ALIVE...without the plane crash and cannibalism

Not For Sale: One destroyed slightly used 5 series BMW. It has incredible minimal damage on the drivers side. Completely written off. Great buy for a handy man!!

I apologise for two somewhat dark posts in one week, however my handsome BF was T-boned yesterday and it scared me. Terrified and upset me. I realised that the phone call I received from him telling me he had just been hit could have been an entirely different phone call all together. One that would have changed my life completely, and it made me realise how quickly life changes. I was expecting to go home to him, throw on my bathing suit and jump in the pool. I'm so lucky, he's so lucky, that the only thing destroyed was his car. It could have so easily been his life.

He was t-boned right in the drivers side door by an older man. The older man was waiting to exit a parking lot and cross the street, but an impatient prick behind him kept honking his horn and making a scene (apparently, so says witnesses) so the older man decided to gun it across the street just as the BF was driving by and slammed right into him. It ripped the entire drivers side door apart, left a huge hole in the metal on the door, split the leather on the interior of the door from the impact, and then slid down the side of the car denting, scrapping, and ripping apart the whole drivers side of the car. Luckily the BF's  window was down, because it all shattered but luckily broke inside the door so it didn't cut him up at all. He walked away with some aches and pains, but hopefully nothing lasting. I'm so relieved.

The older man that hit him had no injuries either, and minimal damage to the van that he was driving. Thank goodness.

Note: The BF was driving a BMW 525i and he highly recommends them for safety. He is incredibly impressed by the protection the car provided. Oh ya, and he's only had the car for like a month - I have one unhappy camper on my hands.

Look A-Likes

I've never been told that I look like any celebrities before. I've gotten a million "oh my god you look JUST like someone I know..." or "do you go to ____ University? Because I swear I see you all the time"...or "I just saw your Twin walking down the road..." but never a comparison to a celebrity. Until last week that is, when I got two...two different ones.

One girl, I've never met before, messaged me on facebook to say that she saw my picture in a photo album of a mutual friend and she "just needed" to message me and tell me that I look "EXACTLY" like Anna Paquin.

I'll take it as a compliment, but I've never seen the relation or ever heard it from anyone else.

Then a couple days later when I was camping a different girl came up to me and told me I look exactly like KE$HA. I had no idea what she looked like so I had to google her:

Crazy, two celebrity look a-likes in one week...the first of my life. I have blond hair and fair skin, and a nose ring like Kesha, but other than that, I don't really see the comparisons, but I'll take them. It's better than hearing I look like some random girl in your math class.

This Shit's Wack

"The Throne" - "The Shitter" - "The John" - "The Water Closet" - " The Poop Box" - "The Lou" - or most commonly... "The Toilet". It's the "man's" domain, or so it's always been perceived. People leave fishing, golfing, and maxim, etc. magazines lying around for the men who use the washroom. The jokes are always about how long men take to...well shit. And since women "aren't supposed" to shit, or since it's not ok to talk or joke about it the way men do, women rush in and rush out of the washrooms so no one thinks they're "taking a number 2", at least most women I know.

Well fuck that. I don't want my bathroom usage inspected or critiqued, the thing is, I get distracted when I'm in the bathroom. I like reading magazines, fixing my hair, going through my phone etc, and I hate that if I take longer than the allotted time for a "female washroom break" there are assumptions made about what I'm doing in there.

When I was in University I spent allot of time in a house that was lived in and maintained by all boys. They always had maxims and other cool books and stuff laying around in their bathrooms, and I always got distracted and started reading them. Sometimes I would leave the bathroom with the magazine and go sit down somewhere to finish reading an article so I didn't spend too much time in the bathroom, for fear of comments, jokes etc.

But it's time to rise up and say "bullshit". If I want to sit in the bathroom and read a magazine article, or look through my phone, or read a novel, no one should judge me, and I hate that I even change my behaviour based off of the judgements of others.

Today I spent 15 minutes in the bathroom. I had 2 MSN conversations, 2 text message conversations and a message on facebook to attend to. And that "shit" (pardon the pun) takes time. So I sat in the bathroom and did all the typing on my phone I wanted, and didn't care who noticed the length of time I was missing. I don't need to explain what I'm doing in there, it's no one else's damn business!

Rant complete

Why You're Awesome

I find you randomly washing my car.

Your reason: "I don't want all of the people you work with to think you're fucking weird"

You invite friends over when the house is a disaster with no desire to clean it, but god forbid I go to work with a dirty car...people in the parking lot might get the wrong impression!

Damn I love you!

Kumbaya...

Someone was killed...murdered...beaten to death, less than 200 feet from me while I was sleeping. oh.my.god.

We went camping this past weekend (a long holiday weekend in Canada) with a bunch of friends. The place we went has a reputation for out of control partying. The BF has gone sans me the last 2 years because he had heard the rumors and was worried about my safety. Nothing happened those two years, he came home telling me that it was just like any other camping trip, albeit a little crazier, with lots of dirt bikes, quads and field cars, but as long as I didn't do anything stupid "like stand in the middle of the street with cars coming" than I should be fine, so this year we decided to go together.

He watched me like a hawk, a hawk that I didn't see and had no idea was watching me...so maybe a more accurate description would be: he watched me like a crazed stalker hiding in the bushes. At one point my girlfriend and I got in the back of a pick up truck that was going to go through the mud pits and out of no where I hear the BF's booming voice "Why the hell would you get in the back of a pick up without a tail gate?" yelling at us from atop a pile of rocks across the field. The guy in the front of the truck that we didn't know turned around saying, "so that must be one of your boyfriends". Ahem, yup. What can I say, he loves me...or doesn't want to explain to my parents why I'm broken when we return. Either way.

Anyhow, the rumors of this place seemed extremely embelished, it really was like any other camping trip except for the field cars etc. which honestly, made the days less boring. So I was all prepared to come home to all of the skeptics and those who thought I was crazy for going, and show them I am still in one piece and there is no need to be concerned or worry. That is until someone got beaten to death. Seriously, to death, at the campsite next to us.

The BF and I were sleeping at the time so we didn't hear anything happen. I woke up at about 4 or 5 in the morning because the BFs a jerk and stole my blanket so I went to my car to get another one. I came out of the trailer to see an ambulance, a girl crying, and another guy freaking out. I grabbed my blanket and when I was going back to the trailer I stopped to talk to a couple of my friends that were still awake and told them to go check out what's going on, because I'm terribly nosey, but wanted to go back to sleep.

We found out a couple hours later that the guy had died from internal injuries and there were police EVERYWHERE. I've never seen a real crime scene before, it was crazy. The whole end of the street we were on was police taped off, there were cops and investigators everywhere and no one was allowed to leave or enter the campground. We were on lock down. I was on lock down. Because of a murder. I couldn't comprehend it. I still can't. This guy, who was in his mid-twenties, is dead. He went away for the weekend with his friends, and his family will never see him again. So insanely tragic. My friend Ryan saw it happen. He said it started and ended so quickly there wasn't really anytime to react. I'm still in shock, and feel terrible for the poor guys family and friends. The four guys that beat him were all found and arrested. We're not sure what the motive was, but I can't think of any reason for four guys to beat one guy until he dies. Ridicules.

Why You / How To Irritate Me...

Use the washroom stall RIGHT next to the one I'm in when ALL of the other stalls are empty. Seriously, there is a code of conduct for public washroom use, and it states clearly that you never go in the stall directly next to someone if there are other avaliable stalls. It's just friggen awkward.

The Blondeness of my Brain

I'm infamous (if one can be infamous within their immediate family) for making overtly "blond" comments. My family gets a huge kick out of it, so I thought I would share some gems:

My only request is that you don't judge me...although I would totally judge me if I were you, so I guess I can't blame you...this shits embarrassing!

Move-y Around-y - as in: "Geez your dog is really move-y around-y" - ya... there's no excuse for this, although the BF uses it now, which is pretty awesome. "UGH, we are being way too move-y around-y, my hangover is killing me."

Asian-y - as in: "This spicy Asian chicken is extra Asian-y today"

Bony-fur - as in: "Wow this dog is really bony-fur" ... ya that one is beyond me. I think I was trying to say he was really bony with no fat on him, only a layer of fur on top of the bones... It's embarrassing!

The blondness of my brain - as in: "Hey guys, wanna hear the blondness of my brain?"...translation: I knew I was about to make a blond comment, so I was forewarning them...I didn't even get to make the comment because they were too busy laughing.

Deck the halls - this doesn't seem weird at all, except it was said in the middle of the summer in reference to the way someone "decorated" their car. - as in: "DECK THE HALLS!!" While pointing at a ridiculously painted vehicle. - Don't even ask...

I said something to the BF when we were out for dinner once that was just ridicules, what it was I said has totally escaped me now but his reaction was priceless. He stopped what he was doing, stared at me and said "I swear sometimes I think you're an alien." - Ya I say some really stupid shit sometimes.

Those are the only ones I can think of for right now, too bad my brother or my dad wasn't here though, they like to quote me regularly.

Sunday Confessional...Shut Up, I Know!

I do not like buttons. Particularly plastic ones with the four holes...even as I type this I have a grossed out look on my face and I'm lightly typing on my keyboard as if it's covered in cooties. I fucking do not like green eggs and ham, I do not like them, Sam I am - substitute the "green eggs and ham"  for buttons and were spot on...although I doubt very much that I would like green eggs, they sound DISGUSTING!

Apparently this has been a problem since I was a kid. My Mom says that I couldn't do up buttons so I flat out refused to wear anything that had buttons on them...I think that in a previous life someone tortured me with buttons, or my torturer was wearing button covered clothes...OR my torturer WAS a giant button...that's the only reasonable conclusion I can come to.

PS I would like to ask my sister to please remove the dish of buttons she left on my desk at my moms house. Not Impressed. Granted I don't live there, but now that I know that dish of buttons is there, it irritates me from a distance.

Take Me Down to the Paradise City...

I need a change.
I'm feeling really antsy.
I think a lot of it stems from my job. I try to remind myself that I'm lucky to have a job in the first place, but spending the majority of my day, and the largest portion of my week at a place that is so terribly unfulfilling is crippling my spirit. My spirit needs crutches, I've placed an order for a wheelchair...seriously, you guys, my fucking spirit is limping, hardcore...it's going to be bed ridden soon, I can sense it!

So this is what I'm doing in hopes of lifting my spirits, (aside from the crutches and wheelchair solution):

Photography - My Dad is f'in fantastic! I asked him a couple weeks ago if he still had the old film camera he had when I was a kid, and if I could have it. He spent hours searching through boxes and found it for me. Along with some lens covers, a long super fun looking lens, a carrying case, a camera case, and all sorts of other little wonderful extras. I'm sure you can clearly gather from my expert camera lingo that I could show you a thing or two about photography...seriously, that's all i could show you. I grew up using a point and shoot. I have no idea what the hell all the little dials and numbers mean...camera gods...this is your shout out, HELP ME! The BF and I have played around with it and he has taught me a couple things, but I really don't have a clue what I'm doing, but at least it's fun and is giving me something to play with and explore.
Side Note: If anyone has expired film they don't want, and are just planning on throwing away, I'll take it off your hands, I love the effect that expired film gives photos, at least from the ones that I've seen.

Projects - The BF and I decided to refinish our coffee table. It's a HUMONGOUS son of a b*tch that his Mom has had for something like 28 years. We sanded it all down, and stained it this really dark brown and black colour, it looks awesome if I do say so myself (which I do, because this is my blog bitches, so you have to take my word for it!!). We then put a couple layers of a varnish on it to make it really shiny. It took us a couple days to do it because we fucked up a couple times...each. I'm not gunna lie, i think his mom might have died a little inside when she saw it, and his dad probably died a little inside when he saw the spots of stain we left all over his immaculate grass in the backyard from knocking the can over...better the grass then the patio, which is where we started though...so really, he should be happy!

- I'm not really sure why I put an "s" on projects because that's really the only project we have, i have no other projects lined up (which is totally bumming out my spirit again). Do you have a project you want the BF and I to complete? I can't promise we'll be sober when we do it, or that it will turn out anything like you envision...but we're free, and fucking awesome! 

If you have any other spirit lifting, fixing, beautifying, etc. idea...spread the wealth! I'm totally game for any ideas!

Shit's wack right now...

seriously. I will post more soon, just can't think straight right now.

Mirror Mirror on the Wall...

Like most women I see faults with myself. Lots of them. I rarely wear shorts, when I get out of the pool I immediately cover my legs with a towel, I always wear tights with skirts/dresses. I hate my legs. Or so I always say. Lipo would be nice I always think. I beat myself up over it. But then I look at pictures like this...

and I wonder, is plastic surgery really worth it? Are my self conscious feelings just internal thoughts that won't change with any amount of "work" that I have done? Should I just embrace my legs, flab, cellulite and all?

Slim legs, large perky breasts, flat stomachs etc. are all desirable, but at what cost? Check out this picture of Tila Tequila. A) Where the hell did her nipples go? There should be at least an areola or something showing, right? and B) You can see the scar or folds of the implant under her boob. Yes, big perky boobs are nice, but scars, and visible ripples from the implants...SO NOT nice.

I guess no matter what my insecurities are, I'd always prefer to have natural ripples and unsightly marks then ones that I paid thousands and thousands of dollars for. So I'll start reminding myself that now in preparation of bikini season. Ya, I'm not perfect, but even if I were to pay someone to make me the way I wish I were, I'd likely still be disappointed.

Update : I'm doing it!!! I've now worn shorts like 4 times since the weather has been incredibly warm and a jean skirt twice. This is HUGE! I don't think I wore either at all last year, but I'm determined not to let self concious thoughts bring me down!

Oh Fully Formulated Thoughts...Where Did You Go? I Miss You.

What do you call someone who is of both Asian and Caucasian decent?

Is it Cauc-Asain?…because I’m seriously curious.
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My nose is super dry lately and it’s hurting…inside that is. Remember the Simpsons episode where Chief Wiggem tells Ralph that if his nose starts bleeding it means he’s either picking it too much, or not enough…well…my nose is bleeding and I’m not sure which side of the equation I fall under, I thought I was picking it a healthy amount.
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It’s the BF’s Mom’s 60th birthday today…I have NO IDEA what I should get her. It’s a big birthday. She does so much for me, I want to do something nice for her. I don’t get paid until tomorrow so whatever I get her I’ll have to put on my visa and I SO don’t want to do that, crap crap crap!
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I have a bachelorette party to go to on Saturday. I think I should get the bride a piece of lingerie…
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I wish money tree’s were real.
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My therapist said I need to stop living in a fantasy world, I focus too much on wishing things were real and on things that I can’t change...It would be A LOT easier (for me that is, and for you because DAMN I wish for such awesome things) if my wishes came true.
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Crazy multitalented people piss me off. No one should be able to sing, play an instrument, paint, dance, AND pat their head while rubbing their belly all at the same time. Spread that shit out. Everyone should just be given ONE talent. Stupid talent gods playing favorites. For example: Sam Roberts, he’s a Canadian musician, has won tons of awards etc…his back up career, NHL hockey player, that’s right, he got to choose between being a famous musician, or being a famous hockey player…how is that even fair!???!
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I wish it was Friday… (I know, I know, stop wishing for things, and focusing on that which you can not change…fuck it…I still wish it was Friday).

Today is a Day For Rhyming, It Couldn't Have Had Better Timing

It's Limerick Day Beeeotches!!

I wish today I didn’t have to work
In my bedroom I would continue to lurk

But magic is not real
Regardless of how I feel

So sadly reality continues to smirk
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I will talk in limericks all day
Despite what my bosses have to say

My greatness is irrefutable
But apparently rhyming is not work suitable

They should all relax and find themselves a lay
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Today is a day for rhyming
I’m sure I would do much worse at miming

I can’t hold my tongue
Despite who I’m among

And my volume continues to keep climbing
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Limericks make us laugh - just like a fart
It was in Ireland that they got their start

I encourage you to share
A rhyme if you dare

I'll post them on my fridge like art

Sunday Confessional - On Monday

I don't like blogging on Sunday's - So you should pretty much always expect the Sunday Confessional on Monday's.

Sunday's are my, wearing-the-first-articles-of-clothing-I-see-on-the-floor-when-I-wake-up, big-breakfast-eating, BF-cuddling, cartoon-watching, Sunday-driving (in my less than clean-but comfy-floor clothes), PVR-catching-upping, hangover-recovery, laundry-doing day. It's pretty jammed packed with glorious nothingness that turning on my laptop is WAY too much effort.

I love writing this blog, but not as much as I love all of the awesomeness and all of the nothingness that consumes my Sundays.

An Ode to My Panda / Why You're Awesome

You wrote me a friendship love letter, the best friendship love letter EVER!

Believe it or not (but you should totally believe me because I'm a pretty honest person, and I don't get down on the whole lying scene) I had planned this post yesterday as I was driving home from work (because paying attention to the road is SO overrated) before I even knew about the friendship love letter you wrote me.

You're so damn awesome that you totally deserve the appropriate shout out.

You're the type of friend that anyone would be insanely lucky to have, and i appreciate and love the profound effect you have on my life. Without getting too mushy or lame (which is totally on par with the thoughts I had while reading your letter) I want you to understand how much your friendship means to me. I wouldn't mentally be where I am today without your help, guidance, laughs, and random conversations. You keep me from going insane on a daily bases.

You're one of the greatest people I've ever known, and that is not an exaggeration, you seriously seriously are.

Your daughters are lucky to have a mother like you, their beautiful genuine spirits are a true reflection of you. I hope you have an amazing mothers day, you truly deserve it.

Thank you for being such a wonderful friend and presence in my life.

If You Don't Read This in it's Entirety You're a Jerk...There I said it!

I was just told by a coworker that I'm "not very exciting lately".
My response *big yawn*.

I don't mean to not be exciting, I mean to always be super exciting, it's just that I'm just feeling SO lack luster lately. These pills are taking so much out of me! I yawn all day long. Yesterday I took a two hour nap when I got home from work, woke up for 4 hours and fell back asleep again. I can't wait for the two weeks that they've told me this will last for to be over. I want to formulate full thoughts without my eyes glazing over and yawning and stretching like an idiot.

I have a whole list of blog entries I want to write, I just can't find the energy to make them even half interesting, so suckers, you're stuck with "un-exciting" entries for a couple days. I feel sorry for you! But not too sorry, I feel WAY more sorry for myself, because I'm the one feeling this way, you just have to read it. And you don't even have to read it, you could totally not read it, which would make you a jerk. JERK! Well I guess if you've read this far you're not the jerk, all of the jerks stopped reading a while ago...damn it, I apologise, you're not the jerk!

These Boots Were Made For Walkin', And That's Just What They'll Do...

The BF suggested yesterday we go for a walk everyday. You guys! You have no idea what a surprisingly awesome suggestion this is!! The BF has a physical job so usually when he gets home he's sore and achy and I can't blame him (and if your significant other is like this, you know suggesting a nice walk is usually shot down with a "I walk allllll day!" response), but I sit still...all day, for 8 hours a day, NOT MOVING! UGHHHH! It's terrible, so I crave some kind of exercise after work (that is when I'm not exhausted, which is pretty much all the time, but mentally I want to exercise, really!).

Anyhow we usually go for a drive every night. We drive around listening to music etc. enjoying each other, the songs, and the scenery. We both love going for drives through the country side (plus he just bought a new car, so he loves it EXTRA much). Well last night while we were driving around he suggested we start finding nice places to park the car and go for a walk... and while we're doing that I can take pictures. Yippee!! We're not hikers, we are barely walkers, but I'm excited at the prospect of possibly being a little healthier, and exploring photography more. Especially with the BF's support...and not just his support, but at his suggestion! WooO-to-the-muther-fuckin-WhOOooO!

Completely Inappropriate, Awkward, Offside Comment

So I have my nose pierced. It's been pierced since I was about 17, so for just over 8 years. That's like the longest I've kept anything, so I'm kind of attached to it. I kind of forget it's there, it's just part of my face now. Honestly the only time I think about it is when little kids grab it and ask me what it is (its a hoop, so a little more noticeable than a stud). My general reaction is "oh just decoration" because really...how do you explain a piercing or tattoo to a three year old, especially one that doesn't belong to you, so you're not sure what their parents may think of facial piercings.  My mom has asked me regularly for 8 years when I'm going to put a nice diamond in my nose instead of the ring, and to that my answer is, "on my wedding day", but I will likely go back to the hoop right after.

It's not an obtrusive hoop or anything, some people have known me for months and then will randomly one day ask, "oh hey, when did you get your nose pierced?" either because it just really suits me (at least that's what I've been told) or they're terrible terrible friends and don't actually ever look at me. Anyhow I feel the need to express to you how "un-trashy" it looks on me. I have had several people ask me if I would mind if they got their nose pierced like mine and where I bought my hoop (its really tight to my nose) because I make it look good. (Ok, it was only 4 people so I don't know if that counts as several, but really, 4 girls have asked if I would care if they got the same piercing as me, so it can't look terrible, and that makes me feel pretty f'in good!)

Anyhow, the point of this post is a conversation that I had with someone the other day, well less a conversation and more of a completely inappropriate, awkward, offside, head shakingly weird, comment :

(note: there's an ongoing joke at work that I'm shackled to my desk...I may or may not have started it, but only because I literally can not leave my desk and it makes me stir crazy)

"Hey, I see you're packing up to leave, time to go home?'

Me: "Yup, they finally unshackled me for the day"

"Oh ya, you look like you would be into that kind of stuff, shackles and chains I mean. I can tell from your nose ring." (said seriously all sexual like)

Me: (internal gag) "uhhhhh" *awkward silence - head down continue finishing up* (thinking, "go fuck yourself buddy") - This individual is probably in their 50's or 60's and we do not have a relationship where we would make comments like this. The extent of our conversations up until this point were courteous, good mornings etc.

Since when did having a nose ring mean someone would be into that? I work with a large number of women from India etc. that have their noses pierced and I can bet you that comment wouldn't be made to one of those women, even though they all have nose rings.

Concentration? Wha? No idea what that is...

UGH! I can not concentrate on ANYTHING right now, and it's driving me f'ing banana's!!

Anxiety is a bitch.

I actually knew what I was going to write 30 seconds ago, but then I got distracted thinking of a title and I forgot what I was going to write...seriously, I am not kidding. Thinking of a title regarding my ridicules inability to concentrate, ruined my concentration. Blast!

I have some work that I need to finish - can't concentrate

A very close girlfriend's grandmother is ill and my heart is breaking for her. I remember loosing my grandmother and the scar is still fresh. That was 8 years ago. I want to make it better for her, but I don't know how.

I want to take a shower, and a nap.

I wish I could remember what I wanted to write about.

I started that anti-anxiety medication on Sunday and I cannot wait for it to start doing something. If it works I may have a chance at a life I didn't know existed, free of constant ruminating, and the nauseous feeling that haunts me. I'm so excited at the prospect it offers that for the last 3 days I've been excited to take the medication, like counting down the hours until the time I can take it (that is NEVER the case for me. Up until I moved away to University my mom taped my medication for IBS to my lunch EVERYDAY so I wouldn't forget to take it. When I moved away I forgot...everyday). I hope I'm not disappointed by the results.

It's my boooddyyy and I'll cry wolf if I want to

I'm a worrier, I've said it before and I'll say it again. I was never able to put my finger on it before, never able to understand why I was always in a slight state of panic, but all it took was for someone to look me in the eye and say "it's ok, you're just a worrier" for me to now be able to say it to myself. It doesn't stop the worrying, but it makes it easier to deal with because I can calm myself down by reminding myself "hey, crazy, you're just a psycho worrier, chill the fuck out!" and surprisingly...it works!

I remember once someone telling me I'm a hypochondriac, and being really offended. "Ummm, no I'm not...I've had a headache for A WEEK...hear me...A WHOLE MUTHER F'IN WEEK....I MUST HAVE A BRAIN TUMOR! That's the only explanation!!!" I'm still kinda offended, but I understand where they're coming from...I also understand where I'm coming from though, so they can suck it.

The BF is either the biggest whiner in the world, or his body is falling apart. I'm betting on falling apart since his knees are shot and I massage them nightly, he has a weird bone chip or something floating in his lower back causing pain, and his side/stomach has been aching for like 4 or 5 days. Yesterday he was sitting there holding his side because it was killing him and looked at me and said "I think I have stomach cancer..." (that's why I love him...he knows how to get a reaction). So when he said this I guess my face showed it all, my eyes got big and I got the worried look on my face, and he just burst out laughing, because clearly he doesn't have stomach cancer...but seriously...people with stomach cancer have to figure it out somehow, and it's likely that their stomach's hurt...right!? So it's not so far fetched now IS IT?

Sunday Confessional

I pick my nose. I do not eat it.