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one with mascara, one without.
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wearing notorious blue dress to dinner tonite.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4733118551/
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so raymi,
She slumps onto the couch; hot, hungry and exhausted from a hard day at work followed by a strenuous cardio session at the gym. Only two kilograms to go…then maybe she can fit into those size six jeans that call her name every time she walks into that iconic fashion store on the main street. Two hours of her day today was consumed by running, cycling and rowing, followed by a simple salad in a lame attempt to satiate her starvation. Let’s call her Madeline. She is thriving to be the image of perfection in a huge proportion of today’s world – slim, gorgeous and wanted.
Sarah, what the…? What are you ranting about this time? Well, as a matter of fact, I got sunburnt yesterday. I just couldn’t help it! The outside world was sunny and warm with the slightest breeze, it created the ultimate place to relax and recuperate between all the hard work I was doing… Who could pass the sunshine up?! My arms and face have been a little, well, stung today, which indeed has put a real downer on things. But then I thought “Wow, I really need to get a tan, I can’t possibly let my snow white limbs be seen by the public eye”. It has since occurred to me that there are just so many things wrong with that harmless thought that made its way down the path of my mind in the way that any rational thought would have done. That thought sent a massive proportion of my world into an even tighter downward thought spiral.
I know, it’s true. I have a very fair complexion, and being as ‘white’ as I am is just not seen as fashionable, or dare I say it, sexy, in the world we live in. So I genuinely need a tan. I would like to develop a nice, natural (as opposed to fake) sun-kissed glow. And this frustrates me to no end. As Summer approaches, tiny girls will wander around in little shorts and midriff tops – and this scene will become so abundant you simply stop noticing…but whether you pay attention or not, these tiny girls are still likely to have bleached blonde hair and solarium orange skin. This over-tanned, celebrity wannabe look is sought after by too many of the women that inhabit the generation I belong in. I do not find it attractive or glamorous at all.
But people do. They must! Otherwise WHY would they all continue to pursue this look after more than just one summer, so we can’t simply fob it off as another fashion mistake?
Why does this annoy me so much, I hear you quietly ponder? Well, let me explain to you. I’m annoyed that body image is so important to such a large percentage of the Western society – more important than say, one’s own health. Like our friend Madeline – she is not the only girl that puts herself through that torture. Look around you. Sure, there are as many average people as there are gym goers, or health buffs, if not more. But being ‘average’ does not have the potential to consume you completely. It may be easier to live, but who wants to be just another person when there is the chance out there to rise above ‘average’, to become beauty in human form? How could you possibly be happy with yourself? Beauty envelopes all of us in the forms of things we actively consume – namely TV, music, and movies. There are superstars and models and just simply gorgeous people out there, living the red carpet life, and we all know it is far, far from the glamorous beautiful world they try to make us believe in.
There is a not so fine line between the amount you care about how you look and the lifestyle you live. I respect that everybody is different, but those of you that have overstepped the line just annoy me. It’s the human race in general that I’m at my wits end with. It’s not okay (healthy) to want to be like darling Madeline, and count every individual calorie you intake only to make sure you cycle off twice as many, because you need to lose just two more kilograms. Nor is it okay (healthy) to be 120kg and choose pizza with garlic bread and a can of coke for dinner because you don’t care about the way you look. Mate, seriously, what about your heart and your liver and your cholesterol levels? This is how people die every single day! The problem is, in my eyes, the not-so-fine line exists completely isolated and alone under the world’s bright lights in an over-crowded place, because so many people avoid it and make it invisible. As much as TV, magazines, and other forms of media advertise their beliefs that they are over rake thin women, and that bigger certainly is better, I find an alarming contradiction when I turn the page to see Mischa Barton “looking sexier than ever” – gaunt features, sharp angles and all. How can society be so obsessed with this look? It doesn’t matter as it’s basically the higher power these days.
I believe I have a fairly sound understanding of the way it all works, and of everything that eventuates out of everything else. I appear confident and comfortable enough with my image/weight to live my life with a bounce in my step and a smile on my face. But I’ve fought my own evil demons – that mentality that I’m not pretty enough, or I’m too fat, or my legs aren’t long enough for me to be beautiful since before I can remember. I have, for lack of a better term, ‘come of age’ in the last 4-5 years. In this period I have gained seven kilograms, lost about seventeen, and then gained about nine. If it wasn’t for my loved ones constantly instilling me with self confidence, combined with my almost anal eating habits, those demons would surely be red hot and most likely endeavouring to devour my entire persona. I’m just like everybody else out there that cares about the way they look more than they should. I’ll never stop. And there’s not a whole lot I can do about that and be happy simultaneously. Call it a religion, if you like, or just think of it as teetering on the edge of the not-so-fine line. It’s ultimately my higher power. I have found the balance and realised that to abuse this power by either treating it or tormenting it is going to end badly…it’s all about compromise.
All in all, Somebody needs to flip the coin and have it land sideways, as this discussion has two very clear, very defined sides. And if you aren’t the sideways landed coin, you’re clearly, obviously heads or tails. Nobody wins. Nobody loses, either. Think about it, decide for yourself what side has the better argument. And let me know.
No digging, I have no opinion of you. I don’t know you, so why should I be entitled to?
www.oktobeginwith.com
Have a splendid day.
start 34 seconds in. make sure you’re emo or stoned. or both. even better.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4732633202/
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i always say, “hello men” to the rummies up the street but i think i’m going to stop doing that. rob got stalked by a crazy this evening, someone he interviewed waited for him wearing no shoes or shirt, stuck their foot in his door and attacked him. rob was robbed not even a month ago? he punched his lights out, the attacker not the robber. the robbing happened when we were out getting pissed, naturally. anyway i was like call the cops why are you calling me for?? he’s like oh i guess i should call the cops? what do you mean SHOULD? do it! he said he’s now worried about being a c list celebrity. i was like get this i overheard a table of girls and a guy talking about me and my blog, mad shit, right beside me and they didn’t know i was sitting beside them (HI!) and they all turned scarlet when i left and gave them a little look. it was like that scene in notting hill when julia roberts who plays a famous hollywood star overhears a table of dicks all trashing her. unreal. i got a weird buzz off it like fantasizing about catching your lover in the act with another rush, ooh what do i do? whose lights should i knock out first? i thought about chiming in something snarky. i figured they were going to see me anyway. there was a piano between our tables blocking me a little. i’d slag what they looked like but i guess reading about it all here is justice enough? i didn’t recognize any of them so all useless opinions are based on dog shit they’ve gleaned off my blog.
moving on now.
i sang all the way down shaw on my bike home tonite, fleet foxes. i have to in order to stay awake and alert. i turn on this street or that, some make me smile, others make me frown. i like the streets that are most lit up cos i can see better. i need to get a light and a reflector. my dad’s all THEY’RE ONLY FIVE BUCKS, JESUS! dad my time to go and get one is worth more than five bucks.
my hits were through the roof today. why do you think that is? beast stuff? that email from that girl? my cleanse diet bullshit comment thread? everything? what kind of posts do you like best? i considered another postsecret but that bummed me out today, not feeling it and i can’t do monthly archive round-ups cos it hasn’t been a year since i became unengaged yet so looking through those archives is a bit of a let down. half them are missing photos cos he deleted all the ones of me from his flickr and he always demanded i hyper-link to his account. they’re not deleted forever but who knows what of me i decided i wanted at the time. i don’t think i have the time or attention span to do that kind of post anymore anyway. unless i went back more than five years ago. snorrrrre.
good night sirs.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4730749814/
June 24, 2010
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rob says i’d be a good documentarian.
i’m going to start practicing for when my looks go to shit.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ul1TYWZkzrA&feature=player_embedded
oh my cringe. hair GROW FASTER.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4731303934/
though to be fair the humidity is to blame, not the cut or length alone.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4730800994/
i guess i should just start viewing dudes as jobs. so even though the thing with the dude might be sort of kind of over (who fucking knows anymore) the job isn’t done yet as in the material, the content, meat of the job, and the show must go on as they say so in other news, i do not fucking care anymore. i have to get out of my head about it, less cerebral more ballzy. only a few cool people will get that reference but anyway here is my stupid fucking life. i don’t know why i hoard all these man pictures. i don’t photograph every person that comes into my life, significant or not. lately i have learned in many hard ways that everything i put on here, big or small, IS significant. sometimes you cannot even make a joke. it’s not worth making assholes laugh because it only gives you a headache. i keep forgetting this. but oh how i love to laugh.
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i just told a guy on plenty of fish that we couldn’t go to a specific bar because i had banged one of the bartenders and one of the regulars (months ago)(pretty sure if the one found out about the other…) that is my dating approach now. the more of a challenge you present yourself as, the more they want you. i also am purposely game ruining because i’m not taking it seriously. i get a sense from just looking at a photo that something will piss me off about this person and i get pre-emptively angry at them so i paint myself in a disgusting light and they’re like can i have some more please? and you’re like sure here take it and they still want you. guys if a girl does this it means she isn’t feeling it, or she’s in love with someone else. i told date last nite before i met up with him that i was sort of seeing someone and after whining for five minutes what does he do? cancels on the other girl who IS eligible, to meet me. women are attracted to assholes. so are men. though a woman’s asshole is considered crazy whereas a guy’s asshole is just asshole. women get the crazy stigma like crazy. unjust. maybe it’s because dudes really are attracted to crazy. they’re all fixers. savers. controllers. another thing, there’s crazy and then there’s unstable. know how to spot the difference.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4730158811/in/photostream/
i amended my profile and added all the shitty things i said in my blog post and now i’m being assaulted with messages all over again. same stupid pictures though.
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i told beast i should make this my new profile photo and caption it: ONE TROPHY GIRLFRIEND INSERT YOUR PHOTO HERE and have a shadow cut out of a man on the stoop beside me. i think it would work. trophy girlfriend singles dating site advertisement chock full of nothing but useless boring blonds with designer purses who do nothing but shop and bitch about dinner.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4730803512/in/photostream/
i am only blogging this because i look oh so adorable. cropping him out ugh like i have the attention span or time for that also remember how i said up there i don’t care anymore.
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i even tried to recreate how my head looks when i am kissing i wanted to share it with you so badly without cockblocking myself.
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sort of got it.
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lost it.
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am i pouting here?
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someone tried to say i had no ass. um, are you fucking retarded? LOOK!
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no one can borrow those shorts ever they are perfectly melded to the form of my body. do you think i care how sick of them you are? PMS!
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what is this three’s company much? all i need is a tit job. speaking of i’m supposed to be pamela andersen in our upcoming harlettes show JULY 4th at revival.
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rose said every day she got through the master cleanse she would treat herself to something. upon hearing treat i was like WHAT A COOKIE OMG IM STARVING. so i bought two pairs of shoes yesterday then cheated anyway NICE.
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not right with this get-up but with something else they will be.
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rena said they were doing 2 for 40 last week. i was like give me that please. she said it was actually second pair half off. i finagled 20%.
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i am going to drink an entire bottle of pimm’s when i’m done this fucking fast.
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maple syrup bottle is almost killed.
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drank at LEAST 8 half litres yesterday. swallowed gum accidentally on purpose too. also, what about vitamins? is that cheating?
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keeping busy moving around made not eating possible. coffee and dandelion tea up down the stairs patio kitchen downstairs back again.
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kitchen people laughing at my suffering. offering off the menu food like crazy. this is red beans and condensed milk on ice. ICE! so smart. norman better make me this next week.
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meanwhile in i hate my life town.
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wearing white shoes at work is the dumbest thing ever. don’t care feet were killing. necessary. why do you think i bought them?
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cinnamon allegedly staves hunger pangs and if you say it’s cheating i will stab you in the eye with my finger.
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i wrote that saturday and this gastank family loved it and me so much. i love when all my little autistic quips are appreciated, mostly cos they’re unexpected then people are like YOU INVENTED PERSONALITIES HERE’S A HUUUGE TIP. the answer is 5 or 6 drinks. i need to google another bar riddle. those pin-up girls are from my personal collection. i was going to make a collage out of them once when i thought i had enough hours in my day.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4730167931/in/photostream/
my cousin showed up. she’s in a bit of a (stress-induced) mania at the moment. it’s taboo to talk about but i don’t care. i feel for her. i’ve been there. you have to steer the conversation and when they constantly apologize over being hyper and feeling immense and endless guilt you really have to let them know it isn’t a big deal at all. don’t let them have any caffeine either and force them to sleep. she’s lost 100lbs!
http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4730168251/in/photostream/
i told her i couldn’t babysit her stuff so don’t leave anything of value on the patio. she wrote me a note. manic people write lots of notes because they often forget the one thing they wanted to tell you because it gets lost in the ten other things they’re distracted by. i was very touched to see her yesterday and also angry at everyone else, i felt very protective, also pissed off by some family members. i don’t care if i’m inviting yet more drama into my life with writing this here. i feel strongly about this shit as i have suffered from what she’s going through now. basically just try to bring it you guys haha good luck.
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we have a new menu and it’s 35% off before 5 every day. i haven’t been able to have any of it though. well i tried the vegetarian poutine last week and it’s amazing. these vegetarians died of happiness yesterday. it’s mushroom and a whole bunch of other stuff that i forget-based.
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finally saw corey (and krista) yesterday (and peter little have fun in germany!) they’ve been central lushes for awhile now and we’ve never crossed paths. these guys are giants i am on my tip toes.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4730812772/in/photostream/
i don’t think i can get over how dumb i look with pigtails what am i a cabbage patch kid? it was hot my hair was messed from sleeping with them in the nite prior and i kind of dress like an idiot at work now it’s like my personal uniform.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4730812906/in/photostream/
the things that go on there when i’m not around, no idea. always a laugh though.
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alright time for some REAL work now, my seafood for thoughts. hyuck.
i keep getting boredom stings and think ok i’ll just go out to eat but then i remember i can’t! this happens every 4 minutes so every 4 minutes i get really bummed.
