A Face Only a Neglected Mother Could Love

my sister is home! from india no less. as she is effortlessly cool, she didn’t tell us when she was coming or how — plane, train, boat, extremely sturdy and amphibious rickshaw, no one could be sure. my parents thought i was withholding her travel information from them, but no, i merely received one mass email on monday informing me and countless others of her impending arrival in the states on tuesday but with no specific details such as time or place of arrival. but apparently, we weren’t the only ones kept out of the loop. the travel gods decided they didn’t have enough information either so they are still holding her luggage on one of their many baggage carousels in one of their many ports, location still undisclosed. so she’s here with a tiny purse, a laptop and nothing but her good name. so that’s pretty cool.

dude, where’s my baggage?
photo courtesy of Flickr and malias

meanwhile, my parents feel i am neglecting my familial bonding duties as their child. deadbeat alert. deadbeat alert. i’ll make it up to them. my mother informed me that the other night, my dad was walking around the house saying “this is unacceptable, this is unacceptable” which is how he does when he misses people. WELL THE GANG’S ALL HERE NOW. let the games begin. eek.

in a nice foreboding sense, this morning i woke up with a huge hive on my left eye giving me the punched-in-the-face look i sport so well (OH WAIT actually it’s the ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY of the BEE-STING EYE INCIDENT so this is my body’s form of a civil war reenactment). good timing, life. way to celebrate those kodak moments.

memory lane

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