Dearest Sister

Surprise! I'm not only going to talk about you, but I'm going to TALK TO YOU right on THIS WEBSITE and the WHOLE WORLD CAN SEE IT. You know, the world, right? Oh man, the words that must be coming to your mind. "Oh My Gawd!" I'm not going to mention to the world about that funky growth you asked me about or recount the nitty gritty details of your sex life*. See? You should be proud. Are you sweating yet? Remember, your coworker referred to me as the Spawn of the Devil. I have a reputation to live up to now. And I would like to personally thank you for influencing your coworkers to have such a high opinion of me as well. You're a swell sister.

Okay, sarcasm aside. Since I'm leaving on your birthday for a semi-life-changing potential job & you STOLE Mom from me, I wanted to make SURE you felt extra special on your birthday. You kind of tend to hold grudges like the jaws of life, so I thought if I couldn't be a part of your day, then I would have to show my love in a new, dramatic way, even though I already baked you a cake, which I personally delivered, and I was the first person to treat you to a birthday lunch, I know you need more. Because who can ever give you too much attention? No one, that's who! See, I know you well.

Internet, I might as well address you at this time, something I'm not sure I've done in this blog's history...probably because you tend to be my imagination. Don't go thinking I need to be admitted to the looney bin, at least not for what I just said. It's just that when you keep a blog, you don't often think about whom you might be communicating with on the other side. Side notes aside, I do love my sister. She would probably tell you otherwise, and I would probably tell you otherwise too, but yes, I do love her. I love her for many things, and I know at this point in the reading she is saying, "Yeah, right? How do you love me?" So, this is where I have to really apply my English degree and pretend that my concentration was in creative writing. (Sarcasm Stephanie) I love my sister not only because she's my sister, but because she makes me laugh or maybe it's because I make her laugh. My sister has the prettiest teeth on the planet, and even when I look at our family tree, I'm not sure where she stole them from. They are gigantic and could easily land her a toothpaste commercial wherein she could pull in more dough in 45 seconds than I will make in a lifetime. I'm not going to comment on her nice rack or her stilt like legs that allow her to wear those Fuck-Me boots with zippers. Brittany fucking Spears can't even wear those, even in her skinny-before-she-married-that-white-trash-loser-who's-going-to-take-all-her-money days. See, you have plenty that I'm jealous of. I know you're now thinking, "More, more, more."

I love that as much as you claim to despise me, I know that you love me, too. You still value my opinion even though you would go to your grave before you admitted that, although I kind of just busted you out in front of the WHOLE WORLD, didn't I? I will always be your number TWO, after that hot husband of yours, and that's the coolest place I think I could ever be. But if something unforeseen should happen to him, I will probably only grieve for about fifteen minutes and then my eyes will glaze over with drunken-like happiness of realizing I have moved up to the Almighty, All-Knowing position that your husband has occupied for the last 16 years. Even though I grew breasts in that time period, obtained my driver's license and college degree, I still can't have his place. I can ship things too you know.

All kidding aside, you have been a good sister to me. There have been times when the parents became particular unbearable in the teenage years, and it was awesome to know that I had one person on the planet that truly felt my pain. So much so, she gave up her car so that I could get to my part-time job, because my car somehow just became the sole property of my father and was somehow disconnected to ensure I wouldn't be "crafty" and steal it to fulfill my responsibilities in life. You know, lesson learning. It was cool that I could call you crying and bitching about the 342 rules we have to live by and how retarded they were, and I could hear understanding in your voice.

I hope that you look back on growing up with me as fun, after you get past all the memories of frustration. Remember when you moved out, and I feared that you might starve to death, so I raided the pantry of canned goods for you? I stole for you, woman. I pounded my fist down on a packet of ketchup at a gym because you encouraged me. Even though a nice lady in a white tennis skirt walked by at precisely the wrong moment, and didn't find my trick so amusing, and decided to tell me so in a really, really loud voice, I had amused you, so it was kind of worth it. Your laughter is priceless to me, but what is more priceless to me, is you. You can be a lot of things, but you are and will always be my big sister.

Happy 33rd Birthday, Stephanie. I love you!

*Okay, she never actually mentioned any growths to me and she would never, ever, ever give me any details of her sex life. I've only been asking for about 18 years.


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