Not trying to make any reference to your OITNB show.
I’m actually talking about the fashion statement.
Everyone looks good in black. And it’s the Parisian statement by excellence.
When I was a teen I had my punk rebel years so obviously my closet was all black.
After I outgrew it I went into a quest to but everything I could in color. Just to bring diversity to my closet. My mom started buying a lot of pink for me. Pink and I are not friends anymore. I wore a logic pink because of her.
The thing is I don’t really own any black clothing anymore. And I want to! So from now on I’ll buy black everything! I started today with black jeans. They are awesome!
"Dumbledore’s Army Reunites at Quidditch World Cup Final"
By the Daily Prophet’s Gossip Correspondent, Rita Skeeter
“But when word swept the campsite and stadium that a certain gang of infamous wizards (no longer the fresh-faced teenagers they were in their heyday, but nevertheless recognisable) had arrived for the final, excitement was beyond anything yet seen. As the crowd stampeded, tents were flattened and small children mown down. Fans from all corners of the globe stormed towards the area where members of Dumbledore’s Army were rumoured to have been sighted, desperate above all else for a glimpse of the man they still call the Chosen One…”
I need this to be handy on my blog.
for another tattoo…
God I want one so bad! There is a couple of AWESOME tattoo places I’ve seen on the internet here in Paris. They all look like I could just walk in, ask the guy to do whatever he wants, and I would walk out with an awesome masterpiece I love.
Problem is: FUCKING PRICEY!
Like everything here in Paris really. When you pay 3 euro for a bottle of water (yes I know it was near Eiffer Tower, but still 3 euro for a bottle???), you can expect to pay everything holy freaking pricey.
The hour of the tattoo place runs for like 150 to 250… Depending on the tattoo…
So yeah… Maybe waiting a bit more…
So fuck everyone….
God I’m so angry…. We were in H&M looking for some clothes for Suiz and we were in line for the changing rooms. There was a man behind me in the line. He kept softly “bumping” into me until I decided to move from that spot. The line moved and the man went away. Then I reached for my phone in my backpack and it was already gone.
That fucker took my phone. With my broken french I tried to ask for help to the helpers and store managers, but there was nothing they could to, the man was already gone.
Goodbye three months old phone… You will be missed.
I have this feeling like I can’t breath right. I keep gasping for air but nothing is coming in. When I try to breath deeper I choke in my tears and my chest hurts. What is this?
One of my childhood friends just had an aneurism back home. she is in coma. We don’t really know what the damage is yet. I’m scared. She was not my best friend and we probably haven’t talked in ages. But she is a good friend. I slept on her house, we ate together, danced together and study together.
She was getting married on November. I already knew I couldn’t be there for her wedding… Now? I feel speechless and I’m hurting for her.
None of my other friends even told me. I saw someone post her picture on Facebook and I thought maybe I forgot her birthday.
Until one of my friends who doesn’t live in Ecuador either called and told me the news. She found out through her mom.
I guess when you leave the country everybody forgets of your existence and that you actually care.
Still can’t breath…