#42

day nine

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

#41

day eight

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

#40

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::

#39

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]

#38

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 . . .

#37

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 . . .

#36

day four

purple hair. yesss.

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

i'm soo the shit.

#35

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 . . .

#34

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.

#33

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.

#32

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 Photoblog.com 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 . . ."

#31

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 . . .

#30

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 =)

#29

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.

#28

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.

#27

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.

#26

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

#25

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 . . .

#24

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 . . .

#23

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 . . .