My 12th grade English teacher once told me that you know you're a writer when you tend to perceive the world through metaphors. Needless to say, I was pretty tickled with this assessment. I may as well have been on my knees before her, looking humbly up at her, donned in her PhD regalia, as she lowered her sword (or pen – mightier?) on each of my shoulders, 'I dub you, Heather, Sir Writer.' Oh, the self-satisfaction. The indomitable pride…

Enter, years later, the exiest man alive. (Not to be mistaken with a rhyming word beginning with "s". Ex-y, as in, just the sort you ought to break up with straightaway). There we were, gazing out at the (otherwise romantic) sunset ---
Me: It's almost like a painting it's so surreally beautiful.
Him: (in his exiest voice) What is wrong with you? It's right in front of you! A painting is a depiction of this. There's nothing surreal about reality.

Alright. He had a point. Maybe seeing the world through metaphors (and similes) all the time isn't the greatest thing if it means that you're always at least one step away from reality. It wouldn't be good to, say, only look at things in a mirror, rather than straight on. Is the world I see every day a copy of a copy?

Clever or idiotic, this is just how I make sense of my existence, by drawing comparisons between two otherwise unrelated things. Why be realistic when you can be so synaptically bonkers?

For example: I've been dealing with a lot of legal questions recently regarding Web 2.0. In case you haven't noticed, the Information Superhighway has gone a bit autobahn. Awesome, but, sort of scary, and I feel like my client is in potential danger playing about out there. My perception: a man, standing on the edge of a steep cliff with lots of snapping, snarling things hungrily pacing below. I've got a hammer, nails, and all the boards I need, and with these tools my inclination is to build a wall to keep him from falling off. This basically boils down to my saying 'No' to almost everything my client wants to do with Web 2.0.

But this won't do at all. I've got a client with a lot to offer the world, and what good are they going to do hovering and shivering on the edge of a cliff? Safe, but, useless! So I've started to perceive my job as using the tools to build strong, reliable bridges (with handrails, natch), stairs, and pathways – a veritable Swiss Family Robinson assortment of tree-top decking. Now, every time they ask if they can do something, I immediately picture a man standing on the edge of the cliff, scratching his head, bored and useless, and I think to myself, "If I'm a good lawyer, I will be able to build him a strong bridge." And seeing things this way actually inspires me to try harder.

Dear Me at 17,
You tend to see the world through metaphors. Cool! Now, learn to rein that cuckoo brain in, because (SPOILER ALERT) when you do eventually get paid to write, your options will be: legalese or (yawn) "plain language." Enjoy.
Love,
Me at 28

Dear Me at 28,
I will never be that old. I'm going to go watch Party of Five, now.
Love,
Me at 17