Single in Saint Louis

In case anyone is interested, I found it interesting, here are the most commented on blogs on this site. Lawyer Stick People, Sept. 30, 2005 My Space Teen, June 30, 2006 Forget the UN, July 18, 2006 Heritage, May 22, 2006 Graduation, May 20, 2006 12 Honest Truths About Women, Dec. 15, 2005 Depression in the US, May 26, 2006 Catwoman, Nov.9, 2005 For Adrian, Whoever you are, May 25, 2006 In Defense of Men, June 29, 2008 Cell Phone or talking to oneself? Jan. 12, 2006 A Little Native Culture, Oct. 3, 2005 My Life as a TV Drama, Oct 2, 205 Law School Debt, Oct. 4, 2005 The Stormy Stormy Night, Nov. 6, 2005 Dollhouse, May 26, 2006

There is an entry coming from Friday night's extravaganza, but it isn't ready yet.  It is being edited.

It's just God and me at 3:00 am.  We're awake.

My stomach is queasy, and has been since around 9:00 last night.  About the time my friend from GC left from having a cup of tea and my next door neighbor went down to the creepy basement to get an extra bedframe that I have stored away.  About the time that ex showed up to give me the pictures of my Goddaughter's baptism and my swearing in ceremony.  Right before I realized that even now, months later, we cannot have a conversation without grating on each other's nerves on some level, and minutes before I knocked on next door neighbors door again to go back down to the creepy basement with me while I "got my laundry, which I hate doing in the creepy basement at night", which was actually a girl code for needing the presence of someone for a few minutes.  Then, I sat at my table and drank a cup of tea, randomly opened the Bible, and read a verse that had nothing to do with anything going on in my life at the moment.  I suppose that is because I wasn't looking for guidance, I was looking for  comfort.  When looking for comfort, it really doesn't matter what God says so long as it is something vaguely familiar. 

At bedtime I was sleepy, but I had this weird sensation in my left leg, it was twitching.  I noticed I was biting my bottom lip, a nervous habit of mine that has existed since I was probably two years old.  As tired as I was, I was physically too active to go to sleep.  I called Salsa Girl 3, the late nighter, who was driving home from a rather eventful weekend of her own life.  I preferred listening to her story over telling my own.  I eventually fell asleep.

I know why I woke up.  It was the dreams again.  The "ex" dreams.  Of course I was going to have them after seeing him, as briefly as it may have been.  Although I know while I am awake that everything is for the best.  My dreams twist and turn things and screw up my chi.  They make things that were, what they were not.  Things that are as they are not.  This is what dreams do by their very nature.  Without realizing that, they are very dangerous things indeed.  I had to wake up to regain some sense of reality. 

When I had been awake for about five minutes the headache started.  A sharp pain from the back center of my head to the front center.  First in a little streak, then a couple then my head feels hot, then my body feels hot, then my head just aches, then it starts getting worse and worse until the tunnel vision begins, I know the drill.  Not the first time this has happened.  I flip on the light only to feel the pain intensify, my eyes begin to hurt.  I put on sunglasses to walk to the bathroom knowing the bathroom light is going to cause an unbearable pain.  I grab some Migraten.   If I take it now, maybe I can get back to sleep tonight and sleep off the migraine before work tomorrow. 

I cannot read or anything so I just sit and think waiting for the meds to start working their magic.  Thinking proves dangerous too.  It is a to do list a mile long of things that need to be done.  Things that haven't been done, and things that should have been done a long time ago.  It doesn't help the headache.  I think of resentment.  I think of money, student loans, jobs, and many other stressful things.  Obviously, none help.  I try my best to think of anything in my life that is not stressful in its current state of affairs.  hmmm...nothing, but the fact that I don't have to worry about anyone but myself.  A small amount of solace.  Then I get a distinct thought that it would sure be nice to have someone take care of me from time to time.  Especially, in times like right now.  It would sure be nice to have someone do my dishes.  Dishes stress me out.

I aim for the more mundane.  I make a conscious decision to think through book titles of books I have read and one thing I liked about each book.  Luckily, that did the trick.  It was just mundane enough to calm me down.  I slowly start to drift back to sleep. 

Why have my last few dates been with men who generally do not understand wit, cannot spell, and have no real life goals?  I was starting to be concerned that I am just a magnet for this type.  Good thing I am not really out on the "market" looking for a serious relationship yet.  However, I was put at ease with a little research I did today. 

Back in the sixteenth century there was no such thing as love as it relates to marriage.  Marriage was a business deal.  It was all about movement up and down the social ladder, money, dowrys, and helping men secure high positions in the community.  There was no "love" in marriage.  The idea of "love" in marriage doesn't enter history until the protestant reformation.  This means that for centuries, "love" had nothing to do with anything.  "Passions" were left for Courtesans.  "Wives" were just partners in a business deal whose duty it was to produce and nurture heirs. 

The more I read about traditional marriage, the more I learned about the traditional "wife."

Traditional wives were inconsequential and desirably uneducated.  Yes, that is right.  It was best for women to be uneducated until the Protestant reformation and Renaissance, and even then, it seemed a wife was limited in her education.  You didn't want a wife to be smarter than her husband!  That would be atrocious.  The wives were often incredibly unhappy or led a completely separate life from their husband, they were kept uneducated about nearly everything in the world that didn't relate to child rearing or social circles.  There was no companionship in marriage.

The unmarriageable women were destined to a life as a courtesan.  As a courtesan they were well-educated.  If they were lucky they would be held in high regard, treated as a royal, and well-respected like Madame Pompadour.  If they were unlucky, they would end up as our current idea of prostitute.  It is like the difference between a geisha or misstress and a call girl.   Courtesans had great power, wives had no power.  I find this most interesting.  I think it is still reflected today in our societal interactions, rules of the workplace, and most of all the requirement to wear wretched pantyhose. 

The real reason for this, and the deep rooted association, is actually power.  As the common stereotype goes: Powerful is sexy.  Sexy is beautiful.  Beautiful is intelligent.  Intelligent is threatening.  Thus, many Courtesans died with their heads getting chopped off.  Many modern women hit glass ceilings. 

This leaves me perplexed.  There are more women hitting glass ceilings than there were courtesans.  Do wives stll exist?

It seems now days the majority of women would fall more into the category of Courtesan than wife.  The modern husband is now more like the "Don" of a Geisha.  A man dedicated to one woman by love and committed to support her (although she is capable of supporting herself) while she provides companionship for him.  Which says something huge for society.  We are going through a giant transition and are just nearing the end of it now, after thousands of years.  Women have become powerful.  Love is now a basis for marriage. 

All these things that were once set in separate circles of life are merged into one big constantly moving social circle.  Wives are called to be mistresses and mothers with still little help from men, no wonder they are worn out.  However, this idea of "love" keeps a woman and man together.  It is all very intriguing.  And men are starting to change, albeit slowly.  No longer is it expected that they stay in their "manly" world of business and cigars.  Men are sometimes choosing the housewife route too, and yielding business and cigars to women. 

This makes me think that all this quest for women's rights has actually gotten us somewhere.  A world that has not only opened the doors of men to women, but the doors of women to men.  Ultimately, that is what we were fighting for with all this women's rights stuff.  Societal progression has gotten us to a point where men are starting to equalize themselves with women. 

All that being said, this solves the burning question of why my last few dates have been with men who are generally uneducated and disinterested in being anything but whatever I want them to be.  Apparently, I am a poweful enough women, that those men want to be my "husband" defined as a traditional wife.  Only, I think I would much rather have a male courtesan as a companion. 

My alarm goes off at 7am. I roll over and hit it, wishing it was Saturday, that I didn't have to go to bed, that I didn't have to go to work, and really that I didn't have to move. I roll back over and bury my head in the pillows to keep the sunlight that is starting to sprinkle through my windows from waking me. I get 9 more minutes of blissful sleep. My alarm goes off it's 7:09 am. I roll over and hit it, grab my blackberry and immediately check my email. I am lured by the blinking red light. It taunts me. No real email, just about fifty from listserves and various other stuff I am signed up on. I return some emails that were sent last night. I am more awake now. I walk to the living room to get my laptop. I grab it and bring it back to my bed. I sit for the next fifteen minutes checking the news and reading the newest comments on the blog. Soon, I will get ready for work where I will spend my day sitting in front of a computer screen. I will most likely come home, have to work on my private practice and spend the evening sitting right here, in front of this computer. I will wake up and do the exact same thing tomorrow. Which makes me realize something...My entire day is spent with a computer and a blackberry. They follow me everywhere I go all day, every day. It is starting to get annoying and I can only wonder how much I would get done if I didn't have them following me all day. I pick up my laptop and take it into my office. Open it back up and check my schedule. Apparently, next Saturday I am free to not use technology, and I am going to not use it. We are so accessible these days to everyone in the entire world, all the time, that there is always someone there, something to do, and something to be read, seen, heard, experienced. I am starting to think the entire world might be on experience overload. The constant over stimulation of our everyday is starting to be reflected in our behaviors toward others. Our constant pressure to get somewhere quickly, so much so that we have raised the speed limits and feel it is necessary to cuss relentlessly at that car in front of us that is moving slowly because the large semi truck in front of them is moving slowly because a school bus is in front of him. We are so surrounded by people all the time, that we don't truly appreciate the people that surround us. I wonder what would happen if you gave a high school student these days a typewriter? If you slowed life down just enough that it was noticeable. If you were allowed one day a week and evenings of not being accessible to work.

There has never in my life been a time when I am more tired than I have been these last few weeks. I've been putting in 90 hours a week just to get by. But in the words of a good friend, "Such is the life of a solo attorney! Perhaps in a couple of years you can get down to 80 hour work weeks, but not any time soon." F