Hey, you. Guy in the sky. Are you there? Mom says I should pray to you and listen intently for a response.
So. OK. Here’s the deal. BL snapped my bra today as I was walking into school. He was waiting for me, and he did it in front of everybody. He laughed as I turned red and tried to not cry. He picks on me almost every day. Sixth grade is hard enough. Can you please put a pox on him? Not a lethal or fatal one, mind you–just one that would make him leave me alone?
Oh, and while you’re at it, could you please make JB notice me? I’ve had a crush on him since first grade, and I’m getting a little tired of waiting for him to notice me.
And, can you make the other kids stop teasing me as well? I know I am fat. I don’t need them to call me “Minnesota Fats” to remind me. Why did my parents have to name me after a state, anyway? I just know they love my brother better because they gave him a normal first name.
Minna. Who names their kid after a state? That’s just wrong. I get to hear all the derivations.
Minnesota. Minneapolis. Minnehaha. Minnie Mouse. Mini-Apple. Minnetonka.
Those are some of the nicer ones.