Hi guys. Okay I blog now. It’s funny feeling like you need to announce it before disappearing into a vortex of ignorance for a bit. A luxurious self indulgent personal treat of not looking at your bloody phone for a little while. Those things are the death of you.
This weekend I just kinda laid low, don’t I always though. It was equal parts relax and active. Relaxtive. Laxative. Okay I will stop. Never.
Blessed with amazing weather which was half pissed away but what can you do. It was a crazy week Raymbo needed some down time. Why do we feel guilt for not maximizing our spare time (weekends) and take it easy. Are we competing? It’s a Canadian pointless guilt thing.
I have been making this easy appetizer for years and years. Food travels through time with us. Right. Like I didn’t have to augment or change this. Why am I mindblown?
There’s a boat fire *spoiler alert* in Bloodline, a show I blasted through last couple of weeks on netflix, that they replay over and over. I have always been fascinated with ships. I watched The Godfather for the first time this weekend plus the second one. He comes to America on a ship. Maybe ships scare me. They make me think of change and I fear change a little. Traveling from one place to another by ship makes me feel claustrophobic and vulnerable. Ships are impressive to me. Clearly I have a lot of feelings about a lot of things… so lets move on to the next.
Moron. If I am eating a cupcake it’s BECAUSE I am sad. If I run to sugar = the sad is here. That’s why you will never find me with a cupcake in my hand because I will not admit defeat. If I am sad I am eating pizza (or have munchies). I realize I am making no sense and I don’t care it’s Monday fml.
Went for a long walk Saturday and popped into this store I love.
I felt kind of melancholy this weekend. I’m turning into a nihilist and I don’t like it.
What do I want and what is the point. I think all the greatest artists had meltdowns and periods of bullshit right before their best ideas happened. Or I am making that up. There is an orchestra and potential of greatness in my head at all times but I am starting to doubt myself and wonder if I have been suffering from a mental illness my entire life that has blocked me from my true achievement? I see things that I am doing. Things I am doing to myself. Things I have thrown away. Walked away from. Maybe I am more Kerouac than I think? I know that I try to fix too many problems out of my control whilst trying to Raymi The Minx keep on trucking through but I wonder at what point does it change, do I give up. No one will ever come to save you. People will be interested when you give them something. When you give them a story and you tell the truth. From the heart. When I speak to my circle of savant idiots sometimes about my truth, they know it, we both know it — that, that’s it. I just wonder when the fuck I am going to make good on it is all. I worry myself. I worry about everything. My mind is like a lost highway.
I had to use a string for a belt. I felt a bit of shame I will admit but also, dgaf. Hanging out with your ex is interesting also nice. We get along better when we are not dating. I have never been in a relationship-scenario such as this before. I simply “do not get it” but also “whatever”. I think we actually are compatible and care about one another but we can also turn it off and drop each other cold. It’s ridiculous but so am I. I still get jealous that he’s on tinder and he’s like want me to delete it, I will right now. Meanwhile I have a million matches… but I just don’t care. Last week I felt like a bit of a date machine and this week I am grossed out. I am tired of all these dudes wanting to just fuck me. I am not going to act like a dainty virgin to find the proper husband either or play that tired game which is why I am turning into a nihilist and feeling like what’s the point.
I know I am depressed when I am at my skinniest and it’s in part from emo but also I “made it” to my goal and dgaf. What a pointless waste. Then I eat crap all weekend and blow it. When our outward image is what we rely on for our happiness life fulfillment quotient we can’t be shocked when we still feel a little empty inside. I’ve spoken about this before. You spend your life trying to get skinny for some stupid reason and then you get skinny but you still feel like shit. That’s why you must work on your insides too. I would go to therapy again but I just end up running them ’round in logical talk circles about my “plight” then I just stop going. I wonder if that last guy thinks I’m dead. The material could just be put here instead for you guys to enjoy with the same outcome.
Nothing fits me right now. All the cute outfits I picture myself kicking ass in just can’t happen in actuality when I put them on. I am going to take all my shorts to that consignment shop my mom won’t stop harassing me about. I offered them to you guys but a million tumbleweeds blew by when I opened my mouth so you missed your chance.
Fortunately for me the tortured artist carries with it some form of appeal for the amount of time one has appeal. As long as they keep it real.
I know I rhyme a lot, I just can’t help it. Some people can’t write or think for shit so I guess just enjoy it when you come across it. Literates who love to read and what not it’s like a melody for their brain to go over prose with flow. Like when obsessive compulsive people have completed organizing something, a ziploc bag closes properly, you fold a blanket I dunno it just feels good to read something well-written and unexpected. With proper grammar. It’s like a fucking orgasm to have a blog post without typos and everything typed to perfection.
Oh my god I need a life.
Friday was a skinny, exhausted day. I recovered from the night/day before then made a chicken. The tastiest goddamn chicken ever I don’t care how burnt it looked on instagram haha.
I felt pretty on Thursday. Instead of someone who acts like they are pretty on the internet. I was feeling my looks. I didn’t go down the rabbit hole of what that means about it don’t worry and I am not even sorry or going to apologize for it here.
The Carlu is a great scene. Historic. The comedians at Comic Vision were hilarious and it was inspiring to see a 21 year old blind girl in high heels and a tutu give us all a mega-learning. Such a spectacular event thanks Ben! I have full and better coverage on my camera but I’m a lazy prick sorry.
I got hit on on the train ride in. My limo driver picked me up for the way home so I didn’t mind half the experience being ghetto but anyway I am so bad in getting hit on situations I give my number regardless of liking them or having any inclination on how to follow through with it even if I wanted to full bluff myself long story short he texted and I haven’t replied and he called yesterday and I called the number back by mistake because I didn’t program him but I hung up before it engaged the call (THANK GOD) it’s not that I am being a bitch it’s that I am a chicken shit with awkward problems. I gave him my fucking glamourshot card with all my info so he will probably read this and call me out. All I did was speak to him when he motioned me over, exactly how I motioned over that guy I saw in a pizza parlor in New Orleans. I knew I wasn’t feeling it but maybe I was? I was curious above all else and my ego was satiated which probably is what rules me but anyway, the train was coming so I was going to get up anyway so I get up and walk out to him knowing I am going to give him exactly the same courtesy I give all men – abuse flirting.
I said, “WHAT!?” when I walked out. Playing it chill. I was dressed to kill. His mouth dried right up he was not expecting something so rude and self-assured to occur. Well bro look how I was dressed. Is it racist to say he was a brother? I don’t care, it’s true, it’s honest. It does not matter your race to me what matters is attraction and I am attracted to lots of things, genders. Right now I am not really attracted to anything because I am too busy being disgusted by myself. That’s what I should put on my tinder profile actually because it would probably help and explain a lot hahaha. I’M BROKEN BUT I’M TRYING.
We had a table in the front row. Sometimes it’s nice to be me. Hooked up by SiriusXM yes guy. #ownthyshit.
Oh blurry Bluren. Just picture a bunch of rich stuffy people to be jealous of and you’re good to go.
There needs to be a term for a girl who is dressed up to go out that is equivalent to the hallmark “walk of shame” because she is definitely a pre-walk of shame photo fur sure.
For the fist time ever I will attempt shrinking these little shorts I never put in the dryer. Prob too late tho I think my juicy ass had its way with ‘em.
My limo buddy also has this toy to play with what a fuckface right ahha.
We went for a quick ride/errand thing together and he shows up in this loud monstrosity, the nerve! That’s one of his sayings he’s a total italian blabbity blah.
As emo as I get I should just shut up because I am truly blessed with the collection of friends I’ve amassed and the spoils they bring with. It’s good to have reminders.
Can you believe this is grandfathered out. The car is so powerful and look at me loud (and red) and you’re only wearing a necklace around your waist for safety good luck with that. I look fwd to doing the strip at Wasaga in this bad boy. Btw notice my nails are long now and getting there.
I look like a soft blob but assure you I am not. If one is moved to take a risky bikini picture then in that moment they feel skinny, it just might not translate in photo. Can you tell I’ve been online bullied for years about my body? Lol.
Had to tuck in my wrestling ring strings to not get a weird tanline. I just found these tiny booty shorts that I’ve been looking for to match this top.
Honestly I am proud of my body for my age. It doesn’t make me a God though so maybe chillax on your haterade.
I went on a date this night I wanted to see how tired and allergy-ridden my eyes were looking, hence this picture. He asked if I would blog about him. I paused and said, well, no. Maybe? It didn’t occur to me at all. Only if there is something of note to report, or perhaps over time when no one is looking I’ll eek out a detail here or there but mostly I keep it private or anonymous. Is asking if I’ll blog about what makes me blog about it? He’s a guy who lives nearby and we have been each other’s match for the few times I have been on tinder but never met before or made effort so we finally met. Also we were in the pub that I was interviewed by The Toronto Star about the dissolution of my engagement in. I chose this pub because it is near where I lived then with my rebound and I hadn’t been back since. I told him about this because sometimes people can be disrespectful about blogging or like, so what? And then very invasive about what you get paid so I felt like oh yeah buddy, the news interviewed me here about my stupid fucking life. Not all bloggers receive that achievement in their life. Ever. This date was not like that at all in actuality but it was such a “real” setting to me and held nostalgic vibe. The waitress was ultra friendly to me and kept sitting down beside me, right? Sometimes people are so attracted or drawn to me and it cannot be helped. I’m an isolated person in general but I do give off an energy when I enter a room, people notice me and I notice it and I engage them… I let it happen. Maybe this entire blog is just me trying to come to terms with that phenomenon and explaining it to you and everyone around me when we meet and go on dates. Like I am special because ________ _______ ________, you know? I actually think that’s what it is.
Well I’m glad I got over my writer’s block. I wanted to blog since Friday so this is all saved up crap from my head. I’m cognizant when I blog I just have to narrow down which stories I want to tell and I use my photos as talking points to aid in that.
If rock and roll was a blog I’d be _______.
This is how I dressed to see my accountant. I wore two different sized earrings but both were crystal which is why I made the mistake. No one noticed. Another Rayme in the life.
Went to a Sunday fight with my mom and Frank was good times. I was over-dressed lol.
Ate a lot of grease.
Give them what they want that’s what I always say. What “that” exactly is can be up to you.
Remembering am skinny enough to pull this off face and before I became pregnant with onion rings.
Sorry it’s all about me but that’s what my blog is about.
Oh yeah I was in a movie too… we talked about that haha.
Alrighty folks. Hope you enjoyed this crap! xo rlw.
I feel like I want to blog but I have no idea what to say. This usually happens in between events and recovering from them as well as other life things in general. I remember when my blog used to be more organized on a daily basis schedule. Like Monday I do this, Sunday I am here doing that, blah blah. Sure as hell not now though haha. Like here is another picture of me with my phone in my hand in the mirror. MINDBLOWING. Don’t worry, I get it. I see it too. I am no fool. I see the selfie thing as a daily routine/fitness goal/body obsession and the laziest blog content ever but it works because it’s a curvy woman over and over again. Yeah I can do better.
Actually maybe I don’t feel like blogging who am I trying to please right now anyway? All it achieves is leaving me looking like a mess. Which I recently discovered some people discussing about me. I am just sick of opinions and people thinking they are all-knowing making knee-jerk statements based on, yeah I guess, all the mess one displays online.
I do not see it as a mess though and if I felt that it was a true mess I would not be sharing it. You came to the conclusion that it’s a mess, fine then. It’s a life stage perhaps, a change. When changes occur there is always a bit of fall-out which is why people never change or fear it but you have to embrace it if you want to better your life.
Being a blogger and a human at the same time can be hard. Being fluff and happy go lucky for forever is harder than it looks. I work very hard at making it look easy. Since I joined tinder again and started putting myself out there more again I’ve had the opportunity to explain what blogging is a thousand times a week to newbies. Dissecting for strangers what it is that I do. Being approached to promote and cover other people’s businesses who do not get that this here too is a business and I put myself on the line not purely for enjoyment but to pay my goddamn bills. It’s exhausting and demoralizing this blogger shit. When you work for many years to be seen and appreciated and invited to things, it’s a fine line the business and pleasure of it all. Coming up with new concepts and ideas, people knocking you down the whole way and cutting your grass. Haters banding together to talk shit and make a point to go out of their way to contact a client of yours because they want the action for themselves, like seriously if I knew this was going to be so annoying I probably would have gone into LAW which was my original plan. Superstar writer and lawyer lol.
Another thing about Raymi is, over 15 years of doing this you meet a lot of people and make friends with some of them, frenemies, you are notorious and then like everyone has to know about you and if they don’t know you do not fucking worry someone will not waste a second talking about you and cutting you the fuck down like they KNOW your insides. Rumours and industry reps, like in highschool, can be damaging. All it takes is a conversation someone has about you to fuck you over. Which, they do. A lot.
I just know I’ve always been this weirdo semi-unapproachable lone wolf who is also a people person, funny, gregarious, obnoxious, charming you know, but the blog world, the people world, have more to say on it and prevail in just so much shit talk about me, shunning me, what is even the point sometimes it feels.
Like who cares what people have to say about me in the real world the proof is in the pudding, should be, it’s all right here. The majority of my readership will never even meet me why should they care what some douche in Toronto thinks about me because HERE is where they come everyday to see me not to hear opinions. Just enjoy the source bro.
I am sitting on top of this valuable blog “empire” here with klout, readership, eyes, traffic which really should be the only thing speaking for itself. I fucking started this before you, you know. With soul and integrity and realness. I didn’t copy ONE fucking person ever. No one believed in it or even understood it but I knew this was going to pay off one day and be the way to do things. So I kept at it, keep at it whether obsessively or passively. I play the game. I keep cards to my chest. I work on my looks, I starve, I tan, I cry. I do not give in, or up. Not yet.
Boy life has been sinteresting it sure has. Spring is in the air yee haw now bee-oy.
Note to self delete this portion of blog post in the morning (maybe).
Lookit that lil furburger lettin me hold him like that tho.
Here’s a dance club makeover of what I had for dinner tonight. Jerk chicken thai nnntsa nnsta nnnsta #beats #DROP.
In 2008 I was a hella stud yo.
Future self: do not change. Do not go gently into the night. #tbt
(Is that the quote?)
The morning of the movie. I had no sleep the night before I was too amped and I was going to wake up my mom to come with into town to go shopping so I didn’t sleep because I had set my mental alarm which kicked my insomnia into over drive. Anyway I was like fuck this I am just getting up. She ended up bailing arggg.
I’m playing a dead person it’s probably a good idea to look like actual shit. Just wait til you see ALL the goodies I have.
The other dead girl sister to me had her tit photos removed from facebook and she was so mad and I tried to console her all day but it was amazing to see someone pull a Lauren but yet I got and am used to bitches reporting me (and losing every time) but her tits are massive and so like more sexual. I dunno man tits don’t lie. That should be this blog’s title. I am hurting for one.
I went on a Saturdate. It was colder down by the lake than had anticipated so I changed. This was before the date had turned.
Pretty hardcore no yes maybe oh fuck yeah. Now THAT is some prosperity. Everyone I send this to who matters says they are into necrophilia now huahaha ew great cool #flattered. Grey nipples dude! To get this off me was a trip also. Shout outs to my makeup artists! Will link proper in the morning.
My other dead friends what’s up.
We had our own special room because of Actra. Holy hell special treatment city. It’s good though I guess some women in the past have had bad experiences during nude scenes. It was so decent and respectful above and beyond piece of cake.
Kind of like the shining twins.
They gave me fat bulge definition from the prosthetic I was not pleased haha. I got to keep it too. it might come in handy for a prank. I might mount and frame it or throw in garbage we will see.
I am going to post the original of this tomowoah tomowoah there’s always tomowoah and I am barely funtioning right now omg it’s so late wtf am I up for!!!? Schedule is out of whack.
They wiped all my makeup off. I refused to show up fug.
Jokes I made regarding my stomach hole: Oh just a flesh wound. “had some crazy mexican last night some explosive tacos” ski accident. Other dumb shit I can’t recall.
This was very early in the morning. Oh boo hoo Lauren shut up hahah.
Oh yeah that was the night before I almost forgot! 4/20 what’s uppp. Thanks Coralreefer420 for sending me those pasties xoxo.
Hey dudes. Gosh, why didn’t I just bring my camera out with me Friday night, I was SO CLOSE. I had it in my hand and then I just placed it down on my computer desk thinking I won’t need this, am completely complacent with my cell phone’s low light quality pics. Dumbass. It’s hard to unlearn bad, lazy habits. Even in blogging. I have done this for fifteen years and still sometimes I find it very difficult to get back into it again, it can be exhaustive all the working parts surrounding the blog with many factors working against you, namely time and social mediums.
I started out blogging as a writer and now it’s so much more than just writing that it shunts the writing. All the extra fanfare, selfies and the passage of time really disrespects the art, the thing that you did that you loved and looked forward to blogging about by the time you get to it it’s like, so what I had this fantastic steak and wine and epic happy feeling at the time I can barely remember now that I am old and my brain lets go of memories so easily or just, I don’t bother anymore to recount the minutiae of moments and exchanges with people that kind of was my signature. Why don’t I do that anymore? Despite actually feeling like I over-analyze these days a lot more and it would be just so easy to share these ideas and funny anecdotes here. I let the conscience bully me into silence because I feel like it’s pointles fluff and some asshole will just yell out to shut up and “get a job” because some people don’t get art, or blog posts that exist just to exist to delight and entertain and it is so clearly my passion. Others feel the need to take away from the simplicity and ruin it by chiming in when here’s a novel concept, you could just let it be.
Maybe I need to just write my book and just do it already.
I have an updated buzzwordy blurb to add to this btw that’s one of the chapters actually, ready to hear it? *Spoiler alert* *don’t thief it, saw it here first*.
THE RISE, FALL, AND FUTURE OF WOMEN IN A DIGITAL ERA.
Anyway, I’ll keep blogging I guess but super finish a book before no one wants to read me anymore and I hate myself forever. I experience so much guilt from blogging and so much guilt from not blogging. I feel like patient zero sometimes in this field like, now we see the blogger breaking down without proper real world skills because said blogger has existed in this not real realm for far too long and is kind of in a Britney Spears scenario now with a Vegas show performing the last bittersweetness of the acts until she is a prune.
I am good don’t worry Little Raymis. If I wasn’t good I wouldn’t be saying self aware jokey things. Long story short, blogging is a mood based thing (can be) and I am not a faker so if I am not feeling it then I am not writing it. Also, “I was going to” but then the weekend and real life so, blogging can wait.
I’ve been tanning and using bronzer to like my face more. It just looks better with colour. No, it’s not good for you but feeling good is good for you and look good now die later like I astutely say.
I am (semi-) digging singlish life (so lying right now haha). I like being social with friends. You have to constantly remind yourself that it’s okay to be single and not to fuck your ex though BUT you get to go on “dates”, hang with guy friends again without the Spanish inquisition or worry, have suspicions about someone else, you don’t have to think about anyone else’s shit or feel in trouble. As healthy as you all think your relationships are there are still restraints and battles to go through. Basically everyone is miserable. I take comfort in that.
I mean whether single or in a relationship, everyone is miserable. I remember being extremely miserable in some relationships before and eventually everyone is just miserable and acting like they’re not. Cold wars are the worst. Normal war is pretty bad too but someone icing you out stoicly.. and do not get me started on moods. I’m just gonna say it. Men, your asses be moody! Women are bitches but men are monsters.
If you isolate from men you realize one day that there is no warpath moods overtaking your breath but then dude comes back and it’s god damn moods. Maybe it’s just the guys I end up with but no, maybe it is the chosen passive way men choose to control you.
One ex I said to him once that I suffer from enough depression I do not need to suffer from yours [moods] too, I had fucking enough. The one time I ever tried to pull “the depression” card I just didn’t have it in me. I am a fighter. I am not a cry crumpled down on the floor type but I had one bad day once and this guy was being tested about it and it disgusted me how he reacted. Meanwhile I had suffered so much more moodiness all-in from him day-to-day it was like how DARE YOU not reciprocate.
I did not intend for this post to get all headcasey but why not.
It just really angers me that someone is nice to everyone else but the one person they love the most who is closest to them. I get to wonder if it is just me though, destined to be unhappy but no it is the partners I end up with. I am just here happy and ready to do things with you oh wait nope I’m not you’re moody everything shuts down.
Also, I get very bored very easily of people these days. So there are many catches out there for me but I feel exhausted by lining them up and meeting them and foreseeing a boring future, Seinfelding purposely sabotaging likely. But also not making it 100% the focal point of my life at all anyway? It’s early thirties (I am 32 now for the new-comers) meltdown time is running out syndrome. Being tired of men’s shit and basically knowing will not find the one. I must work on myself more like a fucking yogi or something and blah blahhhh eat chicken wings twice a week rinse and repeat lol.
Came across this interesting piece that resonated with me about creative types and how awful our minds can be. Talk about moods I can definitely get moody but typically when alone and I mostly just do it to myself. Unless attacked. Which does happen. But my brain can definitely exhaust me because it doesn’t turn off like creative’s brains don’t. How about I just stop complaining or trying to express something I don’t even know what right now and just read that list in the link provided and I can move on to our next humble slide.
I also hate dating. Only because you learn so many hateable things about people yet you have an open mind and you’re supposed to find this person who fits into your puzzle hole and you’re suppose to fit in theirs, you have a great build-up chatting but know in seconds if you would bone them or not and should you or not and then of course sitting and drinking with them is just a dumb idea after that because booze goggles though I like to think I have some self restraint and self respect left in me you should not be thinking every next person is the one, could be the one I just feel like I by habit and nature try to make anything work I ignore all red flags and I go in willingly into a stupid situation thinking how can I make this work and last because there’s something here maybe. Maybe I am a fixer. I am a classic want to fix wounded bird type probably and guys think I’m easy also probably because of the grand show I put on with nudie catwang selfies but I AM picky for fuck sake, that’s why I am single. One guy called me a slut yesterday because I would not meet him and he could tell I was after more than just hook-ups so in a last ditch effort and failure to get a rise out of me he decided to “help me” by telling me what guys see and think. He was 27, and total player trash by the looks of his profile. Calling ME the slut. Classic.
Women can nod and agree and slut shame all they want but why should I change who I am to better suit a suitor, play the virgin to attract some douche who will under appreciate and value me anyway?
If I am such a slut then how come there are so many men I will not fuck out there? That does not make sense to me at all and it’s a jealous attacky desperate attempt to bash the women down who have the self confidence and self love to post any selfie they want of themselves. To embrace sexuality, being sexy freely.
There are many sexually-defunct people out there, perverts and normal people who just act insane because they’re so horny or feel sex is a massive part of their life, obsessively. Maybe some women pose erotically “to deal” with their sexy beast. Maybe that’s okay? Maybe they don’t have sex or are sluts. Maybe FUCK YOU.
Time for an awful segue now.
Do you know how terrible it was to see this? I would gladly shoot the guy back with an arrow to return the favour. Gross. Now that is a sadist for you. Mental problems. My mom sent my pics to the Metro, they already had a photographer out on the scene. She sent them other work of hers and now she’s going in to see them niiiice mom.
Fajitas were deadly Saturday. Felt like a fat blob this weekend ate so much.
Sunday dinner mmm.
Juicy perfection. Been goin’ through plenty of chicken breasts in these parts.
Eggs too. I stopped because they’re actually not that healthy for you. Good for your hair but cholesterol bad. Yesterday though I had two fried eggs. One in the morning (1pm lol) and one after chicken. I’m premenstrual so can it if you were food I would eat you too.
This weekend I discovered that none of my shorts fit me from last summer which is terrible because I love them but good because thinner so if you have a body like mine and/or lots of good belts let me know if you need some short shorts to let your ass cheeks hang out. These fit me I am keeping them but they’re a bit big I almost wore fitness shorts on my date just to look like I had a figure.
I wore runners cos we were also going to do something outdoorsy which we did a bit I guess.
Had a nice dinner out with my friend Friday night. God. This is a Raymi story in the makings of for awhile now I only feel obligated to divulge just to explain it and not feel judgment I shouldn’t care about but whatever. We met on a patio last summer when I was single (noticing a theme here) and running like crazy and this day I decided to soak in some rays because it was late August and a long horrible winter was just around the corner.
I even blogged about this encounter. I had purple nailpolish on that matched his stupid purple golf pants and I said that the name of the nailpolish was jailbait (seriously who names nailpolish colours that and then repeats that outloud???)
Anyway, we don’t exchange contact which he regrets and we are both townies, he’s a foodie like me and it got to the point I had to avoid certain restaurants “I let him have” because there are only so many in town bla blah etc but anyway, he tells me his local spot on Sunday nights and I thought that was an oldschool hint dropping thing I could casually bump into him again. Which I never did. But then I found him on tinder, I swiped because I recognized the pub (of course) and we casually talked about eventually meeting which was dragged out and in all that chatting once he mentioned his very unique business line of work I was like dude, we met over the summer on a patio and you were wearing purple pants I was that sweating tanning girl.
So we meet again and go on two dates, but turns out he is the neighbour to my ex. When we pulled into his neighbourhood I was like are you serious you live here of all the places to live in town HERE it has to be here. At that point I was trying to forget that we had ever met my ex and I and I also did not mention him on our date but was forced to acknowledge once we pulled into that frigging driveway lol. Yes it was the recent on again off again ex and there were a lot of funny instances I wish I could have shared with you guys over the last year about it like having to take the stairs two at a time to get into my new friend’s place so my ex wouldn’t think I was a psycho seeing me around there ugh fml big time.
When we eventually got back together I never pointed out where my new friend’s place was but was ultra paranoid at all times going in and out of there sitting like a stiff dummy in the car thank god the windows are tinted and oh lets just close the sunroof now shall we because you can look down from a window and see into the car and lets be real I am always wearing neon and distinct looks I stick out like a stain on the carpet.
And basically he is in the friend zone (yes I feel like shit but I also like to have friends) because he has these glasses I told him I don’t like but I think he took it as a joke when I super meant it because his face then morphs into an ex’s face whom I was repulsed by and always wore those same glasses and hid his face the one good thing I could tolerate about him. Maybe I have deep nerd rage within me or something but I can’t deal with the spectacles look 24/7. I am the worst too yeah I get it but you can’t force things the older you get. You like what you like and you hate what you hate.
The superficial side of me is like what are you doing idiot because clearly he treats me right, has money, potential, likes me, doesn’t act like a psycho about my blogging and selfies actually respects and is excited by it. I just think life is funny, how we met, where he lives, and that we are still friends. At one point he was like I am looking for a lover not a friend and I respected that and we didn’t hang but when people are similar, over time you appreciate then hang on to them because everyone else is married with children and they’re running out of us. That’s my theory anyway.
I have to remember to use that spa certificate Damara got me I think I need a dose of real relax. I also got some float therapy gift certificates too. I heard you trip out in those things. You’re isolated and floating alone with your thoughts which honestly kind of sounds terrifying I am tired of my thoughts hahah.
Haven’t watched this in years. love love love.
Delish tenderloin. Had asparagus instead of frites.
And there he is. He told me it was time to post one of him. He went to Ireland today for a week or something I hope he has a great safe trip because I want to hear all the debauchery when he gets back, like me, he’s good with the fun stories and experiences and if he isn’t in a relationship (or hates me after this post lol) we’re gonna go to Nova Scotia PEI (same diff lol) together in June.
My Nana got me that bracelet ring, racelet, in the Dominican.
Very nice place I def recco.
Yes I have learned a lesson about using my camera from here on out. Stupid Lauren.
This was made for me so I will not complain but it’s too fried and gristly looking #foodsnob.
Went for a run and a tan then chicken wings, the trifecta, RTC hahaha.
Blogging has been a great stress reliever thank god for this thanks blog. Do you notice Rocky’s head shadow?
I forgot how much I loved wearing tank tops, “wife beaters” (worst name ever!) but I don’t mean tank tops like suzy shier tank tops I mean undershirts like “wife beaters”. Is there another name to use so that you know exactly what I meant next time without having to say wife beater on my blog???
Limoncello white wine sangria. It was good.
Wine got on my jumpsuit of course. Not my fault. Ok kind of my fault.
Peggy is amazing. Her teeth rotted like crazy so they’ve all been removed (expensively so) but she is worth it even though she was a stray so not worth it but worth it you get it?
She is massively meme-worthy. We have a bond naturally. I’ll show you guys a really funny one of her tongue sticking out when I get a sec. She is also a dwarf, very teeny and constantly pacing the place to get out and instantly cuddles you in between snoozing with her tongue hanging out of her face. One of those rejects that are actually adorable and insta-hits. She will also stare at you with her tongue sticking out until you get the right shot like she knows she is destined for instagram fame.
Great place kinda had a Weslodge vibe.
Have you had blk water before? It’s gross. It tastes fine but it looks gross and I also hate Jagermeister so it just makes me so repulsed. A must try at least?
I eat a lot of kale. When I get snacky I make kale.
Some allergies this day. When I rub my eyes I can look really Euro if need be. Usually my day look if I don’t do makeup and rock sunglasses inside (supermarket) don’t look under there please lol. I try to give my eyes rest from makeup when I can.
Happy I found this hat. Was worried some bro stole it. I just hid it on myself turns out. There’s some things I have misplaced when I moved and haven’t seen since like my pink new balance shoes where the f did I take them off ugh.
Mango gelato diy was amazing. I consumed a little more fruit than usual over those few days it makes me feel like a fat gorilla.
A delicious little snack from some other day lol.
It felt like I was in the jungle trying to peel these and tear the skin off and I remembered this one time a rasta in a parkdale bar peeled mangoes for us lushes one night it was really special lol. I feel like I’ve done all these eccentric things in my life to weave into a great story one day just to have the experience to know how to write stories.
Bottom left ftw. I will not be eating chicken wings or unhealthily this week. I really need to cut it out for awhile.
I wake up lithe and then I am like it’s time for chicken wings. Cool logic bro. Everybody comfort eats when it’s 50 cents a wing lol.
Okay super post done.
These were just words,
(btw I’m going to be in a horror film tomorrow wish me luck or something haha)
Great night, great event, great party, great times, great, great, GREAT! Thank you to Drivers Defence Team, see you in court lol jk. Frank is a bit of a machiavellian, it works. We have the same demo, bros who drive fast and get busted. If you need a hand fighting traffic tickets, talk to Frank #noshame. Guy jumps out of planes every weekend, there is something amazingly trustworthy about that dedication to recklessness like, you got this! wejustin ftw! follow them on twitter too and good things will happen to you @wejustwin.
Now on with the showgram.
Invited mom as a ringer expert photographer now everyone is in love with her, her work – her fight photographs are already in newspapers, whaaat? We are taking over the kickboxing scene/market now.
Whenever I do my 5 minute spiel about “what I do” to people I meet, I usually say, you want me to sell a box? I sell a box. You want me to be a ring girl? I be a ring girl. FKKN RIGHTS BRO.
Lou is the man.
Guy on the left asked my friend to leave my ring side seat, he left. I told him to come back again for a short visit, guy asks him to leave again, more sternly. I squeezed his wrist REALLY HARD and said, he is my guest. WOAH ballsy Raymi lolololl a million apologies. I think ring girl power was going to my head. I get it though cos there are more deserving VIPs all around us. He told me they were ring side seats (exclusive). Sometimes I just get squeezy if I don’t get my way to try and get it.
Mom got epic shots like I said. She always captures the moments.
Like Geoff with my bag at the end of the night haha. Probably arguing with his gf. He is halariois btw.
Holy shmoly Las Vegas and ouch the pain.
I love this pic.
The thing on his head is a kickboxing, thing. Sorry if I am being grossly disrespectful. Anyway, they bow to the crowd, all 4 sides of the ring wearing those it’s very traditional, cool, bad ass, historical. I like it. Some parts of the night felt like Mortal Kombat, my brother should have been there.
I saw this one and was like I’m photographing fat I’m going to take my shirt off pretty soon.
This went 5 rounds, those guys were pretty pumped to see me hold their sign. it was like looking down at a table of guys drinking wine playing poker, a circle of construction workers (literally probably) all waving and smiling at you. Has this ever happened to you before in your life? I have done a lot of fun and weird, bizarre, Raymazing things and this is a new one. It’s nerve wracking too because you feel like you’re supposed to be a robot with a plastered on smile – go deep-con game show.
Talking to these guys with their jogging pants and robes on afterward, street clothes, they’re totally sweet softies. I was mildly mindblown.
I’m invited to a game next week as a guest. I’d say a Sharon Stone look from Casino would be a sweet get-up. Then I can find an Italian husband. Sounds like trouble, all of it. Considering how the night ended after the fights were over LOL.
Nothing kicks your fitness into high gear like seeing yourself in many photos in booty shorts. My body feels sculpted and tight this week. I had a great run yesterday and I pigged out (oops) but I am still svelte today thank hell.
The women were fighting for a world title. That’s crazy. Craymazing.
I actually ended up holding the Baton Rouge sign because a girl didn’t show up so they had to share us which is fine because now I can follow up on that and get a lobster steak dinner out of it. The owner was sitting at a long head table that was like basically the last supper and when I came marching by the first couple fights they all waved and winked at me. Maybe if I go for dinner and show a picture of myself on my phone to my server holding their sign….lol jk. Saving it for a rainy Raymi day.
This was funny. I was like, who is this totally gorgeous woman this could be YOU. She was like, hey, but it’s YOU! Cute.
Watching kids fight is intriguing. You kind of can’t believe your eyes I guess. I picture Mommy bloggers dropping like flies. #fainting.
It’s a pretty good job I’m not gonna lie.
One of those world’s most awkward hug pics? I think we were going to pretend to play fight I have no idea it was the end of the night. I look like a conductor without pants. At the strip club afterward I was pretending to be sexy to make my mom laugh and a waitress thought I was a drunk server there (on account of my outfit of course) and aside from all the strippers that strip club didn’t even feel like a strip club.
We had a great time bing silly together ring side lemme tell ya.
Gen admish seats.
My mom caught it all. Best +1 ever.
Flirting with Baton Rouge, looky looky.
In the mood for some leg wrassling?
Alright. Those are the shots I chose of my mom’s 300 or so. If I have forgotten anything important I will add it later. If I have offended anyone, good.
That’s one of my walks. I got to do that 14 times. Maybe ten. I don’t know how to count anymore, counting doesn’t count anymore when you’re flirtyish years old. Anyway, it was fun and a massive adrenaline rush looking out on the fully packed crowd, people (dudes) waving at you. I still grapple with attention and how it affects me. I think I got the shakes pretty much every time but it was all good.
I’m just going to start with the highlights that I instagrammed before I do myself a major malfunction in introducing other shots from various sources. I might have to reconsider this whole blogging thing because it is making me insane. The good insane. The fun kind. The kind where you don’t know anything and you’re always confused.
A famous fighter, world title guy, announced me at the beginning of the fight, after he introduced Mandy, she stood up and waved so when I stood up I did it like a gymnast finishes and lands their jump with their arms stretched out like it was the Olympics and spun 360 degrees to the whole room. Of course I did that.
Well that’s another thing on my life list of things to do accomplished. Will be doing it again in the fall, yay. Sitting ringside for fights it’s pretty gangster too. As the fighters got older and more heavyweight, the sounds of them beating the crap out of each other became so furious and such loud pummelling too I really am a sheltered clueless naive ding dong sometimes. Having hit my head twice last week pretty hard accidentally (from moving, not used to the new house placement of things I guess and the second time getting into my friend’s truck) I do not think I could make a career of getting punched in the face repeatedly no matter how much you guys would love to see it.
My next outfit will be more ridiculous too. Not going to try to be a ring girl in garb, will make the ring girls try to be me. I need a metallic one-piece unitard, something Gaga would wear and FULL ass cheeks exposed. Maybe that is because we all went to a strip club afterward too. Nudity becomes so normal after awhile.
These are the bottoms I wanted to wear but couldn’t find them plain at the AA store I went to, I would have worn these if they didn’t say Brass Vixens on the behind but in hindsight now I see that it super doesn’t matter anyway.
I have extras so if you’re a superfan I can mail you a signed one once I figure out what I want from you.
Jesus what a greedy post eh. Well that’s how it starts I guess. Right now I am negotiating my rate to be a naked dead body in a horror film and I can smell my omelette cooking from here so, lets try this again tomorrow. Have a great weekend ttyl.
And if you’re good and lucky I will share a little story about a massive dirty look I got yesterday at the event as well as some thing about some chicks trashing on me my friend overheard in the crowd. Lol. Sorry babes in general admish, couldn’t hear you from ringside. It’s nice we can all be mature here.