Adventures of Ari

Chapter One: The Rise of the Reject

It could be said that I have been missing for two weeks. Only Lord knows where I have been, who I have seen. Well, the Lord and those who have been there when I have seen them, if that makes any sense at all. But I haven't forgotten all those that have read my words, been there through my butt woes and my pinkalicious phase. Nay, I haven't forgotten. So, where have I been? Let me tell you, oh yes, let me tell you all...

And so, our wondrous beautiful goddess-like heroine (that would be me) found herself between a rock and a hard place. You see, the kick-ass reject of society in me would like to tell people what I think of them straight up, but the soft inner core of my being says that I should just let them be. In the end, the reject won -- it wasn't a fair fight, really, as the reject tricked the soft inner core into looking the other way before kicking its butt. You know how it goes.

Now, let me just say that for the most part I like people to be who they are. I really do. Unless they are completely idiotic fools who have no grasp of what it is like to walk in another person's shoes. In this case, I find that these idiotic fools need to be taken down a peg or two or ten. And so, when the lady wouldn't shut up or let me get a word in edge-wise, I finally snapped a bit and said, "MA'AM. I UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU'RE SAYING, WE JUST CAN'T DO THAT." I was a bit loud. I'm pretty sure an irritated expression exploded across my face. After I slammed the phone down, the long line of people that were awaiting the end to that particular phone call cheered and giggled and said, "Man, I feel for you." And I, being the goddess that I am, projected a telepathic thought to all of them: YOU ARE ALL NOW MY MINIONS. But somehow, it came out as, "Hehehe, have a nice day!" I'm starting to think my evil side is none other than that of a giggly japanese cartoon character. (Can I at least get one of those permanent tear drops that display whenever a japanese cartoon is worried or scared? Please?)

This whole taking over the world thing would go so much easier if people would just get the hell out of my way. So, I thought to myself, "How can I make this ascension go much faster?" The answer was simple, really. I got myself promoted. But it's me, we're talking about. So, as luck would have it, I somehow stole a job right out from under the more senior employees at my job, all the while managing to change my schedule to hours that only roosters and bluebirds keep, at that same time managing to NOT get a pay raise. God, I am good. Fear me.

The truth is that I don't care about money. I can afford to not care about money, because I am spoiled and selfish. I get everything I want, anyway. The real reason I do so well is because I love when people adore me. If I think that my actions could make me the apple of someone's eye, I will do it. I love to be be adored. I'm pretty sure this is why old people love me. And that's okay, because I love them, too. We have a common bond, we do. They are old, so they can get away with almost anything. And I am me, so I can, too.