SATISFY MY SOUL

How much better can it get!? I can't believe it took me a week to figure out to pair my black and gold vintage coffin bag bought on Brick Lane the other day with my mom's old black and gold sequined bustier? And with my bowler hat...? I think an outfit is finally shaping together for the Skin Two Yearbook Launch on the 25th...albeit non-fetish-ish (<--- haha).

I am definitely gathering an impressive black and gold accessories collection. I'll do a post on this some other time. Sleepy time.

ME, MY YOKE AND I

I like songs that set the tone of a day; influence the atmosphere around me. Walking around East London just off Brick Lane during my lunch hour working at Yoga mag, seeing but not hearing the hustle and bustle of Indian Immigrants selling their trade, glittering saris and bright fabrics in the sunlight, colourful displays of healthy fruit and veg, an old woman grabbing at her sequined skirts with her henna'd hands and running after a giggling toddler with gold bracelets on his arm. This song is perfect for that; people and culture watching. One of the guys I sit next to at the office was on a cigarette break outside and I caught him watching me puzzled. I was beaming with my headset hugging my head.

I had to sub-edit a piece at the office yesterday. One of the issues involved was the fact that everything is inter-related. This post works well with that.

This song is one of Gustavo Santaolalla's (my favourite composer these days) and is from Motorcycle Diaries (Che Guevara's road story- and also one of my favourites). It's been on repeat on my iPod for about a week now. I find it so calming but it also makes me miss traveling around Spanish countries, and keeps taking me back to my dream of living in Mexico for a few months as an impoverished writer in a motel with a leafy green pool. I miss Costa Rica so damn much...Anyway, fittingly, this week was my last chance to see Che Pt. 1 (Pt. 2 has been out for a considerable amount of time now) so Tuesday night I went to watch it in Leicester Square. I felt I owed it to myself to figure out why the hell as a youth in Trinidad, I blindly embraced all things Che Guevara without knowing squat about him save for the fact that he was quite good-looking on the t-shirts my peers wore. I have a t-shirt, a mug, a ring...and up to Tuesday, I hadn't really figured the guy out. So, need I say more than Benicio del Toro as Che? Think not. So round two next week.

I think it a sign if you encounter a man's name twice in one night. Che Pts. 1 and 2 director, Steven Soderbergh appeared within the pages of the book I was reading on the bus home from the movie; in which his Sex, Lies and Videotape was cited. I shall explore the man's portfolio some more as requested by the forces around me that are drawing me towards him.

Speaking of that book, there are just some books you feel so damn good about reading in public, where everyone can see it. What I was reading is one such. I went to the library today to pay some late fees and re-issue some books. And the stately gentleman behind the desk reminded me:

S.G.: And the other one you've borrowed is due back on the 19th.
ME: Which one is that?
S.G.: uhhh...'Bitch: In Praise of Difficult Women' by Elizabeth Wurtzel
ME: hahaha (pointing at him) that was funny. Okay, thanks!

I also love Elizabeth Wurtzel (Prozac Nation lady). She's so hot too. My God. And such a feminist bitch! The essays in that book are quite angrily thorough. From famed bible bitch Delilah to Patti Smith, Courtney Love and fierce female murderers. I'm not a feminist...yet. But I definitely side with her on the alluring qualities of the bitch. And from her meandering definitions, I find myself smugly in the middle of the category.

ANYWAYS, SO...what's up with me?
Forever pestering mags and eating fat pasta dinners. Yoga. Yoga Magazine. Magazine launch party tomorrow night. A weekend of essay writing. Might give in and buy moccasins. Hair looks sexily hipster messy and needs washing. Asking my L.A. friends on Facebook to hire me while talking dirty with the boyf on Skype. Now ripping the plastic off the first ever Skin Two Yearbook and jumping into bed with it. C'est tout and good night.

QUIETLY UNSTOPPABLE

[www.imsosuredude.com]

I think I want something more.

Tonight:
Everybody Wants to Rule the World- Tears for Fears
Everyday is Like Sunday- Morrissey

YOU'VE GOT ME UP AGAINST THE WALL

Haha. I thought this image found on google was funny.

RIGHT! So Skin Two posted up this cool interview with bondage expert Esinem (har har) that I sub-edited. And because I got this really short notice call about a bondage workshop going on today, I couldn't attend so I went over to Esinem's website to check out his rates (and I can't afford it- no surprise here). AND THEN, his website had a banner on top about The Bondage Awards. Checked that out, and I realised I am getting so deep into this thing that I actually know of people in the bondage scene that I could and would vote for.

Like, without a doubt, after admiring his work in Dave Naz's photo book L.A. Bondage (which I was able to keep after reviewing), Damon Pierce is so up there as a winner in the Best Rigger category (one day this will be me). I did a post on some of my favourite scans/riggings from the book, and I scanned some more a while back for my novel's research portfolio so expect some more awesome knot-and-tie photography up here in the not-too-distant future. No doubt, people who have won in the past must include Midori and Chanta Rose (whose Inescapable Rope Bondage class I attended in December). Here's one of Damon's riggings. I assure you, he's done WAY BETTER, but...PURPLE ROPE! I also find this funny because it's yoga.

There's also a best writer category, which made me laugh, because my novel has aspects of Bondage in it (a lot!) and at this very moment, my editing group is going over the first three chapters and will be giving me feedback on them on Monday. Really interested to see what they think...haha. But no doubt past winners have probably included Violet Blue and/or some of the people in Best Sex Writing and Best Women's Erotica, whose 2009 issues I've just reviewed as well.

I don't know who would win Best Photographer, but, once again, Dave Naz would probably be mentioned. Speaking of Bondage photography this Mario Sorrenti fashion editorial was heights too (knew I'd end up bringing this up again - too good!). I also like Nobuyoshi Araki (sucker for Japan).

Just talked to my friend Mistress Ivy about the rope thing today. It's also a Play Party, so I guess part of me is glad I'm not going. Play's more of a couples thing, or something I would do only with Mistress Ivy because I'm only comfortable with her, being new to the scene and all. I miss my boyfriend. Anyways, Mistress Ivy and I are definitely going to the Skin Two Yearbook Launch Party on the 25th!!! So stoked for this...and need to find an outfit. But I'm guessing the PVC mini comes out again.

THAT'S THE WAY I LIKE IT BABY, I DON'T WANNA LIVE FOREVER

Vintage. £12. Brick Lane. These days I love quirky pieces that are so wrong they become so right. This is hideous. It's my favourite. As it's reminiscent of a coffin, I feel like Emily Dickinson of the 21st Century; courting death and shit. All I need now is a pair of brothel creepers. Ji Kim (OF COURSE) has the creepers (customized) and THE perfect dress for my bag. I swear I fall more and more in love with that woman every time I visit.

Speaking of creepers, check out these fuckin' MAD Rupert Sanderson renditions that I just found by accident:

...oh for just over 500 quid.

Last night was interesting. I had a feeling it would be one of those nights...
-was introduced to this Norweigan guy who is now waiting for my boyfriend and I to split up

-ran into this girl in the bathroom queue who said she remembered me from a reading I did of one of my short stories. Said it was amazing, that she's a fan, and while we twisted our legs together in pelvic despair, we discussed my work in great depth. Interesting...

-ran into my yoga/ex boxing/ex self defence teacher, who by night is a university party bouncer/security man person thing, and we discussed what 'being on a break with your boyfriend' really meant, and how well I executed my shoulder stand. Interesting...

-listened to another friend try to explain to me rather scientifically how lovely I was, then hobbled around with his drunk weight on one shoulder, which then resulted in him throwing me to the ground. Then profuse, severe apologies with too many kisses, and me running away, and bouncer man friend yogi guy bounding over and going, 'say the word and I'll kick him out!'. Well cool, but...interesting...

-coming home and finding that my first preteen boyfriend Kermit has messaged me and is off to Trinidad and Tobago for Spring Break and he and his sister are playing it so down and out that they're sleeping in a car. And I AM NOT HAPPY ABOUT THIS! OH MY GOD! YOU ARE A WHITE TOURIST FROM MARYLAND, DUDE! Anyways, he has some of my friends' numbers (please take care of him).

I am napping.

FOREVER AND A DAY

I'm going ou-hout tonight. Have a song...


REMEMBER THAT?! Best damn thing.

This weekend is like:

-BOP aka homosexually retarded college party held in a gymnasium on a Friday night. At least my friends petitioned for a second room of tunes UNLIKE the cheese and chart hit variety. This is all very prom. I've forgotten how to party so I didn't even pick up a pre-session bottle of anything and I can't be arsed to make an effort so dad's oversized flannel shirt is coming out with some vans and a body con mini. I guess that is making an effort but without making one.

-reviewing 3 books: 2 for Skin Two, one for Yoga Magazine

-meeting these two girls Kat and Mizu for a threesome, and probably lunch along Brick Lane

-bugging more mags to publish this piece I just wrote

-reading and quote gathering for my end of year Business of Writing essay

-being depressed because California Dreamin' by the Mamas and Papas is stuck in my head and it's so cold and it's so far away and it's so not California.

-sleeping blissfully on a Sunday minus a hangover and plus the clean sheets. Pancakes, eggs, tea, PJ's, everything!

I tried hand-washing some stuff yesterday and my hands are so soft and spoilt rotten that i have a huge cut on my finger now. FROM RUBBING CLOTHES TOGETHER!!! I'm making a very artsy little cast for it.

end.

SHAKE YOUR HALO DOWN

Fuck it. I'm taking the focus off of Fall collections on the runways because I'm currently way more into this:

Who else but Obesity and Speed?
They should do something with Tournament and Orin Brecht (that illustration being my all-time favourite right now...since November).

I'VE BEEN TRYING HARD TO DO WHAT'S RIGHT, BUT YOU KNOW I COULD STAY HERE ALL NIGHT

And now the all-nighter can commence. (I love how my Brita container of water is behind the killer caffeine product)

This country is so jacked. I mean, who shuts Starbucks at half 7? I am just about waking up then.

Employee: Ah you made it. We thought you weren't coming. You're very late.
Me: Yeah, I know. I was freaking out on the bus, like 'Nooo they're gonna close the door in my face!'
Employee: Oh, no. We were waiting for you. Grande Iced Chai Tea Latte?
Me: Make it a venti, actually.
Employee: Look at you! Upgrading and stuff.
Me: ha...

LOSER!!!!!

Sorry, I love pictures of piles of books. These are piles of stuff I am currently dealing with this month.

Tonight on the agenda:

-write up Kate Cusack interview
-work on magazine article proposal for Business of Writing class
-work on book proposal letter for Developing the Novel 2 class
-read some more of 'Me and My Slaves' and make notes for review for Skin Two
-Edit and polish up review of 'Secret Identity: The Fetish Art of Superman's Co-Creator Joe Shuster' for Skin Two
-re-draft chapters 2 and 3 of novel

Whatever else:
-I TOTALLY SAW YOU RIFLING THROUGH MY KITCHEN CUPBOARDS, BITCH!

-I had a really vivid nightmare of one of my oldest friends telling me my boyf cheated on me with her. So vivid, even after I woke up I was hating him. Told him about it and actually got teary-eyed. I actually had to remind myself that he had only met her once, at her birthday party at Funky Buddha years ago, and we were with each other all night...and that IT WAS A DREAM!!!

- I am up one pants size while every time I talk to Panda online he is either on his way to the gym or has just come back from it. It makes me look like shit because our couple status is (or was?): Me as the amazingly hot exotic girl with a hard to place accent, him as the short Asian geek who I barely gave a second glance in the beginning. This is probably the only reason I am glad I am not in L.A. with him yet. If it persists, I'll start vomiting in May (just kidding...)

-It's 9pm and I just missed my last chance to eat. Perfect. (just kidding...)

HYPNOTIZE

I saw the Notorious movie this past weekend when I went to visit my cousin and her baby. I don't know why I'm talking about this because the movie wasn't something I would've originally set out to see. I guess it's because it reminded me of this scene. I have a ridiculous love for 10 Things... I know the entire script, Kat was what I had set out to be in life (this literary shrew, driving this chewed up car, scowling, table dancing when life got too hard and passing out in a gorgeous guy's arms, then vomiting in it, but vomiting in a way that had him coming back for more - (happened)). Achieved full stop

So, does this count as a post? I started work experience at Yoga magazine so my days are stacked. Hence sorry excuse for a post. Nah, I think this is a killer post. Highlight of my day. OMG NO! The highlight was discovering Jala Neti, and vomiting up water and things like that (filing at the Yoga office).

WELL HERE IT COMES, HERE COMES THE NIGHT

Oldie but goodie. Ya, I've been doin' that on a Sunday night; going through old photos. Me (middle) and some friends back home at one of the most over-hyped clubs there called Zen. Intense face, yes. Force fed scotch all night. My friend is a weekend DJ there and, for some reason, visiting home again makes me a celebrity to my friends so they pretty much hook me up. Well, his free drinks card is pretty limited; hence scotch; hence this. And yes, that is my best friend's foot on the countertop.

Some things I am grateful for:

1) Having spare foreign currency in my wallet. Today my card refused to give me any money possibly due to some disturbance in the chip, said the overly informed Tube station assistance lady. Luckily I was stuck in the tourist centre of the world (Piccadilly Circus) so this very nice man behind the counter at the currency exchange totally understood when I shoved 6 US dollars under the glass and said 'Ya. I need to get home.' I laid off on the yuan, dirhams and TT dollars, thinking that a bit much, and just legged it after the next bus with the four warm pound coins in my hand. I guess HSBC missed having me come in to complain all the time. Congratulations guys, you managed to stay un-fucked for... 3 consecutive months? What number card is this I am going to have to order now? 3?

2) Finally acquiring my mom's fuck-you-I-can-have-this-if-I-want-to attitude. So I emailed up Yoga magazine again after their 'prejudiced' rejection and the editor found that impressive so I start Tuesday (I thought that only happened in movies). Panda, I am glad you find that sexy. It's a shame there's nothing we can do about that as the Atlantic Ocean and several other countries render us impossibly distanced on the bed I am imagining.

3) The fact that I didn't get so wasted last night at the Big Chill House that that wasn't my high heel shoe on top of the roof of a bus stop shelter this morning. Cinderella, a Londoner's rendition? When are you blonde drunkorexic hoes going to realise how lovely shoes and a liver are? Bleh, I haven't realised the latter yet. But anyways, point is that wasn't my shoe. I was wearing Vans. (How cool would it be if homegirl followed my blog and I was able to help her find her lone fugly shoe by calling her a blonde drunkorexic hoe?)

4) For candid acquaintances like Leo (cousin Becks' boyfriend). "Do you know how difficult it is to make someone in another country want you so bad for your skills that they feel the need to go through the laborious process of petitioning you for a work visa? Does your boyfriend know that? I don't get it. Why doesn't he just marry you? It's not like you can't get divorced straight afterwards." *shrugs*

I'VE BEEN TURNING SCREWS ALL MY LOVING LIFE

3 looks from Halston Fall '09 that I am currently ogling, saving the best for last. Dying to get my hands on that long black coat, and am determined to find long 'flowy' black things this year. I will be scouring charity shops from next week for a long slinky plain black skirt and/or a similar plain black dress, both of which I will be wearing with my new Vans and/or my silver flat Grecian sandals from Zara (depending on the occasion), and topping it off with one of Kate's unbelievably gorgeous zipper accessories. Of course the only way to secure this entire look is if after proposing the interview I just did with Kate it gets a deal with a mag, and provides me with a handsome fee. More on that some other time.

ALSO, that mag I posted a few posts back, with Beth Ditto on the front that Fi's upchuck reflexes are having trouble with, it's amazing. It's new. It's a bi-annual creation from Conde Nast that I will be getting my hands on every single time. It's a hippie splattering of everything to love right now; basically it's like Conde Nast has been hiding this long lost twin sister whose really into structured chaos and beautiful mess and doesn't have a flag pole up her ass. Love is my new favourite. For sure. In this first edition, you'll find: design scenesters from St. Martin's College of Art and Design, Beth Ditto's tits and unshaved arm pits obviously, Mert Alas and Marcus Piggott's beautiful candid nightclub pictures of Kate Moss out of her element and obviously drugged, models who don't look like models who are the models of today, Jethro in a killer Rob London latex one piece, Iggy Pop being a retard in Balmain, Amazing editorial featuring Pam Hogg's winning shiny rock-star jumpsuits (think The Darkness and Velvet Goldmine), Sofia Coppola, Pixie Geldof, Courtney Love blah blah...all with cool unfazed photography. I want to be a part of this.

I'M BACK ON THE TRACK CUZ I'M BEATIN' THE FLACK

A magazine called me up today, and after a successful interview, I was turned down because I showed up there black.

HAHA.

Not really. But I suppose what I'm about to tell you is similar. My mother will be pleased (sarcasm) to know that already at 20, I am lessening my chances in the magazine writing world because I am published with a fetish/sex magazine.

My Yoga Magazine interview on Wednesday was the best writing job interview I've had in my short non-existent writing career. Today, while writing up a review for 'Best Sex Writing 2009', I got the call from Yoga (literally half an hour ago) with the decision ringing away on the other end. She said, if I stop writing for Skin Two, I can get work experience with them. Sex apparently is not something cool to be associated with if you're going to write about yoga/health/spirituality; not even for editorial work experience. Pardon me for assuming that yogis and spiritualists had sexual organs and desires.

Well I just got offered to write for Skin literally a month and a half ago as soon as I came back from Christmas Break. Tim had missed me. Being in Abu Dhabi, I couldn't even offer to take some of the sex merch away with me to work on because they would be confiscated, and I castigated, by authorities and my father (like no kidding - when I interned at a mag in Dubai, we were quietly passing around a pirated copy of Sex and the City taking turns watching it because the country was in limbo about whether or not to bring the movie over).

I said yes to Tim's offer, even though writing for their website meant they couldn't pay me. I've been on the wildest journey of self-discovery working with Skin Two, and I have yet to find a job that's more fun. So I told Yoga (in the nicest way possible because I really respect them) that I wasn't going to quit that anytime soon. It started out as me grabbing any kind of magazine work experience I could get, and it turned into an honest job associated with some of the most broad-minded and warm people I've ever met; and I quickly accumulated an impressive portfolio. Skin Two has changed my life, both sexually and mentally, as well as professionally (career wise). They are the ones who gave me a platform to jump off of with my writing career, and for that I am absolutely forever grateful. Home girl at the Yoga office even admired my writing talent and style when I presented her with a writing sample review on this book.

I'm surprised how far I have come with rejection. I am unfazed and am still typing away at my other writing jobs, while cuddling my cousin's baby on one hip. I almost welcome it because I have a hunch that I might've taken up too many offers and obligations. Being a newfound workaholic, I just can't and won't get enough until I've crashed, it seems. I mean, I am out here in fucking Catford on a mini-break from the bustling city, chilling with family, and yet my bag is packed with books for review and my faithful laptop.

[BACK TO THE MAGAZINE, KARA!] I won't say what I really want to say about that because I understand her fear, and she was completely nice about it, even offering the experience to me at a later date if I ever did quit Skin. She is protecting her magazine, fair enough. But, at the end of the day, sex is omnipresent and I know, even if she doesn't know it yet, that she has her own sexual fetish waiting to be unleashed, and so do her readers. Fetishism and exploring your sexuality is never a bad thing. Never EVER could be. I wish people would understand that it goes hand in hand with a lot of aspects of your life. I never wrote anything sleazy for Skin Two, and they are certainly not associated with sleazy. They are the most tasteful, professional sex magazine I have ever seen; and the reason I am now a reader is not because I write for them, but because they have balls. They write about what people are afraid to write about. And that's the kind of writer I want to be. And they support individuality and socially and culturally taboo ideas (which are wrongly accused).

So if, in order to advance my career as a writer, I have to quit one writing gig to land another, that doesn't really add up or work for me. I want it all, and I know I can get it all. It's just that in order to do that, sacrifices have to be made.

BECAUSE THE NIGHT BELONGS TO US

CUH-RAY-ZINESS! I suppose it's fitting that Panda and I are on a break right now because I am busy as fuck with all kinds of amazing projects and it just keeps getting better and better, which basically means, busier and busier. I'm definitely liking being a workaholic though, and liking that I don't have to moan over our last bickering session on Skype. We had a really great talk last night (early this morning), hours before I had to wake up for my interview for work experience with Yoga Magazine. So, that went really well (the conversation and the interview). I should hear back tomorrow from the latter. She was really impressed with my writing, thinks I'm talented and she plans to really work me if I get the position; like send me out to interview yogis and shit, actually work on pieces for publication in their mag etc. etc. Beats what Tatler told me last week, "You're basically going to be serving coffee and sorting mail." Tatler? On the 3rd floor of the Vogue House? Really guys?? Anyways, I won't lie and say I don't hope I get work experience with them too. Brings me one step closer to Vogue and the Fashion Empire in the sky.

So, the interview was funny because I brought in some writing samples. One was an unpublished piece I did as a trial for the job of bar and club reviewer for ViewLondon. I was waiting to hear back from ViewLondon about whether it was suited to their site or not. When I got home from the interview, ViewLondon is like:

"I’ve finally managed to edit your review and it is now live on the site - http://www.viewlondon.co.uk/clubs/trash-palace-review-56201.html

You’ll notice that I’ve made almost no edits to the review. I was extremely impressed by your sample and loved your style. You provided lots of details – which held up under a fact check – and really got to the mindset of the venue. I loved the first sentence of The Venue section and your Last Word summing up, in particular. It was by far one of the best samples I’ve had in…

Of course, I’m happy to say that your application was successful and I’d love to offer you a place on my official View London reviewing team – welcome aboard!!"

So now I get paid to go out. Ace.
So, this is a stack of mags I took home with me today after the interview, for research purposes. I pitched an idea to Scatlet magazine about fetish stuff and they are up for reading it so it looks like my career as a freelancer is about to begin. Might as well get it right.

I love coming across magazines I've never seen before; especially when they're printed on really nice paper and it's not cluttered or jaded because they're fresh in the game. They pay attention to sleek design and just totally nail it. I do give away my overflowing copies of Elle and Vogue eventually but when it comes to the brilliantly packaged mags like i-D, Dazed and Confused and these I picked up, I feel like they're almost on par with coffee table reads, and keep them for quite a while. Really excited to go through these.

As for Fashion Week, I usually save that for the meticulous fashion blogs out there that do such a great job gushing and raving about RTW this and Resort and Cruise that. As for me, I ain't gonna give you a complete rundown. I just don't have the time (love saying this). All I know about New York Fashion Week so far is that I love Alexander Wang to death but he just didn't nail it for me this time compared to his past collections. Don't get me wrong, it was great, but it wasn't one of the jaw-droppers of old. I was way more into this collection by some lady I never heard of called Behnaz Sarafpour. WAAAYYY MOOOREEE. I can't believe these 4 particulars, namely the gradient fur coat. Amazing colour. I think I like green right now...

Anyway, my friend is totally nagging me to come over already. I'm going to another block on campus to watch movies, BS around and drink. Have a good week! If you try to make it better than mine, you might just kill yourself so...don't bother. x

THE UNCHANGED AND THE UNCHANGEABLE

Panda and I are on a break.

WEDNESDAY:
Interview at Yoga Magazine
Movie 'hang' at friend's flat (drink)

THURSDAY:
Lunch at TGIF for friend's re-re-scheduled birthday (drink)
Escape to Catford to see cousin and new baby

FRIDAY:
Knock on Bob Marley's aunt's door with my tape recorder in hand and try to get her to let me in with my Caribbean accent
Get dragged off by cousin to some club called Ink (drink)

SATURDAY:
Back to London
21st Birthday Party for Becks at The Big Chill House (drink)

SUNDAY:
Check out the Japanese Art Festival in Richmond for a bit
Friend's birthday hang in Central (drink)

BE PERILOUSLY SAD. AND DRUNK.

P.S. They changed my picture on the Kill City page (no. 6). I don't prefer it face-wise but that's the shirt they sent me (Panda took that picture of me...there's a whole photoshoot where that came from. Was looking at it today- shut up). I also got some killer stained jeans (the pewter colour) from them in the post the other day. Looks more like a really musty faded purple though, which makes it all the more amazing (THANKS!).

I'D GIVE MY BODY TO BE BACK AGAIN, IN THE REST OF THE ROOM

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THE POWER GAMES AND BRIBES ALL LOBBYING FOR A PIECE OF ASS, SO THIS IS WHERE IT HAPPENS

NO WAY! Jen from Gnarlitude is such a winner. Look at these amazing boots at $20 and that gorgeous fucking Alexander Wang zipper skirt going for $18! Okay, so I thought my Honour one was cheap, but that's a fucking hit and run right there. If I could get it, I will, but I don't have a paypal account. So lucky you.

Her skirt (yours)
My skirt (from Honour)

DAMNIT! I thought I had one on her lol. *bows down* I guess the only upside is that I already have my own version of it, it's fucking hot and I don't have to fight for hers on ebay along with like...every single cool fashion forward person, and then cry over losing it to one of them.

And because we know I love O&S, I gotta say, this is harsh as fuck. What a bunch of cum rags! I'm probably not gonna shop at Forever 21 ever again; and you shouldn't either! Head over to Obesity and Speed and get yours now!

I GET MY KICKS FROM WATCHING PEOPLE RUNNING TO AND FRO

I listened to this all weekend. Still am. Sometimes I cried, sometimes I just sat back and enjoyed being alive to hear it. You might remember it from Babel (that soundtrack is one of my absolute favourites, mostly because of Gustavo Santaolalla's arrangements, like the closing piece 'Bibo No Aozora' ...what Limewire named it, not me, so sorry for any misinterpretation). I have a thing for movie scores and soundtracks. My iPod is considerably packed. I am also really getting back into acoustic guitar and wish I hadn't stopped playing it. It's just in the move from Trinidad to Abu Dhabi, somehow, an entire guitar got lost. I will probably invest in another after graduation though.

Anyways, this post is just...to make sure you know I am still around. Nothing amazing has happened lately. I have lots of gathered finds from New York Fashion Week to show you, but I try to post things in a varied manner because, even though there are far more fashion posts than others, I'd like there to be a little something for everyone at A Dirty Word, whether you're a perv who likes bondage, someone who shares similar interests in reading/writing, metal and other great music like the track above, enjoys my inane postings because it's a relief from the things you read in your office and on the tube or you are just stalking me and waiting for me to accidentally slip my address. Another reason for those last few sentences is because I realised I am building up a small male following here, not including Panda (or the gay one), and that is slightly embarassing, but also very cool, so, I'm trying harder to balance the ship. Hello to the newbies like Sebastian! (bet he didn't know I was going to do that- I'll allow him to respond with a stream of dirty words if he likes :p).

I'm just sitting here eating some Uncle Ben's 3 minute microwaveable risotto with a mini can of coke (you know how much I like those). Now that the can's done and it's approaching the witching hour, I've switched to a very cheap glass or two of red wine. I am reading 2009's copy of 'Best Women's Erotica' because I am reviewing it for Skin Two, and I'm finding that it's actually quite decent. If you're into Erotica, you should definitely pick this up (but wait for my review to come out first on the Skin Two website, read it, AND THEN buy it). Alternatively, if having to spend money in this day and age's current crisis makes you vomit, then check out my amazingly talented and beautiful lecturer's erotica here. I've been meaning to post about her for ages, not only because I'm a fan of her and her work (she once interviewed Prince!), but also because she's a fan of mine and has been one of the biggest inspirations so far to it (yeah, I can be big-headed, but I find sometimes it helps). In other sex-related news (Oh God here goes...) I wrote this, and down here's my silly little biog to go with it). I'll have you know it's been edited a bit and sorry, in advance.

Rewind a bit to when I was speaking of money woes, this guy is about to kill himself; obviously. Why am I the only one who sees that? Or did he kill himself already?

And on other men, Panda and I are not doing so well recently. I think we're both tense about this L.A. move thing and we've been having big fights about it. I know for one, I am really stressing. So we've decided to limit our talking to emails every now and then so we don't rip each other's throats out "face to face"; face to face in quotations because as we're long distance, that could only mean video chat on Skype. (BUT I LOVE YOU!). Good.

Maybe there's more to post tomorrow.

STRAIGHT UP, READY TO GO

[Facehunter]

BLOGASM! I can't even believe this outfit, namely that furry warm number. I want to ask her if I can come under it too. If I owned nothing but that to cover my body, I would be just cool...

I'LL GET US BACK TOGETHER AT HEART

Text messages...
Becks: I just walked past Henry Holland!!!
Me: I did once too, in Victoria Station. And this is what Fi said. 'He has no talent!'

Sorry Becks. Bad Mood entereth. But I did run into him. I found the old post (paragraph 2). But Fi's right. And this is what the big ole fat guy in Two Stupid Dogs said. 'Isn't that cute...BUT IT'S WRONG!'

Anyways, Panda will be happy to know (when I met him, he was in utter disgust at the converse I pulled off and put in a corner of his dorm one night) ...that I gave in and bought new sneakers; BUT THAT DOESN'T MEAN MY CONVERSE ARE DEAD YET! They are hanging from a thread at this stage, but I think hanging them up on the wall for a while and giving them some space to breath (they have plenty of holes to breath from already but..yuh know), then wearing them only when I miss them, will give them a little more time.
I miss you already.
But Vans are pretty comfy too...
I'm going behind enemy lines here though...
Ugh...

IF IT MAKES YOU HAPPY

Normally people say when life gives you lemons..blah blah blah. Fuck lemons. I like strawberries. And when life makes you want to stick an air-filled syringe in your left eyeball, I am going to make organic pancakes with pure maple syrup and strawberries on top; with chai tea (not pictured).

After that, in the evening, you might get a pint of cider, lager and black currant, watch a movie, neglect friends and fall asleep to the amazing band you're missing perform tonight (pardon the utterly shit video). Actually, I'm listening to this one, but not very band representative, is it?

I swear, if I could cough up £11 a session at the Hot Bikram Yoga studio that I used to work at, I would be there. Bikram Yoga is my drug of choice. Nothing gets you more amped up and aired out for a night of raving until 6am, then explicit sex (if that were available to you) until it's breakfast and time for pancakes again like Bikram Yoga. Intense fucking energy.

And I swear, whoever has my mug in their dormitory as I type this, I will hang them from their window sill with their dental floss. I hate campus!