The loudest fly in the world is buzzing around me. Bother.
And since July 34th is almost upon us, I thought I'd share my 'still mad' story.
Now, those of you who read this probably know me well enough to know that I'm not generally the kind of person who gets (or especially stays) mad very often, so this writing assignment was a bit of a challenge. But I've got something, boy howdy.
So it begins... during my childhood, and moreso during my adolescence, I didn't ask for, nor receive very many material things from my dad. I didn't have a lot of clothes, books, music, whathaveyou. This was fine. (Well, mostly, but that I'm over.)
What I'm not over, is that, while on a family trip to Canada (Toronto) and Nigara Falls, the one thing I wanted and received was an Edie Brickell t-shirt. Anyone not familiar with Edie should not tell this to me, because I think she's awesome. At the time, I thought she was the MOST AWESOME. Therefore: this is a shirt that was rather important to me. It was the Shooting Rubber Bands at the Stars album cover, and I loved it.
That is why I'm still mad that one day the shirt disappeared. (This is not the sad part.) Said shirt reappeared several weeks later, while I was folding laundry. It had, however, been disfigured. My brother decided that he didn't have enough football-pad covering shirts of his own, so stole my beloved t-shirt, cut the bottom (and much of the art) off, and was using it for scrimmages. Now, as much as I love football, this was by far not the first shirt of mine to suffer this fate, but certainly the most important, and even I don't love football that much. To this day, it makes me want to a. cry and b. risk another broken nose attempting to pound his little face in.
That is my entry - and I'm currently tied with Plinko for most posts today.