knew how it happened, I knew what to expect and I knew how I would eventually get through it.

However the last year and a half has been stagnant. I have been in the same city and at the same job with the same friends (for the most part). I forgot about my separation issues.
And then they hit - hard.

Three days before I leave my job to start a new one, I start to cry, I start to feel depressed... clingy... unsure of what to do with myself.
The day I leave Gibson Dunn, I sob. I reject a hug from the person I have the most anxiety about leaving because I cannot cope with this change. This change that means I will not see him everyday. So he goes to hug me and I push him away.
I leave the building with some friends and I cry. On the train home later that night, I cry more.

Last night, I go out with people from Gibson Dunn and he is there... and I have a ball seeing everyone. Playing beer pong in the rain, dancing, drinking, joking. But I am scared and depressed because I am so desperately afraid of losing people. I am angry at him because he is cheating on his girlfriend before my very eyes and I am swelling with a mixture of dissapointment, rage, jealousy, sadness...

I am furious because he is so shameless in cheating on his girlfriend in front of all of his friends. I am sad because I was convinced that this was the first person I had felt something for who might actually be a good person who I could admire. I am dissapointed in him because he is not. I am jealous because I wanted to be that girl. I am thankful I am not his girlfriend. And I am enraged with myself because I see what he is doing, and still I want him.
I am confused because I don't know how to handle him anymore. Because I do not work with him anymore... and now the lines of our relationship and friendship are blurrier. I do not have to see him Monday morning. I can ignore him. I can also cross lines I was not allowed to before. But I don't know the boundaries yet. I don't even know that we have enough of a friendship to make boundaries. I don't know what kind of part he will play in my life anymore.
So I do the only thing that seems instinctual - I am passive aggressive. I make snide comments about him being sleazy. I turn away from him and his attempts at conversation. I snap at him when he tries to touch me.

And since then, I obsess over it. I am angry. I overanalyze. Will he be angry at me for being mean? Will he be angry at me for having told other people at the party what he was doing? Why should I care? I am angry at him afterall. Does he care that i am angry? Does he remember? Will he contact me? Did I make it blatantly obvious that I have feelings for him? Does it even matter if he knows? Would it be better if he did?

All of which comes back to the fact that I am so used to seeing him everyday, to our daily banter and office chit chat, to our rubber band shooting, our snippy flirty emails which we send despite sitting 10 feet away from eachother - I am so used to these things that I don't know how to handle these thing not being the norm. And more than that, I cannot handle not knowing what will become the norm.

Sadly and proudly me

2008-01-07T23:35:00.000-05:00

I majored in two different subjects that had nothing to do with one another. I minored in a third that had just as little to do with any of my majors.

To support my majors I interned with a graphic designer for a semester in college and then spent two summers interning at a law office. Despite that, the majority of my work experience is in musical theater, my unofficial minor.

I did two independent projects in photography and graphic design, a tutorial in building my design and photography portfolio, put up a photography exhibit my senior year, but I wrote my thesis in philosophy and spent an equal amount of time doing musical theater that year.

I spent two full years studying musical theater - performing, directing, production, history - , four learning how to be a pretty great academic and philosophical writer, but I am not an expert at any of those fields in musical theater nor can I write a personal essay or piece of prose to save my life.

I spent years researching art schools to attend for a masters program (in either graphic design or photography) but ended up becoming a legal assistant after college.

I am an excellent academic writer, have a great eye for photography, a decent amount of design talent, a great debater, a good director, and an OK singer for my 3rd year of seriously working on it. Singing is the only one of these things that I consistently and actively continue to do after college (despite the occasional photography project).

I hate working at a job that I think is soulless, useless, and completely uncreative. But I also love going to plays, Broadway musicals, concerts, and shopping.

I think that I would do well in Law school and be a very successful lawyer but I am afraid to take the LSAT. So afraid in fact, that I am scared to take a diagnostic test.

One of my best friends recently told me that she thinks I always have the upper hand with my friends and the men in my life and that I am in control of my love life. I think that I lack self-esteem, that I am generally a pushover, have no men in my life that have any prospect of turning into even a casual relationship, and have zero control of my love life, mainly because I have none. This same friend thinks that all my male friends are in love with me. I think that it is generally the case that one or two of my close male friends has had feelings for me since I was about 14 but never once has one of them been someone I was actually interested in.

My mom told me a few months ago that if I lost a few pounds I could have any guy I wanted. My friends tell me if I had a little more confidence and was a little more proactive I could get the guys I want.

I generally think I am pretty attractive but for some reason end up feeling like the "friend" of the hot girls in most situations.

I think I am talented in a lot of areas but not fabulous at any of them.
I spent a huge amount of my life becoming well rounded and as a result have no clear path to take.
I lived in a foreign country in South America for 7 years. As a result I have had a worldlier life experience that most of my friends but have traveled less than them throughout my life.

I am told I am a great friend and I know that I love my friends to pieces. Yet I find myself constantly irritated by them or griping about them and then I feel like a terrible friend.

I am constantly jealous of my friends who are with boyfriends they are totally in love with and I wonder what is wrong with me that that never ever seems to be me. But I also would never ever date any of their boyfriends.

I have never ever settled for a guy and all the ones I have been with have been extremely physically attractive and ones that I was wild over... yet I sometimes think that I go for guys who are not in my league.

I ask advice from my friends for everything but if I already know I want to do something it is almost impossible to talk me out of it.

I give amazing advice to my friends and family in a myriad of aspects of life and am told so time and time again. I cannot give myself advice at all and am generally left totally at a loss in the face of anything important in my own life.

That's me. Awesome in theory, not so much in reality?
Good at a lot of things, great at none. Great at helping others but never myself.

It's my birthday

2007-11-28T00:15:00.001-05:00

I am older... not sure if I am wiser.
I am definitely not clearer...I am most certainly more confused.
My hair is longer. It is insanely long now.
I am probably in better shape physically than I was a year ago... I don't know about emotionally.

I don't know where the last year went. I don't know what changed or what I did or what I discovered.

Before the next November 28th I will do 3 things at least -

I will at least apply to graduate school.
I will work on making my life something more engaging than it is now.
I will be able to sing Defying Gravity.

Random things

2007-11-16T01:11:00.000-05:00

I saw this on someone else's blog and it seemed like an interesting thing to post about and find out about people - http://thejuma.wordpress.com/2007/11/13/seven-weird-and-random-things/

Seven Random things about me:

1. I am phobic about frogs. No joke. Absolutely terrified of them. As in, will cry and hyperventilate if I am in a situation in which I see one that could potentially jump on me - That actually happened when I was 10. A frog jumped on me head. Believe it or not, that was NOT where the phobia originated. I already had it. So as you can imagine, to say that I freaked out is the understatement of the decade.

2. I absolutely hate Andrew Lloyd Webber and almost anything he has created (especially Phantom of the Opera).

3. When I was 9 I named my horse after my third grade crush, Masao. Masao (the horse) is still alive and well and I ride him every time I go down to Ecuador to see my parent.

4. I love playing practical jokes on people.

5. I started college when I was 16.

6. The first movie I ever saw (and still one of my absolute favorites) was West Side Story. I was 2. I watched it every single day for a year.

7 . I often keep seasons of West Wing playing on my computer while I fall asleep or while I get dressed and have my coffee in the morning.

Marc and my girl

2007-11-14T16:55:00.000-05:00

Tonight I am going with Lee and his girlfriend to see my one of my two favorite musicians - Marc Cohn. I think Lee and I knew we were meant to be friends when we discovered our shared love for Marc... In addition to also realizing that he had gone to Camp Kinderring, rival of my camp, Camp Kinderland back in the olden days when they were across the lake from each other. He had grown up best friends with someone I went to camp with and knew well.
Funny because I realized that Jessie (my college roommate freshman year and one of the few people I consider to be one of my soul mates) and I were meant to be when I discovered that she too loved Marc Cohn. I guess he's just THAT cool!

I gotten to see Marc perform twice... both times at The Iron Horse in Northampton--which was first mentioned to me by Waker almost six years ago now (he also is the person who first introduced me to Marc Cohn's music)-- both times with my Jessie. While I cannot wait for tonight and am excited to go with Lee and Liz, all I can think about is how much I wish she were here.

Jessie and I have one of those connections that very very rarely come along. She has never once truly gotten on my nerves (despite her inability to return phone calls!) and we can go months without seeing each other and yet as soon as we are together, we are pouring our hearts out to each other. She hears me in a way that almost no one else does. With the least judgment of anyone.

This girl has gotten me through some of the worst nights of my life. Nights when I knew the only person who could really get me through them would be her...Something I think she is magic... She has this way of showing up when I need her most. Times when there is no possible way she could have known. And yet there is she is. Arriving in the midst of my breakdowns, and also as a surprise for my birthdays.

She has also been there for some of the best nights of my life - 5 hour drives to Vermont filled with gossip and singing, sitting around her home in Massachusetts getting utterly wasted while discussing life and love, a particularly memorable trip to the bowling alley in Great Barrington (The Cove) our freshman year at college, sneaking Chinese takeout food into movie theaters, and those two great Marc Cohn concerts at The Iron Horse.

Writer's block

2007-11-13T14:05:00.000-05:00

I need help. I have been procrastinating and putting off writing my statement of intent for my grad school application for months now. Every time I try to seriously think about it I find myself at a total loss. I don't know if it is that I don't know what to say or that I don't know how to say it... Or both?
Throughout college I was an excellent academic writer. Most professors loved my style of writing and of arguing in thesis papers. I love outlining arguments and then breaking them down and reinforcing them or shattering them to bits.
But my mind works like that of a philosopher or a lawyer. And that is how I write. As I am sure you all have noticed, my personal essay style leaves something to be desired. I never figured out how to write an engaging personal essay or how to really bring myself to it.
This is why I am stuck. I can't just write about myself in anyway that is going to sound intelligent or insightful in order to sell myself to a graduate school. I need more purpose... a harder line to take.
Does anyone have any ideas of how to start this?
I am applying to a masters program for administration and producing in the performing arts... Any suggestions or words of wisdom would be greatly appreciated!

Distance

2007-11-13T00:14:00.000-05:00

I am looking back on the last week, the last few weeks, the last month... I think perhaps this has been a particularly difficult one although I struggle to distinguish it from the ones before... And yet, I do feel that I have been at a low point. A slump. A state in which I feel like I am walking around with my eyes swollen because of a lack of sleep or crying... Except neither is the case. That is just what life feels like right now.

Speaking to a friend last night, discussing my life, why I was feeling low and also the lives of people dear to us, I cried again. Partially for me... For feeling so out of myself, out of the world... Mostly though, it was out of fear and concern for these two people who we talked about. Two people who, I can say with all certainty, are some of the ones I love most on this earth. Two people who never ever failed to be there for me in the absolute worst of times and were always there in the good ones. People who were my family... My love for them defies words. And I am so scared.

My friend said that he had seen them the weekend before... and that he was worried. That one of them seemed to be in a scary emotional state. And the other, our dearest Jay, was having more difficulty walking than ever before. His beautiful frail body deteriorating due to a myriad of things... All of which have had me terrified that I would lose him ever since i have known him.

These are not old people. They are not a couple either. They are friends. One with a family of her own, two wonderful children and a husband. And Jay on his own, with dozens of people who love him as much as I.
They are but 3 hours away and somehow I feel so far. I call several times a month and mostly get answering machines. I leave long messages, telling them I love them and that I hope to see them soon. Trying desperately to convey to them that I love them. That I am not gone. That I am here. That I am still their family. That I will never not be available to them.
Then I hang up and I feel such a distance.

I have never felt the urge to move someplace for anybody before, but thinking of Jay and Gigi makes me desperate to pick up and move back to Massachusetts so that I can be near them, help them, support them, take care of them.
I say that I want to go and take care of them... To laugh and make them smile and reminisce and sing and cook... I want to make them happy... And yet it is they who light up my life every time I see them. In my lowest moments, when I have not been able to stand for crying so hard, when my eyes are swollen shut and I cannot even breathe, I find that I smile when I see them.

I am so scared. Talking to Loren, and just hearing him say the words "I don't know how much longer we will have Jay" made me stop breathing. And then cry.

A Star

2007-11-10T02:48:00.001-05:00

A Star
Originally uploaded by maiamimi

This is my favorite of my photographs. I was so proud of it... And somehow seeing it makes me kind of sad.

sitting alone and laughing

2007-11-10T01:38:00.000-05:00

I was lame tonight. I bailed on my work buddies and their friends in favor of sitting at home, reorganizing my closet--putting away summer clothes and taking out the winter one-- making dinner and watching a movie.
The only thing I had the remotest interest in watching On Demand was Blades of Glory... Something I had not seen before.
Now, I don't like stupid humor in general. I thought Zoolander was unbearable, and you couldn't pay me to sit down and watch the Austin Powers movies. However, I laughed so hard at certain points of Blades that I almost choked on my soymilk!

There is something comforting about sitting at home, in my sweatshirt, pajama pants and big fuzzy socks, drinking chocolate soy milk and laughing out loud to a movie that no one else is watching with you. Yes, it is a Friday night, and I am 22 and this should not be what I want to do.... Especially considering I have no big plans for tomorrow either... But this is what put me in an OK mood for the first time in a couple of days.

A lack of smiles

2007-11-08T12:16:00.000-05:00

I need something good to happen to me within the next couple of days. I need something to make me smile, make me excited, make me laugh... Even if it is a relatively small thing that only gives me momentary relief from this general sourness I seem to have settled into recently.

This morning I discovered -- or really just took more note of the fact -- that I really hate it when people talk about how happy they are. It drives me insane.

I want people to be happy. I do. I want my friends to be happy. I want my family to be happy more than anything else. However, when my friends start talking incessantly about just how happy they are and how perfect everything is, I hate it. I don't think it is a jealousy thing. It is more a lack of knowledge about what the hell you are supposed to say to someone who is chattering about how happy they are? How many times can I say "that's great" or "I am so happy for you"?

Like I said, I need something to make me smile.

The Circle Game

2007-11-08T01:07:00.000-05:00

Take your time it won't be long now 'Till you drag your feet to slow the circle down

Do you ever feel like you are just waiting for something to occur but you have no idea what it is you are waiting for?

I am feeling that.

Maybe it is a product of, for the first time in my life, not knowing what to look forward to... I live where I want to live and I graduated from college and that is all I know or have worked out now. I don't know what I want to do about graduate school and I don't know what I want my next job to be (but it is not this one!). I don't have any big events coming up, or anything that I need to be preparing for in the foreseeable future (other than graduate school applications and such, but given that I am not so sure about them it is hard to really make them the focus of my life).
My life is currently filled with small events that make the time fly so quickly that it terrifies me.
Parties, dinners, movies, nights out with friends, voice lessons, concerts get thrown in with days in which I go to the gym and then just come home and relax. And it all melds together... and as I said is making life speed by at a heart pounding speed.

Growing up I was always someone who wanted time to go faster, I had so much I was looking to the future for and was totally out of place in the present... I wanted desperately to grow up. College was the first time in my life where, though I always had a million things to look forward to and to work towards - portfolio reviews, finals, my thesis, photography shows, musicals, vocal performances, graduation - I did not want to speed time up. I was totally present where I was and the pace, for the most part, was one in which I was present and willing to accept.
Now that I am out of school (and have been for over a year and a half now), I find that for the first time, I want to stop the speed of my life. I want to curl up in bed and just halt the days until I am ready to come out and have a clearer sense of purpose.

That is what I am waiting for. My sense or purpose... Perhaps? No, I must know at this point that that is a lifelong search. I am looking for my next goal. I am desperately searching myself for the clarity or just the courage to pursue something with a full heart. And until then, I feel stuck. Stalled. Trapped in my cycle of days and weeks that go flying by... Weeks that are truly turning into years before my eyes, without anything truly definable about them. My waiting period. A period that I hope I will be able to emerge from with something clear and positive. A period that I can look back on and know the purpose of.

"So the years spin by and now the boy is twenty
Though his dreams have lost some grandeur
Coming true
There'll be new dreams, maybe better dreams and plenty
Before the last revolving year is through
And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
Were captive on the carousel of time
We cant return, we can only look behind
From where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game"

tightness

2007-11-07T01:28:00.000-05:00

I cried tonight for the first time I can remember in a very long time. I mean really cried...Not teared up and choked back...not a tear slipping down my cheek at the end of a movie....But tears that leaked out of my eyes and continued to do so no matter how much I sniffed and tried to hold them back. I forgot, or perhaps I never really noticed, how tight the back of your throat gets when you are crying... How the pain makes it hard to swallow, hard to talk... And then the pressure in between your eyes...and at your temples.
Or maybe, this only really happens when you are so desperately trying to control your crying. And if you didn't, and just let it out and sobbed, that pain and tightness would melt away.
Is this who I have become? Someone who can't cry without it being physically painful? Someone who desperately tries to hold back tears even when discussing the slow, steady and painful collapse of her nuclear family with a close friend, on her couch, over glasses of wine?
I think I used to be able to cry freely. I think I used to let myself break down and sob. I don't remember my throat feeling so tight and my head feeling such pressure.
I don't remember thinking about how painful it was to cry before.

A question of absolute moral truths

2007-10-25T00:28:00.000-04:00

If someone tells you to run, not walk to go see Gone Baby Gone, Ben Affleck's directorial debut, you should absolutely ignore them. Take a cab.

If you want a review of this film that details the acting, directing and plot nuances of the film, go read one online. That said, I will say that I pray Ed Harris and Ben Affleck win Academy Awards and that the movie is at least seriously considered for Best Film. This is not to say that Morgan Freeman and Casey Affleck were not mindblowingly good in their roles. But there is no cause to rant about the wonders of Morgan Freeman given that everyone knows he is amazing and will always be amazing in everything he does. Casey Affleck proves to be an unbelievable actor and plays his role to perfection, creating a complex mixture of emotions towards him in viewers of the film. He is real, intricate, infuriating and also very appealing.

Not in years, or perhaps ever, have I found a movie which so deeply challenges societal and personal ethical norms and yet manage to be a beautifully plotted, directed and acted suspense movie which will not soar above most heads.
Gone Baby Gone does not pelt you with a million moral dilemmas which might make it a chore to watch. More importantly it does not preach at it's viewers. The film gives no easy outs and no obvious answers to the questions and decisions it's characters face. You do not find yourself holding your breath because you are praying a character will make a particular decision... rather you are holding your breath because you no only have no idea which decision will be made but also because you don't know yourself which you want. Moreover, your real feelings and beliefs will probably not be obvious to you until the movie has already chosen it's path.

This movie is ultimately about absolute moral truths. It is about questioning their existence in the form of laws, emotions, actions, and in the world as a whole. It is about pushing the conventional ideas of morality and where you are left once you have completely broken the barriers that encase them.

Debauchery in the city

2007-10-22T17:13:00.000-04:00

It was a whirlwind weekend. And the most carefree and drama free laughter and fun I have had in a long time. It's not that often that I find myself reflecting on events and not being able to remember anything but enjoying myself (thought perhaps the fact that I can do so with this past weekend has something to do with how much I can remember it period...).

It was two days of eating, drinking (way too much!), laughing, making jokes and telling stories for hours, singing, dancing, more drinking, hilarious quotes and some much needed flirting!

Though the weather was warm, it was definitely a fall weekend which commenced with fall festivities at Krista and Aimee's - Pumpkin carving (which ended with Jamie putting his head into one of them and then not being able to get out), apple cider, pumpkin cupcakes, chili, bad bad bad bad bad scary movies which turned out to be more like soft-core porn, a surprise visit from Casey, hour long arguments over the correct definitions of supple, lissome and flexible...

Saturday night was drinks and flirting at Arctica. More drinks and more flirting at Arctica... pizza, cracking each other up, "heart to hearts" with Jamie, devouring carbs so as to avoid a hangover, and waking up in a strange bed and not knowing who the hell was lying next to me.... Fortunately, it turned out to be Aimee's bed and Aimee....

Daddy arrived yesterday bearing lots of beautiful silver gifts from him, the new girlfriend, and my grandmother. Tonight we go to Bill and Drew's for dinner and then I am off of work for 3 days to get in some quality time!

Spectacular quotes from the weekend -

"That's definitely upsetting because it makes you realize that Snuffleufagus might be real." -Krista

Bianca: This is Maia.
Maia: Oh you must be Matt!
Bianca: No. This is Ben.
Maia: Omg I'm so sorry! Of course Ben. You're Bianca's friend from Goldman Sachs.
Bianca: Uh... no...not him either.

Maia: Jamie, do you want to sleep with Bianca?
Jamie: Whose Bianca?
Maia: Tall, my hair, my coloring, pretty, paralegal on our floor?
Jamie: No idea who she is.
Maia: Ok fine so since he doesn't know who she is maybe Jamie is not going to want to sleep with her but -
Jamie: Whoa whoa whoa. I never said that. I probably DO want to sleep with her.

Lets talk about good things

2007-10-18T12:54:00.000-04:00

My daddy is coming next week! (now I just have to see if I can get days off... ugh...the corporate world blows).
I found gorgeous and COMFORTABLE knee high black boots. SCORE.
Friday night there will be pumpkin carving and painting and other October festivities at Krista's.
Sunday there will be a birthday brunch at Bianca's for her birthday.
My new bag is great and carrying it makes me happy (I know. I am THAT shallow).
I get a voice lesson today! The first in 2 months. I can't wait. I am aching to sing.
Bianca is all about being my wingman with this cute bartender... :o)
Playing scrabble with Dennis during work definitely makes some days better despite the fact that the ass kicking he is giving me is really kind of embarrassing.
Chloe and I are going to watch Anne of Green Gables the Continuing Story tonight.
Lee and I are getting along really well these days. I am finding him very amusing as of late.
I got to do some photography with Chloe as my model and I had a blast being behind the camera again. I need to find more projects.

I know I sound like an exceedingly optimistic and "focus on the good things!" person...Which is clearly absurd... I am just feeling the need to think about things that are making me happy, or at least temporarily content, instead of the wide range of problems that I could currently be focusing on.

Oh and Dennis just walked by and asked me if I thought "Homeskillet" was a trendy term. I told him that I prefer "cupcake". He then said he was going to go into his senior associate's office and call him cupcake and see what happens.... Ah we are all so amusing here at GDC....

anxiety

2007-10-11T12:28:00.000-04:00

Today has been one of those mornings when everything stressed me out right from the moment I woke up. A piece of mail I received upon arriving the office kicked off the day with stress and it extended to simple yet oddly time consuming requests from associates, lack of time to get coffee, "Private Practice" and "America's Next Top Model" not being up online yet, worrying about grad school applications and continuing my existential crisis about where my life is going and where I want it to go (and my general lack of knowledge on both topics, money stresses, trying to figure out when I will have time to go work out, and a million other tiny little things.

What am I hating right now?
All of the above and a million other things.

What am I loving right now?
- The Maroon 5 concert I went to last night in which Kanye West made a special guest appearance.
- Sleep.
- The fact that we finally got cable and tonight I can go home and watch Grey's Anatomy on my couch.
- Being invited to Bill and Drew's for a dinner party tomorrow and possibly bringing Krista with me.
- Leather boot shopping with my roommate this weekend... (though this is also a source of stress because of a) money b) my apparently huge calves which seem to not want to let me find fitting knee high boots. )

Oh wait and I forgot to mention, I still hate one of my bosses and really want to tell her to fuck off and print her stupid documents herself.

Relief

2007-10-08T11:22:00.000-04:00

Last night while at a bar with Krista and Aimee, Aimee made an off hand comment about NC and I realized that she knew because Krista knew and has known... since it would seem I once told her while drunk and have no recollection of it. But they have both known and discussed it and wondered when I would finally tell them.
While I was not sure I was ready for it to come out yet, it was such a relief to finally be able to discuss it with her and no longer have to examine my every word and move to make sure I wasn't giving it away.
She was amazing about it though... so sensitive and supportive and also just incredibly understanding.
Maybe I was ready for it to come out. It was time. Time to let the important people in on it, and possibly in that, find a way to better cope and move on.
I think that I feel so lucky to have these people in my life. To have met these two lovely women who have almost instantly become some of my favorite and most trusted people... who I feel safe with and cared for by... and who I no longer have to keep anything from...
Last night, it was good.

Ugh

2007-09-28T16:42:00.000-04:00

As a little addition to yesterday's post, back in college, I would not have felt guilty or semi depressed about the fact that I have no desire to go out tonight and just want to (and plan to) skip the gym (feeling REALLY guilty about that. Maybe I can drag myself tomorrow), go home, make a light dinner, rent a movie, take a shower, and lie in bed all night doing nothing.
That would be totally cool and totally expected. Why does it not feel ok now?!

Another reflection on the post-college I.

2007-09-27T13:15:00.001-04:00

It's strange that for the past few days I have been constantly looking back and comparing what I am doing, what I look like, what I eat, what I like etc... to what I was like when I was at SRC -

Getting actually dressed used to mean putting on jeans and a decent sweater or t-shirt with my flip flops. Maybe a bit of mascara... fuller makeup if i had time and was bored...Regular wear my senior year included sweatpants, gym pants, loose capris, flip flops, fuzzy boots, t-shirts, sweatshirts, big sweaters (I wore heels and skirts and did my makeup much more my Junior year)... Hair was almost never blow-dried and always a little wavy and usually in a pony tail.

I ate power bars, string cheese and downed cups of coffee between classes because nap time was far more important that eating a full lunch at the dining hall between classes.

Splurging a little meant going out for dinner or lunch at one of Great Barrington's many delicious restaurants and spending $15-20 on Pad Thai, Sourdough pizza, sushi, or big omlettes with homefries and toast, or paying $50 for a sweater or shirt from Banana Republic or J Crew.

Friday and Saturday nights were either movie and takeout nights, margaritas with Evan and Jess nights, or THESIS nights. No one ever WENT anywhere unless you were going away for the weekend... we bought alcohol down in town and drank in our living rooms all the while feeling guilty about the work we were blowing off to have a few drinks.

Working out? Forget it. Never. A) who the hell had the time to work out when you could use that time to sleep? B) I drove everywhere because of time constraints and the amount of binders and books I carried so never even walked the 200 yards from the college center to the dining hall. Nevermind the short 3 or 4 minute walk from the dining hall to the DAC.

I snapped at Freshman who talked too much in higher level seminars and exchanged disdainful looks with other Seniors. I glared at the lower classmen who were taking up the printers or computers in the library and made it a point to make it clear I did not want to speak to them. And if they EVER made a joking remark about thesising or the stress level of seniors they were almost sure to get a full-throttle verbal lashing from me or Casey.

I was the best in almost all the classes I took (save only the ones that were requirements that I was being forced to take at the same time as other much more important classes to my fields of study... and even those I only ever got as low as a B), my professors knew me well, cracked inside jokes with me in class, trusted me fully, and considered me to be one of their best. And I was.

And now? Getting dressed means office casual... though i have certainly relaxed a bit since settling into the business casual, corporate world and now sometimes wear flip-flops around the office (keeping the high-heels on hand for anything that might come up). I wear slacks from Banana Republic and Theory, lots of skirts, black dresses, high heels... Jeans are solely for weekends. Sneakers are only for the gym, which I now go to at least twice a week, and I walk whenever I get a chance.
I eat salads with cranberries, avocado, feta cheese, cous cous... sushi, pasta...Lots of Starbucks. I haven't touched a power bar in months.
Splurging now means paying $80+ on dinner, 30+ on drinks, $150 on a sweater.... $300 on a Theory dress... Not that I can really afford these things at all... My credit card bills are getting to the point where I really have to cut this out.
Going out (be it a weeknight or a weekday) means a bar, then dinner, then another bar.
I am not at the top of the hill. In fact I am at the bottom. Every one of my new friends is above me in education, salary and job status. I don't snap at anyone except my closest and older friends when they really get on my nerves.
I wish I could nap more.
I wish I could go back. I miss needing a nap all the time, eating power bars because I had no time for anything else... I miss snapping at the freshmen and driving everywhere with the music blaring and belting at the top of my lungs. I miss those margarita nights in with our family at SRC... drinking, dancing, thinking about all those papers we had to write...

2007-09-24T13:30:00.000-04:00

What I'm loving:
- Margarita nights with Jess and Evan
- Grey's Anatomy
- Old episodes of E.R. (circa the George Clooney days)
- Voice lessons
- Girl nights with Krista and Aimee
- Playing pranks on people (some things never change!)
- Seeing musicals
- Beer pong and flip cup on Krista's roof
- Portuguese Green wine
- Cupcakes
- Puppies! Especially my little man.
- Hilarious group emails with office people
- Making fun of Lee
- Dinners with Rick and Roberta
- Molten chocolate cake
- Walking home from the Borough Hall station after work
- Raspberries
- Salads with cranberries in them
- Cafe Banc
- Dates with Christina
- Going to the movies
- Playing poker at Lee's house
- Sleeping in
- Hanging out with Liz
- Sephora
- Photo-shoots
- Yankee games
- Bill and Drew
- Talking on the phone with mom and dad
- Food shopping
- Putting on makeup
- Godiva truffles
- Giggling with Bianca

Life's annoyances:
- Waking up for work
- Humidity (and frizzy hair!)
- Breaking out
- Sitting at work and doing nothing
- Obsessing about NC
- People who call me early in the morning
- Arguing about stupid stuff with Bianca
- When Lee is in a bad mood
- my calves! (can't find knee high boots that fit!)
- Feeling like a bad friend
- Trying to cover up the NC stuff with Krista

A leap in time - A collection of thoughts

2007-09-24T11:12:00.000-04:00

I have been all over the place. To begin to sum up the past 6 months seems impossible and yet I cannot believe it has been six months. It seems a week ago that Jesse died. A month ago that I started this job. Still, it seems years since I have been friends with Sherrie and I have been at this job for about 9 months now and I certainly am starting to feel it.

Where am I? Did I change? Has this year been a pause in my development and in my life? Sometimes I think that I have been exactly the same since I started working here and just treading water... Not moving and yet active.
So yes I have not moved physically (though I did switch apartments over the summer) but somehow I have been active and started to figure out where I am going.

My grad school plans are taking some sort of identifiable form and I can begin to grasp where I see myself in a few years (though the options remain endless and I often wonder which one of them will take actual shape) as opposed to a year ago when I couldn't begin to see through the haze of the future.

The soul searching I planned to do while taking this year to work and do nothing else has been less exciting and less tangible than I thought it would be. Somehow looking into myself and trying to sort through the web of my interests, fears, emotions and hopes has been harder than I imagined it would and I feel that I have spent too much time numbing out to myself. Nonetheless, apparantly I have done something for I do see myself as farther along and a little less lost than I was.

Last night on the phone with my mother as she began to overwhelm me with her ideas for what I should be doing and exploring over the next few years, and as usual, was less supportive than I would like of my plans to go to graduate school, I started crying for the first time in a while and suddenly I was frantically yelling all that I wanted and why I wanted it to her - "I'm tired of being someone's assistant. I want a graduate degree because I am tired of being in a job with no foward potential! I don't want to do this anymore! I don't want to go into another field and work my way up from the bottom! I want to go somewhere and already HAVE the qualifications to MEAN something to someone. I can't do this anymore. I want to go back to school and I want to get a higher level degree. STOP being so insensitive about it! I am done treading water!"

So that's it is it? I am so exhausted with feeling like less than the people I have come to call my close friends here at work. Young lawyers, about 4 years older than I.... and even though I know I am younger and clearly have not had the time to get a higher degree yet, I feel as though I am less than they or that I have to prove myself to them. Ridiculous. I know I should not feel the need to prove myself to anyone and that I should not buy into this kind of culture, yet I have. Is it because the man I fall for a little more every day has already been a lawyer for a couple of years and I am so scared that the reason I will never get him is because I am not at his level? Perhaps.
******

I'm still singing. Haven't had a lesson in a while due to scheduling conflicts. But I am singing. And I am going somewhere with it and I actually am beginning to feel like i am good! My voice teacher told me that she would not continue to work with me if she did not believe I had potential and a voice to work with. I am excited. She seems extremely pleased with my progress and I am now singing songs and hitting and holding notes in a technically appropriate way that I had to scream out before this year. It is thrilling. It is a rush. For me, there is nothing else like it.

Comfort

2007-03-01T16:33:00.000-05:00

I received a Friendster message the other day from the woman in the picture with my former love. She was just writing to say hi, and to tell me that she had finally heard the story of what happened with me and him... and that she wanted to tell me that he "is a jerk".

It seems he has done it again. Found someone perfectly lovely, played the game of love until for no reason at all he clams up and discards them.
My stomach tightened when I saw her email saying she had heard the story... what must he say about me? Heaven only knows.

That is not the point though. The point is that over the past 24 hours I have exchanged several emails with this woman. A lovely young graduate student who has just had her heart shattered by the same man who shattered mine repeatedly. I have never had the opportunity to speak with anyone else who has shared a romantic relationship with him and this correspondance has been truly poignant in many ways.

She sees his faults and understands what it took me years to; that he is a deeply troubled, scared and narcissistic person and that it is not her fault or my fault. It is his. In her words "he is a runner. not with his feet, but with his mind, heart and soul. And he will continue to run forever because the person he runs from is himself. I know this. I have seen it and felt it."

My head cannot wrap itself around the notion that I will so freely and willingly share my experiences with him to a woman who has been in his life more recently than I. Where is the discomfort, jealousy and resentment that I think I should be feeling?
My heart, wants to talk to her and comfort her as much as possible. And in doing so, finds comfort in knowing that she is there, and that he did the same thing to her. That it is not my fault. That I am not crazy and did not imagine what he did or how awful it was.

Yet, my heart breaks to know that he has not learned anything. That he has not taken a leap, chosen to trust, chosen to love... that he is still as terrified of himself and as selfish as when I last saw him.

Speaking to this woman makes me angrier at him. It sharpens all the thoughts and ideas I have had about who he is, and how I would react should he ever try to come back into my life. As I read her words, these ideas and hopes for my strength and knowledge that he is not a person I want, slowly cement and I am firmer in them.
I am not without pity for him either... he is a sad person... but my notion that this is an excuse for what he does fades more and more everyday.

And as I said, my stomach turns and my mind scrambles at how naturally I find myself writing to her... and at how unemotionally involved I can stay when we talk of him. Where did it go?

She offered to help me with my grad school applications when the time comes... I will gladly accept her help and offer her anything I can to get her through this moment which I know far too well.

breaking down

2007-02-15T13:39:00.000-05:00

Dear Krystie,
I am not sure if you remember me, but I am Maia's mother, and I live in Ecuador. I just wanted to let you know that both Maia's father and I are shocked and saddened to learn of Jesse's passing. I know that Maia had been in contact with him over the years and even just before he went into the hospital, they had a plan to get together. She told me what a wonderful person he was, and how very deeply saddened she is to have lost a dear friend. I remember Jesse from way back when....in Lucy's class as a smart and adorable 10 or 11 year old, whom all the girls had a crush on. No words can possibly serve to console at such a time, much less from a veritable stranger, but I wanted to reach out to you and tell you that down here in Ecuador, we are thinking of you and of Jesse. Please accept a virtual embrace, and please consider coming down for a visit to Casa Mojanda, as our guests.
Un abrazo grande, Betti Sachs

Dear Betti,
Thank you so much for your kindness. Jesse cared very much about Maia over the years and was always so happy to hear from her and spend time with her. I'll never forget him telling me so proudly that she was his girlfriend at one point before you all moved, and how sad he was that she was leaving. She has grown to be such a thoughtful and lovely woman, as I learned on Saturday when I had a chance to speak with her again after all these years. Your place looks absolutely gorgeous, and it was so nice to see the photo of you and your husband looking as always so friendly and kind. I hope at some point to be able to take you up on your offer, both for the hug and the visit, once our hearts have healed a bit. thank you, Krystie

Yesterday morning, as I sat at my desk drinking coffee and reading these emails that my mother had forwarded to me, I began to shake.

Laughing and crying

2007-02-15T13:13:00.000-05:00

The memorial service was on Saturday evening. Katie and I went, both anxious about being there, who we might see, what we might have to say... scared of dealing with the reality of a piece of our childhood dying.
Dressing for the service on Saturday night was a surreal experience. I felt almost as though I was watching myself, outside of my body... emotionless except for the awareness of how surreal the situation was.
As Katie and I walked down the street to get a cab, my entire being sensed that I was dressed for a funeral, though Katie and I kept our conversation light on our way there.

Deep breath. Walk in the door. Just go. Do it. Hold Katie's hand. Try as hard as you can not to look at Jesse's body in the casket. Why do I want to laugh? Why can't I breathe? Where is his mother? His brother? What do I say? Why are people standing around chatting and laughing?

The service was informal. People stood up at will and talked. Mostly stories about Jesse and how much he liked to argue and debate. Stories that made everyone laugh while holding back tears. Everytime people break into laughter I can't help but look over at Jesse and think that he is going to wake up. Please wake up.

I stand up.
"Hi. I'm Maia. I know Jesse from elementary school, we were in third grade together and I have to say, I think I will always remember Jesse as the guy all the girls were in love with." People start laughing. Jesse's mother, Krystie, in the front says "Honey, now that he is not here, I can tell you, he was in love with you too".
More laughter. I continue.
"When I was about thirteen, Jesse was my first boyfriend."
Krystie nods emphatically.
"We all had crushes on him. Me, Erin, Katie... In fact, when he became my 'boyfriend' a few years later, everyone would say I had stolen him. But I think that the one story that I willalways remember most vividly, has to do with when Erin was still in love with him back in third grade. The two of us were chasing Jesse and Zack around the gym trying to kiss them."
People crack up again.
"Erin was after Jesse and I was after Zack. And, I think Zack got away from me, but Erin managed to trick Jesse and caught him as he was racing out of the auditorium and she just tackled him and gave him a HUGE kiss. And I know I will never ever forget the look on Jesse's face as he stood up trying to wipe the kiss off of his cheek. It was just classic. He was such a little stud."
I sit back down.

Later on, people come up to me and tell me how great my story was. I go to Krystie, though honestly I am shocked she even knows who I am, to give her a hug. She says to me that Jesse "loved the hell out of me". And that he was so heartbroken when I moved away to Ecuador.
I realize then she actually does know who I am. She has heard of me, she remembers me as the little girl her son had a crush on.
So thats who I was.

Tears

2007-02-14T23:52:00.001-05:00

Would you know my name
If I saw you in heaven
Will it be the same
If I saw you in heaven
I must be strong, and carry on
Cause I know I don't belong
Here in heaven

Would you hold my hand
If I saw you in heaven
Would you help me stand
If I saw you in heaven
I'll find my way, through night and day
Cause I know I just can't stay
Here in heaven

Time can bring you down
Time can bend your knee
Time can break your heart
Have you begging please
Begging please

Beyond the door
There's peace I'm sure.
And I know there'll be no more...
Tears in heaven

Would you know my name
If I saw you in heaven
Will it be the same
If I saw you in heaven
I must be strong, and carry on
Cause I know I don't belong
Here in heaven

'cause I know, i don't belong, here in heaven.

you just always think there will be plenty of other chances....

2007-02-08T12:48:00.000-05:00

I have yet to break down and sob, as many of my friends have done in the past day and a half... I have not yet had that moment where I am stunned to tears and then just lose it. Instead I slip between numbness, confusion, anger, guilt, and muted sadness.

Numbness because this is so surreal and there is no way for me to really feel it yet... What is different about my life? Not that much. Only what I make it.
Confusion because I don't understand why my reactions have been so muted and yet this has permeated my mood in a million different ways and made me irritable, depressive, tired, stressed....
Boiling rage that this could happen to someone so young. Someone my age, who did nothing to bring it upon himself. Someone I played with, someone I once used to chase around the school auditorium in many, both failed and successful, attempts to knock him over so Erin could kiss him. My first "boyfriend" at age 13.... who was the unfortunate and undeserving recipient of my first act of relationship immaturity, insensitivity, and selfishness.

The guilt and muted sadness intertwine... how could I have blown him off for coffee last week? How could I have been so stupid... that was it. No more. No other chance to know him. Why did he still want to see me after all these years? So out of the blue. What was I to him that he cared to try to see me after so long? That he did occasionally write an email or send an IM... what did I do to deserve that kind of place in his mind? Yes I was 13 but I was awful to him nonetheless. Now I can't ask.

23 year old law students with cancer aren't supposed to die. They are supposed to pull through and make it. We all knew he had cancer but when he told me he relapsed, it never crossed my mind that he wouldn't make it. It just seemed obvious to assume he would be out of the hospital in a month or two and we would grab coffee then...I was sad sure, because I knew he would feel pain... but I never thought of death. Because that's not supposed to happen to a 23 year old in his first semester of law school.
It's just not.

A weekend with my soulmates

2007-01-29T13:19:00.000-05:00

I have come to realize that while I have friends who I consider family, because I have known them forever, because they are always there, will always be there, and because I am in love with them, my college friends are the ones who are my soul mates. Perhaps we have made ourselves soul mates because of the intrinsic similarities and connections we have that came from choosing Simon's Rock, and the unique experience that comes with it... but nonetheless, it is these people who I always seem to be in tune with. They are all wildly different from each other and from me, and yet I always find that in talking to them, they relate, they get it, they listen, they always say the right thing.

I spent a beautiful weekend up in Boston with a selection of these friends; Caroline, Casey, Zipmo, Peter, Jessie, Joel and Ian. Perfect hours spent lying in bed with Caroline just before we drifted off to sleep, reminiscing and making plans... A delicious brunch on Saturday with everyone, followed by several hours of lying around chatting, walking around chatting and joking, eating, drinking and gossiping, singing in the car, drunken games, hours of taking crazy photos, rolling around on the floor, everyone dancing wildly to "Beer" by Reel Big Fish, more gossiping and drinking, plotting, advice giving, and just perfectness in every way. Everyone was so in tune with each other on Saturday night, despite some tensions earlier in the day. There was no self consciousness, no hostility, no judgments, no pressure....

Sunday, upon returning to Caroline's apartment, the two of us collapsed onto her bed together and lay there talking and doing nothing. Discussing our fears, our lives, where we want our lives to go, our frustrations...our longing for last year's lifestyle when we had each other and everyone else next door and didn't have to make plans to see each other, when the weekends weren't so different from the weekdays and we could spend hours absorbed in thesising or other academics and then lock ourselves away for full days to have West Wing marathons and Baba Louie's pizza.

Lives when we didn't feel pressure to go out and DO anything in particular just because it was a weekend... and when we could run over to each other's apartments in socks and pyjamas (and sometimes without shirts on) to have coffee, and sit around the living room talking, and doing nothing.

As we talked we realized that it seems to be with very few people that we are able to just sit there and talk and do nothing for hours... and how perfect it is when we have the opportunity to do that with someone who gets it.

The good in the day

2007-01-22T22:07:00.000-05:00

- waking up to find an email from one of my oldest friends in Ecuador, whom I haven't spoken to in forever.

- the cute lawyer mentioning, again, that we have coffee plans this week to discuss grad school programs for me :)

- writing a long email to this old friend in Ecuador, sending updates on my life, and photos from important moments over the last year.

- a return email from her with pictures of her and her new girlfriend.

- dinner with two wonderful friends and reminiscing with them over really good thai food and cocktails.

-buying new face and body lotions at Origins.

- goofing around, teasing and laughing with my boss.

- a facial.

- finding parking on my block.

- planning what to wear tomorrow!

- planning a little college friends reunion for this coming weekend in Boston (and thinking about finally retrieving my camera when I go up there!).

Clouded head, clearing heart

2007-01-21T01:47:00.000-05:00

I woke up on Friday with a headcold... one of those ones where it isn't really bad enough to excuse staying in bed or anything like that, but just bad enough to make your eyes water, nose run, and give you enough sinus pressure to ruin your day. I made it through Friday and then spent most of today in bed, nixing my Boston trip that was supposed to occur this morning (perhaps next weekend...).

Just now, after getting home from watching a movie and eating pizza with an old college friend, as I surfed the internet for a few moments before hitting the bed, I, for the first time, saw a picture of my old love and his new girlfriend... (Yes I admit it, I am kind of an internet stalker in that sense... I DO look). I have known about this relationship for some time now through various forms of communication and media (though I do not speak to this man anymore) and when I first found out about it, I felt as though I had been punched in the stomach... Unable to breathe and unable to speak of it. However, as time has gone by, I have slowly, not only been able to accept this, but even feel OK about it. Moving on is so scary though... After loving someone for so long, and feeling as though you will never be able to imagine that person with someone else without wanting to curl up and die, suddenly not having your breath taken away at the thought of them is terrifying. Why? How do you numb to these things? Are you over it? Or really are you just numbed to the pain?

Over it is such a bizzare concept. Am I over it? Sure. As much as I will ever be. I am attracted to new people, I can envision relationships with these people, I even date. I no longer think of this person everymoment, and I no longer cry when I do think of him. In fact, I no longer really wish that we could work things out, for I don't think I would be willing to try even if he wanted to. Some hurts go too deep and cannot be repaired.

But despite all of this, seeing that picture, took my breath away. I stopped and stared. Just stared for several minutes. Looking at their expressions, his eyes. Wondering if he was finally happy or if this would be another in a long line of relationships that he would eventually shut off from... For a moment, I thought I might begin to cry and my eyes began to sting...and then, just before the tears came, I felt my mouth curving and I found myself smiling. Smiling at the idea that he might be happy, at the fact that I could see this and be OK... Smiling for some reason that I cannot fathom. But there it was, a huge smile as I stared at this picture of the two of them.

And then I started to cry.

Yesterday and Today

2007-01-18T11:15:00.000-05:00

January 2006 -
Jeans, a sweater, my new Report winter boots, hair wavy and tied back, dragging myself out of bed into another freezing and beautiful Berkshire winter day... Lugging stacks of books, binders, portfolios and sheet music to classes, thesis meetings, rehearsals. Driving everywhere and using every moment of driving time to belt out whatever song I was currently working on...
Complete and total absorption in my thesis -as of then unnamed-Perceiving Suffering; Ethical Implications of Photographic Transparency, my senior photography show and the newest musical revue we were putting together.

Worried and stressed about classes, getting high honors on that thesis, finding a job and apartment, post-college summer plans... dragging myself and my stuff into my apartment late at night to make coffee and settle in with my laptop over at Joel's place to put in a few more hours on the thesis.

Friends constantly popping in and out of my apartment and everyone else to say hi, complain about work, vent latest drama, bring by freshly baked cookies or brownies, offer to make a run to the grocery store... a never ending stream of people to talk to, bounce ideas off of...

Struggling to pull myself up from a broken heart, getting up every morning and making decisions as to how I would get through that day, the next week, the next month. Trying to use every moment to make myself better, not only for the obvious reasons, but also because I needed proof that I was worth it, that my heartbreak could not kill me. Feeling like I would never feel anything like that again... scared as all hell of the year to come...

January 2007 -

Black pants, black sweater, black heels, straight hair with newly cut bangs, touches of makeup here and there to polish up, crawling out of bed in my Brooklyn apartment and hopping on the subway....

Getting to the office and downing two cups of coffee within the first half hour, checking email and responding to old friends, professors, thesis advisers... Sitting at my desk in a huge building in midtown Manhattan, producing, copying and proofing legal documents. Small talk with young associate lawyers as they walk by, venting about the lack of artistic and intellectual stimulation in this job to my paralegal friends. Hoping that the adorable associate who works next to me will come out and talk to me and make a time to have coffee and discuss the law school he attended...

Trying to plan for the weekend to come in during which I will drive up to Boston to see my best friend from college on her birthday and pick up boxes that I left with another friend when school ended... Looking forward to getting my camera back (which I left in Boston last time I was up there)... Missing my friends, professors, directors, advisers... Missing photography, graphic design, writing, singing everyday... Desperately wishing I could run down the hall to Casey, Caroline, Zipmo or Joel and plop myself down on one of their beds to take a nap with them... wishing Caroline had woken me up with a cup of coffee in bed this morning, that Joel would come sit on the couch and curl up next to me as we work, that Casey and I could take a ride all over Great Barrington with loud music blaring and lots of gossiping.

Longing for engagement in my work, in the people around me. Bored and somewhat depressed with my New York friends' monotonous and uninspired plans to spend every free evening "getting drinks" with the same people and usually the same places, to discuss the same things. Trying to find the motivation and energy in myself to throw myself into creative endeavors so that i don't lose myself in this job and life... Researching graduate schools, starting to take some voice lessons again, trying to get back to myself...

******

Hi there. This is me. I have been inspired by a woman I used to know and her beautiful blog... Reading it has made me long to have a space where I can write, describe, vent, ask questions, receive comments and advice, create something that is the world through my eyes... So here I go!