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2014 Canadian Weblog Awards nominee

Happy Tea Bags

I wished that Shawn had fixed the patio screen in the summer because every time a passing breeze catches its frayed ends, I think I’m seeing people out the corner of my eye. Maybe I am. Could be your grandpa or your beloved cat. She says that she hates you for giving her the “pass go-do not collect your cat nip-go directly to  inferno” card.

Asshole.

Look at her:

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Clash Of The Couples...your dead cat wants you to buy that book

Sweet Jesus what is wrong with me?

Depression.

That is what is wrong with me.

I’m having a hard time doing much of anything and that is if I want to do much of anything at all. I’ve been sitting in and around the kitchen for a good part of the day crying because I pretty much told a woman that she was fat when she yelled at me because I walked my son to school in -11 degree weather, dog hair that clung to the side of the bathtub, how to kill my dog, why does my psychiatrist need to take a 2 week long holiday, and over this bag of tea. Yes, this bag of tea.

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I won this bag of irony at a Steeped Tea Party. Jesus is clearly laughing at me

Companies need to stop labelling their products “Happy” because people who aren’t happy want to feel happy and if the product is telling these sad lads and lasses that  happy is in the package, those sad people will buy it.

Or win it.

“Happy” looks a lot like yard waste and high school pot parties in cornfields.

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Fast forward past the part when I realized that I needed a tea infuser thing and I texted obscenities to Shawn about defrosting shrimp which had nothing to do with anything tea related. And then I MacGyver’ed this bitch.

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See, I am not a waste of resources.

It’s a coffee filter with an elastic band.

Let steep for the allotted 5 minutes.

That’s too long, I think to myself.

Probably out loud to myself.

It’s too long.
It’s too f*cking long to get to happy.

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Depression isn’t like any other illness. There’s no prognosis, no Mrs. Morand, you have approximately 4 weeks for the symptoms to subside.

It’s waiting.

I’m left in all the pieces that depression smashed me into.
I’m all torn apart and now I’ve got to work on healing my mind, body, and spirit while I wait for my medications to help heal me I am desperately begging pleading for the bloody medications to work.

I don’t want to wait anymore.

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I wish that feeling not depressed was as easy as kicking back and drinking a cup of MacGyver’ed up Happy tea.

I wish that I’m not seeing things.
I wish that your cat isn’t dead. Your grandparent probably is because death is a part of life and cats are assholes.
I wish nothing but a good cardiac surgeon for Miss You Shouldn’t Walk Your Kid To School.
I wish that someone would shave my dog.
I wish that my psychiatrist paid for my parking.

Mostly, I just wish that while I wait, my family doesn’t suffer along with me. I love you all with everything I have and I’m trying really hard except for when I’m watching Dr.Who and The Walking Dead.

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*Im sure that there are people out there who think that we are in search of happy in a pill. There is no such thing. Anti-depressants help level our moods. They are only part of the healing process. We, the patients, also have to work on ourselves in order to heal.

Ps. So I am in a book called Clash Of The Couples. I’ve done a horrible job at promoting it. I am very proud of the book. We’ve been in the top five slot for Amazons hot new releases!!! So check it out!!! Great gift!!!

Because Booze Made Me Do It

I don’t know how I fell through time and landed right there on the ground. Where “there” was I  had no idea and honestly, I didn’t care because for the first time in a long while, I was happily unhinged from depression. I suspected that I was in the bathroom because my cheek was cold and pressed firmly on ceramic tile. I lifted my head and the shadows in the room spun. My hand steadied my body as I smoothed my way up one wall to find a light switch and flipped it on. It was my bathroom. There were french fries scattered all over the floor. How in the world did I make it home, I wondered. My hair was disheveled, tile grout creases on the side of my face and I was still wearing my tacky vest.

 

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I started to laugh.

Then I threw up.

O Alcohol, I still drink to your health

The first drink I ever had was when I was thirteen years old. My girlfriend’s parents had gone on holiday and “they” had left a window unlocked. Since “they” were so careless, we had to sneak in to make sure that they unplugged the toaster and turned off the oven. While we were in there we figured that we should have a drink so we mixed each bottle of alcohol into on giant pitcher because we had no idea what we were doing.

If being a bad ass meant growing chest hair in a single evening then we had succeeded.

I started drinking again when I was in high school. I was dubbed with the nickname Puke because I had no self-control. I was once found in a city garden ass up holding a quality chicken Caesar pita.

You can blame my then boyfriend Bart.

Which just hit me: The title of my blog is a reference to a Homer Simpson quote.

 

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Oh moonshine…oh moonshine

 

Sometimes I choose to ignore the black box warnings that comes with each of the medications I take because I don’t like feeling bad feelings and I don’t like having bad thoughts and for the love of Jesus Christ I want to laugh without having to force it.

I don’t like the itchy feeling of wearing this ugly vest that I purchased for 3.99 at a thrift shop and I want to wear it that son of a bitch without remembering that I’m actually wearing it.

I cannot dance and that I’m actually shy but by the grace of booze I can rock on stage with this guy with his crazy ass hair.

 

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I have no idea how I made it home but Shawn said he had to google my location. He said that I called for a ride at 10pm.

“Must’ve been a really wild night,” he chuckled.

Then I threw up.

I thought that Alcohol was just for those with
nothing else to do
I thought that drinking just to get drunk
was a waste of precious booze
But now I know that there’s a time
and there’s a place where I can choose
To walk the fine line between
self-control and self-abuse

Alcohol – Barenaked Ladies

 

 

Old School Blogging Random Things peppered in there


Stacy Uncorked

Netflix Is Laughing Through The Cold | #StreamTeam

My son and I walk to school everyday with the exception of  heavy rains and gusts of wind that will ruin good hair days.

So that cold weather everyone has been whining about….

…you can bring it.

Canadian Winter wear

Canadian Winter wear

 

How do we survive these wicked winters you might ask yourself? We are Canadians!

 

I stuck to the car when I traced this with my tongue. What?

I stuck to the car when I traced this with my tongue. What?

 

We have winter coats, mittens, toques, warm Canadian blood, and a bad arse attitude with a side of a sense of humour courtesy of your mom and Netflix.

Just kidding.

Yes, aside from our walks to school and playing in the snow or road/pond hockey we are indoors making art, watching movies or driving each other nuts.

Photo 2-17-2014, 2 36 45 PM

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This November, Netflix is brining the funny to rid you of the winter blahs. Movies for the big kids such as:

 

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1. Shrek Forever After
2. Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs

3. Despicable Me
4. Dr. Suess’ The Cat in the Hat
5. Kung Fu Panda 2
6. Mr. Popper’s Penguins

And for the wee ones:

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This is just a sample of all of the hilarious titles that Netflix has to offer all year round. So go on. Grab a big sweater, fuzzy blanket, hot chocolate, giant cookie, your loved ones, snuggle up and laugh those winter blues away.
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Disclosure:  I am a member of the Netflix #StreamTeam and received a one-year subscription to Netflix and a Roku media streaming device in return for posting Netflix updates and reviews, however, all opinions are my own.

It’s Ok. I Already Know.

When I was little, my parents imposed a rule that I was not  allowed to leave the kitchen until my dinner plate was practically licked cleaned. I remember sitting at the table one evening and hating my existence because eating thrice killed-mummified roast beef was torturous.

“Did you know that there are starving kids in China? You should be grateful,” my parents snarled.

My dad went on to point out that was afforded many wonderful things like Strawberry Shortcake everything and toys and that pink bike that I just needed to survive.

 

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Then he talked about flies and swollen malnourished bellies and suddenly I was one hundred times more grateful, grateful I cried, that I had cut up roast rocks smothered in ketchup at the end of my fork.

And I felt incredibly guilty for complaining because I had no reason to.

I had food and dolls and sneakers that had a pump and a toilet and they did not.

“Be grateful for what you have Kimbers.”
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When I was a teenager, I complained over trivial things like having to cancel my eyebrow wax appointment so that I could drive my brother to the walk-in clinic because he sliced his finger open.

“Some people don’t have eyebrows Kimbers,” my parents said.

And then suddenly I was grateful, one hundred times more grateful for having eyebrows that resembled caterpillars and that the doctor, the free doctor was able to stuff the fatty tissue back into my brother’s finger.

And I felt guilty for complaining about the whole ordeal because I had no reason to.

“You should be grateful Kimbers.”

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Sitting alone right here in my living room with crumpled tissues in my lap, I am struggling to get through the rest of my day.

I like to reflect, find positives by counting and recounting my blessings. Sometimes it is incredibly difficult to find something that made me FEEL grateful to be alive. I look under the couch, in coat pockets, and even in the fridge just in case I missed something. Pictures of loved ones, fuzzy blankets, the kid’s cut up colouring pages, crazy socks, the scent of my self-indulgent salon quality shampoo, and caramel popcorn – small things that create this wonderful life.

My wonderful life.

 

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And that is the bitch about bipolar depression:

People reminding me of what I already know: that my life is chock full of blessings and I should be grateful not sad.

“But you have a supportive husband and an amazing kid. Family and friends who love you. Rainbows. Puppies. Pants. Kimbers, you have a good life. You should be grateful for all that you have. You should be happy.”

And suddenly I feel guilty, one hundred times more guilty because you pointed out that I have no reason to be sad.

Yes, I should be happy, but I’m not because I have depression; an illness that I didn’t choose.

Having depression doesn’t mean that I’m not grateful for the life I have; the wonderful life that I’m fighting to get back to living fully.

 

 

 

Linked with Ten Things Of Thankful crew because I am thankful for a life that is full of amazing wonderful things.

Wanted: Glorious Mess Makers

Question: What’s both beautiful and horrifying?

Answer: Devil’s fart  a.k.a glitter.

We used to host Halloween parties because we were the only ones stupid enough to have a house full of drunk people in costumes. In the aftermath, there was always evidence that a good time was had by all.

A trail of chocolate cupcake crumbs from the basement to our bedroom.

Foam stickers on our bathroom mirror.

Mullet wig hung from a wall scone.

Shards of red glass.

And glitter.

Glitter.

You can never get rid of it.

So why did we stop having parties?

Because we had a kid and we kind of like pimping him out for candy. Kidding. Slightly.

Twenty adults don’t measure up to the epic messes that a child can make, especially when I had allowed containers of glitter to cross the threshold of our home. Yes, I was wearing my brave mom panties that day. I saw a really cute and super simple craft on the internet that I thought would be fun.

Glitter pumpkins.

Supplies:

Pumpkin (I used small sized pumpkins but you can live on the wild side and use a big one)
White glue or spray adhesive
Sponge on a stick or paint brush
Glitter
Spoon or a container that the pumpkin can easily fit into for “dunking”
Newspaper

  1. Cover your work surface with the newspaper.
  2. If you’re using white glue, paint the entire pumpkin except for the stem using the sponge on a stick. For the spray adhesive, spray the entire pumpkin.
  3. While the glue/spray is still wet, dunk the pumpkin into the container of glitter and roll it around so that the surface of the pumpkin is covered. You can also do this by sprinkling the glitter using the spoon. Leave the pumpkins to dry.
  4. Shake off excess glitter that did not adhere to the pumpkin.

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I know…nightmare.

Sometimes kids aren’t the only ones causing messes. Moms do too.

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Might as well add to the mess and hand your six year old a paint brush. What is wrong with me?

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I know, glitter, small pieces of scrap paper, and paint sounds like hours of cleaning. But no fear, Green Works® is helping us “Glorious Mess Makers” clean up this craft tornado.

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Clorox Green Works® line of naturally derived, affordable products that clean powerfully without harsh chemical fumes or residue.

A little bit about the products that I used to take care of the mess:

Green Works All Purpose Cleaner

    • made with plant and mineral based ingredients. Use it on counters, appliances, stainless steel, sealed granite, chrome, cook top hoods, sinks and toilets to cut through grease, grime and dirt.

Green Works Dishwashing Liquid

  • dermatologist-tested and made with plant-based biodegradable cleaning ingredients. It removes grease and baked-on-food, so dishes will be clean and shiny without harsh chemical residue.

Green Works Cleaning Wipes

  • 99% naturally-derived and can clean up spills and messes on non-wood surfaces, acrylic, fiberglass and vinyl.

Green Works Laundry Detergent

  • dermatologist tested and safe for sensitive skin. Safe on colours and made with naturally-derived, plant-based ingredients, the detergent cleans without leaving a harsh residue on clothes and is specially formulated for both standard and high-efficiency washers.

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So now that our messes are clean, we are ready to start making more because, you know, fresh countertops and clean clothes are magnets for dirt!

Are you a Mess Maker?

 

Disclosure: I received the above products and a care package in exchange for this review. All opinions are my own.

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