Dear Matt,

Author's note: Before reading this post, you must read yesterday's post if you haven't. Because I said so.

Just in case any of you are wondering, Matt failed the test yesterday. I sat at the window for thirty minutes, waiting for that darn messenger pigeon. I thought I saw him once, but it turned out to be....nothing. I don't wear glasses on Sundays. Even my eyeballs rest on the Sabbath.

Sigh. My own brother. He doesn't even care about all the important, intelligent, life-changing things I have to say every day. My own brother.

Mom said something about him not having internet. Pshaw. Really, that's the worst excuse I've ever heard. Maybe I work my butt off every day for a living, so leave me alone would have worked. Probably not, though. Seriously. All those years I bossed you around incessantly and then you cooked me lunch? This is how you repay me?

I see how it is. I was going to make you eggs some day. To thank you for all those lunches. No eggs for you!

I need validation. Is there anybody out there...


Liz....if you don't respond to this post within thirty minutes, I'll...

Ah. Better not. Why torture myself?

Oh, and I've been told that yesterday's "car" pic featured a Blazer. Not a Suburban. I strive for accuracy. Some day I might even learn what kind of car our green car is.

For now, we'll just go with "green car."

Yes, I did graduate high school and college. Shocking, isn't it?

Matt, here is that picture. This represents the fact that I still love you, even if you aren't stalking your bored, lonely big sister.


For the record, I stalk you. Isn't that why Facebook was invented? For big sisters? You better be good.

And someone please tell Matt to get on the blessed internet so I don't have to call him. Phone conversations make me break out in hives. I'm a social nightmare, and I don't care who knows it.