turn my sorrow into treasured gold
hi there now, Burnoutington hangover sunday nest reporting, making contact.
this was a surreal experience, bittersweet on a quiet beautiful snowy night, all the women in tiaras, on her birthday. everyone holding a balloon representative of a year of this special woman’s life. that’s two times this month i’ve held a symbolic white object to form a human body birthday cake.
grief and love. sometimes you just don’t know what to say.
my bro and i as the twin towers. an appropriate familial stance. i jacked the term from darius, alright alright.
her kids are kind of awesome and now i have new friends. in burnoutington! the cast of people here have been friends since they were in kindergarden, neighbourhood gang. like how we were on falconer. one of their brood, a key member, is who they lost.
we celebrated her 50th here 3 years ago. the sign rachel made for her mom for it, in pristine condition.
rachel’s bf reminded us of my ex, the one with a camera and a black shirt, saying nothing much really. he’s a cool guy though, nuked one of the hundred dessert brownies i ate. oh god. i actually barfed last night after all of this. i am a binge eater. i should be on one of those shows. my brother and i and everyone gorged. i don’t even want to show you the stacks of food we created thank god i am not italian if i had to go to family functions all the time (and they’re all the time cos the family is huge and everyone’s married with babies by the time they get their periods and then there’s christenings and other ridiculous bullshit and food is how these people cope)(please invite me to something hah) i would be violet beauregarde as the bloated blueberry.
i left my camera cord at adventurehouse so i can’t use any of my photos at the moment. but i took tons.
here i am staging the kids on the couch for an impromptu shoot. my little proteges.
ML and i. nice shot linda haha.
aw look at little hailey. she and mary lynne were my little groupies. ML wants me to come up with a nickname for her and held me to it since i last saw her at the funeral. she looks like dakota fanning and she calls me Bluren, my old nickname. i think i am going to exclusively hang out with teenagers and kids from now on if i can help it. i took a ton of photos of hailey, mary lynne and c (bro’s gf’s son) all looking super cool on the couch in the livingroom can’t wait to look at them. ML gave me her email too. email buddy!
had to get my dad and bob out to the balloons, gave them each my two so i didn’t release any. i was too hyper about capturing the moment and my camera battery died as the last balloon floated up out of sight, i got just one more shot of the group and then it died. a sign?
feeling like a heffer i went to the firehall with the gang, my lady gang. the (instigator) guy here has braces. i asked who this polish nightmare was to his table of buddies and they diiiied laughing. they assisted in the aiding of that joke though cos one said here he comes, wearing track pants. i am a comedic expert. use what other people say to build off of. this woman? i have no idea who she is but she taught me a better version of blowing kisses, trashiest version ever. you slap your ass and then do it. ahaha sick thanks.
sang so much last night felt like actual work. killed it. i sang lulu’s to sir with love. that’s how you work the crowd over in the beginning, old school. then i did cry me a river (also amazingly, freestyling the in-between parts from memory) um then i did don’t let me down and then i did the shoop shoop song. i sort of helped robin do cowboy (not really) and she won $25. i won $50 and my mom flipped on the manager. the guy who won sounded like pots and pans falling down the stairs as he butchered fight for your right to party. i booed the entire time. the manager was like i know i know he sucks. anyway, guess who is hooked up indefinitely at the FH now? i said look it’s not about money i don’t care, me and these ladies we just want to be looked after when we come cos you benefit after the fact on facebook, plus the place is crawling with men too, and i am bringing a pack of women. i had a billion coasters with my name on it in the draw (it’s a draw so i am basically whining about not guessing the correct number of jellybeans at the church bazaar)(ooh how do you like that reference?) but also, all the other regulars, AND karaoke ringers were pretty miffed too, and used-feeling. seriously if you heard this jack ass sing (you call that singing?) you would barf diarrhea rage too. he was also wearing a stupid hat.
a friend of my cousin and blog fan (hi thanks for the peppermint schnapps that made me retch at 4 in the morning) was there and came at me with open arms and me being the desperate affection-starved fuzzy angel of cuddles stepped right into her arms not knowing who or what she was but her face was adorable so i went with it but at the same time she is going I LOVE YOU you’re amazing blog blog etc ahahah please keep going. anyway she was like, i told my friends and husband about you, this girl, who is like, probably at the firehall tonight singing and drinking for free so that you can write about it the next day. i just sat there and laughed kind of, yeah, yeah, you are kind of fucking right. pegged. meanwhile i am clutching the $50 gift card i just finagled for myself.
a friend of robin’s kept calling me courtney and i kept thinking he meant my friend courtney who i saw two days ago (ahahah seriously) and KEPT going WHERE? and then i would remember he meant me, as in courtney love. then i’d get mad and glare at him.
it was hard to have game with those rubber boots and mc hammer pants on but i made it happen in the end i think. i forgot my jeans and real outdoor shoes.
i became notorious “blond in bob marley shirt” instantly. brother’s gf’s son said i was his hero for wearing that shirt. i forgot how powerful rock shirt statements are and how cool influencing important to kids. i said to my mom, how do they know it’s a bob marley shirt the name is cut off by my pants. i think rasta colours are universally known. i think the person in life i am fooling most, is myself. you mean, I’M NOT INVISIBLE?
i assume every single female staff member is a lesbian or, they will be when i am through with them. i may or may not get flirted with by some of them.
the hot one is one of the managers, not the one i whined to. she took care of us last week and sent shots over this week (beginnings of polar bear peppermint throat destruction when passing in the other direction) and it’s too bad you can’t see her heels. girl has it going on. ha look over her head.
moms was gettin’ crunked. i plan to stop all drinking this week so this is an appropriate send off.
i used to stack our shot glasses at central like this after doing billions of them with people, fun to photograph. this look i dub rasta princess.
my little lois. she was givin’er. i think we might just have to go to an actual nightclub. where should the cougar pack make its next jungle?
definitely channeling some courtney. guess how many times i had to talk about my fucking tattoo yesterday at the FH. ughhhhhhhh. a blythe doll! a what? A BLYTHE! WIFE? NO! DOLL A DOLL!
and exhaustion despite a nice long winter nap.
my Ruler of Rohan outfit. rock and royalty. a term i invented yesterday so remember that when it gets passed around. bona fide bipolarism.
ok bye bye now.