It is like being in a meat factory and I am a cow.
Gena on high school.
Today is my sister’s 17th birthday. I don’t know what to say except … life would be an endless winter without her.
May your dreams take flight, dear Gena.
That back is mine.
Photo by Steph Goralnick at the Photojojo Food Photography Safari in December 2008, from Michael Cirinos’s (rather delayed) write-up.
That event was one of the times I was talking about. The place was packed. He was demo’ing homemade vermouth and block ice-cutting. He was not there to make drinks. And I turn to my sister and say, “We need a Ramos. Watch this.” (She’d known since Thanksgiving that I kinda liked him. Or maybe more than kinda….*) I sidle up to the bar, put on a smile, and ask for one of the most labor-intensive drinks in a barman’s repertoire. I’m sure he had to run to the kitchen for cream. But of course he made it without so much as a grimace.
I returned triumphant and very generously shared it with Gena.
And I conveniently blocked this from my memory, but my Flickr set doesn’t lie — I went back and asked for another one for my Dad! Shameless.
Evidence:
Well, the boy knew what was good for him. A couple of weeks later (Jan. 15th to be exact!) we were going on our first date and by Mardi Gras I consented to the title of Girlfriend. (Strung him along on that one for a bit. Never a bad idea.)
* Full disclosure: we went to see “Slumdog Millionaire” over Thanksgiving weekend. Afterward, I said, as nonchalantly as I could manage, “Indian guys are hot, don’t you think?”
“NORA,” Gena said, “I know exactly who you’re talking about.”
“No I’m not! I just mean, y’know, in general.”
Sisters know best.
“It’s funny,” M. said, as we sat around the dinner table a few days after Christmas, “you don’t look alike, but you’re unmistakably sisters.”
“Is it the shape of our heads?” I suggested. “Our smiles?”
“No,” he replied. “I think it’s entirely your mannerisms.”
“So we’re alike in person, but not in photos?” I asked.
“You don’t think mannerisms come across in photos?” he countered.
And then everyone laughed because everyone knows we have a certain “Sherman girl pose” always at the ready at the first sight of a camera. (Tilt of the chin, twinkle in the eye.)
And then Gena took out her camera and we demonstrated, with M.’s help.
(His needs a little work, but it’s getting there.)
Gena and I are looking mighty fresh this morning.
Gena’s Car Report (or: My Sister is Awesome)
Gena, who will turn 17 in January, really wants her own car. So she researched and wrote a 5-page report, complete with 3 tables, on why she — nay, the whole family — need a third car to join their Prius and Ford Escape Hybrid. (She told me that she considered recommending they buy a third Prius but, as she put it, “A two-Prius family? Could you GET more condescending?”)
Here’s an excerpt:
A third car would be beneficial to the Sherman-Sherman family for many reasons. With this in mind, I put into account my family’s specifications for the optimal car, and then went to consumerreports.com to start my search.
The members of our family have varying views on what they are looking for in a car, but for the most part, they are pretty similar. For the purpose of this paper, I am going to exclude Nora from having an opinion in this, even though she is a very loved and cherished member of the family.
[She goes on to compare 7 new car models according to 13 criteria, and settles on 3 recommendations: the Toyota RAV4, Honda CR-V, and Subaru Forrester.]
I am also going to address a final question that is on everyone’s minds; Why do we need a third car? Well, in the hunter and gatherer sense of the word, we don’t! We don’t even need two cars, or one. But, we do have two cars, because the life we lead and the city we live in requires it. Every single day, our family spreads itself across Minnesota to places you would never imagine. […]
Also, I think my having access to a car would make me much more responsible, more adept at managing my time, and also stop the bad habit that plagues me which is procrastination. Since I will have to drive myself to school and work, pay insurance, and keep up my top A grades, I will be really busy. I will have to manage my time to start my homework and projects when they are assigned, study daily, go to work so I can pay for insurance, and also balance my social life between it all. It is a huge responsibility, I admit, but I know I am ready. […]
Good luck, G!
oh my god my school has dead stuffed kittens arranged to look like they are playing. how freaking creepy is that? one looks exactly like wilkes/kitty. fucking spanish royalty.
Gena
Don’t ask, ‘cause this makes no more sense to me.
Update: her school was once a palace (“they have some really freaking weird shit in that place”). And there is a mama cat watching over her taxidermied babies.
While I was just talking to dad, I showed him the new clothes I bought, explained to him how I lost my phone, and then spilled tea next to my computer.
I officially know how it feels to be you.
While I was just talking to dad, I showed him the new clothes I bought, explained to him how I lost my phone, and then spilled tea next to my computer.
I officially know how it feels to be you.
Gena.
Truth from the mouth of babes.
boy brain
Gena: there is this kid in my class, SUPER HOTTT and all i can do is imagine him naked! he basically has no clothes!this has never happend! its not even imagining. just one day i was in class and voila, naked
Nora: that is an amazing power that should be used for good
Gena: IT SUCKS when it is used in class
Actually it just sucks in general because if you are lucky enough to see through somebody's clothes in class you really don't want to be in class and you really don't want to be seeing through clothes you just want naked.
like, he's really hot
actually more sexy
his name is GUILLERMO
and he has a semi mullet but its definitely workin for him... or something
Nora: you are cracking me up. must. blog.
Gena: no seriously
like i don't know how this happened. my brain just turned into a boys brain
i have a boy brain
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