Hey there loyal readers! Good to see you coming back to the ol’ blog and now I’ve completed my Journalism portfolio for all to see! Whew! Lotsa work man I’ll tell ya, and I have to admit, it really took me back to my newspaper reporter days when I would be doing just this sort of thing. *sniff*
Move your mouse above to the header entitled “Dawson Creek Daily News/Alaska Highway News Portfolio” for the latest additions. Wewt!
Ah well, when your body tells you to stop doing something because it becomes too stressful, one should probably listen. I mean hey, how long could I keep up the crazy-mad Journalist schedule of 12 hour days, 5 days a week, and then call-ins the other 2 days for up to 6 hours each?!? I mean, really?
Haaaaaaaaaaaaalp!!
And then, the chest pains came due to the stress I was experiencing… Oh God. Now THAT was scary. After having survived a myocardial infarction only 3 years previous to that in 2010, and to come so close to another one in 2013. Damn. That was the first time I had to use my Nitroglycerin spray to calm the fire within my chest. For those who don’t know about this crazy little bottle of stuff does, click the above link to BC’s Healthlink for a detailed description. Essentially, it’s a nitrate and it widens the arteries leading to your heart when you feel chest pains (angina). BUT, it’s major side effect is a CRAZY huge headache.
Anyhow, that wasn’t the only problem with being a small-town newspaper reporter. For those of you who have children of your own, and you have say 3 or 4 of them, now imagine you have approx. 30,000 children. Which happens to be the combined total populations of Dawson Creek, BC and Fort St. John, BC. As the regional reporter for the Peace Region, those two cities were included in that region, and writing articles for all of those people to read, it felt like I had THAT many children. And many of them would call me up on the phone, and bitch, whine, and complain that I hadn’t taken just the right photo, or called too much attention to THEIR dilemma which THEY called me up in the first place to help with, or I had interviewed THIS or THAT person instead of the people I chose. And on, and on, and on, and on. It was an endless stream of unappreciative bullshit from the most selfish buggers to ever walk the earth.
“I was trying to help you guys!”
FUCK.
And of course, if you’re like me, who only wanted to help and to gain the respect of the community, which I did with many, BUT, there were some who went ballistic on me for this or that reason, you have to stand back and say, is this worth the degradation to my health? But, the short answer to that question is, why didn’t you do this 20 years ago, right after High School like you should have? Well, that’s a great question to that question.
However, for those who are not aware, it is PDE 5 inhibitors, so it represses the movement of PDE 5 enzyme on the body and will help in making the blood flow normal to the penile tadalafil cialis india area. Erectile Dysfunction condition in man is the inability for attaining or maintaining a stiffer penile erection for having an amazing cheap viagra 100mg sex life. It makes a tadalafil tablets prices http://mouthsofthesouth.com/locations/page/48/ good number of people, even when they have the urge to increase their virility to think twice. Based on the previous study report, Kamagra at 50mg or 100mg helped approximately 4 out of 5 men to get and keep erections hard enough for pleasing lovemaking activities with their female order generic cialis partners. I should have. But at the time I was struggling with other stuff like, loss of direction in life, a pitiful childhood, a move out to godforsaken farm country in Chestermere away from my friends in the big city of Calgary, right in time for Grade 9, a decision of which I despise even to this day. I had friends and a job delivering The Calgary Herald newspaper to residents in Willow Park. A job I loved and would have moved up to something bigger within the newspaper organization itself had I not been ripped away from that life. That WAS my ticket into Journalism then, which WAS my plan to get into RIGHT AFTER high school. BUT, that plan was blown to smithereens with a fucking move out to godforsaken Chestermere. A stinking-like-shit-or-sulfur farm county 25 kilometers east of Calgary. Not exactly a place I could go back and forth to without a car at that young age… or parents willing to drive back and forth to several times a day to deliver newspapers or go to my old school.
So, I was stuck out in farm country, in the summer of 1989, with no job, no friends, and about to attend the local school, a VERY different public school away from my private RELIGIOUS school in Calgary. With kids that I likened to little savages with no moral code of any kind. What a wake-up call THAT was. Holy hell.
Chestermere’s evil kids. Everywhere.
That decision I had NO say in, a decision where mother-dearest said, “I want my piece of the world.” Her, “piece of the world”, our spread near Lake Chestermere, was 20 acres of Alfalfa Sprouts which sat there, year after year, doing nothing except growing on its own, with NO intervention from us. But that was mom’s “piece of the world”. And of course, my father being the supportive guy he was, was on board with this feather-brained idea of my mother’s, and off to Chestermere we moved. /facepalm.
Chestermere Lake. Once heralded by CTV News as being the most polluted lake in Alberta. The smell of either SHIT or rotten eggs in the outlying areas doesn’t help. Welcome to a farmer’s dream. Raw sewage from Calgary injected into the surrounding farmland every spring before seeding that acted as “compost” and “nutrients” for growing stuff. Yuk and damn!
Oh woe is me.
Anyways, there I go again regretting the past. I guess I can only hope that this life is salvageable for something grander than paying massive amounts of debt and worrying about the future. I guess I am thankful to have some good friends at work, (both jobs) and people I can rely on when times get tough when no one else (that you’d expect) would step in.
I am thankful for that. And The Good Lord Jesus’ love and grace.
Thank-you Jesus.