Idiosyncrasies

When Greenhills Club Coordinator Peewee asked if I wanted to model fitness attire during the Greenhills Anniv/Grand Cycling Marathon, I said yes thinking we’d just walk around the venue so bystanders can see the clothes available at the booth.

When I got to Greenhills for rehearsals/fitting, I discovered several things that sent me into a tailspin…

Muy terrible realization #1:  that it was a FASHION SHOW, and I’d actually have to WALK - not just walk-walk, WALK girly. The couldn’t have chosen a worse candidate! Luckily, I wasn’t in it alone, Irene was there and we both walk the same way. harhar!

Que horror realization #2: it wasn’t just walking…we’d have to pose sexy and ’seduce’ our  male  partners. Again, wrong person…I can’t even flirt to save my life!

Que barbaridad realization #3 (as if things couldn’t get any worse): during the last part, we’d be clad in bikinis. My jaw dropped open as the letters P-A-N-I-C flashed in my mind in bright bold red letters (complete with siren sound effects, mind you. I still think prod somehow, thankyouverymuch!).

To solve muy terrible realization #1, Irene and I were taught how to walk like models (kuno). The coach had to set her knee up on Irene’s back and pull on her shoulders hard so that she’d get the feeling of how straight she was supposed to be. Chin up, shoulders steady, chest out, arms and hips swaying as you try to walk in a straight line (one foot in front of the other). Gawd that was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do this year. I didn’t know where to put my butt and hips. Hahaha! Talk about awkward! I’d rather hold the warrior II pose than walk that way. Geez, come to think of it I’d rather do sprint drills than walk like that! But still, twas an experience.

Getting over que horror realization #2 was tougher. Good thing the Lord does not give challenges He thinks we cannot handle. Lucky for me, my partner was gay. Obviously, I’m comfy around gay men so that was a big help. He came up with how I’d move and what I’d do to him (since I wasn’t much help with coming up with sexy moves hahaha). Here’s what he came up with: I’d do some sexy body wave and slap my butt (ewww) and give him a come hither look. When we got to the edge of the stage, he’d pull me closer by my hips and I was supposed to run my hands down his body and push  him away by the time I got to his hips.

Lastly, que barbaridad realization #3 - And I was supposed to do the abovementioned while I was in a bikini, and he was in trunks. Putik!! Pass the tequila!!! We were told that we would be covered in body paint and nobody would recognize us, so that made us feel okay with the whole idea. But when the fateful day rolled in, we discovered we wouldn’t even be covered in body paint! They used acrylic paint to draw some little symbol on our cheeks and some flowers across the waist. That was it. Meeehhhnnn. Sure, like no one would recognize us huh? If only people were really that blind, as blind as those in the Superhero comic books and tv shows (couldn’t they tell that Clark Kent and superman looked alike?!)

That night, we were supposed to start by 8:30pm and finish in ten minutes or so. But noooo, we started at 11:00pm. The long wait took its toll on Irene (she gets grumpy when she’s sleepy) - she was pouting since she had a 6:30am class in Greenhills the very next day (the girl lives in Bambang, Manila. One can’t blame her for feeling that way). Luckily, being made up and dabbed with bronzers and other shiny shimmery stuff seemed to cheer her up and she was in a lighter mood after a few hours.

Things didn’t exactly go according to plan, but one must always be prepared for Murphy when he chooses to strike. But I think things turned out great. At least I didn’t get into the Carrie (Sex and the City) moment when she did a face-plant on the catwalk.

The only downer was that someone stole my outfit. I felt really bad about that. Our ‘talent fee’ was that we would get to keep a halter top and white pants. Perfect for yoga class. I laid mine down beside my bag. I did a 180-degree turn to face my locker to get a plastic bag to put it in. When I faced my things again, my clothes were gone. So was the other bag on the far end of the bench. The vexing thing is…I know who the bag belonged to. And she had been getting on our nerves the entire night (if I put everything here it would be a very, very long entry). I didn’t want to accuse so I kept quiet. But she was the only other one around, and she was the only one who left in a hurry. What was I supposed to think?

Sigh. So much for keepsakes.

In retrospect, at least I can walk a bit more girly now. But it still requires gargantuan effort.

Oh and one more thing that really, really made me smile: friends who came all the way to Greenhills to see me and Irene in our several minutes of ultimate femininity (teeheehee). Hans and Inno stayed with us the whole time, and Chichi  (who was already resting at home in Guadalupe) managed to make it by the time we started - and that was already pretty late. Josh on the other hand (who goes home all the way to Rizal!) showed up too, and even though he missed our part, it was great to know that he went there and hung out with us afterwards (even though he received a call from the office). I love you guys, you’re the best

I’ve always had two left feet. I started attending this dance class
called body jam (in the gym) because I wanted to improve my footwork
and coordination for football (yes I’m starting to realize just how
much football affects my decisions…but somehow I get so caught up in
the challenges these new activities pose  that I end up forgetting it
was football that got me into them in the first place!)

The class became such a challenge. I wanted to know I could do it
(leave the grace out of it, I just wanted to know there was a chance
that I could participate and not make a complete and total fool of
myself). It was my chance to face my fears and work on what I know I
suck at.  Since Body Jam involves choreography that is repeated over a
span of four weeks or so… you have time to get the hang of the
moves… so it kinda feels like you’re a work in progress. It’s quite
comforting, actually.

The funny thing is, I have more fun on the gym dance floor than the
club dance floor - perhaps it’s because dancing in the club is supposed
to be a fun way of expressing yourself (and since I don’t really know
the ‘moves’ I’d rather stick to something choreographed haha).

Okay so dancing has always been my waterloo (just like math - but at
least being bad at math had no effect on my ‘femininity’) and although
I’d always be asked to sing at school assemblies in the past, I
wondered what it would feel like to be invited to dance for a change. I
dunno if I should have wished for that…

Tita Lorna recently asked some people (including me) to to help out
with her campaign by dancing. She asked well-known, well-loved jam
instructors to help her out. And then there’s me who’s none of the
above (I do balance, not jam, and gosh I think I stick out like a sore
thumb).

We practiced one track with different blocking and aside from having to
reverse what I know (instructors lead with the left foot, whereas
participants start with the right)… I realized not only did I still
suck bigtime… I’m still not feminine. Oh boy.

The number opens with all the girls (Macel, Joella and me) walking,
pivoting and making pa-cute. Joella and Macel are VERY graceful and
they know how to strut their stuff. I, on the other hand, do not. Even
Jeff (who teaches combat aside from Jam) is more graceful than I will
ever be. And his grace is macho. I’m just..well…macho-stiff. Heck,
I’d settle for graceful macho, sure why not?

Mental note 1: knowing the moves won’t make you graceful. knowing the
moves just assures you of not bumping into the person next to
you…provided they know what they’re doing, too.

Mental note 2: ah… now I remember why I love football… it doesn’t
matter that I’m not feminine, and bumping into others is good if you
can make them fly! (which I used to do very well…hehe.)

Sir Arnold was trying to help me by giving me tips to guide my movement… "Feel like you’re walking with heels…"

Mental note 3: look for heels and start wearing them again (I remember
Raven and Kenn staring at my slippers, saying, "THAT’s what you wore to
work?!")

Mental note 4: Thank goodness everyone’s patient and nice.

Mental note 5: Perhaps I’ve been wired for male roles! Hahaha. Back in
the all-girls-school-days, in ballroom dancing class, I’d always be
assigned the boy parts… I was *never* the girl…

Jace demonstrated what I was doing… meeehn. I’m like… one notch
down from Ian’s macho dancing daw.  At least Ian’s a boy!!! I have a
LOT of work to do. Lord help *me*.

Oh wait. Jace said he’d help me out with the being graceful bit…

Lord help *him*

Hahaha.