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love your friends. hate yourself.

went to the AA sale on the last possible day at the last possible hour and some chick totally crop dusted me by the shorts. sick.

hearin’ some mad gossip.

sass was stuck there all weekend long. thanks for the media hookup card (maybe you should be thanking me though)(KEEDING). line-skipped, coat/bag check skip, clothes already cheaped-out gift card for ‘em whoot. i picked up two dresses (one is more like a shirt on me as i’m an amazon) and dave got 5 t-shirts.

i haz the weakness.

but it wasn’t enough to hold us down.

can someone please tell me how it is that i get skinnier the more junk i eat? (anxiety) this goes against every single stupid diet rule i ever made. it must be the less drinking. (which evidently is too sad for me to blog about anymore pfft).

we were graced by the conversation of such a stupid twat. they did lemon drops and she goes STORY OF MY LIFE. that’s a nice story on a late sunday afternoon then. POT KETTLE BLACK OMG YOU GUYS! douche comment quotient on this thing has risen exponentially in the last week. have you tools ever heard of like, the weekend?

i don’t care how non-thrilling this news is to you. both flicks for 6.99 i almost fainted.

according to a fourteen year old girl. i can see some parent-influence in there (david cassidy). tory from mythbusters made the cut (though it’s cut off in the photo) but i don’t know who half these people are.

look what my brother did and didn’t even realize it either.

sliced right through the dart plastic.

this bar used to be in our family home. nice to see it still kickin’ around.

parrot fish rules.

re: that weed comment

I meant it in the most positive possible way, having grown to care about you from afar in the four or five years I have been reading your blog. Maybe I have developed ganjaphobic tendencies these last few years, having seen more than a few friends slowly lose themselves and succumb to boring stonerdom.

If it helps you think straight right now then smoke up my friend, just don’t wallow in marijuana-fogged misery like a lot of people do. Your blog is good as ever and I know you have had a hard time recently, but masking a problem with any substance does no one any good in the long run, least of all people with a history of depression. That was my point I suppose, I just made it in a gauche yet apparently quite effective way. Apologies. Last time I mention it.

I’m off examine why I have turned into a bitter old killjoy at 28. Cursed psychological backfire.

Be happy.


oh i’m fine and over it. it’s just funny to me being picked apart for every fucking thing i do, no matter what it is. exhausting, constant and apparently everyone’s a life coach now.

ugh i have a splitting headache.

23 thoughts on “love your friends. hate yourself.

  1. smoke up, in life you should always do what makes you happiest, alot of people drink and cry, ive never seen someone smoke pot and start bawwwwwwwlin.

  2. Marijuana makes everything better (what’s this misery business). Especially food. I woulda figured that fact would counter the no-drinking thing. At least it does in my case. Boo hiss.

  3. “Crop dusting”? Mwa ha, that’s a new one for me. Thanks! “can someone please tell me how it is that i get skinnier the more junk i eat? (anxiety)” so true. Anxiety causes fat cells to fall off the body. I should know. I mean, I DO know.

  4. I totally love Boris

    And, once I was stuck in the middle of a grocery lineup, a crop dusting occurred and I hoped that the carelessly coiffed guy in front of the line would be suspect,
    not the ladylike granny.

  5. “apparently everyone’s a life coach now” Hilarious! Exactly what I was thinking reading the comments lately.

    I like that you smoke weed again. It looks like you get silly stoned, and looks fun. When you were drunk you always looked sad :( Uh, so thanks for that I guess.

    It’s imposible for me to leave comments baked. I just way over-analyzed this.

  6. Hello Raymi

    I am lurking. This is just a note, for you, re writing. I am attending a conference today, and they are providing information about foreign policy, but no heat. Therefore my hands are like blocks of ice. Well…maybe not ice. Lumps of roast beef that have been refridgerated overnight…

    OK. So here are my wonderful insights about writing. They are not so much insights, but rather…questions. Do you aspire to writing fiction? That is the end of question one.

    Now for an opinion about you and your writing. I have the impression that you are sitting there, breathlessly awaiting yet another opinion. Yes? Here it comes…

    If you write non fiction, and the subject of your writing is, for the most part, you, and you become the “product” (in a way…) that you are marketing, and if part of what you write about is your wild child free spirited explorations of life, including the dope and booze, and if your readers become sort of attached to that “story”, well, you see where I am going with this.

    Therefore, may I humbly suggest you experiment with some fiction writing. In this way you can protect yourself, sort of thing. Thanks for letting me park my comment here. My hands are still cold, but I think my heart is marginally warmer.

  7. I’ll look for that Raymi. And now (with the hostesses permission):

    Dear Mesa,

    As regards “weed”; I was in Baghdad before you were in Dad’s bag, to put it crudely. Oh, I apologize, I guess. But, Jesus, surely you know you little fuckers did not invent and/or discover wacky tabaccee?

    As a recovering dope fiend, of course my bias is obvious. My approach to taking anything into my body that altered my mood was this, essentially: if this makes me feel good at 7:30AM, well by golly it’s bound to make me feel just as good, or better, by 9:47AM, so why the fuck should I wait?

    Here’s your trouble, then (to quote the Dixie Chicks)-the brain chemistry is very finely designed, very sensitive. Wacky tabaccee is quite a thick sludge and it tends to change the brain, over time, into chocolate ice cream.

    But for all you youngsters, I say, go ahead, have some fun, get…what is Raymi currently fond of calling it…cooked? Baked? Sautéed? Just, please, do not bake and drive.

  8. I agree with what Maudlin quoted:

    Here’s your trouble, then (to quote the Dixie Chicks)-the brain chemistry is very finely designed, very sensitive. Wacky tabaccee is quite a thick sludge and it tends to change the brain, over time, into chocolate ice cream

    So to know this intellectually and understand the fact that you only have one life, one mind, one body,one spirit
    you would think the best way to live is one honouring and respecting what you have
    and not being destructive

    Any kind of addiction only makes you feel worse afterwards
    and again,
    moreso if there are anxiety and depression problems thrown into the mix.

  9. here’s my (totally unnecessary but what is? it’s still valid) take on all this:
    as anyone who’s ever done any research into the subject can tell you, pot only has positive effects, even the memory-loss thing has been reneged as they discovered that while it may decrease short-term memory loss it actually improves the long-term memory
    i also know from personal experience that nothing is better fuel for a writer’s creativity
    ALSO I am so glad you smoke pot now, it actually made me really happy to see you decrease drinking and increase smoking-as an outside observer of your life through this blog for like 5 years or something…i’ve long felt that you would greatly benefit from it

    <3 J

  10. Raymi

    I’m gonna ask you to trust me that it was not and isn’t my intention to promote a zero tolerance rantathon in your comments. But what the hell, no harm in discussing a bit, yeah? Julia, your statement is silly. Come on. Please. “Anyone who has done research….only positive effects…?”

    Unless you and your friends are now doing “research” and hanging out in the lab, well…

    No Raymi, I would not advise someone/anyone/you to return to the booze rather than smoke the ganja. You’ve written, with some eloquence, I think, about anxiety and depression, and I’m gonna risk something here (I have not organized a freaking intervention with yer ma…)and tell you what I think you already know: when you alter the mood, you are putting on a mask. No judgement. It’s math. Mood + ganja= altered mood. Mood+ an entire pizza= altered mood. And so on. No one is going to convince me that you can mood change for a prolonged period without some structural (read underlying…) consequences.

    Buuuuuttttttt, what I really wanted to know was about writing: fiction vs non fiction, making ourselves the character (autobiography) as compared with creating characters that, of course, are attached to who we are. It’s the writing, Raymi, that has legs. By the way…no need to put this up on comments, right? I don’t want to stir up the shit, I just want to be a bone head keyboard cyber tapper killing the time, normal style, trying to relate.

  11. no more weed preaching. writing chat is fine but srsly drop the ganj shit i recognize everything you’ve said i have my own personal experience issues with it, i’m not being a fucking stoned immaculate crankhead.

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