The Lonely Londoner

NEW

2008-08-20T04:53:00.004+04:00

Hi,
forgot about you. I thought I should probably let you know that I have a new blog. Same shit, different space. So go there.

I hereby put an end to this shit. Out.

HIATUS

2008-07-04T00:49:00.006+04:00

because...

I'm off to China

I'm back on anti-depressants

And I'm striving to be a VERY desperate, VERY suicidal and VERY sexy alcoholic with almost no waistline.

Pieces and Love :)

FREEDOM GEAR

2008-07-01T13:25:00.002+04:00

LAB RAT

2008-07-01T12:49:00.014+04:00

Ohayo!

So my days at VIVA Magazine are over. If I stapled together all my bus receipts I could make a full skirt like so:

Reiss. by the way. I probably spent 6 hours of my day commuting. Regardless, I would do it again. I mostly did a lot of research for upcoming projects (the majority of which belonged to the travel and leisure sections of the magazine), and called up companies and gathered information. There was literally one day of filing and no days of getting everyone's coffee. I may also get a chance to take part in their monthly 'Great Debate' section, where a couple women gather to (obviously) discuss a topic. Next month's topic is celebrity related I think. But there's a photoshoot of course, and I may not be around for that. So...here's hoping.

I also got to meet up with some people from Harper's Bazaar Dubai who offered me work experience as well, but I'm not sure when I'll be around again. July brings me to the start of a heavily packed travelling schedule, starting off with China in a couple days.

Anyway, while I was busy swearing at myself for forgetting their 'thank you' card at home, the VIVA team was putting together an expensive and heavy parting gift for (apparently) their longest and most efficient intern.

So I've spent half of my day in the bathroom already, testing out this firming cream, that aqua cream, and smelling like a million bucks, and am about to put on some white nail polish. I have absolutely no use for half this stuff (the avid fan of natural beauty and a good black liner that I am) but it seems by accident the Clinique Repairwear Lift SPF15 has cleared up the damage of some unfortunate spots overnight. The transformation is effing surreal. So...whatever, use it for the wrinkles and lines and the lifting and smoothing, but I just found me my acne medication (someone please tell me why I am now getting acne. My face used to be comparable to a baby's butt cheeks). I also really like the Spa Pedicure Cucumber Heel Therapy. Those babies can become quite dry out here in the desert.

THANKS VIVA!

5 DAYS

2008-06-30T08:19:00.013+04:00

So I haven't written on here in so many days and it's really bothering the heck outta me, how my interest is slowly waning with this blog. I find writing for it is becoming too much of an obligation, what with fuckin shit like Fiction Friday and Song of the Week and all that bull crap. Which is why I won't be on here much longer. Plus the pink and my big ole face is starting to get to me, not to mention the fact that I foolishly signed up for a shitty ass ad on my blog. Yeah, it's all highly unfunnable now. I'm going for something more simple the next time around, black and white and the grey areas of my mind, and I wouldn't have to write a god damned thing everyday if I didn't want to. Hear hear. I'll let you know when that's happening of course, because I still love you.

And like...I'm dying to get my hands on the skull-printed trunk that Madonna was carrying around in Desperately Seeking Susan? I CAN'T FIND A PICTURE FOR YOU FOR NOTHING THOUGH?! It's pissing me off. That would've been a great post. Regardless, I am making my own. very. soon.

But in the mean time, I've gotten this classic Blue Oyster Cult song re-stuck in my head. I can't believe it took getting sandwiched between two heavily scented Filipina ladies, squawking on the bus ride home, sitting an hour and a half in traffic, to remember how amazing this song is. So I thought I'd share it with you before I head off to my last day at the VIVA office (yeah, I haven't been posting about that either because there really is nothing worth writing about. It's me gathering my points. ha).

SO, BLUE OYSTER CULT!!!!

Skip ahead to 2:30 for one of my alltime favourite guitar solos. I'm no expert at guitar solos but I know what I like in my rock. And SOMEhow, if I were a guitar genius, that would've been exactly what I would've fingered. I've heard my fair share of epic runs, but the recorded version of that one, my friend, is bliss. Short and sweet.

THE TEN THINGS, PLUS ONE FOR GOOD LUCK

2008-06-25T23:08:00.006+04:00

Tea leaves and diet coke. I'm picturing this starvation method or something similar in caloric content in order to fit sexily into some of these particulars. *sigh* life can blow dicks hard sometimes. Anyway, meet Pixie Market and their garb. Oh, and take a good minute to sigh and die over the pink number with the crisscrossing cords, will ya? JESUS H!

WILLING TO GIVE IT UP...

2008-06-24T17:06:00.000+04:00

...for her.

DOH!

2008-06-24T08:41:00.004+04:00

I can be so goddamned gullible sometimes. Jesus. I wrote about this a while ago, and how beautiful of a find it was for me, these 'lost' tribes. But turns out...Dumbass. But that doesn't bother me so much, as long as they're not a bunch of loin-clothed painted up Apocalypto people. They're real. And they're beautiful.

Also the other day I said I would show you that creepy bus stop guy's poetry website, so...this is it. Definitely not my cup of vanilla black tea. I'm more of a Ginsberg kinda gal. (Read 'Howl'!)

ONE SCOOP IS FOR PUSSIES

2008-06-22T22:54:00.054+04:00

So, this is the highlight of my entire work day, which started and ended at like stupid o'clock.

Pistachio Almond ice cream. It seemed a man at the bus station was intrigued by this as well and decided to approach me, sit quietly for 6 minutes, then wait until I stuffed my mouth like a Thanksgiving turkey, hanging perilously from my red plastic spoon with his eyes, it seemed. He was menatally saying "wait for it...wait forrrr ittttt..." until the green sloppy jet was safe and sound in the hangar. ZOOOOOMMM! And then was when he opened his mouth to say something obscure to me like,

"arampashalmasjardeyhai ice cream heeramsita, ya?"
I said something along the same lines, but you can guess why, "shovvy?"
I still never figured out what he said, but he introduced himself to me several times, while laughing and saying how this and that and ice cream was the meaning of happy times. Yeah. Great fun. He stuck out his hand a grand total of three times for me to shake it, which I then counteracted with three shakes of my head and three stifled smiles and three look aways. Maybe more.

"You waiting on the bus?"
"Yes sir." Otherwise I would be sitting in a sweaty crowded bus station enjoying some pistachio ice cream just for the filthy fun of it; waving at the spit globules that flew all around me by dark, dirty, robed men with all manner of sacks in their hands. I wish I had told him that. But then, he probably would not have understood after the words hit four syllables.

"So, which bus? Where are you going?"
I pointed to the one that was loaded up with its 12 women already, which meant that the several BAZILLION seats at the back after the plexiglass partition could only be reserved for men, so I waited, with a sigh...and a scoop, for the next one to almost never come.

"Where do you live?"
"Around. You really think I'm going to tell you that, right? I'm afraid my mother taught me well."
"Ah, it is just friendship talk...just blah blah blah gobble mumble friend mumble jumble I not kidnapper yadda yadda yadda."

Anyway, so it went like this and then he opened his wallet and told me the most pleasant thing that could have burst my seams and had me shitting myself right there and then.

"I'm a writer. I write English poetry."

He then started rifling through his wallet for a badly folded piece of paper the size of a business card, where one of his poems was typed; something about a cup of tea and milk of some other f-word faith, tea leaves of promises and things like that.

"Ummm, that's cute!"
"Yah, like you, yar?"
"Sure, why not?"

He said it was crazy faith since I'm a writer too and that we should stay friends and exchange emails and phone numbers (and here he would not rest even after my 96.375 firm 'NO's') and look out for each other as we're in the same area.
Sorry palos.
Not happening.
In fact, how's bout never.
But I did take the "business card" he offered me, saying he started doing them up when he got a couple stuffs published in Gulf News over here. I took it because, as soon as he said "I have a blog where I share my work, here have my business card and check it out sometime and contact me pls pls pls contact me" I was thinking of YOU; my blog babies. I thought you might, at best, be ticklishly amused by this...'S.H. Ghazi', says his card with a feathery quill icon in one corner.

The catch is...I haven't checked it out yet, and in order for you to come back and visit my blog tomorrow (yes, it has come to this) I am going to withold this amusing information from you until tomorrow. Hopefully you're still interested...or even STARTED off interested at the very least.

BEDTIME! CHEERIO!

GET DOWN WITH THE SICKNESS

2008-06-20T14:39:00.021+04:00

SOOOO I just finished catching up with Gnarlitude's blog. Haven't visited the fiesty Jen in quite some time. She posted something about a metal band. I like me my occasional gothic/symphonic/heavy/black metal, so I definitely clicked on the link to watch the documentary on Gaahl, from the black metal band Gorgoroth on VBS TV. And well, she's fuckin' right. Jen is R.I.G.H.T. You really gotta watch this video, man. ALL of it! To the END! Do it. Now.
Because I can't be bothered to get into specifics myself, here's Jen's satisfactory synopsis:

"In what might possibly be the best episodes I’ve yet to see on VBS TV, legendary and amazing photographer Peter Beste and crew headed to Norway to meet up with Gaahl from Gorgoroth on his release after a short stint being locked up for some gnarly shit (you have to watch to find out.) They go to his home which no reporter has ever been to. Traipse around the town he lives in while trying to no avail to get a word from the townspeople on Gaahl, who they are all to frightened of to say anything about. Described as the most hated man in all of Norway, Gaahl is gripping on the screen and once you think they are getting close to him, well, just watch the very end to see just how amazingly creepy dude can get."

I thought I might add this YouTube clip for effect...

...BUT that's not what I think the actual VBS documentary portrays. He raises good points in it; just in a sinister way. I just want to make sure I get it clear that I don't support Satanism. Actually, fuck what you think haha.

I especially like Gaahl's quote (somewhere around part 3 of the VBS docu., after showing us his artwork), something like"It's like a painting; you won't stop until it's finished." However, the context it was dropped in made it uber bone-chillingly creepy. I say undergound TV series with like...a BAZILLION seasons. Pretty. Please. With a bloody lamb's skull on top. Watch it here.

STALKER

2008-06-20T12:24:00.022+04:00

If you've been following me all these months, you will know that best-selling British Asian author Hanif Kureishi dominates my current mental bookshelf. I am about to start 'The Body' this evening, once I round up the last couple pages of Kerouac's 'On the Road'. I'm falling so far behind on my summer reading list for my Developing the Novel class next semester. I'm supposed to be going at a one book a week pace but Kerouac's took me two weeks because of my new crazy/busy schedule (new to the office life, folks).

ANYWAY! I WAS TALKING ABOUT HANIF KUREISHI!!!

Geez, as much as I love my tangential train of thought during my writing process, it kills everything else. So, The Guardian is featuring Writer's Rooms and they naturally chose Kureishi's. Here it isss!

Ahhh...beautiful writer jumble and clutter. This may be of waning interest to you but as the daughter of an interior designer, interiors are just as important to me as wearable exteriors. Besides, a writer's work space must give off the right vibrations and must only have inspiring things within its walls. It's a very key part of the process. Anyway, also required of us for the Developing the Novel class, is that we set up and finalise our writing space this summer in preparation for the long months we'll be spending in them for the class, as well as for the rocky road beyond graduation.

Thank God I came across this because I completely forgot that assignment. But either way this proves tricky for me because I live out here in the U.A.E. half the time and then when I head back to England for school, my accommodation arrangements are pretty much non-existent. I change rooms like underwear. It's crazy. My London belongings are scattered all around London at various friends' and families' houses. And I am certainly not looking forward to the treasure hunt when I get back, of retrieving them and finding a place to rest my head.

Back on track now, I'm not sure how I'll be able to organize a proper work space until I move out to the U.S. after school. AND EVEN MORESO, I find I get more on the page by sitting on a bus from start to finish anyway! I'm set, even if I were a bum.

WHAT'S THIS?

2008-06-20T10:39:00.003+04:00

Well kids, this is what you call masterful.

COLOURFUL LIKE HERMES

2008-06-20T10:02:00.017+04:00

God..everytime my friend Naomi goes on trips she hauls back the most four-dimensional, character-brimming shots. Have a couple of my faves...

[the eldest son gets his head shaved for a funeral ceremony. I hate it when my friends back in T'dad have to go through this. Who wants everyone to know that a loved one died while you're walking down the street? Bless him.]

[dig the guy in the dark sunglasses in the background]

Anyway, the parts of Abu Dhabi and Dubai you don't see are starting to morph into this. This place is thick and spilling over with hidden beauty. Fuck the Burj. Try looking behind that, in the shadow of its impressiveness. I urge you, if you have no obligations and you find yourself in Dubai, take the public buses. ABSOLUTELY don't if you are planning to get somewhere on time, though. But I've experienced the real Dubai just by being stuck on public transportation all. day. long. for this internship. It's been a real eye-opener. So, as much as the hours are long, and the office chair at VIVA can seriously paralyse your bum, and the 2 hour bus journeys that it takes for me to get there, I am very grateful for this experience. I've never seen so much of this place that I live in.

JUMBLE SALE

2008-06-18T21:09:00.064+04:00

Okay, I actually wrote this up last night at home on my laptop until it started giving trouble. So, here it is...

MABUHAY!
I roll with so many filipinos now on a daily basis that I feel I can say that. Can I? And can I tell you how hot the coffee guy is at the ITP Consumer Publishing office where I work? Filipino.

"Ma'am, you on your lunch break now?"
"Yes, indeedy. Where can I find hot water?"
"Hat warder? Ah, ma'am, over heer."
"Salamat."
Smile. "Ahhh. Only hat warder ma'am? No cappuccino today? Not even tea?"
"Oh no. I quit. I just need something to ease my stomach. Hot water."
"Ah, hat warder. Ai Seeee."

Anyway, so this post is what I call a Jumble Sale; just a slobbery mess of everything that's going on and being thunk up by me, all laid out there for you to feast on, since I haven't seen you in what? Four days? Momma's workin'. Leaving the house before 7am and getting home near 9pm means no tolerance for blogging, or just about anything else but splendid slumbers.

ON WITH THE MUMBO JUMBO!

Wellll firstly, a toast, to my name in (very tiny) print. The Fashion director took my full name today to put down for credit helping out with one of July's magazine photoshoots; that lovely colourful one I posted about a couple days back. And might I add that it looks quite fetching on the picture editor's computer so far. Looking forward to the release date (July 1st, and the day after I leave the office)

Secondly, I kissed a girl and I liked it.

I'm afraid of how Katy Perry always manages to sing what I'm thinking. So daring. Loves it. Not her. It. And then there's this version of It...that I...stumbled QUITE ROUGHLY upon...

Hmm...I feel left out. Where did all the teen angst go? And when did the Over-Confident-All-Eyes-On-Me Youngster Generation start up? So, anyway, the song is stuck in my very congested head regardless, along with:

Magic Spells by Crystal Castles

Ultraviolence by HEARTSREVOLUTION

Tomorrow Never Dies by Sheryl Crow and,

Waiting in Vain by Bob Marley and the Wailers

...LISTEN LISTEN LISTEN...

AND, Mark Wahlberg speaks and I listen: "That f**ker lives down the street from me, man! He has to go back to the U.K., because he has the paparazzi all over my house!" AH, YES! I'm sure you can guess who that is...

THEN here is Agyness Deyn stealing my clothes. I actually went on one of my first dates with my current ex in a more fitted and better arranged version of that netted number. But after cleaning out my closet at the end of first year at Uni, I threw it in a garbage bag of donations to a Charity Shop. So I AM CONVINCED(!) that she dug it up at one of the branches, purposefully chucked it in her blender for a minute, then wore it with a brilliant grin.

[I'm Not Obsessed]

I promise you! THAT.IS.MY.TOP. (Anyways; finders, keepers, right?)

THEN here is an honorary mention for the not so honorary Kate Moss, who looks SO BANGIN' in this outfit. I would gladly tie her to a tree with her falling out extensions and rip both dress and shoes (moreso the shoes, if I had to choose, but in my dream I don't) off of her rattling body and run off into the sunset a better person.

[Gossip Girls]

ALSO, I NEED to produce a published article on the appalling madness that is Dubai's NEW transportation system. More on that another day.

IT'S THE WEEKEND!

P.S. I know I've been using constant celebrity posts as an excuse to fill up my blog. I hate that! This blog is not a celebrity-following blog. AT ALL! Please give me some time to R&R&R (the last one standing for refuel. I promise. I'll get it back.

Much love!
L.L. (in the much-anticipated Dreamland)

NOW THAT I WORK 9-5 (6)...

2008-06-14T07:30:00.003+04:00

...I realised life is short. Fiction Friday and the likes is cancelled. I'm busy enjoying my adolescence, so go scamper off and do the same. Run along...go on...shoo! Peace.

DIARY OF AN INTERN: SICK...OH WAIT, NO.

2008-06-11T21:09:00.017+04:00

I seemed to be coming down with a bad flu which had been spreading around the VIVA office, so I took the day to rest and recuperate. This morning I looked like a scarecrow that had given up its duties, but by early afternoon, under the constant vigilance of my Aunt Judy, I feel quite fine and am shaping up into some sort of Gladiator.

I woke up at 10am to find on my bedside table, a glass of apple juice and a glass of water, both bundled up on a pretty tray close to a handful of vitamin and medication bottles. My aunt would’ve added to the mix her own massive bottle of Seven Seas Cod Liver Oil Multi-vitamin capsules, but I made sure to put out my own mini bottle upon arriving to keep her happy. After downing all of that, I took a shower and sat working my way through my emails.

“Miss Kara!” she bellowed next to my left ear. Everytime she talks to me, I am snapped into constant fear that I did something unforgiveable, like leaving the toilet unflushed after delivering a baby of pure muscled waste. “I am going to the gym, then I’m going to run some errands. You better have drank three more glasses of water by the time I get back, and have had something to eat. Did you eat anything yet? What did you eat? And tea doesn’t count.”

With my toes curling and scraping at the immaculate white tile flooring, I decided, “Well…I was about to get up and have a bowl of organic oatmeal porridge?”

“Well, alright. That’s good for now. When I get back I will boil some wholewheat pasta and leave it on the stove for you. Martin and I are going out tonight. Will you be alright? Keep warm and CHILD! You really shouldn’t be having your Commandments on the floor!”

For a minute, my heart stopped. I thought, had I accidently thrown her worn gold-fringed bible on the floor? What the hell was she talking about? I looked around frantically, and saw nothing but my own two dry feet.

“Put some slippers on. You say you’re coming down with the flu and yet you’re walking around on cold floors barefooted. Oh, child…”

My Commandments? I pondered this for a full hour, on the breaks I took between each chapter of the novel I was reading. Where on earth did she get that from? I thought, staring at my toes. Then, I realized I had ten of them…?

I watched as she hauled her tiny self up into her maroon SUV, then sped off. I reluctantly walked down to my aunt and uncle’s kitchen to organize my porridge, wondering if she was crazy enough to check her bin’s contents for ripped up Oatmeal Porridge packets. I poked around to see what I’d be eating while here; jars of preserved fruit, every one of God’s beans, peas, grains, nuts and seeds in their respective Tupperware containers, only every single cereal with Bran in its title, vanilla soymilk, teas in every colour (white, green and now black, brought by me for my mornings) and the honey or raw cane sugar that would go with it. Last night for dinner, 6/8’s of my plate was sautéed vegetables, 1/3 of them I was learning of and tasting for the very first time.

I imagine that since she has no children, that that is why she saddles and straddles my back day in and day out to make sure I am constantly sorted. She has been packing me well-thought-up vegetarian lunches for work which include everything from a zip-locked package containing mug, silver spoon and oatmeal packet, to a teabag and mint supply that I could share with the entire 10 member office team. Just before I got the bus home, I had to reluctantly gobble down half of my packed lunch, guiltily binning the rest, because my father, when dropping me off at the house, had wished Aunt Judy good luck, and had been telling everyone in his circle that I was anorexic. When I got home, she would quiz me on what my stomach held at the end of the day, then suggest, Military style (whatever that means, because I suppose there’s no ‘suggesting’ in the Military) that I add this or that to it before bed.

I can only hope that after lazily flipping through her Essence magazine archive, and 90’s copies of Vogue and InStyle, that I fall asleep before she gets home. That way, I’ll only receive a note in the morning as I rush off for work, instead of a full-on dietary discussion and debate.

As a result, that old Sesame Street song has been stuck in my head.

Am I sad to know it? The Street is great, man...

GOING, GOING...

2008-06-10T11:17:00.003+04:00

Oh my...when did this happen?

[images from The Skinny Website]

LIVE FROM DUBAI

2008-06-10T08:08:00.027+04:00

Already two more days then my work week is complete!
Hi guys. Been real busy at the office, researching for features and content and what have you. No news, no pictures, no interesting tales. I just know a few things:

1) It's very difficult trying not to spend too much in the city when THE BEST HUMMUS IN THE WORLD is literally three doors away; as well as a decent sushi place.

2) Once it hits 6pm (or sometimes earlier) I am outta here like nobody's business; and in all corners of my existence too, mind, body and soul. It's not that I'm not having a blast. It's just if I have ever worked as many hours as this in my short lifetime, it has been in the later part of the day steering clear of my beauty sleep, and in comfier clothes. Also, it hasn't been this BLOODY SWELTERING!

3) My father has the coolest friends in the world. They really stick together and have each other's backs. They all did pilot training when they were teenagers back in Trinidad, flew for the same local airline, and when it got bankrupt, they all eventually split and met back up in the Middle East working for another airline. I have been surrounded by this sort of pilots and their families culture, and it's quite amazing. It's like having 5 godfathers. They always look out for me being my father's daughter. So, this month, one of them has taken me in and provided me with generous accommodation (own room, own bathroom, free internet and food(I get packed lunch everyday and am forced to eat by the pilot wife), another picked me up from work yesterday, after perching near the bus stop for nearly two hours with a half melted Toblerone, and another (my actual godfather) gave me $300 US this morning!

4) Although I feel all proud and grown-up strutting down the street madly and purposefully in heels and fancy clothes, it's great to wake up to the occasional packed lunch (complete with fruit, vegetarian meal, bottled water, raisins, mints, porridge packet). Reminds me that I'm still a well taken care of fresh youthling. Yeah, I think I just made that up and I love it!

5) I STILL haven't seen Sex and the City okay? Shove your Manolos down your throat and get over it. That movie will never come to this country; this country that won't let us feature gay men, won't let us write an article on Darfur for our magazine, and deport us for getting pregnant!

6) What with all the research I do for the magazine, I've been finding the most amazing articles. Have a read...
Latest Indian Jones movie inspired by crystal skull-worshipping community in Mexico - http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/world/la-fg-crystalskulls8-2008jun08,0,3549594.story?track=rss

Middle-aged bank employee running gladiator school in Rome-
http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/world/la-fg-gladiator8-2008jun08,0,2128413.story

Naked cyclists pedal the streets of Mexico City to promote Emission-free lifestyle- http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/world/la-fg-gladiator8-2008jun08,0,2128413.story

Bank run by and for street children in India- http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/world/la-fg-bank7-2008jun07,0,3767951.story

(THIS HAD ME IN TEARS) Albinos killed in Tanzania due to local superstitions-
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/06/08/world/africa/08albino.html?ref=world

Anyways, it's about that time in the office so I'm out. Have a great day! And Happy Belated Philippines Independence!

LOOK AT ME!

2008-06-07T01:14:00.016+04:00

I haven't really been into what celebrities have been looking like lately; exhibit A. And I don't even LIKE posting about celebrities on this blog. Have probably only done so two or three times. But I thought, it's a Friday night and I'm home alone, I'm in pyjamas, there's nothing to do, I'm going through my blogroll, and OH! LOOK! Amy Winehouse is caught looking good for once!(clotheswise). Why not take this opportunity to post some pictures of other celebrities looking 'stellar and fly' (Amy's words).

Sarah Jessica Parker

Rachel Bilson

Nicky Hilton

Hilary Duff

Anne Hathaway

Sienna Miller

Victoria Beckham

[All pictures courtesy I'm Not Obsessed]

DIARY OF AN INTERN: MY FIRST FASHION PHOTOSHOOT

2008-06-07T00:32:00.009+04:00

Day 4 of my internship at Viva had me helping out at a fashion photoshoot which took place at the newly opened Alpha club at Le Meridien Hotel, Dubai.

FICTION FRIDAY: CHRISTIAN COLLIDES WITH CORNTRUCK, AND MANY OTHER RIDICULOUSLY SHORT STORIES

2008-06-06T23:37:00.006+04:00

Yes. I managed to find some forms of Microfiction on this website called Story Bytes; so Micro, only 2 words a piece. It's a reward for those who actually read that ridiculously long piece on Camp Cross from last Friday. Wasn't it good though?

Enjoy these.

DIARY OF AN INTERN: DAYS 3 & 4

2008-06-06T22:12:00.075+04:00

It's been a really busy week. By the time I got home yesterday and the day before from work, it was quite late and I was quite tired so I have not been posting about my experiences at the Viva office on the exact days. Hence, this bursting weekend post.

Day 3

Okay so Day 3 wasn't particularly exciting. I was told to do extensive research on some articles that could be possible hooks for the features and spreads they planned to produce in the next issue. So basically, I spent the day slurping a take-away Pina Colada from TGIF next door and browsing story-hoarding websites like Digg, Fark, and Pretty Social (a relatively new website where women can 'share and discuss stories from around the web'). For the record, since I love the guy, I found out about the last website from Joe, which means, he made my job at the office even easier. Millefois Merci.

As a result of all that internet research, I stumbled upon my favourite story of the lot: Isolated Tribe Spotted in Brazil. Beautiful. I have a thing for tribes, especially after thoroughly indulging in 'Apocalypto' three times. So great that they're still out there today. It's so fascinating seeing them protect themselves with their bows and arrows from the camera in its helicopter above. Most beautiful thing I've read all week; along with Amy Tan's novel 'Saving Fish From Drowning', which I finished last night, which of course you MUST read, and which is actually quite focused on a Burmese tribe called the Karen tribe.

Anyway, this what I stupidly wore to work that day as I braved the excruciating heat on the way to work. All black.

DAY 4

Apart from the events that happened between 7:30pm and 2am yesterday, I had a great day. Allow me to briefly sum up those unfortunate events before going on about the activities that were internship-related. Finding my way home from a different location other than the usual Viva office (as the photoshoot was elsewhere) resulted in:

me searching for a nearby bus stop which wasn't nearby and had me walking up and down several highways like a prostitute (which some people slowed thinking I was), finding one, figuring out which bus from there would take me to my destination, waiting an hour and a half for a bus to actually even stop for me as they were all packed with workers, finally getting one an hour and a half later, arriving at the bus terminal for the express to Abu Dhabi and finding that there were no more for the evening, calling my dad from a party to tell him I would be spending the night in a nearby bush if he didn't come for me, arranging to meet him just outside the city, getting to the planned location (Dubai Marina) and discovering that the area was so newly constructed that there were no road signs or street names yet, stumbling around in painful shoes looking for a familiar building to stand and wait at, finding out my dad was still an hour away and had no idea where I was, bursting into tears from all the wandering, the crippled feet, the seclusion, the heat, the parched throat, finding a security guard outside a place called La Riviera Towers who said he would talk to my dad, my dad telling me after I was given the phone back that he had no idea what the guy was talking about, my phone beeping saying the battery was low, being fed water and tissues by the guard who allowed me to sit in the blissfully air-conditioned lobby to wait, then standing out on the highway with him to wave at my dad's car as he flew by then turned around and collected me. Yes, we gave him a bloody good tip. I got home at 4am and thanked Allah, God, Buddha and Mother Lakshmi that it was the weekend and I didn't have to get up an hour later for work again.

PHEW! Now the photoshoot! Yes, I went on my first fashion photoshoot (photos posted here) with Viva, which was located at a newly opened club called Alpha, which is part of Le Meridien Hotel Dubai. All clubs and restaurants serving alcohol have to be situated at a hotel in the U.A.E. Alcohol can barely be obtained elsewhere. They don't sell it at supermarkets or anything. So people make a big deal about going for 'booze runs' (which the photographer informed everyone she was going on this weekend) and my dad, as he's a pilot, usually just stocks up when coming through Duty Free.

Anyway, so I helped out the Fashion and Beauty editor Chee, and her assistant Gaby by organizing the clothes, shoes and accessories for the shoot. There was a huge crisis when the steamer refused to work and we had to go ask to borrow an iron and ironing board from the hotel staff. The first one they sent us didn't work, so we had to go back and request another, which took nearly half an hour to come, and tested it out in a nearby outlet in the vast lobby; with the hotel's guests brunching, bozing and smoking eyeing us with amused expressions.

The whole organizing an iron and ironing board ordeal took nearly an hour; the reason being that the immigrant workers who come to this country and apply for jobs barely even know what the job entails or how to do it. They're just grabbing what they can, and fast. Once they are given orders, they follow them mechanically. Anything outside of what they are ordered to do, they know absolutely nothing about. This is also the reason I spent so much time getting more and more lost yesterday evening. Not even the bus drivers knew about the correct buses or directions I should take, around this city they have been working in for quite some time, I imagine. This is also why once when I jumped in a taxi and asked some advice about where a particular building might be on a particular street, the driver (who was hired to drive) barely knew english, could not understand what I wanted him to do and told me 'Cannot showing me where? I'm sorry, no,' opening the door for me to get out.

So what happened when we approached the front desk about the iron TWICE was we were faced with a tiny Indian man, who merely looked at us with bulging eyes, then looked down at the ground racking his brain and muttering 'what to do? what to do?' We could see the doom in his eyes as he thought about impatient Gaby seeking out the manager to complain about him, and him getting fired as a result. Anyway, eventually he talked to someone, and they talked to someone, and so forth, and we received a new iron. All was well.

The photoshoot featured real everyday women with different body types, showing which clothes flattered their body types most. I was the first person to show up at Alpha, then the photographer Candy, next. She was a lanky Australian woman with fried bleached ringlets and thick black glasses.
"Are you the first model today?"
"Oh no, no, no, " I stammered, flattered, staring at her concerning lack of breasts printed through her Karl Lagerfeld tank top. "I'm just the intern. The team's all on their way."

Of all the cool people I met that day, Candy was the most exciting. In fact, I might be harbouring a small girl crush. She had 6 tattooes, blasted Sheryl Crow and Bob Marley songs through her Mac, her butt-crack peek-a-booed over her briefs and baggy surfer jeans when she stooped and crouched and jumped about excitedly to take pictures, and she wasn't at ALL pretty. Actually, when she took off her glasses, she looked the way Carrie Bradshaw might look if she wore absolutely no make-up and hadn't slept in several days. In other words, she wasn't too ugly either. On the breaks in between, she sat reading a book about 'thinking big' while lounging on one of the club's longue chaises. She rolled and smoked copious amounts of brown-papered cigarettes.
"They're licorice flavoured," she told me.

Although we were served an unlimited amount of drinks by one of the bar staff they had provided us with, she asked several times for the only thing they didn't serve; coffee. They diligently trekked up to the hotel to get it for her. And in between tiny porcelain cups of those, she chugged Red Bull, and yet remained pleasantly aware of her surroundings and not maniacally buzzed. I marvelled. She also called me over once and to my surprise (I shouldn't have been surprised. She was satisfyingly crazy), she asked me to help her pick out a model of Jeep Wrangler on her laptop. She was thinking of buying a new car this week. We chose this.

The make-up artist was also quite talented, and the only one who scarfed down as much of the meditarranean food that I ordered for everyone as me. We chatted quite a lot. She gave some of the staff, who were going out afterwards, a new face for the evening. Chee, the fashion director, asked the Plus Size girl they used for the shoot to bring along 6 gift bags to thank all the models for taking part, as she worked at some cosmetics department or other. But the girl brought too many bags, so Chee handed me one. So happy was I for this bag containing the latest DKNY mini roll-on perfume, DKNY shower gel, a mini London Fashion Week make-up set and Sean John's latest fragrance for women called Unforgiveable. I'm usually quite picky with scents, but everything in there smelt FANTASTIC! And they were no longer mine anyway. I knew exactly what I had to do. I presented the pretty gift bag reading 'Unforgiveable' to my mother this morning, asking her to forgive me for forgetting her birthday, which was a few weeks ago. She left the house a few minutes ago, the roll-on perfume tucked neatly into her clutch bag.

THREE WHITE STATEMENTS

2008-06-04T13:00:00.002+04:00

OMG.
I am SOOOO white. (really. check. track back my entire blog. Half this shit is on there.)
I am also TOTALLY buying that book when it comes out. Totally.

DIARY OF AN INTERN: DAY 2

2008-06-03T22:59:00.039+04:00

Well, I wasn't as late as last time. Just 20 minutes. Making progress. Got off early today because of a power cut and am going in an hour and half later tomorrow morning because the rest of the team have something to attend to. Can I get a 'WOHOO!' for an hour's worth more of beauty sleep? I bought myself a scoop of mint chocolate chip for that small miracle.

May I just profess my love for tea? ESPECIALLY Vanilla Black Tea? Great smell, great taste, bigger shock to my system than coffee (and without even realising it too, what with all the heavy heart-beating I get from Starbucks), and good for slimming. 4 out of 4. I never noticed until now how bright and in tune with the world I am when under the influence. Good stuff. Think I might take a couple tea bags to work with me next time. And a box of Pop Pan Spring Onion Crackers! Pure, innocent indulgence. I've also become quite prone to snacking on almonds, and of course, as any desert going working gal should, copious amounts of water.

They say the sun, ram-packed with all its vitamin D is supposed to make you feel naturally energized, but in the desert, I beg to differ. It just drains me. 5 minutes walking to the bank a couple of buildings away and I want to bury myself alive in a sand pile. The next thing I will be investing in, sadly, won't be:

[Topshop]

OR...

[Warehouse]

but rather a parasol and some major SPF something! It saddens me that I am officially 'The Baked One' at the office, while everyone else remains happily reddened in all the right places, with their rouged lips and cheeks. HMPH!

Anyway, I spent all of 5 and a half hours compiling an extensive calendar for the team to follow in upcoming months if ever searching for inspiration for a feature or photoshoot etc. I scoured the internet for music and film festivals, movie premieres, trade shows, fairs, galas, award ceremonies, cultural events across the globe, worldly observances, celebrations and more. I was surprised at how long it took to do that, and found myself at it all day. And I still never got to finishing by 4pm because of the power outage.

When electricity said its rude goodbye, and the girl in charge of a photoshoot going on at precisely that moment came back in grumbling and scowling about the studio's pitch black nothingness, we huddled in our corner enjoying the swivel of our swivelly chairs, and did a Post Mortem of the latest issue (June) which came out 2 days ago (Yeah, things run differently here). In case you didn't catch on, a Post Mortem is a review of the publication by the staff. I must say, they all had keen eyes, especially I, once I discovered that one of the pictures labelled 'Lindsay Lohan' did, in fact, look like her, but ABSOLUTELY WASN'T! And that made me realise two things; that I am a Pop Culture harlot, and that I would be a fabulous editor. Spelling Bee champion three times in a row, photographic memory, annoying as fuck conversationalist as I itchily interrupt my friend's every verbal wrong-doing, my sole problem in Creative Writing being that I can't keep my editing self out of the free writing process because scrappiness is UNCOOL! Yeah. It was really great to see that while I quietly shadowed the team, they were voicing my stifled opinions. They and I were thinking and scrutinizing alike.

The team at Viva really knows how to put together a comfy read of a magazine. I'm pleased with the June issue, especially because the black pouffy top with ruffles down the breast that I chose to wear today was emblazoned across one of its pages. GOOD CALL! Even if the Editor in Chief (who failed to notice) was wearing jeans. To my annoyance, the VIVA team tend to leave me standing alone and have completely ditched the officewear look in exchange for that of a day at the beach, wearing things like Bermuda shorts, thong sandals, halter tops, and over-the-bikini floral dresses. If I weren't so traditional, and hadn't spent money purchasing officewear specifically for this internship, then I would've said 'Fuck it' and rocked some tight ass skinny jeans, hot pink flip flops and a fierce t-shirt. *sigh* You can never win.

TTFN,
The Lonely Londoner

P.S. I had a picture or two for you of What I wore today on my camera but for some reason when I plug my camera into the computer today it's not registering it and I can't find it anywhere. So...maybe I'll add them another time. Curfew calls.

MY REFINED TASTE FOR...

2008-06-02T08:42:00.005+04:00

Refinery 29 goods.

DIARY OF AN INTERN: DAY 1

2008-06-01T21:52:00.049+04:00

It started at 5am. Not really. My sleep habits have been whack for centuries, it seems, so I was really blinking and tossing in the dark from 3am. Christ. There are approximately 160km between Abu Dhabi and Dubai(my destination, headquarters of Viva Magazine), and so that is the distance I travelled today, and then some.

I jumped on the first running Emirates Express of the morning at 6:20am, bopped to Peter Bjorn and John and the likes during the 2 hour bus-ride, while everyone else slumbered. This really surprised me because of my usual need to sleep through 5/8's of my day, everyday, without fail. Well, today, that wasn't happening for a second. Here I am at 10pm writing this out with renewed fervour.

With my usual sleeping habits in mind, the original plan was to refuel several times per day on Red Bull, like a gas guzzling SUV. But I was too late to browse the bus station's mini mart before we set off, so the cup of Vanilla Black Tea was all I had in my system on the way to Dubai; and it worked wonders for my consciousness. I stress. Here I am. Still. I mean, I remembered from the two tourist trap coffee plantation tours I did in Costa Rica that tea has more caffeine than soda and coffee, but I didn't expect to turn my back on energy drinks and Starbucks after one day!

Anyway, when we got to a place called Al Karama, I jumped off, head turning every which way in search of my next bus, although thighs quaking from my rupturing bladder as well(and here my problem lies. I am one of those folks who needs to go to the bathroom half an hour after drinking half a cup of anything. Worst habit for someone lost in the scalding delapidated and dirty backroads of a foreign country, where every shop-keeper either doesn't know what 'washroom/bathroom/toilet' means or is shocked at the audacity of a woman to approach Arab men in such a crazily candid manner about her bladder. 'Bloody Westerners...').

Look. It was serious. And the clock was ticking. Still hadn't found the correct bus stop, still hadn't relieved myself, still waddled around wearing head to toe black under a full-on desert sun (how do they do it? And covered even more so?). Finally, a shady Lebanese restaurant with a friendly man (and the type who wasn't over-friendly in that sleazy Arab way. No offense.) I spent a fortune of my time left to get to the office in that bathroom, not only enjoying a lighter pelvic area, but also tidying up, prettying up and deciding whether to give this man some money for his kindness because I wasn't about to buy his very un-delectable items behind their glass casings. I decided, even though the bathroom was putrid and leaked (but had soap and toilet paper, thank Allah) that I would give him some change. He was absolutely shocked and said 'no no no, ma'am. You go. No need.' Great. I must've said 'Shukran' five times, even as I was out the door.

At the correct bus stop now, I discovered the small perks of being a female member of an Emirati society. In the distance, about 12 of us watched with furrowed sweating brows as the 44 bus rippled its way towards us in all the unseen heat devouring us. When it squeaked to a stop and hummed two cars away in light traffic, there was jostling. We had been melting a full 30 minutes for this bus. So definitely jostling, or else wait an hour for the next and faint. An indian man offered me his sweaty armpits as he tried to stink his way to the front. Screeeech. Hissssss. Bus. Doors swing open, threatening to flatten any outstretched limb, and the driver eyeballs us in our imaginary sidewalk sardine tin.

"Get back! Ladies first!" If only the rest of the world worked this way with their queues, OH what blissful lives women could lead. I guess it's to make up for all the other stories we hear about women out here (oops! foul mouth). There were also stickers on the windows of the first 5 rows or so that read 'Reserved For Ladies Only', then plexiglass, then several more rows of men with their heads out in the aisle. Needless to say, once the women jostled past, hiding smirks, tucking their colourful sari fabrics and bejeweled black burka skirts under their happy bums, half the men waiting to get on outside were given the cold shoulder (or bus door, I should say).
"No more room. SORRY!" chuckled the bus driver, revving up and speeding off. A few stops away, he was a little more generous, letting a few newcomers stand in the aisle.

"Ganda! Ganda! Ganda!" he shouted, gesturing for them to squeeze themselves, and their many scents, back to the men's section.

Two Filipina women at the front giggled into their Chinese fans.
"Hehe, Ganda. Beautiful." ('ganda' means beautiful in tagalog)

That kind of chaotic cosmopolitan togetherness really gets me all the time. I smiled with them.

Anyway, I got to the office at 9:45am, 45 minutes too late; not that anyone noticed because Claire Turrell, Editor in Chief of Viva Magazine, and my main source of correspondance, was not in today, had been sick for roughly a week now and hadn'f informed anyone of my arrival.

"We thought you were coming in May!"
"Yes, well, that was the original plan. But I got stuck in London doing this and that and arranged for June instead with Claire. So...here I am?"
"Well, we haven't actually planned anything. Hmmm...what can we give you to do?"

Not much. The June issue of Viva came out today, meaning a slow office day was expected until things started heating up later on in the month to get July's sassed up and sorted. All I did was call up a few companies to query the prices of some of their beauty products, conspire some letters to the editor on the last issue, seeing as not many readers felt the need to comment on Kate Hudson being on the cover or how much they enjoyed or abhorred so and so article on so and so page. "Dear Viva, it was SUCH a pleasure to read up on the debate on whether women should take back a cheating lover. I was surprised to find that some women out there still have that level of perseverance, patience and pathetic-ness to give the lying bastard wanker a second chance. I for one..." Yes.

And then I was set up with a temporary log in account in which I typed up such letters, as well as a list of past 'Careers' Features in their archives for the new writer so she could make sure she wasn't regurgitating anything recently written. Then much banter, gasps and sighs about the tragedy of the 'Sex and the City' movie not gracing our shores, and explaining to the new writer/resident that single women who got pregnant in the Gulf are immediately deported, and what each of us would do in such a situation. Half the team agreed that they would get hitched with the sole male member of Viva staff.

Then, for about 3 hours, while licking the side of my lip to re-confirm that there was no leftover hummus from lunch lying there, and twirling my office chair while reading some Amy Tan, one of the girls turned to me and said I should probably just leave early today and start full-force tomorrow. So 'tis the plan. And now that I'm waking at ungodly hours, working 9-6, braving scorching weather conditions in fashionable office garb while getting glamorously lost in an ever-growing, ever-ambitious city, and travelling roughly 6 hours a day, I have a curfew. And that would be now. So, 'til Day 2, Salaam!

CALLING ALL FASHIONISTAS!

2008-05-31T13:20:00.001+04:00

Is someone living in your closet?
No really.
Go check.

FICTION FRIDAY: THE LECTURER!

2008-05-30T08:47:00.004+04:00

A spy falls in love...
As often happens, Leone wrote this very quickly, on the edge of a deadline. The word count was 500, which felt very challenging. Draft 1 was over 2000 words, and that was all background. Second draft nailed it: 499. This story is based on a conversation Leone had with her mum one Christmas in New York. The story was published as part of a fold out ‘book map’ and sold at the Commonwealth Games in 2007.

So Leone is my lecturer. She's effing awesome. This piece is great. It was incorporated into our Reader for Writing Fiction 2 class. And now it is being incorporated into Fiction Friday. It's short so...READ!

LA VIE EN ROSE

2008-05-30T08:27:00.003+04:00

An outfit apparently perfect fot getting ridonculously lost in Dubai.

CLEAR DE WAY!

2008-05-29T17:31:00.019+04:00

FWTT? Uhhh yes. My hometown Trinidad and Tobago launched its first ever annual Fashion Week a couple days ago (26th-31st May). I am still anxiously awaiting pictures from the event to share with you, so hold tight. I only found out about it because my friend just put up a shaky album on Facebook. So above is one of the few distinct shots she managed to get.

“Trinidad & Tobago has so much to offer outside of sun, sand and sea. It is our fashion, culture, music, and food that make us who we are. Our hope is that the established and up and coming fashion designers participating in this show will attract buyers and fashion media from around the world and generate buzz in the industry,” says Jason Baptiste, TDC marketing manager.

-Caribbean Net News

The other models are draped in the same ole same ole kaftan-esque/glamourous beachwear junk I have been seeing on Trinidadian catwalks from day one of my youth. I am looking for something a little more promising this year as I imagine they would take it up a notch for their debut Fashion Week. And I imagine my friend's pictures are only from one show so...my fingers are still crossed, and crossed so tight they're chafing. So I'll get back to you as soon as possible!

Meanwhile, in a fashion industry on the other side of the world...

VIVA MAGAZINE INTERNSHIP STARTS IN 2 DAYS! Not posting much today as I have been out since 7am getting lost in Dubai with a Filipina woman who was extremely late for a secretarial interview...which, when we later met up again (lost) and jumped on the same bus home, she told me she got the job. GOOD FOR HER! I, however, got nothing done in the space of 8 hours spent in the city, jumping on and off buses, making calls, asking directions, blistering my feet, nearly fainting from the heat and starving to save money to get home. So I STILL don't know how to get to the Viva Magazine office for my internship which starts Sunday (yes, Monday is Sunday in the U.A.E. and Thursday is Friday. Clear?) Anyway, so all in all, to ASSUME, is to make an ASS out of U and ME. And that is what I did. Will procrastinate again tomorrow. Ciao for now!

P.S. If you ever come to the U.A.E. for work, make sure you have a license and can rent a car, or buy one. The transportation system sucks! It's like a melee of hitch-hiking and Sunday morning fish markets.

GIVING TO THE POOR

2008-05-28T01:50:00.019+04:00

You've been deprived for several days. I've said it many a time. But that's because I actually itch when I'm behind on something really important to me (like my class summer reading), especially when people are depending on me. It seems some of you take a daily (or maybe weekly?) interest in what I have to say so...I've gone and gathered some web trinkets for your reading pleasure, also so I can get a good night's guilt-free sleep tonight.

Because I am currently traipsing the walk of shame for forgetting my mother's birthday, New York Magazine's guide to Last Minute Gifts

Wired gives us a taste of some of Japan's more interesting hotels: Fantasy Love Hotels. Bring on the kink!

The King of Bollywood (Amitabh Bachchan) has a blog!

AWESOME! Smart kitchenware for dumb people at bookofjoe. Pairs totally well with gradient fashion when warm. That's hot!

Cracked.com introduces us to 8 child prodigies so amazing they'll ruin your day. I've actually followed one of them since I was about 10 or so, back when my violin was cheap, red, lacquered and Chinese.

Read like a man! The 100 books that made it into The Essential Man's Library at the Art of Manliness blog...*ziplocks lips*

Mad Style here, here, here, here, here, here, and here; courtesy The Commodified.

BABY WENT TO AMSTERDAM

2008-05-27T01:32:00.007+04:00

ANDREW LEFT! He's off in Amsterdam now, on some relative's boat by day, partying in the unknown underground by night. Jealous with an exaggeratedly capital 'J'. ENJOY, MY PET!
Sneaky cow...

SALAAM INSTEAD OF HELLO

2008-05-27T01:04:00.028+04:00

Finally. I'm home. Abu Dhabi. My friends back in Trinidad would wring my neck for saying that. Always a true trini, but with many a home elsewhere. I'm tired talking about the strenuous week I was under, packing and moving, so I won't apologise any further for my absence.

Nothing much is going on at the moment though. I went to Chili's rather reluctantly for lunch today with my brother and his girlfriend, (after consulting my I-Ching), which surprisingly turned out to be great fun, even though it took me 20 minutes to receive my guacamole for my shrimp quesadillas. And while poking at each other's chins coquettishly, my sibling and his other half argued over whether a diced vegetable on his plate was cucumber or zucchini. Apart from the girl's keen interest in green foods, she seemed rather caught up in every little bit of ramble I had to say; with eager nodding of her sweet little head and epileptic fits of laughter. And already, I have excited invitations to a club this weekend called Zenith ("just dress like a slut and you'll get in"), her birthday party and their prom.

"Your brother's friend Grahm can be your date. Do you have a dress?"
Honey, I ALWAYS have a dress. And no, 17 year old Grahm can't. Not happening. Zenith? I will consider. I am yet to be turned down by a bouncer.

She also cheerfully said she'd like to see me drunk, and has heard many a drunken tale of mine.
"Really," I muttered, un-impressed and eyeing my brother.

We were also with her older sister who was calling up friends complaining that she found a picture of herself clubbing on Facebook and that it needed to be eradicated....fast. ahhhh muslim life...

That's all the tales I have for today. I'm spending quality time with the old man; movie marathon with our respective laptops and dead silence, save for "pass the popcorn, please." I tell you, we are the exact same person, minus the nose hair and male parts. 'The Prestige' is next! Salaam!

FICTION FRIDAY: COURTESY THE BUNNY BLOG

2008-05-23T19:42:00.008+04:00

OH MAN...3 days since my last post. Lonely Londoner packing is a biznitch! Apologies. But things will soon get very interesting around here as the internship approaches! Exactly one week from Sunday. I'm officially moving out of campus today (as in 20 minutes) and then flying out of here on Sunday afternoon. I have such a bad back right now. Never again. No no no no no.

ANYWAY, Without further ado...

This terribly lengthy yet fantastically good read on Summer Camp

ALSO...

P.S. The Bunny is a writer though, and a damn good bi-sexual one at that!

READING BETWEEN THE LINES

2008-05-20T18:10:00.035+04:00

So, last Fiction Friday, a restless, ugly, bitter, frustrated, depressed, confused, distressed, angered, weak, selfish, panicky Lonely Londoner sat in her white hot bathroom on the cold yellow tiles, took a sharpened pair of scissors and carefully cut a line into her right thigh. Yes, I am a fleeting cutter. Actually, this is the first time I've had the urge since 2006. So, the American X suggested getting back fully into my yoga and Buddhist practices, particularly the I-Ching or Book of Changes. Ever heard? Anyway, as all my belongings have taken up all my floor space what with all the packing and moving off of campus going on this week, and since the book was delivered to me bright and early this morning, (also since I'm constantly fascinated by prying into more corners of Asian culture) I went with the I-Ching. I'll tell you about it.
"The I-Ching takes a decidedly realistic view of the world. It doesn't mislead us into thinking that evil - in ourselves, in others, in the world at large- can be eliminated once and for all. It acknowledges that we all have in our characters both positive and negative elements, and it teaches us to be led by our superior qualities so that our thoughts and actions are free of inferior influences. It also teaches us how to respond to negative influences outside ourselves in order to avoid harm and maintain our well-being."

"The qualities that the Book of Changes counsels us to embody in our lives are modesty, awareness, acceptance, adaptability, compassion, restraint, innocence, perseverance, tolerance, reticence, devotion to inner truth, patience, openness, detachment, conscientiousness, balance and inner independence. The qualities that the I-Ching urges us to let go of are fear, anger, desire, arrogance, aggressiveness, anxiety, harshness, cunning, goal orientation and self-indulgence. At this point these are merely words. It is only when we begin to follow the guidance of the I-Ching that we begin to have an inkling of their true meaning."

So basically, after that, you shake three coins, heads have a value of 3, tails a value of 2. Add them up. For each number that is even draw a broken line, and for each number that is odd, draw an unbroken one; putting the number you got next to the line. You throw the coins 6 times. So you will have 6 broken or unbroken lines on a page, with the first line drawn starting at the bottom.

Then, there's this chart...So, basically lines 1-3 (the bottom three lines) make up the lower trigram, and 4-6 on top make up the upper trigram. And the number on the chart that lies at their intersection indicates which hexagram you threw, and which hexagrams you should turn to for advice for this particular session. There are a lot of twists, like, for the first hexagram you draw, you only read the advice from the lines that have "changed", meaning the ones that came up to a value of either 6 or 9 in the coins. And then, for the second hexagram, (which is based on the lines you get from inverting the "changed" lines, you only read the opening paragraph, as it is merely read 'to further illuminate the instruction of the first'.

So, you can turn to the I-Ching if you have a specific question in mind, or if you just feel troubled, or some people throw hexagrams every morning to direct the path of their day. Asian culture is ram-packed with superstition so...technically, this is like a more fun, advanced and interactive Hosroscope, and I tend not to like living my life based on what someone or something says it's going to be like. I'm more of a hippie, if you will. But, it seems I need to try some direction. I'm way too lost at this stage to do the whole 'go with the flow' thing. So, this is an experiment.

So, yes, some people let this be the breakfasts of their day and wholly live by it, but my hexagrams today, among other tidbits of advice, say I should know my limit and try not to strain myself, so I'm probably not going to stick to this/report to you everyday. Although if and when you get the book, your personal hexagrams will instruct you differently, I will try loosely (it's a lot of info.) to share with you what I received from time to time, because it's still great advice. But not today because 1) I'd like to explore the book further on my own and really understand my advice and, 2) this post is already too frickin' long.

I KNOW, I DON'T KNOW

2008-05-20T13:58:00.005+04:00

My EXACT thought process can be bought for $32 at Blood is the New Black, canvassed on a pink Jesse Spears t-shirt. I should probably sue...

MOVE, BITCH!

2008-05-20T02:40:00.023+04:00

Ah, yes. Moving time. I've sent in my deposit return form, rung the Daddy about flight dates, rung the aunty about car hire, lugged the storage boxes down the street and settled into a precarious city of towering piles of my campus collectibles.

Still no sign of a future place to live though. And so it goes...But screw it. Home is calling me. Mother's cooked food is calling me. A bed twice this size with significantly cleaner sheets and more bounce is calling me. I can go on, but will desist in an attempt to ward off depression. The parental unit called, and I said get me outta here by Saturday!

But I wonder how many other students are packing and hitting the road like me...
three pairs are missing from this by the way.

Merely the scarf section of my accessories (the lightest section too)

I did all that folding two seconds ago through Sex and the City Season 2! TOO PROUD! Now to choose...what's going in the summer trunks and what stays in storage...

Good deed for the day: distributed all my magazines to the campus clinic, counselling suite and Queen Mary's Hospital across the road. Best reading material they would've had in their waiting areas for centuries! (Thanks for all the contraceptives and sexual health screenings! Yes, T.M.I. but is that not what this blog is all about?)

Half of my bag collection

Jewelry and hair accessories sorted nicely today!

Why do I have a decorating scheme in dorms?

ALSO, NOT SHOWN: Electronics, a significant chunk of the rest of my accessories, many many books (come on, Creative Writing major), noticeboard, a few handbags that can't be folded, a fedora that is bound to get smashed, an appalling amount of toiletries/pharmaceuticals, bedding and towels, my impressive sweater collection and kitchen utensils. Pretty stoked I'm not the rice cooker type and live out of a Che Guevara tea mug. Now all I need is a willing strapping young man to help a Lonely Londoner out! POO!

ANYWAY! After overdosing on Sex and the City Seasons 1 and 2 all weekend, I realised how fun, fabulous and frivolous life can be. That is why I have decided to have a Daphne Guinness-esque clearout sale when I head over to Trinidad this summer (OOH! AHH! Goodies from a 1st world country!) Sorry, a tad mean. But a girl could do with some cash, and I see a thick wad ahead of me. A detox is always good. Imagine the new and fabulous things I could buy next!

OH PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!

2008-05-18T21:15:00.022+04:00

...Let me have a love interest for my 20th birthday. A romantic nook atop my new favourite hang? Yes, please! This is the coolest place EVER(!) , which is why I may have to reconsider my heading to Japan for Seijin No Hi on my 20th. This way I'd actually have friends around and wouldn't be burning too big of a hole in my pocket.
I hang out at the Troubadour from time to time when I feel like a motivated bedhead sexy and chic writer...and when daddy's little girl's allowance rolls in at HSBC. A bit steep for a student, but I never act like one anyway (for example no. 2 on this list). I finished up the last of my essays there eating vegetarian breakfast at 2pm (serves 'til 3). After that, I just shifted into lunch time and ordered a dessert. Sipping my superb hot chocolate, I scanned the noticeboard and saw they offered a yoga class some mornings in their Gallery! Yes, they have an art gallery too; and a club GOD KNOWS WHERE, that's featured acts in the past such as Bob Dylan and Jimi Hendrix! One of my new faves The XX is playing there on June 20th...when I'll be interning in Dubai (mopes inappropriately since I'll be working for a major fashion magazine and have seen them perform twice, AND plan to see them on the 23rd).

Plus the interior of the place makes you feel so god-damn slick just to be sitting in there. It's like a vintage indie version of TGIF's decor what with the hanging trinkets all over the walls. Very shady...like a hangover den! ha! The windows are crowded with colourful rusty watering cans, and a pitchfork on the wall threatens to puncture some diner's head below. Awesome. And not that you'd need it once eating there, but there's a Starbucks five paces away. I love me my 'bucks...Perfect for the morning after though!..staying at their suite. OOOOHHH! SO EXCITED!

Anyway, I also decided when I come back from the break that I will just apply to do barwork there. They are constantly looking for people. And I think as a yoga buff, new art and music enthusiast, with a penchant for being surrounded by alcohol, and already having bartending experience, this is kind of effing perfect for me :)

P.S. Walkabout tonight!

SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE

2008-05-17T19:55:00.005+04:00

Trudging around London Bridge for roughly 7 hours on a photo safari in the wrong pair of shoes yesterday means not much happening today. It also means I can allow myself several hundred sinful Saturday calories (AH! Did you hear that Consonance? 'SSSSS' Lovely. I'm such a dork) Yes, it's an extremely taboo student weekend, but it's only 5 o'clock...

GET CRACKALACKIN'

2008-05-17T10:45:00.004+04:00

My friend comes up to me on Facebook and says he loves my blog and knows who Dita is. He actually posted a status about how over the flippin' moon he was about her touring soon in Canada and how SO THERE he will be. Well, hello? Comment much?

IS MUSIC YOUR HOT HOT SEX?

2008-05-17T05:07:00.014+04:00

So, my friend started this quarterly magazine called The Dap. Just spreading the love:

WANT TO WRITE FOR 'THE DAP'?

Ok so its easy:

Step 1-Find a band/ album/ single/ live gig you really really liked or hated...

Step 2 -Write up to 200 words at the most all album/ single reviews

500 words for any band profile/ interviews and live gig event

Step 3-Email The Dap at: thedapmagazine@hotmail.co.uk...

If it doesn't get into the magazine , then we will try our best to put it on the website when thats fully up and running.

(I TOTALLY know my first feature)

GOSSIP ON THE GOSSIP

2008-05-17T04:36:00.014+04:00

This is me and Graduation Doll Olive from Singapore experiencing our first episode of Gossip Girl on a Friday night. We just HAD to see what all the other fashionista bloggers were ranting and raving about:

"What did you think, Oli?"

"Um, ew. Not for us intellectual types, thanks. You're so gonna rape Hollywood in their butts when you make it big with your screenplays, babe. I wish Gossip Girl would shut the fuck up and let ME internalize what just happened. Her voice is way too smug too. Bitch. And if I were Blair, damn straight I'd be an evil bitch too. Why does the blonde have to be so 'yeah, I know. It's all in the past' about my man? Bitch, being drunk doesn't mean license for best friend to fuck boyfriend. AND THEEEN, that guy? Chuck? With the ever-ready boner? Acts and looks JUST LIKE your second to last ex-boyfriend. Nuh uh. Recipe for disaster."

"I concur. Let's go read some I-Ching."

FICTION FRIDAY: DITA....AGAIN

2008-05-16T21:48:00.012+04:00

Dear all who care,

I am sorry I am doing this again, as in featuring a piece by a major celebrity whose pen name is Dita (whom you guys have not even bothered to guess who it may be). But today just never ended. I left the house at some ungodly hour to meet my friend who came in from Trinidad this morning, as I mentioned previously. So I had to help him sort his shit out and then entertain him for a bit. Turns out he likes to wander around and take artistic photos for hours, and I wore EXACTLY the wrong pair of shoes. So now I shall remain crippled in bed for the rest of my Friday night.

But I DID run smack into major british designer Henry (motherfuckin' modest) Holland (yeah, he looked quite regular actually) at Victoria station on his way to Gatwick Airport. Yes, I ogled slightly unnaturally, but it got him to give me his attention for all of 5 seconds! Didn't take a picture. Too busy posing. Sorry. And yes, of course he wore Doc Martens.

FICTION FRIDAY! A letter this time. Look, I swear, I will make this writing corner more worthwhile as time passes (I'm not always THAT sleazy in my writing piece choices). It's just things are a little crazy around here as I'm flat-hunting and moving out of dorms and leaving for home and an internship in Dubai in a week. Yeah. So can I get some slack?

ALL APOLOGIES

2008-05-16T01:23:00.002+04:00

Sorry. No worthwhile posts today. Meltdown.

RUTH TARVYDAS

2008-05-15T16:51:00.004+04:00

Who the hell is that? Anyway. Basically, I have to have the tights featured in her Fall/Winter 2008 collection.
Or basically, I can just take a knife to my own regular pair. Yeah.

THE TEN THINGS: EXCEPT CUT IN HALF

2008-05-14T20:08:00.075+04:00

1. EMAILSSSSS! I get the coolest emails nowadays. Well, not so much from letting agents. But Joe from bookofjoe totally thinks I'm a babe. He's sort of a blogosphere celebrity in my book. (thanks for the feature!). He gave me some blogger tips too:

"Dear Kara,

I'm so flattered about how you view me: for the longest time I've thought of myself as "a legend in my own mind."

Nothing you could do could annoy me: I mean, come on, you're smart + a babe, that's an irresistible combination in my book.

I wouldn't call myself a professional, in that I don't do it for money or anything, but I sure spend far more time and energy on bookofjoe than any other aspect of my life.

I got popular by doing a few simple but not as easy as they might seem things:

1) Posting regularly. Daily, without exception, no excuses. Even if it's only a word or a phrase or a sentence, your audience can be certain there'll always be something fresh on your site. The internet loathes stasis.

2) Being yourself. Kara Martin is a unique combination of experience and attitude: show them to us. The more your essence comes across, the closer the bond, albeit virtual, that extends between you and your audience.

3) Pick a good name for your blog. thelonelylondoner is superb, you're there already.

That's more than enough.

Keep on being Kara, I say.

Yours,

Joe."

Also, The Look magazine is putting on this uber event that I simply must attend. And The Lonely Londoner gets what she wants:

"Hi Kara,

We've reserved a ticket for you, just turn up and give your name to the person on the door.

Thanks,

Tai."

Can you say 'baller'?

2. I won't be a lonely londoner for a few days because....FRIENDS ARE COMING! My honey Andrew from Trinidad and Tobago is coming up on Friday to begin his Eurotrip and we're going to do a little Caribbean damage about the town. We're actually both discussing how to get to the International Students House on messenger as I type this. Also where we're going to get drunk first, naturally. (FUN FACT: He was my high school prom date!...and he's going to absolutely hate me for digging this up)

3. Heinz 'Mac n Cheese' in a can is significantly more horrible than that prom photo.

4. My big floral hold-all from Gap is a lifesaver when you are trying to be eco-friendly and one of the plastic bags you HAD to take because you bought so much bursts on you on the sidewalk. Worthy of my shoulder all summer, no?
5. Because I have to be black at some point (sorry about my pigeon-holing, but I am such an Oreo, you would not believe), I confess, I cannot get enough of Snoop Dogg's semi-new song 'Sensual Seduction/Sexual Eruption(?).' I heard that out clubbing last night and it's amazing the things my body did in response on that dancefloor. The video is also LAUGH OUT LOUD ridonculous. Acutally, I LOVE everything Snoop does. Sometimes he even has better hair than me (CERTAINLY NOT in that video though) , but that's okay. 'Nuff respect'.

CAMPUS LIFE

2008-05-14T16:41:00.003+04:00

If you're gonna live it, you better love it. You should ideally be drunk 3/4 of the time to survive. Leaving this in roughly 10 days. Thought I'd reminisce. You will ABSOLUTELY NOT be missed.

AWOL-ness

2008-05-13T18:16:00.004+04:00

Hi.
Um...
Been a while, I know. Truth is, I have nothing to talk about really. I've been flat-hunting for September which is proving fruitless and it's too hot around here these days to do anything but lounge and gaze. So I've been lounging and gazing; with the occasional movie (watched a documentary on Metal, The Jane Austen Book Club and American Beauty) and the occasional book (am reading The Inheritance of Loss and The Snows of Kilimanjaro). There might have also been some absynthe, tequila with the worm at the bottom, menthol cigarettes, karaoke and regrets. Might have...

Ugh. I hate my life. Seriously.

Also, these shoes suck. They ate my feet off. FUCKERRSSS!!!

IF YOU'RE A LONDONER...

2008-05-11T04:48:00.010+04:00

...you are not going to believe

a) How much I paid for these.

Then, knowing how much I paid, you should be able to guess

b) where I got them, and then

c) Hurry your ass down there!

THE DEFINITION OF GUSHING

2008-05-11T02:53:00.021+04:00

dazed and confused says:
I'm going to peru in September

Kara-San says:
OMG. I've been longing to go there. I was actually planning a trip there this summer with friends, fell through.

dazed and confused says:
inca trail, jungle, roast gunea pig...the works

Kara-San says:
Wow...I'm gushing, that's too cool. You will keep me posted, won't you?

dazed and confused says:
gushing??!!

Kara-san says:
as in gushing in the face...? it just means i'm very excited...expression-wise. Not....THAT...gushing.

dazed and confused says:
oh......must be dubai thing

Kara-san says:
no...it's an english thing lol

dazed and confused says:
blimey..I've learnt somethig tonight. I shall use it at work

Kara-san says:
well...english as in...its an english word...not LONDONER english per say....i'm not really sure...i just...learnt it...from reading...

dazed and confused says:
that's what reading will do to you....you kids never learn

Kara-san says:
Ahh, here it is....http://dictionary.reference.com/search?r=2&q=gushing
with references to sexy women gushing on the right hand side HAHA

dazed and confused says:
Hmmm...female gushing mpegs.......I'll have to bookmark that

I'M THINKING...

2008-05-10T22:15:00.004+04:00

Tonight I'd like to meet up with someone and have a really obscure conversation about everything. We'd sit on the edge of existence sipping from a bottle of liquor in a ridiculous paperbag. Does anyone want to do this? Message me.

FICTION FRIDAY: DITA WRITES

2008-05-10T02:02:00.006+04:00

11pm. PHEW! Nearly didn't make it. Long day of frolicking, lost track of time. Here it is though. Guess which mega-celebrity wrote this and more under the pen name Dita? Click to Enlarge. Then Enjoy.

SHE ROCKS TOO HARD

2008-05-08T17:44:00.004+04:00

[Facehunter]

BROWN PAPER PACKAGES TIED UP WITH STRING...

2008-05-08T17:10:00.010+04:00

Ooohhh! It feels like Christmas. I was greeted with these this morning; some of my summer reading list and a gig ticket for tonight's show. I'm aiming for one book a week. But no pressure...

Okay. Back to watching 'The Joy Luck Club' and crying all over myself (I'm pretty sure I have to change my contraception). Then I'm going to cook pasta so I don't have a barf fest later what with all the boozing I am SO doing tonight. It's been a while.

LES SAVY FAV

2008-05-07T14:18:00.003+04:00

So, I'm going to see this fat ass and company perform tomorrow night at the Works for my friend Anant's birthday. I think I'm in for a killer night...except I'm still waiting on my ticket in the post...

LES SAVY FAV:

['AWW COME ON!' FACEBOOK UPDATE: Today 5:07pm]

Just got an email, Les Savy Fav have had to cancel cos they cant get work permits in time - should still be alright tho! 'We are the Physics' are still playing - and they're good! Also,because they've pulled out, it means tickets have gone down to £4, so we can claim £2 back on the door! nice!

(At least £2 means an extra pint! YARRRR!)

CREATURES OF COMFORT

2008-05-07T09:17:00.041+04:00

NEW STUMBLE-UPON! I'm kind of really obsessed with this accidental find of a website, Creatures of Comfort. I found it because I was hunting for LD Tuttle shoes and they were listed as retailers. Only thing is it's a little out of my price range and based in the US. Damn UK Debit Card. Will probably have to pick my essential favourites and ask the American X for a little help. Only problem is....this is the list...

Burfitt's 'Alexander McQueen-esque' pieces. Look familiar?

These ones remind me of the pair of shoes Charlotte Gainsbourg made in the movie 'The Science of Sleep' hehe. SO CUTE!:These are from my new favourite boot designer, who will be featured shortly, once their website stops 'taking the piss', LD Tuttle:

This vest is just kind of fucking phenomenal. Fits so perfectly:

Kinda bummed about this can opener necklace because I've been rocking it for YEARS with a regular coke can top, even in the shower. Doesn't rust and SURE AS HELL doesn't cost $197. Please don't buy this:
DIY, baby:My favourite item out of all would certainly have to be this Driftwood skull ring:Would go great with the LD Tuttle boots above for a very 'Pirates of the Caribbean' look hehe. And the Burfitt skirt with the ropes! YEAH!

THE GONDRY EFFECT

2008-05-06T14:50:00.037+04:00

Just finished 'The Science of Sleep' and wish I hadn't. I am so lame that I didn't realise the director, Michel Gondry, was my God, having done 'Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind', a plethora of Bjork videos and well, 'Be Kind Rewind' (which was actually really awesome and made me cry!). Scroll down here to check out this disease he's got called Impressivitis. I am so stoked for the arrival of his films 'Tôkyô!', 'Migel Munya' and 'Master of Space and Time', and have kind of decided to study the guy. And OMG his birthday is fuckin' Thursday (May 8th). Have some Gondry Goodness:

'The Work of Michel Gondry' Trailer:

Short Film 'La Lettre':

Levi's ad:

Experiments with Bjork:

Gondry solves a Rubiks Cube:

HAHA This White Stripes video is too funny:

Short Film 'One Day':

Let Forever Be- The Chemical Brothers:

Crash Course in Guerilla film-making:

Short Film 'Tiny' (lol experimentally cute):

'Declare Independence'-Bjork:

THE TEN THINGS

2008-05-06T07:11:00.030+04:00

1. SUMMER SEGMENTS! Or Spring rather. A natural wonder spread across the fields of Hitsujiyama Park in Chichibu, Japan. Moss Phlox flowers.

2. I had a dream about it being really early morning. I was sleeping in my parent's bed but they were not around. My sister was making racket outside and knocking on my door and trying to get me to wake up and come out and go sailing with her. She wouldn't stop begging. I just ignored her. Eventually I got so fed up and wanted to get back to sleep so I flung the door open to yell and there was Ellen Page looking at me, smiling. She said it was her all along, and she really really really needed me to go with her because I knew how to handle the boat better and she was scared to go on her own. It was so early it was still dark out, and the waves would be major and thrashing and angry. So, because it was Ellen Page, my girl crush, I started getting dressed slowly. She told me that Diablo Cody(Juno screenwriter) always talked about me, my work, my writing, how great I was at my craft; and said she was always quoting me. And she was serious too. And that's why this was a dream. Anyway, it ends off, I think, with me saying 'Well tell Diablo I said I think she's fuckin' hot.'

3. I got a Facebook Friend Request from Sherel. Still not believing that she blocked me in the heat of fury. Anyway, there is no explanation for why we are now friends and talking again like...a month later. She just up and texted me one day while I was at a bus stop at 2am somewhere...and we've planned to meet up for drinks this week like nothing ever went down. Okay. I can dig it.

4. So I just spent roughly £6 on this Keracare foam wrap set formula to attempt wrapping my hair at night to keep it smooth and stuff instead of rowdy and chaotic when I wake but I have serious skills issues. How come all other black girls wrap their hair effortlessly as if they were born doing it save for me?! UGH I'm such a fuckin' Oreo! It's in a fuckin' ponytail for bed. FUCK THAT!

5. I can't believe how hot I am.

6. I went to the library at 9am for some reason today, to get out copies of 'A Moveable Feast' and 'The Lonely Londoners' but apparently, today was a bank holiday (so they were opening at 11am). So, I jumped on a happy sunny bus with happy sunny people to Marble Arch and went on a ridiculously fruitful Primark shopping spree, where I faced my fears and dug into size 8 pants (rather than my usual size 10) and I came out with the sexiest motherfuckin' pair of tight as lycra black skinny jeans. Jen from Gnarlitude ain't got nothin' on me in them jeans. SHIT. As soon as I came home I just HAD to set myself a task in them. So I braved the student-infested lawn and went to get a coke from the vending machine. This hot lounging blonde guy reacted instantly! ...Okay, but not to my jeans. He said, 'Wow, that girl's sunglasses are fucking epic.' That's okay though. I still took it and flipped my hair and ignored him and walked on in my metal band tshirt and SEXXXYYYY JEAANSSS (AHH!). But I really have to question his whereabouts over the past year, as my sunglasses were only the increasingly popular red wayfarers featured in my blog's header :s

7. I find it really difficult to produce a short story now that it is not required of me. But today, after my Primark haunt, I sat in Starbucks for roughly two hours and wrote several pages of any and everything for the first time since school got out. I'm really worried about this in the future though...It seems like story ideas have evaded me with the arrival of vacation.

8. Four words on film. The Science of Sleep. Rent it, buy it, burn it, steal it, just so long as you see it. Gael Garcia Bernal and Charlotte Gainsbourg!!!

9. I have nuff love for my friend Damian. He messaged me to find out the dates I'll be in Trinidad this summer because he's having a major joint birthday party with his girlfriend and isn't holding it unless I am there. AND I'M SO THERE, BABE! And organizing the DJ it seems...And I'm thinking that I just might re-do my 19th with them too because I didn't get a fair shot this time around what with all my crying and depression over getting old. Yeah, I have incomprehensible issues and am probably making my entire reader population feel geriatric. Sorry.

10. There's something you should know. I own retainers. I make everything cool though so they are hot pink. My teeth are back to their old shifty ways so I am going to start back wearing them as much as possible this summer. I'm talking to myself to hear the slight lisp it creates when you are re-familiarizing yourself with them. I guess I'll have to remain speechless for a couple days.

THE TEN THINGS

2008-05-05T00:13:00.007+04:00

1.Everybody is Ugly.

2. There is Crime Scene tape draped all down my street. I swished under them while slurping loudly on my iced coffee.

3. Some things are just shit. And that's what Item of the Day and Japanese Phrase of the Day were. So they had to be chucked. And so they are.

4. Getting my hair dyed black actually did not make me feel new and dark and happy like it usually does. It actually makes me look and feel dull, bland, boring, sad, droopy and dark dark brown.

5. I just looked up the word 'commandment'.

6. It took me 6 hours to reach the 52 minute mark of 'Interview with the Vampire' last night/this morning.

7. I am about to attempt minute 53.

8. I wanted to go to Camden Market today. Wanted to. I hate 'wanted to'.

9. I should be at Walkabout in Shepherd's Bush right now, but I am yawning.

10. Finally. I am yawning.

THE 8AM ICON

2008-05-04T11:08:00.007+04:00

How 'rockin'-it-without-words' is Siouxsie Sioux? For some reason, I never finished Interview with the Vampire and started listening to their epic tunes (yes, the allnighter is still under way). It makes me so mad that Limewire doesn't have 'Forever'

I go to Youtube to hear 'Forever'. So weep-worthy.

LIFE IS A SERIES OF SIGHS

2008-05-04T09:08:00.002+04:00

AWWWW I miss fights with my ex-boyfriend, as crushing as they were in media res. But the make-up... everything was worth it.

SEVERAL THINGS ABOUT SATURDAY

2008-05-04T04:17:00.059+04:00

Whoa. I can't sleep right. So, I woke up a couple times for the unruly buzz of my cellphone and a knock at the door, which I was so shocked by that I didn't even answer (no one in this flat knows I'm alive. Why would that happen?), but other than that, I literally slept all day. So tonight is going to be interesting. I'll tell you ALLLLL about it.

What's so funny is that the latest song stuck in my head is 'Gubbish' by Chad Vangaalen. Its lyrics go something like this. NOT ONLY that song though! 'Asleep' by The Smiths won't stop popping up when I put my iPod on Shuffle. (Okay we know that's also about suicide but DON'T think so deeply. It's about sleep too)

So I'm taking matters into my own mouth. I'm doing sleeping pills. The date will be set for tomorrow (well today, later, whatever). (Okay we know I sound suicidal and have suicidal tendencies but don't think so deeply. This is about sleep too). I will take them at 10pm and hopefully that will set things straight from there. I have not been on the right time zone since 2006. I've been up and down from Trinidad to Abu Dhabi to London to San Francisco and back, this way and that way, whichever way is cheapest; because my old friends are in Trinidad, my family is now in Abu Dhabi, my school life and flat is in London and my boyfriend (now ex) was in SF. So, it's just never stopped. It's amazing how far apart they all are too, just to stretch my fucked-up-ness even more to the limit.

Usually when I end up pulling these all-nighters I don't fall asleep til noon, and I made an appointment to get my hair dyed black later at 2pm so I'm just gonna have to Redbull it all day long. I HAVE to stay awake. "I'm never goin' to sleep, I'm never goin' to sleep, I'm never goin' to sleep..." That song is so permanently lodged up there....*sigh*

Anyway, to make matters worse, I have a choice of two new DVD's tonight that I bought yesterday because they were dirt cheap. Wait for it....'Interview with the Vampire' and 'The Science of Sleep'. HMMM. To be the living dead or to be the dead living? To be awake or asleep? My brain has hinted enough. It's time to end this Zombie Tirade.

Maybe I should've shamelessly gone to that 'Pimps and Hoes' party at Suburban that I got invited to tonight. Could've just gotten smashed so I would've knocked out conveniently at a fairly decent 3am hour? Oh well, too late. Didn't feel like wearing THOSE BOOTS anyway. But I DID shave my legs this weekend so the mini skirt would've been fun to wear. I hardly ever shave. I opt for the long pants/jeans/leggings route. And well I'm not having sex so...psh! But a couple hours ago, since I shaved, I wore shorts to go collect my pizza and the wind felt like someone was running a silk sheet against my legs...ahhhhh *falls back into a bed of roses* pure bliss. I'll shave more now. :D

So, first thing on the agenda for tonight's sleepless activity was deciding on and ordering several books to read over summer. The class I'm taking next year, Developing the Novel, requires that we read at least 10 books over the summer, not including the Creative Writing texts they asked us to look at as well. So, I made my list:

1.The Lonely Londoners -Sam Selvon (yes, this is where I got my blog title from. I think I read this book in class back in Trinidad. He is a very famous London based Trinidadian author)

2. Johnny Panic and the Bible of Dreams - Sylvia Plath (I love Sylvia and the title rocks. Plain and simple.)

3. Candy Girl: A Year in the Life of an Unlikely Stripper- Diablo Cody (all the Juno fans should know that this is the chick who wrote the screenplay for that movie and won the Academy Award for Best Original Screenplay, and used to be a stripper, and is gorgeous, and wears gorgeous Daphne Guinness-esque rings like this!) (I will be doing more posts on her in the future. She's my new research project.)

4. The Body: And Seven Stories - Hanif Kureishi (You knew I had to put him in. I'm also struggling through 'Intimacy' and plan to finish it tomorrow at the salon. Seriously guys, get into this guy's work.)

5. A Moveable Feast - Ernest Hemingway (Sadly, this is the first book by this reclaimed suicidal author I am reading. I think anyone who writes such a beautiful short story all in dialogue, about abortion, without even mentioning the word or scenario, deserves my readership - Hills like White Elephants)

6. The Snows of Kilimanjaro: And Other Stories - Ernest Hemingway (gotta know this guy more)

7. Another Sky: Voices of Conscience from Around the World - Hani Kunzru (I heard excerpts from this at a seminar for imprisoned writers/censorship in other countries etc. It is compiled letters from prison, and they are fantastic, and real. The seminar was put on by this group I am planning to join called PEN (Poets, Playwrights, Editors, Essayists, Novelists and their translators), and they aim to 'promote literature, defend freedom of expression, and build a world community of writers'. They're based in 104 countries but here's the wesbite I have for English PEN.)

8. On the Road - Jack Kerouac (I should've read this eons ago. But I read this book about The Beat Generation of San Francisco/New York and all those cats; Ginsberg, Burroughs, Carlos Williams and Kerouac, all the amazing fag writers, and that is one of the craziest things I have ever read, along with 'Howl'. Now I know what I'm getting into and I'm ready for their prose. I remembered about it again tonight because the girl who told me to read it, a friend from Uni, she ran off to India and came back a couple days ago. I missed her a lot. So this is for her.)

9. Naked Lunch - William S. Burroughs (I know. Don't laugh. But I'm ready now.)

10. The Book of Other People: Short Stories- edited by Zadie Smith (Smith is one of my favourite writers, having read 'White Teeth' and 'On Beauty' so...anything with her name attached to it gets me going. This is compiled short stories from UK and overseas writers, including Hari Kunzru who compiled 'Another Sky' above. I figure, if she chose them, they must be damn good. So there.)

I ALSO ORDERED:

11. The Inheritance of Loss- Kiran Desai (Because I think I've read something EPIC from that author before and it's set in the Himalayas and has lots of character Point of View stuff. I realised I like lots of Asian Conflict prose. Theyre very funny and very tragic; Amy Tan's 'The Joy Luck Club', 'Bonesetter's Daughter', Ha Jin's 'Waiting', Arthur Golden's 'Memoirs of a Geisha', Dai Sijie's 'Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress', Hidier's 'Born Confused', Gita Mehta's 'A River Sutra'...I could, and BADLY want to go on...)

ANYWAY, as a result, that's why I am looking for something more on asian culture, and something on Samurai (because I still want to study their ways and become one...yea right). I'm going to also order:

12. Saving Fish from Drowning - Amy Tan (She is an asian wordsmith goddess. I heard this one isn't like her usual Chinese mother/daughter dramas though, and is actually quite disappointing, but I'll be the judge of that)

I AM ALSO TRYING TO FIND:

13. The Savage Gentleman - ? (Amazon is bringing up a buncha crap for this. I think the book might be out of print, which explains why my ex has it wrapped in plastic at home (?) "Hey, Euphemism, a little help finding this book?" Wonder if he'll read this...)

14. Indestructible Wolves of the Apocalypse Junkyard - Max G. Morton (I am so pissed about this one. Jen from Gnarlitude featured it on her blog and, since I shamelessly worship her now, I thought I'd give it a go. It sounded interestingly sick and something new for the reading palate. There are only 500 copies in print and I found one yesterday on Amazon but now it's gone. Will keep checking the website, I guess...)

ANYWAY! I made up my mind to watch 'Interview with the Vampire'. I'm going for sleepless allround tonight. And my pizza's getting cold, and my drink's getting warm, and this is way too long so, Goodnight to all those who sleep!

Nevermind...everyone's up now. Campus alarm went off. MUHAHAHA!

SUMMER SEGMENTS: TWOSEE

2008-05-03T12:21:00.011+04:00

Introducing madness by TwoSee. Watch out. This might kill you.

this skirt must be OWNED:

I would have to go ahead and say I would kill for their jewelry:

What about a knuckle full of these?:

This. is a motherfuckin' earring. that's what life is about:

FORGET BORIS!

2008-05-03T06:25:00.004+04:00

Vote NOIROHIO for vintage fashion! WOOP WOOP! (Okay, I know, I'm going to bed now.)

OH, I DUNNO

2008-05-03T05:38:00.000+04:00

Oszar blog

FICTION FRIDAY: NAMASTE

2008-05-02T19:15:00.016+04:00

HEY! How come there's no writing pieces in my mailbox from you guys? Does no one read me anymore? HELLO???

Anyway, since you didn't do homework, I came prepared:

“Danayamana Dhanurasana; Standing bow pose,” Sharif said from his perch in front of the mirrored wall. Sweat was printing out on his navy blue t-shirt like ribs.

I gave a shake to release any tension and wandering thoughts from my shining body. But then I got caught up in the mirrored wall we all faced. I raked back the straggly loose hair from my face and re-arranged my new neon pink gym bra. I watched the scrawny girl, wearing heavy waterproof make-up, in a black leotard in her usual corner spot at the front. I admired the sprawling, branching tree tattoo on the tiny Asian girl’s back in front of me. The other Fulham blondes wore expensive gym bras and bottom-defining spandex. Their diamond wedding rings lay on the floor next to them because the one hundred degrees farenheit atmosphere made us drip perfumed sweat that made them slip off their fingers anyway. The men remained bare back in nothing but soaked swim trunks and shorts.

Sharif continued soothingly into his microphone headpiece, “Try not to think about your heart racing in your chest right now. Try not to think about the sweat dripping in your eyes and tickling the little hairs on your body. Try not to think about what the other people around you are doing. Try not to compete with them.”

Everything he told me not to think about got me thinking about it. I breathed out loudly, sucked in my stomach to see my ribs in the mirror and tried to focus. This is your favourite pose. You’ve been practicing it all week. Get it right this time. Focus. Focus…

“Put your right hand out, palm facing up, like you’re a waitress holding up a tray, and lean into your left foot. Reach your right hand back to grab your right foot two inches from your toes. Lift your left arm high up in the air. STRETCH with it. REACH for that ceiling. That’s it. And when you’ve got perfect balance, lean your upper body forward.”

I started leaning immediately. The others weren’t far behind.
“REACH for that front mirror, WITHOUT looking at the people in the reflection. Focus only on yourself, and on the Standing Bow. Touch that front mirror with your extended arm. It’s okay if you don’t see your right foot behind you over your head in the mirror. In a few weeks, with practise, you will.”

It sure as hell mattered. But soon, without fail, I saw the red nail polish on my toes peak out from behind my high ponytail. I couldn’t help but look for everyone else’s toes while I lowered myself expertly.

“Maintain that perfect arch in your back, that bow. And keep that extended arm as straight as you can. That’s your arrow.”

The front row had become the perfect weapons that they were, looking at themselves in the mirror with low yogic gazes. It was so quiet, all you could hear was the shifting fabric of one of the men’s track shorts, and the steady dripping of sweat on the purple mat of the man next to me.

“Twenty more seconds.”

There was a groan in the left back corner as a woman lost grip of her leg. It slung back so fast that it made the man next to her lose his balance and fall agilely back onto his wet feet.

Shit, I thought. A tidal wave was gathering, as the people in her line of fire began to waver and lose balance, flinging their limbs around in vein to steady themselves. They all fell, one by one; a dead silent Mexican wave, coming straight at me. I looked away and ground my steady foot further into my mat.
“Keep reaching. Not long now.”

Two feeble poses away, another man fell. The man to my left remained strong, his eyes closed. But the wind, it was still coming.

“And….five, four, three…”

The cool breeze had reached me, a relief from the heat, but it swayed me. I fell in a huff.

SUMMER SEGMENTS: SHOW, DON'T TELL

2008-05-02T19:00:00.014+04:00

Those epic photographs I've been meaning to post by Hedi Slimane. I wish my summer could look like this

Yes. Ugliness/Dirtiness is the new Pretty. That is why I will not be combing my hair today to go out for lunch. Actually, that's not why, I just can't really deal with it since it's all frizzed and it looks kinda feathery and cool so I'm attempting to play it cool. 'Oh ya, I rock this all the time. I'm a bedhead girl. I wake up when you guys have your lunch breaks.'

IT'S MAY, HUH?

2008-05-02T18:37:00.009+04:00

Wow, it just came...I pretty much started the year yesterday. Ao anyway, this means new Book of the Month. Honestly, all I've managed to read is a buncha Kureishi novels (you know how wild I am about him) and I have already featured two of his books. The other books I feverishly read recently were for my course, and I sort of never want to see those books ever again (well, at least for 5 months). Have no fear though, one of the classes I chose for third year (Developing the Novel (GOD HELP ME)) requires that I read at least 10 novels this summer so I'll deliver splendidly in the next few months. For now, have this one:It's called Tracks. I had to read it for last semester's Travel Writing class, but it's not what you think. It's about clearly THE MOST badass woman that ever lived- Robyn Davidson; a psycho city lady who decides to go to Alice Springs, a desert town in Australia, and learn to raise wild camels so she can cross the desert with her own herd. You know those crazy white women, ALWAYS getting some sort of outlandish Calling. Actually, she had me conspiring all kinds of things after I read this (twice), for an essay (that I got an upper 2nd on thank you very much!).

She's sort of the reason I was packed and ready to go to Egypt in January and stay at a hostel in Cairo by myself for a week until my parents caught me. I was going to ride a camel. Next time.

Actually, it is REQUIRED that all demotivated women read this book at some point in their lives. I'm pretty sure I cried, but since I've been doing that tenfold lately, I'm beginning to wonder if it's my contraceptives.

LOVE THIS PHOTO! She was pretty hot too. Oh, for all those lovey dovey types, there's a tough girl love story in here too. It was very sweet. I will HAVE to gather some epic quotes from this book but not right now, as the day's a-wasting, it's sunny out and I need nourishment. READ IT!!!

WRITE FOR ME

2008-05-01T00:59:00.005+04:00

Oh my gosh! I have THE most amazing photography to show you, but I think posting more than 4 posts in a day shows that I have absolutely no social life. So I'll post them tomorrow (in a few hours lol). But to be fair, the only reason I'm posting so much is because I'm majorly sick, as in honking when I sniff and waking up other flatmates. Anyway, being bed-ridden, listening to Blue Oyster Cult guitar solos and sipping on the vilest of teas (Lemsip Lemon Flavoured), got me to make this:

DIRTY PRETTY THINGS

2008-04-30T07:52:00.034+04:00

I sense a growing interest in fetish illustrations. I'd like to think it's not because I'm sex-starved but due to the discovery of the amazing Coilhouse blog (a true cyberpunk/goth/alternative culture haven), as well as perusings through the Sex in Art blog and the Baby Art Blog. This is probably also down to the fact that I am scheming to become an uber glam gothic hot mess of a punkish bitch. Ever the new phase with me. You just gotta keep up. Whether you want to become a U.G.G.H.M.P.B or not, please go through those last two blogs for all manner of beautiful perversion. And don't tell me you don't want to. You SO do.

Itsuki Takashi's work reminds me a lot of the Malady Charlotina work that South West Londoner Christine does that I found on the Coilhouse blog. As she lives so close by, I think I'm going to make it my business to interview her...and her many pets.

I am SO buying the red prints and this last Rasputina-esque one. Anyone listen to Rasputina? The 'Mystikally Cellorific' trio?

[Album cover]

AND THEEEENNN...they in turn reminded me of an exhibition I went to at Shunt by Beatrice Pentney. She had this space set up like an old attic that only about 4 people could go into at a time; with flying dusty toy ships on strings over your head, opening and closing umbrellas, old frocks, rusty bits and bobs hanging everywhere, and the eerie sound of a tiring music box...which kinda TOTALLY reminded me of this Raputina song 'Gingerbread Coffin':

Okay so...how many tangents did I go off on?

SUMMER SEGMENTS: GARDEN PARTY

2008-04-30T05:06:00.003+04:00

I am so excited about this set. I would LOVE LOVE LOVE , with a heart as bulbous as the handbag one featured below, to be wearing this right now other than an oversized Opeth tshirt, red socks from a Virgin Atlantic flight and blankets. *pout*

IT'S NOT YOUR DAY, IT'S MINE! GIVE IT BACK!

2008-04-30T03:56:00.023+04:00

Wow. I'm so sick that I, the drunkard master, am contemplating not drinking my celebratory bottle of Blossom Hill white wine in salute to the end of a successful but trying 2nd year. One more to go towards poverty, tequila and dismay.

Managed a little sake and tiger beer with lunch at Wagamama's today with friends but I was really dead set on the evening's alcoholic proceedings. I think, as my career is soon about to start as a writer, I will make it a ritual to drink like...a bottle of Moet or something everytime I complete a piece. Awesome. Actually, according to one of the last lectures I had for the year I probably won't have near enough money to live in a cupboard (making £6000 a year haha). But if worse comes to worse, I can probably settle for Rubbing Alcohol , or Listerene...Nyquil...and all others mentioned there as my congratulatory refreshment.

I'M SO SICK!

It might be some sort of payback . The 29th of April...My ex-boyfriend's birthday; the one I didn't give up my virginity to, who was cheating on me, and two others, simultaneously, from the start, everything, and more. Have a Herpes Birthday, Cock Sucker! And no, I won't tell my British friends about your metal/punk band because THAT might give you a modicum of exposure.

FUCKING SICK LIKE A STRAY DOG IN THE RAIN!

Fuck it. I'm drinking that goddamned wine. No reason to feel well tomorrow as I'm now free for 5 months. And when I'm done feeling ill, I'll visit that moron in Trinidad this summer and whack him upside the head with his drumsticks. Fucker.

Okay...no, I won't drink it. *sigh* I'll drug up tonight, get a coke from the vending machine and sausage roll myself into my blankets with the O.C. Season 4. It'll taste better over the weekend. Probably not.

THIS POST IS SO RANDOM....I'm considering deleting it.

OH YA! You guys should send me your prose and poetry and rants and letters and prayers and anything you've written. I just might decide to feature it on Fiction Friday! (thelonelylondoner@yahoo.com). GO FOR IT! Nothing to lose.

Can't believe I just added that on the end of this random ass post...

FACE OFF

2008-04-29T09:40:00.003+04:00

Madonn's Vanity Fair pictures from 1986 (which is before I was born by the way) to 2008. It's amazing how many faces she has.

GOOD MORNING, 6:38AM

2008-04-29T09:38:00.001+04:00

What the fuck do I do now? I feel like my University dropped me in a garbage disposal at aged 2. I am so bored. I'd kill for an essay to write.

SUMMER SEGMENTS

2008-04-28T07:46:00.013+04:00

FINALLY! I can daydream about Summer ALL. DAY. LONG without the impeding thoughts of deadlines, word counts, annotations and appendices. Finished all my work at 2am with a day to spare before hand-in. A bunch of us are going to Wagamama on Tuesday to celebrate. That's one of my ex's birthdays, which he just *nudged* me online to tell me (as if I didn't know. HELLO! FACEBOOK! Just...not caring). Also don't forget to head to a Ben & Jerry's near you for free ice cream.

I will be doing these Summer Segments for just about anything that keeps me in a flowery/summery mood and reminds me of such happy times. I just know how depressed I get sometimes for Summer, as it's such a long haul with many a stagnant day of nothingness. Don't get me wrong. As hard as I worked my culo these past weeks, sometimes, nothingness is a blessing. But I start to itch under the influence of too much non-productivity. And this year, especially since I have no travelling money, or money PERIOD, with practically 5 months off, I just might kill myself. Therefore, Summer Segments! This wishlist is brought to you by the fine folks at Forever 21.

[photo credit: Forever 21]

se XX y

2008-04-27T23:20:00.014+04:00

Hi-O!
It just took me like an hour to load all of this week's photos on Facebook. Yeah, I saw all those bands in my essay week. BUT, even though I trudged home way after essay week curfew, with crippled feet from all the stomping, dodging and jumping in the mosh for Defenders of the Faith, I woke up this morning and worked for two hours on the last of my work due in Tuesday. Can I get a 'yay!'? I think so. Now I'm sick, and resting in bed in my new oversized Opeth t-shirt-cum-grungy dress. Wore it out today for 2pm breakfast at Troubabour, my new favourite hang. Will tell you more about that place some other time.

I'm sick because at the concert I got spit on by the performers, drenched in flying beer, and bottles of water that was sprayed into our mouths (and frequently hit our face instead) by the stage security. They were the nicest stage security I have EVER encountered.

I love how without fail, even though there were big-ass signs saying 'no crowd-surfing', like 5 kids rolled over my head and got caught by security(excluding the anorexic chick who fainted), and all just before and in the middle of the main acts, which I'm sure they waited just as long as we did in line to see. IDIOTS! The line circled the entire Carling Academy building. My friend Mathew and I thought, while we were in it 'Hmmm, I'm hungry, there's Nando's across the street. Maybe one of us can go in and grab something. Nah, it'll take too long and be too expensive.' Then, like 45 minutes later, security is collecting our tickets and we meet up with Nando's again. Anyway, the flu, the waiting, the hunger, getting crushed against the fence, ripping my stockings and the frizzy hair that was flat-ironed to perfection just last week, was all worth it. 'The Akerfeldt was sexy (AND FUNNY! WHO KNEW? MY KINDA BRUTAL SARCASM!) as always.

So, as you can also see from my past posts and from the gig pictures, I got to see HEARTSREVOLUTION perform after all, after missing them at their gig on Tuesday at Madame Jojo's because this happened. Naturally, it was fucking brilliant; a little too short, but brilliantly short.

But my favourite band that night at Moshi Moshi Night at Hoxton Square Bar and Kitchen (check that place out) were newcomers The XX. I can't stay away from their Myspace page. MY GOD. Have you ever been to a show and just wished the crowd would SHUT THE FUCK UP!? Well, this is the first time I wanted to dunk people's wine glasses on their indie-coiffed heads in defense of an opening act performing. They are just...fantastic. My new favourite song EVER right now is from them, it's called 'Teardrops' (see their Myspace page and prepare to melt away and be cradled in their vocals and bass). IT'S THE BASS, BABY! That bass player cuts so deep it actually hurts to hear him play. I actually cried that night upon hearing that song for the first time.

The lead singer, a docile half-asian lesbian with bleached skunk tracks through her chopped hair, had the most soothing voice that you almost couldn't hear. She was so shy I wanted to go up and touch her face and tell her it was okay to sing. It's funny, everytime I day-dreamt when I was younger that I would lead sing in a band, we always sounded like them; I sang like her.

HEY! Also listen to 'Stars'. Close your eyes and listen to the guy's voice, and the lyrics. If you want depression, they'll give it to you. The guy's voice is the bass player, and my new crush. Sometimes, in the flashes of the stage lights he looks like Jonathan Rhys Meyers. I don't fancy Meyers much but I guess I would if he played bass and sang like that and wore that sweater that he did that night. I snapped a picture of him with my flash on, and as soon as I did that, his bass strap came undone. It was THE FUNNIEST thing! Okay, no. Actually I nearly got a heart attack. But he stooped and played on his knee while he fixed it. SAFE!

Anyway, listening to them is like...getting heart-broken by someone you're madly in love with and then you find some random person to talk to and next thing you know your lips are on theirs, but everything's happening really slowly, even the tiny saliva strings from your kisses are bursting slow, and you have hair in your face, and everything's blurry except for their face. That's what it's like okay....? So be careful lol.

Okay, on that note, I'm going to get some well-deserved rest and pray that my bread isn't mouldy yet so I can make cheese on toast for dinner because I'm too lazy to do pasta. Ciao!

THE WEEK IN GIGS

2008-04-27T22:12:00.014+04:00

James Yuill, The XX, Florence and the Machine, HEARTSREVOLUTION, 3 Inches of Blood and Devil Driver (both not pictured), Arch Enemy and Opeth

PURPLE ICING

2008-04-26T07:49:00.003+04:00

WOULD YOU PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE take a hot minute and check out Gala Darling's ingenious new eyebrows. Read the full post on her experience. Oh I wish....

[photo credit- iCiNG]

FIERCE!

2008-04-25T22:42:00.006+04:00

Daphne Guinness flicks morosely through a catalogue with Grazia Magazine of her couture collection, up for grabs in an auction on April 29th at La Galleria in Pall Mall, London. She comes across one of the many fabulous items, her OH-MY-FUCKIN-GOD studded, red suede Dior wedges. Her reaction:

"How did they get there? Issy (Blow) and I were in a race for those shoes. And I won! I had no idea they were there. I'll have to bid for them myself to get them back"

Um, they're yours honey. Take those fuckers back! Bidding starts at £100

FICTION FRIDAY

2008-04-25T12:53:00.005+04:00

RISE AND SHINE! The morning's a-waiting! I'm only acting like this because I am coming down from a severe sugar rush. I pulled an all-morning-er with my essays and am just about ready to crash. But I decided to throw some laundry in the wash so now I have to wait for those to finish or else my intimates will get inconsiderately thrown around by the unwashed miscreants that live on my campus.

I even went out last night to the last HEARTSREVOLUTION gig at Hoxton Square Bar and Kitchen, took three night buses home near 1am AND STILL pulled my all-morning-er. It is now 10am. The cleaner will come a-knocking in a few seconds. I knew if I went to bed she would wake me. And just in case I dozed off anyway, I put a sign on my door that says (kindly) that I won't be needing her services today, thank you! *smiley face*

So I'm set, for a little R&R until dinner with my dad this evening (he did a flight to london today and is staying overnight. He's a pilot). Am so looking forward to a decent paid for meal. And a good spoil.

DID I MENTION THE HEARTSREVOLUTION GIG? Yeah, it was awesome. I have some new artists and photos to introduce you to but not right now because I'm too tired to give a fuck.

It's funny how this post is titled Fiction Friday and I'm rambling on like this with any and everything but. I guess I just missed you guys...and well my brain's all sugary.

Okay so....FICTION FRIDAY IS HERE! This time I remembered. And I remembered that I said the first piece I would post is Agyness Deyn's favourite poem, that I found in the May issue of i-D that is completely devoted to her. So, here it is:

I WANNA BE YOURS
by John Cooper Clark

I wanna be your vacuum cleaner
breathing in your dust
I wanna be your Ford Cortina
I will never rust
If you like your coffee hot
Let me be your coffee pot
You call the shots
I wanna be yours

I wanna be your raincoat
For those frequent rainy days
I wanna be your dreamboat
When you want to sail away
Let me be your teddy bear
Take me with you anywhere
I don't care
I wanna be yours

I wanna be your electric meter
I will not run out
I wanna be the electric heater
You'll get cold without
I wanna be your setting lotion
Hold your hair in deep devotion
Deep as the deep Atlantic Ocean
That's how deep is my devotion.

Sounds like a Ramones song. I think it sucks.

A DREAM IS A WISH YOUR HEART MAKES

2008-04-24T16:52:00.006+04:00

Oh my God, she noticed full stop

hey lovely,

thanks for coming out last night.

what name would you like us to add on the list for tomorrow?

see you soon.

hearts,lo

Hi!!
Thanks for getting back to me. Can you just put Kara Martin and my friend XXXXX XXXXXXX. So, just so I don't screw up again this time, what time are you guys performing and how much is it at the door?

Thanks,
exes and ohs
Kara.

P.S. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE tell me you brought along some of your CYOA! shirts with you from NY? They're awesome!

SO I DON'T HAVE TO TELL YOU MYSELF

2008-04-24T15:50:00.021+04:00

BEN

KATE
LO
PRINCE

Hello...

I am Lo's assistant in the US...

My name is Chi. I hope I can help you in this matter. You really have to see them live. Here is all the info I have... I believe heartsrevolution goes on at 9PM...

'Hearts Revolution'
Glittery electro-punk from the much talked about New York duo

'Florence And The Machine'
Crowned NME's number 1 best new act of SXSW after a typically jawdropping live performance on BBC 3's Introducing stage,'With a voice so hauntingly captivating you can feel it in your stomach, the skinny south Londoner and her trusted musical machine make some seriously beautiful noise. ' [Dazed and Confused]

'The XX'
"a hot to trot teenage trio from SW London who play bafflingly acemoody hip-pop with bass so thick you could cut it with a carvingknife. "

'James Yuill'
"Fuses sweet and innocent acoustic melodies with some darklyintrospective electronic magic. investigate now. "

Moshi Moshi Night
Hoxton Square Bar Kitchen
2-4 Hoxton Sq
London, N1 6NU,
United Kingdom
+44 20 76130753

From 8 pm - £7 on the door £5 in advance from ticketweb
Poster Design by Ross www. myspace. com/wolvesofstaugust

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

2008-04-23T12:39:00.017+04:00

I.AM.SUCH.AN.UBER.KLUTZ!

So....I went

...to see Heartsrevolution and there was Lo, sitting in a floor corner on her laptop, basking in her rave pink glow. And there was I, sort of peeing my pants (she's so preettttyyy). And there was the sequined loudspeaker. uh huh. Firece. After a couple beers and vodka and redbull I whine to my cousin Becks about coming with me to meet her. So we go. And we took a picture, which came out like so...

AND THEN I was like, "So, what time are you guys going on?"

Lo looks at me all forlorn (which, by the way, means 'expressive of hopelessness- thought you oughta know and would find that funny), and she goes, "We already did..."

I REPEAT. I. AM. AN. UBER. KLUTZ. SQUARED!

I thought nothing gets going 'til after 10pm in this country?! Fucking gutted, I tell you. But she said she would put me and my cousin Becks on the guestlist for Moshi Moshi Night on Thursday (their last UK gig for now so don't screw it up!)

"Yeah, just message me on MySpace and I'll put you on the list."

Yeah. Didn't have a Myspace. But NOW I do. That's all I'm sayin'.

So Lo, if you read this, above are my yellow shoes in greeting that you said you liked (£12 from Peacocks), welcome to my blog and PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PUT ME AND BECKS ON THE GUESTLIST. WE LOVE YOU!
The evening was still salvaged though. I realised I have severe musical feelings for the last band of the night (and the only one I saw *fuckin uberklutz...*) Slagsmalsklubben. Yeah, that's Swedish for Fucking Awesome. Not really. But please check them out. LOL That lead singer was so drunk that he could barely string together a sentence in his own native tongue, and, might I add, put up three fingers to say they were playing one of their songs for the 4th time ever. Salvaged only by the fact that he dragged a 4th finger up a few seconds later. Anyway, I can't believe how much raw energy one can exude from pressing a bunch of nobs. Fuck rock guitarists. This is the new sexy.

AND WELL, these guys were just amusing after one too many vodka and redbulls. I think the girl was trying to tell us all night that she was majoring in Ballet. And the guy looked scarily like Naveen Andrews dressed as Pinnochio. Anyway, I SO have an important lecture right now. TOODLES!

WHO WOULD'VE THOUGHT...

2008-04-22T01:08:00.006+04:00

I never thought I'd go back to the Hot Topic website after all these years. Maybe it's the tickets I got for the Opeth/Arch Enemy gig this Saturday (FUCKIN' STOKED!), maybe it's current gutsy/punk/glam goth fashion, maybe it's that chick on Gnarlitude; probably all of the above.
Well, they're okay. I won't die if I don't have 'em. Except for the pants.

TO PETE, THE ANONYMOUS

2008-04-22T01:00:00.003+04:00

Me thinks I'm going to make an attraction out of you. Can you tell how lacking my life is? So, as 'Pete' is a clue, is that supposed to mean I know you already?

GREAT DEYN

2008-04-22T00:50:00.002+04:00

UMMM! The entire May issue of i-D is devoted to Agyness Deyn; from her iconic bleached cut (which she confesses falls out in clumps from dying it every 6 weeks. I know all about this) down to her neatly waxed pubes. I shit you not. She bares all her bones across the pages, including her pierced nipple. Who knew?

They talk about her worldly haunts, people talk about her uber-ness, Henry Holland actually writes her a cute ode and they reveal her favourite poem, which will be the first piece of creative work I add to my debut of Fiction Friday this week.

She's the only model in it and they interview her like...five times lol but it's all fresh and new and Agyness! And there's a rejection letter from the Queen in it addressed to Agyness, who requested an interview with her because Agyness worships her and wanted to discuss how great Britian is to them *gags*

BUY THE ISSUE!

HMMMM...

2008-04-21T07:40:00.003+04:00

Anonymous, huh? Gonna make things hard for me? I don't like anonymity. You should email me. Enlighten me.

I'M GIFTED ALL NATURAL AND BURSTIN' THE SEAMS

2008-04-20T02:18:00.005+04:00

FINALLY! PERFECTION! And naturally I can't afford it. Snatched it from homegirl Gnarlitude's blog. She just got herself a pair. Ksubi, of course. I know this chick's wardrobe inside out. I would love to just...walk around town with her for an afternoon lol. Pathetic. She also just bought my new favourite never-to-be-owned tshirt, this Drug Clock Tee:

And I really thought this one was cute as well from Ksubi. But the Drug Clock Tee conquers all.

NERVOUS BREAKDOWN SORTED

2008-04-20T00:32:00.017+04:00

Hey guys...ummm, sorry about the last post. I'm dealing with it accordingly (crying, drinking Budweiser, having All Day Breakfasts at Troubadour in Fulham, calling my mom, umm cancelling on people, sleeping and living in the O.C. via my DVD collection). I don't have TV in dorms and for some reason you have to have a TV License first so...I've just been regurgitating the O.C. and My So Called Life and movies.

I'm in some kind of hellish persistent nightmare which I am currently taking a well-deserved break from: word CoUNTS, quotations, bibliographies, citations, DEADlines, gRAMmar, editorial ANALysis. Ever been there before? I'm also not feeling very well. *POO!*

I also spent a moment slamming my head into the wall because I announced the launch of Fiction Friday earlier this week and failed to produce my first piece yesterday. GGRRR! I just can't right now okay? I think you understand. So let's just...postpone that until next friday.

Yuh know what's so weird? Watching the O.C. Season Three for the second time I'm realising how much of a nagging, whining little BITCH Marissa is. She bores me to tears. TEARS! That's her entire role throughout the O.C. 'Show us some tears!' And she couldn't even get that right. There. I said it. She and suicidal surfer boy would've made the perfect pathetic pity couple. They could've swam into the ocean and drowned together. Hated him; especially how he talked from the side of his crooked mouth.

And Puppy Eyes Ryan? He is no one to me anymore but someone who looks just like my friend back in T'dad.

Yeah, Summer and Noodly arms Seth were cute and all...

BUT THE BITCHES! I love the bitches. Julie Cooper...Volchok....Volchok *giggles* Seriously Volchok and Marissa should've stayed together. They were my favourite. Their sex was bordering on tantric. HOT! I love the oddly placed ear piecing (considering...) and his shitty arm tattoo is real. I TOTALLY ABHOR THE PRETTY BOY STANCE, and clearly that's what he is. I mean, exhibit A:But I have a soft spot for him. Yeahh...like it isn't enough already that I have a shameless addiction to the O.C., I have to go like a guy like this. Instead of keying Ryan's car with the words 'Lil Bitch' he should've carved that into Marissa's back while they were clawing away in bed.

AND LASTLY, MY ALL-TIME FAVOURITE TV CHARACTER (SERIOUSLY) TAYLOR TOWNSEND! It's like...the writers took it up a notch with her and her dialogue. She was superbly funny...superbly mind-fucked and demanding with those crazy piercing eyes with the perfectly applied eyeliner (jealous!). And people might hate me for saying so (or might not even give a shit) but I'm SO glad she and Ryan got together. Perfect. All was well with the O.C. Let Marissa die. I'm game. Weren't Ryan's 80's Rock music video visions of Taylor THE FUNNIEST THING in all of Season 4?!? "Are you dirty Ryan?"

VAI A FAVA

2008-04-19T01:01:00.002+04:00

I'm not happy. Leave me alone. Go read my blogroll instead. Start here. She's Fi. She's my friend.

EAT ME; DRINK ME

2008-04-18T02:12:00.002+04:00

I can burst into tears at Pizza Express over garlic bread, canelloni and appalling red wine if I want to.

DON'T YOU KNOW YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO WEAR WHITE AFTER LABOUR DAY?

2008-04-17T04:44:00.003+04:00

The toilet is back. But we're not here about him. Went shopping for internship-wear yesterday. I own virtually no work clothes, my past jobs being a bartender, a tennis instructor and helping hand at a yoga studio. I've almost always had the opportunity to wear next to nothing.

So, you know, as things always go with me, I tested some of the stuff out, under the alfluence of incohol. I bought a bunch of smart tops at River Island and some cheap, gorgeous and ethical heels at Peacocks too but fuck that. No more pictures. I'm tired.

White jacket (I never wear white because I'm too messy so I'm facing my fears. Applause please?)- Peacocks. £16. Only one. Perfect fit. Those pants are a size 8 (UK). I can sleep well tonight knowing that. Yes.

WHITE HEAT @ MADAME JOJO'S

2008-04-17T04:06:00.004+04:00

ANYONE WANNA COME WITH?

Cobra Snake is friends with one of the groups performing. HEARTSREVOLUTION, and naturally, he recommended that we go. And, after a quick runthrough of their Myspace page, I.AM.GOING. They sound fantastic and the LP is too cute to ignore and this picture...YEAH, they got me. I know EXACTLY who I am inviting to this. It's only 5 pounds if you book in advance from Ticketweb, and then at the door on the night it's 6, or it might end up being more if this is a big show. I don't even know. The vibe is big. SO BOOK, BITCHES! And gimme a shout if you're in London for it and are heading down. Consider this my first ever 'blogger and friends hang'.

P.S. Listen to the Digital Suicide Sywst Demo and the Switchblade Demo. (this is going to blow up in our faces. FIERCE!)

I GOT YOUR FACEBOOK MESSAGE

2008-04-17T03:37:00.002+04:00

Remember that text I got? Finally figured out who it was...

"Oh shit! Can't believe you put one of my random texts on the web...you total arse!! Miss ya sex bomb xxx"

HOSTAGE SITUATION INTERMISSION

2008-04-16T18:42:00.003+04:00

I'm in the library right now, typing critical reflection essays and the like as if it's going out of style. Portfolio and essays deadline in two weeks then second year is over.

I just wanted to pop in and tell you all to anticipate the starting of a new section to my blog. It's going to be called Fiction Friday. Everday Friday, in an attempt to (maybe) entertain you at the same time as practising my craft, I will post a short narrative that either I wrote or that I read and pocketed from somewhere. I'm very excited about this and think it's the best idea I've had since going to sleep at regular people hours.

Okay. I've got to go. I'm supposed to be treating myself like a hostage, holing up in here for hours doing nothing but work and here I am on BLOGGER. Hostages don't let their captives check their text messages and stuff...*sigh*

A BLOG REVIEW?

2008-04-15T05:27:00.002+04:00

OH MY GOSH! OH MY GUSH! I. LOVE. YOU. SLACKER. CHIC(K)!

*uncrumples acceptance speech, clears throat* Babe, that's my favourite post too...along with my last one. You should come visit me and we can go see Amy Winehouse snort coke on stage sometime, k? And I don't know what I would do without my iPod either.

exes and ohs,
Kara.

A FEW WORDS

2008-04-14T19:08:00.008+04:00

HMMM Walkabout in Shepherd's Bush.
Huge.
No ID request at the door like the others.
In fact, bouncer hardly spoke english.
Massive event on a Sunday night.
Upstairs and downstairs mosh.
Vodka and Redbull.
DAFT FUCKIN' PUNK!
GINORMOUS fart unleashed in the pit by anonymous.
Everyone fleeing.
No worries.
Dissipated and cleared.
Live band.
Better than last live act witnessed.
Much better.
Sounded just like Linkin Park for that one set.
Stupid girls in clunky heels.
Jumping awkwardly in the background.
To System of a Down.
Stupid Aussie guys doing the same.
BUT WAIT!
Aussie guys?
Lots of board shorts.
Slippers.
White rastas!
And dare I say it.
God bless his soul.
They all looked like the one Aussie that mattered most.
Heath Ledger.
R.I.P.
Lots of "Hey there, girlie!"
"Hey..." without stopping.
Snakebite.
Vodka Redbull
Snakebite.
Vodka Redbull.
Guts.
Scream at top of lungs.
For Rage Against the Machine.
Corky's White Chocolate shots for me and Russian girl.
Who the fuck are you?
Who the fuck are YOU?
WHO CARES *cackle*
Throat dunk.
Groovy.
Tenacious D track?
What the fuck?!
HELL YEAH!
Shouted out by me and random bloke.
We look at each other.
HELL YEAH!
Sing entire song.
Including guitar riffs.
Embarassing.
Fun.
HELL YEAH!
Rcokin' out.
Weird Eastern European
Wink at me?
His balls spliced by 'western' jeans.
Fake leather shoes.
Nuh uh.
Vodka Redbull.
"I'm from Trinidad."
"OHHH! Brian Lara!"
"Yes. But no."
"Well I'm from Australia."
Thick accent.
"No shit."

RAINBROW BRITE

2008-04-13T06:13:00.006+04:00

Am I crazy for liking these specifics from We Love Colors? Because I COVET THEM! Designers are doing the psychaedelics and angry paint splashes and tie dyes now, right? So, why not? If I am in fact as mad as a hatter on this one, AT LEAST let me own those knee high tie-dye socks above to go with my combat boots. I promise I won't wear an inch more colour with these things, and will drench them in a barrage of black. I'mma call them my Psychtights.

REASONS YOU SHOULD READ MY BOOK OF THE MONTH: THE BUDDHA OF SUBURBIA

2008-04-13T00:59:00.011+04:00

Just finished this book and am about to go on to his fourth piece of fiction (also the 4th book I'll be seduced by by him) 'Intimacy'. Will tell you how that goes.

"It was clear that Eleanor had been to bed with a large and random collection of people, but when I suggested she go to bed with me, she said, "I don't think we should, just at the moment, do you?" As a man I found this pretty fucking insulting. There were constant friendly caresses, and when things got too much (every few hours) she held me and cried, but the big caress was out."

"I'd had a haircut at Sassoon in Sloane Street and my balls, recently talcum-powedered, were as fragrantly dusted and tasty as Turkish Delight."

"She looked at me as if she wanted to press a hard grain of rice down my penis."

"As Anwar smacked downwards with his stick, Changez lumbered to one side, just in time, withdrew the knobbly dildo from its paperbag sheath, and with a Muslim Warrior shout - at least, Shinko said it was a Muslim shout, but what would she know? - whacked my uncle smartly over the head with it. Uncle Anwar, who'd come from Indian to the Old Kent Road to lodge with a dentist, to jangle and gamble, to make his fortune and return home to build a house like my grandfather's on Juhu Beach, could never have guessed all those years ago that late in life he would be knocked unconscious by a sex-aid. No fortune-teller had predicted this. Kipling had written 'to each his own fear', but this was not Anwar's."

"I ran towards Heater and mounted him by stepping on his knee, grabbing him by the lapels and using velocity to bounce my forehead against his nose in the way I'd been taught at school. Thank God for education. He wheeled away, holding his nose onto his face. Then Hilary and I were running and shouting; we were holding each other and kissing, and it seemed that blood was everywhere; it was just pouring off us. I'd forgotten that Heater had learned at school never to go anywhere without razor-blades sewn into the back of his lapels".

PLUS THERE'S A TV MINI-SERIES! AHHHHH DID. NOT. KNOW. THAT.

Anyone recognize the main star? Naveen Andrews from Lost. He looks just like my friend Syam. Can't get over it.

AND DAVID BOWIE DID A TRACK FOR IT! (I quite like it...Song of the Week maybe?)

THE FRECKLES IN OUR EYES ARE MIRROR IMAGES

2008-04-12T23:59:00.009+04:00

Oh my. How much sweeter can the world get? A website devoted to photographs from around the world, by contributing photographers, of the ones they love, their better halves. I think you can submit your own work if you email the owners your shit and they like it. IT'S SO CUTE! *sigh*

I'm all sap crappy this weekend.

Lots of complicated ex-boyfness and Hanif Kureishi literature. AND MY FRIENDS GOT ENGAGED IN HONG KONG!

PLUS I found out it's true that when one door closes, a window opens (or whatever that rank cliché is). I came back from Dubai and found out my friend sold my two Bjork tickets (probably to a much higher bidder) for the show on Monday and I was really down about that. BUT THEN I met up with a friend Mathew who came down from Nottingham for a bit and he told me about the Defenders of the Faith Tour. TWO of my all time favourite metal bands (along with two insignificant others) are playing: Opeth and Arch Enemy! That means I am going to see 'The Akerfeldt' in all his long-haired droopy-eyed sex appeal, AND a hot Swedish chick growl at me! OW! The show's on the 26th. Plus the tickets were significantly cheaper. I love that everyone in London hates metal. £18.50 for 4 bands, 2 weeks before the show? That's the kind of math I like best.