A field guide to growing up without growing apart
So I’ve faced mortality this week. A whole boatload of it. And to be honest I’m not sure what I’ve learned. Or how I feel. Hopefully we’ll figure something out together. It began with putting our family dog down on Saturday. Rhoda is (was) our […]
Naughty Princesses Assemble! We’ve been at this whole blogging thing for a few months now (so far so good??) and I figured it was time you folks learned a bit more about the four of us and why we go by the pseudonyms we do! […]
Wow. Where to start… The last week has been insanely hard on me. My feet are covered in blisters, I can barely keep my eyes open, and there were moments where I felt so inconsequential it was heart breaking. But this week was also incredible; I learned so much about the world and myself and after seeing so many stories brought to life I am overwhelmed at trying to pick just one tell you. I grew up here in Park City and I feel like Sundance is something like my heritage. And while this film festival has meant different things to me over the years, it has always felt like an old friend, coming to visit and help me live in a way I usually wouldn’t. This is the first year I’ve lived at home since high school and being a local for Sundance again reminded me how much this town is part of me. So here follows, in no particular order, and in the form of the ever-astounding list, the things I learned over the first 7 days of Sundance 2013.
Day 1 (Thursday):
Day 2 (Friday):
Day 3 (Saturday):
Day 4 (Sunday):
Day 5 (Monday):
Day 6 (Tuesday):
Day 7 (Wednesday):
Jack Kerouac created something beautiful but he didn’t live a beautiful life. We saw Big Sur tonight and while it was shot perfectly and hearing Kerouac’s language was mesmerizing, the film didn’t paint a picture of a person I want anything to do with.
And it’s not over yet. 5 more days and countless more films to go!
Hello! This week’s post is going to be short and sweet (a rarity for me…), since I’m fresh off a fantastic weekend with our favorite Merskank and I’m flat out exhausted. It was WONDERFUL to have a fellow princess come stay (especially one who suggests […]
So, remember way back when I said my love life was too pathetic to write about, and that I preferred to render it into charming fiction? Well, sadly, this is still the case. After the events of last week, however, I don’t even know if […]
It’s that time of year again folks (no I’m not talking about bringing out the NSYNC Christmas CD. That happened a month ago of course), it’s the time of year when we make our lists and check them twice. We write lists of presents, lists of resolutions; lists of what we’re thankful for and what we’ll return. We ask ourselves what matters and who we want to be. We hope Santa will forgive our bad behaviors and grant our wildest wishes. We think hard about what we want in our lives and the things we want for others. So when Cinderslut sent us the “what would you change about your life right now” question this month, I was simply brimming with ideas. But as you read I couldn’t choose just one, mostly because I wasn’t sure I would really be happier with the change I asked for.
The thing is, that isn’t true. Well, it isn’t the whole truth anyway. There is one thing I’ve always wanted to change about my life; one thing I’ve asked Santa for and never got; one thing I miss more than anything. I will always want an older sister.
A few years after my brother was born I begged my parents for a younger sister. I could dress her up and teach her to play monopoly, or we could create our own concoctions in our Easy Bake Oven! Oh what fun we would have! When I found out my dad had tied his tubes, I cried (They hadn’t even consulted me!). And just like that my dream was gone. Don’t get me wrong, my brother is the best of the best, but there is something about a sister that just isn’t the same.
![My Sister%27s Voice 3[1]](http://twentysomethingcondition.files.wordpress.com/2012/12/my-sister27s-voice-31.jpg)
The most obvious thing I can’t do with my brother is share clothing, though admittedly I have stolen a shirt or two from his collection. I’ve worked hard to be someone he trusts talking about his relationships, but it gets tricky when we realize how unfair we are being to the other side; he can’t stand that I’ve done the same thing to guys that other girls have done to him. We share millions of memories, but many of them only briefly intersect, since I was sitting at the girls table and he was hanging with the boys. Both he and I have always relished our space, but in my latest state of 20-something turmoil I’ve needed a bit more attention than his newly-20 state of independence is like to provide. I love him and he is someone I’ll always be able to stay up all night talking to, but because he’s my little brother he and I can never be each other’s best friend. No matter how close we get, he’ll never quite fill that void.
As for girls, I grew up with a lot of them. My parents’ friends have daughters just a few years older than me who have become almost like sisters over the years. I have friends from elementary school that I still pick up from the airport and Skype with on weekends. Just a few days ago one of my friends from middle school told me I’ll be her maid of honor at her wedding next year and I even have a few friends from college (namely the Naughty Princesses) who I can tell anything to.
I have no shortage of girls who have been and continue to be like sisters in my life. But maybe that makes it even harder, because they all come so close. These girls understand some of where I come from, they understand how I grew up or why I’m scared of inaction. We can talk about boys or talk about politics; we can talk every day or only once every few months-it doesn’t matter, we always stay close no matter the distance. But none of them know all of me. No one has been by my side through all of it. I can’t yell at them like I can my brother. I don’t look at them and see myself. I never miss them like they’re part of me. A sister is that person who challenges me, who I’m not afraid to push back. How differently would I see myself if I had someone that similar by my side?
A few years ago I found out my mother had a late miscarriage right before she had me; a girl. Since then my older sister has become my unspoken daydream. I’ve imagined what she’d look like and what she’d think of my choices. I’ve thought about how proud she’d make me and how I’d get to be the cool aunt to her kids. Believing in her makes me feel young and protected; like she’s somewhere out there paving the way for me, like all I have to do is write her a letter and she’ll understand. She always knows the right thing to do, and has more fun than anyone I know. Sometimes I even bring her up with my brother, just to make her feel more real.
I know there are sisters out there who don’t get along and have little in common, but when I think about my sister I know our differences would only bring us closer. If some people have a hole in their heart where their first love is, then I have a space for her. She would have been my best friend and I think that the lack of her is the reason I do a lot of the things I do. I don’t think I’ll ever meet someone who’ll replace my sister, but sometimes around the holidays I wish I could.
A couple of weeks ago I had a teacher panic moment. It had been a rough week with my students; they just didn’t seem motivated, and all the lesson plans I had thought would work so well crashed and burned. I found myself wondering, “Am […]
For a girl, nothing is quite as liberating or quite as awkward as peeing outside. Boys don’t and can’t understand this. For them, it’s easy. All they have to do is whip it out. In twenty seconds or less the job is done. For us […]
Once upon a time, there were four naughty princesses. These princesses had just begun a new adventure in a land called college, but they had not yet met each other. If they knew they were naughty, it was a shadow of an inkling, an inner rebellious twitch that had not realized itself.
It is a fact universally acknowledged that in the land of college, friendships are often forged in mysterious ways. For the four naughty princesses, this initiation into friendship took the form of FunFetti cake, Trivial Pursuit, and naked stories. The princesses had gathered with a group of would-be friends to enjoy some FunFetti cake baked in an illicit toaster oven in The Little Merskank’s dorm room. As it happened the conversation took a turn for the titillating, and one by one the girls shared stories of the times they had been naked, or nearly naked. Being still quite innocent (not yet having embraced their inner naughtiness), most of these stories were tame. One involved almost skinny-dipping with a group of high school friends. Another recounted ice-boxing, Snow Whore’s favorite past-time: driving shirtless around her snowy homeland in the dead of winter, windows rolled down and AC blasting. Talking about these scandalous moments began to break down the walls the girls had, and led to a lot of laughter. And, as everyone knows, cake, laughter, and embarrassing stories are an excellent recipe for friendship.
The evening later turned to board games (an indication that the princesses were still very new to the college scene). Being as they were, extremely bright and well-read ladies, the group selected Trivial Pursuit, and the good old version from the 80s no less. The brainy game progressed normally until they stumbled across a question asking for the name of the heroine in a Grimm Brothers story. The answer? Cinderslut.
The maidens were shocked by this rendering of their beloved Disney princess’s name, but also highly amused. It did not take long before they broke out the Bananagram tiles, concocting similarly naughty names and bestowing them on each other: Sleeping Booty, Snow Whore, The Little Merskank, and yours truly, Cinderslut.
And thus, a night that had begun with loose acquaintances resulted in four fast friends and four new naughty identities. From that night they faced the happily ever after ahead of them together, never imagining the travels, trials, and triumphs that awaited them. In fact, the princesses would later find out that actual naked shenanigans are even more bonding than telling naked stories. But those are tales for another time.
