Thursday, February 21, 2002

Blog Is Tryin' to Tell You Somethin'

So last night I got home from my aunt's birthday dinner full to the brim with negative energy; it seems that my road-rage isn't limited to when I am thwarted or irritated as a driver...I get just as infuriated when I am sitting in the back seat. My uncle was driving, and I was cramped up in the backseat of his Mitsubishi Diamante (why is it that cars built in Asia, where the average person is 5'5", but for a North American market where the average height is 5'9", are nevertheless scaled to an Asian proportion?), and by the time I got back home I was in an absolute rage over SUV's, Humvees, people who hang their left hand negligently out of the window (especially if there's a cigarette in the hand), people who drive dangerously slow, and halogen headlights. So I sat down at the computer and started pouring my rage into my blog, delineating a very precise and honest essay on the evils of timid driving and lane-blocking, the self-centered mindset of SUV-drivers and halogen-headlight-owners, the inherent tackiness of Humvees and Volkswagens...a vituperative account rounded out with a few home truths about my own less-than-fabulous driving skills.

And after an hour of cathartic venting, I clicked the 'Post & Publish' button and...nothing. One of those "page not available" scripts came up in the posts window, and the edit window went blank, taking an hour's worth of worked-out anger with it. Of course on this one occasion I forgot to save the text before I posted it, as I usually do (prompted by the other times I've lost huge amounts of text in this fashion).

Well, I didn't have a hissy fit, though I sort of wanted to. I just didn't feel the anger any more. I had vented; okay, so my work was lost to posterity, but there really wasn't anything in there worth saving. I mean, I don't save my own puke in a little zip-lock baggie, do I? I don't scoop turds out of the pot and have them bronzed and mounted on the mantel. I don't preserve my urine in little crystal flagons. So I don't really need to preserve my infuriated spewing blogs for the enlightenment of posterity. Sometimes they're funny, but they're not important. The purpose of venting is to get rid of the emotions, not to write them down so you can remind yourself what pisses you off later on.

Thank you, Blog, for teaching me that valuable lesson.

I still hate SUV's, though. Patience and tolerance. Patience and tolerance. Patience and tolerance. Patience and tolerance. Patience and tolerance...

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