Valentine's Day

So, we all made it through Valentine's Day. For all the single people, I hope it wasn't too depressing and for the couples, I hope it was full of disappointment. Lol jk.

I get annoyed how single people get all worked up about Valentine's Day, claiming they think its “stupid” or “unnecessary.” I used to say these things about Valentine's Day but then I asked myself, “WHY exactly do I not like it?” I couldn't think of a legit reason. It's not because I am single, because I love being and choose to be single. There are a few Valentine cliches I like to avoid, but as far as hating it, I'll save that for the bitter and desperate. Most people blame their hate for VD (Valentine's Day, not Venereal Disease) on the fact that they feel there shouldn't be one day for romance, every day should be the perfect occasion to let someone know they love you. Yes, I do agree with this but I am assuming most couples do romantic things for each other not just on February 14^th. I think of VD simply as a reminder to keep the romance alive and a great excuse to do something fun, not a designated day for romance where the other 364 days of the year are just whatever. Most people just need or crave something to complain about and VD is an easy target.

One cliche I do dislike about VD but I am sure MANY women would disagree is when it comes to gifts, I'd be pissed if I got any of the following: jewelry, flowers, chocolate. Unless any of these things were homemade or home-grown, these items are the most uncreative VD gifts ever. You can walk into any corner store, department store, or street corner and find this crap on VD. If we're going to celebrate VD, I want something from the heart. It doesn't even have to be a thing, maybe even a gesture. For example, last year I woke up to a box of homemade rice krispie squares and other assorted treats on my doorstep from my boyfriend (at the time). Of course he was too embarrassed to tell anybody about it and we broke up shortly after but I thought it was great. He always hated VD so naturally I wanted to make his room look like VD threw up in it. So I went to his house while he was at work and attacked it with red and pink heart-shaped stuff. That's probably why we broke up. Meh. Here are some other creative gifts my friends or other people I know have gotten their Valentines: dairy-free chocolate, scrapbook, butt sex, coupon book, cooked dinner, whipped cream bikini, etc.

There is also a lot of added pressure for Valentine's Night if you know what I mean. Personally, I find that when something is planned, it isn't as great as a spontaneous moment. I find this is true with most things: a night out, a birthday party, a conversation with someone, etc. Girls spend a ridiculous amount of cash on fancy lingerie that comes with straps, clips, bells, bear traps, you name it that men have no idea how to even take off. Unless you plan on doing some sort of sexy dance with it on, don't bother because it won't stay on for long anyway. I've actually heard some men say they are scared of lingerie because they worry about how to get it off without looking confused and therefore can't enjoy what's in front of them. However, I do hang out with mostly gay men so that could be why they are afraid of lingerie. Who knows?

You know what I miss? Grade school on VD. I loved how as an art project, we were to make a box for our desk for Valentines and at the end of the day, we went around and put Valentine cards or treats in our friends and peers boxes. I loved going home and looking at all the different Valentine cards and the personal messages written on the back of them. Well, one year I had a minor crush on this boy. I think it was grade 5 or something. Anyway, the only conversation I ever had with this boy was about Austin Powers and he said “want to suck on my zipple” in the Dr. Evil voice. When I was writing out his Valentine card I decided to write that on there as a joke. Then I thought, he probably won't remember having this conversation with me because it was a long time ago and I'm sure the only reason I remember it is because I have a bit of a crush on him. So, I whited it out and just wrote a simple “Happy Valentine's Day” on it. The next day I distributed my cards and then it was home time. I was at my locker getting my backpack organized when he came up to me and simply said “ew, what is this!?” He held out the Valentine I had given him and the white-out was scratched off, revealing the words “want to suck on my zipple.” How embarrassing.

I will tell you a story about my VD a couple years ago. I was in college and on the Student Council and our board retreat fell on Valentine's Day. We were going snow tubing in basically the middle of nowhere and staying in a creepy cabin. Now, not even a week before this retreat my friends forced me to see the movie My Bloody Valentine, which shook me to my core because I don't normally watch scary movies. So, its VD around midnight or so and were all chilling in the cabin when the lights start flickering and one of my friends put on a gas mask and started chasing me around the cabin. I've never screamed so loud in my entire life. My friend who was in on the joke even got scared and ended up slamming my fingers in the bathroom door, where we tried to hide. Later on, on my bed I found a bunch of cardboard hearts with the words “die” carved on them and in the middle, a heart-shaped box of chocolates. Except inside was a mess of crap which they tried to design to look like a human heart. To be honest, that was probably the most romantic VD of my life, knowing my friends went through all that trouble to scare me was really creative and flattering.

Anyway, whether single or taken, I hope you survived VD with minimal damage.

Love, Chelsea

oxoxoxxo.

                                       Me gagging at what I found inside my box of "chocolates"

                                                                This is what was inside.

R.I.P My Dog Casey

 

Ugh

Welp. The day I've always felt I was most afraid to face has passed. In a small way I guess it's good that I no longer need to fear it. I lost the best friend I've ever had and am now forced to face the worst heartbreak of my life. I had to say goodbye to my dog Casey.

      Her decline of life quality happened so quickly and so drastically that when she was dropped off at the vet that day, I truly believed she would be coming back to me that night; back into the makeshift dog bed I made up for her on my floor with random blankets and pillows. I was the only one who felt like letting her go was a wrong decision but I think I was just in denial that I was about to part ways with the thing in life that gave me the most joy.

     It's amazing how noticeable her lack of presence is already. “I feel as if she could walk through the door at any minute.” You always hear people say this when they lose a loved one but now I actually get it. Right now I am laying in my bed and the possibility of hearing Casey sniffing and thudding down the hall, making her way to my room for the night seems so real.

     I hate the feeling of not knowing 100% if putting her down was the right decision. I'm not sure if I believe in signs but what gave me comfort was that as the doctor reached across her to inject her, she gently licked his hand then laid her head down. I like to think it was her reassuring him he was about to do the right thing. I kept my hand on her chest until I felt her heart stop beating and then I knew my friend was at peace. After the rest of the family said their goodbyes I needed to be alone with her for one last time. I curled up on the floor and spooned her body and sniffed her ears for about five minutes. I loved the smell of her ears, it was one of my favourite things about her.

     Today was the first time ever I've come home from work and she didn't come running to the door to greet me. Even if I was in a hurry to be somewhere after work I would always take the time to sit down with her and give her a nice butt scratch. I almost didn't want to come home from work. I was cleaning my room tonight and all my blankets smell like her. It's not a great smell but I can't bring myself to wash them yet. I new facing this situation was inevitable and I knew I would take it hard but damn. I've had a broken heart before but this one's a doosey. One of the hardest and most unexpected things about this is seeing my Dad's heart breaking. The man who NEVER wanted a dog is now finding difficult being without his best bud. I bet myself he wouldn't cry but he sure did. That dog had him wrapped around her little claw. She had us all in love with her. She was literally the only living thing on the planet that was guaranteed to put a smile on my face when I was down. The thing on the top of my list that I loved and cared about most in the world. The only living thing that would want to be around me or that I would let around me when I was in a mood. When I lived in a different province for half a year I would have phone chats with her for crying out loud. I don't care how weird that was to other people, we were that close. I owe her a bazillion thank-yous and I can only hope she felt the love and companionship from me in return. She truly was my best friend and I feel lost without her. I've already noticed about a billion things that I miss about her.

Things I Will Miss Most About Casey

-knowing it's just Casey making her bed or readjusting her position when I am woken up by noise in the middle of the night.

-hearing her claws on the kitchen floor when she walks. You could always tell when she was about to be fed because her claws would click faster as she ran to her bowl with excitement.

-the way she would sit outside the bathroom door and waited for me while I took a bath, no matter how long I took. Sometimes she would come into the bathroom unannounced and lay on the mat while i bathed.

-seeing her standing there in hopes of me dropping something when I opened the fridge.

-the way I would blame any of my farts on her

-the way she would lay right beside me EVERY time I would do sit-ups

-the way she would use her weight to recline the La-Z-Boy and stare out the front window

-believe it or not I will miss the way she would follow me around the house

-the way she would hide my Dad's slipper every time he went outside for a cigarette

-the way she would sway back and fourth under the table, the Christmas tree, peoples hands, or basically any object she could fit under in order to scratch her butt.

-how if you gave her a bone she would walk around the house for hours looking for a place to hide it.

-the smell of her ears. She may have been a smelly dog but her ears smelled like honey.

-the way she would wake me up in the morning by licking my hand that would be dangling off the bed.

-the way she would bring her bowl into the living room and throw it around angrily, letting us know she was hungry.

-how she loved the sun. She loved to tan in the backyard and when the sun would shine into the living room through the window, she would lay in it.

-the intense greetings I would get from her after I returned from a vacation

-the way she used to attack my first boyfriend lol

-the way she would jump up on the couch and stare at/sniff her Christmas stocking

-the way she would roll on her back and her teeth would stick out and her ears would flop back when she wanted attention.

-the way she would rummage through my purse looking for candy or food

-the way she would insist on bringing my bras into the living room

-the times on her birthday we would put her in a chair and let her eat cake at the table

-hearing my Dad call her his “girlfriend”

-the times we would walk through the tall weeds at the park and she would get lost in them

-her howl

-the times we would talk on the phone

-the way she could never understand the concept of the game fetch

-the way she wasn't shy to climb onto strangers laps and hope for a belly rub

-the way she loved to lay in my pile of dirty clothes

Ok, I literally could write 900 pages of this so I suppose I will stop here.

There's Always Humour...

As painful as this experience was and still is for me, it's still me. Of course there will be SOME humour to the situation. Most of this humour is credited to my wonderful, socially-awkward Dad.

As we walked into the vets office, I told my Dad I thought I was either going to pass out or throw up. He told me he would be right back and went to the van only to return with a GIGANTIC reusable bag from Telus with goats all over it. “Here, you can throw up in this” he said, in a very consoling way.

We all gathered into a room where we waited for the nurse to bring Casey in. The door opened and my baby came slowly walking in, attached to an IV drip which the nurse carted behind her. The nurse gave us some time alone with her as we waited for the doctor. We were all crying and trying to savour what we knew would be our last moments with our most beloved family member when her IV machine started beeping really loud. We had to call in the nurse so she could adjust it and then she left us alone once again. It was only a matter of minutes until it started beeping...again.

After we made out descion to let her go, the doctor explained our options of what to do with the body. My Dad decided he waned to have her cremated and have the ashed returned. A few moments after Casey passed on to another life, Dad broke the silence by saying “so theses ashes, do they come in an urn?” My Dad seemed either very concerned or intrigued with this urn as he asked several questions about it. After I thought the urn questions had finally subsided Dad asks out of nowhere “so does this urn have her name on it?” The doctor offered to show my Dad the urn his late dogs ashes were inside and my Dad was pretty jazzed about this. It was like when a man invites his friend over to his garage to show him his new car. Luckily we got our hands on a book that shows different urns you can choose from. I love my Dad so much.

After we got home I sat in the bathtub and cried for about two hours; until I got too wrinkly for my own good. I was starving and decided on some waffles. At first I thought we had no syrup and I said “well NOW my day is ruined.” That was my first joke since the experience and I was happy to see I still had somewhat a sense of humour.

Some of My Favourite Memories of Casey

-One time I brought her to PetsMart and the manager was bent over pricing stuff on the bottom shelf and she started going to town on his butt, sniffing it like crazy.

-The time I opened the fridge and she stole a hamburger and swallowed it whole.

-The time I put a Hooters shirt on her and she loved it

-The time we tried building a snowman together but she was too preoccupied by barking at the mailman

-The time she threw her food dish at me and it hit me in the face

-The time we reunited her with her sister and she beat her up

-The time on Christmas when we looked out the window during dinner and she was being humped by my Nana's dog.

-The time I was organizing my bras and I found a bone she had hidden there years before.

-The time after I had my surgery and was on heavy medication. I was eating a sandwich and Casey was begging and I started crying and said “I just want to eat my sandwich in peace Casey! I don't beg at you when you are eating your dog food!”

-The time she got really excited when Justin Bieber came on TV.

-The time she was scratching and barking at the door when I had a boy in my room.

One Last Thank-you

Thank-you Casey for being there for all my heartbreaks; from my first to my most recent. Thanks for loving me and wanting to be around me all the time, regardless of what kind of mood I was in. Thanks for embarrassing me in front of people by bringing out tampons and bras while I had company over, you've provided me with many funny stories. Thank you for giving me a reason to hang around home more often. Thank you for letting me snuggle you, even when I know you wanted to be left alone. Thank you for being my best friend! I hope wherever you are now, you are very happy. I miss you and I love you.

 

Cliches

Introduction

Good morning and/or afternoon and/or evening. So today my girl Manda and I went to Colasantis. For those of you who do not know what that is, its a place with animals and plants and whatnot. It has the best chicken, the best cinnamon donuts, and the best peach juice. If you've lived in the area or surrounding areas and have never been there as a child, you are certainly considered deprived. Anyway, we parked out front and went inside where I was attacked by a herd of goats who got mud and goat crap all over my new jeans. I really wanted a picture with one of them so I went up to a brown one who ran away from me. I then tried my luck with a black one but it started pooping as I approached it. We indulged in a delicious homemade picnic and then decided it was time to head out. Apparently the place closed at 5 and it was well past 5. The only way to exit the building was through the back. We had no choice but to walk down a dark creepy road with no sidewalks to get to the car. Oh, did I mention it was pouring rain? Because it was. We aren't 85 years old and therefore don't carry umbrellas around with us so we had to resort to using a magazine of upcoming Colasantis events to keep us “dry.”

Cliches

Personally, I hate using cliches. I feel like it's cheating; using overly written and used words to sum up your feelings instead of expressing how you really feel. Most cliches have been used so many times that their meanings almost become pointless. However, sometimes there is just no better way to describe a moment or express an opinion than by using a good old fashioned, overused but understood by everyone cliche. For my post today I'm going to take some well-known cliches and describe a personal experience related to them!

1. “Beauty is pain.”

I was in Grade 12 and I was in hardcore lust with a boy. He invited me to his house one day to “watch a movie” after which we would be attending one of his family events. In Grade 12 “watching a movie” didn't actually mean watching a movie. I think you can figure out what I'm getting at here. Anyway, I wanted to look nice. Nice meant no underwear lines. Now, I am not a fan of thongs as I find them irritating and pointless but, beauty is pain. I dug out my best/only thong from my mountain of white cottons and tried to position it in a way that didn't highlight my muffin top. While we were “watching a movie” my thong ripped in half. He didn't notice and I was too embarrassed to say anything so I had to walk around his family party with a thong that was ripped in half, praying it wouldn't slide down my body. I sewed up this thong and kept it as a memory.

2. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

I was about 17 or 18 and had fake identification, which only worked at Woody's (a slightly ghetto bar but always filled with possibilities and great memories). I would always wear the same hideous fake suede boots to the bar, they were the only comfortable shoes I owned, but GOD were they hideous (see picture of the day at end of blog). I thought wearing them seemed like a good idea at the time. Anyway being the classy girl I was at the time and continue to be, it was also a good idea at the time to dance on top of the speakers. I was busting out my best moves (fist pumps and booty shakes) when my ugly boot got caught in between two speakers and my entire leg was jammed, resulting in a ginormous bruise. My friends had to heave me out. I felt like James Franco in 127 Hours.

3. “Patience is a virtue.”

It was a year or two ago and I was at the gym. I was half-way through my regular treadmill routine when I felt some rumbling in my stomach. I diagnosed it as mild indigestion and continued on with my work out. Afterwards, I was packing up my belongings in the locker room when the rumbling in my stomach made its way down south. Now, I have some sort of phobia or dysfunction where I can't take a Number 2 in public so I scooted out of the gym and headed for home. I didn't anticipate how bad things were about to get. I could hardly hold it. I was sweating profusely and breathing heavily. Of COURSE I got EVERY red light possible on the way home. It only got worse as time passed. I was stopped at yet another red light and this is where I began to pray aloud. “Please God, Please don't let me crap my pants. PLEASE.” At this point I started to tear up. I began getting angry and started cussing. My breathing patterns were now those of a woman in labour. I FINALLY get home and I waddle my way into the house, clenching my butt. I hurl open the front door, whip off my shoes and run to our only bathroom only to discover it was occupied by my Mom who was taking a bath. It was all over. I was out of luck and out of patience. I crapped my pants.

4. “You gotta put your foot down.”

I was living in Whistler, BC with three other girls and I have a farting issue. The issue being that I never stop farting. If I excused myself to go to the washroom every time I needed to pass gas I would live in it. I was brought up in an environment where tooting was highly praised and it was a hard transition for me moving in with people who are...normal. One night I was extra gaseous and my roommates decided to put their foot down. They threw me on the balcony and locked the door. There was no way off the balcony and no way to get inside the house and it was dark. Luckily I could see the television from outside so I set up a chair and chilled. Then they shut the blinds. After banging on the door for several minutes they eventually let me in. I tried my best to only toot outside from then on.

By-eee

Thank you so much for reading :) :) I appreciate all your compliments on my blog! I am happy people find me entertaining! Enjoy the picture of the day!

Love,

Chels

 

These are the hideous boots I would wear EVERY weekend downtown. Woof.

The worst part is several people have told me how horrible they looked

but I just didn't care.