School’s out. Forever.

School’s out…forever.

If you’re like me, graduation was more about photo opps and saying affectionate and believable goodbyes to people I knew I’d probably never see again. But the whole event is so archaic. I mean, pomp and circumstance, really? Why?

Anyway, congrats on graduating. Enjoy the photo session and the boring commencement speeches. Sadly, this is as good as it gets!

First of all, no one cares about college. No, really. It’s an experience, sure. But as far as true academia goes, it doesn’t have much value. In fact, it doesn’t teach you much that you can apply to the real world. I’ll even go so far as to say that the four years you spend in undergrad is merely a money-maker for your school. But don’t say that too loud or we’ll scare away the incoming class of 2016. Sounds eerie, no?

Sure, your parents probably dished out about $80 grand for you to go school. And of course, it’s all you ever hoped for during the formative years of your life. Really, it’s what you looked forward to achieving and becoming. The first real goal you ever set for yourself. You did it! Yay! Most people can’t and don’t. But even though you did, it doesn’t really matter. Cuz let’s face it, you don’t really know anything. Well, at least not yet.

If you’re not off to grad school, then…good luck finding a job. The market is oversaturated. Whether you’re en engineer or a social worker, you’re pretty much screwed. Sure, you sat at commencement, in your cap and gown, and listened to some stuffy alum from your school–someone famous, like the one guy who made it big from your school–tell you that the world is your oyster, the future of the country lies within your hands, and that you and your fellow graduates will be at the forefront of all the positive changes that the world will see in the coming years…

Enjoy it. Because…this is the last time anyone will ever really tell you that. (And actually make you believe it). Once you get that diploma cover (‘cuz you won’t get your actual diploma till July or August…and by then, you’ll be over it…) and hear your name mispronounced on loudspeaker, you’ll just be a kid, with no experience, competing for an entry-level job, that really doesn’t pay enough for you to be able to move out, eat, shop, go out, buy stuff, AND travel.

You’ll go to work. No one will really care where you graduated from (unless it was the top school in your state, an Ivy league, or a well-known school with an amazing football team). You’ll be a glorified paper pusher for a solid 10 years. Maybe 20…before someone actually trusts you enough to make real decisions. It’s just the way of the world. Your 9 to 5 will make you miserable…and if you hate your 9 to 5, you’ll probably hate your life. But that’s all life is for some. A routine of 9 to 5’s…stops at the grocery store, and weekends to run errands and be lazy. Welcome to being a “grown up”…

Post-Grad Playground

You’ll hear people complain endlessly about their jobs. But no one will do anything about it. They’ll keep working and looking forward to the weekend, a vacation, retirement, heck…even death! And it’s not that these people are lame, boring, dumb, or crazy…they just get stuck in something for a solid 43 years. They’ll be so busy paying bills, organizing their kids carpool, buying anniversary gifts for their spouses, that they’ll actually “forget” that life doesn’t always have to suck.

You’re still young though so you’ll feel a little sorry for them. Unlike them, you’ll attempt to save a portion of your paycheck but you’ll blow the rest on new technology, Netflix bills, and shoes you probably can’t afford. Most of your disposable income will go toward eating and out and buying overpriced alcohol when you meet with your friends to escape the drone of nine-to-five-to-nine-to-five-to-nine-to-five-to-nine-to-five…

You’ll get stuck because well, “If I lose my job, I won’t make rent….” Or “I have a mortgage, I simply can’t quit.” Mind you, each and every one of these financial commitments…even a spouse or kids, just keeps your feet planted at the “company” even firmer. It’s sad. It is. I’ll be the first to admit it. It’s like an addiction…one you can’t escape.

So you’ll stay stuck in a world of unfulfilling days, annoying co-workers (who don’t know when to shut up), and bosses who will terminate you the second they realize you’re no longer profitable. Yup, even the good ones.

This is when the true learning will start. This is when you’ll search in your heart, mind, and soul to discover your passion. Like those people you took classes “about”, you’ll philosophize. You’ll attempt to figure out what gives your life meaning, and how you want to make your mark on the world. This will be your education. And frankly, you’ll learn more—on your couch—web-surfing on your iPad, than you ever did in College.

You’ll eventually come to a place where writing a mere blog entry will be more meaningful than an entire legal brief that could make a big win for your client. And that’s ok. Because you’ll realize that relating to people, and making your voice heard, means more than the words “magna cum laude” on a piece of paper ever could.

If your academic life was where you shined brightly…then work will always be lackluster in comparison.

As for me…I know where my interests and my passions lie. I’m learning what my talents and my strengths are. Someday, I’ll have the courage to toss aside my diploma and focus on reading, learning, and thinking…way more than I ever did in “school”. Cuz’ the truth of the matter is, even though I always knew where I was going, I still don’t know where I’ll end up.

©2012, Leegal Deeva. All rights reserved.

the day Hillary Clinton left the house without makeup

The well-known joke goes like this…

Bill and Hillary stop at a gas station in Arkansas.  Hillary recognizes the gas station attendant…after all, he was one of her first boyfriends.  Bill chuckles and says, “Aren’t you happy you married me instead of him?”  Hillary cocks her head back and says, “What do you mean, Bill? If I’d married him, he would have been President.”

As they say, “behind every successful man….”

It was the early 1970s.  They were sitting in a Civil Liberties class at Yale back when men outnumbered women in law schools (women made up less than 3% of law students…as opposed to the standard 51% today).  He kept looking at her.  She was smart, confident, not aggressive, but assertive.  She finally got up and said, “You keep looking at me and I’m gonna look back.  I might as well introduce myself.  I’m Hillary Rodham.”


They were married in 1975 and they lived happily ever after.


She achieved national and international acclaim in the early 1990s when her husband, then governor of Arkansas, was positioning himself as the Democratic national candidate for the presidency.  No one liked her.  Really, they didn’t.  Frizzy hair.  Frumpy dresses.  Boxy suits.  Not too attractive.  But she was there.  On his arm…the arm of a charming, well-spoken, engaging, and quite debonair 42nd president of the United States.

We vilified her.  Called her a B*tch.  Now we respect her.  What did it?  I, for one, was an ambitious 17-year old, impressed by her poise and confidence as she watched her husband face impeachment hearings and public torment due to his misadventures with a buxom, brunette White House intern with a lazy habit when it came to dry cleaning.  But even then, we didn’t sympathize as much as we could (…or should).

The years unraveled.  Everyone (except for Monica Lewinsky…where has she been anyway?) escaped unscathed.  Even their only daughter, Chelsea Clinton, was able to have a legitimate, enviable relationship that blossomed in to an engagement, in 2009, and marriage, in the summer of 2010.  Bill (“the Thrill”) settled in to a life of public appearances, political endorsements, and good-will efforts.  Hillary came in to the light.  First as a New York Senator…and then, as the Secretary of State.

Now, anyone that knows Leegal Deeva knows these few tid bits:

a)     I love Power Couples…it’s all I’ve ever wanted for myself;

b)     I am intelligent and I value guys who are drawn to intelligence;

c)      I was 16 when I made my first (love) promise me that if he became President of the United States (which he said he would become…and it’s not unlikely seeing as he was an Eagle Scout, on his way to the United States Naval Academy…and now a Marine whose been to Iraq, Afghanistan, and more), he would appoint me as the Secretary of State;

d)     I’ve had a life-long obsession with politicians and royalty;

e)     I always imagined being the party-planning wife of a politician (this tid-bit is no longer…I’m over polticians , but that’s a topic for another day and another blog.)

So, it’s only natural that I would be in awe of all Hillary is and what she has achieved.  Not just as a lawyer or a politician…but as a woman and a WIFE.  I do keep up with her news.  Which is why I was stunned, appalled, pained, and emotionally plagued to hear that the blogosphere as well as all legitimate news outlets were getting their panties in a bunch because why? Hillary Clinton had shown her face in public without a smudge of makeup?

Seriously, people! Hillary had to have quit her modeling career as early as 1970 because since then, she’s been a practicing attorney, and someone who strives and achieves far more than your average Jane Doe who looks like she’s been dipped in a vat of concealer every day.  And last time I checked, the likes of Giselle Bunchen and Ryan Gossling aren’t working in Poltics.

Everyone was on her case.  I mean this is not a woman who is a stranger to having her entire life dissected in the media.  But seriously? She’s a 64 year old woman.   She’s never gotten anywhere (sorry, Hill!) based on her looks or her beauty.  And to expect “beauty” of an attorney and/or politician…it’s really unfair!  She hasn’t put herself out there as an actress.  She wasn’t our Sophia Loren or Linda Evans (I’m really sad about how Linda looks nowadays, by the way…super super sad).  We don’t get to say Hillary looked ugly.  We don’t get to dictate that she look beautiful at all times.

Regardless of where you find yourself in the world of politics (I lean to the right), the idea that any of us would hold the Secretary of State, a woman, to the beauty standards of actresses her age is simply bizarre.  No one pays her to look beautiful.  No one pays her to get her hair done, or her makeup done.  If she chooses to go makeup-free for a day, it’s her choice.  And I commend her.

But the rest of you, who judged her, like you’d judge a high school classmate for having acne or frizzy hair, sent a little message out in to the world that when you’re a woman, you have to look good doing whatever you’re doing…even if it’s serving as the President’s chief foreign affairs advisor.

Hillary, thanks for not giving a sh*t.  Thanks for having the courage to dismiss the criticism.  After all, she said, “You know, at some point, it’s just not something that deserves a lot of time and attention. I feel so relieved to be at the stage I’m at in my life right now, and if others want to worry about it, I let them do the worrying for a change.”


As a woman who sometimes goes without makeup but does want to succeed, I find you truly inspirational.  Thank you, Madame Secretary.


©2012, Leegal Deeva.  All rights reserved.


it happened. it was inevitable. i’m in a mental, “i dont give a sh*t” kind of place.  a tear just plopped down on my white shirt and all i can think is will my mascara stain it? i dont want to do anything today.  it’s possible that it’s monday and that’s the reason why. but i just can’t help but feel that i am the same on the other days…there’s just no excuse for it then.

perhaps it’s the rain.  it makes me feel so melancholy.  i love being inside during the rain. i nearly wished for it when i was sweating my butt of these past couple of days. wishing i was a skinny girl who could wear paper-thin sundresses, be tan (year-round without the risk of wrinkles, or worse–skin cancer), not worry about cellulite and jiggly arm fat.
why can’t someone love me for who i am? to look at me and think, i’m the ideal girl for him. cultured, intelligent, bright…beautiful.
i am all those things.  yet even at my best…in single digit sized jeans, perfect hair, perfect smile, perfect skin…”he” (whoever the “he” of the moment was) still didn’t want me. they’ve broken me.  to be rejected by people who never even had your heart or emotion? how would that make you feel? how would that work toward making u want to keep trying?
and that’s just it. i’ve stopped trying.  boys…i’d rather live without them. diet? a bowl of mac ‘n cheese (not that i’ve had mac ‘n cheese lately…but any comfort food will suffice) is always better than going out, feeling fat, getting rejected. catching a few episodes of a brainless tv show is easier than the routine of getting ready for the gym, sweating my butt off, showering, blowdrying, doing endless laundry…running out of socks and underwear b/c of my life-consuming gym habit.
friends suggest vacations. ok, i’ll go. but when i come back, reality always envelopes me with it’s mundane, unexcited, dead weight.
but what is it that really digs at me? i think it’s the boys.  the ones who didn’t want me. ok, they did…they wanted my information, knowledge, affection, interest, company, humor, advice…but they didn’t want “me”.  i wanted to give them all of it…and my heart, and my devotion, and respect, and love–forever.  but they handed it back to me.  the way you hand back something that’s too expensive and impractical…something that you’ve studied on the internet and read consumer reviews about but never actually consider buying.
instead, they go for the run of the mill.  the type they said they’d never enjoy. the blonde. the ditz. the smoker. the girl with wrinkles (no offense to anyone that has wrinkles). the one who speaks one language, and can’t spell.  the one who puts herself first. is selfish toward you. takes what you give without reciprocating. the one who absorbs all your love and affection but leaves you broken-hearted several years later, claiming: “i love you but i’m not IN love with you.” … “i love you but i love “him” more…” “i love you but i want to go ‘find myself'”
why her?
why not me? why can’t it be me? when i’m the one that’s IN love with you. when i’m the one who will always love YOU more (even than myself).  when i’m the one who wants to to create “me” around the concept of you and give you everything i have.
it’s not that i’m not enough.  it’s just that i’m too much. and i can’t forgive myself for always wanting to be “less” so that i can have “more.”

©2012, Leegal Deeva.  All rights reserved.