I'm So Great: The Rantings of a Jaded Youth

When I grow up, I want to be just like me.

Post Attempt Two – Electric Boogaloo. February 27, 2010

So I was trying to make a post earlier about how I got into a nerdy horror movie conversation with everyone in line at the grocery store today but I did something dumb and it all got deleted, enraging me, and I would like to talk about how I am full of rage.  It’s weird because I’m a pretty happy person.  I (now) live in a clean, not hazardous apartment, have a steady paycheck, and a loving boyfriend, but I still have room to be full of rage about just about everything.  Today, I flipped a guy off while driving to work and while we were stopped at a red light, I realized he’s one of my coworkers and we were going to the same place.  He didn’t even realize I’d done it until I laughed while we were getting out of our cars and asked him if he noticed.

I’m enraged by the silliest things though and I have the same amount of rage for silly things as I have for really personal things.  I think it might be that I was raised on the internet.  The internet has conditioned me to feel hard and then get over it in a matter of seconds.  “I just lost the game?!  Fuck you, /b/!  Ooo, new Zone.  GODDAMNIT, this is lolicatgirls again! I’m playing the game.”  I get so mad every time I see an Oprah magazine.  Why don’t I have a magazine that is not only named after me, but has a picture of me looking cute on the cover of every issue?  Something must be done!

All day long at work I’m alternately enraged and delighted.  Car full of girls pulls up shouting my name.  Delighted.  Someone calls me a retard.  Enraged.  Someone brings me cake.  Delighted.  Someone yells at me because my boss is never in when he’s supposed to.  Enraged.  The only time I’ve ever seen another person mood swing so fast was when Dan Abrams was covering both a child murder and a child being found after being lost in the woods for days.  I swear to god he was alternately jumping out of his seat and crying.  Speaking of Dan Abrams, I asked him to my senior prom and he said no on the air.  Score!

In short, fuck you, Oprah.

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