contentment.

i'm laying in bed, hungry, and i can barely breathe. my chest is tight, my eyes are burning, and i'm in a dark house, damn near alone.

i find myself fighting, day to day, with bullshit from every angle. i remember telling mike the reason i'm constantly buying food: i refuse to partake in much of anything that involves my mother.

it's bad enough she's offered the mommy bail out plan that i could not refuse, but heaven help me if i'm not on the straight and narrow path. she expects a lot from me--too much in my opinion. today i flipped on her. i sleep. so what. that's what happens when you have a daughter with fibromyalgia--deal with it. i can't take care of my dad and makes sure he takes his medication on time, when i can barely get out of bed myself. she wants me to go back to school--i don't, and she threw a fit when i told her. i mean, the times are different compared to when she was raised. let me live a little. please?

i'm stressed, i'm over worked, and i'm emotionally drained. i'm surrounded by people that are going no where in life and project such negative energy, that i'm swamped and stuck, sort of. the issue that went down with free people and the fact that it still lingers in my mind doesn't help the situation, either. [the whole story will come later.] times like these, i just want a big ass turkey sandwich with a shit-load of mayo and my munky.

bra-less with a wife beater, glasses, messy pony tail, no make up; the look of contentment..

-- so mobile blogging is not for me.

since i got an iphone for my graduation present, i got the wordpress app so i could blog on the go. [why doesn't blogger have an app??] my first post on wordpress, i cheated and wrote on my computer. my what-would-have-been second post was a complete flop because i obviously don't understand my phone yet, and the whole damn thing was deleted. fml? yes. shit, blogger is just so much easier, so for the first time, i'm copying and pasting my first/last post from happinessandblackmascara.wordpress.com, introduction and all..

i’m ava-marie. brooklyn born, but you’d never assume so. i’m a mutt with mutts for parents, and i say that with pride. curly hair, chinky eyes, and i just got the sickest tan of my life in a matter of three days: i’ll post a picture some other time.

i’m a dancer. i started at the age of four, and i’ve studied everything my studio had to offer. life in that aspect was great until i was diagnosed with fibromyalgia when i was 17. i’d love to explain, but i’ve simply gotten tired of it. none the less, educate yourselves. years later, and against doctors’s orders, i’m starting again; taking it slow, of course. just ballet for now, and maybe i’ll branch out with some time.

i’m a freelance model. i’ve tried the agency thing–so not me. freelancing gives me more freedom and control; i run shit, and that’s how things should be. i’ve been around the industry block, but i’ve come across an opportunity i’m truly excited for: free people’s november catalog. the internal roller coaster ride was definitely a trip, but i can’t wait. the day after tomorrow at 8:30am, i’ll be in hair and make-up, and totally in my element.

i’m bitchy, a bargain hunter, insecure, a sneaker head, strangely open minded, passionate about art, very opinionated, obsessed with marc jacobs, classy, very emotional, a rebel, contradictory; i can go on and on. but those who know me, love me, and those who don’t–tough shit. i’m not popular, nor do i care to be. i have a low tolerance for people and their mannerisms, so my circle of friends is very small–almost non-existant. is it odd that i’m perfectly fine with that?

i’m a girlfriend. his girlfriend. michael. mike. munky. i’ve had more than my fair share of heartbreak, and after my last big break-up, for the first time, i was single. of course, i played the field, but a boyfriend was no where in the picture. honestly, i felt myself giving in to a few people, but the potential wasn’t there. mike was the underdog. don’t ask why, but i love saying that. during those single days, i’d never in a million years imagined myself ending up with mike. yes, we were attracted to each other, but he was a friend. that friendship might have been what saved me from myself; from indulging into another very-soon-to-be failed relationship and successful heartbreak. 4.2.09: mike the friend then became mike the boyfriend. we’ve evolved as individuals, as well as a couple, and for the first time in my life, i fell in love with a friend..

so happiness and black mascara. what does it mean? where did it come from? honestly, i just pulled it out my ass, but that doesn’t make it any less genuine. happiness: my first tattoo, my mantra. i’ve been talking about getting a tattoo since 2007; music notes, stars, ballet slippers, mainly things that i’m about. but when i finally got inked three months ago, there was a lot going on in my personal life. i had reached a low point, and i just wanted to find happiness. i guess you can say i found it on sixth avenue. mike was with me, of course, which made the moment even more special to me. black mascara: the product i can’t live without. i love black, and even more, i love they way it makes my eyes look. i have naturally long eyelashes–everyone knows, everyone compliments, everyone envies–so black mascara is my eyes’ best friend. it only made sense to combine the two.

so this is it; the story behind ava-marie. that’s me. stay tuned–you’re in for a bumpy ride..