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

Best wishes for the new year!  I’m off to London next week so I’ll check in with you all next year.  Thanks much for the gifts, cards, and well wishes.  To those of you I managed to track down and send cards to, hope you liked them and didn’t think (a) I was too dorky or (b) the fill in the blank cards were a lazy attempt to get out of writing real messages (although, to be honest, they were).  Those of you I wasn’t able to track down, I blame you.

Oh, and for anyone trying to get ahold of me, my phone’s been disconnected.  Long story, but I’ll be back with my new number in January.  I’ll be spamming you with my new contact information then.

Take care!

I know I’ve mentioned a couple of times that I don’t do diamonds.  Mostly because it’s easy.  They don’t really tempt me.  I’m too practical to be deeply enamored of jewelry and I don’t like being manipulated by DeBeers (the blood diamonds thing aside).  I don’t advertise it, but anyone who knows me well knows I won’t buy and don’t wear diamonds.  Anyone who doesn’t know me well certainly wouldn’t be buying me diamonds.  Or so I thought. 

Today, SP, the best boss and possibly best person in the world, surprised A1, A2, and I with diamond earrings.  I seriously love this woman.  Anyways,  I just hope she never notices I never wear them.

So I know I promised to keep this blog relatively content-free (which is why I’m not linking to any articles or discussing Robertson’s resignation), but I have to ask –  at this point, if the New York Times broke the news that Bush ate babies for breakfast, would the nation even blink?

People.  I love my running group.  I love the interaction with other runners.  Interating with strangers is rare in LA’s car-centric culture.  I talked to the most fascinating engineer during my run today.  He saved money for two years as an undergrad in order to travel for 19 months through Australia, Asia and Europe before begining his career.  So cool.  Anyways, I made a general comment about how the last two miles are always tough.  The girl behind me commented that I was talking, which was a good sign I wasn’t overexerting myself.  The guy next to me, a story developer for Disney, said, “Yeah, you sound totally relaxed, and have for most of the run.”  This prompted me to ask if that was his polite way of saying I’ve been chattering non-stop for four hours and may want to think about stopping?  Laughter ensued, although sadly no one denied the charge. 

Excercise.  It’s good for you.  Although maybe not so good for your joints and stuff, but nothing’s perfect.

Food.  More exercise means more eating.  (This may also be why I don’t appear to be losing any weight.)  Plus, I secretly like food in bar form and running gives me an excuse to eat food bars with minimal guilt.

Accomplishment.  It’s nice to know you’ve burned a day’s worth of calories before many people have even gotten out of bed. 

Improvement.  It’s amazing how quickly your endurance and speed improve when you’re running.  This is in contrast to the many other things I’ve done and shown no improvement in (five years of piano lessons, a sad attempt at tennis, three snowboarding trips, some sad skating – actually, this list is getting depressing, so I’m just going to stop now).

Apparel.  Running clothes are cute.  My black running shorts with the red and yellow piping on the side are adorable.  And I have a nifty running hat. 

Conversation starter.  It’s nice to have a response other than “napping” when people ask if one has a hobby.

(FYI – My twenty mile run was GREAT today, which made me think about why I love running.  Hence this particular post.) 

I love this dress.  Yes, it’s a little promy, but it’s also fun, flirty and flattering to most body types.

These are fantastic handmade silver bracelets you can customize.  Just think of all the creative things you could write on them!  Or simply stamp your name on them.  Because, let’s face it, people like seeing their name on things.  (It’s not just me, right?)

My fashionista co-worker and I have spent many non-billable minutes eyeing these boots, which are cute and on sale, but impractical for LA.

This purse is adorable and makes me look forward to spring.

This may be the perfect light work jacket.  Its military-esquness might even inspire efficiency (although I guess the military isn’t really know for its efficiency).  Unfortunately, one of my work friends and I chipped in to buy it for another work friend, which means I can’t buy it myself.  This is especially unfortunate since this is the only item on the list I can actually afford!  =(

And last but not least, some of my favorite rings from my favorite Czech site.  They remind me a little of Frank Gehry’s designs (which I love), with a slightly more linear edge (if that makes any sense).  Gorgeous as they are though, the cost of shipping makes them merely a pipe dream.  This store alone makes me want to go back to Prague. 

I’d posted earlier about the guy who poured beer on himself to placate his upset girlfriend. I was thinking about other chivalrous acts this morning, ones we see every day. One of my favorites is the “No Guy Can Get Off The Elevator Until All The Women Who Need To Have Gotten Off” rule. Ever since I’ve moved to this new building, back in late January, no one’s violated this rule. It’s amazing. Even guys who are in a rush and dying to run off somewhere won’t do so until all the women who need to get off the elevator do so.

This morning, it was just me and another guy going up to the main floor from the parking garage. As the elevator opened on the main floor, he took one step forward as if he was getting out. He then immediately jerked back, flushed slightly, apologized profusely and said several times, “Please, you first.” This rather drastic reaction to a simple step was one of the cutest things I’ve seen in awhile. I may have said, “Thank you,” but I’m sure my eyes were actually saying, “I could hug you, that was so adorable.”

On a completely unrelated topic brought up by ML this morning, my butt is disappearing. I think it’s the running. This is sad as I’ve never had much of a butt to begin with. (Hello, I’m Asian.) I mourn its loss every morning as I put on my increasingly saggy pants. Of course, the pants are sagging only in that particular region as weight has refused to budge from anywhere else on my body. It’s as if my body has unilaterally decided to sacrifice my behind for the good of the team.  Really, shouldn’t I be consulted on things like that?

JP1 and I (and another associate) share the same secretary.  The three of us have decided to get her a gift certificate.  We just can’t decide what kind.  The other associate and I want to get her a gift certificate to a spa.  JP1 wants to get a Visa gift card.  I ran into JP1 as I was getting ready to leave tonight:

JP1:  The Visa gift card is more practical.

Me:  Christmas isn’t about being practical!  Otherwise, we’d skip gift-giving altogether and just buy ourselves what we want for Christmas.

JP1:  Uh . . . isn’t that what you –

Me:  – yes, whatever, that’s beside the point.

JP1:  I’ve asked previous secretaries and they’ve all told me they’d prefer whatever’s closest to cash.

Me:  Maybe that’s because they’re afraid of the alternative.

JP1:  Are you saying I have bad taste?!

Me:  No, just that you’re a boy.

JP1:  I just think we should be practical. 

Me:  I know JP1, but not everyone’s like you.  If we get her the Visa card, she’ll spend it on her family.  If we get her a spa gift card, she’ll be forced to indulge.

JP1:  Shouldn’t she have the choice whether to indulge?

Me:  No. 

JP1:  Why not?

Me:  You are SUCH an engineer.  [Note:  JP1 used to be a structural engineer.]  Fine.  You win.  Let’s get her the Visa card.  But just because I’ve been taught to respect my elders.  Clearly.

A part of me in wincing even as I write this, but this site, Cute Overload, is absolutely too adorable not to bring to your attention.  The slightly snarky comments help a little bit, but the cuteness quota is still sky high.  (Thanks E!)

I accidently got on the down elevator when I intended to go up this morning.  Of course I realized this too late to do anything about it and ended up having to take it down 22 flights to the ground floor.  I ran into the Managing Partner on the ground floor, who looked at me askance for not getting off.

MP:  —?

Me:  Um, I got on the wrong elevator.

MP:  You know, there are ferris wheels and roller coasters and things like that if you like rides.

Me:  Yes, but none of them are in the office and I have to liven up my day somehow.

(*awkward silence for 17 flights*)

[Elevator opens on 17th floor, no one enters.]

Me:  That was my belated and wild attempt to stop the descent.

MP:  Oh.

(*awkward silence for remaining 5 flights*)

My Roomie’s pointed out that my posts of late have been slightly more academic…more intellectual…more content filled then usual.  I half-heartedly protested, but was convinced when Rommie said, “Listen, I like them too much, okay?” 

When your brilliant, academically bent, seven year grad student, PhD candidate, former Harvard Law roommate tells you she likes your posts too much, you know it’s time to worry.  So I apologize.  I apologize for venting about the direction of the Supreme Court.  I apologize for raving about words I love.  I apologize in advance for the uber-geeky (but hilarious!) Christmas cards I bought and may or may not actually get around to sending out. 

I try to contain my inner geek, but sometimes she sneaks out.  Like at the holiday party I was at today – where I jealously eyed someone else’s white elephant (gag) gift:  a DVD documentary of the 1893 Chicago’s World’s Fair.  After having read Erik Larson’s The Devil in the White City, I find the 1893 World’s Fair fascinating.  Enough so that I ended up stealing the DVD at the end of the night, forcing me to face a fair* amount of derision from the other guests.

* Um, no pun intended.  (Okay, okay, I intended to make the pun – I’m sorry – I need help.)

P.S.  In an attempt to get my posts back on track, I should note that I spied this beautiful Michael Kors bag at the party.  I saw it in the bag room but never did find out who it belonged to. 

Sigh. Looks like the Solomon Amendment, which withholds federal grants from universities that don’t open their doors to military recruiters, is here to stay despite vigorous protest from law schools, which generally have nondiscrimination policies covering sexual orientation. Why am I not surprised?

And is it bad that every quote from Roberts in this article makes me grit my teeth? Add to that Geeky Chic’s recent posts about Alito and I think we’re doomed.

I wonder how some words are born and where they go to die?  I can see the birth of slang and the birth of new words to describe new phenomenons, but what about variations of words to describe common concepts?  For example, there are multiple means of describing people with great or varied learning.  Among other things, one could have had an “eclectic education.”  One can be “well-rounded,” “erudite,” “learned,” or a “Renaissance man” (or woman).  All these are different ways to describe what is essentially the same idea, so why do we have (recently discovered WOTWIFLI) polymath?  Were the distinctions between these terms important enough to merit the creation of another word entirely?  When did the English language decide that no pre-existing description, either singularly or in some combination, sufficed?  

Do obscure words add to or take away from our ability to communicate?  Words can be snapshots of complicated concepts and ideas, but if they’re so far from common parlance that no one understands them, what’s their purpose?*  (Even in writing this, I’m wondering:  Is “parlance” understandable?  Would the phrase “common speech” have been just as good?  Am I just being pretentious?) 

Okay, I’m done rambling about words now.  Sorry, it’s late and I’m obviously delirious.  We’ll see how long this post survives before I read it and go, “Huh.  What was I on?”  =)  Night all.

* Not to be presumption and assume that if I didn’t know a word, it must be obscure.  

First, a running update.  Eighteen mile run was great.  I was thinking about how much I love our running route.  We get to watch a beautiful sunrise over the ocean and follow it as it creeps up on the marina.  As the morning progresses, the sky’s soft pastel palette gives way to a bright blue.  And on this particular run, we crossed a low-lying stretch of land surrounded by piercing blue water on both sides.  Although it was chillier than usual, we all still showed up before daybreak in our running shorts.  Shorts.  In December.  I really can’t imagine that there are many better places to train for a marathon.

Second, those of you who know me (i.e., everyone who reads this blog because I force them to and then quiz them about it) know I’m generally super laid back.  I don’t get stressed easily and I definitely don’t anger easily.  I do however ocasionally obsess over completely mundane and random things.  Most recently, this lead me to pay $33 for a paperback book.  It was $33 because I had to have it shipped from Australia.  Yup, Australia.  It’s the third book in one of my favorite series.  I picked up the first book in the US.  I bought the second one from the UK when I realized there was a year difference in the US/UK release dates.  I purchased the most recent one from Australia because I couldn’t even wait for the UK release.  At this rate, I may have to purchase the next book from Antartica.  I’m estimating that reading this entire series will cost me approximately a million dollars.

Third, I’ve realized (again) that I should never, ever try to do work from home. Ever.  Seriously, why do I keep deluding myself?  Why?  Sigh.  Not so coincidentally, this week’s WOTWIFLI is faineant.  As in, I’ve definitely been more faineant than diligent this weekend.

There’s really no point to this post other than that I read this great quote and wanted to share it: 

“A lot of people are afraid of heights.  Not me, I’m afraid of widths.”

This quote also lends itself to a deeper analysis of why we’re all afraid of being fat, but I’ve got a holiday party to go to and food to eat.  =)

Also, did anyone read about how needles need to be longer because American behinds have gotten so big that the needles currently being used no longer adequately puncture the skin and fat to reach muscle for injections?