get out of bed around 11 or so. make coffee for everyone. wake n bake. start drinking about 1. diet cran oj vodkas. girl weekend. early to bed on friday. i guess i am an old lady by now, in to bed early with me. britt made many comments about it. raymi the pussy.
kinda dr. seussy. which is my tree decorating style this year apparently. stoner decorating is hilarious. you get super anal about certain garland tinsel ornament placements. after seeing britt’s tree though, wow, that is what real anal is about. we were so wound up from coffee driving life i dunno we did all her dishes together when back to the city like psychotic robots. she goes monica. it’s my favourite. i am all about control right now, the more i have over things, my environment, tasks completed, structure, order, routine, ahhhhhh like a steam valve releases in your mind.
watched 15 episodes of 30 rock yesterday. i identify with liz lemon far too much i was inwardly cringing at native richard gere’s when he’d laugh at all her gaffs, nerdy sayings, foibles.
not embarrassed but, i don’t feel the need to lay claim to another’s character and project it on to myself. i don’t need you to see me in a certain way to feel better or more interesting. you will find these things out on your own time.
he called me a charlatan. before that, a fraud. i hide. i am gamey he meant, always playing games. i have a mask. i can go between raymi and lauren. people always need to analyze me and tell me their findings like they’re personality detectives and they have outwitted my personality, or, personalities.
i look gruesome dark and kinda edie trainwreck skeleton here and bonus i am pointing to a now-defunct empire. was eaton’s an empire? i think so. i heard tommy hilfiger stormed eaton’s when they went under (what happened there again?) to snatch up his merchandise so people couldn’t purchase it at insanely discounted prices. is that evil? i wore a pea jacket of his for awhile that was my mother’s and this hippie chick i used to sleep with said he was an evil man and i should cover up the hilfiger modest centimeter square-sized flag logo. i considered it. it was at around the time i was heavily into media advertising in high school and i had adopted an adbuster’s idealism, non-conformist epithet. but really, it’s cos i was a cheapskate and broke most of the time. eventually you get older and you crave quality goods, they are a comfort and they represent comfortable living, achievement. status. suffice it to say i did not tear the tommy flag off my jacket. one of my bike’s is an eaton’s too. leant it to casie.
my dad was so happy about the tree and not having to decorate it himself, or period. he went over to bob’s to party for a bit and beam about his daughter and her friend britt. bob drove by and saw jersey plates in dad’s drive and then the burlington times hotline was ablaze. he said is snooki over?? raymi’s big news over there heheh i am a thing of lore now like braveheart whatever his name is they’re all AND HE IS 10 FEET TALL AND HAS SWORDS FOR FINGERS AND SLAYED MANY BEASTS!
i look like my grade two christmas pageant angel costume. seriously. cheapestly constructed outfit ever compared to all the portuguese kids and the italians i was like lisa simpson in a homer-made thing except the neighbourhood seamstress did it. you’d think chicks who could sew would know style. nope.
recipe: three different kinds of cereal – kashi clusters, some bran high fibre thing and a sprinkle of just right (flakes) add three mini cups of to-go lunch bag yogurts, and a lot of blueberries.
today james called me a diva a billion times. i get really angry and collapse in laughter out of frustration from not being able to stick up for myself cos he does it right before he tells me to begin a set of something, the plank or lifts. he says i should get a shirt that says defensive on it. i don’t deny it. he doesn’t understand why i get defensive though about being called a diva because i yell out fuck you i work VERY hard and he says he knows that i do but i’m also a diva. i didn’t know you could be both, thought you had to be one or the other. he goes wow, you learned something, monday december 13, 10.30am… SUCH A SMART ASS!
anyway i feel amazing after today’s session. i hit the elliptical for 5 intense maniac minutes afterward. i learned that a picture of me is going on the new flyers. hahahamazing. james says if it works out i’ll be their spokesmodel. i said yeah sure it would be an honour (it would) but also no problem f that i’m going to be in playboy too so never you mind worrying about me not getting fit. i am obsessed and driven. you guys can go check out the motion room for free you know, see how you like it. they’ll give you a session and they won’t intimidate you into feeling on the spot to sign up right away. it’s just as much as a gym if you do the math but you actually see results, it’s a tough work out that challenges you and helps with focus. i am way happier since i joined. i look forward to it too. there are so many benefits.
i am blown away by the cereal i have and leave and forget at my dad’s. my diet there consists of malbec cereal lots of coffee and supermarket sushi and salads. clockwork.
raspberry strawberry apple flavoured optivia (what weird word am i thinking of) yogurt. flavour pow. love kashi. used to go to stewart’s all the time after a late central shift to smoke pot and inhale kashi til 6am. crazy summer eh guy?
time stops when i hang out with britt. she is as neurotic as i am. beautifully whole-heartedly neurotic and actually a very charming, caring, selfless person. i am in awe of her. when we first met i think we somewhat hated each other? or at least were dubious. it was work. she thought i was cool apparently.
the pinnacle was at the horseshoe tavern (for the 60th anniversary party) and i called her a bitch because i was giving her a business card of mine and she said oh i already saw it in the bathroom (in this tone) so i snatched it out of her hand and said you don’t have to be a bitch and that was the first moment i recognized a glint of self awareness in her in regards to me as before i felt like we had been having this unspoken sparring between us. someone finally cared if i called them a bitch. in our clique of friends at the time i never really knew how i was perceived or thought about so anyway here is this girl two years my junior with her own identity now in my sphere, what to do?
this happened to me many times too but anyway, i knew i could then like her after that. then i went up to tyler stewart of the barenaked ladies and somehow impressed him with whatever bullshit material and then wendi went up and i was like oh fuck, she’s undoing all my hard work and i go to her did you just blow it? and she goes yeah, i blew it. then we howled wit laughter and drunk cackled profusely to one another and in the end dear wendi, did not blow it as tyler and i are very good friends now.
in the industry, the music industry of toronto, there is a scene that many of you likely would never consider or know even existed and while i am a part of many scenes, my true scene i feel, is this music crowd subset of folk. the people behind the bands who make all that shit happen, the events, parties, swag, drinking, festivals, you name it, serious industry players. how i came to know them is pretty unique too.
wendi (working for SONY at the time) emailed me one day. she had been secretly reading my blog for three years then finally got the nerve to write and she invited me to this thing called N X N E ? uh ok i look over my shoulder at fil and say hey have you heard about this thing called the north by north east music festival what the fuck is that and do you want to go to some opening gala at steamwhistle brewery apparently lots of important music people will be there?
he was at his own computer station and he kind of fucking blew his load. so we went and we brought pitt. we networked like crazy and met a lot of people all in the same night and bonded forces and wendi really linked us all but it wasn’t until the NOW party at the courthouse did i first meet britt and it was an amazing fucking time. all of these events are documented on my blog in the archives and my blog sort of became the insider industry morning after news daily for all these guys, i went to a show almost every night of the week for three years. it was crazy. ok moving on.
rob was mad at me the other nite for making him wait so long for me at mitzi’s. lacquering my nails to perfection was partially the reason why i was tardy. we had a fun nite a late nite then derek came by and fell in love with me his eyes twinkled with sentimental scottish glee when i revealed i was old fashioned and wanted a kitchen and a baby.
my hair in that furry hat of mine and the blond hair. derek kept murmuring in his scottish lilt, and your blond haaaaair… trailing off. wanted to take me to the game in buffalo tomorrow. i’m too much a princess for ice cold tailgate parties so far from home. next time maybe.
i say in fashion there is always one wild card. in this case it’s the blue socks that thwart the outfit into tim burton territory. curly haired fuck picked them out for me. the dyke shoes are jen’s from central, she gave them to me.
xiaxue has the same one i think. the ruffled sleeve is still really in. my black shirt like it from UO that was sold as a dress i chose from the website and a guy in colorado bought it for me along with other things. it was before it really came into fashion. i just knew that baby doll is a smart move, also at the time the telephone lady gaga video was big, and she would wear big sleeves. yes yes yes.
i asked the new piece of fish if his daughter would like me. he said she loves princesses. i said man she is in luck. she knows that princesses have to work very hard. truth.
someone told me recently that i am a princess. with disdain. i told britt and she said so what if you are? yeah well fine ok i come from a good home, upper middle class, whatever. that doesn’t make me a princess though. i work super hard. just as hard as the person who accused me of this princess-stature. i force myself through sadness and stress. i’ve adopted a work ethic inspired by clem. when i get depressed i just work harder. throw myself into work. i just keep going. my new piece of fish (sorting out a nickname) native richard gere, there. he says his new thing is to work less and make more money. i’ll be doing that too. i overheard britt on the phone with her mom say she has a passion for making money. she was talking about stocks. groupon was already bought by google so it’s too late to get in on that right? she said she heard a tip on silver and pot ash, the guy made a lot of money when silver sky rocketed.
my mom was getting on my nerves yesterday and i was telling her just start a twitter, take charge of your life. make the changes. just do it. act. i do not suffer defeatists gladly, i outright oppose them. princess i am not. i spread myself so thin i’m the anorexia of frivolous behaviour. i resent being called a princess even though it’s what i aspire to be and cavort around as. ps. my dad drank the big beer that came with this double pint i bought him for his birthday.
working from the dining room now. i like it. in my grandfather’s chair. britt asked me how i would feel if my dad had a girlfriend and if she moved in. i said i don’t care i’m too old to be donig this shit anyway but look at me, i’m his fucking angel like it matters hahaha.
making up for lost time. i’ve never spent so much time with my family before. last nite britt got cosmic and said you know we’re only in our twenties so long so why waste time being negative and bickering with friends then my dad launched into a lecture about him in his twenties. he had my brother at 21, me at 23. can you believe it? britt likes coming here cos it feels like home and she misses her family and here it’s like, immediately comforting and fun plus my dad is a beatle fanatic and so is she.
britt says twenty years from now our parents will be sick and we won’t be able to do this anymore so i guess i gotta split time is a wasting. we’ve been playing music, dancing and guitaring in separate rooms, costume makeup changes, dad is jamming out, about ti tackle the tree and some screwdrivers. yes life. happy.
we’re going to trim the tree. then britt wants to play home maker some more i dunno, shopping? seems about right. we told ghost stories in bed last nite and then got spooked like teenagers i am a total wimp. britt said she heard a woman laughing or crying. my dad saw hoodlums huck a rock into the bus shelter down the street and it exploded into glass. all still there. cool move burlington. we ate an apple pie at like 11 and watched a special on pbs too the ed sullivan rock and roll video thing. so nostalgic. why is pbs always begging for money? paul schaffer needs to stop being paul schaffer though i kind of relate, appreciate, and accept it. loved the animals footage and the herman and the hermits kid. he was 15 during that performance, what a ham. awesome.
this isn’t the sullivan performance but it’s still impressive. the british are so advanced and pristine. pip pip!
hi guys it’s time for an I AM DOING $!!T SO YOU DON’T HAVE TO blog post and today’s activity is one of my weekly training sessions at The Motion Room. can you believe i get my ass handed to me three times a week? did you know that i am actually more of an animal go-getter than you thought and now i am stronger than you to boot? you must feel really out of shape right now. it’s ok i do too. i think as i get older i am turning into a bloated pillhead (even though i don’t take pills) like how beverly d’angelo’s turned out except premature. if i miss a couple sessions my lifestyle totally lets me pay for it. insert three nights in new orleans missing my friday and monday sessions and also monday of the same week from being deathly sick and now my arms are super chunky.
anyway i was really happy to get back in here. i have a new goal in mind to be fit as a fiddle for NYE with a sprinkling of playboy on top for good measure. snap magazine came by to shoot the motion room and used me as a model. they have no idea who i am either. i jokingly said NO FAT ONES OR I’M NOT SIGNING ANYTHING and the guy took a step back and kept directing us how to work out. it was funny. it was also funny wearing those shorts and socks and i wonder if he was hoping to not have my tattoos shown. can’t wait to see it haha.
there is no way i could knee him in the face by this point lifting my knees is a chore and i’m doing it as fast as i can. the guy behind me has been training for years. he’s doing the dog walk or baby crawl it’s tough. try doing that back and forth 3 times.
joseph stepped in and made me do lunges. trainers are perfectionists. just as you are doing the move and wincing through the pain they tell you to re-align your feet then your posture is crap. it’s a constant mind ^#&^. i wonder if it’s an intentional distraction meant to help your focus constantly shift alleviating stress and intimidation from the task. i think i am giving james too much credit hahaha.
sometimes i show off my form and pretend that i am not. in my head i’m look who is this graceful statue of perfection? what delicate and casual rhythmic isolations. oh yes ten years of dance has paid off oh what’s that? good form? hmm, barely even noticed. you’re not the only ones who get to mind ^&$%# around here.
today’s (these are wednesday’s) session as i was lifting the ball over my head on the astroturf lying down and totally wavering, james was trying to motivate me and he achieves this with little quips like THIS IS NOT YOUR BLOG. ahahahaahaha then i die laughing and almost brain myself with a ten pound medicine ball.
maybe once i am super duper DUPER insanely fit i’ll make a raymi exercise video for lazy at home bloggers. NEXT UP IS HE SOCIAL MEDIA STRETCH! i’ll strike it rich from inventing a form of push up that doesn’t make your carpal tunnel flare up.
squats and ball raises. back that ass up. bend with the ass, sit, not with the knees. don’t forget your abs too. SO MUCH TO THINK ABOUT. don’t worry though james will remind you. trust me.
today i sweated so much all the make up came off my face in two places only, the moon beam part beneath each eye. perfect for my eastern euro purple skin right there i looked like i got punched out after a serious vodka bender.
i know i am horrible at them but i do want to get better because i know then i will get ripped. it’s simple. if you can’t do something, learn to do it.
there’s astro on my shorts. that’s the plank. it has destroyed my abs since wednesday and reappeared today to delight my pain receptors yet again. i feel torn. that’s a good thing. torn = progress.
oh my god my beastly arms. can i get an arm liposuction sponsorship? i’m serious. then i’ll pull a legally blond and go on an exercise before/after tour. LOOK AT THE AMAZING RESULTS! i have cankles. ON MY ARMS.
finishes you off with an amazing stretch out. people like athletes get this royal treatment or in luxury spas post-massage. incredible. some people actually black out from it too cos they’re not used to the motion of stretching. that’s hilarious to me how out of shape and incredibly lazy does one have to be to not handle someone stretching for you and then you pass out? you’re already on the ground DOING NOTHING! you go limp and james does all the work and it feels fantastic.
i asked him if we were going to do the the tractor where i launch him up into the air and boost kick him. we used to do that all the time on the hill as stupid kids. amazed none of us got broken necks. pretty close some days though bahahaha meanwhile everyone is busting up laughing on the sidelines as you fly through the air. you time it so they don’t know when the launch comes. i said i bet i could do it to james. i know he’d fight it though. we’re the same age if you can believe it.
i gave her kudos at the end there because i am all about positive reinforcement. she thanked me later by telling me to MOVE out of her way so she could ass shake some more. no problem! this was going on in pretty much every single bar along bourbon street. or versions of it. pure bliss. chicks would randomly get up here and out dance one another i almost did it but was too busy thinking about karaoke plus i wasn’t hosed enough and yes that MC is in fact a total dink. the band was rolling their eyes big time. a lot of people on bourbon seem to be forced to be tacky and zany, totally exploited. after this we went to the sex club. we saw no sex but the chain smoking preggo stripper made a lot of money. how enterprising.
que pourrait-il être? how good is your french? something tells me i’m gonna have to bone up on mine very soon. que pourrait-il être ? is français for what could it be? see american buddies, raymi’s got your back.
i’ve heard of this mobile before, the INQ Chat 3G it’s the hot social media gadget of the cool kid set, my junior counterparts. their demo aligns with the vice crowd, which’ll come in handy for the latest event this low-budg paris hilton blogger shall be beaking off about right up to New Year’s Eve. i almost fainted and fell down some imaginary stairs in my head when i heard the news.
thousand dollar shopping spree at Style Exchange! ok i am going to puncture these statements with flaming exclamation points now and maybe a penis emoticon or two. 8=====3—
breakfast, lunch, and dinner taken care of. oh right i forgot: !!! ! high-end places too not talking no restaurant chains, high roller royalty shit we all know i have much experience with.
the main event though, will be taking place at a massive night club, replete with our OWN reserved VIP bottle service section. ok i’m not doing the exclamation thing anymore it’s too hokey.
line-skipping for…. all the contest winners! yep. you have a chance to get in on all this too. just hit the CONTEST TAB on the INQ facebook page and 1. be of legal drinking age 2. be canadian 3. show us your most wild photo. who, in this day and age, doesn’t already have gobs of wild and seedy photos stored on their hard drive? simple. get on it kids it’s NYE taken care of, how stress-relieving in the most ballingest way ever.
your prize also includes this phone (free) plus three months of FREE service with koodo. (it also comes in pink!)(for pink i will shout out loud because i am a a secret fruitcake).
so now my profile is raised so much so i get to live out my paris hilton fantasy dream life for a weekend. i don’t have to pay one dollar. i’m going to film it and exploit the ever loving $&#& out of the whole spectacle. clubs are open til 4am there too. the location is TBD but i hear it’s going to be one of the major ones. i don’t know much about the party scene in montreal so your guess is as good as mine as per which club.
i’ve already chosen my entourage and i’m sharing the shopping spree with them so we all have nice outfits because i am the mother theresa of perks and selflessness.
and along with this new year’s eve party of the decade taken care of for you, you get a free phone for three months. you keep the phone AND they pay for your service. when i opened the box, i just dialed my own number and straight away learned the raymi date line # from call display. it’s like some bizarre dream where they’re like and then you get this, and that, and this, oh don’t forget THAT but there’s MORE too just keeps getting better. i’m told there’s more surprises on the horizon too. if it’s some ridiculous celebrity partying with us i will die.
so i’m taking melucas (that’s two people) and stewart. we all get phones so you can follow the entire jet set spree unfold over the wires. our hotel suite is going to look like the morning after in the movie the hangover. pumped.
any other questions you have regarding all things THIS AMAZING CONTEST feel free to drop in the comments otherwise, the power is in your hands to get’er done.
and if you get the pink phone i will trade you. though i do really love red too. i was going to invite sjm to film it all but i didn’t want to use up one of my spots i’ll just borrow a video camera somehow. they might have professionals and speaking of, the venue is going to be decked out by pros as well. i better be on my best behaviour. at 1am it’s a free-for-all i’m off the clock by that time i’ll be swinging on a trapeze no doubt.
what ridiculous thing should i get funky touque to do to my hair? i already did marie antoinette. hmm depends on the outfit. maybe a huge barbarella braid big bombshell hair but then i’d want a sexy furry ewok type number and i doubt style exchange carries those.
i wandered on downstairs in the half buff a little stressed out about this post, as all things laptop were not good in the hood at the time. i knew i’d sort it out. i’m kind of a workaholic. kind of a sloth but the workaholism makes it so i can be sloth-like. i know casie is the same. work super hard, play even harder and vise versa. my mind is constantly chugging about the deals, jobs, the whatever you as a blogger call the things you do. my friend was complaining about some hilarious deviant thing that had befallen him in vegas last week, then i complained about my (life is so hard easy) little stresses and he basically was like fuck you i want your life. i am constantly reminded of sean ward’s song i was made for this (essentially paid to party). i fucking love it, couldn’t be more apt. i have a penchant for white guy rappers, my brooklyn ex bf is one. more so beastie boys style. one of his friend’s was in kindergarden with ad rock too. oh man i got older guy glory days stories for miles, summa my own too. raymi is an original vice kid too you know. that was my scene when i was 18. i should have walked around with a camera more often then. but i digress.
suffice it to say, i. am. stoked. this is going to be a dream NYE for once. i earned and deserve it as last year my new year’s eve was a vomitous nightmare. read the post if you have the stomach for it. if anyone gets me sick this holiday i will break their legs.
been sitting on this news for a little while now. sorry i look all rumpled here i was doing some serious musing. my hair was kinda dry, no products with me. i am addicted to unite (they have it at my salon, i highly endorse it).
up for another random photo dump? when events pass the way you’d divulge them changes. you can spill more with more time put between you and that thing.
a date. i don’t remember his name. i don’t know if he reads this. i don’t remember where i was going to after this or the lie i told to cover it up or who i was off to see even. it’s been a frenzy. a frenetic date machine malfunction.
i know it wouldn’t work out. we pretended maybe it could for an hour and a half. he paid. he tried to call me a few times i’d just reply by text saying i was busy (i was) and i don’t talk on the phone (i don’t)(but if i do it’s something special).
he is severely intelligent. a would-be passionate lover. but he has an accent. i told him i am not attracted to accents, only a specific tiny circle of accents will i allow myself to be drawn to. they must be drunken and unintelligible.
i just couldn’t get over the accent i am so jerry seinfeld. i knew immediately when we accidentally passed each other downstairs by the bathrooms. it was really cold outside too, the restaurant was dark, candlelit. our weird energy was vibing out everyone in the room. i don’t normally do dates at to be-seen type establishments. a place i’d likely review. too many lookers in this town. curious eyes. or i am just hyper-sensitive and shy and i think like the entire world knows i am on a date and they know the deep shame i feel that i am pretending my way through it.
apparently this was to be their last toronto show in a while. i could be at bss tonight at the sound academy but i am favouring being a shut-in too much.
after wolf parade we went to this party at the legion on niagara. a guy screamed out camel toe at me. i walked over to him, and by this point i had just about enough of peanut gallery commentary and opinions from every direction in life (internet, everyone, everywhere, non-stop!) so i walked over to the drunk guy sitting in a chair with his back to me. i bent down so my face was in his face. his friend is waving his arms across his chest back and forth like a runway navigator and apologizing profusely. i was alone standing awkwardly in this empty room, after making the dance party happen with melodie spreading cheer and glee and making it fun for the last twenty minutes and then some guy screams out CAMELTOE at me. if he’s man enough to do something like that then he’s man enough to own up to it no matter how much his friend is trying to backpedal for him.
i said excuse me did you have something to say to me? he garbles some wasted nonsense so i lean in a little closer and raise my voice a little and say because i have something to say to you (i’m getting goosebumps right now as i type this i fucking hate confrontations but sometimes if you’re loaded enough and someone thinks they can go all lower east side on you then you gotta fucking let them have it) it’s not that this (gesturing to my crotch with both hands in that WWF v-placement) is a camel toe, because its not, then i spread the material of my onesie to demonstrate that the material isn’t even touching my privates, and as we’re all now staring, down, at me, the person in the huge wizard of oz gatekeeper hat, legs spread wide in this guy’s face, i say, because THIS is not a cameltoe, it is where i am fucking SPLIT up the middle you fucking ASSHOLE now is that ok with you?
stunned silence. if someone is going to be crass to me then i am definitely going to be vulgar right back. i said this before, with me, you are never taking me lying down. ever. i’m from falconer, guy.
the promoter chick comes over at this juncture in time and says to the drunk guy, what’s this chick beaking off at you for about? AS IF! i look up at her and say this has NOTHING to do with you meanwhile melodie goes yeah what does it matter to you? she immediately is siding with this drunken piece of shit at her failure of a promoted party like she’s going to fuck him and threatened by me. wrong move girl. also, girl on girl crime too.
she seriously took that street tone of voice too like she was “backing” her crew. the moment ends, that circle of people move toward the door, melodie is asking me what happened, i’m telling it then the guy who called me camel toe screams at me from across the room a whole bunch of shit starting it up all over again, saying it’s not russia (my hat) and calling me a stupid bitch. the girl is smirking and waving sorry sorry and shrugging he’s an idiot. so i say yeah, and so are you.
melucas are off in la la talking land i’m left to own big mouth devices again. the circle by the door opens up, a clearing is made for this diva now, hands on her hips, now, what did this bitch say to me??? so i start marching on over whipping my head over my shoulder with a finger at melodie and hissing COME HERE MELODIE IT’S ONNNNN. ahahhaha.
she didn’t come so i had to keep going right up to this crowd of people all intent to bully me. i was just loaded enough to have the nerve for it. i said excuse me what is your name i want your contact information. by this time i’ve learned she’s in charge of this event, helped promote it (terribly) and its come to my attention that maybe you shouldn’t step on the toes of others in the city if you’re in PR and one of those toes is attached to the author of the largest-read blog in the same city.
i did absolutely nothing wrong, i enjoyed my night, i took care of my own. why does this happen all the fucking time? yeah i could let things go, and i so do, but after awhile there’s just some things that you cannot let go. i was trying to help that idiot know that it’s not ok to yell camel toe at last call at a girl and it’s not ok to tag team her when she justifiedly sticks up for herself about it.
and while i was trying to let that girl know she was in the wrong just a little but whatever it’s ok the friend who was initially apologizing to me about the camel toe idiot had decided that i was now a, and i quote “disgusting fucking bitch”. amazing.
