HOW DARE YOU. I'm supposed to be on break. I'm minding my own business, sitting with pumpkin pancakes my mom had ready for me before I even woke up. My little black puggle, Boo, who just had surgery to remove a boil from her right hamstring, (do you feel guilty yet?!?!?) almost busted her stitches when after checking twitter, I threw her off of me in a fit in a rage and yelled "THATS IT." Congratulations to my enemies. You did it. The bear has been poked, the straw has broken the camels back and I am in full 20 minute post cappuccino RIOT FORM.
To fill those in who may not be aware of what's going on: Yesterday afternoon I was flying home for the days we have off during the FIFA window. Totally separate issue, but I was wound up on the plane after the woman sitting next to me asked me to turn down my headphones. Not a big deal, I get it, it's annoying. But wanna know what is a big deal to me? When "GIMME GIMME GIMME a Man After Midnight" by ABBA comes on 15 minutes later, and you tap me on the shoulder, grinning at me with pretzels in your teeth and eek out "you can actually turn this one up."
This was, without a doubt, the most OUTRAGEOUS move I've seen pulled on an airplane in my 24 years of existence. Never seen such an absurd display of disloyalty. PICK A SIDE. Your either team "can you turn those down (wormy face)" or team put on your own headphones, turn them up loud and deal with it. You want to have your cake and eat it too? NOT ON MY WATCH HONEY.
So how does this tie in? She riled me up. And what do I do when I'm riled up? I buy wifi and tweet things about my personal life that happened earlier in the day. #CopingSkills
Most people took it for what it was, a joke, liked/ retweeted it, further pushing Gina (follow on Instagram, you won't regret it) up the ranks as the most popular parent in professional women's sports, and moved on for the day.
But of course, my enemies couldn't help themselves. Just like the your/you're and croptop police, they crawled out of the woodwork insisting that its embarrassing my parents still pay for my phone. I could go on for a long time, but I'll keep it pretty basic:
- It's not about the money. It's about the hassle. I could have invented Facebook and mark my words, I wouldn't be driving to the Verizon store.
- It actually is way cheaper to be on the family plan. Sorry for being fiscally responsible and having a personal finance budget way beyond my years.
- Technically, I actually am supposed to be paying for my own cell phone. Before I left for Chicago, I told my mom I'd Venmo her the money every month instead of getting my own plan because like I said, ITS CHEAPER.
- ADMISSION: every time she calls to ask me where the money is I don't answer, and text her asking if paying a collection agency to come to my apartment in Chicago will cost more than the $30 for my line. Cancelling my line isn't an option for her, because then I wouldn't have Instagram, and if I don't have Instagram, she doesn't get as many comments, and we all lose. My mom's tough, but she's not insane. She's not gonna cut off her nose to spite her face.
I've received a lot of negative tweets since turning pro and have literally never responded to a single one. "She dribbles in circles, has no idea whats going on around her, has no left foot, and can't hit the back of the barn." I'm not saying these comments make me happy, but, ugh, sometimes I do start sweating when I have to rewatch my backpost service on film. BUT THE FAMILY PLAN? I have absolutely 0 to give in the compromise department on this. Only a lunatic would suggest that under my own accord, I should have driven to the Verizon store and paid more for the hassle of having my own cell phone while I'm still young enough to have soccer ball pillow cases in my room at home.
And you want to know what's just dawned on me? You guys are all the same. All my enemies: the grammar people, the crop top haters, the "can you turn your earphones down" people, and the family plan haters. I'm done. I'm going rogue. If Sam wants to fire me, so be it. I'll start my own website called Evil Chic and eventually lure Kristie over using big words she doesn't understand and Free People gift cards. LET THE RECORD STATE: an enemy of any of the above is no friend of mine, and if I find out you try to by a water bottle or cutoff tank, I'm halting the order right in its tracks. I'll give $30 to company out of my own pocket that I saved from my mother paying for my cell phone.