Froline Maria's Got Nothin' on Me

This seems like a nice feel-good quiz...

Instructions: Name 10 of life's simple pleasures, then pick people to do the same. Try to be original and creative.

1. Watching a steamy iron take out all the wrinkles in cotton dress shirts.

2. Jumping into a bed made with freshly laundered sheets and covers while wearing freshly cleaned jammies after taking a nice hot shower...to read a spell-binding page-turner.

3. Dancing like a maniac when you know you're all alone.

4. Singing your heart out when you know you're all alone.

5. Playing with a toddler or dog...no other "animal" comes close (sorry cat lovers).

6. Hosting a dinner party for six with matching dishes and silverware, decorated with candles and flowers, complete with appetizers and dessert, and of course, fabulous wine.

7. Reading a line that perfectly articulates what you've always felt but could never express.

8. Gut-busting comedy. The kind that makes you laugh out loud and snort up your milk-shake. It's even better when YOU are the gut-busting comic.

9. Pizza and a GOOD movie, both must be shared.

10. Being truly sorry and then being truly forgiven.

I tag: Alaberi, Quiet Girl, SuperEgo, and TipTopTam (and anyone else on my links).

Summer: Soup to Nuts Edition

soup to nuts slang. 1. From beginning to end; 2. To include or cover everything, as in a multicourse meal; e.g. The lecture on basketweaving covered everything from soup to nuts.


So here's the soup to nuts of what I did this Summer:

1. I heard the expression "soup to nuts" for the first time in my life.

2. Worked as a student lawyer for "indigent" people.


3. Visited the Bay Area.


4. Said goodbye (or rather syonara) to the Shorts as they moved to Japan.


5. Said goodbye to the Georges as they moved to the Bay Area.


6. Got a short visit from mom-in-law.


7. Did NOT go to the biggest casino on the East Coast, did NOT play craps and blackjack there, and did NOT double my money. (Woohoo!)


8. Another goodbye! This one's going to Southern California.


9. Tooled around Cambridge with Brother and Connie.


10. Played the quintessential Boston commons sport: frisbee.


11. Did a 1500 piece puzzle.


We finished!


12. Played all kinds of board games, like this one, Bang! This was a fun western-themed game in which there are Sheriffs, Outlaws, and Renegades. While playing this I kept hearing this song in my head, "I shot the sheriff...but I didn't shoot the deputy."

Th-th-that's all folks!

Happy Anniversary!

Thanks for the best three years of my life!

Little Miss Sunshine

By now most people have already seen this delightful cinematic piece. I think I really enjoyed it because it reinforces my personal philsophy on life, which has always included the following elements:

1. Life is really, really hard and almost always sickening.

2. People are really, really flawed and almost always pitiable.

3. And any art, to be good, must be mindful of the two points above; because art should be truthful and only in truth can there be beauty.

Androgenous Pat

If you have an Yahoo email account, you've probably seen this person before. He/she is one of the rotating pictures Yahoo has on its log-in page.

And it drives me crazy wondering...is this a man or a woman?

Particular points of ambiguity:

1. The hair -- too long to be male, but not an obviously feminine style.

2. The jawline -- too strong to be female, but then again, some women do have big man-dibles. Think: Russian Women's Olympic Weightlifting...which brings me to my next point...

3. The shoulders -- looks a little too broad and beefy to be a female's. And lastly...

4. The clothing strap -- Is that from a halter top? (In which case it's a woman) Or a rare sighting of a strappy man-tank? (In which case it's a badly dressed man who's stuck in the fashion hell of the eighties and early nineties).

And I do wonder what's in that red plastic cup...a cocktail of orange juice and crushed hormone therapy pills?

It basically boils down to this: the hair, the sunglasses, and the strap says woman. But the man-dible and the beefy shoulders say man.

What do you think he/she is?

Favorite Quote of the Day

"I like it when it rains hard. It sounds like white noise everywhere, which is like silence but not empty."

-- The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time

Women I Love

I'm so sick of all the vapid, self-absorbed, and slutty celebrities in the limelight that I decided to pay homage to some of my favorites.

Unlike wonky-eyed Paris, or double-D Pam, or red-neck Britney, or crack-ho Lindsey, or barbie-twins Ashley and Jessica Simpson...these ladies have more class and talent in their pinkies than most celebrities can show for in a lifetime.

So without further ado, I present to you, the real treasures of Hollywood:

Lisa Kudrow - Incredibly real, incredibly funny, incredibly talented.



Felicity Huffman - Not a great looker, but anyone who plays a transvestite in a compassionate film and is married to William H. Macy is tops in my book.



Sandra Oh - Hard on the eyes, but such a talented actress! You never feel like Sandra is "playing a role." She's totally natural and unaffected on screen.



SJP - Once again, hard on the eyes, but such the comic genius and gracious talk-show guest. I don't care what nasty rumors were floated around the set of Sex and the City. SJP exudes good taste and dazzling wit.



Reese - I respect her for resisting the pressure to look Barbie-ish and never getting a chin-reduction. The girl is the epitome of Southern class and charm. You'll never see Reese in a ghastly outfit, nor her children throwing a tantrum.



Charlize - The only lady on my list that actually looks hot. Blessed with both ravishing beauty and humility, a rare bird indeed. I bet her depth of character has something to do with her tragically abusive childhood. Despite all her assets, she probably still has extremely low self-esteem...which is probably her saving grace.

The End of a Short Career

Here is some of what I learned from my summer job as a student attorney.

Psst...I think I have an addiction.

Lately it's dawned on me that I have a soft-addiction.

Some people have hard-addictions, like gambling, crack, or porn. Soft-addictions are more "harmless" but still produce the same kind of unhealthy obsession and chemical firings that their more dangerous counterparts effect.

Soft-addictions can be anything from overeating to nail-biting. Mine is obsessively looking at clothes and accessories.

Everytime I'm on the computer (usually during work) I catch myself mindlessly surfing clothing sites. And when I come home, I unconsciously start flipping through reams of clothing catalogues piled up on my coffee table.

And it's not because I want to buy the clothes.

A lot of the clothes are just too expensive. The catalogues are from Saks or Bloomingdales. Heck, I can't even buy things out of the J.Crew catalogues. But nevertheless I flip page after page.

And a lot of the clothes are just plain ugly. I flip through catalogues for all kinds of target audiences: plus-size women, women over 50, women who look like they homeschool, women who like "classic" styles and prefer to stay in the fashion of the early 90's perpetually, etc.

And yet I continue to thumb the pages. Page after page. Season after season. Everything from Coach to LLBean. I'm there. Anytime I have a free moment I find my body unconsciously gravitating toward a catalogue or clicking on my "Favorites" folder marked "Shopping."

I exalt in the changing of seasons because that means new outfits, new styles! During the summer, bermuda shorts were all the rage. Things are getting "longer" in general. T's and tank-tops became "tunic-length" and belts appeared on everything from cardigans to sundresses.

Now, as Fall fast approaches, there begins the reign of the "skinny jean". Yes, those tapered abominations we all wore back in the late 80's and early 90's (some even come complete with zippers!). And as if that was not offensive enough, leggings are making a comeback. (But truth be told, they had emerged in early Spring of this year already.) The latest trends are not for the faint of heart, or the wide of girth.

Yes, no one is as "up" on her fashion as I am.

But I don't just "read" catalogues for the latest in fashion. I relish every detail about clothes. I read the description carefully; I find out what material it is made out of; I get a special kick out of things that are bias-cut; and for all shoes I carefully scrutinize the heel height, as I do the inseam for all pants.

I've learned quite a few words of the trade too, like: grossgrain, pique, surplice, and d'orsay. I know when lacey things are battenburg, Queen Anne, or just plain crocheted.

And don't get me started on jewelry! Please don't judge me, oh what the heck, go ahead, I know I'm pathetic...but I've started watching the home shoppping network! They have a program called JewelryVision and it sells baubles 24/7. I find myself flipping through those channels more often than I would like to admit.

So what is wrong with me?! What's with all this consumer-lust?!

I don't know...but sometimes I seriously foresee a possible future career in the fashion industry...or maybe this is the beginning of a long, downward-winding road toward shop-aholism and living out of my car full of bias-cut surplice tunics and d'orsay pumps!

Chit Chat

I finally found a moment to write so I thought I would.

And then I promptly realized that there was nothing to write about.

Well...that's not totally true. I could write about a lot of things, but nothing that I would want the "whole world" to know about.

Except maybe that:

(1) I went to a fabulous wine-tasting good-bye party for Emily and Stephen who are moving back to good 'ol California. We sampled Chianti (blech), Bordeaux (blach), Port (yuck), and many others. And I realized I quite like a certain bubbly called Moscato D'Asti. It tastes a lot like wine cooler. I'm such a simple philistine.

(2) I'm old. Don't you ever wake up and think: Gee I'm old? It's time for me to finally start grooming my eyebrows and using hair products.

(3) I'm torn between keeping and returning a brown suit I bought. It looked like a nice dark color on the internet. But when they shipped it to me, I realized it's a reddish brown.

I hate the color.
I don't want to pay for shipping.
I hate the color.
But it's not that bad.
I hate the color
But I threw away the box...

They say you can't go back...

So I’ve been MIA for a few days while traveling to California for a friend’s wedding.

It’s always weird going back to the Bay Area.

I left my childhood friends and family since college and have been making mini-visits back ever since (that’s nearly 10 years ago). And each time I go back, I feel weirder and weirder.

I feel like a stranger in my own home, like a Rip Van Winkle who awakes every 6-8 months to look around for four days before nodding off again. You really start to sift the wheat from the chaff and find out who were friends of convenience and who were true friends of simpatico.

Sometimes distance makes the heart grow fonder.

But sometimes it just accentuates the distance that was always there.

More "fun" in court...

What do you do when you're client's guilty as all get out?

Read here to find out.

It looks like a job for...Therapy Dog!

Cuter than a chubby gerbil,
Warmer than a fleecy blanket,
Softer than an angora sweater...

It's Therapy Dog!

My friend's 3 month old Cavalier puppy, Aunt Hazel, is training to be a therapy dog. When Hazel gets certified, she'll be petted by old people, sick children, and prisoners everywhere.

Wherever love is needed, Auntie Hazel will be right there to melt hearts with a single look of her irresistable puppy-eyes.

Naomi, the dalmation, is a little jealous, but she's getting used to being second banana. Poor Naomi. Is that the tired look of resignation and defeat I see in her eyes?
Alas, Therapy Dog's powers are useless to cheer up those of her own species.

Give me that old time religion PLUS

I spent Saturday with Stephanie and Mary.



Mary Baker Eddy, that is, founder (foundress?) of Church of Christ Scientist which world headquarters are conveniently located in Downtown Boston.

We first visited "The Mary Baker Eddy Library for the Betterment of Humanity" which is like a visitor center and museum. But as soon as you go in, you realize it's more like "The Mary Baker Eddy Display for the Conversion of Humanity to Christian Science."


Each display has been carefully crafted and positioned to evangelize to the viewer in a subtle and nonconfrontational way.

1. First you begin at the "questing" display where all kinds of famous people of different religions are quoted about spiritual seeking. No specific religions are mentioned, just general mushy gushy sentiments about spirituality (very Oprah-esque).


2. Next you go through the "Mary's Quest" display where it talks about Mary's childhood and how she grew up Presbyterian but just could not abide the harsh god of Predestination. And it shows her rebelling against the barbaric medical notions of her day, some propogated by ignorant Presbyterian ministers like Sylverster Graham, the infamous inventor of the Graham Bread Diet.


3. It also shows Mary as a champion of Women's Rights and antislavery movements.


4. Lastly you enter the "What Mary Found (and Founded)" display, which I like to call "The Eureka Room." This is the part in a sales pitch where the "closing" comes. Are you searching spiritual truths as Mary did? Well then you've come to the right place. Here's what Mary found to be true and now she will share that secret with you (not for $600, not even $400, but this priceless truth is FREE!) Ok, I watch too many infomercials.

Anyway, it was fun to see the Mapparium, which the tour guide told us has nothing to do with the religion. It's just there for fun. What is it? It's a 3-story globe that has a glass walkway in the middle for people to stand on and ogle from.

It's funny because it was made in the 1930's and the world has changed considerably since then. French Indochina anyone? It was sad to see that nearly all of Africa was colonized back then. No wonder it's a basket case now!

Afterwards we went to the actual church built by Mary in 1891 and the annex. It was the most beautiful building I've seen in a long time: thilling vaulted ceilings, rich expensive wood, dazzlingly crafted stained-glass windows. Now that's a church!


And what was in each velvet-padded pew?

Two books: The King James Bible and The Book of Mary (which is really called: Science and Health).


And inscribed all over that gorgeous sanctuary are quotes from Christ, the apostle Paul, the apostle John, and of course, Mary Baker Eddy.

And that's when I realized how these kind of religions get started. Much like Joseph Smith's Mormonism, Mary Eddy promoted Christianity, but with a twist, what I like to call, PLUS. It's all the things you like about Christianity, and then your own embellishments too.

What struck me as the saddest thing about the Church of Christ Scientists is its anachronism, aptly symbolized by their out-of-date globe.

In Mary's day, it was probably best not to follow modern medical practices, which included blood-letting for fevers and other cooky things. But now, her gospel of "No doctors needed, just faith" is ignorant and detrimental in the face of technological and medical advances.

Many a child of Christian Scientists have died on Law & Order episodes due to lack of medical attention stemming from Mary's quackery.

Don't hang up...it's me!

So you may have noticed my blog title has changed to Alice in Wonderland. I need to go incognito now because I'll be working for The Man soon (well, technically interviewing to work for The Man) and he doesn't appreciate employees who blog.

See this entry for more info.

Perry Mason I am not.

Read about my first trial here: complete with sketchy ethics, an off-the-hook judge, and a less-than-dignified falafel*.

*The identity of the food has been changed to protect the client's privacy.

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.