Category Archives: bloop

Hello! Hello! Hello!

Mic check, mic check… hello? Oh, hey! Hi! I’m still alive, y’all!

Last time I checked in on here was on the blog’s 6th anniversary back in May. Yikes!  And soooo much has happened since then… like Force Friday II!

As for the other stuff, here’s a recap: I left my job as a reading tutor back in April after I was promoted as a contract worker at my current job at a fashion start-up called WISHI. Remember when I went to dog grooming school last year ’cause I thought I was going to be a dog groomer? Haha! Anyway, I’ve been consumed with work ever since — especially since I was promoted to full time back in June. I went from unpaid intern –> paid intern –> contract worker –> full time employee. I’m proud of myself for having come so far, but I’ve lost track of my passions: reading and writing. I don’t read and write as much as I ought to, but I’ve made it a priority to work it in my schedule (mainly during my commute on BART). I think it’s about damn time to get blogging back in there too.

I felt slightly disconnected with Le Fancy Geek for a bit too, so I didn’t try to rush back in. A lot of the content was starting to feel shallow and very materialistic to me, which is why I refrained for so long. Since I make it a point to be honest here I will say this: I am very materialistic. I love things! I can’t help it. Like Tom Haverford once said, “Love fades away, but things… things are forever.”

Clothes? Books? Toys? Gimme, gimme, gimme!

A shift needed to be made though. Of course I’m still going to be doing outfit posts and still talk about geek fashion on here, and books and movies every now and then, but I want to start involving the geeky fashion/lifestyle community more so. I want to feature small geek businesses that I love and have supported throughout the years, and new ones too! And also feature the amazing bloggers I’ve met along the way too (both online and IRL). I’ve talked about mental health on here as well and have shared some very personal posts, so I will continue to write those as well. I’d also like to discuss topics that are important to me, like finding representation in pop culture and why it’s important.

I hope you’ll stick around as I switch things up!

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Quicksand

birthday-cupcakes

The first month of 2017 has come and gone, and to say it’s been a doozy would be a complete understatement. I celebrated my 31st birthday on the 12th last month, and though the day itself was okay — I went to work, tried to keep the fact that it was my birthday under the radar (despite the fact that I’m usually a complete attention whore when it comes to my birthday), but my boss found out anyway (thanks, Facebook) and surprised me with cupcakes, and I got a little too white girl wasted drunk during Happy Hour at work since my dinner plans were cancelled (oops) — but the next day I felt crippled with anxiety. It gnawed at my chest all day and continued throughout the weekend. I felt like a waste of space. I felt like everything I did wasn’t good enough. I felt so pathetic. And haven’t felt that way for quite some time.

I was staying at my cousin’s apartment in San Francisco (I work in the city 3 times a week), and her and her husband went away for the weekend, so I had the whole apartment to myself come Friday night. It felt nice to be alone and to have all of San Francisco at my disposal, but I’ve always been an anxious person. At 24, my doctor diagnosed me with anxiety disorder. So I’m always stressed, constantly worried, fearful of little things (like making a phone call), but somehow I’ve managed to keep it all at bay and feel relatively “normal.” It seemed like I was finally starting to get over the depressive funk I’ve been stuck in for the past 3 years. But I guess turning another year older and finding that I’m still not where I want to be in life creeped its way to the surface and ripped apart the protective layer of happiness I managed to create.

Sitting quietly on the couch of someone else’s home with nothing but my thoughts was a recipe for disaster. Ennui swept over as I sat in an apartment very much like the one I imagined myself living in when I was 21. My dream was to be a successful writer living in San Francisco with a tan French Bulldog named Jacque Cousteau, and that I was very well traveled, and was basically like Carrie Bradshaw minus the whole writing about my sex life for all to read bit. Hopefully in a happy long-term relationship, or happily single. That’s what I imagined. Then I dwelled on the reality of my actual situation — still living with my parents, still writing but not exactly the kind of stuff I thought I would, not as well traveled as I’d like to be, involuntarily celibate for the past 3 years… the good part though? I have a dog! But he wasn’t there with me. And then the loneliness sank in. As much as I love being an introvert and don’t like being around people, I like having them around sometimes. And even though I have no desire to be in a romantic relationship any time soon, I found myself longing for that kind of companionship. Then I downloaded Bumble (and have done absolutely nothing with it).

I found myself crying in the shower for no reason that weekend. I cried myself to sleep at night too.

I’m just frustrated all around. I’m frustrated with myself because I still can’t seem to move forward. I feel like I’m trying, but it’s not enough. I feel like I’m waist deep in quicksand, and for every inch I manage to claw my way to, I get sucked back in 5 more inches. I’m just stuck. I’m frustrated with the state of the country I live in because holy hell, what is even happening?! It’s like America has become a goddamn dystopia. The combination of that and where I’m at emotionally/mentally, well… it sucks. It just sucks. I’m so frustrated I can’t even think of a good way to phrase how sucky it all is!

Things could be worse. Believe me, I know. I get irritated when I find myself dwelling on things when I know there are people worse off than me. I have a job (2 actually), I have friends and family that love and support me, I have a roof over my head, I have a dog who lights up with joy when I come home. Even though I have all that, it doesn’t mean the negative feelings I have aren’t valid. It doesn’t mean I’m wrong for feeling the way that I feel. And if there’s one thing I learned about myself within the past 3 years, it’s this: I am strong. I am a fucking fighter. In all the times I cry, and curl up into a despondent ball of hopelessness, I’ve found that I always manage to pick myself right back up and keep going.

So here I go. Attempting to crawl out of the quicksand. Bring it, 2017.

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Parks and Wreck

This is something that has been gnawing at me for weeks and needed to be written for my own sanity’s sake. Yep. It’s another serious narrative. I know I don’t post these all the time, but I feel it’s important for me to do so every now and then so you guys know I’m not all fluff and fancy stuff. If you’re not into me talking about sad and serious things that might make you feel some way, feel free to skip this and wait for my next post which will be going back to the light-hearted, happy, geeky fashion stuff you usually see on here.

It’s weird how certain things or places can feel tainted based on the memories of a person you associate them with; specifically if that person was once a significant part of your life and is now nothing but a complete and total stranger.  

Earlier in August, while waiting around for Jen to finish up a second interview with a non-profit in the Mission, I walked around the neighborhood with Rory. I realized that Dynamo Donut wasn’t too far away and maybe I could get Jen a congratulatory donut just for making it so far in the job process (she got the gig BTW). What can I say? We always celebrate with food. The fact that Dynamo Donut was a “tainted” place came across my mind as I began to search for it on Google Maps, but I brushed that notion aside and said “fuck it.” It was a place my ex and I had often frequented whenever he visited me and my housemates in Daly City. This was before we started dating, but during that time is when we became best friends. I remember the two of us were so psyched to go, and utterly devastated upon seeing the “closed” sign on its green shutters as we walked up to it. On our way over we noticed a cool looking park with vibrant murals and an enormous mosaic snake. I can’t quite recall if we actually went that day, or if we went the following day after successfully getting donuts, but it instantly became a tradition to go there, even long after I moved out of the Bay Area. Every trip to San Francisco had to include a visit to Dynamo Donut and the park. We’d go there high on sugar (from the donuts, of course) and run along the back of the mosaic snake, which I named Horatio. One time a man asked if we had a child with us since a sign in the park stated adults had to be accompanied by children. My ex said no, but we were children at heart. The man wasn’t amused, but we didn’t care. We kept visiting the park anyway.

The last time I was there was for our two-year anniversary three years ago. Not even a month after that was when we broke up. After it happened, I felt obligated to write about it here since he had such a huge presence on my blog. My readers would obviously notice something was wrong if I just stopped talking about him all together, right? I often documented our adventures, he took a majority of my outfit pictures, and I talked about him a lot on here. He was my legit first love, and he made it seem like we’d last a lifetime. It was only natural that he’d be mentioned very often. 

It was nearly 3:30 when I got to Dynamo, and they were sold out for the day. They still had dog donuts though, so I bought one for Rory and proceeded to the park. I told myself that it was okay to go back. It was only “tainted” because I let it be, and that I shouldn’t let the memory of some stupid guy ruin it for me. We went to Disneyland together all the time, but I managed to make it “mine” again. Surely I could do the same with the park. However, once I reached it, I was swept with such ennui. It was completely deserted. The circular steel swing had been worn down with bits of rust. The paint on the murals were no longer bright, but were faded and chipping. Horatio’s body no longer gleamed the way it used to because there were now splotches of grey cement covering the damage that had been done to him since the three years I was last there. Looking around, memories of moments I had been there played like short films in my head. I remembered the last time I was there, wearing my maroon peacoat and being pushed on the swing by my ex. At one point he told me not to move and brushed something off my back. I panicked and asked if it was a bug and he said no. Minutes later he told me that there was, in fact, a bug on my back. I didn’t feel particularly sad or get a sense of longing over him. The ennui came from something else. As Rory and I took a seat on top of Horatio’s head, I felt my eyes begin to fill with tears. A sudden deep depression came over me. Why was I about to cry? I couldn’t figure it out.

And then I realized the symbolism of it all.

The park is basically the personification of my old relationship. It was beautiful, but now it’s tarnished and faded. When you look back on the past, you try to remember the good things, the beautiful things. This place was full of fun memories that I associated with happier times. From afar, the park still looks fantastic, but once I got closer and was able to see what time had done to it… it’s just… well, a wreck. The paint’s faded and chipping away. Rust has grown on the playground equipment. Horatio doesn’t shine the way I remembered. Or maybe it was like this all along and my rosy colored specs prevented me from seeing it that way.

I stopped myself from crying. “There’s nothing to cry about,” I told myself. I didn’t want to mourn a relationship that’s been over for three years. I’m tired of mourning. I’ve been done mourning. I’ve accepted the fact that I don’t have it in me to be his friend again, and that’s okay. I haven’t talked to him in years, so I don’t know how he feels. There is a lack of trust on my end, which is why I know friendship is out of the question. When I first wrote about us breaking up three years ago, I said that it was a mutual decision. I only said that because I was trying to respect his privacy and didn’t want to portray him in a bad light. But how can I continue to do so when he didn’t respect me at all? The decision wasn’t mutual. It was all him. I was completely blindsided. When he talked about how he felt, and asked what I thought could be done, the only thing I could think of was breaking up. But he promised me so many things; he told me he saw a future with me, we talked about getting married, what kind of wedding it’d be, and growing old together, we talked about getting two dogs and naming them Han and Chewie, and on our first New Year’s Eve he promised to kiss me at midnight the next year, and the year after that, and the year after…  breaking up couldn’t possibly be an option! It feels as if he wanted me to come to that conclusion myself so he wouldn’t feel like an asshole and have to flat out say he wanted things to end himself. I fought like hell to make that relationship work, even after he was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. God knows I did all that I could to accommodate his needs to the best of my abilities. I even bought a fucking book to help me understand how to deal with it. So what a punch to the gut it was for him to tell me that he didn’t feel like he was in a relationship. Or when he said he felt like he couldn’t be himself around me anymore, and that he flirted with other girls to fulfill a need for the attention I couldn’t properly give since we were long distance (and that he started dating one of those girls not too long after we broke up). Or when he said that sometimes he wanted to be with me and sometimes he didn’t. Honestly, if you’re even asking yourself that question, do me a favor and just don’t be with me. Oh, and there was also that long, excruciating pause when I said, “You keep saying that you still love me, but that it’s not the same as it used to be… so… are you even still in love with me?” I knew the answer was no, but that pause crushed me. How could this person who was supposedly my significant other and best friend say and feel all these things?

Now that enough time has passed, I can look at the relationship without bias and clouded judgement. I don’t use him being bipolar as an excuse to how he behaved anymore. I can see where things went wrong and that we really weren’t good for each other. Or more so, he really wasn’t good for me. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think he’s a horrible person. I just think he was a sucky boyfriend to me in the end. That’s all.

I guess the point in me writing this is that I’ve come to understand that looking at the past too often will not serve you well. Perhaps this is something I should’ve figured out a long time ago. The more you visit, the more you’ll see the imperfections and faded paint of something that you once thought was lovely and beautiful. Dwelling on the past too much will only hold you back because it’ll make you feel bitter and afraid, especially if you’re spiteful and hold grudges like me. Just keep moving forward, it’s all we can do. Keep moving forward to better, exciting, and challenging things. It’s scary, and there’ll definitely be some bumps along the way, but you’ll be better for it. And the paint is brighter there, too. I promise.

cheers le fancy geek fashion blogger

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Heavy Stuff

chubby cheeks

A few months ago during a Wear Your Voice Mag (WYV) meeting, it was brought up that articles with personal narratives that included cultural experiences were some that our readership really responded to. When it came time to do pitches, I immediately thought of what it was like growing up as a chubby pinay. It was really the only thing I could think of to write about regarding personal narratives about my Filipino upbringing. As I started jotting down notes, I found it to be very hard and painful to write. Digging up all these horrific moments from the depths of my memory put me in panic mode and guilt ridden, so I put off writing it for quite a bit.  I didn’t go into full detail about everything I had gone through though in my final draft as I had to consider my word count, and also that I was focusing on how my culture in particular had effected me — not how my peers did. That could be another article all together. It’s just really hard growing up on the heavier side of the scale because it makes you the automatic target of ridicule.

I saw that it was posted last Wednesday, but I made no plans to share it because all this anxiety began to build within me. I started to worry about what people would think. The Filipino community is always depicted as being an extremely friendly and happy bunch, yet I wrote about how in that culture it seems perfectly acceptable to make blunt comments on someone’s appearance — particularly whether someone is too fat or too skinny. So basically, in my article it sounds like I’m saying Filipinos can be extremely insensitive bags of dicks. I’ve only been to the Philippines twice, the last time was 11 years ago when I had just turned 19. A relative we stayed with called a month after we came back home and while I talked to her on the phone, she casually asked, “Have you lost any weight?” Where did that even come from? A couple years after that, I opted out of going back there for a month with my mom, dad, sister, youngest cousin, and my aunt because I didn’t want to have to deal with being told I was fat everyday for a month straight. My mom came back with a couple of stories that would’ve made me cry a damn ocean — she told me about how she talked to a local and they asked her if she was American, and she joked “Yes! Can you tell by my accent?” Their response? “No. It’s because you’re fat.” She also told me that when her, my cousin, and my dad got into a taxi the driver went out to check on the back tires to make sure their weight didn’t bring them down. Like… what the fuck?

I was also worried about sharing this article because it’s so personal. I briefly talk about attempting suicide, and of course, my family. I worried (or, I am still worried as I have not shared it with them yet) about what they’d think of it. Would I hurt their feelings? Would I upset them? Anger them? Offend them? Would this cause drama? I was seriously not planning on sharing it, and was thinking it would fly under the radar anyway since my articles on WYV don’t create that much of a buzz. But that changed on Tuesday. My article was shared on their Facebook page, and someone had left a comment on one of my Instagram pictures telling me they had just read my article and how they related to it. I woke up the next morning to a message on Facebook. Someone else had thanked me and said the article resonated with them, and how they could see their daughters getting effected by the same type of comments I grew up with. Instagram notifications showed other people commented that they had read my article. I looked at my post on WYV’s Facebook — it’s been shared 30 times so far, and the comments I’ve seen people make throughout the day have been nothing but supportive.

If you’d like to read it, you can find it here:

When Bullying Follows You Home: Growing Up Chubby and Filipino

Thank you to all who’ve reached out, commented on WYV’s page, and shared the article. It means so much that my words were able to resonate with some of you and let you know that you’re not alone. <3

cheers le fancy geek fashion blogger

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Back to School

le fancy geek havanese maltese havamalt writing fashion blog

Hey my little, ponies! Long time no see, but there’s good reason for that. I’m back in school (kinda)! I decided to take an online creative writing course at the local community college to kick my ass back into gear in terms of writing fiction. It’s been a long long time since I’ve worked on any new stories (came up with ideas and jotted some notes, but that’s all), and I want to get back into the swing of things. Working on my writing is something I recall mentioning on my blog every time the New Year came ’round, and I never fulfilled it because I was always caught up doing something else.

THIS IS THE YEAR I START WRITING AGAIN, GODDAMMIT.  – pounds left fist on table indignantly –

We’re only in the third week of the semester, but it seems to be going okay so far. I’ve never taken an online course before so I’m trying to get used to it. It’s odd not meeting in a classroom once or twice a week, and the only means of communication is all through email or message boards, so I have no idea who my fellow classmates are. But like I said, it seems to be going okay. This week’s assignment is to hash-out the plot of the story I’m working on and I’m kind of like, “Uh… what the hell is my story about anyway?” I dug up an unfinished short that I worked on in one my creative writing classes at SFSU that’s inspired by Jenny Lewis’ song “Rabbit Fur Coat.” I thought it’d be appropriate since this year is the 10th anniversary of her first solo album of the same name. You can listen to my source of inspiration here. I have an idea of who my two main characters are and what the issues between them are and why, but as for the actual plot? I don’t think I ever really thought about it and I’ve been trying to think of things. BLUGH.

Another thing I’m going to be starting is dog grooming school! I was supposed to start that last month, but I ended up being the only student to show up on the first day. I don’t really want to go into further detail about that until things start to pick up, but I’m pretty excited about it 🙂

Are any of you attempting to fulfill long-term goals you’ve set for yourself too? Let me know in the comments below!

cheers

 

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So This is the New Year (So Far)

your e card new year's resolution

Well, we’re 8 days into the New Year and I think I’ve neglected my blog for just a wee bit too long. So here I am!

I’ve noticed that some of my bloggy friends have been writing up blog posts with one word they want to define the year for them, which sounded fun until I tried to think of what word I’d like to help define my year ahead. Obviously, I’ve come up short because I didn’t Photoshop a fun graphic with a word — which is really disappointing because I was looking forward to that — and I’m not talking about one specific word. Otherwise I would’ve brought it up by now. So here’s a Your E-Card pic instead.

I feel like picking a word is heading into the New Year-New Me/New Year’s resolution territory. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, if that sounds like where I’m heading with this.

When I got my haircut on Tuesday my stylist asked me if I had made any resolutions for the New Year and I said, “No. I don’t want to set myself up for disappointment” while she massaged some sort of vegan crystal thing onto my scalp to help stop it from being so flaky. But this isn’t quite true because I know that there are some things I’d like to better myself at. For one thing, I spend money like I have an endless supply of gold like Scrooge McDuck that I can swim laps in, but I don’t. I am a raging shopaholic. My mom pointed this out to me and said I need to log my expenses. I want to be more cautious of what I eat too, and I was pretty good about it for a majority of 2015, but I helped myself to extra potatoes and a waffle yesterday.

Maybe my word should be “adulting” because it sounds better than “responsible”…?

I think the fact that I’m turning 30 this coming Tuesday is bringing up all sorts of anxieties and fears that I’ve been keeping at bay, but they’re making their presence well known as Tuesday looms closer.

At the same time I kind of just want to say, “FUCK IT!” and live in the moment and not put all this random pressure on myself and have resolutions. Can I just take it one day at a time? Can I just have “life goals” instead and not resolve to get it all done in 366 days (because 2016 is a leap year)? Or is that only something you can do when you’re in your early 20s? If that’s the case, my aunt said that 50 is the new 30 so technically I’m only 10, therefore I will go ahead and resume with my “life goals.” 🙂

cheers

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So Long, 2015. It’s Been a Real Slice

just some cool people I got to meet in 2015

Welp, it’s 2016 in other parts of the world, but from where I stand (or rather, sit) it’s still 2015 so it’s not too late for me to do a “year-in-review” sort of post!

A few months ago I lamented to my co-worker, Sara, about how I felt like I amounted to absolutely nothing this year. She just looked at me in an exasperated manner and began listing the things that I accomplished: I did a Whole30, I’m now a paid writer that gets their work published often at Wear Your Voice, legit companies have approached me to sponsor my blog, and, um… I know she listed other things that I can’t remember, but the point is she made me realize that I actually did stuff this year.

It’s really easy to focus on the negative rather than the positive. I’m still stuck in the mindset that I’ve had the same job for the past 4 years (which Sara pointed out is good because it shows other employers that I can keep a job), that I’m still living at home in Stockton (which I’m thankful for, but at the same time I feel like I’ve overstayed my welcome), that I haven’t written anything completely worth while lately, I fell off the healthy bandwagon (again), I didn’t read as much as I wanted to, blah, blah blah.

If I look past all the negative things, 2015 was actually quite a great year! Like I mentioned, I completed a Whole30 back in February which I thought was the most challenging thing I did this year until I did the Captain America 10k last month. I didn’t even properly train for that, so I have no idea how I was able to complete it, let alone in an hour and 35 minutes! I also got to see Jenny Lewis in concert again and went to a Neil Gaiman event. I watched the Amelie musical in Berkeley. I celebrated my first Galentine’s Day, I landed a pretty big sponsorship for my blog (which I will reveal in due time). My cousin Amanda got married in Hawaii and I got to fly in first class and stay at the friggin’ Disney resort Aulani!! My Etsy store did pretty well (finally reached over 200 sales), and I did my first successful show at Whimsic Alley earlier this month! I endured the madness that was Force Friday and watched Star Wars: The Force Awakens at an ungodly hour on the day of its release.

I think the biggest thing was I got to meet SO many of my bloggy/Instagram friends this year! Oh, and how could I forget I got to take a picture with Clark Gregg, Chloe Bennet, James D’arcy, and Haley MOTHER EFFIN AGENT CARTER Atwell. Like, WHAT IS AIR, YOU GUYS??? I was so nervous going to SDCC this year because of the social events I told myself I should go to for networking purposes. My social anxiety was through the roof, but all my blog homies were sooo welcoming and I truly believe I’ve made some lifelong friendships and have so many fun memories from that weekend. As a matter of fact, I am currently getting distracted by the Twitter notifications from these guys about a Disneyland trip before next year’s SDCC. Haha!

I know there’s a lot of stuff that I’m forgetting to include, but to all my friends — old and new — and my family, thanks for making 2015 fabulous!

Here’s to 2016!!!

cheers

PS: I was way too lazy to make photo collages to go along with this post, so sorry! But mostly to myself because I’m so anal about these kinds of things. :/

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