Tonight at cheerleading practice I was supposed to pass the spirit stick on to next month’s winner, but I forgot to bring it.
The astute among you will notice that I never mentioned being awarded the spirit stick in the first place. This is because, after bending all my mental and psychic energies to ensuring that I would win the spirit stick for April, when I did, I instantly felt I didn’t deserve it. I’ve missed too many squad events, I can never go to the optional practices because I teach at the same time they’re held, and I can’t deal with going to the squad bonding nights because they’re all held in bars and I hate hate hate bars, and so when they said my name, instead of leaping up to accept the spirit stick with the pride and joy that should have come with the knowledge that I had beaten all my competitors into the ground, I was so miserable that I wanted to throw myself out the window and die.
I wonder if I will ever let myself enjoy anything.
Shit, baby – don’t mess with the mojo of the spirit stick! Didn’t you see Bring It On?!
I would imagine with a gay cheerleading team the spirit stick would have added Freudian significance. Maybe that’s why you don’t want to give it up?
The cheerless cheerleader. It’s poetic.
Do I need to bitchslap your ass…you won the friggin’ thing! You earned it bitch…
hey, never turn down a stick if it’s given to you…
Have you been to a bar since the smoking ban kicked in? They’re much more pleasant places, whether you’re drinking or not.
Did you actually want the spirit stick?
Makky, I wanted the spirit stick so much I would have traded my immortal soul to get it.
Who the hell wants a spirit stick? They’ve got “establishment” written all over them. How about a counter-culture stick? That I’d grab.