Disclaimer: Do you honestly think I'm worthy enough to own RENT? I didn't think so.
Behold the product of an hour or two of boredom. I started randomly scribbling down this rant, thought it was Maureen-worthy, and tailored it to suit her character. Is it meant to be taken seriously? No. Is it funny? I certainly hope so.
Enjoy, and please review! It's my first RENT story, so I'd like to know what you think =D
All I wanted was to enjoy a nice lunch by myself today, but no! That didn't work, because I was halfway through dessert by the time I realized I didn't bring enough cash. So, you know what happened? I had to wash dishes.
Yup, that's right. I, Maureen, future movie star extraordinaire, was forced to wash dishes.
By hand.
My hands are ruined. I mean it; they're more wrinkled than the old lady across the street; they're so shriveled that they look like Roger's brain.
So I washed dishes for three hours (three hours!!), fully expecting to be welcomed by my concerned girlfriend when I arrived home. That's what anyone would expect, right? Well, apparently my expectations were too high. Joanne laughed at me.
Laughed.
She completely ignored my plight and told me that that I go what I deserved; she also said that I should try to take all of the money the next time I raid her stash in the refrigerator (she knows I don't like vegetables; I only discovered the cash because I wanted tomatoes on my sandwich one day).
Apparently there was another ten hidden behind the lettuce.
Then, if you can believe it, Pookie told me that at least I knew how to wash dishes. She said that if anything, I had "learned something from my misadventure." I must have looked mad, because she kissed me, told me that's just how life is sometimes, and ran off to work on one of her cases.
This made me start thinking.
Whenever something that I don't like happens—whenever something big doesn't go my way—people always tell me that it's just life.
They tell me that everything will turn out okay eventually. They tell me to enjoy life (I already do, thank you very much!), to stop thinking only about myself (come on, guys, I'm not that vain and self-absorbed), and (my personal "favorite") to take what life gives me and make the most of it.
Yup, that's right.
When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.
Don't get me wrong—I love lemonade (especially when it's mixed with something a bit stronger). But, seriously, make lemonade?! Who came up with that metaphor? Or really, the whole thing in general?
When I'm mad, I'm mad for a reason! I am not about to take a few minutes, sit down, and drop my anger just because some saying involving a yellow, sour citrus fruit tells me to!
I'm going to continue on with my warpath. I'm going to rant, scream, and (occasionally) throw things. For one, it's a lot more fun that way. Also, it makes Joanne mad; she's hot when she's mad.
With reasons like those, can you blame me?
There's another lemon quote that I've been hearing lately as well. I like it—Mark told me that it agrees with my personality—but it doesn't strike me as being a successful alternative.
It goes something like this: When life throws you lemons, throw them back and tell life to make its own damn lemonade.
In theory, that's an amazing idea. I mean, who doesn't love to throw things? And getting an attitude with life? Heck yeah! It does channel the anger very nicely, and it doesn't tell you to get rid of it, but my thoughts are that life would probably be pretty pissed if it were hit on the head by one of its own lemons.
Hell, it would probably take sadistic pleasure in chucking something else at you to get revenge.
Life is a bitch already; it screws you over even when you aren't throwing hypothetical lemons at it, so I'd prefer not to contemplate the possible ramifications of so irresponsible an action (What? I do have a large vocabulary; I just don't use it much).
Life probably won't be too worried about your feelings when it beans you with a watermelon (I've decided that it would probably choose a watermelon, because watermelons, even hypothetical ones, hurt to get hit by) in revenge for the lemons.
Therefore, throwing things back at life is just an unintelligent course of action. I guess what I'm trying to say is that these clichés are really annoying. They're trying to force the human populace into living subdued and anger-less lives.
These platitudes are here to keep us from following our emotions—why are we not allowed to be angry?!
It really ticks me off.
Honestly, I'd much rather throw a tantrum worthy of a two-year old and have hot make-up sex afterwards than to not throw a tantrum worthy of a two-year old (I'd still get the sex…I'm irresistible, and Joanne knows it).
All I want to do is express my anger. I don't want to channel it towards life, and I don't want to get rid of it. I just want to stomp around and scream.
Is it possible to boycott trite sayings? Publically, I mean. It's pretty easy to keep yourself from saying something, but what about other people?
I have an idea—that can be my next performance! I can see it now! We can start with the East Village; they can spread the word, and soon all of New York will know how misleading the lemons are!
I'll get Mark, Roger (if I can tear him away from Mimi), Mimi (if I can tear her away from Roger), Collins (he's always up for going against the established order), and Joanne to help out.
Hmmm…Joanne. It's been a while since I've heard anything from her. She probably thinks I'm still mad (well, I am, but not with her). I wonder if she's busy right now with that case…I hope she's not. We can start planning (and I plan on letting her distract me...she owes me something).
First things first, though.
I want some lemonade.
Reviews are supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.