Ah, family. A beautiful thing.

Well, darlingest of all darling imaginary friends, here we are again. You must be as thrilled as I, to be sure, to be meeting again, so soon. My spicy Cuban friend may fall over in a dead faint upon seeing this, but we'll keep our fingers crossed that there are pillows or something else soft in her landing zone.

You might be asking yourself, "Self, what the heck is Lisa Marie doing, blogging again so soon? Isn't she supposed to be working on her current Work In Progress?" And of course, the answer to that is YES. Yes, I am supposed to be working on my WIP. Unfortunately, I feel the need to vent first.

As some know, I do not get on with my brother. What's that? Oh! Yes. I have a sibling. No, really. I do. It is, in fact, one of the Omnipotent Comedian's greatest jokes that there is no one on the planet with whom I have a closer genetic tie. And that if one of us needed a kidney, we'd have really only each other to call. Well...let's be honest. If I needed a kidney from this man, I'd be S.O.L. And of course, no one would fault him if he turned me down flat; he is VERY IMPORTANT and has a wife and children. Naturally, if the tables were turned, I would be expected to rip out my own kidney and offer it up with bloody hands, trembling in gratitude. I am, after all, of no particular significance, I'm not married and I'm barren. Really, what else am I good for?

Anyway. Twenty years ago this Memorial Day, I'd had enough. The story of the Last Straw is long and involved and too much for this post. Suffice to say, I was done. And really, after all of that was over, I was okay with it. I didn't enjoy the meddling of others, mostly relatives, telling me to get over it and speak to my brother the pig, but I held fast and didn't really even think about the whole thing much.

Until the meddling started again. Last night.

My blessed mother decided to call me and let me know that the friends I wanted to invite to the lake cabin over the holiday weekend probably shouldn't come. Why, you may ask? Well, evidently, she felt it would be uncomfortable not to invite my friends to the communal family meals at the neighboring lake house, that's partly owned by my brother and his wife. Where my parents will be for dinners and such. Where, for some wackadoodle reason, my mother seemed to think I would be.

Nothing, nothing could be further from the truth.

If I'm at the lake and for some reason, I manage to be there when the other offspring of my parents is there, I really, really want nothing to do with him. Or his wife. Or even their children. They're all incredibly perfect and delighted with themselves; I can't imagine they'd even notice if I did or did not attend their functions. Well, other than the fact that my hideous form would despoil the perfection of their arrangements. But other than that...who'd care?

May I also say that, in my family, anyone who puts on a dinner or an event or offers a meal should be able to feed twenty. If the perfect princess of a sister-in-law can't do that, wtf is she doing in my family? God knows the sibling can't, but he's male and too delighted with the fact that he has a penis to be bothered with the care, feeding or comfort of others. That's women's work, after all.

My mother seems to think she's going to get her way on this. To quote a fabulous line from one of my favorite movies, The Princess Bride,

"Get used to disappointment."