Law School

Yesterday was my first day of law school. I was stressed for 75 percent of the day.  Do you ever have days when you just want to go home and not talk to anyone because all of your energy has been spent?  That was how I felt. It wasn't because I had engaged in really active things, it was because I had such a heightened anxiety level. Over the next few weeks, I really need to brainstorm some ways that I can calm myself down within a class.

Also, during my first class, I answered a question before my professor finished the question. It turns out the last two words were qualifiers for what he wanted, and I didn't have an exact example and thus left him silent for a few seconds. THE ONLY ONE THAT DAY. Woo, what a great first impression. This left me stressed the rest of the day. AND, I become frustrated when we can't follow the schedule in class and since everyone wanted to show how intelligent they were, we barely got through two slides in that class... they were 19 in total. Yeah. I am a firm believer in having a solid base of knowledge before delving into a world of hypotheticals. the professor was trying to teach use how to approah those f'in crazy situations that you posed, but you wouldn't let him finish.

I also realized that I am one of the youngest people in law school, and thus it is okay to not have as much background knowledge. So good to be 23 and starting this path. I learn so much every day. Yet, it's stressful so I bought myself a gluten-free vanilla mini-cake to celebrate completing my first day as I watched trashy tv. (Don't worry, I went to the gym first...) 

Today? The Best Day

"What day is it?"
"It's today," squeaked Piglet.
"My favorite day," said Pooh.

Saturday rainy mornings give me a chance to catch up on the news and on updating myself on the blogs I use to re-center myself. This morning I had the pleasure of a common thread.  I love the idea that you can treat every day as something marvelous and new.  If you just stop, put your mind to the side, and appreciate the beauty or humor in the small things than you can smile. Sometimes people say I have a sardonic smile, but I am just trying to analyze something while maintaining a positive outlook. If the situation is negative I try to think what I can do to improve my surroundings. Yesterday, I was riding the bus to Pike Place Market to take some pictures of the fish market.  After a few stops, a few people sat in all the seats around me. For some reason, I couldn't stop smiling at the bright green Sounders jerseys or the man who took part of a newspaper to wipe the blood of his ankle.  I also noticed that there was newspaper all over. When I got up to leave, I picked up all of the newspaper and waited for my stop. Everyone started talking to each other about the Sounders game in the back of the bus when I left. Before, we were all looking at each other but weren't exchanging any words. I loved listening to the shift in conversation.

There is this Project called the Best Day Project started by a young woman in San Francisco.  For the majority of her lived life, she had been suicidal.  When she turned 24 she vowed to turn things around. She wrote out 365 things that she would love to day and every day she chooses one from a bowl and makes it the BEST DAY EVER. Some of the tasks are time consuming and large endeavors, but some consist of the mundane everyday things that can be great depending on how you approach them.  Could you imagine what life would be like if you approached every moment as if it was a great journey that you were embarking on.

What would your outfit be? Would you bring any essential tools?

We can make everyday a favorite day for a different reason.  It doesn't make it less special, it makes it different.

Scribbling Love Letters on Whiteboards

Dear Em,

Tonight I spent hours scouring the internet for the perfect quote to fill the better half of my whiteboard.  I wanted to find something that I could read every morning for the next few days or weeks and I would fill full and ready to take on whatever I faced in the world.  My whiteboard quotes are very important to me. They remind me to be kind to everyone I meet, despite my struggles because I have no idea what their personal battle looks like. They remind me the hardest part of the day is choosing what mindset that you are going to face the world with.  After all of my searching, I settled on the quote you sent me.  I wrote it in cursive, in pink. The first few words are fifty percent bigger than the rest. When I finished the first two lines I realized that if I continued to write that large that I wouldn't fit the entire text. But I kept the disproportionality. Love is the biggest word. It reminds me that I am not perfect, but it doesn't matter. Our love is a choice. The qualities that bind us together wil never fit into a geometric shape perfectly, but they fit us.

No one has given me quotes to fill my whiteboard before, except my good friend Marta, but that's different. She has the same habit. You just gave me material to make me smile throughout my day. I didn't prompt you.

When you gave me lilies, you sent me a card that said "I dare you to love me."  I want to tell you that I am taking that dare. I'm taking that dare because it is the least risky dare I have ever had to take in the name of love. I'm taking that dare because to me it really isn't a dare at all.

I trust you. Never before have I trusted anyone that I loved. This is what has always been missing.

Em, I don't need you. I trust you and choose you to be the one I love. I know that I will not be the only one carrying this relationship. I know that we can walk together equally and that if one of us needed help, the other would be there to support them. You are capable, kind, joyful, observant, thoughtful, and supportive.  Your work ethic and playfulness ensure that you could provide a stable life with many unforgetable moments.

You inspire growth and give me great material for my whiteboards.   Pictures of you may not line my walls, but your words line the curves of my spirit throughout the day.

Love,
Crystal

YAY Gifts.

 I get THE BEST GIFTS!!! 

Oh, Social Justice Folks

450 dollars later and I have all of my textbooks for the first quarter of law school. I seemed to forget, readily, how expensive it is to buy textbooks.

Yesterday, I went to the Indian Law Symposium at the University of Washington. They discussed this case: Adoptive Couple vs. Baby Girl. Many were adamant that a decision in favor of the couple was an injustice. But people?!?!  The father had no involvement in the child's life and was willing and ready to sign over his parental rights. In fact, when he signed the adoption papers, he thought he was signing over his parental rights. Under South Carolina state law, his behaviors constituted a forfeiture of parental rights, and since the child had been residing there and living with the adoptive family. The ruling was in favor of the couple.

Don't get me wrong, I am for Native American rights and fighting for justice, but the conversations around this topic at the symposium seemed so blind to children's rights and the best interest of the child.  AHHHH, people, can't you have an interdisciplinary informed approach to social justice?!?!? Children are not property. They are individuals. Separating them from a caregiver at such a young age causes attachment issues and early trauma. AND AND you wanted to place here with a father that had no involvement in her life and wanted to forgo his parental rights?!?

You're kidding right.

My Little Cabbage

Over the last few months I felt drained.  I watched myself as I transitioned from waking up at 5AM and being joyful throughout my day to working and trying to find moments ANYWHERE to sleep. I had my heart broken and I felt fatigued.  Something in my emotional capacity shut-off. Money mattered more to me than love.

And then I went to Wyoming to visit with my girlfriend. We started dating in late August, but we hadn't seen each other since March. In fact, she got to see me in the emotional pitfall that was the year of 23. Which was horrible because despite caring for me, I shut her out multiple times. It was hard for me to distinguish who she was behind her emotions and excitement to get to know me. Throughout the last 6 months, I knew that I had feelings for her but I wouldn't let myself give them merit or acknowledge them. In fact, her emotions allowed me to excuse her eagerness to get to know me as shallow character.

Yet, when I was in Newfoundland something told me that I had to let go of the pain and embrace a future. And then, she bought a plane ticket for me to come visit her once I came out to Seattle.  A mere 6 days into Seattle life I got on a plane to Casper, Wyoming. She was standing in the airport waiting for me with a puffin in hand. When I walked up to her, I was nervous. Would I like this person besides the phone and Internet connection that we had? Would the next five days be unbearable?

Then we got to her friends' house to spend the night. She brought me a towel, clean pillows, and toothpaste. Holy god, she was thoughtful and cared about the small things that I needed. I've never been in a relationship where I could trust the other person to take care of the small things.... or even think of me first.

The next few days where more of the same. I think I tested her in ways that I didn't think was possible. She literally paid for everything. I shouldn't have let her, because I could have paid and should have paid for some things, but I wanted to see where her kindness ended and her frustration of being there for me began. It never ended. She never got mad and she always wanted to give more.

At night, laying across from her, I cried. Yes, I wanted to shut down and I was afraid of caring about someone again. Giving all of yourself and not getting anything in return is exhausting. Soon I realized that that was the past. It wasn't Em.

I met her family, her friends. They won me over with their kindness and genuine personality. In five days, she made me realize that I wasn't running from her but from being hurt and what my previous thoughts on relationships were.

And in Wyoming, I let myself fall in love.

Wyoming, Oh Wyoming

After 6 days in Seattle, I went to Casper, Wyoming.  The last five days have been full of new things and Yellowstone. On my plane ride back to Seattle, I will blog. Can I force myself to blog? I need to.

I think I was infused with a new appreciation for things.

Bus Rides of Seattle: Just the Beginning

Hazzah, Hazzah. As my thoughts of what could implode based on U.S. military action in Syria race dramatically through my mind, I am forced to recollect some thoughts I have had on a different matter while riding the bus today.

Today, I got on the bus in the northern Seattle neighborhood in which I reside, and a man playfully hit on me.  I brushed it off and instead of getting annoyed by my common thoughts of gender and what it means to be considered as a sexual object as a queer woman, I began to think about race. I thought about the race and ethnicity of the men that usually hit on me.  (Please note that I am generalizing only behaviors of men that I as a white woman, have experienced and witnessed to other white women.   Since, I am not a woman of color I don't feel I could comment on this experience.)

First note: When I reject the advances of white males, I usually get an aggressive response in which the man usually begins to degrade me in either appearance or character. It feels as if my rejection was not justifiable, even if I am queer or not available. They felt they had a right to my body or person and I violated their right by refusing to indulge them.

Second note: When a male of a minority hits me, and I reject him, he usually persist with sexual remarks in attempt to reassure me that a sexual experience with him would be pleasurable. Sometimes, he doesn't but I am usually left with a remark like, just remember you are so cute or beautiful, etc. It feels like when rejection happens minority males feel like they can't use their character to attempt to persuade me... like the only way that I would be with them is for physical reasons.

Don't get me wrong, in both instances I feel objectified, but when race comes into play I find that there are remnants of structural racism that pervade the objectification of white women. I mean to say that the tactics are based on a presumption that the white woman may hold racist views and they must be played into.

Again, these are just thoughts but I think this would be a great sociological study.

Yesler Terrace

In my adventures of the day, and my unwillingness to pay a bas fare for a two part adventure I walked three miles to South Seattle from Downtown.  On the second part of my walk I was on my way to a meeting, a meeting in Yesler Terrace. I had some feelings about this walk, but I think this article captures my thoughts even better than I could: http://www.thestranger.com/seattle/the-twilight-of-yesler-terrace/Content?oid=15933703

Within the last few days, I have flown to California, packed up all of my belongings, and drove to Seattle. The last three days were full of memories with my friend Julia at BumperShoot.

But, I got my healthy dose of trashy t.v. in tonight... and I watched as a group of people went up to a horse and told the equine therapist why they would be scared to clean the hoof of the horse. Of course, in my sensitive nature I began to tear up. Why?  What would I be afraid of if I had to complete the same exercise? Well, I would be afraid that I would hurt the horse.  What does that mean?  I have an extreme sense of guilt about doing what I need to do in order to succeed, and possibly hurting (or at least feeling like I have hurt others) in getting there.

What would your biggest fear be?  How do you think that translates into your current emotional state?