Hey planet, I know it’s was just your birthday - happy bazillion and twenty five (or is it six?) - so I’ve been thinking a lot about you. It’s is a hella good time to reflect and think a bit more about what’s really going on with us. We’ve got some work to do.

All right winter, you win. You have broken me. Typically I delay the urge to communicate my distaste for your lingering until after Memorial Day weekend in May. This year no can do. You have crawled deep under my skin.

After a few busy weeks, things are starting to slow down for me. I can take a breather before it’s nutcrackers again. It’s that calm before the holiday storm state. With that aforementioned feeling of extra time, some of my more hard-to-reconcile thoughts are creeping in. Thanks brain.

While I am no insider, I have spent more time playing and following your sport than I ever thought I would. The things you do for the ones you love, am I right? Fore! I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not the hugest fan of yours. I’m not sure I’m even a fan of your play, really. Hear me out.

I double-checked my calendar and we officially started December 21. For the past few weeks all your buddies have been telling me – pleading really – to see that it’s almost over. They are saying that we are nearly done. Remember when I told you that I’d be honest with you? You do? Okay then. I’m so confused.

The post I had ready for today was trashed. I, like so many others, was totally shocked as the 2016 American Election results poured in last night. If you asked me a day ago I would have laughed if you told me that was party or leadership I thought I was waking up a neighbour to. I hoped that my neighbours chose love over fear. I dreamed that progress would be the choice of Americans over hate. I wished for a woman in a pantsuit rather than being Trumped.

Ladies, Have you ever asked yourself, “I wish I was taken more seriously.” Or how about, “I wish I felt more confident?” If you have, please know first, you are not alone.  Second, you are capable and attractive. Third, that said, it may start with something simple and fixable AF.

Dear Closet... We need to talk. I’ve been meaning to bring it up for a long while but I just didn’t know how. But it’s a new year. With a new year often come resolutions. This is mine. See, and I say this with love, you have been getting out of hand. It’s too much. 

This past week has been mighty chilly in Calgary. You seem to be bundling up except for one key area: your legs and, me, your tush. You see those leggings you’re wearing as if they are pants just aren’t cutting it. They’re leggings, not pants after all. 

Dear White Clothing, Why do you tempt me so? Although I wear you all year long, you are especially popular in summer. I can’t seem to get you off my mind.