Sunday, August 31, 2008


day twenty one
i made music with music. i got out the words to my inner instrumental, and track one was done. anticipating track two . . .

Saturday, August 30, 2008


i haven’t got a clue if you’re the one
but i like you
and ooh i like how you make me feel
i wanna do this right
don’t wanna waste this night
but i’m drowning
drowning in your love
bring me flowers
and talk for hours
and ooh i like you
and ooh i like how you make me feel
kiss my face
your warm embrace
ind ooh i like you
and ooh i like how you make me feel
i’m a little scared to hold you close
cause i just might never ever let you go
caught up in your smile
i’m happy as a child
but i’m still drowning
drowning in your love
bring me flowers
and talk for hours
and ooh i like you
and ooh i like how you make me feel
kiss my face
your warm embrace
and ooh i like you
and ooh i like how you make me feel
oh, do do do do do do do
your heart cares for nothing in return
and i’m just taking
taking you in
caught up in your smile
i’m happy as a child
but i’m still drowning
drowning in your love
bring me flowers
and talk for hours
and ooh i like you
and ooh i like how you make me feel
kiss my face
your warm embrace
and ooh i like you
and ooh i like how you make me feel
bring me flowers
and talk for hours
and ooh i like you
and ooh i like how you make me feel
close my eyes and dream for miles
and ooh i like you
and ooh i like how you make me feel
bring me flowers
and talk for hours
and ooh i like you
and ooh i like how you make me feel
kiss my face
your warm embrace
and ooh i like you
and ooh i like how you make me feel

*music inspired this . . .


day twenty

i had a date with music: i had sex with his voice and fell in love with his words. [be still, my heart.]

Thursday, August 28, 2008


day nineteen

first day of school with sarah. it was a long day. intro to art in africa at 11:30, then fashion merchandising at 2:30, then principles of supervison at 7:30. the library was definitely my friend [with the best wireless connection]. sarah definitely pulled me out of my class to watch the laptops because she had to pee. our first day was amusing . .


day eighteen
the infamous shoes i was so excited over.
i looked mighty hawt =]

Wednesday, August 27, 2008


finally off the phone with dustin after about four hours. i have my first class at 2:30, and work at 5pm. dustin's taking me to school [yay]. let's see how much coffee i'll be drinking . . .


day seventeen

things like this make me proud to be a new yorker.


after watching mirror with the girls, being on the train alone is not advised. fuck you, diz & millz.

dinner at le basket: mac and cheese, vegetable won tons, red skinned potatoes, sesame chicken, and california rolls. dustin sat behind sarah the whole time. i knew it was him, i just didn't make it obvious. i had the biggest crush on this dude back in the seventh grade. it was patheric. he gave me his number. this should be amusing.
train ride up to forty duce to go to the movies. i would've loved to see vicky christina barcelona or sisterhood of the traveling pants 2--but no. they made me watch mirrors. the absolute scariest movie of the year. [at least for me, since i refuse to watch those shits.] they kept referring to my vain ass the whole time, and i was definitely scared shitless to see my reflection in anythng for a while. but coldstone definitely cleared that up. cheesecake fantasy, courtesy of millz.

nasty, ruthless ass spicks. my good, must they act up on the train. i'm all for pda, but this was just over the top. you'd think these were teenagers or little kids i'm talking about, but these two were grown ass people. shorty was sucking the spit out of his mouth, then i see her foot flying in the air and she's straddled over him, sucking the capillary vains out of his neck. i mean, it was just horrible.
on the phone with dustin. nice convo [hearts]

Tuesday, August 26, 2008


day sixteen
cleaning up after aj crimson's birthday party. madness.

Monday, August 25, 2008


modeling. at one time, it was my passion. i used to eat, sleep, and breathe the industry. i was even writing business finals about the modeling industry--and yes, i passed that class. my cousin was a casting agent for impact world wide, so whatever gigs he sent his girls on, i was right beside them. but when google bought the company, he left, and i was officially a freelance model. this was back in 2006. the last time i was in front of a camera was in january. by march, i was done. i put my dreams behind me and began to think realistically. now i could never completely drop modeling. i'd always think about starting up again, just not as seriously as i was before. in july, i met shanel. that's how i got a taste of hair modeling. that taste led me to wanting more. even if it was just for that day, it felt like a portion of that void in my life was filled.

times are hard, and high quality photos cost money [that i don't have], and these photographers that produce these high quality photos are very experienced, so they do select tf* shoots, with only the models of their choice. that just makes it that much harder for me. as much as i've heard that i have a strong face and i'm gorgeous and i have potential, no one's really getting to see me. mother dearest and i got into a heated discussion about modeling earlier, and i called her out on her lack of parental support. she's taking it as me playing the blame game and throwing the guilt card at her. i cried. seriously, i did. i mean, i cried until that gooey clear snot came out my nose and just chilled there until i blew it out. [nice mental picture? thank me later.] when it comes down to things i'm passionate about and my parent's involvement, i get emotional. so yea, the water works came on. there's not much i can really say about my mother's thoughts on me modeling, because they were all negative. she came to some of my shows back in high school, only because they were for school; and even then she wasn't too thrilled with my garments and how comfortable i was parading around in next-to-nothing.

i began writing this post as a text on my phone on my journey to work.

now that my shift is over and i'm heading home, [still texting this post], i'm thinking about the even we hosted [info on that later] and the one connection i made. i stood in a corner alone for most of the night because there were so many people. one gentleman approached me to see if everything was copestetic. we started talking and he asked me if i was a model. i told him the deal. he has an online magazine that he wants me to check out. i definitely will. there's no connection that's too small. everyone knows someone that can help get you one step closer to where you want or need to be . . .

so the event. my god was that an experience. adidas is big on events, i see. this was my first. we hosted the birthday party for aj crimson, a celebrity make-up artist. when i heard the big fuss was over a mua, i thought it was a cover-up; we all did. but this was major. the appearances were crazy: from the newbies to the scene like tokyo, teyana taylor, my boys, pat & unique, the twins, dee & ricky jackson, & estelle, to the old faces, like letoya luckette, dj clue, & forest wittaker. one guy offered to have his driver take me home, another inquired about my empty ring finger; but in the end, the night was fun, po got twisted, & black icing was everywhere. gotta love being a dassler . . .

sidebar: this post took up twenty-three text messages.


r.i.p seraphin =[

Sunday, August 24, 2008


meaningful blog? let's see.

work wasn't as much of a drag as it usually is on a sunday. i had a goal of $2,193. impossible much? impossible is nothing [unless you're in originals and not the performance store]. i did probably close to $1,600. no one made their goal, so i'm definitely not stressing it. our dj today was on point; his set kept me dancing. he was amazingly cute; like, i was gawking at him the whole time. then this little snow bunny kept hopping around him, the claws came out of me. everyone kept looking out for me [gotta love my dasslers]. my little shy ass, always afraid of rejection, sent a note [via boogie] with my number. boogie called me a home wrecker for the rest of the day because we all had the notion that the white chick was his shorty. but when dave the dj [smile] came over to me to introduce himself, start a conversation, and let me know that he'd give me a call some time, the whole store when back to high school, buzzing around the gossip of the hella cute dj talking to the dancer with the purple hair. [that's when boogie changed my name from home wrecker to I.D.L. [i destroy lives] because as he says; don't leave your man around me because i'll bag 'em--paper or plastic?]

greg came in today. we had a little discussion at about 12:30 am via text about us not hanging out, and how, and i quote, "i need to chill and be more relaxed...i'm a little sensitive...i need to not feed into things too much." now we all know that the one thing that will piss me off is some being with a dangling part telling me about myself, so of course, i wasn't so thrilled to see him. he took it as me acting up. i cleared that up with the quickness. as soon as he left, he got a text: "this isn't me acting don't want to see that."

raoul did another no-no. he was supposed to pick me up from work at 6:30 [yes, i got off at 6:45, but his coconut ass probably runs on colored people time]. i got a text at 6:33, saying he won't be able to make it because of some soccer game in the bronx. i'm sorry; was i supposed to care? he offered to come see me when he got to brooklyn. the bitch in me told him not to bother. now, you'd think he'd leave me alone, since he did just piss me off and practically stood me up. but no. on the bus ride home, he calls and says he's leaving the bronx and he'll call me when he gets into brooklyn so he can come see me. i said no. he asked why. i love the bitch in me sometimes: i told him i just might strangle him if i saw him. he got the hint.

steve and i got into an argument last night, which continued throughout my journey to work this morning. we stopped talking back in september or october because i told him i didn't want to have sex if i wasn't in a relationship. now this fuck face [pardon my french] swears up and down that he doesn't remember saying to me "then i'll have to get it from somewhere else." our argument wasn't because of that statement; that argument happened last month. this argument was about him saying slick shit like that, and them thinking i "wouldn't be stupid enough to take it seriously." i'm sorry. go die in a hole.

steve, jason, [yes, jason], greg, raoul, and now dave. you'd think i'd be heading back on the path of promiscuity that i was on last summer. definitely not. i have a whole new outlook and i'm taking a different approach to this whole dating game shenanigan. this isn't me on my i'll sleep with you and then never call you again, just so you'd feel how i've felt with these pricks i've dealt with in the past type shit. oh no. this is me on my fuck niggas, get money, do me, put nothing before my life, my future, and my girls, and if a guy happens to come along, he's my last priority type shit. i have no problem cutting men off, for i have nothing to lose. come try me . . .

thinking about my next big art project. something with this damn canvas i bought and have nothing to do with.

daddy goes back in on tuesday. school starts wednesday. i have a full week ahead of me.


day fifteen

busted ass leggings from h&m. these shits aren't even leggings. they're stockings for crying out loud. another disappointing purchase. fuck.

Saturday, August 23, 2008


day fourteen

mani-pedi + take out + watching 21 = the ideal saturday night without my girlies

*my fortune: many receive advice, only the wise profit by it.

Friday, August 22, 2008


i sat on the train, on my way to meet sarah, & i did my normal scope of the other passengers in the car. this one girl must have been about 6'2", with the heels she had on, and i really liked her bohemian-inspired ensemble. her bangles & earrings were really cute. then i saw her toes. clear polished, they were neatly shaped; but that's besides the point. those suckers were gripping over the front of her shoes. i mean, damn--i'm so disturbed by the sight, i can't seem to find anything else to say.

then i started looking at my accessories: american apparel scarf, marc jacobs bubble ring, juicy charm bracelet, and my all mighty marc jacobs tote. without them, i'd just be wearing a black v-neck, blue skinnies, & moccasins. then i thought about the accessories i think to be some of the most obscene things: man sandals, those fringie belts people wore low on their hips, knock off prada, louis, & gucci, kiddie leashes,and babies. babies with babies is a big no-no to me. maybe because i just can't see myself with kids. correction: it's not that i can't see myself with kids--i just can't see me doing the 'after conception' part. i'd make a pretty hot seed, and i've had a few proposals to procreate, so to speak. but i'm perfectly slim the way i've gone through hell to be, and, call me shallow if you will, but stretching my belly out about a foot in front of me, just so my name can live on isn't a thought that phases me. adoption's always an alternative . . .

so yea, lunch with sarah at room service.

pad see eew with chick and shrimp dumplings. the end result;

then a quick stop to the salon to see my shanel. then h&m. i bought freakishly cute oxford-style shoes. that so got me in that school's in less than a week spirit. then to forever twenty-one in union square. a classic black fedora. it's amazingly cute on me. then cold stone--birthday cake remix. that shit gave me such a stomach ache. we ran into greg on astor [hearts], then i took sarah to ray's job at stand on twelfth and university, then i headed home. did sedine's hair, acted a fool in the room when kristin and naica joined us, almost killed my sister [for the second time again] for touching my marc jacobs bag, and i think that's about all i did today.

daddy went back to the hospital and did some pretesting today. we thought the next part of his surgery would be in a few weeks. nope; definitely on tuesday--his birthday. shit sucks major ass . . .


day thirteen

in a taxi on my way to roomservice, i saw this sign taped in the window at a salon in gramercy.

hair modeling's actually fun. you get your hair done for free. that's so my shit. should i follow up on the posting?


do you ever feel like breaking down?
do you ever feel out of place?
like somehow you just don't belong
and no one understands you
do you ever wanna runaway?
do you lock yourself in your room?
with the radio on turned up so loud
that no one hears you screaming

no you don't know what it's like
when nothing feels all right
you don't know what it's like
to be like me

to be hurt
to feel lost
to be left out in the dark
to be kicked when you're down
to feel like you've been pushed around
to be on the edge of breaking down
and no one's there to save you
no you don't know what it's like
welcome to my life

do you wanna be somebody else?
are you sick of feeling so left out?
are you desperate to find something more?
before your life is over
are you stuck inside a world you hate?
are you sick of everyone around?
with their big fake smiles and stupid lies
while deep inside you're bleeding

no you don't know what it's like
when nothing feels all right
you don't know what it's like
to be like me

to be hurt
to feel lost
to be left out in the dark
to be kicked when you're down
to feel like you've been pushed around
to be on the edge of breaking down
and no one's there to save you
no you don't know what it's like
welcome to my life

no one ever lied straight to your face
no one ever stabbed you in the back
you might think I'm happy but I'm not gonna be okay
everybody always gave you what you wanted
never had to work it was always there
you don't know what it's like, what it's like

to be hurt
to feel lost
to be left out in the dark
to be kicked when you're down
to feel like you've been pushed around
to be on the edge of breaking down
and no one's there to save you
no you don't know what it's like (what it's like)

Thursday, August 21, 2008


day twelve

now, we all know i have the weirdest hair for a black girl, so i absolutely refuse to put grease in my shit. my sister insists i put some type of shit in my scalp, so she uses oil sheen? after i touched up my purple, she attempted to blow out my hair after i washed it out, and she sprays this nonsense in my scalp. that left my hair feeling so disgusting! of course, i dunked my head in the sink & did the shit all over. if you want something done right, do it yourself.


day eleven

daddy came home. we damn near flew to get him because he kept calling to come home. i'm happy. very happy. i love my daddy, even though he does the oddest things.

Tuesday, August 19, 2008


so today was the big day. daddy has the surgery for the parkinson's disease. i woke up at 4am and spent twelve hours at methodist hospital in park slope. the doctors performed a procedure called deep brain stimulation [dbs], where electrodes are implanted into the brain and connected to a small electrical device called a pulse generator that can be externally programmed. dbs can reduce the need for levodopa and his other medications, which in turn decreases the involuntary movements that are a common side effect of levodopa. it also helps to alleviate fluctuations of symptoms and to reduce tremors, slowness of movements, and gait problems.

today was phase one. they screwed some contraption onto his head threw is forehead. literally, it was over his eyebrows and went into his skull. when the doctor wheeled him away to run some tests, he had a cloth over his head to cover it. on his way back, the doctor stopped the wheelchair in front of me and daddy asked me to come into the room. i refused to. i stayed in the waiting room with my sketchbook. i had a shitload on my mind, but couldn't seem to get any of it out. mommy came to get my camera. for some odd reason, she wanted memories of this day. i was thinking about posting the pic she took, but it's too gruesome; on some jigsaw saw iv type business. that was it for me. i cried--and cried and cried. i cried myself to sleep on the waiting room couch for about an hour or two.

we hit up the cafeteria for some breakfast, since no one really ate. then mommy and cecile fell out in the cafeteria's garden, while i went back to my sacred waiting room couch. i fell out, yet again. that was my fourth nap for the day. about two hours after that [which was probably the seventh hour in the hospital], the procedure was over and doctor came to get us to see daddy. the whole time, my sister was whispering to herself "don't cry! don't cry!" the doctor was explaining to mommy that there was difficulty finding something they were looking for in his head, so that prolonged the procedure. that made my eyes tear up like crazy. as soon as daddy looked at me and told me to come over, i was gone, which started the chain reaction of everyone else crying: cecile, then mommy. i just couldn't stop. the nurse kept hugging me, trying to calm me down. i continued crying about half an hour after i left his room, while i attempted to call the store and tell them about my potential lateness for tomorrow.

turkey foot long from subway. at about 6pm, we headed back to the recovery room to see daddy before we headed home. he went to sleep after the first time we went to see him because he had a major headache and he needed his rest, and he was still asleep when we got there, so we stayed around until he woke up. his head had a lot of lumps in it [mommy said it's from the wires in his head], and the gauzes were getting bloody. eventually, i began to feel nauseated and dizzy. 7pm hit, i gave daddy a kiss, said the i love yous, and headed home.

now he just has to heal. at the end of the month, daddy has to go back for phase two: they insert some battery type things into his chest. mommy said it's a pace maker. then he has to heal from that. after that healing is phase three: he has to go back one more time to get it activated.

i've never been so afraid in my life. during that long ass procedure, all i could think about was "what if they mess up?" seriously; would i really be without my father? today's august 19th; it would've been my god father's 60-something'th birthday. i would've been the worst feeling to lose my daddy today . . .


day ten

the doctor taking my daddy away. i was on the verge of tears.


day nine
3:52 am. driving to the airport to get my sister. her flight was delayed. fuck air jamaica . . .

Sunday, August 17, 2008


day eight
121 pounds. this is my weight after a stomach full of arroz con gandules. smh.


day seven

jfk airport. terminal four. air jamaica. 12:53 am. definitely not the place to be. stayed there for almost two hours [his flight landed at 11:30], waiting for my cousin to get through customs. the bastards couldn't find his luggage. now here's the good part; mommy and i will be right back there tomorrow to pick up my sister [for the same time.] mommy said we're not leaving home until damn near 1 am, which is totally fine with me; make her sweat it out a bit ::evil sister grin::

Saturday, August 16, 2008


day six

sarah. my puti. so she chopped her hair off to let it grow back healthier. as her hair stylist, i lightened it, and threw a pink track in there, just for kicks. here's the turn out. we're both pleased. she's spending the night tonight. for the years we've known each other, she's never stayed for more than five hours. [weird that i actually had to look up and really think about that]

Friday, August 15, 2008


so i spent the whole morning thinking about my so-called life, looking into new schools for transferring, and completing capital one requirements. [i’ve only been awake for an hour and a half] with a belly filled with a beef patty—yes, only one—i think I’ve made up my mind on what to do with the rest my college career. i need to make some major changes in my life. typically, i’d have absolutely no idea on where to start, but this time, i almost positive i’m on the right track. let’s see how this turns out; the only way to go is up from here.

ugly girls have to be nice; it’s a good thing my girls and i are pretty, because our attitudes suck. kay said it best—i did steal it from her. my true few are definitely within arm’s reach; naica’s living back in brooklyn and going to baruch, i have sarah and bianca at city tech with me, and my karla has never gone anywhere. dominique is on her way back to philly, but i will definitely make it out there to see my best friend in her new apartment.

i spent wednesday with deeds. i did her hair, then we went to get mine done. then dinner at silver spurs—panini's and onion rings—and a stroll through union square. of course, we saw france [gag] and she bought herself the breakfast at tiffany’s dvd –on sale—to get her mind off of him. green tea lemonade at starbucks and laughing about asshole boyfriends; our un-biological sisterly bond is amazing.

the hair’s holding up pretty well. i’m still somewhat confused about the color. i think i might need to throw a bit of pink in it? we’ll see.

i’m cleaning the bathroom later. yay me . . .


day five

the absolute highlight of my day: these horrendous ass pants. it was at some cheap mira mira store in queens center mall. i told naica she should wear them for my cousin's boat ride on friday. she texted my cousin and asked if he'd buy her a drink and walk with her in the street like they're together if she wore those pants. he said friends don't let friends walk around, looking like 80s hookers. naica said she's getting me those pants for my birthday party.

quite amusing . . .

Thursday, August 14, 2008


day four

purple hair. yesss.

no more words for that. i'm just so happy.

i'm soo the shit.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008


just thinking about how much of a bitch i can be. well, not really a bitch; it would just be amusing to add up all the money i've spent during my relationship. hundreds of dollars, i'm sure. a trip to allentown, olive garden [twice], silver spurs, movies for him and his cousin, metro cards, starbucks . . . [yes, i really just named a whole bunch of shit.] one of these days, I’ll be bored enough to dig for receipts and add everything up; maybe make an i.o.u. and save it for whenever the bastard decides to resurface.

there was this girl sitting next to me on the train tonight. she had an absolutely huge overbite. she'd be a decent looking girl, if it wasn't for her mouth.

i need money; bills are piling up. [fuck]

hAPPY biRfDAY eL. the funniest convo with this bitch at like one am:

eL: i honestly forgot how old i was just now until i read my bestest's away.
eL: like i know everyone was sayin happy bdayy -- but i jus forgot how old i am.
moi: that’s how you know you’re old as fuck
eL: i need a drink.
eL: brb.
moi: wait, you’re really gonna get a drink?
eL: yeaa -- we got vibes in the house.

then six minutes later . . .

eL: LMAO i’ve never made a margarita so fast in my life.
eL: i thought i heard my aunt coming.
eL: smh tasted horrible.
moi: what would she have said if she caught you?
eL: why are you drinking alone?
moi: because it’s my birfday?
eL: she feels thats what acholics do.
moi: its a celebratory drink
eL: yeaa.

purple hair this week; for real, for real. i’m so excited. jason and i went to ricky’s to get ultra violet manic panic, along with a new lip gloss and a whole bunch of color gloss samples [having a ricky’s manager as an ex-boyfriend and really good friend can seriously come in handy.] hopefully,i don’t have to go to work so i can get it done. but i still have to do dominique’s weave in the morning—sewn in. then i have to do roxanne’s this weave this weekend—another sewn in job. she was supposed to be coming to new york tomorrow, but she has to get finger prints done for her new job on friday, so she’ll be here saturday. my sister comes sunday night. i have to get her from the airport after my store meeting. let’s see how she reacts to the color . . .


day three
this is the first thing i see when i wake up in the morning [depending on how i wake up.] this corner in my room is full of magazines and kid robot toys. this is my inspiration and motivation to get my room remodeled. i'm excited to do it. money's tight, but it'll get done in due time.

Monday, August 11, 2008


day two

this is little zoe, my manager's daughter. this three year old has a mouth on her. she knows every one's name at the store and will carry on a whole conversation with you about iCarly.

she said the cutest thing to gary. so to understand the rest of this post, you need to know the background; gary is our visual lead. he's gay, the only dude that i'd battle and proudly say he killed me, and i love it. so she says to gary: "are you a boy or a girl?" and gary says: "a little of both!"

the absolute most hilarious thing i've ever heard.

Sunday, August 10, 2008


day one

this is the nest of weave i pulled out of my hair this morning when i got home. yes, it's pink and purple. it's just sitting on my side table [next to the same bottle of smart water i've been drinking since friday night. yuck.] hair shows are cool. i really thought it was going to be like that movie with monique, and i'd have a helicopter made of hair on my head or something. ha.

project 365 ; just so you know

so this new thing i'm doing; project 365. a pic a day. read up on it. you're wlelcome =]

". . . Why do it?
Taking a photo a day is a big undertaking with big payoffs. Here are just a few reasons why you should consider doing it:
Imagine being able to look back at any day of your year and recall what you did, who you met, what you learned… (Often we find it hard to remember what we did just yesterday or even last night, let alone a whole year ago!)
Your year-long photo album will be an amazing way to document your travels and accomplishments, your haircuts and relationships. Time moves surprisingly fast.
Taking a photo a day will make you a better photographer. Using your camera every day will help you learn its limits. You will get better at composing your shots, you’ll start to care about lighting, and you’ll become more creative with your photography when you’re forced to come up with something new every single day.
Tips on How to Do It
Here are six tips on how to create your own Project 365:
Bring Your Camera EverywhereYes, everywhere. Get in the habit. Grocery stores, restaurants, parties, work, and school. Going to a movie theatre? Snap a pic of the flick with your phone–there are photo-ops everywhere. If you have one of those tiny tiny cameras, you have no excuse not to have it in your pocket all the time. And if you don’t? Camera phones are a great substitute.
Make Posting EasyYou can install blog software like Movable Type or Wordpress on your own site and create an entry for each photo, but for true ease of use, try a photo sharing site. Flickr will let you post a week’s worth of photos in 2 minutes flat, and fotolog and are geared toward a photo-a-day workflow. Making it fast and easy means you’re much more likely to do it.
Vary Your ThemesTry to capture the day’s events in a single photo. Perform photographic experiments. Take a photo of someone new you meet, something you ate for the first time, or something you just learned how to do. Take a photo of something that made you smile. And don’t forget to take a photo of yourself at least once a month so you can remember how you’ve changed, too.
Tell a StoryUse your blog entry, or your photo description, to explain what’s going on in each day’s photograph. How good did that dinner taste? What made you want to take a photo of that stranger? It’ll help you remember down the road, and it gives friends following along a better appreciation of why you took the photo you did. You don’t need to write a lot, just enough to add some color.
Don’t Stop, No Matter WhatThis is perhaps the most important tip of all. You will get tired of taking a photo every single day. Some days, you will consider giving up. Don’t. The end result is worth the effort. Remind yourself why you wanted to do it in first place.
There will be times you’ll think there’s nothing interesting left to take a photo of, and times you’ll think you didn’t do anything exciting enough to take a photo of. There’s always a great photo to be made.
Get out of the house and take a walk. Or stay inside and look around. Take a photo of something important to you. Take a photo of the inside of your house so you can see how your taste has changed over the years. Take a photo of anything, just don’t stop.
N.b. It helps if you’ve told your friends about the project and asked them to follow along. Their encouragement will keep you going!
Post early, post oftenPlan on going through and posting your photos at least once a week so you don’t get backlogged and feel overwhelmed. Ideally, post every day or two. Again, spend the time up front to make sure it’s quick and easy to post. It’ll make all the difference . . ."


i’m slowly starting to feel better about things. tomorrow would have been another anniversary without robert, but i’m fine. the only things I need to worry about is my money, school, and my friends—the only things that have proven to make me happy.

i sold $112 worth of product today. i have officially met my absolute worst. two friggen jackets—and one of the fuckers was on sale.

i’m still reflecting on the hair show. i’ve never seen so much weave and jamaicans in one place. shanel said she wants to use me for her shows in the future. it’s important to her, and I like making people happy. She’s a really cool, down to earth person. [we’re going to see pineapple express.] i finally went to bed around 5am and woke up at 11am. i so needed to go back to sleep, but i got called into work. i’m tired now, actually.

a white guy made an amusing attempt to talk to me earlier at the bus stop. i’m undecided on whether he got a whiff of my new found sense of i’m the shit-ness, or if it was the purple hair. i was on the phone with steve and I couldn’t help myself but to laugh.

so i’ve rekindled things with my jamillzie [hearts.] funniest convo of the night;

moi: i miss youuuu
moi: i started talking to my stuffed stitch because i thought u wouldn’t speak to me
millzie: ya stuffed stitch? fuq is dat.
moi: stitch from lilo & stitch
moi: my favorite cartoon character
moi: come on man, keep up with the times
millzie: lol nuccas use to say i looq like him.
moi: niggas used to call me lilo
moi: we're made for each other

we’re hanging out before she goes back to massachusetts in september. i’ll probably go visit her this fall. it’s only four hours away [the absolute longest four hours, might i add.] i can’t believe i stopped talking to her because of kemar. actually, i can believe it. that’s just the way things have to be when it comes to keeping up acquaintances with people that only know me through him.

my project 365 started today; a pic a day for a year—a whole year. this should be fun.

i don’t really have much to say tonight. i keep struggling with this damn purple track in the front of my head though . . .


just got in from the hair show. that shit was crazy. shanel almost killed the bitch at american apparel, the make up artist was ridiculous, i had neon orange nails and purple and pink hair, and sasheen and i plotted to rape the photographer. i definitely sat my ass on the 2 train at 3am and pulled all those damn pins out. i'm laying in bed and i decided i'm loving the purple streaked bangs. pompadore tomorrow?

i'm getting my hair done in a few weeks. color; i'm whole again =)

Saturday, August 9, 2008


for the most part, today was amazing. sarah is a really good friend. she surely made me feel better. massive amounts of shopping, lunch at le basket, pics in the kira plastinina photo booth, and more shopping. now i just have to think of the quotable moments—those will have to come later. [sarah, think of them; i know you remember.]

dassler v.i.p. bowling flopped. not being 21 sucks. oh well.

off to bed. hair show tomorrow.

Friday, August 8, 2008


so yesterday i spent the day alone. no phone, no way of the world reaching me. it felt good to come home to a missed call. only one. i love you sarah <3

and the first thing i woke up to was my kay-babaloo asking if i was feeling better. this is why i'd dump my best friend for his girlfriend.

* i just thought that should be said.


i thought things were going to get better since i decided to let robert go. apparently, they haven't. for the greater part of the day, i cried. and cleaned. a lot more crying than cleaning though. yea, we're done, but he seems to come up in every conversation; shit that doesn't even involve him, the bastard's name gets put into. my eyes are burning. they're puffy. i know i need to continue with my life, but this swill definitely be one of the hardest things to overcome. i'm in this world alone, so i have to get through this alone. it's cute when i see people brag about how "they wouldn't be the way they are without their friends." i commend them and congratulate them for coming across and managing to keep people like that in their lives. i don't have support system friendships. no one thinks to sugar coat a damn thing. i'm just the jolly, anorexic girl that digs to find the good in everyone and loves them, despite their flaws; so my feelings don't matter much at all. the actual blunt nature society has instilled has broken me down and worn me out. i used to be sweet, i used to be loving-- i used to give a fuck. if anyone manages to bring that ava-marie back, then they're a miracle worker. the truth of the matter is that i don't want to be that ava-marie any more. i've been that way all my life, and look where it's gotten me.

Thursday, August 7, 2008


i know i said i wouldn't waste another tear; but what the fuck is wrong with me now?

Wednesday, August 6, 2008


this blog may potentially not make sense; it's just a bunch of random things—whatever comes to mind.

roxy and i drove around aimlessly on thursday—her errands, not mine. lots of random pics of the city. very much tourist-esque. she found her party dress while i tried on dresses out of bordeom. the party was fun. there was horrible food, a wack ass dj, but we sure did wild the fuck out. carlene shaved her head, tricia cussed out the dj, and no one could tell roxy and i apart. my girls and my family; what more could a girl ask for? of course, there had to be that one person to ask for "my light-skinned counterpart." i'm officially done with that. i can't afford to lose any more sleep or cry any more tears. i told carlene about the whole ordeal, then i told her about zion. she flipped; not because of robert having a two-year old son—as i thought she might have—but because i supported his ass and his kid, and he's so friggen ungrateful, and he has the audassity to just disappear.

i think i should stop cursing in my blogs. that'll be a test.

my trefoil charm popped off my phone. sad much?

i caught one of my mini bitch fits at work. mother dearest just upsets me with everything relating to life and her views of "the real world" that i can't control it sometimes. i cried a little in the stockroom at work today. she just puts so much pressure on me. now, i understand she wants the best for me, but i’m young—let me live a little. please?

daddy’s having the surgery for his parkinson’s on the 19th, so my sister’s flying up this week. we definitely do not get along. everyone knows she’s the favorite, and she hates me because i’ve had daddy my whole life. the warden sibling rivalry is weird, since we all hate each other for our own reasons. but my pride is my best friend and i’ll be the bitch to say i am the more fortunate child—not in the financial respect, because that’s definitely my oldest brother. i’ve gotten the chance to build a better relationship with my father—not saying that i have—since my parents have been married for about twenty-five years, i’m the only child that even went to high school, is in college now, while maintaining a job, and i don’t have kids. between my three siblings, i have five nieces and nephews. i do, in part, owe that to my upbringing, but, call me selfish if you must, that’s not really enough. my father didn’t come to my high school graduation because he wasn’t feeling well, but he sure as hell got himself on a plane and flew to barbados to attend some corrections officer training completion ceremony for my sister [who isn’t even working as a c.o. now.] let cecile call and ask daddy for anything, he’ll get it for her, but he’ll always ask me for money. my mother can easily pull out her ass and drop a grand to fly her, the step child who talks endless amounts of bullshit about her, to new york, but let me ask for just a metro card or five dollars, and there’s a problem. my sister is friggen thirty years old with two kids, no job, and living with some man; is it too much to ask for a little support in anything i do from my parents? i just want some feeling of acceptance.
enough with the depressing shit . . .

mac and cheese and calamari—lunch was banging today. i love le basket.

these losers i call my co-workers—good times, man, good times. so there’s this weird old white guy, steve. he just makes the most slack, sexual, comments. he said some shit about waking up with someone’s tongue in your butthole. i almost killed myself with laughter when marlon told me that shit. it was a conversation about ridiculous survival techniques, and the butthole comment was steve’s two cents. toya and i were looking at cassie’s fast ass in complex at lunch, and old-man steve couldn’t put his eyes back into his head. i always seem to get the same lunch hour as him, which is quite disturbing to me. i really do try to avoid him—definitely not going near the elevators [that have no cameras.] but the stock guys are worst. i always seem to walk in at the most inappropriate times, catching the conversations at their peaks; things like chasing booty and looking up at me while she’s giving me head. gotta love it.

bowling with the losers on friday. it’s odessa’s peace out event. i’ll miss her.

hair show on saturday. practice tomorrow. i’m pooped . . .

Friday, August 1, 2008


just like an angel, you're gonna make me fly
into your arms, you're wrapping me up so tight
you had me crawling so bad
had me heels over head
you got me easy, you got me easy
tangled up in my head
quit trying to hold and to help me
cuz we're already beautiful
so don't make me cry
cuz this love dont feel so right
you can't push a river
you can't make me fall
but you can make me unreachable
i may be sweet, but i'm still on the vine
you couldn't wait, no, you had to take your bite
you had me crawling so bad
had me heels over head
you had me easy, you had me easy
too late to go back
to realize what we had
we were already beautiful
so don't make me cry
cuz this love dont feel so right
you can't push a river
you can't make me fall
but you can make me unreachable
sometimes love is addiction
sometimes it hurts like hell
and sometimes you just can't get enough
you can't make me love you
any more than i do
but you can make me unreachable
don't make me cry
cuz this love dont feel right
you can't push a river
you can't make me fall
but you can make me
so don't make me cry
cuz this love don't feel so right
you can't push a river
you can't make me fall
but you can make me unreachable

*retarded ass ashlee simpson ; just so happens that she's helping . . .


i'm remotely stressed, i guess. i'm sitting at my dining room table with my mother & roxy and we're just talking about random things: getting puppies, bubbles, old rock bands. it's starting to hit me, this robert thing. i keep getting teary-eyed. i really do love him, but love doesn't involve the hurt i'm going through. so i'm going to start loving myself more. i can't keep putting my well being on a back burner because i have this view of happiness with a person. i feel like i'm separated; skipping the marriage process, i suppose. that was the joke for the day. we're all down here so i'm trying my hardest to hold the tears in.

i haven't stayed in bed, eaten ice cream, or tried to contact robert in about a week, though he did text me a bullshit text, asking if i forgot about him, on saturday. i'm going out every chance i get. i can't do this to myself. it's bad enough that damn near everything reminds me of him.

i think i need to be alone for a while? maybe? shit, if i were to start dating again, i don't think i'd know what to do, or how to react. i was talking to a friend earlier about this; i told her i feel like i'd fall flat on my face and make an ass out of myself. i guess i have this mentality when it comes to the male species. i'm super affectionate, so i tend to be drawn to the more affectionate type. you don't show affection = you don't care. i just want someone to be there. someone to hold me and tell me everything's alright. a lot of guys now aren't like that, and the ones that are, are already taken. i'm supposed to not look for love. i'm really not looking though, but it would be nice to have someone love me, other than myself.

crying . . .