A rant about writing rants.

So, for this assignment as you all know (assuming no one outside of my class read this) we had to write rants. I have sat down many times to write this and after hours of thinking, typing out ideas and thoroughly exercising my right to push the backspace button I have come to the conclusion that I just don't hate anything enough to type an entire spiel about it. And you know what? It's FRUSTRATING. It's not only frustrating that I can't think of anything to write, but also this assignment in general. On my quest to becoming a better human being, I made the executive decision to not complain about things and take life as it comes at me. I don't like the idea of getting worked up over something that doesn't matter and therefore, I don't have much to talk about here, except for how angry I got while trying to write this. And when I say angry I mean angry.

 I usually don't have trouble writing, I think of an idea, I write it down and then expand on my idea and I've got something sufficient by the end of the day. In this situation? Nothing. Nada. Diddly squat as one might say. (Not me… typing that out actually made me cringe a bit, I just thought it fit with the ridiculousness of this post.) 

As you can imagine, spending hours trying to think of something that drives you crazy and not being able to come with anything significant enough to write four to six hundred words actually makes you go a little crazy. And so here I am, indignantly punching my computer keys and whispering incoherent mumblings, trying to get something down on this page so I can finish this assignment and be done with it. And I would like to point something out, I am not the type to do something just to get it done. Which is another reason why this assignment frustrated me to the core. I couldn't think of a single thing to write and as the deadline approached, I realized I had to get something typed into this box or I would be receiving a zero, cue panic. So now not only am I pulling my hair out over how angry I am at this assignment and myself for trying to save my worries for real life problems (why can't I just be like everyone else and occasionally burst a blood vessel over a person who perhaps shouldn't have received a drivers license) I'm also panicking over not getting anything written. And it's not nice. In fact it's so not nice, I just wrote four hundred words about it. 

Phew, well I am feeling much better now that I have something to post (and after reading it over I've decided that what this post is, is basically the incoherent mumblings I was whispering to myself as mentioned previously) and that I got what had been bothering me off my chest. It is now almost past my bedtime so I am going to end here and say I hope we never have to write rants again. 

(I hope this post reads not... well, dumb.)

(Disclosure: This has nothing to do with the prof of this course. All it is, is a bit of frustration over not being able to think of anything to say. Nothing personal! Hope I didn't offend.)

Imagine for a moment you're 15 again. you're awkward, uncomfortable, still going through that ugly phase, and your social skills are mediocre at best. This is me. well at least the me in the story I'm about to tell you. Winding the clock back, I take you to beautiful Palm Springs California. The sun is beating down on my back, my acne riddled face dewy from sweat, I observe as the man of my dreams (okay boy. He was a boy. But to my 15 year old self he may as well have been a god.) slowly removes his Hollister polo shirt, exposing every detail of his perfectly sculpted (scrawny) physique. he plays with his blond side swept hair before diving gracefully into the pool. I had been sitting safely in the confines of my own condo watching (stalking) quietly for a while by this point and had finally built up enough courage to actually go and say words to this boy. Between him and I stood this short wooden fence, I had it perfectly planned in my mind. I would climb the fence, pause for a moment at the top and pull my soft and luscious (frizzy) locks out of my ponytail, because at 15 thats about as sexy as it gets. I figured that after seeing me perched atop that fence he wouldn't be able to resist my charm and would immediately fall in love with me. I made sure to walk over at the perfect moment, he climbed out of the pool glistening and reached for his towel as I put my foot on the lower level of the fence. When I arrived at the top I noticed him glance in my direction and I knew that this was my moment. I reached my arm behind my head to pull my hair from its restraint, we made eye contact and I felt my heart pound and... and suddenly I'm lying flat on my back in a pile of wooden boards. I had broken the fence. Yep, I was so distracted by the "beauty" of this dude that I didn't even notice the section of fence I had decided to put all of my body weight on was somewhat on the unstable side. So now I'm lying there petrified and incredibly embarrassed with him standing over me (he ran over after watching me plummet to the ground.) He reached his arm out to help me up and the way I saw it I had two options; I could grab his hand and laugh it off like a normal person, or I could curl up in the fetal position for a moment roll over in the most inelegant way and sprint off back to the condo to hide in the darkest corner of my bedroom (this was the option I chose.)
Needless to say I never saw this guy again, I actually didn't leave my room for the duration of my holiday. And now you know the story of one of the most mortifying moments of my life, hows that for an introduction?

hi