I took the kids to see UP yesterday. Original, I know. I only saw about 47 people that I know at the theater. and I, because I am classy, walked out of the theater with popcorn stuck in my hoodie and mascara running down my face. yes. yes, I did. because I wept. I wept during the movie. I wept after the movie. I was so not expecting something that looks like this
to make me so emotional.
but, alas, blubbery popcorn-eating mess. BUT, take heed, GO AND SEE UP. you will not regret it. (on the scale of Cars to Nemo, it’s right up there in Nemo territory) It’s magic, and not just because Russell the chubby eight-year-old wilderness scout is so highly pocketable.
in other emotional news…
We are expecting an offer on our house today. And we are expecting the people who want to rent from us to give us the final “hells yeah, we want to rent your house for a year” which, of course, is the way it always is, yes? months of nothing. months of keeping my house lick-off-the-floor clean. months of strangers traipsing in and out. and yet. We are forced to make a choice. to rent. to sell. to rent. to sell. and, of course, the husband and I are each leaning a different way. if we sell, we are done with it. We take the money, we put it away, and when it’s time to move back, we buy a new house. it’s simple. it’s clean. it’s easy. BUT (and it’s a pretty big but) if the market were to pick up over the next year, we LOSE. it’s a gamble. If we rent, we have someone paying our mortgage for the year and then when we do sell it, we are selling and buying in the same market. It’s much less of a gamble, but it’s way more of a headache. I mean, RENTERS. lots of responsibility.
oh, and I won’t even tell you about possibly being homeless for most of July because you might then see me doing the ugly cry, and that’s, well, it’s just UGLY.
but you, like my kids, are probably all
SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT THE HOUSE ALREADY. only my kids wouldn’t be using the f-bomb, because if they were, they’d be going the way of the Ralphie…and nobody likes the way lifebuoy soap tastes.
but, yes, I realize I am very boring lately. It’s either “let’s talk about the half-marathon I – in a moment where I was probably having some sort of stroke or aneurysm – signed up to do” or “let’s talk about how my house is never going to sell.”
up next “let’s talk about how my kids only want to go swimming [talk to the hand, mom, and PUT US IN THE POOL! PUT US IN THE POOL!] because it’s JUNE, but they forget that it’s Toronto and today I am wearing a bloody sweater”
so, of course, we oblige.
(mostly so we don’t have to hear the chanting anymore…PUT US IN THE POOL! PUT US IN THE POOL!)
and take great pleasure in watching them freeze…