Quite the Intricate Entanglement This Is…

Complications??  Oh there are so many complications.  There is so much I want to spew and spill and discuss and open up about BUT it’s way too personal.  Too much is too close and I will end up telling too many secrets.  I’m good at that.  Just feed me rum and I tell all.  Yes, there is more to that story but we’re not touching it.  Sorry. 

I do need to vent a little tonight and this is the place I seem to love the most.  At least going back and reading these silly things when my head is a little clearer I can see my immaturity and stupidity which allows me to correct myself.  And sometimes, most times, I find that I need to trust my own instincts and follow what my gut told me to do in the first place. 

I’m just trying to piece together the last few months and stop my head from spinning so I can finally get a grip and decide whether or not to throw up my hands in a disappointed, catastrophic fit of defeat.  I need to decide whether or not to cut my losses and bail out completely or just ride out the storm and see what comes.  In the end it really comes down to which is the more respectable avenue of choice. 

You see, my conundrum is this:  I’m almost enjoying this ride.  I’m almost enjoying the spinning head and everything that is coming with it.  However, the ride has to eventually come to an end, the spinning has to slow because fantasy and reality never mix, never touch and most certainly leave us confused and burned and out of control.  But cutting my losses leaves me at a great loss and waiting it out could also lead to a great personal cost.  Do I beat the inevitable to the punch and jump off the rollercoaster?  At what point does this personal sacrifice become too great?

Decisions.  Decisions.  Hate those damn decisions.

 

Got my shitkickers on & ready for the wall …

I guess it’s time I sat down and wrote another one of these little ditties (is that how you spell that?).  I’ve been avoiding it, hiding from it for fear of a bunch of crap spilling out.  It’s happened a few times already and they’re sitting in my Drafts folder waiting for me to decide what it is that I want to do with them. 

There really hasn’t been much going on for me to make quirky observations about.  The babies are fine and perfect and destroying the house on cold rainy days the way kids usually do.  Haven’t been out of the house much except to do errands and go to the playground which always proves to be an adventure.  Waiting for my landlord to hurry up and cash my rent, he’s now fifteen days late and I keep staring at my bank account balance and dreaming about the gigantic grocery order I could buy or the tickets to the GWAR/Lamb of God concert in October.

GWAR and Lamb of God.  That is one concert that I have to get my ass to.  I skipped KISS because of my hateful stomach, I certainly do not want to miss this.  I’ve been listening to GWAR since I was about 13, loving them in all their Scumdog glory and now, at almost 30, finally have the chance to see them live and loud.  I’ve only recently started listening to Lamb of God and must admit that I do enjoy them.  The only thing is that I have had to promise myself to completely avoid the Wall of Death.  Don’t know what the Wall of Death is??  Look it up on YouTube, you’ll avoid it too … that is unless you’re a lunatic who likes to fight.  I guess it could be an interesting way to get out some pent up aggression but I’m too stumpy and girly for that.  Regardless of the benefits of Walls of Death, one broken nose in a mosh pit is more than enough for me so I won’t be travelling that road again.  The Road Behind.  Hmmm…good song.

Now I’m hearing that Megadeth and Slayer are playing on November 9th.  I think I just had a mini aneurism of over- excitement and glee.  Glee??  What’s wrong with me today??haven’t been my usual turn-the-air-blue/make-a-sailor-blush swearing self.  Ahh well, maybe it’s a good thing that I’m learning to curb the cussing.

But fuck it:  GWAR! Lamb of God! Megadeth! Slayer!  It’s all my childhood, angst-ridden, moshing in my bedroom and wildly playing air guitar fantasies come true!!

I’m sure as Hell getting my ass to those concerts … whose in???

Catharsis: Not Just for Purging Your Bowels …

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. 

Oh you dirty, dirty dishes …

I have a “To-Do” list as long as my arm of things I’d like to either get started to have finished today but instead I’m sitting on my ass and blogging.  I would love to make a “Honey-Do” list but it’s a little difficult when there is a lack of a honey.  I’m not complaining about the lack of one, quite enjoy being single actually, I just want someone else around to take over sanding the damn kitchen wall.  Is that so much to ask?  Besides, I’m short and I don’t have a step ladder so the tops of the walls are a little beyond me at this point.  Standing on a chair works but even then I still have to stretch.

My list includes painting.  I don’t want to paint, it’s lost it’s charm now.  I just want to close my eyes and it’s over and painted and pretty.  Colourful and wonderful and done. 

Then there are the dishes.  The everyday, three times a day chore that is the bane of my existence.  I hate those things to the point where I’m actually considering becoming a scourge on the planet and buying disposable crap.  But the pots and pans, still stuck washing those suckers.  It’s not a bad job, not horrible and it only takes a few minutes but it never ends.  They are always sitting on the counter staring at me with their dirt.  I can almost hear them in a whispered sleazy voice: “oooh we’re dirty, dirty dishes, clean us silly woman, dip me in the hot water and wash my dirty off.”  Okay, that was weird.

Dishes are usually hand-in-hand with laundry.  They are the dynamic duo of the “to-do” list.  They are the ones that you write down just because you’ll have to do it anyway.  Sort of like bread and milk on a grocery list, you always have to buy them so you just write them down first.  At least I do anyway.  Laundry is a dark place that I don’t want to go right now … shudder…

The housework isn’t bad, I don’t mind it.  Keeps  my busy and makes the day go buy a little faster but it does get overwhelming since I’m the only one doing it with a house full.  All the cleaning, all the cooking.  I’m going to start my training of the babies.  Meatball is almost two, he can start cooking breakfast from now on, hehe.  Little Miss can do the dishes and Miss Lily can do the laundry … there, it’s settled …

Oh if only it were that easy.

My list also has budgeting, cancelling (don’t ask), a giant list of phone calls to make and lots of other stuff that I really don’t want to do today.

HA!!  I figured it out!!  I’m avoiding my list because I have a horrible case of the “THE MONDAYS”!!

Sleepy Much??

I’m half asleep.  It’s almost time to start cooking supper and I’m laying on the couch under a blanket listening to the kids play while forcing my eyes to remain open.  I look slightly psychotic at the present moment – wide eyed with the occasional head nod into a semi-slumber.  I’m doing well in the no drooling department although I’m sure if I did allow myself to nod off, I’d be in a different situation.  Eyes open = no drool.

You know, if I was on the bus right now, I’d be the crazy person.  There is always that one person who looks a little out of their mind on the bus and right now, that would be me.  I am a little better dressed and I put deodourant on today so I at least I smell better than the other half-asleep loons on public transit.

Where the Hell is this post going?

I’m not too sure so I’m going to blame it on my fatigue and just go with that.  People can blame anything on fatigue.  “Sorry officer, didn’t realize I murdered my roommate, I was really tired.”  Okay, maybe not that far but you get my drift here.  Sometimes lack of sleep or even when we do get enough sleep but are tired for other reasons causes our brain to become ever so slightly catatonic with a speckle of functionality.  I’m at that point right now.  I’d probably agree to just about anything right now.

“Hey Allie, gonna rob a bank, need you to drive the getaway car.”

“Sure, no problem, just gotta pee first.”

See, the thing with that situation is that I can’t drive.  Or maybe the problem is that the last sentence didn’t say I wouldn’t do it because it’s blatantly wrong and illegal, just that I can’t drive.   Ugh.  Time for a nap.