Happy Mass-aversary

It's been one full year since we left the fair state of California to weather the forbidding climes of Massachusetts.

Indeed we enjoyed experiencing the authentic Four Seasons for the very first time:

Summer

Fall

Winter

Spring

What I once took for granted as "typical weather" in California, I now appreciate with a fierceness I never could've imagined, as 355 of the 365 days a year are either cold or muggy.

No wonder inter-state migration only moves in one direction: from East to West.

The God-like Brian

Gather 'round children and you shall hear,
A tale of one who is much revered.
Brian Fletcher is his name,
And his legacy is the stuff of fame.

Brian did what few have done,
The trifecta of lawschool he hath won.
He was President of Law Review,
Won Moot Court and graduated Summa too.

Do you know how hard that is to do?
In all of history Summa has been given to
No more than 35 student grads,
So not every class a Summa has!

Such brilliance makes one pause and wonder,
What is it like to have everyone else be under
Your level of sheer genius and mind,
And to be at a pinnacle of human-kind?

Does it make one proud and condescending,
Or provide one with satisfaction unending?
Or does it leave one disillusioned and bored,
Wondering if that's all life can afford?

Needless to say, the good path is thin,
Between the dangers of either sin.
But one truth remains both time and again:
Much is required of whom much is given.

Yeah, I said it.

I just spent the last hour glued to a momblog.

You know, those blogs written by young hip moms who just had a kid recently. This one seems to have the perfect life.

First, she looks hot.
Second, her husband looks hot.
Third, her kid is super cute.
And lastly, her home looks wealthy.
Oh yeah, and she's funny. Sparkling personality, as they say.

I get, from the blog, that she's a stay-at-home mom who just loves the bejesus out of her kid.

I bet she also scrapbooks all fancy-like with special scissors and corner-cutters, etc.

I can't decide whether I feel nauseous, jealous, or scared to death that that will be me in five years.

On one hand, I've always had a special place in my black-little heart for doting moms. I hate them. Period. What the hell is so precious about your kid that you need to be completely obsessed with him/her 24/7. We all know you think the world revolves around little Sally, but frankly, the world DOES NOT. Kid-centered moms are just as bad as self-centered people...but in many ways worse.

At least self-centered narcissists know that they have a problem and need to snap out of their mirror-gazing cocoon. But kid-centered moms think they are totally justified in their obsession because they think they are just being loving and devoted mothers...as they should be.

But I got news for you lady. You keep that up and Junior will grow up to be one messed-up and therapy-needing adult because you could not model what a decent person should be: interested in more important things than you and yours.

Either he'll grow up to be an arrogant prick, thinking he's God's gift to the world; or he'll grow up totally dependent on Mummy and those apron strings will never be cut.

So for the love of all that is decent, stop obsessing about your stupid kid!

(p.s. I'm in no way implicating mom-bloggers. Just because you blog about your kid does not necessarily put you in the category of unhealthy obsessors. So, "No, I don't mean you").

Blame it on the Rain

Oh the futility of trying to stay dry when it's pouring cats and dogs!

While crossing a busy street today, I jumped over a puddle, trying to avoid getting my beloved pants wet, and then horror struck.

Instead of landing on my right foot, I keeled onto my right ankle, and sprained it. And then, trying to compensate, I shifted my weight onto my left side and ended up keeling onto my left ankle and sprained it. Finally, losing my balance altogether, I fell forward into a deep puddle, scraping my right knee and yes...

after all that, getting my pants entirely soaking wet.

(And now I'm a cripple to boot. I've got two busted ankles and one sad limpy gait).

My Week of "Work"

My first law job: read all about it here.

What's going on in law school land?

Click here for an update.

Room for one more...

I know my blog sidebar is starting to look like a paeon to all that is unholy and wrong in our world, what with all the celebrity blog links...but this is my last one, I promise. Right. And if you believe that, then I've got some ocean-front property in Arizona to sell you too.

But seriously, this new one is really well done...frequently updated and wide-ranging in coverage...it's like the Jim Lehrer of trash.

Ladies and gents, I unproudly present to you:
The Celebrity Terrorist

The Terrifying Quiet

When all is said and done, we are only travellers and sojourners in a weary land. The snatches of beauty that we sense in the grand and in the simple are but heartbreaking reminders that we do not belong here and are a long way from home.

I don't know about you, but I would rather spend all day gnashing my teeth at petty things and distracting myself with meaningless games than sober up and face the aching truth.

Life's Little Ironies

In the latest issue of Glamour magazine, I read that Gloria Steinem's hero is a woman named Ms. Mankiller. Mankiller?! Are you kidding me?! Ironic, no?

Two footnotes:
(1) Wilma Mankiller is the first woman to serve as principal chief of the Cherokee Nation. And I realize this is old news since Steinem was actually married at Mankiller's home five or so years ago.
(2) See, I do read substantive stuff! It's not all just JCrew and Victoria's Secret Catalogues.

Life outside of Hollywood?

I've said it before and I'll say it again:

America is too obsessed with celebrities!

I mean, really people. What is the big deal with Bradgelina and Vaughniston?! Why do we care to vote for pop singers more than local government issues?! And WTH is so interesting about tanorexic socialites like Paris Hilton?

There is way more important stuff to be focusing on. America is fighting a war, people. There's genocide going on in Darfur. New Orleans is still a mess. There's apocolyptic global warming for pete's sake!

That being said, you should definitely NOT be checking out my new blog link,
I suck...on straws, which would only encourage more deplorable celeb ogling.

No, you must resist the consumer urge for instant gratification and your daily fix of schadenfreude. Quick! Click on CNN, or the New York Times.
Save yourselves...it's too late for me!

Too Cool for (Sunday) School

Today I visited a slick church.

That's right, not "sick", "slick".

The whole thing reaked of Banana and Barn (as in Republic and Pottery). It was located in a trendy downtown spot and it just felt too cool for school (as in Sunday school).

I don't know if it was the elite praise band, which sounded like they were angling for a Grammy nomination, or the leadership, who sported JCrew looks and artfully trimmed facial hair, or the predominantly yuppie congregation, who, surprise, sported JCrew looks and more artfully trimmed facial hair.

But either way, it felt wierd. I miss seeing old people with orthopedic shoes, frumpy soccer moms driving mini-vans, and messy kids in jam stained hand-me-downs. That feels more like home.

If I want slick, I'll go to Starbucks.

I'm sorry! Please give me another chance!

Dear Inner Child,

I'm really sorry about the last few weeks.

I know I've been repressing you and depriving you of your self-expression, what with all those crazy finals and that torturous twenty-page paper you had to suffer through while Inner Adult typed furiously for two days, the whole time ruing the day she ever learned how to procrastinate.

And, actually, I'm really sorry about this entire year.

I know you were unhappy about my decision to go back to school, but I promise you, the worst is over now. From here on out, trust me, I'll make it up to you.

Even though I'll be working 8-10 hour days, the entire summer, we'll at least have the weekends together, right? Sure, I'll have to do some chores on Saturday...and that research project I have on the side...but I promise, Sunday is ALL YOU! (after church).

This summer will be great, I promise. Frisbee in the park, shopping downtown, walks by the shore...you'll see.

Hang in there!
Love, Me

The Coma

So, I've been incommunicado for a while and will probably continue to be until finals are done.

Two more weeks. Feels like an eternity.


I'm just so immensley thankful that the weather has been crappy all week. Studying inside on a beautiful day is unforgivable.

Quote of the Month: ROCK ON!

"One great rock song can change the world!"

-Jack Black as Dewey Finn (as Ned Shneibly)

Pessimist's Dilemma

After a brilliantly beautiful day of paradisical weather,
the half hour between dusk and night
is all but unbearable.


As the light fades I feel like I'm dying
and that the best has gone forever.

Today and Tomorrow

Well, today is a good day, I guess.

Today was the last day of instruction and thus the end of a long reign of terror for me. I can finally heave a great sigh of relief, knowing that I will not get called on in class anymore and inevitably be caught with my intellectual pants down.

Hurray for pants.

Speaking of which, today also marks the unofficial beginning of pants-lessness. It was a very sunny 70 degrees out and from now on I must shave my legs (after 7 months of hibernation) and will wear only shorts, capris, and skirts.

Yay.

But we're not altogether out of the woods yet. For there are still final exams to take, final papers to write, and tomorrow it will rain again,...but I will be wearing a SKIRT, thank you very much.

Perspective

The last episode of Six Feet Under showed a beautiful collage of all the main characters and how they died. The last five minutes of the show fast-forwarded through an eighty year period and froze at important moments in the characters' lives (like weddings and deaths).

It was incredibly comforting to know how small things (that seem like a big deal now) are really nothing in light of impending death.

No one ever looks back at their life and thinks: I regret never losing those last five pounds. Or, I wonder what so-and-so (someone I barely know) thinks of me? Or, I wish I had studied more.

Is it morbid to be so cheered and comforted at the thought of death?

Your Tireless Do-Gooder

Even in the midst of studying for finals (3 more weeks until school's out!!!), I find the time to provide you with even more superficial crap for your brain-and-soul-rotting pleasure. I know, you're welcome, I'm a selfless giver, what can I say?

Check out the new sidelink to some sweet celeb bashing:

Feeling Fuggy.

Ralph Understands

I've always loved flowers and couldn't quite put my finger on why...until I saw this quote today.

"Earth laughs in flowers."

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

Couldn't have said it better myself.

What is comedy and laughter but joy? What is gallows humor but the attempt to find light in even the darkest places? I've always wanted to be a comedian, a joy-spreader.

P.S. I've added another link: Semi-Serious Business. Melly goes to B-school!

Almost Perfect

Spring is now here in full force.


Everywhere you look there's tulips, hyacinths, and daffodils...

...and unfortunately, young people making-out. Blech!

How do you say 'Google' in Chinese?

(I found this excerpt to be funny in a much too nerdy way...my apologies to those who don't speak Chinese. Thanks Emily for the post! )

43% of Chinese Internet users referred to the search engine with the English word "Google,"

26% used a Chinese pronunciation, "gougou" ("dog dog") and

13% used a Chinese pronunciation, "gugou," that sounds like "ancient dog."

Google undertook its own survey and discovered an even larger range of imaginative pronunciations, including "guoguo" (fruit fruit) and "gougou" (check check)...

The final choice, (goo-guh, song of the grain), appealed to Google's Asia Pacific Chief Marketing Officer, Wang Huainan, late in 2005. It means "Song of the Grain," expressing the abundance of harvest, but also "Song of the Valley"--a reference to the company's Silicon Valley roots, according to Zhang Jing, Director of Marketing, Asia Pacific.

Did you get all the translations? (dog-dog, check-check, ancient dog, etc.) Which one did you like best? I thought the "ancient dog" was the closest in phonemes.

Happy Easter

I have learned the secret...

to being discontent in any circumstance,
whether in plenty or in want,
in sickness or health,
in safety or peril.

Sweater Weather: I think I'm in Love

You don't know who you are until you know your ideal weather.

I have lived 26 years on this earth and never once experienced a true Spring. I'm happy to have lived 3000 miles from the place I've always called home if only to finally know what the 4 seasons actually ARE!

And by far, my favorite is Spring.



I love the blossoming trees.
I love the tulips and hyacinths.
I love the chirping birds.
But most of all, I love the weather.

My ideal weather: 55-60 degrees with light winds of 5-10mph and patchy clouds.

It's the perfect climate for donning one of these and feeling oh so comfy and perfectly content for all the beauty of rebirth and redemption.

Orange you glad it's not banana?

Here's an idea for my new blog nom de plume:

Agent Nothing-Rhymes-With-Orange

How did I ever pull such a long and unwieldy name out of my arse?

Well, AGENT, comes from the fact that I feel like a secret agent, having to delete all references of my true identity from my blog...lest THEY find me.

And ORANGE is because I like oranges and fruit in general. And there was such a thing as agent orange, back in the 70's. A nod to history is always a good thing.

But I don't want to be AGENT ORANGE because that makes me sound like a toxic weapon of mass destruction, which is not a perception I want to encourage.

But there isn't a good substitute name because nothing rhymes with orange!!!!! Agent Shmorange? Agent (any other color) sounds stupid too. Agent Chartreuse? (ugh). Maybe Agent (some other fruit)...like Agent Pinapple? Agent Grapefruit? Agent Kiwi!

Love it? Hate it? "Eh, could be better. Go back to the drawing board."?

A Very Frasier Affair

I went to a wine-tasting at my friend's house last night.

It was pretty intense. This guy clearly knows and loves his wine.

We were each instructed to bring a specific kind of wine, from a specific region, of a specific vintage. My assigned wine was: Pinot Noir from the Central Valley from either 2001 or 2002.

The theme was: California Here I Come! And thus all the wines were from various parts of the Golden State.

As the tasting was about to commence we were handed four page packets of typed notes describing each wine, its ideal characteristics, flavors to look for, and foods to pair it with. At the bottom of each note was room for us to jot our own reflections on the color, taste, bouquet, aftertaste, and finally our own subjective score.

My favorites of the White category was: Chardonnay from Mendocino County.

My favorite Red was: My very own Pinot Noir!

And my favorite wine overall was: A Napa Valley dessert wine called Shahpar, Late Harvest. It was very sweet and smooth....a blend of late harvest semillon and sauvignon blanc. I gave it 10 out of 10!

I don't usually do such mature and cultured things like wine-tasting so the whole night felt a little surreal. Having gone straight into the poor undergrad life to the working poor to the poor grad-student kind of life, I've never felt like I had the excess time or money to indulge in extracurricular activities that extended beyond TV and pizza.

I wonder if I'll turn out to be a "Frasier". One of those people who regularly attends museums, art gallery openings, ballets, operas, and of course, wine-tastings.

America is stupid

Last night Mandisa was voted off of American Idol.


She was my idol favorite. *sob*. It's all my fault. I never voted for her. I was too darn lazy to pick up the phone.

Mandisa had an amazing spirit, a gracious heart, and a voice that could charm angels and demons alike. And not to mention, baby got back.


But don't cry for her Argentina -- with her gorgeous sunshiney smile I'm sure she's got plus-size modeling contracts up the yin-yang and multiple record deals just waiting for her John Hancock to grace them.

Soul for Sale

This is by far the most hilarious/ridiculous blog test I've ever seen.

I only have two questions: (1) How did they come up with this figure?! (2) How come I'm so cheap to buy?!

On Average, You Would Sell Out For

$1,074,517

At What Price Would You Sell Out?

Death when you least expect it

She died in the springtime of her spring.
Shirin Shakir,
A classmate I never met,
one year ahead of me.

She died in a boating accident in Peru,
during Spring Break.
I looked up her picture in our school directory.
She was astonishingly beautiful.

From her memorial website,
I gleaned she was a devout Muslim,
and slightly shy,
and will be missed by a handful of friends.

It's a fine line between life and death.
What are the chances?
Who could've known?
And what exactly are we supposed to make of this?

The Blogger Formerly Known as Christina

I need a new anonymous name for my blog.

Why? Because soon I have to work for "the Man." And "the Man" doesn't like employees who blog. (It shows a penchant toward indiscretion.)

So what should I call myself?

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).