The Hit List - Sister Sister

I’ll never forget the day my little sister was born. I was in the hospital with a broken leg (in traction at age two – fun times!) when mom was giving birth.

She came down to show her to me. Pink cheeked perfection with a shock of dark hair. And then, she left with her and I was stuck in bed with a leg in the air.

After that not-so-great introduction, it was my mission to get things back to my liking. Which meant trying to get rid of her by throwing centipedes and spiders in her crib (to this day, my sister has a phobia about bugs and I am probably the blame). I also attempted to pick her up and toss her to the ground but alas, she was too heavy. I was stuck with her.

Once she got done being a baby (which I considered rather useless at my sage toddler age), she grew on me. From that point forward, we were thick as thieves for a long, long time. There was no better playmate for Barbies, board games, and giggling under the covers at night.

As most sisters do, we’ve had our ups and downs. Unfortunately, a lot of downs. The last time we went down, it felt like we tumbled into a dark, cockroach filled ravine that we would never be able to climb out of (yeah, it was that icky).

To say that separation was painful is an understatement. It was like having a core part of me ripped out of my body, tore into a million tiny pieces and set on fire.

Years passed without a word. That was my choice. It needed to be.

My wall of ice was protective and difficult to climb. I am known for my talent to freeze people out, and once that happens, it’s usually permanent.

But blood is hot and sticky and it runs deep underground. That blood that binds my sister and was warm enough to melt my frosty fortress and we healed The Gaping Four Year Wound. We’ve been back together like a patched up Liz and Burt (she’s glamorous and gorgeous, so she’s Liz. I’m the better drinker of the two, so I get to be Burt.)

We’re back to giggling like those little girls from so long ago once again (amazing how we always go right back to being kids, eh?). Only this time, we’ve moved on from Barbies and are busy tittering over Game of Thrones (other similarities run deep too).

To my sister, I love you like no other.

Merci.

Other stuff:

This post by Chris Arnade asks why are donors more likely to help out a cat than an addict? That’s a damn good question.

Interesting photos of retired sex workers in Mexico City from photographer Benedicte Desrus.

Would you eat yourself? This Norwegian artist ate his hip. And he said it tasted like sheep. OMG.

My daughter sent me a link to this hilarious site: …and now it’s a fucking froyo place. And why the heck are all these frozen yogurt shops taking over New York? Are people that crazed over this frosty treat?

Apparently long hair gives you powers. In that case, my husband must be super human (he has hair down to his butt).

I’m enjoying this Kindle ebook, True Tarot Card Meanings: Learn the Secrets of Professional Readers! from Andrea Green. It’s only $2.99, peeps.

Sex reassignment surgeries are now covered under Medicare. This is a huge step forward for transgender people. It’s about time.

I’m attending my nephew’s First Communion this weekend. My sis married an Italian so this promises to be a big affair. These people do it up with style. I’m wearing motorcycle boots. Looks like I’m going to be waaaayyyyy underdressed! Ha!

What I’m Grateful For:

Funny nephews

Tapas

Perfect travel weather

Entertaining cats who use gardens as personal litter boxes

Fresh water

Sunshine streaming in from my hotel window

Earplugs

Soundtrack for 5/31/14: “My Sister” by Juliana Hatfield Three