The Year of Living Unremarkably?

Recently, the spouse and I watched Julie and Julia, about a thirty year old aspiring writer in New York whose life was going nowhere, until she decided to blog about cooking all of Julia Child's recipes in one year.


The blog took off, Julie got a book deal, and now a movie! Modern fairy tale ending.

It seems all you need to make it big is a kooky idea that takes about a year to implement and *poof* you too can get a book deal and possibly a movie!

Like this lady who decided to read one book a day for 365 days. She's now been tapped to write a book about her experiences.


Or the guy who lived a year with 'zero carbon-footprint'.

Or the guy (A.J. Jacobs) who 'lived biblically' for a year--what the heck does that mean anyway. I guess he was uber-kosher, or something.



A.J. Jacobs, incidentally, is a freaking gimmick genius because he's struck lightning not once, but TWICE. He's also the author of The Know It All, the book about him reading the entire 32 volumes of the Encyclopedia Britannica.


With the dawn of the new year, it really makes me wonder: What gimmicky thing can I do for a year, blog about, and maybe never have to work my day job again?

Um...so far I came up with:

My Year of Mediocre Homecooking and the Occasional Take-Out

My Year of Watching One to Two TV Shows a Day

The 365 Corporate Slave

365 Outfits, Some of Which Are Repeated Often (Actually, there is this one girl who only wore black dresses for a whole year, so this is not far off the mark!)

A Tattoo A Day (The spouse would not like this, or its corollary--A Piercing A Day).

The 'M'Eat-It-All (I will eat one different species of animal a day. We quickly move from the familiar (beef, pork, poultry) to the exotic (cat, dog, mouse, squirrel, horse, glurp...pardon me, I just threw up a little in my mouth).

????

This is proving much harder than it appears...I guess I won't be saying goodbye to my day job anytime soon. Sigh.

Merry ChristMAS

Sometimes my spouse says something brilliant. Yesterday he said:

Evangelicals like to say "Let's put the CHRIST back in Christmas."

But don't you think Catholics would say, "Let's put the MASS back in Christmas"?

I've never heard that, but yes, I believe that would make a great slogan for them! If they ever start using that phrase, I hope I get royalties from the Vatican.

Tiger 'Cheetah' Woods and Friends

The title of the newest issue of Newsweek offends me. It has a huge picture of Tiger Woods on the cover (so big that I couldn’t even recognize that it was him for a while) and the words--Why Can’t We Look Away?

I got news for YOU, Newsweek. I CAN look away. I’d love to look away. But you and your media friends won’t let me! Everywhere I turn, stories about Tiger are splashed around. And I could care less. I have no fascination with the best golfer in the world. That really means nothing to me. I’m not interested in a man who is the best at putting a small ball into a small hole on a large field of grass.

And while we’re on the subject of celebrities and tragedy, I have to say I just don’t understand why the general public cares so much.

Like, Michael Jackson’s death. People all over the world were swooning and sobbing over the news. It’s like, really? Wasn’t his career effectively dead for decades? He had morphed into such a sad, bizarre creature that I wasn’t sure there was anything to mourn. I would sooner mourn his adorable younger face un-mauled by the horrors of plastic surgery.

I remember when I was in junior high and Kurt Cobain had died. People came to school teary-eyed and depressed. I guess I just didn’t connect to his angsty lyrics all that much.

In fact, I can’t imagine feeling miserable at the death of any celebrity. And there are some I wish would die (at least whose publicity would die). Can a popular icon touch your life so profoundly that you would feel such a tremendous sense of loss without him or her?

I can’t imagine.

Although, if I were very hard pressed, I guess I would feel kinda sad if we lost Tim Gunn.

The Drunken Bathtub

Apparently there’s a world of judgment for the person at the grocery checkout who asks the clerk to unlock the liquor cabinet and hand her the cheapest vodka the store sells.

Even as we made our way to the glass case I could feel the eyes of the other patrons boring a hole in my back. I felt their eyes widen when I asked, “Are you sure this is the cheapest?”

A toothless, disheveled old man flashed a big gummy smile at me on my way back to the register. I guess he thought I was his peer now.

But darn it, I was not going to let dirty looks from strangers get in the way of trying out the most ingenious cleaning technique I’ve ever heard of--cleaning with cheap vodka (thanks Kirstie Alley and Oprah). It’s almost odorless, non-toxic and kills germs! Seriously, I would clean a lot more if I found products that didn’t make me feel like I was shortening my lifespan when I use them.

So how well does it work? Not too well on soap scum, but really well for tile grout and general surface cleaning.

The Self-Approval Bias

It is amazing to me how fiercely people love what is theirs.

Some person, some object, some place--insignificant and unattractive--takes on a whole new level of value once it has been claimed.

What once was clay becomes gold. What were flaws are ignored. There is no more critical evaluation, no more analysis. No more doubts.

It is unequivocally good because it is yours. It is part of you. And every man loves himself.

It is almost always annoying to hear these self-approving people talk about their objects of approval.

But some, a minority, do not love themselves. They do not pronounce, like God, that they and theirs are good. These people's company are bearable if their self-criticalness is tempered with charity and grace.

I need to join a support group...

...but until then, listening to The Voice (aka Barbra Streisand) sing this classic from Feinstein Michael will have to suffice.

Where do you start?
How do you separate the present from the past?
How do you deal with all the thing you thought would last
That didn't last?
With bits of memories scattered here and there
I look around and don't know where to start.

Where do you start?
Do you allow yourself a little time to cry?
Or do you close your eyes & kiss it all goodbye?
I guess you try.

And though I don't know where & don't know when
I'll find myself in love again
I promise there will always be
A little place no one will see
A tiny part within my heart
That stays in love
With you

First comes love, then comes 30.

I can no longer deny I’ve moved into middle-aged adultdom. There, I said it.

Last year, I didn’t know a single person that was pregnant.

This year, everyone and their cousin is pregnant. Literally, off the top of my head, I can list 9 people I know who are popping or have popped in the last 6 months. And that’s not counting all the Facebook pregnancies of more distant “friends.”

It must be because I’m turning 30. There, I said that too.

Ever since I was a teen, the age 30 had a magical quality to it. Like a harbinger of death, or at least fuddy-duddiness. 30 is the end of fun. The beginning of solid responsibility, sensible shoes and corporate hair. The time you really start to look like your mom or dad did.

And, what I’ve only recently discovered, 30 is the age for having babies.

Sigh, kids. Is it really time for all that? Sigh.

I have no problem with kids, but I guess I was hoping to avoid all that…drama. I feel like there is a manic penumbra surrounding the topic of kids that I don’t want to go anywhere near. It’s like, normal, reasonable, self-deprecating people suddenly morph into obsessed, wild-eyed crazies when it comes to their children. I know this is a generalization, but you know what I’m talking about!

Even when polite parents try to conceal it, you can see the gleam in their eyes. It’s a gleam of pride, exaltation, TRIUMPH! The gleam says: Isn’t my kid a piece of work?! I once read an interview of Katie Holmes talking about 1 year old Suri and how Katie is in awe of Suri. Simply in AWE. Suri teaches Katie about how to be a better human being and she’s so incredibly courageous.

Courageous?

Is Suri fighting off rabid bears out behind the Hollywood hills? Is she grappling with the existential angst of living in a fallen and broken world? Is she even struggling with an awful childhood illness that requires multiple surgeries or radiation?

Then…how…? Help me out here Katie.

And as much as I want to tell myself that I don’t want to turn into THAT mother, what hope do I have? Doesn’t (almost) every parent turn into a puddle of child-goop because that is the power of kids? Sigh.

I don’t mind the sagging, the wrinkles, the weight-gain and the loss of vigor so much (okay, that’s a lie, I’m going to fight those tooth and nail)--but when it comes to aging, save me from parenthood!

p.s. And no, I'm not baking something in the oven, so to speak!

Welcome to My Hood

Everyday I go out my front gate I see this:




And if I walk just a few blocks, I'll see what can only be described as 'blight', and dope fiends pushing grocery carts and bangers on the corner, waiting for 'business'. It's straight up "The Wire" (literally, the show was based in part on Oakland).


But in a few spots, there is irrepressable artistry--all the more stunning given its context.


And speaking of irrepressable artistry, here's a little gangsta' soundtrack to go along with the view:

Look at the situation, they got me facing,
I can't live a normal life, I was raised by the state.


So I gotta be down with the 'hood team,
Too much television watching, got me chasing dreams.


I'm an educated fool with money on my mind
Got my ten in my hand and a gleam in my eye.


I'm a locked out gangsta, set tripping banger
And my homies are down so don't arouse my anger.


Fool, death ain't nothing but a heart beat away,
I'm living life do or die, what can I say?


I'm twenty-three now, will I ever live to see twenty-four,
The way things is going I don't know.


Power in the money, money in the power,
Minute after minute, hour after hour,


Everybody's running, but half of them ain't looking
It's going on in the kitchen


But I don't know what's cooking.
They say I gotta learn


But nobody's here to teach me.
If they can't understand it, how can they reach me?


I guess they can't,
I guess they won't,
I guess they front,


That's why I know my life is out of luck, foo!

The Call

I have long envied people who have more than a job--they have a calling.

They wake up each morning and feel conviction and the pleasure of God.

I wake up each morning thankful for a job and a paycheck, but not much else.

What does it take to find your calling?

I’ve been wondering this question since junior high. The first time I was ever allowed flexibility and individual choice in my education, was the first time I navel gazed for direction. And none came. I chose the electives I thought were fun, but they ultimately had no collective purpose.

I did not know what I was created to do.

My lack of direction intensified in high school and college, as “real life” threatened to rear its head at an ever accelerating speed. I thought I would be a teacher. Or a computer programmer. Or a speech-writer. Or a musician. Or a ballerina. Or a classics scholar. Or a biblical scholar.

But instead, I found myself two years out of college in dead end jobs and needing financial stability. I was tired of not being able to provide for myself or others. And tired of living in fear of cavities and driving citations. I was tired of being an adult with kid-sized finances.

So I went to law school.

And here I am. Feeling no more closer at 30 than I was at 13 to finding where I belong.

Perhaps finding our calling is another modern myth, like finding The One--a fairytale promise with no counterpart in reality...until we enter the new and greater reality.

My Uncontroversial Life

I'm starting to realize the beauty of an anonymous blog. I wish I had one. This is a thinly veiled blog, but I think everyone who reads it knows who I am in real life.

But if I had a truly anon blog, I could write about how [____________] is totally blowing up right now and how I feel like [________] almost every day.

And I would also mention that my [__] is totally depressed and thinking about [________] my [___] after [_] [____] of [_______].

And mostly how I have a total [_______] on some [____] which is really messed up.

Oh, and how I really feel about all the recent pregnancies of my friends. Last year I knew 0 pregnant people. Now there's like 10, I kid you not! (puns happen)

It's a wierd time.

But because I am who I am and you know who I am, I'm relegated to posting about noncontroversial things like this...


If veggies could talk, this one would say, "What am I? An eggplant or a bell pepper? I'm so confused!"

How does it taste? I wish I knew. It rotted before I had a chance to eat it, like most veggies in my fridge. I'm full of good intentions, but lack follow through.

Story of my life.

Staycation All I Ever Wanted

Most people love to travel far away on their vacations, but that's just not how we kick it cuz:

(a) M hates long car and plane rides;

(b) We are the cheapest people you'll ever meet; and

(c) We live in one of the most beautiful tourist-magnets in the world!

Here are some things we did in our own "backyard"...

(1) The Presidio and Golden Gate Bridge.
You know, you can be married to someone for 6+ years (and dating for 5) and still find out new things! Like, I never knew that M had never been to the Golden Gate Bridge (until we went on our staycation).

Classic San Fran--the red bridge and the fog!


(2) Muir Woods National Monument
Just in time to appreciate Ken Burns' new documentary on PBS!


If you keep walking beyond the "tourist" trail, you soon find yourself in what seems like a pristine Eden, untouched by the destruction of man--the Land Before Time.

But if you're like me, watching way too many murder shows, you start to freak out because you realize the Zodiac killer targeted couples going on hikes in remote locations...and then you realize the Zodiac killer has never been caught...and then you start imagining horrific possibilities...I'm too young to die! We're turning back!

This pic gives a whole new meaning to the phrase 'Love Bug'. We must've gone during mating season cuz everywhere there were these gross clumps of ladybug orgies doing things that would make hedonists blush.


(3) Golden Gate Park
Although we've been here before, we feel like it would take another 50 hours to fully explore the meandering scenic pathways scattered throughout this oasis of natural beauty. Everywhere I turned my head, there were just these perfectly landscaped "moments" of visual bliss.



(4) I met Baseball Hall of Famer--Rickey Henderson!
I'm not into baseball at all, but it doesn't matter. A celebrity is a celebrity and this was my first celeb-sighting! I'm so hooked I want to go to LA and NYC to hunt more down!

(And he signed my shirt! My first celebrity autograph!)


Rickey came out to celebrate a baseball field that was named in his honor--Rickey Henderson Field, which is the field for his alma mater, Oakland Tech. I have the great fortune of being the main pro bono lawyer helping the nonprofit group that constructed and maintains the field.


Yes, sometimes lawyers feel GOOD about their job. It's rare, but it happens!

Back on the wagon

Okay, I've totally fallen off the blogging wagon.

I hate when other bloggers have huge absences of more than a week and now I've become one of "them".

It's just so hard to get back on the wagon after a week or so. Too much crap happens and then you just get used to not updating...and then the pressure mounts to write the entry and the avoidance kicks in...and then it's too daunting to try to summarize everything...

But here's a quick attempt. Sigh, this reads like a twitter account--maybe that is the way of the future:

1. Flew to NYC for work. Highlight--visiting EmDash at her offices, my hotel room. Lowlight--everything else.

2. Flew to Chi-town for work. Highlight--visiting for the first time, my hotel room. Lowlight--everything else.

3. Lost my vacation due to work, then got it back partially after talking to the bosses, then proceeded to feel guilty throughout my vacation because my boss had to finish my project for me and I took off more time than originally planned because of the way the project timing worked out and wasn't sure if that was really authorized by the boss.

4. Tried to enjoy my staycation even though I felt guilty the whole time.

5. Still on said staycation.

Another Best Name Ever...

Wait for it, wait for it...

JAHVID BEST (And it's not just a pun!)

Number one rusher for the Cal Bears and ONLY rusher on the shortlist to win the 2009 Heisman and demolisher of the Terrapins last week during Cal's opening game.

Best ran 73 yards for one of his two first-quarter touchdowns and the 12th-ranked Golden Bears avenged an early-season loss to the Terrapins last season with a 52-13 victory Saturday night to open this season.

This year is our year. I can smell it baby. All the way to the championships over USC's carcass!

GO BEARS!

Best Names Ever

To add on to yesterday's list:

1. Bernie Madoff (with your money)
2. Alexander Youshock
3. Usain Bolt (of lightening!)

Best Names of 2009

(1) Bernie Madoff (with your money).
(2) Alexander Youshock.

It was fated!

What's that Lassie? You think I should get a biopsy?

This article gives me another reason to love dogs...


"In the small world of people who train dogs to sniff cancer, a little-known Northern California clinic has made a big claim: that it has trained five dogs - three Labradors and two Portuguese water dogs - to detect lung cancer in the breath of cancer sufferers with 99 percent accuracy.

The study was based on well-established concepts. It has been known since the 80's that tumors exude tiny amounts of alkanes and benzene derivatives not found in healthy tissue."

Style 101: Bustin' Out

There's only one thing I love more than shopping for myself, and that's shopping for others! (I get all the buzz of retail without the pain of dropping dough) So when my friend, let's call her...Wen, asked me for some style advice, I lit up like a Chirstmas tree.

Wen wanted some easy options for office wear, but she is one of those rare Asian ladies blessed with a plentious bossom. She often finds shirts are too tight on top. But if she makes room for the girls, the rest of her top looks tent-like and shapeless.

So what's a bustily blessed girl to do?

The key, I think, is structure, structure, structure. The important thing is to nip in the waist while letting everything else breathe. The best and easiest way to do that is with option 1, the blazer.

#1 The Blazer
I love blazers. A good blazer hides a multitude of sins. It gives structure and shape without revealing any bumps and lumps. The key is not to be all matchy-matchy with your suit. Wen has only black pants, so here are some great "pair with black" blazers...

The ever versatile khaki blazer from J.Crew. I just got a similar version at Banana for $85 on sale.

A great tweed pattern looks fabulous with black pants. These are a very affordable option from New York and Company.

This outfit from Kenneth Cole can be bought at Nordstroms. It cinches in your waist and still leaves plenty of room for the chest. This is the epitome of big-busted dressing.

If you're tired of blazers, or it's too hot, you can get the same effect with a vest. This is from Nine West at Macy's.

#2 The Peplum Blouse
You may not have heard the word "peplum" before, but all big chested girls should embrace it. A peplum is the part of the shirt that flows out past the waist--a huge part of 40's style clothing. The peplum does exactly what a big-chested person needs--it nips in the waist while leaving room on top.

Beautiful option from The Limited. You can pair this with a long boyfriend cardigan in grey merino wool.

Here's a shirt with the same peplum effect. Look for elasticized or nipped in waists and you'll be able to wear a shirt that fits the girls without making you look like a shapeless tent. Also from The Limited.

Beautiful peplum blouse from Banana.

#3 Belted Shirt
The belt is probably the best accessory for busty girls because it allows you to wear a big loose shirt (comfortable!) without looking like a walking pillow-case.

Take, for example, a nice, loose, silk shirt like this...

This is from Ann Taylor, but this style of shirt is ubiquitous. All you have to do is add a belt and you go from tent-like to polished.

You can do a looser, hip-slung belt like this.

Or go for a structured, big-corset belt like this.

Now that I've given my 2 cents, let's hear what the experts from Lucky have to say about dressing a big bust...

All Look Same

Some cheeky new paralegal stopped me in the hallway today and said, "Bonnie, I can't find the binders."

I was like, "Bonnie who?"

I've never met new girl so I thought I would introduce myself, "Hi, I'm Alice. We haven't met. And you are?"

I think she said Daisy and proceeded to say, something to the effect of, yeah, I know you. I handed you a binder on this litigation case yesterday.

And I was like, no you didn't cuz I'm not even in litigation and I definitely didn't get no binder from you.

And we just stared at each other for a second.

And I started to feel really annoyed that this person was telling me she gave me binders and NOT backing down on her story when I think I would know better than anyone in the world that she did NOT give me binders.

Whatever. All asian females of a certain age must look the same to her. And that's not racist cuz she's asian too. A dumb, blind asian. Ok, that's mean--maybe she's truly handicapped in the visual department.

But she never backed down and said, "Oh, I guess it wasn't you," or anything to that effect. She just kept staring at me like suddenly I would remember that I WAS a litigator and that she DID give me some random binder on a case I've never heard of.

I just walked away after our staring contest. And had to vent about it.

To Splurge or Not to Splurge

As a voyeur of retail fashion, you will often see almost the exact same style in two different price ranges. And it's in those moments you must ask yourself: to splurge or not to splurge?

Is the upscale version so vastly superior that it's worth dropping the extra cash?

Case Study #1: The Patent Animal Print Flats

One of these pairs is literally 5x the cost of the other. But can you tell which one? I think, when it comes to patent, no one can tell if it's real leather or not. That's the beauty of patent. Verdict: Don't splurge.



Case Study #2: The Red Officer's Pea Coat

Here I think it's pretty obvious which coat is more expensive, but maybe it's not. Can you tell? One is 100% wool, while the other is half nylon. Verdict? Jury's still out.



What's your verdict, gentle reader?

In which Alice breaks down...

REDACTED due to the sensitive nature of the topics in this post.

You never know who might chance upon your blog these days!

The Letter D

Today's outfit is brought to you by the letter D.

"D" stands for depressed, despair, and done gave up.

I'm not even pretending to care about looking office-appropriate today. Usually I'll try to have at least one structured article to differentiate how I look at home v. how I look at work--but not today.

I have a soft t-shirt on made out of pajama-like materials.

I'm wearing black knit pants--the kind soccer moms buy from Land's End to workout in or run errands.

I topped it all with a cozy over-sized sweater coat.

And nothing says "I don't care" like my glasses and greasy hair.

4 days of 14 hour-a-day work and voila. You win! I've lost all will to look cute or professional.

Their Idea of Fun

Ever wonder what guys find entertaining?

We recently went on a beach trip with our church, CCCAC (where hubby is the English pastor!), and found out. Apparently they don't need a lot of fancy toys--just some dirt, rope and elbow grease provided hours of fun and chuckles.

Physical feats were flaunted: the human pyramid.


The man-pile.


The aimless shoulder-lifting. This went nowhere fast.


Also the guys dug a deep pit, about 6ft. deep!


Some liked jumping over the pit (and others, ahem Michael, enjoyed pegging the jumpers with a volleyball).


But the favorite activity of all was repelling off the pit wall (have to see it in motion for the full effect):



And of course, some thought it would be fun to be buried alive. Some may be permanently scarred from this experience.