I actually just posted, closed the PowerBook, stuffed it under the bed, caught a glimpse of my hair in the mirror, thought, "Damn girl, you need a shower. Your hair is greasy," (it takes several days for my hair to get obviously greasy, so there is cause for concern), was reminded of my adorable, albeit not hygenic, baby sister Betsy, and thought of the best mass email I've ever received. Out of the blue, one regular day, Betsy mass emailed this to the five other members of my fantastic family:
You're supposed to read it left to right, top to bottom, figuring out what the sounds are and thus deciphering the message. Seriously, it's not that hard. What it is is so dang sweet it makes your teeth hurt. But then, that's just the way Betsy is. That's just the way my whole family is. Got nothing to say, fill it with I love yous. Got nothing to do, how about hugging and kissing? Got nowhere to go, try out mom's bed with the rest of your sisters and your dad and the dog to play a game of "forget the rest of the world exists." The beauty of my family is in its incredible imperfection. We are greasy, we are lazy, we make out with our pets, we are finnicky eaters (I'm the least finnicky and I've switched to organic milk and am trying to replace processed food with fruit), we fall short on a lot of things, we are spoiled and get way too much, we are mean to our sister's new boyfriends, we take up the entire hibachi when we go out for Japanese, we are loud, we are embarrassing, we have Griswald moments every time we go out in public, our Christmas tree is totally ghetto, we smoke cigars, we crash cars more than the average family really should, we flunk out of school, we (well, to be fair, they) cheat at Cranium, our photo albums have been reduced to Walgreens envelopes of unlabeled pictures, we've never in our lives sent out a family Christmas card, we've only taken one intentional family portrait in our history (Leiah looked like she was getting electrocuted, Shannon looked like a rooster, my mom looked like Sally Jesse, Betsy looked like she'd been in her fancy dress for three years, I looked like I was a Russian wife for sale, of course, Daddy was handsome), we go on unsuccessful killing sprees, we see therapists, we fornicate, we cuss, we are prejudiced against Republicans and blame men for the evil in the world (even my dad's in on this one), we have mismatched dishes and puppy pads in the dining room, we are a complete mess. But there is comfort in that mess. That mess is easy to come home to, to feel at peace in. That mess keeps us all from being judged and keeps us all from being judges. So, I was surging for my family and wanted to send them some muahs. And I wanted to put an accidental family portrait here so I can see them whenever I post.
Thanks for your attention and we will now return to our regularly insightful blogging.
You're supposed to read it left to right, top to bottom, figuring out what the sounds are and thus deciphering the message. Seriously, it's not that hard. What it is is so dang sweet it makes your teeth hurt. But then, that's just the way Betsy is. That's just the way my whole family is. Got nothing to say, fill it with I love yous. Got nothing to do, how about hugging and kissing? Got nowhere to go, try out mom's bed with the rest of your sisters and your dad and the dog to play a game of "forget the rest of the world exists." The beauty of my family is in its incredible imperfection. We are greasy, we are lazy, we make out with our pets, we are finnicky eaters (I'm the least finnicky and I've switched to organic milk and am trying to replace processed food with fruit), we fall short on a lot of things, we are spoiled and get way too much, we are mean to our sister's new boyfriends, we take up the entire hibachi when we go out for Japanese, we are loud, we are embarrassing, we have Griswald moments every time we go out in public, our Christmas tree is totally ghetto, we smoke cigars, we crash cars more than the average family really should, we flunk out of school, we (well, to be fair, they) cheat at Cranium, our photo albums have been reduced to Walgreens envelopes of unlabeled pictures, we've never in our lives sent out a family Christmas card, we've only taken one intentional family portrait in our history (Leiah looked like she was getting electrocuted, Shannon looked like a rooster, my mom looked like Sally Jesse, Betsy looked like she'd been in her fancy dress for three years, I looked like I was a Russian wife for sale, of course, Daddy was handsome), we go on unsuccessful killing sprees, we see therapists, we fornicate, we cuss, we are prejudiced against Republicans and blame men for the evil in the world (even my dad's in on this one), we have mismatched dishes and puppy pads in the dining room, we are a complete mess. But there is comfort in that mess. That mess is easy to come home to, to feel at peace in. That mess keeps us all from being judged and keeps us all from being judges. So, I was surging for my family and wanted to send them some muahs. And I wanted to put an accidental family portrait here so I can see them whenever I post. 
Thanks for your attention and we will now return to our regularly insightful blogging.
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