Ok, so my sister Pam was supposed to guest-write my blog on Saturday. But we went to Miami Beach and had too many mojitos to organize thoughts or anything else, so we postponed it until Sunday. She sat down to write it after I promised to set her up with a bonus glass of wine late on Sunday night. She wrote a few paragraphs, deleted them, wrote a few more, deleted them and said, “I can’t do this.” The rest of us were watching the Oscars and talking, and hardly noticed she was even at the computer.
She of course could so do this. If it was a matter of not enough wine, I could have accommodated her. We’ve been making daily runs to Winn Dixie during this sisters’ get-together to buy reinforcements. (They’ve been showing their appreciation by putting all the Kendall Jackson on sale all week.)
Truth be told, I’m happy to sit here at 12:30 a.m. Monday and write this short blog post. My sisters are multi-talented women to be reckoned with. Even my mother-in-law said, “I’m sick of hearing about how creative your sisters are.” I’ve written about my sisters before. Among the fun we’re having this week: We’ve been to a quilt shop and bought supplies to make a couple different things; we’re making the envelope liners for my niece’s wedding invitations; they took pictures of designer clothes, bedding and linens in upscale shops so they can go home to their basement sewing rooms and make them for a fraction of the cost; and they bought Italian writing paper to make stuff out of. It’s like shopping with Coco Chanel. I tag along like the sister that was switched at birth. Somewhere in a trailer, there’s a family saying, “What’s with little Miss Thang here, color contrast-coordinating the curtains with the placemats?”
So if I’m the only one willing to pour another glass of wine and write a blog at – what is it now . . . – 12:45 a.m., it makes me feel pretty good about myself. And a sisters’ get-together is all about self-esteem. If you end it with less than you started with, you’re not doing it right.
Pam said she wanted to write about our brother, who gets left out of a lot of these things, because he’s a boy. But we love him a lot and we probably should get the word out on that via the Internet. Then she said maybe she’d write about how women are so much better at bonding than men. (Most of our husbands have tried this sort of thing before with less success.) Then she was going to write about our childhoods and growing up in a working class neighborhood.
“Oh, keep it light,” someone said. We’re not dramatic or sentimental, and somebody who’s having trouble writing a blog isn’t going to get a lot of sympathy out of this crowd.
She kept it so light, her page was blank when she grabbed her wine glass and sat down to watch Jeff Bridges accept his Oscar.
Diane will accept sympathy cards when her sisters leave at diane.laney.fitzparick@gmail.com.