ABOVE IT ALL

Sorry, dudes. I needed those 4 days off. I'm feeling much better about everything after de-activating my twitter and facebook accounts (so no, you weren't deleted from my list) and spending time with myself just having a blast shopping and writing and sleeping and reading...and job-hunting, and this little song/memory from Sesame Street has just contributed to that. Okay, so the latest and greatest...

Looking...shiny and new; I've been slowly giving myself a re-vamp
Reading...The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami; Elle (it took me this long to realise that Elle totally dominates Vogue - no offense - and I'd still love a job at Vogue, please!)
Living...the life
Working...same shit, but with tons of new ideas/projects in mind, which are kinda really fucking exciting
Listening to...Bowie!
Drinking...Chai tea lattes or watermelon juice, most likely
Watching...if I could, I would probably be watching Chungking Express or Pepi, Luci y Bom or Vicky, Christina, Barcelona - some of my faves
Smelling of...CK One and Nivea Creme
Eating...Haven't touched a single carb for 2.5 days now...which leaves room for not much else really..
Dreaming of...fuck dreams
Wearing...leather, (fake) fur, copious rings, black, black, gold, grey, black...and now that I found my camera cable, lots and lots of pictures will be taken, I promise
Walking in...bare-footed
Singing...Sesame Street songs and Britney
Trying...to not eat carbs, to not spend money on Bebe's abso kinkified boots, to not sleep so much, to live in my inspirations
Wanting...a glass of rouge, then a few more, then a cup of Earl Grey

Yeah, this is a pretty boring post but I'll have new stuff up soon enough. Go read a newspaper.

WHERE IN THE WORLD IS CARMEN SANDIEGO?

These T. Anthony Ltd. pieces make me want to hop on a flight pronto! (but it has to be in business or first...). Carmen Sandiego comes to mind.

[A show of hands if you remember her! YEAH! (should've been her for Halloween)]

Speaking of travel, when I was over in LA, a letter came there in the mail addressed to both Panda and I. It was an invitation to our friend's wedding in the Philippines in February. So, we're dates...which, might I remind you, as of 2 days ago, we are no longer together (we had even planned to celebrate Valentine's Day there together). So it's all pretty icky at this stage but I've already made up my mind to still pursue this. After all, it isn't about us; it's about our friends getting married. Also, as I turn 21 in January (lol Harry, fuck you in advance for saying 'oh yeah, I forgot, you're a baby'), I'm going to make a mini self-discovery vacation out of it; one which Filipino Panda probably thinks is my way of saying I'm planning to 'get my groove back' with a new Filipino titled after another animal. I assure you, that is not the case. Panda and I are probably just going to end up rebounding each other, anyways. Then more goodbyes and tears.

RANT ALERT! RANT ALERT! RANT ALERT!

RIGHT! SORRY! BACK TO MY BIRTHDAY! Well, I hear the Philippines is the place to get your procedures done so I'm getting breasts.

Lies. I'm going to clean and bleach my teeth, is all. I think great teeth really transform a person's face. And perfect eyebrows. So, as your girl's eyebrows are thoroughly threaded to perfection every month and a half, teeth come next. The rest, I'll just yoga-fy my way out of. I believe my mother wants to come along and get something done herself but I shouldn't be telling you that. And she probably won't.

After that, Mistress Ivy and I were doing a bit of talking and we're thinking Burning Man/San Francisco/South East Asia next summer. But of course, that is because I expect to be jobless still by then (that would be nice, and not).

And yes, to all those wondering what happened to London this month, that's still in the works. Hold tight...and clear a space on your living room floor.

OF LILIES AND REMAINS

Okay, that wasn't such a long hiatus after all. I MIGHT do a couple more posts tonight since I'm all amped after 40 minutes on the treadmill, self-help reading material and coca cola (yes, my boyfriend and I broke up). But here are links to all the other posts I've written elsewhere that got published today:

Two over at Kill City (one on that ring!!) and my first proper Bitching and Junkfood post on the Where the Wild Things Are opening reception for the Pop-Up shop they opened at Space 15 Twenty last month in LA. I've owed you pictures from that for ages. Next up, the Kill City X Brian Lichtenberg collab party (with an added bonus!), so stay tuned.

P.S. I don't know why my KC posts' layouts are so shit- was having major probs trying to fix those; and my first post was supposed to go second and vice versa, duh (not my fault).

YOU'LL FIND A WAY

I'm always so damn good at finding the perfect depressing song to make me feel even worse when going through one of my spells. Please enjoy this one (or become inspired or slit your wrists to it, whatever). Anyways, I'm going through a lot right now so you might not see much of me on here for a little while. I dunno. Not sure. Just an advanced warning and apology in case. But you know I blog elsewhere now anyways (see right column) and that should tide you over in case A Dirty Word DOES go on hiatus (because I can't just up and not write over on those blogs). Sorry and I love you. I'll chin up as fast as I can.

SEATED FOR THE AESTHETIC FEAST

Images; I dunno.
Also, I've obviously been tampering with my layout.
Lots of changes happening, and about to happen...

SHAME AND FORTUNE

Just catching up on The Selby, STILL one of my favourites on the www.

Where do I get this clock?!

I actually have heart palpitations sometimes when browsing this site. It just kills me that I still don't own my own space that I can clutter with trashy glamour and thousands of books. I need this to happen. now.

Going to get ready for a wine and cheese thing now.

SHE LOVES YOU RIGHT NOW, SO DON'T CLOSE YOUR EYES

Siwy Sophie Wanderlust Onyx Jeans at Urban Outfitters going for £199.
Why the fuck would they do this to me?
You're welcome to provide suggestions if you think you can take a couple F-bombs.

LOOKIN' PRETTY KEEN SITTING ON A SWING

Picked this up today. I've now read 3 of his books, and have a long way to go. This one sounds really good though; looks like the girl meets girl and gets lesbian curious scenario comes into play). Also picked up the Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. Still no sign of Kafka on the Shore in bookstores (would it be banned?). Don't buy Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman. And that is all for now.

ALL THE WHILE I WAS DREAMING OF REVELRY

Every night to put myself to sleep.

So it turns out you don't have to wait for good things to come to you (as if I ever did in the past). I snarled and bickered when I couldn't get tickets to see Kings of Leon at this year's most expensive event worldwide, no doubt, then when I finally gave in 2 days before it, bought fangs and red eye contacts to accompany all the eerie black and gold pieces I wear on a regular basis in order to get drunk at this event...
...my sister called saying her friend's parents were giving up 2 tickets because they only wanted to attend the races (and the night time concerts were included in the tickets). I was kind of over it at this point as I was on my way to the salon to get the bone-straight blue/black hair that I pictured a couturable vampire donning, but I caved in because we had to get there in 2 hours. It suddenly hit me how many times I've tried to see KOL (in London just before I moved, and in L.A. this summer) so I just couldn't live with myself if I gave this up for glow in the dark paint.

Well, what can I say about Kings of Leon? They're...consistent? Their performance, which they claimed was their last for a while, was pretty much the same as the recordings, which is super, of course, but I would've liked it if they did something more (I mean, I'm not sure concert crowds want to experience the same thing they do when they listen to your album). But I am grateful. It was free.

In other news...ME! I'll be over there quite a lot as of now so do rummage occasionally. And I got a super email from Meghan from Kill City today and it looks like I might be blogging there soon too. I also applied for a job working in the Writers' Centre at Soho Theatre. Not ideal but certainly interesting. And hey, it gets me back to London. Wish me luck.

HI, I'M ICARUS, I'M FALLING

I've been contemplating hair.



I mean, it does grow back.

I've also been doing a lot of unnecessary spending lately. The only thing that will make me feel better about it is if I could at least use the items as blog posts, but the cable for my camera battery charger seems to have slithered off to a wilderness I am not familiar with (and no, I do not have a card reader, dick head, don't you dare suggest it). I am not a happy person.

Now that I'm lapsing into a small spell of unproductiveness due to no work, my depression seems to be sleeping with me again, and Damien Rice has become the enemy. So this is the best I could come up with for now.

I am sorry.

K

FEELING THE NEED TO ASSURE YOU WE'RE ALL QUITE SANE

Dear Shaun White...
I want your hair.
I want your canines.
I want you too.
Um, why?

-------------------

In case you were worried more than usual over this, I am up to sane things too. I am thinking of taking up surfing, conversational arabic and pro tennis and beach volleyball (I can't think of any other sport that rewards you with a more perfect body). I will also be blogging for the home girls over at Bitching and Junkfood (stay tuned) and I am working on my fiction again because I was shortlisted for this university competition to meet one on one with an agent in London and have them consult my work (fingers crossed because that means an instant ticket to London next month courtesy dad if I win this). 'Tis all. Carry on.

SOMETHING TO DO NOTHING TO

3 new albums I think are probably worth getting right now.

BARBED LIKE SEX, I FELT 10,000 VOLTS

I know, finally, some word from me. It's because I am no longer teaching 16 year old's locked up in their palace rooms, or 10 year old twenty somethings at academies rolling in indifferent money. I am in my room, writing Fiction once again and making my way around the editorial offices of the world begging my way into their lives (all the while listening to Siouxsie and the Banshees/Chopin/Gustavo Santaolalla/Dimmu Borgir/The Doors/Simian Mobile Disco...); and I am beginning to think that a sales job at Topshop will suffice.

Okay, not quite yet.

Anyway, today I am going to talk about Asian people. It's true they hold a great deal of space in my heart and head (none more so than the obvious boyfriend - must say that because I can already see him scowling). But I already talk about him quite a lot so today I'll talk about Ji Kim of Luxirare and Haruki Murakami.

As usual, all I have to do to illustrate to you the poetry of Ji Kim's web presence is provide you with a couple pictures from her site:

That 'To the Floor' post will be the death of you. Be careful. And conveniently, it is pinned up at the side of my brain labeled Halloween Inspiration (decided to go it safe with the Couturable Vampire route - anyone know where I can find some durable fangs? Want to wear them well after H is over, to snarl at some of the local Arab girls while shopping - and yes, as late as I may be, True Blood has infiltrated, not that I wasn't already a smitten wannabe fang-banger). To reassure you that it is indeed Kara speaking though, Halloween aside, those outfits are more than wearable on a daily basis and I would gladly accept a wardrobe consisting solely of those pieces!

And Murakami. Well, I've been talking about him semi-non-stop for the past week. Just finished this one this morning on the way to work.

Not my favourite, but I've only just gotten started on his many works and am still on the lookout for Kafka on the Shore, which doesn't seem to exist over here, but which Becks strongly recommends. If I myself had to recommend any so far, it would definitely be After Dark - it's the oddball Japanese love story between young people who don't sleep, in a city that doesn't either - always takes my heart. Anyway, here's a passage from South of the Border.. that I absolutey adored.

Her hand, which up till then had lain on the back of the sofa, she now placed on her knee. I stared vacantly at her fingers tracing the plaid pattern of her skirt. There was something curious about it, as if invisible thread emanating from her fingertips was spinning together an entirely new concept of time. I closed my eyes, and in the darkness, whirlpools flashed before me. Countless whirlpools were born and disappeared without a sound. Off in the distance, Nat King Cole was singing 'South of the Border'. The song was about Mexico, but at the time I had no idea. The words 'south of the border' had a strange, appealing ring to them. I was convinced something utterly wonderful lay south of the border. When I opened my eyes, Shimamoto was still moving her fingers along her skirt. Somewhere deep inside me I felt an exquisitely sweet ache.

Yes! GO GO GO!

THERE'S NO RIGHT MOMENT TO BREAK MY HEART

I can tell I'm going to regret this.

Not that I definitely need any given material purchase, but I've spent the last 10 milliseconds convincing myself that I DEFO need these Gal Stern tights I just spotted on awesome new website Bitching and Junkfood. And if you dear click to buy them as captioned, you'll be wearing an eye-patch long before you can even start sleeping with one eye open (huh?). Anyway, I'm just glad my UK bank account is still flourishing and my card still works. I just might be able to have these in my possession after all.

HOT ON THE TRACKS OF THE NIGHT

So the lyrical headers are back, and so am I. I've been working non-stop this whole week so that should explain my lack of posts. I apologize. But today was a good day. I did only things that I fancied doing, smiled, sat and spent my own hard-earned money at my own leisure on frivolous little things that made me happy for an hour. And now, instead of spiraling into my usual sleepy 10 o'clock depression over what crisp shirt to wear, lesson plans and disgustingly early mornings, I am celebrating the nonthingness of tonight's schedule by nursing the blog and a glass of red. Before that, I ate salmon sashimi for dinner over some fiction, and before that I rented a bike for an hour and rode along the glittery water-front while listening to:

Regarding The XX's new/debut(?) album - not feeling it, which is a shame because the first time I saw them years back at Hoxton Square Bar and Kitchen, I was musical putty and instantly wanted to have a three-way snog session with both vocalists (particularly Romy) (not that three-way snogging is remotely sexy/fun). I must've spent at least 3 odd posts raving about them on my old blog - they were that good. And I personally think the new album is missing their whole point completely, if I can even claim to know their point to begin with, but I think I can). And yet, it is one of those bands I just can't shake for the life of me, and so I am sure that if I DO go back to London before year end as intended, I will no doubt find myself awkwardly close to the stage ogling them once more (and this makes me want to curse).

It took me a really long time to write this post. I remember opening it talking about how lovely my day was, just fucking around in my own little world. To conclude, however, all I really have to say is that I feel pathetic and irrelevant, especially since my sister and her friends (who are at a party) just called and asked if I could cover for one of the girls if her father calls by saying I am on an overseas call so dial another number to find her.

Also the scanner isn't co-operating tonight so I can't do my next post.

And why is Dubai Fashion Week an invitation only event?

And why am I in possession of all this money with no one to spend it on/with?

Okay. Sorry. Leaving.

XXXXX

SHUBH DIVALI, GUYS! (Divali is the Hindu festival of light over darkness and good over evil and it's awesome and it's always been a part of my childhood). I went SCOURING THE EARTH for the little clay pots they put oil and wicks in and light at night (deyas) and a handful of my favourite Indian sweets. Found neither, but I sampled some new sweets today and am on a major sugar rush. It is a good day.

I also went shopping with my mum. I swear, no one else trumps shopping with my mum. She totally gets it (or rather, I get it from her?) We were looking at these chains and necklaces in this stuffy little Indian store and trying them on our heads. The store employee informed us they were not head bands ("we know. it's ok"). Then I picked out a couple great minty green beaded necklaces, which turned out to be, the store employee informed us, muslim prayer beads. He was a little worried after that, but we left very happy kids.

Also, you'll die over the new handbag I found in the crevice of a sweaty little tailor's shop today, but for now, I'm going to have to just leave you with my new Kill City 100 shot (it should go up on the Kill City 100 website soon, I think) because my camera has just died spectacularly on me. These are my 2 favourites (there's always only ever like 1 or 2 good shots of me out of a trillion appalling ones). Anyways, Panda is an awesome, patient photographer who tolerates my absolute un-model-like behaviour in front of the lens (I pretty much play dead in every shot because posing is embarassing as fuck). Can I just say, most comfortable skinnies ever!? And the jacket is so much more sexy in person than in any pic here or on their website. I got it for Panda and have a hard time deciding whether I want to leave it on him forever or seductively rip it off (or wear it myself!).

Which face is less ugly? Anyway, doesn't matter, already sent in the 1st one (but we can choose for my right column?) Okay. I've had a really interesting, busy week and I want to make good use of the remaining hours of my weekend. Scamper off and do the same.

XXXX

WAH Magazine did a travel directory on where to be seen around Los Angeles and it's on the mark, except for a couple of places I'd like to add.

Space 15 Twenty is a must. There's always something going on there that you have to be a part of. I was probably there more than 4 times in my last month visiting, whether it was for a monstrous, leaking vegetarian burger and sweet potato fries at their snack bar, or for an opening reception for whatever hip viral shit that's coming out soon (Where the Wild Things Are - oh and I finally got those pictures! Watch this space!), or for an open air 80's movie (Ferris Bueller's Day Off) intact with pirate-sounding bums thoroughly enjoying every minute of their film experience, or just for shopping my life away at the massive Urban Outfitters and surrounding uber shops. With that said, if you call yourself an arty-farty scenester-cum-leather-jacket-wearing, non-metal/punk-listening kid, then haunt this space or leave LA!

And secondly, for my sick fuckers around the world, Necromance. By far, the best thing I came away from LA with (apart from my relationship with Panda, which seems to dismantle every time I visit) were those winding earrings you saw me wearing on The Cobrasnake. They're actually snakes, and that's probably one of the least creepy things you'll find at Necromance. They've got 2 stores really, neighbouring each other on Melrose Ave. One, a bone collector's heaven on earth (also where you'll find all manner of taxidermied cretin, shell and beading), the other, catering more to jewelry, accessories, macabre home decor and medical quirks. Here are some shots I begged for of the second store.





Hop to it!
GAHHH, literally just got called for an interview for a 3-day writing course that I might teach that my over-ambitious mother name-dropped me for because she couldn't take it herself (WENCH!!!...that I love). They want me to come in in about 2 hours. Course starts tomorrow. I die, and such.