Cinco de Mayo

Greetings.

Happy Cinco de Mayo, peoplez! I learned today why Cinco de Mayo is such a big deal to Mexicans. Apparently, they won an impossible battle against the best army in the world at that point, the French, in only a few hours. Seriously, the battle started at, like, seven in the morning and ended around four. Amazing! Suck it, France.
Today is also Bennie's anniversary. But not with Stan. No, she was fake married by the Spanish teacher for Cinco de Mayo, a popular booth at our food sale day. And guess who stopped by today? Her "husband", Roland Glibb. Roland used to go to our school, Horizon High School, home of the Argonauts, until he transferred. He considers me his little sister and, despite his little sisters wishes, he's going into the armed forces as a Marine. (Semper Fi. Candidly, I don't really support the war, mainly because I have never been sure what it is about, but I support the men fighting in it. They are just doing their duty.) He now works for a carpet cleaning company and I hardly ever get to see him. So when he stopped by, we sat out on my front lawn (because no one else was home) and talked for about half an hour. It was nice to talk to him.
I also talked to my cousin today. Ginger Overstreet is my dad's sister's son's daughter. The irony: she's a year and six days older than I am. Yet I'm like her second aunt twice removed or something. We just say cousin because that is SOOO much easier. Anyways, she comes to visit us almost every summer and ever since last summer, when she met Roland at my birthday party, we haven't spoken much. She talks to him more than she does to me. She doesn't text, email, Facebook, MySpace... nothing. It's not easy, and she's my cousin, and I love her very dearly, but she taught me a lot. I was always the more sheltered of the two of us; private school, strict self-discipline, very rigid morals. She's not loose like, I don't know, a stirpper or anything, but she had a lot more worldly experience than I did. (But, then again, so did Mother Teresa.) I miss talking to her...
Okay, I'm done moaning about my familial problems with Ginger. (Love you, cousin!) Now I shall moan about choir. We're performing "Don't Stop Believing" from GLEE. Fine. Kudos to Mr. Privett. But he gave the solo to a girl, Louisa Tyler, who, although she is a very nice girl and a good singer, can't sing this particular song. She puts the sound "ee" on the end of each word and she doesn't open her mouth enough to enunciate properly for this song. I am still pissed about Mary June getting the TWO solos and with Louisa getting a solo that I performed better than she, I am just not happy. I am seriously considering not doing choir next year. I am tired of being second best, tired of NEVER getting the parts in plays or solos that I want/deserve. There has only been ONE time that I received the part that I wanted and that was after working eight years with the same theater company. I am SICK of not getting what I deserve fairly. It's always the director's favorites who get the good parts (don't you even TRY to contradict me, Claire) and I get the supporting roles. I SAVE everyone else in the show and it always, except once, has gone unnoticed. I don't get leads. If it's because of my weight, then they are basing their decisions on appearances and not by the quality of the work I produce. And, though everyone does it, it doesn't make it any less wrong.
Ugh, I am just so frustrated, I want to punch something!

Punchez,
HM