If you live anywhere a source of news media, you will know that this has not been the best week for the world. You don’t even me to link to the events that have cast long shadows over the past few days. While bright things are happening every day – much of which I want to share with you – it feels disingenuous of me to share them without first addressing things that for all I know could be affecting you directly.
So this is me checking up on you. You ok? What’s helping you reorient?
Happy October! There are so many reasons to celebrate this month: October is Filipino American Heritage Month and LGBT History Month! If you’re reading this in ~real time~, I’m likely with my mom at a Filipino arts exhibit at the Asian American Art Museum. Amidst all of this celebration, I’m so excited to share with you one of my favorite YA books of the past year – definitely something to pick up this special month. Read on for a tale of high school friendship, budding romance, and a spectacular cast of LGBT superhero teens!
I know. I am the last person in the world who hasn’t seen this show. It’s like that I’m in that Twilight Zone episode – you know, the one where the man wakes up in the future, and everyone around him has alien features and is like, You haven’t seen Community?!
The evidence arises spontaneously: Like this past weekend, when I arrived at the public library minutes before it opened on a Saturday morning. I lingered outside with the doors with a small crowd of retirees. Or a few weeks ago at the grocery store, when I compulsively reached toward the community college course catalogue.
But Pia, you protest, aghast. You’re done! You’re free! Graduating undergrad is your first major possibility for radical self-determination – why do you do this to yourself?!
The aftermath of the 2016 election was a brutal blow for all women. Nearly a year later, it still pains me to revisit that night: The long walk to my dorm. My hopes for progress on gender equality dashed by the grim confirmation that America once again chose the side of misogyny. I was likely not the only ambitious young woman who thought, So this is the world I am graduating into. This is how that world treats women who want more for themselves.
The November 2016 election is the starting point for Anne Helen Petersen’s collection of essays, Too Fat, Too Slutty, Too Loud: The Rise and Reign of the Unruly Woman. Petersen holds a Ph. D. in media studies; you may recognize her as a senior culture writer at Buzzfeed. In the Introduction, Petersen describes about how she, like many of us, was crushed when she saw perhaps the most prominent woman in America, the toughest and most capable in her field, lose to a man who openly boasted about sexual assault. The election, and what it revealed about how severely society delimits the definition of “a good woman,” was the impetus for Petersen’s collection.
Enter seven unruly women. For the subjects of her essays, Petersen chose to examine a prominent woman in the public eye who has somehow been deemed “unruly,” improper, deviant. In this state of national uncertainty, Petersen argues that “unruliness,” in all fields and from all women, is more necessary than ever.
This weekend, my friend So Yun and I meandered through the crisp, perennially sweater-weather air of San Francisco. We were in Hayes Valley for the San Francisco Urban Air Market, a marketplace that features independent artists and sustainable design. Vendor tents lined several blocks of the neighborhood, with a free painting party in the center and live musicians tucked into the corners. So Yun and I weaved through wares from jewelry makers, illustrators, alpaca fleece weavers, and a surprising number of handmade baby clothes makers.
My Fall Fashion Alter Ego reads the New Yorker on cafe terraces, against a backdrop of autumn foliage. She speaks French better than me. She has clear skin, and, like a true cool-girl, her beauty secret is drinking plenty of water. (Ugh.)
Of course, I’m well aware that Fall Fashion Pia is a veneer, a fiction constructed by my irrational perceived shortcomings, etc. I’m pretty cool with my own life, flaws and all. On the other hand, I’ve always been a believer of faking it until I make it – at least in terms of charm, wit, and having-my-life-together-ness.
So while I don’t want to be my Fall Fashion Alter Ego, I do want to dress likeher. And as autumn lazily descends on the Peninsula, my mind is on big ambitions and achieving my goals… or at least the semblance of it.
Thus, I present the pieces that I’m coveting for fall, the ones that glamorous Fashion Pia would wear. Sidenote: Fashion Pia has a much bigger budget than Real Pia.
Welcome to the first installment of Friday Night In! Today, I’m talking about a TV series whose premature cancellation (15 years ago!) did little to erode its lasting cult following.
Set in a future ruled by the tyrannical interplanetary Alliance, Firefly follows the roguish crew of the space vessel Serenity. Firefly fuses genre conventions of sci-fi and classic Western – a combination that might be played off as wacky and disingenuous in the wrong writer’s hands.
Thankfully, the creative lead on Firefly is none other than Joss Whedon. (Bless that man.) His work – Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D – is defined by action-packed fantasy that doesn’t lose sight of the ethical, emotional issues that drive a story.
Fireflyis, thus, gritty and multidimensional: There are deep-space fight scenes and clever cowboy retorts, moments of grief and beauty in turns.
Here’s why Firefly (and Serenity) should be your date on a Friday Night In:
My dad and I drove seven hours up the coast from LA to SF on Sunday, during which time: he gave me advice on making friends in a new city (maybe I should actually go out on Fridays?), we bought buckets of drive-through soda to stave off the 110° heat, and I found out that my dad can rap the first full three minutes the old-school funk classic, “Rapper’s Delight.”
We made the drive so that my dad could visit me, and so that we could cap off the summer by watching the LA Dodgers play the San Francisco Giants. It was more than a game — the victor of this match would settle, at least for a night, the grave and virulent debate of which is the superior half of California.
My roommate and I were watching TV when a nightclub scene came on. All of a sudden, she made this disgusted face and said, “That’s, like, my worst nightmare! It’s dark and crowded, and there’s no boba.” I love my roommate.
If you know me personally, you already know that I’m not about that club life. On a Friday after work, I would much prefer slipping on some fuzzy socks and catching up on TV. And if you do like to go hard, or if you fall somewhere in between, that’s awesome, too! This series is still for you.