Before I get started with Part Two, here’s Part One.

Omfg, this is one of the hottest songs I’ve heard all year. This song makes me want to get up, find my current favorite CFM shoes (the patent platform 7′ Aldo stiletto) and strut. No wonder they picked this as one of the songs for the 2009 Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show. Excellent choice. Eeeeexxxcellent.

So what exactly do I have in common with the hottest models in the world? Simple. I walked a catwalk with little more than a few scraps of cloth on. It runs in the family.

You see, my mom did runway in Japan when she was young. My mom’s tall for her generation and she is also the beneficiary of the mutant Asian gene known as Really Huge Boobs. I know, I know. It’s weird to talk about your mom that way (believe me….I nearly wanted to vomit when I was typing those words) but hey, I won the genetic lottery because not only do I take after her side for the height, I also inherited the boobs and killer legs. Thank you, Mommy!!

Walking the catwalk never really crossed my mind because…well…I’m a bookworm and the books I read growing up never featured models. In fact, the only reason I know about my mom is because she mentioned it in passing and I saw the photo of her in the Japan show she did.

So how did this all come about? I received an invitation to compete in a swimsuit competition. Two thoughts crossed my mind simutaneously.

1. What do I have to lose?
2. This would make an excellent story to tell my grandkids if I ever decide to have kids.

I had a month to prepare. I threw all my time into working out. 3 hours a day, six days a week for a month. I squeezed in these epic workouts between when I got out of class and before I started work in the bar. I got a lot of funny looks leaving the gym because I’m dressed in skimpy black outfits with a face full of makeup. Maybe this explains all the weird propositions I got walking to my car.

Anyway.

Unfortunately, keeping the hours of a vampire left my even more freakishly paler than I was to begin with but I had no time to work on my tan. Besides, my mutant power is never being able to tan so I was screwed from the get go in that department.

The competition was in San Francisco at a joint called Club Rouge. At first, I was like “uh….what the hell kind of place is this?! It sounds like a brothel or something” but it turned out to be a bar. This was not just my first time in SF but it was going to be my first time competing in something that did not require me to wield weapons of any kind or knuckle guards on my hands.

To say I was paranoid is putting it mildly. I was in Level 4 Freak Out mode. And then I met the girls I was to compete against.

This is what I’m talking about. Figure out which one I am.
It’s hard, huh? Yeah, right.

Dude, I was the only Asian. They were mostly either tall, blond, tanned Amazonian chicks. I got the tall part…and that’s it. Again. What the fuck am I doing here?! Level 5 Freak Out, here I come.