Silver Linings

I've been trying to find the words that would best encapsulate the ordeal that has been my life for the past two weeks, but there really is no explanation sufficient. Yet, the thought came to me while still groggy from medication and in the midst of a bout of feeling sorry for myself that life really is a series of unplanned events. Life is merely reality and whether events are good or bad depend on our perception of them and whether we see them through rose colored glasses or through the bottom of a half empty glass.

While there is little doubt that recovering from a punctured lung is not the way that I wanted to spend my summer, it happened and there's little use in dwelling on that fact and wondering why this kind of this always seems to happen to me. But, what I believe deserves time and attention are the amazing people that I have in my life. I know I've written about this before, but I believe that any expectation I ever had has been far exceeded.

I have become a very different person than who I was in college. I don't know why and there's really no point in examining it, but I grew up to be somewhat of an introvert. I need much more time than I would have ever needed in the past and I have become much more independent and self-sufficient. But, I would like to think that I am the type of person who you can count on when it really matters. I believe I am accepting. I believe in giving people more than just a second chance. And I don't hold grudges. And I don't have any regrets other than apologies.

There are so many things that I wish I could have said to so many people in my life. And there are people who will continue to be petty and forever be consumed by the small things in life and will always hold grudges. There are other people who will remain in their cliques and continue to demean, never actually seeing the consequences of their actions or the forest through the trees. But, I believe I made the right choices in life. None of these people are in my life any more. Those who are will support and love me until death, regardless of who I've become. And, I suppose that's really the essence of true friendship.

The friends that I have are truly rare. We love each other and we have helped each other through tragedy, happiness, surprise, and anger. There are people who might not understand us or comprehend such a large number of women remaining close. But this only contributes to the rarity of this friendship. Each one of us, I believe, lends something unique to our lives and without this attribute, without this gift, we'd be less human and at a disadvantage for not having each woman in our lives. And while my contact with these women is no longer daily, I am continually blessed by their presence, forgiveness, understanding, compassion, consideration, support and love. As a consequence to my independence, I suppose I really don't rely on anyone else and I expect that I have the tools to get through something on my own. But this past week has shown me that I don't need to do that and there are people willing to help me. Regardless of whether I've asked for it. Perhaps this whole disaster happened so I stop to look at the forest, and realize all the good I've been missing.

And, as a deviation from this, I'd like to recognize Jeff. He works harder than anyone I know. But, the kind of devotion, love, care and concern this man has shown me these past weeks literally leaves me speechless. I wish that I could convey to him the true sense of gratitude that I feel at having him in my life. He has slept by my side every night. He has taken care of me. We have gone far beyond the traditional notions of boyfriend and girlfriend. This man has helped me get dressed in the morning, has attended every doctor's appointment with me, he has made sure I eat well, and has cared for me and gone to great lengths to help me in any way that I need. I know that sentimentality makes him blush, but I just wanted him to know that I know the sacrifice he's making, even if he doesn't show it.

So, thanks...for helping me see the silver lining...for picking up those rose colored glasses and making the best of a bad situation. Your friendship has always been important to me.

The Hilton Riots

Remember the LA Riots in the 1990s? Over Rodney King? A black man who was savagely beaten by white policemen who were later acquitted, sparked riots all over the county. And, from the way that this "Paris Goes to Jail" fiasco is turning out, the rage in Los Angeles seems to be building again.

According to reports, Kathy and Rick Hilton went to visit their daughter in prison - a.k.a. a medical facility - and were allowed to skip the line of visitors, most of whom had been waiting since before 6:00 a.m. to see their loved ones. People interviewed outside the prison were enraged, and some even had their visits cut short so that the Hiltons could visit in privacy. I'm not entirely sure when the Hiltons became the First Family. But, the simple fact that Paris is getting preferential treatment has sparked outrage all across the county.

The news to Paris: Nobody likes you and those who do are in the minority. People are pissed that you're getting special treatment because you flaunt that you are above everyone else. Calling Barbara Walters and claiming repentance does not change the public's perception of you. Who even gets to call Barbara Walters in prison? She wouldn't be my first choice. Additionally, if people actually liked you, no one would care. Remember when Michelle Rodriguez went to jail? Yeah - neither do I. And this is the other thing I don't get - Paris refused to eat (thus the reason for serving the remainder of her sentence in a medical facility) because she didn't want a guard snapping a picture of her going to the bathroom. Please, sense the irony. We have seen countless naked crotch and ass shots. Her clothing choices don't leave much to the imagination and, let's not forget the debacle of "One Night in Paris." And she's embarrassed about having someone take a picture of her pantsless, sitting down? She was in a porno! The girl has hid nothing from America.

Truthfully, the media should be embarrassed of themselves. They have hyped this up and magnified every little detail. Even the Washington Post has stooped to report on Paris news. The girl America loves to hate is going to come out of this whole fiasco smelling like roses. And everyone else who comes out of prison is just left with the black mark on their record. The disparity is shocking and saddening. I don't blame the public for getting upset.

Count your blessings...

I never understood the phrase, "count your blessings." We say this to ourselves, and to other people when bad news is received as if to somehow lessen the blow. But, perhaps its when the best news is received that we should really take stock of all that we are given, and how lucky we all are, regardless of the trials that we face in our lives.

Yesterday, the doctor called to tell me that this tumor, the source of countless hours of sleeplessness, is benign. I don't have cancer. This news came on a pretty bad day for me. While I told myself that the only solution was to keep a positive outlook, I couldn't help but feel sorry for myself yesterday. I don't understand sometimes why all this stuff happens to me. But last night, I was sitting outside on my deck, feeling like the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders, I found myself considering all for which I am grateful.

Mostly, I am grateful for the people I have chosen to surround myself with. My girlfriends are the most unassuming individuals I've ever known. I've always thought that I could never do anything to change their perception of me. I could never say or do anything to make them like me less or not want to be friends with me. They're the ones that listened to me, who called me and sought me out to talk, who confronted me with the issues even when I didn't necessarily want to be. That kind of friendship is unbelievable. Oftentimes, I think that true friendship is not about the nights out and the parties, I think it's more about being there for someone when it really matters. It's about shared experiences. A true friend will want to share the experience with you, even if it's not always a good one.

I'm thankful for my family who, despite their repeated assurances, called me literally every hour to see how I was doing. And my mother, who would listen to me talk and cry for hours if I asked her to. My dad, who lined things up and formed countless plans of action just to be on the safe side, so I'd never be without a game plan.

And, most importantly, I'm so grateful for Jeff. He seems born to deal with this kind of stuff. He did his research and talked to people. He called me with jokes to make me laugh and didn't let me get down on myself, despite the fact that I really wanted to most of the time. I never felt like I was going through this alone. He was always there. Even when I kicked him out of the biopsy, he was there. He made me have fun, he taught me to golf, and he also let me cry and didn't try to make me stop. I truly never felt so loved by any person. I felt protected and safe. I knew that, no matter what the outcome, he was never going to leave me or let me go at this alone. He's not really a sentimental, so I'll stop...but, I am so thankful for who he is.

There are countless of other things that I'm so thankful for. Counting my blessings is an absolutely insurmountable task. But I love undertaking it.

Words you never want to hear

This blog sits in the quiet recesses of one corner of the Internet...and I don't know if anyone ever reads it. No one comments on it, so I suppose that perhaps its my own personal, private diary in the most public space in the history of humanity.

There are certain words and phrases that no one wants to hear - phrases like, "You're fired" or "I don't love you any more." These words, inevitably, signal that we must be forced to change despite the fact that we don't want to. And, our natural reaction is to desperately try and hold onto the last few minutes of normalcy that existed before those words were ever uttered.

I encountered one of these phrases - "We've found a lump." To any woman - or any person - for that matter, this immediately inspires fear. I heard those words and I began desperately trying to clutch the last happy moments I remembered - driving to the doctor's office, laughing on the phone with Jeff while he was doing some silly impersonation of a wayward Southern preacher. They've found a lump - a tumor - about the size of a dime in my back, just to the left of my cervcial spine.

I don't even know if my reaction is warranted. I don't know what's wrong with me. I have a biopsy scheduled for this Friday and I'll have to wait a week or so to get the results. As if life couldn't get any crueler, I need to wait to find out if I have cancer. Cancer...that's the first time since this happened, that I've been able to actually think - or in this case, type - those words out. I don't want to even think them because everything will be fine.

My girlfriend, Shan, had cancer our senior year of college. I called her last night because she, of all people, understands. She told me that I'm allowed to be upset about this for a day - I get twenty-four hours to cry it all out. The, I need to start taking care of myself. She once told me that the only thing in the world you can ever really control is your attitude. You can't control anything other than that, at this point. You can be proactive about the care that you receive, you can follow your doctor's orders to the letter...but at some point, you need to step back and let the chips fall where they may. But, your attitude lets you determine how you're going to view your situation.

I promise that I'll get there. I will gain strength and I will stand on my own two feet and face this head on, no matter what happens. I'm just not there now. Mostly I'm just afraid.

You win some...you lose some...

But not this time!

After much anticipation on my part...I received the opinion back from the court on my first trial. For background, please read my post from May 15. Needless to say, I was terrified as I saw the papers sitting in my incoming mail that my secretary so noiselessly placed on my desk, whispering, "The Anderson decision came back today..." and backing out of my office.

I never really wrote much about the trial after it happened...but needless to say, the trial went about as badly as it really could have. I didn't do anything wrong, I didn't screw up the procedure, but the two men I was so terrified of going against were horribly unprepared for the trial and wanted to argue between themselves instead of argue the merits of the case. I kept my mouth closed. Then, my co-defense counsel pulled me aside during a break and told me that he didn't want to engage in too much "finger-pointing" which was the basis of my entire defense. I laughed that off until my first cross-examination when he began objecting to every single question I asked. I was becoming extremely flustered and nervous until the judge stepped in and told my co-defense counsel that she was issuing a blanket overrule to all his subsequent objections. (I think she may have been on my side and may have sensed my frustration and flustered-ness)...Then, about a week after trial, my associates and I are sitting outside at lunch one day on Nicollett when the plaintiff's lawyer walks by, approaches me, and tells me that after the decision is issued, his client would like me to know he's available and would like to take me to dinner.

So, needless to say, I think the deck may have been stacked in my favor.

But, the opinion came back today, dismissing my client from the suit with prejudice. As far as legal opinions and decisions go, this is about as good as it gets for an attorney. It's as if the claim against my client never existed.

For a brief period of time at least, I can claim that I'm undefeated.

And, in the words of my mother, success is the best revenge.

I'm a friend of Bill W....

There are certain people belong - and should go - to Alcoholics Anonymous.

My dog is not one of them. However, the drunk girl who fed him jello shots might benefit from becoming acquainted with Bill W.

Last night, I had my weekly kickball game. Maverick loves to attend the games and is our official team mascot. He loves all the attention he gets from my teammates and he gets to play with other dogs...be outside, and he even gets a bite of the occasional hot dog. Every time I pick up his little bag to go to kickball, he gets so excited.

I am the first base(wo)man. I like that Justin Morneau and I have some special bond because of this. In any case, I'm on the field and I leave Maverick to his own devices on the sideline. I look over at one point in the inning and see some girl feeding jello shots to my eight month old puppy. He's thinking that he's getting a treat and this girl is laughing hysterically.

I went over to her, called her a few choice words and questioned her ability to think...eventually, my team separated us. Her excellent logic pointed out that she thought it'd be funny to get a dog drunk. So. Maverick and I leave the game and the poor little guy is scared to death because he can't figure out what's wrong with him. He's having problems walking straight and he keeps sitting back on his haunches and looking at his paws.

We (meaning drunky and myself) went to pick up Jeff and we subsequently head into Uptown to the SoHo Cafe for dinner. Maverick is kind of lolling against Jeff's stomach. We decided to just pick something up and take it home because our dog is drunk. In any case, while I'm parking, Maverick throws up all over the back seat of the car....so, we clean it up...and both of us are fuming at this point. Maverick is crying and moaning outside the car because he doesn't feel well and he's embarrassed and afraid he's going to get in trouble for puking.

Eventually, we make it home. Maverick goes to sleep it off. At some point, I pick him up to take him to bed and he's moaning because the poor little guy has a hang over. Needless to say, sleep was not an option last night. The only thing that made Maverick feel better was rubbing his belly. So, I stayed up with my sick "child" all night long.

But, fear not, he was fine this morning and even attempted to swallow a battery whole. If this dog lives to see his first birthday, I will consider it a miracle.