Reflection from October 24th, 2011 @ Age 30
It’s curious. I hadn’t spoken with Anastasia in years—probably since she told me she was having a destination wedding and would invite me, but knew that I didn’t have the money to come. Then, somehow out of the blue, she invites me to come stay with her at her house, which she refused to describe in any way, shape or form—she says, “just come and see it.” Well, it was huge, as in, ridiculously huge. Then, I leave and a couple weeks later she announces her first pregnancy, and lets me know that she got pregnant the weekend that I came to stay. Then, just this past October 10th, the day following my Facebook post to Adam saying Happy 1st Anniversary, she announces her secoond pregnancy on Facebook. Not that she would have known it was my anniversary on the 9th but, it is certainly peculiar. I tell you what—she’s one in a million.
So I was all pissed off, and angry and sad and feeling bad because she’s on baby no.2 with a 4,000 square foot house and a Lexus. And then I started thinking…
Anastasia has two alcoholic parents, she has no family nearby; she has a husband with an alcoholic brother and who knows what kind of mother, since they’re no longer speaking. And who knows what kind of relationship she has with her husband. All I know is that she’s still got evil intentions—she’s probably hiding a whole host of demons, and as she leads her seemingly perfect little life, the closet will only grow larger. She’s not one to envy—but if she wants to play this game, I’m not going to cower in the fucking corner.
So I wrote on her wall, I said, “Congratulations Anastasia!” And I mean it, in a sense. I mean, if she wants to let me know she’s won the race in having babies more quickly than I, then I’m happy to oblige in that particular victory of hers. I feel sad for her, though—in that, for whatever reasons, she feels compelled to continue to “get back at me.” She accepted my friend request back in June—was it? But she has not once replied to any of the several messages that I have sent her. Not once. She’s obviously out for revenge, or something of the sort. In any case, I’ll have to keep a lookout. But I’ll tell you one thing, I’m done feeling bad for her—and I’m done feeling bad as a result of her cruel intentions. She wants to play this little game of hers; I guess we’ll play her little game. Shows only one thing, that she’s still in the same little wicked place she’s always been. She’s just gotten to be an expert in illusion is all.
In any case, speaking of games, I was speaking with Adam yesterday, and suggested that I might tell Paul about the book. I suppose I am just feeling guilty that I am not progressing more quickly at work—especially in light of all of the ways that Paul has gone out of his way to help me succeed as a lawyer. I guess my line of thought was that Paul is my mentor, and wants to see me happy, and deserves to know where I am at, blah, blah, blah. I guess I just thought he might respect my decision to let him know that I am working on this book, and once I have finished the project, my time will be fully committed to becoming an attorney. And I guess I also thought he might be able to appreciate what I am doing with the book, maybe even admire it.
Ohh what ambitious suppositions, though! As Adam pointed out, Paul is an employer, who is running a business—and it would likely not be in my best interest to tell him that I am working on a project outside of work, that is detracting from my focus as it relates to becoming an attorney. I suppose I just want him to know that it is not that I don’t care—it’s just that I want to finish up my end of this dream and put it out into the world for judgment, so that I can move on knowing that if nothing happens with it, at least I tried my very best.
But it’s all a game, and how am I to know what Paul’s intentions are? It makes me think of someone, probably that bitch social worker I saw in Cleveland, who once said to me that Neil Siegel would not keep me on as an associate attorney just because I had been working for him for two years, or, “just for continuity.” She was right. It’s all a fucking game; it’s all just business. Don’t take it personally; it’s all just business. And so it is, and so I will play this stupid little game a little while longer. As I told Adam, I suppose, sometimes you just have to play along with others’ little games until you get to the place you’ve been heading, where you can finally make up the rules and play your own game. And so it goes…
Let me follow up by saying, one thing that Anastasia probably has wanted her entire life, in part, if not in most part—due to her peculiar raising, is to have a “normal” life. She has that now, at least in the sense that our American society has given it. And for that, I am thankful. Anastasia, I am sure, endured an enormous amount of emotional pain for whatever reasons, culminating in her suicide attempt senior year at Denison. Since then, she has built a life for herself that likely exceeds even her own expectations for herself, and in that, I hope she is very happy. The only caveat I see, in her repeated attempts to burn me—is that she mistakenly believes that we, or, she and I, are running the same race. Perhaps at one point we were—but even then, really, we were not. And we still are not.
She may or may not be sorely mistaken when she finds out where I am heading—how she feels is really of no consequence to me at this point. Well, it is, but only to a particular degree, which, upon being met, I will no longer take care of her needs. But suffice it to say, she is operating on the false pretense that we are running the same race. To that effect, I do hope she eats her words, or actions as they may be, one day soon.
She has hurt me. She thinks she has won. But she does not know of the place from which I have come, nor the path upon which I have journeyed, nor the destination to which I am heading. I look forward to the day when I can show her. I look forward to the day when I will be understood.
On another note, and continuing with the theme of game playing, I have my first rendezvous with the Women Lawyers of Franklin County this morning at 8:30am at the Columbus Bar Association downtown. I am highly not looking forward to going and spending my time with a bunch of pretentious, condescending, self-serving, self-interested, selfish and whatever else you want to call them women lawyers. While I am thankful for the educational training that law school provided me, I am embarrassed of being a lawyer. Maybe that’s why I am dragging my feet in the sand to such an extent! But in any case, I am also hoping that my dread will not come to fruition, and that these women will not be as horrible as I anticipate they will be. I suppose we shall see. I will let you know….
Ohh, on one more final note, I wanted to relay a conversation I had with Kayleigh Saturday night at her house. That night, she was telling me about her two cousins—brother and sister. The brother is with this chick who has three children: the oldest probably not belonging to Kayleigh’s cousin, the second may be her cousin’s child, and the third is likely to be her cousin’s child. In any case, this bitch smoked during her pregnancy, ate horribly and did god knows what else during each one of her pregnancies, and now all three children have horrible developmental disorders. Well in any case, for some reason to which Kayleigh was not privy, the children were taken away from these two assholes, and placed in the custody of Kayleigh’s aunt—the cousin’s mother. In addition, also in the last couple of months, Kayleigh’s other cousin, the sister—well…let me give you the background.
Kayleigh’s girl cousin was married to this guy—this guy who was straight as an arrow. They had two kids, but eventually got divorced. The guy got remarried, and somehow got addicted to painkillers, which led to other drugs, which led to loss of employment, stealing, and robbery of his father-in-law’s home. Well, long story short, father-in-law found out, prosecuted, and son-in-law came to father-in-law’s house and shot himself inside of said home. Now this is tragic, for sure, but what’s more—the son of Kayleigh’s girl cousin now has a father dead by suicide, which followed the suicides of two of his high school friends. What the fuck is wrong with this world?
Something is so very wrong here, and people just keep living on, day after day—and no one is looking to figure out the root of the issue because they don’t even care to identify the problem. It makes me sick, this society. But I intend to change it. One step at a time, one foot in front of the other—I have the means, and I intend to change it. One foot in front of the other, I proceed. One step at a time, I march on.
I better be careful here…I think the whole world is mad at me. I can’t figure out what is going on. I have been paranoid lately that many people are mad at me. And then I think of all the reasons why that could be attributed to my being a raging bitch, and I conclude that they are mad at me—all the while, in the absence of any concrete evidence of same whatsoever. And hence, I’m not really sure what is going on.
But I went to see Dr. Restuccio today and even he seemed mad at me, and he told me my blood pressure and heart rate were up significantly, and he told me he could set me up with a flu shot and I was like, “well…I don’t know.” I said, “I’m usually okay but, last winter I got the flu shot for the first time and I was sick all winter,” so I told him I would think about it and schedule for when I come in for my physical. I could have sworn he was mad at me—or judging me, or something.