I Hate How People Have The Audacity To Disrespect Anyone In Show Choir/color Guard/theater/an Improv

I hate how people have the audacity to disrespect anyone in show choir/color guard/theater/an improv group. Like, sweaty… I don’t meant to be the bearer of bad news but they’re literally going to wait until you get into a horrible accident and yank on your exposed nerves. They are going to comfort your grandchildren when you succumb to your age. They are going to personally walk you down to hell to make sure the devil gets his lil’ disappointment back unscathed. You are not special. The performers will always come out on top.

Today, while drinking my coffee, I casually remarked that the ratio of Tiger King ornaments to actually religious ornaments on our tree is equal. My mother found this wildly amusing.

I also noted that the cross that is tearing at the seams (literally) hangs where the cats can reach and the Jesus fish (I don’t know what it’s actually called) is in the back, also in cat reach while Joe Exotic and Carol Baskin hang proudly at the to and in the center.

My mother seems to believe that the top is the safest part of the tree. She has seen many a tree fall and the top is the first to go. I explained that the middle sides were the safest and why, but to no avail.

Any way, if the tree were to fall, Joe and Carol would be the first to go and Jesus would survive.

(No one in my house is Christian or has been Christian in less than twenty years, so I don’t even know why we do Christmas.)

I lay here, in my bed, and I think about a very traumatic moment in my life that I think about a few times a month.

Sergei had recently graduated and she had a boyfriend. Shocking, I know, but we’re not at the scary part yet.

Said boyfriend would often leave Sergei gifts in her room. Her room is in the basement. The basement has a shared living room next to the Sergei room. I was in the living room. I am drawing something stupid for a friend and I hear what sounds like my mother walking down the basement stairs. I prepare myself to say something stupid and I make eye contact with a lanky, eighteen-year-old man child and he has the AUDACITY to say, “Boo,” and NORHING else. I was speechless.

I do not like the fact that that man child walks like my mother. Luckily, Sergei is no longer with him and it only happened once.

My phone recently updated and it’s giving me the time using a twenty-four hour clock. I am not too used to reading the time like that. So like the go-getter I am, I have been struggling to do basic addition and subtraction rather than just changing it back.

I have most definitely given myself carpal tunnel

In the sixth grade, I had a very religious teacher which was ironic because he was teaching evolution and ancient history and he kept making it seem like WE were the ones that homo habilis was offending.

When we got to Egypt, he told us we were watching a movie and we were all excited because we were eleven. The movie was The Prince of Egypt. And he kept pointing out a bunch of stuff that he didn’t agree with and said it was wrong, but we didn’t care. My eleven-year-old ass was having the time of my life with the Disney-esque animation and fabulous songs.

I just realized YESTERDAY that it was just a wee bit strange that we were watching the most religious DreamWorks movie ever in the same class that was teaching evolution a few months before.