No real post for today? Fer fuck's sake.
Lady Grantham, please accept my sincerest and gravest apologies. You see, I am drunk and want to watch TV. Your show, in fact. I'm so drunk and want to get off on retro English awkward silences and imagine kissing their stiff upper lips and fantasize about their privileged sweat dripping onto my abdomen.
Don't worry Mary, I'll stay away from all Turkish diplomats.
Argh, I suck.
Point taken.
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Okay, Glamazons! Today's giveaway is a Tarte for True Blood eye makeup palette:
I bought this a few months ago and although I've opened the box and looked upon it lovingly many times, I actually haven't used it. So I am giving it away, hopefully to someone who can do it more justice than creepy staring.
The palette contains 17 full-size eyeshadows, ranging from everyday natural to glittery fabulous, primer, aqua gel eyeliner, and mascara. Because it was limited edition, it is no longer for sale in retail stores, but right now it's going for about $80 on eBay.
So, what I want to know is: Which character on "True Blood" would you most like to do bad things with?
You know the deal: Comment below to enter to win! I will randomly draw a winner on Friday. Good luck!
PS: Although I love me some Eric AND Bill, I'd have to go for Pam first. She's so fierce and she swings my way? Jackpot!
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Although I love vaginas and enjoy talking about them, I have yet to go see a Vagina Monologues show. Oh, how I wish I can go to this one! The cast is all Asian/Pacific Islander, and I bet this will be a transformative experience.
From their website:
NAPAWF Bay Area proudly presents an Asian Pacific American women's production of the Vagina Monologues. Set in the historic Castro Theater of San Francisco, we'd like to invite you to an evening celebrating community visibility, the stories of women, and Asian Pacific American Heritage Month.
This production is directed by Gabrielle Patacsil and features an all Asian Pacific American women-identified cast. Proceeds benefit the local Bay Area chapter of the National Asian Pacific American Women's Forum, the nation's only multi-issue women's organization for Asian Pacific American women and girls.
And here are the performers introducing themselves in an awe-inspiring, irreverent, hilarious, and poignant video:
The APA Vagina Monologues
Thursday, May 17, 2012 7:30 PM
Castro Theatre
429 Castro Street (at Market)
San Francisco, CA 94114
United States
Tickets are $15-65 and can be purchased here.
Cross-posted on Kimchi Mamas.
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Erin asks: If you had a day to do whatever (and whoever) you wanted without consequences, barring any obstacles or even physics or the laws of time and space, what would you do?
Two words, my friend: SMITHS REUNION.
Morrissey and Marr: I can make them get back together, I know it!
After that, I would definitely take the day off, send the kids to school, and bend space-time to accomodate a lot of hedonism and world travel. I'd flag down The Doctor (not the current one, but David Tennant, ohoho yes) and make him take me all over the universe in a blue Police Box. I'd definitely visit my friends strewn across our little blue planet and invite them to join us.
Mmmmm...lovely
The day would culminate in a Last Supper-themed feast/rave/orgy/photo shoot styled by David LaChappelle where Morrissey is Jesus, I am the Virgin Mary, and the apostles are my favorite drag queens and members of the Stone Roses. Lady Gaga will be Magdalene, washing everyone's feet with her mouth. There would be real flying cherubim and the spread would be epic: Moroccan, Ethiopian, Korean, Indian, Greek, Mexican, and those are just the models, dahling! The food would be even more delicious. Vomitorium would be off to the right, of course.
Because of the time travel aspect, I have to assume this already happened because LaChappelle has already captured it:
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Anonymous IMer asks: How has your love story with your husband changed since you first fell in love?
Oh, jeepers. The short, smart-ass answer is, "A shit ton, give or take a shit." The long answer deserves more time and thought than what I'm about to say here, but I'll limit the focus to just the "love story" part of our relationship (i.e., not our co-parenting, the daily banalities of marriage, or what-have-you), and just from my point of view.
First and foremost, I think it's important to point out that I was 23 when we got married. I was a baby, and didn't know myself and/or my potential selves, let alone all of the intricacies of Tim's psyche. All I really knew was that our connection ran deep, like animal-brain, pheromone-level deep. I could just stare at him for hours, talk to him for days on end, memorize every pore. My heart rate would palpably slow down if I just leaned into his neck and breathed him in. And of course, there were fireworks every time we touched.
(Sounds so cheesy and stalkery now! But I shall go on.)
Because this kind of affection inevitably cuts both ways, and probably also because I was still very much at the mercy of my depression, I really, really needed him. I had this juvenile desire to spend every moment together, so any meal, movie, or laundry folding session spent apart wounded me. I also thought the relationship would end quite often, so I would constantly miss him, sometimes even when he was right there next to me. As you can guess, Tim felt suffocated and would pull away at times, which made me feel worse. The whole thing was pretty unhealthy, and I really had to grow up quite a bit and learn how to be my own person. Unfortunately, this was when I was also trying to figure out how to be a mother, so Isaac's early years were tumultuous for Tim and I couple-wise.
Nowadays, things are much more stable. I still like to smell him, but I'm more comfortable in my own skin. I've developed and nurtured my own self-identity, learned to recognize where I end and other people begin. So now I'm fine being alone, with or without the kids, and that's very much a good thing. Having a home to call our own with the little family farm out back helped me greatly, too. Once we were able to put down roots somewhere, my spirit really started growing.
We still can talk for hours, make each other laugh, and we go out a couple times a month to concerts, movies, dinners, drinks, etc. But now the stakes aren't so high, perceived rejections aren't constantly plaguing me, and I feel more relaxed. There are still fireworks, but toned down a smidge because our house is small and Emi has an uncanny "business time" spidey sense. I think she wants to ensure she's the baby of the family.
So, moral of the story is: relationships are extremely tough to sustain because you are not just dealing with two people over a certain period; you are also dealing with the people they morph into over the years as well as the shifting whirlpools of their environment. So at any given slice of time, are the partners compatible at that moment? Hopefully so, but chances are there will be time periods of incompatibility. And I think that's okay. If you're really in it for the long haul, when you look over at your partner and find an almost-complete stranger who isn't up to snuff, at some point you will have to think, "I will wait; this person is worth waiting for." Of course, the two of you could always find other people who are already at the levels you need, but what's the fun in that? :P
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Today's embarrassing story brought to you by Oasis!
Okay, so I was at an Oasis concert at the Bill Graham Civic Auditorium in San Francisco when I was a sophomore in college (so that would be around 97/98). They were playing "Champagne Supernova" and the crowd was going wild. Then the really long guitar solo part came on and Liam Gallagher started wandering around the stage, dead-eyed, trying to convince girls to flash him. He looked STRAIGHT AT ME and made a motion with his hands to pull my top up. I did the whole "Who, Me?" shrug and pointed to my chest. He nodded and tilted his head, like he was saying, "Well, come on, then!" And so I took a moment to think about it.
I must have taken too long because the instant I yanked my shirt up, he pivoted and started walking the other way. Therefore, I flashed the people in the audience staring at me instead. I was so mortified, I didn't want to pull my shirt back down and show people my face, so I was frozen there. However, Liam did turn back, took a glance, and gave me and my "girls" a thumbs-up. Whew!
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Please help me from future embarrassment! I will blatantly copy my Kimchi Sister jooliyah and take questions. You can ask me anything, about motherhood, depression, not living up to your parents' expectations, my personal Top 5, hobbies, what I'm wearing, anything! Please comment below or email me.
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My girlfriends and I spent Birthdaypalooza this year in LA. Since I was then the unofficial host and tourguide, I took them to two of my favorite places: Magic Castle and the Korean spa. People might label an evening of drunken flirtation with members of the occult followed by a day of full-monty same-sex nudity with scrub-downs by dour Korean ladies dressed in what can only be described as ironic black lingerie as unorthodox, but then again, they wouldn't know much about me and my girls.
The worst part about Birthdaypalooza is the shock one feels the Monday afterwards. Reality never felt so cruel.
Sigh, I love them all and always will.
Oh! I also owe two of them a limerick.
Ode to Linda
Linda brings boatloads of fun
Her parties are second to none.
My liver's still sickened
From her bachelorette weekend
That happened in 2001.
Ode to Deb
Deb is a dancer and sailor
And so many boys want to nail her!
But they disappoint,
She rejects them en pointe;
Only her groom is allowed to abseil her.
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It is 11/11/11, and my girlfriends and I are snuggling together in our plush hotel room near LA Live! There are two more flying in tomorrow, but I will now take this time to write an ode in limerick form to the two who are here.
Ode to Huong
Huong has a great big set of hooters
Which attract an army of suitors
Be jealous of me,
For I see them for free
Resting beside my computer.
Ode to Kathy
I have a dear friend I call Kathy
Who is currently taking a bathie.
Through the door I heard moans
So I left her alone
To her intimate homeopathy.
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I told myself that if I stared at an empty "Compose New Post" screen for too long, I will force myself to cough up some embarrassing story. And now it's almost 11:00 pm, and I need to post something or else I'm disqualified from NaBloPoMo! Ack!
I've already told you all pretty much everything. My fetish for distinctive noses, my tendency to get mistaken for someone with mental handicaps, my traumatizing one-night stand that made me hate Valentine's Day forever. What else is there to confess? Oh yes, there are TONS.
I was actually reminded of this one last week on my birthday. One of my former students wished a happy birthday to a someone with the initials GBK. And again, today, my friend left me a voicemail saying that she thought at first she didn't have my phone number in her new phone because there was no entry for "Julie," but lo and behold, she found me under "GBK."
GBK is an unfortunate nickname bestowed unto me my sophomore year of college. I was hanging out with my next door neighbors, and as was typical for us, the conversation drifted towards pornography. There may have been alcohol involved. There were definitely red Dixie cups involved, and we all know those mean nothing but trouble.
Do you know the porn name convention of your first name being the name of your first pet, then your last name being the street you grew up on? We were laughing at each others', and then it was my turn to figure mine out, and it was Bunny Stonegrove, which I thought was an amazing porn name.
Then the heavens split open, and my friend Mike widened his eyes like he was touched by the wang of Ron Jeremy himself, and he said "Noooo way, Julie. Your porn name would be..." and when he uttered the words, my spirit crumbled into a million pieces because I knew this one was bad enough to stick. And it did. To this day, my best friends and closest acquaintances lovingly refer to me as Gang Bang Kang.
Hopefully now I have embarrassed myself into taking NaBloPoMo more seriously. I shudder to think of the Google search keywords that will now show up on my analytics report.
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My gift to you: a brief trip down memory lane.
Recall Thanksgiving 2003:
It was a horrific experience bringing him into the world, but once Isaac finally popped out, seeing you two meet each other was nothing short of miraculous. Just look at your faces!
Now, fast forward to right after New Year's 2007:
Different hospital, a much saner birth experience, and our little girl entered the world with a mighty roar...plus I remember in my morphine haze you looking super hot in scrubs.
Sigh...the kids are so big now. Here are some extra credit photos:
Happy Father's Day!!!
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