Red Hands & Yellow Fever

I miss October already and it's only the 7th. A friend suggested I get a little more "personal" on my blog. "People will trust you more when they know you're a real person, with real feelings." Note taken. When it rains, it doesn't pour...it just means I'm a girl and shedding a few tears is standard protocol...twice a year. No more no less. Fashion boss Kelly Cutrone said it herself..."if you have to cry go outside." I have a lot on my plate: in real life and figuratively. I want it all.


1984 sounds better. I'm closing shop...foreals this time.

Tough life for a 20 something in the city. Considering a gun. Maybe some mace.

Always try things on for size. They look better on display than on my feet, but I'll fuck with them anyway.

Netflix que and a childhood favorite. AFI approved.

You try so hard to do right, but it's all wrong in the end anyways.

Chinatown vs. Midtown. Night Kitchen vs. Honey Court. You do the math.

Artist retreat at Club Vertigo. Free the fellas dot organization.

Yellow fever is going out of style. So are black guys. I'm going gay.

Pork chops...

And new hair chops. I stay asian.

The greatest of expectations and cruel to be kind intentions.

Time for a new tattoo or two or three.

Ma vie en red and yellow.