Who here has ever felt personally victimized by Regina George?

When I was 12 years old, to put it in the simplest of terms, I was what some would refer to as a mean girl. I know what you’re thinking… oh no I’m sure she was just young and probably very sweet. Well, that would be incorrect because like most middle school girls in sixth and seventh grade, I was exercising my right to act like a four foot tall demon with bangs. Uneven bangs I might add. I’m not sure if the average male is aware but girls between the ages of 11 and 14 spend these years waging war… against enemies, friends, cats, dogs, low flying airplanes, really anything they can get their hands on.

During the sixth grade, back when rocking Adidas indoor soccer shoes made you cool (pretty sure it still does), I was best friends with two girls in my class, Amber and Janelle. It might be better to say I was only friends with one of them at a time as we spent most of that year ganging up on the third person on a weekly basis. One week Janelle and I were so over being friends with Amber. I mean, she talked to Frank in the hall without consulting us - WHAT was she THINKING?! The following week Amber and Janelle would, oh so rationally, decide that their friend plates were full so I wasn’t needed. Then a few days later, Amber and I remembered that Janelle had a pink lava lamp in her room and so did Amber, which obviously meant Janelle was trying to copy her and that was absolutely. unacceptable. YOU HAVE BEEN SHUNNED JANELLE!

This went on for most of the year and also included several if not many angry hand written notes passed back and forth between the three of us. These notes were always folded into neat little shapes like footballs, for obvious reasons of course. They also included many very deep meaningful questions such as, “Why would you wear those pink socks when you knew I wanted to buy a pair of pink socks?” and “Did you three way call Bobby last night without asking me first?.” Little did SHE know Bobby made eye contact with me TWICE in the hallway yesterday which most likely means he’s in love with me. So suck on that!

Seventh grade didn’t get much better. I made the HORRIFYING mistake of buying a jazzy pair of red patent leather Airwalks from none other than the Contempo Casuals (which sold a variety of ‘wash this once and it will disintegrate immediately’ styles of clothing). I was unaware that Jenna, whom I was not great friends with, had also purchased this exact same pair of sparkling shoes. I was also not aware that we would wear them on the very same day in the very same math class in two desks next to each other. Although, she matched hers with a pair of, what I’m assuming were, very expensive black pleather pants so she probably looked much cooler than I did.

All I know is later that day, Bobby told Sarah who told Sally who told the principal who told the janitor that Jenna said I bought my shoes because I wanted to be like her. Really Jenna? Do I? DO I?! WELL MAYBE I DID! Maybe I wanted my own pair of black pleathery pants to crunch around school in too. Or maybe I just liked the god damn shoes and your 11 year old ass is CRAZY! So why don’t you take your black curly hair and your stupid pink backpack and SHOVE IT!

Ahem, sorry I lost control for a minute there. I’m counting to 5… ok, I’m ok now.

I don’t know if boys act irrationally at this age also but I’m fairly certain they aren’t conniving little gremlins like girls are. If Michael took Henry’s soccer ball Henry would just punch Michael in the stomach after gym class and be done with it. If Melissa took Amy’s soccer ball Amy would start a rumor that Melissa made out with her dog over the weekend and LIKED IT! And Amy doesn’t even play soccer!

So why are girls so mean? Why don’t we take out our aggression in other ways? Personally, I would suggest instead of talking behind each others backs we just beat the shit out of each other on a weekly basis. How about Wednesdays at 7pm? Or would 8pm work better? If girls thought more like boys it might make our every day lives a whole lot easier.  If you go for that promotion I want I am going to come to your house and I am going to cut you Melissa. And I’d mean it too.

So how about it? I’m pretty small ladies, but I’m fiesty so BRING IT ON… sluts.