I hate my 10 brothers

All of my stoopid college friends still keep in touch. We have this stoopid ListServe where we can email one address and everyone gets it. Most of the stoopid emails are dedicated to stoopidly analyzing sports, tv shows... Wait that not true. We mostly just try to out-wit each other, make fun of each other for stoopid things we did in college, and say mean things about our former professors. (And when I say "professors", that is actually code for "other theatre majors that we disliked for no good reason".)

Ok, so we're all a bunch of assholes.

And now my fellow assholes know that I have a blog, and they read it. And the boys make fun of it, and misinterpret it, and put snarky remarks in the comment box that I'm always afraid that the anonymous readers will take seriously and think I'm lame. Then I call them on it, and they make fun of me even more and refuse to stop.

Gosh.

It's like having ten brothers or something. The more they tease me and piss me off, the more I tell myself to just ignore it. Which of course never works. So then I stew and get mad and plot ways to stop them. Then someone says something funny and I laugh and get mad at myself for laughing. I hate these guys, remember?

But then I do remember. I love these guys. It feels like we've known each other forever. They've always loved me, and thought I was pretty - even in college when I had really bushy eyebrows. And thought I was funny - even when I was in that horrible contact improv show called "Conic Sections". And thought I was smart - even when I blow the final question in Trivial Pursuit. And supported me - even when I've had no clue what I was doing with my life.

Just like real brothers, I guess. Thanks, guys. I love you too. And I'll pay you back for the snarky comments by posting embarrassing pictures. Just like a real sister would.