Please hold, somebody will be with you shortly :)

Hey there Ridiculous Fans!!
Just wanted to let you know that there will be no new blogs posted for the next 2 weeks. This Ridiculous Girl needs to relax, party and enjoy her summer!
So stay tuned for new material when I'm back on July 24th!
And in the meantime, keep watching my Facebook page (at Ridiculous Girl) and my Instagram page (@ leokadiaRG) for the crazy antics that I'll be up to!
And don't forget to scroll back and catch up on all those ridiculous blogs that you may have missed!
Talk to ya later, alligators!!
Love,
Ridiculous Girl xoxoxo

Comments

This. Is. London.

The year was 2000. I was 24 years old. I had a huge job in a pharmaceutical company and was quickly heading up the corporate ladder. During the week I busted my ass at work, which meant I made the rich corporate big wigs even richer (insert eye roll here). It was very stressful but I worked damn hard every day to prove myself. But on the weekends, well….. the weekends were a different story. The weekends were my escape. After university, my best friends and I quickly became infatuated with the Toronto nightclub scene. It was the perfect escape for us. The music, the people, the clothes, the dancing…..it was all so grand, so loud and so fun. Completely the opposite of our corporate lives. We just craved it all the time. We couldn’t get enough! You can imagine that going back to work on Monday was just awful. Not only was my body still filled with Red Bull and Vodka, b...

Remember when you used to blog?

"Remember when you used to blog? Those were the days....." This is what a dear old friend recently wrote to me on Facebook. I was shocked. Shocked that this person who I respected and liked so much even read my blog, or even knew that I had one. And incredibly humbled and honoured that he took the time to send me that simple little line. I stared at the computer and re-read his words over and over again. His comment had sent a wave of emotions running through me. And I'm sure he had no idea, but he had said exactly what I had been feeling for the past year and a half. I must have re-read that sentence 20 or even 30 times. And when I finally felt l like I had tortured myself enough, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, lifted my head, put my hands on my keyboard.........and starting writing. Again. -------------------------------------------------------------- Writing had always been a source of healing for ...

Mouse Mafia.

……continued from last blog post…… Well then……. NO MORE MISS NICE GUY!! This here, was WAR!! I stormed back into the house, threw the empty bucket on the floor, kicked off my UGG’s and grabbed my cell phone. I then texted my neighbor. Dylan. I need mouse traps. STAT!! By adding the “stat”, I had hoped that my neighbour would respond instantly. After all, this WAS a crisis. Similar to a medical emergency. I’m sure that my brother, the general surgeon of the family, dealt with serious situations like this all the time, in which he responded ASAP. Dylan…….however….. did NOT see the urgency in this matter. He waited until later on that afternoon to respond and then “strolled” over with a beer in one hand and a few mouse traps in the other. Clearly he did not understand the severity of the situation. “What’s going on?” he asked WAY too casually....

Ridiculous Girl

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