No Points For Guessing What The Soul-Eating Beast Represents

I just signed up for this year's NaNoWriMo. I'm not going back to school till Dec. 10 (leg is still gimpy) and have no employment prospects in sight, so I feel like I'd better redeem myself by writing a 50,000-word novel in a month. Especially considering that I started this blog to catalog my creative pursuits, which so far have been notable for their absence.

I'm not sure what I'm going to write about (not that that stopped me in 2005, the first and only year I did this. In 2006 I was busy studying for the LSAT and in 2007 I was busy being miserable in law school). I've kicked around the idea of a Kelly Link-esque supernatural romance featuring a soul-eating beast, until I realized I was bored with writing or even thinking about romance. I might do it anyway. I have done absolutely no research or outlining--again, something that deterred me not in the least in 2005. I know people who are doing extensive plotting and research beforehand, and while I applaud their diligence, it's more my style just to hit the ground running and see where my imagination takes me. You're probably starting to get a fuller idea of why I was epic fail at law school.

I'll try to post my word count at least weekly. Beyond that, I can't promise anything, except that my protagonist will not be more than 10% me. The last thing I need is to commit myself to 50,000 words about my navel. Bleah. Like I don't do enough of that here.

I Will Never Work For Sarah Palin

...tempting as the gig may sound in my current state of poverty.

Hola, Amigos. I Know It's Been A Long Time Since I Rapped At Ya

I'm moving n' shit. I'm going to buy some shoes for school today, which should be fun, although the "not likely to maim me when I walk in them" criterion rules out 99% of everything I like.

As promised before I dye it darker so I might have a chance of getting a job outside a tattoo parlor, here's a photo:


(I don't know who I think I'm kidding with those shades.)

I'm still not very happy with this haircut. My entire head is now covered with bangs, and when I don't style it I remind myself of Mark McKinney in the Stinky Pink wig. The clerk at the 7-11 near my place said to me, "What happened to your hair?! It used to be so beautiful!" This seems to be the general consensus. Good thing I'm not dating. When it grows out I'm going back to the inverted bob, trendy or no. Sometimes there's a good reason for having the same haircut for six years.

Answer The Question, Claire

Update: It looks much better now that I have washed all the "product" out and bleached it a couple times. Vaguely Molly Ringwald-ish. I may post a photo when I get it to the color I want, which I have yet to determine.

In Which I Do Something Stupid To My Hair Just So I'll Have Something To Blog About

A word to the wise: If you're over 30, never bring in a photo of a girl half your age with a cute choppy haircut and ask your hairstylist to replicate it on your own head. Even in the hands of the most skilled of hair gurus, you will end up looking every one of your 33 years.

Maybe I'll like it better in a week or so. By then I'll probably have dyed it some insane color (and hope that doesn't end up aging me further).

Shaming Your Ancestors Is Awesome

I'm half Japanese. That means I avoided math like the plague even though I was pretty good at it, I'm not considered conventionally attractive although some people fetishize my exotic looks, and I was very happy to see Asians portrayed as stoners in the Harold and Kumar movies (and I practically idolize Kelly, the Indian woman on The Office, who's a world-class ditz, and an AWESOME one). This Onion article pretty accurately describes my valiant battle against "positive" stereotypes. I just want to party, not achieve!


To get back to the part about exotic looks and fetishism, I was annoyed to see this white girl dressed all geisha in the Harajuku Lovers ad at left. What, couldn't they find an actual Asian chick?! Not that I expect authenticity from anything involving Gwen Stefani. But this is the kind of thing that made me want to kill myself when I was a teenager. In a way, it's led to my decision to become a cosmetologist. I want to study these Western beauty standards in depth, deconstruct these golden means, and see if I can help expand the conventional definition of beauty. I do not want to see one more Asian girl growing up hating herself because she thinks she doesn't look white enough to be considered "pretty." Fuck that shit.

So here's who I wish had been around when I was in high school: Thao Nguyen.

It seems never to have occurred to her that she couldn't become the next Kim Deal or Cat Power just because she's Vietnamese. She's cool as a lick of ice cream, and she's gorgeous while still being unapologetically nonwhite. Someone puts her in a perfume ad, I'll buy that shit. Harajuku Lovers, you are dead to me.

Not For All The Tea In China, Not If I Could Sing Like A Bird

Disregard, please, the previous post. I'm never going back to law school. Unless I start to crave the ageless beauty of fluorescent lights and pinstripes and billable hours; and eating, sleeping, breathing, and dying for the law starts to sound like a viable lifestyle choice; and I decide that racing to the upper middle class is more important to me than being happy. If I ever start to sound like that, please call the nearest loony bin, for I will have become an irredeemable douchebag. Kthxbye.

Backpedaling FTW

Maybe it's just the medication I'm taking for my leg,¹ but I'm actually considering going back to law school. For an actual cromulent reason.

I was on the board for an obscure activity (let's say it was Law Students Against Cutting Your Own Bangs). It was the only leadership position I'd ever held in my life. I was good at what I did because I believed genuinely in the cause. I found the work gratifying and even almost fun at times. I regretfully abandoned my post when I left. But apparently no one else wants the position, and I have been called upon to resume my duties even in my absence from the law school. Assuming I ever got my JD and passed the bar, I probably wouldn't be able to do much with it beyond a low-paying non-profit job, but at least it would make me feel like I'd accomplished... something in my largely wasted life. Or, in my mother's words: "JUST BE A FUCKING ADULT ALREADY AND DECIDE WHAT YOU WANT."

The trouble is, I don't know what I want. This is just a case of grass-is-always-greener-ism, right? I'm just flattered because I feel needed, right? I was only ever attracted to the law because of my deep-seated class issues, right? I hated everything else about law school, right? What would really make me happy would be to make people look and feel fabulous while pursuing my creative interests on the side, right? The mere existence of this blog just proves I am too flaky for the legal profession. Right?

I honestly don't know.

¹(mainly beer)