Tuesday, November 23, 2010

A Conversation With My Sister

This is my little sister. Doesn't she look all calm and serene here? 

Don't be fooled.

This is how the conversation went:

I'm gonna tell you something.


You can't tell anyone.

Why not?


Not even Dominick?


Not even people that don't know you?


I'm not sure I can handle that kind of responsibility.

Are you serious?

OK, let me mentally prepare myself.

Are you done?

Yup. What's the secret?

Are you sure you can keep your mouth shut?

I think so. No, I'm sure. 

I have a blog.

HAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHAAAAAA! Hhahahahhaha...Are you kidding me?

Shut up.

Oh my god, I am so embarrassed for you! hahahahahhahaha.

Nevermind. Geez.

Why? What's the point of having a blog if no one reads it? Why can't I tell anyone?


Hahahahha...oh my god, what if it's bad? I'm so embarrassed for you.

Do you want to read it or what?


Stop laughing!

I embarrass easily...Oh my god, I'm so embarrassed.
OK, what's the website?

It's www.

Stop, I can't handle it right now. What if it's bad? I'm so embarrassed. 

You really don't want to know the website?



I can't handle it. I'm scared of what comes after the last w.


So, I think my dog is possessed.

I can't believe you don't want to read my blog.

You should see what Tyler was for Halloween.

I can't believe you won't read my blog.

He was Forrest Gump after he ran for three years.

You're the only one I was brave enough to tell.

Did you know that mom and dad are going to the beach this weekend?

I can't believe you're scared of my blog.

Mom bought our Christmas presents yesterday.

You can tell me if its bad. I'm okay with that since no one else is going to see it.

I don't know what she got us. I didn't ask.

Fine. You're boring.



This is an accurate shot of her personality. Loud, fun, slightly obnoxious, hilarious.

She was so proud of her pink ski pants when we went to Colorado last winter. She wanted us to be able to find her on the if there was any chance of us losing her. 

We're not that lucky. Kidding! Sort of. 

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