Love your neighbour.

Sometimes I open my mouth wider than I should. Out pops things that are better kept to myself. Like right now, I am this close to going out on my step and yelling profanities at the top my lungs. Why do you ask? Because these stupid kids next door, and their stupid friends are running around MY house screaming at the top of their lungs.

Usually I try not let things like that bother me, it seems petty. But when I am raging with a headache, and upset because the blogging world is down, it seems like an enormous problem.

These kids are obviously not the picks of the litter. One of them has "crack head" written on his skate board (they range in ages 8-11). When I saw this I felt like going up to him, yelling in his face "Do you even know what crack is?!" But I didn't, because anger fits never solved anything.

And I realize some of these kids might have bad homes or something along those lines, creating a dysfunctional child. But for the most part I know this is not the case. Two of them have teachers for parents, another has a hairdresser and insurance salesman. So what's the problem here?

I so, at this point in my blogging entry, want to rage on about the effects of television and other specific things, and how they effect the mind of a child. But I won't.

Ugh. One of them just yelled "He said it! He said that you two were gay!" Was I like this as a child? I definitely didn't know what gay meant at that age. I give props to Dee-Dee right now, who lives up my street and whose house I went to everyday to play with her kids. Better yet, I'm sending out props to Ray, her neighbour. If he had to put up with what I am putting up with at this moment and never once complained, he's a better person than I'll ever be.