I still fall... a lot

I feel like it's been a long time since I've shared any of my clumsy tales on the blog... so today I'm going to share three separate incidents that have all happened in the past week. Just because I don't always share my stories on here, it doesn't mean that they don't still happen.

I've been known to fall on the bus, lose my pants while chasing the bus down a crowded street, fall through a deck, walk into any table or door, and trip over every sidewalk. Like I said, just because the stories haven't made it onto the blog in a hot minute - it doesn't mean that they've stopped.


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Exhibit A:

Last Friday, Amanda and I were leaving a football game and walking to a local bar to hangout before heading home for the night. En route from the stadium to the bar, we had to walk under an entire sidewalk covered in scaffolding. Normally, this wouldn't be such a problem or seem like a big deal, but we were walking behind a group of about 7 or 8 guys and they were walking too slowly for my liking... so I decided to walk past them and cut through the scaffolding ahead of them so that I wouldn't be stuck behind them the whole time.

You know how the scaffolding bars/pipes do a criss-cross thing? Yeah, I didn't see it. Like, at all. I smoked my head off of the 'criss-cross' part as I was trying to cut in front of them. The entire group of men saw this, laughed and proceeded to make comments the ENTIRE way to the bar. Amanda was laughing, I was laughing and possibly cursing, and the guys were shouting things like: "SHE CAN TAKE IT LIKE A CHAMP!" "OOOOOH THAT HAD TO HURT - YOU'LL FEEL THAT TOMORROW" or my personal favourite,
"God love Canadian girls, they know how to take a good hit and just keep going".

Yes, I took the hit like a champ and kept on walking to the bar. But I'm not going to lie - it hurt REALLY badly and continued to hurt for a few days.


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Exhibit B:

I was running late and had to actually run for the bus one morning last week. I saw the bus coming down the street but I knew if I bolted across the street, and the few blocks down, that I would be able to make it to the stop just as the bus was getting there. As I'm running across the street (I live on a busy 6-lane highway type street), my music that's blaring in my ears from my iPhone just stops playing. I assumed I had somehow unhooked my headphones but continued running. As I'm sprinting for the bus stop, I'm feeling around in my pocket and my purse to grab my phone - but I can't find it. Anywhere.

I stop on the spot, squat to the ground, and frantically search through my bag - my phone is not there. I panic and start running back towards my house. Just at that exact moment, I see my poor phone lying helpless in the middle of the highway street and I watch as it is run over by not one, but two cars (and possibly the bus that I missed).


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I think I yelled at a few cars not to run over my phone, because I'm crazy like that. I then proceeded to run into the middle of the street (with traffic coming at me) to grab my phone before it was run over by yet another car. Somehow, miraculously, the phone was 100% okay. No scratches, no marks, nothing. Thank god for my Otter Box case. It's a miracle, I swear.

Exhibit C:

Last night I decided to go for a quick run when I got home from work. Despite the fact that it was only 6:00pm it was already completely pitch black dark outside. Instead of running my regular route, which primarily involves alley-ways, I had to run along all of the streets throughout my neighborhood. I was so focused on not tripping over the sidewalk, or slipping on leaves; that I was continuously looking down at the ground instead of looking straight ahead. This worked out really well, I didn't trip... but I did run into a tree. I then started laughing at my sheer stupidity and looked up to see a family of 4 staring at me as I casually jogged away giggling laughing hysterically and texting my friends to tell them what I had done. No shame, friends. No shame.






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Walter White & Jesse Pinkman

Have you ever been so addicted to something that you can't stop thinking about it 24/7? This might be slightly dramatic, but this is literally how I have felt for the past few weeks. So I'm here today to come clean and admit my addiction.

Hi, my name is Faith and I am addicted to Breaking Bad.

Now before you judge me, let me go ahead and explain. Juliette and Sami encouraged me to start watching it, and I had heard so many things about it over the past few years - so I decided to watch episode one on Netflix. Needless to say, I was immediately hooked.

I haven't been able to stop watching this show since I watched episode one. It instantly became an addiction and I have watched the entire series in a short amount of time - which I will not disclose to you exactly HOW short of a time-frame.

I have two episodes left to watch until I'm caught up to date, and lets be honest - ill probably watch both episodes tonight. It's just so easy to watch episode after episode when it's on Netflix (no commercials) and it's on your iPad. This is a recipe for disaster when you find a show that you quickly become addicted to.

I've learned a few things from Breaking bad that I felt I should share, so here we go:

1. Don't cook meth.
I mean, this is pretty self explanatory, it's just a bad idea. Sure, the money is A-freakin-mazing, but a lot of people get hurt (or killed) in the drug world. I lost count of how many innocent (and not so innocent) people died throughout this show. I couldn't ever cook or sell meth since it involves killing people - I have a hard enough time killing a damn spider. Don't worry, mom - not being able to kill someone isn't the ONLY thing keeping me from selling meth. I'm not good at chemistry either.

2. Family means more than money.
Oh Walt. Your family means more than any of that money EVER will. Seriously. I wanted to reach through the screen and shake him about eleventy billion times throughout the five seasons of this show.



3. Good guys can turn bad and bad guys can turn good.
Jesse, season one & Jesse, season five = TWO COMPLETELY DIFFERENT GUYS.
Walt, season one & Walt, season five = TWO COMPLETELY DIFFERENT GUYS.
Oh, Walt. You went a little nuts.

4. You miss what's under your nose the entire time.
Hank, buddy, come on. You run the darn DEA agency and you don't realize that your brother in law is the king-pin meth cook, Heisenberg, and you're feeding him ALL of the inside intel. You're dumb. But it makes for good TV, so proceed.

5. Create the best possible alibi and lie for your entire life.
If you go against lesson #1 that I shared, and decide to cook meth (and distribute it) anyway - then please be careful. Learn from Walt's mistakes, and learn from Jesse's addiction problems. Skylar making up the lie about Walt's gambling addiction = genius. The car wash = genius. Buying expensive cars when you're supposed to be an unemployed cancer patient = dumb.
Please note, I do NOT condone this behavior but if you decide to do it any way - don't be dumb about it. Oh, and lawyer up.

And now I'm done. And now I'm just really sad that I'm basically caught up to date. And now I don't want to watch the last two episodes because then I have to wait for the next episode like everyone else. And really, this is all just problematic. And this is the exact reason that I avoid watching TV.

Sketti Shenanigans - Part II

Happy Fat Tuesday, friends.



Yesterday I posted about my weekend, so today I'm going to join Ms. Shenanigans again for some more weekend shenanigans. A few weeks ago, I may have had a few too many drinks with Jennie and we came up with a plan to make Honey Boo Boo style sketti, and film it. Dumb idea. I re-watched this video last night, and I may regret posting this... #YOLO (kidding), but it's kind of too late now.

Leggo..
Yeah, I just said that.

I'm warning you now, this is the exact reason that I'll never have a cooking show.
Also, this video is 10 minutes.. sorry. It's long, I know.



Maybe next time I'll do a video of juggling, Honey Boo Boo style.

5 Signs That You Might Be A Stage 5 Clinger

If you follow me on twitter, you may know that Juliette, Allie and I kind of blasted everyone's feed for over an hour last night. Oops, sorry about that. Not really.

Our conversation started because of Allie's amazing 'online dating' posts where she shows some of the amazing/creepy/strange people that she finds in her online dating adventures. This is one of my favorite series of posts (EVER) and I felt the need to spam her with eleventy billion pictures that I've found while browsing Plenty of Fish. Poor Juliette got spammed too - but she secretly loved it, I promise.

During my searching process I came across a few VERY interesting profile write-ups. There were a few guys that I knew were Stage 5 Clingers RIGHT AWAY.

Guys, if you're reading this: Don't be THAT guy.

I don't want to read in your profile that you're "actively looking for the love of your life". No.
One guy said he needs to find his 'forevership'.
One guy was saying that he wants to find a girl to spend all of his time with...
No. Just, no.


Am I the only one who finds this off-putting?
It just seems like 'too much' for a profile..

Do guys (or girls) honestly think it's okay to put that out there for complete strangers to read? Does anyone actually respond to their messages? Are there other people out there who are actively looking for this relationship too? Will they meet the love of their life on POF?

These are the types of questions that run through my mind when I read these profiles. It just leaves me with a lot of confusion. But mainly, more than anything, it leaves me with one thought: You're a Stage 5 Clinger.


There is just TOO MUCH crazy happening in this picture. One week, that's all it took for her to be hooked.
Seriously though, you need to run for the hills bro.

I thought I should come up with a list, you know.. to be helpful. If you don't know whether or not you're a stage 5 clinger, I hope I can help you figure this out.

5 Signs That You Might Be A Stage 5 Clinger

1. If you tell someone on a first date that you could spend the rest of your life with them..

you're a Stage 5 Clinger.

2. If you only get 1 text reply for every 10-15 messages you send..

you're a Stage 5 Clinger.

3. If you start picking out wedding colors or kids names after dating for a month or less..

you're a Stage 5 Clinger.

4. If you know where the person you're 'dating' currently is because you follow them on Facebook/twitter/Instagram/foursquare and stalk them obsessively..

you're a Stage 5 Clinger.

5. If you're constantly calling this person and they're not answering, so you go to their house and wait for them on the front step until they come home..

you're a Stage 5 Clinger.

Why I Don't Go Clubbing

I'm not going to lie to you, I can party.
I don't 'go hard' anymore, you know... because I'm trying to lose weight and trying to be responsible.
But, in my day (ha, I say this like I'm old), I have been known to be able to party hard. There may or may not have been one night where I consumed 28 shots. I'm pretty sure that Stephanie is the only one who would appreciate (or be proud of me for) that feat. I digress...


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I seriously love dancing. Love it. But ONLY when I'm alone. I'm a horrible, horrible, horrible dancer and I know it.
I can't handle dancing in front of other people (I'm pretty sure I just devastated Helene by saying this. Homegirl can DANCE). I can honestly tell you that I've only danced in front of other people maybe a dozen or two dozen times, max. I just don't do it. If I'm going to go out for a night of drinking with my friends, it's not at a club. I'd prefer a bar or pub where I can have a chill night with friends. That's just my style.

Warning: This post will be GIF-Heavy, and not safe for dial-up users.
p.s. If you're still using dial-up, I'm silently judging you...

On rare occasions, when I do go clubbing, this is how all of the other girls are dancing:


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Once I've had a few too many drinks, I finally decide to make my way to the dancefloor:


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This how the super drunk girls are trying to get the guys attention:


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This is how I try to get the guys attention:


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The hot girls in the middle of the dance floor... The ones that all the guys are looking at:


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I'm dancing in the corner, hoping that nobody is looking at me:


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Some girls dance on the bar:


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I can't even dance walk in heels:


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Some girls twerk on the dancefloor:


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This is how I twerk it:


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Lets face it, even the guys can dance better than me:


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I wish that I could tell you that some of this post was an exaggeration, but it's not. So, friends and blog readers, please for goodness sake - DO NOT INVITE ME TO GO DANCING. I will need far too much alcohol and I will embarrass you and probably myself in the entire process. Just don't.

I'll leave you with this pretty little visual for you all. When I'm having dance parties, alone, this is what I think that I look like:


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In reality, I'm pretty sure that this is what I look like. Actually, I possibly look worse than this:


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how to look like a lightweight

They say you surround yourself with similar people. That statement has never been truer.

I was going to share another one of my clumsy stories today, but it turns out that Ashley was having her own special moment on the other side of the country. She texted me this story last night, and I felt like it needed to be shared. Ashley, homegirl, the weekend is here. Calm down. You know what they say...

The Eager Beaver doesn't always get the wood.
Edit: When proof-reading this, I realized how bad this sounded. Oops.



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So I just experienced the most amazing burrito at Habenaros in Dartmouth. To my surprise I notice they serve alcohol. This doesn't seem like a restaurant, it's more like a mix of fast food and a restaurant. Regardless, my weekend just started a day early and the Smirnoff Ice chilling in the fridge looked amazing.



Ordered it. Obviously.

As I sat there drinking, I started to wonder if people ever get sloshed at this 'restaurant'. Do they drive home? Will they take your keys from you? Do they even have a liquor license?
I finished my burrito and half of my drink, and got ready to throw out my garbage. I jumped down, off of the massive stool, and TRIPPED on my dumb sandal in the process. I tried to compensate by blaming the chair and pushing it away violently. Which, in hindsight, probably made it look worse than it could have been.
Was I about to have my keys taken away? I panicked. Does everyone think I'm a lightweight?
Obviously I left as quickly as possible. Luckily, I think, no one saw or at least they pretended not to.

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Normally whenever I hear a Lady Gaga song, I have a similar reaction to this:





But Ashley told me yesterday that she had Poker Face stuck in her head, so then it got stuck in MY head. Jerk.
So I guess that's how we're going to #backthatazzup with Whitney right now.

Sometimes we all fall through decks, amirite?

Oh hi there, blog.
Sorry that I didn't show up to the party yesterday, but I voted for going out with friends on Tuesday night instead of writing a blog. Lame, I know.

If you read my blog title, you might be wondering WTF I'm talking about, so lets just get straight to the point.



This one time, I fell through a deck. I'd like to think that it doesn't have anything to do with my weight - because I was a lot younger and smaller when this happened... but I'm sure that my weight probably played a slight factor.

The year was probably 1997, and our parents forced us to go visit friends of theirs one evening. I think that Christian and I lasted a whole five minutes of boring adult conversations. Once we hit our 'max' limit of boring intake, we were bouncing off the walls trying to entertain ourselves. Mom and dad were less than impressed and banished us to the great outdoors.

The owners of the house felt slightly bad for us (I think) so they told us we could go hang out on their back deck. We went outside and did what we were best at - making up random games. We found this spot over in the corner of the deck that was 'softer' than the rest of the deck... of course this piqued our interest. We couldn't leave this spot alone, even if we tried - and we didn't try. We each took turns poking and prodding this spot. Christian took the first shot at lightly putting some weight on the spot and we noticed that it was 'bouncy' like a trampoline. I'm sure you can tell where this is going. We took turns playing with this soft spot (no idea WTF is wrong with us).

After bouncing up and down on the spot for 10 minutes...

I fell through.


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Now to paint this picture, hopefully as well as Bob Ross, for all of you: this deck was probably 10-15 feet in the air, which is basically 30,000 feet when you're 9. I didn't fall all the way through and hit the ground, which probably would have been better. No, I fell and got stuck. Queue the extreme panic from both Christian and I. For a fleeting moment, we thought that Christian could casually pull me out of the hole and we could pretend like the massive gaping hole was always there. Ha. Such naive children.

After one or two pathetic attempts to try and pull me free, I start to PANIC. Like 'OMGZZZ I'M STUCK' kind of freak out. I screamed for mom and dad and Christian ran inside to grab them. They came running outside, along with the owners of the house, to find me casually chilling in the new hole that I had created.


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This was the look on mom's face when she saw me stuck in the hole.

I vaguely remember dad wanting to laugh but keeping a stern look on his face the entire time. I'm pretty sure that mom and dad have never been so embarrassed in their entire lives. How do you apologize to someone after your daughter falls through their deck? After I saw "the look" from my parents, I thought I was going to be in the biggest trouble of my entire life, so I handled the situation with such grace, as 9 year olds typically do. I laid on the waterworks and tried to make the homeowners feel bad for letting me fall through their totally unsafe deck.
I was a jerk, I know.

At the end of the day, they got me out of the hole. I hung my head in shame and my parents took us home.
I still, to this day, feel terrible that I ruined their deck. But, I can proudly say that it had been 16 solid years without a deck incident. Here's to hoping that I make it another 16 years...

Ten People You See At Weddings

Happy Monday, friends.
I feel like the weekend flew by way too fast. It's pretty rude, actually. I hope you all had a fabulous weekend, and that you're ready to get back to the grind!

My Friday consisted of having dinner and seeing Les Miserables broadway production with a few great friends. It was nothing short of amazing, and I promise that there wasn't anything 'miserable' about it. Ha, I'm punny. Okay, I'm not... but lets not go there.

On Saturday, I second-shot a wedding for Teryn Lee Photography. It was a nice day, and I ended it off by having a picnic on the beach. Sunday didn't involve anything exciting, so I won't even recap.


Itty-bitty sneak peak from Saturday's wedding. Boo to my formatting getting screwed up on the picture on the right.

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Since I shot a wedding on Saturday, and since I've shot or attended probably 20-25 weddings now, I've written a list:

Ten People You See At Weddings.

1. 'Uncle Bob' - a term that a lot of photographer's use to describe that 'uncle' at the wedding who brings his 'fancy camera' with the kits lens on it. He usually follows the photographer everywhere they go, and often steps in front of the photographers so he can get 'the shot'. I vote that Uncle Bob gets banned from taking pictures.

2. Grandma Mae - the sweet grandma that wanders around the wedding looking a little lost. She thinks everything that day is just amazing and tells stories about how this wedding is more elaborate than her modest wedding in the 1940's/1950's. Grandma Mae is hands down my favorite wedding guest.


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3. Douchebag Derek - This guy. Oh, this guy. He was probably the grooms roommate at university. He's single, and probably won't settle down until he's 42, or ever. The bride hates him, but agrees to invite him so the groom feels like he has a say in who the wedding guests are. His mission is to hook-up with one of the bridesmaids... but he will settle for anyone who is willing.
Douchebag Derek is his name for a reason.

4. Cousin Johnny - could also be 'Uncle Johnny'. Tells a lot of inappropriate jokes, makes weird/rude comments, and probably makes the flower girl cry. We don't have control over who our family members are, but cousin Johnny needs to go away.


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5. Happy-Go-Lucky Harry - he's probably one of my favorite guests. He's there to have a good time, no ifs ands or buts about it. He's outgoing and friendly and he can't wait for the dance party to start. He is the first one on the dance floor and the last one remaining. He sweats out all of the alcohol that he has consumed and I guarantee that he has a tie on his head at some point during the dance party.

6. Desperate Diana - She will probably hook-up with Douchebag Derek. She's in her late 20's or early 30's and thinks that her life is over because she's the last one of her friends who isn't married. She has a fake smile on her face all day when really.. she just wants to cry. Don't worry homegirl, you're better than hooking up with Douchebag Derek. You won't be single forever. Or maybe you will, I don't know you.. so maybe you'll be a crazy cat lady who never gets married. I just don't know.


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7. Judgmental Judy - she's the one who walks around the venue, judging the flowers, small details, and even table linens. She feels as though she's a wedding pro because she has attended eleventy billion weddings. She knows her shit - and you can bet that she's judging all of your little details.

8. Whiny Wendy - this girl complains about anything and everything. The ceremony starts 5 minutes late? She's complaining about it. Food isn't being served yet? Whine whine whine. DJ isn't playing her favorite song? It's all she's talking about. You just can't please everyone, but Whiny Wendy takes this to a whole new level.


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9. Lush Lucy/Lukey - okay, just call him Luke, I call him Lukey as a pet-name. Anyway, both Lucy and Luke come to the wedding for one reason, and one reason only: OPEN BAR. Yes, they're probably happy that 'X' is marrying 'Y'.. But really, they are there for the party and free booze. Typically they have a few pre cocktail party cocktails just to get the party started. You'll see them constantly with a drink in their hand, usually while they're in line at the bar for their next drink. Don't worry, Lucy and Luke are usually the life of the party - they're fun guests to have.

10. Toasting Timmy - the one who grabs the mic whenever possible and gives as many toasts/cheers as possible throughout the entire reception. He thinks he's the back-up MC, and should probably sit as far away from the podium as possible. At least his toasts get more and more entertaining as the night goes on. My favorite toast I've heard yet:
"I was told that this toast should last as long as it takes the groom to make love to the bride tonight.
So I'll end this here. Thanks for having me."


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What do you think? Are there any other wedding guests I've forgotten?

Disclaimer: This list isn't meant to offend anyone by any means, these are just the type of people that I have come across.
Also, I am not saying that all of these people were at the wedding this weekend.