Wednesday, January 31, 2007

Still waiting...


The first time I could read the teacher comments on my report card I was eight. The only critical comment was: Alice lacks initiative.

I didn't know what the word 'initiative' meant so I asked my teacher to explain it to me. She told me to go look it up. But I didn't because that takes too much initiative.

I just kept that word in my head until many months later someone, probably my brother, let slip that word in a conversation and told me what it meant.

It means my life is a spectator sport.
It means I'm always waiting for someone to rescue me.
It means I'm too pessimistic to strike out on my own, naysayers be damned.

And it means I may never get up the gumption to finally do what I really love, pragmatism and socialist tendencies be damned.

Friday, January 26, 2007

An Inconvenient Pastime

Before the new semester begins (in 2 days) I have managed to sqeeze in some more movies. I saw:

A rather wooden man with a Joker-esque face on a mission to right the wrongs of a government ignoring its moral imperatives. Rating: 5 out of 10.



Another rather wooden man with a Joker-esque face on a mission to right the wrongs of a government ignoring its moral imperatives. Rating: 9 out of 10.

Monday, January 22, 2007

Saturday, January 20, 2007

Overheard

Me: I wonder what 'Otto' is short for?

Michael: Otto isn't short for anything.

Me: Don't you think it should be short for something a little more dignified sounding?

Michael: Like, Ottototto?

Me: (laughing) I said more dignified sounding!

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

I've been busy lately...

In the last month I've watched the following:

A luchador with expensive "recreation clothes" and no ability to control his gas-passing when making sudden movements. Rating: 7 out of 10.




A world where there are no people or any other living organisms except for vegetable life. Rating: 6 out of 10.

What can only be described as a wet-dream sequence for conspiracy theorists, but headache for historians and theologians. Rating: 6 out of 10.



Painful flash-forwards of what I anticipate my life will be like slaving away in a law firm. Rating: 6 out of 10.


Alias, the movie, except instead of Jennifer Garner, the super-spy is a crazy middle-aged male scientologist. But plot lines, characters, and settings all pretty much stay the same. Rating: 5 out of 10.

Let this be a cautionary tale to you all: Don't get Blockbuster's AND Netflix unless you've got this kind of serious commitment to vegging.

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

Cinna-Buddies

My first taste of the deliciousness that is Cinnabons.
Alaberi's first trip to the funness that is Cambridgeside Mall.

And I'll refer you to Alaberi's blog for the nitty gritty since I couldn't have said it better myself, in prose or poetry.

Thursday, January 11, 2007

Disturbing News of the World

CNN recently reported on the continuing feud between Donald Trump and Rosie O'Donnell.

Today all the major news sources carried stories about David Beckham and Posh moving to LA.

Why are these things major news? What happened to the good old days when stuff like this was simply on page 10 of the living section? Seriously, does anyone else think this is disturbing?

When 'Them' is You

I hate them.

In the days I was working minimum wage I hated people who earned over $40,000 a year. Smug, selfish bastards who should be giving people like me a hand instead of buying espresso-stained living room sets from Crate and Barrel, I cursed in my head.

Although I don't earn any salary, I am the humbled owner of an espresso-stained living room set from Crate and Barrel. It was on clearance sale! And it was the display set! Don't hate me.

In the days I was overweight and binging on chocolate as my anti-depressant of choice I used to loathe skinny girls. Smug, self-satisfied biatches who think they're so great just because they wear a size 2 and still eat cheeseburgers and milkshakes, I cursed.

And now I am the humbled wearer of size 2 jeans that stay buttoned whilst I consume cheeseburgers and milkshakes. Don't hate me. Seriously, all clothing sizes have been modified for vanity's sake since 1990 so, really, my jeans are probably the equivalent of a size 6 in 1992. I'm just not that depressed anymore, ok? That's all. And big is beautiful too...

And I could go on and on about the multiple categories of people I hated, loathed, cursed, and derided in my petty little mind, only to find myself "one of them." [Insert commentary here with the word "chagrin" worked in and something about God having a sense of humor.]

But the category I dread falling into the most is the one of Mother.

I've always had a special dark little hole in my heart for mothers, especially expectant ones.

Who do they think they are? Demanding special treatment just because they're pregnant. Totally absorbed in every little burp and slurp that comes out of the various orifices of their infant. Finding various ways of displaying as many pictures of their precious bundle of joy as they can. On their desk, on their walls, on their blogs, on and on and on.

WE DON'T CARE! We don't want to talk about junior all the live-long-day. We don't want your precious bundle monopolizing the conversation when we're having lunch or coffee. We don't give a flip about your pride and joy anywhere NEAR the magnitude that you do! It's a kid. Like any billion number of kids on this earth. Its no more and no less special than any other human being, despite your obviously biased perspective.

Oh God, this will be the largest most disgusting slice of humble pie I will have to eat now that I'm pretty committed to having children. I never wanted to have kids but apparently, you have to take into account the preferences of another party when you're married. At least I have a few years to prepare myself mentally.

And now that I have officially alienated all my friends with kids or are planning to have kids in the near future, let me just say: Present company accepted! I didn't mean YOU, I meant THEM.

Saturday, January 06, 2007

A minor miracle

I updated my Law & Disorder blog finally.

Read about the schizophrenic maniac I've become due to 8-hour-a-day negotiations with blood-thirsty wolves...er, I mean, my fellow law students.

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

Love at Harvard


This Korean mini-series is the WORST thing I have ever seen. Period.

I've been watching it regularly to improve my Chinese (it's dubbed in Mandarin so, yes, the mouths don't match the voices). But I find myself getting oddly addicted to it...


It's like a train-wreck, so horrible, you can't look away. Anyone looking for a good guffaw and endless chuckles, look no further.