14) The Big Picture 10:44 PM

It's easy to get bogged down in the day to day, and lose your grip on the big picture. Mini meltdowns are a good catalyst for re-evaluating things. No matter how bad things seem to get, I am 1) not terminally ill, 2) not homeless, 3) not trapped in an abusive relationship, and 4) not being hunted down by angry robots. To put all the seemingly tough stuff in perspective, I have to step back and remember that I have a job in an industry that I'm interested in, a loving and supportive family, a great boyfriend, an apartment by the beach, and my health.

It's a lot to ask to be ever-grateful - everyday life can get you mired in the details. But once in awhile, when things get really dark, it's worth taking inventory of the big picture stuff. It's amazing what it can do for your mood and your mindset.

Mini aside - This is a little more personal, and a lot less strategic, but it's Friday and it's been a rough week.

13) Stress 7:41 PM

Lately I've been feeling the physical effects of stress. Big time. After working at my desk for a prolonged period of time, I'll realize that my shoulders are all hunched up unnecessarily around my ears. If someone starts talking about a particularly trying project during lunch, I'll start to eat faster for no apparent reason, turning to chocolate whenever possible. In the morning when I make the mistake of checking my email on my phone while I'm still in bed, I can actually feel my heart start to pound, and my adrenaline levels crest. However cliché and common these symptoms are, it's still fascinating to feel my body react physically to purely mental stressors.

The first reaction might be to dream of a stress-free occupation, absent of tweaked backs and chewed up fingernails. But can you ever have a job that you care about that doesn't involve stress? Aside from the outside stressors - superiors and their expectations, financial concerns, etc., is it not your desire to excel in what you do that causes stress?

Obviously, too much stress (and its physical consequences) isn't healthy. But stress gets a bad rap - you never hear anyone mentioning its benefits. In small doses, stress is really just the sick and twisted second cousin of motivation.

12) Aspirational Purchases 9:08 PM

Every time I go to the grocery store, I’m always faced with a small test of willpower at the check out lane. No, it’s not the stacks of chocolates to my right (I’ve learned to block out the calls of cocoa). It’s a small 7 by 5 inch magazine called Everyday Food, published by the Martha Stewart conglomerate. I’m not a huge Martha fanatic, but Everyday Food always entices, with promises of “Fast, healthy meals” and “Fresh dinners from your freezer,” accompanied by well-lit photography of roasted chicken on a bed of wilted greens, nestled next to a wedge of lemon. Martha and her super team have successfully honed in on a demographic who doesn’t really cook, and are looking for quick, but healthy, but delicious (and cheap) solutions.

At $3.50 a pop, the magazine wouldn’t be a splurge. What stops me from throwing it on top of my yogurt, cereal and red grapes is the fact that I have a sizeable stack of food magazines and cook books at my apartment. A largely unused stack.

One of the most common fallacies is the belief that buying the tools for a new hobby or skill will lead to said hobby or skill. While I have dreams of cooking dinner every night, and have stocked my small kitchen with all the appliances I would need to do so, I can’t even remember the last time I made something other than boiling pasta and heating jarred sauce. It’s not to say that I’ve NEVER cooked, but it’s usually a good two or three months between each appearance of chef Natalie. I remember when I was purchasing the 7-piece non-stick pan set and the Cuisineart blender-food-processor-in-one, I reasoned that if I had the right tools to cook, I would have no excuse not to.

Turns out, there are plenty of excuses. By the time I get home from work, it would be 9-9:30PM before a cooked meal would be ready. It’s often cheaper and easier just to eat out. But something tells me that if I really wanted to cook more, I would make it happen.

Just like buying a Nike Plus won’t automatically make a couch potato a runner, and investing in a full set of pastels and acrylics won’t necessarily make you a painter, spending money on cooking magazines won’t make me cook more. However, we make these aspirational purchases in the hopes that it will change us. Of course, that’s not to say that someone who is really committed to taking up running wouldn’t be motivated by a gadget that tracks mileage and heart rate. But like any research design professor will tell you, you can’t assume causation.

Maybe it’s just a matter of time. For now, I guess I can be satisfied in knowing that when I do have the time, money and motivation to cook, Martha & I will be ready.

11) Chatroulette 8:58 PM

Tonight, a handful of observations on Chatroulette. For those who don't participate, a definition from Wikipedia:

Chatroulette is a website that pairs random strangers for webcam-based conversations. Visitors to the website randomly begin an online chat (video, audio and text) with another visitor. At any point, either user may leave the current chat by initiating another random connection.

1) Much like Craigslist, any well-intentioned original purpose for Chatroulette (meet people from all over! let random chance lead you to engaging conversations! interact with cute girls!) are now largely overshadowed by the fact that 1 of 8 spins yields something R-rated. Any hopes of meeting solo females are quickly quashed by the prevalence of male nudity and masturbation.

2) When engaging in Chatroulette, you make yourself a captive audience. You are at the mercy of whoever you get paired with, at least for the split second before you hit "Next". Harley Davidson's ad agency Sassenbach took advantage of these willing eyeballs by setting up a webcam and a branded sign that read, "Sorry, I'm on the road." I'm sure we'll see more examples of Chatroulette used as an ad medium.

3) Done in groups: fun, socially acceptable. Done alone: creepy, socially unacceptable.

4) Males 18-24 are the highest indexing demographic on Chatroulette, followed distantly by females 18-24. Knowing this, is the site a fair petri dish sample of this age group? It'd be interesting to think about what sort of social research could be conducted using the site.

5) The swelling popularity (35,000 people on at any given time, an estimated 1.5 million users) of Chatroulette is just another testament to a yearning for human connection. Even that of a complete stranger (and possibly their genitalia).

10) The Big One 7:47 PM

As a native Californian, earthquakes have never been a source of worry. I survived the 1989 Loma Prieta quake with vague memories of an uneventful evening. Since then, each minor, half-hearted wiggle has been an exercise of apathy. An initial "whoa" followed by an internal dialogue of whether it's worth it to duck and cover. Before I've even come to a conclusion, it's over.

So imagine my surprise and skepticism when Eric (not a CA native) informed me that I was in need of an earthquake preparedness kit. Among other things, this includes five Sparkletts-delivers sized gallons of water. Little did I know, there is a whole market for these kits. Each ranges in scope. The most extensive list I've seen is from SFgate.com, which suggests that one basically keep a second set of all basic possessions on hand. Just in case.

Am I alone in my poo-pooing of earthquakes? Or do native Californians in general share my irreverent attitude? It's not to say that I believe the dreaded and much-predicted Big One will never happen. The inevitability looms, and we struggle to assign a long enough range for our predictions. I've heard the "sometime in the next decade" guess at least a few times in my life.

Equipping your apartment with a kit can only bring you so much peace of mind. Is the rest a matter of accepting the unavoidable and living your life in spite of it? Or of ignorant bliss?

Week One 6:14 PM

After about a week on The Plan, here's what I've learned:

1) "I would have written a shorter letter, but I did not have the time." My first couple posts were long winded and overwhelming to read. Expressing meaningful ideas in edible, short posts is half the challenge.

2) Fridays are the hardest. Hands down.

3) Though the point is to write every day, it'd probably be a good idea to have a couple posts on hand in case of emergencies.

4) I missed writing.

Thanks for checking in, and for all the supportive emails!

9) Collective Voices 9:50 AM

A couple weeks ago I went to see the Los Angeles Master Chorale at the Walt Disney Concert Hall. It's a gorgeous venue with equally amazing accoustics. The program was very avant garde (a little too much for my tastes) with only a handful of soloists singing a majority of the time. This created a stark contrast to the parts when the whole choir stood up and sang. Whenever their thunderous voices erupted together in song, a lump immediately jumped to my throat. I wrote it off as a general appreciation for music, enhanced by the grandeur of my surroundings.

Then last week I was at the gym before work, running on a treadmill placed conveniently in front of several TVs. One is always devoted to music videos à la MTV circa the 80s. About halfway through my simulated forest trail run, 30 Seconds to Mars' Kings and Queens video came on. Its basic concept is a group of colorful fixie lovers on a critical mass bike ride through empty city streets. At about 4:47 the riders stream onto the Santa Monica Pier, their lights winking in time to the neons of the famous Ferris wheel. At 5:08, the voices of many sing a series of "ooooh-oooohs" to close out the video. To my surprise, I was overwhelmed by the same lump-in-throat, about to cry feeling. On a treadmill. Surrounded by sweaty people.

I got to thinking about collective voices, and the emotional tug it has on us. Whether they make us cry (ok, I didn't actually cry), smile (T-Mobile's Hey Jude Sing-a-Long above), or feel inspired (Michael Jackson's We are the World), collective voices stir something within us.

It's usually the na-na's and the oh-oh's that are delegated to the sea of voices. The easy parts that everyone can sing along to. In fact, they are made for the crowd. It would sound unimpressive if one Beatle soloed the, "naaaaaaa, na, na, na-na-na-naaaaa" section in Hey Jude. Parts like that require the fullness of many voices in order to be impactful.

This ease of entry allows for the maximum number of participants, who are now part of something bigger than their individual selves. When you listen to collective singing, you can never distinguish one voice from another. I suspect that part of the emotional lever is this very loss of individuality. It's a selfless contribution of voice to a greater whole. When we hear collective voices and witness the whole, a sense of unity and humanity swells.

8) NPR 9:24 AM

When I was little my mom would listen to NPR in the car. For me, the dreaded 88.5 KQED was a source of great headache. I would complain, and ask for a channel change, wondering why anyone would want to listen to someone talk constantly while driving. To me it was droning, boring white noise that I couldn't quite follow. Think Teacher from Peanuts.

I can't remember exactly when I fell in love with NPR, but it was some time after I graduated from college. I had joined the work force, gotten out of the Westwood bubble, and was clocking a lot more time on the road. There are only so many times you can hear the same five hip-hop/R&B songs (currently: Bedrock by Young Money, Nothin' on You by B.o.B., Sexy Chick by David Guetta, Carry Out by Timbaland, and In My Head by Jason Derulo) on LA radio before you go searching for something else. Stereotypically, it's like realizing that the cool, popular jock in high school is still showing up to under-age townie parties in his 30's, and that the shy nerd full of random facts blossomed into a well-spoken, cultured member of society.

Now that I've grown into NPR, I can't live without it (as people often gush during the pledge drives). It turns my long commute into a news absorption hour that I wouldn't otherwise have. The familiar voices and jingles are like markers in my day. Hearing Steve Inskeep and his catalytic intonations is indicative of the morning drive to the office. After work, the silky baritone of Shay Stevens winds me down and gets me home.

Don't even get me started on their entertainment programming. Though I'm not consistently in the car on weekends, it's a treat when I catch parts of This American Life and Wait, Wait Don't Tell Me. Ira Glass has even managed to migrate from my radio to my iPod, as I hoard his weekly podcasts.

It may not have been love at first listen, but maybe it's a rite of passage. A you-know-you're-an-adult-when you come to appreciate NPR. Much to Mom's approval.

7) Tutorials 6:48 PM

If you search for "tutorial" on YouTube, 13,500 videos pop up. "How to" yields about 110,000 of them. Clearly, we are a culture that relishes in creating and watching instructional videos.

From the soothing murmurs of Bob Ross and his brushes, to twangy Paula Deen and her pats of butter, we have long been fans of the tutorial. On YouTube, tutorial topics range from Photoshop, changing a tire, and picking a lock, to drawing anime, flossing, and moon walking. From the pinnacles of techiness (see: How To Reverse Engineer a Satellite TV Smart Card) to the depths of social know-how (see: How to Flirt or How to Kiss with Passion) to the just plain random (see: How to shark a 'guess the number of M&Ms in a jar' contest). Practically anything you'd want to know how to do can be found online as a tutorial.

Though some people actually put how-to videos to use (i.e. the ones following along, dabbing when Bob says dab and blending when Bob says blend), others often find themselves watching just for the sake of watching. We are fascinated by the process itself, rather than the end result. A tutorial allows us to break down and dissect the steps, appreciating the details along the way. For example, Bob Ross often makes his viewers stop and admire the amount of paint he has loaded up on his brush.

And while many watch certain Food Network shows for the personalities of the hosts, the prevalence and popularity of amateur-made tutorial videos online speaks to the democratization of instruction. Tutorials produce a liberating do-it-yourself culture, where it's not necessary to take classes or seek professional help in order to learn something. It's sort of like The Matrix where acquiring a new skill is as easy as plugging in and downloading the information.

So the next time you're wondering how to do something, search for its tutorial on YouTube. There's a good chance you'll find someone who wanted to share that very same know-how, and made a handy video to do just that.

6) Jargon 6:50 PM

The other night I was telling Eric a story about my day, when he stopped me mid-sentence. "You're such an account person," he said, calling out my use of the word "topline" in my recounting of what I ate for breakfast (or something equally mundane). After almost two years of working in account management, it finally happened - the management jargon I unconsciously picked up was now invading my after hours speech.

For those unfamiliar with MBA-speak, here's a crash course. Managers don't just make phone calls. They jump on them as if they're grabbing that last seat on a roller coaster. It implies urgency, a spur-of-the-moment excitement to dial in to a conference call. And we don't simply use things to our advantage. We make like Archimedes and leverage them (usually assets). And you better hope that the deliverables coming down the pipe are buttoned up by EOD when we touch base with the client.

Where did this now overused and overvalued jargon come from? Can we ever pin point its origin? By definition, it takes a village to define lingo. Too bad - I'd love to give credit to the first person who realized that "we'll circle back" was a great way to end a conversation without actually committing to a course of action.

The irony of jargon is that while it provides a particular group its own technical terminology (i.e. we're all in the know because we collectively understand what these phrases mean), it also turns said group into a cliché. When it seeps into our non-professional conversations, we become defined by our jargon. When we hear, "You're such a [insert profession here]," we've been pigeonholed by our own words.

5) Speak with Conviction 7:26 PM

The most popular thing I've ever posted on nataliefoundit is this animated typography video of a Taylor Mali poem. If you haven't already watched, you owe it to yourself to do so before you keep reading. The day I posted it the number of page views reached an all-time high, and the passalong rate soared. Clearly, its message resonated.

Like many of us, I went through a phase in high school where "like"s and "um"s littered my speech. My mom claimed that I used to speak like Anne Marie from All Dogs Go To Heaven when I was younger, and was constantly challenging me to bring back my own articulateness. "Are you like exhausted, or are you exhausted?" she would ask. Eye rolling ensued...she knew what I meant.

But of course, she was right. We'd like to think that "um" and "like" are just mental stalls that give us time to formulate our thoughts and words. Instead, they become a crutch, a bad habit that make us sound like we have no idea what we're talking about. In a world that includes Carrie Prejean and Erik Lanksder, being aware of our own articulateness becomes that much more important.

But simply omitting the Valley girl speech patterns is not enough. If we cannot commit to our own words, how do we expect others to be swayed? By padding our speech with tempering phrases, we give ourselves an out so we can save face if we're wrong. But it comes with the high cost of diluted meaning and less impact.

Keep Mali's words in mind. We owe it to ourselves to make an effort to speak (and write!) with conviction.

4) Social Media 5-0 6:45 PM

As Facebook and Twitter continue to mushroom, sites have been created for the sole purpose of pointing out our social media missteps. Sites like Lamebook and Tweeting Too Hard broadcast the faux pas of our networking brethren (see also facebookfails and failbook). Unfortunate typos, too-much-info statuses, and the embarrassing interactions you could see coming when you accepted your grandma's friend request. These are all aggregated and put on public display to ridicule the egoists, the douchebags, the social misfits, and the just plain clueless.

Content on both sites is audience-submitted. A digital citizen's arrest, if you will. Aside from the entertainment factor, this makes for a powerful collection of shame that most people wouldn't otherwise see. Now that we advertise our thoughts on the web, they're able to be not only scrutinized, but also amassed and archived. Winston Smith is rolling over in his grave.

The effect of these social policing sites? Probably little to none on the offenders themselves. In a minuscule corner of the Internet, they've been made an example of, often without their knowledge. For the rest of us, these web 2.0 stocks might make us think twice about what we're sharing.

3) Desserts, East vs. West 7:36 PM

Last night Eric and I were treated to the a home-cooked meal at my aunt Hyun-Mi's house. We ate our way through a cheese and olive plate, fresh greens coated in tart vinaigrette, hot stone pizza, bubbly and crisp from the oven, and hearty fagioli soup. Just as everyone was insisting that they couldn't eat another bite, the final stage of the meal materialized.

Unexpectedly, dessert became a divisive subject. My uncle James had brought chiffon cakes from the highly regarded J.J Bakery in Arcadia. Velvet-soft and effortlessly airy, the spongy cakes ballooned out of individual cups. My contribution to the evening was two bags of Pepperidge Farm Mint Milanos. To round out the selection, my uncle David (Hyun-Mi's husband) produced a bar of dark chocolate studded with dried raspberries.

While everyone sampled a bit of everything, lines were drawn between people's preferred dessert. And surprisingly, the two sides were racially divided. Hyun-Mi and James, both Asian, said they would choose the chiffon cake over cookies and chocolate any day. The Caucasians at the table, Eric and David, had little interest in the chiffon cake, but made swift business of the Milanos and chocolate.

For the record, I myself am a member of the anything-with-chocolate dessert camp, so it's not to say that race predicts dessert preferences. But for something as universal as dessert (almost every country has the equivalent end to their meals), preferences were proving to be more complex than individual tastes. When you start to examine the types of sweets that originate from different races, distinct flavor trends emerge.

From the East we get sponge cakes, mochi, green tea and red bean ice cream, and Asian pears. Your last visit to a Chinese, Thai or Korean restaurant most likely ended with fortune cookies, perfectly cold and neatly sliced oranges, or sikhye, a rice drink. The understated sweetness is there only to compliment the subtle flavors and an element of freshness. Compare this to desserts of the West: German chocolate cake, tiramisu, eclairs, hot fudge sundaes, and truffles. And how many times have you seen the trifecta of New York cheesecake, creme brulee, and molten chocolate cake on a menu? Western desserts are rich, and oh-so-naughtily decadent.

One possible explanation for the disparate flavor profiles is that desserts are more than just the end of a meal. They also serve a purpose for each culture. Eastern desserts are palette cleansers, a throwback to the origin of the word (desservir from Old French, meaning "to clear away"). In a way, the subtle, understated flavors are a manifestation of Eastern values of modesty, and yin-yang balance. In the same vein, Western desserts can be seen as rewards to fuel a sense of carrot-driven individualism. I did something good today, I deserve a treat. The proverbial cherry on top.

2) Crunchy Leaf 8:30 AM

Those who've known me for awhile will be familiar with my Crunchy Leaf theory. It all started when I came across a Facebook group in college called, "I Will Go Slightly Out of My Way To Step On A Crunchy-Looking Leaf." Back then the group boasted an already robust 1 million or so fans. As of this morning, 2,028,107 leaf crunchers have raised their hands.

In the social media world this number may not impress compared to some other Fan pages. Coca-Cola stands at 5.3 million. Starbucks, the poster child of brands using Facebook, comes in at 6.8 million. And our social media embracing president has over 8 million fans. But these are mega-brands with dedicated teams who created and maintain these pages. Each has an agenda to recruit people into fandom, to communicate with their consumers, to better their brand perception, and ultimately to sell product.

I Will Go Slightly Out of My Way To Step On A Crunchy-Looking Leaf isn't backed by a company. Though there is nothing on the Info tab that indicates who actually started the page, one can wager that it was simply someone who realized that (s)he really enjoyed stepping on crunchy leaves - so much so that they'll go out of their way to do so. I bet they had little idea that so many other people felt the exact same way.

The Crunchy Leaf theory deals with these little revelations. There are these seemingly insignificant things that we do that we don't give much thought to. But when they come up in conversation (or a Facebook page), we immediately relate. We may not even realize that other people do it too - it may seem so diminutive that we write it off as an individual quirk. But really, they are insights, however small, that have an emotional, unifying effect on people when identified.

Comedians are no stranger to the power of a Crunchy Leaf. Think about really funny stand-up you've seen. It was probably so funny because it was so true. Aziz Ansari has a great sketch about Cold Stone Creamery and their sing-for-a-tip policy (language NSFW). Jim Gaffigan's long-winded bit on cake rings true. At its core, it's funny because the audience can relate - they too have experienced the painful serenade at Cold Stone. They may not have recognized the hilarity of the situation at the time, but when a comedian points it out in a sketch, it's that much funnier.

How does one identify a Crunchy Leaf? The closest thing I've seen is a site called 1000 Awesome Things. But even then, most of their entries don't quite qualify. Most of their list deals with things that are obviously awesome, like #771 Waking up before your alarm clock and realizing you’ve got lots of sleep time left, or #734 When the free bread they bring you at the restaurant is warm, or #910 When you arrive at your destination just as a great song ends on the radio. Crunchy Leaves are a bit more subtle - it's not immediately (or ever) apparent what the appeal is (if there even is an appeal). For example, a few from 1000 Awesome Things that come close are #837 Pushing those little buttons on the soft drink cup lid, #654 Peeling that thin plastic film off new electronics, and #933 The first scoop out of a jar of peanut butter. A couple that I've come up with are that awkward dance that occurs when you pass someone in a narrow hall (the perfectly in sync back and forth shuffle as you keep getting in each other's way), and phantom phone syndrome (when you swear that your cell was just vibrating/ringing in your pocket/bag but it wasn't).

Identifying Crunchy Leaves is a matter of research. They need to be tested, put out to the masses to see how many people can relate. A weak Crunchy Leaf may indeed just be a personal eccentricity. But a strong one has the power to unite, and the potential to be leveraged.

In the time it took to write this, I Will Go Slightly Out of My Way To Step On A Crunchy-Looking Leaf gained 217 more fans.

Can you think of any Crunchy Leaves?

1) The Importance of the "Before" 9:43 AM

Compared to the average American woman, I'm a late bloomer when it comes to concealer. It was only a few months ago when I realized that a little well-placed concealer can do wonders. Ancient, yet never-seems-to-completely-fade acne scars? Invisible. Shaded circles under the eyes? Gone.

But like many good things in life, concealer comes with a small price. For those unfamiliar with the ritual, to apply concealer you dab a bit of it over the areas you want to cover before blending it in with a brush or your fingers. Seems tame enough.

However, in between your last dab and your first blend, there are two seconds where all your flaws have been highlighted. Your face is spotted with beige flags that resemble a modern woman's war paint. To achieve cosmetic perfection, we are forced to first acknowledge our imperfections.

This can be harmless enough when primping alone, but there's a split second sense of vulnerability that comes when having to do so in front of other women, or in the presence of a significant other. And what if the stakes were raised? A plastic surgery hopeful standing in front of a mirror as the doctor marks up her body with a Sharpie is unlikely to be at peak confidence. Ironically, that moment is part of the means to a confident end.

It's the importance of the "Before" picture in those makeover pieces in Cosmo and Teen Vogue, in a Proactiv commercial, or in any weight loss infomercial. The wow factor of the transformation would be lost if the dismal starting point was omitted.

This applies to fields outside of cosmetics, albeit more subtly. Asking for directions is admitting you don't quite know where you are. Getting a tutor acknowledges a weakness in that particular subject. Seeing a psychiatrist recognizes that you have issues you have to talk through. Overhauling the health care system is a nod to the fact that it was previously broken. (Starting a strategic thinking and writing blog...)

Rehab programs tell us that acceptance is the first step. In life this acceptance, however (in)significant, may be akin to hanging a sometimes painful "needs improvement" sign. But it's also a necessity in bettering ourselves. If we have no "Before," we lack the starting point, and often more importantly, the motivation to move forward.

The Very Beginning 10:07 PM

First, a warning: despite the URL, this is not a dieting blog.

For those who are still reading, welcome to The Plan, a year-long exercise in strategic thinking and prolific writing. One post every day for 365 days.

My name is Natalie, and I want to be a strategic planner.

Among other things, a great planner is curious, able to think critically and orchestrate her thoughts into a coherent nuggets of truth. In order to hone these skills, I'm committing to 365 days of observations and interpretations of current culture. Topics will range, arising organically from things encountered day to day.

This will undoubtedly be a learning process. More than anything, it's a challenge to myself to open my eyes and ears, to take in as much as possible, to think deeply, and to write daily.

So, here goes. Taking a deep breath and jumping right in.

Thanks for joining me.