Have you ever closed your eyes and for a split second, you see something that doesn't make sense? Just a second ago, I closed my eyes to rub them ( which is horrible for wrinkles I hear, but it's something I do when I'm sleepy) and I saw the back of a girl's head. She had purple hair but not the usual purple. Instead, it was lavender. Odd. I wonder who she is. Am I supposed to know her? Is she a fairy?
Anyway...
I phoned my sister today as I am in the habit of doing when I'm traveling. (Have I mentioned that I travel every week for work? I do.) I wanted to ask her to come visit in October because I had a craving to see her and had only just realized that November 1st (which is when we will meet in Norman for a football game) is such a very long time away.
It was settled rather quickly. "I can't. "S" (her son) has games every Friday and I could miss one but I would be a bad Mom..."
And we moved past it with rapidity. It was a crazy long talk. It took me from Roswell to Buckhead to a DSW (because I forgot my heels in Memphis and have been working in flip flops although I decided once I was there that I couldn't fathom buying a $60 pair of heels when I have perfectly good shoes at home) and then out of DSW and to the property where I applied my make-up and threw my hair up in a neater version of my messy bun.
My point is:
It was supposed to be a 5 minute conversation and instead we covered everything. We covered my trip to LA and how she would love the "8oz Burger Bar" with the spare rib grilled cheese and fried olives. We discussed how I had a conversation with one of my best friends C regarding the fact that I may mention my ex boyfriend too often in conversations with my husband, and that even if it means nothing to me, it may mean something to him. (This can be another blog but for the record, my sister agreed with C...as do I, I suppose. I am rude and disrespectful and never even fathomed it because my husband is so amazingly awesome and just sits back and lets me talk.) We covered whether one can justify purchasing $150 sheets if, in fact, the sensation it provides is one comparable to napping on a bed of very short angel fur. (We decided that one cannot justify this even if one wishes to justify it.)
We discussed teenage drinking and what actually constitutes a drug dealer. We also pondered when to consider a 15 year old kid "bad news" and "not-worthy to hang out with your child" for his actions at Homecoming after-parties.
We covered the fact that she "does NOT" like California and how "I totally DO" and that there is "very little not to like."
We had conversations about Mom and Chinese Chicken Salads at Granite City Cafe.
We finished off the conversation with my assurances that my toenails were pretty and polished enough to enter a Buckhead property in flip-flops. (They were. Crimson nails to match my Oklahoma Sooner football team.)
It was a conversation that we have had many times a week, in that we typically talk for 40 minutes or more, and a conversation that we have never had in that the content changes with every passing day.
What remains the same is that I love my sister. I love it that I have someone to talk to who somehow is my biggest fan, even when I'm wrong. It's cliche, I know. But sometimes, when Johnny Raincloud settles in and I wonder where I am, who I am and if anyone has ever, EVER felt so alone...it's so nice to know that I'm not. And the best part of it is, there is very little that I could do to convince her to stop loving me back.
Sappy sappy...
Here's to sisters and best friends.
Anyway...
I phoned my sister today as I am in the habit of doing when I'm traveling. (Have I mentioned that I travel every week for work? I do.) I wanted to ask her to come visit in October because I had a craving to see her and had only just realized that November 1st (which is when we will meet in Norman for a football game) is such a very long time away.
It was settled rather quickly. "I can't. "S" (her son) has games every Friday and I could miss one but I would be a bad Mom..."
And we moved past it with rapidity. It was a crazy long talk. It took me from Roswell to Buckhead to a DSW (because I forgot my heels in Memphis and have been working in flip flops although I decided once I was there that I couldn't fathom buying a $60 pair of heels when I have perfectly good shoes at home) and then out of DSW and to the property where I applied my make-up and threw my hair up in a neater version of my messy bun.
My point is:
It was supposed to be a 5 minute conversation and instead we covered everything. We covered my trip to LA and how she would love the "8oz Burger Bar" with the spare rib grilled cheese and fried olives. We discussed how I had a conversation with one of my best friends C regarding the fact that I may mention my ex boyfriend too often in conversations with my husband, and that even if it means nothing to me, it may mean something to him. (This can be another blog but for the record, my sister agreed with C...as do I, I suppose. I am rude and disrespectful and never even fathomed it because my husband is so amazingly awesome and just sits back and lets me talk.) We covered whether one can justify purchasing $150 sheets if, in fact, the sensation it provides is one comparable to napping on a bed of very short angel fur. (We decided that one cannot justify this even if one wishes to justify it.)
We discussed teenage drinking and what actually constitutes a drug dealer. We also pondered when to consider a 15 year old kid "bad news" and "not-worthy to hang out with your child" for his actions at Homecoming after-parties.
We covered the fact that she "does NOT" like California and how "I totally DO" and that there is "very little not to like."
We had conversations about Mom and Chinese Chicken Salads at Granite City Cafe.
We finished off the conversation with my assurances that my toenails were pretty and polished enough to enter a Buckhead property in flip-flops. (They were. Crimson nails to match my Oklahoma Sooner football team.)
It was a conversation that we have had many times a week, in that we typically talk for 40 minutes or more, and a conversation that we have never had in that the content changes with every passing day.
What remains the same is that I love my sister. I love it that I have someone to talk to who somehow is my biggest fan, even when I'm wrong. It's cliche, I know. But sometimes, when Johnny Raincloud settles in and I wonder where I am, who I am and if anyone has ever, EVER felt so alone...it's so nice to know that I'm not. And the best part of it is, there is very little that I could do to convince her to stop loving me back.
Sappy sappy...
Here's to sisters and best friends.
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