welcome

Shopping for labels, shopping for love
Manolo and Louis, it’s all I’m thinking of
Shopping for labels, shopping for love
Manolo and Louis, it’s all I’m thinking of

I already know what my addiction is
I be looking for labels, I ain’t looking for love
I shop for purses while I walk out the door
Don’t cry, buy a bag and then get over it
And, I’m not concerned with all the politics
It’s a lot of men I know I could find another one.

What I know is that I’m always happy
When I walk out the store, store
I’m guessing Supercalifragi-sexy,
Nothing to be playing with
I love him, hate him, kiss him, diss him,
Tryna to walk a mile in my kicks

Love’s like a runway but which one do I love more
No emotional baggage, just big bags filled with Dior
Love’s like a runway, so what’s all the fussing for
Let’s stop chasing them boys and shop some more

I know I might come off as negative
I be looking for labels,
I ain’t looking for love
Relationships are often so hard to tame
A Prada dress has never broken my heart before

And, ballin’s something that I’m fed up with
I’mma do the damn thing, watch me do the damn thing
Cause I know that my credit card
Will help me put out the flames
I’m guessing Supercalifragi-sexy,
Nothing to be playing with
I love him, hate him, kiss him, diss him,
Tryna to walk a mile in my kicks

Gucci, Fendi, Prada purses,
Purchasing them finer things
Men they come a dime a dozen,
Just give me them diamond rings
I’m into a lot of bling,
Cadallic, Chanel and Coach
Fellas boast but they can’t really
Handle my female approach
Buying things is hard to say
Rocking Christian Audigier, Manolo,
Polo, taking photos in my Cartier
So we can’t go all the way,
I know you might hate it but
I’mma shop for labels while them ladies lay and wait for love



Labels or Love, Fergie





the greatest thing you'll ever learn,
is to love and be loved.


can't believe i didn't foresee this.

Friday, March 25, 2005 ( 5:01 AM )



My maid ran away last night.

I should have saw this coming, what with my mother’s warnings and all. And beneath all the outward suspicion and mistrust—that I lay on everyone, generally—in my heart, I still held firm to the belief that she’d be one of the rare gems that stayed on to the end.

I guess I was wrong.

But how can you possibly blame me? Out of the millions of maids we’ve had in my fifteen years of life—trust me; even though every maid has a two-year work contract we’ve had a record for dumping them after a couple of months. Or weeks, for that matter—she’s the one I was the nicest to. She was, safe to say, my friend. It was a love hate thing but she was still someone I confided in, and she in me. Though I’m not very sure whether she confided truths or utter lies.

But the point I’m trying to make here is… I trusted her, somewhat, and she disappointed that trust. I never really feel down whenever things like this happen, because I don’t really give a damn about the maids, and although I know life isn’t very easy for them, well… I just don’t care.

But now I’m feeling sad, not that she’s gone, but that she didn’t go the proper way. The way I envisioned her to. But who’s to say anything? For life is as predictable as… as…uh, something unpredictable.

This morning I was worried whether my parents would have charges pressed against them, by the police, or Enny [my maid, fyi] or whoever. (enny ran out in the middle of the night with a few of her things, went all the way to Queenstown by herself, I don’t know how, and got put into custody by the police. I’m not very sure whether they found her or she turned herself in. either way, I’m not very pleased) But now I know my parents will be okay, but I’m still moody because I’m upset with Enny.

Sure, last night I yelled at her, maybe a tad unreasonably, for spilling my expensive soap. But that’s it. I mean.. Because of the stress, I think, lately I’ve been having a pretty explosive temper. And enny’s been the brunt of it, but not deliberately. I mean, I think I’ve told her a thousand times in the span of her employment never to touch or move my stuff, but it never seems to stay in that corrupted head of hers. But anyway.. I don’t think that it’s because of me, just me, that she chose to leave. I mean, mom said that she’s had her bags packed long ago anyway. I’m just afraid that they’ll blame me for all this.

They’re bringing her back home later. Ha. I bet she didn’t expect that. She probably expected she’d stay in a master suite in the police station, and a royal jet would swoop down from the sky and come pick her up and send her diving into her to-be husband’s arms. Fat hope.

I’m just thinking how I should react, and how I will react, reflexively, despite all this thinking. Should I be numb? Or pretend nothing happened? Or ask all the questions floating in my mind? Or scream at her, make her cry, laugh, angry, what? I’m just…in bewilderment.

I can gamble on one thing, though. I bet she’s gonna cry. She’s gonna shed those reptilian tears and attempt to make everyone fall in love with her happy-go-lucky self once again.

Well, kiss my ass. I’m not gonna fall for that. And if she makes like it was my fault, she’s not gonna have a pretty final week.

Forget catfight. It’s a catwar.

If she thinks she’s gonna step all over me, she can bloody well perish the thought. She’s always asked me whether she could use my phone to message her boyfriend in Indonesia. Well, wait till the skies turn silver and rain money. Then, maybe I’ll lend it to her. She broke my trust, and it ain’t gonna be easy to get it back.

I think that when I go home later and see her dingy face, there’ll be one thing I’m certain I’ll do.

Pretend she doesn’t exist.

funny thing is, i was upset with my parents for scolding and hitting me last night, because i was yelling at the maid, over the soap, and because they said they weren't going to allow me to have friends over or go out anymore, which i don't do often at all, btw, and i was thinking of leaving the house for school extra early this morning because i didn't want to see my maid'd face. i sorta wanted to run away.

ain't that ironic.