Girl Gone Mild

Spring Break! WoooooHooooo!!!

I'm flying to Puerto Vallarta for a few days of sun, siesta, and swimming! Beachside mai-tai, coming right up.

Actually, that's not true.

I'm staying in the US but going to a fabulous luxury resort in Arizona to get massages and body wraps till I'm blue in the face.

Well...that's not true either.

I'm actually just staying in Boston, catching up on school work that I fell behind in. And the highlight of my day is the hour when King of Queens airs back-to-back on UPN.

Yeah, bet you believe that.

Celebrity Fest

Sometimes I think it must be really hard to be a celebrity.

You have to face the mockery of random strangers who post your picture on their blogs and say mean things like:


Nicole Richie: An experiment gone wrong
(a.k.a. What happens when a chihuahua and a rat have a crack baby.)


Keira Knightley: Posterchild for the "Major Underbiters Can Still Majorly Overachieve" Club


SJP: When horse faces happen to good people.


Britney Spears: The best argument for forced-sterilization yet.


K-Fed: The second best argument for forced-sterilization.
My deepest apologies to all these celebrities that I made fun of here...and to all you many more that I frequently slander in my head. I'm sorry but I just can't help it--It's like shooting fish in a barrel!

Law and Disorder Updated

Some gave up hope that I would ever post another law school blog entry again...but I'm happy to report that they're wrong.

Is monogamy too cruel a rule?

Why can't men have more than one wife?


For centuries, in major civilizations around the world, societies have freely accepted the idea of polygamy.

What king, what rich man, what lord didn't have a harem?

I think it is only the Christian notion that one man should have only one wife that has spawned a frowning upon the institution of polygamy. And yet, I can't think of any Bible verses that explicitly say: One man should only have one wife.

All that comes to mind are Abraham and his many wives; Jacob and his many wives; and King David and, yup, you guessed it, his many wives. So if God doesn't approve of polygamy, why didn't he smite them for having multiple mistresses?

Are we wired for variety in our spousal relationships? And if it's ok for men to have many wives, is it ok for women to have many husbands?

In the mood for some "Nacho"

Sometimes pop culture actually produces stuff that I find interesting. Like Jack Black's new film, Nacho Libre. I have high hopes for it (even though the trailor suggests it might flop) because the man who brought us Napoleon Dynamite is also behind this movie.


I have to say, I am a thousand times more excited about seeing the masked Mexican menace, Nacho, than that clownish looking terrorist in V for Vendetta. I don't know why I'm so dismissive of movies that try to be serious and ponderous. But it's like, you're trying to be so deep, you're just over doing everything.

Depth is in the everyday things, the little things, the unspoken things...the inarticulable things. It's a subtlety that gets totally trampled on with the "big-booted" efforts of "serious" movie makers like the Wajowski Brothers (sp?).

When you keep things light you let the truth of the matter shine through, instead of forcing it out like some metaphysical meat grinder.

Our Siblings, Ourselves.

Right before I was about to walk down the aisle, my brother popped his head into my waiting area and said,

"You know sister, it's not too late..."

By which he meant, "You can still call off this wedding!"

What a horribly unnerving thing to say to a bride who's had perpetual cold feet. But it made me laugh...albeit somewhat nervously.


Growing up my brother was like a surrogate parent to me since both my parents worked long hours everyday. He cooked me after-school snacks...usually something from a can; he monitored my TV watching...by sitting on me until I surrendered the remote; he helped me with school reports late into the night; and he even swept my hair up in a bun every Tuesday and Thursday so that I could hop into my mom's car as soon as she honked the horn to drop me off at ballet lessons, just in the nick of time.

Once, in grade school, I was distraught because I had no Halloween costume to wear to class the following day. I knew there would be a school-wide parade where all the kids would snake in and out of classrooms, showing off their costumes. And I, all alone, would be costume-less.

The next morning I awoke to find two home-made costumes in the living room. Apparently, my brother had stayed up into the wee hours of the night (like one of those little cobbler elves) and made us matching costumes! He had cut neck-holes and arm-holes in two large brown paper bags (one for him, one for me) and attached all kinds of aluminum foil ornaments to it.

"What is that?" I asked him.

"It's your costume." he replied.

"What am I supposed to be?...a garbage can?" (yes, even back then I was cynical and harsh).

"No. You're a robot." he answered.

And to this day, my stomach feels queasy with guilt and pain when I remember what I said next. But for a kid who dreamed of princesses and unicorns, this was understandably not my cup of tea.

"What?!," I exclaimed, "I'm not going to wear this! I'll look stupid! And I don't want to match you!"

I've always felt ambivalent about having kids. But I know that if I have one, I will definitely try to have two.

Why would you want your kid to miss out on this?

More growing up...

Life has been busy and largely uninspiring as of late.


I've been feeling like I have to put away my childish preferences and immerse myself with boring adult things, like taxes, corporations, insolvency, etc. *pop* *pop*...that's the sound of me putting my eyes out with a pencil.

I feel like the 6 o'clock child who has to put away all her toys. It's time to do your homework. It's time to do the chores. But instead of waiting just 12 hours for playtime to roll around again, I must wait 12 years? a lifetime?

I've always been taught that if you can do what you don't hate, your life is fine. You maybe can't do what you love, but at least you don't hate it. But I've always envied those people who say, "I can't believe they pay me to do my job. I love it so much, I'd do it even if they didn't pay me."

What a trip. Who says that? The few, the lucky, the really, really lucky.

On growing up...

I believe that one of the greatest lessons a parent can teach a child is how to lose well.

Anyone can win with no problems, but few know the secret to losing.

Most people, myself included, fear losing like the plague. Some who have experienced it withdraw from trying altogether. And still others never get up from off the ground, defeated in spirit and will.

Not knowing how to be a good loser has cost me some of my best potential friendships. I remember numerous roomates in college that I just refused to hang out with because they always made me feel inferior in comparison. You know the type. Effortlessly perfect in all they do, constantly swarmed by a crowd of boys like too many electrons around the nucleus of a super-charged ion.

My brother always jokingly blamed his lack of a girlfriend on my inability to make friends with really cute, smart girls. There's truth in that.

I've met some amazing people this year and I hope I can continually fight the urge to run the other way when I see them. It's hard being the metaphorical 'fattest girl in the room', but I'm learning.

I'm learning about that which makes us human and the lack of which no external factor may sufficiently substitute for, namely, inherent worth.

How to squeeze water from a rock

Having been thoroughly jaded from a lifetime of TV watching, it is a fact that nothing makes me cry. Not movies, not sappy tv-dramas, nothing, nada, zilch.

Except...reality TV shows.

I can't even get through the commercial plugs for these shows without tearing up. If you ever want a fail proof way to make Christina turn on the waterworks, just show any of these following shows:





I just saw a little of American Inventor which started airing tonight and within literally one minute, tears were streaming down my face. Dang they're good!

Another self-gratifying survey

4 Jobs I've Had:

1. Hostess at Mel's Diner

2. Piano Teacher for students age 4 to 64!

3. Bank Teller

4. Web Programmer (my favorite job ever)


4 Movies I Could Watch Over 'n Over:

1. Ghost World

2. Napoleon Dynamite

3. ?

4. ? I really hate watching things more than once.


4 Books I've Read Over 'n Over:

I guess this would be the time to confess that I don't read books. And if I do, I wouldn't read them more than once. So shoot me, I'm a philistine. Wait...do catalogues count? I'm going to pretend they do...

1. J.Crew

2. Crate & Barrel

3. Land's End

4. Victoria's Secrets (it has normal clothes too, not just lingerie!)


4 Places I've Lived:

1. Cupertino, CA

2. Berkeley, CA

3. Escondido, CA

4. Boston, MA


4 Places I've Vacationed:

1. Maui

2. All over Europe

3. Uganda

4. All over China


4 TV Shows I Love:

1. Law & Order, The Original

2. King of Queens (my guilty pleasure)

3. The Office (BBC)

4. Arrested Development


4 Favorite Dishes:

1. Spaghetti with meatballs!

2. Filet mignon

3. Fresh lobster tail!

4. Garlic bread...mmm...


4 Websites I Visit Daily:

1. Blogs that I link to

2. Weather

3. TV Guide

4. Old Navy


4 Places I'd Rather Be Right Now:

1. On a carribean island

2. Done with law school

3. Out of debt

4. At a dinner party with my favorite people


4 Things That Make Me Warmly Happy:

1. Flipping through catalogues.

2. Eating my favorite meals while watching my favorite shows.

3. Shopping.

4. Old, nostalgic Christmas scenes of the "perfect" family.

The worst night of my life

Last night I really thought I was going to die.

I lay in bed, crumpled up in a fetal position, moaning in pain. I had THE worst stomach cramps in the history of mankind. All night. I barely slept a wink.

And when I awoke I had fever aches all over and diarrhea. Stomach-flu. Argh.

By 3:00 in the afternoon, I was starving and dehydrated and tried to eat some cereal. That was a bad idea. It came right back out...the other end.

Death by congeniality

So far, I've done a bad job of following my heart.


The childhood-me would be shocked and disappointed to see the present-me on the pathway to surburbia, the one place that Christina-the-child wanted to get the hell away from...and never return.

In my youth I remember detesting the clean sidewalks and ubiquitous mini-vans parked in front of two-and-a-half bedrooms and baths. I hated doting parents, I hated strip malls, and most of all, I hated how utterly anti-septic and predictable everything and everyone was. The stifling conformity of it all. The fresh black asphalt with perfectly painted straight yellow and white lines.

Suburbia, where imagination goes to die.

But isn't that what naturally happens when you have kids? You start thinking about raising them in a good school district, a low-crime, kiddie-safe environment...and before you know it: POOF! You have become your parents.

I already have a spouse and am halfway there to getting a boring-yet-secure job. Eventually the kids will come...and then I will be banished to Surburbia.

What is that I smell? I think it's the stench of death...and fresh asphalt.

My so called life

I'm so tired.

Studying night and day sure does make jack a dull boy and jill a dull girl (or however that nursery rhyme goes...I don't even care that I mispelled rhyme...or did I?)


Of course I've had my occasional TV-related breaks, but they really can't substitute for a life. I justify watching TV only by eating while watching. That has resulted in an overconsumption of food in order to prolong my watching time.

And I watch whatever stupid crap is on too. My favorite stupid-crap show features a Wisconsonite woman who does sewing/quilting projects on PBS. She talks like the Target lady on SNL. That's how 'real' Wisconsinners talk. Kind of like the characters in Fargo.

"Thank you for joining our show today. Most of the patterns today are featured in my new book, Sew Chic Chenille."

I've always wanted to learn how to sew. I'm a very crafty person. I like to make things with my hands...especially fabric-related things.

I once asked my brother to buy me a sewing machine. It broke in a few months and I never had the chance to get it fixed. That was back in college. Now I have no time to do stuff like that. I probably never will again. Sorry brother, I guess you were right when you questioned my request for a sewing machine. You said I'd never use it...like all the other gifts you bought me.

But that's not true! You bought me a black wool hat once and I wear that to school everyday. It's the only good winter hat I own...and very necessary outside of California.

And the guitar you bought me! I play that almost every week.

Object d'arte

Survey says...

1. Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, and find line 4. What does it say?

"Intel has my sympathy...[However,] [b]ecause plaintiff Intel has not shown that defendant Hamidi's occasional bulk e-mail messages..."

2. Stretch your left arm out as far as you can. What can you touch?

Only my Torts textbook and green leather paper weight.

3. What is the last thing you watched on TV?

Law & Order, Season 5, Episode 1.

4. Without looking, guess what time it is:

4:25pm

5. Now look at the clock. What is the actual time?

4:23pm (I'm not that good at keeping time, I just have a habit of looking at the clock every 10 minutes).

6. With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?

My clock ticking. The wind outside my window.

7. When did you last step outside? What were you doing?

This morning. I made my once-a-week trip to the gym and stopped by CVS to buy more Burt's Beeswax Balm, which my cracked lips can't live without.

8. Before you started this survey, what did you look at?

Some statutes about comparative negligence.

9. What are you wearing?

Go Bears! I'm wearing my "California Berkeley" t-shirt and shorts and long white socks pulled all the way up to my calves. Yes, I'm a dork.

10. Did you dream last night?

No? Maybe?

11. When did you last laugh?

Yesterday night...I have no idea over what.

12. What is on the walls of the room you are in?

A gi-normous bulletin board with all kinds of schedules and assignments from school and a calendar which I mildly disdain, but bought out of desperation. It's not very aesthetically pleasing and has random pictures of Provence on it.

13. Seen anything weird lately?

Yeah. Michael just bought groceries and I saw he bought celery. We never eat celery. Ever. And then as I went to put it away in the fridge I saw an old bag of celery that I never saw before. What's going on?! I don't know him anymore.

14. What do you think of this quiz?

I like it. Mildly amused.

15. What is the last film you saw?

Hmmm...Maybe it was March of the Penguins.

In the theatre?

Star Wars III: Revenge of the Sith. Yes, it's been a long time.

16. If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy?

Immediately, I would buy a power suit (for job interviews and arguing in court). Then mutual funds. Yeah, I know, bo-ring.

17. Tell me something about you that I don't know.

There's a lot about me you don't know... Let's see... I LOVE my new swiffer.

18. If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do?

Huh? I don't get this question. I would spread love and harmony around...I guess.

19. Do you like to dance?

Oh yeah!

20. George Bush:

Old.

21. Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?

I have no idea. I've been racking my brain for years trying to think of a name I like.

22. Imagine your first child is a boy, what do you call him?

I chose the name Michael weeks before I met my husband Michael. And now that I'm married to Michael I can't call our son Michael because husband-Michael doesn't want to have a 'junior'. So, now I have no idea what I would name my boy.

23. Would you ever consider living abroad?

Sure...why not. But it has to be a big city.

24. What do you want God to say to you when you reach the pearly gates?

Welcome home child.

25. 4 people who must also do this quiz in THEIR journal:

Whoever should be so inclined. (Might I suggest: Akanekid, Pegpie, Beckett, and Tiptoptam).

1 Man, 11 Women, 14 Kids

What do they all have in common?

The man is the father of all 14 kids. Well...not actually "father", more like sperm donor.

That's right, all the women chose that one particular man's sperm because he described himself as 6'4'', brown hair, tans well, and loves his mother (among other things).

Now all the women have apparently come together and formed a special bond with each other. It's like one big, wierd, happy family. (I saw it on the Today Show).

I'm tempted to sell my eggs for a pretty penny sometimes. Just think. One little trip to the clinic and boom! You can afford a Louis Vuitton purse...and maybe even a little Burberry scarf to go with it. Well, more realistically, the 6-10k would go toward rent and food and tuition...but a few more trips to the clinic and why would I ever need to work again? As long as I'm biologically able, why can't I keep laying my literal financial nest eggs?

Why not? Because it's just creepy thinking about all the little "you"s running around. As individualistically oriented as our society is, you still can't shake the common moral intuition that, well...frankly, the essence of "you" is in your reproductive stuff.

Now that the vanguard of "independent" women using sperm donors are now watching their kids become teenagers, they too are realizing that you can't ignore the essence of human identity -- that it goes beyond the biological.

Their teens are now angry and confused, wanting desperately to know who their fathers are. Who can blame them? Essentially, they want to know who they are. As much as our culture may tell us that YOU decide who you are, YOU are an individual, and YOU are the master of your own identity; our inner voice tells us different.

You are half your "mom" and half your "dad" (even though more often than not, we hope we are more than just the sum of our parts).