the death of me

I think I am glad that TOPSHOP is nowhere near this side of the pond because I will never be tempted or be allowed to buy a pair of sequined leggings that cost $79. If it is, it will be the death of me...

...that and a big, buff and burly Irish man who lives in the country.

Yup. Those two will be the death of me. The end of life as I know it.

Masquerade Ghettotech

The lovely ladies of Post Fact hosted a Masquerade Party at the Unknown Theater. 5 with 10 without.


A stolen fake plant, a piece of duct tape and one Elboob Room later... Geofferey, Africa, Joe the alligator wrestler and Edith the flapper come out to play.

First Night Out

I'm back in Los Angeles and my first night out as a legal beer drinking mosh pitting American was at The Echo with Dan Deacon. Honestly, I just got dragged to it by V. But the wristband didn't come easy. I had wrestle the bouncer for one!




It got too touchy feeley at one point though. It was just creepy and uncomfortable. But then again maybe it was the jet lag.

Lists and Things

I don't have a list.

But when I tell myself, I mean really tell myself, actually converse with myself, not the talk to yourself busy doing work talk to yourself or the talk to yourself laughing at the TV talking to yourself, the talk to yourself that takes five silent seconds and think... "hmm... I'm gonna a douchebag and do it"... kind of talk to yourself.

It took a lot to give up pork. Two years later, I gave up beef. I had to talk to myself with the latter because I love sketch ass Korean buffets.

I never plan on any of this so it's really dangerous when you give me a thought to ponder and I talk to myself.

This time I'm thinking of growing my hair. This is going to be so hard because I like my hair short. I like being different. I'm not thinking of growing it out of vanity. I'm thinking of donating it to Locks of Love.

In a way, by keeping my short hair... I feel like it's much more vain rather than growing it out.


....ok now I'm really thinking of growing it just to prove that I can let go of my short hair personality.

Places like this

Today I walked around with my parents in their little hometown.

I think its so funny that almost everyone tried to get in every picture I took. Or at least tried to get my attention to take their picture.

This one is my absolute fave for the day. He blatantly told me to take his picture, but he was running away.

I love how it's a pretty big town, but its so small. We ran into Ate Min and Nano while we ate at my favorite place. I call it Ong Pin... because I don't really know what the hell they call it.

... I'm with the Artist (unedited)

Alright, so Ate Min picked me up at my house around 9ish- slightly Filipino time. It's been such a long time since I've seen her. I was honestly wee high!

I was ecstatic to take tons of pics and even packed my super zoom lens in my douchebag superfluous purse. And then midway through the trip, I realized I left my memory card on the laptop! Haha! I'm such a fucking genius!

Right after that we hit a fuck load of traffic on some highway -typical- and so we are rushing as fast as we could because Nano has a book signing at MOA.

Ah! Did i mention there was a huge ass spider in the car?

Alright so we get to Silverlens Gallery and they are showing sick ass photography by Frankie Callaghan of the slums. I absolutely love it! Who cares if he used PS or not! It reminded me so much of Ismail Farouk and his take on urban slums in South Africa and Los Angeles.

So the car decides not start. -At this point, I'm feeling soooo amazingly lucky!

We walk on over to Manila Contemporary and I absolutely fell in love with Navas' work. They say she doesn't sell as well as everyone else because her work is so thick. People just don't get it!

We head on over to Evangelista to try and get the car fixed.
"How does it sound?" Says the mechanic.
"Tic tic tic."
By this time, I'm laughing my ass off in the back!

That was a fail. We get dropped off at MOA and the car to Toyota. Some Savory Chicken while we're at it. It'll take two days says Toyota. Right then and there we decided that we'll take public transportation to get to where we were going while Mama Ai will go back along with the car.

(Notice that I'm switching my tenses from past to present? Honestly, I'm such a bad writer)

The book fair at MOA. Sucks! But Ate Min did buy me a book by Lualhati Bautista. So that was pretty awesome! I've never read a book in a foreign language. Don Quixote doesn't count!

And then it pours! Really hard! ...according to mama Ai who, by the way, is an environmentalist who works for an NGO. Honestly, my family never ceases to amaze me!

We take an L300 or something like that to take the MRT or was it the LRT? Anyway, it was CRAZY!!! Theres a line that separates boys and girls because apparently, when it wasn't segregated, dudes would grab them chicks tits and ass, which I thought was HILARIOUS.
We headed to Tri-Noma to kill some time until the gallery opening. Sushi anyone?

We take the jeep to WEST Gallery and that ride was pretty fun! Like always!

West Gallery! Amazing! Geraldine Javier! I was so fortunate to have met all of ate Min's peers! Artists, collectors, writers, directors and bloggers alike!

I met Lyra and she liked my Thakoon dress. Upon doing much research, her work is beautiful. Painful, but beautiful.


Which I noticed is a common thread among the Manila Art Scene. Theres that dark painful longing for something more and that is what makes it beautiful.

Taxi. Bus. And a Ghostly Walk Home.

My cousin and her husband are two amazing people!

Fuck It

I need to stop censoring myself!

I was over at Heathcliff's dashboard looking at the snippets of everything I've written for this blog and I'm laughing at all the crap shit I've written. I know vain! But I was entertained!

It's my fucking blog for fuck's sake!

... I'm with the Artist

My cousin Yasmin Sison promised that upon my arrival in The Philippines, she would take me to go gallery hopping. And so yesterday, she did, along with her husband Mariano Ching. I knew they were artists, but it wasn't until yesterday that I fully realized how prominent they were in the Manila Art Scene.

Silver Lens
Manila Contemporary
WEST

West Gallery, by the way, had a gallery opening showcasing Geraldine Javier. I was fortunate enough to meet the artist and practically everyone noteworthy in the the Manila art scene.

Conversation with Brittny Moore

sometimes i just get tired

sometimes i wish i didn't dream so big

In The Tropics

Talk about fresh and organic.

CRACK at Royal T

This was a last minute thing!

And it makes my top faves for fun randomness!

Don't leave us in an empty art gallery with a Porta Party filled with 70's boogie!

Ok. Imagine a black and white film. Its a silent one. You're in it. You're at the beach somewhere in the East Coast. Then theres a man. Hes just standing there. You can't quite see his face. But you know he's smiling at you. And you're smiling too. You don't really recognize this man. Or maybe you just can't quite remember. But you know deep down inside, you know this man. And you know he knows you too. And you guys are just there, standing and staring at each other in the distance with a smile. It's not a big smile. But its not just any smile. Its a smile of genuine happiness. Its like finally finding something. You weren't really looking for it, but somehow, you know it's the one you've been missing all along.

Its like knowing that feeling. And then knowing that you don't have that.

So I'm sitting here, wedged between the cushions of this new fat ass fluffy couch trying to finish my Stockholm text when I suddenly, seriously out of nowhere, I start feeling lonely.

Its the weirdest feeling!

Its like a flash of emotions and then its gone.

And now my brain can't quite grasp the concept of what just happened so it's clinging on to that recent memory.

WEIRD I tell you.

Its not the kind of lonely, when you feel all sad and emo and all Korean soap opera. No, not that annoying kind.

Rather, its the concept of being alone. Physically alone? No. There are three other people in the apt. Socially alone? No. NEVER on that side!

I guess its a feeling of amorous loneliness.

It's the weirdest feeling.

Not even a second long. But it has baffled me ever so dearly.

Its like I'm not lonely at all, but I'm lonely.

Its kind of like that feeling... that yearning feeling. For someone. It's like you've known him all your life. But you just don't know who.

Oh wow. I'm yearning for someone I don't even know.

Rachel Roy

I had the privilege of working with the Rachel Roy project for work just recently and I didn't even realize how amazing this woman is until I had finished writing the lengthy article.

Upon first being assigned to the project and doing a half ass research just to get my head in the game, these were the thoughts that ran in my head.

"Your answers are so trite, I wouldn't be surprised if you ripped those off Teen Vogue's In My Room section!"

"Like Nicolas Ghesquire hasn't done that. Aren't you a little too late for the geo movement?"

"Ps, Alber Elbaz called, he wants his sleeves back."

"Whats up with Dutch chicks and black dudes? She and Doutzen should be BFFs! ...Well if shes friends with Doutzen, I guess she must be nice."

But upon doing much research, I asked my friend about the gender roles women play in Indian cultures. Are they conservative? Are they traditional? Are they family oriented? My friend furthermore explained the role tradition and family.

To be honest, shes quite BALLSY considering the fact the she deviated from the traditional social norms of being an Indian descent. Having been married and divorced with two beautiful children and being a successful fashion designer, Rachel Roy has been through so much for a woman her age.

Therefore, I take my hat off to Rachel Roy for being the woman she is!

I can see Mexico from my house!

Bungee Jumping [X]
Skydiving [X]
White Water Rafting []
Jetskiing [X]
Wakeboarding []
Climb inside a volcano []

what a bunch of T BAGS!

This is a demonstration of how a White Man takes his mail order bride.

Was it a tea house or a brothel? I can never tell the difference!