Stuff that matters:

Please spread this post like it’s herpes!

The one planet project. Check it out and educate yourself. Learning is important.

The Brian Gillman family This one is a little closer to home for me.  I didn’t know Brian so much as I knew of him. He is however a dear friend of Barry. Barry being the founder of Anatometal, (where Brian also worked) is someone that I not only love/adore and respect but I also consider him one amazing friend as well.  The one thing I love about modified culture is loyalty and Barry has certainly earned it.  So that being said, my heart hurts. Not only for Barry, for Brian’s family that was left behind including his two young children Indigo & Violet.  I knew the soul sucking heartache that I had when I found out about Jason, it was the first time that I had ever had to bury a friend and it rocked me to the core of a soul I didn’t even know that I had.  I can not imagine having to go through such a traumatic loss as a child.  Barry has set up an account for Brian’s children.  Anatometal will match every single donation dollar for dollar.

Which I think is amazing.

When I get paid, i’ll be doing my part and making a donation on behalf of myself and NAYOP as well.  I can’t do much, but I can at the very least do this.  If you work in the modification industry and want to help out, here’s a flier that you can download and print out to be posted in your establishment:







On a final note of things that are important: The school that I work at, along with my company Stuff by Chef Steph (along with countless others) are supporting together is amazing.  As I posted on my facebook page: “One thing I’ve noticed is how generous people are around Christmas when it comes to helping the less fortunate. What about now? Food banks are running on empty and as a Chef, I can’t let anyone starve. It goes against everything I stand for.  It could be you who needs these services someday. Think about it!”  The bottom line is this: someday you could be low on tangible income, unable to feed yourself or your family.  It can happen to anyone, at anytime.  If this was you and you needed these services, you would be pretty damn grateful for the kindness of others.  Also? It’s a really easy way to give back to your community.  Caroline wanted to point out this: At the bottom of the page, there is a video, for every view, Shaw will Donate 1$ and Campbell’s Canada will donate 1 pound of food to local Food Banks, up to $250,000 and 250,000 pounds.

So get off your ass and do something good for someone, somewhere. Pay it forward day should be everyday.


The Naked truth…

I did an interview with a friend for my other pet project NAYOP.  He does freelance journalism and occasionally takes pictures.  Some of them are of moi.  The article has gotten some amazing feedback (thank you all for that!) I thought I would share the behind the scenes view of what it’s like to do an interview with me. 😉  Dominic is a trooper I have to say!  When he showed up I was in the middle of making some lunch, wearing my jammies, hadn’t bother to brush my hair (just my teeth) and to hell with make-up!  This was about as naked as naked could get.

Things you would have likely over heard:

“Steph, what’s with the sun glasses?”  “I don’t want to bother with make-up, what is this Cosmo?”

“Are you seriously not wearing a bra?” “I’m not wearing any panties either, what’s it to you?  Please, call the crew from what not to wear”

And yet, I still look like a rock star!

And so we talked… Over a plate of my bad ass nachos, which are insanely messy but freaking awesome to chow down on!  While we traded insults back and forth about how much of a slob I appeared to be (It was SUNDAY) and how maybe, just maybe I may have taken the whole thing a little more seriously had the interview been with someone else.  OK maybe not, I might have showered but to hell with the rest.  After all, the article was to be titled the naked truth.

Essentially an article debunking the myths on how not all tattooed people are bad asses (even though I AM, with or without my tattoos ;)) How one person can make a difference and I finally publicly speak out about how I felt to loosing one of my closest friends 2 years after the fact.  It’s not something I openly speak about and while lately I’ve been taking up with talking smack about some really bad dates I’ve had (Oh come on, you all know you LOVE the fodder for le blog!) and political non sense, this is important to me.

And while the behind the scenes portion was fun and full of total non sense, the article itself speaks volumes.  This is why I posed naked and with no make up.  I bared a portion of my soul to the world and I didn’t feel that it was right to ‘cover up’ any portion of myself either with clothing, make up or props for the photo shoot.  It doesn’t get any more real then this.

The naked truth, UN encumbered.

You can read the whole article here.  Thanks for your support lovelies xoxo

Time to purge thyself

It’s not often that I “expose myself” online, or anywhere else for that matter.  No one likes a downer, and I am a far cry from one of those attention whore, drama causing, pity me types.  Although someone (only one person in fact) has actually called me a drama queen.  Although, not only are they the ONLY person who’s ever said that.  Apparently everything that happens in my life (according to them) = drama.




Yeah I’m a little bitter, but I’ll get over it.

Although they have yet to meet some of my friends people I know who are the epitome of drama/pity me/feel sorry for me.  So much to the point that they could start their own theater production company are in dire need of therapy.

Anyway, this isn’t about them.  It’s about me.

Fuck you it’s my blog.

Anyway I was reading Tanis AKA the redneck mommy’s latest post on her blog. It broke my heart.  On a number of levels.  I can also empathize with her on a certain level.  Earlier last year, I had a miscarriage.  Had that not happened, I would be just about ready or already have had a child at this point.

No I don’t care to talk about that.  So please don’t ask me about it here at all.  However should you feel oh so compelled to inquire about it.  Please e-mail me instead.  So I don’t have to publicly tell you to fuck off err drop dead please respect my privacy.  It’s still a touchy subject for me.  I am however taking the first step to acknowledging that it happened, I will perhaps discuss it when I’m ready.

Anyway part of her post (mostly how she felt like a failure) hit home.  As in felt like someone smashed me in the face with a baseball bat.  I’m not a parent, but one thing I do know is loss.  Also grief and how it follows you like your own personal natural disaster, hanging out in the background and lingering.  I like to think that for the most part I have a handle on this whole grief thing.  Reese Butler (the founder & president of the Kristin Brooks Hope Center/1-800-suicide) said in an interview after loosing his wife to suicide:

“The first year after her death was the most painful year of my life. The 2nd year after her death was only worse because it was the opposite, totally numb and a total loss of desire to live anymore. It was then that I learned how a depressed person could welcome death as a relief from the pain or hopelessness that ensued.”  Feel free to read the whole thing here (it’s pretty awesome).

Depression sucks.  So does feeling like no one’s there to listen, or feeling like a non person.  Especially when the people that are there for you claim to be there for you, but are far too self centered/wrapped up in their own lives merely pretend to care.  All the while thinking, please just STFU.  I know who those people are, they no longer have a welcome place in my life.  I don’t keep score, but please don’t expect me to give a flying fuck about ANYTHING that goes on in your life, when you could truly care less about what goes on in mine.  I believe in equality, and treating people the same way that they treat me.  So if you take me for granted/walk all over me I will do the same be the bigger person and walk away.

Most of the time.

Sometimes I can’t.

Because Karma’s a bitch and sometimes her name is Steph.

That’ll learn ya now won’t it.

Anyway, moving along!

I completed my OSIS (Online Suicide Intervention Specialist) training at the end of November.  All through my professor droning on and on (Christ he’s such a pompous ass!) and playing solitaire all the while.  Because let’s face it, it’s about as dry as dinosaur remains and I needed something to keep me awake visually stimulated that wouldn’t outwardly distract me from what I was doing.  Occasionally I would glance up and would look at Jason’s picture.  Just a friendly painful reminder of why I’m doing this.  I’m doing it for him, I’m doing it in the hopes that I can spare someone else the soul sucking heartache of loosing someone to suicide.  It was a great reminder and then it became my downfall.

I was there, hitting the finish line. *Cue chariots of fire.* wrote my final and BAM!

I was done YAY!

I threw my head back in an attempt to stretch.  Sitting on one’s ass in a computer chair for hours at a time is harder then you think.  Closed my eyes and thought to myself VICTORY! I was proud, euphoric and stuff.  Then I made the mistake of sitting up and opening my eyes and once again looking at Jason’s picture on my wall and that feeling of awesome immediately felt like:


Now, I know I shouldn’t.  Except a small part of me wonders, if I couldn’t save him, what makes me think that I can save others?  I truly have no idea, but I’ll be dammed if I don’t at least try.  I’m pretty sure Julie (Jason’s mom) feels the same way.  She sent me a wonderful e-mail telling me that I’m doing a great thing and I’ll help lots of people.  After reading that I couldn’t help but thinking the UN-written/UN-spoken words to follow that should have been:

“Why couldn’t you help my son?”

Can’t say I blame her, because if I was her…

I’d probably feel the same way.

This is my battle to fight.  One that I intend to win.  I try to console myself with the thoughts that Jason’s death is not in vain.  Although part of me ( a rather large one) wishes that he was still here and I was doing this because I wanted to help others.  Not because I want to help others because I know firsthand how much it hurts.

Everything happens for a reason.