Anyway, looks like I've got some questions to answer! Bless you darling amigos who still have things you want to know about me after all the awkward things I've already divulged here.
If you were on a deserted island, what one item or person would you bring with you? (No Hubster, sorry.)
-Ryan @ Woven Moments
Can I say a fully-stocked cruise ship with instruction manuals? Or Hurley?
Or, I could NOT cheat and pick someone/something already in my life:
On those rare occasions when Husband can't fix my mood, he tells me to call my sister. Wise man, that Husband character.
Choosing to bring my sister to my accidental private island certainly has its flaws. The little sister & I tend to feed off of each others' insanity, like when we recently had to drive the EXACT &^%$#! SAME 180-mile stretch FOUR times in SIX days. Without a radio. By the end we were singing duets entirely with growls and chirping noises, and:
|Even better zoomed in.|
Yes, I was trying to "claw" my way out of the car at 70 mph.
And she was in the passenger's seat, covering the right half of the windshield with toe streaks and likening it to tending a Zen garden. (See bottom right corner of photo... the perfect epitome of Zen, yes? It just... screams it.)
It gets better. She took my car to fill it up with gas a few days afterwards, and the kindly attendant decided to clean the windshields for her. After squeegee-ing the glass like a pro, he flipped the blade over and started dutifully scrubbing the "claw" marks.
He scrubbed harder.
He leaned in to inspect more closely, and got a look of horrified confusion on his face once he realized they were on the inside of the car. He quizzically looked at my sister, handed her the receipt, and scurried off.
So, having made a short story long, I'd bring my sister to share in my maroon-ed-ness. We'd go bonkers, but sometimes it's what you have to do to survive.