Change or Die.

I wanted to forgive you,

...

now I'm ready to forget you.

I've recently sworn off boys and caffeine. People keep asking me why. I've decided they're both bad for my heart, my health and my sanity.

I was working a couple weeks ago when one of my fellow co-workers filled my head with useless yet interesting facts. Studies show that people who lack a sense of smell have a hard time holding onto relationships, showing affection and falling in love. Apparently the smells of everyday life, things, and people is directly linked to how much affection you're able to show. Well, I'm sick as hell. My nose is stuffed up and plugged and I can't taste or smell anything. In fact, I'm pretty sure I ate a week old sandwich that I randomly found in my bedroom the other day without flinching, so excuse me if I love you less this week and forget to give out hugs and cheek kisses for the next few days.

Around this time two years ago I was sitting in my car in a Second Cup parking lot. I had just hung up my phone and was bawling my eyes out. I applied for a job at a television studio in Calgary and I had just gotten a call from them saying they wanted to meet up for an interview. My life flashed before my eyes thinking about the possibility of actually getting this job. As much as I wanted it, it would mean a new city, a new career, new life, new friends, new, new, new, scared, scared, scared. I really did want this job. I tried so hard to get it. I put so much effort into trying to convince them that I was perfect for the position. I used the whitest, most crisp paper to print my resume on. I bought shiny gold dvd's to burn my demo onto. I wrote the address in cursive on the envelope with my brand new fine tipped marker and said a quick prayer before I sent it off. My hard work paid off. Whether it was the smell of the freshly unwrapped paper, the curves and lines in my cursive writing, or whether they just believed I would be perfect for the position by just being me, I had them convinced. Yet once I had them convinced, I panicked. There was no doubt in my mind that I would get the job as soon as I sent my resume off. I truly believe that I am great at what I do. I guess I just didn't realize what I'd be leaving behind if I took the job. I never even took them up on the interview. I wonder where I'd be right now if I had.

If I could go back it time I would smack my 19 year old self across the head and tell her to stop being such a pussy. I'd wipe away my tears, grab a vanilla bean latte, and call them back and tell them I'd have my shit packed to move there by the end of the week and I could start the following Monday.

Today, I'm at the exact point in my life that I was this time last year. Single, relatively unemployed, about to move back home and trying to figure out where the fuck I'm supposed to go from here.

In some strange, cruel sorta way it's like I'm being given a second chance. A chance to start over and do things differently this time. Do things right. One more try. You better believe that I'm not going to mess around this time. The next time I get a call for a job offer I will be on the next flight out of here. I will dry eyed. I will have my vanilla bean latte in hand and the past 22 years of my life being dragged in my Betsey Johnson luggage behind me.

Ashley, Brittney and myself were in a music video last week. It was so much fun. Well, aside from me still trying to fight this gross, phlegmy, snotty, exhausting cold I have and popping cough drops every 15 minutes. Attractive, right? The video should be up by next week.. I can't wait to see it! Let's hope they were filming from all our good sides. ;)

(figured out how to make pictures bigger if you click on them! well most of them you can, haven't completely figured it out I guess!)

Music has always been such a huge part of my life. As Brittney's best friend, I felt it was my duty to take her to her first screamo/hardcore concert on Monday. Judging by the look on her face as soon as we walked into the building, she really had no idea what she was getting herself into. My friend recently started drumming for the band 'Everytime I Die". I haven't seen him in a while so even though I was dying a tiny bit myself from being sick, there was no way I wasn't going to go see him play while he was in town. As soon as we walked into the venue all Brittney said was "Dude, we are so out of place." I'm used to it though. People always find it weird when I say I grew up listening to this kinda of music. I skipped the whole Britney Spears, Backstreet Boys, Nsync, Otown, Mytown, West town, North town, whatever town phase and didn't start appreciating that sorta sugary sweet kinda music until years later after the hype was over.

I went to my first punk concert when I was about 14. Almost every weekend for the next three years were spent at local punk shows listening to live music while trying not to get kicked in the face while people jumped around in the mosh pits and screamed along to the undecipherable song lyrics. I was the preppiest girl at every punk show. Even at my 'punkiest' stage with my fauxhawked blonde hair, black tank tops, cargo pants and black eyeliner I still looked out of place. I get as many stares at a punk concert as a guy does when he accidentally walks into the ladies room. But it didn't matter to me then, and it doesn't matter to me now. Regardless of how different I appear to be from my 16 year old self, there's no doubt I'm the same punk concert going girl. As much as I've grown, some things never change. I still love my hardcore music. I still would rather spend any night at a live show then doing anything else. I still have the biggest grin on my face as soon as the lights dim and the band walks out on stage. I still scream along to Story Of The Year c.d's in my car when no ones with me. I still do a double take when any boy covered in tattoos passes by me. And I still believe in wearing shoes that look like they were stolen from a stripper to every concert I go to.

We went for tea and milkshakes at Denny's after the concert because.. well isn't that what everyone does after a punk show?

Every new beginning comes from some other beginnings end

Next week is my new beginning. I have a few events to attend, a fashion show to be in, things to film, meetings to try and not fall asleep during, and hopefully a few phone calls with job offers. I'm dry eyed and I'm ready for it. Bring it on.

Getting ready for the video shoot!

(double click on vid to get to my youtube page!)

I let go a little more each day...

i'm the type of girl who will burst out laughing when a room is quiet over something that happened yesterday....

I don't think that life should ever be boring. Sure, sometimes it's nice to take a break and sleep in. Take those extra couple of deep breaths that you need. Let your hair down and just relax. Or in my case take my hair.. out? (Guys - you know that cute brunette at the bar with the long flowing mermaid hair? Half of it is not real and would light up in flames if any source of heat gets too close. However don't try that, it's definitely not the way to her heart.)

When I start to get bored, I get restless. When I start to get restless, the adhd sugar and caffeiene induced part of me knows I need to do something about it. The result? Stories that make me wonder why I have friends and just makes me laugh - half out of embarrassment as I relive the moment, and half out of shame. One thing i've learnt is you gotta be able to laugh at yourself - life will eat you up and spit you out as soon as you start taking yourelf too seriously. My life is filled with such strange and magical and awkward moments. 

Enter scenario #1.

Last week there was one day when everyone left work early. I had a few more hours before I could leave the office and had no more work to do. Checked facebook. Replied to e-mails. Wasn't in the mood to blog. Made tea. Stared out window. Decided to learn how to rap. Why not, right? So it was me, some luke warm earl grey tea, and an unlimited supply of rap songs courtesy of youtube. I narrowed it down to one that I knew would be nice and challenging and keep me occupied. After about an hour I was feeling pretty good about it, life as a rap star flashed before my eyes once or twice. Ohh the bling! The booze! I could buy sneakers that cost more then my house!! Maybe I'd even get a grill! I mean, I have one that I can cook meat on, but I could get a matching one for my teeth! And one of those cars where the middle of the wheels keep spinning.. even when I'm stopped at a red light! 

Yeah, I could get used to that...

I got a bit too into this new passion of becoming a rapper because I didn't hear the knock at the door, or the footsteps of one of our clients walking into my office. I may or may not of even had my hat turned backwards. And by may, I mean I most definitely had my hat on backwards. The music was so loud that the walls looked like they were vibrating, and I was throwing up hand motions whenever I felt the song really needed it. (every second word.) 

She just stood there and stared at me. How do you redeem yourself from something like that? Oh, you don't. All I can say is hopefully one day when I'm known as D-hizle-muh-shizzle that that women will be able to say she had a front row viewing to my very first public rap performance.

Did you guys make New Year' resolutions? I sort of did. There's tons of things that I want to do and know I need to do this year, but I figure it's not going to motivate me any more to accomplish them by writing them down on a piece of paper and titling it "NEW YEARS RESOLUTIONS 2010 BABY!!" I summarized everything I plan on doing this year into this - be more amazing and successful then ever. Oh, and to smile more in pictures. 

People always give me such a hard time about my signature "picture face". I was reading the new issue of cosmopolitan the other day and according to it, people link how you portray yourself in pictures to your personality and what you're actually like...

Well, shit son. If you see me in person, it's unlikely that you'll ever see me notsmiling but as soon as someone pulls out a camera I seem to throw on a picture face that makes me look like a stone cold bitch. I can assure you that I'm not.

Here's how it goes down - 1.) Spot friend removing camera from purse. 2.)Realize it's picture time! 3.) Tilt head down a tiny bit. 4.) Turn cheek a little to the left. 5.)  Raise eyebrows half a millimeter. 6.) Pout lip. 7.) Wait for flash.8.) Annnd go back to smiling and having fun! I'm trying to erase numbers 3-7. There's too many things in life to smile about to waste time raising your eyebrows and pouting your lips. I think this resolution is off to a good start.

We have a new intern at work. I'm pretty stoked about it - not only is she a complete doll but I'm pretty sure that in her last life she was some sort of coffee God. This girl can make a cup of java like none other. Or perhaps I'm just delirious and exhausted from this past month. I slept in till 11:30 today. I forgot that this was humanly possible.

I like to think I learn from other peoples mistakes. So if I'm going to be able to help even one person out there learn from my mistake, well then telling this story will be worth it. Last night I decided to wax my own eyebrows. Didn't seem like that hard of a task. Put wax on, take wax off. I waxed off half of my left eyebrow. Who even does that?!!!

So kiddo's, do yourself a favor and anyone who's going to have to see your face for the next three weeks a favor and leave this to the professionals. Lesson learnt.