GIGI GOES GAGA

NOT JUST A JOB

I'm ready to get back to work full-time and so for now I'm back to the almost-daily grind of submitting resumes, filling out application forms, and (groan) interviewing.

Because I took a class in job hunting (yes, this was an actual, graded class that counted towards my college units) and because I spent almost 10 years of my career interviewing and hiring people to work for me, I know all the right things to say as well as the wrong things to do. But I've decided now to set most of what I know aside and just be honest.

Of course there are things I will always do: dress professionally for an interview, be prompt, bring a few copies of my resume, do my research about the company, and send a thank-you note to the interviewer(s) as soon as I leave the office. But this is all simple courtesy; I always keep in mind that it's also their time, not just mine.

I remember all the things that would make me decide not to hire someone. Perhaps the applicant was late to the interview, chewed gum (ewww), had absolutely no idea about the company or why she or he wanted to work there, looked down at the floor instead of me while we were chatting, or had absolutely no enthusiasm. Anyone who has ever worked for me still knows what I would look for: someone who sincerely wanted to work with our team and was looking for something more than a weekly (usually measly) paycheck. Someone who wanted to learn, grow, develop confidence, polish up their sales and customer service skills. I was always committed to providing all those opportunities as long as they were just as focused on having them.

So now I'm on the other end of the table; it's my turn to convince someone that I'm the best person for the job. But now that I know exactly what I'm looking for, I'm not merely thinking of the right thing to say or do.  I'm simply telling the truth. Yesterday, during a preliminary phone interview with the company recruiter, I told her that what motivates me is learning and growing as a professional and as a person, meeting challenges, doing my job well, and making a difference -- of knowing that my success directly contributes to my employer's as well. And in return, I was looking for a company that would provide me with the opportunity to do just that; one that would empower me, continue to challenge me, and reward me for all my hard work.

I'm on to Round Two of the process, and hopefully to the third and final one. And just as they're scrutinizing me closely and carefully to see if I'm the right fit for them, I'm doing the same. Both of us, after all, don't need to be wasting our time. I confessed to a friend the other night that I had no idea why someone would not want to hire me. Not because I'm the best or that I'm so freakin' amazing, but simply because when I commit to something -- someone, anything -- I'm happiest when I know that I've made a positive difference by doing so.

I'm not motivated by money -- now don't get me wrong, money's good especially when it allows me to live comfortably, even well, and it's important to be compensated fairly for the work I do. It's just that early on in my life, I learned that money alone didn't make me happy. If someone offered me a gazillion dollars today in exchange for a stressful job that didn't allow me to have an actual life, I would turn it down in a heartbeat. This I know for sure.

Life is too short. I don't care to just exist; I want to know that while I was here, the world somehow was better off for it.

THE PRESIDENTIAL PERSONALITY

I still haven't decided whom I would want to vote for in November -- not because I'm wishy-washy, but because I feel like I still don't have enough information to make a choice I'm completely comfortable with. I'll reveal this much, though: it will either be Clinton or Obama. Of course, I'm assuming that all goes well with my US citizenship interview next month and that the naturalization process moves along quickly enough so that I'll be waving my little American flag along with thousands of new citizens before the elections take place later this year.

Anyway, if I had to pick the very first time I ever get to vote in my life, it would be in this year's elections. I remember during my upper-division political science class in college, my professor -- an Oxford-educated political consultant -- stated with absolute conviction that the only thing you could count on if you were to predict who would be the next US president is that he would be white and male. Now, no longer. So you can only imagine that I would want nothing else than to take part in history-making.

So here's an interesting article I came across recently. Emily Yoffe of Slate Magazine applied a revision of the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator to classify the three leading presidential candidates into their personality categories: Hillary Clinton, Barack Obama, and John McCain. (She didn't do the same for Mike Huckabee because she refused to consider the possibility of a Huckabee presidency. Ditto.)

Here were her findings. I won't go into details here; you can read more about it here or listen to the NPR interview with Yoffe here.

Hillary Clinton is a Guardian, and her specific type is an ESTJ, also known as a "Supervisor."

Supervisors are, (psychologist David) Keirsey says, steadfast, cautious, methodical. They are the reliable, detail-oriented people without whom organizations and society fall apart—which is something ESTJs won't hesitate to point out. "[T]heir first instinct is to take charge and tell others what to do," says Keirsey. They are "devoted public servants, seeing their role in government … in almost sacred terms of self-sacrifice and service to others." This service is an obligation, not given "freely and joyously." As columnist Richard Cohen observed about Hillary, "Whether she meant to or not, she has presented herself as a model of caution, of experience hard-earned and not enjoyed. …"

Keirsey says Guardians' "self-esteem is greatest when they present themselves as dependable, trustworthy or accountable in shouldering their responsibilities." In other words, an ESTJ wants everyone to know she's "ready to be president on Day 1."

Barack Obama is an Idealist, and his specific type is an ENFP, also known as a "Champion."

ENFPs, says Keirsey, are "filled with conviction that they can easily motivate those around them." Champions work to "kindle, to rouse, to encourage, even to inspire those close to them with their enthusiasm." Idealists "usually have a tongue of silver" and are "gifted in seeing the possibilities" of institutions and people.

Furthermore:

Keirsey says Idealist leaders should be called catalysts because "[t]he individual who encounters such a leader is likely to be motivated, animated, even inspired to do his or her very best work." The New Yorker's Packer writes, "Obama offers himself as a catalyst by which disenchanted Americans can overcome two decades of vicious partisanship. …"

John McCain is an Artisan, and his specific type is an ESTP, also known as a "Promoter."

The ESTP is, according to Keirsey, "practical, optimistic, cynical, and focused on the here and now." If the ESTP portrait gives you a feeling of déjà vu, it's because George W. Bush is an ESTP, too. They are a common presidential type: Both Roosevelts, JFK, and LBJ were ESTPs. "Artisans need to be potent, to be felt as a strong presence and they want to affect the course of events," writes Keirsey. They hunger to "have a piece of the action," "to make something happen" whether "on the battlefield" or "in the political arena." So many politicians are Artisans because "politics allows not only for maneuvering, excitement, and risk—but for powerful social impact."

This is all highly riveting information, but may have little to do with my final decision-making process -- even if my own test results conclude that I am the exact personality type as Obama, together with only 2 percent of the population (I always knew I was a rare sort, haha).

Or who knows -- after all, personalities seem to play a greater role in voter preferences and decisions than political platforms, 'no?

SMILE!

Twice this week already customers have thanked me for simply smiling at them. This actually happens to me quite a bit but I'd never really given it much thought before. One incident in particular, however, still stays with me after all these years. I was working at the DKNY store in the Beverly Center and I greeted a beautiful, sophisticated customer as she slowly walked in. She looked around a little bit and before she left the store she came up to me and said softly, catching me by surprise:  "Thank you for your smile -- I really needed that today." When I looked into her eyes it appeared as if she were on the verge of tears. I felt a tiny choke in my throat.

I thought about the kind of day she must have had before she stopped in, hoping that nothing was seriously wrong in her life. Just as I had lifted her spirits, she had touched mine too, and after all this time I wonder if she's okay now.

This may surprise a lot of people I know, but I am actually pretty shy. Oftentimes I don't quite know how to approach someone, much less have any idea of what to say. The only thing that keeps me from coming off as aloof or indifferent is that I smile at people all the time -- so much so that an ex once confessed to me that he used to think I was an airhead before he got to know me because on campus, he said, I had a permanent grin on my face.

In a way, I've realized, my smile has been my armor all these years. I've hidden a lot of pain and hurt beneath it, even unbearable discomfort and deep insecurity. But it's also been my weapon: with it I've disarmed many who've been armored up as well. Now I find that at its most powerful, it's a simple gesture of kindness. There are so many folks out there who need to know that their existence means something, that their very presence is appreciated. And a smile in their direction says all that and so much more.

Sometimes, as I've found over and over again through the years, it's all you need in order to make a difference in someone's life. Including your very own.

A BEAUTIFUL DREAM

When I was about 10 or 11 my friend Mayette turned me on to the wonders of makeup. We'd pore over her older sisters' fashion magazines and play with their pots of paint and brushes. I was hooked instantly. The first thing I did when I traveled to Japan as a summer exchange student at age 12 was spend a portion of my modest allowance on a startlingly thick, heavy issue of Vogue Nippon, which I read over and over and kept for years. And although I didn't wear makeup often or regularly, I built up a small collection and played with various looks, copying new trends I spotted in magazines, in front of my bedroom mirror whenever I was alone.

I've been in love with makeup ever since. I still don't wear much of it in real life although these days I have a much larger collection -- which I still play with in front of my mirror when I'm alone. I'm absolutely thrilled when my friends ask me to do their faces for special occasions; when I'm staring down at them with brush in hand I'm as intensely serious as if I were getting paid for it. Nothing makes me happier than seeing someone break out a dazzling smile at the sight of her own (pretty) face. I even cry when I watch television makeover shows (not the ones that involve plastic surgery); I can't help it even if I know it's precisely what the producers want me to do. Too many women spend too much time looking for what's wrong with themselves when what's right is staring at them straight in the face.

My theory is that makeup artists have the best job in the world: how wonderful would it be to say that you make people look and feel beautiful for a living? I mean, I already do it happily for free, being able to do something you do well is a gift. Getting paid for it as well would only be an honor.

Many, many years ago, almost as soon as I arrived in LA, I met my sister's friend, an aspiring makeup artist at the time. Since then she's built up her name and reputation in the industry through her tremendous talent, steady and consistent work, unyielding professionalism, and perhaps a few lucky breaks (though all well-earned). Although I haven't seen her for so many years, I phoned her to do a quick interview for PINOYExpat's beauty issue. Introducing Jocelyn Zayco, a woman I admire for living her dream -- and who does so because she never gave up on it.

Q&A: PICTURE PERFECT

Pao asks:
"If ever I'm gonna take your photograph, would you like it to be in black and white? Or in full high-definition color? And why?"

I would definitely choose a black-and-white photograph -- no question about it. First, I think it would be more timeless; the color of my hair, makeup, and clothes would only date the portrait. Second, my cheeks get flushed really easily -- whenever I'm embarrassed, flustered, feeling warm, etc. -- and so I noticed that I always look like I'm wearing too much blush in color pictures even if I'm not wearing any. Third, I find that when I'm looking at a black-and-white shot, I seem to perceive the person's mood or personality more deeply. I'm extremely camera-shy and thus tend to be a quiet, low-key subject; I would completely disappear if there was a lot going on in the frame or if there were too many extraneous details.

Thanks Pao!

Q&A: SURPRISE!

Diana asks:
"What are the top 3 best surprises of your life?"

Diana once gave me one of the most surprising (shocking, actually) revelations of my life -- and for that I will always be grateful to her. Simply put, she saved me. The least I can do now is answer a simple question from her, though I must add this disclaimer: I remember the things that I do remember very well, but I forget mostly everything else. So here are three that still live in my memory, which can only mean they were among the best of my life, 'no?

1. My surprise despedida party. My bestfriend and her ex-boyfriend couldn't be in the same room without irritating the hell out of each other, but they (temporarily) set aside their differences and planned a proper send-off party for me. I was leaving to continue my studies in the U.S. and was more sad than excited, although I pretended to be nonchalant about the whole matter. Her ex took me out to a nice dinner and then said we had to swing by her place afterwards. It was the oddest request but either their ruse was spectacularly brilliant or I was simply braindead -- because I didn't suspect something was up. I had absolutely no idea that when she opened the door it was as if they had both ushered me into my very own "This Is Your Life" episode -- complete with friends I hadn't seen for years and even my high school crushes. When I think of home, I think of that room in her house that night.
2. An unexpected email. When a former great love of mine and I decided to part ways for good -- even as friends -- I closed the door to that chapter, even if it was impossible not to know what he was up to because I kept reading about him in the news. More than a decade later, I received a simple, short and sweet email from him: he had found my blog while doing a casual online search of my name and wanted to say hello. Despite the great distance of time and space between us we've discovered that few others still know us as we do of each other -- but that now it's become the basis of a great friendship instead of a passionate romance. And unlike our conversations of long ago, we now discuss horticulture and our health issues.
3. My first kiss. Completely unexpected but wholly welcome, my first kiss may not have been my best kiss, but at that moment I became -- at least according to life expert Ms. Spears -- "(no longer) a girl, not yet a woman."

Thanks Diana!

Q&A: MY LIFE IN 10 SONGS

Anna asks:
"hello!  i love the soundtrack sidebar.  i wonder: what songs would go into the soundtrack of your life?"

This has got to be the toughest question I've received yet; I could easily think of enough songs to rival the size of the entire Beatles' catalog. But here are 10 songs that would be playing for sure if my life were to flash in front of my eyes. They're not necessarily all the songs I love the most still (though I do love them all), just mostly the ones that make my heart leap at a memory and a couple that do mean the world to me.

1. Hello It's Me - Todd Rundgren
2. I Can't Tell You Why - The Eagles
3. Lotta Love - Nicolette Larson
4. Only When You Leave - Spandau Ballet
5. Love's Holiday - Earth Wind & Fire
6. Girl in Trouble (is a Temporary Thing) - Romeo Void
7. When I Think Of You - Janet Jackson
8. Show Me - Howard Hewett
9. Never Too Busy - Kenny Lattimore
10. The Answer is You - Phyllis Hyman

Q&A: GOING GAGA IN GRADE SCHOOL

Xio asks:
"What's your best memory from grade school?"

I really had to think about this one. I know this sounds pathetic, but my grade school years are now nothing but a blur because I deliberately blocked them out of my conscious mind a long time ago. Mostly I remember being sad all the time because I felt like a misfit. Yet the funny thing is that if you ask folks I went to school with to describe me, many of them would say that I smiled a lot and that I seemed happy. I suppose nothing much has changed since then -- except that nowadays, I usually am.

Anyway, my best earliest memory was getting accepted into the Glee Club in the second grade. See, my sister Joni was a longtime member and her group used to perform at various public functions and even on television. I used to watch her during rehearsals and tell myself that it was just what I wanted to do. So as soon as I was allowed to audition, I did. I was scared to death, I remember, but I wanted it so badly that I couldn't even think of what would happen if I didn't make the cut.

My first performance with the Glee Club was at a school function. We sang "Whistle A Happy Tune" and I faked the whistling part because I couldn't (and still can't) put my lips together to blow a tune to save my life. I remember that I was positioned right in the center of the group and that I was absolutely thrilled to see my other sister Suzy and her friends watching me. I felt so proud, I felt like a star. It really doesn't get better than that.

Thanks Xio!

Q&A: ALL THINGS NORMAL

Bing asks:
"For me, I would like to read something from the question 'what is normal to you?'"

Taken literally, what's "normal" is something that conforms to a generally-accepted standard, something that is typical or expected. The word has always made me flinch, quite frankly, because it's often used to justify all kinds of prejudice, especially homophobia. When people think that what's "normal" ought to be the way things are, then society tends to pound down those who stick out or don't fit in.

On the surface, I suppose, I appear as a completely normal person. The way I look, the way I dress, the way I behave in public -- none of these generally provoke raised eyebrows. Yet all my life I never felt like I belonged anywhere; in many ways, I still don't. I've always felt that I was too idealistic, perhaps too sensitive, and that maybe I was born in the wrong time. Even as a kid I felt that I thought too much about the way things were, about things I couldn't change.

So what's normal to me are my routines. That when I wake up I brush my teeth and shower and that before I go off to bed I read a book or a magazine. That at about 5 pm every day my husband and I ask each other "what do you want to do for dinner?" and that we go back and forth about the question as we refill our cat's food bowl. What's normal to me is that sometime during the day (or, more accurately, at night) I will get on my computer, read my email, go online to check the news, my blog, and my Facebook site. And, ever since I can remember, I stay up late and almost never fall asleep before midnight because I've always believed that evenings were magical and couldn't be wasted.

I don't know if anyone would describe me as abnormal or freakish, but I'm reminded now of a conversation I was having with a few of my high school classmates sometime late last year. One of us, someone who's known me for a long time, said with emphasis "Ay si Gigi, iba ang kulo (That Gigi, she ticks differently)."

The only thing I thought at that moment was: If she only knew how much.

Q&A: IF I WERE A FRUIT

Rei asks:
"I used to ask everybody this question and I haven't asked you yet: if you were a fruit, which fruit would you be and why?"

I haven't been asked this since college -- it was one of those questions we were always asked during leadership team-building exercises. So a friend of mine gave me a ready answer to use: "I'd be a mango."

And why is that?

"Because where I go, MAN GO!" I'd reply with diva-ish hauteur and a snap of the finger. And after the snickers and groans would die down, I'd come up with something more serious. Well, at least sometimes I would.

For now I'd probably say a pineapple. It looks tough, but in reality is quite delicate. Hard to crack, but worth the effort. And once you're in -- at the right time -- you discover the fruit is sweet and delicious. Oh I don't know -- I really wanted to be a rambutan but couldn't explain the hard, bitter seed at the center of the flesh, so a pineapple it is!

PS: Rei also wanted to know if I ever thought of having a shoe room. That's like asking Amy Winehouse if she wants a drink! And if I had her funds, I'd probably build one, too. Hey, if Candy Spelling can have a room in her mega-mansion devoted only to gift wrap, I can't see why we couldn't have one for shoes, 'no?

Thanks Rei!

Q&A: THANKS FOR TEN

Ana5678 asks:
"What are the 10 things you're most thankful for?"

Great question! Since I quit my miserable job in November I've been in nothing but a positive and grateful frame of mind. But I haven't thought about the specifics, of just what I'm really thankful for. And now, thanks to Ana, I have.

10 THINGS I'M THANKFUL FOR

1. For my husband. I've never thought of marriage as an end goal; I don't think everyone's cut out for this kind of long-term, committed relationship defined according to legal terms and subject to stringent societal rules and norms. But I'm thankful that when I chose to do it -- again -- I chose well this time around. My husband and I are practically polar opposites but we balance out each other's strengths and weaknesses. We're supportive of each other's goals and interests: we don't clip each other's wings. Once, while we were going through the worst crisis of our marriage, he said that I was the one he (still) wanted to grow old with. As for me, I always knew he wasn't merely the one I could see myself living with, he was the one I couldn't live without. (Or rather, I can because I am a self-sufficient individual after all -- but I just don't want to.)
2. For my family. I come from a highly dysfunctional family (who doesn't, perhaps?) and nothing can knot up my stomach more than issues with my parents and siblings. But in the end, my parents are extraordinary people who are simply all-too human and as frail and fragile as the rest of us, and if I could choose my sisters I would surely pick the ones I already have.
3. For my cat, Boo. She showed up unexpectedly at my doorstep more than 11 years ago and I took her in despite my severe allergy to cats because of her innate sweetness and endearing quirkiness. Now, thousands of dollars in allergy medication later, I'm convinced we were made for each other.
4. For my friends. No one knows this more than I do: I have been blessed with the best friends in the world. Their love and friendship is unconditional, their loyalty steadfast and true, and collectively they constantly help steer me in the right direction (when I get off-course or lost it's always wholly my own fault).
5. For all my mistakes and failures. Facing them, even now, is gut-wrenchingly painful but without them I wouldn't be who I am today. More importantly, without them I wouldn't have empathy and patience for others, which are two of my strongest traits. Some people might say I haven't lived up to my potential, yet I strongly believe that I'm still en route to finding my raison d'etre, my reason for being. And that reason, I'm certain, is something not simply for myself.
6. For my (fully functional) senses. I live in this world so completely because I'm passionate about what I see, hear, taste, smell, and touch. I'm inspired every single day, especially because of all those  people who use their senses to create constantly and continuously -- writers, artists, designers, musicians, chefs, artisans, etc.
7. For this time-out in my life. I work part-time for a cult-status-worthy chain of grocery stores right now. It's nothing like anything I've ever done before, it's not what I studied or trained for, and it's not a place one would normally find a clumsy, fashion-obsessed girly-girl like me lifting heavy boxes in. But since I've been here in December I've learned to love work again.I arrive at and leave the store with a smile on my face and as an added bonus, I've grown stronger and leaner from all the physical labor I do daily. I highly respect the company I work for and I genuinely like being with the people I work with. I've raised my level of expectations and know what to look for when I get back into the "real" world again.
8. For my panic disorder and diabetes. Honestly, I was surprised when I found myself writing this as these are two of the worst things that have ever hit me. But when the panic attacks first started many years ago, I realized I needed to slow down and start taking control of my life again. I was moving too fast but completely all over the place. And when I was diagnosed with diabetes recently, I knew it was time again to do the same -- to find my center and pay attention to the important details.When I finally beat these two, I will be thankful again but even more so.
9. For my good luck. Some people say there's no such thing as luck, but my life has proven otherwise. Even my ex-husband used to call me his lucky star. I don't believe in taking shortcuts to success and so I work very hard for the things I want. But I know that there are many things beyond my control and they can go either way. Oftentimes, thankfully, they go in my favor.
10. For the folks who keep me well-groomed. OK, I know this sounds really shallow but hear me out. My dad used to say that when it comes to beautiful women, there are the natural ones and the smart ones. I definitely know how to make the most of what I have, but I can't do it alone. So I'm thankful for, say, Paul, who does my hair. And I used to have great brows until Jasmine left Shu to open up her own place (hurry up already Jas, I went to someone else and now my "sisters" are strangers!). And I'm thankful for all the people responsible for creating the products -- the right products -- that I use to keep my skin soft and bright and my hair shiny.Trust me: if you ever see me on days when I simply don't care, you'll wish I did. So be thankful for them, too.

Q&A: FIVE FOR FIFTY

Cathy asks:
Let's try this... the thing/people you miss most about manila? five things to do before you hit 50?

I'll answer the second question first.

Five Things To Do Before Turning 50:

1. Find God. I've been searching all my life, after all.
2. Learn how to ride a bike. Now it's not just a matter of pride, it's my environmental responsibility, too.
3. Get a book or short story published. Yes, I suppose I'm a late-bloomer.
4. Be completely ready for retirement and able to take care of self (and husband) in our senior years.
5. Have managed my health so well that I no longer need my diabetes medication and have fully conquered my panic attacks.

But before I do any of these, I need to be rid of (irrational) fear -- which stops me from doing what I really want to do.

What I Miss Most About Manila:

That feeling of being home -- of fully knowing and understanding where I am in relation to the people, places, and events surrounding me even if I often don't know and understand why things are the way they are or why they can't change or get better. When I'm home, I exhale (and not just because it's so tough to inhale and breathe in Manila air).

Thanks Cathy! I think I have a few ideas for future posts here.