Choices

The thing with making big decisions is that sometimes there isn't a great reception.

My plans to move to what is universally known as the Jersey Shore, or as I like to call it, armpit of Ontario has certainly come with mixed reviews.  As someone with incredibly low if not completely non existent impulse control the concern is pretty overwhelming.  The problem with this, of course, is that one does get tired of defending choices that were made with the best of intentions and you shift from defending to wanting to punch teeth out.  The idea has always been at the back of my mind.  My go to was always to move to London.  Last year when I really starting to think about it I tried to put it out of my mind seeing as I had completely lost my nut.   But here I am.  All clear again and it all makes sense and while I am trying to get enthusiastic (I will look good with a nose ring, uggs and puffy furry coat,  yes?) there is a great deal of nerves involved.

Which brings me back to my impulse control.  Not having any has become something that I am learning to not only accept but also love about myself.  To date about 90% of my absurd moves have turned out to be incredibly life altering and enriching things, though they have come with their fair share of consequences.   So this fresh start seems so right.  The thing is, I HAVE to do this while wearing a pretty tight seatbelt. This isn't easy for someone like me.  I'm like a screaming 2 year old in a car seat flailing  about.

Actually, I'm exactly like this

Alas, I am a grown up and I need to be organized (another skill I lack), wise, ask questions (rather than just do it and worry about it later) and take my time.  I look forward to not having to do the whole parenting gig all alone.  It'll be hard work but worth it.  I look forward to being able to maintain (for the most part) my standard of living and being able to enjoy life as it comes.  It'll be nice to actually live in a house with SPACE with a cheaper mortgage.  The houses.....god....some of them are just gorgeous and since London is the worst city in the world they are relativly cheap.   Debt should be a thing of the past, more space,good schools, London derby league,  a fresh start and most importantly the girls wont have to travel hours just to see their Dad.   The benefit of close by Dad, of course, is that there will be someone there to shoulder the weight.  The seemingly insurmountably difficult task of raising three kids.

When we first split,  I will be honest, it was kinda awesome.  I had every other weekend off and everything was marvvy.  As time goes by the demands of parenting increase.  This one needs to go here, this one here.  Can I have 50 bucks, I need this.  On and on and on.  For the most part this is fine.  But there are days where I feel like there is a 200 pound brick on my chest, my head will explode and I can't get ahead of or even on top of things.  Added to this stress is the knowledge that before long the girls wont even want to go visit with him.  It has already started and one of my biggest fears is that one day, likely sooner than later my kids will lose touch and lose a relationship with one of the people who needs to be a positive influential part of their lives.

So, their step Mom has been sending me links to homes.  Beeeeautiful........Almost upgrading the city from armpit to knee cap.

And I can see myself living in a knee cap.

So begins the task of selling the house.  I like my ducks in a row and knowing EXACTLY what to expect.  Sadly, this is not the case with selling.  Markets are unpredictable and for all I know this could all go to shit.   I have been reminded of the time I sold my first house when I proclaimed "I'M NEVER SELLING A HOUSE AGAIN" as well as the time I bought my current house and screamed at the top of my lungs "I'M NEVER BUYING A HOUSE AGAIN"  But here I am!   You go with the flow, you become flexible all the while holding firming onto your hat just praying that you are doing the right thing.  It's scary and stressful but perhaps exactly where I am supposed to be.  I can't really imagine my life without chaos.  I invite it.  It's my comfort zone.

Anyway, I have a TONZO of shizznit I have to do.  Banks, lawyers, moving, real estate, tying up lose ends here and there....gah!  The good news is I have at least three months to get it going.  Three months.... Obviously this means only one thing...TO THE INTERWEBZ TO WASTE TIME!!!!

Tumblr...god....how I love you.

Hillbilly Jim!  Your memes just tickle my funny bone.  God

 Or this......
http://critiquemydickpic.tumblr.com/

WHY didn't I think of this!

Look fellas, I'm gonna give it to you straight.  In North America there seems to be a universal preference.  A cut 12" dong.  I'm not saying it's right or even realistic but be honest, is your first choice a 20 pound over weight woman with a chickstache?  Of course not!   Does it mean you wouldn't consider anything "less"?  I hope not cause I would be screeeeeewed.  My point is this....if it works over 90% of the time and you know how to use it you are good to go.  Submitting these pictures or sending half chub shots to women on line is just about the WORST way to beef up your self confidence.  Why?  Cause no one gives a shit but YOU and you will only be taunted and ridiculed.  

I feels as though I should create a sister site where I just judge.  I'm pretty good at that, totally ignoring the whole saying "when you point a finger at someone you are pointing three right back at yourself"