A little rain never hurt anyone - unless you're the Wicked Witch of the West.

"El Trompo" in Kensington Market.

CLICK: Another Unkept Secret



1. We've been friends since second grade. That's why she's the best.
2. "I'm going to take a bitchy picture. Don't smile!" "But it's hard not too!"

It was an epic night before the blood began to pour.

It happened Saturday May 2nd, 2009 at The Drake Hotel for Mr. J. Dean's twentieth birthday.

Half a bottle of Hypnotiq, three shots of Grey Goose Vodka, a bottle of Smirnoff Ice, a Polar Bear, three Irish Carbombs, and a pint of Creemore beer win you a trip over someone's foot, bruised legs, a shattered glass on the floor, a deep cut in your now bloody right hand, two bandages, a trip to the hospital from your bestfriend's boyfriend, three hours in the ER, five stitches, an angry father, and work in four hours.

I was more upset that I had to leave than the fact that I got a cut. Over the week, I became more upset that I had to miss a day of work because my hand was still in pain. [I use that word a lot, don't I? Pain.]

Want to see colored photos? Follow the link.

CLICK: Another Unkept Secret



1. Taken several hours after having gotten the stitches. You can still see the blood on my hand.
2. Taken Friday May 7th, 2009. No more blood, but still in the healing process.


No I wasn't drunk. I just had a very, VERY good buzz going on... until it was killed by that shard of glass.

All your sex and your diamonds.

I'm trying to clean this mess I call my room while trying to make sense of the mess I call my life.



CLICK: Another Unkept Secret



Clothes. Dirty Laundry. Books. Paper. MacBook. Jewellery. Chocolate. Vodka. Oil Burner. Shopping Bags. DS.
- Actually, more of an unkept room.