andshelivedhappilyeverafter.the.end.

so i stood there and waited. the boy looks on and gives a nod.
a girl turns and smiles. at me. and then asked- to a friend. who i was.
i turn. the boy looks on.
i smile. and waited.
nope.
nothing.
i glance over. the girl's still there.
i sigh.
and waited.
still nothing.
he grabs his bags and walks me out.
the girl asks one more time
as i pass her by
who is she?
who was she?


i don't know love.

i don't know.

aspotofcolourwilldousgood.

theprincesswhoworelouboutins.

she called me a princess.
yes.
damn straight.
thats what she called me.
her first impression of me- me, wearing my louboutins (NOT-they're just red-soled) and she tells me she's worried she might have to work with a princess.
Well, i'll be damned.
Bring on the fashion gods, the labels and all its gory.
since when did women became labelled 'princesses' because we're in HIGH heels?
are we that un-conformed to the reality of the 21st century women??
you know- the whole 'be tough and strong BUT still being able to retain a hint of feminism?
isn't that what HIGH heels bring to the board?
Power/SEX/Woman

Now-
she thinks i'm ghetto'.

i resign to the subjection of being judge.
first impressions count.
from the words of one of me wiser mates-

'booya mutherfuckas'

my most 'princess-y' self.

red lipstick and all.
.
.
.
least i tried with the red.

lightersexiernote.

who made these babies??? !!

damn- those notes are in my documents.

somewhere.

pls be there.

pretend/not.

Being here (here being in this space-time-place-continuum)  makes me angry.

'Its hard to be happy here'- someone said to me- all doe-eyed and of course- SAD.

I stared back in disbelief.

FINALLY. someone summed up all my years of misery 'here'.

it IS hard to be HAPPY 'here'.

i'm angry- no- NOT grumpy even. JUST angry.

Everyday I make my way through this one bus stop.

filled with people ALL the time.

standing- walking through

knocking the gajibbies off of me

every SINGLE day.

Jay Z humming in my headphones- rappin' bout' life being a beach chair

ALL that's busting through my head though

is this incomprehensible need to feel ANGRY

with

this heat.

these people.

the noise.

the pretense.

THIS city.

City slicker-i sure ain't.

i'm going to hell.

with every single death wish i have in my head.

aren't i?

someone save my soul. *smiles*

theCOKEad.

                                                               lovin' it.

                                            

science.the.world.

i studied.
i worked.

london.
i was your neighbourhood GAP girl.
the 'sarcastic lil' oriental bartender in the westend's AKA END.
i moved on up to Apt 139,King's Road- Title: cocktail bartender-only the best.
i was your westend's English teacher to the Italians, the Turks, the French, the Japanese-
u name it.
Up at 7 for virology in surrey.
out by 3pm.
down to london.
behind the bar by 5pm.
gin. smokes.airkisses.jokes.coke.boys.sex.
end work-2am.
partied - till dawn.
in my lil' corner
shakin' it.

7am- southwest train. back to surrey.
aviator shades.
headaches.
booze.
9am- 101 on marine biology.

my life.
in a day.
LONDON.WATERLOO.VICTORIA.

walkwithyourheadheldhigh.

i'm going to need those tight ass pants.....

and pink lowlights.
pretty please.
you hear me fairy godmother??

publicloveaffairs.

Faith.

Aldo

Charles & Keith

Nine West

20.1.2010.

This post came late.
But really, I'm never early.
This year-
all I really want
is to be on top.
.
.
.
.
.
of ANY mountain.
climb and conquer.
Here's to 2010.