Friday, June 16, 2006

We Gonna Sip Bacardi Like it's Lewis's Birthday

Today is my brother's 22nd birthday. This is a little bit crazy because:

1. I'm not a girl, but not yet a woman (Hav and I watched Britney Spears' big-screen debut in Crossroads last night, and so these big questions are on my mind) and he's like, not a boy, but not yet a man. Fuck. What am I talking about?

2. 22 is kinda old. I mean, I was 22 when I packed all my stuff into a car and drove out to New York City and then got stranded on a highway in New Jersey at 2 A.M. Which means Lewis could be doing retarded things like that too, which is scary. Clearly I just want to talk about myself.

3. He still has the skin and youthful vigor of a man half his age! (aw, Lew!!!)

(That's me and Lewis, a few years ago)

4. I totally haven't gotten him a present. One year Lewis mailed me a bunch of shrimp and crabs and Scot cooked it and it was delicious. I don't know how he did that though. I don't like going to the post office, because everyone who works there is semi-incompetent, so I'll probably mail him a less perishable kind of thing, like a card.

I thought I'd share this diary entry in which I relayed the events of Lewis's 8th birthday, which was, by my calculations, about a million years ago:

"We had chocolate cake for breakfast. We went to Major Magics for lunch with Marie and Tony. It was cool. It wasn't very crowded, either. I got 111 tickets! More than I've ever gotten. We ate din-din at the Great Wall, this cool Chinese restaurant."

Hey, seriously though: if tomorrow I woke up and had chocolate cake for breakfast and then was told I was going to earn 111 tickets (which is like, at least a stale candy necklace and a plastic cup) at Major Magics and have Chinese for dinner, I'd be pretty fucking happy. Like, possibly LOLOLOLOLO happy, and maybe even OMG LOLOLOLOLLL happy.

What the fuck happened to Major Magics? Chuckie Cheeses? Showbiz Pizza? I want to play the game where you hit the turtles that pop up in the little holes with a mallet. And Skee-Ball. Possibly like ... forever.


Annie said...


We are such kindred spirits:

Thanks for the shade, Snoopy.

Annie said...

Now I'm stuyding both pairs and maybe they're not the same glasses. Mine are squarish and old-womanly; yours are like flat rectangles... 3-D perhaps?

I'm really sorry about both of these comments. (No I'm not.)

marie lyn bernard said...

No, they are totally the same glasses. Maybe it's our heads that are different. Like, my head is super round and deceptively chubby (deceptively because the rest of me is not chubby), and yours is more oval and thin. they're a bit different, but the point is that we were clearly both like, way ahead of the game as far as the Niocle Richie/Olson twins big-ass-sunglasses fad goes. Lightyears.

p.s. nice overalls!

This is probably a singular instance of my

Anonymous said...

Its funny how you were able to turn a celebration of me into a discussion of you.

thanks for the shoutout,


p.s. I sent the shrimp same-day with UPS, it was fairly painless

Lady Noelle said...

Skee ball was the best!

marie lyn bernard said...


i know, right?? that's one of my talents as a writer. i can turn any subject into a topic about MEEEEE. as you know, I've done this my whole life!

There I go, talking about myself again!!

Oh man.

The glee of you commenting on my blog far outweighs the potential shame I could feel about talking about myself too much.