Did you hear that I’m whoring myself out for friends on Facebook? Well, I am. It all started over a patriotic slushee picture and then two people unfriended me. I mean, who unfriends over a red, white, and blue Coolatta? Commies, that’s who.  So, in the spirit of Independence and because I want to remain virtually cool regardless of how demoralizing whoring is, stick it to the Iron Curtain and go Rocky IV by friending me on Facebook.

As a feminist, I want to believe in the goodness of other women. I want to believe that, collectively, we can work together to create change, move toward progress, and empower, but then I get bitch slapped into reality.

That bitch slapping is happening right now. The Kid has been asked to leave her Girl Scout troop because I am difficult. And by difficult I mean I asked a question, then I asked another question, and then someone’s feelings got hurt because I didn’t want to be their friend.

If that makes absolutely no sense then I applaud you for being coherent, not a psycho, and of this planet.

I’ve sat on this for weeks. Yes, weeks. That’s how long it takes to figure out that per Girl Scout policy the Kid should be put into a hostile situation because two adults who do not act like adults promise to “treat child and family like any other child and family in the troop.”

If you need this reminder good luck with life.

Don’t get me wrong, I love volunteers but I hate assholes. I love women, but not the kind that will stab you in the back and then ask you to pay for the knife.

I feel especially icky when it involves 8 year-old girls and mine in particular.

8-year-olds, Dude.

I know I sound all hardass on here, but people are genuinely happy to see me. Unless you’re a Girl Scout leader.

I definitely need to add that qualifier.

Because right now it’s being said that I:

• am scheming with other parents to overthrow current leaders
• give dirty looks and not just when I’m farting
• antagonize volunteers
• ask questions

Does this not sound like Fight Club instead of Troop 666?

The idea that I would care enough to overthrow a scrapbooking collective is fucking ludicrous. If I’m going to overthrow anything, it’s Oprah and her world domination.

If I had a sharp pencil instead of the nub my kid calls a writing utensil, I would stab myself in the eye just to make sure I didn’t do something really terrible and end up in the 8th Circle of Hell: Girl Scout Drama.

This is the specialest level of torture whereby those destined for entry get to listen to non-stop cackles and high-pitched heathens blather on about rules and regs and patches. Then, clobber each other to death over the exact same things. But they never actually die. It goes on for eternity. Patches and trips and cookies and you won’t be my friend and this person said this and can you believe that and Lisa’s mom lives in a one bedroom and Pam’s mom only brought cookies and Girls! stop running and let’s take a picture and I don’t like you because red doesn’t match yellow and this is the purple and green troop because PURPLEANDGREEN ARE THE BESTEST COLORS EVER and we like what we like and we’re not going to change it. Repeat.

Welcome, it’s fucking hot in here.

I did not sign up for this. I mean, who in their right mind would do that? No one tells you that when you pass the cute little girls in the grocery store pushing cookies and calories that, in large part, the women behind them are swinging from the banana tree.  And that your kid will absolutely love it and you, as the mother, will be driven to the brink of insanity by women who spend their days creating elaborate fictional stories while not knowing — or probably not caring — that memoirs, unless you’re James Frey, should not be made up.

And that Fight Club is a movie with super hot dudes.

No, I didn’t sign up to get this pretty face mangled into contortions of seriously? I paid into some girl empowerment, which is in no way shape or form coming out. Diana Ross: you gotta sit this one out.

My daughter has me as an example: check. She has Girl Scouts for the time honored tradition of women fighting with one another at the cost of the bigger picture. Traditionalist patriarchy: Girl Scout check. Awesome shame on you: blog check.

Of course there are many wonderful and committed Girl Scout volunteers. I just haven’t met them. Also, this has nothing to do with the girls, who are amazing. And, if you are a committed volunteer or know one, share your story because after this hellish experience it doesn’t hurt.