distraught and overlooked
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