the rock, the rock, the rock is on fire …
i’ve been kissing up like crazy to the boy who currently has The Rock and whose job it will be tomorrow to hand it on. The Rock is supposed to be a reward, passed from RA to RA at each weekday morning meeting. due to bad planning, however, there are more RAs than there are weekday mornings, so some of them/us will not get The Rock. some of them/us are a little bitter.
personally, i find these motivational things unmotivating. they incite a kind of knee-jerk anger from the angsty pre-teen in me. and, of course, that angsty, bitter pre-teen wants nothing so much as the appreciation she feels sure she will never attain.
so i’ve been kissing up like crazy to the boy who currently has The Rock. i just handed off my last diet coke. i’m willing to go farther. don’t ask how far. this is serious business. life with the losers is all right for some, all right for a while; it’s entertaining watching the wallowing, making the snide comments; but then you want to be on the flanders’ side of the pond, the side with all the light and rainbows and little furry animals. (“dad, you took a baptismal for me! how do you feel?”)
you want to be recognized for the small but constant contributions you make to the group: the snark, the increasing skill at Set, the occasional lectures about gender. come on! my girls think i’m cool. they said so, and i didn’t even have to put them at gunpoint. and one of the RAs called me genuine.
none of it matters so long as these “traditions” persist in honoring “overachievers.” well, fine. i can handle it. life with the losers isn’t so bad. we’ve been watching fine retro films like hackers, empire records, the craft, and heathers. i’ll bet the winners are too busy “planning things” and “making those things then happen” to do THAT. i pity them.
just, please, please. give me the goddamn rock.