Family Business


I was marinating over what I wanted to blog about today, so I did the age-old routine of posting “What to blog about today?” on my Facebook wall in order to fish for inspiration. The two responses I got were: 1.) How great you look in plaid, or 2.) Flaming dog poo and the human response. I feared the first one was too easy: I do look great in plaid, but that’s pretty much just a solid fact not needing further elaboration – and the second? I worried that I would have to run a clinical experiment in order to properly and scientifically be able to respond and that seemed like a lot of effort for a lousy old blog post.

What I settled for, was a post that might help you get to know me a little better. What I settled for was this: family photo time.

Meet Ray. Or as I like to affectionately refer to him: Ray-Ray. He can also be affectionately referred to as my Father. While he sports an uncomfortable grin, he makes up for this with his undeniable style and swagger.

Today he is charming the ladies in some fitted bell-bottom paints and a dapper men’s leisure shirt. Get it Ray-Ray.

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When groovy threads weren’t enough anymore, Ray-Ray upped the ante by getting a perm, switching to ADIDAS track suits, and adding exotic animals for accessory and flair.

Isn’t Roseanne an absolute vision? A sight for sore eyes? A diamond in the rough? I would like to say that she is where I got my good looks from but the truth is I don’t look a thing like either of my parents.

In fact as a child I was convinced I was part of an adoption conspiracy or that they took the wrong baby home from the hospital – but can we deviate from my pending Lifetime movie plot to look at this picture? I’m pretty sure Ray-Ray is drinking out of a Dixie cup and my sister bet me twenty bucks that they only took this picture was to say they had a black friend.

Meet Anitra. You know, for two mildly uncreative people “Anitra and Tanya” were really two doozies to pick as the names of your children. In this picture Anitra is rocking a sweet key-tar, that I feel like should mention came with a George Michael song as the demo track. Lay it down sis.

Anitra and I were as close as any two sisters could be. Here we are defining the word adorable in our matching ruffled midriffs and purple shorts. Please enjoy my floppy hat, hipster bangs, and coy look of seduction.

Here we are again, looking completely normal. And by “completely normal” I mean we look like total freaks as we are draped over one another wearing vegetables on our faces, as our grossly obese 30-lb cat Bootsie shakes his head in dismay behind us. “Bootsie,” what an original name for a cat.

Did someone just turn up the heat? Because all of a sudden it is HOT in here, am I right? The look on my face says it all: we hot, we know it, and we aren’t afraid to show it.

We are strutting our stuff in sexy two piece ensembles, undoubtably inspired by the bikinis they wear in the Saved by the Bell episodes where they worked for Leon Carosi at the Malibu Sands Beach Club.

Now onto the best part of this blog: me. When I was a baby I one special  nicknams: Chubby Wubby.

This had nothing to do with the fact I was a beast like infant , or a sloppy eater. Also, I’m lying.

Here I am with the man we all called the “Godfather,” regardless of the fact he was actually only the Godfather to my sister Anitra. In any event, whenever I see a picture of him I just want to insert him into a mob movie where he belongs.

Happiness is a slip and slide party. You know what happiness isn’t? You’re parents equipping you with an ill-fitting bathing cap, nose plugs, and ear plugs for a freaking slip and slide.

Although water is involved in the slipping and sliding process, I don’t think you can count the light “spraying” of water as something that could be accountable for the water damage of any orifices on your child’s head.

Oh hey, look what I found. This is a picture of me taken just a few years ago.

Same shit, different decade.

My first thought about this picture is that I’d like to make fun of it. Something along the lines of “Why is that little boy wearing a girl’s bathing suit?” but then I remember “Oh yeah, that’s me.”

I don’t know about you, but this picture makes me feel safe. The driver is closing her eyes behind the wheel but I look calmly at ease.

I think to be “green” I’m going to start driving one of these little cars around.

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