“Call girls are so cute…” “what?” “I said Koala bears”

SUNDAY.

Today is Sunday. Probably my favourite day of the week.  Most people hate Sundays because Mondays follow them, but to me Sunday is my Saturday and Monday is my Sunday. Does that make sense? Or am I rambling too much already? Thats more a rhetorical question due to the fact I can’t hear your answer.

Today though, I woke up unbelievably crabby. Way to over tired. My roommate has turned me into one of those people who can’t handle mornings without caffeine injected into my veins. I also have become the muffin monster and can’t start my day without devouring one.

So with really no idea what to write about I decided to google myself today. It reminded me of what an insta/interweb hoe bag I used to be. I mean yes Ive done a few photoshoots recently where boobies have been shown. But I feel like there is a difference between having a sexy shoot done and taking an iPhone photo of your panties pulled up your ass. I became famous for showing my anus. ( I just wanted an excuse to use that rhyme.) I had completely forgot that during my insta fame I had created a tumblr. Well to be honest I was shocked looking at some of the photos I had willingly taken and posted of myself. I mean in no way am I a prude, but holy whore villa population BEE. Its weird too because I wasn’t having any sex when I posted those photos but you’d probably think Im a webcam girl scrolling through my old tumblr.

Its so weird hows we progress as humans, all the various stages that we go through. Always evolving. I look back at who I was 5 years ago to who I am now and it seems like a life time ago. Probably because 5 years ago I was mentally incompetent due to over use of substances. But even since I first moved to Vancouver I have grown into a less instawhorish version of myself. The main point of me starting this blog was to log my self discovery and experiences from the past and present. Technically they are all from the past by the time I write about them, but you get the point.

People seem to like to ask the question, so what do you want to do for a career. I always answer with I want to be a B0$$. See Ive never been one to make a plan and stick to it. I live my life the same way I deal with directions. I never know where Im going but I always seem to end up where I need to be. My brain never shuts off and the fact that I get bored extremely easily is probably the reason Ive always worked multiple and extremely different jobs at the same time my whole life. I never wanted to have a regular job, the whole idea of “normal” never really worked with my abnormal way of thinking.

I was raised to be hardworking so free loading off of anyone was never really an option. Also being a fiending ( I definitely made that word up) addict for years taught me how to be creative in making money. ( with my clothes on) I have worked in so many different fields which has given me a good insight to the careers I don’t want. As well its subconsciously pushed me out of my comfort zone and closer toward what I do want.

But see I still can’t answer what I do want or what want as a career. I mean I love so many different things so to pick just one won’t work for me. Right now I am just figuring out how to mesh all my “passions” into a money making machine. Most people I know from high school have degrees, families, babies. As much as my mother wishes I was like these young adults, I wouldn’t change the life Ive chosen to live one bit. The drugs and dark past have made me realize that anything is possible and that if I want to be extraordinary that I can damn well do so. ( wow maybe I should go into being a motivational speaker… look at those lines.)

Writing my bi weekly ramblings was the best idea I have ever had, better than sliced bread…if sliced bread was my idea. It has allowed me to connect with people from all over the world and shown me that people surprisingly enjoy my entries. I find it insane that people relate to my ridiculous rants and actually take the time to email me. It has also allowed me to discover so many different areas Im interested in. So really the road to discovery of an ex insta whore is actually achieving what it was created to do.

 

thank god for push up bras and I’m thinking of starting a Vlog

 

Writing while sleep deprived makes me sound even more like a crack head

5:47 am the other night… or I guess morning. 

5:47am and Im awake, yes I have not slept yet. Instead I lay wide awake with my super cool mouth guard in bed watching Dexter.(I actually love my mouth gaurd and it is the only thing I ever want in my mouth this early in the morning) This show is too addictive I mean I just started 3 days ago and Im almost done season 3. I guess having insomnia is helpful at helping me watch 5 million episodes until the wee hours of the morning.

Anyways this post isn’t about Dexter. Its about my sleeping or should I say lack their of patterns. I don’t sleep. When I do sleep I have nightmares. Nightmares that would probably put me in the same category of insane as Dexters serial killer character. I don’t take narcotics so my ” sleeping pills ” are sleepy time tea and warm milk. I thought Id luck out tonight and pass out from the cold medicine Ive consumed but instead of sending me to sleepy time land Im in a state of feeling half stoned. For a bitch who’s been sober for almost a year and a half this has resulted in me walking around my apartment like a child who consumed liquor for their first time.

Insomnia is a bitch. A skanky bitch who seems to think I want to be her friend and stay up all night thinking about our futures together. Well I hate her and have been trying to break up with her for her brother sleep for years.

I have had sleeping issues since I was about 16, maybe it was because that was when I really started getting into my love for substances. Im sure drugs play a part in past and current sleeping issues. I mean I know thats why I used to stay up till 5 am it doesn’t take a brain surgeon to know drugs keep you awake.( Unless I decided to slip into a self induced K-hole…which happened more times then not) But Im sure the brain damage the prolonged use caused me plays a part in my current state. Whatever the cause of this tormenting problem may be it doesn’t matter, the only thing that matters is I’m one sleepless night away from asking my roommate to hit me over the head just hard enough so I pass out for 8 hours.

See everyone now a days seems to have “Insomnia” when really all half these people have is a problem disconnecting from the internet. If you really have sleep issues, I mean the kind of issues that leave you staring at the ceiling for 5 hours wonder how you can knock yourself unconscious you will relate to the pain this actually causes. See not being able to sleep for one night is one thing, two nights a pain in the ass, but every single night of your existence it starts to make you a bit insane. Not meth head peel off your face insane, more like coke head been up for a week crazy. I have learned how to survive on 2-3 hours of “sleep.” Though I don’t even really classify my so called rest as real sleep because once my body finally shuts down my mind begins a whirlwind of graphic  Criminal minds meets gothika type night terrors.

I could deal with the insomnia, the real draining part is the continually and never ending stream of horror that occurs in my subconscious after I close my eyes. Yes I know everyone has nightmares, but mine are the type that make you question if you really just stepped into another dimension for a few hours and if you should turn yourself into a police department. I feel that the dreams are more draining than the lack of sleep itself. Its like my brain is in over drive and I will sound like a complete psycho when I say this but half the time they are fucked up forms of premonitions. ( I don’t expect you to believe me, Im just some crazy bitch who posts too many photos of myself on social media) My ex says its because Im native ( not that thats why Im crazy) Why I have the premonitions. This could be true, pochahontas one with nature 😉 Well the combination of nightmares, insomnia and the occasional sleep paralysis episode makes me feel like Im in fight club. Minus the hot men and the fighting.

I have tried natural cures, not eating certain things before bed, warm milk, sleepy time tea, this that the other. ( I sounded like a senior citizen there.) Well anyways nothing seems to help. So instead I live the life of a vampire without the benefit of being able to live forever.

Oh is that a “Thug Life” tattoo? I didn’t know TUPAC was on Plenty of Fish

I have an addictive personality. This translates over to many different aspects of my life. TV series, candy, red bull, and this one time… Internet dating.

I had never really been “alone” in my teenage/young adult years. I mean not that my relationships in my young life were really functional, but I still had a security blanket of a boyfriend. (Even if he was cheating on me with half of Edmonton.) I was used to having someone around, so when I became single I was like a mentally unstable crack head… Literally. My ex and I had ended our relationship when I was in the thick of my addiction so my sanity wasn’t exactly that of a “normal” human being. 

I then discovered Internet dating. Yes I became a member of every site from plenty of fish to EHarmony. I spent hours on my laptop talking to random guys who probably lived in their parent’s basements or were serial killers. I didn’t leave my house other than to go to work. I spent the hours from 6pm-3am in a hoodie with the glowing from my MacBook screen as my only light. I even recruited one of my oldest friends into my new little web cult.

 

See lets be honest if a drug addict like myself could appear “normal” on these sites who the fuck was I really conversing with. It took me a few months to muster up the courage to actually go on a date with one of these web profiles and when I did… well lets just say I met some lively characters.

 

My first date was with a white guy from the west end, he had a 3 year- old son and seemed good looking enough from his photos. I totally was into this I could be a “step-mom” thing, (Really? a step mom? I barely could take care of a puppy let alone a baby.) Well first off that’s when I learned that pictures on the Internet are nothing like what the person looks like in real life. I don’t know how it happened but before I knew it he was lifting up his shirt to show me his “ THUG LIFE” tattoo that he has so originally tattooed on his stomach. “ Oh Tupac is that you? I didn’t know you morphed into an underweight white guy from Edmonton.”  I will leave the rest of what happened on that date up to your imagination and no I didn’t leave with one of his chainz on.

 

This experience didn’t deter me from the online dating world though. No, over the next few months I continued to surf around looking for new “prospects.” I don’t know if I was more addicted to the attention than anything, I mean I was quite the commodity on these online sites. Loser after loser I began to see that Internet dating wasn’t anything but horny dudes or psychopaths. Substance was something that this make believe world was really lacking.

 

Then their was the “date” that showed me that the stories you hear in the news really can happen to you.

 

This guy was an EMT and firefighter in training, he looked good looking in his photos, he had a dog and seemed “normal.” Not that having a dog makes you normal, but it makes me think that you have some sort of sense of responsibility and come on I love animals.

 

I made the mistake of going over to his house to let him “cook” me dinner. I should of ran back to my jeep when he came out to hold my hand and walk me inside. Well dinner consisted of frozen pizza and his house was actually his mom’s house where he resided in the basement. He kept trying to make me drinks, which I politely declined (I wasn’t going to let this weirdo roofie me.) I don’t know why I agreed to let him show me the basement; I think my brain stopped working for a minute. Well before I knew it he had trapped me and when I tried to move he lifted me up. I pulled some ninja shit and ended up running up the stairs with him right on my ass running after me. Well he some how managed to get the front door to block me in while I was doing up my shoes. This dude was really acting like it “ Aint no thing” that he just chased me like a predator through his moms house. I hit the unlock and start button on my key chain and managed to wiggle my way out of the rape “hug” grasp that he had on me. I’m surprised he didn’t chase me to my jeep. I remember driving off and thinking… I think its time I deactivate my profiles, and shit that was a horrible dinner.

I can’t say that I banished online relationships all together though, Instagram and Twitter have connected me with some of the raddest mutherfuckers from around the world. But when it comes to my love life I just think I’ll leave Christian Mingles off my internet history. 

oh hey there readers. I want to interact with you fuckers so lets do this.

I want to know what you want to know about me. Now don’t ask boring questions like what is my favourite colour or do I like bananas 😉 Get interesting!! Im going to compile the best questions I get and answer them here on my blog ! so comment away, or email me at bee@hushmagazine.ca

NOW DONT SPAM ME WITH DICK PICS OR DATE PROPOSITIONS, you know me.. I’ll put your creepy ass on blast 😉

love

beepss

So I have become “that guy”… & walk of shames in thigh highs

Just because I don’t drink or snort coke doesn’t mean I don’t like to go out and have a good time. Come on I’m 22 not 90 and enjoy a good night of shaking my a$$. I will admit for the most part I am a bit of a recluse, I like to sit at home with tea and write, or spoon my 5 pound dog. But I do begin to go stir crazy If Im inside for a prolonged period of time. 

When I first stopped substances people would tell me I would never be able to go to a club again because it would be to “tempting.” Well maybe it was the fact that Im stubborn as fuck and like to prove people wrong or maybe I really just had no desire for the substances. Whatever it was, I began to go to clubs sober and learned how to enjoy myself while sipping on red bulls instead of downing vodka waters.

Ill be honest the first few times it was awkward as fuck. I stood there looking at everyone who was wasted or high on MDMA and thought to myself ” How the fuck am I ever supposed to have fun around all these people?” Like anyone who has tried to go out sober will feel me when I say drunk people can be annoying… annoying as underwear that are awkwardly up your ass or briefs that are squishing your balls. Its not exactly a desirable situation to be around of a bunch of intoxicated humans when all you have is your sugar high from your red bull. 

Eventually though I got used to it. Instead of being annoyed I appreciated the fact that I didn’t have lipstick smeared across my face at the end of the night. I became the DD and would buy shots for my friends… living vicariously through their drinking minus the morning hangover. To be honest I really feel like Im the lucky one. I can go out for 4 hours of dancing and wake up the next morning without feeling like a pile of shit.

My lack of drinking though does not preclude me from other oh so enjoyable situations. If you have read my blog about women wanting the D you’ll remember that being at a club sober makes drunk men a lot less desirable. This being said, I am not an angel and like any sexually active human sometimes fall prey to a bar hook up.

I never understood what it was like to be a man dealing with a drunk girl in a bar until I got sober. Its a whole different ball game when you aren’t on the same intoxication level. For a while I started to feel like a rapist. I remember when I used to get wasted an wake up after a one nighter “OMG I WAS SO WASTED LAST NIGHT.” I now know how the dude laying next to me felt. You feel like a slight creep. See at least being a good looking female you can get away with the whole taking advantage of a drunk guy easier. Because lets be honest, most dudes would appreciate waking up with a naked woman in their bed. Still though I started to feel like that guy. That weirdo that goes to the club and hits on drunk girls. Except in this case I was a sober creep hitting up drunk penis. ( Well hopefully the penis was still sober… if you know what I mean.)

Bar hook ups usually mean one thing the next morning. WALK OF SHAME. There is nothing like strolling through a hotel lobby filled with business professionals in nothing but lace shorts, thigh highs and a body suit at 9 am. ( this makes me sound like a prostitute, I dress like I belong in a rap video and my friends are from out of town.) I mean its different when you have downed a bottle of vodka the night before. I feel like that somehow excuses the shameful walk you take the next morning. But when you’re sober, well when you’re sober you have no excuse. No, no those poor life choices you made the night before that landed you half naked with a birds nest on your head awkwardly trying to hail a cab at 8 am those you made with a supposed “clear” mind. I feel like I should be more prepared, change of clothes, toothbrush. Evidently if I had these things Id look like a complete whore who does them on the regular. Which Ill be honest Im not that lucky to get laid on the regular.

I also start to feel like I need to make sure the guy is okay. Get them water, tylenol. Text them so they don’t feel used. You know fake compassion 😉

In the end though, I have decided to walk down the street or hail my cab like it aint no thang.

Maybe more people should try wearing fishnets at 9 am.

photo; Joon Koo

Getting naked on camera & facing life without drugs shoved up my nose

I used to live my life on drugs. I pretty much sprinkled cocaine on my cereal. I was more “normal” on a copious amount of detrimental substances then when I was off of them. 

When I made the choice to turn to the sober side of the spectrum I had to relearn how to live life. How to live sober, do things like regular people.. or at least like people who don’t pour half a mickey of vodka into their morning coffee.

See when you are doped up on illegal substances or filled with liquid confidence things seem a bit easier. Your inhibitions are gone and the things you fear become a bit more manageable. So I felt like a child re learning about the world when my security blanket of cocaine and ketamine were diminished from my existence. I had to learn how to do the simplest of tasks sober, and found the most insignificant things fascinating. I was literally like a 5 year old kid on Christmas at least once a day. Like who at the age of 22 gets overly excited about going to the movies? This girl, this girl right here.

I moved to Vancouver 6 months into my new lifestyle change, pretty much on a whim, not knowing what the fuck was going to happen when I made this change. Well fuck I really never expected half the things that have happened to happen. This year been full of some ridiculous and interesting experiences.Its one thing getting used to walking down the street sober, or going to a club but getting naked on camera or stripping as a nun down a runway is a whole different story. I feel like the way I worded that gives off an interesting impression.

I decided to try this whole, don’t say no approach to life since I relocated from Etown to this beautiful city. (I have never been a “shy” person, but there are many things that scare the absolute shit out of me. I always had this “perfection” complex which made me self sabotage myself in many situations. The fear of falling flat on my really great a$$ or looking like a complete moron made me turn down many situations. ) 

For example; I have never been comfortable with people taking my picture, I mean yes I have taken over 10,000 photos of myself, but its completely different when you can see the photos instantly versus someone else looking at you through a lens. So when people started to ask me to “model” for them I consistently would deny their requests. Until I one day I decided to say yes.

My first experience was on the set of a music video. I thought I was going to be an extra in the background, I could handle that, Thats what I had prepared myself for. But no, no before I knew it I was one of 2 main bitches in stripper heels, a spiked bra and some sort of couture version of the cone head looking hat on my head. I pretty much shit my pants when the cameras started rolling, like wtf was I doing? Where was I? Was this real life? Well it ended up being real life & I instantly became extremely good at the whole faking it until you make it way of life. I have since then become a master at this art. Thrusting myself ( yes I do a good pelvic thrust) into each new opportunity that comes my way. I have Gogo danced, modelled, gotten naked on a runway, started writing and faced almost every one of my fears without a mood altering substances. I won’t lie 9/10 I drink a whole bottle of pepto before a new endeavour because I feel like I’m going to shit myself but none the less I don’t say no. Well ill say no to somethings, like going on a date for $5000 with a weirdo from Facebook. yes this has actually  been offered. 

My new clarity and lack of cocaine has made me able to be a part of bomba$$ projects and have made sure that instead of making the impression of Lindsay Lohan I build positive relationships. Which has made me appreciate being high off life. I know that sounds cheesy, and it is. So pretend I never said it.

 

you’ve all seen my boobs. sorry I’m not sorry.

Never trust a straight man you meet in a gay bar… Your vagina will end up on FB

So if you have followed my blog entries from the beginning you may remember I mentioned, “dating” a dirty hippie who never showered when I moved to Vancouver. I use the term “dated” loosely, very loosely when I refer to this, well we will call it a lapse of judgment. 

I moved to Vancouver alone, with really knowing no one. I also decided to move during the winter, which if you live in Vancity you know this is the most depressing time of the year. Not only does the sun disappear permanently but also the rain NEVER stops which makes you want to kill yourself after about a week.

When Christmas time rolled around I had been In Van for two months and decided to fly home for some dysFUNctional holiday fun with my family. I think I was in some sort of depression, not a real life cut yourself depression more like an overwhelming loneliness depression. I looked like I had the body of an emaciated 15 year old boy from not eating and I was constantly sad. Like a real life but not as cute version of Eeyore (see I love the rain, I really do, but even   though I grew up in freeze your nipples off snow weather I still had sun and the lack of sun was killing my mojo.) 

Well I decided to go out to the gay bar I used to work at when I was an insane drug addict going through my lesbian phase. Drag queens, and hot gay men telling me I look like a model, come on what else is better for your self-esteem. If a straight man tells you you’re a model they are trying to get it in, if a gay man does then you’re actually hot.

My night was going good, high off sugar filled red bulls I was booty popping on the dance floor surrounded by my fav homos. See I don’t know what happened and at what point I decided that a greasy haired guy in a wool sweater was hot but that lapse in judgment was one of my worst SOBER decisions.

We hung out the whole week I was in Edmonton and I seemed to have fallen in some sort of deranged lust with this human being. My sister told me I was a moron and that the second I got back to Vancouver I’d realize I that I was making a poor life choice making this guy my “FB official BF.” I personally think FB official shit can S a D but I was obviously smoking the sober crack at the time. 

I went back to Van and started school the next week. My sister was right and after 2 weeks of being home and making friends in school my loneliness began to fade and my brain began to reappear. My instant BFF Kristen kept telling me I needed to dump him, and believe me I wanted to but he was ULTRA nice and had already booked a trip to see me for VDAY so I decided to wait it out.

Well while I waited it out I realized what a psycho this dude was. I mean we hadn’t even really dated, at all, come on we knew each other for a week then I left. He would send me texts that were literally insane. Ex;

Thinking of you always, like a meadow full of love, life and beauty. 

His mom would FB and we never met, he would continually tell me how I’m more beautiful then a unicorn. To be honest it was partially my fault I should have told him to lose my number. VDAY came and left and he was back in Edmonton. It was time for me to end this. We really weren’t getting along (for obvious reasons) so I stated the obvious and hung up the phone.

Then it began, the calls, the texts, and the obsession. He wouldn’t leave me alone, he would go from calling me a cunt to saying he loved me. It was pure insanity. Fatal attraction minus the affair and the rabbit multiply the craziness. It was constant and draining, then began to get scary. He’d MSG my family, friends, my 16-year-old sister.

Then it happened. My vagina on fb. (See I won’t lie I’m the queen of naked photos, I possess a disgusting amount of a$$ shots of myself. For a brief time I liked the guy, and he had already seen it so I sent him some nudies while we were “together.”) 

My 19 year old called my in a panic but I was in class so I forwarded it to my vmail. Then a screenshot of his FB page appeared with a clear shot of my vagina and leg tattoo as his profile photo. Not a titty nude, full on kitty. I had him blocked so I couldn’t see but my sister ripped him a new asshole and he took it down. This dude was insane; I mean his mom is on his FB! Well that’s when I made a call to the friendly PD who came down that evening to file a report.

Of course they’d send out 2 young male cops. I showed them the copious amount of texts and threats about him coming to van to find me. Then the vagina shot. See I’m a pretty open person but even I can’t handle showing 2 cops in their mid twenties my full out lady hole so I forced my roommate into it. After my lovely meeting they filed a report and called him to tell him he had to end all contact with me. FINALLY PEACE.

The insane calls, messages ended and no more Vagina FB profile photos. Never trust a straight man you meet in a gay bar.

 

 

 

yes this actually happened.