As the token Canuck in the group, I find it kinda funny this is not the first time I’ve been the one to post on an American holiday. Still, I hope you’ll accept my best wishes for you all today.

Happy fourth of July!

Today most of you are likely heading off to BarBQ’s, or at least hanging out with family or friends. If you’re like me, you’ll eye the food once, thinking oooh, that’s not good. And then you’ll eat anyway.

I’m going to admit my very least favourite thing about me is: My fingers. They’re weird. They sort of twist at the upper knuckle like they’ve all been broken at some point. They’re just ugly, and short of wearing gloves forever, there’s no way of hiding it. The capper is that I have beautiful nails which naturally have a french-manicure sort of colouring to them.

I have the usual issues: my bum’s kinda big, my thighs are, too. I have that bit of waddle under my arms that continues waving to people even when I’ve finished. But none of that bothers me. (Sometimes, sure. Like when Angelina Jolie’s latest movie trailer comes on, and hubby’s tongue near falls out of his mouth.) But for the most part, I’m really comfortable with who I am. My body is (for the most part) the thing which carries me from one place to another, and I think who I am is more important than how I look.

My favourite things about me are odd, too. (Yeah, you’re surprised) One is a scar I have on my shoulder from when I was burned with coffee as a child. This stupid scar was the bane of my existence growing up. People would stare. Ask if it hurt. (er, it was 12 years old at that point. If it still hurt, we had bigger issues.) I hated that thing, and when I was told I was a candidate for cosmetic surgery for it once I’d stopped growing, I was eager to stop growing. But I’ve never had the surgery. Because I’ve rather grown used to it. And it’s made me a stronger person. And without it, I’d never have learned to read as young as I did (I had to stay inside a lot that year, and I was only 2. I was reading well by the time I was 3) And without that foundation I’m not sure I’d have wanted to be a writer. So it’s so tied up with who and what I am…erasing it at this point would be like erasing a part of my soul. (which sounds much more melodramatic than I intended.)

My second thing is a freckle I have. On my upper lip. I never really paid it much mind, but my husband finds it absolutely adorable, and as a result, I rather like it, too.