May 2011
3 posts
I don’t give a fuck what you say, I think Sum 41’s “Screaming Bloody Murder” is a badass song.
I really wish I could answer most questions with “because you’re a fucking twit.” I think that would really be the most helpful thing at this point.
March 2011
6 posts
I don’t think I’m ever going to be okay. No matter how long I’ve been clean for, or how many days since my last episode, I always have the persistent thoughts running through my brain and they’re so hard to manage. I’m sick of smiling and nodding and pretending to be normal when on the inside I’m just screaming and clawing at my skin and thinking that it would...
And I can’t figure out how to respond to replies on here using my phone so don’t think I’m a giant bag of bitch.
So my father-in-law needs a bone marrow transplant because he has cancer.
And I can’t cry yet because I have to hold this shit together for a little longer.
So I just realized that the only people who flirt me these days are my patients. Not even my husband wants to hit this. Fuck.
I hate this.
96 Quite Bitter Beings →
So while I thought my last post was pretty clear, there are a few of you who are a little confused. I guess that I made it too long for some of you to actually comprehend. So let’s just get right to…
February 2011
13 posts
I think I need a fill-in husband for when Brad’s at work. So I’m currently taking applications for someone to mess up the house, whine constantly, and not fuck me. Any takers?
So over the past few months I’ve been putting my resume in for a lot of different positions. I love working with seniors, but I’m just not being challenged enough right now. So I applied on surgical units, acute medicine units, as well as ER, ICU/CCU, and just about every RN position that doesn’t involve working with children. I’ve had a couple of interviews, and things...
Because really, in the end, isn't it far better to...
quiyst:
Knowing all the future regrets I’ll have because of paths not taken terrifies me.
Things are changing. So today, I managed to offend a bunch of people on Twitter because I muted someone who I find to be a judgemental dick. Someone pointed out that I, too, am always mocking the Internet vernacular (guilty. I have a hate-on for <3s and words like “besties” and “tweeps”) which then resulted in a lot of passive aggressive bitching. And normally I’d...
Well, that was a bust.
This is not the day for rejection.
So 13 years ago today, Ian Gordon murdered his two daughters and common-law wife. My friends. And I can never, ever begin to understand or forgive or forget.
I hate February.
So who’s got two thumbs, a pretty badass set of cans, and a job interview tomorrow?
That would be me.
So I’m taking an unscheduled hiatus from Twitter. I’m not coping well with the baggage that always comes with the first week of February, and every time I open my timeline someone is causing drama. It’s like being with a bunch of teenagers. I legitimately care about some people on there, but I can’t handle the catfights right now. So I’m just going to lurk on here for...
January 2011
5 posts
So a few weeks ago my friend Rebecca managed to score tickets for her, her fiance, The Husband, and myself to go see the Jagermeister Tour in March when it comes to one of our cities universities. Since I like to be prepared, I’ve been updating my music collection with Bleeker Ridge, My Darkest Days, and Buckcherry (I already had all the Papa Roach albums because I want to do naughty things...
So I’ve been using my new phone’s browser to follow people on here, but that’s been fucking up hardcore so if you’re like “what the fuck, bitch?! Why’d you add me five times?” It’s not my stupidity, it’s the phone. Sorry, my apologies.
Dear bitches,
I am not trying to steal your husband. If I wanted him, I’d already have him and we’d be having raunchy rough panty sex on the kitchen table by now. However, I don’t want him. We’re just friends. So do me a huge favour and stop inserting yourself in all of our conversations and into my life in general.
Sincerely,
Michelle
Confessional
So I made the decision to detach this account from my Twitter because I don’t want 400+ people stalking this thing anymore. Not that I’ve really been using it, or my official blog as of late. I’ve been so busy with work and moving and trying to keep my shit together long enough to make it through another day that I just don’t have the energy to be online much anymore. ...
September 2010
2 posts
I’m Still Here →
So apparently I’ve been notably absent from here for over a month. Some have thought I died, others just didn’t care. Instead, I’ve been busy doing the whole socializing in ways that don’t involve…
I’m pretty fucking lucky. In the past year, I’ve seen the following concerts:
Marianas Trench, The Mission District, The New Cities, and Carly Rae Jepsen on Halloween ‘09
Guns N Roses
Motley Crue
Bif Naked (rare acoustic performance)
HIM
Our Lady Peace (twice in one week, by the way)
Marianas Trench again at the Stampede
And The X92 X-Posure Wrap-Up Party with The...
August 2010
2 posts
I’m Okay, I Think →
In which our heroine is still alive.
Don’t Try This At Home →
In which our heroine tries to guide the younger generations.
July 2010
16 posts
So we’re heading out to the farm for the night, so I won’t be able to fill my usual boob-picture quota. I know, you’re heartbroken. You’ll survive. Maybe you’ll need to seek therapy for this. I don’t know, I’m not a doctor. If anyone urgently needs me, my phone is on. Otherwise, deal with it.
Love,
Michelle
Still Angry →
In which our heroine is angry. So, so angry at her ex.
Guitar Villian →
In which our heroine laments her struggle to play guitar.
Finally, Validation! →
In which our heroine is kind of famous, but not really.
Wait.. There’s Fun Stuff? →
In which our heroine needs a job.
I have no idea why I married this man.
(this all comes from my earlier rants about how no one remembers the good music)
Brad: Why are you so upset about all this?
Me: It's like people not knowing who Pantera is! It's like no one knowing "Cowboys From Hell". Wouldn't that piss you off?
Brad: Nope.
Me: It wouldn't piss you off if no one remembered Metallica?
Brad: Nope.
Me: If no one knew what the fuck a SNES was?
Brad: Nope.
Me: Get the fuck out of this house.
Okay, I Feel Better Now →
I’ve been putting this post off for a few days, hoping that I would find some witty and sassy way to share all of this. However, there is just no hilarious way to go about sharing all of this, so…
Good… I Can Feel Your Anger… →
In which our heroine outlines reasons why you should still be pissed off.
Don’t Talk To Strangers →
In which our heroine.. Fuck it.
Oh, That Was A Good Idea. →
In which our heroine makes a fatal Facebook faux pas. See that alliteration? I want a gold star.
Another reason why I hate Facebok? People who hijack my status updates.
Me: I got my temp license to practice as a nurse!
Sarah: I’m a temp worker!
This is not relevant. At all. I have a document stating that I can practice as a nurse in the province of Alberta, and will be writing my RN exam in October at which point I will be granted a full license to practice as a RN.
Sarah has...
Just Don’t Feel The Same →
So I told myself I wasn’t going to make another serious post for a long time due to the fact that I hate talking about certain aspects of my past unless I’m 10 drinks in. And I’ve been working on…
So was today “send your students passive-aggressive emails” day and I just wasn’t informed? If you didn’t receive my past SEVERAL assignments, don’t you think you’d say something waaaaay before the end of the course? These are things that could have been brought to my attention LAST MONTH. Since when did “self-directed learning” become “not...
Boys, Boys, Boys →
Wherein our heroine describes her quest for male approval.
Bad touch! Bad touch!
Every single day this week, this guy has grabbed my boobs when I’m applying the blood pressure cuff. At first I thought it was accidental because he has long arms and my rack is substantial. But no, today he actually did the cup-and-squeeze. I’m putting an electric fence in my bra.
June 2010
6 posts
Riding The Hot Mess Express: A Hussy’s Guide →
In which our heroine discussing drinking and debauchery.
I love my patients.
Patient: There's an AA meeting downstairs today. We should go.
Me: Umm, I don't know what people have told you about me, but I'm at peace with my demons. We're in a good place.
Patient: I meant for you to take me. But now I'm curious about how you spend your weekends.
I’m A Nurse, Not A Hooker →
In which our heroine takes aim at Helen Mirren.