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Pretty much my mental capacity in general right now

2 Nov

A Facebook chat between friend JP and I:

Me: UHG. I just threw up EVERYWHERE.

JP: WHAT? Are you serious??

Me: Oh wait, my bad. I totally meant “sneezed”.

JP: Woman, those are two VERY different things.

I think it’s time to (finally) catch up on some sleep.

On an unrelated note: OHAIGUYZ


BlissDom Canada and the issue of being an anona-blogger

2 Sep

Now that September is officially upon us, essentially making the proximity of autumn all but impossible to ignore, I finally feel that is safe to start talking about autumn-y things without having to face the wrath of people who seem to take personal offence to the very idea that summer might actually be over. You know, the ones that like to yell things like, “IT’S STILL SUMMER! DON’T TALK ABOUT FALL YOU’LL JINX/KILL US ALL”.

In caps lock no less!

Of course, the only autumn-y thing I actually want to talk about right now is BlissDom Canada and I’ve actually been talking about it all summer anyway so I’m not really sure why I decided that September (and by proxy, near-autumn) was the appropriate time to start blogging about it but HEY, I never claimed to make sense.

Deal with it.


Anyway, BlissDom.

If you’re registered to attend then you’ve no doubt received the super exciting agenda that was just sent out. And if you’re registered to attend and also happen to be something like me (although hopefully not too much like me. I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone), then you got RIDICULOUSLY GIDDY before even opening the e-mail containing the super exciting agenda. Because between the changing of the seasons and the release of the agenda, there is one fact that simply cannot be denied – BlissDom Canada: IT IS COMING.

It’s also going to be WICKED AMAZING, so I guess there are two facts that simply cannot be denied.

Third fact? I’m going.

Now that summer is essentially over, it seems so much closer (which, heyo, it is) but also a lot more real. October felt so ridiculously far away a month ago and now I’m all OMG, I’ve got less than two months to prepare! Should I stay in the hotel or not? What should I wear? Should I have a strategy? Are the mommy-bloggers going to like me??.

But probably my biggest dilemma so far is thus – I, as the Jam that you all know and tolerate, am an anona-blogger. My identity is a secret and it’s a secret for specific reasons:

1) To protect the identities of the people in my life, especially those whose stories end up on this blog (positive or negative); and,
2) To be able to have an outlet through which to express myself without having to worry about how my thoughts/opinions/general life choices as expressed on this blog will impact my personal/professional life.

I’m fairly certain that this is the same deal for most anona-bloggers out there. For the most part, cavorting about the blogosphere (and Twittisphere!) by the name of Jam has been working out pretty well for me.

The only exception would be situations like the one I’m facing with BlissDom.

It’s similar to the time that Boyfriend and I went on vacation in Washington D.C. Being so painfully close to Virginia, I was incredibly tempted to send dear Megan (of Best of Fates fame) a message and see if she was up for an IRL meet ‘n greet.

Then I chickened out. I chickened out and looking back on it, I regret it (although there’s nothing to say that Megan wouldn’t have been incredibly weirded out and she might have even refused to ever speak with me again and that would have been both embarrassing and devastating all at the same time. Hell, she’s probably weirded out right now! I’m sorry, Megan! Please don’t give me the ol’ unfollow-block!)

I’ve often wondered how I would go about cultivating friendships I might make through this blog in the real world. Now that I’ve gotten to know some of you as well as I have, I’ve realized that these relationships are important to me and I’d like to be able to do things like meet with people and hang out and all that fun stuff that friends do. The idea of letting some people know who I am doesn’t seem quite as daunting as it once did.

But what makes BlissDom different from simply blurring the line with my blog and Twitter friends is that there will be the issue of having both identities in one place, trying to meet people and get up to general tomfoolery all without giving away who Jam is.

I feel kind of like a super hero, minus the super part.

My mild mannered alter-ego is going as the sassy young professional that she is. She is using this as an opportunity to learn and grow and network (and maybe also get up to some general tomfoolery. We ARE the same person after all). She’s not about to let everyone know that along with being an ambitious young woman that takes her career very seriously, she’s also an angsty 20sb, anonymously drabbling her way through a quarter-life crisis. AT THE SAME TIME.

Truth be told, Jam might be spending the whole conference locked in the hotel room closet without so much as the luxury of being able to order from room service.

I don’t know how big of a deal this will be (how many of you, dear readers, are actually going to BlissDom Canada anyway?), but it does raise a lot of questions about how anona-bloggers are supposed to go about making any real and lasting connections without sacrificing the things we choose to stay anonymous for. Is it even possible? I’d like to think that it is. Hell, I’m sure there are a lot of them that do it now! Hence me reaching out now.

So I want to hear from you, dear reader – Are you an anonymous blogger or do you at least keep a somewhat significant chunk of your personal identity a secret when you blog? If so, do you go to blogger conferences and events? How do you manage to marry your real life with your virtual one?

Do you think it’s possible?

Are you in the same boat as me?

Even if you’re not, share your thoughts! Let’s hash this thing out.

This bitch is back in business (miss me?)

28 Jul

I’ve been “out of the office” so to speak since last Friday and, let me tell you, it feels like a hell of a lot longer. Because so much has happened, I’ve decided to jump back into things by providing y’all with a little “The Past 5 Days in Review” post.

You’re thrilled; I can smell it from here.

1) Because I know you’re all dying to know what went down this past weekend when I went to visit my Romantically Challenged BFF, I will not keep you in suspense any longer: It wasn’t all that bad.

Sure, she abandoned me within an hour of walking through her door (after I drove four hours to see her, no less) to go have a heart-to-heart with her 21-year old ex of two days. And, yes, I did have to spend two and a half hours alone watching MTV by myself (Editor’s note: In life, I make a point of never watching MTV. This experience made me feel old and caused me undue stress as it gave me even more reason to fear for the future of humanity). But when another dear friend texted me for drinks and I called her to say “ENOUGH” she, believe it or not, totally obliged.

Yes, dear reader, she actually ENDED the conversation with her ex and CAME HOME so that she could actually SPEND TIME with me. I know this sounds like it should be a given but seriously, this was some major progress for her. AND THEN IT GOT BETTER because when she got back she APOLOGIZED for ditching me and said,

“I’ve been such a moron about all of this. Talking to him tonight made me realize just how not right for me he really it. I’m so sorry.”

And I was all, “Shit, have you been reading my blog?”

And she was like, “What blog?”

And I was all like, “NOTHING.”

Just kidding, no one’s allowed to know about this monstrosity. I to think I was actually THIS close to finally buying a wig this weekend but I wasn’t sure how to explain that one away to her. The last thing I need is for her to randomly stumble across this blog, complete with photos featuring the wig-that-could-have-been, and thinking to herself, “Something about this chick’s sloppy disguise seems awfully familiar…” (Because the detailed descriptions of her romantic tribulations couldn’t possibly give it away. HA HA OH GOD. If you’re reading this, BFF, you know that I love you).

But she did, in fact, drop the guy like a bad habit and we spent the rest of the weekend partying and having a drama-free time and it was awesome.


2) Romantically Challenged BFF may not have been reading my blog, but judging by a recent post by the Comics Curmudgeon himself, Mr. Josh Fruhlinger, has been.

Check out his genius review of a recent instalment of Mary Worth:

You might have to click to get the full impact of how truly amazing it is.

Is he right or IS HE RIGHT?

3) Speaking of previous posts and the interwebz proving points that I made in them: Remember the guy that incited the rage behind this post? Y’know, Mr. I’m-taking-an-indefinite-hiatus-from-Facebook-and-dramatically-announcing-it-to-my-totally-indifferent-friends?

Yeah, well that was Wednesday. He was back by Saturday.

Point = made.

4) When I said that I was going to pick up some postcards while I was away, clearly what I meant to say was that I was going to pick up just one. But that’s okay, because I made sure this one was EXTRA special:

It's a BEAVER, y'all!

First one to claim dibs on this rare beauty gets it.

And on that note, I know that I also said that I would be sending a bunch of cards out to you, my dear readers, on Monday. I haven’t unfortunately, and the reason for that brings us to my next point:

5) Middle Brother backed into my car.

I had maybe been home for three hours on Sunday night and just as I was crawling into bed I heard my mom shrieking at me from the bottom of the stairs. I had parked behind Middle Brother’s car, like I’ve done many times before, but he didn’t know I had come home. He works a night shift so it was already pitch black outside and, running a bit late as he was, he rushed out, jumped into his car and gunned it into reverse – right into the front of mine.

It was a pretty bad scene.

Needless to say, my mobility (and thus my ability to get to a post office) has been pretty limited this week. I think my car is going to pull through but you had better believe that this ordeal has caused all kinds of drama (ironically, not with Middle Brother in the slightest), most of which can be blamed for the fact that I’m only getting back to blogging now. On the plus side, my inability to go places has helped me to save a ridiculous amount of money that I would otherwise be wasting on junk I don’t need. And it’s only been 3 days. Good times.

I guess that’s it for now. As always, if you want to get in on this postcard business, it’s never too late to drop me a line at yesthisisjam [at] gmail [dot] com. Other than that, posts of more substance are coming soon.

P.S. Check out my wicked awesome BlissDom Canada blog badge in the side bar! How wicked is that? Oh, I’ll tell you – It’s MAPLETASTICS, bitches!

“He’s Just Not That Into You”: A case study

22 Jul

Ok guys, I really need some help here.

If you follow me on Twitter then you’ve no doubt caught a tweet or two about my Best Friend and how she had started dating someone 6 years her junior and how concerned I was about this.

To provide some background – Best Friend makes poor choices when it comes to men and dating. All the time. As in, she hasn’t had one relationship/fling that has gone well. And if it’s not the guy’s fault (which, granted, she’s dated some real douchebags) then it’s a matter of her exacerbating things with some truly unfortunate low self esteem issues/crazy clingy ex behaviour/general disillusionment.

She’s a great person and I love her and it hurts to see her go through this shit again and again and goodness knows that this past year in particular has been particularly unkind to her romantically. That having been said, we, her long-time friends, are beginning to grow weary of what is starting to feel like an exceptionally bad episode of The Hills on repeat. A couple of our friends have gotten to a point where they don’t even deal with her unless the absolutely have to because they’re so sick of it. I mean, you’d think after three or four times of getting burned the same way you’d learn a thing or two, right?

Except that she doesn’t.

As for me, I pretty much have a script on hand for every time she gets involved with a guy we know isn’t right for her. She’ll tell me about him (“He’s super sweet, totally different from the other guys!”) and then ask for my advice as to what she should do. I give her my honest opinion; she agrees and then does the exact opposite. Fast-forward (not too fast though, because it doesn’t take that long to get to this point) to the turbulence. Again, she asks for advice, I give and she ignores. Repeat until the two of them eventually hate each other’s guts and, after an extended period of grieving, she moves on to someone new. Meanwhile, by this point I’ve usually gotten fed up and said something a little too honest and get in trouble.

Every. Damn. Time.

I almost want to say, “Oh! You mean you didn’t actually want to make a decision that would have a positive impact on the outcome of this situation? Well shoot! Why didn’t you just SAY SO.”

So, yeah. Junior broke up with her after a month and three days of “dating”. He cited reasons such as: being too young (duh), not being ready to settle down (double duh), not ready for anything serious, wanting to party all the time, wanting to spend more time with his friends, etc. Honestly? The only hint of bullshit I picked up in all of his reasoning was when he mentioned something about his ex and how he treated her badly and still feels guilty about it blah, blah, blah. Because, really, it doesn’t matter if there’s any truth to it – In my opinion, if someone you’ve only known for about a month starts using an ex as an excuse (for anything), you should be concerned.

Other than that, I think he did them both a big favour.

She seemed to be taking it well. She was disappointed, which was to be expected, but she wasn’t pulling the irrational card. That is, until today when she said that she has decided that what they had was too good and that he had been led astray by his friends and that she was going to fight for his love. She’s going to talk to him again and try to work things out.

And then I slammed my face off my desk a few times because it was better then the prospect of going through this YET AGAIN.

I’m supposed to be going to visit her this weekend (she lives many a mile away) so I scaled back all of the things I wanted to say and basically settled for, “If it feels right then do it but don’t take it personally if he doesn’t change his mind and just LET IT GO”

This is going to be the worst weekend ever.

So I need some advice from you, dear reader. Anything – what should I say to her when I’m there? How should I be dealing with this, y’know, in life? Am I overreacting?

Because I want to be a good friend and I don’t want to be down on love and always be the bitchy one who is trashing her love stories but, seriously?

She might be desperate but at this point, so am I.

Trying-To-Be-A-Good-Friend-But-Failing Jam

Babies and (sort of) bad dinner guests

21 Jun

This weekend I went to a dinner party with a group of friends I used to work with when I lived in the city. Now that most of us have moved on to other opportunities, we make a point of getting together as often as our busy schedules allow. It was an awesome night of good food and wine and even better people and I’d be lying if I said that a night with friends wasn’t exactly what the doctor ordered.

One of the big causes for celebration that night was a pregnancy in the group (don’t worry – the mama-to-be wasn’t hitting the vino). Naturally, pregnancy and babies was the most popular topic of conversation that evening.

This is where I need to pause to tell you that pregnancy just might scare the shit out of me.

I mean, obviously, there’s the fear that is associated with the idea of getting pregnant before I’m ready (and by accident). But for me it’s a lot more than that.

I love kids but I’m not convinced that I’m ever going to have any of my own (for a LOT more reasons than I can’t begin to list here. It probably deserves a post of its own but I just wanted to establish right away that I have NOTHING against the chillun). It’s weird because before I got to university I was excited about the prospect of motherhood(although it wasn’t a role I was planning on taking on any time in the near future). Now things have gotten to the point where I finally had to sit my mother down and break the news to her that if she was expecting grandchildren (she is) she’d have to expect them from one of my brothers.

People usually tell me that my anxiety (because, yes, I would call it as such) is normal; all it means is that I’m just not ready yet. And who knows, maybe they’re right and one day some internal switch will get flicked and I’ll wake up all OMG IT’S BABY TIME but right now my baby switch remains firmly (possibly even rusted into) the off position. For now I leave that incredibly noble task up to women far better suited for the job than I.

But it’s not just the idea of having a kid and being a mother that puts the fear of god into me. Pregnancy, the act of growing and carrying a child to term, and then the act of delivering said baby, are both as terrifying to me as they are fascinating. The terror part however, is relatively new.

I think I can attribute much of the terror to my love of reading mommy blogs (Yeah, I KNOW). It has been on these blogs that I have learned about things associated with pregnancy and delivery that I simply DID NOT KNOW before. Some of these things are genuinely amazing, some are a tad unsettling but still good to know, and some of it? Some of it is down right traumatizing.

My mom thinks that all of the mommy blogs I’ve read have alone scared me away from having kids and that I should only take each experience with a grain of salt – after all, each pregnancy is different. While she can related to some of the things I have turned around and interrogated her on (“Oh yeah, cracked nipples. That happens.” OMGWHATNOW?), some of it she never once went through with me or my two brothers.

But as much as I attribute the fear to the stories I’ve read on these blogs, I don’t believe that they’ve “scared me off” (Okay, maybe a little but they are not wholly responsible, let’s just put it that way). People fear that which they do not know and thanks to a bunch of honest and witty women, the miracle of life suddenly looks very different than it used to.

These are the things that they don’t teach you in high school health and sex-ed classes (Torn nethers? OH GOD). These are the stories that your mother, aunts and grandmother do not tell you growing up (I knew what post-partum depression was, but I didn’t know what is WAS, if you know what I mean). These are the things I’m GLAD to know about now, to have time to reflect on and come to grips with, so that I can make an informed decision on whether or not this is really something I want.

I get that these things are fleeting and the pain is temporary in the grand scheme of things and that the blessing of a child makes up for all of it a million times over. But knowing what I do now, and recognizing the way it makes me feel has helped me to realize just how very not ready I really am.

If that makes me sound a little crazy (or at least more so than usual) then so be it – I am ok with that.

But like I said before, I also find the whole business fascinating. It’s like watching one of those programs on Discovery Channel where a lion takes down a zebra and you’re like “OMG WHY?” but at the same time you can’t turn away because you know that it’s natural and important and you’re LEARNING something about the way the world works.ý

Not that I’m equating having a baby with the eating habits of carnivorous animals or anything like that.

Ok, maybe not the best analogy but it’s HOW I FEEL.

Oh god, don’t hate me.



For all the fear (or perhaps because of it) I find myself more eager than ever to learn more about it. Not just the textbook stuff but the stories from women who have LIVED IT. And not the sugar-coated PG versions either – I want the truth. I want the emotion and reflection and second thoughts that go with all the joy of such a life and body altering experience.

Because I think it’s important. If this is something that I may do later on in life (something that is expected of me as a woman but something I may, as a woman, also chose not to do, because I can), I think I deserve to know.

That’s where this dinner party comes in.

My friend is a beautiful person in every way. We’re all stupid excited for her and her husband because not only have they wanted this for a long time but because we know that she’s going to be an amazing mom. She is also the type of person that doesn’t hold back and has a very honest answer for every question asked of her.

So I asked her,

“Are you scared?”

And she told me yes and yest not really at the same time and she’s staying positive. And then the flood gates were opened. I asked her about how her body was feeling and if she was worried about the way it was going to change. I asked her what it feels like when the baby moves and if she’s the type of parent who will vaccinate or not. I asked her how she was preparing herself for the pain and DOES SHE KNOW ABOUT TERROR X, Y AND Z?

The whole time our friends were shooting me dirty looks and kicking me under the table.

“What are you doing?” On of them hissed at me when our friend got up to grab the dessert, “Are you trying to scare her?”

Of course I wasn’t trying to scare her but I quickly started to feel like that dinner guest that doesn’t get invited back so I reeled it in a little. Still, she answered all of my questions as truthfully as I expected she would and I appreciated it.

I wound up having to stay the night because things wrapped up at midnight and I was the only one with three hours of driving to get home. After everyone had said goodbye, I apologized for asking so many questions that perhaps had come across as insensitive.

“Oh my god,” she laughed, waving me off. “Why? It’s only natural. Babies are a big deal. I just hope my answers helped!”

I appreciated that, too.

Heeeeeere’s TOMMY

7 Jun

The excitement that strikes me whenever I come home to find a parcel tag waiting for me is pretty much on par with how I felt as a kid on Christmas morning before my parents would release the dead-bolts on my cell and let me ravage the gifts beneath the tree (anyone else have a similar childhood experience)?

It’s a feeling of bat shit insanity.

Well, ok, maybe not EVERY time, but that was definitely how I felt on Friday because THIS TIME I knew exactly what that parcel tag was for.


They’re here.

Let me introduce you to my very own ‘red dress‘:

Gold glitters by TOMS.

I am SO excited to finally be wearing these. I really do feel like a million bucks. I’ve pretty much been dancing around like a fool since I put them on (and before I put them on for that matter. The nice lady at the post office may or may not have had her hand poised by the panic button the whole time I was signing for the parcel). It was so, SO worth it.

I want to say thanks to everyone who left such loving comments on my last post about the shoes. It’s one thing to get support from friends and family, but it’s something really special to be told that you’re “worth it” by complete strangers. That sense of solidarity with people who you probably will never know in real life but who totally get where you’re coming from? Magic. You guys didn’t have to show that kind of love to me but you did, and it’s something I’ll never forget.

Major love also goes out to The Bloggess herself, Jenny, for inspiring this whole movement of love with her Traveling Red Dress. Thanks for being the nudge I needed to start down a long-neglected path of self-love. You? You are wonderful.

Glitter on, baby.

Glitter on, everyone.

I do lazy SO well

25 May

Long weekend (in Canada) + my birthday = blogging be damned.

Here’s what I would have blogged about had I not opted to be lazy instead:

Va-va-voom, ladies

• Is it good or bad that I didn’t recognize these women as being “plus sized” when I first saw these photos? I like the article that I nabbed them from, but I think (no, I know) that my perceptions of body image are just so damn skewed. And maybe it’s shit like this that is to blame:

These ladies were touted by Glamour as representing “big” ladies everywhere. Maybe in the world of fashion, but in the real world? Fuck off. No wonder everyone hates themselves. I myself am not a big lass but I am still right on board with the overall opinions expressed in the comments. Eff.

• On a related note, my friend and I went bathing suit shopping this weekend. Every time we visited a store and failed it was like we were acting out a miserable tableau of the however-many steps associated with grief: We’d start of giggling and chatting through the walls of the dressing rooms then slowly get quieter until there was nothing left but devastated silence. We would meet in the halls after we were dressed, quiet and defeated. And by the time we were almost done there was no more giggling. No happiness WHATSOEVER. But we eventually emerged victorious (after THREE heartbreaking hours of self loathing). It sucks so hard that something so simple can make you feel so bad about yourself no matter how you look. I think Emily of Cupcakes and Cashmere does an excellent (and much more eloquent) job of expressing the nearly universal female sentiments of bathing suit shopping here.


• My birthday was, as to be expected, a full-on weekend affair. Three solid days to forget all about my quarter-life crisis (Editor’s note: Being as I’m not really sure how long I’m going to live and therefore can’t really pin-point what year said crisis should begin, I have dedicated the entirety of my 20s to it. Fun!) Of course, that having been said, there was a bit of angst when my boyfriend dropped the ball on what was supposed to be an epic long weekend away to some place cool. He managed to redeem himself in such a way that downgraded my “*insert your choice of expletives here*” epic disappointment to “you hapless sod” eye-rolling over dinner and sexy times (what?) BUT WE ARE STILL GOING TO SOME PLACE COOL, DAMMIT.

Also, two of my best lady friends came home from their respective big city lives and helped me celebrate with copious amounts of adult beverages by the pool and one hilariously misspelled cake.

• I feel like a royal tool for not realizing that one of my favouritested-not-real-bands, Gorillaz, released a new album back in March and I’m just realizing it NOW. Epic fanfail.

• Finally, I started to get myself on Twitter so I can assault the interwebz from multiple mediums but do you THINK I could find a suitable username? And what pisses me off the most is that “almostmaybe” was TOTALLY available when I first thought about signing up back when I launched the blog but I didn’t snag it and now some KID has gone and changed her pre-existing name and STOLEN IT (do you think I can convince her to change it again or would that just be bullying?).

Honestly, all the good shit is taken: almost_maybe (and I HATE underscrores so that’s saying something), jam, thisisjam, jamtastic, jamzilla – and half of these people barely use their accounts! RAGE.

Aggravated, I then just started trying out random expressions of my rage and even they were taken, again by people who “wtf don’t get it”

I laughed so hard. And then I died a little.

Eventually I just gave up and I settled on @yesthisisjam because I hate the idea of @_almostmaybe or even having to use the same lame-ass handle as what used to be my e-mail address, @almostmaybejam (GROAN).

So, HUZAAH! Let us be Twitter buddies! Also, you can now e-mail me at yesthisisjam @ gmail . com.