Just a Guy

“He’s just a guy. Just a guy,” I mumble, more to myself, but of course everyone around me can hear what I’m thinking.

I’m sitting alone at a table kind of people watching, but really staring down the door every time the bell rings and light spills through the open door and another stranger walks in. But it’s not you. I sit alone at this “well loved” bar across this big ass city, waiting to meet you. You are the stranger I’ve never met before. You are the stranger I gave personal details to even though we haven’t truly connected on a level that can only be achieved with being face-to-face.

And as much as I’m worried you were secretly cat-fishing me the entire length of our virtual conversation, I’m more worried about myself. Me. What if you walked in the door, took one look at me and decided that it wasn’t worth it? I wasn’t worth it? What if I’m not skinny enough, or pretty enough to be able to be seen with you in public? What if you decided that I looked better in pictures instead of in person and you chose to walk away?

All the what-ifs in the world are going through my mind as I sit there adjusting my dress and draping my sweater over my shoulders just in case there was too much cleavage and to comfort my nerves. I look up to the ceiling and take a deep breath, anxiously hoping that when I open my eyes you will be standing there. You’ll be standing there waiting for me to open my eyes, all judgements cast aside and a willingness to just get to know me. ME.

If you were to get to know me, really know me you’d find a girl with a big heart, a creatively crazy mind and a willingness to help when she’s needed. I’m the girl who’s awkward at new situations, anxious to please anyone she comes across and scared nobody will like her. Self-conscious should be my middle name, I blush at compliments before brushing them off and I don’t notice when guys notice.

Call me damaged, I don’t care. Call me whatever you want. Just say –

“Hello,” he said.

I look up, and it’s you.


Forever and Always

He stared down at me with kind and thoughtful eyes. They were eyes that could see right through me, and eyes that have seen their fair share of struggle and heartache. An infinite shade of green with flecks of gold, they spoke to me without using any words. Those eyes understood me in ways nobody else ever could. And while I was thrilled at the prospect of someone knowing me that intimately, I was scared out of my fucking mind.

He gently runs his hand across my forehead, pushing a stray piece of hair that had fallen across my face. He continued to watch me, his eyes brimming with unasked questions. Questions I knew that would be hard to say, but needed to be said. I am his mystery to be solved, his puzzle to finish. No matter what I said or did though, his patience was endless. As he continued to caress my face, I could see all judgements flying out the window. He saw me, the real me in the most rawest forms.

How did I, the ever so plain Jane that I was, get so damn lucky in life? How did he stop his crazy world and have time to look at me? Would he get bored? Would he find someone new? I couldn’t help but feel like this was going to end just as quick as it began.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked me, the questions finally starting to surface.

“What makes you think I’m thinking about anything,” I said back, a little too quickly. He was making me nervous in ways I wasn’t used to. It was as if he could see into my mind and knew that I was full of doubt.

“Well, you do this thing where your eyebrows furrow together when you’re thinking too hard about something. I know when you’re over-analyzing every little thing and I know when you’re thinking way too much.”

“Oh really,” I shot back, this time purposely furrowing my brow in his direction, making my face look older and angry. Now that was furrowing my brow. He just laughed softly, pinching my cheek as if I were some cutesy child.

Instead of responding to me, he kept looking at me, silent. His passive demeanour would probably scare most people into thinking he didn’t care, but I knew differently. He cared too much, in my opinion. Instead of jumping in feet first, he tumbled head over heels into murky waters. If I was a regular girl and he was a regular guy, this relationship, or whatever you would call it, wouldn’t be normal. One or both of us would realize that it’s going way too fast and way too quickly that it would soon send us spiraling out of control.

He took a breath and paused as if he were about to say what was on his mind, but instead closed his mouth and looked away. Now it was my turn to wonder what exactly was on his mind. He was definitely a person of little words, but he was also one to speak his mind when necessary.

“What are you thinking about?” I asked cautiously. The look in his overwhelmingly beautiful eyes went from being full of curiosity to being full of doubt.

“Well,” he said in his soft and usually assuring voice, “I’m worried.”

“Hey, that’s usually my job,” I joked, half kidding.

But in that moment, it was then I realized why I was worrying so much. It wasn’t because I was so unsure of what was going on between us, it was because I didn’t want to lose what we had. I’ve always been cautious when it came to my heart, but right in this moment, I knew it was his.

“Where do you see this going?” He gestured between him and me, “This? Us?”

“What? Why are you asking such a question?”

“There’s no doubt there’s fire between us; earth shattering, World Series feelings between us. But…Sometimes I think…”

“Sometimes you think what? That we’re crazy? That everyone around is right and we’re falling too hard, too fast? Because if that’s the case, I do think we’re crazy.”

“So you don’t believe this will last,” he said, visibly deflating right in front of me. It was as if all the hope he just had for us being together just vanished into thin air. My heart was breaking, but I continued on.

“I didn’t say that.”

“But –”

“No. Let me finish,” I said, pressing my index finger gently on his lips – the ones I wish I could be devouring right this moment. I wanted to kiss away the frown planted on his perfect face and assure him everything was going to be alright, because everything was going to be alright.

“I think –,” I said, pausing once again to purposely burrow my brow gently into the side of his face. “That as crazy as it seems, I believe you and I are the real deal. We’re in the fifth game of the World Series, the bases are loaded and a grand slam hit is about to reach the edge of the stadium. You and I? We’re in this together. That’s what I think.”

The space between us disappeared as he inched his face close to mine. Nose to nose those beautiful green eyes were now back to being full of hope and ideas for the future – our future. His face broke out into a smile so big and so bright it was almost blinding in the best of ways.

“So you mean –”

“You’re stuck with me forever and always, baby.”

Words were lost as he closed the distance between our lips. Soft and warm, he slowly pushed me back, laying me down gently. Crawling over top of me, his hands began to roam and his lips began the exploration of my body. My soul was exposed and available for him to take completely.

“Forever and always,” he whispered.


I wish we could go back to a simpler time when people weren’t assholes, the world was a better place and it was easier to get a date. It sounds silly I know, but I feel like lately guys (and girls) have become so self-obsessed with finding the their perfect match (in looks first and then otherwise) that they don’t seem to notice someone who is perfect for them right in front of them.

I’m not going to lie, I am most likely one of them, but I definitely don’t do it intentionally. I have always been in love with the idea of love and romance and being swept off your feet. While it was nice in the beginning, now I feel like it’s kind of biting me in the ass. I’ve got pictures in my head about who I view as the perfect person for me, but in reality is he really real? Is this good-looking man with dark hair, blue eyes, a toned but not overly build body out there? He’s also got to be funny, kind, romantic, and actually enjoys doing and trying new things. OH, and he’s got to like a few things I do, but just to keep it interesting he’s gotta be his own person too.

Living in a dream right?

I know I’m not the most outgoing person when you first get to know me, and I suck when it comes to putting myself into new situations and meeting new people. The idea of uncomfortable situations brings out my anxiety and heightens my awareness to how imperfect my imperfections are. I start to think about what I believe other people will notice about me and then my brain goes into overdrive. And with all these people out there looking for their “perfect” someone in body and mind, it brings me to the realization that I’m one of those girls who gets overlooked due to my size and the fact that I’m almost always unsure of myself – great selling point right?

Forget the fact that I’m pretty funny (or at least I think I am anyways), I’m a great friend to those who know me and to anyone I meet, I would go out of my way to help if someone asked and I know how to bake the best cookies and treats.  I’m a reader, a daydreamer, a movie buff and my favourite music can pretty much cure most of my bad moods. I’m not that close with my family but my mom is one of my best friends, and my best friend is like my sister.

Yeah, I’ve gone through some shit and life let me down a few times, but I also have a lot of fun. It’s only taken 30 years but I’m slowly starting to see that I can only be me. I may fail at a lot of stuff, but I get back up, dust off the dirt and try again.

If you are reading this and you still can’t see the real me, don’t even bother to message me. And if you do message me and I don’t respond, don’t take it to heart. The online world is a cruel place and I’m just trying to stay afloat. It’s never anything personal – unless you message me with something less than pleasant – I just don’t see myself fitting into your world. I’m one who is looking for prince charming but I’m also one who doesn’t want to lead someone on if I’m nowhere near interested. I’m one of the rare people who actually reads the profiles, so maybe say something interesting – girls actually care.


“It’s a strange thing in life. When you’re chasing your dreams and it’s not what it seems and your heart’s on the line.”

Once a Potterhead, Always a Potterhead


With the recent release of Pokemon Go, old and new fans alike are resurfacing all over the world, ready to venture outside to search for their beloved monsters. Everywhere I look on social media and news outlets, there’s not only one but many people who are becoming increasingly obsessed with this fictional game – and for a good reason. While it did nothing for me when I was a kid, and it does nothing for me now, I can definitely understand the nostalgia that comes along with something that reminds you of something you grew up with.

I may not have been a Pokemon fan growing up, but I was definitely classified as a nerd in a fandom of my very own. Right smack dab in the middle of my childhood, a book series came out that changed my life forever. I was already known as a quiet-ish, country music loving book nerd, but this series took it to an entirely different level. Once my grade seven teacher introduced me to Harry Potter, my world was taken over by a magical land where good always defeated evil and an amazing bond between readers and their characters were forever formed. Harry Potter to me is what Star Trek is to Trekkies. It became something I latched onto in order to create some amazing memories. Even to this day I recall talking about the stories with my grandmother (who loved it just as equally as I did), going to midnight book releases and being able to interact with fellow potterphiles.

Potterphile (n): One obsessed with the all consuming demon of the modern world Harry Potter – Urban Dictionary

Fast-forward twenty years (YES, it’s been THAT long) and the magical world of Harry Potter is still thriving. My generation and beyond are still enthralled with everything Harry Potter and I highly doubt it’ll die down any time soon. I mean, they have a Studio Tour in London, The Wonderful Wizarding World of Harry Potter in both Florida and now California, as well as a new movie (Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them) and now a play (and 8th book-ish)! The wonderful world I was able to immerse myself in as a pre-teen is still something I immerse myself in today. While finding Harry Potter fans my age seems few and far between, I still manage to find those who love it just as much as I do still at this stage of their lives.

It’s a great comfort knowing that I am not alone. While we may ultimately be strangers, I feel a sense of calm when I find somebody to share my love with. No matter our ages, we all find a common ground with the characters we have become accustomed to love unconditionally. The original fan base may be growing older, but it’s our responsibility to keep the love of this wonderful series alive and thriving.

I can’t tell you how many times I felt the need to escape. Books were my refuge when I was feeling along, sad or frustrated with life. And while 20 years has gone by, it’s still something I do to this very day. As I started re-reading (for the umpteenth time) HP, I was able to go back to when I was young and excited to read but also appreciate the complex writing and insane amount of detail that J.K. Rowling actually put into her books. I am amazed at the clever wits and meaningful quotes that everyone can really benefit from reading.

Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light – Albus Dumbledore

I can safely say that my obsession isn’t as hardcore as some, but let’s be real here, who actually cares? Our tiny world has been ravaged as of late with bombings, terrorist attacks, the unnecessary killings of innocent lives among other things. How is someone else’s passion and love for something (albeit fictional) harming you? With all the hate and discrimination in the world, what’s so wrong with people of all ages, races and nationalities bonding over something they all love? There isn’t.

So before all you people go judging the revival of Pokemon, or those long term Trekkies, or fellow Potterheads such as myself, think back to what you used to love growing up. Whether it be Harry Potter, Star Wars, Star Trek, Marvel, or whatever you either secretly, or not-so-secretly love, we’re all guilty. Harry Potter will always have my heart and even though I’ve reached full adulthood (sadly), I will never ever forget the friends I have made – fictional and real. Harry Potter has my heart.

Finally, I say thank you to J.K. Rowling, for creating a world that I could fall in love with and am still in love with today. The last twenty of my thirty years on earth have been some of the best of my life, and it’s all thanks to you. I look forward to any and all future publications from your rare and beautiful mind.








I’m just a Canadian and a woman with an opinion, just like everyone else. Right now though, I want my opinion out there  in the open because I keep seeing things online that have upset me greatly as of late. Instead of becoming a united front in the face of a disaster, all I’ve seen is bickering, complaining and pointing fingers as to why things were done one way instead of another.

Tragedy’s rarely happen in Canada, and as a Canadian I am truly grateful. Why? Because of all the horrible disasters that have gone on in the world as of late, whether it be massive earthquakes, devastating tornadoes, or flooding, it’s been everywhere but our home sweet home. I know I should knock on wood, but we’re pretty lucky to be where we are as a nation. So when something like this happens, it’s something we all feel. Or so I thought anyways.

That being said, a great tragedy has happened to us as a nation we watched an entire city get taken over by a ravaging wildfire and thousands upon thousands of residents having to flee their homes, their possessions and their lives to reach safety. My heart hurts for all those who lost everything, or those who don’t know what they’re going back home to yet. Being a victim of a fire, while obviously not as widespread and as large as Fort Mac, I know the feeling of being upended, not being able to go home and not knowing what the damages really are. It’s tough, it’s scary and it’s absolutely exhausting. I may be a lonely girl from Ontario, but please know I am thinking about each and every single one of you – residents, rescuers and all the volunteers. You guys are the real heroes and I wish you all the strength in the world to get back on your feet because I KNOW it’ll be tough, but you’ll definitely pull through.

What’s upsetting me though, is the attitude and hate I’ve been seeing and hearing from a lot of people online. Of course there are people who have donated food, money, possessions and their homes to those who were displaced but there are also people out their criticizing the moves of our politicians and what they “chose” to do or not to do.  Instead of coming together to support our neighbours in Alberta, we’re too busy whining and complaining about how PM Trudeau chose to go about the tragedy.

Trudeau is a leader of an entire country so it’s 100 per cent understandable that he didn’t just drop everything and go to Fort Mac , Alberta. It’s 100 per cent understandable that the leader of Canada wasn’t in an unstable, unpredictable and unsafe environment that has yet to be remotely contained. People are saying he doesn’t care and that he’s privileged because he grew up differently than all Canadians, but let’s be real here, how many other “privileged” people are dropping everything and heading to the prairies? He has a country to run, he has decisions to make and he has a team he needs to handle.

Well what about denying foreign help, you ask? Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m fairly sure Canada is well-equipped with their very own task force to handle such disaster. I get more help is better BUT, in all honesty who wants to delegate and keep track of Russian water bombers, Mexican firefighters and Canadian rescuers when we have the resources. This fire will burn for months, and why waste another country’s resources when there’s nothing they can do now but try and contain it, and keep it from growing. The one thing I wish I did hear about is foreign countries coming to aid when it comes to donating money to help. I know we’re extremely nice, as our reputation proceeds us, but I haven’t heard of a single dime from other countries helping us out in our time of need. We have donated to all major disasters for the longest time, so now where’s our support?

As for the money factor, the government already has a plan in place to donate to natural disasters. His pledge to match all Red Cross Canada donations is on top of the federal money already given, so people need to shut up about that. Stop saying too much was given to the Syrian refugees and saying it should have gone to Fort Mac. A) The plan to bring in the refugees was put in place by Harper, Trudeau just came through. Also, the money was already budgeted towards that plan. B) It’s not like they predicted there would be a wildfire in Alberta in 2016 in the middle of a dry spell. It’s nature, not science and you cannot, no matter WHAT you do, control the environment. Mother Nature is a force of her own and she does what she wants.

And to those who keep bringing on the hate, and literally posting all about it anywhere and everywhere they get, just shut up. We understand you’re not a fan of Trudeau, your Facebook posts have already told me that – constantly. Why instead can’t you focus on the good deeds popping up instead? Like the doorbell camera capturing the heroic efforts of firemen trying to save the home? Or of the post of Fort Mac residents posting pictures of what they grabbed in a hurry and have no need for? Or of West Jet allowing Fort Mac passengers and their pets on board to fly to safety? There is SO much good coming out of such a sad event and I feel like people are forgetting to focus on the people.

Let’s focus on the fact that no lives have been lost. Fire is a savage beast, wild and untamed. It’s a crazy miracle that nobody has been hurt or killed in such a massive and insane force of nature. I hope they get down to the bottom of how it started and I hope this fire is contained and put out as soon as humanly possible, but we’ll only be able to see in time what will happen.

I hope and pray the residents of Fort Mac will be able to soon start rebuilding their lives and getting back to some sort of normalcy – even though it may take awhile. If you live there and you’re reading this, I’m thankful you’re alive and while I know you’re probably going to have a tough couple of months or even years, just remember this: you survived. Possessions can be replaced but your life is precious and I hope you are able to see some hope through all the smoke.

Lastly, I’m sorry this is so long. Love it or hate it, I had to say it. I get overly passionate about stuff like this and it bothers me when the first thing that comes to people’s mind is blame our leader. I’d rather him take selfies with Canadians and earn back their trust than being a complete douche bag of a human and taking pictures with firemen in front of a raging forest fire for publicity. You pick, it’s your choice but stop hating and start being the nice, friendly and heartwarming Canadian I know you are.


Ireland’s Calling Me Home

It’s been a month (already), and I still can’t come up with anything other than “it wasn’t long enough” when someone asks me how my trip was. Because to me, it wasn’t just any trip, it was THE trip I’d been dreaming of. And while experiencing it in all it’s magical glory, it’s hard to explain the feelings I felt while being in a country that has continuously called my name for as long as I can remember.

The year 2016 is a milestone year for anybody born in 1986. And while I didn’t actually celebrate the day of my birth in a big way, I decided months before that I was going to plan a trip that I’d been dreaming of. Ireland is apart of my genealogy and apart of my heart. I can’t exactly explain it, but I felt as if the little island was calling me home. My heart was telling me I needed to visit the place I’d been in love with for the longest time. With my own intentions in mind, I decided that I was doing something for me, regardless of how much I was going to spend – and I did.

The instant we landed I knew it was the right choice. It was a grey and rather chilly day but it didn’t bother me in the least. My heart was exploding with happiness knowing that I was finally in the one place I knew I’d feel at home. Sure our days were full of bus tours, attractions and long drives but every moment was magical. This country (like many European countries) is full of rich history and enchanting stories. It was easy to be captivated by the beauty of the land and the magic of the people.

Dublin (Dubh-Linn), while being the biggest city (by far) in Ireland, didn’t have the big city feel. While dominated by tourism, it didn’t give off the vibe of being your typical tourist destination. Old buildings mixed in with the new, it’s almost as if two different centuries collided with ease. Instead of tearing down relics, they cherish them. They incorporated two very different eras and created something so unique that can only be described as beautiful. No matter how often I looked, I couldn’t get over the beauty the city and the rest of the country held in the simple fact they loved their history.

Climbing the steps of Blarney Castle to kiss the infamous stone, delving into the history of the Muckross House, and catching some of the most breathtaking views in the entire world, were only a few of the many adventures we came to experience during our one week journey through The Republic of Ireland. My eyes were never tired of wandering and my ears never tired of listening, always trying to take in as much as I possibly could. Like that of a child, I was captivated by absolutely everything. I couldn’t help but enjoy every moment learning about a country that had an origin to my family name. I love Canada and I love being Canadian. We’re one of the most respected and loved countries, but it lacks the history the rest of the world has. Where our buildings are 149-ish years old, cities like Dublin has buildings still in use (more specifically Dublin Castle) that have been around for over 800 years. The difference is astounding.

I can’t say enough about the sites and sounds of the country as a whole but what I enjoyed the most were the people. No matter where we went we were welcome with open arms and open hearts. Whether it be a trait from a country who thrives on tourism or it be their natural charm, their genuine smiles and willingness to start a conversation was the first thing I noticed. No matter where you went people were willing to chat you up, tell you a story or ask you where you’re from. A charming horse ride through Killarney National Park had me charmed to pieces simply because our driver (Cal) took the time to give us a little more detail into their rich history, kept us entertained with stories and witty jokes, and easily made me blush speaking in the Gaelic language. That being said, it was so easy to just sit back and get caught up in listening to what they had to say. The beautiful lilt to their voice had me weak in the knees.

If I could drop everything and move wherever you wanted in the world, I would not hesitate to call Ireland my home. I realize people say it’s different being a tourist and not a regular everyday citizen, but I can only tell you what my heart keeps shouting from the rooftops. It’s been a month since I came back from this trip and I still long for it every moment. I still wish I could smell the fresh country air, enjoy an Irish coffee at a bar older than North America, and listen to the beautiful lilt of the Irish folk. Even now, just thinking about where I’ve been makes me long for everything I had just a short month ago. I know I sound crazy, and it may seem absurd but I’m sure there are a few of you who wouldn’t hesitate to say the same.

That being said, I can’t finish this post without mentioning the amazing company that allowed us to view as much of The Republic of Ireland as possible. Trafalgar Tours has a history for creating memorable adventures and this was no exception. From our wonderful local tour guide Valarie and our bus driver Jimmy, to the unexpected pit stops, the optional experiences and the “Be Our Guest” dining, everything was top notch from start to finish. They know how to take care of their guests and make them feel like they belong. If you are trying to decide on a tour company, I can tell you personally, you will not be disappointed.

Until the End

Hold me tight,

like it’s the end of all time.

Whisper to me sweet nothings,

and tell me “you’re mine”.


Grab hold of my heart,

like you take hold of my hand,

Love me unconditionally,

while they all stand watching.


Love me in my dreams,

just as much as in real life.

Show me the world,

in a way only you and I can describe.


Never question my loyalty,

my love or my heart.

I’ll be the wind at your back,

and you’ll be my guiding star.



Trust me with your life,

and I’ll trust you with mine.

For you and I are forever,

At least until the end of time.



Dear Canada

photo courtesy of J. Trudeau's Facebook page.
photo courtesy of J. Trudeau’s Facebook page.


Dear Canada (and Prime Minister Trudeau),

I’ve stayed rather elusive about this, but only because I don’t want to start any fights. The only reason I’m being upfront now is because I believe that it needs to be said. This past Monday. Canada voted in what is to be known as a historical election. Not only was voter turnout up 68% from 2011’s election and had it’s strongest young voter turnout, we came together as a country and made a decision to vote for change. Prime Minister Trudeau, the youngest leader to be elected in the history of Canada, has now become the face to represent all Canadians.

I’ll be the first to admit, I’ve always been a supporter of the NDP from the time I was first introduced into Canadian politics. The conservative government didn’t speak anything to my generation, but I know it’s always wishful thinking to have an NDP goverment. I, just like everyone else though wanted a change. Stephen Harper, who was representing each and every single person on an international front was making us look bad. Sure he’s an “economist” who has done a great number of things for this country, but he’s also done a great number of things that make us look bad as a nation. We’re all about equality, diversity and helping those less fortunate. Our stance on violence, on women’s rights and being a welcome beacon to those who need help, are what make us so likable as Canadians. In the past year or so, that’s been tainted. The once shiny glow of Canadian pride was slowly being diminished by scandal after scandal within parliament hill, unreasonable comments about ethnic wear, and an overall coldness we didn’t once have.

I’m not saying Justin Trudeau will be the saviour to all our problems, because unless you can tell the future, nobody knows what will happen. Everyone says “all politicians lie”, but they also do a lot of good. I’ve been seeing a lot of praise about Mr. Trudeau, but I’ve been seeing a lot more skepticism and harsh judgement before he’s even been sworn in. His platform wasn’t just about legalizing Mary Jane, or creating a safe place to do drugs (which BC has been the forefront of, if I’m correct, for awhile now).  Justin is young, he understands that the baby boomers are soon to be retiring, and the Millennial age group will soon be the dominant age in our Country. He understands that as a nation we are stuck in more ways than one. He gets that something needs to be changed.

The one thing I admire most about Mr. Trudeau is his willingness to listen. He’s not all about the politics, but instead he’s about the people who live and run this country. The moment I saw the video of him thanking people in a Montreal Subway Station the day after he was elected, was the moment I knew things would be different. He may be a politician, but he genuinely cares about us. Think about it – when was the last time you saw Harper on the streets just being among his fellow people? And campaigning and strategic appearances do not count. They don’t. And if you think they do, you’re wrong.

He may bring our country into more debt, he may not. He may give more focus on our environmental issues, or promise to help ease our taxes, he may not. All I ask, is to go in to his leadership with an open mind. Stop hating on someone we’ve yet to truly get to know, and wondering what possibilities he’ll come up with.  We used to be a country full of optimism, now we’ve become so used to being cynical that we’ve forgotten what it used to be like.

Call me an optimist, but I feel like with the bad Mr. Trudeau may bring, he’ll also bring forward the best side of Canada. He’s 100 per cent for everyday Canadians, and in the end, I think it’s his effort and stamina that will win us over. And remember, it’s not 1 vs. 32 million. He has various outlets he has to go through before anything ever gets approved. He’s got an entire team behind him to help him guide the way and make the best decisions for all of us. So while I’m usually on the side of the NDP, I’m also behind our new Prime Minister – until he proves otherwise.

We’re all human, we all make mistakes. We all deserve a chance to prove our greatness, including Mr. Trudeau. So before you decide to bring him down, give him a chance to shine. I wish you all the luck Mr. Trudeau, and I hope you don’t disappoint me, or every other Canadian. I can only speak for myself, but I want you to succeed. I want you to make a difference and I want you to make Canada what it once was. Being old fashioned isn’t a bad thing, just as long as you’re willing to step forward into the future.

Prove them wrong, stay humble, work hard and you will come out on the other side.

Cowboy in the Big Ol’ City

borrowed from http://nooksandcranberries.com

*music plays softly in the background*

“Hey,” he said. I was sitting there alone, feeling defeated and a little pissed off. I’d been stood up again for the second time in a matter of three days, by two different guys. I was beginning to second guess this whole dating thing, being single was easier.

“Hey,” I said, squinting up at him. This mystery of a stranger was shrouded in shadows,  all the light somehow behind him. The only thing I could truly define was the sexiness of his deep voice. The low timbre and slow southern drawl had me shivering to the core. With just one word he had me in the palm of his hand.

“What’s a beautiful girl like you sitting all by yourself on a Saturday night?”

“I’d tell you but I was taught not to talk to strangers,” I said, smiling slightly. Even though I was a full grown adult, it was still the truth.

Suddenly he stepped into the light. His features suddenly sharpened as he became visible to me. Dressed casually in a v-neck tee, plaid shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots, the man was definitely out of his element in this uptown bar. The closest thing to the country he could get would be the horses trotting gracefully in Central Park. He had a head full of dark brown hair, disheveled from the windy day. The hair framed a chiseled face and sea green eyes. He was built, but from working on the farm, not working out in the gym; his muscles rippling nicely through the sleeves of his shirt. Made me wonder what was hiding beneath the rest.

I unknowingly started to nibble on the side of my lips.

“Completely Understandable. My name is Owen, Owen Jacobs. Now we’re not strangers.”

I was in awe. His straightforward way of talking was seriously getting to me. No guy has ever been this straight up with me. I was used to  words of persuasion, insisting it was the right thing to do by following him home. “Well Owen, I’ve just been stood up – again.”

“Mind if I sit down? Buy you a drink?” He asked, looking at the empty seat beside me. The fact that he asked and waited for my permission was just sexy. In this day and age, it was rare you found a pure gentleman.

“Sure, have a seat cowboy. What brings you to the big apple?”

We ended up talking for hours. We talked about anything and everything from world news and politics to books and movies. He was a world class fellow who kept my mind off all the troubles that had been plaguing my mind. His kind eyes didn’t look at me, they looked inside. He seemed genuinely interested in every word that came out of my mouth; even if it came out jumbled and misconstrued. Instead of criticizing, he continued the conversation on as if nothing even happened. In a matter of a few hours we knew each other’s hopes and dreams; failures and fears. In just a few hours I felt like I knew more about him than I knew about most of my “close” friends.

But then it had to end.

“Last call!” the bartender shouted. It was two am already?

I looked into Owen’s eyes, getting lost in the sincerity behind them. I didn’t want this magical moment to end.

“Listen, I’d love to see you again,” he said leaning towards me, whispering softly against my ear. I thought he was going to kiss me – and he knew it. “I was going to save the kiss for our official date.”

“See, you should have just taken my number and left it as is,” I replied shaking my head. I think I was doing it more to calm my nerves than to scold him.

“Why’s that?”

“Because I’m the type to overthink, and when I overthink I get nervous, and when I get nervous I start to think of worst case scenarios – ” I was suddenly interrupted when his lips crashed into mine. Quick at first, he slowed down, taking me all in. His lips were soft, sweet and very experienced. Gently caressing my face with his hands, his mouth explored my lips, before heading down to the crevice of my neck. The gentleness and patience he used was noticed as he continued his adventure. While I hesitated at first, surprised at the sudden invasion of senses all over my body, I soon dove in and started my own adventure. My arms left my side, hugging his wonderfully muscled torso. Sliding them from his steel-cut abs, I ran my hands lightly up and then down his back, finally landing on his very fine-tuned ass. Hesitating again, I decided to live a little and pulled him closer while squeezing his beautiful butt at the same time.

Breaking away, I managed to squeak out, “I thought you said you were going to wait?”

“I wanted to shut you up, you were thinking out loud,” he responded just as breathless. He grabbed my lips with his teeth and kissed me again, this time with more intensity. If I moved in any closer I’d be sitting on his lap. Instead I ran my fingers back up his spine and into his heavenly locks of hair. Grabbing it, I pulled him into me, kissing with just as much intensity. By this time we were both flushed and worked up and not having realized the lights had come on and everyone had left. Shit.

As much as I didn’t want to, I broke away once again.

“Oh crap, I think we’re the last ones here,” I said, giggling like a schoolgirl. “The staff must be super annoyed.”

“Nah, I think they’re okay,” he said nibbling on my earlobe. I looked around, realizing that there were in fact no staff to speak of. Interesting.


“I own the bar darling,” he said, chuckling at the dumbfounded look on my face. I’ve been to this bar countless times since I moved to New York last year and had never seen him before. “I’ve noticed you more often than not come in here by yourself and leave by yourself. It baffled me because you are one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen, and after talking to you one of the kindest.”

“Wow. YOU own this bar? Really?”

“What, can’t a cowboy make it in this big ol’ city?”

“That’s definitely not what I meant,” I stumbled, blushing. I just made myself look like a jackass.

Laughing again, he kissed my cheek. “I know what you meant sweetheart. The reason I came over tonight of all nights is because I noticed you were looking as lonely as I felt. I figured to lonely hearts could use a shoulder to lean on. Looks like we both got more than we bargained for.”

I found myself biting my lip again. Without even knowing it, he just won my heart. I grabbed his face and passion took over. To hell with the fact we’ve only known each other for a mere few hours on a windy night in October. He and I connected more in that short time frame than most do in a couple of years.

Through desperate kisses, he whispered, “Let’s take this up to my loft.”



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