hello good day just a few things i wanted to discuss with you.
one, i ate a hard boiled egg in bed yesterday because my life is like the movie amalie.
i feel like a hard boiled egg on your bedside table is probably the most adorable thing in the world. prior to it i had tapioca pudding. i know, sorry for breaking your heart.
and when you’re a gorgeous shit for brains, well, you can pretty much do anything you want.
melodie’s midterm is finally over we celebrated last nite at ronnie’s.
then i baked a cake.
have you guys seen this video yet?
now read the following!
Heya,
Short and sweet. Unfamiliar Records 5th Anniversary Party is this Friday, March 5th.
It’s kind of a weird spot called Cryptic Canvas hidden behind a building off of King & Portland, should be fun.
Just in case here is a google map link so you can see how to get there: http://bit.ly/cPJdsX
This is our only show until the EP release party, which will be mid/late May.
Unfamiliar Records 5th Year Anniversary Showcase
Friday, March 5th
Makeout Videotape (Vancouver)
RatTail Stop Die Resuscitate
The Two Koreas
DJ Mikey Apples
$5 – 8 Waterloo Terrace (Cryptic Canvas – King/ Bathurst behind Living Lighting on King)
ok bye now i have to clean the jizz out of my bangs and go meet casie sean and carly to discuss our blog seminar thinger. though i don’t really know what to discuss aside from ok when am i on and how long do you need me to say a lot of nothing for? just kidding i’m jazzed. and drunk still.
now that winter is practically over it’s about time i found these babes. one is bigger than the other, each was knitted by a different person. v apropos for my demented world.
i love you.
she’s an extra small, still loose. yes we know that’s the style but i still wanted it tighter. we’ll make do.
a small, glad didn’t give in to my ego and select an xs. thought it was a dress. so isn’t. you’ll see.
my samurai transformation has begun.
dreamy. i don’t know what appendage that little copper thing is.
so nautical right now.
finally picked up all my clothes off my tickle trunk floor. that rug from ikea is the perfect fit, forget how much it was.
black socks, sexy town.
not one good pic came out of this yesterday. too much sun, not complaining. just will be needing a new location for my outfit shots. think i’m going to hang my red velvet drapes on those doors so it’ll lessen the appears to be living in squalor effect and the browns will all match on the windows.
shag dog bangs: the poor woman’s face lift.
so not a dress. maybe on a teenager.
damn i had fantasies of black tights legs for miles but now i’ll have to throw a skirt or some shorts into the mix which will take away from the streamlined-effect i was hoping to go for. i know sass would just go ahead and wear this with tights. love her bravery. fuck it, black leggings it is. welcome to ass town. population: still got it.
adorable puffy sleeves. robot pose. idiot.
i’ll take better pictures some other time. maybe i’ll wear this friday.
totally practical new (vintage) jacket. 15 bucks. it’ll do me fine come spring, which will last two weeks then it’s summer ahhhh. i don’t know one girl who isn’t horny for spring like a motherfucker right now.
you are going to be so sick of this necklace.
and the whole nautical thing is up there with owls. why am i so ashamed of trend-following? thanks hipsters. there are so many things i have outright avoided playing along with because of the social connotations that go along with. scarves for one. gladiator sandals, which i would kill it in cos i have teeny ankles. i can’t think of anything else right now also this just in, who cares anymore? ME! FOREVER!
hey gong shows, how’s your news? i made bangs yesterday. they don’t look as shitty today. i feel annoyed at myself for doing it but then i remember why i did it and quickly get over the self-loathing. so what it’ll take ten minutes longer getting ready? so what i have to wash them everyday. so what i look like a fucking beatle now. i was sleeping, that fitful sleep where you can’t stop thinking about what you will be doing upon waking up. deep anxiety sleep. in my head i repeated to myself bangs haircut bangs haircut bangs when you wake up you will have bangs oh what an idiot. so i did it. way to ruin summer.
by nite’s beginning yesterday, kamila and i on our way to see a movie at scotiabank after a long full day of shopping.
olympic hockey game nite. dragged my ass late to the central, picked up forty dollars worth of baked goods from futures (underwhelming) and sat on a pew wedged between everybody sweating sketchily hungover, then once a few sips of sapporo hit my lips hay-o drunk town.
very touching to take it in crammed elbow-to-elbow all yelling and cheering and sigh, nationalistic hard-ons.
breaking these in nicely. i’m a size 8 on a fat day. i think winter shrinks your feets up.
listening to the city celebrating, helicopters overhead. pleasing feeling. i’ll blog the majority of this day tomorrow, have far too many pics piled up.
i love people’s reactions to the couch room. is this someone’s house? is typically the winner.
in love with desolation. i remember working at the hardware store going out for butts and staring out into the grey mississauga joylessness thinking one day soon i will move to toronto and my life will be so glamorous. now i stare into city greyness, but it certainly isn’t joyless. wherever you go, there you are. wow i love craft beer in the afternoons can you tell.
obnox. will be giving a talk with casie and sean the day after st. patrick’s. cool scheduling hahah. come see me in action.
i had a modestly-sized cheese empanada to start, kamila had this enormous corn pie. i helped her out but holy burrito, gratuitous much.
this cat simply did not give a fuck. solid. i fall in love with everybody draped along this coffee spot patio so much so i dread walking by it. no idea what it’s called and if you tell them i love them i will so KILL YOU!
i’ve taken a picture of this wall a billion times.
kam has gorge eyes. eating in a chilean resto following their earthquake made me feel a little sheepish. sigh. oh well, my favourite wine is from chile, they are the only guys who use the carmenere grape and it is the only non-local wine i will buy (stuff it hippies) so i’ll go get a case to show my support. done. problem solved. saint raymi, out. (did i give anyone a pretentious wine boner? good).
duuuuuuuuuuh.
you’d still hit it, right?
ha curling sweaters sign in the background and in the background of that which you can’t see were two igloos spurting maple syrup out their tops, and the smell of bacon frying.
love this kensington gem. i think they import their stuff from japan. it’s a hodge podge of vintage and screen-printed hipster shirts. i bought this one.
but not this. one, because we couldn’t figure out what it said and two it was basically a nightgown and i am too old to do kooky, i think.
but never too old to do teenage boy music nerd who gets laid never.
new sandal kicks for spring. it would be nice if i had the wherewithal to get myself some feminine shoes.
sorry but, i’ve seen cuter. try again assholes.
stop flaunting.
oh bloody christ we get it already sunbeam beautiful moment in time.
get out of my face what are you a chocolatier, are you the candy man can from willy wonka and the chocolate fucking factory!? ok joke window closed now, promise.* (*promise not guaranteed)(hi stephy).
great scene, must go back to pick up dudes. if kamila would stop talking for one second it might have happened. nah kidding, i feel like she’s gonna be a great wing girl.
incredible mirror back there. massive.
stereotypical urban street shot. open the window and let some of the casual out. one guy in the market was all i didn’t know god still made angels (lame i know) and i said yeah well, HE DOES. granted he was likely drunk, crazy, and homeless. or quite possibly all of the above but still, his eyes were totally working fine.
i’m going to get a pair of cherry docs to piss off my brother. he had a pair. i had them in blue. i remember when he got them from rock ‘n tees in oakvegas, we got in the car and he told me to shut the fuck up or something and i was like oh you’re a tough guy now that you have docs. then we wrestled and squabbled til my dad screamed at us to cut it out. i wish i could go back in time as a body builder and pulverize my brother or at least have equal strength. one of my favourite stories is re-telling the time i punched him in the head a few victoria day weekends ago. he pretended it didn’t hurt. such a liar. my arm was sore for days. i so connected.
no i do not want to talk about it i didn’t get them. i forced myself to get brogues instead. couldn’t buy two pairs of shoes in one day. i know i would get more out of the wallabies but still. next week maybe. if i own one more pair of natural looking cozy cutesy man shoes a forest will come up and strangle me for ripping off their style.
gorgeous. so oliver twist’s fagin. i am cutting the finger tips off a pair of hobo gloves the second after i hit publish (no i’m not stop believing everything i tell you).
god those shoes are so dreamy. looks like i’m wearing legwarmers over some white shoes. i bought a pair in reverse black/white from aldo instead and pissed off the clerk at get outside for it, whatever they were cheaper AND i got ten per cent off for bein’ a smooth criminal (a teeny dirty spot on one shoe that will easily come off). we went back to get outside to say don’t bother holding the wallabies and kamila gave in to buying these shoes in white/tan. he gave her ten per cent off to spite me ahaha. we invited him to come have a drink at the central. the brogues i got are pointier and womanlier.
wish i had the nards to wear lady gaga shoes.
what’s it like at this place at the corner of queen and whatever that street the gap is on? pricey? good food? worth it? why do i feel like i would be annoyed by it?
i made my i think i would have to take up smoking again to wear these shoes joke. it got a pity laugh. then i acted it out in coversational format. oh do you smoke? only when i wear these. pity laughs hurt feelings don’t you know!
sat here tweeting insomnia quotes out of a can’t sleep journal while kamila tried on the store. i did pretty good, only bought a cardi off the sale rack. knew my package would arrive soon and today it did. clothing hiiiiiiigheeee.
all you can eat sushi, worst service ever. no tip! too annoyed to recount the story.
drinks at the ossington to drown out our depression from seeing up in the air.
one glass of charming with two heaping scoops of adorable COMING RIGHT UP!
i can’t BRELIEVE IT! breanna hi! i have a penchant for sailors. thank you for obliging.
our burgs are so good. almost as good as webers, which is HUGE.
my parents (roommates) showed up friday nite for the shit show what was droppin’ knowledge. so many youngers were floating around by the end of the eve i decided to start carding some of them (they got carded at the door anyway, just felt like being a little shitty, just a little). the power surge you get from that makes you feel ten billion years old and ubes cunty but oh well. the fear in the eyes is so worth it.
costume change, getting sweaty up there.
lady.
tramp.
french club fan. every friday nite if you’re a francophile you need to drop in and talk in your own tongue. duder in the middle is a big fan of mine. sans blog. i busted him on it too not like it’s not obvious. should i hit it? (kidding!)(MAYBE!???) lack of sleep is making me squirly and i’m trying to hammer this out asap to make it not too late to the game.
why do i dress so coyote ugly meets rock of love? T.I.P.S.
this chick: SO AWESOME. so snarky. call me agny-something (ridic eastern euro name). i think i’m winning the phone numbers contest. i think we should include doling yours out too. if it was biz cards contest i’ve already knocked that one out of the fucking park.
this regular, chris, agny was givin’ it to him hard. he’s another barfly fan. though he never drinks. i made him tip. you gotta pat to stay hombre. pretend it’s a titty bar.
closing time feast.
why am i making a getting blown face? mel’s makeup was so ON.
where did you hang my necklace?
me and tiny. haw haw irony so clever, clem threw that one out, not i. i’d much prefer to call him micro or molecule. guy can put away beer. we require his services for scary hip hop nite. some regulars were like this is the first time i have ever had to wait in line to get in to the central. such a party. we upped the price of pbr cos these young skeeves don’t tip. it was great informing them of why the price hike was in-effect and THEN you’d think you’d get a tip out of their shame. nope.
takes us awhile to unwind from the adrenaline work slaughter.
ma, pa, think i’ve found the one.
i think i identify most with the praying mantis. not the fucks then kills aspect per se, more so the lanky limbs and all that, and i think my face looks like a praying mantis’s? ok maybe the kill what i fuck/fuck what i kill aspect too afterall. in theory.
i love that everyone dances and cuts loose. best working environment.
teppei was like can you ask jeremy to pick me up for me and take a picture i am too shy to ask him. oh of course guy! i need to write a guide to demanding photos with people.
don’t know the story behind the flowers but i think we need to have some around more often. i plan to go to ed’s and get as many stupid magnets and things to decorate the kitchen door of. if you have any sweet ecclectic shit send it on by thanks.
lucas was on a tear.
kamila and i wore matching AA dresses last nite. we’re going on a girl shopping date tomorrow to buy more matching duds. pumped!
lucas’ record label is having a huge jam this coming friday you need to go. melodie is bartending. i’ll try to cut out early to make it i haven’t been out on a friday/saturday since i started working. not complaining, just saying. FRIDAY MARCH 5 – 8 WATERLOO TERRACE king street area some kind of loft? going to be catered and all, v swank. v hip. hop. HA hip hop joke ugh die.
i’m beginning to suspect that maybe clem has a napoleon complex. or he wishes he was coyote ugly. can’t believe there are two coyote ugly references in one post.
wish my flash could properly show the actual colour of my hair. i thought my camera bit the dust last nite, i dropped it while it was open/on when michelle came in with a bus bin full of snow and a full on indoor snowball fight broke out so fucking hilarious. clem fixed my lense so we’re all good though i was secretly hoping it wouldn’t be salvageable i am so over that thing.
time for some guns and roses? no problem.
somewhere in oshawa hearts are breaking right about now.
i feel suffocated looking at this one.
r’ok time to get out of the house. today’s menu: get a new hair trimmer before a race war breaks out in my pants. get my shit together to go get a tan. get to the central for the game CANADA CANADA CANADUGHHHHHHHHHHH!
note to self upcoming topics to forget to write about:
-how irritating it is to be pestered by social media brats about how uninterested i am in social media meanwhile no one fucking invites me to these alleged dying all over themselves amaaazing parties.
it’s me, again, sofia. i don’t mean to bug you. i know that you likely get many e-mails from people looking for excuses to e-mail you, but even though admittedly it’s partially that, it’s a connection i’ve been feeling with your posts lately. and yeah, i know you probably get that misidentification too. people who are nothing like you claiming to connect with you, and being repulsed by that connection. (speculating, borderline presumptive.)
i used to write a really frank blog that had a large audience, but nowhere near being written up in the paper levels of notoriety. and that armchair psycho-analyzing was common. annoying, a dime a dozen. you’ve covered this. it was funny how common it is that people assume that everything you present is access to the inner you. i think when my blog had zero audience, that might have been partially true, but that is painful when you have shit-for-brains commenters spitting on your heart every day, or phonies who think they identify with you (me!).
people take your public vulnerability for granted. they’re invited to make judgments because of the format. and everyone is shouting to be heard in the mess of voices that populate the cyberwebz. it’s sometimes hurtful, but mostly just annoying. this e-mail isn’t telling you anything new, just that you do have thousands of silent readers who connect with what you say and write, and on a sensical, meaningful level, one of them, me, up until recently-ish, i guess (reading since 2004 or 2003, whenever matt good started linking to you).
Raymi I have been following you for a few years now, and I must say I can really feel the melancholy you are feeling in your posts. I am sure you made the right decision with Fil but I am not sure what your life has become now is the right direction either. It is like everyone of your posts is about drinking, getting wasted, and hanging out at bars. I realize you work at one, but I think maybe that is one of the problems! You are obviously very intelligent, insightful, and many other positive things and I think you really need to channel your energies in something else. You are forcing all your smiles, and fooling around, and really would rather be somewheres else. Please try to take your tremendous talents and put them to better use! I would love to see that as I am sure many of your followers would. Only because I care so much, even though I do not know you. Gma Liz.
this is super irritating. do i write to people and tell them how i would like them to live their lives? writing is cathartic don’t read into it so much and literally. my life is more than my blog, i censor it and keep a lot private so don’t worry and don’t get on my case for being emo holy shit, this is why i dont blog my feelings cos then 500 self-proclaimed therapists come a-knocking. im in my twenties and i live in a city. everyone drinks. everyone is sad. everyone goes out at nite. i choose to glamourize the bar scene because to me its dark side is appealing and beautiful. this is my kerouac flaw. if you want me to go back to being a housewife blogging about food all the time im sorry but that shit is over. i find your email to be selfish. i understand the concern but really, way to piss me off.
and it’s CENTS.
i love to be self-indulgent while alone and blast out infinite sadnesses. it doesn’t mean i am a cutter and it doesn’t mean i want to die. get over it i am not going to climb a mountain of success just to make YOU feel better. i’m fine under-achieving for now and being around people again, whether in bars or crack dens, i spent the last four months isolated in a stressful shitty private/public rebound relationship so who the fuck are you to tell me what to do next or which direction to go? you know which direction YOU can go? the fuck off my blog and stop emailing me, we aren’t friends. learn some boundaries.
people have delved into my life e-fucking-nough, fil’s also. we aren’t your little sims you can control or have some sort of influence on so get over yourself asshole.
WOW, did not expect such an angry response! I assure you that was not my intention! I apologize, I will remember to remember that you only put certain things out there and not to read so much into it. I certainly was not trying to be a therapist, I just want you to be happy. I apologize again…
thats ok. you maybe should have thought this through more before emailing it. i blogged it anyway to make an example of you cos i get this kind of shit all the time, dont take it personally. i certainly dont.
here is another example of, i don’t know what. many people i guess really want fil and i to be together again, our relationship gave you hope maybe?
nk: Where do you bartend?
me: The central
By the victory
nk: Cool beans.
Is it jazz-dominant in terms of music?
I remember it used to be.
PS – You are looking very good these days. You look happy, too.
Nice to see you buzzing around the city, out of the ‘burbs.
me: Oh thanks
nk: Had to take a bit of a break from reading you. I got emo after reading about your split.
But whatever. Just wanted to tell you you look cute.
me: Woah really
Emo over missing fil
We r friends again
nk: Emo over I don’t know.
But glad you’re friends.
me: Weird all the emotional reactions over us
So much projection
nk: I’ll be honest. I wasn’t that emotional. But the break was probably a good thing. Are you still in the annex?
nk: OK. Goodnight. Will drop by someday.
: )
xo
me: Sorry out when I shouldn’t be
i think it’s just painful to watch me right now in my alleged butterfly stage. naturally, fil was a mess after we split and i carried along seemingly fine, still showing a brave front cos i felt obligated to for this stupid mental illness blog. but now that i am coming undone and brave enough to show it, people can’t handle it. he was showing and sharing all of his pain while i kept mum as much as possible until i broke silence, then the globe article came out, then many other articles came out.
so basically, i cannot win here. ever. damned if i do, damned if i don’t. simply just damned. i get judged for any and every fucking thing i say, do, or wear, right down to my fingernails. i’m not saying it’s awful i’m just saying, holy shit, you guys are relentless.
Well thanks for putting my apology up there too! You really did blast me. And ofcourse it is cents not sense, I know better than that….guess I really was not thinking!
As I have three grown children of my own perhaps I was seeing it from my past experiences with them, two suffer from depression and one of them is still searching for his way in life. Again, I only want good things for you and meant well…
i think im doing pretty good with where i am presently and i am learning more and more about myself every day. you cannot learn under stagnant circumstances. i get enough unsolicited advice from my mother. i dont need it from strangers now too.
thanks, but no thanks.
UPDATE: ok sorry i am less angry now but fully embarrassed. don’t write to me when i am premenstrual, which is always. so basically, just don’t write to me haha.
this is how i found out my grandma died a few years ago. harsh, a little. i had left my phone at home this ONE nite, the only time ever. we went to see dave chappelle at massey hall and i assumed we’d get hassled over cameras and phones. stupid in hindsight like, i bet i was the only idiot who left their phone at home. after the show we went to the shoe for awhile. i got home to this before checking voicemail, didn’t have the heart to delete it. i have a little morbid to my spirit i suppose. for some reason this text comforted me. not knowing how to delete all texts to cleanse my inbox made it so i didn’t have to delete it. every so often i’d stare at it and show it to whoever i was with at the time. i gave this phone to melodie when my blackberry arrived and felt the need to take a picture of it before she deleted everything.
i like to think that while i was laughing at dave chappelle in the flesh, i dunno, my grandma woulda been down with that?
i was going to chuck this in a post with a whole bunch of typical crazy random pictures and captions but maybe it should stand alone.
i’ll scour my inbox for stupid messages i sent last nite while i barflied alone at mitzi’s. mel and lucas left earlier and allison bailed cos of the blizzard and shitty roads, they wanted to wait with me but i said no i wanted to be alone and felt content about it. there should be a bar show-up/drop-off service, it would help a lot of agoraphobic people out quite a bit. well i guess there is, it’s called roommates. the idea of walking into a place alone is frightening. i analyze my surroundings way too much and then i get mysterious in my head and think i should just go home and drunk write but no it’s better to be out amongst the living as i spend far too much time in non-reality as is, why rush home to write about the hour i was away from home?
i moved to the bar to get a better look at the band that was pretty good last nite and bumped into lindsey and her friends which was nice, we were both pretty laced. she invited me over to their (friend’s) place around the corner, it was fun. total characters. vodka was ordered. i didn’t drink much of it cos i didn’t need to. i hated myself for staying out so late but figured i need to do something aside from working and sleeping and blogging all the time. i was given a manicure, the shittiest goriest one ever, but kinda looked nice? one hand was camo easter egg spotted the other hand was a terrible french manicure by dom, who was competing with stuart. they both lost but i said they were both really good. any guy willing to hold my hand and paint my nails wins right?
took it off before i left.
lindsey went lady gaga on us. everyone busted out a nice little costume change, i liked these people. ian said he was the luckiest man alive when speaking about his girlfriend. they are going to panama soon.
urg lost some of this post cos we lost power. it’s back now so i won’t freeze to death.
Never read the book. Who is the chick interest again? I want to see it. I feel so removed from cinema and I hate that yet I’m happier in my life, somewhat having one, being less dependent on television meanwhile I am typing into a calculator phone in a bar surrounded by people.
