makeitcool

[makeitcool]

It's like a fence post trying to protect a cow.

I casually mention between chattering teeth to my much-smaller-than-me older sister as she very kindly attempts to shelter jacketless me from the cold winds as we squat at a very picturesque spot along a rippling lake framed by tree-covered mountains and jagged rocks, my comment being met by immediate disapproval, but the reluctant acknowledgment of my profound wit, by my father and sisters sharing this moment from behind us.

[makeitcool]

So you can hold hands while you struggle to study.

I patiently explain to my less intellectually gifted sister after she questions my dorm room arranging skills upon my suggestion to place the desks adjacent to each other. 

[makeitcool]

I am not having a good time.

I inform my father via FaceTime as I create a paste-like consistency in my mouth by over chewing too salty raisins and not salty enough peanuts for too many hours from my massive Costco trail mix bag, which I am determined to make consist solely of M&Ms so I can have a few moments of unbridled joy when I reach the bottom of the bottomless bag, causing my father to inquire as to why I do not just purchase a bag of M&Ms. He doesn’t understand.

[makeitcool]

We'll make pot brownies...BUT ONLY ONCE! And then we'll pray to God.

I inform my sister during my long and manic description of our (*my) future plans were we live together as lively, successful, beautiful, golden-girly, spinsters in a cottage in the woods with a herb and flower garden, right outside of a charming town that loves us dearly and buys custom-made organic tea from us for outrageously high prices. 

[makeitcool]

I am now part of the cuddle puddle

Comes the muffled but gruntled exclamation of my younger sister after I witnessed her gently collapse into the nest of cats on her bed, burrowing her head between the three bodies of the closely intertwined family of cats, which she perceptively labeled a “cuddle puddle.”

[makeitcool]

Well, I am too old to be in this body, let me tell you.

I announce in reply to my little brother’s innocent inquiry after my age at 11:30 pm, as I hunch uncomfortably over my Calculus homework, fatigued, frazzled, and fed-up with the constant mental battle that is choosing between eating, showering, sleeping, or maintaining good grades, my response eliciting a nervous giggle and slow retreat from the boy as he returns to his Legos and functioning joints. 

[makeitcool]

It's pronounced Shamamalay!

My future daughter will someday be forced to correct all of her teachers, co-workers, friends, and acquaintances after they call her Chamomile, as the spelling of her written name will suggest, unaware that her illiterate, and unqualified mother placed this spelling on her birth certificate intending to call her sweet, cherubic, apple-of-her-eye baby girl Shamamalay for the rest of her natural life, dooming her to a life of uncomfortable introductions and role calls.

[makeitcool]

When your earthly father projects you into the air in jest but you can feel your provisional body disintegrating.

[makeitcool]

Alright, I'm gonna hot glue gun some frozen peas to the side of my pumpkin.

Announced my frazzled little sister at 10:00 pm, while constructing a 3D model of an animal cell with a pumpkin, after procrastinating on the assignment until the last possible moment.

[makeitcool]

What are you doing? Playing connect the dots with potholes.

I ask my mother from the backseat of the car, whilst she chauffeurs me home from school on a rugged backroad, to which she replies with an eye-roll and a dry, “well aren’t you clever,” indicating her lack of enthusiasm for my sarcasm.

[makeitcool]

To Infinity-And Beyond!!!

My over-enthused grandmother and little brother exclaim hyped up on Subway as they leap from our picnic table, to which I wearily respond, while pealing my sunbaked thighs of the scorching bench, “can’t we just go home.”

[makeitcool]

Got No Electricity

Am I shaving in the dark or playing a thrilling game of “Am I Removing Unwanted Hair or Flaying Myself Alive”???

[makeitcool]

Kiss me quick, you ugly sucker I'll close my eyes, just make it quick You paid your buck Now pucker up.

A poem developed by my father and I whilst we waited outside of an auto-shop in the blazing sun upon realizing that the plant next to us is a Portulaca pilosa, otherwise known as Kiss-me-quick. 

[makeitcool]

Hey, you with the sock-monkey arms! Help me.

I call out in a desperate plea to my older and longer limbed sister when my inconveniently stubby, inept arms, and a stack of poorly placed plumbing materials prevent me from grabbing the concord grape juice pop I so desperately want from the depths of our outside freezer. I ended up getting the juice pop myself, eventually.

[makeitcool]

I don't think the streets are ready for me quite yet.

I respond to my sister's request to go outside and put our parakeets to bed for the night, in reference to my fashion-forward outfit of sweatpant pajama bottoms I have worn every night and haven’t washed in weeks, a t-shirt, the exact same tone of grey as my pants that I had sweat in all day, tucked in obnoxiously tight, all finally tied together with the messy-bun I had put up after my shower the previous night, which had become frazzled from sleep, the ninety-degree weather, and the action of giving a cat a bath. I don't believe it's the appropriate time-frame to hit the street with such a controversial and bold fashion statement. Maybe another day.

[makeitcool]

You look like Sid the Sloth's little T-Rex babies.

I inform my sister at the breakfast table as she struggles to eat a chunk of sliced orange using both her hands, juice cascading down her chin, wrist, and forearms.

[makeitcool]

Don't do it again!

I scold my twenty-one-year-old sister as she almost knocks her sippy-cup of juice off her bedside table when she reaches behind herself to grab it without taking her eyes off her Minecraft game, not one hour after she had bumped the same cup off of the same table, spilling her drink all over the bedroom floor, which she then had to spend fifteen minutes mopping up, griping the whole time. I would not like a repeat of that experience, thank you very much.