It’s no secret that I love makeup. It’s been my one true passion, since I was a child. To look at me you’d think I like attention. I have teal blue hair, bright blue eyebrows, wear crazy colored lipsticks, and all of the colors on my eyes, in strange places. Really though, I hate having attention focused on myself.

I wear the crazy things, because one, makeup is fun and it washes off, and two, it’s a creative outlet. I love keeping it weird. I don’t mind the stares I get, mostly from children, and the comments, mostly from adults. My favourite comments are when people compare me to a mermaid, and really that’s such a compliment!

I love not wearing makeup also. Most of the time I go makeup free, and it feels great to be able to rub my eyes, or touch my face without worrying about smearing my eyebrows or mascara. But I look forward to the days when I leave the house and have to pick which colors to wear, or where to put them. It’s just so much fun to play with color.

Sometimes though, I wear it as a mask. If I’m not comfortable around someone, I can put on a face and hide behind it. It’s almost a wall, put up until I’m comfortable enough to let you see the real me. The one that’s neurotic, and anxious, and sad, and a bit crazy. She’s the one not quite confident enough to go without her mask, so she makes it pretty, and weird, and colorful, to distract from the real crazy.


Things I would buy if I won the lottery:

  • Three houses. One in Vancouver to live in. One in Kelowna to summer in, and a condo in Calgary to visit in.
  • A fancyish car
  • Furnishings for all three houses
  • Hire a decorator to furnish said houses
  • All of the makeup!
  • A big vacation
  • Multiple cats
  • Maybe a dog
  • New clothes
  • I’d get my boobs done, and probably some lypo, and fillers
  • Laser hair removal
  • More makeup


Sex. Let’s talk about that for a minute.

I wish, when I was a teenager ready to make that leap, that someone had told me things about sex that no one talks about, other than abstinence, std’s, and safe sex.

Like sex is messy. Incredibly so! If you’re not using a condom, what goes in must come out, and at the most inopportune times. It’s gross. If I would have known that, I’d probably have used condoms and not had so many useless pregnancy scares.

Our bodies make noises. Not just the animalistic noises made during pleasure, but the slapping of skin on skin, and air being pushed in and out. It’s just what happens, and nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s actually really funny too.

The best sex is the kind where you laugh at yourselves. Noises, and fluids, and grunting, and sometimes, drooling, all lead to laughing and having a great time. Sex shouldn’t be serious all the time, it should be fun!

Experiment with your sexuality! Explore the options you’re drawn to, and don’t limit the possibilities. Being tied up, different positions, oral, anal, bdsm, and all of the above. When you’re comfortable with your partner, (and you always should be) try all of the things! I was always so timid and afraid of what I’d look like instead of just being in the moment. It’s when you let go and lose control, that you can really enjoy yourself.

Most of all, don’t be ashamed of your sexuality. I developed at a very early age, and was shamed by the feelings I was having. Parents and grandparents telling me it was dirty and bad. That’s such a terrible thing to teach a child. Sexuality and sexual feelings are the most normal thing in the world. Yes, there is a time and a place for it, but it’s neither dirty, nor bad. I’ve always had a high sex drive, and am glad that I didn’t let those people telling me it was bad, stop me from being my true self.

These are just a few things I wish I’d known. Things I wish people would talk about, because knowing this is just as important to me, as knowing the importance of safe sex. But instead, parents like to focus on abstinence, when we all know, it’s not very realistic.


Sometimes my head gets so full that I can barely think more than two steps from where I am. I start feeling constricted and I can’t move. Even writing this post is hard because my head won’t let me go there.

Being stuck in traffic with large vehicles on both sides gets me all panicky.

I’ve only started wearing jeans again last fall, because tight clothing makes me feel constricted as well. Mostly I’ll opt for long flowy dresses. Cute and comfortable.

Distractions are the best thing when I’m feeling constricted. Something fluffy and light, something I don’t have to pay too much attention to, and nothing too noisy.


Most people have fomo to some degree or another. My mother is no exception. She’s quite ridiculous really. If she’s not included she gets all pouty and indignant.

I don’t tend to feel the same. The thing with me is I’m not scared of missing out, and I’d probably rather not do whatever it is, but I would like to be asked. Being asked to do something even if you think you know the answer is a big deal to me.

Most of the time I’m over looked, or not even considered at all because more often than not, I’ll decline an invitation, since I get such anxiety even thinking about whatever it is that’s going on. The thing is, it’s just plain hurtful. I can look out the window and see what’s going on (since family lives across the road) and plainly see I wasn’t even considered.

All the hurt over the years of not being even asked turns into resentment, until I don’t feel comfortable around even family. It’s not a good feeling, knowing you’re not welcome in someone else’s home, and if the shoe were on the other foot, I know they would feel the same way I do.


Most of my days are spent alone, and I quite enjoy my solitude. I’m very much an introvert so I crave alone time, but there are times where I get quite lonely.

I never really had friends in high school and when we moved to a completely different province and city, I had a hard time making friends as well. We had a small group we’d get together with on weekends but not much more than that. Not to mention they weren’t really our friends. At one point something happened and we all fell apart. People were hurt and the rest got lost in the fallout.

It’s hard not having friends when you get lonely. It’s even harder when you have social anxiety. I tend to separate myself from people so I won’t get hurt by them and it alienates me. So I sit at home, alone, wishing someone would reach out, but not having the strength to do it myself, and I get lonely.


I like to think of myself as being an immaculate conception, since I have no father. There once was one, in my life, but he wasn’t a good one. He’s still my brother’s dad, since he was, and clearly still is, the favourite. It’s a hard thing, knowing that the person who should love and care for you unconditionally, doesn’t want you.

I grew up with a single mom, and a brother. Every other weekend was spent with his dad, along with every other Easter and Christmas, and two weeks in the summer. We had fun out there, with him, but mostly it was uncomfortable, and a bit on edge. He was a mean man. I know he’s where I get my temper from, and mine is nowhere near what his is. He never hit or hurt us, but oh did he yell!

When I announced at the age of 18 that I was getting married, he decided that he wanted nothing else to do with me. He didn’t want to meet my now husband, and grudgingly agreed to come to the wedding, after I called and asked him to reply to the invitation. He no showed to the reception, and that was it. That was the last I saw of my brother’s dad. Until my brother got married.

He fawned over my now sister-in-law. Went happily to the wedding and reception, and even hosted them in his home, and still sees them frequently. Over the years when my grandmother would come to visit, I would offer to have him come as well but there was always some story about a friend or other he had to go see.

It’s been 17 years since my wedding, and I’m sometimes still sad about the way he made things go. Thanks to him I have abandonment issues, that I don’t think I’ll ever get rid of. I’d like to say my life is better without him in it, and it probably is, but there’s still that little girl inside of me that wonders, what if?


There’s something very comforting when a favourite childhood book is turned into a movie. All the imagining whilst reading and picturing things in your head, all the voices you hear that belong to different characters, and all the wonderful places you go to, realized into something that can be seen and not just felt.

One of my most favourite books from my childhood is The BFG by Roald Dahl. It’s such a beautiful story full of funny, sad, and wonderful things. I remember going to the video store and seeing it as a cartoon so many times after, and now, as I’m grown and so much older I love rewatching beloved old movies like that.

I’m so happy that Disney has finally made a full length movie about The BFG, and by the looks of the trailer it’s going to be good! I can only hope this will bring more children to all those amazing books out there, and that in years to come, maybe they’ll look back as I do and watch and read those wonderful stories with great nostalgia.



I hate Mothers Day.

People don’t realize how hard it is for people who can’t have kids to hear about Mothers Day non-stop. Nothing says “hey you’re defective, but you should celebrate all the others who aren’t” like mothers day. I genuinely loathe being obligated to go celebrate others, and then listen to them not only talk about being a mom, but also bitch about how their husbands/kids didn’t do enough for them. They didn’t get to sleep in, they had to work that day, or the gift they received wasn’t as good as the one they got their husband for Father’s Day.

I can hide it pretty well, how much not being able to have kids affects me, and other than my husband, I don’t think anyone really gets how much it still bothers me. No matter what, always and forever, I will want a child.

We tried for seven years. Seven years full of failure and hope and depression, with no success. Doctors appointments and tests and drugs were no help, and so, we decided that we would stop. It got to be too much, and the rest of the options were too expensive, so now it’s just us. Just a couple, who get no recognition for the things we’ve endured, and the challenges we’ve faced, and in spite of it all, we’re strong and together when many fail and fall apart.

So that is why, I hate Mother’s Day. I probably always will.