Waterproof Make Up is Overrated

Folks, waterproof make up is overrated. This past week has put it to the test, and it failed miserably. Alright, now I’ll fess up with how I know this.

Last year was very up and down for me, I had my good days, I had my bad days and towards the end of the year most of my days were good days. So good they were wonderful. I was branching out with different career opportunities, I wasn’t partying nearly as much, Barrie and I were meeting lots of canine friends, and my ‘not’ relationship was finding itself again.

But I don’t know what happened. It was like 2017 smacked the side of my head and said hey there little lady….new year, same you, you sad sack of shit…. (Insert sad/annoyed emoji). Since January, I’ve been nothing but overthinking, and feeling. And ya’ll know I strongly dislike the idea of feeling, having feelings, caring for things etc. And overthinking brings on anxiety, and anxiety brings on thoughts that may or may not be true, which brings on more anxiety because I don’t know whether they are or not, which brings on sadness and utter defeat. I lose.

I’m not keeping track but I’ve probably cried at least 3 to 4 times a day, everyday since the new year. In the morning I cry, on my way to work I cry (sometimes at work I cry), my drive from work I cry and in bed I cry. I cry, I cry, I cry, like a big baby. I can’t control it. I’ve cried so much I am surprised my tear ducts haven’t dried up. Part of me thinks all this waterworks stuff has to do with me not crying or even having actual feelings for years and years. I was ‘dead’ inside then, now I am alive and it is so not worth it. Not even in the least bit.

I don’t want to be awake. Mostly I don’t want to be awake when I am alone. It’s a sad place to be. Don’t be alarmed, this is not to say I don’t want to exist, but I would rather be sleeping, just get lost in some sort of Slumberland, where I am not a depressed individual. Instead, I am Cait The Lovely! Who rides a unicorn and has a cotton candy bed!!! Unfortunately reality doesn’t allow for such pleasures.

sadpandaLately I have been leaving my house early for work. Sometimes 2 to 3 hours before work. I leave early because I don’t want to be home. I then find a place to grab a coffee, which I may or may not drink, and I drive around. Driving used to make me feel better. In some truth it still does. But I cry folks, I cry and cry and cry and before I know it I look like a panda. Mascara and eyeliner down my face, perhaps I look more like a sad mime, a disgruntled Beetlejuice, Morticia Addams, one of the Kardashians. Fuck, I don’t know, what ever I look like, well I am sure there is a meme out there somewhere for it.

I’m losing myself friends, I’m drowning in tears that are surely falling for ridiculous reasons. I’m lost in all this sappy and mushy shit. Emotions are exhausting, feelings are suffocating, and when they are placed inside my used-to-be hollow self… … …well, maybe I just shouldn’t wear make up anymore.

Advertisements

Ode To My Shower

Friends, I must let you in on a little secret. Well, fuck… whether it’s a secret or not doesn’t really matter, but ANYWAYS!

So as you guys know, I haven’t been the happiest camper the last while or so. I’ve been riding this wave of depression and severe anxiety for quite some time. Often, when sleeping doesn’t work, when being in the company of others fails to keep my mind occupied, I tend to take off all my clothes and run through the streets WE’RE GOING STREAKING!!! Ha! Only kidding folks, if only I had the gonads to do so.

Nah, what I usually do is put on some Whitney Houston, light a couple candles and hop in the shower….ALRIGHT, alright, this is bogus too. But I do jump in the shower and I often do sing ALL BY MYSELF!!!!!!!!!

For whatever reason I find comfort sitting in my shower, contemplating every possible thing I could ever contemplate. I often cry when I am in the shower, (I know big baby right.) I won’t even shampoo my hair, or shave or think to take advantage of my adjustable shower head (ladies you know what I mean). Instead, I just sit, cry, overthink, sometimes sing, write blogs in my head, overthink some more, cry some more, etc. etc.

The shower is comforting, the hot water soothes my body. Although I am all alone in a shower, butt-ass naked, sitting in the fetal position like a sad, little beefcake, I don’t feel so lonely. I just sit there, hot water tapping on me and before I know it, some time has gone by, and the water is now luke warm.

I go through phases. As mentioned before, I’ve riding this wave, and sometimes I land along the shore, sometimes I am pulled back out, perhaps in an undertow, I just never know, because I can’t control the ocean.

Lately, I’ve been having a lot of showers. Fack, my hydro bill is going to be huge!

Maybe it means I am psychotic. In fact, I would almost prefer to be psychotic, than be so melancholy all the time.

Today I had two showers. Which believe it or not,seeing as it was a day off for me I should have had about four. Towels flood my house, along with wet foot prints.

My shower is a calmness for me. It tames my love-sick feelings, it keeps my anxieties at bay, and although I still can tend to be sad while showering, my shower lets me. It wipes away my tears, and when I do choose to sing, the acoustics are…FAB U LOUS!!!

Shower, Thankyou.

Lady-Like

Alright friends, since my last few bloggy blogs have been nothing but sad, sad stories, I have decided to switch things up and be not so depressing. [however: the fact I am blogging at 2 in the morning, chiefing my peace pipe while watching Say Yes To The Dress is in fact incredibly sad news]

MOVING ON!

Tonight/today/this morning… whenever the fuck you decide to read this, I am here to give you all some lovely little lady-like advice. Those of you who know me, know I am quite the woman, but I certainly ain’t no lady. REGARDLESS! I am here, and I am willing and I am ready {Side Note: These are the words I said to the first man I slept with after my ex, and it was wet, wild and worth it!, granted I was on my knees wearing nipple pasties and an edible thong, but you get the idea].

  1. e551991c8f7d806c962b0c8069cb96f2Be straight-forward. Don’t be some pansey lil’ asshole that beats around the bush. You want something, take it, you want to say something, say it! Some fucker keeps hollaring at you and you ain’t interested, kick the clown in the fucking pecker and be done with it. No bullshit ladies! No fucking bullshit! Ain’t nobody got time for that, especially a lady.
  2. Honesty. If I ask you if you masturbate and you say no. You are a goddamn liar and certainly no lady. Be honest with yourself and others. It doesn’t mean we want to listen to your ETrue Hollywood Story (chances are we don’t and no one gives 2 shits about it), it means be HONEST.
  3. Leave a little mystery. You want men to say Who is this girl? I want to know more? Oh the things I would do! etc.etc. Trust me, mystery is key and the longer you keep it going the better. Sure, if you shacking up with some fellow over and over again, the mystery may fade, fuck the mystery could be over the first time you play anal acoustics, but alas leave a lil something something to keep those boys wanted more. (Side story: I totally was vibing this one guy and he was vibing me, and this had been something going on for quite awhile, when we finally did the deed. That was it, he was done with me, no mystery left in his mind. I was left with no respect and a sore vagina)
  4. Be short. Not as in pint-sized, but as in how you verbalize your thoughts. So for example: Him: Where were you last night? Me: Out. Him: Did you have fun? Me: Sure did. Him: Do you care to share? Me: Not really. Now I know this may feel like it’s coming off as a bit dickish, but it’s not, it’s lady-like. Why? Because you aren’t giving away to much and it’s no one’s business anyways. Plus, the moments you do decide to divulge a little more, they’ll either appreciate or not fucking listen.
  5. Never stay the night. NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER!!! Stay the night, don’t do it. That has been probably my number rule in life and in being lady-like. Now, I am definitely a sucker for morning sex, it’s totally my jam. I love waking up getting a nice, lazy shag going on and then bounce. HOWEVER, these moments needs to happen before the early birds make it for 5$ breakfast. Reasons for this: 1) After a night of whatever my make up and hair is no more as mint as it was prior to. Half the time, I resemble a sad panda already regretting past shenanigans. Not ideal, not sexy. not lady-like. 2) If you leave before him waking up he’ll either appreciate your kindness and will want to see more of you, or he will wish you stayed and still wants more of you. win/win.
  6. e14cd95a68c4bbe95d829d6b48715722 (1)Lingerie (spanx included). Always, have some lingerie floating around. I know I do. I have some on hand just in case. Men, love it. Even just having dudes know you have it around is good. Here’s why and I’ll explain this by sharing a little antidote in The Life of Cait. I once had a friend you was fuck buddy. One day he saw lingerie in my car, he inquired about it, and immediately I saw his eyes light up. But every time we  bumped naughty bits, I never wore it. UNTIL …..(drum roll please) ….one day, after countless games of hide the sausage I finally had it on and the look on his face, was fucking worth it. He went wild, that night we banged until the sun came up (may of broke my not spending the night rule). Lingerie ladies. L-I-N-G-E-R-I-E.
  7. Pay your own way. There is nothing worse than a thirsty bitch. No guy needs some cunt soaking up his hard earned $$$$$. Pay your own ladies. It really is that simple. When I go out I always pay my own. Once in a while, when then man I’m with takes a wiz, I’ll pay his too. It shows mutual respect, and whether we are a couple or not, he can always get me back next time. No biggy. Now, sure if I am out on a date, and he wants to pay, I’ll let him, but I always offer. (I GIVE, I GIVE, I GIVE!)
  8. Let a man feel like a man. Now, I am a huge fan of bringing a man down, but when I do, I build him up just so I can bring him back down all over again haha! KIDDING! Nah, I am not that rude. What I mean to say is, let the man you are with (whether your friend, boyfriend, or whatever) feel like what he is. A FUCKING MAN. Let him make the moves and let him lead the way. And if for whatever reason he can’t and he is struggling, guide him, but let never take the lead.
  9. Be free. Don’t let anyone, let alone a man tell you how to live your life. Do it your 26POP-master768way. My way is usually slagging it up at the local pub, but every lady has their own way of expressing their freedom. I choose free love man. FREE FUCKING LOVE!
  10. Own it! And owning shit involves a multitude of things. Whatever shape or size you are. Be proud girl, love yourself completely! You make a mistake, own up to it. Acknowledge your faults, it’s okay. Everybody has fucked up, don’t hide it. Be the first to say sorry if it comes down to it. You bought a dress a size off, wear that shit like no other (but return it the next day) haha.

Alright ladies. These are just a few tips to being a true lady (at least in my world). In the words of Storm Large “What the fuck is lady-like if ladies like to do the fuck they like”just like me!

Twice the taste, No Calories

Alrighty friendlies, I’ve been feeling a little deep lately. I know, I know, it’s very unlike me to get all emo and shit, but can you blame, I am a woman nearing her 30’s, with ovaries that cry once  a month. Seriously, if it were up to me I would rather have no feelings and punch my ovaries in the fucking face, but alas, I shall not.

This year, I have been slowly unraveling into one of two things: 1) A Crazy Person 2) An Open Book. Fuck, perhaps both man. I mean for one, my whole family is crazy so it is about time the cray cray bug bites me, and well, I have always been someone who is quite open, but very careful will what I choose to share with others.

So today, I will share a couple things that have been floating around in this big head of mine.

***

In highschool (fuck 11 years ago now?) I was a little more roly poly. In my family I was the ‘fat one’. I would be hounded by my siblings with fat jokes. Now here is the thing, I wasn’t by any means overweight. I was thick sure, but I played tons of sports and was a dancer.

In grade 9, I decided that the only time I’ll eat food was right after school and right after dance class (which usually ended around 10pm). I never, ate breakfast, as it always made me sick in the wee hours of the morning.This practice of mine was painful. I would be starving all through school, and as soon I was home I would eat, and eat and eat, as much as humanly possible and then head to ballet class. Now, to put this in perspective, school started around 8:45, ended around 3pm and my dance classes would start at around 4:15. So stupid Caitlin, would be cramming in any fucking thing she could in the span of 1 hour; Chips, sandwiches, KD, fruit, you name it!

I would go off to class, in a very tight body suite for 4 sometimes 5 hours, with all the shit I just ate swishing around in my stomach. SO.NOT.IDEAL.

Now, at this age I was also turning from a child into a semi-decent-older child. I began having curvy hips, my boobs were blossoming into an uncomfortable C Cup (C is for Caitlin), and stretch marks started to line my thighs and ass. Now, maybe for most females at this time, having titties and hips is exciting. The boys will finally come flocking wanting to catch a  nip slip, or slide in for a finger bang. But for me, a girl who wants to be a ballerina, this was unacceptable.

I already came to terms knowing my body type was not that of an ideal ballerina. I had thick,stocky legs, but I knew they were strong and I could fly off the floor with them, I had small feet, but they were able to endure pain like no other {Side note: I once danced a show with a nail completely stuck in my heel without realizing until the performance was over. #thuglife?}. I wasn’t very tall, but I could lift my legs hire and jump hire than my other fellow ballerinas. I was faced knowing I probably won’t make it as a ballerina based on my body, but if the companies saw passed this and looked at my skill, my technique, then maybe I could. Maybe, just maybe.

In order for me to speed up this process of possibly making it into a company. I decided that all the binge-eating I was doing, was not productive for my life goals, and so to balance it out I discovered……..wait…..for….it……the two-finger diet. (Ahem-bulimia).bulimia

Now, I didn’t start doing this until the last few years or so of high school. But I would go home eat like a fucking piglet, head to the studio, use the washroom to throw all the shit I just ate up and head to class.

Some of the other girls I think knew, but we were all in the same boat. We hated our bodies.

Towards graduation, I stopped. Like turning a light switch on and off. I applied to few universities. The one dance school I applied to I was denied. I wasn’t going to be a dancer. I was angry, I was sad, I was let face it PISSED RIGHT THE FUCK OFF. I couldn’t understand, I knew my body wasn’t that of a ballerina, but I tried to make it so it was. My technique was damn near flawless, my turn out was outstanding, my feet could take me across the floor like no other dancer. My references, were from well-known choreographers and prima ballerina’s. Now, yes I know this seems like I am building myself up way too much, but fuck I was straight up awesome what can I say?

In the letter I received. They regretted to inform me that I was not accepted into the School Of Which Will Not Be Named. They then followed with and now I don’t remember word for word, but it was something along the lines of: What makes a dancer, is not her arabesque. it is not her perfect turn out, nor her feet, but it is her passion. That was my problem, I was so concentrated on trying to make my body perfect, that I completely lost my passion. My eyes were dead in dance, the emotion I tried to convey in dances was forced and noticeably so.

So I stopped. I stopped dancing, I stopped throwing up, I stopped stuffing my face. I was accepted into SFU for Performance Theatre, moved out to BC at the age of 17 and pursued another path.

Now, being a freshman in university I certainly gained weight. I partied every weekend, I was eating unhealthy food, I was an insomniac, I drank coffee until the last drop, I was completely an utterly unhealthy in every possible way. You would have never guess I was a dancer, until I started to move and dance.

I would come home during the summers from university and would be a little bit bigger. I knew my family noticed, not everyone said something, but facial expressions say a lot. I hated myself all over again. However, I didn’t feel the urge to go back into old habits.

At some point during my years in university, I met someone and fell in love. L.O.V.E. Now, being still a young, stupid girl still in the party scene, and when you are working with a bunch of actors shit just gets weird. I made a mistake. We almost broke up. He wouldn’t talk to me for a couple weeks, and although we were ‘working on it’ I felt like I was loosing him. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t even drink. In the span of 2 weeks I went from 145-130, then from there on down to 112.

Went home for the summer to visit the family, and they noticed, not everyone said something, but facial expressions say a lot. My mom noticed right away. I in fact didn’t even realized how much weight I lost until people started making comments. And now looking at older photos, I definitely was skinny as fuck. AIN’T NOBODY GOT TIME FOR THAT! My body resembled that of a boy scout or slender man. So not sexy at all.

(Funny how when you gain a little chub chub or lose a lot of weight people will always say rude shit)

When I returned to University (I believe it was my final year), my perspective of people and their bodies changed. Even, the most skinniest of people I saw flaws in their bodies. I didn’t want gain any weight ever again.

So fast forward to now, I am not as skinny as I was then, I am more what I would like to describe as an average thickness. I workout regularly. I eat somewhat healthy. But even now and then that trick I did back in high school creeps up. Sometimes, I get so down about it I won’t even eat in a day, the only thing I seem to binge are laxatives and fucking strangers.

dumb_dumber-e1370035901294What do I have to thank for it? Well, my teeth aren’t as white or as healthy as they could be. That’s from throwing up disgusting acid shit. I have a lot of intestinal issues. I can eat something and it goes through me quite quickly, and sometimes if it doesn’t HELLO LAXATIVES! I also have issues with my ovaries. And it’s not because I punched them in the fucking face. You see, because of my old habit, I have developed cysts on my ovaries, that come and go. Usually, being on birth control keeps them in check, but they are not nice to have. I can sometimes get intense pains, which usually means they have ruptured or just headbanging in my nether regions.GErQCzV

Also another lovely side effect of my old stupid tricks, is the possibility of having children is slim to non. Usually, pregnancy would result in miscarriage or an ectopic pregnancy which is usually resulted into a miscarriage anyways.

So I am at a stage in my life, where I am rather indifferent to the fact. I enjoy being the crazy auntie from out west that spoils all her nieces and nephews.

I am okay with the decisions I have made in my past. I am content with moving forward. And I am still a work in process when old shady habits start creeping up on me.

But hey, every one goes through stuff. And maybe I feel the urge to devulge all this shit because I’m riding the crimson wave right now. but hey I am a bit cray cray, and thought I would share just one chapter of my open book.

25 Things Video Games Taught Me

FYI I am an avid video gamer, now that I currently am not working a 9-5 job I am more avidly so. That being said; I have decided to let you in on a little secret I have (and potentially most geeks and gamers alike). Here are 25 things that videos games have taught me, which I am sure after reading this you’ll want to save (manually, there is no auto-save here). Image

  1. First and perhaps the most important: DON’T BE A HERO! LEFT FOR DEAD! When playing games with zombies, RUN! You can’t kill them all.
  2. Shrooms are the perfect powerups.
  3. WoW is not a game, but a way of life. A sad one, but one nonetheless.
  4. Never trust Raiders. They will fuck you up and over. EV-ER-Y-TIME!
  5. LAG is no ones friend. Neither is Sephiroth.
  6. Hand-eye coordination! I can give a mean bitch slap. Thank you controllers!
  7. ImageThere is no re-spawn in real life. It will always be a game over!
  8. Weapon of choice: Shot Gun or Bow and Arrow!
  9. Stealth! I move in and out of shadows, dare I say a ‘mystical ninja’.
  10. Always use a deep voice when using a head set (or phone). This will allow me to not get sexually harassed. However, there are the odd times when I am in the mood for some social banter of cunt VS cock.
  11. Road rage can be dealt with using banana peels and koopa shells.
  12. Stay on the path! No sense in chancing combat with a scorpid.
  13. How to quickly and efficiently get things done (i.e- masturbation).
  14. Giving advice! All video games are full of problems and the only way to finish the game is to solve them riddles kids.
  15. There is no strategy book for life. However, there are Black Books. Don’t read them, unless you feel like getting diddled by the devil.
  16. Ocarina is not an acceptable instrument for school band.
  17. When in doubt…..SHOUT!
  18. How to make food, sleep, exercise, pay bills, get a job, buy a house, build a house, upkeep relationships, have kids, etc. My lil Simbot has grown up so much!
  19. When the Zombie Apocalypse happens (and it will I assure you) all gamers will definitely be outliving all you non-gaming folk.
  20. How to put all my shit in storage! ImageImage
  21. Having friends/alliances makes all the difference. No one can help you out if all you want to be is a lone land strider.
  22. Don’t stand by barrels. Or gas tanks or anything flammable.
  23. When in downpours or there is hard rain, RUN and HIDE! Preferably a room with one entrance and no windows.
  24. Updates!
  25. That no matter what, its doesn’t look as real as real life. Pretty freaking close though!

Image