guys in the burbs check you out pretty hard but they never follow through. sitting in a pink cupcake dress at this corner of the main drag in the sun with my beautiful hot blond mom and my own blond head, boy, such a different life than being brunette. which i do happen to miss but i enjoy the spoilings of blond-treatment very much so.
my beautiful black seedless grapes and i. melodie and luke went ahead to that rooftop party on sunday with my grapes and stole the show, and credit. melodie barely gives credit for all my outfit stylings and other garbage cos she had a sister growing up. apparently shit gets competitive? either way fuck off MY black seedless grapes i invented them!
freeze dried strawberries, dried cantaloupe (so good!) green raisins (why? green grapes?) apple squares and dried pears. all i ate yesterday for dinner. dad you have to eat the spinach salad i didn’t end up eating.
while doing my hair we watched an education. love 60’s britain. peter sarsgaard plays a great creep and now i want to go to paris ten billion times more than i did before.
je t’aime mes amis. oh wait here’s some more randoms.
it’s awkward asking strangers to take your pics, you can only vamp maybe 40% and i can’t boss them around as demandingly as i’d like to. NO excuse me i said HEAD to TOE, whole outfit, jesus get it right.
off to burlington. i dragged melodie along. she LOVES burlington now, had never been before. how novel. all the shit i get up to in burlington she dug it all. so awesome.
first stop after dropping our shit off at my dad’s was barb’s pool. she’s such a great lady. good friend of my mom’s. her coug partner in crime. barb has a daughter i’m buds with. holly.
haven’t had carbs in ages. it’s been full-on zero dairy for a few days now. maybe four? i think it’s working. though if you want to be bloated out of your balls then eat a cup of freeze dried strawberries from bulk barn like i just did now. i think they expand in your stomach like al dente risoto (be careful!) melodie says i am getting skinnier and melodie is always right so that’s cor, as the british say.
dad and i did a pretty good job on my hair. what a money saver this is going to be and think of the bonding too! dad i am turning you gay hahah. nah nah steady on. i think he had a blast cruisin’ around with three hot pisstank chicks up to no good on a monday night yeah?
in new orleans it is so hot all the time like the heatwave temp currently underway that all you can do is get hosed and sit around fanning yourself while soaking in your lap pool, which is a perfect existence if you ask me. sipping on mint juleps while character assassinating everyone in town, bourbons sweating on beautiful doilies while ceiling fans out in the open air, spin. we had a slow start and slow to move lazy afternoon today thanks to the heat and the hang(over). it was too hot to even lie on my towel that got broiled in the sun i did a ferris bueller pass out half touching it half dead in the grass meanwhile melodie was having a heat panic attack on the cement patio. winners. you can see my longboarding accident scrape on my right hip. shit. i’ll say i got attacked by a shark that turned out to be a pussy and i was able to fight it off.
there’s a chick who lives in that house behind me who’s in a wheelchair i think she spies on me through the window. who wouldn’t out here? nothing going on at all. other than me big lebowskiing all over the place. i’m choosing these day’s off in burlington over dating right now. men have been pretty boring lately.
perfs. i wish i could go back in time and be my dad when my grandparents left him the house for two weeks and the car when he was 17 and they went to england. he had parties every nite. beers in the bottom of the pool. he thought about buying that house again but someone just scooped it. aw man! chilled out retro smooth looking bungalow that place would be awesome.
my no carbs diet took us to mikado downtown burlington for sashimi and sake bombs. ok that is the dismal amount of carbs (beer) i had yesterday, the beer for the sake bombs. tooling around to the beach boys and oldies those girls were swooning blissed out retards it was great. melodie says she has no idea why i am so depressed.
too bad the rude native moved from the little village courtyard. i brought aimee here once with an old guy i used to hang with and made him spend like $200 on us right on this very spot, this exact table. we had oysters and champage and a ton of other stupid stuff. my hair looks like shit here.
showed this to melodie and said you will be nostalgic for this moment before it’s even over and she went aww oh yes and part-sobbed. the patio at night in the quiet summer heat was spectacular. drinking so much rose with beast is what got me fat(tish) again i think. i still indulge in it every so often still. the more pretentious and whimsical-looking the label, the better.
me right now and new opi nail polish. can’t quit the baby pink. it’s so lady and darling which i go for. i am going to douse myself in soft baby pink anything i can get my hands on, drench my hair in peroxide to playboy bunny it as much as i can up top all the while leaning out to the max and getting crazy tanned replete with magnificent deep-set tan lines (they are incredible, so much so a recent ex-fling composed a song making mention of them, but anyway…) and then once all of that is accomplished we’ll see what happens. i hope thunder bay likes icy blondes. i guess i’ll have to practise my doe eyes and dimwit voice.
left it on slightly too long. i am floored over saving money. so so totally floored and once i master it i will do other people’s roots too and then i can open an all platinum salon. next time i am going to just do my entire head it’ll be way easier.
dad please put in a lap pool. short of that a slip n slide. sprinkler even? no man, pool all the way. i’m too lazy and old for a slip and slide. i had to ice my right carpal tunnel bone deposit on again off again cyst wrist with my goblet of white wine ice spritzer last nite at emma’s. torture.
all the other pics i missed can be found in my twitter feed.
i brought melodie to chap’s. we had shrimp cocktails which were actually so good. bloody marys. i had mine without salt. i only ordered one cos mel did even though i didn’t want it. earlier today my dad was like so are you, going to blog? he’s jonesing. meanwhile guy, i am like, actually here, not good or interesting enough for you to have me walking around talking chirping buzzing lipping off in the flesh?
a hick yelled to me from his truck if that was a wiggle or was my ass chewing bubblegum? i said oh my god you’re retarded. he wasn’t expecting that as a response so it made him laugh like a demented hyena. my butt is epic and curvy and kinda unexpected on this body of mine so i don’t blame him also, paint it with daisy dukes what look like giant fuck you prude pants and people can get a little crazy.
i cannot believe i am going to thunder bay tomorrow. i am somewhat in denial about it? taking train in early tomorrow to my hot messy bedroom, packing all i can into the carry-on (which sucks cos you can only bring one pair of shoes and you better get that decision made right) then somehow making my way to the ferry (sick of cabs, too impatient for ttc and can’t bike with a suitcase, or maybe i can??) then over to porter which i’ve never flown before. must remember to get off at hanlan’s right instead of gravitational ward’s island pull. why do i feel like that particular juncture off the ferry voyages less frequent…ugh anyway this is why i am somewhat in denial because of the last minute in-between junk i have to do to prepare.
who cares my roots are gone, i can wear rags for the week and get down with my best friend hosers i haven’t seen in far too long. we are going to climb the mountain again. drink at the legion. car hole parties. swim in cool rivers and lakes. lounge around their backyard play in the garden rock out foosball be hungover constantly it’s gonna be soo good oh and they just bought a new house so they’re buzzed off that new thing.
please alert the mayor and every dude in town, thanks.
you’re going to have to bear with this dress for a couple posts. part of why i’m such a change spazz is well, photos. whatever. you can’t show a whole city your dress in one night. it takes two.
woah flickr just did a changeroo i am too baked and hung for this right now. it’s all slide showy whaaaa?
new headband braid from sephora. they didn’t have that platinum hair product claudia told me about or didn’t even know what the hell i was talking about. seriously? i never shop here i can get all my products from shoppers no problem why do i need this little makeup club store for exactly? but anyway here i am so you are supposed to be the experts here. retail fail. i texted claudia and she said it’s by a brand called cake not sure what actual product is called but its a powder for hair. i’m ripped$ bye
AWESOME.
do you know this shit we are talking about? it’s essentially the concept of baby powder for hair but this also does roots. like platinum cover up powder? HELP ME.
bought this too. h&m ten bucks. let melodie wear it last nite (she is killer in it). need to buy new white shoes again already they’re so dirty but the payless by the central vanished overnight. odd.
and that would be me locking my lock to my bike and resting it against this construction fence. here take it i don’t want it! left it there for an hour on our cyndi lauper queen’s park quest came back and it was still there. reeeeetard.
i heard this story from a bar fly him doing the same thing but left his bike for three days and it was still there. clem was like oh my god you ARE fucking drunk. i was a total shit show last nite it was the best. sorry you missed it. french music fashion something or other television filmed melodie and i biking for a while then i noticed looked over and asked who they were shooting for and gave them my card. def on my game. clem got a good video of me biking too (EMAIL IT!) and turns out everyone got to see my red underwear all over town. that dress is the best thing to dance in. i danced on church in front of a massive fan and i looked like a marilyn monroe angel. last nite was out of control fun. we did so much.
my old karaoke stomping grounds was a bit of a sad scene and melodie fucking loved it. they axed the old host and now have some lame wedding-dj type guy and all these rummies singing brutally. pierre was there though kickin’ it nice to see him.
so i have dysthymia. always have. it’s basically like this chronic fatigue depression, background sadness noise. normally i am very good at fighting and coming out of it and i think i’m pulling out now. i know i know oh my god shut the fuck up. i cannot believe the reactions i’ve been getting out of some assholes. suck it up and shut up is the general consensus. do you think i am fucking enjoying this? having a ball? the normal things i fill up my life with to distract myself from this just stopped working and i was forced to confront how miserable i am like everyday people. the rose coloured glasses permanently came off. my mid-twenties breakdown came a little late is all. i’ve been operating as a 21 year old for a long time now.
even though everyone thinks she’s a dink for that thing she wrote when that other author died, read elizabeth wurtzel’s depression-account of prozac nation. the entire book essentially is what lying under a very thick elizabethan dark dining hall rug feels like. you just lie down forever in your misery. it’s fucking brutal. a drunk is much like a depressed person. stubborn and stuck and there’s nothing you can do about it you just have to let it wear itself out. not even an intervention can shake it out of them. i have a few people in my life i cannot even tolerate they irritate me so much with their glum but their glum is the stupid and useless kind whereas me, at least i blog and share it with the world. i force myself out of it and produce piles of literary garbage everyday. whereas they just produce garbage. there was a point though where i couldn’t write at all, which is when i was on lithium. if you check my archives it’s all in there. nothing for days then one line about going to a movie and what i thought about one insignificant part of the film and that would be it and i’d stare at the computer for a solid hour and just sigh. mind completely blank and desperate. i lost myself to that medication. lately i felt like i was coming to that being again and that’s why i’ve been wigging out about it. that was the worst time of my fucking life.
this cowl scarf thing what amanda (mailing your tshirt when i get home) made and sent me helped. we had cottage weather in the city two nites ago. last nite too a little bit but not as bad as wednesday nite.
i drank a ton of tequila at reposado and then ron sexsmith showed up and kept me company. i heard that he is a very sad man. i didn’t tell him how sad i was we just sat. before he arrived a crew of suburban ossington freaks in denim arrived. all these lame people discovered ossington not too long ago and it’s turning into their little outsider night’s on the town disneyland i fucking hate it go away!!!! i feel partially responsible for helping that one suburban guy i was banging in on the secret. balls.
ron doesn’t even have a phone. well, he has a landline but no cellphone. i appreciated that as i punched his email into my blackberry. i had his email already in my gmail account but it’s one of those addresses that aren’t the person’s name so there is no way possible to dredge it out of the blackhole what is my contacts in that thing. i felt like the world was a very nice and small place having ron wedged in like a prisoner in the corner pocket of the reposado bar against the wall. a small place where there are no cellphones or contact to any other people and here is this talented famous sad musician being nice to me and no one even knows.
i was sitting with this bloke and i spied ron and i said to the guy do you like ron sexsmith? and he chortles out I LOVE RON SEXSMITH and i say oh hi ron and hug him at that exact moment the guy almost died right there it really was perfect. i told ron i think this guy has fallen in love with me. how terrible for him. you know when someone is falling in love with you and you are telling them how bleak everything is and they are just liking it more and more and you’re like fine if you’re in love with this person then here it is. i can’t control the effect i have on people. sometimes i am electric and lovely and my dark perspective on things, appealing. muse-like. i noticed that some people’s lives take interesting turns upon having ever met me.
i realised that i liked hanging out more with my dad than my own friends sometimes. i was worried we were going to have to discuss how miserable i am. he was good about it. classy and subtle.
i look like hell after work. speaking of, i had to deal with a real crazy straight off the bat first thing yesterday. he made me feel mentally ill. he was a drunk and i made a judgment call (oh yes smartserve passed with flying colours) and cut him off. then another girl had shots of tequila two at a time and forced me to kinda humiliate her on the patio in front of everyone that she had had enough. she was chatting up chris gostling and i was trying to make a face at him like dude watch out crazytown but then i figured he’d make that conclusion on his own so i went back to being slammed and serving people. oh right back to the suburban people at reposado wasting great tequila pounding shots like that. soo dumb! you sip and chase with that spicy tomato juice. better yet are the vodka soda orderers. you DO realise you’re in a tequila bar, yes?
so the crazy guy i had to cut off booze-wise was mostly his conversation i needed to cut off. i said i had to go into work-mode and we had to stop the topic of our conversation because it was exhausting me and i was relating too much. he wa a little manic. i’m pretty vulnerable right now also i enjoy doing roll-ups (cutlery) by myself so i can think about shit which is hard to do when a guy is laying his life history of mental illness out on the line for you. i wondered if it was of my job requirement to listen to this crap. no not really if it’s interfering with my work. then of course he gets all defensive and hurt and wounded and i’m like look buddy i just can’t talk right now. he asks for my blog and i say no and he goes well i thought it was out there in the public and free for all. yeah it is but i’d just like to exercise some boundaries and space between myself and customers. jesus give it a fucking rest. i’m getting angry now about it.
creme brulee sliders. vanilla dark choc and mango. dad barely helped me what a liar when i was ordering. they were delicious. de-fucking-licious. they’re not called sliders on the menu, that’s just my drive-by white-trashing. paradiso is supposed to have this chintzy high-end sheen to it, it always seemed so elusive to me as a kid. now i don’t give a fuck. don’t let snooty intimidate you. just stroll on in and start making demands. that’s how i do.
caught all the fireworks and beat it out of there before everyone else could get to their cars. ruled. then we came back here for pimm’s and backyard. i think it’s a little warmer out here though can’t know for sure. time to hit the backyard. xoxxo.
oh one more thing, zero tequila hangover. also, zero chambord hangover and i combined the two. tequila is a skinny booze i think too. bonus.
on the way home last nite i asked my dad if he at least had ice made (he does, thanks to me from last week) and i said oh yeah you have that bag of stoner ice. party ice. total stoner ice. i’m hoping to make that term catch on.
Nicky says, “Hi raymi, you probably don’t remember but i used to
email you every so often about 7 years ago, when
i was bored at my terrible call centre job. you even got
back to me a few times..
i just read your article in the NP and thought, gee i
wonder if she is on FB, and here we are ten
seconds later.
it must be nice to have the NP call you a notable
torontonian! kudos!
a friend of mine said they saw you at some awards show
at a table with BTO or something like that, they were
more excited to see you than everybody else at the table!
ha..
anyways, hope you are doing well for yourself and
now we can be FB friends if your up to it..
bye for now!
nicholas
ps – i just got out of jail <--kidding..........".
oh yes, the shirt. some things get rotated more frequently than others and then you are feeling picture-takey-posey then it’s like the only shirt you seem to wear.
my waiter was really hot and i felt like we had a “thing” going on between us but i couldn’t very well go over and be like um i am going to circle around again once we leave and pretend i left something here and slip you my number. should have though. now i’ll have to wait it out for some other time that will not happen and the guy probably won’t work there anymore. we were both wearing the same shade of blue shirt. we were both frauds.
virgin suicides vision. then i went on a crappy date with a guy and his weird shaped face. it was down to two guys, knew i wouldn’t like either of them. one wanted to go to reposado. i couldn’t be bothered to humour that guy anymore cos his hair was thinning too much so i last minute-cancel-swapped. the one i met up with was way too short. i am never meeting anyone else off that stupid fucking website. the free drinks and food isn’t worth it anymore. my time is too valuable, these dinks are just so exhausting. i can’t even muster up enough energy to exploit them here which is half the point of the “meeting”. i just look at them and think, he’s not him, why am i here. i also do not appreciate another round when i go to the bathroom and have already stated i was finished.
as much as i love eating i am sick of eating. and drinking. something that was at first such a joy and still is, is now seen as an, i dunno. there is something more right? it’s travel. all i see before me is night after night after night of dinner and wine and then bed and then rise. i am the worst company ever right now basically.
as if i’ll be able to resist doing this at work. drowning gelato in espresso. except we have just ice cream. so good.
this post was incredibly difficult to get up and i can’t even express why. i just feel weighted down. i regret yesterday’s post because i realize i won’t be able to shake these blues right away and it irritates me quite a bit. i also received a lot of nasty comments yesterday which appalled me. apparently i shine some joy on people (who sometimes need it) via this blog, you’d think the favour would be returned at some point or other and not shitty abuse. OMG YOU WANT ATTENTION YOU LIAR! i was accused of SO TOTALLY ASKING FOR ATTENTION when i said i didn’t want it because i left my comments on. please, if i knew my website nerd’s email off by heart i woulda written in a heartbeat to turn this shit off. i barely had time to even write that post, i just felt like i needed to get it out cos it’s my goddamn given right to express myself freely and this is my outlet. whatever it takes right?
If you knew how much I was actually hanging on by a fucking thread here I don’t think you’d say such (terrible) things.
I cannot even be completely miserable without getting shit on. Ever. Fuck you.
a comment i posted yesterday not sure if it went through.
i’m going to visit the skids in thunder bay next week once and for all.
yesterday was outright awful. i have not been that depressed in a super long time. i couldn’t even write about it, what do you say? i was actually a little scared by how sad i was. i thought this had better go away, will it? i felt adult and scared like no one can hold your hand out of it this time you have to just button down and pull through. sometimes i semi-enjoy being sad, sad and smug. smug because there’s only just a pinch of sad and i can see it lifting before it settles too long. but not this time. there was no enjoyment. i have never whined so much. or felt so embarrassed about it. just explaining my over-all lack of punch here. when i get to feeling this way i try to retreat and remove myself from everyone so they don’t have to witness it. i felt so desperate to get away from this funk though so i forced myself on my friends and dragged them down a little. al said to know that i, someone like me, gets depressed, well, it’s, depressing. exactly like that he said it. i just nodded a ton. i also hate that i am re-reading the bell jar right now cos i already felt sylvia plath sad so i’m thinking hopefully i’m not letting that seep into my psyche and imagining this grief.
summer really depresses me. at first it overjoys me then it kills me because i look around and go oh, i’m still stuck here. fantastic.
when i get this way a quick trip out of town does me wonders but i can’t even escape that way cos i have obligations every day this week so i am forced to confront how shitty i feel. i can’t run from it and i can’t run from me. when i ride my bike it cheers me up a bit. doesn’t last though. today work should be fine, good for me actually. too bad i am consumed by so much fucking stress though and a few loose ends to get to though i can’t because my day is filled and i went retard yesterday. was there something i could have done about that? i wonder if a normal person got sad like that once every ten years could they finish their work? lately i’ve been wondering a lot about sad and not sad people. it’s sad.
sucking it up now. BYE!
ps. i am NOT writing this for any attention whatsoever. just pretend i didn’t write it. it’s a means to get it out of my system so i can move on to being indifferent again. if i’d wanted emo attention i would have written this yesterday and titled it KILL MEEEEEEEEE I WANT TO DIIIIIIIIE and so on.
doctor seuss rainy afternoon. thing one and thing two afternoon. it just occurred to me that i associate rainy grey do nothing saturdays with children’s stories. i am a nostalgic child. terribly sentimental. it runs in the family.
it also occurred to me that i am lucky and borderline hedonistic. selfish and whiney. i have practically zero responsibilities aside from requiring money for rent and therefore working a few days a week, but really i have demanded of myself a life where there is ample room to do pretty much anything i want at the drop of a hat. someone else in my position might just fuck the dog a little harder (um sorry that figure of speech got a little out of hand)(rhonda my garbage truck mouth kills yours) and be a little more, lazy? self-indulgent?
the point is i just had one of those a-ha! moments i’m somewhat forcing upon myself to snap out of this bullshit funk that i am in. oh my god it is so tough sometimes, being resigned. it’s an awful way to be but it’s ok (SEE, being resigned again) bad shit just speed bumps off my head and i get over it quicker, that’s one bonus of being a depressed sort. when shit goes bad you do not wig out cos you’re always expecting it to be bad anyway and it kind of always is. when those lucky sod idiot types who are blessed to not know what depression waves are get dealt some bad luck they just crumple to fucking pieces. i almost love it in a way. well, i feel smug is all. like i could deal with that misery in a heartbeat many times better than you’re handling it you pussy.
and so, i think it’s humourous this life i have. my dad always says i WISH i had your problems kid. maybe i’m just not driven enough. or i am but too lazy to push it a little bit further. i feel like time is endless sometimes. or i’m filling it up with the wrong things. oh man is that ever the truth.
i think i am going to piss away the afternoon. i hear and see helicopters going overhead. it’s kind of interesting in a boring clipped should i be on edge about this manner. also, a little similar to 9/11 for me. yeah yeah we all know i was living in brooklyn at the time and i’m slightly demented now because of it. sorry maybe experiencing fighter jets in an urbane setting, kinda sorta hardcore? top gun off the top of my brownstone rooftop. you can see the wtc in the second photo of this post, i am 18 and i look like a mod dyke.
I’m sorry you’re so blue, and I’m sorry it’s raining. helicopters are an awful overlay to life, the ultimate sound of power and anxiety (the anxiety of power?). rattling disruption. things with this beast fellow sound like a heartbreak hanging fire and that makes me worry about you. that tumblog is wrenching.
