Say goodbye to this red a million times in this here blog post now, cos tomorrow it’s gonna be MIA. Going back to blond. Brown with blond highlights. To lift this red is going to be ridonkulous. Just before the weekend was told that they all discussed my hair and think I will look best brown/blond. It’s expensive and doesn’t happen over night I said.
Ch ch ch changes!
I am apprehensive about my hair frying. My colourist said to start stripping it today with head & shoulders plus club soda. I don’t have dandruff so it was embarrassing to buy that shit jk don’t care. The club soda and head&shoulders turns into a paste and also will soften my hair she said. Makes sense because all the dye build will be coming out. Will def have to get a trim too. This is exhausting to think about. We were so close this time to getting my screen test perfected. I feel like the more I delay and prolong it the more chances of jinxing fucking everythang. I’m on edge man!
Had smoked meat sandwiches last night. I wanted to buy him flowers for his retiring from vball but got these instead. Manipulating a bruh with food is ten times smarter. He will think I am a food provider and stick with me because if he sticks with me there is a distinct possibility of getting more sandwiches. Guys are complex but not really at all I am embracing my feminzai side more and more cos I yolo. Happens with age.
Speaking of it’s my birth month! At the end of March I’ll be 32. Last year was my champagne birthday, I turned 31 on the 31st. NOW turning 32 on the 31st… I can’t even. I do not identify as “older” so I won’t and will not be starting to anytime soon but like, lets be real, 32 looks like a HUGE number I think I am finally experiencing that getting older panic attack one experiences. Last year did I feel older, nope. 31 is young and cute. 32 is disgusting. Whatever. It will be my goal slowly over time to improve each part of myself that I hate. People tell me lately that I look great like it happened over night, um I wish. What you’re currently experiencing is a long con (jk) I mean, when my hair was shorter and thinner and fucked from being platinum I knew that I would look like how I look now, eventually. In like 3 fucking years. This is the fruits of my many labours because I have no more aces in my sleeves and no more phone-a-friends.
That sounded insanely desperate but I’m insanely honest.
My last post was pretty headcasey but so what it’s pleasure blogging. Some people really read into it though. I’ve acquired a lot of online friends over the years, naturally as most do. But sometimes they all pile up and demand my attention from all avenues and I get caught up, distracted, and I love the contact don’t get me wrong but I see myself as this high-functioning creative producing machine that should never be turned off so sometimes I just can’t talk to you, you just have to let me breathe.
Ok I’ll stop whining.
Bloggers are just (can be) very skittish. I’m like an open wound at all times if you think about it. There’s part of me that is very numb though otherwise I could never do any of this. I mean, I’m cognizant always but sometimes it’s in an on auto-pilot way which is very much dedicated to the undying pursuit of self-preservation. Like what am I even talking about here I’m such a fucking idiot. You love it though I think so the dance continues.
I went out Saturday dressed like an idiot. Jared was a zombie (after/during Boylord practise) so didn’t come out with me I made him drop me off and tried so hard to sell him on the action but nope. Solo mish it was. I feel like no one wants to go out when it’s cold, and don’t for the most part and the only people out there with you are totally insane people. Bored people. What did I get up to? No comment. I’ll just say that I love being anonymous out here and feeling anonymous even though I bump into randoms that I’ve already be-friended at some point or other out here you know what I mean. This one chick was like I don’t know anything about you, who are you? WHAT? When I was telling her briefly all this ridiculous shit about me. There’s just no point, you meet so many people, who sticks and who doesn’t. Wait to unload it all once you’re sure. That’s why I enjoy meeting people from online because they already know everything about me and can just enjoy spectating me IRL like a specimen, ooh look it’s talking now.
Being kinda flat (I’m not flat i just look it sometimes) and then wearing a big boob bra makes you mega-egocentric/self conscious cos you think everyone is looking at you ten times more but they’re not. They’re normal and used to boobs. You’re the only boob. Do you guys like that I am learning things finally? Enjoy it until I evolve into something else you despise. just wait til I’m 40 #scared.
Speaking of 40, this fucking 31 year old called me forty because her (girl)(as in female) friend had the hots for me but we nexted her. I heard her say it over the phone and said I’M 31 YOU FUCKING BITCH. But in my head I was like I’m 32 :(. It’s cool though it’s totally normal for younger ordinary chicks to make age cracks because they’re competitive and cannot compete with older cool chicks. Do younger chicks attack Kate Moss’ age if they lose to Kate Moss, of course not they go, it was fucking Kate Moss duh. Some people just get chosen and some do not and people fight the battle when the war is already won peeeeeeace.
The beast just needed to be unleashed what can I say.
I bought that sweater when I was 19 I have no idea why it is still here it’s a belly top my arms are cold but my stomach’s not.
Ab work is never done.
Yeah I’m happy to add blond to my hair come to think of it.
I will miss my view.
I am cutting this shorter because I rambled on for too long. Blogging is way too indulgent for a Monday!
Hey there, happy Saturday. Boy what a week lemme tell ya okay I won’t.
A blogger is often faced with challenges like anybody else out there, but to blog these challenges? No fucking way. You blog around them which is exhausting but do-able but also not because you’re exhausted from dealing with “real life” matters so now why in the hell would I feel like spinning a whimsical post about fluff? Sometimes the two just don’t mix.
It’s funny that so much good is mixed in with the tough bits I feel like a jerk in ever complaining but I guess it is just my nature to focus on the bad. When everything’s right something’s wrong.
I met a very zen lady yesterday whom inadvertently ended up giving me a free counselling session. Part of my melodrama crying was based on sleep deprivation and a mild hangover and fatigue from the week (I do do a lot of things I just don’t tweet or blog every step of my day because I annoy people enough) but anyway I was kinda crying a bit and she turned into this talking self help book. She was SO nice in fact I was wondering if I was being hit on through all this niceness because she said a few things that seemed above and beyond. As well as said I was beautiful several times. I guess she really thought I was super broken or something when really I am just always emotional. I think when I cry sometimes it affects people because it’s like a clown crying which is the worst.
Like if you see your Dad cry or your Mom or like basically any fucking thing you just want to sit on a grenade for them?
I can tell a story (and have) about someone else crying in an emotional moment and start blubbering right there. I should be an actress perhaps I bet I could cry on command.
I hate crying though because I look like a melted cake when I do and once I start I can’t stop.
Where am I even going with all of this I think I am essentially just apologizing for not blogging again does anybody even care not really you can get your fill of me pretty much anywhere else in-between these Raymazing posts yeah? Yeah.
Today’s blog title came to me weeks and weeks ago. I was having a conversation with myself in a future interview about blogging, making a joke about not really making it after all these years. I really wish I wrote down the whole thought. I assumed this distraught and overlooked thing would be enough to lead me to the rest of it.
Oh right the nice lady, she told me to do yoga and take vitamin d because it helps with her depression big time. I need to do yoga to bring myself down she said because I am so hyper-active. I need to keep this hyper-activity flow going though because it burns calories. I just don’t think I can ever relax. Yoga is hard also, there I said it hahaha. I have made fun of everything on this planet that there is, including yoga, because when things get trendy that’s when my big mouth opens up. The last time my mom and I went to yoga we almost died. This was during a fat period of mine where I did zero exercise so yoga was basically like a marathon to me.
But yeah I wanna do yoga in a class and I want to be one of those girls with a mat and a bun and a re-usable bottle of water and be made of sunshine.
Speaking of sunshine, will have to add some blond highlights to my hair for Tuesday. You only get one chance to make a first impression. They like me. I said I’ll do it but it cannot damage my hair, is expensive, doesn’t happen over night and… I dunno I just thought I was going to be red for awhile. I have an extra box of this amazing dye if there’s any redheads out there right now, I can think of several actually.
But when they mentioned hair it made me switch nerves from body focus to hair and also my face focus. Am I ready? Yes. But am I also shitting myself too? A little. I know the camera lighting on my face was good so not that worried about that. The goal is to make you look good not like shit like another tv outlet kinda did. 1. I looked shittier then and my hair sure didn’t help but they don’t have flattering lights. I guess we soon shall see shan’t we.
Also there will be a private compare of my body then and now. It’s been a month and a half and I’ve lost 10lbs, maybe more. My period is over, ending, and all women love that time the most cos yer all flattened out. I was basically like can we screen test on a skinny day please? My last one was just before my period when you’re a fat water retaining bloated pig.
Can I just interrupt here and say that this is the journal of a female so if you have qualms over hearing TMI things about periods, feelings, other hormonal shit, please take a look at the colour and layout design of this blog (FLOWERS). End of argument.
I mean I am done talking about it and now we can move on to talking about cooler shit.
The closing party is tonight for comedy fest. I am debating just how much trouble I feel like getting up to tonight. My bf is away and will most definitely be being a gong show himself. Should I retaliate? I mean should I go out and do the thing that I wanted to do because that’s what I do? Or do I go to that 90’s party in the city I REALLY want to go to because a girl I admire and will be working with is throwing it does it make me look bad to not go? But I also dont want to do anything because I want to look fresh as a daisy on camera, why can’t I just go out and not be a bat out of hell? But my boyfriend is out what if I go nuts and send him a million psycho texts if I stay in?
That’s my mind guys now do you see why I am exhausted.
Comedy Fest is closer though and fun as hell as well as funny. I am such a comedy groupie. I think I annoyed like everybody there though that’s why I didn’t go again last night I was giving them a break from me. I always think that because it’s true. I feel eyes on me all the time. My mom is way better at tuning it out, I’m not. I’m like mom that woman is staring daggers into you and us because we are taking selfies. She tunes even ME out and I am left eyeballing some buzzard out of the corner of my eye who is 100% staring unabashedly. I think my problem is I interpret the looks as negative or critical when really they’re just staring at my Raymi outfit which stands out. Sometimes I look put together like a cute delicate slob I get it.
Shut-ins typically think the world revolves around them. The person staring at you is probably a loner too. In other countries and cultures you two would just speak, say hello. In Canada there are walls. We break them down with booze. One comedian only became nice once he had some rye. I didn’t want to sit at their table because I understand celebrity mentality, it’s supposed to be an honour. They have so much ego. But people like my mom don’t care about shit like that that’s why her stupid ex infiltrated Laurence Fishburne’s personal space at fashion week and snapped at him.
Here I am happily standing beside this bowl of fruit and a security guard thinking he’s just checking out these hot chicks nearby us but nope he was security for Laurence Fishburne, who was in the process of reaming out this guy.
I see Morpheus and I get my camera ready and then this PR chick (whom I also pissed off in a previous life) shoves her hand in mine blocking me and says hi I’m blah blah remember me, then I flashback to that brunch we had together and I was like oh right, oh great now my family is pissing you off AGAIN. Cool!
I am basically blacklisted from Toronto because I am caustic and naked.
Do I give a shit though? Nope. I feel like things are going to shift pretty quickly soon.
I call it the long con. hahaa
Wild sucked the life out of me but I would watch it again. I love women stuff right now, more and more. You know? We are an oppressed people if you think about it. I have a handful of fucking idiots in my facebook who always get us going when I post jezebel shit and I just want to take a flame thrower to all of their posessions. You know, HURT THEM but like, in a funny way. I’m not one of those feminists you have to hate. I’m the fun kind! Because we make it up as we go and we’re always right.
Now I must prepare for Boylord. My ironically named band because I am and always will be happily gender-confused and fine about that. I used to be president of the Parkdale Boys Club don’t forget. PBC WHAT
Hello hello. As promised and delivered my fancy night on Saturday. Make sure your socks have suspenders because they might get blown off by this post you never really know what crazy shit will come out of me.
Or the imagery! I apologize that this isn’t a picture of both of my hands but then who would hold the phone to take the picture? Trust me I have considered hiring someone to drop in and take a bath picture of both my hands. You think up all kinds of awesome shit in the bath it’s the best place to think which has the least pens.
Sidenote, hung out with my literary bruh yesterday, read him a ton of raymi shit and he’s motivated to start pushing me again I mean not to brag or anything but this writing you’re reading is really good.
If only there was more time and motivation and like a monkey helper to just do it all for me. So tired.
I feel like I will have a book soon though.
My literary agent is ten times more lazy than I am. We last left it at talking publishers ok nevermind. My buddy (different guy) is going to turn his blog into a book, it’s all time we did that.
In true Raymi fashion I was spinning him yarn after yarn yesterday and he said, have you written about this before? Why not? What’s so cringey about it? I mean I think I’ve done all these crazy fun things in life just so I could write about them eventually anyway.
In about a month I’ll be able to focus and map that out more. Am moving. Also new gig starts up next week.
Here I was gonna talk about my date and then I went back to Capital Me. Oops.
Had pho Friday. With extra veg and meat. I always manage to weasel the best bowl (a small), and never have to pay for the extras. Meanwhile the guy always gets the large, doesnt finish and it has more noodles and less meat veg or just as much as my small. Second time this has happened now.
I am probably part witch. Not evil but just very good at getting my way. Don’t worry, lots of bad luck shit happens to me too no one is that blessed.
Bag of green. No more cheating. Had chinese yesterday. Idiot. Every little thing counts at this point. I’m one of those gains 5lbs from thinking about salt body types. Luckily I am stressed out of my mind and generally unhappy which keeps the weight off.
My hair is very red today. I added some red to my conditioner yesterday (a trick and tip to keeping your red) also my girl at shoppers said the more red you add to your red makes it more red. The red build. I see. I see. Lots of cold showers too of course ugh.
and hot baths don’t forget.
Winter is boring so a lot of exercising happens. Diet as well as exercise and you will get results. It’s a no-brainer and it’s not starving it’s just reduction of nutrition (aka “food”) coupled by willpower and spiderman climbers. Dating a volleyball player (on the side of his real job) has perks. Though it can be annoying when you’re already huffing and puffing and you get corrected on shit you have no extra energy for and want to be in your own zone, then we get in an argument about it. That’s what trainers are like though, they motivate by irritating you and it’s not a good session unless you want to launch them into outerfuckingspace.
Speaking of, my old gym and trainers wanted me back in there to help me get fit for my new thing but I did it all myself. I figure, once I am commuting into town more often it will be more convenient to do both. Living out here and coming in to train and then to what, get into trouble in Toronto? Becasue I most certainly will. So if decided that I still need to slim down (prepared if that’s the case) then I’ll go train at TMR again. I prob will anyway. I know the commuting alone makes me lose weight. Seriously. Anyone who is a lazy shut-in blogger knows that when you schedule appts and go out into the world leaving your precious cave at home, you’re gonna lose four pounds that day. Well at least that’s what seems to happen to me then I’m like I did all that running around I should probably reward myself with a bowl of pesto pasta mmm.
I am always fantasizing about pesto and maybe one day eating it. If you play mental food games with yourself it can help you deal with all the restrictions.
Glad we went to Pepperwood instead of the Keg. The Keg on a Saturday is like walking into a zoo of annoying suburban elitist families frowning in the waiting area because they don’t take reservations on Saturdays it’s a first come first serve basis. No thanks! Also it’s douchey, wasn’t in the mood for that kind of douchey. I live near Pepperwood it’s just so much easier. The girl playing live music was good too. Normally when I see the musician come out I’m like oh great here we go but then she was mellow and played (current) songs I knew. Some soloists make it all about them and have whiney ballads. I know Boylord would be a super annoying dinner band because I am just, really annoying.
All I wanted on Valentine’s Day was to wear this stupid little thing I bought and have a photo of it in my instagram feed like I won Valentine’s Day. I wore it a weekend later instead. Oh well. On V Day we hibernated. Yes Valentine’s Day is a dumb tradition that’s turned into competing with other chicks and like no romance. It was basically like go to shoppers and take out a shelf of crap then give it to me so I can ignore you for an hour instagramming this pile of shit while we eat chocolate. Cool.
I had the beef tenderloin and finger me potatoes. I didn’t eat any of them though. The tenderloin was Raymazing.
I bought these in Holland. Love them.
Slimming down makes your bigger underwear, funderwear. Like yay it’s fun that I can remember when these gigantic things were skin tight on me lol.
Not the best lighting in there.
I don’t know why I bother censoring it. I guess if it was my intention to instagram it where someone always flags me. I also recall when I was able to change the size of these stickers but something seems to have changed. Catwang is still cool about that though.
Winter whining forever.
We finished watching Banshee. New episode on Thursday so no we haven’t finished it exactly but you know what I mean.
I just thought about all the laundry I should be doing today.
Tried to get it all in. Next time I’ll take off my shoe and rest it on the counter. I can’t find that specific picture right now though it’s the guy with his Timberland boot on the bathroom sink so you can see his whole outfit bahahha. Or I can do an extreme selfie.
A woman gave me stink eye for using my flash to take a pic of my beef tenderloin. Bet yer ass I gave her “the look” right on back. We stared at each other uncomfortably for 5 solid seconds while I squinted my eyes but I broke the look first to go back to my date. I almost asked CAN I HELP YOU? I did look back again at her and she was looking again while talking about me to her date. YES it’s “rude” to use a flash but it’s not that big a deal. You do have the capacity to ignore our table. We’re fine-dining and we are photographing it for the internet. We bought it, we commemorate it you can take your foodie rules and shove them up your ass. Why are you sitting in the bar area where there’s more action if you want no flashes going off then?
I’m not fully inconsiderate though. I will make a point to not use the flash the majority of the time as a courtesy gesture but again, when I go places if I want to take pictures then I will. No one in this life has to concern themselves with what others are up to. If you’re so offended by everything why are you even going out? Women give me dirty looks all the time no matter what I’m doing so I don’t care anymore. I have a present for you it’s called YOLO.
We’re lightweights, it doesn’t take much to get us going. I think after our first sip we laughed for ten minutes about absolutely nothing. A facial expression can set us off. Or an accidental lips whistle, oh god don’t get me started ahhahaa.
Shared mussels. Goooood and garlicy.
What’s going to happen when I have really long red mermaid hair like Cousin It.
Saw my mom Sunday night for the Oscars and more booze cheating went down as it does. I’m her date tomorrow for some comedy thing she’s working. Will have to see if bf wants to go to that bet he won’t. I don’t think he wants to meet her haha. He didn’t meet her the first time around that we dated somehow managed to skillfully avoid it.
When she gave me these I was like what moron bought them for you. There is no chance she’d just go out and get me underwear for valentines day yeah right but anyway she’s like this is so a Raymi thing but even I feel too old to wear tights like that more of a Hailey thing.
I dyed Nana’s hair. She’s going away for 5 weeks. Happy to help. Having roots on vacation is the worst.
You can see the butt tan line.
There is NOTHING WRONG with nudity fyi. I’ve been a nudist (more or less) for many years and if it makes you uncomfortable, don’t look. Don’t actively look just to feel like shit. Some are inspired by me, by this. I am just saying either way being nude is nothing foreign to me so stop bashing me for it you’re wasting your time and energy.
Maybe my body is being accepted because I am accepting of my body. Showing it. I have dignity, a lot in fact.
I was actually afraid and expecting a huge family rift over it and it was secretly stressing me out big time and depressing me knowing I’d have to just fight for it and exhausted in advance about it. I’m happy that won’t be the case.
Was also refered to as a transvestite. Um, transvestites are beautiful, sometimes more feminine than actual females. The dig is meant to make me feel bad about having androgynous features and spoken by a desperate housewife. I guess I should get used to slags from jealous women. You think I’d be used to it by now. It only sucks that to move forward and live your destiny you have to go through so much garbage.
I am tired of being people’s punching bags who have sexual issues and are made uncomfortable by sex or by other women being comfortable being sexual or sexy.
I built my brand around sex because I am sexy. I didn’t craft this persona, it happened naturally on its own because I embody the passion necessary to live and breathe sensuality daily. This is how I am.
I took some ass pics today. Will post tomorrow because YOLO.
At times over the summer or, whenever, I’ve had moments where I’ve used yolo (post-ironically speaking of course!) in a sentence to describe something off like blah blah yadda yadda yolo… then I realised NO ONE COULD UNDERSTAND WTF I was saying.
So I would have to say it means you only live once, repeat the story like I did that crazy thing because YOLO, following now bruh?
Yes I hate it. Yes I use it because it’s dumb and all-emcompassing of an action, it’s like the new fuck – which, I sprinkle on everything liberally.
It’s how I talk. Pretend sorry. I talk like a sailor. Swift, dirty.
I can easily express myself like a geezer with eyes like two pissholes in a snowbank, ahh can and ah will!
I am tired of being ashamed so I’m not gonna be it anymore!
I am tired of being sheepish about being exquisite sometimes!
Like seriously, I try fucking hard man, to look, to be, and to be good, to help others, to be there for them.. you have no idea honestly. But!
You don’t get anywhere by letting people stand in your way. I had a really good zinger the other night I might have to just blog it.
I said I AM gonna be more successful and it’s not going to be from letting people like you get in my way.
I have watched The Other Woman twice in a month and I feel like it might have rubbed off on me a bit.
I am inspired to just “have chill” about the crazy decision I’ve made for my future.
I have certainly over-thought it enough and ping ponged back and forth in my head. At the end of each soul-searching sesh I come away with go for it.
Don’t ever forget the Raymboat mantra, IF NOT NOW WHEN.
I told my mom.
She’s like, you’re in your thirties and you still want to take your clothes off.
I was like fucking right I’m almost 32 and they want me in the game still.
I got into serious shape for this and I am glad they told me to. It’s probably going to get bananas pretty soon. Screen test is next week. NO it’s not p0rn.
Anyway back to my day. Slept over at Nana’s last night had doc appt today, watched Oscars. Gaga was amazing.
I kind of ran out of energy for this post. It’s been a long day. This is me at 21.
I uploaded all these photos yesterday, starting now, but lost the desire to blog then too. My mom is over right now and internet jamming away.
Huevos bf style.
Dick innuendo! Plantains are bigger.
Okay I’ll save date night for later. I want to read the internet meow.
Hi. Sorry for saying hi but not really meaning it. Are you one of those people who, when the conversation is just done there are no words like no ok bye and you feel like you have to dismiss the person with thank you we are done here? Or you outright just lie and say well let me see is there anything else I need to know (to close it up) knowing that there certainly is not anything else left to know, nope all good. The ultimate in lazy is just saying nothing, opening your mouth up slowly and then shutting it again, silently. That shit is funny to me.
Sorry I should have just stuck with the hi.
Truth be told is I feel lazy, have been lazy. I haven’t been giving enough. Everyday I should be like, and now I DID THIS!!!!
Being creative can be exhausting in so much that I can only blog every 1-3 days. You need to live a little, do more, experience, form opinions, before you can get at it again. Or I just go on ello sprees and instagram blasts, read every new thing I can on gawker, lesebel, and buzzfeed and if I am desperate, daily dot plus imgur. Then when I’m finished I’ll stalk random people who come to mind. Omg the other day this person posted a pic of people I hadn’t seen in years, girls who bullied me and never repented for it. Got away with it basically, but yeah, the girls have ballooned up a little bit. Total Muriel’s wedding justice moment no? I screengrabbed it for a rainy day…
…but anyway after all of that, I finally remember why it is I am here on the internet to begin with and get back to making my own news starring me plus my thoughts and every step through time.
My blog has been updated, not that you can tell. The WP version I was blogging on for years had been quadruple-time, old as shit long story short. So now this typing field I’m in is current and it feels, different. You don’t care, you never care. Anyway that’s all about that.
I’ve lost more weight. I’m getting more toned. Will do more cardio and ab work after this post. Winter is my jail sentence.
Wonder where the dress is that goes with this hat. It’s somewhere.
Tickle trunk game be strong.
Had a lot of coffee today. Will make an egg white spinach omelette soon.
Sorry I don’t respect you (or myself) enough to just take my jeans off for this. That underwear is going in the garbage RIP.
Had to wear ‘em cos there’s no clean socks left. It was all hype though. It feels neat to wear them and they are dangerous too, very slippy.
Not to be anti-feminist but stay bubbly because bitchy is fugly. I am not going to be bitchy ever again starting now.
Inside of my blythe journal given to me by a Little Raymi called Charmaine. She visited me at my bar one day and left it for me aw swoon.
So, IMO if these are tiny jeans why do they make my thighs look so goddamn juicy?
These were cold. Then my calamari sucked. Waitress was a bit bitchy and not saying it in a projectionary way, that’s just her way. She was selectively nice. She didn’t even give my friend the courtesy of a response when he (a food snob) hated on the calamari to her. She just stood there like a stone wall then walked away. Cool service style. I would have been like yeah you’re right they do look like a blooming onion that was run over with a van even though it’s supposed to be calamari and not flattened breaded onions.
At least I have R&B face.
Speaking of ello, I have a whole new peanut gallery over there. One guy said this photo wasn’t as good as..
…this photo. Okay, thank you.
What colour should I paint my toes next?
You can’t tell but he’s right on the edge of the bed and it’s a long way down. His purr motor was off the charts during this moment.
I wish a bottle of perfume was photoshopped beside him here. He is totally Mariah Carey right now fur sure.
Yesterday I was like I’m just going to start doing weird shit for the sake of it being weird with no context, form, or reason but then immediately chickened out ahahha.
So goth and emo.
My immediate future looks like.
I had to.
Hating winter. Yesterday I breathed too deeply while outside and all my lungs stuck together wtf! Dangerous. I bet that little boy was dead pretty quick. Saddest story ever. Poor little guy. But yeah, hate on winter is not original but I think it’s a form of excusing the amount of shut-in selfies and indoor fifty shades of cray activities. I NEED to be running out in the sun.
Cool great like I needed to look paler. Some foot fetish guy talks to me about these socks and asks for updates I assume he has a foot fetish or he just really likes red hearts????
He was just sitting on the corner of this antique trunk. I feel like cats make statements when they perch on random stuff around you. I am probably giving cats too much credit on their statement making abilities. I doubt he thought this one through. His brain is the size of a peanut.
Team barbie feet. It’s from dancing and being feet pointy a lot. I maaaaaaaay have exaggerated the foot point a little bit here.
Yeah yeah arty isolation, all that good good.
That’s my face plus Jack Kerouac’s face.
Alright. Bath time. Happy Friday to you all. Stay warm.
Welcome now to the very public showcase which is my life, delicately edited for your pleasure (here’s hoping) and for everybody else, don’t care. #gangster
Lets start backwards because cool and simple. It’s freezing in my room right now I am considering moving into the livingroom to blog.
This weekend was so lazy. It was so cold. Only insane people go out and have fun in that. Going out dancing this weekend instead to make up for it. I bought that stupid cute little number gotta go out and show it off no?
We completed 2 boxes of chocolates. I did as many exercises as I could to make up for it including training, crazy running intervals, and new core work that I am still sore from and showing abdominal improvements like a washboard for. I really want to look like an arachnid or Jesus H. Christ as soon as possible. I actually want to look like Shia Labeouf in the Sia video. Don’t let anyone ever tell you that crazy can’t sculpt you because it can, will, and does. Of all the side-effects of insanity, that one is a plus.
I feel like you always get duped when you order a mimosa when out. They definitely do not make it like you would at home. Yes super waste. I can’t get wasted on this! Hey remember when I was sober? Yeah well I’m still a light drinker and a lightweight so don’t worry in case you were. I love that a little goes a loooong way despite complaining about this mimosa so weak you could give it to your baby. baha
Size 27 pant in US btw is 4 (some say six) so lets say 5 to be nice. THE DUMBEST spat occurred in my comments over the weekend that I definitely should not be bringing up again now but I think it was a good example in online etiquette and being purposely obtuse, snarky then playing innocent then being told to lighten up. It was a tiresome bore and sucked the life out of my lazy Banshee bender trying to have some quality shut-in time with my Valentine.
I leave dumb comments all over the web so I understand. Sometimes I’ll both stare at and re-read a one word comment I’ve left somewhere and cringe knowing that the person won’t know how to analyze it.
Sometimes if you write HA! They can take it to mean HA! at them and not HA! with them.
But then it’s like who cares but then it’s like facebook is just a cauldron of your own drama, cast of characters and shit you put out there so have a little mercy. Also get a life.
I forgot my phone at one point this weekend and was like it’s ok you can refresh notifications when you get back. While at other points I put my head down, deflated, thinking this is so like Holland where I can’t roam off wireless and tweet every thought and cute things I see because I’m in The Netherlands. Off the grid. For two hours. You then realize how addicted and tethered to the various communications you engage with throughout the day. None of it matters but it can be awfully enriching when you have a roving, wandering mind.
Glitched. Have fixed version but whatevs.
Hahah WIND MACHINE #fashion.
Sans instagram filter. Not bad not bad, going to try to incorporate my eye crinkles the more comfortable I get being down with them. Don’t worry I’ll still wear shades and lots of makeup and soft camera lighting plus filters whenever I can/the time calls for it.
What’s a blogger to do right? Hint hint my blog title? I had this breakthrough in a post-ablogalyptic universe starring me post-blog (but the blog must go on!) how unhireable I now am. Except for pushing the envelope more and more.
Always be edgy I was once told.
Sometimes to get over mountains you have to go through them. #Banshee (almost done season 2 now).
But yeah to eclipse the little people you have to steer from them I guess.
One man’s trash is another man’s treasure and when the treasure is treated as such, good things happen.
I feel like I am writing a fucking harlequin pornmance.
Yep. Wine slut again.
Oh Jesus. I hit publish. So this is a grower post to those smart enough to come and see before I put it on Social Media blast.
We played this on Friday night. Fun and funny. We make each other laugh all day long. Like ten minutes goes by completey utterly wasted by laughing at the dumbest thing like a facial expression or, a word. It is surreal to be dating again. I’m still very cautious but there’s a lot of non-red flags to just be chill. It’s only when other people meddle is when problems occur but all in all it’s good. This weekend was a test for sure. I haven’t spent so much time non-stop together with someone since I was engaged yeesh. When people like each other they can smother one another it’s incredible. Passion plus I dunno but again “this time around” Raymbo is playing it safe. To be continued I guess.
Can’t even. That face. Face girls are always doomed no? Do women ever discuss trophy boyfriend collection? Remind me to talk about that someday when I run a superfluous girls club with Candice Bergen.
One of the things we ate this weekend. Deadly good.
He let the buttermilk thicken for like an hour on the counter I was like wtf are you doing over there now uh ohhhhhhh I seee neeeeeeeat.
I LOVE the taste of corn tortillas. How about corn deep fried zucchini magic? Transported.
What’s a little tonuge burn? Some like it hot.
Spicy beef patty action.
I lost 2-3lbs.
No more carbs screwing around this week. You’ll see why soon.
Leftover steaks and plantain breakfast.
haha shut up allow me to continue.
Didn’t get around to that yet….
That is healthgoth. 1. look goth, 2. fit. yes I am talking to you #troll #bitch.
It’s Mardi gras in new Orleans right now and I am leaning against this wall.
There’s chocolate on my grey grunge sweater from Holland, on the right shoulder.
I’ve been making my homemade caesar dressed salad modified from The Beaver for years. Eventually not far long maybe even a decade. You can put anything in a caesar salad NEWSFLASH.
Oh yeah look at that gravy.
Lentil soup fainting. So lemony mmm.
Had to include, almost lost in the frey. Sorry I am the worst.
Edison light from Earls.
Canadian tuxedo family day afternoon.
Love it. Want it.
Okay guys not that this is dire to go on with or anything so I’m going to exercise now. Hope you had a splendid long weekend and a great day today so far.
Should I have bought that robe thing? It didn’t even have a sash. I feel like Kelly from 90210 would wear this. I can be a Kelly, no? Though I’d probably be the (f__ing bitch) Brenda whom I can easily visualize in this too.
Everyone’s like, get it get it. I want to too I mean, my eye picked it out of all the other crap in the store afterall. But I feel it’s just not practical. It’s arrogant. If I went over to someone’s house and the hostess was wearing this in my head I’d be like fuck you hahaha. It’s a classic look. A hallmark of Madonna in the 90’s. Bedroom. I am a peacock type so it’s not like going out of my comfort zone or anything.
I love it but I think I’ve gotten the intended use out of it already, which was a cute selfie. A picture lasts forever you can just picture me in this robe 24/7 now instead of the weird shit that I actually wear. Moving on…
Sexy song interlude. I have gone through the next season of Banshee’s soundtrack in advance. Oh yeah when I obsess I obsess HARD.
Didn’t get. Still shrinking, will be rendered useless and was also a bit baggy.
Sorry for that faaaaaaaaace. Haven’t washed hair since I dyed it (when did I dye it do you remember?) but yeah it is going to definitly bleed like bananas.
I did get this though. I’m going to wear it on valentine’s day. Which I thought was actually today. I also thought Wednesday was Thursday. I am definitely losing it. Meh.
How do I feel about storming forever 21 being forever 31?
Hmm, I am coming for ya bitches. When teenage chicks repeatedly look me over with approval… I guess it’s like when porn stars brag about shopping at the kid’s sections, I feel like Pamela Anderson said that definitely before.
I mean, forever 21 mocks adult feminine looks as well as tweeny trendy shit. A lot of the dresses at f21 are age appropriate. Spending a hundred bucks on a bag of tricks I’ll eventually give to my niece, what is the big deal?
Fashion rule of life is, if it fits and nothing is seen jiggling – it’s a go. I went out and said to the dressing room girl, okay this is really short can I do this? She said it’s supposed to be that way.
Would a celebrity wear this? Yes. On red carpet with insanely high Jessica Simpson pumps? Yes. Can I eat a steak and down a half bottle of red wine in this? Yep.
I had a cheap little black lace date dress that was legendary once. I sold like 100 of it and individually facebook replied to each lady who inquired where it came from 1. because I know the value of my influence 2. that retail store does not deserve my free press. I could have just said I got it here and saved myself the hassle of personally replying to everyone I told to email me if they wanted to know.
Because of my boxy boyish amazon wtf body type I can grab that ignored dress in the shop and make it work. Some dresses hang terribly on hangers, then no one buys them and they get shipped to Mississauga outlet malls where they go to die. Fact.
This guy (me) comes along and uses it as primo date machine attire on a blog then booya.
I even remember who scooped it up at my 10 year blogiversary party. Holy rambly, sorry sorry.
I am going to wear it with almost black (dark grey basically black) tights altho I kinda want to wear my cute little heart socks BUT it’s fucking winter man who do I think I am. If I am not too full then we will go dancing. wait omfg I just had a brainstorm!
Went for a tan to trick out ma bod.
I should just get a bottle of this again.
Post tan mall glow. A girl spied on me being insane like this. I didn’t look at her but I bet she was making fun of me in her head. I would. But secretly I would be like you are amazing.
Have to exchange for a smaller size. Sorry, I patronage your store enough don’t give me grief.
A troll flipped out on me here once when I said I was returning a shirt (oh please everyone does it and for worser reasons) but mine was a legitimate reason, it ripped on me – super cheaply made and garbage why the hell would I want to replace it? So I exchanged for something else. At the time of this comment, this repeat psycho troll was daily goading me, leaving obsessive comments and I saved them I never blogged them or responded or reacted. It’s just insane how someone can obsess over you like that and look for weaknesses and opportunities to wedge their way in.
To date I get a lot of positive messages. I feel like people are chill and we’re all mellowed out. Not to say I don’t receive insane things, and thirsty guys of course haha. That is part of the game perhaps. I am a flirt. Was recently accused of being one. I never really thought of myself as one. I “have no game” which is so 100% totally my game, or, a game.
I think that anybody I have drawn to me over a matter of years I totally deserve the attention of. As long as it’s positive. I am not talking unwanted attention from people who have been banished. You don’t have to like everybody and they don’t have to like you. They just have to go away.
I will 100% say these pants like tanning salon. I don’t care. It’s a nice smell. I will keep you all abreast of how Jeansgate 2015 goes down.
While these were to look a lot sexier, in my head. I think I just pulled them up too high and also my high heel mary janes should be the guys to slip these socks into.
I am a sucker for containment. I feel like I am going to slip on a banana peel at any moment, I crave safety. Jumpers are safe except for pee time and crouching naked on a toilet shivering in hilarious fear.
Love instagram filters. Am a walking piece of art.
My TBT. I was 21. A bf took this I was his model subject for a photography class. I lived around the corner at the time. He and I weren’t together at this point. We are still friends now. There is mad history yo. Complex! I really liked dressing like this, and still do if I have the figure for it. Slipping on form-fitting elastic-like jeans, jumping on my longboard and just whipping off on an adventure.
And now I’m just a tired old lady in glasses wahhhh.
Had this the other night. Bad girl. No more effing around I have a screen test or to talk about setting one up Feb 23. It’s time to look as Chiseled as Jesus fricking Christ now. If it didn’t leave scar marks I would even let you whip me and reimagine the stations of the cross (don’t say Catholic school wasn’t good for nothing!)
Another me at 21. I remember this day. There are other good pics of me from this sesh in the park doing karate Kid like balance poses on a fence. I lost pictures when indiko bit the dust, where I hosted my pictures since I was 19. Whatever I managed to randomly take over to flickr is what I still have. History dies if you do not back it up eh.
I have 98,493 pictures in my flickr account. Have been a member since 2005. That number seems a little high to me lol.
Back to my body psychosis.
My new boss said I look like Liz Hurley TWICE NOW.
I’m just gonna tie my ego to a hot air balloon and let it sail away now thx k bye whaaaaaaaaaaat!?!?
Yep gonna sculpt my guns after this.
And exchange these jeans. I will cry if the size down doesn’t fit and set myself on fire from embarrassment.
Oh hey cool can I try on these 27’s? Uh no reason…
On way to tan or after can’t remember.
A below picture. After my tan. I didn’t wear makeup really except the mascara seems to be permanently gunked on… I wouldn’t call it wearing. Ahh excuses, lovely. See how dried out my lips are like a peach. Sometimes nude lipstick is hot.
This morning already feels like years ago.
Did I ever tell you the reason why my blog posts are so long? If anyone has read this far and wants to know then I will say so.
Don Draper is back. I know right. It’s kind of surreal.