Two Tears in a Bucket-Mother Fuck It
Out of boredom and a general frustration I decided to drink a bottle of wine and organize my bookcase-because I am not a loser in any sense of the word. I stumbled upon my collection of old journals and honest to god, it was an entry from the same day eleven years ago when I was in 6th grade.
“Well, I survived Valentine’s Day. I got six carnations (all white) from Al, Andrew, Beth and Kristin Chris, Clare, Hannah. I have a solo for contest, everyone says I’m good, but I really don’t think so. I hate the fact that in two in a half months I’ll be dealing with summer…blah blah blah is how the school year has been socially and academically.”
- Note one carnation was from Beth and Kristin.
- Does it creep these people out to know I wrote their names down in my journal?
- I totally knew I was going to rock that solo at contest (and I did). I was fishin’ and just expected my journal to be all like “No, no, no, no Gwynne, you are being like so crazy. You are SO the best singer in the school-no the UNIVERSE!”.
- Hell yaw, I hated summer. Not sweating is still very important to me.
- The analysis of the social and academic aspects of the school year is a tiny glimpse of the douche I was.
The next entry starts with “ My Grandma and Grandpa are here. They are the COOLEST Grandparents!”