Dear my dearest, darling little brother,

I would be fine if you were gay.  I would even be alright if you proclaimed you were transexual.  If you suddenly announced that you were moving to Tahiti to be a panhandler with your Hell's Angel girlfriend, I would not stutter in surprise.

But pleaseto be keeping your UNEXPECTED BUSH SUPPORTER IS UNEXPECTED thoughts to yourself.  They will cause me to walk into the wall.

All my love, 
Your newly concussed sister

I was a little confused why you seemed to think light controlled time, and that going through a black hole would send you back in time. I've taken a great many Physics and Astronomy courses, so I was pretty certain going through a black hole would just get you ripped into individual atoms. I am always up for intellectual debate though, and because no one really knows what goes on in a black hole, I thought we'd have a good discussion.

I did not expect to be told that I was obviously crazy, or lying, or both, and that I should be ashamed for shunning the "spirit". That same Spirit who possessed you several times, and apparently knows everything that I know, only better.

As convincing as your derogatory rants and incoherent babbling were, I'm afraid I'm going to have to vote no on letting you into my program. No matter how much you insist that "of course light controls time, otherwise, why would we use sundials?", it will not change the fact that you are immature.

Take a chill pill, and relax. Debate does not mean scream insults at the other person. Come back to college when you can accept that.

All my love,
Fred

P.S.- We tell time with sundials because the sun moves, and casts shadows in different places, depending on what time of day it is, darling. Not because the light is somehow changing time. I don't even know how that would work.

I was forced to watch Transamerica earlier tonight. I cried like a baby, and then some.

It distresses me that I cannot find fic for this movie. You can't leave me hanging here! I have a genuine, medical NEED for something cute and fluffy (and possibly involving recreational drug use/talking about the Horrors Of The Past, I am not picky). I need something to offset the pain of this movie's end.

I also would maybe like to see Bree/Toby fic. LOOK, I NEVER CLAIMED I WAS STABLE, OKAY?

So you see this car?  



This is a Mercedes S-Class 550 Sedan, and it is a very nice car.  Very, very nice.  It starts at about $91,225.  That's the same price as this house, right here.



It's a very nice car. A very nice car that I just tried to carjack outside a Barnes and Noble.

(I'm so very sorry sir.  Your car is beautiful, and I apologize that I'm car-illiterate and mistook it for my piece-of-crap Audi.  Please don't press charges - I wouldn't last long in prison, for I have no upper body strength and the confidence of a spooked armadillo.)

Oh dear sweet baby Jesus, there is FIVE TO SIX INCHES of snow outside of my window.  FIVE to SIX inches.  And it is February.  I don't know if I can handle this madness.  The last time I saw real snow, it was two and a half years ago.  I don't have a coat.  SNOW.  

Oh shit.  I have to drive in this ridiculousness tomorrow.  

***

It was my birthday party today.  I got pretty pretty presents.  One was a St. Jude pendant that is the exact same length as my cross, so I am going to the mall tomorrow to get my cross chain shortened.  

I also got a t-shirt that says "Haikus are easy / But sometimes don't make much sense /  Hippopotamus".  I had to explain to everyone what a haiku was, which was tragic and more ridiculous than the snow (SNOW!), because seriously?  You don't know what a haiku is?  ...Seriously? 

AND I got a bag that says "Leave now, before I shed my human skin and eat you."  It is very appropriate, and I'm going to take it everywhere.  

***

I applied for an internship at my Daddy's company.  My online password is nepotism, and they will pay me nineteen dollars an hour if I get it.  This is exciting.  

Less exciting was the realization that after I get done SELLING MY SOUL for good grades, I will have to work forty-hour-work-weeks all summer, so that I can afford to go to Peru next summer, and grad school after that.  

Damn you, real life.  Quit messing with my pool time.