return of the extra long post: don't look back in anger (oh heck, why not)

We have been at my parent's house since last Wednesday.  Whenever I come back, I dig through the old albums.  I want to ship them all to Toronto but it would be one more huge pile of stuff that would become more of a burden than a joy since I have no where to keep them in our tiny apartment.  So here they stay in my parent's basement until I can give them a proper home.  Let's hope my mom doesn't realize they are still here and go all purgy on me.

Anyhow, I tripped across The Boomtown Rats' I Don't like Mondays.  Way back in 1979 this was the best intro I had ever heard for a song (soon to be dethroned by Train in Vain) and I was instantly hooked at the wee age of ten.

*sigh* I wish I had a turntable to spin all my 45s on, just so I could go back in time for two minute increments.  Two minutes is better than none.

But that's not what I set out to talk about tonight.  I came to talk about strong emotions.  In this case: anger.

Some things shouldn't be done when I'm angry.  For instance, I have a personal rule that as a couple, SB and I should not go to bed angry.  I read that pithy statement in some relationship counselling guide and it stuck.  Why would I be reading guides and tomes on relationship counselling? Is my marriage suffering?  No, not one lick or cuddle - my marriage is great but thank you for your concern.  But why would I be reading marriage counselling 101 books?  Well one does these things when toying with training to be a relationship counsellor.

Hilarious, I know: Imagine me being a counsellor.  But ten years ago, it was one of the avenues my education offered so I looked into it.  So yes, imagine me as a marriage counsellor.

Hell, I'd drive the divorce rate up, that much I know.  Relationships can be so unhealthy, so full of malignancy that I'm sure I'd advise more than average, to cut the cancer out and be done with it.  I'd be all pronounce-y and say something like "why not loose that [insert spousal weight here] pound tumour you have attached to you by a piece a paper, and start fresh?"

Actually, I wish people had to do more for a marriage license than declare they are single and not Charles Manson.  I think there should be a test.  Something akin to being dropped into Jurassic Park while chained together, slathered in steak sauce, and the only way you can survive is with a little thing called cooperation and brains.  If you die, well one less marriage or divorce for the courts to process.

You wouldn't want to live in my world, would you?

ANYHOW - I'm once again off topic - sorta.

Back up to not going to bed angry.  Another thing I know I should not do when angry, is blog.  So I've been quiet lately and that has been a good thing for everyone involved.  And don't worry, I'm not mad at you (like you were worried gentle reader), it's just I've been angry at myself for regressing in my personal pledges.

[cue violins]

You see, years ago I felt miserable most of the time because I surrounded myself with unhealthy relationships - I can't bare to call them friendships.  Then I had a V8 moment and realized that these people had no respect for me, so I obviously had no respect for myself and I cut the fat and quickly felt better about everything, including myself.  It's not really rocket science, yet it took way too long to figure out.  I swore it wouldn't happen again.  But obviously it did.

So this past weekend, after talking with friends who I love, respect, and adore, I found my focus again, and started to trim the fat and purge the unhealthy relationships of my life.  And the reason I felt the need to blog about this seemingly self-centred and boring topic, is this: I geniunely like 99.6% of my readers (all four of you that aren't family, though I must admit I kept the family members in that statistic to boost the percentages, something my stats profs would curse me out for doing because OMG I'm skewing the stats.  Did I ever tell you that stats make me kind of horny?  Seriously I love statistics and rocked them in university like an air guitar. I'm a sick, sick woman.  And truthfully, my prof from stats 2080 for medical professionals would probably high-five my skewing of the stats because that's how you get a job at the major corporations, don'tcha know).

Oh I'm so off topic now... backing up... horny, stats, reader love *screech* yes that's where I was:

I like you and may I be so bold to suggest you do the same kind of relationship purge if you are feeling bogged down.  Examine those you allow to orbit in your universe.  Are they using you? Do they respect you? Why are they part of your life?  And then pull yourself up and say I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and... oh screw that crap: respect me or get the hell out.

That felt good.

Back to regular programming soon.