24 hour party people (eating veggie dishes).

I turn 24 today.

Anyone down for stiff double vodkas and lovely face time?

*short pause to collect my thoughts*

I am SO wearing a serious black dress tonight.

And my Harajuku heels, like duh.

Oh, is it just me or does Lady Gaga wear Nina Ricci? Just a random thought.

N

(It’s my birthday, I am officially allowed to be self indulgent and superficial and pretentious and egocentric and everything I am not on a normal day. There, I said it.)

Now, really. N

Dear Lily Allen, Shut Your Mouth

Lily Allen’s music. Honestly, I am a fan of it.

What I am not a fan of is her ranting (non lyrical).

Allen blogged recently that free music downloads are a good marketing strategy for successful artists, such as Radiohead and Pink Floyd, but not for indie artists fighting to leave their fingerprints on the music industry and the monster it is today.

Well, self proclaimed close friend of Karl Lagerfeld, daughter of successful parents with careers in the film industry- SHUT IT. You are not exactly an “indie artist” and your fame stretches further than England. “The Fear” is STILL in rotation. You get invites to hip events, sponsored by major companies, the paparazzi still take your picture and, obviously, people still take note of the silly things you say.

Allowing your fans to download your album for free off of your official website would not hurt your bank account but rather make your music more accessible to the world. And that is what every artist wants, is it not? For the world to hear what they have to bring to the table? The income follows accordingly.

Also, the use of the aforementioned bands as examples is incredible because to reach the level of success Radiohead and Pink Floyd are at involves great talent, great perseverance and great music.

You’re just a great whiner.

To all a good night.

N

Collingwood likes company

I…not so much.

Labour day weekend I found myself in Collingwood with my S.O and co.

I demolished two bottles of wine, a six pack of Stella,ate ice cream and slept quite uncomfortably both nights. HOWEVER, it was a rad time.

Saturday I found myself asleep in the middle of a park, on a beach blanket. And so “The White Building LTD” screenplay rough draft came to be.

By Sunday, I was back in Btown falling back into routine and awaiting a new week of the usual dealings.

Labour day weekend was a while ago.

Today was mostly spent in Kensington Market at a small Portuguese restaurant which has been open since I was only a thought, a possibility, in my parents minds. After several dishes of the best seafood in the country, our tab frightened me but a cinnamon latte brought my nerves back to where they first lay.

So worth it.

The drive was great, the weather was comfortable and  the K.M atmosphere- unavoidable.  I thought my red plaid flannel shirt would be an attention grabber- but I was a walking wallflower amongst the stranger K.M folk.

(including a man wearing a red tie- sans shirt.)

Oh, Toronto. I was doing 140 the whole way home.

Only to paint my nails a dark,deep purple and type out another entry.

sigh.

 

“hey, ever played Guesstures?”

“bra strap?! Girdle?! Soutien?”

 

Muah!

N

champagne venting

but my heart still hurts.

I had a great night last night. After attending a baptism early Sunday afternoon, I dropped by my ex roommate’s new place for some drinks and good conversation. We drank a bottle of champagne and a bottle of wine.

Our conversation covered everything from personal goals, family history,school, money worries and our past jobs. It goes without saying that we discussed our relationships pretty thoroughly. After all, everything is connected to our relationships. We have both been involved for over three years.

While her relationship is slightly rocky at times…hard times, of course…my relationship started out on the rocks…and many double vodkas on the rocks…and has managed to smooth itself out.

We always seem to meet in the middle. And this is something I had missed. I know that when we are in each others company, we can talk for hours without getting upset with each  other. We can voice previously hidden concerns and bounce ideas off each other.

When we lived together, both of us were undergoing major construction. And what started out as the perfect prescription quickly caused a bit of suffocation. I required space and companionship and she was glad to provide it. God bless her for being a step ahead of me most of the time.

And god bless our homemade chicken wraps.

Onto the grim.

I  believe in reincarnation. I also believe that people should make the most out of life. Lately, the fact that the three other people I live with are constantly angry and playing silent treatment games with each other (I know, childish, right?) has been driving me a bit mad. We only have one life. Why spend it angry? Why spend it ignoring the people you share a roof with,especially?

I will never understand the people I live with. My feelings on their behaviour and my opinion on their personalities has no weight. It’s all what I  feel and think, anyways. But from 23 years of observation I can’t stand being part of this “family” and this “home”.

The word Home means different things to different people.

To me, Home is not where the heart is. Home is not where I rather lay my head down to sleep. Home is not where I laugh and sit at the table for dinner with the most important people in my life.

Home, for a while now, has been the place I rarely sleep. Home is where I am quiet. I will read, nap, make small meals for myself, etc. I do laugh while I am home. My dogs and their cute ways always leave me chuckling to myself. And my kittens definitely bring out small talk as  they sit and watch me go about my routines. I have not sat down for dinner with the people who I share a Home with in over 6 years.

I do live with the most important people in my life, but you would never know it. Because they rather not speak to me or one another. The have busy scheduales that demand too much of them. They do not see the need for “family dinners” even during Easter or Christmas.

Considering I come from a traditional Portuguese Roman Catholic family everything I have admited above seems outrageous. Believe it, world. At least in this case, the biproduct isn’t all that bad.

though my heart still hurts.

N