how do you follow a post like that? uh normalcy normalcy! bah.

for the billionth time, weed helps.

canned wine.

felt completely mentally exhausted yesterday, put through the ringer. lamest statement ever, second half of that last sentence. cliché pile. lets invite the entire town to the trainwreck.

and so halloween evening i was treated to a taste of class, burlington style. on our way to bar 2 this car of four attempted to drag race us at some lights, cool. minors, assumed, why else would you be riding around halloween nite in a car if you were old enough to get into a bar? you wouldn’t be is the case, you’d be partying. anyway, as we were going on ahead to park safely making passage for the other car to speed away one (putrid looking angry nerd) guy in the back screamed at dave NICE WIG YOU FUCKING LOSER. dave thinks he said faggot. i heard loser. no matter, crazy rage shakes took hold and i said can we do something about this right fucking now!? so we peeled out of the parking lot in pursuit for awhile but they were gone. SO so mad. who does that? that guy deserves a curb-stomping and i’m certain if he lips off strangers on the regular, someday he shall be gifted by one. it was the way he said it, the look on his face, so certain, so disgusting. ugh. plus acne and bad hair, and he wasn’t riding shotgun so we know the pecking order of his social circle. desperation is not a hot look.

act two. in bar, meet some pals, there’s a back private party going on we get in on, realise we’re pretty plastered but oh my fuck they do it differently here. everyone is wrecked, i’m kinda diggin’ on it but also a little taken aback. ps. my nickname is toronto by the by haha. we go to the pool table near the back just to, do something? we get to playing, then it’s my go (stripes) and there’s a table tucked in the corner with some surly folk haulin’ drinks. one thing here is people are ready to throw down at the drop of a hat, are actually looking to do so. this ain’t your hipster pretend you don’t see one another scene which you don’t realise you’re fond of (though while immersed in it, hugely HUGELY annoying) until you hit “downtown” burlington. this scene’s number one priority is YES i saw you and i saw that you saw that i saw you, now what the fuck do you want to do about it? everyone in costume adds an extra element of bizarro. ps. for the record i LOVE that “i know that you know that i know…” saying. typing it is very rewarding. you feel like you invented comedy.

anyway, my shot is up and it’s one of those have to shove the pool cue way out in to someone’s personal space shots. this girl, or shrek as i might say, (not dressed as, just unfortunately shaped as such) in a terrible platinum blond bob wig is sitting on a high chair seat watching my uncomfortable situation. there’s also an empty seat right beside her but she’s choosing purposely to stay put, jack and coke in-hand, exactly in my way. i give this scenario two second’s worth of patience then i purposely flub the shot, put cue down on the table and commence knocking all the balls into their pockets by hand. shrek blechs out at me AW SOMEONE GOT UPSET. i ignore, continue over to my pint and other table casually, gingerly, librarianly. shrek says YOU COULD HAVE JUST ASKED ME TO MOVE. i make my way around the pool table to get the rest of the balls in, put my arms in the air and say I THOUGHT IT WAS PRETTY OBVIOUS (in my most effective you are so beneath me tone of voice, it’s a pretty good one ask my brother or anyone who knows me) in normal people maturity manners land, it is. you just move and carry on with your own shit. not here. then some other unintelligible shit was uttered in my direction, the air got a little tense. i was still pissed about the piece of shit from the car prior to this wonderful scene plus way too blasted to deal so we chugged then split once the proper amount of standing there making everyone as uncomfortable as possible time was allocated.

if you choose the table by the pool table intended for pool sharks, you are not allowed to be annoyed if someone playing pool gets in your way a little. that’s kind of the fucking rule and you are no exception, aside from being exceptionally white trash. why does crazy follow me, do i bring it on myself? am i deluded? i used to defend myself in saying it’s cos you live in a city and go out a lot, the probability of more and more shitty scenarios is higher and likelier but now i’m beginning to wonder. i never initiate aggression with others is what i’m saying. is it my vibe, my look? what the hell.

oh and on my way in one genius girl says to me ARE YOU A NERD!? (librarian glasses) i was just like where am i what the fuck, how do you react to all of this? this change. everything. i told her um, yes? she was dressed as amy winehouse and holy moly what a mouth, what an incredibly loud belligerent wailing mouthpiece on’er. i kind of admired her.

maybe a little anti-climactic but i’m sure it’s only a little while til the next class-act reveals themselves.

in other news, the local mediterranean establishment continues to offer up the most colourful and amusing of drunk people watching spots whence hangover dining.

also don’t forget tonight to nominate my blog for the 2009 weblog awards if you want to help motivate me to continue on the coarse of steering this shit show ship. i took it last year for best diarrheaist. i feel like the last year i did a pretty good run of things, yeah? pretty on par and consistent. also hello, how could you say no to this little elf?

that’s what greasy write-off day hair looks like. this picture is so fucking stupid i am making it my new blogger profile picture. i might even put it up there where the welcoming i am a pretty girl with an internet website sidebar photo is supposed to be. WELCOME MUCH. i title this image the weed grinch: comes over, gets high, eats all your candy, talks mad shit, makes you laugh so hard you die then steals all your dvds.

(ps. needing a volunteer makeup artist to paint this mug saturday for a video shoot. come be a part of something spectacular)

here are the categories you can nominate my blog in.

Q: You periodically post pictures of yourself in the nude. I’m guessing this attracts a certain audience that visits for this purpose and this purpose alone. If you stopped posting these pix, how many regular visitors to you suspect you’d lose?

A: i rarely post nudes my hits have not declined, my blog is more than my tits, granted a lot of retards read my blog but i see it my blog is for the retarded, it’s like a learning manual for life or an AA meeting that never ends.

source here too. apparently my phonin’ it in wasn’t as sneaky as had initially thought.

oh and perfect look what starts up all over again, you best be nominating me, starting tomorrow. thank you.

i found that i was drinking myself away. i was drinking my life away. i was unhappy and became more unhappy and i didn’t see that happiness was a possibility any longer. for me. all of this shouldn’t even be said but i’ve kind of had enough of the online needling attempts and assumptions, whathaveyou. being a depressed person from the start doesn’t exactly work in your favour when it comes to these things, these things as in going out every single nite, drinking, blogging about it, then doing it again and again and again and asking for a time out, begging for one even, a hey look at me what about me? us? it wasn’t anybody’s fault it was just our life and it quickly became habit. in the end i went out less, but on the nights i did i was not enjoying myself so i drank through it, still unhappy, not even drunk just drinking but still waking up hung everyday in a fog. that is not a life to live. that is not a life. on top of it everyone is always asking you the what’s up, how goes and inside you are like, fuck all, what more do i need to give you when i have nothing for myself. here comes the self-loathing tell all piece of shit you’ve been waiting for.

many have overstepped boundaries here, have too sooned some shit. not cool. five years, think about it. that’s not your shit, that’s mine.

do you want to know the honest truth? i became ornamental and allowed it. i became alone and it felt normal. i gave up on myself, on being myself. i became callous. i forgot what romance was, passion. it got lost. real world stresses took it away and in its place we put booze and companionship and familiarity. thought we’d have the rest of our lives to work it out, he did. he feels that was such a gaff, and i agree. i said (and am saying way too much now) you are going to lose me and not even notice. the last two weeks of it, personal shit (though there was always something), were very fucking hard on the both of us, for two different reasons. the short of it is i could no longer tolerate being shut out emotionally, my spirit had had enough. i actually once daily said to myself the words i want to die. over-melodramatic words, that i meant, but i could never do that. but daily i felt it. i think i even said it to a few deaf ears. i know i did.

each day if i was not feeling ok i would never let on, on my blog. smile, pull through, this is your life, make it look good. years flew by. i’m not saying there weren’t magical wonderful times too, i’m only saying i felt like in the end we were only together based purely on shallow reasons, jealousy, our looks. possessiveness. yes of course there is/was love there holding it all together but at the root of my unhappiness i looked at us and that’s what i saw. there are certain times in your life when you see things from one narrow perspective only and that’s what i saw from my murky perch.

we acted beautifully together for everyone else but us. while alone it was stretches of silences for hours in our own little online worlds until it became dark then we’d get ready and go out to whateverthefuck was going on that nite. most things i didn’t want to do, i often chose his wants over my own. there’s nothing worse than acting for people you don’t even want to hang out with when you don’t feel like hanging out. making other people’s priorities supercede that of your own until you get to a point when you don’t care about anything anymore.

i said i would be witch hunted for all this, how could i do such a thing? leave? i can’t possibly tell the truth about the truth, it’s nobody’s business but when it turns out to be like i was the catalyst, rules change. he said he didn’t care go ahead tell ‘em, he feels awful naturally. gutted. it’s a mutual feeling.

in short, you can’t change people, people can’t change and they don’t. they learn maybe, but at heart you cannot change your blueprint. fuck we tried alright. in the beginning i was so in lust in love i overlooked a few things, i know he did too. i am an extremely affectionate being but you wouldn’t know it if you knew me in the last five years.

this has been the hardest time in my life in a long time. i feel like i haven’t made an adult decision ever before this. people say it’s a brave move, some are wont to just remain in situations forever out of fear, fear of change. being bold.

everybody is asking WHAT HAPPENED. guy, there isn’t one concrete response to that, don’t be such a silly selfish fucker. many things happened over the expanse of five years. little things add up over time and then you just pop.

for the now what i’m doing is a, well rather trying to anyway, everything is hunky dory tra-la-la show must go on routine, blog-wise. it’s a mindfuck. blogging is supposed to be cathartic. we’re trying to do a no contact for a month thing, tried to before that. it’s fucking rough and tough and i feel so insane right now i’m trying to dope myself into a state of mental disappearance. i want to disappear from feeling this way. i want the ultimate relax pill.

i feel like i have lost an entire fucking city. and yes i gave the ring back.

here’s something from someone else.

maybe rather than blasting per se, it’s an opportunity to explain that the blog is built from your life – life as inspiration – but that in fact it’s a construct. truth in a fictional form. or a fiction that’s built from truth.

I blather!

i fit right in.

fully.

one vodka pump spray or three, please.

crazytown. i’ve been holed up in here all damn day. only leaving the room for more coffee and piss breaks.

this is holly. we have a lot in common. namely, big mouths.

comin’ up next on raymiCom – bar fights and car chases!

coegar74 has made a comment on my insane laugh:

do you find it weird that people find you so interesting that they watch little clips of your life?

yes and no. i find everything, especially the mundane, to be interesting. i love story telling and i think life is better shared. is best to be shared. viewed. but not scrutinized. i don’t know should i find it weird? i think i may be beyond half caring it just feels normal to me.

last nite got a taste of true b-town trash. twice over. wow. more on that later.

check how hot my mom is, yo.

pretty big in the insensitivity department there, jack-o.

contemplated way too many costume ideas. cher. victorian scullery maid. ninja. drunk christmas party slut. think i’ll stick with librarian/teacher. i shall carry an old book as a prop. dave‘s costume kills it, all my stuff obvs but i don’t have a beard so he takes it.

he’s left handed too though doesn’t play that way. not bringing out guitar so a flock of jocks can irritate me all nite long.

hangin’ with coug (mom) patrol tonite at a house party then to a pub? then maybe something with mara.

i know this song by heart, entire movie actually and it had (still is!) been a dream of mine to BE jack skellington in a play. i was scrooge once, i can pull off dude(s) pretty good. home alone as a kid/teen i’d recite the entire score of nightmare before christmas, speaking parts also and serenade the livingroom. COOL.

omg this is so much cooler!

ok marilyn now we can hang. getting ready song for the nite!

this dress is to be used in a video britt and i and others are going to be shooting next week starring this money-makin’ face. not supposed to reveal the dress whoops, it doesn’t exactly do up the back tho i am wearing an entire outfit beneath it so maybe we’re cool. i have a quarterback torso plus britt is six inches littler than me i am a whole other person on top of her.

i can be platinum by spring. haw.

gets donated, it sops up oil spills. who knew?

some other pics on my flickr.

rose you rule thanks for the sweet hair and the sweet afternoon (plus vino!) check her at brennen demelo. they’re movin’ on up they were at LG fashion week doin’ tricked out runway hairstyles. get in while you can.

now here i am, first roll of the game and i get a strike. all downhill from there. well actually i got a spare on my next go then i jumped in the air slipped on the super waxed floor and almost had a date with some smashed teeth. that’s caught on video too haha.

just like that eh. i am ever so delicate.

you are so right.

love this side bar diner set-up. i’m frontin’ here cos peeps be confused by the live raymi show. high chair is a nice touch.

not as bubblegum as had anticipated. next i’ll get a matte baby pink.

nails haven’t been this long in ages. how i’m fending off tearing them all out these days is beyond me but of course in saying this, today will be the day surely. who’s shirly?

it was league night so we had time to kill which was perfect as i wanted to take as many pictures as possible of this scene.

was wondering why so many people were pretending to give a shit about the big match. oh right, world series. who won?

in diagram 1 we have my signature knock-kneed post-roll stance, way graceful.

diagram two displays my THAT WAS BULLSHIT walk of shame face.

again.

one more time there.

dave is a competitive m’f’er. he hasn’t even seen the big lebowski, went over the line too so i couldn’t rip on that one. just wait.

a healthy meal was inhaled.

ponytail was spying hard on our table.

no idea why though.

can’t wait to go lighter in the hair, are you excited too?

really love this print as i can relate to that woman. ha. her figure is pure inspiration.

i love when places get it right. not going back til past ten next time (or until the big lebowski is viewed) when it’s day-glow bowling and not teeming with leaguers.

it hits you before you even enter.

reminds me of my old room at the crawford ghetto. i hung a huge pink silk piece of material over the window that i bought from a fabric store in little italy, it was essentially 80’s bridesmaid print, embossed flowers scattered all over it. had the exact same material for a bridesmaid dress but only in purple when i was 8. anyway it cast a soothing rose tint to the many hangovers spent in those coordinates.

on a bad day it makes you feel crazy.

modesty is for ugly people. not my quote.

meet the rat’s nest.

red things in the red room confuse the camera. that bear goes way back.

red cam.

draw the curtains, tidy your shit (not the bed), and you quickly feel sane again.

how’d this redundancy get overlooked?

i have to deal with my gym now, the fucking gym i stupidly joined. it’s so not funny that it’s funny.

and what the hell to be for halloween? might wear my victorian scullery maid costume or one of my ridiculous dresses. yes, i’ll go as a wizard.

business phones