16.8.10
13.8.10
::Rilakkuma Party!::
My friends at BUBBLEPUNCH kindly invited me to the Rilakkuma Weekend VIP Party held at Umamiburger in Hollywood!
7.8.10
::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."
-Me, shopping at Whole Foods, after hearing "I love you hair!" for the 5th time that day.
I am happy with my vodka peach orange mango concoction
with my colorist gloves as I prepare for routine hair maintenance.
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.]
Essential tricks of trade;
a) Foil. It's foil.
b) Developer. I use 30 for good measure.
c) Bleach packet. I use L'Oreal.
d) Bowl. I think I jacked it from my roommate.
e) Brush.
f) Petroleum Jelly. Fancy word for Vaseline.
Also, cheaper than Vaseline at CVS.
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.
My hair-dye soulmates.(Maybe not quite so for Manic Panic, however)
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.
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.
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)
-Me, shopping at Whole Foods, after hearing "I love you hair!" for the 5th time that day.
![](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)
with my colorist gloves as I prepare for routine hair maintenance.
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.]
a) Foil. It's foil.
b) Developer. I use 30 for good measure.
c) Bleach packet. I use L'Oreal.
d) Bowl. I think I jacked it from my roommate.
e) Brush.
f) Petroleum Jelly. Fancy word for Vaseline.
Also, cheaper than Vaseline at CVS.
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.
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.
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)
5.8.10
::Emi love.s. Poketo::
I have a weakness for a certain something. It's companies such as POKETO 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.
![](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)
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.
...and how cannot I love them.
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.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8zB8DEs5-RHBRfD31xettFZBh8A5n_yhG2MG4nTa8GLwE_u77qXFDhgnSr5XU2yXpI7cvbkmf7VWdjzw9dkstnVOLyXoQrozE6_XjuaIbcL_xOCSCixNLrIy-gGGfJSkUGNN74lzjrFKl/s320/365-460x460.jpg)
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.
TODAY::
![](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)
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.
...and how cannot I love them.
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.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8zB8DEs5-RHBRfD31xettFZBh8A5n_yhG2MG4nTa8GLwE_u77qXFDhgnSr5XU2yXpI7cvbkmf7VWdjzw9dkstnVOLyXoQrozE6_XjuaIbcL_xOCSCixNLrIy-gGGfJSkUGNN74lzjrFKl/s320/365-460x460.jpg)
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.
![](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)
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 :)
3.8.10
::Fly Away, Honey.::
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWsQYNX6WdSf2CBX5iPzJayejofZO2vGYGxpIaeO8-oayqfKx-KrE4GARvpBqzZ3EMtvM2FmvrisOuEBPWg2wFMavxtg5Lv1vgqmoYHom9O3aelGaMx1E9fG-y9MeTaNoWvv3Rlg8GeFU0/s320/tumblr_l6bhg9NDrH1qzabkfo1_500.jpg)
"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"
"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."
"That's fine, you're doing the right thing."
"Sometimes the best way to show them you love them is moving away from them."
"...Then, she might finally notice something."
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.
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!
And then, I felt more and more freed from the fears I was dragging from an early age.
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 she 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.
And all these years passed by, and I felt nothing change.
I still wasn't "perfect".
So here I am, after all these years, drawing a line between you and me.
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!
And under the needle I went.
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.And then, I felt more and more freed from the fears I was dragging from an early age.
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 she 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.
And all these years passed by, and I felt nothing change.
I still wasn't "perfect".
So here I am, after all these years, drawing a line between you and me.
::milk + honey.::
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHBhU6OmPU30glZ8qmSNjnHsyTyxZsdFwrPB1zvaww43OHRh8-2SX5uXbNHK7sN9cr44vFrvBLAJG2yRCEvbR8ON9JjCpE7tDmju9MWzzNFJa56nxa_J07ultbTQxB0iAQutrpWPmRer3x/s320/tumblr_kunbz7KDuY1qzl2d1o1_500.jpg)
Bad relationships. ≠ Mistakes.
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.
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.
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.
1.8.10
::F.M. Doll::
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigSQhGxWgYdt9QPp-WeYOgmadZUVsvUrFN5anmtP9f6OJJWAY_43Tqe83_Du7bX_kdDc2u1uGn_WGIq2lYk5uCkyMnwbfMtB4p-KWLhfR47BqLukcIVO5gOTpaP16d3x0j8HJTm-8zHos1/s320/img_5406-edit-copy-2_1-copy.jpg)
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.
And here they are.
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.
And here I am.
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?
In a sense, I almost feel like I'm not the girl in this photograph.
30.7.10
27.7.10
25.7.10
::Comi-Con-Con!::
I've been in San Diego since Wednesday for... you know... COMIC CON!
...Needless to say I've been having loads, actually, too much fun.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitZE5FgvHI6Fx4yp3zP2MNvMvfVOsz9H9WX8TOW7HCXA4-4fFDoaQJqfD4mL2Zu2oC53t1Q3SrP4T7B08ep0eu0iYUZyxAi5zad0tq9MjKbVb6vL7stll1HqSD0X9BaCGCQLRim1vfeGYj/s320/DSCF3616.JPG)
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![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3_wH9xF2njuAzCaqnIf7L7QTfp9EikxgE2MHKWUf2c9lfbZMJN0bnlMEYvo4FcP0XYWWkRA8hnR0uIlHBZ-YUXgYqKZ2fZkk5vr2z6xH0l6Zp0Becld2UJbZyAqfmjuh5Eh_77bOTnbUH/s320/DSCF3684.jpg)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0URtK1_KYZijwoD99zMY63ctf0hWk5CXSmLoeRKXWOdI7SOHoX8ZKgeMmNcUvW6ySa9UtfK-lH_p2YCZLYEg8GND8eE2rO_0-SMMlATrHbferfti2_xb6OQmHXWgSAwABS6En8EKQIc_2/s320/DSCF3687.jpg)
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![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCwlGhyxLwDVF7qrok0Afhxv5yAMEfqmqEEoLDPxFfeqtDPvolU5VETsINUIVMy5K6LmMC1KYgjb5E342WPiQJJHdlXufo2xRHjpK6RrQLL_X-I3X9ERzTbVrn92w79E35ImAQqZ2H79HX/s320/DSCF3731.JPG)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDUW0Bzxx7a9FpYzeSgx8Z0w2jxlbk2k-d-MSv4SSOhkyU9Q6tKWmBHlMV4om_JLzQu02KrSz9VF0FckAqN5AnxXUSscbgfXD3QTfbwuza43bEM3rgV4NCVkLEM-4NM2l_Ddu5OSs-14zJ/s320/DSCF3733.jpg)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPKqeMo2dExIbxK6MI_Hw-jyyKphCM23bKmaef_Y3ZuE1rVxc5Ivay5Azl2ssNwWKKETNdVNuImm0UTu4IP6BPaXhFCFkfOTq5v-ZmpgEPSHwD_m59vy3ee5-khibws3a5K__SGu4fziDi/s320/DSCF3768.JPG)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTPcGGL_uxKBTeGCY-WkwA-AXyriYpiPAGpgvp15fOaO3qXSYlqep2HsRDAmCyZBIOdzKDpDtSSGDDMPKDXiSeGl6cdrKRGg5GKgBK_tvHl9c3cTMVioTv-CXneb3HcM2gWDIDT1K1qgZk/s320/DSCF3770.JPG)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbL3NcEvQvmknAbUf8RcMqMCq6D-wv5LzehnhZkMHskQwC-bOlSlBdc_BaS72pf8ZB8CoZHB51v-BD7WduyaxVNWEUTShUSOAuofttMRXR0_u0No77P-Urs8FcCWhTiQ2yLwWbK3ZIoL2m/s320/DSCF3777.JPG)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioLn2fTE9oNAod4n_4IAuJuNS2H_UAaKKhRVy5qaoTmMDxyVGqq5PngGamwQ6VJlPJao5kNXuSGvqahF_jHwzXPBeO5-ZryRhMSqXGXZbYZqPSHLNaZSCe6caGuu9jpZ6mlXw4bg5X6w7i/s320/DSCF3779.JPG)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhem-o6rBF1SznNDxDyGlDirZYpXZoMYRHWuw2h-LWmCwaQIo7HNj6E5ffqPgvWjEI2Hd07GXLlAg9Sb0HhU82otgaVuTqpaCvcO833XWX8Vqr1cVwfcUcCP0vYOXnkQc4o2bRntU0h3BLJ/s320/DSCF3794.JPG)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDqsIC8Wwp5rSDrIOEr7YnOtk-WOUqK7zvAXYQXJjPwH2MbSQg6c8mUmx9dDyqY77goAh6OqeQj0faMAs4vS847tZyqC13w4H4KtTduVlUmjrJVNjMeouom9bcBOOlYHied0zOAlJwiROD/s320/DSCF3807.JPG)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPoAmAYyzRNb_TMugXxh9bXG1evPxSza24CYSmDFxO2H_OPmWbVbdRs5FYeQeUCbadNQYhPOnZ846jYaKZM7_BrdU-DVf26TLs2AE5NjZPm6nM7aYRKGp4wD4VuKeWQFU4adIPPnKo4h88/s320/DSCF3816.jpg)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhABK10n4yQ8Nzi_igXbFLXwtw7-TqpRePlHV2VzwyfRZ2KZCRgNh_m5gS1_LE-ORYM2_cdNt_rLvtw0L8lXuwdH1zps18UhbCa9VsZzvf9aeQX4V1RxBzEzrDvXPEdTj3o3OMRsQLA-qb_/s320/DSCF3828.jpg)
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.
Tonight:: Off to yakyuudori with Akirawwrrr!<3
...Needless to say I've been having loads, actually, too much fun.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3_wH9xF2njuAzCaqnIf7L7QTfp9EikxgE2MHKWUf2c9lfbZMJN0bnlMEYvo4FcP0XYWWkRA8hnR0uIlHBZ-YUXgYqKZ2fZkk5vr2z6xH0l6Zp0Becld2UJbZyAqfmjuh5Eh_77bOTnbUH/s320/DSCF3684.jpg)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0URtK1_KYZijwoD99zMY63ctf0hWk5CXSmLoeRKXWOdI7SOHoX8ZKgeMmNcUvW6ySa9UtfK-lH_p2YCZLYEg8GND8eE2rO_0-SMMlATrHbferfti2_xb6OQmHXWgSAwABS6En8EKQIc_2/s320/DSCF3687.jpg)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDUW0Bzxx7a9FpYzeSgx8Z0w2jxlbk2k-d-MSv4SSOhkyU9Q6tKWmBHlMV4om_JLzQu02KrSz9VF0FckAqN5AnxXUSscbgfXD3QTfbwuza43bEM3rgV4NCVkLEM-4NM2l_Ddu5OSs-14zJ/s320/DSCF3733.jpg)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPoAmAYyzRNb_TMugXxh9bXG1evPxSza24CYSmDFxO2H_OPmWbVbdRs5FYeQeUCbadNQYhPOnZ846jYaKZM7_BrdU-DVf26TLs2AE5NjZPm6nM7aYRKGp4wD4VuKeWQFU4adIPPnKo4h88/s320/DSCF3816.jpg)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhABK10n4yQ8Nzi_igXbFLXwtw7-TqpRePlHV2VzwyfRZ2KZCRgNh_m5gS1_LE-ORYM2_cdNt_rLvtw0L8lXuwdH1zps18UhbCa9VsZzvf9aeQX4V1RxBzEzrDvXPEdTj3o3OMRsQLA-qb_/s320/DSCF3828.jpg)
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.
Tonight:: Off to yakyuudori with Akirawwrrr!<3
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