Why budgeting is important… but definitely not fun.

Money and budgeting and I have never been on great terms.


Budgeting and my husband however? The best of friends.

My relationship with money had always been a precarious one. Either I was reckless and ridiculous or hyper sensitive to the thought of owing money I didn’t have. Money was to be spent and sort of saved if there was nothing good at the mall or online.



Money and Budgeting and I finally formally met when I got married to my saint of a husband. When my first student loan payment was demanded from me. And suddenly all the days of carefree spending were finished.


We had bought a home. We had a mortgage. I had student loan payments and now with our combined homes we had two cars, two insurance payments to pay each month. And suddenly after mapping out my monthly budget, my extra frivolities went out the window. And this hurt.



We had grown up money responsibilities. And my attitude to money was fairly juvenile.


I had a really negative relationship with it. I was miserable. I hated that I had to budget. I bemoaned the fact that I wasn’t rich. I would cry out, “BUT I WOULD BE THE BEST RICH PERSON! I WOULD GIVE A BUNCH OF MY MONEY AWAY!” as if that were justification for all my wreck less spending desires.
The other realization was that I was going to have to start saving for my future. At 24 you think you’ll live forever. Putting away money that you won’t be touching until you are old? BIZARRE. But also terrifying to think of what would happen if I didn’t!


But as the years passed and I started learning to budget and then seeing the rewards like yearly tropical vacations and being able to help people out financially and more I was amazed at this feeling I had. This feeling of…accomplishment and pride. Suddenly I didn’t want to burn through our money.





Needless to say my budget-loving husband was joyful.

So while I may miss my days of wreckless spending when I was young and naive – I am glad to know that when I am old and grey I won’t be dependent on a piggy bank with 4 quarters in it.
And that’s a good feeling.

Why plans I make rarely work out.

October 16 2010 is the year that I married my amazing husband. We have been together 5 awesome years and I seriously fall in love with him more and more each year. This year we decided that we wanted to do something special for our five years.
We found something called ‘Theatre in the Country’ – dinner and a play! It seemed SO fun and we were stoked!


Until they called us the night before our anniversary to tell us the following.


I guess theatre in the country is not as popular as one would have hoped.

So my husband being the romantic man that he is decided that we would go to the restaurant that we got engaged at! How romantic and perfect! Plus the restaurant was at the top of a mountain and you get to take a tram ride up and there is a bear enclosure and more! It’s a very cool place and we remembered the food being AMAZING (if not insanely overpriced).

Earlier in the week I had gone to the store to find the perfect card for my husband. Every single year prior I would get a super romantic, sappy card for him and he would get me a funny card. It was great. This year I decided to get a HILARIOUS card to best him!


We arrived at the restaurant in seats that were not stellar. Oh well, the sun was already down we didn’t mind. Then they brought out our portions of food.



Then it was time to exchange our gifts and cards. I handed my husband his card and eagerly awaited.


I felt vindicated. Then it was my turn.






Yep. He got me the most beautiful and heartfelt card I’ve read in forever. And I got him one that made a joke about nerds. Oh gosh.

We decided to go for a drive after our dinner where we both discussed a very important topic that was weighing on our minds.



My husband decided to surprise me by taking me to the ghost train in Stanley Park. For those of you unfamiliar- Its a minature train that takes groups around the park where there are spooky actors being creepy. Because I was so excited I insisted on lots of selfies (cringe).


It started out really well! The costumes and props were really fun. It was all building to what I believed would be a wonderful crescendo of horror (even though my husband was half asleep from boredom).


Except it didn’t.


The train merely picked up speed and then drove through a forest of eyes painted on large blocks of wood.


On our drive home I couldn’t help but observe the many pitfalls that had occured during our special five year anniversary day.





So no, nothing turned out like it was supposed to. But you know what?

That’s okay.

Why October season as an adult is awesome

Ahhhh October, my favorite time of the year. Christmas you can keep your snow. Summer you can have your blazing heat. Give me clear cool crisp sunny October days anytime. October means Halloween and costumes and fun and joy. And the fun doesn’t have to stop when you’re a kid – oh no, October is still awesome as an adult. Want proof? Read below.

Why October is still great when you’re an adult

1. October as an adult means delicious seasonal meals that you get to choose – because you’re an adult! Gone are the days of the meatloaf you despised- now you can pick your own happy October-themed menu! (Mine consists of one food group; carbs.)


On the subject of food – you also get to see and buy AMAZING SEASONAL FOOD ITEMS! Like, “Boo Berry” cereal. Did anyone else know that was a thing in Canada? I didn’t! I’m still on the hunt for this eluside Frank-N-Berry!


2. October as an adult means buying Halloween Candy for Trick or Treaters but being real about its ultimate fate.


3. October means getting to watch all the awesome Halloween Shows WHENEVER YOU WANT because digital downloading exists – Wanna watch Hocus Pocus at 3:00AM on a Thursday? NO WORRIES. You can rent it on Youtube for $3.99! Plus you can watch all the AMAZING Halloween shows that you weren’t allowed to watch as kids, or wouldn’t be if you were a kid now (New season of American Horror Story, I’m looking at you…and LOVING YOU).

4. October has the kind of days where you can bundle up in awesomely *fashionable layered outfits that you NEVER got to pick out as a kid because you’re mom probably dressed you. (Or was that just me?)


(*depending on your definition of fashionable)

5. October as an adult means sitting super close to a fire (because no one says you can’t) and getting hypnotized by its crackling, flickering beauty. Does anyone else wonder if they suffer from suppressed pyromania?


6. October as an adult is Decorating your Home in preparation for Trick R Treaters or just decking it out because YOU CAN. I lived in a condo last year. It was boring and we weren’t allowed to put anything on our doors. This year? New home with a FRONT DOOR and a WALKWAY that leads to my ADORABLE FRONT STOOP! I’ve already started decorating the s&^t out of it.


7. October as an adult means you get to actually SEE all the cool costumes people are coming out with! It also means getting to die of cuteness overload when adorable kids come to your house to trick or treat. (Seriously, I saw a child dressed up as a miniature Harry Potter last year. He was no more than 1 years old. He couldn’t even speak, let alone read JK Rowling’s masterpieces. Didn’t matter. He was so cute I nearly passed out. ) Shout out to parents who dress their infant children in ADORABLE costumes just so I can awkwardly “awwwww” at them!


8. Speaking of which October as an adult means that you GET the work that goes into trick or treating as a child. The long walks, the heavy bags of candy, the unseasonable weather (it always seems to rain on Halloween here). Then you trudge up to a house and knock excitedly, crowing out a joyful “Trick or Treat!” only to be handed a sad little box of raisins? NOT ON MY WATCH. Those kids are getting buckets of candy from me! Their work will NOT be in vain!


10. October as an adult means buying and breaking out AWESOME hats! Because they make them for all ages! (This is what I’m telling myself) Plus there are very cute and mature head scarves if wearing a giant owl face on top of your head isn’t for you.


11. October as an adult means going out on Halloween to the haunted houses around town- either to be scared or just admire all the cool decorations. Or just enjoying a walk in the crisp, October air hearing all the excited kids run around and just enjoying the tradition. And also pretending you’re a vampire. Again, that may just be me.


12. October as an adult means getting to wear FUN, creative costumes that YOU enjoy. Not dressing up in what you think you’re supposed to wear.


(Note: if you like dressing up as a sexy cat and are doing it for you, more power to you). But if they put the word “sexy” in front of one more inanimate object, I am going to hurl. Halloween Items I have seen the following “sexy” costumes – “Sexy Traffic cone, Sexy Ebola Nurse, Sexy Hulk Hogan, Sexy Pizza, Sexy Corn-On-the-Cob, Sexy Bin Laden.” Yes, ALL those costumes exist. Feel free to google and then weep for humanity.

It also means that you get to dress up your pets because you either a.) have no children or b.) think it’s funny or c.) both. I know, you think I’m insane. You have a point. But if you could see Gizmo trying to handle the fact that he’s in a bee costume, you’d understand.


13. Lastly, October as an adult means starting your own traditions – so do an annual scary movie night! A yearly Corn Maze trip! It has been a tradition in my home since we got married, that every year my husband and I to go to a pumpkin patch together, pick out the perfect pumpkin, bring it home and each of us carves one half.


This is what it usually looks like.


October is just beautiful (our combined pumpkin carving however, not so much) so don’t fret about being an adult in October- the possibilities for fun are endless!


Why my Mom is really awesome

So my husband has been travelling a LOT on business which you all know I hate. But such is life and so when he leaves for business I sometimes head to my Mom and Stepdad’s for a few days and get spoiled with attention and delicious dinners.

On my last sojourn to their place, I was struck by how funny my mom is. I mean, I know she’s funny, but on this last trip my cheeks hurt from laughing. Most is not translate-able into cartoons, but I thought I would share some beautiful moments shared between my mother and I during a particularly stressful drive to downtown Vancouver.

My mom and I love appetizers. Especially nachos. But not this time. Denny’s Vancouver, you have disappointed us.


(It did look like baby poop!)

Sometimes I get disturbed when my Mom rants. Not because she rants about stupid things (BECAUSE $11.55 for 2 MEASLY HOURS OF PARKING IS RIDICULOUS) Its mostly because I feel like I’m looking to a mirror of what I will become in 30 short years. And its sort of frightening.


My mom likes a good deal. Even when those ‘Good Deals’ are $3 leather pants she found at a store going out of business.


Driving downtown with my Mom is a full on nightmare. Mainly because a.) We both HATE driving downtown and b.) We are both anxious individuals when in stressful situations. So when you put the two of us in a car and try to get us somewhere downtown its a nightmare. Anxiety fuels anxiety.




My mom is like me; she loves talking to strangers and they love talking right back. But sometimes when in public she does this really loud laugh and then she says stuff that makes me cringe.


And my personal favorite quote of the visit:


And while my Mom may embarass me sometimes (as parents are prone to do) and even though she and I may disagree on some things, we will always agree that taking photos of her in front of posters downtown during our very stressful outing is one of the best things ever.


Thanks for being awesome, Mom. You’re seriously so cool and fun and hilarious to talk to and every year you become more and more my friend and mentor along with being my Mom. Don’t know how I got lucky enough for you to be my Mom, but man am I ever glad I did.



Why Moving is Nothing like the Movies

Guys, before I start this blog I just wanted to say one thing:

I know its been SO EFFING LONG since I last updated the blog and I feel terrible about it! Its been such an insane summer – moving, seeing family, starting new jobs, and more and the blog has sort of been pushed to the side! I swear I will be more regular!
Onto today’s topic. MOVING.
I’ll be real with you. Everytime my husband and I embark on a new phase of life, I just sort of assume that it’ll be like something out of a Nora Ephron film. I see montages of adorable things happening and then reality hits and its nothing like I expected. Sort of like the following.


















Yeah, its true. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but with the right partner even the worst experiences have glimmers of joy.

Why having a colonoscopy was funny for everyone but me

So, I went for a colonoscopy last week. It was a surreal and not something I wish to repeat. Good news is – results came back normal! Yay! But the whole experience was not really fun at all. And since I googled a lot of “What will happen for a colonoscopy” and got nothing but scary things like, “Bring a TV into your washroom the day before” and “It will hurt” I thought I’d make this little cartoon of my experience (which was not that bad at all! Just mostly humiliating).
Firstly, I was not able to eat the entire day before surgery (and the morning of). Needless to say, Mama was hungry.

Then, while I was starving and miserable they gave me this stuff called Picolax. You can google what that stuff does. Or you can have my condensed version: You poop until you literally have nothing left inside you. At all. Then you poop some more.

I figured that everyone was being a giant baby. I drank the Picolax drink and was like, “Pffft, this tastes fine. I do not know what everyone is freaking out about.”

Little did I know.

So that was my entire day. It was a weird time.
The next morning, I feel the need to DRESS NICELY FOR MY COLONOSCOPY. For real. Who does that? I wear my best nautical themed dress with a cute belt. Obviously I am very nervous. My husband sees that and tries to distract me to no avail. I just keep looking around at all the people in the hospital waiting room. They look miserable. I assume they are also hungry.

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All of a sudden my name is called. I jump out of the seat and in a hurry the nurse tells my husband that he can pick me up in two hours. I ask if he can come in with me. She shakes her head because OF COURSE NOT. So in this confusion my husband takes my purse heads for the car and I head in with the nurse.

Then I realize he didn’t give me a kiss goodbye and I have no way to contact him. AND WHAT IF I DON’T MAKE IT?! So I’m tired, scared and now want to cry because I am ALL OVER THE MAP.

I get put into a room with 4 other people. All of whom are sleeping. I am looking into my future.
The same nurse tells me to change into those gross hospital gowns and relax on the bed under the blanket. I try not to think of how many people have died under this same blanket. I count ceiling tiles until she returns. My companions snore on.
She returns and has to give me a needle to put the saline in (and later the drugs that will put me in a ‘Twilight’ sleep. Which is basically truth serum.) She can see that I am terrified. Please remember guys, a camera is going up my butt. The fear is real.

After promising me that she is a ‘sharpshooter’ when it comes to veins, she digs around in my right arm for a good three minutes. No good. She moves to my right. I assure her that I will not think any less of her. She seems amused.


Suddenly a new nurse arrives named Mary. Mary is no nonsense but she takes pity on my scared face and talks me through as the saline starts pumping into my veins. I screech, “IS MY ARM SUPPOSED TO BE COLD?” and she smiles, nods and explains why. I feel I can trust Mary.

That is until I am wheeled into the ‘Operating Room’ or whatever it’s called. Its freezing and more people are there, welcoming me like an old friend back from sea. I can feel my heart start to jump and realize I have been my version of calm up until this point.
It is now that I start to panic.

Mary comes to the side of the bed, positioning me on my side and moving my arm so the tubes don’t get caught. I can see them injecting the drugs into my tube and am suddenly seized with the horrible feeling that I won’t make it out of this experience alive. They’ve put the oxygen mask on my face, likely to stop me from talking.

I start subtly moving about, trying to ask questions when suddenly I feel as if someone is holding my head against the table. (I realized later, this was what the drugs feel like; immense pressure in my head).

Suddenly my vision becomes very blurry. All my trust is gone for Mary. I assume in my stupor that she is holding down my head forcefully so I start calling out to her, heartbroken at her perceived betrayal.


I wake up a while later. I do not remember one single thing from my procedure. Not one. I have a moment of horror and wonder if I am a horrible secret racist or just a jerk under sedation. No one comments on that, so I assume I am in the clear.
I call out confused and raise myself until I am sitting on the edge of the bed. The tubes are out of my arm and I feel very, very tired and confused. All I want to do is go home and sleep in my own bed.

Mary is less patient with me now. Likely because I screamed her name in an accusatory manner right before passing out. I can hear my husband’s voice and I quickly get dressed after eating my juice and cookies. I hate apple juice, but at that moment, it is sweet nectar.
The nurse explains that due to my complaining during the procedure (which I do NOT remember), they had to give me more sedative than normal so I may be out of it for a bit. I stumble into my husband’s arms and he guides me out into the parking lot. I decide that this is the perfect place to catch a few Z’s.

He loads me into the car and I am understandably starving.


When I am denied my very reasonable request, I realize I have a missed message. Someone from work needs some information. I attempt to phone them, blearily trying to press the number keys on my phone before my husband takes my phone from me.


I then catch myself in the rearview mirror and find that I look like garbage. I feel I must rectify this immediately.




After I have been taken inside to the bed I made for myself on the couch before we left, I feel suddenly very concerned about my belt. I try again to call my work but my husband insists I give him a play-by-play of what I will say.


I should add that I have never in my entire life worked with someone named Shiela. Ever.
I do not make the call.

This happens 3 times over the course of an hour. I am convinced more than once that my belt has been stolen by someone at the hospital.


My mom and stepdad arrive at our place then, taking over for my husband who has to return to work. Walter decides to pour himself some juice, but I become concerned.

And then, just to make it worse I forget that I already have lipstick on and try to put more on. I am very frustrated and angry when people ignore my request.


Over and over and over. Then I got mad and went back to sleep on the couch. That day is a blur. I barely remember any of it happening. But just in case I forget, my husband lovingly recorded a lot of it for me to look back and reference. What a guy. In case you’re wondering what happened for the next 24-48 hours; it was this.


 So, if you’re afraid of having a colonoscopy, I totally get it.  But I for one had an okay experience – everyone is different, don’t assume that your experience will be awful! And If colon cancer runs in your family, or your doctor suggests that you need a colonoscopy – please don’t put it off. It could save your life!

Why living back at home wasn’t actually the worst

Hello my lovely readers!

I’m sorry I’ve been out of commission for so long!

As you know, our condo was sold and our move in date to our new home was a month out. So we stayed with my Mom and Stepdad for the month of June. I won’t lie, I thought it would be not great. I figured with my husband and I stuck in one small room with our bed and computer shoved in we would have an awful time.

And we totally didn’t!

I mean the room was small and the weather was SO FREAKING HOT. But aside from that, it actually exceeded my expectations. Along with labelling my cereal so that it resembled something funny (see previous entry), my Mom and Stepdad are the sweetest people alive.

But since I look at the negative in EVERYTHING, I figured that as soon as we moved in, my Mom and I would have a dynamic similar to this..


But more often than not, it was this:


With my stepdad, he’s a talker. He loves to talk and most of the time, so do I. But after long or miserable days at work, I expected to be ambushed like this:


But instead, it was like living at a Mexican resort.


The other major hurdle I expected to go through was…the Dreaded Baby Talk. I am rapidly approaching 30 and LOTS of people are doing the not so subtle – “So when are you having kids?” which only bugs me sometimes. I figured my Mom would take a less subtle approach.


Instead she was remarkably cool.


If I’m honest, the only one to give me grief about having kids was my STEPDAD. He waited until I was eating breakfast with my Mom and couldn’t get away and the conversation went thusly

Walter: “So, let’s get to it. When are you having kids?”

Me: *chokes on eggs* “Huh?”

Walter: “Kids. Are you having them? If so, when?”

Me: “Uh… I dunno. We’re thinking of going to Vegas for my 30th in November…maybe after that?”

Walter: “Aww c’mon, there’s always going to be trips!”

Me: “Uh, yep.”

Walter is silent a moment, thinking, looking very upset.

Walter: “Well fine. If you’re not having kids, your Mother and I are moving up North.”

My Mom, who has been silent this whole time starts laughing. Loudly.

Mom: “What the-? This is news to me!”

Mom and I start laughing and Walter grumbles about me and my husband always travelling while he does the dishes.

My Mom and I still mock him about it to this day.

He has since recanted on his threat of moving if I don’t have kids.

So while my Mom has been really cool about the no kids thing, I did stumble upon some strange things in the house.


No for real.

Those things were found in her possession.

Please understand that no one else in my family is even close to having kids.

So aside from that creepy little number, living with my Mom and Walt was actually awesome. I kind of miss them if I’m honest. Sometimes our new place feels too big and too quiet without some vaguely confusing remark from my Stepdad or my Mom’s braying laughter after we have discovered one of her “Cereal” jokes.

Gizmo misses them too, but he doesn’t want to admit it.

Why there’s been no cartoons!

Hello to all my lovely readers!
You’ve probably been going, “Where the heck is Katelyn? I was promised badly drawn cartoons with a humorous slant!”
I promise I will be back with those shortly!

My husband and I moved out of our condo at the end of May. Our new townhome wasn’t ready until the start of July. So we spent the month of June staying in a bedroom at my Mom’s place until our new home was ready. As a snapshot of what living with my Mom and Stepdad is like, here is some photographic documentation.


Yes. My mom did this to every box of cereal we brought into the house. Then she went out and bought some just so she could write more funny things on them. It was awesome.
We moved a few days ago into our new bigger place (I HAVE MY OWN ART STUDIO GUYS! FOR REAL!) As soon as we are settled in, the cartoons will be back I promise! 🙂 In the meantime, I thank you so much for your patience and your continued support of the blog.

With affection,

29 things that strike me as Odd or Nice PART 2

A continuation from my PREVIOUS ENTRY Part 1. I hope you enjoy it! Even if you don’t, just pretend!

29 things that strike me as Odd or Nice Part 2

11. Leaving one single bite of food on my plate [Odd]

I never knew I did this until my husband and I went travelling with our Travel BFF’s and the wife randomly noticed my odd eating habit. Plus she would find random pieces of food (like the bottom of a muffin, or a half-drank soda) and just shake her head because she is a true friend and loves me despite my many food-based shortcomings. SHOUT OUT TO FRIENDS WHO DON’T JUDGE YOUR BAD LIFE DECISIONS.



12. Being Nice to Others [Nice]

One of my jobs involves working with a fellow with a disability. He is hilarious and sweet and needs help with some things you or I would take for granted. Last week we had a major breakthrough during our shift and I was literally on Cloud 9 for DAYS. I was overjoyed for my client and it spilled into my everyday life. I found that in those days following I had so much more love in my heart I would just start doing nice things for random people everywhere I went trying to spread this joyful feeling around. People I helped noticed and were touched (and some, afraid). Spreading joy feels awesome. If you haven’t done it, I suggest you do.



13. A desire for Snappy Comebacks [Odd]

You know my pain. I know you do. Someone says something annoying, offensive, etc and it takes you by SUCH surprise that you cannot even fathom what you would say in response until two hours later when you are replaying the conversation over in your head as you drive, gesturing wildly as you coast down the freeway getting angrier by the second. I wish when people asked me dumb questions I could have something witty to retort on the spot.


14. Things that are on sale [Nice]

When I find something that I like or really want and it is marked down in price, I get a feeling like my heart is doing the can-can. When a sale comes up and I don’t even know about it until I get to the till, I can barely even contain my glee. Once I walked into a store and didn’t know they were having a 50% off sale until I went to pay. It was the BEST SHOPPING EXPERIENCE EVER. It’s the little things in life.


15. Not having Dairy [Odd]

Okay, I know there are worse things in the world. You don’t need to tell me. But for real, I MISS DAIRY. It’s only been two weeks since I cut it out of my diet (KINDA) because know what? DAIRY IS IN EVERYTHING I LIKE!


They sneak it into stuff that you wouldn’t think about! Even salad dressing! And going out for dinner used to be one of my favorite things but now when we go everything I like has dairy so I get really bummed out.




16. Feeling Young [Nice]

At my other job, I work with seniors. Like for real seniors, some over 100. They are the sweetest people alive and in a really selfish way, they boost my ego on a daily basis. Every time I walk down the halls they say to me; “Oh you are so beautiful!” and “Oh you’re so young you have so much time!” or “Look at that hair! Gorgeous!” Even on days when I look like garbage that’s been left out for days. They are so genuinely sweet and kind and I bet they don’t even realize how much their words brighten my day (even though I tell them!)

On the other hand, I guess it’s sad that I need seniors citizens to make me feel young.

17. My weird attachment to Authors [Odd]

There have been two times I’ve missed work when I haven’t been sick. Once was when JD Salinger died and once was when Ray Bradbury died. These are authors whose work has genuinely touched my life at different times. When I read Catcher in the Rye I am 17 again, going “Holden Caulfield GETS me” (like most people at 17 believe). I believe that books partly shape us into the people we become. Authors are like magicians, they can weave this amazing world you can get lost in. That holds a lot of nostalgia and tenderness for those books and times. So when they die, I guess I feel like an old friend is suddenly gone. Please don’t ask me why I thought missing work would help, because all I did was lock myself in the bedroom, read their books and cry because I would never get to meet them. Yeah, I definitely believed I would meet them. What would we talk about? Good question. All I know is that when Stephen King dies, I am going to be a WRECK because those books WERE my life for a really long time!

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18. People who still use the ‘R’ word. [Odd]

If you use this word on purpose, even as a joke, I hate you a little bit.

It’s 2015.

For real. Get your life together.

19. Being too Sensitive [Nice]

I was going to list this under Odd, but you know what? I think it’s nice that I’m sensitive. And sentimental. I think it’s nice that I have a box of movie ticket stubs and mementos from my years with my husband. I think it’s nice that I have the agenda my Dad used to write in for work. I like that I am there for my friends and sensitive to their needs. I think it’s because I have a tender heart and I don’t think a tender heart is a bad thing at all!

Unless a tender heart is a sign of congenital heart disease. Then I’m screwed.

20. When people don’t find the same things funny as me [Odd]
You know when you show someone something on YouTube that you literally almost died laughing from and then they don’t laugh and you are simultaneously embarrassed and also super pissed off and also want to punch them super hard? No? That’s just me? Oh okay.









Okay, I know I still have to go to 29 but you’ll have to wait for Installment 3 for the rest! I like installments. It means I’m not rushing through, plus it’s like a series! Fun! Speaking of donating (see how I snuck that in?) if you are enjoying my blog and are feeling generous, I am just gonna leave the donate link HERE.

It goes to operational costs and to me because I do all this for free JUST to make YOU laugh! Aren’t I nice?

Why I am miserable (kind of)

So, this title is pretty misleading because as I type this I am not miserable. I am tired and cranky, but if I’m real, I’m tired and cranky a lot.

But some miserable things happened this week (which are complete First World Problems) and since blogs are about letting out inner thoughts and feelings, that’s what I’m gonna do.

Firstly, I SUCK at returning facebook messages and I feel like a HUMAN GARBAGE PAIL about it. Like, someone messages me a month ago, I forget about it thinking ‘I will respond to this’ and then I forget and I look like a HUGE JERK-FACE.

Secondly, we are moving into a bigger place. Our move-out/move-in dates didn’t coincide, so my husband, cat and I are living with my Mom and Stepdad for a month. They’re literally the COOLEST parental units. I am just not stoked at commuting, paying the toll every day and genuinely being away from a ton of my friends and social contacts! Plus all my art supplies are packed away so I feel weird.

And everyone goes, “It’s only a month!”

Uh, yeah. I can read a calendar. Still not stoked about it.

And if I’m honest, I am a VERY sentimental person! I keep looking at our little condo and getting super sad that we are leaving. Its full of memories -and a lot of them good! I look at the threshold that my husband carried me over on our wedding day. I look at the artroom/office/everything room and remember hurriedly making a ton of orders for Christmas. Everywhere I look holds memories of the life we have built so far and I get sentimental about it.

It doens’t mean I don’t want to move – it just means I have emotions.

But everytime I try to just tell people how I feel, everyone jumps on me and goes: “But you know you’ll LOVE you new bigger place! That will feel like home in no time!”


Of course I will.

But I’m really bummed I’m leaving what was my home for 5 years. Let me be sad about it. Its okay to be sad for five seconds. Its called being a non-robot. Seriously, try it once in a while. Its okay. Its like people are not comfortable with any emotion that isn’t jubilant elation. I don’t get it.
And now a bunch of our furniture is gone so it looks less like our home and more like where a serial killer lures his victims.


Then because we won’t have our kitchen for much longer, I decide I want to make RUM BALLS because YES, they are in fact the BEST THING EVER.


So I get all the ingredients together and start and then realize..oh right. I need to grab Rum. You know, the INGREDIENT THAT IS IN THE TITLE? And even though rum and cokes are my favorite drink, guess what’s not in our cupboard?



(I warned you. First World Problems).

Then I Netflixed binged on a bunch of my favorite cancelled shows and I went to a really dark place.


And then on Sunday I decided to NOT be a lazy slob and my husband and I did a lot of walking. We had dinner plans that evening with friends so we rushed up to the apartment. And the following happened as we were getting on the elevator.



So the entire night was garbage because a.) I was REALLY excited about having dinner with our friends b.) We have to wait a bunch of weeks to even get the keys BACK from the elevator shaft and c.) . Even though the locksmith was really nice and has a semi-famous daughter (which he proudly showed me on his phone) I was not stoked that we blew $150 bucks to have someone let us into our condo to grab my back up set of keys. Because for real. I think it took him like maybe 3 minutes but we had to pay the weekend rate.

And I think if I’m really honest with myself, I think the thing that made me most miserable is that I’ve been having a lot of digestive issues and my new doctor (that was 30 minutes late for our first appointment and didn’t even acknowledge it) told me to cut out dairy. And I think my look when she said that was something akin to this:

Guys. I live for cheese. Like, it’s a problem.

I went to the grocery store and PANICKED because I do NOT know what cooking is without dairy! Its in EVERYTHING! So I just left my grocery cart in the middle of an aisle and walked home crying because I was imagining a future without cheese and I could NOT deal.
So between lack of rum balls, moving, premature show cancellations, husband dropping keys down elevator shaft and NO EFFING DAIRY I am feeling less than chipper.

So that’s my miserable post. I hope it made you smile and not miserable! If it DID make you miserable, I promise that my next one won’t! (I hope) It will be Part 2 to my epic; 29 things that strike me as Odd but Nice.

Lastly but MOST importantly– There is a very bright spot in my miserable week: I have had a BUNCH of new followers and subscribers to the blog which makes my withered blackened heart jump with joy! Thank you to my loyal readers for enjoying the horror that is sometimes my life!