You know, generally I do not consider myself an overly emotional person, but sometimes? Sometimes the floodgates open and one has trouble staunching the flow of tears, no matter how hard one tries. (Total misuse of the third person here but it separates me from the e.mo.tion. and makes me less like a dorky girl, alright? Besides, it's my blog, so shut it.) At any rate, you could kind of define me as emotional lately, really. Unless you were The Leester, who would probably describe me as bitchy. Unless of course he values his life.
Which sometimes? Questionable.
Like on Friday night just as I was about to drift off to sleep after a long day and had totally entered the realm of complete relaxation, just before falling asleep. You know the place to which I refer, right? Well, my ever adorable husband put his hand on my arm and gently caressed it, lulling me into a false sense of trust and then stuck his fingers right under my nose and announced that he had butt finger, in a sing-songy voice. DUDE! I *get* that men are savages. I *get* that far too much of your time is spent intimately with the happenings down your drawers, some of which time is spent scratching your arsehole. When are *YOU* going to get that I don't need to be made aware of it? That a fart is not always trophy talk and should be saved for when it is just 'the guys'?? Oy vey!! So, Stinky McStinkerson, keep it to yourself! Puh-lease!
Justifiable homicide, yes? Just sayin..
Wow, talk about off on a tangent. But, for real, you wonder why I have been a cry-baby lately! Most chicks would be reduced to tears at that! Nah, not me. Although a lot of what the stinky boys that live with me do is an assault to my senses, they mostly make me laugh. Nothing like potty humor to keep a girl in stitches!
Anywho! What HAS had me all emotional is missing my family and friends and maybe, just maybe, the whacked out idea that perhaps we have been in Florida long enough now and I would like to move back to Southern Alberta where I can be closer to the people I love and to family events and things. Things like the changing of the season that escorts in Autumn; my favorite. Clean smells, bright changing colors of leaves and celebrations such as Thanksgiving (of the Canadian variety, which happens in October *for the sake of my American friends), Halloween and the hustle and bustle that accompanies the arrival of the Christmas season. Sunday dinners spent together with my extended family. Shopping trips with my Sisters and my Mom and the twice yearly tradition that was dinner and a movie to celebrate our birthdays. Things that a small part of me mourns every time a year passes and I hear of them rather than am a part of them. Things that I mostly don't put words to and instead sweep under the rug that is the tiny bit of doubt that we as the Family G. have taken on too much with this move to Florida, some thousands of miles away from my comfort zone. Yes, it is a place that I will most often refuse even to acknowledge for to do so makes me sad. So, there you have it. The Dee has been busy being sad for the past few weeks and feeling quite sorry for herself. Part of it is due to the fact that I have been feeling craptastic and still don't know what is going on but instead have to have yet more tests in hopes of finding out. Okay, so probably most of it has to do with that, really. Well, enough. I called my Mom on Friday and had a good cry about it all and after doing so, I feel quite a bit better about it.
Also, there is nothing that reminds me of how much I love my life here in Florida than a game of golf with my stinky husband on a Saturday, just the two of us, laughing and having fun, the warmth of the sunshine on my back as I make my way down the fairway and onto the next hole. Or the day spent Sunday with Mr. Stinky and Boy-stinky as we run around like kids and ride rides at the theme park and act like a bunch of big kids, laughing and playing and enjoying life. The theme parks that most people are lucky to get to a handful of times in their lifespan that constitutes our back yard. Or a short jaunt to the beach in late September when the thermostat still reads in the mid-eighties and I talk to family in Canada on the phone who are hauling out their winter gear while I contemplate the sound of the waves lapping upon the white sand squishing between my toes.
Florida? Good. Alberta? Good for some, but not so much for the family G.
What, after all, do I have to cry about?
Which sometimes? Questionable.
Like on Friday night just as I was about to drift off to sleep after a long day and had totally entered the realm of complete relaxation, just before falling asleep. You know the place to which I refer, right? Well, my ever adorable husband put his hand on my arm and gently caressed it, lulling me into a false sense of trust and then stuck his fingers right under my nose and announced that he had butt finger, in a sing-songy voice. DUDE! I *get* that men are savages. I *get* that far too much of your time is spent intimately with the happenings down your drawers, some of which time is spent scratching your arsehole. When are *YOU* going to get that I don't need to be made aware of it? That a fart is not always trophy talk and should be saved for when it is just 'the guys'?? Oy vey!! So, Stinky McStinkerson, keep it to yourself! Puh-lease!
Justifiable homicide, yes? Just sayin..
Wow, talk about off on a tangent. But, for real, you wonder why I have been a cry-baby lately! Most chicks would be reduced to tears at that! Nah, not me. Although a lot of what the stinky boys that live with me do is an assault to my senses, they mostly make me laugh. Nothing like potty humor to keep a girl in stitches!
Anywho! What HAS had me all emotional is missing my family and friends and maybe, just maybe, the whacked out idea that perhaps we have been in Florida long enough now and I would like to move back to Southern Alberta where I can be closer to the people I love and to family events and things. Things like the changing of the season that escorts in Autumn; my favorite. Clean smells, bright changing colors of leaves and celebrations such as Thanksgiving (of the Canadian variety, which happens in October *for the sake of my American friends), Halloween and the hustle and bustle that accompanies the arrival of the Christmas season. Sunday dinners spent together with my extended family. Shopping trips with my Sisters and my Mom and the twice yearly tradition that was dinner and a movie to celebrate our birthdays. Things that a small part of me mourns every time a year passes and I hear of them rather than am a part of them. Things that I mostly don't put words to and instead sweep under the rug that is the tiny bit of doubt that we as the Family G. have taken on too much with this move to Florida, some thousands of miles away from my comfort zone. Yes, it is a place that I will most often refuse even to acknowledge for to do so makes me sad. So, there you have it. The Dee has been busy being sad for the past few weeks and feeling quite sorry for herself. Part of it is due to the fact that I have been feeling craptastic and still don't know what is going on but instead have to have yet more tests in hopes of finding out. Okay, so probably most of it has to do with that, really. Well, enough. I called my Mom on Friday and had a good cry about it all and after doing so, I feel quite a bit better about it.
Also, there is nothing that reminds me of how much I love my life here in Florida than a game of golf with my stinky husband on a Saturday, just the two of us, laughing and having fun, the warmth of the sunshine on my back as I make my way down the fairway and onto the next hole. Or the day spent Sunday with Mr. Stinky and Boy-stinky as we run around like kids and ride rides at the theme park and act like a bunch of big kids, laughing and playing and enjoying life. The theme parks that most people are lucky to get to a handful of times in their lifespan that constitutes our back yard. Or a short jaunt to the beach in late September when the thermostat still reads in the mid-eighties and I talk to family in Canada on the phone who are hauling out their winter gear while I contemplate the sound of the waves lapping upon the white sand squishing between my toes.
Florida? Good. Alberta? Good for some, but not so much for the family G.
What, after all, do I have to cry about?
2 Comments:
Honey - if you miss Alberta all that much, just check out my flickr and you will quickly change your mind:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/awhore/244103408/
Dude, you totally cured it, thanks! :-P
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