I use this here blog to vomit posts largly focused on any of the following:

• Wonder Woman
• Superheroes
• Star Wars
• Battlestar Galactica
• Robots
• Sci-fi in general
• Tattoos and art that inspire me
• Moustaches, scruff, butts, boobs and beards
• Banjos, flamingos and octopi
• My dog Helo, aka demon robot puppy, aka stupid, aka meatloaf
• Photos of myself standing in my office bathroom, usually after I’ve pooped
• I just post a lot of photos of myself

I ramble on here about nothing and everything and quite often overshare my awkward moments. I snort when I laugh and swear like a sailor, I can be crude and crass but blush easily. I think sex should be fun and serious and rough and sweet and sentimental and quick and lasting and kinky with laughing in between. I whore my art out incessantly on here to make ends meet. I will speak out for what I believe in and defend those I love viciously. I am all over the place, spaztastic and a klutz. I like meeting new people, online, in life, errywhere. I answer questions honestly but I’m not a completely open book… some things are too tender or scary or frivolous to admit, even to myself. I have baggage, issues and vices that I indulge myself in too often. I’m already planning my Halloween costume. I miss Belgium.

I can’t sing for shit. I can’t get lyrics right for shit. That doesn’t stop me.

I have participated in the Carnivale (Mardi Gras) Parade in Trinidad three times. In those carnival costumes… or non-existant costumes, rather. It’s the second biggest Carnivale in the world after Brasil’s. It’s the most amazingly fun experience I’ve ever had.

I recently made a coworker spit her coffee out (in my face) when I told her how old I was… she thought I was 24.

I think that if people are allowed to bring babies on the subway I should be allowed to bring my dog. Seriously… someone can bring their often screaming, sometimes smelly/spit up-y babies in strollers the size of Monstertrucks that jam into anyone’s ankles who don’t get out of the way fast enough and are usually accessoried with at least one if not two diaper bags that inevitably will take up at least three seats. but I can’t bring my dog who is a well behaved traveller and fits in my arms.

I am so fucking bored at my job… I need to be challenged, be creative, use my qualified skillsets, stay busy. I need the money.

I hate money. always sinking never afloat. I feel like I’m treading water in a sumo suit. actually, a sumo suit might float so make that jousting armour.

Speaking of which I have never been to Medieval Times. I want to go so bad. I don’t care how cheesy and overpriced it is. I want to yell Shakespearian insults at the opposing knights like ‘Thy Father is a Gorbellied Codpiece!’… and smell horsey smells.

I have this problem where I have a thing for guys who never live remotely near me. actually this is not my problem, this is their problem for living in the wrong place. yes. let’s roll with that.

sex. touching. caressing. cuddling. making out. sex. touching. caressing. cuddling. making out. sex. touching. caressing. cuddling. making out. sex. touching. caressing. cuddling. making out. my brain has apparently been taken over by that of a 13-yr-old who just hit puberty.

I threw cuddling in there to make it sound less like I had a one track mind.

I don’t understand people who sit forever in the bathroom to poop. I’m in and out… as quickly as possible.

I also always use the ‘disabled’ stall in public washrooms because the seat is usually taller which makes it pretty much normal sized for me.

I’m really dreading my next wax appointment… I have to find someone who’s good in Montreal. that can mean I find some bad first.

I’m Canadian/Dutch and speak both, as well as French and Flemish (which is a dialect of dutch with some french and german words thrown in to just make it more confusing) and some German and Spanish… I used to know Danish and Italian but have forgotten everything but swearing.

I could write a shit-tonne more and you’d still not have even scratched the surface about who I am.

I fuck up. all the time. I let stupid thoughts sneak into my brain sometimes and screw around with my self esteem and on occasion have one night stands with my vindictive side. I let my hurt and anger get the better of me more often than I care to admit. I slack off and let my body get unhealthy with vices running rampant all too often. I let procrastination seduce me into staying in bed, or on the couch, or anywhere really, rather than get important shit done. I have scars and wrinkles and cellulite and I definitely don’t have cute toes (too much soccer trauma). I talk too much and snort too loudly when I laugh. I hate talking on the phone and always forget to call my friends back. I have trust issues, largely due to my choice issues and hardly ever cry. but when I do it ain’t pretty and involves a lot of snot. I hate it when people see me cry. I’ve cried more in the last 6 months than I have in years. I was broken and I’ve just started to mend. I have jiggly bits and wiggly bits when I run, jump or wave too hard. I bottle shit up. I blatantly indulge in things I should likely moderate. I have very little self-control when in the moment and when it is probably more prudent to take a few steps back. I do angry so well it scares me, I know how to hit those weak points. I’m immature and restless and refuse to conform to adulthood. I throw caution out the fucking window and recklessly jump into spur of the moment choices with both feet. I have debts, both financially and with karma. some that I can’t imagine ever repaying. I burp and swear and am quite crass at times. I don’t know how to let someone completely in.

but I know this. I know I am flawed. and I do my best to keep it in check. and when I inevitably fuck up I am the first to admit it and do everything I can to make up for it.

25. 10 ways to win my heart.

1. don’t be a douchenozzle judgey mcgee bigot.
2. don’t take advantage of people or treat others poorly, myself included.
3. don’t expect me to fit into society’s little box of norms. my ass is too big for it.
4. don’t expect me to be an arm trophy. I will happily dissappoint.
5. don’t be dishonest. to me or yourself. always speak truth even when it fucking sucks.
6. do know how to be silly, enjoy the little things, have fun and be passionate.
7. do live life to the fullest and mostest. no holding back, experience as much as you can.
8. do be open to trying new things, weird things, lame things, nerdy things, exciting things, kinky things.
9. do like movies, books and boardgames. MUST like dogs.
10. do understand I dress up in costumes, often involving capes. I also am a zombie lusting after brains once a year. I may drag you to sci-fi and comicon conventions. and I go apeshit at Halloween. you’ve been warned.

(repost by request because I accidentally deleted the original, so here it is as best I remember it)

11. Your current relationship. If single, discuss how single life is.

I’m currently single. Let’s discuss shall we?

I’ve always been very comfortable and content while being single. Often, I have actually preferred to be. I don’t understand the inability to be happy unless one has a significant other. If you are not happy on your own than how can you expect to be happy in a relationship with someone? That a lot of pressure you are putting on that your partner and the success of the relationship. It is almost always a recipe for disappointment and disaster.

I admit, I do sometimes jones for those clichéd moments like holding hands and cuddling on a couch watching terribly bad movies, feeling their hand graze the small of my back and forhead kisses, neck nibbles and lip bites, exploring sex with someone you are familiar and comfortable with and afternoon brunches where you know what they are thinking just by glances across the table. But in all honesty, right now those moments of missing that are fleeting and few and far between. my mojo is currently m.i.a.

It takes a lot for me to want to be in a relationship with someone. As in a monogamous serious relationship not just dating and casual fun (which is all good and I am all for too). If I am going to be in a relationship with you I am letting you in and giving you all of myself and that is scary. It is hard for me to fully let go and trust someone, especially of late after some pretty bad experiences. Some because I didn’t have the wherewithal to walk away sooner, some because I foolishly hoped for more and some because I believed it was real when it so very much wasn’t. So, I may kind of be one of those stereo-typical baggage-toting types at the moment. I’m working on that I promise.

I don’t feel ostercized, defined, limited or any less of a person because I am single. I am content with my life and I am having fun living it. Maybe, someday, I will meet someone who can keep up with me, lives life to the fullest and mostest and jumps in to new adventures balls deep. and then maybe, someday, they might get the chance to be balls deep in me. eh-oh zing! ha.

17. Things that make you scared.

I have an irrational phobia of sharks. As in if I can’t see the bottom of any body of water I am prone to freaking the fuck out. This is a result of having seen Jaws at the age of 3 and is the source of much amusement for my friends especially when it happens at a cottage freshwater lake. It has gotten marginally better over the last few years, I’m trying to overcome it because I know how ridiculous it is.

My other fear is of hypodermic needles. That also used to be a phobia, one so bad I often had to breathe into a paper bag because I would hyperventilate and once projectile vomited all over my doctor because I was so nervous. But with all the tests and such that I had to do over the last year I’ve gotten much better at them. I still abhor having blood taken and any needles stuck into the top of my hand, crook of my elbow or gums. Upper arm and butt shots are cool though.

Besides that I am not scared of much else, really… Except that anything bad happen to someone I love or that I can’t still protect my little sister (who is a grown ass woman and tough as nails).

If I stop lying to myself, I’d admit that I am scared to completely let go and love someone without holding a little well-protected piece of me back for self preservation. But I can rationalize that “fear” away with a million excuses.

16. 3 things you are proud of about your personality.

I’m not sure that “proud” is the word I’d use regarding my personality traits… it sounds odd, no?

1 - I am glad that I am a sociable person. I can relate easily to others and don’t balk at making conversation with strangers to get to know them better. I know how to adapt to social settings and rarely feel awkward or suffer from social anxiety. This enables me to be comfortable in almost any environment, make new friends quickly, and rock interviews. I’ve been able to meet so many incredible people because of this. It’s one good skill I gained by growing up on a military base where people come and go so often.

2 - I feel lucky that I am strong. I don’t mean physically, I mean mentally. I can be strong-willed and focused and determined when I need to be. This has gotten me through many times where, if I weren’t, I’d be so badly broken. It has also enabled me to be there for my friends when they are falling apart and the person in my family that they usually come to for support. It has helped me cope and move past pain and kept me picking myself up whenever shit hit the fan. To a certain degree I may bottle a lot of shit up, but it works for me, it keeps me going.

3 - I am beyond relieved that I am open-minded and have the wherewithal not to be ignorantly obtuse or have a narrow-minded view of the world. That I am informed and educated on pertinent and pressing world issues outside of this first-world bubble we live in. That I hope and strive for equal rights, in life and love, for everyone regardless of race, gender or belief system. That I am not restricted to a conformed point of view and have the balls to live outside of the restricted oppressive little box that society often tries to stick me in.

I’m 5’10”.

6’1” in heels.

I almost never wear heels.

If I played a drinking game based on everytime someone’s said “wow, you’re tall”, “how tall are you?”, “did you know that you’re tall?”, “you’re intimidating”… I’d pretty much just have to mainline that shit into my veins.

being tall is great for intimidating douchebags and giving the downward side-eye, not so great for dating.

also clothes. pants and sleeves in particular. worst.

5. 5 things that irritate you about the opposite sex/same sex.

this is kind of ridiculous since anything that irritates me is pretty much the rule for any gender, so here are my combined top 10 for all people, regardless of gender, in no particular order:

1. cheating
2. lying/dishonesty
3. sometime-ish friends
4. ignorance/obtusity
5. slow walkers
6. open-mouth chewers
7. backstabbing
8. judgey mcgees
9. passive-aggressiveness
10. people who miss the freaking toilet and make a mess all over the seat/floor

this city that was so new, that inspired so much promise.
was my absolute escape but became a prison of memories I don’t need. I have loved and hated it, it handled me roughly. I had to grow up fast here and learn loss and heartbreak and the bitter taste of regret.
I swung from being blindly happy to dark unhappiness and often almost gave up on it. it shook me out of my illusions and opened my eyes to brutal truths. it gave me friends that I am eternally grateful for and lovers who I am stronger and better off without.
I hate admitting that it made me weak too, distrustful and wary, building up walls. I got caught up in its soulsucking ratrace that squashed my creativity, passions and made me defeated, resigned.
but it also gave me independence and strength and confidence in myself. I may be addicted to it, that undercurrent of inspiring energy and fun that you can only find after you scratch it’s under its tough surface. I fell in love with its secret areas, like those little spots on my neck that give me goosebumps and shivers when kissed.
it became a precarious balance… love hate love hate. but for some reason I always stayed.
I tried to flesh out my life here, I fought and hoped and tried and tried and it left me exhausted. I’m just. so. tired.
what this city gave me is invaluable but those lessons came with heavy scars.
I’m proud of them.
but I want more than this. I deserve more.
so I’m leaving this city I love and then hate and yet love even harder.
it’s not easy though. it’s a lot more difficult than I expected.

I got dumped about a month ago. didn’t see it coming. maybe I should have but all the right things were being said and done. I let myself believe it. I really thought this was it. he finally admitted he didn’t. I felt foolish. lesson learned? never to just blissfully and blindly believe. to tread carefully and cautiously always.

I just heard from my dr again. those annoying jerkface abnormal cells they keep trying to remove keep coming back. they are going to try removing them with lasers this time before resorting to the serious stuff treatments. sans anaesthetic. awesome. the entire time they will be doing the procedure I’m going to hum the Star Wars theme song and make “pew pew pew” noises.

I’ve made a huge life change decision. but I have hesitated to share this. mostly because I didn’t want it to seem like I was running away from everything. instead, I have been offered an incredible opportunity, one I would never get here. so I decided to take it. maybe I am running away a little bit. but I feel like I am escaping from this rut I am in.

I have been offered a tattoo apprenticeship and I am moving to Montreal.

I. am. so. fucking. stoked.

My time in Toronto is done. I have tried several times here… to feel inspired, jobs, relationships, to be happy. and It’s time for me to move on. start with a clean slate. I did a lot of growing up here and struggled and I am done. now this city mostly holds memories I’d rather just forget. it is scary and I am sad because I do love parts of this city, it has been my home for 12 years. but most of all I will miss my friends that I am leaving behind. that will be the hardest part.

I am excited and scared and happy and sad and all of this has been clouding my head and has made me super emotional of late…

but I am going and I feel good.

I do not like getting flowers. you just gave me a dead thing. it is just going to get uglier and make a mess as it decays. if you really feel the inexplicable urge to give me some flora make it a potted flower or plant. at least then it will just grow and get nicer.

then again, I have the opposite of a green thumb. I kill plants so fast I’m like the Dexter of gardening. so maybe give me a cactus.

I’ll kill that too though.

I also dislike diamonds. mostly because of the unethical ways they are harvested. and to be honest I think they are boring… no colour, no warmth.

I hate passive-aggressiveness. there is no quicker way to make me dislike someone, I do not tolerate that bullshit at all. speak your mind or gtfo I won’t play at silly little games.

I really like M*A*S*H and it’s on the History Channel right now.

I have to learn to accept that I can not change how people choose to act… make them try, make them care, make them understand, make them give back, make them happy. I always keep trying though because I also feel guilty for giving up.

I’m not a cat person. I don’t dislike them but I don’t love them either. I am ambivalent… largely based on the actual cat I am dealing with. I have had cats as pets, I have loved cats but I am definitely not a cat person.

I have not had an easy life. I have also not had a bad life. I am aware of both these facts. this enables me to appreciate what I do have but also makes me cynical and hesitant to fully embrace feeling content. I have seen, experienced and survived… I will continue to do so.

it’s ok to be happy and you don’t have to feel guilty about it. no one should make you feel guilty for being happy either.

I am happiest doing the simplest and silliest of things in life. or reading a book. or drawing. or dressing up for Halloween. or eating brunch.

you may think you know me but you really don’t. you don’t know everything I have gone through, I still keep parts of me to myself. it is foolish to assume you know better.

I am the most out of shape I have been in over 8 years. this is going to change as of now.

I really miss having a laptop.

that is all.

- there is nothing in this world that smells as good as BBQ.

- my best friend is one of the smartest people I have ever met, when kdog decides to pick up something or learn about something she completely absorbs and retains that information until she is a pro at it… I envy that. She’s also one of the most hilarious people I’ve ever met

- I have two friends who swear up and down that walnut trees smell weird, although one claims they smell like cum and the other says it smells like period

- I have gross friends

- I hate wearing bras. I often do not wear bras… like now. I really should wear bras. these boobs were not made for walking

- sometimes my dog smells like Doritos and then I get hungry for chips

- when I tell people my age they always give me the “get the fuck out of here” look - I really like swearing. but I keep it classy

- I haven’t had cheese in almost a week. I’m having withdrawal symptoms.

- Mosquitos love me. I hate them

- I like the smell of campfire in my hair

- I am a perv

- I get to see the Black Keys on thurs! I’m lucky that I bought the tickets before I lost my job and went broke

- drea88 is treating me to a weekend away in the boonies and beaches… did I mention I have rad friends?

- I am going to be ok… I just had a panic moment yesterday

- Cheez Whiz is disgusting it tastes like toe jam

- I miss eating bacon

- I fucking love my dog but goddamn her farts are potent

- this post is like blog diarrhoea