Three conversations with Mei.

All I've done since Rob came back from Florida:

1) Sleep in.
2) Hang out with friends and fam.
3) Repeat steps one and two.

It's been good. So very good. I feel relaxed and enlivened and... LAZY!

I know it's probably just a sign of my crazy-compulsive behavior, but now that it's settled in that the most stressful thing I've done in the past 72 is look for a tailor - well, I'm feeling mighty slothful. Fo real. The money-making hustla in me is just screaming to re-emerge.

Thing is, the craziness of my work life will be returning to normal come tomorrow. I'll be working at the women's center tomorrow morning, then off to the dom job from 5 to 11. On Wednesday, I'll be at Mei's, and then I'll be spending 5 to 11 at the dom job again. And on Thursday, I'll be putting the last touches on my outfit for the wedding I'm attending this weekend; then I'll be working the dom job from 5 to 11. In between all that, I'm signing all the papers so I can get readmitted into school, and talking to the folks at the CUNY Honors Academy about getting back my coveted seat. I'm also networking a shit-storm, and trying to rebuild bridges that were recently burned.

Oh, and did I mention that I'm looking for MORE work? Yeah, just in case my schedule isn't crazy enough, I'm requiring myself to earn money for ANOTHER 25 hours per week. At least. Mei's got a lead on a substantial paycheck via office work, and I've found a lead on a few phone sex places that pay $40-60/hour. I thought my days of being a lady of the line were over, but after seeing those kinds of dividends, I say, "Bring it on!"

The other night, when Mei and I were driving out to Nassau, she said to me, "You're very smart and competent, and it doesn't take a lot of money to live. I think you'll be able to find a part-time job that you can live off of, so that you can write in the meantime."

To which I replied: "Yeah, I know you and Nina [one of my mentors from the women's center] think it's cool to just make enough money to get by... but I don't want that for myself. I get bitter if I don't have the funds to do what I want - and I'm not ashamed to admit it, I want to live lavishly."

Mei laughed. "Really?"

"Yeah. No joke."

I left it at that, and Mei appreciated my candor, but what I really wanted to say was, "I know how hard it is when you don't have enough money to do the things people should be entitled to do in a capitalist economy. Like paying my rent/mortgage. And affording to live in a neighborhood or building that I love. And sending myself, and eventually my children, to school. And being able to have the time and money to unwind when I need to de-stress. Those are all things I won't be able to do if I don't give myself enough financial leeway - and if that means working my tail off right now, then so be it."

*****

I saw my soon-to-be-roommate *fingers crossed*, Asia, at a barbecue on Saturday, and the more we talk the more I really think that moving in with her is a great idea.

I really and truly love Rob's mom's house. I love Rob's family, and I love being able to talk to such cool people all the time. Thing is, what with my crazy-hectic schedule and burgeoning hustling prowess, the last thing I need when I get home is more stimulation. What I really need after a looonngg day is a quiet place for my head to relax - and a house full of young people just doesn't fit the bill.

Yeah, I've got mine and Rob's room as a refuge from the chaos, but it doesn't really feel like *mine*. The room feels like *ours*, which is awesome if I wanted to give up all sense of ownership and propriety - but right now, I'm straight Virginia Woolf-ing it. I want a room of my own.

I want to be able to come to a relaxing home: someplace where I've staked claim on things, someplace quiet and comfortable and friendly and comforting. I want my own four walls, which I can paint and decorate. I want my own bed and my own desk and my own collection of books. I want windows that overlook busy streets, and someone stable and reliable and fun and cool (Asia) living a stone's throw away from me.

As much as I love Rob and I appreciate the way he opened his home and family to me, right now, I just really need to get my hustle on full-tilt. I need to be doing things that get me noticed by the right people, and that will make me exorbitant amounts of money. As Crystal says all the time, "I need to get the street outta my system." But at the end of the day, when I'm done expelling all of "the street", I wanna be able to just be easy.

The other night, as Mei was driving me home, she told me that her husband, who's a criminal defense attorney, seriously advises that I stop domming. With it being an election year, the odds are good that my place of employment be raided. And despite the fact the domming and dungeons are perfectly legal, it would be in my best interest to cease and desist all money-earning activity of the sexual variety.

When I wouldn't relent, Mei became even more serious. "If something happens," she said, "call me. Don't hesitate and don't say anything. Just call me and say '911'. Lenny will get you out of jail."

Her motherly attention made me glow. "Thanks, Mei."

"No problem. Lenny does this all the time. You'd be surprised how many of his clients are prostitutes."

Without batting a lash, I laughed appreciatively. "There's one thing you don't have to worry about," I offered, "I'm definitely not going to sell drugs."

"That's good, Maria," she said, her eyes dancing as she steered clear of all the dangers on Flatbush Avenue. "That's really good to know."

*****

I'm scared of my newfound confidence and where it might lead me. Not because I didn't think it existed, or because I think it's wrong in any way - but because it's so new. I've always been very confident and very competent, but somewhere between "assertive" and "arrogant" is a line I've never allowed myself to cross. I now feel myself teetering on the brink of that line, displaying my swagger, testing out the waters - and I wonder where my bravado came from. Unlike two months ago, I save my analyzation and introspection for writing, and only act and react in real life. Unlike four months ago, I am boldly announcing what I want and how I'm going to get it - all the while being completely aware that there will be many people who disagree with me, and/or don't want me to accomplish my goals. Unlike six months ago, I've learned to let go of negative people and negative situations, and to focus on Me.

Last week, while on our way yet again to Nassau, Mei talked to me about entitlement. She said that minorities - Asians, especially - feel a need to overcompensate for our perceived inadequacies. We're taught from a young age that in America, we should expect the short end of the stick - and very rarely are we taught to demand more. She colored the same qualities and actions that I'd written off as "bratty" as "entitled." And as much as I love words, I had to face the fact that much of communication is rhetoric and semantics. Being assertive could just as much be a sign of arrogance as it could be a sign of competence; meaning is found not in a thing itself but in its context. Mei, who I respect and admire, was telling me that it's not only okay but encouragedthat I "unapologetically take what I deserve." It was up to me to figure out where her opinion stopped and truth began.

I retold this story to Texti yesterday, and found myself soaking in Mei's words. The saturation of Mei's influence was undeniable. How much of the new Maria is Mei's doing? Can she claim credit or fault for the small evolutions I've made?

Last night, after hanging out with Texti, I spent the day in bed with Rob, being vomit-inducingly saccharine sweet and lovey-dovey. On the way back to Brooklyn, I had come to the conclusion that we can only uncover in each other traits that are already there. We live as we can and as we must, and we undoubtedly brush up against each other now and again. But the sway and pull of opinions only mean as much as we let them mean, and those of strong character and moral fortitude are not so easily influenced. No where could that be more apparent than in Rob's arms, which, to the chagrin of many of my close friends and mentors, I was happily enfolded by.