Music makes the world go round.
Its been with me through my travels
to the point that songs allow me to
travel back to certain locations.
The Pixies remind me of Vancouver
Dre.Dre Chronic 2000 reminds me of Paris
Cat Power reminds me of my recent trip in NYC
The Strokes remind me of Toronto
Robin S- Show me love reminds me of crusing the 416 with my family,
as my promises that this is the last time he would play it.
It's a beautiful thing that will be always with me as long as i have
the power of hearing. So in honor of my auditory sense
here are some tunes I would like to share.

1) Karma Police vs. Day in the Life- Radioheaad + The Beatles.

OFF AND AWAY

OFF & AWAY
NEXT STOP
DREAM LAND

I am not the best at making advanced plans or anything of that sort and I can see where some could get annoyed by this "disorganization" i have created around myself. However, I have decided to organize one grand thing in my life. As I was driving back from my first solo mission in St.Maarten today I decided that my 1st thing to add to my to-do list/bucket list is to go to every beach this island holds. There are 24 on the island and thus far I have been to four and swam in three this all being done within less than 2 weeks. I intend on spreading out the beach times over a good period one must not get bored of paradise. Although I feel that with the human condition boredom of beauty is defiantly possible. Here is a list of the beachs that I have crossed off my list.

The photograph above is from Mullet Bay beach, known for it's constant parties in the back and always conducting business in the front. It's a nice and calm beach with not too many obnoxious people parading/splashing about. You can also snorkel at this bad boy if you want OR surf, something else that is on my bucket list. It costs about $5.00 for a chaise/ lounge chair. For my thrifty ways that is a bit steep so I choose to lounge on my towel. More of the people, you know?

This is the beach down the hill from where my current crib is situated. I often frequent this beach everyday after work. This is also where Mother Nature bitch slapped me. She says she loves me and does it to teach me a lesson. Ooh love! It's a nice beach but is actually part of a resort and we often sneak in with our "special" priviledge of living above the place. If i swim far enough i can see my castle on the hill.

I didn't swim in this beach here yet, mainly because I did not have my swimming suit with me. Instead I hit up the attacthed hotel for a delicious brunch, one that I still crave and will make sure to go back to before I leave this beautious island. You can see St.Barths from a far, where the wind carries along the smell of expensive perfume and celebrity aires.

I hit this bad boy up today on my "solo" missions. Naturally when I was sitting there with my camera no planes came in. I put my camera back in the car because I did not want to call my dad and be like "hey remember that bad ass camera you soo kindly got me? Yeah well some punk is taking dirty shots of him and his girlfriend with it. They say thanks"
I left my camera in the car so I could splish splash about in the waters. The sun was heating up my skin and the water was calling my name, with a Caribbean accent of course.
When I was swimming though, the planes starting flying in. I did not see anything this size though. Have no fear, I shall organize a sighting and snap away as if my life depended dearly on it.

So today was my first day roaming alone. Which is interesting because I have come to cherish my freedom as if it were a 24kt diamond ring. Before I left I felt nervous as if my outgoing self had gone up and left me. I hopped into the car and drove down the hilly streets all the while blasting cheesy 80's tunes that were playing on the radio. I felt like I was in a movie, perhaps Weekend at Bernies 3. This time sans a dead man. I drove to the French side in hopes of finding a beach called Grand Case. After many hills and a couple of round abouts I was lost and found myself at a cul de sac. I snapped some shots as Chakka Khan blasted from the radio. I asked a cute gentleman which way I needed to go to. He directed me but I am horrible at paying attention when given directions. I smiled and walked away pretending like I knew what he said. I just remember "apres une grande pointe rounde, prendre une droite". I got back in the car and decided I would just go with the flow. I passed many sights that were worthy of my cameras lens but the roads/ people driving behind me did not allow for this to happen. I ended up in Marigot, the French Capital. It was somewhat of a ghost town. I suppose b/c it was a Sunday and well who works on Sundays? I snapped some more shots befriended a marble colored cat and hopped back into my car. This time blasting Soca and dance hall tunes. I was heading to Maho beach, the beach beside the airport. I swam and snapped some shots, all the while live music played beside me playing Bob Marley and Barrington Levy covers. It was quite a nice and comforting feeling, sitting alone on the beach as i stared into the abyss that is Atlantic ocean.

Life is many things,
and I am glad to be situated under the wings of it's beauty.
I have come to appreciate this side only by falling under it's wing of pain and loss.
I know with one, the other lurks close.
Making me appeciate all that is.

DANCE TOO MUCH FOOD IN THY PANTS

Don't be mistaken by my EasT African frame but food happens to be my good friend.

We go way back. Sometimes its sweet to me sometimes it sour. But in the end our friendship grows,

especially when I happen to be bored. Along my recent travels I have been delighted to look down on

many delicious platters of food waiting to make their voyage into their new home; my stomach.

So since sharing doth be caring. Here goes some images on grub I've taken along the ways.

My mother is a master of all things delicious. Ask my friends who often enjoy raiding my mothers fridge. This little concoction here is some Somali rice with a fruity salad.

The table was set and ready for some mean Sunday lounging and munching. We even brought out the good plates and cutlery.

We hit up a delicious restaurant in Montreal's Jean Talon area for some Pakistani food. It was halal and they made a mean delicious buttered chicken. We went as a celebration for my graduation, my family took up pretty much half the restaurant. We roll deep. There was plenty of leftovers to last me half the week.

It was a lazy day in Montreal and I thought I would spoil myself. So, I made myself some chocolate chip vegan crepe. Topped of with strawberries and blueberries. The icing on the crepe was when I added caramel sauce. It gotten even better when I sat under the sun in my back terrace and played "creepy" neighbor as I watched everyone doing "productive" stuff.

The cats joined me making it a lazy threesome.
OOOh Vieux St.Lo, how i heart thee. My sister Shamso was visiting so I thought it would be best to hit up my favorite spot before departing the ile de Montreal. Shamso ordered the spinach omellete, a classic if you may ask me. While I went for my favourite cheddar apple crepe. First thing when I get back to the 514/438 will be to buy myself one of these. Even if I have a meager 10.00 to my name.

This was a glorious day. I felt like I was at daycamp. After plant shopping at Canadian Tire. I went back to my friend Rachelle's house were we indulged in leftovers from a Fathers day BBQ she had. I heart leftovers. We finished the meal with ice cream. I feel that my 10 year old self would be jealous of the life I sometimes live.
Et voila. 

My cousin Aden had acquired a penchant for cooking/baking. My last morning in New Paltz he made waffles with chocolate chips melted on top. I often tell him he's gonna be a casanova in due time. He's only 15 and is already 6 feet something. Watch out girls here he comes. One morning or should I say afternoon I awoke from my slumber. Being the gentleman that he is, he offered to make me a mojito, virgin of course because its not right to make underage kids to make you drinks...or is it? Anyways homeboy even went into the garden to get me fresh mint then he cut up the limes one by one. He also made brownies/ brownie cupcakes one day. He's coming to St.Maarten in t-minus two weeks. I can't wait to see what he concocts this time.

MY PATIENCE IS THINNER THAN MY WAISTLINE

EXCUSE ME WHILE I KISS THE SKY

I feel like I am currently at adult day camp.
seriously, my life mirrors one that I lived when
I was a wee Bihi. I woke up today and hit Mullet bay
again . and like always it was quite enjoyable. It began to rain as we were splish splashing about. It was an interesting contrast and also seeing people getting out of the water because they feared they would get wet. OOh people they are quite the smart ones. I also, enjoyed wearing goggles and looking out for fishies that swam all about. I then headed back to my new abode and went straight to bed. Swimming can tire one out, ya know? I slept for a couple of hours only to be awoken by the sweet aroma of chicken on ze bbq. And here I am.
I made a new video. to these new puritans, numberology. I picked the war theme because when listening to the song, i always imagined the pit-patter of soliders running across barren fields as they try to save their lives. i am not a warrior and carry little character of ever being one. My life is too fragile to fight for someone else. But i commend those who can, to a certain extent that is.

I saw, PUBLIC ENEMIES. last night. It was pretty good, the choice of camera technique was kinda shotty at times. they used this RAW high definition technique that reminded me of this cheap soap opera that plays on CBS. Besides that the acting was stellar and the muscial score was on point. Its not everyday I get to hear "the man I love by billie holiday" within the public space. The film also confirmed the sexy factor that is Mr.Depp. My cousin and I drove back talking about him and her husband teased us like we were two love struck teenagers. With our without his good looks that man can act. I also really liked the fashion of the 1930's. It made me want to solely dress up in fine garb like silk dresses and chiffon skirts.
Perhaps I shall. The shopping here is not as fresh as its crystal blue wat. Seeing as I heart me some vintage I doubt the Carribean has anything to offer in that area. but c;est la vie. I packed enough clothes to last me for a while.
I have been lacking in the photo department as of lately, mainly because I am lazy and also because apparently this place is slightly shotty on crime. I dont feel like having a bulls-eye over my head you know?
The culture here is interesting and raw at times. There is a big contrast between locals and foreigners and then another contrast between the foreigners who live here and those who are on vacay. I currently fall within the two. Neither one nor the other.
I think this adventure will hit me towards the end of August when I dont have to worry about summer leaving me. Rather my worries will be placed under the fact that it is Hurricane season and the destructive path of nature. At this moment I rather take that than winter.
It appears my skin is getting darker than my sense of humour. Which I am ok with. I have attempted to apply sunscreen but apparently not enough to protect me from the UV ways of the sun.
whats a gal to do.
Tomorrow i wake up to the reality of the work world.
HERE I COME

Do my somali roots show my natural color?

NOTHING LESS THAN SCANDALOUS

call me a hypochondriac but i'm pretty sure I had swine flu today.
I was overcome by a sneezing attack as well as out of nowhere warmth all over my body.
On top of my recent travels. I really thought I was going to add
"the time i got swine flu" to my list of stories to tell at dinner parties.
I popped back some homeopathic medicine, ate some Indian food and BAM
I kicked that random virus like my name was Rambo.


Today was awesome. My cousin spoiled me( everyday is my birthday) and took me
to a fancy breakfast spot at a hotel where the ocean was our backdrop. I filled up my
plate as if it was my last breakfast ever. It was a buffet, so how could I resist. Towards the end
I thought I was about to give birth to a digested salmon and bagel/mini-chocolate muffins
baby. I would name it kAnYe. A random kitten was even kicking it there for a bit but it had to
leave for it's 11:00 massage.

We then drove home and the clockwork power outage went down. It's soo hot here that people pump the air conditioners which equates to POWER OUTAGE 2009.
We hit up the beach where I felt like Kate Bonsworth in Blue Crush, but sans one blue eye and one brown eye. I discovered the ocean with my trusty googles and a huge grin. It was cool to see the ground move as the waves came in. Every time I saw something move, I thought I was going to be the next contestant on Jaws but to my luck my big time appearance shot did not occour. I think I'm going to go surfing for my bday. WHY NOT? it's either that or bump elbows with the stars on St.Barts maybe my best-friend John Galliano will be vacaying there.
Me: Oh John! it's been so Long:
John: Ooh you have to came to Paris, darling.
Me: Well darling I would, but i vowed when the stopped the concord
I couldnt live with the 7hour flight. It's either one hour, or nothing at all.
John: Well we'll just bring Paris to you zen. darling.
Magically snaps his freshly done nails and shits out the Eiffel Tower
Me: FOR ME JOHN! YOU SHOULDNT HAVE

we could talk or not talk, and still find things to not talk about. As I hover over his 5 foot nothing stature. Saying "HUh" what was that you said? Sorry the elevation from your 57" heels make it hard to hear.
Seriously though. I feel like we could click like carbon bonds.
Maybe one day. If not, thats cool. My hooya thinks i'm cool

(HOOYA = MOMS IN soMALi)

I'm trying to connect with my Somali roots. So i've picked up buccaneering, driving stolen Saudi yachts and also I have extensively studied Iman's career.
No seriously, as i live it up on the dutch side I feel the need to reconnect with my East African people. I met an 8 year old today and homegirl had 6 languages under her Osh Kosh belt. It made me feel like I was lagging behind.
HERE I AM GETTING BACK TO THE BASICS.
my cousin tells me I have a mean Canadian accent when I speak. What can I say? I've lived in the land of the maple tree and constant Eh? for so long it's touched my East African tongue.
Maybe I'll take up a career as the Somali Dora the Explorer
but instead I'll be Ayan the Al-Shabib leader taking kids down the war torn streets of Mogadishu
as they learn Somali. as my cousin Farah drives around in his 1987 Land Rover.

Today's lesson kids.
halkan-here
iska waraan-how are you?
hayso-have
haamri-beer
maalintii-per day

borso- purse

tHIS is the Somali cat appareently they are the Christian Louboutins of the cat world. No joke. My orange tabby is saving up his pennies to one day become like one of these bad boys. My dad says there are no biggie based on the fact they run around rampant on my countries once beautiful streets. So, if you need a quick buck and own an Ak-47. You may have a good career in collecting these bad boys and breeding them to women like her. They are probably ostracized by all the other cats and are constantly asked if they fur is real and if they are from Ethopia...no wait Eritrea. No wait i give up.
I heard they also like henna Qaat and eating moos(bananas) with their lasagnas and you know they dont mess with Purina. Nothing less than that organic ish.

i'M OFF like a prom dress
toottles

TURN UP DA BASS

SONG DU JOUR:
MAJOR LAZER: PON DE FLOOR
and just B/C i like you here
is another treat

Silvio Ecomo & Chuckie - Moombah (Afrojack Remix)

the Caribbean sun warms my spirit making me feel
more baked than a delicious batch of chocolate chip cookies.
I came during low season, aka the hottest time of the year,
aka hurricane season. It gets so hot that power outages
are more common than loud American tourists(jk).
This place is simply beautiful to the point that
it has yet to hit me
Today we drove around, ending up at a beach
that shares the same title as my favorite hairstyle,
"Mulletbay", i thought it would be long in the back
and short in the front, but Nope, it is actually named after
the fish that fill their waters. I forgot how it feels to be in a tropical water. I was most surprised by it's salty taste, that make my skin and hair taste like it was seasoned to perfection. After kicking it at the beach for several hours we then hit up a local fish spot. Where the owner goes daily to catch your dinner and lunch. I tried the mahi mahi which was a first and was succulent with it's bbq'd flavour.
It looks kinda mad, but don't be fooled, remember that lesson your always told
about it's not on the outside that counts but whats on the inside? This bad boy personifies this.
So maybe next time you meet someone you don't think is not that hot,
throw them on the barbie with some delicious seasoning.
I kid, cannibalism was soo 2007.

On to other things. My last night in NYC was entertaining but I always expect nothing less in that city. My homeboy Zach and I roamed the streets of Manhatten. We hit up the public library where he scored himself a date, and possible future lady friend. We then went to get some delicious papaya juice, which was the appetizer for my favourite chicken and waffles spot, "Piece of Chicken" but to my suprise they are closed on Mondays to clean. How much cleaning can one little small place do? I don't know, but at least you know cleanliness is a priroity for them. We then found a little diner. We walked like crazy because I was trying to save my Metro card for things that were unwalkable. We then hit up the Highline, which is an outdoor space/park built over an abandoned elevated railroad. It provides a great combination between nature within an inescapable urban space. It is called a "agri-tecture" mixing agriculture with architecture. It's made by a architecture posse; diller scofidio and renfro. I was excited to see the place because
I had seen a special on PBS with the architects. They had also done this crazy cool water muesum in Switzerland called the BLUR building. They make some crazy cool shiznit. And have an plethora of projects that are futuristic and fit appropriately within Aldous Huxley's A Brave New World.
Wilco, was performing at Coney Island. I was hesitant to go well because I didnt know who they were and wasnt willing to pay $50bucks to find out. I went regardless because I wanted to check out Coney Island and my friend was quite persistent on that we try to find $20 tickets. We arrived with a mission, Zach talked to everyone and their mama trying to find tickets. He was sucessful and got himself a ticket for $20.00. It was my turn to try my luck, he worked it for me as I roamed around and took various photographs. We were standing infront of the stadium as Zach yelled "anyone have an extra ticket for sale"
I remember looking back from my camera and seeing a man walk passed Zach and simply just hand him a ticket, no questions asked, and sans prix. Two police officers were standing beside and were dumbfounded by the generosity of this man. He simply just walked by, handed us his ticket and walked away with little expectation of us giving him anything. I think he renewed the officers belief in humanity.
We headed into the show, I had no expectations but it turned out to be worth the Free price tag that was associated with my ticket. The vibe was good and the tunes were even better, it was outdoors as well. I couldn't help but schmooze it up as we waited for the group to start. My victims of conversation were two photographers, i remember asking one if he thought that J-lo was unappreciated as an artist, he thought i was serious . We chatted we laughed and the music began to play. I was cold because the wind was blasting through my silk dress. I managed to sandwhich myself between Zach and his friend Alex. They were like two snuggly fleece blankets, eliminating my cold spell. The band played and they threw on some cameos like Feist and Grizzly Bear.
They did three encores and bounced. Off into the night. My shuttle was coming at 6am so I had little intentions of sleeping, knowing that I would probaby sleep in. I chatted it up with a subway worker named Mike. Took his picture and got him to write his info in my beloved journal.
I got distracted, like usual and stupidly left my journal tat was 4 pages from being done on the subway, L train to be exact. When I realized this mistake it was too late. I was overcome by a feeling of being vulneerable by allowing some complete stranger access into my personal thoughts and experiences. I must say that there is nothing I can do about it. ANd it is out there for whoever found it to do what they want wuth. Maybe they'll read it, or maybe they'll throw it out. Who knows, who careS. But it reminded me of waterboy where Adam Sandlers coach gets his golden play book stolen by the mean coach.
I hopped on my JFK shuttle it was funny,it drove around the streets that I had become familiar with by getting lost. Playing back my past experiences. I arrived at JFk with a hunger in my stomach, it all went smoothly and before I knew it I was on my plane watching the International with Clive Owen. As I took advantage of the unlimited snacks and beverages. He is defiantely Jolie Laid. His badass demeanour makes him a sure "I WOULD MAKE SEXY WITH YOU" candidate. I noticed in this movie he rarely blinks, maybe he's a cyborg. Just putting it out there. I then chatted it up with a cute retired couple from NY. I am a fan of New Yorkers. or at least the ones I have met thus far. Like my homeboy cab driver SAMUEL he was 79 years old and was still a latin lover. He said next time I am in the city he'd take me out for lunch. Platonic of course. He told me he doesn't date young women, goes against his ethics. He also told me that I was wasting my time by not living in NYC, apparently my fortune and my chariot (his cab) await me. I commence my working world next week, oh how I have attempted to procrastinate on joining the real world. SOmehting I will attempt to do for....well ever!
tootles as they say.

THIS IS ALITTLE SOMETHING THAT I LOVE TO DO.
This maybe my new favourite.but who knows.
i notcied that it has an underlining Alfonso Ribiero theme.

tales from suburbia

tales from suburbia

I am currently sitting in my 7 year old cousins  mini plush Bratz chair as she does my toe nails for the third time in one week. We are watching a repeat of Hannah Montana, we watched the same episode last time she was doing my nails. It's funny she is the new childhood deity, personally she looks like a 30 year old house wife, but that's just my critical side coming out to shine. 

 apparently this dude here likes her just as much as my 7 year old cousin, but i guess a bit more because she doesn't go to this extreme. Every scene in this show breaks out into a badly orchestrated song that relates to the issues of her life, like which boy to choose. As a 15 year old I often had to decide such things. No wait, I was lanky and awkward. Isn't it funny that the word awkward is itself awkward, i feel that it properly represents its definition, just a side-note.  I can only imagine five 30 something old men sitting around a board room writing the script for this show, asking "is it still hip to use the word hip?". Truth be told I would consider writing for this show. How can you call me a sell-out when I had nothing to sell?

OK, so check it before you reck it. I have roughly four days before I head to the land of tropicana tanning oil and fat cruise ship enthusiasts. Perhaps I will maintain an air of  mystery and make up a new story. probably not because well that takes more effort than necessary. 

I can't help but imagine all the fun things that await me there, like an endless summer and palm trees. 

this is the beach right beside the airport. There is a warning sign that says danger, airplanes may cause injuries.  I can't wait to hit up the beaches, the last time I was in a tropical area was well before Somalia was a destroyed nation, that was nearly 18 years ago. So my African skin longs for heat, and a warm tropical location.

I am  going to raid my aunts fridge that is plentiful with delicious things

that as a student I was unable to eat. 

In a sentimental mood.

The music of Billie Holiday often sings the sentiments of my heart. 

She successfully captures my highs and my lows. And it is to her that I carry

 the spirit of romance that I so often attempt to renounce, like a dog chasing its tail, it always comes back to this game.

--------------------------------------------->

aS MUch as i attempt to disguise the reality

I am a hopeless romantic hiding under the disguise of 

a disconnected fool. It is this spirit that I disguise 

that inspires my endless rants aka poetry to some.

It always comes back to this,

Where I give up on the hopes

of love knocking on my front door

It seems as if only the lucky

are worthy, and not those 

graced with it's namesake.

--------------------------------------------->

May.28th 2009

THE BEAUTY OF NONE

AND THE POWER OF ONE

MAKES ME APPRECIATE

OUR PAST SHARED STATE,

AS THE MEMORIES LINGER IN THE 

AIR LIKE A STALE FLATUS.

--------------------------------------------->

APRIL 20TH

one day at school as I waiting for my friend, I couldnt help but ease drop on these three mean girls as they talked shit about their roomate/best friend forever. Their fair weathered ways inspired this poem. They reminded me of the girls who made growing up a pain in the arse.

Their words fly out like daggers

stabbing thoses they deemed to be their

friends inadmissible 

proving that friendship is only existent

in regards of proximity and convenience.

PARLIAMENT

While I was in Ottawa I was overcome by the need to go and use the nations capital as my backdrop for a photoshoot. I rounded up the troops ( my friend sonya and my sister shamso) and we hit the desolate downtown streets. It was about 12am and no one could be found. Since we were infront of the Parliament the RCMP came and dropped us un petite visit. They lurked in the background as we shot photographs. I kinda looked at it as a free bodyguard. I am sure we made their boring night. Here is the results of that night.

OLD TINGS MADE NEW

I found this old inserts on an old internet site that I used to use as a journal, 4 yrs ago.

I thought i should bring two and two toether making one big happy family.

August 31, 2005

“So many fish there in the sea, you wanted him, he wanted me.” -The Strokes

On the road again. Back to Montreal, a recurring event in my life. This time I’m heading towards my second year, a more mature and responsible year I’m told. This departing was pretty different, more emotional. I guess these past 4months I grew close with my family and my friends. I almost broke out into tears as the bus began to head towards Montreal. Today was a good day hung out with Kelly in the morning then went to Hannahs’ to say my peace and went for dinner with Zac, mmm Baan Thai. In between all of that I slaved away at cleaning my house and packing. Ive decided my ultimate life includes; traveling, eating, music and fashion and some exercise in between, is that asking for too much?

Four months sure does fly by quickly and a lot happen within these last few months.

Went to New York then, Greenlake then Montreal for my birthday then back to Montreal for Underpressure (break-out into David Bowie…..now) A lot of nights of not doing too much, but in retrospect those nights weren’t too bad, no point in hating the now.

Im looking forward to killing time by decorating my new apartment. It’s weird every time I’ve been to this apartment I was always a guest but now that’s my house. I’ll be without my computer for two-weeks….will I be able to live without downloading copious amounts of music? Hopefully, but I do have a laptop to give me my computer fix. Class starts Tuesday….French is my first class.. Oui je peux parle le francais. It’s just been a while that’s all…hey maybe I’ll be rewarded with a trip to Paris, again, SHOTGUN!

-----------------------------------------------------------

Its funny to look at this through time. I lived in the splendid little abode for close to 5 years. Mostly based on the fact that I could never find a place quite like it within Montreal. It had a touch of NYC within Montreal. Those stairs provided me with a daily workout. My personal "pharmacist" would often compliment my old detailed staircase as we climbed 2 stories up to my humble abode.

It's a rainy day in NY and I must say I am somewhat bored, and feel like a chicken cooped up in it's cage. Moments like this I fear my own society because well I myself can cause the most damage on myself. I tried to read but lost patience, i am currently practicing my comprehension of the french language. SOmething i feel is like climbing mount everest, I feel like my knowledge is at Camp 2, regardless of how much time I've spent studying the language. Perhaps I am in need of a sexy French man to help me out, because these videos I am currently watching remind me of being a bored 13 year old in Mr. Rousseau's French Class but just sans Les Miserables. Since Mr.Rousseaus teaching techniques failed me, I feel that this MR. Perhaps can help. In'Shallah. because he is DELICIOUS!!!!

Insert wanderlust here

Today i job shadowed my aunt in preparations for my new job as a realtor. (which lets be honest is completely random!!!)

Her colleagues thought I was 15-16 years old. Which kinda confused me 

because I did not know if I should take that as a compliment 

or as an insult, seeing how i am 6 year older, give or take.

Age is such a wierd topic, especially amongst the XX chromosome, 

I doubt we're born with this complex, rather it builds within us

as time begins to grow. I think it's funny because the other night

someone guessed that I was 26 years old, 4 years my senior. make up your mind people. 

I remember reading an article about age in TIME OUT NY

and they asked a guy about his age, he said that he often lies and

says he's older because then people often respond, "whoa you look really 

good for your age." I hate to have a bitter taste in my mouth, but sometimes people

can be stupid. 

Regardless of the fact, I don't really care about my age,

actually I am pretty excited to get older because it means

that I am getting closer to actualizing all of my daydreams,

you know the ones that I constantly/obsessively think about when I get bored.

Yet, I am aware that there is a difference between expectation and reality,

Something my buddy Henry James wrote in my novel of the moment Portrait of a lady.

I was recommended this book by one of my sisters, whose literary opinion is something 

I have always trusted. Even though at times I've wanted to put the book down because of 

its slow progress. Regardless, I am into it now and I must say I can relate to the protagonist(ms.isable archer) as she changes and attempts to hold on to her independence. Side-note, she's got some pretty good pimp game, within one day she's gotten two proposals, oh no she didnt.  There is also a movie if your not into reading, i know you have to sit down and take time from your busy life of twitter etc etc. It has Nicole Kidman whose aight, and John Malkovich who well is awesome. I feel that mostly because of my respect for Spike Jonze's debut film Being John Malkovich. Imagine being surrounded by yourself, left right and center?

wats with the ferret in the corneR?

The other day I was pretty much a zombie, 100%. I decided it would be a "good" idea not to sleep before I took the 9-hour train from Montreal to NY. Good idea....not. Instead, I packed my last minute things and made pancakes and an omelette for myself, my sister and her friends, who were fast asleep.  I also sat on my balcony as I let my memories of Montreal play in my mind like a slow motion picture show. I miss that cities "je ne sais quoi" feeling that can be ooh so charming. It was also raining which made it as appropriate as playing "Vitamin C's Graduation" at the end of your high school grad. I miss that place that they call the 514 even though it hasn't even been a week yet. 

On another note, I sometimes feel that the internet is over rated. I pretty much only visit the same 6 sites per day. I can't help but imagine that there is this super cool underground world existent within the internet that I am unaware of. Perhaps I am being paranoid or maybe I am just onto something. 

Don't even get me started on the idea of the space and the internet because that is insane. If this is a desired conversation please bring me 2 cafe latte's because it;s gonna take some time. It's pretty much the ultimate heterotopia.

FOUCAULT YOU MAN! THIS BE BONKERS!

Anyways, I feel like right now, I am close to writing the end of a chapter in my memoir (or maybe it's chapters 18-22?). This is more figuratively than literally but I am sure I shall store the memories and moments I made from the past 5 years within my mind for when I become old and become bored of my own society. Which will lead me to writing everything down in hopes of fighting dementia and well boredom. I try not to ponder the things that await me in "Club Tropicana" as my uncle would call it. Perhaps adventures on a yacht discovering the Antilles? mmmmmmmsexy

lost thoughts

Saturday August 25th 2007.

I seem to consider that something else awaits me

I seem to contemplate to an endless state
That something better, something greater
Is out there waiting for me.

Each breath takes me one step closer
While all of my previous decisions and actions
will one day accumulate to this unknown moment of greatness.

NEXT TO COME

SUCH IS LIFE

What is reality? Is it the thing that faces me directly on?
Where I am unable to avert my attention away from, or even my existence?
I sometimes feel trivialized within the grand scheme of things.
Where an audience will emerge from the darkness as the studio lights turn on,
Awakening me from my false reality.
One written by bigwig directors targeted towards a zombie studio audience
with little to no regards of the emotional scars that will linger deep withiN.

Ode to my future ex-boyfriend

I long for the day where I will stand tall by your side with pride

As we fight to free ourselves against

These shackles at our feet

I dream of the day you take me aside to share

The sweet secrets of a lovers’ kiss that can only be

Interrupted by our childish giggles.

I fear the day that we watch it all fade away with the tide

Leaving hollow ghosts of the memories we once shared

As the laughter and joy become tears of sorrow

am I just a hopeless to wait for

the moment our paths shall cross

Or am I just a fool

to believe that we'll

live happily

Ever after

?

MOBY KNOWS DICK SQUAT

MOBY KNOWS DICK SQUAT

the confirmation of my departure

has yet to be confirmed

forwarding with little hopes of finalizing this arduous task

in fear of the consequences once i expire

truth be told

i long for this moment to be lost

through the hands of fate

allowing me to appreciate

for a minute longer

the beauties hidden within the grotesque

if you listen carefully

you can hear

the sound of her heels

as she slowly approaches

to take what we earned

as she places our souls

in the waiting room

better known as

the river of styx

waiting upon

Phleygas's final judgement

i hope to look back

on this day

and through

retrospection

i hope to further

understand this unexplained

state

where each step i take

proves to play out my fate

showing me as the joker

who attempts to run

from the truth

because under this make-up

i am just fortunes fool.

face swap

FACE SWAP! NEXT ON FOX

Does anyone remember the 1997 Nicolas Cage/ John Travolta film Face off?
Where an avant-garde surgeon swaps the face of the "bad guy" Nicolas Cage for "good guy" police officer John Travolta. After the surgery all chaos ensues because well how can we tell them apart?

Travolta's family is placed within a state of turmoil because well check it, daddy just aint daddy anymore. Anways there reason why I brought this up is because well the surgery finally happened in the place i call the "real world". Ohio, i place i often associate with as being lil Somalia and well where the Rock n Roll Hall of fame. The United States had their first face transplant yesterday and no it was not for vain cosmetic reasons. The women who the surgery was performed on experienced the douche-baggary of others, when her husband shot her in the face. In this modern world we sure find interesting ways to say I love you. Anywho, they transfered 80% of a dead womens face onto this womens face. "
Ms Culp's injuries had left her without bone support and unable to eat and breathe without a tube in her windpipe. Eleven surgeons performed the 22-hour operation, which leaves her able her to perform normal functions now.Surgeons had to incorporate muscles, nerves, skin and blood vessels from a woman who had recently died."

Sorry I had to include a photograph just to show you how insane the transformation is. I am always amazed by thinking also how this surgery will develop and perhaps become perfected.
Like always, Les Francaises were ahead of the game and performed the worlds first face transplant surgery three years ago on a women who had be mauled by her dog.
What is crazy about this operation is that, the new face morphs based on the fact that it forms around the already existent muscle structure and tissues.
But some experts warn of possible psychological side-effects which may include remorse, disappointment, or grief and guilt towards the donor.
So this means that Face Off, well is quite impossible. Unless Mr.Cage and Mr.Travollta have exactly the same facial structure. Who knows maybe the dudes hit up the same Plastic Surgeon. Hollywood, a place where not only do you share plastic surgeons but you also share wives.