"My name is Kaya. I'm from Los Angeles and I'm a ROCKAHOLIC."

OHHHH 98.7! You make me want to slit my wrist for saying that into a tape recorder! And dangle, I didn't think of until later, but I USED MY REAL-ISH NAME. I should have screamed into the mic, "MY NAME IS GIANT SCREAMER! AHHHHHH!" Me embarrassing myself on tape came about the other night when I found myself with the delightful honor of seeing Band of Skulls at a private session @ the Slot Studios of 98.7fm. Star 98.7fm. They're still around? I guess. The band was shy and quiet when the asinine DJ host and fans ("yah! you guys rock! sweet! uh huh!") asked questions, . Since I knew I had to pay for parking ($11 fucking 25), I made my friend take a picture with me after they finished their set. I normally wouldn't do shit like this, but they were offering and I needed to get my $11.25-worth of fun. Enjoy some of the most awkward pictures I've taken in awhile:

Lady bassist, Blonde guitartis, and Sweaty drummer guy. I should look up their names.

Third camera's a charm? NOPE. The only moment of brevity was when the photographer whipped out the 3rd camera (mine and the photographer's was #1 & 2; #3 was my friend's) and the drummer turned to me and asked, "How many cameras did you guys bring? Hahhaha!" I responded with, "We brought a handful." The only better facial expression I had that day. WHAT AN AWKWARD PICTURE. They weren't as disinterested as they look. I enjoy what I wore that day. It's, like, I tried. Thanks, Jaya, for providing the clothes.

-- Funny moment (at least to me?):

Terrible DJ: How did you guys find out that you were doing the New Moon soundtrack? Guitarist guy: We saw it in the L.A. Times the other day? We don't know. They liked the song so we sent it to them.

Is It weird to be obsessed with a fictional bear? DON'T ANSWER THAT.

Smokey the bear. OMG, you are the best. Now I'm on a mad hunt for all things Smokey and will probably spend the rest of my life time cruelly setting myself up for disappointment and misery (again. sadface!) because I know that I will never find exactly what I'm looking for.

all found via google

Wait? What was that US government? YOU SELL THESE MOST FANTASTIC POSTERS (except the first one. The one I want the most, natch)?!?!?! You slay/Bobby Flay me.

T-T-T-T-T-TOO Much Time on my HANDS. (A DIY project.)

ITEMS USED:

• 1 WHITE V-NECK SHIRT
• 1 PAIR OF WHITE CUT-OFF SHORTS
• 1 PAIR OF OPAQUE WHITE LEGGINGS
• 2 BOTTLES OF BLACK RIT DYE
• PARENTS' WASHING MACHINE AND DRYER
• 1 CUP+ OF WHITE VINEGAR
• TONS AND TONS AND TONS OF RUBBER BANDS

PROCESS: I've done lots and lots of tie-dye projects over my young adult life and my closet is proof of my past fashion misfortunes. I have camp shirts, school projects, and personal ventures clogging up the back of my cabinets. On occasions, I wear said shirts while pattering around the house and having myself a cigarette. Anyway, here is how I got everything to where it is now: #1: I found a pair of white tights amongst my sister's shit while she was packing things away. Instead of throwing it away, I decided to hold on to it becaaaauuuuuussse I don't know. Whats can I say? I gots "hoarder disease." #2: I always have a white v-neck on hand. #3: Jaya bought white jeans on sale (like, $7) and she cut them into shorts. She actually wanted these to be tie-dyed black on white (SPOILER ALERT: tooo bad). #4: I had two bottle of Rit Black Dye to dye all my light/fugly/whiskered-colored jeans into the same homogeneous blackish color (SPOILER ALERT #2: toooo bad x 2. WOHHH WOH). So, I basically dumped #s 1-4 into the washing machine (after spending some time snapping my fingers with DUMB rubber bands), plus some vinegar, and hoped to Jebus that something came out. HOOOOOLLLLLLLAAAA! It did. You best believe that I was pumping my fist in the air for this small (smallll) victory. Hey, I don't have a lot going on in my life so I'm high-fiving every success. HIGH FIVE! Now, some worked better than others, but here it be. BOOM.:

This gives another meaning to the term "THUNDER THIGHS." I can holla at that.

This venture might qualify as #10 on my list- can "Ruining clothing" be considered a hobby? Once the v-neck and the short are dry, I'll post those pictures as well.

Message RECEIVED.

Last week, I cracked open a fortune cookie and this is what it told me:

THANK YOU, Natalee Thai Restaurant.

I'M A BELIEVER! I'M A BELIEEEEEEVER!!!

I'm crossing off #s 1 & 2 off of my "Things I Need To DO" list and I'm packing my bags for Stockholm, Sweden!!

Or Helsinki, Finland! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Really, whichever one will have me first. BOOM. Done and done. p.s. I should really try playing those numbers in the lottery.

Hirsute Pursuit (pt II).

It's gonna get weird real fast and real soooon because: IT'S CONFESSION TIME. CONFESSION TIME #1: Sometimes, I wish I was a DUDE. For reeeaalllls, people, FOR. REALS. As a lady (Lady Kaya, as I was known backintheday), I have to choose to wear shorts/skirt/pants/jeans with a tanktop/tshirt/buttonup/fancytop with sandals/sneaks/boots/chucks. It gets real hard, real tough, REAL FAST. But if I was a dude, I'd probably rotate the same three shirts, two jeans, and sneaks every three to five days. But most of alllllll, I'D GET A SLAMMMMMIN' HAIRCUT. I'd either go long, dirty rocker hair length, a la Axl Rose in the 80s-90s (so, sans cornrows), or go totally floppy-top, with the sides and back cut short. Hmmmm, yah. So, hopefully in my next lifetime, I'll be reincarnated into a guy with riduculous hair. FINGERS CROSSED.

Ohhhhh my lady instincts won't let me let go of my long hair just yet, but one day... ONE DAY!

--- CONFESSION TIME #2: If I had the balls to cop anyone's style, I'd take Wednesday Addams style please! She mastered the blank, dead-face stare that I ADORE; she has the whole "floral-on-black-with-white-collar" dress market cornered; BUT MOST OF ALLLLL, she gots some zazzzzfied hair. She has shiny-ness and sheen that could blind a baby's eyes! And when it's coupled with the widow-peak and the "five-head" that she sports..... IT'S LIKE WHOA. JEALOUS.

"I'm a homicidal maniac, they look just like everyone else." HOLLLLA at that. Images from HEL LOOKS, Hoy, Stil in Berlin, StockholmStreetStyle, Oslo Stil, & Google Images.

Hirsute Pursuit (pt I).

I have always had BIG plans for my hair. I want it HUGE; I want rolling waves + a 90s perm; I want to be able to wear my hair down during the coldest, rain-iest, and windiest days and be okay with it. But I also want it long enough to braid so I can live out my Wednesday Addams/Swedish milkmaid/Pochantas/Tonto dreams. But what I really need is a trimmy trim trim for my split ends. Wohhh wohhh. The damns internet and its fancy websites have just fueled the fire that I call, "Kaya's Next Hair Dream Checklist" (the title lacks some zazz but the pictures more than make up for it). --- Kaya's Next Hair Dream Checklist: 1. I adore BIG hair when it's to done the 90454094 power (but leaving the hairspary in back in 90s). But I adore it EVEN more when it looks like its been lazily pushed to one side or haphazardly knotted in a high bun.

2. I was born with dark black hair that had hints of purple when the sunlight hit it just right. In my teenage angsty years, I dabbled in the rainbow array of colors ranging from magenta pinks to turquoise blues. Just last year, I dyed my hair the various shades of chocolate brown (milk to bittersweet). But now I have settle on a "intense auburn red," as indicated on side of the L'oreal box. It not quite as vibrant as these ladies, BUT I'M WORKING ON IT. Soooo, QUIT hasslin' me.

Images from HEL LOOKS, Hoy, Stil in Berlin, StockholmStreetStyle, Oslo Stil, & Google Images.

Knee deep in the best crap we can buy.

Jaya and I are on this constant and manic quest to find new and different thrift stores. It's like an addiction that we have to feed and fuel every couple of weeks.

It can be exhausting, frustrating, exciting, or ridonculously MIND-BOTTLING. We can either come away from the experience with some great, if not interesting, goooodies, or just achy feet and smelly, grubby little hands.

However, sometimes amongst all the rubble and rough we find little gems and diamonds that make the hunt and gather alllll worth it (save for the smelly paws: ugggh + grody x 430924809 million). Here are some of the best things we have found in the past few weeks. ENJOY.

I'm getting closer and closer to my "porcelain" (aka REAL) "baby hands" dreams. BABY STUMPS!

---

Jaya found this very ADORABLE 45 LP holder. Some of the detailing is lost here, but there's embossings of cats playing flutes, windmills (HOLLA), princes, and rabbits in costumes.

---Mmmmmmmmm, DRAWERS. And yes, I do have enough pink, red, and purple pens to warrant (almost) individual compartments.

Goals ACTUALIZED. Maybe. Ehhh, soon? BOOM.

Evidence of my janky-ass handwriting (aka AWESOME) and my love of lists. HOOLLLLA.

Other week, when my sister and I were having a late lunch @ Ichima, she gave me this wide-eye look and said, "YOU should make a list! You know, of things you want to do and go!! Exclamation point, exclamation point!!!" She was all KINDS of excited when she handed me one of the many, many pens floating around her bag and a discarded pay stub envelope. Here is what we managed to come up with in between stuffing our faces. ENJOY:

1. Move to/(or AT LEAST) visit Helsinki, Finland.
2. Move to/(and MOST LIKELY) visit Stockholm, Sweden.
3. Hand make and hand bind a "A Big Book of Crap (aka 'stuff')". Screenprint images, cut-out construction paper animals, crudely hand-drawn patterns; all in all, another way to remember the things I love.
4. Hunt for as many thrift stores and flea markets in the Greater Southern California area. *REMINDER: Venice Beach, Santa Monica, Culver City? And OHHHH, the fabled flea markets of Yucca Valley and surrounding desert cities! Done.
5. Get my shoulder/upper sleeve tattoo DONE already. Quit crying about it and GET IT DONE (and doner).
6. Get Baboooshka tattoo; thanks-a-plenty for letting that one goooo, Jaya.
7. Do something with WOOOD; i.e. woodburning images, build-a-wooden-box, BUT NOT whittling. *REMINDER: look up that homie who does those ink relief pressings of wood grain.
8. Go BACK to Salton Sea (see: Niland), Yucca Valley (see: flea markets), 29 Palms, and Joshua Tree (see: night photography, building my future desert oasis).
9. Cook/bake more things from scratch: i.e. cookies, bread, tastier cupcakes, biscuits, smoked salmon, NUTELLA. *REMINDER: create an picture album entitled "I Can't Stop Stuffing My Face or Holding Forks and Knives in my Hands." I gots, like, 343984238 pictures. DONE.
10. Find a HOBBY.
11. Watch AS MUCH T.V. as humanly possible (and movies), via Netflix. i.e. Parker Lewis Can't Lose (half way finished!!!), The Wire, The Professional, Legend of Billie Jean (for hair cutting/bleach blonde tips).
12. MORE Waterfalls! I don't think that I've seen enough of these glorious phenomenons in my life time. *REMINDER: Niagra Falls, Eaton Canyon.
13. Get HEALTHY. But still take as many "stuffing my face/fork & knife in hand" pictures.
14. Eat breakfast. Hopefully, that doesn't negate former.
15. OHHHHH ohhhh: LOOK LESS SCOWLY-FACED. I've gotten tooooo many compliments on how "angry", "bitchy", or "ANGRY" I look in person. Me standing around = Me pissed off? Apparently.
16. Finish reading books. I can start me a book, but finishing it is a whole 'nother ordeal. *REMINDER: Lolita, American Psycho, Lamb, The Fountainhead, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, amongst others.
17. Carlsbad: go to the Painted Hills in San Diego, CA and go to the Caverns in AZ.
18. Visit Machcu Pichcu, Peru. Save up enough $$ to buy awesome masks, ponchos, beanies, and a bundle of alpacas/llamas.
19. Pare down closet, drawers, and cabinets. I gots, like, 10 jeans and 23840923842 jean shorts, but I only wear 3 of the former and 4 of the latter. I also have enough grey t-shirts to last me 20 life times. That's not good.
20. Go back to Paris and London to find thrift shops and tattoo parlors (to buy SLAMMIN' shoes and fur coats, and to get sad, ill-advised tattoos of the Eiffel Tower and Harry Potter).
21. LASTLY (for now): Learn how to write more SUCCINCTLY and CONCISELY. Ain't nobody going to read this great American novel of a post.