Besides doing a couple of songs here and there from Lady Gaga and Nicki Minaj (of course), I’ve been trying to stick with a theme of songs which I use to adore in the late 90′s, early ’00s. During this fantastic time, it was the beginning of my teenage years. The pop and r&b songs I enjoyed were probably equivalent to currents songs people find horrifying today, but they were special to me and frankly, I didn’t give any fucks when I cranked the volume up to the maximum every time I heard them play on the radio.

10. Show Me Love by Robyn
This was practically the song I wanted to cry sing to the boy I loved even though he never really knew I existed in typing class. It’s slow, nice, and…pathetic, but it was pure genius when I was 13. Also, Robyn’s back in the music biz and she was touring with Katy Perry. In’t something or what? Forrow your dreams!

9. He Loves U Not by Dream
This song’s about girls hating on other girls, ’cause of a dude, and retarded stuff. Regardless, it was my 8th grade anthem and it kicked ass every time I played it over and over again after downloading it off of Napster. If I recalled correctly, this is probably one of the first groups Diddy created and the first group he fucked over pretty fast, so I think they deserve a little recognition here, even as little as singing their song in a karaoke room.

8. Bring it All to Me by Blaque
I thought Blaque was one of the most creative, fitting and sophisticated name anyone can ever think of for a music group consisting of blaque women. That is, to also say that I thought they were the most beautiful creatures to ever walked the earth, they were goddesses to me. This particular song was, simply put, sexy and cool, and that’s how exactly I felt whenever I sang along with it.

7. Playas Gon’ Play by 3LW
I’m not sure if people realize this but THIS song is really important to the internet. I believe, had this song never came out, we would never had the awesome and highly popularized meme that has been used over a thousand times, “HATES GONNA HATE“. As for the song, the rapping part always has sounded pretty lame to me.

6. Let Me Blow ya Mind by Even ft. Gwen Stefani
Does this really need an explanation? Next.

5. It’s Over Now by 112
I think they were more known for their Peaches N Cream song, but this one’s way more karaoke-friendly and it was just a badass breakup song overall. 112 was one of my favorite male r&b group, and they definitely created some pretty memorable music. Oh yeah, and that one guy who sings like a girl? That was cool too.

4.The Boy is Mine by Brandy and Monica
The DRAMA in these cheesy-filled lyrics! As a teen, I would say that nothing is more fun than singing this The Boy is MINE while pretending to be an attractive woman fighting with another attractive woman over the same douchebag boyfriend. Plus, I’m sure this song would be entertaining for karaoke because another person can join in. One’s Brandy and the other Monica. Let the bitchfight ensue.

3. I Want You to Want Me by Letters to Cleo
The only reason I know this song is because of the movie “10 Things I Hate About You”. I fell in love with this band as soon as I heard the singer’s voice because it sounded so fun and-and so incredibly attractive. I would totally see one of their shows if they’re still performing.

2. Sk8er Boi by Avril Lavigne
Before you decide to throw rocks at my face, I never liked Avril. I never liked the spelling of the song. And I never liked her goddam ties. But this song was, unfortunately, a sad and dark guilty pleasure of mine. My voice sounded oddly border-line nice for once when I belted it while taking a shower, thus any song that can make my voice sound good gets my stamp of approval. And what?

1. Hot Boyz by Missy Elliot
This is still one of my favorite songs to this day. The beat is “sick” (did I use that right?), Missy Elliot’s singing voice is dead sexy, Nas and Eve’s part were also pretty “tight” (how about that?). It’s really just has the perfect recipe for a great karaoke song, hands down. If you don’t believe me then try to rap/sing along with it and then tell me you DON’T feel like a supa dupa fly ass sexy motherfucker?

"Sigh...what is the meaning of life? Or sitting on this dirty step looking fierce as hell?"

Taken exactly 10 years ago:

Tongue slightly sticking out, uber cool duckface, and a photoshopped nose...what more can you possibly want from teenage Tiff?

^_^

*FLASHBACK MODE!!*

So I’m three years old, right? It was early Saturday morning and I looked out the window of my kitchen and noticed what it seems to be like a huge mountain of clothes stacked on flat sheets of cardboard, and strangers were looking through them. As a kid, this really freaked me out. I didn’t know what was happening. All I knew was, if anything’s going to be in your driveway besides a car,  it better be a turd or dead roots sprouting out of the cracks or something–anything, but a pile of clothes and unfamiliar faces.

My dad was outside interacting with them so this gave me a bit of courage to walk out there and see what exactly was going on. I remember slowly walking outside but was unable to contain the embarrassment that was obviously displayed on my face. As I took a couple of more steps I noticed my dad was exchanging money between these people, so I started to understand that he owned some kind of a front yard mini store. When I finally approached his “store”, I began to discreetly scan the items and clothing. OK lots of clothes here. Mom’s got a lot of her dresses laying out here, hm should I run back to the house and tell her? Wouldn’t she be sad if these strangers were to take it? What about these plants? There’s the old boombox, whatever. Oh hey, there’s my Baby Sinclair toy–WAIT WHY IS IT OUT HERE!?!?

When I was little, I was a really big fan of the TV series, Dinosaurs. My favorite character from the show was Baby Sinclair, and I had a really awesome toy of it from McDonalds. This toy was unbelievable to me back then; it had a button at the end of a long hallow tube it was attached to and when you pressed it the legs of Baby Sinclair would kick back and forth. Magnificent. This toy was, however, was found in a cardboard box at my dad’s yard sale.

Sorry baby, I shouldn't have let you go.

Lord, that feeling as a kid when you realize your dad took something precious away from you only so he can get some money out of it. I was confused, hurt and betrayed. It almost felt like someone ripped my heart out, farted on it, and used it to play a game of soccer. The worse part about this is I didn’t have the guts to take it back. Since yard sales were so foreign to me, I didn’t know what to do! I thought that taking it out of the box and running back to the house would be considered shoplifting. So, I ended up standing outside near the toy until someone bought Baby Sinclair. And someone did, in fact, I think they just took it without paying. It was some boy around my age at the time who grabbed Baby and ran to his parent’s car with it. That brat.

Ever since that little incident happened…and for many many years growing up in his household, I’ve been frantically running out of the house with my PJs (and possibly holding a strip of bacon) every time I hear that my dad is throwing a yard sale because he’d always have at least one item of mine that, to me, is priceless.

2. My first physical fight happened when I was six years old. My opponent, Michelle Tran, and I both wore adult sized boxing gloves. My memory of the incident is still clear as day. I remember the people who were watching and rooting for us (my older siblings and mostly our neighborhood gangbangers who made us duke it out), I remember where the punches were thrown, and unfortunately, I remember that I lost.

3. When I was four, my older sister thought it was funny to joke around by pretending to suck my brother into our vacuum. Since I thought what I had witnessed was real, it lead to my intense fear of vacuums that lasted for over ten years.

4. I had a pet African Grey Parrot named Ruby. I loved her! She would say a lot of things, even weird things, things that were never taught to her such as, “help meee!” She also liked making noises that sounded like she was coughing up a loogie (I have brothers). Ruby had a near death experience when I, accidentally, chopped her finger tip off with a nail clipper (I was cutting her nails and ended up going too far). She lost a lot of blood and her cage ended up looking like a brutal murder scene. I felt bad and her piercing bird-scream still haunts me to this day.

5. One of my earliest Internet friends was Jenalyn, whom I met on an networking website for kids called Freezone. When we were little, we both started making websites that is no different than my website today. All of the layouts were created using photoshop, and it also had an online diary, which is now called a blog. We met, literally, a decade ago, and we still keep in touch sometimes (via Myspace), and you have no idea how grateful I am for that.

6. The first zombie film I ever watched was “Night of the Living Dead” at the age of four or five, and I’ve been fascinated with zombies ever since. Prior to that, I had the proclivity to reenact the scene in Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” where the chick runs to the abandon house and frantically shoves the furniture in front of the doors and windows, but only to find that it was no good when the zombies started crashing in. That has always been my favorite part. Epic.

7. In 1997 I founded The Dolphin Club, and in 1998 I co-founded The ‘N Sync Club which had a whopping total of two committed members.

8. Five years ago. Favorite haircut:

9. Five years ago. That haircut was forever destroyed by cutting it into a nasty mullet (thought it was a good idea at the time):

10. The very first time I said “fuck” was around the age of four. I was overhearing an action movie my sister was watching that had a lot of “fucks” and “fucking” in it. Funny thing is, that paricular word caught my interest, and even though I had practically no idea what it meant, it had given me the idea to yell, “Fuck my dad and fuck you!” during the film. When my sister heard it she shrieked and asked, “What did you say?!!?” And at that very moment I knew it was a word not to disclose in front of the adults, but rather to share with my classmates.

It was the summer of 1996, a 99 Cent Store had finally opened for the first time around our area, which was a big deal for most of us, as decent houseware appliances selling only for a buck seemed too good to be true. I went to the new store with my two older sisters, and one of them, Diane, told me that I could have anything I wanted there. I was thrilled! And I was ready to shop.

When we arrived, I first remembered seeing how outrageously packed the place was, and how awesome and cartoony their shopping carts looked. Their carts weren’t like any other shopping carts you’d see in grocery stores where it’s all metal and banged up with rust. The ones at the 99 Cent store were made of plastic and were bright blue. I wanted to take one of them home with me so I can use it as my pretend car from the future, but that didn’t happen.

The overwhelming number of customers there made it difficult for me to look around, so my sister pointed at the journal section and suggested that I get one to write in it. I declined, but she coerced me into picking one. So I selected the journal that had a cover of a butterfly sitting on top of a purple flower. After my sister had bought the item for me she told me I had to write in it, at least once a week, and then I remember her saying, “You’ll thank me for this when you get older.”

And you know what? She’s right. She’s absolutely right. It’s just…I don’t know. Haha. The feeling you get when you read your own private writings from 12 years ago is purely indescribable.

I’ve been reading that journal I got from 99 Cent, and you know, it was pretty intense for a third grader.

I talked about my love and hate relationships:

If you can’t read my eight-year-old handwriting, it says:

Sept. 17, 1996 I have a crush on Shon. And he was in my class. But I never talk to him or play with him. But I wish I sit next with him.

It was later crossed out in darker ink, and under the entry it says, in the same dark ink:

Oct. 26. 1996 not any more

Foes:

I didn’t like one of the girls at my school, so I drew her as a slimy Medusa.  Those are snakes, btw.

Obligatory censorship:

And finally, my discovery of the online word usage “LOL”  in 2001:

My spelling has improved huh? (LOL) (LOL means)= Laugh Out Loud) Got it from chatting!

Man, I am so motivated to write in a journal again. Plus the 40-year-old me can go back and read it and say, “Man, that 21-year-old me, what a hoot!”

I wouldn’t mind wearing braces right now actually (Visaline is too expensive). I really liked it as a teenager. The pain felt quite nice (I know, I’m a creep!).

The only thing I hated about it, is that, when I would talk to strangers, they would usually bring up the topic of braces, asking if it’d hurt and stuff, which is fine, but they’d also ask, “Why do you need braces for? You don’t need them.”

Can you believe that shit? I usually say, “I ono” because giving them an honest answer might make them think that I’m trying to be a smartass.

“Because braces make your teeth straight…um yeah.”

When she realized I was the next customer to order, she looked at me and gave me this rickety, awkward smile.  It wasn’t a surprise to me because I knew she’d remember who I was.  The times that I was bullied by her was so long ago that I was completely over it, we were over it, however it wasn’t old enough to erase each other out of our memories, so it made a terrible awkward situation between the girl and I.

As she was taking my order, I kept on thinking, at the back of my head, if I should ask, “Hey how are you? It’s been a while!” since she knew who exactly I was, but I decided not to anyway and imagined as if I never knew her.  When you start talking to someone that you haven’t seen in a long time, usually you end up talking about the past, because that’s the only memory you have of that person.

I didn’t want make the awkward situation even more awkward by saying something like, “Hey remember when you use to make my life a living hell? Haha yeah, that was, uh, great.”

After I got my food and went home, I thought about the other bullies in the past.  It’s so funny, I never had that one main bully, I had different bullies for different things.  The one that I was talking about teased me for my weight, I was really skinny back then, and she was well, fat, and still fat today.

The first bully I ever had was a kid named… Billy or Jimmy. I think.  This was in first grade.  He sat next to me in class, and everyday he use to unzip his fly to show me his little penis.  I fucking hated it and I felt harassed.  He once picked a shit load of his boogers and wiped it on my chair, in which I sat on.  My mom once bought me this cool Lisa Frank folder that had unicorns on it and when I wasn’t at my desk, he took it and fold it all the way so that it would have huge wrinkles on them.  My mom doesn’t have a lot of money, and for her to buy that folder was really appreciating.  I fucking hate that guy.

The second bully, Courtney, made fun of my clothes all the time because I never matched.  I STILL don’t match my clothes, so fuck you Courtney.

The third bully was AJ.  He was actually my very first crush, but obviously, he never liked me.  We lived on the same streets and so he knew what my house looked like.  He loved making fun of my house because he thought it looked shitty.

And then on to middle school, there were these two boys that sexually harassed me.  They were in my woodshop class and they kept on grabbing my ass and other bad things.  I tried to tell the teacher but he never listened.  But you know what’s awesome? Years later one of them found me on Myspace and tried to hit on me, and he didn’t remember who I was.  A year later, the OTHER guy bumped into me when I was in college, he didn’t know who I was either, he also found me attractive so he was trying to flirt with me but I treated him pretty badly. Ah, sweet, sweet revenge.

The next asshole made fun of me for my flat chest.  He was the reason why I became so insecure about my breasts that I began to stuff my bra all the way to my junior year of high school.  They never really grew that much, but now, I really don’t care anymore.  I actually love my size and would never, ever go any bigger.

The next one was the WORST of the WORST of all bullies, the queen bee of fucking bullying, Mary.  Mary was one the most popular girl in school and she was liked by many.  She was very involved with the school, like, I think she was the president of ASB or something like that.  Essentially, she was excellent in everything…yet so evil and manipulative. Anyway, she had a huge circle of girlfriends, I was one of them, more like a follower though, but yeah she accepted me.

She hated this girl named Esther.  Esther and I became close friends, because she was the only one that would actually talked to me and listened.  She told me about the problems that Mary was giving her.  I listened, but really never said anything, because I told her that it was between her and Mary.

When Mary had found out that I was talking to Esther, she assumed I was talking behind her back, so she told all of her circle of friends that I was a traitor.  Her friends, who use to be my friends too, all gave me shit for it.  They ignored me when I tried to say “hi” to them, they looked at me with an evil eye, they would “accidentally” bump into me, and other things that evil teenage girls would do to belittle other girls.  Rosemary was their puppet master, anything she hates, they hate too. There was even a time when I was hanging out with the girls, she went up to them and said, “I found out the person who’s talking shit!” and then she pointed at me and said, “her.” And started laughing, and skipping away like the evil, evil person she is.

There’s more to it, if I wrote every single detail, you’d be staying up the whole night.  Basically, she had everyone turned their backs against me and made my middle school years awfully miserable.  She had the power to convince everybody that I was the bad person.  I had a plan to deck her in the face, but punching Mary would be like punching the whole school.  Everyone loved her.  I never did though.  She was NEVER alone; she always had her “circle” of friends, who acted as her bodyguards or something.  I guess it’s better that way.  Violence would never solve anything, but boy, it would feel pretty damn good to deck her pretty little face, at the time.

There’s a chance that she might read this.  I have some friends who read this blog, and some of them are friends with her.  But really, I don’t care.  I don’t even see her anymore, so the drama ain’t gonna happen this time. I heard she was really nice now, but sorry Mary, I had to write it anyway.  Bullying, especially from you, impacted my childhood and the way that I am today.

I left out a couple of other people who picked on me, but after writing THAT, it’s going to make them look more like a saint.

I also wanted to say that kids are evil as hell.  My nephew, whose only six years old, is already telling me that a boy is picking on him.  I’m pretty scared for my nephews and niece, and for my future kids too.  You can’t be there when it’s happening so you can only give them advice and hope that it’ll work.

Now that I’m trying to take on an acting career, I have to be consistent with one particular look (I have to look like the conventional Asian girl), and if you didn’t know, I’m actually half human half chameleon.

I’m somebody who needs to change and progress nearly every single day. I frequently change my themes on this site. I change the interior design in my bedroom.  I change friends all the time. I change guys that I date, etc etc (These are all upgrades, btw, tehee).

I just can’t stand keeping my things dead and stagnant.

My image, especially my hair, changes a lot and I love the fact that I’m able to reinvent every now and then. I just dyed it to all black yesterday and unfortunately, I have to keep this color for a long time, which makes me a little sad now that I can’t experiment on it anymore.

So in honor of my humbling hair history I’m going to post my hair timeline/collage.

Some good, some bad, but all Tiff.

The most awesomesauce guy I had ever met by far had high standards and never wanted to show an ounce of interest in me (a turn on, spankyouverymuch). I eventually completed my assignment by winning his heart because I had done the same to him.

But it didn’t end there, we continued to talk because everything about us just worked. One of the crucial things that made our DATING (he was not my boyfriend) relationship so thrilling, addictive and weird was our attitude of “I’m too good for him/her” towards each other. Both of us were “too good” to make the first move, or we were “too good” to divulge how we really felt about each other, so we’d actually wait for one of us to initiate some love-related shit (’cause you can only hold in so much). And when that did happen, it was always like a huge relief since we seldom open up. You know that feeling when you’re significant other holds your hands for the very first time? Yeah, it’s kind of like that. It’s nice.

I was discreetly working for his affection and attention while he was working for mine. And little by little, we were slowly opening up to each other. I really think that’s what kept our relationship together so interesting and unpredictable.

We don’t talk anymore, due to distance, but I’m sure we’ll meet again in the future.

But the bottom line is life is boring without having challenges and nothing good ever comes easy. =)