Crazy Little Sister

This blog was written by Marissa Bergen from, what she believes, is the perspective of her 11 year old son.

Hi I’m Jesse and I’m 11 years old. This is a picture of me when I was a baby. Cute little bugger wasn’t I? I guess it’s okay to say that because apparently everyone said that about me, plus they also commented on what a sweet, nice, well behaved baby I was.

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Those were the good old days, just me and the parental units, hanging out, going places, buying toys.

Then one day my parents said they had to talk to me. They said I was going to be a big brother and they were telling me how wonderful it would be and how I would have someone looking up to me and all that. Yeah, whatever. I’m going to my room now and I’m gonna stay there…for the rest of my life.

Anyway, time goes by and soon enough they’re bringing my sister home from the hospital.

This is a picture of us from the early days. You see I’m smiling but if you look closely it is more like one of those crying on the inside, laughing on the outside, call for help kind of smiles.

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Anyway, it didn’t take me long to figure out this chick was off her rocking horse.

For the first 3 years of her life all she would eat was macaroni and cheese and, oh yeah, dirt. Like she’s too good to put a carrot in her mouth but dirt is perfectly acceptable cuisine. I once saw her lick rain off a car.

And talk about drama queens. It’ s always whine, whine, whine, cry, cry, cry. I mean, like, you fall, you get hurt, you get up, you get over it, right? No need to make a federal case about it, you know what I mean?

But the worst of it is, she always wants to do everything I do and she likes to play with my toys and a lot of the time she breaks them.

I guess my mom kind of understands. She’s always saying stuff like, “Sorry we ruined your life but your sister loves you very much. She worships the ground you walk on.”

And I have to admit, she’s kind of right. Sometimes it is cool to be an older brother.

Just don’t tell THEM I said that.

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Exhibit A

I am writing this blog on the tail end of a particularly unpleasant encounter I had with a female acquaintance on Saturday afternoon. When I consider the relationship I have had with this woman, I think frenemies would be too nice of a word to describe it.

Just to preface this a bit, this woman seems to have volatile relationships with everyone, but has always been especially mean to me. Now, I understand that people like this may have deep seated mental problems, which may evoke sympathy from a bigger person than I. However, unless she is locked up in a mental ward, wearing a strait jacket, I see that as no excuse for the way she has treated me. There are psychiatrists for this sort of thing, after all.

Immediately upon returning home on Saturday afternoon, I did what every other person in the world does when they wish to take passive aggressive action in a situation such as this one. I deleted her from my Facebook.

After  waiting a few hours, and not receiving a sorrowful letter from her demanding to know why she had been deleted, and, in fact, not even knowing whether she noticed that her friend counter dropped from 375 to 374, I decided it simply wasn’t enough.

I tried to turn my negative energy in to creative energy by blogging about the incident, but nothing worthwhile was forthcoming. I even had a heart to heart with my mother. But when I woke up on Sunday morning, I was still feeling kind of sore about the whole thing.

That’s when it hit me. There was only one thing left to do.  Oh yes, a Strongly Worded Email was in order! Now, of course, I know all about being the bigger person and turning the other cheek and all that. Yet I thought it might just be therapeutic to get the whole thing out of my system. I mean I didn’t have to send the thing, did I?

But oh readers, thanks to my caustic wit, my deep sense of sarcasm, and my carefully honed writing skills, what ended up on my computer was a masterpiece, so subtly scathing, so subliminally insulting, there was just nothing else for it. I had to hit send.

And then readers, I felt so much better.

UNTIL…

Until I realized that I had just sent a not very pleasant email to a certifiable mad woman who is probably, as we speak, writing nasty letters to my employer, defaming my character all over the internet, and quite possibly putting a hit out on my life.

Readers, if you do not hear from me for a couple of days, please call the proper authorities and present them with this blog post haste. I have already taken the liberty of marking it as Exhibit A for your convenience. In the meantime, if a crazy woman shows up at your door inquiring to my whereabouts, you don’t know me, you’ve never seen me, I have fled the country.

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Sorry, I Must Have Lost My Mind

So here’s an existential question for the ages…Did you ever have a friend and you’ve known them for some time, maybe even a few years, and then you begin to notice that they are absolutely bat s*** crazy? Well, the question is, did they become crazy while you knew them or were they always crazy and you just realized this as you got to know them better?

That is something to ponder as I briefly describe my friendship with Evangeline.

1. I meet Evangeline and she is the coolest girl in the world, full stop, hands down, real girl’s night out girl,  very down to earth and also, the lead singer in my band.

2. Evangeline meets Lee. Now we all expect our friends to change a bit when they fall in love. But this is the kind of love where the two of them are so intertwined that you have to constantly remind them that there are other people in the world.

3. Evangeline marries Lee, leaves the band and the two of them become hardcore hippies, we’re talking no shaving, no killing of animals no matter how small, love, peace and all that good stuff and they move to a commune in Pennsylvania presumably never to be heard from again.

4. Even though the two of them now reside in what I imagine as a hut in the swamps of Florida where they probably send Lee out in a lightening storm with a key and a kite to get internet service, Evangeline tracks me down through Facebook where we resume a virtual friendship which can be described as spotty at best. That is to say, she will write  once in a while, I will write back, and it is likely that I will not hear from her again for months on end.

5. The other day, after not hearing from Evangeline for months, I receive the following email from her. (I did edit some of the irrelevant stuff out, but other than that, it is cut and paste from the internet).

I am growing and changing very much @ this time in my life. I’ve been really searching for who I am and what I want. I would have never thought this would happen now, but I need to remember who I am. Through many moments of remembering and forgetting, I kept thinking of you and all of the amazing times we had together, a very freeing feeling!!!! So again, thank you for your friendship, you are an inspiration in my life Marissa.

Since I can be obsessive, I’ve been trying to obsess on things that are good for me. So for the last few months I’ve been practicing yoga and meditation in the most exotic locations, mainly at the shoreline of the Gulf of Mexico. Inner peace is a gift so precious, no one can give it to you or buy it for you or even lend it to you. It is a rare gem we all need to find on our own. So I give thanks to the universe and the Goddess energy for helping to heal my busy mind and be connected to LOVE.

<awkward silence> <crickets>

Huh? How do I respond to this? How are you really, Evangeline? Everything alright with you and Lee? I got a really cool pair of jeans the other day? Does anyone else out there think this odd or am I just not growing with the new age times? Anyway, that’s all from me. Until I next become inspired…