The Best Jazz Hands Picture Ever Is In This Blog

Do you think it's a problem that at least twice a day I wish there was a middle finger emoticon on my phone?  


Never for any true anger issue I'm having.  It's primarily to use with my sister.  


There should be sister emoticons! 


We wouldn't need many.  We could basically get by with the following emoticons:

• Glasses of wine
• The word husband crossed out
• The word husband with hearts around it
• The middle finger
• Children with hearts around them
• Children crossed out
• A scale crossed out  

Side note:  Dad- don't send me an email about how giving the middle finger to my sister is inappropriate.  Also, she uses swear words, you should talk to her about that. 

Second side note:  Now that I made that a small font my dad won't be able to read it anyway.


My sister is the one in this post. Yes, she is The Camel Toe Screamer.  

For the first time since I moved, my sister and I will see each other next week.   Our brother is getting married in North Carolina, and no nuptials are complete without two loudmouthed, sarcastic sisters.  I'm sure my future sister in law will be so pleased!

It's been hard being without my sister.  She lived literally down the street (not in that asshole way that other people use the word literally, I mean she truly lived down the street) from me for the last several years. 

Luckily, since moving we've discovered that we can drink coffee together via Skype.  It's not totally the same, but you know what your 1st grade teacher said to you.  You get what you get, and you don't get upset.

When we Skype, for some reason we always choose to do it at 10am so we can "watch" The View.  So basically we spend an hour talking to each other with the conversation broken up with the occasional following statements:

Seriously, Whoopie?  Those shoes and that tent don't go together.

Sheri, you're making money now honey.  It's time to put some money into your wigs.

Shut up, Elisabeth.  We know you have kids/are Republican/know Sarah Palin.

Jackie is the one who watched my first baby until the baby was nearly 3 years old while I worked, and she's the one who came over in the middle of the night when I went into labor with my second kid.  She's brought me Brie and wine more times than I can count.  She makes me laugh that deep belly laugh that so few people can.


She also has this horrid picture of me eating a strawberry that she'll likely whip out and post on the internet if I ever do her wrong.  


Not to worry though, friends.  I have ways of getting a picture of her wearing a red, white and blue dance outfit while doing jazz hands in her youth.  It's KILLER.

                                                               
Sweet mother of pearl!  This is not my sisters picture, but I've spent 10 minutes doing the laugh/cry over this beauty and I had to share!


On a sad note, I had those glasses around 4th grade.  Thanks, Mom!


Anyway, in just a few days we shall be reunited!  And it shall annoy everyone around us, because that's how we roll.  

Here we are in 3D glasses.  I look so much cooler than her.

The Day Andrew Bogut Met Me

Because my mom lived in Minnesota and my dad lived in Virginia while I was growing up, I spent a great deal of time traveling on a plane as a kid.  We were always those kids you’d see taking up the 3 seats in a row near the bulk head, wearing airplane wings and acting like little shits because we were currently between parents.  For many reasons, airplane travel has spilled into my adult life.  After 30ish years of traveling, I have some great stories.  Actually, they are not so much great as they will make you hope to never share airspace with me or my family.

One of my first travel memories occurred during a layover my sister and I had while traveling to our dad's. I swear we spent half our childhood hanging out during a layover. Now, at this time I was in high school and my younger sister was in junior high, therefore, she got to hear my friends and I use all sorts of questionable language and held a permanent front row seat to our immaturity.  One of the phrases we found highly entertaining was “camel toe”  (Yes, I am blogging about camel toes.  The best part is that I may pop up in a google search for camel toes now.  My parents must be so proud!)  I walked away for a moment and my sister heard the boarding call over the loudspeaker.  What happened next took place in slow motion.  I made eye contact with my sister who was quite a distance away just in time to hear her yell out, “HEY CAMEL TOE, OUR FLIGHT IS BOARDING!”.   Now, my sister being young and innocent, thought that camel toe was just a name my friends and I had for each other that she didn’t understand.  She did not know the true definition of the word or that everyone knows what it means, and time stood still as the entire airport turned dead silent and stared at us.  At least that’s how I remember it.  

Fast forward to years later, my husband and I were on a flight sometime during my first trimester of pregnancy.  During the flight he noticed that Andrew Bogut was on our plane and  he was hopeful that we could catch a glance of Mr. Bogut before we landed.  Through the flight G.R. shared information about this athlete while I did what I always do when someone talks to me about sports, my eyes glazed over and I started trying to remember what that one guy on the movie Cocktail said the name of the hard plastic end part on the shoelace is called (Flugalbinder).  The plane started its descent, and things got a wee bit bumpy.  I started feeling a little icky.  Then I started to look green.  Then our plane landed and I was so thankful to have gotten through it.  G.R. watched for Andy B.( I can call him that) to come down the aisle as I sat there trying to gather myself and wait for my nausea to subside.  At the same time that G.R. said, “Here he is!”  I grabbed the air sickness bag and let er rip.  Here is what’s unbelievable- G.R. has never once thanked me for making sure that Andrew Bogut noticed him.  I mean, he may not have even spotted G.R. if I had not hurled loudly in the strange silence that happens while a plane is deboarding.  

My last story again brings us back to my sister.  My husband and I refer to her as Jackie, as her relationship to us is similar to the character of Jackie on Roseanne.  
Anyway, our two families were flying together and we had already annoyed most of the Milwaukee airport with our hi-jinks and now were irritating the people of Detroit during a layover.  They announced our flight was boarding and Jackie, who struggles a little with grace, called to her family to get it together and get on the plane with her.  She picked up her giant purse and started walking forward with great purpose and dignity between two seats in the lobby.  The problem being that the two seats had one of those low tables between them that people can set books, etc upon.  Jackie walked directly into the table and flipped over it, pretty much onto the lap of a business man who was trying to be kind but found it hilarious. Jackie jumped up and, saying nothing, walked past all of us who were having a hysterical laughing fit. She kept going down the tunnel to board the plane and away from her humiliation.  She then tripped on...well probably nothing, and threw an arm up on the wall to steady herself, but instead put her hand on a print on the wall and she just tore that bad boy right down.  I don’t know how they got me on the plane I was laughing so hard.  I’m super supportive like that.

So what fun traveling misadventures have you had?