Maybe I shouldn’t blog anymore, maybe try video blogs to spice things up but then the anonymity is lost, not that this was anonymous… as I had hoped, I feel like someone just read my diary and I am not liking it, maybe I will start journaling and bury that shit under a tree and only dig it up under a full moon every 3 months. Just feeling overwhelmingly exposed and paranoid. Sometimes I feel like if I say what I mean or think then I am being extremely offensive and I will hurt other peoples feelings and I am OK with people not liking me, but I am not OK with feeling like I am being covert with how I feel, and unfortunately it seems really hard to:

A) Not offend by being honest

B) Be honest and not offend

C) Be myself without being offensive

D) Not give a shit

E) Not talk about it or in this case blog about it

F, G and H) Who the fuck really cares right

I guess I do. And its weighing on me.

It's confirmed: I'm coming back to Canada, and I'll be offering poi classes in Vancouver throughout July!

CLICK HERE FOR DETAILS

read more

It's confirmed: I'm coming back to Canada, and I'll be offering poi classes in Vancouver throughout July!

CLICK HERE FOR DETAILS

read more

“Have you ever been in love? . . . Horrible, isn’t it? . . . It makes you so vulnerable. . . . It opens your heart & it means someone can get inside & mess you up. You build up all these defenses. You build up this whole armor, for years, so nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life. You give them a piece of you. They don’t ask for it, They do something dumb one day like kiss you, or smile at you, & then your life isn’t your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out & leaves you crying in the darkness, so a simple phrase like “maybe we should just be friends” . . . turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. . . . It’s a soul-hurt, a body-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. Nothing should be able to do that. Especially not love. I hate love. (from Sandman) ” — Neil Gaiman

This is not a martyr pity party personality thing, just that sometimes the world needs to back off. I am a weird, aloof, obscure , badly timed woman who has surface character flaws and too many to count below the surface character flaws so ….I don’t know what to say…At least I’m consistently inconsistent.

flibbity gibbit

let the gibberish begin

The Locomobile steam car at the Canada Science and Technology Museum in Ottawa is described as “circa 1901″. I have a feeling it might be an early 1902 model. It is chassis number 555 and has the Stanhope type two body with the ogee shaped front, rather than the flat upright dashboard. The Locomobile was [...]

huh

well

you know sometimes

that’s all there is to say