secondhand-mermaid

8.8.15

model rice bowl

☝14:59☝

-my rice bowl situation-

There's a saying in Chinese

'爭飯碗' / '搶飯碗'

Directly translated it means to 'fight for rice bowl'

IRL situation translation:

rice bowl = job

my job interview struggles aren't the most common.

during my job interviews

unlike most,

I'm not getting judge on my education,

my qualifications,

my experience,

my certificates,

my expertise.

I'm getting judged based on my looks.

and of course I'm not complaining,

I knew what I signed on to entering this business.

I'm nobody important,

so what I can say or do is equally

unimportant.

Especially during my job interviews.

hang on, i need to stop calling them job interviews

as the official name is 'castings'

☝15:05☝

-attaining rice bowl percentage dwindling in front of me....-

ಥ_ಥ

too many mouths,

not enough bowls.

and

we're all pretty fucking hungry.

similar to actors who go on auditions but i feel models get it worse.

i think it's way more superficial than acting auditions.

because unless it's a casting for a TVC (TV commercial)

we don't really need to act.

and even when we do, the acting is so over the top.

it's pretend to enjoy this burger

pretend to ride this roller coaster which is a casting chair.

so there really isn't much skill to it...

as long as you're willing to put yourself out there,

you'll survive the traumatising, embarrassing TVC casting.

if they don't like your face you won't get it,

but hey,

at least someone

somewhere

watched your tape and had a good laugh at how AWFUL your pretend eating was.

we have zero qualifications for what we do.

there is no degree in posing.

no certificate for smiling.

we get judged based on our smiles,

our posing,

our skin,

our height,

our DNA.

in a way,

i think that when i don't book a job,

my parents/ancestors may be feeling the blame.

'IT WAS BECAUSE OF US THAT YOU DIDN'T BOOK IT HONEY!'

'It's okay, you'll book the next one.'

'We still love you.'

no matter how many episodes of ANTM you've watched,

I honestly believe

that personality plays a very minor role in castings.

come on,

how much personality can you share in 5 minutes

without coming across overly confident, conceited and mildly self centred?

"ME! ME! Talk to me, see how easy going I am!!!!

Book me! Book me! I'm all personality!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

If they like what they see,

if they approve of your DNA

you get the job, the campaign, the tvc, the money.

If they don't,

maybe next time.

but probably not at the same company,

at least

until they've changed whoever is in charge.

until you've become moderately famous.

if you're lucky,

maybe all you have to do is dye your hair.

Smile for that bowl, baby.

22.7.15

write something | image

if you've watched my video

'My Vision Board'

you'll know that I've made a pact with myself to be more creative

to write more

to DO more.

shit,

I think I may be watching too many Casey Neistat vlogs...

today/night i want to talk about self image.

i don't think i'm going to come to any sort of conclusion at the end of this post

but i just really want to write something.

like most people i think i'm pretty self conscious.

and it differs depending on the situation.

sometimes i can not give a f*ck about any image

but then sometimes i need to comb my hair, take of my glasses and slab some eyebrows on

before i head downstairs to the supermarket.

i remember when i had a crush and we would skype

and before i was ready to turn on my camera to chat

i would whip out my hair straightener, fix my fringe, adjust proper desktop lighting

to hopefully give my makeup less, sleep less teenage complexion a fighting chance.

even for youtube videos,

before i hit record i contemplate

MAKEUP OR NO MAKEUP

CAN I BE BOTHERED TODAY

usually, i can't.

lol

so what the hell am i talking about?

okkok,

i think i'm trying to say is that

i have days when i don't feel like i look my best

...

....

like right now

☟

but i embrace days like this.

not giving a rats asssssss.

feels good to be all mucky,

a comb? whats that?

wash my face? why?

dark circles? never looked better.

it's like if i ever got a text from someone asking

' hey baby, what you doing? ;) '

i think it would go down something like this:

hey!

nothing much,

just chilling at home, updating my blog.

sup?

cool. i'm good. what you wearing? ;)

my lazy homer shirt, boxers.

glasses too and i haven't washed my hair in awhile lol

oh... um... okay...

then um, what are you not wearing? ;)

you mean a bra? yeah fuck that thing.

best part of being home is that i don't have to wear one.

do you know how uncomfortable they are?

so jealous of guys with man boobies

cos they don't need the extra support of a bra.

if you ever come across a bra,

i highly suggest you try one on sometime.

- user is offline -

hello?

this blog got weird too fast too soon.

16.7.15

one

An hour or maybe two passed.

After dropping many hints to Jennah that she was overstaying her welcome, Jennah finally bid her farewells.

It wasn't that she didn't like Jennah. Jennah can be great fun. There are just some people in the world that she would prefer to implement a 'less is more' quality control during meet ups.

There was always a limit to how much she could withstand when it came to friends and the relationship that comes with it. Every now and again she would look back at how much her priorities have changed since she was younger. Friendship used to be number one, even above family. Not the least bit shocking as most self loathing teenagers probably felt the same way.

But not anymore. That self loathing teenager has since rejoiced at her freedom away from her old classroom and those mandatory friendships required to complete group projects with.

She felt that she had grown into a society-approved, government-tolerated, seemingly well rounded, emotionally healthy (stable), functioning adult that was completely okay with being by herself.

One is a good number.

Yes yes yes, friendship is great in small doses. Lovely, fragile glass tubes of rainbow coloured butterflies and glitter on a good day.

Too much of it then it's all over the brim, spilling onto your hands and splattering onto your favourite shirt. All the while having to reassure the rainbow coloured butterfly that it's okay, you never liked the shirt anyway and you'd love to meet up next Tuesday for dinner.