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self-portrait
5-minute crush
people watching
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hey, email me sometime. i like to hear from you.



if you're looking for that journal thing i used to keep, you can still read the old entries and the really old entries.
updated january 2002

you probably came here for a setting -- an environment, a place and time and mood in/at/for which this takes place. but Once Upon a Time is so boring. obviously i was born somewhere; and no doubt i grew up, and met people, and went places, and did things; and yes, i continue to live, each and every single day breathing in and out, of course. naturally.

still, i should know better. you need more.

so. hi. i'm christine castro.

when i was a child, i wanted to dye my hair blonde and change my name to regina. i write in lowercase letters not because i think i am e.e. cummings nor because i do not know the proper grammatical rules, but because i think it is more aesthetically pleasing. in 3rd grade, i won 3rd place in a penmanship contest. as a reward, we ate bubblegum ice cream. i've always loved writing, so i studied journalism in school. my heart wasn't into community reporting, so now i work as a web producer. i make websites. my mother thinks if i tell you more information, you will find me and kill me. i hope not, because i want to live to cry at my wedding and have dinner parties in my backyard. i am 25 26.

i still believe that there are good things in the world. i believe in God. i believe everything happens for a reason. i believe my body will tell me if it's getting sick or craving a hamburger. i believe that if you love your job, success will follow. sometimes i can't believe how lucky i am.

i was born in quezon city, philippines, sometime around 10 a.m. on november 22, 1975, the death anniversary of JFK, on the scorpio/sagittarius cusp, on the feast days of Christ the King and St. Cecilia, for whom i was named. when i was 9 months old, my parents brought me and my two older brothers to the united states so that we could have a better life, one that included an education, security and opportunity. i am 1.5 generation filipina american. i became a u.s. citizen when i was 20 years old.

most of my family is still in the philippines, including my grandma whom i miss dearly. i have gone back several times and am treated like a princess whenever i do. i have also traveled throughout europe, up the west coast and some of the east. i want to drive across the country.

i grew up in a very pleasant place in orange county and now live near the coast in the greater los angeles area. i am not your typical SoCal Baywatch Babe, so don't ask, and come to think of it, i never really thought i'd live in LA.

recently i was asked what are my goals, to which i replied, "gosh, i don't know where to begin." i want to help people see how beautiful they are. i want to write and illustrate children's books. i want to handcraft greeting cards and sell them on the corner. i want to have children and teach them how to paint with their fingers. i want to grow a daisy and tulip garden in my backyard. i want to take care of my parents as they've taken care of me. i want to make money the least of my worries. i want to fall in love.

i am a media fiend. i devour literature and film and music and art. i've dabbled in all areas -- scribbling poetry, attempting a play, playing the piano, and swirling a paintbrush -- but the downside is i feel like i never know enough about one medium. i am horrible at picking favorites, so i won't even try. besides, that's more of a first-date topic that you and i might share over a cup of coffee.

i have no illusions about my imperfections. i am a mess. i am moody and picky and antsy and careless and self-absorbed and vain. i am horrible with names. i stare without realizing. i judge books by their covers, and sometimes i judge people that way, too. i snort when i laugh. i trip over things. i make jokes that nobody gets but me, and when i do, i laugh, no, i guffaw, without even a trace of grace. it's just embarrassing. i hardly ever get hate mail, and i almost wish i would, because i can really be quite a bitch, sometimes.

i began this website as an attempt to learn HTML and write better and more often. it started off as a string of pages on free web space and has grown into an excessive and sprawling domain that has actually been recognized. i keep writing because i am delusional: i imagine things and i imagine that people want to read them. it's an overwhelming feeling when i discover that people actually do.

to you, this might seem like a bunch of useless facts -- places, numbers, names. to me, it's just the stuff inbetween the air i breathe and the moments i seek. it's just part of me and my life.

to find out the rest, you may want to start from the beginning.

8 things that have nothing to do with anything
1. i felt i'm a moody girl the last time i checked.
2. i live in the House of Love, according to the numerological interpretation of our address.
3. i have moved three times in the past year, two too many times, if you ask me.
4. my bed looks like a painting. it feels like a beanbag.
5. i own four five cameras: a polaroid one-step express, a polaroid izone, a canon elph jr., a holga that i just got and an olympus d-500L, in an attempt to stop wasting so much film.
6. tulips are my favorite flower, followed by gerber daisies.
7. i like to be wooed, and i miss smooching senselessly.
8. i use the following phrases too much: "hot damn," "dude" and "sucks ass." (i talk like a 12 year old boy.)