LICKING LIT MATCHES

Maybe I have a skewed view of the world but these are two pretty things I found on The Selby this morning at 9AM. I'm really looking forward to the day I rake in enough to have my own place, and just get it fitted with the most hideous pretty things. Like, OMG, who is the artist for above left??

Yes, I have noticed the change around here. There is a lack of fashion lately and more of an emphasis on my life. That's good. I'm so relieved. I like that.

Panda and I nearly broke up last night. I'm trying to wonder what I'll do with my saved lumpsome if that happens. No, I actually won't go shopping. I'm sick of shopping. It makes me want to vomit. After I clear out all this stuff and leave here, I'm never turning back. Minimalist, expensive (I also welcome cheap) and timeless once-in-a-lifetime pieces, black, white, grey, silver, gold, purple. C'est tout.

I found this really cool very very part time job on Craigslist the other day while browsing options for more money while in L.A.. Typing for this film director while he dictates a script. 2 hours a day. $11 an hour. I did't apply for it though. Everything's set in my head but it's all just still so uncertain on the outside. California's there, the money's there, the ticket isn't. My dad, who's gonna get me the 90% discounted ticket, is off doing Alaska and his wife on some cruise. He says when I get there (Abu Dhabi) in June, we'll talk about it. I don't really know what there is left to talk about after two years of supplying me with tickets to see the same guy. Yes, I sleep on the same bed as him. Even the relationship's there in my head..but is it really? I don't know what's going on but it doesn't feel good. And it's not a hangover, so WHAT THE FUCK IS IT?!

After we got our college photo taken and knocked back as many disgusting free glasses of champagne as possible in an hour (7 - I think more could be had in an hour but it was that bad), we walked over to this small classroom for a fiction/poetry/performance art reading that some friends of mine were hosting and taking part in. Good bunch. Le Vampyre bought me a pint of Snakebite and I got a couple of my books sold. Heading to the doctor this morning to present them with my food diary logged over the last 3 weeks and another cup of piss. Don't really feel like it's the best day to hear that I'm killing myself but I never liked Fridays anyway.

BAD ACTORS WITH BAD HABITS

Okay, so the plan was to sell this.

shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit

I wouldn't have picked that dress for it, maybe some body-hugging crap but couldn't be arsed to wade through my shit for the fifth time today (friends came from far and wide for cups of tea and to scope out my goods). Sale still going strong, and you're thinking, well how come you aren't advertising on here?!, well it's because at the end of the day, all the great things of mine you see on here ain't hardly gonna end up in your grubby hands. Everything else I own is kinda shit. And I feel that my friends can accept that more. There's a lot of fucking peer pressure in the blogosphere. I seriously feel like I'm wearing a pale green, straggly-hemmed pleated uniform, brown loafers, frilly socks and a training bra again. I just never quite made the cut back then. So why should here be any different?

Should I? Shouldn't I? I'm thinkin':
Arabic airport bag searches in June, parental unit sighs, fashion of the sore thumb variety among a sea of sun-kissed summer sluts in cut-offs, tanks and Havaianas (is there room for this in California? Are they ready for this? Can you still drink Corona and wear this? I hope so...) Oh Panda...We'll get dressed for a night of clubbing and then he'll drop me off at the club and look for parking for 2 hours. ORRRR he might like it...But what if he likes it a little too much...? I'm not really into submission.

Speaking of submission, my slave called me the other day saying he was thinking about me a lot over the week (nooo) and that he wants to see me at the next not-to-be-mentioned-here members only fetish night. At the time I was all up for having a slave, and totally let him enjoy himself saying how much he wanted to pamper me, and sitting on my lap while i patted his head, but when it really comes down to it, I'll have a middle-aged man dressed as a woman cooking me a pasta in halls, then retreating to my room to paint my toenails. Can anyone else see where the temptation dies and dies 7 more times afterward? Anyway, as much as he's such a nice guy, I don't even really have the time to see him before I leave now.

So my friend the Vegan came back from visiting her boyfriend in Indiana (what??) and decided to stop by to check out my stuff. She loved everything, tried on everything, said she'd take everything, then didn't. Excerpted conversation:

tV: Oh my god, you're my shoe size. Cool. I love these shoes. My boyfriend doesn't like me being taller than him though. But whatever, I tell him I'll wear high heels if I feel like. *puts shoes back*
...
tV: This belt totally makes this top soo much better! If I don't get anything else, I'm definitely taking these.
Me: Awesome. That's a fiver.
tV:*hands over money* Wait. Is that belt leather?
Me: ...I really don't know.
tV: *sniffs belt, long pause, sniffs again* I think I'll pass.

Anyways, last night was fun. Mistress Ivy spent the night after a pretty shit yoga session that incorporated chinese take-away. So we vowed to wake up early and did another session before she left for work. Last night we checked out half naked pictures of my favourite models Tasha Tilberg and Omahyra Mota (particularly this shoot) and found out 3 years too late that we had the same taste in music and both couldn't find someone to accompany us to the last UK Korn tour. She got a job as a librarian yesterday and is passing up on coming to California this summer, which means no dream team clitoris carnage *mopes* But still very excited about Abu Dhabi with her. We also talked about threesomes. She told me to read The Ethical Slut. Look out for us on the 29th ruining Soho (as if that were possible) all dressed up and dining at Garlic and Shots, then pulling girls at her friend's lesbian bar.

SUMMER SLUTTING IT

[The Cobra Snake]

After doing that interview with Jesse Spears for WAH, she's now one of my favourite bitches in all of Los Angeles. So sure. And then, she went and trumped it and made this list (along with some other sayings and definitions) of what it means to be a Summer Slut (if you read the interview you'd know that 'Summer Sluts' is sort of the theme for one of her next projects). So here we go. Her list. My dream. Summer Slutting it:

WHEN YOU ARE:

HAVING FUN
HAVING FUN IN THE SUN
HAVING FUN IN THE SUMMER MOONLIGHT
PLAYING SPIN THE BOTTLE
JOKING ABOUT PLAYING SPIN THE BOTTLE
BEING IN NU CALIFORNIA
WEARING LISA FRANK GEAR
WEARING VENICE BEACH GEAR
WEARING MALL GEAR
WEARING GEAR FROM THE SMELL
WEARING BLOOD IS THE NEW BLACK GEAR
WEARING LA GEARS
TALKING ABOUT WEED
BEING KIND OF OBSESSED WITH WEED CULTURE
MAKING ALL YOUR PHONE CALLS IN THE WHOLEFOODS PARKING LOT
EATING HEALTHY
GOING ON HIKES
SWIMMING IN THE OCEAN
SWIMMING ALL OVER THE PLACE
BON FIRES
BREAKING STUFF PARTIES
MAKING OUT WITH BOYS IN UNIFORM
WHISTLING AT EVERYBODY
HANGING OUT IN CARS AND VANS
CHASING THE ICE CREAM TRUCK
TAGGING ON WALLS
WEARING BAGGY PANTS WITH TIGHT TANK TOPS
WEARING BIKINI TOPS INSTEAD OF BRAS
LISTENING TO ROCK AND ROLL
DANCING AT PLACES
SCHOOLS OUT 4 EVER

MEMOS FROM HELL, AND BABY IT'S GETTING HOTTER ALL THE TIME

I'm getting sick. Just when I thought I had escaped it, I think I got swine flu today. Today was my car boot sale with Becks. It was...scary. There are a lot of poor, grubby, ugly people in London, reaching out and just grabbing, plucking, throwing around, vilifying...We barely parked and rolled out of the car strapped in bags when they all started gathering very very quietly waiting for us to set up. Not a sound! They just stood there. And when I bent down to unzip my suitcase, they pretty much helped me do it. Everyone crouched down too, and then...GO! They didn't even give me a chance to put it on the racks. It was so gross. So scary. Also I didn't make much money because it was depressing how devalued they wanted my stuff to become. All my expensive purchases were just being whored out. I nearly cried after my big blue quilted Chanel-esque bag walked away with some Asian girl for £6.

And then at one point, Becks' bf Leo just started putting up tags on my containers saying 50p and I had to run after him yelling and ripping them off and sticking them on me instead. Then he gave me a lecture on selling to the Battersea masses, and then I agreed to have one 50p pile. More grabbing and germs later, when things were starting to pick up because I dropped the prices a tiny bit, I started throwing things across to the 50p pile every 5 minutes. I just didn't care anymore. Made a fair amount but nowhere near what I had in mind, which is why I was glad to pack up half my stuff once it hit 4:15 and take it back home to my friends who appreciated it. I was folding one of my awesome big, grandpa, tartan jumpers from Pringle and found that the label had been ripped out because someone tried to 'un-designer' it, which then left two huge holes in it at the nape. PRINGLE IS STILL STITCHED ON THE SLEEVE, YOU FUCK WAD! AND, YOU DIDN'T EVEN BUY IT???!!!!
So back home. Now things are quite calm around here. Slowly but surely, the money is presenting itself, the material lifestyle is evaporating and I'm sitting here awkwardly listless because now I actually have a stretch of time with nothing going on for a couple of days, except for the odd chore (banking, uni, groceries, clinic). This weekend was intense. Scrambling to finish 3 reviews, sorting and organizing and dumping and folding and tagging and lugging...Now what?

(LOOK! I ADDED A CHARM TO MY COFFIN BAG! AWWW!)

The last 2 weeks in London are pretty much gonna be selling, dropping off my obscene amount of fashion mags at the campus clinic like I did last year, giving a big, swift middle finger to this flat, visiting family in Cambridge and Catford, making stately wasted appearances at the two parties my two different groups of friends are throwing me, getting all bounty hunter on people's asses to get paid, and the odd champagne reception and summer ball. Yeah, there's some champagne reception for soon-to-be graduates this Thursday that I'm really only going to for the free booze and because a friend is meeting me there to buy my Skin Two Yearbook. Also I think my mom wants the picture they'll be taking for the future Kara shrine she'll start building this summer.

A bunch of us were going to go to Norfolk for a couple days and stay in my friend's old caravan on the beach getting stoned and drunk but I had to back out because there's just too much to be done in London before I go. I can't sell my shit if I'm stuck hungover for two days in a caravan on the outskirts. Plus I think our ride's brother got a girlfriend and so he's been hogging the car. I'll get in plenty of beach in California anyway, and if need be (which need won't, because I don't light up), I think I've got my weed sorted in LA. Plus it's cold here. You guys shouldn't even have beaches. Such a fucking pointless waste.

Rant over.

P.S. Becks, Leo and I stopped for a drink after the sale and ended up at West Putney Tavern and Leo came back from the loo and was like 'your name's up in the men's toilets.' So my 5-star review of their bar is up around their pub. I looked grubby as hell in my black hooded sweater with the hood up and bags under my eyes so I think the manager was just being nice when he smiled and said, 'Ah! It's a really good review.' He didn't believe I wrote it. Leo took a picture that I will send to my mummy!!!

SENSES WORKING OVERTIME

AAAHHH LIFE IS HAPPENING!!!!! SO SORRY!!!!

Minute post about life. So, for some reason, Norweigan guys and half-norweigans have the hots for me, and for slagging off my boyfriend and 'giving me advice' about how he isn't actually the one and that it'll end because of the long distance business, and 'let me know when you guys break up' et al et al et al! I'm only mentioning this because the first one who started off this trend of ceaseless cocky norweigan guys welcoming themselves into my life is now messaging me on facebook after years of an absence of his coquettish pestering. He says he's going to be in California briefly this summer and we should meet up and test my alcohol levels to see if they're still as beastly fascinating as they were in fresher's year (they so aren't). WHAT A SURPRISE for Panda. He hates him. I 'met' them around the same time.

Anyways, I'm currently looking for a new TV show to get addicted to while I wait for Season 5 of Weeds on June 8th (continuous !!!!!!!!!!s) even though I shouldn't even have time for online TV as I've been losing hair over this big sale tomorrow (or later today) with Becks that's taking place here, not to mention I'm still writing for people, milking it until the very end (E-ticket says June 6th), and graduation type things and final type things, and alcoholic goodbyes over and over and over....and over again. Goodbyes are ridiculous. Fuck. By the time it's actually time to say goodbye, I'm going to drown in tears and my liver will conk out and kill me. But we'll see how far I make it. My room's now half empty and it makes me feel half free. I feel so half good right now. It's half awesome and half exhilerating. I am barely taking 20 items of clothing back with me. Do you know how badass that makes a fashionably aware person? To do that....it's like jumping off a cliff Pocahontas style.

You know what's disgusting though? I have an abnormal amount of CDs from Starbucks. They have this really good one called Senses Working Overtime that you won't find now so sucks to be you, but it has Bauhaus on it, and The Cure, The Smiths, Kate Bush, New Order, Peter Gabriel, Echo and the Bunnymen, XTC et al. But now I'm listening to Outkast. Man...I can't sleep for shit and am dreading the crankiness at the sale tomorrow because of it.

SANS SUCRE

I'm writing this just before hauling my ass to Mistress Ivy's for yoga. I have to take my sugar with me because she's run out of sugar and doesn't take it in her tea. She takes milk though, and I don't. We like tea. A lot. Obv.

I just came back from Skin Two; made some plans to cover some stuff in Cali this summer, worked on photo book coming out later this year. He gave me a Skin Two email.

Last night was whack. Le Vampyre totally lured me away from writing up some reviews, brought over wine, then we lured Mistress Ivy away from her bed, went to ASDA, bought more wine, and snacks, and reduced price rice (...?), then waited at the bus stop sharing a bottle. Back to mine where Mistress Ivy started playing dress-up with all my clothes. She might buy a black bob wig off me, a frilly skirt and some hot pants..and a book to teach her Japanese. Le Vampyre bought some Prozac off me. He also enjoyed walking in a pair of my heels. We were toast. Like...at one point I decided to take out my digital recorder and record the room to check if there were ghosts. Left it on all night through our bullshit talk. I might not play it back yet. I think I'll listen to it on my flight home. I have a Pedestrian Crossing sign in my room.

LET'S DO SOMETHING STUPID

mmeeehhhhhhh....death take meeee. Worked last night. Don't drink and review. And more importantly, if you're planning a quick in and out operation because you look like shit and don't feel like going out, don't offer to do a review of a bar where your friend is manager.

Slug and Lettuce in Fulham is shit full stop
Suburban in Fulham does really good cocktails. I had a Tiramisu martini, bitch! When you go there, give my friend Tony with the nice curly black hair a hug and say I said hi. Take good care of him. Does anyone want my job? I'm sending in my notice this week.

Still pissing flourescent, still sitting in halls, still watching Weeds. Was supposed to be interviewing some graffiti artists today but they cancelled because they had the flu and I'm glad they informed me because we don't know what kind of flu they be talkin' bout. Mistress Ivy just texted me. She booked her ticket! Abu Dhabi better strap on its combat boots. Oh June, you smell so lush. I hate that word 'lush' that you british people say.

THE SLOW DRIP OF SOMETHING STILL HERE

I ABSOLUTELY DON'T TOLERATE TWITTER, BUT SOMETIMES YOU DO WANNA WRITE SHORT BURSTS OF TEXT BECAUSE YOU MAY NOT YET HAVE FINISHED WATCHING ALL THE SEASONS OF WEEDS, SO...

- I had a dream that I was requested by my boss to review a bar and when I got there, I had been duped. Some big Fat Albert type guy had looked me up on the website and I ended up at his house party drinking pink champagne. My friends from Trinidad were there. I looked like a slut. I slapped him all over his roly skin and left; but after my champagne.

-I have a urinary tract infection and my medication has the word Nitro in it and my piss is flourescent yellow

-Nearly decided to keep my UTI instead of spending money on the meds. Broke as a joke.

-I am signing up with Paypal to supposedly make my life easier. I signed up for Ebay too but gave up 5 minutes later when they told me they were gonna charge me for the second, third and so forth pictures I posted per product.

-I should be reviewing a sticky Walkabout pub right about now but I just can't be arsed and I am gonna seriously hate myself in the morning for not going. Waking up knowing I should've been at a bar last night is the new fucked up hangover. Your girl doesn't even really drink anymore.

-Funny how now that I am on some weird meds I feel compelled to buy a bottle of stolichnaya and just lay back...

-I miss Mistress Ivy. She went back home to Essex for the weekend. We did yoga all week and are signing up for this 10 day bikram yoga binge come Monday and are gonna pass out together. That's a love story done my way.

-My mom just informed me that she won't be around for a bit to talk because her husband bought her a trip on an Alaskan cruise for her birthday.

-Mistress Ivy is coming to stay with me and my family for about 2 weeks in Abu Dhabi come June, so my blog should get A LOT more interesting next month. I shouldn't even have to tell you to stay tuned.

-Panda is throwing a major birthday party in a suite in Vegas in July. Can I just say how much I am looking forward to kicking everybody out at the END of the party?

-Weeds

THE ETHICAL SLUT

Hello. Everybody reads Luxirare, right? So, you may have remembered Ji Kim's chain harness top (above). Well, the one I bought yesterday is pretty much the exact same thing. And I decided, I'll fuck around in it for a month over some things in public and over nothing at fetish clubs then sell it in my last week of Londonness (that being the first week of june), so holla if you want this for 20 quid. Laziness just kicked in but I'll take a picture of it soon.

Today was quaint. Slept til late, did a bit of work, met Mistress Ivy to teach her some yoga (which we plan to keep up a couple times a week until I leave) and now am just chillin' like a villain with some pringles, tea and Season 3 of Weeds. There's only up to season 4 online so I might have to slit my wrists soon.

ON THE MAGIC SCHOOLBUS

I'm hating this 6AM shit. I had to come back because Jen did this sweet post on girlschool. My favourite pic, but it's totally worth checking out the others. Mad stylin' in welcome excess, of course, especially bitch on the far right here. duh. bastards..

Also, this is the best thing ever. From Zana Bayne's life.

ALL RIPPED UP WITH NO PLACE TO GO

Really want to go. May 16th. Dwindling funds and the month hasn't barely kicked in yet. I bought a body harness type thing with chains and stuff today at the London Alternative Market after innocently meeting some family for Italian lunch. I was really hoping to find some silk purple bondage rope. No luck. Will hold out for my perfect bundle. Okay. Back to watching Weeds. Bye.

oh ya. I got a slave today too.

I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO MAKE OF YOU SO I JUST MAKE FACES

[Bob Carlos Clark]

Thought I'd write you something else while I wait for the next episode of Weeds to load.

I'll definitely be checking out Bob's exhibition with Mistress Ivy this month at The Little Black Gallery. I am supposed to be heading back into the Skin Two office soon to help Tim choose photos for the photobook they plan to bring out later this year. So my assignment has been to compile a list of some awesome pervy photographers. Haven't actually..done my assignment but I can easily spit out a couple off the top of my head, Bob being one of my first.

ANYWAY...May started off pretty random. I went to the campus clinic after handing in all my work to get a prescription for some contraception that'll last me the summer and walked away with enough for up to 2010. Totally not complaining here. But as I was there already, I decided to mention a couple other bodily issues regarding my stomach and my stupidly weak bladder. As a result of opening my stupid big mouth, I've now been assigned a food diary for the next 3 weeks and have to go back in next week to pick up the results from some piss I gave them. *rolls eyes* I'm what you might call a seasonal hypochondriac, so adding that on top of this swine flu crap, and me thinking I can battle it with a mini bottle of hand sanitizer, just isn't working right now.

May was supposed to be chilled beyond comprehension. I mean, just yesterday I handed in something like 20,000 words of work for just one of my classes, which, may I remind you, the dissertation that everyone else is doing equates to 10,000 (why the fuck did I think a creative degree would be less of an ulcer?). Surely, after that, I deserve some quality time with NOT ONE FUCK but myself. And yet, life's a hustle and a girl wants to cruise the Cali freeways with her boyfriend this summer, so work eslewhere continues. Just got commissioned to do 3 bar reviews with a deadline for the 18th, along with a couple other writing gigs here and there. And of course I am still organizing my big sale. All this, not including the fact that everybody wants to see me before I leave and all the corner co-op's alcohol wants me to drink it and party my fucking liver away at any and every event pre-June. A food diary consisting mostly of alcohol would be quite embarassing. Yesterday's entry is already a little trimmed down by 5 drinks or so...

Other than all this ridonculousness, today was pretty laidback and awesome. Le Vampyre and I went to Wagamama for lunch. After chili squid and amai udon, I was pretty ready to head back to my bed just because I can now. But then he mentioned that he got the Gremlins DVD and then that was just totally blown out the window. So, little monsters back at his place then because he didn't have part 2, I left. Then Mistress Ivy begged me for a bit to come to Subversion tonight but as that ends at 6AM and I am typing this, that means I instead opted for back-to-back Weeds and maybe another Gu brownie (but that probably shouldn't appear in my diary too much either!). By the way, Gu brownies are cherishable goods. Get on it.

A GREAT BIG EMPTY SCENIC THING

So if I wasn't tired of my friends and family bitching about my no-show antics for graduation in July, I wouldn't be attending this event. How embarassing...

I mean, Sugababes? Yeah. I'll be 'making an appearance' at our summer ball this year with its exorbitant 50 quid tickets. Lucky for me, I don't have to spend a penny more on wardrobe for it as when I got back a suitcase of my stuff from a friend's a couple weeks ago I found an old dress stuffed in it that I bought at an Oasis sale years back when I hadn't yet banned myself from West End shopping. A lot's changed since first year. Now I have to ban myself from East end shopping. Anyways, a little help?

WHICH BAG?

WHICH SHOES? (And no Becks; a $75 shoe from Macy's and a £12 one from Primark are not the same thing despite slight similarities. VERY slight.)
*might change the head gear for a top hat because le Vampyre said he's gonna wear his.
* fuck, I can't believe I posted this. I am soo playful and shit right now and am putting wayyy too much effort into this. I think it's because I plan to leave the country the week after and this has kind of taken over as my graduation ceremony. Cut me some slack. I'm not crying.