She Does The City and i had a little get together over email and i finally got around to answering some Qs. ew when people say Qs i feel really grossed out. for some reason i picture the library from my elementary school and the super long beanbag snake chair we all sat on during story time. weird shit. ok here is a blurb:
SDTC: Do you think of yourself as different from your blog alter-ego Raymi?
Raymi: Only when I learn people have pre-conceived notions of me and say as much when they meet me and realize I’m not yelling and screaming and terrorizing the room. People can talk a big game on the internet BECAUSE THEY’RE ON THE INTERNET. How I write is how I think and I do some thinking in real life too. Everyone wears a different hat for different occasions; I don’t see what the big interest in my personae is. If I’m able to write a paragraph and you liked it, guess what, I wrote it, that was real. It happened. What’s the big mystery? Or are you asking if I’m really bitchy? I think at root that’s what a lot of women assume/want to know (it’s happened) – if I were a man this question would never be asked, we would just allow him to be and take him for what he is.
join my extremely hardcore gang it costs 20 bucks and you get these stupid glasses plus protection too. we go out in roves for moonpies and pennywhistles, we never swear and we dance for old people in nursing homes.
grab a copy of the metro today and look for sofi’s column, cut it out, mount and frame it, hang it on your wall. or just read it on the internet.
anyway, my two cents on that thing is maybe everything was what it seemed all along if i wasn’t ever smiling. no one bothered to ask. JUST SAYING. ok i can tell i’m premenstrual when i think yell-typing is comedic.
I was watching The Colbert Report last night and he discussed a news story
out of Vancouver (like most geo-ignernt Americans I have no real idea of
where you are in Canada) about a woman who is going around randomly kicking
men in the balls. I immediately thought of you even though I haven’t
checked out your blog in quite a while (tyranny of the crappy computer). It
seemed like the type of guerilla-conceptual-performance art movement that
would require a true innovator, which we all know you are.
I’m not going to say that I hope this movement catches on around here, as
my boys bruise easily, but it’s a novel idea nonetheless. I’d also like to
note that you appear fine, fit, and prosperous which is beautiful. I’ll try
that beer and o.j. thing and check the blog regularly once more.
Life is a cabaret – two drink minimum.
— Admiral Farragut
one more place i’m mentioned (for now). kate is a magnificent writer i have no sour grapes. she gets it right (most of the time). though i’d say i’m more reactionary than i am sensitive. reactionary because i’m sensitive maybe. definitely. probably. i really liked her use of the word albatross. turned it over and over in my head last nite, numerous times.
anyway, somewhat related, came across this postsecret yesterday (remember those things do you miss my take-downs?)
once i got passed the terribly confusing way that sentence ends i thought well fuck, be grateful you’re not a blogger then. if you only knew. i am often asked how i deal with online hatred, trolls, name-calling, incessant relentless constant torment. i think it changes from person to person. i’ve always had a strong ability to distract myself for the sake of self-preservation. if there was chaos around me (yelling) i’d read and play music, tune it out. i guess my brain orchestrates a circus up in there for me or something cos sometimes the things that get said about me oh shit if i spent more time considering such things i’d swan dive off a building. drinking helps too but we all know how helpful it really is after all. it isn’t. the thing most annoying about this blogging shit is the real life people who get in the way of it, who make assumptions. who say really shitty stuff about you behind your back to relatives and start family wars. i have taken it from all sides, basically. for years. being the bigger person all the time is tough. i know they’re reading still. obsessively. do i want to smear the hell out of them like they did me? yes. do they deserve it? absolutely. will i do it? no. not worth it. they don’t deserve the attention. the same goes for troll commenters. ignore delete delete delete. that’s how i deal. i forward out the comments to a few close friends, we try to decipher who the piece of shit is, make fun of them, then move on. once i ban them, naturally. don’t swallow it all on your own, share it with people. i can remember a time a year ago i was getting it really really bad, i lost seven pounds in two days over it but anyway i was told that it would “ruin us” or could if i focused on it too much or talked about it. wrong. NOT talking about it will ruin ME, it bears no consequence for you. so i silently took it and it changed me. hardened me. made me skeptical of everyone, people i considered friends. ugh.
if i wasted my time trying to figure out why people say the things they say or feel the way they feel about me then i’d have a really popular blog. oh, wait… as always i have so much more to say on this topic but it’ll have to wait.
next up on the agenda dun dunna nuh! (trumpets): DEPRESSIVE REALISM.
i’m wild-eyed i think cos this was shot the day i ventured into my old naybe to collect my stuff. that was a rough day. also it was raining. this was pre-breakupsplanation blogging so this actually has nothing to do with (for once) breaking up on the internet, just purely coincidental. i had told joe a little bit about it (splitsville) when he arrived and he was like uh do you want to talk about it on camera? um no! thanks though news scoop. anyway, he wanted to use more of my verbose footage insights but yeah, short news clips are how it goes. we will be doing a feature sometime in the future though.
the lyrics to this USS song are hilarious. makes me laugh my ass off if in the right mood.
Stationary robbery
I stole your pen, so you can’t even write again
I took your HB, 2B and your sharpie
Your protractor set, laptop and PC
Now you can’t write, nor can you type
Let’s just say your office supplies are really tight
You can walk and talk, but you can’t use chalk
I’ve even got your blackboard on my jock
I cock back your stapler with my hole punch caper
The Grand & Toy bandit cause I’m their paper clip taker
Stationary robbery
I stole your pen, so you can’t even write again
Finders keepers
3 ring binder weepers
Death to your desk, I’m the cubicle reaper
No ethernet, no internet, no email, no
Actually I saw your modem in an old box at my yard sale
Frustration
You lack a power point presentation
No pointer, no laser, just a pencil with a wore down eraser
I own your paper, stapler and your hole punch
And while I robbed your office
I even stole lunch
Stationary robbery
I stole your pen, so you can’t even write again
dear aunt raymi
I had a dream about you last night. I’m sure you get that line alot. Sorry. I think you were at a family gathering of mine with a friend of yours. The pseudo funny part is that Brad Pitt was also in this dream, and I dropped everything to talk to you and only you. Gay much?
Anyway, I’ve let your blog influence my life for a couple years now, and I’m ok with that. I think I grew my hair out because of you. Ok, no. Not really, but maybe. I consider your blogging an art form. you’re such a strong, beautiful woman, and I greatly admire you for that. With all that’s going on in your life, I just wanted to share that with you.
If you ever come to Chicago, I want to know and be your friend for an hour or more. We’ll get Mexican or Chinese food cuz that’s my diet.
Now it’s time to do my dishes or something like that.
went to a rock store last nite and was amused to hear them listening to the new tegan and sara record. amused because one of the chick employees had a tegan and sara haircut. i was smirking the entire time about it. secretly. internal smirking. reminded me of this: watch clip 4. sidenote: can you believe i haven’t seen real tv in over two months? i can’t get over how much i used to watch it (evenings) can’t say i miss it. maybe some shows but yeah, real life is better.
ok that’s enough investigative journalism reporting for today time to get high, drink more coffee with cougar cream booze and vacuum this fucking place. i just picked up a mountain of dog hair from along all the kitchen baseboards. impressive and sick. no wait, c’est amusant!
wax accident. i decided to blow out the tea light with the melted wax liquid still partying on top. red everywhere. smooth. looks kinda neat horror show, some wax on the necklaces too. not as good as gill’s red nail polish explosion all over her white bathroom though, inside toilet too.
red morning. couldn’t manage to get one non-blurred out shot.
go get a pair then come over and we’ll play devil sticks in the backyard! there are 4 others, all smalls. don’t throw them in the dryer mom!
oh look i’m on mtv! trying to figure out how to rip this and upload to vimeo so i can embed it here. nerds help. (it also airs tonite at 6.30/11.30 if you felt like watching it on television for some reason).
It’s funny, I was thinking about how this Tao Lin guy; as far as my limited understanding of who he is and what he does, he reminded me of you. Except he has some published stuff in magazines (i have published stuff in magazines too), and lives in New York, and I think it’s mostly publications in New York that give a shit about his writing.
I remember reading about his books, never his blog(s?) and maybe an excerpt from the Shoplifting from American Apparel one and thinking…I wonder if Lauren knows this guy, and how I knew about you before I knew about him.
Seems like you’re both coming from the same family of writing (whatever that means). Also, I believe you guys are the same age.
Anyway, come and visit soon. Also if you know of anyone looking for a short term furnished room, let us know. $530+ hydro/free internets. Parkdale.
Regarding haters, Toronto eats its young. I’ve been here ten years (holy shit) now Lauren, and other than ****** it’s not working for me. You’re lucky though. You’re good at what you do and people flock, whereas, I’m good at what I do and people sporadically appear.
We’ve never really been able to create that sustained growing crowd (want to be our publicist? ). Still hit and miss, and quite frustrating. My favourite thing is, “Oh, I’ve heard of you guys”. Anyway, fuck it. Insert cliched Toronto not appreciating rant here.
There’s a high possibility of moving back to Vancouver. Help my mom out with my sister, healthier lifestyle, more time to write, etc. It’s crazy to think how young we were when we met.
