Taylor Swift is a music phenomenon — her sugar-coated style a perfect antidote to her nation’s ills. But will she be one of the greats?

The night before I interview the country-music megastar Taylor Swift in LA, I see her play at a charity fundraiser in Beverly Hills. The hot scent of lilies fills the room, which is heaving with diamonds, tumbling blonde curls, facelifts and fur. The chatter, above the clink of champagne glasses, is all about Taylor, who smiles as the flashbulbs pop around her like the brightest shower of stars. During dinner, the host, Tom Hanks, eulogises about Taylor’s “unbelievable poise and talent”. There’s an auction and someone pays $50,000 for a signed guitar.

Before dinner, I am introduced to Taylor, who jumps up from her place beside Steven Spielberg to hug me. She’s incredibly charming (“Oh, hi! I love your dress! You look so cute! What perfume are you wearing? I love it!”), and in a room full of extreme facial reconstruction, there’s something endearing about her slightly skewy face, which is pretty, but also looks real.

When she sings, Reese Witherspoon has to restrain her daughter, Ava, from storming the stage. Taylor’s stagecraft is impeccable, both intimate and big-scale, and she uses her international hair to full effect. “Thank you soooo much. It’s an honour to be here. Wow!” she murmurs, sounding genuinely surprised at the raucous standing ovation. “Isn’t she delicious?” says a woman in diamonds beside me. “She’s what America needs right now. So sweet.” Yes, I think, very sweet. But does sweetness make a great country singer?

Until last week, the only thing I could have told you about Taylor Swift was that Kanye West stormed the stage in protest when she won at the MTV Music Awards. I couldn’t name her songs, but in HMV an assistant, with tattoos running up both arms and a faceful of metal, had given her his thumbs up. “We stock her under country, as well as rock and pop. She’s my guilty pleasure,” he said, surprising me, as I didn’t have him down as country-music fan. Waiting to interview her, I realise there’s much about the dizzying rise of 20-year-old Taylor that’s surprising. She’s the top digital-selling artist ever, and her second album, Fearless, went double platinum in four weeks. Last year, every single tour date sold out within minutes. She vies with Mariah Carey and the Beatles for the most top 20 Billboard chart debuts, and she has 3m Facebook friends. Crossover? You betcha.

For a long time, country music has been taboo, lampooned as redneck music that berates you to stand by your man, even when that man is a tobacco-chewing addict who can’t say I love you. In the 1980s, country gained a reputation as a dodgy genre saddled to a sweaty, overweight, balding man with a terrible taste in shirts — Garth Brooks. Line dancing and Billy Ray Cyrus didn’t help, either. Lesbians liked country, but nobody else did.

I should know. I’m not a lesbian, but I’ve always loved country music. On the school bus, my contemporaries wore stonewashed jeans and fluoro socks, with Bros, Frankie Goes to Hollywood and Wham! on their Walkmans. I liked gingham shirts, Tammy Wynette, Willie Nelson and Steve Earle, and they thought I was a complete weirdo. I didn’t care because, this being country, it made it all the sweeter. Country has accompanied every love affair I’ve ever had, and it’s also changed the course of my life. The wild energy of Willie Nelson was the reason I moved, aged 22, to Texas, to find out if those pick-up-truck-driving, honky-tonk-dancing cowboys were for real. They were, so I got a job as a cowgirl on a ranch. Before I left, I got “Texas” tattooed on my left biceps on the way to ride a bucking horse in a rodeo with a cowboy called Jimmy Joe. Country music is the reason why, nine years later, I’m mother to a son called Jimmy Joe and a daughter called Dolly. No need to explain her name. It’s certainly part of the reason I married a hard-drinking musician. It spoke to me, too, when I stood in the wreckage of that marriage, giving my life a narrative I understood that helped me step out of it.

I’m not the only woman with a tangible connection to country music. It had a huge impact on housewives in small-town America in the 1950s and 1960s, when Patsy Cline, Kitty Wells and Loretta Lynn gave them a voice of their own, even if it was one singing about Fist City and Don’t Come Home a’ Drinkin’ (With Lovin’ on Your Mind).

So where does Taylor fit into this? Her life, by her own admission, is “an insane fairy tale that sometimes feels like a movie”. There’s a lot of romance to the story of 10-year-old Taylor singing her socks off at every country show that passed through her home town in Pennsylvania. You also have to hand it to her for posting demo tapes through the letter box of every record producer in Nashville when she was 11, and having the self-belief to keep on singing when she was rejected by them all. Her parents, Scott, a stockbroker, and Andrea, a housewife, moved Taylor and her brother, Austin, to Nashville when she was 14. A smart move, as Taylor, who writes all her songs, was spotted singing at the famous Bluebird Cafe, and is the youngest person ever to have signed a songwriting deal with Sony/ATV Publishing. A recording deal followed, and since then she’s made music history.

Moments before we meet, her publicist tells me I mustn’t ask her about relationships, which seems surprising for someone whose multi-million-pound industry revolves around singing about nothing but relationships. She has been linked to the musician John Mayer and Twilight’s Taylor Lautner, her co-star in a forthcoming movie, Valentine’s Day. I’m worrying, too, about how this colt of a girl can really sing country, when country, at its best, is about suffering and soul, and the seductive and seedy underbelly of domestic life. As Tammy Wynette, country’s high priestess of pain, said: “The sad part about a happy ending is that there’s nothing to write about.” Taylor’s songs are about crushes in 10th grade and high-school love, but where does that leave the big themes of country music: infidelity, alcoholism, domestic violence and God? The biggest tragedy I can find in Taylor’s lovely life is her claim that she was dumped by Joe Jonas, who wears a chastity ring.

I have to hand it to her parents: they’ve drummed impeccable Southern manners into her. She has super-model limbs, curly hair pulled back and eyelids sagging under fake lashes, the only artifice in an otherwise girlish look. She is wearing a bright blue dress with a belted yellow top, and a huge key around her neck. “A gift from a friend, who found it at Wembley. Singing there meant so much to me, and I thought it appropriate to wear it today,” she says.

Answers roll out of her mouth with polish and spontaneity. She tells me about the “whimsical” (a word she uses often) pleasures of growing up surrounded by animals on a Christmas-tree farm, and paints such an adorable picture of herself running through the fields “like a crazy kid with tangled hair”, it could have been created by Walt Disney. She’s deeply grateful to her parents, of course. “They never pushed me. Getting into music was my ambition, but when they realised that’s what I wanted, they drove me to guitar lessons and helped me figure out which amps I needed. They gave me this wonderful space to be imaginative and to dream.”

She tells me about the apartment she has bought in Nashville, where she’s having a giant birdcage installed in which to play music, and how she loves making spiced pumpkin cookies with frosted icing. Sometimes she veers into beauty-queen speak, rolling off pat answers about the importance of following a dream, and telling me that “if I had one wish, it would be the power to heal”. But she seems emotionally articulate as well, which she puts down to having spent so long talking about herself in interviews. “You get to know yourself pretty well. It’s like therapy,” she says, laughing.

Pressed on the subject of boys, she’s a little coy. Being on stage gives her a confidence she doesn’t have in normal life, she claims. She won’t go into details, but doesn’t have a bad word to say about Jonas, although she’s endlessly forthcoming on the theory, at least, of love. “I’m fascinated by love, because it’s something you can never figure out. All my music is based on real personal experiences,” she says, quick to point out that “this doesn’t mean I’ve had a lot of boyfriends. One relationship might inspire a whole album. I understand unrequited love, when you’ve never had a chance to wrap your arms round someone and feel it”.

Although she has never experienced “big love”, she’s holding out for it. “I think there are different levels of compatibility in relationships, and many people find a partial match. Once in a while two people find the perfect match, and we’re all envious.”

It’s hard not to fall for Taylor. The lady in the diamonds was right: she’s what America needs right now, a tall glass of cherry soda, a small-town girl singing songs about love that we can all relate to. It’s not her fault she hasn’t suffered, that there isn’t a hint of white trash about her. A decade ago, Britney urged us to “hit me baby one more time”, a sentiment that coming from Taylor’s mouth would sound totally inappropriate — and totally inappropriate, too, for our post-bling, post-gangsta-rap, post-financial-meltdown sensibilities. Taylor has got heart, and represents what’s good about the tattered American dream, the pretty girl living the fairy tale who dislodges our jaded cynicism with life.

I hope Taylor’s life stays as sweet as she makes it seem today. I hope she never does sing about divorce and tragedy, about the kind of domestic suffering her country-music predecessors went through. I wish her only happiness. But if you were to ask me whether, a decade down the line, she will be singing the kind of songs that change women’s lives, the kind of songs Tammy and Kitty and Patsy sang, I would have to say, I doubt it.

I have had this blog post meandering in my brain for the past week and have neglected to execute it due to how I wanted to go about it. I guess I should start by conveying how much I despair for the youth of today. I’m not even trying to be funny, I truly mean it.

A couple of days ago I logged in to my facebook account and had a message from one of my friends. She asked me to take a little look at the page of a younger mutual friend of whom is 13. Firstly, the facebook age limit is 15+ (in my opinion this is still far too young) the 13 year old’s page was filled with utter filth. The friend and I had been discussing this a little over the past 8 months since this young one opened her account… At first it was a little bit funny to see the kinds of silly status updates – we were laughing at how innocent and dramatic they were. After awhile, with the raising friend count (its around 300+ to date, I bet you only a very small handful of these people does she know in ‘real life’) the status updates became more intense. They were filled with expletives and mild cases of cyber bullying from – I assume, girls that go to her school or girls who go to schools surrounding her own.

The language that they use on her page makes even myself cringe. I think of how I spoke at 13, and believe me, I was no angel – but there are expressions and words that quite frankly, I didn’t even know about at that age. My parents knew where I was at all times, I was not allowed for sleep overs at boys houses, I was forbidden to stay out later than 5pm on a school night (and even then, I wasn’t allowed to leave my cul-de-sac street) and by God, if I ever got caught using those kinds of words, my Dad would have marched me straight to the bathroom and literally washed my mouth out with cake soap … and even worse, solvo, if there was any. I am not even kidding.

This friend boasted the other day about her 16 yr old boyfriend, and sleeping over with him – she talked about where she went for the next day in detail (as in specific locations), among other things. And it makes me wonder, her Mum is someone I know quite well, who is also added to her page as a friend. Has she not seen this? Does she not care?

No, wait… it gets better.

Two days later I logged in to facebook to see she had uploaded some new photos. She’s a pretty girl and looks older than 13, to be sure. However, the photos made me worry. Her bra is exposed from her top and she is doing the very typical “strategic angle pose” which allows the viewers to get a worldly view of her cleavage. Nice. And then another photo, altered slightly with a monochrome filter – although not so much that you can’t see her figure clearly. In this photo her legs are open and she is wearing a tiny pair of shorts.

I could have heaved. She went on to ask a friend that if she was as beautiful as someone had complimented her, why she was not in a relationship (said 16yr old dumped her according to fb) and it made me momentarily sad for her that that is how a thirteen year old girl is to define herself.

Why don’t parents keep a close eye on what their children are doing on the internet? She has so many facebook friends, I for one would be culling that for starters. She would be deleting every single person that she does not know personally (as a mother I’d be culling it to the friends of my daughter or son that I knew personally) I would be setting that profile to private (this is by the way, all hypothetically assuming I got drugged and plied with alcohol and allowed my child under duress to even create a profile to begin with… I’d rather pour gasoline on myself and set myself on friggin’ fire than let a child under 18 parade their lives around online) and I would be privvy to the password and I would be checking in every second day to make sure that it is being used for the right reasons.

I am a facebook user, yes. In fact, I post a lot of private things on it. However, I make great use of the friend lists. I have a list for family and relatives and best friends. I have a list for Michael Jackson fan-friends. I then have a list for acquaintences. I do not allow anyone of whom I do not know see those private things. I do not post smutty photos of myself. I love facebook because it caters to exactly what it should in my life. I use it to keep in touch with the friends I have made through traveling through the past 10 years – and it allows me to keep in contact with my family and the friends that I left behind in Sydney.

It is NOT a substitute for real life friendships. I do not desire to really communicate with my “real life” friends through it – or substitute facebook for communication via phone or face-to-face.

I wonder when parents are going to start doing their jobs. It’s all well and good to think that you can trust your kids, but really, the internet is a big, dangerous place. I find it crazy when I hear / see some of the stuff on there. And really, no one is to blame but the parents.

Gosh…

The other day at work I had a meeting and one of the people in the meeting was a very pretty young girl who just recently earned her engineering license. The conversation turned to congratulating her on her recent achievement and I of course noted that she is more than just another pretty face. There are some real brains behind all that beauty. I should have gotten the crap beat out of me for such a comment but she took it well and of course we transitioned right into talking about poker.

The basis for the discussion was how people are judged based upon outward appearance. She was asking me if her looks hurt or help her at the poker table. I thought about it some and told her she needed to use it as a weapon and understand how to benefit from her looks.

She surprised me with the fact that she usually tries to dress down and subdue her looks any time she is going out to play poker. Primarily she hates all the attention she gets in the poker room. In her opinion, the men in the poker room are pigs and very rude. The primary issue seems to be constant staring, leering and gawking. I have probably been guilty of this myself a few times.

Staring deeply into her cleavage I asked, “What poker face?”

“Up, up higher, right there, there is where you look when you talk to me.”

Because I have never been the most beautiful one at the table I have never had to use my good looks to my advantage at the poker table. I remember reading a few articles over the years and I have some experience playing with a couple of super hot girls so I tried to give away a few basic ideas of how to maximize your assets.

The bottom line is you need to be able to put yourself in your opponents’ seat and see what he does when he looks at you. What assumptions are they making about you based upon your appearance? How will they play against you based upon those appearances? How can I reinforce those assumptions? How can I exploit the assumptions my opponent has made?

I like to write about pretty women way more than I do about middle aged white guys, unless of course I am writing about myself, so I will share a few tips for my pretty young female reader. Yes I meant for that to be singular. If I have a second pretty reader please let me know and send pictures.

First I must really ask you to dress up and look your best when you come to the poker room. A little self serving but you will also benefit. This is an asset and you need to use it. Play to your strengths and shy away from your weakness.

Second, you need to turn up the flirting and try to chat about things other than poker. Claim to be there by yourself or with the girls. Your story should be that you are just out to have a good time and your friend wanted to play poker. You are just along having a good time and really do not play much poker mostly at home with friends. Try to notice who is interested and playing along with your story; yes I mean the creep trying to get into your pants. You will want to play pots against this guy and exploit him.

Third, you have to understand that the pretty girl gets called by everyone. People will give you chips for little or no reason. Do not bluff unless you are absolutely sure the guy is totally enamored with you and you can sweet talk him out of the pot. I would almost make the rule do not bluff. You also need to over bet your hand when you have a strong hand. Players are going to call much bigger bets against you. You can also call less than other people because good players rarely bluff pretty girls. When you fold you can turn on the charm and ask them to show you what they had and this will work.

Fourth, play shorter sessions and use a hit and run strategy. You will wear out your welcome after a few hours if you are playing far better than you look. So keep it fresh and bounce around from table to table and casino to casino. If you are in Las Vegas for a week, play a different poker room every night. Once players know they can not get in your pants and they are not going to get your chips they will begin to treat you as just another player. I call that the Jennifer Harmon phenomenon.

Guys please beware, if any of you made it this far, that the cute girl that just joined the poker game may be more than just another pretty face.

“Hey purrty gurl, you got good genes, spread ‘em rouuuund! Lunch on me tomorrow? No? Aight, gurl, you purty though. Hey! You ’sposed to say thank you!”

- random guy on E. 14th St., casting for his music video. 

…It can be pretty fun. You’ve got a pretty girl making some salmon and sauteed asparagus. You’ve got a girl to kiss whenever you want. It’s nice. You get to take out the trash, hook up some electronics and hug your girl from behind while she’s cooking. It’s really nice.

But playing is probably a lot different from the real thing. There’s no arguing, no serious discussions or deliberations. It’s easy, playing. But it’s not the real thing. So it makes me wonder, why do we need the real thing? And then I remember, the easy things aren’t always fulfilling. Kids aren’t easy, but something tells me they’re really worth it. Easy is fun, but nothing worth having comes easy.

Popular japanse gravure idol/ TV personality Azusa Yamamoto released new app on iTunes called AzuLand. The app features pictures of the pretty face Azusa in bikini in a 8.8MB download. It is priced at $1.99.
iTunes link

Today is Christmas Eve.

In many ways X-mas and New Years are exact opposites of each other in Japan and Western countries.

In Western countries, Xmas is the biggest holiday of the year with the post office busy delivering Xmas cards, many stores are closed and families gather to enjoy a big dinner together and give gifts to children.
And then New Years is celebrated on New Years Eve and quietly ends the next day.

In Japan, it’s the other way around.
Here, Christmas is often celebrated in Xmas Eve by couples going on a date and families having a dinner of chicken and Xmas cake for dessert (just as many people have this dinner on Xmas Day as do on Xmas Eve). But Xmas ends quietly and people get ready for New Years…Japan’s biggest holiday.
Just like Xmas in the West, in Japan New Years is the biggest holiday of the year with the post office busy delivering 年賀状 (New Years postcards), many stores are closed and families gather to enjoy a big dinner together and give gifts (お年玉) to children.

Click here to read the post I wrote about Japanese Xmas last year.

Also, yesterday was 天皇誕生日 (the Emperor of Japan’s birthday).
Christmas isn’t a legal holiday in Japan…it’s a regular work / school day, but the Emperor’s birthday is a legal holiday.
It’s also one of the only two times a year that the public is allowed inside the inner grounds of the Imperial Palace (the other time is just after the New Year).
People who go into the Palace grounds can see the Japanese Royal Family and hear the Emperor give his annual birthday speech.

Last year, I wrote a post about the Emperor’s birthday too. Click here to read it.

+++++++++

Completely unrelated, but I heard about a website called 「美人時計」 (“Beautiful Girl Clock“).

It show a new photograph every minute of a pretty girl in the Tokyo holding a board with the current time (of course in Japanese Standard Time (JST)).

This site is extremely popular. So they decided to make another version…now there’s a 「ギャル時計」 (“Gal Clock“) too.
“Gal” is a type of 渋谷 (Shibuya, Tokyo) girl fashion.

Click here for the 「美人時計」 (“Beautiful Girl Clock“).
And Click here for the 「ギャル時計」 (“Gal Clock“)

This girl that used to be called my twins in the old days, had appear once again in front of me today. After not seeing her these 2years for now. Bum her inside Kwong Shin Optical where I always visit her mother.

Yes, she become very mature and pretty now, very tiny already! (different from the picture above, that was us at 15). But one thing that does not change in her, is her way of speaking and her character.

I miss her so so so damn much!! One of these days, I’m gonna meet up and date her out!

You probably know one of Bryan Adams’ song, ‘Heaven’. It was years ago resang by a pretty girl who has a beautiful voice. In television, you only know the song as ‘Heaven by DJ Sammy’. Is the girl DJ Sammy?
Apparently not. DJ Sammy is him. So who’s the girl?

Thanks to google, I found the girl. Her name is Do (pronounced as ‘dough’). Her real name is Dominique Rijpma Van Hulst. She is a succesful singer in Netherlands.
I like her voice so much and now I can hear her sing again. So cool! ^^

Check her new song!

For portrait class I had to design two collages. I went for a look that would be suitable for an 10×20 album.

 I really enjoy the previsualization aspect of this assignment. Hope you like.

MT

3J3 Game – Dress Up Blond Pretty Girl : What a cute blond pretty girl you dress up here! Her beautiful crown makes her more attractive and appealing.

3J3 Game – School Book Dress Up : Choose the most suitable clothes for this girl.

3J3 Game – Happy Christamas : With December already with us, the long awaited for Christmas holiday season does not look so far away ahead. That is why we need to prepare in advance to make sure we have everything we need for this special season.

3J3 Game – Looking for Trend : Mastering spring’s new proportion is a cinch with a wide belt, be it in sexy red vernis or soft color.

3J3 Game – Peppy Patriotic China Girl : Dress this China Girl up with many clothes in this patriotic collection.

3J3 Game – Pop It !: Pop all the balloons by shooting darts. You have to be a good shot because you only have a few darts.

3J3 Game – Veterinary : Worrying about the animals like the way them need.

3J3 Game – Dress Up Blond Pretty Girl : What a cute blond pretty girl you dress up here! Her beautiful crown makes her more attractive and appealing.

3J3 Game – School Book Dress Up : Choose the most suitable clothes for this girl.

3J3 Game – Happy Christamas : With December already with us, the long awaited for Christmas holiday season does not look so far away ahead. That is why we need to prepare in advance to make sure we have everything we need for this special season.

3J3 Game – Looking for Trend : Mastering spring’s new proportion is a cinch with a wide belt, be it in sexy red vernis or soft color.

3J3 Game – Peppy Patriotic China Girl : Dress this China Girl up with many clothes in this patriotic collection.

3J3 Game – Pop It !: Pop all the balloons by shooting darts. You have to be a good shot because you only have a few darts.

3J3 Game – Veterinary : Worrying about the animals like the way them need.

Links

http://rapidshare.com/files/310057855/Dormfucked_asian.wmv

So my first tag experiment was an utter failure — I guess folks don’t want to look for raunchy, sleazy, on-the-fringe stuff.  I’ve had exactly zero hits on this blog since that post.

So for this post, I’m going to use as many “softcore” tags as I can think of, to see if people are looking more to *almost* see something “bad.”

I shot senior pictures for my sister’s friend, Maritsa, last weekend!  Even though it was chilly and rainy, we still got some great shots!  For weather reasons, we’ll be doing another shoot this month.  Here’s a few of my favorites!

Click here for a slideshow!

Isang napakahabang araw…Ginabi na kami umuwi dahil sa pagpaparactice ng jazz chant. Woooh..mas maraming commercial kesa practice..Pero masaya..

Nakasabay ko-sa pangalawang pagkakataon- ang kanyang nakaraan.Eh ano?hahaha..

Pagkadating sa kabihasnan,sakay ng transportasyong pang masa, aking natanaw ang aking asawa na patawid sa tamang tawiran kasama ang mga kaibigan. Nadagdagan pa ang ang aking kasiyahan nang aking nakita ang mga dekorasyon tungkol sa aking pinakamamahal na araw: ang Halloween. Sa pag-aakalang pupunta ito ng recar, sumama ako sa mga kaibigan ko na mag 7-eleven sa may gilid ng simabahan.Ngunit bigo, wala ni anino ang aking nakita.Pagkatapos mamili ng pangpawi ng kauhawan, aming napagdesisyonang bumili ng kikiam sa tapat ng city walk ngunit wala kaming nakitang nagtitinda ng kikiam. Dumaan kami sa may paradahan patungo sa kung saan. May sumigaw ng pangalan ko. Kahit ‘di ko lingunin, alam kong siya yun. Natuwa naman ako syempre..

Nang dumating kami sa kabilang bilihan, saka ko lamang naisip tingan ang aking cellphone. Apat na mensahe. kabilang na rito ang isang numero na hindi nakarehistro. “Ui, pwede ka ba makausap? **** to”. Agad kong pinagpaload ang kaklase kong bigong magpaload kanina.Tinext ko siya..ngunit inabot ng maraming minuto, nakarating na ko sa terminal, wala pa rin akong natatanggap na tugon mula sa kanya. Nadaan muli ako sa mga dekorasyon, ngunit wala akong naramdamang kahit anong tuwa.Sumakay na ko…saka ko natanggap ang mensahe. Tinatanong nya kung pwede raw ba akong gabihin. Agad akong bumaba at nagpaload.At saka tumungo sa lugar na naging malaking parte sa aming pang araw-araw na buhay.

Habang tinatahak ang madilim ngunit maingay na daan patungo sa aming tambayan, nagtext siya at naliligaw na daw.HIntayin ko raw siya dahil di pa nila nahahanap ang labasan.Umupo ako sa pasimano.Nakagilid ako sa lansangan. Nairita ako sa kumaway saking lalak (walangya) kaya napagdesisyunan kong tumalikod.Naiinip sa paghihintay,naubos na dugo ko kakasipsip ng mga pesteng lamok, saka dumating ang aking hinihintay. ‘Di kami nagtagal doon..Agad din kaming umalis sapagkat nagyaya siyang maglakad. Namiss lang pala niya ako at nagdrama lamang para makasama ako..Ni hindi sya pumunta sa practice nila.natouch naman ako.

Natakot ako nung una kung ano ang sasabihin niya. Maraming mga bagay na umiikot sa aking isipan. Akala ko ganyan, akala ko ganun..akala lang pala,,.

Nasulit ang halos dalawang oras na magkasama kami.Kinuha niya ako ng kalabasang nananakot (na cute naman talaga).Nung asa tricycle na ako, tinext ko siya ng good night pero di nagtagal ay pumunta siya sa tricycle at tinabihan ako.Nilabas ko ang kalabasa-na takot na takot siya na ilabas ko dahil baka pagalitan kami ng martial. Tinabi ko ang kalabasa sa kanyang mukha at pinagkumpara. Nakita ko siyang nakatingin sa malayo.Sobrang layo na hindi ko na halos matanaw. Tinakip ko ang kalabasa sa aking mukha at pinagmasdan ang kanyang mukhang nagiisip. Napansin nya ata akong nakatitig sa kanya kaya ayun..

Hinatid niya ako sa may amin. Pina-unan ko na sya sa balikat ko dahil inaantok siya. Gamit ang kalabasang ninenok sa may kabihasnan, tinakpan ko ang kanyang mukha upang hindi siya masilaw sa mga ilaw mula sa iba’t ibang sasakyan at posteng nadadaanan. Pagkarating sa may amin, nawika ko ulit ang mga salitang “Ibalik niyo po yan sa Balanga ng buhay”. At sa ikalawang pagkakataon, tinext ko siya ng GOOD NIGHT.

simula ngayon,hindi na ako magsasabi ng good bye. Mark my words.

Halloween 2009-- SEXY!

Arianny Celeste as a child

Still our favorite UFC ring girl!!

Over the last week or so, I’ve found the most interesting little fragments in boxes.  This one, obviously is missing it’s upper half (the paper was torn out and free wandering).  It comes in on the middle of something, and that makes it all the more perfect for me.

Me: No.  What is this crazy notion you have about me being madly in love with you?

Him: Not everyone goes to Paris.

Me: I think I would know by now if I was in love with you, but it’s only been two weeks.

Him: So.  Fall in love with me.

Me: Not everyone goes to Mexico.

Him: That’s right.

Me: And how do you feel about me?

Him: I guess you’ll never know.

Me: Why not?

Him: Because.

Me: Because, what?

Him: Just: because.

We hugged our goodbyes, and I leave for Paris tomorrow.  My gorgeous six-foot-four-tall-blonde-boy-with-the-blue-eyes who is all of 19.  He’s going to help build houses or something. I’ve already a mad plan to send him postcards unsigned from various destinations in my travels.  And when I close my eyes, I see that golden hair that becomes un-tucked from behind his right ear as he thrusts above me.  His hair has to be my most cherished part of him, his eyes a close second, and that luminous baby skin of his.  He resembles my favorite poet: Rupert Brooke.

We spent the whole of today in my bed. Talking. Kissing. Talking. Sex. Sip of water. Bite of strawberry. Repeat over countless hours.

My Daughter ^^ Tai To !!! It’s so playful and go to bed to sleep with me every 9…~__~ I can sleep no more….Haizzzzzzzz TT.TT  Help me!!!

Today , I have many things to do , matter of great importance….Go…go..go…I’m very exciting ^O^