August 27, 2014

Radical or Pro-Parental

When I was little, I  remember constantly telling my mother in screaming fits that I hated her and she would hold me down and hug me and tell me she loved me anyway. This is what comes to mind when things like #WomenAgainstFeminism or female MRAs permeate my well-maintained bubble of white light, as seems to be the case increasingly these days. This “wave” of anti-feminism is hitting the internet like a tsunami and it’s leaving a lot of feminists on the opposite shore empty and at low tide. Feeling defeated. Feeling like, what’s the fucking point if we, as women in general – feminists and anti’s alike – are just going to fight among ourselves rather than work together for common goals that benefit the whole?  I can’t really speak for anyone but myself and a few friends, but I honest to god had no idea that SO MANY women would be anti-feminist. Because that’s like being anti yourself and that’s just fucking crazy. But no, they’re out there and there’s a whole lotta vum. And rather than react, I’ve been listening – or trying to, as much as I listen to anything – because whether they like it or not, what’s important to them is important to me because as much as they kick and scream and say they hate me, I listen and send them love, as lame as that sounds, because more than anything I want to understand. Anti-feminists and female MRAs are interesting to me in the way a serial killer might be interesting to someone into true crime shit. (Yeah, I did just compared them to serial killers, but I didn’t mean they were actually *like* the serial killers in what they do or anything.) Female anti-feminists are interesting to me because I’m interested in why and how people have come to the conclusions they have or believe the things they do about a topic I’m interested in, when they are (often) the complete opposite of my own beliefs, ESPECIALLY when I feel those beliefs are against the person’s own best interest. It’s like when poor people vote Conservative, I see these political arguments and memes on social media and think, “you realize this guy’s gonna fuck you right?” but they do it anyway because reasons or whatnot. Or worse, when people tell me they actively DON’T vote. Just like, never tell me that. Please. It hurts my heart. Even just tell me you’re too lazy to vote, that’s a completely acceptable answer. Feel free to not vote, do whatever the fuck you want, but my friends know better than to tell me about it because it makes me insane(r).

I actually have a friend who, I’m not sure if she identifies as an actual MRA or if she’s just more on top of men’s issues than anyone else I know, but she’s flat out told me she’s not a feminist. She was the first  woman I’d ever met (or have a relationship with) who didn’t identify as a feminist on some level and when she said it, pretty early on our relationship, it sorta knocked my socks off because she’s, to me, this badass, Amazonian woman with a huge mohawk and piercings, in combat boots; who goes to shows by herself, gives no fucks and listens to Ani DiFranco, whom I recently heard described as being the most misandrous musician ever. (I don’t know any of her music, but Blake likes her so that’s probably accurate.) My friend is also a camgirl and I just kind of assumed all camgirls were feminists by nature of what we do and how we all support one another. This friend especially because I know she’s super pro-sex workers and until that moment, I assumed that was a feminist thing!  But that issue doesn’t “belong” to any one group other than sex workers themselves, so that was pretty dumb of me to think. I also completely understand my friend not wanting a label and that’s why I’m not giving her one now – as being an MRA or being anti-feminist – because she’s never claimed that label and she’s never said she’s actively anti-anything and she has said specifically that she doesn’t want to identify with any groups. That was 3 years ago though, and now there’s been this wave of anti-feminists speaking up, so it’s possible she’s changed and has claimed a label. And that’s okay. Mostly we don’t talk about that stuff, though, because we respect the fact that we each see things differently (although I maintain we have more in common than different). She puts up with my “feminist crap” though (my term, not hers) and that’s all I can ask for in a friend. Tolerance. We come from hugely different places, I think, while still believing a lot of the same things and liking the same things and that’s why we’re friends, but on this one thing, I probably drive her bonkers because I’m cool with the feminist label. I wear it proudly. Blake’s cool with the label. Madison’s cool with the label. Wes wears a pink “feminist” 1″ button on his backpack after we asked him if he thought he and Madison should have the same rights and he said, “duh”. We’re all a pretty feminist family and I post feminist crap all over my social media and while I would not call myself a “hardcore” feminist, it sounds like my friend has met some women who have identified as “hardcore” feminists, who I probably wouldn’t agree with completely either by the way they were described.


It’s awesome having friends with different points of view than you and we should love anti-feminists as hard as we know how, even if they don’t appreciate us, because they are proof of feminism’s success. Feminism has been so successful that a lotta women don’t even feel they need it anymore. Yay us! There’s still so much to be done, but don’t you see that as successful? As progress on some demented level? Because I do. At first it made me sad but after digging around and reading what these women have to say, this is what I think.

I dunno, those thoughts just popped into my head. Work meeting in 40 mins.

August 1, 2013

I Laugh Until My Head Comes Off

Listening to this. I found out recently that Dick Dale once said he wrote this song after someone challenged him to write a song using only one string or something like that. I hated Pulp Fiction (I know, I know…what oh what in the world could ever be wrong with me?) but this was a good song on the Tarantino Connection soundtrack type album I used to have and this was on it.

So what I’m thinking about right now is how good my kids’ lives have been up until this point. (Not that there’s anything happening right now, I just mean up to the present.) Their parents are super in love, I think we all do pretty well in the food department, we can afford the pets we have, the entertainment we have, the bills we need to pay in order to live, my medications that aren’t covered by insurance, gas, a car, a home; we worry about money from time to time and we’re constantly worried about money but honestly, I just think that’s the nature of money. Everyone worries about money. I think about the fact that at Madison’s age I was institutionalized for my 2nd suicide attempt and at Madison’s age my mom was my mom. Madison has her problem and issues that are totally valid, but the fact is that most of them my mom and I had on TOP of the other two things. Which I don’t think Madison understands. Madison is a really good kid with a lot of privilege/s. And obviously she understands that it’s in her best interest to maintain said privileges that she gets and that being a brat, or inattentive to her household duties (which I don’t think we’re that strict about except the kitchen because dirty kitchens are gross and we all partake in cleaning that daily), means privileges get taken away. Like cell phones. iPods. Facebook. Video games. The internet. Etc.

When I was her age and institutionalized, mostly the whole time I was there I was scared because this to me was “the most trouble you could possibly be in at this time”. And that feeling sucks. It scares me to this day to the point where I avoid certain specific scenarios to ensure I’m never in the most shit I could possibly be in. Being…examined is the 2nd worse feeling in the world. They made me do “art therapy” where this big red-headed guy named ART, I shit thee not, handed me a pad of paper and a pack of pencil crayons and asked me about my life. And then he’d say, “can you draw that for me please?” So I made shit up. I basically described the habits, or so-called habits of a 15 year old moody goth (even though I didn’t “look” anything or listen to goth music). I told them I liked to hang out in the graveyard by my house, which was just up the hill and they thought that was the strangest behaviour I had upon my release. “Be careful in the graveyard,” said the head psych lady whose name I forget but she had an accent as she hugged me goodbye. Well she said one other thing but I’m not going to say what that was publicly.

Listening to this.

So I also had this funny idea, because I’ve been thinking about family a lot in the last little while, and who my family is. (One of Madison’s friends has a really large family and we were talking about it & determined that we come from a medium-sized family.) So I have this cousin, named Scott, whom I completely adored my whole childhood. He was literally my favourite person. And then he became my most hated person. And now I’m just “forgive and release”. But anyway, the last I ever inquired about him, he was selling men’s cosmetics, which is apparently a whole thing. And I guess he was pretty good at it, which is no surprise because he was an amazing artist, and now he works for MAC cosmetics, which in the cosmetics world, as I understand it, is a pretty high up place to be. Apparently he has a daughter now but I have no idea how old. Anyway, when my grama dies, he’ll definitely be at the funeral and seeing him will be toooooootally awkward. Being there at all is going to be bad enough but dealing with him is going to make it a thousand times worse. Unless everything’s totally cool. Which is possible. I’m open to the possibility.

I also wonder where she’s going to be buried and what her tombstone is going to say and who her neighbours are going to be. I’ve been afraid to ask that though. Like, it’s totally none of my business. I’m just curious. I don’t know where my grampa is buried and I don’t know where Wes Baker is buried. I know the graveyard my great grama is in but I wouldn’t know how to get there or what it was called.

Anyway, this is just the kind of thing I think about as the day goes by…listening to this.

Actually now I’m listening to a remix of No Rain by Blind Melon done by Pumpkin. If you google it, his soundcloud or whatever that site is should come up. I like it, Blake doesn’t.

Here’s a pic of the bruising on the top of my foot. I have another awful red bruise sort of between my heel and ankle that I couldn’t take a picture of myself.

God my feet are weird.

I just read this xoJane article on 5 things to buy when your son sends a girl or woman an unwanted picture of his dick. Here’s the top comment:

I always told the moms. I tell my mom when my brother is being a misogynistic douche. The true true sadness of my experience is that 100% of the times, the moms are on the side of their precious baby boys Because THEY are misogynistic douches.

 – Natalia Alfonso

And then Sad But True by Metallica came on and hahahaha it was just a random moment that I thought was funny.

If I found out Wes was sending dick pics and thus transmitting child pornography to ANYONE, it wouldn’t be what 5 things I should buy myself, it’s the 1 thing I should take away from him. If I found out my brother did it, honestly, I wouldn’t care because it’s his dick and he can do what he wants with it. If he thought that was a responsible move obviously we need to spend more time together so he gets to understand women. That said, I send Blake boob pics sometimes so there is okay times and place for that and obviously that would be a topic for discussion. Plus, I get naked online ALL THE TIME, or at least I used to, so it’s less of a big deal for me. My body’s out there, for better or for worse. Plus he’s my husband. I don’t think he belongs to some txt pics phone ring with other married guys who show off their wives’ racks or something stupid like that. He honestly probably deletes them. It would not surprise me in the slightest.

I haven’t washed my hair in a week and it’s still looking as intended. I put on a hat if we’re leaving the house though. People can’t handle my crazy.

Madison is visiting a friend in town today so it’s just me and Wes. He’s playing Minecraft or Little Big Planet or watching YouTube videos because that’s just what he does.

Here’s a pic I took of myself before I fucked up my ankle:

And bleached out my hair…
My roots were becoming unbearable.

So that’s why I haven’t washed my hair in a week. I bleached the shit out of it and now I need my hair’s natural oils to coat and protect the hair again. It just also happens to look better when I don’t brush it. Albeit very very crazy.

I have a headache for the first time in a long time. I think it’s from looking at screens more than sleeping, just eyestrain or whatnot. A smart person with the ability to do so would go have a nap but I’ve never claimed to be a smart person.

Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps by Cake just came on. I like Cake a LOT and I’m bummed that I’ve never had the chance to see them live. I’m afraid they’re going to stop performing before I’m able to make that happen. From what I’ve read online, they really only play California anymore. Guess I’m going to have to go to them…

Last night Blake and I were driving around the beach and we actually saw this guy in a pickup truck drive right over a couple of medians to get to the McDonald’s drive-thru. I was like, “holy shit is he really doing that?!” So funny. Only at the beach. *shakes head*


Uhhhhh…. A HARMONICA solo on Baba O’Riley?? I forget what the original instrument is but it’s not a fucking harmonica and I believe it’s something that requires a bow. That was terrible. *scrubs this from her mind*

Here’s a good quality sounding version of the song with the weirdo instrument solo that is absolutely not a harmonica. A HARMONICA. I cannot even.

This is better. Reset.

Sometimes it really sucks being stuck alone with your own thoughts for too long and not being able to talk to anyone over the age of 18 about ANYTHING. Sometimes it really sucks that Madison reads my blog because there is a certain period of my life that I can’t write about without her becoming curious about the people in it and that would be a very bad thing because these people all ended up being scumbags. And I don’t mean scumbags lightly? I mean habitual losers who will fuck over anyone who’s not kin and even that’s questionable and who are always scheming and scamming or feuding with someone. These people are con artists, slimy manipulative alcoholics and grossly mentally ill and unmedicated most of the time and just plain scheezy in every possible way…and I honestly doubt they’ve changed.

But they weren’t always that way.

When I was Madison’s age, I was still just getting to know Phil, my biological father, while juggling my affection and devotion to my step-father Ken, while…let’s just call it “dealing with my family”. When I was 14 or 15 I spent a few weeks in the summer with Phil and Lisa and my cousin Brynne and that’s when they had the carpet store. By the end of it, I was getting so mad that they wouldn’t let me go home. No one would take the time to take me back  because it’s about 2 hours away from where I lived and they were sooooooooo busy. They took me to Dyer Memorial, which I hear is not being taken care of anymore which I think is a real shame, and Lisa attempted to teach me how to drive (we ended up in a ditch, having hit a phone booth on the WRONG side of the road; she was like, “no problem”, put “The Kicker” in 4-wd mode and got us out of the ditch haha). We went 4-wheeling one time which was pretty crazy and we stopped at a stream and fished for a while before heading back. We ate fiddleheads and leaks. But they were super health nuts who were super in shape etc and hard to be around ALL the time, so I wanted to go home I’ll say after 2 or 3 weeks and it was like, this big long drawn out production and inconvenience that I needed to go home.

But the thing was, when I wasn’t there, I was curious about him. I mean, that time I spent with him was the first time I’d ever spent any amount of time on “his turf” and as him being the “parent” EVER and it was weird. And he’s a GOOD person!

Anyway, blah blah blah.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*Dead Sound*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Ho-lee-shit. There’s a fucking sinkhole near our house and chaos is ensuing as it widens! How big will it get? Who knows?  I’ve e-mailed Blake about it, who would be on the wrong side of it right now. I sent him a message on AIM, if I don’t get a  reply soon I’ll call him because he said he’d be leaving work at 4:30pm. It’s 4:26pm as I type this. There are other ways to get home without taking the 400, I’m sure, and I’m also sure he knows them, but who knows how they’re re-routing people closer to home.  It’s not like he listens to the radio on his way home or anything so he may have no idea.

Madison is making me pancakes! Hooray for Madison!

*shudder* I just read an article on xoJane about whether or not you like long nails or short nails and I haaaaaaaaaate long nails. omfg do I hate them. I hate real ones, I hate fake ones, I even hate nail polish (on my own fingers, but toes are okay). I am terrified of ripping a nail off and I type for a living, it would drive me insane. The article was so specific that I was like, cringing so I’m not going to link it. Ew.


Snowden granted 1-year asylum in Russia, leaves airport” – *WHEW*

Oh hey, I just made a new page on my site for people wanting to advertise here. Check it out. :o)

I called Blake to tell him about the sinkhole so he can come home an alternate route. Where it is, he thought, was the 2nd closest exit to where he was so it was good I called him.

I love this song. It’s pretty much my entire attitude on life.

Here’s me right now:

Blake’s home, peace oot.

August 7, 2012

Nish Nish Nish

So my daughter’s a raging racist and I’m having a really hard time being her friend right now. (Yes I know you’re not supposed to be their friend, but I am both friend and parent to Madison and that’s just how it is.)

Here’s what happened:

On Sunday or Saturday, I was talking to my friend Kara on Twitter about the whole Gala Darling/xoJane controversy (long story short: Gala Darling is a really obnoxious popular blogger who was just hired on as’s beauty editor…a few years ago, she posted photos on her site of herself in a Native American/Canadian feathered headdress which, as most of you are aware, is cultural appropriation and a hugely massive mistake for a white person to make. When this was pointed out to her in comments, her response to the controversy was to turn comments on her site OFF and pretend it never happened). Kara is Cree so I was asking her questions about the headdress because I was wondering if you could wear one if you made one yourself and it was more “gay pride parade” than “traditional”. (The answer is still a big NO).

Anyway, I actually read a lot about First Nations issues and I spent most of Saturday (in between working) trying to keep up with all the comments on xoJane. All like, 900 of them. And then I’d start clicking links left in the comments and get deeper and deeper into it. SO, by Sunday morning, I was still talking to Kara about it and somehow we got on the topic of pow wow. I casually said, like, “hey I live half an hour from a huge reservation, we would totally go to pow wow if you wanted to,” to which Kara replied, “They’re having a pow wow this month!” and she sent me the link and now us, Kara, our friends Heatha and her boyfriend Tim are all going to pow wow on the 26th.

Madison woke up. I said “Hey Madison, guess what!” and she said “what?” and I said, “We’re going to pow wow!” and she started asking questions about where it was and how much it cost. I told her it was $10. She asked who was paying because she’s obsessed with both our finances and her own. I said we were. Then she said, “Why is it $10?” and I said, “Well it’s like any performance, you pay to watch and participate.”

And then she said, “Why do they want money anyway? Wouldn’t they rather have like, beaver skins or something?”

I lost my ever-loving shit right then and there and I haven’t really spoken to her since because I’m just so disappointed by her saying something like that. I sent her maybe 6 e-mails with links to sites about our First Nations peoples and cultural appropriation since I had them all open in tabs anyway and then, at Kara’s suggestion, I made her watch 8th Fire, which is a 4-part documentary series by the CBC about modern First Nations peoples and their issues and successes and it’s REALLY well done, I hope they expand the series, honestly.

Anyway, as of yesterday afternoon both Madison and Blake had watched the entire series but I have no idea if she actually learned anything or not because her tactic is, since I’m mad at her she’s going to be mad at me right back.  I’m going to have Blake talk to her today.

Initially, I was pretty upset by what she said because it was just such a vile thing to come out of MY kid’s mouth and it really just blew me away. How could this be her view of Natives? How is that even possible, especially when she went to Ottawa with her class in the spring and they saw a Native performance or something like that (I’m not totally sure what it was, to be honest). What are they teaching the kids in school about our Native population? Nothing, apparently. This doesn’t surprise me sadly, because their school is a total joke. The ONLY book Madison’s class read last year was the goddamned Hunger Games and IT WAS READ *TO* THEM BY THEIR TEACHER! They’re 14! And then, get this, they took a class trip to see the fucking movie because yeah, that’s way educational right? Also Blake asked Madison’s teacher mid-year to not let Madison use a calculator in math because she doesn’t know her times tables and her teacher was all, “yes, yes, I will” but that was a fucking lie because her teacher was lazy and didn’t seem to want to actually teach this year. I have so many more examples of the absolute fail of that school, but I won’t get into it now. It just really bothers me that they’re not learning about Natives in social studies or current events or whatever they have. The crisis in Attawapiskat should have been a topic of discussion, at LEAST. Or even a little history lesson or SOMETHING.

Anyway, she’s really pissing me off with this whole attitude she’s developed where “tee hee! Being ignorant is cute and funny! *wink*” Like, when she said what she said, I blasted her with like, 10 facts about Native people all at once and she was like, “oh okay cool, anyway…” and completely dismissed me and now she’s doing everything in her power to stay willfully ignorant. She doesn’t see why she has to “learn about this stuff” if “they’re going to teach us all this stuff at pow wow”. Um, that’s not what pow wow is and if you’d read my fucking links, you little shit, you’d know that and additionally, IT IS NOT A MARGINALIZED PERSON’S JOB TO TEACH YOU NOT TO BE IGNORANT. Kara, saddened by what Madison said, has volunteered to give her some Native 101 when we go to pow wow and I think that is incredibly gracious.

Yes, Madison is still a kid. Yes, she thought a reservation and a conservation area were the same thing. Yes, she thought Natives were naturalists and that they lived in the woods and built wig wams and shit and that’s what they’d need beaver pelts for. I get that she just has no clue and that it’s my job to teach her. That’s what I’m trying to do, but she is fighting Blake and I tooth and nail on this and I don’t understand why. Maybe she’s just embarrassed that she said something so stupid and wrong and her instinct is to lash out instead of educate herself? She’s SO defensive, saying “GOD, I KNOW now, can you please shut up about it?” after watching one episode of 8th Fire, like that was going to tell her the whole story.

Blake just informed me that Madison actually has one more episode of 8th Fire to watch, which makes me seethe because Madison got extra special fun time yesterday (Blake put up her badminton net and he and the kids and the neighbour kid played for hours) and then she followed it up by having pop (which we never have for the kids, it’s a treat) and reading a book all night instead of just watching the goddamned show. It’s only 45 minutes long!  Mark my words, she will watch it even if I have to keep her eyes open with toothpicks.

So that’s that.

In other news, I lost 15lbs last week. I Wii Fatted myself on Friday I think and it said I’d lost 15lbs and I’m now 122lbs total. On the day of my surgery they weighed me and I was 130lbs so hey, that’s an improvement! Most of the weight that came off was fluid from surgery but obviously there was more than that in there. I’m still full of fluid like in my abdominal area, it’s still really swollen and hard. When all is said and done, I’m not going to have a flat belly, they just couldn’t push all my guts back in where they were before, my guts had gotten used to being out and about, but that’s okay. It’s still a huge improvement. I wish my scar was a little more hardcore. I wish they just would have cut my bellybutton out because it looks fucking stupid and then there’s that whole third nipple thing that is NOT going away. I can’t really complain though, I guess, I mean, do I even have that right?

I do think it’s pretty cool that I now fit into my pink Camgirls documentary yoga pants which haven’t fit me since 2006.

Oh that’s the other thing: eating. I just don’t do it. EVERYTHING or even just the THOUGHT of everything, makes me feel really really sick. I’ve been living on roast beef sandwiches and egg and cheese sandwiches on everything bagels but even those have lost their appeal. I just have no idea what to eat that won’t make me feel sick because just thinking about food makes me nauseous, usually. Yesterday I ate half of a roast beef sandwich for lunch and then I had about 4 bites of Mr. Noodles (ramen) for dinner. The day before that I didn’t eat anything.

So that probably has something to do with the crazy weight loss too.

We’ve decided definitively not to make plans to buy the house next door to my mom for a bunch of reasons that are probably really obvious. For one, I don’t love the house and if I’m going to buy another house and live in it for the rest of my life, I want it to be something I love. Two, living next door to my mom would just have way too many challenges. For example, what do I do if my kids are over at her house and my grama shows up? I asked my mom this question in the hospital and she got shitty with me, saying she’ll have whoever she pleases in her house which had nothing to do with my question and she was obviously agitated by the conversation so I just dropped it. If we can’t even have that conversation without her getting hostile, this whole thing just isn’t going to work.

The other thing is that, my mom and I are getting along *now*, but what about in 5 years? 10? We have a long history of fights and it would suck to have to move again because of that. Blake suggested that we look for a house in the same town, but I’m not sure that’s a good idea either. What happens if we get in a fight and then we have to see them at the grocery store or the post office or wherever all the time?

The kids still want us to move there. Blake still does too. I just think it’s a bad idea. I will admit that Xmas morning with my mom and John and the kids could be pretty great though and would only be something we’d do if we did live next door to each other. :o/

But speaking of my mom, look at these little garden bugs John makes:

Cute, right?

He actually makes all kinds of garden creatures out of vintage and recycled parts. They’re pretty cool. I can’t remember the name of his business off the top of my head (something to do with a foundry or a forge or something?) or the URL to his website, but if I remember it, I’ll edit this post and add it because the creatures are pretty neat.

See all that milkweed in the picture? That’s all I grow now. The butterflies like it. *shrug* Our vegetable garden is an absolute write off. No one watered it so everything died in the heat we’ve been having. Same with my window boxes and hanging planters. Therefore I give up. I’m not gardening anymore. I just don’t care. Maybe by the time we have our forever home I’ll care again.

Sunday morning I had a terrible dream where Blake left me because I accidentally dropped his iPhone in the sink and I was so upset that I woke up crying. :o( I hate that, it just sets an awful tone for the day. Also Blake doesn’t even have (nor want) an iPhone.

I tried painting last night and it was pretty much a disaster that I’m going to have to fix today. *IF* it’s even fixable. Blake downloaded all of last season’s Gossip Girl for me so my plan is to watch that all day and paint. But first I’m going to have a nap because my morning meds are kicking in and right now I’m fighting to stay awake.

I hope you all have a wonderful, sunny day. :o)

PS! Everything in my Etsy shop is ridiculously reduced, so go take a look! There’s literally no room left in this house to hang any more paintings so I have to clear them out. Also the stuff I have in my head right now is a little different than paintings past so I kinda want an empty shop and a clean slate before I start adding new stuff.

Also, I’ve decided I’m not doing Touched By Fire this year. The submission deadline is September 2nd (I think) and I just can’t have anything ready and photographed by then. I mean, I could if I really wanted to, I suppose, but I don’t feel like working on the kind of stuff they’d want to see. I’ve said it before but that show is all about mental illness and they want the work to reflect the turmoil of that and man, I just don’t paint that. I got better. And they don’t want “better”, they want “tortured” and that’s just not me. I have an idea for a painting that would probably fit the show and be accepted but I don’t feel like working on it so I’m just not even going to try to make the deadline.

And that’s that.

Edit: This is from my mom, apparently I was wrong. (To be fair, these bugs just appeared at my house from my mom’s house so I assumed John made them): “um…John didn’t make those cute bugs…..fireflys actually….to give credit where it’s due and deserved….

June 21, 2012

A Word From My Friend John.

February 5, 2012

Do This Don’t

I totally forgot to write about it at the time, but my new favourite website, besides Pinterest, is xoJane because I am and will forever be, in love with Jane Pratt and everything she does. I haven’t been an entirely faithful reader, I only go there every now and then and read like, everything they’ve put up since I was there last, but I just love the vibe of the site and most of the writers and I’ve tried a lot of their beauty advice over the past little while (makeup stuff).

Imagine how THRILLED I was to wake up Friday afternoon to “tune in” and see that not only have they proclaimed that overalls are BACK, but they had TWO WHOLE ARTICLES on them! Exhibit A/Exhibit B

Overalls are probably my favourite type of clothing. I would much rather rock a baggy pair of men’s overalls than a skirt ANY day of the week and dammit, I would look smokin’ hot doing it too. My mom and I are kind of obsessed with them, to be perfectly honest, although she says my love affair with them did not begin as young as I assumed it had. She tells me that she bought me an insanely cute pair of pink Osh Kosh overalls when I was 3 and I wouldn’t wear them “because they weren’t a dress”. Oh how times have changed.

Anyway, practically as soon as I read those two articles, I was digging through my drawers, trying to find my overalls and I found them yesterday and immediately put them on. Because of my herniated belly, they were pretty snug, but they still fit well enough to not only wear, but wear in PUBLIC, which I totally did and as I said, I looked smokin’ hot doin’ it.

So here are some pics. I even did my makeup. Yay me. :o)

(Weird angle, I know, but I was trying to get my eyeshadow angled right so it would show up.)