From Left to Write: The No More Excuses Diet

It's hard to write this post because all I have are excuses. But mostly I think my excuses stem from not caring that I'm fat. I'm fat. It's ok! All these crazy diet books are out there but I have no motivation to exercise to the degree required to get to my pre-baby weight because I don't care!!!! Of course I'm influenced by posts from other moms who are embracing their fatness and happy in the process. But I wanted to try. I thought maybe if I signed up for The No More Excuses Diet by Maria Kang, it would get me going, but so far, I haven't really exercised any more than I did before the book. I do try to follow the stricture to stop eating 3 hours before bedtime, so maybe that's something!

I'm a list person, I like to cross things off that I've accomplished but then lose all motivation to do those things again. I worked out and dieted every day so I could lose 30 lbs for my wedding. Done. I trained for six months so I could run a marathon. Done. I gave up fried potato snacks for one year's new year's resolution. Done. I worked at a startup. Done. I started blogging so I could go to BlogHer in New York five years ago. Done.

So the things that are remaining on my bucket list are: walk from Kathmandu to Everest base camp, skydiving, and write a book. All of which are things I'm going to do once my kids go to college, mostly because for the first two things, it will matter less if I die trying. So for the next 12 years I have no motivation to do anything!

Actually that's not true. I did have a few New Year's resolutions for this year. Climb Mission Peak, done. Frame my law school diploma from 12 years ago, done. Clean out my garage so I can park in it--this one is blocked by the fact that our annual MOPS rummage sale is in May and our church community group garage sale is next month.

I'm waiting. For my Pavlok. I need that will really SHOCK me into getting back into shape and sleeping earlier. I am acknowledging I have no will power. I have no motivation so I need something external to really poke and prod me into the right direction. The Pavlok is one of those wearable fitness devices that tracks your movements. If you don't reach your goal, it will give you an electric jolt. Perhaps not the best idea for someone with a minor heart issue, but at this point I'm willing to try anything.

Another random post from random mommy. If you would like my copy of the No Excuses book, please let me know and I will send it to you!

This post was inspired by The No More Excuses Diet by Maria Kang who shares her no excuses philosophy that motivated her to become more fit. JoinFrom Left to Write on March 12th as we discuss The No More Excuses Diet. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

From Left to Write: J by Howard Jacobson

To be one of the chosen people of God. I've had a fascination with Jewish culture since my family moved from Chicago city proper to its suburbs. All of a sudden half my classmates had the last name Cohen, Finkel, or the like. They talked frequently about the shenanigans they pulled in Hebrew school. Somehow Korean school wasn't as glamorous or exciting. The year I turned 13 was filled with friends' bar and bat mitzvahs, elaborate over the top parties where kids would get carried in chairs in the air and everyone would dance holding white napkins together in a circle. Throughout my formative years schools were closed for every Jewish high holiday (but not Good Friday) and we frequently talked about seders and Hannukah in class. I wanted to be Jewish. It looked like such a cool club from the outside.

College and life in New York afterwards expanded my love affair with Jewish culture in the form of food and life-long friends.  The Kosher Kitchen was one of the best dining halls on campus and it was part of the meal plan. Manhattan's offerings were even better--Artie's deli on 83rd street with its sides of cole slaw and pickles, Cafe Edison for matzoh ball soup, and Zabar's to pick up everything else, to say nothing about the deliciousness of real bagels! Many Jewish girlfriends and boyfriends enhanced my appreciation for a people that have endured so much hatred and oppression for thousands of years and yet have persevered to excel in education, the arts, medicine and every field of business.

While I ultimately did not end up converting or marrying in, my belief that Israel was given to the Jews by God has never been diminished. So imagine the horror I felt when I found out that, on Tuesday morning, two Muslims from East Jerusalem armed with a gun, knives and axes burst into a West Jerusalem synagogue shouting Allahu Akbar and then proceeded to open fire and bludgeon praying men with axes. Of course, this made me think of J, the novel I had been reading for the From Left to Write book club. I had read a review of the book that it was not realistic that another Holocaust would happen as suggested by the book. I beg to differ--in a world where Jews in Jerusalem can get massacred in a synagogue, is the possibility of another Holocaust really that far fetched? I had originally been planning a different post, but how could I not comment on the fact that most people in this world are not outraged by what happened, and it did happen! Why is the flag not lowered to half staff for the Americans that were killed in this tragedy? Why doesn't the POTUS come out stronger against the incident? Does he even care?

I am praying that God will comfort the families of the three AMERICAN and the other victims of this travesty. If it is God's will, I pray that he will help Benjamin Netanyahu carry out his vow to "settle the score with every terrorist."  Whenever things like this happen, I question whether it is the end times. More and more I agree with the answer my pastor recently gave to this query, "it's been the end times ever since Jesus returned to Heaven." If you live in a place where there are no Jewish people and the problems of the Middle East seem far away, just think about how Hitler was able to affect the life of every human being on Earth during World War II. Ignoring the issues will not make them go away, please spare a thought for these issues today.

This post was inspired by the novel J by Howard Jacobson, about a world where collective memory has vanished and the past is a dangerous country, not to be talked about or visited. Join From Left to Write on November 20th as we discuss J. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

From Left to Write: Dataclysm PIZZA

Photo by Pierre Alan Lepetit

This is a hard post to write.  From Left to Write is a book club where we write posts inspired by the books we read. They are not meant to be book reviews. However, when we write posts that are funny, heart-warming or even simply informative--that is when a blogger writes a good post--in some way that casts a positive light on wherever that post came from because heck, at the very least, that something was inspirational. So let me make one thing clear about the book that prompts this post--I do not endorse this book. To say anything more about it goes against the principles that make From Left to Write such a great book club so I won't go into the reasons why. Instead I will write about something that I really do love and that is PIZZA.

The author brings up early on that the most frequently used word after the word "the" on his dating website is "PIZZA." And I can understand exactly why. I love pizza. I love deep-dish pizza (I'm from Chicaaaaago), I love thin-crust pizza, I love New York pizza, and I even love Korean style pizza with corn and kimchee on top. If I were stranded on a deserted island with a food replicator from the USS Enterprise that would only assemble one type of food, that food would be pizza. I'm betting I wouldn't be the only one. According to Wikipedia, 13% of the U.S. population eats pizza on any given day.

When I think about my childhood and what I ate as a latch-key kid, the image of Totino's pizza and a tall glass of milk instantly come to mind. It was love at first bite when I sank my teeth into my first ooey-gooey cheesy slice as a FOK (Fresh Off Korean airlines). Frozen pizza was the first thing I cooked in an oven by myself. I did burn my hand, but I remember feeling pretty proud of my 9 year old self. High school was all about deep dish, since every club's end of the year celebration was invariably held at Nancy's Pizza. Hey, any pizza place with Ditka on its website is legit by any Midwesterner's standards. And what college student doesn't eat her own body weight in pizza every semester? quarter?

I had the good fortune of going to college in New Haven, CT, where good to great pizza could be found on every block.  Naples was the go-to place where you could get a hot slice any time it was open. They had a article on the wall quoting a history professor saying that pizza was the perfect food and he ate it nearly every day. Well, if it was good enough for him, then any guilt I had previously for eating the amount of pizza that I did just dripped off my plate like grease from a piping hot slice. Pepe's was for taking the parents and Bar was for dates. In college I discovered the deliciousness of mashed potato, white and red clams, anchovies, and other toppings that you wouldn't find on a supermarket freezer pie.

After college came New York City, the mecca of pizza IMO. I have had pizza in Italy and I don't think it is as good as it is in Manhattan, the crust is not the same chewy yet crispy texture you get from NYC water. Lombardi's, Otto Enoteca, Waldy's, Fat Sal's, Ray's, and even the 99 cent slice that used to be across the street from Port Authority--they all had their place in the pizza kaleidoscope. I ate a lot of pizza. I could no longer drink milk with pizza (Asian lactose-intolerance caught up with me), but anything else went perfectly whether it was Jarritos Tarmarindo, Brooklyn Lager, or Yakult-laced Jinro.  

I used to be able to eat 4 slices of an 8 slice pie in one sitting. These days any more than 2 makes my pre-diabetes symptoms flare up. But PIZZA, I can't quit you. Be it a slice from Giovanni's, the Matt Cain from Patxi's, or an entire pie from Hot 'N Ready, I need my fix weekly. October may be the time to break out the pink ribbons, but it's also NATIONAL PIZZA MONTH!!!!! Guess what I'm eating for dinner tomorrow. After reading this post, you might be eating it too!  Bon Appetit!!

This post was inspired by Dataclysm: Who We Are (When We Think No One’s Looking) by OKCupid co-founder Christian Rudder, where he analyzes online data to find out that people who prefer beer are more likely to have sex on a first date. Join From Left to Write on October 9th as we discuss Dataclysm. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

From Left to Write: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory 50th Anniversary

As someone who majored in British history in college, I have some bones to pick with Roald Dahl. When I read Charlie and the Chocolate Factory as a child, I took everything at face value. But now, I read it and think, that's just impossible--there can't be a person screwing on caps at the toothpaste factory, a ninety-six year old who has been bed-ridden for twenty years (Grandpa Joe) can't suddenly get up and start walk (his leg muscles would have withered away due to non-use), and, here's the history part, a family of seven in 1964 England in such desperate financial straits would have received enough welfare assistance from the government that they wouldn't have had to eat cabbage all day long.

The absolute positive knowing that goes all the way to my bones of that fact is a small part of the Golden Ticket of my life--my college education. Yes it may be trite and overdone, but for me, going to college was and is the ticket to opening doors for me that would otherwise have been shut. Since we moved to the U.S. at five years old, my sisters and I worked with my parents in their business. My entire childhood, my parents operated stands in Chicago's largest flea market as well as opening up their store in Chicago's South Side and in Logan Square. I remember getting up before dawn and standing outside in the freezing Chicago winter and thanking God when my legs would thaw with the sunrise. I remember my father coming home after being punched in the face and held up at gunpoint. I remember reading Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and thinking how I wanted so much to win a Golden Ticket to get my own family out of our miserable financial condition. My parents labored seven days a week for the singular goal of getting me to the best college I could achieve. And from the day I was accepted at Yale, I knew that on some level, I had made their years of hard work worth it because my future would be better than our past and present.

In many ways, college was my Golden Ticket. Most importantly, for the first time in my life, I had health insurance. I went to UHS once a week mostly because I could finally get everything checked out. Of course the education itself was the best in its league, but I fully appreciated the other opportunities I had never had in my childhood and made sure I made the most of the experience: joining the crew team, touring with the Yale Gospel Choir, going to Oxford for junior year abroad, and working as head manager of the varsity football team.  It made me the person I am today and continues to enrich my life. I met my husband at Yale when I was a freshman, so you could say that I stare in the face of my Golden Ticket every day!

For both Charlie and myself, however, the Golden Ticket itself didn't guarantee anything. Charlie had to pass the tests to earn the right to be Wonka's heir. Likewise, my college degree has opened doors, but it was my hard work and my job performance that kept those doors open. Any Golden Ticket by itself is meaningless. You have to use the ticket and follow through to the end to make something great happen. I'm so glad I was able to read the book again with my son H. Here are some of H's thoughts on the book:

I thank God for giving the blessing of my Golden Ticket. Boola boola!

This post was inspired by the classic Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl, which celebrates its 50th anniversary this year. To celebrate, Penguin Young Readers Group, in partnership with Dylan’s Candy Bar, the world-famous candy emporium, and First Book, a nonprofit social enterprise that provides books for children from low-income families, is launching a year-long international celebration.

Head over to From Left to Write to learn how you and your child can have a chance to win the Golden Ticket Sweepstakes where the grand prize is a magical trip to New York City plus much more! For every entry submitted, Penguin Young Readers Group will make a donation to First Book. Then, join From Left to Write on July 24 as we discuss Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. As a book club member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

From Left to Write: Bittersweet

This past weekend was a whirlwind of family events. My Stewart (actually his middle name) is named after his older cousin Stewart. Stewart and his wife C are in the mid 40s. I don't actually know how old they are because my Stewart had told me that his cousin Stewart was 45 when we first met, which was when Stewart was actually 30-something. Stewart and C are about to have their first baby and family flew in from Oregon, where Stewart grew up. My in-laws extended family is one aspect of Stewart's family that I LOVE. Like the protagonist in this month's From Left To Write's book selection Bittersweet, I have given my heart to this sprawling family that has accepted me with love in return. My own family is limited to my sisters and parents since all our other relatives are in Korea.

Stewart's family is very tight with each other for life events. When we had our wedding in Chicago many years ago, everyone flew and drove in from every corner of the U.S. and Korea. It was the last time we would dance into the wee hours with Uncle Mel, who shortly thereafter had a stroke. Then his wife, Stewart's Aunt Soo, fell ill with brain cancer and passed away after a short but brave fight. Most recently we got together for Aunt Chunghee's 80th birthday bash in Oregon and Stewart's sister's wedding in Los Angeles. During these happy and tragically sad times, the family came together and supported one another and always let each other know they were there to be leaned upon and even held onto for dear life. Even this past weekend, when we were all gathered together to celebrate the imminent arrival of a new addition to this wonderful family, the members of the Oregon contingent made the time to go visit Uncle Mel, who is in a nursing facility forty minutes away.

I am very blessed and proud to be part of this family. I was at Trader Joe's with Stewart's cousin M when I ran into a friend. I don't think M knew how happy I was to be able to say, "this is my cousin M" as I introduced her to my friend. I drove M around town and lent my hands wherever they were needed to help with the event. Stewart wasn't around because he was getting ready for Bay to Breakers and had taken BART to the city to pick up his number. Every moment was special and nice and yet bittersweet. Because I knew that on one level I was soaking it all in to fill up my love tank so that I could survive today. Today is the one year anniversary of my young cousin Dong-gi's car accident in Korea. His life had just been about to take off. He had served his obligatory time in the Korean military, paid his dues at the entry-level posts of his career and was on a project that was going to take him to success. He could start thinking about getting married and moving to the next stage of life. All of it cut short by some bad decisions in the middle of the night. I can not stop the tears as they flow while I write this part of my post. My youngest sister J got on a plane from Chicago to Korea so she could be there for the memorial. I told her she was the representative of the U.S. side of the family and carried all our grief, love, comfort and support for my uncle, aunt and cousin.

Family is important. Cherish it, work at it, don't let stupid arguments come in the middle of it. Dong-gi, 사랑해, 내 마음에 아직도있다.

This post was inspired by Bittersweet by Miranda Beverly-Whittemore, a novel that exposes the gothic underbelly of an American dynasty, and an outsider’s hunger to belong. Join From Left to Write on May 20 we discuss Bittersweet. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

From Left to Write: The Idea of Him

I love New York.
I absolutely love New York.
New York is the best.
How did I get here from there?

As I was pumping gas at Costco this morning, these thoughts ran through my head as I was trying to think of something to post for our From Left to Write book club selection, The Idea of Him. Then it hit me. I was drawn to the book because it is set in New York City, the dream city of my childhood. There was also a Him that was part of my New York life, but that's a story best left untouched. Living in New York was the idea of glamour, intrigue, and success that was my singular goal growing up in the suburbs of Chicago. For a time I achieved it. Then I let it go because I felt myself getting hard like the Sunscreen Song predicted. But I loved my life there. So this is my post on why I love New York. Because there are too many reasons for just one blog post, I'm going to limit myself to five. The first five that fill my head--go.

1. People. Everyone from everywhere. You can be rich, poor, college graduate, high school dropout, old, young, white, black, yellow, brown, Jews for Jesus, Lost Tribe of Israel, anyone and everyone is there. Sometimes when I look around here in the Bay Area it strikes me how different the diversity here looks. Yes, there are people of every background here but it seems like there are pockets of this or that ethnic group or socio-economic echelon rather than the glorious patchwork of God's creation that you get in one subway car down Broadway. I miss that. It saddens me that Princess E stares at certain people in Trader Joe's because she rarely sees them around town. It saddens me that my children don't get why Martin Luther King Jr. was so important. It saddens me that everyone, including R's preschool teacher, first speaks Chinese to me because they assume I'd rather speak that than English. (I'm Korean, BTW.)

2. Food. Anything you want to eat any time of day or night. Oxtail soup on 32nd Street to stave off a hangover at 4 AM. Seitan burritos and all the homemade chips and salsa you can eat at Burrito Box. Bread from Amy's. The impeccable service at Union Square Cafe. Overindulgence at Daniel, Bouley, Le Bernardin. Steaks at a restaurant where a member of La Cosa Nostra was gunned down outside. Macarons from Fauchon. Breakfast at Tea & Sympathy. Part of me can't believe how much money I spent on food in Manhattan, but another part of me doesn't regret a single cent. It's not as if I could have those delectable morsels now even if I had internet startup IPO millions. I will say that the one area where the Bay Area does beat Manhattan is in boba tea. Gong Cha, you almost make up for not being able to get a Kati Roll. Yes, I even miss the Indian food in Manhattan. There are no food carts where I live, so the tastes can't be replicated, sadly.

3. Easily accessible culture. There is a show of every kind going on at all times of the year in New York. Ballet, opera, Broadway, art exhibitions, foreign film festivals, S&M exhibits, whatever tickles your fancy. Here you have to plan and drive. I used to go get the nosebleed tickets at Lincoln Center because I knew I could go by myself and catch one act or the first half of something before I had to go back to work. I used to go to the Guggenheim solo because I hate being rushed. Sometimes I just want to go stare at Kandinsky for an hour. And not have it be a big deal or a super trek. So in this post NYC life, I end up doing next to nothing.

View from Rockefeller Center (my former office-this photo from Wikipedia)

4. Youth. As I look back on my life in New York, I know that I'm wearing rose-colored glasses. As much as I miss anything else, what I'm really missing is my youth. My 20s and early 30s. My life after college. My first fitting at a designer dress shop. My first robin egg blue gift box. Going to the exact same bars as featured on SATC and ordering cosmos. Everything is exhilarating the first time around. It loses its appeal subsequent times down the line. The City keeps you feeling young because of its frenetic energy, the constant influx of new blood, and its belief that it is the center of the Universe. If you can make it there, you can make it anywhere.

5. Proximity to my college and Stewart's alma mater. I loved my college. The actual campus and the football stadium. I loved being able to get on the Metro-North and go back whenever I wanted for games or even just to walk around. I have photos of H as a toddler sitting on the canons at West Point. As much as I am proud of my sister, it isn't the same feeling when I walk with her through Cardinal territory. It's probably stemming from the same place as number four, but on this coast I have nothing to connect me to my youth, no sense of continuity with my past and the loss is palpable at times.

Having gone through this litany of memories, I realize that what I'm missing is not the Idea of New York. It's really the Idea of Me. Who I was for such a long time and how I felt connected to the world and my environment. How I defined myself. And the message is clear. Like Allie in The Idea of Him, I need to move on. I can't keep looking to the past to limit my present. I can't long for a past that can't be replicated or relived or regained even I moved to New York this minute. I need to stay focused on the future and invent a new narrative. I know I can do it. After all, not only is the steaming, angry concrete animal a part of me, I'm a woman. And I'm a blogger. Hear me roar!

This post was inspired by the novel The Idea of Him by Holly Peterson. Allie thought she had the perfect husband, until she finds him and another woman in a compromising position in their own apartment. Join From Left to Write on April we discuss The Idea of Him. Join us for a live chat with Holly on April 3.  As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

From Left to Write: The Divorce Papers

This post was inspired by the novel The Divorce Papers by Susan Rieger. Young lawyer Sophie unwillingly takes her first divorce case with an entertaining and volatile client in this novel thold mostly through letters and legal missives. Join From Left to Write on March 18 as we discuss The Divorce Papers. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

When I went to law school, it was with the full intention of becoming a litigator. I would champion the rights of the downtrodden, fight for liberty and justice for all. If you've seen Erin Brockovich and A Civil Action, you have some picture of how lawyers can work for the good of people who have no voice. As for my specialty, apparently I told the associate in my investment banking group that I was going to do environmental law after one too many visits to toxic sludge-filled steel companies.

The reality proved to be different. Because of that banking background, it became nearly impossible to get a firm job in litigation. My experience was in Mergers and Acquisitions and corporate transactions, so naturally interviewers pegged me to follow that path as an attorney. Also, because of my nature as an introvert (which is nothing to be ashamed of as I discussed in a prior FLTW post), the mock trial sessions we had as part of our legal research and writing class filled me with terror. When I got in front of the judge (a mere 2L) to make my opening statement, I also passed out. It was bad. So I thought it was destiny that I would become a corporate attorney.

Fast forward ten years. Reading The Divorce Papers made me think about my current position as a contract attorney at an intellectual property litigation boutique. In my five years on the corporate side, it never crossed my mind that I would be working in litigation. Like the main character Sophie who specialized in criminal law but took a detour to work on a divorce case for the firm, I was presented the opportunity to dive back into law firm work last summer, albeit in litigation. I took it, since positions for lawyer moms who've taken time off are few and far between.

available at CafePress.com

Having worked for the past eight months on a variety of matters, I'm still undecided as to whether I will continue with litigation or focus my energy on getting back to corporate. So I wanted to share a couple insights I've gained through the experience to sort through my thought process. You can stop reading here if the mere thought of delving into different types of law practice fills you with dread. Totally understandable, after all, I wrote my college senior thesis on the sentiment from Shakespeare, "Kill all the lawyers."

First, if a hostile takeover is like a lightning raid, then litigation as it exists today in the U.S. is akin to the long drawn-out trench warfare of the first world war. As an M&A attorney, I worked on many antagonistic transactions. One of my strengths was my innate paranoia; that there was always something the other side was not telling us that I needed to ferret out and expose. There were many nights of sleeping at the office, wading through the documents and working out merger agreements. But it was rare that the entire process would last more than 6-9 months. Some of the smaller private deals went even quicker and were done in 3-5 months. IP litigation, on the other hand, is an exercise of patience. It can be years before a case even gets to a Markman hearing, the pretrial hearing that determines claim construction. Then if the trial is considered to be on the fast track, the actual trial will begin a year later.

Second, litigation is a game. The primary focus isn't getting justice under the law but winning. There are some situations where clearly the other side is making up lies that boggle the mind, but they persist in twisting the facts and the law to make their points. Even if the two sides of an M&A deal are at odds, once the merger agreement is signed, most of the adversarial posturing disappears. Merger agreements have Material Adverse Change clauses that will sink the deal if a extraordinarily liability comes out of the woodwork prior to and some time subsequent to closing. In litigation, if there is a smoking gun that one side manages to bury in the tens and hundreds of thousands of documents produced during discovery, then it is completely up to the receiving side to find it before it is too late. And even if two sides have gone back and forth on the case for over a lengthy period, there is nothing to prevent one side from slapping the other with a Rule 11 Professional Misconduct motion for bringing a case with no merit. Hey other side, if there were no merit, then why argue over the issues for more than a year before bringing your motion?!?

Last, "justice" is largely dependent on the judge assigned to the case and what that judge had for breakfast. It's amazing to see how the outcomes in many cases even in a single federal district in CA can differ from judge to judge. Basically, you can find cases to support whatever you want to argue. In the corporate context, if you are before the FTC or the SEC, even if it is one attorney writing the response to your issue, the sense is that it really is a collaborative office effort, rather than the determination of one person. No action letters and relief letters are relied upon (even if they state they shouldn't be relied upon) and subsequent actions come out in the same way for the most part. In litigation, the judge usually has the reputation of being plaintiff or defendant biased, but there is nothing anyone can do about it anymore since he is federally appointed and can only be dismissed for gross misconduct.

All of that said, I have relished the opportunity to go back to the office setting to learn IP law and the ins and outs of litigation. Learning how to use Westlaw efficiently all over again and drafting documents has given much satisfaction to my inner nerd. I'm a person that fights hard against change. It took me years to change my driver's license, my phone number, and my permanent mailing address. Some of my accounts are still listed under my maiden name. But what I've learned over and over again, that once you embrace change and step out of your comfort zone, you will be stretched and enriched in the process. The version of YOU that emerges is one that is wiser and more connected to the world. The banner across the blackboard of my seventh grade English class read, "Nothing is as constant as change." Every year of my life I find that to be true. How will you step out of your comfort zone?
  

From Left to Write: The Execution of Noa P. Singleton

This post was inspired by the novel The Execution of Noa P. Singleton by Elizabeth L. Silver. Mere months before Noa’s execution, her victim’s mother changed her mind Noa’s sentence and vows to help stay the execution. Join From Left to Write on July 30 as we discuss The Execution of Noa P. Singleton. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review. Due to the highly sensitive nature of this post I want to make it clear that these opinions are entirely my own and do not reflect the views of anyone at From Left to Write.

It's hard to be a lawyer sometimes. Actually all of the time. Either your relatives want you to do work for free or your own knowledge of the law makes you argue something when it's clearly not worth your time just because you know you're legally correct. There are some decisions that absolutely SHOCK the heck out of me, yet at the same time they don't because I've seen how the law works from the inside. There are always cases that support each side of any issue. Cases from each of the 50 states and cases from the Supreme Court from which lawyers argue citing the main decision or the dissent, whatever supports their argument. Everything is debatable. If you're not familiar with the legal reasoning of the Trayvon Martin case, the reason GZ was found "Not Guilty" is that Self Defense as a legal concept is an absolute defense against culpability. If you can win on the Self Defense, the prosecution doesn't even get to the elements of the crime.
 
When I was reading The Execution of Noa P. Singleton I was struck by the absolute need for me to post about the Trayvon Martin decision because of the existence of a gun shot in each case that irrevocably changed the lives involved in the shooting.  One single shot ended the life of one character and erased any hope of redemption for another character in The Execution of Noa P. Singleton. One single shot ended the life of Trayvon Martin and the ability for GZ to have a normal life. One act, one fraction of a second, one death that had consequences reverberating far beyond that which the shooter could have imagined. Yet, the similarities end there. For GZ was able to argue successfully the defense of Self Defense that led to a "Not Guilty" verdict.

These are the elements of Self Defense:

Element 1 - Actual belief regarding use of physical force by other person

The first element is that when the defendant GZ used defensive force against Trayvon Martin, he actually -- that is, honestly and sincerely -- believed that the other person was using or about to use physical force against him. The jury found this element satisfied by GZ's voice on the 911 call. I discuss this later, but I think this isn't ironclad. Since no one was there, do we know for sure whether GZ was actually being attacked? Anyone can call 911 and scream that they are being attacked.

Element 2 - Reasonableness of that belief

The second element is that the defendant's actual belief about the force being used or about to be used against him was a reasonable belief. The jury found the belief to be reasonable. Why? Because they believed that Trayvon Martin had actually attacked GZ. I have a different theory. The friend that he spoke to one minute before the entire episode took place warned Trayvon that if there was a big man following him, then he may be about to rape him. Teenagers are very impressionable. And yes, Trayvon had marijuana in his system, so he probably was more sensitive to the suggestion that he was about to be raped. Did the jury even consider that Trayvon Martin was acting in his reasonable belief that he was about to be attacked? Of course not, they only look at it from the perspective of the person who killed him. If Trayvon were justifiably defending himself against an attack, then doesn't that negate the reasonableness of GZ's belief that Trayvon was using force? You don't tell rape victims that they will be punished because they defended themselves against the rapist, do you?

Element 3 - Actual belief regarding degree of force necessary

The third element is that when the defendant used physical force upon Trayvon Martin for the purpose of defending himself, he actually -- that is, honestly and sincerely -- believed that the degree of force he used was necessary for that purpose. If anyone believes they need to shoot to kill when the other person is unarmed, they are not using the degree of force necessary. Is taking a life so easy that you need to shoot to kill when it is your "standing your ground" that has brought you into the situation? GZ only had to use force because he didn't run away or call the police when he first spotted Trayvon. If GZ thought Trayvon was dangerous enough that he had to shoot him, he should have called the police, not acted like a vigilante. And if he wasn't skilled enough with a gun to shoot Trayvon only enough to stop the attack, then he had no business walking around with a gun in the first place. My name is on the NRA Roll and I have no problem saying that anyone who doesn't know how to use a gun shouldn't have one. This is not about gun control, this is about people having guns who are NOT qualified to have them.

Element 4 - Reasonableness of that belief

The fourth element is that the defendant's actual belief about the degree of force necessary to defend himself was a reasonable belief. I was a successful corporate attorney because I was  paranoid. On an M&A deal, I always thought the other side was out to get us so I would dig until I found the hidden liability they were trying to foist onto us. So my theory is this--I think GZ planned in advance to kill Trayvon Martin. He had seen Trayvon walking home on another occasion and thought it would be the perfect crime. His neighborhood patrolling was just a pretense for him to walk around armed, waiting for the right opportunity. Then he would pretend that he was being attacked, make a 911 call, and kill the unarmed black teenager in cold blood. Is my theory reasonable? Any more reasonable than killing a unarmed teenager because he's black and wearing a hoodie? I'm convinced that if Trayvon Martin had been Asian, even if he had acted in the same exact way, GZ would not have killed him.

I wonder how GZ can maintain his silence. Even if this all were true and the defense of Self Defense actually applies to him, how could anyone who has killed another living, breathing human being out of sheer arrogance hold his head up in society. If it were me, I would have taken a deal with the prosecution to serve at least some jail time to atone for the taking of Trayvon Martin's life. Was he afraid if he did that, that he would be marked man in prison and likely killed before he could get out? He is a marked man now, getting death threats every minute and not able to leave his house without body armor. He may even have been safer in prison.

Since the verdict, I've been thinking about so many different arguments that people have been making about how the jury couldn't find enough evidence to convict. But they don't sway me. GZ killed Trayvon Martin. In my mind that makes him Guilty. Of killing someone! If the legal system doesn't hold him accountable, GZ should atone for it himself. None of us should get away with something because the law lets us do it. If that were the case, we might as well all steal and cheat and lie on our taxes because we will probably get away with it. There is right and wrong. There is justice and injustice. If we want our children to grow up to be decent human beings, we need to stop racial profiling and admit to our prejudices. These days whenever I see a black person, I want to apologize for the failings of society, of the law, of myself. I'm afraid they might take it the wrong way if I do that, so I end up just averting my eyes and feeling guilty. I can only do what I can and make sure my children don't grow up with prejudice. I hope all of us can do whatever little thing we can to make sure something like this never happens again.

From Left to Write: Afterwards

I return to the Blogosphere with an account of Princess E's trip to the ER last week. She has been unlucky the past few months with one cold after another. She had a lingering cough that would act up at night time. Last Tuesday she started coughing during the day. She was wheezing audibly by 6 PM, at which point I called Kaiser. To give you some background, this wasn't my first trip to the rodeo. H had cold-induced asthma as a toddler. R had croup which was so severe he needed to be hospitalized. That is why we own a nebulizer and have facemasks and cords bulging out of our medicine cabinet. Because of our previous experiences with the kids, I, in all my medical wisdom, decided I would ask Kaiser for a prescription for albuterol so Princess E could have a breathing treatment. The nurse listened but ultimately denied my request and told me I should take my daughter to the ER if she got worse.

Two hours later, Princess E was wheezing even more and then threw up violently after I tried to brush her teeth. I figured that meant she was "worse." I drove her to the Santa Clara Kaiser ER even though there was another Kaiser ER 10 min from my house. Stewart and I each had had bad experiences with the closer Kaiser ER and I thought driving to the one in Santa Clara would assure us of a better experience. Ummm, not! The same intake doctor who had been at the closer hospital ER was now at the Santa Clara Kaiser, whaaaat! He didn't seem to think that Princess E was in serious condition so stuck us in the exam room/supply closet. It was very strange. Doctors and nurses would walk in to get supplies while we were waiting for the exam doctor. Maybe they felt bad about this, but all of them felt like they had to pat Princess E's head or squeeze her foot. Hey doctor, why are you touching my kid without sanitizing your hands??????

Finally the exam doctor comes to examine Princess E and says what she needs is a breathing treatment (yeah,
really?). They also order a chest X-ray to rule out pneumonia since she has been sick for so long. Almost immediately after the breathing treatment, Princess E is breathing better. I really don't see why they needed to make us go to the ER when they could have ordered a prescription for her for the exact same thing. Since albuterol is not a harsh drug by any means, letting her have the treatment at home and then having us follow up with her pediatrician the next day would've made more sense to me. All clear on the X-ray, by the way.

Being in the hospital with Princess E made me think of Grace, the main character in the novel Afterwards that I had just read for the From Left to Write book club. Grace thought she knew what was the best for her daughter and (I don't want to spoil it for you so I'll be vague) engineered it medically so that what she wanted for her daughter would be done by the doctors. Grace knew what her daughter needed and made sure she got it. In hindsight I feel like I should have been more insistent with the Kaiser nurse on the phone to get the albuterol, and if she had said no, I should have gotten the script from another doctor. Instead I let myself be cowed by the medical "professional" who didn't know my child or her history. I took Princess E to the ER where she was exposed to a needless X-ray and a plethora of germs, especially from the doctors and nurses who couldn't keep their hands off my beautiful daughter!

Next time, I won't be making the half an hour drive to the "better" ER. If I recognize the symptoms of something she has had before, then I will insist on home care. There is a saying in Korean 엄마손 약손, which translates into "mom's hands medicine hands." I think I know where that is coming from--no one knows a child better than her mother, no one loves her child better than her mother. And love can be a powerful medicine indeed.

This post was inspired by the novel Afterwards by Rosamund Lupton. After witnessing her children's school set ablaze, Grace attempts to find the arson as her teenage daughter lies in a coma in Lupton's suspense thriller. Grace fights for her daughter and believes she knows what her daughter needs. Join From Left to Write on April 11 as we discuss Afterwards. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

From Left to Write: The Expats

This post was inspired by mystery thriller novel The Expats by Chris Pavone. Kate Moore happily sheds her old life to become a stay at home mom when her husband takes a job in Europe. As she attempts to reinvent herself, she ends up chasing her evasive husband's secrets. Join From Left to Write on January 22 (the paperback release date) as we discusss The Expats. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.


Kate Moore is a working mother, struggling to make ends meet, to raise children, to keep a spark in her marriage . . . and to maintain an increasingly unbearable life-defining secret. So when her husband is offered a lucrative job in Luxembourg, she jumps at the chance to leave behind her double-life, to start anew.

When I read this lead into the description of the book, what struck me for the first time was the term "working mother." I've heard it many times before, but I never thought about the irony of it. When a mom works outside the home, she is called a working mother, but if a father does, there is no equivalent, he's just a father, right? It also denigrates what stay-at-home moms (SAHMs) do because it implies that moms who are raising their kids are not working. Any SAHM would tell you in a heartbeat that the job we have is definitely the hardest one in the world. You are all at once a psychologist, housekeeper, cook, day care teacher, van driver, janitor, laundry operator, facilities manager, computer operator, and CEO of your household. Salary.com calculated last year that an average SAHM should be paid $112,962 for her work. I think mine would be higher because of the many many times I have cleaned R's vomit off the floor due to his weak esophagus (sorry Costco shoppers). Unfortunately you can't list this on your resume.

So that was why when Kate Moore decides to quit her job as a CIA agent to become a SAHM in Europe, I mentally shouted at her, you idiot! Do you have any idea how hard it will be to ever work again, especially if the break in your resume is measured by years and not months? A lot of people say that nowadays it is understood that a woman can take a break in her career (although being a SAHM is no break but time spent doing hard labor!) and she will be able to return to work. But in actuality, this is still much harder to do than it appears. And I get it, all things being equal, would I want to hire someone who has not being working in her profession for a period of time if there is at least one other person that is equally qualified but that has been working the entire time? Of course, the less risky path would be to hire the person who is currently working in the same career.

I have been quite frustrated by the responses I get from employers during my job search. Because I clarify that I was not fired from my last job but that I resigned to stay at home with my kids, they think it is fair game to ask me how many kids I have, who will take care of them, and how I would feel about missing Christmas and Easter with them. And even though I tell them I will work as hard and as much as I am required, they don't seem to believe me. One employer provided the feedback that it seemed like I didn't want it that much. Really? I guess I took the California bar exam while pregnant and taking care of two kids for the pure fun of the mental exercise. I guess I hired babysitters to go for interviews all over the Bay Area and even to Washington, D.C. because I wanted to get out of the house more. I guess ensuring the survival of our species through propagation is actually an act of professional suicide. Let me point out--no one would ever question a man's ability to perform at the top of his game because he has three kids.

If you are an employer given the opportunity to hire a woman with kids who has taken a break from her career, you need to look beyond the fact that there is someone else you can hire who is currently working. You have no idea how dedicated this woman will be to making sure she outperforms everyone else because she has to prove that you don't need to cut her any slack because she is a mom. She will be better at multi-tasking and at learning new things than anyone else you have working for you (other than the other moms of course). If she can juggle the extra-curricular activities of three kids (currently swimming, math, chess, piano, science, and Awana for my kiddos), she will be able to manage the deadlines of cases and assignments in her sleep. And speaking of sleep, she will be used to not getting any, so you know she can pull all-nighters effectively. If you have a new client or topic that she needs to learn about quickly, you will not be disappointed, for a woman who can learn about the five different generations and 649 different species of Pokémon over two days can certainly get up to speed to write an in-depth relief letter to the CFTC on a new carbon trading investment vehicle.

(Spoiler alert) I was so happy and relieved at the end of the book when Kate is able to work again. At least there is a fictional woman of my recent acquaintance that I can vicariously live through. Thank you for your consideration.

From Left to Write: Gone Girl

If you need a fun read for the summer, I have a great suggestion for you: one of From Left to Write's June book club selections: Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn. It's not the book you think it is when you start reading it. By the end you'll have gone through so many flips and turns that you'll be left stammering, "what just happened?" but in a good way. 

Life has many flips and turns that you never anticipate when you start out. By starting out I mean, after college. Because more and more I realize that all the research about people's brains not reaching full adult maturity until your mid-20s is TRUE. I just can't believe how much of a know-it-all I was in high school and college when I knew nothing at all. Even now, there is so much I have to learn, but at least I'm more aware of my ignorance.

In college, I lived in a house share one break while I was at Oxford. That was the last time I lived in a stand-alone house. Graduation meant diving into life in Manhattan, where no one, not even the super rich, live in a stand-alone house. Then life in DC for law school, which meant more apartments. Then back to Manhattan apt living to start my stint as a corporate attorney. Moving to CA meant two townhouses in succession. My boys have been whining incessantly these past few weeks about wanting a backyard and I came to the realization that I have not lived in a single family home since I left home for college, so 18 years ago. It's strange to think that my mom, an immigrant who spoke little English toiling away at a mom-and-pop store, owned a single family house when she was 34, but graduate school-educated me can only aspire to that in the distant future. How many of us are wondering, "are we going to have a worse life than our parents?" Who could have foreseen the new economy would be one of layoffs and high unemployment? I resigned my position to stay at home with my boys, but every week some bad economic news makes me wonder if I should just grab the first job I can find. Huh?

In college, I never thought of myself as tech-oriented. I barely understood email and almost failed my Pascal programming class because I just could not get it. I cried during office hours. Anything for the professor to have pity on me and not fail me. Thankfully it worked and I was able to get a "Cr" on my transcript (in my college there were no pass-fail classes, the only option was Cr/D/F if you didn't want a grade). So I am bewildered at how I am working at a iPhone app startup, sharing files through Dropbox, and trying to decide whether Path is the next best thing after FB. When someone tells me their clients are startups, I ask pre- or post-funding. While researching social media PR companies, I look at amplification data and total engagement stats. Huh?

In law school, I thought I would be living in New England area for the rest of my life. I had it all planned out. Marry someone with family in the area. Save up enough to send my kids to Choate. Make frequent trips to the old country (being England). Never for a million years did I anticipate that I would be living in the Bay Area, in prime earthquake territory. When I was pregnant with H, Stewart bought me a $17 watermelon from Fairway on the UWS because I was craving it. Now if a watermelon costs more than $6, that's more than I'm willing to pay. I've learned how to wear flip-flops to social occasions and what brands are cooler than others. Do you know why a swim top out here is called a rash guard, while on the East Coast it's called a swim shirt? My LA friend whose husband was a competitive surfer told me that surfers started wearing them so they wouldn't get rashes from the wax on their boards while swimming out to catch waves. Huh?

If you want to read about some characters whose lives take unexpected flips and turns, check out this month's From Left to Write's selection. After I finished I had to go back to read certain parts again because it was just that good. But if your significant other comes downstairs at 2 AM and catches you reading, don't blame me.

This post is inspired by mystery thriller Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn. They may not have the perfect marriage, but after goes missing, Nick becomes the number one suspect. Can he discover what happened before it's too late? Join From Left to Write on June 12 as we discuss Gone Girl. As a member I received a copy of the book for review purposes. All opinions are my own.

From Left to Write: Animal, Vegetable, Miracle

Last Thursday I went to an AYCE Indian buffet. They had some of my favorites, tandoori chicken, chicken tikka masala (yes, I know this is not really an Indian dish), peas pulao and vegetable curry. Oh, and a tangy yogurt sauce that was good enough to drink by itself! After I ate so much that my stomach hurt, I could barely move the rest of the afternoon. I found myself thinking, only in America can you eat so much for so little. After I regained my sight (I ate so much I couldn't even open my eyes), we went to the mall to buy Stewart some last minute supplies before his business trip to Korea. I noticed the sizes of people walking past me. It made me think, if everyone had to grow their own food or barter for it locally like Barbara Kingsolver and her family in this month's From Left to Write book club selection Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life, there mostly likely wouldn't be an obesity problem in the U.S.

That night coincidentally, I watched on Nightline a segment on the Heart Attack Grill. The menus consists of four burger varieties based on the number of half-pound patties: the "Single Bypass Burger," the "Double Bypass Burger," the "Triple Bypass Burger," and the "Quadruple Bypass Burger." Each of the burgers can be augmented with "unadulterated" (not drained of the grease from cooking fat) bacon slices in quantities of five slices per patty, or 5 slices of bacon on the Single Bypass, ten slices on the Double Bypass, 15 slices on the Triple Bypass, and 20 slices of bacon on the Quadruple Bypass Burger. Does this sound gross yet? But wait, that's not all, the only available side item is "Flatliner Fries," fresh French-cut potatoes deep fried in pure lard. Heart Attack Grill also offers "Butter-fat Shakes," so named because it is made from butter fat cream. Various packaged candies are also available as dessert items, most notably the controversial candy cigarette. They actually showed the owner on Nightline offering the cigarettes to little kids. If you weigh over 350 pounds you eat there for free. Their last spokesperson died from pneumonia (which a non-obese person would have survived) and the current spokesperson is someone who had been their previous spokesperson previously but had to take a break because he had heart surgery.

Does this sound disturbing? Yet, the reason why the restaurant was featured on Nightline at all was because a customer in his 40s suffered a heart attack while eating a "triple bypass burger" at the grill on February 11, 2012. Which brings me back to the point of my opening paragraph. If you had to raise the cows and grow the potatoes yourself to get the meat and butter that goes into a Bypass Burger, fries and shake, would you really do it? What if you had to kill the cow yourself and butcher the carcass to get the meat for the hamburger? Would anyone really eat a quadruple patty burger? We have so little appreciation of the work that goes into the food that we eat--we take it for granted that we can eat as much as we want without thinking of the origins of the food.

We have such a first world problem, this issue of obesity and too much readily abundant food. Some would argue that processed packages full of high fructose corn syrup are not food, but even a person eating only that "food" at least will not die of hunger. At any rate, people who are "going hungry" in America are living luxuriously by true hunger standards in the rest of the world. Someone in the U.S. might go hungry by not getting three meals a day; maybe they will get as little as one meal a day from a soup kitchen or similar organization. In the Congo, going hungry means days of not eating anything and on the day you might get to eat, what you get is a small bowl of gruel. In some cases, children and parents take turns eating every third day. I don't think any of us really truly understands what it means to go hungry.

I think I'm probably more conscious of not wasting food than the average American, having lived a pretty strict childhood due to our tight immigrant budget. I remember how pained my mother was when the pediatrician told her that he suspected that I was suffering from malnutrition. I was old enough that I internalized that and have had food issues ever since. Yet, even so, I throw away food every week because it goes bad (usually vegetables that I alone can't eat fast enough because no one else in our family will eat them!) or nobody wants to eat leftovers. I can't help but feel that if I had grown or bartered for all the food, I wouldn't be committing such acts of sacrilege that make the rest of the world hate Americans. At the very least, I would be canning the food like my friend Paige over at Canning with Kids. So what are the next steps? Well, for one, I will buy more local food (thank God I live in California). The boys and I have a date with the Farmer's Market next weekend. Second, I will control myself and not eat to excess. I can't promise I won't go to an AYCE buffet again, but at least I'll be able to walk out with my eyes open. Lastly, I will try harder to make the boys understand how lucky they are to have enough to eat every day. I've already stopped H from saying, "I'm starving." I pray that my children will never ever have to say that for real. I pray also that you and yours will never have occasion to say it, and that, somehow, sometime soon, this world that does produce enough food to feed everyone living in it will get that food to those who need it.
 
Could you live an entire year eating locally or the food from your garden? Barbara Kingsolver transplanted her family from the deserts of Arizona to the mountains of Virginia for their endeavor. Join From Left to Write on February 21 as we discuss Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver. As a member of From Left to Write, I received a copy of the book. Photo of the Quadruple Bypass Burger courtesy of SuperSizedMeals.com. All opinions are my own.