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I guess I don't write when I'm in Canada

I always feel a bit confused when I visit Florida. There are a lot of conflicting feelings that result from being around my family again--remembering pieces of my childhood, visiting with friends that I realize (in retrospect) are far smarter than I, and having somewhat of a full schedule in start contrast to my ever-empty Canadian one. Sometimes I feel like I'm just living two completely separate lives, as if everything started over when I moved to a foreign country at age 22. Everything was so different, I never really bothered comparing the two.

I'm not sure where I'm supposed to be. I'm overall content in Canada, but little things gnaw at me sometimes, like the thought of not being with my parents as they grow older. I come home and I love the marsh in their backyard and the beautiful view from my bedroom window (the sunlight pours in in the morning) and the fact that I actually have places to be and fun things to do.

But I like the snow and the healthcare and my mother-in-law and my sweet cats in my hundred-year-old, one-bedroom house in the flats. I didn't ever mean to stretch myself between two places like this, or to feel like I have to choose between things that are so important.

The thought of immigrating again sounds altogether exhausting, not to mention expensive, and I have no particular skill sets anyway (I'm sure they would be really impressed to find that the only jobs I've ever really had are as a nanny). I wanted to be a speech pathologist, but that fell through. I want to have a kid, but I should probably figure out which country I want to live in, first.

Sometimes moving to a faraway place just ultimately brings you back to where you started, and you realize it was the right place all along (but it wouldn't have been unless you'd left, perhaps).

Faust, Midas, & Myself


I'm feeling ood even though my thoughts are swirling around a little bit. But swirling kind of makes me think of the opening credits in "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" (the old one), and I really like those scenes. They make my mouth water every time.

Speaking of things I shouldn't eat, I've lost 10 pounds so far on The Plasma Diet (tm). It's actually just a way of eating introduced to me by my good internet buddy "Plasma". It involves minimal carbs, and making sure to consume whatever carbs you're going to have earlier in the day, rather than at dinnertime/night. I'm not following that rule super closely due to the diabetes, but...

And then she realized she was rambling about her stupid diet.

I have a new kitten named Charlie, and she's super-annoying. She chases Bella around the house batting at her, and Bella hates her, yet is tolerant. Steven caught them both sitting on the couch today, so maybe they'll be okay.

I've been thinking some weird things lately, like how I'm starting to feel old and jealous of 16-year-olds, and how pretty Bella looks sitting on the washing machine when she's hiding from Charlie, and why I had a dream that a giant python was attacking me in my parents' backyard.

I like life, I think it's pretty random.

I don't open up to anyone, anymore

Why is that? Or am I just so self-absorbed that I actually think I'm mysterious? Maybe I just sit here and think of things too much, and I'd rather not--so I dismiss the idea of writing altogether. Whatever it is, it's driving me crazy. What if I get run over by a bus tomorrow and the latest post on my blog was some dumb remark about... I dunno. I guess pretty much anything would seem trivial when you're dead.

Why'd that janitor walk there?

A lot has probably changed since I last posted--I don't even know.

Steven & I just got a nice little wad of change via our tax return, so we bought a portable dishwasher (OH YES.), flat screen tv, and used PS2 (yes, I'm aware we're a bit behind on the times). We also sold Steven's rusty, mile-ridden old truck that was taking up space in our back alley (the truck paid for the tv, actually).

I got a job as a nanny for my pharmacist's kids, a 3-year-old boy and an 8-year-old girl (hopefully I will post pictures soon). I have the 3-year-old most of the time, and he's very well behaved and generally an amusing person, though sometimes I get tired of the constant, nonsensical questions.

I wish I could blog more, but I just get overwhelmed with what I want to say, until it is all a confused jumble in my head and I'd rather just not bother. Things never turn out the way I want to on paper.

Oh em gee

Y'know what? The least I can do on here is post random pictures that I've collected from the internet.

traceyCollapse )
Yesterday, Steven & I passed a restaurant we'd never noticed, named "The Grille of My Dreams".


I need to start that writing little snippets once-a-day thing again, because otherwise I just forget entirely and neglect my friends page as well.

Steven & I are watching Fellowship of the Ring. I've also been observing some serious Left 4 Dead action, but now I keep expecting to see zombies in our house when I walk around the corner.

Dear furnace,

Seriously. Why not spread some Christmas cheer? We're both sick, it's 60 degrees in here, your pilot light is on (so that means it's something more serious, huzzah), and the HIGH today outside is -15. You think you're so cute.


Itch woes

I've been sleeping all day to ignore the itching. It's really hard to be productive.


Dear Furnace,

Please turn on. I know I like it cold, but 65 degrees when there is snow on the ground outside is simply not acceptable. And we do not have $3,500 to buy one of your friends if you conk out.

A Floridian in Canada