the subtle disappointment on my face is somewhat evident. to me at least. i was trying to contain it because i have this thing called manners. my voice is nasally too cos i was trying to un-courtney love it. i’m still a bit phlegmy from being sick and doing absolutely nothing to remedy it aside from cold pill avalanche and now i have kennel cough hahaha.
i’m sure adil‘s footage will be much better and less faaaaarty. (come on new camera new camera new camera, wink).
you go in there and look at this shit and say to yourself, yeah, i totally need that. i don’t know why, but i do. i just do.
someone asked me about how i got my frye boots. you can get them from get outside. i got mine free from a special awesome bud under hilarious circumstances. they ain’t cheap though.
also, my hair, how is it shiny? um, i didn’t know it was. i kinda baby the hell out of it and kind of leave it alone for a while. i don’t use any serum post wash/dry. it’s just healthy and resilient despite totally artificial looking. not sure if i’ll go more platinum or not. i think i’m good with where it’s at now.
totally off topic….but your site is fun to read at work…its been keeping me sane the last couple of days…anyway, just had to comment that you seem so much happier since you moved from the burbs. You glow now…your hair is prettier, your skin is glowing and your spirit just seems more at peace…sorry, if im totally off, as i don’t know you…just my observation.
i think your awesome, you seem care free and live a life I wish i could. Im totally living vicariously through you this week!
aw dude exactly. what a gold comment. i don’t care what the shit (other) people are saying, i love my life right now. i do what i want, when i want, how i want, with who i want, for how long i want. actually, here’s a comment i just left elsewhere.
i will die a crazy spinster before giving in to the rest of society’s standards. i was this close to blowing it then i broke free. i have never been happier. who has time to worry about the future. rippin’ it now is awesome. AWESOME.
i love the jesus is in you sign across from wrongbar. so intentional. save the young heathens. you can’t see shit in this pic though. when you go out for a dart just look up and over, you’ll see it.
interesting bonds be made out on the smoke stoop.
i know retarded shit was said i just don’t know what it was, not even at the time. but it was funny. strange so doesn’t even phase me anymore. tune it right out.
feeling this mr. rogers look.
don’t think i won’t do it. oh and as an aside everyone at wrongbar thank you for making me look super good in front of my date last nite. nav, linds, ewan, steve, every single one said look it’s raymi the miiiinx one after the other so good ha. never such a reception, the timing was on too i felt like a d-bag but whatever. then i pretended to be humble about it. then the zipper on my hello kitty clutch exploded off. then Dustman dutty d lost my hat. losing something means successful evening i gather. you think shit’s gonna go tame and then it never ever does.
talking about weird try playing an mj video game where he dies over and over like double dragon and comes back to life but when he dies he’s flat on his face with his hat falled off. what’s next an anna nicole smith pinball game? ha i wish.
i can share the stage though, here’s your moment moonwalker.
yeah i’m so hard.
whomever spun last nite, it was goood. i have to admit this, i kinda like dirty grime dub. still. nostalgic for shit you barely liked the first time around but it’s better now, they’ve taken out the too many donks aspect to it. google ‘put a donk on it’ if you’re going huh??? right now. though, i will dance to anything (almost) and i like showin’ off my slick moves when the music is juust right. people are giving me grief over how too skinny i apparently am now. look, i’m not starving, i eat and i eat well. i’m just in shape on top of close to nil body fat from all the dancing i do and being single (singlish) keeps you on your game. i am not actively trying to lose or doing anything purposely to be looking the way i look right now in the body so, sorry. i’m ripped, for once. i was purposely jutting out my shoulder like that to increase the clavicle quotient cos i am fun like that.
dust kept rap attacking this guy who got all white about it but appreciated the ten thousand freestyle hostages, he’d put his hand to his mouth all mr. wilson and be like, that is good or whatever. pretty funny but hellooo look at that guy’s makeup in the sideground there, what’s up apocalypto.
here’s the video at mitzi’s sister from yesterday adil of mycitylives.com shot of me gabbin’ away about how much i like the place. if you go to the site and type in a place across the city it just may come up video form with a review of the place delivered by some other toronto notable. after this we went to magic pony and then the central. videos of those to come later. hit this link to see a map of the city with the pop up video to mitzi’s. it’s cute super cool and unique, the site concept i mean.
then i changed because i wasn’t feeling my jacket and it was a little hot.
kristin is aaaadorable and so modest and shy and funny. we haz a history yo.
took a little to-go’er from m pony. bilby the tear drip. drop?
blah blah blah great hash.
red flag’s bro.
abi came by. then gill. impromptu hang out of nowhere, pretty fun and caj.
mean gene chez ace of spades, diamond smuggler on the side.
i too am getting another tattoo, soon. not sure what of yet though. apparently if i get RAYMI that would be “gay”. i’m also thinking of a flower off nirvana’s unplugged live in new york sleeve and then of course some sort of border for blythe. ok thanks byeeeee.
update: Torontoist‘s take on our soshe media circle jerk which i have more to say about (good things)(of value!) at some point when i have two seconds to myself oh my gawsh jeez!
kamila’s first time at sneaky dee’s! also their jamesons is 3.75 a shot! !!HUHU!>??
rajiv is aaron’s roommate and he’s in some band i dunno a big deal or something (WAS in oh no forest fires but they’re dead now), or his brother is, or they both are don’t even get me started on how much i confuse the two it drives me nuts and fucks with my buzz. aaron works at the central with me. that’s mia, she runs in their crew. she is awesome and when we hang it’s a you’re awesome no YOU’RE awesome competition. which is great cos i was a super shy wiener when i met everyone i thought they all hated me. i know hey! me? hated? pfft.
two can play at this, ponyboy. also i have no idea who is on my shirt. it’s the one that yells. claudia schiffer? seal’s wife yeah i know but is that her name? meh. i swear a seal could take over my blog and no one would fucking notice. oh man i didn’t even mean to say seal two times in a row and now three hahah.
blahaha we’re so funny omg i know right blahaha ugh barf.
kam brought the funk and she brought it good.
jesus alright already we get it. if you were at sneaky dee’s last nite or know anything about music please tell me what band that guy is in (or don’t i really don’t care). it was the balconies playing and then 400 other people from bands doing 60s/70s covers and do you think i knew who any of them were? make your exit was one band, um, i forget the rest. put it in the comments if you were paying attention.
think we have a dance move theme on the horizon. man we cut loose. i’ll tell you my toronto dance theory vs. us in a second.
Kam Sam nachos time!
Raymi Lauren White
sneaky dees, wanna come?
Raymi Lauren White
come to my hood for once!!
(then we texted and i OBVIOUSLY buckled)
Raymi Lauren White
just think if i didnt read this i wouldnt be hung as fuck right now hahahaha
so we give’r at the central when we close down and dance the floor into pieces i feel largely because we’re serving all nite long seeing everyone else cut loose and party then once last call rolls around we’re all THAT’S FUCKING IT turn the music to what we wanna hear and just straight rip it. customers are like whaaaaaat? we’re all this is our bar move out of my way if you don’t want a dance move in the eye. so then you go out to conservatively acting music loving venues where people don’t dance like orangutans and you’re all, oh right, i’m in the real world right now maybe tone it down to a 6. i asked kamila if i was too wasted dancing and she said no then i realised that was like asking fire if you were hot because she was ten sheets to the wind i was trying to function my drunk to kind of oversee her business cos out of nowhere she was plastered, i wasn’t. i drink like a fat british man, forever and ever and i can handle it (not in the mornings though but…) plus jamesons was 3.75 so turning down that deal would just be pure stupidity. i’m also a nervous drinker and i’m nervous all the time. nervous all the time plus 3.75 plus fat british man i think you get what i’m saying here.
the other brother romesh who didn’t have a beard the last time i met him so i of course was all hey insert the hybrid combination name i have for rajiv/romesh that escapes me now and only comes out when my drinking alter-ego “little pharma” appears (melodie made that one up) this paragraph makes no sense. i am dyslexic. romesh is in hey rosetta. THE END. no wait we were talking about scotch vs whiskey and i said my grandpa drank cheap scotch all the time despite being rich as shit, why the cheap stuff? i offered (i ask questions then i answer them) that perhaps it was because dude was all, i am going to be drinking a loooot of this shit so i may as well get used to the cheap stuff. he wasn’t a cheap man at all either. romesh said, no wait this was a rajiv story. who cares. point is they had a four hundred dollar bottle of scotch around christmas time and their dad isn’t really a drinker, they get home, dad has drunk the bottle entirely, they were like daaaad that bottle was worth four hundred dollars! dad’s all, baaaah, it wasn’t even good.
in summation, it doesn’t matter how expensive the scotch is, it will ALWAYS taste like awful gasoline paint thinner henceforth, whiskey prevails. scotch is just a better word, more eloquent and prestigious sounding.
ps. there is ANOTHER brother with an R name these guys have. FUCKKKKK. romin? ronin? ROHAN! i love that place!
yeah i dunno what’s going on here.
i get really jealous at concerts. i feel like storming the stage then i remember that i suck at everything.
i get angry when the singer fucks up my favourite song though. it only happened a few times. all in all, killer performance by one and all and a totally good theme. everyone loves covers and getting shitty to them.
wild pictures always come out of dee’s backlighting.
ok i am getting sick of looking at this guy. he drank chocolate milk off a post office box last nite on our way up bathurst. he habitually eats garbage for a laugh to gross everyone out. it fucking worked!
ooh the scarves.
i showed up in a thermal waffle shirt (that is adorable) but then i started movin’ and was all this has got to go. glad i always stuff a costume change in my bag and fyi. yeah, don’t wear thermal shirts to concerts.
do you think that little red splotch is skin cancer?
i just remembered mia knocking my drink out of my hand all over our feet it was pretty funny. i’m glad she did i didn’t need it anyway.
i’m skinnier than the model on my shirt. ha no i’m not. though i might be.
great finale everyone up together who am i brooklnvegan man music write ups are so cheesy. oh yeah i haven’t even blogged my vivian girls nite yet. feh.
the singer chick was on.
then we got held hostage mentally while getting shawarmas. we were blitzed, they were certainly on something and it was sooooo sloooooow. asking to pay like totally insulted one of the dudes. like hurry up please can we get the fuck out of here yet? how come during the day it’s rapid fire assembly line but right now it’s 20 minutes and we’re the first in line? because everyone was stuh-oned.
i hate drinking. why can’t they just let you smoke weed indoors?
danny is the shit.
when i meet docile cats and make a big deal about them people are always like, what do you mean? get over it. i’m all no no, you don’t know where i’ve been (cid).
if it’s hump day and you’re not gettin’ humped, do something about it.
i rode my bike for the first time and it was terrible and horrible and amazing. it was raining. i have to break half a block before needing to stop otherwise i plow into people or have to perform bike “tricks” off curbs which is pretty awesome if you’re standing around waiting for whatever to happen to you and then i come along and happen right in front of you. i like to check out my reflection a lot while zipping around but i realized today i probably shouldn’t be doing that while drag racing taxis and arrogant dudes in beamers. especially in the rain.
it’s not that i’m conceited it’s just, i put effort into my “look” and i spend a lot of time alone and i’m sort of insecure and agoraphobic, so then i finally get out of the house which takes piles of effort and makeup and hair being did and a cute outfit, maybe i should get to check that shit out a little too, no?
the first dealer i dated, one of his friends commented that this girl (me) looks in the mirror A LOT. i didn’t know i did that until it was pointed out. then i was like, fuck, he’s right. that dealer spent a good portion of time making me feel like shit about myself to keep me in line (try it dicks, it works) and so every time i’d get up off the couch at whatever party we were at i’d pass the hallway mirror and be like, blown away by how cute i was. not saying i was totally babely (even though i was pretty on my game at the time) or anything i was just so dominated mentally i forgot that i looked pretty at all so it would be a major headfuck being confronted by my appearance every time i took a piss. i’d come back into the living room a whole new person. confident. then i’d start engaging with others in the room, abandon my wallflowerishness for an hour or two.
so, these are my thoughts when you catch me bewildered by my own reflection. i am bipolar. i feel ugly and beautiful at the same time, all of the time. i am vain and i am humble. barf barf barf when i sat down this was not the vision i had for this whimsical little post.
had an inspiring lunch with an old hombre at il gato nero. talked some business. exchanged ideas. things keep snowballing. momentum building.
i have an earache from the windy cold bike ride home. almost rode into a woman outside the lcbo on brock. treated myself to a bottle of jamesons (for the house) and some red wine, chit-chatted with the clerk who used to work out of the liquor store i used to go to in the annex, i figured he got fired for sexual harassment or something cos he flirts a mean streak. nope, just transferred.
i have no plans for the evening.
i need to go to the dentist my teeth are hurting. i drink way too much coffee.
thanks for subscribing to the raymi times. xo for now.
eye makeup slightly fucked. i think i have hay-fever. what’s that shit called when your eyes water up when spring hits? allergies, hay-fever? blah. i’m pretty sure there isn’t any hay in toronto.
our waitress was a bitch. he said it first, i’m just backing it.
fresh in from mexico. ugh.
ate like pigs.
il gato nero is a funny spot for me personally. one, it is on the street where my toronto residing life first began and two, because of this and how lazy i am, it is the scene where i first ever met with a venture capitalist who wanted to make bank off me (didn’t happen).
i’ve met with several venture capitalist types over the years and it’s all fine and dandy until contract time comes along. essentially, they want to own you and the rights to everything you invented. so deals fall through but at least you got a panini out of it haha.
this time around shit’s different though. have you heard of a life rights option agreement? i sort of had before but today it makes way more sense. ok that’s enough teasing for now.
Good evening Lauren!
Still in french! sorry!
Depuis le temps que je lis ton blog, je dois admettre que de nombreux posts m’ont touché à un point que je ne saurais décrire. Celui-là en fait parti!
Autant se dévoiler peut faire peur, autant ce peut être un jeu, avec toutes les répercutions que celà engendre. Pour ma part, j’en ai fait les frais et m’en suis sorti grandi comme jamais et riche d’une expérience sans pareil. Et dans la société qui t’entoure, il faut des reins solides!
Donc je te décerne un césar, parceque tu le mérites!
Pas de blogs valables, de mecs: pas de couilles! Timides! Trops fiers! Ou comme ça ne doit pas pleurer, ça ne parle pas!
Une petite devise:
Who dares, win! And above all: keep pressure!
Je n’irai pas jusqu’à avouer mes sentiments à ton égard, on me prendrai pour un dingue. C’est grâce à eux que je t’écris d’ailleurs! Donc je reste dans l’ombre! Et non, je ne suis pas dingue!
P.S: pour te faire une idée, je fais partie de ta liste de contacts facebook et nous avons nos initiales en commun.
please learn english you say such beautiful things! on fridays at work there is french club and i get guys to translate your comments to me and then they fall in love with me over what you say about me. haha.
babelfish says this:
Since time that I read your blog, I must admit that many posts touched me at a point which I could not describe. That one in fact left! As much to reveal itself can make fear, as much it can be a play, with all reflected them that generates. For my part, I made of them the expenses and me left there grown like never and rich person an experiment without similar. And in the company which surrounds you, one needs solid kidneys! Thus I decree you a césar, because you it merits! No valid blogs, guys: no testicles! Shy persons! Trops proud! Or as that does not have to cry, that does not speak! Too bad! A small currency: Who dares, win! And above all: keep presses! I will not go until acknowledging my feelings in your connection, one will take to me for a nutcase. It is thanks to them that I write to you besides! Thus I remain in the shade! And not, I am not nutcase! P.S: to make you an idea, I belong to your contact list facebook and we have our initial in common.
i love this commitment. right down to the shoes and up to the hair, the glasses, the pants, the, trunk? thank you for taking me back in time with you, traveler. waiting for a bus too, even. i could never wait for a bus in any one of my outfits i’m too sober for this life for. i have to get in a cab as fast as is possible and right to a darkened bar. though it might have to do with the gaggle of lushes waiting up my street the second i hit it but still, this guy, middle of the day, he got up that morning and said fuck it i’m goin’ bob dylan, i am bob dylan, and no one can fucking stop me.