ON FIRE . . .

I am cranky and tired and sad and not coping well with the health issues of those close to me or the departures of those I love or the lack of sleep over the last month, so I'm just going to rage and rage to my heart's content. I probably won't mean most of this tomorrow, and maybe I might even regret my raging because it's all such small potatoes, really, but it's my blog and I'll say whatever the heck I want to in it, First Amendment, thank you very much. (Actually, I have no idea what the constitutionally-protected or not-protected status of blogs is, so I might really be up a creek here.)

It is NOT alright to treat my house as your own if you are not a close friend and make very little effort to be one. It is NOT alright to be argumentative about whether the air conditioning is on or not, because IT'S ON, and you just need to be patient and sit still to cool down. It is NOT alright to open the window and let in mosquitos and other creepy-crawly bugs just because YOU can't feel the COLD AIR that is blowing out of my vents. It is NOT alright to rummage through my cupboards and ask if you can eat whatever you find in there. It is NOT alright to ask "why not?" when I say, "no, that's not for public consumption." It is NOT alright to spill something on my carpet, and sort of rub it in with your foot half-heartedly and feel no compunction to even TRY to clean it up because you just don't care because it's not YOUR house. (To counter this, though, I must add that if anything ever spills on your carpet, Ranger Jay is the guy to have around. Arm him with some OxyClean, and you'll be set.)

It is NOT alright to come to a social gathering and have one of your first actions be to ask or reach for my computer so you can watch things on YouTube.com. It is NOT alright to then spend the next hour, in the company of others who do NOT share your prediliction for all things media-related and against all things human-interaction-related, watching things on the computer, to the exclusion and detachment of everyone else. I dread the day when all parties and gatherings will happen via the Internet. We will have no use for each other as living, breathing humans anymore.

It is NOT alright to sing at the top of your lungs some ridiculous show tune, in my home, which is part of an attached apartment building, at 11 o'clock at night on a Sunday. It is PARTICULARLY NOT alright when you can't carry a tune.

It is NOT alright to wear clothing that doesn't match your age. It is NOT alright to try look ridiculously young because you just end up looking cheesy and desperate, or to dress flimsily to church (although, actually, hee ... I think I was sort of flimsy myself yesterday, but it was so darn hot! Besides. My skirt, at least, was a decent length.). It is NOT alright to then drape yourself all over men who BELONG TO OTHER WOMEN. And yes, I just said "belong," because you know what? At a certain point of intimacy, that's just what it is.

It is NOT alright to not know proper, everyday vocabulary words. If you went to college, you have NO EXCUSE. Read more books, or pay more attention to what people are saying and how they are saying it. The vacancy and emptiness is just becoming tedious at this point.

It is NOT alright to act out when you are 25 years old or older. Stop showing off for people. Stop over-dramatizing a wound that doesn't exist. Stop clamouring to be the center of attention when there are twenty other people in the room who are more interesting than you. Stop talking louder and louder to be heard, thinking you are wittier than you actually are, or thinking that people care what you are saying. Stop flirting with other women's men. Stop that infernal young-person drawl -- you sound like a Valley Girl.

***

Alright, I realize that everything I said here is also NOT alright. But I am cranky. And angry. And annoyed. I realize how ungracious and hypocritical everything I have said is, for I know better than anyone all the times I have been overimposing at someone else's home, or have behaved like a baby after I passed puberty, or have mispronounced a word because I didn't know better. Errrr ... I hope I don't have to confess to having dressed inappropriately to anything though. And I am somewhat ashamed at my lack of compassion and understanding, and my unwillingness -- temporary though it may be -- to forgive these people these small wrongs. But the memories of these things are still fresh and the "wounds" suffered from being the target of rudeness and a member of an unwilling audience still sting. So just allow me this raging, for it will end soon, and all will be right again. As long as everyone cooperates.