In my defense, I didn’t start the day thinking anything was happening.  It all started when my aunts suggested I read Quarterlife Crisis: The Unique Challenges of Life in Your Twenties.  A request I initially scoffed at like “Psst, I’m not having a quarter life crisis.” After talking to my friend, it became ”I’m not having a quarter life crisis… am I?” But then I kept coming back to “I’m not having a quarter life crisis.” and the definitive “I’m just (grad school) broke.” But for twenty minutes, I had a mini quarter life crisis wondering if I was actually in the middle of an actual one and didn’t get it. I don’t feel like I’m going crazy.  This isn’t a crisis, this is life.

Anyway, my friend described her quarter life, which was acting crazy for her (and embarrassingly normal for me). The drinking, the partying, the ahem… yeah that’s what I normally call Summer Eva and that’s how I have spent most of the summers of my adult life. My friend described how her friends had to stage an intervention and how she was so angry because she didn’t think anything was wrong then, but now, she looks back and calls shenanigans. I commented that if I ever had a quarter life crisis it was right after college and I coped with it in all kinds of bad ways, but the worst was men. I did a fairly good job of concealing it (if you didn’t read my xanga, which most of my friends didn’t), so no one knew how out of control my behavior had become and no one staged an intervention to bring my back to myself, mainly because no one knew… or I guess even if they did, they didn’t think it was that out of character.  And now, I find people encourage that behavior because it’s fun.  But that’s a different post.

Then I talked to Jose, who very knowingly said something to the effect of “No you’re not having a quarter life crisis, stupid.  Now get to writing.”   This snapped be back to reality.  I realized (remembered?) that I wasn’t having a quarter life crisis just as easily as I had dismissed it earlier. I am not in a crisis, not even financially even though I complain about it all the time. It’s more that I’m at a crossroad. At this point in my academic career, I have so many options, it’s a little scary – but not crisis scary. More of an exciting-and-I’m-lucky-to-have-this-”problem” scary.  What my friends have started to call “first world problems.”

I’m guessing it’s because I have so many options that it looks like I’m out of control. There’s nothing wrong with options in my opinion. I know my boss and family would probably sleep easier if I would just commit to a path, but that’s never been my way. That doesn’t mean I’m in a crisis, it means I’m embracing an opportunity. I’m taking my time making a really important decision that has multiple right answers. I’m taking some pretty major risks, but I’ve always done that. Even when I’m acting crazy, I’ve always landed on my feet. Maybe I’ve tumbled a little upon hitting the ground, but I’ve always been able to dust myself off and get back up again. That’s what life is about.

e.

Now honestly, I’m not sure how I feel about this film.  On the one hand, I’m glad there is a film portraying how young women feel when their fathers aren’t around.  And I really like that he shows the fathers how they make their daughters feel and I’m hoping the filmmaker tries to connect the father and daughter in the end.  But what I do not like is a full minute of daughter’s crying, breaking completely down to get the point across.  I think it is crazy exploitiative to have a film full of children crying and asking why their father doesn’t love them.  And most, if not every, documentary of fatherlessness  that I’ve seen uses this.

I am not saying that it’s not painful and that children don’t feel this way.  I know they do because I used to feel that way.  But there’s a fine line between showing a painful experience and exploiting it.  I feel the same way about the documentary Dark Girls which only shows  the most hurt of all darker women and portrays this idea that all dark women feel ugly and less than.

For fatherlessness documentaries, I agree that is important to show that it hurts children.  I think it is also important to show that it doesn’t have to destroy them.  Growing up without a father does  not have to be a life sentence of pain, poverty or loneliness.  Even if you don’t have a surrogate father to give you what you think a father should have given or taught you does not mean that you can’t have or learn certain things.  Thus far in my interviews with adult women who have grown up without their fathers, there’s this profound sense of loss.  This feeling that fathers hold a secret to love and to life and that they will never learn them because their father wasn’t there.  And because they never learned it, they accept all kinds of grief in their lives because they believe they’ve missed out on some special gift, for lack of a better word, that only a father can give.

That’s not true.  And that’s what I see in this film and it makes me sad.  Yes, I think it is important.  I will most likely support it financially and tell people to watch it.  But I hope in the future, these types of documentaries will evolve and show that while it is painful, it is not the end of the world.  You can grow up fatherless and be successful and happy and feel loved.

e.

Of the 25 gifts or so, my favs were:

If you know me, you know I LOVE the Container Store.  Almost too much.  So when Oprah gave away this Elfa Closet system I just about lost it.  My roommate was dying.

Netflix for 5 years?! Son. That is freaking awesome.

I love that Oprah gave a way to give back.  Kiva allows you to donate money to fund loans for small businesses around the world.  This is pretty sweet also because Groupon (which I just recently came to love) will add $10 to your donation.

These sneakers look soo comfy. I totally want.  I will get them, and then I will start running again. (back to #operationfuturemilf).

Of course the diamond watch and cruise are dope too.

Part 2 of Oprah’s Favorite things airs today.  I cannot wait.

e.

peace,
e.

me: hey you remember when you asked me if i was gay in college?
bro: i didn’t ask you that.
me: yes you did. remember, you said you thought that when i was on you guys about being homophobic?
bro: i remember everything. i didn’t ask you that.
me: fine, you remember [insert ex girlfriend's name here]? (shows him a picture)
bro: yeah.
me: well she was my girlfriend for 2 years.
bro: every girl goes through a phase like that.

completely and utterly unclimatic. meh.  well at least i got that out the way.

peace,
e.

So I should keep working on my latest draft about father involvement and its effect on adult daughter sexual decision making, but instead I created another blog.  Yes another blog that I am pledging not to neglect.  Anyway, it’s the place where I want to house my creative endeavors, so without further ado, I present: domesticated e. nice.

This birthday feels like New Years, and I’ve got a few resolutions.  My main one is to write every day, mainly here.  I am going to try to revive SASSY again as well, that just goes along with my writing every day.  Basically, the only way I will improve as a writer, and feel more confidently about is, is to do it more.  So, tomorrow is day 1 of operation write every day.

wish me luck,
e.