Monthly Archives: February 2015

distraught and overlooked

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Hey there, happy Saturday. Boy what a week lemme tell ya okay I won’t.

A blogger is often faced with challenges like anybody else out there, but to blog these challenges? No fucking way. You blog around them which is exhausting but do-able but also not because you’re exhausted from dealing with “real life” matters so now why in the hell would I feel like spinning a whimsical post about fluff? Sometimes the two just don’t mix.

It’s funny that so much good is mixed in with the tough bits I feel like a jerk in ever complaining but I guess it is just my nature to focus on the bad. When everything’s right something’s wrong.

I met a very zen lady yesterday whom inadvertently ended up giving me a free counselling session. Part of my melodrama crying was based on sleep deprivation and a mild hangover and fatigue from the week (I do do a lot of things I just don’t tweet or blog every step of my day because I annoy people enough) but anyway I was kinda crying a bit and she turned into this talking self help book. She was SO nice in fact I was wondering if I was being hit on through all this niceness because she said a few things that seemed above and beyond. As well as said I was beautiful several times. I guess she really thought I was super broken or something when really I am just always emotional. I think when I cry sometimes it affects people because it’s like a clown crying which is the worst.

Like if you see your Dad cry or your Mom or like basically any fucking thing you just want to sit on a grenade for them?

I can tell a story (and have) about someone else crying in an emotional moment and start blubbering right there. I should be an actress perhaps I bet I could cry on command.

I hate crying though because I look like a melted cake when I do and once I start I can’t stop.

Where am I even going with all of this I think I am essentially just apologizing for not blogging again does anybody even care not really you can get your fill of me pretty much anywhere else in-between these Raymazing posts yeah? Yeah.

Today’s blog title came to me weeks and weeks ago. I was having a conversation with myself in a future interview about blogging, making a joke about not really making it after all these years. I really wish I wrote down the whole thought. I assumed this distraught and overlooked thing would be enough to lead me to the rest of it.

Oh right the nice lady, she told me to do yoga and take vitamin d because it helps with her depression big time. I need to do yoga to bring myself down she said because I am so hyper-active. I need to keep this hyper-activity flow going though because it burns calories. I just don’t think I can ever relax. Yoga is hard also, there I said it hahaha. I have made fun of everything on this planet that there is, including yoga, because when things get trendy that’s when my big mouth opens up. The last time my mom and I went to yoga we almost died. This was during a fat period of mine where I did zero exercise so yoga was basically like a marathon to me.

But yeah I wanna do yoga in a class and I want to be one of those girls with a mat and a bun and a re-usable bottle of water and be made of sunshine.

Speaking of sunshine, will have to add some blond highlights to my hair for Tuesday. You only get one chance to make a first impression. They like me. I said I’ll do it but it cannot damage my hair, is expensive, doesn’t happen over night and… I dunno I just thought I was going to be red for awhile. I have an extra box of this amazing dye if there’s any redheads out there right now, I can think of several actually.

But when they mentioned hair it made me switch nerves from body focus to hair and also my face focus. Am I ready? Yes. But am I also shitting myself too? A little. I know the camera lighting on my face was good so not that worried about that. The goal is to make you look good not like shit like another tv outlet kinda did. 1. I looked shittier then and my hair sure didn’t help but they don’t have flattering lights. I guess we soon shall see shan’t we.

Also there will be a private compare of my body then and now. It’s been a month and a half and I’ve lost 10lbs, maybe more. My period is over, ending, and all women love that time the most cos yer all flattened out. I was basically like can we screen test on a skinny day please? My last one was just before my period when you’re a fat water retaining bloated pig.

Can I just interrupt here and say that this is the journal of a female so if you have qualms over hearing TMI things about periods, feelings, other hormonal shit, please take a look at the colour and layout design of this blog (FLOWERS). End of argument.

I mean I am done talking about it and now we can move on to talking about cooler shit.

The closing party is tonight for comedy fest. I am debating just how much trouble I feel like getting up to tonight. My bf is away and will most definitely be being a gong show himself. Should I retaliate? I mean should I go out and do the thing that I wanted to do because that’s what I do? Or do I go to that 90’s party in the city I REALLY want to go to because a girl I admire and will be working with is throwing it does it make me look bad to not go? But I also dont want to do anything because I want to look fresh as a daisy on camera, why can’t I just go out and not be a bat out of hell? But my boyfriend is out what if I go nuts and send him a million psycho texts if I stay in?

That’s my mind guys now do you see why I am exhausted.

Comedy Fest is closer though and fun as hell as well as funny. I am such a comedy groupie. I think I annoyed like everybody there though that’s why I didn’t go again last night I was giving them a break from me. I always think that because it’s true. I feel eyes on me all the time. My mom is way better at tuning it out, I’m not. I’m like mom that woman is staring daggers into you and us because we are taking selfies. She tunes even ME out and I am left eyeballing some buzzard out of the corner of my eye who is 100% staring unabashedly. I think my problem is I interpret the looks as negative or critical when really they’re just staring at my Raymi outfit which stands out. Sometimes I look put together like a cute delicate slob I get it.

Shut-ins typically think the world revolves around them. The person staring at you is probably a loner too. In other countries and cultures you two would just speak, say hello. In Canada there are walls. We break them down with booze. One comedian only became nice once he had some rye. I didn’t want to sit at their table because I understand celebrity mentality, it’s supposed to be an honour. They have so much ego. But people like my mom don’t care about shit like that that’s why her stupid ex infiltrated Laurence Fishburne’s personal space at fashion week and snapped at him.

FUCKING IDIOT!

Here I am happily standing beside this bowl of fruit and a security guard thinking he’s just checking out these hot chicks nearby us but nope he was security for Laurence Fishburne, who was in the process of reaming out this guy.

I see Morpheus and I get my camera ready and then this PR chick (whom I also pissed off in a previous life) shoves her hand in mine blocking me and says hi I’m blah blah remember me, then I flashback to that brunch we had together and I was like oh right, oh great now my family is pissing you off AGAIN. Cool!

I am basically blacklisted from Toronto because I am caustic and naked.

Do I give a shit though? Nope. I feel like things are going to shift pretty quickly soon.

I call it the long con. hahaa

Wild sucked the life out of me but I would watch it again. I love women stuff right now, more and more. You know? We are an oppressed people if you think about it. I have a handful of fucking idiots in my facebook who always get us going when I post jezebel shit and I just want to take a flame thrower to all of their posessions. You know, HURT THEM but like, in a funny way. I’m not one of those feminists you have to hate. I’m the fun kind! Because we make it up as we go and we’re always right.

Now I must prepare for Boylord. My ironically named band because I am and always will be happily gender-confused and fine about that. I used to be president of the Parkdale Boys Club don’t forget. PBC WHAT

Bye now.

romantic ding dongs

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Hello hello. As promised and delivered my fancy night on Saturday. Make sure your socks have suspenders because they might get blown off by this post you never really know what crazy shit will come out of me.

Or the imagery! I apologize that this isn’t a picture of both of my hands but then who would hold the phone to take the picture? Trust me I have considered hiring someone to drop in and take a bath picture of both my hands. You think up all kinds of awesome shit in the bath it’s the best place to think which has the least pens.

Sidenote, hung out with my literary bruh yesterday, read him a ton of raymi shit and he’s motivated to start pushing me again I mean not to brag or anything but this writing you’re reading is really good.

If only there was more time and motivation and like a monkey helper to just do it all for me. So tired.

I feel like I will have a book soon though.

My literary agent is ten times more lazy than I am. We last left it at talking publishers ok nevermind. My buddy (different guy) is going to turn his blog into a book, it’s all time we did that.

In true Raymi fashion I was spinning him yarn after yarn yesterday and he said, have you written about this before? Why not? What’s so cringey about it? I mean I think I’ve done all these crazy fun things in life just so I could write about them eventually anyway.

In about a month I’ll be able to focus and map that out more. Am moving. Also new gig starts up next week.

Here I was gonna talk about my date and then I went back to Capital Me. Oops.

Had pho Friday. With extra veg and meat. I always manage to weasel the best bowl (a small), and never have to pay for the extras. Meanwhile the guy always gets the large, doesnt finish and it has more noodles and less meat veg or just as much as my small. Second time this has happened now.

I am probably part witch. Not evil but just very good at getting my way. Don’t worry, lots of bad luck shit happens to me too no one is that blessed.

Bag of green. No more cheating. Had chinese yesterday. Idiot. Every little thing counts at this point. I’m one of those gains 5lbs from thinking about salt body types. Luckily I am stressed out of my mind and generally unhappy which keeps the weight off.

My hair is very red today. I added some red to my conditioner yesterday (a trick and tip to keeping your red) also my girl at shoppers said the more red you add to your red makes it more red. The red build. I see. I see. Lots of cold showers too of course ugh.

and hot baths don’t forget.

Winter is boring so a lot of exercising happens. Diet as well as exercise and you will get results. It’s a no-brainer and it’s not starving it’s just reduction of nutrition (aka “food”) coupled by willpower and spiderman climbers. Dating a volleyball player (on the side of his real job) has perks. Though it can be annoying when you’re already huffing and puffing and you get corrected on shit you have no extra energy for and want to be in your own zone, then we get in an argument about it. That’s what trainers are like though, they motivate by irritating you and it’s not a good session unless you want to launch them into outerfuckingspace.

Speaking of, my old gym and trainers wanted me back in there to help me get fit for my new thing but I did it all myself. I figure, once I am commuting into town more often it will be more convenient to do both. Living out here and coming in to train and then to what, get into trouble in Toronto? Becasue I most certainly will. So if decided that I still need to slim down (prepared if that’s the case) then I’ll go train at TMR again. I prob will anyway. I know the commuting alone makes me lose weight. Seriously. Anyone who is a lazy shut-in blogger knows that when you schedule appts and go out into the world leaving your precious cave at home, you’re gonna lose four pounds that day. Well at least that’s what seems to happen to me then I’m like I did all that running around I should probably reward myself with a bowl of pesto pasta mmm.

I am always fantasizing about pesto and maybe one day eating it. If you play mental food games with yourself it can help you deal with all the restrictions.

Glad we went to Pepperwood instead of the Keg. The Keg on a Saturday is like walking into a zoo of annoying suburban elitist families frowning in the waiting area because they don’t take reservations on Saturdays it’s a first come first serve basis. No thanks! Also it’s douchey, wasn’t in the mood for that kind of douchey. I live near Pepperwood it’s just so much easier. The girl playing live music was good too. Normally when I see the musician come out I’m like oh great here we go but then she was mellow and played (current) songs I knew. Some soloists make it all about them and have whiney ballads. I know Boylord would be a super annoying dinner band because I am just, really annoying.

All I wanted on Valentine’s Day was to wear this stupid little thing I bought and have a photo of it in my instagram feed like I won Valentine’s Day. I wore it a weekend later instead. Oh well. On V Day we hibernated. Yes Valentine’s Day is a dumb tradition that’s turned into competing with other chicks and like no romance. It was basically like go to shoppers and take out a shelf of crap then give it to me so I can ignore you for an hour instagramming this pile of shit while we eat chocolate. Cool.

I had the beef tenderloin and finger me potatoes. I didn’t eat any of them though. The tenderloin was Raymazing.

I bought these in Holland. Love them.

Slimming down makes your bigger underwear, funderwear. Like yay it’s fun that I can remember when these gigantic things were skin tight on me lol.

Not the best lighting in there.

I don’t know why I bother censoring it. I guess if it was my intention to instagram it where someone always flags me. I also recall when I was able to change the size of these stickers but something seems to have changed. Catwang is still cool about that though.

Winter whining forever.

We finished watching Banshee. New episode on Thursday so no we haven’t finished it exactly but you know what I mean.

I just thought about all the laundry I should be doing today.

Tried to get it all in. Next time I’ll take off my shoe and rest it on the counter. I can’t find that specific picture right now though it’s the guy with his Timberland boot on the bathroom sink so you can see his whole outfit bahahha. Or I can do an extreme selfie.

Fuck ya.

A woman gave me stink eye for using my flash to take a pic of my beef tenderloin. Bet yer ass I gave her “the look” right on back. We stared at each other uncomfortably for 5 solid seconds while I squinted my eyes but I broke the look first to go back to my date. I almost asked CAN I HELP YOU? I did look back again at her and she was looking again while talking about me to her date. YES it’s “rude” to use a flash but it’s not that big a deal. You do have the capacity to ignore our table. We’re fine-dining and we are photographing it for the internet. We bought it, we commemorate it you can take your foodie rules and shove them up your ass. Why are you sitting in the bar area where there’s more action if you want no flashes going off then?

I’m not fully inconsiderate though. I will make a point to not use the flash the majority of the time as a courtesy gesture but again, when I go places if I want to take pictures then I will. No one in this life has to concern themselves with what others are up to. If you’re so offended by everything why are you even going out? Women give me dirty looks all the time no matter what I’m doing so I don’t care anymore. I have a present for you it’s called YOLO.

We’re lightweights, it doesn’t take much to get us going. I think after our first sip we laughed for ten minutes about absolutely nothing. A facial expression can set us off. Or an accidental lips whistle, oh god don’t get me started ahhahaa.

Shared mussels. Goooood and garlicy.

What’s going to happen when I have really long red mermaid hair like Cousin It.

His.

Saw my mom Sunday night for the Oscars and more booze cheating went down as it does. I’m her date tomorrow for some comedy thing she’s working. Will have to see if bf wants to go to that bet he won’t. I don’t think he wants to meet her haha. He didn’t meet her the first time around that we dated somehow managed to skillfully avoid it.

When she gave me these I was like what moron bought them for you. There is no chance she’d just go out and get me underwear for valentines day yeah right but anyway she’s like this is so a Raymi thing but even I feel too old to wear tights like that more of a Hailey thing.

I dyed Nana’s hair. She’s going away for 5 weeks. Happy to help. Having roots on vacation is the worst.

You can see the butt tan line.

There is NOTHING WRONG with nudity fyi. I’ve been a nudist (more or less) for many years and if it makes you uncomfortable, don’t look. Don’t actively look just to feel like shit. Some are inspired by me, by this. I am just saying either way being nude is nothing foreign to me so stop bashing me for it you’re wasting your time and energy.

Maybe my body is being accepted because I am accepting of my body. Showing it. I have dignity, a lot in fact.

I was actually afraid and expecting a huge family rift over it and it was secretly stressing me out big time and depressing me knowing I’d have to just fight for it and exhausted in advance about it. I’m happy that won’t be the case.

Was also refered to as a transvestite. Um, transvestites are beautiful, sometimes more feminine than actual females. The dig is meant to make me feel bad about having androgynous features and spoken by a desperate housewife. I guess I should get used to slags from jealous women. You think I’d be used to it by now. It only sucks that to move forward and live your destiny you have to go through so much garbage.

I am tired of being people’s punching bags who have sexual issues and are made uncomfortable by sex or by other women being comfortable being sexual or sexy.

I built my brand around sex because I am sexy. I didn’t craft this persona, it happened naturally on its own because I embody the passion necessary to live and breathe sensuality daily. This is how I am.

Okay it’s Sweaty Mercury time.

Peace.

oppressed by the figures of beauty

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Well hi there sports fans.

I took some ass pics today. Will post tomorrow because YOLO.

At times over the summer or, whenever, I’ve had moments where I’ve used yolo (post-ironically speaking of course!) in a sentence to describe something off like blah blah yadda yadda yolo… then I realised NO ONE COULD UNDERSTAND WTF I was saying.

So I would have to say it means you only live once, repeat the story like I did that crazy thing because YOLO, following now bruh?

Yes I hate it. Yes I use it because it’s dumb and all-emcompassing of an action, it’s like the new fuck – which, I sprinkle on everything liberally.

It’s how I talk. Pretend sorry. I talk like a sailor. Swift, dirty.

I can easily express myself like a geezer with eyes like two pissholes in a snowbank, ahh can and ah will!

I am tired of being ashamed so I’m not gonna be it anymore!

I am tired of being sheepish about being exquisite sometimes!

Like seriously, I try fucking hard man, to look, to be, and to be good, to help others, to be there for them.. you have no idea honestly. But!

You don’t get anywhere by letting people stand in your way. I had a really good zinger the other night I might have to just blog it.

I said I AM gonna be more successful and it’s not going to be from letting people like you get in my way.

I have watched The Other Woman twice in a month and I feel like it might have rubbed off on me a bit.

I am inspired to just “have chill” about the crazy decision I’ve made for my future.

I have certainly over-thought it enough and ping ponged back and forth in my head. At the end of each soul-searching sesh I come away with go for it.

Don’t ever forget the Raymboat mantra, IF NOT NOW WHEN.

Tattooable.

I told my mom.

She’s like, you’re in your thirties and you still want to take your clothes off.

I was like fucking right I’m almost 32 and they want me in the game still.

I got into serious shape for this and I am glad they told me to. It’s probably going to get bananas pretty soon. Screen test is next week. NO it’s not p0rn.

Anyway back to my day. Slept over at Nana’s last night had doc appt today, watched Oscars. Gaga was amazing.

I kind of ran out of energy for this post. It’s been a long day. This is me at 21.

I uploaded all these photos yesterday, starting now, but lost the desire to blog then too. My mom is over right now and internet jamming away.

Huevos bf style.

Dick innuendo! Plantains are bigger.

Okay I’ll save date night for later. I want to read the internet meow.

xo Raymbo

blog star quality

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Hi. Sorry for saying hi but not really meaning it. Are you one of those people who, when the conversation is just done there are no words like no ok bye and you feel like you have to dismiss the person with thank you we are done here? Or you outright just lie and say well let me see is there anything else I need to know (to close it up) knowing that there certainly is not anything else left to know, nope all good. The ultimate in lazy is just saying nothing, opening your mouth up slowly and then shutting it again, silently. That shit is funny to me.

Sorry I should have just stuck with the hi.

Truth be told is I feel lazy, have been lazy. I haven’t been giving enough. Everyday I should be like, and now I DID THIS!!!!

Being creative can be exhausting in so much that I can only blog every 1-3 days. You need to live a little, do more, experience, form opinions, before you can get at it again. Or I just go on ello sprees and instagram blasts, read every new thing I can on gawker, lesebel, and buzzfeed and if I am desperate, daily dot plus imgur. Then when I’m finished I’ll stalk random people who come to mind. Omg the other day this person posted a pic of people I hadn’t seen in years, girls who bullied me and never repented for it. Got away with it basically, but yeah, the girls have ballooned up a little bit. Total Muriel’s wedding justice moment no? I screengrabbed it for a rainy day…

…but anyway after all of that, I finally remember why it is I am here on the internet to begin with and get back to making my own news starring me plus my thoughts and every step through time.

My blog has been updated, not that you can tell. The WP version I was blogging on for years had been quadruple-time, old as shit long story short. So now this typing field I’m in is current and it feels, different. You don’t care, you never care. Anyway that’s all about that.

Yeah I look kind of stupid. Kind of stupid good! Was trying to decide what to wear in my little webcam video earlier. A bloggy friend suggested I do more videos, vlogs, and it’s always in my mind to do it. I need to practise being on camera anyway and not touching myself, my hair.

I’ve lost more weight. I’m getting more toned. Will do more cardio and ab work after this post. Winter is my jail sentence.

Wonder where the dress is that goes with this hat. It’s somewhere.

Tickle trunk game be strong.

Had a lot of coffee today. Will make an egg white spinach omelette soon.

Sorry I don’t respect you (or myself) enough to just take my jeans off for this. That underwear is going in the garbage RIP.

Had to wear ‘em cos there’s no clean socks left. It was all hype though. It feels neat to wear them and they are dangerous too, very slippy.

Not to be anti-feminist but stay bubbly because bitchy is fugly. I am not going to be bitchy ever again starting now.

Inside of my blythe journal given to me by a Little Raymi called Charmaine. She visited me at my bar one day and left it for me aw swoon.

So, IMO if these are tiny jeans why do they make my thighs look so goddamn juicy?

Hey buddy.

These were cold. Then my calamari sucked. Waitress was a bit bitchy and not saying it in a projectionary way, that’s just her way. She was selectively nice. She didn’t even give my friend the courtesy of a response when he (a food snob) hated on the calamari to her. She just stood there like a stone wall then walked away. Cool service style. I would have been like yeah you’re right they do look like a blooming onion that was run over with a van even though it’s supposed to be calamari and not flattened breaded onions.

At least I have R&B face.

Speaking of ello, I have a whole new peanut gallery over there. One guy said this photo wasn’t as good as..

…this photo. Okay, thank you.

What colour should I paint my toes next?

You can’t tell but he’s right on the edge of the bed and it’s a long way down. His purr motor was off the charts during this moment.

I wish a bottle of perfume was photoshopped beside him here. He is totally Mariah Carey right now fur sure.

Yesterday I was like I’m just going to start doing weird shit for the sake of it being weird with no context, form, or reason but then immediately chickened out ahahha.

So goth and emo.

My immediate future looks like.

I had to.

Hating winter. Yesterday I breathed too deeply while outside and all my lungs stuck together wtf! Dangerous. I bet that little boy was dead pretty quick. Saddest story ever. Poor little guy. But yeah, hate on winter is not original but I think it’s a form of excusing the amount of shut-in selfies and indoor fifty shades of cray activities. I NEED to be running out in the sun.

Cool great like I needed to look paler. Some foot fetish guy talks to me about these socks and asks for updates I assume he has a foot fetish or he just really likes red hearts????

He was just sitting on the corner of this antique trunk. I feel like cats make statements when they perch on random stuff around you. I am probably giving cats too much credit on their statement making abilities. I doubt he thought this one through. His brain is the size of a peanut.

Team barbie feet. It’s from dancing and being feet pointy a lot. I maaaaaaaay have exaggerated the foot point a little bit here.

Soon.

Yeah yeah arty isolation, all that good good.

That’s my face plus Jack Kerouac’s face.

Neat.

Alright. Bath time. Happy Friday to you all. Stay warm.

post-ablogalyptic

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Happy Christmastine’s Day all!

Fridate.

Shout-out to my homies, whagwan? What’s good?

Welcome now to the very public showcase which is my life, delicately edited for your pleasure (here’s hoping) and for everybody else, don’t care. #gangster

Lets start backwards because cool and simple. It’s freezing in my room right now I am considering moving into the livingroom to blog.

Oh hi.

This weekend was so lazy. It was so cold. Only insane people go out and have fun in that. Going out dancing this weekend instead to make up for it. I bought that stupid cute little number gotta go out and show it off no?

We completed 2 boxes of chocolates. I did as many exercises as I could to make up for it including training, crazy running intervals, and new core work that I am still sore from and showing abdominal improvements like a washboard for. I really want to look like an arachnid or Jesus H. Christ as soon as possible. I actually want to look like Shia Labeouf in the Sia video. Don’t let anyone ever tell you that crazy can’t sculpt you because it can, will, and does. Of all the side-effects of insanity, that one is a plus.

I feel like you always get duped when you order a mimosa when out. They definitely do not make it like you would at home. Yes super waste. I can’t get wasted on this! Hey remember when I was sober? Yeah well I’m still a light drinker and a lightweight so don’t worry in case you were. I love that a little goes a loooong way despite complaining about this mimosa so weak you could give it to your baby. baha

Size 27 pant in US btw is 4 (some say six) so lets say 5 to be nice. THE DUMBEST spat occurred in my comments over the weekend that I definitely should not be bringing up again now but I think it was a good example in online etiquette and being purposely obtuse, snarky then playing innocent then being told to lighten up. It was a tiresome bore and sucked the life out of my lazy Banshee bender trying to have some quality shut-in time with my Valentine.

I leave dumb comments all over the web so I understand. Sometimes I’ll both stare at and re-read a one word comment I’ve left somewhere and cringe knowing that the person won’t know how to analyze it.

Sometimes if you write HA! They can take it to mean HA! at them and not HA! with them.

But then it’s like who cares but then it’s like facebook is just a cauldron of your own drama, cast of characters and shit you put out there so have a little mercy. Also get a life.

I forgot my phone at one point this weekend and was like it’s ok you can refresh notifications when you get back. While at other points I put my head down, deflated, thinking this is so like Holland where I can’t roam off wireless and tweet every thought and cute things I see because I’m in The Netherlands. Off the grid. For two hours. You then realize how addicted and tethered to the various communications you engage with throughout the day. None of it matters but it can be awfully enriching when you have a roving, wandering mind.

Glitched. Have fixed version but whatevs.

Hahah WIND MACHINE #fashion.

Sans instagram filter. Not bad not bad, going to try to incorporate my eye crinkles the more comfortable I get being down with them. Don’t worry I’ll still wear shades and lots of makeup and soft camera lighting plus filters whenever I can/the time calls for it.

What’s a blogger to do right? Hint hint my blog title? I had this breakthrough in a post-ablogalyptic universe starring me post-blog (but the blog must go on!) how unhireable I now am. Except for pushing the envelope more and more.

Always be edgy I was once told.

Sometimes to get over mountains you have to go through them. #Banshee (almost done season 2 now).

But yeah to eclipse the little people you have to steer from them I guess.

One man’s trash is another man’s treasure and when the treasure is treated as such, good things happen.

I feel like I am writing a fucking harlequin pornmance.

Yep. Wine slut again.

Oh Jesus. I hit publish. So this is a grower post to those smart enough to come and see before I put it on Social Media blast.

We played this on Friday night. Fun and funny. We make each other laugh all day long. Like ten minutes goes by completey utterly wasted by laughing at the dumbest thing like a facial expression or, a word. It is surreal to be dating again. I’m still very cautious but there’s a lot of non-red flags to just be chill. It’s only when other people meddle is when problems occur but all in all it’s good. This weekend was a test for sure. I haven’t spent so much time non-stop together with someone since I was engaged yeesh. When people like each other they can smother one another it’s incredible. Passion plus I dunno but again “this time around” Raymbo is playing it safe. To be continued I guess.

Can’t even. That face. Face girls are always doomed no? Do women ever discuss trophy boyfriend collection? Remind me to talk about that someday when I run a superfluous girls club with Candice Bergen.

One of the things we ate this weekend. Deadly good.

He let the buttermilk thicken for like an hour on the counter I was like wtf are you doing over there now uh ohhhhhhh I seee neeeeeeeat.

I LOVE the taste of corn tortillas. How about corn deep fried zucchini magic? Transported.

What’s a little tonuge burn? Some like it hot.

Spicy beef patty action.

I lost 2-3lbs.

No more carbs screwing around this week. You’ll see why soon.

Leftover steaks and plantain breakfast.

haha shut up allow me to continue.

Didn’t get around to that yet….

Hibernation presents.

That is healthgoth. 1. look goth, 2. fit. yes I am talking to you #troll #bitch.

It’s Mardi gras in new Orleans right now and I am leaning against this wall.

There’s chocolate on my grey grunge sweater from Holland, on the right shoulder. :(

I’ve been making my homemade caesar dressed salad modified from The Beaver for years. Eventually not far long maybe even a decade. You can put anything in a caesar salad NEWSFLASH.

zzzz

Oh yeah look at that gravy.

Lentil soup fainting. So lemony mmm.

Had to include, almost lost in the frey. Sorry I am the worst.

Yesterday’s jam.

This morning.

Edison light from Earls.

Willpower breakfast.

Canadian tuxedo family day afternoon.

Heartsy artsy.

Winter tan!

Love it. Want it.

Okay guys not that this is dire to go on with or anything so I’m going to exercise now. Hope you had a splendid long weekend and a great day today so far.

Love Raymi.

Holy light, oh, burn the night

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Hello you people who come here.

Should I have bought that robe thing? It didn’t even have a sash. I feel like Kelly from 90210 would wear this. I can be a Kelly, no? Though I’d probably be the (f__ing bitch) Brenda whom I can easily visualize in this too.

Everyone’s like, get it get it. I want to too I mean, my eye picked it out of all the other crap in the store afterall. But I feel it’s just not practical. It’s arrogant. If I went over to someone’s house and the hostess was wearing this in my head I’d be like fuck you hahaha. It’s a classic look. A hallmark of Madonna in the 90’s. Bedroom. I am a peacock type so it’s not like going out of my comfort zone or anything.

I love it but I think I’ve gotten the intended use out of it already, which was a cute selfie. A picture lasts forever you can just picture me in this robe 24/7 now instead of the weird shit that I actually wear. Moving on…

Sexy song interlude. I have gone through the next season of Banshee’s soundtrack in advance. Oh yeah when I obsess I obsess HARD.

Didn’t get. Still shrinking, will be rendered useless and was also a bit baggy.

Sorry for that faaaaaaaaace. Haven’t washed hair since I dyed it (when did I dye it do you remember?) but yeah it is going to definitly bleed like bananas.

I did get this though. I’m going to wear it on valentine’s day. Which I thought was actually today. I also thought Wednesday was Thursday. I am definitely losing it. Meh.

How do I feel about storming forever 21 being forever 31?

Hmm, I am coming for ya bitches. When teenage chicks repeatedly look me over with approval… I guess it’s like when porn stars brag about shopping at the kid’s sections, I feel like Pamela Anderson said that definitely before.

I mean, forever 21 mocks adult feminine looks as well as tweeny trendy shit. A lot of the dresses at f21 are age appropriate. Spending a hundred bucks on a bag of tricks I’ll eventually give to my niece, what is the big deal?

Fashion rule of life is, if it fits and nothing is seen jiggling – it’s a go. I went out and said to the dressing room girl, okay this is really short can I do this? She said it’s supposed to be that way.

Would a celebrity wear this? Yes. On red carpet with insanely high Jessica Simpson pumps? Yes. Can I eat a steak and down a half bottle of red wine in this? Yep.

I had a cheap little black lace date dress that was legendary once. I sold like 100 of it and individually facebook replied to each lady who inquired where it came from 1. because I know the value of my influence 2. that retail store does not deserve my free press. I could have just said I got it here and saved myself the hassle of personally replying to everyone I told to email me if they wanted to know.

Because of my boxy boyish amazon wtf body type I can grab that ignored dress in the shop and make it work. Some dresses hang terribly on hangers, then no one buys them and they get shipped to Mississauga outlet malls where they go to die. Fact.

This guy (me) comes along and uses it as primo date machine attire on a blog then booya.

I even remember who scooped it up at my 10 year blogiversary party. Holy rambly, sorry sorry.

I am going to wear it with almost black (dark grey basically black) tights altho I kinda want to wear my cute little heart socks BUT it’s fucking winter man who do I think I am. If I am not too full then we will go dancing. wait omfg I just had a brainstorm!

Went for a tan to trick out ma bod.

I should just get a bottle of this again.

Post tan mall glow. A girl spied on me being insane like this. I didn’t look at her but I bet she was making fun of me in her head. I would. But secretly I would be like you are amazing.

Have to exchange for a smaller size. Sorry, I patronage your store enough don’t give me grief.

A troll flipped out on me here once when I said I was returning a shirt (oh please everyone does it and for worser reasons) but mine was a legitimate reason, it ripped on me – super cheaply made and garbage why the hell would I want to replace it? So I exchanged for something else. At the time of this comment, this repeat psycho troll was daily goading me, leaving obsessive comments and I saved them I never blogged them or responded or reacted. It’s just insane how someone can obsess over you like that and look for weaknesses and opportunities to wedge their way in.

To date I get a lot of positive messages. I feel like people are chill and we’re all mellowed out. Not to say I don’t receive insane things, and thirsty guys of course haha. That is part of the game perhaps. I am a flirt. Was recently accused of being one. I never really thought of myself as one. I “have no game” which is so 100% totally my game, or, a game.

I think that anybody I have drawn to me over a matter of years I totally deserve the attention of. As long as it’s positive. I am not talking unwanted attention from people who have been banished. You don’t have to like everybody and they don’t have to like you. They just have to go away.

I will 100% say these pants like tanning salon. I don’t care. It’s a nice smell. I will keep you all abreast of how Jeansgate 2015 goes down.

While these were to look a lot sexier, in my head. I think I just pulled them up too high and also my high heel mary janes should be the guys to slip these socks into.

I am a sucker for containment. I feel like I am going to slip on a banana peel at any moment, I crave safety. Jumpers are safe except for pee time and crouching naked on a toilet shivering in hilarious fear.

Love instagram filters. Am a walking piece of art.

My TBT. I was 21. A bf took this I was his model subject for a photography class. I lived around the corner at the time. He and I weren’t together at this point. We are still friends now. There is mad history yo. Complex! I really liked dressing like this, and still do if I have the figure for it. Slipping on form-fitting elastic-like jeans, jumping on my longboard and just whipping off on an adventure.

And now I’m just a tired old lady in glasses wahhhh.

Had this the other night. Bad girl. No more effing around I have a screen test or to talk about setting one up Feb 23. It’s time to look as Chiseled as Jesus fricking Christ now. If it didn’t leave scar marks I would even let you whip me and reimagine the stations of the cross (don’t say Catholic school wasn’t good for nothing!)

Another me at 21. I remember this day. There are other good pics of me from this sesh in the park doing karate Kid like balance poses on a fence. I lost pictures when indiko bit the dust, where I hosted my pictures since I was 19. Whatever I managed to randomly take over to flickr is what I still have. History dies if you do not back it up eh.

I have 98,493 pictures in my flickr account. Have been a member since 2005. That number seems a little high to me lol.

Back to my body psychosis.

My new boss said I look like Liz Hurley TWICE NOW.

I’m just gonna tie my ego to a hot air balloon and let it sail away now thx k bye whaaaaaaaaaaat!?!?

Yep gonna sculpt my guns after this.

And exchange these jeans. I will cry if the size down doesn’t fit and set myself on fire from embarrassment.

Oh hey cool can I try on these 27’s? Uh no reason…

On way to tan or after can’t remember.

A below picture. After my tan. I didn’t wear makeup really except the mascara seems to be permanently gunked on… I wouldn’t call it wearing. Ahh excuses, lovely. See how dried out my lips are like a peach. Sometimes nude lipstick is hot.

This morning already feels like years ago.

Did I ever tell you the reason why my blog posts are so long? If anyone has read this far and wants to know then I will say so.

Don Draper is back. I know right. It’s kind of surreal.

Dance time excellent.

How cliche is red nailpolish on v day??

you got me sippin’ on something

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Yep yep more of this.

The paunch of a woman is decidedly always the last thing to go. I’m like a mini cupcake, a gumdrop, I have no idea what I am saying it’s just girl gobbledity goo. Sometimes a bit of lovehandles can be hot. When I see innapropes and private pictures of myself sitting all out there like a boss, I’m like frig if that one leaked I would not be embarrassed at all…

Maybe I can get away with catwanging one. It’s always over the top with me though.

Speaking of (somewhat), how do we collectively feel about Madonna’s butt-flashing for real? She can do no wrong first of all. I don’t think it was sad it was more just like a whatever attempt at controversy and “being cheeky” which is outdated and cheesy of course. We all have something to say and judge but at the end of the day she is Madonna, we are not – which means something I guess BUTT it was the least interesting thing of the night. For once the Grammys are stil being talked about days after. I just can’t remember any of the other Grammys my brain can retain only so much uselessness.

I keep eyeing these buggers on my windowsill in the sun frikking flirty. I feel like chicks in their early thirties are frisky and like, if spinsters, allowed to just own the cray. Your (our) bodies are ticking hormone in their prime/is running out machines. Literal Katy Perry Roar music videos. Take like, every single burlesque dancer about this age (or more!) that you know and you know I’m right. I love it. La dee dah liiiiife! You just get one and how fun is yours?

I have been mentioning this notion of “fun” a lot lately to friends, and the need for it.

How I am addicted to it.

How it rules my world.

Other Peter Pan never grew up syndrome people I know are all about it too. I think when I don’t have fun I start to wilt like a flower petal. My spirit takes a nosedive. I drink. I bathe in misery. I hate the cold so I don’t go running, which also depletes my endorphins. Exercising indoors and on the cheap as in DIY it takes a lot more gusto and self-motivation to do it yourself.

It just feels like I will never be granted a clear mind. There is always something to nitpick about. I cannot see the forest for the trees never. Even when things are good I am like this is bad.

Then I look back a few years later and am like wow that was a good time Lauren, good thing you did not enjoy a second of it.

I just feel guilty having fun. Knowing how to have fun while being responsible. I feel like I am lying here all the time because I only show you the good things or the wishes I have and my plans my dreams my hopes I feel like I am writing on Lisa Frank stationary with unicorns and stardust floating all around me like a giant fucking jerk.

The truth is I am happy. But why do I feel so bad?

Does it feel good to feel bad? Maybe I am riding the wave of bad feelings coasting gently away and off of them standing on the abyss of a new juncture knowing it is going to be hella intense.

I am literally staring at the most calmest beautiful lake right now in the sun, the sun having all to do with this sudden boost of joy. Or maybe it is mania? Sylvia Plath, hello?

Why do writers sound and feel insane all of the time. Everything is so profound so beautiful to be captured and thought shared. To this you guys, pay attention. I was just thinking this beautiful thing and… oh I’ll tumbl it instead.

See. Painting.

Okay I’ll talk normal now blabbity blah what is this a nature book about birds, maybe? I mean I already talk about squirrels why stop there. I’ll also mention that I am upset that I didn’t make a squirrel squatting joke at the time either, it burned me up just a little I admit.

And this fucking guy.

Should we talk about the pink elephant some more or.

I really liked this picture (taken in July) even though I look kinda too juicy in it for my usual liking, AND I kinda like that about it at the exact same time. Sometimes beautiful women with just a little more meat on them can make you go bananas? I also remember this night and how it was basically like the movie save the last dance no wait, step up? A dance movie starring me plus ______. I actually do not remember what his blog nickname is or if he even had one do you recall? Did I call him volleyball? Ok well I will now. I don’t think I even got into it because we happened quickly then were over so quickly.

In the situation I feel like I got played. The aftermath leading to a lot of reckless behaviour this (past) summer, a lot of “fun” as mentioned before which I like, a lot of woe and a lot of running. I pined for him, then I moved on and recently learned that it went over a month about without my contacting him at all til he started sniffing around again.

I had met the Polish guy at this point and was pretty smitten with him or about to be.

I am going to refrain from telling you this all at once because it is all majorly too soon and maybe down the road I won’t even want to say it. Will save for a slow news day. Or I’ll weave in and out of it along the way.

These were my skinny jeans I bought from Zara when I bought my green winter coat last season that I always wear. They fit me then but only if it was a skinny day which I seldom bothered to get to because I didn’t care about being a little extra juicy back then but anyway now they’re fat day jeans, or really stretched out plus I have slimmed down to be able to grab them for regular jean wearing rotation. I also have a pair of jeggings that were painted on tight when I started wearing them but now are saggy so that makes me happy.

This is about a month old. On way to my dermatologist appt. You can clearly see my old lip piercing hole. I think it’s cute. It collects makeup in it sometimes that I have to make a point to remember to pick out sounds gross but isn’t it’s like a personal treat ok now that sounds gross. (will use this as a stand-up bit in future for sure).

My breakup review was that I was hot, sweet, funny and would be regretted. I’m not going to divulge the bad parts of the review sorry you can just use your imagination.

Anyway this was an interesting look I had one day due to not having a flat iron available so I bjork bun curled my hair and it lasted for 2 days. For the record I am really turned off by this hairstyle, there might be a cuteness to it that some guys are 90’s wistful for but mostly it repulses me and now you know. When people are like aww cute buns I am just pretending. I think the disdain is linked to impatience and the memory of having to sit still for an hour and have my hair done like this before bed on the eve of something important I needed crimpy hair for. I do have an appreciation for braiding though don’t look at me like that I was just hyper-active.

Yum town.

Time for another complaint. Blogging and “working” at the same time is hard. It is exhausting. Especially blogging like this, talking about things that exhaust you but being ceative can be exhausting, it is exhilarating and I love it but it still makes you tired because it is using your talent I suppose. This fucking dink once said that I had no talent in the Globe and Mail. Uh bro I made the Globe and Mail for essentially about nothing I call that talent.

I just mean when things are fun, and it can be fun and a joy to blog, to write gleefully about your life and talk to all these different people throughout the day while blogging it just gets hard to turn off the outside noise when you want to do both. To create and to socialize. You’re left with this rubbing off onto that and it can be totally cool actually.

It was more like a non-complaint. Like all things to come out of my mouth tend to be.

No offense but gross. Cannot handle floaty things in my drink unless there’s booze in it. Jello and a milkshake (“tea”) I can’t deal. Congratulations on calling it bubbles though that’s smart and clearly the marketing works.

Pic from above but how instagram had its way with it #healthgoth. I want a picture playing tennis frozen like a mannequin in a black sport bra etc you know?

Now time for the fun task of sorting through these which I have or have not blogged yesterday. One time this psycho bitch commented that I had posted the same picture twice (they were very similar selfies) in my old condo but bitch was wrong. Also, who cares? Like what a waste of the next few sentences I type bothering clearing this up.

Because some readers do nitpick over every detail here. God some bloggers (majorly famous ones) get it so bad I feel bad they seem to be caught up in rectifying every single false claim about them instead of doing the thing that got them famous to begin with – blog. It reminds me of times when I went far with obsessing about a few times I was put through the ringer. Bloggers have harder times accepting criticisms because they’re bloggers first and celebrities second. Organic celebrities. Realer. Though a lot of celebrities do not manage to turn the other cheek and will react to haterade on twitter so who is to say anymore, it’s more based on the individual. We’re all snowflakes right.

Shutting up/owning it from here on out.

Getting there. Trying to be proud of myself and make peace with everything.

Once you’ve seen one you’ve seen them all I guess. The slight differences do not matter. I’ll have to wear a new outfit next time (not a problem). Alrighty that’s all for today then.