Warning: Not for those sensitive types.

In class, I realized that I can be very hard on people. In fact, sometimes I want to kick people’s asses.

Here’s the deal: you guys know I’m a reasonable person. I’m actually not the friendliest person you ever met, but I give people a chance. I’m polite. I understand people have hardships.

BUT.

When you come to this country for a higher education, DO NOT AVOID LEARNING THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. You are not above it. You don’t get to just speak it – LEARN TO WRITE IT. And write it at the higher education level, NOT at the elementary grade level. Do this before you start a program.

In my PR class, we work in groups – EVERY class. My group consists of a 38 year old really pretty skinny blonde girl who doesn’t look a day over 32 and has summered in Newport forever. The other girl in my group is prob about 23, from Senegal, West Africa. She’s also really pretty and stylish. Yet, each class we have to pass in ONE paper per group. So I just assumed we would all take turns writing it, transcribing the brainstorming and then writing the actual paper. Until it was Senegal’s turn. I had to point out it was her turn because I wasn’t about to start writing on Wednesday. And she acted as if she was actually ILLITERATE. And I’m not saying that in a mean way. I actually felt like she couldn’t write. The sentences we would say to her would translate totally different on paper. She even got so frustrated that she tore out the paper to start over. START OVER! It took you 12 minutes to write our names! So Newport took over eventually for her. I stayed out of it. I thought, Senegal is getting the SAME DEGREE as me. Getting the same grades… and she cant WRITE IN ENGLISH?!?!? How is this fair? How was she even allowed into the program?

Truthfully, it burns me up like no other. To the point where last night I saw on the news about an illegal immigrant who raped a bunch of women in MetroWest and NJ. And I’m like WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!! Why do they keep coming here and fucking up our lives?

Granted. That is an incredibly narrow minded view on things and I know that in my heart. I just cant help the feeling that creeps up now and then about these people who are getting to live here and not pay taxes and not assimilate into our AMERICAN culture – YES THERE IS ONE – and so what if its that we’re obese and gregarious and competitive? SO EFFING WHAT? If that’s what makes me American, then I’ll eat a fucking steak every night to pack on some poundage.

Argh. Sorry. Its Friday, I’ve had pretty much the shittiest week that I’ve had all year and I just want BFF to come home and make it all better. Ya got that, BFF? Just give up your dreams and come play golf with me every night when I get out of work. Sadly, that was the best I could come up with when thinking about what would make me happy. And to go to the beach with JK. In fact, maybe just living at the beach with JK for the rest of eternity and not working ever again. Like in the US Virgin Islands, where BFF could do a 4 month travel assignment and stay with us.

God, sometimes when I write these kinds of blogs, I just delete them and come up with some banal substitute. Today is not that day though. You’re going to get what I write, whether you like it or not. But typically, I’d write things like this:

Today’s Sephora Wish List: Philosophy Pigment of Your Imagination, Radiance-Plus Self Tanning Cream-Gel, and Medi-Matte Oil Control Spray.

But while I don’t have $ to buy said products, Mel is giving me HOPE because I made her buy it (girl doesn’t use any products – AT ALL) and it made her break out into a horrible rash. Whoops. So she’s letting me have it.

Also, instead of what I wrote about, I’d write about how Newport is 38 and still looking for the right guy to get married and have children. 38. Sounds impossible. Sounds so far off into the distance. Sounds so – yep, I’m going to say it – OLD. And yet, there she is, still thinking it’s a possibility and not even just a possibility but a reality. To have a kid. All that. And here I thought you were kinda stuck at 35 and if it didn’t happen by then, you had to likely resign to the fact that you would be single and fabulous forever and thus you had to move to NYC. You kinda cant be 38 and fabulous in Central Massachusetts.

Ok. I have to cut this short… I have undergrad flyers to create and edit.