HauteMess Has a SisterI don't regularly talk about my family, but some of you may recall that I have a brother and he is recently married. My new Sister-In-Law (SisterMess) practically BEGGED me to blog about her all weekend. And by "BEG," I am using logic I learned from the brothers of Kappa Sigma at USC - "NO" doesn't always mean no.
After 9 hours of drinking and finishing 3 full bottles of wine in a fun little game of "Pass the Bottle," the following conversations really happened:
ME: I love Durph.30 min later...
Sis: Aw thanks!
ME: And by "Durph," I mean your brother - the 'Superior Durph.'
Sis: Oh yeah?? Then whats your brother to you? The superior placenta???
ME: *without a pause, grabbing for my phone* Hold on.
Sis: Are you blogging about this?
Sis: You set me up. You made this happen. I have never talked about placenta until you made me. You did this. Ugh. That's the bad thing about HauteMess- you can't do anything anymore without her blogging it.
ME: Yo - what's your twitter handle?
ME: I'm going to mention you in a tweet.
Sis: NOOOO! I don't want to get famous. I can't handle fame.
ME: Trust me, no one is getting famous on my blog! *pulling out my iPhone*
Sis: Are you blogging about this right now?
ME: No. But I may be emailing it to myself to throw back in your face tomorrow.
Sis: I feel like Bitchy Little Rat Dog is sitting here in a bikini body telling me to eat a dick.
And that's how I knew she wanted this...she wanted this REAL BAD.
A LITTLE BACKSTORY FOR YOU...
I have always wanted a sister...just like the Wakefield Twins in Sweet Valley High but less dorky than Elizabeth and less slutty than Jessica. I always thought sisters shared clothes and gave advice on boys and stayed up until the wee hours of the morning giggling.
Don't get me wrong. My brother is my best friend. I love him dearly. BUT he can't french braid his way out of a paper bag, and he would never be able to tell me what shade of lipgloss goes best with my earrings.
FLASHBACK A FEW YEARS...
A few years ago at Christmas time, my brother dropped me off at a bar where we were meeting his "chick du jour." I walked in, parked at the bar, and pressed my elbows together tightly to produce bartender-attention-getting-cleavage. I was just about to order a drink when some blonde chick started hitting on me.
Blondie: Are you HauteMess?After that night, my brother went on to tell me how important that night was because I just met his future wife. He told me he just knew and that he was in love. At the time, I was dating Mr. Apathetic and the idea of my brother meeting someone and "knowing" that he was in "love" after only a few weeks when it took like 6 months for Mr. Apathetic to acknowledge the title of "Boyfriend" was beyond comprehension.
ME: I have been called that before, yes.
Blondie: I am so excited to meet you! I have heard so much about you.
ME: *realizing that she wasn't hitting on me, but rather the girl my brother mentioned* Yeah. Ditto *thinking to myself - if by "heard so much" you mean I was told there would be a female in the mix tonight, then yes, me too.*
But, I knew she was important to him so I made it a priority to get to know her. Later that holiday break, I rode alone in a car with this New Blonde on a 3 hour trip to Charleston, SC for New Year's Eve. We kept the conversation light, covering topics like: politics, religion, cancer, true love, recovering from heartbreak, therapy, eating disorders, and sex. You know, basic small talk. (hint: that was sarcasm) And that is when I knew - I had a friend for life. She was going to marry my brother and be my Blonde-In-Law.
This past weekend, while all the other girls were baring midriff, adjusting their floppy hats and feather hairpieces, we donned bikini body tee shirts and skipped Coachella to play "pass the bottle" while listening to Outkast on repeat before breaking out into interpretive dance to Florence + the Machine "Cosmic Love." It was the kind of fun you can only have with best friends.
But then, we started videotaping each other drunk as blackmail, calling each other "bitch" and "skank," and wrestling over whether to tip the Pizza Delivery kid with a $10 or $20. In those moments I knew - I have a bonafide sister!!!
And if anyone ever doubts our relatedness...I just want to share with you her text to my brother on Saturday:
"I just remembered why I hate the west coast so much. They killed Biggie."
-SisterMess to her husband, expounding on her opinion on why Coachella sucked.
So, Bitch, welcome to the family....for keeps this time!
p.s. I just bought "Sweet Valley Confidential: 10 Years Later" to celebrate finally having my dream come true. I will likely be writing an online book report about it. If anyone wants to read along and form a bitchy, virtual, foul mouthed book club focused on brain candy - let me know!