Nomad and pretty close to being a vagabond.

So, this is still actually a place. I figured facebook killed it like it did myspace among others.

According to my journal I haven't made a post since september of 2012. Hell of a lot of things happened. Most notable was the birth of our 5th child. Gemma Hermione Gibbons. She was born on april 10th 2013.

I graduated from the Tech school I was going to and obtained my Associates Degree.

Without delving in to any detail that pretty well catches up to the recent past.

The big changes for me, for us I guess was on the 15th of february I moved to Florida. Even now, after being here for 10 weeks or so I still can't state fully just what it means to me. I never thought in my life, being born in Canada that I'd make it here. Or anywhere that winter isn't a constant factor. This has been my fucking dream to state it lightly.

As per usual things got fucked up though. Due in most part to my poor planning I've run far short on the base necessities. Transferring my vehicle, thus making it actually legal was much more than I anticipated, the amount of money I'd need to keep afloat while looking for work while being hamstrung without a vehicle in a new area was sorely underestimated.

At this point I don't even know what to say. I've worried more or less constantly since the moment I've gotten here about employment. Feeling bad about my wife and children being in Pennsylvania until I could manage steady work and get a place of our own. When a setback hits I feel instantly consumed with guilt and talk to my wife saying I'll come back, that it's taking too long. I know in reality it's been 2.5 months but the memories of our immigration and the length of time it eventually spun out to be plays in my head a lot and is a huge factor in my behavior. We just had to draw the line somewhere. In my opinion we set it rediculously short. I didn't really think of the elapsed time, focusing on the time ahead. All these things combined have given an impression of flimflamming on staying or going back home.

I don't underestimate the situation at home. My wife is looking after 4 children by herself as well as 2 adults in the mix. Given how the house is set up the children are pretty well totally without routine or order and as a result are as unruly as hell. I hear about it and it compounds my feelings of guilt and I go right back to saying I'll come home. It's the only thing I can think of to say.

Thing is, I'm here. I'm finally fucking here. Something I never thought of as even a remote possibility of ever happening and I'm physically here. It's like 90% of the battle won. The idea of moving back, of failing to make this a success, of getting the rest of my family here with me, in this dream kind of physically sickens me. That's not hyperbole either, the thought of moving back north, facing the cold and winters that I detest and loath so much actually physically upsets my stomach and depresses me to the point that I could just end my life.

The best part, while being led by guilt I've asked family about cash for an exit strategy and in short my options are 1)get a job and move my family here. or 2)get a job and move the fuck back north. Either way I need a job first. The whole moving back home was because lack of employment in the entire 10 weeks of residence. But to leave I need employment thus negating the necessity for 2.

Fuck. Even writing about it makes me feel ill.

Dear Everyone:



C'mon people. He's 3 and playing hockey...

Sign up and vote. There's no registration email or any of that bullshit, it takes like 19 seconds and if the kid wins he gets an assload of hockey stuff.

Go vote. With every fake email address and username you can think of. As many times as you can.

DOOOOOOOO ITTTT. (Jane, feel free to use any Crosby icon you want :P)