no one likes to lose control, but for me, there's nothing worse. it's a sign of weakness. and sometimes, it just gets away from me. the world stops spinning and i realize that my brains and cleavage and sarcastic comments aren't going to save me. no matter how hard i fight it, i fall. and it's scary as hell.

except there's an upside to freefalling. it's the chance you give your friends to catch you.

after a complete family meltdown yesterday afternoon, i was supposed to meet a handful of friends for drinks. although i normally would have bailed, i realized that even another 6 episodes of season two of nip/tuck would not have made me feel better.

and frankly, when sex and plastic surgery can't fix something, there's little hope.

i don't know if it's my latina side, my jewish side, or my look-at-me-center-of-attention-control-freak side, but when it comes to social gatherings, i've found myself often elaborating on the unnecessary details of the dramatic/traumatic stories of my life. for me, communication is interactive and dynamic. and often includes a lot of hand gestures underlined by a volume that is probably a decibel too loud for most restaurants.

on my way home from drinks -- exhausted but feeling mildly better about the fact that my dad called me an irresponsible and selfish slut yesterday -- two thoughts crossed my mind.

the first was that there was something special about the people i had entrusted with the burden of my horrible day. i hadn't seen danny since i left dc two years ago. and probably hadn't seen josh since i graduated college. i think i see alyson at random moments we both happen to be in dc, and deb and i have a deeply passionate relationship ... over instant messenger (apparently, online relationships are a symptom of studying for the bar).

but somehow, once the margaritas were down, it was as we hadn't graduated from college almost a half dozen years ago. after all, these were the people with whom i shared some of the best moments in my life. and i didn't even have to fuck a single one of them!

the second thing i wondered about was whether my life is really any more dramatic/traumatic than the lives of my fellow twenty-nothings. or if maybe i am just more open about sharing intimate details. the kid who finally got me to orgasm after 26 years. the fact that i might be the only first year law student who refuses to look at her grades. the time one of my cats got loose on an airplane. the sexual assault. the fake eye lash extensions for my sister's wedding.

i am not disconnected enough to know that these are the typical situations that challenge the twenty-nothing generation.

and, "slut" is a fatherly term of endearment, right?