i turned 26 this weekend, but i'm really not any different than i was at 10 years old. as a kid, my parents' standard response to "it's not fair" was always "well sorry, life's not fair." this answer incensed me; maybe life ISN'T fair, but it SHOULD be. and instead of blaming injustice on their perceived inevitabilities of life, my parents should've done their part to make it fair. (as a caveat, i'm sure that this response was more of a quick way to end an unwanted discussion than the result of any desire on their part to avoid doing the right thing.) even though i'm a public defender and incredibly overly protective of my perfect little delinquents, my ultimate goal is still to do what's right. kids deserve consequences for their actions. however, all crimes are only alleged to have occurred until proven beyond a reasonable doubt by the county attorney or until admitted to on the record. even if my client is guilty as sin, admitted his wrongdoing to the police, and handed over the evidence in a monogrammed bag, it's only fair to make the state do its job in convincing the judge.
at 26, "life's not fair" becomes even worse. because now i feel like i should be able to do something about it. i mean, i have a couple college degrees and a good credit score and shiny pointy-toed shoes. i should be able to use the influence of my goofy smile and professional appearance to gently herd people in the right direction. but in reality, i'm not any more useful in procuring world peace than i was at age 10. there is still a mile-high brick wall in the form of apathy and bureaucratic bullshit. the people in charge aren't the ones rotting away in detention. which i suppose makes it easy for them to make excuses to sit on their hands in disregard of the constitution. it also means they have plenty of time to sit around in designer suits sipping lattes and planning their rise to the top of the political food chain on the backs of little angst-ridden 14-year-old girls with crackhead moms.
just let it go, my boss says -- there's nothing you can do. thanks lady, but turning a blind eye isn't going to help me sleep at night either. six months with a bar card and i'm questioning my faith in the justice system. or more accurately, the integrity of the morons who man it.
i thought understanding was something i was growing into (however slowly) but i was wrong. and i don't want to understand how to justify inequity or alienate myself or to go down without a fight.
21 April 2008
10 April 2008
Good-bye Sequins, Good-bye Elvis
so i went to vegas for the first time a couple weeks ago. what a freak show. i'm not really into gambling -- i think because i don't understand why it's fun ... i like to play UNO with my sister and that's FREE -- but i do enjoy sparkly things and people-watching. so i wandered around wide-eyed in my sequins and dark eyeliner, drinking 52-oz strawberry daiquiris in football-shaped containers, marveling at the lights and energy and craziness ... and checking out the late-night wedding chapels. i had fun, but it was a bit overwhelming for this little country girl, and i didn't last much into the second night before i didn't care if i ever saw another neon light, slot machine, transvestite, deuce bus, 99-cent shrimp cocktail, etc. ever again and marched myself up to bed.
it also did not take long for me to decide that i no longer want to get married in las vegas (in the presence of elvis and with all guests clad in sequins), even though this has been my dream for as long as i can remember. it will still be an event with as little annoying planning of minute details as i can get away with, and everyone is still welcome to wear sequins, but there is no way i would marry someone that i actually like amid such schmaltz and imprudence. and i plan to marry someone that i actually like. a lot.
in response to my last post, tiger pointed me towards this article, marry him! the case for settling for mr. good enough, which advises women to forget about passion and start thinking about developing a good family infrastructure. because if you marry with great expectations, you are more likely to become disillusioned and resentful.
this article makes me squint my eyes and purse my lips -- a look generally reserved for the judge when she's being uncooperative with my monday morning demands -- perhaps because my entire life goal is not to procreate. this is one of many reasons that mormons make me nervous (a fact that i recently discovered, having moved to the southwest where they are found in abundance.) i don't have anything against kids, but feel like i am capable of living a productive, meaningful life without recreating myself in miniature, and then spending 18+ years trying to make sure it doesn't turn out like me.
there IS a reason people become disillusioned and resentful in marriage -- it's because they don't want to put any effort into it. relationships are work. romantic relationships especially, but it still takes a considerable amount of time and effort, mainly in the form of listening and talking, to maintain close friendships and family ties and even amicability with co-workers. the real trick is finding someone who understands that and who isn't going to give up on you. why bother putting all that work into someone who only makes you marginally happy? that, people, is bad economics. if i am going to devote my energy to some boy, he'd better inspire me to answer the door for him in just my apron every once in a while.
and why do you have to overlook the poor movie etiquette and abysmal fashion sense? i dated a guy in college whose whole life goal at the time was to achieve immortality. literally. he wanted to live forever. it's easy to admit that this is weird -- less easy to admit that i didn't love him in spite of this oddity, but because of it. i date a guy now who constantly questions my motivation, my authenticity and my thought process. (he also insists on taking a whiz outside -- usually from a high perch -- anytime there is an appreciable breeze and yells "OH shit" anytime we pass a law enforcement officer, usually leading me to believe i'm about to plow through a javelina in the middle road until i notice there are red-and-blues flashing 100 miles off in the distance.) these things drive me crazy, but i don't overlook them. instead, every time they happen i roll my eyes and smile. on the inside at least.
i've got 3 words for lori gottlieb and her theory on settling: fuck that shit. i don't want to be "relatively content" with a "stable, reliable life companion." i can be "relatively content" by myself, eating frozen thin mints, watching futurama, dancing around in my underwear on friday nights, and hanging out with other people's kids. and in fact, i can be a whole step higher at "actually content" doing these things and knowing that i don't have to wonder what i may have passed up in marrying the first good ol' reliable joe-schmoe to buy me a (probably sensibly modest) diamond ring after my 35th birthday. i've got bigger plans than sensibility and complacency.
so, while i may have a more conventional wedding than i had originally planned, i will never, ever settle for a conventional husband. there will still be big old sequins behind my eyes.
it also did not take long for me to decide that i no longer want to get married in las vegas (in the presence of elvis and with all guests clad in sequins), even though this has been my dream for as long as i can remember. it will still be an event with as little annoying planning of minute details as i can get away with, and everyone is still welcome to wear sequins, but there is no way i would marry someone that i actually like amid such schmaltz and imprudence. and i plan to marry someone that i actually like. a lot.
in response to my last post, tiger pointed me towards this article, marry him! the case for settling for mr. good enough, which advises women to forget about passion and start thinking about developing a good family infrastructure. because if you marry with great expectations, you are more likely to become disillusioned and resentful.
this article makes me squint my eyes and purse my lips -- a look generally reserved for the judge when she's being uncooperative with my monday morning demands -- perhaps because my entire life goal is not to procreate. this is one of many reasons that mormons make me nervous (a fact that i recently discovered, having moved to the southwest where they are found in abundance.) i don't have anything against kids, but feel like i am capable of living a productive, meaningful life without recreating myself in miniature, and then spending 18+ years trying to make sure it doesn't turn out like me.
there IS a reason people become disillusioned and resentful in marriage -- it's because they don't want to put any effort into it. relationships are work. romantic relationships especially, but it still takes a considerable amount of time and effort, mainly in the form of listening and talking, to maintain close friendships and family ties and even amicability with co-workers. the real trick is finding someone who understands that and who isn't going to give up on you. why bother putting all that work into someone who only makes you marginally happy? that, people, is bad economics. if i am going to devote my energy to some boy, he'd better inspire me to answer the door for him in just my apron every once in a while.
and why do you have to overlook the poor movie etiquette and abysmal fashion sense? i dated a guy in college whose whole life goal at the time was to achieve immortality. literally. he wanted to live forever. it's easy to admit that this is weird -- less easy to admit that i didn't love him in spite of this oddity, but because of it. i date a guy now who constantly questions my motivation, my authenticity and my thought process. (he also insists on taking a whiz outside -- usually from a high perch -- anytime there is an appreciable breeze and yells "OH shit" anytime we pass a law enforcement officer, usually leading me to believe i'm about to plow through a javelina in the middle road until i notice there are red-and-blues flashing 100 miles off in the distance.) these things drive me crazy, but i don't overlook them. instead, every time they happen i roll my eyes and smile. on the inside at least.
i've got 3 words for lori gottlieb and her theory on settling: fuck that shit. i don't want to be "relatively content" with a "stable, reliable life companion." i can be "relatively content" by myself, eating frozen thin mints, watching futurama, dancing around in my underwear on friday nights, and hanging out with other people's kids. and in fact, i can be a whole step higher at "actually content" doing these things and knowing that i don't have to wonder what i may have passed up in marrying the first good ol' reliable joe-schmoe to buy me a (probably sensibly modest) diamond ring after my 35th birthday. i've got bigger plans than sensibility and complacency.
so, while i may have a more conventional wedding than i had originally planned, i will never, ever settle for a conventional husband. there will still be big old sequins behind my eyes.
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