MinJungKim.com

Every day this week I’ve watched a sappy movie and teared up.
And I love it.
And I’m not going to apologize to anyone about it.

Hi, I’m Min Jung.
I’m a cheeseball and I cry at movies.

This Friday I am going to Toronto and will be there until Tuesday.

I’m planning on hanging with Rannie and Christine and whoever else is around.
Will you be around?

Ping me.

That I have enough friends and enough leftovers to last a lifetime.

Yes I’ve been quiet here on the blog of late.
Can you dig this, my website is blocked from work.
This means no blogging or ability to check email while at work.
…

Which means that I *should* be more productive, huh?

We’ll see.

This explains an awful lot.

I don’t like boogers.

Not really a picker. Stopped eating them (sometime before I start smoking) and have a pet peeve about those who pick and flick while driving. I only clear out my nose while in the shower. The steam and hot water, I think makes it less bothersome and gross. Even the word is gross.

Instead I call them boogies.

“You have a boogie up your nose.”

And when some special friends blow their nose and shake their head from side to side in grief from being sicky poo, I’m entirely likely to break out in to song.

“Shake shake shake,
shake shake shake,
shake your boogie.
shake your booooogie”

The meds must be working.

I was about ready to unleash a can of whuppass on someone.

Luckily I was reasonably calm with regards to querying the person with a live phone call first.

Boy am I embarrassed.

I have just discovered FUSE via Video on Demand on my cable tv. Comcast fricking rawks.

Pardon me as I go through and watch all the Modest Mouse and Franz Ferdinand Videos now.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ERNIE!

One year older. Hopefully this year involves less puking than your first birthday party I attended.

Some Very Fond Memories:

(more…)

Realization:

I’ve lived my life … less in fear of personal failure, and more in fear of disapointing those whom I love and respect.

I am lacking in this type of courage and confidence.

This is… a weakness on my part, to give credit and respect back to those who have invested their affection, confidence and time in me.
If I fail, then there are important things to learn and success in pursuing a challenge.

I’m tumbling back in my head to some words that my college creative writing Prof told me once.

“You’re talented. But you’re lazy. You need to work harder. But you are afraid to. Quit it. Damn it. And revise.”

So sage, she was.

And to quote another source from the dusty attic of childhood memory

From Julie of the Wolves

“When you are afraid, you are doing something wrong. Change what you are doing.”

I fear change. But the notion of staying exactly the same terrifies me moreso.

…

I’ve been spending some of my downtime working on recultivating my inner monologue.

Howdy self voice.

I’ve missed thee.

Oh perfect morning
When the sun pays gentle homage
to the slope and sweetness
of eyelids soft and tight
still captured in liquid dream
I’ll watch you breathe
In the subtle clover honey of my sighs
I’ll float in oceans of crumpled sheets
And sink into the curve
made for me by your body
And there I rest and find home
In the heartbeat beneath my ear
Knowing by your sleep kissed grin
In your dreams, I am there.

Kissing Bandit: Feeling better yet?
Moi: Not really. Sort of. Hot & Cold.
KB: Like your…
Moi: …love life. Yeah. Heard that before.
KB: Been there. Done that.
Moi: Yada. Ya know I’ve had a number of folks ask about you.
KB: Oh really? You didn’t give them my number did you?
Moi: Oh hell no. Why would I? You’ve got enough troubles.
KB: Word. Indeed.
Moi: So what’s the latest?
KB: *Whisper whisper whisper*
Moi: AT WORK?!
KB: Uh huh…
Moi: I thought you had this whole thing of not shitting where you eat.
KB: Yes. True. But he’s so damn cute.
Moi: Wait… I think I know his…his…girlfriend?
KB: Oh yeah. That.
Moi: JAYZUS!
KB: Yeah. I know. It’s yet another instance where the boy can’t help themselves to want me.
Moi: And you go along with it? Complicit?
KB: So? It’s not like *I* am cheating on anyone. Besides, At least this one’s not married.
Moi: Yeah. Unlike… wait… oh yeah. I’m going to block that from my memory.
KB: Well… hey man. I’m not getting hurt. The guy knows what they want. And if anything, maybe they…
Moi: What…should be able to sleep around without repurcussions?
KB: Look. It’s not like that.
Moi: Then explain this to me.
KB: Guys are dogs. If they can cheat they will cheat. You know this all too well, already.
Moi: Bitch. Yeah.
KB: So why not cheat with someone who obvioiusly wont’ fall in love with them. Has no plans on breakign up their relationship or marriage. It’s just sex. It’s just a fling. It gets it out of the system for them without dismantling their life.
Moi: And what do you get out of it?
KB: Lots. I get laid. And when I meet their wives or girlfriends, I get some smug satisfaction.
Moi: And if he falls in love with you?
KB: Well, that can’t be helped you know. But at the least, I help them figure out what or whom they’re not in love with.
Moi: So you’re just *facilitating* the process along
KB: Perhaps. I’m really a girl’s best freind, you know. I’m a litmus test for the real thing. Why would a girl want a man who can be such an asshole anyways?
Moi: That’s kind of sick, you know.
KB: No one’s healthy. No.One.Is.Healthy.
Moi: So have you given up on real love then?
KB: Hm. Maybe. But not really. I’m a love expert afterall.
Moi: If you say so.

Here is a tail of how I succeed at being brilliant, idiotic, gross, and inapropriate all at the same time at work.

It’s currently cold in SF.
Now if you’re from anywhere currently snowy, you are likely calling me a big fat p*ssy. Fine. I’m originally from Michigan where my hair, still wet, would freeze and be crunchy by the time I walked from my home to class while in Ann Arbor. I know cold. I really do. But having lived in the bay area as long as I have now, I’ve become a big candy pants. So be it.

So it’s cold.
And rainy.
And dreary.
And overcast.

My office fails to have successful central heating. In fact *cold* air is blowing in just above my desk. On my head. This displeases me to no end. So in brilliant thinks I go and get myself my big Nalgene water bottle and fill it up in the cafeteria with the hottest water available from the water cooler. This is good for a few reasons.

#1. It is warm and delightful and I put my hands on it which makes typing ever more pleasant.
#2. When it’s finally cooled I drink the water and become less dehydrated and actually get off my ass once in a while to walk around and at least hit the rest room.
#3. I forget that I need to eat lunch and sustain myself on a max of 22 M&Ms.

Normally, I just put my hands on the bottle of water or hold it on my lap for a bit before setting it down.
Not today.

Today I kicked off my shoes (just a little tight as they *are* adult-type shoes to go with the adult-type skirt and the adult-type sweater but not the adult-like me) and had a minor personal zen moment of delight and ecstasy as i rolled the bottle beneath my cold feet.
Warm feet delight the soul. Seriously.

After the bottle cooled a bit, I pulled it up from under my desk and started sipping the water.

Note to self: EVEN IF THE WATER IS PERFECTLY CLEAN AND GREAT DO DRINK,IT’S NOT NEARLY AS FUN WHEN YOU’RE SMELLING FEET. EVEN IF THEY ARE YOUR OWN FEET.

Yeah.

Just brilliant.

Thank goodness the door was closed on the office when I made that face. Jayzus.

Annie Lin is famous and I get photo cred.

Woot

At some point some tv show in Toronto will be doing a piece on Hooping and apparently some pix that I took hooping a while back will also be used.

Wow.
I feel cool.

Meeting with my Coach today occasionally breaks my head.

I’m not used to having so many epiphanies and tough realizations. Especially when coupled with tools and ideas to adjust or improve certain behaviors and situations. It’s weird.

An analogy that came up — that felt… oddly just right.

Maybe, it makes sense if I consider myself a very complicated (or perhaps not so complicated) web page.

There is visually immediate data within the hypertext and then there is the meta data. And only those truly bored or near and dear to me might choose to scour through the source code (and tease me about how ugly some of the innards are in there — ewww tables… — i’m not compliant…but then again have I ever really been?)

I put out how I choose to be received within each environment that I’m in.

And maybe it’s just a CSS stylesheet that determines how I appear to others in different environments: Work, Personal, Family, Romantic, Social, Creative, Political.

But the content’s still me. Right?

That doesn’t change, does it? And it’s accepted and respected by all, isn’t it? So what makes me so ridiculous that I put out the wrong stylesheet for the wrong environment? Project the social stylesheet when with Family to shock? The creative stylesheet at work so I seem like a hippy/slacker in flip flops? The Romantic stylesheet at well…I gotta work on that one anyway because that’s all jacked up…or maybe it just needs more lipstick. Etc. Etc.

Talking with a friend re: the notion of semi-permeable blogging or permission/relationship-based content access has made me wonder if I need to rethink how I live my life IRL vs just here.

It’s a struggle not to be so hyper-reactive or responsive in certain environments. For someone who’s grown up feeling powerless during a lot of her life, the whole notion of not fighting back and accepting things for what they are…for not responding to every thing…is both terrifying and hard as I’ve conditioned myself to a particular behavior. It’s made me into the exact opposite of the “mouse’ which I was while growing up. But going from one extreme to the other and using that as a blanket design in all the environments of my life isn’t appropriate either. What if someone’s reading me on just a mobile device after all?

How much relationship information or personal information needs to be immediately accessible and visible to everyone who crosses my path and why am I so insistant with the notion that everyone love and adore me for all that I am while thrusting my faults and failures to the forefront? That’s not necessary. I can, just, relax after all.

Maybe go to the beach again. I do so love listening to the ocean. I adore listening to rain too. I want to sit in my car as the drops hit the sunroof in a flurry that makes everything new again and clean. This is why I love car washes too, you know.

…

It’s a lot of navel gazing.
And cleaning up some code.

at Bloggercon

With regards to microphone ettiquette in the forum discussions here at bloggercon, it’s not unlike the first time a bunch of fella’s might hit a strip joint.

The rules are you DO. NOT.TOUCH.