I’m finishing my tea, eating a chocolate popsicle and contemplating my navel. Okay, well I’m not looking at my belly button as much since I’ve decided to write but I did discover that if I suck in the leftover baby chub just the right way, my belly button looks like a sad face. That was way too much information wasn’t it?
I’ve got a lot on my mind the last couple of weeks that I’ve been trying to avoid but now I’ve decided that there’s really no point and I may as well get it all out. So far this move and this city has been nothing but positive and amazing. It’s been healing and cathartic and wonderful. Let’s list shall we:
Painting this apartment has made it home. The actual painting leaves me with a sense of empowerment and accomplishment because I am a dork who hasn’t really painted before. Mind you it’s half-assed and messy in places but I did it!! (A few carefully placed pictures can surely hide the places that are obvious I’m an amateur at this painting thing.)
My apartment is a welcoming place, I feel like I’m home when I’m here and I’m positive my babies feel the same way. We’re all comfortable, settled, content. We had a picnic today on the back step with fruit and Nutella, granola bars and juice. We were all fine until Mr. Wasp decided to visit us and haunt poor Meatball (now the proud owner of a Mohawk hair-do). Poor Mr. Wasp, his incessant need to buzz my son brought out Momma-Bear and he ended up getting swatted with a dust pan. I feel really bad about it and held a little waspy funeral when no one was looking.
My neighbourhood is quiet. I couldn’t ask for more. There are no crazy people running through the yard screaming for someone to hide them from the cops; drunken fools falling out of cabs with a different man every second night; crazy landlords, ahem, slumlords who don’t care if you fall on your ass on the ice … and so on. Once 9:30 pm hits this place, there isn’t a sound to be heard or a soul to be seen. Just a thought: could everyone be on house arrest??
My family is in this city. Sure, I left my “real” family back in The Town I Refuse to Speak About but we were never really all that close. My friends, the family we choose is here and has really been here for me when I needed them. I’m having quite the dating dilemma as of late and these poor girls are being wonderful about listening to all my whiny, “poor single me” revelations and the bitter Fuck You attitude that comes with a broken heart. A broken heart that is all my own damn fault but that’s a story for another time. Dammit. Moral of the story: people from your past are better left in your past and Goddamn people, head games are for teenagers and the socially impaired.
Onward and upward. My friends here are amazing. Seriously. Absolutely 100% impressive … stupendous even. Thank you girlies, for all my rants about kids tearing my house down, men who don’t know what the hell they want, my issues with the digestive system and all the toots that come with it plus all the other nonsense that spills out of my mouth on a daily basis. And thank you for not letting me punch anyone in the throat. That’s another long story not meant for this forum.
Long story short: I LOVE HALIFAX!!! Karma smiled on me and allowed me to reach a place where I can heal in peace and quiet.
