You had me at London Fog. Brain fogs. My favourite places. I frequented this coffee shop every morning when he’d go to work then sit and blog three times daily in our apt on Lakeshore. I had a lot of traffic, and still. It is addictive. Like being alone and thinking about shit you did when you weren’t. This corner was my muse. It was before we got that condo on St. George. You never did get to see the balcony, the location too easily known. I knew every lush in this town almost ten years ago. I have neat, charming stories.
The next chapter.
Dear blog awards folks. My arse in these pants got in to the New York Times (online). That was my fourth time being linked by the NYT in 2012.
Look how juicy my ass is now five months later. One guy or two would look for reasons to troll me and used to say I had a flat ass. Nice try. I’m not getting in to details but genetically-speaking my ass is never ever going to sag or not qualify for bubble butt or “porno ass” a term I bandy about/invented. Got lotsa vouchers for that little insider tidbit yo.
Adore. Be adored.
Caramel. Way in to sugar. One crutch for another. A lover. A drug.
So I’m up for a few awards again (no big deal) this year and it’s jury-based decided (thank god) so I don’t have to beg you knuckleheads for votes and then wind up getting voted against by the other half of you who hate me/can’t quit me. My 3 categories areLifetime Achievement Award (no brainer there), Best Placeblog (contains local political/social/arts/community articles about a place) okay? lol I’ll take that award too fine and then Best General Interest Weblog for people whom I guess are just generally interested in my blog? Psyche! “for weblogs that cover a range of topics”. I’m stoked to be nominated and I hope I win one of these things, especially the lifetime one because I can’t quit blogging til I get a title like that. So I guess we just wait and see what happens and I gotta continue blogging in the interim to prove my consistent excellence in all things of general interest, lifetime achievement plus places, look there’s a place lets blog it!
Now why do I deserve awards? Specifically the lifetime achievement award? Oh, just a little thing called TWELVE YEARS of doing the shit is why. Now here are some photos of me being in love with myself from last week I have to go work out meow. Probably tan afterward then write my piece for playboy in time to go out with the ladies tonight who don’t know it yet but I’m probably bailing. Later on I might find some time to complain/brag about my life if you are lucky.
DM of the day, “Can I buy dirty panties off u for $20 each”.
Hey guys. Welcome back. It’s great to be here. I’ve had a wonderful last few days.
Ready for this?
Nate and I have been meaning to collaborate for a long time now he is my e-buddy hardcore since I slipped through the cracks. We talk all the goddamn time and since I well, I should shut my yapper actually because I am writing about him for these bros ===> so with what I am not using for that mega piece I’ll just blog now. I must say though that I am muchos stoked.
I went cray at winners on a ton of black gear. That is my look until I am fit again. That’s an rcva shirt, did I spell it right? Anyway street cred.
I got one of those phone cases you can drop off a building that was smart of me.
Guys should I start posting newds again j/k. I was posting this above photo to just “be funny” and go hey what do you think about this??? All Sarah Silverman like you know. Forgive me as I am half blasted on scotch at the moment. Saw Jack Reacher. Ate pita pit. Bowled. Fish market oysters. Dranks. Fun Sunday! More pics of it tomorrow all proper blog like. I even convinced an apple owner (iphone) that galaxy was better when he saw my phone in action! That never happens to me. We won guys, we won yay!
But omg do I love scotch is your face supposed to be on fire like this cos I like it. It’s super beet red boy am I ever gonna sleep tonight. I’m at that Dysthymic state of being when your dreams are more interesting and involved than your waking life I’d call this my Beatles and the Maharishi phase. Quiet, reflective. Jesus I just googled Dysthymic — “a depressive mood disorder characterized by a chronic course and an insidious onset.” GREAT! Well I’ll be. (southern drawl). My mother keeps a facebook photo album entitled the winter of my discontent. I wonder which of us will walk in to the river first with that attitude.
Blaha. Loved this one. Hated my face. MS PAINT COMPROMISE THROW-DOWN SUCK IT!!!!!!!
Fuck it dude lets go bowling. That, we did. Alright it’s late and I gotta pretend to be asleep now.
Collective sigh of relief. Man was my other phone uber-annoying I could not work like that I don’t know how I ever did. I wanted to throw it in to the fucking sun on so many occasions. Anyway lets hope my new one doesn’t make me kill myself over data-over usage and that everything works out for the best no problem apparently I have mad credits on my account I’ve never applied to anything so with that I can work out a good plan. I have a question though how do I save my own instagram photos? Or email them when I make them? There’s still so much to learn about my phone, the guy was like this phone is better than the Iphone 5, by far and it’s cheaper. Okay then. So far so good. Too bad he was kind of a dick though, bad custy service grounds for a I am leaving Rogers for Bell flip-out/new phone manipulation.
That’s the one. It’s pretty big. I chose it in white. I really have nothing else to talk about other than boring nonsense as I’ve been sick all weekend long and did nothing. I am becoming progressively more and more stir crazy thanks to winter + sick + suburbs. I am casually starting to look for a place to rent downtown finally so lemme know if you know of anything. This is like my personal craigslist website what else do I need while I’m at it are we out of milk? Newp. Okay hi, happy Sunday.
Thank god my friend is coming to town today to eat drink putt movie whatever anything hang. Allow me to paint a partial picture of my charming little life now. It reminds me a little bit of my time spent living in Maine in the winter. When we go to the supermarket it’s like walking in to quicksand, everyone is slow, everything takes so long the cashiers are the slowest moving older chicks ever. I’d be employee of the year if I had a lane there swiping shit at lightning speed don’t worry this is not ever going to fucking happen but honestly how can you be so goddamn slow and not just you even, you, you, that lane over there, holy crap that one has the longest line ever. My dad, my brother and I will all choose separate lanes and shoot each other psycho telepathic eyes bugging out incredulously frustrated facial expressions like, I know, yes, yes, I know this is actually happening we’ve been standing here silently for 20 minutes now. It doesn’t help either that the supermarket is connected to the liquor store, my favourite store in all of Borington fuck it I should get a job there ahha. I only crave the social aspect and this is when I am reminded of Maine because this happened there too. As city folk operating at city pace you leave all that shit behind and go live on the coast with stupid people, sorry, simple people. Who live without irony or snarky jokes about fashion and you find yourself wanting to chat one up while you buy your groceries because you haven’t opened your mouth in hours to talk to anyone all day and the cashier just stares blankly at you like a zombie. Some people don’t have enough marbles rolling around upstairs for small talk, or they’re too shy to be chatty. It’s just not in them to talk to you like someone at Queen video would with way too much personality and out-funnying you I swear to god this one time at brunch with our waitress I was like you are going to have to stop having an answer for everything I fucking say I am trying to just get my order placed here please but I still mega-miss that shit and appreciate it I feel like I’ve had a lobotomy since being out here.
It is really super easy to pare down your life once you leave the bustling city but please keep inviting me to things to lure me back I mean it. At first you go through this bailing/I don’t wanna phase. It gets harder to go back or when you do you stay for a few days go on some dates maybe and see your pals party hardy rinse and repeat. It’s harder to organize though that has always been my problem.
Okay I have to shower now! Keep it real homies. Your pal Raymi.
I feel as if I don’t fucking exist right now! And no not in the existential identity-crisis sense it’s just because my phone has finally bit the dust. There’s a term (several I’d imagine) attributed to this new world phenomena of Dude where’s my phone? actually, which makes me smirk because I find phone-dependent people to be flakey hollow-headed twerps in need of constant gratification, attention and connection. It’s a hallmark of mental shit going on and insecurity if you can’t just stand there in a room, in the crowd and meet everyone in the eye but instead tweeting, instagramming and facebooking the night away like yo all of your friends are right here right now but I just have a business to run and calls to make, phone companies to scream at a package to get at. The keys to the city are in my voicemail which gets texted out phonetically to me that I can read but these texts come in to me in spanglish sometimes then a phone number which I never call until I hear the entire voicemail. I fucking HATE talking to people in the day, it’s a drag. If I could communicate by type for forever then I would. I don’t like breaking my creative bubble. Mindus interruptus is too distracting and I will go flit off to do something else, waste 3 hours on twitter, I dunno what the hell I actually do to kill time since Borington actually haha.
I realize that my life right now is totally not working. Commuting is exhausting. I used to come out here ironically for a week at a time every so often when I was living at Adventurehouse. All irony is lost now. It’s not that bad but it’s the boredom that kills you and leads to all other problems. In Toronto if I got this bored I’d go for a run (it’s winter, I don’t run in winter) or just go out and see someone, walk somewhere, get some errands done. My phone being broken is an added buzzkill and you know I have had some nice phone conversations while being out here, I use it more that’s why it’s ‘sploded to shit and my phone bills are higher because again more use now whereas in the city I dunno you just see people more often collectively and then you’re caught up.
I am getting a lot more writing done otherwise than I was before. But it is hard to be inspired by suburbia. But then not. The Pearl Jam thing I watched on tv last night was pretty awesome likewise the Annie Leibovitz on TVO.
I’m beginning to lose track of the days of the week (though we can also blame the month of Christmas for that). The writer/brand ambassador lifestyle outright encourages it. Here I am sitting in a tin can floating in outerspace. I am probably maybe a little bit Jack Nicholson in the Shining style right now but I’m not perturbed about it because I saw Eddie Vedder go crazy on multi-stages and everybody dancing right along with him and that is how a writer should write just write.
You know what it is I’ve let all my normal comforts craves and necessities just fall away. My camera, busted. It is ingrained in me to document so I relied on my awful phone until it too finally could no longer deliver and my phone, my tweet ADD best friend til the end if I can’t document in photos I can in thoughts but now I can’t do that when I’m lying on the couch watching tv. Guys I have hyper-active crazy genius person thoughts that I have to get out, creative compulsions or I just die of boredom. I also can’t instagram party with anyone. I am excluded. I don’t exist. This is the actual case. In my field you have to multi-platform-surf. I barely blog too didja notice that too so, surf? I’m at the beach bro waving to you from shore.
Blogging is a dying art. I am one of the last of the greats and I am barely keeping the dream alive. Kay no, I am keeping the dream alive if that dream is watch me say kinda funny shit all day long every day for as long as I can until maybe someone hires me to write for them some more then yes, AH ah ah ah stayin alive, stayin’ alive.
Long story short I am finally going to get an iphone because it will be two birds one stoner phone/camera sorted out. What the hell do I even spend my money on anyway (restaurants/booze) what a waste I don’t even buy clothes and I just piss it away so anyway yeah time to get my ass in gear this year and by my 30th birthday I expect to be a tanned svelte skeleton beacon of health and beauty.
My hair needs a treatment too while I’m at it with all the things pissing me off presently.
Oh and I am totally sick again so blog delirium post excuse deux. My mom had this cold too already she said she thought she was hungover but nope, it’s a cold. I said the same exact thing too lol. But boo sick wahh. TGIF.
Should I do one of those year end posts? Do I even have anything to say to you guys (always) anyway? Did I learn anything worthwhile this year to warrant one of these things? Who even am I anymore and what’s next? There’s lots of pressure on bloggers to deliver, to have all these grand wisdoms (bordering on delusions) about life and lessons and I know I have my Little Raymis who look to me for guidance but when I clam up it’s like eeeeh now what? This year has truly been transitional for me. I’ve learned that people only want to know the dirty gossip, the deets. They like to see heroes fall and they love to talk shit. I’ve learned that I’ve spent the last 12 years of my life as a sort of performance artist and I put myself last way too fucking much. I am a pleaser at heart and I will go the distance for people who don’t deserve it just to see it through if anything comes back to me. It doesn’t. Well, maybe. I made my mark over-sharing and now I am afraid to. Funny that. I find that I am good at it, unraveling my Craymi stories behind the scenes delights my friends, frights them. I had a stressful month, couple, several of them. Lots of bad luck it has been hard keeping my head above water to be honest. Someone almost died and keeping that a secret has been toxic if I said who they’d lose their mind but I hope that was a wake up call. Someone lost their job and that affected everybody, everyone is crabby and in each other’s way drinking a lot to deal what I have learned is when it’s bad, it gets worse and keeping a brave face for the internet throughout has been trying. I feel like everyone goes through some shit it’s just a part of life but when you can’t see the end of the tunnel it does get pretty suffocating and for it all to go down in the winter, ultra challenging. Being stressed out of my mind made my period wicked late. I took three tests, all negz results obvi but yet the paranoia cycle frenzy that goes on in a woman’s head is unstoppable. Plus I’ve been eating like crazy. I figured it was just stress and lots of sadness but each day that passed it was like what’s wrong with me bro? Then I’m all, what had happened was I probably drank away my fertility for sure, for certain. Or I changed women circle cycles, chalked it up to cosmic witchery. The amount of times I cupped my breasts to decipher if they were a) fat girl breasts b) pregnant girl breasts or c) premenstrual breasts is uncountable. Being bloated forever when I am vain as fuck hasn’t been fun either and is at root the control board for all of my moods if I am body unhappy then you best believe I am upset. Plus no one even blasted in me TMI sorry but I’m saying whatever I want from now on this thing so deal anyone who is related to me. I’m tired of being afraid of speaking my mind, very tired. No matter how many bitches (and trust me there’s lots) talk shit about me on Christmas night in a bar I haven’t walked in to in over a year thus successfully destroying a would-be relationship for me. Friends, what I have learned this year is that people want to see your ruination. They love it. And after the year that I’ve had it’s like how dare they. I’m sure I have just as much dirt on these horrid women too but moving on I got my period today so I’m back baby. Kim Kardashian gets knocked up by Kanye, Raymi gets her period. Best day ever.
So, I put my wants and needy needs on the back burner the last little while. Not selflessly, just more so in a resigned fashion and going with the flow. Life is short but you shouldn’t rush things or flee all the time. You should face your demons and this is the difficult part. Acceptance. Accepting that you’ve been doing it wrong and it’s time to stop. The infuriating thing for me is the talk. I actually lead a pretty boring simple life these days IMO so making up lies about me is super hurtful. I don’t do that to people. I forget my own infamy sometimes I see myself as some quiet old man feeding ducks from a bench with Christopher Walken pants hiked up to my tits. I am not that guy. I am Raymi the Minx with an illustrious past and reputation and Toronto is a small-ass town and people like having me out of it. People going out of their way to sabotage me is a bitter pill I’d like not to ever have swallow again. But I will, and that’s that.
If you guys are going to learn anything this year, please for me make it that you drop the ‘s’ from anyway because anyways is not a fucking word. I hate hearing you say it and secretly suffer your stupidity. It’s all I ask for now, 2013 lets do this.
