Been a long-time reader of your blog-o-saga, and have to mouth off and say that this year has been the most amazing, basically because it hits home. I’ve had a parallel experience similar to what you’re going through now, but this is coming from the other side: I’m the guy in the equation.
Catherine and I were in love – the perfect couple. Passionate, common likes/hates, popular, and so verrry comfortable with our situation.
Till she told me out of the blue that things weren’t working, that there was too much she wanted to do with her life that didn’t include me. She wasn’t living enough for herself. The last thing she said to me was “Please, give me five years”. And she was out the door.
I won’t rag on about how I coped – this isn’t about me.
I didn’t see her again; even coincidentally, we didn’t cross paths. But, through friends and acquaintances, I heard she disappeared and decompressed for a while, traveled, broke her ass getting a degree, did all kinds of work, exorcised a few demons, and in the process, became a better and happier person. I knew this wouldn’t have happened if we stayed a static couple.
Since the cut between us was clean, my head assploded when I picked up the phone 5 years later, and heard her voice. Apropos the situation, we made chitchat for a bit. Most of what I had heard about her odyssey was true, I mumbled a bit about myself. Then, she asked the inevitable: “Want to get together today?”
Sigh, hem-haw, erm, (heart sinks), “No”.
Why? Because if we got back together, even for a day, I could never survive saying goodbye to her again.
And I’m too proud of Catherine to lay that shit on her.
I see you, Raymi, like I saw her, and I hear her when you have to lower yourself to defend your actions.
Go for it! Just be you, because you’re doing it right.
i am mary magdalene. wait, she was a hooker right? well based on everyone’s impression of the brief drake lounge chat-up i had sunday night and that guy thinking i was an escort and all…ha ha. i wish i could go back in time and change my response to eat shit and face meet bar top.
i was a bit nervous then a bit narcoleptic (almost!) on the back of this thing, knew it would cure my hangover a little. you just have to turn your head off while on it.
cheeeeesy and cool. ginger i think is secretly working on a side website project of chicks on his bike pics cos he always makes me do one last pose on or near the bike. as if i don’t acquiesce.
this guy is from france, from the 60’s maybe? it is gorgeous. i shaved some parm then grated some with the mouli grater. made an arugula prosciutto olive/bals pepper tomato greens salad and polished off a bottle of rose with dad and shot the shit. now i have a date with mom and doctor appointment i am so tiiiired. my hair looks like garth algar’s right now and yesterday i looked like michelle fucking tanner with my rainbow pink argyle socks and red gallaz (chick division of globe sneakers. i want a shoe sponsor!) next time i come out here i’m bringing my longboard then i’ll get skeletal for sure. and 13 year old boyfriends.
i just listened to this song 20 times in a row. be like me.
i’m uploading infinity photos from wakestock right now just so’s you know. it may take awhile. WILL take awhile.
last nite was a nice little shit show. people were dancing on each other’s shoulders like it was wasaga fucking beach. insane dance party and the dj played 800000 songs. he was able to do this because he only played 20 seconds of each song. it got a bit annoying but then you’re like oh yeah my attention span right now is that of a fruitfly’s so no big deal. i wore malcolm x reading glasses and no one recognized me. awesome. in the lounge waiting for trish i said hi to one guy and he was like ??? i’m like dude i slept at your house! perfect. whole new girl. a euro old guy wedged himself close to me like some cliche hotel pickup gallery (which essentially it is) and i’m trying to eat my carpaccio and get my champagne on solo. he asks if i’m in business (i’m wearing toga dress, not my typical crushed sundays attire, ie. i look pretty) i’m all um, yeah, are you? aren’t we all? and give him a look. he says yes he’s in business. then silence. eventually he got the please fuck off point. just cos a woman is alone at a bar doesn’t mean she wants to be approached. or spoken to. only if you’re good looking. like i’m already in the very corner of the bar at the bar stop hovering all up on me i can’t breathe thinking about the claustrophobia.
and to clarify my meanness to guy at bar cruising me, if i wanted dinner company i’d have invited one of my 456589 boyfriends. if im there solo it means i want to eat alone. im paying to be alone. now, leave me alone unless i eyeball you over.
i still have 50 in my wallet i think i went out with 130. 50 is better than zero.
sort of picked up a 22 year old hilfiger model. he asks how old i am. i hate this game. they always say 23/24 to be safe. 27 i answer. dunno if it helps or hurts me, wasn’t interested all that much and also had to ask if he was gay or straight so i think we’re even in the rude questions department? don’t care. just another sunday.
was going to bring camera out but didn’t feel like being responsible. kinda wish i did now so many good photo opps. happy birthday anton!
halp my brainz and now i get to loser walk to my bike that i totally could’ve ridden last nite but trish said no. probably wise. so loser walk to bike then grab in the market cos i’m all out of stock. this feels like old times. i feel equal parts could eat a house right now and could die in the gutter. fantastic in other news. curly haired fuck gets back tonite from panama. i think i might join another dating site. i passively joined eharmony but you have to pay to see photos so that was a massive waste of time. i am not going to pay for a boyfriend. i am not that hard up. clem said if he doesn’t get a new girlfriend soon he is going to die or need to get a new liver. me too.
there’s a bench of old men chiefs in trinity bellwoods that i bike by every single day (whether to work or gym) by the dirt path and they get maje enjoyment seeing me blow past in my bathing suit top and platinum hair. it’s pretty funny. takes me a few days to get over shyness of seeing the same person about town then i get to smiling at them then saying hello. blows their minds. floors them. speaking of the dirt path in bellwoods by the baseball field more southern in the park, i feel like there is a battle betwixt people on foot and cyclists. that path is kinda integral to cutting through the park yet people on foot get all staunch over walking space so i have to bounce off it and cruise the grass for a few as i’m gunning it up and up getting more exhausted and agitated. basically, fuck you lazy assholes, it’s a park! you can walk the fuck anywhere! get out of the way that path is for bikes and it’s a shitty path at that, so bumpy, rugged terrain, roots asunder, low tree branches death trap is what it is and then some slow yuppie ass family obstacles with baby strollers and relaxation footwear self-entitled dinkheads hogging up the way. i am going to mow you down one of these days and it will be a shit show so please if you hear a bike coming get out of the way or at least veer to the side a little and make room you selfish in the wrong crank.
there was something else i wanted to complain about but i forget what it was. all my mental notes to self are like REMEMBER TO WRITE ABOUT THAT NAPKIN THAT MADE YOU THINK ABOUT SOMETHING IN A DREAM ONCE then i read it on a receipt or something and my brain takes the form of the riddler’s question mark superhero costume. remind me to tell you about a photo that made me almost crash my bike last nite as well as a woman who said she hated me yet reads my blog every single day i ran out of blog time.
check these waste cases out. bachelor party. they wanted to go to the rippers, i tried to talk the groom into it but his woman is too controlling so he got right pissed instead. got the led out for the boys then some teenage wasteland and other tommy who and a full on air guitar brawl was underway. i cracked my head on the old school fridge tap and have a massive contusion now. good thing i have bangs. good thing i injure myself DAILY.
groom on the right. best man on the left. both asleep while the boys give’r in the foosball room. i haven’t tended bar upstairs in months. it was fun. note the playboy mag.
evan works at suspect. he’s bros with eastern this funny ass asian guy who works in our mirvish hood who had no idea bout the henry bloggins of blogging what is raymi, just knew me as a regular civilian until his friend evan is like raymi works next door!? this girl i know is a massive fan and we’re going to hang and come see raymi. blew eastern’s drunk ass mind so they showed up for me to drop some raymi 411 on eastern’s ass all about this stupid internet dominance of mine. he’s in love with my dad’s band too, caught them when they played a couple months ago. think they’ll play central again in fall and you better not miss it. the wasps blew their loads big time over that gig. um what else yeah that’s me periodically takin’ a work minute rest to pose in a photo with a custy. can you imagine doing that? i know a lot of famous musicians/artists/actors have reg jobs in the industry where you can go and stare at them for hours by. happens to me. sometimes i won’t be told til i give them the bill, they’ll be like um, do you blog? i’ll be like you know very fucking well that i do thanks for telling me at the end of this and not at the beginning of serving you i’m racking my brain for all the stupid shit i could’ve possibly said to you over the last hour. you coulda got raymi the wicked instead of stressed out sweaty frazzled raymi. oh no wait that’s both.
friday nite went to the drive-in with ginger at polson pier. he had never been to the drive-in before what??? you couldn’t pay me $200 to tell you what the fuck the expendables was about we talked through so much of it and were completely gunned. predators also kinda sucked but we had a blast. it’s all about the experience of sitting in a car with the windows open drinking roadies smokin’ weed eating garbage popcorn in a huge lot staring at a screen listening to a film over the radio in the summer in the middle of a city. you should do it. make sure you hide your booze smartly though cos they check cars there. i’d tell you how i do it but i feel like it could get back to them? i mean the entire city reads this stupid blog so maybe i should shut up once in awhile? (not happening).
drinks mix tour. in the coke we have fancy rum from wherever ginger got it. in the aloe absolut. belvedere in the diet coke and gin in the vitamin water new flavour (amazing blend fyi). has anyone tried that new coke that has ginseng in it? does it make you like the incredible hulk? i feel like i wouldn’t blink for a day if i had it. don’t think i won’t i’m a new product addict like mad.
retarded salad from crappy qb sports bar dinner date with my dad. beyond offensive grammar all over that menu so atrocious. makes you feel like a smugbag going over it. fuck, what doesn’t make me feel like a smugbag? ps. i just invented smugbag WHAT A SMUGBAG I FEEL LIKE RIGHT NOW. <-scredriver city. oh right this is a blackened chicken salad and it was actually decent. iceberg lettuce is for miscreants though, the chicken itself was spectacular.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4894801826/in/photostream/
are you digging the non-order of these terrible blackberry shots?
http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4894761626/in/photostream/
stew is an awesome collector of knick knacks. i am so bummed he’s moving in september. we are both night owls. i’ll come home and text if he’s up and its literally a 3 second walk across the street. he’s moving into trish’s building (house?) and they want me to move into the floor on the top, also available. too rich for my blood. well it’s not i just like having lots of extra money to blow on shit i don’t need. well, i’m actually saving for travel.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4894158385/in/photostream/
how do you get rid of knee scars?
http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4894157899/in/photostream/
not to be conceited or anything but i have wicked gams. sometimes it’s like i can be the epitome of bloated and it doesn’t matter cos there are no cankles in sight.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4894752590/in/photostream/
etc etc
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lucas hung as crap. me on way to gym. aren’t those mel’s shorts? hahaha.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4894155665/in/photostream/
it’s a good life. i know i’ll look back on this period of singledom depression and be like what the hell was i thinking this life is awesome! i did exactly whatever i wanted whenever i wanted and answered to fucking no one. buck the f up guy! melucas get drunk sentimental pre-emptive nostalgic over me living with them too sometimes then we all hug crying and beat each other up. i love them. we gang up boss lucas around too it’s pretty funny. poor guy (loving every second of it). i have to go hug them right now brb.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4894156285/in/photostream/
torture time. i felt like puking about here. sometimes you just push it too hard i guess.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4894750424/in/photostream/
after gym brosz7’s.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4894749994/in/photostream/
i’m developing a fondness for cider. i think i get off on the face flush high it gives me. probably an allergic reaction. well that’s what gin blossoms is right? can i talk about more alcohol in this post christ.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4894749506/in/photostream/
melodie says i am eating way too much tuna/salmon/sashimi/sushi etc. i am being an asshole to the planet (sustainable food) and signing myself up for mercury poisoning. fiiiiiiiine.
ok newsies i think that’s all i have in me for now. i just had a shower now i have to do hair makeup and plan for dinner then don’t forget it’s strung out sundays (even though i’m not strung out) so you know what that means. it means i am not going to tweet anything retarded hopefully.
miss you like a hole in the head. we made it through the week.
xoxo
-my little pony
I don’t really know how to put this so I’m just going to start writing and hope it works out.
I’ve been reading your blog for over four years, introduced by Etienne, Emilio’s sister. I mean I could drop some names of people we both know, but ultimately I think it would be a manifestation of my intense need for you to think I’m worthy or whatever, so I’m not going to. And I don’t really comment on your blog at all, cause whatever. It freaks me out sometimes. So open to interpretation and can be catty and confusing. Not you. More the wackos, perverts and bored teenagers.
Okay all this boring shit doesn’t really matter – like how at first I didn’t like you and then next thing I knew I was checking your blog about two or three times a day and and how
now I’m basically fixated on the fact that I think you and I would have pretty much the best night of our lives drinking and laughing and breaking hearts while the sun comes up.
Just recently I went through some major changes in my life. For a long time I knew that I didn’t want to be with my awesome boyfriend anymore, obviously not because of how awesome he is, more about how I got together with him when I was really young and we’d been together for 6 years… blah blah blah. It all of the sudden became really important to me to discover who I am today, as a young woman, without a man. I think you know what I mean.
I want you to know that however cheesy it sounds, you really empowered me to make a pretty fucking massive decision in my life. Watching you go through your ish, day to day – with all the adversity and yeah, granted you’re not like pioneering Civil Rights in the deep South, yeah you’re living your life but hey, I get it. I think you’re great. I think your beautiful and vain and humble and nuanced and smart and making an impact… A true Artist.
I live in Vancouver now but I’m from Ontario. I was just in Toronto shooting a short film I co-wrote and starred in, and really was in cottage country for 6 out of the 7 days, but my first night was in Toronto. My best-friend/the director of the film wouldn’t let me go out – haha, she wanted me to have a good sleep before our week of madness. And all I wanted to do was go to the Central and fan-out on you. But I guess it was all for the best. Instead I’m writing you this email because, well first of all I can’t bring myself to get on my bike and ride to the Ocean. Tough life, I know. But also, I’m writing this cause how often do you get a rad email from a cool girl who thinks you’re really great? Not often as I understand it, and you know, why not tell people you think are really great that they’re really great?
Much love to you and I hope next time I go to Toronto we can hang. Might be moving there in the Winter. We’ll see.
Take care,
Katie
Jesus you just made my fucking afternoon. Send me your picture! I love dope chicks. Congrats on your life and film and leaving your man. Its tough being single but it’s an adventure. Took balls to write to me that way. Though im really not that intimidating.
do you know how much i get the i hated you then i loved you thing? stu and i were discussing this last nite. he broke it down pretty smartly. too spazzy right now to get into-depth about it but yeah i’m glad i’m liked now. everyone kinda hates me at first then they realize they’re being stupid and should just allow theyselves to fall in love. don’t fight it! ok fine. even though stew is gay he understands the sexiness of a woman’s androgyny, which i definitely border. i’m girly but i’m bro-y and i am gonna go out on a limb and say i feel that chicks are part attracted to me/that, intimidated by it cos they don’t possess the bro-gene so it’s like fuck she’s got that one-up on me that some dudes are really attracted to but also i am attracted to her too so it’s a double fuck and then there’s her blog showcasing the whole mental fucking thing. stew says it’s clear that i want a man by looking at my blog and that maybe other chicks see it too and so they see competition? when really it’s not it’s just my life on display, not like beating you over the head with GIVE ME YOUR HUSBANDS it’s just oh fuck another day another stupid thing i did and now here i am complaining about it insert 50 photos of myself in a bikini top press send. i dunno. half the chicks whom i’ve had passive aggressive relationships with eventually get slaughtered and pounce me. i’ve bagged many babes is what i’m saying. so it kinda makes sense in a fucked up way. i can turn the sexy off and on like that. usually it’s off but still present, can’t help it.
does my tattoo look like a bratz doll to you? someone said that at the bar once and i almost brained them. another one i’ve gotten is betty boop. how lazy are these people? some chicks know it’s a blythe doll though, once they realize that they become nicer to me cos they learn that i reside in the upper echelon area of cool.
prepare thyself for a gritty bitchy blog post, rife with snark. this computer is slow as shit and my brain is clocking 150km/hr i am beyond under-stimulated. i’ll take it out on the blog. if you could see how much my bangs are sticking straight up on end right now from frustration a la that scene in tommy boy when farley loses it in the office of the potential break pad buying client you would laugh until you died. as for me i simply just want to die as this is hyper-annoying i can’t tell you how little i’ve accomplished since sitting down at this thing.
page three spread of the burlington beat. still pretentious kitchen life. this was funny to me last nite in a red wine buzz overtired tequila soda vortex. i woke up hung today and i barely drank last nite i guess it’s residual hangover from p&l nite. i think eating like a rabbit isn’t a very good base. who cares guy this trick is leaning the fuck out.
my brother’s gf made a comment about my 3/4 face giving poses. says she noticed that i do that a lot. oh, hmm, really. detected a little borderline snark there. should i mug shot pose or vamp, what do you enjoy looking at more? it’s all moot anyway as i look stupid as fuck in this photo.
yesterday’s pre-workout intake. fascinating i know. i do the tuna salad so often i can tell the difference between every batch they make. this one was good cos it was very low on mayo. the first time i bought some it was like hi can i have 150 grams of mayonnaise thanks!
how i look without lovehandles being smothered (camouflaged) by shorts. i had epic cramps and was beastly menstrual bloated, the abdominal machine took care of my cramps. i bike half naked to torture myself and inspire myself to get fit. like, if i want to look hot and ripped naked then i have to bike naked. it’s punishment for getting blubbery. also i sweat profusely by the time i get to the gym there is no point in wearing a shirt AND free bike tan multi-task. i think i have to invest in some legitimate workout clothes a la lululemon which will be me eating words like crazy. if you’ve been following along for years then you’ll know i have made an ass ton of dickhead lululemon jokes before. anyway i’ve lost five pounds of real weight not just fluke somehow woke up lighter weight and then was heavy again at the end of the night, you know what i mean? hopefully because i sure as hell don’t.
tweeted this a bunch already. i’m in this week’s NOW go get a copy or like fifty and make a raymi collage. melodie’s photo is beside mine too and she looks so beautiful i want to barf.
how many name droppers does it take to fill parts & labour? zero because all the name dropping happens on the sidewalk out front while your eyeballs roll back in their sockets.
hailey is the most beautiful girl ever and she’s developed an attitude and wit to her it’s awesome and going to be trouble. gave her a pair of hipster shades, black fakebans with hot pink sides.
suburban loungewear. i can’t rotate this because i am using an unsupported IE browser from when the internet was invented. i’ll hazard a guess that this shot is just as shitty the other way around, no mystery, no contest. the stupid strawberry shortcake shorts are from 69 vintage.
i look like hailey here. that’s my uncle mike. he was blasted and fell down each and every fucking stair for the big SANTA IS HERE reveal for all us kids. hands down the funniest thing ever EVER. he couldn’t see the top stair from the beard obscuring his vision then straight bailed like a boulder gaining momentum down a hill. he laid in a pile of his sack of presents at the landing while we all laughed our asses off. i am cry laughing right now envisioning it. the kerouac side of the family never fails to entertain. it was extra funny because he bellowed out at the top HO HO HOOOOOoooooooo screaming all the way down we were hyper and impatient for presents after dinner then it finally happens and he fucked it all up. my papa was pissed cos he normally did santa for us.
my mom let me play hooky from school (i was a brainer so it didn’t matter) this day and took me shopping. i remember feeling nervous and humiliated by this rabbit. i didn’t understand what the big deal was about NEEDING a photo with it. holy how things have changed. i’d be straddling that guy air guitaring with my leg in a photo these days. also, remember those stupid jackets?
retarded dowdy fashions. nice fake smile mom. those dolls were an expensive big deal, they cried when they were apart and laughed when they were together.
homestead cottages. that bathingsuit ruled though my friend brooke told me off about it once, she wanted me to wear my other one piece with hot yellow leopard print and zipper up the middle cos this one embarrassed her. i bet she was just jealous cos i had a stomach shower suit and her suit sucked. we were always in competition apparently. man i was so daft then, so gullible and genuinely nice, always treated like garbage by other chicks. thanks ladies! brett on the right was clocked in the head by a sideview mirror by a passing van and got brain damage. so sad. wonder what happened to that family. this guy was such a character, like, gonna do something, be somebody type. tragic.
wore my headband all hipster before hipster was hipster. i was chosen to receive that cheap stuffed thing cos my babysitters were the ones in charge of the gifts or something and i clearly was the awesomest kid in the naybe. that’s dale as santa, my first virginity-stealing boyfriend’s dad. guys, endless information. i got it.
big ass birthday party at the bowling alley. why do i always look confused about what’s going on in photos? i so didn’t like my picture being taken then. i felt ugly duckling all the time. that outfit ruled though. two piece. that’s kristi with me she’s practically family. our moms are/were besties.
i remember this moment and hating it, refused to smile, hugging self to try to be as invisible as possible. hated pictures. i am so shy here. that’s brett again. our families planned our week at the cottage at the same time. his sister lisa is beside him and the blond kid who looks like steve martin showed me his wang. gross. i had a crush on brett.
do you know the frandiscos? that’s jonathan in the beetlejuice pants and his little brother in the back mugging like a goon. the awesome what is me and my backward suspenders is pretty obvious.
jonathan and i were best friends from kindergarden to grade eight, childhood boyfriend and girlfriend too whatever that shit’s not real but anyway, i take credit for all the cool he copied all the music i liked. we got in trouble all the fucking time for talking in class and rippin’ jokes. each year we got placed in the same classes was like a secret burn on our new unsuspecting teacher, we’d sit near each other and hold court for hours. you know who invented the term “jonafran” i did, hybrid of jonathan and his last name.
ok wieners it’s high sun time. i wasted the day and this post sucked now i hate myself. going to the drive in tonite with ginger. so stoked.
i am malcolm x. that’s my scrapbook from england. lotsa winners in there. including james jagger’s (yes mick jagger’s son) german assignment drawings. he went to the school i went to in oxford.
was only going to go for ONE drink and then meet up with the hair babes at brassai but got shitfucked instead all nite. mer and steph showed up and we dance partied. scott was playing great music and the few songs i requested he played and brought the party up more more more. by the time whitney’s wanna dance with somebody jam came on, perfectly timed, people lost their fucking miiiinds. i give myself a 9/10 for dance moves.
trish scolded me for biking listening to music. blew past her two nites ago, she and her pals were screaming my name (love it!) and i didn’t hear. then i got home and all my texts bounced back so i guess that late nite jam wasn’t mean to be. check out her coffee stained cards this saturday at the parkdale bazaar, this girl’s a talent.
i have zero patience i am totally on my period totally not pregnant (thanks mom) totally totally totally done staring at the flickr % number get higher in slow motion. bleh. last nite i went to ultra for my very first time. it was pretty much exactly as i expected it to be except better maybe. better because i got to mooch off my new friends’ bottle service perch, and cupcakes. bottle service can be deadly cos you’re essentially drinking goblets of vodka. the ratio is like 3:1 vodka for the lead.
here i am with my other new friend, a bag of cheeseburger doritos. it’s the willy wonka of flavours. when violet beauregarde has that gum she can taste the soup pouring down her throat. the distinct flavour of relish and ketchup and whopper and mayo all that can be detected. doritos’ best flavour yet i hope it sticks around long enough for when i’m skeletor later down the road i intend to eat a big bag like a roast beef dinner and chase it down with some OE and a massive blunt cos i ghetto like that.
just let me get these boring body photos out of the way then we’ll get on to the better stuff. flickr was not co-operating yesterday when i was being conceited over my last post so these are the leftovers. i am really glad i started working out again its done wonders for my spirit. i biked/trecked across the city hmm lets see, from ginger’s where i crashed one way then biked to gym then home then to work then home again then to ultra then home again. i feel like i could totally be a bike courier, i motor pretty good, i ride my grandpa’s bike like it’s a courier bike and i see looks on the faces of members of the courier cliques like they’re all impressed.
i’m worried about winter and how i’ll get my fix then. i’ll have to join the gym in liberty village cos there is no way i’m biking to yonge street from parkdale in a blizzard. i’ll worry about it when the time comes. my body weight fluctuation has a pattern i feel. this time last year, well in september really, is when i joined my gym. i got ripped for a month then i moved to burlington once we split up and stopped working out but was able to maintain my figure. though i think that has a lot to do with the stress of the time as well as drinking less and taking up weed. hopefully metabolism bounces back once summer is over. hopefully i will get a lobotomy and stop worrying and blogging about this sometime, like, ever.
these are my new friends, courteney and jeannine the girl who gave me a brainer aka a super. i dunno why but i’m always slightly shocked when girls like me. like of course you should like me i am awesome but you know, it’s so much easier to be mean so i really admire kindness to dopes like me.
back to this bliss. i may or may not have polished off the last swig straight from the bottle. pure class. no point in pouring out a dollop into another glass.
i looked like a total potato, menses bloated but under there is a four-pack. beast says i am ectomorphic. doesn’t take long to get me in shape. Ectomorphic: characterized by long and thin muscles/limbs and low fat storage; receding chin, usually referred to as slim. consult the almighty wikipedia.
the olympus made it so for the first time in years there were more photos of others than of myself. i already have to give it back too i am fucking bummed and angry but i’ll get it back. i guess serves me right for waiting so long to start using it. maybe i’ll just go buy a new camera? no no no i already need a laptop that is priority one i cannot believe i don’t have a laptop sponsorship. you guys are fucking stupid and i hate you thanks for nothing.
to say we got a lot of attention this weekend would be an understatement. you should always somewhat co-ordinate outfits if you’re going out as a pack (of slut wolves) you’ll have so much more fun and you can fuck with people. the celebrity bug starts small then it takes on this crazy powerful form all its own, especially during a time when people are kind of looking out for famous people? like film fest week in toronto, rubbernecked like crazy in yorkville meanwhile you’re just carting crap around from whole foods STOP LOOKING AT ME YOU TOURIST! woah the coffee is strong today. i am also getting rickets from lying down in the same position for hours typing and emailing also maybe from all that biking and working out yesterday AND working AND dancing. i am a machine.
oh my god i love tourist watching and husbands with wives (WHO MIGHT BE BUMMED ABOUT THEIR MARRIAGES OMG BLOG FIGHT! CATTLE!) walking around in circles and bad outfits.
bailed on this place. line-ups i don’t do ‘em. the next place we went to the hostess was a total cunt. yeah you’re strung out stressed for the weekend but here’s the thing, if you work in the hospitality industry TRY FUCKING BEIN’ HOSPITABLE! so rude. and then they denied casie‘s photo id, well, were on the fence about it i coulda smooth-talked it into happening but decided you know what, you don’t deserve our money or coverage, you deserve your deep-set stress wrinkle line face to get even more tanned and leathery for next season until they fire you over being rude to every single gaggle of chicks who arrive without a reservation, the audacity. half the restaurant was dead in there, we could have sat at the bar. you made a stink about a reservation like a ridiculous cliche get the fuck over yourself. i could feel carly‘s blood boiling from behind me. i know we were being base-judged on how we looked. people-intuition is my thing, maybe more so than writing (debatable i don’t care i can write circles around you if need be) and i know i judge people like crazy but i’m certainly not blatantly upfront rude to their faces about it. sure yeah we looked like goofs but for all she knows we’re toronto’s media swooping in to show everyone how much of a good time we’re gonna be having in collingwood, and guess what we WERE so, way to blow it stupid restaurant i already forget the name of.
see how much of an amazon i am compared to these twerps? see how much i am ignoring my surroundings completely? actually i’m checking my bb for the photo that was just taken of us on it to tweet or preparing it for a photo to be taken to tweet. rinse and repeat 400000 times and jonathan blasting his head off with irritation. whatever guy, i’m working.
yup still ignoring. i love it when someone in your vicinity finally has the snark on ‘em to quip about all the photowhoring. i clear my throat and haughtily (justifiably so) retort, SHE’S WORKING. or I’M WORKING. then they shut up and i give them my card. it’s true. photos don’t take them fucking selves you know.
yes this is good enough for me, everyone it’s ok, we can drink this. haha i love pretentious wine-sampling as if you can turn down the bottle. awkward.
can you imagine if i wore my denim onesie too? i feel like the nite would have turned out differently. do you ever feel that way about certain ensembles you wear? like if you wore the baby doll dress rather than the paintsuit, maybe that bro wouldn’t have spoken to you?
holy shit dynamite asstock. i will be arrogant about my ass until the day it drops which will be never ever ever. good genes i got. ass tan lines maintained year round fyi. oh my god when is this post over i wanted to work out today looks like i’m out of time.
casie and i’s famous pose. there are tons of photos of us since the day we first met talking to each other like this. if a spazz falls in the woods and another spazz is spazzing around how long before one’s heart explodes from adrenaline speed talking?
starbuck’s run. a girl with no shoes on (how do you lose shoes in that village wtf were you up to??) and mascara cry face came in with a friend wasted and sat down. very trainwrecky. casie and i looked at each other knowingly and whispered ok lets not be that this weekend hahahhahaa aw. i don’t think any of us cried once so that’s a win for sure.
i love o’nizzle. she’s 3 years younger, into bright shiny things like me and cos she’s younger more impulsive so she got to be bad guy and took a handful of these straws THAT WE NEEDED DON’T QUESTION IT BIPOLAR NEED THE END.
that guy seriously lectured her about it too. oh fuck off dude do you really want those straws back? we spent 50 bucks here now eat it who are you the mayor of straws?
slept in my extensions from beerfest nite. totally hot and greasy. whateverrrr. casie has the same shoes as me and the same bed. casie casie casie EXPLOSION.
i wanted all the suits organized like how backstage burlesque outfits are all laid out (ps that’s on hold for me for now if you were wondering i was just trying to manage too many things and i couldn’t kick my awful funk) they just look so nice photographed that way.
wearing my old standby black reversible i bought in LA. when that thing dies i will be so sad. i should replace it now before too late. i work out in it too, bike all over city in it. it’s perfectly melded to my body.
speaking of, a dumpy chick screamed SKANKS! out at us when we were walking to the car after kaytoo. she scurried away with her boyfriend (who went home to furiously beat off about us) like a coward. oh no she did not just say that. i yelled back WHATEVER DUMPY SWEATER! she was wearing a green hoodie with the pocket fronts on the stomach so warped from her bitchy insecure fat stomach hands always in there. why would you yell that crap out at strangers? we could have chased you down and reacted all crazy. such nerve. such stupid hilarious nerve. poor girl.
ok bye for real now don’t hate me because i’m insane only because i’m beautiful.
