THE HAND INSIDE MY CRANIUM CUPS MY MIND

After 5 minutes in the store, I picked up these specifics and had to be dragged out by Panda when I saw the palm sized crucifixes (next time). Some DIY'ing is about to go underway.

The store? The grand total? $6.61.
I love Halloween.

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The Mars Volta are playing tonight. Sebastian's going. I, for one, was too busy to organize tickets. Been slaving away at my laptop all day working on my career. Now I feel lame but accomplished. Panda's finally home from shooting a music video all day. I cooked - stir fry noodles with squid. But that was hours ago and I am now cradling the hugest headache. Have eaten nothing but grapes all day, with a couple of swigs of cold soy protein vanilla chai. aarrrgghhh....

THAT DEVIANT INGREDIENT

Tim Burton's drawings, paintings, storyboards, digital and moving-image formats, puppets and maquettes, props, costumes, ephemera, sketchbooks, and cartoons exhibited, as well as 27 years worth of films being screened, at MOMA for 5 whole months?!? This is gonna be heights, no?

Even though I'm not doing back flips over his upcoming '9' movie, the man dominated a huge chunk of my pre-teen existence. Have got to find my way to San Francisco somehow. And so should you.

SONG FOR A FUTURE GENERATION

That's Karl Lagerfeld ruining my life for me. Price on Request.

I've actually been looking into buying some fancy headphones before leaving here. But I think my wallet and I will be sticking to Skullcandy.

A MUTUAL FEELING

Part of yesterday's outfit. I just really really like these two pieces: my super versatile Promod vest that my mom bought me in Abu Dhabi before I left for L.A. And, of course, my equally as versatile Kate Thompson bone and feather hair clip that Panda picked up for me at a mini festival put on by Tightrope.

I never thought I'd see the day where my mom had to drag me off on a shopping spree. But after I got rid of/sold the majority of my stuff before finishing up my degree in London, I was sartorially barren (not sure if that completely works with what I'm trying to say but it sounds perfect - meaning, I had very limited wardrobe - I like the word 'sartorial'). It was liberating while it lasted, not to be tied down by so many material things. But knowing me, that thought was easily blown out the window shortly after my mom swiped that plastic. What that fleeting thought did leave me with was the idea of shopping smart- buying less by choosing a few key pieces that could work with everything else I owned. Yes, a very old lesson, but one that needs to be re-learned every single time.

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Ate dinner at Oinkster (try the ube milkshakes!), then stuffed myself into a PVC zippered mini in the back of the car while Panda drove, and worked last night at Club Hell. No, I wasn't one of the gorgeous gals giving saline injections or mummy-wrapping some eager attendee. But I worked. LAWeekly has a slideshow up already.

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UPDATE: Funny how after posting this, I noticed that on my friend's blog, she picked up a vere lovely feather creation herself recently that definitely contends. Hmmm, me thinks you win, lovely. Am looking for something similar myself.

FAITHFUL TO MY FREEDOM IN A SELFISH KINDA LIFE

2 pictures from yesterday.

Nothing that isn't already understood has to be said about Kiki de Montparnasse, but if you were ever looking for the best ice cream in the world and got tired of doing so, it's because you never encountered Rose & Saffron Ice Cream on the corner of Wilkins and Westwood in Los Angeles. It's this humble little Persian ice cream place with the best flavours.

I don't really do ice cream but when I do, green tea ice cream is my choice. It's been my favourite flavour over the last year or so. Before that, I would occasionally reward myself with a scoop of Tiramisu from Oddono's in South Kensington. Failing that, I'd welcome kulfi (Indian ice cream) every now and then, but that's hard to come by. Minus those three, I would never eat ice cream.

But then last night, Sebastian suggested Panda and I go to that Persian ice cream place. I tried 1 scoop of Saffron & Pistachio (thanks for the tip, Seb!) and 1 White Rose (still obsessed with rose). And you know how in that movie The Ramen Girl how the guy had magic in his ramen soup and could make his customers burst into tears or burst out laughing etc.? (there's another even better movie like this that I can't remember) Anyways, the point is, I went through a similar experience eating that ice cream. I fell in love with life. I sat outside (freezing and inclusive of mountainous goosebumps) but just sat there anyway and peacefully watched life go by. It was beautiful. I ended up asking Panda to buy me an extra scoop and nearly took a tub home. I'm going back for that tub next time we're in town.

WHO NEEDS MONEY WHEN YOU LOOK LIKE THAT?

'Summer Sluttin'' it WhoWhatWear style. These are my two absolute fave looks from their July Fashion Story; the 2nd more than the first (kinda over leather jackets - there's too much of a suffocating hype over them and it's too hot to wear one anyway, esp. since I wear black everyday).

Today's plan was to visit the Erotic Museum but I arrived here on H'wood blvd. and it's fucking shut tight. Is there something I don't know about? So now I'm wifi'ing it up at some cafe. Gonna haunt the shops afterwards, starting with American Apparel. Can't buy anything, and yet not fazed. I haven't bought a single fashion item since I got here over a month ago. I've been super good in that department. But for sure, since I've been eyeballing shit for ages, I know exactly what I want, and when my trip's over, if I have a little cash left, I'll collect my prizes.

BODY OF LIES

All my girlie bits are seemingly healthy. I guess it's just that Cerazette isn't a very loving pill. But, a mon avie, it looks like I'll be having a demon child for Christmas. And yet, new French gyno informed me, in her effortlessly sleepy-sexy manner, that I have nothing to worry about. Trust, I shall.

My mom told me not to post my breasts and vagina on the internet. She says it's none of anybody's business.

Anyway, didn't end up going to the Sophomore Pop-Up Store Opening Reception last night. Just couldn't be arsed to put on THAT face for the evening and remain unnoticed among a see of girls in American Apparel, just ready and waiting to step on a catwalk. As I was heading upstairs to shower, I could only picture myself at the event swigging less than half-heartedly from a can of Red Bull (still sober, can you believe!?) and mentally willing my legs not to crumple beneath me in their Topshop hooker heels. Plus, food seems to be priority these days, which means, me and bulges A through Q can't be seen at killer events like that, and only at Walmart. So all through Friday and Saturday, I banished carbs.

Speaking of food, it's Ramadan now. Last year, I fasted because I was back home in the UAE and it's so much easier to do there obviously. Firstly, I have no life there so my days consist of snoozing. Secondly, everyone's doing it so you get pressured into it because seeing perfect arabic women not eating a scrap makes you feel pretty fucking obese. Thirdly, the food can't compare to California and fourthly, even if it could, you couldn't order or buy a single morsel, and aren't allowed to eat in public til after 6pm. By that hour, I'm back on snooze number 2. So I partook in fasting, in a weird, anorexic sort of way that made me feel accomplished. I also love how their days are tailored around the fact that they can't eat. Businesses close up, school is scarce...really, you can't go wrong during Ramadan in Abu Dhabi, which only makes me respect my muslim friends from back home in Trinidad even more; dealing with us munching away in front of them during lunch, and yet, still hanging around us without fainting. But anyway, I'm not about to elaborate on that...

I love that I am in charge of a space where the essays can range from breast and cervical cancer to fashion to anorexia to islamic culture to effortlessly embarassing myself...

I think I'm just getting way too used to writing in short 140 character spurts on Twitter, hence this wayward monologue. The intended conclusion of the post was that, last I checked (July), I don't have breast or cervical cancer.

Logging out.

ALWAYS SEARCHING FOR THE THRILL OF IT

Glad I caught this on Jen's page because I was about to head upstairs and ravage my man...or something, then step out for the evening. I guess I'll catch the bus into town and check this out as Panda says he's planting himself on the sofa tomorrow for some football game (ew?) so he won't be able to drive me.

I'm trying to figure out Twitter. All that @-ing at someone. It looks like foul language. Twitter looks a mess.

Anyways, we're on the list for a pervy party tonight. Checking out The Batcave LA too, hopefully.

I'm in a really good mood after healthy, minimal eating, laps in the pool and tennis. Here, have a song.

I was giving my resume a makeover and then I ended up joining Twitter. Ewww...so...there it is in the right column. Can't really promise to be very interesting on there. But, yuh know, it's there. Or you can click this picture. Whatev.

BROKEN BONES AND EXPOSED HEARTS

Just remembering a moment (the first Hoodoo Voodoo party ever).
I miss London.
A little more than a little.
Especially Fi and Becks.
Keep the bed warm for me, guys. I'll be back soon. X

SOMETIMES LOVE COMES AROUND

3 things I love right now:

#1
unagi (eel)

#2
Thai iced tea

#3
Pg. 300 of September's US Elle - a Rock and Republic look that I would rock in full at whatever cool editorial office I hope to be working in next. (too lazy to scan it even though I should, because it looks so much more perfect than this - click on him! (Dibs on the boots...in some other fantasy existence))

Otherwise, I hate contraceptive pills, the L.A. parking situation and my retardedly defunct debit card.

I have been trying to write this post all evening. Something retarded is way up with my laptop too.

Also, I've been thinking of starting a 2nd blog.

GLIDING ON A HEARTBEAT, STIRRING UP A CROWD

This is Felix Cane, an Australian Pole Dance World 2009 winner who now lives in Las Vegas working with Cirque du Soleil's 'Zumanity'.

Damn. And I already had so many other goals on my list. And it's not like they were normal either (Dune Bashing? Shibari/Kinbaku?)

And her boots coincidentally resemble the style of the hot fuckers I just posted. I think hers' trump though.

REVENGE IS SWEET

Some sick boots from a random footwear site I stumbled upon. I'm back meddling in the pervy world and working on a big piece for Skin Two while out here (to the chagrin of my mother who called yesterday to tell me I got 1st class honours). Hooray and anyway, this is my first real decently paid freelance gig. Hopefully once this pulls through, I'll have enough money to go to the Philippines in February for my friend's wedding, and for a mini break from a dry existence back home in Abu Dhabi. I have about a month left out here, which I may need to extend, depending on this article.

Going to a gig tonight for a girl whose music video Panda has offered to produce and direct and may check my friend's acoustic set tonight at some place in Little Tokyo.

In other news, after a night at The Standard Hotel partying pooltop for my friend's birthday, I realised that when I get really drunk, usually, what happens is, a really really big ass sits on my life and shits piles all over it. So the mission is to stay relatively sober for the rest of my stay here so Panda doesn't sprout anymore greys. So I won't be buying. But if you'd like to sponsor me...

IT MIGHT GET LOUD

A bit iffy about this documentary. Not really interested in what U2 dude has to say and I hear Jack White comes off as more than obnoxiously proud. But love him to shreds. And well, holing up at Jimmy Page's place and obsessing over guitars? Yeah. Intrigue entereth. Won't purchase this though (already have my eyes on the Woodstock movie). But heard about this one on the radio only yesterday. Is it showing anywhere?

Speaking of movies though, we went to see District 9 yesterday (awesome), then snuck into Ponyo (very cute, as is everything from Studio Ghibli and Miyazaki). Go see.

CHILD, IN SUMMERTIME, THE LIVING'S EASY

THE BEST! HAPPY 40TH ANNIVERSARY, WOODSTOCK! HAVE A GROOVY WEEKEND, EVERYONE!

Yesterday I followed the Woodstock: Now & Then documentary on the radio while we were driving around and then on VH1 til the wee hours. So wholesome. So lifting. It shifted me. How is it that the most beautiful people on earth were all present for this event in '69? I really don't feel very beautiful anymore, but definitely charged, and inspired, and happy. Thank you Michael Lang for a taste of what life should be. Sucks that the 2009 celebration in NYC was cancelled, but Woodstock Story has a list of stuff you should look out for this year (some of which I definitely will!). Regardless of how you celebrate, whether you pull out your feathered and fringed finest, a Who or Joplin album, a joint or some acid, a flaccid penis or a bushy vagina, whatever, you MUST MUST MUST...just love. Just be happy in the notion that peace existed, and can again. And just make sure you have the most peaceful weekend ever! A Dirty Word insists. MWAH!

[Images courtesy: woodstockstory.com & google images]

STACK 'EM HIGH AND DROP IT LOW

FUCK I love Rumi's Acne wedges (the cloudy blue version must specifically be noted too!). The last time I visited the Acne website was years and years ago and they were kind of basic and basically boring. So here we are again, and I like. A couple looks I dug:

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Also, Kings of Leon is playing The Forum on the 22nd (L.A.) and I want to go. That's all. Otherwise, it's Corona and season 5 of Weeds around these parts. I need a job.

LET'S DRINK TO HEALTH

HA! Wow. Two beauty product posts in a row. That's something new for me. My beauty regime usually consists of black liner, that clinique 3 step thing that isn't really working for me and the latest CK scent. But after my internship at Viva when they left me with a huge haul of beauty closet goodies, I started getting really experimental. My friend T-Mac left Panda a cute little bag of girlie freebies to give me and I came across this Wine Hydrating Mask thing by Arcona, which, (after only 3 uses, I admit) I really don't think is doing anything to improve my looks, but it makes me smell like Sangria!!! And I love Sangria!!!

I'm hoping the tiny freebie pot I have is a sample and it's not actually that size and going for $38 because I think I might stock up to take back home. I mean, I'm sure that if it claims to do all these things that it'll enhance at least one aspect of my unimpressive skin (which, for some reason, all of my friends on facebook have been saying is radiant lately).

-nourishes and replenishes dry, dehydrated and depleted skin
-stimulates cellular renewal
-reduces wrinkles
-firms and smoothes by accelerating skin's natural defenses with grape seed and wine extracts and reserveratrol
-revitalizes skin with borage, macadamia nut and carrot oils, shea butter and vitamin E, leaving skin supple, soothed and balanced
-repairs, refreshes and refines skin with hyaluronic acid, the most effective moisture-binding humectant

Has anyone ever heard of or used Arcona's products and been instantly whipped into a bona-fide babe? Curious to know if I should continue dumping this on my face or if to just quit while I'm ahead and sniff the pot for Sangria-scented satisfaction...

CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE

Pretty sure I used that blog title already but those words are too perfect to pass up for the post at hand. I was due to re-stock on perfume since my handful of CK's, DKNY Delicious and Burberry have all finally run out.

So when I saw the introduction to D&G's clever new fragrances inspired by tarot cards in a copy of this month's Elle, which was, as usual, a forever shocking disappointment except for that article where some chick chops off all her hair in exchange for a quaint pixie cut she found on The Sartorialist, and was then dumped by her boyfriend as a result, I took too much notice (maybe because I felt wronged and deprived of editorial substance). The cards:

LE BATELEUR (the magician)
Indicates someone with an open heart; an incurable romantic who is intensely desired by others, aka 'the seducer'.

L'IMPERATRICE (the empress)
Most tarot readers believe this card symbolizes a person with great power and strength of character. According to the designers, "She's a star, magnetic, energetic, and charismatic - a real attention-grabber."

L'AMOUREUX (the lovers)
Represents a 'charmer' who knows what she wants and how to get it; someone who is provocative, resourceful, and passionate but also distinctly cool.

LA ROUE DE LA FORTUNE (the wheel of fortune)
Representative of luck and change. This one's for adventurous types, 'players' who enjoy surprises and rolling the dice of life.

LA LUNE (the moon)
Signifies a 'dreamer' who is in touch with her creative side, an alluring and ethereal free spirit. Like the moon, she is radiant, inspiring, and mysterious.

I think La Lune is me, but then again, one does choose a perfume for one's personal scent of choice and not for one's star-written destiny, right...? Hence, I opted for old familiars revamped: CKIN2U Heat and one of the trusty CK Summer's.

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Wedding this weekend. We stayed at Paris last night, ate dinner at Cheesecake Factory, where I inhaled THE MOST amazing portabello mushroom (in place of a patty) burger and then I got Panda to buy me one of those ridonculously tall, totally Vegas-type glasses of pina colada in the shape of an Eiffel Tower. After much disappointment in the alcoholic content of that big fucking drink, we opened up a couple Coronas in the room and watched Miike's Asian Western 'Sukiyaki Western Django', which I bought Panda for his birthday, along with Tropic Thunder.

DEATHWATCH

The 3rd issue of Coilhouse is out, and yet I still have none of the others garnishing my non-existent coffee table for lack of a credit card. I really really want to write for these guys and have been reading them since I started blogging (the first blog around). But hey! I'm in L.A.! Ain't so hard for you guys to fling a copy over the fence this time...

FOR EVERY PERSON I'VE TRIED TO BE THERE'S ANOTHER DEAD INSIDE

I'm in Vegas. We just spent an embarassingly alcohol-infused weekend at the presidential suite at Suncoast and now I'm watching Teen Titans with Panda's 5 year old nephew, and of course, Raven was all I sucked up.

I'm wishing I could OD on a cup of halo halo (and believe me, one cup will do it), as well as wishing I hadn't flipped off everyone at Panda's birthday party during a gruelling round of King's Cup (in obvious laughing jest, but apparently not) and offended several family members and friends. And still, I've got a week left of Mother and Sister Panda time that all leads up to the climactic event at the week's end, otherwise known as Panda's cousin's wedding; and more pressingly, the wedding reception (for which I will be looking smashing, while being bashed behind my back about whether or not I will get that smashed again). It's very distressing; especially with the colour and culture issues annoyingly peek-a-booing all over the place.

But what can I do about it at this stage but keep a brave and pretty face and NOT pull out my PVC mini skirt.