it’s hard to ignore how fully lazy and sloppy some of my fellow burlingtonists are.

seriously, what is going on here have you not heard of trying?

supes more terrible on the eyes in real life. i am fighting the urge to go over there right now and asking did you just like give up after drive-by throwing that multi-coloured net light strand up there like that? thanks for the laughs we get every time we pass your joint. i know that was mean but i don’t care, if you saw this thing in the daylight you’d get very depressed.

spicy food lips plus red chapstick and sweats.

far out man.

sriracha attack. craving it big time now.

i think my hair is too brassy.

pee pee stance?

first time leaving the house since monday.

went to this new cozy place (albeit douchey)(big time) around the corner called tin cup. nice place but a little (a lot) out of place. i think they forgot to check the city map before they decorated the inside as the clientele they’re going for aren’t exactly the dominant-residing citizen of this town. it was funny seeing the faces of some of those canadian tuxedos coming through the door looking around and immediately leaving. also there’s an enormous tiger woods photo on the wall you guys obviously don’t read the news and another thing, golf sports bar? good luck with that genre. moreover while i’m at it what’s with all these new “high-end” suburban restaurants with their obnoxiously tall and sumptuous (oooh sooo sumptuous) booths? darkly coloured wrap-around the restaurant seating oh my god we get it you’re exclusive-posturing fuck off oh how nice they don’t use decimal points in their prices we must be in for a reeeeal experience now!

sorry sorry whatever. hating all the time is exhausting. maybe one day a week i will have a nothing but positivity rule around here see how that goes over. how interesting. but until then let me tell you about the girls night out table beside us and their large order of nachos (served in a trough)(i have never seen a plate so big before in my life) that took them forever to get through. i wasn’t going to slag them until i remembered just now they all shot me dirty up and down looks (according to dave) when i had to squeeze by to pay the bill. on the way back i purposely slinked through with maybe 4 inches of room and how dare i nudge their chair just a little bit. at least i was dressed like punky brewster. fuck them. i temporarily revoke my women rule take as i am frequently reminded of how many shitty ones there are out there. why can’t you just ignore my existence entirely while mawing through layers of nachos like how i ignore your awful hairstyles and wardrobe?

’tis the season!

here i’ll make it up to you this is the best part in the hangover:

i am so fat and bloated from being sick and barely moving the past few days i want a treadmill asap.

oh god. i have in my possession a diary of mine from 1999. it got mixed in with a bunch of christmas junk and as it’s just a regular hilroy notebook my mom thought it was hers (yeah sure) cos the second half contains her journal entries about me haha ugh. i can’t even bring myself to get passed page 3 of this thing so i’m just going to transcribe without thinking hit publish and forget about it. the good thing is i have 30 more diaries chock-full of embarrassment. i used to have to write in code cos my snoopy mother aka gestapo back when we were teenagers just couldn’t not invade my privacy. the one time i took off for a nite at 16 to party at sherkston beach my parents call the cops and file a missing persons report (guys relax why are you so obsessed with me)(kidding relax again) inviting cops into my room and they all had a good ole time rifling through my fucking diaries. so invasive. mom, it’s not called running away it’s called givin’er. she was all angry cos if i “ran away” again the cops would be all too bad you cried wolf once. anyway this journal is the aftermath of that, being grounded.

12.07am date unknown ok i can’t even post that entry so embarrassing. maybe this was a bad idea. today me comments will be in brackets.

2.46am natural spring water – one sip of
9 blueberries – consumed
goodnight

(PRETENTIOUS NERD MUCH)

1.31am august 8/99

sat in a beautiful outdoor bistro today. perrier, earl grey, fruit tart et ice glacee. (i am dying inside right now this is brutal i can barely get through it)(i am such an asshole too, perrier? when did i ever order that prior to this? never.) absolutely divine. (i want to jump out of a fucking window) complete with cobblestones, antique lamps with vines + grapes. umbrellas, marble tables with wrought iron chairs. busboys + servers were hitting on me. yup – still got it! (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)(at 16 i should hope so wtf) niagara on the lake. bought a chapeau. (a stupid black old lady/blossom hat that i wore never)(and please stop dropping french words thanks)

1.42pm august 9/99

it is 1.42 in the afternoon (yes thanks we know) and i have not yet showered or brushed my teeth. still grounded and beginning to crawl out of my mind. or persay, (OMG PERSAY) my mind is crawling out of me. OK. i’ll let it out of the bag. i’m depressed. but that word is so petty. so common. i hate everyone. (how novel) i hate this place more so. i need a holiday away from everyone. i am quite bored.

then in cheesy script i wrote Like a minx…… (PROFOUND!)

august 10/99 11:01pm

will meet kevin spacey. (oh god)

ok so i’ve been omitting all the gay quotes i put in this thing oh whatever here’s one:

12.06am 11 august 99

val is dead he OD’d on E w/painkillers. terrible. poor val. tears are an indulgence.

so i snuck out during the day to hang with some of the crew i partied with at sherkston and one of them died obvs. i had forgotten all about that. i was playing football (catch) with that guy for hours and all these jocks joined in couldn’t believe the arm on me, true i had the wind advantage but still. anyway val was in the back of my friend’s car on the way to wherever and no one knew he was dead his gf was in the front seat. fucked.

1.42am

sometimes i think if people could see into my heart, nobody would love me. sometimes you just can’t believe how awful you are. it makes you shake your head.

i guess i stopped writing dates down. i’ve skipped ahead a bit it got a little too cheesed out there.

7.37pm

you could smell the rose bushes that’s some kind of flower. like a drug or something. one sniff makes you feel like you’re not living up to scratch, you should be having a better time. one night, i’d like to feel as if i wasn’t waiting for my life to start for once, i’d like to have a life as good as the one you imagine when you smell roses.

FAAAAAAAAAAAART!

don’t worry it gets worse the following is me drunk journaling in my nana’s backyard in the moonlight with candles lit all around me gaaaay. i had to stay with them for a week during a new grounding period for taking off with two swiss dudes in huntsville when my parents took me to some resort and i fucked up their time. i was also faking a british accent (my favoured specialty) and my mom totally busted me on the patio drinking with these guys and faking it i had to take her aside and sternly whisper scream at her not to blow my cover meanwhile she’s laughing her balls off. here’s a tip: never take an ungrateful (depressed) teenager (who is already grounded)(nothing to lose) on vacation with you. if i had more room and freedom i wouldn’t have done half the stupid shit that i did, JUST SAYIN’.

i could be in paris, looking up at the moon like i am now. eating melon, a whole variety of melons. water, honeydew, cantaloupe. i could be on a beautiful patio/balcony with the city lights everywhere, my lover (ew) could be in the bedroom indoors, smoking expensive cigarettes and butting them out in tinfoil ashtrays. (WHAT? why wouldn’t there be ceramic ashtrays? am i in a gorgeous ghetto?) i could be rich and sinister, sneering at the lower class. (ohhh great) i could be the lower class. (phewf!) i could crush grapes, staining my fingers and licking off the juice. i could fly away. i could be a bird. i could be the smartest person in the whole world, and you could know it. i could be invisible i remember when all i cared about was candy. i remember all i ever wanted was candy, and all i ever thought about was candy and i always envied hansel + gretel. (why am i such a huge fucking liar?) i remember snow white and her beautiful forest with talking birds and such. i remember the ocean in florida and red pistachio nuts at night. i remember gym class and how i could never haul myself up that rope. i remember the playground and scraping my knees on the limestone. i remember santa claus i remember being alone and how much i hate yelling. i remember winter.

ok i have to go do some actual writing now. sorry for wasting your time. truly.

vote raymitheminx please!

ahh so spoiled. keira fucking rules, here’s why but before that dave says thanks too cos there is nothing he wants more than more hello kitty shit littering his house. he is very pumped to now be the co-owner of a hello kitty chachka.

ooooh which one could it be?

the suspense was gonzo as i had the weakling pretty bad in-trying to tear this thing open.

good choice!!!! so whimsical i keep staring at it and sighing dreamily.

now these are why she rules. i went vintage shopping with keira in vancouver and spent way too much money then spied these on our way out, wanted them but forced myself to stop (i have a sunglasses collecting problem) and off we went. then sneaky goes back and gets them for me so sweet. i totally forgot about them too.

they come in super handy for sick season. mostly though i cannot wait for summer now more than ever.

lets go skipping.

there’s a video of me reading the card. i think i sound raspy and whispery in it.

keira is one of those girls everybody wants to hate cos they’re so perfect but then you meet her and realize she can get down and shitty like the best of ‘em, namely me. she has a heart of gold, clearly, and is a girl’s girl which i absolutely love. i am too, people never expect that of me but anyway, i relate to keira because her real life persona rules and i’m not saying that her blog persona doesn’t i just mean i was expecting perfection and all that comes along with it (can often be boring no?) but turns out she is a real human being. the only way i know how to compare it by is how people feel when they meet me and realize how great i am, right steph? you just have to meet her, the end.

thanks gill xoxo!

you too britt and brad <3.

sage is jazzed for summer too.

here she is today.

i set designed that dog hair pube fuzz to purposely be in the shot too fyi.

here i am nite one of being sick and letting my hair dry naturally. wavy mess monster.

the landlord came over to complain about his sick wife and i said fifty times in-between his heavy portuguese-accented english ramblings that i too was sick. i was sniffling and sneezing and coughing like crazy, blowing my nose, dude still didn’t get it. then he said i looked good. i always try to mask my sickness under loads of makeup then by the time i get to mascara i stop and it appears like i have no facial features haha. the landlord cannot handle playing wife, making meals, i almost said that is so portuguese of you. it was obvious he stormed out of the house in the middle of a spat cos he mentioned he was really sick. anyway it was cool feeling like i was on death’s door listening to twenty minutes of complaining.

ps. if you want to make a thing of my portuguese generalization i fully invite you to do so. i went to a largely-attended by portuguese kids elementary school as streetsville’s community is hugely port. based (as well as italian) fuck, all my best friends were ‘chops and one of which’s father helped build the school. also five years spent working in an indie hardware store makes me an expert on every single nationality there is. one portuguese dude wouldn’t ever let me lift top soil bags into his trunk “because i was a girl and would get dirty” i had to fight him on it meanwhile he’s got parkinsons and is like a thousand years old. i just had to outright ignore him and chuck those (heavy) things into the trunk clap my hands clean and on to the next customer. portuguese guys are great workers but make them clean something, fix a meal, anything remotely femaley and all of a sudden their work-ethic goes straight out the window.

then i got up to change. pissing in those overalls is super annoying you’re sitting there half naked shivering your ass off crouched on the toilet.

so pale. nice muscle def tho! too lazy to do a full mask.

if you’re ever bored go for a tan when you’re sick and feverish. i’ve done it in the past and it is the stupidest idea ever right after tanning following sushi (near-ass explosion) lunch. hi i’m sweating and snotting big time now i am going to lie in an ultra-violet superbed coffin for 8 minutes.

not much happening in these parts.

except eating every hour cos as long as i keep eating i forget i’m sick. starve a flu feed a cold? feed a cold starve a flu? haha exact same thing i have been going over that line in my head over and over also it’s helpful to know what exactly you’re sick with. do you like that my friend olive oil (on the stove) is also wearing an apron? she’s so martha stewart i love her.

i think i’m on the mend despite still feeling utterly brutal. this morning it was pleasing to clear my throat into the toilet. i say no more.

keira is all over the archives here and here.

i have this accent down-pat now. this is from when i first busted it out and it was fun decorating the tree talking like this. words with more than two syllables are choice. like, orn-a-ment for instance. i just decided that “for instance” is going to make its way into as many sentences as possible (that i speak) after everything i say. it will be my new like.

you get a massive headache from laughing and your jaw kills too. bye!

for practice.

uuuuuuuuuugh last nite i slept with a roll of tp cradled lovingly in the crook of my arm and a wad stuffed up my right nostril it was fucking bliss. today i am just as if not more sick than i was yesterday. watched home alone 2 and actually laughed at things. under the weather delerium. the sound of the sigh that just came out of me was so sad a squirrel committed suicide in the backyard just now. thanks holly for passing this on. dave is coming down with it too now. fuckin’ party tiiiiyme!

intense douchebag vision.

how can you guys not be tanned if all you do is walk around beaches holding hands all the time? oh right, staged pap shots.

soooo stir crazy.

i asked dave why he had a black light. it belonged to his dad. cool.

my hair. way natural.

i did not purchase last month’s issue (or whichever month it was) because megan fox was on the cover as i do not give a fuck about her or have any curiosity to learn more. i am entirely mortified to admit this. i feel super fat and jealous and ashamed by it now think what ugly girls must be feeling! so for a month i acted indifferent every time i would pass a glance over to the magazine section of shoppers. another thought, megan fox on the cover of a magazine in my possession, on a table out in the open, and then we all have to talk about her and then i’ll be forced to talk shit about her cos i am competitive like that. see how insane magazines make us feel? oh awesome my other nostril just opened up ahhhhhh. anyway, i want to learn more about hilary duff because she is the good kind of irritating. i think her and lauren conrad are the exact same personality-type. smug, cunty, judgmental because they woke up one day and realised they’re boring and don’t know how to have good times. isn’t hilary duff with some athlete guy now? and other than tiger woods, how exciting are athletes? the only good thing is she’s getting fat again. or was for a short while there. lauren conrad makes megan fox look like tina fey. as in crazily likeable. thanks a lot lauren “forehead creases from all that eyebrow-raising judgementalism” conrad.

oh it’s a canadian hockey player so she gets two points for that. one point for the canada and the other guilt point is for my canadian pride and mandatory love of hockey for being canadian. those are the rules, don’t like it then leave.

SICK UPDATE: STILL SICK

here’s all this shit i looked at today:

if this shit is true then i say fuck yeah heidi fleiss revival!

warning super duper disturbing

oh god love her love her

my nickname is Hot Spot

massive massive buzzkill. DRINKS HER OWN VOMIT. clip 5 is hysterical kind of.

wicked. sent to my dad. 11pm last call is a stupid, stupid drag.

this one gets a pleasant: WTF?

i am sick. again. this time real sick. last week’s sick was not pretend sick, it was just different sick. anyway this sick’s symptoms include: being stuffed up, (no more smoking indoors dewds!)(EVER!) massive head pain from being stuffed up, ears hurt, (probably from picking them too much) sore/tight throat and all over weakness. i guess all those picking my nose and eating it trances have finally caught up with me. i have an important appointment in toronto tomorrow i’ve been counting on for weeks and i’m gonna have to bail on it as i’m just in the beginning stages of feeling this awesome i know it is only going to be worse two-fold come tomorrow. well at least i’m getting it over with this week.

that woman against the wall in black cardi would simply not shut the fuck up.

favourite drink picture cos it looks like pepto bismol, is pink and ghetto-seeming.

last nite i made an amazing batch of jerk chicken with pinto beans and rice ahh gad it was amazing. my brother and dave were dying it was so hot. good thing i bought that sour cream. everyone was peeling off layers. such a good high hot food is. jerk chicken, bob marley on a shitty monday winter nite, i recommend it. plus ganj obvs.

so pumped this bag is still kickin’ around i thought i had given it away in one of my many legendary generous tornadoes of selflessness. the person i thought had had it didn’t fucking deserve it anyway.

the salon totally wipes me out.

no? not a good look for me?

i have a photo of this on my blog from the last time i came to have my hair destroyed (entirely my fault though).

i love these little zany pieces of flare people proudly share with the world. thanks for letting me know you’re just as, if not more, insane than i am. no seriously lets hang.

sweet little dogs so cute so teeny.

sigh that necklace exploded all over the bedroom floor. i had it hung on a knob on the dresser slammed a door, it got hooked and snap, everywhere. i’m going to put it all back together again though, the wooden beads are cool.

being driven (crazy) by mother to hair appointment.

and here we have some awkward eye contact with sage while she takes a dump and models one of my necklaces. i put a shirt on her too for a photoshoot, took it off but this necklace blended in with her fur so she wore it for the rest of the nite. how elegant!

alright time to cruise the internet see you there!

my bro representin’ our g-ma a few weeks ago.