They Say It's Your Birthday

My Dearest Stacey:

Your birthday is on Thursday. Forty-one years old. I know, it is hard to say without gagging. After all, wasn’t it just yesterday that you were TWENTY-ONE? At least you are a very young 41 (verrrry young). You’ve always believed you were born 10 years too soon so I guess in “Stacey years” that puts you at 31!

You’ve been to Hell and back in the last couple of years. You successfully conquered your demons and came out of it stronger and healthier than you’ve ever been. Be proud of that. It took a lot of courage and determination. Yes, you still have days when your demons grasp at your legs trying to drag you under but those days are fewer and far between now. And you are now able to fight them off before they suck you into their deep, dark, life-draining abyss.

The last 2 years didn’t come without some hardships. Yes, you lost a couple of friends (D&M). People you let into your inner sanctum. People you shared your despair with. As hard as losing these people was, know it was the silver lining in your Hellish journey. Know that these people were never your true friends. They wouldn’t have abandoned you if they were. I know it still hurts sometimes but you really are better off. Remember, look forward, not back. You’ve been doing really well in that regard. Focus forward!

You also left your job of almost 9 years. Leaving that security took guts. But, you did what was right for YOU. You can’t look back. You can’t keep analyzing if it really was the right thing to do. In your heart, you know it was. You weren’t happy and at the end, you were nearly destroyed. There will be an employer who will be thrilled to have you. Soon, too! I promise! You’ve remained so positive throughout this challenging time. Good for you! I know it’s not easy for you.

And I know how much it bothers you that you aren’t the social butterfly you once were. Don’t worry, that will come back in time, when you are ready. You’ve been through a lot but life IS slowly returning to “normal” and you are well on your way to being the super fun, party girl you once were. Remember what your Mom said the other day, she sees the glow in your face again! Your sparkle is coming back!

And you know what? Kudos to you, my dear, for not “needing” a man to make your life complete. Cheers to you for being independent and perfectly okay on your own. That in itself puts you ahead of the pack.

So, Stacey, you pale-skinned freak, always, always remember…you really are a great person. Don’t let anyone tell you different. You Rock. You forgot this once…don’t ever forget it again!

You know I love you,

Stacey xo

My Observations of the Male Species

Seeing as Valentine’s Day is tomorrow I thought I would write a little something about men. Ack… I have the hardest time saying “MEN”. In my eyes, they are still “guys”. Though in my eyes I am also still 20. Sigh. Here are a few observations I have made over the years about the opposite sex. 


1. I don’t care who it is or what they say. Guys…errrr…MEN really are only interested in “one thing” when they first lay eyes on you. If they tell you different, they are lying.  Period. 


2. As presented in one of my favourite movies, ‘When Harry Met Sally’, men and women cannot just be friends. I truly believe this.  If you are a woman and have, say, 5 male friends I can guarantee you that 4 of them will eventually fall for you or at the very least, want to sleep with you (whether this is verbalized or not is moot). The fifth guy in this scenario? Gay.


3. There are men out there who will almost always choose the blonde. At least it has usually been that way in my experience. My whole life I have been the brunette friend that they chat up to get to the blonde.  Jerks.


4. In the same vain, a lot of men also prefer  the airhead. The girl that will laugh at jokes she doesn’t get, the girl who will agree with everything, the girl who will completely change her likes and views to appease “her man”. To these guys, boob size is more important than the ability to converse. 

5. While most of society is repulsed by them, there are in fact men who embrace the “gold-digger” (an animal whose population is out of control and is in definite need of culling). Makes sense though as these women will do virtually anything for a designer bag and cubic zirconia earrings.


Now before y’all go ape-shit on my spinster ass, remember...this is just what I have personally witnessed in my (nearly) 41 years. I realize there are exceptions to every rule and that there are just as many women who exhibit questionable behaviour (which I’ll save for another post).  I also realize there are some pretty great guys out there. I’m just not sure where they are?


You know you love me,


Stacey xo

Valentine Confession

Hi. My name is Stacey. I am a Valentine virgin.

I have never been taken out for a candlelit dinner at an overpriced restaurant where they try usher you out as quickly as possible so another couple can also pay $35 for a $10 bottle of wine.

I’ve never received a bouquet of roses that will inevitably die within 48 hours. Truthfully I prefer dead, dried roses anyway. But that is beside the point.

I don’t have a collection of future garage sale teddy-bears clutching giant hearts with cheesy messages on them (i.e.” I love you beary much”.) 

I’ve never had a bath drawn for me with floating rose petals in it. Not really sure why anyone would want rose petals in the bath unless you enjoy picking them out of your ass when you get out?

See you at Shoppers for cheap Lindt
chocolates on Feb 15!

 I don’t open my mailbox on February 14 to find a $10 Hallmark card. I mean really, you might as well just take that $10 and throw it straight into the garbage can. The only people that save shit like that are future guests on Hoarders.

I guess what I am trying to say is this, I am 40 years old and have never received a Valentine’s Day gift that wasn’t from my parents (bless their hearts). I used to be very bitter about this. I would colour in the February 14^th square on my calendar, black. I would post anti-Valentine’s Day messages on my Facebook. But, my days of being bitter are over. No, not because I have decided to embrace the “holiday” but because the world doesn’t need further proof that I am a jaded Spinster.

You know you love me,

Stacey xo

She is SO Strange

 We all do little things that make us stand out from the crowd. That makes us individuals. That, at times, even make us seem like we are completely off our rockers. Some people find these actions annoying. Some find them endearing. But, regardless of what people think, these are the little things that make us who we are.  Here are a few little things that make me Stacey. Don’t judge.

It appears I have a couple of OCD-like tendencies (I’m sure some of you would argue I have more than a couple…to you I say never mind). First, I am a “checker”. When I leave the house, after I lock the door, I MUST check it 3 times. If I don’t do this ritual, I will leave and then inevitably have to turn around to come home and check that the door is in fact locked (it always is). I’m also a “counter”. For instance, when I wash my face in the morning, I splash it with water 6 times, at night when taking off my make-up, 10 times. Yeah, I don’t know either.

Another weirdo quirk I have has to do with my car stereo. My volume is numerical. I know, you are probably saying, “yeah, so what?”  Well, when I am playing my stereo, the volume has to be set at either an even number or a number divisible by 5. Please, don’t ask me why because I don’t know. I suppose this could be attributed to OCD too. Oh boy…I don’t think I like the pattern that is developing here.

This one I have had for many years. If I am walking with someone, doesn’t matter who or where it is, they MUST be on my right side. This started sometime in grade 10, I think. It really makes no sense, especially because I don’t hear as well out of my right ear as I do my left. So, if you are ever walking with me, either assume the position, or watch me stealthily move to the other side.

Do you eat the first piece of cheese when slicing into a new brick? I don’t. I always throw the first piece in the garbage (which is odd because I hate wasting food). I don’t know if it is because of the lines on it from the packaging or if I somehow think it tastes different.  Ummm…yeah.

Here’s one more. After all, if I write about all of them, I might get a visit from a couple of nice men with a white, buckled jacket for me. Anyway, when I am reading, I cannot insert the bookmark mid-chapter. I must, no matter how pages are left, finish a chapter before placing the bookmark and putting the book down. This is somewhat normal, isn’t it? C'mon. Humour me! 

So, those are a few of my little quirks. A few peculiarities that make me Stacey. A few oddities that are either terribly irritating or frustratingly adorable. What makes you strange?

You Know You Love Me,

Stacey xo

Let's Hear it For the BOY!

 I recently read my childhood diary. I found a particular entry that really stood out. To say I've been a very open-minded, accepting person for a long time is clearly an understatement. It seems I have always been drawn to people who are a little "different". Actually, let me clarify that. Different according to society’s incredibly suffocating standards.  

In my entry of January 18, 1984 (it's not a typo...1-9-8-4!) I wrote about my love for George O'Dowd, commonly known to most as Boy George. Yes kids, the Karma Chameleon of Video Hits and Good Rockin' Tonight. The dread-locked, fedora wearing songstress who ripped my heart out every time he sang 'Do You Really Want to Hurt Me' (NO my love...I would NEVER hurt you). I was teased incessantly by my square classmates because he "looked like a girl" and wore make-up. I didn't care. I LIKED boys that wore make-up. I STILL like boys that wear make-up. I remember getting into arguments and screaming at the top of my lungs in my deafening 12 year old girl screech..."I DON'T CARE IF HE IS A TRANSVESTITE...I LOVE HIM" (I have another diary entry to this effect). I'll be perfectly honest, this was Saskatoon circa 1984...I was 12...I had no fucking clue what a transvestite was. All I knew was that he was different and didn't care, he caused a stir and I LOVED him for it all. 

So, without further ado, thank you Boy George for making me so open minded and accepting at such a young age.

Now please join me in accepting everyone, JUST AS THEY ARE!

You Know You Love Me,

Stacey xo


PS. I am working on the look of my blog, as you can see. Please be patient while I perfect it!