vive la difference

A variety of people attempted to convince me that we were celebrating Sara’s 21st birthday yesterday, but I know that to be false: Sara is fourteen years old, and always will be. I have neither the time nor the patience to continue debate on this topic, so I will thank you to keep your “corrections” to yourselves.

I always forget about this fact, but my family (families, I suppose) and Tyla’s family are very different. I’m not having a lot of luck articulating, even to myself, the specific differences, but they always strike me within about 20 minutes of arriving at a family gathering. It used to be that I would only notice this difference when visiting Tyla’s family, but now I get that same “huh” feeling when I visit with my own kin. (Exception: other than some trivial clothing-choice differences, and the fact that I can be marginally meaner to Steph in pursuit of my own entertainment, the Three Sisters are pretty much mix-and-match.) I’m not sure what that means, exactly, but it was a little weird when it happened the first time.

Martha let me drive her car around yesterday, while we were in search of desserts for Sara’s birthday, and I’m now a little worried that it was illegal. See, I forgot my license — and debit card, and credit card — back home in Toronto, and I’m not sure if there’s any present-it-at-a-police-station leeway for we G1-holders caught without our credentials. I guess it’s for the best that I didn’t do anything worthy of a traffic stop. (OK, other than that one little I’m-turning-no-I’m-not-tee-hee swerve on Bank Street. But really, if they pulled people over for that, the world would be a very different place.)

I headed over to Chris’ and Kristina’s to crash last night, because it was a little bit crowded at the Primary Holmes Residence — to whom it may concern: I do not sleep on a “twin” anything — and because I wanted to get an early start on work with Coop in the morning. Worked, for the most part. Also, I feel this moral imperative to impose on these lovely people whenever I’m in town.

Coop and I were going to have a little chat about recovery testing today, hopefully so that Robert doesn’t get another mess of surprises like the one I stumbled into on the most recent test-binge. Of course, Robert wanted to be involved in that call, and then Peter felt he should join in — sure, now everyone wants to help with this sort of testing. In other news, I have a fence that needs painting, and nobody is getting any of my bread. (It occurs to me, only now, that we never did discuss in detail the two issues that spurred Coop to ask for my input. I’m such a loser.)

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