Just some randumbs. Upload ‘em if ya got ‘em that’s what I always (one time) say.

The continuation continues. The above title means nothing, it’s an emo raymism from weeks ago I once felt moved by, but am now like meh. The continuation continues is a way better title. Expect to see it in the future. The day I land it is Sister’s birthday so I got us a cheesy sister friendship necklace. Unfortunately for her I am keeping the bow for myself. It was the last red one, all the others were green. Sorry too grinchy and Emerald City but mostly St. Patricks day. No. If we’re gonna wear a big stupid bow on our head it’s gonna be in the vein of Minnie Mouse, plus I own everything red why stop now.

Snow is pretty.

Not when you’re out in it though. This photo reads and why the _____ do we live here again?

What’s up it’s a Nana thing? Poor Nana :(.

Honestly, behind the scenes it has been nothing but total absolute stress. One speed bump after another and another of drama, chaos, whatever it’s like at what point does one actually snap? How much can one person take? Saturday night, mom and I were like F–k This and got a bottle of Brut to kick back. Her camera has most of the damage. I dressed down because we weren’t going out anywhere as far as I knew. Anyway it’s a long story but I think I navigated the casual slob look rather well so, capital Whatevs.

We pretty much have the exact same nose it appears in this photo.

Gorgeous flowers from my work. Love those guys.

The ten millionth emotional moment experienced in the last two weeks. We all said something special about Papa and did a toast (shot). He would have liked that. One by one in our one-for-all / all-for-one go around the circle, we blubbered through our words about that man. It’s overwhelming how much you feel or think about someone.

Old men are so gentle, I repeat that a lot. Not all are gentle but I mean the majority of them seem to be old world manners and patience. Someone really good going hurts the most.

From the boat house. Those are doves. SIGHHHHHHHH.

Irrelevant it just got uploaded from my desktop images. I started wearing this sweater again and so I dug up this picture. My mom has one too. This is just last Christmas. Time flies. This will be my first Christmas ever not being around for it.

My brother’s 30th birthday. We threw him a surprise party and I decked the house out like crazy. Fun times. Nana and Papa came too.

More from my desktop. More Holland. TOMORROW! Can’t believe it. I haven’t had a chance to look forward to it, busy at work and Papa stuff. I miss my boyfriend like hell.

And dancing like Elaine in the streets.

And do shit like this. However next time I will have properly sized clothing as I will be packing appropriately to climate. Holla.

That chick is stink-eyeing me. What? Never saw a chick boogey with an on old git before? Amateur.

Fabulous.

Morning after the service.

♥♡ I love you papa.

My grandma’s coat. Starting to agonize over which coats to bring with. Surprisingly not agitated over packing because I’ve actually done quite a bit, and it’s no all last minute. Packing for winter is easier than summer because I can layer-up and hide my body in sweaters and feel more or less, attractive. I am just stoked to wear jogging pants and cook and whatever, real life things. Check ya later!

MY BF IS ANGRY is soon to be loaded up with so much more authentic angry bf observances. thx k bye.

Firstsies, I know that “the last goodbye” is an awful blog post title in the best of times but, 1. It’s a Jeff Buckley song and 2. The priest said it at one point. Normally I tune out everything that is said ever blasted out by my own thoughts but I heard that one, so. It’s incredible that these photos are from just yesterday it feels so far away considering so much has happened since it feels.

For shits and giggles here is Last Goodbye. If you ever want to talk about Jeff Buckey let me know because I’ve got a lot to say haha.

This is a favourite one though and Hallelujah is better than Leonard Cohen’s version of it and I am not sorry to say that either, that is probably the issue we’ll discuss. Jeff Buckley is a tragic topic because he is dead. Far before his time. And he drowned. #griefspiral omg Lol.

These two blond cherubs participated in my Papa’s mass. One sang, the other was an altar girl. When the braided girl sang Fall on your knees, we lost it. It was the most magical blissful, bautiful moment one could hope for. So memorable. Heartbreaking and haunting. This girl sang for my papa before just last Christmas too. My nana hired them, friends of family. So very special and we were in awe in our grief, a mini Sound of Music angel sang such a touching tribute to my Papa. In the words of Jeck Buckley it was so real.

I was amped up and nervous on the way there not knowing if I could speak during the service or not because it’s a traditional practice style mass thing, so I kicked it off and spoke at the beginning which was great because I could get it over with and not dwell nervously upon it throughout the mass. I could barely see as I read because I cried so much, I couldn’t to look to anyone for cues for how it was going either because I just simply could not fucking see, but they all heard me and congratulated me afterward and this is a clear cut memory blurred image imprinted forevermore on my mind. No one forgets funerals.You never forget family either, people you seldom see yet are related to – you will always remember the sweater they wore and the glass they were holding, with fondness.

This is what I added to my eulogy. It was endearing to have elder cousins/their spouses etc say they wished they knew me better so I could say something like that about them at their funeral — we joked we could just change the name and I’d say the exact same thing. Hahah I love my family. This wake taught me that I need to spend more time with some of these great people. It is never too late.

I also recall leaning over the pulpit with my arms bracing either side of it, framing my paper and feeling rather diplomatic plus like an insane baby. I do remember seeing my Nana wiping at her eyes and was like, okay go fr it Lauren. Death is a funny and uncomfortable horrific thing to navigate and when you’re on the front lines you see all of the effects it has on those closest to it and how it changes things and your scope goes a bit wonky. The grieving process hasn’t even begun for the most of us.

Dancing on his 50th Wedding Anniversary with my mom. He had a great life.

This is one of those mash-up posts so just chill.

It was a vest day. I wore those shoes on my first day and left them there that is how much I don’t wear heels. I don’t need to front like that. BUT. Maybe I will some day.

This look lasted one day.

I have been engaged in a secret robot battle bathroom war for several days now and I do not know whom else is involved but this was my most recent contribution to which it stopped shortly thereafter so who knows and I haven’t asked out loud who else is in on it but I know it is likely a select few if not one or person so it’s going to continue until I start seriously studying how many people use that bathroom and when and yes it is both psycho and awesome that I care about and am furthering it. IS IT YOU!?!? One time I had him jammed down the glass vase like an Olympic swimmer. Then he was changed into something else, climbing the branches… nice.

It is so cold today I am wearing two pairs of lounge pants and a sweater with a sweater poncho on top, wool socks, wool hat. THANKS CANADA.

Split a spinach cheddar omelette with mum today. Burning my toast partially, helps ensure I eat less carbs.

Euros wuhooooo. Too bad it takes $600 to make €400. Ridiculously unfair. I should have gone to the ghetto cash money place instead of my bank.

Cray snow day. TBC. I is tired. xo

the following is a three-part tweet story with a bonus “nothing important” tweet for good measure. #respect. (read it bottom top thanks).

Ps. my Last V-Spot. Another one is coming out tomorrow I think.

Now, the reason why this is so good is because the ad has effectively tugged on my heart strings. My “I want that” has shifted to I need that. This yearning has compounded from the child getting up and reaching, the setting location of Piccadilly Circus which is already romantic escape enough as is but I am looking to an airplane jet-setting off to Spain and thinking of drinking caipirinhas.

READ THE REST

Hope your Monday was killer.

We had an amazing awkward hotkward lunch party on Friday. Supes awks and hilarious. I’m hoarding some majorly awkward photos from that day I’ll spread around tomorrow at work can’t wait. BEST.

I work right beside that blue recycle bin to the left you can’t see it though. Hipster girl is so not a hipster irl is why it’s funny/awkward. She almost went goth. Two bros wore wigs of mine. There were some intense get-ups.

Buffets are awkward enough too, no? Yes. I had barrettes on too.

Said Courtney Love barrettes left over from said costume and barrettes borrowed from said niece who cleaned me out of a lot of my coolest items I am still discovering here and there and blowing a gasket about. My black keys shirt!>!!? COME ON SON! No. Just no.

Here I am being awkwardly amazing for my senior kindergarden birthday party. My brother and I have ten day apart b-days so we always threw joint gala affairs that were off the chizzle. Our friends all had a sibling of the same gender and age as us/each other so it was like a no-brainer. This party in particular is filmed and we watched it a lot because of everyone was dressed ridiculous for the time, like mega-fashion look out!!! was happening everywhere you looked and it was all terrible. It was basically The Wedding Singer I am pretty sure that movie was based on this party from when I was in kindergarden that is all I am just saying relax cut it out don’t have a cow man play some Michael Jackson.

I cannot get over my face here. It is epic. Perfection. I am jealous.

We agreed we were reversies Mary Kate and Ashley Olsens as each girl plays the opposite to what they are IRL in character on film or tv – edgy plays reserved and vise versa and sooo not to be insulting but obvs I’m the edgy one here not that I am bragging I would so totally much prefer being a sleeper and come in with less noise but that is not the way shit rolls so whatever.

I have wanted this purse since I was 27. That is how lazy I am. Sister bought it for me as a surprise when she left Canada I think I’ll probably bring it there it’s a great size compared to the dorky little thing bf got me.

Us in MTL. Miss my Papa so much already can’t believe it. I’m going to read at the service wish me luck. Beside him is my great grandfather, papa’s dad. J Kerouac’s Uncle. Closer relation. He was such a man, my mom’s absolute hero she adored. Oh man so many emotions. Asked my mom why we all looked like Home Improvement. Nana laughed, she got that one! Cool vest mom.

One of my dance recitals. My mom dressed me or fought to, like seriously? Thanks for that. Your personal style also lacked.

I was work clothes shopping the one day in between my papa’s passing and this night we were called late to hospital so I was a trainwreck the next day at work I think I left early it is kind of a blur. Then the next day I left early because he died that day. It has been all business and not much time to allow it to sink in, it has been a crazy week. Yesterday I was a wreck too everything hit me. I try not to stay too present in the moment because I can so make myself get emotional just like that. I love my work it takes me away and everyone is wonderful.

We had no idea at this point. Thought he might get better, he wasn’t out of the woods but it was assumed less touch and go. All these gentle hospital sayings to distract from the awful reality. I had this similar experience before too with a better outcome from another family member, the jarring-ness never changes no matter who it is you are always fleeing through the hospital in a panic. I granted myself access to entering the emerge via side nurse station. Fuck that I am not waiting death doesn’t wait. Okay I’ll stop now time for a drink.

Since I last blogged, the worst and unexpected thing happened that you might probably know about already and it has been difficult to blog since then – for lack of time, want, as well as not knowing how to dive back into it. Cutting off a post midway is always unwise, and lazy. Trying to continue the story with images of your last weekend is hard enough, more so when you know it’s only going to lead you to a dark place, a sad one.

I posted this on my FB, if you’re my friend you’ve read/liked and/or commented on it already. Thanks so much for your kind words and support during this difficult time. It still has not fully sunk in and I doubt any of us will be getting over it any time soon.

My Dearest Papa, you were the sweetest most gentle of men – so kind and, so very calm. You raised us up when we were down and always had such beautiful wisdom to impart when we felt lost, you found us with your bright outlook. Even if we did not know ourselves, you knew us well – I was always amazed by the things you shared, not a thought ever spared. You took the time to comfort your family in times of need, you were just always there and it is such a privilege ever having known you Papa. You taught me if I dressed like a lady I would be treated like one, so I stopped dressing like a complete slob at 15 I never forgot that. You told me about your paintings from your many travels with Nana and your sentimentality has certainly spread to all the rest of us sensitive fools. It was so hard to say goodbye to you today, you were so special to me and a hero to us all. I have faith and hope that Nana can be strong right now, we are all rallying around her – know that you are so loved, appreciated, adored and admired. We were all there at the final moment and happy that you could be comforted, not alone, or in pain as you went. I will always cherish the last weekend visit we spent with you and doubt that Christmas tree is ever going to come down.

Even though my heart is breaking I am happy that it is an angel of which I’m writing about, before and ever after – you were an angel in life. Je t’aime Papa. May you rest in peace and we will meet again. Your inner and outer beauty lives on, as well your incredible hairline. Love you forever, Lauren.

It’s really hard looking at these pictures. They stir up a lot of emotions and feelings about this wonderful man. I’ll just get on with wrapping up the ones I have left over from the weekend before I head over to my Nana’s.

I was pretty zonked on Saturday yet had energy but there was no way I was going to miss out on the tree. That weekend is crystal clear in my mind.

My mom said she has no idea how this martini glass turned out to be so large-seeming and yeah it looks huge but it’s just “normal” size.

The next day we went to the hospital… My uncle bought this bear.

You’d be surprised by the nice things one can purchse at the hospital shoppe. Nana calls it the shop, like just going ’round to the shoppes. So British that gal.

Papa and I had a nice talk about this painting and he told me he would tell me the rest about it later and repeated it as a promise that he would be around later to tell it and I had the distinct feeling that he would not and resisted the urge to insist on hearing the rest, about the painter, but it didn’t really matter. What only mattered to me was just sitting with him and talking by the Christmas tree, it was relaxing. I will probably cry like a baby all night long when I go there.

Of all the ornaments and xmas-y shit we unpack and put up annually, this mouse is the most important thing and we became increasingly agitated until it was located in the last box. I stole it when I was about 4, I can’t remember where from. It was almost discarded and seemed like it was meant for me to take, I might even have found it in the neighbourhood park but I gave it to Nana to keep the heat off me and my guilt/shame likely erased its origin.

See, he’s busy. It’s no secret my family is comprised of eccentric sentimental weirdos so it makes sense that the importance and value of this shitty mangy mouse is off the charts. I was like, Nana, you BETTER FIND IT and she was all I KNOW! Then my mom got in on it and was like OMG WHERE IS IT! bahah. And I swear to god if it ever goes missing/gets thiefed, the world will stop.

It’s so precious that we’re afraid to display it too much out in the open. I will probably stroke its hair and nose until it’s bald plastic gahahha. Nana used to keep it in the xmas seasonal branches and flowers at the bottom of the stairs and if you were in-the-know you’d see Santa Mouse as you went up the stairs, you might even say hi or make a funny squeaky talky voice for him. I might have missed my children’s tv show calling in life.

That’s your hero. I could have easily worn this sweater today at work for awkward lunch work party. Man that was fun and a much welcome distraction.

I bought Nana that bird in a cage you know that already if you’re a Little Raymi thuper fan. Notice how I only talk about all the crap that I buy Nana like I am a saint? Whatever. What the hell did you get her? Exactly.

I am trying very hard not to bum myself out about this right now. I’ll just stick to narcissism. One of the many best things about my Papa is he encouraged my mom and I with our photography, never ever ever said anything snarky about it like so many other people in fact he’d say that my mom needs her own studio. He was so fucking nice like that it was so touching to hear all his commentary, normally there’s at least three other people talking all at once I would always zero in on him though and clear the airspace, tell everyone to shut up Papa is talking. People just aren’t classy in their youth, or as classy you know we talk with gutter mouths, like garbage sometimes so I view their verbal diarrhea as pollution, offensive noise especially when someone so gentle and sweet is speaking who means so much to me and every time I ever last saw him my heart would hurt because I knew it wouldn’t be long.

I see some of him in my face sometimes too. I see all of my family but certain hallmark features, like eyebrows, are him. Almond shaped eyes, that are tiny. Sometimes I think we hold our mouths and smile similarly too.

In the one below, where he isn’t featured I see him. I think when my pupils go big, when I’m on coffee and the smile, teeth?

Anyway do you like these poses?

Nana is owning me at the pose off. Look at mine.

Do you think Nicki Minaj would be my internet celebrity friend on account of our shared interest in singing?

They were best friends to the very end. He was 84. I have never seen anyone be together that long. Married 57 years. I’ll get back to you on that if I am off by a year or two.

Nice one Eddie.

Miss you terribly already.

He played Santa every year. I remember my first year sitting on his lap hearing all about the North Pole for a solid hour, I was enchanted, mesmerized and kind of knew by the end it was him but still this man, my papa, was a magical man to me, kinda Santa and my Papa at the same time and I was already having such a dope ass time chilling with my cousin and family then, uh oh, Big Bird shows up – my big Christmas gift and it nexted everyone else that year. You played a cassette in his back and he was a sister (brother) to Teddy Ruxpin (for dweebs!) that year. My papa had to put white in his eyebrows to commit, and he did. Everyone else had Grandpas with white hair and mine had dark black hair with a french man’s widow’s peak, like Dracula. There is a picture of this moment I will share later.

The next day we got a call and I didn’t realize it wasn’t a routine hospital thing, my mom and Janet at once were like HOSPITAL WHY?? They know my Nana and Papa’s routine, I slept over with my mom that night (we are buddies, we hang) and so we rushed to the hospital frantically, he just had pneumonia out of nowhere because the day before he seemed completely fine.

My uncle. Okay I gotta go sorry for blabbing your face off bye.

Me today.

Also and me right now. Watch it. Listen. I have to write the eulogy tonight and the obituary.

Stay sweet.

It’s a Nana thing continues…

Every year we do Nana’s tree, you do it once and she’s all, again please. SO it’s a thing. You can’t back out. I was ass tired on Saturday but I soldiered up, put on a collared shirt and headed over. Now that I’m a superstar with a proper job plus other cousins were over I could duck out the odd while to have a tree decorating beer/champers breather. It was a delightful dysfunctional family thing-thang of a day. The Kerouac are very expressive people, never a dull moment.

These will be in Craymi order of events, as I pillaged my mom’s FB pictures after the fact of uploading my own snaps from the day/kend. Went out to eat after the tree because everyone ate the perogies Nana made while I was talking to Papa about those special deep topics one shares with their grandfather because you never know how much longer they have left, as effectively stated and repeated by my mother and Nana for the last decade. I needed to go out for real food after all that champagne. Plus drink more.

Oh boy what a drama (that’s what we say in Holland) and while trying not to get too personal about it, my grandfolks are at that age. Mom and I both received private number missed calls, my sound was on silent and she didn’t answer hers but it was Nana from hospital. We went with my Uncle and we were all kind of crazy about it, in disbelief, scared, nervous, stressed and chugging along. We look to the adventure aspect side to things to self-preserve and we knew it wasn’t “the moment” but it still gave us a scare that is for sure. Emotional roller coaster weekend.

Well at least you look fabulous mom.

Life is precious, blabbity blah. I have wanted to spend more time with my Nana and Papa for awhile now, I have not seen my own friends in the city in awhile either, since a long while and as each weekend slips away from me for this, to do that, I am reminded that it is family that will always come first. Friday I was a disaster and exhausted Saturday for it. Sometimes I fee like I am 45 years old so when my younger cousin exclaimed she thought I was 22 I loved her. They have no concept of time, there is no possible way I could be 22.

Also, whether I like it or not my mom is always taking photos so if I look like sh!t I’m f’d.

If I gave myself the nickname “Nana” with these glasses on to my family it would spread so I have never said that out loud before now.

My mom got that for her, it is similar to a photo of my nana and her sister as little girls. You know that eerie haunting way of photography from long ago.

Aerobics dance break sorry!!! Kind of a spazz basket case from today. TBC…

Perfectionists.