the quadriplegic twelve wrote a song about me and it is the best song ever because part of it goes like this: shwa malooba meh meh! it is called raymi the minx.
they gave me their cd and signed it. the one guy in the band is the dude who made those raymi comics and my banner as well.
last nite was suppose to be dinner and a movie no drinking nite, well, we had the dinner. then we met samir and some other woman at victory cafe and the other woman bumped into this girl she went to highschool with who introduced her to drugs who had bad hair and is a lawyer and is married and didn’t ask my woman-friend anything about what she was currently up to in her life she just prattled on and on with that bad hair of hers and waved her wedding band around and went upstairs to listen to that garbage music those nerds play up there and so woman-friend and i decide to go up there and confront her because WE are exciting and are at that part of our drunk and of course i am a fan of involving myself for no good reason…
so we mill around up there for a bit and get introduced to her husband with the wide face and wide glasses necessitating the wide face and i say so what do you do? and she says lawyer and i say what kind of law and she says litigation and i say THAT’S SO BORING and she makes a face and says no it isn’t and woman-friend ME WHAT HAVE I BEEN UP TO? then says what she does and boring bad hair lawyer asks what i do and i say I’M FAMOUS I WRITE and she cuts me off and says THAT’S BORING like a ten year old and her face was all witch-looking and i said actually it isn’t i get to drink and party and pretty much do anything i want and you know there’s like, the fame and zero-boundaries so yeah, too bad you’re not an entertainment lawyer.
so we go downstairs because we have WON and lawyer calls out SORRY I DIDN’T ASK WHAT YOU DID to woman-friend and then we get in a debate with a dude wearing an indiana jones hat who is writing in the smoking room and i think that he is writing down what we are saying, who wouldn’t want to i say magnificent things anyway i ask him and he says oh pardon my language i’m writing a piece called the rape of the ROM and i’m all pffffffft and woman-friend gets in on it with the man and i got bored and went back to samir and fil.
i write things you’ve not seen
i drink drinks in your dreams
my cigarette ashes are tokens
eyes so open
they go all the way around
i wasted the entire day
tomorrow i might go outside
yes i went outside i can say
i only did it
so you won’t come home and find me
rotting away
like the apple lady you made
in my head i see me surrounded in grey
it is smoky and dreamy and half-day
i drink champagne
i write and i paint
there is black on the wall
through the keyhole, the hall
a man in a trenchcoat and hat
i am in a negligee and i smoke a long smoke
like in a black and white film and time stands still
i don’t think i can listen to the life aquatic soundtrack anymore, i just had the worst crapping experience ever. out of nowhere i had to go but i left itunes playing super loud and the We call them Pirates out here song was on, you know when they sneak to the island to rescue that accountant guy and turns out jeff goldblum is there too playing poker with the Pirates anyway the song is all menacing and tense and perfect rescue sneaking-around music, it’s an orchestral piece, trumpets and strings and a drum going marching band styles and it’s all explosive and raises your blood pressure like mad, anyway, i am crapping to this music and i have major MAJOR pains in my stomache and my ass is burning and then the neighbours are drilling and hammering and this song is going BLAM BLAMMO KA-ZAOW CYMBAL CRASH! CYMBAL CRASH! BLAM DUN DUN DUUUUUH BLAM BLAM BANG BANGAABANG! and then fucking iggy and the stooges search and destroy comes on and i am like THAT’S FUCKING IT! so i crawled/swished myself over to the computer with my pants around my ankles and turned the shit off and went back to the toilet to have painful hot explosive music come out of my ass instead.
to get over my bad mood last nite we pretended to be spies again but kept smirking on the subway and i don’t like it when total strangers are thinking that i am strange or coked-out so we made like we knew each other and then i decided the new spy-game is speaking in codes that don’t make any sense and aren’t suppose to and that led to speaking in poetry/rhyme which lasted 30 seconds and by then i had a couple g/t’s in me and a 50 and things were perking up.
i decided to put out the coolness vibe whilst waiting for my 50 or rather, waiting for fil to get me my 50 and in case you are wondering the coolness vibe means standing alone and leaning against a wall and making it so you are hyperly-unaware of the fact that you are standing alone. pretending to make eye-contact with people beyond the people/persons who glance in your direction when there really are zero people standing beyond the people glancing at you to make eye-contact with is part of putting out the coolness vibe. hmm i smell a raymi’s guide to coolness vibes article on the horizon
i decided that i had a crush on john of in flight safety but changed my mind ten times, his voice is truly beautiful and some of their songs sound like sigur ros. i saw rannie of photojunkie.ca and told him i was jealous that he was nominated for a bunch of bloggies. then my crush on john was over because i felt like he was pitying me for telling him his singing was beautiful when really he was genuine about thanking me for my comment but then he said he does not in fact read my blog (fil told me he did) so bing, crush over.
emm was good and trashed which was nice and the backseat of her car was really wet and i was happy that i sat in all of it. i gave emm a button noel made because i like giving out buttons because i am awkward and don’t know how to talk to people without feeling like i am neurotic so i shove all this stuff at them, here take it AHH leave me alone.
so i extra hate the neighbours cos it sounds like they are renovating and drilling drills through cement and wood and they are probably doing it because they hate me which makes me hate them more though the renovation noises could be comnig from above or below or the other neighbours but still i like to be consistent and direct my hatred towards them.
i recognize that i drink far too much. whenever i do something i do it too much. in excess is me. now that it’s dark, i want to drink. we are going to a show, i want to drink. i play video games, i want to drink. i have a smoke, i want to drink. i watch a movie, i want to drink.
i have drinked myself overweight or something close to it. i don’t know what kind of a sober person i might be, manic? shy. most likely. neurotic. extremely moody and chemically-challenged.
it’s not a matter of not wanting to drink anymore because i can see myself being drunk for the rest of my life and being perfectly fine with that, it’s a matter of being able to not drink anymore and to drink to drink not to drink to be drunk.
i picture a drink in my hand or near it everytime i have a mental image of myself and everything around me is arty and fabulous and i say all the right things and i am very very witty.
sometimes i am so sick of myself.
sometimes it feels like i don’t know what to do, i have done all the things i thought about doing and there is no place for me to fit myself into, i don’t know how i would fare as a student, i feel like fifteen year olds are smarter than i am and wow they go to school and carry notebooks, how glamorous.
for the moment i am doing what i want to be doing, somewhere very below success and slightly above under-achievement, i am very good at under-achieving and exploiting myself for other’s entertainment and being a doormat like hey yeh i’ll go to that thing you are all going to yeah sure i can do this for you no problem, me no i’m fine i can do that for free no problem. yeah you think i’m going to be something someday? oh thanks that’s nice.
i’m that someone who is forever going to be something someday and that’s what my something is. you know how everyone has a something, well mine is that girl who is going to be something, maybe nothing, but maybe something.
this isn’t a cry for help and this isn’t a woe is me monologue and mom this isn’t a write me a long boring psycho-babble comment on my blog and ask me if i want to see doctor bipolar such and such again, stop that shit. this is my blog and this is what i am writing on it today.
no one nominated me for any bloggies, no life-time achievement no best writing no best photo blog, no best canadian blog, humor i don’t really expect to be the best in any of these categories, being at least nominated would have been nice at least for the life-time category since i’ve been at this since blogger began, late 1999 when i was 17 and now i am almost 23.
this is a bitter post and i am bitter because i turned myself into a drunk, i have been blogging forever and the conservatives won and i am unhappy with my body i drink cos i am unhappy and i am unhappy cos i drink and still no one nominated me.
this is a fuck you to everyone pretty much.
