yeah, where the heck am i?

not anywhere interesting.

i've been mindlessly shifting through house listings and spent a good part of yesterday at ikea where i indulged in both the gravelaxx AND the meatballs, and the day before that the kids were off school which meant the mac was booked all day and by the evening i was so sick of it's annoying incessant hum i couldn't bare to turn the thing on. i did succeed in buying a matress cover for my for eldest daughter who's bed is a peice of crap taken out of the basement of my dh's former employer, the origin of which no one can say for sure. i'd like to buy her a whole new bed but that is not only impossible but silly at the moment.

something odd happens to me when i go to ikea. or any other large commercial shopping space. i totally go glazed over and disoriented, get over-stimulated and shut down. sometimes i actually have to dash out of the mall without buying anything and come back later when i've chunked it all. not good for a professional shopper like myself. but i have learned to work around my hypersensitivity and ultimate loathing of materials management. it's an odd affliction as i am in the business of things. for me it's about painting a picture. i could give a rat's ass about labels and price tags. don't care. hate stuff. hate it. filling in the canvas, now that i like. i'll have this, and this, and this, and this...just don't bring me down or it'll start looking like stuff again. push pull push pull.

so with this in mind, i have been dreaming about what new existance i could define for myself. less shopping oriented. more about concept than leg work. more about craft than scamming deals. i only started it for survival's sake. something more pleasurable than buying screws and hauling wood and paint and plaster and tools in a filthy smelly hot truck with no balls. that was amusing for a year. nobody else got the feminist/anti-establishment fulmillment i at first did. they just saw some chick, always in a hurry, looking crazed with the stress of trying to feed the hungry puppies. always expendable. but it was a nice change from being barbie for redneck french tv. and i thought, a fun learning experience. a necessary infliction of physical cruelty intended to reap the full understanding of art department right from ground level. no elevator for this barbie. what i didn't realise is that when you can do something, that becomes what people call you for. don't need an elevator if you're gonna stay on ground floor anyway. yeah, you have an ability to draw and sculpt and paint and imagine and plan and scrounge, but we much prefer to send you out shopping because you do it fast and well. because you hate it. and because it fits in with the short 8-7 workday that a mommy can provide.

so, i was thinking a relocation would be a great way to redefine a whole lot of things. i've been looking at houses and trying to open my mind. because if you're not growing, you're dying. and i have been at a running stand still for way too long.

sorry but you asked.