Wednesday, March 2, 2011

[the only hting that belongs here is a string of nonsensical swears]

So, This is day 4 of no smoking. Fuck you, I'd smoke if I had any. But I don't. So I guess that's good. I am however fantasizing fairly seriously about leaving every city in the world ever behind. This whole "people" thing that i seem to be surrounded by is really kind of a bit much, i think. Really though, I'm just planning my escape in terms of "how long will it take to grow and cure enough tobacco leaves for me to have it to a pace wherein i can always have tobacco whenever i want it?" and planning everything according to that right now.

If there was a lack of sentences in that paragraph, i'm sorry. Words aren't my strong suit at the best of times. the brain melting withdrawl has been hard on my communication skills. and patience. and ability to  cope in any way other than avoidance. it's pretty fun. i think i'm doing ok though.  drinking lots of water, and tea, and hot water, and taking walks when i can (it's been cold. COLD. like, -27 cold. without factoring in the windchill. I had a moment last night, when the kidlet was at the co-parent's house, that I NEEDED TO GO OUTSIDE AND RUN AROUND. first thought, obviously, was "i haven't checked out those two dumpsters down that way, maybe i'll find something. that'll be an adventure" luckily, before i got too far ahead of myself, i realized that not being able to find my mitts really was the end of the adventure. touching metal with bare hands in -40 (windchill included) temperatures, at night, alone, isn't gonna be a very good idea. at all.  So I boiled some water, went to the backyard, stood outside for about 10 seconds, said "fuck this shit" under my breath and went to bed.

I need spring. I need it soon. I'm pouring through canning recipes to find delicious things to preserve, and as the food makes its way to me i'll be ready for it with 57 &1/2 mouthwatering recipes that i've somehow convinced a couple dudes to join me in canningland for. I'm looking at prices of land in the kootenays, which is REALLY getting ahead of myself, because the kidlet won't be allowed to be subjected to my ferality by the co-parent until after she can consent to it, so at least 16. sigh. so many years. well, i'll hover around 50% until i just fly over the edge anyway. A well-meaning friend was telling me about how the job that i do pays much better in victoria, and that made me think of a few cabins i could rent out there and part-time drop out into for a while. Oh, the dreamings. This is not time to be realistic. this is the only way i'll get through the next two months of "STILL FUCKING FEBRUARY, JERKS."

On the kidlet note, she's doing well. The fact that every kid she has ever played with in her entire life has the chicken pox right now thing is kind of funny. When i came back from the trip the co-parent told me the news. Now there's a spot on her neck and i'm making plans to do pretty much nothing but cuddle her and give her lots and lots of baking soda baths for the next week. it's gone around before and she hasn't gotten it, but this seems like some sort of virulent craziness that's taking over the kids who DID get the vaccines for it even.well, if she's gonna get them, it might as well be now. It won't cut into her toddler resistance training with all her other pals who have the sick, and the first few days she can hang out in the comfort of a well-known home and sit and be poxy with no pressure, and maybe even just hang out at her dad's house and watch baby shows in pj's all day. we're still figuring that one out.

Have I told you lately that she's started to say "i love you?" that's a weird one. you've got this rather tiny creature who is ordinarily bent on nothing but the destruction of your pantry and conversations. once in a while they want you to turn their dominoes into playgrounds or throw cars off of jumps that you've painstakingly constructed which cross two couches a kid desk and a couple of milk crates, but really they're not that interested in you unless you have food. then WHAM. "I love you, mama." makes my heart melt every.single.time.

Also, for those of you still able to follow this post, not smoking is BAD FOR MY MENTAL HEALTH. seriously. I'm keeping it together, but I don't actually know if i'm doing a very good job. and i'm pretty sure that i'm not actually keeping it together, i'm just not saying a lot of things and not seeing a lot of people and being all-too-upfront about the fact that i quit smoking and am CRAZY when i do have to interact with people and expecting everything to turn out all right in the end because of that. But seriously. I just want a goddamned cig already.

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