cheerios and milk
the second i got back to sydney, this huge heaviness of sad just sunk into me. back to work and uni and no food or money. having to ask for cuddles.
i was in LA for three weeks with alex and we had the best time. i want to be back now.
i miss my minnie.
all mixed up in the wash.
we slept too much and saw to little.
our cab drivers were racists. making fun of asians with fake chinese jibberish talk.
NBA allstar weekend was on. we get invited to Atlanta, flights paid for, by a group of black rap guys. apparently all called Tyrell. since we couldnt understand a word they said.
it rained. it was freezing. some fucking desert.
some old dude who said we had funny accents bought us jagerbomb shots.
the hotel had not one, but three channels dedicated to promoting itself. all with clowns.
Prince concert was awesome. the merchandise sucked. alex walked home shoe-less. far far too drunk.
we shopped alot. more more more.
leather jackets at h&m. pink tutus. black patent mary janes. drop over $100 at marc jacobs on kitsch junk for friends and no clothes. american apparel. digital watch rings. colourful hoodies. holga cameras for $70 waste. cupcake plates dammit!
try to hide from my former manager, thinking im safe behind new bangs, harijuku hair and an extra 10 pounds of weight but it doesnt work. i just look like a bitch.
bad coffee. no smoking. never realised it was so impossible to find freeshly squeezed juice. reeses peanut butter chocolates again. the world is safe!
disneyland seriously is. nothing could ever go wrong.
except one of the rides we went on in frontierland kinda stopped/broke down half way. but it was fun.
teacups spin sickness.
we're going to be cartoons.
too much cuteness. i almost died. stitch will live on after me. i have no attention span when faced with soft toy disney characters.
we drank alot. smoked even more. paper bills dissappeared behind bars.
i want hayden christianson in factory girl. yummmm.
why is fall out boy all over every magazine and yet no one knows any songs? not that it matters anyways, you change the channel only to see images of britney's shaved head and montages of anna nicole smiths life. this is hollywood. image is everything.
vomit up your dinner and have cute boy clean up after you. pash cute boy and then totally forget who it was. guess which one of us did which?! one of us gets 'married' the other one gets beyond drunk and trips over herself at cold war kids gig. that ones easy.
clubs and bars blur together. step mum helps make fake ids. skulls on our fingers and songs in our head. two australian girlies missing their cheap pre-drinks of passion pop. substitute with overly strong liquor so that we make friends with boys in bands. boys in bands! fez!!!!
chain smoke till it hurts. burn away any sense of smell and talk till 6am. boys who end up in jail for skateboarding. dont drink and drive.
"my homies in australia."
"huh? your mother?"
"my homie!"
end up in the closet with a group of about 8, all rifling through to steal from a friends t-shirt collection. errr????
drive downtown to a party. at the end of the street is a small huddle of homeless people getting warmth from a self-built fire. roll the dice!!!!
bouncers show us magic tricks on portable playstations. are you from new zeland? euro trash bottle blondes and boys with poodle hair. whisper me a song while playing the guitar and i am yours. dressed up like an oscar in gold leggings. spooning each other in bed, half asleep, thinking that she is the boy. law and order: SVU. too much. where is jack nicholsons star anyways?!
put out the fire on us.
laughter is the best medicine.
i was in LA for three weeks with alex and we had the best time. i want to be back now.
i miss my minnie.
all mixed up in the wash.
we slept too much and saw to little.
our cab drivers were racists. making fun of asians with fake chinese jibberish talk.
NBA allstar weekend was on. we get invited to Atlanta, flights paid for, by a group of black rap guys. apparently all called Tyrell. since we couldnt understand a word they said.
it rained. it was freezing. some fucking desert.
some old dude who said we had funny accents bought us jagerbomb shots.
the hotel had not one, but three channels dedicated to promoting itself. all with clowns.
Prince concert was awesome. the merchandise sucked. alex walked home shoe-less. far far too drunk.
we shopped alot. more more more.
leather jackets at h&m. pink tutus. black patent mary janes. drop over $100 at marc jacobs on kitsch junk for friends and no clothes. american apparel. digital watch rings. colourful hoodies. holga cameras for $70 waste. cupcake plates dammit!
try to hide from my former manager, thinking im safe behind new bangs, harijuku hair and an extra 10 pounds of weight but it doesnt work. i just look like a bitch.
bad coffee. no smoking. never realised it was so impossible to find freeshly squeezed juice. reeses peanut butter chocolates again. the world is safe!
disneyland seriously is. nothing could ever go wrong.
except one of the rides we went on in frontierland kinda stopped/broke down half way. but it was fun.
teacups spin sickness.
we're going to be cartoons.
too much cuteness. i almost died. stitch will live on after me. i have no attention span when faced with soft toy disney characters.
we drank alot. smoked even more. paper bills dissappeared behind bars.
i want hayden christianson in factory girl. yummmm.
why is fall out boy all over every magazine and yet no one knows any songs? not that it matters anyways, you change the channel only to see images of britney's shaved head and montages of anna nicole smiths life. this is hollywood. image is everything.
vomit up your dinner and have cute boy clean up after you. pash cute boy and then totally forget who it was. guess which one of us did which?! one of us gets 'married' the other one gets beyond drunk and trips over herself at cold war kids gig. that ones easy.
clubs and bars blur together. step mum helps make fake ids. skulls on our fingers and songs in our head. two australian girlies missing their cheap pre-drinks of passion pop. substitute with overly strong liquor so that we make friends with boys in bands. boys in bands! fez!!!!
chain smoke till it hurts. burn away any sense of smell and talk till 6am. boys who end up in jail for skateboarding. dont drink and drive.
"my homies in australia."
"huh? your mother?"
"my homie!"
end up in the closet with a group of about 8, all rifling through to steal from a friends t-shirt collection. errr????
drive downtown to a party. at the end of the street is a small huddle of homeless people getting warmth from a self-built fire. roll the dice!!!!
bouncers show us magic tricks on portable playstations. are you from new zeland? euro trash bottle blondes and boys with poodle hair. whisper me a song while playing the guitar and i am yours. dressed up like an oscar in gold leggings. spooning each other in bed, half asleep, thinking that she is the boy. law and order: SVU. too much. where is jack nicholsons star anyways?!
put out the fire on us.
laughter is the best medicine.