woah hold up moon beams (under-eyes) what is this greenpoint? (brooklyn joke)(you wouldn’t understand, you aren’t very cool, it’s ok though)(no it’s not)(()()()help i can’t stop doing brackets. lisa disappeared into public butter after our disaster hangover cadillac drunk lunch afternoon appointment. we sat in sopping wet clothes progressively becoming more and more retarded (it was really fun)(we think?) and lisa described everyone’s outfits in the room and gave them appropriate celeb-ties, i think we had a mae west? i forget.
we lit the hello kitty candles. if i can’t live in the hello kitty mansion then i can build my fucking own. lisa was like, those are awesome. after i go i know, he’s so whipped right? she collapsed into the cadillac booth. the teacher thinks i am an eleven. pfffft haha.
the rain made my newly processed hair (toned) crimpy. i was full on skid revival yesterday bab-ay. hey raymi nice givin’er with ya is what terry put in my fubar book. le sigh. then i recited a passage about benders to teacher as we were walking back to the tower from a booze run. the second walk in the rain yesterday. it would be an insult to degenerates if i said that was what we were yesterday. i am starting to have blog stress nightmares now so i think one piss-up on a saturday is allotted no? after a cleanse? i feel tons better today, we went to bed early ok where was i was about to say my part about benders.
how long is a bender? how long is a piece of string? depends who’s fuckin ‘cuttin it. BAAHAHA. i interpret this to mean, if you’re a good pisstank or not. i know i am. too good. which is why i got to cut it the fuck out.
shitty weather weekend. great weekend to get loungers though cos once it’s finally good and solid summer gold you will all be screwed. i am pumped to have a summer buddy this summer. a teacher, no work til september. i said he is going to have the best summer ever. summer bloggins. he’s going to be my bitch intern. ha kidding. well he sort of already is. he doesn’t know any of this yet.
lisa’s like, what are you an easter bunny gangster? yes. i am. we died laughing at that, i know it’s so fucking wussy. i’m all yeah what’s up gobble gobble, trick or treat muh-fuckers! the easter bunny has zero sayings. ps i am in an easter bunny movie, that hank and mike one. i am fat and brunette in it.
you’re not supposed to have people over and have them see burnt wicks so you have to go around lighting those candles, it’s rude if they see them, i guess it’s cos like, oh, you started without me or had other people here? in etiquette world you can’t cheat on your guests with other guests you have to make them feel special like at the spoke club when the dude shows up with his wife even though he was there the night prior with his mistress, you greet him like you didn’t see that to blow his cover to the wife.
stole a bag by mistake. whatever. these things are just annoying to use anyway i tied one of the loops into an impossbile knot it has all my cds contained like a big clusterfuck pile scatter in there i want to just pitch it in the garbage entirely.
can you tell i am in a desperate housewives competition yet? is there a liberty village show like this yet? ding ding ding! lisa and i were strolling in the rain for the second time to get brews and i gestured to the houses all perfect and said what my colleague said from a friend’s father about the perfect trees planted in the perfect front yard plots, that god had so totally meant and intended for these trees to be planted right HERE and there. we agreed that i totally fit in or am taken for one who does, total phony person implant meanwhile if they only knew. fools. ha ha.
i need a tea room before all these girlish things can be collected. i started creating a huge bouqet of their faux flowers but thought better. get the big pieces first. how many are wondering if i am moving in.
i am letting it play out on its own and not doing it stupid this time around. eventually it will reach a point where sexy decisions will have to be made. WILL HE GET THE GIRL BEFORE SHE BREAKS OUT. bitch why i always got the mad dramz like dat?
art piece idea to be stolen by ikea: motorhome a crew to ikea to get drunk then drunk shop and decorate motorhome’s interior. dueling teams for the better space. motorhome necessary so everyone can get blasted and not have to drive drunk, save for driver who does not get to be involved in decorating decisions because will be sober, but can be used for decorating. the team who is the most drunk with the best motorhome decor to make it back to toronto (from the etobicoke ikea) for some whatever ridiculous event wins. there i just wrote your entire campaign you can drag out for as long as you like.
uncurled it and it looked like a cassette tape. i wanted to walk out of there with one looong plastic band and then ultimately (hopefully) have the bottle clank off the table to the floor dragging behind me a la napoleon dynamite in the back of the bus but fucking LISA cut it off.
duck quesadillas. teacher doesn’t like eating duck, the idea of duck (totally against foie gras) i say whatever. it’s linked to royalty and we all know i wanna bone a knight super bad so bring on le canard.
sent this monstrosity back. grilled caesar. you can’t do high-end because when people go to the caddy they’re going there to slum it and i was not in the mood to saw through lettuce, plus they went too heavy on the anchovy. i was like they must read my blog cos i can detect every single component in this dressing, it’s my exact recipe. anyway, i would eat that meal anorexic style (copiously, like make it the only thing i ate, once, daily) but not saturday disaster style and then even then if i was in the mood for a high end salad like this, it would not be at the cadillac, it’d be at the royal york’s epic, or bar mercurio. in summation, verdict’s still out. there’s burnt cheese and two pieces of bacon but the bread is rock hard and confusing ok this is pedantic bitchy and boring lets move on.
working on how intense he looks in photos, he’ll look good and i’ll go to shoot him and then he does blue steel or gets fidgety. it’s cute but all wrong. see how the chairs are all stacked. totally last shoppers.
i am getting a lot of mileage out of that one blue thumbnail. i should go get that bottle and other shades there’s new nail polish colours out now finally.
i came out and said not so ugly am i now eh! as before we were catching some air and i had a towel on my head and no eyebrows or make up and it was a little bit scary fugly.
i am never running to brennen ever again. bad idea. dumb idea. but, i learned i love running. crazy people run. who runs? lets run! brennen runs by the lake he said in the mornings so maybe we will run together. i ran with my purse in one hand and a vitamin water in the other listening to tunes. i ran by a homeless guy holding a cup out i visualized grabbing it marathon styles and raining coins down on my head. where is zach galifianakis when you need him? oh and yesterday alicia bbm’d me abut this tweet and said to write this shit down already and do stand up. OK ALREADY FINE! don’t worry i corrected myself afterward. what’s a sower?
have no idea what he puts in it (kind of do?) but it’s soft as feathers every time all over again. he wants to give me a trim. not ready for that yet. next time.
sorry i am your most disgusting client. brennen loves trashy girls so, i’m pretty much fine. i was sweating and beet red when i got there (i ran from dufferin) and my hair was hilarious (pebbles cute with roots) and he goes you are SO trashy. haha what? he means it as a compliment. i think. i hope.
haha check holmeslice behind me all cashed out in the delivery area, totally. everyone was all stress licking on their ice creams while waiting in line i provided far-away narration for all the normies om nom nom om nom NOM! keep licking and you won’t explode in rage. i introduced the teacher to the cafeteria and to my friend, heineken aka drunk shopping. he was all whaaaaaaaaat? oh yeah oh YEAH. my brother and i preach drunk christmas shopping like no other. mad mall anxiety yo. i was speed walking through ikea and teacher was like please can we slow this down a notch. NOPE. i’m a sprinter. WE MUST WIN.
i had showroom hair. price is right hair. the meatball lady was scary and yelling, super intense, i had low blood sugar and was shaking, pretty weak. i haven’t been eating. i think i am a little bit insane right now. i RAN to my hair appointment yesterday, also of which was a work out day.
haahahahaha they were almost out of food i cannot even tell you the tornado of meltdown that would have occurred had we been on the other side of the cut off for food point. it was very concentration campy, hostile. i turned to teacher (whoops i almost typed his name) and natasha came up behind me and started barking at people about meatballs and gravy and fries and i JUMPED OUT OF MY SKIN and then we erupted in nervous laughter. nice first impression to the food area. once i asked for heinekens after thankfully spying the sign for beer she liked us more. we had everything on offer, full on bulimia/survivor reward challenge meal times. i was so shaky i couldn’t carry my tray without it shaking and teetering the beers. that and my mom hair outfit, quite the spectacle.
GIVE ME EVERYTHING AND PUT GRAVY ON EVERYTHING. i had medallions cauliflower cheese puke in sphere cube form, two of them, spinach crepes (ew) and the lingonberry meatball mess hall slop dream dish mmmmm.
look how much i am a lady when i’m done i put my cutlery down to tell the waiter, sir, i am done. even though there are no waiters here. i learned that from a feature on etiquette i saw once. i know it all. you should not ever touch your face once while at the table, hair, teeth, no mirrors. basically be a statue of perfection and grace. of course, no elbows either.
oh my god. no words ha. my brains feel like they got run over by a dump truck, we stayed up late on adrenaline and crazy and new house things glee. i feel like i was put through a magnificent bender. no wonder perfectionists are always on edge and insane, building perfection is grueling and tiring and stressful. but it MUST be done. why? i dunno, to die of a heart attack and high blood pressure. wicked cool.
i belong on the price is right. man has that show ever gone down the tubes why can’t they just kill it? it’s so painful. we got two of these loungers with blue/white navy striped cushions.
this part was scary. apparently teacher got in a fight with someone over cart maneuvering while i was scanning candles. a guy was all, you don’t know who i am. yipes.
i can’t believe we stayed up so late playing on this rug and of all the videos we made this is the one i decided to upload in the night. keira and i loved this jam, i dedicate it to her. ooh just got a strong vancouver hankering. le sigh.
this post is going to be a retarded mad scramble of retarded. buckle up. you will get a taste of what it was like being me yesterday with ma moms. i brought her to her first event, raymbo styles. we made it out alive. in the picture above i am cruising around 9/10 of bitchiness. we stayed at the keg a little too long. i am done with my yuppie crushing.
at le spoke club for the body shop duo new product launch. mom is a body shop slut, her beautiful young skin is proof so i definitely needed to get her in to this, was going to bring lois too but she couldn’t make it so i transferred her plus one to colleague’s name.
(if you want us to come cover your event fancy times email: alex at raymitheminx.com)
i started off on a bitchy note cos the tower is in a disarray and i had to get mom from ex go station and time it so she arrived a few minutes after my cab would meanwhile two long ass blog posts, no idea what to wear, gahhhhh. in the end i settled on a mime outfit with no underwear and a scarf for a coat, i knew i’d be sweating all over the place.
everyone was uber lovely to me yesterday. i love SO pr those dudes bankrolled my (and my entourage’s) ass for new years eve weekend in montreal. holla at your girl.
mom why do you post photos in this ridiculous order on facebook? do we have to look crazy in every avenue/outlet that there is? fine. more importantly, check me being checked out. i’m so shy, i see dudes coming eyeing me up from a mile away and my game is to look away at the exact moment where magic could happen, not that i was looking for it but all suits are the same to me after my keg experience i am over them. all married douchebags. yawn.
i sent shawn and his date to sharon jones and the dap kings last night at sound academy (did you get vvip?) even though i love sharon jones myself a lot, i’m just, spread so thin like marmalade, i can’t do it all. while at the keg i was like this is bullshit we could be at the roosevelt room dranking it for free but noooooo mom has to hold court at the keg lol. agh whatever you won’t stop being socially relevant if you miss an event or two or three or four. if you sell out all the way then your blog just becomes a snooze show off of bullshit. where’s the story? you must keep it real, keep some real.
these dudes (Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir) were so nice and pleasant. i walked away with my their medal on still. lots of people did. too funny. oh here you go, while passing my paper name card medal over haha.
love these. have tons now. we were so greased up (it’s not greasy it’s just, you put on too much at an event you don’t want it on your clothes) for the rest of the night and smelling great.
i bitched out an alpha female yuppie at the bar here (totally deserved it) twice. i had had enough. mom said toronto people are mean. no they’re not mean they’re just fucking assholes and everyone is a touch more mental come spring i think. this woman though, ugh, she’s a regular at astors and i wouldn’t mind having another showdown cos i am psycho like that. i am addicted to teaching people lessons.
my mom said the woman’s ass on the right, the difference between her ass and our ass is ours doesn’t fold/buckle like that when we walk. mean girl mom much?
kay see the woman at the bar there? after my mom and i’s bitchy walk over from the keg we sit down at this corner here and she’s all ooh oooh in this voice meaning, don’t fucking sit here, all passive aggressive like i’m going to sweetly chime in and say oops sorry i’ll move, you know in that voice that pressures someone else to give them what they want. raymi don’t play that. she was sitting closer to me when it happened and there was a dude, in her pack of friends that was sitting beside my mom, a row of four empty chairs none spoken for, so she didn’t like that these two cute blonds were separating her hoarding of space. i look at her and say I’M. NOT. MOVING. then turn back to my mom. alpha woman goes, ooooh, scary. you broke up a party. we ignore her, it’s NOT a big deal but she has some of the wind taken from her sail cos obviously nobody ever steps to this bitch prior to miss white showing up to throw down. so she moves away and her friend is grimacing at the awkward and kind of apologetic to us and i say you know, we just walked from the other side of town and all we want to do is sit. period. friend is down with that. THEN. twenty minutes later she comes back and i’m thinking cool an olive branch. not so much. she’s all, look, now (in teacher condescension voice) you don’t have to do this (oh really we don’t? you mean we have free will!?) but, this is ONLY a suggestion, there’s two chairs down the way over there (pointing to end of bar) now if you want to move over there you can… mom and i are looking at each other silently, poker face city…. we have more friends coming….she continues.
i let the lady finish her bullshit, draw in a breath then say,
YOU NEED TO RELAX. YOU ARE VERY CONTROLLING, YOUR FRIENDS CAN MOVE AROUND US WE ARE LEAVING IN HALF AN HOUR! NOW GO AWAY!
she was stunned fully into shutting the fuck up and beat it.
my mom went wooooooow. LOLOLOLLOLLOL! i had had e-fuckingnough by this point. my mom drove me bananas all goddamn day (love you!) and seriously we’re like basically at the go station we have very little time here and this fucking alpha beast is hassling us. twice. you do not own this corner of front street, you may be a bar fly wine slut regular and be important at your stupid company but you are not the boss of everyone in the real world so deal with it. my mom read that women are like this to other women all the time, controlling and competitive and they won’t stop and they don’t care which was fuel for me to rip it to her good. in another universe if she didn’t try a stunt like that we’d be networking and i’d have said something smart to her when she was talking stupidly about twitter (wrong) and given her my card and maybe kissed her ass to see if i could get a deal out of her.
then a guy in her party (not an actual party, they had a boardroom meeting. HUGE!) started flirting with me from across the bar and her eyes turned into little burnt out raisins of rage. he asked about the things floating in my drink, mom pinched me and i said in sing song alice in wonderland princess voice, oh it’s a razzmopolitan, it’s on the menu, it’s reeeeally good (making eye contact with alpha woman) he’s all nodding and she’s strangling her wine stem to stop herself from exploding. then i go, what’s your button? pointing to his green do-hicky flare, he’s all oh we’re green development or something, then some layman’s term crap i don’t listen to and i say yeah i get it, you give a shit. excuse me? he asks. you’re eth-i-cal. then we stop talking.
more passive aggressive awkward ignoring each other stares go down i’ll skip it but anyway when we leave i go mom, i am SO making a huge deal of giving her these chairs. mom’s like groaaaaaan. but also two dudes come in, so i’m like mom what’s a better burn, giving the chairs to the dudes or going up to her and making her look more stupid?
if this was choose your own adventure what option would you select?
how does it feel getting told off by this when you look and sound like a bird and then it blows up in your face? i really want to read her side of the story on her blog!
and so, your heroic idol walks up to her a little ways down the bar, as mom is collecting her mom things, i tap her on her right shoulder blazer, she turns, dude to her right, the one who was beside her when i ripped her the second time looks at me like, basically all of her friends were silently cheering me on. of course i was drunkish and did’nae give-a care by this point. when was the last time i got in a bar fight? too long! anyway so i say, YOU CAN HAVE THE CHAIRS NOW and she does this phony bow of worship like, oh, it’s “her” you know, like i am the asshole here (i totally am but she started it) and then i say, I SAVED IT FROM TWO MEN then hook my thumb over my shoulder and she skidaddles over to it.
ugh that exhausted me but what also exhausts me is that i got in a confrontation BEFOREHAND at the keg with this dude. hilarious. he’s the one who bailed on me last friday for a cab so i had to teach him a lesson sorry dude you’re being blogged. he’s an acquaintance i have no idea what his name is but he’s friends with my PBC people (parkdale boys club) and so i turn my back for three seconds and he’s gone, impatiently out of derek’s place in his own cab. selfish douchebag behaviour. i was waiting on the street in the scary junction alone at midnight, the gas station’s lights turned off in the ghost town desolate sketchiness surrounding me there, i am blond and hot and drunkish and nervous, total target. now i don’t care if he cares that he annoyed me, i didn’t want to bone him (likely part of why he was thinking i wanted a cab so hard, um no i wanted to get dropped off at my fucking house to grab shit and then go to adventurehouse party, it would not have been out of his way to do that) i just wanted to save time cos i know not many cabs would be out cruising on a lark like that, i normally call for one, derek’s building is retarded to navigate in and out of, basically i am a princess.
ok i’ll get to the showdown. i see him talking to a dude at the keg, two dudes actually. i wanted to stop myself but i couldn’t. champagne and whatever those drinks from the spoke club were coursing through me, a drug addict woman would not leave my mom and i alone at the bar, i needed to abuse something or someone. i didn’t even text derek back saying you’re welcome for the bottle of jamesons (i have class)(sometimes) cos i am mad at everyone and thing right now and i’m taking you all down with me ha ha. all i texted derek was tell your tall assholic friend thanks for bailing on me in the junction blablal blah he got that message, and so i walk up to him and say hi, he goes hiiii i say you know i’m really mad at you. he’s all whaaa? his friend is like woah slow up crazy woman basically i put my hand up and go no your friend here, is an asshole. do you do that to girls on a regular basis? (probably) well let me tell you, you’re NOT a gentleman and you are NOT a man. telling off a giant is kind of fucking hard but i did it. i made it super duper awkward (my specialty) and then drug addict chick comes up behind me and is all what’s going on/trying to have my back and shit and i’m like girl fuck off! (in my head) and tall guy has no idea what is going on so i have to continue blasticating him and then other dude is like ok ok let us buy you a drink and i’m all no i don’t WANT a drink i just want to teach him a lesson. ughhhhhhhh if that crackhead didn’t fucking sidle up to me this confrontation would have ended a lot cleaner and smoother and faster, but she hears free drink and goes in for one which mega-time pissed me off. i come from class honour pride i was probably married to a knight in another lifetime i will put myself through the dumbest of instances just to “win” or prove something. yes it’s like that. anyway he apologized, i brought him over to my mom, he said hi, then for the rest of the evening hung out on the patio because i ruined his night. i knew i would never see him again or have any contact and a real life message delivery will always trump a psychotic text message of rage. i just wanted a guy who clearly only looks out for himself to think twice next time and be a little more chivalrous. god i am so larry david it’s disgusting.
ps. i am still in the throws of “the confrontation” anger that i am making an angry face here and did not want this picture to happen. i am a child.
she was gonna crash but we didn’t have any booze she wanted lol. good to know. she was pumped and surprised about how close we are to the go train out here i suspect she might be making more visits now.
when i finally pulled these out to give them to her she so did not give a shit. i almost had a seizure. do you know how many times she has nagged begged pestered, tried to make deals with me for these things! unreal. unbelievable. it’s true, the kerouac women drive everybody around them absolutely insane. but they’re oh so lovable you just keep going back for more.
and then, as predicted, i was mistook for a keg employee (wearing all black) in the bathroom when i shoulder-checked a woman plowing into the bathroom right into me, i said oh whoops wow and she goes oh sorr…eeee in this tone like, KNOW YOUR PLACE, SERVANT. she’s lucky i had momentum and was already on my way out of there.
oh my my do straight jackets come in pink? my side pony learned me that my hair is uber long now. i think it made the teacher a little nutso when i came back, like, uh oh she IS blazing hot. what do i do? dude you don’t even know how hot i am with long hair it’s almost mean how hot i am.
i asked the dude to do a jump and if i had one more bev in me i’d have shown him the one figure skating move i know. there were too many glass tables and i did not want to pull a mary katherine gallagher.
yesterday at the burroughes building they held the launch of eye weekly’s new brand enterprise, the grid. it was exactly what i expected, booze-off central. D(ay)T(ime)D(runk). saddle up partner.
i love this building, when i get an invite to something here i know it’s going to be a gong show. i’m trying not to be a drunk anymore so i restricted myself. no hangover today despite the drink rounds we did, we shared. do you like how my blog is a guide to being a grandma socialite now? take teeny sips.
this is us leaving, a bit cocked. went there on empty stomachs knowing dinner would be going around on trays and i’d have to tackle some servers to get a base going.
my hair was fluffy. i forgot about this party, thought it was next week (i must introduce more organization into my life) i was sitting in the bath and teacher came home i’m like i forwarded you something, it’s on may 11 next week, he’s like that is TODAY. it was 4.30, we had an hour to get ready. fluff attack was the outcome.
some servers don’t like their photo being taken at events (this isn’t one) and i think it’s cos they take these jobs on as a side-gig and don’t want people to know. some get feisty, one dude rolled his eyes at me. hey brah if anyone should be rolling eyes it should be ME at YOU. servant. now give me another piece of salmon. the drink i am holding is one of sandy’s signature concoctions, she’s the first person i recognized there. girl can make drinks like holy shit, may as well be called black out punch. delicious.
crappy picture (my fault) but hi jen! running into people you know at these things is always funny, suspiciously, why are YOU here? uh dude, same reason you are. i am cool and notable. jen and i didn’t act like this to one another though, don’t make connections with my photos and captions. not always anyway. then i bumped into lucas by sandy’s station, same thing, why the fuck are you here and why didn’t you tell me? um i thought you’d be here? yeah right lucas. no one likes to share basically and i do recall mentioning this party on twitter and some other time at 4 in the morning when i brought everyone back to teachers to drink the house while i cooked. i was soberaoke that night oh yeah i go up to sandy yesterday and say CLEANSE IS OVER. she said but didn’t you do a shot when i saw you? no. passed it off to courtney. people who are trying to be sober and needing to hide it to not make a big deal of it, there are all these goofy little tricks to trick your friends into thinking you’re drinking too but if you need to do that to people then those probably aren’t the kind of friends you want.
this guy rolled his eyes at me but then i watched him (because he became my secret enemy after that, secret to him haha) and noticed his face was moving all over the place like maybe nervous ticks or i dunno. these are the details that keep this thing alive.
teacher has a nice face, he goes too modelly though, lisa said so. it’s like i am dating two people, glasses and no glasses guy, when i catch him with them off i often double-take, who is that?
now that i am getting skinnier and have become a smiler it appears that my dimple is expanding. wicked bonus. had to take breaks from the people sea to scope the view.
i have copious aloof stances to shield me from people staring at me anxiety, make zero contact and keep moving. OR if you stand still in the middle of the room, it looks like you are actually doing something. merely standing there is an activity, then you see people quickly start shuffling all around you like they need to get out of your way from all that busy standing you’re doing, vip-importantly. i am serious. people are funny. herd mentality is a laugh riot.
those boots make me look like i should be holding a trumpet. btw these boots are over now, i knew i would be pushing my luck in wearing them. i wore them because i thought they would help mask some of the loudness of my pants, and make me look more proportionate. my ankles get so skinny and in these tight acid wash jeans especially i look way too bell shaped, pear shaped? i basically have to be a skeleton like on survivor day 38 in order not to look hips don’t lie 24/7.
thanks for the dranks. (and the roots bags plus flask, it would be cool if one of the sig cocktails was in the flask, incredibly illegal)(with a note saying BLOG THIS AND DIE).
i think i became “famous” because i love being photographed and staging shots or happening upon some and giving it a try. my obsession in my own interests are is (who knows anymore) interesting.
every time i see her making a drank i laugh and remember stew saying oh right, the last time i had drinks at sandy’s i didn’t wake up til ten pm the next night. haha. that is some serious drinking and i know, i’ve been there. i was very depressed that night so don’t judge.
christ i look like my mom, my mom with her hair now (but better) but her younger intense shy strong face, no? the older i get the more i get checked out by older dudes like, dos equis man lookin’ mawfuckers that probably own islands and magnum speedboats. ahhhh. one day i’ll go to metro and i won’t come back ahahaa. teacher is gonna love that one.
speaking of, there he is with superdad. dude who bamboozled me in the globe&mail and changed my life. he even said his sister was asking about teacher. how soap opera-y. i told him to tell her that, in the beginning between us it was “complicated” but now we are giving this relationship thing a go, but keep it on the d/l. it’s less fucked up now but i am keeping it messy, defiantly. i am not prepared to give up my independence just yet, even though i am. it’s not complicated actually, it’s just none of your fucking business is what it is ha ha.
shulgan said my literary agent is getting all big time now i say whaaaat? why isn’t he lighting a fire under my ass then why do i have to learn to do things on my own hey? fucking call me bucci. lulz. i got bucci because of shulgan, bucci is his agent/friend too. i have plans to get that book done asap, so nevermind about it (you guys, blog readers) i feel a sign is coming my way very soon to tell me to get on it, yes i am talking cosmic-like, but more so, a wake up call. hopefully.
it’s interesting to see the same people i’ve seen for years at parties and events, i don’t remember any of their names (that was a lot of drinking) and they don’t recognize me, well they do but they can’t place it. so i’m in this vacuum of forever-awkward, do i approach them and say hi or not? i feel like a specimen sometimes. teacher scoped out all the people he said were looking at me, glad he didn’t tell me until we were on the couch. WHO? WHERE? HIM!? hahaha.
teacher had never been to something like this before. i think he was nervous. i was nervous but for other reasons, more so anxiety from heat, exhaustion, think i’m sick (or dying of cancer because i can’t stop coughing, i’m losing sleep over it) and floating in the tub daydreaming about survivor and how that was the only thing i had to do, was watch it. anyway so he’s like what should i wear? ugh i dunno you deal with that i have my own problems but then his became my problem because i realized this was our first outing together in raymiworld and people would be watching. i had to have a glass of white wine to relax. which is stupid when you’re on your way to a boozapalooza. i get anxiety, what can i say, once i get used to warm weather and um, life? i will be mellow yellow.
allergy attack. if i wasn’t a lazy ass SO BUSY yesterday i’d have been dropped off by my other bike (at casie’s) and biked it over to teacher’s THEN taken my other one to get the tires pumped up and THEN we’d have ridden bikes instead of cabbing it. so exhausting. that chore is a two people job.
i told you i was skinny yesterday. andrew put me through the ringer big time. we should have taken photos yesterday because monday’s shoot i was pms-bloated comparatively to this bone rack seen here. oh well.
during my blog speech i said i was paid thousands of dollars to get into shape the kids were like for serious! and knelt like wayne’s world (kidding)(to the kneeling, not the money) but yeah, you know how expensive a personal trainer is to begin with right? i truly am lucky.
first thing’s first i have to shut this door, my allergies are exploding. kids, when you get to my dusty old age you might be lucky enough to develop allergies like me. something to look forward to.
ok now this is going well… hmm. luckily once i start talking i don’t stop until i run out of breath so there was no need to pull up my blog, the real deal is standing right in front of you, maybe wait to check it out at home with your parents so they can hit the roof lol.
that’s me and mr. bates. he taught all of my dude friends and first bf, i’d mill about the nerd class-wasting gaggle around him back in the day in the halls. i knew this was a good teacher. he found me on facebook through all of our mutual friends and started reading my blog then i was like YOU are in luck, i’m an sss graduate.
do you like how i am dressed like a complete total slob? me too. i dash out to the car and go to my colleague, too much? holding the chain up meanwhile the entire joke is about my see-through shirt, hella appropes. i forgot to mention that the ratty bikini top i have been wearing for years will be aiding in some more product placements in the form of uber fashionista swimsuits this summer. i was too busy talking about how many times i was in the newspaper to add that.
i did a lot of teacher posturing. teachers lean on desks for absolutely no reason, it’s not comfortable, it has no purpose other than trying to look smarter and domineering. well, cool really.
this student was nice, she thanked me for coming afterward aww. i always made a point to come forward and thank speakers too. your peers have nothing for you, so always cling to guests like a barnacle, get their contact too and make a mentor out of them.
i took english media in this class with mr. i forgethisname but kinda looked like douglas coupland. my fascination for advertising and all things marketing came out of this rinky dink room. standing up delivering my sideshow act definitely brought me back.
right off the bat i listed a bunch of perks of my blog(thug)life, girls, got my hairs sponsored, my nails sponsored, yeah, this platinum is pricey, my purse, these shoes, spokesmodel for a personal training facility, paid to party etc etc. the one blond girl in the room was all ears after that. i liked her pants. i also compared blog world to hip hop world, there’s rivals and beefs, you keep your frenemies close. got a bunch of nods out of that. haha remember the family guy episode when brian comes in rapping about romeo and juliet pffft ahaha.
i wanted to be a teacher when i was a kid. i read to my stuffed animals and my name was mrs. clorenchio (i had a lot of italian teachers in elem school) oh man that was somehow fun for me?
ugh i cannot believe i went as john belushi to this. when i go back to speak to the grade ten biz class i will dress like a legal secretary. though i stayed true to what i am and do. i get to sleep in! they’re all like whaaaaa? yeah it’s true. it doesn’t mean i don’t bust my balls off though (right now for instance it is 8.30am and i’ve been up since 7, coughing, but i know i have a lot on my plate today so up i am) you get to schedule when you sleep and when you blog. it’s smart to try and follow the 9-5 mon-fri work week schedule though cos that’s when cubicle farms are open for business and lazy asses are procrastinating ie. facebook, raymi’s blog.
this kid taught me something just by asking a simple question in that innocent way only a teenager could, he goes, but, why do you care about haters? like at all? then everyone chimed in yeah why? (cos clearly i am awesome). excellent point dude.
my canned response was my typical go-to well, i am a defensive person by nature, people push my buttons for a reaction and everybody knows raymi reacts. but he’s right, they’re right. haters are nobodies getting in my way. thanks kids. however, it’s content and people like to see me get mad. i look hot when i’m mad (ex’s have purposely picked fights with me for this very reason, sick eh) and my intelligence climaxes and the zings come out. it’s unhealthy though and i don’t like it. negativity is cancerous. i explained that part of my recipe IS that i go there, i’ll go down to their level and throw a punch, some readers like that, while others like the fairytale fantasy of shopping and pictures of jewellery. there’s something for everyone.
i mentioned bullying a little bit, vaguely, but made comparisons to online bullying and being mean, highschool mean. one day somehow they’ll police all the internet trolls. losers who have been harassing people for years.
there’s no point in telling you what i spoke about (as i have barely any recollection of it, all original all the time haha) but mostly, if you want to hear my raymisms then i guess we’ll have to organize another speaking engagement or i dunno. there’s so much to do, so much in building an empire/brand.
only fat girls drink diet coke. paris hilton said that. epic bitch. hilar. i was speed talking when i first showed up after sitting in traffic and arriving late, mr. bates was like speaking of tea, would you like an iced one? oh hell yes i’d love one. they were out, so it was a coke. which i haven’t had in a very long time, i’ll drink diet if anything, which is where the p. hilton quote comes from, the teacher told me that yesterday when i told him how it went. i also told mr. bates i’m seeing a teacher right now so i know alll your teacher tricks, when you run out of lessons that’s when it’s movie day! mr. bates i want to read your blog too. one highlight was getting the key to the teacher’s bathroom, i asked a girl in the hall where it was and she’s all uhh i don’t know. me either. so i went into the staff room thinking it was right there, the door closes behind me and i see all their cups hanging up and their lounge and, in my head i’m all ding ding ding this is the plot of a judd apatow flick i am standing in. i got spooked out, didn’t want to have to talk to any other teachers so i left and used the student bathroom instead meanwhile i had the golden key to the golden john. funny. colleague used the boys in the tech hall. there’s no girls bathroom down that corridor because the school was built during sexist times, there’s no way girls would take auto or tech so they don’t need bathrooms. also something funny, mr. bates has no idea where the student washrooms are ahahaha.
busted into the library and found THE copy of on the road i used for my essay in grade 12, replete with all my notes, underlined passages, retarded emo quotes. i couldn’t believe it. i have referenced this book for years on my blog making going back to the library (and taking it) jokes, never assuming it would still be there. but it was! exactly ten years later too, i was 18 when i wrote that essay, it was the last month of school, mid-may and we had a month to work on it. spooooky kismet.
this floored me. this was my life right before i moved to brooklyn and i did not steal this book. one day some little beatnik-in-training may come upon it and be amazed. or severely irritated by all my markings. i like books to have histories, even those that don’t belong to me.
shh i am reminiscing. no i’m trying to find the page with the most markings, i found it when the librarian came up and looked over my shoulder and it was on THE MOST defaced page ever, then it was lost.
there were two copies of on the road. i had to cross-compare it to big sur, which is a piece of shit in comparison, i resorted to finding a kerouac fanatic in a chatroom to help me finish writing my essay. ha burn.
i’ve had dreams of this library. the school seems the same in size, not like it’s SO SMALL when you revisit a place. lockers are painted differently, there’s a remembrance photo of mr. stern (rip) by the drama class the only thing different is the students, THEY seem younger, which i am envious of and happy for i guess.
then we went to home hardware. this was my treasure of a job for five years (off and on) i made all my monies here. my parents were like fine if you want to go off to new york go ahead, but we’re not giving you any money. way ahead of you dudes, i’d take every paycheck, convert it into $USD and slip it between my mattresses. i am not a trust fund brat i told the students. true i do come from privilege like anybody else might but, i was determined and driven to make shit happen and if i had to do it on my own steed, then that is what i gotta do. i knew college/university would kill me, i needed to let my free spirit be and get outta dodge. i’d sit on these cement parking spot blocks smoking cigs and stare out at the bleak gray joyless shit hole mississauga nothingness and decided yeah, i am moving far away from here. more than half of my success is chalked up to spite. ha i’ll show them, and so i did.
i had many customer fans too, i was the mouthy one who entertained and delighted and pissed off everyone. how i never got fired, phewf. the owners, my bosses, are italian, very family oldschool, so there was no way i was getting kicked out.
staring fondly down the automotive section. one time after the metallica concert i went to when i was 15 and blew my ears out in the mosh pit, i was sorting junk down this aisle on order day and paul was like LAUREN YO HELLO talking to me then frustratedly comes up right beside me, still don’t hear him then finally i sense his presence and absentmindedly look up all confused, WHAT?! he just laughed, walked away, and i called after him WHAT!? WHAT DID YOU SAY I CAN’T HEAR ANYTHING as the swan song of the last decibel of that high pitched frequency rang out in mine ears (ear plugs dudes, use ‘em wisely).
i could tell you every single thing you do not need to know about every single product home hardware carries. i am proud to be a home hardware champ, they’re independent and canadian. i can’t tell you how many fights i’ve had with dickheads coming in and flipping out over some part we don’t have, well home depot has it, yeah well, fucking go there then. or if something was 40 cents more at h.h. they’d say rona had it cheaper. oh really? well then we know what to do, waste gas on saving forty cents brah. dude’d come back an hour later and buy the part cos rona wouldn’t have it. burn. streetsville “is the village in the city” and having an independent hardware store is essential for that nostalgic vibe. i said i’d blog about them one day, the soap opera of the hardware store, or in a book. i remember everything so there’s no rush. we had a guy with a lobotomy who would come in daily, for an hour, combing every aisle, with no recollection of having been there the day prior. a woman came in once to tell us about him. we’d all flee when he’d come in, only because he’s a talker and you’d get stuck for 20 minutes while he droned on. some days i wouldn’t avoid him. there was never a shortage of crazy (clientele) at hh.
