Finding My Footing

For the first time in my adult life I feel disorganized.

I’m a girl who likes lists. I use my day planner on the regular, I make lists of books I want to read, places I want to go, makeup I want to buy. I like to prioritize. But these past few months I feel like I’m constantly chasing after my life. It’s running away and I’m just trying to keep up with it.

My new position is challenging, but in the best way possible. Being in charge of an entire district that is spaced out over such a large area has been hard to manage. I’m finding that I’m spending most of my week in the car, in the air and in hotels. But I know I need to be grateful. I was bored in my last position, and if it wasn’t for this promotion I’d be sitting in my office twiddling my thumbs. My first week managing the district I came home on the Friday and I broke down. I was mean and nasty to Geordie and I felt like I was not going to get the hang of things. But I’m the consummate overreactor, and things are starting to make sense. I just need to find the time to write things down, set the bar realistically, and open my eyes to see the results I’m getting instead of just feeling overwhelmed.

Kelowna is a lovely city and the transition to living here has been easier than I had anticipated. Our new condo is beautiful, and it’s so mind blowing to have all of this space and be paying less than what we were paying in Vancouver. I finally feel settled and can spend the time sprucing the place up knowing that we’ll be here for the foreseeable future. People are nice here, it’s almost like being back in Winnipeg, except the scenery is better. It’s a smaller city, big enough that it has a Sephora, but small enough that people still have manners. It feels comfortable.

I’m also getting back to basics with my food and exercise, but that’s a post for another day.

Finally, I have to rave about a product. Being the beauty product whore that I am, I’m always looking for something to make me feel better about my poor, unbalanced skin. And then this came into my life.


This mask has saved my life over the past two weeks. My skin has been looking tired, dull and uneven. I’ve used this twice over the past couple of weeks and I can honestly say it is the best mask I have ever used from Lush (or anywhere else for that matter). It’s gritty texture makes for a great exfoliant when you’re washing it off, and it gets slightly warm, which always tricks me into feeling like its working better! And in comparison to most lush products this is not that expensive at all. My new fave.


I had planed to write a big long schpeel about being one year post op. And then I was clicking through the VSG vlogs that I enjoy watching and I saw LessOfSarah’s latest video. Dr. Aceves, who performed countless¬†bariatric surgeries including my own passed away. I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel absolutely gutted. I’ve heard before that people can have a certain “messiah complex” when it comes to their surgeons. I wouldn’t go as far as to say that I saw Dr. Aceves as my savior, but I did and still do credit him as the man who gave me the tools to take back control over my life. Continue reading


Remember back in the early 2000’s when livejournal was still a thing, and msn messenger usage was rampant? Is my age showing by admitting that these kinds of things were everything to me when I was younger? Along with these terrible online outlets for teen angst, there was also the ubiquitous “survey”. Where you would answer random questions about yourself, 0r give a certain number of facts about yourself and then your friends would do the same. I’m feeling a bit nostalgic for that so I decided to do a 27 facts about me, since you know… I’m an old 27 year old hag. Continue reading

Sometimes I Like to Get Drunk…

And blog, and listen to bad music, and pretend I’m Adele circa 2007. This is what working in Fort St. John has done to me. I retreat to my hotel and drink too much Pinot Grigio (eww since when do I drink white wine?) and snack on almonds all while crooning “Make You Feel My Love’.

I have to drink alone in my hotel room because last weekend I was stalked around the hotel bar, and on to the next bar by this creepy woman and her super cute Irish boyfriend. Apparently her name was Lisa as well and she was trying to get me to have a three-way with them. It was terrifying. I don’t do three-ways. I only do me-ways. Continue reading

The Ties That Bind

My family dynamics are complicated. I’m sure everyone feels this way in some capacity, but I feel it to the extreme.

I haven’t spoken to my mother in nearly 3 years. Today she called me to tell me that my uncle who I have very little contact with is dying of lung cancer. It was the strangest conversation of my life, when it ended I felt a strange sense of emptiness. Not emptiness in the sense of loss, but emptiness in the sense of being totally devoid of emotion. My mother and I have never been particularly close. I acknowledge that I probably wasn’t an easy child to raise. I was very closed up, unable to express my emotions. But my mother is ill-suited to be a parent. She can be maternal, but there are issues mentally that I feel make her unable to make the selfless sacrifices needed to raise a child, especially a daughter. Continue reading

Exotic, Adorable, and Other Words I Detest.

As I’ve started to become more self-aware (and less clueless) I’ve discovered that men are attracted to me visually. Not that I’ve never had a guy be interested in me, but usually it’s because of my fantastic personality, or my seemingly obsessive knowledge of trivia. But nowadays I catch men staring, I get complimented more regularly. But sweet goddamn, some of the compliments are so awful I don’t know where to begin. I have to question myself, am I overly sensitive to the way certain words sound or are the men who find me attractive complete asshats? Lets discuss shall we? Continue reading

Bare Face, Big Hair, Don’t Care.

I have an obsessive personality. I don’t know how to enjoy things halfheartedly. When it comes to losing weight it’s been fantastic. I’m so obsessed with working out, eating protein and counting carbs that I’ve been more successful that I ever imagined.¬† But when it comes to the more trivial and materialistic things in life it can be a bit much. Coffee, tea and WWII memorabilia are things I obsess over. But at the top of my list, makeup. Continue reading

The Play By Play to End All Play By Plays

Surgery is over and done. Now the hard part begins.

I left for Surgery with Dr. Aceves on Monday June 3rd. Which ended up being the longest day of my life. My Dad, who has been my ever constant supporter flew with me, and due to time constraints we were up before the crack of dawn, 3 am to be precise. From there we headed to the airport for our long flight to San Diego. The worst part was not being able to eat after 7 am. I was dying, and when I fly I tend to need something in my stomach so I don’t get nauseous. But these are the sacrifices we make right?

As soon as the driver Ernesto picked us up we headed to the hospital for blood work, an EKG and a chest x-ray. We got to the hospital and I was quickly greeted by Karla, Dr. Aceves’ coordinator. She ushered me in for the tests. My mind was racing and all I could think of was that there would be something wrong with the test and I would be sent back home, wasting all of my Dad’s time and money. After the testing was completed my Dad and I were sat in a room where we met Dr. Aceves. Now I understand why some people have this “hero” complex about him. He is simply amazing. He’s no-nonsense, but also very passionate. He tells you exactly what is expected of you and makes no bones about this being easy. From there Dr. Campos came in. He assists Dr. Aceves and also plays the role of nutritionist. Aside from being exceptionally good-looking he is also a great resource and breaks it down to a comprehensible level. He’s also quite funny, and helped lighten the mood. After than Yolanda came in, who also works for Dr. Aceves in a coordinator type role. She took the rest of the payment and was lovely enough to give me some Ativan (apparently this is common practice with Dr. Aceves’ patients).

From there I went back to the hotel to have my “last meal” and have a good snooze. Although Dr. Campos instructed no more than 2 margaritas or glasses of wine, I decided to abstain which was a huge feat for me, even my Dad was shocked. I nibbled a little at some fajitas but I was really too anxious to gorge myself like I thought I would. Took the Ativan and slept like a baby despite the fact that my Dad woke me up at midnight, he read his watch wrong and thought it was 6 in the morning and that we were going to be late. Slept and slept and woke up terrified. I hid it well I think, but I was just so nervous. All of the what-ifs started taunting me. What if it doesn’t work? What if there are complications? What if I die? I had to resign myself to the fact that I was in capable hands and that I had come to far to back down now. So I sucked it up, picked out the room I wanted since I was the only surgery that day (of course greedy me picked the most spacious room). The anesthesiologist came in, the internist came in, Dr. Aceves and Campos both came in. Then Perla, the youngest, sweetest most competent nurse I have ever met (and I come from a family of nurses) took me to the operating room where she teased me for having a Spanish last name and not being able to speak Spanish.

I got on to the operating table where a male nurse started wrapping my legs in compression bandages and commented that the liked my tattoo, the anesthesiologist then asked me “Did they give you a tablet?” to which I started panicking because they hadn’t, and then that was it. I was out cold.¬† Next thing I know I’m in a strange room screaming that I’m in pain. Then they give me more Morphine. From there I’m send back to my room. I’m feeling super nauseous from the Morphine. Dr. Campos informs my Dad that they gave me too much Morphine in the recovery room considering how sensitive I am to it. I freak, as for the kidney bowl and start throwing up blood. After that I’m fine. Absolutely fine.

That night I started walking and doing my breathing exercises with my spirometer. Each day it gets easier and I’m walking more and more. By the last night I’m walking at my usual pace and have enough pep to do my makeup. Dr. Campos tells me that I don’t even look like I’ve had surgery. I swoon.

I’m a week and two days out and I feel fantastic. My incisions are healing beautifully, my scars look like they’ll be pretty minimal. And I’m down 17.2 pounds since the morning of surgery.

I know it might be too early to say it, but I feel like this is the best decision I’ve ever made.