GIRL And Her Name Is. Josette. Josie. Jojo. Is Seventeen. Born Thirty Six Eighty-Five (30/06/85). Died Mid-Freshman Year. Resurrected Six Two Two (06/02/02). And Continues to Live. Apparently, Very Moody. And Childish. Not to Mention Demanding. But Quite Reliable. A Procrastinator. A Perfectionist. A Hopeless (Romantic, Case etcetera). A Person. Just Another Girl. More Info on Her?
SOUL And She Has One. Yes, I Was Surprised As Well. Her Soul Cries Out (in Frustration, Sadness, Joy). She Shows Her FSJ through Writing. She Writes Poems. Original Ones. And Organizes Them Thus: 01-10 and 11-20 and 21-30. They Stink. At Least She Thinks So. So and So. Such and Such. (Polonius, HAH!) She Wrote Other Things. The First is Quite Editorial: TVMBML. The Second is a Short Story from Junior English: TCB. The Third is Another Editorial: POD. She Thinks It's Short and Passionate. And the Fourth is What She Felt and Continues to Feel on Occassion: SCD.
MISC And There are Miscellaneous Items. You Can Contact Her through E-mail or Guestbook, But E-mail Works Better. She belongs to the Clique, TOTEM. Her Totem is a Humming Bird. Spiffy, no? Like Other People, She Has Wishlists 01 and 02. She Doesn't Plan on Buying These Things Herself. She Thinks That Anyone Who Actually Decides to Buy Her Something Off of Her Wishlists is Insane, But Appreciates It All the Same. And, of course, Departure. Here Are Some Links. Much Thanks Goes to Her Lovely Hostess, Melcena-doll. Melcena Owns the Following Domains: MIRRORSOUL.NET, GLASSRAIN.ORG, and WYNTERCHYLDE.COM. Visit Her At Once! And a Final Note: Josette Thanks You For Visiting Her Pathetic Little Website. Nod Nod. Muchas Gracias.

SHOWCASE DOLL“I wore a mask, and my face grew to fit it.” This phrase is not true for all people, but it is a common issue in today’s society. We are constantly putting up façades in order to be accepted by the masses. We do this because the want to be accepted and loved is a part of human nature. Some people believe that they must act a certain way in order to fit into the crowd. Other times, our parents create these masks for us. They produce a set of standards, which we must follow.

This is the case for me.

I am a member of the Filipino Community. This is a highly political society where tongues wag and people smile in your face—then go home and talk behind your back. Of course, not all Filipino’s act in this matter, but the majority of them do.

The political aspect of this society does not appeal to me in any way, shape, or form. Unfortunately, I have learned to play the game due to the mask that I must wear when I am around them.

For instance, my mother wants me to enter an upcoming award ceremony where I would be awarded for academic achievement within the Filipino Community. As previously stated, I despise Filipino politics. I hate to play the role of a pretty-looking, showcase doll, smiling and greeting my Titos and Titas with kisses on their cheeks. I hate to pretend to love and adore these people that I do not know just so that I can appear to be a good, little girl. I already am. Why do I have to prove it to these people?

This woman, Marang Annie, calls up my mom, buttering her up to the idea that this award ceremony would be a fun gala to attend—that it would show that her kid is an amazing addition to the face of the world. So, not knowing my mother’s full intentions, I tell her blatantly that I do not want to participate in this Filipino function. I tell her that I feel this way because the association in charge of the gala is probably going to charge us fifty dollars a person just so that we can dance to the “Electric Slide,” eat, and see me receive a piece of paper they had made at Kinko's.

It's all politics.

These people are using an award ceremony, which doesn't really mean anything, to make cash. My dad shares my sentiments. He told my mom that we wouldn’t be going. When my father left the dinner table where all of this was taking place, my mom became quiet (which is terrible; a sign of total death) and started to say softly that she wanted to be able to bring her sister to the Filipino gala and have fun and have me be recognized in the Filipino Community. I could literally feel the chestpains arise in her chest as her eyes became slightly wet.

Damn it.

At that moment, I realized that I was a stupid, heartless kid who deserved to die. Seriously, what is wrong with me? All my mom wants to do is have fun with her sister—show her the Filipino Community down here. (My aunt is coming on January 31st).

I became upset at the fact that I made my mother unhappy. I started to ask her when it was, but then she gave me this death glare and told me not to say anything else. Then I ran to my room to cry.

But why is it all my fault? Why couldn't my mom have said, "Hey, participate in this so we can chill at the party and have fun"? Personally, I wouldn't have fun—having to be dolled up with a constant smile and pleasant face on. I hate those functions because they’re boring, and the only thing they do is play politics, gossip, and brag about whatever there is to brag about—a new car, what college their son or daughter is attending, what kind of noodles they use in their pancit.

So, of course, the final decision is that we are going the function where I will receive the bogus academic achievement award. I will become that perfect, little doll, and make my parents happy.