Sunday, June 8

WEEKEND UPDATE . . .

1. The Bridal Shower: it rained all day. The lovely outdoor backyard barbecue never happened. Nonetheless, 28 women commiserated snugly inside my home about JKo and her upcoming nuptials. Plenty o' food, plenty o' drink, plenty o' sexy lingerie, plenty o' blushing young women. COME ON, LADIES -- get over it! What do you think you'll be wearing on your honeymoon?! And don't you dare say "t-shirt and boxers" or I'm going to have to hold a class on proper married-woman nightwear . . . even though I'm not married. Eh, bygones. Besides, even if you're not married, you should be pampering yourself with nice underthings nonetheless, IMHO . . .

2. The Injury: Neosporin saved the day, as always. I wish they made it in edible form, as I've stated not a few times before. I bet if we could eat Neosporin, many of the world's ills would disappear. My finger has returned to its natural shape, there is no more oozing blood and pus, I have feeling again in the fingertip, and only the occasional absent-minded slam against a wall makes me wince in pain. God bless Neosporin . . .

3. Among Friends: after dinner this evening in Tarrytown, five of us stood out on the sidewalk on S. Broadway and talked at length about . . . eczema. Ointment that smells like old people. 100% cotton mittens that nourish dry skin. Over-the-counter antihistamines. Claritin-D. Water-filled blisters and how to properly pop them. Panic buttons for intubated premature babies in respiratory distress. But no, we really are just in our 20s . . .

4. Monday, Monday: Hooch returns!!!! I fully expect that she'll be tan and blissed out, and utterly ecstatic that her trial settled, so she can revel in her blissed-out state for at least another four days before I am tempted to shake her back into reality. But at least I won't have to talk to a photo of her head anymore. That was getting kind of weird, even for me . . .

5. Pressing Thoughts: we take the newlyweds-to-be to Foxwoods this weekend for their joint bachelor/bachelorette extravaganza. This should be interesting for a variety of reasons, including the facts that: (1) none of us really gamble all that much . . . or all that well; (2) some of us just learned that when gambling or pulling slots, we get free drinks, and we are very excited about this; (3) none of us really drink all that much . . . or all that well; and (4) all of us are used to going to bed at an average hour of about 10:30p.m.. Interesting, indeed . . .

6. Random Contemplation: I wonder why I am not all of myself with all people at all times. I have distinct personas for distinct arenas of my life, and while there is some nominal overlapping of personality traits, I am definitely perceived as being a certain type of person by each social faction. Sometimes, I feel somewhat guilty, constrained and/or frustrated that I can't be a true Christian at work, a real hardass lawyer at church, a grownup among my LOLs, a level-headed serious young woman at home. In general, my church world doesn't know that I am deeply emotional and thoughtful, that I read a lot, that I am updated on current events, and that I'm more than a frivolous one-liner here and there. In general, my work world doesn't know that I am devotedly involved in church-related activities, that I consider myself more culturally Korean than American, that I'd rather spend time at home with my family than go out and party. In general, my LOLs don't know that it's weirder for some of them not to ask weird questions and do offbeat things than it is for me to ask and do those things, that I am responsible and grounded and mature, that I don't feel the need to do something with them all the time -- just being with them and eating chips is enough. In general, my family doesn't know that I'm really intelligent, that I'm emotionally stable, that I want to honor them in everything I say and do. Is it my responsibility to reveal my whole inner self to people, or is it their responsibility to look past what I offer them, should they care enough to? I haven't yet figured out if it's more work to keep my personalities divided, or to let them all meld together, come what may. On the other hand, I don't think everyone in all my worlds is ready for me to be all of me, all at once. So, the game goes on . . .

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