Latest Loves

Hello, you!

I wanted to take some time today and chat you through some of the makeup bits I've been particularly enjoying lately. 

Firstly, this perfume was a gift from my lovely boyfriend for Christmas. It's BonBon by Victor & Rolf. 

You can find this perfume in Canada at The Bay ($120/50ml).

As someone who didn't particularly enjoy the scent of Victor and Rolf's "Flowerbomb," I'll admit I was skeptical upon unwrapping this. The packaging is absolutely darling, and it would have been a shame if I had disliked it. Thankfully, I love the scent, and get compliments on it all the time! Despite the name, the scent is not too sweet or young for me. It's the right balance of sweet and slightly floral. I feel like it suits my personality and style, while maintaining it's age-appropriateness. And... it's obvious how much I love the stuff -- it's been less than 4 months and I'm over halfway through the bottle!

The next things I've been loving are my nail base and topcoat. I picked these up on a whim while wandering around in WalMart. I had been doing without a base or topcoat at all and was getting tired of having to paint my nails every other day because I have this thing about chipped nail polish where it drives me crazy. I cannot stand chipped nails. My nails are chipped a bit as a write this and all I want to do is take my polish off and start over. 

The thing I think I love most about the duo of Revlon's Quick Dry Base Coat and Sally Hansen's Diamond Strength Flash Topcoat is the speed of it. The base dries to a slightly tacky finish in under a minute. I have tried leaving it to dry longer, but the tacky feeling never quite goes away (believe me, I have let this sit on my nails for an hour or more just to test!). The topcoat, although not hailed as any kind of quick-dry substance, seems to set very quickly as well. I would say that it takes about 5 minutes all-told for the topcoat to set completely. Finally, even after 5 or more days of wear, my nail polish still looks pretty good. The topcoat keeps it "just had my nails done" shiny -- it almost gives a gel-like finish. As well, the white colour of the base coat is preventing my nails from getting stained with polish colours. 

As a heads up, should you decide to give this pairing a shot, I find that my BarryM, Nails Inc., and Zoya polishes last the longest, and that OPI and Essie polishes still chip within one or two days. Apparently nothing is going to stop those brands from flaking off on me like crazy. First world problems, am I right?

Next up, a cheek gel from Pixi that I managed to scout during the insane Canadian Target fail sale. I found a couple of really excellent bargains that day, and this was one of them. The shade is "neutral" and it is unfortunately showing up as darker and more red-toned on camera than it is in reality. The actual colour is more of a midtone brown-pink that I think would suit most skin tones. 

This cheek gel is amazing for those of us who are constantly rushing to put makeup on in the morning. I, for one, never have more than 30 minutes to get ready and get out the door to my transit stop. This cheek gel stops me from looking tired and lifeless. It blends easily and does not budge once it sets. You can also take your time with this product, as it doesn't dry very quickly as you dot it on your face. You can blend it with your fingers, or use a sponge. I'm loving the finish it gives when I use my BeautyBlender. I'll try it with a brush and let you know how I get along with it that way. Since it's a gel, the colour payoff is pretty sheer -- almost like a watercolour blush. It gives enough colour that you know there's something there, but not so much that you look like a clown. Don't be discouraged by the tiny package, either. A little goes a long, long way with this!! The first time I tried it, I think I squeezed enough out of the tube for 3 people. Whoops!

Next is my skin-combo of the moment. I've been loving working with my NARS Copacabana liquid illuminator, MAC Studio Fix Foundation in NC20, and Body Shop Tea Tree BB Cream.

To begin with, both of these foundation shades are pretty far off my skin tone. The NC20 from Mac is too orange for my liking (despite that "C" is supposed to indicate cool-toned-ness), and the BB cream is too pale. The next shade up was too dark, so I'm choosing to mix. I combine these three products on my hand before stippling them onto my skin with my BeautyBlender (which, by the way, is the best sponge of my life). The NARS illuminator gives a gorgeous, awake-and-ready-for-anything glow to the otherwise flat effect of the foundations. I find MAC Studio Fix gives great coverage, which I like, but it comes off looking cakey and lifeless on my face. This combats that! The BB Cream from the Body Shop has Tea Tree oil, which helps keep breakouts at bay, and is a thinner, more moisturizing consistency than the Mac foundation. paired together, these two give good, medium-to-heavy coverage, which I adore, and they don't look cakey or fake, which the NARS illuminator helps with a whole lot. 

I'm curious to know if there is a foundation out there that will suit my skin... anywhere. I've had horrible luck with foundations for essentially forever, and I have always had to mix two shades to make something that really works. I feel like that's maybe a just-me thing, but I don't really know. Thoughts, please?

The final-final thing I have been adoring lately is my Benefit Roller Lash Mascara! (It's so good, it gets two pictures. Yes. That good.) This is a relatively new release, and while I don't tend to buy into the hype of products as soon as they're released, but this one caught me. I picked it up almost as soon as it came out and have been obsessed with it ever since. Given that I really never found a groove with Benefit's They're Real, I was surprised by my lack of hesitation to try this. But, the claims piqued my interest, and all of the YouTube reviews I saw were really positive, so I went for it.

This mascara claims to curl lashes and basically eliminate your eyelash curlers from your morning routine. I know what you're thinking: "Yeah, right. As if." But since I bought this, I have not used my eyelash curlers. Okay, I used them once, on one of my eyes, to see if I could see a noticeable difference when I used this mascara with and without curling my eyelashes. I couldn't. When my lashes are properly curled and I've put mascara on, you can tell that they are nearly long enough to mix in with my eyebrows. This mascara is no slouch, friend. It curls my eyelashes to the same point as my eyelash curler would have done, but without the weird contraption and occasional pinch or pull on my lid and/or lashes. There is also no eyelash dent from the curler. Your eyelashes are curled gently from the base by the mascara and the wand, and are lifted up. The curl stays all day (and even into the next day, if you forget to take your makeup off before bed, as I sometimes do), and the mascara rarely smudges. I am a consistent skeptic when it comes to non-waterproof mascaras and their lack of smudging, so I totally get it if you just rolled your eyes at me. But trust me, I have been there with the panda face when I believed a product wouldn't smudge. I've made waterproof formulas smudge. This stuff does not move until you move it with some kind of face wipe or wash. The only times it has smudged on me, are when I have used a thick undereye concealer and not had time to properly set it before doing my mascara. 

The secret to the curl seems to be the brush, which I use starting with the concave side at the base of my lashes. I wiggle the brush between my lashes to ensure the product gets right down to the lashline, and then brush upward, twisting the brush out away from my face as I go. The bristles are plastic, and on the convex side of the brush are slightly hooked to catch your lashes individually (somewhat, it can get clumpy now and then), which helps keep the curl in place all day. The formula of the mascara must contract or something to keep the curl in place, I'm not sure of the exact science behind it. Finally, the mascara itself sets quickly, and I can get away with up to three coats before it starts to look like I've put way too much on. I'm not a big fan of the clumpy spider-lash look, myself. I prefer something about halfway between major drama and "what mascara?" Anyway, I'm in love with this, and I will definitely be repurchasing when it does finally dry out or start to smell spoiled. (At present it has no scent, which is another bonus.)

So... those are the makeup bits that I've been loving lately! What are yours? What should I try next?

Lovingly Yours,

- A.

Resolutions

Hello again,

I have rather sucked at keeping this up, haven't I?

Picture From Here

Well, this is on my list of New Year's Resolutions. Among drinking more water, and not worrying so much about what other people will think, and paying more attention to my creative side, and trying to create new friendships and stimulate old ones, lies the idea of being more active on social media. That means posting more on Twitter and Instagram, rather than just idly flicking through the feeds. (Also I read somewhere that having multiple goals for a year is more effective than just having one or two, so I'm giving that a go as well.)

It also means keeping my lovely little blog up to date.

So, in the spirit of the whole "new year, new you" concept, you got a facelift (and a nice one, if I do say so myself), and a new name, which I'm much happier with, and now, you'll be getting more posts. So get ready, 2015. We're going to hit it and (hopefully) not quit it!

And would somebody please, just as insurance that I don't fall off the wagon again, yell at me if I don't post at least once per week? Seriously. Just do it. Send me angry emails or write angry comments or something.

I want to write to you all, I just get caught in the "I'll write that tomorrow" trap, and then all of a sudden it's January and I haven't written you since August.

I'm also re-doing the office in our house, so that will also create a great space for me to buckle down in. I intend to document it and I'll be posting the before/during/after photographs with a post about the whole thing on here!

What are your new years resolutions? Let me know in the comments!

All my love,

- A.

Fresh Face

Dear You,

This is just a quick note because I wanted to show you how I typically do my makeup in the mornings. If I'm in a rush, I don't usually do any eyeshadow, but just add a couple of extra coats of mascara and run out the door. I also don't typically remember to re-apply whatever lip product I've put on in the morning as the day wears on, so by the time I get to my lunch break, it's usually completely gone.

Please remember that I never once claimed to be a professional beauty... person. I am not that at all. I just like pretty things.

Anyway, as promised -- pictures!

I don't tend to like how a lot of really bright colours look on me, so I stay away from vibrantly coloured eyeshadows, and stick to more neutral tones. If I'm looking to branch out of my neutral tone comfort-zone, I'll wear a bright lip colour, because as we all know, it never lasts very long anyway.

I must say I am really enjoying having a camera in the house that is a bit higher in quality -- these pictures, which were actually "selfies" -- came out way better than I anticipated, and exponentially better than they would have with my little point-and-shoot. I'm hoping to keep doing these kinds of posts as my makeup routine changes through the seasons, and as the needs of my skin change... as long as you still want to read them!

Lovingly yours,

- A.

Routine Rattler

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Dear You,

Every so often, I find myself changing up the products in my makeup bag. Switching out what I'm using with things that are hiding away in my stash. This never happens on a particular schedule, just when I find myself getting bored, or wanting to use a certain product that maybe I have not reached for in a little while.

When I changed my routine up this time, I decided I'd take a picture of the contents of my makeup bag for you all, when it was spilled out (strategically) on my coffee table, and give you a run-down of what's on my go-to product list for the time being.

Because the only way you will be able to read what any of those products say is if you have bionic vision, here's a list of what's in the picture... somewhat in order:

• Marc Jacobs Perfection Powder in shade 300 Beige
• Bourjois Mineral Matte mousse foundation in shade 81 Tendre Ivoire
• C.O. Bigelow My Favourite Night Balm 8-Hour Overnight Recovery
• NYC Expert Last Lipstick in shade 417 Flirty
• Benefit Eye Bright pencil
• M.A.C. Mineralize Skinfinish in Redhead (limited edition)
• Korres Lip Butter in Pomegranate
• Benefit Erase Paste in shade 2 Medium
• Wet 'N' Wild Ultimate Match foundation in shade 853A Porcelain
• M.A.C. Cream Colour Base in Pearl
• Benefit Cream Eyeshadow in Bikini-Tini
• Rimmel Wake Me Up foundation in shade 103 True Ivory
• Benefit Cream Eyeshadow in Birthday Suit
• Korres Lip Gloss in shade 22 Rose
• NARS Larger Than Life lip gloss in Place Vendome
• Benefit Ooh La Lift
• Urban Decay Primer Potion in Original (Deluxe Sample size)
• The Body Shop Vitamin E Cooling BB Cream in Glowing Shade
• Clinique High Impact Waterproof Mascara in shade 01 Black
• M.A.C. Lipglass in shade Petite Indulgence (From a Holiday Set)
• L'Oreal Mega Volume Miss Manga Mascara in shade Violet (from the U.K.)
• Rimmel Apocalips Lip Gloss in shade Solstice
• M.A.C. Pigment in Melon
• M.A.C. Pigment in Tan
• Eyeko London Eye Do Waterproof Liquid Eyeliner Pen in shade Carbon Black
• Makeup For Ever Aqua Eyes Waterproof Eyeliner Pencil in shade 0L (Black)

I obviously do not use these products every day, but as you can tell, at the moment, my focus is mostly on making sure my skin looks good -- it's been playing up a bit lately, so I'm spending most of my time in the morning making sure any blemishes are well covered so that I don't have to worry about touching-up partway through the day. 

I'm considering doing a review of a couple of the products on this list, but if there is anything specific you would like to see, please let me know!

Lovingly Yours,

- A.

Mockingbird

Dear You,

Last night, at about 12:30am, while dealing with another night's inability to sleep, I finished Marja Mills' The Mockingbird Next Door: Life with Harper Lee. This book has me thinking on a multitude of levels. I find myself standing, pondering things as they are, and asking questions to which there are no answers... or at least, if there are answers, I have yet to find them.

Somewhere in the prologue to Mills' book, there should be a note to readers stating that if you have not read the entirety of Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird prior to commencing Mills' book, that the reader is required to close Mills' book and first read Lee's. The number of parallels drawn between the settings of the two books, and their respective characters makes Lee's book a prerequisite. Ms. Mills draws comparisons and conclusions between fiction and fact ad nauseum through her book. Frankly speaking, if you have not read To Kill a Mockingbird, you will not understand much of Mills' work, but as a result, you may not find yourself reaching for half so much gravol or pepto bismol.

With that said, I feel as though, having read Mills' work, and now having had some time to digest it, that if what Mills wrote was authorized (Harper Lee herself now contests that it was not, in fact, authorized), then it does neither harm nor good to the reputations of the Lees. I have put this book down, having finished it, and am left feeling dissatisfied in its contents. The only additional information I now know (providing that it is not fallacy in some way) that I did not previously know about Harper Lee is the occupation of her elder sister, and the names and occupations of a handful of her close friends and relatives in Monroeville, Alabama. No great truths wwere exposed. No great motivations were revealed. Perhaps that is the snoop in me, the curious girl who has loved Lee's novel since I first held it in my hands, who wanted to know more -- more about the characters, the town, the author. 

This brings me to my next question. When did it become okay, and who gave the overarching permission, for everyone in the world to know everyone else's business all of the time? 

Harper Lee seems to me to be the kind of writer who doesn't write because she desires to be famous. Harper Lee writes because she has something of value to say. When she became famous, she did what any sane person who lacked any and all desire for fame would do -- she ran from it. She has spent her entire life running from it. After the success of To Kill a Mockingbird, she never published another work... and why should she? When one book is written, rockets to the top of its class, and stays (as To Kill a Mockingbird has done) a classic worldwide for decades, what need is there to write another? As is alluded to in Ms. Mills' work, when your first work is already at the top, there is only one place for any subsequent works to go -- down. To add to that, publishing further works would only prove counter to what Ms. Lee was trying to avoid. Publishing a second novel, or even an article in a magazine or newspaper, would draw attention to herself. Why would a woman who is trying to stay out of the spotlight draw attention to herself with further publications?

Yes, she could have continued publishing under a pseudonym, but if J.K. Rowling is any indication, the lack of confidentiality in modern society means even a pseudonym is no longer good cover for an individual seeking to stay out of the spotlight. People simply cannot keep their noses out of other people's business.

I feel very similarly overall about the fact that Ms. Mills even wrote this book -- authorized or not. She begins the book by saying that she was sent to Monroeville, Alabama (Harper Lee's hometown) to write a story on the author for her newspaper. Lee had declined an offer from officials in Chicago to appear at a Chicago Library event, but had instead written a letter in support of said event.

Why wasn't the letter Ms. Lee wrote enough? Why can't people just let the woman live out her life in the way that she wants to? Why feel the need to go poking around in her hometown, digging up old friends and skeletons in her closet?

I feel very "Leave Britney Alone" about this. I mean... I write, too. I don't want to have the details of my life -- where I live, who I spend my personal time with -- broadcast all over the internet for the whole world to know. Some things are simply designed to be private. As such, I have never, nor will I ever, give you my full legal name. You see, I have a very unique name, and it would be very easy to find me once you knew what it was. I, like Harper Lee, value my privacy. I'm sure I would hide from fame, should it ever try to infiltrate my life as well.

All in all, I feel that Ms. Mills' book, while an interesting read, may not be entirely truthful, and was most certainly and unnecessary intrusion into the golden years of an author who has spent her entire life running from the spotlight. While informative, I find it also exploitative and sad.

Perplexedly Yours,

- A.

Bookworm

Dear You,

Since I have finally finished classes, and am well into my internship, I have had a lot more time for myself lately! This means more time for thinking up ideas for things to write to you, and much more time to do something which I have not had the time nor the inclination to do for years -- read. I have been reading a great deal lately, purely for enjoyment, and I am loving every minute of it.

As a child, I always loved losing myself in the make-believe of a good book, making friends with the characters, and inserting myself into the story. If you've ever seen the movie "Matilda" (or read the book, which... let's be honest... in a letter about books? I hope you've read the book.), she and I had the same affinity for books and their characters, to give you an idea of my mentality back in the day.

Today, I still love a good book, although not necessarily all of them fictional. I do enjoy non-fiction as well. I have learned to appreciate the truth as much as imagination. After having studied English as my University major, I needed to break from books for a while. I found myself unable to read anything without dissecting it. Thankfully, I seem to have got over that quite nicely now, and am able to sit down and enjoy a good book for the sake of just enjoying it.

I'm looking forward to writing updates and reviews of what I'm reading, but if you'd like to follow me on a more current basis, you can go ahead and follow me on Goodreads. (The link to my profile is here) I have created a list of books I have already read that you can feel free to browse through. I haven't reviewed or even rated them all, but they're there. (Also, please note that this list is nowhere near exhaustive. I don't think I could ever remember all the books I've ever read!) I've also compiled a secondary list of books that I want to read or will be reading soon. If you would like to see a review or summary of any of those books, please let me know and I will do my best to write something here!

Actually, all of this reading I've been doing has me curious how many people out there still read hard-copy books? That is -- do you read paper books, or do you use an e-reader or tablet? Do you read at all, or do you simply listen to audiobooks? My father, who drove a transport truck for much of his working life, used audiobooks, rather than actual reading. That was predominantly for the fact that one should not read while driving, of course. But, if you don't drive for a living, and you're going to sit down to read, what medium do you use? I've been enjoying the convenience of using my iPad, but I find I sometimes miss carrying a paper book with me. I've also noticed a great number of people on my commute to and from work reading from e-readers and tablets. I have a feeling that this is the way that reading is going to go from here on out.

Pensively Yours,

- A.

Shady's Back

Dear You,

I'm nearly finished! Term 4 of my college year has flown by faster than I could possibly have anticipated. Never before have 6 weeks gone by so quickly!

I have a school holiday today, and tomorrow, so I'm going to use that time to (hopefully) write you some good letters to send at a later time. I make no promises, especially considering that my last several attempts to keep up with writing you have been an utter fail.

I won't spend all of my time apologizing in this one, I promise. I will only say that changes have occurred, and are occurring in my life as we speak. I met someone (a boy). We have been seeing each other since January (about 6 months). I am finishing up the class aspect of my education (finally). I start my work placement in 1 week (next Monday)! I am happier and more excited now than I think I have ever been.

I'll give you the story about the boy in my next letter. I swear. For now, just know that he is the force in my life around which the entire world revolves for me. The sun rises and sets with him. I still consider myself to be an independent person, and I still enjoy my time alone, but I feel the most like myself when he is around.

Okay, I'll stop gushing... for now.

Joyously yours,

- A.

Nail It... #1

Dear you,

I wanted to share my latest colour obsession with you! This polish was a gift from my bestie, it's OPI's DSOpulence, and is a gorgeous rosy pink shade with silver glitter. I think this shade looks fabulous on my skin tone, and will look great going into the summer, too!

Changes

Dear You,

Hi! I know, it's been a while. I've been busy, and things have changed in life.

I've decided to widen the scope of our letters! I have always had a love for fashion and beauty, and I have decided to share that with you. I hope that you will not mind the change, and that you will love what I have to say as much as I love sharing my thoughts with you.

I'm hoping that this change will help me to update you on things more frequently.

Lovingly yours,

- A.

Catching Up

Dear You,

It's been ages since I wrote you, I know.

News-wise, I'm happy to report that my life has been relatively placid of late. My first term in college whizzed by at the speed of light, and I'm already into term two. I seem to have passed all of my final exams, and things are going quite smoothly. I have a couple of stories coming up for you, so keep your eyes peeled for that.

So far, I'm finding college to be the most difficult and rewarding experience of my life to date. I haven't written you, because I have lately been dividing my time equally among being in class, studying, sleeping, and once in a while having a meal. Utter madness!

The lack of balance in my life has really begun to weigh on me. I am, as we have discussed, happy to be on my own, but I find the lack of social aspect in my current lifestyle to be somewhat unhealthy. I basically only seem to see my classmates and my room mate on a day-to-day basis. I very rarely see friends, or even family, because I am so weighed down with school.

I have made the decision that I not only need to make more time for my friends and family, but also for you, and for myself. I need to find balance in my life.

But first, I'm moving, so I need to pack.

Steadfastly yours,

- A.

Crazy

Dear You,

There is a reason I don't have a whole lot of girl friends. Unfortunately, they have a tendency to lose their minds. The ensuing drama is very often more than I can take.

Recently, a girl I used to consider a friend (I say used to because I can no longer consider her among my friends) started a particularly unsavoury bit of drama with one of my good male friends. My friend...  shall we call him "Guy?" Let's do that. Guy is a joker. He plays around with people basically all the time. As long as I've known him, he's been this way.

I was actually present for the beginning of the incident in question. The young lady (we'll call her "Elle" for argument's sake) claims that my friend Guy put his hands in her face in a violent manner, and that he made a threat against her. She was, as you might imagine, upset by this. She went home, and spoke to another party, one who does not know Guy, or myself, and who was not present at the time.

I was there. I saw Guy gesture toward Elle, but I never heard him utter any threats. Guy is a sweetheart. He would never ever hurt a fly, I am confident of that.

Regardless of my confidence in the quality of my friend's character, Elle's friend still decided it would be a great idea to track Guy down at his place of work and confront him over this perceived problem. As you can probably figure out, Guy freaked out. He threw the stranger out, and called the police immediately.

Currently, Elle and Guy, as well as the stranger, all have specific police instructions to stay away from one another.

The part that really confused me is why Elle would not stop her friend. She told me after the fact (as I was playing the part of the mediator to try to keep my friends as friends) that the stranger had gone off the deep end and "wouldn't let it go." Why, then, would you give out the address to Guy's place of work? That, to me, (and correct me if I'm wrong) sounds like you're encouraging this type of vigilante behaviour.

I had no choice, after all of her defending and story-switching, but to vote Elle off the island. I can't be friends with a person who condones this kind of violent and illogical behaviour. I can't be friends with a person who does not accept responsibility for her actions. I can't be friends with a person who refuses to make any attempt to solve an issue reasonably and like adults. It feels tragic, but it has to be done.

Sadly,

- A.

Missing

Dear You,

I know it's been a while since I last wrote you (and I know we still have to find a name for you. I promise to get on that ASAP), and I apologize for that.

I'm not making excuses, but I have been absent from basically every aspect of my life except for school. My friends barely see me, my relatives barely see me, and I haven't written you in about a month. I definitely underestimated what I was getting myself into with this program.

I think, though, that I have developed a system which will allow me to write you more frequently. I few things have happened recently that I would like to share with you, so I'm going to go ahead and write them into separate letters, which I can then send to you individually, just to keep you going in case I run into exams or something... which are coming up. I am not excited.

I am hoping to be able to find a way to write you much more often, but at the moment I needed a break from writing a paper/presentation which is due Tuesday. I decided since I was in writer-mode that I'd say hi for once.

Promise you won't hate me for vanishing?

All my love,

- A.

Mine Own Self

Dear You,

Over the last 48 hours, something has been bothering me.

I had a conversation with someone recently, and the idea that I am a deeply unhappy individual was put forth for consideration. Well... maybe not simply "put forth for consideration." Maybe more like "the person to whom I was speaking tried to shove this opinion down my throat and I subsequently choked on it."

I am still not entirely sure what I did or said to lead him to this conclusion, other than maybe the fact that I told him outright that his apparent lack of ability to make sense was making me feel annoyed. (I mean really... this is the same guy who sent me a text that said "Oi" in excess of 45 times within 5 minutes. I counted them. You'd get annoyed too.) He also went so far as to call me a liar (he said I "exaggerated the truth," which is the same thing, in my mind), and to say that I needed to seek mental help for my issues (apparently this person is also under the impression that I have a deep-seated and heavily suppressed anger-management issue, on top of everything else).

I have no idea what brought on this kind of abuse. The more times I tried to tell him he was wrong, the harder he pushed, and the louder he claimed he was right.

But he's not right. Not in the least.

If you've been reading this webpage for a while, you know I've taken a lot of time to examine my past experiences, and to look at my life as it is, and I've learned a lot about myself. I fail to understand how someone who barely knows me can insinuate that I'm so bitterly unhappy. Or how this individual can just up and decide that I "tolerate" my friends, but "don't really like them." Or how he could say that I am making up the activities in my life that I do on a daily/weekly basis because I am "bored with how [my] life really is."

If you have ever met me and taken more than 15 minutes to talk to me, you will know the following:

- I adore my friends. All of them. If I have called you my friend, it is because I love you to pieces, and I don't just tolerate you. I am blessed to have you in my life, and I would not change one hair on your head. I understand how fortunate I am to have people like you in my life, who care about me, and who want the best for me, and I in no way take you for granted. I appreciate you for who you are, as you are, every second of every day, whether I am speaking to you directly or not.

- I genuinely like my life, as it is. I mean sure, I'm not always thrilled that I'm single. Who is? I sometimes hate the little pang of jealousy I feel when I see couples kissing in public. Of course I wish I had that, but at the same time, I'm not dying without it. But I know that all good things come to those who wait. I am picky, and I know that I deserve the best, so why push it? I'm not unhappy being alone, because I know I'm not actually alone. I have amazing friends and a wonderful family to rely on and to keep me company, and I'm also very much comfortable being on my own without being lonely.

- I am an extremely busy girl. I start school in less than a week, I am in charge of organizing a book club, I take art lessons, I spend time with my friends and family... it is a very rare day that goes by where I am not doing something at some point through the day. I don't mind it that way. It can be a little hectic from time to time, but I like keeping busy and engaged. At least I can never say I'm bored! And as far as whether or not I am "exaggerating" or fabricating these aspects of my life, I can provide anyone with the contact information of individuals other than myself who can, in fact, corroborate my story. Which brings me to my next point...

- I can't stand liars. More than that, I can't stand being called a liar. I have high expectations not only for myself, but also for the people I choose to surround myself with. I expect that everyone around me will do his/her best to tell me the honest truth, just as I will do the same for them. I have been lied to by both men and women alike, in my life, and I can honestly say that I would rather not be hurt in that way again. I also feel that if I expect others to behave in a certain way towards me, that I had better behave in the same way toward them. I feel like that just makes sense.

- I certainly do not need mental help or therapy of any description. I did the therapy thing for a while in university, because I felt at that point like things were piling up and I was maybe losing myself in all of it. I do not feel out of control. I do not have any anger or rage issues... except maybe that it is extremely difficult to make me angry. I suppose if we're really going to play "hunt the mental issue," the fact that I so rarely get upset could conceivably be an issue. I do have a tendency toward the dramatic on those special and rare occasions when I do get upset (for instance, through the conversation we are currently discussing, I told my aggressor that I would "knock all of his teeth down his throat... individually" if he didn't stop calling me a liar), but this is only ever a statement out of pure anger, and is never something I would actually follow through on.

I have discussed the idea that I might be a deeply unhappy person with a few of my close friends. Three, to be precise... the first laughed outwardly at the suggestion, and asked if the individual making these remarks had ever even met me. The second simply said "No, but you can be a little bit cynical sometimes." The third, who is also my room mate, looked utterly confused said "That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard... Where do you find these people?!"

I would tend to agree with all of these assessments. I'm not unhappy at my core. I do get cynical now and again, but it's (as my friend put it) just "burning out from caring about people too much." This is true. I care about the people in my life a great deal, and it does sometimes become emotionally wearing, or even frustrating. This emotional tiredness and frustration does sometimes lead me to unhappy moments, but I would not go so far as to say that I am an unhappy person, overall.

I think, having discussed this with you now, that the person who has suggested this concept to me needs to take some time and be in my life a little more actively to get an idea of who I actually am. It is blatantly obvious that he does not know my true self in the least. With that said, I believe that it is grossly unfair to make generalizations about my personality without having a clue who I am.

He said not to contact him until I was ready to accept what he said and make some personality changes.  This is not going to happen... I have spent the last 26 years getting to know who I am, and I think as a result that I know myself far better than anyone else on the planet. I know myself, and as a result, I can never accept what he said as being anything near to the truth.

Good riddance to bad rubbish then, wouldn't you say?

Happily yours,

- A.

Drama-Dary

Dear You,

You know... I thought we had passed the immature kinds of dramatic activities that took place in high school. I mean... I'm 26. Most of my friends are my age, and a handful are older than I am. I don't find I am able to be friends very successfully with people who are younger than me, simply based on the fact that their maturity level often doesn't match my own. (Please don't be insulted by that. I'm just saying.)

Unfortunately, the people I choose to associate with sometimes seem to know people who are not necessarily as cool and drama-free as I like my life to be. Unfortunately, there are still some adults in the world who do not know what it means to have class, tact and decency. They find themselves lacking in these areas when they are sober. With the addition of alcohol, any beginnings of a grip on how to handle themselves in an adult manner that they may have initially had are gone, and they are subsequently reduced to mere apes.

What I am speaking of, directly, is a rather long story. I have this friend (again with the friends, I know...), we'll call him Jacob, just for arguments' sake. Obviously this is not his actual name.

Jacob is one of the best friends I have right now. A while back... say a month or so ago now, he got himself involved with this girl... Amanda (not her name). The day before Jacob fell into Amanda's trap, her husband left her. Amanda also has a relatively young daughter. Obviously a reasonable mind can see that this woman is making a horrible mistake already, and that our dear friend Jacob is walking into a really large rebound thing here. He missed it. No big deal.

So, time goes on, and the relationship between Jacob and Amanda heads toward the sewers. He attempts to break things off, and she goes bat-crap crazy, basically. Starts spreading her negativity to their mutual friends. Sends relentless and rude text messages at all hours of the day and night.

He eventually makes a smart decision, and cuts contact with not just Amanda, but also their mutual friends, who appear to have taken Amanda's "side" in the mess. You see, these people, being the drama-queens that they are, decided it would be appropriate to give my friend attitude about his decision. Obviously this is not an appropriate reaction at all, particularly not for two people who are so near the 30-year age mark.

This all passed, and Jacob's life went back to being quiet and peaceful. He and I resumed spending time together, which we had not been able to do while he was seeing Amanda (she felt somehow threatened by my friendship with Jacob, and he decided as a result that it would be best to keep his distance from me. No big deal.). Things went back to normal, basically.

Until tonight.

Tonight, Jacob and I did what we always do. He picked me up from home, and we drove to a coffee shop, picked up a coffee each, and found a quiet spot to chat and just hang out (Keep your minds out of the gutter -- everybody's pants stayed on). We were having a good night, and came back to my place early, because I am babysitting my roommate's dog for the evening, and who should we drive by on the way in to my apartment than Jacob's old friends. They noticed us. I still had to walk the dog, so I went inside and got her, while Jacob stayed outside. He told me when I got back outside to where he was in the parking lot that a group of people from the party his friends were at had walked to the entrance of my parking lot and looked at his car, and then walked away without saying anything.

We went on and walked the dog as normal, but on the way back, we crossed paths with the same group. Unfortunately, this is where their collective lack of tact comes into play. Instead of civilly saying "Hello" and moving on, and allowing us to move on, they instead chose to shout at Jason while we walked by. Frankly I am more upset that they upset my friend, and embarrassed for them over their behaviour than I am upset for my own sake (Let's not think for one second that I wasn't dragged into it just as a result of being there at that moment). Jason took his opportunity and went home, at this point. Neither of us said a word back to the group, we just kept walking. It is, as you know, the adult thing to do, to ignore the cat-calls and taunts of the juvenile.

I know that both I and my friend are far better people than his ex-friends are. I just wonder if anything can be done to make these specific individuals understand that what they do and what they say only looks poorly on them? Why do people still choose to behave like children, when they are actually adults? Is it a question of the influence of alcohol, or are they actually just that ignorant?

Suffice it to say that if this ever happens to you, always take the high road. Never respond, just keep walking. Responding only opens an invitation to your aggressor(s) to make matters worse. By walking on and ignoring the words, you simply leave him/her/them standing in the road, shouting like a lunatic... and boy, do they ever look silly when you do that.

Yours in exasperation,

- A.

Dancing With Myself

Dear You,

Okay, so I know I’ve already expounded for a while about the fact that I’m good with the fact that I spend a lot of time on my own (see post here if you don’t know what I’m talking about), but I feel like I need to spout on for a few more moments. You see, I did a great job explaining that I am good on my own, but I feel like my reason why was a bit lacking.

I feel like, as an individual, it’s important to be your own best friend. Not in the sense that your best friend is the person you tell all your secrets to, but in the sense that you love spending time just on your own. To me, it’s important to actually enjoy spending time alone. It’s important to be able to be alone without freaking out. Can you say that about yourself? Don’t get weird about it if you can’t. You’re not alone. 

Hell, I used to feel a little weird if I wasn’t constantly in contact with someone, anyone! I’m pretty sure everyone goes through that state of mind at some point in their lives. For me, it was about growing self-confidence, and cultivating a kind of love for myself that had been lacking for a long time.

I get the feeling this is going to be a long letter. Try not to fall asleep, okay?

So, here’s a long story:

I was pretty happy as a child, I think. For what I can remember, everything was pretty straightforward, and life was pretty fun until the year I turned 8. Everyone in my grade got along... until the year I turned 8. Third grade. In third grade, a couple of the girls figured out that they could be mean to other girls and, for the most part, they could get away with it. It was pretty harmless at that point, but the degree to which these girls were mean to others increased as years went on. By the time we reached the seventh grade, I had developed a pretty crazy social anxiety disorder. I hesitated to leave home, because I knew what to expect -- social torture. 

Back-track as to why this happened, why I became a target. Let’s look at third-through-eighth grade me and see where the points for picking-on came out: 

• I was taller than almost everyone in my grade. I grew fast. “Like a weed,” as my grandmother would say.
• I was big into books, and smarter than a lot of the other kids as a result. I kid you not, I was reading classic literature (Poe, Austen, Woolstonecraft-Shelley, Stoker, etc.) by the fifth grade. 
• Suffice it to say I “Developed” at a higher rate of speed than 90% of the girls in my grade.
• I was not a big sports fan. See the bookworm point.
• I was not allowed to watch anything that was rated beyond PG. Ever.
• I was not dressed in the “latest” 1990’s fashions. My parents couldn’t afford it. I had hand-me-downs from neighbours, and shopped at second-hand and thrift stores, instead of at the mall... this also meant that I got to choose my own clothes and decide what was cool for myself. I developed an individual sense of style very quickly.
• Adults generally liked me... including most of the parents of the kids who were making my life miserable.

Fast-forward back to the point where I developed the social anxiety problem. I figured out how to fly under the radar -- stay home. Don’t go out. 

I had exactly one all-the-time friend through elementary school. I had a couple of other girls who would be my friend after school and on weekends. I can’t blame them for watching their own asses and not making any moves that looked friendly toward me while we were in school. It’s self-preservation. Survival of the fittest. I can’t believe I’m using Darwinist terminology while talking about schoolchildren, but it’s all that fits at the moment. Jesus.

Anyway, Jenny (name changed), would go with me to regional school dances (basically, kids from 3-5 different schools in the area, including my own, would all meet up in one location and participate in a dance. In England, I believe they call this a “Disco.” That’s a much better phrase.). Jenny was not only my friend in this case, but also my guard dog, my personal support worker, my matchmaker, and, in a couple of very awkward instances, a human shield. We had insults hurled at us (Jenny had a similar problem at her school as I had at mine), as well as assorted food items. Together, we learned to ignore it. We learned how to get gum out of each other’s hair without cutting it off. We learned that the fastest way to get an orange soda stain out of a white shirt was to scrub the heck out of it with a piece of paper towel and public washroom liquid soap. If it hadn’t been for the support that Jenny and I provided each other, I don’t know how either of us would have survived. 

Jenny’s anxiety and insecurity didn’t get as bad as mine did. I no longer speak to her, but she was always solid as a rock. She was, and is still, my inspiration in many ways. She always said what she thought, did what she wanted, stood up for what (and who) she believed in. She never gave a shit what anybody thought and she wasn’t afraid to tell them so. I mean... this is the girl who wold annually just shut up for an entire day -- she would not say a single word for 24 hours -- to support the LGBT community, to help fight for a voice for the voiceless. (NOTE: This vow of silence was pretty huge at the time. Jenny started this tradition when we were in high school. Extra props to her, and to the others I know who were brave enough to go through with it even once... because loudly supporting the LGBT community in a Catholic high school takes some serious guts.)

I wish I could say I had been as brave and strong as Jenny. I wasn’t. Sometimes I still wonder if I am. I let my shell take over my life, for the most part. I made friends, but I stuck to my little group and didn’t ever stray from them. I made my friends in the first semester of the 9th grade, and I didn’t go out of my way to even so much as try to make new ones after that. I had people, and I was comfortable. I still avoided going out, but it wasn’t quite so bad as before. I still got picked on at home though, because I come from a very small town. Things turned 180 degrees. School became my refuge, and home became a problem. 

Through all of this, I grew to think that I was the problem. That the mean girls were mean to me because I was too tall, too fat, too thin, too smart, not smart enough, too much of a goody-two-shoes, not pretty enough. I convinced myself that, as a person, I was wrong. I came to dislike myself. I didn’t like looking in a mirror. I started playing with makeup, not because it looked like fun, or because it was “time,” but because I thought I could use it to change the physical aspects of myself that were wrong. I stopped letting people take my picture, except for school photos. I didn’t want any evidence of such a “wrong” person to exist after the fact. I had decided that for the time being, I would have to go on being un-pretty, being imperfect. I would grow up someday and somehow turn pretty, and maybe then I could be perfect. I subscribed to the idea that I couldn’t be pretty and smart at the same time. I had to choose between the two. I guess I picked smart.

In university, I discovered that I am a charismatic person. I am a sweet and kind person, and people find me relatively easy to get along with. I made a number of friends, both in my dorm and in my classes really quickly and easily. I had a real, serious boyfriend for the first time in my life. It was at this point that I have since realized that I was uneasy about being alone. At any given moment, somebody was sending me some form of message. My old high school friends would send me MSN messages and email updates. My new friends and boyfriend would send texts, and sometimes MSN messages. Some message system somewhere was always going off. I felt loved, and popular for the first time in my life. However, when the hours arrived that my messaging systems went quiet, an old feeling crept up on me. Rejection. Sadness. Depression. Isolation. Anxiety. I felt like I was missing out on something. Like all of my friends were probably hanging out together somewhere, laughing and talking about how stupid I was or something.

Ridiculous, right?

Well, to me, that was exactly what was happening. I would spiral into a state of self-loathing. I would get angry with my friends for no reason. As quickly as I had made them, I lost quite a few friends this way. My accusatory tone would set my friends off, and they would become defensive. This would make me accuse them even more. I could not be in a room on my own without anyone contacting me and not end that same day in an argument with someone who had done absolutely nothing wrong, and who had done absolutely nothing to me, personally. I didn’t get why this was happening. I assumed that, in this instance, I was not the problem. I was wrong.

I needed to fix myself. I needed to get my head straightened out. It took me a long time to realize it, but I needed to figure out a way to be happy with myself, and it’s only recently that I can say honestly, and without blinking, that yeah, I like who I am. I spent a long time thinking back over situations, going over my days before I went to bed. Standing in front of a mirror, forcing myself to look at my own face. Picking out the things about myself that I like, instead of picking at the things I dislike. I started leaving my cell phone in my bag when I got home, instead of letting it be attached to my hand. I learned to appreciate quiet. I started reading more, just for the fun of it. I learned to look after myself -- mind, body, and spirit. 

Through learning to love myself, and learning to love being by myself, I have learned to care for other people more deeply. I am less judgemental with strangers. I am more welcoming. More approachable. I meet new people often, and I am getting good at making conversation. I’m always going to be a quiet person. Crowds and new people are always going to make me nervous. The trick is to not let the things that scare you run your life. I don’t know you, but you don’t scare me. I’m alone right now, as I write this, and I’m not freaking out. I’m fine. I like myself, and I like being alone. I’m happier and healthier for it, and my relationships with other people are happier and healthier as a result. 

The way I see it, if you aren’t okay being on your own, if you freak out when your phone isn’t going off, and nobody’s messaging you on facebook, you need to drop everything and figure out why. Once you figure out why you’re not happy with just yourself, you can set to fixing it. Your friends... your true friends, will support you and love you through it. Your relationships will only improve. You will learn that you are the most important person in your life. You have to love yourself the most of all, before you can learn to love anyone else.

So... to you, be happy. Be healthy. Be alone. Be better than the negative thoughts. Learn to love you, as you are. Be okay going out without makeup on. Be okay dancing with yourself.

Happily Yours,

- A.

P.S. I’m sorry this was so disgustingly long. Congratulations if you actually read the whole thing! Here’s a prize:

xoxo

Like a Wolf

Dear You,

It has recently occurred to me that I do a lot of things on my own. I spend a great deal of my time on my own.

It has also occurred to me that I don't mind it.

I took myself shopping recently. I didn't go with any of my girlfriends. I didn't make my mother tag along. I got the bus, and I went on my own. I spent about 3 hours wandering around the mall, had lunch on my own, and went back home. I think I prefer this to the "normal" shopping excursion of the twenty-something female. I didn't have to wait for any other person, or hang around in some store that I hate, for whatever reason. I went where I wanted to go, saw what I wanted or needed to see, and went back home.

I need to do this more often.

I spend a lot of time having meals on my own, hanging out in my bedroom, basically alone (because a cat can only afford you so much conversation). Even as I write this to you, now, I am sitting in my bedroom, music on, typing away. I like the peace and quiet, and I enjoy being able to process my own thoughts, and to type those thoughts out to you, without interruption, and without feeling like I'm being somehow rude to someone else.

Don't get me wrong, friends do have their place, and I do enjoy being social. I am certainly not a hermit, by any means, I have simply begun to notice how many of my days are spent in solitude, and then to notice again how little I seem to mind.

My life is quiet, at the moment, and that is a good thing for me. I'd be okay if it stayed this way.

You see, I've not only enjoyed a lot of time on my own in terms of friends and whatnot, I've also not "officially" had a boyfriend in nearly a solid year. Yes, I know. This is not a very typical thing to have done, but I'm okay with that, too. I've had dates. I've got boys who are my friends. No boyfriend. I think that's why I got the cat, to be honest. That isn't to say that if some real life Prince-Charming-Type swooped in on a winged horse and swept me off my feet, that I wouldn't welcome it/him with open arms... because I would. I mean... a guy who goes to the trouble of putting wings on a horse? Has to be a winner, right? I just have high standards. I don't have a boyfriend because I utterly refuse to settle for anything less than everything I want. I won't lower the bar to fit a person who is "really lovely except." Why should I do that to myself? If Mitch (name used for argument's sake) is really lovely, except for the fact that he doesn't seem to have "Thank You" as part of his vocabulary, then why would I settle for him? If Paul is really lovely except that he never listens to a word I say, why should I settle? And if Adam is really lovely except for the part where he's a huge liar, and even lies about lying to me, why in the HELL would I settle? Because I'm 26 and I'm single? Thank god this is the 21st century and not the 19th. I'm okay with being a 19th century old maid. The way I see it, settling for anything less than everything is basically telling myself that I don't deserve the perfect guy. It's telling myself, and my self-worth, that I'm not as valuable as my engaged and recently married girlfriends. They were worthy of their perfect guy... so why not me?

Yours in solitude,

- A.

Self-Depricating

Dear You,

I have been confronted by my own words. I am told, by a very reliable source, that I may be too hard on myself.

Now, I understand that as a young woman, I may or may not be societally conditioned to view myself differently than others view me -- this is part of the widespread body dysmorphic disorder that plagues my generation. I will always pick out subtle (or sometimes, in my own opinion, totally glaring) faults in myself, both physically and in personality, and often times others will have no idea what I am talking about. It simply comes with the territory of being a woman in this day and age, I think.

It is always easier to see the beauty in others than it is to recognize it in yourself.

Personally, I think of myself as the "girl-next-door" type. File me under "Cute." In my own head, I have more intelligence than I have looks. You may choose to disagree with me if you like, but I genuinely believe it. I have always been "The Smart Girl." It's just who I am, and I don't mind. It has developed as part of my persona.

With that said, I have also developed an aversion to being in pictures. If a picture is being taken of any of my friends, there is a 99% chance that I am the one taking the picture. My logic in this is that if I am taking the picture, I cannot possibly be in the picture. I try to hide behind other people, if I have to be in the picture. I rarely ask for copies of pictures I'm in. I simply don't want the evidence of how I look to be spread around. Facebook is horrible for that.

I mean... I don't think I'm particularly ugly, at all. Like I said, you could file me under "Cute." At 5 feet 7 inches, I'm certainly not a supermodel. I also know I have curves, and while I do like them, they sometimes make me feel like a bus, or sometimes even the broad side of a barn, when I stand next to my thinner friends.

With that said, I am also not one of these girls who has a problem with her curves, so she hides under oversized, black clothing. I usually really like my curves, and I know how to dress my body. I love the way vintage-inspired "fit and flare" dresses sit on my body. I like colour, and I'm not afraid to wear it. I'm aware that some men find my shape irresistibly sexy. I just often don't feel it. I feel pretty, most of the time. Maybe I just have more self-conscious moments that other women do. Maybe I'm totally normal. I don't know.

Either way, I need to make a conscious effort to not be quite so hard on myself. I need to figure out more little ways to love myself in a day. Up for working on this with me? Maybe we can make it a group project.

Lovingly Yours,

- A.

Vibes

Dear You,

Recently, while attempting to provide a disclaimer to a friend (Hi, Joe !!) regarding this blog, I realized something. I have published a total of five letters on the internet. Of those five letters, only one could be construed as remotely positive. I feel as though this gives off the vibe that I am not an entirely happy, positive person. I feel as though I may have led you to the belief that I am not, in fact, a little ray of sunshine, but am instead, a storm cloud. I am not a storm cloud... or a prostitute.

So, I made a decision. In the interest of getting to know one another better, and in the interest of proving that I am not a depressed and jaded individual, I am going to use this particular letter to ramble off some things that make me particularly happy on a day-to-day basis.

1) Flowers. It doesn't have to be any specific kind of flower, I like most all of 'em. I even keep a few bouquets of faux-flora in vases in my bedroom, just because I like them so much. I think it must be the colours. I also keep faux-flowers because dead plants make me a little sad. (Note to all future suitors: please don't give me real flowers. They die, and that makes me sad. Making me sad will not look well on you as far as your... suiting.)

2) Sunshine. I think this is pretty self-explanatory. It's also science, and that makes me feel pretty darned smart. I'm told (by scientists, naturally) that sunshine provides us (humans) with Vitamin D. An increase of Vitamin D in your system will make you feel happier naturally. That's why we, as people, get the "Winter Blahs" -- not enough Vitamin D! (But we all know that we get these "Winter Blahs" because winter actually really sucks, right? So cold, and drab, and snowy... okay, no more thinking about winter. It's August. Let's enjoy August.)

3) The stupid shit people post on the internet literally every day. It seems I find some gem almost daily that has me in stitches laughing. Websites like HelloGiggles and my Facebook feed (which provides ever-so-hysterical links to outside sources (ie. YouTube) help immensely. (See This, This, and also This for reference.)

4) Music. Particularly up-beat, funky music. I'll listen to almost anything (for instance, I was recently introduced to the concept of Ska. I have never listened to Ska before this week. I fucking love Ska. Where have you been all my life, Ska!?), and I find that whatever I'm listening to really effects my mood. If I'm not having a good day, I will (please don't hate me) throw some Katy Perry on, and dance it off. There is also no better workout motivation than some really disgusting, almost-annoying top-40 Pop. Suffice it to say that through the last few weeks, Ms. Perry has been basically on loop. The approximately $20 I paid for her two albums has been well worth it!

5) Ridiculous pictures. I have a tendency to only keep family photos that make me laugh for some reason. Somebody pulls a stupid face, gets caught talking, looks like he/she is really not with it... whatever the case may be. If I look at it, and it strikes me as funny, it goes in a frame, and gets placed somewhere in my bedroom. I think my favourite is still the picture of my maternal grandparents where my Grandmother looks adorable, and super sweet (AKA like her normal self... Hi Gram!! <3), and my Grandfather looks a bit like Mr. Clean's evil twin... and there's a good chance he may bite my Grandmother. I love this picture.... so much. That said, not all of the pictures I've kept are funny ones. I did hang on to a lot of fairly un-funny and typical pictures as well.

6) Cliché Alert: My family and friends. If you're reading this, and I know you in my offline-life in some respect... I love you. Having people around me who genuinely care about me, and about my well-being means the world to me. Each of member of my family, and each one of my friends, make my life what it is. If you have been my friend, and we're no longer in contact for whatever reason, know that you've made an impact on my life as well. I am a firm believer that each person who enters and exits your life, whatever their reason for it, does so to teach you a lesson, or to show you something you may not have otherwise seen. I am fortunate to have you in my life, and am grateful every day that you've been my friend, or that you are my relative. Also, I am including my cat in this group. My cat is basically my child. Deal with it.

7) Instagram. It's interesting how one little application can impact your life. Instagram allows me to see what my friends and family are up to, and to capture the small moments in each day that make me happy. Whether that's a meal that turned out awesome, something stupid my cat did (there are a LOT of cat pictures on my Instagram... just a warning.), or whatever made me smile that particular day.

Okay... I feel like 7 is a good place to stop. Maybe I'll keep doing these. I feel like it's good for me to remind myself of the things that are really, truly positive in my life, and it also allows you to see a bit into my life, and my personality, which you may not see otherwise.

Anyway, it's time for bed. There is a cat in my lap, and it is high time that I was in bed! I shall speak to you again soon.

Happily Yours,

- A.

Prostitute

Dear You,

I couldn't think of a better title for this particular letter than what I've written. I realize that brings up some pretty strong images and ideas, but I assure you that this is not a confessional. I am not a prostitute. It is, however, a waxing on about how frustrated I am over being treated like a prostitute by my city's police officers.

Let me start by reiterating to you that I am not a prostitute. I may currently be among the ranks of the unemployed whilst I wait for school to start in September, but I am not paying my rent by selling my sexuality to men... or women, for that matter. I am not a prostitute. I wouldn't even qualify myself as a "slut" of any description. I'm pretty conservative in that way, in general.

Tonight, after returning from a pretty lengthy excursion to a neighbouring, and smaller city for dinner and an explore with some other friends, I sent a text to a very close male friend of mine. I asked if, because we were supposed to hang out yesterday, he wanted to grab coffee and/or go for a drive. He agreed, and came to pick me up. We decided to skip the coffee, because it was pretty late (it's even later, as I type this), and just go for a drive instead. When my friend got tired of driving, we pulled off into a parking lot. We sat chatting (note the words "sat" and "chatting." These are important.) in the parking for well over an hour. I realize that sitting in a parking lot in a car to have a conversation is not normal. Most people would sit in a coffee shop, or in their houses. My friend and I simply have a tradition of sitting in his car instead. Nothing more to it than that.

After a little while, a car pulled in behind us. The ridiculous brightness of the headlights let both my friend and myself know that this was not just any other car. This was a police cruiser.

Now, a little background information, because I presume that we are likely from different cities. Where I live, there is usually only one officer to a police cruiser, not two. Tonight, there were two officers in the car. The first, a male, went to my friend's side of the vehicle. They began talking, and while I was paying attention to what was going on on my friend's side of the car, the second officer, a female, snuck up on my side of the car. I say snuck up, because not only did I not expect to see a second officer, she also walks like some kind of ninja. She was at my window and asking if I had any ID before I could even so much as notice that she was there. I only had my provincial health card on me, which has no picture on it, but she took it anyway. As she took it, she asked me several pretty pointed questions. Where was I from? Where do I live? Who do I live with? What is my friend doing in this city? (He has out-of-Province license plates) How do I know him? I felt as though she was accusing me of being... you guessed it... a prostitute. I am not a prostitute. I don't feel as though I look like a prostitute, even. The whole situation was just silly.

After a reasonably long wait for our ID to be returned to us, my friend and I were allowed to go on with our conversation. We decided to leave the parking lot, because the sudden accusations had ruined a good talk.

When I got home, the attitude from the officers, and the questions from the female officer in particular were still really bothering me. I made a phone call to the non-emergency police line, and asked if this was normal. I was shocked to hear the officer on the other end of the line sounding proud of "his officers" and telling me that they had followed protocol exactly. I thanked the officer for the information and hung up. He obviously wasn't getting my point, and I was, and am, not in the mood to argue.

So, here's my question for you... what ever happened to "Innocent until proven guilty?" Why are police officers allowed to go around accusing people and giving negative attitude when there isn't any real cause for it? Why am I living in a world where I can't sit in a parked car without being accused of being a hooker?

In other words... what the hell happened to the world? And what the hell happened to people? And to trust?

Confusedly Yours,

- A.

Fight or Flight

Dear You,

I am sitting on my bed, writing this to you, because I can't talk to anyone else... and believe me, I tried. It's interesting (and not in a good way) to have something terrifying happen to you, and to then feel as though you've been reduced to minutia and dramatics by a man who is supposed to be your friend.

I was always under the impression that men were supposed to respect women. In terms of traditional gender roles, women are supposed to be the more delicate of the two sexes -- the "weaker" sex. To that end, I was pretty sure that, except for the mentally unstable ones, all men were brought up from a very young age to be careful with and to protect women -- their sisters, mothers, cousins, friends... even strangers.

I have, for the most part, felt like a very strong and independent woman. Admittedly not as physically strong as the vast majority of the men in my life, but I can compete on a mental level with the best of them. I can take care of myself, and to this point, have felt like I was pretty good at it, too.

Tonight, that changed.

I have never felt so weak. So attacked. So helpless.

Tonight, I had a date (this is a super good thing!). Things went well. We decided to go for a late dinner. After dinner, I walked my date to the corner where we usually split up, and go home separately. I have walked that walk home a million times. Nothing has ever happened. As usual, I pulled my headphones out of my bag as a crossed the street. I had my leftover dinner in my hands.

This time, as I crossed the street, I was followed. Not by my date. By a stranger. A stranger who smelled very strongly of beer. He asked if I was going to wait for the bus. It seemed innocent enough, so I answered -- I said "No."

Unfortunately, the beer-scented man did not stop at the bus stop. He followed me. He kept half-shouting questions at me -- demanding to know where I was going, how far I was walking, why I had chosen to walk. I didn't answer. The more questions I let go by without responding, the angrier he got. He changed tones, from drunk half-shouting to full-on shouting. I still ignored him. I walked a little faster. He quickened his pace and kept right up with me. He kept on shouting.

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At this point, he shouted "Why you mad, baby?" and tried to touch my arm. I twisted myself out of his grasp, and darted down a side street. No streetlights. I could still hear his footsteps behind me. I walked a few paces more into the darkness and ducked into a tall hedge. Thankfully, I was dressed almost entirely in black. The perfect camouflage under cover of darkness. I have a hole in my dress from where it caught on the hedge. I am convinced that the hedge and my black dress saved me from something terrible.

I waited in my hedge until he had gone past, muttering all the way. I counted to fifty... slowly. Agonizingly slowly. I walked home quicker than I have ever walked home before, when I was sure he had gone. My heart pounded in my ears all the way. I still feel like I am going to vomit. I have never been so happy to see my roommate sitting on the staircase to our apartment in all my life. At that point, I was even glad to see her boyfriend was standing in the stairway, too.

I have finished shaking. My heart rate has slowed. The nausea is still present, and I am getting a headache... but I even managed to cry out what happened. I feel a little bit more steely. A little bit harder-hearted. I will think twice before I answer a question that seems so innocent again.

At the same time, I will think again before I send a panicked text to my so-called guy friend. This person is decidedly not the person I thought he was. (Again, not my date.) To my own detriment, I did send him the message whilst still in the throws of my almost-panic-attack. Still, I expected more support than I got. I expected him to ask if I was sure I was okay, or if there was anything I needed. Instead, I got told to forget what had happened. To "chalk it up to some drunken idiot."

Further proof to my theory that I have nobody in this life to rely on to care about me other than just me.

Yes, I realize that sounds jaded, and cruel, and harsh... but it's how I feel right now. I am grateful for the true friends that I have... but an instance like this? It shows me a lot about the people I call my friends by how they react. Sure, this reaction was not what I expected... but to be that cold? I don't know. How can people do that? I don't understand.

I guess my lack of understanding why people behave the way that they do is the subject of yet another letter.

Yours in Exasperation,

- A.

PS: This song was just released today, as part of a larger album, and it really helped me tonight. Please give it a listen if you are feeling weak, or like you need some extra motivation.