back and forth

sometimes you read that life is a roller coaster. sometimes you hear it's a ferris wheel. the gist of it? sometimes you're up, sometimes you're down. and whichever it may be, it'll be something else before long.

and so the pendulum swings. that's how you know you're alive.

so one week you're out every night, soaked in champagne and sparkling like a star.

and the next week you're in bed with a fever, watching awful awful TV and the scheisse netflix sent. and it's crappy, but it's your own damn fault, because netflix is your bitch and does your bidding.

all is not lost!

quiet time is a great opportunity to take your emotional temperature.

and i have absolutely stunning new shoes, and a new bag.

since i was about 13, i've kept a journal. a handwritten notebook type of journal, with alternating pen colors, stickers, postcards and pictures.

lately, i've been blogging and not writing in my journal. my journal lies neglected. and i thought well, i can at least glue some pictures in there.

so i'm at work. i'm wearing a pink cardigan. i look a little pale. so i put on some sting eyeshadow, and then my sweater and makeup are matching, which is recockulous, but i don't care. and i want to listen to some music, so i plug my iPod into my eMac, and my iPod has a pink iSkin, so everything is pink pink pink.

and there i am at my desk, affixing images printed from flickr to the color printer in my journal. and T IMs me and he's all, what are you doing? and i'm all, i'm cutting and pasting. and then my new watch arrives. and i write to him, it matches my sweater. and my eyeshadow. and my iPod.

and he writes, you're such a girl.

and yeah, i am. thanks for noticing. i nourish my inner child. but here's the thing:

i was looking at pictures of dina lohan and i started thinking. where is the line in the sand? when do you say to yourself, "self, leave the pasting of pictures, the pink trinkets and the child-like glee behind" ? when do you ditch the low rise jeans, the paisley swimsuit and oversized glasses, so to speak?

of course, the pendulum quickly swung the other way and i watched the killers on TRL and did some research on teen heartthrobs panic! at the disco. ruffled shirts, moulin rouge-obsessed, accordians, makeup? just what i need. and the under-21 boys are androgynously, innocuously cute, with their //haircuts// and funky makeup. and besides, it's my job.

(one thing i did happen upon, in my research? boy-on-boy fan fic fantasies. that's right. girls writing love stories about these boys being in love with each other. having sex with each other. this what the kids are doing now. fantasizing that their idols are gay. so there may be hope for the future after all... i mean, i found a boys kissing site run by a 15 year old girl way before bareback mountain... girls are learning to objectify boys and turning the tables. guys love girl on girl, so why can't girls like boy on boy? check the comments: i wish i was a guy just so i could kiss hot emo boys )

(listen - p!atd: but it's better if we do, and i write sins, not tragedies)

oh, snap!

oh snap! a story in four chapters:

I
white and nerdy

II
superstar

III
why don't you eat where you slept last night

IV
quote of the daily: "my mother always said, 'honey, it's not jewelry if you can't see it from across the street.'"

chin up!

slow week. food for thought:

genioplasty

monkey portraits

crime & cradle

cradle & crime

what spring 07 looks like, in pdf form

if loving you is wrong, i don't want to be right (unless, of couse, it's actually illegal, and i could do jailtime. in which case, windowshopping is a-ok by me...)

free advice in animated gif form

are you straight or gay? i'm just curious.

multipot, great idea

have a seat

hurt, christina aguilera power is nothing without control, as the tire ad goes. girl's got it under control.

but wait - there's more!

ah yes. where was i?


remnants:



cloak runway show

also: view a shadowy, silent snippet of the last walk below....







concept henry & tsuyoshi at the cloak show




very blurry jared leto at the cloak show.



kate moss' huge ass.




edna dining at chinatown brasserie.




what else?

thursday i went to a dot com party with hrh.

we traveled all the way down into the bowels of manhattan past the ancient fraunces tavern to the downtown auditorium on broad street. lovely space, nice cocktails, great band.






after the party we had dinner at lucky strike, ran into king tee and friend, then went to the soho grand for the studio sofield party.

the penthouse lofts, designed by bill sofield, are just gorgeous. my pictures do not do them justice. airy, with huge decks.







this is the view from the north penthouse. cinematic mist hanging over midtown provided by the mother nature.




there was lots of champagne.






hrh was too busy chatting to notice that this bear was in love with him.






the bear cried a little inside.






boys boys everywhere.




matthew.




matthew's horny keychain.




matthew's paul smith sneaker shoes.





the wallpaper in the bathroom.




the floral arrangement in the bathroom.




the sham pain in the bathroom - mini bottles of veuve.





hrh took my camera whilst i took a call.




the view from the south loft's south deck - looking south.



the view east from the south deck.







party people.





dessert.





dancefloor.




i was tipsy and went back to the bathroom for a private photo shoot.




champagne makes pictures better.



on my way home, i found five bucks. what a great night!


saturday i did some gallery hopping in chelsea.



what if i don't want to learn guitar?




we ate at the park.




i heart warhol.




gabriel could care less.








we also saw some richard serra, nir hod and hai bo.




we also stopped to eat at pop burger and i saw anderson cooper walk by, le sigh!

then the sun went down.


later i took a car service to the water taxi beach in queens for poogene's birthday.




the view was spectacular, but i got sand in my shoes.

still, drinking under the stars with a gorgeous view of manhattan and a DJ pumping tunes was really nice.








poo was really happy. he'd spent the day surfing.

workhorse gave me a ride to manhattan on the back of his vespa. it was really quite lovely to speed through the midtown tunnel; the white tile, white lighting and gentle hum of the scooter made it feel like i was in a movie about the future and everything was going to be ok.

we went to a random party with random people on some random street. taxi!



we ended up at chorus karaoke in koreatown. then i really did feel like i was living in the future. all silver and glass with circles everywhere. some portholes are windows, some are filled with pictures of pop stars... it was very surreal. the controller for the karaoke machine was like a device to pilot a spaceship, and it was bigger than a george foreman grill. you had to hold it in two hands and all of the text was in korean. good times.











as we were leaving chorus, supermodel alessandra ambrosio was coming in with a few friends. nothing like seeing a gorgeous brazilian at 4am to make you feel like it's time to call it a night.

i shared a cab with this kid mike and we were chatting so much in the taxi he was all, "should we have one last drink?" i said, sure! but of course when we got out of the cab we realized it was 4:30 and past last call. so we had breakfast instead, and then i was finally home at 6:00 am.

sunday i saw the black dahlia. craptastic.

as always, more later.