The awesome life of Tasha...

Here I am, sitting at my desk in the ol' workplace, for my last Tuesday here. After Friday, it's all done. I am no longer a business owner. Not only that, I have no workplace whatsoever. WHAT?! On the upside of a limited income (soon to be zilch-o income) is I can now say I am in recovery. My name is Tasha and I am a recovering Shopaholic. It's been a path of discovery and self-healing. I have really found myself and the deeper meaning of my need to be a consumer. Do I need 10 different purses? Do I need shoes in every colour? Do I need 3 drawers full of make-up? Who the hell am I kidding?! Of course I do! YES! I need all of these things! I need to shop. Its in my blood. Its who I am. I shop, therefore I am. Money does not buy happiness. Bullsh*t. Money does indeed buy me the things I need to be happy. My life needs Things. Discovery and self-healing? The only discovery I need to make is whatever new stock Winners has just put out. The se...

I have so much on my mind lately I feel like I am drowning in my own thoughts. I am in a constant state of thinking... which in my case can only mean one thing. I am most likely losing that last little grasp I had on sanity. Now, don't get me wrong. I am not having a bottle of wine a night in honour of my own personal pity party (although, even at 11 am as I am writing this, that doesn't sound like a bad idea). I guess, technically, I could hold a soirèe celebrating my internal turmoil, but who the hell wants to open that can of worms?! I'll stick with my internalisation any day rather than turning into one of those Facebook status updater types who have the need to tell the masses when they've stubbed their toe, have a zit, or are purposely vague in their eternal sadness quotations, followed, of course, by the ever popular FML. Really? Is your life ending because you're having a bad hair day? FML should be reserved for things like; oh my god my...

Well, I guess that's it. Summer is done. There are some that like to remind us that technically summer will continue for a few more weeks, those are clearly the people without children or those willing to commit a serious fashion faux pas. Because, as all assumptions go, it's done, finito, kaput come Labour Day. The white pants go away, the children go to school, life resumes in a full non-white clothed -packed lunch kind of way for the next ten months. As summers go, mine was a pretty good one. There was a lot of time spent in the ol' workplace. Ugh right?! But thank goodness for Grandmothers! And luckily my child has three! Without them the summer would have been awfully dull for the kid. Yaya started the summer with a great little Wasaga Beach adventure for the three cousins. Her pocket book may have regretted the trip to Walmart and then the trip to Rounds Ranch where she had to endure hours of waiting while the kids did whatever Rounds Ranch has to offer. But the...

Well, for a self-proclaimed addict to stability and a creature who cowls in the face of change, I seem to be walking directly into change's line of fire and throwing stability out the window. Don't get me wrong, I want my good friend, stability, to snuggle in and sit with me for a while, while my dreaded foe, change, hits the road and keeps on walkin', but it doesn't seem to be working out that way for now. It all started a few years ago when my life got flipped turned upside down. It began with a tragic accident and snowballed from there, leaving both sides of my family sad and without our beloved patriarchs. But I have to say we all put on our big girl panties and did the best darn job we could without them. Things changed, they had to, and some change was good. Some things just got different, different in a way that was, well, different. Let's fast forward a bit, get over that teary little bit... After a lot of hemming and hawing I decided that I should tak...

Well, I survived. In fact, I would consider the trip again. It wasn't drinks on the beach but it wasn't torturous either. And much to my own surprise I can rough it! I knew my week would be a "dry" one so I made sure to get a few drinks into me the Friday before we left. Two Caesars and a beer later I had a great sleep at the Four Points by Sheridan in Mississauga. Which was a good thing as 5:15 am rolls around pretty quickly! By 11am EST the boys, Ethan (nephew) and Gus (son), and I were at our destined airport, Saskatoon. And let me tell you, the walk to the baggage claim is quick! Nothing like our workout of a maze at Lester Pearson. It was lickety split and we were out of there and off for a Saskatchewan breakfast with Grandma! When you fly to Vancouver, you smell the sea air when you step out the doors of the airport. When you fly to Saskatoon, you smell canola. (Both of which beat the pants off of the oppressing smog that greeted us in Toronto on our r...

The time is quickly approaching where I, along with my little cohorts, will board flight AC1121 at 7:55 am headed west. We will be arriving at our destination some 3 hours later. Saskatoon, Saskatchewan is our terminal of choice. Well, "choice" may not be the operative word here. We are here because, my mother, the little coherts' grandmother has used all her mite to will us this way. I have been spoiled by my mom with her frequent visits to Ontario, but as the only and biggest guilt trip she has ever laid on me, it is my turn to fly to her home and visit her in the great wilds of northern Saskatchewan, our journey's end. As I talked about in my earlier writing, Tasha and The Great Outdoors, this will be similar to a camping trip. My mom lives in a cabin in the midst of....  trees, lake, fish? Who knows what is found in the depths of the north? We shall see how I handle this all at the week's end. You never know, maybe I am cut out for a life of basics... ...

This post should come with a warning label. Perhaps it should only be available wrapped in a paper sleeve... yes, we are going to get dirty. And I do mean dirty in the allegorical sense. Oh my. If you are a Puritan, if you are holier than thou, if you are basically just uptight and self-righteous, just stop reading, this one-sided conversation is about to get spicy. Last week, my will was broke. I spotted 50 Shades of Grey sitting prominently on display for sale. And on sale! I had to know what everyone was talking about. I nonchalantly walked passed the shelving and scooped up my copy. I quickly turned the book around, trying to hide my smutty choice. Not that any female over the age of 18 wouldn't recognize that cover, front or back, in an instant. I, like everyone, had heard that this book was dirty, so called "mommy porn". I had no idea what "mommy porn" would be, but still thought that maybe I should try and hide my choice from general public view....