Wednesday, April 7, 2010

There Are No Words, So Of Course, I Wrote An Essay

I'm so glad that the good people of Fulton, Mississippi have unified us in the importance of recognizing sheer ridiculousness. Let's face it--every once in a while, somebody somewhere has to do something incredibly stupid/mean or so over-the-top anti-nice that we all snap into consciousness with a collective "They did what?" It brings us together as a nation. It gives us something to focus on. It sparks our very humanity.

And....I know I'm right about this because I spent 6 hours last night, flipping through hundreds (and hundreds) of online comments about it. Yes, I'm insane, but in my OCD for detail, I did make a mental note of the fact that the majority of the people making comments or writing blogs were in complete agreement about what constitutes a complete and total asshole. So that's good. Since we can all agree on that, there is definitely hope for the future.

I'm not going to write a whole lot about this, mainly because Dorothy Snarker has already done a beautiful job of expressing what needs to be said here, but I will say a couple of things: First, I know that in the South, Prom is a huge, huge deal, and people take it very seriously, but those of us who are 106 years old and had perfectly lovely times at our proms should remind you that it did nothing to shape our lives in any significant way, unless maybe someone got pregnant on prom night or something. Speaking as someone who did not get pregnant on prom night, I can tell you that I barely remember them. I remember the people, and a bit of the dresses, but I don't remember what anyone else was wearing or who their dates were, or anything else that happened that night. In fact, I'm going to go ahead and say the same about pretty much my entire high school experience. Lovely people, and I'm sure we did stuff, some of which I remember, and I'm sure there was drama at some point, but honestly, I don't remember any of it, and it means zero when you're out in the world. Zero. And, I actually LIKE all the people I went to high school with--they were all nice people. If I didn't like them, all of the things that happened back then would mean even less than zero. I have fond memories. If they were assholes like the people who organized and attended the Not-Prom Party in Fulton, Mississippi last week, I would have completely erased them to make room for good stuff. That's the trick...don't give it a foothold. *Poof!* LIke it never even happened.

Second, small-minded people will always find a way to put you down if they perceive you to be different from them. I know that it's hard not to take it personally, but make no mistake, they do this not because they actually are better than you, but because they are horrified by the prospect that they are much, much worse. They only know one way, and have too much fear to even think about the notion that the one way could be completely wrong. They will go to great lengths to preserve that one way--they stunt their own growth out of fear of the unknown.

There are two ways to fix this, one being to bring them gently forward, and that is what would have occurred if nobody had ever made a big deal about a girl wearing pants to Prom. The other way of bringing people out of their fear and educating them is a sort of shock treatment, which is what the people of Fulton, Mississippi are getting right now, as the subject of a story that went viral. Surprise! You know how, when you are a mom, and you see your kid reaching for the stove and you smack their little hands to keep them from burning their fingers? You do it with love, right? They have to learn, or they'll burn. Well, think of this like you think of that. Yes, swatting their fingers might sting a little, and they'll cry and maybe you'll feel bad for having to do it, but you're doing them a favor. After this, they should know better than to ever try anything like that again--they might not understand WHY they're not supposed to do that until they get a little older, but, someday, they'll get it. You've done your job. It had to be done.

To that end, here are some contacts for you--please use them with love.

Itawamba County Schools Superintendent Teresa McNeece:

tmcneece@itawamba.k12.ms.us
662-862-2159 ext. 14

Itawamba Agricultural High School principal Trae Wiygul

Monday, April 5, 2010

Fake Healthy

Don't you hate it when a cold is kicking your ass?
 
 
I talk for a living. 
 
 
OK, actually I "argue" for a living but it involves speaking so, so....so there.
 
 
Anyway, I'm a total mouth-breathing, stuffy-nosed ick right now.  I don't know if I'd believe me when I said something, either.  I haven't lost any arguments, though, so I guess it means I'm Just. That. Good.
 
 
The thing about a stuffed up nose when you're trying to talk someone down (uh....I mean, calmly explain to them why they are full of shit...) is that by the time you get done talking, you notice that your heart rate is way up because you've been taking only shallow breathes so as not to sound like the gasping, wheezing, inflicted person that you are. 
 
The Fake Healthy act is exhausting. 
 
I wonder if this qualifies as aerobic exercise?

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Rumbly

Oh, Company Store Guy....you don't have to ask, "Hungry?" if I'm standing in front of your cash register with a bag of beef jerky, a container of cottage cheese, a bag of sunflower kernels and a pack of gum.


There's no need to state the obvious.


And Yes, it is obvious...surely it is well known that the combination of beef, dairy fat, and seeds in my hands indicates that I was in a training meeting that everyone swore would only be an hour, hour and a half, tops, and it actually went on for two and a half hours and if I don't get the exact, perfect ratio of protein and fat in my body immediately, I'm gonna rip someone's head off.


Everybody knows this.


Please don't make me smile and be nice right now. There are rules.


Just like if it's a Saturday morning and I'm in line at BK buying an original chicken sandwich, and won't remove my sunglasses no matter what? You should know better than to ask if I got drunk the night before.


Duh.


And please note the subtle difference between Work Hungry and Hangover Hungry--most notably, Hangover Hungry allows carbs. Not potato carbs, though, just bread carbs. That is to say, hold the fries. Work Hungry allows only the carbs one would find in a piece of sugarless gum, and only after you've consumed all of the other stuff, and only because you forgot that you don't have a toothbrush in your purse and you just ate an entire bag of beef jerky.


OK....so....everyone got it now?


Good.


Carry on.