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hahhahaehheh. i don’t know why this is funny to me. well, actually i do it’s because my brain has a foot in it right now. a party foot. from last night. i got kicked in the head by that party. oh well. now i can wind down til sunday.

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here i am doing an impression of a zombie at the motion room. lucas and i fight over impression or impersonation. i just think impersonation is an inelegant harder word to say therefore, lose. even though impression has dual-meanings. my impression of you being you are an asshole, one example. as well as, a stamp impression on documents. oh just so many ways to use this word i am in a confusion vortex now. too much brain expenditure, white. i’m sorry but this is just the shit that goes down in adventuretown. we held try-outs for al last night. he passed but just barely. darius and i walked up to him at mitzi’s and someone makes an adventurehouse reference and this guy smoking with al was like what’s that where’s that can i come!? i was like, um, no. but maybe? someday? first you have to get in with the parkdale boys club. omg why do i live in a world of make believe and everybody else gets to do reality at their desk, why oh why?

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kash trained me yesterday for my first weights day. hahah jeff in the background, hilarious. that guy is going to hook me up with a sweet pair of shoes. i complimented his and he said he had to order them and was like i’ll get you a pair. yeah? for real? sure dude, thank you. then he started telling me different styles, black, hi-top, low. i want the ones you have. copying is fun.

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she was fun to train with. i was like so what’s the deal with jock girls eh? did james prepare you for the running commentary what is raymi? she said yeah i read your blog i knew what to expect. my blog is personality practice before you get the real show.

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i am an animal through in through, in fact, i actually meowed at jeremy at cafetaste last nite. i had a sip of wine or consumed something delicious and he was walking away but also talking and i just went meow instead of “mm hmm”.

WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST DO THAT FOR!? darius meowed for the rest of the night after that i died of embarrassment every time. i must be losing it. darius says it’s a freudian thing. like when the neurologist said yes she does have a nice body about me when he meant to say “yes it’s a nice bottle” about my green tea ice tea bottle. it happened in front of my dad. awkward. these are tales of legend.

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this chick wants to gain weight. um, bizarro land much? what’s it like being uber posi-body image conscious kash, holy crapola. lets trade then i will dump 15 pounds of me on to you in a second no problem no hesitation.

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i look like a tool.

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i love using that thing. almost as much as standing like an action figure.

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resistance is key. i am bringing casie here tomorrow and we’re going to see which blogger is stronger. casie is a mentalcas(ie) like me so this is going to be brilliant. then april will be coming through the motion room. everyone who works at boom works out here too we are like a cult. join us. there’s also a thing where you go only once every 4 weeks if you can’t manage the location of the gym, you learn your weekly routines and do it at home and go in for progress reports and other whatever. that place is packing up eh, also the kid facility too i never saw so many babies in one day like i did yesterday and now i might have baby fever again.

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i don’t know if that shirt should make me laugh or cry. it’s from tracey. steph and i refer to each other by our mom’s names when we do something particularly mom-like. it’s a good burn. omg you are so lori right now.

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that bun is perfection incarnate. took me only 200 tries to get it right. i liked it so much i didn’t shower even though i coulda. when my roots come in i get obsessive about my hair being sleek and perfect and i can’t do princess bun head as much only special occasions and i have to stack my hair just so. superjew’s girl coworkers all know my blog and inquired if my hair was crispy in real life. my hair is not crispy it is virgin platinum and never gets processed twice. superjew said i dunno if it is she wouldn’t let me touch it, thus confirming their suspicions i freaked out NO tell them it’s not!! i can’t believe you would have to hesitate on whether my hair was soft or not total seinfeld moment i only said don’t touch my hair it’s expensive when he was resting his hand in it and stretching it painfully. you have to earn and learn to pet my hair properly. my hair is resilient and very strong, soft. if there was technology for me to blast out a stroke my hair virtual reality video clip i’d do it. i have a video on youtube how to acquire my perfect sloppy ponytail, i use zero hair products to obtain it.

2100 views wow. people will just watch anything eh? i am pretty adorable here and way too mellow. this is pre-weed raymi. i am so shy here and i no longer do this method (baby powder) as my hair is not greasy anymore because the texture has changed now that it’s platinum. the top of my head at the time of this video was all natural hair, roots were growing in and then i liked the light brown colour so i wanted the whole head to be that colour then i became obsessed with lightening it and transforming all of it to blond, more and more and here i am now. voila. planet jessica simpson.

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i am addicted to this place. i miss them when (if) i miss a session. it’s like therapy. if i am pissed off about something i get to escape it and get out my rageahol.

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casie i am dressing wildish tomorrow. lots of colour.

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crazy plank just for you.

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i fear nothing. they are like ok now do this and i’m like BRING IT. if they told me i could perform a back flip i would probably believe them and do one.

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doesn’t it look like we are warming up for football practice?

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making it look easy. you quickly see who’s a big shot when it comes to fitness and moves.

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i’m trash bag hung here. i hid it as hard as i could. james is going to blast me into outerspace for saying this and that’s fine. they guilt you big time. you shouldm’t be allowed to get away with shit.

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what would you do if you found out your girlfriend was not a friend to you? you’d use it as an excuse to get polluted. she thought i wouldn’t mind. leslie says i should drag it out, public laundry. i dunno. she hasn’t responded to my email about it. maybe i over-reacted, maybe i didn’t.

ok talk to you later.

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my blog is popular because no one is doing it the way i do it. yeah it’s easy to take pictures of yourself that provoke and disgust, enchant, things you do that you take for granted that someone in the boonies might do once a year. i live like i am going to run out of living and i showcase all of it. when i spazz out in the living room to one of my favourite songs, “dancing” i am offering content for you. whether i am a good dancer or not isn’t the point. the point is i made a video of a girl, a girl that is a news item in your daily online world. you hate this girl. you love this girl. you just have to keep on her ass. she is constantly pissing you off and “saying things” and in this cyberspace dominated by people who think they’re interesting world, i stand out because i am already more interesting because i was here first. there is something about me. there isn’t something about everyone. i’m sure there are many who are more interesting than me (it is possible) but they’re not me. there is no number one reason why i am so popular. i had a self-reflection moment in elementary school when i was leader of the pack, i could see on some of my peer’s faces that they did not actually like me, but feared me, yet still followed. the fear of being left behind. or not knowing. not being apart of something big, there is that theory and then there is the other obvious one that hey, this is actually good and interesting material all rolled into one mega-opus of a blog and what the fuck is going to happen next? we must know. i can’t even tell you how many times i’ve been written about in the paper, linked to from blogs, featured, been paid to speak to people about this blog and blogging in general (which happily blows my mind) or just be a tap dancing monkey at events. it isn’t a popularity contest. i’ve just been better at un-cracking the code of being interesting forever.

this blog is a diary of my woody allen traits. (neurotic people are super fucking entertaining, no brainer there) it’s a narrative of a girl who is borderline empty, takes things for granted because of depression, is excruciatingly defensive and impulsive yet likeable. i use my looks to my advantage. i look different everyday. i am a trendsetter and forecaster and i have been influencing people since kindergarden. sometimes my intelligence is hyper-scary and cruel. i’m also better than a trainwreck, i’m a plane crash. one day i am courtney love, kurt cobain the next. my latest way to be is arrested development i hope i navigate my way out of it sometime soon.

ps. adventurehouse tumblr is blowin’ the eff up.

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dear raymi,

xo – zz

This sounds like social media brain picking for free

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Raymi,

Sorry you thought that question was social media probing question, as if I wanted “free” info and sorry that you feel the need to be paid for such a genuine wonderful question.

Actually, I was looking at it from a life coaching stand point. I interview and ask a lot of questions to successful people and they are usually very happy to talk about their success in a pay-it-forward sort of way. I’ve never had anyone from corporate executives, to television and radio personalities mind when I asked them what they think makes them a success.

The reason I ask the question directly is more because of curiosity since I can make all kinds of assumptions but was wondering what your take was . For instance if you compare your blog to Dooce she is obviously a more skilled writer and photographer, but her slick presentation also gives off a sense of hiding and doesn’t have the same appeal as yours. I don’t feel as close to Dooce as I feel to you. I think your popularity has a lot to do with the fact that you are willing to be thoroughly and utterly human and authentic even if that means not looking pretty and not always writing the perfect blog or sentence. That, and you are consistent and offer tons of images. But if I had to nail it to one thing I would say you are willing to look bad, willing to keep it real, and in doing so the audience appreciates this more than a polished blog.

Anyway – you get the gist.

=)
zz

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taken after crying, after some news that displeased me.

Somewhat flattering albeit wickedly insulting. Dooce is a better photographer? Who isnt great at that these days.

Your vocation is my vocation so we both know words can be valuable which is why i hesitated in response also i was probably stoned at the time.

I admire your wit and obvious intelligence. We’ll chat.

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Good points about the photographer part. Didn’t mean to be “wickedly insulting” actually I can say for myself that there are many better writers than me, but many of them don’t have the balls to be simple and to the point.

sorry if I came off snarky. pms and long day.

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Pms over here. Out drinking chat later xo.

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i want to blog this because i am insane

re-ask the question i pissed you off about

dooce is big cos she was fired for blogging and she rode that wave. it’s harder in canada. also i am a fuck up lazy and if i worked 5% harder than i already do i would be rolling in it more. 2011 is the year of raymbo.

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go nuts. blog away! It’s what I love about you.

hugs,
zz

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Im transparent?

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I mean that in the coaching-good-way.

it just means you don’t hide.

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yeah i am totally an open book. it’s just interesting to get feedback and opinions about this person called me that i spend way too much time with, i didn’t know i was a personae until they told me so and when i do bad things i can blame it on her. it’s like encouraged schizophrenia.

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OMG , that’s genius. “encouraged schizophrenia”

love
zz

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you’re kind of fantastic you know

i re-found you not too long ago i left you a comment right?

i buckled and broke breakup silence when a cunt left me a comment “muahaha what happened where’s phil” something like that. my immediate response was caps lock yelling I WASN’T DUMPED and a photo of myself in a burlington kitchen where i was having a very private public rebound. i cannot believe that made headlines. my new tagline should be if you date me you will be in the newspaper.

i have been emailed for years for blog tips. when i finish this book everything you could want to know “how” to do it will be in it. i just cant retype 4000 personal emails anymore. my job is talking to people everyday all day, email phone blog real life. i am all talked out and hyper like the micromachine man motor mouth. i live and work like monsters are after me and i get death threats praaactically every day on youtube videos. i will definitely without question go out in flames one day many years from now. i seriously hope not.

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adventurehouse brunch made by lucas. we are making an adventurehouse tumblr because we are regressing into arts and crafts and activities land. no real jobs here. just kidding he has a real job. i think? something to do with the symphony. what a show off.

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i am an old lady and it takes me awhile to recover from my life sometimes. i got up and attempted to get some ice cubes from the freezer with my wet bare hand, they stuck, stung, tore at my skin and then i dropped the oldschool ice grid to the ground bent over to pick it up majorly clumsily opposite of black swan (no not the white one, i wish) and then i came up into the open freezer door, loud and painful simultaneously to this heroic act lucas got cooking onion stinging up his eyes and started wailing. melodie walked in on this precise moment and said, i’m getting out of here. the freezer was attacking me. we are winners in adventurehouse.

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and lucas looked like an ewok. whenever one of them wears a sweater the other one will wear it the following day and i’ll secretly be like come on guys get it together but secretly love it. whatever’s lying around the house in whichever room one will just put it on and then that sweater goes on an adventure through the house.

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our new bible. i will be such a good wife when i have 6 arms.

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we have aprons for our cooking show that no one films. we’re in production.

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i know the sun is moving gradually across the planet because the beams strike me more now when i’m on my couch. it’s great.

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if it weren’t for all these windows this winter i’d kill myself.

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down to business.

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trimmed it later on.

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then got ready for dinner.

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didn’t wear this. too courtney love and too datey. this is not a date dinner.

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so i wore a dumb outfit to yorkville to fuck with people.

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and i felt like a potato. melodie said when life gives you potatoes make potato chips. fair enough.

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i forget what this place is called again.

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bentler owed me dinner for being an unaccountable shit show on new years eve. i guilted him. not that there would be any chance in hell of me crawling out of my own party reverie that evening, hearing how his night went was pretty humourous and thrilling in a scary way. black out for 5 hours. pass.

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i tried to get him to take me to canoe. lucas helped me manipulate him via bbm. what do i say i’m pissed how do i win? how many moments have you had like this? texting is a fine art. anyway, i said remove my name from your contacts please. DEAD. to me. it worked.

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he was like how can i make it up to you? yeah i’ll believe it when i see it. monday comes, that’s yesterday and i only remembered about it about afternoon time and i hadn’t heard from him so i am already assuming he’s going to bail. i bbm about spice route, how i liked it there, we can wing man each other (i am not approaching this as a date we are both now forced to endure for the sake of our “friendship” i want to use this free ride to my advantage and at least both of us can maybe cruise and have fun with it) but the beauty of bbm, the meaning or description is lost and he replies confused which i then interpret as the beginning stages of weaseling out of our dinner so i say if you bail we are not friends. i can’t help it, i sabotage everything in sight and i have zero trust in men. zero. my expectations are so low.

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where was i. oh yes so we stick to our original yorkville idea. he’s cleansing. how boring. how nice for you to cleanse with me. i had sake.

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those two over there were interesting. so immersed in their world. couldn’t tell if they were gay or besties.

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we’ve already smooshed and i don’t waste my time. my nights are very precious to me, my time even more so. so having dinner that is not going to end in marriage proposals is bogus to me. like, that’s friend shit. fine ok i guess we’ll be friends. i pegged him as a player day one. he hates that. what guy looks like this, arrives in his gorgeous white car with flowers on time, opens a door, says everything right, pays, pays attention to you and isn’t a player? why the fuck are you wasting your time with me you can do better, superficially speaking.

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but, you cannot top the magic what is my brain. so they at least wanna stick around for some of that. i am a good friend, confidant, adviser, trustee and so on. you’d be a complete idiot if you turn that down. in friendship world it is reciprocal. you show up. if you can’t make it you have a better excuse than black out. you show up then you black out. i’m not a chump. one friend who owes me money i told him basically i paid you $50 to not be my friend anymore. i don’t even need the fucking money, at all, period. you do. i’ve loaned you so much shit, covered costs, you stole from me huge time and you have the nerve to call me to hang two months after this instance where i covered your bag of blow (charming, i know) and spotted you (this was years ago) anyway scumbag, you prove you want to be friends with me and not my money. you can’t? then fuck off. this, in my psychotic neurotic mind equates my prideful mexican stand off with bentler. i want absolutely nothing from this man and expect nothing. i am jack nicholson in the departed-level insane. isn’t it breathtaking?

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once we got our oopsie out of the way, the competitor tough love in me moved on. shut the door. we’d bbm every so often tales of our exploits. realizing we’re the same fucking person. too many guys out there i am discovering i am very similar to. dogs, studs, players. so i killed my pof account yesterday. too many men, overwhelming. not to mention, pieces of work i’ve been building up correspondence with and this was the ready to meet week for some choice potentials. date machine gun. i have it down to a science. i’m going to write about one of my dates for sofi. is that even interesting to people?

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i made sure i ordered something expensive once i knew he was. then i ordered two more rolls this wasn’t filling enough and i had a period to feed.

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delicious.

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he’s american. he always makes canadian digs too. he’s available ladies, completely un-tameable. good luck. he’s all yours but you can’t have him.

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need to buy batteries for this thing. first battery camera i’ve had. rechargeables are expensive eh.

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it was really cold and i was apparently being demure. i enjoyed being eye-fucked and stared at a lot. when you walk with a hot person and you yourself are not too shabby, make sure to watch everybody watching you, their eyes bounce from you to them and back again until they settle on what they desire. i won more than bentler.

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my old life setting. four years. i don’t think i will get over it until i am in another thriving wifey relationship again. i hope i do it for the right reasons this time.

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this makes me feel haunted. i doubt other people feel the same when they look at these. when i go on dates in yorkville with men they do not know what i am feeling inside when they are arm candy shuffling me along the sidewalk, stare-and-be-stared-at’s row on cumberland.

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the way i felt at the time i was living it too. i was a charlatan and i could never take the attention but once in awhile i’d go shopping at whole foods and i would look amazing but i was too shy to enjoy it and now that i am blond i fit in too much. in oakville, oh my goodness, christmas shopping felt like a jungle and you’re the lion.

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i helped him get these. i advised. did i call them oliver twist or charles dickens? he repeated whichever it was last night when i took the photo of my legs, are you going to get mine too?

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and then i showed him my world. he invited himself up practically. i dashed into the lcbo at spadina/king in the nick of time, we had 5 minutes to closing, he’s like what should i swing around and you fly out of the car i say yes in one fluid movement it will be my opus. i would never say something like that on a date because you never know what it will be like when it leaves your mouth. it was the right thing. he laughed. i bought two different kinds of malbec, one a masi because it’s what i chose for the table in collingwood blondetourage wakestock weekend and i am sentimental like that. another, cheaper, was actually better. i wanted to drink wine alone, or with roommates or maybe see my newest crush.

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i showed my adventure family my piece of fish ghost from piece of fish past so they could judge and disapprove of him. they know all about our history.

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my real hair looks so fucking much like a wig. i am not curling it anymore until it grows. or only on skinny days. man do i ever fluctuate.

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sometimes i bring men over like a cat would a bird that its caught and killed. like a trophy. what does this say about me? i need constant approval. to my new crush i told him during an a-ha! moment, i am one who needs to be wanted. constantly. in short, it is very exhausting. i told one date we can meet at the shoe and i will be the one trying very hard. fuck man, do i ever know the lines.

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he’s too skinny for me. very cute and hipstery though.

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yikes.

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melodie’s like that’s just of you! when it was taken. i go, probably. ha.

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trimmed the flowers off to make it take on the shape of the chair cushions. bentler kept asking if it was for him. no it’s for my friend leslie. i was flattered he liked it so much though.

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the more wine we drank the more we fell in love with it. i sure did. it looks so beautiful. painting the background canvas a light yellow.

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see i need a table about the size of that white thing but more open so i can jam my legs beneath while i work.

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you can see the leia braid. that was crammed as stuffing on my head during my tenth anniversary party. all the others were platinum.

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then i changed of course. see how my shorts have become one with my fat day cute little roly poly torso?

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but you must have more wine.

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then of course i woke up with a trimmed down washboard stomach. good grief do i ever fluctuate. WHER THE FUCK WERE YOU LAST NITE!? so glad my face is blurred out. i’m sorry i’m so neurotic but if i weren’t there’d be nothing to read here.

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not even sucking it in and i know i’m not a twiglette but it’s weird to feel around your waist and it’s gone and there’s no smoke ‘n mirrors except this fuzzy one.

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adventurehouse offering.

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i have wicked cramps right now. i am clenching my entire being trying not to pass out.

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we are serious about our activities.

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just another manic monday.

toodle-oo!

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ok paris hilton gets credit cos she started this entire mess i feel. she’s like a hello kitty pink bubblegum selfish amazing slut nightmare and look, a pink bentley. why not?

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you just want to hate this shit but the soft pink pants secretly make you understand. men are stupid for blond and soft pink. it’s like being with a cloud. a cloud care bear.

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even just holding something the colour pink. genius.

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so doesn’t give a shit.

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perfection. an empiress cloaked in pink. what the hell is wrong with me?

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weird skinny princess di look ok sure.

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when i look like you i will reward myself with a big mac.

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perfect.

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last one. a living barbie.

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this one gets a baseball game wave, standing ovation, and lots of bowing. good show michelle. jolly good. these are all my favourite blonds by the way in case you weren’t paying attention.

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the dunstky. dunsterama. cowa-dunster. duntsterini. oh yeah.

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loved that hair so much i had mine done like it for my tenth anniversary jam.

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she is exquisite.

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me ee ee ow. another goal for next halloween. it’s like a two-for deal. awesome plus awesome. look awesome without the suit on, look awesome because of the suit. if not for the awesome the suit would not exist. dude, the matrix was a great movie eh.

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total cunt to the max and i love ove ove it.

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and her twat boyfriend. of fucking course she goes with this guy (i love him, i am in personae, shh don’t get hurt feelings now) so she can be madonna except her pedigree is better to begin with therefore more entitled.

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oh f you gwyneth you rolled out of bed like that and a simultaneous good show, good on ya there.

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i love her the most when and because she does this. the black thick liner. we know i do that too. maybe it started the most when i started modelling and being nikola and i never stopped and then royal tenenbaums came out and we were all fucked then.

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her body is insane. this scene made me so relate, being very perverted about your time alone, greedy, just so adore it and do a lot of artistic things, whimsical dreamy possibilities are endless girly plotting at your finest when you are alone. melodie and i are practicing being ladies with aprons on in the kitchen and speak to one another as julia childs. we curtsy. we are hilarious.

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her graceful beautiful mother. when i heard that gwyneth couldn’t get out of bed for a week, she could not get up when her father died i was heartbroken by it. so sad. i can see her being plagued by sadness to begin with, he was her hero. it makes me choke up.

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perfect. totally perfect.

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she’s getting older so you can like her more now.

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she is a doll. i love dolls. she is a perfectionist control freak through and through i have such a raging biggie for those types and i cannot help but to fuck with them.

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also me. my room is a life vacation.

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oh i just remembered that i forgot to add gwen stefani. next time.

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totally.

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ew am i a larper now?

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fuckin’ right i’d be lounging around all over the place in that get-up.

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wicked!

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who’s your favourite wet blanket???? THIS GIRL! holly madison

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another perfectionist A type personality. from alaska too.

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she’s a neurosurgeon compared to that idiotstick kendra.

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very powerful woman. totally void and normal, envious of that idiotstick kendra for her ability to be a real human.

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wears retarded outfits to make up for lack of personality. looks amazing. everybody wins.

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embodies playboy. vamp. bombshell. cascading curls. classic. classy.

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enterprising. success.

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then we have elle. played by southern belle reese witherspoon. total perfectionist. she brought a slow cooker on to the ellen degenerous show and served her some southern pulled pork she made from scratch (insane! she is incredible) and ellen served herself first and started chowing down while reese sat there and went hmmph, all dainty, full on stepford wife mode, like ms. manners and ellen blushed. women like that who make you feel like a slob, you just want to impress them so hard.

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absolutely amazing. so much so they made a fucking musical around this fictional character. do gay dudes cry at legally blond? is it still playing, and in toronto? i kind of need to see it.

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my favourite favourite.

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so seriously, what is wrong with me?

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bath time!

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i feel so fantastic after my work out today. i was a fucking animal. i assaulted the elliptical then the treadmill. hello old friend i thought. i’m a fast runner on that shit. before i forget, next thursday is a cougar pre-drink/dinner party at BOOM. if i cook for you it’s free. also if you come you are eligible to win a prize. a family day prize. hint hint. casie is going to do an interactive training session with me this friday morning at the motion room if you want to nab a spot for that experience, let me know. my body is really starting to transform now. next week i start more weights. i am going to reward myself with a tropical vacation if i turn into christina ricci in black snake moan by my birthday. disney cruise anyone? totally not fucking with you.

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gorgeous wine.

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starbucks are a bunch of evil geniuses. their showcase kills me. i only ever get the reduced fat banana chocolate chip loaf (that tastes like disgusting) or an espresso brownie which i inhale by the time my americano soy misto is ready. i cheat on cherry bomb with starbucks sometimes, also poor john’s if i anticipate a line at cherry. i get tangled into talk with the poor john’s chick too much (which i love but can’t afford when in a rush to tmr, which i typically am because i am always, always late).

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some new orleans photos. that was just december 3. time flies. leslie and i ate here two years ago. they were filming a movie out front, this is canal street. i saw the clip of the scene in a trailer for the film a few months back. street car action scene. the food here is great.

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tropical christmas.

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quite the difference in climate than toronto at the time.

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bad hair dude.

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watch yourself now.

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dirtbag princess.

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even the power lines are lazy and sultry. magnificent. i love southern hospitality, southern belles. slow laid back don’t make a fuss. work days end at 3 and it’s mint julips and men dressed like 1920’s bankers they go mm hmm in lieu of a you’re welcome. when i first met bunny, hearing her accent was a trip. a genteel girl, no hint of crass even though she’s actually kinda punk. we had a hot moment.

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anyway, new orleans is a place for muses. it is a muse. everyone is out there, decadent. a bit dark beneath the surface, born snake charmers. hustlers. genuine people. the scene is other-worldly. friday is disneyland drink fest crowds everywhere you get swept up into it drink in hand in and out entire bars to courtyards of drunks from every corner of america everyone engages with you back on the street again cobblestone u-turn through another bar full of patrons treating you with class and manners escorting you through ornate rooms with piano players and yet more servants there waiting for you, just you, special you. after suffering conservative toronto no eye contact universe soaking up that attention is intoxicating. everyone is drunk and friendlier. dancing in doorways pissed at 1pm. you can forget who you are here.

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this was the best weekend. thanks so much for this leslie.

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haha here i am wicked pissed over the virus i immediately contracted upon opening that shit. oh well. s’all good now.

next up BLONDE IDOLS.