Golden Lilies

They should be small,
narrow,
straight,
pointed, and
arched, yet still
fragrant and soft in texture.

7 centimeters,
about the length of a thumb
is the ideal.

A perfect foot should be shaped like the bud of a lotus.
It should be full and round at the heel,
come to a point at the front,
with all weight borne on the big toe alone.

This means that the toes and arch of the foot must be broken and bent under to meet the heel. Finally the cleft formed by the forefoot and heel should be deep enough to hide a large cash piece perpendicularly within its folds.

If I could attain all that, happiness would be my reward.

Footbinding would make me more marriageable and therefore bring me closer to the greatest love and greatest joy in a woman's life--a son.

--from Snow Flower and the Secret Fan

This book I've been reading has all the subtlety and literary pleasure of an 8th grader's diary, but I've endured the prose to satiate my morbid curiosity about my own misogynistic culture.

The hatred of women is everywhere in ancient Chinese culture and like a bad trainwreck, I just cannot look away.

From girl-hood women are called "worthless daughters" in ritualistic poems--branches that must be pruned off. It is better to have your infant daughter be born dead than alive.

"Raising a daughter is like building an expensive road for others to use."

The ideal Confucian woman had two tenets:

(1) Obedience. "When a girl, obey your father; when a wife, obey your husband; when a widow, obey your son."

(2) The Four Virtues:
"Be chaste and yielding, calm and upright in attitude;
be quiet and agreeable in words;
be restrained and exquisite in movement;
be perfect in handiwork and embroidery."

In one common moral tale, a woman fulfills all the Confucian ideals and lives an exemplary life and gets a reward--to be reincarnated as the highest being on earth: a son.

But nowhere is that misogny more evident than in the ritual of foot-binding. This disgusting practice that began when a girl was 6, was seen as the defining symbol of status and worth. The perfect feet are called "golden lilies" because of their resemblance to the lily plant. They are formed by tucking the toes beneath a girl and having her walk on them until each toe breaks and then until the whole upper-foot bone breaks!

This "procedure" of course was unbearably painful and caused the woman pain for the rest of her life. 1 in 10 girls died during footbinding due to infections.

Footbinding was to insure that women would never venture out into the world of men. Their place was within the home, in the upper-woman's-chamber. There they would embroider and sew until they died. Clown-footed servants (whose feet were not bound) did the cooking and cleaning.

Although other cultures have relegated women to a place far below men and worshipped aesthetics far from natural, I can't imagine one more systematically linked between submission and status.

Is it any wonder then that, to this day, Chinese girls are stereotypically thought of as too submissive and obedient? Conventional. Unoriginal. Mice? Were we not bred for centuries to embody these very "virtues" in body and soul?

The irony is that I never knew any of this growing up in California. My mother didn't have a whiff of submission to men on her and certainly passed nothing of Confucian submission on to me. (Well, that's not true, she liked the part about being filial.)

But some exceptions do not prove the rule. An entire civilization built on a foundation of misogyny will leave its mark. China's daughters must be redeemed from this (somewhat literally) broken cultural past.

Teens: Just Wake Me When its Over!

I don't mind having kids. They're whatever.

What I don't want, are teenagers.

They say things like, "Why do you always try to ruin my life?!" and "You never want me to have fun!" when you've spent most of your life in utter devotion to their well-being and flourishment.

You work a shitty job to send them to college, you cook a thousand meals to pour down their thankless gullet, you run a mountain-load of their dirty laundry, and after all that the thanks you get is a narrowing of the eyes, a voice laced with disdain, and a cold shoulder. And the eye-roll. I love the eye-roll. "Ugh. Like, whatever. You are like so lame."

Teens feel so entitled. Entitled to the perfect parents who are never selfish. Entitled to have free reign to do whatever they think is pleasurable. And entitled to judge and condemn.

They have learned judgment without mercy, condemnation without compassion, and that's not even the worst part.

The worst part is their lack of judgment.

They get into self-destructive relationships with the other sex. They go to parties where addictive substances are on tap. And they drive recklessly. Any one of those things may have severe consequences for the rest of their lives. This is definitely the age where permanent scarring begins.

So how does one keep one's sweet, innocent child from becoming a monster/brat?

I don't know. But I'm sure their peer-set is crucial. By the time kids become teens, or pre-teens, they suddenly no longer care about what their parents think. Instead they care almost exclusively about what their peers think. Do they think I'm cool? Do they accept me? Do I get their stamp of approval?

Watching Frontline: Growing up Online has really solidified to me how much of an iron-grip a teen's peer set has over them. Lives are literally lost because of it.

Ryan Halligan was relentlessly bullied at school. But it took the power of the internet to amplify that humiliation and condemnation to the point where life was unbearable. In 2003 Halligan committed suicide at age 13. They say the "event" that put him over the edge was, really, just an age-old prank that popular girls would play on unpopular boys. She flirted with him over IM and he flirted back. And then she dropped the bomb. She ridiculed him for "believing her." As if a popular teen queen like her would ever deign to like a "faggot loser" like him.

Megan Meier died an even more tragic death (if that's possible). Her cyber-bully wasn't even real. A totally fictional boy on MySpace told her "the world would be a better place" without her and Megan took his word as her gospel truth. She killed herself within minutes of that online message. She was only 15. Sad.

It seems to me that the problem of teenage-dom is the problem of relative worth. Who do you listen to? Whose word is your truth? Whose approval do you seek? How will you be justified?

Truth be told, I'm still trying to crawl out of the dark vortex of public approval-seeking and relative-worth basing. I suspect most adults are. And I suspect most adults pass on their insecurities and brokeness to their teens, to the third and fourth generations.

So what then can be done about the wayward teen? Probably the same thing that's good for the wayward adult.

Deep, solid roots.
...and no driver's license until you're 21, no parties, no internet, and no dating until you're 18! Just kidding. But your dates will be chaperoned!

As I lay sighing...

With Christmas, my birthday, and New Year's falling all within days of each other, I can't help but feel more introspective than usual. Some recent thoughts:

1. Remorse. Over how I've treated some of my best friends over the years. Many of which I haven't made any real efforts to keep in touch with. Why? Honestly, because I have avoidant personality disorder. Seriously.

2. Amazement. At how wonderful strangers have been to me in the past. Especially everyone who came to my make-shift wedding. Some bore the inconvenience of traveling by air, some made food, someone made me a cake and let me wear her dress, and someone else dry-cleaned everything for me. Some golden-hearted choristers even learned a special arrangement of Psalm 28 to sing during the ceremony (the highlight for me).

The silver-lining in feeling helpless is the receiving of kindness from those who know they will get no return from you.

3. Inadequacy. I'm almost 30. I should be more mature. I should be a stronger person. I should have better values. I shouldn't be so easily cowed and swayed.

But I do have better coping mechanisms...I'd like to think.

Christmas: The Ultimate Anticlimax

Every year I look forward to Christmas, starting in July.

And I actually love the fact that retailers are pushing Christmas items onto shoppers earlier and earlier each year. The more the merrier, I say. It's like a win-win. Good for business, and good for people who love the feel of Christmas in the air, like me.

And when November rolls around, it's a welcome non-stop Christmas-a-thon. On tv, in the movie theatres, in the malls, everywhere, strings of lights, red, and gold. Ho ho ho and good cheer to all.

And just when anticipation is at its most heightened frenzy, just when you can taste your vacation days beginning, that's when it all goes downhill.

You know what I'm talking about. Those few days beginning the 22nd or 23rd, when you start to spend serious time with family. Everyone flies in from the far corners of the earth and you're all stuck together in unfamiliar confines.

Now, I love my family, but let's face it. Home is where the annoyance, irritation, and sometimes worse, the heartache is.

On Christmas Eve, you usually find that one person has an ill-temper because they have the flu, one person just has an ill-temper as always, and there's always at least another who's simply absent because he or she doesn't care for Christmas. That's if you're lucky.

If you're unlucky, there's been a massive blow-out fight and presents won't be opened until New Year's Day.

Either way, you're the one left holding the bag...of decorations.

I know life is not an ABC Afterschool Special: Home for the Holidays, starring Tracy Gold. But why does it have to be so stark, the difference between the Christmas in my mind and the one in reality?

All I know is, it's just another example of anticipation being a bitch. The more you make out of something, the more disappointing the reality is. Actual Christmas suffers for the immense build-up our culture produces starting in early October. The perfectly trimmed tree, the perfectly scrubbed white family on tv, the music.

But even so, I won't give up the anticipation. In my head there is a perfect Christmas and I refuse to "re-adjust" it to cushion the blow of reality. I'm a cautious pessimist in every other aspect of my life (I probably won't lose that last 5% of body fat, I probably can't get perfectly clear skin, I probably won't ever love my job, and I'll probably never furnish my house the way I want), but damn it, I'm holding on to Christmas!

I will never stop hoping, anticipating, wishing, and trying, trying, trying. I don't care how many gifts I have to wrap, how many trees I have to decorate by myself, and how many Christmas songs I have to play...by myself too.

For the love of Christmas. The Dream lives on.


Hope you had the Christmas of your dreams and boldly anticipate a great New Year.

Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty I'm free at last!

I hate to trivialize words of such historic and cultural importance, but it captures my feelings like nothing else could. After being chained to my loathesome study desk, cramped in my back-breaking chair, for the better part of two months writing papers and finals. I'm finally, finally FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

The first act of freedom? I'm going to the knitting store to start a new project! Yeah! I've only done hats and scarves in the past but I think I'm ready to move on to a sweater vest!

Legal Gems

Sometimes in the midst of reading dry legal materials, you come accross some inspired prose that jolts you out of your humdrum malaise with a snort and a chortle, like this passage from my professional responsibility treatise:

"To put it cynically, lawyers think they should be required to keep secrets where disclosure could avoid a grievous harm to others,...but they should be permitted to disclose relevant information when their own butts are in the sling."

Ha ha ha ha! Butts in a sling! That kills me! How often do you get to see the word 'butt' in legal texts? Ha ha ha.

Ok, clearly lawschool has deeply eroded my standards for what's funny.

Two views of a minor miracle

Lately there's been a lot of snow here. As a native Californian who never skis, it always feels like an eerie supernatural phenomenon.

Here are my attempts to remember this from two perspectives:

From within...



and without.

Things Fall Apart

On the immediate aftermath of a recent implosion, I still can't understand what happened. The end of an era, a dream--I knew it was too good to be true!

Things just fell apart.

Was it my fault? All of ours? What could have been done to save it? Why try ever again? Is it something I should file under "Q" for quixotic?

All I know is this. If you weren't on the same page to begin with, you shouldn't be surprised if one day you realize you're not even reading the same book.

And then you wonder if you really have anything in common at all? What's the point of it at all? Can there really be a relationship--much less a friendship--if conversation is strained, affiliation is lacking and interests are non-over-lapping?

What are we doing here then?

quizzes

You Passed the US Citizenship Test

Congratulations - you got 9 out of 10 correct!

Could You Pass the US Citizenship Test?

You Are 27 Years Old

Under 12: You are a kid at heart. You still have an optimistic life view - and you look at the world with awe. 13-19: You are a teenager at heart. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world. 20-29: You are a twentysomething at heart. You feel excited about what's to come... love, work, and new experiences. 30-39: You are a thirtysomething at heart. You've had a taste of success and true love, but you want more! 40+: You are a mature adult. You've been through most of the ups and downs of life already. Now you get to sit back and relax.

What Age Do You Act?

You Are Socks!

Cozy and warm... but easily lost. You make a good puppet.

What Crappy Christmas Gift Are You?

You Have Your Sarcastic Moments

While you're not sarcastic at all times, you definitely have a cynical edge. In your opinion, not all people are annoying. Some are dead! And although you do have your genuine moments, you can't help getting your zingers in. Some people might be a little hurt by your sarcasm, but it's more likely they think you're hilarious.

How Sarcastic Are You?

Men See You As Desirable

Men often find you immediately attractive and sensual You're honesty is refreshingly beautiful ... it draws guys in You are also able to be open with your feelings with no emotional baggage Packing light means you enjoy new relationships easily

How Do Men See You?

I've always wanted my own ch-ch-chia...

Which version do you like better?

(a) Picture one, nearly hairless.
(b) Picture two, very hair-ful.
(c) No facial hair, only full head of hair.
(d) Picture two, except no mustache please.
(e) Other.

Can I get a what what?

I miss the good ol' days when "A"s were handed out like Halloween candy--to pretty much every kid who showed up.

The "A"s started thinning out around college and now law school is down right brutal. I can't begin to express how much I hate the classic bell curve.

And it's not that the grades actually matter, because they don't. (I could get the same job pulling straight "A"s as I can with straight "B"s). But its the symbolism that counts.

"A" means good job.
Well done.
Excellent work.
You rock!

"B" means eh.

And that's what I miss most of all. The ego-stroking. It's so hard to get praise as you get older. Everyone gives kids so much darn credit for just standing there and looking effortlessly cute. "You're such a good boy!" "What a good helper you are!" "Gold star for you!"

But what about adults?

We need it just as much as kids (if not more), but suddenly, the well starts to run dry. Unless you are the creme de la creme, you will never hear a "good job." Employers expect you to do your job well--that's status quo. Thus you'll never hear a peep of praise unless you do your job freakishly well.

So for those of you who are superstars and always "feel the love"--good for you. I hate you and am secretly jealous.

But for the rest of us, the gigantic bulging middle of the curve, I say, solidarity brothers. Life is hard and praise is skimpy.

So let's remember to systematically lower the bar for each other.

The Other Dream

The American Dream is alive and kicking, as far as I know.

Sure there are pockets of political isolation and downward pressure that keep people from rising from poverty no matter how hard they try and how much they hustle. But all in all, this is still the land of opportunity and the purest system of meritocracy I know.

More than any other country, America offers upward mobility despite your race, religion, socio-economic background, or physical appearance.

If you are bright. If you test into the right schools. If you hustle. You can "make it". No matter who you are.

The only catch is that you have to be meritorious. You have to cut muster. You have to be in the top percentile. It is a meritocracy, after all.

Thus sometimes, even living in a meritocracy feels oppressive. Sometimes I just feel exhausted from the rat race. It's daunting and draining to strain to measure up every day, seven days a week, 365 days a year.

Somedays I wished I lived in a charitocracy. Where people are kind, no matter what. Even if you suck. Even if you're dull. And dumb. And boorish. And small-minded. Even if you make a mistake, or two, or ten.

A charitocracy: Where you don't have to strive for signficance and justify yourself through effort.

Because you already are.

Pain in the neck...and the shoulders...and

In order to graduate, every law student must write a big paper. Mine has been the bane of my existence for the last week or so.

My paper is due in early December and should have been started much earlier than I did. But I procrastinated. Big surprise.

But time pressure is not the worst part. The worst part is that I hate the subject. It is, to me, mind-numbingly boring. It's a paper about how to do research. Enough said. I don't even want to bore myself with the details of it here in my blog. Let's just leave it at that. I don't get excited about library of congress call numbers and database identifiers. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Oops, I fell asleep even typing that!

Anyway, it feels like I spend my days watching paint dry, but add in some stress and anxiety because I still can't shake off the nasty feeling that my grades count for something.

Boy am I crabby.

Had to be there

Last weekend I went with a group of friends to, what I like to call, the Yosemite of the East, Franconia Notch State Park in New Hampshire.

It wasn't quite peak foliage, but the scenery did not disappoint. It's hard to describe what a magical and surreal experience it was walking through the Flume Gorge (full of waterfalls). I guess you had to be there.

But here's the next best thing:



I told Michael to get his best smile ready cause we'd probably get our Christmas Card picture from this trip. These are some contenders: (Feel free to let me know which one you think should make the coveted spot.)





And this last shot I just love. The composition, the scale, it's just amazing. It's like someone just photoshopped us into a 5000 piece puzzle! (Click on photo to enlarge).

Heartbreak Haiku

Darkness, emptiness.
Don't want to talk about it.
All hope is lost now.

Don't know when the heart
Will begin to hope again.
Part of me has died.

R.I.P. Cal's chance of National Championship Title 2007

OMG! WTF?

Still in shock and disbelief.

Sophmore, second-string, walk-on quarterback v. Heisman candidate.
Joke of a team v. #1 team in the nation.
Three fans v. Homefield advantage.
How could this happen?!


When crazy shit happens, I need a reason. I can't rest until I've found a logical explanation for it. Was it performance-enhancing drugs for Stanford? Was it over-confidant slacking for USC?

I was going crazy not knowing the reason for this epic upset, until Michael mercifully told me Booty broke his finger during the game.

Oh! That's what it was! I knew there was a good reason! A broken finger makes all the difference to a quarterback's passing game. Ok. Now I can relax. All is right with the world once again.

StanfURD still sucks.

Since when?

You think you'd know all about someone after 9 years.


But last weekend Michael and I went apple-picking with friends and he showed off some skills I had no idea he possessed.



What's next, fire-eating?

Wishlist Item of the Day

Most people already know that I am an avid couch potato and consummate purveyor of consumer goods (shopaholic). So naturally, when you combine the two, you get: The Home Shopping Network.

Yes, I spend a great deal of my day on HSN. Even when I'm "working" I have it on in the background and it fills my life with superficial joy.

I know all the hosts and hostesses by name, bannerline guests, their special pricing systems ("This day only" and "Today's Special"), and even the models' names! I know, I know, scary.

And every once in a while, I see something absolutely worth coveting, which I've decided to share on my blog.

Why? Perhaps it's my public-spiritedness, perhaps it's my irrespressible enthusiasm for the item, or perhaps its my attempt to half-justify a somewhat unhealthy activity.

For whatever reason, you, dear readers, are the beneficiaries.

So without further ado, here is my HSN Favorite Item of the Day:

Tula Candles

These are exquisite luxury candles with complex and exotic fragrances named after mythical goddesses and historical women of intrigue like the Princess of Nerola, Artemis' Dream, the Empress Josephine, and others.


Each has the purest burning wax and wicks of pure cotton so there is no black smoke and even the boxes it comes in are keepsakes because of their beautiful design. My personal favorite is the velvet votive set. This glass votive has ACTUAL velvet on its patterns!


With price points ranging from $12.95 to $24.95, this makes the perfect hostess or holiday gift for anyone. You'll never outstay your welcome if you bring this as a gift!

Hint, hint.

Blog Quiz: One Word Answers

1. Where is your cell phone? near

2. Your boyfriend/girlfriend? married

3. Your hair? flat

4. Work? none

5. Your father? active

6. Your favorite thing? time

7. Your dream last night? bad

8. Your favorite drink? water

9. Your dream car? none

10. The room you're in? study

11. Your pet? monkey

12. Your fear? meningitis

13. What do you want to be in 10 years? purposeful

14. Where did you hang out last night? home

15. What you're not good at? losing

16. Eyebrow rings on the opposite sex? pretentious

17. One of your wish list items? therapist

18. Where you grew up? Cupertino

19. The last thing you did? homework

20. What are you wearing? pajamas

21. what aren't you wearing? makeup

22. What are you doing today? little

23. Your computer? functional

24. Your life? better

25. Your mood? average

26. Missing? goal

27. What are you thinking about right now? Paul Potts

28. Your car? dying

29. Your work? Q#4

30. Your summer? surreal

31. Your relationship status? Q#2

32. Your favorite color? coral

33. When is the last time you laughed? yesterday

34. Last time you cried? today

35. School? sucks

P.S. Let me know if you do this quiz so I can read yours.

Respect

Shame on you ABC for not broadcasting (on the East Coast) one of the most exciting games ever in college football history this Saturday!

(Aside: Cal gets no respect on the East Coast, I'm telling you. I walk around with my Cal shirt on and people are always asking me, "What school is that? Caltech? UCLA?" No fool, it's Cal! Or as Britney would say, "It's Berkeley bitch.")

Back to the main subject: For the first time in two decades, Cal won on Duck territory and boy was it a close one!

Here is the winning play by Cal safety Marcus Ezeff. Look closely at where his feet is. That's the goal line! With the Ducks one touchdown away from tying the game, Ezeff knocked the ball out of Duck receiver Cameron Colvin's hands a hairsbreadth from the goal line with literally seconds left in the game! I think I would've had a heart attack if I saw it in real time.


This historic win puts Cal at number 3 in the nation and still number 2 in the PAC-10! Yeah baby! Be-lieve! Cal is having its best season ever and I'm hoping that when they face USC in a few weeks it will be two undefeated titans squaring-off in epic battle. Gosh I would love to be on tight-wad hill for that one.


No doubt that game will be broadcasted live on the East Coast. But that's only because USC's playing. When will Cal finally get some respect?! When it wins the national championship?

Hey, it could happen.