There’s something about honesty that can be quite liberating.

Especially when you are being honest with yourself.

Maybe the reason why people are so scared of being honest is because secrets are a reminder that we actually have something to lose. It makes us vulnerable, humble and maybe, just maybe, these are things that remind us that we are alive.

Maybe we hold on, as selfish as it may seem, because we don’t want to let go of the things that oftentimes, aren’t supposed to be ours anymore.

Then again, maybe sometimes we hide skeletons in our closets because that’s where they are meant to be.

I guess everyone has their reasons and every secret kept tucked behind has been placed their for a reason. Reasons we may never really know and well, maybe that’s just not my problem anymore.

I don’t know where I’m heading with this blog post because right now I feel naked.

I feel happy and hurt at the same time but it’s not necessarily a bad thing, you know?

I feel liberated. And maybe that’s a good thing.

I have made the honest mistake of watching Serendipity while on my period. For reasons I can’t fully explain but let’s just say, I was hoping to watch The Great Gatsby but ended up watching Star Trek: Into Darkness instead and quite frankly, their costume design pissed me off.
 
Hormones are really one of the main reasons I hate being a woman. That and (you may or may NOT believe it) but also dressing up. But not childbirth, never childbirth! The world needs babies. They are cute, cuddly and they might just be the only form of humans I hardly feel the need to suffocate no matter how loud they can get. (to everyone in my office, now you know how I feel about you) Those may or may not be the hormones talking.
 
So going back to my hormones and Serendipity, watching it was not a very good idea. Despite it being my millionth time to watch it, I found myself so lost and confused. I was jealous and suddenly unsure of myself and my feelings. I started to wonder if I would ever have that sort of love (well, not their love. That was f*cked up) when at the back of my head, I was quite sure that the man I want to grow old with was lying in bed or up playing counter strike (which I have no problems with, btw). I was scared because suddenly the thought that maybe he didn’t feel the same way about me crept in which made me think that I needed some sort of security, some kind of assurance. Then I thought about us breaking up and me never being happy again and him finding someone better than me, someone with a cleaner slate, someone girlier- and it scared me because, “shit! I forgot to comb Barbie’s hair today!”. And then I thought about how much I wanted McDonald’s and how I should move to Manila and start a career there and how much I hate the Star Trek uniforms and that cheap cloth. Ugh! And… uhm… Hi! That’s pretty much how a menstruating woman’s head sounds like.
So I have made a list of to keep in mind when handling a menstruating woman:
 
1.       Watching any form of entertainment that involves love, romance especially unrequited love is a bad idea. And by watching it makes you a bad person!
2.       Do not go to places where couples might be on dates, unless you’re out on one. But that can be hazardous, as well.
Ø   If you are single, there are a million reasons why this is wrong and if you aren’t then you will most likely bitch at your man for not taking you out on one.
3.       Do not attempt to dress. Also, pressuring us to dress is also not advised.
Ø  Why the hell doesn’t anything look good when I’m bleeding? I never knew I was THIS fat!
4.       Menstruating women should not have access to a fridge and/ or kitchen. Because we will sweep that shit up.
5.       Personal contact is hazardous to everyone’s health. Suggested distance is about 5 feet from us. Believe me,  I pushed a girl yesterday and I punched a number of guys who got on my nerves. I am innocent.
6.       Talking should be done at your own risk. Because if you say something stupid, I will call it out. And I will humiliate you cuz you’re stupid and I think you should know.
7.       Never ask us for advice. Nuff said.
8.       Never ask us for our “honest” opinion. YOU CAN’T HANDLE TO TRUTH!!
9.       Talking about our boyfriends ex’s or our ex’s is like asking me if I want to sucker punch you. Because I do and I’ll consider it as permission to do so.
10.   Say NO with caution. Refusing a bleeding woman is like taking candy away from a baby. It’s like stealing your dads cigarettes or being cast out of the garden of Eden. It is that bad. Which totally eradicates rules 1-9.
 
11.   Keep a bleeding girl locked up. Like a bear should ought to be hibernating. But let her know you love her because she doesn’t understand herself either. When the pre menstrual/ intra menstrual and post menstrual syndromes are done, we will go back to loving you. Sure, we still not really like you but we’ll be easier to manage.
 
I’d finish this but I’m back to wanting McDonald’s.l

There is nothing more motivating than knowing that nobody has your back.

There is nothing more fuel burning than knowing that this is my battle and I’m going to do it alone.

It sucks in ways, because I don’t think that anyone believes in me, not even the people who mean the most to me. But well, what am I going to do about people who want to think I’m chicken shit? Prove them wrong.

No one is going to pat you on the back and throw you a bone (or a designer bag) when you do something good but they will magnify, gratify and multiply your flaws.

I was wrong, I know. I’ll fix it. Even if it’s the last thing I do. Just to shut everyone up.

For the first time, I’m looking forward to silence.

My world does not and it shall not revolve around a sole person. And I must always remember never to forget that my dreams are only as big as I allow them to be.

So i shouldn’t let anything hold me back and most of all, I shouldn’t let anyone make me feel less than I am. 

I do what winners do.

Not much intellectual output on the emotional breakdown that went on from 2:00 o’ clock of this afternoon until late 5:00 today. 

It was really nice to know that I had my mom around to talk to though because technically, this is her fault. LOL.

Sometimes I think it’s stupid that I still get bothered about the fact that I am and always will be an “illegitimate” child. I mean, it is high time that I got used to the stigmas of being “the other child” or “Issa, *blah’s* kid with *blah* before *blah* and *blah*” and not just, “Issa, *blah’s* kid.”

I know other people have it much much worse than I do hence the, not much intellectual output on matter but honestly, sometimes it does suck. A lot.

In conclusion, I told my mom that I never wanted to get married, (which really isn’t a problem on my part because no one in the right mind would want to marry me) and she said something in the context of “who the hell are you trying to fool?” Which is partially true. Aside from success, all I’ve ever wanted was to have my own family. Give someone the chance to have the kind of family I never had and in some ways, know how it felt to be a part of a family that wasn’t avoiding each other or at each others necks.

I guess seeing my ancestors (yeah, ancestors) is and always will be a bitter reminder of my childhood that I have long tried to let go of. I guess I tried to run away from them like I tend to do instead of just embrace it and well, there goes my weakness.

But if I got anything out of that hour long heavy and tearful talk, it was that, I can still fix the things that I am not happy with in my life.

I think I’ll go buy myself a wig. I am currently unhappy with my hair. And the fact that my boyfriend didn’t make me his +1 to a wedding while everyone else did. The award for most thoughtful goes to…

I tend to do this a lot especially when I’m left alone with my thoughts. I tend to think of all the things that scare me which is never really a good thing. It’s an awful habit, I know and if you are curious about how it feels like- don’t. It leaves you with nightmares and ruins your mornings even before they begin. How I acquired this weak hobby of mine, I don’t recall but I wish to put an end to it.

I used to write A LOT because it helped me process my thoughts easier. It’s different in your head and on paper because on paper (or screen) it’s concrete. If I can see it, I’ll accept it. But if it’s all in my head then expect a hot mess. Or just a mess. Whichever rocks your boat.

So here I am, listing down my petty fears in hopes that when I read this over and over again, I will realize how stupid I am abd maybe then, just MAYBE, we can carry on with our lives and the more important problems..

1. I fear that I will never be good enough.
2. That I will never come to find what I want to do in life.
3. That one day Paolo will wake up and realize that it is not I he wants.
4. That i will die alone.
5. That I will never make my parents proud of me.
6. That I’m goin to turn into an unhappy and ungrateful shmuck.

They really are common and random situational crises that people my age go through everyday but I’ve written them down to lighten the load. Maybe when I go home tonight, I’ll take out my journal (yeah, I keep a journal. Shoot me!) and find remedies to my mental disorder.

This is me, crazy and everything.

FYI: I am currently blogging on my phone and I think technology has really upped it’s game by letting us do this. It’s everything I have EVER dreamed of! 🙂 Yey for technology and yey for free apps!

It’s a lot more convenient to be able to ramble through my mobile when a laptop isn’t available. Also considering that work has blocked ALL my blogs. Thanks, b*tches!

Due to a certain change of events, I am home early tonight. And if God couldn’t be kinder, He chose to clear up my schedule on the very night I decided that I wanted to draw a bird. Yes, you heard me right, a bird. It’s not a special bird or a bird that I’ve known of for a while. In all honesty, it’s a picture of a bird I saved off from 9gag. But it’s a cute bird; I’ll give you that- and I do believe that I’ve slowly gained a certain interest in these majestic creatures of flight, often making them my inspiration when trying to design clothes. (Emphasis on the try, people)

So here I am, minutes before eight, plopped on my bed (because I don’t have a table to draw on and that sucks) with my laptop on to keep me from being lonely. I don’t know how most people start when they decide to sketch but when drawing animate objects, I start with the eyes. So there I go, sketching away, having a go at shading and plotting (I’ve never really had any informal or formal education so that explains my weak vocabulary) when I realized that… I cannot draw to save my life.

I know this now because:

1. My little birds’ eyes were not, in any way, proportional. If that bird could move, it would’ve pecked my eyes and snapped my hands off.

2. Any bird with a head as big as the one of my feathered friend and that puny body I etched to match would be at the bottom of the food chain and would seriously hate evolution.

3. Beaks are not my forte. And neither are extremities. Peoples, birds, dogs- snakes. If they had any, I would’ve seriously f*cked that up, too.

4. Anything that is monochrome, duachrome [?!], anything other than technicolor is beyond my God given talents. Unless you think purple, blue and grey could pass as decent substitutes of black (probably, but not in the way I played it).

5. Mostly because, I forgot that when it comes to drawing or life in general, it’s important to pay attention to the bigger picture rather than scrutinize every.single.minute.detail.

I’d like to say that I’m not a quitter but let’s face it, I know a lost cause when I see one. So down went my pens and off went the paper (and into the trash bin) and I found myself sitting on my lumpy bed frustrated, incapable but mostly, sad.

And just like every single time I’m feeling down in the dumps, I like to think of all the things I could’ve done differently or the different ways that I could’ve screwed it up more to avoid doing it again next time. And I guess, in the midst of all that wallowing over a drawing, I came to the realization that:

1. I am not the best and well, maybe I never will be.

2.  People make mistakes but that doesn’t mean we should give up.

3. It takes practice. It takes time. And most of all, it takes patience.

4. If I never tried, I never would have known.

5. I have a very short attention span. I think it’s an undiagnosed case of ADHD. My mom never got me tested so, I guess we will never really know, will we? Haha.

And although I’ve put all my materials in their designated nooks and corners of my room, I am not at loss. See, I’m trying to take this evenings’ epiphany in the most philosophical way possible and somehow apply it to my daily life. I went down wiser, did I not? I’m a winner! *crowd roar*

In some ways, they are all great and I feel like the bomb diggity. But on the other hand, these are things I should’ve already known or at least remembered. But then again- practice, time and patience. I am not perfect, I forget [more than I ought to] and sometimes it takes epically failing to draw a bird to remember that.

Believe me, I could go on and on and on about how the bird is my relationship with Paolo or how it is my job or my mother but I’d rather not. Right now, I’m just going to enjoy the rest of my evening and de-stress myself from my de-stressing stress.

Maybe tomorrow will be a good drawing day. Or next week. Or never, who knows? But at least I learned.

My apologies to all the birds who were offended by this post.

I often wonder about taking a break from fashion blogging. I wonder what it would be like to get away from the politics, the oftentimes shallowness [trying to figure out what top to wear that wouldn’t make me look like a slut while trying to look “relevant”] and honestly, the vanity of it all. (I won’t lie and say I don’t enjoy it. It just gets tiring sometimes.)

I often miss not having to worry about how many hits I get in a day and trying to think of ways to be innovative enough to compete against all the ones ahead of me while thinking quietly to myself that I will soon have my day.

I sometimes miss the Issa who used writing as an outlet and found beauty even in the smallest of things. I remember how a branch in the middle of my way to work made me remember about how blessed I was despite all the despites, the Issa who thought that a smile was euphoric and the little girl who was weak but felt strong when words would just flow from her lips. Or finger. Or thoughts. You get the point.

I miss the run on sentences. Oh, I miss those!

Don’t get me wrong, I love fashion. I grew up in it, I’ve lived every day of my life in it and my childhood dreams revolved around it. And I guess to put it bluntly; these are dreams that I’m not quite willing to let go- maybe ever. But there are things that have happened in my life that have been left accounted for and sometimes, I think I’ve forgotten how to be grateful for them.

Recently, I’ve reconnected with my biological father after not talking to him for 3 years. Shortly after, I reconnected with his family whom I stopped to talking to, as well. And I let these things, as great as they are, pass me by without the slightest bit of gratitude or even an emotional input. Maybe because I wasn’t sure about how I felt about it or maybe because I was too busy caring about other things to even take notice. And thinking about it now, I think it’s a pity. I think it’s a pity that I never stopped to think about how lucky I am of not having to carry the burden of a grudge and to feel at peace with these things that often haunt me.

I miss not trying to be relevant or trendy or of thinking about how I could benefit from doing something. Simply putting it, I forgot how to go back to where I started. I forgot how it felt to feel alive because I was actually living. And I think that’s a shame.

Thinking about it now, the pass few months have usually been about me trying not to be so sensitive, trying to not overthink and trying as much as possible to block out feelings. In the process, I forgot how to feel and think and I learned the hard way that it fucks you up in more ways than one.

And I guess we can all be preoccupied with different things like a new job, a new hobby, a new boyfriend or [surprise, surprise] a new blog but I think it’s important to come back to the things that kept you grounded. You know, the little things that keep (or in my case, kept) you sane, alive and substantial.

I guess I just forgot that when I’m feeling down in the dumps or up in cloud 9 that I had this safe haven to come home to. But I’m home now. And this time, I won’t forget where I left the keys.

I’m sorry and I’ve missed you.

August – December 2012 – Studied for the board exams

December 16- 17, 2012 – Took the board exams

December 18- January 1 – Christmas vacation [I deserved a break, didn’t I?”]

December 20 – Opened www.issaplease.blogspot.com

January 2 – got in touch with Kaz for Rhip Stop, Cebu

January 3- Conceptualized “When Food and Fashion Meet” with food blogger and close friend, Justinne Go

January 5 – Found clients for Sinulog

Found other clients

January 7 – Conceptualized “pants” business

January 10 – Won Preview Magazine’s Haute Holiday Contest [overnight stay at Marriot Hotel for 2]

January 12 – Did make up and co-styled for iFeet, Cebu

January 13 – Reached 1,200++ views on my blog site

January 13 – Took a job offer from SugboTV as part time researcher/ writer

———

Upcoming plans:

Pay my phone bill

Pay my rent

Pay Paolo for his shoes

Buy Paolo a birthday gift

Use my Forever 21 gift card on a long skirt and a sweater

Get money for pants business

Get more photo shoots -> eventually get PAID.

In case you thought I was just working a 9:00 – 7:30 shift.