pasado pisado.

this one goes out to the pretentious jews that read rayuela.
all my love.

adult content.

i love flirting.
even with fake whores on the internet that add me on msn messenger.
(she then offered me to pay god knows how much money with my credit card for one of her shows.)

cool kids belong together.

missed connections.

you want to be with me.
you just don't know it yet.

a round of applause, you got what you want.

want from ywfont on Vimeo.

my muse.
always & forever.

your ex-lover is dead.

oh my god, please save me from all the dreams i've been having for almost a week now.

all regarding my ex-lovers.

+

there's one thing i want to say, so i'll be brave:
you were what i wanted.
i gave what i gave.
i'm not sorry i met you,
i'm not sorry it's over.
i'm not sorry there's nothing to save.

your ex-lover is dead, stars.

+

runaway train never coming back.

i woke up today to this really bizarre dream.

i was in buenos aires, in the middle of the crowd of a the strokes' show. the crowd was really annoying and they even laughed at how julian was singing.
my friend ana left and then i run into two other friends and stayed beside them. suddenly, one of them started talking to the other one and they randomly started making out. apparently, they'd met in a house party that past weekend. thing is, they were two (straight) girlfriends of mine. and to be honest, i can't picture none of them together. not even as friends.

anywhore, when the strokes played "new york city cops", i started dancing and singing like crazy and this dude came up to me. he started talking to me and telling me how cool the strokes were, and how much fun the show was. of course, i nodded, and felt really weird beside him because we were extremely close.
next thing you know, we were kissing and things got a little bit... um... out of hands.
when the show finished, we left the venue and told me he had to go home. when we said goodbye at the train station, he was like: "call me sometime!". but of course, i didn't have his number. so he started yelling his #number from inside the train, and since i couldn't understand a word he was saying, i run towards the train and managed to get inside.

then everything went cloudy, and all i remember is that i couldn't call ana to tell her what was going on, and that i was really far away from home and had to take an extra train. then i woke up.

moral of the story: guys like that do not exist. why? too many reasons i don't feel like mentioning right now.

team edward.

i'll be on front row next friday. wearing black lipstick, obvs.
please come find!

the soundtrack of my life.

the most definitive song of my last big relationship is "happy meal II" by the cardigans and it goes like this, you guys.

+

arrange my books in order.
make up some nice stories to amuse you.
make things look smart and easy.
shape up the place, hungry for the meeting.
the dinner we'll be eating,
wine that we'll be drinking,
and kinky thoughts i'm thinking
all because of you.

and now i've found a partner.
no one can be happier than i am.
and now i've found a new friend.
no one can be happier than me.

prepare a meal with candles.
sweet wine and strings chosen for the purpose.
then take a bath with bubbles.
shape up my face, eager for the meeting.
the dinner we'll be eating,
wine that we'll be drinking,
and kinky thoughts i'm thinking
all because of you.

+

sometimes the-person-who-shall-not-be-named is missed.
or maybe i miss the fact of waking up to this song together (and to the whole of the "first band on the moon" album).

bromance.

i hear you.

stolen from shirley manson's facebook.
disclaimer: i don't have shirley manson on my facebook account. it just happens that a friend of mine does and likes her note and just came up on my news feed.

happy. as in early 2006-happy.

this video was filmed at the boat, kensington market, toronto, ontario, canada, planet earth.

the boat is one of my favorite places to party in the whole of toronto.
i miss going out in toronto like cr-a-zy.
oh, yes i do.

indignation.

malba museum. andy warhol exhibition. 12.15 am. me, my classmates, and this really annoying woman who shares the class with us.

(on an andy warhol screen test)
me: "i can't tell whether this is actually lou reed or someone else."
one of my closest classmates: "yeah, me neither. i'm not really sure. who else could that be?"
me: "ummm. let's see..."
annoying classmate (interrupting): "he looks exactly like dylan."
me and my closest classmate look at each other: "no, he's not bob dylan."
annoying classmate: "i mean, dylan, from the 90210 show..."
me (giving her the cut eye): "...but this is from the 60s. 90210 is a tv show from the 90s..."

pause. i start rolling my eyes.

annoying classmate: "oh. i thought it was him!"
me to my closest classmate (while walking away): "the saddest part of this conversation was that she was really being serious about it. she actually thought it was luke perry. and this woman is a lawyer!"

seriously, what the fucking heck!? gosh.

words of wisdom.

happy halloween, you guys.

i spent my whole halloween at my friend's place. but i was home alone because both of them were working.
i watched 'factory girl', slept, lurked on the internet, etc. until one of my friends got home and gave me an underwear (with stars on it!) as a belated birthday present. i love surprises.

ps. look at lucy peanut in the picture being a total asshole, as per usual. what a party pooper.