Today, I Shine.

Today is going to be the best day ever.

I can feel it in every brilliant bone in my body, every single strand of hair on my head knows it’s the truth. I didn’t wake up late like I usually did. I went running, away from the lazy-ass Lindsay that constantly pulls me back from my perfect Amanda Zizzo beach body. Even when I was getting ready for work I could hear the birds singing outside my window and as my hand carelessly grabbed the first thing in view it just happened to be an immaculate outfit that got me feeling like ” Hi my name’s Lindsay, but you can call me QUEEN”. Yes. Today is going to be the best day ever. I’m supposed to go to Taco Tuesday in Northpark with some friends. Laughter. Food. Love. Absolute BLISS. Too much fun will be awaiting me. But before that, I’m going to be working hard with my friend and assistant Poeiti Bordes to breathe life into my dreams (how wonderful it is to work with someone who shares the same dreams). The work plans that await me are not behind a stuffy office with dividers and Melissa’s who give you compliments at the same time they scheme for your job. No, no, no. My job, my life, my eyes, everything has focused on things or people that make me an utterly happy fool. That’s how I know that today’s going to be the greatest day ever.

Why wasn’t yesterday like this? And is it really just that easy to wake up with such a positive outlook? Who the hell do I think I am, Pollyanna? Na. I’m Polynesian. Yes, it really is that easy.

Who knows why we go through our ups and downs, but its just the way we are. The human blueprint fiends for different, for change, and emotional rollercoastin’. How boring life would be otherwise. So I don’t mind that yesterday I was late and I felt like an absolute whale in my two-piece suit. Because today is going to be the best day ever. Even if a bird poops on my head right as I step out of my car, even if an artist pulls out from an event I booked months in advance, even if my heart breaks a little more because I let it loose from its leash… It doesn’t matter, because my mind is wrapped around the FACT that today will be the best day EVER.

If your day started off bad with burnt toast and a boss who without fail greets you in the morning with stale coffee breath by God, don’t you worry Love. Because tomorrow will be the best day ever.


Lindsay Reva


It’s Thursday and I woke up feeling a certain way, wanting something from everyone. Nothing of material, baby…

Today on this simple overcast day I want you to be kind. Kind and love-strong to your mother, father, brother, sister, cousin, coworkers, strangers (especially), just anyone that comes into your life. Fellas don’t be afraid to open doors for the ladies. And ladies you better say thank you as you walk out that door feeling like a queen. Is it going to hurt you to smile at the gas station clerk? If you see a pink cashmere coat on a passerby that you adore why not tell them? Not for your own good but for theirs. Be good and people will be good back to you. Everything always comes back to you.

If for what ever reason you want to be a rebel and say F%*#! the world. Then I hope more than anything you can at least be kind to yourself.

Have a beautiful day my lovelies.


Lindsay Reva

Street Fashion Week @Evolve Project LA

@glitzandglambytiff Rocking the perfect combination of classy Camo and heels to die for. What a babe.

@smoothcats401 who wore the most beautiful PINK leather jacket that I have ever laid eyes on. Just looking at this picture makes me seeth with envy.

Bonnie&Cylde shades!!

You’ve got to be something special to pull off a turquoise blue eyeshadow patch. If I wore mine in rose, would people think I had pink eye?

Couldn’t stop staring at this cat. Coolness oozed from his pores.

@Rickstarofficial Who ruled the men’s runway. Rick is BAD. What an understatement.

Models, models, and more models.

@welldressedg who is so damn cute and knows it. I. look forward to seeing him on future runways.

Hello Nude Louboutins Queen, I see you.

My FAVS. Gorgeous.

Did I mention it’s St. Patty’s day. 


Tahari, Pearls, Aldo

World, meet James Bond.

Overall, J’adore le Fashion show.

Coolest chick in the audience.

A Tourist In My Own Town


  1. A strong desire to travel.

Ever get the urge to pack up all your shit and head for the hills? Well, let me tell you for me it’s not an urge, it’s REAL. But giving in to all my urges was my past life. I’m trying out this new thing called Adult. Sort of… I mean does my obsession with sparkles and never being able to call my mommy, “Mom” make me a child forever? If so, I succumb to it. But this urge to suddenly flee sometimes hit me in full force and to get away without getting away I play the game of tourist for the day. Luckily I live in San Diego, Killer California where loveliness smiles back at you in every direction whether it’s the beach-babe infested coast, the sin city, the photo op obsessed deserts, or even the Burbs that are turning trendy as hellfire. I don’t know what I would do if I lived in a place like Arkansas or Idaho…Join a book club, get fancy for Denny’s night? No, lets not even go there. Instead, let’s go to Balboa Park where every crevasse holds a special kiss to our senses.


Roaming around this 1,200-acre urban cultural park I can get lost for hours. It’s madness how many randomly placed benches there are. Whose job was it to find homes for these rump sanctuaries? And did they know that people like me would go there to forget the world? Some are hidden and some are out in the open. You can tell a lot about a person by which bench they choose. Mine always overlooks the wilderness trench with deeply rooted trees that make me contemplate my own roots and how far my branches will reach. Why is it that when I feel dark my bench always seems completely shaded and obscured but when I’m as light as air the sunlight swallows me whole? It knows…

The museums are a little too much for me. When I look at art I look for meaning and in that contemplation, my own blue print comes into view which gets in the way of why I went to Balboa in the first place; to get away. So, I keep it pushing past the Museum of Man, past MOPA, and past the statues that look half monster/ half beautiful being. I wander to the fountains and make my way over the bridge taking my time between the rose gardens. Have you ever seen a rose so beautiful that you want to pluck a petal off and taste it? Don’t. Nothing ever tastes as good as it looks (and I might know from experience that it taste rather bitter). That’s beyond the point.

It was bliss to wonder in the kingdom of roses with the sun warming me from the outside where my sunlight inside did no good. In my Steve Madden bag, my phone was ringing. Text message. Facebook alert. Instagram notification. Email. Email. Email. At that moment the only person I would have answered was God, and I highly doubt he would have sent me a Snap. I sat on the grass that overlooked green canyons and warm valleys blocking out everything that had been pulling on my attention for the past week. I inhaled a deep breath that smelt like earth, nature before man. Suddenly something hit me like lightning striking on a clear blue day and in my surprise, I let go. Sitting there held down by gravity and the heavy chains of my responsibilities I could feel my other self’s wings expand as I  flew above the rose bushes, above the tourist taking pictures, FREE FREE FREE. Life was good when you remembered it. Life was even better when you could forget about it. Free at last. 

Slowly I rose brushing the blades of grass off my dark faded jeans and made my way back over the bridge where I had come. I walked past the other tourist who looked fascinated and lost at the same time. What did my face look like? Maybe they could see the secrets that shone in my eyes… Or maybe I just looked like another tourist.

I was searching for something I had lost… But what are you suppose to do when you have no idea what it is you lost? Or if you know what you lost, but it was never really yours in the first place…

Keep moving forward.

So on I stumbled, walking past the pond and looking at the red, white, and brilliantly spotted orange fishes that cost a fortune. Koi meant Love and Eternity in Japanese. I wondered if the Koi fish could feel as much love as human beings did in their imprisoned waters. What about the pains? Suddenly I felt sorry for the Koi’s who swam in and out of my reflection. On and on and on, I only traveled forward.

Past the Old Globe and under arches and Palm trees, past the Japanese Friendship garden whose Cherry Blossoms one day will bloom like cotton candy, stopping briefly before the magnificent Organ Pavillion constructed by the Famous Architect Harrison Albright which first opened on December 31, 1914. Whenever I look at this monument I think of the time that I saw it lit up at night and a public concert was underway. The Organs rang to the masses and I stared at the lights illuminating the faces of so many strangers who had all been brought together because of the efforts of one small human being sitting at the center of the Pavillion playing notes on a bench that her soul knew better than anyone; The Organist at the seat of her instrument.

But I quickly blinked away the memories before I remembered too much and walked to a path which might have been the darkest part of the park just because of all the trees that swayed overhead. The bridge that led me to my salvation was old and wooden just the way it should have been. I was too tired for shiny newness. I didn’t follow the path down the stairs where a couple was having a violent makeout session. Instead I made a spilt for a dirt path that was less used and deeper into the cliff side. No one was there. On my bench… They wouldn’t dare. I sat down and the muck of life fell off me like a dirty and overused cloak. I took my Micheal Kors black patent pumps off and sat Indian style. The Concrete below me was cold and the wind had picked up making my hair brush back and forth from my neck to my cheek. People below me snapped away for pictures that would flood their social media accounts and in their excitement, they were oblivious to me. I closed my eyes and listened to the wind, smiling that no one could see me and yet everyone could look as I sat in my solitude.

As the minutes passed and the lovers took their last pictures I swallowed one last glimpse of everything surrounding me. I was seeing a mess of a jungle in the middle of stunning San Diego and it could have been the very replica of my heart. But that’s okay… I had gotten away and to run away from your troubles is fine, just don’t ignore that urge to take one last glimpse back as you walk away forever. Today I played the part of tourist in my own city, my sanctuary. Nothing calms me more than silence. Nothing can make me feel better than the wind carressing me. Nothing can make me feel more at home than when I’ve been gone. I put my pumps back on and neatly brushed back the hairs that had come loose.

I traced a tiny heart on my bench with my manicured finger as if it was a sealed promise that I would be back. In the meantime, let’s hope my place remains cool. The heat of my life is going to need it. When that day comes, maybe I’ll wear a fedora to blend in better with the tourist. Did I find answers? No. Did I find strength? I never lost it I just simply needed to get away.



Broken Mamba: Fiction

Despite her hate for him and everything he had done (she could still feel the shards of glass swimming in her soul) when they came face-to-face in the parking lot of a gas station their first reaction was to smile at each other just like old friends, or old lovers.

He looked her up and down as he use to do. Measuring her worth as if he knew he had her. While she on the other hand was able to control her traitorous smile into a flat straight line never taking her eyes off of his pale white face and gruff beard that had almost made him look like a stranger if it hadn’t been for the lie of kind eyes.

He had lost weight and his clothes hung on him with a face paler than she had ever seen complimenting his decay by bags underneath his once bright almond colored eyes darkened like soft plum bruises. Her first thought was that he was sick, maybe a lost battle of cancer or maybe he was on drugs. But his teeth told her otherwise; Straight, white, and clean. They didn’t pretend to not see each other nor did they cause a scene in the street. He walked up to her and she stood in place with her feet firm to the ground, arms comfortable at her sides.

Leon. She said his name softly, and no one around would have been able to tell that she wanted to scream the name until the two syllables reached the skies.

Rose. Poison on white roses whispered in the wind, just like he had always said her name.

She looked into his eyes and remembered. How a gentle touch of his finger to her cheek could feel like the earth had disappeared and they were no longer humans but their own species on a planet far, far away. How giving he had been..Of course that was before she had paid for all the happiness with an equivalent if not more amount of pain. She wondered if it meant she was weak. It would have been easy to pull up all the misery he had ever caused yet her mind made the effort to bring back their bliss and faded magic buried under layers of dust and heaviness of hurt.

No. I am not weak.

Leon. This time she said his name just the way he liked it.

“Leon, what’s wrong?” Finally he looked away and his facade chipped away showing an animal aware of it’s fate when it’s placed at the very center of the wolves table.

“Beautiful.” He use to call her that as if it was her name. And she did look beautiful, especially standing next to him, no longer in suit and tie which he had been accustomed to but  wearing soiled pants and a white shirt that bleach could never bring back.  He looked at his feet as if he could read her thoughts and looked back into her eyes making her remember once again. Almost but not quite an apology he said, ” I lost…Everything. The house, the money, my wife- she wouldn’t show him what that word did to her- They even killed my dog.”

She didn’t know who he was talking about but she wasn’t that surprise when he said the word killed like it was a word commonly tossed around in the streets among old acquaintances who meet in parking lots. Especially after what he had done to her. She did know one thing. Before he even said a word of his problems and jadedness which she knew nothing about, a plan formed in her mind like seismic land shift which when split, shook, and pulsed created a brief destruction and in turn formed a new beginning.

He was cut off by her question. “Where are you going?” For a walk. “Where?!” a little bit of the urgency she felt inside started to spill out and she knew that she would never regret what she was about to do. He looked to the east and pointed to a bridge with an overpass. “Home sweet home.” She had an urge to call him a bum, kick him in the shin, throw him to the ground and jab his back with her black widowed Louboutins. You took everything I ever had, and you even let someone else take it from you. She was unsure of what part about that she hated the most. Calmly her hand extended as if it was the most natural movement that she had ever known gently grabbing his his pinky finger. He was led to her white Lexus IS250 which was as polished and clean as her manicured hands. She didn’t think about the dirt that he would rub against her leathered seats, or the smell that comes from not taking a shower in over two weeks. Instead she opened his door and told him to get in. He obeyed with a smile that might have made her feel disgusting if she hadn’t already been engulfed by flames of pity.

The perfect cinnamon lacquered nails pressed the start switch bringing life to the engine and Stromae’s “Formidable” came like a crushed lullaby through the speakers. He brought his dirt stained finger to the volume and Stromae made his exit leaving them with silence that could be felt like an electric shock in the closeness in her car. Of course he was the first one to break it. “So where are you dragging me off to? I might have to charge you by the minute you know…” She blinked at his words that might have made her laugh when she had half the experience and two fold the ignorance. Do I really want to take him there? Yes.

” Were going to paradise.”

He looked at the road remembering how he had studied her and calculated his every move to get her to crumble. She looked ahead at the road forgetting the destruction and started to plot the new beginning.


Lindsay Reva

3 Events 2 Days

When you’re sick with a cold and can barely speak the last thing you want to do is be in a room with people who are searching every corner for a good time, but that’s exactly what happened.

Friday Night

Surprise Farewell for Brenda Pacis who stepped down from her position on Heiva San Diego Board. GAWWDDDD am I going to miss this lovely lady at our board meetings. But that’s irrelevant compared to her happiness. Wherever she goes, whatever she decides to do I know that she will always be a part of my family. That’s the beautiful thing about community projects, clubs, or organizations. Friendships begin and some never end. Auntie Brenda is beautiful inside and out and her stepping down from the board doesn’t mean I’m disappointed nor does it mean she has stepped into enemy territory. On the contrary, I am happy that she won’t have to deal with the STRESS that will strike like lighting when August hits. And where will our friendship go next? We are planning a trip to Tahiti. YAAASSSSS!

Saturday Afternoon

Teachers conference for French Bilingual Teaching Techniques at Alliance Francaise San Diego partnered with the French Embassy in Los Angeles. French teachers are so damn cool. Uriel, Monique, Martine… Even their names roll off my tongue with a little dash of amour. I adore them all, especially when the men wear cute little scarves when it’s 80 degrees outside. And of course I can’t forget what a fantastic job my girls did making sure everything ran like clockwork. They work so hard for what they believe in. I should have recorded how they teamed up on me to buy them chocolate cake. Those pleading eyes, those pouty lips!! I just had to say oui oui et OUI. J’adore!!!!

Saturday Night

Tahitian Punch Tasting. This was my baby and a family affair. The Tahitian punch was made by the most beautiful mother in the world; MAEVA. The poor guest… Punch so sweet they didn’t even know what hit them but thats exactly how you know the punch is good and strongly laced with rum. At one moment I walked into the room and someone who doesn’t usually dance was sweating from head-to-toe because they were twerking so hard. People even started taking shirts off! The food was AMAZING. Poisson Cru, Pineapple Chicken, vegetarian lasagna, jasmine rice, raspberry creme brûlée, Banana Poe. The night kicked off in paradise with some beautiful Tahitian songs and dance and ended in heat with a Fire Knife Dancer that warmed my heart despite the nighttime cold.

Party Party Party Sick Sick Sick. Everyone told me I should rest more.

But you know what? I wouldn’t change a single thing about it. Seeing so many people laugh, smile, my LOVED ones brought Together, new faces… These particles of life are worthy of all fatigue and bodily discomfort.

When the night was finished and I lay down with my feet sore from dancing, my throat gone from talking, and my mind dull from too much thinking, someone crept into my bed and held me tighter than I had ever remembered; his name was Happiness and my sickness started to leave me.


Lindsay Reva

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