Sticky Is A Slut

Adults Only

  • 15th August
    2014
  • 15

Leave

I’m taking a hiatus from Sticky social media (Tumblr, Instagram, Twitter) until the end of the month. I’m beginning my last two weeks of double full-time work and I should theoretically focus on making as much money as possible until then.

It’s more than simply not posting for two weeks. I’m going to try to delete the apps from my phone as to resist mindlessly scrolling to the wee hours.

It’s like, there is so much change and not enough change all at the same time and nothing is really working out right because nothing is really within my complete control and as a control freak, this upsets me. I’ve simply got to stay true to myself, my core values, and my goals. If this sounds cryptic, it’s because it is. All will be shared in time. 

I think I might continue posting photos on my Secret Lives blog - so to the few who are savvy enough to follow it, cheers to you!

See you next month, lovers!

xoxo

  • 10th August
    2014
  • 10
Spent the better part of my late teens and early twenties matching my bras and underwear so 22 year old college assholes thought I was sexy, because sexy was what I saw in a Victoria’s Secret catalog or on a department store mannequin. Now I’m inching towards thirty and realize men who care about your underwear care less about taking care of what it’s covering. Lingerie takes practice, motivation, and money. If you’re doing it for anyone other than yourself, don’t bother. If you do it for you, take lots of pictures of yourself because damn honey you’ve never looked better 💋

Spent the better part of my late teens and early twenties matching my bras and underwear so 22 year old college assholes thought I was sexy, because sexy was what I saw in a Victoria’s Secret catalog or on a department store mannequin. Now I’m inching towards thirty and realize men who care about your underwear care less about taking care of what it’s covering. Lingerie takes practice, motivation, and money. If you’re doing it for anyone other than yourself, don’t bother. If you do it for you, take lots of pictures of yourself because damn honey you’ve never looked better 💋

  • 7th August
    2014
  • 07
Penny and me have some things in common. Penny and I have many things in common. Penny and I are sisters. However, Penny makes the things we have in common look good. I can’t argue with Penny, I can’t blame her, I completely get Penny and everything she stands for. Penny is who I think I am when I’m being a Penny when in reality I’m just being “me”. I love Penny. Penny at the End of the Day is the movie I want to live in, the pill I want to swallow, the color I want to be. Penny. Penny. Penny. Penny and the Jetssssss.

Penny and me have some things in common. Penny and I have many things in common. Penny and I are sisters. However, Penny makes the things we have in common look good. I can’t argue with Penny, I can’t blame her, I completely get Penny and everything she stands for. Penny is who I think I am when I’m being a Penny when in reality I’m just being “me”. I love Penny. Penny at the End of the Day is the movie I want to live in, the pill I want to swallow, the color I want to be. Penny. Penny. Penny. Penny and the Jetssssss.

  • 7th August
    2014
  • 07

I found a dive.

I didn’t have to think long before remembering the Kibitz Room was only three blocks away. Jimmy is bar tending. I don’t know Jimmy but everyone else seems to. “Thanks, Jimmy!” says this girl with a South African accent sitting next to me at the bar with her girlfriend as they flip through pages of Comso and Allure. It’s dark - so looking through fashion mags seems an odd choice to me.

Jimmy is wearing a green and red shirt that says “go buckets” or something and I have zero interest in what it means. Oh, he just said why to a Persian preppy guy ordering “silver tequila”. He’s from Boston and it’s a Boston thing?

A four-piece band plays in the background. “Jimmy!” shouts another patron. This one is a small white dude with a modern hair style wearing a ‘fancy’ Supreme shirt. Hair gel. Pale. Designer jeans. You know the type. 100% Melrose attire that just screams “I’m an EDM DJ”. He hands Jimmy a card and Jimmy is thankful.

"Sure man yeah I look forward to trying that yeah ok man thanks ok cool" that hyped up dialogue that occurs in loud dark bars. Oh, I just overheard. The card guy runs an after-hours things with games and booze and stuff. Jimmy is now explaining it to the cocktail waitress.

This crowd vibe doesn’t match the live music. Singing now is an older Liza Minnelli type and her band is rag tag at best. But man, the sound is nice. Almost too nice. Like I’m an extra in some movie about going out on a Summer night like Manhattan or LA Story or well, After Hours.

The white guy with the skinny on the happening after hours is back and I see now he has an ironic mustache. He’s talking to an older woman at the end of the bar. “Jimmy!” she yells.

The guy who I thought was Persian is actually Indian. I know this now because he just sat down next to me. He’s wearing an Indiana hat and is still sipping his “silver tequila”. He offers to buy me a drink. I decline. We agree we enjoy the music, strangely, maybe because it’s good or maybe because we’re getting older as we’re both 29 and aren’t keen to mixed drinks or hard music.

“Elevator music,” says silver tequila guy, “I’ve never hated it.” Me either I think to myself. Three tall white dudes with long hair and skater shirts walk into the bar and greet the bartender, unsurprisingly. It’s Wednesday night and this dive is alive. Liza starts singing “The Fool On The Hill” in the style of Sergio Mendes and Brazil 66.

“Hey Jimmy!” I yelled, “Can I get another scotch?”

  • 29th July
    2014
  • 29
Falling more each day into destiny and gaining momentum as I go. Nowhere is more real than here and no time more crucial than today, tomorrow, next month, and forever. If I choose to look at life as a puzzle, picking up the right answers and misadventures and important pieces along the way, I can never be blindsided, only motivated to leave behind what is not needed and swallow the bottles labeled “drink me” along the way.

Falling more each day into destiny and gaining momentum as I go. Nowhere is more real than here and no time more crucial than today, tomorrow, next month, and forever. If I choose to look at life as a puzzle, picking up the right answers and misadventures and important pieces along the way, I can never be blindsided, only motivated to leave behind what is not needed and swallow the bottles labeled “drink me” along the way.

  • 21st June
    2014
  • 21
Hey babe let’s chill and drink some margaritas and maybe ride a bike whatever we got a good parking spot it’s LA live your life stay positive get high on yr own supply check your phone again maybe he texted ugh I’m tired of your senior pranks grow up and do this shot with me.

Hey babe let’s chill and drink some margaritas and maybe ride a bike whatever we got a good parking spot it’s LA live your life stay positive get high on yr own supply check your phone again maybe he texted ugh I’m tired of your senior pranks grow up and do this shot with me.

  • 5th June
    2014
  • 05
I had some meetings yesterday that went well. My goals are creeping closer to fruition. It happens slowly, gradually over time in that you pretend to be an adult, you play house, you decorate and buy cute candles and become the person you think you should be and then one day you wake up and it’s really you! You’re no longer playing at life, you’re living it. But I’m lonely. I’m lonely in that way where it’s not sad it’s not happy it’s not anything. I’m lonely in that yearning kind of way, that limbo stick way, that “I’m waiting for something good” kind of way. I’m lonely and I like it. I’m lonely but I don’t want to entertain people and I can’t go out and I don’t want to pick up the underwear on the floor or cook that awesome recipe or lay out a yoga mat but I’m not in a rut I just… I’m content. Though I still need to remind myself daily that this is the time for work and not play and that the loneliness I feel is simply adulthood manifesting in quiet nights alone in my apartment binge watching bad tv and working because I have a “work” computer now which, if you would have told me this would be the case 5 years ago I wouldn’t have believed you. This enjoying being broke and this change in my relationship with money is making me strong willed and patient and fucking excellent at planning. I’ve got all my ducks in a row so I’m sitting back, kicking my feet up and waiting for the race to start so please, can you blame me for needing to be alone in order to resist the temptation to blow my wad on shoes and vintage furniture and trips to sandy beaches? It’s beautiful torture to make a decision then stick with it. People are quick to pat me on the back but don’t they realize I’ve sacrificed spontaneity? Jesus - I even have to plan my wine! I bought five bottles on Friday to “last me the week” (haha) and I still have two (and a half) left! Who am I?

I had some meetings yesterday that went well. My goals are creeping closer to fruition. It happens slowly, gradually over time in that you pretend to be an adult, you play house, you decorate and buy cute candles and become the person you think you should be and then one day you wake up and it’s really you! You’re no longer playing at life, you’re living it. But I’m lonely. I’m lonely in that way where it’s not sad it’s not happy it’s not anything. I’m lonely in that yearning kind of way, that limbo stick way, that “I’m waiting for something good” kind of way. I’m lonely and I like it. I’m lonely but I don’t want to entertain people and I can’t go out and I don’t want to pick up the underwear on the floor or cook that awesome recipe or lay out a yoga mat but I’m not in a rut I just… I’m content. Though I still need to remind myself daily that this is the time for work and not play and that the loneliness I feel is simply adulthood manifesting in quiet nights alone in my apartment binge watching bad tv and working because I have a “work” computer now which, if you would have told me this would be the case 5 years ago I wouldn’t have believed you. This enjoying being broke and this change in my relationship with money is making me strong willed and patient and fucking excellent at planning. I’ve got all my ducks in a row so I’m sitting back, kicking my feet up and waiting for the race to start so please, can you blame me for needing to be alone in order to resist the temptation to blow my wad on shoes and vintage furniture and trips to sandy beaches? It’s beautiful torture to make a decision then stick with it. People are quick to pat me on the back but don’t they realize I’ve sacrificed spontaneity? Jesus - I even have to plan my wine! I bought five bottles on Friday to “last me the week” (haha) and I still have two (and a half) left! Who am I?

  • 3rd June
    2014
  • 03
Walked to my car cloaked in violet vibes and stumbled upon a red-seeded wish so I asked it for a windfall and a bit of luck cuz I’ve been drinking my juice and that damned apple a day maybe soon I’ll feel as light-hearted as the dandelion seeds I dispersed along the parkway.

Walked to my car cloaked in violet vibes and stumbled upon a red-seeded wish so I asked it for a windfall and a bit of luck cuz I’ve been drinking my juice and that damned apple a day maybe soon I’ll feel as light-hearted as the dandelion seeds I dispersed along the parkway.

  • 30th May
    2014
  • 30

I want to work myself into the ground so I can give you the life you secretly fantasize about but are too good a person to earnestly want. I want to write in the sky, “I LOVE YOU” for the whole world to see. I want throw you a party where we’ll serve your favorite food and play your favorite songs and I’ll make a toast to you. I’ll toast you today and tomorrow and in the morning and every morning because you deserve a fairytale life because that’s what I have. I’m living my fairytale and it’s because of you and it will take a lifetime of work and tears and cuts and bruises to show you even a slice, even a fraction of the love you’ve given me. Spoiling you is spoiling me - we two are the most spoiled kids around and though we may be poor and ugly and completely terrible you make me feel like the most beautiful queen. I am the richest bitch on this green earth because I have a love that’s thick like blood and sweet like candy and you, you are my dream come true. So please tell me what I can do to make your dreams come true, too and I all ask in return is for you to take me with you, let me give to you, and love me just the way you do.

  • 29th May
    2014
  • 29
Being a woman is an extreme sport and we’re our own referees. No time outs. No tie games. Just a gloves-off, no helmet ride through this life we’re trying to make a little bit beautiful for the few out there who love us for the right reasons.

Being a woman is an extreme sport and we’re our own referees. No time outs. No tie games. Just a gloves-off, no helmet ride through this life we’re trying to make a little bit beautiful for the few out there who love us for the right reasons.

  • 21st May
    2014
  • 21
The floors are still concrete and the ceilings are exposed. There’s something magical about a room half finished. So full of hope, of possibilities, of the potential to be your favorite space. When I was little, after helping my father at a construction site all day, I’d wait for everyone to go home just so I could dance and spin and pretend the room was mine. I still (carefully) let myself into construction sites once the builders have left for the day. I’ve a persistent curiosity and a relentless need to fantasize.

The floors are still concrete and the ceilings are exposed. There’s something magical about a room half finished. So full of hope, of possibilities, of the potential to be your favorite space. When I was little, after helping my father at a construction site all day, I’d wait for everyone to go home just so I could dance and spin and pretend the room was mine. I still (carefully) let myself into construction sites once the builders have left for the day. I’ve a persistent curiosity and a relentless need to fantasize.

  • 13th May
    2014
  • 13
Dry heat and strong winds mean summer has come early this drought-ridden year. Oh, LA. Where dreams come to starve themselves into a size 2. A city without a heart. Nothing is real but anything is possible. I was born here yet you wonder why I am the way I am, darling. Can’t you see I’m half a person and half a grand idea?

Dry heat and strong winds mean summer has come early this drought-ridden year. Oh, LA. Where dreams come to starve themselves into a size 2. A city without a heart. Nothing is real but anything is possible. I was born here yet you wonder why I am the way I am, darling. Can’t you see I’m half a person and half a grand idea?

  • 12th May
    2014
  • 12
  • 5th May
    2014
  • 05
There are parts of Los Angeles that you can only see by train. They’re the guts of the city, the dumps, the recycling centers, the power plants, the construction equipment, the behind the scenes. And this guy. This guy standing alone and shirtless in an empty lot doing I can’t guess what. The only other other thing in the lot aside from homeboy and his cart was an old office chair lifted a few feet off the ground. What a guy. A king of nothing in his barbed wire castle seated upon his very own iron throne.

There are parts of Los Angeles that you can only see by train. They’re the guts of the city, the dumps, the recycling centers, the power plants, the construction equipment, the behind the scenes. And this guy. This guy standing alone and shirtless in an empty lot doing I can’t guess what. The only other other thing in the lot aside from homeboy and his cart was an old office chair lifted a few feet off the ground. What a guy. A king of nothing in his barbed wire castle seated upon his very own iron throne.

  • 29th April
    2014
  • 29

Wind

Some call them Santa Anas. Others say it’s earthquake weather. On these unusually warm Los Angeles nights when the wind is stronger and more purposeful than usual, you sense danger approaching. Peril blows in from the restless desert in the form of newness, disruption, and uncertainty. Trouble is on the way and it’s coming in many forms. The neighbor’s friendly dog growling and snapping at you. Your lover’s white lie that you don’t catch until you’ve hung up the phone. The smell of the woman upstairs baking cookies. “In this heat?” You shake your head. Nothing makes sense.

You wipe the sweat from your brow and then suddenly the wind strikes the wet on your neck and a chill runs down your spine. You look down at the hand holding the lukewarm bottle of Coors and you watch as goose bumps grow on your arm and you shiver. “Burr.” 

Oh, the Santa Anas. The wind sings through tree branches and makes the curtains in your bedroom billow out like a pregnant belly then suck back in like an exposed rib cage. In and out, back and forth with a haunting howl that grows and fades, grows and fades. Then suddenly - stillness. Quiet. Like a warm wind traveling towards the ocean, nothing is as it should be and you’re scared because you’re sure the earth is about to shake under your feet. The fever won’t break, the climax has come and the dry heat returns so you to start to sweat all over again.

The wind that carried such danger through the night disappears with the sunrise and when morning comes, only blue skies remain. Clear skies. Too clear - blindingly so. The sky is a bright blue canvas stretching to eternity and it feels so fake that you pray for grey or clouds or anything to show you the sky is alive. You wince in the sunlight because there is only blue. Blue like a baby boy’s bedroom, blue like a cartoon swimming pool, blue like a Santorini rooftop or your Barbie doll’s eyes. All other colors are muted and bleached and you’re supposed to forget the fear of the night before. You wonder, what is real? “Today’s gonna be a real scorcher.”