Stuff And Things… Things And Stuff

Some how, like I typically tend to do, I landed on my feet. The lease has been signed and I have two keys for a two bedroom apartment in my wallet. Technically speaking, I have two homes right now. Bananas right? I officially move in on Saturday so I’ll talk more about this after I’m in and settled.

Instead, I’m choosing to speak about Luke. I slept with him again… and again. He slept over last Friday. I was cool about it though. I didn’t come running. We did things on my terms. I played hard to get. He didn’t just fool around and peace though. He slept over. I don’t know how I feel about it. Part of me doesn’t give a fuck. Part of me missed him.

Last night I’m jolted awake by the sound of my Golden Retriever barking. Like a fool, I don’t lock my door. He herd the first door open and was on alert. My girl is silent. She doesn’t get it. She cries when she thinks I’ve just gotten home because she’s excited to see me. Knowing that I’m already home and in bed though I guess she didn’t feel the need to join her brother and bark.

I’m frozen. I’m wearing an over sized tank top and nothing else. No bra, no panties. It’s after 3am on a week night. It’s either Luke, or someone is breaking in. My apartment is tiny. They layout is weird. There isn’t a balcony or a second exit. Even if I wanted to make a run for it while being basically naked there’s no where to go. There’s no where to hide. If it’s not Luke than I’m clearly dead. So I sit, frozen, in bed, staring at the door that connects to the stairs that leads to the outside door. Waiting for it to open. Waiting for my heart to stop racing.

If it wasn’t obvious by now, it was Luke, and not a murderer that happened to be passing by.  He comes in and asks 50 times if this is ok and if I’m mad. Relieved that I’ll live to see another day I tell him to stop babbling and get in bed. He jokes that my dogs are jerks and that he really just wanted to sneak in. I’m just happy my incredibly friendly golden retriever knew enough to alert me of stranger danger. I check my phone and sure enough there were text messages from Luke 15 minutes prior asking if he could sleep over.

Luke tends to babble, like I do. He also has similar anxiety issues that I have. Our banter can be pretty entertaining. I cuddle into him while rubbing his chest like I typically do and he starts to worry.

Luke: What if I snook in here and you had another guy in your bed?

Me: I don’t know. That’d rank pretty high on the awkward scale

Luke: What would you do?

Me: I don’t know. Start locking my door?

Luke: You can’t do this with anyone else ok? Cuddling, and rubbing my chest. That’s our thing. You can’t.

Me: Well, there isn’t another guy in the picture at the moment so I think you’re safe for now.

This little exchange left me feeling a little weird. You can’t lock down my amazing cuddle skills. I’m sorry but if I meet someone that I connect with am I just suppose to say “Sorry, you’re a great guy, but I promised my fuck buddy who can’t commit that I wouldn’t cuddle with other guys” Like seriously? What was he thinking?

We had sex. Good, solid, 10/10, best sex I’ve ever had sober sex. It just didn’t end. Multiple positions. Have you ever had something feel so amazing that you think you might actually cry? Yeah, that good. I didn’t even give him a blow job. I just got out of this world sex that I can’t stop thinking about.

He called me sexy. When he first crawled into bed. He was super attentive. I joked about how he wouldn’t be able to pop by once I move as I was further away. He responds with *New City Name* isn’t that far away. I’m still going to come in and sneak into your bed. Later a few hours later he called me Babe while I was on top, something I don’t like to do often, and asked if I was ok and if it was good for me.

What the fuck is happening here? What is he doing? What is he thinking? I can’t let this keep happening. I love the sex, and I’m definitely not going to put a stop to that… but unless he commits I can’t fall down that rabbit hole again. No more feelings. We vibe so well but I can’t sit around hoping he’ll change his mind.

Fuck Luke. What are you doing to me????



Italy asked me to be his girlfriend. Two days later he finds out that he’s been given a promotion running the Montreal location…. that happens to be seven hours away from me. He decided it would be best if we no longer speak. Lovely. It’s cool though. I’ll just keep playing with Luke for the time being.

Next please.

Drowning On The Inside

To say that I am overwhelmed would be an understatement. I’m trying so incredibly hard to keep everything together but it’s proving to be an impossible task. It feels like I find a solution to one problem and then 50 more pop up… like weeds. Some how, some way, I manage to find a way to make it through, but this time I’m not sure if I will.  It always comes down to money.

I made the difficult choice to move in order to be more financially stable. The utilities in my current apartment were bleeding me dry. I was getting deeper into debt with each passing month. Moving isn’t cheap though. It’s a long term solution but provides short term challenges.

I need $1,400 by May 24th for first and last month’s rent. I need $300-$400 to pay for a mover. I also need to purchase furniture and a microwave.

In addition to that I currently owe $500 in back rent on my current apartment. $150 for the last hydro bill. $75 for my past due internet bill, $240 for my past due cell phone bill. I currently have $300 in my account. That isn’t going to get me very far.

It gets better though. The AC isn’t working in my little car. Since I still have 25 000km left on the warranty I ask service to take a look. Turns out there’s about $1000 worth of repairs that need to be done that should have been done after my accident last October. The one that forced me to enter a consumer proposal in order to manage the repairs because insurance wouldn’t cover it… because I was broke and missed payment.  I’ve been driving around for 7.5 months with a shredded S belt, among other things. I drove to and from Montreal, a 7 hour drive one way, thinking my car was in great shape.

So, in a week and a half I’m likely to be homeless and I can’t even live in my car because she’s busted up. I’m at my breaking point. In the grand scheme of things it doesn’t seem like that much but when you don’t have it, and no way of getting it you find your self getting desperate. I’m back to having panic attacks even though I’m still seeing my counselor and taking my anxiety meds. I’m freaking out and on the verge of tears on the regular. I just honestly don’t see an answer as to how to get past this… and that’s just the money side of things.

For those of you who followed me before my divorce you know I’ve had to climb mountains to overcome the mess my former husband left me in. You know how hard I’ve worked and how far I’ve come. I’ve accomplished things I never thought I would. I’m tired though. So so tired. I can’t keep this up. There isn’t enough room in my car for all my stuff and my dogs. I just don’t know what to do but to sit here and cry.

When it rains, it pours.

I did a thing…

Italy blew me off twice in one week. Not intentionally I guess but it’s way too early in to be doing that. The first time he had a work emergency and the second he couldn’t get away from family. Both things are understandable but I’m not about to sit around waiting on someone again like I did with my former husband. I got upset and annoyed that plans that he initiated fell through twice in a row. So I slept with Luke… because I am an awful, terrible, self destructive person. At this point in time I don’t even give a fuck.


I’ve been off my game lately. I’m miserable and stressed out and overwhelmed. The obvious solution to that problem is a night of binge drinking with my best friend. Now that’s he’s back in Toronto from living abroad, and I have a car, I find that we’re seeing each other much more frequently now. I was actually just out there two weeks prior.

City life is expensive as fuck. I honestly don’t understand how he survives out there. I was his date to a birthday dinner/bar night for his friend’s 30th Birthday. We shared a cheese pizza, a garden salad and a bottle of wine and we paid $65 a piece… We literally shared a meal meant for one person. At the first bar the round of drinks I paid for was $48 which included 2 shots of vodka and 2 double vodka sodas. Not something I can swing on a regular basis, especially since I’m super broke right now. Thankfully I have $90 in babysitting money.

I always feel better in the city with Tyson though. We get dressed up we go out and live live. I experience things I wouldn’t have experienced on my own. For 18 hours I was happier than happy and without a care in the world. I looked hot, I danced my ass off, I drank, I had fun. Now I’m back in the real world and miserable and stressed out and anxious. I just need to get through May.


Well, Hello There

Luke messaged me yesterday morning. First time in three weeks. Made small talk, acted like he was actually interested in what’s going on in my life. Then proceeded to try and convince me to call in late to work to “hang out” and that he would buy me breakfast.

Obviously I said no, politely of course. I explained that I needed to be at work and that I was counting calories and didn’t need his breakfast. He then continues to make small talk about how hard I’m working and well I’m doing at this weight loss thing… and then proceeds to ask me again

Luke: Do you want to see me later?

Me: Possibly

Luke: Oh

Me: What are your intentions?

Luke. Cuddle. Fuck. Blowjob

Me: I thought you didn’t want that

Luke: Today I do

I left it at that. It’s been three weeks since I abruptly grabbed my keys and left his apartment without saying a word. I cried the whole way home. I felt dirty and repulsive and not worthy of anyone. Three weeks have gone by after he said that he only wanted blow jobs from me and he thinks he can convince me to miss work to satisfy him in exchange for breakfast? Seriously?

No thank you Luke. No thank you.

Set To Self Destruct

I went on a date last Friday. Like an actual legitimate date. We met on plenty of fish. When it seemed like we might click we exchanged numbers and texted back and fourth, then switched to phone calls which lead to a date surprisingly enough.

This wasn’t my typical fuck boy date though. This particular gentleman caller is 36 years old, Italian, and very old fashioned. We weren’t just meeting for coffee down the street from my work where I could easily escape. He wanted to take me out on an actual real live date at a nice restaurant where he would pay. I was a little floored to be honest. I took it as an opportunity to dress up a little and put in some effort. I even attempted this hair braid headband thing I saw in a tutorial video on facebook.

Instead of meeting at the restaurant he picked me up at home. He greeted me at my front door with flowers, my favorite actually, and chocolates.  He opened the car door for me and held doors at every opportunity that arose. We had great conversation the entire night. He politely spoke up for me when my order came out wrong when I was going to let it slide. When the bill came he reached for it right away not even giving me the chance to offer to pay. At the end of the night he walked me to my door and gave me a hug. He was a perfect gentleman.

We’ve been texting non stop ever since and have had lengthy telephone conversations every night. He’s an incredibly sweet guy who genuinely feels that he struck a home run by finding me. He’s so amazing that it’s almost intimidating. I almost feel like I’m not worthy of this kind of kindness and courtship. I don’t deserve it. I’m not wholesome and sweet. I’m divorced. My former husband ran from me without so much as a good bye. Luke decided I was only good enough for blow jobs. My first serious relationship ended with him telling me that I wasn’t wife material. I’m damaged goods.

I think maybe I’m self sabotaging. Someone treating me the way you’d want to be treated feels foreign, wrong even. It’s like I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop. A co worker told me that she was a firm believer that everything happens for a reason. Things end with Luke and then I meet the gentleman caller, we’ll call him Italy. The day of our first date I receive the stamped paperwork that states that 31 days after April 24th 2017 my former husband and I are officially divorced. My co worker feels these are signs.

I’m not sure if I believe in signs but I do know that there’s a pretty good chance I’m going to fuck this up some how. I always do.

Goals And Stuff

So as I mentioned in a earlier post, I’m working on loosing more weight. I had been going to the gym before Luke told me I was too fat to fuck but I wasn’t eating enough or the right things. Apparently weight loss is 20% working out and 80% diet. I guess that explains How I went from 320lbs to 260lbs.





I can’t be too proud of that massive change. Some people eat when they’re depressed. I don’t. My husband left me and I lost over 60lbs. Those before pictures make me cringe. The only upside to looking so repulsive on my wedding day is that I’ll hopefully get the chance to do it again and look a million times better. I was not proud to hang those bad boys on the wall.

So I lost weight, gained confidence, and even found the courage to buy a fatkini from Torrid. I was killing it.  Unfortunately over the last year I put roughly 15lbs back on. Around my birthday back in March I started to notice my jeans fitting a little tighter and my face looked a little pudgier.



I wouldn’t say I feel repulsive but I’m for sure not happy. I can still clean up well but I have a long ways to go. So I joined this 12 week challenge. There’s about 50 women participating, all who paid $10 to join. Who ever makes the most progress as voted by the group wins the pot. My starting weight for this challenge was 275.4 lbs as of Tuesday May 2nd.

I’ve stepped up my work out routine, upped my water intake, and am planning out my meals and logging everything out in the My Fitness Pal app. As of yesterday, Thursday May 4th, I weighed in at 274.6 lbs. I’m not sure if it’s my hard work, the fact that I’m eating all three meals and a snack, or that all of this water is making me pee every 30 minutes… but I’m excited. It’s not much, but it’s something. It’s a start. It’s proof that if I keep going, keep working, keep trying, that this might make a positive difference.

I want to look good naked. I want my future partner to be able to pick me up. I want to be on top during sex and not feel disgusting. I want to shop at stores that don’t specialize in plus size. I want to buy decent clothes that don’t cost an arm and a leg. I want to wear a bikini and look hot. I want to get pregnant and have an adorable baby bump. I want to run and play with my kids and be able to keep up with them. I want to be a positive role model for them. I want a long and happy life.

So I’m doing this. I’m not giving up. I’ve got this… I think.

First Date Fail

I get a lot of messages on Plenty of Fish. Not bragging, just stating. Most of them are repulsive and not worthy of a response. I’ve taken to posting some the exceptionally awful ones to my instagram and they seem to be a big hit with my followers. Some times I’ll respond with a quote from Letterkenny for my own amusement. Basically what I am getting at here is that yes, there are plenty of fish in the sea but most of them are carp when all you really want is a nice salmon who happens to be tall and rugged and maybe a little scruffy…. Is that a good analogy? I know nothing about eating fish. I’m more of a tropical fish aquarium kind of girl Fish are friends, not food… but just because I personally think they taste awful. Anyways…

Since my falling out with Luke I’ve taken the whole dating thing a little more seriously. Getting sex semi regularly and then not getting it at all and not knowing if or when you’ll get it again is heart breakingly difficult. I’ve decided that I want more than just sex too. I want someone to talk to, walk the dogs with, enjoy a meal with. Apparently I very much am a relationship girl. I’ve been making the effort to actually respond to messages that might have potential and have been talking to a few people.

I met a real estate agent that lived 20 minutes from me. He seemed great on paper but the actual date, if you can even call it that, wasn’t so great. I broke my rule of public meet ups and went to his apartment. He said he had an N64 and that we could play super smash brothers! Getting murdered was a risk I was willing to take for a chance at kicking ass on a 90’s game console. I’ve got skills like you wouldn’t believe. The day before our ‘date’ he says he has a showing and needs to reschedule. Canceling or rescheduling your first date is not a good sign but I gave him the benefit of the doubt.

I get there and knock on his apartment door and he’s texting me but not answering the door. I stood there like a tool for maybe five minutes before he answers in what looks to be boxers or pj shorts.  He gives me the quick tour of his super small apartment and it’s a total bachelor pad. Doesn’t have the proper furniture, Toronto Maple Leaf’s memorabilia every where, movies stack up waist high on the floor. He’s a dude living alone, I can look passed that. I’m rarely in my apartment.  Initially the plan was for him to cook dinner but then he decided he didn’t feel like it and that if we got hungry we could just walk to McDonald’s if we wanted too.

So I come in and sit down and he already has a little bong packed with weed and says he’s been waiting all day to smoke with me. I tell him I’m driving and that I can’t so he tries to guilt me into it. I suspect that he was hoping weed would help him get lucky. I immediately ask about the N64 but he makes me pick a tv series from his pile on the floor. He monopolized the conversation. I’m not even sure if I got out the equivalent of an entire sentence. He spent a lot of time bragging. He told this story about how he got to interview Alyssa Reid and they had a moment. Apparently she agreed to a Taco Bell date the next time she was in town and she replied to a tweet he directed at her. Based on what he was saying though I get the vibe that he was oblivious to the fact that she was just a nice girl trying to be polite.

The thing that really got me though was all of the awkward sexual jokes he’d make at my expense. He kept looking for chances to touch me or make a move but it always came off as super awkward and uncomfortable. Toward the end of the night he asked if I could see myself coming back and spending more time in his apartment. Then he started to talk about how I was going to leave and never talk to him again… super awkward. Then came the straw that broke the camel’s back. I was sitting on the couch half watching the show half listening to him brag about whatever and I was fiddling with the button on my top… something I do when I’m anxious. He then says something to the effect of that I clearly wanted to take my top off for him. Right then and there I said I needed to go. He tried to lean in for a hug as I was leaving but I blocked it and bolted.

I’m not sure if it was the weed, or he’s just really bad at first dates or that he genuinely thought he was going to get laid but it was just bad. All around bad. He put zero effort in. Why should I let you take off my pants if you couldn’t be bothered to even put any on? Serves me right for going against my better judgement. The worst part about it all is that I had to drive home on back roads in the dark while it was pouring rain.

In summery, this date was not worth the gas I burned getting there and back. There wont be a second one.  As Karen and Georgia would say…

Stay Sexy Don’t Get Murdered… byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Not Again 

The friend with benefits is no more. No more benefits and no more friend… although in all actuality I guess he was never a friend. For nine months we were in this weird on again off again state. We’d start getting close and then he’d set boundaries because he didn’t want a  relationship. Then a week later he’d blurr his own lines and sleep over. We’d go with it for a bit and then he’d realize this was more of a relationship and then he’d panic and ghost me for a bit. 

Things came to a head a week and a half ago. We texted/debated back and fourth until he says that he doesn’t want to feel the need to reply to my messages. That he doesn’t want to snuggle and watch movies. He just wants me to come over give him a blow job and then leave… getting nothing in return. He then proceeded to politely tell me that I was too fat to fuck. He was much more eloquent about it that I am but I don’t see the point in sugar coating it. 

His reasoning was that he was too small down there and I had too much extra cushion to have decent intecorse. I’m calling bull shit though. My ex husband (the divorce is final now) weighed more than him, was smaller than him, and I was 60+ LBS heavier but we never had an issue with sex. Ever. 

After this discussion via text he asked me to come over, snuggle and give him a BJ. At first I agreed but gave a little attitude. The problem is that I had feelings. I had fallen for him and didn’t want to loose him. So I went. I got there though and sat in my car in front of his apartment panicking. I eventually went up. I gave him what he wanted, made sure to give it my all. I was cold with him though. Quiet. When he got up to clean himself I grabbed my keys and left. No good bye no nothing. We haven’t spoken since. 

I was heart broken. I cried the whole way home. I cried myself to sleep. I cried so hard I gave my self a migraine. But once I got passed that I got angry. Really angry! How, after everything I had been through, after everything I had accomplished, how could I let this happen again? I found my self attached to someone who was only concerned about their own needs and didn’t care about me in the slightest. 

Then I decided to do something about it. I signed up for a 12 week weight loss challenge. I started using the weight machines at the gym and stepping up my game. I go more frequently and stay longer. Yesterday I did an hour of cardio and an hour of weights. I want that confidence. I want the ability to shop at a normal store. I want to look good naked. I want sex. Lots of sex, with someone more deserving than him.