tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53098214100416077372024-03-05T14:07:07.160-08:00dripped milk.EMi.http://www.blogger.com/profile/13697586455412723409noreply@blogger.comBlogger61125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5309821410041607737.post-36192471900816028862010-08-16T00:53:00.000-07:002010-08-16T00:55:39.524-07:00::13::<div style="text-align: center;">How was your Friday the 13th?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK7vR70fhA9846xIc4VILGjQsg0Zj8A7e7637DCYLXojmPEnWBmSFyNEbRS_OftTuum18v_iqa7x5rimrhuUzp3OklSvVKB233ybcXyV6pcAJEzXQ0oSyZkh-CV2lI5pHaYvaBm2VbSPIW/s1600/DSCF3967.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK7vR70fhA9846xIc4VILGjQsg0Zj8A7e7637DCYLXojmPEnWBmSFyNEbRS_OftTuum18v_iqa7x5rimrhuUzp3OklSvVKB233ybcXyV6pcAJEzXQ0oSyZkh-CV2lI5pHaYvaBm2VbSPIW/s320/DSCF3967.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505913038319502882" border="0" /></a><br />Mine was eventful, to say the least.<br />(Also meaning I got a $55 parking ticket, fittingly)<br /><br /></div>EMi.http://www.blogger.com/profile/13697586455412723409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5309821410041607737.post-12425052734784893492010-08-13T00:20:00.000-07:002010-08-13T21:59:14.400-07:00::Rilakkuma Party!::<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjow45-6EdBG1Mnrli6xiImf6bH96Ch-wTM6jKs78ZAOVBxeBDQSzi-8-_xdfvEYY2cWbyPd_I7Jv_Rg_WAece5rfm20sU0jWLwEH8JTtR3TbnmpmrZ4Yk7aAcOmDlM5v5vJPMwBIH7KLqs/s1600/DSCF3968.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjow45-6EdBG1Mnrli6xiImf6bH96Ch-wTM6jKs78ZAOVBxeBDQSzi-8-_xdfvEYY2cWbyPd_I7Jv_Rg_WAece5rfm20sU0jWLwEH8JTtR3TbnmpmrZ4Yk7aAcOmDlM5v5vJPMwBIH7KLqs/s320/DSCF3968.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505125632805062866" border="0" /></a><br />My friends at <a href="http://bubblepunch.wordpress.com/">BUBBLEPUNCH </a>kindly invited me to the Rilakkuma Weekend VIP Party held at Umamiburger in Hollywood!<br /><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7fmpGTjc8hK0poi03ef8zsCtNfRkzyHLfE48-wlS8WxSmArhB-r1ysk6zFAWbxuqaJvC9GG9zP0dGXZEI-7borg747RcIitpCv6vhcvSjFYOTn5eB-fas1PQHFsj6FhQLF3sxg0WNF1xZ/s320/DSCF3939.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504793261848526642" border="0" />Me and Lane decided to try and get to Umami Burger early so we could get the "free gift bags for the first 100 guests"! ...and HELLO, TRAFFIC. We got there closer to 7, but got lucky and got the gift bags! ...and WOW. Do not be fooled by the word "gift bag"(which usually only is a small bag with trinket or two) We got a bag full of SWAG! So many cute Rilakkuma goodies! (and some Mame goma ones too!)We even got a cute Rilakkuma T-shirt!<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZQFP9m1LAbK8k-E_4vDbDUtN3kc8y9zHiOWBLSuxQ3EIlT9V51e9AkYOqo1xIbTVGPKFezZJT6G4GR29c3Z0IdLuZSdM3Prc9Xtp5yvOVyyndhzqzCfcu1b_10UD9TqB-Vc0eRvnB9xYd/s1600/DSCF3935.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZQFP9m1LAbK8k-E_4vDbDUtN3kc8y9zHiOWBLSuxQ3EIlT9V51e9AkYOqo1xIbTVGPKFezZJT6G4GR29c3Z0IdLuZSdM3Prc9Xtp5yvOVyyndhzqzCfcu1b_10UD9TqB-Vc0eRvnB9xYd/s320/DSCF3935.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504793257868185106" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTG3h3_gsqGzpM93qq_c_TKEJQvTCV2zYC6C1zkDnQZxUMlUnmHtlYnND5kwkEXxLyiB-DDmVkLFtGXl2G1B7hUWHdpQjjXR7unMcYWLrW4860Q8VKzCeud8do57jO5Yr5nYF908ZFOolx/s1600/DSCF3941.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTG3h3_gsqGzpM93qq_c_TKEJQvTCV2zYC6C1zkDnQZxUMlUnmHtlYnND5kwkEXxLyiB-DDmVkLFtGXl2G1B7hUWHdpQjjXR7unMcYWLrW4860Q8VKzCeud8do57jO5Yr5nYF908ZFOolx/s320/DSCF3941.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504793271757914034" border="0" /></a>Soooo many people! It's always fun to look at all them beautiful and fashionable Angelinos strut out in! ...Couple cute lolitas, here and there. I was too lazy to go all out (also, too determined on stuffing myself with the delicious food there, and dismissing dress-up time) and went out in my snug Super Lovers dress. However, my new Iron Fist stilettos got a lot of compliments, which made me happy (="I'm glad I blew $40 on these!"). Someone was quite surprised when I told them I got them at Comic Con... Yes, that place is nerd mecca, but it also does provide a lot of cute/awesome/cool finds, too.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirF8ih0BYW-_FDGvKIUD7d15HvN6r1u2CZ8yWRpKkdF_gR5myqirvbrKQZbHzuahWKRuD9mPdPs7VYMTnQDy6kmcEMDtyOrWE7ARdkdXHd65StczxGiK4EPR5PegKKrjcI4Dgjxguslfp4/s1600/DSCF3944.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirF8ih0BYW-_FDGvKIUD7d15HvN6r1u2CZ8yWRpKkdF_gR5myqirvbrKQZbHzuahWKRuD9mPdPs7VYMTnQDy6kmcEMDtyOrWE7ARdkdXHd65StczxGiK4EPR5PegKKrjcI4Dgjxguslfp4/s320/DSCF3944.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504794415304095906" border="0" /></a>Why hello, Mr."Don't-feed-this-kid-booze" Xs! I see you have decided to accompany me to this party as well. (How I wanted to yell "But I'm legal in my own country!" when I saw the wall of delicious looking sake... and had to stare at Maya with eyes filled with envy as she enjoyed her raspberry sake...)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsE4lTbLq32CuYX4ddX7Vn79R_y4JD_TYFGxJWFtU9o2W3Ct9u5SHAHjslj7PWuPH19O9PCU60BfEFTNUsIeaA1FbtIzn1S45oF4FXOKEn-4DOoYNCQ625AUkOcEkFWTlCaBnB0Dn9gvsS/s1600/DSCF3950.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsE4lTbLq32CuYX4ddX7Vn79R_y4JD_TYFGxJWFtU9o2W3Ct9u5SHAHjslj7PWuPH19O9PCU60BfEFTNUsIeaA1FbtIzn1S45oF4FXOKEn-4DOoYNCQ625AUkOcEkFWTlCaBnB0Dn9gvsS/s320/DSCF3950.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504794426578355922" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqBqvxTRGGCt_GLPg8a-kapQXr6vImY4ZYKRAzVIjCn579HqBbxOS3HbEQ__XzJxgb0g-6-5hEAP7w_hXDMXzKbc76JTipIIf86aypGi3-IwguzLArJrz8RirI2kxtJuD0YUCJbp-urDqG/s1600/DSCF3945.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqBqvxTRGGCt_GLPg8a-kapQXr6vImY4ZYKRAzVIjCn579HqBbxOS3HbEQ__XzJxgb0g-6-5hEAP7w_hXDMXzKbc76JTipIIf86aypGi3-IwguzLArJrz8RirI2kxtJuD0YUCJbp-urDqG/s320/DSCF3945.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504794423191082402" border="0" /></a>THE FOOD WAS SO YUMMY! I wasn't expecting this level of nom-noms! Especially when you're under 21, the only thing you look forward to at events is food (+desserts)... and socializing with people, too. This party definitely did not disappoint! The sliders were so scrumptious, I am convinced to go and visit Umami Burger again. I was quite upset when Gary Baseman (who happened to be sitting to the table next to us) took all the sliders that the waitress was bringing our way (or I would like to believe that she was). I even declared that I wasn't as big of a fan of his work anymore, after that incident. That's how yummy those sliders were!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMEzCSmM10Nn1clVSx1m4bAJaqYruh1cMgijnwC1bos_LfYIrpTGcUhFpTKnUHfCEIj9-FRP-X9nGnUid8aHjkWBL9L3Ggv6byVRqhyIHCN3PGP85IG2FNP1EzXHBhXj3JygPbrjvcaepR/s1600/DSCF3955.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMEzCSmM10Nn1clVSx1m4bAJaqYruh1cMgijnwC1bos_LfYIrpTGcUhFpTKnUHfCEIj9-FRP-X9nGnUid8aHjkWBL9L3Ggv6byVRqhyIHCN3PGP85IG2FNP1EzXHBhXj3JygPbrjvcaepR/s320/DSCF3955.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504796799269121618" border="0" /></a>After the party, we decided to hit up PINK'S HOT DOG since Lane was still hungry... I've never been there, after living in LA for 2 years. I finally went, and since the line was so long, I resumed with my crocheting. ...Fittingly, I ordered the Martha Stewart Dog, but was stuffed after 2 bites.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirF8ih0BYW-_FDGvKIUD7d15HvN6r1u2CZ8yWRpKkdF_gR5myqirvbrKQZbHzuahWKRuD9mPdPs7VYMTnQDy6kmcEMDtyOrWE7ARdkdXHd65StczxGiK4EPR5PegKKrjcI4Dgjxguslfp4/s1600/DSCF3944.JPG"><br /></a>EMi.http://www.blogger.com/profile/13697586455412723409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5309821410041607737.post-83932948673263550002010-08-07T01:43:00.000-07:002010-08-07T04:29:34.121-07:00::Ode to the jewel toned girls::"I SWEAR, IF I GOT A DOLLAR FOR EVERY TIME SOMEONE COMPLIMENTED MY HAIR OR ASKED ME HOW TO DYE IT, I WOULD BE RICH BY NOW."<br />-Me, shopping at Whole Foods, after hearing "I love you hair!" for the 5th time that day.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga29O7ipx7zx2Zq1vtT4dVBTDPUHlwOQOPWbeoJoxIG_3Mb94BOS8RrFDA90oB51Z0aU1eCKgWvcFpu5HR01dYZ021ZX4NTbRxc9W30dt_lTWqtkywoxnuPffMZOUpX8RFoWii2Gstboz1/s1600/%E5%86%99%E7%9C%9F%EF%BC%882010-08-07+01.08%EF%BC%89.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga29O7ipx7zx2Zq1vtT4dVBTDPUHlwOQOPWbeoJoxIG_3Mb94BOS8RrFDA90oB51Z0aU1eCKgWvcFpu5HR01dYZ021ZX4NTbRxc9W30dt_lTWqtkywoxnuPffMZOUpX8RFoWii2Gstboz1/s320/%E5%86%99%E7%9C%9F%EF%BC%882010-08-07+01.08%EF%BC%89.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502593865557706466" border="0" /></a>I am happy with my vodka peach orange mango concoction<br />with my colorist gloves as I prepare for routine hair maintenance.<br /></div><br /><br />I have a lot of respect for all those ladies out there with jewel-toned hair. [not saying I respect myself, but sometimes I amaze myself with how much effort I put into my hair... its allllll out of love, baby.]<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPY9I0Mu7NCaQKlRv0E8q91EztnYP7QCaBR5ggHPYhgpZ1fMMgbOoV-c_9mihTujS5y4yDLIKE6lG4inWsjJngoyEUV8oEYMD-H59pFCb2FDrH8UZ2sIo0OBEcqVJMwM7Kalcbrpn7Rzbt/s1600/DSCF3899.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPY9I0Mu7NCaQKlRv0E8q91EztnYP7QCaBR5ggHPYhgpZ1fMMgbOoV-c_9mihTujS5y4yDLIKE6lG4inWsjJngoyEUV8oEYMD-H59pFCb2FDrH8UZ2sIo0OBEcqVJMwM7Kalcbrpn7Rzbt/s320/DSCF3899.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502626065150950306" border="0" /></a>Essential tricks of trade;<br />a) Foil. It's foil.<br />b) Developer. I use 30 for good measure.<br />c) Bleach packet. I use L'Oreal.<br />d) Bowl. I think I jacked it from my roommate.<br />e) Brush.<br />f) Petroleum Jelly. Fancy word for Vaseline.<br />Also, cheaper than Vaseline at CVS.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCJV3KKArgD6wPMLvOHUxRsnE0GtKqfYDMzeQuKEcxBF4koPYYpDarixEoHAqMGwUrpeDGCYmYitU-LptCClzreiKTQkQzJh5JAueNcEb7n33jwUj1ZGwzFfJhkQVeJGWt4AAAzCt9QT_2/s1600/DSCF3900.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCJV3KKArgD6wPMLvOHUxRsnE0GtKqfYDMzeQuKEcxBF4koPYYpDarixEoHAqMGwUrpeDGCYmYitU-LptCClzreiKTQkQzJh5JAueNcEb7n33jwUj1ZGwzFfJhkQVeJGWt4AAAzCt9QT_2/s320/DSCF3900.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502626068217238018" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNiMUJYf4irBV4I3LxWcGJFqsys9qnqpt9VwT911N6uSU0Hi7yNL0VH47cwX6G6PJG9Xx4VJa55iep9xzoS66InsJVkwunAqBjHG4qIxTUCF5jL_uKAaTHxhSid2ZxneZQU_Q33DsE_4cA/s1600/%E5%86%99%E7%9C%9F%EF%BC%882010-08-07+01.26%EF%BC%89+%232.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNiMUJYf4irBV4I3LxWcGJFqsys9qnqpt9VwT911N6uSU0Hi7yNL0VH47cwX6G6PJG9Xx4VJa55iep9xzoS66InsJVkwunAqBjHG4qIxTUCF5jL_uKAaTHxhSid2ZxneZQU_Q33DsE_4cA/s320/%E5%86%99%E7%9C%9F%EF%BC%882010-08-07+01.26%EF%BC%89+%232.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502626349973004770" border="0" /></a>Instantly a lonely drunk when doing hair.<br />This drink was delicious.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>And here I am at 3:10AM on a beautiful Saturday morning, waiting for my bleached and washed hair to dry up, so I can apply my hair dye and go to sleep.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha6OZN8eDKk_oHb4m8qv0elRE-hfw4Js99-A2dzRi3RaJRRpXUWyxKSBL4FCEyLcIqP2YHJiQO7q0BPWPatK0Xw8fX3-A3bEh2OY8zKYPuDHluAAH0WFY8jL8oscxI8WkIBIEeMCK70FV_/s1600/DSCF3910.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha6OZN8eDKk_oHb4m8qv0elRE-hfw4Js99-A2dzRi3RaJRRpXUWyxKSBL4FCEyLcIqP2YHJiQO7q0BPWPatK0Xw8fX3-A3bEh2OY8zKYPuDHluAAH0WFY8jL8oscxI8WkIBIEeMCK70FV_/s320/DSCF3910.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502626656264889234" border="0" /></a>My hair-dye soulmates.(Maybe not quite so for Manic Panic, however)<br />I do not know how I could possibly maintain vibrant jewel tones that actually last more than 1 wash except for Special Effects. Excuse it's horrible taste in type face, and not very impressive packaging design that gives an impression that this product is for GAWTH KIDS at Hot Topic who want "super non-conformist" hair colors, BUT THIS PRODUCT IS AMAZING.<br />If I ever become a good designer, the first packaging I will plead to redesign is that of Special Effects. I will gladly do it in exchange of some bottles of their products.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br />And here I am, 4:24 AM, head wrapped in foil and 2 layers of shower caps, waiting for the color to sink in well. Thorough the years of maintaining not-so-conforming hair colors, I found out one of the essential tricks of making color last longer is to leave the dye in as long as you can. And since the demi-permanent dyes I've recruited are vegetable-based, or safe to leave in your hair for long hours, I usually leave it in over night. (Unless I dye in the morning, stay home all day, and wash at night)<br /></div></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMvPaaRcvgqxlgmGf1bDcH18OFiTXTf9wt0SZoN5wYVUtCPNFkqei1OBjunFuPInedVGc7ghfJbQHUjwD3tvoccx7tsY3vCYbetdcvhow_0KCaijl6i3nIaT9IjiXYaiKiHrf-PrMarD88/s1600/%E5%86%99%E7%9C%9F%EF%BC%882010-08-07+04.17%EF%BC%89.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMvPaaRcvgqxlgmGf1bDcH18OFiTXTf9wt0SZoN5wYVUtCPNFkqei1OBjunFuPInedVGc7ghfJbQHUjwD3tvoccx7tsY3vCYbetdcvhow_0KCaijl6i3nIaT9IjiXYaiKiHrf-PrMarD88/s320/%E5%86%99%E7%9C%9F%EF%BC%882010-08-07+04.17%EF%BC%89.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502627964570604402" border="0" /></a>Close-up of my head, that looks like a space-station if anything.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">It's not an easy job, and it takes more than enough time than I would wish, but in the end, its absolutely worth it.<br /></div></div>EMi.http://www.blogger.com/profile/13697586455412723409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5309821410041607737.post-83631763433325553672010-08-05T00:05:00.000-07:002010-08-05T00:39:41.561-07:00::Emi love.s. Poketo::<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlU__wzUqVJA1UB7bFH-cmS9B_xpHDCfw7dU27ofuhJnJ6wixKP7l9Cl0Hb9IlIeT4hDjkN4GUYT_eZq30-26jhIn1zo7w1q4g-6YHae5YUHXXKxj3C2hanhu44bfBBY40A4y9IO4lJqCi/s1600/about_us2.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 176px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlU__wzUqVJA1UB7bFH-cmS9B_xpHDCfw7dU27ofuhJnJ6wixKP7l9Cl0Hb9IlIeT4hDjkN4GUYT_eZq30-26jhIn1zo7w1q4g-6YHae5YUHXXKxj3C2hanhu44bfBBY40A4y9IO4lJqCi/s400/about_us2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501820747712145186" border="0" /></a>EMi♥Poketo.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><div style="text-align: left;">I have a weakness for a certain something. It's companies such as <a href="http://poketo.com/">POKETO</a> that have a ZAKKA (雑貨。trans. miscellaneous goods/sundries in Japanese. The term 「雑貨店」/zakka.ten(shop) refers to shops that sells random goods, sometimes practical, sometimes not.) Another unique Japanese term that cannot easily be translated by words, but its a "feel" that can be "felt" once you encounter it. I almost feels as if POKETO offers a zakka of "art", or translating art work into zakka, making it more accessible for everybody.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdFVYr4r83Tz_HzK0ddQIuaMSdwi1D8Uwb1tYcA8uJQaMlYvx33jGXDXYR9NqFmo1lENQrFOKNtQbLIW03YTbwMD6VZQaVkTgXqqosvc6ZnXrdEsrk2xq8qlcQySPPyNT6bPR4ljeOmRk_/s1600/%E3%82%B9%E3%82%AF%E3%83%AA%E3%83%BC%E3%83%B3%E3%82%B7%E3%83%A7%E3%83%83%E3%83%88%EF%BC%882010-08-05+0.12.56%EF%BC%89.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 105px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdFVYr4r83Tz_HzK0ddQIuaMSdwi1D8Uwb1tYcA8uJQaMlYvx33jGXDXYR9NqFmo1lENQrFOKNtQbLIW03YTbwMD6VZQaVkTgXqqosvc6ZnXrdEsrk2xq8qlcQySPPyNT6bPR4ljeOmRk_/s320/%E3%82%B9%E3%82%AF%E3%83%AA%E3%83%BC%E3%83%B3%E3%82%B7%E3%83%A7%E3%83%83%E3%83%88%EF%BC%882010-08-05+0.12.56%EF%BC%89.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501820858968551522" border="0" /></a><br />Poketo was founded by filmmaker, Ted Vadakan and graphic designer, Angie Myung (Two very sweet people I had the joy of encountering at Comic Con the last couple times I've been there!) in 2003, and is currently based in Los Angeles. Initially, through their project of creating limited-edition artist wallets, they made "art" that was "unaffordable" by the general public more accessible, ultimately fulfilling an average person's need for art. Through the years, POKETO has evolved into a company offering more and more art to the general public, through their items such as wallets, plates, T-shirts, stationary, and so on. Needless to say, POKETO was an innovator in offering an art-infused lifestyles.<br /><br />...and how cannot I love them.<br />Their concept. Their motive. As well as everything they do. Giving up and coming artists a chance to be noticed, as well as collaborating with more well known artists so that the general public can have a chance to access "art" that usually cannot be purchased with their budget. Also, the whole idea of offering an "art lifestyle". How can I say no.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8zB8DEs5-RHBRfD31xettFZBh8A5n_yhG2MG4nTa8GLwE_u77qXFDhgnSr5XU2yXpI7cvbkmf7VWdjzw9dkstnVOLyXoQrozE6_XjuaIbcL_xOCSCixNLrIy-gGGfJSkUGNN74lzjrFKl/s1600/365-460x460.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 314px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8zB8DEs5-RHBRfD31xettFZBh8A5n_yhG2MG4nTa8GLwE_u77qXFDhgnSr5XU2yXpI7cvbkmf7VWdjzw9dkstnVOLyXoQrozE6_XjuaIbcL_xOCSCixNLrIy-gGGfJSkUGNN74lzjrFKl/s320/365-460x460.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501824120417512722" border="0" /></a><br />I first came across POKETO when one of my closest friends got me ⇧this adorable wallet as a gift. He told me that the girl on the wallet reminded him of me (My mother brushed it off with a "Pssshh as if! The only thing similar are your straight cut bangs!"...but I had an "Awwww" moment) and picked it up, thinking it would be a perfect gift. And it was. First, I adored the artwork, and second, I had never seen a wallet like this before (what happened to Japan having the zany crazy cool stuff?), and third, it reminded me of my friend, especially because we were a sea apart (back then) and I rarely got to see him. Needless to say, I almost went psycho when I thought I lost this wallet, and was relieved as soon as I discovered it in a side pocket of my school bag. Since I used the wallet to its full potential (more like, had too many cards inside the card pocket and sadly, the wallet started falling apart), I decided to let it retire. I still have this wallet inside a box of old memories that I keep in my dad's house back in Japan. This winter will be a good time to revisit it, and I will most likely bring it back home to LA with me.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhxHozj51T5m6DfD-YTw8hZIIyqf0BDmGh47MvNZ5uMXyW6tiMo6Sx5ewR1NUj7UJNHEznxwwqUJ1r8ctBmCxBoqR3cUrdPvG0p5oyMGRfAhYIYhy53qpYwfDTDEqUlnO_bXJrfz0P-LQW/s1600/%E5%86%99%E7%9C%9F%EF%BC%882010-08-04+18.48%EF%BC%89.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhxHozj51T5m6DfD-YTw8hZIIyqf0BDmGh47MvNZ5uMXyW6tiMo6Sx5ewR1NUj7UJNHEznxwwqUJ1r8ctBmCxBoqR3cUrdPvG0p5oyMGRfAhYIYhy53qpYwfDTDEqUlnO_bXJrfz0P-LQW/s320/%E5%86%99%E7%9C%9F%EF%BC%882010-08-04+18.48%EF%BC%89.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501826046223646418" border="0" /></a>TODAY::<br /><div style="text-align: left;">I heard of POKETO's collection for Target (Oh Target how you love to collaborate with all my favorites, McQueen, Rodarte, Gaultier, and now THIS. I send kisses your way.) and nagged my roommate and friends to come to Target with me, using "I need to buy new notebooks for the new semester!!" (and yes, I still take my notes on paper, despite the fact I take my MacBook with me everywhere I go) as an excuse. Keeping my fingers crossed that the POKETO items were there, despite their official release date being Aug. 10th. ...And TA-DA! There they were. A lot of items were sold out (I'm not surprised), and this was the last bird-bag left, so I snatched it before anyone else could lay their eyes on it. And what can I say, I'm a happy owner of another POKETO item, and now equipped with a fabulous new bag for school :)<br /></div></div></div></div></div></div>EMi.http://www.blogger.com/profile/13697586455412723409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5309821410041607737.post-28368018406671576972010-08-03T01:34:00.000-07:002010-08-03T02:02:41.195-07:00::Fly Away, Honey.::<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWsQYNX6WdSf2CBX5iPzJayejofZO2vGYGxpIaeO8-oayqfKx-KrE4GARvpBqzZ3EMtvM2FmvrisOuEBPWg2wFMavxtg5Lv1vgqmoYHom9O3aelGaMx1E9fG-y9MeTaNoWvv3Rlg8GeFU0/s1600/tumblr_l6bhg9NDrH1qzabkfo1_500.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 310px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWsQYNX6WdSf2CBX5iPzJayejofZO2vGYGxpIaeO8-oayqfKx-KrE4GARvpBqzZ3EMtvM2FmvrisOuEBPWg2wFMavxtg5Lv1vgqmoYHom9O3aelGaMx1E9fG-y9MeTaNoWvv3Rlg8GeFU0/s320/tumblr_l6bhg9NDrH1qzabkfo1_500.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501099299181313170" border="0" /></a><br />"I just felt like a shitty daughter, not even being able to be there for my mom when she needs me, when she needs me to be on her side. But I can't do it, I love them both equally, and I just can't take sides"<br /><br />"I feel like a shitty daughter cause I'm not that pretty, straight, smart, good daughter that'll listen to her and be on her side. I'm probably everything she didn't want me to be."<br /><br />"That's fine, you're doing the right thing."<br /><br />"Sometimes the best way to show them you love them is moving away from them."<br /><br />"...Then, she might finally notice something."<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">I have a tattoo on my left wrist. It's only 2 inches big or so, and is a stylized letter "G" I sketched one night when I was alone on my bed. It stands for many things, one being the first letter to the name of a musician I highly adore and respect, one being the first letter of the word one of my closest friend's described me as, a word I keep close to my heart.<br /><br />But most importantly, it was my sign of rebelling against my parents, my mother is particular. In the past years, slowly but surely, I was starting to stand against my parents. Actually, it was more like my mother. In a sense, it almost felt like my father had become apathetic about us at this point, and couldn't care any more. He stopped commenting on my hair color, my dress, and what on Earth I was doing. My mother was always the more nagging one, sighing in disbelief as she saw the piercings on my ears increasing, and became enraged at the fact that I "didn't inform" her that I was getting them done. I could not have argued if I was at an age where I couldn't be responsible with my own body. I am glad I didn't sneak into a studio at age, say, 13 or so, and getting something done I would regret in the near future. But I was at an age where I knew what the fuck I was doing, and what the fuck I would have to do if things went wrong. Little did she know that I used to have my lip pierced, and currently have 3 more "private" work that I wouldn't bother showing her in the first place. The septum became obvious and apparent, and she began her "I am in so much shock" reaction again. By this point, I had started numbing myself out of the whole situation. Here we go again. So? Yes? Oh really. Wow, I never knew I had to inform you about everything I do with myself. Oh, I'm such a horrific child I know, I should repent for my sins oh dear yes I should!<br /><div style="text-align: center;">And under the needle I went.<br /></div>As each time the needle entered my skin, and as the curves gracefully formed themselves upon my veins, I felt more and more liberated. The pain lulled me, the pain wasn't "pain" anymore. In a sense, this was my clumsy, awkward way of claiming my liberty. Effective or not, I do not know. But I can honestly say that I am proud that I took this move, for it has become one of the landmarks of my life.<br /><br />And then, I felt more and more freed from the fears I was dragging from an early age.<br />All this time, I was keeping myself away from the breathing space I needed. All this time, I was concealing myself and dreaded the fact that I couldn't be someone I didn't want to be, but what <span style="font-style: italic;">she </span>wanted me to be. As supporting as she was, she never truly accepted me for who I was, nor did she appreciate what I had been doing, not until there was a physical form of proof or verification. All those years she shunned me for "doodling around" magically disappeared as I brought home a certificate and small medal from my high school. All those years of her seeing me as "possibly a disgusting lesbian" dissolved as I brought home an attractive boyfriend. Little did she know that I still could love girls equally as I could love boys, and that I had no way of denying the fact that I was sexually attracted to women. I wasn't what she wanted me to be. Nor could I force myself to be some effigy she had created for me to emulate.<br />And all these years passed by, and I felt nothing change.<br />I still wasn't "perfect".<br /><br />So here I am, after all these years, drawing a line between you and me.<br /></div></div>EMi.http://www.blogger.com/profile/13697586455412723409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5309821410041607737.post-30446426197594097422010-08-03T00:59:00.000-07:002010-08-03T01:34:30.516-07:00::milk + honey.::<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHBhU6OmPU30glZ8qmSNjnHsyTyxZsdFwrPB1zvaww43OHRh8-2SX5uXbNHK7sN9cr44vFrvBLAJG2yRCEvbR8ON9JjCpE7tDmju9MWzzNFJa56nxa_J07ultbTQxB0iAQutrpWPmRer3x/s1600/tumblr_kunbz7KDuY1qzl2d1o1_500.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHBhU6OmPU30glZ8qmSNjnHsyTyxZsdFwrPB1zvaww43OHRh8-2SX5uXbNHK7sN9cr44vFrvBLAJG2yRCEvbR8ON9JjCpE7tDmju9MWzzNFJa56nxa_J07ultbTQxB0iAQutrpWPmRer3x/s320/tumblr_kunbz7KDuY1qzl2d1o1_500.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501091635149553250" border="0" /></a><br />Bad relationships. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHBhU6OmPU30glZ8qmSNjnHsyTyxZsdFwrPB1zvaww43OHRh8-2SX5uXbNHK7sN9cr44vFrvBLAJG2yRCEvbR8ON9JjCpE7tDmju9MWzzNFJa56nxa_J07ultbTQxB0iAQutrpWPmRer3x/s1600/tumblr_kunbz7KDuY1qzl2d1o1_500.jpg">≠</a> Mistakes.<br />We all go through some at one point of our lives. And if you don't, you should consider yourself extremely lucky, fortunate, blessed, and everything else on the list. I can quite honestly admit that I've gone through a couple myself; including the stumbles within the good relationships I've had as well. But in all honesty, I am thankful that I have been strong enough to break off of relationships that started tumbling down. I've a had a number of people around me who were verbally/morally/physically abused by their significant other, yet didn't have the courage, conscience, strength, or what ever it takes to break away from vicious cycles such as abusive relationships.<br /><br />What I've learned (in some cases, in the most difficult ways) in the past few years is that there is no way one can love another without loving themselves first. As narcissistic as this sounds, it's very true, too. As much as it sounds extremely easy to do so, it really isn't quite so. When it comes to myself, it took a good time for me to accept who I am. Quite frankly, even sometimes today, I have some difficulties accepting what I am. And sometimes I used to hide in the shadows of my significant other, simply because that was more comfortable than facing myself. Times have passed, I've learned my lessons, and most importantly, I am far more comfortable in my skin.<br /><br />As I sat in the passenger seat of my friend's car, and spoke out my heart, I felt tears dripping down my face again. We've ran away from reality too long, and never spent the time we needed to spend to dissolve the knots that happened between us. In stead, I wanted out, and called it quits, before doing what had to be undone. Suddenly I felt as if the huge ditch that was between us being buried away. We kept running away from what we had to face just so we could be comfortable, and get on with life. Now with our hearts out, we could look each other in the eye and speak our true emotions. That was exactly what I was looking for.EMi.http://www.blogger.com/profile/13697586455412723409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5309821410041607737.post-24568041691306111072010-08-01T01:23:00.000-07:002010-08-01T01:47:00.945-07:00::F.M. Doll::<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigSQhGxWgYdt9QPp-WeYOgmadZUVsvUrFN5anmtP9f6OJJWAY_43Tqe83_Du7bX_kdDc2u1uGn_WGIq2lYk5uCkyMnwbfMtB4p-KWLhfR47BqLukcIVO5gOTpaP16d3x0j8HJTm-8zHos1/s1600/img_5406-edit-copy-2_1-copy.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigSQhGxWgYdt9QPp-WeYOgmadZUVsvUrFN5anmtP9f6OJJWAY_43Tqe83_Du7bX_kdDc2u1uGn_WGIq2lYk5uCkyMnwbfMtB4p-KWLhfR47BqLukcIVO5gOTpaP16d3x0j8HJTm-8zHos1/s320/img_5406-edit-copy-2_1-copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500354771116175074" border="0" /></a>I'm starting to receive photographs from the amazing <a href="http://www.hakanphotography.com/">Akif Hakan Celebi.</a><br />We had a shoot a couple weeks ago, and I was anxiously waiting for the outcome of our shoot. A good 19GB worth (!) of photos were taken that day, and he had told me I had done a good job.<br /><br />And here they are.<br />I was lost for words when I first saw how the shots came out. I have been a fan of his work for some time now. And now here I was, becoming a part of his work. As weird as it seemed, I also felt very fulfilled and proud. And at the same time, I feel as if the girl in the photograph isn't me. The reason why I've been a fan of Akif's work is how he depicts girl in their own environment (=bedroom, specifically) and element, yet filters their "world" through his filter and creates a entirely new "world". When looking at the photographs, it almost feels as if the girls are luring you into their words, as if they are inviting you to be a part of their world. In some photos, the girls look so apathetic, so disconnected; yet, they speak so strongly to their audience.<br /><br />And here I am.<br />Experiencing the role of the "girl" in the photograph, inside her element, safely inside her "world". And when people see it, what do they think? What do they feel? Do they get to have a "glimpse" of me, just like when I look at the other girls?<br /><br />In a sense, I almost feel like I'm not the girl in this photograph.EMi.http://www.blogger.com/profile/13697586455412723409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5309821410041607737.post-43346395850083617682010-07-30T21:43:00.000-07:002010-07-30T21:46:50.071-07:00::Beloved Yoko::<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK5cbYQ5JtoycT_9mi9VkyPu092ZwIKieXySDBN9FHYnaYNgPVZq05QysdB7hWm9EbXJCRUENLJqLwx1Wg__fIMBNK_pPModduqPj8RVBs7uJSveELry61o9B0A8ReftpgIGz09s6gryxw/s1600/Yoko+Ono+yoko.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 261px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK5cbYQ5JtoycT_9mi9VkyPu092ZwIKieXySDBN9FHYnaYNgPVZq05QysdB7hWm9EbXJCRUENLJqLwx1Wg__fIMBNK_pPModduqPj8RVBs7uJSveELry61o9B0A8ReftpgIGz09s6gryxw/s320/Yoko+Ono+yoko.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499927225878067170" border="0" /></a><br /><span class="status-body"><span class="status-content"><span class="actions"><div> </div></span></span></span><br /><span class="status-body"><span class="status-content"><span class="actions"><div><a id="status_star_19832200636" class="fav-action non-fav" title="ツイートをお気に入りに登録"> </a> </div></span> <span class="entry-content">"Understand, Love, Forgive and Embrace."</span></span></span></div>EMi.http://www.blogger.com/profile/13697586455412723409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5309821410041607737.post-9533843619428308612010-07-27T14:58:00.000-07:002010-07-27T22:34:18.792-07:00The past six days of my life have been emotionally turbulent, ranging from insecurity, absolute happiness, emptiness, loneliness, detachment, clinging, ecstasy... At the same time, I almost feel as if I've been drained of every last tear drop I had.EMi.http://www.blogger.com/profile/13697586455412723409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5309821410041607737.post-53205264103680385532010-07-25T19:50:00.000-07:002010-07-25T20:14:45.824-07:00::Comi-Con-Con!::I've been in San Diego since Wednesday for... you know... COMIC CON!<br />...Needless to say I've been having loads, actually, too much fun.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitZE5FgvHI6Fx4yp3zP2MNvMvfVOsz9H9WX8TOW7HCXA4-4fFDoaQJqfD4mL2Zu2oC53t1Q3SrP4T7B08ep0eu0iYUZyxAi5zad0tq9MjKbVb6vL7stll1HqSD0X9BaCGCQLRim1vfeGYj/s1600/DSCF3616.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitZE5FgvHI6Fx4yp3zP2MNvMvfVOsz9H9WX8TOW7HCXA4-4fFDoaQJqfD4mL2Zu2oC53t1Q3SrP4T7B08ep0eu0iYUZyxAi5zad0tq9MjKbVb6vL7stll1HqSD0X9BaCGCQLRim1vfeGYj/s320/DSCF3616.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498047015397620914" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih7xuDw9ZZZcf_S-IKLy5ZXRJLB2o-x2C_hJQWGzlgO5_1ZTcIEWorFDwt1kFM8hGDkeUsSodcFczY5ewc5zqam4mjIL9pSoXp5ozMGBNSZHVyIrP1H9MIQ3DWlo_KD9Y49N4mzkhzJRHW/s1600/DSCF3626.JPG"><img style="float: left; 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margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1WY7fuImyL6Lk45o-TPXQrOEy1x8myK2sRlBCbT8lV-XbMjbR2N2HAEcJCmALafxDbrvce0UflY5jG_oynQ-yPctGBtDu2ojqJbgLgugSXTjUVJm9K0zytAQtHVP6-lmqigysMZmaMLtP/s320/DSCF3655.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498046611210626994" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3_wH9xF2njuAzCaqnIf7L7QTfp9EikxgE2MHKWUf2c9lfbZMJN0bnlMEYvo4FcP0XYWWkRA8hnR0uIlHBZ-YUXgYqKZ2fZkk5vr2z6xH0l6Zp0Becld2UJbZyAqfmjuh5Eh_77bOTnbUH/s1600/DSCF3684.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3_wH9xF2njuAzCaqnIf7L7QTfp9EikxgE2MHKWUf2c9lfbZMJN0bnlMEYvo4FcP0XYWWkRA8hnR0uIlHBZ-YUXgYqKZ2fZkk5vr2z6xH0l6Zp0Becld2UJbZyAqfmjuh5Eh_77bOTnbUH/s320/DSCF3684.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498046609566795778" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0URtK1_KYZijwoD99zMY63ctf0hWk5CXSmLoeRKXWOdI7SOHoX8ZKgeMmNcUvW6ySa9UtfK-lH_p2YCZLYEg8GND8eE2rO_0-SMMlATrHbferfti2_xb6OQmHXWgSAwABS6En8EKQIc_2/s1600/DSCF3687.jpg"><img style="float: left; 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margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDqsIC8Wwp5rSDrIOEr7YnOtk-WOUqK7zvAXYQXJjPwH2MbSQg6c8mUmx9dDyqY77goAh6OqeQj0faMAs4vS847tZyqC13w4H4KtTduVlUmjrJVNjMeouom9bcBOOlYHied0zOAlJwiROD/s320/DSCF3807.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498044091997309026" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPoAmAYyzRNb_TMugXxh9bXG1evPxSza24CYSmDFxO2H_OPmWbVbdRs5FYeQeUCbadNQYhPOnZ846jYaKZM7_BrdU-DVf26TLs2AE5NjZPm6nM7aYRKGp4wD4VuKeWQFU4adIPPnKo4h88/s1600/DSCF3816.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPoAmAYyzRNb_TMugXxh9bXG1evPxSza24CYSmDFxO2H_OPmWbVbdRs5FYeQeUCbadNQYhPOnZ846jYaKZM7_BrdU-DVf26TLs2AE5NjZPm6nM7aYRKGp4wD4VuKeWQFU4adIPPnKo4h88/s320/DSCF3816.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498044081197463746" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhABK10n4yQ8Nzi_igXbFLXwtw7-TqpRePlHV2VzwyfRZ2KZCRgNh_m5gS1_LE-ORYM2_cdNt_rLvtw0L8lXuwdH1zps18UhbCa9VsZzvf9aeQX4V1RxBzEzrDvXPEdTj3o3OMRsQLA-qb_/s1600/DSCF3828.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhABK10n4yQ8Nzi_igXbFLXwtw7-TqpRePlHV2VzwyfRZ2KZCRgNh_m5gS1_LE-ORYM2_cdNt_rLvtw0L8lXuwdH1zps18UhbCa9VsZzvf9aeQX4V1RxBzEzrDvXPEdTj3o3OMRsQLA-qb_/s320/DSCF3828.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498044078371709330" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Today was the last day, and the last day of Comic Con always makes me kinda sad. It almost feels like summer is over, although I have a little more than a month of summer vacation left. Or rather, the fact that I have to leave San Diego and my amazing friends, that makes me a little sad.<br /><br />Tonight:: Off to yakyuudori with Akirawwrrr!<3EMi.http://www.blogger.com/profile/13697586455412723409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5309821410041607737.post-14723921891927550162010-07-20T01:05:00.000-07:002010-07-20T01:22:28.035-07:00::Cry Baby::<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0MF0o-PtAcWLgP4wr7QsQekfqIp864Mn6adDROIqvQuLNbfotXM0Zb1Dwdvq3560YYX4fh1ntKULxLLp2cST5hswwgifnBNcygb1I9bPsaFpL5Yp4jyfbdZNlpiufevUtYFWVNdqXRJu-/s1600/%E5%90%8D%E7%A7%B0%E6%9C%AA%E8%A8%AD%E5%AE%9A.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 243px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0MF0o-PtAcWLgP4wr7QsQekfqIp864Mn6adDROIqvQuLNbfotXM0Zb1Dwdvq3560YYX4fh1ntKULxLLp2cST5hswwgifnBNcygb1I9bPsaFpL5Yp4jyfbdZNlpiufevUtYFWVNdqXRJu-/s320/%E5%90%8D%E7%A7%B0%E6%9C%AA%E8%A8%AD%E5%AE%9A.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495900865971349522" /></a><br /><br />I'm often known as, or referred to, a more tough chick that can take anything and manage it pretty well. Or in more unfortunate cases, a callous, heartless bitch that doesn't give a fuck about other people. And I think I play that role pretty well. = I do a pretty good job acting and pretending as if everything is okay when things are pretty much going down the well. In all honesty, I feel like I'm the biggest cry baby ever. When I'm alone, and only when I'm in front of friends I can truly trust.<br /><br />Today I saw one of my dear friends for the first time in a while (Fuck busy schedules). The whole time, although it was a matter of minutes, I was trying so hard to hold my tears back in. If I weren't in such a public place, I would probably started bawling like a crazy baby. There's been so many times I borrowed his shoulder and cried and cried and cried until I didn't have the energy to cry any more, and he'd tuck me into bed and wish me sweet dreams. For some reason that I can't specify, I feel as if I can break down all my walls and just let emotions take over, or rather, trust him as someone to lean on when I feel weak and miserable. I've come across too many people that take advantage of your weaknesses, that I don't allow myself to be "weak" in front of others. I almost feel as if my value would fall down drastically if I were to just allow myself to cry in front of other people. But it's different when I'm in front of the friends that I trust. <br /><br />I should probably appreciate the fact that I have someone in my life that I can trust to such degree.<br /><br /><br /><br />On a happier note, this is a cheesy yet heart warming song for me at the moment::<br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-fmg_OYn6IA&hl=ja_JP&fs=1?color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-fmg_OYn6IA&hl=ja_JP&fs=1?color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>EMi.http://www.blogger.com/profile/13697586455412723409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5309821410041607737.post-56131295535241982622010-07-18T23:31:00.000-07:002010-07-18T23:36:33.221-07:00::Phone!Phone!::<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPZW0e9D_qd9HgZNScVSz7bAjgOITlFjtvs54US_RXkpfzdDqLFys8Gg7oaBBawsukipHlaWJs3YE5Lf27W_kbWke-BNfP4VTWEfVhXSqeio8dG9dEEK4Roe0vaxVn9K9q08nCK_zzyezQ/s1600/phoneboothcover.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 206px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPZW0e9D_qd9HgZNScVSz7bAjgOITlFjtvs54US_RXkpfzdDqLFys8Gg7oaBBawsukipHlaWJs3YE5Lf27W_kbWke-BNfP4VTWEfVhXSqeio8dG9dEEK4Roe0vaxVn9K9q08nCK_zzyezQ/s400/phoneboothcover.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495502517961201874" /></a><br />I am horrible at picking up calls, returning missed calls, checking texts, and answering them. I hate owning a phone so much, that I never add minutes to my prepaid mobile phone. I know, it's horrible. And extremely unprofessional, depending on what.<br /><br />That said... <br />I am also horrible at dealing with people that don't answer/return my calls and texts. I will hysterically keep on calling like a stalker, text non-stop, and worst case, I will e-mail you to tell you to pick up your phone. Yes, I couldn't argue if anyone wanted to label me as a stalker. <br /><br />And currently I suffer from that problem. Comic Con is coming right up, and I can't get a hold of my friend in San Diego. This is horrible. I am going to cry, and my sacrificial pick-up-your-phone-god damnit dance is not working. At all.EMi.http://www.blogger.com/profile/13697586455412723409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5309821410041607737.post-6375314141723494722010-07-17T22:38:00.000-07:002010-07-17T23:22:52.751-07:00::Now please, suck my dick.::<object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WIXg9KUiy00&hl=ja_JP&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/WIXg9KUiy00&hl=ja_JP&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br />Regrets? I've had a few...<br />...I did, what I had to do!<br />...I did it myyyyy waaaaayyy!<br /><br />I know Sid isn't responsible for the original but who cares (I certainly don't).<br />I can relate to and empathize with Sid's unbelievably horrible vocal skills and stage performance. (In other words, who could possibly suck so badly? No one. Now, that is what you call talent)<br /><br />For the first time in years, I feel like I'm communicating "normally" with my dad, maybe taking the first steps of reestablishing a decent relationship as a father and a daughter for the first time in years. Ironically, this probably only happened due to my parents' divorce, and I'm finding it more and more difficult to handle my mother's blunder of emotions being thrown at my face. I know I'm selfish, and I should probably be the bigger person and understand what she's going through, and try to help her out. But at the same time, I have more than enough on my plate. I have enough emotions myself to process, I have enough thoughts that I have to organize, and most of all, I have so many things I have to accept as reality. A close friend of mine told me to be "understanding"; and I believe I've passed that stage. It was difficult, and it was definitely not the easiest things I've done. I know we're "family" no matter what, and that our "family" bond wasn't strong as I wished to be from the start, but now it almost feels like everything has shattered. Deep inside I felt like I was going to be able to handle my parents' divorce like I can over come a little pebble that trips me on the way to a bigger picture. Wrong. For all I know, maybe I'm being a little immature. I don't know. I tried talking to my dad about it, who knows, he might actually have a decent conversation with me, maybe not. It's all still up in the air. ...I'm just going to take a break with my mother though, yelling at each other on the phone is clearly not productive, nor do I want to fight over emails. It's just a huge crash of egos and "But I'm feeling this" "No listen to me, I'm feeling that" at the moment, and I've already had more than enough. I attempted to ask her to call me another time, but all she could do was yell right back at me, and I had no choice but to hang up. I couldn't take any more.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh8Ek-xFImYdRFQxxZool76wTNOWSZiEgjVERXWPdgcnnKuK1iQ9CebPyY6tCR29KJxFgakA_ldnBglrosMkKqyB4f-EGkmFEGxOW_xv5tqHmDB6SQliYKgmzWMSX-75FlD3H7mYTfikPK/s1600/cagetattoo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 332px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh8Ek-xFImYdRFQxxZool76wTNOWSZiEgjVERXWPdgcnnKuK1iQ9CebPyY6tCR29KJxFgakA_ldnBglrosMkKqyB4f-EGkmFEGxOW_xv5tqHmDB6SQliYKgmzWMSX-75FlD3H7mYTfikPK/s400/cagetattoo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495120593809528642" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmZN6L4MCTv_rUxgrfhP8M-RPQig0Kf0dmFPSzA26Wd2x731Rba8I4e8O5zgwq3qI90vsQ5jrGPMjy-EXq7o-wGPuMOtwCOO1jpXfPUGHcJWn3xrW9QdaqiOfv_6cCuIkyZbtXS93cgZwN/s1600/birdcage-tattoo-109388.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmZN6L4MCTv_rUxgrfhP8M-RPQig0Kf0dmFPSzA26Wd2x731Rba8I4e8O5zgwq3qI90vsQ5jrGPMjy-EXq7o-wGPuMOtwCOO1jpXfPUGHcJWn3xrW9QdaqiOfv_6cCuIkyZbtXS93cgZwN/s400/birdcage-tattoo-109388.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495120579107946498" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPjW1i_0vfgy0GrCeBp6jD22-oozwwMAlFkih5yCIXkYDxpGm81iPwS7xcv3FY4KPfnzBe0PcvRMrRXbN3VM0pOJx9fDTpj8APndbBeJQADPZMYEciyt9YWE1DlCmt-SjWMnZmWO9IHZj6/s1600/birdcage_web.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPjW1i_0vfgy0GrCeBp6jD22-oozwwMAlFkih5yCIXkYDxpGm81iPwS7xcv3FY4KPfnzBe0PcvRMrRXbN3VM0pOJx9fDTpj8APndbBeJQADPZMYEciyt9YWE1DlCmt-SjWMnZmWO9IHZj6/s400/birdcage_web.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495120571802726514" /></a><br />Most of the future tattoos I want at the moment are related to literature in one way or another. I am yet to embark on my "蜘蛛の糸" (Kumo no Ito, written by Akutagawa Ryunosuke)-inspired tattoo, and now I feel like a birdcage tattoo based on one of my favorite poems by William Blake is fitting to the situation that I'm in at the moment, as well as what I've been in the past couple years.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />"How can the bird that is born for joy<br />Sit in a cage and sing?<br />How can a child when fears annoy<br />But droop his tender wing,<br />And forget his youthful spring?"</span><br />-"The Schoolboy", William Blake<br /><br />Such a beautiful poem, and so inspiring. Blake is my favorite poet by far, and I have always been attracted to the image of a bird flying out of an birdcage. In a sense, in the past couple years, I have constantly been forcing myself out of my own cage; coming to Los Angeles was breaking away from my "cage" that was my home, ending a relationship that meant so much to me and brought so many positive changes to my life- that was a true escape from a "cage", and deciding to switch majors, that was in a sense, move from a "cage" as well. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirb5PSINt_T-zA_s6_Ubhkxso0KT5zyfQAAcqTC61jLiLuDorYSMSbmuaHZqGPHuPUaQD9v7tuOwC7lylqdtx7rgoAIRbUa9-lwRmIyuBJfzbeT4H8B1_TvUBdnrQauoPtoFA7CTjt45MF/s1600/tumblr_kvfx4bhZTf1qaczzqo1_500.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirb5PSINt_T-zA_s6_Ubhkxso0KT5zyfQAAcqTC61jLiLuDorYSMSbmuaHZqGPHuPUaQD9v7tuOwC7lylqdtx7rgoAIRbUa9-lwRmIyuBJfzbeT4H8B1_TvUBdnrQauoPtoFA7CTjt45MF/s400/tumblr_kvfx4bhZTf1qaczzqo1_500.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495125450719815874" /></a><br />I also adore anchor tattoos, and am trying to get my friend to tattoo one on me. It's going to be a homage to my hometown. <3EMi.http://www.blogger.com/profile/13697586455412723409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5309821410041607737.post-28936646595927205972010-07-14T00:52:00.000-07:002010-07-14T01:03:19.938-07:00::BOW WOW WOW!::<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiEsyBbtVOSpTqjI-f_SU1b0XcNFi0sxcXeK6ZdJC8dPaSNj-xnke9LObquEYti0VOFoY4yTNhS-Cvn1xIxPGZITbXydeg8xVMTqE4LkRwyh7ZlBDjetuHZoPigP1bsf517VhLRJhvcFli/s1600/Marie_Antoinette+d.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 387px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiEsyBbtVOSpTqjI-f_SU1b0XcNFi0sxcXeK6ZdJC8dPaSNj-xnke9LObquEYti0VOFoY4yTNhS-Cvn1xIxPGZITbXydeg8xVMTqE4LkRwyh7ZlBDjetuHZoPigP1bsf517VhLRJhvcFli/s400/Marie_Antoinette+d.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493669358257003298" /></a><br />After taking a good listen to the "Marie Antoinette" (dir. Sofia Coppola),<br />I have become a fan of BOW WOW WOW, Annabella Lwin in particular. I have never heard any girl at the age of 14 with a hysteric, sexy, sultry voice.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiasVo_0XK9rMtc1ujIS4zNQKVHbo-_QTGqz0Kr2_8zQaxgCNlkHJU6sDVDPM_haB1yZI-QUovU5Vk6rWg4tAyuCOwnsvlxOSSBiVePOEw2hWKUFfpY5uFHU4_hGmpfnOaEoRHZBkWJvDeR/s1600/Picture+355.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiasVo_0XK9rMtc1ujIS4zNQKVHbo-_QTGqz0Kr2_8zQaxgCNlkHJU6sDVDPM_haB1yZI-QUovU5Vk6rWg4tAyuCOwnsvlxOSSBiVePOEw2hWKUFfpY5uFHU4_hGmpfnOaEoRHZBkWJvDeR/s400/Picture+355.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493668219149297938" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAx9Qn5sG0XxBJTAlzMK3YY6o15ph-rt5QeGm16_ouGqqGg2JkhDGLJ61A3gNffsYASVOGJY4coaeEAtpT2zcee92dmSpsuzpmHWLzyTpynuyqVGCzoxWiWnpd98O9q7F4lo6kxHYKpIz9/s1600/901cl_annabella_lwin_color-stool.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 375px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAx9Qn5sG0XxBJTAlzMK3YY6o15ph-rt5QeGm16_ouGqqGg2JkhDGLJ61A3gNffsYASVOGJY4coaeEAtpT2zcee92dmSpsuzpmHWLzyTpynuyqVGCzoxWiWnpd98O9q7F4lo6kxHYKpIz9/s400/901cl_annabella_lwin_color-stool.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493668210094693858" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw5RPxdzzn5okHqZ5D8veDdK36wys81fBZM0lFkI1p9BwKU4ljp4C3hlevjdTHCHXKf8s0aUvmQ5Iwo5bj0JvjccxGm77AOxamsje9LdRfoHGR04GS7y43uQ3irR4wc9cCiC-R320BB59f/s1600/Annabella+Lwin+00AnnabellaLwin.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw5RPxdzzn5okHqZ5D8veDdK36wys81fBZM0lFkI1p9BwKU4ljp4C3hlevjdTHCHXKf8s0aUvmQ5Iwo5bj0JvjccxGm77AOxamsje9LdRfoHGR04GS7y43uQ3irR4wc9cCiC-R320BB59f/s400/Annabella+Lwin+00AnnabellaLwin.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493668208054467682" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6oVmm32LUbIEgklI64WTAF0hz37pahyeyiUDOb060fD0-r7jyovCxrSpEM4kAAed9pVtKYUgRklPGNGYiZN-j9KZjXX7ugWo41a5huRbJsMtQdJjhhY9Z4fxJyIu_aEX2D8HECd2KqTKm/s1600/annabella_lwin001.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 205px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6oVmm32LUbIEgklI64WTAF0hz37pahyeyiUDOb060fD0-r7jyovCxrSpEM4kAAed9pVtKYUgRklPGNGYiZN-j9KZjXX7ugWo41a5huRbJsMtQdJjhhY9Z4fxJyIu_aEX2D8HECd2KqTKm/s400/annabella_lwin001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493668201795547394" /></a><br /><br />She's making me want to shave the sides of my head again. This is bad.<br />I also want to be clothed by Vivienne Westwood like Annabelle was. ...No?EMi.http://www.blogger.com/profile/13697586455412723409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5309821410041607737.post-90445331947684963992010-07-12T00:48:00.001-07:002010-07-12T01:16:04.405-07:00::San Francisco::I got back from my road trip to San Francisco [2 days earlier than expected].<br />I guess we got through everything we wanted to in a shorter time span than expected, so we wrapped things up, packed up, returned keys, and here I am, back in Angel City. <br /><br />Highlights::<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikRH7ZqETp2cXL_B120R-pKu_tFRzUWmMzzyncOHGmWyChCHe3IPTRGKP1LQ_rxcmxP9HgrVXIYXERfHX0spYTxqzxlC8BpH5NNpYfROVAwJsmsRz7oyQ2fDLCXNpob1wIADSqxdJzYmzb/s1600/DSCF3251.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikRH7ZqETp2cXL_B120R-pKu_tFRzUWmMzzyncOHGmWyChCHe3IPTRGKP1LQ_rxcmxP9HgrVXIYXERfHX0spYTxqzxlC8BpH5NNpYfROVAwJsmsRz7oyQ2fDLCXNpob1wIADSqxdJzYmzb/s400/DSCF3251.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492923798734031362" /></a><br />(l to r: Ian and Sho)<br />We get pulled over. A little past Valencia. What the hell. The boys got ticketed too. A great way to start a road trip. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0s_jQ0ZnHzcB0360UpAngBf54PJy2-VGoaFh6Fa7_XuIYGNQ0imDvwfJzAChZd6t6jJLufgFcvrmr5qxtQOswAEszE_G-dw3itu9VqdKtEtsDNEYWQ5iM-SlaQZ7JqubP4L-pl1l4N5mL/s1600/DSCF3269.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0s_jQ0ZnHzcB0360UpAngBf54PJy2-VGoaFh6Fa7_XuIYGNQ0imDvwfJzAChZd6t6jJLufgFcvrmr5qxtQOswAEszE_G-dw3itu9VqdKtEtsDNEYWQ5iM-SlaQZ7JqubP4L-pl1l4N5mL/s400/DSCF3269.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492924117090534354" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrWreSSmmGwXzwM_OZk6azbBMbRMDko-78JAcfWN2aH8x9tCueOaw-E6lYiwZNFoZ56WCou8s9bd3vM41Twpig7WQn9kqwrjZW_yGJDdBYsQgfprh4LpNT9GKtUHoPKx5gyiZdnZazAsZz/s1600/DSCF3267.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrWreSSmmGwXzwM_OZk6azbBMbRMDko-78JAcfWN2aH8x9tCueOaw-E6lYiwZNFoZ56WCou8s9bd3vM41Twpig7WQn9kqwrjZW_yGJDdBYsQgfprh4LpNT9GKtUHoPKx5gyiZdnZazAsZz/s400/DSCF3267.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492924112118205426" /></a><br />Into the city!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD0EKUl4esOJEt3-EYNVGJHEzKanHplWi0NDI0Nq-BIXUsv7Ia9kRS4oRSu1RRSUrAuuxJbkMgQkhojG5IJgug7hGy2HuNaU4-a5U5CLnsqNIY7jnJGJmxgno5KwEoNHF-SKFTRoCFgLi7/s1600/DSCF3332.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD0EKUl4esOJEt3-EYNVGJHEzKanHplWi0NDI0Nq-BIXUsv7Ia9kRS4oRSu1RRSUrAuuxJbkMgQkhojG5IJgug7hGy2HuNaU4-a5U5CLnsqNIY7jnJGJmxgno5KwEoNHF-SKFTRoCFgLi7/s400/DSCF3332.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492924516760640018" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigNc9plxlFhWvHuSSjbCO1J5fR9ldJE2OGQE0xvMKVkI_99sJnK3jy90uck6OAIvKyo0SJI6de0PvWaCkJrZ_0ihZ69DIeaPdZwsO7Pp5hG4WxbA0GSDFXbmu7FVkoHxnro-o_sv_9H3UO/s1600/DSCF3309.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigNc9plxlFhWvHuSSjbCO1J5fR9ldJE2OGQE0xvMKVkI_99sJnK3jy90uck6OAIvKyo0SJI6de0PvWaCkJrZ_0ihZ69DIeaPdZwsO7Pp5hG4WxbA0GSDFXbmu7FVkoHxnro-o_sv_9H3UO/s400/DSCF3309.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492924513263256226" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidNjSKHKPDOBrfFeI5TKPSPDjorFM5P2owAnbJX1UgqmM4cZXjxeZx3czpnLq3DgYB5RSmwIyQkMYbpeS62G6ZdcDiRihiDwUnW0LoMoxZgwRMoRI6mhbHut6siAl5R96EtCFOV89vbLqe/s1600/DSCF3317.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidNjSKHKPDOBrfFeI5TKPSPDjorFM5P2owAnbJX1UgqmM4cZXjxeZx3czpnLq3DgYB5RSmwIyQkMYbpeS62G6ZdcDiRihiDwUnW0LoMoxZgwRMoRI6mhbHut6siAl5R96EtCFOV89vbLqe/s400/DSCF3317.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492924504402384082" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCk9X8d0Sc3fS-eu-b9MQ6t398CdT6OeouFMUuMoQOebLZpTtjKvqR9X2ZAA6DhHMD1rU3awjoI3RSI_xYqfPAgn6OF9unwWdlxhZtOl2uNJUIF3UvO5uNMdH_NbbtRh85l_MrEIwsDidl/s1600/DSCF3288.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCk9X8d0Sc3fS-eu-b9MQ6t398CdT6OeouFMUuMoQOebLZpTtjKvqR9X2ZAA6DhHMD1rU3awjoI3RSI_xYqfPAgn6OF9unwWdlxhZtOl2uNJUIF3UvO5uNMdH_NbbtRh85l_MrEIwsDidl/s400/DSCF3288.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492924499238390770" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLjVyX8IjWPkDe4YjyaS9bWetDNtpTenC5DZdMgpuHxNKQ4eWXodRnYhgcWMfWzbaP0Vru0k-hBNx6TO36IbWEds7jUCULX84HLf7myMlAo83HG6VC43HemUBoIqZ7Enyu5OAVLBdn_CQt/s1600/DSCF3273.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLjVyX8IjWPkDe4YjyaS9bWetDNtpTenC5DZdMgpuHxNKQ4eWXodRnYhgcWMfWzbaP0Vru0k-hBNx6TO36IbWEds7jUCULX84HLf7myMlAo83HG6VC43HemUBoIqZ7Enyu5OAVLBdn_CQt/s400/DSCF3273.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492924489891046466" /></a><br />Amazing art, every where you go.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRwAEqtraM8l8QRYoL1Ooft7o2LdAKLXm7skmLIExPG-nds1x_T1nXwFX_2ssCChi_ORW3NmQEbEgAUeXeLHC-MgES12NvwAzMWvcsuvi0xrNswx-gS_p4orB4LwJfyIqpqYDVGLQndZj4/s1600/DSCF3361.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRwAEqtraM8l8QRYoL1Ooft7o2LdAKLXm7skmLIExPG-nds1x_T1nXwFX_2ssCChi_ORW3NmQEbEgAUeXeLHC-MgES12NvwAzMWvcsuvi0xrNswx-gS_p4orB4LwJfyIqpqYDVGLQndZj4/s400/DSCF3361.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492925051924628082" /></a><br />After walking around SFMOCA for a while, I noticed that I've been wearing my Docs every where I go... They've traveled with me from Los Angeles, Paris, San Diego, Tokyo, Yokohama, and now San Francisco. My goal is to wear them to every place I travel. Hopefully London will be the next to add to my list!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6REw3HZsWTnznPbTOw3u_KUByfRbV0pq5oOyRrkPkVse7yEJ-tOeSGl2grA96mCBgNW7Q4GXPnPhAvdgKZD5j93SutCYIFp8wpZCp8bDurRrImRYdhO5CdV5Ii2fzWnPxjCbI3oqYF105/s1600/DSCF3372.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6REw3HZsWTnznPbTOw3u_KUByfRbV0pq5oOyRrkPkVse7yEJ-tOeSGl2grA96mCBgNW7Q4GXPnPhAvdgKZD5j93SutCYIFp8wpZCp8bDurRrImRYdhO5CdV5Ii2fzWnPxjCbI3oqYF105/s400/DSCF3372.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492925568134060434" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ZFs_BofASP6lheZ9mi4s_5xXtiPvHj11VC1AlgQy_ljtQi9Ax726lGfJuS_QgJthv20VldZeL9rAySiCWk7eOJWw9abdju8QnJ248sb3QvfXsiCpiJAwS0EnLQKkI5HcVWYEdEyfYeIh/s1600/DSCF3371.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ZFs_BofASP6lheZ9mi4s_5xXtiPvHj11VC1AlgQy_ljtQi9Ax726lGfJuS_QgJthv20VldZeL9rAySiCWk7eOJWw9abdju8QnJ248sb3QvfXsiCpiJAwS0EnLQKkI5HcVWYEdEyfYeIh/s400/DSCF3371.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492925563050534754" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT5EvRAsIRkTyBLPCTIyDWfzBsuwvD7vCYeX3E4hjCRMGWNUTz1X2iXkyihuDgpvZsIaNeB7kQKLQLcIEFGksAOrYVjZ8gNqDBDh6uUkBv71f1fP_qV3Sk3OrBQuHJUcndLVIgFqi8fPyG/s1600/DSCF3369.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT5EvRAsIRkTyBLPCTIyDWfzBsuwvD7vCYeX3E4hjCRMGWNUTz1X2iXkyihuDgpvZsIaNeB7kQKLQLcIEFGksAOrYVjZ8gNqDBDh6uUkBv71f1fP_qV3Sk3OrBQuHJUcndLVIgFqi8fPyG/s400/DSCF3369.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492925559599966386" /></a><br />Work by Bruce Nauman. (An excellent example of incorporating language into art)<br />I'm inspired to/interested in experimenting with neon lights now. Probably going to be $$$ to do, but possibly for some future project when $ and time isn't a problem.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnOQoLKWn_83IdR3sN8zfgEQsVi5AjfOgx4F1-7RlYgAeXOYQCkQd3AR5mukmWVXVoI1z_V6fGk7Whox9WJCW1TH3xytvt32jmcoWsfSP6ahbI7FaU3kNP4NZGdZ5YfpyYIPhCjWLlHdMR/s1600/DSCF3379.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnOQoLKWn_83IdR3sN8zfgEQsVi5AjfOgx4F1-7RlYgAeXOYQCkQd3AR5mukmWVXVoI1z_V6fGk7Whox9WJCW1TH3xytvt32jmcoWsfSP6ahbI7FaU3kNP4NZGdZ5YfpyYIPhCjWLlHdMR/s400/DSCF3379.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492926058878857010" /></a><br />Work by Louise Bourgeoise.<br />You are being missed.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikKa5bmHm6yO0pnIieNhSKLM5Xr_qbt0D2_IyTEo6Og6SgoS7uP03liB6hT9tQXEuX-vsamVbXcY3W3i4ThHIF_-onYIu_9gOI-fgeccryYBD0pFNwXWkmQ7s6W0P07p4hr42T1zqqeLin/s1600/DSCF3445.JPG"><img style="display:block; 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margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq7S5L8pWEHO8sr_Uagc6d3erJUyLsGoeGRBEvPtV_Nftrhgndok6Ch_YLYElP5Cycl4CwMV_m7qQH8ixWmh81Cj6XWRJVWlz5xPtYPGrW3ylKS_zhvhGqHbpNsFtohvGPJMxPVJPOlZm9/s400/DSCF3420.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492926448132217250" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJpvp5vOP6fFwUkf5uz4ALhAVBoLuATNpaZLnFhMoNjLxQ_W00l1ojlb84rja0nQvTXKkT8kRcQtl6NoXJe8E_lzhDSTrO58cbSWAUcjJzXFS5KuT_dT5JUhUVm7JADXEOC48Guqbf-iaO/s1600/DSCF3414.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJpvp5vOP6fFwUkf5uz4ALhAVBoLuATNpaZLnFhMoNjLxQ_W00l1ojlb84rja0nQvTXKkT8kRcQtl6NoXJe8E_lzhDSTrO58cbSWAUcjJzXFS5KuT_dT5JUhUVm7JADXEOC48Guqbf-iaO/s400/DSCF3414.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492926437786851634" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6rfsUfHZOhCxMk4Bo7Sk4vFHnbIlh6szDx3JlLtkak1Ual-FyCE9ETErzCkdtg-7EKUho8szCUbaXtap4Gvu01BBX5fKEeehottflujZpxblt60aUqMwRh_TAMpYgV6EHyd3s8guF5zqp/s1600/DSCF3409.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6rfsUfHZOhCxMk4Bo7Sk4vFHnbIlh6szDx3JlLtkak1Ual-FyCE9ETErzCkdtg-7EKUho8szCUbaXtap4Gvu01BBX5fKEeehottflujZpxblt60aUqMwRh_TAMpYgV6EHyd3s8guF5zqp/s400/DSCF3409.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492926433709979026" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1SPmFYHFsH-w7UdhxEg_PEn_dQe9DGMXKap8P9ZjnREOuybxujVTEzL7wSEC9BmhsHjGOW85f6GlZNUwryIJjenISsjflsxfx4PJGWtB9B9qAItuuApb6PGy7LV3SWd7LTZcj0CfGU7uO/s1600/DSCF3495.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1SPmFYHFsH-w7UdhxEg_PEn_dQe9DGMXKap8P9ZjnREOuybxujVTEzL7wSEC9BmhsHjGOW85f6GlZNUwryIJjenISsjflsxfx4PJGWtB9B9qAItuuApb6PGy7LV3SWd7LTZcj0CfGU7uO/s400/DSCF3495.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492926638460953378" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVH7XewbhoXqmLO22TNlvO6kerpV7TF9g96DE9N7Z7MaZu73QlKbQPXUVSXu9a3YaXHCbZeTT7OWHEZR1ZQZcv5vMCJOkfeTRtC3m2nZF1lW0hJ3VpgnTlX3I24iFkgTPcSLO-0oQRbCrB/s1600/DSCF3490.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVH7XewbhoXqmLO22TNlvO6kerpV7TF9g96DE9N7Z7MaZu73QlKbQPXUVSXu9a3YaXHCbZeTT7OWHEZR1ZQZcv5vMCJOkfeTRtC3m2nZF1lW0hJ3VpgnTlX3I24iFkgTPcSLO-0oQRbCrB/s400/DSCF3490.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492926631755124866" /></a><br />I stayed in my family's home in Santa Rosa.<br />I haven't been there in 8 years, and things have changed a lot. My great-grandmother who lived there is no longer there, the kitchen and bathroom were completely remodeled, an additional guest house was built in the backyard, and places that I ventured in Santa Rosa seemed to be missing. Now that I wandered the place by car, I am impressed at the 12 year old me walking around that place by feet, finding this to occupy myself with. I got a little sentimental as I pulled out the family genealogy book and flipped the pages. The book was created in 1976, but my great-grandmother was editing it until the very end; my name was written in it as well as my cousin's, and she had notes and clippings attached on a lot of pages. I finally got to trace my family history, and knew where I came from. After I heard about my parents' divorce, I was feeling a little detached from my family, but now I know for sure that I need to keep my head up high. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwk_c12zuosKdlzJUuFfbddJi5J22-qmOXDX-mW5PKWKjkN1rKZdxU7YXvUMHQJpy04yAnAwk4Z9i5QD7PAvZbDASOgLnt-BxAO9bBGY9C68G143_J8x9mA13GaooJMZ7iNj0cAhZhQOeY/s1600/DSCF3532.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwk_c12zuosKdlzJUuFfbddJi5J22-qmOXDX-mW5PKWKjkN1rKZdxU7YXvUMHQJpy04yAnAwk4Z9i5QD7PAvZbDASOgLnt-BxAO9bBGY9C68G143_J8x9mA13GaooJMZ7iNj0cAhZhQOeY/s400/DSCF3532.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492927928615683570" /></a><br />I also scored this lovely little psychedelic dress from the 60s from a great vintage store in Haight and Ashbury. How I wished my bank account was overflowing so I could take all the amazing dresses I found back home with me. Buying this dress meant no decent meals for the last day I was there, and extra tight with money for going to Comic Con, but I couldn't care. ...Also, drindls are lovelier in real life! <br /><br /><br />Overall, I had a good time.<br />+Great cafes, great boutiques, great food (seafood!), and I got to trace back my roots.<br />However, I do feel that I could have gone with different people. More people with similar interests, or more people that don't mind driving to and from Santa Rosa (It's a boring old town and you have to pay the toll to get into SF, but I love that place. Ironically, it's the town where I purchased my first CD with a parental advisory sticker on it. It was the only Murderdolls CD, and I was 12 years old.) I really didn't have a good time walking into high end boutiques (with no clothes that I was interested in, or could afford), places that you could go to in LA (H&M, Starbucks, KidRobot... really?), eating at restaurants in Japantown (...so glad I didn't order any food at the second restaurant... everything was vile there), nor being at a dinner table with 2 of my friend's ex-girlfriends, as well as his current girlfriend (awkward vibes, woot woot)... The list could go on. <br />But maybe that's because of my tendency of thinking "I WANNA TRAVEL ALONE!". (My friend wanted to travel to Paris with me but I slapped the "Aw hell no next time I'm going I'm venturing on my own!" attitude...) <br /><br />Now that I think about it, some parts of San Francisco reminded me of Paris... Needless to say, the city's added to the list of places-that-I-may-want-to-live-in-the-future.EMi.http://www.blogger.com/profile/13697586455412723409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5309821410041607737.post-80674548134593815952010-07-07T23:34:00.000-07:002010-07-07T23:54:35.488-07:00::Say Goodbye::<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1iWUdQUQGiCDs3lL0yRq6-QH5OW6WAIK_1lwFgCI7KGLPyRoB3VPc6iacvaMl5PYhzMzkPcj9WipjcFs_5f2CSeImx4r0HJlnfcHJUy3wni5YT7xl_abJJ0EwvwPJN41czic2GPZY5FO-/s1600/tumblr_l3e8i3KF3C1qzrl8bo1_400.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 389px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1iWUdQUQGiCDs3lL0yRq6-QH5OW6WAIK_1lwFgCI7KGLPyRoB3VPc6iacvaMl5PYhzMzkPcj9WipjcFs_5f2CSeImx4r0HJlnfcHJUy3wni5YT7xl_abJJ0EwvwPJN41czic2GPZY5FO-/s400/tumblr_l3e8i3KF3C1qzrl8bo1_400.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491421483736463058" /></a><br /><br />...A blunder of events. <br /><br />Last night my mum called me to tell me that she finally broke it out to my dad, and he agreed on divorcing her.<br />Part of me, that was always sandwiched between them (and acted like the last piece of string that actually connected them in any way possible), that part of me sighed and felt "Oh, finally." and in a way, almost felt relieved that the divorce was official. <br />I no longer have to lie to my dad. I no longer have to make up alibis for my mum. <br />My dad had faults. But so did my mum. In all honesty, it was about time they went their separate ways. Otherwise, no one was going to be happy.<br />But then, as selfish as I felt, I started wondering what would become of me. I, still, technically was both my mum and dad's child. There's no legal binding between them, but I share both of their blood, and legally, I'm their "child". I know my age would make me an "adult", but no matter what, I still am their "kid". Part of me is scared that he'd just yell "fuck it" and abandon me as a whole. We didn't have a good relationship in the past couple years as a father and child, and I feel like this is going to give it a good blow. <br />Then the rage that I've been accumulating towards my mum is getting larger and larger by the minute. I was controlling it well, but it's becoming a little unbearable. Now you're trying to make me spit out words from my mouth that I don't want to for your benefit? Again? No, I've done enough of that. You were the one who taught me not to lie to people, yet you constantly pleaded me to lie to my own father. <br /><br />I don't fucking care about your happiness any more.EMi.http://www.blogger.com/profile/13697586455412723409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5309821410041607737.post-39121808505427051792010-07-06T15:10:00.001-07:002010-07-06T15:22:33.389-07:00::Days::The last couple days have been hectic yet inspiring for me, I'm loving every moment of it.<br /><br />Parties, photo shoots, meetings, cleaning, packing, collaborating...<br />+ Being disturbed my insensitive and immature "parties" that my roommate decides to throw... (I was never a big party person, and highly doubt that I ever will be, especially on a night before shoots/work!!)<br /><br />I had the pleasure of being shot by the amazing <a href="http://hakanphotography.com/">Akif Hakan Celebi.</a> I have been a fan of his work in the past couple years, and I was overjoyed that he wanted to photograph me. A truly interesting and inspiring experience, I can honestly say that I have not been this inspired to "express" while modeling for a photographer. 19GB of "footage" was shot, and now I'm anxious to see how the shots turned out!<br /><br /><br />Also watched 「おくりびと」("Departures") last night...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiWkV9-NiiooV6XGJT5WNKcTJex7ZCA3rE-_5mnCS4_QOgZApbol4YM6krEY_I0nfwPvXJrXmPeqBDb3Rl7thkw9pez50hk4cwJrpRkzDYNSZLTT5nu0OmkHAvKmvoxccEuPEeIatjLGZB/s1600/a_000098.gif"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 278px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiWkV9-NiiooV6XGJT5WNKcTJex7ZCA3rE-_5mnCS4_QOgZApbol4YM6krEY_I0nfwPvXJrXmPeqBDb3Rl7thkw9pez50hk4cwJrpRkzDYNSZLTT5nu0OmkHAvKmvoxccEuPEeIatjLGZB/s400/a_000098.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490920620570720418" /></a><br />(I have an amazing friend of gave me his password to his netflix account! gracias!)<br />Truly touching. I have never watched a movie that is so simply shot, and some what nostalgic (The country side/Yamagata... I miss that place!), yet strong enough to shake up your emotions. A lot of people don't encounter death, and its interesting to see how a lot of people are not "used" to, or are "scared" of death/dead bodies. It also made me think about what would possibly happen if I were to just go at this moment. What are people going to feel? How are they going to react? What is going to happen?...<br /><br />Gonna go get my tattoo touched up + visiting the Museum of Death in Hollywood with my friend tomorrow. Then I'm leaving for San Francisco for 5 days, back in LA for a week and a bit, then off to San Diego for Comic Con. BUSSSSYYY!EMi.http://www.blogger.com/profile/13697586455412723409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5309821410041607737.post-47336588248264001652010-07-03T00:57:00.000-07:002010-07-03T01:02:22.787-07:00::Oh you!::If anything owns my soul at the moment, it would be these little cheeky munchkins...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7RwniHSpTXNRglHbRePDdkx3wLdaRh41dY-bZZnrYNi4dPhmrq5uMpIC6_HJqbgvYrjTmu1QjZrXRSifXmK-oeOXieLCqr1AM9r3aqw_f7QuPmvrbW6sL_K49n0xTsAiID4_74v9sAJ42/s1600/DSCF3211.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7RwniHSpTXNRglHbRePDdkx3wLdaRh41dY-bZZnrYNi4dPhmrq5uMpIC6_HJqbgvYrjTmu1QjZrXRSifXmK-oeOXieLCqr1AM9r3aqw_f7QuPmvrbW6sL_K49n0xTsAiID4_74v9sAJ42/s400/DSCF3211.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489586431309336546" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqOsbH2z8XpRrjAodV9SjzBuYbjGz9sXYMu9uqu4Odqf2JFsDyobzUtoSiiF2zLFN2CYYGLNjz_7rUa-6u1aXxMGJpRMTkke_KxpttoyPlCU-QSUWdi03JMbZjOkiM1OwJJlI1yjxc6FB3/s1600/DSCF3208.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqOsbH2z8XpRrjAodV9SjzBuYbjGz9sXYMu9uqu4Odqf2JFsDyobzUtoSiiF2zLFN2CYYGLNjz_7rUa-6u1aXxMGJpRMTkke_KxpttoyPlCU-QSUWdi03JMbZjOkiM1OwJJlI1yjxc6FB3/s400/DSCF3208.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489586426022444962" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaD2XvfBKINDfcVyKByk8nZEaCMD4NWcIvhjSajBF6J6lfQYeLWuBXmgQhuxA7ds494AWZ0RmhzpD97KcU-bgGZiYj-QwVGHNLkstSwg9sQOM5cvE540jLxZzIFtd3Yj106A0lXnRikaWC/s1600/DSCF3206.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaD2XvfBKINDfcVyKByk8nZEaCMD4NWcIvhjSajBF6J6lfQYeLWuBXmgQhuxA7ds494AWZ0RmhzpD97KcU-bgGZiYj-QwVGHNLkstSwg9sQOM5cvE540jLxZzIFtd3Yj106A0lXnRikaWC/s400/DSCF3206.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489586419609056706" /></a><br /><br />When I finish devouring all these little fuckers (+gaining an additional 30lbs), I can proudly say that I have tried 10 out of the 27 (incl. current seasonal) flavors offered at Sprinkles. Hey, I even tried Chai Latte, which I was pretty skeptical about! (All I know is I won't be having carrot (when I was a kid I puked from eating a carrot cake and I'm traumatized since), pumpkin, chocolate marshmallow and mocha)<br />Over-hyped, Over-rated and over-priced, yet you still succeed on making me crave for more and more of you. GOD DAMNIT.EMi.http://www.blogger.com/profile/13697586455412723409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5309821410041607737.post-77925399267710880742010-06-30T00:10:00.000-07:002010-06-30T00:27:04.308-07:00::ramble ramble!::<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiat_hmuz5eK1kgMUhiF4wg5h00kfp0SRXMwlIYaFLEpyAp-0I63m2vV0p812ndzCOySPDMRD9u3Y-JtV8XoRRAUzGJ5rByb5awq8LUnFvjExAGSmToSKMwPLwRmv30QlzwHS2K2LuAgfCr/s1600/122675537.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiat_hmuz5eK1kgMUhiF4wg5h00kfp0SRXMwlIYaFLEpyAp-0I63m2vV0p812ndzCOySPDMRD9u3Y-JtV8XoRRAUzGJ5rByb5awq8LUnFvjExAGSmToSKMwPLwRmv30QlzwHS2K2LuAgfCr/s400/122675537.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488460756338023074" /></a><br />Lady Gaga is absolutely gorgeous as a man. <br />Call me rude and blunt, but I always refer to this lady as a "butherface"; don't get me wrong, it's a matter of personal preference, and quite honestly, I do not find her face attractive. But because of this photo of her as a male, I am starting to get convinced that it is because of her crappy make-up. Either way, Jo Calderone? Yes. Scrumptious. <br /><br />I was having a rather bleak day until this happened;<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibxyYUdl6lZj1ICE2S_TxnZsqzq2RcRpdsmVQ-NZTR2NKhmGyvwOpLMPEOup401uF5T0djnsUmjRNgMLOdQy9BuWUQA6eFfUVFdoNHV0SmDjWLNGrMEDNq5TMME2bbH7fKwK_3B5Qsztcw/s1600/DSCF3138.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibxyYUdl6lZj1ICE2S_TxnZsqzq2RcRpdsmVQ-NZTR2NKhmGyvwOpLMPEOup401uF5T0djnsUmjRNgMLOdQy9BuWUQA6eFfUVFdoNHV0SmDjWLNGrMEDNq5TMME2bbH7fKwK_3B5Qsztcw/s400/DSCF3138.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488461265240254242" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicBVQZE_rZrwkEsohl9-fiN-UkMG0s2Swp3v1GefEUhPLYiCdXNAFi9nLulcRge9X00KMT67qJmTUEAAj1j0TO3k-cmm0ruSBdm9a64XjC7-WK-gBddmVSepLFaPp8vrkwQGq2wP2s5SRL/s1600/DSCF3141.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicBVQZE_rZrwkEsohl9-fiN-UkMG0s2Swp3v1GefEUhPLYiCdXNAFi9nLulcRge9X00KMT67qJmTUEAAj1j0TO3k-cmm0ruSBdm9a64XjC7-WK-gBddmVSepLFaPp8vrkwQGq2wP2s5SRL/s400/DSCF3141.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488461446502417170" /></a><br />Call them overrated, call them overly-sugary, call them weight gain 3000 (...I've completely forgotten about the "diet" I had in mind) Sprinkles cupcakes are amazing. I can only keep my fingers crossed that they open a store in Tokyo... Just in case I decide to move back to Japan after graduating from college. <br />...I have 2 photo shoots coming up, and I'm chowing down on cupcakes that are 70% icing. This is exactly why I could never be a "model", my height being one reason, and my love for sweets being the other. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEOwyZKwgQ-PagCSfYJTpmHNigoNmhxr25ioqQlYCA4ehZ5fybdWTg8PvRz_hTcMergc76p03cHoBvAk9SqCaTGdMItAS0C6u7kX1pdNN3HENsq3j6vJpbjgKJg_d8YTH-SPLRErbdtYFK/s1600/%E5%86%99%E7%9C%9F%EF%BC%882010-06-29+20.56%EF%BC%89.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEOwyZKwgQ-PagCSfYJTpmHNigoNmhxr25ioqQlYCA4ehZ5fybdWTg8PvRz_hTcMergc76p03cHoBvAk9SqCaTGdMItAS0C6u7kX1pdNN3HENsq3j6vJpbjgKJg_d8YTH-SPLRErbdtYFK/s400/%E5%86%99%E7%9C%9F%EF%BC%882010-06-29+20.56%EF%BC%89.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488463944270819890" /></a><br />I've also gotten around to retouching my hair. Jewel tones=High maintenance, but I don't think I can go back to "normal" colors after having a pink head for so long... People who don't know me personally refer to me as "PINK". Even the head of my department does. Sadly. Even though her husband has mentioned things about me to her on a number of occasions. I've added some violet/amethyst tones this time round. Hopefully my color concoctions will work out as I vision it to be- for now I am sleeping with a shower cap covering my dye-infested hair and wrapping it up with a afghan stole. Can't wait to wash it out tomorrow morning and see how things go, and possibly a retouch in the next few days if things turn ugly...<br /><br />And finally, David Bowie, because David Bowie is amazing.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjELvXhvEa-Deq4LAg0yGAqCNPmAQO2JZzxq209se4i3Wq6zWm78VoFHRrmVCQtUKH5GD-D7lk3Qt4dsOcBUGLNN5S0xCrgaMlc50dr2ny-uTZzfy6eDvSzT-v_JVR9a7aIsEf5wynK-N9H/s1600/tumblr_ktjsuc3C3U1qzj65vo1_500.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjELvXhvEa-Deq4LAg0yGAqCNPmAQO2JZzxq209se4i3Wq6zWm78VoFHRrmVCQtUKH5GD-D7lk3Qt4dsOcBUGLNN5S0xCrgaMlc50dr2ny-uTZzfy6eDvSzT-v_JVR9a7aIsEf5wynK-N9H/s400/tumblr_ktjsuc3C3U1qzj65vo1_500.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488464847627568594" /></a><br />I love David Bowie as much as I love Sprinkles.EMi.http://www.blogger.com/profile/13697586455412723409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5309821410041607737.post-8837936118264288312010-06-27T19:47:00.000-07:002010-06-27T19:48:12.567-07:00Oh, Christian.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3UufVBK3QBbYLT4-XPPOY0oVx2Sjsecht5Z0-IlYa0JjW6PYs2rwM3GwvYDRqj5kPGnzKhAPncWpM4fbwqZ4FX5w1mEf2V7peNvq817GTK2VMNTC7JFcNc2UQWBcIMZVtVCGndb2zDf5T/s1600/%E3%82%B9%E3%82%AF%E3%83%AA%E3%83%BC%E3%83%B3%E3%82%B7%E3%83%A7%E3%83%83%E3%83%88%EF%BC%882010-06-26+0.13.26%EF%BC%89.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 285px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3UufVBK3QBbYLT4-XPPOY0oVx2Sjsecht5Z0-IlYa0JjW6PYs2rwM3GwvYDRqj5kPGnzKhAPncWpM4fbwqZ4FX5w1mEf2V7peNvq817GTK2VMNTC7JFcNc2UQWBcIMZVtVCGndb2zDf5T/s400/%E3%82%B9%E3%82%AF%E3%83%AA%E3%83%BC%E3%83%B3%E3%82%B7%E3%83%A7%E3%83%83%E3%83%88%EF%BC%882010-06-26+0.13.26%EF%BC%89.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487650778418520322" /></a><br /><br />Oh, Christian.<br />Oh, beautiful, beautiful Loubutins. <br />Why must you<br />Oh why must you<br /><br />be so fucking unaffordable.EMi.http://www.blogger.com/profile/13697586455412723409noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5309821410041607737.post-4870332511736641072010-06-26T00:33:00.000-07:002010-06-26T01:10:50.676-07:00RELATIONSHIPS101 WITH DOCTOR TAM<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJjAcFEZer99OUt-6f-jTDEBYECzfBDse2mi_gGv0htyhp67v-U0ovaWYU4c3NeYwvcybRJfG9ZLF27hMBd7WRnfTmaro-aVxcTdnRs72c2C-p9D_jK0Dv31c6iDw0ziq4i4qATghg9_Sg/s1600/tumblr_l4dl7kkDgX1qzc27wo1_400.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 385px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJjAcFEZer99OUt-6f-jTDEBYECzfBDse2mi_gGv0htyhp67v-U0ovaWYU4c3NeYwvcybRJfG9ZLF27hMBd7WRnfTmaro-aVxcTdnRs72c2C-p9D_jK0Dv31c6iDw0ziq4i4qATghg9_Sg/s400/tumblr_l4dl7kkDgX1qzc27wo1_400.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486982872456992210" /></a><br /><br />...I always wonder why I end up being the come-to person for relationship inquires and venting... <br />In all honesty, I love "girl talks". From boy trouble because "my boyfriend is being a dick and not texting me back" to more raunchy topics such as how to master sucking dick (which, does not always have to be a girl talk session with a girl, I have noticed). I do enjoy discussing how to deal with rocky relationships over a cup of tea. But in all honesty, I am getting quite sick of dealing with people "venting" over stupid crap.<br />And those people who usually "vent" in regards to relationships, are ones who are not obviously incapable of maintaining, or even stepping a foot into a relationship. ...By this I have no intentions of being "Oh yeah because I, ME, I am totally capable of being in the perfect relationship!" [Quite the contrary, I'm quite content with my time as a single girl in the past couple months, and I think it's something I've needed for quite a while...A whole list of things to do+commitments I have really don't help any kind of relationship/partnership at the moment. I admit my incapability.]<br /><br />My honest question is; why even bother?<br />If your intentions are purely sexual, why even bother being in a relationship? If sex is your main motive, that is one great reason for a failing route for a relationship. I've experienced it myself; partner (a) was all about sex, I got tired of it and didn't want to have any more sex after a while, and things dissolved on its own. On the other hand, with partner (b), I enjoyed the sex and I loved the cuddling, and probably wanted a little too much. Too much for partner (b), at least. So things didn't quite work out for that either. It's like trying to jam a key into a keyhole that isn't designed for the key. It just won't work.<br />A good friend of mine (male, much older than me) bluntly told me "It's nice to have a fuck buddy though, you just get your needs met and taken care of, no strings attached." As liberal and care-free I may be in regards to a lot of subjects, it was quite a shocker for me, and I couldn't swallow his words into my system for a while. But reflecting on my life and my experience, I could understand where he was coming from, and what he meant. And then another friend's words popped into my mind; "It's nice to have a friend that you can trust to that degree." <br />We're human. We more or less have "needs" that need to be met. I for one, can honestly admit that I do. And what my friend mentioned was indeed true; "trust" is indeed important, in a lot of things in life, sex being one of them. For me personally, I can indulge in sex unless it's with a person I can trust. Sure, any person can randomly come up and "stimulate" me "sexually", but that doesn't mean I'm enjoying it. Worst case scenario, I'll end up having one of those mental-orgam-blocks and end up feeling like absolute crap in the end. <br />So in the end, in regards to sexual partners, rather than a failing relationship with horrible sex, I'd rather have someone in my life that I can trust and allow myself to indulge with. <br /><br />In other words, it may be fair for me to say that I'm glad that I wasn't one of those people that clung onto their virginity like it was some kind of trophy that increased some invisible value to yourself. My own mother claimed that I was "too young" (although I was considered "pretty old" by my peers... I had to be leaning towards my mother's claim rather than my peers' on this one...) In a sense it allowed me to experience things before I got too old, or got stuck in same old ideas that end up suffocating me. <br /><br />...Like drugs. Another good quote from a friend of mine-<br />"Those things are things that you just don't do when you hit a certain age. Like when you're 20. Why even bother at that point?"EMi.http://www.blogger.com/profile/13697586455412723409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5309821410041607737.post-58104953265096721862010-06-25T16:29:00.003-07:002010-06-25T16:29:26.698-07:00bloglovin!<a href="http://www.bloglovin.com/blog/1836124/dripped-milk?claim=8k37tcqk9t3">Follow my blog with bloglovin</a>EMi.http://www.blogger.com/profile/13697586455412723409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5309821410041607737.post-11703235543759061602010-06-25T16:29:00.001-07:002010-06-25T16:29:26.104-07:00bloglovin!<a href="http://www.bloglovin.com/blog/1836124/dripped-milk?claim=8k37tcqk9t3">Follow my blog with bloglovin</a>EMi.http://www.blogger.com/profile/13697586455412723409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5309821410041607737.post-17688635874529484262010-06-23T20:52:00.000-07:002010-06-23T21:04:58.209-07:00::stumble on me!::Recently I've stumbled upon some little treasures on the interwebs.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.stumbleupon.com/">Stumbleupon</a><br />A nifty little chatroulette-for-websites app. I've already come across a couple useful/inspiring/interesting site via this website (although I have to admit, you have to be careful with which interests you pick, since there's some misses that come with the hits...)EMi.http://www.blogger.com/profile/13697586455412723409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5309821410041607737.post-71430028904662933282010-06-21T16:37:00.000-07:002010-06-21T16:38:16.177-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqilm1dzmUlF_kQAP5eaNho92JwhiO5j7lQCD3hrml62FChfW1lHiM7ZzgpXh6PkAKSqGxjaotxUlv9pclLyy8_BhHhWbf1-xVO2-9cDI6vviCphWzdPyRBKKJTM-MpXyEZOE8lYTwtWlt/s1600/Scribbler_2.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 389px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqilm1dzmUlF_kQAP5eaNho92JwhiO5j7lQCD3hrml62FChfW1lHiM7ZzgpXh6PkAKSqGxjaotxUlv9pclLyy8_BhHhWbf1-xVO2-9cDI6vviCphWzdPyRBKKJTM-MpXyEZOE8lYTwtWlt/s400/Scribbler_2.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485375426949127186" /></a>EMi.http://www.blogger.com/profile/13697586455412723409noreply@blogger.com0