For I refrained from/was too tired/lost interest in ranting about yesterday.
Seriously. All the feelings. But they diminished enough that you’re in no immediate danger of Breanna rage/excitement/joy/pain all at once.
Instead here’s a few brief afterthoughts:
-Everyone kept making a big deal about us putting 3 people in one canoe but guess what, it worked perfectly. The water was so low though that for at least half the river I was out of the canoe, maneuvering it or just walking and swimming for the hell of it. Because God knows how much I love the water. Might I say that I felt like a confident sexy bitch in my new bikini? It’s a rare moment. Let me have it.
-There were also flesh eating minnows. I made friends with them.
-I was a timelord in more than just jumping timezones. Not the best of moments but I handled it well.
-The range of feelings I encountered at Wolf Park was almost too much to handle. Beautifully so, but also depressing as I argued the sad point of not living near it (not that I could stand Indiana) not having had time to volunteer anymore (not that reptiles were ever close to wolves). So many shivers. And almost crying when the puppies joined in the howl.
-My arms and legs are not nearly as sore as I would have thought they should be, but this really weird spot at the top of my abs is, which I don’t understand.
-I handled my reactions and emotions really well, as I have been lately, even if some times I don’t want to. The air farms at night- that is all.
Husky boy and I just went and saw Prometheus (which I can be found ranting about on the clickety), and his parting words to me were, “Well have fun, uhhh, with Marissa and Eddie.”
“I assume because she’s your sister you get along with her but I don’t know about Eddie.”
“Quite the opposite.”
And of course I forgave said sister without her acknowledging there was any needing of that, and she goes back to pissy mode and I want to punch her. Eddie at least doesn’t throw bitch fits. He makes a joke of everything. Which can be annoying when you’re dating them I’m sure, but when you’re the “sister-in-law” it’s just hysterical. All the time.
So I go ahead and make some guacamole, probably the worst batch I ever have because the avocado was smaller than I realized and I added too much lime, and it’s all good anyway. I go back to the semi-conversation I just had with Alex about clumsiness and “a clumsy chef would be fun” and realized, it has nothing to do with being clumsy. I don’t know what the word is. Because in addition to the way in which I shattered that glass earlier, I was walking down the hall with the bowl, chip bag and a cup of iced tea and I just somehow bounced tea out of the cup and into the hallway and I’m just like… hahahaha. Like, I have perfectly good balance; if I didn’t I’d be the girl that trips on her own feet AND falls on her face. But I don’t. I just trip because I’m walking too fast. I bash my limbs into doorframes, tables, end up with bruises or cuts that I don’t remember getting because I just go go go. I’m a perfectionist about some things, and complete mess about others.
If I wanted to be graceful, I could. But I don’t give a damn and I like doing things imperfectly, because I make it intentional. If I make it intentional, it’s better than trying to do it right and slipping up and having to feel upset about it.
If it doesn’t make sense to you, don’t worry. That happens a lot with me.
And so now, here’s hoping somehow I can still go swimming with Abby again, regardless of the car dilemma going on at my house, and if not, at least I get to go canoeing tomorrow :D and then… THE WOLFIES.