Thursday, July 25, 2013

Dorky

Arissa is somewhat weird.

She watches television shows a lot. Only that she downloaded it instead of watching it on the black box, or a black monitor as how it is now – everybody has gone LCD and LED. She doesn’t watch the popular ones – Desperate Housewives, Glee, True Blood, Suits. She’s more on the New York based shows like Gossip Girl, Sex and the City, The Newsroom and reading New York Magazine online.

She treasures Anthony Bourdain and David Chang with great fondness.

She’s dull and somewhat colourful. She can be very reserved and very outspoken depending on her moods. When extremely nervous, she stutters or pronounced two words at the same time that it merged into a gibberish word. She can also be a smooth talker or worse, a very seductive sweet talker. She’s witty and sarcastic, also very emotional.

However, Naqi is hooked. He’s amused, enamoured and also tenderly curious of Arissa’s personality. She’s eccentric and has her own set of antiques. She can be very cold, dismissive with any issue simply by the expression on her face or the rolling of her eyes. Then again, she can also be gentle and considerate, thoughtful and genuinely concern.

Still, Naqi is attracted to her. He likes her face, her threaded brows, eyes and mascara-coated long lashes. He’s entertained when she puts on the lip balm, lipstick and lipgloss ceremoniously each time after they finished their meal. He enjoys looking at the pair of painted lips when he greets her, while she’s sipping her coffee and when they parted.

Naqi likes everything about Arissa when they spend time together. The smell of her shampoo, her flower-scented lotions and simply when he sometimes caught her breath that smells of coffee and mints. Arissa used to have her hair long but these days she has it bob only above her shoulders.

She wears braces and it is more about losing her weight rather than straightening her teeth. She’s just funny that way. As much as she whines about her weight, she still eats heartily. She loves the way sashimi melts in her mouth, loving her steaks medium to medium well. She enjoys poached eggs, anything potato-based and a lot of greens on her plate. 

There’s a lot to learn about Arissa. Naqi is in no rush and he’s taking his time getting to know her. At times he’s surprised with how a rollercoaster freak Arissa can be but he’s usually very happy with her – in Jason Mraz’s song, Arissa is a beautiful mess in his eyes.

Arissa loves a good sandwich. She also enjoys a good spread of lauk at any nasi campur stall. She doesn’t mind getting lost into a very good breakfast or spends the whole day having brunch. Arissa can eat through a buffet and will always have coffee at the end of it. Basically Arissa loves food and she loves to eat to the point she occasionally takes a hiatus.

Arissa is also enthusiastic about the ingredients. She’s not interested at all in the process of cooking but she loves the raw materials and preparing before the cooking. Arissa gets all excited going to the market be it dry but especially the wet market. She loves looking at the seafood, dead or alive. She observes the vegetables and herbs like it’s art, like they are visiting a museum.

Arissa also gets excited eating at the food stalls having a bowl of noodles or a regular plate of nasi campur – she usually tries the bergedil, the eggplant sambal and sampling the veges. She couldn’tsay no to a freshly fried chicken or a nicely grilled catfish. The aroma got her hooked like it’s crack.

It’s one of the things that Naqi doesn’t mind having Arissa with him. Although Arissa is at the very least interested to visit livestock farms, Naqi is secretly entertained at how she clings to him, how cute she looks in a pair of rubber boots and how petrified she can be with the big hooves. She whines and muttered to herself, and some point she keeps quite as in keeping her opinions to herself rather than displeasing Naqi.
This is just one of the moments that Naqi felt he has found a soulmate.

Thursday, July 18, 2013

Self-hatred

I was butt-ugly. Worse than an ugly duckling. What with the dark skin, small nose, the protruding forehead when I pulled my hair back, half-orb coming out of my eye sockets, too round cheeks, the jutting lower lip, and worst -- the teeth.
I had it last time, holding a pencil between my upper teeth and beneath the lower lip while I guffawed. It was a habit that later made me "jongang" -- couldn't find the English word for it. I remember the disdain from the dentist after examining my profile sideways. I remember a lot of things the kids said to me, right when I was a kid and until now. They were merciless taunts and comments at times, or most of the times.

I guess I am still ugly but I learn to control it. I learn to use make up, I learn to take care of my skin, I learn to smile that minimizes the jongang effect, I learn, I learn, I learn. But nothing could erase the ugly past. Especially when people keep tagging me on Facebook with the worst images of me.

I hate it when people tagged me on Facebook when I am at most unflattering -- when I had some sleazy hairstyle, them teeth that affect my smiles, or laughs, the oily dark skin. Once I lashed out a thousand miles away to a guy who posted an unflattering image of me on his Instagram. He thinks it's love ... guess he is blind after all.

Weird that when I was ugly then, I had me some gorgeous boyfriends. Tall, fair skin, sharp nose, deep set eyes, defined jawline and perfect teeth. What did they see it in me then?
I guess I am now just butt-uglier that it is a lost cause.
I am in awe when there are people who told me that I am pretty when I do believe that I have unflattering angles. These days I am like Mariah Carey, I will only be photographed from the left side of my face. The left side seems to have a more defined face shape while the right side showed an unflattering round cheeks that swallowed my eyes and nose.

I work hard to show the world that I am pretty -- with all that I've got, the make up, the lighting, the pose, the best angle, the long eyelashes that I naturally have, the threaded eyebrows and hair that when I had it long, most people suggested me to auditioned for Pantene ads.
So when someone posted or tagged a photo of me at what I deemed my ugliest, it's all God's wrath sort of thing. Don't. I hate you. Even I don't do it to myself, why would I let others? Painstakingly I combed through every detail before I post a picture of me, of what I deemed the most pleasant that at least the virtual community could endure. The operative word is 'painstaking' -- which means it's a lot of work so better understand where I'm coming from if I don't want it on my timeline after you tagged me.

Then again, when I look back at the approved selfies posted or used as the avi for various social sites, I hated it. Yeah, I was balking, "What the hell was I thinking? Euch! Yuck!"
These days I am depressed about putting on weight. I hate it that I am reaching a man's weight. I hate that my pants are feeling much more tighter. A real fuck you feeling not in a good way, ever.

I don't know. It's a pure self-hatred day today.

Monday, July 15, 2013

Replacement

"You forgot that you're not on your turf. No homeboys gonna back you up nor your mum saving your ass."

Adam looked away from Arissa although he knows it that she's right. He's so used being guarded and protected while he runs his plan whenever situations arised but this time, like Arissa said, they're not on his turf.

Changing the subject and not letting himself being beat down by a girl especially Arissa, he retorted, "That huge pimple is killing you, huh?"

Arissa has been meddling with a pimple on her right cheek. She keeps touching it with a wet tissue, slowly applying pressure and alternately pinching it.

"Yeah. I can't wait for it to pop. It won't pop, it drives me nuts and I can't forget about it."

"Why don't you just leave it, it'll either be ready to pop or it'll disappear," Adam, always wanting to be the better of the two, especially when with Arissa.

"I don't want to leave it!" Arissa whines, putting pressure on the said pimple.

"Why? If you pushed it, it'll leave a scar."

"No, it won't. Once it's popped, it'll dried up and then the dried skin will fall off. It won't leave any scar if you waited for the dry skin to fall off, just a brand new skin replacing it.
Not like the heart -- the heart is irreplaceable. You have it new and then used, broken, battered and scarred. You still have to use that same heart again. You could never feel brand new after all the heartaches, because you can't get a replacement."