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December 20, 2004 // 5:48 p.m. // Back, gone, back, gone
You should all know that muy sister is fine. She walked in the door almost unnoticed early this morning, walked straight into the bathroom and took a bath. She was back out the door an hour later to go snowboarding. No discipline, no intense grilling, just a verbal slap on the wrist for disappearing without a trace without so much as a phone call for over 36 hours. And while she's home? On her cell phone like crazy. Don't tell me it wasn't working, because it seemed to be working just fine for the twenty minutes or os after she got out of the shower. She tried to engage me in conversation today, but I wasn't going along. She wanted me to go to an outdoor store that was going out of business. We still haven't spoken. But then again, she's only been home for one hour since Friday night. Ok then. With that out of the way... We've all heard that Donald Rumsfeld hasn't been personally signing the letters to the families of the deceased troops. In an attempt to take a sad song and make it better, my dad jokingly said that someone should auction off an autographed Rumsfeld item on ebay and include in the subject line, "world's rarest autograph." It's a political cartoon waiting to happen, yet I can't draw. Finally, remember this entry proclaiming my newly found fascination for lip balm? I found the Cinnabon flavored tube at Walmart earlier, but have yet to try it. I'm too excited that I was able to find strawberry brand to care about the Cinnabon one.