Over It
I am totally over the Hotel California.
I am totally over Mr. METY. He asked a question at 4:29 yesterday afternoon in our class that is supposed to end at 4:30 and just would not stop talking and I was trying to keep my nostril-flaring under control but instead said, out loud, "Jesus Christ" and then sighed loudly. Totally unyogic, but shit was getting ridiculous.
I am totally over the Girl Who Hates India (I've avoided posting about her until now, but her basic trip is that everything about India is gross, or weird, and she makes a lot of what Nancy describes as "the gas face"--when you scrunch up your nose like "Who farted?" except this girl does it all the time, that is, when she's not interrupting your conversations with others or telling you about her ex-fiance).
I knew I couldn't handle her any longer when her thong was totally hanging out over the top of her pants during morning practice and usually I would've said, "Hey, tuck your undies in" but I just couldn't find it in my heart to be nice. At breakfast, Priya was taking pledges to donate to a medical clinic nearby, and I tucked some money in her pocket and the GWHI asked me how much I gave. I--kindly, I thought--told her it was none of her business, that I gave the amount I thought was appropriate (tzedakah, y'all!) and she got Very Huffy and said, "Fine! I won't ask. I'm sorry!" and then carried on like I'd bitch-slapped her, stolen her lunch money, and spit on her shoes. I could've said "I didn't mean it like that" but didn't have the energy to get into her crazy passive-aggressive zone, so instead I just walked down the street, waved to some kids, found my way to the internet cafe and here I type.
Is this a sign that I am officially, as Melissa would put it, a BLOGGER? Oh, man.
I am totally over Mr. METY. He asked a question at 4:29 yesterday afternoon in our class that is supposed to end at 4:30 and just would not stop talking and I was trying to keep my nostril-flaring under control but instead said, out loud, "Jesus Christ" and then sighed loudly. Totally unyogic, but shit was getting ridiculous.
I am totally over the Girl Who Hates India (I've avoided posting about her until now, but her basic trip is that everything about India is gross, or weird, and she makes a lot of what Nancy describes as "the gas face"--when you scrunch up your nose like "Who farted?" except this girl does it all the time, that is, when she's not interrupting your conversations with others or telling you about her ex-fiance).
I knew I couldn't handle her any longer when her thong was totally hanging out over the top of her pants during morning practice and usually I would've said, "Hey, tuck your undies in" but I just couldn't find it in my heart to be nice. At breakfast, Priya was taking pledges to donate to a medical clinic nearby, and I tucked some money in her pocket and the GWHI asked me how much I gave. I--kindly, I thought--told her it was none of her business, that I gave the amount I thought was appropriate (tzedakah, y'all!) and she got Very Huffy and said, "Fine! I won't ask. I'm sorry!" and then carried on like I'd bitch-slapped her, stolen her lunch money, and spit on her shoes. I could've said "I didn't mean it like that" but didn't have the energy to get into her crazy passive-aggressive zone, so instead I just walked down the street, waved to some kids, found my way to the internet cafe and here I type.
Is this a sign that I am officially, as Melissa would put it, a BLOGGER? Oh, man.
posted by Rebecca at 10:38 PM
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