Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Getting the Shakes





So we're about halfway through this 30 to 30 Challenge. I am wearing real clothes today because I am actually out of the house (pictures to come later!). But here's the thing. The hardest part of this challenge is the no shopping. Seriously, you guys. I went to Stein Mart last night looking for a fireplace screen (no luck, in case you were wondering) and I had to close my eyes to walk past the shoe section. It isn't clothes I crave. It's shoes. DSW's website has become my porn. And the SM Ollie bootie just got marked down. Seriously! This kills me. You know what else I want to buy?





 Scarves. Wraps. Warm things in which to snuggle. Fall has finally deigned to visit the valley and it is COLD and I want to wrap myself in cashmere and poly/rayon blends. I am also discovering another problem with the seasons here. Everyone else started the challenge during autumn, and the end will probably fall at the beginning of winter, temperature-wise. Right? I don't know how seasons really work. Here, it's hot for a long time and then it's cold for a couple months, and then it's hot again. Well, I started this challenge during out 2 week "autumn," which is when it's chilly at night, but still warm-ish during the day. Now, it's chilly all the time, and I didn't pick out any sweaters because it wasn't sweater time yet. I have to hope my cardis get me through, I guess. I also did not think through the items I selected very well. Recall that I picked 5 tops. Do you know what color those tops were? Blue. Some shade of blue, off white, black, and black and white. That's pretty much it. There is an overwhelming amount of blue in my 30 for 30 section of my closet, something I did not notice when I was grabbing clothes and throwing them on the floor hours after moving all my stuff to a new apartment. Next time, I really need to be more prepared. I need to think things through for more than 15 minutes. Also, between the end of this challenge and the start of next challenge, I need to add a lot more colors that are not in the blue family to my wardrobe. And I NEED SHOES. Platform heels, booties, oxfords hklnjdjknvjkdhpaskml;dsc. Seriously, all I can think about are shoes. Guess what the paper I am STILL writing is NOT about. Shoes. I'm pretty sure it's going to turn out "In Katz, the defendant was convicted Steve Madden booties counts of transmitting Seychelles wagering information Zappos narrow width 4in-4 3/4in nude platform by telephone WHEN CAN I BUY SHOES AGAIN OHDEARGOD THE PAIN."

Sigh. At least tomorrow is my favorite holiday, and I get to sit around eating tons of food with my family until I pass out. (Remember, everyone, elastic waistbands!) I'll also take the time to be thankful for the shoes I DO have. A lot of people don't even have cute shoes, you guys. I'm blessed.


I'd be super blessed to have those puppies in my closet, though. (Says the girl who should not legally own any more pairs of black heels.)

I'm also blessed to have my family, including my big brother who just convinced me I can easily get to 20 pages in this Type Z Darla in grey patent paper. And my family, whom I hopefully will not torture by lecturing them on the "reasonable expectation of privacy" hooey. I'm extremely happy they let me cook for them and bring them stuffed mushrooms for appetizers. And I'm thankful for my boyfriend, who is not here. I'm blessed to have such a kind and understanding person who puts up with me, and I'm fortunate that I miss him when he's gone. Instead of being fortunate that he's gone, as I was with other people I may have dated.


(This pie is probably 9,000 times better than the last couple boys I dated, present company excluded, of course.)
Happy Thanksgiving, doves!

C'mer you delicious, juicy bird.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Excuse MUCH. Rude, or anything?

I know, I haven't been posting outfit pics. It's because I've been going naked these past couple of days. Just kidding. I just haven't been getting "dressed" in a true sense of the word. With no classes left this semester, I haven't had a reason to leave the house, and, accordingly, I have been wearing pajamas all day, and if I do, it's into something pajama-like. Workout clothes, at the most. Right now I'm wearing yoga pants and a hot pink long-sleeved t-shirt. And yes, I did sleep in this. But I added a bra, because I'm classy.

Trust, you're not really missing anything. I'm camped out with my laptop, a Word document, and a stack or law review articles, working on my AWR. Mulder is right next to my chair. And I'm about ready to go make a Lean Cuisine for lunch.

If you have any thoughts on Fourth Amendment protection from the government or the concept of "widely shared societal expectations," feel free to share. I need someone to write this puppy for me.

Friday, November 19, 2010

Sorry, no pictures

You know how I said I'm working on my paper? Well, I wouldn't be me if I were not procrastinating.

I woke up this morning thinking about a book I read a few years ago. This one. I did not like this book, and in a fit of rage and not wanting to read about the Fourth Amendment, I wrote something about it. I'm gonna post it here because I feel like it.


I read this book a few years ago. I had made the mistake of confessing my love of trashy “historical” romance novels to a group of friends from church. A few of them immediately insisted I read Francine Rivers’ most famous book. I stupidly thought that since the book was “Christian,” it would not be as sugary and junky as my guilty pleasures. In the interest of full disclosure, I’ll admit it: I love Philippa Gregory’s Tudor novels. It’s sickening, but some people eat chocolate; I read trashy romances that purport to be historical. It’s unhealthy, and I know I should limit myself, but we all have our vices. Every time I read one of those amazingly overwrought, inaccurate bound books of empty calories, my teeth hurt and my stomach feels warm and sick. I get embarrassed, like I need to conceal the evidence and stick the candy in the cupboard behind the fridge and hope I forget about it. I was hoping that this Christian novel would provide that silly, fluffy, romance storyline, but not make me feel so bloated and gross. I was wrong. “Redeeming Love” is so much worse. It’s disguised as a retelling of Hosea and Gomez from the Old Testament, but set in the Gold Rush Days in the wild west. It sounds interesting, but Rivers molests the true message of the Biblical story and turns it into a “romance” between a “soiled dove” and a “man of God.” You’re supposed to find this compelling and believe that this is just like how God pursues us and wants us to love Him.

I read through a number of reviews, and apparently I am the only one who thinks Michael Hosea should be locked up. First, he abducts “Angel,” the woman who was sold into prostitution as a child and who has been living her life the only way she knows. To me, Angel is a victim of slavery and abuse, stuck in a terrible situation and has no control over her own life. To Francine Rivers and Michael Hosea, however, she is a big old sinner in need of salvation for her wicked ways. To compound this insanity, Michael Hosea hears the voice of God telling him to marry this woman and make her his wife. So Michael does the only reasonable thing, which is carry an unconscious woman away, have a minister proclaim them married, despite the fact that Angel can no way consent to this, and then falsely imprison her on his ranch, where she begrudgingly performs manual labor and “takes care” of Michael. Unsurprisingly, Angel decides she’s had enough and determines that her old life was better than living with this crazy person who thinks God is talking to him, and she leaves. But she needs a ride, and the person who gives her a lift demands sex as payment. Other readers apparently believe this means Angel is a whore and a slut, but to me, it was her only way out of yet another life she didn’t choose.

The story drags on and on and becomes repetitive. Angel leaves, Michael goes and gets her. Angel leaves again and Michael goes and gets her. I know the story of Hosea and Gomez, so the novel dragged on. The entire time, Michael insists on calling Angel “Sarah,” just like the controlling, manipulative nightmare of a man he is. Because, see, Angel isn’t good enough for him. To him, “Angel” is a dirty prostitute, and he needs a good, clean woman. So he just decides to change her identity. I wanted to hit Michael Hosea approximately every 5 pages. I felt so bad for Angel the entire time. She clearly wanted Michael to just leave her alone and to be her own person. I know the story, so I know that this is supposed to be about God’s love and unending pursuit, but Michael is so unlikeable and Angel has such a sad tale that it just doesn’t work.
Finally, Angel ends up in a gold rush town, befriends a kind family who takes care of her, and begins to have her own independent life, where men don’t use her for sex, where she isn’t a slave to the whims and finances of others, and where she is a person who deserves respect. At this point, I was so happy for Angel. She finally seemed to have what she deserved in life! I wanted her to put this whole “Michael’s wife” thing behind her and move on and use her experiences to help others in need. But that’s not what Francine wants for her protagonist. Instead, Angel returns to Michael, deciding she can fully submit to him and love him now. At this point, I gritted my teeth and decided just to plow through to reach the end of the book.

This book is not any more intellectually or spiritually stimulating as my conniving, manipulative, adulterous Tudors. It’s actually more insulting. It beats its readers over their heads reminding us that “God loves you!” and tries to force us to like Michael Hosea by justifying everything he does. It talks down to the reader in short, choppy sentences and the old “fade to black” doctrine every scene that ends with sexy times. It wants us to pity Angel by giving her a tragic, dark past, but at the same time, demands that we judge her for having sex for money. It attempts to solicit interest in its terribly one-dimensional characters. Worst of all, the ending takes the clichéd and easy way out: Angel, who apparently could not have a child due to her previous lifestyle, is suddenly and miraculously pregnant! She can finally give her husband a son (hopefully, because girls are so emotional and difficult, oh those silly, whorish girls!). This comes after a discussion with Miriam, and woman I liked up until she declared that being a wife and having children is the most important thing for a woman. WHAT? How about seeking God’s will for your own life, and living a life pleasing to Christ? No. Get married and knocked up, girls. That’s your job. So of course, at the end, Angel has to be pregnant so she can be a true woman and perform her womanly duties.

When I read the last period on the last page, I roared and threw that book across the room. I will never feel guilty reading my campy, trashy historical romances ever again.
At this point, I would like to discuss some concerns raised by other readers. First, yes, this book has some very dark and disturbing scenes. Is it porn? No. Porn is about sexual arousal; the scenes in this book are true things that happen every day, and they’re the only way poor Francine can give her protagonist any interest or make her readers feel sympathy for her. The scenes are not designed to titillate. They’re designed to nauseate and evoke emotion for the victim of sexual violence. If you’re giving this book to your daughter to read and this is a concern for you, sure, read it. But don’t think just because it’s sexual it’s pornographic. Also, you have a bit of ostrich syndrome if you think you can just pretend this doesn’t happen if you don’t read about it. Children and women are still sold into slavery every day. Sticking your head in the sand doesn’t make it not true.

Second, other writers have explained it, but this story is not like Hosea and Gomez. Michael marries a woman who is not Christian, which is outside God’s law in the Old Testament. But in the actual story, both Gomez and Hosea were Jewish, so God was not telling Hosea anything contrary to the law.

Thirdly, I have a huge problem with how many Christian women, and apparently Christian churches are encouraging this book. Michael Hosea’s actions are cruel and criminal, yet he is supposed to be a man of God doing God’s will. Really? God wanted him to abduct an unconscious woman and keep her away from other people on his ranch in the middle of nowhere? Putting aside the fact that a man who says he hears God’s voice would be a lunatic in this day and age, I have a seriously hard time believing that Michael is doing God’s will by kidnapping a woman and marrying her against her will. (When he asks her to marry him, she is in and out of consciousness and mumbles something like, “Sure” before passing out again. Does this sound like a woman consenting to marriage?) Then, in this sham of a marriage, I’m supposed to believe that God condones their sexual intimacy? Try again, Francine.

It’s one thing for a secular romance novel to possess this level of behavior, but I truly expected more from something that purports to be Christian.

The end.

I forgot I wanted to also address the readers who seemed to think that Ms. Rivers conveyed a true marriage. I just wanted to point out that while I am not married, I hope that if I do get married, it will be to someone I love and who loves me back, not someone to abducts me and uses me as slave labor. I also hope that if I am in a marriage, I have had the opportunity to give my full consent.

That's all. Really. I spent an hour ranting about a dumb book. Amazon tried to tell me I should be between about 75 to 300 words. My review weighs in at a little more than 1500 words. I know, I need help.

Days 10 and 11: Maybe There's a Shark in the Water

It's been a pretty busy week at casa de Annie. Between finishing up edits on a massive law review article and working on my own paper, I've spent far more time sitting in front of a computer than I would like. The good news is that I only have one day of class left, and that's for only one class! Also, I found out I have two take home finals and only one in-class, which is my trial. (Yikes!) I'm feeling a lot better, too, so that's always exciting. Especially for Mulder and Boyfriend.

Day 10 was Wednesday. I had Pretrial Practice and wanted to be comfy because I had my last "quiz" in that class. I also had to sit through possibly my last editing meeting! 



Top: ModCloth
Jeans: NYC Blank
Boots: (I'll get back to you on that! Just realized I don't know!)

Thursday, Day 11, was my last Thursday class of the semester. That's three classes, one of which I was my closing argument (yes, the one I thought I was going to do on Tuesday). I knew I wanted to wear these pants, but I really wanted to soften them up a bit, so I added the lavender cardi. One of my professors mentioned how it helped my closing argument, which was defending a woman accused of murder; the justification was self-defense. I guess it's good to know - for my trial I will be playing the role of the prosecutor, which plays well to my lack of emotion and drama.


Cardi: J.Crew chiffon
Pants: Express Editor
Heels: Kate Spade
Earrings: Nordstrom
Necklace: pictured with Tiffany & Co. heart tag, but I switched it out for a long J.Crew necklace, which I took off during lunch and forgot to put back on for my closing

Day 12 doesn't have an outfit. I've been in workout clothes all day. Not cause I'm working out. I'm securely sitting on my butt. But because I've been reading for my paper. Mostly re-reading. I read all this back when I wrote my outline, but that was a number of weeks ago, and I can't remember what I'm supposed to be talking about.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Day 9 - Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury

Today I'm feeling a bit more like myself, so I had a bit more fun getting dressed. If "fun" equals a pencil skirt and button-down, which it does to me. I'm weird like that.

I have a closing argument today in Trial Practice. It isn't mandatory that we dress up, and I don't dress up for these kind of assignments, but Tuesdays and Thursdays I do try to dress with a bit more effort, because that class is taught by three adjuncts, all of whom I hope to know someday on a professional basis. As far as I'm concerned, every day is a job interview at law school, so it's always best to err on the side of professionalism. Plus, when I know I'm going to be the focus of attention, I feel better if I look the part, or at least more the part than I would in jeans and a tee shirt. I don't know how some of those people do it.

Don't worry, the dog doesn't go with the outfit when I leave the house. But if I am standing around, he stands next to me and stares at me.





See?



Top: Rogan for Target (I haven't been wearing this shirt much, which is why I put it in my 30 for 30)
Skirt: Express
Shoes: Kate Spade
Necklace: J. Crew
Glasses: Coach (yes, I need them to see when I am reading.)

I love this necklace more and more every day, and I like its chunkiness. 

Off to Lawyer Pretend Time!

Monday, November 15, 2010

Day 8: Porchrail

What happened this weekend? A whole lotta nothing. Saturday I went shopping with my mom (house shopping! not clothes shopping!) and I wore the purple sweater dress from me 30 for 30 pile with the BR wedges and a pair of leggings. I didn't get pics, though, so use your imagination. Yesterday I went with Boyfriend to his riding lesson, and I didn't wear any of my official 30 for 30 pieces, but I really couldn't. It requires different clothing, like working out. Other than that, I spend probably about 20 hours on law review stuff. No lie.

Here's todays' outfit. I'm still not feeling totally great right now, and I'm still sticking with safe outfits. I hope once I'm feeling better, I'll try branching out.

 Top: Anthropologie (I forget its name)
Jeans: Banana Republic
Cardigan: J. Crew
Shoes: Nine West (I can't stay away from them for long!)






You guys are going to be seeing a lot of this little guy. He is my shadow. My shadow who sits on my lap and leaves blonde hair all over me. Sorry, I just can't get rid of him, not even for a second.

Oh, and the title is from a new album I downloaded last night called "Batten the Hatches," by Jenny Owen Young. I listened to it while I ran this morning, and I love it. This is the name of one of the songs, and it seemed fitting.

Friday, November 12, 2010

Day 5 - English Style

In an effort to stay on track, I'm bringing you the only non-blurry photo I took of today's outfit... the outfit I didn't put on until about 5 this afternoon. It was really one of those days, on top of one of those weeks.

If it hadn't been for RT week, I don't think I would have made it out of my pajamas today. Not that I didn't do anything - I spent a good chunk of my day cite checking for my last law review article of the semester. Which explains the face in these pics, along with the consistent blurriness. Dead face from editing, and blurry from the wine in which I consoled myself from the day of editing. Anyway. I acknowledge the lack of enthusiasm in this post, and I apologize. Tomorrow I am shopping for my new home with my mom, so hopefully I will have revived spirits.


Anthropologie Highest Accolades dress
Old Navy cardi
J. Crew dot tights
Anthro Bright Bulb earrings in peach
Miss Bisou wedges

(And Mulder's polyfil-free fox on the crate)

Everyone has bad days. Today was mine. I hate when people say "FML," because it's like, cheer up charlie, things aren't that bad. People have it way worse. But sometimes, days just suck. That's ok. Because tomorrow is a clean slate. And now it's time for bed, so tomorrow can arrive sooner. I really need that blank slate right now.