CHANELWOOD.COM - The internet domain of Chanel. Quirky commentary on life, book reviews, movie reviews, articles on fashion, photography portfolio and more.

If you were (or are) anything like the “average” person, you probably know what it’s like to try being older. When you were 11, you wanted to be 13. When you were 16, you wanted to be 19. When you were 19, you wanted to be 21. And when you were 29?

You wanted to be 25 again. Suddenly, growing up wasn’t so glamourous.

In this day and age, there is such a seductive pull to being older. We want to look older, act older, be treated older and just be older. Years pass, and then something changes – we get older. And then suddenly, being old isn’t what we thought it would be. We want to be young again.

There are bills to pay. There is a job (or two) that demands our time and energy. There are things required of us. There are adult restrictions and responsibilities. When things go bad, we don’t have our parents to hide behind. We’re not children anymore, and more importantly, we’re not teenagers anymore. We’re – finally – the ever elusive “adult”.

And for some, it’s terrifying. But for others, it’s just another step in life.

Why is it that so many of us try so desperately to speed up the life spedometer, only to hit our 30s, slam on the aging brakes, and put the time gear in reverse? Why are so many of us intent on mentally aging ourselves to a certain point, then 360-ing back to the days we lost trying so hard to grow out of?

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So after disappearing off the face of the earth for two weeks, I’m back (and with my very own brand new Macbook Pro!) … I’ve got lots of things to say and share (and an overflowing mailbox to conquer), but for now I’ll wish y’all a merry christmas and a very happy holiday season! Spend some time with the people you love.

“I walked into Starbucks and they. were. everywhere.”

“They who?”

“The macs. Everyone was on a mac.”

Snorts. “They all had Macs?”

“Every single one. Their little apples were glowing and everything.”

“No Windows? Anywhere?”

“Well there was one blue-glowing Dell in the far corner…”

“But how can that be?!”

“They’re lonely people, those Mac users.”

“I hope you don’t turn out lonely.”

“Thanks, dad. Thanks.”

So my laptop finally cracked – literally.

First the left hinge rivet snapped clean. Two weeks later, the right rivet snapped clean. Now my screen doesn’t stand up by itself. As my friend Brandon so aptly put it, “Your laptop had a stroke. Now you own a paraplegic laptop.”

But like being handicapped in any way (like say, HAVING NO LAPTOP, which might happen if don’t stop abusing my current one, who’s screen is hanging by wires), this is no laughing matter. In fact, this is bad. Really bad. Enormously bad. Gigantically bad. Colossally bad.

As a result, I feel this all might be a sign from God – A sign that it’s time to come out of the closet. Whether I was actually even in the closet is debatable, but according to Tom, I’ve been hiding in there for years, only to come out ever once in awhile to touch his shiny new Apple toys.

It might be true. Maybe.

Regardless, I think it might be time to make the switch. I’ve had my beloved Windows laptop for years and we’ve been through a lot; 1 pair of hinges, two internal hard drivers, and three A/C adapters, not to mention the brutal murder of its sidekick, the external hard drive.)

It’s time for me to move on. I’m sorry, baby.

It was easy to fight against flaming mactards back when their OS really was a piece of shit. But as of lately (read: two years, give or take), it’s all become fairly level playing field. Plus, on a Mac, I can run Leopard and XP simultaneously on the same machine, and avoid Vista altogether!

Whatever happens though, you have my solemn promise: I will NOT become one of those yappy mac lovers who can’t STFU. Or a mindless, talentless, pseudo-artsy flaming Mactard.

All in all, I’ve been giving the 15″ Macbook Pro a lot of thought lately. In fact, the only really big switching problem I can think of should be fairly obvious to any Windows user who has ever used a mac: THE WORLD MIGHT JUST EXPLODE WITHOUT THE CHOICE OF A SECOND MOUSE BUTTON.

Remember that goal I set in the beginning of November? I did it! As of November 30th, I’m officially a 5K; I made promotion – and as a very lovely by-product, increased my monthly income by at least 10-15%. It took a lot of hard work, sacrifice and overtime, but it paid off in the end.

And around 12am MST, just after the office closed, it finally hit me: This is actually happening. I actually own a business network. I can take a month off (which, ironically, is what I’ll be doing for most of December), and money will still come in. It actually works. And this is just the beginning.

You know, as crazy as this may sound, I can’t imagine not reaching my goals; like, the idea simply does. not. exist. In fact, I actually sat down one time and tried to imagine myself going to a “normal” school, going to college like “normal” kids, getting a “normal” 9-5 job, and working for the greater part of my life like a “normal” adult, but try as I might, I simply couldn’t see it.

And right then, I knew it: If I couldn’t see it, It. would. not. happen.

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I love it when people try to ruin my day.

While I usually try my best to live my life as if the world is conspiring in my favor (as opposed to conspiring against me), there are often moments when it is clear that certain individuals are not – it’s in their words and actions; in the sly venom or double meaning of ill intent encapsulated within seemingly neutral statements.

One big decision that not only forever changed my life but also brought a lot of negative opinions was the decision to leave the public education system forever. Suddenly, people were popping out of the woodwork everywhere to voice their “concern” – What about socialization? Don’t you miss the school system? What about your friends? Isn’t homeschooling for “special education” kids? How will you learn?!

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Place yourself in the shoes of the Vancouver Olympic Committee for a second.

They’ve been getting a lot of negative opinions lately. I mean, first there was the whole debate about actually having the 2010 Olympics in Vancouver, and then there was the (ongoing) concern of how much it would cost, and then there was (and still is) the related mess known to Vancouverites as “that huge hole on Cambie that makes everyone avoid the street altogether and creates millions of dollars in losses for Cambie street business owners”.

But let’s forget about that. Today we’re talking about Vanoc’s newest unveiling: The official mascots (yes, mascots – the best place on earth clearly deserves more than one!) for the 2010 Winter Olympics. (A big thanks to Kaiti for suggesting a topic I couldn’t resist!)

When it came to creating a visual for Vancouver’s culture, I don’t doubt for a moment that the Vancouver Olympic Committee was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Why? Well, the reason is fairly obvious: Vancouver has no singular ethnicity or culture. You can find nearly every ethic background represented in this city, so what do you do?

I think Pete McMartin hit it right on the head in his column yesterday when he said, and I quote: “And, as usual, Vanoc went native, and heavily so, since it believes that the only culture worth promoting to the world is first nations. That, or it’s the most marketable.”

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This website finally made it to the front page when you Google “chanel” – that’s only nine spots away from the very top! (Note: This is using google.ca, and is likely to fluctuate as google rankings tend to do that, but still!)

It was early. Perhaps not “early” for most, but early for me. The air was crisp, cold, and the town was quiet. Undeniably quiet. Eerily quiet. Peacefully quiet. I can look outside my window and see Quadra Island, a place I’ve spend several summers at years ago. Sometimes, if I’m lucky, I can catch sight of the cute little BC Ferry that services the two islands.

For the last couple days I’ve been in Campbell River, a small town off the coast of Vancouver Island. Coming from a city of one million plus, a city of 30,000 is small. Undeniably small. Eerily small. Peacefully small. It’s like an acquired taste, almost. There is something relaxing about it; and yet, I miss home. I miss the noise, the crowds, the traffic, the good, and the bad. Most of all, I miss my bed. And my silky sheets. And speaking French to my dog.

As I walked the streets from my hotel to my work location, I couldn’t help but wonder: What would I have been like if I’d grown up in a small city like Campbell River? Would I have “turned out” differently? Would I have had the same ambitions? What kind of friends would I have had? How would I have been like? What kinds of things would I have enjoyed doing?

It’s such an odd thought, trying to imagine yourself as someone completely different. Every little bit of everything we’ve done, experienced, learned, been taught, been exposed to… all of that makes us who we are today. Change anything, and you wouldn’t be the exactly the same person.

Have you ever thought about this? Say you grew up somewhere completely opposite to where you did: how do you think you’d be different? (Or would you?)

If you’re even an inkling aware of what’s happening on the internet, you should know that making money with your website—not your company’s—is vastly becoming a huge thing. Ten years ago, pretty much nobody knew what a blog was. The same cannot be said today. Between the large availability of blogs (think blogger, livejournal, myspace blogs, etc.) and the rising spotlight on them (think celebrity bloggers, Fortune 500 companies, etc.), it seems that these days everyone and their cat has one.

So what about making money on your personal website?

If you’re anything like me, when you think about making money on a blog where you write about your personal life, you automatically think Google ads or Pay Per Posts. It is a general consensus among most blog circles I frequent that “those kinds of things” on personal websites are undesirable.

However, of those asked about their feelings towards advertisements, many of them used Dooce.com as an example of a personal website with ads that they didn’t mind. Curious, because as popular as Dooce.com may be, it is still a “personal” website. So what makes hers any different from Joe Regular’s?

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I cooked a fabulous vegetarian lasagna the other night. The family loved it and I was thrilled. Still giddy from the success of my latest experimental dish, I was idly cleaning the kitchen when my mother walks in and drops the scariest. comment. ever.

“You know, lasagna was always my signature dish.”

“Oh my god, DON’T SAY THAT.”

#1 most terrifying thing about getting older?
WHEN YOU REALIZE YOU’RE TURNING INTO YOUR MOTHER.

Are you…

• Ugly “Model-like”?
• Between the ages of 18-30?
• Shaped like a washboard?
• Freakishly tall, disturbingly skinny, and boringly bland?
• Dating someone and willing to compromise the relationship by “accidentally” making a “mistake” with one or more of the hot male models during the episode where the girls get to spend a day with the men who aren’t gay?
• Impossible to live with, making this show a hit because America loves to watch 13 girls fight over who’s food is who’s and who gets to open TYRAMAIL!!1! ?

Can you…

• Be bitchy?
• Act holier-than-thou?
• Fake a health-related crisis (dehydration, exhaustion, fainting spells, etc.)?
• Have morals and refuse to do nude shots?
• Fake a fear of one of the following: Heights, deep water, reptiles, etc.

Do you…

• Like your hair, so we can cut it all off during the makeovers episode and have you cry over the loss of it for an hour? (Hey, we’ve got to pass the time somehow!)
• Have a heart-wrenching story that will fool the viewers into thinking YOU should be America’s Next Top Model because you had a Very. Traumatic. Childhood.?
• Have a tendency to talk back to the judges people who offer criticism of your photos?
• A poor family back home who is counting on you to win (wink wink, nudge nudge!) so they can make their next meal?
• Adore Tyra and worship the ground she walks on?

If so, you might have what it takes to be in the running towards becoming America’s Next Top Model. Auditions for cycle 287 start in two weeks – apply now!

Since the lovely Aisling tagged me for “seven things we don’t know about you”, here goes seven things you wish you didn’t know about me. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. ;)

1. When I was a kid, I hated running and did everything within my power to avoid it. I’d refuse to play tag. I’d make my parents sign a note basically telling my school (back when I went to public school) that I was “unfit” to run. I quit playing volleyball when they made us do push-ups (see below) and run before training… Ironically enough, I started forcing myself to run in the summer of 2006 and ended up training and completing the 10K Sun Run in early 2007. And now? Now I love running – on my terms, of course.
2. I can’t do push-ups. Now, I don’t believe in saying “I can’t” (whether you think you can do it or think you cannot, you’re right!), but in this case, I literally mean it: I can’t push my own body weight. I can do maybe 20 “girl” push-ups, but regular push-ups? Forget about it. It’s not that I’m overweight, but rather, I’ve always done activities that built up my leg muscles and not so much my upper body.
3. I have a love affair with tweezers and the things I can do with my favorite pair of them. I always feel so satisfied and accomplished when I use them to pluck my (or someone else’s) eyebrows or pop pimples (not after sterilizing them, of course!)… Gross but true.
4. I adore Disneyland. To me, no matter how old I get, Disneyland will always hold my childhood magic. I can’t even explain exactly how much Disneyland means to me, but ever since the first I went (when I was five), my daydreams have regularly included frolicking around Disneyland in a princess costume, never aging, always being happy and having the moment frozen forever.
5. I have a very lovely best friend named Roxy (Roxy and Chanel – Ironic much? The fact that we’ve both got clothing company names must signify true love!) whom I’ve been friends with for 12+ years. We’re so opposite, yet somehow, despite our differences, we’re very much alike. Oh yeah, and she’s crazy talented in the art and songwriting department!
6. When I was seven years old, I had the tip of a seam ripper lodged in my foot for an entire year. It all started when I got angry, kicked a door and somehow, in the process of doing so, stabbed my foot with a seam ripper that was lying on the ground (my room was messy!) – the entry wound wasn’t even visible, and at the time I had no idea what had happened, but soon a bump started to form at the site. 12 months later, my mom (the nurse) took a sterilized hot needle, poked at the bump, and out came the tip of a seam ripper.
7. I have a pair of handcuffs hanging from the headboard of my bed, but I assure you, they’re purely for decoration. (They’re not the real kind, but were actually bought for a totally different Halloween get-up: a badass vampire costume! I keep them there because they look good.)

People I’m tagging for this… Daddy Dan, Amber, Brian / Luther / The Dad, Chantelle, Crystal, Regina and V. Why not spread the fun around? I’ve learned a lot of very odd and funny stuff from those who’ve done it already. :)

With life being as insane and all-demanding as it is, few of us take time to stop and “smell the roses”, as it were. What are you thankful for? What little things do you appreciate the most? What are you daily pleasures? (A spin-off idea inspired by Regina’s latest post.)

For me, the list looks something like this (in no particular order):

Doing nice things for others. I love to do nice things for others. Sometimes it’s going the extra mile, sometimes it’s doing a random act of kindness, and sometimes it’s doing something that everyone should, by default, be doing, but either way, I love to do nice things for people. I don’t even have to know them—they could be complete and utter strangers for all I care. It doesn’t matter.

My neighborhood. I love my neighborhood. It’s nothing special, just your average nice east side neighborhood, yet it has almost everything I need within walking distance – ice rink, track, gym, swimming pool, community center, public library, two grocery stores, two Chinese restaurants, a bakery, two Starbucks (though I don’t ever go there, it’s helpful when I want to meet up with someone there), several forests and parks, etc. I love it.

Walking my dog. Walking my dog around my neighborhood is among one of the most relaxing and enjoyable things ever. He likes it, I like it, we take almost the same route every time, but it’s delightful. Walking, running, or just about any other form of exercise (with the mp3 player, of course) is also a surefire “pick me up” – endorphins can definitely account for part of this daily pleasure.

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I don’t know if you’ve checked the calendar lately, but it’s only mid-November – A bit early to be decked out in Christmas gear and playing Christmas tunes, don’t you think? Halloween just finished and we still have a month and a half to go. I don’t appreciate you trying to prematurely release my Christmas spirit. IT’S NOT TIME YET, DAMMIT!

Love,
Chanel

PS – I’m one whole year older today, and still not sure if that’s a good thing or not.

With Harry Potter completed and tucked out of the away, I can’t help but wonder: what comes now? Will any book (or series of books) manage to break JK Rowling’s impressive standings in terms of worldwide sales and phenomenon? Will any author be able to create an alternative universe as “magical” and captivating as Harry Potter?

Also, if Rowling ever decided to write another book or series, could she “out do” Harry Potter?

Imagine you’ve got loads of money—maybe throw in a couple cars, a mansion and worldwide fame. Now imagine you’ve met the one, that special guy or girl. Two years later and you’re engaged. Your family, friends, and even your lawyer are advising you to get a pre-nup. Do you or don’t you? Are the cases where having a pre-nuptual agreement is “the smart thing to do”, or is it always the first step to divorce (i.e. “I’m making you sign this because you might leave, but my money stays with me forever”)?

For me personally, I wouldn’t do it. I’d like to think that my future self will have enough sense to marry someone with the morals, consideration, and basic dencency to take his part and leave me mine (as I would do to him) if our relationship was beyond repair.

In terms of pre-nups in general, I think they can be the smart thing for some people—people who are being married for money, most everyone in Hollywood (where the milk often outlasts the marriage!), people who marry “for fun”, people who don’t think things through…

You might think I’m being satiristic, but think about it: if you ever found yourself rich and ‘one of those people’, you’d want a pre-nup too—after all, the only thing worse than being divorced is being divorced to a ex-husband or wife who’s now rich as a result of it!

On a different-but-related note, I find it ironically hilarious that the women who host The View are all divorced (some more than once). When one of the hosts asked Whoppi Goldberg (actress and co-host) whether she’d gotten a pre-nup, she replied, “Which time?”. America might have laughed in reply, but with a 50/50 statistical chance of your marriage making it or breaking it, marriage and divorce is no laughing matter—especially when children are involved.

From the Vancouver Sun’s article on the Top 100 surnames in the Lower Mainland:

#77 – Wood (664 entries)
An English and Scottish last name, Wood almost always denotes someone who lived in the woods, or who worked as a woodcutter or forester. However, a secondary origin for the name Wood is a nickname for a crazy or violent person, an interpretation derived from the Middle English word ‘wod’, meaning mad or frenzied.

Abstract thought of the day: Manners are seriously lacking in this day and age.

Hold the door open for the person behind you. Smile back when someone smiles at you. Say thank you when someone does something for you. Don’t treat your waitress like your slave. When someone asks you how you’re doing, ask them how they’re doing; being polite is not just for customer service personel. Hold back the urge to swear, finger and honk at the driver who might have accidentally cut you off in traffic. Don’t yap loudly on your cell phone like no one is around when in reality, you’re surrounded by people. Refrain from pushing, cuting, or budging.

Be considerate of others, for goodness sakes. It won’t kill you.

My father, on sharing his personal information on the internet:

“You better not be posting anything about me on your website.”

“Just tell ‘them’ your dad passed away or something.”

This just in: Contrary to what you might believe, talking on the phone will not kill you.

Me and the phone have a hate/hate relationship. You see, I’ve always avoided talking on the phone with most (read: 99.9%) people. It’s awkward and weird. You can’t see the person’s expressions. There are uncomfortable pauses. You might run out of things to say. I also get somewhat nervous when I’m about to call someone, especially if I have no particular reason for doing so (i.e. “just for a chat”).

I can make conversation in real life, but on the phone? No. Because chats about the weather don’t go over as well when the other person isn’t in the same vicinity as you.

“Lovely weather today, eh?”
“… Did you call me just to say that?”

So maybe I’m exaggerating a bit. I can make conversation over the phone, but it’s usually forced and my brain is always in “must think about what I’m going to say next” mode. I’ve even written down lists of possible conversational material before calling someone. Yes, a list of possible conversation material. Always prepared for the worst, I am.

However, as of lately, it’s become apparent that my fear of talking on the phone is holding me back. My occupation requires lots of phone calls, and my network’s growth has been somewhat hindered (though I have tried my best to delegate the task of phone conversations off to my mother) because of it. Simply put? I need to get over it. It’s a “suck it up, princess!” fear.

I know I’m not the only one who doesn’t like talking on the phone. Why is that? I mean, really… What makes it so different from talking to people “in person”, face to face (don’t even get me started on webcams – that’s for a whole other entry), or over IM?

Of course, being the ever-prepared person I am, I’ve already developed a plan of action to conquer and dominate this irrational sillyness head on. I’m going to force-dive myself into this phone business and bring out my list of people I should have called months ago. Clients. Friends. Clients. Clients. Clients. Dear god. What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger!

This stepping out of your comfort zone stuff ain’t easy, but it isn’t as bad as I thought. I’ve already started on The Plan and called a few clients. Surprisingly, the world did not stop spinning and my head did not explode. It went well. Very well, actually, and the fact that I survived the experience to blog about it says it all. I’m alive, aren’t I?

Have you seen the Potter Puppet Pals? Because if you haven’t, you need to watch their skits, particularly the one called “The mysterious ticking noise“. Hilarious.

November is hard month to get by for a lot of people. If you live in Vancouver, November is often known as The Month of Rain. For students, the ‘new school year’ feel is wearing off and a sedated routine is likely to have set in. For everyone else, November is just ‘that month before Christmas’ – that month where you get bombarded with Christmas carols (’but Halloween just finished!’) and inevitably end up loosing your Christmas cheer before December even rolls around.

This month, I’ve decided to get the whole family involved in something that will make November a whole lot more exciting and a lot less blah. I’ve set up a goal wall.

What is a goal wall, you ask? Well, basically put, the goal wall is where we’ll put our goals for that month. For example, my brother wants to save $250 dollars this month. He’s put that goal up on the wall. I want to make promotion by next Saturday and loose five pounds by the end of the month. I’ve put those two goals up on the wall.

We’ll each write our goals down and put them on the wall where we’ll see them every day. No “out of sight, out of mind” business here! Nobody can skip out and the entire family has to work together to help strategize ways we can meet our goals. This way, we’re all moving forward as a connected unit.

Feeling the November blues? Want to participate in NaNoWriMo or NaBloPoMo but don’t have the time? Instead of joining a challenge you don’t think you can swallow upfront, consider setting up your own goal wall and sharing the challenge with a roommate, family member or friend. Your goals can be as small or as big as you want, but regardless of the size, you will see results if you’re committed to them. You’ve got nothing to loose!

Life Lesson #97656857: Never judge a book by its cover. Sometimes you’re right, but sometimes you’re wrong, and assuming someone to be something they’re not makes you an ass.

I’ve come to realize that in order to really succeed in life, you need to step out of your comfort zone.

It’s not always easy – in fact, nine out of ten times it’s downright hard. Sometimes it means talking in front of a crowd. Sometimes it means handing your brochure to the person sitting next to you on the plane, someone you’re so sure won’t be interested. Sometimes it means raising your hand and asking tough questions nobody else has the guts to voice. Sometimes it means stepping up to the plate and calling the shots, silently praying to God you’ve made the right choice. Sometimes it means taking the road less traveled, even if the path is darker and obscured by the fog.

Sometimes you just have to do it, and sometimes you’ll be pleasantly surprised. Sometimes it’s not so bad. Sometimes it is. But sometimes, you just need to feel the fear and do it anyways.

I’m back from Salt Lake City, 500+ pictures taken and all.

Going to this year’s anniversary convention (aptly named “XanGo Invasion”) really reaffirmed my love for this company. Besides the announcement that we hit 1 billion in sales (second fastest company to ever hit the 1 billion mark) in less than five years and the unveiling of XanGo TV, it really solidified the idea that XanGo isn’t just a company or a product; It’s a charitable lifestyle that extends all over the world.

[You learn more about the company and its projects at the following sites: XanGo, XanGo's philanthropic movement, XanGo Goodness, XanGo's 5th Anniversary Convention, XanGo Invasion]

I’ve kept the pictures under the cut, mainly because anyone without high speed will probably faint at the size and quantity of the photos. So without further ado…

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If you’ve ever seen The View (an American talk show) or somehow know of the back drama behind it, you should find this lolcat understandably hilarious.

Take-off waiting line on the runway at Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport. (Click photo for full version)

I’m off to Salt Lake City! If you’re the stalker type and live in the general vicinity, feel free to hunt me down. Otherwise, see y’all on the 29th.

Despite this being my website, using my name and serving as a shrine of narcissism a place where I can write and publish things related and of interest to me, I still find it fairly difficult to talk directly about my life. Sometimes It’s about my dog, or about my on-going fights with the mothfia, or sometimes even about the ridiculous things my mother says, but there are only three entries on record that directly talk about my life.

This entry makes four.

First of all, I’d like to thank everyone who sent well-wishing emails or left comments in regards to my eye problem. I’m happy to inform y’all that it’s 100% better – no swelling, no chalazion, nothing. It healed just in time to allow my attendance at a cocktail party for a family friend’s sister’s gallery exhibition opening and a East Indian wedding reception over the weekend.

Secondly, you should probably notice that there is a new layout. (F5 for a hard refresh if you don’t see it!) I’m rather fond of the mod colors and style, but a little unsure about the header image. As always, comments and suggestions are welcomed. Also, you might notice a new page: The archives. (The page documenting this website, previously named “website”, has been renamed to “colophon” but the location remains the same.)

This week is going to be hectic, and it doesn’t even have to be Monday yet for me to be able to tell you that. I’m flying out first thing Wednesday morning to Salt Lake City, Utah for my company’s annual anniversary convention and before then I need to:

• Find a costume for the dance party. I’m not looking to snag any prizes, but I need to follow with this year’s theme: “futureland” – i.e., stuff from the future. This rules out being Minnie Mouse or a vampire, which have been my costumes of choice for the last several years. Any costume ideas? The only thing I can think of is cat woman.
• Take (and re-study for) two chapter tests.
• Submit my Bio, Chem, and Math assignments.
• Do some secretarial work with our team, which includes but is not limited to: emailing 150+ people, rewriting our introductory letter, send out account and login information to at least 100 people and send two other people the information the specifically requested.
• Do laundry and pack my suitcase.

In addition to all that, I also have the ever illusive midterm deadline coming up on the 29th. I fly home on the 28th, which leaves putting all the work off until last minute an absolute no-no. So between now and the 29th, I need to find the time to:

• Complete & submit four Planning assignments
• Complete & submit two Math assignments
• Complete & submit two Bio & Chem assignments
• Finish up any leftover English work, which includes poetry analyzation, something that is right up there on my “things I’d rather burp up slugs than do” list.

There you have it, folks! All the stuff you never needed to know. However, since some of you requested I follow up this entry about certain changes I was making in my life back then, I figure now is a good time as any to give a follow up report.

Lights out and sleeping by 11pm was a complete and utter failure. If anything, between now and then, my late nights have gotten later – 1, 2, and sometimes even 3 am. I still want to go to bed earlier and I’m still going to keep trying (just like I have for the last how many years of my life) but I don’t this will be happening anytime too soon.

The GI diet was a great success. I didn’t lose any significant weight (which I was hoping for, but not expecting – I didn’t slay all the desserts out of my diet) but it did change the way (and what) I eat. My dairy consumption has gone way, way down, almost to the point of being completely diary-free. I’ve been eating a lot of whole grains (less rice, more Quinoa and Bulgar wheat – I even made a dish and published the recipe on here) and low-GI vegetables and fruits. It also taught me a lot more about nutrition and how successful diets work.

Upping the water intake went very well, although in recent weeks it has been on the decline. I found taking eight glasses a day to be no problem at all – with the amount of activity and busyness in my life, my body really needed it (and craved it, even).

Exercise has been going well, and is on the increase – My dog is proving to be an excellent motivator by whining and nagging me into taking him out every day. With dance every week (and the newfound discovery of gel heel protectors, which means NO MORE OPEN WOUNDS!) and other general movements (walking here and there, running for the bus, running after people, running to the stores, walking up stairs etc.), I think I’m getting a fairly good amount of exercise in, but I’d still like to do a lot more. I’m also planning on running a lot more, and with more intensity. I’ve got to get back on my running plan!

Oh, and I’ve yet to try the hot yoga (no time!) but I’m still planning on doing that soon too.

So that’s the update. Apart from being leered at ALL NIGHT by some guy at least five years my senior at the wedding reception last night, nothing particularly interesting has been happening lately – and even then, that incident was more “I think I’m going to sick”, borderline “I want to punch him in the face”. I know the typical “I’m so busy, I even made a list!” blog entries are dreadfully boring, so consider this a filler entry until something heart-stopping and earth-shattering happens.

(Err, on second though, I take that back. Considering how I’m going to be flying soon, I really hope nothing heart-stopping and earth-shattering (or plane shattering) happens until I’m safely back on the ground at home.)

Fate has horrid, horrid taste in humor.

You see, this week and the next were supposed to be my "work really hard" weeks. With midterms coming up at the end of the month and work taking a whole new more intense, more organized level of my time, I had so perfectly planned to be chained to my desk for at least 90% of this week’s daylight hours. Guess what happened?

I got an eye infection. My body is pissed off at me. I pushed it to the limits last weekend when I worked unearthly hours, and now my body is acting out. It’s angry. And now, because I couldn’t stop poking the cyst at every given moment, I’m stuck looking absolutely sexy with one eye swollen halfway shut, amusing myself by periodically draining the cyst with my favorite pair of tweezers and lots and lots kleenex.

Too much information? Too bad. (For what it’s worth though, it really is amusing – perhaps even the highlight of my day.)

ETA: Since y’all wish to see photos and there is no way in hell I’m posting one of *me*, I decided to provide you with an alternative visual companion: see this photo. While it isn’t of me, it gives you a pretty good idea of what it looks like, only imagine the central point of swelling to be right in the very corner of the upper inner eyelid. If you’re even more curious to find out more, you can read this on Chalazions.

Last month I brought you the Aye-Aye. This month, I bring you… the Cicada!

Feel free to stare in horror for as long as you’d like.

I know y’all have good reasons for forcing us to collect 87 days worth of garbage in our garages and keeping us locked out of our libraries, city golf clubs, cemeteries and community centers, but enough is enough.

Go back to work.

Love,
Chanel

PS – We only have so many freezers. BODIES NEED TO BE BURIED.

Last month on Craigslist.com, someone who described herself as a “spectacularly beautiful” 25-year-old placed a personal ad seeking a husband who made at least $500,000 a year, because “$250,000 won’t get me to Central Park West.”

As her post hit the blogs, it received a scathing response from a man who said he fit her description and told her that her proposition was a bad business deal. “In economic terms, you are a depreciating asset and I am an earning asset,” he wrote, because “your looks will fade and my money will likely continue into perpetuity.”

(Taken from the New York Times)

Her Ad: What am I doing wrong?

Okay, I’m tired of beating around the bush. I’m a beautiful (spectacularly beautiful) 25 year old girl. I’m articulate and classy. I’m not from New York. I’m looking to get married to a guy who makes at least half a million a year. I know how that sounds, but keep in mind that a million a year is middle class in New York City, so I don’t think I’m overreaching at all.

Are there any guys who make 500K or more on this board? Any wives? Could you send me some tips? I dated a business man who makes average around 200- 250. But that’s where I seem to hit a roadblock. 250,000 won’t get me to central park west. I know a woman in my yoga class who was married to an investment banker and lives in Tribeca, and she’s not as pretty as I am, nor is she a great genius. So what is she doing right? How do I get to her level?

Here are my questions specifically:

– Where do you single rich men hang out? Give me specifics – bars, restaurants, gyms

– What are you looking for in a mate? Be honest guys, you won’t hurt my feelings

– Is there an age range I should be targeting (I’m 25)?

– Why are some of the women living lavish lifestyles on the upper east side so plain? I’ve seen really ‘plain jane’ boring types who have nothing to offer married to incredibly wealthy guys. I’ve seen drop dead gorgeous girls in singles bars in the east village. What’s the story there?

– Jobs I should look out for? Everyone knows – lawyer, investment banker, doctor. How much do those guys really make? And where do they hang out? Where do the hedge fund guys hang out?

– How you decide marriage vs. just a girlfriend? I am looking for MARRIAGE ONLY

Please hold your insults – I’m putting myself out there in an honest way. Most beautiful women are superficial; at least I’m being up front about it. I wouldn’t be searching for these kind of guys if I wasn’t able to match them – in looks, culture, sophistication, and keeping a nice home and hearth.

His Response:

I read your posting with great interest and have thought meaningfully about your dilemma. I offer the following analysis of your predicament. Firstly, I’m not wasting your time, I qualify as a guy who fits your bill; that is I make more than $500K per year. That said here’s how I see it.

Your offer, from the prospective of a guy like me, is plain and simple a crappy business deal. Here’s why. Cutting through all the B.S., what you suggest is a simple trade: you bring your looks to the party and I bring my money. Fine, simple. But here’s the rub, your looks will fade and my money will likely continue into perpetuity…in fact, it is very likely that my income increases but it is an absolute certainty that you won’t be getting any more beautiful!

So, in economic terms you are a depreciating asset and I am an earning asset. Not only are you a depreciating asset, your depreciation accelerates! Let me explain, you’re 25 now and will likely stay pretty hot for the next 5 years, but less so each year. Then the fade begins in earnest. By 35 stick a fork in you!

So in Wall Street terms, we would call you a trading position, not a buy and hold…hence the rub…marriage. It doesn’t make good business sense to “buy you” (which is what you’re asking) so I’d rather lease. In case you think I’m being cruel, I would say the following. If my money were to go away, so would you, so when your beauty fades I need an out. It’s as simple as that. So a deal that makes sense is dating, not marriage.

Separately, I was taught early in my career about efficient markets. So, I wonder why a girl as “articulate, classy and spectacularly beautiful” as you has been unable to find your sugar daddy. I find it hard to believe that if you are as gorgeous as you say you are that the $500K hasn’t found you, if not only for a tryout.

By the way, you could always find a way to make your own money and then we wouldn’t need to have this difficult conversation.

With all that said, I must say you’re going about it the right way. Classic “pump and dump.” I hope this is helpful, and if you want to enter into some sort of lease, let me know.

Can you say ‘owned‘?

I love his rather useful suggestion towards the end of the reply: “By the way, you could always find a way to make your own money and then we wouldn’t need to have this difficult conversation.” Wise words well spoken.

Actually, if you really look at her “proposition”, she isn’t merely just a depreciating asset; she’s a liability. Not all people agree with this, but author Robert Kiyosaki redefined the definition of assets and liabilities in his book Rich Dad, Poor Dad, stating that “assets are anything that generate money … liabilities are anything that consume money.”

Gold-diggers? Definitely liabilities.

Let this serve as a stellar exemplary warning to all gold-diggers and women wanting to marry for money—they’re getting smarter. Just so you know.

Is it just me, or have material donation incentives given out by representing charities and non-profit organizations become far more common in the last 10 years?

You know you’ve seen it, probably even donated money for it… A dollar for a blue silicon bracelet with an inspirational “stop prostate cancer” saying… A cute pink pen for donating a minimum of two dollars to stop breast cancer… A heart-shaped pin with a child’s drawing engraved in it for donating to children’s charities… Baring your boobies (or donating money to see said pictures) to raise money for breast cancer research…

All those organizations could have saved the money spent on producing such promotional “thank you for donating” material and put it towards their cause. Why is it that these organizations think we need to get stuff in return to “do the right thing”? I’d be perfectly happy donating to a good cause without getting anything in return. At the very least, they could send a mass heartfelt thank you email out to all donators. Why go to such lengths?

Have we become so material-orientated that we are less inclined to donate to a cause or organization if they have nothing to “offer” us? And if not, then why do these organizations seem to have this impression? Don’t tell me it’s a way of saying “thank you” to its donators – I don’t believe that for a second. It might be partially true, but I highly doubt that is the total and complete reason.

I understand that most people are naturally drawn to “stuff”, and as a result will probably be more motivated to donate if they are given something in return, but personally I think the money spent on little “thank you” materials could be better used somewhere else, even if it turns out to be a small and relatively insignificant amount. There are other less expensive ways of promoting and advocating the donation of money to worthy causes.

To be honest, if anything, organizations that offer such materials make me suspicious and doubtful of their claims. How do I really know my money donated isn’t going towards something other than the cause itself? In many cases, they often do not tell you that a portion of the proceed goes towards the actual cause. A portion? A portion of a dollar?

Yeah, that’s sure going to change the world.

I hate being so pessimistic and negative, but in this day and age, believing everything you are told and taking everything for face value makes you a fool. Does it help you sleep better at night knowing you’ve done your part to help discover a cure for breast cancer by giving them a dollar and getting a silly bracelet in return? (And don’t even get me started on the direction “a cure for cancer” is heading, or how corrupted the BCCA is in terms of pushing drugs and unnatural means, downplaying natural remedies as possible means to a cure!)

I think the old-fashioned way was the best. If you want to make a difference in this world and actually do something, forget going through glitzy promotional 3rd party organizations. Want to help starving people in 3rd world countries? Get out there and do it yourself, or really do your research and help fund a genuine, committed person or organization of persons to do it.

I believe Margaret Mead, an anthropologist, scientist and intellectual said it best when she said “Never doubt that a small group of committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.”

Out of curiosity, I have to wonder: Would you donate money to a cause or organization if you got nothing back in return? Do materialistic incentives such as pens, bracelets, etc. actually motivate you to give back, or would less tangible things such as a report about how your money is being used be sufficient?

You’re driving along a street, fretting over all the things you need to be done today. Traffic starts to slow down, eventually taking the pace of a crawl. You start to get agitated. Why now? You’ve got things to do, places to be! You see flashing lights ahead, and suddenly it dawns on you: there is an accident ahead. How do you feel?

When it’s your turn to pass by the crash scene, do you crane your neck to see what’s going on, or do you avert your gaze and ignore the scene completely? If you’re one of those people who look every time, what do you hope to see? Wreckage? Triggered airbags? Blood? Dead bodies?

Why are we so fascinated with the “bad” stuff?

It’s the same thing with accidents-to-be. Some people close their eyes, or turn away, but other just stare wide-eyed, frozen, often wanting, willing too look away, but unable to do so. It’s like seeing two trains on the same track, heading straight towards each other. There is something magnetic about disasters that keep so many of us just glued. It’s not that they entertains us, amuses us, or that we even like them—It’s just that, well, we can’t pull away.

For some, it’s the TV coverage on disasters like 9/11 or Hurricane Katrina that we can’t seem to tear away from. It appalls us, grieves us, makes us sick to our stomaches, but we don’t (or can’t) stop watching.

We cling to every heartbreaking clip, every shocking picture, and every nauseating piece of news, forcing ourselves to sit through a blow-by-blow account of what happened, what is happening, and the implications of everything that has happened thus far. It leaves us feeling sad, sick, angry, upset, and every other conceivable negative emotion, and yet we still watch.

We could keep ourselves informed of such disasters through non-descriptive newsfeeds sans the multimedia, but instead, we choose the form that envelopes us in the horror.

Why?

For me, my morbid fascination is airline crashes. It is most puzzling to me because up until a few years ago, I was terrified of flying. Now, years later, I’m… not. I love planes, airports, security checkpoints (that’s another story all in itself), and landings. I also love researching plane crashes, strange and unexplainable plane issues and disasters (ever heard of that Hawaiian flight between Islands that had the top half of the plane—the roof—ripped out mid-flight? Everyone except one flight attendant survived) and watching Mayday.

I think having a couple pilots as friends and acquaintances helped a great deal. That, and just getting up there and flying; when you’re in a plane every couple months, the whole ordeal becomes routine procedure quickly, much like driving. However, after reading about the statistics on plane crashes and learning that the majority of complications occur during take off and landing, I still find myself a tad nervous during accent and decent. Why do I subject myself to useless knowledge? I choke it up to an insatiably curious nature: I must know everything, even if the newfound knowledge has a negative impact on me. Knowing which airlines have had crashes and which have not, or looking up videos/pictures/investigation notes from those crashes is essentially “useless” knowledge, but I pursue it anyway.

So, I ask you: Why do you think people are oddly fascinated with morbid things? Do you have any morbid fascinations? If so, what are they?

Let me tell you a story tragedy.

Once upon a time there was a girl who had a portable external hard drive. It was her back up hard drive, because previous to it, she had been foolish enough to almost loose her data TWICE when her laptop’s hard drives failed (and were replaced) twice on two separate occasions.

One day, this girl was watching an episode of my wife and kids, happily laughing along. Without realizing it, she placed her elbow on the small portable external hard drive, and placed some of her weight on it as she leaned over to get something. The TV show, which was playing from the external drive, froze. Then the drive made a “click” sound. She immediately unplugged the drive and then plugged it back in, only to find that the drive did not start spinning, but instead emitted a series of very scary warning beeps.

She has now fallen into deep depression as this back up drive contained all her travelling photos from Europe, Egypt and Israel as well as numerous other very important data.

I’m calling WeRecoverData.com tomorrow and getting a free quote to evaluate the damage, all whilst praying the quote isn’t above $500. How could I have been so stupid? I hate the feeling of utter helplessness I have over hardware problems. I can usually fix software issues, but when it comes to hardware issues, I’m screwed. I know nothing. I’m just the silly girl who was stupid enough to PUT HER WEIGHT ON A SMALL PLASTIC BOX CONTAINING HER LIFE.

I was discussing this situation with my mother today and she suggested I take a class on hardware repair so that I can fix (or at least know what to do) when it comes to situations like this. I think I just might. I am so angry at both myself and just the world in general (hehe, emo!) for the simple fact that HARD DRIVE PROBLEMS ALWAYS HAPPEN TO ME.

Not only that, but technology hates me. It really does. Why just the other day month, the UV Glass Lens cover on my [very expensive] digital SLR shattered when my someone picked up the case not knowing the cover wasn’t zipped shut – my fault, of course. Needless to say, my camera DROPPED ON THE FLOOR and the protective lens shattered. However, while the lens and the camera itself was fine, the rim of the lens cover was bent in the drop and remained on the lens. Now, I can’t unscrew it because it’s bent and I can’t put the lens cap on my camera properly because the rim is bent. I’ve been meaning to figure out a way to get the rim off but I’ve just been so damn busy lately, barely leaving time to sleep, eat, and breath.

Three hard drives, destroyed? Check. Two A/C adapters overheated? Check. One portable external hard drive possibly destroyed? Check. Case in point? I should not be allowed to own anything expensive. They should lock me away in a cell far, far away from technology because I am the careless asshole who ruins everything.

Pray for my hard drive. Srsly.