I Am Racist.

And you will be too.

I have a theory that most of you might not agree with but quite franky I don't give a fuck because this my blog with my hot men and it's mine mine mine.

Jewish guys are freaking hot.

And I think it's because they're Jewish that they're hot.

You want proof now, eh? Well baby, you know what I say : I'm gonna bring it.

The Orgasmic Evidence begins here :

Marc Jacobs

Pre-Makeover : Hot.

Post-Makeover : Still hot.

Not enough? Baby, I'm bringing on the Jewish motherload.

Zac Posen

James Franco.

Didn't think he was Jewish, eh?

Jean Sarkozy.

Oh, sweet heaven catch me now.

I just do not get tired of this boy.

Gabe Saporta.

And finally, you have never seen this boy like I have. He is one of my favourite SNL comedians and has the most gorgeous laugh I have ever heard (sorry, Gabey.) I'm proud to introduce to you my latest Jewish obsession.

Andy Samberg.

He is unbelievably delicious.

Looks so damn fine in a suit too!

My all-American all-Jewish darling.

Got a problem still? Get lesbian.

Cheers.

A Candied Heart, But A Fort Of Steel.

And nobody sees it but me.

Something has been bugging me lately. And I'm that sort of person who plays matador as soon as I can so I can dissolve that problem from my life. It's a weird problem - one that I have no idea how to solve, or even what direction to plan any action to.

Here goes.

I need someone to explain this relationship to me. Something made of sarcasm, teasing, name-calling, shoving, rudeness, insensitivity and basically anything everything that would mean a really sour connection. It involves two individuals with stark differences, one with a larger-than-life personality and the other with a penchant for being quiet, introverted and almost reclusive.

And yet it's something I just can't rid myself of. Something I don't want to rid myself of. Maybe because I have never experienced it before, where both parties want different things from each other, but each of us have no idea what it is. I like it somehow and yet I can't figure it out. The very apparent conflict seems to reach out to me - deep down - like as if the person cares about me enough to make a joke about me and know that I will laugh it of.

So it just seems like we're kinda close. We're just two close friends in a weird relationship.

Wrong.

The thing is - we're not the least bit close. Now that I think of it, we hardly have anything to talk about. We do listen to the same music, just that one of us more than the other. And we don't like the same things, watch the same shows, and one of us has fun in her spare time while the other prefers to work. And neither do we understand our individual emotional pasts.

So, what is it then? I usually have an answer at this point of the post, but for the first time - it's safe to say.

I have no clue.

Back to my supposed problem. Lately, this person seems to be shutting themselves out from everyone again, just as they were at the beginning. And this person has become more insensitive and condescending, and simply a little bit of a headache lately. I may have an idea about why this is happening, but your guess is as good as mine. And the biggest issue is :

I can't do anything about it.

This person is slipping away from me in front of my eyes, but my limbs are bound; my mouth gagged. And I don't even know what is dragging this person from me. Neither do I know how to get them back. And like I said, I can't afford to have this person slip away from our friendship. It's sad to think about what it would be like without this person. Also that despite the seemingly rocky friendship, I can feel a connection. I can feel something that draws me towards the person.

There is too much chemistry between us to let go. Oh, the irony.

And, oh dear - that wall! This person has such a fort built around them, that if you combined the Romans, Nazis and Russian mafia into a military coalition to penetrate it, they might actually give up their jobs. It's as if this person is protecting themselves from something isn't even there, but feels more secure about being emotionally-detached.

But don't get me wrong. Deep down - past the conflicts and issues between us - lies a really good soul. A person with the kindest heart and is sweet because they want to be. And it perplexes me that no one sees this but me. And that it hasn't bothered anyone as much as it has bothered me.

Someday, I'm going to break down that wall. And I'm going to show everyone that there is certainly more than what meets the eye.

Time to show that military coalition how it's done.

Cheers.

UPDATE : Birthday Registry Time!

So. I have new additions.

As many of you do not know, Cobra Starship's new album drops sometime this year. I am getting mixed responses to when the actual release date is - but it has the most orgasmic name ever :

If The World Is Ending, We Are Throwing A Party.

Exactly why it's the next item on my birthday registry.

Joining that is something that I will completely treasure forever and ever if I do in fact get this for my birthday. The closest thing to have a bit of Gabe Saporta on my body.

It's a Cobra Starship band tee.

And finally. This needs no explanation.

I want a Gizmo.

I rest my case.

So that makes :

If The World Is Ending, I'm Throwing A Party.

Cobra Starship t-shirt (To avoid crap - details will be provided later.)

A Gizmo.

Cheers.

Evolution Divine.

Turns out it's wasn't a good weekend after all.

So let's just say it started out pretty well. With me achieving what I wanted (nearly what I wanted) from me studying - or what I prefer to call it, sheer torture - and me celebrating the fact that it actually pays off. But then I ask myself, at the cost of what?

At the cost of : breaking my head over the tension, mending my wounds caused by the strain of being stretched beyond my means, and perhaps finding a small space through it all for an escape to my dreams.

And most of all, I now know what it feels like to be so pressured for something where the worst part is the fact that it's self-imposed. And every morning I don't feel like leaving my bed. I think to myself, I could just lie here all day and let all my worries wash over me; I don't need to attend to them or have them consume me for just - one - day.

But that can't happen. The worries would just drown me while I'm asleep.

She's says that I shouldn't have to hope for a day where I don't have to cry. I shouldn't have to have tears streaming down my face everytime I talk to her. I shouldn't have the stress of it stop me from sleeping every night.

She says it shouldn't have to be this way.

And yet it is. It's happening so often I don't even remember the last time I was free. I can't remember the last time I was okay.

But she tells me to be strong. And to look at my achievements and build on it. Like the fact that I went through a whirlwind of an emotional experience and survived it. The fact that as bitter as it was, I learnt from it. The fact that I was strong enough to turn away when I knew the going was bad when she knew she couldn't have. The fact that I haven't tried to permanently escape from my problems with the swipe of a knife.

The fact that I'm still alive today, dealing with everything and telling her about it.

But to me : So what? Anything I do is never good enough. Anything I try my hardest to fulfill is never a success big enough to give myself some space. Anything I want is not as important as anything I need.

I think this way because it's the only way I know how. I have never known to congratulate myself unconditionally or feel good about what I have worked hard for without any clause. There is always something that follows success - and it's usually another challenge I don't want. A challenge so big that I could get lost in it and never escape.

And that's all I'm living. A bottomless stress-pool.

Just when you think you're done, you sink even deeper.

Cheers.

Lipstick Lullabies.

This is sorry for the last time.


So. I have a thought. Here's a list of responses I recently received online to this question :


Describe me in five words.


crazy wacky funny jolly complicated
Witty. A little crazy. Smart. Funny. Sarcastic
Talkative, Entertaining, Witty, Smart, Pretty eyes!
Daring, Pretty eyes, Playful, Smart, Hyper
funny, a good listener, active, deep, smart
CRAZY.wacky.horny.chatterbox and smartypants
ROCK! Crazy! Funny! intelligent! BITCH
Crazy bitch slore worldsbiggestspeakers gabesaporta'swife


Do we see a trend here? I think so. So here's what you probably asking yourself right about ... now.


Why on earth is she making such a big deal??


This is why. I'm having a little identity crisis. Although I have met alot of new people and kept them talking to me with my current personality, I seem to feel slightly disappointed with myself. It's basically because there is really no word up there in that list that describes a character that is much deeper - and a little more substantial. None of them describe something can only be found very far within me.


None of them mean that there is something inside of me that people appreciate.


And it also means that it's all superficial. Problem? When people discover that there really isn't anything more than what they have found, they move on. Which is the primary problem with being so outspoken. It's all assumed to be superficial eventhough there's probably a myriad of swirling emotions beneath you.


Take this analogy for example. It is as if you're digging for diamonds. And you see this beautiful plot of golden sand and immediately run to start digging but after awhile find nothing but clumps of soil. And so you walk away moving on to the next plot of sand. When actually beneath those clumps of soil - and if you had just kept digging a little longer- you would have come to this chest bursting with crystals. But you gave up, when you thought there was nothing more.


But it's not even your fault. No one is going to waste half a day digging for diamonds at the same plot of land. Nor is someone going to spend half their time trying to uncover what is behind that shell.


Sure, people like to have fun and dance and laugh and sing with me and watch me as I come up with 5 minute performances to keep them from dying from boredom. But that's all I am. A 5-minute entertainer. And I wish I was more.


I want to be someone they know is fun and entertaining but not just that. Someone with a inner more complicated core that they want to solve. Someone with a little bit more maturity. Someone with a little more substance.


Which could mean changing who I am. Changing who I have been all this while.


Question is :


Are you ready for that?


Cheers.

You Will Remember Me.

I want a guitar for my birthday.

I WANT A GUITAR FOR MY BIRTHDAY!

Cheers.

* This has been the shortest post ever. Congratulate me.

I Love The Way I Look.

And yet it's a complete lie.

This post is going to be a little different, something I have never done before because I've never spoken of this out loud - although I'm sure alot of you may voice this out quite vocally (much to the annoyance of your listeners.) So here goes.

I have a problem with the way I look. I don't appear to, neither do I outwardly complain about it - but it always is at the back of my mind. It bothers me alot, particularly my figure. They call it curves - I call it overweight.

Sometimes it comes to the point of hating. I hate the fact I can belly roll. I hate the fact that I can exercise as much as I want, but in the end I'm always going to be frumpy. And it doesn't help that I am not of average height. I don't mind that - short girls are just as fabulous as tall girls - it's just that if I were a little taller, my appearance may not look so ... jelly-like.

I don't appreciate the fact that my jawline is hidden by facial fat; it puts me in a whole other cateogry. I just can't seem to like - or force myself to like - the way I look. I simply can't stand my figure.

And it's like a disease. I'm always picking up new garments when at the end of the day I end up shoving them at the back of the closet because I can see tyres through them, or my legs look like wieners. And I'm always in front of a mirror, trying to convince myself that there has been positive change when it was just the fat moving itself to another part of my abdomen.

I don't want to diet, because I know dieting can cause some serious damage to me later when you're much older as well as stunt any growth that might be coming my way. But I do know that I have to control what I eat. I want to cut out my sweets, but then again I think to myself that I should be enjoying myself. And I don't want to eat oily fried junk, but at the end of my monologous debate it boils down to the fact that I'm hungry. And that I need food. Any food.

Maybe this has something to do with the fact that no one has ever appreciated me for my looks. I know that sounds completely superficial but I think I at least want to know that people do think I am easy on the eyes. It's not the defining point in my life - but it sure helps. To have people check you out because ... you're hot. And not anyone. I'm talking about people whom you apprecicate for their looks too.

This is kind of a sob-story post but I guess I just really needed to let this out. I may appear confident about how I dress, but it's only because I don't let my insecurities reach my eyes - eventhough it's working full steam ahead behind them. I really take it to heart when people tell me that I need to lose weight, or when I'm insecure about me being left in the dark because I don't have a good figure.

I need to apologize to God because I am complaining over something trivial and hardly life-threatening. I want him to know I am very thankful for being healthy and not having a horrible disease and also for having all my body parts in tact. And also for not being deaf! (I was paranoid about that a few days ago.)

But I guess it's just me being insecure. And not having anything else to complain about.

I guess my fat is here to stay.

Cheers.