sunday afternoon

bf: let's take a nap together... naked
me: im not having sex with you
bf: WHY NOTTT!??
me: i just took a massive dump

occupation

stealth ninja by day...daydreamer by night.
whattaya think i was going to say- street walker? honey, i dont come cheap.

i have a day time "career". I write it with " " because well let's be honest- my job sucks donkey balls and that's the damned truth. it would be a blasphemous lie to write it without the " ". i'm all about the damn truth today people... nothing but the truth.
if daydreaming could be a job, that would be my full time 24/7 career. ill be the all star employee of the decade.
im the girl w/my head in the clouds... all the time.

w/that said, i will now divulge one of the fantasies that i harbor.
see, i want to be a writer. i dream about writing a novel one day. however. i am pretty aware of my lack of discipline. mainly- my biggest vice is having fun. some people smoke crack. some people slut around. me- i love me some fun.
i could prob have a real career, as opposed to a "career" if i was ready to give up some of my social time. however i am not. i not only love to have fun, i am great at it. i know how to have a damned good time. i enjoy the act of creating/partaking in an amusing situation.

however, i'm the fucking laziest piece of shit i know.
my friends and i always wistfully wish for a pill that can make us drunk without having to endure all the drinking. pop a pill and ooweee- im drunk!
fast forward the pain and hassle and get to the good part already fools!
that's pretty much what i want for my writing career.
fast forward the writing aspect of it and get to the part where my novel gets published and sells a fucking gazillion copies and i become literature's It Girl. not only will i be the youngest but the hottest.
this is one of those wistful "realistic" fantasies of mine. not the fantasy fantasy ones were you know- i get transported to an alternate universe where all the females are butt ugly ( except for .... me!) and the males are hot as models. im talking about a semi-fantasy that could be based on reality.
so to concrete that "realistic" element and not just gloss over the writing of the novel aspect of it (cz then that really would be pure fantasy), i fantasize that i would go on a 2 day coke binge where i am at my creative apex. i bang out my revolutionary novel in a 48 hour continuous span. i imagine the scene with me sitting at my computer with sweat pouring down my disgusting unwashed body and my vacant eyes crackled with red as i feverishly type away w/angry jabs.
not only will i not shower, sleep, pee/poop.. i will also not eat (coincidentally allowing me to lose 10 lbs- hooray!). after my coke binge is over- i will fall asleep and wake up to my novel ready and saved on my computer.
it would be a bit too easy to let myself off like that so i always throw in another "realistic" element to balance out the pure fantasy of it.. like i would then be a slightly tortured soul for a few months as i try to pull away from the allure of the sweet white girl and all her dirty charms... my friends and family would rally around me as i finally make my break.
the bittersweet success of my novel will anchor me down as i vow to never touch drugs ever again. drugs-bad. say no to drugs!
sometimes i even bargain w/myself (my real self) on exactly how much of a give and take there is. how much am i willing to give to get what i want?
how about if i only have that one successful novel, never to write again? oh fine. ill take it- just give me that one novel first!
that's the general fantasy.

that's always been one of my secret fantasies. i occasionally pull it out of the Rolodex of my mind to enjoy like a good glass of wine. ahhh.
today was one of those days and i had wanted to share that sweet fantasy with you all.
of course- i've never tried coke before in my life. really.
nor would i even know where to get it. or would i know how i would react. or even why i think it would pull me in some sort of creative nirvana (fantasy much?).
nonetheless- file that under weird ass shit my mind thinks of.

models... we're just like you

my my, what a sad unforgiving lifestyle we models live. all we do is maintain! our! figure!
T - 0 = Tonight is the life! the night to end all nights. the night to end all nights to end all nights.
ive been subsiding on oatmeal for the past week.
even as i write, i am forcefeeding myself spoondfuls of this grey gruel called oatmeal.
i cannot wait for this party to be over with so i can rock out w/my fat out. no more bikram and dieting. no more oatmeal with flaxseed. no more sobriety. no more counting calories.
sunday.. ahhhh, my day of freedom. i am going to gorge and drink everything i can get my hands on.

hello there

salutations and apologies.
girlninja is back from the dead. a phoenix risen from the ashes. a reborn soul. a soul, reborn. bitches im back.

so i have a lingerie party this weekend to go do.
being the lard of lazy ass that i am, i have only made half hearted attempts to get in shape. these half assed attempts include the spartacus workout and bikram yoga.
needless to say- when you do bikram one day and then binge drink the other night- there's going to be some canceling out of sorts.
Today, it's exactly T-5 days till The Night.
im pumped up for some extreme finger down my throat action this week.
kidding. i do not condone bulimia or anorexia.
brb.
ok im back. just finished sticking a spoon down my throat to hmm.. err check out how
my tonsils are doing.
day 1. morning. oatmeal.

cha-cha-cha changessssss

From EirikAswang of etsy...
if i had the money, i would buy everything!





my original intent for starting this blog was to have a haven for my writing. that was my initial desire. as you can see, after much ado about nothing- and me being of fickle heart, ive decided to mix it up a bit. start a bit of shit, if i may.

i dig fashion.

so im going to start incorporating a bit of my personal style up in this joint.
it's all a work in progress. (har har- i used to think the correct term was 'working process'. me so fob)
it'll be evolving as i feel out what works, what doesn't.
girlninja is growing up.
change is in the air- embrace it bitches!

in which girlninja reveals what a fucking snob she really is

ok i have a confession.
here it is:

1. monogrammed shit does not = fashion

i. hate. monograms. period. i detest them.


with that said...


you know what I hate more than hair in my food? guys that wear lacoste and/or burberry polos, seven for all mankind and/or true religion jeans and mongrammed gucci/prada shoes. this is the rich man's version of jersey shore. dont act like im not speaking the truth. it's like friggin ed hardy^2 X $100.

there's nothing more smug and pretentious than that whole faux bourgie look. esp when a guy drives a civic.

first of all, you can't get more basic than a polo shirt. it's a collared short sleeved top. the style has been around since the dawn of men, it's been around since the first neanderthal frat boy decided to chop off the sleeves of his collared shirt cz he was hot. not hot like david beckham hot, i mean hot as in 90degree weather hot.

a polo shirt is a polo shirt is a polo shirt. period. there's no artistic difference between one from the Express men and one from Burberry. the only difference is the perceived one in which a guy who makes an effort to wear designer polo shirt thinks he is making a "fashion statement" cz of it's label. but in actuality- it only demonstrates his lack of styling capabilities because the mere fact that he thinks a designer polo is the epitome of class? well- that just goes to show you exactly how lacking he is. it's just trying too much. what's nothing worse than a failed attempt at fashion. cz it highlights that 1. you're trying too hard. 2. you failed miserably.


also seven for mankind jeans.. for men? hmm- I used to wear those … in college. their time has passed. it's over. time to move on. that brand will not be resurrected it! if you're going to make an attempt at fashion- dont default on filene basement bargain-wares and fail miserably.

there's a difference between style vs brands. some people throw monogrammed sht on and call it fashion.

you know what's sexy on a guy?
levis and a vneck from hanes.
that's sexy. it's effortless. it all comes down to effort.

perfecting the art of living, while slaying boredom along the way... that's the girl ninja motto.
im notorious for drinking a lot. and sleeping a lot.
deadly combination my friend.
sunday morning, superbowl sunday to be specific, i woke my ass up at 1pm. parked in front of the computer. was supposed to go to a superbowl party but was too lazy. didnt move except to pee and eat. this continued until midnight. if my life was a reality tv series, it would feature my back against the glare of the computer screen. in fact, at a passing glance, one would easily confuse the viewing of my show as a desktop wallpaper due to the fact that i dont move at all. the only indication of time passing would be the gradual sunlight dimming into twilight.
that sunday, i finally fell upon bed w/a sluggish sleep hangover that lingered well into monday afternoon. a sleep hangover. sleep. hang. over.
my body was plagued by ... too much sleep. who does that??
so now im aiming to chip the boredom away, one hour at a time.
so far- ive taken up going to the gym again.

1. it takes up a good hour block of my time.
2. keep me in ninja shape.

forget the social flurry that was my december. mama has bills to pay and she's staying home.

what up my bitches?
yeah yeah so im late on my weekly post. blow me.

thanks to the altar of homoerotic lust that is called Spartacus: blood and sand, i now have lotsa new material for all my sexual fantasies.
extended full frontal MALE nudity on eps 2. lotsa ripped abs. muscular men in elevated heights of macho machismo. gay undertones at every bend and corner.
my perverted imagination went into overdrive after eps 1. im writer. so when i tell u my imagination is going into overdrive- it's fucking bonkers up in here. if my mind was a ride, it would be zigzagging warp speed 9 over galaxies and comet clouds. it would be a roller course that resembles the beginning to end of a yard long spaghetti string scrunched up in a bowl. man, if i was a porn director- my movies would be tim burton crossed w/ang lee epics that win oscars.
it's enough to rival that of the collective fanfiction universe! obvs im kidding on that. u dont mess w/the fanfictioners.

so yeah, girl ninja is excited about spartacus.






they have cheestastic dialogue that include gems like 'hold your fucking tongue' and 'imagine his cock in your mouth'
i can't make this up even if i tried!

my little piece of heaven

how are you today, love?

today is a kinder, gentler girl ninja. she is in a maternal cocoon cooing state of mind. she's floating around like pigeon feather in the breezy summer skies... coo coo... coo coo...

so i have anorexic eyebrows. ive been raping them since i was 13 and they now resemble two scraggy anemic lines.

lesson learnt kiddies- never rape your eyebrows. when i have kids- they will know 3 languages, how to play the guitar, how to snowboard and how NOT to have victimized eyebrows.

i mean, there are no options left.
you cant draw them in cz then you will end up looking like your aunt w/the angry blue eyebrows.
or worse yet- the cholas with the sharpie brows.. u know- like they took a sharpie and drew in two half elongated half moons above their eyes and called it a day, er week. (cz you know, sharpie lines last a long time)

at the moment, i trim them. im very anal about trimming the brows.
and i draw them in lightly w/ a brow pencil.

on any given day- my slight of hand sometimes manages to create beautiful works of symmetrical art. perfectly tapered, not too dark or light. just the right amount of arch. on other days, the skill is off.
my brows are the compass to my mood. good brows today? good ninja.
lopsided brows today? chokeabitch ninja.

i wish i had frida kahlo brows. then i would wax the uni and have perfectly shaped caterpillars.

style board

here is a double post to make up for my negligence.

this joint is called girlninja style for a reason.

mishmash of outfits that inspire me. see a trend?
love the casual chic w/slight masculine touches.















ill leave the polyester bebe/guess/arbenb whatever outfits to the youngins

I fail at life

so much for my weekly update!
i apologize dear reader, girlninja has been one bad ninja.

and what excuses will i be pulling out from my bag of tricks? welllllll....
coakley lost the senate seat to brown. i mean hello- im a dem in bah-ston! my entire family including my 74 year old chinese father trekked out in the icy weather to vote for coakley. we dems are a proud bunch.

yeah... i believed that just about as much as you did.

i did just come back from a 3 day weekender snowboarding at sunday river where i had a fabulously lovely time. however i developed the following malaises:

1. slightly sprained right thumb
2. a fucked right big toe. i don't know exactly what's wrong with it but that shit is hurting and there were fleeting moments when i wondered if i would have to get that sucker amputated.
3. bruises
4. BED FUCKING BUGS. AGAIN! MOTHERFUCKERRRRR ME.

so yes- on top of my bruised ego (dont cry for me boston!), my bruised body, i will still churn out a weekly entry.

when substance is lacking- distract away w/pretty things.
w/that said- i am adding a picture for you to admire.




why you so hot boy?


i think im one of those odd people that have very conflicting personalities. im sure everyone thinks they are 'special' like that... that no one understands them but really- i think im all over the place.
maybe that's my claim to fame- my ability to be mediocore at every personality trait. im not particularly quiet, nor am i particularly not quiet.
my moods are like pendulums- they swing either way. or should i say my moods are like bisexuals- they swing either way. har har. (minimum of 1 corny joke to be slipped in entry- MET)

different people describe me differently. im not consistently one way w/any set group of friends. im just... all over the place.
when i was younger, i had wanted a signature 'personality'. something that defined me. something that i was known for. the only thing that i became known for was my 'ice stare down'. i could bitch stare you down faster than zoolander. (minimum of 1 corny joke to be slipped in entry- EXCEEDED)
my bitch stare down has since evolved into a subtle more sophiscated gentle lifting of the left eyebrow to denote superiority and disdain but that's beside the point. i guess im not a girlninja but not yet a woman ninja.
did i really utilize a britney spears circa 1990s reference? im on fi-yah today!


let me end this awkward entry as painlessly as possibly by adding more pretty things...

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9-5

name: girlninja
occupation: daydreamer

60% of the time, my head is in the clouds. i have this little fantasy i like to entertain. there are different variations of it but there is always 1 singular theme.
let's say it involves hot men.
and me.
and can get a bit x-rated.
kidding.
not.
sort of.
the x-rated parts are only subplots- but really, the main main storyline is as pure and chaste as my dick is big (if i was a guy that is).

whenever i get into one of my moods- it takes a lot for me to plummet down back to reality. usually- something spectacularly amusing must occur in my actual life to pique my interest.
once my trance is gone- it's gone. i can't force my mind to transport back even if i wanted to. im squarely back and center, focused on planet earth.
it's a sigh of relief (no one wants to end up being the fat kid watching anime while eating butter alone at night and married to an avatar. and i dont mean the james cameron avatar).
but it's also bittersweet.
it's like saying goodbye to your childhood.
there's a certain seed of sad wistfulness that sprouts these leafs of fantasy.
i still have a certain naivety, and by naivety i think i mean carefree irresponsibility, that i have one foot planted firmly in reality and one foot planted in my own little lalaland.
so keep on dreaming playa*...

*author's footnote:
i realize i like to throw in a lot of hip hop vernicular up on this joint. im not quite sure why as my day to day jargon is pretty proper and posh. im not valley, im not street. most of the time i speak like im a therapist psychoanalyzing something and i look like the most benign sweetest little girl you've ever seen.
i dont know what the reason is but somehow it just feels right...
maybe my alter ego is a chola?
tag: girlninja
occupation: choke'abitch ninja

Goal #2

Those that are avid readers will know from my previous entry that Goal #1 was to get back my booty shaking hot teenage thang body. the gym was frequented today. success.

observation:
Going to the gym takes up all my time usually reserved for doing nothing. i mean really. wtf is that all about?
ill be the first person to say it: im lazy.
i like doing jackshit.
i like to park my ass in front of my computer and let my mind turn to mush as i surf.
really, it's like im barely conscious as my fingers clicketyclack away on the keyboard.
what do i do? i couldnt tell you even if i tried. my brain has no recollection.
a little of fb. a little of email. a bit of celebrity gossip. a bit of my usual plethora of favorite blogs. refresh. and repeat.
and before u know it- it's bedtime for me.

anyhow- i bring this up because this whole working out daily thing brings up a very good question. if one spends all their non working hours working out at gym... then when does one have time to go out and show off sexy body by wearing skintight spandex?? it's a vicious cycle! no one gets to appreciate the visuals of said slammin body.

if a tree falls in a forest and no one is around- does it make a sound??!!
if no one gets a chance to soak in the hotness of a well defined body- is said body really well defined??!!

this is just too deep for me. im not sure if my mind can process this much right now. dear reader, i will leave this for you to ponder.
as for me, i will go along to my main entry point, my Goal #2.

Goal #2.
I will attempt to update weekly. naturally- expect stupidity and vapidness to ensue. and lotsa of it. (reference previous potty humor entry as a evidence).
that is all.
good day and good night to all.

2010 starts off with an explosion

what kinda explosion? the dirty kind. and i dont mean dirrty (oh xtina). but dirty.
in the past few months- i think the season spirit got the best of me. i went a bit overboard with the drinking... the partying... the eating... the drinking.. the women... and the men... oh and the shoes. my collection is growing by leaps and bounds!
my faveee #1 prized booty thus far: a pair of 5 inch swedish hooker shoes gone clog. me loves it.
even though dear friends have described it as "ugly clogs" and/or "gross clogs".
what can i say- i love things that are tres polarizing. when you vehemently despise or adore something- it speaks so much of the item. u know it ain't some bland GAP, BR, Jcrew shot out the ass loafers. it's different and that's why it causes such a strong reaction. and for me- my reaction was the instant adoration kind- the 'momma and her newly birthed child' kind of connection.
anyhow- the past few months got the best of me and i found myself growing a buddha belly. the maternity chic hasn't been that popular w/the boys. so i vowed to go back to the gym come 2010.
and what better way to kick off my 2010 diet/detox than catching a stomach bug! oh yes. for the past few days ive been squirting out everything ive eaten.
what a great jumpoff for my diet. im already 3lbs lighter.
it's like nature's bulimia... but for your bum.
how lovely for me.

well im signing off now. gotta go shit.