December 2001 Archive

12/28/01

Oh. My. Gawd.
We’re. Going. To. Die. Impaled. On. Hockey Sticks.

So here we are in Vancouver. Amazing that myself, Bertie, Jesse, and roommate Pot Pie made it here in one piece. The first leg of our trip was mostly with lots of stuttering stops. This was all in attempts to get out of fricking bay area traffic, and then for Arbys, and finally, to master our tunes for the remainder of the trip. A brief stopover in Best Buy for a $10 gadget widget which allows Bertie’s discman to transmit psychic grooves to my speakers. I dunno how it works, but it was cheap, and I had my Ska Punk mixes carrying me through the first large leg of the drive.

Not quite sure if we could make it all the way through to Seattle or stop over in Portland, we pushed forward. Jesse & Pot Pie driving graveyard shift. Mike, aka LeBastard was our gracious host that greeted us at something like 5:30 AM. And yes, Bertie & I both slept in Mike’s bed. It was *hot*.

PotPie slept with a kitty on his chest. Unfortunately, that’s the type of kitty that meows. Though I imagine that it, too, smelled a little like tuna. I’m sure no one is surprised that Mike lives in a house totally overflowing with Pussy. Cats.

(pardon & apologies ~ Roadtrips and being in a car too long with the same people, drinking too many redbulls leads to incredibly inapropriate and crass jokes. I’ll be my kind & civil self soon. Promise. Maybe)

Dim. Sum. Rocks. My,. Socks.
Mike brought our starving crew to a little Chinese place about 20 minutes before they shut down the Dim Sum service. This, of course, meant that all the wait staff was pushing all their dishes on us within 30 seconds of sitting down at the table. Myself, being famished, had no complaints. No waiting around at all and the food was quite tasty & satisfying. Gai Lan, Shiu Mai, etc etc.

After getting back on the road, we crossed the Canadian border and immediately started craving “Two-Fours” and the desire to see mounties. We arrived at Ritchie’s home and were greeted by his Mom, Mrs. Macapinlac greeted us at the door in a cute little house dress. Obviously she hasn’t seen video footage of me chucking tampons during SXSW or Bertie & I enacting fake lesbo sex.

And then off to Boston Pizza. WTF. Pizza is not what Boston is known for, folks. Hello, clue to the Canadians. Boston is known for a few choice things. #1 – The Boston Symphony Orchestra. #2 – Roast Chicken. #3 – Beer. and #4 – Schooling assholes. (Kidding Bertie). #5 – People that drive like *ASS*. (Not Kidding). Ritchie talked me into the decadent tortolini alfredo with baked cheese. I was a happy pooting gal last night with a very full tummy.

We later speculated on the notion of renting a movie, watching anime, or pimping off PotPie but opted instead to make fun of Kit Kats & taking obnoxious pictures inside of Roger’s Video. This is what happens when Americans come to your border. They start picking fights with locals carrying hockey sticks and moose heads, eh?

We’re here for 5 more days.
Be very afraid.

Min Jung Canuckie

12/25/01

Why a merry merry xmas to you too. I bet you thought I wouldn’t make it.
Hell, I didn’t think I would.

Xmas is supposed to be all happy & cheerful, right?
< ----
At the end of the season, it’s really like this.
—>
But you know what? THIS IS THE BEST CHRISTMAS EVER!

And not only because I’m done with Santa Pimping.
And not only because I’ve survived the season in spite of drug addict elves, cranky elves, raver elves and 16 year old hot bisexual elves and bitchy parents and snotty crying kids without either stabbing someone in the neck or performing sepuku on myself with a candycane.
And not only because I got to see some totally hot bloggers perform in drag for a stellar holiday revue in the company of other very cool blogger people. And not only cuz a hot lesbian was snoring in my bed this morning. Or an impending insane road trip is ahead of all of us.
And not because my Dad wished me merry christmas, thanks for the parking ticket (remember dave?) And not because I’ve gotten flowers and a huge lovely gift of spilling lentils from someone very kind to me.

But because.
Because it’s Xmas 2001 and in a year that’s been insane, and turbulent, challenging, stressful, and frenetic, it’s still something pretty special if you are still able to feel a little bit of Christmas in spite of all that.

Wishing you some seriously spiked eggnog.

Min Jung

PS
Not forgetting the reason for the season, inspite of your belief system or not, I wish you peace, love, and joy.

Or like my friend Ze Photagrapher put it
“Dear All (especially my West Coast Attorney friends)

Please accept with no obligation, implied or implicit, my best wishes for an environmentally conscious, socially responsible, low stress, non-addictive, gender neutral, celebration of the winter solstice holiday, practiced within the most enjoyable traditions of the religious persuasion of your choice, or secular practices of your choice, with respect for the religious/secular persuasions and/or traditions of others, or their choice not to practice religious or secular traditions at all; and a fiscally successful, personally fulfilling, and medically uncomplicated recognition of the onset of the generally accepted calendar year 2002, but not without due respect for the calendars of choice of other cultures, and without regard to the race, creed, color, age, physical ability, religious faith, sexual preferences, of the wishees.

12/20/01
A decidedly better day.

Quick highlights
* Relativley painfree day at work
* Shopping for purple frillies at the Gap
* Visit from Glenda & lovely holiday soap of peppermint!
* Lunch with Paris
* Tea with a new friend
* Dinner with an old friend (who happens to be Korean, Catholic, 5’10 and a doctor to boot. But we’re just friends…it’s just reasurring to know that they exist out there… )
* Singing “Just a Gigalo” with church friends a la Karaoke
* New CDR drive to install. Woot! Thanks potpie!

Am totally refreshed in spirit now and will no longer be planning candycane murders.

Special highlight from dinner?
My friend laughing so hard he throws his head back during dinner and gets his head knocked into a wine bottle being carried by the cute waitress. Me laughing so hard at this that I spit water out on my friend’s shirt.

Both of us conclude we’re about as smooth as a chapped rhino butt in January.

Min Jung
Days till Santa Pimping is Over – 4
Days to Xmas – 5

12/19/01
Damn it all to hell.
Can I please have one fricking normal day? Please, God? Please with sugar dumplings & butter cookies with chocolate frosting?

So last night, er, early this morning I’m up in a chat room with the vancouver entourage trying to coordinate the maddening logistics of traveling with a group of 11, who’s staying where, when they’re arriving, departing, and loose time lines. Of course this is interrupted by amusing, though insanely distracting, non-sequiter comments. Even those by yours trully.

mjkim1974: (ok, complete non sequiter) Some freak just emailed me asking for permission to write to me about my feet in an erotic fashion. Brilliant. My freaks are now polite.

By the way, I just realized that the chat transcripts make me really hungry now.
After all there was turkeydinner, my housemate Jon aka potpie, and superkimchee. (along with everyone else delish)

After an hour of completely irresponsible chat, I started freaking out, demanded that everyone email me their details, and then put together a spreadsheet in about a half hour. *Breath, breath, breath*

Santa Pimping Story Dujour for 12/18/01
7:45 PM
Dad Customer “Wow, you guys are so great. Cheerful even after working all day with the kids”
Moi: “Thanks sir”
Dad Customer “So how on earth do you manage?”
Moi: “That would be the drugs.”
Dad Customer

*I* was joking.

Then today.
The morning went relatively smoothly between set up, the first 100 or so customers, and then recieiving a call from a photographer that said he’d be down to see me in about 20 minutes. This is in relation to recent news that I’m going to be some little story re: how 2001 has changed some individual lives dramatically. Yeah, that’d be me. Going from dot.com yuppy chick to freelance writer/ santa pimping with a stop in between, with dominican nuns in paris on 9/11.

Great, I don’t have any lipstick nearby, my nose is dripping from being out in the cold all afternoon, and I’ve gotten little sleep. A real beyoooot I’m feeling. I guess it’s supposed to run in the Oakland Tribune sometime this week or weekend. Yeah, more fame ho-ing.

Then at 2 the girlfriend of one of my elves comes by to let me know that he won’t be in at work.
“Why?”
“Oh, he’s in Police custody. When we got evicted from our apartment, somehow the police came and searched the place and have charged him with posession of drug paraphernalia.”
“Um. Ok.”

And like a child learning her alphabet, I was educated on the signs of a “tweaker”, backtracked through my memory of curious circumstances, signs, and symptoms.

I swear, I’m such a naive little midwest girl sometimes. Prompt replacement elf was duly called in.

And *THEN* one of my other elves gives me grief because I’m actually making her work during her shift. She’s lousy with managing cash and is either consistantly slow, or sloppy with money in the register, which often leads to gross discrepencies on daily close out. *OR* she’s slow on the camera, and zones out when it comes to greeting new families. So she’s a runner. Simple duty, runs order forms to parents and photos after they print out. Even this she slacks on, standing there, zoning out, and forcing me to constantly remind her to take items to their appropriate owner. And then she goes on break. After break she wants to be on register. We argue and she tells me “I HOPE you’re not working on **** when I am”. And then blows off the next 3 customer orders. Moi “So are you now not even going to do your job?” Her : “I *AM* doing my job.” “Not when the register girl has to come over and get the photos from you.” She glowers at me for the remainder of her shift. Bloody brilliant.

And so it’s a long ass fricking wacked out cranky day.
So, yeah. Crack heads and cranky elves.
Way to go Holiday Spirit. Way to go.

It’s pretty bad when I’m no longer counting down to X-mas but really just counting down the days I’ll be done with this fucked up Santa pimping gig. I am *this* close to stabbing someone in the neck with a candycane right now.

Days till Santa Pimping is Over – 5
Days to Xmas – 6

12/16/01
Spoiled Right

Alicia Keys – A Woman’s Worth
You could buy me diamonds
You could buy me pearls
Take me on a cruise around the world
Baby you know I’m worth it
Dinner lit by candle
Run my bubble bath
Make love tenderly to last, to last
Cause baby you know I’m worth it

Last night I got spoiled right by a good friend, and current international man of mystery.It’s been a bit too long since I’ve been spoiled so well and though my daily life has been spartan, I haven’t forgotten how to enjoy certain decadent elements.

I picked up cola boy around 7 last night. Cola boy is the same friend who nearly died after rocking over a vending machine which left him with the semipermanent imprint “Danger, Do Not Tip” indented on his forhead after highschool shenanigans. He’s also the one, some may remember, who hijacked an icecream truck when he was 9 and now works in the state department. As this is the last opportunity I may see the gentleman for the next 2 years as he will be stationed in Asia, I would gladly move the mountains to rendezvous with the knucklehead.

His first words to me after “Hello, you look gorgeous, I miss you *muah muah*” were “Hey, there’s a nice hottub at the hotel. You wanna? After dinner?”

Moi: “For shits & giggles, hell yes.”
Cola: “You have a suit?”
Moi: “Nope.”
Cola: “Let’s go get you one.”

20 minutes later I had a periwinkle bikini in my hand as we headed off to dinner.After arriving at PoshPlace we were told that without reservations, our wait would be 45 minutes or more.

Walking into the lounge we were immediately greeted by the hostess who told us “Actually, a table for two is available right now. I called this couple’s name 5 times. Here you go.” Chilling like villains and right next to a swanky cool jazz trio. They played the Peanuts version of “It’s Christmas time, Christmas time” for us.

Splitting a bottle of wine, cheeses, good conversation and trash talk, Cola said to me “Girl, I missed you, and I love seeing you here. This is your natural environment. Sipping wine, evoking elegance, and looking good.”

Moi: “Ummm hmmm no, I fake pretty well, my natural environment is really worn sweats, fuzzy red sox, thick glasses, and a keyboard.”
Cola: “Yah, whatever.”

I ate a cut of prime rib that was the size of my head. No really, actually maybe a little bigger than that. Incredibly tasty with a dollop of real horseradish…not just the creamy stuff. Cola had the pepper steak which he called divine. Our gargantuan cow consumption was followed by Dows 20 year tawny port, and a creme brulle which we split. I, like Amelie, adore the sound of that first crack in the shell of creme brulle. Any dessert that requires a blow torch is automatically cool in my book. One, two, *CRACK*. Delight, oh my nose, ears, and tongue.

Then it was off to hottubbing.
With my brand new periwinkle bikini, my pot belly from obscenely decadent consumption hopped into the tub and cooked for a few minutes. It was a delight and the jetstreams against my lower back were absolutely saucy. I hadn’t been in a hot tub in months and now I wonder why I haven’t made more friends with people who own hot tubs. Shame on me.

After long, delightful hugs from Cola, I departed for home, satiated from my forray into the “good life” and ok with the fact that I’ll be shlepping at the mall again the next day. Wait, did I forget to mention the massages? Those were awful nice too.

After sharing my Saturday evening with coworkers, I received the following reaction.

From Paris “Man, you are *Never* *EVER* allowed to bitch about your social life ever again. People don’t buy *me* bikinis. It just sucks to be a poor white man.”

From Ali: “Wow…so did you have sex with him?”
Moi: “No, he’s married! We’re friends”
Ali: “So wait, you didn’t suck on anything?”
Moi: “Ali, please, don’t use such language in front of parents and their children “

So yeah, wined, dined, and hot tub blind but no other coochie deal nor drama. Cola is a happily married international man of mystery and we’ve been friends for too long to have sexual tension drama. We’re just uber-cool like that.

Santa Pimping Story Dujour
Harley Davidson Dad with hat, leather vest, dirty shirt, and boots brings similarly dressed 4 year old up to the front of the line. Awww, how cute! Kiddie Harley!

“Ma’m, Here’s $5. I just want to take my own pictures if you don’t mind”
“Sir, that’s fine, and free if you like. You don’t need to give me $5 for that.”
“Nah ma’m, you all work hard. Consider it a donation.”

His son’s name is “Bear.”
As his “Bear”‘s turn comes up to go and visit Santa, like most 4 year olds, Bear halts, hesitates, and turns back down the ramp ready to burst into tears. Harley Davidson Dad promptly grabs his arm and swings him, actually, volleys him into Santa’s lap a good 4 feet away. Hmmm, same technique as common in free lance midget tossing from what I’ve been told.
Bear starts bawling in terror at Santa. Dad clicks away. I buy myself a hot chocolate with his donation.
And all is oddly right with the world.

Santa Pimping Story Dujour #2
Santa’s hours were supposed to end at 6:00 tonight. At 6:20 Santa is completing visits with the last few families still in line before being blockaded by security. Gasping frantically at 6:21, a family of 4 come rushing at me to beg that they be allowed to come and take photos.
“Sorry sir, the line is closed. We’re already over schedule.”
“But we thought it was open until 7.”
“Here’s a schedule so you won’t have this issue in the future”
“So like… a 5, um… $20 couldn’t change your decision?”
“Sir, have you ever had a cranky Santa Claus yell at you?”
“… No…”
“Don’t. Make. Me.”

My latest catch-all phrase for rude people during the xmas/ madness?
“Way to go, holiday spirit. Way to go.”

Min Jung

12/14/01
Current Mood:
Cranky

Listening to:
Duncan Sheik – You Embraceable You

Currently Doing:
Multitasking 3 chat windows while whitening my teeth

Santa Pimping Story Du Jour
Snotty Mom is chatting with her friends as children perform olympic style uneven bar manoevers without her supervision nor with her noticing the *3* signs that request that children don’t play on the Santa set.

“Boys, please don’t climb on the set
“Boys, please don’t climb on the set.
“Gentlemen, this isnt’ a jungle gym, please don’t climb on the set.
“Madam, I’ve already lost three gumdrops from the set structure, could you please make sure your children aren’t climbing on the set? “

“*I’ll* take care of this. I won’t have you yelling at my children like that.”
Why thank you ma’m. How terribly rude of me.

(Child promptly climbs back on set and performs a triple backflip with a 3/4 turn rotation dismount)

Bloody Brilliant. I’ve lost Santa Set gumdrops in addition to my sanity.

In other news.
In chat conversation with Davezilla
Mjkim1974: i thought you were 32 or sumping like that
itsdavezilla:
Mjkim1974: honest asian!
itsdavezilla: honest asian. wow. you so funny!
Mjkim1974: better than saying honest injun eh? that’s another pure minjungism
itsdavezilla: I just typed honest asian into google and got 192.000 hits
Mjkim1974: get outta here!
itsdavezilla: this is all “honest asian mail order bride”
itsdavezilla: they even have discount brides. for the cost-conscious groom
Mjkim1974: on sale at walmart — going fast for the holidays
itsdavezilla: 50% Off (you don’t get the legs)
Mjkim1974: but asian chicks have hot legs in dem chung sams
Mjkim1974: you get 10% off already for smaller eyes.
itsdavezilla: what about the eyelids though? how do they price that?
itsdavezilla: cause all the japanese girls are into tucking now
itsdavezilla: which i think is preposterous. “I’ve got an idea! Let’s ruin the prettiest ethnic feature we have!” “OK!”
Mjkim1974: don’t get me started
Mjkim1974: my mom wanted me to get that done
itsdavezilla: =-O
Mjkim1974: it’s huge in korea and among my college friends, lots got it done
itsdavezilla: don’t you dare.
Mjkim1974: you get it done in korea where the plastic surgeons have years of experience
itsdavezilla: asian eyes are so sexy!
itsdavezilla: but still… why?
Mjkim1974: seeing what non-elective surgery did to my mom, hell no would i volunteer to go under the knife
Mjkim1974: for what? whatevs. my eyes are fine
itsdavezilla: that’s as weird as Michael Jackson bleaching his skin
itsdavezilla: I know. Whites and blacks envy the shape of Asian eyes. Why would anyone ever want to look like our bug-eyed faces?
itsdavezilla: we look like cartoons

Dude, have you *seen* anime?

Back in 1984 my mother offered to take me back to Korea with her so that I could get surgery done on my eyes. Mind you, she was asking a mousy, insecure, bookish clumsy, weed of a girl if she’d like to get her eyes tucked as a way to improve my esthetics but won’t take her to the mall to buy any neon colored socks so that her daughter could look like Alyssa Milano during her “Who’s The Boss” days.
Plane ticket ~$2000. Surgery $~2000. Socks ~$12 for 4 pair. Go figure.

I declined, telling mom that no freak is coming at my eyes with a scalpel. I’m rather glad. In college I had a friend, Korean gal of course, who’d gone to Korea over summer break to get her eyes done. Her eyes now have assymetrical folds making her look just a little bit like a cute young version of Egg Shen from Big Trouble in Little China. Now *that’s* dead sexy. Um, yeah.

My only issue with my eyes these days are the following:
#1 – how blind I am without my contacts
#2 – getting a better handle on the use of liquid eyeliner
#3 – why most beauty magazines in 2001 STILL don’t have enough appropriate advice on where the *FUCK* i’m supposed to put eyeshadow when I have no “fold” or “crease” to apply “shadow” or “highlight”

At least now, there is a resource for numnuts like myself with out folded, creased, origami eyelids. I perused this book other day over lunch. Some useful tips & tricks, and helpful notions for those of us that don’t look like chick Ranma. Tried my best to ignore the fact that Lisa Ling was in it though and wished they had some pix of Maggie Cheung, Gong Li, the girls from Finkle, or other Asian beauties in it rather than the handful that they did. Healthy number of hapa models in it, though.

Other things that make me feel goigeous these days
~ Custom Face lotion from Reflect.com which I call “MJ’s Diva Juice”
~ Blue Mascara from Sephora.com
~ Accidental good hair days. And considerng how lazy I am with a blowdryer or hair products, it really is accidental.

Now, I suddenly feel like Clara.

MJ

12/12/01

Current Mood:
Exhausted but satisfied

Listening to:
Etta James “I’ll Be Seeing You”

Currently Doing:
Seated swaying & typing

Found Treasure
Have recovered one copy of Steve Young on Santa’s lap, a roll of stamps I hadn’t realized I had misplaced, and a fresh pack of mints. Woot!

Other relics include my highschool copy of Strunk & White’s the Elements of Style and my UM English Departement booklet titled “What Can I Do With A Degree In English”. One of these items is worth platinum. The other is worth wiping my ass with. Take a guess which is which.

Santa Pimping Story Du Jour
Well, not so much a story as some observations on bad holiday behavior:

Why on earth would a mother feel justified to leave her screeching, bawling, terrified two year old on the lap of a big fat hairy stranger in a red suit for 10 tremendously excrutiating minutes while changing film, bullying her husband, and treating my staff and myself like twits because *we* seem incapable of capturing a shot of her darling angel inspite of our 15 previous attempts as a restless crowd of 40 other families try to quell the increasingly anxious toddlers in their hands? And then coming back 2 minutes later to *RETAKE* the photos (after seeing her around the corner swatting her child’s hand). If you can give me an answer, I’ll give you a candycane.
Way to go holiday spirit.

Yesterday’s Santa Pimping Story Du Jour
The Damn Frick’s Brother to me at 9:42 AM
“Excuse me, are you Kristi Yamaguchi”
“Excuse me, do you think I’d be working at the mall if I were?”
“Oh, sorry, just, thought, you looked… an awful lot like her.”


Um yeah.

2 visiting grandmothers from Joi-zee
“Aww. Mai. Gawd. You are de most goigeous elf Ai’ve evah seen”
“Um, thanks.”
“Ya know, ya should really do some mawdeling or sumpthing”
“Ya know, that’s much better than being told I look like Kristi Yamaguchi this morning.”

Santas+Sexy+Helper = Min Jung
Don’t believe me? My 110201 and google says so.
Look Here.

Peace Out yo,

MJ

12/09/01
I must be losing my mind
But really, I think it must be somewhere in my room under the rubble of old journals, magazines never read, and nailpolish bottles.

Items lost/MIA in the past week:
3 photos of Steve Young sitting on Santa’s Lap
1 handsfree set for nearly brand spanking new Nokia phone
1 Photoshop 6.0 Installation CD (admittably, a hacked copy)
Innumerable unmatched socks

Today’s To Do List
Clean Room
Locate lost items
Toss all now empty hotel mini bottles of soap, shampoo, lotion, etc.
Paint Toes
Write January piece for ii stix
Update my linkslist
Bring back up my journal archives
Return clothes to a friend
Send off long due book to Yvonne
Clean up my xmas wishlist
Upload/fix best friend’s wedding pix from Thanksgiving
Compile collections of Poetica Spontenaums and see which are worthy of revision & polishing
Balance checkbook
Do 60 crunches
Contact my editor
Respond to emails
Sort out new years plans in vancouver
Send thank you notes
Look for work
Buy a clue
Get a life

Of course the only thing I’ll probably get done tonight is just painting my toes.Bleah. Typical.

Poetica Spontenaum
Your last words to me
Dribble down from my ears
And I find myself more raw
Than last week’s steak

Staring at your back with
fists cutting clenched
If I needed you any more
My bones would break

Knowing that your back
Turned to me is kinder
Than your apologetic smile
Is barely the touch note of this ache

Min Jung

PS.
I know all my Poetica Spontenaums are either haiku drivvel or really vitreous rhyme that barely has any relevance to my current state of mind. Keep that in check when you read, yo. It’s just an exercise for me to keep up with a really condensed writing style and being able to pull up emotions and try to evoke them again.

12/05/01

< ...>
There’s a lot of items on my mind these days…Though on the outside I often appear organized, possibly compulsive – with alphabetized spice racks, mostly my brain is really just a bag of marbles that are jostling against each other and creating that lovely little clicking & scraping sound that bright glass does.

Invasion? Why yes, we are indeed invading:It’s true. Bertie, myself, and my roommate/potpie Jon, Belinda, Ernie, Paris, David, Ted, and Ank are heading up to visit the Ritchie for new years. How this trip spiraled out of control so that everyone and his mother decided to go?
Beats me. Must be that Canadian charm, eh?

Are *you* in vancouver or are you going to be during the holidays? Email me.

He’s Baaaaaaack
Weeeeeeeeeee!
Skinny Panda is back. About damn time, yo.

Santa Pimping Story du Jour
So guess who came by yesterday to have his kid come and take a pix with Santa?
Go ahead, guess.

Nope.
Try again.

Nope.

Give up?

Ok.
Former San Francisco 49er quarterback Steve Young. Yeah. And guess who’s got a picture of him sitting on Santa’s knee.
Personal impressions? Seemed polite enough. And to quote that terrible Patrick Swayze movie, Roadhouse “I thought he’d be taller.”

12/03/01
Purple Nail Polish & Folk Rock
Some time ago I was running a tradeshow in Baltimore where I became good friends with the nearly ulcerfied marketing manager running the exhibit for his own company. We commisserated our woes and our stress regarding setting up our booths, lazy union staff, and the excessive quantity of denim logo’ed shirts amidst the exhibitors. That and the strippers posing as sales staff 3 rows down.

Regardless, I have that dear chap to thank for introducing me to a sweet little cd by Cry Cry Cry featuring Dar Williams, Lucy Kaplansky, and Richard Shindell. It’s a lovely emerald gem. And normally I’d pass a disparagng remark about folk singers and their irresponsible aversion to modern hair products but this CD is still on my favorites rotation when I need to remember a little quiet tenderness.

The Kid
I’m the kid who
thought we’d someday be lovers
Always held out
that time would tell
Time was talking
I guess I just wasn’t listening
No surprise
if you know me well
And as we’re walking
toward the train station
there’s a whispering rainfall
Across the boulevard you slip
your hand in mine
In the distance the train calls…

I Know What Kind Of Love This Is
I know what kind of love this is
After all, I was there when we made it
And I know why I did what I did
To end a liftime of wallfower shade…

Pass the damn granola.

Self Archeology Discovery
A ridiculous set of song lyrics writtin about frogs, frogs legs, and being green. Written in 1982. Fascinating.What’s worse is that I can recall the tune that it should be chanted to.

That and nailpolish smears in purple dating back to 1991. Which of course inspired me to paint my nails this evening. Shimmery cuteness.

And in other news.
At the existing pricepoint, do I really give a shIT??
Note to self: Go to bed earlier.

Min Jung