VLOG: Reacting To Songs About Me

So as much as I love writing sometimes I just don’t have the time, and sometimes some things are just better done as a video. So, here’s my first attempt at a vlog. Excuse the fact I look awful and keep playing with my hair. I’ve had this idea for a few weeks and was honestly stressing about even filming this. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy me being an awkward human and let me know if you’d like to see more vlogs!


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17 Goals For Summer 2017

1. Eat healthier. Ever since I moved into my own place in April, I’ve been trying my best to eat healthier in general. Almost only homemade food, lots of fruit and vegetables, and no frozen meals. While I think I’ve been doing pretty well, I could definitely be doing better. Two of my guilty pleasures are nachos and pizza pops, so I’m going to attempt to not eat those all summer. (Well… Maybe nachos, just not at home.)

2. Attempt a raw diet for a week (again.) I did this before and I failed pretty hard, although to be fair I did attempt it on period week, so I let chocolate get the best of me. However I did enjoy having smoothie bowls every morning and an insane amount of raw fruit in the house. I sort of gave up after 4 days, but I have to admit while I did get hangry (which is a normal side effect at first) I definitely felt more awake throughout the day with more energy, and overall just felt better.

3. If I can afford it, buy a bike. While I don’t know much about bikes, I know my dream bike would be pastel blue with a basket and I’d name her Babs Johnson. Unfortunately I can’t afford a brand new bike at all, so if I can afford a used one for a decent price, I should get it and save up for the one I really want. Currently I walk almost everywhere, which for the most part I enjoy, but a bike would be a whole lot faster, and would be able to take me further.

4. Have a picnic. I’ve been wanting to take someone on a picnic date for YEARS. Sandwiches, vodka lemonades, watermelon. In a cute setting like in a park or on the beach and depending on the time, we can watch the sunset. C’mon, lets be real, that would be a fucking cute date.

5. Watch the sunrise. Yo straight up, I’m a grandma and most nights I’m asleep by 10-11pm. I rarely stay up late unless I’m drinking with people. Not that you have to stay up all night to watch the sunrise, but knowing the people I know, that would most likely be the case. I can’t see any of my friends being down to come over at like, 5am just to watch the sunrise. I live almost right beside a large park, so it would be nice to just be there and watch it and then grab breakfast or some shit. I fucking love breakfast.

6. Bring my cat to Toronto. My cat is my baby and I miss the shit out of him. I have no clue if living here would work for him, but hey, you don’t know until you try.

7. Go to Buffalo. One of my best friends who I haven’t seen in two years recently moved to Buffalo, New York and I NEED to go visit him. I miss and love him beyond words and I seriously can’t wait for us to be reunited at last. (Devon if you see this – I love you!!)

8. Go to that red canoe in Toronto. I only found out about this spot last summer and for some reason I want to go so badly. I mean, it’s probably kinda grimey and I’m sure a lot of people have had sex on it, but I still think it would be a semi-cute place to hangout with someone if you ignored that part of it.

9. Go to the Toronto Island. I haven’t been to the Toronto Island since I was in elementary school. I think it would be super fun to go there and spend the night, with some drinks and a bonfire. I have a friend who’s done that, and ever since she told me about her time, I’ve wanted to do that as well.

10. Get a new tattoo. I like tattoos so why not. I feel like this is always a goal of mine anyways but WHATEVER.

11. Go somewhere new. Last summer I took myself to Auburn Hills, Michigan for Warped Tour and it was such an adventure. I don’t really have anyone to visit that lives somewhere I haven’t been (that I could afford to visit at least) but I love going to new places, even if they were to end up being lame as fuck, the excitement of knowing you’re somewhere new makes up for it.

12. Go swimming. I haven’t been swimming in two years, might as well make it a goal.

13. Take myself on a date to the museum. I don’t know why people always think the museum is boring, I think it’s interesting as hell, but no one ever wants to go. I mean yeah it is kind of expensive, but it’s not like you’re going all that often. I took my ex to the museum and I was so excited, but he was so boring and it sucked. I need to learn to do more things on my own and stop getting so weirded out about being alone in public.

14. Go to the zoo. I haven’t been to the zoo since I was in grade 2. My ex took me to one in his town for my 22nd birthday, but it was super ghetto and small. I have been telling people I want to go to the zoo for years, but its just never happened. I JUST WANNA SEE SOME POLAR BEARS MAN.

15. Go to a few “local” shows. When I was growing up I used to be at EVERY local show that there was in Missisauga. I love going to shows and seeing live music, and I want to get back into the habit of listening to and supporting small local bands. Plus its a great way to meet some new people.

16. Go to a drag show. My friend and I have been talking about doing this for months, and I think it would be a fucking blast.

17. Overall, become a healthier and better version of myself. Stop focusing on the negatives in life. Be more positive, be thankful for the things that I have. Attempt to not drink so much. Be as honest with myself as I am with other people. Cut out people who have a negative influence on my life. Focus on friendships that actually mean something. Avoid drama and people who cause it. Just be better in general.

Lets see if I can actually make some of these happen.


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Getting My Palm Tattooed

They say your palm is one of the most painful places to get tattooed – and boy oh boy, they weren’t fucking lying.

On May 16th I got my left palm tattooed. I had the idea for a while, had some birthday money, and my lovely friend/artist Rosario (@thewolfrosario) had some time that evening, so I figured fuck it, why not!? Luckily for me, Rosario is a fast tattooist and the whole thing took less than 10 minutes but let me tell ya, it felt like so much longer than that. Hands down the most painful spot I’ve ever gotten tattooed so far. It’s been about an hour since I got it and it’s still throbbing and in so much pain, lord sweet baby jesus help me. Here’s some pictures of the process!

Okay so yeah honestly this fucking sucked to get done, easily my most painful tattoo. I wanted to tap out so badly. I almost did tap out after the heart, before the lace part, but another tattooist in the shop & Rosario starting yelling at me that “I needed the frills! Did I wanna be a No Frills!? Was I a grocery store!?” so I toughed through it all. Luckily for me at least, the whole thing took under 10 minutes, but I tell ya, it was the worst 10 minutes ever.

May 16th 11:17PM – I’m trying to fall asleep and I can feel my hand fucking pulsing. PULSING. SOS.

May 17th 6:00AM – Just randomly woke up, cool. Hand still hurts like a bitch, cool.

May 17th 8:15AM – Got out of bed and took the bandage off and sweet lord this hurts too much for life still.

May 17th 9:40AM – Well damn, I have to say once the bandage was off the pain went away fairly quickly! Only really hurts now when I kind of squeeze my hand together.

So, here I am finishing this post on June 4th, about 3 weeks after getting it done. The pain went away pretty quickly, but oh god, did it ever get fucking itchy during the healing process. I’d say at this point its almost fully healed, with just a few scabs and dry spots left. It did bleed out in some spots, which was probably caused by me over washing it at work, but you only really notice it close up. I thought the healing would take a lot longer, especially since I handle vintage clothing almost everyday (hence washing my hands a lot), but I made sure to keep my hand as clean as I could. As soon as it was finished, I was telling myself and everyone else that I would never get my other palm done, but honestly? I probably would, despite the pain. I think they’re cute as hell, and I think mine is definitely one of the cutest ones I’ve seen.

I feel like a lot of people think its weird that I got my palm done. I don’t have sleeves, my hands, or my knuckles. Compared to a lot of people, I don’t have many tattoos at all, and a lot of people who do don’t even have their palm done. So why did I choose this placement? I just have had the idea for a while and as I said, I think they’re cute as hell. I decided to get “wish you were here” for two reasons. One, I love holding hands, especially when I’m drunk. I will make anyone I’m with hold hands with me especially if we’re walking somewhere, so its kind of a joke towards myself. The other reason is that I have a lot of long distance friendships, and my last few relationships have been long distance, and I just always find myself wishing that I had someone with me. It isn’t towards anyone in specific, and when I look at it I don’t just think of one person – I think of all the people I would want here with me that are too far away.

I wouldn’t recommend a palm tattoo for everyone. For one, they really do fucking hurt, and I think I have a fairly decently high pain tolerance to getting tattooed. But also the fact that they are known to usually fade quite a lot, so that’s a risk you have to be willing to take. No matter what tattoo you plan on getting I would always recommend doing your research first, especially if you’re new to tattoos!

Huge thank you to Rosario again for my cute new piece, you can check out his Instagram here!


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Accepting You’re Not Okay

So normally when I write my posts I don’t publish them for a few weeks and will work on them for a while, but tonight I’m writing this and I’m going to publish it right away. No rereading and editing. No rewording. Purely written from the heart.

There’s no denying the past few months I have been on a sort of steady decline as a person. I think its sort of been that way since I moved to Toronto but it wasn’t so bad before. But ever since March I feel like as time goes on I’ve just gotten worse and worse to the point where I can sit here and admit that fuck.. I’m really not okay. But I want to change. I want to be better.

In life in general I have dealt with a lot of shit and I’ve always been the person to just kind of sit there and accept it. I’m not confrontational. Some would say I ignore my problems. I just cut people out and I let that be the end of it without any closure. And I let it bother me for fucking EVER. I suck at letting go and I suck at dealing with problems. Whenever I do try and confront someone, I never seem to be told when I want to hear, so then I refuse to accept what they’ve had to say. I imagine scenarios that are never going to happen and legitimately let myself get disappointed when they don’t. And I drink. A lot. And I say shit I shouldn’t and do things I shouldn’t. But it’s never been as bad as it has been lately.

I don’t want to go into what happened, but a situation in March just completely broke me. I was already feeling down about life in general, failed relationships, and I had a pretty rough winter. Things were just shitty and hard in general and I already wasn’t doing the best. But I always had a really close friend there to help support me and bring me back up, someone who I loved beyond words and thought I’d be close to for a really long time.

I was wrong. And I was hurt and I felt so betrayed. And then I broke completely.

I began drinking way too much, I would secretly get high at work, I would do anything to numb myself and try and think about anything but what had happened. I would completely just zone myself the fuck out. I just felt like that was it. I’ve obviously never had good luck with relationships, but to know that I also had bad luck with friendships. To know the person closest to you lied to your face, and did something knowing it would hurt you while you’re already not in the best mindset… I just couldn’t do it. But I also couldn’t escape it. I never had time to separate myself completely and heal. I never talked it out because it hurt too much to even think about, there was no way I wanted to talk about it. It made me feel so completely sick and I had already gone through so much bullshit in the recent months. I just straight up couldn’t handle it.

And then I basically became a psychopath, at least when I was drunk.

While I admit I can be immature at times, say too much, and be sort of a bitch I’ve never thought of myself as “crazy”. But lately all I can think is fuck, not only am I crazy, I’m a complete fucking lunatic. The second I’d be drunk alone I’d be freaking the fuck out, the second certain people would text me or be around me I’d be freaking the fuck out. I’ve sent more spam drunk calls in the past month than I think I sent calls in total last year. This has never, ever been who I was. And I don’t want this to be who I am.

Unfortunately I think I fucked up too much at this point to have some people see me as anything other than that girl that gets fucking psycho when she drinks. Which is a shame. Its not who I am but its always the bad impressions that stick with people. I think I’ve realized I’ve been sort of on this path for a while, but it also took me time to kind of accept it and truly acknowledge it. I’m tired of being this person. I hate who I’m becoming when I drink. I refill my cup before its even empty. I drink my drinks faster than it takes me to order them. I lose count of how many I’ve had within an hour or two. I’ve always been a drinker, but I was always a fun drunk who knew what I was doing, who would send the funny drunk texts or selfies. Not the 20 phone calls in a row with another 10 bitchy texts.

Everyone is going to have hard times in life and I am so SO thankful for the amazing friends who have stuck by me, who have dealt with me calling them sobbing over nothing, who have dealt with me texting them about the same issues over and over. Who have stopped me from doing stupid things. Who have paid for my cabs to get home when I’m piss drunk about to walk home while I have barely any idea where I am. Who have literally held me while I cried over the same issue for months. I’m so sorry to everyone I hurt and annoyed in this time. I’m so sorry for the person I become. I wish I could go back in time and stop myself from becoming the way that I have been the past few months.

This isn’t going to be an overnight change and its going to take some time, but I want to be so much more healthier as a person. This time last year I was probably the most confident I have ever been. I want to get back to that. I want to be able to go out and get myself home. I want to be able to accept rejection. I want to cook more. I want to eat healthier. I want to explore, travel, hike, enjoy the outdoors. I want to actually be able to afford to fix my phone that I smashed because I was mad that I didn’t get a text back (drunk, obviously.) I want to be able to afford more organic foods and interesting, natural ingredients. I want to be able to afford more tattoos. I want so much more than to be depressed and drunk most days of the week, crying in bed over shit that shouldn’t matter to me as much as it does. I want so much more than to be that annoying as fuck drunk girl. And I want to be seen as so much more than that.

This week I chose buying a 40 of vodka over food. I drank over half of it in one night on an almost empty stomach. And while I had an amazing night, one text message just completely changed my mood, and next thing I know I’m sitting on a curb sobbing while spam calling the fuck out of someone and saying shit that I don’t even remember now. While this is not me saying I’m going to quit drinking, or that I’m against drinking or anything, this is me admitting that acting like this is not okay. Its okay to feel pain and sadness, that doesn’t mean you need to down entire bottles to your face. Its okay to also want to party and have a good time, that also doesn’t mean you need to down an entire bottle to your face.

Life is weird and its scary how events and alcohol can change you. When I’m sober I’m fairly quiet, I sometimes keep to myself, I like doing things to support my friends and make other people happy. I like baking things for my coworkers, and cooking in general. I like going to concerts, and actually being able to remember them. I like having drinks with friends, but there’s such a difference between having a few drinks in a positive environment, and downing way more than you should and turning into a monster.

A really close friend told me that I run from my problems. I ignore them and just hope they’ll go away. I can admit that for the most part, that is true. I let the fear of getting hurt more turn me away from confronting someone, talking it out, solving an issue. This is what I’ve done for a few months now, and look what it turned me into. I’m so beyond embarrassed of how I’ve been to certain people the past little while.

So this is my open apology to everyone who I’ve hurt, who I’ve annoyed, pissed off, worried, just everyone who has had to deal with me the past two months or so. I’m sorry, and I’m so thankful for the ones who stuck by my side and tried their hardest to support me even when I refused to support myself.

I don’t know if this was my rock bottom, but I’m hoping it was, because that means I can only go up from here.

– Sarah

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The Importance Of Staying True To Yourself

So as some of you may have read on my blog the past few weeks, I have been through some shit. I’ve been through things that could drive someone fucking mental, and while I’ve definitely had times where I’ve felt like I was going mental, here I am as normal as I’ll probably ever be. I’m not perfect, I never will be, but I truly believe I have grown to be a fairly genuine and honest person. Sure, if I don’t like you I may spew some shit, and I may not be the most mature at times, but I would never talk shit about my friends. I would never go out of my way to hurt someone. I don’t lie. I don’t pretend to like people. I’m not fake. I’m myself at all times.

We all know that being a “sad boy/girl” is a fucking trend these days. Who would have thought the day would come where being sad was fucking TRENDY. It’s cool to want to kill yourself. It’s cool to use depression as an excuse to treat people like shit. It’s cool to claim to be “too fucked up” and “too big of a piece of shit” to actually care about someone else.

Honestly… What the fuck?

Shitty things are going to happen to all of us, we’re all going to have our hearts broken at some point. We’re all going to feel depressed at some point. We’re all going to think shitty things about ourselves at some point. We’re all going to like someone who doesn’t like us back, we’re all going to feel helpless at times. Everyone is going to deal with some crappy ass shit at some point. But why is it that now, we can use any excuse we want as a reason to treat someone like shit?


I know so many people who talk so low about themselves, and I know I fall into that category as well. We allow ourselves to believe we’re shitty people because maybe someone once told us we were. We allow ourselves to believe we deserve the shit other people put us through. It’s so much easier to just believe that hey, maybe I am fucking awful and unlovable and that I deserve all the shit that happens to me.


You aren’t and will never be the shitty things people define you as. You may call yourself garbage or shitty but that doesn’t mean you truly are that. I think people are just scared to show real feelings and emotions because, sadly, it’s so easy for other people to fuck with that. There are scummy people out there and there always will be, but not everyone is like that. I understand being scared to open up, being scared to trust, and yes sometimes its easier to put on a front of not giving a fuck about anyone or anything. I’ve been there, and I am trying so damn hard to not let myself get like that again.

This is turning more into a rant than anything, so let me slow down here and actually attempt to get my point across. No matter what people do to you, you should never let it change you in a negative way. So someone broke your trust, your heart, your spirit. That doesn’t mean the next person you meet is going to do the same thing. That doesn’t mean you should shove people who genuinely do care for you away, because while yes there’s a chance they could do the same thing, there is also a chance that they won’t. You don’t know how many lovely people you could be shoving aside because in your mind, you’re a piece of shit so who the fuck cares?

Personally I could never put someone through the type of shit that other people have put me through. I don’t think I have it in me to lie to someones face, to cheat, to just do shitty things people someones back. I know how it feels, I know how much it fucking hurts, and I’ve used that as a reason to attempt to better myself. But sadly how open, honest, and straight up real I can be sometimes is too much for people. I’ve been told its a flaw, its intimidating, but on the plus side I’ve also been told its inspiring. I don’t know, you can’t please everyone.

So basically what I’m trying to say here since this has been a huge jumble of mini rants and thoughts and frustration that I word-barfed onto my laptop, always stay true to you. Don’t let other shitty people make you shitty. Chances are you’re fucking amazing as you are. You have your own unique quirks and talents and flaws and personality traits. You’re so much more interesting when you are yourself. You’re so much more interesting when you are your own person. You are incredible in your own ways. Maybe you don’t realize it now, maybe you won’t realize it for a while, but I promise there is someone out there who really does think that about you, and that should mean more than the people who made you believe you’re shit. You aren’t shit. You’re THE shit. See what I did there? Okay I’m done.

And hey if you’re feeling down, you could always turn this post into a drinking game: take a shot every time I say the word “shit” or “shitty.” Good luck.


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Growing Up Online – Part 2: High School

Ever since i was 13/14, I always wanted to be one of the popular scene girls online, and when I finally achieved that goal there was no denying the reality: I was unpopular in school.

I was never the most popular kid growing up, but I was definitely well liked and had a large group of friends. I was always at someone’s house, had someone over, or would be out on the street playing with neighbours. I never started having problems with friends until grade 4, but even then it was more just back and forth friendships over things that probably didn’t even really matter. The worst thing that had had ever really happened to a friendship was once in grade 7 I pulled out a friends headphone so he’d listen to me, and he punched me in the chest. But we were all so young at the time that we forgot about problems within a week because we didn’t really care and they weren’t real issues.

It’s harder to forget a problem when it’s written in sharpie in public.

In grade 8 I experienced public hate for me for the first time. MySpace was just becoming a thing, and myself and my group of friends were the “scene kids” of our middle school. Boy oh boy, those were some messy ass friendships. Someone didn’t like a song? No longer friends. Someone said your outfit looked bad? No longer friends. Oh but they liked it the next day? Friends again. Let’s all admit, middle school is a fucking weird time. There was one girl that I knew talked badly about me, and everyone knew me and her disliked each other. I’m also 90% sure she stole my brand new checkered belt in gym class, but whatever. I also have a feeling she may have been behind this.

Started as graffiti about someone else, that got turned into about me and a friend.

“Stupid ugly blonde poser emo whores” nice.

On the public park everyone hung out with, there it was. Hadn’t even had my first kiss and I was being called a hoe and whore, but whatever. It was grade 8. While it was weird to see myself and the friends who were also written about went on with our lives and laughed it off.

Entering high school, I had a decent amount of friends and got along with everyone. It wasn’t until grade 10 that shit really started going downhill for me. Suddenly my style was too much, and everyone I knew with a different style kind of stopped talking to me. My school didn’t really have a lot of “scene kids” in it, so over time and over MySpace I became friends with local people in my area, and I quickly found myself with more friends outside of school than in. I became pretty good friends with a guy two years older than me in school, and we quickly got called the “scene king & queen of Meadowvale.” A few girls a year older than me really did not like me though, and I’ll never know why. They would yell out things such as “scene whore” and “bittie” in the hallways, and I had no fucking clue what a bittie even was.

Well, apparently, it was me.

So, remember in my last post how all I wanted was that good ol’ internet fame? Well apparently I fucking got what I asked for. As embarrassing as it is to admit, I became an Urban Dictionary definition. Now, let me just defend myself for a second and say that half of that shit written isn’t even true, but that didn’t matter. That fucking post got shown to everyone. (And to this day is still published.)

You know those situations that happen and suddenly everyone knows about them? That’s how things were with the Urban Dictionary post, and I was so fucking beyond embarrassed. I have reported that thing so many god damn times and it never got removed. Even now if I see a Urban Dictionary book, I go through it to make sure the word and definition aren’t in them. Thankfully, it never has been.

So I was already the girl with somewhat weird style compared to the rest of my school and now, on top of that, I was the girl on Urban Dictionary.

So I started skipping.

“Stop skipping and actually go to class” didn’t quite stick to my plan.

I had more friends outside of school anyways, so I’d skip MY school so I could hang out at THEIR schools. I asked my mom countless times to let me transfer high schools, but she never let me. Through grade 10 until grade 12 my skipping would get worse and worse. I’m pretty sure by the end of grade 12 I never went to a full day of school, maybe one or two classes a day if that. There was another time in high school, I want to say grade 11 or 12, that one of the school washrooms had something bad written about me on every single stall door. You would think as people got older, they’d grow out of doing immature things like writing about people in public.

Sarah Vance has no titties? Sadly they were bigger then than they are now.

I mean, it just wouldn’t be the end of high school without some fresh graffiti about you, right? As I said, by the end of grade 12 I hated my high school so much, had barely any friends in it, and I missed over a third of my classes. Honestly, I hate myself for that. I feel like its partially because of how much I skipped that I never figured out really what I want to do with my life. I skipped so much that I am in no fucking way “book smart” and sadly I am well aware of how dumb I can come off as. I don’t know things that everyone else seems to know. People say words to me and I have to secretly Google them. I can’t talk to you about space, politics, anything intellectual. I’m seen as an airhead who only likes girly shit like makeup and “drama” when the reality is I fucking hate drama. I’ve had people say they can’t have real conversations with me and that I’m too dumb for relationships. Honestly it fucking breaks my heart because if I could go back in time and not skip so much, I would, but unfortunately I can’t do that. I can’t change the things I’ve done, and it seems I can’t change how people see me. To some I will always be that stupid 15 year old scene queen who didn’t give a shit about anything but becoming popular online.

So yeah, high school wasn’t the greatest for me. The January after I graduated, myself, my mom, and her ex moved to Cambridge. (Which is where I met Cole who used to run this blog with me!) I used to visit Mississauga almost every weekend, staying at my best friends house and partying with all my friends. But unfortunately from feeling depressed all the time from moving away I drank way too much and made some stupid decisions. In the end I ended up losing all of my friends, some were my fault but most I just distanced myself from and I assumed there were no hard feelings.


Yet for some reason, almost half a year after distancing myself from everyone and minding my own business in a whole other city, there was my name on an ex-friends Twitter with all my other ex-friends laughing about it. People I hadn’t talked to in over half a year. Who I didn’t even have on social media. Who, for the most part, didn’t have a direct personal reason to dislike me.

I am constantly getting told that I take things too personally, I over react, I’m too sensitive. Unfortunately years of putting up with bullshit like this can kind of break a person down a bit. I’m the type of person who assumes everyone dislikes me. I think the worst about myself and assumes everyone else does too. I assume everyone sees me as some dumb girl who loves drama, or that I’m just some random chick who’s just kind of there and not really important to anyone’s life. There have been times where I’ve broken down and completely flipped shit over nothing (in my defence – it’s usually only when I’m drunk) and I hate that side of me. I still feel the effects of high school and I’ve been out of it for 6 years.

No matter who you are, people are going to dislike you. You truly cannot please everyone, and that’s okay. That being said, there is also always going to be people who you dislike. But I seriously doubt there is ever a real reason why you need to slander someones name online for no reason, or on a park.

But let’s also be honest, when you’re able to talk shit anonymously, that’s when the real problems begin.


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Growing Up Online – Part 1: I Was An Internet Scene Queen

**Please note this is not me trying to brag about the fact I was somewhat popular online because I promise you it is not as fun as it may seem. This will be a three part post. This is simply part one.**

Ever since I was in grade 4, I’ve had a more “alternative” style. Growing up listening to bands like Good Charlotte and Simple Plan, as well as Avril Lavigne, I grew up wearing studded belts & bracelets, wrist bands, rubber black “sex bracelets”, band shirts, Nightmare Before Christmas, even ties on occasion. That lasted up until right before grade 7 when I was introduced into a style I had never heard of before: scene.

Pictures vary from grade 4-6.

I don’t remember exactly when it was, I believe summer after grade 6, my cousin took me to my first ever local show. She is a bit older than me and had a bit of a scene style. She dressed me up in a striped sweater with a skirt and black leggings, and we went to a show in Brampton at a local church. We saw a band called Everlea, which to this day I still listen to, as well as some other bands. I met a ton of older people, including band members, which blew my mind at the time. Everyone had straightened hair, tight pants, even piercings. I loved every second of it and knew I wanted to look just like them.

Sadly most of my grade 7 pictures are non existent at this point.

While I was too young to really dye my hair, right before I started grade 7 my mom allowed me to get a drastic change: layers, and dark brown underneath which I learned to style with a straightener. I was the first person in my grade to wear skinny jeans (which I got a looot of rude comments about but within a month or two almost everyone would be wearing them) and always continued wearing my studded belts and bracelets and black rubber bands that I had already been rockin’ for 3 years. But it wasn’t until grade 8 when I really learned what scene was and knew that’s what I wanted to be.

Because then I got MySpace.

Hadn’t quite perfected the “scene pose” yet.

Ignore my shitty editing job.

Over contrasting, always.

From MySpace I found bands I’d grow to love like Sydney, Chiodos, Taking Back Sunday, and From First To Last. I would also find bands like The Millionaires, Hollywood Undead, The Medic Droid and Jeffree Star. Here I was in grade 8 singing lyrics from vulgar ass “MySpace songs” like Turn Off The Lights by Hollywood Undead (“don’t get mad if they suck my dick, and then make out with you after hoe” and “bitches get mad that I swallow more cum than they can”) as well as other songs that included a LOT of sex, drugs, and drinking. All shit I had obviously never done, but I had no problem yelling out the words to them. I also learned about being MySpace famous, who was considered MySpace famous and trying to find out how the hell I could become one of those popular “scene queens”.

I became friends with other scene kid hopefuls and while my mom wouldn’t allow me to dye my hair black or wear black eyeliner, I did as much as I could to look like all the girls in the pictures in hopes of being noticed. Wearing colourful skinny jeans, way too much hello kitty, hand teasing my hair because I had no clue what a teasing comb was, and over contrasting my “MySpace angle” pictures to upload to my Sarah$kellington page (which I won’t lie – I was hella good at html back in the day because of MySpace) I sent friend requests to everyone, became friends with other scene kids in Mississauga through the internet, and even found myself a cute scene boy to fall in love with online. (You can read about that here – although funny enough, we’re still friends now.) Sadly I quickly realized there was already a way more popular girl who used the name SarahSkellington, so I just settled with a name that I will probably be asked for the rest of my life if it’s actually my real name or my “scene name” – sarahvance, which turned into “sarahvancee” simply because just “sarahvance” looked boring and most urls of that had already been taken, and for the millionth time, yes Sarah Vance is my real name. I still get asked that to this fucking day.

Grade 9.

Sadly there was once a time when I only wore colourful skinny jeans.

End of grade 9 / start of grade 10.

By the time it was the end of grade 9 I had started wearing black eyeliner even though I don’t think my mom really approved of it, and she had let me dye my hair dark brown however I still wanted nothing more than huge, black hair and piercings. It totally blew my fucking mind when one day in Toronto my mom randomly asked me if I wanted to get a piercing – and let me get my lip pierced. I was SO happy. She also agreed to let me stretch my ears the tiniest amount – to a 14G, but overtime I sneakingly went bigger and bigger, always buying the exact same style of tapers until she finally confronted me about my larger earrings and agreed to let me stretch up to 00G. And a month or two into grade 10, she finally… FINALLY allowed me to dye my hair black and get extensions.

Some of my more “popular” photos from grade 10.

The higher the hair the closer to God, right?

Which turned into me finally getting noticed, in the best and worst ways.

To some people it probably seemed like I changed overnight, but I didn’t care. I finally was starting to look like how I had always wanted, and within a few more months I had gotten the other side of my lip pierced. I was getting more attention on MySpace, as well as Facebook since it was starting to become a thing, but I just wasn’t reaching the internet fame I had always wanted. And then I did some of the dumbest things I have probably ever done: I made a fake account of myself so I could post everywhere that I had a fake account, and I uploaded my own pictures onto Photo Bucket and Tiny Pic with tags like “scene queen” and “scene hair” and let me tell you, that did the fucking trick. Except my dumbass never put my MySpace ID on my pictures, so here I was with a growing list of fake accounts of me, yet no one knew they were fake because no one knew who the hell I was. A few pictures had my name watermarked on them, but without the ID, there was no way to know the source of the picture – the real account.

Honestly what the hell is this?

Who the fuck is Noel?

I was the one with the black & white picture.

It got to the point where I had a list of over 100 fake accounts with my pictures on it, some with different names, some in different languages, and some with some bizzare ass stories to go along with them. I even saw profiles of my fakes being faked. If you googled “scene hair” my picture would come up. It got to the point where I had to submit myself to “commonly faked” pages so they’d upload my pictures with all my real links so at least some people would actually know who I was. I loved it in a sense, because it was semi what I had always wanted, but shit also got really weird really fast. Sometimes the fakes would have more friends than me, find my profile, and people would accuse me of being fake, even report me. I would have people message me telling me they were in love with me just to find out they were talking to a fake account, and then expect me to talk to them. I’ve had my pictures uploaded and re-uploaded to too many sites to count. I’ve had people give me the fake profiles phone number and had friends call them to force them to delete the account, even pretending to be lawyers. I’ve had to make “proof videos” which I got made fun of for doing – hard. But the worst was that people in real life hated it about me. I got bullied pretty bad in high school because of this somewhat internet fame I had, although I’m going to save that for part 2 of this post.

Whooop there I am. (Not self submitted page.)

My first proof video I ever made.

Constantly having to prove myself to random people online wasn’t as fun as some people may think it seems. While flattering at times, there were also times it got annoying, weird, and slightly scary.

Example of messages I used to get up from people who had fallen for or talked to fakes of mine.

Some weird old man who used to send me strange messages and reupload my pictures with odd captions. What a dude.

To this day I still get the occasional message that someone had been talking to a fake of mine, however I don’t go looking for fake accounts of myself anymore. At this point they’re all using pictures that are mostly 6-8 or even close to 9 years old, and I just don’t care anymore. Honestly, at the time of my life that this was going on, people using my pictures was the least of my worries.


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24 Songs I (Probably) Wouldn’t Skip On Shuffle

In honor of turning 24 and being too hung over to move, here’s 24 songs I probably wouldn’t skip while my iPod was on shuffle. Music videos included for the most part, because who doesn’t like dying in bed while watching music videos? Anyways, here are some swanky tunes, in no order. (Just kidding, my music sucks.)

1. Black Lips – Family Tree

2. The Front Bottoms – Twin Size Mattress

3. Ariel Pink – Dayzed Inn Daydreams

4. Active Bird Community – Pick Me Apart

5. The Growlers – Big Toe

6. Bring Me The Horizon – Throne

7. Black Lips – Noc-A-Homa

8. Nobunny – Gone For Good

9. The Orwells – Dirty Sheets

10. Sylar – Assume

11. Chvrches – Lies

12. Miniature Tigers – Sex On The Regular

13. Secrets – The Wild

14. Fidlar – Bad Habits

15. Depeche Mode – Enjoy The Silence

16. Marilyn Manson – The Dope Show

17. Black Lips (yes, again) – Can’t Hold On

18. Jeff Rosenstock – Wave Goodnight To Me

19. Chvrches – Leave A Trace

20. Len – Steal My Sunshine

21. The Ninjas – Yeah Yeah

22. The 1975 – The Sound

23. Fidlar – Cocaine

24. The Pink Spiders – Busy Signals

Now… Someone bring me a god damn McDonalds breakfast bagel. Happy birthday to me.


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He Says I Drink Too Much, I Fucked Up And He Hates My Guts

If there’s one thing that I straight up cannot deny about myself, I am the WORST drunk texter. I have bitched people out over nothing, I have confessed feelings for people I really don’t like at all, and I have been straight up fucking annoying. And I feel like lately, unfortunately, I have been the worst drunk texter I have ever been.

I’ll admit, I drink too much. Not in the sense that I drink too often, but I don’t know my limit anymore. I used to be that girl who could down a 26er at a party and then go around trying to find more booze & be totally fine all night long. Now? I have nights where I’ll have like, one and a fucking half drinks and be completely hammered. I’ve lost a lot of weight in the past little while, which I assume has something to do with it, and I also eat a lot less which would also play a part. Hey, if any of you ever want a cheap date, I’m your gal.

But my problem is that I still drink like I weigh more and still eat properly. I always tell myself “I’m a light weight but I can hold my liquor!” LOL GIRL NO. I don’t think I haven’t had a mysterious drunk bruise or scratch in months. But you know what? I’d take all the drunk tumbles and falls over the feeling I almost have every morning after: who the fuck did I text last night, and what on earth could I have possibly said.

It gets to the point where I don’t even have the fucking balls to read texts that I sent while drunk the next morning because I KNOW they’re awful and/or embarrassing. I don’t know where I picked up this horrendous habit because it certainly never used to be this bad. Waking up to see that you got mad or upset for whatever fucking reason and completely told someone off that probably didn’t deserve it… Yeah, that’s shitty. Having to apologize because you legitimately don’t even know why you sent those texts meanwhile they probably hate you at this point? Yeah, that’s also shitty.


Also check out the song DVP by PUP. The title of this post is lyrics from this song, and if it ain’t a perfect description of me lately, I don’t know what is.


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So, What The Fuck Happened To Glamour Trash?

Hey gang, or lack of gang because it’s been over a year since we’ve posted on this old thing and any followers we may have had have moved on to bigger and better things. So what happened? Where did we go? We hyped this shit up so hard just to disappear almost instantly, and that is straight up Sarah’s fault. (It’s also Sarah writing this post – I suck.)

Truth be told I just personally felt like I couldn’t keep up. Myself and Cole had a plan to put out posts every. Single. Day. Girl, ain’t nobody got time for that!

I’m not original, sorry.

While I loved it while it lasted it felt almost demanding to have a post ready to put up and instead of taking the time to come up with unique and interesting posts, I felt like I just needed to have SOMETHING ready for everyday and instead of spending a lot of time on one solid post, I’d whip up quick posts that really, let’s be honest, no one gave a shit about. (Let’s not talk about those pathetic Warped Tour throwback posts…)

But here I am a year later, and I keep finding myself feeling like I miss blogging. I miss writing. I miss the excitement of putting out a post and reading comments and getting feedback. Because it IS fun when it feels more like a hobby than an actual job, for myself at least. I’ve had a fucking INSANE year that I wish I had kept up with and written about, some extreme highs and extreme lows. And while I’m not about to go and write posts about every single event that’s happened to me in this time (although I straight up could, but I feel like I’ve fucked up enough in the past by writing about every detail of my life online), I feel like my life is definitely not about to get boring and I’m going to have so many things to write about in the next little while. Hell I just moved into my own place a month and a half ago, it’s about to be summer, shits about to get wild.

So what now? While Cole has her own blog (which you can check out here) I’m going to attempt to re-vamp this page. It will only be me, so if you only liked Cole, sorry to be the bearer of bad news. I can’t promise how frequent I’ll be able to post, but I promise my next one will be sooner than May 2018.


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