Looking back at photos of myself, I can't believe I change my hair so often.



















I'm looking a lot like this now:



Hats are my best friend at this point.

I am planning on doing my hair this week... boring black extensions with bangs or something to that effect. Before Hell City, though, I'm putting in silky loc extensions! I'm wicked excited about it. There is no point of having a mohawk if I never have any fun with it. I won't be able to stop taking pictures of myself, so expect more picture updates.

Yep, I'm going to Hell City this year. Any other SGC people going?

I'm supposed to be on a vaca from work, but I'll be in Tues and Wed. For those of you who don't know: Industrial Strip in Hammond, IN. It is a pretty cool joint. Check it out, mmk?



In other news, I've had to pee for about an hour, but I'm too stoned to make the journey. If I piss my pants out of sheer laziness, I will never smoke pot again. ::shakes fist at the bowl::

C'est la vie.

Look at all that clean flesh! Sometimes I look at pictures of myself before the tattoos and can't belive it.

I've got a serious case of the hungers.

If you could eat anything in the world right now, what would it be? (PG version, of course)

I would have a giant veggie burger and lady fingers from Alice and Friends Vegetarian Cafe, ginger tea, a root beer popscicle and a side of spinach salad with walnuts and garlic goat cheese. ::drools::

To my sisters and brothers in Tibet: my heart is your heart.

All I want to do today is kick back with a glass of Juicy Juice and play my 360. Instead, I have to go to work. Boo. My apartment smells like frankensence. I don't want to leave...

I work Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday this week. Come keep me company.

Oh, and I upgraded my studio space. There is enouh space for sewing, ceramics and woodwork! Yay!!!

I'm trying not to spend too much time on the internet... but I really can't help myself.


I'm web window shopping right now... I'm lusting after things that I can't spend money on right now.

Eh.

I'll be working Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday nights. Yay!

In other news, I updated my profile a tad bit. The artists lited as my favorites are just a small number of the ones I'm into right now. Google them! I promise you it won't be a waste of your time.

I went out last night, and had a ton of sober fun. I danced, flirted and spent some serious quality time with my bitches. There are pictures somewhere. I'll share when I get 'em.

I guess that is it. An update for the sake of updating.

I'm too lazy to masterbate, so I'm sitting here half-heartedly perving out on sets.

Meh.

Remeber when I had an internet crush on Malloreigh?
Now it is all about these ladies:

Who am I kidding... I still have an internet crush on Malloreigh.


Is 5:40 a.m. too early in the morning to wake someone up for sex? I don't want to be rude, but I seem to be incapable of wanking one out myself.

Whatever. I'll just go to sleep and dream about threesomes and summertime ferris wheel rides.

These are not my laws. These are not my rules.



I'm taking what I have and trying to make it fit.

Why the fuck won't it fit?

It's like I'm playing with one of those children's puzzles, where the object is to place the block into the corresponding slot. Square to square, circle to circle. All I have are octagons, and there is no corresponding slot.

Please don't mistake this for whinning... really, I'm not. I'm just trying to figure it all out. I keep thinking that I'm on the right path... and then, boom! Shock and awe, and I'm back at the beginning. I know what the problem is. Of course I do. I keep trying to shove the fucking octagon into the wrong slot. I know it doesn't fit, but I really, really wanna play.

I thought college was going to be my salvation. I would finally meet people who made me feel like I had a place in this game. Instead, I felt ashamed of who I was and where I came from, and pretty annoyed with the majority of the people I encountered. I would sit in class and think to myself, "This is the future of America". Kids who sat back in Sociology 101 rolling thier eyes and dismissing everything as leftist rhetoric, social activists who had never set a foot in the ghetto, black students from white suburbia who felt the need to prove how black they were by being caricatures, and some so blatantly stupid that it made my struggle to get accepted into Northwestern seem insignificant as fuck. "This is the future of America".

Every now and then I'd spot another octagon-holder. Sometimes we would acknowledge each other, but in most cases we would shove our mishappened shapes further into our bags and avoid eye contact. We were the ones who were different. We were the ones who were wrong.

Often I felt guilty. I was letting down the people who wanted me to succeed. I was letting myself down by not having the All American College Experience (that is how I used to think of college, too. It would flash in my head, just like that, ha). I was supposed to be facing my adversaties head on. A mixed-race girl from the hood makes it big at the Ivy League of the Midwest! That was my destiny. Unfortch, I don't do destiny.

Sometimes I'm dissapointed in myself for not becoming the hard-hitting journalist that I always thought I should be. Sometimes art seems too self-serving. I think back to when I was making a difference. Maybe I wasn't happy in my former activist life, but at least I was trying to change things. Isn't the goal to be happy, though?

I know that I have to stop banging this octagon around... I have to take responsibility for who I am. I have to find that middle ground between what I should do and what I want to do. I have to... DUN DUN DUUUUUUN... grow up. I'm back to the basics... the four noble truths and the eightfold path in full effect. I'm actively practicing and studying Buddhism again.

In short: Fuck it. I'll make my own game. Fuck your squares and circles. Octagons only, plz.

P.S. If you made it to the end of this possibly annoying and repeditive blog, you're totally my hero. My next set is dedicated to you, dearest reader.

Listen up, creepy asshats:

Don't send me messages that include the phrases "I'd like to hit it", "I'd like to tap that", "I'd like to fuck you" or any clever variations. It annoys me. This isn't MySpace. Grow up.

For the rest of you lovely SG members, I've got nothin' but love.

Have you checked out Starla's new set? You should. It is absolutely amazing.

I'm getting tattooed next month. Finally. I don't regret my shitty tattoos, but I definately learned a lesson or two since then and can't wait to get them covered. It is kind of comforting knowing that they will still be there... not visible, but there. I hate how they look, but they mean so much. Be on the look out for a new and improved Daven.

One of my favorite NPR shows is Wait, Wait Don't Tell Me. It is a news trivia show, and it makes me feel brilliant when I get most of the questions correct. Since I truly believe that I am growing dumb as I'm growing older, anything that gives me the illusion of having a giant brain is my kind of fun. Anyway... I learned that there is a newer version of the hated toy Tickle Me Elmo called Elmo Knows Your Name or something to that effect. (I would google it to be sure, but meh). Apparently, this little fucker can be programed with the information of the poor kid who has the unfortunate luck of getting such an annoying toy. Elmo will know the kid's name, favorite color, yada yada yada. One of these Elmonstrosities has either been programed to say this or is being misunderstood... because he appears to be saying "Kill James". Poor, unfortunate little James! You're all buddy buddy with Elmo... having tea parties and shit, and all the sudden Elmo wants you dead. To make matters worse, James' mom thought it prudent to alert the fucking media. Now he'll always be known as that kid whose mom called reporters about a defective toy... assuming Elmo doesn't murder young James before he is old enough to get taunted on the playground with the inevitable chorus of "Kill James!" In short, James' mom ruined his life, and Elmo is back. With a vengence.

Does anyone else remember the Talking Tina doll from the Twilight Zone? Ha.

I should probably go to sleep.

Yay for new hair!!!



Crappy pictures, but you get the gist.

I shot a couple of sets with Posh, Azula and Ravyn Sunday. Rockstar Muffin Steve was our photographer. It was a good time. I can't wait to see how they turn out!

I have a very big brain.

HUGE.