kind of punky brewster right now, i told fil i felt eccentric he went oh great.
i am wearing a skirt as a shirt.
we are bigger star wars fans than you are because we live with an ewok.
we are having jerk pork tenderloin (half price!) for dinner tonite then i discovered this hot sauce fil got as a gift that we haven’t tried yet (only after fil marinated the pork in jerk sauce). it’s soooo good. (i have a bit of a tummy ache now though) i used it in lieu of tabasco for my caesar. ps. the smirnoff caesars are better than the mott’s ones because they’re free of all those chemicals, they’re really pure and clean tasting and then you can just add your own heat to ‘em. oh we also got a 14 pack of honey garlic sausages for half price too, if you were ever wanting to blogspot us at loblaws check near the discount meats dude, fil haunts that section like a banshee.
I’m sure you get a ton of these emails every day and this is nothing different but maybe you will read this anyway and put up with my craziness for a second?
Also, it’s 5pm and I’m on my thirs glass of Baja Rosa which for some reason knocks me on my ass.
Thats how I managed to get up the nerve to write you.
I know, crazy!
I don’t know what I really want to say other than… wow, you are a really impressive lady. Obvious physical stuff aside I’m so impressed with your blog and I just finished reading Marketable Depression and they’re both inspiring. In your book, I really liked the story about the boy and the autistic girl… except the ending but maybe clichéd endings were what you were trying to convey? I am too drunk right now to really think about it but seriously your creativeness and how you manage to make everything you’ve done and every random thought you seem to have is a skill I wish I had.
I’m moving to Toronto in a few months… I’ve been living in Hamilton which blows and I’m originally from Winnipeg which is only slightly better. Anyway since I am moving I hope to maybe make it to one of your parties or even check out your stuff at the Crooked Star if it’s still there by the time that I am living there and have time to visit.
I almost went to Blockstock and Ramioke but wussed out because I am afraid to meet you and have you think I am idiot. I know, right? The fact that I am drunk-emailing you should be enough to back up that fact but whatevs. I am drunk and sounding pretentious now so I should probably end it.
You remind me of alot of the people I used to know. Cool, adventurous, bold, creative…
Eugh now I sound like I’m kissing your ass.
See why I didn’t do this before? Haha.
Lame.
Keep blogging and kicking ass!
-Alys
i love “fanmail” i really do dont feel embarrassed i am going to blog your email
you sound really nice and sweet and fun i would love to meet you send me your picture
wow wine already i guess you took’er easy last nite i wont be able to drink again for at least 3 more hours and then it will only be a couple brews to feel normal again
how old are you and what do you do
i plan to have another art show/party in a year, my stuff will be taken down feb 6 also having a party that nite
i didnt know how to end the autistic girl story so i just killed them off i got lazy ha
this is the most disgusting thing i have heard in a long time.
Jamie: it was good — tiny, too, though all those fancy places always have small portions
me: gay art is for looking at food is for eating pretentious next time i go to a place like that ill eat a hamburger somewhere else first to fill up, then order a minimalistic whatever on some huge retarded white plate then rearrange everything on the plate and send it back and say F to the waiter, pass it on to the chef
Jamie: ha
me: you know how they pile everything on top of each other, stacked spread it all out or move it all to the left this is why i dont have friends
Jamie: you have a million friends
me: real friends ones that would tolerate that
Jamie: tolerate it? ha, i would encourage it
…
jamie: i wasn’t thinking of you specifically when i made that 25 year old comment
He thought Deborah was being melodramatic the way a young girl might get about her 25th birthday. “How old are you?” he asked.
me: well i will be 25 soon way to rob me of the significance
Jamie: but you know, a 50 year old will make fun of a 35 year old who complains about getting old
me: it sucks being the youngest out of everyone cos they always shush u when u moan about getting older
Jamie: it’s all relative
me: like one day ill wake up and be 40 but then i remember oh right im the youngest BURN
i have two great stories to share later when i regain some of my marbles. one story involves a dude cartwheeling from the dance floor into two chicks and the other story involves me crying in the green room. yes even i am still amazed by my continuous ability at reaching new lows.
thanks to me, we listened to a guns ‘n roses CASSETTE i dug out of a box and once i figured out how to rewind then fast forward and rewind it again we listened to patience ten million times.
spooky nitetime steamwhistle brewery.
i’m like, why is there a bra here? oh right. ok WHY is there a jock strap here?
see the guy in the old man plaid hat the same as mine? he made me cry. booze might have assisted in that too.
another one of my favourite things to discuss with lindy every time i see him is how great it is that one of major maker’s videos has captured fat raymi and time capsuled her for ever and ever and no it does not make me bitter at all.
oh yeah i did my signature look what i can do move where i have a full pint or bottle of beer and i double 360 degree rotate/twirl it from my right hip inward then back up and over my head but this time i did it for strangers and sloshed it all over the floor every time which of course inspired me to try again to PROVE i could spill more beer everywhere.
i am watching this right now and laughing at the part when cid shows up.
dear raymi
I was just reading through your blog tonight for the first time in a while. Still good quality material, i wanted to say.
-At which points in your daily routine does your life end, and blogs begin?
i asked fil how to answer this and he said “the minute you turn on the computer in the morning” then i got mad because i didn’t think he was taking it seriously enough, but then i realized i guess he’s kind of right. personally, i don’t think there is a line separating the two, i go about my business whatever it may be and if i think it’s interesting enough to share, then i’ll share it. my life is very blog oriented and my blog is very life oriented.
-Is it cool to think that as a professional blogger, your job is to essentially, well, live.
yeah it’s pretty neat, it can be a little overwhelming at times, like a circus monkey always having to perform, but i am basically doing what i always wanted to be doing, which is essentially “nothing”, as matthew mcconaughey said in dazed and confused L.I.V.I.N.
-At which points does the blog dictate who you are and how you behave?
i dictate the blog, over time any creation has the capacity to seem like a monster that is controlling you, i try to cool it as much as i can and not let it consume me so much (pfft), at least i don’t dream about my blog. exactly what you see on my blog is who i am, there are times when i am being over-the-top inside joke with myself facetious (typically when i am hungover/drunk-still giggles) where even i don’t know what i am really getting at, other than that, all as is.
oh i just heard of a new word, one of the new words of 2007 apparently: BLOGOLLUM – a blog that gets out of your control and starts controlling what you do.
And, for the record also: i actually do my best to vote for you when i can……blog award…stuff….
all day long all i could do was obsess over sharing a meat platter with fil, i googled hundreds of pictures of meat platters, driving myself crazy, but he had to work a bit later and by the time we got to the hungarian restaurant the whole meat moment had passed. fil got the cabbage roll (gross!) i got perogies and “sausage” – i couldn’t even eat the sausage, i had a bite, just to taste. the last time we went there i ordered the same thing, and it’s supposed to be an appetizer, and i couldn’t eat the sausage, but i ordered it again anyway, envisioning the sausage in my mind overpowered my smarts about it, thinking i can do this.
i bought pepto bismol tablets just in case.
my kidney hasn’t really been giving me problems lately and my dodgeball pain is finally dissipating, save for my right groin muscle, does muscle pain get stronger before it goes away like how bruises get darker before they fade? i mention this because i still can’t figure out what the cause of all that nausea was before, anyway.
i watched the kurt cobain about a son film just now, and it didn’t depress me as much as i thought it would, it did make me sad, and it’s quite bittersweet. it mostly reminded me of how sad i was when i was a tween/teenager and how much i hid it because i thought it would make people think i was crazy, or i wouldn’t get a boyfriend, you know, emo before emo was emo.
i used to fall asleep with my cd player on by my head with nirvana tapes, then cd’s playing and i invented this fantasy for myself that kurt cobain wasn’t dead, it was a grand hoax and he was alive up north in canada at the cottages we used to rent over the summer (coincidentally around the corner from fil’s family cottage of his childhood/teens/adult) and i had this pristine vision of coming up to him on the dock patio area by the lake surrounded by evergreens and other up north tree-like shit and we would chat and i would somehow convince him to fall in love with me and he would see how unique and interesting i was and in this fantasy i was really good looking and cool and older or reality didn’t really matter, my age wouldn’t matter.
this is the thought i would conjure up for myself every nite when i went to bed, for months and months and years even. when you’re over-tired and sad you pay a great deal of attention to detail to your fantasies, so it could be an hour lead/build-up to the moment when i would approach him in my mind and by then i would simply fall asleep and i could just visit him again the next nite. this is what took me away every nite, in a way “saved” my fragile psyche if you will. in the movie, kurt talks about pretending he was an alien and being adopted by his family, he wanted to be from another planet so badly, and that other kids he would meet were also aliens and they missed their planets and one day would all figure out what they were supposed to do, that resonated with me so much.
about a son reminded me of how precious your youth is.
in the interviews kurt says a lot of prophetic things that make you cringe a little, about courtney and nirvana and frances, you want to take him by the shoulders and say the right thing.
he talks about his life up until the age of 8 and how his childhood was perfect and happy and then you are wondering what the hell happened after that? you assume oh the parents fucked up right of course, my memory is a bit hazy to all the facts i used to have memorized off the top of my head like any geeky fan girl should, he mentioned at 9 he became a manic depressive and then later on describes pretty much everything about his character that i have also encountered, nervous twitches, OCD, etc. i can’t remember reading about that before, i’m sure i did, but hearing it in the movie was like a door in my mind opening onto a room i forgot even existed, i was like oh yeah, that’s why this guy was such a big deal to me, and to many more i’m sure.
le sigh.
oh and now it’s time for hope&faith my favourite show.
why do we care so much about celebrity death, why do we get so sad, i mean, people die all the time, people we know, people we don’t. i think it’s tough to deal with your feelings over someone’s death you never even knew because it feels haunting, and makes you sick, like you lost a hand and now you have phantom pain, is it there, no it’s not, but you feel it still. when celebrities die it forces us to look at ourselves, something we don’t particularly enjoy doing, that’s why we look at celebrities instead, that’s their purpose for us, and thanks to gossip entertainment blogs and magazines, we get constant updates on these persons. oh one expired, this cannot be, not allowed, basically.
i did have a point.
it feels like we know these people and that they are within our grasp and that it is actually possible to meet them, but then they die, and we realize how far away they actually are from us, and that we don’t know them, if we did we’d know they had secret drug problems, suffered from depression, real people shit.
it’s also tough when pretty people die. do you think kurt cobain’s death would have been as big a deal if he wasn’t so cute? how many people give a shit as much about elliott smith?
i didn’t want to come across as campy and i try to avoid blogging about what everyone else is blogging about, it’s like a big duuuuuuuh but i’m a sensitive person, when people die, i think about it a lot, probably too much, and i think about my life and how i will die one day and i wonder if i am suicidal too, and i probably am, i doubt i’d ever do it though, it’s a taboo subject to even discuss.
when someone dies out of the blue like that it is a tragedy, it makes you even feel a little bit guilty like, oh i should have been paying more attention to heath ledger.
when there isn’t a defined answer for something, or a reason, or even a goodbye kiss, that’s when it’s the toughest.
guilt and sadness aside from stress, i think, are the hardest things for humans to make sense of, to handle, and when you feel them both at the same time, it is an implosion in your heart. it feels like being tossed into a swimming pool wrapped in a quilt, try fighting your way out of that.
here’s a quote i memorized when i was a depressed teenager that i repeat to myself when i am extra sad and i offer it as advice to friends and loved ones:
it’s true that loneliness has a bite but the trick is to stand up in it and not be swept away.
now i’m pretty sure if/when these dudes bite it i won’t be the least bit saddened.
