I will do almst anything for the sake of entertainment or a good story. Last night that included eating a large marble sized glob of wasabi. Prompting the comment from one of the wedding guests that "I had more balls than he ever would".

Unfortunately, this is probably true.

What I find quite fun and amusing is the fact I can be the proverbial red-headed step child. You bring me along because I am funny and will entertain you for hours, if given the chance. HOWEVER. There is always that slight chance I might say something completely offensive to the simpering guests, just to watch them squirm.

To these hardcore Baptists the occasional "hell" and "damn" is entirely unladylike. (Yes. I realize it is.) I briefly considered making a quick run to the Lands End store to procure the proper striped-sailor shirt and deck shoes that would have befitted the persona they were mentally labeling me: sailor mouth.

It was also quite fun to scandoulize the innocent by pretending my sister and I were incestious lesbians. After all, we shouted, men had done nothing but break our hearts! To round out my obnoxious act, I started singing, LOUDLY, at the top of the lungs for the waitress to bring our check. (I just wanted to make sure they poor guy had gotten his gas money worth of entertainment.)

I went home. I baked until 4:00 am this morning. I still have to ice the cakes. I woke up with a stuffy nose, bloodshot eyes, cough, light fever and matted eyelashes. I feebly slapped on some make-up and took some cold medicine. I sleepily drove into Starbucks WHERE THEY WERE OUT OF MY FAVORITE TEA. As I was balancing my way into work, I realized that my knee-high fishnets were no longer knee-high. They were now ankle high. Flapping merrily about my airy ankles why I was trying to walk in a diginified fashion. Rather difficult, I must tell you.

My dear sister. This is how much I love you. I ate wasabi for you, I will pretended to be a lesbian and I will baked all night. I will endure a rehersal dinner that is more painful that a sibling beatdown. I will party hard, Baptist-style, at your little shindig tonight. I will keep unwanted houseguests this weekend. I will smile prettily for pictures and buy some Visine for these bloodshot eyes to make sure your pictures look perfect. I will not say anything during the "speak now or forever hold your peace" bit.

This is how much I love you sweetie. Which, in my not so humble opinion, is on par with the moon and back.