A Long Rant That No One Wants to Read AKA Annie Deitz's 8th blog post

Fears: failure, not being good enough (vague, but I think/hope you understand what that means), drowning, my brother's allergies, that some creepy pale person with long finger nails and a horrible posture will sneak into my room at night

Annoyances: having to repeat myself, most people, repeated grammatical infractions, the fact that I wasn't allowed to run the "throwing ball game" at this carnival I volunteered at because I am a girl and girls don't like sports

Accomplishment: I get out of my bed most mornings

Confusions: physics

Sorrows: if this means things I need to work on in my life- procrastination, awkwardness, "talking to people," motivation, so many other things that I cannot write without seeming like an angst filled teenager

Dreams: MEETING TAYLOR SWIFT (WHICH WILL HOPEFULLY HAPPEN TUESDAY)

Idiosyncrasies: rain boots, my teddy bear named Austin who lives on my bed, this whole obsession I've had with llamas

Risks: not sure what this means...

Beloved Possessions, Now and Then: Taylor's autograph (Taylor as in Swift), my cd's, my Harry Potter books, Richard the Llama Homeslice (long story), my coffee cup

Problems: I'm not even going to start.

 

I guess my "annoyances will be the easiest to elaborate on, so, here we go:

Repeating Myself: Yes, I am perfectly aware that I speak quietly. Yes, I am perfectly aware that sometimes I speak quickly. BUT IT BOTHERS THE DEEPEST PART OF MY SOUL THAT YOU COULD NOT CARE ENOUGH ABOUT WHAT I WAS SAYING TO ACTIVELY LISTEN THE FIRST TIME THAT I SAID IT. I have a difficult time as it is with speaking aloud. When someone asks me to repeat myself, not because they tried but couldn't understand me, but because they the could not force themselves to listen to a single word that I was saying, IT UNLEASHES THE KRAKEN. Not actually. Krakens haven't existed in the United States in years. How does one even spell Kraken..? I missed it, most likely. Sorry, things distract me easily.

But yeah. I don't think anyone wants to hear what I say, so I don't speak frequently. And someone not paying attention to me in the rare instances I do speak lowers the likelihood that I will speak again in the future.

The next two items on the list of annoyances appear pretty self explanatory. If not, I again apologize, but I need to spend the rest of this blog post ranting about something that happened to me last night, or Friday night for those of you not reading this until later.

 

Every year, I volunteer at the ACE fall carnival. I love ACE, I went there as a young elementary school Annie and my brother goes there now. The staff and I are friends and walking on the campus reminds me of my childhood- when I wasn't stressed and slept a sufficient amount every night.

Anyways, I volunteer at this carnival all of the time. It's run by the PTA (which, BTW, my mother has been on up until this year) and again, I know many of the people in the PTA. I don't need anymore community service hours, but I really like to work there, so I signed up to work with my sister and her friend. When we arrived, we signed in and wrote our names on fancy, decorated name tags. We walked over to another table where we received our assignments, and they told me to go out back and run a game called "When Pigs Fly." I had no idea what this game was, and when I went out back, it hadn't even been set up. So, naturally I spent the next twenty minutes setting it up and figuring out the rules. Right before the carnival began, this lady came up to me. She said "You're a girl?"

Thinking this fact was obvious, I stared at her. She shook her head, and left. Five-ish minutes later, she came back with four 12 year old boys. "They're going to run this station now," she told me. "You won't be as good at it. You're a girl. We'll send you over to the face painting station, because girls are good at that. We'll leave sports games for the boys."

 

WHAT
THE
HECK
?
?
?

 

In that instant, I swore there were an infinite amount of names she needed to be called. But, because I am such a nice girl, I told her "Just because I happen to have two x chromosomes does not mean I am artistic. Your children will walk around with garbage painted on their faces if you send me there."

 

She giggles. "Okay sweetheart, you can go to the hair painting station. Girls love hair too. We have some nice ladies who work at a spa over there, maybe they could give you some tips!"

 

WHAT

HAPPENED

TO

YOU

TO

TURN

YOU

INTO

THIS

SEXIST

LITTLE

SHIa labeouf

?

 

"I really hate to complain, I know that I volunteered for this, but I just spent twenty minutes setting this up. I think I'll just get in the professional's way, or accidentally spray paint in some poor kid's eye. Maybe I could help those boys instead, they look a little rowdy already."

 

I pointed towards the children, who had, in the minute and a half that since they arrived, knocked over the stand that the carnival goers were to throw the ball into.

 

"No, it;s okay. They are boys, they'll be better with the throwing games than you will."

 

I shrugged, and thanked her. She smiled and showed me to the spray painting station, which was already surrounded by seven or eight girls who clearly did not have enough testosterone to tell children to throw something on something else.

 

I thanked her again, and she told me it was her pleasure. She flounced away, fortunately unable to see multiple plans for her murder in my head.

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Now you can decide- and hopefully tell me, it might help me refrain from enacting those murder plans. Am I crazy for being offended? Was she rude? Was that sexist? Can a woman be sexist towards other females? Of course, I was paraphrasing my own responses; but was I too insulting? Was I overreacting?
Personally, I believe that my responses were extremely controlled. I'm proud of myself for not murdering her.

Here I go again, writing really long, useless, boring rants that no one will finish reading. Please forgive me, I have  a bad habit of rambling. Maybe I needed to include that in my list. Oh well. I need to wrap it up, but all of the endings I have written so far sound incredibly awkward, so I'm ending it in the middl-