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

Actual email sent to JP1 at 9:01 pm tonight:

“Hey [JP1] – Should I stick around for comments on my [document] tonight or can I talk to you about it this weekend (if you’ll be in)?  I’m STARVING.  If you’d prefer to talk about it tonight though, I can stick around a bit longer.  I’ll just start gnawing on the furniture or something…”

Reponse received by JP1 at 9:20 pm:

“I’ll look at it this weekend.  Please go feed yourself.”

I read an article yesterday about the increasing weight problem in Vietnam.  One of the cases mentioned was of a young girl who weighs 114 pounds… and is 5’3″.  Um, does that strike anyone else as off?  Admittedly, she’s only eleven, but still, 114 pounds at 5’3″ is problematic?  That must be a mistake, right?  RIGHT?  PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD TELL ME IT’S A MISTAKE!

*Deep breath*

Roomie told me a story about an American born Taiwanese friend of hers who visited Taiwan several years ago and made the mistake of shopping for jeans.  Asian women, at least those not raised in the States, tend to be very, very thin and generally pretty short.  Roomie’s friend K was forced to buy jeans made by a brand that, roughly translated, means “Whale.”  Thankfully, I didn’t attempt to buy jeans while I was in Vietnam.  If being 114 pounds at 5’3″ is reflective of Vietnam’s obesity problem, then I may never go to back to my native country…although this does go a long way towards explaining why my Grandmother is always calling me chubby.  Who knew she was probably being nice and understating the case?

Since I’m on the issue of weight (I know – when aren’t I on the issue of weight?), I love this rant.  There’s an excerpt from J.K. Rowling that just kicks ass.

Sorry about the lack of updates recently.  I keep sitting down to write something, but end up doing more online shopping.  Latest purchase?  These incredibly cute, but horribly impractical wedges:

Yes, they’re teal, and seude, and too high to be comfortable, but aren’t they adorable?

Aside from the distraction that is online shopping (speaking of which, now that Roomie’s no longer home to sign for things, I’m getting an embarassing amount of clothing/shoes/purses shipped to my work address), I’ve just been having an “eh” couple of weeks.  I’m in the midst of reassessing some things, which is making me a bit cranky.  I’m very bad at reassessment / introspection.  I’m much better at shopping.

I’ve also been suffering through, as the Frog so aptly stated, some Awkward Body Days (“ABD”).  I’ve found that there’s no rhyme or reason behind when ABD’s hit.  Sometimes, you just wake up to discover that overnight, your body’s been replaced by someone else’s.  And unfortunately, that other person’s body doesn’t quite fit right, that other person has bad hair, is breaking out, is pudgier than you are, and can’t seem to dress in anything flattering.  I don’t know if this situation is unique to girls, but I’m happy to report that the stranger has vacated (for now) and I’m back.

I think I’m going to celebrate my return by going to Disneyland this weekend! =) 

Realized today that I just don’t have enough clutches. For all my purses, I only have one clutch. Sure, I rarely use the one I have, but that’s just because it’s a beautiful bronzy snake skin print that isn’t horribly practical. I’m CONVINCED that if I had a more subdued one, I’d use it all the time, so I’ve taken the plunge and bought a second clutch for my collection.

Now to be invited to clutch appropriate occasions. Also need to go to the beach and on more picnics so I can use my new purse. Hmm, I think what I really need is to acquire an appropriately fun lifestyle to match my purse collection. Where does one go to buy one of those? And can I get it in a size that’ll fit the three hours a week that I’m not working or sleeping? =)

My friends and I call our friend DJS (whom I adore – just in case you’re reading this DJS!) “The Grump” sometimes.  When he’s tired, you can almost see the clouds forming over his head and the mope lines settle across his face.

I’ve been feeling a bit like The Grump the last week or so.  I’m normally a very upbeat person, I fear irritatingly so sometimes.  For the last several months, I’ve surprised even myself by bounding out of bed at six every morning excited about going to the gym.  This morning, I had to drag myself out of bed and only managed to do so after a very stern talking to.

The Frog thinks it might be the weather.  It’s been abnormally cold for Los Angeles and I think I’m suffering from a bit of seasonal depression, which is extremely odd because (a) it hasn’t been that bad, (b) it hasn’t been “bad” for long, (c) there have been several really nice days between the “bad” days, and (d) (as the Frog astutely pointed out), I freaking lived in Boston – aka Bad Weather, USA – for three years and was (relatively) fine.

You know you’re a spoiled Californian when…

Well, not really, but I feel much, much better after having taken the weekend off (despite all intentions of coming into the office Sunday).  Roomie’s in London for the next three months, so I spent a good portion of the weekend cleaning and straightening up the apartment.  Since I’m never there, I’m hoping it’ll remain clean until she gets back to take over the ordinary household duties. 

Didn’t manage to get around to doing my taxes, or even organizing my paperwork enough to get my taxes done by someone, but did do three loads of laundry, went grocery shopping, went running with some friends from my running group (the official group disband after the LA Marathon), ate entirely too much, had drinks at Lola’s and tried to catch up on my sleep.  Unfortunately, some of this sleeping happened over dinner at the Cheesecake Factory on Saturday.  I’m starting to worry that people will be afraid to be seen with me in public for fear that I will spontaneously nap on them. . .and I mean this literally.  I was reclined so far back in my chair that (I didn’t realize this until after the dinner was over) my head was practically in the lap of the poor unfortunate stranger sitting to my right. 

A random gay man complimented my shoes this morning in the elevator.  I was really flattered.  Somehow compliments mean more when they come from gay men.  I don’t question it.  I just accept it.  That was pretty much the highlight of my week.

It’s been a tough week.  There are days I really enjoy what I do and love the fact that it’s challenging and allows me to use my brain in a way a lot of other jobs, even other legal jobs, wouldn’t.  Then there are days where I’d like nothing better than to turn off my brain and do something that isn’t so intellectually draining.  Every day this week has been one of those latter days.

Here’s hoping your week’s been better than mine.   

Oh, and on a more upbeat note – I signed up for another marathon in San Francisco this October!  I’m also contemplating running one in San Diego this June (unfortunately, I have a trial in the middle of June that’ll likely get in the way).  They should be fun – assuming I’ll be able to stay in shape for them. Help.  I think I may be developing an addiction.  (Speaking of which, I ended up buying the purse.)

Today was a great day for a marathon. As some of you know – i.e., anyone who’s so much as glanced at this blog* – I just so happen to have run my first one today. The weather was fantastic and I finished within my goal (04:50:24 – approximately 11 minute miles). See horribly-boasty medal below!

A few miles into the run, I was talking to my running group about the future marathons I wanted to do. By the end, I was cursing the fact that I was even doing this one. One of the quotes I’ve heard a lot is that you run the first 10 miles with your feet, the next 10 with your head, and the last 6 with your heart. It’s really true. The last 4 or 5 miles were really, really, really difficult, especially since my running group had completely disbanded by then due to various injuries and I finished the last 7 miles on my own.

Thanks again to all those who came out to support me. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. And thank you for everyone who called, texted and emailed. As for the rest of you (I’m talking to you mom and dad!), you’re on my shit list.

*Note to G – So I talked to ML last night. She ratted you out. =) You who read and comment frequently on my blog seriously didn’t know I was running in the LA marathon? Seriously? It’s the only other thing I talk about aside from purses and shoes! In fact, now that it’s over, I don’t know how I’m going to fill the content gap. There are only so many pictures of purses and shoes I can post before my readers will rebel! =)

I know, I know.  I owe y’all a new post.  I actually have one in the works which started out as a cute concept but proved to be too difficult to execute.  So, like everything else difficult in my life, I’ve decided to give up on it.  At least for now.

In the meanwhile, you, my loyals readers, will just have to bear with yet another ill-conceived, stream-of-consciousness, random hodgepodge. 

Since I’m sure you’re all dying to know what purse I currently covet, here it is. 

Isn’t it great?  Can’t you just see me walking along the beach with it at sunset?  I showed the purse to my sister, who first scoffed at the notion that I was contemplating yet another purse purchase, then drooled when she saw it and started emptying out her piggy bank (she’s a student). 

I also really like these shoes:

I see these resting on my feet as I sip a latte at a cute European cafe.

When not dreaming of trips to the tropics or a life of leisure in Europe, I’ve been working.  Work’s been a little crazy recently, everyone’s stressed out and slightly on edge, and I’ve been much busier than I’d like.  (Sigh.) 

Managed to sneak away from the office long enough to see the Ashes and Snow photography exhibit in Santa Monica this weekend.  The photographs were fantastic.  The rest of it was…interesting.  There were some great video images (mostly humans in repose next to wildlife – elephants, orangutans, and cheetas, etc.), but the accompanying faux-deep running commentary was kind of crap.  To paraphrase, “In the beginning, elephants used to fly and would sleep with one eye open to watch over us.  When you look into the sky, that’s what you see…”  (Seriously.) 

The marathon’s this Sunday.  (Yay!)  I’m super excited.  I just have to avoid injury for the rest of the week!  Being tied to my desk should help with that…

Diet’s going okay.  (Eh.)  I actually managed to wear my thin jeans for an extended period of time and not die though.  Admittedly, I may have blacked out for a few moments from lack of oxygen.  Whatever.  Breathing’s overrated.

Oh, and if you haven’t tried it – Starbuck’s toffee nut latte.  (Yum.)  Get it.

There’s a great article in today’s New York Times about Trader Joes.  There’s one in my neighborhood, but I haven’t been in months – the parking lot’s always crowded and it’s not on my way to or from anywhere.  Plus, as a very good friend of mine once pointed out, only “pointy-nosed white women” (remember – her words, not mine!) shop there.  =) 

More importantly, Trader Joes doesn’t carry 8th Continent’s fat free vanilla soy milk, a staple in my diet.  They do carry fantastic chocolate covered soy beans, caramel rice snacks, and dried strawberries however.  Yummmm. 

Wait – I think I feel my nose growing…I’ll be at TJ’s if anyone needs me…

Favorite gmail chat exchange of the day:

J:  I’ve been really busy at work recently.

Me:  Yes, I remember reading that you guys made more money than the US mint last year.

J:  That’s because we’ve been twice as evil.  We have two oil spills planned for this upcoming year.  Maybe one near a pony ranch. 

Me:  Yeah, oil-soaked penguins are old news.  (Actually, I just made this up right now.  I was too busy laughing at the time to come up with a response of any sort.)

Oh, and FYI, apparently oil-soaked penguins are so par for the course that there’s an organization that knits sweaters for them.  

All together now – Awwwwwwwwwww.

It rained rather heavily last night – the biggest storm so far this winter.  Of course, it actually only rained for about five hours and the sun’s back up and shining this morning.  Still, LA was apparently devastated by the torrential downpour yesterday, judging by the fact that every single traffic light between my apartment and the office (a six mile stretch) was wiped out.  Police officers swarmed the streets trying to maintain order.  Where traffic is concerned, LA is always poised on the edge of anarchy. 

I swear, if Armageddon hits, this city is the first to go – unless Armageddon is accompanied by lots of sunshine and warm weather (which, what with all the talk of global warming, is a distinct possibility).  

Unfortunately the shoes did not work out.  I love these dresses though.  The one on the left I can actually semi-afford.  The one on the right is entirely outside of my budget.  I have no occasion to wear either however.  (For the love of God, someone give me an occasion!  Any occasion!!)

And I promise, at some point there will be something to this blog other than a series of pictures of things I want.  Really. 

I ordered these last week.  They should be arriving tomorrow.  Aren’t they beautiful? *Loving sigh*

The heels are over 3 inches tall, which means they’ll be insanely uncomfortable, but as long as I don’t attempt something silly, like walking in them, I should be fine.  And, hey, at least they’ll keep the hems of my new jeans from dragging the floor!

Yes, I also bought new jeans.  As soon as I lose a smidge of weight, the first thing I generally do is run out and foolishly buy a pair (or, um, three) of new jeans.  I often do this before verifying that the weight loss is due to something more than a temporary tear in the fabric of the universe.  I have a pair I bought a couple of years ago that I was only able to wear once before the universe righted itself again and they stopped fitting.  Well, either the tear is back and space/time as we know it is in danger or I’ve lost weight – I tried them on this week and am at the point where I can button them again.  A few more pounds and I might also be able to breathe while wearing them.  =)

It was pitch black and pouring as I drove to Santa Monica at 6:30 this morning for my 26.2 mile run.  It was the kind of rain LA gets only once or twice a year.  I was convinced I was crazy and that no one would be there. 

“I’ll just drop by in case someone is there and tell them I won’t be running today.  After all, no sane person would attempt to run in this weather,” I thought.  Apparently runners are a little crazy.  All ten of us showed up, despite the downpour, shivering and wearing garbage bags to stay dry.  It was the first time I felt like a real runner. 

Fortunately, the sky miraculously cleared up and we were able to complete the run in beautiful weather.  I’d secretly hoped for as much during my drive, but was still stunned when it happened.  I was expecting to be wet and miserable during the run, and likely sick afterwards, but aside from dodging massive puddles, it was perfect.  And unlike the 22 mile run, when my body shut down during the last two miles, I felt great the entire time today and finished feeling like there were still a couple of miles in me.  Yay! 

(Sorry, I know some of you hate my “I love running” posts.  Please feel free to skip reading this one!  Although I guess if you’ve already made it this far, it’s too late.  If it makes you feel any better, the running high’s gone and I’m limping and a little miserable right now!)

We were discussing diets in my office the other day, as we often do, when I mentioned I’ve been doing Weight Watchers on and off for the last couple of years.  One of the very nice, super-skinny secretaries gasped in a flattering manner and said, “You don’t need to lose any weight!  What are you, [redacted] pounds? (citing a range ten to fifteen pounds lighter than my actual weight).”

I froze, looking like the proverbial deer caught in the headlights.  Panic.  Someone had blatantly asked my weight?  What to do?  What to do?

Swiftly thinking (not), I mumbled, “Um, actually, I weigh [redacted].” 

The aforementioned secretary blinked once before blurting out, “No, really?”

“Yes.”

“Well, maybe you have heavy bones.”

Later on in the day, I recounted this conversation to JP1, complete with redactions. 

JP1:  So what do you really weigh?

Me:  I’m not going to tell you!  And stop right there, I can tell you’re going to guess.  That is never a good idea.

JP1:  You look about my wife’s size.

Me:  Um, is this the wife you mentioned is chubby?

JP1:  Yes.

Me:  You realize I’m going to tell everyone in the office you’ve called me fat, right?

JP1:  I’ve put my foot in my mouth again, haven’t I?

Me:  Yes.

Women are insane. 

I went to La Salsa today with super-skinny co-worker N.  N is, for some reason, still fanatically dieting for her wedding in Cabo. 

Anyways, we ended up in two different lines at La Salsa.  I order a chile-lime chicken salad.  It comes with chicken, tomatoes, chile-lime dressing, tortilla chip strips, avocados, and cheese.   I ask them to hold the chile-lime dressing, tortilla chip strips, avocados, and cheese. 

N orders a chicken taco salad which comes with chicken, tomatoes, rice, beans, guacamole and sour cream.  She asks them to hold the rice, beans, guacamole and sour cream. 

Maybe tomorrow I’ll ask for a bean and cheese burrito, but substitute chicken for the beans, tomatoes for the cheese, and salad for the tortilla.  =)

Note:  It’s been brought to my attention that the funniest part of this story isn’t very clear.  [*Pretend I’m Roomie*]  See – the salads were THE SAME.  They started out as entirely DIFFERENT salads, but ended up with the exact same ingredients!  Hence, the last line about starting with a burrito tomorrow and ending up with the same salad.  Funny, right?  [*Just agree with me*]

It is sweet. 

My hearing went really well today, so I’m going to do all the celebrating on this blog that I didn’t get to do in court.  Apparently they don’t like it when you start dancing on the benches.  =)

(*happy dance*)

I was nervous while waiting in my car (I ended up arriving insanely early) but was fine once I got into the courtroom.  It was definitely odd being the youngest attorney there though.  And the shortest.  And the womanest.  Which is not to say I was more womanly than the other female attorneys, just that there weren’t any other female attorneys.

(*continues the happy dance*)

(*stops, ponders*) 

Uh, I’m not being obnoxious, am I? 

Remember when I said I was done with purses?  I may have purchased another one last week.  It may have arrived in the mail today.  I may have been admiring it all morning.  The hypothetical purse may or may not look like the following (but in a rich, chocolatey brown):

I’m not admitting to anything, but I may have a problem.

I was going to write about my weekend in Arizona, but the Frog did such a great job here, I don’t really have anything to add! 

Oh, but while I have your attention, I might as well share a short work story.  So, I have my first hearing this Thursday.  I’m arguing two motions and am a little nervous (i.e., terrified).  I made the mistake of seeking reassurance from JP1, who, while fantastic, is not so warm and fuzzy.  When asked if he had any advice for me, he replied, “Don’t cry.”  I’m not making any promises.

In any case, I’m hoping if I use the word “clearly” often enough, the judge will rule in my favor.  For those lucky few reading this who aren’t lawyers, “clearly” is an attorney’s favorite word.  The magic in “clearly” is that it transforms mere speculation into incontrovertible fact.  It’s the blankie in our legal lexicon.  As long as we can cling to it, we’re safe.  Clearly.