goodbye 2010

and good riddance! you fucking sucked.

i should have put a genius from the apple store on my xmas list

I can feel my machine slowly failing, one step at a time. swollen battery, dead ethernet port, gray screen of death a couple times a week. I need a new computer, yet i have zero dollars. hmm. backblaze and some cleaning up of the applications folder might solve a few issues… but yikes. the good news is there are only 3 days left in the year; the bad news is there are only 3 days left in the year.

on my to-do list: get corporate sponsors, for life.
1. apple
2. pantene pro-V
3. bombay sapphire gin

everything else is negotiable.

so fucking sick of the holidays already

bring on 2011. this fucking year sucks.

things santa will not be bringing me

a cupcake apron

a custom personalized ice bucket

pink typewriter stationery


some sort of trapper hat since i seem to have very rashly gotten rid of mine -- the warmest things i have ever owned, what was i thinking?


a vintage ceramic zebra


a bar cart


a pretty illustration of an alexander mcqueen shoe


a sequin purse


a turquoise blogging caftan


a golden goddess blogging caftan



a floral blogging caftan


vintage vespa


“Remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a wonderful stroke of luck.” -- the Dalai Lama

i know everyone thinks their kid is the cutest kid

but i swear Mole is so freakin handsome in his new Christmas sweater I can hardly stand it.

wtf

each day is more insane than the last! this year needs to end already.

bullseye

holiday crap gets old quick but target has two pretty great spots right now.

"toy jackpot" runs backwards, from finish to start.



"electronic santa" is everything a chromeo/daft punk/deadmau5 lovin' gal could want.

little jerk

what you resist will persist

when life is stable and steady it can be nice yet dull. when life is a roller coaster twisting and turning and looping around, it can be exciting, but accompanied by dizziness and nausea.

we all have our patterns.

some things persist.

i was reading the interview with Michael Alig from earlier this year and thinking, wow, the things i've seen. growing up in new york in the 80s and 90s. i love my friends, love them, but they're mostly new to my life… no one can even understand what it was like, really. it's impossible to even describe. making out with some dude from humanities at marc ballroom, seeing andy warhol at the flea market on columbus avenue, shopping at patricia field on 8th street, seeing terence trent d'arby at the world when you're underage and there's mystery liquid dripping from the ceiling. the koch years, the dinkins years. cbgb, limelight, the tunnel, sticky mike's frog bar, club usa and a whole bunch of other places that don't exist any more… my homes away from home. palladium is an NYU dorm now, the amazing pool hall on that block, Julian's? long gone. Trader Joe's moved in. but it used to be a city of gritty hide outs, nooks and crannies. more mixing, more diversity. most nights out, you were likely to see a drag queen, russell simmons or both. free booze at outlaw parties, making friends with weed dealers in the meadow, $2 whiskey sours at howard johnson's in times square. no one remembers. i remember.

but we all have our patterns.

we all have scenes that get replayed. sometimes the characters are the same but the backdrop is different, sometimes the characters are new, the setting is new, but the words are the same. the things you try and run away from follow you. what you resist will persist. there are only 36 plots in the world.

my pattern, my go-to scene, the monologue i have memorized, the clip that will always, always make it into the director's cut is this: i want more. i always want more. bigger better faster richer farther hotter. and, all praises due to the voodoo priestes: happier. happier. and i can't stop won't stop, even though i'm exhausted and everyone's gone.

completely unrelated: pomade has officially made a comeback. i thought it was just the boys in my little galaxy, but it's definitely a thing. dudes doing dax daily. it looks good, i'll give 'em that. but damn if it doesn't stain a girl's pillowcase. ask yourself this, ladies: is it worth it?