You may be wondering when the quality and content of this blog will improve.
The truth, my friends, is never.
Why? Because after sitting at a desk for eight hours a day writing technical information about deep sea technology, one tends to teeter slightly on the edge of insanity. I find it difficult to crack open this laptop anymore past 5 p.m. Please excuse the spelling and grammatical errors, because I don’t give a shit.
I’m slowly (and with great difficulty) trying to learn how to make myself and my blog better. Prettier. Unique. Bold! Handsome! Unfortunately, I’m clueless. I have no idea even how to get my own domain, or how to spice up this blog itself.
I’m also trying to juggle all this writing with my dedicated gym schedule and an overly active social life. I’m currently trying to track down a tent for this Friday’s camping excursion while panicking about finding a date for Saturday’s party, just so I don’t have to go the foreign kid’s house and possibly get lured into making out with him again.
And I’d try to put my friends on hold temporarily, but hell, wouldn’t I pass up fantastic story opportunities in the process? Plus this house is a zoo. We party all the time. Party all the time. Party all the time.
And then there’s the travel writing articles I wish I could get done, and omigawd if only I could get a little extra income, I could afford that Lasik eye surgery and the Alaskan Malamute…
But anyway, I’ve condensed the last few days of my Ottawa trip. I’m sure you’re sick of hearing about my awesome family.
Ottawa, days 5-6 – The end
The last two days of my trip were surprisingly quiet. Oh, except for that UFC party I went to with Avril’s friends. We ran out of booze within two hours and after panicking like idiots for an hour, her friends finally gave us beer to make us shut up. Then we challenged them all to some drinking games, and they could only be coerced into participating when we boasted about how Newfies are such better drinkers than dirty mainlanders.
Anyway, as I sat down to watch the fight, I thought this is going to fucking blow. But just ten minutes into the fighting, I was hooked. My mouth was hanging open. Sweet little lamb that I am, I was absolutely mesmerized. And when goofy George St. Pierre took to the ring and charmed the pants off me with his flawless techniques, I nearly slid off the couch and entered a coma. Too bad he has a silly French accent.
Unfortunately, none of Avril’s friends were make-out worthy and I’m pretty sure one of them was white power.
The next day, I phoned up Aunt J to take me shopping. GOOD LORD that woman is a SAVAGE! We went into every store and she hauled pants and skirts and shirts and tank-tops of racks and piled them so high into my arms that I couldn’t breathe, then forced me to try on every single item. And even when I whined about paying full price for something, she punched me in the face and said BUY IT BITCH. So I wept silently and bought all these gorgeous, new, beautiful clothes, and I’ve had a new outfit to wear to work every day since I returned home! Oh thank-you Aunt J! I can no longer afford to renew my driver’s license or get my wisdom teeth yanked out, but I do not regret shopping with that woman at all.
The rest of my trip was spent poolside at Uncle Den’s with the entire Kendell clan. I was overfed and people kept thrusting money and Birthday cards upon me, which was much appreciated after my ridiculous shopping experience.
Immediately after leaving my family gathering, I was seized with anxiety and I remained in a depressed state until…well, until now. I have also been unbearably homesick for my parents and brother, so I’ve planned a trip home in two weeks.
There is a fine thread holding my family together. My Uncle (Avril’s father) has recently been diagnosed with a very aggressive stomach cancer. I don’t think I realized how much I loved that man until I stepped foot in his house, and he immediately treated me like his daughter, hugging and kissing me whenever I was around. I held it together for the duration of my trip, but as soon as I sat on the plane I cried my heart out. Sobbed and snorted. And then I called mom, and sobbed and snorted some more.
I cannot, absolutely cannot accept the fact that such an amazing, gentle man has to deal with this sickness. I picture his perfectly loving eyes and I miss him. I cannot bear to see Avril’s perfect family struggling through this. I see my grandmother reflected in all her children: pure kindred souls, without an ounce of evil. I feel so heartsick.
Then my parents went missing for two days. I hadn’t heard from them, nobody was answering the phone, I couldn’t get in contact with my relatives at home, etc…I was beside myself at work, until FINALLY mom messaged me online to say that Bro had been taking seizures again, and was kept in the hospital overnight for observation. Which is a good thing, other more terrible things were crossing my mind and it made me reach a desperation for seeing my family again. I need home.