A Voicemail

There's only one time that I've ever truly felt like I've been madly in love with someone - to the point where I actually wanted to spend the rest of my life with that person. Lately, I've been a little ball of cynicism when it comes to relationships, and marriage because I've been spending the past year trying to stay out of a relationship. The reason that I've been avoiding meaningful contact with the opposite sex is because, quite frankly, my heart took a huge hit. There's a part of me that's still recovering.

When I was younger, I used to save birthday voicemails because I liked to play them over and over again. I would listen to my grandmother, grandfather, father, or mother sing to me, or say nice words to me over and over again because the sounds of their voices comforted me. That was always my fear - forgetting the sound of someone's voice. People's voices are so distinct that you can pick them out from a crowd if you happen to know the person.

Today, I was looking through all of my old voicemails and I found a voicemail from January 3, 2015. That was the day my entire life fell apart in front of my eyes. Like my birthday voicemails, I keep replaying the sound of a voice that hurt me so deeply, I will never look at love the same way again. The voicemail is him begging me: "Noreen please give me a phone call, please. Please? I'm sorry. I'm sorry about the whole mess. I can explain. Please? Please give me a call back."

There are a lot of words I could say to this particular person. Words of anger. Words of hate. I could tell him that when I looked into his eyes, I saw everything I ever loved about the world. I could tell him that the sound of his voice used to make my day day better. The sound of his car pulling into the driveway made my eyes bright, and my whole heart glow because I knew he would walk through the door in a matter of seconds. I remember I used to wait for him to walk in so that I could give him a kiss, and tell him about my day. I remember falling asleep with my hand in his hand. I could tell him that in one moment, he destroyed my entire view of love, and trust. I could tell him that finding emails he sent to random women with his penis made me sick. I could tell him how demeaning it was to see him call other women the pet name he used for me. I could tell him that ever time I think of him, all I feel is disgust. I could tell him I pity that he was so insecure about himself that he killed a relationship with a woman that truly loved him for all his bad (and there was a lot), and all his good.

I have a horrible case of T.M.D. Temporomandibular Joint Disorder and it is making my jaw hurt to think of him. That voice. that voicemail. So, I'm going to move forward…

Of all the words I could say to this person, there's only one that comes to mind: Thank you.

I was afraid to take risks because I was afraid. Now, I live in the moment. I learned to enjoy my own company. I learned to be responsible. Why? Because I didn't want to be that girl whose whole life could be destroyed over a voicemail, over an email, over you.

Now, I wake up every morning happy about my life, grateful for my career, and persevering. I'm dedicated to my work because I know that it's my hard work and dedication that made me get to where I am today. I learned to love myself.

My hair is a little shorter, I'm a lot blonder, I wear a little more make-up, I take more time on choosing outfits. I do it all for me. When I look in the mirror, I see a woman with goals. I see a woman who wants to help others because she believes in giving back to the community. I see a person that wants to change the world, one person at a time, and give them hope.

Now, when I look in the mirror my heart glows because I see a person that has accomplished so much at a young age. I am embarking on a new journey soon: home ownership, and I owe it all to you. Because had you not thrown me down into the gutter, I would't have learned to preserver. I wouldn't have learned to pick myself up, dust off the dirt, and leave it in the steps behind me.

But, mostly thank you to myself. I'm going somewhere in life and it's thanks to the supporters I have, the friends I've made, and my own perseverance. I'm not perfect, but I'll spend every day of my life doing what I can to help other people, and grow my career so that when I look in the mirror, I see a woman of whom I am proud. Hopefully, my parents, family, and friends will also see a woman of whom they can be proud.

The Ones We Love

What's Disney Got To do With It?

I've noticed that I always seem to write about love, love, and love. Isn't that what Disney movies taught us life is about? I'm only joking, but last night my friends and I went out to celebrate one of them becoming an attorney. After leaving the bar with our designated driver (of course!), I started singing along to Disney songs with my friend Ariel. Her name is Arial because on a recent trip to Disneyland, she wore a little mermaid themed outfit. Disney songs just have a way of making you happy. They can't help it with their wholesome-goodness. But, what is it about Disney that makes us feel this way?

Where is the love?

Love comes from different places. Love can come from your parents, your little brother, your favorite cousin, or your closest friends. And sometimes, love truly is what can change your life. But, where does all this love stem from?

Love Can Make a Difference

The other day, I was scrambling through my purse to find a $20 to pay for gas. It reminded me of when I was a broke law student. Mind you I had a $100 bill in my wallet, but didn't want to break it. It made me go back to a time when I was a hopeless mess.

Only a few years ago, things were different. When I was in college, I made the choice not to rely on my parents because they had already done so much for me. I felt wrong taking from the people that basically gave me everything I wanted as a child. In college, I had three jobs, and was supporting two people at $10 an hour. I saved and saved. After my account was wiped out, and my hard earned money stolen from a certain terrible person... I remember crying as I ran on the treadmill at 3am thinking I would never get out of the rut. The bills were piling up from the stolen credit card, I wasn't sure what to do with my life. I started to fall back into a place I never thought I'd be again, and hadn't been in since I was 16 years old.

I was broke, and didn't think I would ever make it through life. I felt dejected, rejected and completely hopeless. I was struggling with law school; things were just not going my way.

I remember my mom waking up, and finding me. I cried and cried to her, telling her I didn't know what I was doing with my life. I didn't think I would make it as a lawyer, and I couldn't even pay a $120 bill that came in the mail because I was so broke. She forced me to take $500 from her and told me not to worry... "One day you'll be making so much money, you're going to laugh at this day." She told me my dad and she would always be there to catch me when I fall. The next day, my dad handed me $1,000 and told me he was going to help me with my career. Now, that's a distant thought... But I felt a moment of gratitude towards my parents. Though my parent's actions were small, they were monumental in my life.

True love is the love that lasts. Sometimes, all it takes is a hug or a smile from the ones we love to change your life around. The love my parent's have for me taught me that you should be grateful for the people that love you. You should also protect, and help the people you love.

Team Palo

Recently, I've been hanging out with a group of amazing friends. We are all young professionals that spend our days working, and our nights together eating dinner or watching movies. The older you get, the more you realize who your true friends are, and who is there to climb the social totem pole.

The group I hang out with came together in a strange force of fate. Most of us are part of a Bar Association, but we all have known each other through different ways. Though, I will say that you guys need to stop with your annoying group texts!! (Just Kidding.)

Our first formal group outing was at a Softball Tournament, three of us had the idea of forming a team. We called everyone we knew, who called everyone they knew, and Team Palo was formed. Our team captain, Arial, was a tough cookie. She put us into shape, and encouraged us. Unfortunately, I think we frustrated her because the majority of the time we were staying "hydrated" (with alcohol.) Needless to say, due to our intoxicated state many of us were tumbling over our feet, and staring off into space. Team Palo lost the tournament, but out of every team that day we had the most fun because we didn't take ourselves so seriously. We were there for the purpose: to bond and have fun. While other teams were set on beating others, we formed a family.

Letting Go

I've had the misfortune of recently discovering one of my "friends" is the type of person that only has friendships that will benefit them and make them look like a good person. We had had problems in the past, but I was always quick to forgive this person for their malicious behavior. I just can't believe that people would purposefully do things to be manipulative and hurtful. I am wrong, and it's a reality I'm still struggling to face. This particular person in the past would purposefully push me out of conversations, turn their back to me in groups of friends to exclude me, make comments to me about wanting to steal my friends, and always talk down to me. As I became a stronger person, and a more confident person, I thought that perhaps they didn't know any better. Unfortunately, recently this person began with the same manipulative actions, and I realized that some people aren't worth loving or having in your life. Because ultimately, the ones we love wouldn't purposefully hurt us or keep trying to make you feel down.

While there are moments in your life you should try to rekindle relationships and make the best of situations, there are other times when enough is enough. As the great quote goes, "fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me." I don't want to know what comes after a third time. Which is why when it comes to the ones we love, we need to learn to let go when they aren't good for us. And we need to move forward in life. Thanks to Team Palo, I've been able to overcome struggles, and the disappointment of losing people I thought were my friends. I've found true friends. I would have never imagined I would find Team Palo. We see each other on weekends, we help each other with our professional endeavors and more importantly, we love each other like family.

Love Comes From You

I think it's important we all take time to reach out to the ones we love. One word, one moment can make a difference. Every moment, every action we take can make the difference. A mother's love, a father's love, a friend's love, a significant other's love can define us. But, ultimately, the love that should define us is the love we have for ourselves.

In developing a relationship with my friends "Team Palo," as we like to call ourselves, I've discovered how to love myself. When I was younger, maybe even a few years ago, I would shy away at going to a movie theater by myself. I would feel uncomfortable if I was alone. I was constantly seeking the approval of others. Now, I like my alone time because I get to play video games. I've learned that the only approval I need, is my own. Besides, it's not like I listen to other people's advise anyway (just kidding, Jessie).

When you learn to love yourself, the world becomes a better place. Like when Elsa discovered love (for herself and her sister), in my favorite new Disney movie Frozen, she learned to let it go, and be her own person. My ultimate message is that in order to love others, we need to learn to love ourselves. Why? Because love comes from you.

Love Can Wait

Three Heartbreak Rule
When I was younger, my dad always told me that it takes three heartbreaks before you find the person you want to spend with the rest of your life. I'm pretty sure I've surpassed those three heartbreaks! But, maybe I haven't.....

Heartbreak

The worst part about heartbreak, from a rational point of view, is that we always seem to want to hurt the other person. We spout out lies, and condemning comments just to make the other person feel pain. Spite. Everything you do during your heartbreak determines whether or not you can come back to that person in the future one day. Everything you say determines whether you two will have bitterness towards each other, or look back at each other fondly. Ain't nobody got time for bitterness.

Recently, I was able to forgive the Pig. It wasn't for him, but for me. I was clinging on to a bitterness that was not worth it. Does that change the fact that he's quite possibly the worst person that's ever walked on the face of this planet? Not one bit. However, in my own life, I needed to move forward and let go of the bitterness. That person is not someone I will ever see again, and I am fine with that. Some love is not meant to last forever.

Types of Heartbreak

Realizing I didn't love pig anymore made me realize there are different types of love and heartbreak. There's the love that is unconditional (family), love that lasts forever (the love of your life), and love that's just meant to be a guide to your future loves (the ones along the road).

I remember the first time I felt heartbroken, it filled me with an immeasurable amount of pain. I was on the floor immobilized for days because I had never felt that sort of pain. Okay, maybe not actually on the floor. But, it was earth-shattering. I remember people telling me I would get over it, and I refused too believe it! Well, I realized we get over break-up after a while. We just need to realize that if someone looked into our eyes and told us we weren't good enough, it is a reflection of how terrible they are for you. It's nothing to do with you as a person, but rather how wrong that person is for you.

There is the heartbreak that's really just a chip off your shoulder because in the grand scheme of things, you two weren't meant to be anyway. I also remember when I felt that type of heartbreak. The first few hours... Okay, day, I was completely distraught. I kept thinking to myself, "why did I let him go!" After a while, I realized that he wasn't someone with whom I really wanted to have a long-term relationship. It was a nice summer fling, but we didn't offer anything to each other that would contribute to our personal growth. He was just a frog, so to speak.

There's the kind that hurts in a different, deeper way because you know that if circumstances were different this love could be the best love. It's known as the love that got away.

Mr. Cool

The reason I say that what you do during a break up determine whether you will have a future with someone is because upon reflecting on the decisions I've made with my last break up, I'm noticing how spiteful people become when they're breaking up. I looked into the eyes of a person I loved and told him I never cared about him. My exact words were, "I just used you to get over my first boyfriend." However, that is far from the truth.

The first time I met Mr. Cool was at a family friend's home. I still remember walking into a Super Bowl Party and seeing him stare at me from across the room. I smiled shyly because, apparently, it's the only thing I know how to do when someone is staring at me. He walked over to me and made conversation about chocolates in the shapes of footballs. What ensued the following three years was a bit of an anomaly to me because I never thought he'd end up being so significant in my life.

Mr. Cool would come over to parties I hosted, or just to visit me. On one particular night, I tried to lean in for a kiss because I realized I had developed a crush on him. Mr. Cool quickly ran out like someone had started a fire. Rejection. After that, any time he text me I would string him along and casually make conversation. He was always in the back of my mind, but focusing on my school - and dating frogs - made him a distant memory.

One fateful February night, I started chatting with him on Facebook. I remembered why I had liked him so much: he could make me laugh. I told him I had been laying low for a while, and had deleted my Facebook for almost a year. "A lawyer laying low, that sounds suspicious to me," he said.
A few days later, he called me, "Hey, what are you doing?"

"Working...."

"Me too... I get out in 20 minutes."

I stared blankly at my computer screen. In reality, I was watching Netflix. But, who really wants to say that?! "Me too...."

"Cool, meet at your house?"

I was confused. We had never discussed the possibility of hanging out, or even going on a date. "Uhm... sure...."

"Cool. See you then."

That night we had our first kiss. He later confessed to me that our attempted kiss two years ago had left a mark in his mind. He had never been quite able to let me go.

The One That Got Away

Needless to say, we developed a great friendship, and began dating shortly after that night. Our first official date, he was so afraid to put his arm around me. I was afraid to try to hold his hand because I wasn't sure if he felt the same way about me. That's the funny thing about dating, two people could give each other all the signs that they want something and still be unsure as to where it's going. We would often sit together, my head on his chest as he played with my hair, and talk about our plans in life.

Recently, he joined the military, which makes me proud. On our first "date," he had told me about how he had wanted to join since he was in elementary school. The passion he had about learning different languages, and diving into waters or coming up with strategies was a passion I used to have when I'd talk about becoming a lawyer. Sometimes, we forget why we choose a certain path in life, but he reminded me why I love doing what I do.

He came home one day and told me he would have to leave for two years. I told him I wasn't sure if I could wait for him that long. The next few days our spite and hate ensued. We said things to hurt each other. I posted Facebook posts, that in retrospect were quite immature on my part. I threw out all his belongings. In the end, we tried to stay together because we talked it out. We love each other, and it's worth trying. A few days ago, he came to me and told me he couldn't do it. Mind you, this is after telling me he was going to keep in contact with me, and had made all these plans, made me believe he was worth the wait!! Jerk, right? That's probably what you're thinking....

Letting Love Grow

In the grand scheme of things, he isn't a jerk. It's not fair for me to constantly be worried about his safety, and for him to be worried about me. It would effect his ability to work because he'd constantly be thinking about me, and making emotional decisions instead of rational decisions. I would be stuck in my own life worrying, and not moving forward in my career. It's just not meant to be right now. I'm twenty-six, ain't nobody got time to be waiting around! I have a lot of mistakes I haven't made yet!!

It reminds me of that Jason Mraz song, "I Won't Give Up." He says:

And in the end, you're still my friend at least we did intend For us to work we didn't break, we didn't burn We had to learn how to bend without the world caving in I had to learn what I've got, and what I'm not, and who I am.

At first, I thought the song was about a man staying in a relationship with the person he loves. I realize now, it's a song about fate. It's about not giving up love for a person, but letting them go on their own path until both of you are ready. Some love is meant to last forever. You can love someone deeply and dearly, but realize that in the grand scheme of things, it's better to go on different paths in life. If you love someone enough, then you can let them go. Not literally let them go - as in giving up on love. It's word choice, really. Words can hurt more than feelings, so what I think people really mean when they say they want you to let go is: if you love someone, you can let them go on their own path and grow into the person they have the potential to be.

Love Can Wait

Break ups are inevitable, but so is love. I am a hopeless romantic, and truly believe in fate. If it is meant to be, then one day two people can find each other again if that love is meant to be forever physically. To quote Katy Perry: in another life, I would be your girl; we'd keep all our promises, be us against the world. One day, maybe.

To quote another song; Somewhere out there If love can see us through Then we'll be together Somewhere out there out where dreams come true.

However, as of now, there is a world out there waiting to be explored. There's something better for me: a budding legal career; obtaining a position on the Board of a legal association; volunteering with my HS Bestie on medical missions; Prepping to be a Godmother for one of my best friend's baby; finally running that half-marathon I always talk about; making more friends; the possibilities are endless. Either way, I am twenty-six years old and have an amazing career ahead of me. Love can wait.

Life Choices.

The other day my mother and I were sitting in the kitchen having a conversation. She asked me how one of my friend's abode was looking, because my friend recently moved in to her own place.

"You know... I never thought that I would have an urge to clean."

My mom couldn't stop laughing.

For those of you that know me, friends, family, people I used to live with, boys I used to date, I am one of the messiest girls in the world. By no means am I dirty - I would never leave my sheets unwashed passed their 2 weeks - but sometimes, you might find clothes, books, papers and a number of annoying items on my floor. In fact, I remember one boy I dated when I was twenty-one would jump in the back seat of my car, not to wait for me, but to clean my car. He would look at me and say, "why do you do this? why?" I used to call him tiger and he used to call me choo choo. We're not friends, but we do call each other every blue moon to see how the other is doing. He's happy with his child and wife and white picket fence. But, he always tells me how proud he is and how I deserve the best in the world because I'm smart and beautiful (I like to throw in compliments I've received in life when I'm feeling down about the bar exam).

Flashback

I was sitting in my car outside Tiger's house. We were debating whether we should try to sneak into a bar, because we weren't quite able to make it in to one yet, or whether we should go inside and watch movies. Tiger kept looking around my car, rolling his eyes. I was laughing because I thought it was funny he couldn't stand the papers and clothes in my car.

"Seriously, Nor. How do you get all this in here?"

"I don't have time to clean! I'm in college."

"But, you have time to drink..."

"Priorities."

We opted for sitting in the car, chatting. Tiger was making fun of me for some dumb-fuck comment I made, as I often make silly comments. Chicka likes to say that it is because I spend all my common sense on being smart. "You're so slow, Nor." Tiger was saying.

"No! I am not slow! I'm fast!"

"You're fast?"

"Yes! Fast like a traaaaaaaaain!!!!"

Tiger laughed for a couple minutes. "You're a chooo choooooo."

"Shut the fuck up."

"Chooo choooo."

"I hate you."

And thus, I became known as choo choo train. He was always Tiger because he used to do this little growl when he was bored. The summer of my twenty-first year was one of the best summers of my life. I was constantly focused on my well-being and always surrounded by great company. I think every day should be like that. In fact, I'm making sure of it now.

The All Nighter

I am currently awake at 5:00 a.m. in the morning, which is quite a feat for me. That's not entirely true - sometimes, when I can force myself to wake up this early I will go to bootcamp. You see, on Thursday I had this massive amount of Discovery due. In lawyer-talk, Discovery is this monstrosity of paperwork plaintiff attorney's hate and defense attorney's love. When you get in a car accident because someone hit you, your lawyer has to deal with you, the other person's insurance company and literally, hundreds of papers. Papa always says it's because defense attorneys (the lawyer's for the insurance company) get paid by the hour, so they love to generate work. The bad part? It means that newbies like me have to sit in front of a computer while trying to finish a motion and eighty pages of discovery.

Granted, while all this was going on one of my best friends, Sammy, was sitting with my mother finishing her invitation for her baby shower.

I even invited two of my other friends over so that we could all sit together. I've heard from someone very important in my life that there are five love languages. She informed me that I should explore my own and, I've discovered, I like quality time. Yes, I have a therapist. It's to keep me in-tune when I'm stressed out. For example, having a panic attack in the middle of the road because you've realized the bar exam is 14 days away is probably not a good thing.

So, we sat in my kitchen having a grand old time, when I realized how lucky I've been in life.

I went to sleep last night at 8:30pm because I spent the day finishing my motion, driving to court to file my motion, driving a client home and eating dinner with Sammy. Sammy is one of the people that's been there for me through it all. She's gone to every single graduation I've had: High School, College, Law School. I wouldn't trade her for the world.

Lately, I've been spending quiet evenings at home with people. My good friend who has no nickname yet, but I'm going to call her Tapatio because she convinced me to eat a bag with her the other day, and I spend Halloween night watching Hannibal.

We were also eating cheese and crackers because I have a slight obsession with cheese and crackers.

Life Choices

This morning I woke up to a slew of text messages. But, one in particular got me thinking...

When people pursue an education, they put other things on the boiler plate. My friend who text me last night is a great guy who has traveled the world - he puts me to shame - and has his priorities set. Lately, he's been studying for his CPA exams.

It's what many people with long-term career goals have done. We put our education first and figure everything else will follow through - and I love it!

I may not have been out partying and drinking last night, but I just helped a person from mistreatment by law enforcement (not to say that there aren't people who actually deserve to be punished.) There's the right way of law and a wrong way. Impinging on a person's rights is the WRONG way. I'd rather have spent Friday morning at 4 am finishing a motion to dismiss my client's case, leading to my early 8am night on Friday, then drinking the night away!!

This doesn't mean that when people have kids young they're going to fail. I look at my friend Sammy and am so proud to have her in my life. She is a smart girl, who happened to have a child at a young age. She and her fiancé are having a cute little girl soon - thus the baby shower. But, she works hard for herself and her children. I've seen this woman go through school while being one of the youngest supervisors at her job. She's absolutely organized and she manages to stay fashionable, even with her baby bump.

This doesn't mean people who don't go to college fail. My cousin Chicka is a very intelligent girl, though she will deny it. However, her dream is to be a comedian and she has been doing an amazing job. In fact, she has shows all over the place. I know, right? A female comedian who is actually funny?! She is wise beyond her years. I often, as you know, seek advise from her. Chicka is my role model. She has a chiq town house in Hollywood and I'm always jealous of her Miami vacations. Plus, she has a great tan.
My other cousin, Mo, is also a successful young woman whom didn't graduate from college. She and her husband have the cutest place in Diamond Bar - I'm starting to get jealous because I still live at home with my parents. She's healthy, happy and beautiful. This woman literally runs all BLANKS (I'm keeping her work life private) in Southern California. All I can say is that she's financial negotiator who wheels and deals for her clients.

I suppose what I've come to realize is that there are two classes of people: classy people and trashy people. The classy people are the ones who will succeed in life no matter what they do because they are driven, have goals and make smart choices. The trashy people are the ones that wander through life in a sea of confusion because they'd rather choose drugs, crime or choose a man over their children/self-dignity/education. They make excuses because things are too "hard." Excuses like, "we can't all have money like you," "we all aren't as smart as you," "we all can't win scholarships like you," "I know she's with him, but she totally wants me" or "I know he loves me even though he keeps saying he loves another girl."

Being educated is a choice. Choosing your self-dignity is a choice. Giving someone else power over you is a choice. Giving yourself the power to do what you want and need is a choice. Choosing one path over another is a choice. I have close friends who have struggled! Two in particular that I can think of that grew up in high-risk areas went to college with me, not because they're Mexican and it was handed to them, but because they deserved it. These two people worked their asses off because they knew that an education would give them more paths to take. It's what my dad has taught me my whole life (education is the key to success.) One of my friends is a top-notch college counselor and the other is pursing her masters in education after spending two amazing years teaching in Korea.

Smart choices.

I put my education first, and I wouldn't give it up for the world. We'll see in two weeks if it paid off.

Food Truck Mania

Lately, I've been having nightmares about the bar exam results. It's been a slew of restless nights for me. Although, my brother gave me some great advice yesterday and told me that I should just be happy I'm alive. The elitist bitch that lives inside me translated that into "thank the lord I am not a stereotype!" This is one Latina that graduated with a high school diploma (not a GED, thank you very much!), obtained a bachelors of art from an awesome school (chirp!) and even managed to find her way to a juris doctorate. Pat myself on the back on that one.

These are the things that run through my head when I start to get nervous about the results. But, I also think about my former boss who, whilst standing in line to get into the airport, told me, "don't listen to your dad, I didn't pass the first time and look at me now." He's right. He's on his way to being a head deputy district attorney or even a judge! So, it'd be nice to pass on the first time. However, I've decided not to let it devastate me if I do not.

I went to lunch with an old friend on Monday, October 29, 2012. I was telling her stories about my life. That, coupled with my food truck mania night with my brother led me to the realization that I really do need to start blogging my experiences.

Random Night Story I Told Old Friend

There was this person in my life that I found to be quite an awesome influence. He will remain nameless because I really do believe he would kick me if he knew I told this story. Aside from the fact that he has a similar story of mine that I never want him to tell and never want to hear!

I was lying in bed one night after a day of procrastinating with Boo Boo Bear. Aside from the fact that it was getting closer to the time I had to start studying for the bar, I was also nervous because my final exam was four to five days away and I hadn't even opened the book.

Quack! Quack! Quack!

I turned towards my iPhone with its annoying ring tone. "Hello?"

"Hello beautiful person! You have such a beautiful faaaaaace. Where are yooou?"

"I'm pretty sure I am in bed, trying to sleep."

"I miss you! I want to see you!"

"So, come see me."

"I'm so drunk.... Aaah! But I want to see you."

It was a Saturday night. I figured, What the hell? It's not like my final is tomorrow. "I can pick you up...."

"You would do that for me?! You're awesome."

"I know."

Anonymous was trying to send me a text message of the address. But, I theorize that he was in such an inebriated state that the only thing I was getting was a bunch of numbers and an attempt at an address. Finally, an address after five minutes. I was about ready to give up on the kid. As I drove down towards the party he was attending I thought to myself, Shit, I really like this kid if I'm willing to pick him up from a party. I wonder if I look pretty.

I got to the house and it looked like a shit show. There were people standing outside and cars everywhere. There was a kid throwing up on the sidewalk. I remembered thinking, "Please don't be anonymous." As I called anonymous, he excitedly answered the phone, "I'm by the sidewalk!" (Don't worry! He wasn't the throw up kid!)

I pulled close to the house and this girl looked into my car. She looked extremely angry and started coming towards my car. Then, she banged her hand on my passenger window. Rude. I made a U-Turn and there he was, smiling and stumbling to my car. God, even when he's drunk he looks absolutely gorgeous.

"Heeeey!!!"

"Who's that blonde chick?"

"Just some girl. Some girl. I think she likes me. I don't know. Never mind." He slurred.

"She looks pissed."

"Because I called you. I think she has a thing for me, but I just really wanted to be with you, Nor."

"That's sweet." I said, sarcastically.

"You're not being very affectionate."

"I've been sitting outside a random house for ten minutes waiting for you."

"I really like you."

I turned to him, he had a smile on his face. Might I mention this man is absolutely beautiful? I remembered the first time I met him, I thought there was no way he could like me. This guy is six feet tall, has beautiful tan skin, big brown eyes and such defined features. Though, the thing that really gets to me is his smile. His smile is so infectious you can't help but smile. I'm pretty sure any girl that walks by him would fall for him.

I smiled back at him and touched his cheek. "I forgive you."

"Yooou like me." He taunted.

"Whatever, you like me too. You're in my car." I said, slightly annoyed.

We drove to my driveway and I sat there. We started talking, he was telling me about his day. I told him about my day. Then he put his head on the car seat and stared at me....

He looked embarrassed... "Noreen, I REALLY like you."

"You said that." I said in a matter-of-fact tone (Argh! I was such a tool with him!)

He hid his face in his hand. "No, you don't get it. You're not like anyone else. I really really like you....a lot."

I turned to him, scared. I felt uncomfortable because we had only been dating for two months. I knew that I liked him, but I didn't want to be heartbroken - especially because our time was limited and I was going to start studying for the bar exam. "I like you too, anonymous."

"But, I really really like you. Like, I call you by your name at work. The guys make fun of me.... I like you..." He pouted. God, I love when he pouts, I thought to myself.

"You're silly."

"Noreen, I like you so much. Like, damn. I like you a lot. I don't think you get it. I really don't think you understand what I feel."

I laughed a little. "I think I kind of like you." (It was this thing we used to do. We'd tell each other we "kind of" like each other. But, in reality, I liked this kid probably as much as he liked me.)

He smiled, "I kind of like you too, maybe."

"Good. I'm glad we're on the same page."

Dating Pet Peeve Story I told My Brother

About a month ago, I received a text from an old acquaintance asking me if he could take me out on a date. I, of course, accepted because he is quite an attractive human being. I've come to the realization that it doesn't matter how attractive a person can be, men tend to make the same dating faux-pas.

There we were having a lovely time at a bar. As usual, I was being the typical girl and barely touching my celery sticks. My eyes were done up - all mascaraed out. (By the way, if you haven't done so - every female should own Benefit's "They're Real.") He looked at me and said, "Nor, can I ask you a hypothetical question?"

I quizzically turned to him, "I think so."

He looked at me, nervous smile in hand: "What would you do if I told you that your eyes are beautiful and you're one of the most gorgeous women I've ever seen?"

I smiled. "I would say thank you."

"And, what would you say if I told you I really want to kiss you?"

I looked at him, annoyed. The thoughts running through my head, if only you could hear them! What the fuck? Doesn't this kid know you're not supposed to ask for a kiss?! What am I? In high school. "I would say, no."

The look of rejection ensued, "well, it was just a hypothetical question."

"Next time, just kiss me."

"Like right now?"

"Are you kidding me?! Don't you know you're not supposed to ask for a kiss!! Absolutely not. No."

Food Truck Mania

Every Tuesday night Santa Monica holds a food truck lot on Main Street. I absolutely love the idea of food that travels. I stood on the sidewalk waiting for my brother, angry. I was on the phone with a friend from high school whom is living in Florida. She will be called, Florida. I was explaining to Florida how annoyed I was because my brother typically cancelled on my due to my inability to get out of work early. On this particular night, I had told my boss I could not stay late. I was sad because I had really wanted to practice direct examination questions I had written for a case. One of my favorite things to do is direct and cross-examination questions - I can't wait to have a jury trial!.

"Seriously, Florida. This kid bitched at me because I told him I'd be an hour late. We were supposed to meet at 6:30, then he changed it to 7:00. It is now 7:15. I will never let him live this one down!"

Finally, my little brother sauntered into the parking lot. I walked over to him. We started searching through the food trucks. Several of his friends walked up to us and began explaining to me how amazing the company is that they work for.

"What company is this?" I said.

"How long have you been working with us?" Tav's co-worker joked with him.

"My sister never listens to anything I say."

"That's not true! I know you work in Santa Monica!" I said to him laughing.

His co-worker had me download the application that they work for. It's this awesome application that allows you to pay for food trucks using the application. If you scan other people's applications (basically showing that you rallied the troups to the food trucks) you get a dollar a scan. You also get extra perks when you sign up a first time person. I obtained $19 whole Kuapay dollars!

Tavs and I decided we would take a food truck tour and I graciously offered to pay with my new-found cash.

The first food truck we visited was "Cairo Cowboy." We ordered this AMAZING french fry order with Tzatziki sauce. I swear I melted right in the middle of the parking lot. We were welcomed with a giant stack of french fries covered in chicken, tzatziki sauce, tomatoes and steamy goodness.

"I need ketchup!" I yelled

"Nor, have you looked a this thing?"

"Have you met me?! I love ketchup!" (Boo Boo Bear once told me I am so obsessed with ketchup, she's afraid to take packets when we eat together.)

"Stop eating! I need to take a picture."

"You're barely eating anything. Stop intagramming things."

"I need to record this moment!"

After we finished our french fries, we wandered around trying to figure out which spot to visit next. Both my brother and I are fans of slider, so we started our way towards Slammin' Sliders. I am a big fan of kobe beef, so this place was perfect. It was cute hearing my brother explain to the cashier how to use the program that he designed. Proud big sister moment. (On a side note, one of Tavs' co-workers said I look younger than my brother. Yippee! I don't look 25.) We bit into our giant onion ring burgers and they crunched and mingled in our mouths. I loved them.

After our burger adventure, we wandered to My Delight Cupcakery. The cupcakes danced around in front of us, taunting us. Each one begging to be picked. But, oh no cupcakes, I hate chocolate cake! I explained to the cashier that I hate chocolate cake, but I like real chocolate. He started explaining all the cupcake goodness standing in front of me. There was Almond Joy, which was a delicious little white cake dipped in something that had to do with almonds (I'm such a good listener.) Really though, I couldn't pay attention to anything he was saying because I was mesmerized by the Peanut Butter Cup Cupcake that was standing in front of me. "I love peanut butter, what's that one?"

"This is a peanut butter cupcake with a peanut butter based frosting dipped in chocolate. There's also a surprise inside."

"I'll take it!"

Tavs looked around and finally decided on a carrot cake. I stared into the window in awe when my eyes fell upon a cupcake called the Breakfast cupcake. "Oh my gosh! I've totally heard of those, brother! I've always wanted to try one! Aaah!"

The cashier must have heard me because he turned to us and asked if we had ever tried the Breakfast Cupcake. Apparently, it's one of their most known cupcakes. I told him I had not, but have heard great things. After all, anything with maple syrup, bacon and buttermilk has to be absolute heaven. He tossed one in for us.

"I think the guy thought you were cute." Tavs said, as we walked away and I showered the cashier with a million thank yous.

"Why....?" I said.

"We just got a Breakfast Cupcake. Either that or he is gay and thought I was cute."

"It was totally me."

Tavs and I ran into his coworker again. "What did you two get!" We showed her our cupcakes and opened up our box. I explained to her that I hate chocolate cake. "Me too!" Tavs exclaimed. "Really?! I never knew that!"

Tavs co-worker started laughing. "Maybe I should just talk more so you two can get to know each other more!"

Worst brother and sister ever.

Needless to say, the cupcakes were amazing. The peanut butter cupcake did not disappoint. In fact, it was a fluffy little ball of joy as I sunk my teeth into a peanut butter cup center. The surprise was the Breakfast cup. At first bite, you can taste the buttermilk cupcake, but as you start to chew the ingredients really come together. Boom! Maple Syrup. Boom! Bacon.

Our food truck mania was a good night.

Spiders in the Bed and Boo Boo Bear

I am convinced that my bed is inhabited by a tiny, little, laughing spider that creeps up on me when I am asleep. It makes me hope those rumors are true that people eat 5 spiders in their lives without knowing it because it occurs in their sleep. In fact, I want to pretend I'm sleeping and jump the spider - and eat him! Often times, I wake up in the morning only to find two or three new bite on my legs. That's what I never understand about bug bites: they never appear near your face or arms.

I wouldn't mind being a black widow. They're bad ass and eat their boyfriends. Random fact from Boo Boo Bear: brown widows are taking over California because they're killing off black widows. They look almost exactly the same, except that they're brown. Does this correlate with the fact that Latinos are taking over California? I think so.

Well, the whole spider in the bed ordeal made me think about my Cinco de Mayo this past year and how Boo Boo Bear was coined as such. My friend Nando often tells me that my life should be a movie, or reality tv show. "Oh, the life you lead, Nor....."

Boo boo bear and I had just come back from Las Vegas with Pen Stealer - might I add this was also the day I was given a speeding ticket? Speeding tickets are such a waste of money and time. They know I'm just going to speed again once they leave...

My friend, Criminalist, had invited me to his Cinco de Mayo party. Boo boo bear was especially excited because it meant that she would be able to watch the "Fight." I kept referring to the "Fight" as the "game," which was irking her a little bit. I have absolutely no interest in boxing - unless it has to do with two boys fighting over me. Even then, I don't like a man that resorts to violence when he is confronted with an argument. I'd much rather see a man use his wit and intellect to win me over.

Little did I know that Criminalist had actually invited me to his birthday party. It wasn't until I arrived that I noted the chocolate cake (I absolutely hate chocolate cake.) Criminalist proceeded to explain to me that the cake was really for everyone else because he has no sweet tooth. I didn't care, because all I wanted were the margarita's his mother was making and spiking with an abundant amount of tequila.

At some point, I was getting tired of drinking. This often occurs when I've spent a week drinking in Vegas and can't bring myself to consume another bit of alcohol. each time Crim's mom was handing me a margarita, I started to pour them down the sink when no one was watching. Or, to my utter horror, Boo boo bear would steal them right from under my nose! This mess in a dress proceeded to be convinced to play beer pong that night.

I have a huge dislike for drinking beer that comes out of a red cup. In fact, I like my beer out of a tap and in a fresh, cold glass. Preferably, it needs to be of a Belgium-origin and NOT bud light. Bud light is just pure desperation, if you ask me. Anyone who would resort to Bud Light has not experienced the beauty of true beer. Moreover, I can't stand drinking out of a red cup that just had a ball thrown into it. It disturbs me that people are okay with drinking out of a cup that had a ping pong ball thrown into it. A ping pong ball that's hit the floor, hit the table, touched a multitude of dirty, oily hands and, occasionally, has run into a spider web or two.

Boo boo bear and I were graciously losing the beer pong fight. She was falling all over the place trying to retrieve the ball, and at one point I saw her tumble into a bush. I, on the other hand, was trying to clean the ping pong ball and make sure my beer was not contaminated. Criminalist is a good friend of mine, and I am often able to convince him to drink my beer for me. His birthday was another example of that considerable ability I have.

Each time a ball fell into my cup, I'd drink a few sips and turn to him. "Please? You know I hate bud light, and it's your birthday. Wouldn't you much rather be getting shit faced with your best friend, Nor, than seeing her get sick?"

"Fine, but you have to take a shot for every beer you don't drink."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

Two losses later, Boo boo bear and I walked into Crim's house. She saw the pool table and proceeded to crawl underneath it. "Get in here, Nor! Let's go to sleep!"

"Cutting you off."

Crim and his friend looked at us. "You two are pretty good friends, aren't you?"

I could see a number of scenarios running through their heads that involved Diana and I. Boys and their strange fantasies. I immediately turned towards Criminalist and smacked him on the back of the head. "Get your mind out of the gutter and play a game of pool, bitch."

"Noreen! Come here!"

Crim's friend, who clearly had a crush on Boo Boo Bear, looked down at her and helped her out. "Want to be on my team?"

"You mean, I have to play against my boo boo bear?!"

"Boo boo bear?"

"Yes! Noreen is my boo boo bear"

"Yeah, don't you know that?!" I said, as I looked at Crim's friend. "Everyone knows D and I are lovers..."

Let's just say that night, Diana and I managed to find our way back to my house, break a jacuzzi and find our way into my bed. I was completely sober by the time we had left Crim's party, but the whole gang came to my house. We tried to turn on the jacuzzi, emptied it and proceeded to open a bottle of Patron. The next morning, Diana and I both woke up laughing. Criminalist was downstairs. Both of us groggily walked down the stairs and jumped into Crim's bed. "Wake up, wake up!!"

"You are both crazy!"

"Let's watch My Cousin Vinny," I said with a smile on my face.

Boo boo bear and Crim looked at my like I was a strange bird. Crim turned to me, "you're way to happy for someone who just downed half a bottle of patron last night...."

Shine Bright Like A Diamond

It never ceases to amaze me the revelations I make when I'm traversing through the wonders of life. This path I lead is quite a tumultuous tumble and I'm beginning to realize that most of it is my fault.

It's come to a point where my story has been played out and I'm just tired of talking about the pig I have to call my ex-boyfriend. Most of the time, my dad and I jokingly say, "I wasn't aware you/I had an ex boyfriend." I like that tale much better.

Long story short, the pig showed up at my work a month ago begging me to unblock him and to speak to him. He told me he really felt the love for me and was sorry he couldn't get his shit together, crying. He asked for another chance. I told him I didn't want to be with him, but we'll see how it goes because coming to my work took a lot of guts...

Fast forward three weeks, I had this sudden inkling that I should go online. There it was - that girl who had called me months before had a picture of them. I called him and told him he had a girlfriend. "No, Nor! She's obsessed with me. She's fucking obsessed. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

I paced my room. The thought that a person I put on a pedestal for six years could do something so sneaky made me mad, angry. Even worse? I wasn't the one who was trying to mend the relationship! I felt betrayed. I called the girl because I had saved her number. Two hour conversation later we both discovered he had been having sex with her at MY FATHER'S office while he was still supposedly trying to work out our relationship - among other terrible things like the fact that his mother was lying to both of us. She told me not to think I was better than her because of all this mess. Funny thing, I remember wondering why he was so kind to me those Saturdays I needed him to cover my shift because Law School required more time from me. She broke up with him, he called me and told me I was poison. I told him never to speak to me again. Then, he called again saying he was sorry for everything he ever did. But, I could hear the arrogance in his voice. This bastard actually believes what he did was okay because it wasn't like he "really" cheated.

The girl is still with him, even after all she knows about what he said about her being obsessive, stupid and that he would never really love her because he'll always love me (his words, not mine). I, on the other hand, now realize that I AM better than her. Not because I have a law degree and am about to be an attorney, not because I worked my ass off for eight years to get through college and law school, not even because I'm going to be making six figures one day - though, those are all awesome perks to being me!! :)

Back on track: I am better because I will never allow that manipulative pig to convince me he is worth more than me, ever again. He's playing the same game with her that he did with me for six years. She is falling for it and I am moving forward. On top of the fact that she is posting pictures publicly for me to see and directing rude comments towards me. Unfortunately for her, I don't check Facebook and have heard such news from my friends whom feel the need to tell me - P.s. Friends, please stop! Most of them tell me she's very unattractive, but that shouldn't matter. Aside from the fact that I'm just happy to be out of that disgusting triangle - self respecting woman, right here!

Obviously I am mad. But, mostly, I am relieved the ordeal is over. I realize he guilted me into a relationship by making me believe other girls were crazy, making me believe he needed me. When I started to second-guess him, he demeaned me and made me feel like less of a person so that I would believe no one else would want to be with me. And what it all boils down to is my own self-image: I let his words be my truth, when all along my reality should have been my own truth. My truth? I am a diamond. I am a gem. I deserve the world. Shoot, maybe the world deserves me! And, sometimes, being an optimist is the WRONG choice. It's okay to realize that there are some fucked up people in this world.

So, my new goal in life is to shine bright like a diamond. How am I doing that? I am focusing on myself and realizing what I am capable of doing - and I am not alone in this journey.

You see, I have my family and I have my friends. I've even turned my faith back to God. The day this all went down, I received a phone call from the Dentist. He was the only other person I'd ever cried over because I lost him in my life. To no surprise, three weeks later I reset my iPhone because when it comes to technology I am mildly retarded. I couldn't figure out how to change a contact name, so I decided to reset my phone and reload all my contacts. Idiotic. I've come to find out it has something to do with how you store contacts through your emails. Stupid technology. It rebooted old conversations I had with Dentist and it made me realize what a tool I was because I was so afraid he would hurt me. I had this huge guard up - on top of the fact that I was studying for the bar exam. I apologized to him immediately afterwards (two days ago) and I am hopeful that he will remain a good friend. After all, everyone needs a handsome dentist in their life. I took it as a sign from God and from life that I would be okay. And I am.

On a side note, there's a bunch of songs out right now using references to diamonds. Since when did people forget that diamond's are a girl's best friend? I have this wine cup from a close friend of mine. It has those exact words: diamonds are a girls best friend. When I was young, I often referred to my friends as diamonds because diamonds are strong and bright. Plus, they make you happy.

Okay, so now that I've said all this, I want you all to know how amazing my life has been lately!!

On Friday, October 5, 2012, for some reason I didn't pack right away. I'm really not sure why - because lately I've had a terrible memory. I'm going to chalk it up to the fact that my brain has used most of its capacity on memorizing laws. In fact, it's often something my cousin, Chicka, likes to make fun of me for. She's a comedian, literally. I often hear her say: "At least you're pretty" or "Nor, wash your fucking hair!" I wash my hair every day now, needless to say. It's mostly because I couldn't take the constant taunting - and because I've noted the error of my ways in photographs. Now-a-days you'll find me sporting a sock bun.

P.s. Looked at those toned arms! Score!! I love bootcamp

So, October 5, 2012 rolls around and I was sitting in my room at 4am bawling and crying my eyes out. I was to embark on a wonderful journey to Mexico on October 6. The problem? I couldn't, for the life of me, find my fucking passport. There my mother was crying because she thought she misplaced my passport (I am still under the belief that she lost it.) My dad was searching through my room and I, for the first time in my life, cussed him out.

"Papa, I've already fucking checked my bed three times. You looking there isn't going to change the fact that it's NOT under my bed. Get out of my room. You're not going to like what you find under my bed!"

He gave me his classic "shocked face" and walked out of my room. I proceeded to cry again and wailed to the world, "that's it! I'm not going to Mexico!"

At 5:40am I was sleeping in my bed when my mother ran into my room, "I found it!"

"Go away. I'm sleeping."

"I found it! I found it"

"What? WHAT?! Where?!"

"In your suitcase."

My dad walks in. "See Nor, you WERE the one who lost it."

I looked at him, annoyed. "No, thank you. I did NOT put it in my suitcase. That's the dumbest place to put a passport."

"Go pack, we leave in 2 hours."

"Ugh."

We reach the airport and the rest of our group was venturing, slowly into the airport. We were going on a trip with 30 attorneys and friends of attorneys. My dad, who is worse at technology then I am, was staring into a giant computer.

"How do I check us in?" He asked, looking at the machine like it were a foreign object. One of the things that drives me nuts about my dad is that he literally types on a keyboard with two fingers. It makes me want to make him play the game I used to play when I was a kid: read, write and type. A God-awful game I was obsessed with that forced you to learn how to type and, quite frankly, would love to track down and play some time.

"Seriously?" I looked at him like he were an alien.

"Not all of us are travel experts like you, Mimis."

I threw my things down.

"Give me the confirmation code, I will show you how it is done."

I punched in the numbers.

'ERROR FINDING YOUR RESERVATION'

Type. Type. Type.

"ERROR FINDING YOUR RESERVATION'

"This machine is stupid."

My mom put her two cents in, "I think they gave us the wrong codes."

"Obviously." I chimed in, because that's what I'd rather believe than believing that a seasoned traveler like myself couldn't figure out how to use a computer. Stupid machine.

"Hey! I think you can put your passports in it. Give me your passport, Papa."

I took his passport. We both eyed the machine; now I felt like I was deteriorating to my father's level of technological prowess.

"Uhm, maybe you can put it in that little slot."

"Mimis, that's for credit cards."

"Yeah, but they wouldn't say you could use your passports unless you could shove a passport in there."

I proceeded to try to shove the passport into a small slot, clearly meant for a credit card. Yes. I swear I went to law school.

"What's that thing." My dad said, pointing to a little slot to the side of the screen.

"Oh, I think it's for passports...."

I wish I could say it was a hop, skip and a jump from there....but it wasn't. You see, my dumbass forgot that we had to check luggage. We had to track down a United Airlines clerk. We got onto the plane okay. As you can tell from my story, I made it back alive.

As we exited the plane in Merida, Mexico, I could only think one thing: it smells like moldy walls. Mexico in the summertime has this very distinctive smell that one can only describe as a musty, moldy wet smell. The tropical storms that plague Mexico often leave you in a state of confusion and terror as you try to figure out whether you should trek into the wind that blows away cars, at least in my head it blows away cars, or stay inside of a building and watch shopping carts fly into the store. I swear, this has happened to me.

SIDE STORY

My dad always convinces me that we should wait out storms. I don't know why I believe him. Let's picture three little kids: my brother Tavs, Chicka and myself with my dad. We were about 10, 12 and 13 in this little town called Tepotzlan.

"Look guys, everyone keeps walking in that direction. Let's follow them."

"I'm hungry." I said.

"I'm tired." Tavs said.

"I'm wearing platforms." Jessica said.

The four of us proceeded to walk over to this wooded area that resembled a place you would see in a horror film. My dad asked everyone where they were going. "It's a pyramid. Ruins. They're at the top of the mountain."

"How far away," my dad asked.

"Not far," everyone said.

We started walking. Two hours in, I had had it. I looked at my dad and said, "I'm NOT walking up this hill." "Fine, you can wait here. I knew you wouldn't be able to do it." This is a weakness of mine. I am stubborn and I like to prove people wrong. I sat with my arms crossed, angry. I watched as Tavs, Chicka and my dad walked up the hill. Then, I started to walk. I wasn't going to let my dad tell me what I could and couldn't do. Five hours later we made it to the top. Mind you, we had to walk up rickety ladders and across jagged edges. Only later to find out that there are five deaths a year up that terrible place. Chicka was complaining and irritated, "everyone kept saying we were almost there and it took us five hours to get here! I'm going to do the same thing when we walk down."

Tavs and Chicka started to walk down. I told my dad I wanted pictures by the pyramid, so we decided to meet Tavs and Chicka.

On the walk down, a tropical storm hit. My dad and I were getting drenched in hot, humid rain. I was beginning to look like a poor, little Mexican kid that belongs in the street. In fact, I actually did get some pesos from people once we finished the ordeal. My dad's bright idea? Let's stand under a rock and wait it out. Half an hour later the storm had not passed and I realized that our haven was actually a little water fall that the storm had created. My father and I proceeded to walk down as I kept getting dirt all over myself.

Meanwhile, Chicka was sitting at the bottom of the hill with Tavs. "They died. That's the only explanation, Tavs."

Tavs was crying.

"Seriously," Jessica said,"Noreen probably slipped and broke her leg and now Papa has to carry her down. Or maybe they fell off the cliff."

Tavs' eyes got big, "Maybe they drowned."

Then, there we were Papa and I walking slowly down the mountain as I pouted.

"You look like a poor, Mexican child, Weiner (my nickname)."

"Whatever."

So, again.... my dad has the uncanny ability to convince people that storms will pass - and they do, but not in the five minutes he thinks they will.

MAIN STORY LINE Whilst in Mexico, I met the governor of Yucatan and the Supreme Court Justice. I was able to meet and make some new friends. I am deadly afraid of heights, and I managed to go zip lining! It's always a beautiful moment hearing the judge you clerked for yell from behind, "Get over it and get on the zip line!"

Since my trip, I've been polishing my dim interior. All about self-image of yourself, right?

I wrote a motion for the law firm I am working, and it was granted! I am finally working my own case, under supervision - of course. Plus, a bunch of people have been telling me I am beautiful lately. My mom's friends, a gas station attendant, girls, boys. I think it's because I have this constant smile on my face at the fact that I really do have a blessed life.

Plus, I have to smile to hide the fact that I am in CONSTANT pain from training for a half-marathon. I f*cking hate running and decided it would be a good idea. I've lost about 12 pounds so far. I'd like to think of it as a total achievement. My friend Pea in a Pod and I have been texting each other non-stop. We are both re-vamping our lives and shining like the diamonds we are meant to be. She also has this uncanny ability to make me feel like I didn't do a bad thing...and that all I need to do is run an extra mile to make it all better.

I'll let you know how that marathon goes.