Monday, February 9, 2009

Sisterly Weekend, Part I.

After my fun filled Friday of drinking alone and thoroughly dominating the remote control, Saturday involved a short road trip with one sister to visit the other in college.

I picked up Katsisch and forced her to listen to "Dirty Diana" on repeat, intent on teaching her all the lyrics by the end of the ninety minute car ride because the last time I saw Yellavitch she didn't believe me that it was an actual song, and I was committed to making Yellavitch feel stupid for not knowing something.

My sisters are like, Crazy Brilliant. To a grand, beleaguering degree. And then, no matter the topic, our conversations are never light or respectful. Whatever we say to each other is dubious and corrupt, and everyone is stupid. And sneaky. We weren't sisters that confided in each other. In general, we're not the type of people that really confide in anyone, and probably because as sisters, we're full of nothing but ridicule and fierce reactions. Because none of us trust anyone, let alone each other.

In comparison to the two of them, who are both younger than me, I'm the sweet, simple sister. I have no idea what kind of crafty-person savage-logic is twisting around in their heads.

For example, take this brutal conversation:

I walk up to Yellavitch. "I like your hair."

She squints suspiciously. "Why do you all of a sudden care about my hair?"

"I just like it today." I shrug and smile.

The air feels fuzzy, like someone just turned up the volume on everything: the wind, cars driving down outside, the click of the zipper on my sweatshirt. My sister's voice. "You have never given a shit about my hair before," she laughs in that haughty, aggressive way that always pisses me off. "What the hell do you want?"

Sigh. "I want you to know I like your hair."

"Do you realize that if the only compliments you ever pay to me are in regards to my appearance, I'm going to associate positive reactions with my looks and looks alone?"

Stormclouds are swiftly gathering in the distance through the window, and I can't help feeling like she's making it happen with her brain.

She's all snide and coiled. "Why couldn't you say, 'I like how you're speaking today, your rhetoric is exceptional?' Would it be so hard," she swoops her arm for effect, and the wind groans against the door and my mind is panicky, because now I am convinced that my sister is like a fucking Weather Witch, "to stop conforming to the compliments that are properly prescribed by society and instead focus on aspects of me that are far more important than my fucking hair?" Thunder. Wind. Clouds. Thunder. Zipper. Clacking. She points. "See? It's people like you--you are the reason we place so much--"

"You know what?" I interrupt before she can lay some crazy weather curse on me. "Fuck your fucking hair. You should just give up and shave it all off, because you look like the back end of a shitting goat." Inner thought process as I turn and leave the room: Crap, I should have said Teen Wolf. DAMMIT. Say it anyway. Say it. SAY IT. So I smuggly turn, and add, "Or Teen Wolf." And then I turn back around, because I'm proud of myself.

"WHAT? Oh my god, that makes no sense whatsoever. That would have been so much better of an insult if you hadn't said that," Yellavitch laughs, like this is the most triumphant moment of her life. More lightening. Thunder. "You really can't do anything right."

And that is what it's like being around me and my sisters. Always. So yes, when I know my sister is wrong about "Dirty Diana," because it's an allegoric precurser to Almost Famous, I am pointing it out and digging in with all the firepower I have.

And by "firepower" I mean "my other sister."



Mrs. Booms said...

We should put your sister in the cage with my kid brother and let them go at it.

But your sister would eat my bro for lunch. He'd argue the whole way though and by the end your sister might believe she actually IS the man.

PS Is it wrong that Citizen Kane is on TV and I'm watching The Sopranos?

Gwen said...

I can't believe you complimented her hair instead of her rhetoric. What the hell is wrong with you? Your sister sounds exhausting, but I also kind of sort of wish she were my sister. I'd withhold all praise regarding her intellect. It would drive her crazy and I would love every minute of it.

Rassles said...

Boomer: It's so easy to skip Citizen Kane, because it's boring, and we all know it's the fucking sled.

Gwen: She's really only like that around me and my other sister. Her friends think she's this like, good-natured smart girl. They're wrong.

Bird Shit said...

OMG could she have just said thank you and took the damn compliment! lol

The Ambiguous Blob said...

Bitch doesn't know how to take a compliment. I'm sorry for calling your sister a bitch.
Also, good move on the Teen Wolf. Who cares if it didn't make sense?

Nikki B. said...

I wish I had a sister...

Anonymous said...

That's it! I leaving immediately to drive 160 miles to my brother's house, give him a very serious compliment, and then leave. He is more paranoid than a tweeker in church and it will drive him insane. Make him want to black my eye and ruin my credit. And make him love me more.
It's all about all of the driving, you know. He would totally respect that.

Anonymous said...

Sounds like there's a very good chance your sister is indeed a weather witch. If that's the case, you could make some serious money by insulting her and dropping her off somewhere, like Ethiopia.

But you wouldn't want to do that to your sister, would you?

Anonymous said...

Conversations with my sister usually go like this:

Me: Get me a beer.
Her: Get your own fucking beer.
(repeat until one of you passes out.)

Anonymous said...

Oh, and for the record, conversations with my brother follow the same general pattern.

Kitty said...

Your writing style is brilliant, Rassles.

You should write a book, I would totally preorder that.

paperback reader said...

But how does her rhetoric look in a miniskirt?

Rassles said...

BS and BC: Exactly. But to be fair, I think it's one of like, ten times I've ever been all, "I like your hair." And the times I have said it, whoever receives the compliment always thinks I need something.

Ambiblob: Not offended at all. Both sisters are total bitches. And Yell's all about shattering stereotypes and changing mindsets, and in doing so, she exemplifies the overly-political liberal stereotype.

Nikki: I wish I had a brother. So we're even.

Mongo: Driving is difficult. Oh, but right now it's all sunny and breezy and slightly warm, and I just want to head out the highway and disappear. It's the perfect day to disappear.

Wolf: If she is indeed a weather witch, she would be totally down with storming up Ethiopa. She's one of those "save the world" types.

Franklin: Yeah. We do that too.

Kitty: Thanks! If I had the drive to actually sit down and tell a story with a point to it, that might work. But all I have is conversations.

Pistols: Her hair probably wouldn't look too good in a miniskirt, either. And she like, runs and works out and stuff, so it would probably look good. But in her 21 years, I don't think she's worn a skirt more than four times.

Gypsy said...

Your sister kind of scares me. In a delicious sort of way.

My word verification thingy is stritsho. Talk about the devil's language.

Rassles said...

She really is wonderful. Sometimes.

Bluestreak said...

Rassles, this is one of your "best of Rassles". Fucking hilarious. I´m sending it to my sister right now.

Rassles said...

Thanks, Bluesy.