Smoking for Spite and Mental Wellness

Oh I know exactly what I am... Among other things I am a filthy smoker, and not just that, I'm a bloody re-start. After 3 years of thinking about smoking every freaking day, I started again. Man, it was AWESOME. I don't really suffer any illusions that it makes me look cool, eat less, lowers my (already perfect) blood pressure- What it does for me is offer an escape from the mayhem and chaos inside my house. I can step outside for 5 minutes and not be followed. I can shut the door and light up and take deep calming breaths and flood my veins with precious nicotine and for just a minute or two, I feel free. Yes, I'm quite aware there's no freedom to be had while you're chained to a cigarette, that's not what I'm looking to escape. I spend nearly every moment of my life looking to the needs of others; my husband, my child, all the other husbands (snort) and all the other children, the housework, the phone... 3 to 5 minutes, 10 times a day- that's not even an hour of "me time", and I don't think it's so much to ask. Yet the demands are always there, just on the other side of that door. Just on the other side of that selfish, masochistic moment, there is my life.

The last time I quit, was about the same time Mr Man announced that he didn't believe I would ever quit smoking, and he supposed he would just have to get used to it. The nagging stopped, the snide remarks faded away, and finally, he stopped pestering me about it. It was bliss. And as the spotlight faded on my flaws, so did my desire to smoke. It just got more and more unpleasant and one day I stopped. Just like that. Cooooold Turkey baby.

But now... Now, it seems that every single move I make is up for discussion, every unsolicited opinion- my life is totally wide-fucking-open. That's not to say I don't care what some people think, but my core motto is in fact "you can either agree with me, or be wrong" (thanks Em :) ), and that makes some of the conversations I have, well, rather difficult. SO- I smoke because I feel like it, I smoke because I can, and I smoke because it serves to alienate me from some people, and the ones who matter, they love me anyway. Yep, if you're going to do something bad, do it for a good reason- I smoke for spite.

So long as I've got two of these....

I should say that my mother's second husband "did the best he could"... but I'm pretty sure that would be an outright lie. He was (is) a total pig. He also totally embraced this... notion of anti-feminism that saved me from quite a lot of hard physical work. This worked out fairly well for me when the lawn needed cut in the summer, or when our 8 Japanese maple trees dropped 140 bags of wet, sticky leaves in the fall... wood to cut in the winter and snow to shovel, and on and on the list would go of undesirable dirty work. As long as I stayed content and uncomplaining in the kitchen where I belonged, I was safe from the backbreaking "manly" work. I was totally fine with that.

He and my mother owned a garage. I would go in to work on Saturdays and help Mom with the paperwork, clean the office, and run the errands. Occasionally I would venture into the back, and satisfy my curiosity. I learned how to scrape gaskets from parts, use the airline to pump the used oil from the oil change barrel, decipher the year/make/model from the sticker in the driver side door. Eventually I could operate the tire machine somewhat safely and do basic stuff like oil changes and tire rotations. But I could always say no if asked to do any of it, as long as I got my butt back into the office and did the "girl stuff".

One day, he was standing around in the shop drinking beer with his buddies and I came in on them having a discussion. He told them "Now Hubba here, she can do all sorts of stuff- can't you honey?" he looked at me, then he gestured rudely at my chest and said "But as long as you've got two of those, you'll never have to worry about any of that".

I looked down at my chest, and back up at the laughing men and all I could think to say was "I'll never have to worry, but you, you will have to worry". I'm sure the menacing effect was totally ruined by my burning cheeks and the fog of beer they watched me through- But I'm sure I saw him falter for just a moment. I'm sure for just a second, he wondered whether he had taught me a little too well.

I hate the way the snow squeaks at 40 below

mumble mutter condensible particulate matter...jet stream... BAH. (Hi Brucie)

Today I make it my mission (after I get the kids to the bus), to take pictures of the cold. I hate winter. I hate Christmas. And New Year stopped being fun after I was about 7. I was born the day before Summer Solstice, and wintertime, well, it just offends me.

So what the hell am I doing in Northern Alberta? Obviously, it's not for the weather, or for the terrific community planning. It's the bloody money, duh.

 Back to my miserable rant about the weather.

Most animals are asleep somewhere warm... not these guys. 

At -13 (current temp), there are still a few die-hard wackjobs out there jogging. Jogging! 
At -15, if you park your car outdoors and your vehicle is warm and it's snowing, the snow melts and re-freezes in a solid layer of ice all over. Your doors will be frozen shut, your windshield wipers will be stuck, and you may actually be forced to... (shudder) SCRAPE.
After about -28 (that's 18 degrees to my friends south of the border), the moisture in the air is totally gone. So instead of the crunch crunch sound, the snow makes a horrible squeaking noise, kind of like rubbing styrofoam packing pieces against a cardboard box. It sets my teeth on edge just thinking about it.

Sunrise 8:20 am (ish) overlooking the stupidest parking lot in the history of ever (Mac's in Eagle Ridge)

After that, there turns out to be no easily discernible difference in temperature. There comes a certain point in the cold where the difference in temperature means freezing to death is only a few seconds one way or the other.

On the flipside- there is nothing quite so satisfying as being the first to tromp through a snow covered field. Even if it has to effing squeak.

Uh, this is getting a little out of hand...

 

image credit

I have been openly mocking the hell out of my good friend Ria for months. She is a "Twihard" (twi-TARD). Every chance I get I post funny cartoons to Facebook, I tease her in person regularly... Once, I mocked her in a text message; "Sorry" I said, "I'm Team Buffy".

My aversion to the whole "Twilight Experience" began when I had the acute displeasure of seeing the first movie on a flight to somewhere, but I hadn't bought headphones. I stared at the screen and marveled at how poor Bella couldn't stop twitching, and poor Edward suffered over her apparent stench. I couldn't for the life of me understand what all the fuss was about! I was determined that the Twilight Saga Bandwagon would pass me by. (Yes, another "bandwagon" thing- do you know I've never seen Titanic?)

Finally, after constant pestering, I accepted the loan of the novels from Ria. I decided I'd give my friend five pages, just five, and I couldn't guarantee that I wouldn't return the collection smelling of vomit. I cracked the first cover Friday night before bed, and now at 5:30 pm on Tuesday, I've just finished the last book.

Damnit I'm ruined. I lost sleep this weekend. Up in the wee hours with the lamp on in the spare room, leaving my bewildered husband to shiver in an empty bed; I tore through the pages, reading until my eyes burned with fatigue. I carried it with me to wait for the kids at the bus stop. I hated to leave the house at all if I couldn't go somewhere to sit and read in peace. What's wrong with me? Is my own little life so dull and empty of romance and adventure that Twilight can take me away so easily? Of all the crazy things.

I look at my sweet husband now, and find myself slightly disappointed. He doesn't sparkle at all. I've been bitten and now there's no going back. Un-Fu**ing-Believable.

Baby it's cold outside... well, sort of.

Current Weather Updated: Fri, Oct. 22, 2010, 7:00 MDT - Fort McMurray Airport

2

°C

• °C
• °F

Overcast

• Feels Like: -
• Wind: 0km/h
• Sunrise: 8:12
• Sunset: 18:05

• Relative Humidity: 93%
• Pressure: 101.71 kPa
• Visibility: 14.0 km
• Ceiling: 1000 ft

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It's cold, it's dark... it's coming. I am less than thrilled about winter. Someone asked me "If you hate winter so much, what the hell are you doing in a place like Fort Mcmurray?"

Well, here's the thing, beyond -5 (that's a whopping 23 degrees to my American friends), I'm NOT going outside anyway! So whether it's -5 or -35, I'm not going out. Even in the "Sunny Okanagan", I stayed indoors for the winter. Too cold is too cold is too cold. 

There's a chance that I will adapt (ha), I remember going home last year in the winter, and compared to the nasty weather we had here, it was bloody balmy. Everyone was bundled up and bitching, and I was strolling around in a sweater. 

Yes, it's coming... Snow on Friday... 

Dying to Death of the "Meh's"

Yep, that's what I look like today. 

 Eventually I might need to eat something other than bread with jam and mini chocolate bars. Apparently you can OD on Hersheys. Symptoms include (not limited to); headache, severe heartburn, digestive upset, lethargy, fatigue, cravings, sore teeth (caramel variety), skin blemishes and, of course, great smelling poo.

 ***update*** So I made it out of the house. I forgot the stuff I was supposed to take with me to mail, forgot the kids swim gear, and one of the little kids peed in the car. One of the kids is swimming in lostandfound trunks that are too big and the lifeguard was nice enough to give me some tape to wrap around so they'd stay up. FML

I give up.

This morning the boys were unusually energetic- even for 7 year olds, even for 6am. They're bouncing around on the sofa, crashing cars and action figures, killing, dying, trying to figure out whether I can hear them so they can use swear words. I have a headache. Suddenly I hear one of them say "Ha Ha I was on a  date with Michael Jackson!!".

That's it. Enough. "WHO SAID THAT!?"...

 they reply "whosaidwhatnow?"

"Do either of you know who Michael Jackson is?"

"umm, he's a stupid singer?"

"Do you know he's dead?"

"uh, yeah, we know"

"Do you know he was a pedophile? Do you know what a pedophile is?"

"yeaahhhh, um... noooo...."

"He did dirty nasty painful things to children! Especially little boys like you!". "NO MORE JOKING ABOUT MICHAEL JACKSON IN THIS HOUSE!"

"Oh, ok..."... ... ... ... "Um, can we still make fun of Justin Bieber?"