Keira-anne.com

Alas, my faithful readers, the time has come for your humble narrator to board a ferry and set sail for Vancouver Island. This time around, returning to the Comox Valley is more than overdue. The last few weeks for me have been both tumultuous and joyful, seeking and learning. I need to reconnect with my roots and my home. My bags are almost packed and I’m more than ready to go.

If anything, I’m just totally stoked to bust out the killer whale Keds. Sure they’re sitting out on the carpet in the picture, but in all fairness, I’d just double treated them with Scotch Guard. It’s simply a must when you own Keds. But never fear, they went right back into their original box in order to stay pristine for the trip over.

I’ve been taking extremely good care of myself over the last week or two. Epiphanies have been hitting me like raindrops in a storm, and I’m learning to really, really love myself. I am worthy of love and of respect, worthy of time and listening ears. I deserve the best in life. But you know what? If you’re reading this, you do too. No one deserves anything but the very best for their lives.

Speaking of hot, oiled, bikini-clad bodies, T.P. is back in L.A. and wrote about his various exploits, scanadlous adventures and super fun times in Canada on The LAist. Check out his post here.

Though I will be sunning myself on the shores of Hornby Island’s Tribune Bay on Thursday, August 2nd is the two-year anniversary of my employment at the law firm I’m currently with. Oddly enough, it’s no surprise to me that I’ve been there for as long. As much as there are some days that make me want to poke my eyes out with my letter opener, it’s a pretty great place to work, with a few great people that make it that much easier. In “celebration” of mon anniversaire, Jeanette brought me a twin bouquet of two sunflowers, one for each year I’ve been with the firm.

When my boss saw the flowers, he said “Sunflowers? What are those for?” I looked at him and said very pointedly that “each flower represents a year I’ve had to put up with you.” He laughed - partially because it’s funny and partially because he knows it’s true.

*All photos available on my Flickr.

At the stroke of midnight tonight, weeks and months of hard work preceded by immeasurable heartache and resilience, will finally come to fruition.

Matthew Good’s third solo studio effort, Hospital Music, will be released on July 31, 2007.

Photo courtesy of Dan Lilly on Flickr.

To say that I am tremendously proud of my dear friend would be a gross understatement. Watching the creation of Hospital Music has been not unlike watching an artist cover a fresh canvas. From every rough brush stroke and coarse demo to the most minute of details and flawless notes, this record is not one to be taken lightly.

Much heart and much soul has been poured into Hospital Music, and it’s very core comes from a deeply emotional and sometimes raw place. To those of you seeking a beautiful record with much depth, one that will indeed hang on to you from start to finish, please take the time to purchase Hospital Music in store or download it from iTunes (also available on the U.S. iTunes site).

Well done, Matty.

Every summer as I stand somewhere on the shores of English Bay and watch the dazzling lights of the Celebration of Light crash and swirl overhead, I roll my eyes and promise myself that “next year I will definitely not be attending.” What’s really the point? They’re simply not that spectacular - it’s just exploding light in the sky. Is it worth the crunched toes and bruised elbows? Not really.

Photo courtesy of JengTing on Flickr.

Last night I was invited to take in the sights from Lorne Mayencourt’s fabulous rooftop at the corner of Davie and Denman, so I suppose it was something worth seeing. I had decided that last night I’d take a break from livin’ la vida Lohan for the night since Blogstock festivities had resulted in two beer nights this past week already. However, after the lights faded, Craig begged me to go to Celebrities because he was being forced against his will to go to someone’s birthday. I agreed on the condition that he pay my cover and buy my drinks.

“I can do cover and a beer.”

“Deal.”

I stopped by my place to throw on a boob shirt and stilettos (which later, at 2:00 a.m., pierced the upholstery in the Denny’s booth when I was jonesin’ for some Rolling Stones to go with my pancakes) and headed to my old post-break-up stomping ground. It’s funny how much a place changes when you no longer go. I’m not a “going out” kinda girl, and I didn’t know a single soul there.

Strange to me that the weekend is already over. I woke up today with no plans whatsoever, but ended up eating at PHAT! in Yaletown with Tony. We wanted to take in The Simpsons at the Paramount Theatre, but stopped in at a ghetto arcade on Granville street en route. The place was packed with the standard fare: pinball, race cars and “shoot the corpse” types. I was completely stoked to find an old-school Tetris game, but the greatest game of all was tucked in the back corner by the booths you could sit in, plunk in some quarters and watch some quality girlie flicks. However, they didn’t afford much privacy - they were a lot like photobooths. Yikes.

Anyways, back to the best game of all time…

It was your standard poker game with only a few buttons. However, before being dealt a hand, the player gets to choose a particular man or woman. For every winning hand one’s dealt, the chosen man or woman removes an article of clothing in live action video. Needless to say, the majority of our quarter budget was used on this particular machine. We finally saw boobs after about four bucks.

Photo courtesy of Tony Pierce on Flickr.

Finally the time came to see The Simpsons movie. I never watched the show much, and had no pre-conceived notions about the film, so I really didn’t know what to expect. I can’t lie - it was fantastic! The whole thing was really smartly written and I was actually laughing, almost non-stop, from start to finish. Good times.

Photo courtesy of Tony Pierce on Flickr.

Oh and we had ice cream. Yummy.

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I also want to send out the biggest jumping high five to my dear friend Becky who took 24 hours to blog every 30 minutes to raise money for the Surrey Food Bank. Miss604 raked in close to $400 US for the cause.

*Originally posted as a contribution to Miss604’s Blogathon 2007 undertaking. Look for it in the 4:30 p.m. timeslot.

It’s an art; having your photo taken, that is. Many factors influence the outcome of a photo. The setting, the lighting, the pose, the colours, the photo subjects and any number of crucial camera settings. Every single person has both a “good side” and a “bad side” - even Lisa Turtle. For me, my left side is my good side. Miss 604’s is her right, so this works out exceptionally well when we take photos together. And believe me, that happens often.

Once one has learned their “good side” and how to capture it, the next hurdle to get over is the dreaded double chin. This frequent occurrence typically happens when candid photos are being snapped one after another and usually in group settings. Because of the candid factor, avoiding the double chin is next to impossible. However, like the “good side,” creating a self-awareness is the key to avoiding the majority of double chin moments. “Tilt your head, not your neck,” says Becky.

The double chin effect can manifest itself in full-body shots. In these instances, not only do you need to remain aware of the shape of your face, you’re also at a high risk for unnecessary muffin top or displaced weight. Not many walk around with perfect posture, and it’s simply too easy to just let it all hang out. Key No. 2: stand up straight! The best way to achieve this is in letting your stomach muscles, and not your spine, support the weight of your body.

All of this said, there is one crucial, evil, unrelenting ingredient that will always make or break a picture.

Alcohol.

Last night’s Blogstock 2007 pre-festivities at Steamworks were a prime example. About an hour before our group paid the bill and left, I asked our server how many pitchers of Lion’s Gate Lager we’d ordered so that we could make an informed decision in deciding whether or not to order another pitcher. She told me “I think it’s at two.” We all shrugged and said “sure, bring us another.” The bill came an hour later and we’d actually ordered a total of six pitchers split between five people (Duane stuck to hard liquor). When you mix six pitchers with three ladies, you get copious amounts of photos that, when shown the next day, only produce embarrassment, head shakes and an “oh god.”

Friends don’t let friends drink and snap.

Just a quick note before bedtime. In a little less than eight hours from now, Miss604 (a.k.a. Rebecca Bollwitt) will be challenging herself by posting a new blog entry every 30 minutes for 24 hours in an effort to raise money for the Surrey Food Bank. It’s a great cause and I know full well that it’s a huge endeavour for Becky. If you’re interested, head on over to her site and have a look at what she’s sharing and sponsor her cause if you feel so inclined.

*Photo courtesy of Miss 604 on Flickr.

© Getty Images

I’m a girl. I have shiny hair and strawberry-flavoured lips and soft, coconutty skin and I love to cuddle. Spooning is conceivably the proverbial cherry on the ice cream sundae of cuddling. That being said, when a man is rockin’ his belly keg-style, said belly fits seamlessly into the delicate smalls of our backs. It is that comfort that makes us feel safe and secure as women. It just feels awesome. There’s no better way to butter a girl up after some intense forking than with some good old-fashioned spooning.

It occured to me today that it was summertime, exactly ten years ago, that a trio of brothers from Tulsa, Oklahoma found musical success overnight. Before I go any further, let me say that I have always been a proud and admitted fan of Hanson, and that fact remains true today. Truth be told, it’s been their lyrical talent and instrumental skills that have always blown me away. U2’s Bono calls them “genuius.” At the age of 20 I saw them at a small venue when they came to Vancouver, and I can safely say that it was one of the best and certainly most fun “rock shows” I’ve ever been to - even to this day.

© Hanson.net

This past Tuesday saw the release of The Walk, the brothers’ fourth studio album. “It’s the first record in a decade that we made completely from scratch as an indie”, Taylor says. “We’ve stepped it up a notch creatively, writing songs that connect to really personal experiences and recording them live ‘from the floor’” (meaning that the trio played the instruments simultaneously in the studio).

Needless to say, once I found out that a new record had been released, I knew I needed to buy it. For me, their music has always brought me immense comfort and real joy. There’s a lot of hope in the words that are shared through their songs, and it’s always really spoken to my heart (yah, pass the cheese plate). However, I’ve had Middle of Nowhere (1997) and This Time Around (2000) playing on my iPod for the last two days, and they’ve most certainly greatly served to feed into the fantastic way I’ve been feeling lately (more of that in a sec).

Just as Leonardo diCaprio had been slapped with the “that guy from Titanic” stigma, so too were Hanson labelled as “those boys who sang MmmBop.” In the years since James Cameron’s epic swept through theatres, diCaprio has broken free of his branding, and I believe the same will soon be true of Hanson. No one can really question or doubt their musical abilities and talents, and I truly believe that this record will help them find their audience. It may not be the same screaming girls that loved them ten years ago, but I have no doubt that there are people out there who are willing to recognize what New York’s Village Voice calls “the best straight-up rock band in America.”

Do yourself a favour and open your ears long enough to give them a shot.

YouTube’s already on it - check out the first single from The Walk, “Go.”

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Life for me lately has been really, really fantastic. In Layman’s Terms, it feels as though it’s been years since I’ve felt this happy. I’m breathing! The stress and anxiety that comes with putting another’s emotional needs and well-being before my own isn’t something I’m experiencing and it feels so, so great. I’m finding new ways to achieve balance and a whole life. I’m spending time with new friends and meeting new people. I’m laughing! I’m drinking beer from cans and absolutely loving it. I love my body and my smile makes me happy. I can look in the mirror and like what I see.

© Duane Storey on Flickr

Life makes so much more sense when you take the time to put the puzzle pieces together and look at the big picture instead of trying to figure out all the tiny parts, figuring out why the hell they’re shaped the way they are and trying to decipher where the hell they’re supposed to fit.

Last night night I enjoyed some evening debauchery before, during and after the Celebration of Light. It was one big happy family of myself, Rebecca, John, Duane, Corinna, Adam, Tony and Robyn. I’m so entirely excited to spend more time with them all tomorrow night and, hopefully, Saturday night too for Canada’s turn to light up the skies over English Bay.

Stay tuned tomorrow - I’m fulfilling a promise to Tony. I vowed to write an entire post explaining my reasoning behind something that he doesn’t quite seem to believe when I share my stance on this particular subject. What it is, you’ll just have to wait and see. I promise it’ll be all kinds of awesomeness. Check back soon…

Recently I blogged about a new term that’s been coined in reference to people who suffer from such a deep fear of abandonment that the ramifications of the fear affects almost every aspect of their lives. This term is known as “abandoholism.” Those who suffer from it are known as “abandoholics.”

In the past few months, I have come to understand what this means to me and how I see it rear its ugly head in my own life. The beauty of it all is that through counselling and literature, I have come to a place where I see it as somewhat of a blessing. I am grateful that I’ve come to recognize the destructive patterns in my own life, and what they are rooted in.

© Getty Images

Another outlet through which I am finding understanding and healing is in being extremely open with my family and also my close friends about my current struggles. It isn’t always a pretty picture that I paint, but it’s real and it’s honest. The battle is day-to-day, and sometimes even hour-to-hour. But as of late, I have been happier than I have ever remembered feeling.

Through a blog tracker, I have been able to see where most of my readers are from, and how it is many of them find my site. What has surprised me is the volume of Google searches for the term “abandoholism” and how many of those searches have led people to keira-anne.com. I write this to those of you that have found yourself on my site as the result of these searches. There’s power in numbers and, unfortunately, there aren’t many support groups for people who suffer from abandolism. If you feel so inclined, I encourage you to e-mail me your stories - sometimes it helps to get them “off your chest,” so to speak. Sometimes sharing them with many others, such as if you’d like me to post your story, can bring in a lot of support you may not know is out there. Please feel free to get in touch.

You can e-mail me at: keiraannemellis at gmail dot com

A little over 16 weeks ago, I gave up chocolate bars. I was eating, on average, two per day. Let’s do the math, shall we?

1 chocolate bar = $1.06 (approximately)
2 chocolate bars = $2.12 (approximately)
16 weeks = 112 days
112 days x $2.12 per day = $237.44

1 red bikini = $18.04

Savings = $219.40

Wise investment? I think so. Denis Leary would approve.

Last night I had a dream that Denis Leary was my man. In my dream, he lived in the West End in a four-storey walk-up only blocks away from me. He had a bad back so I had to take care of him a lot. But he loved me and let me kiss him on the forehead.

That’s all.