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Oxymorons

There was no parking on my street because of all the people who drove to Car-free day.

GPS Fails

Last time I used GPS it literally sent me down a dirt road!

Now that ..

I take anxiety pills, I feel like dealing with co-workers is a hoot . I've even befriended my previous enemies at work and I managed to call my old boss. Wow what a 360. Happy for my self.

A day like any other

I never had a relationship with my father. He was and is a selfish, self-absorbed tiny man who made everyone miserable in his wake. He ruined every holiday and every birthday, every vacation and every family gathering . He left a message just before Father's Day rambling about hoping I wouldn't hate him for the rest of his life and other nonsense . Whatever, I only heard a few words before erasing it, I finally had enough and decided to block him. If he dies, I'll eventually see something on google. He can keep the inheritance that he dangles, using his money to snag attention like the way a person has porkchops tied to their ears so dogs will approach him. It's a nightmare that I'm glad I don't ever have to see or hear from again. I ignore this holiday meant to honor normal fathers. I use it to celebrate my life and freedom from his awfulness. I didn't ask to be born. I didn't ask to come here. He failed his job, his duty, his responsibility. I owe him nothing. I think I'll get an ice cream.

I’ve fallen for a stripper

I recently went to a strip club for the first time. I’m in my 30s. I had two dances with a kind and beautiful performer. I know they have a way to make you feel like the most important person in the room. But between powerful eye contact and laughing, I felt a instant bond. I felt she did too. When I mentioned, she blushed and just nodded. And that’s that.

Pot

My friend is totally grumpy until he has a puff (& he has to smoke almost everyday) - is that addicted?

Cancer Mugs

When I was in art school, I studies ceramics for a while. I liked it and, the more I worked at it, the better I got. As students, we produced copious amounts of "sometimes beautiful, sometimes functional, sometimes not" bowls, vases, plates, cups, mugs, pots, etc. As a cancer survivor, I came up with the idea of donating handmade mugs to the BC Cancer Agency Foundation's gift shop in order to help raise funds for the cancer hospital. If my idea was successful, maybe it could become an ongoing thing! Excited, I spoke to my instructors, then I spoke to the hospital foundation and everyone loved the idea. I pitched the idea to the students in my class and put posters up around the ceramics studio asking for donations of handmade mugs to help raise money for the BC Cancer Agency. We set up a couple of shelves in one of the studio cabinets and labeled the cabinet clearly so folks would know where to leave their finished mugs. We ended up with a small but nice selection of mugs and even some of the instructors – all talented ceramic artists – donated a few mugs as well. On the Friday that I went to the studio to pick the mugs up to take them to the hospital gift shop, most of the mugs were gone, including every single mug that the instructors had donated. As I stood there, box dangling from my hand, wondering how this could have happened, the ceramics tech came by and told me that I should have locked them up. At the time the ceramics studio was card-access only (burning hot kilns and some highly toxic ingredients for making custom glazes made this a necessary safety protocol) so only a small group of students, instructors, techs and the maintenance staff had access to the studio; I figured that was enough security to keep the mugs safe from random thieves. Besides, who would steal from a hospital fundraiser? Any money that was generated would be going towards helping people who were fighting for their lives! I guess I was naive. I took all the posters down, informed the instructors, and made a humiliating call to the hospital foundation. The mugs may not have raised a ton of money, even if my idea had become an ongoing partnership between the school and the hospital but, as any hospital administrator will tell you, every little bit helps. I hope that the stinking, sh*t-soaked piece of human garbage that stole all those mugs remembers what s/he did when they find themselves in the cancer hospital that they stole from. Considering that one in three Canadians gets cancer, the chances are high that either s/he or someone s/he cares about is going to need the hospital's help at some point in their lives. Karma's going to bite you hard, a**wipe. Enjoy your coffee.

mother-in-law

I. Am. Learning. Great. Patience. Oh. My. God. I week of chaperoning around Vancouver with her is worth years in some Tibetan monastery.

Come and I will sing you

All I want to do is sing. But that is the thing I am most afraid to do. Why is it like that? Why are the things that are so close to our hearts the things we are most terrified of expressing? I know not everyone is like that, some people are just totally free and don't seem self-conscious about expressing themselves. But I have a bird in my heart that wants to fly, and I keep it caged, repressed, barely alive, and show it to no one. It's so painful but I keep doing it.

It’s sad when love goes

I confess that I’m feeling sad because I’m not in love anymore. It was like a constant that was always there, even though it was mostly heartbreaking. Now that I’ve realized that I don’t feel the same way about him, letting it go for one last time feels bittersweet. Now I have to get my mind wrapped around the idea of meeting someone new for the first time in so long. It’s daunting but exhilarating all at once. Single guys in your 50’s, I’m looking for you!

I SAW YOU

Golden Ears East Canyon Lot

I saw you looking at the map with your cute, overly friendly dog. I was going to introduce myself...

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