That’s it time to be interesting!
Hi guys. What’s up. Okay I don’t care. Sorry I didn’t blog yesterday. I felt like it but then I didn’t, so I didn’t even though I spent like fifty hours on the internet looking at everything. It feels kinda pointless to tweet or blog six hours hyperly-ahead of everything else like throwing coins in to a black hole cos none of y’all are up to read it assuming only people on eastern standard time read me. I think I should shift my statcounter ahead six hours so my blog traffic numbers calculate properly. I’ll just add that to the never-ending list of not crappening. Along with calling Rogers to turn off my phone. It’s been a month and I still haven’t done that yet. I have issues with responsibility big time. Especially when I am in trouble.
Today is day three no booze. There’s an alcoholic in my head throwing a red ball at a wall again and again and again, no biggie. Also, I have decided to kick w–d too so my brain should kick in to overdrive any minute now. I want to prove that I can do it. My only fear is boredom. I’ve gone through life wearing rose-tinted brain glasses to protect myself from feelings and depression and I agree now that at thirty maybe I should cut the crap. I’ve gone through a mania before which happens when you dry out after years of Jack Sparrowing it. Your intelligence comes flooding back, you think you’re a genius all of a sudden and delusions of grandeur surround you like a fog. You get more energy and require little sleep so be careful. I’ll keep you posted on all things my brain throughout this journey.
Back to domestic stuff now. We sleep on a king sized bed and lately I sweat a lot when I sleep. I don’t know what that means but I know I wake up drenched halfway through the night, go take a leak and then go back to bed on the other side of him where it is dry and freezing cold then I sweat the rest of my toxins out on that side and in the morning I look like Brunette Carrot Top. There is no point in even trying to have awesome hair here thanks to sleep sweats as well my Canadian hair straightener either doesn’t work or the adapter (both of them) don’t. I trimmed my ends last week, which are always trying to fade to platinum. I can’t wait til my Craymi mane is long and normal and perfect. Putting it up in a bun or ballerina mess suits me good and fine though and when it’s all big after drying from sweat and curly it looks nice with the volume and such. I have chilled out about my looks a ton over the last year so as much as it seems neurotic to blog every little thing, really I don’t care all that much. You only care when you’re single about these things and only diva dudes with city stress care about them too. It’s best keeping up with the Joneses by holding your own-ness.
Update: my new straightener just arrived in the mail back in biz now baby.
Sometimes being a peacock and too many accessories makes me cringe or feel the insecurity of others. I used to think it was a money thing, a very convenient way to go against the label whore herd by being a non-conformist and wearing an outfit worth less than $20 but still looking super fly. I know that it’s not about money entirely. If I gain weight (and I have) I know that an expensive outfit is not going to make me skinnier, or feel any better. I’d prefer to do the work, lose the weight, and wear a sexy cheap camisole like I’m still twenty. Although as women age we are supposed to dress it up more. All these rules.
I am skinnier than this now. This was after the medieval fair. Walking with my shitty ankle on paths and forest hills is challenging and frustrating but you gotta keep at it if you want improvement.
Yesterday morning at 8am (no judging!) my last day of fysio. He was throwing a ball to me while I balanced. Guys, if you have never torn a ligament or busted an ankle MAKE SURE YOU APPRECIATE YOUR MOBILITY cos once it’s gone it is awful. When I bend my knees, only my right knee can bend all the way. My left knee cannot because the ligament is still strained and tight I’m going to stop typing about it now before I start crying okay too late. I miss running. I would be in way better shape right now if I didn’t run in to that goddamn hole in the ocean in Aruba. I have to practice bending my knees and lunging holy crap is lunging ever impossible. Losing the ability to walk has been my greatest fear my entire life and thankfully I can walk but I can’t jog or skip or dance or run which are the best. If there is danger I can’t run. I just need to give it time and in a few months it’ll be better. Time? Who has time? NOBODY! Every time I get up to walk it’s like the injury resets again, my ankle is always stiff I better not limp forever. Complaining session over for now.
I love them. I don’t love that they are resting in a parking spot. I love their love though it’s like The Notebook and can do anything!
If we go to that festival I will be wearing these. I’m going to put them on today to start working them in. They’re a bit big, the 39s were too small. I figure your feet swell a lot from a day of drinking, walking, dancing, biking, falling and so on. I got a pair of vintage keds in a size bigger than normal one summer and they were the best. Neon is super in again and having bright feet will give me all the attention I so desire if so required. I can’t wear heels so I have to make more effort with flats.
Turkish Sunday dinner, this was baked I totally forget and not that I knew to begin with cos it was written in Turkish Dutch. We didn’t bring the camera cos the card was full. I like us-time dates, you are way more in the moment and if you really need to commemorate it just take a phone pic or two. The waiter asked why we were sitting beside each other instead of across like everyone else and bf said because I want to touch my wife and the waiter swooned how romantic. Then he heard my English and his curiosity clocked in at 100%. This is why I can get away with dressing like a potato all the time, my Canadianness is all the dress I need. We sat by the window on the second floor and watched all the other diners and made summaries for all of them and personal promises not to turn out like that couple or that one, but that one was alright because they left arm-in-arm.
Wine coloured polish. Time to get another shade. This post has no point or direction and no weed to juice it up either haha. I just had a few drags of a smoke out of boredom and a third espresso. I’ll make us lunch in a bit but I can tell neither of us are in eating moods yet. I’m going to go through some pics and plan my next post or add some to this one. Maybe troll a few people j/k. Okay brb not that it matters you’re all still asleep!