HI!
I can post really easily from my mobile now! thats what the "test" post was about, i was checking if it was working :]

Today we got some mirrors delivered that are cut to size for the Babycakes shop. These were not cheap at all. In fact, if I wanted to buy the mirrors just over a year ago it would of took me a month to save up my wages!! & thats just for 1 of them!

Anyway, the mirrors arrived. Our buliders were gonna fit them tomorrow but I really wanted to see what they looked like againt the wall.

Long story short - we dropped one of the mirrors and smashed all £5000 worth of mirrors.

LOLZ GUTTED M8.
thats my story for today, I hope you all learnt that mirrors can smash proper easily and that you should let people with mirror handling skills do they THANG.

Heres some more new photos...


The new Babycakes stuff is well on it. B)


who saw me in NME!?
and gregory in last weeks :D?


secret locationnn ;]






& everyone make sure you get your tickets for the party in manchester. If you miss out you will regret it!
Its gonna be amazing, so far we have sold tickets to Ireland, Netherlands, Norway & France. Its crazy that people are coming from so far to party!

NHRB is gonna be doing some of the photos at the party, he's the guy who did the E4 Skins photography. Im a massive fan of his photography so its great to have him doing the shoot!

get your tickets here - http://www.bbycks.com

Yesterday I finshed reading The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. Although it was a tad depressing, her use of poetic expression in her writing made the novel unique and intriguing. For instance, I really love this quote from chapter 4:

"The sickness rolled through me in great waves. After each wave it would fade away and leave me limp as a wet leaf and shivering all over and then I would feel it rising up in me again, and the glittering white torture chamber tiles under my feet and over my head and all four sides closed in and squeezed me to pieces."

For anyone who wants a look into the mind of someone suffering a mental breakdown, I recommend this book.

I also managed to catch a viewing of WALL-E. That movie is so damn cute, and it rings a lot of truth, too. I'd say it's one of my favorite animated films ever. Plus, they give you a cool blue WALL-E wrist watch at showtime with every ticket purchase you make!

Lastly, I opened a letter from Purchase today that informed me I would receive a $1,000 scholarship for the 2008-2009 year based on my academic performance from last year. Yippee!!!

housematehorror
Horror stories from the world of shared living spaces. EEK!

Weird dreams last night about Chris, Jay and stealing money at ice cream shops.


Stealing
To dream that you are stealing, denotes that you are deprived and where the stealing takes place (at home, the office, at school....) is indicative of your neediness. Alternatively, it may signify unrealized and unfulfilled goals. You may have set your goals too high.

Cake
To see a cake in your dream, indicates that you need to learn to share and allocate your workload instead of trying to do everything yourself.� Cakes also symbolize selfishness or the feeling of not getting your fair share.


Ice Cream
To see or eat ice cream in your dream, denotes pleasure and satisfaction with your life. It is also an indicative of good luck and success in love. To see ice cream melt in your dream, symbolizes failure to realize your hopes and desires.

Money
To dream that you steal money, forewarns that you are in danger and need to be cautious. On a positive note, it may mean that you are finally going after or reaching out towards attributes that you associate with things of value.


Watching
To dream that you are watching something, represents you lack of initiative to take a position or action. The dream may also symbolize your neutrality in some situation. You do not want to take a side.

dwseason4
A journal where the alternative fourth season of the TV show Doctor Who is being written.

lol_comics
Keep youself smiling at the little things with some funny comics.

bikes
A community for everyone who loves bicycles, motorbikes, and more.

My mind feels like it's a fish out of water: flopping around stupidly and desperate for air. I wish I could submerge it into some cleansing liquid; soak it up with thick knowledge and bubbles of wisdom.

I need some intellectual stimulation. It's one of the reasons I miss college. Working at a retail store makes me feel like an airhead.

But I still don't know what I'm doing with my life. I mean, I am a literature major. I decided that the second to last week of the spring semester. The intro to Shakespeare class I partook in happened to increase my appreciation for all literary works. I marched over to one of the lit advisors and informed her of my decision. She welcomed me aboard kindly, but I couldn't feel any real enthusiasm; just relief.

Everyone always asks what I plan to do with that kind of degree.

You want to be a writer? An English teacher? An editor?

I don't fucking know.

I chose it because a. I like to read and b. I'm decent at analyzing prose and poems. I have no high aspirations for myself. I don't have grand dreams of being a best-selling novelist or becoming an amiable English professor. It's just when people are constantly reminding you that you have to decide the rest of your life right now, you kind of just make a rational--not entirely ardent--decision.

I hope it works out.

I continue to buy books when I'm running out of space. Sue me.

The latest one is Why Are All the Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria? And Other Conversations about Race by B. D. Tatum. I've been working in the Black Studies section at work lately. Found some really great books. Glad I did too because before I wasn't too concerned about Blackness and its history.

This week I noticed a co-worker who seems to mention my "PoC-ness" at every chance he gets. It's like, I know I'm Black, you don't have to remind me. He may be getting used to having non-White people in his vicinity since he grew up in New Hampshire. Take the silence two managers and myself were exercising about another employee who quit last week. All of us happen to be PoC and this co-worker said, "I think no one's telling me what happened cos it's a Black thing." After pausing to collect my thoughts(not reacting to his ignorant statement) I told him, "No, it's a protecting [the employee] thing. It's not my place to discuss her business." He walked away unsatisfied. Later he came back, presumably after asking around, to tell me what happened. I knew but I wasn't going to gossip about it.

He asked today where I grew up in the city and because I didn't tell him he kept asking all day(as if it were that important to know which borough I was born in). Finally, I told him to stay out of my business cos it was getting annoying. He told me, "you need to say biz-nass with sass." Immediately I realized he'd been viewing me as a finger-snapping, head-bopping round-the-way girl. Because you know, that's the way Black people act. I couldn't ever type him as a lazy, drunken, Catholic cos he's Irish because that would be wrong. So why was it acceptable to view me the way he did? I have never acted that way and in our dealings, he always seems to be prompting me to resort to being his made-up idea of a PoC.

Heavens, if someone calls me sassy for standing up for myself or gentle, playful ribbing in the workplace, I'm going to take a vow of silence. Or hand the offender a copy of "White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack" by Peggy McIntosh.

You're never truly in love with someone unless there's a certain ambivalence associated with it.

God, I love him.

But we can piss each other off so easily. Haha.

Our generation is so depressed...

we will do anything to escape that reality.

ive got the theme song to kenan and kel stuck in my head.



oh yup. hes the man.

so i was reading friends entries the other day when mark made a comment about how gay i am to still be using this. well i looked it up, and ive been whining in this shit since '03. thats 5 years, thats fucking retarded. i read my first couple entries and its funny how even then, with absolutely no responsibilities i found sooo many things to complain about. i guess it doesnt really matter where you are in life, youre still going to find ways to make it harder on yourself.

so anyways, it was a bit of a throwback. 5 years is such a long time that regardless of the fact that im doing pretty well for myself, i feel as if i should have more accomplished. the other day i was doing my makeup in the bathroom and moe was shouting to me from the backroom. she walked over and just stood and stared at me for a second and said, "nik, rochester just aint for you. you need to be big somewhere." honestly, i dont really even know what she meant by that. or why the application of mascara stemmed that thought but she makes those kinds of comments often. if its the kind of success ive always dreamed of, i guess ill take it as a compliment that she sees me there one day.
theres just so much that i want to do/learn. i want to be designing and making my own clothes, painting more, tattooing, i want to go to cosmotology school and i want to get back into photography. regardless of career paths, i just want to travel all over the world, to absorb as much information as i can. i never thought the words would come out of my mouth, but i MISS school. if i could do it all over again i think i would have a much greater appreciation for the system... but doesnt everybody say that.

I hate time. It's such a dictator. It's always there, scratching at the back of my head. What time is it? How much time do I have? What time do I have to wake up? What time do I have to leave? What time does my break end?

I wish I could live by sunup, sundown; dawn, dusk; sunrise,sunset. It'd be a lot better than having some obnoxious numbers and ticking hands telling you what to do. I mean, those digital clocks can be so intimidating. The flaming red color of the numbers are whispering, "we are murdering every second of your life. When you die, the time of your departure will be recorded, just like when you came into this god damn world. You can't escape us."

It's scary. Numbers are powerful. Our lives are bascally ruled by numbers and time. The dual demon combination. Everything and everyone is kept track by a number: the number of eggs in a carton, the number located on your mailbox, the number of pounds of fat slopping around in your skin, the number printed on your shitty paycheck, the number of gallons of gas you get for $4.25, the social security number that proves you're a real person...

It never ends.

I'm fighting the urge to go to Ikea today. I want Swedish meatballs but I know I won't be able stop myself from buying other crap, too.

So I'm distracting myself by cleaning out my bookmarks. There's a lot of stuff there I saved for whatever reason and are no longer useful. They take up space on Wentworth and he's screaming for memory.

Which reminds me . . . I need to clean up elsewhere. I went back to T's and saw the junk I have there. So many books. I need to stop. I average five books a week from work. Multiply that by sixty--that's a lot of books. I have an addiction.  

It's friggen 5:20 in the goddamn morning. I cannot believe iam awake right now and know that iam in existance. Me and [other] got pissy rediculously drunk yesterday. Well, apparently we did not or it's by God's grace that I do not have a hangover right now. I came home and slept. Been up since 3:45. What I can say for sure though, is that I got what I wanted (: (which would be [other]) Moral of this entry ? I can hold my liquor and I always, ALWAYS get what I want .end.

It feels like there is a nail slowly twisting itself into the side of my skull. It's not a violent throbbing pain; just a dull ache that's bothersome enough to be labeled as a nuisance.

I've been getting headaches a lot lately. I don't understand why, though. I get adequate sleep, I eat decently, and I wouldn't exactly call myself "inactive".

And they say sex increases pain relief. PSHHH!

www.exceptchickens.blogspot.com

knitted_wedding
Follow one woman's quest to knit an entire vow-renewing wedding. Encouragement is encouraged.

brigits_flame
For writers interested in an ongoing competition that tests your narrative chops.

hollow_art
A longstanding art, icon and base archive centered around RPGs.