Thankyoumony

I 'member girls camp. I 'member whens we'd sit 'round the fire, last day or so of the whole thing and thank alls our friends for being "such good friends." Forget the whole point of the week, the work, the effing crafts. I hated thankyoumony time. It t'wasn't about girls being nice or good or friends or such, for that matter. It was about who could cry most convincingly, get other girls to cry with them and then prove how popular they were and others weren't by inclusive/exclusive statements. I 'member girls thankyoumonying to my mom and I wanted to scream at them cuz they never knew her. They never took half a moment to try to know her because she wasn't the glamorous, raven-haired rich one, or the hilarious and gregarious one (rhyming makes me smile); she wouldn't further their hopes of being popular or well-liked, because, well, she was real and wouldn't bullshit with them. 

Well, bitches, she was better than you, me and alls yous will ever know. So today at our Thanksgiving feast, I was sooo hoping we wouldn't do the thankyoumony that usually goes along with it because I wouldn't speak. I had already planned not to speak. Right now, I'm not thankful.