Nerves. (4)

Tonight is going to be a potentially embarrassing, hectic, and late night, therefore I cram this post in on my not so lunch break, lunch break.

Leave work at 5.

Go home and vegetate on the couch, tv, cell phone and computer free to detach. Maybe meditate a little if I can clear my head fast enough.

Leave at 5:45 to pick up the boy.

Drive to the quatre cinq zero formerly known as the South Shore, and pray the whole way across the Champlain Bridge that it sustains itself long enough till we make it across.

Arrive chez les parentals and prepare for embarrassment…

He’s meeting my parents for the first time. Not only the parents, but my Mom’s best friend and her husband who have known me long enough to say they have seen me bathe in their kitchen sink.  God, I pray they don’t talk about me bathing in the sink…Or, while we’re praying, that they don’t come prepared with the photos of said bathing…

Those two definitely have enough dirt on me to turn this night into a reminiscing landslide of trips down memory lane. Not to mention the stash of DVD’s of my youth neatly hidden in my Mother’s closet that they love to bust out upon the arrival of any new guests. And yes, I was a cute kid, but the 15 minute video of me crossing that 5 foot rope bridge, timidly, quietly, and oh-so precisely, is a little uncomfortable.  I’m not even sure what’s worse... That my mother filmed the entire 15 minute process, or that it took me that long to get across, thinking that with each movement, I would fall through and plummet one whole foot to my death. (Maybe it’s time to admit to my fear of bridges that I’ve subconsciously tolerated and suppressed for so long.)

If I’m newly single tomorrow, at least I'll know why.

Glutard. (3)

Glutard: a term most recently brought to my attention.

Defined as; that annoying girl in the restaurant who asks  a million and one nit-picky ingredient based questions before ordering her meal. She has a toastless breakfast, therefore forcing her to order scrambled eggs with nothing to absorb a sunny side. She has salad for lunch not because she's dieting but because her frenemy is that delicious looking sandwich conveniently place beside that moist banana chocolate chip muffin. She brings rice when she goes to her parents house, and rinses the gravy off of her mothers stew. She has a father who thinks it's all whooey and a mother who wants to take her grocery shopping all the time to make she's eating well. For dessert, she passes on the red velvet cheesecake, and discontentedly opts for a Glutino wafery cookie. If she's feeling sassy, maybe two.

Welcome to my world.

Peaceful drive. (2)

My patience has really been takin' me for a ride, and frankly I’ve had just about enough. I either need to pull over, or attach one of those chains to the back of my pants to prevent motion sickness. Any chance you think they’ll be trending for spring? I could get a head start on innovation. Probably not, huh. Or maybe I’ll just tattoo “Where am I going, and why am I in a hand basket” across my back.

Going to hell in a handbasket? No? Maybe this was a bad idea…

I’ve never been a fan of Route Crazy, but lately I can’t seem to merge onto Peaceful Drive. Everybody’s moving at the speed of light, honking, talking on their phones, texting, texting while backing up, putting on makeup, putting on makeup while backing up, plowing…Don’t even get me started on  the asshole that is the city of Montreal who loves to plow at 12:40 am.

Our world is so fast paced and proves incredibly difficult to keep up with. That’s part of the reason for this blog. And it’s title for that matter. Sigur Ros is like the epitome of relaxed. The entrancing and ethereal sounds of their song Staralfur calms me down instantly each and every time. Hense the title. It reminds me that I need to slow down and breathe every once in a while. In other words I need to ‘simmer down.' (My grade 9 English teacher would be proud. She would always tell my very rowdy class: "Simma down now! I said...simma down.." Back then I thought she was nuts. Now I realize she just may have been a genius undercover.).

I know it's only day 2 of posting, but the hopeful in me thinks this may be one of the most fabulous of ideas. My head is definitely clear as I write this. (Clear aside from the ever present and pending fear of over exposing myself to strangers...But we'll disregard that...)

Then, there is the cynic in me who I know is just waiting to question in a day or so exactly what I've gotten myself into...A post a day for a whole year?

I have but one answer to that cynic.

You'll never get anywhere if you don't try. 

You don't need to go full speed ahead, but you definitely need to accelerate if you wanna get on that highway. 

It's over. (1)

Mr. Moleskin, 

I've been procrastinating for far too long.

I kept telling you that I wanted to get back into blogging and you were never supportive. You played into the fact that I had an old soul. And not only that, but I became a total pen and paper whore as I continued to scribble away during the course of our pretty serious 1 year relationship.

I don't know if I can do this anymore...

You went almost everywhere with me and I told you my darkest secrets. I even weighed the pros and cons of committing to this blog with you. We talked about this. You can't say you didn't see it coming. 

While you were always very good to me, I just don't think it's working. It's not you. It's me.  I need a change. A challenge. It was too easy to write in you whenever I felt like it. I want to commit to something more. Something like a post a day for a year that others will actually hopefully read. It was too much about you, and I need some 'me' space. I want to put myself out there. 

Maybe we can still be friends?

Your ex pen and paper whore,

Alissa

xox