Of Getting Angry, & Accepting That Some People Will Never Shut Up

Do you know that song by N*Sync, "It's gonna be me?" Well I've found a way to adapt that piece of cheesy 90s pop into an everyday mantra. Recently, I have been sucked into a series of ridiculous and all together pointless arguments with a multitude of people, over nothing. And I keep wondering why it is that they alway end up getting so ugly for no reason. Then I realize it's because I don't have a drink in my hand while I'm arguing. But mostly, I've come to realization that arguments continue because neither party is willing to just say, "You know what, this is stupid. Someone's gotta end this... guess it's gonna be me." And I've decided that it is... uh, going to be me. I will ignore obnoxious text messages spouting drunken buffoonery, and I will no longer indulge the contents of angry myspace messages by acknowledging the hatred in the words. And in the way of bettering myself, ignoring a few texts, and being less profane may not seem like a lot but it is. Trust me. Being less profane in anything is, for me, a fucking miracle, especially when I'm angry. And do you have any idea how hard it is to ignore any kind of text message?! It's easy to hit ignore when the wrong call comes in, but I have one of those wretched phones that displays a preview of text messages when they come in so I am forced to look at it whenever I flip my phone on... and the temptation is, more often than not, too much to resist. You try to act like you haven't seen it, but then, snatches of it start to creep into your mind. You get angry and start writing imaginary, though equally scathing replies, and then after a while, you fool yourself into believing that so & so really deserves this rather pertinent and well thought out piece of your mind. Before you know it, you have sent back a three part text message complete with angry emoticons and extra exclamations points, to really drive the point home. My little brother was watching some kid movie in my mom's SUV yesterday morning and one of the characters shouted "It's so hard to communicate without emoticons!!!" And I couldn't help thinking, by God he's right! Where would all of my Aim and Yahoo Messenger convos be without them? How could I properly display my wide range of emotions without the vast selections of emoticons in the sidebar? It's almost unthinkable. How, for example, could I convey my renewed affections for Joseph Gordon-Levitt were it not for the googly-eyed emoticon with the hearts popping out of her head? Speaking of Joseph Gordon-Levitt, I owe him a lot, I think. When I first saw him, on "Third Rock From the Sun", (which by the way remained my favorite television show for the better part of four years) it made me realize that Johnny Depp wasn't the only cute white guy in the world. There was, just to name a few Brad Pitt... Sean Lennon and of course JGL himself. That's 3 right there. He also helped me to rediscover the joy of indie films. They really are an untapped treasure. The other day, I came home and had a mini marathon and completey forgot about how much I still hate Charlotte Kemp Muhl for about 6 hours which is really something. Just picturing her lithe figure clinging to Sean Lennon in all his awesomeness makes me want to never eat another slice of cheesecake again, while simultaneously wondering how long I could make it in the frozen tundras after commiting capital murder. But of course I will eat cheesecake again. Tomorrow. But only because Auntie Ebony just made two of them last night and I paid for all the ingredients. Actually, I wouldn't be surprised if I didn't eat a whole cheesecake on my own in a corner while watching another mini marathon, this time of back episodes of "Third Rock From the Sun" so I can reminisce about what it was like to be young and enjoy the type of comedy usually reserved for varying classes of white people. Like, just to throw a name out there, Sarah Palin. Who, by the way, very obviously abused her gubernatorial power and acted on her family's grudge in firing her ex-brother-in-law's supervisor, it's finally official. And the real kicker here is that I'm almost certain that it won't make any fucking difference in the polls because, well, the general American public tend to be a bit idiotic. And we have the very useful gift of selective hearing. You know like how we heard what Jeremiah Wright said, but the words were somehow coming out of Barack Obama's mouth? Or that McCain is not raising anyone's taxes, but how he's taxing employee health benefits and giving tax breaks to big business, in hopes of seeing the "trickle-down" effect succeed, when we have surmounting evidence (i.e the current recession that is threatening to turn into a Depression if something doesn't turn around soon) that it typically, uhm what's the word, oh yeah, FAILS. But I mean look at it from his perspective though. He comes from a family of modest wealth, thanks in part to dedicated government and armed service, and his wife is heiress of Hensley & Co, one of the world's largest Anheuser-Busch beer distribution companies, on which she sits on the board as Chair. The words "recession" have little effect on people who can afford to keep three homes on every coast. But what am I saying? We're his fellow prisoners, right? So of course he sympathizes with our plight. Even though he's got the good life, right down to an endless supply of free beer, he can understand what we're going through. I bet he was just as pissed as I was when "Third Rock From the Sun" got canceled. And far be it for him to have watched the reruns that came on at least a good 3 hours after his usual 7pm bedtime. And he totally knows about struggling to pay bills because he's watched us do it on TV. Surely it can't be much different than that. Excepting of course, the fact that the actors portraying us own their own islands, it's pretty fair. I think. So I'm going to lay off McCain. Because, and this is small consolation, mind, but at the very least, if he dies within the average life-span of 75.4 years then we're shot of him in 3! And he's a good patriotic soul. He's gotta die when we expect him to. Wearing a flag-pin. While knocking back some Bud light. And maybe even about to tuck into to some good old fashioned apple pie. Now THAT'S American.

END.