Let's get drunk, you can drive us to the harbour.

After another rough (and rushed) morning of us sleeping in, Paul rushing to get dressed and ready and out the door, I can finally breathe. After he left I made coffee, put in a load of laundry, and played with the pups for a bit. But only one thing has been on my mind all morning, and for the last few days.

I'm going to be 24 in less than five weeks. Sure, five weeks is a long ways away still, but... 24??! When did I grow up? How did I become this woman I have? The last four years have been a huge blur, and have flown by faster than I can even convey with words. It's still hard for me to believe, some days, that I'm off living on my own (which I have been doing for 3.5 years), let alone married and turning 24 soon. So wild.

I went from this (2004):

Can't believe how long my hair was - and how horrible I dressed...

To this (2005):

Shorter hair, two nostril piercings...

To this (2006):

Two nostril piercings, two labret piercings, short hair... (Oh Sidekick, I miss you SO much!)

Then this (2007):

Wow, lots of facial piercings and too much make-up?

To 2008:

That was Paul's birthday dinner, that year... 1.5 years ago!

And finally, 2009 (like you need a reminder of that):

Personally, I like the me of 2009 (and 2010) best. But I guess I'm biased...


My birthday weekend also marks three years that my dad has been gone. He passed away on March 29th, 2007 - three days before my 21st birthday.

I remember the day like it was yesterday - they flew me home the Saturday prior, because they knew he wasn't doing well. I didn't get to say goodbye - he was already on life support and not awake. I spent almost a whole week with him, with my mom and my family, in the ICU hospital room, before he passed. That was the worst day of my life. The days the followed were like a nightmare - people at the house, bringing gift baskets and food trays. My best friend and my sister went together and paid for Paul to fly to Thunder Bay to be with me for my birthday, and the funeral. I was soo happy (and surprised) about that. Sunday was my birthday. We all went out for dinner (there was like 20 people!) and then we went mini-putting. Monday was the funeral.

I'm sort of freaking out right now because I can't find any pictures on my computer of my dad. I have lots that would need to be scanned - I'll do that another day. I miss him so much. I doesn't matter than we were never really close, that he disagreed with alot of (most of) the things I did as teenager. He was always there for me, he always listened, or helped, or took me places or picked me up. I'm sad that he wasn't there on my wedding day - but I'm glad that he did get to meet Paul, two months before he passed away. I'm sad that my kids won't have him as a Grandpa, because he would have made a great one.

I stole this pictures from my Aunt's facebook. It's (left to right) my mom, my aunt, my dad and... me. In the hat. I think I was 14.



RIP Daddy. I will always miss and love you...

I so didn't realize this was going to be such a walk-down-memory-lane, tramatizingly (is that really a word?) emotional post. Oh well. What's done is done. Now I don't have to write about in a month from now, when my emotions will really be off the wall. My mom's coming to visit us on March 27th, so we will be together, at least.

That's it. Consider this my Flashback Friday post. Happy Friday everyone!