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A letter unsent
You told me you loved me over and over, and I believed you. Never for a moment did I doubt that infinite love, or feel rejected, abandoned, less-than. I was chosen. I chose you. My eyes met yours and we became one forever. You held me and have never let me go. I loved you
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On Embarrassment
Once upon a time, my embarrassment threshold was incredibly low. Everything was a potentially embarrassing moment. Toilet paper stuck to my shoe? Oh my god, how horrifying. Mother discussing my breast development with a friend? Agonizing embarrassment. Stinking up the office washroom? Death by embarrassment. Having something stuck in my teeth in public? Scarring embarrassment.
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Make it so
I vowed to say, “No” more often this year. It didn’t turn out as I’d expected since I took on a few too many volunteer positions, and I’ve since backed out on many of those. I give in far too often and end up giving too much of my time and myself to others. That’s
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Banana Oatmeal Superpower Cereal Bars
For some reason, at approximately 10:30 last night I decided to try making some cereal bars. I’ve never made them before so I Googled some recipes but nothing fit exactly the ingredients I had here, so I made something up. And wonder of all wonders, they’re incredibly delicious. So naturally, I’ll share the recipe with
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#iusedto
Recently, I started reminiscing with a grade school friend over Facebook about the things we did in elementary school. We had poofy bangs, and fluorescent socks, listened to Paul Abdul and wore leggings with long sweaters. That conversation started a long string of thoughts, and I thought about all the things I “used to” do.
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Birthday realizations
Once upon a time. Back in the day. When I was little. I used to. Remember when. Now. I celebrated my 37th birthday last week, and admit I felt a little tingle at the base of my skull; the hairs stood on end, excited and invigorated as I inched ever closer to 40. It’s somewhat of
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100 Lies People Tell
100. It wasn’t me. 99. I’ll only eat one. 98. I don’t have time to work out. 97. I invented that. 96. I’m not good enough. 95. I need others to make me happy. 94. I’m better than him/her. 93. I’m not attractive. 92. My opinion doesn’t matter. 91. If I had more money, life
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Mini Egg Shortbread Cookies
Confession: I have no idea how to make real shortbread, but someone else calls these Mini Egg “Shortbread”, so I do, too. Make sure you’ve got Mini Eggs in the house, for starters. That’s pretty much the delicious key to these cookies. We (obviously) buy the ginormous bag of Cadbury Mini Eggs at Costco this
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It really IS me
If you’re not one, you won’t get it. You’ll look at those of us who are and think we’re weird. Or shy. Or nervous. Or snobby, rude, elitist, cliquey… Introverts. We’re those strange creatures who live on the very edge of your social circle and confuse everyone inside. We’re the people you look at and
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Vagina. Penis. Breastfeeding. Period. THERE I SAID IT.
I spend my days with two kids, so I get my fair share of poop humour and grosstastic experiences. I can tell you that just today my two-year-old son tried to make me eat his boogers, and also pooped out of his diaper twice. While giggling wildly. My five-year-old daughter was much less grody today,
