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Welcome to my little corner of the ether. This is where you will find information about my books and musings on life and love in New York City. To stay in the loop about all things ADR...

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Vintage Typewriter Letter On Wednesdays, I usually write silly stories (like this one!) about my adventures with my girls. And maybe I will pony up a second post today in which I regale you with one such silly story. But, in this post, my agenda is (slightly) more serious. I must articulate two apologies for transgressions I committed. Transgressions of which I have heretofore been haplessly unaware.

The first apology is to my girls.

The second is to the world. Yes, the world.

You might wonder how I learned of these transgressions. Or you might not care much. It doesn't matter whether you care or not because I will tell you. I wrote a post yesterday, a love letter to my Ex-Profession. I was proud of this post. I am proud of it. A big legal website linked to my post which was both thrilling and terrifying. Thrilling because I like and respect the site's editor and because the site has oodles of visitors. Terrifying because some of those visitors, especially the ones who decide to leave comments, are not very nice. Whether this vitriol is evidence of the perils of anonymity or deep-rooted disillusionment within the confines of the legal world, I'm not entirely sure or qualified to say. But, anyway, once that link went live, I bit my lip, willed my skin to spontaneously thicken, and waited for the jabs to come.

And come, they did. Not as many as I feared. But a couple. And this, friends, is where I learned of two very terrible things I have unwittingly done. Things for which I will now apologize. I will post here the exact quotes of the two comments I received (on the aforementioned legal blog) so you can appreciate the full flavor.

Comment #1: The "Ivy League Insecurities" article was written by some chick named "Aiden." On the site she explains she has two girls with boy's names. Child abuse is a cycle. How sad."

Apology to My Girls: I am so sorry for giving you names that are traditionally considered to be male names. Yes, I love these names. Husband loves these names. In fact, we think they are beautiful and whimsical and suit each of you perfectly, but I didn't realize that in shrouding you with these more masculine monikers, I was in some way perpetuating a cycle of abuse, a cycle of which I was myself unaware. Perhaps I should have been more honest with myself about all this. I should have taken stock of just how much I have suffered over the past thirty years by having the name Aidan (with an "a," dear commenter). And I should have wanted to protect you at all costs from the misery and mockery I have endured and given you decidedly feminine names. I hope you girls find it in your kind hearts to forgive us.

Comment #2: Anyone read that Ivy League Insecurities article? It was pathetic- what really struck me was all the sappy supporting comments which were made. People wonder why the economy is so bad- it's because too many Americans (regardless of their academic background or lack thereof) are lazy, self-entitled and have their heads in the clouds.

Apology to the World: I am so sorry that by stepping off that high-wattage corporate track, a track on which I could have and perhaps should have persevered and excelled, I helped break our national and international economy. I never knew that choosing to follow my dream of being a writer was tantamount to sticking my self-entitled head in those proverbial and naughty clouds. I never knew that taking care of two young girls and writing books and penning a blog post everyday was the portrait of laziness. Silly me. Oh, and those "sappy supporting comments"? Upon second glance, yes, they were pathetic and saccharine and not at all thoughtful or honest. The fact that there are people out there who believe that it is good to pursue passions and chase dreams and that it is okay to have "what if" moments from time to time is nothing short of sad.

Phew. Now I feel much better.

Okay, I have officially run out of sarcasm. We all know that sarcasm and self-deprecation thinly veil deeper, more meaningful and murky feelings. Truth be told, the above comments didn't devastate me. I read them and I chuckled. But their acidic essence stuck with me. They affected me enough that I have now framed an entire blog post around them when I should be writing about how Toddler scarfed Jelly Bellys for breakfast and Baby ran macaroni through what hair she has and gelled it into tiny little horns.

Why did these comments affect me? Because I am human? Because I am sensitive? Because I am worried there is a kernel of truth in each one? Because these two little comments represent what's to come when this blog grows and the book debuts? Because part of me thinks I should have named my girls Jennifer and Jessica? Because part of me thinks that I am being weak and lazy and self-entitled by playing with words at Starbucks rather than plugging away in a corporate institution somewhere in the morass of Midtown? I don't know.

What I do know is that I love my post about leaving the law. I love my girls and their wonderful names and the stories that make up our days. I love doing this. Thinking. Digesting. Creating. Writing. I love all of your comments because they make me think and want to write more.

I will not apologize for loving these things. You can't make me. Neither can those meanies at Above the Law. So there.

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What are your thoughts on this? (The sappier the better.)

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