Bringing Dysfunction to a Whole New Level

I'm laughing right now. Well, sort of. This isn't funny by standard measures, but, as with all things involving my family, everything that should be standard is ass-backward instead.

Word is that my father's been in the hospital for two days. Now, as I told myself, there's no need to panic (readers included) because whether this is in fact the truth or not is anybody's guess. Our mother's the queen of drama. One minute Jimmy goes in for a routine check-up and the next, Jimmy went in for an E.K.G. and flat-lined (now there's a good story for a rainy day if you haven't already heard it).

Wanna know how I found out? Let's rewind to about 9:40 yesterday night. My brother needs to submit a baby picture for his senior yearbook. This requires accessing photo albums located at our parents' place. I gave him permission to go there after school today on the condition that he start making his way back into the city at 4 pm by car, bus, train, or subway. When I sensed the beginning of one of his morose whining sessions, I suggested he just catch a ride from one of the 'rents.

Me: Can't uhm-mah (Korean word for "mother") drive you to catch the subway?
Bro: No. She'll be at work.
Me: Can't appa (Korean word for "father") drive you?
Bro: No. He's in the hospital.
Me: Come again?
Bro: He's in the hospital.
Me: What?
Bro: He wasn't feeling well so he went to the hospital and has been there for the past two days.
Me: How long have you known this?
Bro: Uhm-mah told me the other day.

I officially welcome you to the world of uhm-mah's crazy mind games. She has left me four voicemails in the past five days, each one nagging me about Bro's unfinished college applications. Among the shards of information she included in her messages were (1) her work schedule (2) financial aid process (3) her own doctor's appointment on Monday afternoon but there was not a single mention of anybody in the hospital. Not a single peep. Do you see how absurdity has once again reared its ugly little head?

And since, as they say, the fruit doesn't fall too far from the tree when it comes to communication in my family (case in point, Bro's neglect to mention this tidbit when he himself learned), Julia herself will play along as well.

Beggar's Magic Chant

Small change
Big change
Personal check
Credit card

Repeat.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Apparently singing this catchy little tune actually makes money appear out of thin air because the beggar merrily loitering by the entrance to McDonald's has a hee-yooj smile across his face.

Cartoon from CartoonStock.com.

"Crossing The Line" 60 Minute Interview

The Sundance Film Festival showed the third in a trilogy of documentaries produced and directed by one [not bad-looking, if I do say so myself] British Daniel Gordon on the Democratic People's Republic, or as most of the world knows it, North Korea. "Crossing" follows "The Game of Their Lives" and "A State of Mind." And since North Korea's so isolated from the world, I am insanely intigued by the smallest glimpses into their lives.

Last night, 60 Minutes interviewed Mr. Gordon and his co-producer Nick Bonner about their documentary's main focus, American defector Joe Dresnok. Story in a nutshell: Dresnok dropped out of school, enrolled in the military, went to Korea, forced an authorization signature to leave base for a night of womanizing, got caught, heard he was about to be court-martialed, decided his life sucked, crossed a minefield, and defected to North Korea. That's right, folks. Dresnok chose to go to North Korea. And he doesn't want to leave.

And of the clips shown during the 60 Minutes interview, the commentator and Dresnok said something that struck a chord with me:

The government he ran to still takes care of him and didn’t cut his rations even during the recent famine when perhaps a million North Koreans starved to death.

"When I eat my rice I think about the people who died who starved to death but yet they fed me. Why do they let their own people starve to death and feed an American?" Dresnok wonders.

Clearly, Dresnok didn't realize what he was saying. I mean, you're living in a country whose government actively refused aid from the outside world and let hundreds of thousands of its people die. So maybe, Joe, just maybe, you should sit and think about what this all means. Why DO they let their own people starve to death to feed [your] American [fat ass]? Let's just think about that for a moment.

Truth is, neither I nor the rest of the world knows anything about this so-called Democratic (ha!) People's Republic. So while I criticize this American defector, I do wish that the DPR would open its doors to the world and act more as a neighbor than a threat. Sometimes world peace seems so far away.

Tardy Is So Terribly Unbecoming

I get myself worked into a tizzy (the bad kind, not the good) when things don't go as planned. If I'm to be flexible on any schedule, I actually have to plan for it. Made plans with a tardy friend? I've got plans B, C and D, lined up in my head. Bottom line: I'm an absolute nut about this kind of stuff and it's straight up unhealthy. As a result, right now, for example, the area from my upper nape down the length of my shoulder blades is one hard solid rock. No matter which way I bend my neck to stretch some of the tight muscles, it's to no avail.

So when the caterer arrived forty frickin' three minutes late today to set up for a really really really really really important recruitment reception, I was beyond the point of return. When a staff member notified me that they had finally arrived, I walked into the room not knowing how to control my wrath. The caterer was rushing around the conference room frantically setting up linens, wine glasses, and food. I silently walked up to him, waited until he stood still in his tracks, made eye contact with him, and calmly stated, "You were supposed to be here at 2." Silence. "And it's 2:45 right now." He offered neither an explanation nor an apology. Instead, he managed to weakly squeak out a pathetic "I'll have everything set up in time for your event." Stone-faced, I stepped back to within a few feet from the entrance of the room, crossed my arms, and silently watched his every move like a hawk for the rest of the prep. The other staff member stood frozen next to me, not knowing whether she should help the caterer or stay still. Then I realized the invoice included items we didn't order. I ordered the caterer to fix it. That's when she knew to stand still.

After the event, she amusingly commented, "I think you scared him." To which I replied, "Yeah, he should have been on time."

I Win, You Lose

I usually avoid confrontation. That's why today, when a harmless 30-something-year-old man gave me the once over and quietly cut in front of me in line at Trader Joe's, I stayed cool and collected. He observed that I was standing in a neutral location between two adjacent checkout lines, pegged me as the passive Asian girl, gingerly stepped out of his line, and budged right in front of me. It was clear that I was in the process of assessing which line was moving along quicker and hadn't made up my mind yet and that had he stayed in his original line and not cut in front of me, I would have been next. I didn't even blink as I stepped into his old line, effectively taking his place. And even though there was an extra person ahead of me and I had more items in my basket than he...

Guess who swiped her plastic through the machine first? Guess whose groceries were bagged first? And guess who walked out of the store first? That's right. Julia paid first, Julia received faster service, and Julia was hightailing it outta there with her pears, eggs, and spring water while you, my friend, were just beginning to unload your items from your basket.

It didn't have to be this way, but since you started it, I'll finish it for you:

Hokie-ness is Fun-ness

First things first: The Merriam Theater breeds claustrophobics.

Moving on...

Tonight, after not spending any quality time with my friend for months, I accepted her fiance's ticket and joined her and her parents for a once-in-a-life-time educational experience called The Chinese New Year Spectacular.

Even though the house was packed to the brim, no one seemed to know what to expect. The show turned out to be a myriad talent show of mandarin-speaking Chinese singers and dancers whose acts were strung together by a Lower Merion-bred American Chinese-speaking emcee. While people around us praised his impeccable Chinese, I couldn't get my mind off his hokie introductions to each act. My favorite was, "Please welcome the next dance troupe as they dance like lotus flowers blossoming." So corny that I couldn't help but smile. My favorite act was the erhu hands down.

By the way, you'll all be interested in knowing that my friend is well on her way to winning the Powerball Lottery. It's up to $240 million. I've advised her not to tell anyone about her good fortune, but I thought I'd take the liberty of spilling the beans anyway. So if you're hurtin' for money, you know who can help!

Words To Chew On

I used to keep a collection of quotes in my journal. Those were in the old days when I used to write longhand on paper - imagine that. After some time, it turned into a pretty collection, a rainbow collage of colorful post-its in all sizes. Hmm...I wonder if I still have that book.

Running across the thoughts below gave me the urge to whip out that journal and add some more post-its.

"But remember that forgiveness too is a power. To beg for it is power, and to withhold or bestow it is a power, perhaps the greatest."
Margaret Atwood, The Handmaid's Tale, Chapter 23

"Envy is hostility toward the very thing one desires."

Nancy Etcoff, Survival of the Prettiest, Chapter 3

"Ow! I just electrocuted myself in my ear."

My profound brother, yelped this evening around 4 pm as he peeled his wool coat from his static-clung pullover.

A Rare Weekend

This weekend was atypical in that I cleared out my calendar for more age-appropriate activities (versus baby-sitting, ahem). It was nice to actually spend some quality time with humans over the age of 3. The people in my life are now scattered across the country and while that saddens me, it makes the infrequent occasions when we do see one another that much more special.

Je vous présente mon week-end du 20 janvier 2007:


Portion control is not part of the Cheesecake Factory creed

Missed Paradigm, but couldn't miss Jay-Awr and K for the world
A surprise party for Miss Liza



Quacky waving

Cuteness

A photo months in the making

The end of a whirlwind weekend

Not Much To Say

I'm a bit speechless these days. Nothing but complaints and bleh thoughts. Here's something pretty to balance things out a little.

Woah.

I'm pretty bad at cracking those picture puzzle things, the ones that you stare at for a while and magically see an image through some psychedelic pattern. But I found this on some random website and it totally threw me off guard. I followed the instructions and I actually "saw" an image...that I easily recognized. I'm curious to see if we're all seeing the same thing. Try it.

1. Concentrate on the four dots in the middle of the picture for about 30 seconds.
2. Close your eyes and tilt your head back.
3. Keep them closed.
4. You'll "see" a circle of light. Continue looking at that circle.
5. Do you all see what I see?

Uxorious. Word.

Word of the Day at dictionary.com for Tuesday January 9, 2007

uxorious

\uk-SOR-ee-us; ug-ZOR-\, adjective, uxorious is from Latin uxorius, from uxor, wife:

Excessively fond of or submissive to a wife.

Examples:

It is batty to suppose that the most uxorious of husbands will stop his wife's excessive shopping if an excessive shopper she has always been.-- Angela Huth, "All you need is love", Daily Telegraph, April 24, 1998

Flagler seems to have been an uxorious, domestic man, who liked the comfort and companionship of a wife at his side.-- Michael Browning, "Whitehall at 100", Palm Beach Post, February 22, 2002

Fuller is as uxorious a poet as they come: hiatuses in the couple's mutual understanding are overcome with such rapidity as to be hardly worth mentioning in the first place ("How easy, this ability / To lose whatever we possess / By ceasing to believe that we / Deserve such brilliant success").-- David Wheatley, "Round and round we go", The Guardian, October 5, 2002

He Can Do Anything - For A Boy

From inhaling second-hand smoke from my father's cigs as both an infant and a child, I know that I've knocked off at least ten years from my life. I remember climbing the stairs to the second floor of our home and watching the lazy white smoke swirl slowly around the ceiling lights of the first floor, but at my eye level as I reached the top of the stairs.

We three girls (uhm-mah, Soeur, and myself) would cough and frown, and although the fumes made me tear and the smells made me cough, it was all part of life so I never questioned it.

[Cue kid with a penis.]

Then my brother was born in '87. That's when he quit. Amazing what a profound effect a son will have on his asshole Korean father, no?

Oink Oink All Year Long

The lunar calendar tells us that 2007 is the year of the pig. In fact, it's the year of the golden pig, an extra special year. Contrary to popular American knowledge, the Chinese are not the only ones who observe the lunar calendar; Koreans do, too. "Chinese New Year" is a bit misleading, wouldn't you say? In any case, I'm reading on-line that the entire city of Seoul is lined with gold pigs. Imagine that - jolly fat little glittering pigs all over the city. Even one of the little piggies in this cake display is gold!

Cankles

Way back in the day, probably sometime during those dreadful teenage high school years, my sister complained of some of our unfortunate genetic predispositions. Among other things, it drove her insane that we had cankles. As urbandictionary so eloquently defines, a cankle is "the area in affected female legs where the calf meets the foot in an abrupt, nontapering terminus." Just like the cartoon images above indicate, it's not the most flattering part of your body unless you're a chubby 6-month-old baby - especially not when you're in high school. And by the way, I don't believe the term is gender-specific; I've seen men with cankles!

(For the sake of maintaining some anonymity on this blog, you will never fully understand the irony of this term if you don't know me in person, but if you do, it's pretty darn funny if you make the connection.)

Cartoon from http://www.toothpastefordinner.com/102005/cankles.gif.

Animal Print, Something New

Awe, schnap. This is definitive proof that my mind has run far away from home. I hastily ordered some knit tops from Banana Republic on-line this morning. I just reviewed my e-mail receipt and look what I see neatly tucked between a black merino v-neck and a green silk blend sweater: 1 silk animal print shirt.

[Silence while Julia tries to remember how this item reared its ugly head onto her receipt.] How da heck...?

If BRep's* return policy didn't allow easy store returns for on-line purchases, I'd be nervous. For now, I'm just worried about how I managed to add this to my cart and then actually check out without noticing. It's certainly not something that I would consciously choose. Who knows: maybe I'll like it? Um, yeah...right...

*Way back in the day I lived with a bunch of sorority girls off campus in a great big eight-bedroom house. When one of them reported the events of her day, it was all I could do to avoid peeing in my pants when the two syllables "bee-repp," heavily accented with a valley girl accent, flew out of her Queens, New Yorker mouth. I thought it was the most entertaining term ever and laughed uncontrollably in her face. I even had a good laugh over sharing this new phrase with my friends. The term has since become part of colloquial 20-something-year-old speak, but I still remember the days when people would burst out laughing when they first heard the term. Ah, Susan, you were so far ahead of the times; simply introducing the world to a whole new way of calling the Banana as I made fun of you. Joke's on me, I guess.

I've figured out what else is contributing to my foul mood:

Or lack therof...I just had my first bowel movement in 48 hours.
Oh, crap - literally. If only it were so easy.

Only Day 2 of 365?

Here are the events that led to my first temper tantrum of the year:

1. Smart Bargains lowers the price of the quilted spread I sent to my sister for Christmas by $20 only four days after I make the purchase. Smart Bargain's solution: instead of processing a price adjustment, I'll have to refuse the original package and order a new one with the new price - even though the package hasn't even been delivered at this point. Can they be anymore backwards? It's not surprising that their sister store, Loehmann's, lost the boots I put on hold overnight. I'm boycotting both stores.

2. I walk a lazy idiot through making a service call for the broken copier machine and then he has the nerve to tell me that it was my job to do it and not his. Useless piece of moron.

3. A brown-nosing recent graduate of my department's program patronizes me via e-mail and I can't do or say anything about it. You've got money coming out of your NYC ass and you're nickel and diming me?

4. I walk into Puma and find out that the shirts I got last week are on sale at 30% off. And it's past the 7 day price adjustment period. This is the LAST Christmas that I will ever buy commercially sold items before they go on sale a week later. Effing ridonculous.

I know I'm in an unnecessarily lousy mood. I also know that I shouldn't get worked up over silly things that are bound to happen, but MY GAWD, PEOPLE. Can we TRY to keep things real for once?

Stop bothering me. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaak!