I scream, You scream

Ireland has consumed my mind entirely.

Spring 2011 be ready, because here I come.

Quick Shout Out

It's not my style to do this, but I feel compelled to tell you while sitting three feet away from you that you matter. You too McDouble.

I've felt dead inside for a while now, years in fact, and I've been with the two of you for 15 hours now, had some uhhhhmazing food, and even better conversation, and I suddenly realize again what it means to be alive. Something about you stirs up my passion. Passion to talk, to breathe, to love, to live.

I know that I'll most likely revert back to the same feelings not long after returning to Flag, but this, us, all of us right now; it's the chicken noodle soup to my soul.

Thank you is not enough.

Flowers are good for the soul

I received these flowers 5 days ago. From a boy. I don't really know how I feel about this boy, but I do know that these are the most beautiful flowers I have ever been given. Does that make me a sell-out? Maybe just a little bit? I don't know. All I do know is that I'm sitting here trying to work on a take-home test and I get a whiff of these flowers (particularly the Lilies) every few minutes or so, and it's so intoxicating. I smile without really knowing why. Don't tell me it's the boy, because it's not. He confuses me. Who am I kidding, I confuse me. But what I have decided is that flowers do wonders for your mood. Ahhh...I just got another whiff, and I feel like I could accomplish almost anything right now.

Boys = Confusing

Myself = Suchhh a confusing shit show.

Flowers = FANTASTIC

Take it from the dogs.

Why is it that when we enter any given emotional state we have a tendency to feed that emotion? Especially the negative ones.

We feed the dog that is with us whether it be anger, sadness or happiness...

So I guess you should try and take care of the dog you feed, because the one you feed the most is the one that will remain the most loyal to you.

Trust me.

Why Not?

There's so much controversy today about whether Obama should have or shouldn't have won the Nobel Peace Prize. Well, he did and what I ask is "Why not?"

Here, finally, was an American President--a Christian, but with a Muslim name, from a Muslim family--willing to speak in a Muslim country in order to both acknowledge injustices done to them and demand a higher moral standard in their behavior towards Israel and the West.

Yes, the United States is still waging war in two Muslim countries and with the return of Benjamin Netanyahu in Israel and the willingness of Iran to use Palestinian terror groups as proxies for their agenda, peace in Israel seems as distant as ever.

But Obama's speech--Obama's election itself--marked an end to days in which average Muslims could embrace a Manichean vision of Muslims inexorably opposed to the United States.

No wonder that extremists--American conservatives and the Taliban--are immediately reacting violently to the announcement that President Obama is the newest Nobel Laureate. They need each other. They need the conflict. No wonder they hate Obama--a guy whose life is dedicated to lowering the temperature.

Conservatives are already sneering that Obama shares the prize with President Woodrow Wilson, a notorious idealist. They forget that Obama also shares the prize with Henry Kissinger, a notorious realist. Obama represents the best of both of those traditions: idealist in his dreams and aspirations for the world, pragmatic and realistic in his actions and his goals.

Obama is a President who seeks to end our wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, but has been more aggressive in the use of Predator drones to hunt down and kill terrorists than the previous administration. There's no contradiction there.

The Nobel Committee's decision is a statement: the future belongs to the dreamers of pragmatic dreams.

The future belongs to us.

Where's that tunnel?

Okay blog. I've danced around for far too long now, but enough is enough. It's time to get down to business. I want to try my hardest to write to you every day for the next month, but let's face it; I'd be ecstatic for once a week.

Here goes:

Who's there?

Not me, I'm sure. I don't remember the last time I was. And I know that the people around me notice. For so long now I've asked myself, "Well what's wrong with being in a rut? What's the big deal if I'm just being?" Those used to be justifications. Now they just scare me. Worry me.

How long will it be this time? The last was about 5 months.

Right now: 2 weeks and counting.