Sunday, December 7

It's hard to be this vulnerable. I spend my time pretending poemd are written for me even when I know they aren't. So what if my name isn't Maria? My name could always be Maria.

I volunteer to teach Xtina about sports for when she marries that Harvard meathead. As with most things it is a matter of language and logic. Learn the language first. "Pooch kick" the ball, down it at the one-yard line. Run the clock down. It's as easy as pie.*

It is important to note here that Xtina is not marryinga Harvard meathead anymore than the poems I have been reading are about me. If she were to do so, however, her being a master of language and logic would certainly help her understand sports.

James says this sounds mean. I certainly don't mean it to be. If anything I am looking to convert another girl to the world of football. And baseball. And real football. Or just to hang out with Xtina more.

*I also volunteer to teach Xtina how to bake pie.

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