This may seem strange to you, this declaration, but really, the more I think about it the more traumatic it would be. Bears seem so cuddly and befuddled. I mean, sure they have a lot of teeth, and certainly they're big, but -- they have all that excess skin and fur, and those big arms and they amble all along clumsily because they're bears. I think that if I was attacked by a bear I'd never trust anything again.
As bad as days get, sometimes, at least I've got this: I have never been attacked by a bear, and I'm damn proud.
Other things that I have to be thankful of:
I'm not being chased by a crazy Texan wearing my boyfriend's face, ala Texas Chainsaw Massacre.
I've never had my teeth pulled out while I'm still conscious.
I am not dying of diarrhea.
I have never been forced to wear an Elizabethan ruff.
My feet have not been bound.
I've never eaten a bad egg.
I am not covered with live rats right now.
I have never been sentenced to the death of a thousand cuts.
I will never be kicked in the balls, because I don't have balls.
My father isn't a sociopathic megalomaniac with a messiah complex.
I've never lost a year of my life due to amnesia.
I am not the enemy of the Dark Lord.
A child has never burst fully formed from my calf OR my skull.
I have never had sex with a bull and given birth to a minotaur.
These are the things that give you perspective.