don't leave without a cuddle.

We went to bed kind of fighting. Kind of, meaning, I let my mouth run off, spewing the most offensive dangling modifiers and other grammatical errors. Your face was tucked into sweaty forearms (your own), back against me and my unapologetic face.

You might have been sleeping.

We didn't cuddle that night, in fact, far from cuddling we were magnetically pulled apart. You were drawn towards the wall and I was half falling off the bed's edge. Usually, we like to do this weird "couple-ly" thing: We spoon, legs entangled, your arm probably cramping from the weight of my head. This practice is especially fervent right before your flights back to Seattle. I was also wearing this incredibly unflattering and unsexy potato-sack of a t-shirt to bed. But you're not shallow like that anyway ("it's what's underneath that counts"). Haha.

As usual, the alarm goes off at 4 am and your uncomplicated process of leaving me begins. I wake up this time, and with one eye open, watch your dark figure move unfettered by emotional exhaustion, morning breath, and regret. Lump in throat forms and I want to wait until you leave before lump snowballs into tears.

"I'm leaving, babe." Silence and low-octave mumbling ensues.

Crawling under the covers one last time, you wrap your leather-jacketed arm around me because you know that I'm praying so hard for this and that I'm biting my tongue for all the mean-spirited comments and childish follies of yesterday. And despite my brattiness, you risk missing the early flight for one more cuddle because our next is two weeks away.

This is why I'm in love with you.

Anthem Magazine, c'est la vie

The dark days of print-publishing awaits us magazine fanatics at the gates of digital hell and all we can do is pray that our favorites don't succumb. Luckily, only a handful of mine has (weep-sob-Punk Planet RIP).

I recently received an email from ANTHEM magazine, advertising their latest "fashion" issue, with a short but sweet announcement that the magazine is going quarterly. And in these words:

"It seems like we can't spend a full day without stumbling on someone's premature obituary of print media. Anthem wants to prove that what seems impossible can be answered with what's least expected: bigger, bolder, brasher. We'd like to think we're running full throttle into the future with oversized ambition—critics and so-called common sense be damned."

So basically, I'm thinking Anthem is the west coast's answer to V Magazine. Might be too early to speculate, but we'll see. If that's the direction it's heading in, Anthem's got some work ahead of itself. And while I was never a huge fan of the writing, I respect the magazine's design work. Anthem also threw some pretty dope parties at Coachella.

Click to subscribe

what's my dosha

No visuals today folks, unless you're where I am, positioned at a 45˚ angle on my bed (back arched), propped up on a stack of pillows, and staring out of my window wishing my flu would pass. My visuals: A green bush and occasionally, a couple of flies looking for a crack in the window, a pathway to my disheveled bedroom.

In the last two years since I started working full-time, I've been sick more than I had been in four years of college. If you don't count that one month when I had that weird stomach thing, college was pretty unexciting for me at the health ward. I guess I was more "experimental" then- I cooked all the time, tested the limits of my physical aptitude (does trying out for the hip hop dance team count?), and wasted time on the internet learning about raw/macrobiotic/vegan lifestyles. The outcome? Good skin, enviable metabolism with a diet that consisted of mostly fresh veggies, and a kick-ass immune system.

A 9 to 5 does weird shit to your mental/physical health. Your day is spent in an unfriendly chair, in front of a really bright screen. You rely on stimulants like coffee or cocaine-er-just kidding to get you going in the morning (seriously kidding). And after work, an exhausted robot-copy of your former self wants to do nothing but veg in front of another bright screen and eat really really bad food. This was my life the first year out of school and while the situation has improved since then, I still don't feel 100%.

Fast forward to this very moment, my laughable immune system trying to battle the flu. PSSH. It's like watching Bush's press conferences- pathetic. The good news is, I'm inspired to get back on track- eat better, sleep more, drink more water, blah blah. Chill out on the coffee and bad sugars. This is also why I've taken an interest in ayurvedic eating...

find out what your dosha is.

and find out what that means.

the end.

NY TIMES OBITUARY

I meant to post this earlier, but we truly lost a literary genius.

A true poet.


Sigh.

obama-rama

While I’ve been conveniently finding ways to distract myself from being engrossed in dinner table/water-cooler/insufferable DMV-waiting-line discussions about the elections, I really can’t help but be (engrossed). I already know who I’m going to vote for– but with all the recent press coverage of Palin and her disgusting neocon ideologies, I can’t help but stew. I also can’t help but go on these anti-McCain/Pain message boards and stew some more. But then I realized that simply reading political commentary and getting pissed off is pretty ineffectual in the grand scheme of things, especially with only a month and a half left before knowing the outcome.

Now’s the time to mobilize. Whether you are a Democrat, an Independent, or a Republican-for-Obama, now’s the time to encourage discussion and education about the current state of affairs and America’s opportunity to heal. Even if you’ve been zoning out for the last year and a half, now’s the time to go read those candidate platforms and decide whether or not you can handle four more years of hell with a guy who has voted over 90% of the time with Bush and his potna-in-crime who doesn’t believe dinosaurs walked the earth.

Most importantly- you must register to vote, especially if you’re an Obama supporter. I’m hearing a lot of “but we know California’s in the bag” or “it’s too complicated”, but you must vote because you CAN. Because if you don’t, you are squandering a right and a privilege that that some other people in this world would die for. Because frankly, at the state we’re in, we just can’t afford to hand in our rights on silver platters.

Anyway- along with a few friends, I’ll be throwing an Obama/Biden fundraiser early October here in Los Angeles probably at the Mountain Bar. Please keep your eyes/ears out for more info. Let’s send those Republicans packing!


Image VIA System of Operations

last life in the universe

A long while ago, my friend Miguel shared one of his favorite movies with me for my birthday and I recently had a desire to watch the dvd again. Last Life In The Universe directed by Pen-Ek Ratanaruang still ranks as one of my favorite movies of all time. I'm not so much a movie buff, but I know what I like and this film weaves together mesmerizing visuals, a beautiful storyline, superb acting, and even a little cameo from Takeshi Miike himself. If you like the Wong Kar Wai type of film-making, you're in for a treat- thanks Mig.

In seeking out an enticing trailer, I came across a US version and a Japanese version. The former appears darker, more melancholic whereas the latter highlights the romance, and dreaminess of the movie. Not to mention the voice over narration that sort of bogs down the US trailer. I much prefer the fluidity of the Japanese trailer, but I guess it IS a whole extra minute longer...


US VERSION


JAPAN VERSION

I xoxo PJ

I have matters of the heart to discuss.

I secretly love Peter Jensen.

As much as I try to remove myself from the Alice In Wonderland aesthetic of brands like Tsumori Chisato and Eley Kishimoto, I can't help but fall in love with Peter Jensen time and time again. His collection is never really complete- I always feel a bit uneasy but intrigued, kind of like the "Matthew Barney-effect". Not always sure where he's going, but always, always, sure that he has wild dreams that rival a speed-freak on LSD. I guess in a way, he's really representative of British fashion design. Colorful, experimental, and almost like poo-pooing on whatever is in mode everywhere else. Peter's A/W 2008 collection was precisely that- a little bit of the moody blues mixed with "grandma's sewing room". And now that it's officially Autumn- enjoy!

sk8

Be there or be square- Tomorrow night at the DGA theatre, gotta RSVP.




I don't know much about skating, but I do know about Andy Kessler-


via Deathbowl to Downtown blog

I went to New York City and all I got was this fake Polaroid

I stumbled upon Henrietta Swift’s portfolio and really love all of her past and current projects. Her bio tells me she is an illustration student at Brighton University (UK) and will be graduating next year. I see a bright future for this young designer.

Below is my favorite of her work- her “I LOVE NY” series in which she faked a trip to New York by altering Polaroids using the old-school, cut and paste, method.