Tuesday, July 27 
Age check please. When I was in the Third grade I had to sit across from a boy that was super mean to me everyday. Name calling and such. Sticks and stones may break your bones, and words WILL hurt. At the young age of 8, I was not yet calloused from childhood and pre-teen years of more distress and provocation yet, as I am now, so I didn't do much to defend myself. I pretty much just sat there and took it in. So for Valentine's Day I decided to write a nasty mean message on his card, since we were all forced to make cards to exchange with our classmates. I can't quite remember what the cheesy phrase was but I remember whiting-out a word and replacing it with "PIG." Quite nasty, I know. My plotted revenge back-fired on me. I got told on and my teacher Mrs. Forrester, pulled me and John aside and made me apologize to him. It was a pretty big deal considering I was a very well-behaved child. I probably almost cried as I bitterly gave my "sorry." Soon there after I think she rearranged the seating chart.
I'm now 23, less than 2 months short of 24. Last night I received a phone call from my mother and I was once again chastised for hurting a boy's feelings. A 29 year old boy. Between ages 8 and 23, I've learned to fend for my own and I know now better than ever that nobody is going to serve me justice unless I do it myself. I am quick to defend myself and my friends when any wrong-doing is inflicted by others. So when my mom yells at me because "Call me Al" boy has told his mother who has told my aunt who has told my mother who's now telling me that I have publicly embarrassed him on the internet (via this blogspot) and the poor kid is losing sleep over it, I am anything but sorry and rather gasping at the absurdity of this situation. I have been reduced to an 8 year old child in the Third grade. So in my own defense, which I was never allowed then:
1. I would hardly consider my blogspot "public" seeming that I can probably identify 90% of the people that waste their time on this page. This is my personal blog so I will say what I damn well please.

2. Exploitation through mass communication is my specialty. That's why it's also my occupation.

3. If anything, I have embarrassed myself, which is probably the only reason this blogspot ever gets read. I seem to have mastered the art of humiliating myself, and it just so happens that you will come down with me if you've pissed me off.

4. If the emails were so humiliating, maybe that's a good sign that the writer should have been more tactful in his composition. I had no part in that. I had it confirmed by several people that it indeed looked liked a slimey email. And you know I don't let slimey people get away w/out a lesson. I have feelings too. And considering that, I still wrote him what I felt was a courteous, vigilant response.

5. Nobody should be losing sleep on the account of my ass. If it bothers you that much, I'd rather hear it from you than my mother. It would have been a much more effective guilt trip.

6. Did he really just tattle to his mother about this? How embarrassing.

7. I'm a bit skeptical of this whole accusation and wonder if the adults are blowing it out of proportion. Precisely why I nipped the arrangement at the butt when I did.

8. If roles were reversed, which wouldn't ever happen because I'm tactful, I'd just laugh my balls off and tell my friends "what a stupid bitch" and get over it.

9. I AM THE VICTIM. What kind of a lesson are my parents trying to teach me? It's ok to be nice to slime balls but most definitely don't share your feelings or speak your mind? (This is where Asian parents fail to instill self-esteem, self-assurance, self-confidence in their messed up children.)

10. I don't think I have done anything wrong but if an apology is what you want me to give, consider it done. Even though I think in the end he's only going to be more embarrassed about himself if I do that.

People, this is just comedy. Is this for real? I still can't get over that I just got yelled at by my mother (tag-teamed by dad in the background) for hurting a 29 year old guy's feelings. What about my feelings? Ludicrous I say, Ludicrous. Phone call coming right up.