For the past year or two, I've been all about sending people greeting cards on their birthday. Call me old-fashioned, but I still think it's fun getting something in the mail. (Especially if it has a check..)
The husband understands this excitement. He loves opening packages. The minute they arrive, he texts me asking if he can unearth their contents. And most of the time it's lame stuff, like toilet paper and lamp harps. But he still loves it. I think it's the thrill of the unknown.
Needless to say, we both love surprises.
That being said, every time I head to the store to stock up on birthday cards, I find that one theme in general is always surmount: getting/being old.
On the one hand, I find this irritating. I need variety here! Not to mention when I wish people a happy birthday, I generally try to avoid being insulting. Granted, if the card is too funny to pass up, I may occasionally purchase one that is more on the teasing side, but as a general rule, no.
On the other hand, sometimes it's just unavoidable. I think when a person reaches a new decade, it's kind of mandatory to tease them about their age.
That being said, today is my sister, Katerina Cupcake's, thirtieth birthday. That's a big 3-0 people. And I totally forgot to send her a birthday card mocking her old age! Don't worry, I still sent a card, but I totally missed out on a choice opportunity here.
So let me just take the chance to give a little shout out to my aged next-oldest sister. Happy birthday Katerina Cupcake! You're and oldie but a goodie! :)
I feel as though I need to relate what rooming with my sister is really like. Correction. I feel like I need to relate what life in general with my sister is really like. I'm relatively positive that you may pity/envy/laugh at/pray for me.
To to live the true to life experience, here's what you need to do.
To begin, imagine this running through your mind, countless times a day and possibly throughout the night:
Next, sit down at your computer and blurt out an email like this:
"So I've decided that I am so bored at work all day that you have to write me at least 4 entertaining emails (one for each hour). Since you were not informed of this until now I will just have to write you one first. Be prepared for the most funny, BE-dazzling, AWEsome, CREAtive, UN-ENDing, GLORIFIED LIST OF QEUSTIONS 'O' LONGNESS (that you need to answer back or there might or might not be a bush in your bed or die in your shampoo! MUAhahah... well that might not work to well because you use my shampoo don't you...) What should I make for dinner since you won't be home until 7:00?? And... What time does the dance start on Friday?? And... is there anything going on Saturday that I forgot about?? And... Is Alese sleeping over this weekend?? And... Are you going out to moms house on Friday?? And... When is Talera's birthday?? And... What did you get her for a present?? And... I should have gotten that hat for her for her birthday?? And... I know that really wasn't a question and neither is this one but I cant lose the format?? And... So with those raises how much do you make now?? And... Ashlee was telling me the other day that she found a picture that you drew that other day and was laughing so hard the she couldn't tell her boyfriend why it was so funny, so i was wondering if you remember the picture, she said something about a barbie and a ken with chickens in the trees :P?? And... Do you use my shampoo? Because I don't see any for you?? And... guess who just walked into my office.... Jim Farnsworth?? And... There was just a weird bug running across my desks that is gross and It freaked me out so i covered it with a lid, and then.... he smooshed it with his fingers! Gross, huh?? And... I am starting to run out of questions so I will let you know when I think of some... Love ya lots tater tots!"
If you haven't passed out (or passed away) by this point, as your last step, proceed to write a response. Something that might end up looking like this:
"So, um..., you're clogging up my inbox and that's not good, I'm pretty sure. Because you remember when my roommate clogged up the toilet freshman year and left it for later to fix? Remember how that was the grossest thing ever? I had to throw away the plunger. That's how bad it was. But back to the point, you're clogging up my inbox. Yes, your emails are like poop. But I love... your... poop? Is this entertaining enough for you? (Personally, I am disgrosting myself out. How's THAT for a phrase?) Know what else? You kinda got carried away with that list of adjectives. Because pretty sure 'qeustions' is not spelled like that... And then there were apostrophes everywhere and yah. I notice stuff like that. Well FRICK Gem. When are you and Alese going to realize that putting a brush in my bed isn't funny! I think that joke is dead by now! I mean dead, dead. And when you're dead, you're dead! But the other threat is valid, no matter which spelling you use. Because, as it stands, your email just told me that you were going to die in my shampoo (which is really your shampoo) so, correction: you are going to die in your shampoo and this will be punishment?... to me?... somehow?... I am assuming you meant 'dye' but for now it is just too visually entertaining to stop imagining. AND NOW I'M HYPERVENTILATING BECAUSE I JUST DISCOVERED THAT BIG BANG THEORY AND COMMUNITY ARE PREMIERING ON THE SAME NIGHT, AT THE SAME TIME ON TWO DIFFERENT CHANNELS!!! That's it. I died. I'm dead. Dig a hole and bury me...
But until you do, I guess I can finish this email. You should make quesadillas for dinner. And while you're doing that, don't forget your Thursday dutiesh. Shuch ash shaying everything with the 'sh' shound. Thanksh. But I guessh I have to follow my own rulesh sho... here it goesh. The dance shtartsh at eight on Friday but the food beforehand shtartsh at shix. Shix? Shix. I like shaying that word. Shaturday morning is the Wymount opening shocial, sho you should (that one doeshn't work. shadnessh. :( ) probably come and eat shome hot dogsh and ride Dad'sh train. Aleshe might be shleeping over, I don't know for shure. I think I'll go do shome laundry at mom'sh houshe Shaturday afternoon. Talera'sh birthday is Sheptember 23rd. You already know what I got her for a preshent. Sheesh. (Blasht! Another one!) And now, I'm tired of anshwering endlessh queshtions. Sho... too bad, sho shad.
P.Sh. I like your bug shtory. It made me laugh.
Shmell ya later!"
If you made it through this training, I now pat your head proudly and stick a big, shiny gold star on your forehead.
I've tried to describe such sisterly interactions to others before and sadly...
