time out, but keep the cameras rolling just in case i say something brilliant, in case i don't look this good forever.

how are you supposed to win this war when you're too afraid to fight?

I've definitely dropped the ball on blogging this last month and a half, I don't even have a good reason for my lack of writing. lt seems as though life has taken over my.. well.. life. I've been pretty busy working at my new job, working on new projects, working on enjoying my summer, not working on my fitness.. and watching infomercials that display delightful trinkets that seem like a good idea to purchase on my credit card at 2am as I drink my sleepy time tea, while wearing my hello kitty pj's. I'm now patiently waiting for my purchases to show up on my doorstep so that I can say that I'm the the proud owner of some sort of blendy thing that's going to make me fruit slushies and veggie dip at the exact same time, fluffy slippers with built in mini heaters, and a vibrating ab machine that you strap around your stomach and is going to help me put Justin Timberlakes body to shame. You think I'm kidding, don't you? I wish I was. If you've never spent a Friday night watching two and a half hours of infomercials, then you're probably laughing at me right now, but I'll be the one laughing when my ab building machine arrives in the mail and I'm working on my 8 pack with toasty warm feet, as I blend together a delicious strawberry mango smoothie.

Weddings are supposed to be such happy events, so I'm confused as to why I felt a tiny bit sad about going to one of my closet girlfriends weddings this weekend. I wasn't necessarily sad, but it felt kind of bitter sweet. Anyone who knows me well or anyone who's been reading my blog has probably noticed I don't deal well with change. It's not that I don't think change is a good thing in some cases, but good or bad, the unknown, uncertain, uncontrolled and unpredictable still makes my heart skip a beat and my palms sweat. When I found out that Robin got engaged a huge part of me was so happy for her, and another part of me was a little scared that I was going to lose the person who had been my partner in crime for so many years. In a way, I was kind of right. We're at such different stages in our lives, she's married and working on starting a family, and this means there's not a lot of extra room for our super surprise nights, road trips, rock shows or dinner and drink dates complete with 500 pictures of us making the exact same kissy face in all of them. Our friendship is definitely different now then it was before, but as I get older I'm starting to realize that different doesn't always need to be a bad thing.

It's funny, because if you told me 5 years ago when I first met Robin that I was going to be at her wedding, I would of without a doubt, laughed in your face.

I met Robin at my first day at Earls. She walked into the training session after what appeared to be a long night out. She talked a mile a minute, only allowing you to catch every couple of words that came out of her mouth, and went to the bathroom after sampling some of Earl's signature salmon.. and threw up. I was convinced she was still drunk and confused as to whether having to sit next to her was some sort of punishment for my failing to stop for a pedestrian on my drive over. We sampled food, memorized some dishes, and then went around the table where we were supposed to share something about ourselves with everyone. I mentioned how I just graduated from high school, wanted to be an entertainment host on MTV and had mad love for The Backstreet Boys. She said she was a nurse and was 35, with a lot of plastic surgery. (I later found out she was a nurse, but definitely not 35, and definitely hadn't had plastic surgery) At the end of our training session she somehow had managed to pick up on my weakness to anything food related and asked me to grab lunch with her. She was quirky, a bit strange, and a lot awkward, but she introduced me to the delicious wonder of the Santa Fe Chicken Salad, and in return I agreed to go out with her that night. When I think back on the night, it's a bit fuzzy, all I remember is ending up at 7-11 at 3am and buying super surprise bags filled with fake fangs and stale gummy bears. We wore the fangs while eating the gummy bears, of course. I guess the rest is history, all I know is after that night I knew that I needed her in my life. I could write paragraphs and novels and poems and haikus about all of the shit we've been through and gotten into over five years, but they say a picture is worth a thousand words, so I'm going to let the photo's do the talking.

On that note, I'd just like to mention how truly happy I am for her. Whether we're falling in and out of hot tubs and eating all the food for our weekend long roadtrip in one night instead of three, or I'm helping plan her baby shower, this girl means a whole lot to me.. and every single part of me wishes her tons of love and happiness, and beautiful healthy babies. And puppies. Lots and lots of rotweiler puppies.

I like to think I have a pretty good judge of character.. but when I look back on my first introductions to some of the closest people in my life, such as Robin, I sure have been proven wrong.

I met my best friend Heather when I moved across the street from her when I was 3 years old. One of my first memories of her is when I had to sit next to her on the bus. We were going on a school trip and I sat in the isle seat and as she glanced over at me, she started pinching me. She told me that if the bus was going to crash the person who was near the window would die first so I had to switch her spots and sit there. Being the quiet, shy, pushover that didn't want her arms covered in bruises, that that I used to be, I accepted my fate and shifted over to the window seat wondering why the heck nobody had invited seatbelts for busses yet. I went home and told my mom to never make me play with the blonde demon child again, who 19 years later would be the closet thing to a sister that I'll ever have.

Aaron walked up to me wearing jeans tighter then mine, a shirt showing off more cleavage then I had, a man-purse strapped across his chest, which I later found out he had spent 400 dollars on, and he looked like he had spent more time on his hair and makeup than I had. I figured he either didn't like girls, or was way too flamboyant for me to ever keep up with. The only reason why I agreed to hang out with him again was because one of the DJ's I worked with met him the same night that I did and had developed a man crush on him and encouraged me to give him a second chance, as well he had bought an extra Marilyn Manson ticket for me and I would of felt like a jerk for bailing on him. I would of never thought that I would of ended up falling for him.

I met Brittney on a plane. Within the first few hours of meeting her she had talked my ear off for the entire flight when all I wanted to do was sleep and had managed to lose her blackberry as soon as we stepped foot in the Phoenix airport. She burst into tears when she realized she had no way of getting ahold of the person picking her up without his number, and I had to literally sprint around the damn airport with this girl I hardly knew, retracing all our steps in hopes we could find her phone. I figured she would end up being a typical, overly dramatic girl that I would never be able to put up with. I never would of guessed that we would end up being inseparable from each other.

I could go on and on about quite a few people, but I think I've made my point. In life, sometimes you're right.. and sometimes you're wrong. Sometimes people deserve a second chance.. and well, sometimes they just don't. :)

So it finally happened. It was a long time coming and 10 months later, it happened. When me and Aaron broke up I had many unanswered questions, as everyone does after a relationship ends. He broke up with me over the phone and really, there's only so many answers you can get over a text or a phone call - when it's so easy to be emotionless and fake. It's hard to ask questions without the person you're speaking to standing vulnerably in front of you looking you in the eyes, as you reach for the nearest glass object, winding up to smash it in his face as he sputters out his half ass explanation. When I look back I think I had such a hard time with the break up because of how he did it. You spend most of your day talking to someone, spending your free time with them, focusing on making them smile and in return allowing them to make you smile. When he broke up with me so abruptly and out of the blue, it was almost like a sudden death. It was cold turkey to the max, and all I wanted was closure. All I wanted was to meet up over a civil cup of non fat sugar free caramel syrup filled coffee and get the answers I needed to move on so I could start rebuilding my life. I wasn't going to beg for him to stay and I wasn't going to try and change his mind - he made it very clear that what was done was what 'needed' to be done. You know, I wasn't even going to toss my scolding hot frothy drink in his face. I guess I just wanted to say goodbye. You need to say goodbye before you can truly move on and somehow the words written in a text or said over a phone conversation just doesn't have the same effect. I tried for months to get him to meet up with me, and each time I'd get every excuse in the book thrown my way. Eventually I realized I'd have to just accept the fact that I wasn't going to get the closure that I thought I needed.

We have many mutual friends and mutual places that we'd hang out and I'd often get texts from my friends saying they just saw him at the place I had been only minutes before - yet somehow I managed to avoid an awkward run in for almost a year. Two weeks ago I went to Warped Tour. He stood about 2 feet in front of me, starring at me, which is all I wanted him to be able to do those past few months. He looked absolutely terrified, like he didn't know whether to stand his ground or take off running. I didn't know what to do, so I just laughed, said hi.. and walked away. I won't lie, I was a bit shaken up seeing him, not because any feelings came rushing back, in fact, my heart didn't even skip a beat. I was more so just shocked that after so much time I ran into him in such an unexpected way. That next morning I packed up his stuff that was still loitering around my room into a box and went to a dumpster and tossed it all. I had already gotten over him on my own terms before seeing him at Warped Tour, and I can honestly say I didn't have a single feeling left for him, but seeing him for those 2 minutes was that last bit of closure that I had been yearning for all along. I slept like a baby that night, with a smile on my face, knowing that this chapter of my life has come to it's last page and a new one is beginning.. and knowing that some homeless mans night was going to be made as he hopped into the dumpster that night only to find a box filled with goodies.

While I was at Warped Tour I realized something. While everyone else was off partying and slamming back coke and rye's, I sat on a lawn chair and talked to a stranger for two hours. I can't tell you much about him. I can't tell you where he's from, what he does for fun, or his last name. I don't know if he has brothers and sisters, where he see's himself in 5 years, or why he wasn't taking part in the after show party with everyone else. I gave him advice on some relationship problems he was having, and in return he made me realize something that I promised I'd never let happen to myself. These past few months I've been so busy and stressed over trying to get things started, finished and figured out, that I've forgotten to remember, appreciate and take in the small things in life, the little things that in the past were always more important to me then the big picture. I've began to forgot to relax, breathe, stop to smell the roses and smile for absolutely no reason. So I decided this needed to change. I signed up for a dance class. I went for a run. I watched fireworks from my grandma's window. I made a mix c.d. I spent an entire day watching Desperate Housewives with my mom. I made a new friend. I spent my morning cuddling and playing with kittens at the SPCA. I wrote this blog. I held on longer to the people I care about when I hugged them. I went for lunch with an old friend. I spent a saturday night around a campfire. I made dinner from scratch. I made a wish on a rainbow. I made a wish on a star. I sang along to the c.d that I made at the top of my lungs, with all the wrong lyrics.

These, are the things that matter. I find that often I get so overwhelmed about too many things that are completely out of my control and will happen the way they're supposed to, that I fail to leave room in my head for the more important things that I do have control over. I'm making a promise to myself to make an effort to allow time to do more of these things… to listen a little closer when people are telling me a story, to remember the things that mean something to people I care about, and to stop leaving my house 15 minutes later then I should.

At the end of the day these are the things that should matter most, the little moments that make you smile, because while you're sweating and stressing over the unchangeable and unthinkable, lifes moving on, with or without you - and life doesn't stop for anybody.

I will leave you with this song. It's called Rabbits, by Matt Duke. I have no idea who he is, I just heard a clip of it while indulging in a 'So You Think You Can Dance" episode on tv. I think it's absolutely beautiful, so go give it a listen!

and now you wanna pretend you're a superstar.

sometimes you have to take a couple steps back in order to move forward.

I'm getting a massage right now. You're probably wondering how I'm getting a massage and blogging at the same time, aren't you? Okay, I lied, I'm not exactly blogging, at least not at my computer. I always find myself writing a 'rough draft' of my blogs in my head at the most inconvenient times and in the most inconvenient places. In line at the bank, during step class at the gym.. while trying to decide between red and yellow peppers at the supermarket... and right now - I find this is the only way I can remember all the important details from all the random shit that goes on in my life on a weekly basis. For example, right now I'm getting a massage from a gentleman named Javier. He speaks Spanish, Portugal, and about 9 words of English. He has 5 1/2 children. I'm going to assume he means he has a stepchild and not half of a kid - but who knows. He has his massage license in the United States but not in Canada. This didn't worry me until he mentioned the half child thing which makes me hope that it wasn't a full child before Javier gave it a massage - I'm determined to come back to Edmonton in one piece. I'm afraid to ask anything more after that answer so that's all you get. Every time he starts working on the right side of my shoulder I flinch because it hurts. A lot. I pulled a muscle last week while carrying home 30 pounds of groceries that are still sitting untouched in Maegen's fridge. It was an expensive and bad idea. Right now it feels like there's an army of tiny elves dancing on my back, kicking me and digging their pointy heels into my muscles. Fuck you, tiny dancers.. fuck you.

And now I'm on a plane. I'm actually typing this out now, I promise. I'm on my way home from Toronto. I guess you could say I went there looking for answers to some things but once I got there I found myself with a question that became much more important then the original questions I had. 9 days later I'm still no closer to a satisfying answer, so I'll ask it one last time.. Toronto, WHY, do you sell your milk in plastic bags? It's kinda weird and I don't like it.

I got stuck sitting next to an emergency exit on the plane. When the flight attendant sat me here she basically told me that the lives of the other passengers were in my hands and that if something were to happen where we needed to use the exit that I'd be responsible for opening it and leading everyone to safety. Saving 150 peoples lives are some big shoes to fill so I figured today's the day that I should probably pay attention to her as she goes through the safety procedures before we take off. I tried to pay attention, I really did.. but as per usual I got distracted by things arguably less important then saving people's lives. I got distracted by trying to figure out why my skin is melting off my body onto the leather seat that I'm sitting in, why the 76th season of Survivor is the only thing playing on the TV right now, why there is more then one person on the flight wearing socks with sandals and why the child across the isle dressed in a furry neon pink one piece suit with matching hat and mittens is screaming at the top of her lungs. I'll give the child the benefit of the doubt because if I looked like a bottle of peptol bismol threw up on me I'm sure I'd be screaming too, but come on West Jet.. Survivor? REALLY? The flight attendant's glaring at me. I think she knows that I didn't pay attention to anything that she just said. I'm pretty sure I also just saw her say a quick prayer that I won't need to open the emergency exit during this flight.. because I think we both realize that if that happens then we're all going to die.

The past nine days in Toronto were interesting. It felt like the longest and shortest vacation of my life and because of that I'm having a hard time trying to describe any of it.

I'm in between trying to figure out if what I love doing is possible to be made into a career. In a perfect world I would be able to walk into Much Music or MTV, hand them my demo and resume.. and land a hosting job on the spot. Or an editing job. Or a writing job. I don't even care which, I love them all equally. Unfortunately the world is no where near perfect and there's security cameras, metal fences and restraining orders that stop people from doing that. Whenever people tell me that they don't know what they want to do with their lives, I tell them to write down all of the things they are passionate about on a piece of paper, because doesn't everybody want a job that relates to what makes them happy? I can make my own list in a heart beat.

I love entertainment. I love interviewing people. I love editing. I love traveling. I love live music. I love being introduced to new music and new bands. I love videography. I love writing. I love blogging. I love random adventures. I love fashion. I love learning and doing new things. I know exactly what I love and I know what kinda of career I want to have, but right now I'm torn between what dreams of mine are possible to turn into reality, and what dreams of mine will simply remain a dream. I believe you should go after what you love no matter what. I've never given up on something that I've wanted in my entire life, so why would I start now? But how many years do you give yourself to chase after something that has no guarantee? I think it's different for everyone but I'm having a hard time figuring out what's right for me and a harder time thinking about the possibility of not being able what I enjoy doing for the rest of my life.

I went down to Toronto with questions, hopes, demo's, resumes, a few good luck charms, my own charm, and apparently a leaky container of shampoo as all of the above was soaked with minty fresh bubbles by time I opened up my suitcase.

I crammed as much work and play into the week and a half in T-dot as I could. I hung out with my rad producer and director friends to help cast actors for the new Jesse Labelle music video. If any of you had a crush on every boy band heart throb like I did when I was 16, you may recognize him from the band "I.D". All you need to know is that he's really good, people have actually been dubbing him the next John Mayer. And he has dimples. I'm such a sucker for dimples. I went to a taping of MTV Live where they made fun of Edmonton for 5 solid minutes thanks to us being in the audience. I stared creepily at the hosts the whole time in awe and envy over the fact that they get to do a job like that every day of their life. I got rad fake 3-D obnoxiously cute nails put on which resulted in me slicing my contact in half while trying to put it in my eye and almost losing my eyeball.

I was re-united with "Bulldog coffee" which I believe may be some peoples sole reason for moving to Toronto because it's that amazing. I was re-united with some of my favorite people -which may be other peoples sole reason for moving to Toronto because they're that amazing. My friend from Faber Drive hooked me up with guestlist to their show in Hamilton with Hedley. Did you know every street in Hamilton is a one way? Did you also know that they have a giant mountain in the middle of the city that's next to impossible to get down from once you get to the top of? Yeah, neither did we. After getting lost driving up and around the mountain for an hour we got to the venue and channeled our love for pop punk boys while they put on a killer show as always.

We hung out on Chat Roulette one night for 5 hours which was a mixture of of traumatizing.. and mind blowing. If you don't know what Chat Roulette is, get up from that rock you're living under and google it. And then try it. We hit up an "All you can eat meat" restaurant where hot Brazilian guys feed you 16 different types of seasoned and sauced meats off a stick.. which sounds a lot dirtier then it actually is. It was delicious. I went to a taping of the Steve and Chris show which consists of two adorabley witty gay guys that give you trendy fashion, decorating, and cooking tips and almost replaced my Adam Lambert crush - but not quite. I did a bunch of other random things while I was there but I'll spare you the details of what I ate for breakfast to what time I went to bed each night.

Leaving Toronto felt bitter sweet this time. Last time I left there it just felt bitter but I can honestly say it's good to be home right now. For some reason I thought it'd be a good idea to book a 7am flight home. This meant I should of been responsible and stay in Friday night.. pack and get some sleep before I had to wake up at 5am. Instead, I decided to stay out till 3am, come home and drink diet root beer till about 3:30, pack till 4.. and then hate my life when I rolled into the airport still wearing the same outfit from the night before.

My friends band came through town Saturday night and regardless of how jet lagged and exhausted I was, I was so stoked to finally get to see them play live. If you haven't heard of them, then you have now - Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. Amazing band, amazing guys - it's not often you find both. They moved into my place for the night and we had a Jonas Brothers sing along and a gourmet breakfast that I wish I could take credit for making. They're back on the road now, chasing their dreams, one kilometer at a time in their band van. Literally one kilometer at a time, the van moves pretty slowly.

I have such respect for people who do what they need to do to be able to keep doing what they're passionate about. Looking at them makes me realize that no matter what I choose to do in life, whether I keep truckin' along for a bit longer and trying to make it in this career, or whether I end up going back to school for some 9-5 job, I'll never just give up. Whether it's a full time job, or just a part time hobby, I'll always continue doing what I love. There's never a time frame - you don't just wake up one day and stop loving something. And maybe if I'm lucky, one day when I wake up from a deep sleep these won't just be dreams anymore.

I may not of found the answers I was looking for in Toronto but I had a great trip regardless. I'll find those answers eventually, and maybe, just maybe, someday I'll even figure out the questionable milk in plastic bags thing as well.

Now, check out the amazing private performance the boys did for me in my basement to earn their stay at my house!