A Perfect Day...

...begins at A Perfect Day Spa with an hour-long deep tissue massage (fobby and cheap--just how I like it),

And then some pho at a 4-Yelp-star hole-in-the-wall,

And then this phenomenal movie in which Meryl shows off her kick-ass acting chops. Philip Seymour Hoffman, a grade-A actor in his own right, becomes the perfect foil against which Meryl shines with the lustre of a consummate professional at the top of her game.


Although the movie is by no means a comedy, I found myself laughing more often and lustily than when watching any given SNL episode. The truth is funny!

Or it maybe its cuz SNL sucks now...

Tis the Season: Jesus v. Santa

This picture captures the essence of the holiday season for me (albeit in a very blasphemous way--my apologies to those who are very serious about the 2nd commandment).

This year Christmas totally snuck up on me. It doesn't even FEEL like Christmas. Maybe it's because the last 3 years I've been in Boston where it actually starts LOOKING like the quintessential winter wonderland during December. And now, this beautiful California weather is just not giving my brain the cues it needs.

But I think the real reason is because I'm working. School has such a nice rhythm, whith its big long Christmas breaks. But now that I'm a cog, it's the daily grind every day except Christmas Day and the day after. Christmas is no more special than Thanksgiving--that's a big blow to Christmas.

Or maybe the real reason is cuz I'm dead inside. I've heard that firm life can do that to a person.

The Office Party

Last Saturday M and I went to my firm's Holiday Party. It was my first corporate party so I was mildly excited.

Not much to report. It was unremarkable. Here's a quick summary: loud music; awkward conversation--smile, nod head, smile, sip champagne, repeat; and rubbery appetizers.

No wonder people get drunk at these events! The uncomfortableness of the whole situation would drive anyone to the bottle.

I guess working at a fancy law firm, I expected something better--fireworks and luxury! But apparently the overarching theme for our party was A Very Merry Recession: A Low Budget Affair!

But there was one big upside, M and I took a nice Christmas picture. It'll be a top contender for the cover of our Couple's Christmas Card 2009.

Odds and Ends

I'm not sure if its all the bad economic news,
or just my naturally pessimistic nature,
but I've been feeling a cloud of dread about my job.

Like any day the other shoe will drop and I'll be sent packing.

Actually I think it's all the internet surfing I do at work. (And the 6-hour work days). Those just seem like good bases upon which to get fired, don't they? I should be doing more training or administrative tasks, but I just can't find it within me to do boring things that no one explicitly assigns me!

Anyway, amidst all the job ups and downs here are some slices of life:

Michael and I celebrate passing the bar by going miniature golfing, something I haven't done since highschool. And now I know why...not very fun as an adult.


Soaked in a bathtub for the first time (with Crabtree & Evelyn bath salts and inflatable pillow).


The water was too hot. I felt like a poaching egg. Not as relaxing as I hoped.


Meet the newest love of my life. Got it from a guy off craigslist who had no idea what the true value of this 6'foot hunk of gorgeousness is. Let's just say I basically got an 80% discount.

Mauritania!

Mauritania is the answer to all our problems!


Mauritania is a land where up is down! Black is white! And big is beautiful! (Ok, only the last statement is true.)

Yes, that small country in the northwestern region of Africa has the opposite cultural ideal of beauty than that which is held by pretty much the rest of the world. Plump women are considered gorgeous, and skinny (or "scrawny" as they call it) women are disgusting.

Young girls are force-fed cous-cous and fatty milk until they vomit and then force-fed some more! This ritual causes all kinds of unhealthful side-effects in older women, as one can well imagine--high blood pressure, high cholesterol, diabetes, etc.

But Oprah couldn't get enough of it. I saw her show on "beauty around the world," which had a segment on Mauritania and she could not hide her fascination with this place in which her long-battled gut would actually be a boon and not a curse.

She was so overjoyed she burst out into song, "There's a place for us...Somewhere a place for us..."

Sure Oprah would fit right in to Mauritania, but what about naturally scrawny girls? Isn't that the problem with cultural ideals of beauty (no matter how much they may vary from culture to culture)?

Someone, somewhere is always ugly.

Memento

Once in a while I'll find words and phrases that I really like. Thought it would be nice to remember them on my blog.

"She is comfort; loving like an embrace.
Her eyes look like home."
~Anonymous

Clearing the Bar

Crisis averted! I'm alive and well. PTL and thank you Jesus!

Help Me Gentle Reader

This week has been a rather slow week for me so I actually have a chance to post an entry before I zonk out for the day! I'll take this opportunity to ask you, my classy readers, about a burning question I face everyday.

Question: When you step into your office building (and it's just you there at the moment) should you greet the security person?


Everyday when I walk in the building I start worrying about what to do as I walk by the security person's desk. I'm almost always alone (I get to work late) and it's almost always the same guy. Tall, Asian, young, nerdy, nice looking fellow.

At first I avoided his gaze 'cuz I thought he was smiling a bit too eagerly. But then I noticed some of my officemates greeting Asian Guy as they walked past. Was I remiss not to do the same?

Tomrrow will be the 49th time I walk by. Isn't it too late to start saying hello?

What Life?

Work has officially taken over my life.


For the last 3 weeks, besides for a half-hour of tv here or there, I basically wake up, work for 10-12 hours, eat dinner (read: food that came in a can) and zonk out.

I've given up on taking lunches too. Lunch. What is that? That's a foreign concept to me. It sounds vaguely familiar...

My desk is stashed with nutrition bars, nuts, chocolate, and the occasional dried fruit package. It's like Survivor, the desk-drawer edition.

And you know what?

It's still ok with me.

I like what I do. I like the people I work with (for the most part). And I still like not thinking about making personal choices. If I could only work in a few more fresh fruits and vegetables here and there, things would actually be pretty perfect.

And friends. I miss my friends.

The Bearable Burden of Working

These last two weeks have been a blur of long hours and lots of work, work, work.

Although I've gotten both weekends off, I can't seem to make it home on the weekdays until about 8pm on average.

Last Thursday I didn't get home until 2am!

And as I was blearily making my way out of the building, the partner called after me, "Make sure you check your Blackberry during the night and we might call you on your cell phone!"

I am officially pwnd.


And you know what? It's totally ok with me.

For now.

I kind of like checking my "self" at the door and not having to think about how to fill my free time. Free time is kind of a headache anyway. Too much of it and I always get to a point where I start navel gazing and asking myself:

"Where is my life going? What am I doing with myself? Maybe I should up and join a travelling music group? What are my dreams (a la Oprah)? Am I fulfilled? Should I even care about that?"

There's nothing like a butt-load of due diligence and contract proofing to push all those nagging thoughts and insecurities right out my mind!

And ironically, I still find the time to surf JCrew online and continue to amass a kickass wardrobe!

The Unbearable Lightness of "Working"

This week has been among the most stressful I've ever had in my working life.

I'm sure everyone has experienced the stress of having too much to do in too little time. But to know real stress, try having NOTHING to do.

I don't think I worked more than two hours this entire week. Oh I still showed up and sat at my desk from 9 to 5, but I definitely turned my monitor away from the doorway so no one would walk by and see the new J.Crew sale items emblazoned on my monitor. Or the cute new shoes at Target. Or the pretty fall basics at the Gap. You get the idea.

The whole time I'm internet shopping under duress I'm thinking three things:

(1) Any moment now, the partner is going to have a talk with me and "let me go."

(2) When the other two new associates come in a couple weeks, how can we possibly split this 2 hour work week between the three of us?!

(3) I wonder if I should move to a firm in which I'll actually learn some real skills instead of being a very well paid chair warmer...

But on the plus side, I'm slowly amassing a pretty kick-ass wardrobe.

The Simple Life

Working everyday has simplified my life significantly.

I no longer find myself wondering: What shall I do now?

Shall I watch another episode of What Not to Wear?
Shall I go to the craft store to get some new yarn?
Shall I visit my friends/family/relatives?

Nope--all those decisions and more are conclusively and pre-emptively answered for me. I wake up, go to work, come home, eat, watch tv, and go to bed.

The weekends are a little trickier, but basically one day is for chores, the other is for rest. Not too complicated.

This weekend M and I went to my office to decorate it and took some pics.

My bare office. Note the sliding glass door which leads to...


The terrace of my office and its spectacular view:


Another great view from the conference room:


For all the stuffiness of the legal profession, I certainly do work in a place of beauty and light. How ironic.

Another One Bites the Dust

I started my job last week and my worst nightmare came true.

But thankfully not for me.

The nightmare is that I would arrive at work and for some reason they would tell me to pack my bags cuz there was no more job for me!

Although this didn't happen to me, it happened to several new associates who worked for a firm right across the street from mine. Apparently Heller Ehrman, a top 50 firm with 14 offices all over the world has bit the dust.

I went to work amidst a buzz of "Did you hear what happened?!" as the 118 year old San Franciscan firm voted to dissolve the day I started work.

I had to sit back and take it all in. And count my lucky stars.

I had interviewed with Heller in 2006. I really wanted to work for them. They ranked high in diversity, woman-friendliness, and prestige--AND they were a native Californian firm. What could be better? (Having a job to go to, that's what!)

If Heller had extended an offer to me, there is a good chance I would've taken it. And the unhappy recent law grad sending out resumes during a recession--there's a good chance that would've been me too.

But for grace.

Do you hear the people sing?

I'm a pretty passive and lazy person. But it finally happened.

I finally felt so pissed off at a company that I crossed over my incredibly high barrier of inertia and wrote a bad customer review.

Yes, today I have joined to ranks of The People and added my voice to that great swell at epinions.com.

Against corporate greed! Against unfair practices! Against injustice! I feel like Norma f'ing Rae.

Here's my review:

CONSUMER FRAUD ALERT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
by onaxos, Sep 23 '08

I have never written a customer review before, but I am compelled to now because stamps.com is SO HORRIBLE.

They are completely MISLEADING about how much you will pay for their services. Their practices border on FRAUD.

It shocked me when I got an $18 charge on my credit card from them when I only bought around $4 worth of stamps. WTF?! Only after I called them on the phone did I realize there WAS a monthly service fee at all!!!

The phone operator said I should've been aware of the fees because it is mentioned on their website. Ha! Good luck finding it in the fine print, buried under paragraphs of text! Never is it up front and in a font that commands the attention it deserves!

The website is SOOOO misleading! If you had to devote that much attention to every service you used, you could drive back and forth from the post office everyday and still have time leftover!

Total ripoff. Totally misleading. I would totally report this horrible company to the better business bureau.

Gulp

I admit it. I am a straight up 'frady cat. (Otherwise known as a scaredy cat.)

It finally dawned on me in my late-20's that I am, by default, always afraid--or nervous, stressed, anxious, whatever you call it. I used to think only special incidents brought on my sense of dread, but looking back over the last few years, I have to say it was pretty constant.

In undergrad I was afraid I wouldn't graduate. After graduating and getting odd-jobs, I was always afraid I would get fired. And then in law school I always harbored a secret dread that I would get a letter from the registrar's office stating something like: "We rescind your acceptance. There was an unfortunate clerical error. Please leave."

And after law school I was afraid I wouldn't be able to find a decent job. And now that I'm about to start my job in just 3 short days, guess what? Suprise surprise: I'm afraid!

I'm afraid I won't live up to my employer's expectations. I'm afraid I'll annoy people by asking too many questions. I'm afraid I'll annoy myself because I asked too few questions.

I'm afraid my bosses will look down on me if I don't speak up in meetings. And I'm afraid I'll look stupid when I do open my mouth.

I'm afraid I'll dress too casually and frumpy. But I'm afraid I'll look too boring and uppity if I were a suit.

And I'm ultimately afraid that after busting my butt for 6 months, I'll get a bad performance review that feels like it came out of left-field cuz no one TOLD me that I was doing something that should be changed.

And I'll be the weakest link among my peers.

And basically hate my job.

10 (New) Things I Like About You!

You think you really know someone, but then you live with them for a while and find out some interesting facts. Although I've known Alaberi for 3 years, I found out some quirky things from her recent visit:


1. She blogs right away! No procrastinating for this girl. Even if it's 1AM in the morning, she's uploading away. That's why her account of her visit is so much better than my nonexistent one (since I procrastinated too long!).


2. She was a Claymate. Was. She's now a Wang-Lee-Hom-mate.


3. But she wouldn't marry Lee Hom even if he proposed because he's "too hot" (her words, not mine).


4. She loves shoes and bags. And jewelry. My kind of gal.


5. She gets giddy when about to bake. And loves to share her joy.


6. She loves washing dishes!

7. She can sight-sing like a pro.


8. Joe Biden bores her to death.

9. She knows (or knows someone who knows) every single Asian Christian in NYC, Bay Area, and Hong Kong.

10. She's an awesome friend and great sister. (Ok, that's not something new--I've known that for a while now!)

What's new?

I'm so proud of my tech-retarded self for finally installing a subscription feeder on my blog.

Now you can get an email anytime my blog is updated so you don't have to keep checking my blog whilst waiting for my lazy ass to write a new entry.

Just type in your email address in the sidebar, hit "subscribe," and you're good to go!

Also why Palin is a brilliant choice...

Not just because of the unhappy die-hard Hillary fans,
Not just because she excites the Republican base,

But because she gives people further permission to vote for a white man over a black man.


Maybe I'm too cynical, but I believe that private racism is still alive and well in the US. Yes we've all but stamped it out in our institutions and laws (at least facially), but one cannot easily dissolve such an insidious practice that goes to the heart of the human condition.

Since the days of Cain and Abel, man has hated man--and will probably continue to do so until kingdom come. Whether over family, tribe, race, or religion, it is human nature to hate the "other."

Although we may "evolve" gradually, I don't believe that after decades of slavery, a mere fifty years of Civil Rights progress have radically changed the private hearts and minds of a significant number of white Americans.

So Palin gives people a free moral pass: I'm not racist, I voted for the white guy because I'm pro-woman!

But as politically brilliant a choice as Palin may be, I don't think it's enough for McCain to stop the Obama-train.

Anyone who gets more viewership than the American Idol Finale is pretty much unstoppable at this point!

(p.s. I don't by any means want to imply that people who vote for McCain are racist. In fact that's the beauty of choosing Palin, that's the whole point: It further obscures the race factor by putting the gender card in play.)

Hot Meals

We all know how food and cooking can be rife with double entendres (Swetty Balls anyone?) But nowhere is that more blatant than on Down Home with the Neelys on the Food Network.


At first the Neelys appear to be the black couple version of Paula Deen--big comfort food with a generous helping of Southern charm. But a few minutes into the show, you realize it's more like hour-long foreplay with bacon toppings.

I couldn't stop watching cuz I couldn't believe how ridiculously overt the romance'n was! To wit:

Pat (husband--while getting a meatloaf from the oven): Mmmm...I always got the meat baby, and you always my sauce, oh yeah.

Gina (while measuring out ingredients for cupcakes): Can you pass me the sugar baby?
Pat: Oh yeah, I got your sugar. I always got your sugar.

Gina (while adding cheese to a sauce): Come over here and taste this sauce Pat.
Pat: Mmmm...I know now I've been a good boy.
Gina: Oh yeah, you've been a very good boy. See it pays to be a good boy. (To tv audience) See, you got to hit your man 3 ways: the heart, the ???, and the stomach!

I expected them to start ripping each others' clothes off halfway through the show!

There's obviously something very sensual about the cooking process (which would explain why the French and Italians are so good at it)...

So for all you guys out there who think the kitchen is only for the ladies, I'll end this post with a parting insight/double entendre from Gina: "See men, it pays to cook with your woman!"

Where the Forest Meets the Ocean

I just spent 4 days camping in one of the most beautiful and breath-taking environments in the world: Limekiln State Park in Big Sur.




Camping is a first for Michael and I, but thank goodness we had the expertise of Brian (Bryan?) and Peggy to help us out.


Peggy did an excellent job with the food... (Mmmm camp food--bbq, sausages, pancakes, and smores every night!)


and I helped make salads :-)


We played tons of board games--including the 2008 Best Geek Game of the year: Agricola (that's what happens when both your brothers own a game store),


...read books (And I realized I don't like reading, again. I blame tivo.),


...and went on some amazing hikes.

One of the best features of Limekiln are the several babbling brooks and streams that flowed throughout the hiking trails and even right by our tents. Talk about having a great white-noise maker while you sleep!


And another fun feature was the numerous fallen trees that criss-crossed the streams. Michael and I ventured out on some high logs...


and quickly lost our courage to stand back up.


Peggy and Brian got much further out.


So much fun--thanks Enderles!

The Old Couple

You know how you sometimes see an elderly couple on tv, still holding hands, taking a walk, etc. and you think: that's so sweet, I want to grow old with someone I love?

Well, it's all sweet and nice until you start becoming that old couple with all the old people aches and pains that comes with it.


Although Michael and I are only near our thirties, we constantly tell ourselves, "We are not young anymore!" How do you know you're getting old? Two words: chronic injury. Your body just doesn't heal as quickly or completely as it used to.

Michael has a chronic injury in his wrist from too much mouse-clicking/typing, and I have a chronic ankle injury from too many twisted ankles from tripping while wearing skyscraper platforms (in my youth--while I went clubbing, ha--there's something I never ever do anymore!).

And every so often I'll beg Michael to rub my aching ankle that flares-up out of nowhere and he will graciously oblige. But inevitably, he always has to take a break because it causes his gimpy wrists to ache...

...and then he'll ask if I would go down to grab him an ice-pack for his wrist...

...and then I always so "No, because going down the stairs would exacerbate my ankle."

And there you have it: two old farts lying around the house with achy joints on a Friday night.

Not so cute.

Bi-Polar in the Bay

Since the bar exam, my vacation has been a bit of an emotional roller-coaster ride. To wit:

1. Right after the last day of the bar I was UP. It was over!!!!!! The hardest 8 weeks of my life was finally over!!!!!

2. The next morning I was DOWN. Re-adjusting to "civilian" life and facing the mountain of stuff I had left undone for 8 weeks was overwhelming. Boxes to unpack, people to see, email to catch up on, domestic duties to resume, ugh.

3. That whole week I self-medicated with hours of tv: UP while watching, DOWN when the shows ended and the sun set without any real productivity on my part.

4. Celebrating my brother's 31st birthday: UP! One of the best things about being back in the Bay is living close to my bro again. No one gets you like a sibling.


5. Visiting UC Berkeley with the Golden Ones (my nickname for the most sun-kissed, blonde, and mellowed San Diegans I know): UP

I plan to put up some black and white pics of my favorite school all around my new apartment for some tasteful and personal decor. (Shout out to Mandi for giving me the idea with her gorgeous UCLA prints).



6. Organizing 10 years worth of accumulated crap (mostly clothing and documents): DOWN

Throwing away trashbags-full of crap: UP

7. Celebrating 5 years of marital bliss at Golden Gate Park: UP


Did you know that Golden Gate Park is larger than Central Park in NYC? But the largest urban park in America is Forest Park in St. Louis. I always thought Central Park was the biggest, but now I wonder what other urban parks also beat out CP. Know of any?

A highlight of GGP: The Japanese Garden. A beautiful jewel-box from every angle.


8. Realizing that my calendar is pretty much booked-up until I start work in late Sept: DOWN

Why can't my life be like this forever? I'm so dreading work. I think it's mostly fear of the unknown although I have been told that my demeanor is not professional enough for the workplace!

I talk too loud, I laugh too much, I tell politically incorrect jokes about being the recipient of affirmative action. Blah, blah, blah.

I'm determined to transform myself into a more demure and proper automaton. I shall express myself only through fabulous shoes and handbags and the occasional funky sweater-vest.

The Olympic Boob Prize

Europeans often complain about how rude and culturally ignorant Americans are.

We "stupid" Americans are so idiotic driving our gas guzzling SUVs and shopping at gigantic Walmarts that trod on quaint stores of character and charm. We apparently don't know the first thing about geography or math (or food, sex, philosophy, foreign affairs, history, ok...anything of significance really) and couldn't even tell you who the PM of the UK is. Not Tony Blair?

But I don't think any American would be rude or ignorant enough to do what this one European team did:

Ouch. For a promo-shot in anticipation of the Olympics in Beijing? Can it get any more tacky than that? How about for a reprise, showing up to a future Olympics in an African city in blackface?!

Everytime I look at it I want to laugh at how idiotic it is, but I can't because of how idiotic it is.

There's only 2 possible interpretations. Either the Spanish men's basketball team is being maliciously racist, or they are the biggest boobs on the world scene.

Take your pick.

Eh, Wacha' Gonna Do?

Well, I finally got "Carried" away today (something I'd wanted to do since May 31, but *sigh* let's just say life wouldn't let me.)

I feel like I've watched every episode of SATC at least 3 times thanks to Netflix and reruns on basic cable, so no one could have been chomping on the bit to see the movie as much as I was. Talk about "great sexpectations."

And it wasn't really disappointing. I don't know. I have mixed feelings. It might take a while for me to sort this through--perhaps as long as it took Carrie to sort out her feelings for Big (aka Mr. Preston, ugh--dumb name).

The only strong feeling I had after the viewing was emotional trauma. I felt like my heart had been ripped from my body and put in a blender for 2.5 hours. How much excruciating ups and downs can a person take in an afternoon?!

And I definitely didn't like the "dark" Carrie--her Alanis Morissette phase, if you will. That's not the Carrie I know and love. Carrie is bright, and witty, and a chin-up kind of gal. The tv Carrie never had a problem a few martinis and some pot couldn't solve! (cf. the time when she got broken up with by a post-it).

But I did love the Miranda and Steve story arch. I thought it did pretty good justice to, what I imagine, a jilted spouse might feel like and go through without taking either spouse's side.

But all in all, I left the theatre feeling pretty sad.

I've always hated romantic movies of all kinds--comedies, dramas, animation. They always seem to make "Love" seem bigger than life, impossible, unattainable, and desperately missing from everyone's life but the heroine's. It's like "Love" is more exclusive than even haute couture, but also a thousand times more enviable. The sine qua non of existence. The Holy Grail.

Pish posh.

There's more to life than love. And "Love" doesn't exist. I believe in love, just not "Love."

Why can't there be a romantic movie with that point of view? Cuz that movie I think I would like!

Going for Bronze

Inspired by the upcoming Games, I've analogized my post-bar experience thus far to the bronze medal. Not the best, not exhilirating, but not bad either.

While my classmates are off to the far-flung corners of the earth--Mount Kilimanjaro, China, Tibet, etc--revelling in their last free moments before The Man chains them to a desk for life, I've just been a lazy bum/homebody.

My days have been filled with organizing, organizing, and organizing. And a lot of tv breaks. (Tivo + Cable TV = the end to productivity as I knew it, aka, TV on crack).

We just moved into a new abode and it's finally time to purge the apartment of all the crap we really didn't need to lug all the way from Boston. And then fill it up with new crap from Ikea!

I think I'm finally starting to get over the trauma of the whole bar "experience." I did have a mini-panic attack as I was storing away all my bar materials and I did have nightmares about the bar for five straight nights in a row AFTER the last day of the bar.

But now I think I mostly got it out of my system, so to speak. Although, I still have a strong visceral aversion to it--it's like Voldemort--he whose name must not be spoken. Just blogging about it now made me throw up a little in my mouth.

Blankity Blank

Well, I'm out.

The test was three blurry days, blurred into one blurry haze. Punctuated with bad homemade sandwiches, a fried egg slapped on wheat bread. A handful of almonds.

And a lot of sweaty biking to and fro from the test site.

And some short excerpts from Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West, to help me sleep at night. (Love that book! Good writing!)

And horribly bad breath from dehydration. Can't waste precious test time on trips to the bathroom!

I definitely didn't do the level of work I wanted to. I definitely missed at least one big chunk of points in my last performance test. I definitely guessed on more than half of my multiple-choice questions.

So, it's kind of a crapshoot.

And now the prophecy is true: the worst part of the bar is the time between now and November 21 when the results get posted.

Passively waiting is the hardest thing to do. I imagine this must be what the cancer patient feels like, waiting for his biopsy results. Or the defendant waiting for the jury verdict. Except of course there's less on the line.

But now I have to face "real life" again. And I found myself completely unable to orient myself to life without the bar.

It's like a mild exam-version of the Stockholm Syndrome. Afterall, the bar has held me captive for over 2 months now. We had a symbiotic relationship. The bar told me what to do everyday for hours at a time. The bar flooded my mind, my dreams, my every waking moment.

How do I live without it? Who am I without the bar? What do I do now? It's too overwhelming. I have no more excuses to not live responsibly.

Is this how newly released prisoners feel like? No wonder they deliberately commit a crime to get thrown back in. Life on the outside is too strange.

So far I'm coping the only way I know how: endless reruns of Project Runway on my tivo.

Aufwiederzehn.

Pixie My Heart

It was bound to happen eventually.

I think most people have already long succumbed to her charms, so it was only a matter of time before I jumped on the I-have-a-huge-crush-on-Natalie-Portman bus.

What pushed me over the edge? Two things. Ok, 3.

First, you never see her. I'm surfing celebrity gossip blogs day and night but there's never any whiff of the lovely Ms. Portman. She's certainly never doing anything tacky or inane, but she doesn't even appear on the radar mostly!

That's discreet, subtle, crush-worthy. Humility is underrated, especially in Hollywood.

And Natalie is so much classier than her much-toted counterpart, Scarlett Johansson. They're both known for being more mature than your typical starlett, but ScarJo is like the low-rent, lamer version.

Second, Natalie's brilliant.

And third, I saw her on Project Runway this week as a guest judge and she could not BE anymore adorable. She was humble, sweet, insightful, kind, unaffected, real, genuine, sincere, articulate...need I go on? I saved it on my tivo just to watch her talk about fabric and fashion over and over again. Sigh...so lovely.

Natalie for president!