Well, apparently, my youngest sister Gretchen has been feeling increased anti-sister angst since the post I made oh, what, like three months ago? More? about the wine/cheese/bread party with Ilona, and how she is my best friend. Really, I should have known better than to bare my deepest feelings like that. Turns out, I may think Ilona is MY best friend, but (alas) I am not hers. Where's the sisterhood in that?
And now Gretchen has been simmering with indignation that she does not hold the same place in my heart. Apparently, she thinks she should share the pedestal with Ilona (and I'm wondering if I should just shove both of them off--the pedestal, that is, not the mortal coil--and find a BFF who will reciprocate my devotion).
But since Gretchen has been bugging me now for too long to have her own ODE published on my blog, here it is.
Oh Gretchen
faithful gentle tweezer
of mine eyebrows
thou bastion of fashion and
movie watching panolply
THOU who hast bravely
applied dye to my headly follicles
in what is (unbeknownst to thee and me)
a vain effort at beautification
because not even the most discriminating of
critics can tell the difference between
Mocha Brown and our natural color
THOU who hast designs upon the industries
of theatre and music
who hast shared thine voice with
untold countless masses
with undiminished benificence
My thanks is heartily rendered for the
following acts of service:
FIRST: for quaffing the elixir of joy
with reckless abandon and infusing
the homestead with laughter
SECOND: for sneezing like a cat, almost always seven times
THIRD: for inspiring creative cooking from
the paternal units with thine foodish
allergies
FOURTH: for filling our lives with song
FIFTH: for acting as my surrogate child
when I was pubescent and beginning to feel
motherly inclinations
SIXTH: for nearly always happily agreeing
to play babysitter
For being a treasure and almost always happy
EXCEPT WHEN YOU'RE NOT,
I thank you.
For music and kidwatching,
I thank you.
And if I decide to let Ilona keep her honored position
in my mental hierarchy, I promise to push her over
A BIT
so you can climb aboard.
There: are you happy now?
4 comments:
Kir, I think I'm afraid of playing you in Scrabble. Quaffing the elixir? Both of those words would have been worth a ton of points and I don't even know what they mean in the way that you used them. The whole BFF thing is hilarious... it reminds me of the "what number speed dial am I?" dilemma.
for clarification....friend bff and sister bff are two entirely different ranking systems....A friend is that...just a friend...you, kir, and your meaning to me can't be described with a silly title like bff...you are and always have been so much more.
gretch and I better get some smaller buts if we are going to be sharing a pedastal. :-)
for clarification....friend bff and sister bff are two entirely different ranking systems....A friend is that...just a friend...you, kir, and your meaning to me can't be described with a silly title like bff...you are and always have been so much more.
gretch and I better get some smaller buts if we are going to be sharing a pedastal. :-)
Well, I am astounded. I left like my worth as your sister was more of a short poem or sonnet, then of this ode or epic poetry my eyes were fancied to. I love it. I love you. I love Ilona. And yet I have no BFF of mine own. Not one that has the same unique qualities to yet be my BFF. So to tell you the truth, dearest sister of mine, what I really wanted, is not a blog about me, but a BFF. Which perhaps is not you, nor my other beloved sister--but she may still be out there waiting for me to just open up (which is a trying thing for me to do with anyone these days).
But well said, Kir, I appreciate what you have said about me, and now know what in my life has been such a big influence on yours.
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