Know Your Audience

Me: "My Grandfather has an odd sense of humor."
Male friend: "Give me an example."
Me: "Well for instance, he introduced me and my cousin Heather as his barren granddaughters because we haven't had kids."
Male friend: "....do you need me to kick his ass?"

I live and work in a man's world. If you don't get sarcasm, if you can't take a joke (even when you have a sneaking suspicion that the joke is a half-truth and aimed at you personally) then you shouldn't be a female attorney. And you wouldn't survive in the Wehmeyer family. Compliments are given out backwards in the form of sarcasm ("Geez your ugly" - Grandfather again with a wink of his eye). Actual honest-for-goodness compliments are handed out also, don't get me wrong, but usually in private...Just so that honest comment cannot be used against the speaker in the future.
The only way to survive and thrive is to hand it right back in the same form it came: backward. Growing up with this, it's what I've come to prefer. Which is handy being a female lawyer - I'm living in a man's world.

And that is why it is important to survey your surroundings. One must always be cognizant of one's audience. If you're interviewing for a firm, google/bing/search/stalk the firm and see the male-to-female ratio. Try and determine who you'll be interviewing with. My rule of thumb (no wife beating with a thumb-wide stick required) is that if you're interviewing with males, wear a smart looking skirt suit, hair half down, nylons and medium to low heels. If it's a female, a neutral colored pant suit, hair up with small earrings, and low stylish heels. Either way, be understated. Leave them wanting more.
My uncle Mark told me a story about myself today that I had forgotten, which inspired this blog post. We were in Colorado for a cousin's wedding when I was 18. A few family members went to a pub for dinner one night. Mark and I bellied up to the bar. The bartender, understanding his audience, asked for my ID. I ran my painted fingernails through my hair a few times, flipping it over my shoulders and smiling sweetly to the young man. "Gosh I'm such an idiot. I left it in the condo. Can you spot a girl?"
I drank for free all night.
Mark paid for his beers.

I surveyed the scene; understood my audience and spotted a weakness in the guy: sweet girls (then why the hell did he fall for me?!). I think that this can be applied to all sorts of situations in life. Treat everyone differently. Treat everyone according to how you believe they should be treated. This will please your audience and help yourself. Nothing altruistic going on here; but no harm, no foul.

The Lotus Eaters

"The cool thing [about war] is,when this one's done, there's always another one."

I'm almost done with a book that is quickly becoming one of the best reads yet! The Lotus Eaters follows a female photographer to Saigon and through the Vietnam war in the 60's and 70's. the author, Tatjana Soli, does a beautiful job describing the horrors of the war, contrasted against the breathtaking backdrop of the lush nation of Vietnam. In one passage she says that "the beauty of the country made the violence especially awful. like slashing a pretty woman's face." - I couldn't help but think to the wars we're currently fighting. Is it easier to take, an easier pill to swallow, because we think of the middle east as an ugly, dried up piece of desert? it is easier because our men aren't bringing home "exotic" wives from the country we're at war with?

Is there anything that makes war easier to understand?

I guess having an attack on US soil makes war easier. Having the media whirlwind that followed made it harder. The main characters in this book are photographers. "Pictures could not be accessories to the story- evidence - they had to contain the story within the frame; the best picture contained a whole war within one frame." They told the story from the unbiased perspective of a camera lens. And when she returns home, she finds that the people in the US, the people whose sons are being drafted, don't want to see the pictures. They would rather pretend it wasn't happening.

How long has it been since you've seen pictures or video from the wars in the middle east? Pictures of our men out in Afghanistan? Until we caught Osama, it had been too long since I'd seen a news reel from the war. Is it better not to see the pictures, the video, of the war efforts? Or should we immerse ourselves with the knowledge? I don't know the answer. I know that it is easier not to know. Not to see the truth. But when does shelter lead to ignorance?

Everyone has been through something that they've deemed to be tragic. Had a loved-one or a family pet die. At one point in the book the soldiers are discussing what they're going to do when they get out of the Army; take their first breath of free air. Helen, the main character, sat around and listened. "Helen didn't yet understand that conjuring up the future was the duty of the living, what they owed to the dead." - I thought this passage was so beautiful and eerily poetic. We owe the future to the dead.

I recently lost a friend to...well no one is really sure what we lost him to. himself I guess. We lost him to drugs, alcohol, addiction, mental anguish; a demon inside him. We lost him the day before my birthday. My good friend Rachel came over to take me out (among other friends) and told me, this is not a time to be sad. We're partying for Will because that is what he would want us to do (he was a big partier). So I took tequila shots and danced until the wee hours of the morning. I lived, for the dead. Maybe that is our duty; to turn the next page and enjoy the sunshine that is our lives.

The book is not the feel-good beach read of the summer. But it is also not depressing. Ms. Soli does a great job of making war like a drug: you just need one more hit. Helen and her fellow characters are addicted to war. And I'm addicted to this book.

I ain't makin' no damn list

The following are the traits I am looking for in a man. No negotiations allowed.

spontaneous

good listener

caring/kind (why is one with a K and one with a C? always wondered that)

tall

dark

handsome

no more sociopaths

Okay so it's not my real life "list" because I don't have one. My cousin Lisa famously (in our family) penned a list of over 30 attributes she was looking for in a man. And not only that, they were all non-negotiables. Lisa is happily married to a man with all 30 traits, sprung from page to life, and they have 4 beautiful children. 4. holy. mother. of. God.

My Mom and my aunts from the Wehmeyer clan think that Lisa is a genius for having made this list and sticking to it. The brain so does not get credit for that shit. I call her lucky.

I wouldn't really know where to begin, other than the boilerplate things we all want. Not only am I not certain enough to know what I want in a man to be able to make such a list, I'm way to lazy to sit down and actually do that! And then where would I house it?! I don't have a file folder entitled "man traits" sitting under my bed next to my copies of Nora Roberts romance novels.

The minute you put it into words, it all sounds so calculated. So cold. I'm more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-pants sort of girl (pretty woman reference). If you lined up all my old boyfriends the ONLY common theme would be their height. Not even the color of skin, hair, or eyes is the same. I guess you could say I'm an equal opportunist when it comes to men (unless you're under 6 feet tall).

I don't want to know what I'm looking for in a man! Because I don't know what I'm looking for in a man!

Don't get me wrong, I know that (a) these lists people make aren't about looks and (b) we all have a few common themes to the list (good listener, kind, gentle, good with kids and dogs, loves him momma, not a serial killer....) but I mean really?! I'm supposed to list these things? Like, will writing them down like really make them like come true?! ..........

Last night on the bachelorette Ashley asked Aimes what he was looking for in a woman. He replied that he doesn't have a list and that it is an "evolutionary step" not to have made said list. I'm not sure that this is a sure sign of evolution (lets not piss off the South here people) but I do agree with him that it isn't needed. I'm a believer that when I meet him, and it's right, I'll know it. "What I want in a man" is not a literary marvel by anyone's standards and I won't waste my time making one.

Okay. off my soap box.

Time to go pick out a company cell phone (!!!) and see a first draft of my new business cards (!!!!!!). I'm a big girl now!

reckless love

I've never been accused of being one of those people who is afraid of the L-O-V-E word. Granted I only say it to my girlfriends and have only said it with any real meaning and consistency to one man (boy)... but still. I love my friends, my parents, my brother, our dog Cooper, my new Louboutins. Recently I had someone tell me I'm an "I love you" whore. Which has got me thinking, am I too reckless with the word love?

It's like that movie Maid of Honor with Patrick Dempsey. He can tell everyone and everything on earth that he loves them but he can't say it to the person he truly is in love with. Therein lies the distinction for me: there is a difference between "I love you" and "I'm in love with you." The latter being much more heavy. I'm not in love with my girlfriends but I do love them. You never know what the day will bring you so it's important to express that love! I don't want to diminish the word and it's true meaning between two people in love, but I also don't want to be afraid to use it. Just like any good relationship, I can't imagine my life without my ladies. And calling them "lover" is just fun so if you think its weird that is just tough titty.

But what is love really? (I had to just erase the word actually for fear of using "love actually" and then having to go on a tangent about how much I LOVE that movie. It is love.) In my family, if you say you love something tangible my aunt Karrie will then go, "if you love it so much why don't you marry it?!" (Maturity is optional.) I'm beginning to subscribe to the very unromantic idea that the person you marry is more of a matter of timing than feeling. When you're ready for marriage, you'll marry the person you happen to be with at that time. If we played that related-terms game and someone said love, my association word would probably not be marriage. Not because they aren't associated. But because there is so much more to it than marriage. I think you're selling love short if you think straight to marriage.

I recently had lunch with an ex who is in town on leave. My favorite ex boyfriend. We were at a dive bar, eating tacos (me) and fish n' chips (him) talking easily and laughing frequently. He made a comment about how we happened at the wrong time in our lives. I couldn't agree more. We were both unhappy in our own ways and it ended because he decided to make a few poor choices and I decided to hold him accountable for said decisions. And really, if I'm being honest with myself, we were over before it ended...we just didn't know it yet. We're too alike. At lunch, talking about his current state of love, we starting discussing how we hate to talk about our feelings. I said to him, "that's one thing you and I did well...not talking about how we felt." His comment back to me was, "why discuss something you're feeling so strongly? Why does it need to be said?" Good question (idiot). Well, because people are dense and even if you're bursting with a feeling, the person with you may not catch on. We never said a word to each other about how we felt. Maybe that was the real reason it ended.

I love that we're still friends because at one time, I thought I did actually love him. For me, it's important to stay friends with my ex-boyfriends so that maybe one day, I can say "I love you" (the not in-love type) as a friend.

illegal activity

Life has been amazingly good to me as of late. I have a real legal tax-related job, a couple of crazy parents who have agreed to let me freeload in their basement, and cash on the horizon. Once I have my feet in my new Christian Louboutins I'll be set to die of happiness!

I have until July 5th to end my life in Seattle and start anew in Wenatchee. I never thought I'd see the day. But even as I type the words, I know it's right. Every time I'm back, I'm home. It is my home. For so long, too long, I've felt like my life was in a semi-permanent state. Like at any moment the wind could change and I blow me away again. Spokane felt like a prison sentence. Sometimes I see a glimpse of that person, the lonely girl I was there, and it makes me mad at myself for allowing it. The world is what you make of it and I made my world there a nightmare. I hated it. When, just as easily, I could have changed my own mind and embraced my time there. Sometimes I wish I were that nauseatingly happy person - everyone knows one. The one you want to hit in the month to stop them from spitting sunshine at you. But really, if I were like that, it would be a mask. I think that my internal being is naturally contemplative and that makes me, well, me. And I bet I have a few ex-boyfriends who can tell you: I'm not changing a bit of me. Because I like me this way...even if it is exhausting at times. And overly honest.

I had an old boss write me an email congratulating me on my new job - the new chapter of my life. He said that he was surprised that I didn't look for a job internationally. For the first time in a long time, it didn't even dawn on me that I would want to work overseas. And that used to be my one career goal. I was told once, in a little Buddhist village in North India, that travelers are really just escapists. We're all away because we're running. It was appalling to hear this and I immediately balked at this words. But he's right...to some extent. Whenever I'm the most unhappy, I dream of traveling. I dream of the sound of sand scrunching between my toes. I dream of a overstuffed backpacking travel bag and of not knowing where tomorrow will take me. Of me and Pete in a campervan down by the river, drinking wine and bullshitting about nothing. Because it's exciting! It's what I love to do! It's also an escape from life.

I'm happy here. I've met some amazing people in Seattle and some not-so amazing people. I've had my heart broke and I've probably reciprocated the feeling onto another. that's the funny thing about love and relationships, you never know how it's going to turn out. Right when you think you have the upper hand, you realize you're not even playing the same game. When it's right, neither person will be holding cards. Recently I met a really great guy and things were good. I was me with him. Which is a slight miracle. But I'm moving so I ended it. And now I'm left missing him. But from every heartbreak, from every down, there is an up! And baby, I'm flying.