You Stepped Out Of A Stranger

People ask me questions all the time, everything from Who told you you were funny? to Why are you sleeping on my lawn? This morning, my student worker asked if I planned to dance all the way across the building. I told him it was a long way to hula. So that was an easy one. The trickier questions involve my family and the one I hear most frequently: does that wacky Daria exist?

Yep. Our cousin Monday snuck up on us and snapped this moment for gobsmacked posterity.

Here you see me in a charming ensemble dragged from the back of Daria's closet describing to Daria how I'd dried my hair upside down for our sister Dara's eighties-themed sweet sixteen party. Yes, that is my butt. No, you can't have it. What would I sit on and complain? Sheesh. Daria had just finished explaining that her hair is naturally a giant cloud of Jersey Chick curly hair but that wasn't retro enough, so she went with a hairband with a streaked coif attached. It's a nice touch.

Further, that purple balloon behind me was altogether familiar. I slapped it and yelled, "Masher!" which caused Daria to spit her adult beverage.

We don't finish a lot of drinks.