My sister and i should never be allowed to be alone together. When we are, we do things like get naked and compare our thighs, searching for cellulite (why yes, we were both blessed with lovely eastern european pulkes…oh, yes, the pulkes. thanks, bubbe!). and while those of you without sisters are all head-shaky and “those girls are CRAZY!”, those of you with sisters are nodding your heads in solidarity.
(edited to add: well, it seems that i’ve scared all of you away. in our defense, we were in her apartment getting dressed and she bought this tingly new cellulite cream and we were discussing it. my god, people. i’m not THAT crazy…)
fist bumps, yo!
and while she and i look nothing alike, we come from the same mold. we survived the same childhood. we were tossed across the country between two sets of hardly-around parents. we existed on nothing but boxed mac and cheese and Empire frozen pizza bagels and coke. we were forced into hideous leotards…
I’ve mentioned before how freakishly similar my sister and i are…even down to our travel toothbrush choices (and any of you who think that having the exact same toothbrush in exactly the same color isn’t random and weird have certainly never been down the dental hygiene aisle at a drug store)
and down to our camera poses…
(oh, j.crew gloves! how i miss you! *sigh* lost in a new york cab, likely…)
she, however, can totally keep her eyes OPEN for pictures. i can’t even keep them open when I’M HOLDING THEM OPEN…
we buy the same clothes. the same lip glosses (we are both loving Nars Orgasm right now). the same boots. the same shampoo. oh, also…we can’t play Scrabble on Facebook anymore. because every game ends in a bloody tie. even our brains work the same.
having time with my sister is a gift. a gift i do not get often enough.
(ps. there’s totally an awesome segue in here…i promise. it’s coming!)
there’s absolutely zero explanation as to why i love this man. He’s not conventionally sexy in any way. i mean, he’s not even remotely good looking. he certainly doesn’t fit with the girlie-men on MY LIST. and he borderlines a little psychoinsane when it comes to politics. but, LOVE, people. (and a shout out for his best actor oscar nomination this morning!)
it’s almost like he uses the force on me.
and you know who else is using the force on me? ED HARRIS.
sad, sad little case in point:
i’m in my hotel room getting dressed and i turn on the tv. showtime. since i don’t have this channel in the great white north. and i see this:
and i think…John Adams? that’s showtime, right? or maybe it’s HBO? i really want to see that…so i keep watching. but, nay, it’s not John Adams…because that unattractive dude in the period clothing and the veryscary hair? he’s Ed Harris. and he’s playing Beethoven. and he’s asking some girl to “bath him” so, i could stop watching right now.
and yet.
i watched the last 20 minutes of the movie. because damn you Ed Harris and your force. and when Metalia was all “Me too! i totally love him too! but not from your crazy Beethoven crap…from The Rock!” i realized that spending time with her is also a gift. a gift i do not get enough. because when you can spend all day with someone in the freezing cold looking for a J.Crew on 5th avenue that totally doesn’t exist (thanks, iphone!) and looking for a starbucks that totally doesn’t exist (whatever, NYC, aren’t you supposed to have a starbucks on every damn corner?!?) AND she takes you to a gigantenormous candy store so you can buy chocolate licorice and then you discover that you share a bizarre love for someone??
GIFT.
(whatever…i totally stole this picture from her)
(and no, i don’t feel bad about it)
(and yes, we DID write about the same thing today)
(and no, i don’t feel bad about that either)
so, tell me, who unconventionally uses the force on you?
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