Saturday, 31 December 2011

I May Be Awesome, But I'm Also A Dork

When the nice (young) plumber came to do something to my sink last week, we chatted a bit and on his way out, he wished me a Merry Christmas.

"You too!" I said, cheerfully, just having eaten a bunch of delicious chocolates C-Dawg gave me.

"And hopefully the world won't end in 2012!" I exclaimed as he headed out the door.

Um. Why my brain thought that was a) funny and b) funny enough to say to a stranger I don't know.

But it did.

I'm such a dork.


So, if you're heading out tonight, be safe and sensible and if, like me, you're just cozying up under a blanket and watching the night sky as the clock switches over to midnight, may the new year be one filled with joy and peace, health and happiness, love and contentment, good fortune and strength.

Happy New Year everyone! See you in 2012!

Friday, 30 December 2011

Pretty Proud Of Myself

Golden Days by foundimagination
I decided, probably right around the time I wrote this post, that I needed a new shower head in my apartment.

The new one they'd put in was too spread out, if that makes sense. (Lots of space between the water, so it felt impossible to get, for example, soap out of my hair or off my face, etc.) So I decided to see if I could fix it.

First of all, I checked the attachment and then I went and got a new shower head. Sure, maybe not one as awesome as my parents' but still, better than the "oh, wait, is there supposed to be a concentration of water?" one.

Then, I brought it home and opened up my (decidedly lame) toolkit and realized I didn't have the tool I needed, but would try to make do.

Which didn't work.

So I called my Dad.

"Dad? I need to borrow a tool to put on a new shower head. Kind of like a pair of pliers or something, but not quite."

My Mom tried to tell me that I should just get the manager to fix it for me, but I told her that I figured I could do it myself.

Dad got me exactly what I needed (and neither of us could come up with the right adjustable...thingamy?) and I headed home to see if I could make this thing work.


Unscrewed the old guy (yes, used a towel between the thingamies to make sure I didn't scratch/dent the metal) and screwed on the new guy and tightened everything and even held my breath when I turned on the water but yay no leaks!

And yay! New awesome shower!

At which point I called my Mom.

"Rawr!" I said.

"Pardon?" she said.

"I am a woman. Did you just hear me roar?"

Yeah. I'm kind of awesome right now.

Plus, my hair is really really clean.

Thursday, 29 December 2011


My new upstairs neighbour is eighteen.

I know this, because we're all incredulous about it.

How is she affording this? (I was living with my parents to afford paying my own way through University at eighteen.) How does she seem so much more mature when you meet her? (She really does, very polite and mature for her age I think. Not that I know any other eighteen year olds for comparison, but still.)

So while she may be a polite, mature young lady, unfortunately, her friends are still eighteen.

And I am not.

Which explains why I was asleep at eleven pm on a Monday night the other week.

And why I did not expect a knock at my door.

But being older than eighteen, I also expected the knocker to realize they were in the wrong place and move on to the correct door (which I assumed was upstairs since there still aren't too many of us in the building and the lady across from me is away right now.)

Alas, the knocker did not share my....intelligence thinking, and knocked again.


Which, really, completely woke me up.

Which, really, completely pissed me off. (I'm a sleep hog. Don't mess with my sleep.)

So when said knocker decided to call out to his not-answering-the-door friend "OH ANGELLLAAAAAAAA! *knock, knock, knock*" I decided to get out of bed and yell through the door that he had the wrong door and needed to go up a flight.

"Oh . . . Yeah?"


I don't know the girl upstairs and I certainly don't know her friends, but even the year I lived in residence, people knew better than to continue knocking on a door that wasn't being answered. Especially when you have to get buzzed in to the building.

So, unfortunately, the saga of the not-quite-ideal-return-to-my-place continues.

At least my parents never knocked on my door once I was asleep asking for Angela. But, then again, I'm pretty sure they're not eighteen either.

Wednesday, 28 December 2011

A Dark and Twisty One

Twist by foundimagination
What this time of year does is condenses the opportunities for me to get hurt.

It piles a whole lot of those opportunities together and even if things were to go really really well, hurts still happen and when they feel like they're happening with no recovery time in between? Yeah. That's what makes right now so damn hard for me.

I have hopes. Hopes of how things will go. Hopes of how happy a gift will make someone. Hopes of how time with family will go or how friends will want to hang out or just plain old regular hopes of good things.

And best laid plans of mice and men style, things rarely go as I hope.

I'm almost always happier before the gift is given than after its been opened.

Time with family is better left to the tv shows and the movies that gloss over what it's actually like when you put so many different personalities and expectations together and hope no one annoys anyone else.

It's too many ouches all packed on top of each other.

It's like a guy you really like not wanting to date you anymore the week after you get kicked out of your apartment but on repeat.

And minus the August sunshine and longer days.

This year, to be honest, was better than most, because I was aware of all these things and potential hurts and I did what I could to avoid them or at least, expect them and therefore not be blindsided by them.

Now to survive New Year's.

With no one, yet again, to kiss when the clock strikes midnight.

Damn I'm miserable today. Sorry.

Tuesday, 27 December 2011

Plus Ça Change

Last December, my best friend was visiting, with her husband, from across the country where they'd moved.

This December, they're no longer married, she's living back here where she belongs, and she's in a solid new relationship.

Last December, I was single. This December, I'm single.

It's funny how one person can go through so much change while another maintains the status quo.

In some ways, I could see it as hopeful and inspiring. I mean, this time last year no one would never have predicted my friend spending Christmas day with a new boyfriend, so maybe next year I'll be the one introducing a new guy to my family, who knows.

But, of course, there's that part of me that says that this is just further proof that I'm not meant to be with anyone, that I'm not going to find anyone and that I really should just stop looking forward to what isn't going to happen anyway.

It feels like I'm always battling the be hopeful/be realistic/be bitter/stop caring relationship battle with myself.

And today, I'm choosing to see my friend's relationship as a sign that anything can happen. Even wonderful, happy things you can't see coming.

Saturday, 24 December 2011

To You

Merry Christmas To Us All by foundimagination
Merry Christmas you guys.

I'll see you in a couple/few days.

If you're celebrating, I hope you have lots of hugs and love and some good memories are made.

If you're not, I hope you have a solid, relaxing weekend anyway.

Wishing you all the best for a very happy Christmas, and saying thanks.

Thanks for always being here and for keeping on reading and for sending me love and hugs and support when I've needed it most. Thanks for making me feel not alone and not as crazy as I always think I am. And thanks for laughing right along with me and reminding me not to give up. On anything. Ever.

Hugs and love,

Friday, 23 December 2011


You know how sometimes you get someone a present but you're not sure if they'll like it?

Or maybe they'll already have it and you'll feel dumb for giving it to them?

That's how I feel about the present I'm about to give you.

I'm hoping you'll love it as much as I do (which is a lot) but I'm also nervous that you might hate it (it's possible) or that you might know about it already (some of you must) but, in the spirit of giving, and to keep you entertained for a few days while I juggle this that and the other, here's a present for you. I hope you like it...

And apologies for potentially taking over your life in advance:


Thursday, 22 December 2011

Alrighty Then

So I finally let some Christmas spirit sneak in.

Just enough to let me enjoy singing along to carols in my car and look at the Christmas lights as sparkly pretty things in the dark.

And what did it you ask? What tipped me over into "ok, fine, I'll join in" land?

Cheesy, wonderful, happy, touching tv Christmas episodes that actually made me cry and smile and feel, well, Christmassy.

So, thanks Glee. And thanks The New Girl.

I would have missed out on a lot of Christmas carol singing if it wasn't for you.

Wednesday, 21 December 2011

A Little Slice Of Heaven

I miss my parents' shower.


Their ensuite bathroom is the most heavenly bathroom I've ever seen and I miss their shower.

See, when my parents moved into their place, they completely reno-d their kitchen and their ensuite bathroom, and pretty much left the rest of the house alone, other than a new coat of paint or two.

Their bathroom is clean and simple, a design aesthetic I share with my parents, but that's not what makes it awesome. What makes it awesome is the heated tiles (to die for) and the shower.

The walk in, have a seat at the end if you want to, or if not, choose the regular shower head or the (wait for it) magical, delicious, rain shower head.

Now, I didn't start out using my parents' bathroom for showering, but my Mom insisted.

No, really, she said, you'll love it, please use it. It's our favourite thing, you need to see how wonderful it is!

And so, after a couple of weeks, just to stop them from asking if I'd tried it, I tried it.

And it was awesome.

I'm not sure what I loved more. The heated tiles, or the massive shower.

Or maybe it was the magical combination of them both.

But whatever it was, I miss my parents' shower.

This one here just isn't cutting it.

I miss my little slice of watery heaven.

*dreamy sigh*

Tuesday, 20 December 2011


Pretty! by foundimagination
There's about a third of my building who are previous tenants who decided to return. And while I didn't really know anyone that well before the whole "you have to leave now ok bye" thing, there was something about the incredibly unsettling experience that drew a few of us more good natured ones together. And so it was nice to see some familiar faces in my first few days back.

I chatted with one gal on my first night here (hanging my head out the window as she unpacked her car actually) and asked her how things were going (she'd been moved back in about a week.)

She told me that other than the noise/construction still ongoing, the biggest thing she noticed was what she was calling "phantom kitchen."

See, in the renovating they did, the kitchen is the thing that really changed. Sure, there's new paint and blinds and a new toilet and cabinet mirror, but the kitchen? Was completely gutted and redone. And it's very different (and awesome and nice.)

She said that she kept going for things that weren't there anymore or reaching to open cabinets that didn't exist.

I kind of laughed, and we chatted about something else, but you guys? Now that I've lived here a bit?

I totally know what she's talking about.

It's happened to me a couple of times now, usually at night or when I'm tired or not really paying attention, but I'll turn from the sink to reach for the pantry cupboard and be reminded that that's the fridge now.

Or I'll round the corner from the living room and head towards the cabinet where my cereal is kept and realize that that cabinet isn't there, hasn't been there since I moved back, and will never be there.

It's an odd feeling.

I guess moving always is a bit odd, weird, uncomfortable, disconcerting, but moving back in to your old place that's no longer your old place?

Is different.

Monday, 19 December 2011


Oh Weekends,

I love you.

No, I mean it Weekends, I really really love you.

You let me sleep in (if I want to, and you know I always do) (oh, and do you remember how back in the day I used to sleep in til the middle of the day? Good times, good times.) and then you don't make me go anywhere unless I want to.

And sometimes you have me hang out with friends but sometimes you just have me laugh on the phone with them a whole bunch. And sometimes you just have me sit and mellow out and not have to talk to anyone at all if I don't want to.

And then there's the videos you find me that make me giggle and laugh out loud (yes, without even having to type "LOL". And the chocolate and skittles that I munch on when I feel like it.

And, Weekends? Let's not forget all the crashing on the couch time. I love you for that too.

And the times where I spend all day in pajamas and then figure since it's nearly dinner time, I could head out for a walk and some fresh air but only because I want to, not at all because I have to? Yeah, those are good days, Weekends.

I love the time we spend together Weekends, and I wish we could always be like this. I love you Weekends, forever and ever and ever.

Yours with adoration and gratitude,

Saturday, 17 December 2011

Mini Rant (Tongue In Cheek...Kind Of)

Locked Out by foundimagination
I've decided to quit my job. To quit my job and go into tv.

Because apparently you get paid a bazillion dollars and then you don't have to film an entire season anymore, you can just go for part of a year and THEN?


So, yeah.

I'm going to go into tv now so that I can basically do half a job and then do even less than that and not care that maybe people still want to watch you.


Friday, 16 December 2011


You guys?

I just dropped my advent calendar chocolate on the floor and I can't find it.

Like, I heard it drop, but it's nowhere to be found. And, yes, I crawled around a little looking for it, of course I did.

So now I have to go to work and I don't know where my advent calendar chocolate went and I think maybe the elves took it or something.


Thursday, 15 December 2011


Cross.  Light. by foundimagination
One of the reasons I think I'm feeling so unsettled here, back in my apartment, is the constant flow of tradesmen and workers in and around the building.

Like, the door's always propped open out back, and there are trucks in the parking lot and so much noise.

Hammer this saw that, I don't even know what all they're doing, I just know it's disturbing and not like home.

There are people in and around the hallways and building and I know they're in a rush to finish the other apartments so they can rent them too, but it's really unsettling. It's always been such a quiet place and now there's people everywhere it seems.

I've been told it's not much longer, and I've been told that things will settle, but I feel like I don't know if that's just something the owners keep saying or if it'll actually happen.

Like, maybe before the 25th of this month say?

So it's just a lot more unsettled than I'd expected. Or maybe hoped. Because I figured things wouldn't be done yet, I just didn't know it would be quite this....un-quiet.

Wednesday, 14 December 2011

Wherein Tweezers Save My Life

So, these saved my life.

No, seriously. A pair of tweezers. Let me explain.

I got stuck in my bathroom and I only made it out because I had a pair of tweezers in there.


My first weekend staying here, I was trying to sort through some basic boxes and figured if I had the bedroom, bathroom and kitchen done first, I'd be good to go.

In unpacking my bathroom, I noticed there wasn't a hook behind the door anymore, so I went out and bought one of those "hang over the door" hanger hooks.

I put it up and wanted to make sure the door could still close in case a visitor came over and needed to use the toilet.

It's actually one of the things I was looking forward to being back in my own space; the ability to go pee without having to completely shut the door.

Or, for that matter, to shower with the door slightly open so the air can vent out and not fog up the bathroom.

I pretty much never shut my bathroom door living here, there's just no real point unless there's someone else in the house.

So when I pushed the door closed, with the hook hanger on top, I was pleased to see that the door did close, even though it'd been repainted and sometimes that causes things to stick.

So I opened up the door ag. . . well, I *went* to open up the door again but the door knob wouldn't turn.

Now, before you tell me the trick of undoing a bathroom door, I'd like to point out to you that this apartment was built sometime in the 1950s so the door knobs and handles are old. Cute, and quaint, sure, but old.

So I went to open the door back up and, well, it was fully closed, and I wasn't getting out of there.

Which was when I started to panic.

Like, I could feel that there was no oxygen in the room and that I was gong to suffocate and die.

I knew that I didn't have any neighbours above me or next to me or below me and that the only people in the building right now lived on the bottom floor on the opposite side and was that the contractors van I heard pulling out of the parking lot? Yes, yes it was. So there went the only hope I had of someone being able to hear me yelling for help.


I stood there, talking myself down. I told myself that I could feel cool air coming under the door so I wasn't running out of oxygen, I was fine for air and breathing. I told myself that come Monday morning, by 9 or 10, my work would see that I hadn't called in sick and they'd somehow find a way to get to me. So that meant I just had to stay in there for maybe 20 hours?

I told myself that there was water to drink from the tap, and I could go to the bathroom if I had to and that, yes, I was starting to feel really really warm, so I could take off my clothes if I had to, that was all just fine.

And before I got into a full blown panic mode (I would say I'm mildly claustrophobic, can be in a smallish space if I know I'm getting out of there soon or can exit easily if I want to, so this was really really freaking me out. Like, a lot. I've also had a fear of being locked in bathrooms since I was a kid and got locked in a bus bathroom at Disneyland.) I told myself to see if there wasn't some way I could get myself out of there.

I could see that there was a screw on the doorknob and some part of me remembered taking apart a modern type doorknob and figured I could at least attempt the same here.

Except, what would I turn the screw with?

There wasn't a knife in my bathroom... I needed something flat.

What was flat... what could I use.



So I fished out my purple Mr Tweezerman tweezers and I dug those puppies into the groove of the screw.

And it turned.

I turned it and yanked off the doorknob and.... it didn't get me anywhere.

I turned the inside turny thing but nothing moved and the door remained shut.

Then I figured maybe the knob wasn't tight enough on, or had slipped out of a hole or something, so after searching for a non existent hole, I slid the knob back on the (dowel?) thing and tightened on the screw with my tweezers and hoping for the best, turned the knob.

Which OPENED! Bringing in the best rush of fresh air I've ever felt, and the biggest sense of relief and pride I've known in a while.

I was pretty shaken up though.

Which was when I discovered that I don't have any booze in my place.

So I lay on the couch and had some chocolate instead.

Seriously, it was one of the scarier things I've had to deal with. Being stuck in that tiny room, living one of my long-term fears, and knowing that there was no way to get anyone to come rescue/help me. (Even if someone had been there to hear me, my front door had its chain on and they'd have had to break down the door.)

I knew that when I told people, they'd find it pretty funny, so once I felt better, I went over to my Mom and Dad's and told my Mom because I knew she wouldn't laugh and I'd be able to cry about it.

The next day at work, I made extra sure they had a contact number for my resident manager so that if I ever don't show up for work, I know they know who to call. So now at least they can call them and then can come knock on my door and help me, rather than me being discovered two weeks later, dead and decomposed in my bathroom.

Dudes, seriously. Don't close your bathroom door when you're home alone.

Not worth it.

Tuesday, 13 December 2011

Giggle Inducing

Elephant Nose Face! by foundimagination
One of the guys I was recently interested in on the dating site was a firefighter.

I know enough people who've dated/been married to/been friends with firefighters that they're on my "thanks, but no thanks list".

But I'm trying to be more open, and less.... judgmental with the dating site guys, so I messaged this guy back.

Meanwhile, I tried to convince myself that it was a good idea to try dating a firefighter, so I talked to my one girlfriend who dated a fireman long term to see her point of view.

She said that maybe, yes, there were more guys in that job who were unfaithful, but that didn't mean they all were. Maybe it just attracted men of a certain personality who were more likely to cheat, but that there were definitely good guys who were firefighters and that her ex had been one.

And then I called C-Dawg, because she's a huge fan of firefighters for their general hotness and hunkiness.

"Should I go on a date with a firefighter?"

"Heck yes."

"But why?"

"Dude. Think about it. He's strong. And brave. And you've already shown me his picture, so you know he's good looking. He's probably strong enough to pick you up and carry you to bed you know. And he'll keep fit, so he's, you know, probably got a good body too."

At which point I got all giggly imagining a very hunky guy lifting me up in his manly arms and carrying me to bed where I could admire his muscle-y chest and . . . yeah.

I think it's the first time I've really understood why some women get all giggly over firemen.

But, not to worry. Firefighter guy joined the ranks of online dating men who disappeared off the face of the internet, so I don't have to worry about any future infidelities or freak outs about whether or not he was going to die at his job that day.

It's all good.

Monday, 12 December 2011

Is Neither An Option?

I'm trying to figure out where the three extremely itchy bites I have on my back came from.

Logic tells me that it's too late in the year for mosquitoes (which would be my first choice) so that leaves... fleas or spiders.

I think I'd rather it was flea bites, but then I have to figure out where the fleas came from and I shudder to think that it might be in my bed.

But to me, that's a far better thought than maybe having spider bites.

So.... fleas it is?

Updated to add: I may have to delete this post... it's got me seriously creeped out!

Saturday, 10 December 2011

Just Bouncing Around

I know I've played all of these before, but they're all resonating with me right now, so here they are for easy play/repeatability.

Just close your eyes. The videos aren't what I listen to.

Tomi Swick - Sorry Again

James Blake - A Case of You

Mumford and Sons - Timshel

Friday, 9 December 2011

The More You Say "Spam" The Weirder It Sounds

I've been getting a bit more spam on the blog lately, and while Blogger's pretty good at catching spam, occasionally the spammer will make their spam look like a comment, and it'll get partially through the filter and sent to my inbox for checking.

Usually, I get a good chuckle out of the spam and totally thought you'd appreciate this one.

Because while it appears the spammer figured out that I was a dating type blog? They didn't figure out much more than that.

So without further ado, here's my vote for "Spam that made me literally LOL".

"Now you have an alternative with our dating website for single romantics have plenty of options to choose from because we have a growing list of senior dating and singles profiles. personal and seniors that are looking for someone to mingle with senior "

Apparently I'm much much older than I thought!


Thursday, 8 December 2011


Pretty by foundimagination
I'm not at all in the Christmas zone.

It's like, I keep looking around and wondering where all the tinsel and lights and Santa hats came from.

I guess the move has really distracted me and I don't feel like it's actually December, nevermind the whateverth of December.

And I'm not really sure I'll get in the zone/mood much this year.

Like I said the other day, Christmas isn't the easiest time for me anymore. I used to LOVE it when I was a kid, and even as I got older I still enjoyed the time off of University and time with my little family and presents and goodies and the possibility of snow.

Now it just makes me feel. . . not. And so maybe being distracted this year will help, I don't know.

I just know that I have no idea how it got to be this close to Christmas and how everyone snuck up so many decorations without me knowing.

Is it really that time already? Didn't we just turn back the clocks?

Wednesday, 7 December 2011

And Now For Something Completely Different

(I'm totally not making this up. Just so you know.)

Usually when I get a message from a guy on the online site, I glance at his photo thumbnail and then click on his profile before reading the message. That way, if I'm not interested in his profile, I'm not too bothered by what the message might say.

So the other day, when I got a message notification, I clicked on the profile and it turned out the fellow seemed like a pretty nice guy. He was around my age, cute enough and we had some similar interests. So I clicked on his message to see what he had to say.

And I had to read it twice to make sure my eyes weren't deceiving me.

"Hi, it seems like we have a lot in common! Do you have a pic of you in high heels?"

Really? Seriously? That's what you're going with?

I'm somewhere between amused and baffled. Bemused perhaps? Because know there are some kinky guys on these sites and I'm sure there are some guys just looking to hook up, but they're usually really clear about it in their profile. But this was just a nice, normal seeming guy. Who wanted to know if I had a picture of me in high heels.

To....see if I clean up nice? is the best possible reason I can see him having for asking.

I did get a good chuckle out of it before deleting the message.

Not a great opening line fellas. Just sayin'.

Tuesday, 6 December 2011

I Mean This In The Nicest Possible Way

Hey, Victoria?

Snap out of it - Moonstruck

At least on the blog.

I mean, I don't mean you (I?) have to immediately stop feeling bad about things or anything. Just that maybe you don't have to write about it here 24/7 for the next four thousand weeks. Right?

That's all I'm saying. OK?


Monday, 5 December 2011


I'm not happy in my home.

I'm struggling with interpersonal relationships.

My work is too much worry and not enough reward.

I don't like the number that's attached to my next birthday.

I know I have so many blessings in my life and I'm grateful for them, but this space I'm in right now is a heavy one.

Watching what's going on around me, I'm coming to the realization that even if I met a great guy, it wouldn't be the dream I'm hoping for. And even meeting a great guy and falling in love would only distract me from filling that something other in my life that's missing.

I know it took me a couple of weeks to feel settled at my parents' place, so maybe it'll take a couple of weeks to feel settled here. And maybe once I feel more at home, or even slightly at home, I'll feel better.

This move has unsettled me in a lot of ways. It's been four months since I was first told I had to move out. A long four months. Lots of adjustment for a worrier who doesn't like change.

And lots of moments where I ended up doing everything myself. Struggling, planning, doing. Myself. And I never imagined I'd be here. So very single. Surrounded by people who aren't single, and so don't remember that you have no one to turn to. No one to ask for help, support, hugs. No one to share the worry with.

No shoulder to cry on.

So I'm not in a good space. And it's the wrong time of year to be feeling like this. Christmas is always hard for me. Even Valentine's day isn't quite as powerfully about family and togetherness as this season.

Everyone curls in to their husband, their children, their grandchildren, their nucleus and celebrates all the intimacy. And all I can do is sit and watch from the outside. Always on the outside.

So I have to find that other. That whatever it is that's missing. Something I can pour myself into. Something I can curl into and live from.

I have to keep moving through this space. There must be an end to feeling like this.

Saturday, 3 December 2011


Tower by foundimagination
I'm going to sleep at my place tonight come hell or high water.

(Well, ok, that's an exaggeration. I totally wouldn't sleep there if it was hellish or flooded. know, I really want to and hope to.)

So that means today is a day of giant cleaning and unpacking and sorting and whatever else. (As in, doing stuff, not stuffing turkey stuffing.)

I'm tired, I am, but I'm also a little excited at the idea of being back in my own place and seeing how it is.

Because that's what I've decided. I'm going to sleep here tonight and then if it's awful (the dust, the tradesmen, the whatever) I'll stay another week at Mom and Dad's.

So I'm throwing on my sweats and heading over there right away, and I'll come back for lunch and a break and by then I'll know.

See you on the flip side.

(I know, I'm not making sense. Sorry, kind of stressed in the brain so not "in" the brain if you know what I mean. No? Me neither.)

Friday, 2 December 2011


I'm using the A.S.G.C a lot lately.

That's the Angry Sigh Glare Combo, for those of you who weren't sure.

I'm not sure why I think anyone will respond to this combo when I'm usually alone when I'm using it.

I'm frustrated with things and the ongoing BLEARGH of it all and so I may just go head and start fixing things myself if no one else is going to do it.

Because I'm tired of going to my place to see if things are ready/done/fixed/etc. and ending up sighing angrily and glaring around when I find they're not.

I'd like to be able to sleep at my apartment this weekend, but it's going to take some work to get there.

Send Advil, chocolate and Skittles.

And food.

I keep forgetting there's no food in my place.


Thursday, 1 December 2011


Happy Star Alien Face by foundimagination
Ok, I just need to pause for a second from feeling tired and sore and sad and sorry for myself (which, really, I'm not wallowing in, which is's more of a oh, hey, I'm going to stop in Miseryville for a moment and then keep on going) because I realized something last night and it made me smile and maybe even clap my hands with joy.

Starting today....


Being an adult sure has its advantages, and buying your own advent calendars (plural) is one of them.

So here's to a month of chocolate, amongst other things.

Nom, nom, nom.
Please don't steal stuff from here, it's not nice. But leave a comment, why don't cha? And drink more water. It's good for you.

P.S. If you think you know me? You probably don't. If you're sure you know me? Pretend you don't. I'll never admit I know what you're talking about anyway.

P.P.S. All this stuff is copyright from then til now (Like, 2006-2018 and then some.) Kay? Kay.