I’ve had so much to blog about lately and through procrastination and fear of jinxing myself, I went silent instead.

Remember that post I wrote where I was complaining?  Oh, not specific enough?  The one where I moaned about the real estate process in England?  Yeah, that one!  Well it is finally coming to an end.  The house is properly sold with no means of backing out now and we have a closing date.

And we have plane tickets.

One thing I made sure not to mention was the fact that we are not just moving house, but moving country.   Not knowing who reads the blog (and by the comments, it would appear to be 4 of you), I didn’t want anyone who shouldn’t have known to find out before Lee was ready.

Do you know how hard it was for me to not say anything about this?! Not say a peep when the house has been for sale since LAST YEAR April?!  Not mention the short notice viewings, the crazy reasons that people had for not buying it, the fact that we ended up going through three real estate agents before one knew what they were doing?  To not talk about having to circle the block with two hungry toddlers in a stroller 7 or 8 times because the people wouldn’t leave the house? To not talk about yelling at real estate agents while I was in the middle of  a parking lot because they had us leave the house for a viewing, delayed it for over an hour and then never phoned to tell us that they were rescheduling it?!

I’ve had to internalise (read: take it out on Lee only) my fears and anxieties and totally logical flip outs about this huge move.   Our whole life is being packed up and sent on the slow boat to Canada.  No jobs waiting on the other side.  No house (though we will have a roof over our heads thanks to my lovely family) to call our own.  There is a shitload of unknowns for someone who now panics at the thought.

Yeah that’s right; the girl who met a boy on the Internet and left her life in Canada behind is now saying she is afraid of the unknown.  The one who took a Greyhound bus to Kalamazoo, Michigan with her friend and stayed in the middle of bumfuck nowhere with a drunken ex-cop with very little furniture, too many guns and no door on his bathroom is now saying she is scared of not knowing what lies ahead.  The same person who went camping in the mountains in West Virginia with a bunch of people she’d never met and no cell phone reception or much clue as to where she was .. yeah, that’s me.

And then along came the midgets and I don’t want them to be able to start a blog and say “oh the times we had, living in our mini-van and eating pork’n’beans heated via the cigarette lighter,  where swinging from the Holy Shit Handles was our only source of entertainment”.  (note: Get mini-van with dvd player)  Though for a couple of nights at least that would be fun right?  Just like a ‘studio apartment’ version of driving cross country in a Winnebago and who doesn’t want to do that?!

So anyway, my muzzle is off. I can say what I feel like when I feel like it once again and it feels great!!

Plus, getting back to blogging provides endless opportunities to put the packing, cleaning, throwing, selling, and dealing with life on hold.  Just what I need.  Or not.  But just what I’ll do anyway.  Because let’s face it, I’d much rather sit here and ramble on to you guys about nothing than figure out why EBay keeps kicking me out when all I want to do is list a fricking Baby GAP sweater!!

 

It appears that the all of the afternoons I spent with my grandparents’ glass Mary and Jesus (I think that’s what it was) statuette, pretending it was an American Music Award or Oscar as I practiced acceptance speeches into the mirror on the dining room wall is finally paying off.

For years I wondered when I was going to get a chance to be the best soap opera actress EVER or at what age someone other than my shower head would realise that I do actually have the X-Factor.  I was just about to give up hopes of strutting down that red carpet in a dress I think is nothing short of awesome, going to the after parties where I would nibble on fancy one bite foods whilst laughing like Julia Roberts … with Julia Roberts and Vanilla Ice.

Luckily, I’ve had children.  Children who have harnessed my raw talents and in turn are honing these natural born talents ready to take over Netflix and the iTunes charts.

Beware ladies, because Enrique has nothing on Noah:

 

13.7.11: Wind The Bobbin from Kirsty B on Vimeo.

 

And right after music award season is over, we’re going to rest up and prepare for the SAGs and the Oscars!

 

 

10.7.11: The New Jamie Lee Curtis from Kirsty B on Vimeo.

I am an addict.  I have been for years.  I’ve attempted to hide my addiction, but I feel like I can no longer be true to myself without admitting my shameful secret.  We all have our vices and some are worse than others.  I’d like to think that mine is not so bad.  At least that is what I thought until recently.  Until the four of us were walking through a parking lot and I had to talk myself out of approaching some strangers to ask if they could help me get a quick fix.  You see, right on the table in front of them was what I craved and they didn’t seem to be in any hurry to use the goodness that they had.

That’s right; I am addicted to McDonald’s Monopoly.

It’s sad, but true.  In fact, we went to the Golden Arches for dinner last week as a treat for the midgets and they took so long they offered us free ‘desserts’ (can you really call what’s on offer there dessert?).  Without discussion I told Lee that we needed 4 McFlurries. He didn’t question this and went up and procured our freebies.  When he came back to the table he offered me up two flavours (Crunchie or Creme Egg in case you were wondering).  It was at this point that I confessed that I didn’t actually want a McFlurry, but they were the only desserts that came with McDonald’s Monopoly game pieces.

I was almost ashamed.  Almost.  And when we walked outside and I saw the two men casually chatting whilst their game pieces went untouched on their drinks, the urge to reach over and help myself was almost overbearing.  But I talked myself out of it.  I mean if I had gone and won the half million, there’d definitely be some sort of fight and why would I want to share my riches with two fools who weren’t ever going to use the game pieces anyway.

But then we had to walk over the pedestrian crossing in the drive-thru lane and there was the backing of two game pieces tempting me by my feet.  I didn’t know what to do.  Do I embarrass my whole family and get down on the ground to see if someone had left behind the the key that unlocked our future – or at least a weekend away courtesy of Last Minute dot com?  Do I try and convince Lee that I need him to go back and get the piece for me once we get to the car?  No, instead I just tried to kick it nonchalantly in hopes that it would flip over and show me if they were doubles or if they were much needed tickets to a winners wonderland.

And as I looked down to see what I had revealed, tears welled up in my eyes.  Not tears of shame.  Not tears of joy.  Tears of futility. All I had done was move the pieces a grand total of three inches.  I didn’t even give myself a peek.

It was at this point that I went to Lee to confess how dirty I felt.  How I was struggling not to run back and pick it up .. just in case.  He tried to comfort me by saying that they were likely just the backings and that there were no game pieces attached.  Sure, I guess that could be an option, but we’ll never know.  In fact, all I know is that somewhere behind a curtain with the Wizard of Oz sits Ronald McDonald, Mayor McCheese and Grimace and they are all having a huge laugh at my expense.

But I’ll show them.   This year I’ll make sure we actually cash in on all of our freebies.  Even the nasty apple pies.

 

And no, this is no April Fools joke.