Wednesday, May 12, 2010


Today's "secret" isn't exactly the most well-kept one. Instead, I wear it like a badge of honour, despite the taunts and jeers I receive from my ill-tasted co-workers... I love Glee!

So there I was indulging in my weekly dose of the High School Musical hybrid on crack (yum?), when one of my favourite characters, Sue Sylvester, made a snarky comment about going off into a diatribe. I burst out laughing, as my shift manager came running to see what was "sooo hilarious". (Did I forget to mention that having a television at work is the best way to get your employees to be productive? My breaks, or moreover "breaks", are now timed to the schedule of my shows) In trying to explain the line, I got a puzzled look, which made me contemplate whether or not I had grown a third eye, or sprouted another head. It was then that I realized that he had no idea what a diatribe was.

This got me thinking. " A rose by any other name would smell as sweet". Except that a diatribe by any other name just doesn't have the same effect. Yes, the colloquial word "rant" is definitely preferred by the masses, the intellectual prestige reflected by the use of the word diatribe just adds that extra zinger. I hate the word rant. I envision that when saying it, I wear the face of someone that just smelt doggy poop. Hell, the word itself consequently ruins every other word it is a part of. Scranton for example.... (Office fans unite!) It should be mandatory to pronounce that town's name with a slow, pronounced drawl. Which in itself makes the name a tad more trashy. Disclaimer: I do not mean to say anything about those that live in Scranton, but to rather comment on the name of the town.

Back in grade 12, I was enrolled in a "Writer's Craft" course. This program allowed me to explore multiple avenues of writing, and here I learned how much I enjoyed writing diatribes. The rules are "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything" were out the window. In fact, the more cutting, the better. I watched as others around me crumbled under the pressure to produce a rant worthy of submission, yet few had the ability to really get their point across in a sophisticated, non-whiny fashion. Look out for one of my fashion rants in future posts, and perhaps you even think I'm ranting here. Either way, I hope you can stand my bursts of insanity. Today's was brought to you by the letter Q, and working for 12 hours under the strain of crazy, demanding customers...


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