This is my sister, Jennifer. She is also my best friend, even though she ignores most of my calls and never listens to my very important voice mails about where to get a free donut or you should call mom because she said you’re not answering her calls either and she thinks you might be dead. I KNOW YOU’RE THERE. Also, she is never on time and if you think you will be the one to change that, you are wrong. YOU ARE WRONG! One time, when my sister decided to throw my dad a surprise birthday party on Halloween, my brother and I were running late and despite the fact that my sister is never on time to anything like funerals, parties, dinners, book club meetings and my wedding, she was very upset and she kicked that plastic jack-o-lantern so hard it left an orange scuff mark on the side of her kitchen cabinet that she still can’t get off. It’s a permanent reminder of what can happen if you show up to her house an hour before guests are to arrive with a shrimp platter that got all smashed up in the backseat of your car.
She and I have a lot in common, most specifically that we’ve inherited the greatest neurosis of our forefathers and foremothers. That means that we want you to do your part and clean the house, but we also want you to follow a few very specific rules and if you don’t do it right we’re going to have to re-do it and well, FUCK IT, I’ll just do it my God damn self.
While growing up, my sister didn’t really love to spend time with me. She thought I was kind of irritating and looking back, she’s right. I was. I also thought she was bossy and didn’t like her telling me what to do. YOU ARE NOT THE BOSS OF ME is a saying that originated in a small rambler in Shoreline, Washington sometime near 1986. One afternoon, when we had come home from school but before my parents had come home, she told me to take the garbage out and I was fed up! I wasn’t going to take that kind of abuse – being told to do my chores! NO WAY! NOT ANYMORE! So I kicked her in the knee, hard. And that is when my sister experienced her first complete emotional breakdown.
Jennifer loves animals. She probably loves your pets more than you do. A little known fact is that my sister and I are the ones keeping the Seattle veterinary community employed. If there is anyone who spends more money on her pets than we do, it is my sister. She has a large binder of medical bills for all her dogs. A BINDER FILLED WITH LOVING CARE AND THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS IN OINTMENTS AND DIABETES MEDICATIONS. She deserves a punch card – buy 10 surgeries get one free. Also applies to husbands with a particularly high rate of injury and fragile existence.
She is deathly afraid of needles, which is particularly terrifying when you’re a younger sister at the dentist for your first filling and your older sister is crying hysterically and practically throwing punches when approached with the Novocaine.
Jennifer is a lawyer and I say that with great pride because she’s never given me bad advice except for that one time when she was in law school and she advised me to subpoena the officer who gave me a speeding ticket “because they never come to the hearings and if they don’t, they throw your ticket out.” You know what? Don’t take advice from your sister until she’s actually a lawyer, because maybe that officer will show up to the hearing and maybe you’ll be forced to ask him questions like “oh, hey, uhh…how does that radar work?” Then the prosecutor will OBJECT! and you’ll have nothing further to ask but for directions to the cashier’s counter so you can just pay your $150 ticket and drive back home. But when I had an accident on the freeway and totaled my parents car, she was the first one to come and help me and tell my parents that Oh, hey, that terrible accident you passed on your way to that Christmas party 20 minutes ago? That was Linsey. She is the best person to have on your side during a crisis.
Jennifer likes celebrity gossip, chicken souvlaki with feta and no onions, NCIS and Coke Zero.
Jennifer dislikes rats, needles, spiders and liver.