Accepting Feedback

I read this article today in Pyschology Today about "How to Take Feedback." It made me think about a lot of the inner turmoil I've been experiencing lately, and it gave some very great perspective.

The one that I've learned over the years, and is even mentioned in this article, is to never give feedback when you are mad or in a bad mood. It is guranteed that you will be misunderstood and I learned the hard way. All my life I've been predisposed to criticism, but there are just some years I don't take it well.

Some people never open themselves to feedback, and like sky diving , it's hard to do. Being a dancer, an artist, and now a writer I have to check my emotions all the time.

As I've gotten older I've learned to detach my work from myself. Feedback of my work is not feedback on my character or my integrity, it just allows for more room to grow.

I need to look at life the same way. If I receive feedback from people, take the note and move forward. Lately, receiving feedback has been feeling like open firing ranges towards my gut. I recognize that I'm at a sensitive point in time. It won't always be this way.

There was a great quote that I learned today. Although my roomate laughed when I told him.

"A boat is always safe in the harbor, but that is not where it belongs. It belongs at sea."

PMSTA Reading

Bindlestiff Studio had their Wordy Word Wednesday last night, an open mic for artists that are virgin or returning to the stage.

PMSTA hosted last night with great turnout and support. I'm very excited about the show, and a part of such a great collective. The show has a lot of sass and reflection. I felt that the material was met with a positive response.

My friend Tonilyn read my piece on the mic. She's pretty bubbly and outgoing, and wanted to meet the challenge of playing a psycho. She did a really great job! It was weird for me to hear my words being read back to me.

It was empowering for many reasons. I'm relieved to have let go of a lot traumatic experiences through this process. I've turned it into a pretty funny story, and as a result I've learned to let a lot of things go.

I like the phrase "moving forward" more than moving on. Moving on is so definite and unforgiving when you have a bad day. I've moved forward, although some days I veer to the side. My writing and my dreams continue to keep me positive and I still have a lot to look forward to.

Thanks PMSTA

The Favorite Fag Hag

I've started a new writing project called The Favorite Fag Hag. It's a tongue and cheek blog about the life of the lovely ladies that hang out with gays. The blog will be a mix of my own personal narratives, and hopefully will act as a guide or a source of laughter for other women and their gay BFF's.

I FUCKING hate Tumblr. I've spent about three hours trying to find a template that I only KIND OF like. They have all these different graphic designers that submit templates, but you can't adjust the font or the layout, so you are stuck with whatever bullshit they have.

The only reason I'm drawn to using it, is because I am not a graphic designer and I don't know codes, so I have to suck it up and just bend over for Tumblr. It would be good to be exposed to another writing community, so I'm just going to be hopeful and not go to sleep pissed.

I can't believe I spent that much time to look for a stupid template, but so far I've already posted three entries, and it's been fun reminiscing about a great time in my life.

Please check out The Favorite Fag Hag!

Death of a Player Photoshoot

My natural state of being is either being a lazy ass couch potato or a busy busy bee.

We had a photoshoot for our women's collective on Saturday, which turned out to be really fun. A professional makeup/hair stylist worked with us, and I haven't felt this pampered in a minute!

With only three hours of sleep and in my sweats, I was looking a hot mess.

I got my face shellacked and hair all done did and I felt a million times better about getting in front of a camera.

I did my best to pull of the YSL Le Smoking look, hoping that I didn't look like a chola catering a wedding. My solo shots were in homage to the infamous YSL campaign, and I will post them as soon as I get the shots.

I always enjoy seeing the Bindlestiff women. I've known all of them for almost a decade now, and they are truly sisters in a dysfunctional Filipino family.

Why else would I continue to work with these crazy ass breezys? I look forward to this show and seeing all the stories come together. It represents a new chapter in all of our lives, and also for Bindestiff. Who knew that we all had to get grown to grow?

Robyn - Dancing On My Own

It gets better every time. Sometimes you think you're just gonna die. Well I'm not dead yet. I make sure my nails, hair, and fits are on point. I look for the gayest of the gay anthems to pick me up. Like Janice Dickinson says, "I'm going to be the best looking corpse on the planet."

The True Inspiration for This Blog

I just want to give a shout out to my Jeffy Poo.

It is our snarky conversations that inspired the title for this blog.

If you are a true bootch, Jeff will usually be the one to anoint you.

He has no idea how much inspiration he gives me both artistically and spiritually.

I never take for granted the journey we've endured *high five*

And yes. That is a snuggie -_-

Jo Koy at The San Jose Improv

Omg this picture makes me SWOON! Except I kinda look like a CHEESE Monster.

So there is a long journey that proceeded this picture, which I would to name "MY DREAM PROM DATE!"

Jo Koy is regular on Chelsea Lately, which is a show that is basically my pacifier before I go to sleep. I jokingly tell folks that Jo Koy is my baby daddy, and some don't get it, but whatever I'm a sucker for dudes that make me laugh.

Aivy and I were supposed to see him last year at the San Francisco Comedy improv, and the tickets did say " Jo Koy." *Scout's Honor*

When Aivy and I got to our seats, I noticed that there were NO Filipinos to be seen, which I thought was kinda odd. I was in denial that I had bought tickets for the wrong show, so I decided to sit through the show, because... I'm stupid.

Aivy and I sat through three hours of HORRIBLE stand up comedy. With one lousy comic after another, I had hoped in my little angelic heart that Jo Koy was going to be closer to this awful madness.

The last comic is about to perform. My heart my beating, and I'm thinking "This better be Jo Koy...... or I'm going to HULK SMASH the whole city of San Francisco.

The comic says, "Let me introduce our very last comic..... JOOOOOOO...........*insert White guy last name*" NO NO NO NO NO!!!!!!!!!!!! ra;oev ropq4iuq4p39by6pu35r[34089~!!!!!!!!!!!!

Well I caught wind that he was coming to San Jose improv during the week I would be in the Bay. So Aivy and I got tickets to see him. The show was funny as HELL! He was funnier in person than he is on Chelsea Lately.

I stood in line and my heart was HELLA pumping. When I was at the front of the line I tried to contain my cheeseball smile. I properly waited till he was done with the big Vietnamese group in front of me. We locked eyes, and I DIED! I walked to him slowly, and I couldn't say a freaking word. He noticed that we were wearing the same thing, and he asked me about my jacket. Then he said to me, "You're pretty. What's your name?"

Cue CHRISTINA DYING! OMG OMG OMG!!!!!!!!

After the show Aivy and I wanted to do some booty shaking. We walk over to the club that is behind our car. It's about 1AMAfter refusing to pay $20 for one hour of dancing at a whack ass club. The security guard treats me like Helen Keller, and physically walks me to the box office, and points to sign with the $20 admission fee.

Wow, what. A. Dick. Head.

So decide to go to the FREE bar next to the San Jose Improv and guess who is there?

Tee hehehe! I get an even better with him than I did just two hours before.

There are two lessons to be learned here. Great things ALWAYS come to those who WAIT, SUFFER, and SMASH!!!!!!!!!

Two, do not get suckered into pay $20 for a dumb club at 1AM.

As Aivy and I leave the San Jose, the city that we loathe, there is a fight taking place behind our car.

"Aivy is that real?"

"Yes it is. Lets go."

Let me tell you that the fight was super sorry to the point that I couldn't tell if it was real. LOL

Oh what a night! Thanks Aivy for going through the whole journey with me ;)

Sacrifices Will Lead to Greatness....Hopefully

I haven't been Catholic for ten years. It started when I was in college (of course), and I got my first introduction to Filipino history.

When I learned about the length of torture and manipulation, that it took to colonize the Filipinos into law abiding Spanish Catholics, I was convinced that being Catholic was not my path.

I associate it with being a mindless drone. There are all these damn rules that make no sense, and if you relate our religion to our home country, it explains so much. We burden ourselves with so many rules, and we kinda follow them, but we have to uphold the appearance that they matter.

I know I pricelined my first class ticket to hell, but I guess I'm still kinda Catholic, because I just feel a little guilty about it.

So this heathen would like to talk about Lent, the most favorite Catholic time of the year. It is a time for sacrifice, or as I would like to note, its the only time that Filipinos will actually go on a diet.

My whole race can throw their damn stones at me, but it's true. Within the hour after ash Wednesday I see on Facbebook "I'm giving up, meat, soda, rice, sugar, candy, etc." *Induce Christina eye roll here* I realize that in the tradition of Lent you are supposed to give up ALL animal products, but Catholics as usual bend the rules to fit their needs.

Lets read the fine print, what folks are really saying is that they are going on a diet for Jesus. They are not sacrificing for Jesus, but rather looking skinny at the end of forty days in the name of Jesus. Yeah I said it, and at some point I would like to write a successful book called the "Lent Diet," which is really based on guilt and hypocrisy.

Now lets to go to "the pot calling the kettle black" section of this rant. I have a mindless shopping addiction. In this past year I have been in about $6,000 in credit card debt and I am just about to pay it off. This spending is attributed for need for escapism and my American desire for instant gratification. Although, my expenses in Los Angeles are lower than in SF, my income was chopped in half. Whether it's dealing with loneliness or boredom, spending eases the time.

I'm taking on the challenge to not buy a f'ing thing for myself for forty days. It actually might be more than that, because I started doing this before ash Wednesday. I would like this to include food, but I kinda need that. However, if I had to choose eating burrata over American cheese there's no harm in spending the extra dough right ;)

My very good friend Tinna who co-writes the blog, Beauty Synergy, looked at me with the most tragic reaction when I declared my sacrifice. "But, you love shopping!," she exclaimed. By the look on her face, you could have sworn I told her I was cutting my right arm off.

I painfully replied, "I know." The truth hurt me as well. We both love shopping and the girly thrill that goes with it. Hiding merchandise from boyfriends, roomates, and friends are tales that we both share. She felt my pain, and she's a good friend for it.

If having a Catholic upbringing has taught me anything, it's that it's good to pause on the things that give you pleasure, so that you can have more time for the things that matter. The world is a crazy ass place right now. I have a couple of lost souls in my circle right now, and we are all trying to "Get our swag back."

Clothes and things represent fabulousness and comfort, but I have enough clothes to cover this big ole ass of mine, and enough joy to get me through my days. I try to take moments to my day to note in my mind what I am thankful for. That is of course, when I am not daydreaming about the new outfit I am going to buy when I get my first real paycheck :)

Besides, not shopping in Los Angeles is my own personal hell, so stop rolling your eyes!

Be a man

I have a photo shoot in a week, which is one of the reasons I've been hitting it hard at the gym. The theme is still Death of a Player.

We agreed that our look would be androgynous menswear a'la Janelle Monae. However, Janelle is a stick, and menswear compliments her frame.

I googled pictures of more curvy ladies, such as Kim Kardashian in menswear, but it just looks hella generic.

At the moment, I'm looking up Drag Kings to get another perspective on how to accomplish this look.

I've been pretty hooked on Ru Paul's dragrace for the past couple of months. In a way watching that show makes me feel like a woman whenever I get the urge to lay around in T-shirt and sweats.

If there is anything to take away from that show, it's that it's a ritual to look your prettiest, and you should spend however amount of time you need to get ready, in order to feel like a million bucks when you walk out the door. Also drag queens show us that you can accomplish any look, you just need the make up, the application techniques, and the time.

Ideally, I want my look to be something like this.

<----------------------------

Shall I call this look "Butch Elegance?"

In my dream of dreams I would like a white tuxedo jacket, with black underneath. I want to look like a hot chick that is torn between Scarface and Casablanca.

This will no doubt require some digging into my dad and brother's closets. Maybe a trip to thrift store.

I don't want to look completely like a dude, but because our monologues plays with gender roles, we thought it would be a good idea to do this theme for the promotion. This photo shoot is going to be really fun.

If the men on Ru Paul's drag race can make transforming into a woman look like a walk in the park, I can manage to find a look for next Sunday.

Wu Tang Clan - I Can't go to sleep

As usual. Sleep is an indicator of my mental state.

Japan, March 2011

This is my favorite picture from our recent trip to Japan just two months ago.

Our tour guide from the Ghost and Goblins tour, asked us to end our journey at the Tokyo Asakusa temple, and cleanse any bad spirits that may have attached themselves.

It was right after the new year, and as you can see from this picture, the Japanese were so hopeful.

It is beyond my imagination that within two months the Japanese would be experiencing the worst natural disaster to ever take place.

In the midst of a horrible time, I'm looking into my own resources, thoughts, and intentions to figure out how I can help.

Japan keeps us in awe in everything that they do. Everyone I've met from Japan are incredibly kind, and unlike our horrible debacle during hurricane Katrina, I think the rest of the world is looking to Japan to show us how to do it right.

The rest of the world is eager to help, and we hope and pray that we are not meeting another nuclear crisis. Japan is in my thoughts and in my heart.

Currently Trying the Gel Manicure

Through thick and thin, come hell or high water, my hands need to look good. I hate shaking hands with people, with my nails looking busted.

I've had pink and white on my nails for pretty much the past year. A pink and white creates the look of a french manicure, but instead of using nail polish, you use pink and white powder. It's little more expensive than getting acrylic, but for me it was more cost effective because I would only need to go once a month.

The pink and white was great, and of course a French manicure always looks elegant, but I was sick of looking like I was going to a wedding.

So I went to Lynn's Nails in Beverly Hills. They had great reviews on Yelp, and I saw that they did gel manicures.

The gel manicure is supposed to last 2-4 weeks depending on how good your manicurist is. With my nails looking like blushing bride for the past year, I went the complete opposite and decided to do Morticia Black.

As soon as the pink and white powder came off, I felt my nails instantly take a breath. I'll update you on the status of my hands in two weeks.

A Beginner's Guide To Paris

My friend posted this article today. I love Paris, but Americans often be naive when it comes to visiting the most beautiful city in the world. These tips would have helped. Please enjoy A Beginners Guide to Paris from NubbyWiglet.com

Gap Year

My cousins from Australia were the first to expose me to the concept of a Gap year. A gap year (also known as year abroad, year out, year off, deferred year, bridging year, time off and time out) is a year during which students take time off and do something other than schooling, such as travel or work. The gap year is most commonly taken after secondary school and before starting university. However over recent years there has been an increase in 21-23 year olds taking a gap year after completing their degree.

I've worked full time for the past five years, and looking back. As any American knows, it's very frowned upon to take time off or to take a break. It is almost an obsession to be worth as much as the money that we make.

Unlike my European counterparts, I cannot travel anymore. I'm tired of having a credit card debt. I'm facing the truth that I have no dinero. This is probably why most Americans don't take a Gap year, unless they are on unemployment or living on credit.

What I was first perceived as a death in my career and spirit, was actually a gift of a gap year. I'm not sure if this would have had the same effect if I had done this right after college. I have a different sense of worth now than I did back then.

As I prepare for round two in the UCLA writers extension program, I am grateful that I struggled to get here.