2009: Predictions. Decisions. Ramblings*

*not resolutions.

Predictions:
Amy Winehouse dies.
Toronto Star dies.
Recession defines fashion trend: the return of grunge. It’s practically already here anyway. We’re just going to strip back the sequins.
Is tranny-disco-dance-synth over in 2009? I think it might be. Sorry Hercules. You had a good run. The Foxes are taking over.

(how hot is s/he though? seriously. legs for days.)

Decisions:
Improve posture. Stop obsessing over what/who consumed you in 2008. Ski. Swim. Be nicer. Be craftier. New York. Argentina.

Go on the Christian Bale Machinist diet of “water, apples, whisky and cigarettes” after watching Cate Blanchett for 3 hours on the big screen one particular new year’s day. Oh, and I’ll probably need skin graphs too. She is fucking flawless.

Upon completion of Christian Bale diet, fly to Brooklyn and propose to Wes Anderson already*.

*ok, this might not happen.

Ramblings:
January 2: I am sick of nazi-themed 2009 already. Stop whoring genocide for an Oscar already, Hollywood.
2009: New York. Berlin. Brazil. I am too young and too old for the mediocrity that I have been putting out this year. I own nothing, owe nothing (well, not emotionally anyway) and should fear nothing about moving up. And on.
Toronto: Is it over? Why, when I own little more than a bed and a few thousand scarves have I become provincial? I have become a city-body (re: homebody tied to a city)…..