Sunday, March 30, 2014

Kamera Klub and Hello, How've You Been?


Cobwebs all over the blog, but I am here doing a cleaning of sorts.

Well, not really. I just thought I should share what I have been preoccupied with to fuel the flames of existential fire. Scratch that. What a load of crap. But this existential crack is true, you feel it every time a cockroach gets squished and you realize you now have to wash the vermin/carcass off your hands.

Without further ado, here are photos/my submission to the new hobby I am exploring.

Ladies and gentlemen, cringe.

I welcome all comments--violent ones, ass-kissing ones, pleasant ones, honest ones, fabricated ones.Just go ahead and criticize, ok? Massive thanks.

(Copyright CJAKUT because I say so. Hahahaha.)

Saturday, July 6, 2013

Hair Story

When I was young I thought all artistas were naturally blessed with full ravenous hair. The world was simply unfair.

But as I grew up I  became aware that the world is, in reality, a stage, and it puts huge premium on appearances. SHOCKER. But it doesn't mean in any way that image plays a central role in my life. Only artistas are allowed to be that way. Hihi.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I figured a shortcut to escaping from the way I would normally look three hundred and sixty five days a year (Yes, I just spelled that out.)

So... enter clip on extensions, the magical product for that "head full of hair" look.
I love them so much I had a ball flipping my (fake) hair, praying for wind to blow through them ala Farrah Fawcett.

Sigh. Where my genes fell short, this hair appendage more than made up for.

(Jacket: SM . Blouse: Zara. Shorts: Mossimo. Shoes: Charles & Keith)

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Taking Chances

Until I find the one person who'll take me for who I am with all his heart, I'm going to categorize everyone who comes into my life under 'life experience to share with grandkids one day'.

No more self defeating overanalysis of people, places and things.
If I should fall, then let me fall.

Sunday, January 27, 2013

An Open Letter to My High School Crush

Dear Pumpkin Pie Cuppycakes Agent Double Oh Seven Bacon Cinnamon Roll,

You could be the one I've been looking for all along in my seven years of constant daydreaming and general feeling of desperation.  (I  have said the same of my college crush BUT that didn't work out.)

Why do we bump into each other at almost every significant milestone in our lives?

The fact that our birthdays fall on the same date is no accident. We were born to celebrate birthdays together. Yes, you proposed Thai food double celebration once, just you and I, mister. There was one along  Ma. Orosa Street. How could I forget. (But what happened to that plan? You should hear me laughing so hard.) We also attended an inter high school writing contest many summers ago and we were even in the same category. Bet you don't remember  that at all.

I used to watch you from a distance back in the day. I was a timid high school girl, and you, well, you were the pinup boy that stepped out of  teenage magazines, mysterious in demeanor, and almost too cool to touch.

You became an obsession in high school and I felt silly for it because the possibility of you ever looking my way was bleak. There was simply no cracking you up nor simple means to approach you.

What went on a week ago? What came to your mind when you saw me? (Prepare to upchuck.) You actually looked my way. More than once. And while you were at it, I tried with difficulty pretending I did not notice it. Because this is what I do: Go under self preservation and subconsciously raise the walls around me. Even in the face of your invitation for a carefree jaunt by your place, not just last week but a couple of times several months ago. I could tell that was more than platonic, by the way, as I am neither as clueless nor as dense as I appear. (Again, I still wonder what  happened to THAT plan. Hahaha.) Contrary to my belief, however, you do remember me as the girl back in your college freshman year.

And you made me tear those walls down. (What the hell am I saying)You made me see you with every tiny gesture and exchange of useless information, funny trivia and painfully familiar , nay,  similar stand on things. You came down from that pedestal I put you on. You simply fell from grace, with your every sip of black coffee (I'm beginning to sound creepy. You, Agent Double Oh Seven, are weird still!) and I sat there listening to your thoughts on religion (or the lack of it) and watching your awkward impersonation of James Bond as we drove past traffic lights with Adele blaring from your speakers.

And the rain pouring down hard. (Us saguittarians loooove the rain. Suckers.)

What's a girl to do with the niceties? Haba ng hair ko, noh?

No, I'm not in love with you. But it is nice to realize that somehow circumstances have allowed us to be more than, say, a casual weekend call. Count on me to give you my thoughts on your favorite book. And how about that underground mafia? Congratulations for passing the bar, by the way. I've shook your hands way more than necessary. Aiyeee. (HAHAHAHA.)

Thank you, dagmats.

Top: Malate shop. Pants: SM. Shoes: Charles and Keith. Bag: Bayo.

Friday, November 30, 2012

Sunday, November 11, 2012

The Hips That Grew A Woman

Truth be told, I'm an almost30 woman who's ready to carry triplets around the thighs to full term.
I'm in love with these pants despite how it makes my lower half look like Shamu. It's roomy and with  more side pocket space to keep my mobile in without looking too frumpy. Also, I'm loving my Marilyn Monroe shirt which I got from the Ukay shop in Malate. Love love love!

Top: Ukay.  Pants: Mango. Shoes: Naturalizer. Bag: Charles and Keith

Friday, November 2, 2012