I heard on How I Met Your Mother last night that "independent" is just another word for selfish... Independent is the first word that comes to mind when I describe myself!!
Is that true? If so, I'm pleading objectivism (again).
06/30/2011
so conflicted...
my fiance is taking the NYS bar in a month... needless to say our once "no you hang up the phone!" convos are getting borderline curt. i feel like this might be the beginning of me slowly handing over all the carefree happiness that we already enjoy to the Man so that someday, far from now, we'll be able to obtain the happiness that he intends for us yet will never fulfill us like the first...(cars, fancy houses, etc.) then again, my closet speaks french and my car german. i'm so conflicted!!
if you have a similar quagmire, I suggest this great Chinese classic: "The Story of the Stone"
06/29/2011
Tweed vs. Lace
Here she is- Elena by Enzoani. Like sugar turns to caramel under the influence of heat, lace and taffeta will turn saucy with a little structuring and a fierce collarbone.
I guess I am beginning this blog for the purpose of chronicling my transition from an independent young lady to a married woman. I am 25 and just completed my J.D., and this fall I begin a master's program in French literature (strange combo- I know). Scholarly to a fault, I have always remained very dedicated to the abstract, which lends itself very little to the establishment and care of romantic relationships. Nonetheless, perhaps because people want what they can't have, this has done very little to stymie the flow of men through my life. Although I had dealt with these occurrences with what I can only retrospectively call a callous disregard (evidenced by the fact that I just called these men "occurrences"), FINALLY, one day, a boy that I had been absent-mindedly seeing forced me to apologize to him over some typically unthoughtful way I had treated him.
He broke me like a wild horse.
My life, previously possessed of Jesus-like mental serenity, has since been turned upside down. And not necessarily in a good way- I was never waiting for or expecting love, and to be honest, it's kind of a bitch. To not have control over one's emotional state? To allow the emotional to inform the cognitive? I find myself riddled with such confusion and self-doubt- things that I've never felt in any of my academic pursuits- over such trivialities as an inflection in his voice or the way he looked at her. (Who's her? She's a beautiful, shiny-haired girl with a china doll face, huge boobs and a taste for the outdoors. She doesn't really exist but it's what I see anytime he's looking at anything with a vagina. The incubus...)
After going back and forth on the Tolstoyan virtues associated with married life, and the more Kierkegaardian value of a single devotion to the search for truth, Tolstoy won out. Love Anna Karenina. However, the question remains...
Can an independent-minded and spoiled dilettante find marital bliss among the lower-middle classes? Should I have Rosalind Connage'd him? (You know that was modeled on Zelda Sayre- and those two ended up perfectly happy together! Well... married at least.) It's not about the money... it's about the "narrow atmosphere." I fear that someone like myself with no mind whatsoever for the mundane practicalities in life- and in fact a serious aversion thereto- will not fare well in a marriage of little means. I'd like to think it's not really selfishness (although for a counterargument against the "evil" of selfishness, see Ayn Rand's "The Fountainhead"), but rather a natural propensity toward the abstract.
Notwithstanding the aforementioned misgivings, I am very much in this kind of love. Thus, the chronicle begins.
Recent Comments