I went to buy a basic black bikini from American Apparel the other day and the change room had four way mirrors and I noticed a small white line between my ass cheeks and my legs. But then I lifted up my ass cheeks and discovered that the little white line was not so little. It is not sexy or becoming of me either. So basically I start tanning to avoid tan lines for my wedding dress and end up with laughable tan lines that the American Apparel chick even commented that she used to laugh her ASS OFF at the women who HAD THOSE when she worked in MEXICO. We are going to MEXICO. It looks like I have two extra vaginas or something.
In this dire situation I had and have no one to blame but Adam. He doesn’t think it is his fault. I KNOW it is not his fault but whatever for all intents and purposes it is. He claims I mentioned when I first started tanning that I had a wee line and he figured I knew it was there. UMMMM NO. I guess maybe I should but I don’t spend hours in front of the mirror examining myself unless it is to pop zits or push out ingrown hairs. I just found one in my leg so long it was ready to curl around a ligament I know it. In these photos I have already, the day before, applied self tanner I have left over from whenever to try and darken it.
I’m going to tan now and try and darken up my ass lines. Something tells me I might burn my vag trying to fix this shit.

I’ve been thinking a lot about my ex boyfriend before Adam. We broke up, or he dumped me at 1075 West Georgia on the side walk by saying he was so OVER me he didn’t even want to have SEX with me anymore. This was April 2003 and Adam and I met in September 2003 or rather started dating in September we’d already been ‘seeing’ each other for weeks maybe even months.

I will call him ‘too clean’ because his nickname was the complete opposite and no matter what I call him some people are going to know who I’m talking about anyway.
While we were dating too clean said that he would never ever want to know me off medication. ??

I’d only had ONE genuinely kick ass boyfriend at this point in my life, someone I’m still friends with today and he did save my life and he knows it, he and Adam have met and I can guarantee you Adam is more thankful for my knowing him than ever being jealous because if it weren’t for this man there never could have been an Adam.

Back to too clean. You’d think I would have dumped HIM the second those words left his mouth but I dated him at one of my lowest and most pathetic points when he dumped me on Georgia Street I’d been on medication for years, since 2000 but I was just without my even knowing it about to enter a phase that was genuinely going to help me, a phase by the name of Dr. Buttle who I’d say is a lot more than a phase but whatever I’m too lazy to reword that. I’d pretty much given up on therapy but had a good family Dr. at the time so I was willing to try this guy out. I wouldn’t have to pay and it was no more of this group therapy or psychologist shit that I’d have rather shit all over than actually gotten real about.

When I met too clean I’d been through some heavy trauma earlier in the year and more was coming and I was already suffering from post traumatic stress disorder and anxiety so bad that when he’d chant CHEESE BURGERS CHEESE BURGERS CHEESE BURGERS in my face I wanted to smash his fucking face in with cheese burgers because I LOVE cheese burgers but it felt like there was a metal bar across my throat and I’d eat if I COULD. That is how I have always described my anxiety because I’m not anorexic and I’m not bulimic but if I have anxiety past a certain degree eating becomes a challenge not worth even attempting. I had never suffered anxiety a day in my life until I was sexually assaulted in my own home. It has now become what seems like a permanent fixture to my depression.

I’m the type of person who learns from people, I choose too. I believe that every single person I meet in life whether a good teacher or a bad teacher is a teacher and I can learn something no matter how small. The shit I took and put up with from too clean was so shocking to me that when I actually looked back on it with a clear mind I almost kicked the shit out of myself but at the same time I needed him to realize how fucked up I really was. It didn’t help that the medication I was on at the time, Remeron, was exacerbating ALL of my ‘depression issues’ but because I had a sex drive on it I stayed on it too long and let it drive me more crazy than I already was.

It hit me a couple days a go that I have been really different over the last few months. Not bad different but in some ways totally bad different most good different though and that holy shit this is it no official anti-depressants as of next week and how will I really do once they are fully out of my system. I did go off them before but was off them only two months when I was assaulted and pretty much went STRAIGHT back on.

Adam and I were talking about what too clean said to me and look I already KNOW how rad Adam is but I can bet the last few months haven’t been exactly easy on him I mean shit I have literally no control over my moods while I try and get to know myself again. Because I’m realizing that anti-depressants do nothing for me when it comes to being SAD, being NEEDY, NOT being able to get out of bed some days going to bed while it is still light out that kinda shit but it DID help with my temper and my paranoia. And my paranoia is so fucking bad right now I’m ready to jump back on but I’ve handled the changes in my temper sort of so I THINK I can handle the paranoia but some days it is so bad I take extra anxiety meds and go to bed. I know Adam and I are solid but I never really thought a lot about what too clean said further than it really hurt my feelings when he said it. It never dawned on me that Adam has never known me off my meds. It is funny the things people say to you that don’t matter at all in the bigger picture but bite you in the ass just when you think you are going to make it they pop up just to remind you you aren’t good enough, well fuck you ’cause having had that said to me only makes me want to make it more because Adam deserves the best me there is to be had ON or OFF meds. I still call them my tits I don’t know what the fuck is up with calling them MEDS shit.

I see my Psychiatrist in a few hours I bet I’ll talk about this shit today in an extremely positive way ‘cept the paranoia ‘cause I wanna kill shit right now. EVERYONE DOES NOT HATE ME, NO ONE IS TALKING BAD ABOUT ME THAT I GIVE A FUCK ABOUT. I will say it three times fast.

I’m back I was on a mission. A 27.5 hour mission… That means I WORKED! And got paid but not yet because checks don’t just make themselves which I think is fucking stupid and they should grow blank with Bill Gates’ signature on them, on trees.
Tuesday I worked for 12.5 hours and yesterday I worked 15. Talk about zero to a million I haven’t worked a day since February 2005 and I jump back in with THAT.
I’m really tired my whole body hurts and my headache. OH MY HEADACHE. But I can’t sleep anymore.
It is stupid hot outside but I’m freezing and dizzy.

I can not fucking believe I missed the crazy shit on ‘The View’ over Star Jones LEAVING/GETTING FIRED that sucks the whole TWO DAYS I work in like almost TWO YEARS and I miss all the action. Oh well money is more important than Star Jones because as far as I know she is really really loaded and I’m not but CRAP I was totally looking forward to scraps with her and Rosie. Even though I live in the West I am SUPER sneaky but not original and watch almost ALL my ‘shows’ on Eastern time.

I have two packages waiting for me at the post office. I can’t wait to pick them up. I love mail. Sort of.

[b]When someone asks you a fucking question[/b] about your shit on e-bay fucking answer it and answer it now or get the fuck off e-bay. If you offer BUY THIS NOW and I can’t buy it now then FUCK OFF. I WANT TO BUY IT NOW!
I haven’t spent my birthday money from my Mom and Dad yet and I buy my Lacoste shirts on e-bay cuz I now have two REAL ones that STILL do not equal what you’d pay in stores FOR ONLY ONE I have a stretch polo LIME green and a classic polo PINK I ONLY wear Lacoste for the GATOR I HATE YOU BRAND BULLSHIT CHARGE ME A MILLION DOLLARS for your OH SO SPECIAL cotton blend some poor fucker worked for 20 cents to sew together. I’m TRYING to get ONE more to basically equal three for ONE and the color is HARD TO GET I won’t even tell you what color it is.

I FINALLY bought Raymi’s book with my birthday money from my grandma but she dated the check for July so I can’t cash it but whatever I spent it.
SPEAKING of my birthday

GIGI Frankenstein’s gift arrived today and it is the hardcover book, “the funny thing is” by ELLEN DEGENERES. And she made me a card. THANK YOU.

I now love gigi more than Ellen. This could happen to you too.

Happy Birthday to ME! Today I turned into a Zombie. No one told me that happened when you turn 29 but the picture makes it pretty obvious.

On the day that I was born the angels got together and decided to make being crazy legal.

Today Donald Trump is 60. I have better hair.

Today is also International Webloggers Day an unofficial holiday celebrated worldwide on June 14, bringing webloggers from around the world together to celebrate a year’s worth of changing the way the Internet sees personal journalism. The offical site is here.

Today is also America’s Flag Day! I AM FROM CANADIA though!!! (aka Canada)

I also shared my birthday with my Grandmother before she passed.

Lots of cool stuff has happened over the years on June 14th but one of the cooler things I found on Wikipedia happened in 1937 - Pennsylvania becomes the first (and only) of the United States to celebrate Flag Day officially as a state holiday.

I’m related to the dude who founded Pennsylvania so that probably makes me more a vampire than a zombie. You decide.

This is my birthday post from last year.

[b]Reason number kagillion why I should not be allowed in any kitchen.[/b] This is the second pot I have ruined beyond what an S.O.S pad can handle in less than three months I wish I could give you the exact date that I ruined the other pot but I don’t remember I just know it was not that long ago because of how mad I got when I started to smell the burning.

And to THINK all I was trying to make was Kraft Dinner. Fuck.

i have to tell you something.
back in the days of champagne whooshes and caveat dreams and silk flower salads, i used to think i knew it all. i was empowered. i steered my own ship, i rolled my own oats, cut my own grass, tipped my own barber, washed my own dentures, and repaired my own refurbished overhead projector. i got fulfillment from within, the outside world kissing my ass on the way by.

but something happened, something that sent me down a new path.

i received an e-mail message from a woman who i did not know. she introduced herself, then proceeded to explain the misfortune what had happened upon her. her little dog had had a litter of puppies, and there were seven puppies. the puppies, in her country, are illegal and when the mail came it was bad. the goverment had found out about the puppies, and, every three days the goverment will come around and take one puppy away so that the fascist kingpin what owns the city officials can watch his shark eat a puppy.

well, obviously, i was both saddened and outraged. i felt so impotent, like what could i do?!

she explained at the bottom of the e-mail message that if i sent the e-mail message to ten other people from my mailbox that the goverment would get whiskey and forget about the puppy or get sad.

now dont try to copy this message and send it to 10 people, the puppies are all dead. but we can still make a difference. but not alone. if we had all had sent ten e-mails to people back then then the puppies probably would have been split up an lived happy mostly long lives bumping into walls in a ten by fif10 studio apartment with shared laundry and caramel apple doorknobs.

so heres the thing.
im not saying anything about puppies, but if you all, and i know who you are each and every one of you/{*inside joke}\, dont do as i am about to say, then other bad things will probably happen and we will have to live with the guilt of knowing that. and we didnt even care.

INSTRUCTIONS::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

1. ponder yon survivor shitty blog edition button. gaze.

2. click it, whiz through the interweb.

3. tell jeckles something about why mrs. corinnagusgreeper makes you pitch a metaphorical tent and also svp sideways and obtuse = more memorable = more fulled of love

4. this step is crucial. say something nice about jeckles even if you have to lie. you can say something nice about his handsomeness, or you can say soemthing nice about his charm. by being engratiating, we let the host know that all of greepdom is willing to compromise morals, ethics, and the social contract in exchange for victory, glory, immortality….

5. be proud….be shitty……be gone!

6. dont talk about fish n chips

When I was thirteen years old I was in love with Eric Lindros. I was all about him, couldn’t get enough of him. I couldn’t wait to see which team got him first when he entered the NHL as the first overall draft pick in 1991 [Quebec Nordiques’].

I don’t know- I lost interest in him fast. Injuries are one thing but being a pussy is another and he started to remind me of Pavel Bure who I fucking hate and it was over. When they played together on the Rangers watching games would almost induce vomiting. My love for Lindros died faster than I could even say TODD BERTUZZI. I mean really, Lindros was not my first hockey crush and I KNEW he would not be the last.

Although with that said, Lindros is the only hockey player I have ever bought hockey cards of. I remember the day I bought them. I don’t remember what they cost though. It was when I lived in Smithers. [best Northern B.C. town EVER] I’m sure it must have been an impulse buy based solely on not being able to find something to buy with my allowance money burning a hole in my pocket. Fucking allowance money did that to me constantly.

I know pretty much nothing about hockey cards, these just sat in their little plastic covers hiding in boxes, popping up to say hi every now and then if I was going through the storage locker.

I like to dream big. And I won’t lie even though my love for Lindros fizzled fast, my dreams of grandeur that the cards would be worth MILLLLLLLLLLLLLIONS one day never faded. Sometimes it is sad how our dreams are dashed in an instant. And sometimes it hurts your stomach AND your cheeks laughing so fucking hard you almost pass out from lack of oxygen when you find out both cards combined are worth about thirty cents.

Fuck you Lindros.

I don’t think I’ve mentioned this before but Adam is in a band. He is the singer. It is a for fun band, they have a space where they play. The drummer was locally famous as the original drummer for the band GOB. His name is Pat, but he was known as The Wolf Man. He still is known as The Wolf Man. We go to his place for Super Bowl parties every year I used to think he was scary, but he isn’t. This year he was sick and didn’t have a Super Bowl party. Jerk.

Back to the band, they say Adam is TOO GOOD and needs to BRANCH out. I AGREE. BUT he wouldn’t go out for Canadian Idol so I’m begging him to go out for ‘Rock Star The Series’ auditions are here on March 23rd.

This for fun band is having their first garage show on Saturday and scattered in amongst the line-up are some random songs like a friend of a friend doing some Joplin and now Adam and I doing a duet. You did read that right Adam and I. We are doing [i]Jackson[/i] by Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash. Yes, I know super original considering the recent success surrounding [i]Walk the Line[/i] but there are only so many duets worthy of us doing that we can actually do together.

You know what this means people. I have to learn the CORRECT lyrics. By Saturday. I’ve always wanted to be a singer or a dancer. Not a stripper though. I used to play the piano; I never danced on it though. Although I won’t lie I was offered a job to once hanging out in a strip bar here. My parents have always told me I can’t sing, not to be mean I don’t think, just as a matter of opinion but it does add to my nervousness. My only other singing experience as an adult was a disastrous Karaoke duet with Adam’s Best Man, Al to Aaron Neville and Linda Ronstadt’s “Don’t Know Much” which is so far out of my range I was praying for a sniper bullet to hit me.

I think I’ll wear something super slutty just in case I sound horrid.