May

23

Birthday Dinner, Party of 3 4!

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This picture was taken by our waiter at the steak house where my sisters took me for dinner on my birthday. I know I’d been saying that it was going to just be Lil and April, but look! Marissa is in the picture, too! And she looks… totally natural (minus the light saber). And also totally proportional compared to the rest of us!

May

21

I’m 23 Today!

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I’m 23! Officially! Unless you’re my mom! In which case, you’ll remind me that I’m not 23 until 6:30PM!

So I guess I’m also officially old now. I did a little window shopping for cottages at the retirement home and a plot at the cemetery this morning. Then I drove (slowly) uptown where I struck a few young smart alecky whippersnappers with my cane. All that before coming home, rubbing my hands and informing people that it was going to rain soon because my arthritis was talking.

May

12

Leaving on a Jet Plane

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Lil and I planned on taking a road trip as a celebration of my graduation. We weren’t quite sure where we were going, but we knew we were going to rent a convertible and drive there because, after all, it IS a road trip.

Then Lil got a crazy idea and started looking at ticket prices to exotic places like “Colorado.” I’m not big on flying, just ask Lil! She moved to Montana once (for three months) and I refused to come visit her because I didn’t want my plane to plummet into the mountains or the plains or the ocean or the rivers or the bison. Actually, I was GOING to come visit her, but she moved back.

Anyway.

Lil, knowing my propensity to drag my feet in hopes that the thing I wish to avoid will just disappear (70% success rate of this tactic working to date), went ahead and booked us a flight to Portland. I think. I don’t know, she called me and there was a lot of mouth breathing and talk about rain forests and I couldn’t really understand what she was saying.

I warned her that it’s going to be like traveling with a toddler, albeit a large, angry, drunken toddler who has a flair for the dramatic. Our flight is five hours, 4.5 of which I will spend intoxicated, unwashed and unkempt, flailing about and yelling “I’m comin’, Bradley!” at every little smidge of turbulence. The rest of the time, I will nap.