my old buddy jen’s new site just went live, yay!

there’s a party tonite at the drake in its honour.

so unpredictible.

my beautiful poetry slams war has been wiped away, sigh.

you have infiltrated my unconscious mind

hi raymi,

another true story by yours truly:

today i woke up late, debated showering but decided against it. actually thought to myself, “if raymi can have no shower days, so can i.” i forgot that i used to do this a lot when ponytails were an option…and that there was a reason i stopped. anyhow…i had a shower late in the day yesterday so i figured i was safe and i went for it.

went to work.

came out of the subway at spadina just before 7, thought “i bet i’m going to see raymi today.” i even looked as i walked past the cow/pig/chicken place, half expecting to see you sitting in the window or something. then, two minutes later – i looked across the street and there you guys were! i saw fil’s camera bag first, then your sunglasses. i said a psychic hello to your backs and figured that was it.

then, at the corner of brunswick and bloor, you crossed the street and came right towards me. i almost said hi, but you guys passed me at that exact distance where i would have either had to chase you or shout to catch your attention, which is weird, and you were pretty focussed, and i was late to meet my friend, and i was also feeling shy and insecure thanks to my flat, stringy hair and shiny nose.

then i went and ate cake with my friend.

the end.

andrea

this one’s for the ladies.

so once the majority of my hangover went away i sat down with shari to fold some napkins, INCORRECTLY. i do one and she goes have you ever been a waitress before? yes, for 1 day haha. then we get in a fight over how to fold a napkin the right way, i don’t think you have had to been a waitress to know how to fold a napkin, it’s kinda common sense and there is more than one way to do it, and i was not going to let it go. i’m a pretty crafty and creative person, self-taught but also from years of watching my mom obsess over making presents look pretty and our home, watching martha stewart and reading bored housewife magazines my mom and her friends shared, basically i do not fold napkins the same way the queen’s head pub in oakville teaches its girls, but MY napkin folding skills are fucking awesome and i am even better at curling ribbon, so to fix the situation i said fine you fold these guys i’ll cut the ribbon you tie it i’ll curl it. oh not only am i shitty at folding napkins apparently, i do not know how to place the cutlery within a napkin either.

remember i am on my period and my hangover is slowly leaving my body i am in the hot sun everyone is freaking out about this birthday party that i won’t even be attending, and i am stressing over my nana and papa’s 50th anniversary party that nite, and i am in a napkin fight now.

all of these napkins were supposed to look exactly the same shari felt and some lady who normally does the napkins would SO notice if they weren’t, tarley said she wouldn’t. basically shari was getting grief from someone else who was stressing about this party and then was sharing it with me, sorry not my scene.

oh and to make a dig i said that she was knotting the ribbon too tight and it was making my curls look ugly and shari said ok sorry, my joke went right over her head dude relax it’s just napkins not a metaphor for failure!

that is my napkin story.

Hi Raymi,

This is the Daniel who asked you about your camera. It is arriving today, by the way. I am really excited about it.

The reason I’m writing to you is because I just read the Kerouac article that ended up in LAist. I wanted to say that I had a startlingly similar experience with Kerouac, and I had never heard of anyone having a similar encounter.

Your “in” with Kerouac was the fact of being a relative; my “in” was the fact that he and I share a birthday. That’s right–March 12, 1922 / March 12, 1987 (that’s me).

I read On the Road when I was fifteen, basically gobbling it all up during one of the few summers at home when I actually went to the beach. I had sunburns I could associate with the reading of that book.

Anyway, it ate my mind. I was at the age when–and it took me a while to acknowledge that this is not a unique phenomenon–I really badly needed to be someone and being myself wasn’t good enough. So I became Jack Kerouac. Unlike you, I did in fact “argue with a beret on my head over Burroughs and all that shit.” The scary thing is that so many people bought it. I spent almost two years that way, spouting faux-poetical manufactured phrases at every turn etc., until a girl I didn’t deserve to be with smacked me out of it.

Most of all, I want to commend you for being able to pick up on the Kerouac stylistic experiment without sacrificing any of your personal integrity. I’m surprised that I didn’t pick up on the similarities between what you and he worked on. I should also say that it actually took me a while to figure out what you were doing with your blog. After I started exploring the blogosphere a bit, I realized that your blog wasn’t just another instance of a particular type; no–in fact, everyone else was imitating you.

So, enough of the ass-kissing. Keep on doing what you’re doing, because you do it well.

Cheers,
Daniel

here is a video of my papa dancing to sexyback your heart will sing.

++

here is a video of fil’s reaction to that little baby thing fil’s mom ordered, she doesn’t think there’ll be a grandchild anytime soon, so she’s making do.

it smells like baby powder too.

the catalogue, after thumbing through it i kinda wanted one of my own, i know! shut up!

this post is brought to you by creep central.

my mom‘s blog has loads more photos from the anniversary party and HER OWN interpretation of the events of that nite and things that “were said” and i look gross and fat in most of the pictures.

oh my god i wish i was there when the social visionary piece of shit tagged that. man it really makes me think. that backwards N is just too much and the contradicting question mark, wow, you blew my mind kid! fucking oakville.

fil’s mum really wants a grandkid.

so we slept in the scary house in our tent and all the windows of the house were open and it was kinda chilly so i slept in my socks pants cardigan hoodie spring jacket toque then at five in the morning i got up cos i had to pee but was also so totally dehydrated and we neglected to bring water from the other cottage, fil woke up at the same time to take a whiz and when he came back to the tent i said in my most desperate voice fil please crack open that (warm) tallboy for me i am sooo thirsty so he does and it was like drinking sand, i was so pissed off i didn’t have the energy to get up and squat so i just took off my jacket and toque and passed out again and woke up a few hours later with the fullest most in pain bladder ever i swear it was an hour long squat then i went over to the cottage and drank a huge glass of water poured another then had some bailey’s and coffee then the room started spinning so i walked back to the scary house fil was awake blah blah do you really want to know the rest? oh remind me to tell you about folding napkins fight!

oh wait here is something funny sort of but now i feel kind of mean anyway we were on the boat everyone was loaded and chris was like where are you sleeping i say in a tent and he says a tent in the house that isn’t camping (there was no previous boasting that we were camping) in this i am right you are wrong tone of voice (don’t use that tone of voice when i am on my period btw) so in feeling upstaged i said DO YOU FORGET WHO YOU’RE TALKING TO in my scary voice and he kind of fake-cowers and says yes and something else kind of lipping back and i snap WELL WHERE THE FUCK IS THIS BURST OF CONFIDENCE COMING FROM THEN!? it received a nice laugh.

i only feel mean cos after that i felt i was on a roll or something and i guess i was the only one who knew i was joking for the rest of the nite it’s ok everyone else was schizo drunk too. hopefully. well shari was she kept insisting she only had two beers pffft wait til i put up those photos. we had hamburgers at midnite and i was like fil you are WASTED eat this hamburger NOW i mean it EAT IT then i inhaled it.

then i decided i had the strength of a rhino and tried to take dave down in the sand a bunch shari tried to help me i think he feigned weakness or he really is that limp, anyway to shut me up he said i was strong, it was pitch-black and we were all just standing in the sand talking at once and shoving each other, pretty fun. oh fil kicked him in the balls cos he thought he was a tree stump then told everyone the story fifteen times and they re-enacted it too.

there’s loads of photos from the island on my flickr.

here is a nice story, we were rushing to get out of the city to go to my nana and papa’s 50th anniversary last nite and we were about to get on the gardiner expressway but these fuckbags with their shopping cart filled with harbourfront trinkets and food thought the little curve turn was their secret magical safety street crossing corner and the traffic lights are just decorative, so we are behind two cars that can’t go because of these yuppie dinks so fil hammers the horn blant blant blaaaaaant and i have my finger on the window button cos i KNOW there are going to be words and this is raymi’s time to shine so the two cars ahead of us gun it finally when i swear, ten of these dicks finish crossing, and one of them looks at us and puts his arms in the air like alfred e newman “what me worry” shrug which puts me zero to rage, of course (there is nothing more infuriating than someone who thinks they are right and have the audacity to make a dig at you when they are WRONG) so i zip down the rest of my window, stick my head out (i look like a total babe at the time i might add) and scream yell at the skinny twerp (everyone who just crossed are all standing there waiting around too) NOT YOUR TURN IDIOT! then fil zoomed us away, i know that guy probably killed himself after my most wicked delivery and timing, i wish i had time enough to say shove your puny little stick arms up your ass! i’m trying to remember if i said you idiot or y’idiot, i think it was y’idiot but when i said idiot i put tons of emphasis on the IDIOT like it was the F word man i am so awesome.

if you want to leave a comment but the link isn’t there, hit refresh and there the link she’ll be.