Grrr.
11/14/01
Nice to know that some people still pay attention to my rants.
One reader wrote in
did you know that 10 02 2001 was the first palindromic date we had in a long time? the last one before that was X-mas [er, new years actually], 1321 (12 31 1321).
after that, we only have
01 02 2010
11 02 2011
12 02 2021
01 12 2110
10 12 2110
11 12 2111
12 12 2121
and then we have to wait another millenium before more palindromic dates.
Richard even notes that my last entry had less to do with mathematics itself as it did numerology. I stand corrected.
See how much Forintos fried my brains?
Have you listened to Our Lady Peace’s song “Julia”.Sometimes I forget that Julia was one my previous incarnations.Yes, my baptismal name was Julia. My father says my name with a charmingly thick accent that makes the “L” sound more like a hard “R” that rolls around in bed with “D” so that he calls out to me “Jhoodiyah”.
He’s among the last people I knwo who remember under that incarnation.I’m only 27 but I’ve already gone through several incarnations, it seems.
When I was born, I was named something. Pops had me change my name before I was even 100 days old. He paid money to a local shaman woman to create for me a luckier name. Trully luckier? Beats me.
At 3 I was baptized in a church called St. Agatha’s outside of Detroit. And Julia was the name given to me. A virgin saint. Stop laughing. I remember the huge pool & fountain, green with moss and stained by the benedictions of generations of pigeons that was in the front of the church and being terrified of being pushed, tripped, or chucked into the murkey depths by my brother.
The baptism certificate, aged and crisp in my photo album, lists my parents as Agatha Kang Kim and Ambrosius Kim.
These are names by which I never knew my parents. While growing up, they were referred to by their friends as my Maikuh’s (my brother Michael)parents or Jhoodiya’s parents. Dad went by Kim to his neighbors and co-workers. I’ve never in my 27 years heard my dad introduce himself with a British accent as Ambrosius though I think I’d pay money to see that. Portending a future of iminent divadom, I was baptized with my sunglasses on. I’m not kidding.
Ah, ok, perhaps my memory is faulty, but I’m pretty sure I remember having my shades when being carried up to the fountain and when taking photos outside. See? Proof.
Sassy kid, wasn’t I?
Some things don’t change. *Shrug*.
I went by Julia for most of my academia and tried not to think too much about the junior economics teacher who insisted that my name was Kimberly and was frustrated because I would glare at her, not answering to that name. Yeah, not only did this woman consider me and my parents morons who couldn’t fill out last name first papers correctly, but actually made some comment about how “those koreans really do such a good job with the dry cleaning.” Yeah.
Half way through my senior year in high school, in another act of teen angst identity confusion, I went back to my ethnic name Min Jung. This started to confuse my high school friends, my brother’s friends, and my teachers who decided that they would refrain from calling on me for the rest of the term lest they offend. (Except for Mr. Eshleman, my AP Bio teacher who decided to use me as an example in genetics… like.. what are the odds that I’ll have an AB+ blood type kid if I married Ho Chi Minh and he was B+. Gawd I wish I were kidding. Oy the shit I put up with. No wonder I’m such an angrly little asian girl right now. ~ btw, props always to Lela of ALAG.).
My brother was never confused, and to this day refers to me as Jules. (Nah, he’s not a whitey sell out or anything, he’s just stubborn and has always gone by Mike or Michael. His Korean name Kun Soo lead too way too many jokes in the 80s with the Gin Su knife infomercials which plagued our midwest dumb-box channels).
Min Jung as a name confused everyone. Not only in it’s deceptively simple pronunciation (I’ve been called everything from Min, Minny, Min Yung, Meen Joong, Mean Joe Green, etc) but that I wasn’t a FOB, didn’t speak Korean, and yet had a decidedly ethnic name. Go figure.
And still even today, I’ve confused as many people as I’ve been confused myself. Fair is fair, right? These days I’m reincarnated as MJ. That’s cool. I like being placed on the same nom’ boat as Michael Jackson, Michael Jordan, and Mah Johng.
Personally, I love this picture of me on our left here. The original dress is currently hung up on my bedroom wall. Yes I still have it. Of course I do.
So really, what’s in a name?
That a gal should still smell like Kimchi.
Poetica Spontenaum 11/14/01
If you and I
were paper
I would fold
you into me
when I was willing to love you
and I
into you
when you used to believe that I couldn’t.
and the times that we laughed
would crease over
the times that I scratched you
and tear over the times you were silent to me
except in your breath and pulse against my cheek.
If you and I
were paper
We would not be taped
back to back
without form
without vulgar emotions
scribbled on our backs
like
absentminded tatoos
love carved on one side with a thumbnail
and hate scarred on another with tooth
so biased
and only sheet thin away from the other
if you and I
were paper
would we weave into each other
in precise angles
and folds
that
bloom into
radiating stars
outwards and upwards
without
beginning
or end
or would
we find ourselves
a pair of wishful cranes
side by side
until crumpled
by a fist.
In Other News
Holy Fricking Crow!
Over 130 people are RSVPed for this upcoming saturday’s party. I’m beginnign to get psyched and really nervous regarding capacity, noise, sufficient alcohol, and etc. Am I going to be stuck stirring up batch after batch of lemon soju? Will I get to actually flirt with anyone new? Oh, I’m sure I’ll pull through in Min Jung ultra fabulous mode, but really…if i could be any * more * fabulous, wouldn’t I have to be a gay man? Am very much looking forward to meeting the tons in attendance.
We may have live/at party blogging rolling out if my dsl stops farting & burping. I swear, my dsl line is behaving like my butt after a tub of haagendazs
Keep them stories on Ernie coming in. I’ve gotten some doozies. =D
Wooot!
I feel like being girly.
I just spent a half hour on Reflect.com customizing some MJ Diva Juice moisterizers and eyecreams because I have to re-order some foundation from them soon. But then I realized that I have an obscene number of lotions already (Over a dozen little bottles of Carita Lait Por Le Corps…lifted from hotels in Europe) and a girl really shouldn’t spend $35 on moisturizer when she’s late on her cel phone payments. Even though I’m worth it, damn it.
(VERY INSIDE JOKE WHICH WILL NOT MAKE SENSE TO MANY OF YOU SO DON”T TAKE IT PERSONALLY)
And Kevin, Sorry for venting tonight earlier while meandering through the romantically asbestos sprinkling frozen food aisle of the ghetto rockridge safeway with rats earlier tonight. I don’t hate you because you’re a white guy. I hate you because you’re a white guy that stole all my good luck. Goodness, after SXSW, neither Ernie, myself, nor Bertie have held stable happy jobs. Ritchie was immune cuz he’s either got flilipino mojo from eating all that balut or because he’s canadian..I hate you because you steal our luck by making a pact with the Devil and sealing it with a lightning storm. You bastard. Just kidding kissy kiss kiss. (punch) Wish you were coming to Ernie’s shindig but it *was* really good catching up with you tonight. You’re just way way way much funnier in person than your blog would ever reveal You still owe me sushi though. (Aren’t I a stinker of a grudge keeping Korean chick?)
Min Jung
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