smells like fish? avoid it like the plague

today, dennis texted me.
now this normally gives me much delight and fills my soul with happiness, because lately texts from him have been few and far between due to his high work/stress load that comes with the end of school exams and such. but this time all the excitement that had built up quickly came crumbling down because all the conversation entailed was...

d: it smells funky in the apartment, but i don't know what it is

 (it didn't smell funky when i left for work this morning, so it has to be something he did, right? right!)

me: like garbage?

d: no like fish

i am now terrified to go home

i hate fish people. alive, dead, the smell, their creepy little beady eyes, just the thought of them sends chills up my spine. ironically i love to fish. maybe because i'm not a "catch and release" kind of girl, i'm more of a "you were dumb enough to bite the worm randomly dangling just below the surface of the water , and now you will pay for it" type of fisherman.

and now, because of this fishy fear of mine, swimming in lakes has become a source of panic for me, which is really quite ridiculous, especially because i am a swimmer. but just think about it, you know they are there, but you can't see them! there is nothing more terrifying to me than knowing that those slimy little suckers could be swimming around, or just under my feet and not know it. and heaven help me if i actually see the shadow of one through the murky water.

i'm not exactly sure where this aversion to fish first started, but i have a sneaky suspicion that it has something to do with the dulse that my mom used to eat growing up. if you dont know what dulse is exactly, i envy you. it's dried out seaweed! how grose is that? first, my mom is like one of the pickiest eaters known to man, yet she eats seaweed, something just doesn't match up for me there. do you eat weeds that grow in your garden? no. do you drink sea water? no! so why would you eat it? you shouldn't.

sea food in general i am not a fan of. you would think that 4 years of living in nova scotia would have taken me out of my comfort zone a little bit, but no, if anything it just made me more "anti-fishy".

now that's not to say i haven't tried to eat some, because i have. i always say that before i completely write something off, i will try it, and make sure i really don't like it, with the exception of a few things, i mean eye balls should never be eaten, i don't care if it is considered a delicacy. i will even test a some things out a few years down the road, just to make sure i still hate it. and as proof i have recently discovered that i now love bananas. but olives, those things are still just as nasty as ever.

so, here is what i will eat

salmon, heavily season, or dowsed in lemon juice.
lobster is tolerable, soaked in vinegar.
shrimp, covered in any kind of dipping sauce
tuna, only in a handmade sandwich made by my grandmother, so i guess there won't be anymore of those.

but that is about it

and you know what? i am completely fine with that

because of her

i remember sitting on a stool beside my grandmother as she sewed up a storm, and just watching her in utter amazement. 

she started me out slowly. at first, i sat on her lap holding the fabric under her sure hands, as we guided the fabric through together. then, i didn't need her hands anymore, but her feet still worked the pedal (it's not like i would have been able to reach anyway). 

but then, she handed me that piece of scrap fabric one day, told me i knew what to do, and i began to sew...

she bought me my very own machine when i was 13, and there are few things that have matched the excitement i felt that day. 

 from there i started out small, mostly pillows, pillow cases, doll clothes. i took a few home ec. classes in middle school, but nothing more beyond that. all that i know has come from her, and what i have been able to figure out along the way. 

i have now taken those basic skills and techniques that she taught me, have developed the confidence in my abilities to start taking on bigger and better projects, and i think if she were here she would be proud....

please excuse the massive photo explosion about to take place

dennis told me to do something different

so i threw my head back...

and then way down...

that makes sense right?

when i slip this new creation onto my body, i feel the warmth of her kiss on my cheek, hear her voice as she calls me her "chelsea dear", and once again feel her strong, sure hands on mine, guiding the fabric along.   

yes, i think she would be proud. 

thinking out loud

if you know me, i mean really know me, you know that i have an opinion when it comes to most things (remember? if not check here).but if you are one of those who don't know me all that well, you probably think i am a pretty quiet person. if you would consider yourself as part of the later group, well you're in for a taste of what those close to me have to deal with, and who knows, maybe it will help sway your decision of if you want to be part of the former group.

there are many things about this world that we live in that quite frankly just confuse me, it's like common sense has just gone out the window or something. but lately there has been something at the forefront of my mind, a trend that i am quiet frankly completely confused by, and that is fashion blogging. if you don't know what that is well... maybe google it and take a look at some? i just don't get what is going through some of these girls brains when they are putting their outfits together. now don't get me wrong there are a few blogs that i have come across that in my opinion, are hitting the nail right on the head, but for the most part after scrolling through some blogs, and after witnessing what these women have actually worked up the nerve to walk out of their own homes wearing, i am left with a big ole ? i mean really, have you seen some of the things that these chicks are pairing together and calling it fashionable? for their sake i really hope they, the whole lot of them, are colour blind or something, because sister, that horizontal stripped shirt does not go with those leopard print pants, just throwing on a fur vest doesn't magically mean you are making a "high fashion" statement, and mustard yellow? contrary to popular belief, does not go with everything. no, just no...

now i know this is coming from a person that can't comfortably wear a blue t-shirt with jeans (remember, the blues don't match!), so i am sure there are a few things that i might look at and think "um... really?" that others think is just fine, but that's just because those other people are also colour blind. ha! just kidding.

and what is with this ghetto/hippy/homeless look that everyone seems to be trying to perfect? while killing some time on my pick-me-up website, Pinterest You Are Drunk i came across this post

EVER CONFUSED AS TO WHETHER A WOMAN IS HIGH-FASHION OR JUST HOMELESS? IT’S IN THE TOES

exactly!

i look at her and just think "oh honey, what truck hit you this morning?"

i know that when it comes to fashion in this day and age there really are no rules anymore, redheads are no longer ridiculed for wearing pink, it is ok to wear white after labor day, and as previously mentioned, every colour and pattern under the sun can be paired together.

but you know what? rules are rules for a reason, and they are meant to be followed, until the end of time. ok so maybe that is a little extreme about the whole red hair and pink thing, and white is just tricky any time you wear it, but the colour/ pattern mixing? that should never be done. ever


ever

lately

according to my iphone...

yep, that about sums it up

the same, but different

a common phrase that i heard coming from the mouths of my parents growing up was "you are just like your mother", or "you are just like your father". sometimes they couldn't even come to an agreement on who i really belonged to, and would lay blame on each other for whose genetics were responsible for my actions at the moment.

but this i know for sure,

my mother is responsible for:
- my fair skin (andrew and cass got my dad's dark, easily tanned skin)
- my road rage (mom, you know what i mean)
- only being able to describe something as being "stupid" if it just won't work for me
-  my matchy matchy nature. to this day i can't bring myself to wear a blue t-shirt and jeans, the blues just don't match!
-always having an opinion about something, i may just not want to share my opinion
- all of the furniture in my living room, ha!

my father is responsible for:

-my thick, dark hair (most days, i thank you)
- my ever changing eye colour
- my twisted sarcastic nature that most people don't really get, other then him.
- chicken scratch like hand writing
- ability to sit and read a book for hours on end
- all my handy man skills, that quite frequently surprise dennis.

i could go on

but there is a major part of who i am that is uniquely my own. it is something that i definitely did not inherit from either of my parents, and none of my siblings really have this quality about them. my parents even thought that me and my sister sharing a room would cure me, but it had the opposite affect, it rubbed off instead, causing her to take on this trait for a short time as well. but it's ok, she got her own room when andrew moved out, so the world is back on it's proper course again.

this ladies and gentlemen would be...

my absolute hate for cleaning

yep, that's right

cleaning, a curse that you would think had been sent to me straight from hell. we go together like oil and water. like i said, i don't know where it came from, both of my parents are very clean people, my mom maybe more so then my dad with most things, but man, he sure can get your car cleaner, and and white shirt whiter then the day you first bought them.

cleaning has just never been my strong suit, since being married though i have gotten a lot better. i normally clean about one room a day after i get home from work, but it is usually just a quick once over. i get the essentials done on a weekly basis, but maybe not as much as others would. please don't think my home is a pig sty, it really isn't. maybe my mom just set the bar really high, yeah, let's go with that.

but there is something else that goes along with this little trait. about every few months, all of those dormant cleaning impulses that have been laying low all of a sudden wake up, and shout out "i gotta clean!"  

and so i clean

i clean like a horse with blinders on, and i don't stop until i have reached the end.

this past saturday was one of those days. it helps that we have a fairly small apartment, so it only take a few hours to thoroughly clean from top to bottom.

i am now wishing that i had taken picture of what it looked like after we were done, because it sure isn't going to look like that again for another few months.

i love the feeling that comes with a clean home, it almost makes me think that i should just clean more frequently, so it feels like this more often.

almost.

it happened

well i had a pretty good streak going, but sadly it all came to an end this morning.

for the first time since dennis placed my beautiful engagement ring on my finger, i forgot to put it back on in the morning after getting ready for the day.

and i feel completely naked without it.

i have also been experiencing temporary moments of panic when...

 ...my thumb goes to twist it around my ring finger, like i do absentmindedly about a million times a day. but when all it finds is soft skin, instead of the hard metal the world all but almost ends.

...i wash my hands (i normally take my ring off and place it beside the sink, or hold it between my lips) and i can't find my ring to put it back on my finger.

... put lotion on my hands

.... use the hand sanitizer

... look down at my hand to stare at my ring (yes i still do that) and find it not there. that is normally when i proceed to go back through the lists of what i did that day, until i realize nope, it is at home on the dresser.

you get the idea

it has almost been two years, so i think i have done pretty good

well i guess tomorrow i am all the way back to day 1