channeling anger

People have told me the best way to deal with anger is to not succumb to it, not to feed into it. Just channel it into something, anything positive. Some people work out, some meditate. These words are my attempt.

These are the things that piss me off: Passive aggressive assholes who can't talk about what's bothering them, instead--they let their anger build up and when you're not around write a letter to your boss behind your back, trying to get you in trouble. I'm pissed at people who act like they are doing something for the good of others--but really they want something in return. Selfish Fucks. It is the exception to be anything different. Everyone's out for themselves-maybe if I joined suit, I wouldn't have anything to be angry about.

I'm pissed about the next generation and how kids are addicted to video games and how their parents are just as addicted to the time away from their kids. We are raising a culture of anti-social morons that are going to be adults very soon, and we should all be pissed about this.

I can find a hundred things to be pissed about, but I'm mostly pissed that as I get older I have less fun and am pissed all of the time. I suppose I can choose to not be angry, but then I'm just ignorant and selfish like the rest of them. Being young and blissfully dumb was great, I was just too dumb to know it.

The Neighbor Girl

Brandon and I bought a house on the Walton's block of Albuquerque. I think we are the only people in a 5 mile radius without a kid. I've had more pressure by neighbors to have a baby in the three weeks we've lived here than the entire five years we've been married. With all the kids and baby's around we were worried that we'd get noise complaints from Brandon's drum playing. The first and only complaint came from Emma, the 6 year old neighbor girl. She saw me in the yard one morning and barged over to me hands on her hips and said "when you play your radio that loud-my baby brother can't sleep!" Her mom came running behind her and clasped her hand over Emma's little mouth just a little too late. I got the distinct feeling that was not the first time she'd tried to block the floodgate. "No, no-it's fine, the music doesn't bother us."

I've only known Emma briefly, yet I could write all night about her ability to say the first thing that comes to her mind and her unapologetic attitude. Like the time she told me "thanks for having me over-I know I'll always be welcome." or the time asked for candy and told me her mom wouldn't mind only to tell me a few moments later with a mouth full of candy-"Don't tell my mom or we'll BOTH be in trouble."

Perhaps the funniest story about Emma so far happened yesterday when we pulled up to our house to find Emma sitting in a miniature lawn chair, legs crossed, palms facing the sky, thumb and forefinger in the shape of an "O", eyes closed and chanting-with a soccer trophy in her lap.

Brandon slowly pulled up to the curb, rolled down the window and waited to see how long it would take her to notice us. He finally gives up and interrupting her concentration says "Hi Emma, what are you doing?" she irritably replies "Oh, hi Brandon-I'm Me-di-ta-ting, can't you tell?" "We just lost our soccer game but we got a trophy anyway and I'm upset and I'm nervous because Lily is coming over for a play date and she's never been over before and I'm nervous because I don't know how it's going to go because she's never been over before so I'm
Me-di-ta-ting, okay?"

Just when you thought kids don't have problems.

Inquiring minds

Helping Dr. Alarid move his things out of the home he inherited and we were about to buy we found this letter, addressed to his daughter:

2/4/1980

Dear Rachel,
President Carter has asked me to thank you for your nice letter.
You want to know why there is no Children's Day, when there is a Mother's Day and a Father's Day?
The President works hard to help make this county a good place for mothers and fathers to bring up their children. He hopes that every day is Children's Day!
Also, he thanks you for being his friend.

Dan Chew
Director of Presidential Correspondence