This is me. My Edited Life.

“My life needs editing” – Mort Sahl


I recently read a blog post about your online life verses your offline life. It got me thinking, everything I post, most bloggers post, is an edited version of their life.

I sit down. I write. I delete. I rewrite. I delete again. Write some more. And then somehow through it all I have this much edited version of my life.

When I started this little hobby of mine, I didn’t think anyone would read. It was a space for me to write, post pictures, document things. I found my “writing” voice. People started reading; I made so many online friends. This little hobby has grown into something so much more than I ever thought it would. People actually cared what I was saying – which was so crazy to me. But with this I cared about what I was putting into the blogosphere. This is my edited life.

I don’t show you the 100 pictures I make Jamie pose for so I can upload one decent one

I don’t show pictures where I look like I have 90 chins and a lazy eye.

I don’t tell you how before a ‘super awesome’ day, Jamie and I had a disagreement over something trivial which chances are I blew up and made a bigger deal about.

I don’t tell you how Jamie gets frustrated with me for “slamming doors” and I can angry because I don’t nor do I see what the issue is.

I didn’t tell you how before I got a job, I didn’t get dressed until 3:00 every day.

I don’t tell you how it can take me 7 tries to park my car, and how there has been a handful of times I have had strangers help me parallel park.

I don’t tell you how a spend most of my nights in bed early reading a book, and that 10 PM on a Friday is late for me.

I don’t tell you that I am not as nearly as exciting in real life than I am online.

I don’t tell you that I am really not that funny. One comment I constantly get is how funny I am – I really am not. Ask my mother.

I don’t tell you half of what really ever happens. I give the glorified or “funny” version of the truth. I do not use this space to spread negative thoughts, bitchy side, or imperfections. The edited version is the one which I want to look back on, laugh at, and remember why I started this blog in the first place. A place to remember all the good things, the laughs, the memories.

So this is me. This is Jules. This is my edited life.

Future Neighbours

“Don’t laugh when your neighbours oven is on fire.” – Lithuanian Proverb

Last weekend Jamie and I drove around looking at different neighbourhoods in town which could become our future home. We are HOPING to be able to actually purchase one in just over a year (AHHHH!!).

We like to look around and look at different areas and different homes to have an idea of what we like or don’t like. You know, mostly because I am so picky about everything. We figured it would save us a bunch of time in just over a year – ha!…


We came to one neighbourhood, and as soon as we pulled onto the street the neighbours (who were all on the street talking to each other) were waving – TO US. Jamie looked like he was in love, and I turned to him and I said “there is absolutely no way I will be anywhere near this street. Why are they waving? We don’t know them. STOP WAVING BACK!! … You need to get me off of this street I feel like I am in a Stepford Wife neighbourhood. I need out. NOW”.

That started us talking a little bit. You see, Jamie and I are really two different people. When they say opposites attract, they cannot be more right with some things.

Jamie said he would love to live in a neighbourhood where he comes home and talks to people (WTF?!?!). He said he would even be snow blowing neighbours’ driveways in the winter (which I can totally see him doing).

I am the complete opposite. If I don’t know you, I am not going to go out of my way to know you. I would love to pull into my garage, and put the garage down, then go into the house before anyone sees me. I am a social person, I do think I am a lot like Bree Van De Kamp, but when it comes to neighbours, I just want to be left alone. My home should be my break from the world, not another social place.

Jamie and I started laughing about this. He said all the neighbours are going to know him and not know me. They will talk amongst themselves about that “poor man, being stuck with her”. They only see me when I am coming or going, or when I am on the porch yelling at Jamie telling him that “gas isn’t cheap and if he continues to snow blow everyone’s driveway they best be expecting an invoice from me”.

I know this is making me sound horrible. Although it is an exaggeration of my personality (kind of…) it is mostly an idea of how opposite Jamie and I are. He would do anything for anybody, he will help anyone in need – stranger or not. I, on the other hand, will keep to myself, mind my own business and not get involved.

Needless to say, we are in for some excitement when this becomes more real.

And a note to future neighbours. I WILL be sending invoices.

What kind of neighbour are you?
Do you want to socialize when you get home?
Are you and your partner on different ‘helping’ levels?

Irrational Fears

“People are irrational” – Huge Mackay

It is no secret that I am not an night owl (although I do love owls). Late nights are not for me. Mind you, no matter how hard I try, no matter how late I go to sleep, I cannot sleep in, in the mornings. 8:00 on weekends is pretty rare for me. So I guess it balances out.

Moving on, Friday night I went into bed around 10 to read before inevitably falling asleep. Jamie was staying up with his roommates, and I believe one of them had a friend over. I put my book down and fell asleep. I woke up, and the apartment was silent. TV off, no one talking, silent. So I wander out to look for Jamie. Nowhere to be found. I see Smokey and say “were we abandoned” and Smokey is quite intelligent and quite a chatter bug so he responded his usual way with “meow” meaning “yes, we were abandoned”. I immediately go into panic mode because I mean, it is in those moments my mind goes “hey, let’s think about demons”. Jamie comes home and claims he didn’t want to wake me as he was just dropping the guys off at the bar.


This got me thinking… I have some pretty irrational fears.

The dark. I don’t like it. I sleep facing the door in case someone/thing appears I am not blindsided as I am killed. My body parts cannot be exposed to outside the blankets (because obviously no one/thing can remove them). I think this all comes back to scary Mischa Barton in the Sixth Sense crawling out from under the bed.

Parking garages. These HAVE to be the worst things ever. Seriously – dim lit, creepy as hell. I have seen Criminal Minds, I have seen CSI, I have seen movies. I know what can go down in a parking garage. If I HAVE to park in one, I will walk with my key in between my fingers, because you know, that will definitely deter someone from attacking me.

Stairwells. Similar to parking garages. I hate them. It is worse when they curl so you really can’t look up and know no one is creeping in there waiting to attack.

Shower curtains. Sometimes I will pull them open to make sure no one is there. Like I’ve said, I’ve seen Criminal Minds. This one confuses me the most. I mean, if I were to pull it across and see someone, I wouldn’t know what to do. I would just stand there like an idiot. Confused. I clearly need a plan of action.

Backseats of cars. I saw an Oprah show years ago. Someone popped up with a gun from the backseat. I will not unlock my door until I’ve looked in the back seat to know no one is hiding in there. This alone could save your life. Oprah said so. And if you are in that situation, Oprah said do NOT let them take you to point B. Point B is where you die.

Public washrooms in weird locations. Do you know what I hate? How the women’s washroom is also in the creepiest furthest corner of places. You have to pass the men’s washroom to get there. Should we not get priority spots? For example, we were at a restaurant a few weeks ago. The washrooms were downstairs, these are the directions I got “go down the stairs, go straight through the room, you will see the men’s washroom on your left, keep walking straight to the end of the hall, make a left and go to the end of that hallway, it will be on your right”. Seriously? Needless to say it was like a sprint to and from, plus up the stairs and then you sit back down at the table completely winded and try to act normal.

I think my irrational fears were always there, but looking back I think what made them worse was that I binge watched Criminal minds, then volunteered for almost a year on my local “Sexual Assault Crisis Intervention” line. Yeah, the intensive 15 weeks of training does not prepare you for that first phone call…


+ Do you have any irrational fears?
+ Seriously, didn’t crazy Mischa Barton leave you horrified years later?
+ Does Criminal Minds/CSI/Crime Shows leave you frightened?


Life Lately…

“Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans.” – John Lennon

Life has been so incredibly insane the past few weeks!! Wow. I feel like I have missed out on so much around here. I missed this little blog of mine.

I have been around, catching up on most of you and your doings, although I have been silent and not commenting, I am reading! Promise! As for LifeFullOfJules, it has definitely fallen into the background once again. It is just so easy to get caught up in the busyness and keep putting it off just “one more day”. That day never really came…

Wow, where have I been.. So much has changed, yet so much is still the same. Was sick, got a job, started a job, got obsessed with Scandal (OMG!!!!!!!), chopped my hair off , and that is the quickest summary I have.

Let me see… I had a job interview (and got the job).. Finally right? It only took like 9 months.. I am working for a company doing Social Media Marketing.. It still blows my mind. I originally went to school for marketing, but transferred my program after the first year. Then I started up this teeny tiny blog, which got me my job. It is just so unbelievable to me..

Before I started, I got sick which is where my absence began. Oh Lordy, it wasn’t fun. I woke up on a Saturday with a sore throat. It wasn’t too bad, but it was definitely there. The next thing I know, it was a full on, week long cough. It was so bad during the night, Jamie took a late night run to the drug store for night time cough medicine so we could both get some sleep.. Then stuff was breaking up, and needless to say, I sounded like I had emphysema for 30 years.

Took me a week but I got better! As I was recovering I got a really bad bite on my finger.. My ring finger. My finger swelled up REALLY bad and I couldn’t get my ring off. I didn’t want to get the ring cut off so I tried everything to try to get the swelling down, elevating, ice, dental floss.. Everything I tried made it worse. I called the jewelry store to see if they would cut it off and they wouldn’t, but since I have a warranty it would cover the cut! I was sold. I called the doctor to see if they could cut it and they would. I went there and was taken into a room and I kept saying “If it is a clean cut it is covered under warranty. Make sure it’s a clean cut”… well, crazy bitch turned around with not only the cutting tool but a giant ass needle. I sat there saying “WHAT THE HELL. I did NOT sign up for that.” I hate injections. Giving blood, no problem, injection no way. She said it is a shot of Benadryl and it might help the swelling so I can get the ring off myself. I stupidly complied. It made the swelling so bad you could see my finger pulsing. She ended up cutting it off anyway.. She said if I didn’t get the ring off, based on my finger nail beginning to turn purple I probably would have lost the finger by the next night..


Then I took a few days, sat on the couch and got addicted to Scandal. You know, I have heard people talk about it for a while now. Was never really interested. Saw it on Netflix, and again, wasn’t interested. Then I had about an hour one night, couldn’t find anything to watch, and just like that, 45 seconds in. Addicted. I am currently halfway through season 3, and absolutely loving it!!!

The biggest change that happened besides the job, was chopping my hair off. I have been talking about wanting to do it since June but never had the balls. Well, that and the fact Jamie’s mom wouldn’t do it. And the fact she is my stylist kind of causes an issue there. I was thinking about it a lot last week and decided I would text her and see if she would cut it – after all I was starting to look like a polygamous.. She was hesitant but she relented. I was trying to figure out how short I wanted it and then that led me to look into looking at hair donations. What intrigued me was that each organization donates to certain types of cancer. I ultimately decided on Pantene’s organization “Beautiful Lengths” which donate to breast cancer. Their minimum donation with 8 inches. I figure, yeah I can do that. Then the big day came. I ended up going shorter than I originally thought, and I am so glad I did. I absolutely LOVE my new hair. I cut off just a little bit shy of 11.5 inches. That is almost a foot of hair! My hair currently sits at my collarbone (instead of my waist) so it is still long enough that I am able to do anything I want. I am guessing now, I need to update my Meet Jules page, my twitter and Instagram and remove “long haired”…

IMG_0384IMG_0385IMG_0386 ——————————————————————–
I missed you guys!!!
+ What has been going on with you
+ have you ever donated hair
+ what is the longest you have had it?!

My Closet; The Time Machine

“Memory… is the diary that we all carry about with us.” - Oscar Wilde

I mentioned a few posts ago that my closet is like a time machine. It is jammed packed full of unnecessary junk which needs to be purged or organized according to my mom memories. Every so often, maybe every 7-12 months I will pull everything out and go through it and see what I have been hoarding keeping.

For the first time in a long time I pulled everything out. I originally was in search of something, which I just realized I never found or got distracted and forgot about it (I also cannot remember what I was searching for which is currently frustrating me….). In the midst of looking for said object I got a little caught up in some of the things I found.

The items in my closet are a glimpse into the person I used to be. It is stuffed full of mementos of hopes and dreams of the girl I was, the girl I hoped to become, and even the person who I have become.  Some items I kept because it was easier to throw in the closet and forget about it, than to walk 20 feet and find the garbage; it is those items which seem to mean the most. The items of memories you would have otherwise thrown away.


There were items which I feel like I haven’t seen in years. The items which either meant a great deal, or were accidental memories.

The yearbook from my grade 8 graduating class – I was co-editor. Our yearbook group spend hours after school for weeks trying to pull it off. Has it really been 8 years? Flipping through the pages it seems like a lifetime ago, yet in other ways it could have been yesterday. The girl I was that lifetime ago could not wait for high school and the amazing years that would be spent there.


I pull more things out and I find not only all 4 yearbooks from high school, but the graduating picture. A picture which I haven’t opened since receiving it graduation night 4 years ago. It has been so long that the rubber band holding it closed has left an indent.



The more I dig the more I find. The mirror which lived through high school with me. The same mirror which hung in my locker for all 4 years. A mirror I looked in multiple times a day, every day. I looked in it on every good and bad day. Before every class, lunch, morning, afternoon – wow I sound vein. It is such a small (and really cheap) thing which I literally watched myself grow in. This September will officially mark 4 years since finishing high school. I would have been out of high school as long as I was in it.


I find my first two stages of driving licenses. Things I couldn’t wait to obtain. Paperwork, actual license, the admit slips for class since I was late coming back after taking the tests. Homeroom 217 – religion. It will be 6 years in June that I got it. 6 years.



I keep digging. I find 2 cellphones. I laugh at first, an LG chocolate spin, and a blackberry storm (the original) and totally the coolest thing ever at the time. I kept them in my pocket every day. I find a charger, I plug them in and turn them on. I read text messages. Complaining about homework, math tests, who was grounded and who could hang on a Friday night, what movie everyone wanted to see, who had detention or who could come for lunch. Those were the biggest issues of those days.


I remember living through all of this wishing and dreaming about being older so it could all be over. I was never content. Working on our yearbook wishing we were in high school and driving. I got to high school, started driving, wishing I was 18 so I could do whatever I want and high school would be over. I turned 18, high school ended, did the college thing, couldn’t wait for that to end. College ended and life started. I am at the place I always wanted to be, and yet there are still things I can’t wait for – paying off school, buying a house, marriage..

Somehow, just going through my closet and getting a glimpse of the past causes me to slow down. To enjoy and to live in the present. To realize everything goes by way too fast.

Then just like that, I put everything back inside, and close the door on those little memories for another day.


Do you have a little time travel box/room/closet?
What do you miss most about the past?

My Life In Numbers

“Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes, Five hundred twenty-five thousand moments” – Seasons Of Love

Last week miss Carrie inspired this post with hers. Although, she actually added some pretty awesome ecards and I mean, I can’t compete with that.. So I am going to say this is my own spin! I think it is such a great idea. Our lives seem to be so consumed with numbers. Weight, blog followers, twitter followers, number of errands to do, countdowns, days, money, everything comes down to a number. It kind of irritates me, I don’t really like writing down numbers, I think my 5′s look too much like an “S” and my 4′s look like 9′s (maybe that is why I never did exceptional in math class. hmm). But for the fun of it, I am going to take a look at my life.. In numbers.

>> 22, the age I will be this year. It sounds so old to me. How could I be 22? I mean at least I will be able to sing with T.Swift “I don’t know about you… But I’m feeling 22″

>> 15, the age I was when I met Jamie. If only I knew then what a huge part of my life he would become only a short 3 years later.



>> 236, the number of days it has been since I last saw my bestie. I think that means a trip is in order.


>> 52, the average number the bestie and I talk on a daily basis.

>> 3, the number of pictures I usually post to instagram daily.

>> 91, the number of times I tell mr. Smokey Joe I love him in a day


>> 1, the number of Green Monsters I drink in a day

>> 2, the number of Green Monsters I had today

>> 141, the number of posts I have published (after this goes live) since starting this little blog of mine

>> 141, the total number of quotes I have started each blog post with

>> 2, the number of injuries I have obtained from knitting.

>> 1, the number of current knitting injuries I have to deal with (muscle strain in my shoulder)

>> 80, the age I am at heart.

>> 2, the number of tattoos I want. Or one? 2 things done at the same visit side by side.. Does that count as one or two?

>> 27, the length in inches that my hair is when straightened


>>45, the number of NASCAR driver I can name after almost 4 years of being with Jamie. I know, impressive.

>> 1, the number of movies I can recite the entire thing from start to finish.. Matilda.

>> 2, the number of cows I have claimed as my own (and named) on the way to Jamie’s parents house.

>> 5, my favourite number.

>> 86,400, “seconds in a day/ to turn it all around or throw it all away/ we gotta tell them that we love them / while we got the chance to say / gotta live like we’re dying”

Tell me your numbers!
What is the most significant number if your life?

Inappropriate Songs From My Childhood

“Grown ups are complicated creatures, full of quirks and secrets.” ― Roald Dahl

Does anyone else have a time machine in their closet? You open the door and stuff explodes all over you; memories from the past, the person you used to be. Full of old hopes and dreams and stuff documenting those years. That is my closet. I love it, my mother hates it. Sometimes I like to dig through the mess and get a glimpse of that person who kept all this stuff from years past.

Yikes, that sure got deep, especially since this post is incredibly light hearted. So moving on.. Recently I went through my closet, mostly on the hunt for something. Then I found a bunch of old mixed CDS. You know the coloured blanked discs in pretty colours like blue and pink and orange and could only fit 15-20 songs per disc? I started going through the discs to see the songs I had. Then it kind of it me. Dear Lord,  there were a few of songs which I used to jam to which I didn’t really understand the lyrics or meaning of what I was singing along to.

I was almost in shock by how inappropriate these songs are. These are the songs we used to sign and act out at school (catholic school to boot), and made up our own dances to the songs.


Boom boom boom boom  - Vegnaboys

Childhood meaning: This song was probably about a sleepover between two friends. They had a lot of fun and wanted the party to last forever.

Lyrics which mean something different: boom boom boom boom I want you in my room / spend the night together from now until forever / boom boom boom boom I want to double boom / let’s spend the night together, together in my room

Genie in a bottle – Christina Aguilera

Childhood meaning: She genuinely was pretending to be a genie. She probably really enjoyed the movie Aladdin. If you touch her bottle right she will grant you 3 wishes.

Lyrics which mean something different:  I’m a genie in a bottle, you gotta rub me the right now /…… you gotta make a big impression, I gotta like what you do / ….. I’m a genie in a bottle baby, come, come, come on and let me out

Confessions part 2 – Usher

Childhood meaning:  yeah.. I cannot even justify this one.

Lyrics which mean something different:  These are my confessions / just when I thought I said all I could say my chick on the side said she got one on the way

Get down – B44

Childhood meaning: I clearly had no idea what was even being said in the song

Lyrics which mean something different:  if you get down on me / I’ll get down on you / I will do anything / That you want me to / it’s a game of give and take / to make it through / so if you get down on me / I’ll get down on you tonight

Wasn’t me – Shaggy

Childhood meaning: He was caught making a mess and he didn’t want to get in trouble so he lied to hide it.

Lyrics which mean something different:  She saw the marks on my shoulder (It wasn’t me) / Heard the words that I told her (It wasn’t me) / Heard the scream get louder (it wasn’t me) / She stayed until it was over

Milkshake – Kelis

Childhood meaning: Literally she is signing about making milkshakes

Lyrics which mean something different:  I can see you’re into it / you want me to teach thee / techniques that freaks these boys / it can’t be bought

Candy Shop – 50 Cent

Childhood meaning : he wants to take her to an actual candy shop and probably buy her a tootsie pop

Lyrics which mean something differentI’ll take you to the candy shop / I’ll let you lick the lollipop / go ‘head girl don’t you stop / keep going ‘til you hit the spot (woah)