The 80's Never Went Away. Except For the Hair. Which Went To New Jersey.

This is a picture taken the day of my mom's second marriage. Let's make fun of my sister's Mt. Vesuvius hair. Only we can't because then you'll ask me why I was wearing that ridiculous pink and white surfer sweater to a wedding in PARIS FUCKING FRANCE, the city where haute couture was born. My mother stared at that sweater until I could feel her eyeballs waltzing through my lower intestines. She asked me if I was going to change before the ceremony and I was like, "Naaaoooooooohh."

This was the late 80's and those stockings on my mom and sister are back in style. The black lizard purse with a jade clasp was my sister's, a gift from an English boyfriend who knew how to shop. My mother kept it because she also knows how to shop. I've had the same hairdo since the first grade. Sad.

Friday morning a SIG alert on the 405/101 interchange was on TV. A truck had plowed into a white BMW and killed two people. My sister drives a white BMW. I looked for the fin on the back and it was there. I went completely ballistic because I knew they had an early doctor's appointment for my mother and that's the route we both use to go back and forth. I called Lindy's cell, no answer. No answer at home either. I left post traumatic stress disorder messages in a basso profundo voice. "Call me immediately."

Then I paced and thought, good grief, I just lost my entire family. I'm an orphan. And the worst part? I DIDN'T KNOW WHERE THEY KEPT THEIR ONLINE BANKING PASSWORDS.

Lindy called me one minute later. I filled her in on what was going through my head when I saw the accident flash on the screen.

"There are more white BMWs in L.A. than white people and you thought it was mine?"
"It could have been."
"You're out of Xanax again aren't you?"
"Maybe."
"I'm hanging up."
"Before you go, roughly how much is that dining room buffet worth?"
"Asshole."

Man, people are so TOUCHY about their stuff.

End of chat.