This time it's left at the sheep...seriously.

I like that people bug me to blog, but, as I’ve said, I have nothing to say. Bit of a conundrum for a writer. Boredom example: I got lost driving around the featureless countryside and it was one of the most exciting events in weeks. Any change in routine. It was another of those directions, “left, right, left, right, sheep.” This is not meant to impugn the guys on the other end, just an example of what a different world I’m in. I’m sure if they weren’t so nice they’d be saying: ‘what a freakin idiot, he can’t even follow simple directions.’

Verbatim: “After you turn off the highway (on the expansive 1 mile prairie grid) just take the first left, then a right, then a left, then a left and we’re on the left, you’ll see the brown house with the sheep in the yard.”

“Um…OK,” I said, “but being new to the area…is there a house number or a road name I can look for?”

“No, I don’t think so…I think it might be…? I’m not sure but it’s just past Bushwell’s shop.”

Of course nobody forced me to rush out the door without confirming the directions with someone in the office. I didn’t realise he was counting the turn off the highway as the first left and ended up 26 km off course by the time I was certain and turned back.

I really do like the old farmer guys though, I’m not being nice. There are a lot of people I dislike here but the farmer types I’ve met are always insanely hard working, down to earth, sharp old guys with good senses of humour and often a dead on, if simplistic, perspective on the world that I’m sure I could learn a lot from if I took more time.

Speaking of responses (at the start) how can you not like a comment like Jen’s? Nuthin like that to get my ass motivated to write. I was also complemented on the comedy of errors my blog has become, “it’s hilarious, just one bad thing after the other,” said a certain Polish j-student, who shall remain nameless to protect the Kinga. I took it as the complement I think it was meant as. Hours later I realised: hey, that’s my life that’s so comical!

Sometimes I feel guilty complaining. I have a job, many can’t say that. I’ve never had a 20% pay cut forced on me, like some friends. But I seriously think this place will drive me insane. I get visions of The Shining. I’ve been very conservative in terms of slamming things here because I don’t blame the people and place as much as my choice to come, plus I don’t want to be libellous. But I care less and less. I can’t find a way out and I find myself hoping I’ll get fired, to force the issue.

The latest twist is people seeking me out to tell me offensive racists, right wing jokes and stories about my idiotic, backward, leftist, dirty, hippie home. And this from people who keep electing Ralph Klein, trying to dismantle Healthcare and now drive THE largest vehicles of any society in history. Yeah, I’m out to lunch. I suppose it’s Karma considering the bitching I do. In my defence I’m the odd one out, what are they complaining about? They’re home; surrounded by the people they want to be surrounded by.

I’ve been given permission to write opinion pieces after months of asking, only to realise, to my horror, there is no way I can publish any of my actual opinions here without being lynched. Or at the very least making enemies I simply cannot afford to make.

I got into a rather heated argument the other day with someone who believes Bush is a smart guy and a great and heroic leader for his successful war on terrorism. How do you argue with that? I fought hard at first until I realised it is simply much too large a chasm to argue across.