so blonde it’s offensive. disgusting. i feel sorry for everyone who has to look at it. you have to prepare yourself for the attention holy fuck porno hair. ridiculous. have overheard several men’s comments about it, i know, so bizarre. i don’t feel like a blond person but am slightly enjoying the shift in reactions it feels obnoxious to go on about it. everyone assumes i am obnoxious so i may as well go ahead and fill the part no? this blog is the only place i can exercise it most freely so fuck it and in real life i am a meek nervous mouse with manners a plenty. whatever i’m the subject here and now i have retarded hair. too bad my personality ruins everything and those are the people i feel sorry for most of all in this equation as they see a flash of yellow and i assume make assumptions in their head, then open goes my mouth and ugh why does that girl sound like a dump truck going through a nitroglycerin plant? blonds don’t sound like that. blonds are supposed to be sunny californian dough heads. pretty much. so in summation, you’re welcome for fuckin’ with your (head) game you docile little lambs. the next phase is to go more natural golden and we no longer have to lift any colour aside from the brassy that’s left over, can’t go at it all at once otherwise my hair will fry. can you believe that i was fully black just last july?
HOMELESS CHIC. melodie says i’m not trendy (like a hipster) but i have my own thing going on. how would you classify my style? is it its own thing or is it easily comparable? i think for the most part it’s 10% trying and 90% whatever i see first and BAM so embarrassed you invited me along girl. i’m often wearing at least 15 different colours at once. otherwise it’s everything matches too much. or accidental mess fusion somehow comes together? basically i have no idea what to wear right now and i fear i’m bordering putting something absolutely fab or absolutely fug together. red tights should be a no today, yeah?
i started out this post intending to evasively send a message to some valentines i didn’t want knowing were my valentines, were my, anythings, but then i started talking about myself again LOOK OUT!
I don’t know what you’re looking for
you haven’t found it baby, that’s for sure
You rip me up you spread me all around
in the dust of the deed of time
And this is not a case of lust, you see
it’s not a matter of you versus of me
It’s fine the way you want me on your own
but in the end it’s always me alone
And I’m losing my favourite game
you’re losing your mind again
I’m losing my baby
losing my favourite game
I only know what I’ve been working for
another you so I could love you more
I really thought that I could take you there
but my experiment is not getting us anywhere
I had a vision I could turn you right
a stupid mission and a lethal fight
I should have seen it when my hope was new
my heart is black and my body is blue
And I’m losing my favourite game
you’re losing your mind again
I’m losing my favourite game
I’ve tried but you’re still the same
I’m losing my baby
you’re losing a saviour and a saint
the bag before soared elegantly through the nite right into the bin but then i over-thought this one. cool effort. next time i’ll throw myself in after.
ryan bigge mentioned me in the star today. (we sort of used to hang out years ago, same crowd of people, what happened to everybody?) coincidentally, clem said i was the most famous poor person, recently. fuck that! basically, i give away way too much free content and i’m tired of hearing about it. i’m going to have to start doing something about that. CASH IS KING. i need a regular column so i can bring you guys over there once a week to read something a little more legible and then that publication can benefit from my serious traffic. deal? nice doing business with future you.
i’m a giant pig. oh, mistletoe. i’m masking an anxiety attack in this photo.
what? why do cats stare at you like you’re the idiot? THEY’RE THE ONES PERCHED ON A FUCKING GARAGE.
loving the passive aggressive tag fights all over reverb. oh look a harajuku girl.
brennen demelo always has the best magazines to cruise through.
rose is my hair girl. i will never cheat on you again. well maybe only with myself.
bar fly. more like BARF LY. kidding kidding. bet you little wieners would love to hear all about this shit eh? muahaha. OMG CALL NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC.
so so greasy last nite was such an all over steam room experience. thankfully i always bring multiple shirts to change into.
have to go as long as possible without washing it.
these kids made it for last call. i thought french club was fridays?
omg know parking shut up pretentious gay loser. (actually it’s funny i like it).
alright gorgeous town here i come. i’ve been listening to blur baked for so long my right foot is numb (honest injun position). lucas made us v day breakfast. a year ago today i was engaged. we’re better people for it now though i can’t help but feel like a total piece of shit most of the time.
oh yeah totally forgot the reason for the blur mention. i was a super fan from grade 7 til i lost my viginity (15) so if you can tell me what my blur-related nickname was i will mail you a surprise box of junk. first correct answer wins!
after/before hair. i sat in a salon chair for houuuurs today.
many great faces came in to visit old raymbo tonite it was super enjoyable. kamilla got two phone numbers. i got one last nite (hey dude). teppei and i discussed how we have adrenaline pumping when we get off work and go home. my mind goes a million miles a minute it takes at least an hour to slightly come down. i feel like how axel rose feels. wait was that axel rose? but anyway lets pretend that’s who i’m thinking of. so i feel like axel rose after a g’n’r concert except um yeah i can’t finish this joke but know this, lucas and melodie are hangin’ in my room right now havin’ brews and lucas at the exact same time said axel rose as i typed it i can’t be bothered to ask what the fuck he was talking about i don’t want to have to type AXEL ROSE one more time. uggggggggh. now mel wants to go as slash/axel for halloween. why not? i already look like brett michaels anyway. not so much of a stretch after that.
my laptop power cord got yanked out, laptop died, they made fun of me, i thought ok if this shit is deleted it’s a sign. it wasn’t. so here you go goodnite.
it’s funny when i do headcase posts all the headcases come out to hang, it’s rewarding. that’s a sure way to pull in some traffic. BLOG YOUR FEEEELINGS. there’s many things i want to address in the comments but haven’t had the time. it’s frustrating reading comments thru my blackberry and not being able to react other than to just publish and file away for later but i guess you guys can help me out in that department and talk amongst yourselves.
have a hair appt later today thank fuck there’s just no way around looking greasy when you have metre-long roots. i worked the upstairs bar last nite, kinda quiet up there. good for french practising as friday is french club nite. i stomped on one of these guy’s feet once accidentally, he flirtily pretended it hurt so i played along and proclaimed en-croy-a-bluh! in my least shittiest faux francophone accent and i think i pulled it off as an awed hush tidal wave of silence overcame the frenchies and it was like the sun of a million boners setting for miles and miles amongst them. oh la la elle parle français?
oh yeah the top left pic of me on the shag rug is kind of a hat tip to a photo jamie took of me years ago when i was 19 i’ll go scare it up. i start a lot of conversations with when i was 19. i packed a lot of bullshit into that formative year. i did. here‘s the photo, dunno why i can’t right click it, cool settings jamie.
let 2010 be the year of poor choices. or, just choices period. i have to learn how to get out of my head a little better and fall down a bit. i’ve been trying hard (kinda bullshit) for too long so now i’m just going to lighten up.
lately we’ve been discussing how much we hate ourselves for pissing away our talents. being lazy. pissing away talent is such a fucking luxury and it’s awful. depression is a luxury too. more on that later though. think about how many people who would die to be where you are right now. you do whatever you can to make it here then you arrive and just sit around on your ass for too long. i’m shaking my head right now about it. when i was 19 and fucking up for my first time i said a book must come out of all this or it’s all for naught. what a giant waste of my life but a book can remedy it all. now here i am again with new city eyes some-odd eight years later beating my dead horse. i better not blow it again.
my greatest regret in life is allowing my laziness to get in the way of everything. my outright avoidance of putting in the slightest extra bit of effort into anything i do. i know i should be achieving and accomplishing more and i hate myself for not. for letting people get in the way of my life, for focusing on them instead of myself because if i focus on myself then i’m forced to look at myself and that’s the last thing i want to do. i spend way more time than i ought to worrying about things that will never happen.
here’s a saying i learned a long time ago: if you can do something about a situation, there is no sense in worrying about it but, if there is nothing that can be done about the situation, worrying will also do you no good. so don’t worry.
last weekend at work a group of guys were ordering tequila shots and the leader of the pack says oh wait one more for GORGEOUS GEORGE so i turn around and turns out gorgeous george is the opposite of gorgeous. so oppositely gorgeous he’s gorgeous, and gorgeous george was spoken with an aussie accent so it sounded like butter in my ears. it was perfect.
from now on i’m going to wrap up blog posts with stupid unrelated stories.
this is about as painful as watching your parents figure out electronic mail for the first time. ok now i am figuring out how to use this beast. must turn off fb notifications.
so smart, i should like, totally be a blogger or something.
merkley, everyone who visits raymiland loves your book.
lamb poutine at mitzi’s sister. shall be haunting that scene quite a bit. our waiter was pretty great. i had to pay debit and was waterfall sorrying about it (we hate debit at our work i don’t know why exactly though) and he’s like it’s ok not a problem then i said i’m a chronic apologizer he said to try not apologizing for a day. i wonder why i do that. insecurity probably. definitely.
i have missed my friends dearly.
roots appointment for the weekend awwright.
flattering moments in time.
meet melodie. more importantly, meet melodie’s amazing shirt.
box of (johnny) cash nite and we all fell in love. drummer plays on a massive box. there is no actual box of money, slightly misleading. i stared holes through the singer’s head and pretended i was him in mine.
lucas makes encouraging little yip yip noises when he’s enjoying the music he hears.
the chick at poor john’s asked if melodie and i were sisters. do you see it?
yesterday i was a greasy mess instead of just a mess. i’m writing a guide to being a dirtbag princess. basically, shower never. melodie looks super fierce. she used to model. i asked her for some posing tips and she said that she was just about to ask me the same thing.
dropped in on narwhal to try and bump into kristin. it’s always so awkward inquiring about her or steve to their employees. hi is kristin here? no? uh ok um, cool. socially awkwardly insane.
gorgeous day for a stroll ‘cross the city. a little too keener on the no-toque wearing though (have a massive ear/headache now). it didn’t mesh with my bun head. or my pink heart glasses. last nite fluorescent orange seemed like a good idea.
lured into a shoe store by its 50% off sign. i need work shoes. they didn’t have my size in these. SIGHZE.
a friendship was made only to be hastily severed. i got some mocassins. size 9. i’m a size 8. bought insoles. final sale. i have regrets a little. the shoes match my purse way too much plus every single chick in the city owns them already.
so pretentious i love it.
knees are killing from slamming the pavement. went to the pharmacy to exchange some way too orange makeup and i forgot my shoes on the counter, had to go back. then some guy on my street tried to pick me up. he was a little too sketchy for my liking. asked if i was named brinn. um nice made up name. he lives a few houses up can’t wait to not run into him again soon.