I meant to start out this blog post by commenting on how Valentine's Day sex is such a cliche - but yet I KNOW for a fact that tons of people do it anyway (because look at all my friends and family with November birthdays). But then I decided not to say it, because that would just be crass.

So having avoided making any controversial statements, I just want to make a special shout-out to all of my brothers, all of whom presumably are by-products of Cupid nooky: Tim turned 15 on November 3, Jon turned 17 on November 12, and Benj is 22 today.

As for my post title, it hearkens back to the days when my grasp of how the world worked had not yet caught up to my overabundant imagination. When Benj was born, I became a big sister for the first (but not last) time. Nobody asked me for specific thoughts on it (other than "Do you like him?"), but I remember gravely thinking how nice it was to have a brother. Because if he had been a girl, I would have been a big brother instead.

...It made sense in my head.

Benj, Jon, Tim, thanks for making me a sister. It's been a pleasure.

P.S. I was lying about avoiding the topic of parents having sex. ^_^

Generally, you'd think more education would be a good thing. But no, ever since the recession, law school is the new teen pregnancy. It's just not cool. "Everyone is doing it." And they all suck at it, complaining left and right about torts and memos and that dreaded childbirth equivalent, The Bar. And even if they didn't suck, aren't there enough bastards in the world already? Why should anyone spend so much more to manufacture so much more douchebaggery?

Oh, the scorn. The hate! The disdain. Society frowns so much upon it. We all know people who have/are in law school. We're glad for them, "as long as it makes them happy." We secretly put them on our mental shit list. We look at them furtively at dinner parties to see if they're showing yet. Ah, yes, he totally popped... not a baby belly, but enough arrogance to fill one. Naysayers may timidly speak up regarding the importance of celebrating life regardless of its origin... but no, THAT kind of a life is an affront to us all.

Clearly, God hates judgmental people, because I have been smitten down by that which I once myself scorned. I once scoffed at all those little people who "were thinking of law school." It could be good for them, oh, could it? Perhaps GOOD HARD WORK would be better for them! Alas, nevermore!

I find myself waking up early in the morning, seized by a slight sensation of nausea arising in the back of my throat. Is it... Ach, what have I gotten myself into? If only I had thought it through a little more! But no. I run out to acquire a test. I take the test. I read my destiny in its results.

And thus I find myself firmly entrenched once more in the ranks of those who seek their identity in acquiring a new title... and will soon learn just how many levels of hell earth can hold.

Once the morning sickness - more aptly known as all-day awfulness - subsides, there comes that long period of waiting... waiting... waiting... and yet more waiting as the dread grows ever deeper. Good habits are thrown to the wind - diet, what diet? Snacks and harmful behaviors take over - "It's just for a short while; I totally need and deserve these indulgences." And ever nearer looms D-Day.

That final stretch. The test of it all. You're barreling down a roller coaster track; a section is missing and there is no emergency brake. Even if you wanted to flee now, it's too late. Too much has been invested. Your life savings, your future life savings, your body, your mind, your soul. There is no escape from the ring of fire, the rite of passage that will birth you from a mere expectant J.D. into a full-fledged attorney. The Bar. Three intense days to prove your worth, preceded by two months so awful you actually welcome the active labor. You're so ready to be done. Come hell or high water, you just can't take it any more.

It is a collective understanding of all these symptoms that leads most people to frown upon teen pregn-- I mean, attending law school. "What, you want a baby? Go get a puppy instead!" "You have no idea what you're getting into." The desire to save someone from guaranteed misery supersedes traditional boundaries of Minding One's Business. Fortunately, the caliber of one's support is an easy gauge of said person's true friendship. Your friends will stick by you even when you break their fingers during a contraction. The haters will demand to hold your child, pass along some germs, and then say "Oh, I told you so."

It's true. Not everyone is ready to shoulder that kind of responsibility, and some don't necessarily recognize that fact. But sometimes, parenthood is what it takes to grow a person up. Conrad Hilton - of hotel chain and promiscuous great-niece fame - once said that his son Barron quit being immature the moment his own son was born. And sometimes, people are young but they know early on what they want to have. Or sometimes they think children are a blessing from the Lord. Even if it comes through stretch marks and tears galore, they look back at the end and know they wouldn't trade the experience for anything.

Being a teen mother doesn't necessarily mean you got knocked up at prom.

OK, I annoy myself sometimes/a lot of the time. I'm great today. I'm on a total high today. I don't think it's straight-up hormones. I think I have ADD. No, seriously, I looked up 81 symptoms and I think I have about 58 of them. (Yes, don't self-diagnose, etc. etc. but they were good guidelines to aid in assessing my behavioral issues) I'm going to DO something about this!! I stood in the sunshine today. I ate leafy greens. I dunno. I had a cry last night (so much for outgrowing those by age 20 like I thought I would) and that helped a whole lot. I feel less tense, somehow. Less like I'm wasting time, being useless, can't do anything right, whatever. It's definitely not that I slept enough, but I physically feel so very different somewhere. There isn't a rubber band constricting me. I didn't do anything differently! I guess I just took some time out to feel my emotions, whether or not I wanted to. Hm. Good to know that too.

My newest biggest pet scheme is taking that competitive drive and applying it to something like law school. I wanted to be a missionary or a farmer when I was 8, but then I thought being a lawyer would be cool. I was shot down by my mother, who apparently has way more sway over me than I thought I did. (She thought it would be complicated to practice international law or something.) My main concern at this point is that I don't want to practice law. But I also said that about being a journalist, so... Yeah. I donno. I think I really crave the discipline I know it will bring me. I love the idea of the people I can encounter and the connections I can make. I love the backgrounds they'll bring to the table. And since I really love UT, and I really want to do something journalism-and-law-related, I'm so psyched about what my old boss and favorite professor is hoping to do to integrate the two schools. I had an email exchange with him this morning, which I think has a big deal to do with why I'm giddy. Regardless... LSAT is in the future and I'm so excited about that. It reminds me of how everyone thought I was crazy for loving the SAT prep so much but I totally did. (I hate it when I let societal norms dictate how I think I should feel; who'm I kidding - I loved that test and everything I learned from it) And the GRE is as well, but that one's less of a challenge. I'm excited about brushing up on my skills with a goal in mind.

Man, I'm so psyched. I've probably ranted here about my aversion to gym-based fitness before - weight rooms, treadmills, the like. I hate that simulated feeling. I like doing actual stuff. I think this academic thing is the same way... College was so simulated (even though I loved my life) So I think studying with a goal in mind is going to mean so much to me. Part of the reason I was so unmotivated in college was because there was no real competition. Yeah, GPA, blah blah, but that didn't mean diddlysquat to me and my future at the time. I dunno. I love UT. I love it. I remember walking around campus during finals time and grinning up like an idiot because I was so happy with my life. I know, who gets like that around finals, right? But it wasn't that I loved tests, it was just that I loved knowing I was DOING something that would produce some kind of results. This idea has finally germinated a bit and I'm SO UNBELIEVABLY RELIEVED because whew, now I think like a normal person again.

Something I do want to remember about the future is this. I fluctuate between wanting to be different from everyone else, and also not being able to fit in with everyone else. On the one hand with normal things, I've never done/been/had the same experiences as most of my peers. I can't even use their scissors with comfort (I'm a leftie). At the same time, I guess I have some deep-seated (very human) need to be different and to live my life with more significance or something. I'll get over the arrogance part of it, but I just want to know that if I go to law school, I'm going in with a purpose. I've talked to a lot of my law school friends and I think many of them see it as a means to an end - a rich and successful career, etc. That's why, when crunch time comes around, many get disheartened because the appeal of money and fame and fortune isn't enough to get you through those rough patches. But I think, while the end goal of improving my discipline and career options is awesome, I'm going to love law school for itself. Studying will probably result in many explosive outbursts of frustration from me, but at the same time, I think it really could give me back that silly grin-in-the-sunshine behavior. I will approach it with all the deliberation and hindsight experience college provided me. I'm sure I'll get my ass kicked in a few rounds but I'll know that I'm there because I wanted it so badly - not because "I graduated and I didn't have a job and I didn't want to go to grad school for science-related things." I thought about psychology. I thought about social work. I thought about journalism and I thought about public policy. All of those things still appeal to me, but I know I'll do my best work in a fighting environment. I'm going to encounter tons and tons of people I can't stand. I'm also going to meet a select few people who command my respect. I'm going to slog through absolute bricks of boring stuff that could probably bring me to tears through sheer lack of creativity. But there will be a few gems of inspiration here and there that will make me realize why I exist.

I do still want to be a photographer. I do still want to chronicle people's stories. But there are so many ways in which this educational choice could enhance those goals. Yes, it's a huge investment and I gulp whenever I think about the sheer quantity of time and money that would be involved. But I also feel like... this is who I've been made to be. I want it. I need it. I'm growling for it! I'm looking forward so much to getting broken up into little bits and put back together, to stretching my brain until I can't take it any more, and then doing it a little more. I can't wait to embrace the pain and the tears and the awfulness because the end result will be so epic. At the very least... my mind is already doing all of these things to itself right now anyway. I might as well put it to gnawing on something worthwhile. Money's never been something I cared very much about - hence my rather flighty spending habits - and I greatly prefer to trade it for unforgettable experiences. If this isn't one, I don't know what would be.

Mainly, I want to remember this. For better or for worse, I am me and generally unlike most other people. So while they are a great benchmark for taste-testing sashimi or for commiserating over a bad movie, their aggregated reactions should not dictate my view of life. I've done a lot of whining over the opportunities I feel like I've missed throughout life, but I'm so tired of that. I mostly only do it when I don't feel like I have an outlet for success. Now the dammed floodgates have opened and holy moly, out pours the Kat.

...Um, I think I just talked myself into applying for law school. I'm sorry, guys, you're going to see some intense blogging like you never have before. I'm probably not going to go before 2011. It kind of depresses me that if I go, I'll be 30 the year I graduate. At the same time, I KNOW I wouldn't be happy "just being a wife and mom" right now. No offense to the many wonderful and fantastic ones I know and love - but I would probably shake my babies at this point with the intensity of whatever rages inside of me, and I would really like to not do that. :P No, instead I will go shake down the evil dictators of the world. If the pen is mightier than the sword, and persuasive logical writing can effect any change in this world, I'm going to poke down the Berlin Wall and the Iron Curtain and any other modern-day equivalents with the combined force of all of my passion. And then I'll come home all spent and cuddle on my rescued little orphan babies or something. Dude. I'm so psyched.

I feel a bit like I was made to be a laser of sorts, but I haven't had the proper mirrors directing my focus for a really long time and have burnt all sorts of scratches on everything. But now I've begun getting fixed, and it's going to be so awesome. I already hear the little motors churning away inside of me. (That, or it's the 13 Claussen pickle spears I ate this morning)

I'm going to spend the next year or so doing all the prep work I can. I already have some awesome connections and that gives me such a great head start. Oh, man. (I was so relieved from the sudden cessation of stress that I think the presentation I've been worrying about for a week wrote itself in my head in half an hour) I'd forgotten how much I love deadlines. I know I am a little too addicted to adrenaline - and I'll work on the physical aspects of that - but I'm sure with the right balance of calming sources and direction, this can be managed with aplomb.

...I'm crazy. I love me again. Last night I hated me. Oh, whatever. :P All the same thing.

Two weeks ago, I was pretty convinced I wouldn't ever go to law school. At that time, I was already planning to write about the connection I see between journalism and law and their application to society and God's mandate for Christians. I'll write it up sometime. I want to live again. I want to live it to the max.

I really feel the urge to blog, although I'm not quite sure where I'll begin. So maybe I'll just begin, and it will sort itself out somehow.

Random observation: It's not the opulent desires in life that debilitate you, but the little hopes and dreams just beyond your fingers' reach that really make you discontent.

Weekend of girls

I spent most of the weekend at Pei's bachelorette party. Despite a few setbacks, like a lot of the attendees being sick or otherwise physically indisposed, we had a really good time. As I remarked to Pei in the car, it's not difficult to have a good time when you're around people with whom you instinctively feel pretty comfortable. Pei and her friend Prissy are very much like me on a certain wavelength, and that just makes it easy to bounce around and tell secrets and giggle and dance around even when you don't know much about the other person. We went to the K Street Lounge, where we discovered that people seemed to be more interested in watching boxing than they were in dancing or anything else. Seriously, it was just like a standing-room-only sports bar with clubby music and lights. You could actually hear the men roaring collectively whenever Pacquiao landed a blow. (I knew less than nothing about boxing until last night, when I was at least forced to learn these men's names because they were flashing at me from no less than a dozen TV screens. Really, who does that in a club? *shakes head*) After the game ended, though, we all had a good time. I'm sure the champagne and mixed drinks helped too. All-girl parties can be pretty fun. We were next to a group of adorably fobby Chinese people, who danced around in what I will henceforth refer to as "The Eel" with great vim and vigor. The Eel is this sort of writhing motion many overseas Asian girls like to perform... sort of like a body roll, but done sideways instead of front-to-back, and with extreme speed. I'm not a good dancer to begin with, but even my attempts to visually illustrate this phenomenon are total fails. I saw it a lot in Taiwan and China, but I haven't seen it done Stateside any time recently so it gave me the courage to step up to the group and ask where they were from. We had some relatively friendly exchanges (their girls excitedly danced with Pei and "Eeled" up on her), and I successfully convinced the guys to polish off our Grey Goose by telling them that Taiwanese girls are better at drinking alcohol than Chinese guys, then chugging a large glass of orange juice (which they thought was spiked with vodka). Thanks to that deceptive tactic, I am not hungover at all.

The lingerie shower part was fun! There was a lot of cuteness going around. Aww, I think lingerie is some of the cutest stuff around. Gee, even the word is cute. Lingerie provides an unabashed opportunity to be as expressive of your femininity as you want. Mmmmmm. Unders. (Oh, whatever, it's been a good long time since I talked about skivvies on my blog. Long overdue, I say.) The, um, toy party was a new thing for me but it was surprisingly tasteful. I was not expecting that. "You know you work at a human rights non-profit when..." ...well, when you go to a hostess party on aspects of sexual gratification and think to yourself that much of this information could go a long way to making many battered women see sex in a more positive light. It could be a fascinating thesis topic. (What I really mean is that it would be the exact kind of controversial thesis topic I'd pick) No, but seriously, properly addressing sex in many societal contexts would do a LOT to eradicate a lot of sexual violence in the world. At the very least, ignorant people might stop raping infants in AIDS-stricken countries in hopes of a cure. Yes, I just went there - not for sensationalism, but because it really bugs me that so few people know about the issue and do something to counteract it. Simple educational measures, you know, would make such a big difference.

Um, anyways, that was such a total tangent.

Sisters

Before I left for the bachelorette party last night, I was working on a blog post about sisters. Since my mom miscarried the only other girl she ever conceived besides me, I have "a lot of love to give and nobody to give it to," I guess you could say. I have always been rather fascinated by sisterhood. With all due respect to my very masculine three brothers, I believe some seriously fervent prayers were sent up to heaven during my mother's pregnancies. I failed epically each time, since I ended up with very emphatically BOY siblings. And that's been just great - I strongly believe that I am a much cooler person because I grew up with all boys than I would otherwise be. Hah! I would've been that namby pamby prissy girl who feels entitled to everything going her own way, I'm sure.

Despite not having any biological little sisters of my own, I nevertheless seem to have attracted a little Pied Piper's gaggle of them throughout my life. (Which is great, don't get me wrong) While most of my friends tried desperately to escape their clingy toddling sisters, I usually wanted to pick them up, play with them, love on them (and give them back when I was done playing with the dolly). I've always appreciated that bond which can form between two women who are close in passions, dreams, and heart. In that respect, age is just a number. I really like younger girls, maybe because sometimes I see them as the little sisters I always wanted to have. I feel like hey, I can never pass on tips about tampons and cramps and boy-crushes to my brothers... but maybe someone else can benefit from them like I would have appreciated during my formative years! It's cool to be around a specific demographic who, instead of communicating in occasional grunts of assent, have as much of a desire to communicate and be understood as I have. Actually, having had three teen men in my life... that desire is nothing short of miraculous.

It's been really cool seeing some of those girls grow up. One of the trippiest relationships I have is with a 15-year-old girl who lives in my parents' community in Taiwan. She and her little brothers are best friends with my two youngest brothers; they are homeschooled because of my family and share similar backgrounds in part because of association with us. It's so strange for me to see her at 15, because I feel like I was just there yesterday. I had the same fears, hopes, dreams, frustrations, and questions. But for many of those years, I felt profoundly alone because I didn't have someone near my age to tell me it was okay to wonder about those things, and to guide me in a constructive manner through my issues. I remember acutely how those experiences made me feel, because I still struggle with their consequences today. (Yes, I sound like a huge drama queen but the truth is the truth and I say it with minimal bitterness; I really have moved on for the most part) I feel particularly drawn to share my experiences with this girl, partially because I'm older and I've been there and I can help, of course, but also because I've found significant healing in attempting to talk her through some of those worries. Verbalizing my own pain and trying to help her find answers has helped me understand my own circumstances better, so I can let go of the past more easily. Gee, nobody told me helping other people was supposed to be so personally beneficial. Does this still count toward my brownie points?

I've begun feeling pretty old of late, because most of my Austin girls have all grown up. I really do love them as sisters or distant cousins or some similar form of kinship. Girls I met and began to love when they were 12 are turning 20. Even the younger groups I met and mentored through ACC's high school youth group retreats are in high school. Many are seniors this year and applying for colleges. Once again, I was "just there" a few years ago, anxious about the future, hopeful about my dorm roommate, worried that I wouldn't have a school to go to, confused about how the system worked. Gee, how time does fly. I'm so proud of my girls, but at the same time, it's hard to let go of those relationships a little bit and understand that they need me less now. I guess these transitions help me refocus and remember that I'm here to give them what they need, not to take what I need from them. So I write them little Facebook messages, accept that they're often too busy to jot me more than a note, and stalk their blogs and send them little love notes when they get depressed over something. What's funny is that much of their behavior used to be somewhat incomprehensible to me. Like how could girls be so catty toward each other when I, from a more neutral standpoint, can totally see where the misunderstanding sprung on both sides? Or how could they possibly think they're ugly when they're so noticeably adorable? Or why would they like to giggle over such stupid actors and teen heartthrobs? Gee. But the more I grew to know and love 'em, the more it all made sense. And it also made me a lot more aware of how I probably annoy slightly older people a lot.

I've also been on the receiving end of that love. Although I am and always will be a guy-friend kind of girl, the people who have shaped me the most have probably been the ladies 5-15 years older who made me feel safe enough to ask them the tough questions I needed to voice in order to move forward in life. Who accepted me enough to cheer me on through some admittedly radical decisions (head-shaving? :P). Whose personal openness made me realize it's OK to be myself and to fail and to let people know that I fail.

I was going to write another sub-section, but I don't think my thoughts have percolated enough for me to disseminate them yet. Things almost always go badly for me when I let a half-baked idea go out into the world on its little own, so I will hold off on that for now.

Thanks for letting me waste 30 minutes of your time. :P And yes, I realize I'm horrifically behind on visual updates from my life. Argh.

They just get to analyze race-related jokes. Lolol.

16. While traveling to Japan, a low-ranking US ambassador asked a Japanese official why Japanese people were so inscrutable. The official looked calm and friendly, responding in a gentle voice that he much preferred to think upon his race as inscrutable than of his race as wanting in perspicacity such as in Americans.

Of the following statements, which best describes the Japanese official's comment?

A. All people are inscrutable, not just the Japanese
B. Most Americans don't understand Japanese culture
C. What a person lacks in perception may be a result of the carelessness of the observer, instead of the obscurity within the object being observed.
D. The Japanese distrust American ambassadors
E. If the East and West are ever to understand one another, there will need to be a much better cultural understanding

I'm doing a presentation next week and I'd like to hear your thoughts on aspects of societal, peer and parental pressure that concern you. (This mostly applies to high school and college-age youth, I guess)

What are some of the things your parents ask, demand, beg, or otherwise expect of you? Good grades? Choice of certain career paths? Religious behavior? Curfew? Dress code? Dating rules? And do you know the "Why" behind any of these?

If you can reply to this blog post, or leave a comment on Facebook, or email me at chix0rgirl at gmail dot com, that would be awesome. THANK YOU.

Today was another bad day, both in terms of environmental and emotional sunniness.

But "good/bad" does not seem to have much of a bearing on "significant/insignificant," which is also a good observation to make.

I am "so busy" this week, by which I mean it's kinda like how the week before finals used to go for me. I would whine a lot and crunch a little bit. It will all work out fine. I wish concentration wasn't so difficult for me. Where are them happy pills?!

www.katherinefan.com :)

Thanks for the help, Oliver.

I'll make a real Web site.

... Someday.

...But just looking at my Flickr proves to me that my last two years have been incredibly blessed. (Yeah, some people are Thomases about this stuff. Shush you)

Thank you, God, for memories preserved through photography. Not just for the travels and the friends and the fun, but just for the powerful impact of those visual reminders.

Since Fall 2007, I've...

• gone to Chicago, Los Angeles, Beijing, Xi'an, Hangzhou, Shanghai, Taiwan (four times by the end of this year, if you don't count treating it as a stop between China and the U.S.) Hong Kong, Macau, D.C., various Texas cities, upstate New York
• rented a car alone for the first time
• moved outside of Texas for the first time
  
• [mostly] gotten over my fear of flying
• shaved my head
• photo-documented numerous significant events in personal, corporate and public life
• met hundreds and hundreds of people and heard their stories
• worked for half a dozen entities, including myself
• found husband material ;p ... not that I was setting out with that goal in mind or anything. In fact, I think I attempted to flee it as much as possible.
  

You just don't get that kind of experience with entry-level jobs!

The bad news is... now just about any job I get will be boring for at least a little while. :(