In which I call my sister, Ziz, and ask her obnoxious questions at 4:30 in
the morning. All of this actually happened, except for the parts I made
up.
Ring. Ring ring.
Ziz: Hel--
Self: Ziz! Glad you’re awake. Listen, what are my interests?
Ziz: What?! Who? I...SLEEPING!
Self: Well, wake up. Seriously. What are my interests?
Ziz: Why???
Self: Because I’m filling out this form, see, and I have to have
interests. But I think I have boring interests, you know?
Ziz: What time is it?
Self: Four-thirty. Anyway, think! Interests! Mine! Go.
Ziz: Four...? Okay. Fine. Interests. Um...writing?
Self: Got it. But that’s so generic. What else?
Ziz: Well, you...paint?
Self: Got that one, too.
Ziz: And reading, and – wait. What is this for?
Self: An important form! I told you.
Ziz: You’re not, like, placing a personal ad in the paper or something,
are you?
Self: No, fool. I’ve got the Dukay love.
Ziz: Okay, fine. ‘Cause if it was a personal ad, you’d have to say
"walking on the beach by starlight," I think. It’s like a rule.
Self: Well, it isn’t a personal ad. And besides, even if that was my
interest, I wouldn’t put that. That’s like what the naked women in
Playboy say. It’s so...centerfold.
Ziz: ...“Centerfold?”
Self: Right.
Ziz: Which became an adjective when?
Self: Shut up. I was an English major. You’re just some TV person.
Ziz: Fine. Right. Okay. But what’s this for, really?
Self: My Friendster profile!
Ziz: (Silence).
Self: And yours is really good, because you put in all this, like, unusual
stuff.
Ziz: You woke me up...at four-thirty in the morning...
Self: Yep! But I totally shouldn’t have, because you’ve been no help
whatsoever.
Ziz: I...? Hey! And besides, you’re the reason I had to come up with
all that crap, because of that testimonial you wrote for me.
Self: Which one?
Ziz: The one that said I was the inventor of the vertical stripe.
Self: Oh, right! And that you were raised by wolves, which is why you
have never had a “bad hair day”?
Ziz: No. That you wrote for my boyfriend.
Self: Oh, riiiiiight. Anyway. You = Not helping me.
Ziz: FINE. Okay. You’re interested in...dude, you know, you’re kind of
obsessed with the Amish.
Self: Am not.
Ziz: No, you totally are! It’s freaky. Like, remember that time you had
the dream where I called you, and told you I had just gotten the
lead in a musical called “Amish Spectacular!”?
Self: Um...no.
Ziz: Liar. This was like, last week.
Self: You don’t say.
Ziz: I do say. And there were songs, too...”It’s the Amish Life, for us,
it’s the Amish Life, for us! We are holy, IT is true! So God loves
us, MORE than you!”
Self: That must have been your other sister. The one you don’t have.
Ziz: And then there was that whole, “If I’m ever randomly interviewed
on television, I’m totally going to make fun of the Amish.”
Self: Oh, I never said that.
Ziz: Indeed, you DID. Granted, you were drunk, but frighteningly, it
made a weird kind of sense...
Self: I know! I know! ‘Cause you could totally make fun of the Amish
all you want on TV or on the internet, and they will never find
out!
Ziz: You could have an entire network dedicated to making fun of the
Amish, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week! Because
they don’t watch TV!
Self: A website called www.screwwiththeamish.com! Because they
don’t use computers!
Ziz: It’s sort of brilliant, if you didn’t like the Amish.
Self: But I don’t not like the Amish. I cherish the Amish.
Ziz: So put them as an interest. And stop using double negatives.
Self: No. And no.
Ziz: FINE.
Self: Okay, well, I still have nothing, thanks to you.
Ziz: I gave you a perfectly good idea. And now I’m going back to bed.
Self: Hateful. I'm going to have no Friendsters thanks to you.
Ziz: Oh, stop being so centerfold. Remember, I invented the vertical
stripe.
Meet my
Sister.
1 Sister + 1 dog + 2 bottles of bug spray =
This picture.