My Life, As Told Between (Baby Cakes') Naps

I can’t even fake a title or a direction for this post.  I’m only posting because all my friends with blogs (and yes, that’s the kind of cool crowd I run with.  Do the kids still say that nowadays?  “Run with”?) posted something today and I feel pressured to do the same.  I realize I lead my life under weird pressures.  I feel pressured to post some inanity because all my friends have posted, but I don’t feel particularly pressured to finish this important project I’m working on, even though it’s 5pm and I have a work dinner to go to today. 

Eh.  What are you going to do?

So something that has come up this week, on several occasions, is the fact that I don’t post any really personal information on this site.  My response was along the lines of, “Well, duh.”  Most of my friends know this already, but I’m actually a rather private person (this public forum aside – I’m an enigma like that).  Somone recently commented that if this law thing doesn’t work out, I should consider a Sex in the City type column.  But without the Sex.  And while it was flattering, considering that the only parts of the City I really see are the inside of my apartment and the inside of the office, there probably wouldn’t be much City either.  I’m going to venture a guess that it wouldn’t be a terribly exciting column all around.  Somewhat like this post probably. 

Maybe I should just stop now. 

Went out in Hermosa Beach last night with a big group of people to listen to this band.  What band you ask?  I have no idea.  I don’t remember much about the actual band as I spent most of the night obsessing about (a) the fact that I had somehow lost my driver’s license on the trek between the front door and the restroom and then (b) the fact that I had somehow found my license and would be spared the ordeal of going to the LA DMV.   I oftentimes have a one track mind (see numerous posts about my hair); this borders on being obsessive compulsive when I’m drinking.  As the night progressed, my friends noticeably winced when they saw me start to say something, wisely and correctly reasoning that it would, in all likelihood, have something to do with my license.  They started ducking out of sight when possible.  Did I mention I lost and then found my license?  =) 

Speaking of my hair (you know you were waiting for it), one of my friends requested I post about The Mullet Months.  Many of you have already heard this tale of woe.  Please feel free to skip ahead.*  About two months ago, I went with a friend to see her hair stylist.  As it turns out, his English wasn’t the best and my Mandarin is nonexistant, so I gave him too much discretion and not enough direction.  No one told me that his de facto haircut, unless specifically told otherwise, is a mullet.  Yes, for the first two months of this year, I sported a mullet.  (*hangs head in shame*)  Children would laugh and point and adults averted their eyes from the disaster atop my head.  I’m only sharing this because I realized last night that I’ve finally shed all traces of the mullet.  It was a cathartic moment.  In an effort to put the painful incident behind me, I’m writing this post and forever closing the door on The Mullet Months.     

*There’s nothing ahead.  Sorry.  The mullet’s all I’ve got at the moment.  Check back in a few days.  Stop harassing me already.  I can’t write under this kind of pressure.  Ack! 

As evident from the title of the post, I dropped by Home Depot on the way home from work last night to buy a filter for my shower, in furtherance of my plan to fix my hair (I will wrap up this topic soon.  I promise!).  Despite the title of the post however, it was actually not at all an adventure (but now that I’ve lured you in, you’re stuck).  It just happened to be the first time I’ve ever been to Home Depot on my own.  It’s a huge and very intimidating space.  And I am very small (well, I’m short anyways) and the opposite of intimidating.  Gadgets of all sorts covered the entire surface of the huge warehouse from floor to ceiling.  Most jarring of all was that utility took precedent over aesthetics, which is not the case in any other space I occupy.  In fact, as a female, I’m trained to put aesthetics above almost everything else, most especially utility.  (How else do you explain high heels?)  You will all be relieved to know though that I only did the paralyzed doe caught in the headlights thing for a few minutes.  After a few deep breaths and a little internal pep talk, I eventually recovered and even managed to wade through the murky waters of my local Home Depot, clinging to a helpful store clerk the entire way, to triumphantly retrieve the filter.  Even if the shower filter doesn’t work, I’m hoping my hair will be grateful I went through the effort and will stop acting up as a show of appreciation. 

My hair has been broken since I’ve moved to LA.  I don’t know if it’s the air, water, or some mysterious hair-destroying agent lurking in the food I’ve been consuming, but my hair has been increasingly ick (I think that’s the scientific term, please correct me if I’m wrong) since September.  I think I may have fixed it though, thanks to a line of shampoos and conditioners a friend recommended. 

Update:  My brilliant molecular biologist, and apparent hair expert, friend has informed me that it is indeed the water.  It’s good to know the real culprit behind my increasingly horrendous hair, but I’m a little disappoint now that she’s dashed my grand delusions involving secret spies intent on giving me bad hair by injecting my food with hair-altering chemicals. 

(Yes, I thought this was blog-worthy.)

Invite me to something – I have a lot of cute new clothes I need to wear.  Went on a massive shopping spree with my sister this weekend.  Massive.  I don’t know what happened.  Maybe the stars were all in alignment and Mercury was in retrograde or something, but I didn’t see an item I didn’t like.  The best excuse I could come up with was that I’m going to Cabo in May and Vegas in June…and  therefore must buy clothing two months in advance?  In a rare show of self-restraint however, I did hold off on buying a sixth swimsuit.  I figured the five I have sadly stuffed in a drawer at home were sufficient.  I’m now nervously awaiting the finally tally to show up on my credit card statement.  Thankfully, I’m atrocious at math and lost track of how much I was spending three stores into the spree, thus allowing me to continue spending recklessly and relatively guilt-free.

Oh, and in case anyone was anxiously wondering about the fate of the gold clutch I’ve been talking about forever (as I’m sure you all were), I finally bought one.  It’s actually bronze, but close enough.  It also shimmers and looks much better than in this picture! 

And despite this crass show of consumerism, I’m still trying to think of a way to contribute to the community. 

I’ve noticed a disturbing trend of food-related posts recently, but am opting to ignore it and add yet another food-related post. 

An award winning friend of mine has recently started a blog of her own and has now publicly taken exception to my advocacy of Ambrosia apples.  She prefers the disturbingly tart Granny Smiths.  I’ve actually gotten quite a few comments (some even from real live people that I occasionally interact with when not tied to my computer) about the beauty of Granny Smith apples.  I just don’t understand.  They’re so tart, they’re virtually non-apples.  I try not to judge, but I’m only human.  I think Granny Smith apples are awful.  Unless in the form of a baked good.  Then they’re okay.  =)  There, I’ve said it.   

On a non-food-related note, if you have a minute, watch this video.  It’s funny.  If you scrounge up another minute, please tell me what you think of it; I’m interested in finding out if my friend’s hypothesis is true.  The hypothesis involves the extent to which racial differences affect one’s take on the clip.  Don’t expect anything profound however.   

It’s cloudy and rainy today.  I have to drive to Redondo Beach tonight and attempt to have a life, which will hopefully make up for the fact that I may spend part of the weekend in the office.  This fits in nowhere.  I just wanted to complain a bit. 

I have many complaints about LA and work and life, but sometimes little things, like lunch with a good friend, a sunny day, and a tea latte from The Coffee Bean, make it worth-while.  On the way back from lunch with a friend from my old firm, I stopped by to try the new Lavender Mint Tea Latte.  Yum.  Somehow it makes having to face another 8+ hours of work more tolerable. 

And yes, I realize I sound like a commercial for The Coffee Bean.

So you know those days when you want to bury your head in the sand and stay there until someone tells you it’s okay to join the world again?  It’s been one of those weeks.  I’m giving some thought to purchasing my own plot of sand since renting one every day is getting expensive. 

On the plus side, I had some excellent sweet potato fries at lunch today! =)

I had a great time in SF this weekend, although I almost didn’t make it.  Plans were up in the air all week (and for someone as generally disorganized as I am, I actually am a huge pre-planner) and there was a crisis involving a lost driver’s license and a waiting shuttle, but I (barely) made it.  I was able to celebrate a good friend’s birthday with a great group of girls (“my girls” as my friend CH affectionately calls them).  For those of you I missed on this trip, apologies all around.  I didn’t have much time up there and things were very last minute.  I’ll catch you the next time I’m up!

So the reason I didn’t have much time was that, as part of the firm’s pro bono option, I spent most of this past weekend in San Francisco, reading scholarship essays for an Asian American Pacific Islander fund that’s distributing money to high school students for college.  It was, perhaps surprisingly, a  really good experience.  I’d mentally composed a terrific post about the experience and what I took away from it while I was driving from San Francisco back to San Jose, but I lost it somewhere after Palo Alto.  (If anyone finds it, please let me know.  It’s probably floating somewhere along the 101.)  What you guys are left with is a much more disjointed mess.  More along the lines of what you should be used to. 

The essays really brought back some childhood experiences and memories I hadn’t thought about in a long time.  Like the original post, I think they must have gotten lost along the way.  My life is nice now.  It’s been nice for a long time, and I forget that wasn’t always the case.  This weekend reminded me that there’s some value to remembering the negatives.  I frequently joke about how self-absorbed I am, but I’ve been wondering how much truth has seeped into that statement over the years.  After all, it’s natural and entirely too easy to become more self-absorbed as we get older and our lives become more complicated.  Time is harder to find, whether it’s time for work, other people in your life, or yourself.  And you (and by “you,” I mean “I”) really do become wrapped up in yourself and your current existence.  Reading those essays put things in a little more perspective.  I think I need to get more involved with something outside myself.  I used to be.  I just need to figure out what…

Anyways, this realization followed the end of the worse week of my professional career (at least so far).  It was a week where I couldn’t do anything right and I made mistake, after mistake, after mistake.  I was thorougly tired of apologizing by the end of the week (although the partner who was the unlucky recipient of all of these errors was more than nice about it all) and was feeling like the worst lawyer in existence.  I’m trying not to dwell on it.  Perspective.  Hopefully this week will be better.  If not, I’m running for cover.  =)

Sorry I’ve been lax with updates.  It’s partly because I’ve been busy at work, partly because nothing of note has happened recently (although this doesn’t usually prevent me from posting), and partly because I’m now a member of a secret, cult-like group blog recently started by a brilliant and hilarious friend of mine (in fact, I’ve probably divulged too much information already).  Unfortunately, I only have enough creativity/energy/material to post on one blog at a time.  Don’t worry though, I’m back now.  I apologize for straying, but the allure of a new blog proved too hard to resist.  I’m weak.

Besides, I’m a busy, important person…who spends entirely too much time reading any random article people bring to her attention (well, the second part of the statement is true at least).  This week alone, I’ve read about [WARNING:  some of these links are disturbing, click at your own risk] a two headed child, idiotic frat boys from Texas, a freakishly large lobster, and vicious chimpanzees. 

On a more mundane front: a friend of mine started her own blog today, which I’m really excited about, partly because she was inspired by this one (it’s been a blog-filled week); I’m going home to San Jose this weekend for some work and to celebrate both a friend and my little sister’s birthdays; I made it to the gym this morning for the first time in ages; and I’ve discovered the best tasting apples, ever.  These apples are like crack. 

[Update:  There’s been a new development.  These sonya apples may give the ambrosias a run for their money.]

I’m back, still exhausted but in love with Chicago. Michigan Street is a shopper’s paradise; Moonstruck has the best mint infused hot chocolate I’ve ever ever tasted; the aquarium is fun (I want a dolphin); Millennium Park is beautiful even in winter; midwesterners are as friendly as they’re reputed to be; Chicago deep dish pizza is the best food on earth; and, while it’s a mystery to me how they accomplish this, there’s an amazing view of the city skyline from any apartment in the city. If anyone wants to run away to Chicago with me, drop me a line. As soon as I thaw out (unfortunately, it’s heartbreakingly cold there), I can repack my bags. In the meanwhile, I’ll be burrowing in the office for the next few days.
Completely miscellaneous and unrelated tidbit: For those of you who haven’t already read it, this article about Gen Y associates is kind of interesting. Apparently wanting both a good salary and a decent quality of life is too much to ask for.