Tuesday, May 25, 2010

things that gross me out: round 1

Hi fashionable sister,

First off, thanks for making me look all snazzy in that motorboard up there. You look pretty cute in your hat, too. If I only I would actually look like that tomorrow ... and now that I've tried my regalia on, I just want to know - why do we have to sport the hoods if we don't actually get to wear them on our heads? They just look like dino tails, poking out like that in the back.

Anyway ... and unrelatedly ... I thought you should know that, while getting ready to leave Boston, I compiled the following list of things that grossed me out in my three years there:
1. blisters
2. cigarettes
3. how pantry moth larva look SO MUCH like cooked rice
4. the oil that congeals around kalamata olives when you leave the jar in the fridge too long
5. leggings worn as pants

Now, I've spared you photos on all the rest, but I do have some visual evidence for this last one:

Please notice the following:
-cargo pants are the "black sheep" of the family; no one is really sure how they got into the "every day use" side of the family
-some offspring appear to be so closely related that they are often mistaken for each other (kind of like you and me). See: micro/mini skirt, short shorts and cut offs, etc.
-some offspring have spawned further offspring: panties, for example, now exist in a refreshing variety of options, of which I have here only indicated two.
-some offspring have spawned further offspring with each other, "boxer briefs" being the prime (incestuous) situation.
-some offspring look like they belong to one family, when they are actually part of another (as in, someone was sleeping with the mailman ...) Skorts, for example.
Oh, and leggings. LEGGINGS ARE NOT PANTS.

It has now been definitively proven.
your about-to-be-hood-and-motorboard-ed sister

Monday, May 24, 2010

There is so much less time when you plan ahead!

Dear Smart Sister,

This post will be short because, well, I planned ahead. I thought you might get a kick out of this-- a brief run through of my day with SuperTiger yesterday:

10am: I went and jumped on his bed, demanding to know how prom was. "Mmmhm" was the response that I got, followed by "I'm sweaty, I was too tired to shower last night." He is, in fact, both our father's son and all too familiar with how to keep sisters away.

1pm: Attempt number 2.
Me: ST, get up.
ST: *grumble, grumble*
Me: Are we going to Cute Dancer Prom Date's recital?
ST: Yes.
Me: Then get up. It's 1pm (recital is at 2). You need to shower.
ST: We need to go get her flowers.
Me: Well you don't have a car.
ST: WHAT?! Why not?
Me: Have you bought one yet?
ST: I thought someone would leave me one.
Me: They left the standard so I have to drive you (note to self: teach ST to drive standard). So get up, if you want to get flowers we need to leave at 1:30 which means you need to get in the shower NOW.
ST: Oh, yeh, that's true. Ugh. There is so much less time when you plan ahead!

1:58: Flowers in hand, me and ST walked into the Lawrence School auditorium, paid for our tickets and sat down.
ST: See, plenty of time. I planned it this way.
Me: Uhh, what's Cute Dancer Prom Date's last name?
ST: McDancer.
Me: Yeah, she isn't on the program.

Turns out...wrong recital. Fortunately, the mom doing the tickets gave me back our money, we jumped into the car, hurried out to Mashpee High School where the Turning Pointe recital was going on. Yes, Turning Pointe. Where I used to dance. No, no one told me she was a Turning Pointe girl or I would have known where the recital was. I'm not saying anything, all I'm saying is, I'm just saying...

Anyway, the last gem of the day from SuperTiger was this: We were sitting in the auditorium watching Cute Dancer Prom Date (who is a freaking gorgeous dancer, by the way) and...
ST: Hey, wanna know something cool?
Me: Sure.
ST: Cute Dancer Prom Date was the prettiest girl at the prom. And I'm not the only one who thought so.

AHHHH. It's a good thing he is so cute, keeps me from throwing him out a window when we end up in the wrong recital and such. Don't tell him I told you any of this, obviously.

Speaking of there being less time when you plan ahead, I have really got to get going or I won't be ready when you get here. Still got to grab my laundry, pack for a few days and run over to GMa's. If I'm not there, please come drive around til you find me, I'm probably lying on the side of the road somewhere trying to get the pollen out of my throat.

your slightly allergic, running late because I had too much fun drawing the congrats picture, super proud of you sister (and working on organizing the camera thing, I promise),


Sunday, May 16, 2010

master's degree + birthday = camera?

Dear my beautiful, wonderful, talented sister,

The card was delivered successfully yesterday, along with an autographed headshot of Strongdad's favorite actress. I met Strongdad and Grandmother at the MFA, after they got through the Egyptian exhibit, of course. Grandmother wanted to know if even talk of Egyptian art would creep me out, because she wanted to discuss the little wooden statues. I tried to explain that first, it's not all Egyptian art that creeps me out, mostly just coffins behind glass along with anything else that may have lain in them. And so second, I'm happy to talk about the small wooden statues, only since I haven't been in an Egyptian art exhibit since I was very little, I don't know what they look like and so I don't have much to say.

Strongdad is sorry that he took us to see the Egyptian exhibit when we were so little, especially because he thought he was doing something good for us and instead we've been traumatized for life. I'm not sure that the childhood visit is to blame; you were barely one, right? (I date most things from our childhood by what stage of divorce our parents were in.) Anyway, I think it's perfectly healthy that the idea of putting a coffin on view in a glass case creeps us both out.

Unrelatedly: if this blog thing is going to work, I think I need a camera. Due to both my impending graduation and upcoming birthday, and the fact that we have four parents and plenty of grandparents, I think it is totally reasonable for everyone to go in together on a present for me. So that I can take lots of pictures for you, obviously.

I leave this matter in your capable hands.

Your shameless sister

Saturday, May 15, 2010

Dear Sister,

It's StrongDad's birthday! When you see him today, can you give him this picture/card thingey? And also maybe a notebook or something, it's almost time for him to start writing again.

More to come soon, I promise. SuperTiger Brother woke me up this morning (at 9am! I didn't even know he was capable of being awake that early) and asked me to meet him "in Queens" or at the start of the Brooklyn Bridge...I agreed to the second one. So now I've got to go get up and going, but I will write soon. Things to tell you about (like the dog with dreads, yes DREADS, that I see when I run in Riverside Park).


Sunday, May 9, 2010

an appropriate use of technology

Hi smart sister,

I consider the following to be inappropriate uses of the technology of communication:
  • texting someone while standing at their door
  • chain letters
  • pig-latin
  • cell phone conversations while on a train or bus
  • GPS, when used to get from home to work and back again
  • automated telemarketing
  • having your homework faxed to you in 3rd grade because you forgot it at the other parent's house
  • emails with only one sentence
That last one brings me to my real point in this post: I think your idea for a blog is a good one. Many, many times during the day I think of things I want to tell you. Writing you a letter would be a good idea, but I rarely make myself sit down and do it. Instead, I end up checking my email, remember that one funny thing I overheard or beautiful thing I saw or bizarro thought I had, realizing you are the only person who could adequately appreciate how funny/beautiful/bizarro it truly was, and then emailing it to you as though it were a note I was passing you in seventh grade. (We were never in seventh grade together, obviously, but you get the idea.)

Writing a blog post reminds me a lot of writing a note. It must concisely fit on one page but has room enough for a whole story. It can be wordy, or contain doodles, or enclose pictures or other ephemeralia of life. It can be about anything, or nothing. And since it can be intercepted by anyone, it must (as with all good notes) use code, pseudonym, and other forms of abbreviated insider knowledge. In short, I think blogs are the new hand-crafted, passed-under-the-desk, written-in-purple-ink-and-folded-into-intricate-origami-contraptions, notes.

Since we stopped living together when I was twelve and you were eight I have always wanted to share the world with you again. I've squeezed bits and pieces into emails and envelopes, bombarded you with blurry cell phone photos, collected bits of magazines and made you collages, crafted intricate stick figure cartoons at which you could roll your eyes. Every day I come up with something new you should know about. (Yesterday it was men wearing leggings as pants - more on that later.)

Today I would like to tell you this: I think this blog is a good idea, and an appropriate use of technology.

your luddite sister

Friday, May 7, 2010

To blog or not to blog?

Dear Sister,

Reasons we should start a blog (other than because we both think the phrase "a stylistic dingbat" is awesome):

because we crack us up.
because tights are not leggings.
and leggings are not pants.
because we were posting too often on each other's facebook.
because our family is...well...you know.
because we may never finish our comma.
because it doubles as a birthday present for StrongDad.
because this stuff is too good to forget.
because we're trying to keep our sanity.
because if you miss an exit, you'll end up in Fall River.
because nobody will hand me a chair.
because this grown up work thing is boring, blogging to you is more fun.
because you don't have unlimited texting anymore.
because you would also wear bright green frog face googgley eyed rain boots.
because you don't have to know how to spell to blog (woohoo).
because we're funny. Or at least, we think so.