Tuesday, March 16, 2010


So remember back when I posted about holding onto my anger?

Of course you don't, read it here (If you'd like).

So in the midst, of finals, I have to say: I AM PISSED OFF.

Now, in my past post I mentioned how I glorious it was to be fueled on a sort of anger that I had harnessed into a mechanism of productivity. THIS time, this anger is a machine of pure and utter madness. Obviously, I thought I should hop on the Internet and explain why I find this current state of haphazard emotion particularly luxurious.

When a woman like myself reacts, as I shall term the euphemism, it is (unless you are the male counterpart) quite a magnificent thing to witness. For instance, as I boiled and steamed pacing my room, a Lady Gaga song came on my Pandora radio. Nobody could have (or would want to) seen those moves coming. Also, when I went to brush my teeth I squeezed the toothpaste very tightly. As in I now have Crest Nighttime White all over my sink. My hand is minty fresh.

I also re-Raided my entire room. I was furious! And now the queen of the ant colony is too, because all her knights in shining armor are KAPUT. Now, nearing death by pesticide asphyxiation, my rage has subdued to the point of reflection.

It just gets me all twisty in the knickers when the first reaction is the wrong one. I understand that it is usually the "irrational"and "dramatic", but then it seems like everyday is a constant battle to essentially subdue yourself. Sometimes I really feel kindred with the people go to communes or become hermits. But even then! Let's postulate that its just a normal day at the commune and you're weeding the carrot garden and fellow inhabitor Bluelight Skyhawk tells you that row 5 isn't properly weeded. You've just spent the morning doing meditation and are really exhausted from accessing your 4th chakra; as you yank row 5's leafy green weeds up from the ground tell me you wouldn't be horribly tempted to mutter, "What the fuck kind of name is Blue Light Skyhawk anyway."

It is unfortunate that I feel this way also because I often employ the term "please code your language" or the exxxxtrememly annoying "consider your audience" whenever I have a disagreement with a person (cough boyfriend cough). I often discuss with my mother about how important it is to pick your words if you are truly serious about getting your point across. That is, reiterating what you really want to say in careful and sophisticated language as to not incite reaction but rather understanding.

So nowwww, when what I really want to do is throw a a small coffee table off the beach cliff across my street and lip sync "You're so Vain" in a black catsuit while pie-ing somebody in the face, I am eating my words!

Uch, they taste like Raid.

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