NO, not me.
My brainiac-baby-brother decided to not only go to law school but to get top marks in his class and actually finish what he started by graduating.
Novel concept – finishing what one started.
I’m more of a giver-upper, a fader-outer, a Hey! What’s that shiny thing over there-er… myself.
I try and comfort myself by silently mocking him for being such a little fit-thrower when he was little that my mother let him live on nothing but peanut butter and jam sandwiches for a year. On demand.
“I’m not just saying this, he would have starved himself had I refused. He was very strong willed”
If a child is hungry, he will eat. Spoiled little…
Where was I? Ah yes…
Trying to find fault in Isaac isn’t nearly as soothing as one might expect anyway so I’ve no choice but to be proud and happy for him. Yay you!
Of course, in order to be fully spirited about the whole thing I have no choice but to go to his graduation… in New York.
Damn him straight to hell! Like it wasn’t enough to have to listen to him whine and scream and shriek over salad greens and lost Lego pieces his entire toddler-hood; now I have to go sit in the audience this weekend and praise him for his stellar IQ, drive and accomplishment.
More importantly, how the hell will I amuse myself in New York city all weekend long? I mean honestly! I’ll be forced to see Broadway shows, flirt with comics, drink my face off and shop the boredom right to hell.
Yes people, I give and I give and I give…
Oh sure, coffee in the village and cocktails on East 55th sandwich Madison Ave as well as they can but how many pairs of shoes can a girl buy?
I’ll try to bring myself to take pictures and document the journey as if I were enjoying myself. Just for you.
and I give…
But I won’t like it.