Sunday, November 02, 2008
Salon de Manga Barcelona
Just came back from Salon de Manga XIV and those two above just won the Cosplay Skit competition, the guys who will represent Spain in the World Cosplay Championships 2009 in Nagoya, Japan.
I can't help but think, wow, the Philippine cosplay community hasn't even sent any reps to the World Cosplay Championships. We can do so well, so much better than a lot of the acts that I saw. And Japan is so close!
A cosplay insider told me that it was only this year that Japan started accepting applications from countries instead of inviting countries to participate. The Philippines has a very well-developed and flourishing cosplay community, it's about time they recognized the Philippines!
Saturday, November 01, 2008
Let's Do The Time Warp Again!
Please please please, can I live here? Like, really? I am having so much fun and indulge in my geeky costuming nature here. *sigh* ayaw ni Thomas but there has got to be a way!
I had the most fun I have had in the last two years I've spent in Europe last night, at the Halloween screening of the Rocky Horror Picture show of the RHPS club. It's the first time in years that I joined a cosplay contest as Dita Von Teese (haha, well, if she were Asian). I loved the atmosphere, so unlike the competitive and insecure cosplay scene in Manila. Last night people talked back to the screen, recited lines, threw rice and confetti, and basically made RHPS an interactive experience! So goofy! It was like watching a movie in your friend's den, just that it filled the whole theatre. Everytime Janet showed up on screen, the crowd chanted ¡Zorra! (Bitch) and Brad ¡Gillipollas! (Asshole). God, I was orgasming geek last night as people came up with witty one liners in Spanish at the screen, the kind that someone came up two years ago and everybody would repeat hereonafter.
The winner of the cosplay contest was a woman with a pet rat and a gun. I think she's Sigourney Weaver in Aliens, but I am not sure. Help?
Monday, October 27, 2008
Gimme Freedom. Gimme Shelter.
One of the things that I like about my relationship with Thomas is that he gives me a lot of personal freedom to pursue my interests, something that I have always believed in and something that I reciprocate wholeheartedly. A lot of people, Germans and Asians alike, could not understand how I could spend three months here in Spain on my own volition, to pursue a dream, without having my husband constantly at my side. Or why am I willing to work and support our family in times that Thomas, who is also a freelancer, takes time off from his job to focus on his ideas (I am not kidding. As a kid Thomas's ambition was to be an "inventor").
As individuals, one of the most binding aspects of our relationship is that we both crave freedom. The freedom to be ourselves, and our dread of the stifling obligations that people expect from their partners when they are in a relationship. Actually, one of our biggest communication problems is that neither knows, or knows how to express in a way the other would understand, the personal boundaries that they have and wish that their partner would respect.
Not to say that we don't want a safe haven. Of course we want that the other person will remain a stable rock for the other.
It has come to a point where I am considering babies. Yes, babies. I see babies everywhere. I find them adorable. For many people, children cement a relationship. For some they are the catalyst for its unraveling. I think that our relationship can handle children. Thomas said that being the typical GDR kid, he is not averse to having children at such a young age. The catch is that it was only recently, he said, has he sensed my willingness to have children. He is right.
I look forward to having a bratty baby, then a bratty teenager, in the hopes and in my smugness that I will do a better job than my mom. Being a typical woman, I have imagined conversations with my future child and how I would raise him/her, give him/her "the talk" and how to handle issues.
I asked myself am I willing to raise this child as a single mother, if it comes to that. The answer is yes.
On the other hand, I also fear the loss of freedom. The loss of freedom to pursue my own interests because I have a child. It is true that it is easier to raise children in East Germany, for that I am thankful. Day care and Kindergartens till 4 p.m. is a blessing for parents. In the Philippines, I grew up with yayas or live-in nannys, so my mother definitely had enough time to be herself when she needed to be. One of my greatest fears that I might bite off more than I could chew and find out that I have too late. If I move to West Germany or any other country, how am I gonna deal with lack of child care? What about my plan to live in Japan for a year to learn Japanese? What's gonna become of that? I know I sound selfish but ultimately, wanting children is a selfish endeavor, and I think that wanted children are mostly better off than unplanned ones.
Anyway I know that children will restrict me in a lot of ways, it is up to me to still exercise my identity. I hope I I don't end up resenting my child for "lost opportunities" or stuff like that. Maybe I need to redefine the meaning of freedom. Basta.
As individuals, one of the most binding aspects of our relationship is that we both crave freedom. The freedom to be ourselves, and our dread of the stifling obligations that people expect from their partners when they are in a relationship. Actually, one of our biggest communication problems is that neither knows, or knows how to express in a way the other would understand, the personal boundaries that they have and wish that their partner would respect.
Not to say that we don't want a safe haven. Of course we want that the other person will remain a stable rock for the other.
It has come to a point where I am considering babies. Yes, babies. I see babies everywhere. I find them adorable. For many people, children cement a relationship. For some they are the catalyst for its unraveling. I think that our relationship can handle children. Thomas said that being the typical GDR kid, he is not averse to having children at such a young age. The catch is that it was only recently, he said, has he sensed my willingness to have children. He is right.
I look forward to having a bratty baby, then a bratty teenager, in the hopes and in my smugness that I will do a better job than my mom. Being a typical woman, I have imagined conversations with my future child and how I would raise him/her, give him/her "the talk" and how to handle issues.
I asked myself am I willing to raise this child as a single mother, if it comes to that. The answer is yes.
On the other hand, I also fear the loss of freedom. The loss of freedom to pursue my own interests because I have a child. It is true that it is easier to raise children in East Germany, for that I am thankful. Day care and Kindergartens till 4 p.m. is a blessing for parents. In the Philippines, I grew up with yayas or live-in nannys, so my mother definitely had enough time to be herself when she needed to be. One of my greatest fears that I might bite off more than I could chew and find out that I have too late. If I move to West Germany or any other country, how am I gonna deal with lack of child care? What about my plan to live in Japan for a year to learn Japanese? What's gonna become of that? I know I sound selfish but ultimately, wanting children is a selfish endeavor, and I think that wanted children are mostly better off than unplanned ones.
Anyway I know that children will restrict me in a lot of ways, it is up to me to still exercise my identity. I hope I I don't end up resenting my child for "lost opportunities" or stuff like that. Maybe I need to redefine the meaning of freedom. Basta.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
So Today Is Your Birthday
Thanks for everybody who greeted me during my birthday! How did I celebrate it? Well, I just had the most kick-ass party to be ever had for my birthday! I cooked Philippine rice noodles and spring rolls, and served super yummy chocolate cake from the baker next door.
I have to say, it was one of the coolest parties I've attended. It was fun, it was chill, it was organic. The best part is that it was my party and I organized it myself! Well, to be honest, it organized itself. A happy flood of coincidences made my party special. My brother-in-law and a friend of his are here on vacation. Thomas came to visit, and Thomas's best friend was also here for a month-long internship at the local hospital! WOOT! How cool is that to not be alone in a foreign country during your birthday, with people you know? Then I invited a couple of people I have gotten to know here in Barcelona, and what happened next was soo amazing. There were at least five different languages spoken at the party, and no, English was not THE language that dominated. The German delegation were so relaxed that when my roomate's dog started humping Adi's (my BIL's friend) leg, we all laughed so hard! Even Adi! I guess we got a bit too noisy because our neighbors showed their displeasure, Barcelona-style.
They dropped a water balloon made out of a supermarket plastic bag on our patio. Priceless.
After that, Thomas and I spent two cloudy but relaxing days at Lloret de Mar, chilling and clubbing with all the unhip Russian kids and English chavs and their unhip music. After that we spent a brilliant Sunday afternoon in Casteldefells.
It was a great birthday, but Woof, I'll be 30 next year! I'm thinking that next year will be the last birthday where I will reveal my real age to people who don't know me!
Friday, October 10, 2008
Homeland vs. Motherland: Celebrities
I was walking along Gran Via de Catalanes when I stopped and did a double take: Cherie Gil, is dat chu?
Her name is Gemma Mengual and she's a famous synchronized swimmer born in Barcelona. She's famous, as in kaliwa't kanan ang endorsements, akala mo si Kris Aquino. She competed in the last Olympics.
Here's Cherie
A Filipina actress of Spanish-German descent, she is very famous for her to the hilt contravida (villainess) roles.
VERDICT: "You are nothing but a second rate, trying hard copycat!" Sorry hindi ko feel and teefs ni Gemma.
Her name is Gemma Mengual and she's a famous synchronized swimmer born in Barcelona. She's famous, as in kaliwa't kanan ang endorsements, akala mo si Kris Aquino. She competed in the last Olympics.
Here's Cherie
A Filipina actress of Spanish-German descent, she is very famous for her to the hilt contravida (villainess) roles.
VERDICT: "You are nothing but a second rate, trying hard copycat!" Sorry hindi ko feel and teefs ni Gemma.
Sunday, October 05, 2008
Homeland vs. Motherland: Ensai(y)mada
Since the Philippines used to be a Spanish colony, we have a lot of things in common with the Spanish. Words, traditions,culture have transferred, mutated, and have become uniquely Filipino.
While here, I'll be running a series called Homeland vs. Motherland. Basically, comparing things that exist in both countries, and judging which is better. I hope rabid nationalists won't object to me naming Spain as Motherland, but in a lot of cases it is true, and we do owe some aspects of our culture to the colonial period, indelible and undeniable. Other suggestions are welcome!
Ok first up is ensaymada.
The Spanish ensaimada is a creature similar to the Filipino ensaymada, except that it is fluffier, more like a croissant. It is either glazed or covered in powedered sugar.
(From Tagaytay econoinn website. Fair use po!)
Like what Carlos Celdran says in his tour, the Filipinos tend to overdecorate and overdo everything. Ensaymadas in the Philippines not only have a layer of granulated sugar over it, even the most bakya versions have a thick layer of Star Margarine over it (for non-Pinoys, it is the most artificial tasting yellow lard that passes for margarine in the Philippines). In the fancier versions, grated cheese and even itlog na maalat (month-old eggs pickled in salt) feature on the ensaymada. The fluffier versions (like Mulach Ensaymadas) are similar to the ones in Spain, but they are much softer, and less flaky than the Spanish Ensaimada.
VERDICT: Pinoy Ensaymada FTW! Mas nakakabusog!
While here, I'll be running a series called Homeland vs. Motherland. Basically, comparing things that exist in both countries, and judging which is better. I hope rabid nationalists won't object to me naming Spain as Motherland, but in a lot of cases it is true, and we do owe some aspects of our culture to the colonial period, indelible and undeniable. Other suggestions are welcome!
Ok first up is ensaymada.
The Spanish ensaimada is a creature similar to the Filipino ensaymada, except that it is fluffier, more like a croissant. It is either glazed or covered in powedered sugar.
(From Tagaytay econoinn website. Fair use po!)
Like what Carlos Celdran says in his tour, the Filipinos tend to overdecorate and overdo everything. Ensaymadas in the Philippines not only have a layer of granulated sugar over it, even the most bakya versions have a thick layer of Star Margarine over it (for non-Pinoys, it is the most artificial tasting yellow lard that passes for margarine in the Philippines). In the fancier versions, grated cheese and even itlog na maalat (month-old eggs pickled in salt) feature on the ensaymada. The fluffier versions (like Mulach Ensaymadas) are similar to the ones in Spain, but they are much softer, and less flaky than the Spanish Ensaimada.
VERDICT: Pinoy Ensaymada FTW! Mas nakakabusog!
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
The Towering Castells of Catalunya
A lot of things move me to tears. Lately, the realization of a dream made my eyeballs moisten.
You see, as a young girl growing up and dreaming of adventure, I had always wanted to watch the Castellers of Spain do their thing, live. I saw it once on the Discovery Channel one day, and thought, wow, I would like to be part of that.
I am so happy to be able to witness the Castellers, live! And I am so grateful to have an old Catalunyan by my side actually explain the whys and hows of the Castellers, who are just so amazing. A devoted fan of the practice, he even gave me a hand-out of the different formations and explanations in English and German, and we spoke in a mish-mash of Spanish and English.
I wish you were here with me to see this
Molts Merces, Catalunya! Featured are the Minyons de Terrassa.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
We're Not Gonna Pay/This or Last Year's Rent
Well, living in Barcelona is definitely giving me the vibe that I am in New York City. Had an interesting fiasco with getting my keys, had to schlepp my ass halfway across the city to get it. Then I find out on the second day that I am living in an illegal sublet (super: who are you? my roommate. I live here! super: you're not in the contract!) So they know that she lives there but they don't know that I do. So if anybody asks, I'm the cleaning lady. If there's a time to capitalize on a stereotype, this is the time. Meanwhile, the German girl who actually rented out the place is still in Germany.
I am having a grand ole time, out all night wrecking havoc on the city, I came home one fine 2 a.m. to the sound of my hot roomie having sex with her second boyfriend. I have seen sex before, but it seems so invasive to listen to someone who doesn't want you to listen. Somehow the thump thump thump of the headboards and their ughs ugh ugh made me feel like I was 10 again in my bedroom praying for the love of god, please make my parents STOP so I went to bed without peeing and brushing my teeth.
Yup, life is interesting and I spend my free time at the beach. Dear J. I am a convert. Germany does suck.
I am having a grand ole time, out all night wrecking havoc on the city, I came home one fine 2 a.m. to the sound of my hot roomie having sex with her second boyfriend. I have seen sex before, but it seems so invasive to listen to someone who doesn't want you to listen. Somehow the thump thump thump of the headboards and their ughs ugh ugh made me feel like I was 10 again in my bedroom praying for the love of god, please make my parents STOP so I went to bed without peeing and brushing my teeth.
Yup, life is interesting and I spend my free time at the beach. Dear J. I am a convert. Germany does suck.
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
If I Were White
Whenever I am at the receiving end of some sort of injustice, I always ask myself: Would this person have done the same thing if I were white? If yes, I let it go. If not, I feel really sad because I know that I cannot change this person's prejudices whatever I do.
My Father-in-Law and I have not had the easiest of relationships. He didn't sign the affidavit of support I needed to get to Germany. I understood his skepticism. I mean, I am this Asian girl he doesn't know from Adam, and he has to theoretically shell out 600 euros a month in case I didn't make it here. Besides, Thomas also had a history of being enthusiastic about something at the beginning, then plateuing at the end. Who knew that this wasn't some short-lived romance?
His current partner is not the monster my MIL portrays her to be. She is quite nice, and we get along well. In fact, I took her, and not my MIL, to go wedding dress shopping because she's more kikay like that. My MIL is not the fashionista.
I dozed off for a few minutes on my reclining chair after having brunch with them and Thomas last Saturday. I was in that hazy area between sleep and consciousness when I heard my FIL refer to me as the "Hausdame." (Housekeeper). I didn't catch the first part of the sentence. It could be in reference to the constant jabs I make at Thomas because he rarely keeps house. I feigned sleep as I heard his partner say that I am his fifth child, in reference to her two biological children and his two biological children.
Then they dropped the subject. I decided to "wake up" a few minutes later.
The question now is, should I let this go?
My Father-in-Law and I have not had the easiest of relationships. He didn't sign the affidavit of support I needed to get to Germany. I understood his skepticism. I mean, I am this Asian girl he doesn't know from Adam, and he has to theoretically shell out 600 euros a month in case I didn't make it here. Besides, Thomas also had a history of being enthusiastic about something at the beginning, then plateuing at the end. Who knew that this wasn't some short-lived romance?
His current partner is not the monster my MIL portrays her to be. She is quite nice, and we get along well. In fact, I took her, and not my MIL, to go wedding dress shopping because she's more kikay like that. My MIL is not the fashionista.
I dozed off for a few minutes on my reclining chair after having brunch with them and Thomas last Saturday. I was in that hazy area between sleep and consciousness when I heard my FIL refer to me as the "Hausdame." (Housekeeper). I didn't catch the first part of the sentence. It could be in reference to the constant jabs I make at Thomas because he rarely keeps house. I feigned sleep as I heard his partner say that I am his fifth child, in reference to her two biological children and his two biological children.
Then they dropped the subject. I decided to "wake up" a few minutes later.
The question now is, should I let this go?
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Could the conductors track you down if you give them a fake address
The straßenbahn conductors caught me today, gave me a 40 euro ticket. I remembered too late that I have the stamp on ticket today and not the monatskarte, which you just have to show. My karte expired two days ago, so I bought the vierer karte yesterday. I was about to stamp it when the checker covered the machine and said that I had to pay. I guess he really needed the money to make the quota.
They asked for cash, I didn't have any. They asked for my passport, I said I didn't have it (although I did), and gave them my insurance card instead. I decided at the last minute to lie, so I named the address three doors down.
I tore the ticket to shreds before I got home. Fuckers.
They asked for cash, I didn't have any. They asked for my passport, I said I didn't have it (although I did), and gave them my insurance card instead. I decided at the last minute to lie, so I named the address three doors down.
I tore the ticket to shreds before I got home. Fuckers.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Friday, August 15, 2008
iOVAYA!
A plea for help: Does anybody here know anybody in Barcelona, (as in Spain, not Zamboanga)? Are you currently living in Barcelona? If so, please contact me! I am pulling hairs because I still don't have an apartment in Barcelona. I am leaving on the 31st of August, arriving in Barcelona at 1 pm. I would really like to have an apartment by then, weil kein Bok habe 20 euro pro tag für ein Bett zu zahlen.
End of ad.
On the topic, here's a very funny ad from Spain!
End of ad.
On the topic, here's a very funny ad from Spain!
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
Prague
Went to Prague and tried to do it in a day--never again!
Anyhoo, I will go back in May with my friends, and I would definitely check out the Museum of Sex Machines and the Museum of Medieval Torture. That's the great thing about living in Europe! Proximity to amazing cities, and crazy museums.
National Museum,Prague
King Wenceslas Statue
Wide Boulevards
Prague may suffer from poor urban planning, but its beauty are in its details.
Tyn Church
Tower where the Astronomical clock is located.
Loved the intricate design on the door.
The clock itself.
Museum beside the Clock
Fountain near the clock
Tower at the start of the St. Charles's Bridge
Sts. Norbert, Wenceslas and Sigismond on the bridge
Anyhoo, I will go back in May with my friends, and I would definitely check out the Museum of Sex Machines and the Museum of Medieval Torture. That's the great thing about living in Europe! Proximity to amazing cities, and crazy museums.
National Museum,Prague
King Wenceslas Statue
Wide Boulevards
Prague may suffer from poor urban planning, but its beauty are in its details.
Tyn Church
Tower where the Astronomical clock is located.
Loved the intricate design on the door.
The clock itself.
Museum beside the Clock
Fountain near the clock
Tower at the start of the St. Charles's Bridge
Sts. Norbert, Wenceslas and Sigismond on the bridge
Saturday, August 02, 2008
Dopen oder Nicht Dopen?
Ich war total langeweilt letzter Mittwoch als mein Mann das Fernseher nicht umschalten möchte. Ich wollte einen Dokumentarfilm über gemischte Ehepaaren hier in Deutschland, er wollte aber einen Film über Die Olympiade, besonders über Doping, gucken.
"Das ist total dumm," sagte ich. "Sie sollten eigentlich Doping legal machen, weil Sie alle eh dopen."
Auf Tagalog, werde ich sagen "nagpantig ang tenga ni Thomas." Er hat mich gestarrt und hat fast geschrien "Was? wie so kannst du das sagen! Natürlich sollte das illegal werden! Sie stellen ein schlechtes Beispiel für die Kinder! Das schadet doch anderen Leute!"
Ok relax Mann. Ich wusste, dass Thomas, damals ein Leistunsgssprortler war, und sich besonders an Fahhradfahren interessiert, wird meine Meinung nicht nehmen.
"Andere Leute nicht schaden? Wie bitte? Was ist dann mit deinem 'jointily-ointily'?"
"Ich schade dadurch niemand."
"Aha. Und was dann mit Rauchen? Sie haben das wieder in Kneipen erlaubt. Wenn Eltern rauchen, sie sind auch ein schlechtes Vorbild für ihren Kinder, und sie schaden doch viele Leute mit dem Qualm."
"Naja, aber Doping ist tödlich..."
"Und Rauchen? Ist das nicht tödlich für den Raucher und die Leute herum?"
"Naja, aber das ist doch unfair für die Leute, die nicht dopen."
"Hallo, wenn Doping erlaubt ist, dann alle werden Dopen, und dann wird das wieder fair, und ehrlicher. Kuck mal Amerika an in den 20ger Jahren, sie hatten Prohibition vergeblich eingesetzt."
Also, wir hatten uns dann für ewig diskutiert. Was denken Sie dann it Doping?
"Das ist total dumm," sagte ich. "Sie sollten eigentlich Doping legal machen, weil Sie alle eh dopen."
Auf Tagalog, werde ich sagen "nagpantig ang tenga ni Thomas." Er hat mich gestarrt und hat fast geschrien "Was? wie so kannst du das sagen! Natürlich sollte das illegal werden! Sie stellen ein schlechtes Beispiel für die Kinder! Das schadet doch anderen Leute!"
Ok relax Mann. Ich wusste, dass Thomas, damals ein Leistunsgssprortler war, und sich besonders an Fahhradfahren interessiert, wird meine Meinung nicht nehmen.
"Andere Leute nicht schaden? Wie bitte? Was ist dann mit deinem 'jointily-ointily'?"
"Ich schade dadurch niemand."
"Aha. Und was dann mit Rauchen? Sie haben das wieder in Kneipen erlaubt. Wenn Eltern rauchen, sie sind auch ein schlechtes Vorbild für ihren Kinder, und sie schaden doch viele Leute mit dem Qualm."
"Naja, aber Doping ist tödlich..."
"Und Rauchen? Ist das nicht tödlich für den Raucher und die Leute herum?"
"Naja, aber das ist doch unfair für die Leute, die nicht dopen."
"Hallo, wenn Doping erlaubt ist, dann alle werden Dopen, und dann wird das wieder fair, und ehrlicher. Kuck mal Amerika an in den 20ger Jahren, sie hatten Prohibition vergeblich eingesetzt."
Also, wir hatten uns dann für ewig diskutiert. Was denken Sie dann it Doping?
Monday, July 14, 2008
Be Sweet by the Afghan Whigs
Ladies, let me tell you about myself
I got a dick for a brain
And my brain is gonna sell my ass to you
Now I'm OK, but in time I'll find I'm stuck
'Cause she wants love, and I still want to fuck
Now that I'm ashamed, it burns
But the weight is off
Now that you're out of the way
I turn and I can walk
You showed no sympathy, my love
And this was no place for you and me to walk alone
On my grave, am I OK?
I'm sure I'm not
Ladies let me tell you about my love
She kept giving me more
But it wasn't enough
So understand
Now that I come to you
To understand my little self
To understand my little self
And baby you be sweet
I got a dick for a brain
And my brain is gonna sell my ass to you
Now I'm OK, but in time I'll find I'm stuck
'Cause she wants love, and I still want to fuck
Now that I'm ashamed, it burns
But the weight is off
Now that you're out of the way
I turn and I can walk
You showed no sympathy, my love
And this was no place for you and me to walk alone
On my grave, am I OK?
I'm sure I'm not
Ladies let me tell you about my love
She kept giving me more
But it wasn't enough
So understand
Now that I come to you
To understand my little self
To understand my little self
And baby you be sweet
Let's Talk Shop
I am to be found banging my head against the wall. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Why am I stupid? Cause I am crap at negotiations.
I am a crap businesswoman. I am the sort who would buy a piece of candy wholesale for 50 cents a piece and sell it for 25 retail.
Let's start with School A. I have been working for B for two years now as a freelance English Teacher. The pay is crap, around 12.50 an hour. I say crap because compared to other language schools, who pay freelancers 18 an hour, you would say that I am getting the short end of the stick. However, the fact I can roll out of bed and teach because I've got the material down pat and don't have to spend hours preparing for the lesson counts for something. The fact that I am also paid a unit for a test I didn't even write is a major plus.
School B is a trade school that I started working for last March. I asked for 24 an hour, they said that all they could offer me is 18 during the probationary period. I said ok.
But shit it is GD hard work.I spend as much time in the classroom as I do preparing for lessons and checking homework. I earn 9 euros effectively, as I put so much effing work into each effing lesson.
I had renegotiations today and I blew it. I settled for effing 20 an hour, which was they made clear at the very beginning was how much they were willing to pay. I don't mean to sound greedy, but geez I am basically settling for so much work, and I have to pay for my own health insurance and taxes. She started by already planning out the next semester, before talking about pay. I mean, I am very interested in what I am going to teach there, it's more challenging than the grammar shit I do at school A. I really need to get rid of this Filipino thing of being afraid to talk about money.
Aaargh, I just think money is money, no matter the source and the work I did to get it. But sometimes I wonder if I always sell myself short?
Why am I stupid? Cause I am crap at negotiations.
I am a crap businesswoman. I am the sort who would buy a piece of candy wholesale for 50 cents a piece and sell it for 25 retail.
Let's start with School A. I have been working for B for two years now as a freelance English Teacher. The pay is crap, around 12.50 an hour. I say crap because compared to other language schools, who pay freelancers 18 an hour, you would say that I am getting the short end of the stick. However, the fact I can roll out of bed and teach because I've got the material down pat and don't have to spend hours preparing for the lesson counts for something. The fact that I am also paid a unit for a test I didn't even write is a major plus.
School B is a trade school that I started working for last March. I asked for 24 an hour, they said that all they could offer me is 18 during the probationary period. I said ok.
But shit it is GD hard work.I spend as much time in the classroom as I do preparing for lessons and checking homework. I earn 9 euros effectively, as I put so much effing work into each effing lesson.
I had renegotiations today and I blew it. I settled for effing 20 an hour, which was they made clear at the very beginning was how much they were willing to pay. I don't mean to sound greedy, but geez I am basically settling for so much work, and I have to pay for my own health insurance and taxes. She started by already planning out the next semester, before talking about pay. I mean, I am very interested in what I am going to teach there, it's more challenging than the grammar shit I do at school A. I really need to get rid of this Filipino thing of being afraid to talk about money.
Aaargh, I just think money is money, no matter the source and the work I did to get it. But sometimes I wonder if I always sell myself short?
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
Wir Sind Vom Selben Stern
I have always had what my husband considers an unhealthy fascination for homosexuals. I am myself not one, but I have always been strongly attracted to, or completely at ease with, homosexuals.
I started to read up on FTM (female to male) transgendered people. I was randomly surfing the net two years ago when I came across Buck Angel, a former model turned porn star and FTM advocate, and I was hooked. Even before that guy in Oregon got pregnant, before I saw Boys Don't Cry and Transamerica, I was fascinated at how people can transform their outward appearance to suit how they wanted to look, of how your life choices and lifestyle affect your body.
It is unfortunate that I lump transgendered people with gay people. They are obviously not the same thing, but my point is that I am pretty open-minded and well-informed when it comes to people with sexuality or gender-identity differences.
I recently discovered that one of my good friends is a MTF transgendered person. An acquaintance had a Freudian slip (? I don't really believe that it was accidental), and told me. I was quite shocked, but I acted as if I suspected all along. I mean, I've always noticed that her hips were so slender for a woman. But then again, many women have slender hips.
I really had no inkling that she was transgendered. Honestly, it does't matter to me, she is still a person after all, deserving to be treated with respect and dignity. It really wasn't nice of the person to reveal this tidbit to me. I would have preferred for the truth to come out of the horse's mouth. Now I am left wondering how to act when we meet again. Of course, she would notice something amiss if I treat her differently. Should I continue the charade of pretending that she was born female? What if I tread upon a topic that inadvertently steps on her feelings? There was this one time when we talked about anal sex, and she seemed awfully quiet.
How should I react when, in her own due time,she decides to reveal to me her origins? How do I react? Should I ask questions? Should I pretend indifference? I will accept her all the same, but the method of my acceptance could be something that could make or break our friendship. She is a lovely person, and I don't want to say the wrong thing.
Only time can tell, right?
I started to read up on FTM (female to male) transgendered people. I was randomly surfing the net two years ago when I came across Buck Angel, a former model turned porn star and FTM advocate, and I was hooked. Even before that guy in Oregon got pregnant, before I saw Boys Don't Cry and Transamerica, I was fascinated at how people can transform their outward appearance to suit how they wanted to look, of how your life choices and lifestyle affect your body.
It is unfortunate that I lump transgendered people with gay people. They are obviously not the same thing, but my point is that I am pretty open-minded and well-informed when it comes to people with sexuality or gender-identity differences.
I recently discovered that one of my good friends is a MTF transgendered person. An acquaintance had a Freudian slip (? I don't really believe that it was accidental), and told me. I was quite shocked, but I acted as if I suspected all along. I mean, I've always noticed that her hips were so slender for a woman. But then again, many women have slender hips.
I really had no inkling that she was transgendered. Honestly, it does't matter to me, she is still a person after all, deserving to be treated with respect and dignity. It really wasn't nice of the person to reveal this tidbit to me. I would have preferred for the truth to come out of the horse's mouth. Now I am left wondering how to act when we meet again. Of course, she would notice something amiss if I treat her differently. Should I continue the charade of pretending that she was born female? What if I tread upon a topic that inadvertently steps on her feelings? There was this one time when we talked about anal sex, and she seemed awfully quiet.
How should I react when, in her own due time,she decides to reveal to me her origins? How do I react? Should I ask questions? Should I pretend indifference? I will accept her all the same, but the method of my acceptance could be something that could make or break our friendship. She is a lovely person, and I don't want to say the wrong thing.
Only time can tell, right?
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Berlin Noch Mal
Finally, Berlin in summer! I'm always in Berlin during the winter, and I finally got to do some sightseeing, and Berlin in summer ist noch wunderbarer! I went to Berlin to meet up with my childhood friend Yen, and we had a hoot! They left on Friday, and Thomas joined me on the same day.
Saya ng puro babae lang! Shopping galore! Walang panira eksena! Haha!
Sony Center Tourist Trap
What's left of the Berlin Wall, Potsdamer Platz
Me and Yen
Kaiser Wilhelm Gedächtnis Kirche, Ku'damm.
Bundestag. See the line? You can skip it if you have a kid with you.
Dome on the Bundestag
Charlie's Angels
Bundestag Interiors
Mukha siyang spaceship
Brandenburger Tor
Typical GDR Apartment, DDR Museum
Lashingan with Yen and Carsten
Their last day, I was missing them already. So much fun!
Thomas at Alexanderplatz
Knut ist cute!
Thomas having a staring match with his brother at the Berlin Zoo.
Sa uulitin!
Saya ng puro babae lang! Shopping galore! Walang panira eksena! Haha!
Sony Center Tourist Trap
What's left of the Berlin Wall, Potsdamer Platz
Me and Yen
Kaiser Wilhelm Gedächtnis Kirche, Ku'damm.
Bundestag. See the line? You can skip it if you have a kid with you.
Dome on the Bundestag
Charlie's Angels
Bundestag Interiors
Mukha siyang spaceship
Brandenburger Tor
Typical GDR Apartment, DDR Museum
Lashingan with Yen and Carsten
Their last day, I was missing them already. So much fun!
Thomas at Alexanderplatz
Knut ist cute!
Thomas having a staring match with his brother at the Berlin Zoo.
Sa uulitin!
Thursday, June 05, 2008
Germany's Next Top Model: Recap
Ohne Zweifel, die dritte Staffel von Germany's Next Top Model ist das beste von allen! Die Challenges sind echt interessant und realistisch. Ich kann diese Challenges als echtem Modelingjobs vorstellen! Production values sind sehr hoch, nicht wie beim Tyra Banks. GNTM ist uberhaupt kein Verglich zu ANTM! Ehrlich! Und ich war eine damalige Zuschauerin bei ANTM!
Viele von den letzten 12 Kandidatinnen haben echt gute Chancen, Models zu werden, mit oder ohne GNTM. Sie sind sehr gut ausgewählt
UPDATE: Das WUsste Ich Doch!
Ich wusste doch das die Jenny gewinnt! An der letzen Sendung haben sie Jenny gebeten, ein anderes Kleid anzuziehen! Genau so wie Barbara letztes Jahr!Bei Anschau von dem Cosmo Shoot hatte nur Jenny den Cosmo Titel hinter ihr!
Naja, Obwohl die Janina ein sehr gutes Modell ist, Jenny ist junger, und in dem Modelgeschäft je junger desto besser, weil die Modelagentur mehr geld von ihr gewinnen kann. Sie verkörpert auch den Trend in der Modellwelt, androgeny, und ich glaube, dass die GNTM Jury wollte dran einkassieren und eine Konkurrentin für Agyness Deyn bewerben.
Janina hat bestimmt eine ganz gute Zukunft als Modell, obwohl sie den Titel nicht hat, selbst die Giselle, so verhasst wie sie ist, hat etwas, an X Factor, und wird auch Modell. Die Christina war eine unerwartete Kandidatin in dritte Platz, aber GNTM möchte immer jemand dabei haben, die sich von Maus zum Löwe entwickeln wurde. Sie haben vielleicht an Sarah gehofft, aber wir wissen wie das geklappt hat...Aber sie hat ihren Platz verdient, muss ich dazu geben.
Sehr gut gemacht, Heidi!
Viele von den letzten 12 Kandidatinnen haben echt gute Chancen, Models zu werden, mit oder ohne GNTM. Sie sind sehr gut ausgewählt
UPDATE: Das WUsste Ich Doch!
Ich wusste doch das die Jenny gewinnt! An der letzen Sendung haben sie Jenny gebeten, ein anderes Kleid anzuziehen! Genau so wie Barbara letztes Jahr!Bei Anschau von dem Cosmo Shoot hatte nur Jenny den Cosmo Titel hinter ihr!
Naja, Obwohl die Janina ein sehr gutes Modell ist, Jenny ist junger, und in dem Modelgeschäft je junger desto besser, weil die Modelagentur mehr geld von ihr gewinnen kann. Sie verkörpert auch den Trend in der Modellwelt, androgeny, und ich glaube, dass die GNTM Jury wollte dran einkassieren und eine Konkurrentin für Agyness Deyn bewerben.
Janina hat bestimmt eine ganz gute Zukunft als Modell, obwohl sie den Titel nicht hat, selbst die Giselle, so verhasst wie sie ist, hat etwas, an X Factor, und wird auch Modell. Die Christina war eine unerwartete Kandidatin in dritte Platz, aber GNTM möchte immer jemand dabei haben, die sich von Maus zum Löwe entwickeln wurde. Sie haben vielleicht an Sarah gehofft, aber wir wissen wie das geklappt hat...Aber sie hat ihren Platz verdient, muss ich dazu geben.
Sehr gut gemacht, Heidi!
Friday, May 30, 2008
Welcome to Hell. Enjoy Your Stay!
Warning: Adult Content
I had been dying to visit the The Kit Kat ever since the very gay Adam told me about it. He went there to go to the Hustlaball.
So when a couple of friends of mine told me that they were going to Berlin, I took the opportunity to arrange a visit. At around this time, Thomas was getting a bit antsy about our sex life, and had begun to cajole me to try a threesome.
"I don't want to do a threesome," I said. "I don't need it, and if ever I do it, I'd like guy-guy-girl, not girl-girl-guy!"
"But c'mon it's really gonna be fun! I mean, I have slept with so few women..."
Aha. So he's looking for a loophole in the fidelity part of I do.
"But I've slept with enough people, I really don't have the need to sleep around any longer. Besides, the mere thought of licking a woman's pussy disgusts me!"
"God, since when have you been so boring?"
What? The temerity of this asshole. I'm the one who's not getting her thrice weekly expected marital obligations, and you call me BORING?!!
I signed us up at Craiglist that very night.
* * *
I did some very thorough research before going into the club. What to expect, and so on. It was "lack and leather" night,so I dropped 100 euros at a sex shop while I was in Berlin for a pleather dress. It's very cute, but it also screams whore.
Thomas was a bit upset when i told him I wanted to go into the club with my visiting friends, so I changed my mind and told him we could go there to look for our "bi curious femme."
Around this time, I also read up on threesomes, the mechanics, how it happens. I read a lot of Savage Love, interviewed people who have participated in threesomes.
We rented a moderately expensive room at a hotel that night in anticipation. I was quite disappointed that Thomas failed to prepare for "the big night." I mean, I was merely curious, he was in search of somebody. He wore his same old business suit.
Saturday. We stand in front of the door, and were required to show what we had underneath our coats. "You know that this is the Kit Kat Club and what it stands for..." said the door bitch.
I unbuttoned my trench. She nodded approvingly. 10 euros, our signature in a sheet of paper titled "Association of Hedonists," and we were in.
The sprawling Kit Kat Club had four bars, so many dance floors, a "couple's room," and a swimming pool, which was closed for that night. Looking at the red lights and the neon flourescent images of fornicating people on the walls, I was reminded of how hell was presented to us in Catholic school.
Everybody's weird fetishes were welcome. And I believe I saw it all. We watched a bondage show. I saw very young, and very cute twinks. A naked, faded hippie with long, gray hair alternately smoked, danced, and masturbated on stage. A handsome young man started dancing, took off his jacket, and revealed a nice set of breasts. A young man in a wheelchair, his emaciated limbs painting day-glo flowers on women's breasts and taking photos of it. A woman who had Dolly Parton ambitions.
All possible sexual permutations, outside of beast-human, were well represented. Man-woman, Dom-Slave, Man-Man, Woman-Woman, Man-Woman-woman, who knows what else.
It was quite apparent who were newbies there. There were a lot of couples who I guess were also looking for their bi curious male or female who seemed weirded out by the sex that surrounded them. I guess when they wanted to fuck somebody else,they didn't contend with the methods that they had to go through to get them. They all stood in the corner, huddled like little bunnies, eyes wide as saucers.
As for me, I enjoyed myself thoroughly. A man and a woman started fucking right before me. To be honest, I was so turned on that I wanted to jump in.
"Kiss me," I ordered Thomas. "Play with my tits." All he could do was oblige me with lukewarm effort. I could see that all this sex was too hardcore for Thomas. He had the bunny look, too. So I pushed Thomas away and continued watching the intertwined couple with fascination reserved for animals in a zoo.
* * *
At the beginning of the night, Thomas and I began scoping the territory for a potential partner.
"How about that blonde?" He asked.
"Naah. Too many teeth."
We both fancied one of the barmaids, a topless Betty Page lookalike in a corset.
So we went back to the chill-out lounge and started discussing our strategy when the blonde sat behind us and lit a joint.
"Is that a joint I smell?" I asked, and started the ball rolling. She was friendly enough, offered to share the joint. She wasn't interested, she said, she had a boyfriend. We looked at her skeptically, and she shrugged. "After all, this is the Kit Kat. Alles kann, nichts muss."
After a couple of hours we still hadn't found anybody. I started getting frustrated. "Look Thomas, if we aren't hitting on anybody, we might as well go home."
"Well, why aren't you hitting on anybody as well?"
"Are you kidding me? I asked her, she wasn't interested. It's your turn now."
"But it's easier for you!"
"Hey buddy, you wanted it, you go get it. I have made everything so easy for you. I arranged for us to go here, I've hit on somebody. You can't expect me to serve up everything for you on a silver platter."
"But you're pressuring me. It's making everything so much harder!" He whined.
The barmaid came into the lounge. She's obviously on break, and is making small talk with the other bartender. "I'm going to the restroom," Thomas said. Wuss, I muttered in my head.
I wanted Thomas to do this himself, but I also wanted to make it easier for him. So I went to the bar and sat next to Ms. Page. She was speaking German to the bartender. I bided my time, ate some of the fruit from the fruit platter, looking at the woman.
Thomas came in, and saw me beside her. Make your move now, my eyes commanded.
Thomas stood between us...and did nothing. The barmaid obviously had a clue, because she told the bartender in English "I'll come an hour after now, during my next break."
She slinked off, and Thomas started to kick himself. "Why am I so chicken?!"
To this day I think that she said that for our benefit, and that she would've accomodated us, if we hadn't sussed out. "Let's go home," I said.
It was already light out when we left.
I had been dying to visit the The Kit Kat ever since the very gay Adam told me about it. He went there to go to the Hustlaball.
So when a couple of friends of mine told me that they were going to Berlin, I took the opportunity to arrange a visit. At around this time, Thomas was getting a bit antsy about our sex life, and had begun to cajole me to try a threesome.
"I don't want to do a threesome," I said. "I don't need it, and if ever I do it, I'd like guy-guy-girl, not girl-girl-guy!"
"But c'mon it's really gonna be fun! I mean, I have slept with so few women..."
Aha. So he's looking for a loophole in the fidelity part of I do.
"But I've slept with enough people, I really don't have the need to sleep around any longer. Besides, the mere thought of licking a woman's pussy disgusts me!"
"God, since when have you been so boring?"
What? The temerity of this asshole. I'm the one who's not getting her thrice weekly expected marital obligations, and you call me BORING?!!
I signed us up at Craiglist that very night.
* * *
I did some very thorough research before going into the club. What to expect, and so on. It was "lack and leather" night,so I dropped 100 euros at a sex shop while I was in Berlin for a pleather dress. It's very cute, but it also screams whore.
Thomas was a bit upset when i told him I wanted to go into the club with my visiting friends, so I changed my mind and told him we could go there to look for our "bi curious femme."
Around this time, I also read up on threesomes, the mechanics, how it happens. I read a lot of Savage Love, interviewed people who have participated in threesomes.
We rented a moderately expensive room at a hotel that night in anticipation. I was quite disappointed that Thomas failed to prepare for "the big night." I mean, I was merely curious, he was in search of somebody. He wore his same old business suit.
Saturday. We stand in front of the door, and were required to show what we had underneath our coats. "You know that this is the Kit Kat Club and what it stands for..." said the door bitch.
I unbuttoned my trench. She nodded approvingly. 10 euros, our signature in a sheet of paper titled "Association of Hedonists," and we were in.
The sprawling Kit Kat Club had four bars, so many dance floors, a "couple's room," and a swimming pool, which was closed for that night. Looking at the red lights and the neon flourescent images of fornicating people on the walls, I was reminded of how hell was presented to us in Catholic school.
Everybody's weird fetishes were welcome. And I believe I saw it all. We watched a bondage show. I saw very young, and very cute twinks. A naked, faded hippie with long, gray hair alternately smoked, danced, and masturbated on stage. A handsome young man started dancing, took off his jacket, and revealed a nice set of breasts. A young man in a wheelchair, his emaciated limbs painting day-glo flowers on women's breasts and taking photos of it. A woman who had Dolly Parton ambitions.
All possible sexual permutations, outside of beast-human, were well represented. Man-woman, Dom-Slave, Man-Man, Woman-Woman, Man-Woman-woman, who knows what else.
It was quite apparent who were newbies there. There were a lot of couples who I guess were also looking for their bi curious male or female who seemed weirded out by the sex that surrounded them. I guess when they wanted to fuck somebody else,they didn't contend with the methods that they had to go through to get them. They all stood in the corner, huddled like little bunnies, eyes wide as saucers.
As for me, I enjoyed myself thoroughly. A man and a woman started fucking right before me. To be honest, I was so turned on that I wanted to jump in.
"Kiss me," I ordered Thomas. "Play with my tits." All he could do was oblige me with lukewarm effort. I could see that all this sex was too hardcore for Thomas. He had the bunny look, too. So I pushed Thomas away and continued watching the intertwined couple with fascination reserved for animals in a zoo.
* * *
At the beginning of the night, Thomas and I began scoping the territory for a potential partner.
"How about that blonde?" He asked.
"Naah. Too many teeth."
We both fancied one of the barmaids, a topless Betty Page lookalike in a corset.
So we went back to the chill-out lounge and started discussing our strategy when the blonde sat behind us and lit a joint.
"Is that a joint I smell?" I asked, and started the ball rolling. She was friendly enough, offered to share the joint. She wasn't interested, she said, she had a boyfriend. We looked at her skeptically, and she shrugged. "After all, this is the Kit Kat. Alles kann, nichts muss."
After a couple of hours we still hadn't found anybody. I started getting frustrated. "Look Thomas, if we aren't hitting on anybody, we might as well go home."
"Well, why aren't you hitting on anybody as well?"
"Are you kidding me? I asked her, she wasn't interested. It's your turn now."
"But it's easier for you!"
"Hey buddy, you wanted it, you go get it. I have made everything so easy for you. I arranged for us to go here, I've hit on somebody. You can't expect me to serve up everything for you on a silver platter."
"But you're pressuring me. It's making everything so much harder!" He whined.
The barmaid came into the lounge. She's obviously on break, and is making small talk with the other bartender. "I'm going to the restroom," Thomas said. Wuss, I muttered in my head.
I wanted Thomas to do this himself, but I also wanted to make it easier for him. So I went to the bar and sat next to Ms. Page. She was speaking German to the bartender. I bided my time, ate some of the fruit from the fruit platter, looking at the woman.
Thomas came in, and saw me beside her. Make your move now, my eyes commanded.
Thomas stood between us...and did nothing. The barmaid obviously had a clue, because she told the bartender in English "I'll come an hour after now, during my next break."
She slinked off, and Thomas started to kick himself. "Why am I so chicken?!"
To this day I think that she said that for our benefit, and that she would've accomodated us, if we hadn't sussed out. "Let's go home," I said.
It was already light out when we left.
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