2010

A few moments ago, my father bestowed his New Year wish upon me. A fan of Borat, he said:

"I wish you lots of 'sexyt time' in 2010!"

How bad does your sex life have to be that your FATHER wishes for you to get laid?

Happy New Year.

resolution, part 3

Wear more sequins.

(image via we heart it)

'Cause you can never wear enough.

yo

(image via La Vie en Rose)

resolution, part 2

The Huffington Post asks which man I want to kiss at midnight. So on the eve before 2011, any of the following will do:

(images via here)

With tongue, preferably.

resolution, part 1

In the days leading up to 2010, I will post some my New Year resolutions. So...

I will shun current girlfriends of ex-boyfriends from my Facebook. Because they really shouldn't be there in the first place.

i have caved

half past one in the morning

For the life of me, I cannot sleep.

I took a four hour nap this afternoon because I have contracted a cold right in the middle of a Brazilian summer. Just in time for the family X-mas dinner tomorrow night, too.

I am not looking forward to it. I don't like the excessive eating that will take up residence on my ass. I'm Brazilian, I don't need extra junk in the trunk.

I don't like the raisins showing up in every Christmas dish. They look like turds and make me want to vomit.

I don't like the forceful smile you have to conjure up when your grandmother gives you a wad of cash, while you just gave her a pair of shitty slippers. This is the woman who bore the woman who bore you, for god's sake.

Also, I realised that my tags on this blog are very very dull. WTF, coolshit, bedroom...? I mainly made up only these few tags because I cannot be fucked to think of something new every time I post something. But then again, if I don't put in the effort you will not like me. And you will not read me. And all I ever want is to be popular.

No, not really. I don't really give a fuck.

acceptance

I am the kind of person who laughs at little children falling on their faces.

(image via Molls, She Wrote)

And I'm ok with that.

it's saturday

(image via here)

What the fuck am I doing up at 8 a.m.?

her madge

(images via Just Jared)

Madonna, Spring 2010 Dolce & Gabbana ad campaign.

the yellow bedroom, part 2

My problem at the moment is that I have nothing on my walls as of yet. However, I put together these five frames, which are serious contenders for hanging on the yellow walls.

I got the frames from the Sister, and decided to leave the backgrounds au naturel.

Here I framed two postcards I've had for a while and always thought belonged together. The top one is of Marilyn Monroe looking disheveled and lonely. The bottom one is a close-up of a mannequin missing an eyelash and looking lonely.

And here I simply framed four 7-inch vinyls I bought for nothing at a fleamarket in Pinheiros. Bought purely for their stylish covers. No sentimental attachment to the music whatsoever.

They will be making their way up on my walls when I finally decide where the hell to hang them.

it's nice

Dinner last night for the Sister and I was at Piola, the Jardins branch of the international Italian chain.

(image via Piola)

I like going there because sometimes fun trumps hunger. And it's a fun place. A lively and hip atmosphere. Stylish, colourful decor. Good looking waiting staff.

(images via Destemperados)

There's also the pizza. Which is nice enough.

An awful adjective, I know. But there is no other word for it. Their pizza is not the number one reason I go there. The dough is nice, their choices are vast. Which is nice.

Yet the end result doesn't hit the right spot for me. One day the pizza doesn't have enough tomato sauce, the other day too much garlic... but I keep going back.

Because of all the bright colours and pretty waiters.

better late than never

(image via we heart it)

too old for this shit

I went to see New Moon again last night.

And I have a few observations stemming from this second viewing.

1. Ms. Bella is a little thrill seeker, ain't she? She seems perfectly content with the prospect of either being sucked dry of her blood by a pasty vamp, or torn apart by the claws of a giant ass wolf.

2. This outfit is absolutely ridiculous.

3. Yes, he is just as good the second time around.

(images via we heart it)

hungover

Just got back from R.'s birthday party.

(image via here)

I had no idea children could yell THAT loudly.

remember this?

Go here.

Now check this out.

my x-mas list

1. This laptop sticker from Hu2.

(image via Apartment Therapy)

That's it.

overdose

My cousin's daughter, R., is having her birthday party tomorrow. She is turning two.

I didn't post anything yesterday because the Sister and I were helping with the party preparations all last night. The theme is the Backyardigans.

(image via here)

The Sister excelled in decorating the cake to look like Uniqua, little R.'s favourite Backyardigan.

I managed to help colour the icing a bright pink, but towards the end of the night, my job was to take care of R. so she didn't run the risk of sticking her tiny child claws into the cake.

From our time spent together, I learnt that her second favourite Backyardigan is Pablo.

And that she hates Austin because he is not as good an investigator as Pablo is.

(images via here)

Which I, like, totally didn't know.

a two way street

"What is the value of art and music without the listener, spectator, onlooker and appreciator? The relationship between the artist and his or her audience is a two way street. One is not complete without the other."

- The Photodiarist.

Mark Rothko (1903-1970).

(image via here)

No. 3/No. 13 (Magenta, Black, Green on Orange), 1949.

scaredy cat

I am a dog person, 99.9%.

When I was 9 years old, there was a cat that lived in our building in London. My father called him Underground. I used to pet him and feed him. He was my friend. One day, he went after me. I might have done something to piss him off.

But the point is, I've been frightened of cats ever since.

So you can understand my horror when the Sister showed me the following:

Look at him plotting the murder of the entire household...

I honestly don't know how the owners of this cat can sleep at night.

if you think...

that I am not going to watch "Robsessed"...

then you don't know me at all.

P.S. - Thank you to L. for showing me the way.

"the classic regency romance - now with ultraviolent zombie mayhem"

I just bought a book called "Pride and Prejudice and Zombies".

(image via here)

It's Pride and Prejudice, but with zombies.

Which I suspect makes it infinitely more interesting.

Example:

"'My dear girl', said her ladyship. 'I suggest you take this contest seriously. My ninjas will show you no mercy.'"

I rest my case.

gimme sum dim sums

From time to time, when I lived in London, I'd go eat dim sums at Ping Pong.

Can you imagine my profound excitement when a Brazilian branch of Ping Pong opened here in São Paulo last September?

Last night I finally managed to go. Located in the Itaim neighbourhood, the good people of Ping Pong have managed to capture similar service, decor and atmosphere as the London restaurants.

(images via here)

And, seriously, the dim sums are just as good. Seriously.

P.S. - I apologise for the title of this post. It's preposterous, I know.

will trade organs for bedding

I just saw this post on Apartment Therapy on Orla Kiely's bedding collection. I nearly wet myself.

Her bedding collection reminds of my 1970's bedding.

At this moment, I am offering my kidneys and a part of my liver for the following:

(images via Orla Kiely)

Orla Kiely falls directly under the category "shit that should be available in Brazil" ASAP.

oh, my

the yellow bedroom, part 1

Since my yellow bedroom isn't all done yet, I'm going to post bits and pieces of it until it's all nicely put together.

But for now, here is a picture of my bedside table...

The bedside table and lamp are from Tok&Stok, while the acrylic pencil holder and alarm clock were bought at the London MUJI store. The pink phone was found at a flea market here in São Paulo. And I just want to lick those yellow walls...

But the cherry on the cake for me is the acrylic ceiling lamp, also from at Tok&Stok.

I just added this last picture because it looks all artist like and shit.

More pictures to come... hopefully more thrilling than a bedside table and a ceiling lamp.

that 70's bedding

A few years ago, my mother gave me her old bedding from when she got married.

They were purchased in 1975 and have lasted for over 30 years. No holes, no tears.

I use them regularly on my bed. The quality of this bedding amazes me... after thousands of washes, they have maintained their softness and colour.

Observe the evidence on these pillow cases. (I'm using the first one at the moment.)

I adore the patterns and colours. Growing up I used to think they were hideous on my parents' bed. But now I can't fathom life without them.

Moreover, I cannot find bedding with this good a quality here in Brazil anymore. I guess they don't make them as good as they did in the 70's.

And can we please notice that for a second day in a row I have posted my own photos?

So they were also taken on my nasty brown bedspread.

Don't be a bitch, I'm still learning.

a note to george michael

It's bad enough that you almost single-handedly make me hate Christmas.

And now you drop another tune this year that we can all cut our wrists to.

"White sugar from Jesus"? Seriously?

For fuck's sake, George Michael. Stop it. Just stop it.

again, again

I am preparing myself to watch New Moon again.

(image via LenoreNevermore)

Yes, again. Shut up.

let the games begin

Brazilians are PISSED at Robin Williams.

Not this Brazilian, though. I still like him.

my first photo

Guess what.

I took my first photo for this blog today. And I'm posting it.

Right here:

This is a fabulous shoppers bag I bought at Liberdade today (a neighbourhood in São Paulo which deserves a post all of its own coming soon). I am taking it grocery shopping, and generally everywhere I go. Specifically because I think it makes me look significantly cooler.

I promised to post photos of my yellow bedroom, but not yet.

Be patient, bitches.

P.S.

The yellow bedroom is coming together very slowly... but if you're good I'll attempt that taking pictures business I mentioned a while back.

costume nightmare

I was reading Drollgirl today and came across Marnie Weber's work.

Her costume series exemplifies why I am frightened to the core of people wearing costumes.

(images via Marnie Weber)

If I walked into a movie theatre like the one above, I'd shit my pants.

...

In new apartment.

Surrounded by boxes.

Too tired.

perfection

honestly

These honesty stamps on Apartment Therapy are a great idea. Especially for emotional retards with severe communication problems like myself.

(image via Design Public)

Designed by Dominic Wilcox for Thorsten van Elten (sold on Design Public), you can just stamp the sentiment on a card and slip it under someone's door. Their honest sayings range from the sentimental ("In all my life I've never met anyone as beautiful as you") to the cheeky ("Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and all that crap").

That's all very useful, but honestly... I need more.

Here a few suggestions:

"Get a personality."

"I don't like you as much as I used to."

"Don't hate yourself even though you are a fuck up."

"You're not that smart."

"You're an asshole. Accept it and move on."

I think these sentiments are equally honest AND useful.

Hope you've had a pleasant Wednesday.