lost luggage

Ahoy,

I always love when I get to see my brother, love it! I've always felt my parents had him so I would have a playmate, but living in different places makes it difficult to play with him. How can he live up to his purpose in life if he is so far away? Not only that, the family has anxiety about his forays into the culinary world, which are limited and juvenile. No offense, K, but you should not be having grilled cheese for dinner. You aren't even in college anymore, there is no excuse. But to his credit, he tries, and is open to learning.

We began with leftover lasagna I had saved for him. It's his favorite, I'm told, because Garfield likes it. After an unsuccessful mad dash to the airport for his lost luggage, we got a run at the rock climbing gym. It was emptier than I had ever seen it, and I was delighted. We went to our old favorite, Father's Office across the street. The RRS swears by this burger.

The following morning, I made halfhearted attempts to get the sleeping boys up for yoga. We instead opted for a hike up the nearby Baldwin Hills, and snapped touristy action shots at the top. K and I ventured to USC to meet a friend of his who gave us the local's tour of campus. I coaxed him into climbing a horse. We had burritos and milkshakes that I later regretted having him finish. A new development, my brother is lactose intolerant, a "crippling disease."

Climbing outdoors in January/February is a luxury Midwesterners have to endure much more pain to be able to accomplish. We took advantage of the beautiful weather at Stoney Point for some bouldering. It was severly sunny and temperate outside, which is shockingly unsettling for me, but the boys loved it. This is not how the weather should be in the winter, but such is what my life has come to. As the RRS made a mad dash to a superbowl happening, my brother and I reluctantly donated per suggestion into the Museum of Jurassic Technology. Never have I seen a museum with such oddities, never will I again. It spooked my brother, who has always been prone to spooking - a quality I have indulged in testing far too many times in my life.

To cap the trip, I did my sisterly duty and made fried chicken for him, hoping he was taking notes in his head for how to cook real food on his own. Perhaps I will spend my life worrying if he knows how to feed himself.


craftily tender,
jt