Missy is the poo

Of all things to show on TV here, last night the movie Bring It On was showing, and since The Dad had gone to bed, Isabel chose it to watch. I wanted to die of embarrassment; first that my country ever made this movie in the first place, and secondly because I think it’s hilarious. Of course, the only things that are funny about it, you can’t appreciate unless you can relate to it in some way and yeah, I think the language is pretty funny, but of course that’s not translated. They only translate the substance of the story line, of which this particular movie is lacking if you were raised in a country that only watches soccer.

The title here is actually a line in the movie that I had forgotten about until last night (or that one of the main characters is named Missy), at which point I nearly peed on myself trying to hold in my laughter. I was rather relieved that they didn’t translate that line (among others) … I’m not sure it would translate with the same tone.

I’m tempted to tell a few of my 8th grade cheerleading stories … particularly our own lame attempt at a competing (needless to say, we had no idea what we were getting ourselves into). I only had one year of cheerleading glory days. I was head cheerleader actually. This distinction only privileged me with being the one that shouted “Ready” before every cheer, I truly have no other abilities required of a cheerleader beyond yelling and smiling. Anyway, I’m not sure our miserable failure of a competition would make for interesting reading … they were OH so much better after I “opted out” for the following year. I’m sure they all breathed a sigh of relief.

This little poo needs a nap. And dear God it has gotten so hot here the past few days. Probably God’s way of acclimating me before I return home.