I had started a post about my continuing efforts towards a healthy lifestyle, while navigating the Weight Watchers program and balancing my ridiculous love of the fermented grape. I decided to abandon that stream of consciousness due to the sobbing that was scaring the dog. Instead I am going to write about my Sister. The Sista, because she doesn’t know about my new attempt at blogging and therefore will remain totally natural when we are together, not fearing that something funny she said will be relayed to the 3 people who had read my previous blog. Including my Mom.
My Sister and I met recently for a little dinner and to hear a band called Midlife Crisis. If you are assuming that this is a band of middle aged men reliving their youth you would be correct. I took a tour of Mr. Google to see if they had a website but there are a dozen bands that call themselves Midlife Crisis, so this must be a common phenomenon.
I decide that we should mark this momentous occasion with a selfie. My sister does not take her own selfies. The most I’ve seen her do is take pictures of her wine and her book in an attempt to mark the occasion of her reading in the sunshine and getting her buzz on. I think she’s also taken pictures of her car. It’s a jeep, can’t blame her. The Sista has also never refused me when I’ve wanted to take her picture. The catch though is that I have never actually gotten a picture of her that she wasn’t mugging for the camera. She can’t seem to help herself. I went through all the pictures I have of us and seriously every single one she is making a face.
Fast forward to my being at my parents place, and my Dad, doing the Dad thing, brought out an old photo album. I was perusing the pictures I’ve seen a dozen times, and could probably memorize the order they were in, when I came across the picture that made total sense of my sister.
Still adorable, still crazy.