- sexy underwear
- scented lotions
that list today:
kittens skirts/dresses sexy underwear
jewelry home-making showering
as the only girl in the family, growing up with brothers wasn’t a tough thing to do if you thought you were a boy yourself. i remember having to look down at my clothes to verify my gender before walking into the appropriate bathroom (not that it mattered, anyway, since my tiny tomboyish frame was always dressed in boys clothes). but it was that confusing for me. at home, my brothers and i would wrestle, play in the mud, and collect comic books. at school, i would get into fights with boys, have burping contests, and talk about punching things because i thought i was a badass.
over time, hormones sanded my rough edges and a desire to be more socially accepted as a female made me refine my actions and demeanor. but emotions became more overwhelming than i had ever experienced at the time (probably ever). at 15, i remember being up at 5am, crying at an episode of saved by the bell on tbs. zack was perfect for kelly! why did she have to choose jeff over him?!
it was dumb then, and i still think it’s dumb now — crying, that is. but only because my emotions annoyingly bring me to tears way more than it did 15 years ago. crying is perfectly okay (and encouraged) when you have good reason to do it. and, let’s face it, boys are never not going to be dumb. so crying over some dumb thing a dumb boy did can be dumbfounding, but reasonable. just learn from it and don’t let that dumb boy do anything dumb to you again.
oh, and my love for home-making? well, that’s an entirely new thing that i just discovered. it’s funny how traditional gender roles developed organically in my last relationship. neither of us were expecting anything of the sort, but being a nurturer by nature(r), i found myself filling my time with making a clean/cute home, cooking dinners, cross-stitching and offering “my other” a beer after a long day’s work. he, in turn — because he was making that sweet cartoon money while i was on hiatus — took me out and picked up the bill without hesitation. don’t get me wrong; i wouldn’t quit my day job now that i have one (and i’m not looking to be taken care of), but i really enjoyed it at the time, and i could see myself being really happy doing that if i ever get tired of the workforce.
these days, i’ve noticed my interests changing. i just got into scented lotions. girls nights with whiskey (one manly exception), face masks and manicures appeal to me. i tell myself that i enjoy them like i enjoy a terrible nicholas cage movie: they’re so silly, how could you not? but underneath my semi-satirical view on hyper-femme activities is a real revelry of womanhood, and i’m finally embracing it. i do my nails. i get waxed. i enjoy sharing the intimate details of my relationships with my girlfriends. it’s liberating to finally come clean after all these years. i am a woman.
the endeavour used to be here.
i was sent on assignment by my boss to go over one of the endeavour’s flyover points and take pictures (the above are not mine) — completely unrelated to the tv post production world, but totally related to MY world. she didn’t even know i was a space fan, but she told me to take the day and bring back some pictures. what a perfect excuse for a day off!
it was foolish of me to have underestimated the crowd that was drawn by the endeavour’s last flight, and at the griffith observatory of all places! two hours to drive 12 miles should have given me ample time to get to the observatory — even considering morning traffic. but the streets below were littered with cars, practically unmoving, along with a line of cars signaling to get into an already gridlocked right lane. when i turned into one of the streets leading up, i found it closed to observers. the hill had filled up. so i parked in a residential street and started hiking two miles in high 80 degree weather with a camera bag filled with lenses and tripod in tow.
but what a sight. the energy at the top of that hill was electrifying. there it was flying before me– a space ship…that’s been in space…during my lifetime…and now lives in my city.
this one’s mine.
“your hair looks longer,” he said as he sat down on my chair.
“you feel taller,” i said as i hugged him goodbye.
funny how much things change (even if they really didn’t) after not having seen someone for a month.
california summers are nearly endless, but on the hottest days, most people like to go to the beach. i, however, don’t head down there nearly as much as many of my fellow californians do. don’t get me wrong; i have no problem with the beach. (i used to when i was an insecure teenager who didn’t know how to put on sun screen) in fact, i love it. well…most of it…which brings me to this:
i’m terrified of the ocean for the following reasons —
1) it is filled with creatures unknown. we know as much about our oceans as we do about outer space. in its deepest depths live alien-like creatures that seem to have come to life from the pages of science fiction rather than from our own planet. when you’re in the water, you don’t truly know what’s swimming with you and what’s contaminating the water you allow yourself to be consumed in. i suppose it’s not the creatures, themselves, but the mystery beneath that i fear the most.
2) naturally, we are not made to be in the water. our skin prunes; we can’t breathe or see without man-made contraptions; our bodies are not properly equipped to handle the pressures of the deep…
alright, so we’re not made to be in the air either, but that’s why there are also people who fear flying.
but what happens when you’re stranded out there without the equipment that allows you to survive? you’re in the ocean’s turf, baby. it’ll do with you what it wants.
it’s been a year since my last active post. but now that i have more time on my hands, look out wordpress! things are going to change around here. this past year or so i’ve let writing teeter in and out of my life and fall nearly into oblivion. and since i’ve stopped actively writing, i found that i’m more at a loss for words than ever. i haven’t been able to articulate my thoughts properly, which has caused me to stutter and stumble on my words, which have made me insecure about the way i speak, which has made me more quiet…
writing was like a cork that kept everything in my brain. and when i let it crumble away, everything started to leak out.
union lake from kite hill– gasworks park — seattle, washington — may, 2011
seattlites far and wide took advantage of the sunny interlude from the daily gloom while i was up visiting a few months back. so i got an opportunity to observe the intriguing people of seattle while they were outdoors enjoying the warmth of the sun. it was no surprise to see white-asian couples and their cute, little hapakids flying kites because, well, that kind of family has become quite commonplace these days. and while international adoptions have skyrocketed since they were popularized by the jolie-pitts, what was fascinating to me was the number of white couples i saw with full asian children. a town of progressive yuppies, they are.
hip fruit vendors at pike place market — seattle washington — may 2011
an edwardian sorcerer and a grown-up page boy selling fruit. for some reason, i take these guys seriously. maybe i’m just jaded about hollywood hipster culture, but there’s something more organic about the hipsters of the northwest. and i’m not just talking about their fruit.