Sike. I missed Saturday and Sunday’s blog challenges because I was too busy leading a life of leisure, so I am throwing three posts, that’s right, THREE POSTS in one RIGHT INTO YOUR FACE. Let’s get started before I get fatigued.
Day 18, Tell a Story from Your Childhood:
For some reason I think I am supposed to write about a sad moment from my childhood, because the challenge said to “dig deep” and remember details and what I ~felt~. Well, tough shit. As I am a human being, I did experience some sad times during my childhood, because who didn’t? Jeez. Instead I am going to talk about some of my favorite ~sisterly~ memories. I have two sisters, my oldest sister is named Lisa, and she has hazel eyes. My middle sister is named Erica, and she is the Mexican Reese Witherspoon. There is an 11 year difference between Erica and I, so growing up was awesome because it was almost like I was an only child, except I had teenage girls to entertain me.
Erica was a bit of an enigma to me when I was really young. She was popular, on the high school drill team, and had her own thing going on. Her room was off limits. My older sister Lisa was kinda like a second mom to me. She used to wake me up in the mornings and help me get ready for school. This was not an easy task. I am not what one would call a morning person as mornings are for suckers. I have very vivid memories of her brushing the tangles out of my hair and brusquely pulling it back in a ponytail while I shrieked the entire time.
One time when Lisa came to pick up from kindergarten, all of my classmates and I were standing around the flagpole waiting for our rides. When Lisa walked up to come get me, everyone screamed and ran away because I had told them that she was “the meanest girl in town.” Eh, she wasn’t really all that bad, on the days that we had a particularly rough time leaving the house in the morning, she would take me to get donuts holes and chocolate milk on the way to school. That is worth a million bucks to a 6 year old.
I never wanted to go to bed when I was a kid, I always thought I was going to miss out on something. My parents were pretty lax with my bedtime and often times I would get the opportunity to hang out with my sisters and their friends. When they got tired of me hanging around, my sisters told me if I didn’t go to bed they were going to turn out all the lights and the cockroaches would get me. Thanks, guys. Erica had a high school boyfriend that I really loved. His name was Jesse and his mom was a veterinarian so he had all sorts of awesome pets at his house. He was really sweet to me and would draw pictures of Ninja Turtles for me and took to me to meet former San Antonio Spur, Sean Elliott. A few times Erica and Jesse took me to the jetties with them to wade and collect things for his salt water aquarium. I specifically remember him having a sea anemone in his aquarium and watching it eat was simultaneously awesome AND gross. Jesse also helped me make school projects because even in the 3rd grade I was a huge slacker. He helped me make a diorama for my Kareem Abdul Jabbar report (I guess I was into basketball at the time???) and a sweetass sea otter marionette out of paper bags. I wanted her to marry him, but she said he was too immature for her. I can’t imagine what would make her think that.
In general, I have great big sisters. But, because they were so much older, and because they were a part of my family, they had a bit of a mean streak. They enjoyed teasing me, and would sometimes play jokes on me. One time we took a family vacation to Monterrey, Mexico, and somehow we forgot my suitcase at home. My parents had to buy me all new clothes in Mexico. My sisters took this as an opportunity to tell me that with my new Mexican wardrobe and because I was sooo BROWN that I was indistinguishable from any other Mexican kid selling chicle, and they would never let me back over the US/Mexican border. I cried. Excellent work sisters, excellent work. ::HIGH FIVE::
My sisters helped shape who I am today, and I love them for it. Here is a picture of little Letty for your enjoyment:
Damn, I was cute.
Day 19, 5 of my Favorite Blogs:
This one is easier. I probably could have done it yesterday, but I was too busy reading Sookie Stackhouse novels (don’t hate) and playing Game of Thrones Ascent. I already mentioned my girl Kolleen, so I going to share some other blogs that I enjoy reading.
First off damn, I gotta hawk my own shit. Thirtysometeen is great. It is a guilty pleasure paradise. I often go back and read our recaps of Degrassi, Skins, and other teen shows and laugh my ass off. God, we are funny. We have some more recaps coming up soon, even more embarrassing stories from our readers, plus my fake bro Matthew is partaking in Saved by the Bell Roulette, where he has to recap an episode we picked randomly for him. Good stuff is coming!
I love reading my friend Lauren’s Blog, It’s Me…The LD. Her writing is hilarious and full of heart. She goes from sharing lovely stories from her past to posting Beyonce videos, and that is something that I can really get behind. I find her everyday adventures engaging, and I could not be more excited for her wedding in October.
My lovely friend Chloe has a wonderful blog called Stitch in the Sea. She is so inspirational! In addition to being a tall drink of water, she is a wonderful step parent to two freakishly cute twin boys, and is creative and immaculately dressed to boot. Stitch in the Sea is a one stop shop for cooking, crafting, AND fashion. Seriously, check her shit out. I could not recommend it more. Also, you can purchase some of her awesome, sassy embroidery from her Etsy shop, Stich in the Sea.
I am blessed to know a number of truly funny and skilled writers, and my friend Lola is one of them. Her blog, Composing Lola, is filled with delightful illustrations and clever anecdotes. If I could write like anyone, it would be Lola. I briefly had the pleasure to write with her at our not yet failed parenting blog, Contractually Obligated, and I look forward to her reviving it! Please write more Lola, the public (me) demands it!
Last but not least, I have to give my childhood best friend Nicole a shout out. She blogs over at Unfinished Bidness. She is a new blogger, but is already a skilled and engaging writer. Head over to her site and give her some encouragement!
BONUS! I highly recommend you read Michelle Mirsky’s essays, No Fear of Flying: Kamikaze Missions in Death, Sex, and Comedy, over at McSweeney’s. They are heartbreaking and hilarious, and I am in awe of her talent.
Day 20, Get, Real. Something I Am Struggling With:
This prompt aggravates me. What does “get real” even mean? Is what I write not considered “real” just because I choose to keep my topics light hearted and complain about superficial things? I don’t think that makes what I write any less “real”. My stupidness is spread far and wide for everyone to see. While I may not tug at your heartstrings, I WILL tug at your fartstrings.
That being said, I guess I will try to be legit and talk about something I am kinda struggling with. Lately I have been feeling a little concerned that I am not spending enough time with Truman. I mean, I know I’m a good mother, but recently I feel like I have a been a bit selfish with my ME time. Let’s not get excited now, the boy is not neglected in the least. I spend PLENTY of time with him, and the kid is slathered with attention. Just Monday-Friday, I could probably take more time out to read a couple more books or build a really bitchin’ lego tower with him. When I’m cooking, instead of getting irritated by him stepping on my toes, I could pick him up so he can see what I am doing. It’s a quick fix really. That’s why it’s a just minor concern.
Not to change subject but you know, Chad is a great father and husband, and I am grateful everyday that he supports me in my stupid endeavors. He knows that I while I don’t have a crazy active social life, it’s important for me to leave the house and hang out with other bozos every once in a while. I gotta say, I am one lucky bitch. Also, I’m extremely proud that Truman is truly the chillest toddler ever, and it’s never really a problem when we go places to hang out with my friends. For the most part, they all think he’s a joy. It probably helps that all of my friends are just overgrown children themselves and can relate to Truman on a truly visceral level, but I appreciate that about them.
So, I guess what I’m really struggling with is having a super swell life. Golly fucking gee.