Ain’t that funny.

First of all I was listening to Jimmy Justice and he was the inspiration for the title of this post!

3 years ago I decided that I was going to write my life story. A memoir. I thought that my life was exciting enough that I would be able to put it in writing. People would laugh and write reviews about this amazing book about this amazing woman who survived all this shit!

Then I decided that most of us have survived shit. And what would be so different about my shit and other people’s shit? I don’t mean to call it shit in a bad way, but a lot of it was bad and it was shit.

I wrote Chapter 1. I haven’t looked at it in 3 years, because there was a barrier.  That barrier was my brain. It made me stop writing because I would have to recollect all the memories that I have saved up inside of it. I would have to write out all the things about all the stories that I have told multiple times to friends, to family, to anyone who could relate.

So today, I was having tea with a man who I work with and we never sat down to chat before. We admire each other very much, but we never sat down to chat or get to know each other. Today we did, and it tortured my little hamster wheel in my brain, and made it move very very very fast…

I always think that I’m always alone in the way I have lived, or the relationships I have kept (or not), the troubles that I go through and all of things that make me special.

Both of us have a very challenging relationship with our parents.  We’re not the only ones. The challenge IS the relationship.  I know a lot of others who have challenges too. All so different, yet so similar.

Coming to terms with the fact that my relationship with my Mother is so far gone hurts very much inside, but it also helps to know that I am not the only one in this world that is in this situation.

So this brings me back to my book. Originally, the book was supposed to focus on a very different story of my life, and my challenge today is getting past that barrier. Though I think I may have moved it over to the right a little bit…

My goal for the next few months is to open up that chapter and continue the story. Even if I don’t ever have it published in a book, I will share it with anyone who will read it as we all have our own story to tell. Stay Tuned…


Yes, No, Maybe so.

In the past 5 years I have been trying to alter the way I think.

Clearly, it’s taken me a long time to come to terms with my thoughts/actions/feelings/behaviour.

When I was going to therapy, I learned a lot about this cycle. So much that my therapist had to leave a permanent diagram on the whiteboard so that I could remember every time I came to sit in my chair.

It’s a cycle, it’s a circle, things happen & things don’t happen, depends on which mode you’re on.

I’ve learned to be more assertive, to expect the worse at times, and to not get too excited about things. Though, I naturally get excited about things, this does mean that I get easily disappointed easier than most (or so I think.) I still take things personally (but not as bad as I used to).

The one thing that I get now that I didn’t get before is that the one thing you may think is the worst at the time, IS NOT. It’s amazing how far positive thinking can take you.

ie: the thing I wanted to happen so badly that one time.. did not –> you can choose to be sad, angry or mad. You can choose to chalk it up as an experience that you can learn from and smile, knowing that there is nothing to be upset about. You move on.

I really don’t think life is that bad unless you are stuck in a crisis that may be life or death. I believe that everything happens for a reason, and that you can’t just force things to happen as you wish. Too much debt? Pay it off. Dislike your job? Find a new one.  Miserable in your relationship? Leave. Not as easy as one may think, right? There is no sense in wallowing in things that you CAN change, and sometimes even the things you cannot.

When I was a teenager I was diagnosed as being a manic depressive, and I feel that while I still may have a little bit of that inside of me, it’s how I choose to deal with it when it surfaces. I don’t let it get the best of me or take over.

I sound like I’ve been reading way too many Psychology Today articles, which maybe I have…

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A day in the life. Of my brain.

It’s Saturday morning. I wake up at 8:30 am, which is sleeping in for me on a weekend day.

I wake up, I wash the dishes, I play with Ralphie. Coffee gets pressed and I catch up on all my usual social media and instagram(s). I refuel with a second cup and am hoping to have the courage to call Rogers about my iphone bill because I’ve been with them for 13 years and I still can’t believe how much they can get away with.

What did we do without smart phones? It makes me so angry how much we all depend on an electronic device. It makes me sad that I depend on it so much too.

Ralphie goes under the table and wipes his wet nose on the glass. I laugh and pet him.

I think about all the things that I have to do today.

The Brain. Perhaps Mine.

Get winter jackets from storage. Get a haircut. Make a huge pot of chili that has to start cooking very soon so it tastes really good. Pack up most of my summer clothes, except the few I’ll take with me to California. Go to the Vancouver Burlesque Centre for my class and get nervous about how I am going to remember all those steps again. Get mad at myself because it’s not a class where you’re getting graded, but putting yourself down is a hard thing to defeat. Remind myself why I am even doing this at all. Because I want to. I quit the gym so I could take classes that make me feel good inside and outside.

Look at the mountain of laundry that has accumulated from mostly 2 people and some part time step children. Think about what I’m going to do tonight with the 6 year old because we’re on our own.

Think about all the things that I have to do this week and that we have to get up at 4am next Saturday morning to catch an early flight to Calgary for his brother’s wedding that weekend. Think about how nervous/excited I get about flying and how many imodiums I need to take.

Think about taking up meditation and just calming the fuck down.

It’s only  10am, and this is all that has occurred in my mind and the only thing I’ve actually done so far is the dishes and drink coffee.




A shake and A shimmy.

I’ve been trying to write this for 2 weeks!


I had the pleasure of performing in my first public show for What’s New Pussycat? at the Biltmore. Hosted by the fabulous Burgundy Brixx and the PURRRRRRRRRRRFESSOR! What a lovely couple they are.

The nervousness and excitement that I felt before the show was like no other. I couldn’t eat and I couldn’t stay still either. The anticipation of going on that stage to show an audience what I’m all about was one of the most amazing feelings that I could have ever experienced. Having the other girls with me performing that night was good energy – we were all feeling the same way.

I am so lucky.

For years, I have been trying to find something that can help celebrate my body and others..and do it in such a way that it is not only an art form, but an outlet. I have had my share of weight loss, weight gains, health issues, etc. Today I am learning to love my body the way it is, and to celebrate it. To be confident.

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Snug Jugs.


I am so tired of seeing women’s boobies in ill-fitting bra’s.

There are some important factors in choosing a bra.

1. band size
2. cup size
3. straps
4. how it looks under clothing (you don’t want a lace bra underneath a thin shirt)

I cannot stress the importance of having a good bra. It took me many years to achieve this status. I was done with my $15 bra’s that I found at Winners or at the Bay because it was on ‘sale’. Sale doesn’t mean good. If you can invest all those cheap bra funds, you could have a fabulous bra by now.

Most women don’t even know their own bra size. “It fits!” They say. Does it… fit? Most likely, it does not fit.

For years I was wearing a 38DD. Then I got fitted. Turns out I’m a 36F or G, depending on the fit and the store. Do you know how awesome it felt to be in a bra that actually fit? My boobs were perky again! They were not squished or flattened or MINIMIZED! They were themselves.. in their own home.

It’s not that hard to find bra’s that fit, even for us more voluptuous ladies. And for goodness sake, STOP BUYING MINIMIZERS! Why do you want to minimize your shit? You don’t. Let them frolic. Let them be. Do not minimize by any means. You don’t want to flatten them do you? Your boobs will look like pancakes. And pancakes are for eating and spreading on the syrup (oh…)

There is no reason you have to make an excuse to wear a granny looking bra, when there is now so much selection out there for a proper looking and cute bra.

No more sloppy boobies!

Places to find  a bra that fits (well that I have anyway):

Cacique (their online store has a lot of selection)

CHANGE (most likely will have to go inside one to get a good fit!)

This link is also a very good resource for busty girls!

Hop to it, ladies!




Letter to Maia.

Dear Maia,

I rescued you when you were 2 months old. Those big ears when you were a kitten made me laugh, because you would run around the house like the RoadRunner. They turned into small ears on your normal head (you had a bright orange patch on the top, too!)

You used to run in the back alley for hours at a time and I would cry because I thought you were lost forever. Then we put you on a leash and you loved it.
 You would cry and meow at the door when you wanted to go outside. You quite enjoyed laying in the grass – bird watching, eating the tall grass and listening to life go by. I never could train you to use the bathroom outside.
I used to look at you and you would remind me of my Grandpa. Those stern eyes and that grumpy look on your face made me think you were him – reincarnated. I still think that’s the case. My Grandpa always looked irritated, just like you. As I remember him, I remember you too.

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Journey to Burlesque for Minnie Peron.

I’ve been practicing a lovely thing called Burlesque, and I love it. Since February 2012 I’ve been taking classes on and off.. buying things to make costumes with and trying to perfect (it will never happen) the art of Burlesque.

I am absolutely loving it. At a time and an age that I feel more and more comfortable in my skin. I may not like where my body and my weight is at this time, but I feel comfortable if that makes sense to anyone other than me.

It’s not just about sexuality, it’s about opening up yourself – not only about how you can be perceived by others, but most importantly how you perceive yourself.

When I look in the mirror, I only see a beautiful woman surrounded by beautiful curves. There are days when I don’t feel beautiful, but mostly, I do. And I would never lie about how I feel about myself, because I only have one life and I don’t want to spend it feeling miserable about my body. I don’t even care what anyone else thinks about me, or my weight, or how I shouldn’t be wearing a bikini on the beach (I do, and I love it). I will never apologize for me, or for my body, or how much weight I am or not.

Burlesque has taught me a lot of things about myself and others. It’s not just about dancing. Women are beautiful and gorgeous and sensual… So far no guys in my class, but I’m sure they’d be the same.

I have people around me that support me so much, that I could never ever fathom giving this art form up. Even if I just have to perform in my own kitchen. I am lucky to have a partner that not only supports me, but ENCOURAGES me. Even the step-kids get to take part.. they love to help with dance moves and gluing sequins on various items.

All in all, it’s an awesome experience in which I hope goes a lot further. On May 24th, I will be performing in front of a selected audience, along with a few other girls. I am excited and also nervous, but definitely not shy or even scared. Thank you Jana Shishkin for being an amazing instructor and for not making any boundaries and for letting me be myself and encouraging differences.


The art of gratitude, or not.

2012 was like a reflective pool of awesomeness. I learned a lot about myself and about the people around me (as well as.. the people I don’t want around me).

I learned that it’s OKAY to have expectations and if those expectations don’t follow through that it’s OKAY to be disappointed.

They always says “Expect nothing and you won’t be disappointed.” As much as I would love to believe that phrase, I can’t. I cannot accept that I should have low expectations from people. There are certain moments when you have to let it roll off your back, but I will be damned if I don’t have any expectations of anything or anyone in this world.

I mean, I have high expectations of myself, so why would I lower that for anyone else? I don’t.

I read a great article in Psychology Today (my favourite mag) and it really made me go “YES, THAT!” The Healing Gift of Non Gratitude. I wish I would have found it sooner, as it would have explained all the fluff going on in my head.

Reading that in the past week was my a-ha moment, if there ever was one.

I still cry.
I still am sad.
I still am angry.
I still am happy.
I still laugh.
I still LOVE and I still LIVE.

I trust my feelings.

And it’s okay. It’s all okay. I don’t need to be perfect. I don’t need to accept things I don’t want to. I don’t have to believe something just because you tell me so. I don’t have to have low expectations because that’s the way it should be (it shouldn’t). I don’t have to believe in anything if I don’t want to. I don’t have to do what you tell me because you think you can.

Does that make sense? In my head it does. Here’s to an eye opening 2013.

Most of all, this is my world, right here.

My world.

They saved me. They’ve made me a better person. And I, in turn, get to take care of them.

I love you Veronica, Natalie & Darcy. Without you, I would be a shell of myself. With you, I am a hard shell full of love.

My Night with the Amnesia Machine

Transient Global Amnesia. It sounds like band, doesn’t it? The title came from the band My Life with the Thrill Kill Kult (kudos to anyone who knows!)

Thursday evening September 27th, it’s 6pm. Darcy arrives home from work and I’m standing in the kitchen in a slinky outfit stirring the risotto for our dinner. I have wine ready and on the table. We eat dinner and drink half a glass of wine and go to the bedroom .. This part is censored 😉

Afterwards, Darcy goes to shower, comes back and sits on the bed and says “I feel very disoriented, I have to sit down.” Then proceeds to ask me what we had for dinner and what day it was. At first I laughed, thinking he was trying to be funny, but when he kept getting up to get water because his mouth was dry, I knew something was really wrong.

Knowing Darcy how I know him, these behaviours were different. I tried to call his brother so he could recall a conversation they had the night prior, but I couldn’t get a hold of him. After him asking me several times what day it was, I promptly called 8-1-1 which is our Healthline. They referred me to the Ambulance and within 10 minutes they were in the house.

The paramedic asked me when this happened and I said “Right after we were intimate.” He said it sounded like a concussion, but we were sure that he didn’t hit his head anywhere or injure himself that evening. That I knew of….

Fast forward to the hospital. As he was in the ambulance on the way – I stayed home so that I could get myself together and drive my car to the hospital. I happened to google the term ‘amnesia after sex’. I came up with an article that exactly described what had just happened.

Amazing. If this was the case there would be no implications of this ever happening again and it was a temporary thing. Except, it lasted way longer than a few hours and that had me scared.

Once he was admitted they brought him back to his bed, where he would spend the night. They did a lumbar puncture, a CT scan and all the other tests you need to do in order to make sure it wasn’t a brain or head injury, or a stroke.

I knew deep down inside what it was, but I was waiting for them to come to the conclusion. The resident Neurologist (a young kid, really) had me take video on his iPhone as well.

After 2:30 am I went home to get a couple hours of sleep. Darcy couldn’t stop talking and trying to recall the date (which had me and nurse in a ton of stitches).. but I needed rest and so did he, which apparently didn’t happen for him. They even turned off the lights above him and he still wouldn’t be quiet. It was endearing, but I’m sure the staff were tired of his incessant babbling and needing to know the date.

I arrived back the hospital around 7am, when Dr. Foti the Neurlogist that was on call came for a visit. He had confirmed that he had a case of  ‘Transient Global Amnesia’ and that I should keep an eye on him for the next few days. Which also meant Darcy latching onto my arm everywhere we went (we had to get groceries!)

We’re happy to have that experience behind us, as it was scary, but it was an eye opener for both of us. I kind of love him more now than I ever did before. The thought that I could have lost him tore a hole in my stomach. As of right now, as I write this he’s golfing in Palm Springs.

Thanks to all the staff at VHG, especially Emma the Nurse.


The Level of Insanity

There are some days where I hope to find support among other ‘step mothers’ or just women that are committed to a man that has children, without that woman having children of their own (me).

It seems to be a rare thing these days (we must be going extinct!) The online forums I have looked into are all about the step moms complaining and whining about their woes – complaining about the ex-wife, complaining about her new husband, complaining about the children. Oh, and the abbreviations, don’t even get me started on how much abbreviations drive me up the wall. DH, SM, SC, SO. Just spell it out, I don’t need a glossary to be looking up terms.

It’s just like being married and having a child of your own – you’ve decided to do this. The amount of complaining baffles me.

One website I visited had this:

“DS – Dick Stain – You do the math there.”

Really, have grown women stooped to this level of name calling? Come on.

And this “WL – Window Licker – a politically incorrect term for someone a little slow – as in they lick the windows on the school bus. “

What site would I want to pay $2.50 for? Reading about women bitch about everything and everyone in their life? No thanks.

There is a difference between whining/complaining and just venting. If you’re unhappy about your life, then change it. I know that there are so many things out of your control when you’re a step mom (or not!)

I don’t have it easy either, I don’t, but I look on the bright side of things. There are many bright sides of the life that I have.

1. I have 2 amazing step children because I have an amazing partner. The kids are pretty awesome because both their Mom and Dad have raised them that way. I hope that I have had a small part in that too, but I can’t be too confident.

2. I can maintain a lifestyle that I want. Spending time with them/having a family life and also maintaining my OWN hobbies. I am never going to have my own children and it works for me. I hope I can write this without offending people, but having my own children would not fit in with the life that I want.

This never happens, funnily enough.