GIGI GOES GAGA

10 THINGS I WON'T DO FOR LOVE

I've done many crazy things for love, but there are quite a few things I just would not, could not, do. I'm listing a few that I've actually been asked to do. A girl's got to have her limits, you know.

1. Do anything illegal - Some people say love is a prison, but I'm guessing this experience is nothing compared to being in an actual prison. Now I like being proven correct, but I'm not willing to find out if I'm right in this instance.
2. Sleep in a warm room - If he likes it tropical and I prefer it arctic (which I do) then we're sleeping in separate rooms. I have a hard time falling asleep as it is.
3. Go camping where there's no decent bathroom - I've never gone camping and the only thing I've had any experience digging into is my own soul. Somewhere in-between camping and glamping is my happy place. Some folks might call it an outdoor day spa but I won't bother with semantics.
4. Go to a theme park or Chuck E. Cheese - Disneyland is NOT the happiest place in the world for me (once, in 1983, was way more than enough) and I would rather attend traffic school than spend the day at any theme park, period. One of the worst times I've ever had was at the other place I mention, where a kid can be a kid. Well, I'm not a kid. Corollary to #4: Clowns, mimes, and Santa Claus freak me out, too.
5. Reveal my number - I learned this lesson the hard way a long time ago. If you do you're opening another whole can of worms, and next thing you know you're defriending a whole bunch of people on Facebook against your own will. And that's just for starters.
6. Destroy personal items - I won't destroy or throw away diaries, photographs, and letters just because someone else wants to remove all evidence of my past life. I'll respect the man I love and keep everything out of his sight and reach but I'm not about to wipe out my history so that it becomes all about HIS story.
7. Make me give up a beloved pet - When I had Boo I didn't date (or continue to date) anyone who didn't like cats. If there's anyone reading this who thinks I'm odd, substitute "children" for "cats" and ask yourself again if I'm being unreasonable. The same goes for dogs, by the way.
8. Turn my back on family and friends - I've learned that anyone who tries to get in between me and my family and/or friends is a selfish, manipulative bastard who wants to separate me from my support system so that he can control me completely. Never again.
9. Wear a thong, like, for reals - I work at a lingerie store so I get men and thongs, I really do. I'll gladly wear one for a few minutes to mix it up and spice up the evening, but any man who expects me to switch out my boyshorts for buttfloss all day had better be willing to do the same.
10. Eat durian - Yes, I know I might be missing out on one of life's greatest pleasures -- but I simply can't get past the smell. And I've tried, I've really tried. But when a man I love once told me, "If you really love me you'll eat [durian]" I told him that if it were a test then I'd already failed. After all these years I haven't figured out the "that" Meatloaf was referring to when he sung about what he wouldn't do for love, but in my head it's probably this.

WITH OR WITHOUT YOU

I haven't had a professional mani-pedi in exactly a year and one month now.

Yes, I know. Your blank stare reminds me that I really ought to stop making pronouncements like this, especially as there are millions out there in the world who would be happy to have, say, safe drinking water every day. There are people who face too many life-and-death issues to ever think about the way their nails look, much less care if they still have them.

But I think about my nails because I used to be at my local beauty salon every Sunday, where I'd get my weekly manicure and bi-weekly pedicure. Where I'd get a blow out so that I could start my week on an up note, with fabulous-looking hair. Whenever I'd get teased about my beauty extravagance, I'd reply it was a necessary expense because I didn't know how to do my nails or hair, no matter how hard I tried. Today is Sunday and my nails are not polished, nor is my hair otherworldly shiny and smooth.

There are many things I've had to do without because I'm in a prolonged period of transition in my life, when suddenly every dollar has to count for something. When I splurge on a grande white chocolate mocha (make that skinny, please) it had better be the way I like it. Please. If I'm feeling carefree enough to blow fifteen bucks on a movie, I'd be pissed if I didn't walk out of the theater with a smile on my face.

I used to buy only my preferred brands at the grocery store; now, I often choose what's on sale. Except in certain situations; for instance, I will only buy Campbell's Cream of Mushroom soup over any generic brand, no matter the price difference. Some things, you see, are sacred -- plus I can only make my mom's macaroni casserole taste exactly the way it's supposed to if I use the brand she always did.

There was a time, not so long ago, when I wouldn't think twice about paying 25 dollars for lipstick. Now a makeup splurge consists of a purchase during a Buy One Get One Half Off promotion at the drugstore. I used to buy at least one "must-have" piece of clothing every week. As I sit here typing this I can't remember the last time I bought clothes for myself. Ah, wait -- I do. It was at the GAP a few months ago; I stood in the fitting room facing the mirror for ten minutes, trying to decide whether I should spend nine bucks on a tee shirt on sale at 30 percent off.

During times like this you discover just what you can live with and what you can live without. But you also realize what's most important to you. In my case, plush toilet paper. No matter how low my bank account balance is, I will buy only Charmin Ultra Soft or Quilted Northern Ultra Plush. Yes, even if it means dipping into my food budget. You've got to have standards, you know.

And even if all my clothes can now fit into one standard closet -- with room to spare -- I refuse to buy cheap clothing that will fall apart after a handful of washings. I'll save my money so that I can buy the one thing that I really want (or rather, that I really need). When I find my will breaking down as I'm dying to buy a REALLY cute pair of shoes on sale, I remind myself that I have a truckful of clothes and accessories back in storage in California that are begging to be worn again. All I have now are what I hauled with me from Los Angeles to Manila to Seattle; in other words, my essentials. It's not much, for sure, but for the first time in my adult life I know exactly what's in my closet before I open its doors.

Another thing I won't compromise on: a good haircut. I pay the same amount I used to -- but I get a cut only once every three or four months now, instead of two. I have to color my own hair, though, even if it means doing without the highlights that used to brighten up my face. And I won't write on cheap stationery. I still believe in writing thank you cards, and I take pleasure doing so on pretty paper.

I could make a short list of the things I won't do without. It used to be a much longer one, but eventually I discovered that life would go on without many of the things I once deemed as life's necessities. But you see, every dollar I could spend is a dollar I can save toward achieving the things I need to do to move myself forward. And even when I've gone past these days of essential penny-pinching, I suspect my list won't stretch out ever again. You may not know what you have until it's gone, but sometimes you learn that it really wasn't worth having in the first place.

Now excuse me while I attempt to give myself a manicure. It won't be pretty, I know -- but I suspect no one's really going to notice. Just as no one's noticed the frizz in my hair today. Or maybe because this is Seattle, where frizz is part of the landscape, like the rain.

 

DRAWING A BUCKET LIST

I have a milestone birthday coming up in a few years, and I'm already wondering how I'll measure my life when I get there. Not by my children, since I don't have any. Not by possessions; one quickly realizes that they can come and go far too easily. By love? That's a tricky one. I've had quite a few -- enough to write a book about (we'll get back to this later) and my two failed marriages are hearty fodder for pretty hardcore counseling, should I ever seek it one day. And yet I consider myself fairly lucky in this regard; with only a couple of exceptions, I'd be thrilled to see my past loves show up if I were featured in a '50s This Is Your Life episode.

I am surrounded by friends who are among the kindest, most decent people living, as well as sisters and nieces whom I would choose to be my friends if I weren't related to them already. My parents would never win any awards for parenting, but I've gotten to that point in my life where I wouldn't trade them for anyone else's. Besides, they managed to keep me alive this long, right?

But managing to live this long is not enough reason to pat myself on the back, especially in today's world when how we're supposed to look and feel is what we used to at least 10 years ago. Thus I've decided -- finally -- to give myself much to look forward to and aspire for and write it all down in a bucket list.

In case you haven't heard the term before, it's a list of things you plan to do before you hit a predetermined age. I'd never bothered to draft one before because I was content to simply live and see what happens while I'm doing just that. After all, something interesting always happened. But now I've realized that I need to actually MAKE things happen in my life -- and that it's never too late to make anything until you actually can't.

So what would be on it? Somewhere on top would be learning how to ride a bicycle; every year I say I'll finally do this but somehow I always get distracted and put it off for the next. This would be the most physically-challenging item on my list, I'm certain. I have absolutely no desire to run a marathon, climb a mountain, bungee-jump, or hurl myself off a plane high up in the air. NONE. WHATSOEVER. And when I finally learn how to ride a bike there will be no finish lines or stopwatches involved. Instead, think of a green basket on the handlebar and in it, a cute terrier of some sort, a bouquet of daisies, and a warm French baguette (in my mind the terrier never bothers to eat the daisies or the bread, by the way).

There will be no possessions involved, for sure. It would be so nice to live in a quaint cottage with wood floors topped with slightly fraying rugs, a brick wall in the living room with lots of books on the shelves, and a small but fertile garden where I can sit outside in the Spring with my man and our dog and cat -- but in a way I have that already. It's the happy place I go to in my head when the world gets a bit too weary for words. Besides, I've decided that material things have no place in any bucket list I make because my tastes can and do change (except for the house I just described).

There will be lots of learning involved -- a lifetime of it, in fact. I want to go back to school, maybe for a Master's degree but definitely for lots of classes.There will also be relearning: I want to rediscover my old passions for art and photography. There will be certificates for professional makeup artistry and esthetics, too. And there will also be music; perhaps I'll finally learn how to play an acoustic guitar.

I will travel -- although I'd have to be completely honest here and admit that I'd require some degree of comfort while doing so. We're not talking a stay at the Four Seasons or some fancy private resort here -- but if I could afford either then, at least once in a while, then of course I would choose to (It's MY bucket list!). As long as I have access to air-conditioning in the summer and a clean bathroom at all times, I'm good. I hope that's not too unreasonable to ask for.

And finally there will be writing -- a book, in fact. Perhaps it will be a book consisting of short stories or essays, but most definitely it will be about love and loss and how if one had truly loved and been loved in return then everything in life would have been worth it. Because even now, without my bucket list in hand, I know that I've had a pretty good one. After all, I'm still forward-looking and learning (hoping) to love each day more than the last.

Bucket list on its way soon.

RESOLUTIONS

Every year I resolutely avoid making resolutions. This year my resolve isn't as strong, which only means either or both: (1) I'll make a list of them, and (2) I'll break every one of them.

1. I will read all the books waiting to be read beside my bed before I go out and buy another. I'd like to say the same thing for all my magazines -- but since I subscribe to most of them, they're gonna keep coming anyway.

2. I'll eat more fruits and vegetables, and will (finally) avail of my free membership to the gym. Notice I didn't say "I will lose weight this year." That's because I used to say that every year, but realized whether I did or didn't had nothing to do with having resolved to do it. For instance, one year in the late '90s (the hair gives the decade away) I lost 30 lbs. to be a bridesmaid at my friend's wedding; the next year I gained most of it back. Then I gained a few more, and then after that it was up and down. This past year or so it has been nothing but down, and if health reasons won't get me to where I want to be, then vanity surely will.

3. I will not wear red lipstick EVER again. I have two photographs in this blog of me -- see above for the second -- with lips that can rival the size of Angelina's and Jennifer's (no, not the one whose husband the former stole, but the other one). The only explanation I have for this is red lipstick -- which seems like a good idea while I'm looking in the mirror, but is always a disaster in photographs. Dressed in red, my lips just take over half of my entire face; they don't look simply bee-stung, they make me look like I ate the entire hive.

4. I will take more trips outside California, preferably outside of the US. It finally hit the hubby and me recently: Why don't we travel much, much more while we can, since we can? We don't have a huge mortgage that eats up our budget, we have lots of available vacation days to use, we don't have children (all I need is a catsitter for Boo), and we're both healthy and hardy enough to move around? So we started the year by taking a quick weekend trip to Coronado the first day of the year; they say whatever you're doing in the New Year foreshadows what you'll be doing during the rest of it. Well, it was slightly ominous that a storm hit Southern California during the first trip we took in 2006. Still, I opened the door to the balcony at night and slept enveloped in goosedown comforter, the winds and the chill; it was the best sleep I'd had in months (another good way to start the year).

5. I will cook and tend to my garden more, clean out my closet so my husband (finally) has room to hang a shirt in it, organize the one in the guest room (AKA my shoe closet) too, stay in touch with my friends more, and shop less. I know these are six resolutions in one, but if I resolve to keep 10 resolutions I'll be too overwhelmed, run out of steam, and will surely quit before I even begin.

So excuse me while I run off to one of our gym locations in another city, bring a book to read on the treadmill, not wear red lipstick while I'm doing just that, and drink a fruit smoothie to reward myself after my workout. That takes care of my first four resolutions -- and all on the same day.

The last one can wait; after taking care of the first four, I deserve a break.

GIGI THE GROUCH

I usually am in one of three moods: pensive, happy, or overjoyed. This week make it four: grouchy.

I'm still feeling a bit crotchety but haven't let go of my usual optimism, for instance: I know, for sure, I'm not going to kill anyone today. Trust me, with the kind of week I've been having, I consider that statement of positivity proof of my deep-down inner perkiness. Still, I find that these days, things that normally bug me REALLY annoy me -- and until I shake off this funk I'm in, it would be best for folks who generally fit any of the following descriptions to keep away from me (or announce yourselves so I can stay away from you).

1. FLAB BLAB - Didn't all our mothers tell us that if we have nothing good to say about others, then just don't say it? Five days before I get on a plane to Manila and I'm already dreading the idea of chancing upon a (rude) relative or former classmate/acquaintance, have him or her take a good look at me and ask loudly, "Anong nangyari sa iyo -- ang taba mo na (Hey what happened to you? You've gotten fat!)!"

   I feel insulted on so many different levels that it's all I can do to contain myself from launching into verbal attack mode. First: Do you think I'm so stupid (and blind) that I can't see for myself I've gained weight? Thanks for noticing but maybe you should buy a mirror that actually works and then take a good look at yourself first -- if you can stand it. Two: Oh yeah, I know -- in fact I've been losing weight slowly but surely. But I'm worried about you; I don't think they've found a cure for ugliness yet, or have they? Three: Yes, I guess I am -- but you should know all about that since you're so fat yourself! Four: Oh you know what they say, fat but happy! Too bad you're not, apparently. Five: Well, I wasn't going to suggest you need a complete beauty and fashion makeover really, really badly, but since you brought the topic up..."

   People tell me that folks back home do that only because it's their way of either saying hello or making conversation. Next time they should just try saying, "Ang tagal mo nang nawala -- kamusta ka na (You've been gone for so long -- what's up with you?)? Is that really so hard to do?

2. TONGUE TWISTER - It's one thing to assume an American/English/Australian accent because you live in any one of those English-speaking countries and need to be understood by the locals. Or even if you've lived there for so long that your accent's been unavoidably altered. But I know this woman who lived in Australia for less than a year (she had to leave because she didn't have the necessary immigration documents in order to stay). And she likes to tell folks that when she speaks to any Australian person, her accent "comes back" to her (she's obviously not referring to her Filipino accent.). She now refers to her mother as "mum" (even if for almost two decades she called her "mom" or "mommy") and breaks into a cringe-inducing pseudo-Australian accent that even Nicole Kidman wouldn't recognize.

   I know this for a fact: Someone who has lived in another country for a year or so will not acquire a new accent permanently. I've lived in the States for more than twice the period I resided in the Philippines, and when I go back you wouldn't really know I've been gone this long; for crissakes even the call center folks in Makati speak with a stronger twang than I do over there. Look -- even Madonna sounds ridiculous conversing like a member of English royalty (even if she owns almost as much acreage as they do). The only reason people affect accents is to show how much "better" they've become or how superior they now are. In fact, my English friends say that when they want to intimidate Americans, they try to sound like BBC presenters and milk the Queen's English for all its worth.

3. AIR HEAD - My friend Joe met a woman through Friendster a while back; she's a model/partygirl in Hong Kong. When he showed me her profile, I had a near-conniption when I read her state unequivocally that NO ugly persons are to contact her. She warns: "If you're ugly and try to contact me I will send you a mirror." Ouch. I mean, she's not lacking in the pulchritude department (at least as far as I could tell with all that makeup she had on), but Zhang Ziyi she's certainly not.

   Whenever I come across folks who have an inflated sense of their superiority (be it because of their beauty, money, class, title, and so on), I can almost hear the the slow hissing sound of their balloon deflating. Because no one has what they have forever, and someone else is always bound to be on top.

4. PEA BRAIN - I'll make this one short because I believe it should be so obvious. I don't enjoy comments that are racist, sexist, homophobic -- anything that involves hating and harming people due to fear and ignorance. And jokes of this kind are the worst; they're powerful tools of all cowardly bigots. Because how do you fight a joke? You really can't -- because the lily-livered idiot hides underneath the cloak of jest, inevitably claims to have only been joking, and then accuses you of having no sense of humor. I have absolutely no patience for anything mean-spirited or close-minded -- even when it comes from the mouths of those near and dear to me. There's just nothing funny about hate.