Prince "Guntars Asmanis" Charming

This is more of a silly blog entry about something that's been on my mind ever since I was a kid. I think every girl has their picture of Prince Charming in their mind ever since they discovered Disney princesses, stone castles, and unicorns. I had this image of Prince Charming in my mind and over time, he's changed. Sometimes I like to think about him so much that when someone asks me if I have a special someone, I'm almost inclined to say 'yes', but then remember that P. Charming only exists in my head, and when I do meet this actual guy, he won't look anything or be much like P. Charming at all.

So, this is a blog entry about P. Charming. This is going to be embarassing but it's OK because every girl's got a piece of him too. They're just not willing to share their secret relationship with him. I may not share everything about him either because I don't want people to know everything about this guy. I certainly wouldn't want my family reading this and getting a kick out of every single wish I had that my dream guy would have. So the qualities of P. Charming that I'm going to list here are going to be totally childish and superficial because in my mind, he's perfect. Whenever I hear that Katy Perry song of how he's going to rescue me from boredom, this is who I envision.

Name: I'm not revealing this part. That's only because there's someone I know who actually has this name and my feelings toward that person are entirely unrelated to P. Charming's real name.

Age: He'd be young forever. He'd be my age or up to four years older partly because that's how much older my dad is in comparison to my mom's age. Any more than that and I think my parents would begin to worry.

Job/Career: This boy would be a model. He'd be the more fit version of Sean Opry because Sean Opry I feel is the right kind of size. Sean may not be toned but he's the right size since I feel like Abercrombie models are too obsessed with the gym and high fashion male models are too skinny and/or too manly looking to the point that their faces look weird. However, he'd be so versatile that he could model for high fashion and get me free stuff from the fashion shows all the time. Miuccia Prada and Karl Lagerfeld would totally love his face the way they loved Sasha's. However, because he's thinking about his future, he actually wants to get his degree in Bioengineering and possibly consider working for a large biotech company.

Talents: Not only can he model, he also loves singing and playing the guitar. The thing that is so great about him is that he models only part-time because he sees modelling as a short-lived career so he wants to make the most out of his intelligence by going to college and using the money he earns from modelling to pay his way through school.

Appearance: He'd have black/brown hair. I don't really care too much about the hair color so I think in my mind, his hair color is always changing but I envision more black/brown than I envision blonde. P. Charming's hair is usually the classic blonde, but I think the hottest guys today all got brown hair or darker shades. His facial structure would have a combination of strong features but ultimately has a soft look to them. I'd have to like his hair too and I don't know why that's a big deal. Maybe it's because I don't want him bald? Although if it was that guy from Prison Break, I wouldn't mind too much either. I don't care too much for eye color but blue eyes are always nice. I might prefer green because no one's eyes are green anymore.

You know what, forget this. This is who I think about when I think about P. Charming.

This guy (not P. Charming) is Guntars Asmanis, who has modeled for Hugo Boss and Kenzo and has walked for the big names like D&G. He's the face who I envision in my mind 50% of the time.

The other 50% is a boy that I've spoken to only twice in my life but he lives in Canada now and there's no way he'd remember me. There's no way my parents would ever approve of him because he doesn't go to college and behaves like a childish girl, which is not really a preference high on my list. To protect his privacy, I'm not going to post his picture here. He might discover this and track me down...which sometimes in my mind, sounds like a good idea.

Of course, I have more things going on about P. Charming whenever I listen to Taylor Swift songs but besides that, he's 100% imaginary. He's there whenever I want to think about him, and conveniently vanishes when I want.

Image credits: skywardprodigal.livejournal.com, urban-tease.blogspot.com

Native Food

I remember when I was younger (a.k.a. a few years ago, back in high school), I had this immensive dislike for Chinese food because I was often forced to eat my share of white rice, the same sort of wet, drippy cooking that my mom liked to put together every single weekday. What made my dislike of it even greater was of my culturally-ignorant non-Asian peers who would try to convince me that I was missing out on their favorite oriental dishes: white rice, orange chicken, and teriyaki sauce.

I remember there was this one time when I worked in the legal department at Maxim Integrated Products as an intern, the other intern I worked with was absolutely bewildered at my dislike of Chinese food. Again, she, like my high school peers who only knew the world of P.F. Chang's, Mr. Chau's, and Panda Express, said how she enjoyed white (or fried) rice, orange or teriyaki chicken, and California rolls. When the entire department, her, and I went to grab dim sum, she immediately cringed and grew suspicious of all the Chinese food before her. She predictably poked at her Ha Gao with her obvious choice of a fork utensil, and wonder if the shrimp inside was edible. She then asked me if any of this food was safe to eat, and mentally I roll my eyes at every single fear she had about chicken feet, pork buns, egg tarts, and tofu deserts. Thank you for trying to correct my dislike of Chinese food when pork buns seem unsafe to eat.

However, the people who found my initial dislike of Chinese food to be strange had a point. Usually, people from different nationalities prefer their own culture's food more than other ethnic foods. And because I am Chinese, it seemed odd that I disliked my own ethnic food.

But ever since I was young, I actually did prefer my own culture's food over others. Even to this day, my favorite food to have is Malaysian. My whole family is from Malaysia and a lot of the dishes my mom put together when dinner wasn't involved, had Malaysian influences, and those were my favorite dishes of hers at that time. I really enjoyed the variety of sauces and curry and meats that Malay foods had to offer that foods from other cultures didn't have. Of course, because of the Indian and Thai influences, it's no surprise that I liked Indian and Thai food as well despite how spicy they are (but it makes the meal all the more fun to have).

The reason why I brought this up was because this last weekend, my parents and I went to a Malaysian/Singaporean restaurant that has been around since I remembered moving to Milpitas. Banana Leaf has always been my first or second favorite restaurant (Nyo Nya was my first for a while, but its owner lost Nyo Nya due to his gambling habits) and since I haven't eaten there in years, the food brought back many memories of me from early grade school when I could have all the Roti Canai and Beef/Chicken satay sticks that I could want.

`

Another thing that I didn't like as a kid but I really love now is the appetizer dish called the Nasi Lemak where a bowl of coconut rice is served with one whole cold hard-boiled egg that's already been diced, a handful of peanuts, and beef w/ curry. It's the best thing in the world. Over dinner, my dad told me that this was the typical breakfast food he had in Malaysia when he was growing up there. His mom would make this for him and he would mix all of the parts together which made the dish end up resembling fried rice, only messier, and not really fried. He would have this every day and I told him if I had this every day, I'd be the happiest camper ever.

The last dish was sort of our main entree along with this other dish that my mom ordered that tasted pretty oily. This one though was the typically good plate of noodles that Malay chefs would drown in sodium, soy sauce, and all that good fattening stuff. Chow Kueh Teow is the dish that my parents have to order every time we go to a Malaysian restaurant along with the Nasi Lemak, the Roti Canai, and the Beef/Chicken Satay.

And lastly, I used to love this stuff as a kid, but my newfound love for Nasi Lemak sort of replaced this. I had this every day for breakfast when I was in Malaysia last summer for 2 weeks. In my opinion, it was better than any Denny's or dining hall breakfast that I had in America but it obviously goes with my preference for my own country's food rather than 'foreign food' (aka that country across the Pacific Ocean). The Hainan Chicken Rice at Banana Leaf is the closest I've ever gotten to my homeland's chicken rice. It falls short by a mile compared to the ones they make in rural parts of Malaysia because the soy sauce in Malaysia has a mix of salty and sweet textures in their soy sauce that I didn't think was possibly good until I tried it.

And I don't consider it real chicken rice if the it tastes like faint chicken and white. It's got to be yellow. White and chicken-tasting doesn't cut it.

Image credits: softrice.wordpress.com, flickr, hungerhunger.blogspot.com, feedmelah.com, newasiancuisne.wordpress.com

Beautifugly

In this last week, in the time span of three days, I received two compliments that made me think twice about my self-esteem--in a good way though. I was talking about this with my parents and my brother because this issue has always been on my mind ever since I became aware that people noticed someone who was pretty or ugly. For me, that awakening began in 5th grade when I remember this girl who insisted she be called Kaylee (I forgot her real name) who was really popular with my class but always criticized people who complimented her.

So what took me back to this personal topic was what two really good friends of mine said to me spontaneously. The two conversations went something like this.

Conversation 1.
Her: You look fine. You lost weight and you're pretty.
Me: Really? That's nice, thanks, but I don't believe you.
Her: No, I mean it when I say it.
Me: I guess so but I just don't believe it when people tell me that.
Her: You know me. When do I ever hand out compliments like that? Just take it.

Conversation 2.
Him: I always wonder if appearance plays a big role in getting someone.
Me: I think it does because if I looked any better I wouldn't have a problem.
Him: No, don't worry about your appearance. Really, you look better than you think you do. Don't worry about that.
Me: Really, you think so?
Him: Yeah, don't worry, your appearance isn't the problem. I've seen many people that look much worse. Don't worry, you look fine.

That was about how those conversations went and it's so hard to have those kind of conversations because when you talk about someone's appearance, it's so personal. It's really personal to me because of what I went through in junior high and what I grew up believing because of circumstances in my life that made me convinced, 'Gosh, they are right. I really am hideous. These pictures just prove it too.'

It started in 6th grade, but the part where I successfully convinced myself I must be grotesque to look at was in 7th grade. No one knew this about me (until now). I was talking to my brother about this in the car that during 6th and 7th grade, I was bullied quite a bit which is probably why I have much more pessimistic outlook and much more defensive today. The people who I liked and trusted during junior high were the ones responsible for this sort of insecurity I've always had and continue to have today. Ever since the summer after 6th grade, I was always convinced that I looked terrible. I would mentally cringe at every picture I saw of myself. I still do now, because if one thing that hasn't changed, it's my mentality that I wholeheartedly believe I am not someone pleasant to look at. I am that dehumanizing word called ugly. I still believe this somewhat to a certain degree today.

The first feedback I ever got about my appearance was when one of my friends in 6th grade had a crush on this guy that I had a secretly liked as well but encouraged her to go for him anyway. When she found out about my little secret, she went ahead and had other girls find out what he thought of me and her. I was told that he said about us: he thought she was pretty and kind of liked her but doesn't like girls right now. When it came to me, he said I looked weird and was an idiotic idiot.

The summer after sixth grade, I went to a summer camp at Stanford that included a curriculum for speech and debate and public speaking. There was a boy I had a huge crush on. His name was Kirk Kasuya I think. I might have the first name wrong. Anyway, I had the biggest crush on him, and thought he liked me somewhat in return, that was, until the summer camp was over. We connected through e-mail and he told me that he didn't remember which one I was out of the three Asian girls that hung out together. He said one of them was so pretty, and the other one had a flat face, gray hair, and was really ugly. He never mentioned anything about the third one so thinking that I obviously didn't have gray hair, I said that I was the third one. He replied the following day, saying that he remembered me now that I was the ugly girl with the flat face and gray hair and that he wished he could talk to the girl in my group that was so pretty. That was the second feedback I ever got about my appearance from someone outside of my family.

During seventh grade, the same incident was repeated. During family groups (which was this thing my school did by separating the entire student body into groups that included a few people from each grade level so that all the grades could interact with each other every week), two girls who I considered my friends at that time were talking about what her boyfriend said about every girl in our Asian group.

Girl 2: So what did he say I look like?
Girl 1: My boyfriend said your face reminded him of a fish. But guess who he said was the ugliest?
Girl 2: Who? Tell me!
Girl 1 pointed to me with both fingers: You. He also said that your head was huge, it probably weighs heavier than all of ours.

I grew convinced that that's why no one else liked me. I was seriously a defect and I still believe it somewhat to this day despite how confident people say they think I am about myself. Whenever someone was asked a question during an online quiz they took about me, if I was pretty, if they were to reply that I was 'cute' instead of 'pretty', I became used to the idea that 'cute' was a nice way of saying ugly. However, ever since I came to college, there has been a small collection of evidence that has contradicted what has been said to my face during 6th and 7th grade.

First of all, a guy that I dated during freshman year said that for an Asian girl, I had really pretty eyes. I told him it was nice of him to say that, but I didn't believe him. I remember being confused why someone like him, who was really cute, would be remotely interested in me, the ugliest Asian girl in my junior high class with braces and everything.

Fastforward to the summer after freshman year when I got into a bit of a fender-bender in Stockton after getting lunch from In-N-Out. After I pulled over and parked at WaMu with the other car involved in the accident, the guy who was a passenger in the other car was talking on the phone telling his friend that he was going to be late and that he felt bad for this pretty-looking Asian girl that bumped into his mom's car. I pretended that I made that up. Part of me still thinks I heard it wrong and I just made it up in my mind to make myself feel better about that incident.

Fastforward to summer after my sophomore year, I was hired to work at Hollister. If there was any place I felt more uncomfortable at, it was at Hollister and Abercrombie in that every time I walked into those stores, I would be slightly intimidated by the pretty people working on those stores. I remember sitting through the group interview thinking that out of all of these people, I was really the ugliest one. What chance did I have? Then, I got hired, and realized 'Wow, despite their infamous "looks" policy. maybe I'm not that hideous. But they'll probably put me in the back anyway.' However, on my first day, they put in the front where they put the greeters. In my mind, I saw that had to mean that they were confident enough with my appearance that they'd put me to work out in the front where all the customers could see me. I remember I used to be intimidated by the greeters because they were so polished and pleasant to look at. And now, I'm standing where they are? So how do I react to this contradicting information about my appearance? Well, they had to put someone out on the floor and besides, they had no one else to greet at that moment.

Then fall of that same year comes around and I began to go over to the Alpha Phi House frequently. In my mind, in order to be in a sorority you had to have the qualities of being pretty or at least just dress the part. When they invited me to join their house, I wondered, 'do I really look like a sorority girl?' What was my response to this contradicting information? 'Well, I've seen ugly sorority girls so I guess I just have the style and the personality down right.'

Then comes this last week where my two close friends on separate occasions say really nice things about how I look. I'm not used to it. I don't know if I still believe it now. Honestly, I still think I might have somehow made all this stuff up and/or there was a reason those things happened because I just happened to be at the right place and time, but in reality, I still am ugly to look at.

It's a terrible insecurity that I don't think I can ever get over. I don't think any girl or guy ever gets over this insecurity entirely especially when this culture bases so much of our interactions on how we look whether we like to believe it or not. I don't think constantly think about how my face looks but once in a while, it does bother me to the point where I wonder, why does my face look like this? Why can't I be pretty like Gemma Ward or Natasha Poly? Why am I not photogenic? Is it true I really have to accept the fact I'm ugly and be done with? I wish I wasn't.

But after what those two friends of mine have said this week, they've done something invaluable for me. They've reassured me one thing, that even though I'm not convinced I'm pretty in any way, they've allowed me to be more comfortable with myself. They've allowed me to believe almost, that I'm simply not ugly.

I wish I could go back 8 years and tell myself that. I remember how crushed and sad I was when I was told those things. I wish I could go back and tell the 7th grade version of me and tell her not to worry because those people have not seen how much prettier she'll become and that there will come the day where she will not be the ugliest Asian girl in the class.

I hope that another 8 years from now, I can convince myself that I'm pretty because I'm at peace about it.

Wish List

So again I have another exam within about 7 hours and here I am on my blog again because I believed studying for Psychology was going to take me 4 hours but it ended up only taking me 45 minutes. After this, I'll probably take a nap again, let the information incubate, and then repeat what I just did before deciding to procrastinate.

During Physio lecture yesterday, while my professor was going on and on about the cardiovascular system, I started thinking about the kind of clothes that Vlada Roslyakova wore.



I know that's probably not what my parents paid for me to do when taking notes during class, but I couldn't help but think of how incredibly narrow my range and choice in clothings are. Looking at these pictures makes me really want to purchase a fur jacket even though no one in California owns a fur jacket and not to mention that I'll probably be gunned down by PETA for some ridiculous reasoning that my life isn't equivalent to that of an animal's. But really, I couldn't help but think of how limited fashion in America is like and how much people get scrutinized and judged when they want to improve their appearance. Who're you doing this for? Why get dressed up for class? Why look nice at all? Who're you trying to impress? Do you think looking nice is going to get you anywhere? What's the point of looking nice when no one around you cares? Why are you wasting effort thinking about how you look when you're at school to study? And my mom's favorite reused phrase, 'you think you're dressing up for some kind of parade?'

When did it really become more socially acceptable for the average person to not place any effort into how they look? It's not like it took me an extra 30 minutes to pick out the right outfit although I have had my fair share of mornings where I couldn't decide what to wear but the same can be said for those who couldn't decide which sweatpants would match best with their gym tank top and tennis shoes. There seems to be a disconnect between people who dress sloppy and how relatable they are to other people. The worse you look, the more approachable you become because the assumption is that you aren't consumed enough by your appearance that people will find you more open to talk to. However, I think that assumption was made out of the insecurities of people with ugly clothing who'd like to make themselves feel better about their wardrobe malfunction.

But anyway, the reason why I brought any of this up and felt like I had to justify myself for daydreaming about what Vlada Roslyakova wore during Physio, was because of what I was doing in my downtime after yesterday's Calc exam. H&M has their new spring collection online and I am absolutely in love with some of the safari styles that they have. It only upsets me that there aren't more stores like H&M and I'm sort of tired of resorting to Forever 21 as my default store. Urban Outfitters would have been next on my list but considering that the typical dress + leggings combination would cost me over a $100, it's obviously become more convenient to find a similar pairing in Forever 21 for $30.

It made me suddenly envious of people living in Europe who have massive amounts of boutique stores that they can choose from. One of my favorite online stores to look at is Topshop because it has this quirky sense of style that I feel I could totally relate with. It has this interesting, unique vibe to it that differs from the cookie-cutter stores like American Eagle Outfitters, Abercrombie, Hollister, Aeropostale, Old Navy, and heaven-forbid Gap, that all immortalized the culture of sweat pants, plain t-shirts, and absence of creativity in all of their clothing. Even Zara as well has a funky vibe to it whenever I look through their catalogue and find the way that their mixture of clothing suddenly bring out this sense of individual style in the person that it makes me want to just move to New York and live there for the rest of my life.

So, my goal over the summer would be to hit up these places and see how I can have fun redefining my sense of style for the next few years. Sure, I will still be drawn to the glowing windows of Forever 21 and H&M's more high fashion look. However, I want to expand on the choices I have in the way I wear certain things. This may not happen but looking at the way someone like Vlada wears her clothes makes me want to rethink how many years I have left to dress young before I become a flabby, wrinkly old soccer mom with 8 kids.

Stores to shop at for the summer:
1. Topshop (if I can get to New York somehow)
2. Zara
3. Aritzia/tna
4. Mango
5. Boutique stores in random Asian malls and Santa Cruz

Polevshchikova

So instead of studying for my Calc II exam which I will have to take within exactly 6 hours, I'm putting together a blog instead. This is probably the 25th blog site I've ever made and the reasons for other ones dying out were probably due to differeing interests and my distaste of broken layouts or awkward URL names.

Hopefully this time, I will entirely narrow down my list of blogs that I actually want to update consistently to this one, my Xanga, and the other blog that no one knows and shouldn't know about. It's a bit difficult because I like to follow where my friends go in terms of blogging because it'd make it more convenient for me to read what they're thinking and yeah, I guess for them to read what I'm thinking.

Anyway, so it's 6:37AM, and I was going through one of the forum threads at FashionSpot, and I came across this absolutely gorgeous picture of Natasha Poly that user diorelle put together to celebrate Natasha's appearance on the cover of US Vogue this May issue.



If anyone were to ask me if I could trade places with anyone for a day, I would wholeheartedly trade my shoes to be this model. I think it's because I fell in love with the idea of this picture. It's not the first time that I wished I could be in New York right now and run around the legendary Tiffany jewelry store for the rest of my life carrying Tiffany shopping bags around or window-shopping at their selection wearing a Givenchy black dress.



There's something about the Tiffany & Co. building in New York that provides some sort of escape in times like these. The idea of that place and the kind of dreamy escape it provides is what makes every picture of a young woman in front of that store so captivating. Seeing that picture of Natasha Poly run out of Tiffany & Co. with joy makes me want to be there right now and do exactly the same thing because even though it doesn't solve any of my problems, it certainly would make me feel much more excited about life rather than knowing that I should be studying for my Calculus exam.

When I do go to pharmacy school, which I absolutely will, I want to make sure the last place I go to before it starts is to visit this place. I know it is incredibly superficial to go to Tiffany and use that place as some sort of inspiration to become motivated about life. However, I think it's one of the many things that I can go to, look at, and think 'someday, someday'. It's weird because it's nto as if I want to own anything from Tiffany. I think if I did own any of it, it would take the magic away, and I don't think there would be this fascination of wanting to go to Tiffany again.