i walked past the mirrored door on my super-huge room-length jumbo closet today (are you totally jealous?! that's the response i'm going for...) and i thought:
"if i had a totally awesome big sister, this is what she would have worn in 1992."
and then i might have gotten a little nervous, so i added, "and she would have had a LOT of friends."
then i went to my studio and played a game called "Posing Like It's 1992. Seriously Guys."
i've decided that it's ok to share the poses, "Action Shot," "What's Up?!?!" and "A Second Ago I Was Doing 'Jazz Hands'," with you:
"A Second Ago I Was Doing Jazz Hands"
i also decided that i would like to share a close-up of my back-side with you.
ha ha. just kidding. it's the belt:
ok, did you notice what's going on there?
that's my Most Favorite Belt Of All Time. i got it at a thrift store for a quarter. it says "New Mxico" in beads. as opposed to "New Mexico," everybody's favorite 47th state.
i think it might have been made in a work-rehabilitation program for inmates on the planet, "Moon?" i mean, that's what i'm hoping.
wow. i'm laughing at my own stupid jokes now.
(it's funny 'cause there aren't inmates on the moon... and also because the moon is not a planet. everyone knows it's a satellite of the earth... get it?!?!)
yesterday The Other Citizen and i were reclaiming our clothes from the communal "clean laundry pile."
despite the fact that he's 9 years younger, 7 inches taller, 50 pounds heavier than me and also a boy, we both have a penchant for wearing dark skinny women's jeans and xs american apparel tee-shirts and boy-shorts in the colors red, green and gray.
there might have been some bickering over who's was whose.
at some point The Other Citizen decided it would be funny if he started treating the laundry pile like a free-for-all, and began making a scene of picking his own things up, making a disgusted face, throwing them into my pile, and then excitedly snatching up things like my ruffled floral tank tops and rainbow striped miniskirts.
it was funny for a minute. (ok, five...)
but then he crossed the line.
we both saw - and dove for - my red winnie the pooh undies at the same exact moment. (my mom bought them for me, ok?)
obviously The Other Citizen reached them first, because he's vicious and his arms are longer.
this was not ok with me, and in a wild episode of "not thinking things through," i let him know exactly how i felt by shrieking at the top of my lungs:
"those are MY undies you moron! they have POOH on them!"
so if anyone knows how many times an 18-year-old boy has to repeatedly shout something you accidentallysaid every time you enter the room, before he stops laughing to the point of injuring himself - i'd love to know.