I am totally copying this idea from a friend, but i think the results are potentially, catasrophically accurate? (at least for my experience.)
The idea is...to type "your name, needs" into google and see what comes up for you. I was thinking earlier today how creepy cool it was that my breathe tattoo is searchable on google images (I fear it is as famous as I will ever get) and this inspirsed me to follow in the footsteps of others and see what this little experiment reveals for me. Here are a few at the top of the list:
1. Lisa needs braces
2. Lisa needs to get a life OMG I WAS KIDDING WHEN I TITLED THIS POST LISA NEEDS TO GET A LIFE. oh the irony.
3. Lisa needs a tree
4. Lisa needs a home
5. Lisa needs a new concealer
6. Lisa needs wooden spatculas? (plural...really one isn't enough?)
7. Lisa needs help!
8. Lisa needs to get away from family
9. Lisa needs a bigger grin and a lot more warmth
10. Lisa needs......... you.
Speechless is needy Lisa.
Single on Valentines is shit?
So I have this thing called blogpatrol that tells me where people are referencing my blog from. It is usually empty, as it hardly gets any traffic other then my mom (who can't even read it) but I'm ok with that. But yesterday, I see that someone has stumbled across my blog by typing in "Single on Valentins is shit." I don't understand how this could be possible, so I have to see for myself, and there is my blog in all its glory, the first site to come up on google. Now don't get me wrong, I was stoked to see I was actually googable for the first time in my life (yay) (well actually second, you used tobe able to type breath tattoo into google images and it would show up first but all of a sudden i dissapeared and lindsay lohan was all over the place...weird..not like I check or anything.) Anyways, What I am trying to say is, I have never said Single on Valentines is shit. I have no idea how google managed to associate those particular keywords with my blog, perhaps it can read my mind? I wouldn't say being single on valentines is shitty, I have written in the past at actually how positive an experience it can be (sweatpants at home with junkfood and sappy movies, or even sweatpants out in public if you are adventuruous.) So I remain perplexed but sickly charmed.
Because I am enviro friendly I like to recycle, and because I like to recycle I will post my old valentines day spiffs for you to enjoy. (yeah right. It's cuz I'm lazy and can't think of anything witty or charming to write this year.)
On that note, Happy Saturday y'all. Go out and get your VD on.
(For those of you to whom I sent this out as a link, I apologize. I am not skilled enough in the facebook world to figure out how to simply send you an image. Please accept this as your valentines card, if you managed to make it to the end of this post without going what the f*%&, congrats.)
It always comes back to you...
Why did you have to set the bar so high?
I expect too much from people because of you.
It always has to come back to you, and you don't even realize it.
Even if I were to tell you to your face, you still wouldn't get it.
You are a gift to each life you touch. I hope one day you will see your full potential.
My mind holds on to so many memories. I wish I would have known in the simplicity of those moments,what it would mean to me now. Maybe I would have warned myself not to keep a place in my heart for you. Perhaps there would be room for someone else.
I expect too much from people because of you.
It always has to come back to you, and you don't even realize it.
Even if I were to tell you to your face, you still wouldn't get it.
You are a gift to each life you touch. I hope one day you will see your full potential.
My mind holds on to so many memories. I wish I would have known in the simplicity of those moments,what it would mean to me now. Maybe I would have warned myself not to keep a place in my heart for you. Perhaps there would be room for someone else.
OUCH, MY MOST OF ME.
So this is a rather personal and embarrassing topic to be writing about, but I believe that other women can learn from my mistakes. I have been commercially persuaded to purchase a product that did not to what it originally is intended for. Let this be a reminder that people in commercials are paid to pretend to enjoy a product.
Cut to woman in shower – using a hair removal product on her legs which appear to already be stubble free. Why would she be doing that anyway is my question. That should have been seen as a warning sign to not proceed.
I, being the product persuaded person that I am went out and bought this amazing time saver dealy. Oh the simplicity of not having to shave your legs, but simply apply a cream that will make it all disappear while you shower, oh the bliss. (Oh the nightmare.)
I applied said cream to my legs ignoring the warning that clearly states to “test product on small area of skin and wait 24 hours. If irritation occurs, do not use this product.” Pfft yeah right, who has time for that. I have hairy legs now and I want to get rid of it now, not 24 hours from now.
I figured that the tingling turning to stinging sensation was to be expected and continued on with the normal routine. Suddenly my routine turns pain induced panic and I wipe the crap off my legs as fast as humanly possible (also ignoring the warnings to NOT SCRUB the area. I didn’t want any trace of this crap left on my body.)
I step out of the shower and pat my legs dry, like I was told, hoping the worst was over. It wasn’t.
I now have a swollen painful rash all over my legs, resembling that of a lobstery skin feels like it is on fire. I am wearing a skirt and leggings. Everyone tells me I look great, but little do they know it’s the only thing I can wear that doesn’t cause a severe burning sensation to my calves.
Thank god I didn’t use this anywhere else on my body, I fear the pain would be too much to tolerate.
LESSON FOR TODAY: There is no easy way out. Take the 5 minutes to shave your damn legs moron.
Cut to woman in shower – using a hair removal product on her legs which appear to already be stubble free. Why would she be doing that anyway is my question. That should have been seen as a warning sign to not proceed.
I, being the product persuaded person that I am went out and bought this amazing time saver dealy. Oh the simplicity of not having to shave your legs, but simply apply a cream that will make it all disappear while you shower, oh the bliss. (Oh the nightmare.)
I applied said cream to my legs ignoring the warning that clearly states to “test product on small area of skin and wait 24 hours. If irritation occurs, do not use this product.” Pfft yeah right, who has time for that. I have hairy legs now and I want to get rid of it now, not 24 hours from now.
I figured that the tingling turning to stinging sensation was to be expected and continued on with the normal routine. Suddenly my routine turns pain induced panic and I wipe the crap off my legs as fast as humanly possible (also ignoring the warnings to NOT SCRUB the area. I didn’t want any trace of this crap left on my body.)
I step out of the shower and pat my legs dry, like I was told, hoping the worst was over. It wasn’t.
I now have a swollen painful rash all over my legs, resembling that of a lobstery skin feels like it is on fire. I am wearing a skirt and leggings. Everyone tells me I look great, but little do they know it’s the only thing I can wear that doesn’t cause a severe burning sensation to my calves.
Thank god I didn’t use this anywhere else on my body, I fear the pain would be too much to tolerate.
LESSON FOR TODAY: There is no easy way out. Take the 5 minutes to shave your damn legs moron.
Comon & Rescue Me!
A couple of weeks ago, I had a day. It snowed, I was ok with that. I was having a glorious day at work regardless and nothing could dampen the mood for me. No particular reason for my excessive happiness, just blissfully enjoying being alive. That’s allowed. Obviously some other power thought it wasn’t, and just to test my capabilities and tolerance I was given a rather interesting afternoon.
After work I finish brushing off the dusting of snow from the car (with an actual scraper might I add, not a credit card or some other object whose purpose was not originally intended for snow removal) when I notice I have an excessively flat tire. O.k. No biggie. Because of my dad, I know how to change a tire. So I get out the spare and begin hositing up the side of the car. Once I am all ready to go I realize that in the midst of my ability and ambition to change said tire, I had forgotten to loosen the nuts BEFORE the tire was off the ground. So, back to stage one. With a bit of a struggle, I manage, and again begin hoisting up the car. A couple of people from work offer to help but I decline because hello, I am superwoman after all. Just as I pull off the tire to replace it with the spare, my glasses fall off my face, into the snow, and I kneel on them. In one fluid motion, I manage to break my glasses right in half.
I now proceed to finish putting on the spare tire partially blind. (ok so it wasn’ t that bad, but glasses are meant for seeing. So when you don’t have them initially, it’s rather difficult.)
Content with what I had accomplished, I was ready to get rolling. Pack everything back in the car, am about to fire it up and I remember three things.
1. The tire exchange is closed
2. My dad’s birthday dinner is scheduled for...10 minutes ago
3. I cannot drive over 60 km on the spare, and have a half an hour of driving to do on the highway, which happens to also be covered in a blanket of snow.
I end up calling my dad, on the way to his own party to come and pick me up. Funny how most of these situations end with a phone call to my father. Lucky girl I am. I leave my car at work, have a great dinner, my eyes semi adjust without the glasses, and I have forgotten my dad’s birthday card in the car. Not even close to perfection, but it will have to do. Ironically the card I got for my dad says something along the lines of “Because of my dad I know what to do in every situation” inside reads “call dad.”
I have yet to give him the card.
FYI: I now have my new glasses on, and it is glorious. I actually needed new lenses but didn't have any money to buy them and because of this misfourtune, I ended up getting new ones (paid for by mum. thank you times a million, my headaches are gone.) The following day I also took my car to the tire exchange to have it replaced. Turns out the tire was never put on correctly in the first place, and I managed to get it repaired for free, because for the first time in my life I told them what I felt I deserved rather then getting pushed around.
Sometimes it takes longer, but most things happen to open the door to something else. I got a new pair of glasses and a moment of self assurance, so I would say this worked out pretty well for me all things considered.
After work I finish brushing off the dusting of snow from the car (with an actual scraper might I add, not a credit card or some other object whose purpose was not originally intended for snow removal) when I notice I have an excessively flat tire. O.k. No biggie. Because of my dad, I know how to change a tire. So I get out the spare and begin hositing up the side of the car. Once I am all ready to go I realize that in the midst of my ability and ambition to change said tire, I had forgotten to loosen the nuts BEFORE the tire was off the ground. So, back to stage one. With a bit of a struggle, I manage, and again begin hoisting up the car. A couple of people from work offer to help but I decline because hello, I am superwoman after all. Just as I pull off the tire to replace it with the spare, my glasses fall off my face, into the snow, and I kneel on them. In one fluid motion, I manage to break my glasses right in half.
I now proceed to finish putting on the spare tire partially blind. (ok so it wasn’ t that bad, but glasses are meant for seeing. So when you don’t have them initially, it’s rather difficult.)
Content with what I had accomplished, I was ready to get rolling. Pack everything back in the car, am about to fire it up and I remember three things.
1. The tire exchange is closed
2. My dad’s birthday dinner is scheduled for...10 minutes ago
3. I cannot drive over 60 km on the spare, and have a half an hour of driving to do on the highway, which happens to also be covered in a blanket of snow.
I end up calling my dad, on the way to his own party to come and pick me up. Funny how most of these situations end with a phone call to my father. Lucky girl I am. I leave my car at work, have a great dinner, my eyes semi adjust without the glasses, and I have forgotten my dad’s birthday card in the car. Not even close to perfection, but it will have to do. Ironically the card I got for my dad says something along the lines of “Because of my dad I know what to do in every situation” inside reads “call dad.”
I have yet to give him the card.
FYI: I now have my new glasses on, and it is glorious. I actually needed new lenses but didn't have any money to buy them and because of this misfourtune, I ended up getting new ones (paid for by mum. thank you times a million, my headaches are gone.) The following day I also took my car to the tire exchange to have it replaced. Turns out the tire was never put on correctly in the first place, and I managed to get it repaired for free, because for the first time in my life I told them what I felt I deserved rather then getting pushed around.
Sometimes it takes longer, but most things happen to open the door to something else. I got a new pair of glasses and a moment of self assurance, so I would say this worked out pretty well for me all things considered.
THAT MAKES ME WANT TO VOMIT...MEGAN FOX GIVE ME A BREAK.
Ok, normally I don't write about celebrities. I don't have the time or energy to care what they had for breakfast two weeks ago, or that they are preparing for their 8th divorce. But I seriously cannot help but comment on statements being made by Megan Fox. Most guys would likely know who I am talking about. I actually happen to have a non lesbian girl crush on this amazingly gorgeous human being. In my eyes, shes perfect. She has amazing style and a no bullshit attitude. I would do anything to be like her. (Sounds a bit soul selling and superficial, but we all have our moments. For me, this is one of those times.)
She was quoted to have said she feels like a transvestite with no self esteem, and that her "manly looks make her want to vomit." seriously, stop right there. If you are going to walk around with those looks and continue to complain like that, I am going to have to intervene. God forbid you would have to look like me miss Megan. I wouldn't want to hear what you would have to say about that.
I, like any other girl with a low level of self esteem can't even begin to imagine how someone with so much beauty could feel just as insecure about themselves. I always have the thought in the back of my mind that if i was beautiful all my problems would be solved. It is a bit dissapointing to find out that this may not be totally true. What can I blame my problems on now if not that! Help, I'm having a life moment.( a tiny ounce of sarcasm may be present here, but mostly because I don't want you to know that some of these thoughts may be true.)
Confession
I don't like shopping.
I bet some of you are in disagreement, so let me explain.
I like forced social interaction.
I enjoy walking around looking at shiny objects and being asked by the sales clerk if i need help. Yeah I need help, but not the kind you can give me, but thanks for asking, your forced interaction with me as a customer is enough.
I like to buy ideas.
I have no money, but I appreacite being able to accumulate material objects if they are on sale. If I do buy something its likely because I am buying an idea that I will later want to replicate (and end up never doing so.) I am very craft oriented and see a project in most things. Micheals is a death trap for me, I have a time limit set most of the time before I enter.
I can't stand large masses of people who are easily distracted.
Going into Costco is my own personal hell. The only time I enter such a facility is when I have a list. Who goes to costco to browse? It's a place of wholesale, so im suggesting you do not impulse buy anything unless you want three or more of them.
I am easily overwhelmed.
For most shopping is a relaxing way to spend the afternoon. For me, its a challenge. I often have to hold onto other people to walk and look at something at the same time. My multitasking abilities dissapear and I am swallowed in a sea of people and slowly become blind and deaf. Forms of communication become obsolete and I am left to die a slow painful retail death. (ok so its not that bad, but how else can i explain it? you're not in my head.)
I never get what I came for.
I go in to find a pair of pants and I come out with fake flowers and a dress. I get home and still have no pants. What part of that is a good time?
I bet some of you are in disagreement, so let me explain.
I like forced social interaction.
I enjoy walking around looking at shiny objects and being asked by the sales clerk if i need help. Yeah I need help, but not the kind you can give me, but thanks for asking, your forced interaction with me as a customer is enough.
I like to buy ideas.
I have no money, but I appreacite being able to accumulate material objects if they are on sale. If I do buy something its likely because I am buying an idea that I will later want to replicate (and end up never doing so.) I am very craft oriented and see a project in most things. Micheals is a death trap for me, I have a time limit set most of the time before I enter.
I can't stand large masses of people who are easily distracted.
Going into Costco is my own personal hell. The only time I enter such a facility is when I have a list. Who goes to costco to browse? It's a place of wholesale, so im suggesting you do not impulse buy anything unless you want three or more of them.
I am easily overwhelmed.
For most shopping is a relaxing way to spend the afternoon. For me, its a challenge. I often have to hold onto other people to walk and look at something at the same time. My multitasking abilities dissapear and I am swallowed in a sea of people and slowly become blind and deaf. Forms of communication become obsolete and I am left to die a slow painful retail death. (ok so its not that bad, but how else can i explain it? you're not in my head.)
I never get what I came for.
I go in to find a pair of pants and I come out with fake flowers and a dress. I get home and still have no pants. What part of that is a good time?
I am easily affected by my environment.
Going into superstore is intoxicating and sobering at the same time. I get a yellow infused migraine after 0.5 seconds. Flowers and Chocolates and fluffy shit line the aisle. I am suddenly overwhelmed with a product placement induced need for companionship and chocolate.
All that aside, i really need this ring. Totally out of context but thats how i roll.
Bleck
So I have been feeling pretty under the weather lately. Enough so to have to take the week off from work. I am hopeful to say that I am now on the mend, although im afraid that my invisibility may be wearing a little thin.When one is not feeling well, they do not concern themselves with how they look, simply because most of their focus is put towards feeling better on the inside. My comfort comes in the form of a pink, fluffy, frilly housecoat with my nickname on it. My grandma, mum and I made it, and when i put it on it makes me feel better.
So after spending the week at my parents house to repair the damages of my broken little heart (literally) I hop into the car with cat and dog in tow and head for home. Not thinking twice about the pink housecoat and polka dot pink pajamas that are encompassing my body.
As I sing along to the radio, cat and dog both looking out the window I notice a camera crew. A whole lot of them. As I sit and wait for my turn at the 4 way stop, I realize that I am in fact on camera. They are videotaping me in all my sickly glory. So much for being anonymously and invisibly sick. Hello World. I give you Lisa, at her best. Pink housecoat and all.
Please let me know if I appear on your television screen in the near future. I would like to see what they have to say about my fashion statement. Warning: If you suddenly see a bunch of women in their mid 20's rocking pink housecoats, do not be alarmed. Its just the next trend I have started by accident. Happens all the time, no big deal, no need to stare. Move along.
Study this image thoroughly as it is the newest attire to hit the streets of....Shawnigan Lake.