Mid-life WTF!

So for the last few months, since I’ve been back from visiting my crazy ass family I have been in a Idon’tknowwhattodowithmylifeIthinkI’llgoeatworms kind of feeling. This is feeling is uncool in my book and I’m dying to rip these pages out, the only problem with that though is I have to figure out why I am feeling this way. And that my friends is a problem because I have no fucking clue why when I wake up every morning I feel like drop kicking my stuffies off my balcony and eating Lego men. Also, around noon I want to chew my hair while my cat licks her balls and before I go to bed I get cravings of quail, prune juice and Mad Men.

NO I’M NOT PREGNANT! But someone please tell me what the fuck is wrong with me. No doctors are needed for this diagnosis.

Now, let me tell you there are a few things I suspect.

BC: Every other year or so I run out of my birth control and go off it for a couple months. I started this because I would forget my prescription ended and would procrastinate the visit to the doctors because I would be sitting on my ass for two hours only for a prescription that neither I nor the pharmacist can read anyways. So in January I ran out, OOPSIES! Decided to not laze about this time and got my shit together in February.

I did notice when I was off birth control my period punched the shit out of my ovaries. My river was flowing for days and days. Usually with the help of my best friend Yasmin the river lightly flowed for two days and my ovaries were alive after the ordeal.

Being on and the off birth control in a short amount of time made me think that it could perhaps be why I am feeling so melancholy. I’ve been moody as fuck since I’ve been back to Vancouver. I’m telling you, so far this PMS has lasted 3 months and that is coming for a gal who never goes through moody PMS.

Menopause: Thought crossed my mind and left. I’m too young for menopause ain’t nobody Imagegot time for that!

Body: I work out and hard for the body I got. Five days a week I’m in the gym or at the pool and I love it. My body is in better condition than it was when I was a dancer. I’m eating healthier, I look better, the only thing that slaps my gut around is the alcohol. I’ve cut down a lot with only a few blowouts every few months, but after nights of hard partying from downing brewskies, not only am I hung over as fuck but I’m still cut. This I know, is something that needs to change and I will get there, after I finish this delicious Pina Colada.

Work: I recently realized how much I hate working. I love having money, but working is just a mother fucking bummer. My current place of work is filled with negative energy daily and it’s sucking the life out of my every being. At least every other day I work, my balls are metaphorically being sacked by a gypsy and her brood of tater-tots. I love them, don’t get me wrong, but I feel my patience is wearing thin. It is at the point where I’d almost rather be the person who cleans shitters for a living and gives retirees sponges baths than monitor monkeys while they fling their shit at me.

I do feel positive energy, but I get that from from my other sources of employment. They excite me, energize me and motivate me. 

Confused? I’ll fucking say.

Relationship: I have been with my man for a long time, (July 6th will be 5 years), sometimes I question if it’s too long, sometimes I question if it’s not long enough and I wish I could fast forward life ten years from now. He’s 5 years older than I, which we established is a good thing. He doesn’t want marriage, which is fine, I can do without it. (I can’t justify spending endless amounts of money on one day of celebration, so this idea of not getting married keeps my wallet thick and a thick wallet makes me happy.)

However having kids one day would be amazing.I love being the crazy auntie from out west that spoils her nieces and nephews, so having a herd of my own would be killer! Not now, not within five years, but after my 31st birthday I’d love to start spouting out kidlets. Right now, my man is not wanting his own little juniors running around, which is fine, but I worry he may always feel this way. There is a part of me that is thinking fingers crossed and maybe he’ll change (which is stupid), there is a part of me that is saying I won’t ever have kids and should just accept it now, and there is a part of me that’s saying I’m thinking too much about the whole thing and there is a part saying when the time comes deal with it then.

Mid-Life: Is this a pre-mid-life crisis? I’m only twenty-five still young and alive, and yet shit just keeps getting flung my way. I know it’s good to sit in the shit a bit, but i’ve been sitting in it for far to long.

So my friends, I ask you what is wrong with me. While you ponder this question and while I too ponder, I think I’ll go to church and rewrite psalms.


My Future Man Candy and Offspring.

When I have a family of my own, as in a man and some kidlets, and maybe a cat or some furry shitter, my hopes are it will be just the way I imagine it.

ImageLet’s start with the main man.

He’s cool, calm and collected, but not as cool as me. He’ll be able to laugh and smile, but not jolly, fuck jolly.  Being happy and laid back is what I am all about, I’m not saying I want a man hooked on uppers and anti-depressants who doesn’t give a fuck who the baby’s daddy is, but he just can’t be so stone cold serious. I slap those fuckers, and I slap like man, bitch!

I would like my man to be huggable, you know? Like a teddy bear, but not furry (body hair limited please.) BONUS if he has a treasure trail! (if you don’t know what that is you are out of the running), I love to find the treasure!!!

He will be the money maker. Now this is something I have struggled deciding. You see, I always pictured myself as the bread winner. I like my independence and not having to depend on other people financially, HOWEVER! I think my weekly dosage of housewives has made me to think differently. BUT, if Hollywood is calling my name, I’m all game for the bread!Image

He will cook! This is a must, I don’t care if he’s a dirty, little, ass wipe,  who doesn’t clean the fuck up, as long as he cooks me a great meal and feeds my belly, I’m happy. (Note: Must do his own laundry, I don’t want to be wiping skiddys that are not mine with a loofa).

He will be great with the kids, may not spend so much time with them because ideally he will be working all the time. But when he is home he spends it with his kids, friends and family.

Must be a MAN! And I don’t mean have a penis (please remember husband, your penis is mine). I don’t want to hear your sappy stories, don’t write me love songs, or fan me with a giant leaf (though definite BJ’s would be in order if you did so-once in awhile). Be a fucking man! Drink beer, fart (I fart a lot so eat your fibre), play poker, watch the game with the boys and all that manly shit. Hey I may even let your slap me around a little, just to up your “macho-ness!”  If I catch your ass reading Nicholas Sparks and tear jerking, you will be out on the curb with your fanny pack and loafers, you FAG! If you start playing for the same team as me, you are out of your league.

Lets move on to my offspring! Ideally, 3-4 kids.

Oldest- A boy named James, or something with a J. Jake, Jasper, Jeremiah, Johnny etc. Well rounded and succeeds in everything, I’m talking school valedictorian, team captain, and a true gentlemen. I raised this pansy well. After the first two, I started to slack off.

ImageMiddleman- The letter T comes to mind, Teddy, Thomas, Theo, etc. It wouldn’t really matter what his first name is because all his class mates would call him by his last name anyways. The family athlete! Why? Because he’s dumb as fuck and sports is all he has going for him. Sometimes, I wonder if the doctors are wrong and he actually does have a mild form of autism. I also contemplate if I should have named him Boz and he should mingle with his best friend/cousin Moonbeam (a downy) down the street. They could have stayed in the same church group so he would be among his people. But this is a thought I keep to myself, until I am on my death bed dying of alcohol poisoning from a night of swimming in a beer flood at the ripe old age of 70.

Ponyboy- Named Benjamin. More introverted, but funny as hell. He plays video games and is into the latest technology. Loves the old stuff and I mean the good old stuff, records, old films, he is a very retro style kind of kid. Has killer taste in music (I past this trait onto him). He is incredibly smart, and a total cheapskate. Very money conscious, reasons I suspect he is a Jew.

ImageNow if I have a fourth child it will be a girl. Her name will end in A like, Nyla, Mia, Fiona, Lita, Mina, I don’t mind if it sounds like a midnight flower  stripper name. She will be the baby of the family and everybody, but me will see her that way. Her big brothers will do anything for her. She will be how I was as a child, bubbly, talkative, maybe a yodeler or something.

We’ll have one big ass mother fucking dog! He’ll outlive my man.

All my kidlets will be well-manners, but will have their little rebellious moments. We will eat dinners at the table together, we will play board games (but only on Friday nights with some pizza) and when they are old they will reminisce about the moments mom and dad embarrassed the shit out of them on purpose.

I cannot wait! If I read this 10 years from now and my family is not like this I will definitely be mail ordering some babies my way.

(Please note: Some things I may have said in this blog may be offensive. If they were personally offensive to you I would just like to say, man the fuck up and deal with it. I would also like to say, I am not racist or homophobic or a Jew, just straight up honest. BONG!)

I’m Happiest When…

  1. …you hi-five me
  2. …cuddling with my cat
  3. …I don’t take life to seriously
  4. …you like my legs
  5. …playing video games, but still have a life
  6. …eating strawberry cheesecakeImage
  7. …working out
  8. …reading
  9. …dancing
  10. …at the gym
  11. …having personal training
  12. …writing
  13. …in Ontario with the family
  14. …at the beach
  15. …I’m among friends
  16. …I’m surrounding by men
  17. …I’m in the sun
  18. …drinking green tea
  19. …I’m not working at all on a work week
  20. …I’m sleeping
  21. …I’m around my niece and nephew
  22. …I’m travelling around the city
  23. …I’m by myself
  24. …swimming
  25. …I’m looking at old photos
  26. … watching great fucking movies
  27. … I see reactions to the gifts I’ve given
  28. … I am being massaged.
  29. …I let one rip or burp and no one hears it 
  30. … I have no worries and cares, for the moment
  31. …I’m with my grandma
  32. …I make someone else laugh
  33. …my beer is delivered to me cold and openImage
  34. …I’m in BC
  35. …I’m hiking in the woods
  36. …I’m shopping
  37. … doing yoga
  38. … painting
  39. …cracking wise with good people
  40. …stretching
  41. …on Granville Island
  42. …floating in the water
  43. …dining by the beach
  44. …having a picnic
  45. …eating seafood
  46. …in Wiarton
  47. …playing board games
  48. …wearing high heels
  49. …I’m with my girlfriends
  50. …I’m with the love of my life

One DAM Night!

First off, before I tell you about my night on Saturday, March 2nd, at the Giggle Dam, let me get something off my chest. Who the fuck calls a place the Giggle Dam? Honestly, it sounds like something I put up tight in my gash to prevent accidents. (Yes, my cunt laughs). Another thing, giggle is such a funny word. Giggle. Alright, I’m done, that’s all I had.

So for those of you who don’t know the Giggle Dam is dinner theatre, more specifically comedy dinner theatre. Now, I have been to my fair share of dinner theatres, I’ve been to murder mysteries, musicals and they are very much a 50/50 thing. Some are pretty ‘neat’, others suck balls. This one was ‘meh’, but enjoyable nonetheless. Now, it’s usually hard for me to enjoy shows, mainly because I have done theatre and currently act in and around Vancouver, (knowing the ins and outs of the business can sometimes demolish the surprise). 

When I attend dinner theatre, my heart instantly goes out to the actors, whether they want it or not. Man, do I feel sorry for those suckers. That is the one place I do not ever want to end up with my acting career, I would rather work at a Denny’s before I hit the dinner theatre. (Please keep in mind this is matter of opinion, also keep in mind my opinion matters). I’m sure the actors enjoy themselves there, it at least seems like they do, which is a good sign (for them).  For me, not my thing, I’ll go there to watch, to eat and not pay for a ticket, but that is the most involvement I want in dinner theatre.

The theme for that night’s show was 8o’s, that’s cool, I dig, although I think 80’s have been over done. When we enter the theatre we are assigned seats, because my boyfriend and I were there, along with his family to celebrate his dad’s birthday we sat very close to the stage. (Always a bonus).

They have their appetizer out already waiting for us on the table. I did not eat it, nor did my boyfriend’s sister, which was somewhat funny because it was probably the most healthiest appetizer I had ever seen with tomatoes, cheese and green stuff(also known as salad). Instead we fed it to our arm candy, which they ate no problemo.

While the audience was still settling in, the actors were dressed in 80’s attire. Oh before I forgot to mention, “Ozzy Ozbourne” was also there. Now, if I were these actors I would do two things before the show: do a line of coke or be drunk as fuck (especially since it was the finale show). I did not see evidence of any of these actors doing this, for that, I applaud them greatly.

Once the audience has arrived and the doors to the theatre are closed the show begins. The host comes out, English accent (fake), punk/rock rocker kind of vibe going on, tank, leather, mullet wig etc. He cracks wise, kind of funny, introduces the other actors, the sounds guys, makes some announcements and the show officially, officially begins.

Now call me cunt if you wish, but I do not think the sounds operators and backstage hand need to be mentioned. Who the fuck cares, but the actors anyways? I know I fucking don’t, especially as an audience member. Yes, they work hard, and their work is quite tedious and they need to be on the ball for the show to run through smoothly, HOWEVER! It completely ruins the element of surprise for the audience. This also goes to when the thank yous and the curtain call are happening. The audience does not care for the back stage crew, just the actors. WHY?! Because that’s all we fucking see and that is all that matters for us. We don’t pay money to see a stage hand work! Think about it! If my future offspring becomes a stage hand and asks me to attend the show, I would say fuck no! Unless of course there is full frontal nudity involved with the actors (not the stage crew).

So anyways, we order our food, and have our main courses set. The actors are performing cute, nostalgic skits, some comedy involved. Now one thing I commend dinner theatres for, is their involvement with the audience. Most of the stuff they do is in fact improv because they revolve their skits around the audience, and there is a different audience every night. This part is awesome and I definitely enjoy it!

Because it was my father in law’s birthday, (along with many other people who I don’t care about), he was selected to be in the show! AWESOME! Michael Jackson, SHUT THE FRONT DOOR!  He was dressed up as the King of Pop and was absolutely hilarious! I dribbled in my pants for sure, I was laughing so hard.

They did quite a bit of singing too. Didn’t really enjoy it so much, if I wanted to watch singers I’d go to a concert with people who can actually sing. I mean, these actors had voices for sure, and could definitely hum a tune, but fuck, just stick to the comedy.

All in all, a good night! It was long, but the food was alright, the skits were alright, but being in good company is what made it fun!

Giggle Dam, you are alright in my books.

(3 WAYS) To Tone The Trouble Zones

First off, I would like to say, I am not a Personal Trainer, Fitness Instructor, nor am I academically educated in fitness. That being said: I think I know my shit pretty well, so here are some of my tips for toning those trouble zones.girl-squats-bar

Squat: This is where I call toning your trouble zone, toning your bone zone. When in doubt, squat! This sexy little move, tones your glutes and thighs and my oh my she fucking works. Put your feet about hip-width apart, lower down and up, shifting the weight on your heels (don’t allow you knee pass your toes). Make sure to keep you chest up, stick your bum out, back straight. You can use weights, or resistance bands or just your body weight, it doesn’t fucking matter what you use.

YOU WILL SEE RESULTS and fast! I squat everywhere and as often as I can, I
squat in the washroom when shaking the piss out or shitting (why do you think they call it Pop a Squat), when it’s cold out I squat to warm up, sometimes when the bench is taken at the bus stop I squat beside the bench I’m that squatting crazy. Get rid of the mush, by squatting your tush!

Chest Press: Now, there are quite a few ways to do this one. This sly move tones your chest and triceps and boy does it make your boobies perky and strong! Depending on your strength and please fitness friends do not kid yourself, use light to medium to heavy weights. I use 5lbs right now, and working myself up to the 8lbsers. I prefer lying on the ground, while doing the chest press, I find it keeps my body in line, and arms in proper form.

chest-press-1-0801-fbLie face up, knees bent (if you prefer, I know I do), while holding weights in both hands, straighten your arms and then bend until your elbows and triceps touch the ground. Continue this motion of lifting. I do, about 20 reps/3sets.

If you would like some extra resistance try using a resistance band.  Either have some hold the back of the resistance band, or wrap it around a pole or pillar. 1001-chest-press(Something sturdy or your ass will go flying). Although you will be standing for this one, it is similar to lying on the ground, you will push your arms forward from your chest and retract back. Make sure your elbows do not go past your back.

Crunches: What lady doesn’t like a nice flat stomach with some definition? I know I do. I absolutely love crunches and despite what people may say, I believe they are one of the best ways to earn those abs. And please do not use, the ab machines, I’m sure they work, but I guess I’m just more old school. Crunch, side ways, arms up, with weights, resistance bands, just crunch the fuck up! I go mad house for them everyday and you should too! I’m not going to tell you how to crunch because if you don’t know how, you are dead to me.woman-crunch-300x198

Now, please keep in mind, these are just three very effective ways to tone your body up and make it all sexy like. Again, I will re-iterate I am not a fitness expert by any means, but a fitness fanatic I am. Workout, work hard and the results you see will be worth it!


Just Keep Swimming!

Tuesday, February 26th, approximately 7:00 PM.

One of my endeavors I’ve been currently implementing into my life for 2013 is swimming laps on a weekly basis. Being fitness focused, I figured the more different workouts I do, the more diverse my body will become, as well as the more, toned and firm. (And ladies them boys like it that way).

The great thing about swimming laps, is can you go at your own pace, choosing the lane that best suits you. The unfortunate thing about the pool I go to is they have their fast lanes and moderate, no in between, which means I have the choice of what I like to call the hardcore butterfliers and the short bus lane, I’m on the short bus in this case. Being in this special lane, means that there will be some, ‘slow’er people swimming, and some ‘normal’ swimmers, like ME!

On this night, I was in a lane with two large females. These large females were not related (I realized that night that not all fat people are related), they were not social buddies or co-workers or nothing. There was no relation between them whatsoever. One of these ladies, (who I will call Marge), literally swam in the middle of the not so big lane. Every time I would pass her, she would rumpus me over to the lane divider. Not cool, Marge! Definitely not cool! The other lady, (let us call her the FurBurgler), would swim a lap every 5-10 minutes, waiting and watching at the end of the lanes. Every time I finished a lap she would smile, throw out some positive words of encouragement and continue being a bump in the lane. Image(FYI FurBurgler, I get my dosage of Dr. Phil I do not need your words of encouragement).

After my laps, I venture to the sauna, and already in the sauna was FurBurgler. Not biggy. She smiled at me, and using my peripherals I chose to sit next to the sack of old men. Keeping my distance from this whale of a woman, I closed my eyes most of the time to avoid eye contact with her whatsoever. Eventually, I stroke up a conversation with some of the old fucks and she left shortly after.

After the sauna, I ventured to the hot tub. No FurBurgler was found. Cool.

As I headed into the change rooms, I saw Furburgler in the showers, still wearing her bathing suit. I walked passed as quickly as I could to go open my locker, grab my soap on a rope and conditioner and headed for the showers. (I was not excited at this point). There were no other people in the showers, but FurBurgler and myself. Now, I am one of the people that does not get full on naked in the showers in public; I don’t do those nudey shows. I have no issues with other people getting naked, but it quite simply ain’t my thing, I may time to time show my boobies, but that’s because they are perky and I like them.


I’m in the shower. FurBurgler, is across from me, smiling (CREEP!) She slowly takes off her swimsuit, I look away and puke in my mouth. GROSS! The last thing I want to see is some fat ladies raison cleft and Danny Devitos. I finish, quickly!!!

I head back to my locker, which is way on the other side of the change room. I start to pull my clothes out, take off my swimsuit, yadda yadda, and who comes around the corner, but big old fat! FURBURGLER! She has a whole bag of her clothes and what have you, apparently it was so busy where her locker was, she decided that this aisle of lockers there would be nobody. WRONG! You rug muncher! I’m here! I’m fucking here! Of course, I did not say this out loud, but inside I was freaking out. Be cool Cait, be calm. I asked myself what a buddy of mine would do….ya don’t ever do that FYI it will be the wrong fucking answer.

FurBurgler tries to make small talk with me; I just nod or shake my head, avoiding eye contact, one word answers.

FurBurgler: Do you come here often?

Me: No.

FurBurgler: I like your swimsuit, where did you get it?

Me: The store.

FurBurgler: I love it here! So many people, the girls here are nice.

Me: (No answer.)

FurBurgler: I forgot my moisturizer, can I borrow yours?

Me: (I slide it over, no answer).

FurBurgler: I like your boots!

Me: Me too.

FurBurgler: Where did you get them?

Me: The store.

This pretty much sums up one of the most awkward conversations of my life. To add to this awkwardness, FurBurgler would do things like, take her bra off and on, keep looking over, totally checking me out I know it! I won’t lie I figure if this lip licker is into me, I’ll give her a little show. So I exposed my breasts, naturally! And as I did that she took off her pants, which was weird, really fucking weird. So I put my top on super fast! My gayder was bleeping, going completely haywire. I’M OUT!

I packed up my shit, and left.Image

I would just like to say, I am not homophobic. I am also not gay. Therefore, if a gay person hits on me, I’m not cool with that. LES BE HONEST HERE! Don’t look at me, don’t touch me, don’t be all lesbian on me. I went through that phase, I tried the Clam Chowder and I didn’t like it, that part of me died. It’s dead. Gone. Te-nush!

The big question: will I be swimming laps again? Yes, but I’m thinking maybe the short bus lane isn’t for me anymore.

Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming.


ImageThis is Olive!ImageShe is my bestest friend in the whole world.

ImageShe always has my back.

ImageShe is always by my side.

ImageLaundry overwhelms her.

ImageShe is a bit of a tool, but that is okay.

ImageCall of Duty is our bitch, she’ll never leave me Left for Dead.

dumb fuck

She gonna cat-dumb-fuck you up!

ImageShe gets into shit. Legit!

ImageSometimes I think she might have Down Syndrome.


But then I realize, she just be crazy!


And she be lazy as fuck.


She wakes us up with no eggs or bakey, she is an alarm clock in the making.


She gets balls deep in comfort.



And sometimes she is just balls deep.

photo bombs

She photo bombs all my photos!

pipes 068

She is a tank!


She is epic, for no reason.


She loves PIZZA!


And sandwiches too!


She has mastered the selfie!


She has great taste in music.


Grooms herself well.


She is a stone-cold killa!


She thinks she is a ninja, but really she is just a creeper.


She loves to cuddle the fuck out of people.


She is often deep in thought.

space ship

She thinks she can fly, but I don’t tell her else wise.

whole new world

She is always seeking adventure.


She flaunts what she gots.


Together, our guild is growing strong!


I love her so much!


This is Olive.