16.02.07 - 3:44 p.m.

it is only with my sister that i order champagne at a bar. it comes in little bottles and makes me feel like a lush. she is entirely unapologetic about ordering and even re-ordering this type of thing. I TALK SO MUCH she will tell the person at the table who knows the least about her, and she does. she'll detail recent conversations had via text message so fervently that they become difficult to follow unless you carefully watch her fingers which denote that something was typed and is not her commentary. when particularly tickled, she develops a slight wheeze during the last few words of each sentence. she is barely five feet tall, waifish, brash and bleaches her hair with enough irregularity that nobody would mistake her for a natural blonde. we are dissimilar in almost every way, but seated with me in mixed company she follows her embarrassing admissions with i'm sorry; she uses the phrase "pardon my reach."

you know i was named after meg from little women, right? she will ask, though you have no way of knowing
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