Burning The Souffle

"A Woman Happily In Love, She Burns The Souffle"

My Sister, The Strange One June 25, 2009

Filed under: life is flippin suh-weet — Rachel @ 6:55 pm

My sister is hilarious. She doesn’t try to be. She just is.  She has this deadpan sense of humor, and a sense of timing that is either horrible or terrific, depending on how you look at it.

She is horrificaly blunt.  She does not say hello when she answers the phone. She says “What?”.  Don’t bother her with chatting. She will ask you what you want. You tell her and move on with your life. Do not expect a long drawn out conversation.

Don’t get me wrong, she is very chatty and personable in person, just not on the phone.

She loves nothing more than to make fun of cheesy local commercials. A few minutes ago we were watching tv and this cheesy rug sale commercial came on, you know, one of those cheesy local commercials where you can tell they probably paid the announcer with a six pack of bud light and a carton of cigarettes? (Not that I’m knocking it, I’ll work for diet coke and a bag of puffy cheetos.)  Well anyway, the annoucer was shrieking about rugs when my sister, totally deadpan,  drops her newspaper and shrieks “OH MY GOD, IT’S RUGS, I’M GOING TO PISS MYSELF!” Maybe it was one of those “you had to be there” type moments, but it was freaking funny.

A few minutes later, when she had picked her newspaper back up, and I went back to watching the news, she all of a sudden says “Isn’t it weird that we have hair growing under our arms? Strange.”

She doesn’t MEAN to be funny with stuff like that, she just is.

Her sense of timing is hilarious. I don’t care if you are watching the saddest movie ever seen,  she might just blurt out some random observation or question.

I’ve been trying to spend more time with my sis, she’s in the military and leaving for boot camp soon.  I can’t believe it, my tiny sissy, the one that I held at the hospital when she was born, off at boot camp.  I still remember when we were small, and how I tortured her to no end. I feel badly about this now, but I think there is some rule somewhere that says big sisters have to torture little sisters. Maybe I read that in the Big Sister’s Manual. Of course, I used to beat her up all the time. That stopped when she beat me up. I never tried again, and I’m still pretty sure she could kick my ass, even though I have a good 4  inches on her and at least 40 lbs. (I’m tall and curvy, she’s small  and wiry, but don’t get me wrong, she can pick me up and lift me off of the floor.)

I will miss my sis when she leaves, my random adventures won’t be the same without her. We always get lost. I remember one time driving around with her (I was maybe 16 or 17, she was 13 or 14)  and with no idea what the other was going to say, blurting out “Where the hell are we?”  Or now,  when we listen to the Ramones and “Blitzkrieg Bop” comes on and we turn it up full blast and sing along.

I think I’m gonna go give her a hug.

And she will probably ask me what I want.


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