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Holiday are so stressful. With graduation, a job and Oxford looming over my head, I'm a nutcase and popping an unhealthy amount of heath bars-currently too poor to pop anything else.
i'm not focused so much on the job or Oxford(the one in England yes) but on the more ominous dark cloud of wool, cashmere, silk and serviceable black trousers.
I need clothes but not in the fun, "I'm going to clubs and parties and need to look as much of a whore as I can get away with using as much money as my conscience and my bank account will allow" type shopping those are fun (backless and low cut-cue to mom's voice telling me I look like my bakla cousin Coco? 300 for polyester cue again to mom informing me of how much a dock worker in Cebu makes)
Ahh the glorious indulgence and impracticality.
but alas, I'm forever leaving my velour days and lame(there's suppose to be a stress on the "e" lame the fabric) nights to venture into what could charitable be called the work world (I say charitable since my lack of any job or job offer makes "work world" a stretch)
So I'm off to banana republic for a wondrous afternoon of merino and cashmere sweaters, work trousers all in the colors of a black and greys of a cebuano rainstrom and brown and beige of dirty OC beaches-all non tropical beaches are dirty to me. water =life. NO life in your water you've poured too much radioactive shit in it. But I digress.
Then it's teh oh so sexy thermals and tights for Oxford.
Honestly how the fuck does agent provocateur get started in such a cold place? You want me in little scrapes of lace and leather it better be warmer than the 50 effin degrees that weather.com says is the norm in london and oxford is even furthur north! damnit, I'm wearing long johns and thermals.
I've order some clothes but I want to be prepared yet be light enough to travel to france, austria and italy without having to line my suitcase.
First stop was neimans, oh how I wished I owned you, all 5.1 billion dollars of you , where I grapped some MJ polos (so cute but I was crestfallen when they didn't have any long sleeved ones and my thermals would have to go on underneath. And a gorgeous gorgeous dress ( also by marc jacobs wc is a current obsession of mine)which I'm determined to wear on the Spanish steps with my Spanish lover -well spanish/slavic lover-and to seal our kiss of true amore! or so goes the legend if not hitting up the outlets in milan would make me almost as happy.
next stop was nordies where I bought rock and republics for the first time and considering tehy were popular two years ago I thought it was about time. It has the classic buttons that I love. and I also ordered a white trench coat. I live! in my caramel trench coat since bay area is as cold as a witch's teat in the winter. Tip if you're small do not wear black it'll make you look even tinier! if you have to wear black -trousers are okay -then make sure it isn't head to toe. I ordered a white verison of my fave trenchcoat.
And that's all I've bought. months in London followed by endless days of corporate lackeyness and I've order four things. It's stressing me out more than my EU class. Fuck my EU class! I need shut up and read.
Things to buy for london:
cashmere beret
cashmere pashmina/scarf
long johns 5
cashmere sweater 3
work:
pants in grey, brown, khaki, black, white
matching jackets for above in grey, khaki and white
button down shirt in pale blue, white, grey
merino sweaters in : beige, white, some pretty pastel color to take my mind off the fact I'm a mere wheel in a economic machine that leaves many of the world in destitute poverty. pale pink should do it.
then shoes.
I'm getting my first pair of manolos. nude. three inches. butter soft leather. shoe orgasms ensue.
that put me in a better mood. time for stats, eu and human rights.
That has been today in our edition of "Tiffany's closet" her wardrobe and neurosis join us next time for Tiffany's purses: a journey of a thousand tears and logos.
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| saw casino royale.
great movie.
Daniel craig is amazing and hot. So hot.
The french sometimes call people "ugly/pretty" like angelica houston ugly but pretty and same with SJP.
An really interesting concept, that beauty need not be perfect or symmetrical or even pleasing.
Daniel craig is the much much hotter male version of that.
His face is ugly, cheeks have deep groves in them as if he was aprize fighter back in the day, his eyes are almost too blue, his lips boring, his face oval instead of that square jawed look that's typically male beauty but damn the overall package is ridiculously attractive. (Much more so than Pierce Brosnan who more often than not would be too pretty for my taste he managed to out pretty Sophie M. a lauble accompishment for any femme fatale but not for her majesty's best.)
Anyhoo on too the rugged wowwowee that is the new bond. His face is a gorgeous mess and not to mention his body is perfection. Like Hayden's in ROTS. Masculine ideal. Not too chiseled not thin but just man(though not gross like arnold who I saw speak this week, completely unimpressed).
From rugged masculinity to surprisingly enthralling geekiness, I met Bill Gates on Wednesday. (for this occassion I dressed up, pale pink wool sweater, jersey dress, spanx stockings, the coach white bag which needs a cleaning and my fave white gold and gold pave necklace). He was...captivating. He looks exactly as he does on TV but with much more vitality and dare I say virility? Yeah that sounds right, virile in the truest sense of the word. Powerful. Potent. He carries his influence and wealth gracefully making tasteful jokes about being able to through around a billion here and there(in teh guise of charity so it was more funny than offensiive). He speaks like an academic but with the practicallity of a sari sari store owner. He kinda renews my fave in capitalism. He uses his managerial and entreprenuerial skills which are unbelievable to good works, utilizing his wealth in ways that lack the wastefulness and sloth of governments. He in his own way is captivating you couldn't keep your eyes off him if you tried. And I saw Arnold which was a big dissappointment. He was bleh!
And that's my week in hot men(and one lukewarm goevrnator) everybody.
SO yeah. Arnold looks like a blonde bimbo in real life and speaks like it too, daniel craig is hot as hell (my mouth watered at some parts yowzah! I can't wait to get to britain) and I'm going to see my baby drewsky!
Yay!
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| how was my weekend?
great fun actually.
wentto mausoleum party. was pretty creepy and my effing feet were killing me.
I was a vampire. a slutty vampire but my cape thankfully covered me up.
everyone looked so cutre in their costumes.
Got to see tons of friends which is good.
Had a great time with the BF we went susching on saturday night (outfit grey shortsleeve jacket, sevens, hot pink tube) and had an awesome dessert- godiva chocolate cake! yummm!
then sunday was uneventful , monday went shopping!
found amazing deals- marc jacobs pants, bcbg gauzy top and a necessary objects eyelet dress which is fabulous perfect length and everything!
which kinda brings me to something i realized.
I'm really a girl's girl.,
men are fine and I of course love my bf but I love women generally much more then men. I feel a kinship to them and a compassion for them that I just don't feel for men.
I have tons of great male friends but my female friends, my mom, my sisters are truly incomparable. They undersatnd me and are kind and considerate in ways that NO man can ever hope to compare.
People give so much credit to men for the smallest favour or consideration they show. A guy doesn't cheat on his wife? so faithful, such a catch.
But sisterhood is almost always faithful where are their valentines day? when are steadfast girlfriends who pick up the pieces of broken heart thoughlessless discarded?
it's blasted unfair.
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| Fuck I had the sacriest experience!
I was asleep in deep sleep and then somehow I became consciousin my dreams.
I do that a lot actually....
become conscious in my dreams but man this time it was really scary since I couldn't for the life of me wake up!
Usually I would just really concentrate on moving my hand or pinhcing myself and then I would awake but this time my body felt sooo tired sooo tired. My arms were like lead. I tried to do the pinching tehcnique but it wouldn't work.
In my dreams, I tried to get awake and became more and more violent as I started to panic. I tried flinging myself off teh bed. I tried to hit myself on the rail...in my dream I imagine my body on my bottom half of the bunk A few times i felt myself awake...I even saw my roomie come in and talked to her a bit but I was feeling so tired and I wanted to get up so badly.....it was sooo scary I felt so helpless...finally i feel into unconsciousness ....
I had eric ask dr. dement about it , he's a sleep expert her at stanford and he said I had gained consciousness during REM cycle sleep which is veyr very rare....my body and my brain were still doing "repairs" and was sending waves through my brain and that's why it was so hard for me to get up.
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| I miss Cebu.
It shocks me since I had hated it so much. Resented my parents my brother so much for making me live there and "ruining my life."
But now I dream of it.
Now all I want to go home not to Orange County and the mediterean tile gilded existence which I nevertheless loved but to a country, a place a people. With whom I have nothing in common but love none the same.
Asides from my love and my family, I've always thought my life my passion, my choices have been defined by two things:
My love of leanring and my love of clothes.
I love knowledge thirst for it. My admiration for the intellectual knows no bounds.
Get me a MacArthur genius over an Abercrombie model anyday.
I'd rather do Steven Hawking than Hayden Christensen and man do I find Hayden hott.
In many ways I feel at home at Stanford because most of the people regardless of how intelligent and educated they are have that thirst that fire in their eyes the need to learn the desire to do so.
I can quote from books, refer to journalist and ideas and concepts and we learn from one another. I've had a black southern belle who is now a rather hard core feminist and LGBT activist, a Jewish future doctor/enviornmentalist, a Mexican wannabe Amy Tan, A Russian princess who is going into alternative energy speaks four languages and has a weakness for Cavalli and now a London educated Nigerian queen whose love of marc jacobs belies a heart that's set on managing AIDS in Africa. I've learned so much from all of them and I couldn't imagine not being around such amazing people
and Orange County...
le sigh...
the mecca of consumerism and materialism. Where ugg with miniskirts weren't a trend but a religion. The ubiquitous LV logo with the seven jeans...I loved it too. My gorgeous friends who wouldn't go the the mail box without eyeliner...
Beautiful well in their sheer beauty. Finally a place where they can appreciate my rock and republic jeans and tahari shirt. For even stanford students who can quote choamsky at the drop of a hat and program in their sleep can't seem to dress themselves worth a damn.
Fashion is our art, diane von frustenberg, bcbg, chloe and stella our cezamma klymt and matisse
yet despite the intellectual stimulation of stanford and the glamour of orange county...I still miss cebu.
Where education is simply regurgutation, where fashion is well let's just say paris has nothing to fear from the denizens of cebu.
But still, I miss the air, I miss the food, I miss speaking cebuano I miss going to ayala, I miss fish balls, I miss everything....
I even miss my relatives...
It doesn't feel the same, the lack of dior shops, libraries, intellectuals and fashionistas not withstanding I miss my home. I never felt comfortable there, like a well educated well dressed fish out of water...yet I've never been quiete comfortable anywhere else.
I long for it now but my tempetuos relationship with my birthland is prone to wariness on both my part and their. I waver between a need for them to accept me -feeling like I'm rushing to an exclusive sorority of which I'll know i'll never be a part or and a disdain for their lack of tolerance, for ideas, for uniqueness, for Orange County bred, Stanford edcuated Cebuana who desperately want a place to belong.
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