Sometimes I question whether or not my hives still come every day... Maybe my quasi-illness has subsided and I'm just taking medicine for nothing! Somtimes I want to test not taking any of my medications at all (there are 3).

And then there are nights like tonight, when I forget to take my meds at all and then 3 hours later I realize because it feels like my body has been doused with hot oil. I don't know, obviously, what that feels like, but it's definitely an intense burn and itch covering my entire body. I quickly become red and inflamed. I've likened it to a REALLY bad sunburn: hurts to the touch, burns so much I feel a little feverish stemming from just below the skin, itchy but too tender to itch without pain, redness. Oh, and include swollen hands, fingers, toes, facial features, and the pads of my feet.

I really hope one day this subsides, one day really soon. Cause it really is unbearable.

The Cosmo Blues

For some reason, lately, I've felt very out of touch with the women of the world and sometimes with being a woman myself. It's kind of a strange thing... I've never felt any sort of shame or embaressment or closed-ness about every part of my feminity but I kind of do all of a sudden... As if there is private information that i can't let on to everyone else. Which, as I'm sure many of you know, is SO not my style!

And today, while doing my FAVORITE thing (walking aimlessly in the drug store), after having a brief period talk with Danielle, I suddenly realized I haven't read a woman's magazine in a LONG time. I somehow missed it. I missed glamour photoshop shots and TMI filled sex surveys. I tend to stay away from them because I despise the advertisements of disembodied women and seeing the fashion shoots with women making dead faces/murdered faces and the whole "how to please your man" constant theme. It makes me sick. I think I might hate everything a woman's fashion magazine stands for. All the blonde, skinny, perfect, and normalized girls make me sad. I tend to read nat. geo.s, newsweeks, the occasional rolling stones, various arts and crafts mags, and even a popular science every so now and again. In a perfect world I could let go of my wedding magazine obsession. In defense of that one they usually have very little to do with women or murdered looking fashion. It's all about favors and fonts and dresses and colors and cakes, my favorite things! And plus, any kinds ofmagazines that feature different letterpress companies are 10 points, by me.

BUT ANYWAYS! Today I suddenly wanted to read one. front to cover. As a compromise I just browsed one while in the store. I skimmed the "what men want in bed" survey that took up like 4 pages, I laughed at the "are you bad girl hot or good girl hot?" quiz, and I only glanced at the fashion spread. Then I stumbled on something that's relatively normal women's mag sort of stuff that I kind of forgot about...

The part where it's actually about women. it talked about bodies and periods and girl-like questions and feelings. I found myself surprised that there were things *I* actually think and wonder about. It answered questions for me that I haven't thought to google, didn't pick up in any of my many health classes, and my sciences mags didn't answer.

I put the magazine back and went aboutmy drugstore trip. I squished the dr. scholl's insoles, I picked out unshreddable floss, I oggled highlights and pencils that I don't need, I browsed condoms.

And then on my way home it started to sink in... That small section was a small consolation to women across the contry that, "hey, you aren't alone. You're normal. That thing that happens to your body that you're too embaressed to ever ask your girlfriends about? It happens to plenty of us! There's nothing wrong with you!" And that's nice.

In a haystack of bad things, I found a good one. And that's not so bad.

Howdy

Items I have for my costume:

• Cowboy man shirt hemmed for girly body minus sleeves = long cute shirt / too short dress
• Cowboy kids hat made of straw with a cowboy star on the front
• Kick ass cowboy boots from thrift shop

I'm also adding pre-owned (meaning I already owned them) denim shorts. And I'm still hoping to get a cute white dress and a belt. Also, I am convinced my locket is somewhat western. And so are my peacock feather earrings I've yet to wear.

Bitching

Because I'm tired, on my period, and a little crabby can I just saying something? And it'll be along the same lines of my usual comments in the middle of the night:

Now that we're out of high school and slowly gathering steam in our 20's, is it too much to ask that people not blog about: wah wah, no one cares about me. boo hoo, all my friends aren't really my friends. And I wish someone would come and think about ME for once.

cause ew. No one cares about you? either keep it to yourself or learn to care about yourself. Your friends aren't your friends? then dump them, get new ones, or be alone. Because it's better to know you have no friends than to have fake friends and beg them via blog to care about you. Also, if you're asking to be the center of attention, chances are that this request isn't a one time thing, so get over it. As much as we wish it did, the world doesn't revolve around you.

these sort of sentiments are normal, healthy, albeit annoying ones when we're 16, 17, or hey, even 18. But 22? 23? Don't people start having a bit of security by then?

Get a life.

On a positive note: I had a great day. Puppy classes, nap, hang outs, little bit of the babysitting, a couple of walks, too many s'mores, and a mediocre movie. The bests. Also, my puppy is sleeping in the bathroom right now, COMPLETELY knocked out. It's freakin' adorable.

Another thing to complain about: I think my jacket with my keys in it was stolen. The jacket was like a couple hundred bucks a handful of years ago and it's like 100 to get a new key for my car. My house keys, while replacable, kind of hold a lot of sentimental meaning, as silly as that is. I've had this one keychain since I first started learning to drive at like 15, there's a gift key that Adam has a match to, a little lock that I've had since I was 17. They aren't terribly important things, but things I'd like to have back nonetheless. Also, the convenience factor.

Nine thing to be happy about

A list of awesome things from my day!

1. Sleeping in.
2. Cute puppy being not that bad.
3. Making suncatchers
4. seeing an episode of Wizards that I've never seen before
5. Hip hop class!
6. Ice cream
7. Getting to hang out with Danielle (shout out!)
8. Nighttime walk with the dogs and my dad (and we even got along!)
9. Tofu, broccoli, and tonkatsu for dinner (did everyone know that my mom is probably one of the BEST, most diverse, and gourmet cooks EVER?)

What could possibly make this day any better?

Only time will tell.

The Cowboy Times

Cowboy costume almost complete!!!!

I should make and wear and do costume WAY more often.

Some more that I'm dying to put together:

• Sailor
• 70's disco queen

OK wait, that's a short list... But these are ones I quite sincerely want.  Costume themes that I'd love to actually integrate into everyday life!

About Me

I've lately been thinking about: If I had to describe myself quite sincerely, without irony or embaressment myself in several qualities, what would I say? Almost, a MySpace about me without the networking, whorey pictures, and minus TheSpace. If I had to simplify myself in, to pick an arbitrary number, 5 qualities, what would be most important? here's what I've come up with so far.

• I am Brown. Yes, this is at the top of the list. And to be completely honest I rarely even consider myself first asian or first filipino. First, I am brown. I haven't decided if this is a good thing or a bad thing. Growing up in a place that's predominantly caucasian, I don't hesitate to say that being so brown was... different. There were times that I would have given almost anything to be able to have pretty light hair or be able to consider myself "fair" skinned but I've grown up since then. I've had no choice but to learn to embrace and love the fact that I'm brown. I can't vouch for whether or not my color made my life any easier or harder but I can say it has defined in some way.
• I am a very habitual person. That is to say, once I've developed a habit it's a thousand times hard for me to break it and if something is outside of my norm it's hard for me to incorporate it as a new habit. This is one of the reasons I don't let myself dabble in drinking or drugs: once I'm there I'd let myself fall into it full force. Being habitual is a very fine line between beign a person prone to obsessions or addictions. This also applies to my relationships: I'm either all in or all out. When i have to quit a friend or a habit, it's like detox. I feel the entire spectrum of emotions swining from one to the other in seconds and barely scraping by, I have to drag myself out of it inch by inch, almost not escaping death.
• I was an English major. When it came to thinking about school, even though I graduated as a legal studies major, I'm much more like an english major in every sense of it. My first memories of being angry was anger at the fact that I couldn't read yet when I was 4. It isn't abnormal or surprising for me to stay up all night for weeks at a time if I'm interested in a series of books enough. I practically define myself by the books I read: classics because I can't come to grips with the everyday life of modern literature, magical realism because I'm such a dreamer that reality couldn't ever be enough, and love stories because I could never fall out of love with love.
• I'm from a pretty big family. And I feel like no one could ever truly know me until they know my family, if even only to see how we're all exactly the same (and all exactly opposites). My parents have been together for 32( 31? 33?) years and they've had kids like this: Sonny, (18 mos.) Grace, (2 yrs), Santiago, (6 yrs) Me, and then (12 yrs.) Emily. And to tell a little about all of them in just a couple of words. My mom was from the dirtiest, poorest part of some city or other in the philippines (so i've been told) and she's half crazy, half hilarious, and half super bad ass. I think we're too alike and it puts us at odds. All of our flaws are the same so we haven't yet managed to find a way to be close. My dad's family was so rich in the philippines that they owned a zoo and when his dad died he was willed PLANTATIONS. Both my parents come from pretty turbulent (and interesting) family backgrounds which I may get into at a future date. Both were in a gang as teenagers, had kids early, and are now super paranoid about pretty much anything that can harm. My brother Sonny is currently.... thirty.... something... 31? He's got 4 kids ranging in age from 14 to 4. He looks like a teddy bear, is a total goof ball to everyone but me and so far has proved hard to actually know. My sister Grace is the family member I'm closest to. Even though we're 8 years apart I like to think that a majority of our lives we've been best friends. She can be a little aggressive, a little obstinate, and occassionally a little scary, but she always means well. She's also the biggest scaredy cat in the world and owner of co-fraidy cat, Tsunami. Then there's my brother Santi, he's 2... 20.... 28? And he has a baby named Zoey who I babysat for a little while. We're currently in a fight in a big sort of way and I'll sum it up in saying that he's a really volatile kind of guy. He thinks he can make his own rules no matter what that implies: sometimes good and sometimes bad. And then there's my little sister, only 10. I'm babysitting her and trying to teach her how to be a kid. She's mostly really nervous, pretty lazy, way paranoid (direct from the parentals), but all around a good kid. I could get into my family for PAGES but I'll stop myself here, even though I've rambled for quite some time. I hate my family, sometimes I like my family, but there's no ifs, ands, or buts about it, They're one of the biggest parts of me.
• And for the long awaited number 5!!! What else is there to me? I guess I might as well admit I'm just a hardcore romantic. I love Love and I spend at least a little bit of time every day contemplating the meanings, boundaries, and stretches of love. I've come up with mor elove analogies and metaphors than anyone cares to know, I suck up love stories via book, tv, movies, and friends' lives like it were water. There's nothing I'm more excited to talk about than someone's recent fall into love, out of love, problems with love, or exaltations. I've got a pretty stable love life myself (5 years and going strong to number 6 in a couple of months) so when I say that I love love, I really mean it. I don't love flings or affairs or people cheating twenty million times. I don't care for half assed definitions of love. We're all allowed different takes or even mistakes but fake love is one thing and actual love is another. I opt for the second.

And so, that's me. For those of you that know me, was I right? Was I wrong? Do I have a really slanted perception of myself?

And what about you? I think everyone should do it. So world, What are 5 things that truly define you?

Sunday Funday

Here's what feels like the fact of the matter:

In order to get my life together I need a job. And in order to get a job I really need to get my life together.

If the world were perfect and it were easy to follow what we want to do and there were no such thing as a need for money then maybe all of this would be easier to figure out.

I don't know what I want to do with my life. I have barely a clue. I know what I DON'T want to do, which I guess is a start. I just have to sort out what exactly is the path to the end.

I have to stop feeling so down and out about myself because it's kind of gross and it really doesn't help anything. We're all allowed to feel a little lost sometimes just not all the time.

I'm a work in progress, and really, I'm trying. It's a long and sometimes ugly road. It's the journey that's important. And at least I'm sure of a couple of things:

I going to do it. And I deserve it.

Complaints

Today my little sister asked me a question that suddenly made me put my life into a new life. I'm the kind of person that doesn't always understand myself or the things I do or my life in general until I'm asked to explain it. That's part of the reason I blog. But either way, my little sister asked me if in high school if there was a certain college I was looking forward to. And in my usual rather forward and blunt fashion I decided to tell the truth. And for the first time I put it into words. I told her:

About half way through high school I gave up on myself. I stopped believing I could do anything and I stopped wanting good things for myself. I gave up on school and so I did really badly. So when graduation time came around, I couldn't even believe I could get into any college. I didn't even want to try. So I went to community college.

Not to say community college was all that bad, or that's why everyone goes there. It did me good for the 2 or 3 years I went. But for the first time I actually looked it in the face. I have the tendacy to just give up on myself. It comes down to it and I can't believe in myself.

And what an ugly, horrible quality. What a pathetic, sniveling quality.

Take dance for instance: I danced almost my entire life. Since I was 4 years old because my mom thought I would love to be a ballerina because I walked on my tip toes all the time. And almost every day I danced I loved it. I wasn't any good, that much is inevitable. I was a goose in a class of swans. I was in this prolonged ugly stage as a brace-faced super dark brown girl in a room of perfect nosed, piano playing, and bone-thin girls. But that shouldn't have mattered. Because I wasn't there to be a star, I wasn't there to go to dance college or be the lead in the recital. I was there because I loved it. But I got so tired of being the one that stood out and being told I was only a copper or a bronze or getting the sympathy silver. We literally had exams every year and we were GRADED. I cried everytime I got my grade back because I put so much of my heart into it. So I walked away. I can't even remember what I told myself to justify quitting, I just remember feeling heart broken, like I let myself down. In the face of adversity instead of shining, I gave up on myself.


How does one start believing again? How?

New laptop!!

GPOYW: Monday, bored, and playing with my webcam edition.

See, I can be like all the other internet girls. Aren't I just as cute?

Real life rambles: Hip-Hop class tonight!!! Also attempting to try ballet and contemporary classes. Just started Tango Argentino with Adam.