Case o’ the Mondaze

I know that, overall, I was very lucky to have the family I did, growing up. The main complaint I might ever have reason to voice is that I never felt allowed to be angry or grumpy—states which are unavoidable in the teenage mood-swing-a-minute years. At best, and rarely, I’d get some time alone, maybe a hug. Typically, things either went to:

1. Mom crying and Dad yelling at me for making Mom cry
2. Mom and Dad thinking it was very funny, and the usual pat-on-the-head crap.

Yeah, I know. I have absolutely nothing to complain about.

But oh man, on a day like today where I just feel cranky and want to *be* cranky, it’s annoying as hell to hear a chuckle. Aren’t you so cute? Being cute is great until you want to be taken seriously, which deep down is what it’s all about. I can kick you in the shins just as hard as my brother can.

In other news, the Oscars were actually pretty fun last night. It was all pretty reserved but funny. The BEST moment was watching the musicians behind “It’s Hard Out Here for a Pimp” receive their Oscar. They were so overjoyed and surprised . . . conversely, my one pet peeve is people who clog up their speech time with “Don’t cut me off” or “I know I have ten more seconds.” Look folks, there is a valid reason for keeping the speeches to a certain time. Spending your time expressing disdain over the policy is whiny and cuts into your own speech time.