Coke or Pepsi?

I’ve always been a diet Coke drinker. Pepsi? NEVER. But because of the never dropping price of 12-pack diet Coke, I decided to drink Pepsi for a little bit.

My reaction? Really, it’s not so bad, I can hardly remember why I disliked it so much in the first place. But it’s just not Coke. Habit is a powerful force I suppose.

P.S. what a pointless post 🙂



Designer bags are like beautiful lies, everyone thinks the piece she owns is perfect, one of a kind, wonderful like a fairy tale. It is well-made, able to stand trial, and wrapped in sweet promotional slogans; yet it all begins from a lie. A Louis Vuitton bag takes only three hours to make, but it’s sold for a 13x profit.

Just like love.

Of course, to women, it is always worthwhile to own a designer bag, because every bag has a logo that draws attention. We tell ourselves it’s not because of the logo that we buy the bag, the bag comes from a brand with a rich history, it is high quality and multi-functional, etc etc. But in the end, we want that authentic Chanel/Gucci/Fendi logo; we are paying for the pride, the way other women turn their heads to look when we walk past, the way strangers whisper to each other wondering if it is real or not.

Just as every woman wants a handsome significant other, because when she walks on the street holding his hand, she wants the jealous glances and the naked desires to steam from the eyes of others; she wants to declare to the world that she is capable of taking ownership of someone beautiful, as if that raises her own value and worth.

Women are insecure. Is there actually a woman in this world who truly believes that she is beautiful? We read everywhere that as a member of the female gender, we should love ourselves, no matter how we look or how we are shaped. But in our hearts, can we say without a doubt that we are absolutely beautiful, gorgeous, amazing in our own way? I sure can’t. I’m often thwarted by images of thin, pretty women in movies, on TV, in ads, even in real life. I often feel that I don’t measure up to my society’s standards.

(please excuse my following bluntness) We all have our insecurities: ugly girls wish to be beautiful, fat girls wish to be thin, short girls wish to be tall; and in that exact same universe, tall girls want to lose a couple inches, thin girls wish they have some meat on their bones, beautiful girls wish to be more average looking so sleazy guys would stop hitting on them. Everyone has insecurities, Everyone.

This is why women love designer brands, because they are surreal, perfect, and symbolically lasts forever. They are things we imagine, dream about, wish for; they fill those insecurities with satisfaction and content.

Again, just like love.

When we are in love, everything is wonderful. The sun shines brighter, the sky is bluer, the crickets chirp in the most rhythmic pattern. Love is what makes the world go around, it fills our deepest insecurities, because to the him in our hearts, we are not too fat or too thin or not pretty enough; we are perfect. I dare say that every girl, once upon a time, believed in this definition of love. She also believed that love would last forever, until a boy comes along, steals her heart, and smashes it to pieces.

At that point, everything is broken, just like when the stitching of a designer bag unexpectedly falls apart. The magic is suddenly undone, and we realize that this bag is not all that special, it’s not the most well-made or the most functional. It was only precious because we were tricked into believing it is worthwhile. There is no happy ending because even in the beginning, it was just a lie.

Yes, designer bag is a lie. Love is a lie. But I have not yet had a broken bag or a broken heart, so I choose to believe in the lie.

best video ever

A break from the 30-day blog challenge:


Today, the women at Lydia’s House had a career event to attend, so I went to help with child care. The girl who caught my eye was Cedria, who was sitting quietly at a table, coloring on a piece of notebook paper while all the other kids are screaming and rolling on the floor and refusing to settle down. She was also the oldest of all the children – she looked like a 5th grader while the others were babies or in pre-school. I sat down next to her and asked her what she was drawing. “Lollipop,” she said in a sweet, timid voice, and used her fingers to outline the lollipop for me. I watched as she colored the background of the lollipop in complementary colors, producing a quite stunning piece of artwork. She then proceeded to color in the background of another lollipop drawing.

With children screaming at each other to my left because they couldn’t figure out how to put together the puzzle to and a little one trying to push a little trailer up my chair to my right, I couldn’t help but find peace in this girl sitting quietly across from me. She seemed very much unbothered by the noise and continued to color as if she was working on her masterpiece. When she was done coloring, she handed one of her papers to me – to show me, I presumed. It was a beautiful picture of a girl (herself, I believe) jump roping under the sun and rainbow. “It’s beautiful,” I told her, “where would you like to put this?” “It’s for you.”

I recall being a little shocked when she said that. I just didn’t expect her to offer a drawing that she worked so hard on to me. She then proceeded to give one drawing to each of the two staff members who were also there taking care of the kids. Maybe she just wanted someone to see her art, but somehow, I think that was her way of saying thank you.

During lunch time, the children ate cut-up hot dogs and crackers/cookies (I was sad about the lack of vegetables), and Cedria was a little busy bee. She was squeezing hand sanitizer out of the bottle for everyone, then handing out plates and ketchup. Now, she wasn’t like one of those children who was helpful yet loud and obnoxious. Cedria was quiet and reserved, but she was helpful, and she was looking after the other children at her table. It was a great deal to me because in the back of my mind, I kept on thinking that, wow, this girl is really going to be something when she grows up.

When I had to leave, I thanked Cedria for her drawing, and promised that I’ll put it up in my room – and it is.

here we are again

So I’ve decided to make use of this blog. again. for the n-th time. I don’t know if it’s going to stick this time around, but I’ll try. What do I want this blog to be? I honestly have no clue…my life? beliefs? interests? I don’t know. What I know is that at this point in my life, I love many different things – science, fashion, service, friendship, family, and many many more, and I want to talk about them. I don’t intend on sharing this blog with the world – I have finally understood that popularity is not equivalent to happiness, it simply brings on stress to the point that I no longer remember why I was doing it.

I suppose then, this is really a blog just for myself. I’m okay with that.