Thursday, July 29, 2010


Lately, my acquaintances and friends have been leaving San Diego in droves. This phenomenon appears in predictable waves: it occurred after I graduated college, after I graduated law school, and for a third time when my classmates found jobs elsewhere.

I have mixed feelings about the whole situation. I'm sad to see my friends leave. I'm happy that they will be embarking on new adventures. I'm envious because a part of me believes that I should be the one going on these adventures. I'm resentful and afraid of being forgotten and left behind. Still, I'm touched with the quiet relief that I won't have to leave the city I have only recently begun to embrace.

When I told a friend that I had found my dream job in San Diego, she followed up her hearty congratulations with a comment that sent a stab of panic into my soul. She predicted, jokingly, that I will end up staying in San Diego forever. While I adore this city and readily acknowledge that there are far, far worse places to be "stuck", a part of me wonders if I will allow or have already begun to allow this warm Southern California sun to lull me into complacency.

I've been thinking a lot about the nature of leaving and the people who make up these sudden or not-so-sudden departures. I've been thinking about the people who work their way into our schedules and become smiling fixtures. I've been thinking about the people who have become the unwitting backbone of many support systems. I've been thinking about the people who drop into our lives, unexpectedly, and leave a warm, fuzzy imprint.

I used to think of myself as someone untethered, someone who could and would befriend and laugh and love and wander and explore and change, recklessly. Fly by the seat of my pants and escape by the skin of my teeth and wear my heart on my sleeve and all that nonsense. Now I'm becoming terribly sentimental. Now I wish I could hold on, just a little longer.

Friday, July 23, 2010

the nature of the beast

I attended a networking event very recently. It was the typical stiff affair aided by low lighting, alcohol, and finger foods. There were clumsy nametags and draped pearls and some awkward shifts in conversation. I bumped into a classmate that I haven't seen in awhile and we talked about his girlfriend, who is an utterly stunning creature, and how she's been tapping her feet and directing his attention, pointedly, at the unadorned fourth digit on her left hand. I told him you can't put a price on love. Then we made the typical marriage jokes and our little circle became a big, sympathetic circle and photographers swooped in and everything was quite merry indeed.


Maybe related:

I could be walking in a silent corridor, I could be wrapped up in my thoughts, I could be smiling into an unspecified distance.

I could also be striding away from some sort of pleasant networking event where starched shirts are tucked in and sparkling engagement rings are on display and we are engaged in lively discussions re: unusual dog breeding and shooting guns and twelve hour work days.

Some moments, you feel like you are spinning.

Life doesn't care that you try to be A Good Person or that you strive to smile or help or assist. It's not enough. I want more. This can't be it. All I can say is that I don't know. What I do know: the thought of smelly minivans and cleaning up after others and ushering little ones to soccer practice scares me. Ok, correction: mainly it's the slowing down and the complacency and the boring that I can't stand. Only in that sense does adulthood scare me, only in that sense do I found myself allergic to obligations that extend beyond my own. I know, it's only if I find the right one, the right one, then it wouldn't matter so much anymore? Somehow, I disagree.

I feel like a manic whirlwind. Please don't pin me down like a butterfly. Please don't plan out my life for me. I still want to learn 34758 languages and finally tack pictures on my walls and bake too many cakes and eat hot sauce until my face is covered with tears and laugh if I feel like laughing and be a great, great person. I have way too much to do. There is way too much to learn.

Thursday, July 8, 2010

Ninja Say What?

I've watched this video probably about 10 times already, but it still makes me laugh.