Rangoooooooooooooooooooooooo.

 My Interpersonal Communications teacher asked us to write an essay this week. Normally that induces panic, but not for this class. We watched the movie Rango in class, and then wrote an essay about what character we relate to most, and why. One page.

This is my essay. (Note: this won't be funny if you haven't watched the movie. It's on Netflix. Go watch it.)

It’s hard to pick one character I can relate to in Rango. Obviously I liked Rango himself—he is funny, eccentric, insecure, and ultimately, heroic. If I wrote this paper at the age of thirteen or fourteen, I probably would have related to Rango the most. Thirteen and fourteen mark the beginning stages of insecurity, worries about self-worth, and questions of our identities and who we are. That is when we are stuck between staying the children we are, and the adults we want to be. Rango is definitely at such a position in his life. If I were at such a stage in mine, this paper would be about that. 

However, I have passed that particular stage and aspire to avoid it happening ever again. Being thirteen or fourteen was something that only occurred for about a year or two, and I found it didn’t suit me—thus I moved on, determined to never return.

I would love to write about how much I relate to the determined, passionate, heroic Rango, but honestly, I have never lied about killing seven brothers with one bullet, ridden a chicken past a blazing sunset, or had a showdown with a rattlesnake. I’ve never even owned a cowboy hat. Therefore, I would be ashamed to compare myself with this side of Rango.

After much consideration, prayer, tears, and sleepless nights (even considering the fact that we were assigned this on Tuesday with a Thursday due date…which would equal only two nights between then) I have evaluated the characters, examined their physical and mental qualities, printed out pictures of each character, blindfolded myself, and thrown darts with alarming vigor to make my choice. It’s been a long and arduous task, but I have finally made my decision. 

I relate most to the mariachi birds. No, I don’t wear a sombrero, my Spanish-speaking skills are nonexistent, and my guitar-playing abilities are even more so. But they like narrating stories, and so do I. They are an absolute hoot, and so am I. 

And most importantly, they think it’s really funny when characters die in stories, and so do I.