kimmie nguyen:

With age, comes...eggs?

I celebrated another birthday last month. A good birthday as they always are but more and more I've been feeling this "age thing" (go ahead, roll the eyes). But it's definitely a women-hormones-kind-of-a-thing. Your EGGS start TALKING to you. Seriously. They make babies look cute and force you to think about things like if you don't meet the one in x years and procreate, well you may end up as a wrinkly spinster eating tuna out of a can. And who knows, maybe I will. Maybe I won't. However my indecisiveness on the subject matter does not keep the eggs from talking. It's rather creepy. Damn you, mother nature.

So what is this hormonal rant all about? No idea. Thought it was about time I did a life post. Sucks that all I have to talk about is, yeah eggs. As you can see I've been struggling with a bit of writer's block. Admitedly the whole interweb sharing process has just become too tedious. I blame Google+  and all the other products that have splintered my experience of the social web. Too many places for me to share *something* about what I'm doing, when I'm doing it, how I'm doing it, who I'm doing it with and what the picture of it looks like filtered with low-fidelity lens. And you know what, the people I'm sharing *that* with may not care so why haven't I put them into a circle. Eep. With all of that, who has time to actually sit down and write in a blog?

Well, I'd like to attempt to return to a regular schedule of random musings. This is a good a start as any I suppose. :)

(lovely birthday cards via the talented tiffchow and kateritzero)

Duck Sauce :: Barbara Streisand

 

"Oowoo woo woo woo woo woo woo" became the official tune for the girlfriends this weekend at Coachella. Good times. We are already planning for next year. Bigger and better, harts!

 

Just a Name

'Kimmie' is not my given name. My legal name is much longer and doesn't sound sexy when murmured under one's breath. Not like 'Kimmie' is oh-so-sexy but give this a whirl in bed, 'Hello, Khanh Kim Phuong Nguyen'. While you don't need the first and last names to be strung together for it to be valid, it's considered the formal way of telling someone your name in Vietnamese. After years of teachers mis-pronouncing my name (repeat: Con Kim) and kids butchering it in ways never thought possible (hi, King Kong), my besties in junior high decided a slightly more American name was in order. And so it began with mom lecturing non-stop about how I was throwing away my roots. A small twist on a name and suddenly I was turning my back on my culture? But I loved my new, upbeat name and used it everywhere despite her disapproving glare. The funny thing is...I never actually did change my name legally. Admittedly it was first out of fear but eventually just because I wanted to keep the name that she had given me.

The other day I received a package from mom addressed to 'Ms. Kimmie Nguyen'. My immediate thought was, "Shit I'm in trouble." But it was just a care package and a quick call home confirmed that everything was fine.  As little a gesture as that was I feel like we've met somewhere in the middle on this one. So what if it took 20 years to get here, she's finally okay with calling me 'Kimmie'.