Let’s face it, God. I haven’t been thinking about you much lately. It hasn’t been a very conscious decision…mostly my religious obsession turned into a baseball obsession. Sorry. The organization is as full of hypocrisy, corruption, and racism as your supposed organizations, but it’s a bit more exciting a lot of the time. Which is saying a lot, I think. What with eight minute wind-ups and meetings on the mound.
But, here’s the thing. I feel especially righteous lately. It’s family. Right? Which is ironic, since my family seems so fired up about worshipping you in these specific ways and everytime I deviate there’s a house-wide melt down. Is that ironic? I’m not going to bother making sure I’m using the word correctly. Anyway, I’ve been playing the aforementioned American pasttime with my little brother lately. We kick a lot of ass at hitting wiffle balls, and we’ve gotten up to 200 catches.
McKenzie is leaving to Thailand for the summer and has made up her will. I get her clothes and her car. I’m not that excited about the clothes, but she thinks I need a fashion improvement. My mom goes around wearing a velvet, purple jumpsuit because she doesn’t want to offend the parent that gave it to her. My dad answers the phone “Dick Cheney’s office” all the time because he thinks it pisses me off. Last night we watched the Jazz game together and had a conversation about tattoos. Madison wipes down her desk with wipes because she knows the stinky kid sits there the period before. Jessica stays in her room all day watching awesome movies she doesn’t want my mom to see her watching (i.e. Eraserhead).
So I know this is sappy and all, but I think they’re better than church.