Burlesque

I have never been in dance, nor ever plan too. But there is something about its silence that keeps me so intrigued. Being a storyteller my whole life, and more recently, a writer, I tend to exaggerate a lot of things in my everyday life. Perhaps that’s why the over the top movements caught my eye, and not the noise. Sure the music is just as tempting, but this movement is not something your average Joe can pull off. Unless he has a deep, inner sex kitten waiting to pounce out of him…however, I’m guessing more often then not, that is a no. Because, lets face it, women are sexy beings. Men, what’s not to like? We have flowing, touchable hair, piercing eyes, with flirtatious lashes, seductive grins with kissable lips. We smell good enough to eat, yet we’re always just out of reach. The curve of our body makes for an outstanding silhouette and our poses are outright seductive at least. We give you glimpses of our chest, appealing to your imagination and tell you no, when our body language is screaming yes !
If you’ve even managed to get your eyes past all that, you will come to our outstandingly long, toned legs. With skin just kissed by the sun, it looks like it would melt to even the slightest of your touch. Not to mention all the confidence we portray to you. It's as if we know what makes you crumble to your knees.

It is that very confidence about burlesque dancing that gives me the chills. It’s tempting, and if I could buy it in a bottle I would have no room in my drawer for leggings. I would give all the fake eyelashes in the world to see what it felt like to be up on that stage. I bet its both exhilarating and addictive. I would have the freedom to buy as much makeup as I want, and use it. I could buy the hottest outfits and parade around in them without a care. I would also buy killer high heels in which to do the parading in. The dancing alone would account for my workout, and the power of any mans wish would be on my fingertips. 

I blame it on my Scorpio sign that makes me give in to all this secretive sexiness. I hate how it suggests silence and movement may be the way to get who or what you want in the world. But hey, if all else fails, at least we’ll look good doing it… and for that I say, thank god for that. 

xx

 Photography by: Vicky Brassington

When it rains, it pours

I have an obsessive personality.

This isn’t the first time I have realized it, and although I’ve tried to deny it… it most certainly won’t be the last. Why, for as long as I can remember I have been easily influenced, persuaded or down right convinced on any subject someone is passionate to express to me. But for the past eight years, I have been my own worst enemy. It comes and goes. Perhaps for me, the most real thing in life is what I cant see. Whatever the case may be, whenever I come across something that is able to hold my attention for more than an hour, I become animalistic. Like something you see in Hoarders, I begin my research into a world I have not yet known will be the end of me. Books stack up in my room; I stay up late with only the glow of the computer screen as I dig deeper; until finally, it becomes all I think about.

In my new-found wisdom, I have discovered a pattern. But with my personality, I also have some reasoning behind my madness. Maybe it is my age of a young female that leads me to worship a strong female figure? Or maybe it’s my dreams creeping in to how I want to portray myself later in life, either way… it has become my present. I gawk over these women who have it all, yet at the end of the day, remain true to themselves. I envy them. But can’t look away. There I sit, glued, eyes as wide as they will go, sitting on the edge of my seat on my tippy-toes tempted to get closer. It makes me want to jump up and protest, change the world, or be the master temptress I know deep down is sitting in the same position as I am looking at you…

xx

21 things to do before 31

In light of my recent birthday, in which I supposedly became an adult, I would like to take a moment and go over some things I feel I need to do before I can actually be considered just that. If you have any of the same ones, share...don't just leave me hanging all alone here.

xx

1. Learn the difference between then and than
2. Compete in a race and be proud of my placing
3. Have followed my heart
4. Been thrown into something out of my comfort zone, and rocked it
5. Get myself into the career I always wanted
6. Write something, anything that I would be happy for others to read
7. Made at least one of the three biggest purchases in my life
8. Learn a language
9. Live on my own
10. Attend one of my best friends weddings
11. Attend one of my sister’s weddings - - -hint, hint.
12. Find my own style
13. Start using a day planner on a regular basis, not just when I feel like it
14. Travel more of the world
15. Visit the places in which my parents grew up
16. Argue like an adult, and not just swear to show frustration
17. Drink to drink, not to get drunk
18. Get myself my own dog
19. Learn about my family history
20. Being comfortable, confident and content in my own skin
21. Find someone I am so happy with that none of this matters

the only thing for certain is uncertainty

To be blunt, determination is choking me.

It seems everywhere I look its peaking right behind the corner. I want to scream at it, but know the response will come up empty...
Do you not see how badly I want this?
How do the Biggest Loser contestants have so much of you?
But most importantly, even though some people always have you, how do you turn selfishly turn around and take it away?

Everything always boils down to that simple word. Determination. And whether you had enough of it.
And Right now, I’m on the fence.


It’s like an ex-boyfriend you can’t shake, but when it comes down to it, do you honesty think you could?

I’ll bump into it face-to-face on occasion. And we’ll laugh and smile, all doubt will disappear. We’ll get a motivation boost from the excitement that this may work out after all. And like that pesty ex, I’ll apologize and fall into the pattern like nothing bad ever happened before this moment. It even foolishly get my hopes up that something good is going to come of it this time.

But…

Then there are moments when I feel like our relationship is dead. We tried all we could, but at the end of the day, we are like fire and gasoline. It’s causing me doubt, and I’m not helping it succeed: a word that usually is attached at its hip. So there we are, running around in circles crying wolf.


I try moving on alone, but the reality is, whether nothing good comes of you or not, it’s nice to know that at some point you will simply bring me what I’ve been wanting all along. Or so I keep hoping.
So, no! I have not completely lost you; I know you’re right there, sneaking up on my every step. Just hurry up and catch me, before I break up with you once and for all.
xx

You can never take the country outta the girl

Just a quick word:

My photography-addict-of-a-friend came to ask me for a favour a couple of weeks ago. After I stopped jumping up and down in excitement, I agreed to model for her once more. Which brings me to this lovely piece of news. The photo she took of me was so exceptional, and produced the thought-- “ more students should strive for this," in words of the professor, that it was picked to hang in the halls of Georgian College. Be sure to check out the Photographers Showcase when you are trying to think of a reason to be late for class!

I am very honored for her success and am very happy to be but a tiny part in the celebration with her hugely growing portfolio. Let’s wish her all the luck in the world —even though, we all know she doesn’t need it.

xx

VBrassington Flickr

"I don't mind making jokes, but I don't want to look like one."

I love fashion. But I hate change. 


Around this time last year, I went to the hair salon. Desperately needed a cut and after sitting in the chair for what seemed like hours, I'd decided I'd had enough of this and needed a, dare I say it? ...Change.
"Try and go back to my natural blonde please oh, and could you give me some bangs?" I looked at her with scolding eyes, as this is the first [& last] time I would ever trust a stranger with my hair. Another hour or so goes by, she blow drys me, gives me a hug [yes, I always get in my hairstylists good books-- I don't want to look like Lady Gaga at the end of it all] and I walk back to the boat I was on at the time. Everyone immediately started complimenting me on my hair. Saying how good it looked, and that it was a good choice to get bangs and a new hair colour. A new hair colour? Pardon? I ran to my mirror, realizing just how strange it was that they didn't really have any in the salon. As I came to it, to my horror, I was practically a brunette. I nearly cried. Being a blonde my whole life and actually loving it, I was mortified that this bitch had changed my hair so drastically. And I paid her to do it! 

Fast-forward a year. 
I am yet again in my "I want a change, but do I?" stage. Like the magazine-reading-whore I've become, I knew how drool worthy luscious red lips have become. Not to mention I gawk over the beautiful Marilyn Monroe posters in my room night after night. So it was only a matter of time before I jumped in too. 
I must say, when the Lize Waiter consult took me away from my "Burnt" in one hand and "Rose" red lip shade confusion in the other, I was rather relieved. Professional help was just what I needed. Half and hour later and I was caked in foundation and my lips glowed so red you'd think I just became a vampire. 
I was pleased. 
Finally, a change I think could really grow on me. . . 

xx

You're the kind of reckless that should send me running

I have this disease called addiction.

It’s not gambling, smoking, eating, hoarding or shopping – although I do have a rapidly growing collection of shoes, nail polish and products. But that’s more of a girl thing…

It’s classifying things in my life into ridiculous [sometimes unrealistic] categories.

It’s buying that one sweater when I absolutely don’t have money to spend on it, but walking with it in my hand out of the store, convincing myself I needed it.

It’s the, not so odd, glass bottle of wine that I’ve taken up on the weekends. 

It's kissing. 

It’s the feeling that I sometimes want to check Facebook even when there is no need.

It’s lying in bed on a rainy day

It’s singing hopelessly, terribly loud in the shower when I have no business singing out loud at all.

It’s the fact that I hate to text but do it anyways… a lot.

It’s worrying.

It's making others happy.

It’s having to watch TV before I go to bed. 

It's Subway. Eat Fresh.  

It’s watching full television series on my laptop.

It's keeping old notes/emails/cards from loved ones and re-reading them over and over again. 

It’s Hank Moody, McDreamy and DJ Pauly D.

It’s the act of getting addicted.

Just as I was doing a few of my addictions yesterday, the phone rang. There are few things I don't get in this world, but calls are one of them. Maybe its because I forget what my ringtone is, or maybe its because only 15 people have my cell phone number. Regardless, I picked it up not expecting much. So when I heard my doctor on the other end of the phone I perked right up. Turns out that this bad year of mine keeps on progressing. Ten minutes after I hung up the phone I had another appointment for that afternoon (which, if you have a family doctor, you know it is damn near impossible to arrange this within a few hours notice). Unless its absolutely necessary. After my 45 min appointment, I headed to Wal-Mart to pick up my new medication that, until 6 hours ago, I would have never of guessed I’d needed. I wondered how many other times I’d have to go the clinic on a day off? Or drop what I’m doing to make an emergency doctor visit? Or carry on living in a town I hate instead of traveling? Or, just get worried every time something miniscule changes with my body? I went home so frustrated, mad, pissed off and filled with questions. To top it all off, I now have a cold. Not a good combination.

Hello, my name is Alana...I have an addiction; it’s called a disease. 

xx

been losing faith for quite a while now.

Aug. 24

Today was my appointment with the doctor. A part from being so nervous I felt sick to my stomach, I managed to forget how to count, and walked right past suite 201. With my state of mind, filling out information sheets was the last thing I felt capable of doing, but if it was going to distract me from noticing I’m the only non-pregnant girl in the room- by all means!

I was eyes deep in my poetry book (yes, I carry one in my purse for moments such as this.) trying to relax when, “Alana? Alana Britten? The doctor will see you now.” I stood up, in what could only appear to be an unnecessarily, shocked jump, when the giant nine month pregnant lady gave me a pity smile. I walked to sit in the colourless office, and took the seat that was sturdy and perfectly placed next to the wall. It never occurred to me until now, but why is it that all doctors have chairs with wheels on them? Its not like they have a desk to sit behind or anything. Or are in the room long enough to take it for a ride in a 5 meter jaunt. 

No sooner do I take a seat, when the same shrill voice that called my name moments before, comes in to hand me a brouchure printed on the brightest, bluest paper I’d ever seen. So you know it must be important. I take one look at it and quickly shove it in my purse, as how could a LEEP (loop electrosurgical excision procedure) apply to me?

In attempts to keep my stressful mind-set at ease, I pick up the year old magazine (one I’d already read when it initially came out) and began flipping through it vigorously. I was, yet again, fully emerged in 2010’s summer hairstyles when, in walks a guy wearing dress pants and tie, holding a Tim Hortons coffee. He must be my doctor. It was hard to tell for sure, as the last time I saw him, he was head deep in my vagina and I didn’t exactly want to get a good look at his facial features, let alone look him in the eye. I keep thinking that each time I go to a gyno it will get easier to get over that fact, and in some ways it does, but it doesn’t stop it from being on the back of my mind each and every time.

The small chat that one would normally partake in with their doctors took place at this time. Mostly about the weather, with occasional references to how busy the waiting room is- and it was! But just as soon as it came, the small talk quickly turned serious as he explained to me the extend of the previous procedures results. I had been mentally preparing myself for the worst, so when the news of “pre-cancerous cells” came rambling out of his mouth, I let out a sigh of relief. Funny how a sentence containing the word cancer can go to complete opposite ends of the spectrum in seconds, isn’t it? Don’t get me wrong, I had wished the only “C” word that would be said in that room was “See you in another year!” but you don’t always get what you ask for. I figured this would be a good time to start controlling my facial expressions, as surely he could see I was about to burst into tears as he told me “I would have this problem for the rest of my life.” And I did. I left the room feeling a little bit better from his in-depth explanation as to what would happen next. I calmly made an appointment, grabbed my purse (which also doubles as my luggage these days) and walked in a quick but strong stride to the car. That’s when it happened. Tears. Before I even managed to shut the door.

I thought back to the last couple of years. The countless doctors visits, the endless worrying which often interrupted me from all my exciting adventures. I remembered how ever since my first abnormal pap test I was worried every single time something seemed out of place with my body.

What an exhausting past few years.

The tears continued for a few minutes until my alternative, realistic –often-considered “deep” mood kicked in. I started thinking about all the other woman out there who maybe have/had the same sort of results. All the ones that, were maybe too scared to go back and get it really dealt with- like I had originally been. I just hope, whatever the case may be, that they did bite the bullet and go. Because, although the doctors office may seem like a danger-zone to walk willingly into alone, you are anything but. They are there to help you and who knows, maybe your brave actions will help them catch it in time before anything more comes of it.

So, it could be worse. Other people are worse off then me, and I bet they didn’t break down in tears after their conversations with their doctor. I smarted up, wiped them away and put my truck into drive. 

 xx

my life has a superb cast, but i can't figure out the plot...

Before you get to excited. 

 No, these are horrible model shots, but yes, the photography is amazing. And the real reason I want everyone to see them, is so you will check out my best friends amazing photography. We have known each other since age four and it will be that way until we're 94. She is very talented, creative, goofy and going places I only dream of going. 

Click on any of the pictures to check her out, because when she's famous, I will tell you I told you so !

xx

are you my mama ?

Sunday:

Sitting downstairs taking a trip down memory lane with my bestie, when all of a sudden I hear a noise. Not only was the home video we were watching terribly embarrassing, but I had secretly been looking for an excuse to run away from my 13-year-old self dancing around in my PJ’s on the big screen! So when this noise came I practically leaped out of my chair even before it dawned on me that what could have made the sound could be worse then my past. Luckily, my bad year has taken a turn for the “mediocre” so when I saw a raccoon out there and not a black bear, I let out a sigh of relief.

Now don’t get me wrong, the number one wild animal all houses in the country have a hatred for, are those vicious garbage-craving, cat-food-eating jerks called raccoons. So it wasn’t unusual to see my dad holding a shot gun in his hand as he begins to tell me how this raccoon tried to “break into our house.” As I take a look at this raccoon my dad is now calling a “crook”, I can’t help but let out a big “AWWE!” This baby raccoon is lost, tiny and just looking for someone to point him in the direction of his mama. He is far from the crook my dad was willing to give a B&E too, that is for sure. I will give my dad credit – he was trying to get into the house and he was running up and down the porch trying to trick us to open the door, but this raccoon was nothing more than an adorable, cuddly animal I was willing to bring into the house [if only my dad didn’t stop me.]

He cried outside our house all night long and was even there the next morning for a bit. 

Monday evening:

My sister and her boyfriend were out in the driveway saying goodbye, when all of a sudden we hear a high-pitch scream, which could only have come from a girl. Turns out the scream came as this cute raccoon started chasing my sister’s boyfriend up our drive. And when we tried to chase him away, he came up to our other porch and just kept reaching out his little paw to us. Having had a run in with a bit bigger wild animal myself earlier in life, I knew I was not touching this thing without a rabbies-free, clean-bill of health. Next thing I know my sister has her hand out, and its crawling all over her like that’s all it was wanting this whole time; a little human contact. Well that was the end of it. I was no sooner sticking my hand out, only to have it suck on my finger thinking it was miraculously going to be getting milk out of it! I stayed outside with him sitting in my lap, feeding him milk and crackers till 2a.m. I’m a tough person, but I’m a sucker for animals. Thankfully I wasn’t alone, as my other friend came over to see what all the fuss was about… and one minute after meeting Doug (yes, I had gotten so attached I had already given him a name!) he was convinced he was going to take him home. After giving him five to many crackers, I thought I had killed the poor bugger as he was desperately in need of water, but he lived to see another day… that was after he ran around from porch to porch for an hour after I left, crying for me! Damn he is so cute, I don’t know how I am going to give him up. 

Tuesday:

It’s raining when I wake up. And its immediately clear to me that Doug doesn’t like getting wet, as his head is wedged between my house and my bench, under our canopy outside, while his back end is hanging out for me to see he is still alive. I come back from town and he is awake when my friend and I try to go in the hot tub. A small fact I misjudged about Doug, he doesn’t hate the water, he loves it. Not only does he pace back and forth trying to get on my shoulders and grab at my bikini strings (Doug is also becoming a little pervert!). But he is putting both his front paws in the hot tub, and is ready to make a long leap into the water with me! I fed him (against my mom’s dismay) and start playing with him, as Doug also gets quite frisky. He is throwing up his toy Garfield in his hands and strutting with him in his mouth as he wrestles with my sister and I. Doug gets more visitors then someone in the hospital, so the rest of the day people were coming by and playing with him and feeding him scraps. He was getting really attached to me, so whenever he got scared or unsure of something, he would run to me and jump on my lap for comfort. Doug was soon becoming my new favourite animal, and my cats are now ignoring me because of it. And just as I was becoming this little rascals new mama, my one friend and his mom came and picked him up to take to their home. They’d raised raccoons before, so I know he is going to a great home! I still miss the little squirt, but on the plus side, I no longer hear his sad crying whenever I am inside trying to sleep. 

Wednesday:

Long story short, Doug was not liking the counter tops at my friends house and was clearly trying to get into the redecorating course at Georgian by throwing everything off that he could grab. Needless to say, it was just after noon when I picked him up and brought him inside my house instead. If I thought he was curious outside, you should have seen him inside. Sniffing every single thing, and jumping around on the couch, like I use to do when I was four! It was very cute. Not to mention, he would not let me out of his sight, so he followed me up and down every flight of stairs I went! (Doug definitely got his work out that day.)

After dinner Doug decided that it would be a good time for us to take a nap, so we did. He had a few more visitors, and I am sad to say, that Doug is now more popular then I. Later that night, I curled up on the couch with Doug and him and I slept sound fully until 6 a.m. the next day, when he wanted to play. This is when we parted ways and I went to sleep in my bed and he wondered around outside!

Thursday:

Doug and I spend our last few hours together fighting, napping and him following me around the house in the morning as I got ready for the day. Side note # 123, he does not like the sound of a door shutting loudly by the wind; in fact, he hates it and jumps 2ft in the air when he hears it.

Dad and I drove Doug to his new home. I like to call her “The Coon Lady,” and yes, she is just as crazy as you would imagine someone who surrounds themselves with raccoon’s day in and day out. It was a tearful goodbye but it was fun while it lasted!

your voice is the soundtrack to my summer

I know I've said this before. But, I'm a music junkie. I don't know what it is about a soulful voice, life shattering lyrics or a mix of beats that just makes me jump out of my skin and fall in love. Along with music, comes my pure obsession with emotionally raw words. Quotes, words of wisdom, confessions, whatever it may be, I can't eat it up fast enough. I am a sucker for love.

Lately I haven't been one for talking, just writing. I find myself listening to music and getting inspired to write something, anything, even just remotely as meaningful. I can't let on what I'm writing, as I am not even sure myself. What I do know? Below you will find a sample of what reached me on more levels then one, and I hope you will find the same desire in them as well. 

Enjoy. xx

So watch and learn
I won't show you twice
Head to toe, ooh baby, roll me right
But if I share my secret
You gonna have to keep it
Nobody else can see this

And it goes like this.

Take me by the tongue
And I'll know you
Kiss til you're drunk
And I'll show you

You want the moves like jagger

I don't even try to control you
Look into my eyes and I'll own you

                            -- Maroon 5 

Watch your face and laugh just a little bit,
Everybody knows that you're good at it,
But nothin' hurts like an answer phone
Drinkin' some, wakin' up alone.

Maybe if I try just a little more,
I can take myself from this dirty floor
and walk through buildings of elegance
Just like you are intelligent

I know my place, 

but it don't know me. 

                       -- Band of Skulls

Baby why you wanna cry?
You really oughta know that I
Just have to walk away sometimes.
We’re gonna do what lovers do
We’re gonna have a fight or two
But I ain’t ever changin’ my mind

Crazy girl, don’t you know that I love you?
And I wouldn’t dream of goin’ nowhere
Silly woman, come here, let me hold you
Have I told you lately?
I love you like crazy, girl

Wouldn’t miss a single day
I’d probably just fade away
Without you, I’d lose my mind.
Before you ever came along
I was livin’ life all wrong
Smartest thing I ever did was make you all mine

                                   -- Eli Young Band

The ABC's of what I've been up too lately.

A – for Adele. I’ve been listening to her soulful voice every chance I get.

B – for Bakery. My middle sister just turned 28, and being the jobless girl I am, I proposed to her that I would make a Cake Boss Cake. Well…let me tell you, I followed the directions to a Tee (not usually easy for me to do!). Did it take all day to make? Yes. Was it worth it? Ugh, that’s up for debate. It tasted fine, but all in all I think dishing out the money for a DQ cake would have been much more appropriate. Needless to say, I’m not opening up my own bakery anytime soon!

C – for Concerts. I’ve been a concert junkie all my life, but only now is it coming out of the closet. I snuck in to see a 70’s rock band at a motorcycle event, went to see Brad Paisley and Eric Church, went with my dad to see Alan Jackson, Big and Rich and Gretchen Wilson, and this weekend is Kempenfest! Love it! 

D – for Drive-in. I’ve only been once this summer and I must say I’m disappointed in myself. But being the long weekend, and the night owl I am, I would have to say a Dusk till Dawn (three movies and two bags of popcorn later) is in order! Any one wanna come with?

E – for Excitement ! My bestie from Waterloo is up this weekend and I can’t wait to sit in the hot tub with a glass of wine and catch up with her!

F – for Freaked the F out ! I’ve been doing a lot of running/walking lately and yesterday my worst nightmare was confirmed. My neighbor has spotted a black bear not once, but TWICE around our house. Bear Bell here I come!

G – for Golden Girls. Not only should I get double points if we were playing Scattagories, but I have been falling in love with this show. You gotta love the Déjà View channel, which shows an hour of these hilarious woman every day.

H – for Hurley, my cat. I saved her from the storm early this morning when she was stuck outside in the down pour and she hasn’t left me alone ever since!

I – for Ice Cream. It may be shocking to some, but I hate Chocolate anything, but if you got soft serve Vanilla, sign me up.

J – for Juggling. I still don’t know how to do it L

K – for Klondike Bar, although your commercials are amusing, I would do nothing for you!

L – for L.a.m.b. Yes, you heard right ladies. I have purchased my first l.a.m.b. bag, well I like to think of it as more of an investment. And sorry boys, but this is the new love of my life!

M – for Megan. I miss her so much.

N – for Not a chance in the world will I ever grow out of sleeping in during a thunderstorm.

O – for Okay, I didn’t think this ABC thing through,.. this is getting tough(er).

P – for Pink. That’s the colour nail polish I can’t get enough of on my toe nails this summer.

Q – for Q-Tips. Who invented those things anyways? I think they are dangerous and freak me out when someone comes after me with one.

R –  for Rogers. I really hate you’re phone company. I think that speaks for itself.

S – for Sewing. Sure I was in girl guides for a many years and know how to sew, which is exactly why I have started making myself a dress to express my talents to the world…pft, not really, but we’ll see.

T – for Time. Where does it go? It’s noon and I’m still in my pj’s. This may or may not have happened yesterday as well !

U – for the U.K. I know this sounds weird, but often when I travel people always guess that I am British. They also like to say that I am Australian…then again, at least English makes sense because I have pale skin!

V – for Vagasil commercials. HA HA HA , They make me laugh every time.

W – for Weekend. Just because I have trouble remembering what day or the week it is most of the time, does not mean I don’t know when the weekend is here. Especially a Long one, at that.

X –  for X-rated. I would love to share this one with you, but like the cosmopolitan-Sex and the City girl that I am…. I never kiss and tell.

Y –  for Yahtzee. That is the ultimate game to play at the cottage under candle light.

Z – for Zebra. I love everything with that hot, sexy print all over it!

it's always been you

There is a four-letter word that has been bothering me a lot more than usual. No, its not a swear word, those never bother me. And no, it is not describing the weather- even though I know it has been freakishly hot lately. It’s the good old fashion word that scares some people to death, yet to some it comes so easily you wonder what’s wrong with me?

Love.

Its something I’ve truly only experienced once. However, I think that me being only 20, its not a bad thing to limit the amount of times I say it aloud – minus the times I say it to my family and friends. But that’s not the kind of love I’ve been having a problem with. My friends and family are always there for me, and when one often uses that fearful little word to others, family and friends always goes hand-in-hand. But it’s the love between a simple man and a simple woman that I’m talking about today.

Why is it that some can experience it time and time again, when others are still trying to figure out if they’ve even had it at all? People sing songs, write breath-taking poems and even confess about it in unusual places. It causes headaches, nausea, sleep-loss and uncontrollable emotions. It can bring you up into some ones arms, or make you crumble to your knees. It’s ugly, beautiful, lying and powerful. It never ceases to amaze me what a little love can do, but it also doesn’t shock me when it comes crashing and burning. Maybe I’m being a little negative about it all, but I think at the moment I have good reason.

My sad story has been about five-years in the making. And it has caused me so much delight, pleasure and pain that I would need another five-years to describe it to you.  However, this pair that I speak of are by no means a match made in heaven. When one of us is adventurous, fun and makes the best out of what they have, the other is intelligent, goes for what they want and is grounded. But it works for them. These two have helped each other out in ways I never knew friends could have, and fight like there is no tomorrow. There have been long periods in which they don’t speak and times when they are inseperable, but at the end of the day they always come back to each other.

Now I know this happens a lot more in life then I would even like to consider, but timing was never their strong suit. When one is tied down, the other is not and visa versa. It’s a story Hollywood has written a million times, and is surely going for a tragic-love story ending, in which I can only assume takes place at an altar.

This is why my four-letter word problem can be followed by another eight-letter word. Hopeless.Perhaps I'm leaving parts out of this situation, but I feel that Mr. Depp says it much better than I ever could. Cheers, Johnny.

xx

i'll sleep when i'm dead.

We all need a little more adventure in our lives...

So talking with my best friend (we've been bff's since age 4!) we decided it had been all too long since we'd both put down our cellphones and busted out the paddles. So we did just that. One extremely windy day (No, we didn't intent on it being that way)  we woke up early and loaded the canoe on top of her little mazda and drove to Nottawasaga River in search of the same adventure from five years earlier. And we did!... Not only did I get us lost while holding a map in my hand, but we had to pull over several times in order to assure the canoe wouldn't fly off the roof and land on the road behind us or even worse, on someones car! When I finally managed to get us back on the right road, the river was lovely, and our paddling skills came back so naturally it's as if we'd never stopped. We caught up on each others lives and even brown bagged it for lunch, it was amazing and I can't wait to do it again. Of course it did help that we only had to paddle 1/4 of the way back! You gotta love rivers and their currents.

 Ah yes, then comes the good'ole Warrior Dash! Ironically enough when I got let go from my job from a fractured foot, the last thing I had on my mind was doing a 5km extreme obstacle course on ski hills. But I couldn't resist! I signed up so fast I didn't even consider the thought of further damage to my body. And believe me, I did a real number! 

Not only was this course filled with deep mucky-mud puddles that contained rocks so sharp in them you'd mistake it for broken glass, but it also had rough dirt paths and extreme heights. During the 40-something minutes it took me to complete it, we hurdled over and under ropes, tires, hay bails, cars, and fire! My favourite part however, was the giant slip n'slide that they had man-made on one of the ski hills. This so called "water slide" had no qualities that would pass for a slide at Wonderland, nor the safety. The only thing it had in common with an actual water slide was the water, and even that was a stretch. Thinking this was going to be by far the best part of the race, I took a running leap and slammed my body against it hoping to make up for some lost time. The second I did, I immediately regretted my decision. Now I was hurdling (at a good speed) towards the center of this tarp that had a thin coating of water on it, with huge rips in it revealing the MASSIVE bed of rocks underneath it. Sure enough as I see this and try to quickly change my course away from the rocks and come to the realization that this is why I had to sign a waiver, my sister slams into the back of me giving me an extra boost into the deathly rocks. For lack of some swearing and cursing that came after that, I will just let you know that I now have the biggest case of rock and gravel burn on my ass and knee's you've ever seen! Who decided to build a water slide on a bed of rocks with a tarp thinner then wax paper is beyond me, but I paid the price!

I wouldn't say it's as bad as the time I fell off a moving scooter in Ft. Lauderdale, but it's a close second. Just when I thought my torture was over from this race of hell, my sister and I go to jump into the mud pit at the end and crawl under the 'fake barbwire'! Well fake my ass, my hair gets caught in it and reefs my neck back into the most awkward position of life and now I have another injury to add to my list!

... I crossed the finish line and immediately wanted my free beer (well technically, that beer cost me $60 in registration fees!) But it never tasted so good, let me tell you.

Once we went and dropped our shoes off in the shoe donation pile, mine which no doubt had a full making of a swamp inside them, we got hosed down. Yes, something that I thought would never compare to my $60 mildly cold beer! But standing there with 50 of my closest muddy warriors we lined up and got hosed down by firefighters! If that isn't worth all my blood and sweat, I don't know what is! By the time we got home, my lack of hydration had been replaced by alcohol and my scraps and cuts burned terribly as I tried to get the caked on mud out of my hair and nose. Just know that I didn't call it a night and go to bed early, which I could have easily done. I was a champ and went out with the girls to throw down a little rodeo at the ranch. Notice how I'm the one who looks like a lobster from all the sun and running, not really a good look for me.

It was great fun, however for the next few days until my ass-scrap calms down, I am limited to wearing skirts and dresses. Just what a jean-short wearing tom-girl likes to hear in the middle of summer ! Greeeeaaat.

xx

If you're a strong female, you don't need permission

People piss me off sometimes. 
And lately, i'm not naming names, it's been happening on a more regular basis. 
I realize people have opinions and some may be more willing to share them then others. So there you are listening to other peoples nasty (let's be honest, no one is positive anymore) comments and rude remarks and find yourself at a loss for words. If you're me, you go for the nervous laugh and pray to God that the subject changes soon. But how many times can you really talk about the weather in the same conversation?

I like to consider myself an educated opinionater (no, that is not a real word, but yes, that is how I am!). This definition to me means that I am well versed in both sides of the world around me and feel I play the 'pros and cons' to each side before I make up my mind. Coming from a journalism program, I am also not quick to believe everything people say and do my own research first. I know I am not always politically correct and believe me when I say I am trying my best to work that especially after what just happened to me.
That being said, listen to this.
The other day a person sat me down and talked to me about a subject as normal as any other. This person was explaining their "ins and outs" and how they expected others behaviour to be. Then the person said this, "I don't like nigg*rs, and I hate fagg*ts. I will not tolerate their behaviour and I think they all have a mental illness" 
And just like that, my conversation went from Boring to Messed up in four seconds flat. 
Truth be told, this conversation happened four days ago now, and it is still upsetting me. 
I understand there are kinds of people who speak freely about this and hey, they have a right to their own opinion. But just because that is your opinion, it doesn't mean that it is anywhere near mine. Speaking of being honest, I wish I could go back four days to that very moment and stand up to this individual. Tell them I appreciate their opinion but that is not how I feel and truth be told, I think that it is very rude of you to use those words so openly as you just did. And tell them that if they are around me I would like them to keep those thoughts to themselves. But that damn old nervous laugh of mine just popped up so fast I didn't even know where it came from... and this is why I am thankful for my reflects sometimes.

I felt I had to share this because I want everyone to know that they should stand up for what they believe in. Also for the woman out there, don't feel that you have to change your opinion based on what a man's opinion is. We are strong and independent and have just as much right to have and share them as men do. 


&& that is my rant for the day. 

xx

The 'Then'

My creativity is at all all time high. Sure, I may be forgetting to lock the front door on my way out or let my sisters dog weasel out of her leash and collar, but that is minor in the scheme of things. 
I have been enjoying working around the house to make it look ten-years younger. I am fixing, painting, organizing and beatifying everything around me. Crafts never seemed so fun, and it makes me want to re-live my summer from 10 years ago. 
So I am. Only modified. 
The only real reason I get up is to work on my sweet tan lines. The only thing better than enjoying a Popsicle on a hot day is going for a dip in the pool. And I have finally brushed the dust off of all the novels I've longed to read for years. I am expanding my culinary pallet by cooking in the evenings, and I am finally watching all the black and white movies I kept saying I would. 
Sure, I have been job-hunting like it's my job (which, go figure it is!). But I feel like I have missed my window. Am I okay with that? Probably not. I desperately miss making new friends and forgetting what part of the world I'm in while drinking in a pub, but I know this will happen again in the future. So for right now I am enjoying the summer like in my golden days, work-free might I add.Why yes, I think this is exactly the summer the doctor ordered.