I know this may come as a shock to some of you, but you are not the center of the universe.

Believe me, it’s hard to take in. Especially if you’re 1. Some guy with little to no chance of touching actual breasts, and feel threatened at the sight of men who do. Or 2.  an Emo teenager who updates your facebook every couple of hours with how hard your life is and how hurt your feelings are

Something that’s really starting to annoy me is the hate on certain movies that come out. Certain movies catered to teenage girls perhaps?

While at the movies last week, I had the misfortune of sitting in front of 6 stereotypically geeky men. I’m married to a geek, so I don’t have anything against geeks. These guys were playing hand held games, and were networked together to play it. The movie was rated R, so these were grown ups. They were in their early 20s.

On the screen comes a trailer for the upcoming Twilight movie. I’m not kidding, they all groaned together at the site of it. Why? I guess they’re not interested in seeing it. But perhaps they feel threatened by the fact that women would rather daydream about Robert Pattinson (insert girls screaming. Dreamy!!!) than ever let any of them (these were not cute guys) touch them? Ever?

I get that you don’t like the movies. I wasn’t crazy about them. I like them, but when I read the books the characters didn’t talk like they were suffering from cramps. I read Edward like he was a grown, 109 year old man, dealing with a teenage girl. No angst. Just normal speaking.

My problem with this is, no one is asking you to go see it! No one is forcing you to take the time and money and watch this movie, or any other movie catered to other target audiences. Do you think the teenage girls and mini-mos give a crap about the next robot/bad actress with giant breasts/sci-fi/action fest? No! They probably don’t. That’s why we’re lucky enough to have many, many bad movies to choose from, and a 14 year old’s money is as good as that of a 25 year old computer geek.

I remember a time when a certain movie came out about this guy who had daddy issues. He kissed his sister, got his hand chopped off and talked to robots and a giant dog. Indiana Jones was in it too. If you were one of the many people foolish enough to stand in line, overnight, to see how this story began back in 1998, you may be one of those people who hate on Twilight fans. Ironic. I would think you could relate to feeling such a close connection to a set of characters and wanting to watch their story unravel on the big screen. Princess Leia in a gold bikini for you, sexy vampires for them.

Something else that’s driving me a little crazy today is this: when did being miserable, feeling sorry for yourself and seeking attention by accomplishing nothing become the norm?

I had a rather interesting conversation with my Bestie yesterday. She made a great point of asking “when exactly did social networking become an activity worthy of mention in the said social networking update?” Indeed. How empty and boring must you be to have nothing better to do than go see what other people are doing with their life, or see what update they might be sharing, for hours on end?

My question was this: When did social networking updates become diary entries? A place to share all your thoughts about everything and everyone who’s your “friend”, no matter how personal or inappropriate?

I use the term friend very loosely and in quotes here because I think it’s a joke. If your only contact with someone is via a certain website, and you live in the same city, you’re not friends. You’re acquaintances. If they’re not willing to drop everything when you need them, they’re not really your friend. If the only way you have of knowing what’s going on in their life is via the site, wake up.

She told me of her 14 year old cousin. This cousin, along with many other teenage girls I’m sure, seems to think that her life is so hard. It sucks. Her parents suck. Her boyfriend sucks. How did my friend come by this information? By reading this ridiculous child’s updates, which show up on the home page whether you want to see them or not.

If you own a computer, a phone, are not starving, have a roof over your head and your own room, have loving parents who are still together and don’t beat you, I’m pretty sure you have no right to feel sorry for yourself. That’s just my opinion, and I have a not nearly unique enough right and point of view to share it. Your 14 year old boyfriend doesn’t “love” you anymore? Boohoo. You’ll have another one in a week.

I’m really sick of these little privileged children feeling sorry for themselves because it’s the cool thing to do now. Because they have some narcissistic need to have everyone pay attention to them and make them feel like they’re a unique and beautiful snow flake. Snow flakes melt when it gets warm. Strive to be yourself, but to be someone who does more than just sit around and feel sorry for yourself. What good are you bringing the world, and why should the world go out of it’s way to make you feel special when you care for no one except yourself?

Now, don’t get me wrong. I realize that some people have it rough. They come from broken homes, they have abusive parents and engage in abusive relationships. Most people who are actual victims of something terrible do not share this information on a social networking site. People who want attention do. People who need other people to tell them how special they are by way of posting a 2 line comment to their “Boohoo me” update do.

If you’re feeling sad and depressed and need a pick me up, please, pick up the phone and call someone who really, actually cares about you. Someone who thinks you’re worth more than a few clicks and keystrokes online. ‘Oh, I told him/her they’re super. That’s good enough’. I’ve never felt the need to whine about myself on my update. I’m awesome, that’s why. But also because my husband and best friend make sure that I feel valued, and I don’t need 20 other people to tell me how awesome I am.

What happened to escapism? My friend and I both found the same way of coping with our less than ideal situations while growing up. We read. When my life was unbearable and I wanted to do everything I could to forget and be someone else, I did. I picked up a book and ran away, in my head, to a better place. I became another girl in a different school, with a different family, or the silly family cat.

I coped, grew up, moved away and moved on. I lived my own fairy tale. I found my beast who became my prince and realized that my life is what I make of it. My own family failed me, so I made my own. If you’re an older member of my family and are reading this, you know what I’m talking about, so I refuse to apologize for that statement. I have an incredible memory.

Wow, it got dark there. Whew! I’m ok, moving on….

What do these 2 topics have in common? I’m getting sick and tired of people thinking that the world should revolve around them, and that they’re the only ones that matter. Their problems are worse than anybody’s, their taste of entertainment is better than anyone else, and anyone who disagrees should die. Or is stupid.

YOU ARE NOT THE CENTER OF THE UNIVERSE. You are a part of the world, not it’s dictator. Just because you don’t like something, doesn’t mean it should cease to exist. If you don’t have anything to offer the world other than sad, pathetic whining, you are not a constructive part of it. You are a part of the slushy puddle of melted snowflakes that make up all of us in the world. Get used to it.

This entry was posted on Sunday, June 20th, 2010 at 4:05 pm and is filed under Random Rants. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.