So, Missy and I were IM’ing today because I got all, “WTF? DON’T YOU LOVE ME ANYMORE?!?!?” in an e-mail with her. She was feeling the same way about me, so we had to have some real-time loving. But I digress.

I was telling her about how I feel so…stuck lately. She pointed out to me that I’d stopped writing as Steph and started writing like other bloggers. Okay, what she actually said was that I’d stopped vomiting whatever was in my head and started writing like I thought a blogger should. Hee. Still cracking me up.

I realized she was absolutely right, and I’m not sure why I chose to do that. So. I’m going to go back to leaving my mentral detritus out there for the whole world to see. Like it or lump it, but I’m thinking you’ll like it, my poppies. I’m hoping you’ll like it.

So, on that note, on to a rant…
Lenna’s cheerleading deal is really irking the crap out of me. First, we had to pay money for registration. Then money for a uniform. Then money for a hairbow which is included in the uniform, except not since our team is having “special” hairbows. Then money for a “cheer bag” to carry her poms in. Now it’s more money for the uniform since they underestimated the cost.

WTF? These are kids — seven and eight year olds, to be precise. This isn’t competitive in any way. We’re not prepping these girls to go to nationals. Why on Earth am I shelling out this kind of dough for that stuff? What pisses me off even more is that they’re not learning stunts or gymnastics at all, either — you know, the stuff that will actually come in handy should Lenna decide to get into competitive cheerleading later on.

And yet, my dumb ass is going to pay it and be at every game. Why? Because the girl loves it, and she’s actually pretty good at it. Just kill me now, please.