Not a Trip Blog. Rebooting.

"YOU have a problem with unexpressed anger. Come on! Get angry, Annie!"

(I didn't know for a really long time that that was Marcia Gay Harden.)

So I tend to go off on rants about random things at random times, but the thing is, I'm not really that angry. Angry happens when I see some serious injustice. Angry happens when I think about my grandmother's illness and subsequent passing. Angry happens when people I trust are being two-faced about someone whom I care about.

It is not really often that I get angry about something hideous that happens to me. In fact, it really takes a lot, and a lot of time, and a lot of time for me to think about it, for me to even realise how off-pissed I am about anything. So when I do get off-pissed, it is a really huge thing that sometimes takes weeks to get over, but I think I've discovered that the reason for THAT is that I do not get it all out of me at once because I am marinating on it to make sure that I really am mad.

I am fine now, but it is a very, very good thing that Whitney and Amber (bless them) were available for ranting night before last (evening for you people) or serious hideousness may have occurred.

This summer has been a weird one. There is a GREAT wealth of good that has come out of it (beginning with an A and ending with an R, likes birds and Guitar Hero), and a lot of really weird crap. And yes, I write crap in an incredibly scholarly and intelligent manner, herein. However, I do think that in this being a weird summer I have managed to eliminate a lot of the sources of drama from my life, and will now be able to focus rather on school.

Which is good, because this is going to be quite the hectic semester with applying to grad school and doing all the stuff to make sure that I actually graduate from undergrad within the next geologic age. I had a point.

Oh, I think it's that, sort of like Annie Paradis, I have a problem with unexpressed anger. When something vaguely annoys me, I just let it go, i.e. 90 percent of grocery store visits that take place prior to midnight. I know what I'm in for; it's annoying, but whatever. The other ten percent usually pass into moderately annoying, and so I tell James a mildly entertaining story about whatever it was and then move on. George Bush (actually, the government on general principles; my view of Bush has evolved to the point of "Poor George; he can't help he was born with a silver foot in his mouth") et al range from extremely annoying to rather bloody irritating, and so political rants happen.

So I get it out, and it does not ruin my day, my hair, my attitude -or- my bread. But when I actually cross the threshold into angry, seriously angry, I cannot get it out of me, except in small bursts of flame-throwing, but those are never effective on account of the the fire does not get put out. So it sits around burning me up, causing me to bake bland and crunchy bread, and just generally throwing off my concentration.

I'm not sure if this is a patently immature way of dealing with stuff because I do think it is better than flying off that handle at the target of my anger/disgust without thinking things through, first, but I also dislike carrying it around with me for the weeks it takes me to ponder the issue.

Thus, as I said, I think the only real solution is to eliminate all of the sources of drama from my life. This is not to say that if someone has something hideous happen to them that they are expelled from my hemisphere; quite the opposite. But I do believe that from now on if I notice that someone keeps having hideous things happen to them repeatedly and a) does nothing about it, b) is all helpless and annoying about it, or c) seems to vaguely revel in it, they are getting the boot.

I enjoy being happy. I do not enjoy harbouring anger; I feel comfortable with this plan of action. Being able to focus on the elements of one's life which are positive and important is always a good thing, I think.