Rant (For those of you who do not wish to read my rant, please take your business elsewhere. I won't be offended. By which I mean, I will be offended,

I just won't tell you I am and I will secretly hate you for the rest of my days.) Which is a nice opening for my rant (a "rant" is also known as a "harangue" or "a loud bombastic declamation expressed with strong emotion." Doesn't "bombastic" seem like slang that would be used by nerdy missile designers when they think something's totally awesome?).

So. I hate that everybody and their pet rabbit has a blog where they write about their radically extreme views on stuff. Just sniff around the blogosphere for a minute or two (you'll have to leave the happy-stay-at-home-mom circle though... if you're not too scared) and you'll find somebody's blog declaiming the virtues of pickled rhinoceros liver in ridiculously hyperbolic terms. And that's cool I guess. I don't have a problem with that (unless poaching was involved and the rhinos did not die of natural causes and then had their livers removed to be pickled in order to conserve the resources of Mother Earth. That would be bad). But there it is! That's my rant: "That's cool I guess. I don't have a problem with that (followed by mental snide remark I'm too polite/wussy to say out loud)."

How come nobody has a problem exposing their insane opinions except for me? (And you, of course. Your opinions aren't insane. See? I'm doing it again!) Was I really raised so differently from everybody else? Curse you, Yvonne and Mike. You have virtually crippled me when it comes to believing everything that comes out of my own mouth. When I have an opinion, I do not think to myself, "Wow, I am brilliant. It would be selfish of me to hold back and deprive the world of my genius opinion on the topic of lemon custard. Shout it from the rooftops! Lemon custard has an icky texture but a fresh, tangy taste that is perfect in a Schnuck's donut with lemon frosting!"

Sorry, but that is just not my style. No, when I have an opinion, I think to myself, "Wow, I am brilliant. It would be selfish of me to hold back and deprive the world of my genius opinion on the topic of lemon custard. Shout it... from the... Wait a second... What if I am wrong? What if I tell everyone what I think about lemon custard and then I find out later that it's actually got a great texture but tastes like pickled rhino liver? That would be really embarrassing. Or worse, what if by saying that I think lemon custard has its faults but is overall pretty bombastic I (DUN DUN DUN) offend someone??? That could lead to them (DUN DUN DUN) getting their feelings hurt!!! And that could lead to them (DUN DUN DUUUUUNNNNN) NOT LIKING ME ANYMORE!!! ABORT! ABORT! Do not share your opinion on controversial subjects such as lemon custard with anyone unless their stance on the subject has already been established. Then just go with whatever they say! Meanwhile, maintain your original thoughts on lemon custard within your own mind and then feel grumpy and misunderstood whenever anybody brings up the topic of lemons, custard, donuts, baking, or asthmatic manatees." Which is not only wordy, long winded, and borderline schizophrenic, but also totally exhausting.

And yes, yes, I know that not wanting to hurt people's feelings is generally considered a noble ambition but I think there comes a point where it becomes counterproductive. I mean, what if Winston Churchill had said, "I don't think I will call Adolf a meany-weany pustule on the hairy buttocks of humanity and throw bombs at him because it could hurt his feelings and damage his fragile ego."? What if Dumbledore had decided not to help out Harry in his quest to vanquish Voldemort because it might seem like favoritism to the other kids at Hogwarts and they might get their feelings hurt because they are not as special as Harry and their growth might be stunted and they might send around a petition accusing Dumbledore of impure intentions toward the students he considers "special"?

What I'm trying to say is that cool and important people like Winston and Albus do not dither over how their potential brilliance will affect a few whiney jerk-faces that they probably won't know in a year. Sometimes the greater good must be served!

"If you are holding out for universal popularity, you are going to be in this cabin for a very long time."

And so I would like to declare this the beginning of an era of change. I am going to stop worrying so much over offending people with my sheltered white girl pansy attempts to be controversial and just be myself. Or at least I will try for a day or two. So, here I go. Let's get warmed up with some things that have been eating at me lately:

• I do not hate Twilight. Although there are some pretty egregious literary crimes committed here, I would just like to point out that this was S.M.'s first book and that it is not her fault that her ideas were bigger than her ability to write them at the time. She didn't know her stuff would be held up for scrutiny in front of the entire world. Plus she's imaginative and creative and richer than God which is more than I can say of her many critics and slanderers. Lighten up people! It's just a book!
• I think Glen Beck is scary. And not just because when he smiles at the camera I feel a cold chill and get a tummy ache.
• I really like custard donuts. I know that custard is pretty much the worst thing a person can put in her body besides live needle-covered poisonous scorpions but I just can't help it. And I don't like it when people insinuate that I could help it if I tried. Please stop doing that.
• I do not appreciate people that believe everything that comes out of their own mouths. It's really egotistical to think that the way you were raised is the only right, best, or deity-sanctioned way to live. That's just silly. It's like thinking that because your mom only gave you orange juice to drink when you were a kid and spent all day ruminating on the bombastic nature of juice that is orange, kids who drank only apple juice, kool-aid, capri-sun, gatorade, or milk are all doomed to suffer in a hell of their own making because their moms didn't love them enough to expose them to a juice that they'd never heard of that comes from a fruit that is named after a color that it is not. You know?

Well now I'm totally freaked out. That was really hard to write. I kept going through a mental rolodex of people who might someday hear from their cousin's ex-girlfriend's mechanic that I wrote all those very controversial things and be offended. As a result this came out somewhat wussier than I had hoped. Sorry... I mean, don't be offended or anything. I totally trust you, reader who made it this far into the post. You're totally awesome, I mean bombastic, and I agree with everything you say, will say, or have ever said in the past because I am very easy going and nice and so you should tell all your friends how cool I am and how nothing I wear makes me look fat or wrinkly or even remotely like a person who has read Harry Potter 86 times.

Guess it was too good to last.