Beauty pageants have long had a reputation for being sexist, and for contributing to the objectification of women and an unhealthy image base for the American Girl. The whole idea of the beauty pageant seems absurd in itself: young women, clad in grandiose evening gowns, compete in such categories as “poise”, “swimsuit”, “evening gown” and “interview.” (The Miss America pageant has a talent competition; Miss USA does not.) In the end, the winner receives a bouquet, a crown, a sash, and performs a tear-jerking, sashaying walk down a runway, waving “the wave”, amid rapturous applause and raining glitter. 

The competitors in these pageants are often viewed by the alternative public as “ditzes” and, well, for the momentary lack of a better term, gender traitors. When Carrie Prejean stated her opinion on gay marriage at the 2009 Miss USA Pageant, she came under intense public scrutiny. While I do not agree with Miss Prejean’s stance, I realized that most people weren’t actually critical of her ideals: they were already pre-disposed to thinking that she was a “ditz” and her perceived incapability to eloquently express an opinion that many people disagreed with was just the cherry on top.

Girls have different reasons for competing in beauty pageants. Some feel they’re stepping stones to acting and modeling careers; Miss United Kingdom 2009, a woman of color and a quathlete, dreams of competing in the 2012 Olympic Games. I, however, while subjecting myself to said objectification and superficial scrutiny, am seeking to revolutionize, politicize, and radicalize the role of the beauty queen in today’s sociopolitical climate and actually make her an agent of change by having her represent the people of her state. 

As a little girl, I used to watch the Miss America Pageant with my friend Alejandra and, afterwards, we would recap the pageant over an intense Barbie session. I thought those girls-most of which, in retrospect, I cannot relate to-were perfect. I now realize that perfection, along with other things such as beauty and talent, is relative, but those were the girls I strove to be like. I now feel that young girls in the United States-girls such as my two nieces, Isabella and Phoebe or the ones that I tutor at Garfield Elementary School in San Francisco-need role models outside of the tween queen bubble: they need girls who confront the oppression, who don’t subscribe to what the media declares as beautiful, and who are sociopolitically conscience and active in their communities and world. They also need girls to whom they can relate to, in order for them to even begin to look up to them. 

Being pigeon toed, having a tendency to slouch and a grown out punk hair cut (with bleached out bangs, P.S.) would instantly rule me out from any beauty pageant. I’d probably be pushing it with my not-so-clear skin and Sophia Loren inspired cellulited hourglass body, not to mention that I have two chipped teeth and a huge gap in between them. However, no matter what the media or some huge organization run by Donald Trump says, I think I’m beautiful.

My name is tati luboviski-acosta, I am an artist, feminist, and a longtime resident of Highland Park, and I’m totally running for Miss California USA 2010.

I never ever thought I would say this, but I think I really hate Los Angeles.

and p.s., it's misshighlandparkinsf.blogspot.com/

 FUCK THIS.

go read misshighlandpark.blogspot.com/

 It's been nearly three years since I've published anything to here. This is all pre-drugs, pre-sex, pre-blossoming Tati; pure, almost unadulterated. My writing style is remarkably similar; truth be told, I'm actually surprised with the quality of writing on here. Oh sure, further back I sound like a fucking whiny little bitch (which I was and still am, to a certain extent), but later on, after I get over all the freshman year of high school/early sophomore year pathos, it's actually palatable to me. It's still appalling to me how little self-esteem I had at this time. I'm also mortified to read how much obsessed with David Bowie I was in my early years of adolescence. 

I hate the word "interesting."

I love the world.

Just not the people who don't know what to say at that moment and use "interesting" when reffering to something like a piece of art or shocking news or the fact that their kid is fascinated with...I don't know, William Shatner, like how I use "like."

"If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all."

Well, I think "interesting" is un-nice.

1. If there were only 5 movies in existence, what would you want them to be?  Mmm...probably Ghost World, because you need hipster cynicism; The Graduate, because you need sixties cynicism; La Dolce Vita, because you need Italian hope; The Royal Tenenbaums, because the music's good, and the colors are pretty; and the original GODZILLA, because it's Japanese, and its just awesome.

2. What is the first thing that comes to your mind when the subject of... DEATH looms about? Me getting hit in the head with a shovel in the middle of the woods...yeah.

3. What do you imagine you were, if you will, in a past life? What makes you think this? I think I was a matador. Because I like the costumes, and it's pretty flamboyant, and the music they play is great, and you're like a dancer...only you're killing a bull...but you're wearing a really gorgeous costume, and you can die in this almost...Grecian mythological way, and millions of spectators will be waving hankerchiefs.

Either that, or a drag queen.

4. Where do you see yourself in the next... let's say... 7 months and 7 days. That'll be March 13th. What do you imagine will be different by then? Or what do you hope to accomplish by then? I'll probably be a little taller...and a lot wiser...and my back'll be straighter.

5. If someone were to ask you, "do you think Jon and I would get along?" how would you come about answering this? Uh, because Jon likes movies, and I like movies, and he likes Frankie, and I like Frankie, and he likes Rent, and I pay my rent on time...

Yeah, so if you want me to interview you...just leave me a comment with "INTERVIEW ME."

So today, John and I have been going out for two months. And it has been the weirdest two months of my life.

Anyways.

I went to the dentist. And I kept my eyes open during the entire procedure.

I've been going to the same dentist faithfully (save that one time the orthodontist went on vacation and I had to go to another one...also how I met Linda) since...well, he's a third generation dentist, meaning my grandparents went to him...now he's old, and his daughter took over the practice. I've been named "Best Patient of the 2005-2006 Fiscal Year."

I have to wear night braces, and they gave me three shots of anethesia in my mouth...I was numb for four hours and it was magical.

So, I wrote another play. It's short-only about eight and a half pages...and it's called "Absolutely Sweet Marie" after the Bob Dylan song. It's not as fun as the other one (if you have read the other one...). Eh. Whatever.

Date:	2006-06-18 21:49
Subject:	yes sir! oy vey!
Security:	Public
Mood:	amused
Music:	Fan

hree Names You Go By:
1.TATI
2.tatiana
3.tatianisima

Three Things You Are Wearing Right Now:
1. peach skirt
2. vicky era blouse
3. a bra


Three Things You Would Want to HAVE in a Relationship:
1. playfulness
2. honesty
3. actual feelings

Three of Your Favorite Hobbies
1. photography
2. writing
3. reading

Three Things You Want Really Badly At The Moment:
1. to throw up
2. to throw up
3. to throw up

Three pets you had or have:
1. sonna (german shepherd)
2. corn flakes (rooster)
3. el chinito (chinatown turtle)

Three people who will fill this out:
1. how the
2. hell
3. am I suppose to know?

Three things you did last night:
1. swim
2. dance
3. entertain my dad

Three Favorite Places to eat:
1. la estrella
2. abc dim sum
3. in and out

Three People that live in your house:
1. me
2. mom
3. keelyfrankie

Three things you ate today:
1. mochi
2. udon
3. brownie

Three people you last talked To:
1. john
2. linda
3. alexatron


Three Things You're doing tomorrow:
1. register at pcc
2. see john
3. kick linda

Read then answer with 2 words:

1. Yourself: glass(y) eyed
2. Your car: washington nissan
3. Your Hair: frizzy braids
4. Your mother: annoying hippy
5. Your father: smelly smoker
6. Your Favorite Item: nikon camera
7. Your Dream Last Night: repeat yesterday
8. Your Favorite Drink: fruity ice
9. Your Dream Home: sleek ikea
10. The Room You Are In: the studio
11. Your Pet: neurotic cat
12. Your fear: crucifixition stigmata
13. Where You Want to be in Ten Years: Berlin, Germany
14. Who you hung out with last night: my mom
15. What You're Not: pretty hot
16. Your Best Friend: see eleven
17. One of Your Wish list Items: someone's heart
18. Your Gender: female girl
19. The Last Thing You Did: make macaroni
20. What You Are Wearing: underwear
21. Your Favorite Weather?: cold dry
22. Your Favorite Book: gingerbread
23. The Last Thing You Ate: cheesy macaroni
24. Your Life: very messy
25. Your Mood: itchy slouch
26. The last person you talked to on the phone: happy frankie

Date:	2006-06-08 04:46
Subject:	Lurve.
Security:	Public
Mood:	happy
Music:	"Ask," The Smiths

I am so euphoric...it's amazing.

Date:	2006-05-20 22:52
Subject:
Security:	Public
Mood:	confused
Music:	"Because," the Beatals

So I got confirmed yesterday.

I kept crying throughout the whole ceremony, because I felt nervous and like the Holy Spirit wasn't in me or something. Plus my knees had fallen asleep.

But I felt...I don't know...different afterwards. Maybe because they chiseled it in that I was supposed to feel different.

And today I went to Sectional Field Day for all of southern California. It's like this huge day where people participate in speeches and horticulture and all sorts of things. I participated in about four categories: prepared reading (Siddartha), extemporaneous (the effect of the media on people today), impromptu (Is Euthanasia Ever Justified), and state format impromptu (Globalization). And I got a gold medal for the state format impromptu...

which means...

I get to go to state!!!!

But it's at UC Davis, up by Sacramento, and it's next weekend. I'm not going to fly up for a day and do a three minute speech and lose.

But I really want to win, and I'm the first in like, seven years from my club to make it to state...

Date:	2006-05-14 19:58
Subject:
Security:	Public
Mood:	amused
Music:	some Diana Krall song

What Famous Leader Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

What I basically did was write out the following:

FRANK GEHRY was born Ephraim Goldberg to a Jewish Canadian family in Toronto, on February 28, 1929. He moved to Los Angeles at the age of seventeen.

Studied at Los Angeles City College, the University of Southern California’s School of Architecture, and Harvard University’s School of Urban Planning.

Known for his curvaceous post-modern (also known as “DeCon”-de-constructive of society and function’s necessity) structures, particularly the Guggeinheim Museum in Bilbao, Spain, which is made of titanium, and the Walt Disney Concert Hall, on Grand Avenue in downtown Los Angeles.

Is known to hate to use computers, as it causes the design to lose human feeling.

Is also known to crumple up pieces of paper and use them as preliminary designs.

Has made and sold furniture made up of sheets of cardboard.

Started designing jewelry for Tiffany and Co., along with vases and bowls.

Recently began pitching the Grand Avenue project, claiming that “Los Angeles is known for not having a center.” The three-acre development would be adjacent to the Walt Disney Concert Hall, and provide condominiums, dining, fitness clubs, one hundred apartments, and rooftop pools.

And then I printed it out...
and I pasted a piece of aluminum foil to the back, and I crumpled the goddamn thing up.

I am too cool for school.

Date:	2006-05-02 00:53
Subject:	I am smoking crack out of a party hat.
Security:	Public
Mood:	bitchy
Music:	...

Don't listen to me...I'm just really, really distraught. Like a spinster at the bottom of a lake.

Do you know what it's like to waste four years?

AUGH.

Date:	2006-04-30 18:29
Subject:	Today
Security:	Public
Mood:	amused
Music:	"Sunday Sun," Beck

Okay, so I had a better day at work today. Some English lady came in and bought about a hundred dollars worth of candles and soaps. And then this redneck (for lack of a better word) looking guy came in and slammed three dollars on the counter, demanding flowers. I had no idea what to give him, but there were branches of cheap looking purple daisies for a dollar each, so I just gave him three. I felt kinda bad...but it was what he could afford. And then some blue-haired lady came in and bought a couple hydrangeas and a few cabbage stalks-both of them three fifty a stem. And a man spent thirty dollars on flowers.
Where do people get all that money to spend money on flowers like that?
Don't they have rent to pay, kids to feed and clothe, taxes to pay? And how come they have so much money, but that guy only had three dollars to buy a measley bunch of roadside daisies for his wife?
Eh, I better stop, before my boss reads that and fires me.
After work, I bought myself five white ranaculas (my favorites) and one yellow one placed in the middle. I walked around this street fair on Mission with the bouquet and looked around all the second hand shops. I always want to buy myself a dress, or a piece of absolutely lovely Japanese silk, or something cool, but after spending eight hours in that flower shop, praying for people to come in...this job has really made me appreciate money.
The weather was what probably causes suicidal people on Whidbey Island to re-think their funeral dates and people like me to start wishing our would come sooner (like now): it was sunny and the sun was echoing off the asphalt, and I felt like I was melting like a Virgen de Guadalupe candle...or any candle, actually. It was weird, because while I was looking at this old samsonite with a geisha painted on it, this South Pas lady with a STOP THE 710 t-shirt asked me if I was feeling okay.
"Yeah, I'm just a little warm, ma'am. Why?"
"You look really pale, but you're sweating."
Um.
"Oh...well, you know...(I just laughed it off.)"
I'm really bad at laughing things off, and that lady made me feel self consious (That's all I need, lady: another self-consiousness issue.) so I just decided to come home.
I have a feeling that if Paul's grandfather knew me, he'd talk about my great hideous hooter (nose) instead. Like he did to Ringo.

Date:	2006-04-27 21:35
Subject:	You know, the usual: sex, drugs, rock and roll...well, the lack of, rather...
Security:	Public
Mood:	giggly
Music:	my mom and her artist friends chit chatting

This is who I feel like after drinking my first (of many) cup of oolong black tea in the morning:

In other words, I feel GOOD.
Black tea today, speed tomorrow! in the words of my father. (As you can see, he has very high expectations for me.)

I went from sugar to chocolate to tea to...let's just hope it ends there...

HA. Yeah, right. Next thing I know, I'll be robbing Starbucks from here to Seattle for espresso shots and the pharmacy next door for a syringe. 

Wait...
Do pharmacies sell syringes? 
Hmm.
Must call Sa-Von for the answer to this highly philosophical question.

Disorder	Your Score
Major Depression:	High
Dysthymia:	High
Bipolar Disorder:	Extremely High
Cyclothymia:	Extremely High
Seasonal Affective Disorder:	High
Postpartum Depression:	N/A
Take the Depression Test

Date:	2006-04-22 10:43
Subject:	Los Angeles City Council Adventure
Security:	Public
Mood:	aggravated
Music:	"Blasphamous Rumours," Depeche Mode

Most of you are probably used to hearing me talk about the South Central Farmers, like the Peace Club. But for those of you that have no idea about what I'm talking about, the South Central Garden in located south of downtown L.A., on 41st and Alameda, and it's the largest urban garden in the nation. It's about fourteen acres (small), but it's a good piece of land among warehouses, the blue line and the LAC Food Bank. The city of Los Angeles sold it to a group of investors, one of which happened to be Ralph Horowitz. The farmers had no idea of this, and when they received the first eviction notice, they naturally decided to fight it.
Somehow, my mother fell into this, and for those of you who know my mom, she is amazingly dedicated to things of this nature. Mainly, she has joined them at city hall to speak at the city council meetings...and she's good at that. The first time she did it, she actually got Jan Perry, the area's councilwoman's attention-Perry thought my mom had threatened her and lashed back with a harsh statement. A bad move. Perry should've known that if my mom was threatening her (which she wasn't), it would've been an empty threat. I should know: my mom threatens me all the time ("If your not going to behave, I might as well just pull you out of this high school and move back to Washington!") and they are as empty as a high GPA score's promise to get you into the college of your choice. All her lashing out did was prove to my mom that this lady simply didn't care about the garden, and now, Jan Perry gets a biweekly dose of Vanessa Acosta's speeches.
But, like most viruses, the city council seems to have developed a defense mechanism to the Farmers' continuing pleas of help.
Actually, I think they developed it against all the people who come in with comments.
Anyway, yesterday, as I had no school on account of break, my mother brought me along. Rufina had come up with this idea of handing olive branches to the council members while my mom spoke. I was one of the people who were going to hand the olive branches over, along with a girl who was about my age. The meeting started at nine, earlier than usual...
They spent two hours giving proclamations to NFL players and retired MTA people, foreign exchange student advocates, the Armenian community, the Asian and Pacific Islander community-I mean, all that stuff is great, but you were given two minutes to talk, and if you went over two, you are supposed to get cut off. This is why they have timers. But people would go ten minutes over, and it would be awful-Bernard Parks, who was recognizing an NFL player went about forty minutes over.
I was ready to scream.
Then, the greatest act of hypocrisy I have ever seen (which isn't saying much, but I think it shocked me because it involved politicians...which shouldn't have shocked my at all) happened: Jan Perry recognized people celebrating Earth Day.
This councilwoman, who wouldn't even acknowledge the SCF, was handing out proclamations to people who were planting trees and stuff, and the mayor stated that this year, he was going to plant one million trees in Los Angeles. Meanwhile, Albert, my mom, and I were going "Hello? Why not keep the SCG to help out with this whole earth day spirit." But at least Villaragosa is trying to help the SCF.
But I was livid. (Not visibly, because the security guards are really observant at city hall-an angry teenage grrrl is a likely terrorist. And they are right. I was ready to open the gates of hell and make an ice cream truck explode.) My hands were twitching and my breathing got all heavy. A rush of adrenaline was racing through the autobahn of my circulatory system. And then I realized that maybe I was getting too angry-
and anger, while being constructive, usually leads to heart attacks. And what use would I be if I was dead? So, I checked my anger, and began to plot.
Finally, it was time for public comments.
The first guy up wasn't really there-he was a telecast, and he was talking about some conspiracy involving Peperdine University and the LA river, and it was very frightening. But not one of the council members was paying attention. He was making some good points, until they cut him off.
This worried me. This man was trying to inform the city council-the legislature of our city-and they didn't give one iota about it.
Then it was our turn. Mom went first, and as she was speaking, I moved the rope separating the council chambers and the audience aside, and the girl and I began to distribute the olive branches. I tried to make eye-contact with Councilwoman Perry and smile at her, but she seemed too involved in her peach non-fat yoplait to hear us, let alone accept an olive branch.
I hate peach yogurt.
Councilman Rosendahl, on the other hand, reached out and gladly accepted the olive branch. But then one of those city hall police guys asked, well, yelled rather, what we were doing.
"Passing out olive branches as symbols of peace," I responded as serenely as possible-I felt like my heart was going to implode.
"No, you're not." And then he proceeded to throw Perry and the council person after her's olive branches away, until someone's assistant grabbed the rest and distributed them to the others.
Then it was Albert's turn. He ended with "Aqui estamos, y no nos vamos"-"Here we are, and we not leaving."
The olive branch girl pleaded concisely.
Then came this poet lady and she went on and on about hollistic lifestyle.
Then, it was my turn.
I felt like a zombie John Henry was pounding away in my chest. The proceeding councilman was talking, so I was at the podium for several seconds until someone noticed I was there. Finally, the guy said, "yes?"
I smiled. "Hello, my name is Tati Luboviski-Acosta, and I am here in support of the South Central Farmers." I glanced at Perry, who was reading something. "And on behalf of the largest urban garden in the United States of America, I'd like to wish you all a happy earth day." I smiled again.
The proceeding guy probably knew I was being cheeky. I usually am being cheeky. So he didn't smile, and I kept on smiling at him and Perry, and then he said "Thank you. Next?"
I felt like I was going faint.

Date:	2006-04-21 14:10
Subject:	Skool.
Security:	Public
Mood:	amused
Music:	Landlord's Lawnmower

I got my grades!!!

Graphic Design: A-
New Genres: A+
Printmaking: A
Photo: A (Thanks, Jacobo)
Art Direction: A-

Let's not talk about academics...too depressing. But hey, nothing lower than a B...sighhhh.