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Heyyy… Pretty ladies

When I was in high school, I was amazed at how some of my classmates managed to come to school with beautiful hair every day. They used a special comb (Hair Doctor) to make it shiny. They wore cute clips and accessories on their hair. And I was so jealous that they can always wear their long, straight hair down. Meanwhile I comb my hair only twice a day—once after I take a bath, and when I put it up in a ponytail.

Girls wore A-line skirts in our high school. But this style was not deemed fashionable by some of the pretty ladies because it failed to highlight their blossoming bodies, so they had it altered it to a pencil skirt to hug their curves. I couldn’t have cared less about the cut of my skirt because I was more worried about my shoes. I thought none of the black leather girls’ shoes looked good on me, so I ended up buying work shoes instead. I loved those shoes. They were so comfy and durable, albeit a little heavy. I still think it was one of the coolest things that I owned.

Imagine this pair worn with a white, long-sleeved shirt and black-and-white checkered, A-line skirt. I’m a fashion maven.

Before we were dismissed from class, our teacher would usually instruct us to fix ourselves before going home. The pretty girls would promptly take out their pressed powders and different-flavored ChapSticks to touch up their beautiful faces. In the meantime, I would just wipe my face with a handkerchief and put petroleum jelly on my lips, making it look like I just finished eating lechon because of its sheen. This situation did not improve when I was in college either. I just went from a plain-looking girl in school uniform to a plain-looking girl in jeans and t-shirt. But I want to think that I look and dress better now compared to my 15-year-old self. I know how to put makeup. I can wear high heels and dresses. My hair is still awful though, but I’ve come to terms with that.

My friend told me that she never would’ve thought I had it in me to be a “girly-girl”. I’m just as surprised as anyone else. And despite the better facade, I’m still pretty much my 15-year-old self. There will always be a part of me that is insecure when I’m with my pretty high school classmates. These ladies exude confidence that stemmed from hearing people say they’re pretty when they were growing up, and I’ll never have that. And when people tell me now that I’m pretty or sexy, I feel like it’s diminished by the fact that I have to work hard to be pretty. I feel like I’m not being complimented as a beautiful person, but I’m being complimented on putting in effort to be beautiful.

I guess that’s why I love makeovers so much. Even though you may not feel confident in your own skin, you can still fake it. And if you keep faking it, at some point, you’ll believe it and you won’t have to fake it anymore. At least that’s what I’m hoping for. I’ll get back to you on this.

I am not weird.

I don’t know what it is about people calling themselves “weird” that bothers me. Maybe it’s the fact that these same people usually find a lot of things weird. “Woke up and it’s 11:11 am/pm. Weird.” “I had a weird dream about my boyfriend.” “I threw an apple up and it kept coming back to the ground. How weird!” I used to think that I was weird because I talked to myself in English while I was doing the No. 2 in the bathroom: I literally had conversations where I’m both the interviewer and interviewee. But I found out that a lot of people do that as well so I wasn’t that weird after all. The only people I would probably consider weird are those in the Guinness Book of World Records.

Now THIS is weird.

I also have a problem with people who call themselves “smart”. I love that you’re owning it. But then I visit your profile and your grammar is awful. Look, I suck at grammar too, that’s why I don’t ever proclaim I’m smart. Not that I equate good grammar with intelligence, but if you don’t know the proper usage of “your” and “you’re”, then that “I’m smart” statement just crumbles. PRO-TIP: Never proclaim you’re smart. Prove it.

I guess this is why I don’t feel comfortable being labeled a certain thing myself. People expect you to do or not do certain things. And if you do something different from what they expect of you, they don’t like it. They find it hard to accept that you can be more than what they’ve labeled you as.

I enjoy playing Tower Defense with my friends. We also have board game nights where we play Betrayal at the House on the Hill, Game of Thrones or Battlestar Galactica. I follow the Game of Thrones TV series religiously. And I just started playing Dungeons and Dragons. Once people know these things about me, they automatically say that I’m a nerd. I’m not. I just do nerdy things from time to time. I’m not dedicated enough in those things to become a full-fledged nerd. Also, the nerd-hood does not appreciate half-assed posers, AM I RIGHT?! NERDS, REPRESENT! (That’s me being a dork, not a nerd. Learn the difference.)

Since I’m not a nerd, I got tired of spending my weekends playing these games. I wanted to go out, drink and hopefully, dance. I told my friend about it and she asked why would I want to do that?  When I said I’m tired of doing nerdy things and wanted a change of scenery, she said, “But that’s what you are.” Well, even if I were a nerd, why would that entail not wanting to go out and party? You CAN be a nerd and love going to bars. It doesn’t have to be mutually exclusive. I’m sure my friend was just kidding but it hit a nerve.

And then I posted this picture as my profile photo on Facebook, and one of my friends, who I play computer and board games with, found it hilarious that I’m trying to do an outfit shot. But what was so hilarious about it? Was it because he’s not used to seeing me like this? Or that it’s out of character for me to do an outfit shot? Well I did feel ridiculous doing a selfie, but I had fun with it and I think it turned out great. And he might be mocking me when he said that I’m going into fashion, whatever that means, because of this shot. Well what if I do? Will he ridicule that too?

I am not weird. I am not a nerd. I am not a party girl. I am not a fashion whatever. But I can be all those things. Or none of those things. I don’t know how people will deal with that, but that’s not my problem.

Cool Mom

I don’t know if my relationship with my mom is what people would call close. We only have each other, but we’re not as close as Lorelai and Rory are in Gilmore Girls. I’m also not emotionally secure enough to post a status update on Facebook sharing to my friends that I love my mom even if I do, so I wrote a blog about it instead. (This is actually more public than a Facebook post. Hello, strangers!) I know it’s a day late but it’s still Mother’s Day in some parts of the world so Happy Mother’s Day, mother! Here are some of the things that make my mom cool, and not ironically cool like Amy Poehler as seen above.

1. She’s a great shopping buddy.

Ladies who don’t go shopping with their moms, you are missing out. Don’t we girls shop together as a bonding exercise? This works the same way with our moms. They have fashion wisdom that you’re not taking advantage of. There have been countless times when my mom bought me something that I thought didn’t look good but once I wore it, it was fabulous. She has an eye for those things. My mom is my shopping conscience. She stops me from compulsively buying clothes that she knows I wouldn’t be able to wear often. At the same time, she encourages me to buy beautiful things that she’s sure I would use even though they’re expensive. So I’m in debt because of her. Thanks, Ma!   

Of course we can’t help that some moms are stuck in old lady fashion. Remember that you don’t always have to shop together for clothes and shoes. If you’re both into cooking, then go crazy at a supermarket. Or buy things for your house, which is what my mom and I also do. She also consults me if she’s deciding on a major purchase like a vehicle or real estate.

2. She introduces the finer things in life.

My mom has shown me the ways of the world. She introduced me to good food and good books. When I started drinking alcohol, she let me taste better drinks—drinks that I would’ve missed because I wouldn’t have been able to afford it. I was contented with Absolut before, but I have moved on to Grey Goose, and now, Belvedere. When my friends started smoking, she suggested that they try her brand because the smell of its smoke doesn’t cling to clothes. And if it weren’t for my mother, I wouldn’t actively seek out hotels just to pee in their fancy restrooms. 

It may sound like my mom is a bad influence and in her defense, I would just like to state that I only started drinking when I was 18. I drink once a month at the most. And I don’t smoke. My point is that your kids will eventually try to experiment on drinking and smoking too. I’m not saying for you to support your kids’ vices, but reprimanding them won’t help much either, unless they’re becoming excessive. Remember the saying “Habang pinipigil, lalong nanggigigil.” You moms were young once too and more often than not, you have dabbled in those things as well. Maybe even worse. Would you have stopped if your mother told you not to do those things?   

3. She’s friends with my friends.

Maybe “friends” is a strong word, but what do you call a person who gets along with another person, can share a drink together and talk about issues in life? If you find a word for it, that’s the relationship my mom and my friends have. This can be awkward and great at the same time. It’s awkward because you still have to filter what you’re going to say when she’s around. And it’s great because she gives sage advice. You know those times when we get depressed or worried because we feel like our lives are not going the way we want it? That quarter-life crisis we keep spouting? It’s a relief to hear an experienced adult say that we should calm down. Or that we could make it past the problems we’re having. Or that there are worse things in life. And it’s great to hear her tell her story which is oftentimes more haggard than ours. She gives a different perspective because she’s been there.

4. She doesn’t give off a mom vibe.

Despite my mom being a cool mom, I still see her primarily as my mom and not as a friend. But this specific “cool mom” point came from my friends who said that they feel comfortable talking to her because she doesn’t give off a mom vibe. She’s more liberal-minded compared to other moms. For them, being with my mom is just like hanging out with an older, single woman whose daughter they just happen to be friends with.

Ma, if you’re reading this, Happy Mother’s day again. See you in June for more shopping and eating.

Smells Like School Spirit

I was a naive young girl when I entered my freshman year in college. I guess most of us were. But my  specific naïveté during my first few months in the University of the Philippines was that I didn’t know that it was a big deal for some people to get accepted in this school. I was the first in my family to go to UP so I had no basis on what the experience would be like. There also wasn’t a lot of pressure to pass the exam. During the Freshmen Assembly when I learned that out of the 60,000 students who took the admissions test, only around 10,000 got accepted, and only a percentage of that 10,000 can get into Diliman, that’s the only time I realized that maybe I should just be proud of myself a little bit for being one of the few who made the cut.

Despite this pride, I never really got the point of judging people based on what school they went to. What irked me most was when we were in our first year, some of my friends already thought they were all that. Guys, just because you went to the same school as another famously intelligent person, doesn’t mean you’re as smart. And if someone did not go to the same school as you did,  it doesn’t necessarily mean you’re smarter than them. Cool it down, people. If your proudest moment in life is getting accepted to UP, then maybe you should re-evaluate  yourself. Or maybe this taking pride in someone else’s achievements is a Filipino thing. Aren’t we proud of any famous person who has a tinge of Filipino blood in them? Whatever it is, it should stop. It’s okay to admire someone for their talent or intelligence, but attributing those skills as your own just because of some tenuous connection as going to the same school is laughable.

It might sound that I’m ungrateful for graduating from this university but I’m not. I’m glad I got accepted. It was an amazing environment for an impressionable young woman like myself. What I loved about UP is that people are generally cool however you roll. If you’re gay or want to uphold LGBT rights, then great. Join the UP Babaylan. You don’t believe in god? There’s a UP Atheist Circle near the College of Arts and Letters. You believe in god? Oh, there’s tons waiting to recruit you. Just hang out anywhere with your friends and they will come. As long as you’re not hurting anyone, you can dress however you want, speak your mind and let your freak flag fly.

This is me being useless during my university graduation.

Fear Factor: Birthing and Raising a Child Edition

I love the idea of having my own kid but when I start thinking about all the things that can go wrong, I get scared for myself and for my imaginary child. Here are some specific fears that I can’t deal with. Please share them with me and hug me and tell me things are going to be all right.

Childbirth. When I was around eight or nine, I saw my aunt give birth in our house and it seemed like a cakewalk. She didn’t scream in pain when she was in labor. And when she lay on her back and pushed for my cousin to come out, it didn’t even last for an hour. That was my template on how labor and childbirth worked until my co-workers shared their own birthing experiences.

I know pregnancy and labor are delicate processes but I never realized how much more awful they are until they had this discussion. They talked about how it just hurts everywhere and you don’t even know where it’s coming from. Or that it’s so painful when the doctor checks how dilated you are. Or that you’re going to poop in front of people. But the thing that horrified me the most was when they said that they cut from your vagina to (but not reaching) your anus so that you will have a larger vaginal opening for the baby’s head to come out. And then they stitch that cut shut but you’re still supposed to deal with peeing having those stitches?! I can’t. I can’t deal with that image.

After giving birth, aside from trading your youthful body to a more huggable one, you will get that signature mom look. You know what I’m talking about. Some ladies you just know that they already have a child because of their facial features. I don’t know what it is but it must be something hormonal. They just have that mukhang nanay feel. You might also want to consider that this could happen to you:

Mariam grew facial hair after giving birth. Deal with that.

Having an ugly kid. I know parents are biased when it comes to their kids and think they’re such gems and unique flowers. A beautiful gift to the world! But let’s get real here, not all of us can be lucky and have good-looking children. I’m not even wishing for a good-looking child. I just want him/her to be cute enough to survive in this world. Just enough to make them work for a sense of humor and personality and not settle on just being pretty. Just please not an ugly kid. I don’t think I can be that kind of parent who feeds her children delusions about their nonexistent talents and beauty because we all know how these kids grow up—annoying assholes.

Let’s look at these two cute kids to calm ourselves down.

Raising a murderous child. Obviously, based on this entry alone, we know that I should have zero number of children. But let’s stretch our imaginations here and say that I become a great mom. There’s still no way to say that my child will turn out to be a decent human being. I remembered this part in Truman Capote’s novel In Cold Blood, during the persecution, the mother of one of the murderers could not believe that his son is capable of killing an entire family. She thought she raised him well. Did she feel guilty? Did she feel partly responsible for creating this monster? I’m sure she thought about where she went wrong in raising her child.

But what if it’s really not your fault? In the movie Stoker, India, played by Mia Wasikowska, thought that killing people is in her nature. And by the end of the movie, she saw no point in fighting it anymore. Can that really be a thing? That you’re just born to kill people? One thing is for sure, I would rather choose to earn the Best/Worst Mom Award by raising a talentless kid than a potential assassin, even if the latter would be a more lucrative venture.

Do you still watch TV?

In days of yore, watching television was the most popular pastime in the world. (Obviously I’m making this up but that’s what it felt like to me. Let me have this.) Owning a television back then meant that you’ve made it. Or at least you’re on your way to making it that your next logical purchase after a television set would be a car. Given our situation back then, I don’t know how we even managed to own a Sony TV. I wax nostalgic whenever I see a television with a sticker that had those dots telling me that “It’s a Sony.”

Remember this, guys?

My earliest TV experience I can remember was watching Sarah: Ang Munting Prinsesa with my cousins. We knew that it was time for Sarah because it came right after the 3 o’clock prayer. Our TV stand was not very ergonomic in that we call it a stand. It was so high that if you watch for too long, your neck would be stiff. We didn’t have TV when we moved into a new apartment so there was a point when we would watch Power Rangers every Friday night sitting on the doorstep of our neighbor. Now I may be over-dramatizing when I say that we had to watch from the neighbor’s door because we didn’t have TV. I just can’t remember if we had to do it because we didn’t have TV at the time or the adults just wouldn’t let us watch Power Rangers because it was in the same time slot as one of Juday’s teleseryes.

Watching TV was the greatest thing. We had quality shows like Hiraya Manawari, Sineskwela, Remi and all the ’90s cartoons. And I never thought it could get any better until we got cable. Oh, it was such a joy to discover that there is an entire channel dedicated to cartoons. And that you could watch movies without being disrupted by commercials. And the best thing of all is that there can be such a thing as a karaoke channel. A KARAOKE CHANNEL, PEOPLE! Get psyched! During the first few weeks we had cable, we would post the movies being shown on HBO on our refrigerator and have a movie marathon every Sunday. We bonded over Jurassic Park, Forrest Gump or The Karate Kid 1, 2 and 3. My mom and I probably also took Gilmore Girls a little too personally because of the single-mom-and-only-daughter story line.

We still have cable but I almost never watch shows on TV anymore. Cable can no longer dictate what shows I could watch and when I could watch them because I get my fix of these things from the comfort of my laptop. What I do miss about watching TV though is the conversation during the show. Last night my friends and I were watching this ridiculous movie Born to Love You on Cinema One starring Coco Martin and Angeline Quinto, and everyone was shouting at the screen either because of Coco’s stupid bangs or the cringe-worthy lines. It was fun. I missed that. These days, we’re usually alone when we watch shows and we share it with people who watch it alone themselves. We tweet or post status updates of our reactions hoping that someone can relate. Sometimes you even have to censor your comments because not everyone has caught up yet to the latest episode or season. And sometimes you feel really alone in your love for a TV series knowing that none of the people you know personally can hug you once the last episode of The Office finally airs. During those times I just want things to be simple again that come Monday when you go back to school, you can just talk about the latest episode of Power Rangers and how cute Kimberly is.

Ugh. Driving.

I’ve been driving for four years now, and I have a love-hate relationship for this skill. The hate side of this relationship, however, has exponentially grown since I started working a nine-to-five job in Makati. And we all know what that means. Right, Makati people? We experience THE WORST TRAFFIC EVERY DAY. No exaggeration. The worst. And to make things even worse, I drive stick.

Driving stick is like one of those badges of honor you flash to lesser people. You complain about it but at the same time you’re bragging (which is what I’m doing, obviously). You know how some people complain/brag that they have so much work to do, or they’re juggling so many things and THERE’S JUST NOT ENOUGH TIME IN THE WORLD FOR THEIR BUSY SCHEDULES?! Just dial that down and that’s how you complain/brag about driving stick.

Before my mom bought our car, she asked me if I wanted manual or automatic transmission. She listed down the pros and cons, and what made me decide to go for the manual transmission was the challenge that it was harder to drive. Women are already discriminated against when it comes to driving, so I thought that I wouldn’t give them any more reason to discriminate against me by driving an automatic car.

I heard someone say that you become a real driver once you scratch your car, which I’ve done early on. But I don’t agree that it’s a measure of anything. For me, I think you’re a good driver if you can navigate through Manila’s traffic driving a stick shift. The sheer patience, skill and strategy it takes is impressive enough. Also, men SHOULD know how to drive stick. (I’m sexist.) They can’t be sissies driving a larger version of a bumper car. Don’t they know there’s so much badassery happening when you have one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear and then you change gears LIKE A BOSS? Can you imagine The Fast and the Furious with automatic cars? And Vin Diesel just sits there like he’s driving Miss Daisy? There would be no 6th installment in that series if that happened. Learning how to drive only automatic is a privilege reserved for old people.  And remember that scene in Perks of Being a Wallflower where Charlie says that tonight we are infinite? I’m pretty sure no one driving an automatic ever had that moment.

This moment is brought to you by Perks of Being a Wallflower and Stick Shift Driving.