perfect ten {vol.12}

I didn't recognize the kid that we threw a party for last weekend. If I could ask her, in all seriousness, if her soul slipped from her body and left a vindictive pouting crispy shell of a human in her place, I'm certain she would say a soft "yes."

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perfect ten {vol.11}

I'm tired. This week was tiring. Let's have a fucking nap and wake up when all my obligations are done. So, 2079. This weekend Stella's birthday party runs for two hours. That's 120 minutes. I bought 700 snacks and have been thinking really hard about cleaning, dusting, mopping, vacuuming and replacing the burnt out light bulb in the bathroom. But really, I think slamming up a giant poster of Elsa and dumping three kinds of chips into bowls will be the grand extent of my party prep.

Oh, and the 20 cans of lukewarm Coke on the deck.

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perfect ten {vol 10}

So, after a birthday week filled with Earnest ice cream, screamingly good people I love, and enough sugar to drown a cat, this weekend finds us on the island attending a wedding where I know 46% of the people there and I'm going to dance like Beyonce's blind cousin. WooooOOOOOooo!

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perfect ten {vol.9}

Every Saturday morning the kid and I stumble into the kitchen and make pancakes (her) and black tar heroin coffee (me.) I put on the last Queens of the Stone Age album, and she adds bowel busting food colouring to the four bowls of pristine batter. I make too many and she eats very few, but the ones she does devour have either crunchy red sprinkles or tubed icing worms on them. It's a sugar abomination, but syrup sure as shit must also spike blood sugar levels. It's a small way to be in the same space with an almost 4 year old before the weekend starts and she is shipped off to Grandma's house. It's me and her. Wrinkled jammies. Startling breath. Voices low with sleep. We clank around and wake up the place together. It's probably my favourite part of the weekend, next to Sunday morning when I get to SLEEP THE FUCK IN.

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perfect ten {vol.8}

Did you know a life without sugar is JUST BARELY worth living? I'm struggling here, folks. After a rad weekend in Victoria, the only bright spots of this long slog of a week were finally diving into Eleanor & Park, and picking up The Leftovers after a dismal 4th episode had turned me off. Oh, and also the weather in Vancouver right now is like the dreamiest of dreamboats. And I am still alive after drinking raw eggs blended into coffee. MORE ON THAT BAD ASS FRONT SOON. #RockyAsFuck 

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perfect ten {vol.7}

So, this week I cut out most sugar and carbohydrates from my diet. I figured why not feel like murdering everything and everyone, just for fun? So, be warned. There's a lot of inspirational shit and sugary shit below. Enjoy!

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