Once upon a time I was a fairly popular web graphic designer and files clerk with few, if any problems other than where my next 75 cents for the bus was going to come from. I was happy with the world I lived in...no complaints.

And then I moved across town and got a new job. This job required me to interact with people. Often, these people were dumb. No, wait. The people were okay. It was their actions, and what they were saying, that was dumb. Not being one to tolerate idiocy in otherwise intelligent-seeming people, I got mad. And madder. And then just angry, bitchy, and generally unpleasant. My innate sense of humor developed a razor's edge of sarcasm. My cheery smile became forced and completely, utterly fake, more so than a porn queen's chest. I became adept at blanketing my feelings with a veneer of happiness, hoping that maybe I could cultivate the veneer eventually into genuine good humor.

Then one day I went to the emergency room and the doctor told me I was working pretty hard on a nasty ulcer. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that all my suppressed angst wasn't doing me any good. In fact, without any sort of outlet for my stress, it just festered and tightened and got all tangled up until I was even more stressed out than I had been to start with.

After throwing down some money for Prilosec and Lortab, and experiencing my soundest sleep in over a year, I began to think. Obviously I couldn't just let my true feelings go outright. Firstly, I'd be fired from my job faster than you can say, "Would you like fries with that?" Then consider that in Texas, the first time I tell ANYONE I think George W. Bush is something of a bigot when it comes to gay and lesbian folks, I am either going to get shot or driven out of the state. And the next time Wendy's screws up my order, it's pretty much guaranteed I'd never be allowed to get a Frostie again. There had to be a better way.

OK, well, considering I've been working in the Internet medium since the mid-1990's, you'd think it wouldn't have taken me so long to think of this. What exactly is this? Well, it's a rant page, but because I have something of a journalistic background, it's not as free association as true rant pages. My "rants"--and I will continue to call them that simply because it fits on the nav buttons--are more like editorials from a newspaper, only not published in any recognized "professional" media. They would need a bit more polish, and I would need a few more connections, before they ever made it that far. At any rate, I'm quite content to showcase my opinions my own way.

Please note that the opinions expressed on this site are my own, and that it is my constitutional right to put them on display. Yes, I realize it is also your constitutional right to return a response; however I ask those with negative responses to please refrain from flaming me or sending me nasty emails. If you don't like me, fine. I would probably not like you either. But your flames and emails will go right into my trash folder. Do something more productive, start your own webpage and flame me there. At least then your opinion will have a chance to be acknowledged.

On to the ranting!

Anne O'Nimity