Crack....

So I worked hard all weekend on a piece of writing, and sent it to Bobby.  And I worked harder than I would have for anyone else.  Yes, I still have a mild crush on Bobby.  Yes, his approval would mean more to me than Dotty's or my female friends.  And yes, I need to make damn sure I don't let that get worse.  But Nate and I are going out on Tuesday (unless he cancels again, but he has had good reasons for cancelling). I actually e-mailed Nate and said "Hey--I had a cancellation on Tuesday--if you want to see me before Christmas, it better be Tuesday," which isn't like me.  Normally, I wait around for the guy to make the first move.  That may be a mistake, but otherwise we aren't going to get together, and it isn't like I said "oh, I'll cancel any day for you..."  I was actually pretty assertive in a hard-to-get sort of way.  Well, not hard-to-get, but I'm-busy; you-better-make-me-a-priority sort of way..

Back to Bobby.  I had one guy I was fooling around with (this time last year, actually) who made my writing part of the kink, and it was great!  I just stopped procrastinating.  If I can use the emotional pull I still feel towards Bobby (which I know he thinks is foolish and I should get over it, and he is right, but I feel what I feel) to actually get the things done that I put off, well, that is worth a little emotional angst, I think.

Writing has become exceedingly lonely for me since I finished law school.  I loved the exchange of ideas.  I loved having people read my things who would always give me positive feedback. Often critical, but always some things were positive. Nowadays, I don't even get rejections.  I get nothing.

I wrote a piece I sent to This American Life that I thought was really good.  And the cost for sending that piece was several months of therapy with my parents, who originally saw it as a betrayal.  Eventually, I made some minor changes (like getting rid of any reference to having parents because evidently saying "My dad is a therapist" was a betrayal).  And my parents agreed that they would no longer assume I was the wrong one in any fight.  So clearly, it was worth it, but it was exhausting.  From This American Life I received nothing.  I didn't even get an automated "we received your submission; thank you."  Nothing.  Honestly, writing involves more rejection than dating. And it is, sometimes, a more personal rejection.  I think it will be really nice to have a supportive person who understands my world more.  None of my other friends are J.D.s  They are MDs and PHDs, but not JDs.  Bobby is a JD.  He understands both my professional and my personal world, to a certain extent.  So even if the ice cracks a bit, I think it is good.