Family

It's nice to have family, but it's tough too. You know? The funny thing is, and I guess it's nice in a way, you don't realize the tough part of it when you're a kid. Sure there are times that you get mad at your parents, but those times pass pretty quickly, for the majority of people. And the parents are always the adults during that time, and you're the kid, and so there's an assumption that they're in the right ... because they're looking out for you, as adult to child, that's their job.

But when you get older, and become an adult also, it gets tougher. Things aren't simplified in conversation, the way they were when you were a child. Things that were too adult for you to discuss with your parents when you were a child are no longer too adult ... because you're all adults. And when you have differences of opinions, when you even escalate into arguments over those differences, it's not as clear-cut as to who's right and who's wrong, or who should be listened to and respected the most, as it was when you were a child being raised by and taught by your parents.

And I don't know how it really is in other people's families; all I can really know is how it is in my family. What I do know, though, is there are vibes to conversations; vibes that you can actually feel. You know when everyone's having fun; you can feel it. You know when people are joking around; you can tell. You know when one person is venting about something and just wanting you to listen; it's pretty obvious. You also know when a conversation takes a serious turn, when it's about something worth paying your closest attention to and giving respect to; you can feel it in the air, and tell by the way people react, turning their bodies more towards yours, putting down any distractions they may have been involved in so that they can pay you full attention. And you can also tell when people get upset, get mad, get on the verge of crying ... and when they're disappointed. And it's tough; it's tougher to deal with as an adult than as a child. As an adult, you're more sensitive to it, or if not more sensitive then at least you understand it on a deeper level than you could have as a child, even as a teenager, and so it affects you more. And it's harder to deal with.

I have great parents, and I love them very much. Married 37 years - - 38 come April. When I think back on my childhood, I remember how great it was: I was lucky, super lucky, to have them as parents, especially compared to some other parents I know. But as I've become an adult, it's become harder and harder for us to be at ease and honest with each other. And one weird thing is that my older sister, who used to be completely at odds with them when we were young, when she was a teenager and then when she was in her twenties, is now so much closer to them, on the same wavelength, even more of a parent than they are sometimes. Whereas I, who back when she fought with them seemed to get along with them perfectly, am now the outsider of that tight little family circle; the one who just isn't as close, doesn't share as much, doesn't fit in as well.

It's just the holidays that has me thinking about all this. I remember this one Father's Day a few years ago, when I went down to my parents' house intending to spend the night, and during a nice candlelit dinner a subject came up that my mom and I got into a disagreement over, and she said stuff that to her may have seemed just honest but to me was really insulting, and she got emotional and I tried to use reason and logic to argue my point, which made her feel like I was ganging up on her to make her feel bad or something, and she got up, crying, and said she couldn't sit there anymore, and that she was going for a walk. And I got upset then; my own mother couldn't stand to sit at the dinner table with me, I'd upset her so much. So I got up too, picked up my bag, and said to my poor dad: "tell me what I said or did that was so awful. If you can tell me where I was at fault, I'll stay, and apologize." And he couldn't; he couldn't say anything. And so I left, and went back to my own house, about 100-something-plus miles away. And had a big ol' shot of bourbon when I got there.

Well there were other things before that, and other things after that, but that's one that's always haunted me, because it was Father's Day and my dad had nothing to do with it, yet it wrecked his Father's Day. Anyway ... since then, my parents and I really try hard to get along whenever we're together. But what makes it tough for me now, what makes it not as nice as it used to be way long ago when we were all really really close and of the same mind it seemed, is that now it all just seems a little too plastic. Everyone trying just a little too hard to get along, to be nice, to avoid unpleasantness. And the result is that you just don't get into deep conversations, or get into really real stuff with them anymore, your parents. And maybe that's the way it is anyway with most people; maybe that's ok, that it's like that. All I can do, though, is compare it to what it used to be. And that's why it just leaves me feeling sad.

WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF I JUST WENT BATSHIT TODAY?

I am one of only two lawyers in the entire office today, and HOLY MOTHER OF GOD there is TOO MUCH FUCKING STUFF TO DO. I have 3 things to file today - - a motion, a proposed order, and a pretrial brief; 3 different cases. I am trying to help someone else get an affidavit filed today in another case, to support yet another motion. And I have fielded EIGHT phone calls so far this morning from people with URGENT PROBLEMS SO SORRY TO BOTHER YOU BUT CAN YOU PLEASE HELP ME ASAP shit. ENOUGH!!! I CAN'T DO IT ALL!!! NOT BY MYFUCKINGSELF!!! Some of you are JUST GOING TO HAVE TO WAIT A FUCKING MINUTE OR TWO OR JUST WAIT TIL FUCKING MONDAY when my SHIT IS FILED THAT'S DUE TODAY and when there are OTHER LAWYERS IN THE OFFICE WHO SCREWED ME OVER TODAY BY ALL TAKING A FUCKING VACATION TODAY TO SIT ON THEIR ASSES AT HOME WATCHING TV OR WHATEVER THE FUCK THEY'RE ALL DOING OTHER THAN BEING IN HERE HELPING ME WITH ALL THIS GODDAMN WORK!!!!

So seriously, I'm trying to just keep coffee flowing into my system and stay polite and helpful to people as much as possible while trying to also finish my motion and order and pretrial brief, trying to multitask and just get as much done as I can get done in as little time as possible, and just get through the day and hope I manage to get it all done somehow. But ... what would happen, you think, if I really did just lose it ... if I just went batshit crazy right now? Who would take over? What would get done? Who could I freak out by going nuts on them? Hmmm....

7:52 pm Update: I managed to accomplish the three most important tasks of the day, filing the three things that needed to be filed. Along the way I also managed to edit back and forth and then get a client to complete/sign/notarize/deliver a necessary affidavit, then get it to a lawyer at another firm so she could file it today, and signed off on the joint motion in that case which thankfully she took the responsibility of preparing (another poor soul my age who was one of the only lawyers working in her firm this Friday between Christmas and New Year's on something else that had to be filed and served today); also managed to give a few decent answers to some questions on emergency things that came up today that were directed towards me only because other lawyers who normally would've answered those questions were on vacation, and also managed to put off a few other questions that the askers thought were ASAP kinds of questions but which I triaged based on my own day and decided in my mind that "fuck you, that's not important at all, I'm not dealing with this insipidity right now" but relayed that message in a much more professional and courteous manner to the client and told them someone would get back to them next week on that issue as soon as possible while also reassuring them it would all be okay. Somewhere in there I did briefly unfortunately let my otherwise pretty normally cool at-work demeanor slip with my paralegal though when she had a semi-anxiety attack over getting my filings together (copies and cover letters and certificates of service and shit - - she asked a few too many questions of me about how to attach exhibits to my motion, while I was trying forget about the motion and move on to finishing up the proposed order, and I did get a little bit testy in dealing with her questions, but I fully apologized at the end of the day when all was said and done and told her I was just exhausted from trying to get it all done, and she was ok by then too). And now I'm on my third glass of a really, really excellent Chardonnay that I bought for my boss for Christmas (I mean REALLY excellent Chardonnay, her favorite kind of wine), but which I haven't yet given her since she took 2 fucking weeks off for vacation and I've been pulling her slack in the meantime and I figure I can replace this gift I had left for her in her office b/c I felt like drinking it myself tonight and figured I deserve it more than she does right now and also figured I could replace it over the weekend and she'll never know. And frankly I think I'm on my way to being a little bit drunk. Does it show?

By the way, I think I might have a date for coffee later on this weekend with a guy I met on Eharmony who wants to drive up to my city and meet me in person; I'm expecting a call from him tonight to confirm, hope I'm not too silly-sounding and rambly from the wine by the time he calls, anyway if it happens I'll let you know how it goes; big deal for me, this date, been a long time since I've had one. (God, how pathetic is my life, reading this all back right now?)

Who, me? Writing about sex while I'm at work? Why would you think that?

Email exchange this morning with former law clerk:

Him: When I saw this headline I thought of you -Woman Fired For Writing Romance Novel At Work.

Me: Whatever made you think of me? Btw, you know how I told you I keep having all these sex dreams all the time? Well last night I had one about [male attorney in my office]. In my dream, he came over to my house, and we sat on my couch and smoked a joint and drank a beer together. We got pretty high, then he grabbed me and pulled me across his lap and kissed me, and it led to sex. Then the next day we both came into the office for work, and he apologized at first, said he was embarrassed for his behavior. I said don't be embarrassed, do you know how long it had been since I'd had sex before last night? Two and a half years. And then he shut my office door, sat on a chair and pulled me onto his lap, straddling and facing him, and then we had really hot, intense sex right there in the chair, trying hard to be really quiet so no one would know what we were doing, and I rode him really really hard until I came. Yeah, that was my dream last night. And now there's hardly anyone in the office today, it's so quiet, and on my hall, it's just me and [male attorney]. And it took a lot of effort on my part to keep my pulse rate normal and my face normal (not to blush like crazy) when he stopped by this morning to chat. Damn.

He knows me too well...

The Smack-Down Before Christmas

Scene: The Friday morning before Christmas. One of only a handful of attorneys in the office. Of the attorneys in the office, the only one with a seriously enormous shitload of work that must be done today, the last day before the holdidays.

Mood: Fairly stressed out, hyped up on caffeine, trying to focus on work and short on temper for those who attempt to interrupt.

Action: Receive an email from an attorney (an incredibly obnoxious and aggressive one, whom I do not care for at all). Attorney is writing to the judge's law clerk, copying all other attorneys on the case, with a proposed order for the judge to sign regarding a motion hearing to compel document production held this past Tuesday. Attorney makes a note that since he was the only one who was instructed to compose the proposed order, other attorneys should not be permitted to submit any proposed changes to his draft.

Get annoyed.

Send a reply email to all stating that based upon my notes from the hearing, the draft wording at the end of the order is inaccurate; state in email what my notes reflect was orally ordered by the judge.

Receive email in reply from other attorney, stating "Sadie is mistaken or was taking selective notes." Email basically says the Judge had ordered we provide a document to attorney (which I had already stated we don't have in our possession, a document reflecting information he thinks we should have somewhere; we already provided lots of other documents, all that we do have, responsive to his request), detailing how a certain decision was made by a client of mine. Suggests if I don't know how my client made the decision, maybe I should go back to the client, we should all get more information, and then we should make a new, informed decision.

Feel blood pressure rising.

Reply to all again. Tell them I believe it's inappropriate for the attorney to suggest the decision by my client was uninformed when he so far has failed to depose my client to ask my client how and why the decision was made. Say that if he cannot glean the rationale by reviewing the documentation we have already provided then perhaps he should at least notice a deposition and have my client explain the documents to him, which she is certainly in a position to be able to do, before asking the judge to take the drastic step of remand.

Receive reply from from third attorney who has been cc'd on this chain, chiming in that her notes from the hearing are in agreement with what I stated in my earlier email. Phone rings as I'm reading it; it's the third attorney. Vent frustrations with her over what an idiot the other attorney is. She tells me she's glad I wrote that last email pointing out this guy has not taken a single deposition yet; judge might wonder now why the guy is whining about not having enough facts to go on to bring his case when he's been sitting on his pretty little ass not doing any real work so far, other than bothering the rest of us with a bunch of complaining emails and motions to compel the very little discovery (a few requests to produce documents; no interrogatories yet even) that he's sent so far.

Get back to work.

Warning to all: Don't fuck with me. I'm not in the mood for it.

Success

It's a small success, but nevertheless worth posting about I guess.

I just had my first phone call with an eharmony match, and I have to say, it was a definite success.

I can't even begin to tell you how apprehensive I was about it. I mean, it's a phone call, no big deal, right? But I've just been so iffy about this whole online dating thing, not knowing quite what to expect from eharmony, that I've been kind of wary about it all; wary about the people I've been matched with and what to expect from them. So when this guy I had exchanged several emails with asked if he could set up a secure phone call with me, I was a little like, whoa man, you're taking it kinda fast, aren't you? (How ridiculous does that sound, reading that sentence back ... a phone call is taking it too fast? But seriously, that's how wary I've been about this process.) But the secure call means you don't have to give the other person your phone number; you give it to eharmony, and then they set up the phone call between you, so that neither of you sees the other person's number, either on caller id or on your phone bill or whatever. So I figured I'd give it a shot; figured if it went horribly I could come up with an excuse to get off the phone, then just kind of ignore the guy if he sent me any more messages (well, ignore as in give out some lame excuse as to why I just didn't think we were a good match or that I'm just too busy with work these days or met somebody else or whatever.)

But after just getting off the phone with this guy a few minutes ago, I looked at the clock and realized, damn, I talked to him for an hour and ten minutes, and I was having fun the whole time. He had me laughing a lot. And he was just so easy to talk to. I was really anticipating an awkward conversation, but we got over that first awkwardness pretty quickly, and damn but he actually sounded normal. More than normal; cool.

He wants to meet me for coffee sometime. We don't live in the same city, but we're not terribly far apart either - an hour and a half, plus the city where he lives is the one where I grew up basically and where my sister and her family live now, so I go there plenty. But he volunteered to come up here sometime. Just to meet for coffee, to get a chance to meet in person and talk more in person. And it was just so enjoyable talking to him that I said I'd be up for that. Sometime. Don't know when, but you know, just some time. So I would definitely have to call that a success.

Of course, now that I'm off the phone, part of me is thinking, "coffee? whoa fella, aren't you moving a little too fast here?" (Coffee, for christ's sake; I'm thinking it's fast to just have a cup of coffee with someone? jeez but I've been out of the dating loop too long.)

Anyway, point is, right now I'm feeling pretty proud and accomplished and happy and shit. All over a phone call. I tell you what, dating sure seems tougher to me today than it ever used to be.

Alright, I'm gonna have another glass of wine now.

My clit is twitching.

Like, all the time. Without stimulation or thought.

While I'm trying to go to sleep, while I'm working on a brief, while I'm sitting through a deposition, while I'm driving my car. In a word, constantly.

It either means I have some kind of nerve disorder, or I am just really, really horny these days.

Just thought I'd share.

Kids Warp the Mind

It is 5:30 pm, Saturday. I have spent the day playing with, feeding, mediating arguments between, consoling, and generally listening to and watching and entertaining my 6-year-old niece and my 4-year-old nephew. They are finally settled down and quiet, watching a Christmas movie about Santa. It's just dark out now, and we've turned on the Christmas lights. And now that I've finally had a moment to sit down, I feel like it must be 10 o'clock at least, not just 5:30. I mean, I could go to bed right now. And that's just sad.

Remind me never to have kids of my own.

My Weird In-Law-In-Laws

I've never been married, but I feel I can claim the right to tell stories about and bitch and moan about and generally make fun of my sister's in-laws, because those people are just freaks of nature and it's kind of fun to tell stories about them sometimes.

Most recently I saw my sort-of-in-laws at Thanksgiving, at my sister's house. The mother-in-law has a very precious (read with sarcasm) little pooch. Now, I am a dog person, for sure; I love dogs. However, this particular one was a little over the top, even for me. The dog was tiny, first of all; and basically just a ball of hair. The mother-in-law cradled it in the crook of her arm constantly, and it just sort of perched there and shivered and stared out at the rest of us with its big bug eyes protruding underneath a mound of fluff.

That was kind of annoying; what was more annoying, though, was that she (the mother-in-law) insisted on holding the dog like that, perched in the crook of one arm, while we all ate Thanksgiving dinner at my sister's dining room table. She asked several of us before we sat down if we would mind if the dog sat with her, and we said no of course not - I mean seriously, how do you protest when it's not your house and not your own in-law; but I noticed she did not ask my sister if she minded. I'm assuming it's because she knew my sister would indeed mind, given the not-so-nice out-the-corner-of-her-eye cold side glances I caught my sister giving her mother-in-law a few times during dinner (one particular look was so pointed that I noticed the mother-in-law actually scooted her chair back away from the table a few inches when she saw it. She did not, however, put the pooch down.)

Lest you think I'm making this particular in-law seem too weird over something you think is small - I know lots of people who feed their dogs table scraps and don't mind them hanging out underfoot during meals - let me give another, better example of the extent to which this in-law is derangely attached to the quivering little dog of hers; a story that probably also explains the extent of my sister's (my sister who has a golden lab of her own, which was banished to the fenced-in back yard during that Thanksgiving meal) hostility toward the pampered pooch. This goes back to last Christmas, pre-Christmas, when the in-laws were visiting and my sister and brother-in-law took them out shopping in the historic downtown area of the city where they live. The in-laws brought their little doggy with them that trip too, of course; but that time, it wasn't good enough just to hold the little thing in the crook of an arm or let it walk alongside them on a leash, like a normal dog. Oh, no. No, instead, they brought along a stroller - yes, a baby-stroller - that they had bought especially for the dog. And they proudly strolled that tiny pooch down the streets and into the shops in the stroller, with blankets bunched up all around it, and thought it very normal. My sister grew more embarrassed as the afternoon outing went on, especially when strangers stopped to look at and admire a baby only to back away in confusion (and perhaps fear at unsuspectingly encountering a crazy couple on the street?) when they realized it was a dog in the baby stroller, not a baby. So my sister and brother-in-law ended up walking about 15 feet ahead of the in-laws, and pretended as best they could not to be connected to them in any way.

I guess what made me think of writing about these crazy people tonight is the most recent story making the rounds in the family circle, which is frankly just too sordid to go into right now. Although I can't help but mention it. So suffice it to say it's a story about a woman leaving a man, and a girl who lives with them, who he is maybe having an affair with, but who people also suspect may actually be his own illegitimate daughter. I mean, I like a juicy story as well as the next person, but I just can't bring myself to get into that particular one in any more detail. Which is why I'm writing about their dog instead. At least no one had sex with the dog. (That I know of, anyway...)

More disharmony

I've had a few matches so far who seem really set on requiring that the person they date is religious and attends church or whatever. Living in the South, I guess you expect you run into that, so that didn't really surprise me. But even though I do live in the South, I was still somewhat taken aback by Joseph and his up-front revelation of his personal dealbreaker.

In his very first exchange of questions with me, he asked me if I date outside of my race. I told him the truth - that I never have, but that I don't have anything against it. Since Joseph describes himself as Caucasian, same as me, I was curious about that question, so when it was my turn to ask I sent him the same question in return - and said that I was curious he'd asked it (no one else has, and it's not listed as one of the "standard" questions that you can choose to ask, he created it on his own), so I was asking it back.

I just got his answer. "No I don't, and I do not approve of it either."

So much for Joseph. Not that interracial dating would be an issue that would come up between us, so much as that when you bring something like that up right off the bat and lay it down, well, I'm guessing you're not the kind of person I want to be with.

Disharmony

So I signed up with eharmony recently. Go ahead, feel free to make fun. I figured, I'm not dating anyone, I haven't for awhile, and I don't really meet new people much, so what's the harm. Yeah. I thought I'd share a few of my not-so-successful initial matches with you.

James: Very shortly into the guided communication stage, as in after just a couple brief exchanges of basic information, I made a mental note to myself - "this guy seems kinda creepy." Something about his picture and some of the things in his personal statements, although nothing I could put my finger on; just a gut feeling. Then I got his very first real email message, and it was ok, really short, nothing special or weird really. Until 2 hours later, when I had not yet responded to it but was still thinking about whether I even wanted to respond to it, I got another email message from him, this one saying "Hi Sadie. Just wanted to make sure you got my last email. James." I closed the match. Figured gut instinct confirmed, go ahead and cut him off. A few hours later, I got a message that he'd responded to the email eharmony sent him saying I'd closed the match. His final message said "I really thought we had a connection, please reconsider." Gut instinct double confirmed.

Matt: After initial exchange of basic information, I made a mental note to myself - "seems kinda creepy." Again, nothing I could pinpoint really. On the second exchange of basic information, in answer to the eharmony standard question of "do you consider yourself physically affectionate when in a relationship," he wrote the following answer: "I love to give and receive physical affection- meowww:-)". I closed the match.

Allen: After an initial exchange of basic information, I made a mental note to myself - "seems kinda ok except I'm thinking we might not be a good match because he indicated he only drinks a few times a year and he goes to church every week." I figured that was something to keep in mind but not a reason to immediately terminate. After the next round of communication, in answer to the eharmony standard question of "who has been the most influential person in your life," he answered "Pope John Paul II because he valued human life and God's love for humankind." He also said that one of his "must haves" in his match is that he meet someone who attends worship service regulary. I closed the match.

Stephen: His basic information said he is 5 feet 3 inches tall, and his picture looked like that of a midget. I closed the match immediately.

Doug: Another one where the basic information indicated he was religious and that was important to him plus he rarely drinks, and so again I made a mental note to myself - "seems ok, but afraid we might not be a good match." Then I got his next round of information, and saw that in response to the basic question of what is the last book you read, he answered "the Left Behind series," and said you can learn a lot from it. I didn't know what that was, so I googled it, and I found this web site. I closed the match.

I'm not very optimistic. On the upside though, I may have tapped into the motherload of blogging material.

Giving Thanks

I just spent the longest Thanksgiving ever with my family. From Thursday morning until Tuesday morning. A long time to be with the parents, several long trips in the car, and a really, really long time to be without my vibrator, which I forgot to pack.

So after finally getting back home today, I gave thanks to my trusty, reliable rabbit for all the wonderful orgasms it has given me this past year.

I gave thanks to it three times.

Ahhhhh, I feel better now.

What to do on a slow, quiet day in the office?

There's hardly anyone here today, except for me - one of the very few poor saps in my office working the day before Thanksgiving. There are a few little things I could be doing, work-related things, but none are that important; and really, aren't you expected, almost required, to goof off if you have to be in the day before a big holiday? Especially when it's so quiet, so few people around.

I chatted for a while with one of the only other attorneys here today for a while this morning. But then he left early; claimed his wife called him sick, and he had to go home and take care of the baby - I call bullshit on that. But more power to him for coming up with an excuse to leave work.

Next I spent a good solid hour wasting time on the internet, until that got boring.

Then I started daydreaming. That quickly turned into some erotic fantasizing that got me seriously wet and wanting. Which then turned frustrating. And now I can't get fantasies of sex out of my mind.

I guess there's only one more thing to do then: close the door, hike up my skirt, and masturbate until lunchtime.

As 2 weeks stretches into 2 months ...

After spending years in my cubbyhole of an office, the one my bosses told me was the newbie lawyer office unfortunately but one no new lawyer has had to suffer in for very long, I am finally getting a bigger office at work. Not a different office though. Rather, they're knocking down walls and expanding the space of my existing office.

A lot of work to do just for little ol' me. But I figure the big boss man decided he had to do something of this magnitude for me in terms of office space, after he refused my request 2 years ago for an office that had been sitting empty for 4 months because there's a waiting list for office space based on seniority/when you asked for a new office ... only to then, 9 months ago, give a brand new (but older than me) hire a much larger office which he did not first offer to me, despite the whole seniority/when you asked for a new office policy. Yeah, he owes it to me.

So they began construction work on the new space around the beginning of October. "Two week job," they told me. The next week, "yeah, it's gonna be another two weeks," they said. The following week, "well, things have gone kinda fast so far because we were knocking things down and putting up big new things, but now we're at the finessing stage, where the work goes slower so it's gonna take longer. Probably looking at another two weeks." That was two weeks ago. And they're so far from finished, judging by the looks of things.

Well I'm just happy to be getting the bigger space. And my temporary digs aren't bad.

What would really be funny, though, would be if I actually get a positive reply to one of the new jobs I've been applying for in the meantime. Because that would epitomize the role of timing in my life.

"Sadie, I know we said it would only take 2 weeks, but finally your new office is finished! Aren't you excited?" "Yes, that's awesome! By the way, I quit."

It wasn't me, I swear.

I took my cat to the vet yesterday. The poor little thing was really sick, even had a fever. I wasn't surprised when the vet said that she had a virus. But it was the kind of virus she has that took me for a loop.

My cat has herpes.

Which makes me wonder: which of the neighborhood cats has my little slut been letting slip it to her when I'm not looking? Because I know she didn't get it from me. I always use protection.

Fuck It.

I'm back.

The workplace has been crazy the past few months, and getting crazier day by day. The turnover rate is huge right now, started not long after new management took over. And one of the things a number of people have gotten nailed on lately is secret-employer-police looking over people's shoulders and signing on to their user accounts to determine what web sites they've visited on their work pc's, to see if there's anything there that violates the workplace internet usage policy. Out of a sense of foreboding, I decided it was best to delete my blog, a place I'd accessed plenty from my work computer, a place where I'd ranted a good bit about work shit.

But fuck it. I need an outlet, dammit. And probably no one at work cares what sites I've accessed on my computer. But more importantly, when a single thirty-something girl finds herself venting all her day-to-day stuff by drinking wine at night and talking to her two cats, then she's in danger of more serious repercussions than just finding herself perhaps out of a job working for nosy employers one day.

This blog may not be totally healthy, and there's a not-entirely-paranoia-induced chance that it could get me fired, but I tell you what ... it sure as hell beats running the risk of turning into Eleanor Abernathy.