Rant number...(?!) I lost count.

Can't help myself...have to vent!
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Dear Snot-nosed 18-yr old sitting next to me in Math class:

Spare me your drama.  Puh-lease!  You're all of like, 20 years younger than me....and though you may think you're grown up and all that....get over yourself. 

Let me elaborate for you - since I'm sure the "big" words are getting in the way of your understanding.

Me. (pointing to myself) No. (shaking finger side to side...like I have to for my children) Like. You. (pointing to you).

I'm sure deep down, you're great.  {Like, reeeeeeaaallly deeeeeeep down.}

You know why I'm writing this letter.  But for those that don't let me elaborate....

I am 35 years old, and back in school.  I have found college to be somewhat liberating - in that - I finally don't care what my schoolmates think of me! [Insert: Hallelujah Chorus complete with brass band] All it took was 20 years and a little perspective...go figure!?!  NEWSFLASH:  My peers, are in fact, some of the older students as well as the faculty.  I've "been there" and "done that" and am going to school, because I've figured out what I want to do.  So, really....I go because I want to be there. Not because its a Fashion Convention. Or a great way to meet guys. Got one! ;) {smug smile}  End of story.

So, last week, when I overheard you and your little gal-pal friend making fun of my clothes, it honestly didn't bother me.  Because, seriously(?!) who really cares about that stuff?!

Oh yeah, right....  You're 18.  You care about that stuff right now.

Honestly, I had a good laugh at it.  Yes, my jeans were ratty.  Yes, they have a tear in the knee and on the back left pocket.  My husband hates those jeans too...but me....I love 'em, because they're comfy.  And while I don't dress to impress, I do make it a point to be clean and presentable....my clothes fit, I wasn't poppin' outta anything...I had running shoes and a hoodie on too....I was casusal...but presentable. Which is more than can be said for some other classmates of ours (you know I'm talkin' about you dreadlocks...just 'cuz you like the granola look, doesn't mean you have to smell...one word: DEODORANT...I know it's not cuz you can't afford it...I saw your ride...you drive a BMW for pities sake! But I'll come back to you later...) 

So, really....that wasn't what prompted this rant.  Bringing it up was more for backstory than anything else...

But, Oh. My. Heck.  What you did today, totally took the cake on the self-absorbed scale.  Yelling at the landscaper who was cleaning the walk way because YOU got in HIS way while he was blowing the sidewalk?!  Really?!  I happened to be going to my car - and was following you - because you were in the vicinity of said car.  And then that phone conversation - with whoever your ride was...?  I hope you weren't talking to your Mother like that!  You seem able-bodied....if your "ride" can't be there....get yourself a freakin' job and buy your own dang car!  Don't yell at the person doing you a favor...{mumble/grumble...ungrateful wretch...}

SCREAMING obscenities at your ride would only make them stall...rather than hurry to your aid, Princess.  (At least in my home it would...!)  So...rant aside, I'm sure you'll grow up into a perfectly nice human being someday. 

Someday being the operative word.

In the mean time, I hope someone gets your scritchy voice on tape while you're in the middle of one of your "fits" and plays it back to you.  I'm sure if you have any shame...you'd feel it as you listen to yourself talk. 

In the meantime....I hope you grow up quickly.  If only so your incessant chomping of your gum will fade and the chatter of "oh my gawsh!" [edited] will stop.  In the meantime, I will be picking up an extra large bottle of Excedrin, to face the next 3 weeks of class. :)

Sincerely,
Your Older and Wiser Classmate