Category Archives: CONFESSIONS

Beautiful mess

or maybe just a mess period. Here’s the deal, I have a good life overall, and I’m very grateful for all the things in it (even if I complain sometimes). But I’ve been in a very melancholy mood as of late and all I feel like is being sad and posting lyrics from overtly emotional songs that I feel really capture how I “feel” right now. Songs about rain, and the inability to breathe, know what I mean? I’m like a tumblr photo of train tracks with a helvetica type quote on it that has this really deep meaning. I’m letting Florence + the Machine and Adele’s delicious melodramatics take over my entire psyche.

That’s about to be over though, not the listening to Florence/Adele, that’ll never end. The feelings however, all 70 000 of them need to be stowed away in a pretty little box somewhere in the far back. It’s time to pull up my invisible bootstraps and put the pieces of whatever is broken back together. Even if I maybe want to leave some of them strewn on the ground like Hansel and Gretel hoping to find their way back home. It’s time for Britney Spears and the dancing, definitely the dancing.

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Mistakes I didn’t think I was making

This is going to be a long one, you’ve been warned. It’s late and I’m wired.

When it comes to relationships, men, boys, et al. I make a lot of mistakes, and they tend to be quite extreme–not necessarily the mistakes, but the certainly the risks that lead to those mistakes. The irony of it all is I’m not a person who lives by extremes, in fact I tend to veer away from them in all other aspects of my life. That’s not to say I don’t take risks, I do, just calculated and well-thought out ones; I’m not the ‘fly by the seat of my pants’ type. When it comes to men, it seems I throw logic right out the window and the baby with the bathwater.

I believe there are lessons to be learned, and that every failure is an opportunity to grow but the past year of my life have been a whirlwind of unnecessary lessons learned and damage done. It’s like I’m trying to catch up (to what I have no idea), or tick items off a checklist I didn’t know I was keeping. So, just a few short weeks ago I decided in a moment of clarity that it was time for  a break. I needed to take time away from dating to sort out my mind. Time I could now refocus back onto me, my friends, my goals, and my career. (ME ME ME) But first, I’d have one last hoorah, go out with a bang!

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oh lady, it ez like reaching for ze chips but bag ez empty

I miss you. It hasn’t even been a day and I miss you so damn much. Maybe because I know it’s the first of many days, days that very quickly will become weeks, and then months.

In my life, in 25 years, you are the best one. Now you’re gone and everything just hurts, and I know that it’s not the end because I don’t believe for a second that this could be it, but that doesn’t change this feeling.

the worst – or maybe just the not so fun part

Dating – I suck at it.  Much more so when I actually like the person (no, don’t worry the ridiculousness of that statement isn’t lost on me).  This is a fact I’m well aware of, and just learning to live with.

The post-first date period of time where I have no idea where I stand, this is the worst. Even more so when you’re plagued with the thought that maybe the other person was just being nice and not in fact enjoying your company*.

I wish this was easier, but then it probably wouldn’t be as entertaining for my friends.

I know I can be a little much, maybe even a bit over the top (dramatic – ha!), but that’s part of the fun isn’t it? and it’s kind of what makes me me.

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Conversations I didn’t want to have during a bikini wax

Kelly Clarkson, Taylor Swift....

These conversations have actually happened.  I couldn’t make this shit up even if I wanted to.

  • Taylor Swift – I realize you don’t have the most entertaining job in the world, however I’m not particularly interested in discussing whether or not I feel Taylor Swift is deserving of the many accolades she receives.
  • Trying to guess whether or not I’ve had children – seriously?!? Because I’m not in a compromising enough situation…
  • Singing – I don’t care how much you like this song, you’re not in an industry where singing while you work is appropriate.
  • The previous client’s landscaping choice – umm, yeah, no.  Not interested.  Are you taking a poll?
  • Anything.  – Can we just get this done with? Really. A mutually agreed upon silence is what I’m looking for here.

A bad case of the first dates.

I’ve been on a slew of first dates in the past three months. This isn’t a reason for not posting, my reason for that is that my heart was broken by a douchey boy, and well, after being left broken and vulnerable I had no desire to share my personal experiences. Throwing caution to the wind again now. So, let me do a quick catchup of the past three months. I went to Montreal, had an epically good time, left my voice there and didn’t find it for several weeks thereafter. The rest has been a whirlwind mix of work, life, dates, and some toe-dippping into adulthood (I may have gone see some condos with the intent of purchasing – but that’s a story for another day).

So onto first date bonanza… Continue reading

101 reasons why you suck as a boyfriend

I started to write down a list called 101 reasons why you suck as a boyfriend, I thought it would be therapeutic and frankly, entertaining. I had every intention of posting it and got to just over 40 reasons before deciding that perhaps it wasn’t the best idea. Yes it would be amusing, but that aside, it would also be a constant reminder of all the things I let slip because I so badly wanted for that “relationship” to work (I also didn’t post it because I do want to believe that I’m not in fact that petty, but who knows, maybe I am – a woman scorned and what not).

I never once thought that I could love him, isn’t that bad? There’s something terribly wrong with that picture in my mind. I just needed so badly to feel someone love me, to have that attention just for a fraction of a moment, that I was willing to make concessions on all the other things I wanted from a significant other. Continue reading

lyrics, they’re fun

let’s play a game (since games seem to be the theme of the week), what could I be alluding to in the following three excerpts:

We could have had it all
Rolling in the deep
You had my heart inside of your hands
And you played it
To the beat
-Rolling in the deep, Adele

Que perfeito coração
Morreria no meu peito,
Meu amor na tua mão,
Nessa mão onde perfeito
Bateu o meu coração
-Gaivota, Amalia Rodrigues/Hoje

‘Cause you can grow flowers
From where dirt used to be (…)
I can be alone, yeah
I can watch a sunset on my own
-Merry Happy, Kate Nash

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what does your gut tell you?

Sometimes, maybe. I give people more credit than they deserve.
Sometimes, maybe. I let them get away with things i know I shouldn’t.
I want to believe that I’m not being taken for a fool, but you’re making it very hard.

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puppy love ♥

I think it’s safe to say I have an unhealthy obsessive relationship with my dog. He brings me a certain joy I can’t even begin to describe.  He has more personality in his 35 lb body than a fair chunk of people I know.  He’s always happy to see me. When I’m sad, he cuddles up next to me and makes it impossible for me to remain angry about anything. He loves me, unconditionally, like only a dog can. On top of all of this, he’s a quirky little guy, who makes me laugh at least once a day, often times more.

Recently (this past Sunday) I got a new bed, a much higher bed. My dog sleeps  in bed with me, but now he can no longer jump onto the bed, as it is far too high, so I’ve decided  to be strong and try to wean him off. Day 1 went fairly well, aside from some wimpers at bed time, there was very little resistance from him. (I was a little offended). However this morning I was awoken at 4am to him wimpering like he’d just lost a limb and looking up at me with the saddest eyes from the  pity blanket I placed for him at the foot of my bed.

Is it wrong that I find joy in his sadness? He needs me, and I, well I need to seek treatment.

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