He's Coming! He's Coming!

AIEEEEEEE!!!!!!
FANGURL SCREAMS SOME MORE!
AIEEEEEEE!!!!

JUNE 11! GREENBELT MALL!

AIEEEEEE!!!!!!

Citius, Altius, Fortius

Contrary to a Libra's supposed virtues, I am a competitive person.

I like to compete. I guess this is one reason why cosplay appeals to me so much. I like competing against myself, discovering new things, new ideas, new ways of doing and being. I also like the idea of pitting myself, my work, and my abilities against other people. Whenever I win or land in the semi-finals of a contest, I don't bask in the glow of victory. The thought that always runs in my mind is, Oh no, what could I do to top this?

I would like to think that I am a good sport, gracious in both victory and defeat. I am not a win at all cost kind of person, and am more likely to use whatever means is at my disposal. I have used my charm to get into and get out of many, many interesting situations.

However, I draw the line with pageants. Despite my family's continued proddings, I have never been comfortable in competing in events that pit beauty against beauty, physique against physique. That is just not fair. Short of plastic surgery, there is really little one can do with the looks that God gave a person. One can alter looks, but really, being judged with a criteria so subjective, how can anyone say one is more beautiful than the next? How can a competition based on that be fair? It may sound hypocritical from someone who joined (and won) a beauty pageant, and I may eat my words some time in the future, but that's how I feel about beauty pageants for now.

I like competing in events that I can prepare for, with a goal that I can work toward. Today I will be joining the Slimmer's World Olympic events squats competition, where I will compete against several women to do the most squats while lifting weights equivalent to 50 percent of the competitor's body weight. For me, that is equivalent to about 55 pounds. I've been preparing for this for weeks now. I never imagined that skinny me will be asked to lift weights!

Yes, I have many flaws. I am self-conscious, vain, sometimes pompous and self-centered. In joining competitions, I'd like to think that I'm building character, in my true quest of being the best me I can possibly be.

Nitpick, I Must

In order of annoyance:

10) Though it was excellent CG, too much battle scenes.
9) Lines like, "Oh Anakin, you're breaking my heart!"
8) Padme's diminishing control over her intellectual faculties and increasingly hormonal/emotional outbursts with every succeeding movie.
7) Inconsistencies, like, how come Anakin knew that Luke was his son but didn't sense Leia? Was it because she didn't have "Skywalker" next to her name? Wasn't the Force strong with her?
6) Hayden Christensen tries too hard.
5) The lovely couple discover their on-screen chemistry too late. Episode 2 was supposed to be the "romantic" movie, according to George Lucas. If Episode 2 is a geek male's idea of romance, humanity is in trouble.
4) Nobody goes to sleep in a pearl gown, perfectly coiffed hair and a mask of dewy make-up.
3) Nobody actually knows that Padme and Anakin, two very high-profile people, were married? They were living together for crying out loud!
2) With all that technology, nobody knew she was carrying twins? How could Anakin and Padme not know? I guess that shows how involved they actually were in the pregnancy.
1) In ROJ, Luke asks Leia if she remembered their mother. She described her as "very beautiful, but very sad." How could she have remembered her mom if she died in childbirth?

Please, Star Wars fanatics out there, answer my questions. My knowledge is limited to the movies.

***

Carrie Underwood is the new Idol? Bah! Dapat si Bo Bice! Pero in fairness, bagay sila. I hope Bo and Carrie end up together! They look so cute together! I want them to become a couple.

The funny thing about the Idol finalists, they want to make it big in the music business, but they end up becoming famous because they're famous, not because of their music. The musical credibility of past winners have been practically nil. Kelly Clark is the only one I know who is approaching that place. Hope that changes with Bo.

Cosmic Girl

Slaving Away for Slave Leia

Cosplay fever. Lack sleep.

Can't watch the Revenge of the Sith tonight. My costume is only 40 percent done and if I ever hope to finish it in time for May 23, I have to put in a lot of muscle. The universe has conspired to allow me to finish my costume by cancelling my appointments for this week, and am racing feverishly to complete it.

I had a lot of trial and error making the costume, and admittedly, I kind of let other priorities take over the past weeks, hence the cram. Thankfully, my dad has supervised my progress and helped me create things here and there.

I learned that lacquer based paint and plastic insulation for wires don't mix. Stickwel Glue has proven once again that it really is god, and that oh, candle wax is a great substitute for molding clay!

Then yesterday, my cosplay cabinet collapsed. I've expected it for sometime now, since the assemble-it-yourself container I bought didn't seem to be made of the sturdiest materials. I guess the sheer weight of all my costumes and knick-knacks I've accumulated over the years have taken a toll. To count My costumes (costumes only, excluding the wigs and props) are:

From Cowboy Bebop: Faye Valentine and Electra Ovilo
From Anito: Maya and Tinio
Kill Bill: Gogo Yubari (yes, including the mace)
2 Kimonos: 1 yukata and my L5R Kachiko costume
A Spice Girl maxi-coat I made for a school production in 1998
Mimiru/Black Rose from //.hack
1 gothic lolita ensemble I designed.
A Sumomo (Chobits) costume my niece outgrew before she got a chance to wear it.
Sailor Mars
Aeon Fluxx
Kunoichi

Cosplay is really a guilty pleasure: I feel so guilty that I like it so much! Sometimes seeing suffering people make me feel guilty that I can afford to cosplay. Sometimes I feel that the money I spend cosplaying is better spent on other things. But I can't seem to stop! I like the fact that I learn that I am capable of doing things I previously thought I couldn't do. I made the front plate of the Slave costume all by myself! Hooray!

I thought that I would've outgrown the bug by now...but if anything, I've infected my other friends with the cosplay virus! It's great but in the same way...I kinda wish i could find something else more...adult to channel my creative energies to.

As for now...no time to waste. Gotta...finish...the...costume....

Sister Act

My sister and I fought constantly when we were younger. At home, there were hair-pulling, punching, slapping, and even biting matches over everything: toys, attention, sleeping space. Communicable childhood diseases were always a good excuse to keep us apart. My frustrated grandmother would always sigh, "Dapat sa inyo paghiwalayin."

My mother constantly compared me to my pretty sister, poised, popular and athletic. I was the apple of my grandparents' eyes, and she probably also resented the fact that I was their fair-haired child: well-read and articulate.

Battle lines were not only drawn at home, the tension was also palpable in school. I was Daria: The English Nerd perennially on the "Bookworm of the Month" list. She was Morgan: Always a cheerleader during sports events. I could not remember a time she wasn't at the hub of coolness of some sort. She is smart, but her social life got in the way of her studies. She always had boyfriends. People always compared us to each other. "Why can't you be pretty and fix yourself up like your sister?" they'd ask me. "Why is your sister such a weirdo?" they'd ask her.

I became a source of embarrassment for her, I think. I deliberately made myself the anti-thesis of her: I'd go to school in mis-matched socks, kept to myself. Whenever I'd go out, I would manage to find the most horrifying outfit you could conceive. (you won't find pictures of myself aged 14-16: Except for my school photos in uniform, I burned them all.)

I was so happy when college rolled along: I was finally free of her shadow. I became free to experiment, and forge my own identity, which I did, free of criticism and comparison. It was then that I began to see that she wasn't the monster I thought she was, and my distance from home and independence became a source of admiration for her.

I read a column in a paper wherein the writer postulated that it is wrong to absorb the traits of other people people for the sake of social acceptance since it dilutes your essence. Au contraire, my dearest. In my case, I became secure enough in my own identity to see that hey, looking presentable isn't as bad as I thought it was. What's wrong with emulating somebody when it helps make you a better person? Social acceptance wasn't my goal, but it came with my decision to befriend my sister. I saw that being into the things she was into didn't turn me into her clone. I soon became interested in *gasp* boys, clothes, shopping and make-up. Yessirree, I turned into a typical female. At age 17. (sad no?)

I started out clueless in what it took to become female. In the beginning, I was dependent on her for everything: borrowed her clothes, used her make-up. I admire my sister's fashion sense: She's so savvy that anything she wears now would be seen on TV six months to a year later. Yes, folks, very forward taste indeed. Whenever I have to be dolled up for an event, nobody touches my face except for my sister. Nobody can do my make-up without her present. She knows enough about the quirks of my face to know what would make me look good.

Now that she has to leave for the US soon *sniff sniff* I had to learn to pick my own clothes and put on my own make-up. For me, the highest compliment I could think of is my sister giving her stamp of approval on anything I wear or on my make-up that was done without her supervision. Not that I'm dependent on her approval, mind you. It's the feeling that a young Padawan gets when the Jedi Master says that you've come. It means that my sister can leave for the US without having to worry about me embarrassing myself inadvertently with my taste in clothes.

Yes my sister, I have arrived.

---

With this, I announce the beginning of a series of tutorials on make-up for those who are *ahem* kikay challenged? I will demonstrate basic make-up application for the dummies like myself who didn't bother to learn how to put on make-up until I had to learn it on my own. Better learn how to swim, folks, before the time comes when you to need a life jacket.

The tutorials will also feature "Guyspeak," a portion to wherein I'd translate the make-up application techniques to make it more digestible to the male mind. I will endorse products that I swear by at the moment. Suggestions from other females are very much welcome! We are all here to learn.

Jonas suggested that I come up with the series when I showed him my "arsenal." His eyes glazed over when I explained to him the mechanics and uses of the contents of my make-up kit. I held his hand as I re-assured him that make-up is not something to fear, and I helped de-mystify make-up and its application for him. I do understand that all those make-over shows can be intimidating in layering on make-up advice. So I will only feature products and applications that I use and works for me and my friends. Huwag kayong malula sa make-up. You don't have to listen to everything put out there! You don't have to buy everything that's advertised! Try on something. Buy it if you like it. Throw it out when it starts to smell. Otherwise, your drawers will resemble you'r mother's stained make-up dresser.

Till then.

And Good Triumphs Over Evil!

COngratulations!

THE RULES OF THE GAME

1) Married couples do better

2) There has to be a male in the group

3) Play fair

4) Support each other

5) Don't bicker

6) Don't be last

7) Slow but steady wins the race

SUKEBE!

Manila is crawling with perverts.

I have had pevert-stalkers experiences in the past, when strange men would follow me home and I had to take great lengths to hide my tracks so they wouldn't discover where I lived.

Monday last week. I was on my way home from work. I was wearing a pencil-cut miniskirt and heels. I was walking by the Enterprise building when I noticed a man walking beside me. I thought nothing of him since I assumed that he was a fellow pedestrian. He was in a red shirt, grey sleeves and jeans. He looked normal and decent. I noticed that he was headed toward the Greenbelt Starbucks, and I went along my merry way.

I was traversing Gamboa street when to my surprise, I found Mr. Pedestrian walking beside me.

"Miss, anong pangalan mo? San ka papunta?"

I gave him a sour smile and crossed the street. I noticed that he was tailing me until I reached Makati Square. Oh no, I'm nearing home. I need to ditch him fast.

I went into the Don Bosco Adoration Chapel. As I was crossing the street, Mr. Pedestrian turned left, back towards Makati Square. I decided not to take chances and waited inside the chapel for 15 minutes. I thought he was gone by the time I left.

I was walking past Don Bosco School when I felt somebody grab my butt. It was him! I wanted to give chase and kick his ass but I couldn't run very well in heels and a skirt. Besides, I was more concerned that he would follow me home.

Mr. Pedestrian crossed the street and actually waited to see what I would do next. I decided to go into Jollibee Walter Mart and ate what must have been the longest meal of my life. He didn't follow me inside. He can bet I would've called security. I spent around 45 minutes inside the mall before I ventured out. Hopefully, I lost him for good.

***

Today I received this very interesting e-mail. I guess I'm starting to develop a reputation (?)

"I took my hands and spread your legs,
pushing your dress up. My head lowered to your cunt, my fingers spreading you
wide, my tongue plunging deeply into you. You gasped with pleasure as I
continued. I slowly began to undo the buttons on your dress, my hands exploring.
I undid your bra, kissing your breasts, licking the nipples. You moaned as they
hardened, pressing yourself against my mouth. I lifted you from the
couch,letting your dress fall to the floor...(blah blah blah...)

Interested in having that experience
honey? Send me your contact information ... you'll never regret it :-) -Randy"

Wow. I'm actually curious to meet him. His profile reads : 35, Married, PhD in Mathematics, University of Kansas, IT somebody in Makati, yadda yadda. What does Mr. Repressed IT man want with me? And does he really have all those credentials?

On second thought...nah. Too risky. Too weird. Too married. Too psycho. I think he knows me from somewhere.

Of Art and Fearlessness

The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.--Sylvia Plath

What is art? Is it really just self-expression? Does art really carry a responsibility to engender a better society? with the purpose of relating to people at the most fundamentally human level?

I am caught between two opposing thoughts. As an artist, I want to push boundaries. At the same time, I don't want to step on other people's feelings.

My writing, my work, and my subject matters are very personal. In cosplaying, in whatever I do, I tend to give a lot of myself. That's the way I do things. I try not to do things half-way because to me, half-way is half-baked, and to give somebody a half-baked version of yourself is unfair. I write about the people I know, things I have been through. Though I make light of a lot my experiences, most of the situations that I write about were painful when it happened. My sense of humor or irony usually pulled me through.

Many a blogger has questioned when to draw the line in revealing information about themselves. How much is too much? How much of yourself are you willing to put on display?

Already, I have been asked by a friend whom I have written about to delete information in a post that included him. I told him that he doesn't have the right to ask that of me, since his marauding girlfriend involved me in that situation in the first place.

It is impractical to reveal too much of yourself, since people with unkind intentions may use that information against you. In my case, it is becoming almost impossible for me to remain anonymous. Most of the people who read my blog know me personally, and I have become acquainted with many of the people who were strangers to me when they first read my blog. It is a fine recipe for the unwitting trampling on sensibilities and sensitivities. Try as I might to limit my readership to a valued circle of friends and acquaintances, I know that posting my stories online also opens my life to strangers, thereby exposing myself to further judgment.

I never hold my opinions, my thoughts sacred, because I know that somewhere down the line I may change my mind. When I write, I write freely, simply. I call a spade a spade. Whatever is written is my opinion, my feeling at the time. I myself will evolve in time. Whatever I write is a snapshot of me at a time, a version of me that will never be the same thing at any other time in my life.

It is getting more difficult for me to post my misadventures without the fear of reprisal or judgment. I am a firm believer of respecting opinions, even those that are contrary to yours. But it doesn't mean that I am not hurt when I hear them, that I don't bleed when they're dished out. I am also not the sort to indiscriminately give away my thoughts. I don't belive in censorship, because I am a firm believer of personal responsibility, of facing the consequences of my actions.

I don't want to write a blog where I feel like I have to censor what I say because Joe Blow has trouble swallowing my opinons. However, I am also afraid that I might end up hurting people who are important to me because of what I say. I don't like lying, or obscuring myself but unfortunately, it is the grease that oils human relations. I think that a lot of my material comes from my unspoken opinions. Whatever I mouth off may be kind, or cruel, but whatever I come up with, I know that there will always be a backlash. Am I ready to face it? Is it worth the risk.

I wish I were as fearless, or as foolhardy, as Tracey Emin.

A Family That Travels Together...Must be Crazy

My family's sensibilities are undeniably middle class.

We spent the weekend at the Fiesta Resort and Casino, a swanky facility high in the mountains of Rizal. I didn't help my family pack since I arrived from my place in Makati on Saturday morning, a few hours before we were to leave. I stood there horrified as the bellhop unloaded eight huge overnight bags (including my own), two bilaos, one filled with pansit malabon and the other with puto, a huge Tupperware container of rice, another Tupperware containter filled with adobo from the trunk of our car. Japanese tourists eyed our full trolley curiously as it rolled by the front desk.

"Ano ba yan, nagdala pa kayo ng pagkain. Nakakahiya!"

To which my sister replied, "eh ano naman ngayon? Nakatipid tayo sa pagkain"

Oo nga naman.

----

My family usually books a room in hotels on birthdays and special occasions. An urban getaway, if you will. My mother's birthday this weekend was no different. After unpacking our things and inspecting our room, we almost immediately got into our swimsuits and headed out to the infinity pool. The vista of the lake from the mountain was very photogenic. My brother, his girlfriend and I immediately went trigger happy with the camera. Megalomanic thoughts entered my brain.

Wow. They denuded this mountain just for us.

Click click click.

----

I was later drafted to keep and eye on my niece and baby nephew, who were taking a dip in the kiddie pool. I thought it would be fun to put my nephew on top of the little inflatable floater and drag him across the pool. Big mistake. As soon as I put him on top of his inflatable island he went in the water head-first. I frantically caught his foot and pulled him up. I was so frightened as my stunned nephew started coughing up water as I pat his back. He cried for the next couple of minutes, and coughed up more baby spit in my hair. I was so relieved that he was all right. I'm not sure if the experience has turned him into a little Achilles, but I am sure that his mother will kill me if she found out. He clung onto me for dear life soon after that. I don't blame him. I felt like I was a bad aunt.

----

An hour later my mother took the baby back to the room for a nap. My brother, his girlfriend, my sister and I lazed in our lounge chairs, chatting as we watched the sun set . Though we had the place to ourselves, the light from the torches and the poolside tiki bar were ablaze. We swam, made fun of each other and sang loudly off-key along with the hip hop and RnB songs blaring from the speakers hidden in fiberglass rocks. My brother and his girlfriend tell me later that they saw a meteorite streak across the night sky.

----

We had dinner at a Chinese restaurant in the hotel. The food was great, the interiors were better: reds, browns and oranges gave the place a '60s retro vibe. Save for us, the place was also empty. The entire family exchanged banter. It was a good time.

We had to pass through the casino on the way back to our room. It was then when we learned where all the people were.

----

I slept early. The next morning, I wandered around and took more photos. We had to take off at noon.

In Binangonan, I saw two dinosaurs in front of a restaurant and the Statue of Liberty in front of a house. I was told that it was owned by the same person, who ran a business making fiberglass statues. I thought it was hilarious.

----

It was a long trip home. My mom wanted to visit some of our distant relatives who lived in Antipolo. We got lost somewhere in the maze of streets. We were all eager to go home, except for my mom. We didn't even know of these people were to feed us. The situation didn't look promising. My parents parked in front of a 7-11 and a Wendy's as they bickered on whether or not to visit these strange people. At the back of the car, our stomachs growled louder and louder.

"Enough!" I said "Sige, I'll pay for the meal muna. Ma, you can pay me later. Please, kumain muna tayo."

Us kids trooped to the Pizza Hut beside the Wendy's and ordered. My parents grudgingly followed us a few minutes later. After the meal, we got lost some more, before finally finding the place at around three p.m.

Hooray to me, the peacemaker.

When we got there, they plied us with fried chicken and sodas. Ugh.

----

These relatives were apparently so eager to meet us that they didn't let us leave until 6 p.m. We were quite happy to go, an exhausted, bedraggled bunch.

Traveling families are crazy, but have fun.

----

All the pretty pictures.