Black Dress & Lace Socks: F21
Uneven Chiffon Skirt: Self-Made
Black "Sash": Just Fabric
Clunky Shoes & Magnifying Necklace: Yard Sale
"Ballerina" Thingie On My Leg: Just Ribbon

            On a galaxy far, far away, there lived a girl who dreamed of black seas and walked to the rhythm of Queen. The girl, a gloomy one, knew not a way to celebrate her freedom, so she embarked, yet again, in an obscure and perilous adventure. She would dress up as a grandmoter-ly Dementor, it was decided, and she would photograph the experience like the fool she knew she was. The sad, little fellow lived in a dimension where ancient Greek goddesses would trade their pristine, white dresses to embody darkened robes of desolation. That little girl, who was quite not so little, followed Mary Mack's footsteps by dressing in black. She believed in all colors, but all other clothes were in the wash.

Gah, all year long, I waited for this vacation, and, now that it has arrived, I have no idea what to do. Starting Today, I will try to fill my lengthy days with the wonders of glitter, spray paint, and DIY.


Your hair is sexy.

Is it nanananana or nananananananananana?

Pleather Shorts: F21
"Conversation Satrter" Clock Bag: Stupidiotic
Shirt: Krystel-made
Dotted Tights: Swap Meet
Wannabe Ballet Shoes: H&M(I did the ribbon thing)

         WARNING: Includes the mention of school, which is known to cause various diseases in the state of California. Consult Doctor before reading.

              I am terribly glad to say that in about 2 days my middle school career will become a thing of the past,and will only be acknowledged in the cases I seek to embarrass myself. Meagan is beyond being right on the following: we, the students who've spent plenty of their years smelling decomposing socks in P.E.locker rooms infested with teenage bodies, are not given the entertainment movies and Hollywood promised us. Due to budget cuts, my 8th grade "graduation" was held in the overflowing, sweltering gym, resulting in many of the invited parents to sorta chill at the outsides of the gym cause they couldn't fit. Gym temperatures aside, it was quite lovely, for it was not the ceremony place that gave this graduation business a meaning. It was the fact that we'd accomplished something: getting the hell out. Joking with you guys.... It might have not been this fancy thing, but the fact that our teachers cared for us to give us the ceremony our three years of hard work deserved is thoroughly appreciated. I really like my teachers because (I have no idea how they do this), but they manage to talk about things like atoms, the Constitution, and careers in a way that we can truly relate to and take interest in. It's not the good ol' open up to page 342 and answer the questions. It's interacting with one another in ways that will make sure you remember the shit by the final tests. Saying this with great sincerity, I enjoy the pleasure knowledge and learning offers. Call me a nerd, but I truly do.

          Anywho, as our trip, we went to Knotts Berry Farm, and had loads of throat-killing screaming fun. I even made a batman shirt in honor of the experience. Ahem, Not really. I wore this precious garment because my best friend is one of the victims of the Batman Bug, and it was decided that we would parade through the Knotts park in all our Batman glory. I am not much a Bat-lady, seeing as how I am one to choose busting moves to the Doctor Who theme song over the heroes, but I safety-pinned the logo onto a shirt I'd sewn in the wee hours of the morn 'cause I love my best friend. AND THE LOGO GLOWED IN THE DARK!!!


Let us never sleep.

Having spent so many hours trapped in the consuming abilities of projects, it is only expected for me to get inspired by what I believe where my best efforts in art class this year. The bead-thing (crappy recreation of Larry Fuente's original work) above is actually just a shot of an entire bow bedazzled with hundreds of beads my gnarled, quivering hands struggled to hot glue in place. In my case, I am always either black and white or some sort of light pink color, and i have gotten to the stage where I cannot take any more black clothing in my body. Krystel needs color. The beast within her craves it like a dragon craves its freedom. She must unleash the ecstatic color explosion going off inside her and create some majestic rainbow creation. No more hiding behind minimalist colors, she screams, fury tinging her shrill cords. Color is to be sought and searched throughout every corner of the kingdom, she demands. FOR NARNIAAAAA!

(oh bejeebis, just ignore that lame bit up there, please? I'm running on this fuel I call "I-Haven't-Gone-To-sleep-In-Two-Days X1233NJ")

Forget my frizzin' side fro of a hairstyle, let's admire my chipping nail polish. It lasted a total of 2 days without a single chip; I am deeply proud of this accomplishment.

Behold the bag that erupted the Color flame deep within me.

        One lonely school day, I almost tripped and fell flat on my ass while walking to class, like any other day on my routine weeks of school-going. Tripping and making a fool of myself wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but what I found because of it was. I. Found. A. Dirt-Encrusted. Smiley. Pin. From that discovery, my day had been predicted by the Smiling Gods of Smiley Land to soar and bring smiles upon the smile-less me. Yeah, the pin looked more like a battered button than those nice shiny pins I imagine the the hippest of Hippies sporting, but, hey, it was free. Ever since that exceptional encounter with the pin, I've set my eyes upon on everything that contains smiles. Searching through clothing and images with smiling people sortagives me the creeps, I have no idea why, so I channeled (hate the fugging* word) this, er, whatchamacallit, happy vibe-y energy into the colors I only seem to wear in my head. But that will stop from now on, for I have vowed to follow the colorful path of daisies into the Unicorn meadows of --- Shit, I'll stop this now cause I sound like those "Don't Be Depressed" posters with the images of creepy smiling families. Just to make it clear, I just want a smiley bag, not a "Do Your Work and Succceed" campaign in teacher's rooms.

*An Abundance of Katherines, anyone?


I Love Lucius.

 I can't believe it's pudding!

La Bianca Jumpsuit: Magpie
Red Lipstick: Mac (So I might have stolen it from mother...)
Red Foam Platforms: $5 L.A. Shoe Store
Red Head Thing: Belt From A Coat

               I think I might have mentioned once or twice my tendency to fall flat on my ass multiple times in a day, so when I decided to challenge myself and wear the beautiful platforms that were collecting dust in my room, I knew it would be no easy task. I wasn't even going anywhere remotely fancy, just Wal-Mart and El Pollo Loco, and that's as fancy as it got. According to my mom, with heels, I walk with terrible posture, so until I teach myself how not to walk like Bambi, I will only attempt it in the safety of my home. Mind you, this was, like, my first time ever wearing such high shoes, and it could have definitely gone worse. I only tripped and stumbled into the wrong aisle a couple of time, but I'll live.
                While waiting on line at El Pollo Loco, a creepy man croaked out that I looked like Lucy. Now, I know what Lucy he referred to, but it was such an overall creepy experience I just stood there politely and waited for the lady to hurry up and hand me the food. It wasn't that the man was creepy, cause he was, but he said it in such a low voice that succeeded in sending shivers down my spine. I sound like  paranoid freak, but at least another person that wasn't me got the whole vibe I was trying to take on today. Not necessarily Lucy, but more "50s Daughter Takes On Pudding Shopping While Tripping On Her Dangerously-High Shoes".

*I sorta think I killed my camera cause the lens is all crappy and doesn't shut the shutters completely and I am freaking out cause I don't have money to buy a new one. : / But I like how it looks, so I just contradict myself like crazy.

You know your sister loves you when

In the ruins of Pompei

You see, I take history very serious. Seriously.
My sister has been blessed with this awesome function her camera has, the only thing mine does, is getting broken, repeatedly.
Shorts: Three-Way Thrift
Tiny Flower Tights: Target
Fake Doc Martens: Wal-Mart
Pink Shirt & Polka Dot Cardigan: L.A

                   Hey, remember a couple of days back I was MIA (as usual), well this time, i have a valid reason to be an excuse for my absence: I went to visit my awesome sister. In Italy. I missed her like a , um, sister misses her other sister. Gee, how many brain cells did I burst coming up with that one? Forgetting my lack of wit, it was a place where I felt I became one with art because everything from the streets to the churches covering them blend together, erasing the lines between art and reality. Churches line up the streets and incorporate its ancient beauty with the modern world, transporting you into a dimension where you become the paint in a portrait. It was walking on territory I only thought I could visit in the middle of the night while lost in some crazy dream. Sure, I dreamt of going to Europe (don't we all?) but the actual thought of setting foot there never crossed my mind as an actual thing that could actually happen, ya know, in real life. 
                   But its not all beauty, we got followed by a pervert in Venice. Really the man could have had the consideration to let us tourist walk in peace with our gelato. It was fucking scary, actually. 
                     Oh, that picture where I lie motionless on the ground with a bike next to me? It's nothing really, just a  picture my loving sister took of me after I flew out of the bike and into the dirt. She said all she heard was a loud shrieky "Aaaaaah" from me and then I was laughing on the floor. We took bikes around Popei, and because I can't go a day without kissing the floor, I,um, tripped while riding a bike. Ugh, serves me right for trying to photograph and ride.