Hello World! Aight, so looking back, it seems like my last post was certifiably emo: too much spa time left me alone with my thoughts, but now I’m ready to produce, play, and party! Aside from my emergence from the sauna, I think there’s something else in the air that’s lightening my mood… and I think I know what that is: to all you people who were born and raised on the left coast, it’s called FALL. Nestled between Summer and Winter, Fall is that happy medium of a season marked by the changing leaves and setting sun as well as knee-high riding boots and nubby sweaters.
Although the autumnal season doesn’t actually start until about a month from now, I’m sooo ready for the temperature to drop. But don’t worry my loyal fans! I have plenty of ways to keep it hot – one of them is my world tour, which kicks off next month. And another one is my smokin’ new Mike and Chris denim hoodie. I mean, I wanted the leather one but I decided to be practical, and living in Cali and all, I settled for denim. Speaking of the age of the denim jacket, I’m getting’ pumped to see that new movie about Woodstock. Anything that has a focus on music and great clothes – I’m there: after all, it is the story of my life. And don’t worry about it, I’ve already picked out the ‘fit that I’ll be wearing to the screening: my cute new woodstock chic mini dress, so I can finally live out my swagalicious flower child fantasy. PEACE!
Ugh, hello world. I’m currently drowning my sorrows amid a kelp-infused mud bath, sipping on cucumber-lime spa water, and hoping that my Kippy will get his bum back in my life before I go cray cray. With my BF gone, what else is a diva to do besides pamper herself? But I can’t spend ALL my wallowing at the spa – that’s why I’m thanking my lucky stars that all the products I’m using come in a cute lil’ travel kit. But sadly, the only place I’ll be travelin’ with my new Bagno Bath Set is home. To wait for the return of my baybay—argh can’t time speed up?!?!
In addition to cleansing my body and spirit over these next few days, I’m also starting a wardrobe cleanse! Ok, calm down y’all, I’ve just been wearing more basic pieces lately, like my new Marc Jacobs Day Lilly Embroidered Dress, in lieu of my usual crazy garb. But I promise it’s not permanent! I’m just on this kick to simplify my style right before I go on tour, so I can really come out with a BANG when I hit the stage. It’s actually kinda nice, my current lifestyle is like the calm before the storm – Saige would be so proud! Namaste y’all!
Yo, sorry I’ve been so M.I.A. these past few days, but I swear I have a pretty good excuse. Lets just say it involves one of the seven wonders of the world, some sand dunes, and the only other person who I approve of sharing my name: yup, you probably guessed it, but I just got back from a bomb vaycay in Egypt with a certain Kip Deshler.
I’m not gonna lie, it was mad difficult having to share my fame with the other Cleopatra, who seems to be—er, it’s hard to say it—MORE famous than I am over there. But being the selfless superstar that I am, I got over it, and decide to pay the late Cleo her dues. Thankfully though, I was the only Cleo in Kip’s eyes: we canoodled amidst the ancient pyramids, and dined by candlelight with a view of the Sphinx. He even bought me a cute pair of Boyfriend Jeans that were just roomy enough for me to navigate the sand dunes in. And of course I upped the ante with my new Foxy Croptop – I mean, if I’m gonna be a global jetsetter, I’ve gotta do so in style!
Ah, it’s weird to be back to the grind (which for me involves recording tracks for my next album, reading incoming scripts, and going to costume fittings for my world tour… not too shabby, I know) – I’m exhausted, but in the life of a diva, there’s no time for jet lag!
Wow – this week I’ve been trippin’. Between planning for my next album drop, going thru a million scripts to find my next blockbuster to star in, and attending costume fittings for my upcoming world tour (No I will NOT be sporting any hooded leotards or Kermit the Frog get-ups, but trust me, I’ve got some looks that will definitely put Ms.GaGa to shame… ), I’ve been running around like a madwoman. Now that it’s hump day (yup, that means WEDNESDAY, for all y’all with the dirty minds out there), I feel like I can finally let loose and celebrate a bit.
I know some people (ahem, Saige) celebrate a long week of work by doing some of that zen yogalates business, but lighting a couple of scented candles and stretching for long periods of time doesn’t really get me goin’. So that’s why I hooked up a nice romantic evening for MYSELF at h.wood (the hottest l’il club for all you babydolls who aren’t in the know) tonight, complete with a bottle of Cris on the rocks. I know most girls’ idea of a romantic evening includes Thai takeout, a bottle of John Duval Plexus 2006 and their loved one… but Kip didn’t bring me back anything good from Ireland, so now he’s gotta suffer.
I can’t wait to wear my brand newJoan long zippered skirt with a pair of killer Louboutins… and I promise I’ll blame my insanely tiny waist on my outfit, and not my daily kickboxing lessons at the Sports Club/LA.
So my boy Kip just got back from doing what he and I do best: jetsetting. But instead of bringing me with him, he left me here all by my lonesome. All right, I know I refused to pull a Beyonce/Jay-Z maneuver and go on another average yacht ride along the French Riviera (yawn!), but I also told the Kipster that I had NO interest in heading north with him to the rainy land of pints and potatoes. No, not Boston (THAT, on the other hand, I would’ve settled for… it’s only four hours from the Big Apple), but no, I’m talkin’ ’bout Ireland, yo!
So I told my boo that after my last record went double platinum, I’ve gotten a little sick of being surrounded by green – so traveling to some land where their national color is the same as my money flow obviously didn’t appeal to me. So while my boo was off in the the land of leprachauns, I was at home, hiding out from the papparazzi tryina start rumors about me being single again. But even though K-man ditched me, he definitely redeemed himself by bringing me back this cute lil’ Kiss Me Tee upon his return.
Well, we’re finally back together at our crib in LA, and get this feeling that Kip brought a little luck of the Irish back to SoCal with him (and I swore that four-leaf clovers were reserved for St. Patties day nail decals… ): the temperature here is smokin’, the beach is lookin’ fly, and I’m finally ready to slip into my hot new Mondrian Bikini. And especially after a week of the Irish drizzles, Kip tells me he’s so ready to hit the trá right along side me. Oh, and BTW – that means “beach” in Gaelic for all of y’alls who weren’t graced with a jet-setting boyfriend or were too busy practicing la langue Francaise in the south of France (and yes that means you, Ms. Sasha Fierce).
This is the first day of my life without Michael Jackson.
Now I'm not sayin' that we were the best of friends or even that I saw him on the regular (I'm no Farrah), I'm just sayin' that ever since I can remember, he has been a part of my life.
The first song I ever liked was ABC and it's weird to think about where or who I'd be were it not for the Prince of Pop. It makes me feel sad for all the little girls out there about to be born into a world without MJ.
I guess you could say that they'll have their own MJ, but that just ain't true! There is not a single man out there right now that's even close to being worthy to take the throne. (Notice how I said man). I can, however, think of one woman... and only one...
Now I know it's too soon to rush right up there and crown myself the Princess of Pop, but just think about all those little ones out there who will have to live one more day without the perfect pop icon to look up to. After all, I wouldn't be in the place I am without MJ so the least I can do is be there for the next generation -you feel me?
And besides I already got the perfect coronation outfit picked thanks to my devilishly handsome and stylish assistant Lorenz. I'm gonna wear my Pink Betsey Johnson Dress with my Alexandra Neel Platforms. Even If I'm not crowned the next Princess of Pop, I'll at least look like I was.
I'm so *&^%! exhausted! Five days and nights of partying my booty off after the Lakers won. I threw THE bash of the century. You know what I mean, the kind of kick in the butt funky you up get down and beg for more party. In fact, my party was so sick that Aristotle Metropolis would NOT GET THE HINT to leave. The boy is rich, but he sure don't have a clue when it's time to go and the party is OVER!!!
My new assistant, Lorenz, did a lousy job cleaning up the mess but he picked out the perfect outfit for me for the party: the Custo Barcelona Dress. So, I can't come down too hard. Oh, and guess what? Meadow had the nerve to show up UNINVITED to the party. She claimed that Farrah drug her along. Farrah wouldn't say, cause she's friends with both of us but it's obvious that "sweet little Meadow" came to spy on Kip and me.
What's really irritating though is that Meadow was wearing a stunning dress by Just Cavalli. Now I know she doesn't have that kind of taste, obviously she's been studying my look and copying me. She'll stoop to anything to get Kip back! Of course Kip worships the ground I walk on. But STILL.
What’s there to say? I’m a STAR. Everyone wants to be me. I sing, act, dance, shop at least four hours a day and have a clothes allowance of thirty thousand a month. Oh yeah, I also sleep till noon and go through men like shoes. (Cleopatra Holmes is a pseudonym owned by vivaswag.com)
