MinJungKim.com

Dear Lord on High,

If it would be ok with you, I’d really like to ask for a minor boon.

In the last day or so, I’ve had my brain implode.

Not with pain or anxiety or anuirism (how the fuck do I spell that by the way>) but with concern and an extraordinary stretch of my capacities for empathy, optimisim, concern, affection, cognitive dissonance, and acceptance.

Dear Lord,

Would it please be ok, (and forgive me goodness for asking this) if I could just summer through my own fricking drama then be complicit and burdened with the knowledge of the episodes of all whom I love?

It would be so much easier to be that selfish, I know.

*sigh*

Yesu Cristo,

Amen.

MJ

“Daria, do you ever think that guys and girls aren’t ever supposed to understand each other. Like it’s some huge unfunny joke on us that we’ll be struggling with for the rest of our lives? … oh look! Celery stalks”

Just one of the many thunks in my head.

That along with the fact that Greenday really needs to get over that black eyeliner thing. I mena, they really can’t do with the sufficient uber borderline incest level of creepiness as the White kids.

Gawd bless the VMA awards for its car crash-iness.

So I’ve been thinking a lot about center pieces.
For no particular reason, really other than the fact that I’d gone to an HBO Rome Miniseries launch event and the centerpieces were particularly huge and I was unable to steal any of them.

At previous events, i’ve been known to carry off a floral arrangement or two. Last night I only managed an apple and persimmon on a stick with a calla lilly tossed in my hair. I don’t know why I do these things.

Anyway, It got me thinking about times/situations when you would *WANT* people to steal your centerpiece.
And that might, perhaps be a wedding or similar celebratory adventure.

If you had a small wedding with time between the ceremony and the reception, wouldn’t it be cool to have your centerpiece have the photos from the ceremony as the party favor? I mean, it’s not like the technology isn’t available to download digital pix from the wedding, adjust them quickly, and then print them out on a photoprinter and then stick them in some sort of centerpiece like arrangement?

…
I have no reason to be thinking about these things.

Moi: Uh… Honey… did you borrow my shiseido lip brush to paint your little monsters?
Him: Um…
Moi: Honey?….
Him: Um…
Moi: You’re about to see me go chaotic evil on you.

Avoid getting into an epic battle with anyone who has

a) Their own personal fan machine causing their leather jacket to billow out majestically behind them

b) Who invokes their own stoic crazy badass orchestral musical score.

This I profess to be true. It will end badly. And you’ll just be like Ensign FillInTheNameInTheRedUniform who dies. Otherwise unremarkable.

Her. ..you know what I recommend at a time like this?
Moi: what?
Kb: your vitamins…
Moi: yeah..it couldn’t hurt
kb: especially vitamin booty. You’re looking a little deprived
moi: …
Kb:…(arched brow)
moi: its when you say shit like that that makes me want to kiss you and strangle you at the same time
kb: oh hon, I’m not into that asphyxiating kinky shit…especially if my band has to have a reality show spin off to replace me
moi: touche.

MJ!

Originally uploaded by bmindful.

You know, sometimes the captions just write themselves.

I had a dream last night that I caught a 600LB catfish.

And then I had to find a restaurant who woould fry it up to serve to all my friends.

And then we found a kitten inside the belly of the catfish.

****

I have decided to no longer eat onion rings with blue cheese dressing, and biscuits and gravy after midnight.

That seems like a good idea.

The most common gap with communication and the frustration resulting from this in the expanse of human experience and social interaction is this:

Everyone, and I mean everyone, foolishly anticipates that people behave in a manner that is within the scope of their paradigms of familiarity.

Except that everyone has their own paradigm of familiarity.

And none of them, nada nada single one, is exactly the same.

Take a good long potty sitting thunk on that.

A bacon recipe blog.

I think I’m in love.

Strap

Originally uploaded by minjungkim.

Dear Inspector #27.

I imagine that you get exhausted with the tedium of your job everyday.

After all, you are personally responsible for the quality approval of hundreds, if not thousands of elegant brassieres today.

Perhaps the cost of this particular brassiere is more than what you earn in a day because you are in an exploited sweatshop environment.

Perhaps you are a child laborer who desperately thinks of going to school vs handling and approving those over-the-shoulder-boulder-holders for entitled capitalist pigs like myself who are just trying to look like they have perky tits while you worry about your life expectancy stretching to at least puberty.

Perhaps you are a bored and understimulated bluecollar laborer who is only clinging on to this job for the hope of pension,retirement, and the time when your potsmoking children will finally move out of your garage.

Perhaps you are just a steel town girl on a Saturday night, looking for the fight of her life, in the real time world no one sees her at all,where they all say she’s crazy (2 points dear audience, if you get this reference)

Who knows.

But I just thought you should know that this one particular bra slipped through. It was manufactured with the left strap being twisted.

I forgive you this, because, Inspector #27, I suspect that you must have been having a bad day to let such an error in manufacturing quality slip by you.

And afterall, the tits will get by, regardless.

Oh yes, this too shall pass.

The modern single girl in SF does the following on chilly summer evenings.

She plugs in her powerbook to charge and places it in her bed under the covers to warm it up before trying to go to sleep.

…
Man, I’m pathetic.

Top reasons that I know that the terrorists have not won:

1. The Whole Foods grocery store in San Ramon has, in addition to a wide selection of imported olive oils and blended/single varietel orange blossom honeys, an extraordinarily knowledgeable staff in the seafood, meat, and cheese departments, and an assortment of organic vegetables (and low carb tofu — for those diet conscious hippies that use hemp soap), 2 — 2 fricking massage chairs. Because, damn it all to hell, it must be ridiculously exhausting and stressful going from aisle 2 where they have macrobiotic couscous to aisle 5 where they have biodegradeable tampons.

2. Showtime produces a brand new show about a suburban housewife who has to resort to selling marijuana to support her standard of living — which includes a gas guzzling SUV and a gorgeous remarbled and redecorated kitchen. Weeds. It’s their attempt at hitting the Desperate Housewives Market because apparently 80 hours a week of Doctor Phil and the Young & The Restless is not sufficient to satiate the desires of today’s contemporary family woman. Well, that and the gardner Raul.

3. While technopundits debate ad nauseum re: the benefits and superiority of various digital recording mediums and the rights of the consumer over digital mediums and people in Korea play online video games to the point of exhaustion and death, Mr. Osama Bin Ladin is still recording on VHS.

4. Mormons are getting vibrators.

5. Matt’s Mom is cooking me dinner tonight.

Shows that make me fall in love with TV again.

* The 4400
* So you Think You Can Dance
* Good Eats
* Firefly
* Dead like me (Reruns)
* Weeds (starting this week)
* The L Word
* Huff
* Monk
* Angels in America
* Family Guy

Coming up:
* Rome

…
My ass is definitely going to get big.

The only words I write these days
Are in chipped nailpolish and silver hairs
You’d ask me why I’ve become so quiet
But then again, that’s why you’re there

Instead of sitting on this couch with me
Watching sunshine turn to fog
Just another sunday in san francisco
Forgetting prayers to neglecting Gods