Look At Little Sister Or, No. Seriously, Dudes. My Sister IS Better Than You.

I remember when my parents told me I was going to be a big sister. I don’t remember specifics – how they did it or where I was or any of that – but I do remember thinking, “Isn’t that nice? They did that so I would have a friend to play with.”

I was a bit self-absorbed as a child.
I’m a bit self-absorbed as an adult.

As a relatively reasonable and rational facsimile of an adult, I understand that my parents didn’t have another child just so I would have a playmate….but despite my myopia, I’m still right because my sister is not only my best friend but the best person I know.

And my life is awash with great people. I mean, seriously. You can’t swing a cat…

My sister inspires me to be a better person. To be smarter, to be much more curious and critical of the world around me. To be more compassionate and to have better taste in pretty much everything.

And she’s one of my favorite people to eat with. Primarily because she does things like taking a bite of a pistachio macaron and saying, “Now, I’m sad because nothing I ever eat again will taste as good as that.”


So to my sister, my best friend, my hero – I love you! Let’s get Polar Seltzer Water soon! Oooh! Maybe we can make floats?

My Sister Rules Or, Let Me Tell You About My Better Half

So, this happened today:

Which lead to this:

Which leads to three things:

1. I just made $10. Well, actually $5 because I’m splitting my reward with my sister.
2. My sister is awesome and next time we hang out, we’re totes eating a whole pizza and watching Veronica Mars.
3. I probably could not have been an astronaut but that doesn’t mean we don’t deserve encouragement.

My Sister Rules Or, Let Me Tell You About My Better Half

A conversation between me and my sister:

Jaime: Dude! I would love to see this unfold in person!
My Sister: Come home!
Jaime: I have to see if I can get time off from work and if I can afford the jaunt.
My Sister: I’ll pay for it!
My Sister’s Boyfriend (interjecting): You don’t have any money!
My Sister: Shut up! I won’t eat for two months!

This is why my sister is my favorite.

Because she’s willing to go all Temple of the Dog so we can spend quality time together.

(Don’t worry, Mom. She’s not skipping any meals or paying for any plane tickets BUT if I do make it down for the holidays – plan on doing lots of eating and even more gossiping about everyone ever).

They Put Anti-Freeze In The Wine and They Gave My Red Hat To The Donkey Or, Now We Sip Champagne When We Thirsty

Now that I’m a grown-up (or reasonable facsimile thereof), I drink like a grown-up.

Meaning I’m set in my ways – pinot grigio if I’m drinking wine, margaritas (rocks, no salt) if I’m eating Mexican food and G&Ts or Gimlets (I’m with Raymond Chandler on this one – half gin, half Rose’s lime and nothing else) otherwise.

I do not care to drink your overpriced pink vodka drink adorned with a lollipop, I would rather guzzle Pauly D’s industrial strength hair gel than drink Ron-Ron Juice and due to gainful employment, I no longer have to resort to buying the cheapest firewater possible when stocking my bar.

That being the case, I really don’t know all that much about what’s going on the cheap booze front.

Thankfully, my sister is a resident of a college town and keeps me well informed.

Me: I need to pick up champagne for tonight.
My Sister: You should buy Andre!
Me: What the hell is Andre?
My Sister: You don’t know?
Me: No. Should I?
My Sister: It’s $5 champagne! And it comes in three different flavors – green, pink and purple.
Me: Purple?
My Sister: It’s the same color as my hoodie.
Me: Oh Jesus….

So, I’m at the state store (Yes, the state store because Pennsylvania has puritanical laws when it comes to the purchase of liquor) and I see the aforementioned libation. I don’t make the purchase, but snap a quick picture and send it to my sister.

To which she responds: “Dude, if they’re charging $6.99 for Andre, you’re getting ripped off.”

Then today I get an email from her with the subject line ‘!!!’

I open it up and read the following: “Andre is $6.49 at Winn Dixie now too! This economy is hell on us all.”

Anyone know what the open container laws are in PA? Because I’m thinking when I meet her at the airport next week, we might just have to pop open a bottle.