Thanks!
Driving home today, I saw what looked like a cute guy on my street. I was gawking at him when I realized it was my brother Ben. After I threw up in my mouth I pulled over and yelled at him for looking like a normal boy.
My mom was questioning an ethical decision I made recently:
Mom: “And do you think you made the right decision?”
Sarah: “How am I supposed to know, remember I dropped an ethics class when a midget sat behind me.”
M: “Sarah, a midget, really?”
S: “Um sorry, I think the correct term is vertically challenged.”
M: “Interesting. So what is your politically correct term? Spiritually challenged?”
S: “I’m sure that’s one of many. Wanna hear my suggestions?”
M: “Maybe another time.”
S: “Should I remind you?”
M: ” No, never.”
I feel ill today—on the verge of puking every other second. Yet, I still made it to classes and to work. I’m very proud of my current Supergirl status, though I’d much rather be curled up in bed with someone taking care of me. Only there isn’t a someone in my life right now. Daisy with her lack of opposable thumbs is completely useless.
I can’t decide if I ate something bad, or if I’m still sick over yesterday’s lunch conversation with my mom:
Mom: “Do you want my tomatoes?”
Sarah: “No thank you. They are good for the prostate, but my non-existent one is fine at the moment.”
M: “Oh, they are? I’ll have to tell your dad. When I rolled over in bed….”
S: “MOM!! Please stop. I do not want to hear this. No way, no how. Just stop!”
M: “What? Anyway…”
S: “Mom, I’m not kidding. I’ll leave.”
M: “As I was saying…”
(At this point I was curled up in fetus position underneath the table. Okay that part isn’t true, but I did briefly consider it.)
M: “When I rolled over in bed I noticed a book on your dad’s side of the table. It was a prostate health book. See, it wasn’t that bad. You’re so weird about things.”
S: “Remind me why I meet you for lunch?”
M: “Because I pay.”
I know it’s selfish, but I just don’t want to hear this stuff. It was bad enough having my mom and cousin, both nurses, discussing labor and delivery. I can only assume they were trying to discourage the birth of my hypothetical illegitimate child.
Uncle Cabbage Patch took Ben and I to dinner last week. As he was paying (Thanks!) I caught a peek at his wallet and couldn’t stop laughing at his Mexican produce. Is it a fruit or is it a vegetable. Who knows!
When my Uncle Cabbage Patch says jump, I jump, or blog as the case may be. He’s requested I blog the ten stupidest things I’ve done in my life. In my typical self-deprecating manor I’ve decided to comply. I’m sure there are far more stupid actions on my part, but these are the first that come to mind:
1. Not finishing college the first time around.
2. Not finishing college the second time around.
3. Giving my cheating boyfriend a second chance–“be ye not so stupid.”
4. Getting a checking account at 20. Little did I know what bouncing a check would do to the rest of my life.
5. Staying in a dead end job longer than I should have.
6. Letting my temper (Nielson Charm) get the best of me. For example, throwing a drink at one of my best friends in anger.
7. Not taking advice from my parents.
8. Attempting an adult relationship at 21. Enough said.
9. Perms.
10. Not spending enough time with Tim, therefore resulting in way too much guilt when he died.
**Now remember Uncle CP, the above is my version of stupid, not my dad’s version. I imagine he wouldn’t be able to narrow it down to 100 let alone 10. Also, you’re still reading this thing? Why not call and invite me out to dinner to hear about my life in person. Just a thought…
“Hey Ben, are you busy?”
“Yup. I’m doing shiv research.”
“You’re so weird, what are you really doing?”
“Looking up shiv on the internet.”
“Why exactly?”
“I was trying to text shit and my t9 wrote shiv. So I needed to research it.”
“And what are you learning?”
“Duh, Sarah. Lots. The shiv is the favored weapon of inmates in prisons across the world.”
“Cool Ben, I’ll know what to kill you with if you don’t come hang these shelves on my wall.”
Dear Chady-bear, 7/10/07
Thanks for your email! As requested here is your “real” letter. I’m glad you liked the package I sent you. However, I’m not sending you anymore jerky. I gave you enough to last a normal person a year. Silly Bear, red meat is bad for you. Did you like the stuff Ben included? As you may have guessed the half used bottle of mustard was his addition. Go figure.
I’m sorry you have to share a room with 12 guys. That doesn’t sound so bad to me, sans the garments of course.
This part of your email made me giggle: Are the mariners winning their division? Are the redsox wasting the yankee’s? Come on, keep me posted, I’m in a prison up here about to go crazy!
It’s so cute you think I have any idea which baseball teams are winning. The only baseball related fact I can offer is Thirsty Thursdays at the Bee games are by far the best thing baseball has to offer, even though the beer lines are long.
As far as feeling like you are in a prison, I have one word: DUH! What were you expecting? The MTC isn’t exactly a Hilton.
Three months without any sports, news and “huntin” is going to drive you crazy. Maybe you should just come home. You can hide in my apartment for the next two years–Mom and Dad will never know the difference. I think it’s brilliant! You’ll of course have to get a job or be my manservant. Your duties would be simple: clean, cook, walk Daisy, designated driving, Starbucks runs and garbage removal. It’s not Japan but at least it’s religion-free. Plus the only language you’ll have to learn is Sarah-speak, and you’ve already got 19 years experience.
All in all, it makes sense. Well… other than I can’t offer you medical or dental insurance. And I have a strict no gun policy in my house.
You’ll stay, I know you. Besides you’re the youngest child and pleasing Mom and Dad is all on your shoulders. I was lucky to be the oldest. I knew I could spend a lifetime disappointing them with my life choices and they still have four other children to make them proud. But no pressure, Chady.
I love you and miss having my Bear around. Visiting home just isn’t the same without you there. It’s too quiet and no one fights me for complete control of the television.
Let me know if you’d like something sent that isn’t jerky. I can wrap items in newspaper next time so you can at least read what the hell is going on in the world.
Love,
Sissy
ben and i went to a family reunion today. not necessarily because we wanted to, but because my mom is the master of all things guilt. it didn’t hurt knowing i’d see my mom, aunt carol, holli and the twins. all of whom i never see enough.
i was in line with ben getting sloppy joes, because that’s how my family rolls, when my aunt judy looked over and noticed two very large hickies on ben’s neck. rather than chastise him she just asked why he didn’t bring the girl with him as a date. how great is that?
on the drive home i gave ben advice on how to get rid of the hickies, as well as suggesting he date girls who are over the age of 16.
i call this the cross-over talk. when ben talks on his cell phone he uses his right hand for his left ear and the other way around. it drives me nuts! i don’t think you should have to be a contortionist to talk on a phone. he also does it when driving which makes it extra interesting.
chady-bear and i have more in common than i originally thought! he’s currently in the mtc doing that mormon training stuff before he heads to japan for his mission. he’s not allowed caffeine there, and it turns out he’s a slave to it, just like his sis.
he emailed and asked i send him a package of mountain dew and beef jerky. rather than argue with him on what a dumb request i decided to just go with it. after all, i’m not going to see him for two years. i might as well be nice to him.
i looked all over target and couldn’t find any jerky. of course my standby maverick gas station had some. so chady gets his mountain dew, a meat blanket and just to be a bratty sister i sent some princess pop-tarts. what the hell, right? he can’t yell at me… he’s with god now.