THOSE WHO SUFFER LOVE
The Lost City Angels are fucking amazing.
And, boy, do I have a lot to talk about (and no motivation to talk about any of it).
One part, I know, will end up in an essay for school or something else just as worthless because my sense of how to create metaphores is so remarkably off kilter (and I feel more compelled to write about quintessential life moments than live through them;; i would rather live through someone else).
And letting the kind of secrets you only share with strangers come out into open air, as your sitting on a trampoline at three in the morning in the valley as you watch shooting stars and your Misfits shoelaces glow in the dark, is a kind of experience I'm not sure I can go through more than once.
As to the Anniversary party, while the number of witty comments I could make could range in the thousands, I'm still incredibly bitter about the whole experience.
For being the oldest, it's nice to know I'm thought of as "the other granddaughter".
Anyone notice how I was the one serving the food and you were the one's eating?
Anyone?
How I worked the WHOLE TIME and you didn't do a damn thing?
Yeah, sure, all the other cousins may be the smart ones, and the pretty ones, and the successful ones, and the charistmatic ones...
But I'm the nice one.
Cause I didn't even yell at you once, even while you asked me to pour you another glass of ice water, please?