I feel like a gay emo teenager doing this damn photo challenge and am actually a little annoyed that I started this in the first place. But it's amazing how when you have something important to do (ie: finish my online prerequisite geometry course by July), you procrastinate by finding something completely unimportant to do (ie: this blog) just to put off the important thing. *sigh*
Day 02 - A picture of you and the person you have been closest with the longest
Shibalsshang. I cannot figure out how to rotate this so sideways you will stay. In case you didn't know, that shapeless lump with the sparse hair is me, and the toadstool in the dress is my sister, Sawa.
So recently in a wine-fueled conversation, my sister told me I was her best friend and my anus almost turned inside out clenching itself (ie: heebie jeebies.) And I thought "ew... sisters are NOT best friends." Then later, I realized that I HAVE been close to this biatch and we HAVE grown up together side-by-side and experienced life together. So though we are not 'best friends' per se, she is the person I've been closest to for the longest time. We did, however, have ONE falling out where we were estranged for half a year. This is what happened:
In sophomore year of college, I lived in Chateau Club apartments ie: ghettoville, with my girlfriends and my sister. At the time, I had a red Honda Civic that I had saved up for and bought with my OWN money. I was very fond and protective of that car. Actually, I was just an extremely anal person at the time and I lived my life as though I was in the military (I would plan my day hour by hour and stick to my regimen religiously).
Sawa, on the other hand, was and still is a scatter-brained pinhead and lives life like the tasmanian devil from Looney Tunes.
Yes...with that facial expression, sawa plows through life.
During the semester we lived together, I was getting fed up with our messy room, a messy kitchen, and my stuff going missing (compliments of Sawa)..and I would DEFINITELY hate when she borrowed my car. Apparently, my uptightness was also pissing off Sawa but she's an extremely patient person so she never said anything.
One night, while I was locked in Liz's room discussing how cool we were, Sawa took out my precious Civic without telling me...just snuck that bitch out, right under my nose. She and Esther took the car and picked up some other UGA girls and got the car stuck on some curb. When I got the call about it, I was fucking PISSED OFF. In my anal mind, her getting the car stuck equated to her totaling the car. After some burly men helped unstick the car, Esther and Sara and the other girls we didn't know that well came back and trepidatiously entered the apartment where, of course, I was waiting, pacing around furiously (and Liz was trembling in the corner).
Right when Sawa came through the door, I ran up to her and screamed "Why the FUCK are you taking my car without telling me?!?! And you fucking get it stuck..." I was like a crazy banshee.
Like that...but way uglier.
Then my voice cracked and I started crying/screaming. Then I gave Sawa a hard shove. Sawa picked up the nearest thing she could find, which was a glass bell jar, and hurled it at me. Having lightening-quick reflexes, I was already running away when she reared her arm back. But the glass jar hit my back shoulder blade. She came running at me like a linebacker but I was ready for her.
Then....slo-mo, this ensued.
Sara's the one getting knocked back. *that's right, bitch*
She hit the ground and started kicking her combat-shoes-ridden feet at me like she was pedaling a bicycle. I was on the top throwing punches at her head.
Karleen, who was locked in her room probably drinking beers while Anthony watched, came running out screaming "Nooooooo!!!! Stop it!" She tried to wedge herself in between us but her 5'1 ass wasn't gonna stand in the way. I literally picked her up and threw her to the side leaving nothing but her long, black hair streaking across.
Then I continued to pummel Sara as hard as I could while she kicked me, mostly in my groin area.
All the bystanders (and for some reason, there was a lot of people there, mostly strangers) and all of them were like :
Then the fighting stopped. I don't know how it stopped but it was alluva sudden. Sara ran out of the apartment into Esther's room and cried all night. Liz and I holed up in my room and talked about everything that had unfolded. I didn't cry but I felt extremely bad for whooping her ass (hehe) I don't know where the other girls went off to...Karleen probably resumed her drinking and spam-eating with Anthony.
The next morning, I brought her (free) donuts from Starbucks and I heard that when she received them (I didn't give it to her personally), she started bawling again.
I don't think we talked for the next week, but gradually, we started being normal again, although we didn't mention our fist fight for a good six months. But I did get a scolding from my parents and my uncle for "뚜두려페ing" (beating up) my older sister.
From that point on, Sawa refused to live with me while I was so anal. Luckily, right around that time is when my intense reefer smoking and alcoholism began and I loosened up like 209384029384%. And now Sawa loves me. She calls herself my "biggest fan." I guess some ass-beating helps set a person skraight. JK.
(Don't think I'm a total monster. Sara's been pounding on me since I was just a baby...and has beat me up several times as a teenager. This fight was our last major fist-fight. We have grown since then!! Except for the time she threw two cans of tuna in my face in Korea).