Previous post from Wednesday, July 18, 2012
There's been a heat/humidity wave in Southern Ontario. A direct result of this is my morphing into the biggest belligerent bitchy bitch in several galaxies. (I think there's a multi-breasted female in Galaxy NGC 1512 that could give me a run for my money, but really with 22 breasts and a fashion history in her neck of the woods that hasn't allowed for brassieres, you could fully understand her bitchiness.)
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| Home to the Papilla-Multi-Praeclarus People - a shout out to Big Bessie! (From HubbleSite) |
My period is due any day as well. And not to become a cliched 'female' type who blames moods on her hormonal cycle, but WHAT THE POOH DUDE?!? It's like I'm losing my mind a little bit more every day. And I KNOW that I am, and I'm freaking helpless to stop the journey into The Hell of Irrationality.
Yesterday, I burst into tears when David asked me to go down to the beach. I knew that I should get out of our stifling house, but also knew that I would then have to attempt to thrust my clammy sweaty body into a bathing suit. (sidebar - I'm NOT a beach person to begin with. I burn very easily, even with sunblock 9000 on, and I don't like getting wet.)
Sniffing back tears, I went upstairs and started the process. I stripped off my now-sodden cotton clothing and then forced my sticky flesh into my one-piece bathing suit. In retrospect, I could have put on my impetuously purchased pin-up girl bikini, (Rissa said "Mummy it looks GREAT!) but my mind was WAY skewed to self-loathing at this point, and no way was my fish-belly white stomach going to be put on view for Victoria Beach. Instead, I opted for the one piece with attending melon-coloured overskirt. Imagine if you will - a sausage casing trying to accommodate way too many fleshy bits. Still in too precarious an emotional state, crying behind my half closed door, I could not see the humour in the situation. NOW - this morning I do, but last evening at 4:42 p.m. NOTHING WAS FUNNY.
Determined not to give in to the hormones, I waded into Lake Ontario. I was going to be the well-adjusted wife and mother. I was going to participate in a family activity. It was cold. Not just a little bit cold - but the kind of cold where men's testicles crawl back up into their body cavities - or so David told me. My legs ached from the temperature. But I persevered. I was in the water and I was wet and I was almost enjoying myself. After about 30 seconds in the water, David looked over at me. "Your lips are blue." "Probably," I answered. It was invigorating though. The surf was all wavy which is a lot fun - even in hypothermic water temperatures. After about 3.5 minutes David made me leave the water. I was okay to stay and be wet even, but I guess my colour looked a little off and I was all goose-pimply and shivery and I didn't have the presence of mind to lie when he asked "Are you having chest pain?" "Just a, uh, little bit." If I were more petite, he would have scooped me up into his arms in a romantic gesture and carried me to the beach. As it was, he threw an arm around my waist and dragged me out, wrapped me in a towel and told me to stay put while he went back in to make sure that Rissa and her friend didn't drown in the waves.
There I was on the beach - in 30+ degree heat and sun, clutching my white terry towel around me, teeth chattering. He had been right. It was good to get out of the house. I was no longer hot. My mood was vastly improved. A brush with death will do that for a girl.
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