Fascinating Fandamily

Sometimes the people whose DNA we share are just fascinating creatures, don't you think? I like to watch Six Feet Under and marvel at the wackocity of the characters and family dynamics. But my family is an interesting case study, too. And I don't mean a case study in dysfunction, even though I have personally written more chapters on dysfunction into my family's history than your shrink's DSM-IV-TR. Like the time that I threw a tantrum because my mother told me to stop being snippy and I cried for four hours on the floor of my bedroom; the bedroom that was sans furniture and heat due to the fact that I had moved out of her house six years ago. I was 25, married, and having a tantrum on my bedroom floor. That was awesome.

I just continue to be amazed by my family and the unique proclivities of its members. The fact that I live so far from my family now makes the observations even more acute, the interesting aspects of their characters even more pronounced.

This past weekend, my sister TP joined us for a weekend of frivolity. I was happy to spend time with my sister for a period of longer than 3 hours which has not occurred since her last visit in 2004 when my name and my hair color and my roommates and my living quarters were all different. Her name and hair color are still the same, as are many other things that I had forgotten that I knew about my sister. Like that she gives everyone the benefit of the doubt. Unlike her older sister (c'est moi) who is quick to judge and snark and cast people she's never met off to the Island of Misfit Toys. My sister is also very funny. She has a good memory. She asks clarifying questions. I don't know where she learned to ask clarifying questions. Maybe our mother? I'm much too proud to ask clarifying questions. Given an unknown reference, I am much happier to nod, feign knowledge, and proceed to go home and google "Mahi Mahi in Bora Bora" than to show my hand of ignorance cards. TP, on the other hand, has no trouble showing you what she's got in her hand and tell you what she's waiting to be dealt.

Oh, and my sister is also very beautiful. It's fun to go places with her because it's like a game of Ms. Pac-Man. Here comes TP down this row, chomping through with reckless abandon. Packs of guys will float through like primitive Pac ghosts and huddle. TP will be none the wiser and just chomp right through the aisle or spin on her heels and scoot in the other direction. All the while, I'm wondering why so many young chaps are giving us the eye, and suddenly speaking in very loud, braggadocio tones. It's because I'm with TP who is very beautiful and who knows it but who doesn't have time for empty machismo.

I don't know what I am meant to learn from my family anymore, now that we live so far apart. I know that we are always there for one another, but what does that mean when I have a bat circling my apartment overhead and what does that mean when my mother has the barfies and needs someone to run and get her some Pepto-Bismol? I only know that I'm thankful to be related to the people in my family because my family is comprised of some fascinating people that I am lucky enough to be related to and just ballsy enough to write about online.