Making changes

First off, I want to say thanks for all your support. I know sometimes when someone whines and bitches on their blog, it comes across as being spoiled or something. Thanks for just letting me be me and get that off my chest. It was theraputic.

I did make a list yesterday of everything that was making me angry. It was three pages long, no suprise. Then I went and wrote the solution to everything beneath it.

I would love to say that that alone solved everything but it didn't. I felt better temporarily but the events of the day consipired to deeply enrage and upset me.

First of all, I nearly died on the drive home. I was in the merging lane, keeping up with speed of traffic, and merging onto the highway like I do every day after work.

As I was merging - you know, moving over, traffic signal blinking - the car whom I thought was slowing down to let me in, suddenly stepped on the gas.

I guess at the last minute he decided he was not going to let me in and the distance between him and the car in front of him started closing up fast.

My dilemma was that I had no choice but to merge at this point. My speed had increased because of it and I had maybe 5 seconds before the merge lane ended and I would have slammed into the gaurdrail on the side at 70K.

I couldn't speed up too fast either because there was still a car in front of me. And I couldn't have slammed on the breaks either because I wouldn't have stopped in time and would have flipped.

It was at that moment, as I was moving over and realizing this guy is going to fucking run into me and knowing I had no option, that I felt total fear. Fear that because of this one guy, I may actually get into a horrible car accident or worse. I would have died.

So in my panic, I just LAID DOWN ON THE HORN - I honked fast, repeatedly, even though he was behind/beside me. I probably freaked the lady out in front of me but I needed to let the guy know that if he didn't let me in, it would be the end for us all.

Other cars were slowing down and looking at the attention I was creating so it was only then that he stepped off the gas and BARELY let me in. I guess he figured if we crashed it was his fault.

Then he proceeded to tailgate me all the way to me exit, and stared at me the whole time, throwing his hands in the air and not understanding what just happened. Funny thing was it was a green SecuriGuard car so how about that for security.

I was just so shook up afterwards, I started crying on the drive home. I couldn't believe what could have happened. And I couldn't believe this guy.

I can understand there are jerks out there who speed up when, say, someone is trying to budge in front of you - I admit I do this. At like 10K. And when they are trying to bypass the line and cut in front on purpose.

But you DO NOT prevent someone from merging into your lane when the merge lane ends. Even if it doesn't end, when people have to merge, you let them. And even if you did feel like being a jerk and speeding up a bit, most people would back off once they realize that the person is coming in whether you like it or not. But not this guy. He wanted me dead, it seems.

So yeah, I was so upset after that I didn't even make it to spin class. I felt too scared and vulnerable to go back outside.

Then the second event happened. I stepped on the scale. I know I shouldn't have, but it had been TWO WEEKS since I last weighed myself so I figured that was enough time to not have it influenced by daily fluctuations.

Yup. I gained weight again. 140.4. I haven't been this fucking heavy since 2005.

I'm only 5'5" - being 140 is at the very top of what is healthy here. I am just 5 pounds away from being the weight I was when guys told me I was "too fat" - 5 pounds away from the weight that made people ask me "Why are your arms so big" - 5 pounds away from having an unhealthy BMI.

For someone who eats right and exercises, this is not the weight I am supposed to be.

I just can't believe it. I can't believe all the exercise and dieting and strength training and stress have lead to NOTHING!

I mean, I am cutting out, through diet and exercise, at LEAST 3,500 calories a week so I should AT LEAST be losing a pound a week but not even that. I'm gaining and gaining and gaining!!! And it's NOT FUCKING MUSCLE, you can't put on pounds of muscle just like that, it takes time for muscle weight to build and even body builders can't put on more than one pound of muscle a week, so that "muscle weighs more than fat" thing is bullshit. Total bullshit. I mean, I don't even work my muscles more than twice a week.

This of course sent me into a tizzy at 10PM last night which my poor boyfriend had to deal with.

There is a difference between hating the way you look and hating your body because you aren't doing anything about it and hating the way you look and hating your body even though you ARE doing something - many things - and nothing is working.

I am so close to throwing in the towel. What is the point? Why am I watching what I eat if it doesn't help? Why am I exercising?

The only thing that is keeping me going is the fact that I am training for this 10K - and right now, that is my saving grace. Because if I hadn't signed up for it, I would quit right now. Sure I wouldn't lose weight, but I'm not losing weight anyway and I least I wouldn't be miserable because I spend all my free time exercising and not eating.

(btw I am eating between 1200-1400 calories a day, so no, I am not in "starvation mode").

And the thing is, this isn't even about feeling FAT or whatever anymore...I just don't understand why my body isn't cooperating. I can live with staying at my weight if I have to but what really grinds my gears is WHY? Why is this happening? I've lost weight before...how come I can't now? Why are my efforts going to waste? Why is my body defying chemistry? What is the reason? I NEED TO KNOW.

Then I started getting angry all over again. And crying. And depressed.

And then I realized, holy crap I AM depressed. I mean, clinically depressed which explains why I hate myself and my life so much right now, am always tired and always angry.

It makes sense. It runs in my family. My mother is on prozac, my brother is bi-polar (among other things). And I have been on anti-depressants before.

But here is the thing - I am TERRIFIED to take anti-depressants again. Because the one time I did - Wellbutrin - it ruined my life. This was back in 2000 and I STILL feel side effects, 9 years later.

Wellbutrin almost killed me - I ended up in the hospital, lucky to be alive.

It's an interesting story, but long, so I will share it with you some other time. But needless to say, I am not really eager to try "happy pills" again.

But there is obviously something wrong with me and I need help.

So, I am going to make some changes. After this weekend, I am going back on the South Beach Diet that made me lose a lot of weight before (slowly but surely) - perhaps I just can't handle carbs and sugar, no matter how low-calorie my diet is.

I might take up yoga again, once a week. One thing that stresses me out is how much time exercise is sucking out of my life but anyway.

I'm gonna continue doing my exercise everyday but keep a low-stress approach. Just keeping doing it, consistently, and stop expecting results. Only spin once a week because going to class stresses me out. Run when I can. Go on the eliptical in between.

I'm probably going to the doctor tomorrow to get my thyroid tested. For the last 8 years I have believed I have a low thyroid, and though I have been tested for it many, MANY times, I'll still get tested again. Maybe also ask if there are anti-depressants or ant-anxiety drugs that don't cause weight gain, sexual side effects OR seizures.

Regardless of that outcome, I am also going to start taking Omega 3 Fish Oil.

Doing some research, I've found that with only a mild blood-thinning side effect, Omega 3 fish Oils can help the following problems I might have: Depression, ADHD, Anxiety, Weight Gain, Memory, Brain Fog, Energy, High Cholesterol, High Blood Pressure, Arthritis, etc.

I'm not expecting a miracle pill but even getting some benefit out of it is better than nothing. And hell, maybe the placebo effect will work with me! I'll take that.

Picture time - yesterday I was inspired by The Budget Babe's take on wild animal prints. Last week I wore the zebra cardi, so this week I slipped on a snow leopard pencil skirt. I paired it with my evil Christian Louboutin heels which I will certainly list on Ebay shortly and a new punky cuff from ASOS.








Sweater and skirt: Forever 21; Tights: H&M; Shoes: Christian Louboutin; Cuff: ASOS

Anger management

I was going to do a post regarding my wonderful Valentine's weekend but that will have to wait till tomorrow as I forgot my camera cord at home and have tons of photos to post.

I've just been in such a foul mood lately and I have no idea why. I mean, I know I am an angry person by nature, though it can be hard to pinpoint the causes of these things. Sometimes I think I subconciously ache for all the hardships in my life, which can be unnerving since everyone has a sob story and there is always someone worse off than you. But growing up with my feet and facing the challenges I have faced with that regard, has been tough, no doubt. It's hard to want to be normal so badly and yet know deep down that that will never, EVER happen.

Sometimes I think I buy a lot of shoes because I am searching for something to make me feel normal, like everyone else. High Heels=hurt; I ache emotionally because I can not look sexy like everyone else, and if I wear them I ache physically because they kill my feet. Actually, considering my disability, I should be grateful that I don't have to wear orthopedic shoes. And I am, sometimes. But I am still angry most of the time.

Like right now. I'm angry because my feet are killing me. I am wearing a beautiful pair of Christian Louboutin heels. They aren't even high, maybe 3 inches. They are a gorgeous grey colour with very pointy toes. Yet, even though THEY SAY CL's are cut small, these are still way too big for me. My toes slide so far forward that my heel slips out with each step. I wobble as there is no hold back there. And no, even a million Foot Petals don't help, they just squeeze my toes together even more.

So I can't have nice shoes. These beautiful, expensive shoes mock me because I know I can never wear them and be confident. I have to worry about each step I take. So, other than today, they usually sit on my shelf where I can look at them and imagine what it would be like to have normal feet.

My feet must be the cause of a lot of my issues, but it's not all. I grew up with a brother whom I barely consider a brother. He has Asperger's Syndrome, a form of Autism, and also has a slew of other mental disorders. He got into drugs at 16, stole thousands of dollars and heirlooms from my me and my parents to buy money for cocaine, acid etc, he lived on the streets of Vancouver for years, panhandling for money for crack and booze. He destroyed my family. I used to hate him. Now I don't, I don't feel anything anymore. What I do feel is how his life destroys my poor mother who has had the worst possible childhood of anyone you can think of. It's not fair to anyone.

At 30, he is better now. He lives in a welfare sponsored apartment near my parents. He has a friend who takes care of him, who is now more like a brother to me than my brother is. But things aren't fine. He'll still look through my bag and take any money he can find and buy booze. He'll still trick doctors into giving him Ritalin, which he will then proceed to take all at once. He'll still get drunk, threaten someone, get arrested. He'll still dissapear for days. He'll still come over to my parents and harrass my mother for money and freak out if he doesn't get it. There's a reason my parents go on their boat so often or spend months in Palm Springs - it's to get away from my brother. Imagine, you have to escape from your own son because being around him is too unberable.

Then there is someone in my family, the person closest to me, who is an alcoholic because of all of this (and because it runs in my family, both sides apparently). The things I have gone through from age 10 to now... I can not even begin to describe what I have seen and experienced.

So those are reasons I could be angry...not only am I cursed to have horribly scarred and disabled feet but I get an alcoholic parent and drug-addicted mental-case brother too.

On top of that, I can't lose weight. Seems pretty trivial after everything i've just said, I know, but funnily enough I think this bugs me most of all. Because I SHOULD be thin. I SHOULD be perfect because of all the other shit in my life. I shouldn't have to struggle to lose weight. I shouldn't have to work out all the damn time in order to lose weight or constantly watch and monitor everything I put in my mouth. I shouldn't have stringy horrible hair and bad skin. I shouldn't feel tired and run down all the damn time. I shouldn't have undereye circles that are unconcealable. I should at least have something going for me.

And I do. I know I have a lot going for me, but it's not the things I want. I have money to buy clothes - but who cares when I am not thin enough to wear the things I want to. I can buy nice shoes, but what's the point when they sit on my shelf - they aren't art. I have a job that I don't hate, but what about all the dreams I had, knowing I should be doing something else.

I had dreamed of a life less ordinary, something far from mediocre to make up for all the shit I've had. But my life turned out to be very ordinary indeed. Maybe this is what angers me most of all. I'm 27 and I've got nothing.

Well, that's my rant. Please don't suggest I go to therapy, I have a counsellor that I have seen before and if I feel the need to go, I will. Please don't belittle me for my problems for I know they may seem minor to some and I know there is always someone worse off. And please don't think I'm ungrateful for the good things I have in my life because I know they are there. I just haven't been able to see them clearly lately.


Addendum: In order to start sorting myself out, I made a HUGE list of everything that is making me angry lately. Interestingly enough, my family only came up at the very end, as an afterthought, so while they may be making me angry subconciously, they aren't really factoring into my current rage state. And the more I think about it, my current rage state is tied a lot to ME: I am my own worst enemy and I really fucking need some self-esteem!

BTW for those who like pictures with your posts, here are two from awhile back. I like these shots because my clothes and my accesories are mirror images of each other: drapey, flowy, cozy.

Earrings: H&M; Cardigan & Fringe top: Forever 21; Necklace: ASOS

Dress: I forget, some designer type store in Rome; Drapey Cardigan and Scarf: Forever 21; Shoes: Steve Madden


Tunic: H&M, Necklace: Forever 21; Boots: ASOS; Bag: Mielie Bianco; Leggings: Aldo

Inspired By: Radiohead

A little bit moody, slightly irrelavant. Constantly evolving with darkness, curiousity and a touch of glam. From the rag tag 90's sounds of Pablo Honey and The Bends to the electronic heartache and expirements of Kid A and In Rainbows. I have loved Radiohead for over 10 years now, throughout their ever-changing journey, leaps and bounds. And their live shows are the best I have ever seen, fantasy and reality merged into one.



Emotional...electronic. And as such, this was one of the hardest looks to pin down. How exactly do you dress Radiohead?



I think my Doc Martins brought out the 90's vibe, slightly tough and tomboyish. The dice dress was a bit whimsical and over-the-top, as was the mismatched jewlery of gold and silver tones, guitars and guitar pics, dice and unicorns. The black tights and faux leather jacket added the dark touch.










Dress: Rainbeaux; Jewelry: ASOS; Boots: Doc Martins; Jacket: Forever 21; Bag: Ringspun

Wild Thing

Zebra cardigan and unicorn necklace: ASOS; pencil skirt, patent skinny belt and tank: Forever 21; Beatle booties: Louboutin

The Outerwear - Bag: Mat N Nat; Grey Collar Jacket: ASOS...new coat, on sale, love the collar detail and the nice change from black. Can't help but love grey!


As you can see, you can't get too creative at my work with a self-timer so I apologize for lack of quality and originality.

I've spent the first few days this week sick with a flu-type things...feeling uber rundown, tired, sicky poo etc. And for the last time NO I am NOT pregnant, lol. It sucks because it took a huge chunk out of my exercise time and not as much out of my eating time. I did get a lot of sleeping done but sadly I'm still not feeling 100% - and I need to be by tomorrow for VALENTINE'S DAY.

Before I go into that though, I'll just say that I have been sporting sleek pencil skirts at work this week because I have a feeling the more people notice my clothes, the less seriously I am taken here. I know I touched on this in the comments of my last post when a co-worker mentioned how I was able to get away with my flouncy floo dress because it was Casual Friday.

This irked me because how does wearing a flouncy dress mean "casual" - does it not mean a million steps up from that? As in FANCY. FANCY FRIDAY, maybe.

Damn it, I'm gonna start having my own Fancy Fridays now.

Anyhoo, it irked me also because I often wear pretty flouncy dresses. None are risque and all are polished and put-together, like some 1950's secretary (OK those snake tights were pushing that envelope). So does that mean I'm secretly being judged for not wearing "business" attire?

Who cares right? I know - she's a 300 pound mess anyway who constantly tells me how stressful my job is and "gooood luck" just because she had the position years ago. I can't help it if she's a panting stresscase - my position is just fine, thank you.

Anyway, I will continue to wear flouncy pretty dresses - just remembering to mix it up with sleeker ensembles every now and then.

Like this cardigan and pencil skirt combo. Yeah, my butt and thighs are a bit too big for this look (at the moment) but I do have to say, I feel sleeker dressing sleeker. I swear to God, I look much sleeker too when I'm not on camera. But who knows, it could be a mind over matter thing. All I know is that I'm slowly getting there - just not quite ready for pants....yet.

Right, on to Valentines Day....I hate V-Day.

I hated it when I was single and I hate it as a couple.

I hate how it gives girls an excuse to brag about how RICH and THOUGHTFUL and AWESOME their guy is....even though he's only rich, thoughtful and awesome for that ONE day of the year.

My guy doesn't have money. He can't help that -he's an artist and he's young. I'm just glad he doesn't live at home anymore. So we don't do the fancy restaurant thing, he doesn't give me jewlery...I'll be lucky if he can give me a bottle of wine. But whatever he doesn't do, I know it's OK because he is an amazing man every other day of the year. I just don't go bragging about it.

So this year I decided to say FUCK YOU V-DAY - why do we have to leave it in the man's hands? It's a "holiday" of love, so why aren't women doing nice things for their man, why is it expected to be the other way?

Yeah, I know there is "Steak and BJ Day" but I feel fucking sorry for the man who only gets steak and a BJ one day out of the year! Should be a weekly thing.

Anyway, I took matters into my own hands and I decided to take charge. I booked a romantic cottage on an nearby island. It has it's own hardwood deck overlooking the ocean and pool and gourmet breakfast served at your door in the morning. It's isolated, in fields and forests, surrounded by the sea, yet close enough to civilization that we can enjoy a romantic gourmet Italian dinner at a nearby bistro. There will be lingerie and dressing up like a magna schoolgirl and chocolates and champagne. And even better, the feeling of just getting away from it all, even just for a night.

We'll end up splitting the costs 50/50, maybe more on my end and less on his. It doesn't matter. I just wanted to do something special for both of us and to not depend on him for everything. It takes two.

Sure, it would be nice to have a guy who spends his money on you, lavishes attention on this one hokey day. But I would rather have a penniless guy who would never cheat on you, never hurt you and treat you like gold every day of the year.

Of course, there are the few girls who get the whole package. To them I say: I guess you can have everything...bite me. :)

Slow and Steady Wins the Race

What I wore last week. Something I fell in love with when I saw it, though upon wearing it I admit it might have been a bit frou-frou for the office. I did get a lot of attention and compliments though. To be on the safe side, I have stuck to a more sleek and conservative look this week.

Similar to...



Can't wait till Summer when I can wear it with bare legs and arms. So for now, I made did with maroon accents...









Dress: ASOS Luxe; Tights: H&M; Shoes: Vic Matie; Belt: ASOS; Necklace: Hannah Makes Things: Cardigan: unknown..Sirens, maybe


This is a positive/negative post so I'm going to start with the negative first, to end on a good note.

I've been working out very hard and watching what I eat for a month now and there have been no changes in my weight.

Actually, that's a lie. I've actually GAINED weight! Yup. Apparently it wasn't enough to just bust my hump to lose zero pounds so instead my body decided to gain a few. Not very funny, body.

I know that there are reasons for this...could be muscle. Could be water. Could be Satan torturing me the best way he knows how. But the fact is, I expected to have lost 8 pounds already and have just gained one instead.

Weight loss comes slowly, you might say. Oh really? Well how is it that last year, I did roughly the same thing with spinning in place of running and I DID lose 8 pounds in one month. And then some (lost 12 in total in two months).

It is so frustrating, especially since I have become a total hermit since I've started this plan. I haven't gone out and seen my friends in weeks, I've just holed up in my apartment. I just don't want them to see me like I am. Especially since on Facebook everyone more or less knows about my weight loss efforts and all the workouts I am doing. So they would probably expect to see some skinny version of me. And hell, that's what I thought I could unveil too but there is no skinny me at this point, it's the same old me that they are going to see. A me that OBVIOUSLY failed.

On Feb 21st I have a girl's night out that I have been somewhat looking forward to, thinking that on that night I could unveil the new "me" - but I know now that's not going to happen yet. So when that night comes along, instead of wearing one of the hundreds of form-fitting dresses I have that I was hoping to show off, I'm going to have to put on some baggy mumu thing (though I promise it will be a cute mumu).

I still haven't even worn pants yet! It's been a month! I want to wear pants!

Patience is a virtue, I know, especially when it comes to weight loss. But I am so sick of trying so hard and getting nowhere. I am so tired of being so angry and hateful towards anyone thinner than I am. I'm a bitter, hungry hermit with no end in sight.

What's funny though is when I lost the weight last year, no one freakin' noticed! I went from 138 to 124 at one point (last few pounds were flu induced). I went down 2 jeans sizes. But no one said anything. It was at that point that I realized I had to be doing this for myself alone and no one else. And luckily, I was since even though no one noticed, I liked myself a LOT better for being thinner.

Anyhoo, on the plus side, I think I notice a change even now. My bf says he does too but I think he's just trying to shut me up. But my butt feels smaller (which isn't that good since I like my butt), my abs and pooch are flatter, my waist is tinnier, the muscles on my legs are more defined and I think THINK my face may finally be de-puffing.

Or it could all be in my head since technically I am getting heavier. LE FREAKIN' SIGH.

OK more positivity. As you know, I have been training for the Vancouver Sun Run, the world's second largest timed 10K race.

First off, let me give you a bit of a background on myself. As most of you know, I was born disabled with club feet. This means that I learned to WALK and RUN with casts on both of my legs.

As a result, I have never walked or run normally. I used to get teased - hardcore - about both while growing up (nevermind the teasing about the scars). It wasn't till I saw a video of myself walking with my horse around a paddock that I realized I didn't straighten my legs enough while walking.

So I improved on that, though to be honest people still notice my "walk." My mother calls it the "Marilyn Monroe walk," and I've had physiotherapists have other names for it (something about having loose hips...). I wiggle. My hips sashay. I don't think much about it these days but I did think about it - with every step I took - for about 23 years. It makes me cry, right now, to think about how much something as simple as walking made me so afraid. In fact, I am still afraid sometimes to walk past people I know because I think they are making fun of me. I'm afraid to walk alone in the town I went to high school in for fear of the same thing.

Then there was RUNNING. That was even worse and as a result, I never did it. First of all, I didn't run properly (leaned too far forward), I had exercise-induced asthma and very poor fitness. My feet ACHE after walking or standing for too long so it made sense they would hurt even more from running. Plus I was made fun of by both my peers AND teachers.

I remember several horrible PE classes, including one in Grade 7 where I was excused from playing soccer. The reason being, there was a chance someone could kick my ankles, in the scar area, when going for the ball and if that happened... Holy shit. I can't explain the pain. I can't even TOUCH my scars without wanting to vomit, honestly. It's all raw nerve endings. So it's safe to say that if I got kicked there, it would be like being kicked in the balls. I know this is abou true, because I have been kicked there once (in the scars, not the balls...dont have balls :P) and I just keeled over. Couldn't breathe. Saw stars. Wanted to die.

Anyway so these snotty rich bitches from my school were complaining to the PE Teacher about me "How come Lusty can't be on our team just because her feet are all messed up," and the teacher said, "Why should it matter, she can't run properly anyway." Right in front of me.

So you can see why I've been afraid to run.

But I decided to put it past me. I started going running in the mornings back in December - not because it was easier to get it out of the way but that because it was dark and no one could see me. I just realized this now, which means I've actually come quite aways since then. I've been running in the daylight now without thought so I'm obviously learning to not give a shit. Finally.

Back in December though, I could do 10 minutes before I wanted to die. As of now, I can run for 35 minutes, and I don't feel like dying at the end, instead I feel like I could keep going. To be honest though, I STILL feel like dying it's just that occurs during the first 20 minutes of my run and eases up after that. Or I have 10 minutes of wanting to die dispersed with 10 of not wanting to and so on.

And I actually like running. OK, that's not entirely true because when I am ACTUALLY RUNNING I am constantly cursing myself and my body, etc...I just plain hate it. But any other time, I have only good things to say. Like now. I know the pain I feel when running and how hard it is, yet I am stupidly looking forward to my run tomorrow morning. I scour magazines and running blogs for running tidbits. I consider myself a runner and running as a hobby. I live for it! That is, until I'm actually putting one foot in front of the other.

Maybe I just like the idea of me as a runner. ME. As a RUNNER. Let's face it, my parents are so proud of the fact that I run now and am training for the race because I CAN run. To them, it means their child isn't a completely handicapped mess. I can do anything and since most podiatrists have frowned against me running, that only reinforces that fact YES I CAN.

Yes, my shins hurt when I run sometimes. My legs burn and feel too heavy to move (another reason to lose weight: I'll be easier to move). My hamstrings are forever tight. But so far, my feet don't hurt. Maybe when I approach the 60-minute mark, they might but at this moment, my disability isn't getting in my way.

(I should also mention that I started spinning again to help with the weight loss and to improve my running with crosstraining. I hadn't been to a spin class since September and was suprised how I am now able to go hardcore for the whole session, harder than I ever have - in fact, spinning was now "easy" to me. If running hasn't helped with weight loss, I at least know for sure that it has improved my stamina and fitness levels ten-fold!)

PS - just wanted to thank you all for your lovely and supportive comments. You guys rock and your words do matter. Thanks for reading :)

Inspired By: Dire Straits

Baby I see this world has made you sad
Some people can be bad
The things they do, the things they say
But baby Ill wipe away those bitter tears
Ill chase away those restless fears
That turn your blue skies into grey

Why worry, there should be laughter after the pain
There should be sunshine after rain
These things have always been the same
So why worry now

Baby when I get down I turn to you
And you make sense of what I do
I know it isnt hard to say
But baby just when this world seems mean and cold
Our love comes shining red and gold
And all the rest is by the way

Why worry, there should be laughter after pain
There should be sunsh ine after rain
These things have always been the same
So why worry now


I love Dire Straits. I first started to listen them about 10 years ago, after stealing most of my dad's CDs.

I grew up with the music, you see. My dad is a sailor and I've been on a boat since I've been in diapers. Dire Straits (along with The Moody Blues and Johnny Cash) are the quintesential boat music and everytime I listen to this great British band I am transported back to sunny evenings and sea breezes.

Of course, as I grew older and began to cultivate all things Classic Rock, I began to appreciate Dire Straits for more than memories. Listening to Mark Knopfler's genius instantly transports me...maybe I'm driving down an empty highway as dark stormclouds gather on the cornfield horizon in Telegraph Road. Or I'm strolling down a rain-splattered London road On Every Street or Romeo and Juliet. Or staring out at the wild ocean battering the pier and thinking of lost loves that are So Far Away From Me (one of my all-time favourite songs).

I saw Mark Knopfler play at the Orpheum Theatre last year (the band Dire Straits has been broken up for awhile) and it was amazing. I literally had tears spilling down my face during Brothers in Arms. PS - I totally recommend anyone who is interested to download any of the songs above to experience just a bit of this moody magic (on Every Street, So Far Away From Me or Why Worry Now if you are feeling particularly dramatic and wish to feel as if a characted in a hopeless film).

Anyhoo, this is what I think of wearing when I think of Dire Straits: Romantic, Dark, British, Sad, Melodic, Yearning, Dramatic, Western and 70's.









Dress: Mina UK; Leather Jacket: Vintage; Peacock Earrings: ASOS; Scarab Bracelet: stand in Las Ramblas, Barcelona; Amber Bracelets: store in Tallin, Estonia; Tights: H&M; Boots: Bata

Have a listen:

So Far Away - Dire Straits

Friday Whines

This picture is just to ensure you that I am not all bitterness, snails and puppy dog tails. It's Friday, I'm exhausted but happy and made even more so by this snazzy new dress that I wore yesterday.


It's from ASOS, my store du jour, though I did acquire this one via Ebay to save on costs. I heart this dress so much. I find it immensely flattering for my body as the sleeves skim my arms and the open scoopneck emphasizes my bust and the bones in my chest (I love having a bony chest, not really on others, but on me...dont know why!). Wearing this while preparing pasta for my man later made me feel like a modern, blonde Sophia Loren. There is something very sexy about it in a "barefoot peasant in 1950's Sicily, collecting olives" kinda way.

Oh and finally, patterned tights that I love - subtle and slimming, Aristoc





Also from ASOS (but came in with an actual order) are my satin grey leopard print ballet flats, Hannah Makes Things necklace and some cool exotic looking ring - I gravitate towards Middle-Eastern jewelry once warm weather hits and I thought this ring would be a good starting point. Yellow cherry earrings from F21 sealed the deal.

I'll leave you with that goofy, happy face of mine fresh in your heads while I start this week's tirade:

***The scale has not budged. I have been working out like a madwoman for 3 weeks now, watching what I eat, counting calories etc and the scale shows ZILCH. I'm still 138. By the laws of physics and food in VS food out, I should have lost at least 3 pounds, if not 6. But I have not.

Yes, muscle weighs more than fat. And I know I do build muscle quickly but really? THAT quickly?

It's discouraging, lemme tell you, but my boyfriend insists he sees a difference...and I do too. I just hope we aren't looking for something that's not there. Regardless, I will continue running and spinning and eating less because I refuse to let this beat me.

***I hate it when you are at the gym and some guy comes over and corrects your form. If I wanted advice, I'd ask for advice. I can understand if I was doing something dangerous but when the gym's personal trainer ain't saying anything, it's safe to say I don't need YOUR tips.

***This might sound odd, but seeing skinny chicks at the gym just pisses me off. It's like you're all humouring me or something cuz clearly you don't need to be here. One girl in my spin class had thighs the size of my upper arm. No kidding. What the hell is she doing in a class that burns off all the calories she had that day? I can understand the skinny chicks who do the strength training but hard-core cardio? Come on!

***Speaking of, it bugs me when women go to the gym, hog the treadmill or elliptical, whip out their magazine and calmy pedal/run away without breaking a sweat. If you're gonna work out, you need to sweat, you can't be afraid of it. I literally have a puddle beside me when I'm done my workouts and my face is as red as a cliche - I know I've gotten a workout but I feel so gross next to all these women who don't even glisten.

***I hate it when my CEO asks me to do stupid mundane tasks. He's not my boss. He just happens to see a pretty young girl in the office next to him and assumes I am his secretary or something. I am not. I work in marketing, I am not an executive assistant. And yet here I am printing out attachments for him - doesn't it take more effort to attach the document and send to me to print than to just print it yourself from your own printer? Oh, and then have me replace the ink cartridges in your said dinky Cannon printer because you don't know how. You're 50! Learn! And while your at it, stop placing your newspaper in my office after you are done reading it - do I look like the recycling bin?

***Then there is the new guy at work. Some guy in IT or accounting who stares at me all the time. And I mean S*T*A*R*E*S. Like I'm in the coffee room and he's just standing there, staring at me. Waiting for me to make eye contact. But I don't.

Then he starts walking by my office...I'm at the end of an L-shape, beside a door that leads to a part of the office he has no business going in. And yet over the last few days he has found a reason to go out of his way and down my end of the office....14 times! And each time he slows down by my desk - stares - and hesitates. Then he either turns around or goes through the door and does a loop that sends him back to his desk. I still refuse to look up because I feel that's all he is waiting for.

And I was right because when I left work yesterday, I went through the mail room and he was standing at the end. The minute he saw me his face lit up like it was freakin' Christmas morning. I smiled quickly back and him and kept on moving. I admit I felt a little bad that I did not return the same quality of smile, which would have been something like this:



Instead it probably looked like this:


*** Two of my boyfriend's friends have these relatively new girlfriends who are 19. I'm 27. There is actually a huge difference between the ages, one that I was not aware of when I was 19. Even though they are very sweet girls (one in particular) they are still just so obviously YOUNG. On the plus side, they act their age and aren't pretending to be older...well, they weren't at first. But on the negative side, I get texts from them saying things like: HI LADY! Letz all go to the museum friday nite! adults only we can drink!!!! TOTALLY fun times, how bout it sexy thang???

Me: I'm broke and not drinking still so I have to pass

Her: That is SO lame!!!!!!! You TOTALLY need to come out more often GIRL! We need to have some fun!!!!! OK!!!! KISSES!!!!!! Smell you lator Bitch! XOXOXO

uuuuuugh.


***This Jessica Alba article I just read from Elle:

It wasn't easy for Jessica Alba to lose the baby weight.

"[The workouts] were horrible," Alba -- who dropped the weight for her Campari calendar shoot -- tells February Elle. "I cried. And I haven't worked out since."

See photos from Jess' sexy Campari shoot.

Giving birth to daughter Honor last June was less difficult, she says.

"Contractions aren't that bad. If you've ever had bad cramps? That's what they're like," she says. "But that moment when they put the baby on your chest – that's deep. It's a deep experience."

See photos of some famous celeb post-baby bods.

Being apart from the eight-month old is hard, she admits.

"This is the first time I've been away from her. It's been six days. It sucks; it's the worst thing ever. But we Skype, so I can see her on video. The worst is when you can see her little chubby hands grab the screen, and I'm not there" she says, wiping away tears. "That's a new thing – I never cried before. Just being a mother is making me a big, weepy mess."

So she's NEVER cried before. God forbid. But she is crying now because HER WORKOUTS ARE HARD! OH MY GOD SHE ACTUALLY HAD TO WORK HARD TO LOSE WEIGHT!????

Fucking get a grip you shallow-headed idiot. I work out, really hard, and I've never cried over that. But I have cried because my dog's died, because my heart has been broken, because I'm stressed, because I've been fired, because I've felt lost, people have died, people are sick, etc.

And then...THEN...to say that labour was just like bad cramps. Now, I'm hoping I'll never have to go through labour (not wanting kids and all) BUT I know that that shit ain't pretty and is pretty fucking painful.

whaaaa!

Anyway that's the end of my rant - felt good to get it off my chest. Hope you all have a swell weekend.


OH and before I forget, ASHLEIGH you won the tights!!! Email me your info so I can mail them to you :)

Risktaker? Me?

I suppose I could be called a risk-taker when it comes to some things.

At 18 I left my family and friends and traveled by myself to New Zealand and Australia where I lived and backpacked around for half a year. I’m not sure what propelled me to do so, but I just left one day and came back a changed person, someone who was no longer afraid to be single for the rest of her life or eat alone in a restaurant.

In 2003, I actually moved to New Zealand, permanently, to go to university. Though I only finished one year there before it became too expensive for me, I had no problems leaving my friends and family behind for what could have been forever.

In 2005, I backpacked by myself around Europe…something most people do, however it is a bit daunting when you do it alone. However, I wouldn’t – nay couldn’t – imagine doing it any other way.

I miss this sense of adventure and the unknown. I miss having my brain challenged, feeling like I am actually doing something with my life instead of muddling through with foggy vision.

And lately I have started to do things to combat this dreary stability. I am training for a 10K race (the second largest timed 10K race in the world) – this may sound like peanuts to most of you but when you factor in the fact that I am disabled and my podiatrists would never have imagined I would be able to do this, this is something different, challenging and exciting. And you can bet I will start blogging more about this, sharing my painful journey with you. And as of today, it is literally painful. Ow.

I also started taking a writing class on Tuesday nights at UBC. Yes, it is vaguely redundant to do this considering I have a degree in Journalism and have worked as a journalist and I write daily for my current job. But I wanted something that would challenge my head since my body is getting challenged. It’s a Travel and Food Writing class, and even though I have had my travel writing published, I want this class to motivate me to do more and I’ve always wanted to try my hand at food writing.



The bad side is that the class really, REALLY makes you want to travel more. Sigh.

However, there are somethings that I play on the safe side with. And that is Fashion.

So many wonderful fashion blogs have girls wearing super-high spike shoes, miniskirts, backless tops, crazy crap.

I can not wear those things. I do not have the confidence, and more importantly, I do not have the body.

Super high heels are wonderful but my feet can not handle them (My feet are too small I can’t stand on my toes – part of my disability). And I can’t wear shoes without tights because you’ll be able to see the scars on my feet. Short shorts or mini skirts are fabulous. But these thighs are way too huge and my butt is way too big to make that look fashionable – on me, it would just look fat. And sad. Crazy crap, again, only girls with thin arms, pointy shoulders and streamlined abdomens and mile-long legs can pull off the more risqué fashion and get away with it.

Unlike most fashion bloggers – and people in general – I am just a bit too big for that. I'm just not a model.

(though I would like to point out that many bigger girls look great no matter what they wear - so as long as they have confidence. I don't have any, so there ya go!)

So, when it comes to fashion, I do play it safe. I stick to dresses that go to my knee or close enough. I wear long sleeves whenever I can. I stick to empire and babydoll cuts so no one can see my overflowing gut. I like coats and blazers and big sweaters because they cover me up.

And before anyone points out that I look FINE let me point out that I have been wearing variations of the above in all my recent pics. You can’t see my thighs. You can’t see my arms. You can’t see my belly. You can't actually see how bloated and flabby I really am (at least I HOPE you can't, dear Lord!).


I haven't worn pants since January 11th - I'm gonna rock mumu-esque outfits for as long as I have to. Chic, mumu-esque outfits. Hell, looking back, aside from Disneyland, I haven't shown my arms on this blog or in public since September 1st!!!!!

Maybe as I lose the weight, my confidence will grow and I will branch out a bit more. In fact, I hope that’s the case. It was like that last time.


(though looking back, I DID wear a tuxedo on New Years Eve - so I guess that was in fact a fashion risk! For me, anyway)

In the meantime, I am faced with THIS:



Tights! Super wacky tights! Super wacky tights that are meant for toothpick thighs and not thighs the size of a T-Rex (his thighs, that is)!

I have been inspired by colorful and different tights lately due to all the lovely bloggers out there parading theirs around and thought ME TOO! I ordered these two from Mytights.co.uk and they arrived quickly, in all their quirky glory.

Only now I wonder if it’s possible for me to pull them off. Me, who should stay away from anything light, patterned and tight.

I DO have one thing going for me, I have thin (and shapeless) calves so perhaps I can pull these off with a little Amish action.

Anyway, as soon as I got home I tried on these Celeste Stein Comic Book ones:




No WAY! Nuh uh. They looked atrocious on my legs and for the life of me I have no idea why I bought these. I mean, did I forgot who I was for a second? Even if they were flattering, they just aren't...me.



My boyfriend saw these tights lying on the couch and remarked how hideous they were. That surprised me because he never says anything about my clothes, especially when unprompted.

So I turned my attention the next pair, pale pink, grey and black snakeskin (also by Celeste Stein):



I paired it with random patent Ebay flats, Forever 21 dress and shawl cardigan and ASOS dip-dye necklace and wore it to work.





Holy crap, did I get comments - and people here rarely say anything about my clothes. One hyper-critical co-worker seemed amused by them. An accountant (a HE) said my "socks look cool" - haha, socks. My boss said they were flattering because the diamond pattern ran vertical. Other people here are giving me a double take.



Next to the comic book tights, I think these tights are actually pretty normal. But on their own and in the office, I guess I am standing out a bit. I can live with that.


Problem is now, the accountant now wants me to wear the comic book ones to work.


I'm not going to do that. But what I am going to do is give them away to one "lucky" blog reader!

Remember, these tights are brand new, have not been worn, have only been tried on for at most two minutes. They are Celeste Stein, cost $26, are super soft and comfy and one size fits all.

To win these, please tell me in the comments below: what is the one look or item of clothing that you tried to pull off but just couldn't...either it looked bad or it just wasn't you.



Spill to win!

Brown N' Blue Bday

Nope, not MY Birthday, my blog's birthday!

Anywhere But Here is officially three years old today!

What a long, strange journey it's been - I can't believe that I actually committed to something for that long. I mean, with me I go through phases so when I started this blog I thought it was just something stupid I was doing for Journalism school and that I would grow bored of it soon.

And yet, here it is. A strong feature in my life, three years later.

It's been with me at the start of one relationship, all the way through its thankful demise. And then the start of another...and final...one.

It has brought me minor fame and fortune. My adventures in celebrity to my adventures in mediocrity.

It has seen me write about more personal topics such as my sex life, to more frivolous topics such as fashion.

It has seen me through Journalism and Film School, through working as a video game tester to working a thankless and demanding job.

Through buying my own apartment to...well, I'm still here, but not for long! But my boyfriend did move in and we have been living together happily in my 430 sq foot place, so that's something!

From travels like sailing across the Sea of Cortez, to New Years Eve in Paris, to flashing my butt in Italy, to teaching English/drinking/almost having an affair in Spain, to Boxing Day in Scotland's Castles to family times in Palm Springs to Hawaiin Bliss and Disneyland.

Controversial musings on society to stuff that's just stupid (I don't like Ice Cream but....

Watching friends come...and bitches go.

I've been stalked and harrassed by some readers (43 comments!) and have had the pleasure to meet others.

Funnily enough, going back and reading all I have written over the last 3 years, I can't help but think I use to write more interesting stuff. It just seems like I used to have a lot more to say - and I do think that was true.

But I also used to blog for a more selfish reason - I wanted validation. Now, I feel like I have validation, I get it from my job, my family and friends. And of course, the man I am with, who - unlike the previous guys - makes me feel sincerely validated every second of my life. I guess...I'm just happier now. Less to complain about, which in the end, is a good thing.

And all of my insecurities and ranting which I have gotten off of my chest have brought me into the hearts of those bloggers who have meant the most to me. Though, sadly, many of my old favourites have stopped blogging, some are still around...and I hope for awhile:

KarinaXOXO - My namesake and party soulmate

Rachel - The London-based version of me

Vegas Princess - my dear friend and one of the first blogs I started reading, 3 years ago!

Eileen Dover - Always makes me laugh and you were a great source of advice when I needed it. Actually, you always are!

Indy - You're a classic - if only I was in Singapore!

Memphis Steve - You always make me smile

Kass - you don't count cuz I met you before you blogged. But I still wish you were here!

Carol - Your blog is a breath of fresh air - and the painting I have of yours was a wonderful gift for my mom.

Peter De Wolfe - where are you man?

Wombat and Scorpy - two cheeky Aussies you'll never forget, you were both there from the beginning and it makes me happy to see you both occasionaly raise your head. I also know you won't mind being lumped together like this.

Mitch - you're always honest - and I'm glad we're friends, least not for the fact that my ex dumped me because I went for coffee with you. For that, I am thankful :)

M - I miss your insight...please post soon!

Rachel 2 - you are sassy and funny and honest and I hope you still read me!

Steph and Sipwine - you ended your blogs awhile back and both are truly missed

And to all my readers who weren't there from the beginning, I look forward to another three years of (hoping to) keeping you mildly entertained!


And keeping with my blog's new direction - and it's just a new direction, nothing fundemental will change and I still want Todd and Steve and Dan to read so perhaps I'll start wearing skimpier clothes ;) - here is today's fashion choice for my Blog's Brown and Blue Birthday (holy alliteration!):









Navy Cardigan: F21; Scale-print Jersey Dress: Uttam @ ASOS; Blue Shiny Tights: AA; Leather boots: Vintage (Ebay); Gold Dice Earrings and Wood + Gold Ring: ASOS; Stone Bracelet: Las Ramblas stand in Barcelona; Amber Bracelets: Store in Tallin, Estonia; Bleary 8AM Face: Me