"Mommy, I feel hot."
"You ARE hot!"
BRB.
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
Friday, June 24, 2005
Urashii!
Mga kababawan ng isang anime otaku.
Urashi!!!
Ipapalabas na ang Cowboy Bebop sa Animax! Yess! Ibig sabihin pwede ko na uli ilabas yun Faye Valentine costume ko sa Animax Carnival!
Grabe that costume is a reminder of my "Cosplay-zilla" moment. Imagine, I spent P 5,000 because I was obsessed to get the character and costume exactly. I think I should revamp the costume. Watchathink? Should I re-do it in pleather or stretch leather na?
Yehey! Magagamit ko na sha uli! Yehey! Cowboy Bebop! One of the coolest anime ever!
Urashii!
Tapos, tapos, first time ko napanood yun Sayuki Reload: Gunlock sa Animax. Grabe, I know not watching it is blasphemy for someone who calls herself a Saiyuki fan, . Pero as in crush ko pa rin si Cho Hakkai!
Which Saiyuki character would sleep with you?
Bishie!!!
isa pa!
bishie uli!
Genjo Sanzo
Which Saiyuki Character are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
Genjo Sanzo--Work can get in the way sometimes, but
be patient and he will never leave you,
although he may be overly-short tempered.
Who is your Saiyuki boyfriend?
brought to you by Quizilla
CHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII~!!
Urashi!!!
Ipapalabas na ang Cowboy Bebop sa Animax! Yess! Ibig sabihin pwede ko na uli ilabas yun Faye Valentine costume ko sa Animax Carnival!
Grabe that costume is a reminder of my "Cosplay-zilla" moment. Imagine, I spent P 5,000 because I was obsessed to get the character and costume exactly. I think I should revamp the costume. Watchathink? Should I re-do it in pleather or stretch leather na?
Yehey! Magagamit ko na sha uli! Yehey! Cowboy Bebop! One of the coolest anime ever!
Urashii!
Tapos, tapos, first time ko napanood yun Sayuki Reload: Gunlock sa Animax. Grabe, I know not watching it is blasphemy for someone who calls herself a Saiyuki fan, . Pero as in crush ko pa rin si Cho Hakkai!
Which Saiyuki character would sleep with you?
Bishie!!!
isa pa!
bishie uli!
Genjo Sanzo
Which Saiyuki Character are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
Genjo Sanzo--Work can get in the way sometimes, but
be patient and he will never leave you,
although he may be overly-short tempered.
Who is your Saiyuki boyfriend?
brought to you by Quizilla
CHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII~!!
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
Why I'm Not Sold on the 'Yan ang Pinay' Movement
Some people may find it strange that I'm not all rah-rah about the "Yan ang Pinay" movement, since I'm usually a rabid supporter of causes on women, and I'm proud of being Filipino.
However, I don't--and I can't--subscribe to a cause that I feel is a quick reaction, a palliative, to yet another thing that happened to offend our prickly national pride, no matter how noble the intention is. I've seen this before in my line of work. Congressmen would quiclkly jump to the defense of the Filipino at the first report that we are being slighted by foreigners without verifying reports, often making a mountain out of a molehill.
First of all, what is the "negative" perception of Pinays? That we are sex objects? Mail Order brides? Domestic help? Sweetheart, Pinoy Pride aside, our country's sad economic reality has forced our people to migrate wholesale, much like the Irish during the turn of the 19th and 20th century. The world knows this. Sex object? What woman isn't a sex object, either willing or unwilling? Italian women don't mind their wholesale reputations as bombshells, do they? Bottom line, YAP will not solve this "negative" perception, nor is a step toward a solution. We cannot convince foreigners who have preconceptions of what a Pinay is even if he or she meets a Pinay who isn't a sex object, a domestic help, or a mail-order bride, even if he reads article after article on the virtues of the Filipina. Blogging about the Pinay will merely flood the web with more chatter.
Second, changing the definition of the label "Pinay" is merely the different side of the same coin. This still promotes the same "herd" mentality that promoted the "hostile" image in the first place. Intellectually, we know that not all the French are rude, Not all Englishmen have bad teeth, not all Japanese have a driven work ethic. Good or bad, a label is a label. I don't think all foreigners are stupid enough to judge an entire race of women because of the decisions of a few. To assume so is demeaning intellectually, depriving people of the thought process to actually judge for themselves and form their own opinion. Aren't we also perpetuating the same prejudice, casting the same judgmental eye, on our Pinay sisters who decided to sell themselves because of their own will or for economic reasons? Maybe we should try saving those who were truly exploited by white slavery rings. Besides, shouldn't we consider people as individuals rather than attach a reputation to them, deserved or undeserved?
Lastly, are we, as a people, so insecure and have no self-esteem so as to be offended by the fact that some Pinays have chosen to be prostitutes, Domestic Help, or Mail-Order brides? I feel that the YAP movement has more to do with ego than with patriotism. In Cebu, onions are called "Bumbays." I don't hear protests from the Indian community. People poke fun at the French's reported snobiness and they take it in stride. The English make jokes at their own reputation of being hygenically-challenged. These Pinays may have given Filipinos a bad name so it needs to be "changed." Unless we, as a people, stop complaining, get some discipline, follow laws, and become kind people, Pinoys will always get a bad rap.
I'd like to talk about the woman I admire the most. My aunt, Marietta,put herself through college, has been the breadwinner of our family, has been my mother figure, and survived cancer. Could her attributes have something to do with being a Filipina? Partly. But it has more to do with the fact that she's an amazing human being.
NikkiAlfar
Tobie Abad
Gabby Lee
Andre Mischa Cleofe
However, I don't--and I can't--subscribe to a cause that I feel is a quick reaction, a palliative, to yet another thing that happened to offend our prickly national pride, no matter how noble the intention is. I've seen this before in my line of work. Congressmen would quiclkly jump to the defense of the Filipino at the first report that we are being slighted by foreigners without verifying reports, often making a mountain out of a molehill.
First of all, what is the "negative" perception of Pinays? That we are sex objects? Mail Order brides? Domestic help? Sweetheart, Pinoy Pride aside, our country's sad economic reality has forced our people to migrate wholesale, much like the Irish during the turn of the 19th and 20th century. The world knows this. Sex object? What woman isn't a sex object, either willing or unwilling? Italian women don't mind their wholesale reputations as bombshells, do they? Bottom line, YAP will not solve this "negative" perception, nor is a step toward a solution. We cannot convince foreigners who have preconceptions of what a Pinay is even if he or she meets a Pinay who isn't a sex object, a domestic help, or a mail-order bride, even if he reads article after article on the virtues of the Filipina. Blogging about the Pinay will merely flood the web with more chatter.
Second, changing the definition of the label "Pinay" is merely the different side of the same coin. This still promotes the same "herd" mentality that promoted the "hostile" image in the first place. Intellectually, we know that not all the French are rude, Not all Englishmen have bad teeth, not all Japanese have a driven work ethic. Good or bad, a label is a label. I don't think all foreigners are stupid enough to judge an entire race of women because of the decisions of a few. To assume so is demeaning intellectually, depriving people of the thought process to actually judge for themselves and form their own opinion. Aren't we also perpetuating the same prejudice, casting the same judgmental eye, on our Pinay sisters who decided to sell themselves because of their own will or for economic reasons? Maybe we should try saving those who were truly exploited by white slavery rings. Besides, shouldn't we consider people as individuals rather than attach a reputation to them, deserved or undeserved?
Lastly, are we, as a people, so insecure and have no self-esteem so as to be offended by the fact that some Pinays have chosen to be prostitutes, Domestic Help, or Mail-Order brides? I feel that the YAP movement has more to do with ego than with patriotism. In Cebu, onions are called "Bumbays." I don't hear protests from the Indian community. People poke fun at the French's reported snobiness and they take it in stride. The English make jokes at their own reputation of being hygenically-challenged. These Pinays may have given Filipinos a bad name so it needs to be "changed." Unless we, as a people, stop complaining, get some discipline, follow laws, and become kind people, Pinoys will always get a bad rap.
I'd like to talk about the woman I admire the most. My aunt, Marietta,put herself through college, has been the breadwinner of our family, has been my mother figure, and survived cancer. Could her attributes have something to do with being a Filipina? Partly. But it has more to do with the fact that she's an amazing human being.
NikkiAlfar
Tobie Abad
Gabby Lee
Andre Mischa Cleofe
Sunday, June 19, 2005
Queers and Fears
From correspondent Ilyn Florese-Alanguilan, a report on Thom Filicia's visit to Manila.
Just covering all my bases people ;) Enjoy!
Gerry and I left San Pablo at around 7:30 am and reached Alabang at around 9:00 am yesterday. Had breakfast, got my stomach acting up again so I bought medicines then went to the activity center. We found out that we should have bought their book the day before for us to get 'tickets' to sit inside the cordoned area. We could've bought a copy, but the day before? Hmmm... I'm not like that, considering where I'll be coming from.
We tried to find a good place to stand and found one near the back. At around 10:15, there was a ribbon-cutting ceremony at the Homezone to open an exhibit of the work he did for the US Pavilion at the World Expo in Aichio, Japan. Then he was led to the stage where he was introduced by Daphne Oseña-Paez (I didn't know until yesterday that she's pretty in person). He commented at every one of his credentials Daphne was enumerating. He's happy and proud of what he did without sounding that he's bragging about it.
Thom with Daphne
He told a story about having 17 meals until since arriving Friday morning. "Didn't we eat just awhile ago?" Thom and Kyan would say to each other. Well, I'd say, welcome to the Philippines! :) Then, yesterday at their hotel, they were supposed to eat breakfast and when they asked around, they were led to the restaurant where a long table with a lot of women were there. "Kyan, I think they are trying to convert us."
Anyway, he conducted a lecture about the US pavilion, about design, did a critique on the works done by the PSID students and answered questions... similar to seminars we've been attending during our conventions. His manager, who looks also like a bodyguard, was laughing hard because Thom was funny and yes, he is charming.
Thom in action
Book signing was next. But unlike what happened there at Greenbelt, the ladies had a grand time taking pics with him even during the opening of exhibits. And even after book signing ended, Thom stood up and signed more books along the way. Then it's done. We bought some stuff and went home.
Thom charms the ladies
It was fun. Thanks to my husband for coming with me, and who was not embarassed of taking Thom's pic in a sea of women.
--------
I think I've been partying waaay too much lately. I need a break.
As someone once told me, "Sleep is good. Sleep is your friend."
Indeed.
Fete de la Musique was somewhat of a disappointment for me. Didn't enjoy the heat, the crowds, and the unruly and unwashed youth, whose idea of teenage rebellion was to get drunk and pick fights. While I bumped into many old friends and acquaintances, the crowds made it impossible for me to locate and unite my disparate group of friends, scattered across the fair grounds.
Anyway, it got too overwhelming that my brother, his girlfriend, her sister and I motored over to Absinth. Turned put that the samba band that played at the Fete had also headed there, along with other Fete refugees.
So there I was, dancing by myself and minding my own business, as I was wont to do in these places, when a girl with a pixie haircut and in a funky skirt decided to join me. So I decided to jump on for the ride.
Things got pretty heavy between us, as she grabbed my hand and led me to the VIP section. Once there, she decided that she wanted to get funky, so I thought, cool, let's get funky.
Bumping and grinding, pelvis against pelvis, sweat against sweat. I did my best to follow her rhythm. It got pretty hot. I had to admit that I was a bit turned on by it all. She whispered in my ear that everybody in the room envied us. I didn't really care because I was lost in the music.
Truth be told, I know I had told you guys that I have never been attracted to women. Well, there was this one girl. Just one. I was 22. I thought I was going nuts when I was almost paralyzed by my massive crush on her, because I know that I'm not a lesbian. Anyway, I decided to keep my distance and my feelings for her went away.
She got tired, so we plopped down a couch and cuddled. As I stroked her leg, we shared information about each other. Her name was Marge, 21, and yes, she was gay. Duh! she exclaimed. Wasn't it obvious? I replied that I don't like to assume things about people. I've danced with other strangers before, some of them women, but just because we decided to get down and dirty doesn't make them gay, right?
She told me her girl was out of town,so I asked her, won't her friends think that you're cheating on her girlfriend? She told me that her girl is probably cheating on her with a guy. Besides, it's like we we're doing anything wrong. I asked her wasn't her GF gay, too? She said that she likes to go out with "straight" women.
Anyway, my cellphone beeped. It was my brother, who told me we had to go. So Marge and I left the VIP section. I thanked her with a peck on her cheek. I didn't ask for her number because a) I'm straight b) I figured that if she's realy interested, she'd ask for my number.
Later that night, I dreamt that I bumped into her while I was on holiday in Spain. We chatted for a bit, then she asked me why didn't we exchange numbers when we first met? Then she gave me her number.
Damn, I really should've asked for her number.
Just covering all my bases people ;) Enjoy!
Gerry and I left San Pablo at around 7:30 am and reached Alabang at around 9:00 am yesterday. Had breakfast, got my stomach acting up again so I bought medicines then went to the activity center. We found out that we should have bought their book the day before for us to get 'tickets' to sit inside the cordoned area. We could've bought a copy, but the day before? Hmmm... I'm not like that, considering where I'll be coming from.
We tried to find a good place to stand and found one near the back. At around 10:15, there was a ribbon-cutting ceremony at the Homezone to open an exhibit of the work he did for the US Pavilion at the World Expo in Aichio, Japan. Then he was led to the stage where he was introduced by Daphne Oseña-Paez (I didn't know until yesterday that she's pretty in person). He commented at every one of his credentials Daphne was enumerating. He's happy and proud of what he did without sounding that he's bragging about it.
Thom with Daphne
He told a story about having 17 meals until since arriving Friday morning. "Didn't we eat just awhile ago?" Thom and Kyan would say to each other. Well, I'd say, welcome to the Philippines! :) Then, yesterday at their hotel, they were supposed to eat breakfast and when they asked around, they were led to the restaurant where a long table with a lot of women were there. "Kyan, I think they are trying to convert us."
Anyway, he conducted a lecture about the US pavilion, about design, did a critique on the works done by the PSID students and answered questions... similar to seminars we've been attending during our conventions. His manager, who looks also like a bodyguard, was laughing hard because Thom was funny and yes, he is charming.
Thom in action
Book signing was next. But unlike what happened there at Greenbelt, the ladies had a grand time taking pics with him even during the opening of exhibits. And even after book signing ended, Thom stood up and signed more books along the way. Then it's done. We bought some stuff and went home.
Thom charms the ladies
It was fun. Thanks to my husband for coming with me, and who was not embarassed of taking Thom's pic in a sea of women.
--------
I think I've been partying waaay too much lately. I need a break.
As someone once told me, "Sleep is good. Sleep is your friend."
Indeed.
Fete de la Musique was somewhat of a disappointment for me. Didn't enjoy the heat, the crowds, and the unruly and unwashed youth, whose idea of teenage rebellion was to get drunk and pick fights. While I bumped into many old friends and acquaintances, the crowds made it impossible for me to locate and unite my disparate group of friends, scattered across the fair grounds.
Anyway, it got too overwhelming that my brother, his girlfriend, her sister and I motored over to Absinth. Turned put that the samba band that played at the Fete had also headed there, along with other Fete refugees.
So there I was, dancing by myself and minding my own business, as I was wont to do in these places, when a girl with a pixie haircut and in a funky skirt decided to join me. So I decided to jump on for the ride.
Things got pretty heavy between us, as she grabbed my hand and led me to the VIP section. Once there, she decided that she wanted to get funky, so I thought, cool, let's get funky.
Bumping and grinding, pelvis against pelvis, sweat against sweat. I did my best to follow her rhythm. It got pretty hot. I had to admit that I was a bit turned on by it all. She whispered in my ear that everybody in the room envied us. I didn't really care because I was lost in the music.
Truth be told, I know I had told you guys that I have never been attracted to women. Well, there was this one girl. Just one. I was 22. I thought I was going nuts when I was almost paralyzed by my massive crush on her, because I know that I'm not a lesbian. Anyway, I decided to keep my distance and my feelings for her went away.
She got tired, so we plopped down a couch and cuddled. As I stroked her leg, we shared information about each other. Her name was Marge, 21, and yes, she was gay. Duh! she exclaimed. Wasn't it obvious? I replied that I don't like to assume things about people. I've danced with other strangers before, some of them women, but just because we decided to get down and dirty doesn't make them gay, right?
She told me her girl was out of town,so I asked her, won't her friends think that you're cheating on her girlfriend? She told me that her girl is probably cheating on her with a guy. Besides, it's like we we're doing anything wrong. I asked her wasn't her GF gay, too? She said that she likes to go out with "straight" women.
Anyway, my cellphone beeped. It was my brother, who told me we had to go. So Marge and I left the VIP section. I thanked her with a peck on her cheek. I didn't ask for her number because a) I'm straight b) I figured that if she's realy interested, she'd ask for my number.
Later that night, I dreamt that I bumped into her while I was on holiday in Spain. We chatted for a bit, then she asked me why didn't we exchange numbers when we first met? Then she gave me her number.
Damn, I really should've asked for her number.
Saturday, June 18, 2005
Her Story
Reading the conclusion of Jonas Diego's A Girl's Story was like putting down a very satisfying novel. The storytelling was sharp and lyrical, the art was very effective in moving the story along. It may not have had a happy ending, but the story was thought-provoking and resonated emotionally.
What appalled me more than the guy's lack of compassion for a fellow human was his refusal to take responsibility for his actions. This is on top of my list of pet peeves. Every action has a consequence, a principle that is oft repeated in religion and science.
This is what I don't get with society: People love to hear stories of sex and scandal, but refuse to acknowledge the flip side of the coin.
This morning, after a night of partying, my girlfriends Jewel, Leslie, and I got to talking about our lying friends and gynecological stories. The conversation rolled at how people only want to acknowledge the good part of themselves, and would go to great lengths to lie about their weaknesses. People like them don't care if they step on toes, as long as they look good to those who they think matter.
Leslie noted that people only want to hear her sex stories, but her friends felt uncomfortable when the conversation shifted to the not-so-pleasant side of being promiscuous. Leslie and I are well aware that being sexually active could get us diseases or pregnant, and we are responsible enough to take precautions and look after our health.
Personally, I, too, am trying to find balance between my good and bad sides. I am struggling to acknowledge and accept my undesirable traits and embrace these weaknesses.
The more people try to cover up weaknesses, the weaker a person's foundation becomes. Leslie had earlier spoken about why the Japanese economy faltered as spectacularly as it did. I couldn't help but notice the similarity.
What appalled me more than the guy's lack of compassion for a fellow human was his refusal to take responsibility for his actions. This is on top of my list of pet peeves. Every action has a consequence, a principle that is oft repeated in religion and science.
This is what I don't get with society: People love to hear stories of sex and scandal, but refuse to acknowledge the flip side of the coin.
This morning, after a night of partying, my girlfriends Jewel, Leslie, and I got to talking about our lying friends and gynecological stories. The conversation rolled at how people only want to acknowledge the good part of themselves, and would go to great lengths to lie about their weaknesses. People like them don't care if they step on toes, as long as they look good to those who they think matter.
Leslie noted that people only want to hear her sex stories, but her friends felt uncomfortable when the conversation shifted to the not-so-pleasant side of being promiscuous. Leslie and I are well aware that being sexually active could get us diseases or pregnant, and we are responsible enough to take precautions and look after our health.
Personally, I, too, am trying to find balance between my good and bad sides. I am struggling to acknowledge and accept my undesirable traits and embrace these weaknesses.
The more people try to cover up weaknesses, the weaker a person's foundation becomes. Leslie had earlier spoken about why the Japanese economy faltered as spectacularly as it did. I couldn't help but notice the similarity.
Monday, June 13, 2005
Make-Up 101: Eyes
Alrighty people, let's hustle. Moving on to the eyes.
Now men, women may seem to be risking blindness when they put on eye make-up, but really it's all for your benefit. Why the heck would we go through all these lengths to be pretty? Now when the make-up people say they want to "make the eyes pop," it means to make the eyes more noticeable.
Girlies, DO NOT look for them fancy ways of creating the illusion of bigger eyes or what not: that's not what this series is for. All I'm teaching are the basics.
Oh, and another thing: One of my pet peeves is when women color both their eyes and lips too strongly. Pick one area. Choose. Make up your mind. What's your asset? What do you want to emphasize? The eyes or the lips? If you're not appearing on TV, there's no use getting over-painted. P.S., don't forget to shape yer brows people!
Now that that has been established, let's move on!
Step 1: Put on eyeshadow. Now, I'm not a big fan of eyeshadow because there's so much room for goof. So to minimize goof (and having to re-do your eye-makeup), choose neutral colors like browns and pinks, something close (but not too close!) to your skin tone. Choose 2-3 shades you really like that belong to the same color family. Make an imaginary line dividing your eyelid into two or three. The darkest shade will always go to the part nearest the lashes. The lightest shade near the brows. DO NOT over-shadow or you'll look like you have a shiner. Black eyes, in my book, are unattractive. Think of your brows as the border. DO NOT put shadow past the part of your eyelid under where your eyebrows end. This is the imaginary border. However, this is not a hard or fast rule so go ahead and experiment!
Note on shadows: I am not a fan of blue or green eyeshadow, because of the aforementioned margin of error. However, I've seen morena girls with green eyeshadow and look fab. So my tip, keep it sheer, and use shimmerry, not matte eyeshadow. Or else you'll look like Mimi from The Drew Carey Show.
Step 2: Apply eyeliner. My sister uses liquid eyeliner, but I prefer soft-tipped pencil eyeliner that smudges easily, because it doubles as eyeshadow when I am in a hurry. I just place my finger over the corner of my eye, gently drag, and voila! Line the part of your brows where skin meets the lashes. I don't put eyeliner under my eyes because a) that's so 80's! b) Philippine humidity quickly gives me raccoon eyes c) more risk of poking my eye out? No, thank you!
Step 3: Pencil in the brows. Just trace in the lines and follow the shape so your eyebrows. YOur eyebrows should looked "filled-in" and "groomed." Use just enough pressure to darken your brows just enough so skin won't peek through the brush.
Step 5: I know Kurl-lash looks like an implement of torture, but it really does make your eyes seem wider. I swear! So close your eyes and curl away, then apply mascara. My sister is using Ever Bilena Mascara gel, perfect for the daytime, and it also doubles as an eyebrow groomer when I'm too lazy to use eyeliner (why, yes, I'm a lazy oaf).
Tip: Sometimes I apply black mascara at the outer part of my lashes, and clear mascara at the hairs closer to the corners of my eyes for a "Betty Boop" effect. Very dramatic.
I hope I haven't overloaded your brains with too much information, since you still have FOUR more people to visit! Hope you enjoyed this stop! Ta-ta!
Nikki
Alfar
Tobie
Abad
Gabby
Lee
Andre
Mischa Cleofe
Now men, women may seem to be risking blindness when they put on eye make-up, but really it's all for your benefit. Why the heck would we go through all these lengths to be pretty? Now when the make-up people say they want to "make the eyes pop," it means to make the eyes more noticeable.
Girlies, DO NOT look for them fancy ways of creating the illusion of bigger eyes or what not: that's not what this series is for. All I'm teaching are the basics.
Oh, and another thing: One of my pet peeves is when women color both their eyes and lips too strongly. Pick one area. Choose. Make up your mind. What's your asset? What do you want to emphasize? The eyes or the lips? If you're not appearing on TV, there's no use getting over-painted. P.S., don't forget to shape yer brows people!
Now that that has been established, let's move on!
Step 1: Put on eyeshadow. Now, I'm not a big fan of eyeshadow because there's so much room for goof. So to minimize goof (and having to re-do your eye-makeup), choose neutral colors like browns and pinks, something close (but not too close!) to your skin tone. Choose 2-3 shades you really like that belong to the same color family. Make an imaginary line dividing your eyelid into two or three. The darkest shade will always go to the part nearest the lashes. The lightest shade near the brows. DO NOT over-shadow or you'll look like you have a shiner. Black eyes, in my book, are unattractive. Think of your brows as the border. DO NOT put shadow past the part of your eyelid under where your eyebrows end. This is the imaginary border. However, this is not a hard or fast rule so go ahead and experiment!
Note on shadows: I am not a fan of blue or green eyeshadow, because of the aforementioned margin of error. However, I've seen morena girls with green eyeshadow and look fab. So my tip, keep it sheer, and use shimmerry, not matte eyeshadow. Or else you'll look like Mimi from The Drew Carey Show.
Step 2: Apply eyeliner. My sister uses liquid eyeliner, but I prefer soft-tipped pencil eyeliner that smudges easily, because it doubles as eyeshadow when I am in a hurry. I just place my finger over the corner of my eye, gently drag, and voila! Line the part of your brows where skin meets the lashes. I don't put eyeliner under my eyes because a) that's so 80's! b) Philippine humidity quickly gives me raccoon eyes c) more risk of poking my eye out? No, thank you!
Step 3: Pencil in the brows. Just trace in the lines and follow the shape so your eyebrows. YOur eyebrows should looked "filled-in" and "groomed." Use just enough pressure to darken your brows just enough so skin won't peek through the brush.
Step 5: I know Kurl-lash looks like an implement of torture, but it really does make your eyes seem wider. I swear! So close your eyes and curl away, then apply mascara. My sister is using Ever Bilena Mascara gel, perfect for the daytime, and it also doubles as an eyebrow groomer when I'm too lazy to use eyeliner (why, yes, I'm a lazy oaf).
Tip: Sometimes I apply black mascara at the outer part of my lashes, and clear mascara at the hairs closer to the corners of my eyes for a "Betty Boop" effect. Very dramatic.
I hope I haven't overloaded your brains with too much information, since you still have FOUR more people to visit! Hope you enjoyed this stop! Ta-ta!
Nikki
Alfar
Tobie
Abad
Gabby
Lee
Andre
Mischa Cleofe
Sunday, June 12, 2005
He's here! He's Queer! and He's HOT!
The many faces of Kyan Douglas
HE'S HERE! HE'S HERE! My favorite gay guy is here! Kyan Douglas, the grooming guru of the fab show Queer Eye for the Straight Guy came to Manila to spread his message of positivity and self-improvement.
I've been popping pills like crazy since Thursday, determined that I be well enough to go meet Kyan on Saturday. Because of the damned weather the skin on my hands has broken out in rashes and I've been feeling feverish, and I got my period on Friday. I was a giant walking ache.
I staked out the place as early as 10:40 am. There were already a few stragglers there. I've been debating for the past couple of days whether or not I should buy his book, which I've already read thrice. But sensing that the only way I could get thisclose to Kyan was if I had a book signed, I decided to splurge. (bye-bye this week's budget!)
First one in, first one seated. I got the best seat I could, by the aisle in front of the stage. I dozed off in my seat as I waited, still feeling light-headed. Thank goodness I was wearing an unconstructed coat. When I woke up, the place was packed. All allotted seats were filled, and spectators and fans surrounded the cordoned area in the middle of the mall.
He arrived right on time. Girls started to scream, and he had a hard time getting the crowd to quiet down and hear what he really wanted to say. Poor Anton San Diego. He was the host, but nobody was listening to him.
Kyan spoke for the next thirty minutes about his life, how he got the Queer Eye gig, and his latest job as the first male spokesperson for L'Oreal cosmetics.
The reason why I like and identify with Kyan so much is because we have the same personal motto: To become the best person we can possibly be. He spoke about his life growing up, gay and Catholic in his hometown in Florida. He was a thin, shy, and awkward teenager, who disliked everything about himself. At age 15, he decided that he was sick of feeling that way and decided that he wanted to be fulfill his potential (lucky him! I reached that point at the age of 23). He studied Eastern philosophy, became active in yoga, watched his health and diet, and became a positive person.
He became involved in beautifying people by becoming a hair colorist. He excelled at his job and one day, one of his clients suggested that he audition for a show her friend was casting. We know the rest.
He encouraged everybody to "know thyself"--yes, it's unoriginal but it still rings true--to keep a journal, to become better on the inside. Feeling better inside, he said, will create ripples and affect how you look and feel outside. He also urged everybody to become the best at what they are doing, in whatever job or task.
For me, Kyan is the embodiment of how becoming the best you can be lead to success and other unexpected blessings. He is passionate about beauty. He worked as a salesclerk at cosmetic booths in department stores, before becoming a colorist for Arrojo Studios and a stylist for magazines and TV shows. He was perfectly happy and content and good at what he was doing and the world became his oyster.
He then answered questions submitted earlier about himself, his views on Manila and his stay here, and the show. One girl asked Kyan to marry her. Women screamed as Kyan slowly got down to one knee, then stood back up and said, "Sorry, maybe in another lifetime!"
As I lined up to get my book signed, the uber-strict handlers forbade me to have my pic taken with Kyan. He heard this and was kind enough to say "Oh okay, then you can take a picture of me while I sign your book!"
Kyan signs my book!
I told him that his message resonates. He seemed touched by what I said and thanked me.
Kyan signs more books
As I headed to the exit, I noticed that Kyan's car was parked near the entrance. So I decided to park myself right there and take more pictures. People multiplied as soon as word got out. Good thing I was in the middle of the landing, right behind the guards. People started to push when Kyan headed to the car, as I vainly tried to get a good picture. The poor girls who were near the stairs (it was only about 3-4 steps) tumbled down the pavement as they bore the brunt of the force of the "domino effect." I think one of the girls was the president of Pinoyslayers, the local Buffy fan club. I looked at them and tried to see if I could do anything, but other people had already helped them to their feet. Besides, I was no longer feeling too well, so no gatecrasher stories for you guys!
I slept until 8, and decided that I didn't want to be sick alone and went home to Parañaque.
Oh well, I have my book, I have his autograph, and I met Kyan. I am a happy munchkin.
Friday, June 10, 2005
Sinners and Saints
Enter the world of Sin City, where men are men, dames aren't all who they say and nobody plays by the rules. Everybody has a secret, and it's only a matter of time before it catches up to them.
I haven't read all of the seven-or-so graphic novels where the movie was based on, but I was thoroughly impressed by the ones I have. It reeks of sex, deception, crime, mental instability, and the agony of desire.
Because I had very definite ideas of the characters of the celebrated graphic novels, I was afraid that I was in for a disappointment. I wasn't.
The movie interweaves three of the novellas in the "Sin City" graphic novel series, where the characters from other novellas make an appearance. (The Babe Wore Red sequences were so brief, I didn't count it in).
To someone who has not read the novels, the connecting scenes of the movie may seem forced, stretched just to make the film appear as if it were one straight story. I also feel that the movie lumbers at parts because the directors wanted to be unerringly faithful to the comic. Reading "Sin City" then watching the movie "Sin City" for me was a jolting experience. The use eye-popping color in a sea of black and white was a visual treat. It was the novel, in the flesh. For the novel's fans, this should be a pleasant experience. I mouthed lines as they were being said. However, I felt that it wasn't wise to directly lift a lot of the dialogue from the comic. Some lines that worked for the novel seemed ludicrous when spoken out loud.
Robert Rodriguez cast the right people. Except for Brittany Murphy, who I felt didn't have the sass or the bravura of Shelly. Shelly was cheap, but undeniably sexy in an earthy way; she was ugly but she had a confidence about her that made her alluring. Murphy did get Shelly's cheap-ness, but I felt that her interpretation of Shelly was too jittery. While some actors didn't resemble their comic book counterparts, everyone had the mood and the menace down pat. I especially loved Elijah Wood as the sweet-faced cannibal Kevin. Look out for cameos by Frank Miller and Robert Rodriguez.
Among all the characters, I connected the most to Gail. I loved her costume, and I loved her gleeful bloodlust. Hm, what does that say about me? I guess I still have a lot of aggression to work out.
Would I recommend the Sin City graphic novels? Yes.
Sin City the movie is a film for fans by fans. I guess you just have to be a fan to thoroughly enjoy it.
Monday, June 06, 2005
Make-up 101
Okay folks we now begin our lesson on painting human faces. It's in time for the first week of classes and the inauguration of the Slinging Ink Writer's Web group!
If you have been a very good girl (or boy) and religiously follow the tenets of good skin care (enough sleep, water, cleanse/tone/moisturize), then you wouldn't need this tutorial. But not everybody could be a very good girl (or boy).
This is a practical guide on how to put on make-up on your face for everyday activities. I won't recommend painting your face all the time, since the skin needs a rest from all that gunk. But when you need to hide some blemishes here and there, my sister and my model, Grace demonstrate a quick fix.
1) On a clean and oil-free face, dab on a little concealer on blemishes, like Grace's zit. Focus on the bottom side of the pimple. Cover up under-eye circles, the sides of the nose, anything that's darker than your natural skin color. There are several colors of concealer that can be matched to skin tone or to counter-act the color of the blemish. Green concealer only works for fair-skinned people.
2) Dab a little foundation on a damp sponge (or your fingers)
3) Blend. Make sure any trace of concealer mixes in with the foundation. I like using liquid foundation best because it dries easily but doesn't leave my skin dry. I like Mary Kay medium coverage foundation, but use Nivea Natural Tinted moisturizer when I get lazy. I use Max Factor cake foundation in Tawny Beige when I know I will be photographed.
4) Don't forget the neck! You wouldn't want to look like you fell face-first into a bowl of flour. This will ensure that the color of your face matches your neck. Remember that your face will be more tan than the rest of your body. But you already know that.
5) Apply pressed powder to set. My sister and I use Godiva pressed powder. We like the consistency of the powder, and it blends well with make-up.
I hope I do Kyan proud!
----
Dear boys who are boys.
The principle of this entire exercise is simple. Pretend the face is a wall with chinks and holes. You are about to paint this wall. Concealer is the masilya or putty used to smoothen everything out. Foundation is akin to the primer coat of paint, powder is the final coat of paint. Intiende?
In the immortal words of Jonas Diego, "Concealer before foundation makes you a sensation!"
Could that statement be any more gay?
----
P.S. DOES ANYBODY KNOW OF A WAY I COULD GET INTO THE QUEER EYE PARTY 7 P.M. GREENBELT BAMBOO PARK WITHOUT GATE-CRASHING?
ONWARD HOY!
If you have been a very good girl (or boy) and religiously follow the tenets of good skin care (enough sleep, water, cleanse/tone/moisturize), then you wouldn't need this tutorial. But not everybody could be a very good girl (or boy).
This is a practical guide on how to put on make-up on your face for everyday activities. I won't recommend painting your face all the time, since the skin needs a rest from all that gunk. But when you need to hide some blemishes here and there, my sister and my model, Grace demonstrate a quick fix.
1) On a clean and oil-free face, dab on a little concealer on blemishes, like Grace's zit. Focus on the bottom side of the pimple. Cover up under-eye circles, the sides of the nose, anything that's darker than your natural skin color. There are several colors of concealer that can be matched to skin tone or to counter-act the color of the blemish. Green concealer only works for fair-skinned people.
2) Dab a little foundation on a damp sponge (or your fingers)
3) Blend. Make sure any trace of concealer mixes in with the foundation. I like using liquid foundation best because it dries easily but doesn't leave my skin dry. I like Mary Kay medium coverage foundation, but use Nivea Natural Tinted moisturizer when I get lazy. I use Max Factor cake foundation in Tawny Beige when I know I will be photographed.
4) Don't forget the neck! You wouldn't want to look like you fell face-first into a bowl of flour. This will ensure that the color of your face matches your neck. Remember that your face will be more tan than the rest of your body. But you already know that.
5) Apply pressed powder to set. My sister and I use Godiva pressed powder. We like the consistency of the powder, and it blends well with make-up.
I hope I do Kyan proud!
----
Dear boys who are boys.
The principle of this entire exercise is simple. Pretend the face is a wall with chinks and holes. You are about to paint this wall. Concealer is the masilya or putty used to smoothen everything out. Foundation is akin to the primer coat of paint, powder is the final coat of paint. Intiende?
In the immortal words of Jonas Diego, "Concealer before foundation makes you a sensation!"
Could that statement be any more gay?
----
P.S. DOES ANYBODY KNOW OF A WAY I COULD GET INTO THE QUEER EYE PARTY 7 P.M. GREENBELT BAMBOO PARK WITHOUT GATE-CRASHING?
ONWARD HOY!
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
He's Coming! He's Coming!
AIEEEEEEE!!!!!!
FANGURL SCREAMS SOME MORE!
AIEEEEEEE!!!!
JUNE 11! GREENBELT MALL!
AIEEEEEE!!!!!!
Monday, May 30, 2005
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.
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.
Thursday, May 26, 2005
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.
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.
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
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....
Monday, May 16, 2005
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.
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.
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
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
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
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.
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.
Thursday, May 05, 2005
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.
Sunday, May 01, 2005
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.
----
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.
----
Friday, April 29, 2005
What I Hate About Being a Woman
BRAS
I like breasts. I don't like bras. I do understand the need for and the benefits of a good pair o' underwear. I am a certified lingerie connoisseur. I am willing to fork over a lot of money for a miniscule piece of cloth. If there are two things that women should spend on, it is a good pair of shoes and a good pair of underwear. Other girls are into shoes, others are into bags. I definitely have a thing for lingerie.
Then why don't you like bras?
Because it's so damned frustrating to shop for one!
It's almost as complicated as finding The One. Aside from the fact that no two girls have the same sized jugs, even a girl's own pair are slightly asymmetrical. Flat chested girls are actually the luckier ones. Any full-chested girl has her own frustrating bra-shopping epic to relate.
But aren't bra sizes standard?
No they're not!
Check this out: In a Wonderbra I'm a 70-B; Avon and Triumph a 70 A; Any other brand I'm a 34 B. Every lingerie company has their own idea of how far out is far out. Unlike a guy who can stick their pair in any old pair of underwear, girls have to be more particular.
Yesterday I tried on 10 different pairs in three different stores before finally settling for a pair that I knew was perfect. Price tag: P 750. Yes, that's just for one bra. That's two pairs of shoes.
PMS
Another excuse for guys to pick on the abilities of females. Everything from flakiness to lack of leadership ability has been attributed to hormones.
I hate having my period. I can't do stuff. Changing tampons and pads could be a time-consuming business. I feel bloated, my tummy and breasts feel tender, my skin sucks. I am listless, more irritable and pessimistic in the first couple of days.
SAD MOVIES
I hate the fact that sad movies and news items make me cry. Yes, even those blatantly manipulative ones.
I like breasts. I don't like bras. I do understand the need for and the benefits of a good pair o' underwear. I am a certified lingerie connoisseur. I am willing to fork over a lot of money for a miniscule piece of cloth. If there are two things that women should spend on, it is a good pair of shoes and a good pair of underwear. Other girls are into shoes, others are into bags. I definitely have a thing for lingerie.
Then why don't you like bras?
Because it's so damned frustrating to shop for one!
It's almost as complicated as finding The One. Aside from the fact that no two girls have the same sized jugs, even a girl's own pair are slightly asymmetrical. Flat chested girls are actually the luckier ones. Any full-chested girl has her own frustrating bra-shopping epic to relate.
But aren't bra sizes standard?
No they're not!
Check this out: In a Wonderbra I'm a 70-B; Avon and Triumph a 70 A; Any other brand I'm a 34 B. Every lingerie company has their own idea of how far out is far out. Unlike a guy who can stick their pair in any old pair of underwear, girls have to be more particular.
Yesterday I tried on 10 different pairs in three different stores before finally settling for a pair that I knew was perfect. Price tag: P 750. Yes, that's just for one bra. That's two pairs of shoes.
PMS
Another excuse for guys to pick on the abilities of females. Everything from flakiness to lack of leadership ability has been attributed to hormones.
I hate having my period. I can't do stuff. Changing tampons and pads could be a time-consuming business. I feel bloated, my tummy and breasts feel tender, my skin sucks. I am listless, more irritable and pessimistic in the first couple of days.
SAD MOVIES
I hate the fact that sad movies and news items make me cry. Yes, even those blatantly manipulative ones.
***
On a more serious note, what sucks about being a female is a culture of docility being pressed upon women. Women are supposed to be feminine, willowy, and all that blather. To have masculine traits is considered unattractive. To be anything outside the madonna/b*tch/wh*re spectrum is also unattractive. To stick out of a perceived category or label is considered unattractive.
The belief that women are weak and silent has promoted violence against our gender. I have sought counseling for experiences I have had previously, and learned that rape is not an act of violence that has nothing to do with sex but everything to do with power. A true man, a strong person, will never ever subjugate somebody else to feel power. Rape has nothing to do with the woman, but everything about the aggressor's feeling of inadequacy.
Jac, I feel for you. you should've spoken out sooner. Nevertheless, I'm glad that you have.
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