Friday, September 11, 2009

Angry Little Girls

Now that summer's officially over, I'm dealing with the new two-kids-at-two-different-schools-that-start-at-the-same-time-but-are-20-minutes-apart-oh-and-my-husband-is-out-of-town-all-the-time-lifestyle. Add to that having to get people to do homework (as well as dealing with my own homework, which is of course work I take home), doing the cooking, cleaning and general herding of children, and it's all enough to make me an Angry Little Asian Girl. As if she knew, my friend Sandra got me some Angry Little Asian Girl (ALAG) spirit gear, my favorite of which is pictured at the right: it happens to be a great little wallet, with lots of practical zippered compartments and enough slots to hold my incredible number of credit cards, and it also has one of my favorite comics on it:

Kim (Angry Little Asian Girl): I got you a gift.
Mom: Why you waste money?!?

My favorite part is the mom, who has what my friend so aptly named AMH (Asian Mom Hair) -- the short hair with a perm. It's probably the most unnatural state for Asian hair but strangely the most common configuration for Asian moms. I have on several instances begged my mom not to get a perm.

I also received a tote bag, which is well made and has really good compartments, including one of which all sensible Asian moms would approve: a hidden zippered compartment for your wallet! It really is hidden -- you can't even see it from the inside of your bag. Perfect for the paranoid, and a good fit for those who avoid being blown by the wind at all times (if you have an Asian mom you'll know what I mean).

But Lela Lee, the creator of the ALAG, doesn't stop with angry Asians. She's got a whole slew of angry little girls, one to suit every haircolor and personality type. Check out the online store -- plenty of cute things to be had. Be forewarned on the T-shirts though -- they run REALLY small. I usually wear a small in most things and had to move up to a large in the ALAG shirts.

Saturday, September 5, 2009

Tea Collection

Today is my birthday (the best 26th birthday ever...this is, like, the twelvth one...?) , and I've really noticed a change this year. For one, if I'm ever seen without makeup, people ask me if I'm feeling okay (actually, people have been doing that now for about ten years). In pictures, I exhibit a trademark appearance of perpetual exhaustion (I also learned this year not to be photographed with your reports at work who are 10-15 years your junior with long blond hair, perfect teeth and skin) . I observe a sort of conservation-of-beauty-effect: I watch my daughters blossom while my own looks fade. I'm focusing on the parts that are still good: I still have pretty decent fingernails and my calves are still bearable in public. Palms of hands also still acceptable. Brain still mostly functioning.

As I think about youth, I find myself more and more wishing I could fit into my kids' clothes -- or at the very least that they made clothes like that in my size. One of my favorite purveyors of childrens' fine clothing is Tea Collection, a San-Francisco-based line with global influence. My daughter has a purple tank-and-capri combo that is just to die for. They change their international theme seasonally, which keeps the collection interesting, and the clothes are really well-made: high quality materials, elegant cuts with simple but sophisticated drape. If you hurry , they're having a Tea Collection sale on Gilt today. Tea offers kids' sizes up to 8, so my children only have a few more years to enjoy this experience. As they say, youth is wasted on the young.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

The Followers Gadget

Third day of school for my kids, and thus I'm reminded of the social anarchy involved at the beginning of the school year -- where, like a group of betta fish who've been introduced into a new tank with some new fish, the social pecking order (or in their case, fin-ripping and attacking order) needs to be re-established. My oldest daughter just started first grade at a new school, and I've been observing this hierarchical process. Suffice it to say that I am not looking forward to another fourteen years of reliving through my kids the pain and humiliation involved in growing up. I just hope they're better at kickball than I was.

In solidarity to the kids and public humiliation, I've added the Followers gadget on my page (see left-hand side of the page, just below the Subscribe To My Blog Via Reader gadget). From what I can tell, its primary purpose is to prove to site visitors that other people like me. It doesn't even mean that they read the blog. Worse yet, the subscribers I currently have (thank you, those of you who subscribe via email or feed, so that I'm not talking to myself 100% of the time) don't show up, so the prominently centered copy proclaiming "There are no followers yet. Be the first!" cheerfully alerts the public that no one, NOT ONE person, is following this blog, in case you were wondering. It's actually worse than having no Facebook friends -- usually that only happens if you're new -- but based on the dates and volume of posts I've produced, I'm clearly not new.

So why do this? I'm really not sure. I think it's related to the fact that I have generally put in 50-75% more than that for what I'm paid; call it need for approval, or stupidity. Or maybe I just really want the profile of some guy in a black turtleneck with black-rimmed glasses laughing like he's having a blast at a poetry reading to show up in one of those little cubes. Or maybe it's curiosity on what this social experiment might produce. In any case, if you find it in your heart, appease me, and follow.