Forever Young

The beginning of something. A teaser trailer.

No Title from Katherine Young on Vimeo.

Humor

Life is a funny thing sometimes. More often than not, things are waaay funnier to you than to most people. And that is where I'm at right now. I think everything is funny, sometimes cruelly funny and sometimes funny-sad. I firmly believe I'll be spending the rest of my life thinking things are funny that other people think are sad. But enough of the abstracts.

It's funny-awkward when you are having a conversation with your boss and you accidentally offend her about her medication decisions when you are only trying to have an educated discussion about the merits of modern medicine for women. It's funny-sad when you see a guy dressed like Carlton from The Fresh Prince leave your apartment with a gaggle of girls all heading for a bar and you know he has no chance with any of them. It's just funny when you see a dog-owner trolling around after his pet with a plastic bag and then bends down to pick up it's excrement and then looks around awkwardly to see who notices. It's even funnier when there is no garbage can in sight and you watch said dog-owner walk for a few blocks carrying a bag of poop. It's funny cruel to say really obnoxious things and watch your roommates slowly stew and finally disappear into their rooms because you know you've pushed all their buttons and they are just exhausted with you. Like I said, probably not funny to you. It's hard to cage a smart-ass mouth sometimes.

But in the interest of full-disclosure, it is never funny to make fun of grandparents/elderly people, siblings (unless they deserve it), or babies under the age of 2. Precocious kids under the age of 2 are acceptable targets, of course, but more often than not, they won't get the underlying sarcasm of your dig although, on the other hand, they are precocious so perhaps you should give them credit where credit is due. (That was the longest run-on sentence ever.) Or maybe not. I was never very good with grammar. And for this English major, that is ironic-funny. Perhaps the best kind of funny.

COMMENCE

Holla. Spring is here. Well, almost here. And I'm pumped. I've got several trips on the docket, a whole 2 months off from the theatre, and a brand new golf membership card to the oldy-but-goody CPD courses, some new pants, a fresh wax and paint job for the car, a full tank of gas, an alfresco table for dining, new dinner partners, and last but not least, some breathing room.

Spring, commence!

I've missed you.

Faces

I woke up this morning and took a look in the mirror. This is what I saw:

Once I got over the shock of having become a caricature, I realized that I've been waking up a lot like that lately. I can't really pin it on one thing only that my life has increasingly made me an angry person. So what does one do when one feels like they are slowly slipping?

VACATION here:

August can't come soon enough. And perhaps a little job-hunting???

Silencing the critics

Yes.

No.

Yes.

Nice.

No.

Not really sure.

Probably not.

Rants and Raves

Bike Cops. What are they good for? The other day I was riding my bike and hit a giant pothole causing a massive tire deflation. A bike cop pulled by. I flagged him down and get this...he didn't even have a pump!! What good is a bike cop who doesn't carry a freakin bike pump! HONESTLY.

And really, really, what is he going to do? Target jaywalkers? Arrest people for jogging on the wrong side of the road? No. He/She is a nuisance who rides their bike in the middle of the road pretending they are a car with some kind of demented delusion of authority. Not only do they look ridiculous in their misguided "uniform", I feel they shame the entire police force by being half-ass cops. It would make more sense for the bike cops to be all the chubby officers, the ones who don't pass their physicals. Then they could work off their doughnuts on the bike. And really, in a city like Chicago, what's a bike cop going to do to a gang drug dealers and lowlifes? Watch out my bike tread...it will hurt you. Or, I've got a pump and I'm not afraid to use it. Or wait, I forgot they don't even carry pumps. Sheesh.

Whew...now that that is off my chest. I cooked this evening. Yes, you read that right. I, Asiankp, whipped up a batch of chili for my roommates. I've started to diet and it involves me cooking...alot. We'll see how long this lasts. I may just get lazy and starve myself.

In other news, I'm trying something very, very new this weekend. Okay, not really. But maybe. I heart being cryptic.

HAPPY EASTER!

Hardee-har-har.

Shooting Summer Video

So with the presence of 70 degree weather in Chicago in March for that matter, I'm feeling a summer video shoot bubbling at my fingertips. That being said, I'm taking submissions. Capture you and your loved ones doing things outside, fun things, simple things, beautiful things and send them to me. This is more a favor to me really. I'll try and upload a teaser for you...

What's my age again?

One of the joys (and potential pains) of living with 3 roommates is the liveliness of conversation that inevitably arises when all of you are in the same room. Sometimes the dialogue is juvenile but lately topics have included but not limited to:

-Health Care

-Dignity of the Human Person

-The Morality of Torture

-Natural Law

-Zoning laws in Chicago

-Role of Aldermen in community

-Encyclicals of the Pope and previous popes

-Role of the Church in modern society

-Pope's reaction to flare-up in Ireland re. priests

-The Great Schism

-Beauty Grooming Techniques

-Earth Day

Okay, so Earth Day never really made it to the table but the rest have at some point or another. When did we start becoming grown-ups?

What I did this afternoon

Sigh.

Dear World,

Love,

AsianKP

Something in the Water

Almost everyone I know is pregnant. Not pregnant with emotion but actually pregnant. Can you even be pregnant with emotion? Probably not. This reminds me a poem I read once that was a metaphor about a pregnant lady. The imagery is rich although I'm not quite sure I get the green apples bit...

I've included it below. Congratulations to all my friends expecting bundles of joy!

I'm a riddle in nine syllables,
An elephant, a ponderous house,
A melon strolling on two tendrils.
O red fruit, ivory, fine timbers!
This loaf's big with its yeasty rising.
Money's new-minted in this fat purse.
I'm a means, a stage, a cow in calf.
I've eaten a bag of green apples,
Boarded the train there's no getting off.

-Sylvia Plath

insensitive

I like to go to the library. I also have a sensitive nose. Why are these things related? I'll tell you.

The library I frequent has a large lobby that is always open. This attracts homeless folks. That is all well and good except these homeless people stink. And I don't mean like a momentary stink like someone passing gas but a reeky, lingering, bowel-wretching smell. And it kills me. I cannot make it through the lobby without contorting my face and holding my stomach. I try to bring my hand to my nose but I'm carrying a small 2 yr. old as well as the most poorly designed stroller known to man so my hands are occupied. But dang, it SMELLS. I then think of that one song by Joan Osbourne where she says, "What if God was one of us? Just a slob like one of us? Just a stranger on a bus..." I start to feel really bad. Even when the homeless man has a wet stain all over the front of his pants and flashes me a toothless grin, I still feel bad. But then the smell hits me again and I realize that that song has an annoying guitar rift and is lame. And then I bolt to the elevator.

wannabe ninja

Okay...so I realize that the point of a blog is to actually write fun and interesting things about your day but lately I've been so consumed trying to experiment with my computer's video capabilities that everything falls to the way side. Here's the latest and I may regret posting this:

Wannabe Ninja from Katherine Young on Vimeo.

Apartment Tour

Apartment Tour in 58 Seconds. It's kinda jumpy. But hey, so is the apartment. Ha. Ha. Ha?

Apartment Tour from Katherine Young on Vimeo.

#8 in 2010

#8 Thing to Do in 2010: Google Blobfish. One word. Then get back to me.

Also, today I ruined The Bachelor final for my roommate and she came up with this gem of a quote: "From now on, I'm going to refer to anyone who ruins a big fat surprise as an Asiankp."

I also recently cancelled a trip to South Carolina for 4 days of fun and golf and instead opted, or rather, was forced to spend it on new brakes for my ailing car. I suppose it was a good choice.

Olympic Fever

I've got it.

The Olympics make the general public suddenly develop a weird sense of entitlement and national pride. Seriously. When would you ever walk into a bar and hear people chanting, "U-S-A" if not during an Olympic year?!?! This year, I'm all about Korea. I mean, come on, Kim Yu-Na??!?! Seriously...how amazing was she!! I stopped being Korean Korean at the age of 5 but watching her skate and break records makes me second guess ever giving up that citizenship. And our speed-skaters?? Minus of few whiny-babies, we are a good bunch. Notice my usage of the term "we" as if we are all in this together, me and the South Koreans. Anyway, this post is pretty pointless other than to tell you what I've been doing the last couple of weeks. Obsessing over a country I left almost 25 and half years ago.

Long lost sisters?? Perhaps. I've been known to strike a graceful pose here and there.

The Dream

I'm walking along the Brooklyn Bridge when suddenly a piece of paper flies into my face telling me to go to this meat market. For some reason, I go. There is a man following me wearing green sunglasses, a large black overcoat and spats. Apparently, he's been following me since I woke up this morning. I walk around the meat market when I see a giant cow painted orange. The man with the green sunglasses then takes this opportunity to grab me and shove a paper bag over my head. I black out. I wake up in a dark and dingy basement with my feet in a bucket of cold water and electrodes are hooked up to my ears. Men in ski masks ask me where I hid the money and where I'm hiding him. I don't know what they are talking about. They ask me why I'm the illegitimate child of Basil Templeton. I do not know Basil. They do not believe me. They then ask me again about the money. How much money? 7.5 million dollars. I am not rich because I apparently live in the meat market and grow orange cows. They ask again about the money and turn on the electrodes. The electricity tears through me and I black out again. I wake up in the Waldorf Hotel and Basil is there thanking me for not turning him in. He says the 7.5 million is in an offshore account in the Caymans that I will receive when I turn 30. But until then, I'm to move out of the meat market and give up the orange cows and buy 3 one-way airline tickets to Brazil, New Zealand, and New Orleans. At the last minute, I'm to decide which one to take. I take a cab to the airport but as we are driving there, a sniper starts to take out people on the street and Basil texts me that I'm in danger. I'm to hop out of the cab and head underground. Somewhere along the way, I acquired a gun and am to use it if I see the man with the green sunglasses. After descending underground, I find myself in the middle of a stampede of orange cows. Thankfully I hold on to a pole from the ceiling and from my high vantage point I see the man with the green sunglasses get trampled by the herd.

Weird. I think I've been reading way to much John Grisham lately. Also, the last movie I saw was District 9 so that explains a few things. Perhaps I should incorporate some more romantic comedies and light-hearted books into my life for the next couple of days.

Video Killed the Radiostar

I know I've bored you all to death with my talk of computers and since I have a new one now, I'm sure you all figured that this pointless, annoying diatribe about technology would cease. Sadly, you are wrong. I'm, at the moment, so fully invested in this thing, its almost sickening. Don't worry, I still interact with the world. I do work with children, you know. I've been dying to start making little videos and learn the finer points of editing software so this is perfect place to begin. I even cut a little video of friends dancing. You can see it here. I've made some other ones too but they are not for the public....ask me sometime to show you what happens when a roommate steals the camera.

However, my subjects are limited and I'm pretty sure that if I stick the camera in my roommates' faces one more time, I will soon be homeless. So, if any of you want to send me a clip of yourself or your children, I'll happily accept. Don't expect any residuals though....

On another note, tomorrow I'm to attend a Potty Dance Party sponsored by Pull-Ups with a 2 yr. old. Good times.

#7 in 2010

I'm writing this blog post from my new computer. !!!!!! Finally. Very exciting. I'm definitely a mite poorer now but I figure its a good investment. Also, I deleted my last post on Haiti because after re-reading it several times, I feel it came across as insensitive and inconsiderate.

So, #7 Thing to do in 2010: Listen to new music.

I don't mean the iTunes top sellers of the week. I mean a whole new genre of music that you would never listen to. And whole new brand/style/sound. Something totally out of the ordinary. Call up a friend you know who has drastically different tastes than you and ask him/her to recommend something. Then give it a chance. Unless your friend likes John Mayer then you and I will have to re-evaluate our friendship based on your friendship because that man, I just cannot stand.

While I was in DC, I took up a friend's invite to see a band play at a local bar. I was not in the mood for any going out activity let alone a bar I'd never been to to see a band I've never even heard of. I arrived at the bar with the friends sister and it was empty. Not a good sign. However, shortly after our arrival, a man entered wearing a top hat and a washboard around his neck. He wandered around the bar for a little bit and then began to play his washboard with a variety of things like spoons and whatever he could get his hands on. Then the lights went up on stage and what appeared to be a traveling band of gypsies was front and center all wearing costumes. The rest of the show was amazing. Their performance was probably the most enjoyable live band I've ever seen. The music was not my usual taste, but pleasantly soothing. It was a mix of carney/gypsy music with a slight tinge of bluegrass. I immediately went home and bought their songs. In fact, the boys even got hooked on it. And, their music probably helped me survive the 11 hr. trip home. The name of this band: Caravan of Thieves.

Look them up. And enjoy. Live long and prosper people.