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

Yes, it may be the end of the world as we know it. It was inevitable, but it still hurts. Between this, Canada’s conservative shift and Hamas’ surprising victory, I feel a little queasy. I’m going to bed. Wake me up when it’s 2046. If there is a 2046.

I generally don’t follow high fashion, and consequently know nothing about it, but I stumbled across Christian Lacroix’s Spring 2006 line and really liked it.  There are some interesting and beautiful dresses.  These are two I particularly liked.  I absolutely love the first one (that shade of blue is a great foil to the white and gold, the skirt has a neat drape, and the shoulders are gorgeous). 

It’s funny what creates communities and how that changes over time and with age.  In college, we bonded over tv shows and music.  In law school, it was classes and law firms.  At work, it’s apparently, at least partially, shoes.  I was talking to two co-workers yesterday when both I and the other co-worker, C, noticed K’s shoes . . .

Me:  “Those are so cute!”

C:  “I love how they compliment that skirt.”

Me:  “Are they Marc Jacob’s?”

K:  “Yeah.  I love him.”

C:  [*laughs*] “I was at a friend’s party this weekend when I noticed this girls’s shoes.  I asked her if they were BCBG.  My boyfriend W was astonished that I recognize them when there are thousands of different shoes.  Guess I’m not the only one!”

Yes, this is the kind of in-depth converstation we have at work.  In some seriousness, it’s nice when you find commonalities, even when it’s something as innocuous as a preference for certain shoes.

Speaking of shoes, my new black pumps are the most comfortable shoes ever.  It’s like walking on clouds.  Or on fluffy sheep.  I mean, I clearly have to order them in brown too, right?   (Um, cause I already did.)  Hmm, and maybe another pair in black, for when these become worn out . . . 

I took one of those Real Age tests recently, where they factor in your lifestyle, family history, etc. to determine your “real age” versus your actual age.  The good news is that my “real age” is a spry 22!  The bad news is that in no way changes the fact that I’m actually (*shudder*) 27.

Oh, and is anyone else following the British/Russian spying scandal developing?  Cause, seriously, a fake rock?  I can’t decide if that’s really cool or incredibly lame.  Someone please tell me what to think.

I just don’t get it. I’m utterly and completely baffled by socially conservative ideology.* Admittedly, I tend to be overly logical (believe it or not) and am devotedly non-religious, so maybe that explains my fundamental inability to grasp what I perceive to be logical loopholes. My most recent, “Huh?” moment came today as I was reading about the Supreme Court’s decision regarding Oregon’s assisted suicide law (oh, and it most definitely looks like the Roberts, Thomas, Scalia bloc is quickly solidifying – scary!). Anyways, I just don’t understand those on the right who vehemently oppose assisted suicide but whole-hearted embrace the death penalty (*cough* Bush administration *cough*). Nothing I’ve ever read (which admittedly hasn’t been that much) has done anything to resolve this apparent contradiction to me. Anyone?

* I realize that I’m painting with a very broad brush and that even within the group I’m loosely defining as social conservatives, there are varying viewpoints. I also realize most people reading this are probably in my camp and are similarly baffled, but if anyone could shed some light, it would be greatly appreciated. Otherwise, feel free to rant with me. =) Oh, and yes, it is sad that I can no longer write anything without multiple disclaimers. D*mn you law school/legal career!

** And as a complete non-sequitur (which is really my goal for this blog), has anyone seen Banana Republic’s new premier purses line? Part of me winces because some of them are blatant rip offs of “It” bags, but part of me simply rejoices in the cuteness of it all. There are some seriously cute, almost affordable bags (it’s all relative after all) in their collection.

I’ve had a spectacularly unproductive weekend.  Lots of lounging broken only by vigorous bouts of napping.  I’ve also been actively avoiding my growing list of must-be-done-right-now-ASAP-seriously-get-off-your-lazy-ass errands (so if you haven’t gotten your Christmas gifts yet, know at least that you’re on the list).  This level of unproductiveness has required a great deal of denial and laziness, but I have persevered.

A few days ago I was having lunch with two of my co-workers when a girl approached our table.  After staring at me for a bit, she blinked and said, “Y?  Is that you?”

I had no idea who she was.

Halfway through our forced conversation, one in which I tried to mask the confusion on my face and awkwardly avoided introducing her to my co-workers, she revealed that she was my suitemate during my last year of law school.  Apparently I didn’t hide my confusion well enough.  (Although it was a good thing she said something  because I was just about to guess that she was one of my former LSAT students!)  Sadly, even with this bit of information, it wasn’t until we exchanged cards and promises to meet up for lunch that I remembered her name.  And by “remembered,” I mean I looked at her business card.

I feel bad about it.  I lived next door to this girl for a year.  I remember now that she always had her television blasting and walked around with face cream on all the time.  She was friendly, but definitely a peripheral part of my law school life.  Still, I should have remembered her. 

The incident made me think of all the people that have flitted in and out of my life.  I like to think I remember the important ones, but there are so many blank faces and nameless shadows floating in the murky darkness that passes for my memory that I wonder if I’m wrong.  In the past couple of days, I’ve been trying to recall all the other people in my life I’ve forgotten.  I realize many people have much better memories than I do, but I imagine that we all must have them – those people that occupied the background of our lives for short periods, that flickered in our field of vision between blinks.  People who certainly exist but who don’t feel real, who haven’t acquired the substance of a friend or loved one.  Childhood playmates formed before memory was even a possibility, friends of friends who never became more than that, brief crushes who only evoke flashes of feeling but no real memory, classmates who were transitory fixtures for months at a time.  Odd to think that in someone’s mind, I’m one of those unreal background people.

Because I’m a fan of all things Whedon, here’s a short funny article by him on the future of television.

Finished my twenty-two mile run today.  The first twenty miles were awesome, fantastic, all that is good in the world.  The last two miles were Dante’s Inferno.  I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry “uncle.” 

Running longer distances becomes a battle between your mind and your body.  Some days, the mind’s ready to go, but the body’s less willing.  Understandable since it has to do the actual work.  Today was one of those days.  Today, my body said “f*ck it” at about twenty one and a half miles.  I managed to lift one foot after the other in a parody of running for the last half mile, but it was excruciating.  I blame it on lack of exercise in the last two weeks due to traveling, holiday weight gain, my incipient cold, an inexplicable onset of insomnia last night, the dog eating my homework…oh, and the fact that I had already run twenty-one and a half f*cking miles.  Am currently hobbling like a little old man.  Sad.  Very sad.

Sidenote:  The interesting woman I was talking to during the run today was a TV writer and informed me that Amanda Bynes is a lovely, down to earth person.  This makes me happy since Amanda Bynes is my favorite tween star.  Yes, I have a favorite tween star.  I’ve already admitted to being sad!  =) 

I’ve been thinking a lot about writing a book recently. Or at least the thought has cross my mind on two or three occasions, which is a lot of thinking for me since I’m not generally a reflective person. I have some vague ideas floating about which I’m trying to flesh out. Certainly not the next Great American Novel, but I can’t really think of myself as a frustrated writer turned attorney without having tried the writing thing at least once, right? Besides, writing a book can’t be that hard, can it? =)

Quick books-related plug:  I love barnesandnobles.com.  It’s a little more expensive (making their discount members club worthwhile), but there’s free three day shipping and they ship items quickly.  Amazon.com has been irritatingly slow recently so I’m off to greener pastures until they improve.  Because, of course, there’s no such thing as customer loyalty nowadays.   

Got back from London a few days ago.  (Spied tons of drool-worthy purses while there.  Fendi Spy bags and Chloe Paddingtons everywhere.  Not that I’m into that kind of thing or anything!)  Caught up with old friends, took a trip to Bath, saw Chicago, went clubbing, celebrated New Year’s Eve in Trafalgar Square, and ate at my favorite restaurant ever (Food for Thought).  Also did some shopping, although the only thing I ended up with was a cool silver pendant by Scottish jeweller Ola Gorie, similar to the one pictured: 

Almost died of frostbite. It was really, really cold. (Despite what my travelmates say!) I love London, except for the cold, and would love to move back to the UK, except for the cold. Did I mention it was really cold? And that I almost died? Well, it was and I did. I’m not getting redundant, am I? (My poor, poor travelmates. You can imagine what the week was like for them.)  I think the problem is that I have a bad short term memory.  As a result, every minute that I’m cold is the coldest I’ve ever been.

Visited the Victoria & Albert Museum and the British Museum. The V&A has a fantastic fashion display consisting of Queen Maud of Norway’s wardrobe from the early 1900’s. There’s a gorgeous Dale Chihuly glass sculpture in the lobby (see below) and a slightly surreal corridor of casts of famous historical artifacts and artwork. 

Western museums are always slightly problematic for me because of the whole colonial imperialism and controversy over “stolen” artifacts thing. The British Museum is especially problematic since it’s infamous for the problem, what with the Greeks wanting the Elgin marbles back and the Egyptians wanting the Rosetta Stone back. That aside, it was lots of fun;  the lobby was beautiful (see below).

Saw tons of movies on the excruciatingly long plane ride. You know all those movies you’d never go see in a theater and probably don’t want to see enough to even rent, but would see if stuck in a tin can for over twenty hours?  Quick rundown of the onboard shows I saw:

• Fantastic Four – Eh.
• The Island – Surprisingly watchable.
• The 40 Year Old Virgin – Cringe-inducingly embarrassing at times, but rather enjoyable overall. Loved the male camaraderie.
• Sky High – My favorite movie of the flight. Because I am secretly a ten year old boy.
• Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory – WTF?

Between movies I managed make it through part of Jared Diamond’s Collapse, a sequel of sorts to Guns, Germs and Steel.  Although fascinating, it’s a little too depressing for light plane reading as the collapse of societies is a central theme and the descent into cannibalism is a common reoccurrence.