Sisters are doing it for themselves.

Duped into doing the bidding of my evil landlord (also goes by the name stepfather) I decided to make the best of my weekend with Deanna and, more importantly, my digital camera.

To prove to the world that I'm not a sad spinster who stays in the house all of the time, we went on a walk and then hit the local mall. Full of old people and punk teenagers and people I know from highschool but would prefer not to acknowledge. Magical!

I'd have you note the little tuft of hair sticking out on my sister's forehead. Apparently there was a piece of hair there bothering her one day and instead of tucking it behind an ear or parting her hair differently, she cut it off. Yes, she's left to her own devices quite a lot. I've heard at least two stories now about how she nearly set the kitchen on fire. So now we're left with an odd tuft of hair but I guess we should be glad she still has her eyebrows.



On our walk I made Deanna crouch behind some greenery. You can tell by the look on her face that she was ultra impressed with big sister playing at photographer.

After the mall we went to the park where Deanna immediately made a friend. Maybe I was hyper anti-social as a child, but never seemed like it was that easy to make friends. Within five minutes Deanna and this kid were trading life stories, like how many teeth they'd lost and who could swing higher.

Deanna's new friend was also kind enough to say that she thought I was Deanna's mom. It's not that I haven't got it before, but at least it made a little bit more sense when Deanna was a baby. Now, at 22, I apparently look old enough to have given birth to an eleven-year-old. Guess it's suicide again for me.


Finally, I give you a pineapple. Doesn't really fit in the narrative, I suppose, but picture me and Deanna in the grocery store taking pictures of produce and laughing at ourselves. Amusing non?


Over the Hedge tomorrow. Deanna and I are slaves to the Disney/Pixar machine.