Concentration now begins

This weekend, I have the distinction of laying out the Northern Sentinel where I am working for the summer. It's Saturday, nearing noon and I have a long road and many miles ahead of me.
I have not layed down a paper before and even though I know I will get it done "because I have to," I am approaching it with hesitation. I have never been one who is inclined to work on the more technical or mechanical elements of any subject, task or job.
But I wanted to take this on because I think it will enhance my resume and hopefully make me more attractive to potential employers.
You know that I am delaying leaving when a regular season baseball game is appealing to me--not a "diss" on ball; just normally not much of a fan until post-season hits.
So, I have about to sips of coffee remaining and then I'm heading to the office to start.
I'll keep you posted as I attempt to get the job done and stave off insanity at the same time.

Hard to Explain

Sometimes, life's temporary setbacks are hard to explain. Oftentimes, any possibility to come up with a logical explanation is mind-numbing. And I find the frustration that comes from trying to make sense of why things play out differently than I had expected. I blame myself for many fo these "setbacks," which the more I think about - with a steely-eyed determination to fix what went wrong underlying my frustration - the angrier I get.

It's like my computer. I sat down to write about an hour ago and it's now 12:52 a.m. I was trying to fix a problem with my computer. I try, really I do but I am not technologically inclined/blessed. I'm the type of person that will pay to have his computer fixed rather than trying to save money by investigating and figuring out the problem on my own.
I was the kid who built models from the outside in; I lacked the patience to break apart the tiny, intricate plastic pieces, dot them with a needle head dab of glue and fasten them together. Inevitably, the glue found its way onto my fingertips and I would leave a rice paper thin layer of my skin on the each piece.
I was more into the aesthetics, the finished product. I would put on the decals first and hope that I could cram the "guts" of the model in at a later time. Whenever I finished a model, I had several leftover pieces.
Today, my desire to be able to fix things (such as computer problems) on my own hasn't subsided but that six-year-old kid in me doesn't have the patience to allow the adult in me to dig a little deeper or explore a little more to try to solve the problem on my own without throwing my hands up in frustration. Maybe it's just the way I'm wired. Maybe I'll live long enough to be able to accept what I can do and what I can't without feeling guilty about it.

Steal My Sunshine

In keeping with the weather theme that began yesterday, I thought I would offer my version of "steal my sunshine." It goes like this.
Spring in my part of the province is usually sandwiched between late March and early April. If you have the misfortune of living in another part of the country, you may have no idea what I mean. For example this year, I was basking in summertime conditions in mid-April (30 degree temperatures) while trying to finish my school assignments and somehow study for my finals.
Yet in the middle of one of the hottest springs I experienced in years - maybe the hottest - I felt depressed--not the "my-life-is-going-nowhere-I'm-all-alone-I-have-no-motivation" kind of depressed but a fearof the intense sunlight. (I am not an albino nor a vampire). My fear probably seems odd because most people love the sunshine and an early spring. I think my apprehensive feelings to bright and sunny days stems from a dark period in my life about eight years ago.
Everything I had put my security in was taken away from me. i was trying desperately to cling to an emotionally wrenching relationship with the mother of my two-year old daughter; I had no money; I could not find work and was taking odd jobs to pay bills; my dad had a heart attack earlier in the year. My self-esteem was taking a beating. Some friends could not relate to what I was going through while others just drifted away. Not their fault; it just happened. I know others have had it worse than I but to me, it was real and harsh and lasting.
But it was to that point, the darkest and most challenging time in my life. It occurred during March and April.
I guess the emotions I felt in the spring of 1997 were strong enough to create an association with that time of year and every spring I have to work my way through a valley of depressed feelings during a time when most are outside enjoying the warmth.
This year was no different; but seven years later I have learned that I must take that rough ride through the first two to four weeks of spring. I manage to break through and soon find myself relishing in the comfort of a long, summer day and warm summer evening.
I have to let the aftershocks of my own storm pass before I can see the rainbow.

Bring on the rain, the clouds and the blues

INTO OUR LIVES, A LITTLE RAIN WILL FALL

I sigh when I first hear the pitter patter of the sounds of rain droplets tap dancing on the roof of my car, but the noise acts as a cue for my emotions and I divert into a positive state of mind. Once I understood rain, I learnedto appreciate it. Rain is not an unwelcome visitor, intent on squelching out plans for a picnic, or a day at the beach, or even a good attitude; it reminds me that I am not alone. Rain clothes the earth in refreshment and nourishment, misting the grass, painting the leaves on the trees with a translucent residue and giving off a distinct and fragrant bouquet.

Inside every droplet of rain, energy is building, and like a time bomb, it tumbles from the sky, exploding on impact, dispersing among the billions of drops each rainfall brings forth. Occasionally, rain bursts from the mouth of a broken drainpipe that clings to the corner of a house. The drainpipe amplifies the downpour, enhancing the sound of the droplets from mild to menacing. Seeing rain fall sketches my mind with images of umbrellas, cooler temperatures and guilt-free afternoons spent indoors with no anxieties or obligations to a warm, sunny day.

Appreciating the rain is similar to growing in wisdom. Rain can be characterized as mature sunlight reflecting her beauty from the inside out. Rain nurtures us like a baby chick gathered under its mother's wings and soothes our false securities. Preceded by the rumble of thunder and the crackle of lightning, rain emerges with sincerity, from inside the clouds and makes a bold statement. And when rain falls, I listen; there is nothing I can do to suspend the outpouring of liquid emotions.

I embraced the rain in all its beauty, as the person who is thought a fool when they stand in the rain, fully-clothed, welcoming a downpour with open arms, singing. I spend time with rain, much like the couple who stroll under the cover of an umbrella while laughing and holding hands.

Even though rain is romantic and comforting, rain also takes on a mysterious and frustrating tone as well. The length of time of her visit is unknown. It could be here for a few minutes in the form of a brief, but intense downpour or continue for hours, overstaying its welcome like a door to door salesman; or like a flood it can be almost vindictive, extracting revenge on us in a constant surge of free-flowing water, flushing away all living things. When droplets touch down, a single drop of rain is a speck that is insignificant and overlooked. But, when these drops of rain converge the soil and the landscape remain forever affected.

Rain walks side by side with us through human inadequecies, enduring through trial, disappointment and challenge. Inside us, a skewed part of our being remains tucked away, until the rain comes calling. A shower of rain is a jolt into reality. That I would attempt to resist the rain reveals my need to allow it to run its course.

Upon rain, I place my expectations. Not too much and not too little, always expecting the perfect measure. In spite of its bad timing and irritating mannerisms, falling on even the most beautiful of days and from the bluest of skies. Rain's voice can be loud and volatile; but it is also soft, sensitive and comforting possessing a rhythm and eloquence that revives the body and refreshes the spirit.

Familiarity of a new surrounding

For a little under three weeks, a 200 square foot room is my temporary home. Techinically it's larger, about 300 square but I spend most of my time in the kitchen/living room area. I have very little furniture for one long, drawn-out reason; I didn't want to squeeze an excessive amount of stuff, most of which I will not use, into my car and cart it up to the northcoast of B.C.
Having a sparse amount of furniture adorning my apartment is more relaxing to my mind, as is living on my own--sans roommates. It's like a cleanser for my mind, a mind that all-too-often is preoccupied with thoughts of a past I cannot change and a future that is riddled with uncertainty, even one semester from graduating.
Sarah, if you are reading this, take comfort. You are the person who can pull me away from my self-indulging moods of frustration and doubt.
Celebrities and their prominence in the media raises the question: Why do so many people suffer from a fascination with celebrity and their daily lives?
I suppose the answer is subjective and I suppose an equal amount of people have more important things on their agendas, things that really matter. Yet, celebrity shows serving up the latest gossip on all aspects of celebrities' lives litter the TV, while magazines and tabloid newspapers account for most of the covers at grocery stores. I find that I am both repulsed by and drawn to celebrity infotainment. At times, I feel embarassed but I still find it interesting. It is a nice separation from the "heaviness" life can bring. But it is a reality that is far detached from any type of day-to-day that I will live.
And here is a splash of irony for you; everyday people who fascinated with celebrity someitmes wonder what it would be like to live in the shoes of a someone famous; those who are famous sometimes wonder what it would be like to live in the shoes of an everyday person. But right now, it seems that youth and celebrity are revered in a society that I can neither fully understand nor keep pace with. And we seem to want to make celebrities out of everyone. I figure in about 10 years, EVERYONE will be connected to some kind of reality TV show and we will all be playing Six Degrees of Separation in which all of us will be connectable to a celebrity in six steps

It's all in the mind

I watched I heart Huckabees today and I was expecting a little more from it than I got. But I like the idea of the plot which has fun with two ideologies: one that suggest we are all interconnected - from person to person to the world we live in to the universe - and back to ourselves; the second, to me, reeks of influence from Neitzsche to Neo-naziism, that is, nothing is permanent; everything is temporary, so why bother striving to achieve anything if it is merely a sort of an illusion?

Nuf said, I was thinking about Belinda Stronach's defection to the Liberal party--a surprise to all and no one was more shocked that Peter Mackay - Stronach's now former beau - that she left the Conservatives and him, three days before the budget vote--two for-the-price-of-one, an economic move if ever I saw one. In a brief interview, Mackay appeared stunned and dishevelled. "I never saw it coming," he said. I believe him. He has my sympathy. But really, and I know I'm not the only one, did you expect their relationship to last? It had makings of a celebrity type of buzz surrounding it, meaning it was destined to fall short. Now the two sit opposite each other in Parliament. Oh well, that could all change in about a year if Martin calls an election. Maybe there si something to everything being temporary?

jobs, jobs and more jobs

Got two e-mails in the last two days from school friends who just graduated from journalism school and have found jobs in the industry. I kind of envy them because I am returning this fall to pick up three classes to finish off my degree, and most of my friends will either have found jobs elsewhere or moved from Kamloops. I guess I'm a sentimetalist at heart but life goes on.

In the news. No, I am not going to comment on the budget vote--why? It's all over the TV. Newsworld is airing a special about violent young offenders such as gangs and the increase in crime in large cities. Surprising to me was that the city with the highest number of murders among all Canadian cities are Regina and Saskatoon--lots of gangs. It's happens though. A lady was murdered in one of the buildings on my street, might have been my building. Not sure.

One of my profs is big into criminals, particularly incarceration. Too bad our prison systems are overrun with people who, when they get out, will probably end up back inside.
Anyway, before I start to meander into more depressing territory, I'll stop writing and stop watching the news.
Becker's on. Like that Ted Danson, and Shawnee Smith, who, by the way, has her own band. Get back to you with name of it. Hope it's better than Tina Yothers band.

Take the long way home

I'm 1,200 kms from home working for the summer in Kitimat, B.C., and writing in a blog with a glass of red wine sounds like a good way to pass the time. Unsure how to approach blogging - kind of torn between stream of consciousness writing or posting something that is insightful and observant. Right now, it doesn't seem to matter. I keep wanting to glance over at the TV but it's kinda blurry. I finally came out of denial and got some glasses--that was less than three weeks ago so I'm still getting used to them. It's like discovering a new world, glasses make everything come alive--it's like I've discovered another dimension. Two things I hate about them though: One, they slip down my nose sometimes and two, they're a bitch to keep clean. Anyway, got to go, time for a refill.