Anger. To be honest, I've never really felt it before. Everyone time I've felt the slightest inclination to let a swell of furious rage loose from within, there's always been some 'level-headed' onlooker to call me back to that bitter sweet rationale. Even when I find myself alone, I can never allow a full fledged fit of anger to come into complete fruition. Is it because I'm a good person? No. Is it because I know better? Nope. I realize today it is because I am a fearful person. Someone who anticipates the worst, structures herself upon what the world dictates her deporment should be and screams in silence while the gates closes faster and faster.
I seem to be consistently surrounded by people who have no remorse in expressing what they feel, when they feel it. Truthfully, it can drudge up chords of resentment and bitterness within me that challenges my very ability to breathe... but why? Well, perhaps it's just because there will ALWAYS be something to complain about. The human psyche can create a barren, hell-scorched wasteland out of any luscious, bountiful valley. If I were so disposed, I guarantee I could give anyone a run for their money in the pissing and moaning department. But what good does it do? All it really does is birth and nurture aversion.
Attitude. Faith. Hope. Without sincerity in any of these things, life becomes more and more about merely surviving than experiencing. Life can really suck, and guess what... everybody knows that. More importantly, you're life does not suck. Sorry to be the one to tell you that, but it's the truth. Stages of life will gravitate us to poles of prosperity and poles of grief and despair; no matter where you are, there are a million people worse off than you and a million people better off. The trick: don't compare yourself to anyone but yourself. Don't immitate or worship imperfect measures. Keep your focus fixed on what really matters to you and how you can use this day to take one more step to realizing the 'who' you want to be.

You may think that it's sad looking at the office supplies on your desk and wondering which would win in a fight - but not as sad as realizing that this isn't the first time you've thought about this.
The weather is warm, the trees are green and the squat house beside my apartment building is spewing out its inhabitants even later into the night. Thankfully, they never seem to tire of professing in the piercing tones of their eloquent drunken dialect the love or derision they feel for one another.
Aside from the tell-tale signs of spring, there has been another blessed event of wonderment which has touched down on the tarmac of my aspirations. On June 3rd I took part in the age-old, Alberta right of passage... branding.
It was glorious; I thought that my general maternal, nurturing instincts would kick in and swell me with pity for these sweet creatures and their plight. I guess the ration outweighed the hippy, over-sensitive side of my id, and all was well. The weather was pretty chilly and wet, which made the pen we worked in a gumbo of mud, blood and feces. I won't give myself undue credit and say I was a natural, but I held my own and I have no qualms saying so. I tackled, I held, I pulled - those calves were in good hands, let me just reassure you of that.
I was amazed at how quick the whole process was; especially the castration - I would've though that would be the most painful (second to the branding of course). But nay, it didn't seem to inflict much discomfort, although I can't speak for the men doing it.
Overall, it was a very memoriable experience. The only cloud over my success in becoming an official "citiot" brander would be the harassing texts and calls that streamed in after I decided to share my day on facebook. While I can't express total gratitude for psychopaths now (being still involved in an altercation with one), I sure am glad they're around to keep things spicy and remind me that as much as I'd like to change about myself - saints be praised him not THAT far gone.

I think I could hear my unborn children crying in between the Democrat's Pavlovian dog-like standing ovations last night.
Now don't get me wrong, I think that President Obama is a great man. As much harping I stand to take for that statement alone, I really do think that he has the right attitude to make some real changes. The focus and the direction that he's been able to maintain despite the conditions of the union when he took office.
A lot of his points last night I thought were brilliantly articulated and extremely poignant. I appreciated his call to both Republican and Democrat alike to abandon the partisan thinking that keeps anything from getting done, and work to restore public faith in government.
His focus on economic infrastructure, mainly in stronger support for small business and fewer tax cuts for the super rich, is the only solution where they're concerned. Too bad the U.S. can't work up the moxie to ban Wal-Mart like Germany - that deficit would melt away like the pounds of their patrons. I do find it interesting that he's choosing to "reinvest" 30 billion of the bailout return back into these small business initiatives. So, that's 30 billion of the money that you didn't even have to start with - correct?
All the items covered in the address, from health care, to national defense to education, sat well enough with me... until
Iraq. Oh sweet goodness. I wanted to cry. All combat troops out by August. That's like bringing your son home from rehab, going and hanging a big sign in the red light district with your son's name, address, phone number and list of drugs of choice. COME ON! Look, I'm not an idiot, I knew that this would happen eventually - but I guess I just hoped there would be a bit more time. Vietnam revisited I suppose. I'm happy that American soldiers get to come home and be reunited with their families - but my heart aches for those families who have stood beside the Americans in Iraq. There are some dark months ahead.
I guess that about covers the bulk of the State of my Opinions on the State of the Union. Other than the Republican in the orange tie who never showed any emotion and had his fingers pursed together like Dr. Claw - I wanna party with that dude.

15 Days
Darlene Etienne survived the aftermath of the Haiti earthquake trapped under the rubble by drinking bath water, for 15 days. 5 days after the search for survivors had been called off, and the death toll had risen to an imcomprehensible 200,000, this incredible 16 year old girl was pulled out alive from the remains of her school. Dehydrated to the brink of death, this frail, weak frame drew from her last parcel of strength the power to say the words "thank-you"

And here I am wondering if I'll be able to stay off Facebook for two weeks.

We really have no idea how blessed we are, and how much responsibility we have to lift up the heads the hang low. To brighten the eyes glazed with burden and despair. Even in my darkest moments, I could not conjour the courage and will of this 16 year old girl. Temporally, we are wealthier than society lets us think we are - but morally, we are leagues behind the curve.