Tell me lies, tell me sweet, little lies.

We are creatures of lies. 

For whatever reason, more times than not, admitting the truth is far harder than concocting a lie and taking all necessary steps to keep it up. I’ve known my fair share of liars. I’ve lied a great deal, myself. To be honest, at any given time, resume/LinkedIn profile is approximately 38% lies. I can tell you the last time I told a decently significant lie, felt guilty about it, and confessed almost right away, but I can’t recall the amount of times (if any) I lie on a daily basis about things that are completely unimportant.

“Yeah, I just bought a box of Emergen-C packets to help me get over this cold.” [No, I am going to buy a box of Emergen-C packets but I haven’t yet] 

“I really like that sweater.” [That is the ugliest effing sweater I have ever seen]

Liking a photo on Facebook or Instagram of something you could care less about but know you’re ‘supposed’ to like because of the people who will be offended if you don’t… yeah, to me, that’s considered lying too.

And I do it alllllllllllllllll the time.

Don’t tell me you didn’t like that photo of my lips + cleavage + necklace out of obligation, because I know you did. 

It’s the people who lie maliciously that I really have the problem with. It’s the people who can’t even distinguish to themselves the difference between the truth and something they’ve completely fabricated that really piss me off. It’s the people who say the most absurd things to people to save their own ass or to bring others down that I really just don’t understand.

Like the girl who told my boss, when I was a Summer Camp Counselor, that I was behaving inappropriately with some of the children at camp. Or the girl who sat at a table next to me and told my friends a completely made-up story about how I did all these heroic and friend-worthy things for her when she was in between apartments and didn’t get along with her roommates. Sure, it was a nice lie and it made me look like kind of a kick-ass friend but it wasn’t true. And she knew I knew that.

And I said nothing. Until now. So I suppose in that instance, I lied about that too.

Just like I lie to myself every Sunday night when I say I will stop eating McDonalds to try to get in shape for California.

I guess it’s easier to lie when the truth is only mediocre at best. But the truth is, I shouldn’t be complaining about the things I can’t change and instead focusing on the things I’d never want to in a million years. My life right now, for example.

I was excited to start 2012. I know it’s sometimes hard for people to just be happy for others who seemingly have it together [and trust me, I’m a far, far cry from having it together] so I won’t dwell too much on the good, but less than a full month in, 2012 has far exceeded my expectations for the year, and I haven’t even gone to California yet.

I got to celebrate my birthday with my mom, my babe of a boyfriend, and a medium-sized group of truly fantastic girls. There was absolutely no drama. No one took my birthday excitement [or lack thereof] away from me. I didn’t have to pretend not to want to punch people in the face this year. And on Monday morning, after consuming an entire bottle of birthday wine post-dinner celebration, I have never wanted to take off my boot and throw up in it so much in my life.

In the best possible way.

My second January weekend was spent with one of my best friends from both university and life, celebrating her 25th birthday, catching up on the last year of our lives, and remembering what it was like to have girl friends who didn’t write blog posts behind each other’s backs.

Last weekend was my 12^th consecutive year as a volunteer face painter and Swan dresser-upper for Stratford Winterfest – a 3 day, outdoor family festival in the S. Dot.  I normally dislike going back to Stratford due to having approximately 0 friends remaining there, but every 3^rd weekend in January makes an exception to that rule. It was a hectic and extremely stressful weekend but it was, as expected, very rewarding and fun. Even the whole being around children thing.

Oddly, Winterfest is an exception to my “I hate children” rule as well. As it happens, the parents of these kids are generally far worse than the kids themselves. Your child does not want their face painted if they are screaming bloody murder on the chair in front of me or if you need to hold all 4 of their appendages down so they “sit still for mommy.”

Some people shouldn’t have children. 

I’ve spent the last week in and out of being sick, going tanning, trying desperately to think of any little thing I could possibly forget to pack, illegally downloading music, and counting down the days - now hours - until my flight to California, WHICH, BY THE WAY, IS IN 33 HOURS!

I’ve packed colours, I’ve upgraded my iPhone to include a US data package [helloooooo Instagram & Twitter], and I’ve probably annoyed the hell out of everyone I know talking about how incredibly excited I am to be going to a place that will be 24 degrees and sunny when I get there. To be honest, it still hasn’t set in that I’ll be traveling alone but I can’t help but be a little proud that I finally did something spontaneous and un-me.

And it’s never felt better, not a word of a lie.

I’ve never done a “What I’m Wearing” post before.. probably because before Instagram, I didn’t realize it was so hip to be vain. But since it is, I have absolutely no problem hopping on that bandwagon. Especially since I’d consider my sense of style to be “hopping on the whatever everyone else is wearing” bandwagon. 

I absolutely do not claim to be a fashionable person. I say with a fair amount of certainty that when people think of me, their first instinct isn’t to acquaint me with style. If anything, I’m living proof that you can dress decently and borderline-fashionably on a budget. Because I can’t think of a single article of clothing I own that costs more than $80 [I’d argue most are under $25] and most of them are staple items you can mix and match with other things to create entirely new outfits. 

Yes, I can put an outfit together and yes, I occasionally wow myself when I’m able to pull off something new and out of my comfort-zone but I would say that on the spectrum of fashionable, I tend to err on the side of caution. I wear a ton of neutrals [blacks and whites mostly] and I absolutely have to be comfortable. I’m a huge fan of over-eating so I rarely wear anything that showcases my figure, except for my legs and occasionally, when I have it [read: when I’ve got a double push-up bra on], my cleave. 

Probably my most favourite and most frequently worn items in my closet are tops/dresses/sweaters that look like they belong to pregnant women. And I’m completely comfortable with that. I find ways around that. Just because you wear over-sized articles of clothing does not mean you have to look over-sized too.

shirt: Wilfred
tights: TNA
booties: Sirens
cardigan: Urban Outfitters
necklace: Tiffany & Co.
bracelet: Iron Plume
watches: Esquire + Canadian Watch Importers (ie. Chinatown)

For me, that’s where a lot of wrist-bling and big, statement necklaces come in. It’s easier for me to dress-up a non-dressy outfit than to feel comfortable in something extravagant and cutting edge. Partially because I think people are judging me when I try to dress differently and partially because I’m judging myself for doing it, just the same.

I was that girl that walked into Michael Kors, tried on the $500 watch and said “fuck it, I’m going to Chinatown to find an old-man watch that looks exactly the same” and you know what? I did.

For $30.

watches: Canadian Watch Importers (large) + Esquire (small)
bracelet: (bangles) Ardene 

Lately, I’ve been really into lipstick and matching nail polish, despite my dear boyfriend’s hatred for both. I don’t even know if that’s what you’re “supposed” to do - match your lips to your nails - but I love how much more girly [and to be honest, pretty] I feel when I’m wearing one or the other, or both. I know, it sounds ridiculous but when people mistake you (via email, etc) as a boy that many times, it’s always nice to prove them wrong in person. And lipstick does that. Amongst other things like boobs, hair extensions, and you know, general being-a-girl-ness. 

lips: M.A.C. Sheen Supreme (shade: Insanely It)
necklace: Forever21
top: (actually a onesie) Urban Outfitters 

Because my name [and my enjoyment of watching hockey, going fishing, and assembling IKEA furniture] is unisex/borderline masculine, I like to indulge in my fair share of extremely girly outfits. I loooooooove sequins, tutus and anything pink, frilly or lace but often find it difficult to wear any of these things outside the confines of a camera lens or my birthday party.

Until I found these… These are the girly items I can incorporate into my everyday attire that don’t have people calling me a Carrie Bradshaw rip-off behind my back.

skirt: H&M
belt: H&M
top: H&M
necklace: Tiffany & Co. 

top: H&M
skirt: (actually a onesie) Urban Outfitters
belt: H&M
necklace: Aldo Accessories
watch: Canadian Watch Importers  

Not surprisingly, I’m a huge fan of black. It’s slimming, it goes with absolutely everything [including my kitten] and it’s a nice accent to my blonde hair. As hard as I try, about once a week I usually end up wearing an entirely black outfit and that is something I’ve just come to accept. The blonde hair usually acts as to offset any “goth” remarks that may come out of this happening, but even still, whenever possible [meaning, whenever stuff isn’t dirty], I’ll throw a little pattern into the mix. 

top: H&M
skirt: (actually a onesie) Urban Outfitters
blazer: Dynamite
necklace: Tiffany & Co.

top: Aritzia
jeans: (jeggings) Sirens 
scarf: Ardene
necklace: Tiffany & Co.
jacket: H&M
shoes: Ardene

As you can probably tell, I really don’t have a lot of variety to my wardrobe. I wear the same things a lot because I’m comfortable in them and because I’m a creature of habit. Every morning I’ll try on 8 different outfits and have half of my closet on the floor in hopes of trying something new before I settle on a similar variation of an outfit I wore last week. And I’m completely fine with that. I’ll do this for a while until one day I’ll decide that I’m sick of everything I own and will go out and buy [or in this case, receive as a birthday present] something that is so not me that I fall head-over-heels in love with it. Case in point… 

dress: Vero Moda from ASOS.com
bracelet: Iron Plume

To be honest, I’m not that interested in fashion at all. Occasionally I’ll get on a kick where I absolutely haveeee to have a Michael Kors watch or a Marc Jacobs bag or a Stella McCartney sequined blazer [none of which I own, by the way] but for the most part, I’m comfortable desiring things that are well within my price range. I don’t need to shop extravagantly to feel good about myself and I certainly don’t need to prove to anyone that I know what good style is.

Lately, I’ve taken to thrift shopping - not that I’m very good at it yet - and trying to build outfits out of old items in the back of my closet. So far, moderately successful and really, really fun!

scarf: Aldo Accessories
coat: Goodwill [I didn’t buy it but totally should have]

Of course it feels great to have pretty things that other people are envious of but there are far more important things in life than owning extravagant things. But if you absolutely have to shop sometimes [which, let’s face it, we all do sometimes] all you need are a few solid items [they don’t have to be expensive] to act as the backbone to your wardrobe and you’ll survive juuuuust fine.

Happy shopping, babies!
XXOO

I do what I want.

Can you believe I FINALLY booked my trip to California? Because I effing can’t!

I feel like I’ve done a lot of growing up in recent weeks/months and in honour of my 26th birthday [4 days and counting, friends], I decided the best birthday present I could ever give myself was to force myself to get a little uncomfortable and fly across the continent to see my HSB (high school bestie).

I’ve lead a pretty “safe” life; I mean, obviously besides being hit by moving vehicles, stalked by a guy in high school, had someone offer to murder me, you know… those don’t really count because those weren’t technically my decisions. I mean, yes, I chose to cross the street one day when the cross walk displayed the “walk” symbol but I didn’t choose to end up getting hit, falling back to the curb and having the police accuse me of not seeing the driver’s skin colour correctly. 

Totally lost sight of the point there for a sec.

I’ve spoken my mind when I knew I shouldn’t, I’ve lied, made stupid decisions and played it fast and loose with a mickey of vodka and a bottle of Extra Strength Tylenol when I wasn’t getting enough attention from my parents. But most of the choices I’ve made are what I would consider safe. 

No arrests, no broken bones, no tattoos on the front of my neck. I’m a bologna-and-ketchup-sandwiches-and-boxed fish-sticks baby. I don’t do dare devil. I just don’t know how to.

I’m not saying I haven’t lived. I’ve lived. I’ve really made the most of never having left this continent. 

Plus, I’ve also got the whole love thing under my belt. So I really shouldn’t complain about being a Ms. Safety Pants. I could be worse things. Like completely psychotic. Or brunette.

I just get down on myself sometimes when I see people with their shit completely together. I’ve said it before [even though I totally stole it from this article], it really is easier to deal with when things are going to shit. It’s easier to feel good about your own life - about my life - when I see other people jumping from job to job, having relationship problems or just being generally miserable. 

I didn’t say I was proud of myself.

I just fear that my shit may be as together as it’s ever going to be and frankly, that’s a bit concerning.

I remember to give the kittens their medicine, I mostly remember what groceries I went to the store for. I don’t forget people’s birthdays or important events. I pay my rent on time and have never lost or dropped my cell phone in the toilet or a glass of wine. I’m responsible. I’m a good friend. It just literally scares the hell out of me that every day is some new kind of unpredictable. I hate circumstances I can’t control. 

I apologize for being the most boring human being alive. I feel like I should go bungee jumping or delete my Facebook account or something. Get a little spicy. 

Although I occasionally go through phases where I remove a whack of friends from Facebook. So does that make me halfway to spicy?

For years now, I’ve had this rule where if, on someone’s birthday I don’t feel the urge to make the biggest deal about their birthday [read: “OMG HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABES! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’RE ___ YEARS OLD! GRANDMAAA! HAHA LOVE YOU”], I’ll just delete them altogether. 

I mean, come on, Facebook is not real life. I’m days away from my 26th birthday; sometimes it’s time to grow up. Sometimes people just grow apart from each other, sometimes you don’t want to give someone who said dick-all to you in high school the option to creep photos of your new kittens and sometimes, you’d rather pretend some of the people you mistakenly let into your life just don’t exist anymore. 

Annnnd other times you just can’t bear to see that yet another one of your ex-boyfriends found “the one” and got engaged to the girl he dated immediately after you broke up. Or in most of my cases, the girl he was sleeping with while he was still dating me.

It has nothing to do with the fact that I feel anything for these people. Trust me, I don’t. They call it a break-up for a reason and I’m more than happy to be rid of all of my ex-whatever-they-weres.. it’s just that feeling like a practice girlfriend for the rest of their lives is riiiiight up there with the worst feelings in the world.

It’s up there with feeling like no matter how hard you try, you’re just never going to figure “it” out. Whatever the hell IT is. 

California, 23 days and you’re my bitch. I’m starting to get excited. 

XXOO
 

Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.

Dear 2011,

Would you look at that; I survived you. 

It’s funny how many people seem so happy you’re gone; how many people seem so eager to get on with 2012; how many people say you were the worst, as if they hadn’t said the exact same thing about 2010, 2009, 2008…

But negativity is the nature of people, it seems. It’s far easier to find something to be upset about than it is to be completely content and it’s funny how when it comes down to the end of the year, it’s easier to remember the bad than to embrace the good. I feel like the New Year brings out the “new start” mentality in people who already have it pretty good to begin with.

But I guess that just helps reiterate my point. Instead of being grateful for the people and experiences the last year has accumulated, the countdown brings on a series of resolutions and relief that the year has come to an end so a new beginning can start.

Those people make me sad. People in general make me sad because no matter how hard other people have it, we can always find a way to feel sorry for ourselves more deeply.

2011, you and I had a great year together. Sure, it wasn’t all sparkles and cupcakes but if there’s one thing I’ve learned is that the bad only makes you appreciate the good all that much more. Sure I may have been threatened with a fake lawsuit, had to confront the reality that you really don’t get to choose your family, had numerous, stupid fights with people I love, got hit by a Purolator truck and re-learned the hard way that sometimes you just don’t get what you want, but I left 2011 with incredibly fond memories and an eagerness to see if 2012 can top all of the things that made my 2011 amazing.

I turned 25, went on my first plane ride, learned how to play Roulette, met amazing people, walked the streets of New York City, did volunteer work, got an incredible job, settled into my own, grown-up apartment, adopted 2 unbelievable kittens, booked my very first trip to California, and best of all, I feel 100% okay with the person I’ve become over the last year. 

Absolutely no regrets.

It’s been real, 2011, but now it’s 2012 and I against the world.

… and if we do, we’ve always got 2013 to get it right.

LOVE YOU.
xxoo