Shattered, or respected?

Rules. 
Who follows them? 
Or better yet, who breaks them? 
I don't want to sound like the wise old woman of centuries past, but why do we even need so many of them? Sure, I am one of those "realists" if you will. Go ahead, point that boney finger in my direction. But, before you do.. think for a second
When did we become so damn dependent on that four letter (five, if you use it in plural) word? 
Rule(s). 
They pop up in the simplest things (Ikea furniture), yet go without notice in even greater complexity (having a child).  And don't even get me started on the 21st century relationship problems -- a hint, they are in jpeg format above. Don Cherry wouldn't have his weekly seven minutes of fame if it weren't for them, and base jumping wouldn't have been invented if it weren't for people trying to break them.

Maybe I am the one who asks to many questions.. but it's only because I push the boundaries of how I like to live,.. and I will prove my point by asking you this. When have your silly little rules ever let you do what my questions have?
xx

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