Inflammable Substances
It’s absolutely beautiful, a slow unfolding of Birk and Ronia falling in love. My childhood self is in raptures.
+ It’s almost 2012; I am ringing in the new year with my cousins Esme and Ethan, who are 12 and 10; we’ll be watching family-friendly movies and I will probably be drinking unless I can convince them to watch Anastasia. I’d talk a little about the year that’s gone, but I got carried away below, so: next time.
+ My sister Midge, who is also my roommate and BFF, is getting married on Cinco de Mayo. I’m standing up with her in the wedding, and Midge has given me carte-blanche with regards to my clothes—I’ve been pretty unconcerned about the whole thing, but last night I dreamed that it was the day of the wedding and the ceremony was being held in my bedroom instead of at the church. I still didn’t have a dress, and so, as everyone waited by the bay window, I stood in the entryway to my room, in my underwear, trying on everything in my closet. I woke up in a panic, stumbled downstairs, and started looking up dresses. I still have no idea what I’m wearing, but at least now I’m worried about it. Anyone have any ideas? It’s a morning wedding, and it’s in church, so I need to keep my shoulders covered. Let’s be real: I am not above wearing a cardigan.